Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 125) (1879 12 16)
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c al -— = bcuseae Meee = ~ ssa en tt . hs " i} ! ' “Aas = NS Bae PAWL | || Female Forger. =“ ws BEADLE AND ADAMS, mop the WiLL MS, KLE . | Copyrighted In 1879 by WELL: " AND ADA NEW YORK. , BONANZA BILL, MINER: or, Madam Mystery, ADLI LY BY BE No, 98 WILLIAM STREET,
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— - , er [adam Mystery, the Female Forger. i Tale of the City of San Francisco. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, acrnoR oF “DEADWOOD DICK,” ‘‘ ROSEBUD KOB,” “‘GILT-EDGED DICK,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. « MIDNIGHT ATTACK—SECRET OF AN OLD CEL- 1.8 IN THE CHINESE QUARTER—A STRANGE DJCUMENT THAT CAME FROM A COFFIN. {oN FRANCISCO! ‘t .9 largest, the most lawless and the wicked- : ms upon the American Pacific coast, as all ‘wit allow. Of the bitter heart of the pretty city by the {i j ten Gate; of the truly venomous characters o. taat haven of the Far South-west, compara- tively little.is known to our Eastern world-at- iuces, for, since the pick and shovel have been juid to rest here, the pen of the novelist finds inagnetism in the balmy clime only once in a great while. To be sure, the stream of commaerce between the old world and the new passes in no small degree through the City of Frisco, and the news- paper exchanges bring occasional tidings of or inary events or chronicles of accidents. Still little ig? tgp of the real life in the fast City of , ever reaches the general American audience, unless by aid of novelist, reporter or historian. All of the gilded and fashionable vices to be fuindin New York, Philadelphia or Chicago, ds San Francisco boast, and many others taat te its sister cities to the blush. Although not quite so lawless as those notori- cava representative cities of the West, Leadville and Deadwood, Frisco can supply the duplicates «! Sae leading elements of those places on de- «and, and being the chief foreign trading port ot the Pacific coast, it naturally contains a lar, ating population com of nearly «44se8 and nations of the whole globe. Vangerous quarters are there in the golden <\‘y, where men seldom care to venture after «cutfall, chief among which is the Chinese outer, a portion of the city set off ially : .« the habitation and occupation of the Chinese, with which the city is gorged. A natural grin for these pig-tailed sons and }.aghters of Confucius burns in the breast of marly every native San Franciscan, and mob- bing by the inhuman hoodlums has for some tine past been a favorite method of venting spite on the almond-eyed Celesti This warfare against them of course has in- eased the Chinamen and their families, until sich a state of affairs is at hand that no Ame- ricun searcely ever dares to enter the Chinese 3 arter unguarded, Of course the Chinese are not alone in their '«nportioned part of the city. In such a port as ‘-ieeo there is never a lack for foreign and domestic rogues and rascals, villains and ruf- tla:ts; and mainly does this unenviable class seek the Chinese quarters wherein to escape detec- won and arrest for their depredations, until the said district has become a very rogue’s retreat— - 4 vlack spot in a fair city by the Pacific waters, _ worse than ever were the notorious Five Points »! old New York, \t tas long beenasaying in the Friscan city that the blue-coated servants of the law were afraid a) enter the Chinese district; anyhow, only on me on of some htful e or the pur- «i¢ of some extraordinary criminal can the svitl officials be found in the uncanny ct. Fearful stories of dark nocturnal doings in the (‘:inese section are told at the tea-tables, at che clubs and in the saloons, and men who pride :aemselves as controllers of the city government look but say nothing when the stories or _ complaints are tit to their notice of the great existing evi - Toward the close of a bleak, rainy November day, in the year of 187-,a man _ was wending ais way through the streets of San Francisco without apparent object or aim, for his head «as bowed upon his breast, and one would have ' said that he was not conscious of where he was ening, There was nothing extraordinary in his ap- fs ic canine ~~ clad ina gona rou ments, top-boots upon want aod a wide-rimmed hat slouched down ‘wor $33 eyes, ‘He was aman ¢f stalwart frame, Bonanza Bill, Miner; oon ’r bar’l | and his face, though tanned brown, was not un- ons, which consisted of a pair of heavy Colt’s revolvers, and a hunting-knife, and in his right hand he carried a small leathern valise that was considerably the worse for wear. Up one street and down another, the man aimlessly wandered, with unsteady gait, his hat slouched down over his eyes and his demeanor that of a person who didn’t care particularly whether he brought up in a Bush street palace, or the city “jug,” and the verdict of those who took any notice of him was that he was some miner from up in the interior, come to town on pur to have a spree, and he was having it. And, evidently the fellow was drunk, for he seemed heedless of the rain that drizzled down, as he s ered on, and occasionally a silly chuckle would escape him—decidedly a drunken chuckle, too. At last he arrived in Bush street, and stopped in at several saloons where he imbibed large quotations of ‘‘bug-juice,” after which he would saunter out upon the street until he came to another “ mies. pr ” In the neighborh of the Bella Union varie- ty theater, upon a little by-street,a strip of awning-canvas was stretched over the sidewalk infront of a ak Ne 2 fraine building, upon which was painted in fanciful letters the words: ‘*CRIMSON PALACE.” In the course of his rambling this sign seemed to catch the eye of the pilgrim from the interior, and he pa unsteadily upon the walk to sur- vey the sign and the ‘“‘ ranch” whose herald it was. ““(Hic) Werry much looks asif they (hic) sell tarant’ler in thar’, "he muttered, stoning Toe self against a convenient lamp-post, an appre- ciative expression ‘upon his f ‘““Werry bad whisky they taper igh r s-s-set a pilgrim’s blood As he was drawing these conclusions the door of the Crimson Palace was opened, tly, and the colla anatomy of some intoxicated iigrim was tumbled unceremoniously out upon the sidewalk, after which the door was slammed shut, again. The miner surveyed first the ousted bum- mer, and then the building from which he had been expelled, with a d en nod, ‘‘(Hic) That galoot’s full, too!” he muttered, withagrin. “ kon he’s got loaded up (hic) an’ wasser’in ze way,so they bounc’im out. My turn comes (hic) next, so git out ther trough!” And straight up to the door, and into the Crimson Palace went the pilgrim from the in- terior, bent on finding the source from which emanated something to drink. Within the Palace a scene was revealed that at first ap ed to dazzle the miner, for he — by the door to take a survey before ven- uring further into the place. The interior of the building was all in one great, hy apartment, with arched frescoed ceiling, and walls that were hung with crimson gerd The floor, too, was handsomely car- peted with crimson plush rugs and filled with mahogany deal tables and upholstered chairs. At one side of the room was a bar, behind which were shelves of bottles and crimson glasses, and a mighty mirror; at the further end of the “ay was a small stage, stocked with scenery, which was evidently used for shows, The inmates of the saloon, as beheld in the | light of the mighty crimson chandeliers, were a ' motley gang—men of dark and evil appearance eho pees although there were present ' fops and dandies, roughly-clad miners, women young and pretty, in ma cent toilets, in waiter-girl costumes, and in ballet-dancing array. AL of these were scattered around at the tables where various games were in prog or at the bar where the merry clink of ¢ resounded, or were flitting around in dance in a cleared portion of the mammot apartment, to the music of a violin and piano. Nowhere except in those wild western towns and cities are these strange places and scenes peculiar, and although he fad traveled through nearly every mining town from California to Oregm, Bill Barclay, miner, had never be- held a scene as dazzling before, or at least that was his present confused opinion. Be eee ee ee ae ae 4 Soe ies RR eR Rew ent 5 cab db aa 96 ed eee eRe ates sae ees tb Coad PF ee ie ° rs i RS emit tee eek eA Ae eRe e eT TP His entrance at once attracted attention as was evidenced by a shower of glances toward. him, and a young woman rose from her seat at one of the tables, and glided toward’ him—a magnificently formed creature, of the medium hight of women, and not yet out of her’ teens, evidently, attired in a rich costume of com- bined silk, velvet and laces, with diamonds in her ears, at her throat and upon ker fair fin~ gers—pretty as a picture in face, with a tempt- ing mouth, dusky but magnetic «yes, ana @ confusion of puffe:! aud frizzed brown hair, A fascinating appearing creature she ap- peared, such as is ce pable of winning the notice of every man who comes along, and then scorning him, when she had exuausted: his. wer ! “Welcome, pard!” she said, pleasantly, put- ting out a fair jeweled han. ‘I’m glad you’ve come if there’s any fun in you, The crowd to-day is dull and stupid—no fun in them.” “Ts’er werry funny, (hic) sometimes!” Bar clay assured, with a tipsy chuckle—‘ werry funny (hic). Have’r drink wi’ me?’ ‘Of course I will, you darling, if you’ve- got any rocks,” the girl assured, taking his arm and leading him tothe bar. ‘* You’re the first decent pilgrim I’ve captured today. My name: is Edna Earle, the Diamond Queen—also, the Queen of Hearts. Give us your attachment, my agg **Oh, I’m Bill Barclay, miner, right dowm from Leopard Lode (hic)!” the other replied, be pags ‘An’ I's’er got ther rocks, ba ou bet. ’asser have ter (hic) wet yer w Jor ‘Oh! Pll take some bug-juice, straight,” the oung woman replied coolly, ‘‘and after a while we'll have some champagne—something just imported from France, you know, what ent ag warm blood tingling through your veins ‘“Zactly !” Barclay muttered, as they received and dispatched the beverage at a swallow, the- miner paying for it out of a-handful of gold coin he drew from his pocket. ‘‘Cham e besser’n bug-juice. You’ser brick, ole girl— you’ser— you ser—you’ser daisy. Ever git ‘Oh! no,” Edna Earle replied, with a laugh. “Inever drink enough to feel it. But comet yonder is a retired table and chairs where we = sit down, as I see your legs are pretty weak. “‘ Yes (hic), I’s’er full’s er b’iled owl, but zer nary er galoot as’ser can throw me, now!” the miner declared, as he allowed himself to be led away. ‘Kin jick any ozzer man in zer room: fer ten dollars!” ‘No! no! you must not fight!” the Diamond Queen said, pulling him on. ‘ You come with me, and don’t get into trouble, for this isa hard hole, and a single man don’t stand much of a show in a row!” ‘Wasser you doin’ here, then?’ Barclay sud- denly demanded, gazing at her with a ti stare, as if his suspicions had struggled out of' the fog of intoxication that muddl is brain. “Wasser you doin’ here?” ‘“‘Oh! I’m here on business. I gamble for money, and win!” the woman replied, with a Sango laugh. ‘‘I am somewhat a stranger here, having been here but a couple of days. “Oh!” Barclay said, accepeing the explana- tion. ‘‘ Have’r shampagne?” ‘“* Of course,” and the girl signaled to one of the short-skirted waiter girls, ‘You area stranger here, eh?” “Stranger? wa’al, yes—werry much stranger. Come down (hic) from’er mines, an’ meet some said (hic) cronies, an’ getter full as’ser b’iled iw “Got rich up in the mines, I ; resume?” the Diamond Queen suggested, inquisitively. “*Nozzer ‘zactly rich,” the miner re lied, thoughtfully—“ gozzer much as I want, tho’, and he hefted his valise, satisfaction beaming from his fiery eyes. aries all in rae ; (hic)— gozzer more, too; v e papers (hic) as’ser — all’s "bout itor son ov ’er lord—old gland—wuth’er millions—y-you bet yer boots!” And off the miner went into some incoherent mutterings that could not be defined. The eyes of the Diamond Queen, however, gleamed with interested animation; she ap- suddenly to have grown nervous and ex- cited, but put forth every effort to keep the fact from the notice of the man from the interior. This was not a hard matter, for his eyes were getting heavy and his mental faculties dull. Crimson Palace said, striking him 'd be entertaining and gay?
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he ee ome 2 0 ae ** O’ course’r willl’, Barclay muttered, straigh- toning up, pereeptibly., »** Wuzzer drink wi? you us’ser, any ozzer girl, you bet.» You’ser ‘brick — you’ser beauty !” eit! verte “Yes, I’m a ‘brick!” the young woman re- lied, sarcastically, ‘and a , too, perhaps, vo fallin love witha tipsy P grim like you. “Wasser zat?’ Barclay demanded, brighten- ing up. _‘** You’ser love:me?” “Shi not so loud—yes, Ilove you with all sny heart!’’ was the reply. the world, and rich too, and you are just taking to my eye. Vd marry you in a minnit, if I had the chance?” “You’ser would?’ the miner muttered, sur- veying her witu drunken interest. “Of course I would. I could soon cure you of your appetite for drink, and I am sure we | Don’t you should get along nicely together. think so, Billy? ‘* Ragzer reckon you’ser (hic) right. brick, you be, an’ purty as’ser polecat. G’esser couldn’t get a better ’un.” ‘What! you don’t mean that you will take me | :.3 your wife?’ the scheming girl said, in ‘pre- tended surprise, oy : f ‘*O’ course’r will,” was the reply. “Then; lam happy. When shall we go and get married?” ‘““Jesser soon’ser ready!” Barclay decided, with tipsy promptness. ‘‘ ser ready now.” “7 will be in a moment!” the young woman eaid, rising hastily. ** I will get my wraps, and ‘ake you to my father’s house, in the Chinese quarter.’ There we will send for a minister, who will marry usat once. While lam getting veady, you may finish the bottle of champagne.” The young miner from the interior needed no “‘T am all alone in | to'the‘time when he lost all consciousness. You’ser | second invitation, and accordingly tackled the | bottle, as the Diamond queen glided away. No pilgrim was he to quail at tackling a half a bottle of champagne, and cousequently the iiquor bad disappeared long ere Edna Earle re- | appeared, which was in a few moments. She was now enveloped in a water-proof cloak and | hat, and a vail was tied down over her face, evi- | dently to hide her identity. She found Barclay going off into a doze. The large quantity of bug-juice he had im- bibed, together with the champagne had com- bined to nearly ‘‘ do for” him. “Come!” the Diamond Queen said, shaking him by the arm. “Rouse up and come with me, ham ready.” Barclay cbeyed, accepting her arm as su rt, as he could not have walked alone. volubility had vanished, inasmuch as the cham- pagne had thickened his tongue beyond utter- ance, Many curious glances were turned upon the Diamond Queen and her tipsy companion as she led him into the street, by the inmates of the Crimson Palace, but nota word was uttered, regarding her, und more curious glances were leveled at her as she conducted her charge along the street, although it is no uncommon sight in the ‘ast city of Frisco, to see women piloting along intoxicated men. ‘ | | ef | ' the cellar. They A group of young men stood upon the corner , of Bush street as the Diamond Queen passed by, und from one there escaped a sarcastic laugh, “Look! boys,” he said, in cynical tone— ‘yonder is the Diamond Queen, and she’s made a haul, by Jove! Lucky dog, that bummer, sure’s my name is Grafton!” Barclay heard the words, and, drunken sot | opened onto the’ street: ' Bonanz. Gill, Miner. precipitous flight of stairs, but that was all, | headache,’ * © ~ Before trying to discover whére he wa he’ lay still upon his back; and. recall 3: ons. pearances; Barclay -concluded. repose is the cofhin for. pany, we Was? about to replace the lid on the coffin, when he caught sight of a piece of white paper pie a rom tie lining of the coffin, and see Biel he gresped it, with curiosity. \* On pulling it from its concealment, he found it to. be a sheet of foolscap, closely written on what had happened; as‘ well as he was able, up | two sides, and it was moldy and rotten, ‘Bill’ Barclay, you’ve been on a big drunk!” was his first soliloquized conclusion. dulged in. And the next thing before “ther probate court, is where and how are you?” * him. The first glance disclosed the fact that he was lying apon the bottom of a damp, recking cel- lar, in which was stored several -varicti~s of, decaying vegetables, and also some boxce in a || further corner, and a few empty barrels, The place was lighted by a few gray rays of light eoming through a No other mode of access to or egress fromthe cellar was visible, :so far ns the miner was able to discover from his'position, « © ©. °°" “‘T wonder how I came iin here¥’ he muttered, reflectively ‘TI’ certainly, was too drank to crawl through that grating, and there don’t appear to be any other way to get in.’ ~ And, too, what became of ‘the gal Who called ‘herself the Diamond Queen? e Was to seh monrried, Iremember, but if this is the way she “serves her bridegroom, IT’ opine Pl! cancel dates.’ Thé’| andisent.to Van’ Dieman's soft side of a slab is better than an old cellar bottom, I opine.” ' ra Feeling of himself to see if he was all re ey the miner rose to his feet, and proceeded | make an investigation. ; i The result was to find no other place of en- trance to the cellar, save the grating. And as the hole covered by the said grating was not | to renew m over one foot aud a half by two, in ‘size, he was | satisfled that he did not come in through that way. The only conclusion left him was that he was still in a fog. grating that evi ently | i If any exit or entrance there was, other than’ through the grated aperture, it must be a secret one in one of three directions—through the} bottom of the cellar, through the rough stone walls, or through the board ceiling overhead. The latter, Barclay concluded, was the most possible of all the places. Yet he could not, with what light was afforded by the little win- dow, discover any signs of a trap or an opening, “Waal, Tl be hanged; I don’t see how they t mein here, or how Tam going to get out,” e soliloquized, moving about in the gloom, % Hello! t wonder what’s in these boxes! May- be I shall find an outlet, by tearing them away.” Strong were the arms of the miner, and act- ing upon impulse, he began to tumble away the boxes, one by one, toward the opposite side of had some day been dry goods boxes, but were now moldy and damp. A half dozen of them Bill Barclay rushed out of his way; then he stopped short, with an exclam- ation of surprise. Before vim, protruding from between two boxes was the end of a coffin box! A rude affair, to be sure, yet the end of a rough ' pine coffin box. though he was, he wheeled around with a/| growl, and struck the speaker a heavy blow | full in the face. Then Edna Earle pulled him on. They soon reached and entered the Chinese district—that black spot in the reputation of the Ning City of the American Pacific, It was now dark, and the bleak November :ain drizzled down even faster. The street through which they went was nar- 'ow, filthy and ill-smelling, and lined on either . de by low dingy houses, from which emanated: »srange and uninvitinyz sounds not calculated to . svorably inspire a listener. dna Earle, however, seemed to pay no at- ‘sation to the sounds or sights, but kept on, and - 5 for Bill Barclay his head and train were too ‘auddled to notice anything. His feet moved more from mechanical un- steadiness than from inclination to go, and he was so very tipsy that he was not sure whether he was afoot or on horseback, nor did he care which, His power of comprehension of course grow momentarily duller, until he absolutely ew b Rayan Lhe | ‘By heaven! LPve got into a tomb, I should judge, if I kuow anythIng about it,” the miner muttered, eying the box, suspiciously. * Pve heerd say that a nose that can distinguish good bug-juice from bad, can smell anything, and I’ve had a notion this old ranch smelled rat unhealthy. Reckon some galoot was so all-fired homely that he stowed hisself back in here, where no one would be apt to find his corpus. Hang me if I don’t take a peep at hisold system, anyhow, since I’m first man to discover the bonanza.” But few men who would not have been timid about disturbing a box of human remains, but Bill Barclay hesitated not. He was possessed of a good stock of courage—had roughed it for several years in the territories, and a dead per- son had no terror to him. _ Accordingly, he pulled the coffin box out from between the other boxes, and pried off the lid_wit the blade of his hunting knife. On raising the lid he found that the rough box was but the overcoat toa finer coffin, which was also serewed shut. Lifting the cofiin from the box, Barclay CuEetts vue “td weg With it in his, hands he mounted one of the boxes aiear the grated window, and set himself “You've |, at the task of deciphering the cramped and near- | been upon a tear, such as you never before in- _ly Mlegible chirography. in Tt was evidently the dying revelation.of the. man Whose’ skeleton Barclay had found in, the: Crawling to an elbow rest, ne peered around | coffin, and ran as follows: aed ‘ “San Francisco, 187—.. "Te all whom it may concern ; ; “Know ye that I, Jarecki Armstrong, murderer, thief; troad-agent,’ ocean pirate, poisoner, forger, counterfeiter, ' burglar, incendiary and ° villain -ct- lange am narrowing down to the end of my career. After a strangely eventful life.in the service of the devil, oneof whose brightest. stars I was, 1 have, rived at the age of e four years, Rake dont ty- ‘| stares me in the face—-death by PORE EOD, which, ookin ‘Tohave had for-ovéer a score of years. In back over my past life to-day, the impulse has seize me totake a pen; and. jot down a few items of my life highary « for the edifleation.of » whoever may J this, inasmuch,as I have beenjone of the most wick- w Sprove froma great English , and at the ; ® lord o ~and notorions buccaneers known to the O'! world sailing der vario At th f ; world: under v us names, © age © thirty-two I,became cracksman and murderer in the city of London, and haunted that city until I. was fitty years of age, when I came to, Western America, M career of crime. “All my life, my sole delight has been to do some- thing devilish and wicked. The greater the crime the more it pleased me, ™“ The, first ten years of my life in America I de- voted to every phase of crime defined in the diction~ ary, I.was.a fire flend in Chicago, a forger in Cheyenne, a road-agent in Oregon, a cutthroat ia Montana, a counterfeiter—ay, I was everything evil. ‘ou can imagine. “ And now, before paying the final debt of nat I have res tne and put into motion the randeet criminal iievement of the whole of my life—the Teaene of Twelve. Yor over a year I have been seeking women of a will to serve me and the devi), and have them at last collected. Each one has a, fascination for one particular sin, and has taken an awful oath to make that sin the consuming fire of her life—that sin to be her constant_erime by which to bring gold into the coffers of the League, who are. bound together as one, until sufficient gold has collected to build a monument over my grave of solid gold, the lettering to be of priceless diamonds. “The League is to be commanded by one of' the most exquisitely beautiful women in the world, of erage. Ihave fitly named her as Madam Mys- tery. She it is who carries all my papers, all all my love. Iu. behalf of the fo e, ahe fe No, 2.is the strangler; No, 3 is the burglar;. No. 4, the robber; No, 5, the pickpocket; No, 6, she counte eiter; No, 7, the grave-robber; No, 8, t isoner; No. 9, the gambler; No. 10, the libelist; No, the.torturer, and No, 12 the tracer and decoy. No effort-to find them will be availing, for they are hid- den. away where the sharpest eyes would not think of lo or them,, Ha! ha! itis a grand scheme, ). r I must stop, My life is ebbing ou& me-~ “The League of Twelve, Who dig and delve In the service of the devil, Shall reach the acme of their hopes And find the highway level. “ Bigned, “* JARECKI ARMSTRONG, “The Man of a Thousand Aliases.” That was all. The singular document ended as strangely as it had beguu, and Bill Barclay stood m the old cellar, P i bereeyles over: the. strange revelation that had been made to him. \ CHAPTER II. ONE YEAR LATER. ‘Ruin! disaster! disgrace stares me in the face. Oh, God! that I could arrive at the truth of the matter—that I could only discover the agent of the conspiracy that is sapping away my financial strength, that I might tear out his heart!” The scone was in the magnificently appointed wary of one of San Franciseo’s avert: bank
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—— eee heen Seb and substitute that of vens. The characters of the scene were the bigee’ banker, who pes up and down thé room, wit nervous tread and pale, agitated face; his pret- ty daughter Zoe, who reclined in an easy-chair, and Sydney Seelyice, the son of the banker's second wife. Right here let us pause a moment, to describe, rather than later. Bernard Havens was a portly man of medi- um hight, with a face that the hand of time had somewhat wrinkled, but which was not yet wholly homely. His hair and slight “ Burn- sides” were iron-gray, and his eyes, as well as ae were pas and peony ss ah and fro across his sumptuous or-library, hie bande. folded behind: his back: and head bowed. Sydney Seelyice was a dapper little snob of effeminate appearance, with a sallow, sickly ecomplexion, and eyes, mustache and hair of the same hue, while his attire was characteristic of his own idea of himself—very nobby. Zoe Havens was one of those plain girls who are most pretty. She possessed a form, and a clear, well-chiseled face, with eyes, of deepest hazel, and hair tinted a dusky brown. Many a critic would no doubt have pronounced her homely, because she was not over gay and. a votary of the very latest fashions, bard attire was viet hart ee oe bowl move- ments were grace ut no g; her was sound, interesting and chaskbtortio ot education and intelligence, but not voluble or addicted to fashionable slang. . No ** flas ” maiden was Zoe Havens, but a “level-headed girl, whose eighteen years had not been spent without bringing to her those most indispensable qualities in wome . quiet beauty, and quiet knowledge of the world-at-large, and the moving characters thereof. An expression of anxiety now mantled her face, however, and tears stood in her eyes caus- ing them to glisten like diamonds; mony ee smoking a cigarette in an arm-chair a few f away, thought he had never seen her look so tty as now. ‘But is there no way to detect the thief, and eheck the drain, dear papa?’ Zoe asked, in reply to the banker’s words. ‘‘Can no trap be set that will catch the robber?’ “No! no! dear; you do not understand. It is not in the burglar form that I am_ bei robbed, but entirely by another system. cheeks and forged drafts and forged notes are what is doing the mischief. They are 4 in every day. Only this morning a note was presented sn me by the —— Bank, for five thousand dollars, bearing my signature—I could have sworn it was mine—and being several days everdue, I of course was obliged to pay it, or leb it go to protest, and thereby sacritice my honor as a prompt business man. If these drains continue, 1 shall be penniless within three months.” “Tm afraid so, too, daddy,” Seel said, withayawn, *“ You certai y ought to have an investigation made among your igen “Ah! my boy, you talk foolishly. 8 nota man within my bank whom I could not trust with any amount, or under any cirocum- stances. No! no! it is not there I have to look, a it is outside parties who are working the ‘** Put some good detective on the track, papa. You will never detect the criminals, until you do,” Zoe said, phe as she rose and took ab semigaly arm and looked pityingly up into ACE, Detectives!” the banker said, with a sudden sneer—“‘bah! I’d not trust the pick of them; they’re all a set of meddiesome Bohemians, liv- ing on their wits, and a five dollar note would k ay. ~ best of them over to the service of the clevil. “But George Grafton, papa—he is a trust yontleman, and they say a very expert tracer “oe suggested, an expression of sunny hope «reeping into her demure eyes. - Baht a miserable Bohemian loafer, whom your girlish fancy has pictured a hero, because he chanced to save you from a hoodlum mob Yoo, you must dispel all thoughts of that fellow; he is not worthy of your notice.” “Daddy is right,” Seelyice accorded, shoot- ing Zoe a triumphant glance. . .“‘The fellow, Grafton, is a consummate rascal—a gambler and a Bohemian bummer, and I am sure ma belle Zoe can make a better choice.” “No doubt you may believe T might get ao | Hornerate as to accept you!” the banker's dangh- a - Bonanza Bill, Miner. ter i her lip slightly curling with con- tem Pp ‘* Ah! there is always hope as long as there is life,” the young man replied, with a bland smnile, ‘‘I am sure daddy would not object to such a match.” “Tt matters not!” Zoe ay pai very decided- ly. ‘‘ Whoever I marry, if I marry at all, you may rest assured that you will not be the man,” * Ah! do not say so, my fair step-sister. The minds of people change so often, as well as cir- cumstances, that one may always hope when their chances seem most slim,” Seelyice laughed, coolly, as he arose and sauntered from the room. After he had gone, Bernard Havens turned to his daughter, an anxious expression upon his face. ‘You should not thus discourage the boy, Zoe. He will coentaalty be a rich and man, as his little gold-mine, up near ye is gradually growing more profitable, and I be ieve he would make you a good hus- ‘Don’t think of such a thing, papa, dear,” Zoe replied, earnestly. ‘‘Sooner than m Sydney Seelyice, I'd remain an old maid my life. Idonotlikehim. He is soft, shallow and effeminate, and, I t, has a disposition to be treacherous. When I gett I want a aR DOIN Fon. Tenses. 2nd, 200 up to, as brave and fearless. Sydney entvion is not, nor ever can be.” ‘Well! well! I will not argue with you, my dear, for I have truly greater troubles to wo meé, but I trust you will treat Sydney wit more favor. I must now go to the bank, for a few hours, and see what is to be done.” “Oh! porel if you would but consent to lay your case before Mr. Grafton, I am sure—so sure, at gould and woul help you. - young, keen of perception, sharp in invention, and a to draw correct conclusions. I am sure he would ferret out the whole mystery, and thus check pone losses.” “Well! well! pet”—and the banker smiled fondly down upon her—‘“‘ yous faith in the fel- low is certainly very abundant, and they say a woman’s faith is much to be depended upon; so I wi ider your appeal and perhaps call upon him. And, now, a kiss, and I will he ne. o The kiss was readily given, and then the banker left his handsome mansion, and walked toward the business part of the city, in prefer- ence to riding. The bank of which he was sole proprietor and director, was one of those man © structures that do credit to the city of Frisco, and hesoon arrived there and entered, proceeding at once to his private office upon the second floor, Several letters lay upon the desk awaiting ex- amination, and laying aside his hat and coat, he seated himself to peruse them. They were mainly business letters from other banking in- stitutions, but there was one that Bernard Havens held in his hand and regarded in curi- osity, before opening it. It was inclosed in a yellow envelope, and di- rected in a bad hand, with poor ink. “T wonder who can be the author of this rude scrawl?” he mused, reflectively. ‘‘Surely none of my regular correspondents. He final tore it open, and glanced over the contents, his face gradually assuming a hard, grim look. The missive was illy written, mis- spefled, and dirty. It ran as follows: *Mistar Bernarp Havens: *T rite this few lines ter let ye no thet ther time y vhased y ired, tu-day, an’I | pay AR oe eee SS ce hlaae ‘b | way of gt hae out criminals and crimes.” am goin’ ter make yu hump, like 8, yu bet. I’ve t the gal, uy es she’s in Frisco—an’ she eo”, ror up ter be a smashin' yung woman, an’ you" find her all rite. Now yore got ter,oust out her uther gal, an’ put my gal a -you'll git w'at ye doan't want. The gal nose she’s fee darter, an’ ther air ter them big estates over in ngland, an’ she'll call on ye pee. uick ter take persession o’ ther premises. Mebbe I'll cum down an’ see how matters jibe, purty soon, an’ til yer see me, I remane youre obedient servant: * Jake McDowe..” “P.§S. Doan't get on yur ear, but submit ter ther inevitable." As he finished the epistle, the banker leaned back in his chair, and groaned aloud. “My God! I hoped the villain was dead!” burst from his lips, ‘‘ But he is. still alive, and EE ak IN IN A OE RAY FO 8 area it? The arch villain is ready to swear that his claimant is my daughter—she whom he stole from her cradle, when a babe and spirited away, leaving his own child in her stead. No! no! it is a lie—a damnable scheme on his part to make his child the heiress to the great inheritance. Yet how can 1 prove this? Alas! inno way! # am without weapons of defense. not know it But, Zoe must . et—she must live on in the even | tenor of her life, ignorant of all the great im: | pending trouble, until in some manner I can re- move it. I must approach this Mabel McDowel and buy her off, until Ican get to work—until Ican get proof of her falsity—until in some way, if I have to overthrow heaven and earth, I can save the Havens inheritance for Zoe; or—” and a dark cloud came over the banker's face, as he rrp gon Msg at the handsomely framed portrait of a boyish face that hung on the wall above his desk—‘‘ or for him, who has for fifteen long years been a—a—God knows what. Oh! Ray! Ray! where are you, as I look upon your handsome boyish face—my son—my long-lost boy. ik overcome with emotion the banker bow- = a head forward upon his desk, and wept ently. He finally straightened up, however, and brushed the tears from his eyes. “T am weak,” he muttered, huskily. “ It nearly prostrates me to recall the But I must not weaken, now. All my strength shall be required to battle with mine enemies. I will take Zoe’s advice and go and see the fellow Grafton. Perhaps he may be able to help me in some way, and I shall need the counsel and aid of some trusty person.” Donning his coat, Bernard Havenss seized his hat and quitted the bank. He remembered of noticing a dingy little office on Coast street, once, bearing the sign of George Grafton, and thither he now wended his way to find that the din been replaced by a new brick one; of about the saine size, but looking much better than its pre- decessor. The door was open, and the banker entered to find the interior furnished with simple but neat taste, and a young man seated in an easy- chair, with heels elevated upon his desk, en- office had recently gaged in smoking a cigar reading a news- fi e was threeor four and _°__ ty your? -f age, well formed and not unhandsome in face, witha fine mustache and curling hair, and a brown eye, whose keenness was penetrating. The heels and paper came down with a jerk, as the banker entered, and he was handed an easy-chair with a cordial ‘‘ Good-day, sir.” “Thank you,” he said, becoming seated. ‘I called to have a little with George Grafton, the detective. Is he in?” “That is my name,” the detective said, bow- ing. “* Anything I can do for you?” ‘Yes, perhaps there is. 1 was referred to you by my daughter, who appears to know you, or of you. My name is Havens.” “Ah! yes,” Grafton said, nodding; “I thought your face was familiar, having seen you several times. Your estimable daughter I ave had the pleasure of meeting on several oc- casions, and am pleased that she should remem- ber me. If there isanything I could do for yo, I am sure I shall take pleasure in doing it. “Very well, sir. I suppose you have had | some experience in your line of business?” “Yes, sir; I flatter myself that I have had con- | siderable experience and success in my calling. Nearly every week I get something to do in the Then I will briefly state my case,” the | banker said, which he did, relating in detail bel inf ber plage, or how he had been troubled with forged checks, notes and drafts. When he had finished, George Grafton took out a memorandum-book, and jotted down the substance of what he had heard. CHAPTER III. AN ALLIANCE—A WARNING. “You are not the only one thus afflicted,” the detective said, “although you, perhaps, have been bled a little the strongest. I have had my attention called to the case before, but determined. Would to Heaven [had proof, but ; have been able to make no discovery of the I have none. had hoped to keep all from her. her heart to know that she is not my daughter, | but the offsprine of the man McDowel. She is tmy child—i wili nover. never believe different. The other isan imrostor fo sed. upon me by ’McDowel. Yet, oh! Heaven! how oan bl priv> eee Z Zoe must know the worst—yet I | robbers. The depredations are committcd, I It would break should judgo, by an organized gang of thorough rascals, to whom may also be laid a great sare of what is at present known in this city as a rei of crime—strange murders, burglaries, incen arisins and bank robberies.” “Sern are onMtorhtcdly right,” the canker ‘a ' > i 7 a Ne ’
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- other than your daughter?” po SEE VE nr Ree ae 2s enh oe said, approvingly, “andif you can bring the | white felt turned up on one side and fastened Bonanza Bill, Miner. offenders to justice it will -be a great help to pee b Yonplecr ays feather and pin. In a belt . | about ua. “T shall work to accomplish that end, most certainly,” Grafton said, ‘and lshall give your case particular notice, as you are the heaviest loser. By the ip before you go, I have a few questions to put that we detectives always use —some of then: very impudent, perhaps, but yan necessary to us in order that we may now just where to begin, without beating around the bush. The first one is: are you married to a second wife?” ““T have been married, but my second wife died shortly after our marriage.” ‘You are sure of this?” “Certainly.” Grafton paused to jot down something on his memorandum; then continued: ‘‘Have you any confidants in your business ‘* Noue,” was the reply. “You have a step-son?” “T have.” “Does he not know anything concerning your business?” ‘Very little, sir, as I never took him into my confidence.” ‘* Have you any aes whatever with fast men or women, Mr, Havens?” ** None, sir.” “Ts there any party of suspicious character, in the city, who has a sample of your chirogra- phy and signature?” **I hardly know. Ido considerable corres- mdence with business and banking firms, but eo aseparate signature that I use in filling out banking business. There is only one other person that has been able to master it.” ‘* Who is that?” ‘* His name is Barrister, and he is my cashier?” ‘‘A man of unblemished character, I pre- sume?” ‘‘ Most assuredly. He has been in my em- ploy for nent | years.” “Very well. You may leave your signature with me, if you please, as it may be of use to me. This the banker did, writing upon a card in a Mack & odd style, and handing it to George Graf- n ‘Is there anything else?” “ One thing, yet—is there any woman in the city for whom you have a fancy, or to whom you have been paying attentions with a view to matrimony ?” “T must decline to answer that question, sir, as it can have no bearing upon the case!” the banker said, stiffly, as he rose and buttoned his coat, preparatory to departing. ap Oh! all right—no offense, I trust, sir, as the question is one of our formula.” “‘Nooffense,” wasthereply. ‘* If you discoy- er and bring the yo ee to justice, I will hand you five thousand dollars as my recognition of our services.” And then bowing haughtily, © wealthy banker donned his hat, seized his cane, and strode from the office. George Grafton whistled a few snatches from the opera of “La Somnambula,” and trimmed his finger-nails with scrupulous care, before he allowed his thoughts to merge into comment. “ T hit closer than Isupposed I was going to,” he muttered, glancing through the window after the stately banker, who was just turning a distant corner. ‘So Miss Zoe’s model papa is negotiating fora new Mrs. Havens, eh? ell, well—perhaps he has a right to. It won't be amiss for me to find out whether it’s a miss that he’s after. As for this wholesale forging busi- ness that is going on, I must set my wits to work, and get at the bottom of it. It appears to me that the city is overstocked with crimi- nals, or else all the Covey is created by a few devils consolidated into a league.” ““Waal, I opine, stranger, you’ve hit the nail squar’ on the head; thar is a gang of the helli- ons, known as the League of Twelve, an’ you an’ I ar’ ther pilgrims as must ferret out ther case!” It was a deep, cool voice that uttered the words, and George Grafton gazed around with a start, to behold a stalwart stranger standing in the doorway. No common appearing per- sonage—a young man of handsome features and an equally handsome figure—with face browned by exposure to the sun, eyes dusky and pene- trating in their expression, and long hair and graceful mustache—a man whose appearance was mo: extraordinary on account of his dress which consisted of a suit of handsomely tanned buckskin, fringed with human hair, evidently; _ top-boots of the cavalry pattern but of the finest leather, and a wide-rimmed slouch hat of , Fu ; : \ 4 \ | is waist was a heavy revolver and a sheathed-knife. Seldom in the latter days of Frisco are armed men seen upon the streets, but here was one dashing stranger who boldly stalked about with weapons displayed, in defiance of the city ordi- nances. George Grafton made a quick inventory of him, and at once decided that he was what the people of the Far West term a ‘‘ hummer.” ‘*T presume you were addressing your re- marks to me,” the detective said, rising and wheeling forward a chair, ‘‘T opine yes,” the dashing nda pa replied entering the office and accepting the pro ered seat. ‘I was passing by when I chanced to get a view of your phiz, and remembering it, con- cluded to cast anchor, which I did, in time to hear a portion of your soliloquy.”’ “* Just so,” Grafton replied; ‘‘ but you have the best of me; 1 cannot say that I know you.” “Think not? Well, per 52 our memory ain’t as retentive as mine. ect, however; don’t ye remember something that occurred just one year ago to-day?” “T have a safer memory than that given me by nature,” the detective replied, with a smile, and he turned to a large diary that lay upon his desk. ‘Ah! one event of a year ago to-day was not particularly interesting tome. I was knocked down by a drunken pilgrim, whom a tg female gambler of this city had in w! ** And that drunken pilgrim was I,” the visitor said, with a quiet laugh. ‘* You made some re- mark thet didn’t strike me favorably, and my right arm spasmodically went out like the leg of a burro. To-day I remembered your face.” Grafton smiled, rather grimly. “You have considerable cheek to come here and tell me of it,” he said. “Of course,” the other replied. ‘Cheek is one of the component parts of my composition. Without it, I could not exist. I trust you cher- ish no malice toward me, because of the little affair of a year ago?” “Well, no, I guess not. You were drunk at the time, and a drunken man is hardly responsi- ble for what he does.” ‘Karect! and I offer you all the spology in the world. LIopine I was pretty drunk that day. It was my first and last visit to Frisco, until to- day, when I’ve come back to raise a_breeze, Your name is George Grafton—mine is Bonanza Bill Barclay, frum the interior. You are a de- tective; I propose to engage in a little of the same line, myself, and so suggest that we ot Ror th f hat?” or the purpose of investigating—what “The forgery business you were soliloquizing about. I hold a valuable key. Read!” And taking from an inner ket a sheet of stained ee Barclay handed it to the detec- tive, for hwith. George Grafton read it, a quiet gleam of en- thusiasm entering his eyes. ‘*By Jove! itis the very thing!” he exclaim- ed, slapping Bonanza Bill upon the shoulder as he finished. “Tt is worth thousands of dollars, that document. I have suspected the existence of some such league of crime, but have had no proof of it. Tell me where you found this piece of evidence.” . Barclay obeyed by relating how he had dis- covered the document in the coffin that he had unearthed in the old cellar in the Chinese quar- te r. ** And,” he added in conclusion, ‘‘one of the persons 1 am now anxious to encounter, is the oung woman whom you saw leading me from the Siiensn. Palace. She led me into the Chinese quarter, and then my senses fled. When I awoke I found myself in the cellar, asI have related. I made my escape through a trap that opened into an empty room. above; the whole building then being tenantless. The Diamond meen must have taken me tothe cellar, and then fled with a valise which I had brought along, as I f=‘led to find any trace of it. The valise contained gold and greenbacks to the amount of over eight hundred dollars, besides valuable papers that I would not have lost for all the gold in California. It is for those papers that [am now in search. I must find them— will find them, if I have to search heaven and earth!” The miner had grown greatly excited, and now smote the table by which he sat witha blow that caused it to jingle. “Did you search for the Diamond Queen after your escape from the cellar?’ Grafton asked. — ** Yes; about a week I spent in endeavoring to / / § find her, which was as long as I could beat the restaurants.out of my board. I then was obliged to hoof it.back to the mines to recooperate my finances.” | “You had the valise when you entered the Chinese district?”. ) “'Yes—the woman was carrying it, 1 think.” “Then she was undoubtedly the thief, And it occurs to me, also, that this same woman may be one of this eague of Twelve, since you found yourself in the cellar where thecorpse of the old outlaw was concealed. Don’t you think sof” “Yes, Ihave thought of the same thing, as there is a significance init. The first thing Is to find the Diamond Queen.” ‘Hardly. She is not at the Crimson Palace any more, and I don’t know where she is. sides, if, indeed, she be a member of the League of Twelve, the stolen valise was undoub ly turned overinto the hands of Madam Mystery, the forger, who, according to the document here, is chief cook and bottle-washer of the gang, So to her you will have to look tofind your papers, it’s my opinion.” Ae ee you are right,” Barclay admitted. “Somebody must hash up the spoils, 1 am not particular who it is.” “T trust: we shall find them,” Grafton said Score - “Our first study must be to find out the head-quarters of this League of Twelve. Women though they are, they are a fierce set, and Id ten times rather tackle a desperate man than a desperate woman, And they say that women are the best hiders, too, and it will bo sharp work to distinguish those whom we want from those we don’t want.” ‘All of which is good sense,” Bonanza Bill assented, ‘“‘ but we must hunt the trail like the Comanches do, If we can but once spot a sin- gle member of the league, we are allright, I never yet struck a lead without tracing it up and finding a bonanza at the end of it. That's why they call me Bonanza Bill, Vll place you in the lead, and when you want me, Ill be thar!” “Very well. I will visit the various banks, this afternoon, yet, and see what the reward pects are, and then join you this eve nines ready for business. We will make a round o the most notorious gambling saloons, first, and watch for aclew. If we fail to find any, we will look elsewhere. I will be at the Crimson Pa'- ace, at seven, to-night, in disguise, but will 8 ily let you know who I am. From tle nm. Palace we will go to Wolf’s Ranch, which is perhaps the worst den of thieves andl cutthroats in the city, being located in tle heart of the Chinese district.” + “* Agreed; and, now, as we are goin in this game, let’s shake hands, that shake being the seal of a silent vow on our parts, of fidelity, league and alliance, until the League of Twelve is bu’sted!” “ With all my heart!” Grafton said, heartily and rising the two men grasped hands, firm) Then, after a few more words, Bonanza Pill Barclay left the detective’s office, and strode away. ; Through the streets be went with firm step, so much in contrast with the gait he had car- ried, a year before, and his dashing appeararce attracted many curious glances, and more then one policeman stepped forward with intent to arrest the bold stranger who defied the city - *snucks’ — laws by carrying exposed weapons, but, on — catching a glance from his eagle eye, these s<r- vants of the law as quickly stepped back, and allowed him to pass, for reasons best knovy.n, perhaps, to themselves. Toa principal hotel where he had previously engaged accommodations, the miner went, ed upon the center-table in his apartment, he found a letter addressed to him, Tearing it open, lo read the following, with a low whistle of sur- prise: “Sm:—Your mission, here, is known, and unless you lave the city before night, you are a doon:d man. ADAM MysTEry. ” CHAPTER IV. THE NEW CANDIDATE. No uncertain sound had this warning f Friseo’s outlaw queen—it was terse, emphatic, and meant ‘ business.” And Bonanza Bill scratched his head, as he read and re-read it, several times. ‘ “TI reckon that means me,” he muttered. “It’s addressed to Bill Barclay, an’ I allow thar ‘ain’t no two Bill Barclays in this city. ‘The 2a of Twelve knows thet I've come down ter make it red-hot fer ’em, and unless I bounce out afore night, they’re goin’ ter bounce re, Kerect! I perceive, as ther feller said, wher ‘a ran afoul an elephant in the dark. They'd Ra ‘ ad Mes ne ;
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Pally like to hey me huff it back fer Leopard i bat I'Gan’t.see-the p’int wuth a cent. I will find them, hit or miss. note, however “is received opportunely, as it puts me on’ my pure inst the League of Twelve. Ah! mA utiful siren Diamond Queen, methinks you'll ‘find me’ on your trail, directly, with the deter- wthination of a bloodhound, and the mercilessness of a'sweeping tempest.” . -/ Btowing the sere away in his pocket, the miner rung for a waiter, from whom he later ‘received a bountiful supper in his room, and did ‘full justice to it... He then lingered about the hotel until dark- ‘ness had envelo the city, when he set out for the Crimson Palace. On reaching it he entered, without ceremony. He had paid the place a visit earlier the same day, but had found nothing of Edna Earle, the } Diamond Queen. ' Nor could he discover her now. The room was partly filled with ng men ! and women,most of whom were gamblers by pro- ; fession, a few loungers and: variety performers trom the stage comprising the remainder. . q Many eyes were turne So ey Bonanza Bill, “as he entered, and sauntered about among the iy, watching the oon are 2 row h ‘No common appearing p m was he,’ { ‘one of ‘the cool characters of the mines whom { even a brave man hesitates to tackle. Even the female gamblers did not light onto ‘Barclay, with the usual avidity. f That cool, critical gleam in his eye they:were q afraid of. rs “As for the dashing miner, he paid: but. little attention to the games, as one would havevin- |: ferred by his close scrutiny of the parties inthe room, ii Op He was te morte ig or find which of the lot was George Grafton, but at last gave = nNo ! one present was there whom he ‘believedto be oe the detective, and when an hour bad’ passed he a came’ to the conclusion that perhaps Grafton bad been detained aud could .not meet his en- ement. He bad about concluded to leave fur iis hotel, when the door opened, and atigw character entered. b 40S Xk j A little old man, with a painful, hump on his back; and a stoop that rendered him very fecmee « dwarf, as he hobbled along on one ‘cruteh- — u ‘came down here to find my lost papers, and I |.: but. when he wants it, he wants it powerful bad.” vattired young woman standing upon the steps, breathed, savagely. é ful—far fromy his expectations. © ‘Bonanza. Bill; Miner. eee _oBonanza Bill themlit»a fresh cigar, and fol- | her,as long as she has the good prace to step Jowed in-his wake out into the streets. Waiting until the hump-back was several rods | in advance, he sauntered along in pursuit. Street after strect they traversed, until finally | they entered the Chinese quarter by one of its narrowest, darkest thoroughfares, ' People were hurrying to and oe waoee of | all nations and callings, the Celestials omi- | nating in numeri count. A hawiclooking crowd of citizens were these nocturnal peram- buiators, and, reg no coward he was, Bon- anza Bill Barclay kept one hand conveniently near his revolver. Enough of the wild phases of western life had he seen to thoroughly believe the saying—‘‘ a man don’t allus need a ‘weapon, The hump-back still hobbled on, and Barclay | followed. He had received instructions to do so, and he | depended much upon the shrewdness and good | sense of Grafton, whom be had set downas *‘ no | slouch,” | And, leaving the twain toiling through the | dark unenviable district of Celestials and crime, | we will turn to another scene of our romance | which calls our attention for the present. | © After Jeaving the detective’s office, Bernard | Havens hastened at once toward his own mag- | nificent residenee on B—— street. -On coming in sight of it, he saw a stylishly | in the act of ringing the bell. “With a muttered curse he bounded forward, and in-‘a moment was beside her. ** Stop!” he hissed, jerking her hand from the bell knob, fiercely. ‘‘Who are you? . Speak! telbme?” | rh oR en ty oa A the reg At aot | rep _*—_or, still ‘better, I am vens!" | ‘You lie; you are an impostor!” the banker | “But, stop! I will not anger'you. Come with me; I must have a few words with you, in private.” — {He opened the: door and entered; the woman following him. She was young, pretty, grace- dusky bro d tic i thet sail bab ‘own, and maguetic in ir glance— her hair was of the same ‘bue and bountifully puffedvand. frizzed—her features wero finely | ' my guest, but are to keep | rever to put fortb a claim upon me again. tenn - . out. of my place, I am sure.” ‘Girl! you are a heartless wretch—the same in ¥ pele your riongpe colleague. You are no daughter of mine, and I will not countenance you as such—at least, not at present. Youcare not a fig for me—you have not even a tithe of respect forme. Tell me—is this not so?” * Undoubtedly it is quite correct.” “* And your main object, therefore, must be to attain wealth and position.” ** You are right again.” “*T thought so. To be my daughter is no ob- , ject, so long as your position and money are in- sured. Now, I will make you a proposition. | want one month’s reprieve~—one month in which _ to establish proof that you are not my daugh. ter. In the meantime, you are to remain here. our mouth sealed and your hands literally chained, or in othe: words, you are not to, in amy word, manner or act, let a suspivion escape that you are other than my niece, just over from England. You shall have the hospitality of my bome, aru i ‘will spay you:a hundred dollars, down, now. During the coming month, I will set to work, to lish the proof I want, “If I prove to you beyond the shadow of a doubt’that you are not my daughter, you are to accept five thousand dollars from me and hon- orably retire from the field, binding yourself If I fail to establish this proof, within thirty days | after to-cay, I am to publicly acknowledge you } as my daughter, an remove the present Havens from the position she now occupies. There! you have a terms—the treaty cf a desperate man. fuse to accept, and I will see that you never go out of this house, except asacorpse. This room is voice-tight, the walls being double and padded. I will murder you, and then—Jake McDowel’s devilish plot for gold will be baffled, at least!” | There was a wild, determited gleam in the banker’s eyes, as he finished speaking, and a. iration stood upon his ;orehead, evidenc- ow much in earnest he was. abel McDowel heard him through as calmly as though she had been listening to a lecture of no ordinary interest, or a sleepy sermon. “*T will accept!” she said, fee “T am satisfied that you can prove nothing, and there- man with strogeling, unkempt beard and hair | molded and pretty, the: mouth wearing, a win- | fore don’t mind giving you a month’s breathing ! cf purest white, and a face:that, where not cov- — om) | spell, during which I can be a Jady from Eng- ered with hair, was a fiery color,.as. though in} })«9 ‘wrappings and hat were all costly, | Jand.. But if McDowel comes—?”’ i ‘fiamed by a too excessive use of liquor. | ' }andorich cin a ance. No such woman ha ‘*T will attend to his case. Have you a photo- ‘the ‘banker expected to see, and he led:the way | h of him?’ His garments, boots and hat were also much q ‘the worse for wear. 1A) ®o Ite “That must be Grafton,” Barclay conclided, when he had taken a good survey of the new- comer. “It is a clever disguise, if a disguiss it is, anyhow.” i} o is LT Qaeel | f On entering the saloon the old’ hump-back took his battered hat:in his right hand, and }: , began. passing itaround in hope of getting stray pennies, but was unsu . No or dis- ~ position: had-these gamblers to part with their ~ small change in the behalf of mercy or ¢ t consequently the veteran fared slimly in t Crimson Palace! A ‘half dime from Bonanza Bill, and a rusty copper from the barkeeper was . the amount of his'colectad treasures. ag Enough was. it. however, for one pur and ; ~ up to the bar hobbled the veteran, and planked his six cents upon the counter, with a suggestive » «maack of his lips, and the single order of English ?, savoring: — H é H’a ea]? wa ¥ The drink was readily served to. him, and { after pouring it down at a gulp, he turned and watched the games with quiet. satisfaction. to hi private study, with feelin ' When they were scated, fac the new claimant spoke: “You were’ evidently ee ' me, dear | gn she said, interrogatively, as she removed | of surprise. g each other, | } bar ©. » He never had one tuken.” . ‘It matters not. I will have my door ser- vant admit no one of his name.” ou r his i ; gave him as hush-money are exhausted, and be bi ‘Twas expecting you, but only since an | still considers me money to him. Now, if you hour ‘ago, when I received a uote from Jake please, you may show me my fair 1ival, as Tam McDowel.” , anxious to view her.” foist upon me. say!” fod ‘But, can you prove this assertion, sir?” | Miss McDowel asked, with unruffled calmness, “T really think not. |_McDowel claims to have | stolen me from your house, when I was but an infant, substituting bis own child in my place. | To this ond he is willing to take his oath.” reat - case swung open, and Sydney Seelyice stepped into the room, a peculiar sinister smile upon his | sallow features. CHAPTER V. 7 SEELYICE SI'OWS HIS FANGS. Nota balf hour attcr Ponanza Bill and the Bernard Havens groaned, inwardly. He | old hump-back left the Crimscu Palace saloon, foresaw that McDowell held the winning hand | George Grafton, undis; uised, but armed to the ~knew that as for himself he was without | teeth, entered it. weapons of defense. | On glancing around the 100m, and not per- “And you believe that you are my daugh- | ceiving Barclay among those gathered ‘there, ter?” he demanded, gazing at her meet | he uttered a low exclamation of disuppoint- I presume I do,” was the decided reply; ham A pe I am not averse to occupying Gradually, however, be worked around.to where Bonanza Bill bad seated himself. / “Come,” he’said in a low tone; “itis no use to linger here, as nothing will be gained. We will go to Wolf’s Ranch, in the Chinese: dis- trict. Perhaps we may be able to strike a trail there, if anywhere.” ‘You are Grafton?” Barclay demanded. “‘Of course. Is my disguise so deep as to “haffle your sharp cyes?” was the reply. “Tt is certainly perfect,” the miner declar- ~ed, “Good. It will need to be perfect, for I am: j widely known in Frisco, and as George Grafton I am not esteemed any too high in the black haunts sacred to the Chinese slum, Come! I will lead, and you can follow a few moments * bohind me, to avoid suspicion. Look out for yourself when we get in the quarter, for danger lurks there in every shadow.’ . ad ment. “‘T thought I should miss him, because of be- ing detained so late at tle office,” he muttered. ‘“* He bas probably gone back to his hctel now.” After taking a s«cond glance tu reessure bim- self that Barclay was not there, the detective f mores up to the har, and called for a cigar. | “Didn't see a fellow in here, a sLort. time ago, dressed in buckskin, frinred with hair, did you?” he asked, of the barkeeper, as he lighted the cheroot. ‘* Yes, thar was sech a feller in heer, I reckon,” was the reply. ‘‘ Wore long ha’r, an’ led gold ne ou his rig, didn’t he?” eS m,” * But have you no feelings for her who hes always been a loving daughter to me? Would you willingly deprive her of her position and send her adrift nameless?” ‘She is nothing to me,” the girl claimant re plied, with the same tormenting: independent coolness. ‘‘She is usurping my rights, and must, of course, step out. As for heing nameless, per- haps she could negotiate with McDowel for a share of bis name and fatherly protection; or, if your royal nibs thinks it too humiliating to ‘Correct. Go ahead; Dil keep you in sight!” \) boost her out of the house, I shall need a wait- Yes. : Pa With a nod and a grunt the old hap hack ing-maid, and vou cer engage her in that ca- “ Paual, he was hecr. a bit ago, but went out y whobb!od away, and soon left the saloon. ' T pacity. Ter es ye. 7 ate Wheat becomes of | directly. Duimo whar he went.” | F 1 / 5 : ) \ ' 7 ‘ . : ‘
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oo rtnee ee ** Did he yo aicne?” Waal, I ruther guess not; leastwise I see’d him talkin’ with sum pai who were made up like a beggar, and I opine they went out purty cluss ter each other. “Then by Heaven he has been tricked!” Grafton gasped, in under his breath. ‘‘Some enemy of his, or perhaps an agent of the ac- ou League has decoyed hin, pretending to be me. But how did the party know of our «ppointment, or my intention to come disguised? We must have had eavesdroppers, at our inter- view to-day.” Leaving the saloon, the detective went out upon the street. He was quite at loss what to do. Undoubtedly the dashing miner had been de- coyed, but to what part of Frisco’s great city it was no easy matter to determine, Hundreds of criminal dens abounded within the city limits, and to any one of these Barclay might have been lured. “There is work for me now, to find this miner, whom I have joined hands with, as a rd,” Grafton muttered, as he pushed along hrough the dark by-street toward Bush stree*. **] must unearth him, be he in the blackesv retreat in the city. If he has been captured by Madam Mystery and her gang, I must rescue him. I never went back on a pardner yet, and [reckon I shall not on this dashing miner. First’ of all, I will visit Wolf’s Ranch, and make observations. But, before going, 1 must disguise myself, and leave a trace behind, so that should I get trapped, there will be no difli- culty in determining as to my fate.” Making his way rapidly toward Coast street, he soon arrived at his ofice. Unlocking the door he entered, and then closed it behind him. Tighting the gas, he first seated himself at his desk, with ink, pen, and paper before him, and in a few moments, he framed the following: San Francisco, Nov —, 187—. Dear, Miss Zor: e last we met I have had the honor of a call from Fo a estimable father, and am about to assist him, if in my power. I am also going to take hold of another case, and must necessarily venture into the dark haunts of this city. To-night I am going, disguised, into the Chinese district, in search of criminals and criminal evidence, I sha , of course, run some risks, but reckon I can fight my own way. Tf, however, you do not find me at my office to-mor- row morning, you may calculate I am in trouble, and may notify the chiet of Police. Ever your dover, »Georcr GXaFrTon.” Inclosing this epistle in a envelope, ' and addressing is to Miss Havens, the detective stepped it at a neigh- from his office, and pos boring letter-box. He then. returned to hi office, and proceeded to attire himself in an en- tire change of clothing, consisting of rough, dirty home-spun jacket and’ trowsers, heavy stogy boots, and broad slouch hat, that lad-beew liber- _ ally perforated with bullets. Upon his face he ar- -ranged a sweeping sandy beard’ and mustache, ‘and also placed a shaggy wig of the same hue’ upon his head. A; first-class bullwhacker was he, in appear- ance, and arming himself with a pair of revolv- ers, he left his office, locking the door behind him, and set out through the blackness of the night for Wolf’s notorious retreat in the Chi- nese q I. reds A ae ees cow gr mo Gconclnciteds ‘Miss cDowe e gran or upon the first floor. 3 ay o Here, all in the line of elegant decoration, fur- niture and adornment, that a lavish expendi- ture of money could procure, was on exhibition, and the banker could with pride boast of one of most magnificent parlors in the Pacific city Miss McDowel surveyed the appointments with evident admiration. _“* You have a grand place, here, dear uncle,” sheisaid, in a mocking tone. ‘You must be very rich to count your appointments in so ex- pensive @ manner.” ** Were I poor, I should not have the honor of this visit from you,” the banker replied, with be Sarcasm, At this moment the door opened, and Zoe en- , tered. She was attired in a plain but rich ‘lrawing-room costume, and in the place of jew- elry, wore a little knot of delicate flowers at her throat. Quietly _pretty she looked, but hers was the contrasting beauty to the flash appear- ance of Miss McDowel. A critic on second Serre would have selected Zoe as the most faithful beauty. é ‘* Zoe, this: is Lady McDowel, my niece, from London,” the banker said, by way of introduc- vion, “TI trust you will like each other.” “That your daughter, dear uncle?” Miss Me- | Bonanza Bill, Miner. Dowel said, in pretended amazement. ‘‘ Why, how very plain she is, and—and different from what [ expected!” There was just a tithe of biting irony in her tones, and Zoe felt it keenly, a crimson flush suffusing her forehead. Bernard Havens trowned. ‘*- You are too critical, my dear Lady Mabel!” he said, reprovingly. ‘Zoe is plain in dress, from no choice but her own, but in other re- spects I believe her appearance compares favor- ably with the prettiest young ladies in Frisco.” ‘* Perhaps, dear uucle; you know the more we see of a person the better grows the impression. Will you come and kiss me, my cousin? “Tf you choose to arise, madim, I will shake hands with you!” Zoe replied, with becoming spirit. It was now Miss McDowel’s turn to flush, and an angry glitter entered her eyes. lt was mortifying to her to have her decided snub thus returned, “Oh! certainly,” she replied, rising and sweep- ing forward, gracefully. ‘I expect to make a share of the advances.” The two young women touched hands and then returned to their seats. | y Bernurd Havens felt compelled to break the | silence that ensued. ‘*T trust you had a pleasant trip across the water, Lady McDowel,” he said. ‘ These | ocean trips in Autumn are so often fraught with | peril as to render that mode of traveling un- pleasant.” ‘*Oh! I had a delightful trip all the way from London, here,” was the reply. ‘‘The ocean was orderly, and the journey across the States has been most pleasant.” Desultory conversation followed, and finally Miss McDowell asked to be shown to her room. After she had gone, Zoe turned to the banker, with a pale face and great agitation. ** Papa! who is that woman, and what brings here here?” “She is your—your cousin, my dear, and has come to pay us a visit,” the banker lied, not without perceptible agitation, | “No! no! she is not! You are deceiving me by this pretense! I am well satisfied that she isno way related tous. You never mentioned the name, of, MeDowel: in, my presence, and I know this woman is not what. you would have _ peliers. Tell me, truthfully, why is she ere ‘IT cannot!” Bernard Havens. s2id, shaking bis head. ‘I have told you all, I can, at pres- ent, She is come here, and you must.treat her respectfully... Ere long, perhaps, I can explain allio your satisfaction.” ‘Tell me, now—I must know, any secreis from me?” ‘**T cannot tell you,” the banker replied firmly. “T have a secret, and it is necessary that you should not .know its import at present, ea good girl now,-and do not seek that which would only make you miserable to know. All in due time you shall know, when, the threaten- ing cloud that now menaces us has blown over. It may not. be wrong, however, for me to tell you that the woman is my foe, but 1 must. hide my enmity undera cloak,of hypocrisy, There, now, run away, and, be a good girl, and be as you have always been, my trusting, loving Can you have daughter,” And, kissing her gently upon the forehead, the banker left the parlor and ascended to his study. .On entering he found Sidney Seelyice pean hada seated in an arm-chair, with his heels elvated at a dangerous angle, upon the nearest, desk, while he puffed demurely at a fragrant cigar. The banker frowned as he saw him, but re- frainel from speaking his surprise at finding his step-son in his private office, a place which he held sacred to his business relations. Of late Seelyice had manifested more than usual assurance, and had taken greater liberty both in word and action, and this the banker had noticed, but had said nothing. At the death of his second wife, he had promised her that he would offer Sydney a home as long as he should behave himself as a gentleman, and he had kept his promise—more, had on more than one oc- casion loaned him money in considerable sums, which the dutiful step-son had in each case for: gotten to pay back. “Good-evening, daddy,” Seelyice said, as the banker entered; ‘‘excuse my intrusion, here, but you see I’ve been spooking around in your library for a good book to read, and failing to find one, I next espied a box of cigars, and thought I'd smoke. Isee you have lady visi- tors. London.” vt oe Yee be Ras Sig SG Mens}, from 2 a ge nt SERS a EE A Te SE ee er nears | Havens briefly replied, as he seated hiwself «2 his desk. ss ' “ Alias Miss Zoe Havens, the new claimsnt for the Havens inheritance,” Seelyice obsei ved. coolly. The banker started, and whitened. ‘“What do you know about that?” he gas; ed. “Ob! I know a considerable,” the dui.cai step-son replied, triumphantly, ‘‘I chanced \« be in this room during your interview wiih |r to-day. Hearing your approach, and the evnd of an unfamiliar female voice, if naturals. ..:! timid, and secreted myself in yonder capi.c. ia bookcase. Therefore, you perceive, 1 was ivivce to be an unwilling eavesdropper.” ‘““Confound you, what business here, jn ‘hs first aa Now the devil’s to pay!” the bua kor growled. “No, I wouldn’t. pay the devil anythin; . 2s he isn’t in the case,” Seelyice laughed, cov liy “What recash you have to dispense \\..h ou can give tu me.’ / “Then: you think I will buy your silen:. (” Havens demanded, his brow growing dark v iih nang anger, “Oh! yes. Iam confident that you will con:« down, right handsomely. You can afford to > so, rather than to have me go unburden mj ivi to Miss Zoe.” * ‘* Would you be so ungrateful, after all Lhi ve done tor you?” “Ob, certainly. You see it is not often that one gains an advantage in this world, and «3 ve ained, he is the fool who does not hang on to ii. esides, my dear daddy, I have another trifi 1x claim neos you—bought it of a yds be cea a few nig ts ago, or, rather, won it, at a game «i. cards,’ ‘“ A claim, sir—what do you mean?” ‘‘A note, drawn by you in favor of Jolin Shields, miner, for $5,000,and by him transfei) +! to me!” Seelyice replied, coolly, “Bu it yen needn’t fret about it, you know, forT shal!» «:; ush the matter, but reserve the note unti. |! s accrued some interest.” Bernard Havens regarded his scheming si.» son with a gaze that made him wince... |’ “* Seelyice, you are as big a villain at hearts» lives, and I shall henceforth regard you as seri. T will not ask to see the forgery, a8 I have 1c doubt that you hold it. There are other rv that hold them. How you came into posse:.. 1 of it I do not know, but I have no doubt v «t you are in league with the ' gang of oes who are shoving out these forgeries upor: 1! « market,” ary “Many thanks, dear daddy, for reur Com ti: mentary opinion of me, but you see I ail allowances for the words uttered in a of anger. By the way, dropping the note inat ter, which can be han at another time, what do you propose soing. Fy ¢ other case” — ‘* Nothing, sir—nothing. If you dare to brea*):« a word of what you have heard I will kick » « from my house, and order my doors ci: against you. You have your choice, sir.” ‘*Oh!” Seelyice said, articulating the v* significantly. ‘Well, you and I can ba: y afford to be at sword’s points, so, probally. | shall maintain. a close-monthed silence, unica well, I'll sleep over it, and see what My Concur sion is to-morrow. Don’t worry, however, avout the note, as it will not come due in several | eure yet ene, if I should get Zoe, you see, it woul all in the family.” ) And with a cool laugh, the sallow fre, effeminate step-son took his hat and left the voc in, “Yes! yes! when you do get Zoe, it wili be all in the family,” Havens muttered, aflir In» had gone. ‘I have had my eyes opened to wor defects, my fine fellow, and I had as lief tyne you as the other rascals who are besiegin® ia» Ah! Heaven, how long will I be able to hoi vw against the overwhelming odds?” \ CHAPTER VI. ‘* FORGET ME, IN THE LOVE OF THE OTHE.” Zon HAVENS passed a most wretched]; « ‘s erable night. hen in her bed she lu: + { thought over the situation, and the resniv» + a copious outburst of tears—tears promy tel more by anxiety for her father, than feiirs \: + herself. 3 Never before, to her knowledge, had he wi |-- held from her any of his secrets, but had alw:.: « made her his confidante and counsel, seemin;; |» put much reliance in her woman’s judgment‘. But there had come a change, now. = It, nees)- ed no second suggestion to convince her of tha’. In addition to his other troubles, her father wi carrying a secret concerning the strange yoann; woman whom he had brought home wil}; ir. | A secret it was. and Zoe felt sure that‘: : ~ 3 a great one, or he would not keep it {io 4. + ;
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—_——— ee tm vain she tried to arrive at a correct conclu- ; sion of what hold this insolent stranger held wpon her father, though she puzzled her pretty head until it ached. The worry over the matter precluded all pos- ambility of sleep, until a late hour; consequently ie Zoe did not arise until time for breakfast. On descending to the parlor, she found the bogus Lady Mabel in the act of finishing read- ny a letter, and inclosing it in an envelope. ‘Txcuse me, my dear cousin,” the claimant maid, laying the missive down upon the marble table, ‘for, in assorting the mail, a moment to see if there was any mail for me, I open- one of your letters, by mistake. No offense, I hope, as [ did not read it.” Zoe seized the letter, with flashing eyes. “You have little to do, madam!” she said, oldly. ‘You will please be careful not to make such mistakes in the future!” “Of course not, dear cousin. It was a mere -gecident. You will excuse me, as I have some business to attend to, in town, to-day. és ‘Oh! certainly—with pleasure!” was Zoe’s stin reply. ‘After the Sioa Mabel had swept from the voom, Zoe examined her letter. It was the _ .wame that George Grafton had penned on the previous evening, and the banker’s daughter yead it with cheeks flushing with pleasure. ‘Poor George! whatmay not become of him, im that ruffianly district? I would that I were with him, to share his perils and his triumphs,” ‘she murmured, as she pressed the letter to her Vips. ‘George will help poor papa out of his ‘ambarrassment, I am almost sure. And then—” A soft blush came upon her face, as she turned and seated herself at the grand Chickering piano, and ran her fingers over the keys. *“* A wedding march would be in appropriate taste with your thoughts, fair sister,” a cynical voice sail, and Sydney Seelyice stepped froma eurtained alcove, with his usual cat-like tread, Zoe turned upon him with a start. *¢ You are ever lus king where you can overhear what concerns you not, sir!” she said, haughti- ‘Oh! you do me an injustice, now, by saying that, my dear. I happened to in there watching the people & by this most pleasant morning, being too deuced lazy to crawl out myself. But, Zoe, my girl, oe do not seem in the least disturbed by the—the—well—the situ- ation of affairs?” “T do not understand you, Sydney Seelyice; what do you mean?” “‘ Ah! then our model papa has not apprised of the existing state of affairs, eh?” “He has told me nothing, sir!” the banker’s saa ith replied, with quivering lip. es t is wrong. He should have told you, first. But I suppose he wanted to keep the trouble from you as long as possible.” “Tell me what you mean—what this trouble | 4@—what the secret is between my father and the stranger he brought here last night? Tell me, Sydney Seelyice, for the love of heaven!” On one condition, Miss Zoe. Soon you will be cast upon the world, penniless and friendless, and will need a strong arm to protect you. .I will not ask you to marry me yet—I simply ask your true friendship. Grant me that, and si will tell you what brings Mabel McDowel!” “Sydney Seelyice, when you prove beyond a doubt that you are an earnest and unselfish friend, you shall have my friendship, and not until then!” Zoe replied, haughtily. “Then I will already consider myself in your respect, for I shall prove to you that I am your friend, and the only one you have in San Frran- cisco. The information I am about to give oa will doubtless astonish you, but it is probably true, nevertheless. You are not Bernard Ha- vens’s daughter!” ** Not his daughter?” %oe had arisen, but she now reeled back aghast, and clutched a-chair for support, her face grown as white as alabaster. “Not his daughter, Sydney Seelyice? What lo you mean?” "Precisely what I said—that you are not rnard Havens’s daughter. This Mabel Mc- jowel has come here, claiming to have proofs to the effect that she, in of you, right- fully holds that position. Years ago, it seems, when your father reigned at Havens Heath, and when you were an infant, an English ras- eal, named McDowel, made a change of chil- dren, b 5 ag ge 2 ‘Havens’s own child, and placin his in its place, there being at the time 8 decided resemblance between the babes. “Years ago, this McDowel wrote and ex- plained the case to Bernard Havens, and threat- ened to put forward the rightful claimant for Toe i ene P % } , your future welfare, I believe. Tuat is the long and short of the matter, and my sympathy was ros: which have now expired, and Miss Mabel ou that I could not avoid telling you, althoug: Havens attempted to bribe me into silence!” Zoe stood like a rigid statue, with colorless face and wild eyes, and heard him through, word for word. Then, a low moan esca her—she sunk upon the chair, and pillowed her ese Sige her arm, as it rested on the chair ac For several minutes Seelyice saw her form tremble and quiver with emotion, but when she mang raised her head, her eyes were tear- $8. “Then, if what you say is true, I am occupy- ing a false position?’ she said, with a wonder- calmness, born of a courageous, proud 1a- ure. “*Tt would seem so,” Seelyice replied. ‘‘ But, there is one chance in a thousand for you yet, as Havens has a month in which he will at- tempt to prove that the McDowel claimant has no right to the position.” ‘You do not for a moment suppose that he will succeed, do you?” ‘* Candidly, I have no hopes in that direction. McDowel is ready to swear to the kidnapping and exchange, and a court would recognize you as not Havens’s child or heir, and Havens hav- ing no rebutting evidence to offer, Mabel Mc- Dowel wouid no doubt win the day.” ‘The case shall not be contested,” Zoe said, calmly. ‘‘I thank you, Mr. Seelyice, for what you have told me, until you are better paid.” Then turning, she swept from the room. feelyice gazed after her, with a gloating ex- pression in his eyes, ‘** By St. Christopher! I’d give my soul to pos- sess that grand girl! She is such a woman as would change a devil into asaint. Imust scheme to obtain her. I think I have taken an initial step in the right direction. She will not remain here—hber proud spirit will start her out upon the world. -My plan will then be to keep track of her until I find her in d rate need, and then urge my case until I win her. And as for the Havens inheritance—well, we shall | see. Perhaps I may have a finger in that pie, if things work right.” Seelyice had not guessed at fault, when he concluded that Zoe would leave the banker’s house, after what she had heard. She was a brave, courageous gir], but too inde- pendent to live upon the bounty of any one upon whom she had no natural claim. She knew how to work, and it was with the deliber- ately formed resolve to leave Bernard Havens’s house, and seek her own living upon the world, that she left Seelyice, and ascended to her own rooms. She was perfectly calm, despite her new de- termination. To be sure, she was not aware just how she was going to turn, but with a brave heart, she felt that she could get a living by work, and even a meager existence, now would be prefer- able to be a dependent upon the bounty of Ber- nard Havens. Centing herself at a small writing-desk, she took forth ink, pen and paper, and wrote in a pretty hand, the letter as follows: ‘‘Dear Papa: By the time you receive this, I shall be an absentee from your household. A rev- elation has come to me that I have been occupying a false position here, and asI do not wish to qin? | - others right, I make room, cheerfully, with a bless- ing upon your head for your kind care and protec- tion of mein the past. Do not worry about me—I am young and strong, and have abundant faith that I can care for myself, with God’s aid. You did wi ong to keep the real Zoe Havens thus long out of her rightful position, and I hope she anf be blessed with your fatherly interest, as I have always been. Forget me, in the love of the other. wget E. That was all, but it seemed to satisfy her, for she inclosed it in an envelcps, and took it to the banker’s office, where she left it. Then, don- ning her wraps, and taking her purse, she left the | Havens mansion for the pitiless streets of San Francisco! \ | ” \ steps. About the same hour that Zoe set out upon the streets, Bernard Havens left his banking es- tablishment, and hailing a cab, he entered, and was whirled rapidly away into one of the most aristocratic avenues of the city. After a short ride he was dropped in front of a handsome stone residence, and mounting the steps, he rung the bell. A servant soon appeared and showed him into an elegantly appointed reception room; then | taking his card, disappeared. He soon reappeared, however, and the banker was shown to a modest private parlor upon tho second floor, There were no occupants when the banker en- tered, but he had been seated but a few minutes, when a lady entered from an adjoining room— a woman of the most commanding beauty of face and form, attired in an elegant costume of gray silk, trimmed with the most costly of im- ported laces. A woman of not over two ana twenty years of age, stately of figure and fair of face, with marvelously pretty features, a leasant ee of brown eyes, and a great pro- usion of golden hair, stylishly arranged—a woman whose throat was encircled by a neck- luce of diamonds, and who also wore these a jewels upon her fingers, and in her: air. Bernard Havens arose from his chair, and greeted her warmly. ‘* Miss Sturdevant, you are looking your bes to-day,” he said, as he resumed his seat, ‘an your fascinating appearance bids me hope that the important answer I came for is to be favor- able. The beautiful woman smiled, winningly, at his speech. “T ata Mr. Havens,” she said. your eyes, you know. days we are baving now.” ‘Very true; the weather is most desirable. But laying aside the ordinary topics, permit me to exhibit a little loverly impatience, ny dear, and beg you to let me know my fate. Sus sees is what drives a man frantic!” 1en glad if my appearance pleases you, y ‘*T like to be fair, in What very pleasant ousbould never court that danger- ous condition,” Miss Sturdevant replied, with a musical laugh. “As to my answer, dear Mr. Havens, I must disappoint you, I fear, as I really cannot decide at present. When I bade you come to-day for a reply to pee highly flattering proposal, I supposed should be ready to make a decision in your favor, but L have been so busy since then that I could scarcely give a thought to your case.” * But—but this is twice you have fooled me in this way, Lucille. How am I to know that I will ever get an answer?” the banker protested, evidently anything but pleased with the disap- pointment, ‘*Oh! by faith, of course. Faith and perse- veranee you know, win the crown.” ‘*But, why can you not decide row as well as later? am very wealthy and can offer youa magnificent home, the company of my- self and a charming daughter, and better than all, even a better grade of society than you now enjoy. at else can you want, more than this, except the love of a warm-hea man, which I have already cast at your feet.” “‘T want time to reflect and consider, sir. A woman has much to take into consideration, be- fore ae a proposal of marriage, and, al- though I love you, Bernard, and shall probably eventually marry you, I could not think of pro- mising you, without mature deliberation. Your riches, I may add, are only a secondary consideration, as have considerable wealth of my own.” ‘Then you will give me no definite answer?” “Not, now, Mr. Havens. At another time I may, and when you get the answer it will pro- bably be an encouraging one. Until that time take hope from the knowledge that I love you.” “*T will endeavorto doso. But there is one question I would ask. What is my step-son to you? I saw you talking to him, a few days, ago, as I passed by. You were standing on the Oh! Sydney has been a devoted suitor for my hand, for a long time, but, poor fellow, I never can give him the least encouragement. }So you have no cause to be jealous, Mr. vens.” And so the banker took his departure, fully satisfied that she was an angel, although rather a provoking one. He had fallen in love with her at first sight, and for several months past had courted her, unknown to Zoe, with the view of taking her heme as his bride. And the woman? A silvery sarcastic laugh escaped her pretty, ‘
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tempting lips, after the banker was safely out of hearing. ‘“'The poor fool!” she said, rising and survey- ing her beautiful self in the great pier-glass that ornamented one end of the room; ‘‘asif I could love him, an old man, while I am so oung and beautiful! To be sure I might be torenret to marry him, but it would only be for the sake of fingering his money-bags, al- ready too full to hold all his weath, al hal perhaps I shall marry him, yet, and then de- sert him after awhile for my darling Sydney. Ah! he is the one 1 love—the only one who ever thrilled me by touch, word, or action. Rich, reckless, beautiful Ley Be Lam, with the power of bleeding the world, | would marry Sydney Beelyice, to-day, were he to make me an offer.” CHAPTER VII. BAROLAY’S “Frx.” Lert the reader not suppose that the notorious Chinese quarter of San Francisco is wholly made up of small and filthy habitations. Indeed there are some pretentious brick and stone struc- tures that rival those in the other parts of the city, and these are mainly occupied by a class of the Chinesa who have set themselves above their brethren on account of having gathered around them a greater amount of golden shekels. It was to one of these mansions that the humpback led the way and Bonanza Bill fol- lowed. Not a suspicion had entered his mind that all was not right, or that he was not follow- ing George Grafton, until he had followed the dwarf into the hall of the big mansion, and heard the door swing shut, with a click, Then he beheld the humpback confronting him with a leveled revolver. ‘* You are my prisoner, William Barclay,” a feminine voice announced. ‘‘ You refused to leave the town, as ordered by the Madam, and I was sent to ry you hither. Youstandnow in the retreat of the League of Twelve.” Bill gave a low whistle of surprise. ‘* And, you ain’t George Grafton at all?’ he interrogated, grimly. ** Of course not,” the decoy declared, with a musical laugh. *‘Iam one of the League of Twelve. I have brought you here in order that Madam Mystery can talk turkey to you.” “Blame it, then show me this wonderful madame,” Bill said, undauntedly. ‘‘ She’s the very old heifer I want to see, and all the other old maids, too.” ‘‘ Hal ha! out of the whole twelve, pardner. ou would only find three » sce women—that , Madam Mystery, Edna Earle, and myself.” oe you're pretty, then, with that disguise o' * Just a little, the ya a “ Where is this Edna Earle?’ “She has been absent several days.” ‘Well, then, take me to Madam Mystery, for I want to see her. When she gits thru with me, I want to see you ag’in, and have achat with ou. The decoy bowed, and led the way up the richly carpeted staircase into another grandly frescoed hall, ‘and along that until Mgt to a pair of folding doors, which she pushed open, and entered a magnificently furnished library, containing case after case of books, magazines and newspapers. Pushing Bonanza Bill into this apartment, the humpback quickly retired, closing the door be- hind her. Standing in the center of the room, with his hands thrust in his pockets, the miner-sharp from the Leopard Lode, proceeded to observe his surroundings with the coolest indifference. After taking in the general appointments of the room, he turned and nodded to a masked woman who had just entered—a handsomely- formed creature, attired in a stylish suit of corn-colored silk, trimmed with lace, and hav- ing a great trail; with diamonds upon her fin- gers, at her throat, and upon her hair, which was abundant, golden-hued, and pretitily ar- ran The mask she wore only covered her eyes, and Barclay could see that she was wondrously Pa, of face, as well as of form. “‘Good-mornin’, ma’am,” he said, doffing his hat, with a twitch. ‘‘I reckon mebbe you're the one they call Madam Mystery?” ‘Tam, indeed, Madam Mystery. And who are you!” the woman demanded, pausing a few feet from him, and surveying him critically. ‘* Well, I reckon I’m registered as Bonanza Bill Barclay, when I’m to home,” the miner an- swered. ‘“‘ They sed as how you wanted to tork turkey to me, an’ so I waltzed over ter see ye.” ‘Tf you are Bill Barclay, you are indeed the Bonanza Bill, Miner. man I wish to see,” Madam Mystery said, bow- ing. * Pray be seated.” 4 he wheeled forward two easy-chairs, and motioned Barclay to occupy the ono, while she took 2 rigane of the other. ‘* Will you have some wine with me, before we converse?” the Queen of the Twelve asked. ‘*No, ma’am; I rather reckon not,” Bill re- plied, firmly. ‘‘I don’t indulge, since a year ago, when one of your tools fleeced me out of some valuable possessions, while I was drunk.” The Madam laughed. ‘* Ha! ha! one little loss should not discourage ou. However, I will not ask you to drink. it is of that matter of one year ago that I would speak. It seems that ag have surmised that Hina Earle was a member of my band, and now you have joined hands with George Grafton, de- tective, in an effort to find and break up the League of Twelve. Tell me your object in this move.” ‘‘Humph! need you ask? My motive is that of an honest man, who would see crime and rascality eternally wiped out.” ‘* But you have never suffered at the hands of the league?” ‘You lie! The woman, Edna Earle, robbed me of gold, and of papers that were very valua- ble only to me!” ‘‘Ah! yes. I remember now that she handed me a bundle of papers, and I put them away in my safe, where they have remained since. As to the money I never saw any.” “Then, she kept it herself. But that is only asecondary consideration. The papers I want more than aught else.” “7 presume so, and undoubtedly we can make arrangements for their delivery. But, first, tellme, how you came to know aught of the League of Twelve?” Barclay reflected a moment. ‘*T don’t know as there will be any harm in tellin’ you,” he said, aftera moment. ‘ I found an old coffin in the cellar where the Diamond Queen left me, one year ago. On opening it, I discovered a sk porting to have been written by Jarecki Arm- 9 rich. How would you like to own me as @ wife lay gave vent to a second whistle of sur prise. is was rushing matters in ‘a way en- ely ee to him, ‘* Well, I don’t know about that,” he replied, “Tf you were not a notorious criminal, and I were in the matrimonial line, I opine i might like to hitch on. But, you see, I ain’t taking on any incumbrances, just at present,” “Pshaw! If I chose, I could soon twist you out of that notion. But to talk business, I will tell you what ido, Though young in years, I am a thoroughly schooled woman of the world, Thus far in life 1 have never permitted obstacles to stand in the way of my ambition, or my schemes. A week from hence the © of Twelve merges into a league of the United States. In every city of the said States will a member of the league be posted, and while all human crimes will be left out, the business of forgery will be adhered to, and perhaps coun- terfeiting. Both men and women will belong to the league, and I shall still continue its pres- ident. My reputation extends no further than this city—you and George Grafton hold the only knowledge against me and the league, My agents have been at work for a year in making preparations for the perfection of this great scheme. Every member has been sel ct- ed from rich and trusted circles, which doubly insures the safety and success of the great order. And now I intend to buy you and the detective, Grafton, body and soul, or else silence you so that you will never be able to betray us! The scheming Madam had delivered her speech with the utmost coolness, and now paused to replace her mask, and note the effect upon the miner, Barclay certainly was astonished. Such a scheme was too great for him to comprehend, especially when conceived by a woman. It was worthy of the inventive powers of the oldest and most experienced rascal in the world. “You area devil!” he declared. ‘ No ordi- eleton, and also a document, pur- | nary being could ever imagine such a thing, much less put it into execution, You pass my strong, an old outlaw, who had been engaged in | comprehension, entirely. As to the matter of every er of crime. The document also told of his last scheme, being the organization of the League of Twelve, with you the Queen.” ‘“‘T knew nothing of the existence of such a | than you suppose. document, or it should have been destroyed!” Madam Mystery said, earnestly. ‘Jarecki Armstrong was my husband. I married him upon his death-bed.” ‘* You must have thought a heap of his cada- ver!” Barclay d , ‘to have chucked it away in a cellar.” “That was his request. He had a mortal fear of becoming the prey of a college dissec- tion-room. Therefore he was laid away in the cellar until time should efface all memory of his past existence. These noted criminals have a great horror of being torn to pre by curious | » physicians. This document, must deliver into my custody. **Oh! I must, eh?’ the miner exclaimed. “Well, if you can find it about my person, you are welcome to it.” **What! did you not bring it with you?” “TI rather opine not, A treasure like that is worthy of preservation.” “4 % And you intend to use it against the League, 0 you? “That depends somewhat upon circumstan- ces. If Iam allowed m taster, I shall, un- doubtedly. If I am not allowed my freedom, the paper is in safe hands.” Paes exclamation of vexation escaped the uty. 4 See here, you must not be my enemy. You can ill-afford to be that. You are the same as a prisoner in this house. Try though you may, you can never escape, against Lp Bin If -you would go free, you will do well to make terms, with me. Do you want to look upon my face? ‘Well, I don’t kuow that I have a objec- tions to that,” the miner replied, coolly. ‘If you are handsome, I presume I shoul the view!” Madam M . Barclay, you enjoy ry showed her pearly teeth in a pretty smile, and removed her mask. Bill Barclay uttered an exclamation of admir- etion, and the Madam smiled again. ‘*Am I not pretty? How like you the pic- ture?” “You're the prettiest woman I ever gazed upon—and, yet, a very rascal!” he said, in his off-hand way. “IT thought my appearance would please ou,” she said, quietly. ‘‘ No man has ever ooked upon my face, of late, who has not ad- mired it. I am young, talented, handsome, ! | | your buying me, it would take more money than you can raise!” ‘**T doubt that, sir. I can raise more mone When Captain Jarecki died, he gave me the whole of his fortune amounting to many thousand dollars. Besides this I have made doubly as many more, by my pen, and to- day, if in need of five thousand dollars, all I have. dois to sit down, and write a note for the ai. unt and get it cashed. Now, Ill tell you whaiTll do. Tl give you ten thousand dollars out of my own pocket to become a mem- ber of the new league and work faithfully with me, in the interests of that order—five thousand dollars to marry me and be a faithful husband to me—ten thousand more and the papers that were stolen from you, to either induce Ge Grafton to join the league, or to put him out of the way—in all twen y-five thousand dollars, , which is a bigger fortune than youcan probably accumulate in a lifetime—or, I will give you twenty thousand dollars to leave this country forever, and never betray the secrets that have come into your possession. Which proposition will you accept?’ “Neither!” Bonanza Bill replied firmly. | ‘“‘ As I told you before, you cannot buy me; nor can you make terms with me, in any way or man- ner—not for a fortune. My nameis Bill lay, an’ when I make up my mind to a thing, you can’t move me, no more you can move arange of the Sierras.” “‘Then your doom is sealed. You shall never leave this place alive. proposition that was tempting and now if you refuse, you have brought a fate upon yourself.” I have offered youevery | And rising, the Female Forger touched a bell; _ the door opened, tting a half-dozen mask persons in men’s garb, but who were in reali women. They were armed with revolvers, an the moment they entered, they covered Bonanza Bill. “Take this man away, and incarcerate him in the dungeon!” Madam Mystery command: sternly, ‘‘Let him be chained to prevent bility of escape, and fed twice a day on read and water!” The band of masked tools advanced, and threw themselves upon the miner, and though he srugaled they were too much for him; he was finally overpowered and his hands secured be- hind him. “Then at a motion from the Female Forger, they led him from the room, and down the stairs. to the second floor; thence throu the lower hall and through a series of elegan furnished rooms, until they arrived in a call
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10 oe r Tet. ATS 6 AST + Sr _ room in the rear, barren of furnitiie ¢oran- 1 potas Here they ormed in a@cirele, wid ptished the miner into the ‘center ‘ of the eircle, ooh a ory of the masked ocak ed besidé him. ' “S8addenly a section’ of the floor began to sink, . _— the twain gradually disappeared below the “floor. - Down—down they went out of sight; down— down into the depths of the earth below that palace of crime, in the Chinese district. Barclay, with his arms pinioned, could in no way or manner resist. He was helpless in the power of the criminal league of the Pacific city ~ and all he could do was to remain inactive, and suffer himself to be borne down into the earth, he knew not how far. As they descended, they were in Stygian dark- ness, but he concluded ry the closeness of the air that they were descending into a pit, or sort of well. '. Down, down they went, slowly, but still down until at last the platform on which they stood .. grated upon a bottom. Then he heard his ~ masked companion fumbling about, and finally _ she struck a match, and lit a candle in a niche ‘intherocky wall that surrounded them. By the ‘ight diffused he’ was able to look around him. - The passageway through which they descended _ was an immense well, probably vege a deep, ' ‘and’ the ‘sides were ‘very’ steep. the bot- “'tom, where they had ‘halted, a “opened into the wall, and with a huge iron key Yhis companion unlocked’ and opened this and motioned him to enter, ' Knowing no better’ way than to obey, he en- _ tered, and she stepped after him to the threshold. “Pear not, Mr. Barclay,” she said, in a musi- , cal Heer ma ho thought 6 had heard orn ¢ ough your prospects may appear anythin ‘but charming, they are not to Le eit Xo bad as paey may seem, I will will see you again, when [am not watched.” ' “Who are you?” he demanded, in surprise “The same member who decoyed you. until you seé me again.” Then she closed the door, and locked ‘it’ from ‘the outside, and a moment later he heard the’ platform glide rapidly upward. “But for'that wonian I am liable to rot in - this damp d * particular + God ntifmay be so, form only hope ie rif : if now centered in her " GRAFTON IN ‘TIGHT QUARTERS. > Onw week: later. ) * AY short’ ibd of ‘time in’ a great bystling * ever-moving city liké Frisco; yet some Old phi)-” “osopher has 'characteristically remarked that a, typ he be built i a ‘week, with one day to' 80 Ny jhat-one need not remark at great in tert st ng this elapse, ng Grafton had thor- sla escene aca the more important dens in “the Chinese’ district, but without success in his . thission. be ay '©°"Nowhere ‘could he strike the trail of the mis- _'\ ging miner; nowhere could he-learn any tidings “of him. ° He‘had'conipletel ee out of the _world, as it were, and the detective finally gave ‘up all hope o finding him, ; > “Still eag catised him to haunt the Chi- ‘Hese district: He was watching for some clew that might lead to his gaining knowledge con- eerning the League of Twelve, in whose custody “he no doubt Bonanza Bill was held. __As skarp of eye as a} , and as patient as a eat onthe wa ‘+waited and watched, spending the larger share ‘of his time at the vile haunt known as the “Wolfs Ranch. . ; ' 4 i t ne st} : J » “pu ' | “A lever actor he was in addition tohis other: ae and he sustained ‘his character of Sandy “Morse so cleverly that his disguise was never so eA Lares +4 - Wolf’s Ranch was ‘situated upon a wretched street, in a wretched part of the Chinese section, and was a one-storiéd building of considerable --width and length, but dingy and smoky in ap- rance. Inside the condition was not much better. ted-iron door |: M t . name is Rose Lawton. Be of brave heart now, seemed to’! along. - ,” the miner muttered. ' Will '|’™ ‘she come again, and will her coming do me any | i te désirous of tackling him, and ‘| over io CHAPTER ‘VII. bab 6a himselt—a ini mustache adorned bis lip. °° His hands were glov: h for ‘its pyc ‘the detective, rm = ae Nw ; Ses. Bon: ine Ld ite = A Re | ; . bo P | acters in the ci:y vi Sin Francisco—men who , | hadaigured in every phase of terricle crime— men who rob for money—men who murdere for money; gamblers, bruisers, villains an ‘ruffians, at Jarge, whose vile natures were mir- ‘yored in their dark sinister faces. No saintly crowd for an honest man to go amongt, as well may be reg and yet, in his disguise of the bullwhac er, George rafton boldly entered into this den of danger, and mingled with its inmates. No man was he to hesitate because danger lay in his path. He pushed ahead first and considered the danger afterward. The evening one week from the night he had set out in search of Barclay, found him loung- ing in the gambling room of Wolf’s Ranch, pretending to watch the various games, but in reality using his eyes for a different purpose. The Ranch was well filled with its customary habitues, and a hubbub of noises prevailed that was at times nearly deafening. Some were drunk and noisy; others were quarreling over the games, anc knock-downs were of frequent occurrence. As he stood leaning against a cigar counter, viewing the disorderly scene, Grafton wondered how many of the respectable citizens of San Francisco knew of the existence of such a den, and if they did know, how many of them cared? ‘Probably not a great number. Very little. concerning this Chinese quarter did they know or'care to know, and the detec- tive vo it a discredit to’the authorities who held the managerial reins of the city, that they did not clean out the vile section, and rid it of its nest of criminals. Among the motley gang collected. to-night, noticeable for his boisterousness’ and quarrel- some disposition, was a strapping fellow from ‘the mines, dirty and slouchy of dress, and dark ahd evil of countenance—his face with its rough \’stubble of black beard and its’ gleaming’ blood- shot eyes, being very sinister and repulsive to gaze upon. He was armed with a beltful of wea , and the way in which lie: waltzed about saloon’ icite that he was ‘full of ‘“pizen,” and ripe for a’brawl with any one that came Several times he had attempted to pick a jarrel’ with Various ones, but they were evi- fe insults as'good-naturedly as ple. Upon the phosite side of the room from wLere ton wish g a new-comer had station- un-sized individual, arrayed in a full suit, of black broadcloth, and wearing & black ‘mask over the upper portion of his fea- ‘turés, where it was met by a stylish silk hat, ‘The lower portion of his face which was visible, was'0f ain olive hue, and a heavy, pointed black with kids ‘of a hue cor- responding with theremainder of his make-up, and he carried a stout rosewood cane, Between this dark stranger and the noisy rough, who frequently vouchsafed the information to the crowd that his cognomen was Black Jake, Grafton alternated his gaze. He could not have told just’ wiv, but these two persons, in particu- lar, impressed bim strangely. - The hiaek stranger was not the only masked person in the room, as many of those assembled wore full or half masks. ‘This, Grafton conclud- ed, was so that in case of a raid upon the den, they would not be recognized. Others were there, so reckless as to have no fear of the con- ws be what they might. lack Jake contii:ued to prance about in a promiscuous manner, pausing at the bar in the saloon, océasiona)lv, to further test his storage » eapacity for liquid lightning. uddenly, during one of his perambulations through the gaming-room, he seemed to have, for the first time, ¢pied Grafton. _A moment he paused and glared at him with his evil, swollen eyes; then Le upproached with broad strides. “See hyar! cuss my eyes ef I don’t b’lieve I know you, old bess!” he cried, thrusting out a horny hand. “You're ola Jim Lufkins, frum up in ther Yuba deestrict?” “T rather reckon not, stranger,” Grafton re- Till riddle at tee oe anger toward the miner, but because he had pore vfs committed himself. » Previously he had strictly adhered to the rudu language peculiar to the “citizens” of the mines, and he now saw that he had made a big mistake, noticeable even to the half-drunke:. ruffian. It was a 'thing he had never done before, in his experience as a detective. “T say yure a durned fraud!” McDowel agair cried, after waiting a-moment for Grafton tc reply, ‘‘an ef ye want ter take et up, jest tread on my toes, and I’ll pounce onter ye and yank ther starch outen you quicker’n a cat can chaw mice. That’s the style of a hairpin I am!” ‘* I'd advise you to go along erbout yer biz- ness, pard!” Grafton replied, coolly. ‘I ain’t owin’ nothin’, I allow, an’ ye’ll find et yer best plan ter git right up an’ git, afore ye sud- denly git hurt.” ‘Oh! ho! afore I git hurt, eh? Who in thun- der’s goin’ ter hurt me? Nary a man, ye red- haired galoot. Thar ain’t a person as kin tech one side o’ me, I ruther allow. McDowel is my name, an’ I’ve licked ther pick 0’ ev’ry town from Denver ter Frisco, I hev, an’ don’t ye fer- git it. Oh! I’m a hull circus an’ part o’ a cary- van, ye miserable rooster, an’ mebbe I don’t look like a full-blooded fightin’ cock, butJ dast declare an’ asseverate thet I can maul thunder out of ary man in Frisco!” And to add emphasis to his declaration, the tough brought his hand down. with no. slight force upon Grafton’s shoulder. uff The next instant the detective had hurled him back in no ‘gentle manner, and drawn and ‘cocked a revolver. ‘*Now you keep off!” he cried; sternly, “or ou. If you think to pick on me, you’ve struck the wrong: man, and it won't take onl me one ounce of lead, well sent, to lay you ou ‘McDowel growled savagely. ** Cuss vel » he -sppetts fiercely. réady wi’ yer tools, eh? -I'know’d yo was a cowardly shyster, fer no brave ‘pilgrim ever pulls a when be kinvuse his fists to settl» a funeral with: ‘Hello! wake up, boys, an’ lookee heer. I’ve cornered’ a ginnywine pesti- lence mente p’r’aps cotched a polecat! Who ows ‘ The gamblers be: by- one a crowd collected. { blo ‘What ye up to?” one of the ringleaders de- manded, ‘gruffly. “‘ Why don’t ye let ther feller alone, Jake?” ‘Cause I don’t want ter!”"McDowel declared. “So ye’ro n to grow curious, and one ) “I reckon, boys, thet we’se alla band 0’ breth- ern hyar, an’ it’s fer our interest to luk out thet we don’t git spott ther p’leece an’ detec- tives. Now, ’twixt you an’ me, feller-citizens, I allow I reckon this consarned galoot hain’t w’ot he seems, an’ I’m fer makin’ show his truo colors!” é A — of approval went the round.of the crowd. ‘On course,” the ringleader assented, ‘ Ef ther chap as calls hisself Sandy Morse ain’t ther pure quill, we don’t want him beer. Come! old hoss, show up, now, whether ye’re true ter na- tur’, or aire Coy ee 12 «lJ show nothing!” Georgereplied, seeing thai; he must face the music. ‘I:warn you to keep off from the start. My name is George Grafton, and I am‘a detective. I came here to mind my own business, and you will do well ito: mind yours. If you don’t, and attempt to’ disturb me, I'l] bet a gold eagle some of you will bite the dust before I give up!” The disappearance of Zoe Havens was not known outside of the family circle; although it had been nearly a week since she ‘had left. Bernard Havens had found her letter on his return from his visit to. Miss Sturdevant, and although he was deeply grieved, he made no attempt to find her, believing it not his best policy to discover and bring her back, until he ; should have proven her right in the family as I his daughter. ¢ In the interim, Mabel McDowel had presided ' in Zoe’s place. , But by no means had she aptly filled it. lor and read, or went _The building was partitioned ‘off into four She sat in the grand ‘rooms, the first, on entering, containing the bar, the second was devoted to gambling, and the third was a lunch room. The last, conse- quently, was a kitchen. -The walls of all these apartments were soiled | and smoked, and everywhere were the dents of | , bullet-holes and suspicious stains, which told of many a bloody brawl. | along wi’ thet rough make-up, nohow, an’ I’ll Here, at this den, nightly—and daily, for the’ | allow ye’re a cussed fraud!” matter—cewngrey.iod scures of the worst chex-! Grafton scowled—not so much because of his d y f ' plied, not offering to take the proffered hand. ‘You have made a mistake.” **Oh! I hev, hev I? Mebbe f lie, then!” the ! ruffian cried, insolently. ‘‘See heer, my man, | et strikes me ye ain’t ther cl’ar quill. I’m Black Jake McDowel, I am, an’ I’ve got ona big load 0’ benzeen, too, but I ain’t no fool, fer all thet. Thet eddicated langwage o’ yourn don’t hang shopping the whole of her time during each ‘day, where Zoe had busied herself in the super- vision of the household, and at night she was absent until twelve o’clock, and often later, but where at, the banker could not ascertain. She treated him often with sarcastic con- tempt, and even rudeness, but he bore this treat- ment without remark, resolved to put up with it until he should know for certain whether she was bic own child, or not. oe ee ‘ 4
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ee —————__—--—----~ “ And’when should he know, this? It was a conundrum he could not solve, nor sould he see any future hope of its solution. ” Séelyice, too, was overbearing and insulting, and although the banker accused him of in- forming Zoe, he bravely denied it. He did not seem to take much of a liking to the new claimant, and they scarcely ever spoke together. eelyice was not idle. He had himself lost track of Zoe’s where- abouts, and daily took a stroll about the city, and its shops and stores, in hope of stumbling across her, but his efforts were unsuccessful. On the evening of the sixth day after Zoe’s departure, which, by the way, was identical with the night chat George Grafton held the outlaws at bay, in the Wolf’s Ranch, Seelyice left the banker’s mansion, and set out on foot toward the Chinese quarter. __. , In a half hour he arrived at the mansion oc- cupied by the League of Twelve, and mounting the steps he rung the bell. A plain-looking girl of nineteen or twenty years of age, soon answered the summons, to whom Seglyice said something in French, at which she nodded, and he entered. Without waiting for instructions he ascended tie stairs, which evidenced the fact that he was no stranger there, Upon arriving at the first landing, he directed his footsteps to the door. of Madam Mystery’s pore parlor, upon which he gave a delicate istle rap, and coughed slightly, several times. The, door immediately opened, and Madam Mystery welcomed the banker’s st: p-son with a winning smilo, She was, attired in.a charm- ing costume, with low neck and short sleeves, and, with, the. mask absent from her face, was most royally beautiful. a Welcome, ‘Mr, Seelyice,” she said,.as. he en- tored.. “ You are quite a stranger.” “Well, yes, but none the dees ead to see you, dear Lucille—I mean, Madam Mystery,” and a peculiar smile flitted across his sallow face. ‘I trust you are glad to see me,” ; “Ever glad to see you, Sydney,” she said, inking her arm through, his, and leading the way to a luxurious sofa, ‘When you come, Matias YE, the Female Forger is hidden under the charming exterior of—-” . i ‘Lucille Sturdevant, lady,” he finished. > ear you’ should not utter the name aloud!” “sé said, quickly, ‘‘ Even ears are said to exist 4 in walls ad ’ ‘The, old gent called on you since our last meet- ing, did he not?” > tee anger as my boarding age a ell, I suppose you gave him an answer?” Or ebires not. I have toyed with him about long enough, and shall shake him, direct- Ji ; ; ry ree (Li, “Siti * Ag will the world. Matters threaten toreach * a crisis, with him. ere many ae go by.. The forge: per is pouring in npeR him, fast, and that ‘cursed honor of his, will not allow jit.to go to protest. It won’t. take long to drain his money pags ‘You are dealing him a hard blow, . Lucille—tell me why it is so? “To gain a fortune, is one reason—to cores vow made by a dying bedside, is another,” the beautiful woman replied, a strange moody ex- pression for a moment flitting across her coun- tenance, “Well, I need not complain, as Jongas it is _ hot me you are b'eeding. Can you not.do the handsome thing by me, to-night, Lucille?—that is, to write me out a twenty-five-thousand-dollar mortgage on his dwelling and other,city. rea) «state? It won't. cost you scarcely more than the stroke of your pen, and at the same time. will place him largely iu.my power.”, “No, Sydney—you can obtain no more obli- sitive papers, through me. As long as I was mufatuated with you, your wish was.my law, but now itis chan:.ei.’ “You do not mean to tell me that your love | for me has expired?” Seelyice demanded. “Yes, it has expired, in the dawning of a now love which is tenfold greater.” _ And, pray, who is this new favored one?” “You do not know him,” Madam Mystery said, cooliy—‘he is a stranger in Frisco and his name is Bonanza Bill Barclay.® CHAPTER IX, A RUFFIAN’S END—BARCLAY’S AID. Ir was a striking tableau—that which was Pepsenten in the gambling apartment of Wolf’s Ranch, and one that savored of imminent peril 50 those corcerned. Grafton, in his disguise of Sandy Morse, stood “Tia his back against a cigar counter, and a \ — Bhatobabnes aes wee AS od Nee | wey Black Jake McDowel, had come to a halt.a few yards away, and stood glaring at their game, savagely, with weapons drawn. They hesitated to advance further infront of the gaze of the detective’s leveled six-shots, for all over Frisco had George Grafton the repute of being a dead shot, and aman who was a wildcat to handle, when cornered. ‘Come! ye'd better surrender, cuss ye !” Black Jake cried, savagely. ‘‘We don’t allow no cussed spies in the Ranch, I reckon, an’ we’re goin’ to boost ye. Ye needn’t think we ken’t do it; fer we're fifty ter one, when we all club ter- gether, an’ we generally make things howl!” ‘*Come on, if you want to!” Gratton replied, menacingly. ‘The invitation is open to any of you that want to get salivated. I come here} with no intention of disturbing any of you, and if you let me alone, I will take my departure as quietly and inoffensively as I came. It, how- ever, you are thirsting for a row, and have se- lected me as the subject, just sail right in, and Vl guarantee you a red-hot reception.” ‘*Thet ain’t our leetle game, sir detective,” the ringleader replied, whose name was Dugan. Se to grow excited, where he had previous: y been ve, as etective will be killed!” he muttered, excitedly. ‘‘ Ze ruffians are too many for him, me zat must not be; I will put out ze ights And, drawing his revolver, he cocked it, and in rapid succession sent bullet after bullet through the chimneys of the lamps, the draught caused by the lightning flight of the leaden missile in each instance extinguishing the flame, He then pene into the struggling mass, knife in hand, and the blackness hid him from view, On—on waged the battle,amid a pandemonium of frightful yells, cursesand reports. It was one of the bloodiest affrays that had ever occurred in the notorious criminal den, Wolf’s Ranch, At last, nearly blood-blinded, and b.eedin from a dozen wounds, Grafton fought himsel away out of the mob, and ran for the door, de- termined, if possible; to eel with his life be- ree tye loss of blood ‘should render him too weak, McDowel, however, saw him, and with an | oath — in pursuit, and thus the two men | rushed from the Ranch into the narrow, dark, | deserted street, and behind them, in hot pursuit, “We fellers ar’a sort o’ Protective Brother- | came the black-masked stranger, who, with his hood, ye see, an’ death on all servants o’ the law, an’ when we ketch a customer like you, we gin- erally do fer him...So ye may as well throw down Es tools, an’ give up peaceably.” “When I do, just apprise me of the fact!” Grafton ‘replied, coolly. “If Iam to turn up my toes, I propose to do it in game style. So if you want me, come along, and you are wel- come to all you get.” The gang of ruflians exchanged’ glances, and hesitated. Evident it was that they feared the consequences of an open attack upon the bold detective, , As for Grafton, he wasoutwardly cool, and really but little excited. This was:no new posi- tion for him. to occupy; twice before in his de- tective experience had he been placed. in # simi- lar fix, and on each occasion bad fought his wa out without scarcely a scratch to tell of his struggle. ; In the present case he saw that a sixnesle rather | Was again before him, but.he would have, avoided it, as:there were fifty or more to one, against hima fearful odds that any man_ ‘must hesitate to tackle. they would do. And he was not mistaken. |. Bitter were these habitues of, Wolf’s: Ranch egninst the sons of the law and justice, and e could be prevented. ‘‘Come! boys, aire we ter beheld at bay by one consarne galoot” McDowelcried, fiercely.’ laid: him wpon a coue n ‘‘ Aire we goin’ ter let et_be sed thet Gratton ther detective, cum ter Wolf’s ther hull crowd o’ us? Not much» we ain’t ef we know ourselves, an’ we ruther reckon we do...;Git ready, now, an’. when ye hear me yell One, Two, Three, jest sail right inj an’ take the bet, i t the catamount caged we'll an’ w’en we git the catamount we make him eg Ready! now—one! two three!” Ready were they! The word had no more than been given when two-score or more of the devils rushed forward toward the cornered detective. Then ensued a scene of which little could be said, except that it was a mass of struggling hu- manity—a band of men fighting like wolves for the mastery. Not two-score against one’ man as had at first appeared, but men fighting men, the forces mixed, and nearly equally divided. What was the meaning? Were ruffians fight- ing their own mates in the defense of the bold detective? It, would have seemed so. On each instant was heard the sh report of revolvers, the clash of knives, with an ac- companiment of deep groans and fierce death- poe Men dropped, bruised and bleeding, only be trodden under foot. It was a fierce, ter- rible affray—a battle of desperate men. ‘On, boys, on!” a deep-toned voiee was heard to shout—the familiar and unmistakable voice of Frisco’s Chief of Police;—‘‘ on, I say! Let’s save Grafton, and clean out this den of cut- throats, or die in the attempt!” And there was a wild responding roar of. voices, and the battle waged hotter and with redoubled fury, between both anes In the meantiae, the biackelad, black- masked stranger, whom Grafton had noticed, | ¥et to tackle it was the detective’s resolve, if him up and hurried awa “Pooh! Tt don’t take stock in such nonsense, they advanced a step further, which he had no} street—dead, perhaps, as he gave no signs of “ . never. allowed one to escape them, if it’ We kin do et, my pilgrims, you’ revolver, had put out the lights in the saloon. ** Halt! cuss ye!” McDowel roared, hoarsely, as he leaped on after the detective. ‘Halt! or Tl plug ye!” ; ‘Plug away!” the gritty tracer shouted, ‘‘When you take me you'll get my dead body!” At this juncture there was a heavy fall upon the pavement, and a bellowing sort o n, Grafton looked around, and saw that McDowel had fallen prostrate. Ay The masked stranger was pe] up! He stood a moment undecided what course to rsue. “*Stop!” the masked man cried. “ You have nothing to fear from me, This race is run, and I want you to carry him to my shanty, on Ching Ling’s Alley.” ; Grafton was human. He saw that the bully- ing miner was ‘helpless~that the masked stranger was evidently not a foe, and therefore he resolved to respond to the appeal. “T haven’t got more than a cart-load of life left’ in “me,” the detective said; “ but I guess 1 can tote one end of the poor cuss,” Black Jake was inserisible’ when they picked through the dark | life Grafton was dizzy, weak, faint, but staggered on, carrying the heels of he ola, = Finally they left the narrow street for a still narrower ‘alley or court, upon which several “dingy brick a were situated. Into one of' these fter which the masked stranger locked the door, and closed the shut- Ranch an’ dared | ters. |. You must’remain here with mé until’ I see whether this ruffian recovers or not,” he said ‘aildressing Grafton. “Wait a moment, and it will get a light and attend to’your wounds,” ‘He soon succeeded in lighting a lamp, and placed it on a mantle, where it threw min- | ation into every part of the dingy, rudely-fur- | nished room, , “ Now, if you will tell me where you are hit, T will endeavor to dress your wounds,” he said, | turning to the detective, who had sunk into a | chair. ‘This has been a bloody night’s work, | but I trust the Chief of Police will clean out the | den. Did you suspect that be was in the room, previous to McDowel’s cresting a disturbance?’ “Yes. I suspected something of the kind, or I should hardly have ventured a row with the ruffians. I caught a glim of a brass star, and that gave me an idea that I was not alone. As to the wounds, I guess none are dangerous. There’s one on the side of my head, one through a fleshy part of my right side, one in my right arm, another in my left and one in the calf of my leg. I marvel I was not riddled, for the bullets pattered around me like hail. What is your name, may [ ask?” *“You may call me La Pierre. I know you, although you may never have heard of me,’ the man replied, as he removed his gloves, and prepared to dress the detective’s wounds, ith his soft white hands he went gent} and yet skillfully to work, and soon had Grat- ton feeling a great deal better, what with his face. | Attention was then turned to the insensibJ+. | ruffian, McDowel. He had received a wound from a bullet, in Ube hey carried McDowel and wounds dressed, and the blood washed from his.
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{ ; ‘ 12 Bonanza Bill. Miner. forehead, and also a knife-thrust in the side, tern shone within the dungeon, and with some | trap upon the floor, and paused, in order to de- which did not bleed externally. ‘‘He is not dead, yet,” Grafton said, after ws tong veming'é saw— ot the old humpvack, but a pretty young termine which way to go. There were several doors leading from the feeling around the region of his heart, ‘‘but he ; lady, whose face was fair, whose form was apartment, and he scarcely knew which to take. won’t hold forth much longer. stimulant?” “No! but I will soon io some,” and seizing his hat, La Pierre hurried from the house. He was gone only a few minutes, when he returned with a bottle of brandy. A few drops were poured down McDowel’s throat, and his head was liberally bathed with it. The effect was magical. With a long-drawn breath he gasped; a shud- der shook his frame, and he opened his eyes. Then he made an attempt to rise, but fell back, exhausted, his hand creeping toward his belt, as he saw Grafton. But La Pierre had thoughtfully removed his weapons. A faint curse escaped him, as he discovered that they were gone. “Oh! you’re safely on your back, old man,” La Pierre gunncnceds ‘“‘ and what’s more, I don’t believe you'll get off from it again, very soon. You’ve got an ugly jab in your side, that has touched mighty close to the vitals.” ar ae know,” the miner replied, hoarse- ly. ‘‘ Dugan struck me, thinkin’ et was the de- tective yonder. Et was dark, ye see.” ‘Yes, it was darker than Stygia, but not half so dark as it will be for you, old man, when you get out of this world,” Grafton sug- gested. . ‘If you’ve got any praying to do, or any confessions to make, you’d better get at ’em, for I opine your wind won’t hold out a great while longer.” “No, I guess not, nuther,” was the reply. “I'm goin’ ter pass in my chips, mighty quick, IT expect, an’ pie I might as well make a clean bre’st o’ it. Ef ye’ll leave me be a bit, I’ con- sider w’at I’ve got ter confess.” Accordingly La Pierre and Grafton withdrew to an inner room, Here the masked man lighted another lamp, and they seated themselves to wait. ‘““A great deal depends now, upon the con- fession of that man,” La Pierre resumed. ‘‘ He been a great criminal, and an arch schemer, and could reveal much of importance, did he choose.” The waiting was long and tedious, but finally there was a faint call, and, they re-entered the room where the outlaw lay. ‘Send the detective out, and I will say what T have to say to Pike 3 the miner growled, glar- ing fiercely at Grafton, who accordingly went back into the inner room, and closed the door. With paper and pencil, La Pierre seated him- self beside the sick man, and took down, word for word, the life confession of Jake McDowel. It was a startling revelation of a criminal life, and at times the masked man shuddered for the future of the wretch who narrated. At last the confession was ended, and with the last word, Jake McDowel expired. When La Pierre called Grafton in, he point- vers i the stiffening form upon the couch, and ‘“‘ He is dead. Peace to his ashes, You may ‘o now, as I shall not need your services fur- ther. I will seo that the poor misguided wretch has a decent burial at my own expense.” Have you any In the meantime, how fared Bonanza Bill? In his dungeon beneath the retreat of the e of Twelve, he had spent six weary days in total darkness, seeing 20 tight, except when a bru‘al-looking Irishman came, at morning and night, to bring him his rations of dry bread and water. . Every day, accompanying the frugal meal, came a delicately-perfumed note from am Mystery, asking him if he had concluded to ac- cept her terms yet. And the answer he invari- ably sent back by the waa was “No,” Of the No. 12 of the league, he had seen noth- ing since she had accompanied hitn to the dun- H geon. What had become of her, or why she had ' iled to pay him a visit, was more than he knew, but he concluded that she had been de- tained from coming by the female tigress and beauty, Madam Mystery. But upon the seventh day of his confinement, not long after he had been served with his morning meal, he heard the trap gliding down- ward; soon the door of his dungeon was un- locked; somebody opened it and stepped inside. In the Stygian darkness he could not see who. “Sh! don’t make a noise,” a low voice cau- tioned. ‘‘I am Rose Lawton, and I have finally got to see you.” The next instant the light of a bull’s-eye lan- > Ui SE Se ee ee ear ee eee 2 a ee ee eee ee eee See eS Se Se SO ee ee ee ee ee ee ee ee eee Se ee mare and whose eyes shone brilliantly. She was enveloped in a long water-proof Some might lead him to satety, while others were likely to lead him into the danger of an cloak, but wore no hat or head covering, her | encounter with some of the members of the hair falling in a wave over her shoulders. ‘*Don’t interrupt me!’’she said, as Bill was about to speak. ‘‘I have but two minutes to stay, and must speak quickly. Here are the | League. He finally decided upon the first left- hand entrance as the best to adopt, and after ulling off his boots, crept stealthily forward. nm opening the door, the first thing he dis- lantern, a bottle of chloroform, and directions | covered was a magnificent hall; and the second how to escape. came here Some time in the future I may see you, as I I’ve been ordered to leave, and ; was a woman’s hat hanging to a rack upon the rst, unknown to Madam Mystery. | wall. The words of Rose Lawton instantly flashed across his mind, and raising the hat, he have fallen in love with you at sight. I have | found a bunch of skeleton keys under it, no time to think of that, however, now. Here is a revolver, also, You may need to use it. | tered, with satisfaction. The Madam’s safe, where your pape the office, on the first floor, to the left of the hall. Duplicate keys to every door or lock in the house are hung under a hat, near the en- trance to the office. There! I must go now— good-by.” She sprung forward, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him; then turned abruptly, hurried from the cell, and a moment later Barclay heard the trap gliding rapidly upward. Behind her she had left the lantern, the chlo- roform, a piece of paper, and a loaded six- shooter—the requisites to get Bill Barclay out of the den of the League of Twelve. CHAPTER X. BONANZA BILL STEPS INTO NEW PERIL, “SHE is a strange piece,” Barclay exclaimed, after she had gone, “but most fortunately so for me. I am now prepared to fight this Madam Mystery, after my own fashion. he paper was the first thing he examined, for it was the key to his rvaing i By the light of the lantern he was able to de- cipher the chirography, and its import was as follows: ‘*Mr. Barcuay:—By prying up a e stone that lies in the bottom of vous der oon, sot will find the end of arope that runs underground. Pull this rope, and the door of your cell will fly open, and the trap will glide down to receive you. Step on, and the trap will bear you up into a room, above. From there you must manage your own es- cape. Be careful, however, not to leave your dun- eon, until you judge that it is at least midnight, or ater, for fear you may encounter some of the mem- bers of the League. Kemember me. Rosz Lawron.” It was with impatience that Barclay waited for the day to ay into another night, when he could work. y glancing at his watch which had not been taken from him, he learned that he had twelve hours or more to wait, so he turned down his lantern, and secreted it, along with the other things, under his cot. He then threw his jacket over them, to keep the light from being seen by the Irishman, wilka dh wnames Mavekity house, ab Re 4 e da rearily enough. six, in the pene the Irishman a with the ey repast of bread and water, but soon eft. When he had fone, Barclay munched a few mouthfuls of the stale bread, and drank a swal- low of the water. He then lay down to finish the waiting. When he thought it was in the neighborhood of midnight, he arose and made preparations for the work before him. A glance at his watch apprised him that it was -past eleven. Secreting the revolver and the chloroform upon his person he then took tho lantern in his ae is tees Taniaee the sa haa ia rying up the t stone ormed a part of the floor of his dungeon, he discovered the end of a two inch pipe protruding from the ground, and out of the pipe the knotted end of a — of cable, just as Lawton had fore- told. Setting his lantern upon the ground, he seized the cable, and gave it a vigorous p The next instant the door of the dungeon flew open, and he heard the trap gliding swiftly downward, from above. The moment it grated upon the bottom, he leaped through the door, upon it, and not a no- ment too soon, either, for it instantly to ascend. Up! up! he went rapidly, and when he stop: , the platform on which he stood formed a part of the floor of a large unfurnished room. He remembered it as the apartment from which he had been trapped into the pit and dungeon. Turning on the full light of his bull’s-eye, he flashed it around the room, only to perceive that it was deserted. He then stepped from the ’ ‘ aa) | | | the house, “Ha! I am now doubly armed,” he mut- “Tf I cannot turn a rs are, isin | trump, now, I don’t know the reason why. I anust chloroform ever person in myself excepted—then I can work unmolested.” This threatened to be no easy fob but he did not hesitate on that account. He was resolved to go through with the matter, if it cost him his liberty again. To be sure he was unac- uainted with the house, but he was confident that be could succeed. Up in the Yuba mines he had several times figured with success, as a detective, and he now was determined that he woulddothe stronghold of the League of Twelve, in good shape. Standing in the hall, he listened for some time to hear if any were astir, but all was silent. Evidently the house was wrapped in slumber. Creeping up the stairs hefinally reached the rocm where he had first seen Madam Mystery. Trying the door he found it unlocked, and stealthily opening it, he entered. All was darkness and silence, within, but this did not deter him from action. Turning on the light from his lantern, he gazed around bim to find exactly what he had expeoted—that the room was unoccupied, ‘‘ She is gone—the very one I most wanted to capture—unless she is in the next room,” he muttered. ‘It willdono harm to take a peep in here, anyhow.” A door opened from the parlor into the men- tioned apartment, and stealing softly forward, he opened it and peered into the room. It was empty! The lights were turned low, and the bed un- occupied. Madam Mystery was not at home. Bonanza Bill uttered an impatient exclama- tion as he noted the fact. ‘‘ It would seem that these female outlaws have deserted the ranch,” he muttered. ‘I hope I’ve not been the means of scaring them away.” Entering th » room he searched it thoroughly, but could tind nothing of importance, except a syringe which he pocketed, readily seeing use or it. ~ Leaving that apartment he passed through the little parlor, and once more emerged into the hall. Here he paused long enough to fill the syrin with chloroform from his bottle—then he approached a door, just opposite, and squirted a 8 of the drug into the room, through the keyhole. After several minutes had elapsed, he un- locked the door with one of his keys, and softly entered. This room too, was unoccupied. “Humph! At this rate, ’ve got things my own way,” the miner thought. ‘The s ei consumes my chloroform too fast, have to arm mayeet with a sponge. This article he found in a washstand drawer —then went on, on his tour of the other rooms. In the next five rooms visited he found a woman in each, and so stealthy was he in his movements, that they were not aroused from their slumbers until too serpy under the influ- ence of the chloroform to resist. From one room to another he went, swiftly. but softly, until nine females and one male had been overpowered on the second and third floors, the man being the Irish jailer. * That leaves Madam ystery and two mem- bers of the League missing,” Barclay mut- tered, as he stood in the lower hall, after hav- ing visited every room in the house but one, and that one the room that Rose Lawton had averred contained the safe and the spoils First of all, and of the League of Twelve. ‘I reckon I won’t be troubled now, if I attempt to dissect this nest. It must not take me long, however, for I have needs to get out of this cursed Chinese uarter, yet, to-night, in order to set George rafton and the police down upon the place.” Opening the door, he entered the office, to find it brilliantly lighted, by a pendent chande- 1 ‘ nee obs | + 7
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lier, but heidi ede It was a largo pe ae containing a great desl, reaching t to tho ceiling, a monster safo nearl y_as high, “and luxurious easy-chairs, while tho floor a richly carpeted, and the walls hung with raro pictur cs. Tho safo first demanded Barclay’s attention, and he knelt beside it, eagerly, for bo had little doubt that it contained tho papers, which were more valuablo to him than money. The safo was furnished with a combination lock, and he was well aware that ho could not open it unless ho should blunder upon tho right number. Still, ho was resolved to mako a try of it, and if he could not open it, ho could wait until he could obtain tho aid of the police, But a3 good fortune would havo it, he hit bia on tho combination and in five minutes tho derous door of tho great safe was open, an the view of tho interior was revealed. One great drawer was nearly filled with bank- bills ranging in value from ono to ono hundred dollars each. Then seer! wero numerous pi- geon-holes, containing papers, and these Bar- clay hauled out upon the fi oor, ’for examination. the first that came to hand, were his own stolen documents, all intact, and neatly tied in a little roll. With satisfaction he stored these away in his pocket, and then proceeded with his examination. Tho larger portion of the papers were of no particular importance, but thero was one docu- ment that attracted tho miner’s attention, the chirography being exactly like that upon the paper he had found in tho coffin of old Jarecki Armstrong. With no little curiosity seseley bore the paper to tho light and perused i eagerly. t was headed, *‘Last Words,” and van as follows: “A fow days ago, I penned a document reviewing », portion of my past life, and on further reflection iere are a few things I would add, before de npetecg iis life, In my previous paper, I neglected 0 state . iat Jarecki Armstrong is not my original name, »at one I assumed in conjunction with numerous » cher aliases, during my criminal career. 1 was orn of a proud and titled family, in England, and ‘an early age came into possession, by entailment, .fthe family wealth and the title of Lord Henry -‘avens, I married, soon after, and immediately : arted out upon my criminal career, I never saw wady Havens, after the first six months of my new “eparture, but learned ‘that she gave birth, | due ‘ime, to a male heir to the Havens inheritance. oon after, she died, and the boy was reared to ear- ly manhood by the rector who resided upon the es- tate. This boy was christened Bernard Havens, At an early age he married a London actress of consid- erable note, and two ps 9 Bb yig born. them, After several years had passed ary 9 resorted to the stage, ag ainst Lord Bernard's will. ‘he act pete in 13 ag @ barrier between them, d Bernard forbade her ever entering his wnd Lo ome, azain, Lady Isabel then stole her boy an cway, hid him until he was a lad of twelv \: ‘hen she furnished him with money, and sta to look out for himself. Soon him for rely after she sailed for Australia to play an engage- ynent, and the ie was captured by my sea- eae and she remaine my guest for a month, when ont her on to Melbourne, where I have since learned vhe died. Ofthe boy, I have never been able to find #, trace. My son, Jernard, lives here in Frisco, vow @ man of great wealth and pomwarty, Un: ‘mown to him, I have often looked upon face, | with pride, for bd is The woman, M in command of thet Esato of of my wives, rather, as I have hosts of them, in various portions of the globe. She is also a foster- sister to the notorious outlaw, Jesse James! My life | has not been ent rely barren. B miserly stingi- ness I have from time to tims gathered large for- tunes, and buried them where human hands cannot easily reach them, But, not in North America. Tha ‘otal value of the buried treasure would more than ood, and noble man. pay our tone debt. Who finds it, keeps it. One os Pape ed Zosor, holds the map, ignorant of its val ue, “Signed, Jareckr ArmsTrona.” x strange exclamation escaped the lips of Bill Barclay, as he finished reading, folded the document, and put it in his pocket. was all. But that had jooks, but went calmly on examinmg the ruainder of the papers. So $i They proved to be of no quence, and he turned from (en to the desk, in which he found only three things of any im” ny ip te — check-book, a book contain- 3 eS et ee 2 i =e ystery whom I have placed | 12, is my wife—or one | 5 | | If the story of the dead pirate’s buried wealth that amazed him, he did not betray it in his | | _ Bonanza Bill, SOE ee “Now for the police, to Fl tame the house while | the female devils. are drugged,” he muttered. ** This adventure is not fuente out so bad, atter all. I have not only regained my papers, but have captured the treasure, and can gain some repute by delivering the members of the League up to justice. This money I will also deal out to those who have been bled, in proportion to their losses. But, hold! I must not risk losing these papers that have come into my ssion again. I must secrete them, and there is but one place to do it.” He sat down and pulled off one of his boots, and then, with his pen-knife ripped the lining sufficiently to allow him toslip the thin docu- ments between. After placing them in this re- ceptacle, he pulled on the boot and was ready to leave. To make all doubly sure, however, he search- ed through the lower part of the house until he had found a sufficent quantity of rope for his Pp then he ascended the stairs, and pro- sodted ed to bind the hands and feet of those whom he had previously chloroformed. He found them all apparently in deep ape: faction, and the binding job was e he had completed it, he once more escended be: stairs, and unlocking the front door, left the ouse. He had scarcely stepped upon the street when he suddenly unt himself in the grasp of a half- dozen men, who had darted out of the shadows, and ina jilty he was handcuffed. “What in thunder do you mean, pilgrims?” he demanded, in su the wrong man this ime!” “Oh! no we haven’t!” one of the men replied, with a chuckle. ‘‘We detectives don’t gener- ally make mistakes. We've been shadowing this ranch for nigh a peels, oe as you're the first exit, you’re our man. Please accept an in- vitation to waltz down and see his Honor.” And at this juncture all hands, save Bill, laughed. © did not laugh, but whistled. “‘Oh! I see,” he said. ‘* You catch me in the act of leaving an outlaw retreat, and “en spot me for one of the gan Well, I don t know as you are to blame or th t. But you’ve tackled the wrong pig by the, ear, as I can soon prove, when you take me u “Oh! no doubt will ne Pil right,” the leader of the fre said, with a sarcastic laugh, in which thers joined, ‘Come! trot along with you.” “T reckon you’ve got CHAPTER XI. WHERE IS LA PIERRE? Or course Barclay could do no better than to obey. Handcuffed as he was, and surrounded by ull half a dozen armed men resistance or explanations were useless. Therefore he marched along, feeling confident that he would be ac- quitted when his testimony should be heard. It was a night of dense darkness, and he was glad of it, for few people were abroad to see him in custody, Upon reaching the city jail, he was locked up in a cell, and apprised that he could be grante | no hearing until morning. This was not contrary to his expectation, and | he accordingly threw himself upon the cot, and | ye.” | prepared to spend the night as pleasantly as | _ circumstances and his surroundings would per- mit. He had become inured to rough in his | life in the mines, and took whatever happered | him with the quiet confidence peculiar to him. Morning dawned at last, and he was led from the ojei to: to the police court, dashing appearance, and the fact that he wie a the charge of an officer, created curiosity, and quite a crowd followed him to the court- room, to learn the onl a of the offense for which he was to be heard All in due time he was ‘arraigned before the judge, who was a surly-looking, gray-eyed man, eg en would have pronounced unmerciful, to e least n answer to the formal inquiries, Detective Duncan, the chief of the party who had arrested articular conse- | Barclay, sa ‘The prisoner at the bar was arrested just after emerging from a ‘spotted’ house in the Chinese quarter. Do not know prisoner; do not think I ever saw him before. The house has been suspected as the abode of a band of coun- terfeiters and + ers. We were set to shadow it by Grafton, the detective. Prisoner is the first person to emerge from the place in three days thee is, by the front entrance.” t is your man, sir?” the judge asked, | edi to the nrison-~ 7 ‘ 18 yt allow,” the miner ncerted by the bit- ‘* Bonanza Bill Barclay replied, not in the least ing tones of his Honor. ‘Barclay, eh?” the judge said, perceivin once the kind of a customer he had to ba with. ‘‘ Where do you live?” ‘I opine Leopard Lode, Californy, holds the better share of my anatomy, when I’m to. home ” was Bill’s answer. hat is your occupation, sir?” “Well, I reckon ati resent, I’m ocew the prisoner’s box. en I'm ue in the deestrict, I generally | make myse ft purty livay at slingi in’ the pick an’ pan.” “Oh! you are a miner?” ** That’s about the fit fer it; yes.” “Well, sir, you are charged with having emerged’ from a house that is suspected to be a den of forgers and criminals. hat have you to say to that?” “T say that the hoss that told ye so, d brush a d amite concern wi’out techin’ it, he’s hit so straight.” “Then you acknowledge youeame from the place?” ** You bet!” “ And also opens, that it is such a den as it is ted of bein ‘Don’t ye ferg y ity” “ And you also will not deny but that you are a member of the gone that infests this place!” the judge demand “I opine I will!” Barclay assured grimly. Py ain’t in the least way connected wi’ the a ye’ve heerd o’ George Grafton, bu “ That gentleman is prominently known “Well, ef ye want any further li them t want ter give ye, jest tackle him. I’m ther Ey pp as found ther document w’at told about adam Mystery an’ ther League of Twelve, all about which you may hev heerd, Well, I an’ Grafton went in snucks in the matter, and I got nabbed an’ hey bin shet up fer a week. Iwas just escapin’, last night, when ther detectives abbed me. Ef ye don’t believe me. just go ck ter ther house, an’ ask ’em where Bul had clay is,” Your testimony is weak,” the jud dr sad atil ‘and I shall have to commit you ck to until Grafton can be found, and his testi- ee taken. If ke vouches for you, all right You shall be freed.” And according to his Honor’s decision, Bar- clay was taken back to the jug” and locked up. It was not quite to his satisfaction, for he had expected that Gratton would te’ resent to vouch for him, and thereby procure his release, He knew, however, that if Grafton was to be found, his speedy release was a certainty, Two days passed, Lut no Grafton was to be found. said the jailer. pts Ene, reported that he had last been seen in Zoe Havens, the banker’s daugh- ter pin Mp was missing. On the third day after his hearing, Barclay was surprised to receive from the jai era large frosted cake, upon a plate, “A vailed leddy fetched it, an’ wanted | should give it to you,” the man said, bandin it to Barclay. ‘1 reckon sum gal hain’t ferget Barclay wonderingly received the gift, and o‘ter the jailer had gone, he =. it upon one end ° bis cot, and surveyed it, grimly. ‘“Who can have sent t at?” he muttered, thoughtfully. ‘Was it sent with good or evil | intent? By Heaven! I believe there is death - in that very cake. What woman would send me such an offering with good intention? | know of none, unless it might be the girl, Rose Lawton, and I do not believe it came from ter. I should quicker think that it came from the female devil, Madam Mystery, and is poi- soned.” The more he thought about it, the nid ew his conclusion that he had not come rom the truth, in his decision. The Female Forger, he reasoned, was his enemy, and if such were the case, a ‘woman of her principles would not hesitate on trifles, such as getting rid of an enemy by poisoning. She was a bold, bad woman, who had turned her unusual smartness, inte lligence and her very soul into service of the devil, whom she served. Barclay had inventoried her, correct- ly, the first time he saw her, and he knew that her enmity was rancor—some hing to be fear “T will not touch the cake, <t any rate,” he decided. “It looks mighty tempting, tut life holds even more inducements to me than ceke,” “Which is quite correct,” a farailiar voice ex
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14 claimed, and George Grafton at this juncture entered the cell, accompanied by the jailer. “Thunder!” was the miner’s involuntary ex- clamation, '‘‘ Where did you spring from, pard?” ‘Oh! I’ve been on the trail, and to-day for the first, heard of your predicament, and at once hastened to your rescue.” **T felt sure you would,” "4 said, warm- ly, ‘‘and as soon as I can shed these. stiffly starched cuffs, T’ll grip your paw.” ‘* Well, you can shed ‘em, now, I reckon,” the er said, producing his keys and unlocking handcuffs, which he had no sooner done than the brother-detectives clasped hands in a cordial “shake.” ‘By order from his Honor, you're free.” “* And I owe this liberation to you,” Barclay eal, wringing Grafton’s hand warmly. “Don’t mention it,” the detective replied. ““You know we leagued ourselves together as brothers, and it was but natural I should come to your aid.” “Well, mebbe the tables may be turned some _— ‘ How about matters—has anything been one “* Yos, I think tie league is broken up for the present, or, at least, it has been scattered to other quarters. A raid was made, the chief tells me, upon the house in the Chinese eet but no captures made. The inmates had al scattered, and nothing o1 importance ‘could be discovered. Barclay shook his head pet ‘They were too fast,” he said, his brows knit- ting in a frown. ‘They shoula have waited until the matter had blown over a little, and the _ league would not have sloped, As it is, they can probably never be trapped I heard that in were searching for a missing pane Zoe v name. Did you find her?” ‘No. I can find no . race of her ” ‘*Was she the daughter of Bernurd Havens, the banker?” ‘She was. What do you know about Bernard Havens?” “Only a few pints, What are the facts of the case? Did she abscond, or was she ab- ducted?” ‘*Come along with me, and I will tel — as we go,” Grafton said, and they accordingly quitted the jail for the street. “It appears, according to Mr. Havens’s statement, that a scheming English villain, named McDowel, bas ; bg forward a young woman as heir-claimant the Havens inheritance, said McDowel claim- ing that Miss Zoe was not Havens’s own child, he ha changed the children in theirinfancy, substituting his own daughter, and taking pos- session of the then baronet’s child, for pare tive purposes, A few years ago he made known this secret to Havens, and threatened to produce the real heir. Havens was loth to believe it, and having become attached to Zoe, and be- lieving that she was his own child, and that McDowel’s game was base villainy, he gave him al sum of money to keep still for a stated number of years. e time expired a few days ago, and McDowel sent his claimant forward. \ some means, got wind o e matter, oe, b find of th tte girl, and has at go te Lord only knows where. I can not find the least trace of her.” Barclay whistled, meditatively. ‘‘And so this new claimant occupies her place?” he asked. “Yes. She has taken up her position at the banker’s house, and they say she is bossing things around pretty much to suit herself, But the banker does not believe her his child, and has a matter of a couple of weeks yet to work ou, be- fore eer ot acknowledging her as his daughter. And by the eternal, it must be proyed that Zoe is the rightful heir. She is my betrothed, you gee, and no adventuress shall usurp her place, if I can help it.” “What have you got to work on?” ‘*T am hopeful that I have a big ‘lead,’ but it require our united efforts to unearth it. — will This man, Jake McDowel, was killed in a brawl at Wolf’s Ranch, a few nights since. At the ‘time, I was there searching for you, and got into a row. I finally escaped, pursued by Mc- Dowel, but he fell, soon, and I assisted a fellow, named Pierre to carry him to a house in a neighboring alley. This La Pierre took the raffian's dying confession, but, being in an ad- ning room, I heard nothing of it. Indeed, at s time, I knew nothing relative to McDowel or the events Ihave been narrating. After Mc- Dowel’s death, La Pierre dismissed me, and I left the Chinese quarter. Now, I am in hopes, that, in the dying confession of McDowel, he threw some light upon this case.” ‘“‘It is barely possible that you may be right. La Pierre, then, is the man most desirable just now?’ Bonanza Bill, Miner. 4 He is.” “Then we will search forhim. Have you seen the new claimant?” ‘*No, but they say she is a beauty.” “ Doubtless!” the miner from Yuba said. “‘T have noticed that beauty and badness often go hand in hand, But, come—let’s go to your office and prepare for the new campaign!” Sydney Seelyice was closeted with Madam Mystery, in the parlor of a private boarding- house, about the same time that Bill Barclay was released from jail. The Female Forger was comfortably seated in a luxurious chair, engaged in puffing at a cigar- ette, as she watched lyice) who was pacing impatiently up and down the room, a frown up- on his usually placid face. “You might loan me the money at least, if you will not give it to me,” he said, half plead- ingly. ‘ You see I’ve got to have money, or go to jail. Money would soon jump me out of the city, but having none, I’m liable to arrest under the suspicion that I am a member of the discon- certed gue.” ‘‘ Why don’t you pass some of those notes you have, that I gave you?’ Madam Mystery asked. x Bah ! they are worthless now, ‘since the League business’ has received ventilation. Havens won’t honor them, nor will any one else. Havens has changed his style of signature, and is very ‘chary aboub letting any one see it. Yow’ve lost your hold on him.” =" “Perhaps not!” the beautiful woman said, re peculiar smile. ‘‘I think I shall marry im! ‘The devil, you say!” ‘‘Oh! you need not be astonished. You have no elaim upon my affections or admiration, since I saw Bill Barclay. lregard you-as a prin- cess may her pet poodle. Of course I won't whip you, if you persist in raving about me. Indeed, as Mrs. Havens, you will have a chance to regain caste in your step-father’s house, and so long as I remain there, you may.” Ay But I dare not longer remain in the city, you “As to that, Pil give you enough to get to Sacramento.” ‘Good! You are not stingy, Lucille. By the way, you have perhaps heard of the new claim: ant to the banker’s property?” “Yes, and have seen her, too, She was one of the members of the League.” ‘*Oh! by Jove! I thought her face was not unfamiliar, How will you agree? Perhaps two beauties in one harem won’t jibe?” “Oh! that can be settled. The new claimant is yet bound to me by oath, and I shall make Hedy a2 her wealth, of course. Don’t fear for at. ** All right. How long will you remain Mrs. Bernard Havens?” “Ah! that is a question, Perhaps only a year or so, until I can get his cash under my thumb. Then I'll slope. Here’s your money, now—fifty dollars. Don’t give me away.” ‘There’s no danger I'll give you away such a old mine as you are,” lyice said, with a augh, as he took the cash and also his depar- ture. CHAPTER XII. A STARTLING DENOUEMENT. Tw weeks more passed by. To Bernard Haveus, they were weeks of torture. Rapidly was the time approaching, when he must acknowledge to the world that Mabel Mc- Dowel i his Ces Sate aint ie maied prove 6 con ; thou e many & sleepless night in racking his brain in search of some favorable clew. ' George Grafton had also worked faithfully in his interest, but when the banker would ask the result, he simply received a discouraging shake of the head. Nothing could be found of Zoe, or of La Pierre—no clew could be got of them; nothing could be unearthed, that promised to refute the claim of the McDowell. She had evidently taken it for granted from the first, that her hold would remain firm, and she had established herself as comfortably as possible under the circumstances. She treate | the banker with impudent hauteur, and he treated her with cold respectfulness, There was no love between them. One evening on entering his library, Havens found her there, seated in his favorite easy- chair. He frowned, but did not i thoughts. He aiways refrained from doin; this, when moody, for fear his temper woul get the better of him. “Here isa letter for you, which I took the 2 ne a en mete eh NR ae oe cee DO ee ee 00 | Then, to the surprise of all, George liberty to open,” she suid, handing him a sheet: that she had been perusing. ‘I learn that you are about to assume the responsibility ‘of a third wife.” #, Havens seized the missive, angrily.’ “You are gr bold, girl,: in’ thus ppaning. my letters. How dare you?” he cried, i redo as I please,” Miss McDowel de- clared. ‘‘Am I nct ycur daughter, and have | not a right to share your secrets?” ‘*No! you are not my daughter!” the banker cried, with sudden fierceness. ‘‘You are an usurper—a base, scheming viper, and although I shall probably have to tolerate you, I shal} hate the sight of you.” “Oh! I don’t ‘care about that. To get into No. 1 society, and finger a fat purse is my inain desire, and I can easily dispense witu your affection. How soon is this interesting marriage going to come off, pray! I am anxious to witness it.” The banker did not reply, but glanced at the letter which he still held in his band. It was penned in a tasteful hand, anc ran as follows: “Dear Mr. Havens: “Upon more deliberate reflection I have decided favorably in your case, and will give you my handip m whenever you come to claim it. Ever your darling, Lucriug.’’* ‘* Sweet, isn’t it?” Miss McDowel snid, sarcas- tically, as he finished, and thrust it into bis ket. “T dare say you wiil name an early ay ? if I shall, most assuredly. 1 must have an angel inmy home tohelp me figh. a devil!” Thank you. Your good sense is abundant. I should certainly prefer a lively body like this Lucille to a sour old chip like you.” “The marriage will take place in the parlor, at noon, day after to-morrow. At the same time, I will declare you my heir and daughter. unless the rightful’one turns up. After our ma. e, we start immediately or Europe.” ‘* Very well, my dear papa!” Miss McDowe! said, mockingly *T will sbop this afternoon, pre tory to the great event.” She did shop, too, having first received an order from the banker. Si s, velvets, laces, and all the many costly adjuncts to a fashion- able woman’s toilet were purchased, and at last, having satisfied her extravagance for one after- noon, she started for home. Just as she was alighting from ‘he cab, in front of the Havens residence, a man sauntered along the walk, but stopped stock still as he caught a tee of her face. «Hello by thunder!” was his initial exclama- tion. ‘The Diamond Queen, as I live!” The man was Bill Barclay. ‘Sir?’ Miss MeDowelcried, haughtily. ‘‘ You are mistaken. I am Miss Havens. Move on!” ‘‘Mebbe I will, and mebbe I won’t, now,” the miner detective declared. ‘I’ve got an awful notion that you’re Edna Earle, who lifted some financial weight from mea year ago, and banded it over to Madam Mystery. An’ ef you’re the one that’s playin’ the game on Havens, I want My ce take a little sen re 8 sete that - up yer petticoats and skip—slope—puck- otiont”: f ye don’t you'll find yourself in a box before you know it.” And then, with a grim laugh, he passed on down the street. iss McDowel gazed after him with a white face, set teeth, and evilly gleaming eyes. “Tt is he—the same,” she muttere ,» Zasping- . ‘*He recognized me, and I fear him, te he ould interfere—” The parlors of the Havens mansion were thrown open, and a large assemblage of fastion- able Friscoans had gathered to witness the nup- tials of the banker and Miss Lucille Sturdévant. At one end of the grand partor the banker and his betrothed stood, in compary with nu- merous bridesmen and maids; the officiating clergyman stood before them, and iead the for- mal marriage service, until finally came his words: ‘“‘ Has any person ;eason to say why this man and woman shall not be joined together in the holy bonds of wedlock? If so, let him step for-' ward, or forever hold his peace!” After the utterance of the words, there was a breathless silence in the room, for a few seconds, i aerate Grafton ste forward, accompani y Barclay pa officers. “I forbid the marriage!” the detective said, “as this woman, Lucille Sturdevant, alias Madey Mystery, the female forger, is my pris- oner “Sir!” Bernard Havens roared, springing forward, ouly to be forced back by Barclay.
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15 ——— SS SS a a " 9 ' 1 BEADLE & ADAMS’ _Beadle’s Dime Library. | saynann DIME. PUBLICATIONS. lainous McDowel! The League of Twelve was effectually broken but that there is to-day a league of the United States, there can be no doubt, whose head- quarters are in our principal cities. But whe- ther Madam Mystery is the ruler, no one can tell, Soon after the reunion, the Havenses, father and daughter, returned permanently to Eng- land, accompanied by George Grafton as the husband of Zoe. Barclay, alias Ray Havens, could not be induced to go, saying that he pre- ferred the American adventure land for some years to come. ; te Seelyice is beating his way about the mining and is a model villain. Whether in the city, in the mines or the moun- tains, there occasionally rises before the mind’s eye of Bill Barclay the haunting, beautiful face of Madam oe iin Some day ina future he foresees a meet- with her. a. THE END. rire Eee Me. i 2 at 8 Ee 69 Tue Inisn Caprarn. By Capt. F. 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By Gustave Aimard.... 10c. | é Stun i oreee x c Cae ee '* Ladies and gen’ ; ag | 16 Ww . By Ned Buntline 10c, | 9. Juvenil ker. 19. Serio-Comic Speaker, disappointed you in one way, I will introduce 0 ie hil lhe mame Shy . | 10, Sarents Baris, Speaker | 20, Select Speaker, you to my daughter, Miss Zce Havens. With 17 NIGHTSHADE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson 10c, | 11, Dime Debater. 91. Funny Speaker. your permission, I will explain what may ap- | 18 THe Sea Banpit. By Ned Buntline 10e, 22, Jolly Speaker. pear strange to you,” | 19 Rep Cepar. By Gustave Aimard 10e, ace books are re ete ro choles ‘plenes. for — And then he narrated what is already known | 20 Tux Banprr at Bay, By Gustave Aimard. . 10c, | School-room, the Exh on, ~ Rein chines to Hehe emcee ae oe ekangs children, | 91 Tae Trarper’s Davonrer. Gustave Aimard: 10¢, | the choloest oratory of t te times, 75 to 100 Declama- wn ; ~ 22 WHITELAW; By Dr. J. H. Robinson Uc, | tions and Recitations in each book. V7 When he had finished there was of course an Tog , ovation of congratulations offered by the guests, | “8 THe Rep Warnior. By Ned es 1Ue, Dialogues. in the midst of which, to the amazement of all, Pi m HE ae mee 4 By pare e Aimard * Pi Pot Ba ous fore! gach volume 100 pages, em» the dusky personage in black, La Pier:e, step- ae COLE ake prone pte mp ys ' | Dialogues No. One. Dialogues No. Thirteen. ped forward. 26 Tuk Drata Track. By Francis Johnson 0¢. | Dialo No. Tw. Dial > ; . gues No. Two, ogues No, Fourteen, “Allow me,” he said, producing a sheet of | 97 THe Sporrer Derecrive. By Albert W.Aiken, 10c, | Dialogues No. Three. Dialogues No. Fifteen, paper, ‘‘ to assert that yonder woman is an im- | 9 qypen-Finarrep Jack, Jose ph E. Badger, Jr 10¢. | Dialogues No, Four. Dialogues No, Sixteen. } postor, and that the first Zoe Havens was the 29 Tram Dicx, Tax Faro Kpic. P.S. Warne . Wo | Dialogues No. Five, Dialogues No, Seventeen, real daughter of Bernard Havens. I have here , Fo * | Dialogues No. Six, Dialogues No. Kighteen _ 2 or 1, the | 30 Gosprt Groner, By Joseph E. Badger, Jr 10e, | Dialogues No, Seven. Dialogues No. Nineteen. the dying confession of Jacob McDowel, No. Eigt Dial No. Twent: 4* ; d will read you an | 31 Tue New York Swarp. By Albert W. Aiken, 10c, | Dialogues No, Kight. ogues No. Twenty. i father of yonder impostor, an xf ‘ Y By John D. V 10¢, | Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues No. Twenty-one pa To: Bernard Havens I have wronged him— | b ple miyee Kn. By ‘Albert Ww Aiken 100, | Dialocuce No. enex Didlesuee No. ‘teenaninte e . » ‘ 2% % iq yen, ¥ yet that I never changed be piecing —e 1 | 34 Rocky Mounrain Ros. By Albert W, Aiken, 10c, | Dialogues No, Twelve, Digjogues No. Twenty-foum layed the game for stakes. © new | oy ogues No. Twenty-five. ony ete my Ba daughter. I am dying— 35 Wentuck, THe meee . ik W. Aiken 10c, 15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book. ; may God have mercy upon my guilty soul!” 96 Insun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken .......... Wc. | ‘These volumes have been Prepared with especial ‘ vd lou cheer escaped from the lips of Grafton | 37 Hie, rae Huxcusack. By Ji. H. Robinson.. 10c, | reference to their availability all school-rooma | and Barelay, and was echood by many of those | 38 Veuve Hann. By Albert W. Aiken. 10, | They are a stage, and infroduce @ Tange of charae, present, 39 Tae Russian Spy. By Frederck Whittaker. 10. | targ suited to scholars of every rade, both male and | Overcome by the unexpected blow, Mabel 40 Tue Lone Harrep ‘Parps.’ J £. Badger, Jr. 10c. | female, It is fair to assume Fat no volumes yet }feDowel dropped to the floor and was carried | 4; gory paw. By Albert W. Aiken. _ .... 10¢, | Offered to schools, at any price, contain so many out ° available and useful dialogues and dramas, serious Bardlay next step forward, a smile upon 42 Tae Catirornia Detective, A, W. Aiken. . 10¢. | and comic. : y 803 slr r +o 4 ; 43 Dakota Dan. By Ol] Coomes ese, th 20s his handsome nae pets nis “ he yar dd Cabs Vid Ddstenatee | paceut todas a Dramas and Readings. of revelations. and perhaps it may no amiss ACK. By ates ., ; eae for me to add that Iam Bernard Havens’s only | 45 Orv Buit’s Eys. By Jos, KE. Badger, Jr., . 10e. KF 164 12mo Pages Cents, ; : or Schools, Parlors, Entertainments and the Am- son and heir, and right here in my hes | 46 Bow1r-Kwire Bey. By Oll Coomes - 10c. | ateur Stage, comprising Original Minor Dramaa, ; po Ive got a b tigen ge = 47 Paciric Pere. By Jos, E. Badger, Jr....... . 10c, | Comedy, Farce, Dress Pieces Humorous Dialogue ‘ owing. After many years, by the grace of | {8 PAHO Tox. By OM! Coomen, —° |. oe. | And luau ty noted, ners; apd, Recados barnes Pa ped: te Na 49 Tue Wour Demon. By Albert W. Aiken. .. 10c. | celebrity and interest. Edited by Prof, A, M, Russel Let us drop the curtain over the scene of | 50 Jack Rasnir. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr .. 10c. - gladness that ensued. 51 Rep Ros, tue Boy Roap-Acrnr. Oll Coomes. 10c. DIME HAND-B OOKS. The chain of intricate circumstances had been | 52 Dear Traruer. By Wm. F’, Cody..... 10¢, er broken the, sud Bad. Ae eed to admit of 4 | 53 srver Sam. By Col. Delle Sara............. 10¢, Young People’s Series. startling and joyful revelation. 54 Auways on Hanp. By Philip S. Warne..... 10c. | Brapix’s Diwe Hanp-Booxs ror Youxa Props Mabel McDowel was arrested by Grafton 6S Tux Scaup Huwrers. By Capt. Mayne Reid... 10c, edapted gg Met chines cee 4 ¢ . * 9 | r :) . C and committed to jail, charged with being a | 56 THe INDIAN Mazeppa. By Albert W. Aiken... 10, | cheapest and most useful works yet put into the j member of the League of Twelve. But one | 57 Tae Sitenr Hunrer. By Percy B.St. John., 10c, | market for popular circulation, y morning it was found that she and Madam Mys- | 68 Srver Kxurg; By Dr, J. H, Robinson....... 10¢, | Forge in ad Ro moos of Pee: tery both had most mysteriously muntber ce 69 Tue Man From Texas. By Albert W. Aiken 10, | BOOIS fraction. Lovers’ Casket, the jail—by whose aid or connivance it cou | 60 Wipe Awake. By Frank Dumont........... 10¢. k of Verses, Ball-room Co wide 9 eavaiing every effort to find them | 61 Caprain Seawar. By Ned Buntline,..,..... 10e, | Book of Dreams. Book of Beauty, ro Se ° . A few days later the real Zoe returned to the | ® Loyan Hxart. By Gustave wee Bs »+» 10¢, | Hand-Books of Games. banker’s mansion, and was warmly welcomed | 6 Tux Wixerp Wuate. By Albert W. Aiken... 10.) pesnrms Dine Hanp-Books or GAMES AND PoPursy by father, brother and lover. | 64 Douste Srent. By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. ..... 10c. | Hanp-Booxs cover a variety of subjects, and are ex With his two children gathered around him | 65 Tue Rep Rasan. By Capt. Fred Whittaker. 10c, | sally Rierted to their end, i aRow! Bernard Havens was happy, and soon forgot his | 66 THe Specter Bargus. By Capt. Mayne Reid.. 10c. ; heme Fasten, Riding and Det v4 ne —_ of * iarsgi hat Vidaniied La Pierre. | 67 Tux Boy Jocxry. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.. 10c, eucxet nt Football, Book Bait Plea: oe 1 ' uide to Swimming. Base- er for and received the dying confession of the vil- | 68 Tur Ficutina Traprrr, By J. F. C. Adams. 10¢ ung, y | i su a class of text-books and manuals fitted for oveeely er- son's use—the old and the young, the learn rt the unlearned, They are of conceded value, 1, Cook Book, 4. Family Physician, 2. Recipe Book. 5. Dressm and 8. Housekeeper’s Guide. linery. Lives of Great Americans. Are presented complete and authentic biographies of wats of the men who have added luster eens. egal c by their lives and deeds. The series em- races: I.—George Washington. | VII.—David Crockett. T1.—John Paul Jones. .—Israel Putnam. Til.—Mad AnthonyWayne| IXx.— . IV.—Ethan ‘Allen. # To Aecamaae V.—Marquis de Lafay-| XI.—Abraham Lincoln, XII.—Pontiac. ette. VI.—Daniel Boone, P% 2 arore peitications ap sale by 4 peweteolem I nt, - on receipt o ce ' BEADLE & ADAMS, OS Wrean ri weye® wr
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1 Deadwood Dick, Tre Prince or THE Roap. By Edward L. Wheeler. 4 Yellowstone Jack; or, Tar TRaprErR OF THE ENCHANTED Ground. J. E. Badger, Jr. King; or, Toe Rep Ricar Hanp. Ey Buffalo Bill (Hon. Win. F, Cody). 4. The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 5 Vagabond Joe; Tx Youne WanpER- ine Jaw. By Ol] Coomes, 6 Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Lirs m ward 8. Ellis, Frontmr. By Edward 8. Ellis. The Adventures of Baron Mun- chausen. Nat Todd; or, Tux Fatt or THE Sioux Captive. By Edward 8. Ellis. The Two Detectives; or, THe Forrunss or 4 Bowery Girt. A.W, Aiken. Gaiver's Travels. a Yoruae to t, and a Voyage to Brobdin a The Spy. By Oll Goosen, author of ** Vagabond Joe," etc. Aladdin ; or, THE WONDERFUL LAMP, The Sea-Cat; or, Toe WrircH or Darien. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 9 10 1 12 1 16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.) 17 Ralph y, The Boy Bucca- neer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- ages. From the Arabian Nights. 19 The Phantom Spy; or. Tux Prwor oF THE Pram. By Buffalo Bill. 20 The Double Daggers; or, Dmap- woop Drex's Dertance, By EF. L. Wheeler, 21 Frontier Angel. A Romance of Kentucky Rangers’ Life. By E.S. Ellis, 222 The Sea Serpent; or, Tur boy Rosprsow Crvsox. By Col. Juan Lewis. 23 Nick o’ the Night ; or, THE Boy Spy or 6. By T. C. Harbaugh. 24 Diamond Dirk; or, Tnx Mystrry or THe Yetitowstone. By Col. Ingraham, 2 5 The Boy Captain; or, THK Pinats’s Davonter. By Roger Starbuck. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. By Edward L. Wheeler. 2 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 28 By Of Coomesa, Buffalo Ben; or, Derapwoop Dick mm Diseviss. By Edward L. Wheeler. 29 The Dumb ©; oR, THE Docr’s Davoutrer. B 5 F. Whittaker, 30 Roaring Ralph ockwood, THE Recoeiess Rancer. By Harry St. George. 31 Keen-Enife, Prarrres. By Oll Coomes. 32 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian; or, Tax Grau Deap-Suor. E. L. Wheeler. 33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, Tum Rep Prrates or Tau Canispess, 8.W. Pierce. 3 4 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Watrrius’ Bor Sry. By Capt. J. F, C. Adams, 35 Wild Ivar, Tax Bor CLavpz Duvat; By Edward L, Wheeler, 38 The Boy Clown; or, THE QUEEN oF 37 THE ARENA, 5 A 8. Finn. The Hidden Lodge; or, Tiz Lirrie Harbaugh. 38 Ned Wylde, Tau Boy Scour. By THE PRINCE OF THE Honrer or THs ADIRONDACKS. Texas Jack. 39 Death-Face, the Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. Roving Ben. A story of a Young American. By John J. Marshall, Lasso Jack, Tus Youne Mustano- gk. By Oll Coomes. 42 The Phantom Miner; or, DEap- woop Dick’s Bonanza. By Ed. L. Wheeler. Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. By Capt. F. Whittaker. Rattling Rube; or, Tue Nicut- HAWKS OF cKY. B ear George. ASS Old Avalanche, the Great An- nihilator. By Edward L. Wheeler. 46 Glass Eye, the Great Shot ofthe West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 4147 Nightingale Nat; on, Tae Forgst Aprains. , By T. C. ge iy 48 Black John, the Road-Agent. 41 By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. Omaha Ol); or. Deapwoop Dick mx Danape. By Edward L, Wheeler. 198 5 Burt Bunker, THe Trapper. A | Tale of the Northwest. By C. E. Lasalle. 51 The Boy Rifles; or, THz Unpzr- crounp Camp. By Archie C. Iron. | 52 The White Buffalo. A Tale of | Strange Adventure. Charles E. Lasalle. 53 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., Tux Boy PHENIX; or. THRoveH To THE Deatu. E. L. Wheeler. 5 4. Ned Hazel, THe Boy TRAPPER; or, THE Paantom Pruxcess. By J. F.C. Adams. & 5 Deadly-Eye, Tus Unknown Scout; By Buffalo Bill. 56 Nick Whiffles’ Pet; or, IN THE VALLEY or Deats. Capt. J. P. C, Adams, 5 of Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, Tae Parps or FLoop Bar. E. L. Wheeler. 58 The Border King; or, Taz Szcret Fos. By Oll Coomes, 59 Old Hickory, or, Panny E.um’s Scatp. By Harry St. George. 60 The White Indian; or, Tax Scovx or tur YeLLowstone. By J. F.C. Adams, 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, Tuz Rep Team. By Edward L, Wheeler. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, Tax Rrvau Lygurenants, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 63 The Red Brotherhood; or, Tue TwrELvVE Avencers, By W. J. Hamilton. 6 4 Dandy Jack; or, THz OuTLaw or tHe Orscon Tram. By T. C. Harbaugh, 45 5 Hurricane Bill; or, Mustane Sam AND HIS ‘*Parp.”” By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 66 Single Hand; or, A Lirs For 4 Lirz. By W. J. Hamifon. 67 Patent-Leather Joe; or, OLD Rart- ing re] THE Cuarmen. By P.58.Warne, 6: The Border Robin Hood; or, THE Prarie Rover. By Buffalo Bill. 69 Gold Rifle; or, THz Boy Detective oF THE Buack Rancn. By E. L. Wheeler. 70 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, THk GREEN- HORN IX THE Woops. By J. F, C. Adams, V1 Delaware Dick; THz Younc Ran- corer Spy. By Oll Coomes. + Mad Tom Western, Taz TEXAN Rancer. By W. J. Hamilton. 73 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By woe L. Wheeler. 7 y whk-eye arry, THE OuUNG “4 TeLoete Tineax. By Oll Coomes, ee 5 The Boy Dueiist; or, THE CRUISE or THe Sea Wour. By Col. P. Ingraham, 76 Abe Colt, the Orow-Killer. By Albert W. Aiken, q | Corduroy Charlie; or, Taz Last Act or Dgapwoop Diox. By E. L. Wheeler. 7 fe Blue Dick; or, THs YELLOW Curzr’s Vunerancs. By Captain Mayne Reid, 79 Sol Ginger, Tur Giant TRraprer, By Albert W, Aiken. 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nuccet Nep, Tre Kwicut or Tax Guicn. By E. L. Wheeler. 1 Light Jo, THe TERROR OF THE Rani, By Captain J. F. C, Adams, 2 Kit Harefoot, Tux Wocp-Hawsx; or, Outp Powpzr-Face. By T. C. rapes, fs Rollo, the Boy R or, THE Herress or THe GOLDEN Horn. Oll Coomes, 4. Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosrnup 5B oN Hany, By Edward L. Wheeler. RS Buck Buckram; or, Brss, THK FE- mate TrarPeR. By Capt. J. F. C, Adams, 86 Dandy Rock, Tikc-MAN-FROM-TEX- 43s. By G. Waldo Browne. 87 The Land Pirates; ox, THR LEAGUE or Devin’s IsLanp. By Capt. Mayne Reid. && Photo ph Phil; on, Kosesup Rop’s REAPPEARANCE. By Ed. L. Wheeler, SD Island dim; or, I'ak PET OF THE Fayaiy. By author of “Jack Harkaway.” 90 The Dread Xider; on, THE Texan Dveuist. By George W. Browne. 91 The Captain of the Club. By Bracebridge Hemyng, (Jack Harkaway.) 92 Canada Chet; or, OLD AnaconDa rx Sitriva Buiu's Camp. By E. L. Wheeler. 93 The Boy Miners; or, Tut ENCHANTED Isuanp. By Edward §. Ellis. 8) 4 Midnight Jack, Tux Roap-Acrnt, By T. C. Harbaugh, P¢) 5 The Rival Rovers. By Licutenant Col. Hazeltine. 96 Watch - Eye, Tux Derrsctive. By Edward L. Wheeler. OT The Outlaw Brothers; or, Taz Captive or THE Harrrs. By J. J. Marshall. Robin Hood, Taz OvuTLaAwep Bar., By Pref. Stewart Gildersjuvve. BEADLE’S HALF-BIME LIBRARY. Every one of them ‘* Live” Stories by ‘** Live®? Authors, a Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME. | | ————_—_—_—_— —— Se a Each number OD Tea gee of Tees By ono 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville By Ed ward L. er, 10 Jack kiar> 2way in New York By Bracebridge Hemyng. 10 Dick Dead-Eye, TxuE Boy Suve 103 The Lion Of the Sea. By Cal Sara. OF Ceres este tm 105 one (By Capt Holmes. 106 TO. Harbaweh. 107 One-Eyed Sim; or, Toz Apa» pONED Forest Home. J. L. Bowen. 108 Daring Davy, THE Youna Berar Kur. St. George. 109 Pena Dick as Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 1 The Black Steed of the Pral- rae 5A James L, Bowen. 1 1 1 pa Bay ay tah iB chrono 1 12 The Mad Hunter; or, Taz Cavu or Dearu. By Burton Saxe. Jack Hoyle, THE Youne Srrcv- 1 13 Lator, By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 1 4 — Black Schooner. By Rogra TARBUCE. 11 iy Bind Mina? By Grorem ‘ALDO WNE. 1 16 oe Hussar Captain. By Con ENTISS RAHAM, 1 1 w | age aiok, Tet Srort-D» 11 & Will Somers, THz Boy Deruo Mast By Saget Mort mn 11D easter ge oe ce badger In 120 The Branded Hand; or, THE hs! or Mystery. By Frank Dumont, 1231 Cinnamon Chip, THE GiRL Sport By Edward L. eeler, 122 fees > he Boss Boy. aries MOrTis, harley, T 123 “ns Pe darters ated 1 2 4. mney Geo, lesson. i 125 premix Fousen. By 4, b. Wheeler. 126 Picsyees eh "Set ua 127 Road, by Frank Dumont. xu 1 4 The Young Privateer ; or, Tm Pratss’ SrroncHOLD. H. Cavendisu. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double. A Story of Wild-Cat City. E. L. Wheere . 1 30 Se dae tea ae 131 Te Golden Hand; or, Dan Rock To THE Rescur. G, W. Brow ve 132 The Hunted Hunter; or, is Srrance Horseman. By Fd. 8, Ehiis 133 Boss Bob, THE KING oF TH Boorsntacss. By Edward L. Wheelie. 1 34. Sure Shot Seth, Tuz Boy Purwe- MAN, By Oll Coomes. 136 re aa 1 36 Night-Hawk Kit; or, THe Dave . TER OF THE Rancne. J. E. er, «! 137 The Helpless Hand; or, Bacs woops RetrisvTion. Capt. Mayne Reid 1 38 Blonde Bill; or, DEapwoop D.cr” i Home Bass. By Edward, Whecler ; 139 Judge Lynch, dr.; on, Tau Bor Viermants. By T. C. Harbaug):. Ready Mar h 2».. 1 40 Blue Blazes; on, Tot Break * Day Boys. By Frank Dumont. ' Ready March 80: 141 Solid Sam; or, THE Boy OvurLav By Edward L. Wheeler. Ready April »:. 1 42 Handsome Harry, THE Bews- BLACK DETECTIVE. By Chas, Morr’: y April }8th A new issue every week, Whe Hlalf-Wime Library is for sale by 1’. Newsdealers, five cents per cop 7, OF sent by mai +n recejpt of six centa each. BEADLe & ADAMS Publishers, 98 William Street, New; Yerk.