Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 130) (1880 01 20)
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PEeereeeeye \\ lett ot it! a it nt ti! i! ot Daimyo yup 3 le Mat j 4 AN AS ‘ — Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., as Second Class Mafl Matter. Copyrighted in 1880 by BEADLE AND ADAMS, Single PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, Vol. V. Number. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. O. 1 30 Detective Dick: OR, THE HERO IN RAGS. BY CHARLES MORRIS, 4UTHOR OF “WILL SOMERS,” “PHIL, HARDY," ‘ PICA- YUNE PETE,” ETC. CHAPTER L A WARM INTERVIEW. “Tock? You kin bet your bottom dime on that: Yve had astreak jist as big as the side of a moun “Hold yer hosses a bit, Dick. Good luck can keep sweet till we’re ready to use it. It’s bad luck that goes sour. I never talk business On an empty pipe.” The speaker—a middle-aged man, with thick, led whiskers, and a face as rough as a chestnut- ; produced a handsome meerschaum from his y \\\ \\ wt pocket, and proceeded deliberately to charge it with obacco. Dick sat, with a m smile on his young face, curiously watching this process, The pipe lit, his companion took two or three long whiffs, sending the smoke curling through the air, his face full of deep satisfaction. “There. That’s what I call comfort,” he said, taking the pipe from his mouth to speak. ‘ Now, Dick, you can unload.” ‘** Ain’t in po hurry *bout that,” said Dick, grimly. ‘*Guess my luck ‘ll keep sweet a while longer.” “What do you mean, you blowed young rag doc- tor?’’ growled the man. ‘* Somehow I can’t never talk biz’ness till I’ve had a puff,” answered the boy rancor de pig 4 produesn from somewhere in his odd apparel a half-smokec cigar. ‘‘S’pose you favor your uncle with a light.”’ e man looked half an for a moment; then, with a short laugh, he handed Dick his pipe. Dick proceeded with great nonchalance, to light his stump of a cigar, and while doing so it will be a good time to introduce him to the reader, He was a short, well-set boy, of apparently some. ' as my name’s Ned Hogan,” wi — ‘i ~ I ~ uf int il al ' verereenenenenenenemnn ena it eet ant TTT TTI TTT TONOTUCUUUNQNU(I QUAN) A{UQUUI(U!\CQ0QANNN0440044 4 ALLL ANEEULLULULUEDOSNU EE ) Ni i \ . : sisi iN {Nl | ma: Hil wh f yy, ( alt Ly [jp a Up YO = A YY / oS wi DICK RENT AIS EYES MEDITATINGLY ON THE CEILING WHILE HE EJEOTED A RING OF SMOKE FROM HIS LIPS. H NNN tht NN sixteen years of age, tho there was the worl wisdom of a man in his no overly clean face. Di laid no claims to beauty of countenance, but he had all the keenness of the genuine street-boy. His dreas was a conglomerate, seemingly made up of stray bits of cast-off clothing and long since worn inte rags. A coat, which had been made for a taller per- son, came down nearly to his heels, while a limp, rough-and-ready hat was set as jauntily over one ear as if Dick was proud of its possession. ““There,”’ exclaimed Dick, handing back the pipe. “That's what J call comfort.” He pea his h om the table, tilted back his chair to a ng ae ang and poured out smoke from his lips till his h seemed enveloped in a cloud. ‘* Well, if you ain't a cool coon,” declared the with a look of some admiration. ‘‘If he ain't. got the imperdence of Old Nick himself, then I'll rens out my head for] neh **Dunno who you'd git to rent sich an empty. oid bere of a place as that,” was Dick’s provoking re- ort. “Tl seton you after oe Rape mash you, sure a touch of apleen. i ti IIS | ASS | \\ \ AMINA {VOL UNYEUUNVNVALAAAMAAA AIIM: AUWN ul
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“You'd best dry up while your skin's whole. There’s of this now; let’s hear what you Eiik bent his eyes meditatingly on the ceiling Wee one a of smoke from his lips. [ *s your favorite brand of cigars?” he asked, ymooently, as if he had not h Hogan's ques- “Do you want me to smother you?” cried the Intter, up his sleeves with grim meaning. “3 don’t smoke none but Concha de aros,” gomtimed Dick, with sublime disregard of Hogan’s threat. ‘This is a ginuine Concher, Jist smell that ‘@ewer if you want rose-water and cologne rolled into @amand ironed out flat. Why, it’s enough to make gy vg his grandmother.”’ tter do you pap aane for your Con- now?” asked Hogan, taking the pipe from his at’s an out-and-out Continentaler. Guy me ng buck for holding his horse, I allers take cigars and nickels. Couchers, you sg, is the of my biz’ness. But nickels is necessary.” sat watching the boy as if uncertan just o make of him, It was evident enough that were waste words with Dick. The latter gersoked on in silence for a few minutes, looking his wetiled comrade quietly in the face. Then, laying @hevscant remnant of his eg on the table, he slow- wet down his chair from its dangerous angle. ow, 8’ we come to biz,” said Dick, setting Mi hat over the other ear, and buttoning one but- me Up so short with your chocolate-colored ,”’ with a comical] grimace. you see Harris?” “ve got a ridick'lus whim that’s the job I took and Dick fastened another button with great . “When you find Dick Darling go back on ou kin git out your mud-scrapers and gett the river bottom for him. I’m one of the t kin bear death but not disgrace.” “Yor a blamed long-winded, short-haired, knock- tment, imperdent young son of a ship’s monkey,” growi Hooan. wrath y. “And if you don’t @ausp to the point soon there'll be a death in the Tawiiing fam’ , without the trouble of your drownd- rself, ME Howan raised his short, sturdy figure from his @uair, and laid down his pipe, as if this were his first t toward putting his threat into execution. ee ank ou. Don’t keer if I do, long as ny 08- @ee'n smoked out," said Dick, quiet iy pic ns up @spipe and inserting it between his lips. ‘‘ There — rah something 'bout a ginuine meerschaum % ” Be puffed away in seeming unconsciousness of Wee wrathful attitude of his ap Saat who stood geif overcome by this sublimity of impudence. Fin- , With a short, savage laugh, he sunk again into r, Seg yg : be shot if I don’t b’lieve that boy would stop te arcy the p’int if there was a pile-dviver comin’ @xamn On his head. Oome, Dick, now, what did Har- Y dae “2a he wasted a good many parts of speech » to argyfy into me that boy’s tongues were only for ornament; which, in course, didn’t stand reason. He guv me a letter, though, which I will come to the heel of it quicker nor I kin.” laid down the pipe which Hogan made haste riate. Then followed a general unbutton- and diving into multifarious pockets, with which "3 apparel seemed plentifully on ey A gene- wit assortment of boys ket merchandise adorned an me apn x = the table as Dick emptied pocket after 3 search, fell, if it don’t beat bugs and butterflies!’ he , indignantly. ‘I know L sunk it in one of ing on it,” muttered Dick as he continued his on, “Think I'll take out a policy on every- ‘oes inter my pockets arter this, Mought up the insurance companies, ore took off his hat to scratch bis h for an idea him out of the difficulty, when out dropped letter; paling 0 the floor at H "gs feet. looked down on it with an odd contortion of ce. See Oe at ae aiactally., "ft pee'd uu * he pro ru Mt Fy PEt acedes the gtrect Bat tev bad 2 d little attention to the boy's mutte ne 1) picked up the letter and tore it open, evidaulie learn its were mutterin, and mblings as of 508 nite read. Finally, table, a prodigious breaking. From his lips like that central peal nder W. dance. I be Ra erg —reee into = ~ of this don’t e the iggest rag oO e > that ever I run across!"’ he ejaculated 1 #f you ain't a genius for bizness,” shaking Detective fist at Dick. ‘‘Lucky for you that the table's be- tween us, if you think poe ys of your bones." “What's wrong?’ asked Dick, with childlike in- nocence of manner. Dick. ‘““What'’s wrong?’’ echoed Hogan, loudly. Then, cle lowering his voice, he asked: “Can you re ” “Kin I read?” repeated Dick, indignantly. ‘Kin aduck swim? Kina fox eat grapes? I’d bea purty uate of the No. 1 Keystone primary if I hadn't *isted in that much eddication. Wonder if he takes me for a fresh emigrant?” ‘Read that, then, and out loud. I want to see how it strikes you.” “All ©. K., uncle,” assented Dick, confidently buttoning up his coat till he looked like a truss turkey. ‘Don’t find me goin’ back on literatoor.” He cr hat down savagely on his head spread t of ope before him, shut his right eye and eoeerened his eft ear, as if these were ne- an, preliminaries of a dipping into literature. ‘«* Wilerdelfy, April one, eighteen hundred and—a ot,” he. gy Dick, with slow and emphatic manner. mee it ain’t an April fool sell. Kinder looks e : **Go on,”’ commanded ogee. energetically. 3 ae Hogan, Esq.’ hat’s Esq.?” ‘ on.”’ “It means ‘go on? doesit? All right,’ said Dick, going on, with sundry interpolations of his own. Dick was no great success as a reader of manu- script, and it was with many a trip and stumble over the big words, which stood like tall stones in his way, that he made his slow journey down the rugged pathway of the letter. “* Bus-i-ness is bus-i-ness’ (wonder if he thinks we want to be told eds ‘and what is worth doing at all is worth a man doing himself.’ (That ain’t good mar. Should have said hisself).”’ Hogan sat listening, with a smile of deep mean- ing. B. In what high-way or by-way of in-solence you icked up the boy you sent me I'd like to know, for don’t believe such crooked crab-apples grow in every orchard.’ ‘“‘Now who the dogs ever heered of a crooked Spab-erane® demanded Dick, looking up from the r. te Bogen made no answer but a grim smile. “*Ags for in-trust-ing any bus-i-ness of impor- tance (guess big words is sold cheap in his cons) to such a messenger, I would as soon put my han in a hornet's nest after honey.’ (That’sfun. ‘Tried = myself once. Kinder ‘preciate your feelings ere).” “Blow me if it ain’t like pouring water on a duck’s back,”’ growled Hogan. ‘I was fool enough to think there was some shame in the boy.” Dick seated himself before proceeding, leaning back, with his heels on the table, to the greater en- joyment of his literary task. “*T asked him to tell me where you were living, and he asked me if 1 wanted to buy him for a } areny (Bet he could been bought cheap jist then.) Then [ re-quest-ed to know his residence, and was informed that he lived at the corner of Goose and Spruce, next door to whale- bone alley.” ‘Don’t he write a slashin’ hand?’ queried Dick, admiringly. “ Jist look at that Goose! And he dashes oi! Whalebone as if it done him good.” ** What did you tell him such stuff for?” “TP weren't none of his bizness where I lived.” ““* He next took occasion to inform me that he was first cousin to General Grant, and nephew to the Emperor of China, and cared no more for my riches than a Newfoundland deg cared for a terrier pup.’ (That’s very well, Mr. Harris, but you ain’t put ina word of your own imperdence).”” **- You seem to enjoy that letter,’’ remarked Hogan, with a grimace. “*Tt’s kinder entertaining.” ***T was next informed,’ ”’ continued Dick, ‘ ‘that the city I lived in wasn’t fit for a respectable boot- black to emigrate to, and that it would do first rate to set up in a corner of a Philadelphia square as a specimen of a one-horse Myre ou that fetched little Harris,” Dick laugh- “T tell ed, as if the recollection was highly able. ‘*He talked so big of the City of Chester, that I couldn't help puttin’ in a back-handed slap. “You seem sn peace distinguished yourself pretty pose these are enough il-lus-tra-tions (don’t reckernise the word) of his mode of conversa- tion,’ '’ continued the er. “ ‘I was silly enough to let him goon for an hour. Baki *t know how you'd —— him). I certainly not trust im- portant business such a messenger. You know where I live, and have not informed me where you live. Come down and see me yourself. Yours truly, ** H. WiLson Harris.’ “ Short and sweet; with oceans of my imperdence, and not a word of. his own,” and Dick spoke in- dignantly. ‘‘ That’s just like men. They think boys ain't got no souls.” You’re a high old messenger, You ought to have a Ma + eng = Hogan, sourly. “Do you know an hing e Lal “ Only that the schooner Lucy flung the hawser on Chester pier last night.”’ “ The devil!’ cried Hogan, rising so suddenly as to overturn his chair, ‘* And he leaves the only bit of news worth a picayune to the last!” He rushed hastily from the room, followed by an irritating laugh from Dick. CHAPTER I. THE SINGING LESSON. Hogan's hasty journey was to the telegraph office, Arrived there, however, he was not so hasty in send_ with ing his message the aid of a pocket-dictio see if it’s writ out them words wrong.” 33 Cs Wilson Harris, Chester, Penna,” began the clerk. ‘Chocolate, cows, corpulent, cucumbers, crim nal, carter, cake, can, combine, calico, = ‘“‘ CHARTER.” “Ts that right? Your cipher seems to'run to C’s. Chocolate cows, and corpulent cucumbers are queer specimens.” “All correct. Hope it won’t run to seed. Push her through, my friend. I expect an answer.” It was half an hour before the answer came. It was couched in the same cipher, which seemed to give Hogan more trouble to read than it had to write. ** Let me see," he muttered, “I told him to keep a spare eye for the Lucy, and especially for the red- haired mate. I judge this to be: ‘I have been watch- ing, but have seen nothing’—‘ cranberry,’ what’s that? Oh! ‘suspicious.’ ‘Seen nothing suspicious. hye 1 my—’ ‘curtain concert.’ What the blazes a ” Hogan thumbed his book for several minutes, then ejaculated: Hope rh ust thrown in them, Wish I was down there myself, but I've got to pay my compliments to our mutual friend, was making his way as Hf aoe as a street-car could carry him to an up-town local mh Arrived in front of a stylish row of houses on chance, by a plainly-dressed man, who had been lounging carelessly on the nearest corner. ‘““What news?” was Hogan’s first remark to this The bird is caged yet. individual. “All serene. Wish to Heaven he’d show a wing.” “You are too uneasy, Tom. I hope you haven't sold your business?”’ “Do you take me for a fool, Ned, Hogan?” ans- wered Tom, angrily. ‘I haven’t been shadowin rascals for ten years not to know the first ropes ye *Tain’t for any young fox like this to run to earth under an old hound’s nose.”’ “Been any signs?”’ “A rusty-looking lad, that might have been a tele- graph boy, went in half an hour ago, He ain’t come out since. There was a very bright-faced young lady, too, went in an hour ago. She left just before you came.” “Bet on your having an eye for the ladies, Tom,”* laughed Hogan. ‘‘ You can slide now. I'll take up the next watch.” They walked carelessly on together, Hogan fillin his favorite meerschaum. He took a long, delight puff at it, and then said: ‘*Be on hand at six, if nothing turns up before. Tl smoke him if he shows his nose.” Tom walked on,and Hogan turned on his heel, stationing himself in an indolent attitude against an awning-post, and smoking diligently as his eyes rested on the houses before him. We will take the privilege of entering the particu- lar house to which his attention was directed. From the parlor of this rather plainly-furnished residence, a half-hour or so before Hogan took up his watch, there came the tones of a remarkably sweet lady’s voice, yeni smarter 4 the piano, im what seemed more of an exercise than a song. Thetones of the voice vibrated musically through- out the house, and might have stirred the dull ear of the watcher in the street had his soul been sensitive to the influence of music. There mingled with it now the manly tones of a fine tenor voice, while more vigorous sounds came from the piano. But we will intrude on this music-lesson, as it seems to be. The jyoung me) whose voice is so full of bird-like sweetness is a tall, beautiful girl, very stylishly dressed, a light-haired, blue-eyed witch, on whom gentleman are fixed in deep admira- te eyes of t ion. He is a very handsome fellow, and has about him. that ease and dignity of manner which seem to be the tprerogative of culture. He is dressed rather pany but wears his clothes with au air that gives hem ail the effect of stylishness. “That is well done, very well done,” he says, ap- provingly. ‘The range of your voice has in within the last few weeks.” by 0? fos really think so?” she asked, pleased with. his Ce 1 Ves: ou struck that upper note clearly to-day. Last week you could not sound it.” + a eenned to me i I oe have reached on roof of the house,” she returned, laughingly. “A ba Say I son m4 h : 6 , no! not yet,” and he spoke appeali A wish 700 to try this new song with me It iy, beau- titul hing, and will just suit your voice.” * Love Waits,’ reading in its title, with a sh of her shoulders. ‘‘ Something sweetly sentimen su What is love waiting for?’ ‘Heaven knows. If I werea lover, now,I eould tell you what I would be waiting for.” ***For a smile from the sweetest eyes under the sun,’”’ she read, looking intently at the music. “Let me see them,” and laying his hand lightly om ' her arm, he peered earnestly into her face, a LT _ ——_
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: ; - ; a a le a te _“ Olf! no nonsense,” she exclaimed, turning quick- Wy away. ‘ You are a mere tease.” Yat the flush on her face showed that she was not mite displeased. thout a word he laid the music on the piano, amd ran his hand softly over the air. “Do you think you can catch it? It is easy.” “Sing it yourself first. I want to hear the move- ment,’ “He sung witha great dealof feeling and power, she listening with a charmed expression as the rich tones of his voice filled the room with music. The gong was deeply sentimental, and its fervent mean- fag thrilled in his voice. “he is as winsome as the summer rose, Ah! false was he that painted lovo’s eyes blind; Whe —— are paled when those bright orbs un- close; Bove waits no more when love's soft heart grows cin ? His voice lowered and vibrated stran @ to these last lines. as he He seemed to feel deeply sentiment of the song, and held on to the ‘ Love waits no moro’’ with a fervencinsistence that thrill- ed the heart of his hearer with deep emotion. Iie was silent for a moment, the echoes of his vaice seeming still to fill the room with music. “Do you like the song?” he asked, quietly. “Oh! indifferently,” she answered. “ Will you try it now?” “Not now. I thank you,” coolly. “The lesson is ended, then,” shutting down the with almost a bang, ““ Which lesson?’ was her innocently-expressed inquiry, as her bright eyes rested a moment on his “The music-lesson,” he replied, rathercurtly. ‘TI was not aware that I was teaching any other lesson.” “ Ah! true was he that painted love's eyes blind,” éhe sung, with a laughing intonation. She seized her music and turned toward the door, He stood irresolutely, his face flushed, his foot nervously tapping the floor. “Yous not go till you have told me what you ” he declared, suddenly taking her hand. “Why, you wished mo to 8 it a minute ago,” with a quick glance. ‘I hope I caught the senti- ment properly.” “But your paraphrase? words?’’ ‘*Excuse me, That is oneof the things no woman explains,’ withdrawing her hand resolutely from his sp. . “One moment, Helen; I have dared to think—I have dared to hope—” She stood listening with downcast eyes, and with an undefined expression on her face. She was cer- tainly not deeply displeased. Your change of my sentence. The door near which they stood suddenly opened, and a boy, of the most unmitigated boyishness, stepped saucily into the room. It was no other than ed, independent Dick Darling. me,” he said, with a meaning glance from one to the other of the pair upon whom he had in- truded, ‘“S’poso maybe if I was to call ag’in, it mought be more agreoble, Tl retire to a sofy in the parlor till you git through.” “Stay where you are, you wicked young rascal,”’ cried Mr. Spencer, lansing in spite of his chagrin, “Shall I see you to the door, Miss Andrews?” “Don’t you mind me,” sutgested Dick, reassur- ingly. “T never peach, no matter what signs I see,” e seated himself on the piano-stool as they left the room, “Tll be shot if they wasn’t oregen: | love! Iswow, if I ever see’d sich fun!” a broad smile breaking over his face, as he brought his hand down for an em- phatic slap upon his knee. ; It fell, however, on the bank of keys of the piano, qieking such a clash of sound that the boy made a movement backward. The result was an everturning of the piano-stool, ard a helpless rolling ef Dick over and over upon the carpet. — “I wonder what blamed kind of a nitro-glycerine he in that mahogany box!” he muttered, as he ously picked himself up. “If it often goes off that way it’s what I should call a concealed dead- ly weapon. An’ that’s ag’in’ the law.” Dick eyed it askance, as if not quite satisfied with its mity. ” re he In mischief before he is in the _ house five minutes,” declared Mr. Spencer, as, he = ee the front doorat the sudden uproar in r. ¥ Who is he?” asked Miss Andrews. “Oh! a young gentleman who has deigned to take me under his care, and who calls on me at the most inconvenient moments—rags an 1 all." * He is ragged enough,” se admitted, with a shrug. “But I am intruding on P bcs time.” Her voice was lowered in tone, as she stood a mo- ment, her hand on the door knob, as if hesitating to open, ““When shall I sec you again?” he asked, “Oh! this day weék, I presume; if nothing hap- Ss ” “Then, may nothing happen,” he retorted, with a deep meaning in his tone. “‘* Love Waits,’ shall be our next lesson.” “Love waits no more,” she sung, with a ip? as- pect, as she quickly opened the door. ‘“* Good-day,” and she tripped hastily into the street. His face had a very happy look, as he turned back from the door. “*T would have liked to annihilate the boy, though,” he muttered. | ily, Yet he was not destined to finish his hesitating | gold to Chester to-day?” | le | | sell “ a Ma See Ne eer Detective Dick. When he entered the room Dick was standing in the middle of the floor looking defiantly at the offend- oO. t do you call that critter?” he asked, point- ing to the instrument, That’s a piano.” “Oh! that’s a pianer, is it? Does it often go off?” “Tt is a little dangerous to boys, sometimes,” ad- a Mr, Spencer, running his fingers lightly over the keys. Dick listened, with a pleased ear, to the rich tones of the instrument. “Swow I didn’t know it was bottied-up music, Got many tunes init? Let’s hear ** Hail Columby.” Mr. Spencer ran over the air requested, to the in- finite delight of the hearer. vy aly that beats a hand-organ holler—monkey an % “And now I want to know what made you bolt into the room without an invitation?’ demanded Mr, Spencer. ‘You ought to post yourkitchen gal better. She told me you was here. I took that for invertation enough.” “In future you would do best to knoek before en- tering my private room. What brings you here to- e day? spoke a little impatiently. “ S'pose I knowed you was in here sparking that prett, gal?’ and Dick buttoned his coat d atly. Couldn’t have dragged me in with a yoke of oxen if I’d a-knowed it.” “She’s a pupil of mine, Dick. I was giving her a singing-lesson.” ‘ ‘*Oh! asingin’-lesson!” said Dick, with an incre- dulous wink. ‘* Hope she likes singin’-lessons.”” ** What do you want, boy? I have no time.to spare.” * Come here to-day to tell you your fortune.” “T guess I will excuse you that duty, then,” with asmile. ‘I have no fortune to tell.” ‘More than you think,maybe. Give me your hand.” Mr. Spencer extended his hand to the boy, who took it in his own soiled palm, “The lines don’t come out clear,’’ he muttered, after poring over it. ‘*Maybe you'd best cross it with silver. Mr. Spencer laid a piece of silver in bis se palm. “That helps it amazingly,” said Dick, as he quietly pocketed the coin. ‘ Tell you what, there’s fun here; and there’s danger. Here’s a light-haired lady get- tin’ into the house of life—and here comes & mar riage with three bridesmaids.” ‘Drop that, Dick,” and Mr. Spencer attempted to withdraw his hand. ““There’s danger,” continued Dick. “This line leads to trouble. There’s a red-headed man in it. Best keep clear of red-headed men for the next month.” ta Quick, boy; get done with this nonsense!” “There’s no nonsense in it,’’ protested Dick, sturd- poring more closely over the hand. “ You were “ How under the sun did you guess that?” asked Mr, Spencer, in surprise. ’ “Tt's all here,’ dec'ared Dick, or “When you ¢ there, keep clear of a red-headed man. If sich a one wants to talk to you jist knock him down or vamose, There’s a plot here.” “This is some rascally nonsense,” averred Mr, Spencer, drawing away his hand. “What do you mean by it all?” ‘Don’t you go to Chester. That’s what I méan.” “Ido not think I will give up my journey on ac- count of your fortune-telling.”’ “There's danger, I tell you,” spoke out Diek, ear- nestly, ‘ There’s a red-headed man there, mate of the schooner Lucy. That's allI can tell you. You must keep clear of him. There’s a game ag’in’ you. If sich a chap wants to talk to you don’t give him no closer quarters than you would askeeter, There’s danger afloat.” ‘*What is it, Dick? What do you know?” demand- ed Mr. Spencer, impressed with the boy’s earnest manner, : “Don’t know half what I'd like to,” answered Diek. ‘Only know that the devil’s got his foot loose, and go his eyeon you. There’s folks tryin’ to ou out; jist you be spry.” ou are a strange customer. I shall beware of red-heads. If you have no more business, Dick, my time is limited,” “ All right!’ said Dick, going to the front window, and looking out into the street. ‘Is there an easy back way out of your house?” “ Yes. Why 9” “Cause there’s eyes in the front mustn’t see me, that’s all. Do you know that this palatial mansion is shaddered?”’ ; “Shadowed! What is that?” ‘*“ Watched,” explained Dick, mysteriously. ‘“‘ There’s eyes on you that you won't easy fling off. Can’t tell no more, but fist you beware.” His voice had grown very low and mysterious. *t And what- ever turns up don’t use my name. “ If I’m wanted, oe: eS a a "said Mr. S laughi “*T will SA. ght,” r. Spencer, ng. Ww be faithful to you to the death; and will avoid all red-headed men. This way, Dick.” In a few minutes more Dick was treading his way through back alleys, out of that neighborhood. Ina very short time after, Mr, Spencer left the house, and walked quickly down the street. He cast f ahaty glance around, but saw nothin more suspicious than a thick-set man leaning againnt & post and smoking a meerschaum, CHAPTER Im. DICK GOES INTO BUSINESS, Two gentlemen were seated in earnest conversation near the front window of a hotel room overlooking Arch street, Philadelphia. ae = aeantaasranrert Rn the large man, indolently s. > = aaa, eas One of them, a large, full-faced man, sat with his feet on the window-sill, in a remarkably easy at- titude. The other was a small, delicately-framed man, who seemed to be greatly annoyed ‘by some ag iy rey 4 _ “* Do you know, my dear boy, that we have so far been bamboozled? “That's just the word for it— bamboozled,” remarked the large man, with an ease that was not shared by his companion. ‘A new ten-dollar issue on the market. The Paw- kusset bank, It’s deuced provoking,” declared the small man. ‘And after six months’ work wo ont he an yal of ager. Ps : come. It will come,” protested the genes, Saat “We have set things. working, you ow. “ Workin, ainst us, I fear,” was the bitter rep)y . “We have fast put them on their guard. The ree tery f oat deeper every move we make." “Not a bit, my lad,” declared the large men, vn- concernedly. “‘We knew nothing then, and we know no more now. That is whatTI call atuiu qo. We will strike daylight yet, don’t fear that.” “ Well, if you ain't the confoundedest, easiest -roing, most unsatisfactory specimen of a private detective that I ever run across then I'll sel man impatiently, “I believe if an earthquai » were to rattle the house to pieces it wouldn't gei a shake out of you." » “TI don’t know,” was the quiet rejoinder, “The chills and fever tried it once. I was rtoshake than it was, though, so I shook it off. But, what ia the food of worrying? You can’t butter your pars- nips y grumbling at your ill-luck,”’ ‘1 have never I ever took on in my life,” said the testy gentleman. “And we are looked to, to do somefhtne. Here is 8 gang of counterfeiters flooding the country witlx money under the very noses of the Goyernmeut detectives. ‘There is not a month but that som. now issue comes out. And itis no engine work, I icll ea They are first-rate mechanics, the keen ess elbows I ever saw at hiding their trail. Th. y we just shamiing the whole Secret Service.” **Every dog has his day,” declared the other, in his easy manner. ‘Let them alone. Give t).. m rope. ey will hang themselves yet. We bove made ourselves somewhat too visible. We had better get back into the shadow and hide our hand. Tt sometimes pays to take to earth and only use your eyes.’ “Yes, and let Pinkerton's men step in and take t} » eout of our bag,’’ was the impatient reply. © [{ now they have scouts out. How would it sound \\» say that Will Frazer and Jack Bounce, the not-\ Secret Service officers, worked for half a year ou w blind trail and then let themselves be pinked by Pi kerton, I shouldn't like to see that in print.” ‘Well, Jack Bounce, for one, don’t care Yd fs. eel, it comes toa free race between the detectives, tlie: devil take the hindmost, that’s my programme. Bit when I trouble myself about anyt less impori- ant than burnt steak for dinner, or such like capitat ertmes, you can tell me of it.” “You are a yen philosopher, Jack," confessed his comrade. “I don’t know, though, t it makes te any worse at your business. Isuppose there is» © much stir about me, My game leaks out. 1 don’t know when I was ever more ashamed of myself | than about something that happened to-day." “Ah! Let’s hear it?’ asked Jack. “Do you know thatI was accosted by an impu- dent young rascal in full ‘street uniform—a cast-i coat and rags for breeches. He had my name pat, and my vocation, too, it seems. And, that wasv't all. He had smelt our business here, and was gu!) + to put us onsome wonderful track for only ten v. '- I was more inclined to give the youns, ville uw ten kicks, I never knew before that I carried wiy business in my face,” Before he Ne half-way through, Jack Bounce's feet were on the floor, and he was eying his comrex!e. steadily. re, didn't know that you valued ten dollars +o on know it wasn't the dollars.” “*It looks devilish like it,” was the vexed ts, “You were out of temper, Will, and haven't pot be. x: to it yet; or you wouldn’t have let that boy off xo You think, then, that he hadn't smelt my busi- ‘I know you are not afool. It don’tdoto shut an door in our own faces. You can take my word for it that it was not from you that the boy learned all the:, He may have had the very clew that has been bail. ing us. lshould like to see him.” I think I should kuow him again,” with a tumfl~ ity that showed that he felt the force of this re~ “ Then you had best keep your eyes open for bim,'* deelared Jack, in decid aocenta. “That spring must be pumped dry.” Will’s reply was a sudden leap to his feet and rash to the window. - ea he is ro eh Re cred. “Sed, the ts donning “ And sees you,” ed Jack. tS) into the hotel. He bas not given it up yet.” “ Had I best Ro down and look him up?" “Wait, wait,” ordered Jack. ‘You will aever aa the virtues of waiting. If he knows us he wilt us.’ “Well, I wash my hands of the young villain. You can manage him.” A few minutes passed in silent waiting. Then Jack aanemenae policy was confirmed by a loud knock at rr. "“ Come in!” he cried, resuming his easy attitude. ‘Phe door opened and in walked Dick Darling, tus out,” cried the n 80 long in the dark in any cose )
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-_———_— 4 coat, as usual, dragging at his feet, and his face innocent of fresh water. “ Morning, gentlemen!” “Come here, boy, and let’s have a good look at you, called out Jack. “Was that coat made to order?” “T dunno that I’m Ree, side-show for a circus,” retorted Dick, sturdily. ‘‘ An’ if you don't like my ulster maybe you'd buy it at half-price and give me is ne hat line of b ” laughing “Tm not in that line of business. ug J “= Come up here so I can see you. What is your name?” by Dick Darling, or Darling Dick. I’m called both ways. ““ What do you do for a living?” ““ Anything that’s honest and easy. I'll black your boots, if you want, hold your hosses, carry your bundles, or most anything else.” “And what are you after to-day?” Dick’s reply was to hel self to a chair, and to establish himself in the exact attitude of his questioner, with his feet on an adjoining window, and his chair tilted back. “Gan talk biz’ness a good deal better when I'm comfort’ble,” he explained. ‘‘ Don’t pay to wait for dnvertations nowadays.” “Well, if he ain’t cool enough to freeze hot water, I'll sell out,’ was Frazer's expressed opinion. “Now, out with it, Dick,” commanded Jack Bounce, in an amused tone. *‘ What bi have ‘you in hand to day?” “T’ve guv up all retail lines. I’m arter that set of counterfeiters that’s making things howl in the money market, and that’s laughin’ in their sleeves at Pinkerton’s and the Secret Service.” * What do you know about it?” asked Bounce, his feet falling to the floor in his surprise. *“T know that Will Frazer and Jack Bounce, two of Uncle Sam’s best men, have been smellin’ round for months, and haven't found a bad egg in the basket yet. I know that Ned Hogan his pals think they've got a scent, which won't work up worth a dime, And, finerly, I’ve got a stupid notion in my head that I see an openin’ into the den of ras- “Ah! and what is your opening?” “T wish you’d take a close look at my eyes, Mr. Jack Bounce, and see the color of them. If you can find any green there, then buy me cheap, that’s all." e: ch means that you don’t intend to tell me ‘what you mean?” 7 ich means,” answered Dick, “ that I'm on the make. I know there’s money in this. I'm for m sheer, that’s all. Don’t calkerlate to speni carting around an ulster that don’t fit, I’m in for makin my fortune, and goin’ into fashion, and “What do you think of this fellow, Will?” asked Bounce, t to his ey ag ee “T think he will never die from eg ag strik- ing in,” Will answered. ‘‘He’s took it, like the small-pox, on the surface.” “Maybe you and me can iif gon retorted defiantly. ‘‘ You took me for a sell y ; Tve a notion you sold yourself. Now I'll give Mr. Bounce jis chance. If he don’t take—why, me and Ned Hogan knows one another; that’s a word to the wise. “What do you want, Dick?’ asked Bounce, in a tone of amusement. “T want ten dollars now, to begin on. And I want to beletalone. Them’s two things. I won't promise that'll be last draw. It takes rhino to push these jobs through. Iff have to shut up my office, I’ve got to be floated awhile in cash.” * Where is your office, Dick?” “The last one I opened was on a toadstool seat in Independence Square,” confessed Dick, with un- ahageed effrontery. ‘ MaybeI can rent it out till I et through this small matter of biz’ness. I'm ared, though, it’ll be hard to collect the rent.” “And what is our security for our ten dollars?" “My face,” looking Jack squarely in the eye. “If uu can’t see ten dollars wuth of honesty there, we'll cry quits.” Dick rose from his chair and began butto his coat, his habitual action when he meant ness. “Of course it’ll be sheer and sheer alike, in re- words, profits, and sich,’ he added, pausing a mo- ment, “Do you take? If you do, lork over the needful. If you don't, why, don’t be long about say- +3 ’ “Strictly to the point Dick, eh?” said Jack, laugh- . “Come, my lad, I shouldn’t wonder if you érncll'a rat somewhere. Guess I won’t mind risking a tenon your personal security.” He took a bank-note from his pocket-book, and handed it to the boy in his easy, careless manner. Dic examined it with the eye of a connoisseur. “Well, do you think it crooked, eh?” *Thought mabybe it might be one of the new edition,” said Dick, honestly, “I don’t trust detec- tives too far; and you’re a bit green to trust a street nt like me.” Jack Bounce laughed heartily with an amusement which was not. shared by his companion. "fT can seent |.onesty in the air, my boy,” admitted Jack. ‘That is part of my business. And shrewd- ness, too. That is in oe face, or I wouldn’t risk on your honesty alone. I think I can venture as high wart ch on the chance of your working up your scheme,’ ‘*T dunno,” deprecated Dick, with a close setting of the lips. ‘‘ You mought lose your cash, P’veonly got a pin-hole to see through, so far, but I’ve a no- m that I can see a mighty long ways — it; and a thunderin’ pile of rascality at the ri ph when I want your help.” 4 z= | RE ee een ee ee ee ee en ee ee ee ee ee ee ee Detective Dick. 2 ek xe peye: or by letter?” asked Will Frazer, sar- castically. “By an unde und wire of myown. Guess I made all I can o os to-day. Ill vamose now till I want a few more of the me ts:”’ With a dignity that would have done him credit in a tragedy, Dick stalked from the room, not deigning a glance behind, f ““T think you are sold, Jack.” “T think not,’’ unconcernedly. “And I've just backed my opinion with an X.” CHAPTER IV. THE SELLER SOLD. Tue boy had designs on the ten-dollar bill which had y been contemplated by the giver. His next appearance is in a South street second-hand clothing establishment, surrounded by a plentiful array of ‘‘old clo’”’ which had experienc ene- ration, so far as their sins of the body would t. The proprietor, a cadaverous-looking gentleman, whose well-hooked nose seemed the larger portion of him, came bustling forward to where Dick had planted himself firmly on his sturdy legs, and was surve the stock in trade with the eye of a critic. ~ at can I do for my young friend to-day?” asked the storekeeper, with a habitual rubbing of his hands. ** Dunno when Linterduced you ’mong my friends,”’ returned Dick, with a look of serene haughtiness. “ Jist you keep your distance, Solomon. I didn’t come here to be talked to death.” The rietor drew back, as if abashed by Dick’s reproof. latter continued hig survey of the stock, his nose superciliously in the air. “Got any other eee he keep raglans and cutaways and sich?”’ ed Dick. “Tve got a beautiful assortment here,” the Jew “h “I know I can fit you out and make a 2 im oe ttle gentleman of you. What shall I show you?” Show me your coat-tails, if you’re goin’ on this way,” answered Dick, disgustedly. ‘‘ Heaven take the gentleman that could be made of your polished- ups old rags. Give us a squint at that short-tailed ver. The dealer brought down the coat indicated, hand- ling it with a look of intense admiration. ** What an eye the lad has!” ejaculated “Old Clo’.”” **He has hit on the very finest piece of English cloth my ae y at first glance." itis made. Look at that buttonhole!” ~ it u in,” ordered Dick. ‘I ain't buy- ing na) and hatto oles.”’ oh any dear frie i “ Cheese all that, old bo: { You're a good deal too fond of talk. Never see’d a feller so chock-full of blow. Jist let me alone. I’m doin’ my own buy- Fine storekee looked as if he would like to give Dick the benefit of his boot and an open door. But the boy, with an exasperating indifference, continued his critical survey, and examined and tried on coat — coat with a fastidious taste that quite disgusted & Tone think I have anything to please you,’”de- cided the latter, at length. “Well, it makes blamed little difference what you think,"’ rejoined Dick, independently. ‘I’m here to do the thinkin’. What do you want for this scoured- up old rag, now?" ick had on a coat the very reverse of the one he wore. tails reached but little beyond his and it looked like a roundabout which had cai ene a partial process of development into a -coat, “Ragt” screamed the Hebrew. “If he ain't the funniest fellow. Best French cloth, and very little bln a to call it a rag! Why, just look at that gloss! And it is the latest style.’ ‘Yes, I see that gloss," was Dick's curt answer. “Looks as if the owner had — his time polishin’ lamp-posts, Can't say that I keer much for style.” ck half dislocated his neck trying to twist his peotanene to get an idea of the set of the coat in “Come here. This way. Totheglass,”’ suggested the rather eh Dick eagerly before a very small uare of mirror. ‘How much is a fellar 'spected to see of hisself at once in that bizness?’”’ asked Dick, impatiently, after vainly endeavoring to see from his waist to his shoulder. “Let me hold it for you,” said the Jew, eagerly. “Tt's a beautiful fit—deautiful/ See how smooth it sets in the back. Such an elegant fit!” Dick got his head round over his left shoulder, but failed to see the wrinkles which the Jew was indus- triously smoo out. “ Mought if the price was agree’ble. What's the plunder?” . “That coat ought to bring not a penny less than - po and dog-cheap at that, for such a piece cloth.” “ Cheap at that, eh? What price mought it be dear at?’ “ What! for that dilapidated old—"” that coat down now. It's stuck by me faithful old piece of broadcloth like that. It only wants some scourin’, and a stitch or two.” oe Jew examined it all over with the eye of an artist. : ag oe me five dollars and I'll trade,” he said, at ength. ‘“Guv you five d’imonds!”’ answered Dick, con- temptuously. ‘Make it even up and I’m your man; and you've got a dead bargain.’ ** What, give that elegant French cloth frock for this old sack!” exclaimed the Jew. I’m breaking up business? Five dollars boot is a | ruinous sacrifice.” i ‘“*Here you are, Sol,” and Dick pulled out a two- i dollar bill. ‘‘Say the word on the nai!, quick as ; lightnin’. Got biz on hand, and can’t stand ° ag since me bs ' “ Four dollars. An at's a great fall,’’ responded the Jew, ponent » ‘ a Bees mh eee on d po a oe cried ot ee hast- ily ping o e coat. ‘ Hand over apanese broaddoth.” o pameaiaR ‘**Make it three,”’ conceded the Jew, as he saw Dick walking briskly to the door. “Two. And that’s the last word,” onded Dick, decidedly, as he emerged into the street. “*Come back,” groaned the Jew. ‘‘I can't bear to see you leave such an elegant fit behind you. But, V'll be ruined entirely if I make many such sales.” “ Oh, dct you are a generous-hearted old cuss,” and Dick resumed the coat, and passed over his two dollars. “The city ought to @ up your losses. You're a charitable old beat, you are.” And with a smile of contempt Dick left the store, proud at heart of his new attire. ‘Well, if Iain’t done the Jew! Didn’t think old Solomon would bite at such a Rar ge as that. It’s rg er to make a chap feel p’ he’s a human, to | sen he skinny old penny-squeezer. I feel jist one ‘00 er. oe laughin ope to — cay we of great n Dick progresse ugh the classic sean to Keath street, entering store after store, and picking up new cheap articles of sppere at ruin- ous prices, until he emerged like a butterfly in spring array, and minus five do in pocket. “Guess I’m gay and lively now. Fine feathers make fine birds.” Disposing of what remained of his old suit, Dick took way to the vicinity of a stationery establishment on Chestnut street above Eighth. Here he was seized with a desperate attack of lounging, and tiny several hours with no other apparent - than to display himself in his new spring suit to he fashionable denizens of that locality. Yet it ~. ¥ have been noticed that he paid his re- gards to the store in question so closely that not a soul entered it without under the ordeal of his eyes. Not until the store closed for the night did Dick cease his task of espionage. The next morning found him on his post again and though hour after hour passed he never stra, ed ; a Sry easy _eye-shot of the paper-selling establish- ment. Yet Dick was not without his sources of entertain- ment. One of these was the pulling of a torn envel- ope from his pocket, and looking through the paper toward the sun. He always returned it to his pocket with the re- mark: “ There's riches in that. That bit of paper is my end of the trail.” His other source of amusement was the thought of how he had done the Jew. “‘ Jist to think of old Sol tradin’ off an elegant coat like this for my old residenter!” Jt seemed as if he could never think of his shrewd- ness without breaking into a fit of laughter. Passers- by turned in startled rise at Dick’s sudden ex- plosion of merriment, only tc see him surveying his new coat with vast complacency, “No use talkin’, I’m great on a bargain, Wish my ihn come. It’s past dinner-time, and I’m in’ holler.’ Bis wish was speedily gratified by the entrance of 4 person to the stationery-store whose appearance gave Dick a sudden start. In a minute more he was across the street and had entered the store behind this person, a tall, handsome, well-dressed man. “Have you the paper ready which I ordered last week?” he asked, of the proprietor. “Yes, sir,’’ replied the latter, proceeding to get it, while his customer yaa waited. “Ts it the Gordon 8 paper, as I ordered?" “Certainly, sir. You may see the water-mark," holding up a sheet before his eyes. “What will you have?” asked a salesman of Dick. “Got any nice note-paper, with double D. for a sar fag oh “T can let you have it with D.”’ “T want double D. or nothing,” said Dick, posi- tively. * Pete have it made for anal “Can't wait. The ‘stablishments I deal with all keep double D’s. Didn’t know this was a one-hoss retail concern, or wouldn’t pernee you,” said Dick, walking out with great dignity. The gentleman with his package of paper had just left the store, and Dick kept his eyes intently on him as he followed him rather closely. Passing ne gy reper street he came, near Tenth street, face to face with Miss Andrews, whom Dick at once recognized as the pupil in the singing-lesson he had interrupted. The gentleman nodded familiarly to her as he , @ fact of which Dick made a mental note as e continued his close pursuit. The line of pursuit soon left Chestnut street, and ee less uented streets in an up-town dirsc- 1D. “Do you think ) Oe
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Was The gentleman walked along in an easy, careless manner, occasionally pausing to glance in a window, or casting a quick look behind him. Thus they went on for several squares, Dick kee ing rather close to the apparently unconscious ob- ject of his pursuit. He turned at length into an un- occupied by-street, through which he more slowly proceeded. Near the further end of the street he entered a narrow alley, Dick hurrying up lest he should lose sight of his prey. t was his astonishment, however, on arriving opnamtc the alley, to find himself ih a tight grasp, an bag face of the gentleman looking sternly down on him, ““Look here, boy, were you ever well kicked?” asked the gentleman. “ Never by a jackass,” ie a Dick, saucily, striv- ing in vain to wrench himself loose, ‘You young villain! You’ve followed me now from Chestnut street. If I am not mistaken you were in the store where I got ng 6 paper. What you are after the Lord only knows, but if I catch your dirty face at my heels a square further Ill leave you in a condition to be carried home on a shutter.” And loosing Dick with a contemptuous shove, the gentleman walked on. “*Look here, mister,’ called Dick, after him, “how many of the streets "bout these diggin’s mought you own?’ “What do you mean, sirrah?”’ was the angry reply. ESaly thought maybe you might rent me enough for a boy of my size to get through. Seems some- ae a feller’s got to ask you what streets he kia go rough. The entleman walked on, without answering this home thrust. ** Bet [ had him there,” thought Dick. ‘“‘That’sas ood a sell as I got on old Sol Wonder what rent e’d take for a foot or so of pavement.” The joke seemed so — that he broke into a ote week slapping his knee heartily in its enjoy- ment. A most unexpected result occurred. A sound of ripping cloth was heard, and the new coat split in the back from shoulder to waist. It was a most rueful face that Dick wore when he put his hand back and discovered the nature and extent of the accident. . “Tll be fizzled for a salt mackerel if old Sol didn’t sell me, after all!’ he ejaculated. ‘‘ Guess I'd best f° back, likea blamed young fool, and trade even up or my old ulster.” Recollection of his pursuit returning, Dick looked up quickly, The gentleman had disappeared. He ran ily to the next corner. In vain; there was no such person anywhere in sight. CHAPTER V. THE RED-HAIRED STRANGER. To Harry Spencer, whom we left on the verge of his trip to Chester, on an errand which we have so far but vaguely outlined, the mysterious communi- eation of Dick Darling had not been without its ye on his mind, despite his seeming disregard ° His acquaintance with this en gentleman had been rather romantic in its cha r, and one cal- fe ted to give him confidence in Dick’s good inten- ons. It had commenced by his saving the boy from a severe drubbing with which Dick was threatened by some of his associates. Dick was just then spoiling for a fight, and had stirred up a state of active war smate a from which he seemed likely emerge efeated. y Spencer had witnessed this affray—and taken such active part in it as to rescue Dick from ts, with no deeper wounds than a black eye and a bleeding nose. This assistance the boy had construed into an alliance, offensive and defen- sive, and he had since done his new friend more than one service from a sheer sense of gratitude. y Harry mused, as he sat in ecangt the railroad leading ‘south —— be one of his oddities. He knows someth ng which he does not wish to divulg th ridiculous way of wee me of some danger. As pipe in his pocket, was at this moment in the same car with his penepeeous prey, pursuing him as keenly as the hawk follows his quarry. He took a letter from _his ket and read it care , replacing it again with an air of much erThis ‘actio ted by Harry S h action was imita’ y Harry Spencer, who also produced a letter, which he poured over in- tently, his face expressive of great uncertainty. “TI wish I could see through the mystery of this strange business. I wonder if Dick, in his roamings through all sorts of places, has caught sight of some- thing threatening to saat But that is nonsense& where have I an enemy?” He read the letter over again, carefully consider- ing every word. “Tf you would hear of somethin very greatly to your advantage,” he read, “you be in the ci of Chester at three o’clock in the afternoon of Ap 10th. You will find the writer of this in Morgan’s restaurant at that hour, seated at aside table. Ad- dress the person with a green sprig in his button- Detective Dick. hole. He knows and will tell you something in regard to the great mystery of your life. Don’t fail, if you value wealth and honor. “ Your END.” *« 7s he my friend?” asked H: , dubiously. “It would be no new event fora wolf to wear sheep’s clothing. I must bear myself very discreetly in business." He saw new reason for doubt on his arrival at the depot in Chester. For turning suddenly after his leaving the car he caught sight of a man just step- ping down from the same car whose face seemed to him remarkably like that of the man with the meerschaum. The person, however, seemed to pay not the slight- est attention to him. On the cont , he turned and made his way to the upper end of the platform, Arrived there he took a narrow street that led down toward the Delaware, and was lost to sight. Harry stood watching until after the train had been gone for several minutes, but there was no sign of an in- tention to return. ““T believe IT am growing foo suspicious. Dick’s nonsense has infected me. Ido not know what wonderful discovery I shall be making next.” He took his way leisurely down the main street of the town, examining with a curious eye the obvious strife between antiquity and the modern spirit of in- novation which here plainly displayed itself. For this main street yet held the odor of the original town, in which civilization had set its foot before William Penn saw occasion to cross the ocean. Passing the ancient court-house, now used as a lecture and concert-room, the clock in its belfry pealed out the note of three. nega started at the warning and somewhat quick- ened his pace, though his mind was far from made up yetas to what action he had best take. Turning into James street, he soon saw the sign he had been looking for, * Morgan’s Restaurant,” glaring in great gilt letters above the front of a rather narrow store. Harry paused a moment irresolutely at the door, gazing absently up the street. In the distance he caught sight of.a thick-set man, who vaguely re- minded him of the man of the pipe. This person had just reached the main street, into which he turned. **Another false alarm,” thought Harry, smiling. “T wish Dick had not put such nonsense into my head. I will be seeing oy suspicious in my own shadow next, and accuse it of following me with dangerous designs. Well, here goes. The pone 98 way to get over the fear of cold water is to plunge in.’ ene opened the restaurant door and quickly en- red. A glance showed him the state of affairs within. It was a narrow, long room, containing some dozen of tables, three or four of which only were occupied. Avoiding any attention to these persons Harry gave an order for some slight refreshment, and seated himself at a table near the front, looking down the room. He sat idly playing with a spoon, and carelessly eying the persons present. Two of these were ap- arently a young man and his sweetheart, with the resh impress of the country on their faces, who were enjoying their ice-cream asif luxury was just then a far more substantial thing than love. There were two others near by these lovers, a =, mercantile individual, who was swallowing his ce as if an enemy had pe attacked the town, and it,;was necessary to put it out of sight at once it he hoe save it. ti , strong opposition to him was a dapper person- age a marae nase ao et the ae a “ oyment out of every morsel of his repast, and who {oko with amazed surprise at the way in which the rapid eater seemed torturing himself. There was one other person present, in the lower end of the room, who was quietly enjo a sub- stantial plate of roast beef, and whose eyes been fixed on Harry ever since his entrance, He was short ey rp lego ene with a thin, light- complexioned face, lit up by keen gray eyes. There were two main partic , however, which Harry chiefly saw in him. One of these was a green leaf at the lapel of his coat. The other was a plentiful ype of hair of a decided reddish tin: arry gave a slight oir men 8 start at Pa past dis- covery, the warning o: ueer yo re- turning to him with convincing eco. ae “Dick knew more than he would reveal, thought, as he bent his eyes resolutely on his plate. “There is certainly something wrong. I have nothing to do with this man.” His mind thus made up he quickly rose, and pay- ey er what he had ordered, left the saloon. et he had not taken ten steps outside before he was accosted by a strange voice. “*Excuse me, Mr. Spencer,” was the remark thus nee **May I have a minute’s conversation with you ed He turned to behold the red-haired man of the oon. “TI do not know where you learned my name, sir,” he coldly replied. ‘‘ You are a stranger to me, and T have no desire for communication with strangers.” “T know more of you than you are aware,” re- turned the stranger, politely. “My object in this interview is entirely your own advantage, not mine.” “T wish no advantage from you, sir,” said Harry, walking on decidedly. ‘Nor dol care to ‘prolong this conversation.” The — ve a quick glance backward. Not ten feet behind them was le the form of Harry’s persistent pursuer, who was jonnaing along as if t shop-windows were his only aim in life. A queer smile came upon the spare face of the man, as he again said: 5 “Su I desire to tell you something about that wh ch has been the great aim of your life? Sup- pose I. know something concerning that strange mystery of your parentage? Would my commuui- cation be then of no interest to you?” \ Harry turned sharply upon him. “What do you know about it?’ he sternly demand- “You are entirely too energetic, my dear sir,” re plied the other. ‘‘I know much more than you im- agine, and more than you can readily find out with- out my aid.” “And what is your object in appointing this inter- view? If you have such information, what do you expect to make by it?” arry’s tone was sharp and decisive. Eviden he was exceedingly doubtful of the man, and a li fearful of prolonging this interview. “Of course if I should assist you to wealth, for in- stance, I should expect to be remembered,"’ said the man, smiling. “I never did anything for pure love. Certainly ten minutes’ talk with me won't hurt you. Step here into Price’s for ten minutes only.” **T don’t think that Iam seriously afraid of you, or of any man, for that matter,’’ Harry remarked, as he followed into a corner tavern, It was nearer a half-hour than ten minutes when Harry emerged into the street, leaving the red- haired man behind him, The first person he saw there was no other than the man of the meerschawm who seemed deeply interested in the movements » Beret aoend Dnata ly in the f h .<, arry loo m sharply in the face as he passe half inclined to accost him and accuse him of persist- ent dogging of his steps. But the man looked se unconscious of his presence, and it grew so doubtful whether he really was the man whom he supposed him, that he walked on without speaking. The man paid no seeming attention to him. He waited until Harry had got some distance up the street, and then turned and entered the hotel. Looking sharply around, he soon caught sight of the red-haired man, who was seated at a table, quiet- ly sipping a glass of ale, and examining some loose papers € looked up with an odd expression at the entrance of Ned Hogan, for it was really he. But the stranger paid no further attention to him, Hogan stood undecided for a minute, then called for and drank a glass of liquor, and left the saloon without speaking to the stranger. **Guess I'd best not break the ice till it’s froze harder,” he mused. ‘* Harry Spencer's nailed if Taint badly sold. I must see Harris.” He soon turned from the street into an office that — had for sign: “H. Wiuson Harris, Attorney-at-law.” The occupant, a short, dapper, important-looking personage, glanced up at Hogan with a look of ‘re- on ; ly * I have been expecting you. Take a chair.” r hing new turned up?” asked moe as he threw self into a chair that creak th his weet “How about the Lucy and the red haired “You are too quickly at the point, Mr. Hogan,” replied the consequential uwres. bie hte © Ver mark to make first,” “Out with it then!” “What did you mean by sending me as a messen- ger that compound of impudence, dirt, and rags, t brought your letter and with it nine-tenths the bo — of all the Se ee . ‘S’pose I answer your question by as another What did you mean by getting riled rr a boy's pranks and giving business the go-by?’ “Tt was more your business than mine. I did not relish being subjected to a bootblack’s insults.” '* Ain’t you ator ee for a lawyer, Mr. ? Isent that boy because he’s a sharp oun rascal, and was the handiest that Ihad. You'll may- be see more of yet. But let’s get to business. How about the sandy-haired mate?” “He is living very quietly at Price’s. _He seems to have no business and to know nobody. His time is spent in lounging about the town.” “And the Lucy? Anything mysterious about her? Any sort of cargo landed?” j “Nothing. She lay quietly at the wharf for a day or two, e has been gone—” “Gone! The deuce!” exclaimed Hogan. “No, the Lucy,” quietly replied Harris. “Where did she go?” “She slipped out between two suns. Nobody knows when or where.” “ What kind of a vessel was this Lucy?” “ A two-masted vessel, Not very , or very “ An old schooner. And that’s all you know about her? You've got a better eye for a law-paper than a vessel, Mr. salt on the pier who will tell me all about her.”’ “That may be,”’ admitted Harris, as Hogan rose to go. “Look for old Mr. Pike. He sees everything down that way.” Hogan made his way quickly to the main wharf of the town, on whose verge stood the old Steamboat tavern, a revolutionary relic of the . On the porch of this edifice a tall, straight, — old man, with his eyes fixed lovingly on the er. “ How is my old —— Pike?” asked Hogan, vigor- ously clas his han ton, ine sound, and sweet,” was the old man’s re er. : ‘Anything new stirring hereabouts? Any new craft in, or the like?” - Nothing but a schooner that crept in a day or two , and crept out ag’in last night.” * t kind of a looking craft?” “A very rakish build. Very low down amidshipa, arris. I bet I'll find some old river ©
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Painted black, witha red streak. Carried a heavy show pe shane say ape was built for a y & wn old in service.” sn she land anything?” “J did hear of some things being taken off of her at midnight. Joe Bower happened to be prowling around. What’s the matter? Anything wrong?” “No, Which way did she goy” “ Up the river.” " k you, Mr. zee How’s shad-fishing going _ to work th “ Prime!” Gpclared the old man, with enthusiasm, ‘There’s show of a heavy run. The nets made a fine haul yesterday.” After a few words more of desultory conversa- tion, Hogan left the old river-dog and made his way hack into the town. “ob { CHAPTER VI. * HELEN ANDREWS’S TWO VISITORS. Ir was with great amusement that Harry Spencer eld a spectacle which the reader has a ly seen. It was no other than that of a half-grown bo ew ho Pace resembled a locust in the act of - ita s or hig short, tight coat was split down the back, ma shoulder to waist, the gaping wound revealing wa plentiful Soper of dingy shirt, Dick rapa or it was he, turned with a rueful ace that brig’ tened somewhat on seeing Harry. “Why, what under the sun has happened?" asked the latter, engine: “Ts my old friend Dick about Ike grep his skin and come out new, like a butter~ by bigh old butterfly I'd make, wouldn’t I?” and |Sick twisted his head around in an effort to see the smiddie of his back, ‘Is my coat tore?’ he asked, vas if he had just discovered something wrong. he, weeeriay. om But where u such @ spruce rig never saw you 80 Zouch like a dandy before.” _ * It’s.@ bran-new suit,” protested Dick, with some rite, “-OCept that ’vea notion it’s been on some ots back afore mine. Bought it from Sol Sly, a South . Reckon he thinks he’s sold me as well as the coat. Shouldn’t wonder if I'd pay my waa oe to that mercenary individual. Got a sa che Sots the ng see coat iy ph stri er ga seam. su him with a pin or two em with the aid of hich de drew together the ter part of the rip. “Bet '1 square with old Sol for this,” he declared, as he carefully introduced himself again into the dubicag mt, Itwas too tight for the pins to do their service, and the one great wound was ex- changed for a half-dozen narrow openings. Harry laughed again az he inspected Dick’s ap- pearance, * That is a decided as Rahrig wiser You had better see if your tailor won’t exch ie “If he don’t ll punch his blasted old head,” said “Went and swopped my ulster Dick beg aon on - for this Xs tom f cobweb, and guv boot, tool” m “Well ust be going, Dick. I hope you will get even with your man.” “If I don’t, sell me for a fried oyster. there’s so > Iwant you totell me afore you bate ¢ “Alt vight. Let me hear what it is.” “IT spose you recollect a sort of - , ea ny Gwent ge Mogg religion’ oh cer OW, alc planer arter the lesson’s over!” o pappepes Sos What then?” “Only [ve got some pene biz’ness with that Mueeyed, angel, that’s Want to know where Vv 8, “What business can you have with her?” “Qhi private. "Tain’t none of yourn. Don't cal- to mention your name.” . “I am afraid the young lady may not thank me for sending her Dick Darling as a visitor.” “Don’t you worry your cranium ‘bout that. Guess I look spruce enough to pay my ’specte to athe rl ek a couple of pins more in my coab _. Detective Dick. followed, and in t of whom he had been s0 sig- nalie alton ae m2. PR Mr. Andrew Williamson, the gentleman in question, was a tall, rather stout person, handsome in face, a full brown mustache shading his well-formed mouth, while his eyes were small, dark and somewhat shift- nen expression. 6 stood ing a chair with ahand that closed on the wood as if it would crush it. Opposite him Miss Andrews sat easily on a sofa, a little tinge of amusement on her face. “ Now, do be seated, Mr. Williamson,” she insisted. “ You will ey. hurt my poor chair if you close your fingers upon it in that energetic fashion.” “ And you did not mean a word yor have said?” he asked, releasing the chair he been uncon- sciously ping. ‘It is only some of your humor?” “My humort!” she replied, holding up her hands in affected horror. “ That is the first time I have been accused of anything so unfashionable.”’ “You are disposed to be witty, at my expense,” with a darkening look upon his face. “At your expense?” with a rippling smile. ‘As if a gentleman of cpibarietadenn wit, like Mr. Wil- pets” ns could not defend himself against my poor assal As “ Thore are some antagonists whom we dare not draw 6ur weapons agains “ Oh, do not spare me, sir. If it comes té & con test of wits I certainly have no mercy upon you. " “*T believe you,” he replied, as if he had had plenty demonstration of the fact. ‘“‘ But, for mercy’s sake Miss Andrews, do be serious now. I hardly expected. to be answered in that fashion.” “T hope you do not wish toadd to your other duties that of regulator of the fashion of my answers?” she suggested, sarcastically. , He flung himself gloomily into a chair. “Perhaps I have offended you in some way. Or aes the manly charms of your devoted music- her may have thrown all my poor claims into the 8.” “Will you please lain what you mean, sir?’’ she haughtily pt sa pe with a grand sweep from her “T hardly think an saplanation necessary,” he re- plied. ‘“ You know perfectly well that I have good reason for what I say.” “Tknow this perfectly well, sir,” she answe “that my gentlemen friends are not in the habit o: insulting me, and that Iam very little inclined tosub- mit to insult. I think there is no occasion for us to continue this conversation.” ou; and you know as well that I have some righ PA be ed at—” * At what, sir?” “ Shall I call it flirtation? Will you please explain which of us, I or the music-teacher, is the one whom you are pleased to flirt with?” His tone showed that he was too indignant to con- sider how far he might be injuring himself by these wo “Thardly think that Mr. cer will ever have on,”’ she replied, with Harry Spencer is?’’ he de- mand. Lg tay, ig as she grew excited. I know that he is a gentleman.” » besides “ As birth, for instance.” “Oh! Then he is of no family?” “It would be difficult for him to tell. If you should like to know po ask him who was his father.” “ And what answer would I be likely to get to such an eee question?”’ “T should like to know myself how he would an- swer,” and he uttered, with a constrained laugh, “I am afraid it would puzzle him to tell you. re is a little mystery connected with his birth which Harry Spencer would searcely care to be forced to “dhe seated herself, or, rather, dropped into a chair, looking up at him with scared eyes “Woll, here are her directions,”’ and Harry wrote alown an address on a card. “No nonsense now, I can’t imagine what business you can have with ber,” “Your tion ain’t very profuse. Didn't ‘take my warnin’. Went to Chester and see'd the arcd-haired man, spite of all.” “t{ow amder heaven can you know that?” de *mended Harry, in great surprise. * Know more than that,’ confessed Dick, turning in bis heel to leave. hohe it won’t git you into ‘trouble, but I’m afeard it will.” Dick walked away after delivering this oracular wenvence, but turned to add: * Jist ag keep your eye skinned, Mr. Spencer. the devil to pay if you ain’t sharp as a mew razor. ‘t say no more. You've got the «aris, Take keer how you shuftie them.” Harry stood for minutes in deep wonder as to we ory A ce m pele ah qe le precede. Dick iu bis e lady swhose directions he had thus obtained. gules ‘Miss Andrews lived in a fine mansion on Sprnce ‘treet—the residence of her father, a prosperous merchant. ‘The: house was beautifully furnished, #c.j the many choice pictures on its w testified to ‘t. taste as*welbas to the wealth of its inmates, “sok bad been preceded in another manner, un- @) eoed of by him, For the gentleman who was so « _ csthy conversing’with Miss Andrews in the par- ice was 20 Other than be whom the boy had lately } ‘anything a yes. “But a truce to all this,” he continued; “Ido not wish to injure the man, and am sorry that I said ut him. I am in no serious fear of your too much for a@ man who, for all we know, may wear the bar sinister upon his shield.’ ie “ Will you be kind eno to change the subject? with a flush of crimson on her cheek. “Tf rou will but let me return to our former sub- ae i have not offended you too deeply in the nterim,” * Perhaps you had best not recall your offenses,” she answered, with flashing eyes. “Now youare angry, Helen, Iam sorry, indeed I aay I have no better control over myself. Jealousy has madea fool of me, as of better men. Will you not forgive the fault which love counsels? Will you not—” He BR yse 5 as she turned away with what he seemed to think a contemptuous gesture. He was mistaken in this; it was a step outside the door which had attracted her. She was agitated as she rose to answer a knock upon the door, “ There is a young scene eae out here wishes to see you a minute, Miss Helen,” the servant explain- * You will excuse me, Mr. Williamson?”’ “ Certainly,’ with a smile that grew deep and subtle as the door closed upon her. ae a a pe that pnete eran ) a spel ut a fluttering bird, ow svell where ber nest will be.” Pp aa ee to the room where her Helen had walked qui ith surprise she saw the visitor was awaiting her. shrewd face of Dic Darling. “Do you wish to see me?”’ “ Well, that’s about what brung me here," he an- swered, stretching himself out in a chair. “Geb a minute’s worth of bizness.”’ “Very well, sir. My time is limited.” “So is mine. You never saw ac whose time was as limited as this identercal individual” ‘What do you wish with me?” she demanded tm- patiently. “Does it come back to your recollection that you nodded to a ceriain person, say about Eleventh and oer and, to wit, at two o'clock this after- noon?” “IT remember doing so,” she answered, after 6 mo ment’s thought. “ That’s jest to the mark,” declared Dick, excited: ly. ‘I want the name of that certain person. Lilae- wise where he hangs out. Moreover, who he is.” Dick seemed quite proud of his loner te way of potting t, He was slightly taken aback, however, y her reply. “Ts that all?” fi Sen “That's all!” . - “Then I decline to give you any information in re- gard to that certain person,” with an invo smile at Dick’s manner. “You ain’t goin’ back on me that babe ny “T believe you said that was all your business?" * About all,” resignedly. ‘ All I've got to say is that you're harborin’ a rascal. Harborin’s jist the ets miss, Arex’lar pad yom of a rogue." ““You have nothing more say? ‘ BF ive ae at enough, rising and walk. ward the door. "Despite her andiquaiae: the could not help langh- back, at the aspect of his new coat. a comewhat emboldened by this, Dick turned and “ Ho} ou won't take it ag’in’ me, mise, Jist take this last shot. If you know this chap, on him like a hot potater, and you'll git off wi rs.” burnt Instead of returning to the parlor Helen went slowly to her own room, sending her excuses to Mr, Williamson by a servant. She ne time to reflect upon the two strange charges she just CHAPTER VIL. THE LUCY’S TWIN SISTER. Nep Hoaan, back from his visit to Chester, is again seated behind his favorite meerschaum in room where we first met him. Stretching himself out easily he takes the from his lips and lays it temporarily upon the while his hand goes on an exploring expedition into his yee “I don’t know that I’ve got an ounce of proof ositive,” he muttered as he drew from its acle a well-thumbed letter, ‘Tracked him Chester well enough. Seen his interview with the red- Ry, too. That’s correct as far as i; goes, but how do I know but this is a sell?” He opened the letter and again read it. After the address it read as follows: “Tf you would gain a clew to that mysterious of counterfeiters who have been setting the dchecks ives at defiance, you will follow these di There will, two days from the date of this letter, ut into the port of Chester a small schooner he Lucy. She belongs to the gang in question, amd will leave there one of her officers, a red-haired, faced man. She will also land ce materi- als of the counterfeiters, with the purpose of con- tinuing their operations in that locality. A yo man named Harry Spencer, of 1084 North Eleven’ street, is connected with the gang. If oe want te discover their movements you had {| shadow him, for he will go at once to Chester and have 2 interview with the red-headed man referred to. you wish to learn more, you will find in his house a supply of counterfeit bank-notes, and also inform- ation which may put you on the track of his con- federates, A Frizenp.” “A friend to who, that’s the mystery. Sar- tain he’s no friend to Spencer. He mought want to hurt him. It’s true things come out just as he says. But then, there’s nothing to show that the schooner, or Mr. Redhead, had anything to do with the gang. And it sounds like a sell on me about the counterfeiters in Spencer’s house, Don’t like to make a false move, Hope Harris will track his man and the Lucy’s cargo into some port of entry. I’m ecnrious about that schooner. May- be Dick may fetch her.”’ He had hardly pein this ere the person named entered the room, w Hogan looked at him in surprise. “Well, I'll be 8wigged!” he exclaimed, “if the boy ain’t changed his skin. Who the blazes melted yon and poured you into them clothes? And what's appened to the back of your coat?” you didn’t ax so many questions in one mouth- ful I mought answer them more categorically,” and Dick seated himself with an air as if he felt that word to be a regular stunner. “The back of my coat somehow seems to take folks’ eyes.” ‘It’s such a splittin’ tight fit,’’ explained Hogan. **Was down at the menagerie, and tried a back somerset over an elephant’s back. Went over and didn’t touch a hair. But it were a leetle too nwich of a strain on my new raglan.” ** Maybe it was some such lie as that swelled you out and bu’sted your outfit,” suggested resuming his pipe. ‘‘ Been. along the wharv “TL hev,”’ quietly. th his usual free-and-easy air. ©
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$s “Seen anything?” “Bout a couple of ounces or so.” “What sort? “Seen the Lucy!’ proudly. &heeso is made of sour mill:.”’ ‘**fallo, boy! Now you're goin’ to take an extra split in your coat, sure.’ ** Ain’ta word of lie in it,” assured Dick, produc- ingastump of a cigar from his pocket. “S’pose that’s what you’re hintin’ at. Guv us a Weht. Can't talc biz’ness ’cept I’ve got a smell ef the weed. Dick was a comical object es he leaned back, puff- ing vigorously at his hali?-smokoJ cigar, his small, keen boy’s face shrouded in smoke, his curly hair straggling in absolute deflance of combs, and his new attire clinging as closely to his limbs as if he had been foreed into his clothes by a pile-driver. The tenderness of his pinned-up coat forced him into unusual carefuluess and deliberation of move- mont, “There. That’s comfort,” he declared, resigned- ly, after ho had sent a small cloud of smoke to the coiting. ‘Now I can tals categorically. I see’d the Luey. Sho’s changed her coat, though, and dropped her name, It’s the Molly now.” “Tho Molly, hey! Sure of that, Dick?” asked Hogan, with great interest, “Sure? Ax mo if I’m sure that this is my own nose, Did I eversay anything categor—” “Stop right there, boy. You'll choke sure if that big word gets sideways in your throat,” “ Anyhow I sce’d the Lucy and I see’d the Molly, and thoy’re twin sisters, only the Lucy wore a black dress with a red ribbon, and the Molly takes to blue. Can’t ram _ no sich transmogrification down Dick Darling’s throat.” “Where does she lie?” * At Poplar street wharf.” “Jist as sure as out of her?” queried “She belongs to the gang, Dick. She’ll bear watching.” ** And do you s’pose this iB is goin’ to sell their- Selves out as cheap as that it’s my notion there’s some deeper game in that lotter.” “It may have come from some one who is turning traitor to tho countorfeiters.” “* Tt didn’t do nothin’ of the sort,” protested Dick sitively, ‘* The fcller that wrote that letter knowed ford put you on the track of the Lucy, and wanted to throw you of ag’in. Hoe weren’t no traito:,.then, and he’s got some ag you don’tsee, I'll bet acow he’s tryin’ to hurt Mr. Spencer.” “T have thought of that,” admitted Hogan, ‘ Wish Thad tools hold of the red-haired man.” “Don’t you do e a ete ‘rnin “Tell best. to watch him. I'll go a peanu nst & per- Rinineane that Chester biz’noss is only a blind.” * You're a shrewd imp, Dick,” “T lin see a hole through a ladder. I’m goin’ down ‘now to see the chap as sold me this coat, and sold wuss then the coat. Ivea notion to guv him a ‘Piocos of my mind.” } ““Good-by, Dick. Draw it mild, my boy. It’s all fa the way of business, you know.” Dick wallzed leisurcly out, saying to himself: “ You’re a smart chap, Ned Hogan, but you won't atch these: birds in you’ spring-trap. And them Government detectives ain’t as near the game as you! I'm goin’ for them makers of the queer and ms: ae of the sly,Iam. Bet I make Rome how) afore I git rourh with them!” te took from his pocket the torn envelope he had ‘ore used, and looked through it at the sun, He en replaced it in his pocket with an air of great satisfaction. ack vi the sauce for their mutton,” he said, con- ently. Ten minutes afterward Dick burst into old Sol’s elothing ostablishment with the air of a boy that meant business. He was arrested in his object, how- ever, by an-unexpected jncident. Bho Jow was engaged ia earnest conversation with a gentlamanly-dressed person. Tuey both looked round at Dick’s abrupt entrance, and he saw to his utter surprise, that this gentlaman was no other than the man whom he had so unsuccessfully tracked. Hie had also overheard something interesting. “[putit in a place,” Solhad declared, ‘* where a — eye co ’t miss it. They'll take him in the “Look here, old Sol Sly,”’ cried out Dick, anxious to appsar not to have noticed these words, ‘do you coll this a coatto sell to a gentleman of my standin’ ; 1 s'cicty?”’ He turned round to submit back to atnection, “TI must be going now,” remarked Mr. Williamson ¥ th anly a casual —— at the boy. “ You will sad the things round to my house?” “*Certainly,”” answered the Jew, in a tone that #omed to Dick somewhat nervous. ‘* That’s a blind,” thought Dick to himself. “* Aud now, my dear young friend, what can I do - ryou to-day?’ demanded Sol, returning from the or. “That's a high old cove to be callin’ on you, old feller. I’ve see’d of’en, but never knowed his name. What do you call him?” “Mr, Williamson,” answered Sel, quietly. “In nee ’” asked Dick, “or is he only a bu’stin’ ristosrat?” “Tia hag am office at Fourth and Walnut. But wh: does my young friend want to day?” “ more than I ’speeted,”’ said Diek te himself. “@o-) +7 aan let mp same en you.” ; “Jes (eke an observation of that eoat,” effering > Detectivé Dick. himself for ae Ps a ee to yourself what would happen if the pins should let go their holt.” “You have been doing something to that coat,” asseverated Sol. “Of course I have,” retorted Dick. “I’ve been bu’stin’ it.” “‘Tt’s your own fault. I told you the coat was too tight, and was a trifle tender in the seams.” “Is that the first lie you ever told?” asked Dick, sarcastically. ‘*’Cause if it is you take to it as nat’ral as a duck to water. But if you calkerlate to shet o my eye, and then choke me off with that kind of logic, you're barkin’ up the wrong tree, that’s all. “You've got eyes of your own,”’ avowed Sol, de- eidedly. “I don’t find eyes and clothing both for customers.” *You’re jist an infernal lying, cheating, blasted old sockdologer!"’ and Dick spoke excitedly. * And if you don’t trade back my old ulster I'll bu’st your b’iler quicker than a hen kin crow.” He flung off the coat, and began to roll up hig sleeves as if he meant work. “It is only the seam that has ripped,” plead Sol, nervously. ‘“‘ That can easily be sewed up.” “Ain’t takin’ in plain sewing for a living. Guv me my own coat back, an’ you kin stitch up your own pin’s,” The Jew seemed disposed to accommodate Dick, orto bea little afraid of him, and began to show him other articles of apparel. Then ensued a scene of dickeri which the reader will forgive our troubling him with. It ended in Dick’s procuring another coat several degrees further aon6 than the one he had brought back, but having the advantage of being a much looser fit. “Guess I’m spruce now,” and Dick made a bee- line for Fourth and Walnut. ‘ Want to find out in- stanter if Sol told the truth. If I kin git on this man’s track it’s better than gettin’ a new coat.” search was not a long one. In one of the buildings, that seemed overflowing with office-rent- ing tenants, he soon discovered a door having on ita sign to this effect: ““ ANDREW WILLIAMSON, Attorney-at-Law.” “That's a good day’s work,” thought Dick. “Guess I’ve druy more than one nail to the head, om gO home now und see what's the chance for ru And he ended a hard day’s work with a not very luxurious supper. CHAPTER VII. HARRY SPENCER'S VISITORS, “Now don’t nobody bother me fur an hour, more or less,” commanded Dick Darling, letting himself down gingerly into a chair that was doing its best to maintain a dignified position on three legs. Before him was a table of the most venerable aspect, on which he had deposited a sheet of pap’r and a bottle of ink. : are you up to now?" demanded a woman, who was bus about the room. “You are always after some nonsense,” “T guess the feller as gits this dokyment won't call it nonsense,” returned Dick, with much dignity, “I'm goin’ to let out a little of my eddication, and I hope he’ll only enjoy it.” “ Going to write a letter, Dick?” “You've hit it there, Aunt Sally. I don’t do much that ~~ But it’s me fur all that.” Dick dipped his pen into the inkstand and spread himself for work. uaring his elbows, and bending over the paper till it seemed as if he was going to trace the characters with his nose, he began to write, his tongue following every movement of the pen. It was no light labor he had undertaken, to judge by the immense pains he expended upon ev word, and the air of triumph ‘with which he finish every satisfactory sentence. “How do you spell counterfeit?” he asked, ap- pealing to his aunt. “IT don’t spell it at all,” with a vigorous movement across the room. “Dunno how, I s’pose,” sarcastically. ‘ Guess I'll have to wrastle with it myself. .‘O-o-u-n-t,’ count, ‘h-e-r,’ her, *f-e-e-t,’ feet, counterfeit. Calkérlate that’s bout it. Didn’t know, though, it had anything to do with counting people’s feet.” He traveled on half-way down the sheet, finishi with a grand flourish over the signature, ‘Richa paring leaning back and complacently regarding is work, “Wonder if he'll understand it? Maybe I'd best put it Dick.” “Got Esq after it?” asked his aunt. “ Ain’t puttin’ on no 'ristocratic airs. But he'll be ’stonished enough "bout this letter without any side highfalutin’s.”’ Dick, with some little difficulty, read the letter over to himself. It ran somewhat in this vein: \Bpected to got urtunity to rach ot ap run across you, but reckon I best rite. Ther’s blazes to pay, so mind yer i. Ther’s them arter you as will make things lively, You’ve an enemy, sur. Can’t say no | more; but jist hunt your hous’ fur a bunch of eount- herfeet. me chap’s been slipin’ the sly on you. Ther's offesuxs on yer track. Burn the counther- feets quicker’n lig’tning, or ther’) be thunder to pay. **RIGHARD Darina.” “We’s dumb as all blazes if he don’ttake hat in. | Wouldn't Ned Hogan hewl if he knowed what I’m at! Guess I'll put in, Burn this imstanter.’ Mought sell the pass en me.” Dick sealed his letter and earefulky direeted it. “Got a two-center stamp, aunt Sally?” he “Tf you don’t quit bothering me, I'll put a handle stamp on the back of your neck,” and s bustling woman looked savagely at him. “Guess I'll have to lay out for one at the Taz. corre yt ,” leaving the house with his pendent air. We must follow his letter to its destination ft hands Ne Mr, Harry Spencer, to whom it “*I do not know what could have kept Helen her lesson,” he says, gloomily, rising from his . and pacing the floor with a ntented air, never missed before, and she sur should 4 sent some explanation. It is har a however, for scholars to excuse themselves their music teachers for loss of a lesson. getting tooimpatient.” His rapid walk was brought to a close by a qylittr ring at the door-bell. “Can this be pr missing pupil now?’ he mured, with a glad expression, “ Yet this fs «al day. And it sounds more like the ng. Spal It proved to be the postman, with Dick’s He looked at it curiously, from side to me 9 knowing quite what to make of the address. “This is not what you would call ac hand,” he remarked, as he tore open the oe ” “Who can my new correspondent With a look of utter bewilderment he epistle, which task was not very easily accompa Dick’s Able 4 being his 3 wonder, and who is todo the counti Dartngy Richard—oh, Dick? I have it now, one of Dick’s mysterious warnings. It isa there is not something in it about red-headed Yet, Dick was right about the red hair, There be something here worth attending to, if I get the hang of this odd epistle.” He again intently perused it, “Does he mean counterfeit?” he asked do ‘*Am I to understand that some enemy has hid Ahi terfeit money in my house for the purpose of me into trouble? Perhaps Ihad beiter "He was prevented from doing so by ano at the bell. Thrusting Dick’s letter into his . = 4) his nabfding, he waited impatiently to see who it was, The parlor door cpap. and in walked pupil, a demure loo n her faee. u she had felt an po that he was ar ee ced with a quiet, 6 advan w a “Twas just thi * “Shall we proceed with our lesson to-day?" “No, sir.” “But you have missed a lesson fond doubt as to the sen " her teacher toward her, the look of sudden that beamed ig roars face would have ta’ ” “T am afraid I shall have to miss others, Mr cer, Certain circumstances render it inad im” iy oenees should be continued for the p “ © looked up with quick surprise and Why, Helen—Miss Andrews—"’ he said, “What can have happened? Havel offen ; “Not at all, sir. ere are othe you will please excuse my mentioning for ent. The lessons have been very instructive te “ And pleasant?”’ he asked, sinking, with a air, into a seat. r pleasant.” “Yet we have not gone over our lesson of Waits,’’’ he went on, with a feeble attempt antry. ‘Shall we not, at least, have one exercise?” “Not *‘ Love Waits,’”’ she replied. “Let it be this, then,” he exclaimed, teeing: quickly over his music. She bent over the thick pile, anxicus to what song he was looking. Their faces close together; her breath moved his hair, his hand turned the music more slowly. The situation had become decided ys oa him. His hand lingered. He lifted eyes to hers. ais a anes. ay I offended?" came in a whitgewing ne trom is 6, ’ “Tn abit’ she replied. “The offense aeste with others.” * There is offense, then?’ he quickly asked. She drew back a little before replying. she may have intended te say, she was pre a new ringing at the bell. | He stood a moment, looking toward the if he could have annihilated the person in : Heavy steps followed, as if more than one had entered. But they passed the door of the and seemed to f° toward the rear of the house. “They must be friends of my housekee ' resiatneed, paying no further attention to ion R. ors. Miss Andrews stood in a quiet observant ua seemingly not quite satisfied with her , as if in doubt just how to act. He made no further allusion to her last went} fut. commenced to again seek through the music. Several minutes of silence thus passed, Qs. which the footsteps of the visitors were | intervals. ‘Here it is,” he said. ‘‘ ‘She is so near.’” ***And yet so far,’ ” she sung. “Not so far,” taking a quick step toward hea | At this moment the feotsteps again appreached | the door. It was quickly opened, omd twe rather | roughly men entered. a el a i ll Se E> ~ ene dignified air. P of you,” was his welhbum, | r reasons, - gs al a
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ae SSeS = 2a ae ee = ere : ~~. = One of them, whose face Harry remembered hav- seen somewhere lately, approached him, saying: ‘Excuse me, miss; Ihave a bit of business wit entleman.”’ “TI shall go, then,” nervous at some indefinite threat in his tone. “Do not go,” Harry quickly exclaimed. ‘I have a er usiness with these men. What do you fe) ” you recognize e olding out a “Bo ize this ?” holdi t small parcel. “TI do not,” “Perhaps you may now,” suggested Ned Hogan, ‘S ick oped th 1, and displayed e quickly open e parcel, an yed a con- siderable qnuhber of bank-notes. “ Well, sir?” asked Harty, uestioningly. “That is well played, Mr. Spencer. ese came out of your private desk. They are counterfeits, of the kind that the city has been flooded with lately, ~“ And what?” “Tt is my duty to arrest ,you as an accomplice of be 4 counterfeiters.” - ‘ade ; ere was an appealing cry. Harry looked up, to i the eyes of Miss Andes fixed with trembling icitude upon his, to feel her hand laid protectingly upon his shoulder. CHAPTER IX. ~ DICK GIVES THE DETECTIVES A COMMISSION. Tux two government detectives are seated in their room at the hotel. “Or not both seated just now, for Frazer is pacin _ the floor in a restless, discontented manner. Jac Bounce, however, has established his large frame in one of his easy attitudes, and is coolly peeling an orange, while he looks up in a questioning manner at his associate. .“* Well, we have tried hiding our heads and wait- ing for developments,”’ declared Frazer, sarcastic- y- “I do not find developments opening up very - “Wait, my boy,” responded Jack. “The man that can wait longest wins. Have an orange?” ier NO;"* pe ingore “T have matters of more im- portance to think of just now than eating oranges.” “Have you? I haven't,” responded Jack, as he threw back the golden rind of the fruit and applied its luscious interior to his lips. _ “Tl be shot if you ain’t enough to make a saint #wear!” cried Will, throwing himself angrily into a chair, ‘‘Do you think these fellows we are after will come to our room and give themselves up?” _ ©“ Softly, softly, my boy,” taking a morsel of his orange between each sentence. ‘‘ Maybe you think, Will, that flirting about like a fly on a hot shovel is to do some great good. Did you ever gain anything by getting out of temper?” ~“Yes. Igain some relief to my feelings. I don’t like to see Pinkerton get the inside track of us. There’s that fellow, Hogan, has just arrested a man ~. one of the gang. That’s the work we ought to be “That is so!" admitted Jack Laide, epee “He is to have a hearing this morning, e must drop ‘round and take a squint at the evidence. I’ve a no- tion there’s nothing in it.” _ “ Hogan is no fool,” averred Will. “He does not it blind. How about that boy you invested ten dol- in? Looks as if he had sold you.” “Maybe he has. Time will tell,’ responded Jack, bi 5-7 his oye Seon I 4" he don’t go blowing about the streets how he has humbugged a brace of Uncle Sam’s detec- That would be too pleasant.” '_“Nary a blow,” came from a youthful voice at the open door. The officers turned quickly to see the small figure of Dick Darling, who entered the room with the most free-and-easy air imaginable. He was dressed much more sprucely than when ee coe Sen last, but there was same ex- ace. pression on , **Been investin’,”’ he ——. turning himself ‘around with a proud air for theirinspection. ‘‘ How’s iat for an out-and-outer rig?” *Rich and ,”” pronounced Jack, admiring the figure of the boy much more than his at- 5 fiver done it all! I’m gare ona bargain,’’ and Dick at’ once installed himself in a chair, which he up on its two hind legs. Bh Lf gees have you done to earn your money ‘ cried Frazer. iy ow you want to git clean to the bottom of the ‘box afore I’ve ope the lid. Ain’t got much in be box yit, anyhow. And that little I’m a-spreadin’ ow a] “T suppose you will spread it out very thin.” *‘Allers try to make my butter cover my bread. § nog you’ve heerd what Ned Hogan’s gone and “ (6) es. ” bs he’s struck ile,’ continued Dick. ‘‘ Don’t _ run that way in my head. Spencer’s one of my particular friends. Hedon’t know no more ‘bout counterfeits than a cow knows ‘bout ’rithmetic.”’ ‘* What is the evidence against him?” asked Jack, curiously. “ They’ve found a bunch of counterfeits in one of his drawers. That looks blue; only it’s too aot A in ‘the season fur blue birds. There’s some de iltry back of it all. They’ve been put there by somebody that's down on him. And the chap that put them there, that’s the chap we want.” two officers were looking with deeply-inter- ested eyes at Dick as he slowly laid out this pro- gramme of his opinions. - “he boy may be right,” admitted Will. “ We Detective Dick. must be at this hearing, Jack, and if it looks as he says, the next thing will be to spy out Spencer’s enemies.”’ ‘Let Dick unload his bag first,’ answered Jack. ‘*He knows more yet.” **Come round here on biz,’’ declared Dick, impor- tantly. ‘ Firstly, want you to write me a letter.” * Certainly, Dick, we will do that.” “Tain’t ‘cause 1 can’t do it myself. But some- how I ain’t extra at flingin’ the pen. And then my spellin’ ain’t jist ‘cording to Webster. Now I want this in one of your swi *, cavortin’ business hands, so the chap that gits it'll think he’s got a million- dollar job, and will let hisself loose on an answer.” All right,” declared Jack, laughing, as he seated himself at a table and drew up pens and paper. a in. I'll make adocument you may be proud rs) , ‘Qorreck! That’s what I’m arter! Jist pull out this way :— Got down Philadelfy? And the date?” ‘* And Dear Sir?” “Dear Sir,” said Jack, writing. ‘‘Hold your hosses there a minit,” and Dick scratched his head. ‘‘ Want to get hold of the butt- end of my idears. Let’s see—a million-dollar job, and half to the lawyer? No. That’s too thin.” **T should call that too thick.” “S’pose you strike it somehow this way. You kin putin the fancy work yourself, I'll jist lay out the rough stock.” “Allright. I'll do the poetry.” Sure you got down Dear Sir?” ¢ ead. That’s part of the fancy work.” “Well, then. ‘I’ve got a big contrack for a law- ier which I think is ‘bout nee size and weight.’ be you'd best say, ‘rushin’ big contrack.’”’ “We won't rush anything,’ demurred Jack, waiting for a new paragraph, “Slide on then. ‘There’s "bout a hundred thou- sand in it, and fine pickin’sfor a lawyer. If you’re in the market for sich a job, let’s hear from you in- stanter, if not sooner. ’Point an interview.’’ Got that in shape?” ** Yes, with amendments.” “ Well, let me see what next. Oh! yes. I’ve got it. ‘Yours ’spectfully, Richard Darling.’ ” “That's short and sweet.” “All I want's ananswer. Calkerlate that'll wake “But what under heaven are you after?’ de- manded Will Frazer. “After a divvy! Got my eye onsome fun. Bet I stir up things kinder lively afore I’m through! Can’t blow on my game jist yet.” “But what directions shall I give your legal friend to write to?” asked Jack. “ Philadelfy’s enough. IfI guy him my mansion on Walnut street, he mought call, and that ain’t in the game. Want an answer by mail.” ‘*But how are you going to get it? Philadelphia is a sizable Risce, with a good meny people in it.” ‘* Why, bless your eyes,”’ reto Dick, laughing, “ all the letter-carriers know me likebeans. Carry ona ’stensive cor’spondence, I do! Of’en git letters from Ching and and sich like fureign parts. Can’t go ‘long the streets without them droppin’ cor’spondence into my hands,” “Your business must be a good thing for the post- ce. “Reckon "tain’t bad. Takes asmall fortun’ to keep me in stamps.” “Oh, you are a writer too, then, as well asa re- cipient of letters?” . ‘Yes; rattle Fey ot amazin’. That ; grease my elbows square my: ‘or work, toe Spe K nothin’ of vheagewens o . pg much at puttin’ poe an utin’ though. That’s why I come to ou ~ .“* How this be ted?” asked Jack, curious- ly, as he closed and sealed the envelope. ‘Pass it over; I'll ’tend to that part of the job. Allers do my own finishin’, you see. Don’t like to put ag to no more trouble.’ “Tt’s no trouble at all.” ‘Feared it is,’’ said Dick, putting the undirected paged in his pocket. “ Won’t ax you todo no more now. It was very evident he did not intend that they should know the destination of his epistle, “ Hope you don’t think I’ve been ne ors money under false pretenses?” seating him coolly on a corner of the table. “ T don’t see that you’ve done much to earn it yet,” answered Will Frazer. ‘Well, then, I'll put you on ten dollars’ worth of a lay. There’s a chap as keeps an old clo’ store on South street, whic keepin’ an eye on.” “For what purpose?” “ That’s jist what I don’t know; but I’ve a lively noshin that there’s a screw loose ’bout that ’spec ind’ vidual.” “ Who is he?” “* Tt’s Solomon sly, or old Sol, as I generally call the pao cove. He hangs out at 479 South. lis mix- tures, sich as trowsers, shoes, aud hair-pins. Wants watchin’ mighty bad.’ “Then why don’t you 7/ch him?” asked Jack. “Got other biz on hand,’? was Dick’s po eae “Can't split myself and be in two places at wonst. Spottin’ higher e,Z am. But, while a feller’s ween the eagles, the night-hawks can’t be left out. “Then you choose to watch the eagles, and leave us the hawks?” “* Jist so,” declared Dick, independently. ‘ Don’t find eagles for other folks’ Net thy You’ve got a dozen eyes to my two, and Sol Sly wants watchin’. That’s the long and the skort of it. when there mought be some fun in Give you ten dollars’ worth. If you don’t choose to go for it, don’t say I ain’t paid my debts. Guess I'll go and see Ned ogan. And cramming his hat close down on his head Dick made a bee-line for the door, asif he had said his last, and did not care to waste words. “Hold hard, there, you blasted cece aekioned, stiff-headed, young villain!” cried ack, laughing. “You're the most mysterious reprobate I ever ran. across. Is there any game in this Sly v “Yes; deep game, if I ain’t sold,” answered Dick from the door. “Very well; we will shadow him.” “All O. K. Don’t let a skeeter by without the ass-word. Reckon you'll strike ile. Good-day. ortant bizness calls, and I must obey.” And Dick stalked from the room, leaving the two officers choking with laughter. It was not a half-hour Before he had managed to get his letter directed by some disinterested indi- vidual, with a handwriting rather an improvement on his own. It was directed to: Mr. ANDREW WILLIAMSON, Fourth and Walnut sts., City. Dick haunted the post-office the next day, asking a dozen times if there was any letter for Mr. Richard Dering. Just before night it came—a voluminous legal ep- velope. Dick read the direction eagerly, then deposited the epistle in some inside pocket with an air of supneine satisfaction, and strutted, dignifiedly, out into the full human tide of Chestnut street. CHAPTER X. A SOCIAL GLASS. THE reader must accompany us next up the line of the wharves on the Delaware, with their close array of vessels of all shapes and sizes, from an oyster boat to a huge ship in the India line, from a steam fig & an ocean steamer. ’ ar Sipe way along the line of open stores devoted to truck in all its branches, We finally reach the vicinity of Poplar street wharf, in the wake of Mr. Ned Hogan, who is walking leisurely along, en- joying his meerschaum and the spring air, At the wharf in question lies 4 trim little two- master, a vessel with the tall spars and sharp build of a yacht. She seems to have seen some service and looks the trimness and neatness which should be the constituents of a well-kept pg i boat. Hogan walked quietly'down to the wharf, and in- spected her with the eye of a sailor. On her stern, in plain letters, was the name mally. “That's the craft,” he said to himself, as he ap- proached the edge of the wharf overlooking the vessel. “A neat boat,” he added, aloud, leaning easily against a post, and speaking to a man On board. ‘Hard to beat,” answered the man, 4 short, thin- rson, with reddish hair. “Calculate she ought to be a goer,” con- tinued Ned, blowing a cloud of smoke to windward. “You can wager your bottom dollar on that,” an- swered the man in a pleased tone. ‘‘I fancy she can show her heels to any craft along these wharves.” ‘*Maybe so. I have a keen eye for a good sailer, and she’s got the lines. Let’s have a closer look,” He sp lightly on board the boat, and com- menced the inspection. ‘Used as a yacht?” he asked. ‘More for pleasure than profit,” confessed the man, rising from the coil of rope on which he had been reclining. ‘If you want to see a well got up boat, I won’t mind showing you through her.’ “Much obliged,” Biewered Hogan, puffing away at his meerschaum. He followed his guide through the interior of the vessel, praising her appointments very liberally. ms e to get hold of a man thatis in love with a fine boat,” the red-haired person declared. “That’s me,” ejaculated Hogan. ‘‘ Much 5 oe Mr. Turner”’—he had got the man’s name. ‘Take something to drink.” “Tt isn’t just my hour.’’ “Oh, a drop won’t hurt. Comealong. The Molly don’t need a ship’s husband to look after her.” Mr. Turner needed no great persuasion, but yielded to the warm invitation of Ned. A tavern on the wharf soon enveloped them, and a glass of the most fie pererege cemented their new acquaintance. Neither of them seemed inclined to stop at one lass. Seating themselves at a table, they entered ea desultory conversation on all sorts of imper- sonal subjects, Ned tekingoere that their talk should. be well moistened with whisky. He was a thoroughly seasoned toper, and the liquor ected him no more than so much water. Not so with Turner. His head seemed quickly to feel the strong potations, and his tongue to grow loosened in consequence. in!” pressed Ned. “I don’t meet — quent e you every day, and ain’t in no u Fa) Very little persuasion was needed. Another glass of the liquor overcame the last scruples of Turner, and ath his tongue a suspiciously thick utterance. “ By the way,’ —n Hogan, as if the thought had just occurred to , * the Molly doesn’t belong here. I was here a week ago, but n Molly.”’ “Just put in a few days back,” rner assured “What port do you hail from, shipmate?” ‘* From New York last.” “Aha! Come up the river lately?” . “Oh! two or three days ago,” taking a sip at his glass t laaaill
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lal ‘ “ didn’t teteh itd back.” “¥ill up again, man, You are brushing the bot- oe , Good liquor tastes best from the top of the glass. “Guess I’ve took enough,” thickly. “Enough! » Well, nobody would call you greedy,” asserted Hogan, filling his companion's glass again. “ Just a thimbleful then.” “T’ve took quite a fancy to your boat,”’ Hogan said; “saw her last week and thought her a re; clipper.” Where did you see her last week?” asked Turner, uickly: : Nt At Chester,” in the most matter-of-fact tone, “Bet a shilling you didn’t!’ his tipsy companion spoke decidedly. “Yes, She was streaked red then. She’s changed her name since from Lucy to, Molly.” anes rose, holding in an uncertain way to his chair, ‘“T tell you it’s a sell you're trying to get on me,” and he now spoke angrily. “Why, bless your blue eyes, comrade,” said Hogan, laughing cheerily, “you don’t s'pose an old salt can be humbugged-by a streak of paint and a new name? I'd swear to the boat if I saw her in Hong Kong.” “You're a sharp individual—you are,” declared ‘Turner, with a tipsy hesitation. ‘And it’s all blamed stuff.” 7 ncan straight up from Chester?” asked Hogan, easily. 6 x ate a stop at the fishing-place, just above the town, to get some shad,”’ was tho reply, quite. for- getting that he was acknowledging Hogan's charge. “Stop there. sy: of ‘An hour maybe. Cap went ashore to see the une house, that lays back there in the mea- é ows.”’ } “A haunted house, eh?” with a new influx of: in- terest. ‘Wish I’d been thero, Did you go ashore to see it?” . ‘ 4: “T’d-gooner run ten miles t’other way,”’ with em- phasis. : b “An np ir in res ages house! That’s fun. Did © see the ghosts “ Didn't ony ghost tome. You're getting blamed anxious about ghosts.” tow * Don’t know anything Ilike better than ghoste;!’ declared Hogan, Pace pn acre “Got a reg: lar pas- sion for them. Did Cap take anything ashore, or bring anything aboard from the haun house?" ra a arcel, Lunch, I guess, seeing he “My eyes! that must have been fun; lunc with a party of ghosts;".and Hogan again laugh “T’'d like to have seen that.” ““Tdidn’t.say a blamed word about lunching with Ghosta,” half-growled' Turner, rising. ** Don’t think ‘N stay here to! have. ghosts rammed down m throat every time Tl open my mouth, rr He walked toward the door with an unsteady step, followed by Hogan. * a vt Reaching the street they noticed a well-dressed man upon the wharf,;who was pacing up and down with an impatient tread. ; He caught sight of Turner’s advance, and hastened ‘toward him, . “ This isa sweet picture of affairs,” he cried, an- griy. “Who has ‘charge of the boat’ now? p. Parker?) You have been drinking!” ; “Just wetting) my whistle with an old friend I knew down Sou explained Turner, nervously. “ Nothing'to hurt!” b Om) 4 boas “The smell of whisky is enough to hurt,” and the gentleman apie hotly, “And you have it in your legs as well as your head. me aboard at once, sir,” “That's just where I was going,” averred Turner, with tipsy dignity. He turnéd and waved his hand to Hogan in adie Winking at him/as if to assert his independence of this autocratic gentleman’s orders, Hogan stood and watched them as por stepped aboard the yacht! and disappeared in the’ cabin, the gentleman first casting a keon look around the ro ela id f hisky **Dunno whether I got pai or my w or not,” muttered Hogan, to: himself. Vonly broke the ice to-day.” It:don’t do to go too fast till you know your ground. Guess I'l stroll up this way again soon, and pay my respects to Mr. Joe Turner. He's vot extra talkative, drunk or sober.”’ He was about to turn down the street when his quick eye caught sight of something that arrested his attention... It was no more than a boy’s head which peered bi above the ‘top of a thick post = Ss wharf, the eyes fixed searchingly on the olly, Hogan looked at him a moment with a dawning smile. He then walked easily round and behind the lad, moving cautiously up toward him. The deeply- absorbed boy seemed to have no knowledge of his presence, e still stood, with his eyes on a level with the top of the post, when Hogan got near enough to him to give him a hearty slap on the shoulder, saying: “Hey, Dick! Catching musketoes? waiting fora bite?” “I don’t know as lam cheating Ned Hogan outer any of his,” replied Dick, without a sign of sur prise, or a movement of his head. “Tf might as well: have stirred up the post with my fingers,” muttered Hogan. ‘* You saw me, you Frozue?” : “Of course. But you weren’t my game.” “Well, [ll swear iP he ain't a detective in grain,” announced Hogan, admiringly. ‘What is your lay gow, Dick?” “You seen that man with old red-head?” yh ‘tainly I did.”’ * Wodl he’s my oyster.” Or maybe a a Detective Dick. “ Have 78 been moling after him?" asked Hoga with great amusement. ‘* You've got enough m on the end of your nose to plant potatoes in,” ‘*Was layin’ low, and keepin’ shady,’’ explained Dick, polishing the angen in question with the back of his hand, “I was once by that chap, Had my eye-teeth cut then. he flings me ag’in you kin buy me cheap.” “Who is he, Dick?” asked Hogan, curiously. “That’s what I want to know,’’ av Dick. ** He’s one of your high-toned coves. 1'm arter him like a chimley-swaller arter a fly. You git! You'ro too big and clumsy for this lay. Been 'vestigatin’ red-head, ain’t your” “A ti , e.”’ “Hit any a me Only found that the Lucy stopped at the fisheries above Chester, and the captain went. ashore to visit a haunted house there, There’s nothing in that. Ghosts ain't our game," “Dunno,"’ murmured Dick, dubiously. ‘ There's gpacts sometimes that wear whole skins. Now git, ogan. Your room's better than your comp’n, jist pow, 7 I'm goin’ to sarcumvent that pair, or bu'st a- in’.”’ .“\ Bring word what luck you have,” ordered Hogan, walking away. “Ay, ay, lll post you/ Fur as Isee fit,” was his eub-1 08a, answer. A minute afterward the gentleman looked out from the cabin door. There was nothing visible with more life than the post which had concealed. Dick, except the distant form of Ned Hogan, now rapidly walking away. Dick was ensconced behind another post near the edge of the wharf. He held in his hand the letter he .had-received from Mr. Williamson, .He next produced the envelope of which he took such fre- quent inspection, It was addressed to “Mr. Epwarp Hoaan, Fifth and Race vy, Se He laid the two envelopes together and examined them sloety Finally* they went ' together into his pockets, as he said, with a satisfied air: ° “Tl bet. my new suit ’gainst a doll-baby’s spring hat that the same man writ them both: Tryin’ to his writin’ but writin’ ain’t easy changed. If I ain't gallopin’ on aclean track then nobody never sold peanuts for a livin’.” : Dick’s next evolutions were of the stealthiest char- acter. Liha pi with cat-like movement to the edge of the wharf he clambered be over the wharf- log and Jet himself down the ve side as’ easily and noiselessly as if he had been on level ground. One of the cabin windows of the Molly, was open, and this’ was eS Oro point ‘By som batic system of and w ta him on the stern’ of the Molly, cliiging to the such a way that rudder- with a death-grip, aud his oval fist reached to the bottom of the open win- ow, Lifting himself a little with both hands he got one glimpse of the interior of thé cabin, the most im- portant feature of whith was the forms ‘of the two men seated on’each’side of a ‘centet table, and en- in conversation, Dick let himself down again, &' out of siglit, but with every ‘nerve strained to hear. * Mind= our eyes now, Williamson: and ‘brick- If you talk too much some chap of my size mought git a ring in your nose."’ CHAPTER XI. MOTHER, AND DAUGHTER. We have seen the parlor of Mr. Andrews’ resi- dence, on the occasion of Mr. Williamson's some- what. curt dismissal. We will now betake ourselves to the sitting-room of the same mansion. It isan elegantly appointed apartment, furnished in the richest. taste: Several valuable . pictures adorn the walls, and about the room are scattered costly articles of ornament. It bas altogether that home-like aspect of a room whose. adornment has grown out of the needs and tastes of its inmates, A deep bay window occupies. the lower end of the room, «Ane seated in an easy-chair, her feet rest- ing on atall footstool, reclines a matronly lady. She has once been very pretty, and still wears much of her good looks, khong age has broadened the lines of her face, and added a decided look of worldly wisdom, , posite her sits, in a smal) chair, her arm resting on the sill of the open wiudow, a young lady, whose beautiful face seems a spirituel copy o matron. They are really mother and daughter— Mrs, Andrews and her daughter Helen. Mrs. Andrews plays leisurely with her fan, for the day is warm for mid-April, and the sun bathes the fade of the window in fervent light. “ Then you didas I wished?" remarked the mother. “You simply dismissed him, without entering into reasons or argument?” “Yes, mother,” with a weary expression; ‘and I was never. so thoroughly diSgusted with myself in my life before."’ : Ht 4 so? The dismissal of a music-teacher is not such a vital matter.” “T don’t know,” returned Helen, with a quick movement of impatience. ‘I mismanaged it, suppose. I know [I must have made it look as if I had some personal objection to him. He seemed much hurt.” “Oh, that. matters very little,” replied Mrs. An- drews. ‘That will easily mend; he can cure his wounds with a new scholar.” “T am afraid a bost of new scholars will not have that effect,’ and Helen rested her head wearily on the window-sill. The sunlight struck her soft brown hair, and ” that of the | ———- 7. Lng ta about it like an asureole of brigh mother dropped her fan to look admiringly at her. “Do you know, clan, that sou are gro Yhore and more beautiful?” she d, with the air an artist. ‘‘I yish that sunlight effect could o -§ head, with a gleam as if it had imprisoned some of the sunlight. . “You cannot help — beautiful, my dear,” added her mother. “But those impatient move- ments are never very graceful.” p “ Forgive me," murmured Helen; “I did not mean to annoy you. But 1 cannot help feeling troubled and.out of sorts with myself just now." . “Tfear your music lessons were allowed to go on peer ang long,” averred Mrs. Andrews, using her fan rapidly. ; ails R y so? No one can object to him a a teacher,” aia “You have been. growing entirely too much infer ested inhim. Such a person should be considered a teacher only—nothing more. . I would not have daughter stoop to waste a second thought on any one so far below her in station.” pars “ He is a gentleman,” declared Helen, proudly, “T fear I have not always impressed him as a ba ‘*t This is ridiculous, child, Asif it was of the, importance what he chose to think. 1 am glad thas your ae ye Be bin hes, been beoeek oft, A man not only o lower classes, but see without known father or mother.” BENE “Who told you that?” demanded Helen, with s That. is ek flush upon her face. “ t the reason, peers that I had to give him up? But I know who ou."" oa A There was a glitter in the young lady’s eyes, and her lips were closely shut. Men. “Tt does. not matter who told me,” answered her ora? Aaa dignity. ‘The only question is as to ruth.” are ‘Excuse me, mother; that, is not the question all. Ido not court social d nor do I fear it, if justice and the ope of oman $ come in conflick 6 which has ‘thus ou should d Mrs, An Pweg more cosily in. her chair, and wa the fan with a long, indolent sweep, *‘There’s n more plebeian; and I'really object to any an discussion on the subject of a mere music teacher.” “A mere man!" reto Helen, with some psar- “Yet it is not he who excited me, but our blue-blooded Mr. Williamson. The essence of - ity that runs in the veins of our social no’ ‘ certainly not be tainted with such low vices as ess." . and A efuln: wr * “Te it is the truth I can sée no crime in telling it,” decided Mrs. Andrews, a little roused, |. ie OE “Truth may be made a vice if told with a spitefal pu ae Se ’ Ave ‘You cling to that word Helen, What SO THLaB Dou guint Wil e8 ee “Whatever ‘peasons,) the fact ren bi sponded Helen, with an excited accent. “ I spise him for it! It matters. nothing to me the entree to the best society and the other not. Whatever fortune may have done for them, | fact remains that Mr, Spencer has been born a gen’ man, and Mr, Williamson not,” . “You are assuming too much now, Helen.” * “Tam assuming nothing, Suppose it all be true that Williamson says—nay, all that he implies—even then the stubborn fact remains that his base lowers him far more, than his birth can Ps lower Mr. Spencer, All that cant. of the invisi virtue of aristocratic birth is dying out in modern society. Men are learning to take their neighbors for what they are, not what some absurd social code declares them.”’ ° ' The young lady’s voice was a little warm, and she spoke with much energy of accent, “Well, you are improving, Helen,” declared’ her mother, sarcastically, “I think it’ was high time that Ichanged your associations. Yet people gen- erally, even in these democratic days, would hard! care to mix with gentlemen born out of lawful wed- lock—people in our set, I mean.” “I fear that if people in our set knew all, they would be still less inclined to associate with Mr. Spencer.” As.she spoke Helen had risen and stood, resting one hand on the chair back, her face and the whole pene of her body seeming full of indignant scorn of he verdict of *‘ our set."’ Mrs. Andrews lifted her long lashes, indolently, and rested her eyes for a moment in admiration upon the graceful pose of her daughter, full of an unconscious charm that would have stirred the soul of an artist to its depths, “Knew all?” “Yes,’’somewhat curtly. abete is ty then, fo know tS . 4 uppose I tell you,” and now Helen ck- ly, and with repressed excitement, ** thas this oe man has sinned beyond redemptfon—in making an unscrupulous enemy.” “What can you mean?” was the indolent answer. “T mean that Harry Spencer has been arrested— this very day—in my presence. Arrested for no less a crime than being an accomplice of counterfeiters. ‘The proof was found in his house.” oe ee a ——_— ~~ — sees oe eee ee oe ee ee
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oO =e AE a Se 10° “Why, girl, you take my breath!” exclaimed Mrs. Andrews, starting up from her reclining pos- ture, Kad youstill d fend him? Did expect yous efen m ou any- thing better from one of his sort?’’ * “T still defend him!” said Helen, seeming to gain the calmness which hermother had lost. ‘I believe —I know that he is innocent. Therefore I defend him. Justice shall be done. He shall be freed from this false charge. And he loses nothing in my esti- mation, because he is accused of a crime which he mever committed.” “The proofs found in his own house? What evi- ence fe your girlish belief against that? You are let- a acl dish imagination run away with you now, en.” “I know he is the victim of some base plot! I ges +e peldagl desert him while I believe him inno- een “Do you remember about whom you are talking, Helen, or the character of his relations with you?’ asked her mother, with much dignity of manner. “This is only your music-teacher; not your friend and associate. And he seems to have effectually put a bar to any further lessons—unless, indeed, you should desire to take them in his prison cell.” Her voice had grown very sarcastic, “There will be no need of that,” Helen returned, etly. “And why not? I think he will hardly get bail on such a charge.” “There are ne circumstances in his favor, mother. I am satisfied that the judge will accept bail for him,” ; “Tt must be some heavy amount, then. And who oo a th ee friend who will risk much on his hon- “The friend is found. Ihave directed Mr. Widdin to see that he obtains bail, on the security of my private inheritance.” ~ Why, child, are you mad?” cried Mrs. Andrews, hotly. But this is ridiculous. A woman cannot go nk my offer, with power of attorney in Mr, Widdin’s hands, will be accepted,” replied Helen. “T think, indeed, that Mr. Spencer is already free, Thave no fears of his avoiding a trial.” But for you to take such an action! Without consulting me or your father!” exclaimed the ex- cited and agitated woman. ‘Excuse me, mother, I did consult with father. He quite agreed with me. I had no time to see you. knew, of course, that you would not agree to what I had determined on doing.” “Tt was just like your father!” cried Mrs, An- drews, turning her tide of anger from her resolute daughter to the absent husband. “He is full of all sorts, gf radical and nonsensical ideas, and he has infected you with the same plebeian proclivities.”’ Mrs. Andrews hurried from the room, not dari to trust herself further under her angry excitement. “T knew there must be a scene with mother,” Ppamues Helen, sadly. “I am glad the worst of over. CHAPTER XIL Bur what of Di o Thom we lett clinging 60° ti w of Dick, whom we e Tater vw Sac nay ee adie d his acute . y was very quick o: » aD acu senses were strained to not miss a word of the im- rtant conversation which he hoped to overhear. et for the first five minutes the voices of the two meh in the cabin were pitched in too low a key for him to catch a connected sentence. his position so as to get his right foot on one of rudder-irons, Dick gained a more com- fortable location, and one that brought his ear nearer to the open window. .The voices of the two men, also, w uncon- scio' louder as they proceeded with their conver- r’s half-tipsy condition interfering with abural his na cautiousness, “Struck his fancy from the start; I could see that,” he said, decidedly, “I don’t think it was so much the money—though there’s mighty few men to whom a pile ain’t an object.” “What was it, then?”’ spoke the deeper tones of Mr. Williamson. “The mystery. You see, he’s been troubled at heart about who his father and mother were. Had a fear of someth' grace too, Y, 83 soon as I broached the matter, his eyes lit up like two stars on a dark sky.” ‘“We will dispense with the poetical part of the subject,” put in Mr. Williamson, coldly. ‘Did you let out anything about the location of the property, or the residence or condition of his nts?’ a Certainly; told the city they lived in, and all “I should be very little surprised if you did. Es- pecially if you let anybody pour liquor into you, as “Told him they lived in New Ori and were French creoles,” protested Turner. ‘ Guess that’s far enough off the track. Told him it was out of the ure, to say a word more till I was sure he was eson.” - “*And asked him for remembrances of his in- ranar? And relics, if he had any?’ inquired Wil- iamson. “Now it’s comin’,” thought Dick. “If Imissa word now, I’d be let go my holt, and drown myself for an idyot. Never see’d anything so well primed as I’ve got them.” His face b ened with a silent laughter that was full of intense ies of the situation. “He let it out freely enough,” replied Turner. “Didn’t seem to smell a mouse anywhere. He re- Detective Dick. members well a la stone house, with extensive rrounds around it. It was neither city nor country or there were numbers of houses near, with broa pleasure-grounds around each.” ‘* What was the house like?” **That he could not well describe. It was some- be of the old-fashioned style, with stone out- buildings.”’ “ Jist sol!” thought Dick, noting these details in his memory. “Dig in, my cove. I’m a-takin’ it “Had he any further recollections?” “Yes. Of a beautiful lady, dressed in blue silk, and wearing a very bright stone in hercollar. There was also atall, handsome gentleman, who fondled and made much of him.” “ That's down, brick-top,” was Dick’s mental com- ment. ‘Slide ahead.” i hing more?” ‘Nothing that he could recall. His next recollec- tion is of being very roughly used, and forced to beg on the streets in Cys Trai Mebane an old crone, who beat him when he failed to bring home money.” “Tt will be important to learn the name and resi- dence of that crone,” asserted Williamson. ‘“ Also her description. Did he have any remembrance of this bei Boston?” “No. @ woman must have brought him on to Foiedee She probably stole the child for the is fine clothes, and with the purpose of gicing her in her begging operations, and came to Philadelphia to avoid detection.” “Any fool mought see that,” muttered Dick. s Bostinw, ae Won't do to forgit Bosting.” ** And now as to relics of his childhood,” suggested Williamson. ‘These will be most important.’ “ Sartain sure they will,” thought ick. “ Pile in, redhead; let’s have your relicks.”’ “His clothes were probably sold be Beice crone who stole him,’’ Turner went on. “ All he had left be- pcm to his youth was a bronze medal, and a curi- ously-knit chain attached to it. This he remembers to have had in his childhood.” “Good! We must have that medal.” “TI expect to see him again,’ declared Turner. “You know of his being arrested on a charge of counterfeiting, and that the alderman has put him under heavy ,” “He should have put him in prison,’ declared Williamson, harshly. ‘‘He must have been a fool to accept bail on sush a charge. You must see Spencer at once, and try and learn where he keeps the medal and chain.” “Twill hunt him up to-day, But understand, I cannot do any pickpoc et or burglar work.” “You can't!’ thought the listener, ‘‘ You’re mean ee to steal green mons and sell them for cots. ‘ Get it from him by any lie you can manufacture. If he won't take, find where he keeps it. I am bound to have the Milton estate, and won't be stopped by any slight difficulty.” Going to play e lost heir?’ asked Turner. “ His recollections will be of no use if somebody else has them in advance of him. Probe him again on that subject; he pay. Facet! some new ts. And the medal will clinch the business. e old woman who stole him will swear black is white if I instruct her to.”’ “*T see,” confessed Turner. “You're a blamed shrewd one. The old lady Milton will swallow it all as easy as a cat swallows milk, What a precious son PA will make.” “1? said Williamson, quickly. ‘“‘No, no, my terni is too well known. I have my man, thoug’ we unpleasant. He In doing so his hands slipped, and—the parties in the cabin were suddenly startled by a heavy splash in the water. Turner ran to the cabin window, and looked out. There was not visible, though a circle of wave- rings was spreading in the water from the rudder post outward. Williamson, est their con- versation should have been overheard, ran on deck and looked warily into the water around the boat. But there was no object to be seen, and the bag, wavelets was ray dying out. “It is strange,” he said. ‘Something must have fallen from the wharf. Though I cannot see how.” “Tt must have been a fish jumped,” suggested Turner, appearing on deck. “Wish of that size don’t swim in the docks,” said Williamson, incredulously. “But whatever itis it has gone to the bottom, so we need not care much, Attend to that matter instantly, Turner, and re- port to me at once. And mind, let us have no more ppling while this a is in hand.” “T don’t think any fresh water sailor, or salt water either, for that matter, will make a fool of me again “Don’t forget that,” said Williamson, as he left the vessel, an walked briskly up the wharf. “ That splash was blamed queer,” growled Turner, looking again reflectively into the water. He shook his head doubtfully as he turned and went below. At the same moment, from behind a small coast- ing smack that occupied the he oe side of the dock, there apreared a grinning boy’s face, washed clean of the dirt it had lately gathered while rooting behind the post. “Tt’s jist the biggest fish that you ever see’d,”’ said the boy, with a hearty laugh. “ Ought to flung your line over. Mought have cotched him. Bless your eyes, Williamson, there ain’t a fish in the Delaware kin swim under water better nor Dick Darling.” Dick crawled up the wharf and stood in the sun- light on the top of the wharf log, the water dripping from him as from a drowned rat. ‘*Reckon I’ve guv my new clothes a seasonin’,’’ he said, trying to squeeze some of the superabundant water out of them. ‘“ Don’t keer how soon it rains now. Can’t spile my fixin’s.” He got out of that locality, and laid himself out in the sun to dry in a boar rae not far distant, re- moving and spreading out outer garments till — was little left but his bare skin for the sun to act on. But, we must seep over a space of time, and pre- sent Dick, thoroughly dried, renovated, and remark- “ well washed—for him, in a different locality. It is near the evening of the same day, and in the region of Fourth and Walnut, that we again take u our water-rat, tay Sane Bee tre with his eyes turne tow: the door of the building containing Mr. Williamson’s office, longed. with An express wagon, lo goods, stops in front of the door, and Dick hurries over to that side of the street, The expressman fumbles awhile among his parcels, and then takes out a small, oblong t= 8. “ Here, boy, hold this a minute,” he to Dick, handing him the package, while he extricates him: self from his constrained position. Dick takes instant opportunity to read its address: “ ANDREW WILLIAMSON, Fourth and Walnut Sts., Philadelphia.” On the opposite side was the broad card of the Adams Express Co., dated at Chester, Pa., the pre- vious day. “That will do, my lad,” said the expressiman, cheerily, as he took the package. ‘Ask me for a sugar plum the next time you see me,” “If you only knowed what a sugar plum you’d guv me now!”’ thought Dick, as he walked easily away. ‘Guess I’ve done my day’s work.” But his day’s work was not yet performed. He had not gone any great distance on his homeward journey ere he formed a new resolution, ** Allers best-to strike while the iron’s hot,”’ he de- clared. ‘ Don’t do to leave bizness like this opeu if you don’t want it to spile. Guess I’d best go see my detectives and sort out some work for them." Dick laughed silently as a comical thought oc- curred to him, ** Bet there ain't mene customers in these diggin’s keeps as fine a pack of private detectives as Dick Darling. And the beauty of it is, they think they’re using me. That’s the gayest sell out.” He continued his silent enjoyment of the thought as he made his way toward the domicil of Ned aoe “Tl guv ore the Chester job, ’s lon t a look-out there. The other chaps kin work e Bosting lay. Guess that’s a fair divide of the ‘sponsibility. Gettin’ too much work on my shoul- ders fur one boy to put through without help.” He found Hogan at home, seated behind his ever- lasting meerschaum, which he was wasting his life in efforts to color. At least his persistent application seemed to indicate that as his ie “Got five minutes fer you,” announ ren] with an air of great importance, as he deposi himself in the nearest chair. ‘Want you to write as he’s a letter in double quick.” * 1” assented Hogan, enjo ing what seem- ed to strike him as a good Joke, “What is it to be? e drew pen, ink and paper from the drawer] of d “Want you to write to your watch-dog, Harris, at Chester, I'll jist guy you the p’ints. You kin shape them. Andrew Williamson, of this big town, jist got a pateignens Chester by Adams Express. ust have mn sent yisterday or this mornin’. Now I want Harris to find out all he kin *bout that package; who sent it, what kind of a cove he was, where he hails from, or any particulars he kin stir up. Do you take it in?” iS thes averred Hogan. ‘ Are you in earnest?” “Solid; nothing else now.” “ Here goes then.” Hogan proceeded to write as directed by Dick, folding and sealing the letter. “ And now, what the blazes is it all about?” he de- manded, ho! the letter in his hand... ‘‘ Have yov trod into any lark’s nest?” *Guv me the letter,” was Dick’s only reply. “IP poe *Tain’t safe to answer your question yet. ant to hear from Harris fust. Mought be barkin’ up the wrong tree.” ick took his departure, hastening to the nearest a to deposit his letter. “So much fur Be ame alley,” helaughed. “ And if Ned Hogan thinks I’m goin’ to sell out to him he dunno where I got my eddication. Ain’td urtaters for no sich chaps as him to eat. utter my own biscuit.” And Dick, with much self-importance, made his way toward the hotel patronized by the government detectives. in’ u uess I’ CHAPTER Xi. DICK AND HIS DETECTIVES. Dick had the same luck with the government officials as he had had with Ned Hogan, finding them both at home. They were seated at their table, busily engaged in writing, when Dick swaggered into the room, dis- ; peusing with the formality of a knock. ————— :
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Detective Dick. 11 *“You see, I'm allers at home ’mong my friends,” he announted. ‘Don’t ax me to take a cheer. That mought interfere with the freedom of the citi- zen, you know,’’ He helped himself to a chair with all the freedom possible as he spoke. ‘Go on with 2 1 aaa Don’t mind me. My bizness kin wait,” “T swear if I think you’ll ever die of modesty,” . eried Will Frazer. ‘ Out with | your business, for we've no time for nonsense now. “ All right!’ and Dick, unabashed, drew his chair up to the table, Mma dager dockyments out of sight. My eyes gits unruly sometimes, and tumble into seeing things that’s none of their affairs, Want you to lay out on another letter.” “Why, you are death on letters, Dick,”’ declared Jack Bounce. ‘‘ You do seem to keep up an exten- sive correspondence. What is it about now?” “ Know an body in Bosting? Any guv’nors, per- licemen, or sich?’ ““Where?”’ asked Jack. “In Bosting. The place where all the smart peo- le cum from. That little down-last villain that’s ke me, won't never die of modesty.” “Oh! Boston, you mean.” “* And didn’t I say Bosting? Don’t know as I of’en say what I don’t mean.” ‘I know some of the Bostonian officers," admitted Frazer, “if that will satisfy you.” “That's clever,” and Dick spread himself for a serious job of dictation. “Write to the smartest ankee you know as follows:—I want him or her, whichsoever it is, to hunt up a fam'ly in Bosting, that calls itself Milton.” “Very well. What is the first name?” “Jist say Milton, and you'll say all I know. Twenty years 860, or thereaway, this fam’ly dwelt somewhere in the outsquirts of Bosting, in an old- fashioned stone house. It had grounds around it, and all the houses in sight had grounds, They seemed somehow to run to grounds.’ “Allright. Goon.” “This fam'ly consisted of a handsome daddy and a beautiful mammy, and a neat little toad of a boy, jist turned of bein‘ a baby. Well, the boy was stole, and has never been hearn tell of since, though they’ve wasted enough cash in advertisements to keep up a fust-class dry-goods store, and offered mints of money in rewards, and the daddy’s grown old and pegged out, and the mammy’s growin’ old and peggin’ out. Got the idear of all that?” “Ts it a five-cent nevel you are composing now?” asked Jack Bounce, laughing at Dick's grandilo- quent manner. “True as gospel, every word I've spoke. There's money in it, an know where to lay my finger on the boy, that’s growed up to be a handsome young man, the picture of his daddy. And there’s chaps tryin’ to work a traverse, and play the lost son found and throw him outin the cold. You see I’m “Your novel is making good headway, anyhow,” was Jack’s laughing comment, “Never you mind. Put it all down, and guv me the letter to post. If your Yankee comes up to the scratch like a man, you kin bet there'll be fun,” Jack wrote the letter to Dick’s satisfaction, ad- creased it as directed by Frazer, and gave it to the to sy: ays that correct?” he asked of the boy. “Right to the bull’s-eye. Must be goin’. Any news since I see’d you last? ” “Only the arrest of Spencer, with a batch of a new issue of counterfeits in his house.” “Yes. That's the out-and-outerest se. Know Harry Spencer a bit too well to swaller that. What's more, I’ve got a notion of the cove as put up the job on him, ere igs he? In Moya?” “No. He is out on bail.” **Clever!’’ exclaimed Dick. ‘‘ These chaps best be keerful they don’t wake up Dick Darling. If they do, pect be 'tarnal ructions. Anything from Sol 8 “We have a deep shadow on him,” answered Jack. “Iam of the notion that that long nose of yours has smelt out something there. He has more customers than come to buy clothes.” ‘I knowed it!’ declared Dick, gag pagan ds “Watch them. Watch them all. It’sa big ring mere got ty sarcumvent. Catch him shovin’ any o 6 queer?”’ “Yes. He tried to pass one of the new counter- fa, — back bo San, Sd he overflowed with apologies and explanations. ‘He should have been arrested,"’ averred Will. “Not yet,” said Dick, tively. ‘I don't b’lieve in pullin’ up my fish with a hook and line, when there’s a chance to sweep them all var one haul, in adrag-net. Keep shady till all the fish git in our pond. Then pull in your net.” “Good advice, Dick,” and Jack slapped him heartily on the shoulder, “You are a born detec- tive, and shrewder than half the force. You oer, you eater & job was put up on Spencer, who “That’s what I think. "Tain’t what I know," was Dick’s cautious reply. “ Who is your man?” The chap you're watchin’ on South street; Mr. Solomon Sly. Mind, I don’t know this. And I'd give Saati cust errss Gey act eee hak rot the wa: a chicken-coo’ a to sneak back ag’in."” = zs - » “And what follows?” “That Sol- will have more bizness in Harry Spencer’s house. d soon, too, if I ain’t off my opss. ae him like a he fob sure as you live, ere’s fo yor. | up another job on Spencer. * and if be cheel try it?” “Snatch him, jist as you’d snatch the last cold ‘tater on the plate. S’arch him, and salt down his valuables. Don't leave nothing cur’us "bout him,” “ And if he should have nothing?” “* Beg his pardon, and let him slide, He'll only be like a pigeon, with a string to his leg. He won't fly out of sight. I must be gettin’ now, gents. Fear wpe git cold waitin’, and never could digest cold vittels.” And Dick walked out of the room with an air as if he carried a separate world on each shoulder. CHAPTER XIV. RECOLLECTIONS OF CHILDHOOD, Harry Spencer walked along with his head down and a deeply troubled look upon his face. “It seems as if the sky had suddenly fallen out of my world. Everything was so bright and promising, and now misfortunes seem treading in each other's footsteps. If I could but lay my hand on this hidden and silent enemy who is working in the dark against me,”’ He walked on refiectively. The street was little conanented. Evening was coming on with a damp, chill feelin the air. He drew his coat closer roun him, with a slight shudder. “Tam free, but how shallI ever escape the conse- quences of the coming trial? Those counterfeit notes—it was shrewd work of my enemy. I can see but one way clear. IfIcan but discover who has an object in injuring me, I may put the officers on the track of the true coun iters.”” The thought seemed to strike him asa good one. He considered it in all its bearings. “Was there any purpose in that grange note from Chester to get me out of the way? How did that man learn what he professes to know of my early life? If this be the act of my enemy, he must have known me since childhood. tno. There is more in it than I suppose. I have hopes that the mystery of my life may be soon unfolded, and I gain once more the blessing of my parents’ love, which has been stolen from me since childhood.” He paused for a moment, looking vacantly along the street. ““My enemy has worked in another direction,” he next mused. “ soma has come between me and Helen. Nothing of her own will, I know, for her action on my arrest was a sweet assurance that I had indeed won her love. It may have been some influence brought to bear eee her proud mother. If I could but meet Helen—if I could but learn—” He paused, fora figure which he had been noting for some time in the distance, now declared itself to his recollection. “Tt is hel’ he said. “The Chester man. This is an opportune meeting.” Joe Turner, for it was our red-haired acquain- tance, seemed to recognize Harry as quic ; “T was wishing to see you again,” the fellow de- glared) “but have not had time to call at your ouse,”” “You b ht me very interesting information sir,"”’ answe' Harry, “‘though rather vague and shadowy. I am anxious to learn more from you in relation to this matter,” “There are reasons why I should not tell you any more at present,” replied Turner. ‘I may be raising false hopes in your mind. I must first learn if the recollections you have given me with the facts; I have written to a legal friend in New Orleans to inquire, and if you can recall any other remembrances of your ancy, no matter how slight, they may be very important. What you have given me, so far, is too general.” “T have been trying to recollect,” responded Harry. “I can only recall one or two slight points. Iremember a fall I had in childhood from the arms of the lady I mentioned, and her great trouble in consequence; I also recollect a toy of which I was very fond. Tt was a little box, with a black figure in it, which sprung up on touching a spring; I remem- ber that the figure lost its nose. “These are important rns ae averred Tur- ner. “Any one might describe the house; but incidents are not so easily arrived at. You have no other relic than the one mentioned?” “That is all.” “ Tshould like to see it.” “T have it in my private desk at home, If you should call, I will show it to you.” “Thank you; I shall do so very soon. I must be SeTAiry proceeded dvrly in the opposite directs arry owly in the op mn. “I in too easy with him,” he mused. “I should make him tell what he knows. The world is so full of rogues that how do I know but that this is a scheme to get facts from me which he may use to his own ends?"’ He paused irresolutely, hal? inclined to return after the man. “But he knows all, and I know nothing. He has the advantage of me in that; and it is not so easy to force people, except it be to force them into being your foes. I shall have to wait and trust to his good intentions. And, oh! how my soul longs to know if he has indeed found my parents, if this dark blot upon my life may swept away.” Harry now turned upon the busy pavement of Eighth street, yet thronged with people, late as it was in the day. These, however, were mostly Boome on their daily way home from employment, the army of shoppers having long since marched off with ite spoils. Yet some few stragglers remained. A handsome carriage was drawn up before the door of a goods establishment, its ebony-skinned c man “evidently impatient of the long delay. He did not seem to approve of late shopping. Just as Harry reached this point, two ladies from the store docr. They were about en- tering the carriage when the elder paused, and said: | “T think, after-all, Helen, I had better have that lace. It will only take a minute ortwo. You need not come back; wait for me in the carriage.”’ rapaney ei her long train, the richly-attired lady swept back into the store, with all the grand manner of a queen of page The younger lady was about a into the carriage, when her purpose was arrested by a light a upon her arm, and the tones of a well-known voice. ‘One moment, Helen—Miss Andrews.” She turned, with a slight start on seeing that it was indeed Harry Spencer, he who had been some- how that moment in her thoughts. “My mother will be back immediately, Mr. Spen- cer,” she said, in a warning voice, ““Yes, yes, I know; I have but a word. There has something come between us—the work of an enemy, I fear.”’ “The work of an enemy,” she faintly replied. “Can Pm tell me his name—and his object?” was his quick rejoinder. “Not now—not now!” she answered. “I may—at some future time—when I am —when I feel at liberty to pee. “It is ve rtant that I should know now,” he replied. “ y arrest may have been the work of the same enemy.” “Twill write—when I learn anything,” she _re- sponded, in the same hurried, broken tone “ Stay no longer, sir. My mother will be here.” ‘One word more,” he resisted, arresting her movement toward the carriage, “ Some unknown friend saved me from the horrors of a prison. Do you know whom?” He looked eagerly into her eyes, She turned her head away, answering in con- strained accents: ‘“How should I know? It matters not. There is no virtue in assisting people where one risks nothing. Good-by, Mr. Spencer.” She ae him her hand, and one long look from her soft eyes. <A liquid luster swam in those deep orbs. She seemed loth to turn them away. “*Good-by, Helen,” he said, with more tenderness in his lin verin intonation than he dreamed of. He assisted her into the carriage and walked on, just an instant before her mother stepped, in all her stateliness, from the store. Mrs. Andrews leaned indolently back upon the richly-upholstered cushions, as the carriage rolled awa i P hia not take the lace, after all,” she remarked; ‘it was not as fine as I thought. By the way, did I not see a young gentleman assisting you into the aoe lightly changing col “'Yes,”’ slig’ c color. “Who was ity “Mr, Spencer,” was the quiet reply. A look of dismay came upon the mother’s face; she used her fan rapidly, but said nothing, and did not Again speak during the ride home, “There is a gentleman in the parlor,” announced the girl, on their ente the house. “ Ah, who is it?” asked Mrs. Andrews. “Tt is “op A goke a voice from the open parlor ty and . Williamson stepped out into the “Very ha to see you,” declared the lady. ‘‘ We have just returned m a shopping expedition. Helen, entertain Mr. Williamson for a few minutes, until ! remove m wraps.” Helen entered the perine with a ve pe iene look upon her face. She knew well what her moth- er meant by the few minutes, and dreaded an inter- view with thisman, She seated herself without re- moving her shaw] and hat. “TI have not seen you, Helen,” he said, taking 4 chair near her, “since your abrupt dismissal of me a week or 80 ago. Ido not know yet what I did on that occasion ffend you.” “T did not give you understand that I was of- fended.” “Yes; I took your action to mean that."’ “IT was offended,’ she coldly replied. rv aa why? What had I done!—what had I “T do not see that an lanations are cgenengcal f I am very weary, Mr. Williamson; I hope you will not soon on this undesirable sub ahd . ed: “You grow weary very easily lately—of my s ety,’”’ he replied, with & eudden burst of iD er. “Once you were more re t. Lhave a right to demand the reason of this chats, “When a Ping pe gentleman descends to the en- vious detraction of another, he has no reason to ask pp poistely why he has made his motives and him- despised.” Her tone was hot as his. ‘“ You volunteered uncalled-for ig sag Mr. Spencer, with the object of injuring him in my estimation, You have but injured yourself.” “T said only the truth. He is a—"” “It matters not what he is,”” she coldly inter- rupted. ‘I domot think the tone of this interview is sufficiently pleasant for either of us to wish to continue it. shall send my mother down to you, Mr. Williamson. ing him gnawing hialip in aneer’ He eat & moment 8 a r. © amom irresolutely; then wurideuie a started up, seized his hat, and left the house. “*T shall be even with bP yet, my lady!’ he mut- tered, bitterly, as he descended the steps with a flerce tread. CHAPTER XV. DIOK FEELING HIS LINES, Dicx’s watchfulness had redoubled after the re- tion by Mr. Williamson of the express-package. Phere was not a person who entered or leti the
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Detective Dick. 13 build containing his office but passed under the “Did surveillance of the boy’s keen eyes. There was not | ‘* How's that a pareel of any uncertain character taken from the building but what he traced it to its destination. There was not as taken by Mr. Williamson but it was elosely followed by our young sleuth-hound. ‘The lawyer’s keenness on a former occasion had taught Dick a useful lesson. He was not the rat to be caught twice inthe same trap. Williamson little dreamed under’ what a close scrutiny his every movement was placed. This incessant vigilance of Dick was not without its reward.’ He succeeded in adding another valu- able mash to the net which he was slowly drawing around certain u icious individuals. “1 tell you,"’ he declared to Jack Bounce, drop- / ping in unceremoniously on that easy-going p_rson- he age, “I tell you there’s fun afloat. ore work cut ' out for you detectives.” é, “Wow is thaty”’ asked Jack, taking his feet down . from the window and lookin ““What’s broke loose now, my ? Pun!” announced Dick, seating himself astride a chair, “I'm ‘workiug up’a little traverse, Mr. Bounce,” looking the embodiment of. boyish shrewd- ness, “‘and if I ain't jeft out some of the figgers, or got in a loose seréw somewhere, then there'll be ructions. That's all.” : : “Suppose you get a little nearer the point, my outhful friend, en it might be remotely possible o get an inkling of what you are diiving at—which it would puzzle the devil to tell now.” “TI thought it was the bizness, of you see clear in shady places,” retor ed Dick, w. a laugh. “ Well, this is the solid English of it, If I . round at Dick. detectives to ain’t sold out by sercpmstances, there'll’ be new counterfeits on ‘the market afore the next sun gits head above water.” | “How do y \ Jack looked at the boy with an odd expression. He seemed puzzling himsel “All right,” he exclaimed. ‘I don’t forget ¢ iv 4 ‘7 4 aah “Any news from Bosting yit?”’ © Nothi It is too fone “It'll come. There’s a bit more of fun in éhat r ” . : ; ; | “That is another of your deep secrets, Dick,” the detective remarked, indifferently. “ Yes. I greek guns on a secret, Like them too | well to sell thém out cheap. The beer’s a-brewin’, my friend, You shall have your cup full when it’s ot ii?’ . Libs eFiie : “ , Dick had his elbows on the back of the chair, and bis face co bere veen his two eee looking a very owl o om as he spoke, * Jack eo ig as he caught the comical ex- on. 0 hoy, eats should like to know in what blind alley you were brought up, You are the queerest specimen I have seen for an age.” “Cate, ain't I?’ “ Cute is no,word for it." BE eed fa I’m a-diggin’ for. It’s jist my idear of glory.” . . ey were interrupted at. this PP gst by the en- } trance of ees associates Mr, Will Frazer. The spate face of this gentleman was somewhat flushed, as if he had beenimbib.ng good liquor, or bad news. ° 4 : flung himself reckle into a chair, looki dg with -Y woobeyone beacon that set Jack laughing. bs _ “Tt beats thunder!”’ “And thuader ain’t easy beat,” was Jack’s re- | sponse. “fm just ready to give up.” “Don't, give up the ship,’ quoted Jack, with a comical grimace, “On! y u’d be i fiddling if the world was on fire,” il, impaticnily. growled “You are the most / ageravating—" ** But I don’t see that even a corner of the world is on fire. There is not astraw burning, so far as my eyesisht goes!’ Dick, who had a high admiration of Jack Bounce’s wit, sat listening, wich his whole face full of sileut iv enjoyment. . ; : | ‘)'ll show youwhere the fire is,” exclaimed will. **What do you think of anew note afloat? <A bran- new twenty on the Arlington First, National. And hardly a false line in it. It took one of our cutest brokers to make it out, [tell you this is enough to make a man forswear his yrandmother.”’ Jack had started hastily from his lo position on hearing these words. His eyes were fixed on Dick ; os if he was dooxing at a wizard. “ Well, Pl. be shot.if it ain't just come out as he iid,” cried the officer. ‘You're on a hot trail, ; piu, sure as shooting! What is it, boy? And who | re tne parties in ity’ r * Don’t know,’ Dick drawled out, with an aggra- ot vating utterance. “I see’d somethin’, thatI ’spected : wis queer money, takin’ wing. Couldn't swear, A though, that this is, the same stuff, and wouldu’t ig sie to risk troublin’ innercent folks.”’ q “Leave that tous. We are older hands than you. : Put us on the track and leave us to follow it up.’ | | tache and dark curly har. ut you on Sol Lt Seer returned Dick. y progress: “He is a doubtful character. But we haven't caught him napping yet.” : ‘* And won't very soon,” added Will, with a touch of scorn. ‘The boy was right in one thing, though. The Jew has been in 1,085 North Eleventh street.’ a ? To-day?’ asked Dick, quickly. es. ,’ “ To see the folks?” “To see Mr. Spencer, who was absent. Mr. Sly waited a half-hour for his return, and then left, say- ing he would call again.” That’s growin’ nobby and interestin’,” and Dick was somewhat excited. ‘‘ What follered? Did you Oey: orders? Did you snatch him and go through m.”’ ““Yes. He was arrested and searched. And pretty fools we made of ourselves to pay any attention to your vagabondish fancies,” “Didn't find nothin’, then?” asked Dick, excitedly. “Hadn't stole nothin’? found not a pemmy’s worth about him that didn’t be- rating and threatening we got.” eying no at- nat kind of trinkets?’ , ‘ chain, a— ‘ “There! that'll do. That's a-plenty!” said Dick, “Well, you did make purty fools of yourselves, through Harry Spencer’s house for! And you're “Nothing lighter than a dstone, nor heavier than a feather,” said Will, sarcas = We coe to him. s! nket or two. His whole outfit wasn’t worth the “A few trinkets, eh?’ mused Dick tention ‘to his other words. “ Lhardly know, as I took little notice of them, A caméo pin, a bronze medal, with an odd sort of with intense sarcasm. ‘And you let him slide, with all that on him?” “ Yes ” and you kin say so ag’in and tell no lie, , Jack Bounce, that medal ‘was the very thing he went gol * to make a ‘mint of trouble by lettin’ it slip ‘ough qour fingers.” “May be we had better search him again and re- lieve him of it,”’ suggested Jack. “S’arch a hen’s roost for eggs arter a weasel’s been there!” said Dick, contemptuously. “ That iss danced. Can’t git it up ag’in. Bet high that hadn’t that medal ten minits arter the perlice opened their claws and let him slide, I know where itis, though, and I’m goin’ for it, quicker’n greased lightnin’ ever went for a scorche pier Aud Dick left the room in hig gust with the lice, oa e had another important interview that. same day with Ned sar ‘The latter had just heard from Mr. Ha at Chester, and had some information which Dick oeere “0 fy trace the n ho left the package,” C @ man who le e 4 confessed the detective. © P “ That's, my.mutton,” cried Dick. ‘Who and wieHiarcis re abot him tlemanly represents. as a gen oun, fellow, who thes been Boaraing for, the last aig months at the Steamboat Hotel in Chester, A well- dressed, sociable oP who seems to have nothing ke do but to enjoy himself, and plenty of money to ee tg do it. Nothing odd or suspicious about m, ; . ts bbe not. What's his name?” pe Hendricks.” : , “All right! Wears store-clothes, and cuts. a figure, eh! O, K.! Bet he’s my meat. Been investiga- tin’ the Molly lately ?”’ * Yes. But Turner is pusiped oom I fancy; for nothing comes up now, pump as as I will.’ * He's cute!” said Dick, ingly. 3 learned one piece of information.” “ The Mouy Pek t change h rters. Sh : e Molly. is going to e her quarters. e sails from th'r Ort at ten to-morrow morning.” “That's news. There’s more fun afloat. Shouldn’t wonder if I sailed with her.. Look out for news soon, Mr, Hogan. Things is comin’ to a focus. And,now, if you ain’t got no objection, ’'l go hunt my sup- r, pend, without waiting for an objection, Dick took his departure, CHAPTER XVI. DICK’S THIRD BATH. Nep Hoaan was right in one piece of information he had gained. There were busy notes of prepara- tion on board the yacht Molly, the next morning. It was a bright, balmy day in the latter part of a the sun shining with a warmth and splendor that presaged August weather. Just at ten Mr, Williamson, who had ben for some time closeted in the cabin, left the yacht, cry- ing cheerily to the captain, who had followed him on deck: “A prosperous voyage! Besure you hit the mark. | Keep me posted in all your movements,”’ “Ay! ay!’’ sung back Cap. Parker, waving his hands in adieu. He was a handsome fellow, with long black mus- There was something in his face not unllke that of Harry Spencer. Yet his expression was very d.fferent, his eyes having an unsteady, sinister look, while his weak mouth and chin seemed to indicate a lack of ener- gy. “Tf it is necessary telegraph, and I will come on at once,’ said Williamson. “IT don’t think it will be necessary,’’ the captain answered; “I have the facts here, and here,”’ tap- Nothing more than a few nickels and | ping his forehead and his vest- et. “It will go ard if I don’t manage them, Cast off that line!” he cried to one of the two sailors of the yacht. In a minute more the Molly began to slowly glide out of her dock. Her sail was partly raised, and caught a breath of the fitful wind. : Now all her sails rose to the mast-head and were spread to their fullest extent. There was some bird-like in the graceful movement with which she { bent to the breeze, and glided with increasing speed | out into the broad bosom of the river. Mr. Williamson stood gazing ey agra after her, : as did also a knot of loungers on the next wharf. ‘ Yet there was nowhere a sigu of Dick Darling, who had, the night before, thane ae his intention of tak- ing a trip on the Molly. he changed his mind? Or had be been frightened off by the presence. of Ay er deep It was certain that he was not on a The yacht stood across till near the bar, then nay and stood down the open channel of the ver. ‘ The lawyer now turned and walked away, just one minute too soon to witness an incident which was curiously noted by the group of loungers. : “Look at the boy! He don’t. know how to use, an oar I guess,” said one. What boat is that he’s got?”’ *“*Oh! Joe Carson’s leaky old tub, that isn’t worth the oakum to stop the leaks. The boy borrowed it to go a-fishing. thunder, he’ll be struck!” “The joe is trying to get out of his bf ENE “‘ But did you ever see oars handled soaw wardly? _He is right across her fore-foot again “Down goes his house!’ shouted the other & - er. “I hope the veuturesome. young vagabond won't be'drowned:”’ , ry At that instant a slight, crashing sound was heard, reaching faintly to their ears: e boat they had en watching passed under the swiftly-gliding yacht. a . “Where is the boy? Is he gone?” cried the first speaker, inalarm, “I'll swear the yachtmen didn’t half try to get out of running him down.” , “Drown him,” rejoined the other. “You could as well drown a fish. ere he goes!” They could see a slight, boyish form, clambering, hand over hand, up the side of the vessel, by pape he had grasped n a moment more he sprung light- ly in on the Molly’s deck. ie . We will accompany him on board... He stood erect and’ defiant on the deck, the water running in streams from his drenched clothes, id “Well, if you ain’t a purty set. of one-hoss sailors, Til sell out!” he exclaimed, ba Nt! te upto “There’s a new boat smashed inter kindlin’ wood *cause, there ain’t a man on. board knows howto : shift a rudder. You’d best go ashore and hireina menagerie,” “Tt’s your own stupidity, boy,” growled Cap. Parker, advancing. ‘* What business have you in the channel, when you know no more than a cow about handling an oar?” ; “That's right; blow.me up, arter you've run me down and half-drownded me," retorted Dick, for it was that precious indiyidual., ““ Ain’t you got a cook- stove somewhere handy, where I can git my French broadcloth dried?’ , ; ?. “We had best stand in and put him ashore,” sug- gested Joe Turner to the captain, . ' . “No hurry bout that,” said Dick. “TI want, togit dried fust. You kin drop me out somewhere down the river, Don’t be "feared but I'll drop on my legs no matter where you fling me. I’m at home any- w And the independent young rogue went below in search of a fire where he Talgbe Oty his dripping clothes. ; ‘ “Well, he’s. a quent customer,” declared Cap. Parker: ‘ Where is the boat?” : “Oh! it wasa rotten old shell,” replied Turner. “Tt ain't worth picking up. And as long. as the little villain isin no. hurry about getting ashorerwe can take him at his word, It is bad luck to turn back after making a good start. We can land him at Chester.” f “That will do, Joe, as long as he is so easily satis- ° fied. . He is a saucy-looking young Villain.” Swiftly down the river sped the yacht, in front of the long, red lines of the city.. She was.an excellent sailer, and light as the wind was, her great spread of sail caught up every wandering puff, and turned it into rapid motion through the sunlit waters. —. It was high noon before Dick again. appeared on deck, thoroughly dried and renovated, for oue of the men, with a soft spot in his soul, bad taken the boy in hand, giving him a thorough rubbing from head to foot, and ironing out his wet clothes. “There, I feel, jist as neat as a new clothes-pin,” announced Dick, cheerily, as he stepped into the open'sun, “I’m in forancw baththough. Thisis - my second trip overboard eaweek. S’pose I'l athe another trip. Things allers goes by threes, you now.’ : It was not twenty minutes before he was_hail- fellow with all the crew, from the captain down, | his. cheery. independence of manner seeming to just © hit their fancies. _ » * Dunno but I'd jist as lieve go round the world in a craft like this,’’ he declared, as he took.in the delight of their swift, smooth motion. ‘She’s jist like a bird on the wing. Couldn’t carry them sails, though, in a. wind,” “Té would take a strong gale to make the Molly haul in her wings,” averred Cap. Parker. ‘‘ And as for your going around the world, it is only sailors, not land-rats, that make that triv.” ‘“* And what makes a sailor?” asked Dick. “He's got to beas much at home on deck or aloft as a tailor on his board, or 4 farmer with his plow. I don’t think you'd make much headway in shinning _ ey
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a~ Eee ae the shrouds, or sand-papering the mast-head in a e. »” “*Sand -paper be blowed!” said Dick, contemptuous- 4 ‘* You cau’t put that down my throat, And as for them rope-ladders, if them’s what you call shrouds, bet I can run up them faster than a squirrel can run — aati ith a quick spring from the deck Dick caught the shrouds, and twisting himself around to their outer side he ran up as nimbly as if he had spent his life at the mast-head of a vessel. “ Ahoy! there, you lubbers!”’ he cried, from aloft. **How’s that for a greenhorn’s fingers and toes? What, next? Want me tostand on my head on top of the mast?” “T want you to come down from there!’’ shouted Cap. Parker. ‘The venturesome young would do it,” he said to Turner. Say I shouldn't like to dare him too far,” replied the tter. Dick caught a rope and slid rapidly down, disdain- ing the slower passage by the shrouds. *Guess I could learn, Cap. Whereaway are you Guess so, If I know myself, elphy’s my head center. Don’t want to git toofur away.” For the next hour or two Dick continued to make himself at home on the Molly, investigating every part of the vessel, making friends with everybody, and keeping a keen eye open for any indication of a contraband cargo. And down the broad Delaware the yacht glided, past green shores, and the white lines of a low fort, past the flat, long island of Tinicum, till in the dis- tance rose the roofs and spires of a small town along the river flats, and topping the low hills in the back- ground. “ What do you call that place, Cap?’’ asked Dick, with innocent curiosity. ** That is Chester.”’ “Qhester? Yes, I’ve hearn tell of it. "Tain’t much, Goin’ to stop there, ya “Guess so. It will be a good place to get rid of you,” “ How folks do think elike,’’ said Dick. “I was jist thinkin’ it would be a good place to get rid of you. “ Anxious to get ashore, Dick?” “Kinder. Don’t want to git too fur from head- quarters.”’ “How would you like to stay with us and learn to be a sailor?” * Ain’t I Kee ge myself enough in that line a’ready? Thought I’d done enough to ‘arna medal orsich. Or a pretty chain like that stickin’ outer your vest pocket.” There was hardly the eighth of an inch of the chain in question visible, and Dick’s notion of its beauty seemed to be largely guess-work. “Tf you got that you would have medal and chain both,’ said Cap, laughing, as he drew the chain from ket. Teka a small, neatly-stam bronze medal, the ghein attached to it so Sa twisted in a peculiarly odd ashion. Dick’s eyes danced as he saw it. “That’s jist the leather medal I've ’arn’d. Let me it on.” without waiting for an answer he took it from Capt. Parker’s careless grasp and flung the chain round his neck. «‘‘How’s that for a set-off?’ proudly. ‘ Guess it es my style of beauty." He turned his eyes carelessly toward the shore. The channel here closely eee ny the land, and the boat was not two hundred yards from shore, The breeze had freshened somewhat, and she was run- ning rapidly down the channel. Several stone farm- houses rose some distance back from the shore. Chester had now loomed up intoits full proportions, about half a mile distant. Just below them the ech tia channel of Ridley creek emptied into the ver. ** You have impudence enough to mer you, boy!” Sea vo Parker, half-angrily. ‘‘ Give me back e m ” “ Not if 'know myself,” sturdily. ‘* You said, out- and-out, that I'd ’arn’d a medal, and guv me this, I think too much of my presents to guv them away n.’ = You rascally watnes abe what do you mean?” eried Parker, attemp’ to seize him. ‘Hand it here immediately, or I'll swear if I don’t cowhide you.’ “Got to ketch your rabbit afore you kin cook py ar a his grasp. ‘“‘Tell me of it when you * Blast your eyes!" cried Parker, in a rage, rush- after him. ‘“‘Stop, or I won’t leave an ounce of » skin on your body!’’ But Dick did not see the utility of stopping, and a rapid chase began around the deck, the captain swearing with every step. He called on the others to aid and a general hunt after Dick com- menced. He eluded them for awhile, but it was evident that the unequal chase could not long con- ue, Dick was quick to perceive this, and now made a sudden diversion in the pursuit by changing the field of operations. Grasping one of the shrouds, he ran mi fen patna pe =, to under side, as readily as he ove done on its upper. *Oatch me who can!” he sung Sg a minute, from near the mast-head. But he was not to be left long in this fancied se- eurity. One of the sailors ascended the opposite Detective Dick: shrouds, and Joe Turner commenced to climb those on which he stood, two-thirds way up. “Mind your eye, red-head!”? eried Dick. ‘* Don’t come too near or my foot mought git lively.” “Bring him down here!’’ roared the captain, “Tl be shot if I don’t make him a lesson for all ‘young thieves!” Dick looked keenly around. His position was getting too warm for comfort. The two pursuers were approaching dangerously near him. 6 light of a quick resolution broke across his face. “Catch your rabbit first, Cap. Parker!” he shout- ed; “and when you git him you'd best bile him. Basting ain’t good for a tender skin,” There was a quick spring that half-shook Joe Turner from the shrouds; a small, dark body de- scended like lightning throughthe alr, a loud splash in the water followed, and Dick disappeared from view. A loud curse broke from the captain's lips. “Quick! To the sheets! Down with your helm! Bring her round lively! I'll be hanged if I don’t run the young hound down!” But it took some time to get all hands at their posts to wear ship, and by the time the Molly came round, she was five hundred yards away from Dick, who had appeared on tho surface and was swim- ming lustily for shore, : For several minutes it was doubtful if he would succeed. The Molly took tho wind on herown quar- ter and camo on at a rapid paco. But tho bottom shoaled here rapidly, and they were obligod to suddenly haul off when they saw Dick with his foot on the bottom,ioss than fifty yards distant. With a cry of uncontrollable vac Cap. Parker seized a muskot and aimed at the boy. Ere he could pull the trigger howover, the weapon was thrown up by tho han of Joo ‘Turner. “That won't do, Cap,” he said, sternly. “‘ Murder is a dangerous plaything.” Dick had now gained sure footing, and was wading rapidly ashore. ‘Get out the boat!’’ cried one oO. tho incn; “we can catch him yet.” “You can catch a swallow on the wing!” was Turner’s observation, as he saw Dick climbing the river bank. “But we must have that medal back, by hook or crook. Strike quick for Chester, and we will see what can be done. The last they saw of Dick he was standing upright on the bank, his finger to his nose indulging in some odd gyrations. He plunged out of sight behind the bank as the Molly wore gracefully round upon her heel, and re- sumed her rapid flight down-stream. CHAPTER XVII. DICK AMONG THE GHOSTS, Dick's first 2g md was to put some desirable distance between himself and his late friends on the olly, But a preliminary look over the bank satisfied him that there was no haste needed, as the yacht had re- sumed her down-river course, and there were no fears of immediate pursuit. He took out the medal and gazed at it with curious eyes. ‘“Worked a sh traverse on Cap. Parker, I calk- erlate,” he thought, as he = his prize carefully a “I'm ‘feared he won't find it quito so casy to play his little game. But, this kind of thing is gettin’ a leetle monotonous. Here lam as wot asa new herrin’ ag’in, and these durned new clothes are hangin’ as light on me as a stepmother’s blessing. What’s the lay of the land hereaway? Dick stood ina clump of willows near the mouth of Ridley creek, that here made a sharp bend and ran at an angle into the river. Only a short distance to the north stood the low frame buildings of the fishery. Their hauls had been made for the day, and the immense seine not was hung up on its framework to dry, while the fishermen were busy in preparing @ great catch of shad for market. ‘*Guess there’s a cook-stove "bout them shanties. I'm gittin’ kinder h for a dry skin, and maybe ae | ll give me the tail end of a br’iled shad to wash own.”’ Dick found no difficulty in getting both his require- ments. His escape from the yacht had been seen by some of the men, and many were the curious ques- tions asked him as he sat before a hot fire, “Tt weren’t nothin’,” prot Dick. ‘Had a few words with a chap there that thinks he owns the sun and moon, and would like to claim a con- sid’able sprinklin’ of the stars. We got kinder hot over it, and he brung out a cowhide for his end of the argyment. Now, that’s a kind of asa ge that ain’t got no good logic in it. Struck me it were a good time to come ashore—so I come.” Dick closed his lips as if he thought he had been unusually profuse in explanation, and that further words were quite unnecessary. The grateful warmth of the stove drew clouds of steam from his drenched clothes, and he sat toast- ing himself with deep @fjoyment of life, while a kind-faced old fisherman put the half of a shad on to fry for him. hey judge you’re hu ,”’ remarked the old fel- low, as he sprinkled the fish liberally with salt. “We've got our insides to look after as well as our outsides. You’re mighty young fry to be knocking anon, Porasees ed,” protested Dick, laughing. 7 *m seasoned,”’ ug , as he turned another aide to the ieee Had pepper and salt rubbed inter me ’foreI war old enough to know beans from pumpkins. Guess I can hoe my own row.” **You’re a cute one,” acknowledged the old man, “and a well-built chap, too. Wouldn’t you like to take a turn at the net? It’s good pay, and plenty to U. “Feared I mightn’t like fish for a steady diet,” demurred Dick, as he cut into the well-cooked shad, which the old man had just placed before him. “Tt's ood though, when a feller’s been prune up on thin ivin’, Whereabouts are we here? hat’s that place down the river?” **That’s Chester.”’ “Chester, hey? It’s a sizable village. Fine country *bout here, I reckon?” “Yes, very good. The Effinger farm, across the railroad there, is a first-rate one.” Dick looked out the open door at the men who were busily engaged with their bie and shining harvest. Some distance away, though not far back from the river, stood a white stone house, that had about it an unmistakable air of desertion. “That a farm-house?’’ asked Dick, as he turned to dry the few remaining wet spots. ‘“‘ Looks as if the family weren’t to home.”’ “The family there don’t need shut windows or hot fires,” answered the old man, mysterionsly. ‘* Hot nor cold don’t hurt them.” “What do you mean?” asked Dick. “Nobody ever saw them, but many has heard them,” was the reply. ‘Ghosts keep that house,” “ Ghosts!” ech Dick, hands and eyes uplifted in wonder. ‘What, real hobblegoblins? Wellers that kick around the world with nothin’ on them, not even flesh or bones?” * Just that kind.” “Well!” cried Dick, with a long breath. ‘Tell me all about them, If there's fa th like it’s Senge Sooner have a ghost any day than catfish or supper.”” “Think I’d sooner have catfish.” “But what kind of ghosts? White fellers, or them pt cen see through, or them that takes it out in kicking up tantrums, and never shows their- selves? I'm an epicure in ghosts. Don’t like all “There hasn’t nobody never seen them,’ declared. the old man, solemnly. ‘All there is is footsteps, and ree: of doors, and such like. And when you follow them up-stairs they’re kicking up the same row down-stairs before you could say Jack Robinson. Parties have eae there to stay all night and find out all about it; but I notice they’ve all got business home before morning.” “Nobody live there?” : “Live there! Ibet not! The ghosts has got hold, and nobody cares to dispute their title.” **You ever been there?” “T ain't taking none of that provender, By, The world’s big enough to hold me and the spirits too; but there ain’t no house big enough to hold us both at once. I’ve seen lights and heard voices about the old house. That’s enough for me.” “When? Late at night?” “Yes, always after midnight.” “T dunno,” observed Dick, rising. “I dunno, but as long as ghosts kin crowd inter keyholes and such and don’t take up no room, I don’t see why me and a houseful of spirits can’t crowd in together. Guess rl go over and see if any of the folks is to home now. Pres 7! over there?’ exclaimed the old man, in rm. - “What's to hinder?” demanded Dick, coolly. “9! they’re all in their coffins this time of day, anyhow. And if they weren’t, what’s the odds? Of*en heered of ghosts skeering folks. Never heered of them hurting folks.” “But you ain’t dry,” insisted the ofd man, nerv- ously, “4 bry as pine wood that's been a month at returned Dick. ‘‘Now don’t you be a-wortitin’. I’ve eat your shad, and stewed ‘longside your fire, and I ain’t going back on you by lettin’ no critter without bones and muscles git the better of Dick Darling. I'll put myself ag’in’ the biggest shadder as ever kicked up a botheration, and you kin bet odds on me. Good-day, and much obleeged.”’ “Oh! you're highly welcome. You're a s little fellow, and I’ e to keep out of harm.” “Why, bless your eyes!” averred Dick, *‘ ’'ve been stewed, fried, roas and fricaseed, been blowed up with gunpowder, and tumbled off a shot-tower been through fire and water more than higpeted got pepers and toes, and I’m not the chap to be skeered outer my seventeen senses by none of your country- bred ghosts. Not me, Dick Darling.” And Dick walked off with a eee independ- ence that caused him to be follow ith adm tion ke the eyes of the fishermen. Straight to the old house he went and disap within its portals. A dozen eyes followed him there and several dozens of comments upon his youthfu bravado succeeded. But with the most sublime indifference to their opinions, Dick commenced his investigation of the haunted house. It had been 2 geen A a stone farm-house, the walls substantially built, and the woodwork yet resisting the action of time, though the rains through the open windows had ridged and mil- dewed the floors, and frescoed the walls with count- The bor icked his gingerly th e boy pic way rly over the wet and slippery floors, passing through ey room after Rage nothing out of the ordinary anywhere “A high old shanty this to get up a ghost sto: on!’’ decided Dick, Uplifting his nose in contemy: “The idear of a sperit comin’ all the way from t’other world to e boardin’ in a rotten old crib like this! Don’t stuff none of that down my throat. coe Parker didn’t come here for no sich ridie‘leus stuff.” F — a = So
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} r ' | Dick continued his exploration, noticing traces of rocent footsteps in the room: but deciding that they were those of some a visitors. He descended to down stairs that were damp and slimy, andi: yielded like an elastic carpet to the foot. There were two cellars. One extended under the front portion of the house, an onto, rather narrow room, with thick stone walls, from this, on the north side of the house, atinded a small square room. It was dark and musty, and seemed to have been formerly used for the storage of vegetables. ‘hese cellars passed under about half of the house, the remaining portion apparently being built on the bare ground, The outer cellar yet contained several piles of rub- bish remaining from the days of its occupancy as a residence. In one corner was a moldering heap of empty boxes. In another an em soars stood with its open end downward. ly-wrecked table and a pair of broken-backed and seose tea chairs completed this picture of desolation, which was a fair display of the conflict between Nature and the results of modern civilization, in ane a begins to win as soon as man’s hand is with- = Had a kind of notion that 94 ghost story was an out-and-out sell,” mused Dick, “got up by the counter -iters to drive folks oid these diggin’ 8. And what ghosts would want rummagin’ amon rotten ‘taters and old soap-boxes gits me. But ess I’m out of my reckonin’ ‘bout the counter- eiters. *Twouldn’t be safe for them to try it on in a place like this.” e continued his explorations, examining the wal and even looking into the empty barrel. ain’t no go,” he said. ‘‘Mought as well hunt tor an eagle's egg in a duck’s nest. Guess I'll make tracks, and— fallo | what’s that?”’ Footsteps sounded on the floor above. The tones of voices came down to Dick's ears. ‘* Wonder if them’s the ghosts?” | he said grimly. **Quess I'd best look out for squalls.” The steps continued to move about the up tion of the house. Finally they reached stairs and Somntuenaed to descend. it was nothing ghostly that had thus startled Dick. After Dick’s escape the Molly had proceeded direct to Onester. Without loss of time Cap. Parker, Joe Tarner and a third mn, @ resident of Chester, had jeft the mee and sought the spot where Dick come Arrived tere they easily learned from the fisher- men what occurred, and that Dick was now in UGvorjovad at thelr prospect of cally recovering ‘er jo; ai 0 recov 3 hastened thither, fo at once | wnt geet the ni oro e the upper rooms. ding nothing the othe descend D the cellar. Oxp. Parker reached here first and looked anx- iously around. To his arene disa} a ren re Dick was uot to be seen. The cellar tterl em ee the fishermen lied er the boy is half- witch,” he muttered. “Ho's all young devil!’ growled war Leh “rn be shot if he hasn’t flung us again. I get ne of him I pane will carry home a sore sig eg bosom of his family.” CHAPTER XVOU1L. DETECTIVE’S RECEPTION We must have Dic« 2 penn awhile im his mysteri- ous disap nee and pay a flying visit to Philadel- hia, to the residence of our government detectives, ery « Bounce and Will Frazer. Somehow we always find them at home and in much the same position, Jack with his feet on the window sill, in fat and hearty enjoyment of life, and Will in a lean Hg about the desperate discourage- ments of busines: Not that they spend all their time thus, They are expert and active in their vocation, and are shrewd- Jy working up the minor clews which they have so ar gained from Dick. As Re: however, their suc- cess has not been great. 1 Sly, in particular, has teken were: on his pene arrest, and has fallen bac into the most correct man of business. E is devilish slow work, Jack,’’ protested Will, ck know the img the floor in his uneasy wa des ae his something to do with it; aa “The whole crew of them have taken fright for the present,” was Jack’s rejoinder. ‘Since that last note was offered they have gone back into their skins. They must have smelt a rat somewhere.” “Not they. I have just heard that it has been set afloat on the New York market. at we can’t nail knows how many of tem are adrift.” his hands with satisfaction. n + i do you make that out?’’ Will sharply ques- onec “The more daring they are the better our chances, that isall. I don’t like to see them drawing back into their holes.” “That boy is a shrewd young rogue,” Will sudden- ty declared. “ Aha! you’ve come to that opinion, then?” “Yas. He has put us on the only track yet. And he : knows more than he eares to tell.” in good time. I have great faith in Dick. Fe has some big thing in his eve. Their conversation was interrupted by a kneck upon the door. Will hastened te open it. Te was a chambermaid whe announced: ; could tel] her nothing, of course. She may come to : clared. A full dozen of them have turned up in the banks, and the Lord ' tion,” apologized Jack to the ladv. “So much the better,” exclaimed Jack, rubbing | Detective Dick. snhaeeina inte MUliveiegritik mlaben 30-0 | eakinlecnty::, Sesto the rear parlor wishes to see ‘ou “Ah! e young lady?” “ Yes. “Very rail We will be there.” “That's the way, as soon as a fellow ably settled,” muttered J. ack, rising his chair. “If it wasn'ta young you to see her, but you are too 80) trusted alone with the or “T!” cried Will, lau ghing. “Why, my heart isa millstone compared with e | soft affair you carry sao in that bosom of yours.” right,’’ and Jack uttered a deep nigh. “ Slan- der aan die out while this world lives. I suppose I shall have to bear my | share of it.” gl em Pork martyr,” and Will slapped him heart- on t dhoulder as they descended the stairs. c olks will never appreciate your peculiar hard- heartedness, Jack looked with eyes of admiration on the beau- tiful face of the young lady who advanced a step to meet them as they entered the parlor. She was oqneny too nervous to quietly await their en- rance. “You will excuse me disturbing you,” she said, in asweet voice. ‘I called upon you orn J a mat- ne comfort- from iwi would leave ft-h to ter about which I have been ag “ ry “ Certainly, miss. We shall be elp you,” spoke out Jack ss y, helping jaa oie to a chair, greater » handed one to big a Will, wit “T am told that you are government detectives, and are concerned here in see out the counter- feiters, who have issued so alse notes.”’ ‘*T don’t know how you fot that a. miss, ex- claimed Jack, in surprise. *‘‘ People in eral look upon us as two very quiet and innocent otal D board- ers.’ “It seems that you have been detected,” she con- fessed, with a faint, smile, from a ei source.’ *So ppears,”” admitted Will. ‘‘ What can we do for fee miss?” “Of course P hcg are gh 3 of the arrest of Mr. Spencer, on charge of being connected with t ese forgers?" “Oh, certainly,” and Jack drew up his chair with quick interest. pis on eer know he is innocent,” she continued, “My information came have e know “That was one of my objects in coming here,” she now answered, with an eager light in her face. “From what you know of the real criminals, from your long and close investigation, you can point suspicion in the proper direction; you can assure me that the ig against him is of no value.” Jack co in an em d manner, while Will had su 4 business at the window, leaving his associate to explain the valuable results of their re- hes. A knock at the door was a welcome diversion. will hastened to o bermaid who had “* 4 letter for Mr. razon there is a man down- both. ” “Very well. Tell him he will see him in a few minutes,’’ answered Will, impatiently, ly shut- ting the door, and hastening to open the letter. You know the charges against Mr. Spencer?” ** About the counterfeit notes being found in his rooms? Oh, yes.” “Tt has a serious look.” i But, i know it must have been the work of some enemy,’ ’ she cried, in an excited tone. “Excuse me,” interrupted Will. from Boston, Mr. Bounce.” “Ah! any trace of the parties?” “Yes; the whole story is trne. Mrs. “iilton still lives there. She was much excited by my agent’s questions, She still mourns for her lost son. He “= it, and stripe the same cham- re knocked at their dovr. she announced. “ And stairs, sir, as wants to see you ‘This is a letter Philadelphia to see us. “Tam afraid we can tell her no more,” Jack de- “The boy can. Wemnst refer herto Dick.” 9 rount | us for entering into a private conversa- “Tt is another important matter in which we are interested. You think, then, that Mr. Spencer has been injured by an enemy?” al am oaré of it!” she responded, excitedly. “ Have you any idea by whom? “T cannot sav,” she answered, more thouchtfully. “Think a moment. Do vou know any one who has expressed enmity, or who has shown an unfriendly feeling to him?’ ** None who could have sourht to injure him in this way.” was hér slow ly-riven answer. “Perhaps not. We offieers have a habit of con- sidering so many little points. Always hoping some- thing may turn up, you know. Will you please name any persen who has seemed unfriendly to im ? “ey i not know that he is specially unfriendly,” be know hi q y: gi “Th dness. “Th liamson. reluctantly. ‘“ He some slanders Mr. Spencer, and even used some vague BR was but a momentary spleen, though.” “ Will you be kind enough to pane this person?’ “It was Mr. Andrew W. “Mr, Williamson ?”’ apone a mack voice at the pot gin in atone of great surprise, cuse me,”’ said speaker, Ree The are told me to come tebe up; and I earner tenehy, overheard some of your at bide ttt rg aes ae (aisa “T am jus r. Spencer,’ said, rising, while her han vieibay trembled. ‘*Thope my thou pushes intrusion has not anno’ ou. Youspoke of slanders against me, and by illiamson’s son?” “ Yes, sir,’ she replied reluctant “T know him,’ cy ky me to me.” oe Mr. Williamson?” asked Jack Bounce, c Warne He is an attorney, whose office is at Fourth and nut, “Have you any other known enemies?’ asked Jack, as he made a memorandum of the address ven him. ‘*T know of no others.” ‘You must not take a wro rong ts ing Mr. Wiliamson,” remark nervous intonation, ression concern Andrews, with “IT am sorry I used oe ao. He isa gentleman—hasty and prejudi but. of course, incapable of anything pnt Bony ead ere are many things of course to young ladies that are not of course to us doubting Thomases,” Wi reer renner her. bliged to , “T must go now am o ou for your Meta bolitels opened the doe “ht sf .. politely opene e door forher. Ha cer stood irresolutely for a moment, then—auying hastily to the aera: “T will see you ‘again ” ened out after Jack Bounce twisted Lge round to look at Will, with a comical smile on his fa’ “ That’sa kind pee that ‘don’t often get im our way. A sort of poem.” ere wasn’t ant said, but wonderful ex- pression of looks and tones,’’ replied Will, laughing. claret Jack has a hankering for her, that’s sure,” de- ““And I fancy her taste runs to Wil- Meat a bit of it,’ and Will ike indi “*Spencer’s her fancy, or I don’t know signa. loo like a case of ousy with this fellow, wil, “ He needs looking after,” “I think so,” replied Jack. “If yan ie mes cent, then the men who is working against our same. by and the reappearance of the beproasile cba door, @ reappearance of the irrepressible chamier- sti “Ve well. Show her up.” = t I best rotate?’ demanded Jack, la ingly. ‘‘ When ladies inquire so icularly’ for Frazer, a chap of my size might be in the way.” “You can hang Will © door long enough t 4 see her,” mnenenes Pe with kind ission. reagent like to have your critical opinion of my endo “Tam a harsh critic,” averred Jack. “ Best tern me out if you wish to escape.” Before Will — reply the door opened, and his new visitor ente She was a Indy ¢ some fift years of age. She was very richly dressed in black silk, and hed about her her a striking dignity of manner. In face she had once been nike beautiful, and was still a markedly hend- some Lines of sadness dee yf channeled her face, showitig principally about the mouth and the deep-set eyes. Saine Bounce hastened to hand her a chair. “Thanks,’’ she replied with dignity of tone. “Which of these emen is Mr. Frazer?” ; “yor = vite to : Boxtow lately, inquiring about ‘You wro' Boston a a Mrs. Milton?” There was an intense feeling in her tone. “*T did,” pet risa n ’ ante XIX. ANIMATED BARREL. Back again to Dick Darling leads the course ef our ‘ower true tale.” The parties who had felt so sure of finding bim im the old house were obliged to swallow their or: intment as best they could. They stood aw talkin of what they would have done if they had only found him, and debating as to how best to eon- tinue their search. Then one of them went heavily up the stairs. The other two remained talking for a minute. “Ts he in it?” “No,” said Cap. Parker. ‘He is an neert in an- other business m which the old man is Be eareful with him.’ - " course I hia replied the other. ‘To-might “Tam met “Mid Mane 9 cx foll H suspect nig us follow. e may something. We will meet here at the time the ghosts walk.” With a laugh he led the way up the & in agente to the voice of Joe Turner, who ou i What is keeping you two? Going rat are you? It ain’t sueh a leis nt old cellar.” oe wane another look round, that is all,” was the "Rokr footsteps sounded loudly im the empty > he replied. le has seemed gpe- , mat lady wishes to see Mr. Frazer,” she announeed. OE OEE cP
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J_ te eee Detective Dick. (15 rooms above. They seemed to leave the house with reluctance, as if their search had not been complete. Nor had it been, for light steps echoed their heavy ones, and boyish eyes peered pit through one of the open windows after the departin men, . round this way when you come back again," cried out Dick, mockingly. ‘If I ain’t to home I'll tell the folks to treat you well—to hot water and pitchforks, Let’s see, that’s Cap and Bricktop, sure enough, who's t’other? A well-built chap, good- looxin’, black mustache. Wonder if it ain't the critter that sent the express package?” Dick’s eyes continued to follow them, until they were out of sight from his point of view Good-by. ® you ag’in to-night,’’ he said, with & courteous wave of the hand. “i won't go back on the *point:nent, if you don’t.” As if thinking that he had had enough of the haunted houso for one day, ho mado his way out. Dick made his way to the ea eons 8, Where he found the men through with their day's labor, and about partaking of their evening meal, ‘“Thops you put away the balance of my dinner,” called out Dick to the old man who had been so Yriendly, ‘ Come back to finish it,” *Tvo a notion you put it away yourself,” and the old man gavo a hearty laugh. “No matter, wo’ll give you a fish-bone to pick. You were in the old housc?” * Guess I were.” ‘See or hoar anything?” Thoy cll looked up with interest for the answer. Nothin’ but moldy walls and rotten floors, dead carrots and cabbago in tho cellar, and not the whisk of & mouso’s tail about tho houso to skcoroven a cat. 1s jist the biggest sell of a ghost’s country seat I ee Dost expect | hing thero by daylight,” ‘02 'toxpect to see anything there aylight, added another of tho aan came ob night, say about midnight, and scoif there won't be enough to tala the links out of your hair,” ‘ right. That’llsave combin’, Mebbe I'll try it on, like to soo a first-class, prime, A No. 1 ghost. Bot I'd havo him bottled up in lavender and showed round for a curiosity. Were that the sup- pombe TI heered? Yes, Pil draw right up.” The rough fshormen wero amused at Dick’s free nud casy manner, and at the fresh flavor of his re- marks, They attempted to banter him a little at {ae supper tablo, but soon found that they had the wrong customer to deal with. The supper ended, as all suppers must, and Dick, after a goneral good-by, took his departure in the ‘lirection of the neighboring town of Chester, where 22 Spent a few hours investigating the place. But a later hour of the night found him wending his way back toward the haunted house, whither we will precede him by a f»w minutes. It was clear moonlight, the tields seemed bathed in cilver, and a rich glow fell upon the rippling waters ea ce d fishermen but turned any of the hard-worke ermen bu their eyes in that direction, they might have seen more than one ghostly figure advance toward the old house, and disap within its portals. The two figures which last arepes ghostlike iato the okl house seemed rather substantial for wan- dering graveyard sprites, and the tones of their voices something decidedly human about them. “Are the others in?’ asked one, whose voice sounded decidedly like that of Captain Parker. ** Yes; a half-hour ago.” Md ell, let’s in,” They were now in the cellar, into which the light of the moon dimly penetrated. They moved on into the square offset already men- tioned, within which they daen red. There was beard a peculiar knocking, and the sound of low voices, Then a creak as of hinges, a quick flash of ight, and all grew dim and still again. ut now a stra thing occurred, that might have alarmed even these ghost-makers, had they seen it. The inanimate things in the cellar seomed suddenly to have acquired the functions of life. The old flour barrel, which had probably lain for years undisturbed and immovable in its corner, sud- denly grew restive, and began to glide, with a slow macieon and frequent intervals of rest, across the cellar. _Its motion was between a hitch and a glide, but as silently made as bedtted a decorous old flour barrel. This strange acrobatic feat continued until the whols length of the cellar was traversed, and the dark cor- ner in its opposite extremity reached. Here it settled down into its former immobility. Then came a new footstep on the floor above, and a, cautious descent into the cellar below. A substantial-looking specter moved quietly through the faint moonlight, and passed with a quick step into the darker alcove of the cellar, in full view of the ghostly old barrel. There followed a peculiar system of signals, con- sisting of successive knocks upon what seemed a hollow portion of the wall, replied to by similar dull- sounding knocks, which seemed to come from with- in the wall. A word was now spoken from within, answered by a password from the new-comer. A oF pe sound followed, and the vitalized bar- rel beheld with wooden wonder a portion’of the stone wall, as it appeared, swing open, etting out a quick flash of light from some secret place within. A faint and peculiar series of sounds were also audible, as the new-comer passed quickly through the opening, and the wall closed and became firm and dark with all night’s gloom again. Something very like a chuckle came from the unseen lips in the comical old barrel, and it sprung into in- stant life, executing a sort of silent war-dance, or _——_———_ ee ee ee ee ee OL what might have been a triumphal waltz, across the cellar toward its old location. lt reached there in less time than it had occupied in its former journey, and now, instead of settling down agaty into the restfulness which should be en- joined by law upon all eo barrels, it very quietly tipped over, showing the mortal form of a sturdy boy. This individual at once restored his temporary habitation to its former position, and then began a very cautious movement toward the ccllar stairs. He soon gained the bottom of the stains, dP which he went until the open air was reached. The boy now circled eg uietly around the house, — ~ in search of rays 0 ht from some hidden windows, He then crept with infinite caution through the ope moonlight, putting the body of a tree between umself and the haunted house as quickly as pos- sible, and not until he reached the railroad ridge at a considerable distance from the deserted mansion i i pause. Then a ringing laugh came from 8 lips. “Tf this ain’t a night’s work that’s worth a leather medal, then sell me fora k crab!" he ejaculated. “Tve got them. They're jist like a skeeter be- tween my thumb and finger, and if I don't squeeze the song out of them, then there's no such things as rats. ant Williamson to get in the trap first. Ain’t satisfied with the mice while the rat’s out, Bet I''stonish Ned Hogan, and circumflusticate the two overnment chaps! Talk about your detectives— ick pare don’t back down from the best of them." And with frequent bursts of laughter Dick made the best of his way toward Chester. CHAPTER XX. A MEETING ON THE STAIRS, “One moment, Miss Andrews,” called Harry Speers as he quickly followed her from the room of the detectives. ‘I shall not detain you more than a minute. But I must speak to you. re ey a somewhat fearful face toward him an : ‘* Perhaps itis not best, Mr. Spencer.” **And why not? Youdo not believe me criminal?” a re — ‘ I aoe you are eas rae ‘Come into the or a moment,” he , taking her irresolute nana: Helen’s fingers rested softly in his close grasp as he drew her forward to a seat on the sofe, finding no room for himself except very near her. She quietly withdrew ber hand as she queried: “*And now, Mr. Spencer?” “Ts it fair to ask what your errand was with the officers?’ **T would rather not refer to it.” “Tt concerned me, I know. You wished to in- quire about me, you could have had no other er- * And if I did? Was it more than friendliness?’ She had unwittingly asked a leading question, to which he hastened to reply: “Yes, it was more—much more! At least I be- lieve—I hope—why should you interest yourself in me? And that is notall.”’ ‘“What more is there?”’ ** You would have concealed it from me, but by chance that I heard of it.” “Of what, Mr. Spencer?” “Of the fact that I owe my liberty to you,” he cried enthusiastically. ‘I have learned you are the unknown friend who provided my bail. Oh, Helen, can I ever repay you? “I could not bear to see my music-teacher go to ag she softly replied. “I must be going now, r mcer.’ “Give me bnt a moment more, I was unwittingly an eaves-dropper just now. Iheard you speak of Mr. Williamson.” “ Yes,”’ she doubtfully replied. “Ts he indeed my enemy? Why is he so?”’ ‘“* T cannot answer.”’ “IT know him well. He is always so pleasant te me. Why I met him but yesterday, and he was as genial as ever.”’ “Then he is a hypocrite!’’ she exclaimed, ‘* for he sought to injure you in a estimation. He has spoKen of you as—”’ she hesitated. “‘Tknow what you mean,” he quietly replied. ‘* He refers to a matter which I have had no occasion to mention to you, thoughI might have been sure some of my kind friends would. Iam a ime ca Miss Andrews, if there ts a shadow of doubt upon my birth. ‘*T know it!” she hastily replied. ‘'I know it well. Far be it from me to permit that to influence me against you. Worth, with me, is better than birth.” Her rapid disclaimer gratified him. er Williamson is a suitor of yours?” ‘* Yes,” was the reluctant reply. ** Not a favored one?” ‘You are asking too much, sir.” “T know he is not,’’ was his eager rejoinder. ‘I know it is jealous spite that is influencing him against me. He knew of your lessons withme. He knew—” he paused irresolutely, then quickly continued, ‘‘ He knew that I loved you! But I cannot help saying that I love you—love you with aes fiber of my be- ing, every pulse of my soul! And if the prison cell should await me I would there with you in my soul, yielding the luster of a heaven to the bayest dungeon walls.” She made no answer, but suffered her hand to rest in his forseveral minutes, her face pale and with a scared look. Then an expression of resolution came upon it, and she firmly said : ! ‘‘ While your foes are striving to crush you is not It was bee —_—_——_—— ———_ —— ————_ the time for your friends to desert you. YesI can- not speak now. I can only aor that I am not deeply perme at — bens mee 8 h é rose and quietly departe © acco her to the door with a face of supreme coe” But we must leave Mr. Spencer for the present and return to the parlor where Mrs. Milton bas just an- nounced herself to the two detectives. bry A be somewhat startled on ete ay on Re their y-visitor was, partway as it tly occurred to their minds how a ny yee they were with the information she was likely to desire. “T did not suppose that you would know of my in- quiries,"’ stammered Will Frazer, ‘or that you would come to Philadelphia on so ey ey a hope.’ “*T would go to the ends of the earth on as sight a hope,’’ she responded, with deep feeling. ‘I heard of the a bad oa that were being made. I made your agents tell me their purpose. I learned from them that they were employed by you, and that they person knew rs ere were hopes of the recovery of my dear, lost son. Ob, sirs! can hed wonder that Ihastened here? I that love him with a pea ee Jove! 1 that have mourned him as worse an “But you know something? You can help me to some clew?’’ was her eager interruption. Will Frazer cast a look of angry warning at Jack, as if he would have said: ‘You are entirely toe communicative. You should have helped me work up this case and made what there isin it.” “We are wor in this matter for another party. he declared. ‘‘You must be aware, Mra. ilton, that the story of your loss has been widely known. There may be many seeking to take advan- tage of your desire to find your lost son. most tive evidence should be accepted.” “TI know that,” she somewhat impatiently an- swered. ‘‘ The efforts you speak of have been mada And yet I have a feeling, an impression, that this time the true claimant will arise. The very air seems to me full of the presence of my lost son. I know that he is to be restored to me.” “T sincerely hope so," said Jack. ‘I am given to et told me nothing. You know “Yet we shall have to ask you to wait a few a put in Will, with a sign to Jack, which the latter no eyes to see. “ We are working up the case. We wrote to Boston simply to know if our investigations were worth continuing.” **Could you doubt it? But you know not hew I loved, how Ihave mourned my son. I am rich, I can well reward those who help me. ‘We are not working for money, Mrs. Milton,” said Jack, in utter disregard of all Will's looks, “ There is a hed who employed us to write that letter. He is not here at present, nor do we have the most remote idea where he is. It may be a week before we see bim. In the meantime we are qaiite ignorant of his purpose in writing.” “Ts he so secretive?"’ she asked, disappo' “He is buta boy. But he is a boy that himself in keeping his own secrets and in his own es."’ ** And I must wait, then?” “Tt cannot be avoided,” replied Jack. f{ any idea how much the oy really knows. Be kind enough to leave us your address. We willeom- municate with you as soon as we have seen him.” “T am stopping at the Continental. But I shall come and see you every day. I shall not be able to endure waiting to hear from you. o is this lad that knows so much; and that is able to employ ex- perienced detectives?” The two officers looked at each other, while a comical smile passed between them. “You would be surprised to see him,” repoutes Jack. ‘He is a veritable street gamin. ow he learned anything about this matter the Lord knows. But he is just as sharp as a steel-trap, I would rather trust him than most men,” “TI must wait then,” she sighed, rising. “I had hoped more from this interview. I hoped too much, tae The ill of a life-time is not to be cured in a day.” The old sad lines returned about her re whence they had been driven by her energy hopefulness. “Be sure we will do all we can, Mrs. Milton,” de- clared Jack, as he saw her to the door, and closed carefully behind her. Will Frazer’s eyes were full of the fire of vexatinn, as he looked up at his quiet-spoken associate. ‘* Well, I never saw you display such lack of mother “Nor have wit before,” he angrily exclaimed. case this, that might have had hundreds of dollars in it, thousands, perhaps; and to be flung away by the sharp-wit Jac ‘Bounce, as if it were an apple- woman’s trouble. “There are emotions and misfortunes before which even a detective must grow human. osrwe myself be anything more than fuily honest with that poor mother, with twenty years of mownn- ing for her lost child, worn like a cloak of sadness about her, I would jump into the Sehuylkill, and put an end to Jack Bounce, at one bounce, That is my answer, Will.” Will had no answer to make, but seemed full of deep thought. Meanwhile, Mrs. Milton went slowly down-stairs. a ag ————
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j t Near the bottom of the stairs she met a young gen- tleman coming g up. She lifted her head in a heavy manner, and en- countered a pair of brown eyes fixed cornet © ae her. A strange feeling affected her as she loo ea erly into the face before her. t was unknown to her, yet there was something that set her brain in a whirl which it had not known for many days. Who was it? To whom did those eyes belong? she asked herself continually, as the _ handsome face Pt hotographed itself on her brain, like t a picture from the far past. And Harry Spencer Pent up the stairs with a feel- ins like that of the mariner, who has caught a fleet- limpse of A. ct Fortunate Islands, on which fate orb him to lan CHAPTER XXI. DICK’S CAT GETTING OUT OF THE BAG, Mr. Wr1aMson was taking a quiet stroll in Chest- nut street that same afternoon when his quick eyes encountered a face that gave him a sudden start. He looked again keenly into the fine but sad woman- ly features before nim. He then quietly turned away. ‘*She here!” he said to himself, in deep rise. “What could have brought her from Boston? I can think of but one cause: some new illusion about her son.’ He followed her until he saw her enter the Conti- nental Hotel. “So far well, ” he thought. ‘She is safe for the cBegaent,. but I' must know what her object is. She cannot be on the true track! I wish Parker was here now. I must write to himat once. And now I bad best see Mother Shipton.” This resolution was suddenly cake’. pene he turned with a rapid step to execute it. harp as he as he was, he had failed to observe two sites Ww. watched the whole by-play of his recent oe: ments. One of these was Ned Hogan, with his sign hung out in the shape ot bis inevita le meerschaum. The other was Dick Darling, as well marked by a eculiar feature of his attire. The frequent wet- ngs his new suit had received had proved too much for its powers of resistance. It had shrunk upon him until now the clothes seemed a part of his skin, and the unsolved mystery was ay he had got into them, and how he was ever going to get out of them. Dick could not have answered himself, as he had not been out of his clothes since his last two dips overboard, ‘Now’ s our time,’ he said, quickly. “That cove’s my game. Wish I knowed who the woman was. Let's arter him; there’s somethin’ afloat.” ““Who is he, Dick?’”’ asked Hogan, anxiously, he followed the eager boy down the opposite si e of the street to that pursued by Williamson. “ He's the bit of bacon that I've got in my Woke barrel, and that I'm going to salt Hogan, but I kalkerlate I'll soon own this c e one of the men whom you fancy to og con- nected with the counterfeiting business?” “Yes. And with another bizness that’s about as deep and wide, It’s gettin’ ripe. I'll be to knock my apples off the tree in a day or two.” “T hope you are not making a fool of me, Dick,” warned Hogan, doubtfully. “If you are, I'll be burst if I don’t smash my pipe over your head.” “ All right, Ned Bogns. I'll give you some p'ints before half-an-hour that mought open your eyes. Did you ever see sich a fit as them trowsers?” Dick indeed had some trouble in his locomotion. at ey ae as he looked down at the boy’s at- en How are $0 ever going to get. them off, Dick?” “That's what's a-troublin’ me,” confessed Dick, dubiously. “’Feared Pll nave to be melted down and run Pathe them.”’ They had now kept within full view of Williamson Sd several The streets here became less ee and they found it paeuse to fall er back, barely keeping him in tar We are on the track of somethin’, announced Dick. ‘I've followed this cove twenty times afore, and I’ve noticed whenever he’s on some py on lay, he’s jist as cautious as a fox. Look how he his neg goin’. He cotched me once at it. Bet he dowt iy were now in a very disreputable part of the =e a There were here a number of small streets for the horrible filth and iniquity of their : inmates the leprous spot in a great city. Williamson turned quickly into one of these side streets, after glancing warily around. His two pursuers ran rapidly forward to the corner of the street in which he had disappeared. He was just entering a tumble-down frame house _—or hut would be a better name—about half-way down the street. “You stay here, Dick,” said Hogan. “I will find out who lives there e advanced and entered into conversation with the officer who had charge of this unpleasant beat. It was ten minutes before he returned. “Tl swear I don’t know what a well-dressed man like him wants in such a hole,” he averred. “ Mebbe J know who lives there!” answered Dick. “Oh, an outrageous old crone, whom the folks in these parts christen Mother Shipton. She makes her money by or generally by sending some baby out to whine for her. She is said to be ae short of a new baby, if one happens to drop ° ‘““Then she’s my meat!’ cried Dick, a oyeuny “Tt’s a hundred-dollar job we’ve struck Tl let you inter what I’m arter soon, Hogan. Sist take another short walk with me.” ed grew somewhat restive over Dick's persistent Detective Dick. mysteriousness. But he was excessively anxious to | know what the boy was after, and Dick would not let out a word; so he perforce ‘accompanied him. Their way led now to Arch street, and ended at | | the hotel patronized by the government detectives. ““Misters Bounce and Frazer in?” asked Dick, in | his independent manner, of the clerk. “T don’t answer. ‘‘ You might find them in their room.”’ before.”’ | decla: know,” was that individual’s short | —,. “You folks oughter be good judges of writin’. Put that and that together, and see what you make | of them,” He pushed an open letter beside the envelope. The officers bent closely over them for a minute. “They are undoubtedly the same ing Jack, in a ene manner. ‘There is no | attempt at disguise “There was in ihe. ‘etter, though,” said Dick. “Come ahead, then, Hogan. I’ve blazed the way | **S’pose he bah nobody 'd save an old envelope. ‘* Who are these men, Dick?”’ asked Hogan, as they ascended the stairs. ‘*A brace of government chaps. You oughter | know them.”’ ** But what do on want with them?” “Why you don’t kalkerlate I kin put all my jobs through with oaet Got too much bizness on hand for that. Things is gettin’ re Hogan; that’s ) why I’m goin’ to interduce you. ant you now.’ Before Hogan could ask any more questions, Dick had abruptly opened the door = ce parlor in ques- tion, and walked in, a off a close conference between Harry Sp ay and the officers. Back ag’in, you see,’’ was free-and-easy greet- ing. you here.” ote pon you had been back a half-hour sooner,”’ Jack “What for?—but stop jist a minit. Want to inter- duce you to Mr. Edward Hogan. He’s one of Pinker- ton’s—Mr. Hogan, this is Mr. Jack Bounce and Mr. Will Frazer; two gen’lemen in Gore service. Hope you'll know one another. introduction was made with dilo- quence of tone, and a graceful wave of the and. Dick, however, hardly gave them time to acknowl- edge his formal introduction before he was at them again with questions, ““What did you want me for a half an hour ago?” “The Boston party—"’ “There, that will do. Drop it right there,”’ ejacu- lated Dick, with a quick glance at Spencer. Bostin job will keep. *Tain’t that we’re runnin’ now. Got a little pressin’ bizness with you officers. Ain’t interruptin’ you?” he asked Harry. “No. Wewere about through, nf replied the latter, with a smile at Dick’s peremptory manner. ‘* When does that little affair come up?” “What little affair?’ asked Harry, in surprise. “You oughter know, as long as it’s Seer tebsathat little oem bizness.”’ “Oh! my trial? Now, I was ridiculous enough to fancy that a@ matter of some importance. ‘Yes; folks will be ridic’lous,’’ was Dick's **’Tain’t much *longside some jobs I’m run- bs How do, Mr. Spencer? Didn’t 'spect to meet i cool reply. nin’.’ “That ae affair will take place to-morrow,” confessed Ha “The blazes it will!’ was Dick’s energetic answer. * That won’t Ae no how. Can’t a boost her over? Slide her on a few days more? t to have some witnesses for you, bu ain’ t got thera ready yet.” “It might be done,” returned Harry, smiling. “The courts will not stand long over so small a mat- ter. ” “Do ee urtiest,’’ demanded Dick, _meonwite my “You'll find [ ain't infun. I've got the trumps By, hewn to save you from Cherry Hill; but they oan uite ready to play yit.”’ aT shall do my bext, Eitan Dick.” © Senne as the door closed Dick turned to the of- Corse as ciel ceded cudae “tat tent cbaleeaenye ) fice Af ‘tow. let’s hear ’bout a "he said. want er g = Spencer to hear it “ Boston is all ht, * answered Jack. ton has hoon found; and what is more, she is here now, | and anxious’ to have an interview with you.” “That’s the way with wimmen; they’re too cur’us. Why couldn’t she s —— she ‘was sent for? You jist tell Mrs. Milton t I ain’t wisible yit. An’ ser her, if she wants to amuse herself waitin’, she ht *tend the trial of one Harry Spencer aoe “ Didn't: “Mrs. Mil- “The | tone. | | | |e | Didn’t mei Dic. “Go on, Darling was *bout.” Dick. This is getting interesting.” “Got a little story to tell you,” and Dick spread himself before the three curious officers. ‘ You see I knowed Harry Spencer, and when I see’d that let- ter tryin’ to git him snatched, I bet to myself it was writ by one of the gang—one that didn’t like him. Now I happened in a stationery store in Chestnut street, a day or two afore, when a stranger come in to order some paper. He took some envelopes with him that had a curious water mark. I know nied talked a good deal "bout it, and he wanted the baper fe rn kind. Jist hold that envelope ag’in oF see,” said Jack: ‘“‘an eagle with a serpent in “Precise! Wonder if I won't turn out the le and him the snake. When Ned Hogan got the let- ter, Isee’d that the envelope looked like the same; so I ms looked through it, and twigged the eagle and sn “And what followed?” “*T did—I follered to the stationery store, and fol- lered him off with the pee per. He shook me, but I got on a lay that pulled me through. I found he were a friend of Sol Sly, and that he were after the same gal with Harry pencer. And I knowed that jealousy was a reg ‘lar tiger. Been to the theater, and seen Otheller. * And there got your education in jealousy,” sug: ted Jack, with a laugh. bi ‘Got some Pr retorted Dick, in a di nified “Well, I got you to write to that gen’leman | and "point a interview. Only wanted his hand- writin’. That’s it.” And who is Andrew Williamson?” asked Will, his pte full of absorbing interest. He’s a lawyer at Fourth and Walnut. And that ain’t all. He’s head cook of these counterfeiters for else et the cheapest sold Jack that ever went o or a You haseht told all you know?”’ “Not by a jug full. I’m only waitin’ to nail Andy Williamson so tight that the law can’t drag him through. I know the head-quarters of the mg is at Chester. I know he me a package of no Vy ex- press from Chester, which he set adrift on the fharket. And, finerlly, I know jist where the queer stuff is manufactured, and I’m only waitin’ for the king bee a motte: in the hive afore I snatch the whole caboo- le wien had risen to his feet as he approached this ax, and his last sentence was given with a grandiioquent eloquence that would have shamed best of curb-stone orators. = Well, if this is true,” cried Hogan, with excited energy, ‘I'll be hanged if the boy isn’t worth a dozen of us old stagers!”’ e! Got any doubt of it?” asked Dick, appeal- ing to the government officers. As you tell it, Dick, Ifeel as if you are indeed on the travk,” dec Jack Bounce. ’m on it so sound that a dozen locomotives couldn’t knock me off. That’s what I want Spencer’s trial put off for. Want to wait till Williamson goes to Chester, and then Rite f the trap on the whole gang. And I want you three folks, and about half a dozen more, to take a hand in it. Best b bring a few bullets, a e of gunpowder too. It’ll maybe be hot ou what,” put in Will Frazer, quickly, e steam "yacht at the Navy Yard. Ican t che. use of that and its crew.’ “That’s the dodge!” cried Dick, with a joyful in- rfeitin’. Tell her to mag her eyes 0 tonation. ‘Want you to be it this very day. see. ‘if she reckernises oe n the court. — tell what night we a ht want it. When the ** All right,’’ said Jac re ricot hot Pye ve got to strike. And hard, too.” ** And now to biz.” t. Ishall see that itis ready." He hel himself toa chair beside the center- 5 oats now, myo eo said Dick, with a com- table, and deliberately drew several papers from his | ical look at his garments, ‘‘I ain't been in the bosom pocket, which he spread out upon the table. of my family for a week, and ain’t had these gcd “Look at that, Ned Hogan. Ever see it afore?”’ -pra off for ’bout the same time. Want to It Me) the torn euvelope: of a letter he pushed to- od holt ben wer bootjack up bout my w: ward Hogan. see if I can’t peel.’ S Why it is addressed to me,”’ cried the latter. on Those clothes are not fit for you to <a Dick,” “That's so, Know the writin’? “Tt is familiar. Yes, itis the envelope of the let- ter I received from Chester, telling me that Spencer would go there the next ig and have a conference with a red-haired mai is was the first hint of his being connected ad with the counter- feiters. The letter put me on his track. ‘* And the envelope put me on a better track. It was a sharp game they played to send him on a fool’s errand Chester, and you after him; and while he was gone old Sol Sly, of South street, stuffed a pack of counterfeits in his drawers. You see, Itwig the whole game.”’ byw officers looked at each spon with the light of ary eager docragh = their oe And ow Ra model that you say Sol stole?” asked W: ** Got it here,” teal Dick, tapping his pocket. ‘* Worked the traverse on them “Spencer had a lo “conference with the red- haired man at Chester,’ oe an “Know all about hat,” interrupted Dick. “~Pweren’t counterfeitin’. Tell you sometime, soon, what ’twas about,” ‘Very well. Come back to the envelope, then.” I utre agers lared = ar 2 co: ge suggested J Harry 7. as aren ack, after the laugh = subsided. ** Why don't you get a new pair pet mgt a reaponded Dick no i or her end in the clothin’ line,” er pee ‘And money’s kinder run down “Ob! ‘that’s the state of affairs! Here is a ten, ourself to a new rig.” the money with scant thanks, and he departed, leaving the officers in a deep consultation. CHAPTER XXIl. THE SIGNAL GIVEN. Dicx’s desires and Harry Spencer’s efforts were not crowned with success. No reason satisfactory to the court could be given why the trial should be ' as Dick’s true reasons were jewels too ublic. e case was therefore in due order on the day at first named for it. e court-room was well filled, ~ a great deal of public interest had been excited by the mystery of these dangerous counterfeits, so persistent iy placed upon the market. The case for the precious to be given to the ition was very simple. witness, as having nereated | Ned Hogan was the c' ed = + ak i
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iw Spencer and found in his private drawers the pack- age of counterfeit notes which were such serious evidence against him. Then there was the journey to Chester, and the letter which pointed so closely at a guilty connivance with the forgers. Harry’s lawyer had not succeeded in getting all the rebutting evidence he should have had. He had not sought it in the right quarters, and knew nothing of the whereabouts of the red-haired man, who was s0 prominently mixed up in the affair, nor of the temporary arrest of Sol Sly for his strange proceed- ings in Spencer’s house. ogan, of course, was aware of all these facts, but was not at liberty to divulge them while Dick’s plans hung fire, as they at present did. The case was not called till the afternoon session of the court, and would evidently not be finished that day, as the witnesses for the prosecution were examined and cross-examined at great length. During its a Jack Bounce entered, accom- ed by Mrs. Milton, whom he succeeded in help- g toa comfortable seat in the rear portion of the court-room, Near by her was another well-dressed, young-look- ing lady, so deeply vailed that no feature of her face could be distinguished, but who seemed to take an | Sra interest in the prisoner and in the evi- ence. Jack had only partly obeyed Dick's directions. He had not told Mrs. Milton for what purpose he brought her here, simply saying he had been requested to do | 80 by the party who had employed him. He prefer- red to see it she would discover anything without previously formed expectations, But in that crowded room it was not likely that she could aimlessly select any familiar face. She sat looking with little interest on the assemblage, and listened with less interest to the evidence, “Why have you brought me here?’’ she asked, at length, of her escort. This is very wearisome to me.”’ “Tean’t say,” Jack stolidly replied. ‘‘Iam only obeying orders. Look about the room a bit and you may find something to interest you.”’ It was with a sad smile that she followed his di- rections, her eyes wandering in a desultory fashion over the paid diversified faces that made up the audience of the court-room. Jack was listening to some prolix statements, of no possible importance, drawn from a witness by persistent questioning of the ie rod when he felt a sudden, almost fierce, clasp upon arm, and heard a quick whisper in his ear. Who is that?’ The words were given in a sort eas a ere?” he asked, following the direction of her pointing finger. “Phere! behind the railing." “That is pare Spencer, the prisoner, the party who is being tried.”’ “But whois he? His face thrills me with sucha strange feeling! Can it be—’’ she paused, while her eyes eagerly devoured every lineament of his face. “He is a music-teacher by profession,’’ explained Jack. ‘He has fallen into trouble, though I fully believe him innocent.” ‘Innocent! Could guilt rest there?” pointing earnestly to the Ly ae and ingenuous face of the pris- oner. “ But you know more of him. I met him on our stairs yesterday. I felt then that he must be my fost son seem to gaze upon my husband, restored to life and to youth again.’ “T know nothing more,” returned Jack, evasively, *‘and did not dream that he had any connection ven istent whisperi beginning to ann 8 persistent whispering was oy the pot and the crier wea, Hep silence. Mrs. Milton said no more, but she had suddenly acquired the deepest interest in the case, and her eyes continued to rest on the face of the prisoner with a devouring intensity. The hour of three came, and passed, and the case for the prosecution was just ended. Under these circumstances the judge adjourned the court, ivi the defense until the next day to prepare their evi- dence in rebuttal. Mr. Williamson had been in court during most of the hearing of the case, occupying a chair in the pest bedi inclosure, and a deeply interested auditor of the evidence. His keen eyes occasionally rested on the face of the prisoner, with a problematical look. It would have been difficult to. tell, from his pa Sg ee which side of the case he favored. __ © looked frequently at his watch, with a slight show of annoyance, and at length rose and quicklv left fhe room, an hour before the Soares, as if some imperative engagement called him away. Yet there was a look of satisfaction upon his face. “TItis going against him,” he muttered. ‘‘ They cannot overthrow the evidence of those notes. Helen was there. Her vail could not hide her from me. Yet I fancy she cannot continue her infatua- tion for a convicted felon. Harry Spencer has been in my way,in more modes than one. And the ridiculous boy thinks me hisfriend! He little knows that a friend with an interest in your disappearance is tenfold more dangerous than an open foe.” He little knew that a concealed foe was on his own track at that moment. A keen-looking boy had lett the court-room immediately behind him, with a look of equal satisfaction with his own. “It's ripenin’,”’ he thought, with a confident air. “The fox don’t leave his goose ’cept there’s some- thin’ mighty stirrin’ in the air. Bet high he’s streak- in’ for Chester; and he don’t go down there only on one bizness. It'll be queer we don’t carry off Harry Spencer on our shoulders to-morrow.” And Dick followed his prey with all the keenness of a sleuth-hound, no daahie or turn sufficing to throw him from the trail. ee Detective Dick. 17 The court-room was nearly emptied ere Mrs, Mil- ton could remove her eyes from the face which had so deeply engrossed her. She turned away with a deep sigh, and left the room, accompanied by her esco | | rt. “What will they do with him?” she quietly asked. * Will they send him to prison?” There was deep feeling in her quiet voice. “They cannot, since they have accepted bail for his appearance,’’ answered Jack, though not at all sure in his mind whether the alderman’s bail- bond would be respected by the court at this se. ious | stage of the case. ney had not gone far before he was arrested by the touch of a trembling hand upon his sleeve. He turned to behold a deeply-vailed lady. “Will you ly asked, ‘I know so little of such matters, evidence against him?’ “*So far it looks so,”” “Tt is all very dark tome. It seems terrible.” “You have heard but one side, Miss Andrews,” } lease tell me your opinion?”’ she timid- Is the said Jack, kindly. ‘‘In court business you can only | iy lo a both sides have been heard. I hope for e Mig | Yet there was a shadow of anxiety in his tone which he could not conceal. | “Who is this lady who is so deeply interested | in the accused?’ asked Mrs. Milton, | “Miss Andrews, a youn may friend of his,” answered Jack. ‘Miss Andrews, let me make you | acquainted with Mrs. Milton, a Boston lady who is here on a very important errand.” “‘T am in search of a iong-lost son,” explained “T know not what, but there n the accused that has stirred my soul more deeply with hope than aught I have met in the whole twenty acer of my bereavement.”’ | Helen looked with interest on the saddened face | of the mother, as she threw back the thick vail which had concealed her own features. eethere is some mystery about Mr. Spencer’s were Me gr Mrs. Milton looked with an intense glance into the sweet, eager, beautiful face before her, now lit up with such a hopeful earnestness, “Can it be?” she cried. ‘‘Oh! I know, I feel that it is! He is—he must be—my dear, my long-lost n “T hope it may prove so,” answered Helen, in nee iiiest tone. “I know nothing of his early Jack’s attention was at this moment called by an- Mrs. Milton, ayaa is something she cried, eagerly. ‘‘He knows not who other touch upon hisarm. It was the small, shrewd | face of Dick Darling that now appeared at his oulder, but full of an eager light. “*Tell Will Frazer to fire up the yacht instanter /” he commanded, in a deep whisper. ‘The music’s oin’. The fox has headed for his hole, and it’s ut time the hounds were out. You must be on ~ rivet by dark. If things go right we'll bag the whole he “ That’s good news! One minute, Dick.” He turned to the ladies, who had entered into an ted conversatio: anima tion. “Tt is all right,” he said, joyfully. “Hi Spencer will be cleared. We ave evidence to- morrow morning, if all goes well, that will utterly turn the tables on his enemies.” “Ohl I Lo it may prove so!"’ cried Helen, with hands, c “Say not a word of this; particularly not to Mr. Williamson, if you should see him. A word might defeat all our plans.” ; “Do not fear, sir. You can depend on my si- ence."’ “ Better depended on his own,” muttered Dick, discontentedly. ‘‘I don’t like young folks, ‘ticu- larly young wimmen folks, brung into bianess of mine.” wg oh. yh are not such a patriarch yourself, Master Richard,” said Helen, with a musical laugh. “T’ve arnt a thing or two, anyhow. Don’t back down afore most men—I don’t.” “I don’t know but what I had best do something to relieve your suspense, Mrs. Milton,” now an- nounced Jack, in_ a decided tone. ‘This anti- quated young gentleman is our employer in your airs.’ : “This boy?’’ and Mrs. Milton looked with doubtful eyes upon Dick. Yet the young detective never looked better. He was attired in a new, and, for once, a well-fitting suit of clothes. His face had been washed to the point of polishing, and _ it was astonishing what a pntte g butterfly had emerged from a very lain c t Pin This . Milton?” demanded Dick. * 'Yes.”’ “Got some bizness with you, ma’am. Not to-day though. Got too big a job on hand to-day to take in any more work.” “Do you know anything concerning me?” she in- quired, doubtfully. “I trust my hopes have not Been pared in vain. Can you give me any assur- ance ** Guess I know the lay I’m on,”’ answered Dick, a little offended. ‘* Won’t say nothin’ to-day. That's sot. But maybe you’ll reckernise this.” we held up in his hand the medal, with its curious chain. “Great Heaven!” cried the mother, snatching it | from his hand. “Tt is my son’s! Oh, sir! where is he? Take me to him and you shall receive a mother’s deepest blessings.” : ‘They'll keep till to-morrow,”’ announced Dick positively. ‘‘This is a bizness that can’t be put through in a minit, and in a public place like Inde- pendence Square. Come, Mr. Bounce. Our bizness ‘ won’t wait. We must leave the ladies. Mrs. Milton kin keep the medal till lsee her ag’in. Be mighty keerful of it.” “Thank you,” said the deeply affected mother, seizing and pressing his hand warmly. ‘You have given me more happiness than I have felt for a life- ime.” “You kin save you thanks til! to-morrow, Miss Helen,’ suggested Dick. ‘When I git your lover out of his scrape.”’ And the irrepressible boy hurried Jack off, leaving the young lady's cheeks dyed with deep blushes, e will not here enter into the details of the lo conference that ensued between Dick and his trio detectives. Suffice it to say that as a consequence thereof a small, swift steam yacht, known as the Lightfoot, stole quietly out of the Navy Yard at about the hour of nine that evening, and moved slowly down the ver, The moon was not yet up, and would not be until near midnight, and the waters lay daik under the glimmer of a thousand twinkling stars, as the boat lowed her way slowly along, with no evidence of haste in ber deliberate movements. There were on board our three officers, and six or eight other persons, but no trace of Dick wee e night was far advanced toward midnight when they arrived at a point in the river at a short distance above Chester, and slowly steamed up and down, well out from shore, their eyes fixed keenly upon the land. ‘Ain't it high time we were hearing from our scout?’ asked Hogan, impatiently, as a clock on board struck the hour of twelve. “ Dick’s likely waiting to get all his birds in the cage ” Jack explained. half-hour more more passed of this une sus ared onshore a faint flash, as of a match which had been lit and instantly ex- tinguished. Again, and n, the flash broke out. “That's the signal!” cried Jack, joyfully, ** Put her head ashore! In ten minutes more they had all landed on the low wharf at the fisheries, the suddenly wakened fisherman starting up in wonder. “That’s your sort!” cried Dick Darling, suddenly appearing from the gloom, “ Foller me! But as ent as a regiment of mice'” CHAPTER XXIII. A RIG HAUL. Tue silver rim of the moon had lifted itself, a half- hour before, above the dark Jersey horizon, and it now poured its mist-shrouded beams in a faint flood upon the restless surface of the river, and Jit up the fore-ground with a dim luster that brought out all objects in relief. ‘Don’t you be notee yosresnes cried Dick to the fishermen. ‘ 'Tain’t shad we're arter, this time. But maybe one of your nefs mought come in handy, for not to make a haul of big fish; reg'lar sturgeons of fellers. We're goin’ for the ghosts." “ Best keep clear of them,” cried Dick's old friend as the shadowy line of the yacht’s crew filed past, “ They ain’t canny things to play with.” “Oh! don’t you be ‘feared,”’ called back Dick. “Guess we’ve got some med’cine here that'll cure the old house of its bad sperits.”’ pense and then thereap Cautiously the dark line moved toward the desert- ed mansion, which rose, magnified by the faint moonlight, ke a dun castle upon their path, ‘Got them bagged,” whispered Dick to the officers. ry) whole caboodle. Been on the watch ever since The portal of the haunted house was reached, The empty rooms glowed with a forbidd look u the intruders. It appeared indeed as if hobgob might select this place as one suited to their natures oa i which they might pursue their revels undis urbed. After some last whispered directions to hig fol- lowers, the chief of which was an injunction to si- lence and to be ready with their weapons, Dick led the way forward. The rooms were too dark for strangers to make their way with the caution necessary, and the light of a dark-lantern was flashed forward along the hall, illuminating the narrow track along which they were slowly creeping. “Careful!’? whispered Dick. ‘Here's the stairs we're to godown. They're slippery. Put your feet down hard, but not noisy.” He led the way as silently asa s cter. In fact, if any of the occasional visitors to e ghost-ridden mansion had been now present, they would have vowed they saw a host of its uncanny inmates, eas onward like shadows, without the sound of a footfall. The cellar reached Dick grew doubly cautious, © Marshaling his hosts he enjoined them to have their . weapons ready, and then led them into the dark | alcove in which lay the door to the secret room. Taking the lantern he searched along the wall in | ‘ which he had seen the door opened. seemed all alike, a series of REN aanaced stones, wih mor- - tar between. The door was so deftly made that no one without previous reasons for suspicion would have deemed that it was a mere imitation of the wall before which Dick now paused. There was a slight line run ing irregularly up and down between the apparent layers cf stone, to all appearance an old crack in the wall. But the shrewd boy who now stood before it had the best of reasons for knowing better. M a sign of caution and readiness to his followers, he k a short crawbar from the havds of the nearest ofthe men. He then clused the lantern and handed it back to the same man. They were now in almost utter darkness, Silence.
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18 too, twin-born with darkness, reigned around them. Yet now there was a faint sound that seemed to come through the wall, a sound no more obtrusive, except to sharpened senses, than was the excessive- faint suspicion of moonlight that penetrated to t gloomy depths. alert ears were startled when Dick, with the end of the bar, gave two slight knocks upon the con- cealed door. All remained silent. Even the faint sounds they had heard ceased to be audible. Again he signaled; this time with four knocks ven in deliberate succession. So far there had not a particle of itive evidence to Dick’s fol- lowers that they had not been made fools of. They had seen nor heard nothing definite, and only had his story to base their faith upon. Yet they were worked up with expectation of some striking denouement, worked up more by his mystery aod caution, and the excitement to which the present surroundings had wrought them, than by any satisfactory knowledge. doubtfulness was rv! vA dispelled. From within the wall, in answer to Dick’s second signal. came the faint sound of two blows, as audible as a pistol-shot would have been to their acute senses. Dick’s reply was with two similarly given blows. A moment’s silence. Then the tones of a voice were heard. It seemed to come through miles of earth, so faint and far-off was the sound. Yet the words were perfectly distinct. “Who goes?” * Siloam,’’ answered Dick, with his lips close to the door. The next moment there came a kind of crackli sound. A line of am broke through the-apparen crack in the walls. The mysterious door was thrown half-open, letting out a sudden flash; and re- vealing to the eyes of the observers a number of hu- man forms within a well-lighted room beyond. There followed a quick exclamation, and ah effort to close the door. But Dick had his crow- bar inserted in the opening, and the closing portal eaught on the cold iron. “Quick! Take hold!” cried Dick, with abrupt en- orgy, They may have some other way out.” half-dozen hands caught the y open door, flinging it open 30 suddenly that the man who had been holding it from within was flung abruptly out against the opposite wall. he scene within was a striking one, It was a room of some twenty by ten feet in dimensions, a portion of it being occupied by a table, which was covered by engraver’s tools, with steel me finel cut, and with quantities of printed bank-notes. In another portion was a hand —— machine; in an- other a small forge. In fact, every necessary detail of their nefarious business surrounded the of men, who had mary: 2 in startled surp: at this abrupt invasion of their domain. Several oil-lamps depended from the ceiling, their light shining on faces pallid with sudden fright. And well might they be, for they looked into the muzzles ef a dozen revolvers, and into as many resolute faces behind them. ‘“*At them, men! ‘Fire on them! Burst through them!” cried one of the counterfeiters, a handsome, determined-looking man. “On your lives, don’t be captured!” ) gprung to the side of the room, out of sight of the officers. ‘At them!” yelled Dick. “Give them a dose of bullets to learn them sense! Dash for them afore Rey kin fire!” e dashed forward himself, flourishing his crow bar, and followed by the —— of a number of pis- to)s, whose bullets pattered warningly against the opposite wall. e counterfeiters were too much taken by sur- @ to bein a position for self-defense. The door- eeper was already captured. Two or three of the others drew pistols, and with oaths sprung forward. But Dick’s followers had crowded resolutely after him into the room. They were two to one of the forgers. Before the latter could make any concerted movement for defense, they were surrounded and seized by stalwart men. veral more less shots were fired, yet the whole affair had passed so omen Meee the criminals had not time to recover m their surprise. Scarce a minute had ela since Dick’s inserting his bar in the opening of the door until they were in the hands of their greatly outnumbering antagonists, who lost no time in se- binding their dangerous captives. **How’s this?” cried Dick, suddenly. six fish in the pond, and there’s only four in the net. Where’s Andy Williamson and Cap. Parker?” ‘ Williamson?”’ asked Jack Bounce. “ Yea, that’s the chap that toldthem to fight. And he’s cut stick hisself.”’ Dick looked hastily around for means of escape. “ Here it is!” cried oneof the men, “Up the big aeiganey bere! There's a ladder in it.” ‘* By thunder, that’s so!’’ yelled Dick. ‘ Out with you! Tumble out! Roll out! If they git away, mek be the cheapest sold coons ever brung to mar- et.’ Dick set the example by dashing into the outer cellar, and going up the stairs three at a step. He was followed closely by the others, except such as had charge of the prisoners. But quick as they had been the fleeing criminals had been quicker. They had already esca’ from the house, and were dimly visible in the misty mocanent about two hundred yards off across the “ After them!" cried Ned Hogan, eagerly. ‘‘ We ean catch them yet!”’ “You can’t do it,” eried Dick. ‘“ Back! all of ou, Let Hogan follow them. We've better fish to Ty: 7 up “There was Detective Dick. ‘*What do you mean?” exclaimed Will Frazer, in harsh revolt from Dick’s leadership. “T mean this,” returned Dick, decidedly. “I'm runnin’ this machine, and I know what’s what. Do you s’pose you could beat them to Chester? You couldn’t do it. There they’ve got the yacht Molly, and ‘ll be off shore quicker’n greased lightnin’. How’ll ye ketch them then? Swim for them, hey?’ ‘*What better?” asked Will, sternly. ‘“What’s better? Why, thesteamer. Hogan’s the chap for them if ne try to double in Chester. He’ll get vod enough. The steamer’s our game,” “Right as a trivet, Dick,” put in Jack, slapping him heartily onthe shoulder. ‘‘ Put your prisoners “Jist so. Let . Frazer and one or two men stay here, and look after the plunder. The rest of us—”’ ‘3 ‘Will take to the Lightfoot, and then, hey for the Molly!” cried Jack. Dick’s ideas were at once putinto effect. The pris- oners were brought up and secured on board the steamer. Will Frazer willingly aged ‘to the oo of the ae yp marked out for him by Dick. The others hurried on board. The moon broke clearly from her mi vail, and poured a strong light upon the rippling river, as the steamer moved out into the broad stream. | With a full head of steam, the light craft made rapid head ay down the river, keeping close in shore as the channel would admit. They were yet a quarter of a mile above the Ches- ter pier when they saw what appeared in the moon- light a great-winged bird, wheel suddenly out into eo stream, and commence a rapid flight down the ver. “It’s the Molly!” announced Dick excitedly; “and she’s got jist her wings. Let out, lads. Burn rosin, or coal ile, if wood wou't answer.’ In avery few minutes they swept past the head of Chester pet. A solitary, dark fgure stood there, looking out upon their approach. “That you, Ned?’ called out Jack. - ds ay!’’ came from the hoarse voice of Hogan. ‘That’s the Molly?” “ Ay! ay!’’ **Our game abroad?”’ “Yes: dried and salted! Go for them. If you ee back short-handed, put your own heads in pickle.’ ‘We'll fetch them, or burst!” cried Dick, energeti- cally, as they swept rapidly past the pier. And now in utter silence the chase continued, the swift-moving steamer rapidly clo: up the distance between the two yessels. e Molly made a brave effort to escape, loading herself with sails until she bowed deeply before the rising wind. But she was far overmatched in speed, and it was not many minutes before the dark prow of the steamer forged rapidly up upon her quarter. Until then deep silence had been preserved on both sides. Nowa stern voice came from the deck of the Molly. “What do you mean by this chase? Draw off, or it will be worse for you!” “Nary draw,” came from Dick’s saucy lips. ‘* Back water, or I’]l fire!” “Fire and be blowed!’’ was Jack Bounce’s ener- getic rejoinder. The speaker was as good as his word. A bullet ranged the deck of the steamer, fortunately doing no damage. In a minute more the two vessels were firmly oheger together by means of boat-hooks. “Now we'll answer * a shot!’ cried Jack, as he leaped aboard the Mo Mik e tall form of Williamson confronted him, pis- | tol in hand, and a dangerous look in his eye. He took a quick aim and pulled the trigger. It would have fared ill with Jack Bounce at that moment but that a light form had leaped on board beside him, and threw up the pistol-arm of the des- perate man, The bullet sped far above the head of the officer. Before the shot could be repeated Jack's stalwart fist had struck the villain a square blow in the face. He went down like an ox before the ax of the butcher. Cap. Parker rushed to the defense of his associ- ese ut only to find himself in the hands of vigor- ous foes, There was a moment's severe struggle, for Joe Turner and the crew of the yacht rushed with hastily-seized weapons to the aid of their leader. Williamson, too, had risen on his elbow and was again leveling his Pcie ““At them, lads!’’ shouted Dick. ‘‘ You back down, brick-top, or it’Il be wuss for you. I owe you | one, Cap. Parker.”’ And with a quick, skillful trip, the .agile a knocked Parker’s legs from under him. He f heavily across Williamson, knocking the pistol from the villain’s hands, “That's your sort!” | | elled Dick. ‘Tie them, every critter of them! t them with their friends aboard the Lightfoot,” This advice was speedily followed, Williamson submitting in sullen silence. In five minutes more the two vessels were put about, and headed up the moonlit river, CHAPTER XXIV, DICK’S EVIDENCE. Ir was the day succeeding that in which such stir- | ring and important events had occurred. The trial | of Hares Spencer had been resumed, and had gone on for an hour with a rather lame line of defense. | The vailed acy auditor of the pecrions day had re- | sumed her position, and was a deeply-interested lis- tener. to the somewhat’ prolix. case, the lawyer ekeing out the thinness of his testimony by a multi tude of questions. At this stage of the case the door of the court- room opened, and three or four men pushed them- selves into the already crowded room, One of these made his way to the legal inclosure. At that moment the counsel for the defense was un- occupied, the opposite lawyer having taken up the witness. The stranger, who was no other than Jack Bounce, sat and whispered eagerly for several minutes with the lawyer. e latter lost all interest in the cross- questioning, and his face lit up with a new light. “That will do,” he said to the witness, just re- leased from the badgering of the Commonwealth's attorney. He turned and spoke to the crier, whose voice | ej through the court-room: é ** Solomon Sly!” There was @ movement near the door of the court- room, andthe attenuated form of the Jew could be seen slowly making his way to the witness stand. He was somewhat pale, and his hand trembled as he laid it upon the railing. Jack Bounce fixed his eyes upon him with a stern glance, which seemed to hold the witness in awe. After the preliminary questioning, the question was asked: ‘“Were you not alone in Mr. Spencer’s house on the afternoon of April 4th?” “T called to see him,’ said the witness, reluc- wer “He was not in.”’ ‘* Were beg left alone in the parlor?” “Yes, the girl thought he might be in soon.” “ How did you occupy yourself while there?” ‘Looking over a book,’ responded the witness, hegiieuneyy. “Sp lainly, sir; you will save yourself from worse trouble hereafter. Did you remain in the parlor?” “No, sir,” protested the witness, growing still er. ‘Where did you go?” “To a small room that had a bookcase and desk. It seemed used as an office.” ‘“What did you do while there?” The witness hesitated and stammered. Heseemed unable to speak. Jack Bounce transfixed him with the keen light of his eyes. * Did you put anything in the desk?’’ ** Yes,” stammered the witness. “What was it?” “A kage of papers.” “Or of counterfeit bank-notes?” “Teannot say. I did not examine it.” “For what purpose was it put there?”’ “T was ordered to do so.”’ “By whom?”’ The witness again hesitated. Jack Bounce spoke rapidly for a moment with the eh ey “That will do,’ he said, suddenly, turning to the witness. ‘“‘ You may go down now; but remain in the court. You will probably be wanted again.” The deepest interest was now manifested in the ease. These few answers had put such a different aspect upon it that it was evident to all that the ac- cused was the victim of a conspiracy. “ Richard Darling!” called the crier. ** Here,” echoed a distant voice, and the smell form of Dick could be seen making his way to the witness stand. There was considerable surprise felt by those eae coe at the unusual course taken by the counsy! or the defense. To have sucha witness as Solomon Sly in his hands, and to suddenly drop him at the very commencement of his testimony, must have been done for some important reason; and the evi- dence of the next witness was eagerly waited for. Dick came up with his peculiar walk, which wis not quite a swagger, yet was full of the spirit of in- dependence. Will you swear or affirm?” asked the clerk, ** Ain’t much given to swearin’,” declared Dick. “S pose I mought strain a p’int this once.” e oath was administered amid a restrained dis- position to laugh in the audience. ‘“ What is your name?” asked the lawyer. **You oughter know. That feller jist sung it out. Don’t sign myself with my arene name much, though. I’m generally Dick Darling!” - ere do you reside?” ‘* Where do I hang out, do you mean? ‘Most any- where. A cellar door’s a comfor’ble bed this hot weather. AndI pick up my vittals indiscriminate.’ “ But you have some home. I wish the street and number of your residence.”’ “Tt is home where the heart is,’’ replied Dick. ‘“‘ Mine’s "most anywhere where there’s a bit of fun or a free fight.” “Keep the witness to the point,’’ admonished the udge, impatiently, as a suppressed laugh broke out the room. ‘‘ We want none of this cheap fun.” ‘* Hope you don’t call a free fight cheap fun,” cried Dick, in a tone of bres aon “The last one I tried on was jist the dearest bit of fun I ever dug into.” After some more of this sparring they at last suc- ceeded in gene the important fact concerning Dick’s residence. “Tf we go on at this rate,” averred the judge, ‘we will be all day with this witness. He must answer more directly.”’ “All right, Judge,” said Dick, contritely. “‘ Wait till he gits down to solid bottom in his questions, and I kalkerlate you'll find me as direct as a streak of lightnin’.” ‘“'™at will do, sir. Let me have no more imperti- nent answers,” frowned the jud Dick had wit enough to know that it was advisable
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/ now to hold his e. He waited in silence tho next question of the lawyer. “Do you know the prisoner at the bar?” “Know Mr, Spencer? ReckonIdo. He's jist the bab oath § cages ever oll nif 1e jury what you know concerning eounterfeit notes found in his house."’ “T know it’s a blamed fraud.” “That is not a proper answer, I wish you to state any definite meg) op may know about them.” *Bout who? 6 counterfeiters?” “Do you know anything about them?” asked the lawyer, quickly. “'Nouzh to hang them, if it was a hangin’ bizness.” “Do Lunderstand you that you know the names of any of these forgers?” There was considerable interest manifested as Dice« addressed himself to reply. “That's "bout what I’m tryin’ to make you under- | stand,’ he said. “I lnow the names of the whole g. Ikin p'int you out where all the queer stuff Gremntiitachired. And what’s wuss, I kin tell where the whole durned tribe of them are this minute.” The judge himself started on his seat in surprise at this announcement. A murmur of excitement ran round the circle of auditors, “That is just what we are all anxious to know,” declared the lawyer. ‘* Where are they.” ““S pose the judge knows,” suggested Dick. “‘No, sir; but I should be very glad to know,” was the udge’s reply. “Thought it mought have worked out by this time. The whole rascally caboodle of them are in Moyamensin’!”’ © boy’s manner was dramatically impressive as he gave this answer. But the unlooked-for state- ment needed nothing to mxke it impressive. “But this is impossivls!’’ cried the prosecuting at- torney, inasharp tone. ‘‘ What does the boy mean by such an astounding statement?” “Wait till I git inter yovr hands,” said Dick, sar- eastically. ‘‘Maybe you kin twist me inter a He. I know you'lltry your hardest: you wouldn’t bea law- yer ou didn't try to make a witness both a fool and_ a liar. “Does any one here know if what the boy says is true!’’ demanded th» judge. “It is true,’ replied Jack Bounce, ‘They were locked up within the last hour.” “But how is this? I pos cage the operations were stilla mystery. When an by whom wore they dis- eovered and captured? Who are they?” “fhe witness can answer as well as I—better for that matter,’’ responded Jack. “What do you know about this important cap- ture?’’ demanded the lawyer, of Dick. “T war there!” “You saw them captured?” “Rockon I took a hand in it.” “Relate to the court the whole circumstances,” The audience in the court-room crowded densely around the railing, mouths and ears open, eager to swallow the exciting particulars of this astounding statement, But Dick’s modesty stood in the way of any direct answer to this question, and he evaded the subject by saying: “*Tain’t them that’s on trial now. It’s Mr. Spen- eer. Ax what you please "bout him, and I’m on hand, Ain’t ready to go outside of the case.” “But who are these men that are captured?” **There’s a set of third-class rogues and one first- elass rascal,” responded Dick, a com ef “Guess the first-classer isthe only chap that’s got anything to do with this bizness before the court. He’s tha one that’s down on Harry Spenc?r, and that hired old Sol Sly to stuff hisdrawers with counterfei.s,”’ ** Will you give his name?”’ “It’s Andy Williamson, the lawyer.” The exclamations this time were confined to the lawyers, but they were deep and Jongc ntinued. Or not entirely confined to the lawyers, for there was one low, distressed cry of thatincisive character that makes itself heard above all other sounds. It seemed to come from the vailed lady who sat on one aide of the room, and whose hands were clasped in nervous agitation. “This is an outrage!’’ cried the prosecuting at- torney, excitedly rising. ‘‘ Mr. Williamson is in hon- orable standing in this court. Itis not right to let this boy run on with such ridiculous per] uries.”* “*Reckon I swore to it!” averred Dick. ‘‘ Somehow the truth is allers ridic’lous to ne lawyers. You don’t want truth, A good sound lie pocerally suits you better’n any thing else but a big fee. That's our lay every time. But you’ve got ter swaller th nov, whether yer likes it or not. Andy Wil- liamson’s in quod, whether it gives you the tooth- ache or no.”’ “When were these men captured, and by whom?” asked Spencer's counsel “We sprung the trap on them last night,” an- nounced Dick. ‘Three detectives, your humble servant, and a lot of fillin’-in folks, e burst open their den, got all their tools, and snatched the rascals to the tune of half a dozen little rogues and one big “* Where was this den?” “Ain’t this kinder sailin’ in outside waters?” asked Dick. ‘‘There’s Mr. Spencer in a place where he ain't A noright. Jest put through job first. These other trifles kin wait.”’ “Trifles, then, you think them?” “They’re not to the p’int, nohow. You can b back Sol Sly now. reckon he won’t be ‘fea now te tell what his papers was, and who hired him to put them where he did. When that’s done you «ay M@ve our lied-on friend a boost out of that box. And then Jack Beunce here kin tell you the whole hiemess,”? This individual was quite crestfallen at the turn events had _ taken, and well disposed to turn State's evidence. He acknowledged now that he had re- ceived the package from Williamson, and that he believed it contained counterfeit notes, After asking the protection of the court, he pro- ceeded to make a clean breast of his connection with | the forgers,and how he had been engaged by them as one of the distributors of their counterfeit money. He knew nothing further of their operations, and knew none of the gang except Williamson, who had kept himself well supplied. t this juncture, without taking further evidence the attorney for the defense rested his case, and gave it in a short but strong speech to the jury. The latter body did not leave their box, and need- ed but a minute’s consultation to pronounce the prisoner “not guilty.” There was a moment of excited whispering in the room, and faces and hands of warm sympathy were extended to Har Spencer as he left the dock a free man, after his most perilous struggle with a dark conspiracy against him. He proceeded as rapidly as wes me friends woul rmit to the place occupied by the vailed lady. ere he seated himself, taking her hand in an earnest clasp, and whispering a few words in her ear, which she seemed to return with equal earnest- ness. But a new turn was now given to the attention of the court by the voice of the judge, who asked: * And now that the court stands adjourned from this trial, will Mr. Bounce—to whom we have been referred by our youthful witness—satisfy the curios- ity of us allin giving an account of how these mys- terious rn, hay were captured?”’ “T shall be happy to do so as far as lies in m wer,” answered Jack. ‘‘ Our young friend, Dic arling, knows more about the case than any other rson, as he has all the credit of havi detected he rogues, But I can give you an idea of the affair.”’ All eyes were turned with new interest upon Dick, who occupied a rather prominent position, having coolly seated himself immediately upon the adjourn- ment of the court. Looks were wasted upon our in- dependent youth, however. With his chin in his two hands and elbows on knees, he listened with a sort of careless interest to the account given by the de- tective. Jack made a long but very interesting story of it, rage NS ante up with a warm tribute of complimen to , **S'pose we drop all that,’ said this latter person- age, impatiently. ‘l’ve got a bit more of work cut out for you, Mr. Bounce, afore this thing gits out.” “What is that?” demanded Jack, quickly. “We've only got the makers of this queer money. Now, there’s half a dozen pushers of it in this here town, ’sides Sol Sly. I kin put my fingers on four of them in a minit’s warnin’. Git a force of four or five perlice at wunst, and come with me. There ain't a wey to be lost. Ifthe newspapers git it once, the x's up." ick sprung from his seat as Jack came promptly forward in responses to his summons. On passing from the court he stopped a moment beside Harry Spencer, taking his hand, and saying in a lowered voice: “Meet me at the lady's entrance to the Conti- nental, say "bout three o’clock this afternoon. Don’t miss. There’s bizuess afloat.” Harry had not got over his surprise at ths ap- pointment ere Dick and his confrere were gone. Their raid was successful, Within two hours afterward four others were added to the list of prisoners under arrest. CHAPTER XXV. LOVE WAITS NO MORE. Harry Spencer has somehow found favor in the captious eyes of Mrs. Andrews, It may be because her dau rhter has communicated certain discoveries, or beliefs, respecting the mystery of his birth which have changed her opinion. At all events, she has discovered that business demands her presence else- “ha and hopes that the young people will excuse er. bors excuse her very readily, and seem quite capable of passing an hour pleasantly by their own two sweet selves. ; “To think of that mam having visited me! And of his even daring to make love to me!” she said, with some fierceness of tone. “ And of his double-dealing with me; so fair to my face, and yet so treacherous.” “ But is it not too dreadful to think of?” she cried, shudderingly. ‘‘I cannot but pity the man, despite his crimi actions. That any one I have known should be the inmate of a prison!” “T very narrowly escaped being one,” and Harry edged still nearer. “You did that,” she replied, her warm, young face turning with earnest emotion to him. ‘ But that would have been different!” “In what way different?’ he demanded, his eyes meeting hers with «n entranced glance. “What a queer vein of talk we have drifted into. I scarcely know how. Let us change the subject. Play something, Mr. Speneer.”” And starting up she opened the piano, turning a very reay face away from his eyes. “Oh, one gets tired of old lessons, you know. However, I will try it. Just this once,’ He smiled, and struck the piano, playing a soft prelude to the air. Po sung the first verse over, she remaining ent, “ But I thought you were going to join me?” “T wanted to catch the air, I shall try the next verse with you.” His voice rung out with a full melody, now softene:! and enriched by her sweet tones, till the whole rooin thrilled with music. “* She is as winsome as the summer rose, Ah! false was he that painted love’s eyes blind! The stars are paled when those bright orbs un- close, Love waits no more when love's soft heart grows kind, “Love waits no more!’ The room rung and vibrated with the soft refrain. His eyes met hers with a look that seemed to say that love no more waa blind. He rose suddenly, took her hand, and led her to the sofa, ‘Love waits no more,”’ he repeated, his voice full cf a thrilling earnestness that was instinct with music to her ears. ‘It has waited till tha clouds should pore away and the sun should rise. One cloud still remains, dear Helen, but my love can wait no longer the dear assurance that it is not given in vain,” “There is no cloud between you and me,” she said, laying her soft hand confidin Vy in his. ‘What shall I understand by this?” he cried pas- sionately, their faces so near that her flowing hair brushed his cheek. ‘‘I have not hoped and trusted in vain? My love has met its true response in your heart?” ““Love need wait no more,’ was her smiling an- rae as she turned her face half away to hide a rosy ush, “Ah! that divine old lesson!’ he exclaimed warmly, his arm gliding around her waist, and draw- ing her closer to his side. ‘ Helen, de Helen! you have made me so supremely happy to-day. Look ot me, dear! I cannot to have your eyes turned away.”’ She turned her face, blushes and all, to his, so sweet and warm with love that filled its every line, that it was more by unconscious attraction than by volition that their lips touched and pressed ea: }y other, in yas love’s first, long, clinging kiss, And sti they sat, tender words, warm looks, an! soft kisses eking out that sweet conversing of affeu- tion so stupid to the world at large, so full of divine meaning to the happy couple interested. And thus we leave them, having at last four words to speak what they had long since told ear other in looks and tones—the very under that day’s sun, CHAPTER XXVI. MOTHER AND SON. Ar the appointed hour Harry Spencer was at the spot designated by Dick, the ladies’ entrance to the ontinental Hotel. He had not long to wait. His youthful friend soon hove in sight, accompanied by the detective, Jaek Bounce, “Tam glad to see you,” declared the latter, heart- ily. “Ihave not had an opportunity to congratu- late you on your fortunate ba aa “Yor which I have principally to thank you and our wide-awake young friend here,’ answered Har- ry, gratefully. “You did have a narrer squeak,” admitted Dick. “But bless you, Iwas bound to pull you through. But this ain't to the pint; s’pose we h’ist ourselves up-stairs.”’ “What are we todo there?” asked Harry, euri- vig “Goin’ to call on a lady friend, who’s sorter anxi- ous to know vow.” In a few minutes more they were ushered into the presence of Mrs. Milton, who sat expecting them, Harry turned his eyes with astartof warm inter- est upon the sad, sweet face of the lady before him. hi I not see Wh ae in court yesterday?” he asked. “Yes. I would have been there to-day had I been able. This gentleman has informed me of your fortunate escape from the conspiracy against you.” Her voice seemed to stir new chords of feetinir within his breast. He — slightly pale as he has- tily sat down, his eyes fixed with an eager intensity upon her face. She seemed no less affected by his presence. Her eyes turned ae erp to Dick. “Got the medal I guv ye?” he asked. “Yes,” she replied, producing it, “Why, that is my medal!” exclaimed Harry, im surprise. ‘‘ Where did you pet it?” “That's too long a story to be gone through now,” answered Dick. “I gotit. That’s enough to begin on.” ‘*May I not repeat your question?” came in trem- blin i from the Iaay. ws Where did you get this ™m , “It has always been mine,’’ confessed Harry, with kindling eyes. “I do not remember the time in which I have not had it. I elung to it through all of a hard life.” ** Your life has been a hard one, then?” “Yes. M oy ears were passed in the hands of a dreadtul ol Tpeniai. who used me brutally appiest levels
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—— Stnce I escaped from her I have had a desperate fight with the world. I finally found some good friends, who gave me a start in a more respectable 'e.”’ * And is that.all? Does your memory go no fur- ther back?” ‘““Yes,”’ answered Harry, eagerly. “I have faint memories of an earlier time. I can just recall a large stone house, with pretty grounds around it, in which I must have lived when very young. I re- member, too, a tall, handsome gentleman, and a beautiful lady, dressed in blue silk.” His eyes were fixed upon her face with the earn- estness of awakening recognition. She trembled, laser pale and by turns. She could hardly eep in her chair. ‘Ts there anything more?” she asked, clasping the medal nervously. “Very little,” he replied. *T can just recall a fall from my mother’s arms—I suppose it must have been my mother,”’ he continued, with a ques- tioning look at her. ‘‘ There wasa toy, too, of which Ihave a distinct recollection. It was a black figure in a box, which sprung up on touching a oo sy! still remember the trouble I was in when I let it fall and broke its nose.” She could keep in no longer. The instinctive feel- ing she had entertained had grown assurance. Oh! it is he! my son! my long-lost son!” she cried, in a tone of infinite joy, rising and moving to- ward him with extended arms. ‘I felt it in my soul when I first met you.” ** And I, too, mother!” he cried, with a long, eager dwelling upon the word. He rose, too, with the same irresistible impulse which had moved her. In a moment they were in each other’s arms, the mother clasping him to her heart with a warm embrace, in which all the past oo of her longing love seemed to find expres- on. They stood for minutes thus clasped, looking in- to each other's eyes, murmuring only inarticulate words. “Come, Dick,’’ said Jack Bounce, in a low tone; “we can return again.” “T s’pose so,” reluctantly. The boy’s face was flushed with a warm emotion. He looked positively handsome at that moment. He seemed loth to be drawn away from a new experience in his young life. “Oh! do not go!’’ cried Mrs. Milton, hastily turn- ing. “T have been thoughtless in my love.” We have but a few words to say,” replied Jack. “‘We know you must prefer to alone at resent." Px We will hear you through, at all events,’’ said Harry, smiling with the perfect happiness which had dawned upon him that day. “T have only to say that your child was stolen from you by an old crone, who has been caught in more than one case of child-stealing. Her object has been to sell their fine clothes, and then to make them objects of sympathy in her ng. Dick, here, has fortunately discovered her. have just paid her a visit, and forced her to acknowledge the whole truth.” “Dick is a ** Dick, again!"’ cried Harry, smiling. , ieanéen so much? I very jewel. But how has he never told him my history.” ** You told me enough of it,”’ explained Dick. ‘I knowed what that p to Chester was for. I twigged Williamson's game to git all the p'ints he from eet and then play them off on this Bay. Not all at once, thongb. I took it in, bit by “Tell us all about it," plead Harry. “It must be an interesting story." Dick proceeded to do so, they all listening with at attention to his account of his adventures in e pursuit of moniotse under difficulties. “It wasn’t himself Williamson was working for,” declared Dick. ‘It’s too well knowed who fe is. It was that Cap. Parker, who I s’pose never had no father or mother, and so was open to take on a rich stepmother. I'm glad you escaped taking him in, ma’am, for he’s an out-and-out beat.” Dick expressed this last opinion with such energy as to set them all enaiing: **T do not think he would have succeededivery well, despite all his stolen proofs,”’ averred Mrs. ton. * As for my Harry, here, he has all the proof I need in his face. However, I thank you from my heart for your wonderful success overcoming the i of these villains. I shall never forget what owe you. “Shake hands with me, ma’am,” said Dick, start- ing up. “ Certainly,’’ she replied, with a warm smile, as she offered him her hand, Dick shook it vigorously, his face lighting up with warm enthusiasm, ‘That's pay,” be declared, fervently. ‘‘ Never touched a reallady’s hand afore. Mr. Harry Spen- cer, you’re a lucky feller, that’s all I’ve got tosay. Sich mothers ain’t picked up every day. Come, Mr. Bounce, I guess we’ve bout wore out our welcome.”’ Jack seemed of the same opinion, and followed Dick from the room, after having bidden good-by to the happy parent and child. Despite their interest in what they had heard, the were glad to be alone, and spent an hour of suc communion as comes but once in any one’s life. The mother’s heart, closed by grief for years, opened to the new joy which had dawned upon her life, and her feeling for her new-found son was that .absorp- tion of soul into soul which alone makes a true union of two natures. Harry, too, had so long yearned for a mother’s ve, and had repined so bitterly over the mystery af his life, that bis love bloomed out for his mother LL a Detective Dick. j =4 ee as a flower bursts open its enveloping leaves, and grows at once into perfect bloom. During their long communion many new facts came to his recollection, each one an added proof of hisidentity with the lostson. Mrs. Milton, however, asked and desired no further proof than had already come to her, her faith in and love for her son being of that perfect nature that disdains the shadow of doubt. A knock at the door finally recalled them to recol- lection of the outer world. Harry opened it, ad- ae a young lady, who started back on observ- ng him. a Excuse me, Mrs. Milton,’ she said, ‘‘I was not aware you had company.” “You know this young gentleman, I believe?” and the mother smiled sweetly. “Yes,” answered the young lady, faintly. “He is an acquaintance of mine.” ’ ‘““Her music-teacher,” put in Harry, with like faintness of tone. “He is my son,” and Mrs. Milton spoke with af- fecting earnestness. ‘*Oh! I knew it! I knew it!” cried Helen, eagerly, “T felt thatit must turn out so!” **T did not think you would be so enthusiastic about it.”’ “But I could not help feeling a deep interest in your bereavement. ‘And was that all? Was there no interest in this dear boy’s bereavement?” Helen stammered as she attempted to answer, — away her flushed cheek. “Ask Harry,” she at length managed to say, in a very low tone. *'T am referred to you,” and Mrs. Milton turned to her son. “T have but one answer,"’ putting his arm round Helen’s waist, and kissing the lips that were turned up tohim with an innocent willingness that was beautiful to behold. “T love her, and I know that shelovesme, Should she not be oa interested in me, then, mother?” ‘*T know, and I love her, too, Harry,” said Mrs, Milton, taking the young couple in her arms. I know that we three will be ever so happy, while life lasts, in each other’s love.” CHAPTER XXVII. FINALE. ANnp now that we have followed our characters to the fuli exposure of the villains, and the reuniting of the long parted mother and son, it is but justice to the ers that we detain them no longer over the commonplace lives of completely. happy or thorough- ly unhappy people. It is only those whose lives are well checkered with sunshine and shade who are in- teresting characters in a ag As for winding Mt Dick Darling’s history, why, bless you, as he would say, we have taken him but to the threshold of a life that overflowed with ad- ventures. It would need ten stories like this to tell all that Dick afterward went through in his new vole of detective, and in more or less connection with his ao. of ae a dg ea om eo ie s next public appearance was as witness the gang of counterfeiters. The evidence against them was so direct and conclusive that there was not a shadow of hope of their escape from the pun- ishment they deserved. Dick's graphic once of how he had gradual- ly traced them, excited the greatest interest in the court, and was listened to by Williamson with a look of baffled . He had not been able to conjecture before how his well-laid schemes had been unfolded. Will Frazer was present with the material which he had brought from the haunted house, consistin of the most complete set of counterfeiting tools an material conceivable. He also had learned some new points concerning their modes of procedure. It seemed that the old house belonged to William- son, and had been fitted up by him quietly for the purposes intended. The interior cellar had been prepared by his men, and the skillfully-devised door constructed. It was so parsers an imitation of the real wall that no one, nof having reason to suspect its character, could ever have discovered it. There had also been built up a large flue, commu- nicat with the wide chimneys above, which served for purposes of ventilation, and as a draught for their fo when in use, and also, by the aid of interior ladders, as a means of escape. Among its other anbenee NDS: uses, this chimney was the chief means by which the ghost business was kept up. These spectral visitants never troubled themselves to walk except on such occasions as valorous parties attempted to brave them by spend- ing the night in the old house. en, by the aid of the ready chimney, such a con- cert of ans, door-slammings and noisy footsteps was kept up as utterly to dismaythe brave ghost- seekers, especially as the noisy rooms became at once silent and deserted when the investigators ap Arum them. y this plan prying eyes were driven effectuall from the old eo and tf, by chance, any of the g themselves were seen about it, the natural con- jecture was that they were either ghost-seekers, or, to the more marvelously inclined, that they were the unquiet spirits themselves. The trial ended in a general conviction cf the ac- cused, their sentences running from five to fifteen years at hard labor, according to their degree of complicity with the crime. Joe Turner was released, as it was shown that he knew nothing of the counterfeiting, heing employed by Will m in minor schemes of villainy, of which the chief was his effort to impose on Mrs. Milton with a fictitious son. It proved that Wtlliamsom had long known the eee OSs CLSK——— story of her bereavement, and becoming acquainted with some points of the history of Harry Spencer, had arrived at the correct conclusion, and at once attempted to manipulate it to his own purposes. That he signally failed, and is yet ne, PY Yi in prison the discovered crimes of which he had been so long guilty, we say with pleasure. Of course there was « wedding. And Mrs. Andrews was present in all the glory of silken resignment to her daughter’s choice. And Mrs. Milton was there in all the joy of perfect contentment. And Jack Bounce was there, big and jovial as usual. And Dick Darling was present, with a wonderfully polished face, and a bran-new suit, not bought from Sol Sly. And hundreds of others were there, of the eléde of the Quaker eb And the happiest lovers under the sun were that day made one, still singing in their hearts “‘ Love waits no more,’ and seeing in each other’s eyes the windows to a heaven of appiness vouchsafed to few mortals on this earth. And they still continue too happy to interest us further, for, as we have said, perfect Bog 4d people have no story worth telling, it needing a spice of trouble to make the romance of life. Dick Darling has not forgotten them in their pleas- ant homes, but condescends to favor them with an occasional visit, in which he usually contrives to waken them up with a spice of his fresh, young spirit. He is still Dick Darling, the sauciest, liveliest, most independent boy going, with a little of the roughness rubbed off, but not a particle of the shrewdness or self-assurance. Dick was not without substantial reward for his valu’ ble services in tracing the mysterious gan which had so long baffled the detectives. Sac Bounce saw that some of the Secret Service funds of the government should flow into the capacious pockets of his new clothes. And Mrs. Milton also proved that her gratitude extended beyond thanks, so that Dick has a small fortune of his own as a result of his services. “IT don’t vally the money so much, though,” he says, ‘‘as I do the peace and quiet that a man of property gits. It was allers at home, ‘that ’iarnal young rascal of a Dick!’ And every other step put me in somebody’s way, or else flung a scoldin’ in my way. But, sure as you live now, my cross old aunty has found out that my name’s Richard, and she’s got jist as sweet as a plum that’s been layin’ for six months in a jar of sugar.” ‘“‘ And what are you going to do for a living, Dick?" asks Jack Bounce, as he tilts his chair back at its usual tne angle, and plants his heels on the window-sill. ‘“* You are old enough now to be laying out some plan for your future life.”’ “*T dunno,” says Dick, scratching his head doubt- fully. ‘Can't see that I’ve showed myself fit for much of anything yet, ’cept it’s smellin’ out dubious rascals. Had an idear once that mebbe I mought make a good detective.” “T doubt that,” declared Will Frazer, somewhat eeipe “Not but what you are quick-witted enough. But our business is one that needs heart and soul in it if one would be successful. And I oer that it has been with you a mere bit of sky- arking,. “If skylarkin’ pays better than heart and soul, so much the better for the skylarkin’,” retorts Dick, sturdily; ‘‘ but I’ve a sorter notion that I ain't quite as big a fool as you buy me for. I’ve had t things in my eye in this little bit of detective bizness; and them things is glory, gee and fun. Glory’s well enough in its way. It ain’t to be sneezed at. Profit’s better, for a pocket well stuffed with ding- bats is jist the best karacter goin’, and a gold dollar ‘ll buy more than a R000 deed any time. But fum's the best of all, That’s what puts meat ona man’s bare bones, and makes dry bread taste like pound- cake. You kin have all the glory and profit goin’, if you'll only see that ’'m kept up well infun. That's ick Darling’s philosophy.” “There was a heavy old po her lost in you, Dick,” adds Ned Hogan, taking his favorite meer- schaum from hislips. ‘‘ You had better put your- selfin myhands. I willmakeamanof you. I think I know your natural line of business.” “Mr. Bounce is ahead of you,” announces Dick, reflectively. ‘“‘Can’t say as I’m ready to guv any answer jist yit. It’s a heavy ’sponsibility, and I want time to think it over. But if there’s any bit of pri- vate work you want done in the way of findin’ out things, why, jist give me the wink—'ticularly if there’s any fun in it.” Dick, since then, has put through more than one important case, and is favorably known to the force as the most promising apprentice in this business. But he has taken care not to tie himself to any one’s leading strings, and always gives his official fricn: 3 to understand, in his usual independent manner, that he intends to run his own detective agency. THE END. No. 181, The Golden Hand ; or, Danpy Rock To THE ReEscuE. By George Waldo Browne. No. 132, The Hunted Hunter; or, THE STRANGE HORSEMAN OF THE PRAIRIK. By Edward S. Ellis. r No. 133, Boss Bob, Tue Kine or 1): BoorTsuacks; or, THE METROPOLITAN Sporricn. By Edward L. Wheeler. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE & AMS Publishers, 98 William Street, N. Y.