Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 420) (1885 08 11)
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1m = ; "f Z ys ea 1 dui hS we 4am ENS , a a See eee ere ere oN Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. “Copyright, 1885, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, | August 11, 1885,” el . $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS Price, Vol. XVI. a Year. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. Oo. 420, A Boy Without a Name.’ BY J. C. COWDRICK, AUTHOR OF “SHASTA, THE GOLD KING,” ETc. | CHAPTER I. A VANQUISHED BULLY, In the messengers’ room of one of the down- |||} |= town offices of the American District Telegraph |||’ Company, in the city of New York, several | Oys were seated on benches around a glowing | stove, each one awaiting his turn to go out into the night; for night it was. f | ; dismal night it was, too. The wind was |||" pit: 3 a gale, and great sheets of rain splash-||/f"" ed and pattered against the gloomy window-|)|[°y'c::: panes in a manner that caused the boys to dread a oe call” that would send them forth to face the storm, = -- It had been snowing hard all day, but as A PAN SPRUNG UP “ ON THE YOUNG RUFFIAN AND CLUTCHED HIS SHOULDER WITH A pight came on, the had turned ¢% rain, GRIP AS OF STEEL.
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be the streets were one great puddle of filthy slush, “* Hello! Dick Smith, how is the walking?” a red-haired boy, who was seated near the stove oan away at a cigarette, asked of a boy. who iad just entered the room, and who was casting off his rubber suit. ‘It?s bad enough, Dan, I can tell you,” was the reply. ‘‘ Look at me, and you can see how itis. I’m mud from my heels to my head,” ‘Where have you been?” ‘““Pve been up to the Theatre Comique. It seems to be just my luck, to strike long walks in bad weather. And I’ve got still another turn to make before I can go home. Hang the busi- ness, I say! How do I stand now?” ‘“T guess you’re fourth out,” answered the red-haired boy, whose name, by the way, was Dan Emmery. * And who’s first out?” “‘ Hal Vernet.” By this time the boy called Dick Smith had hung up his rubber suit, and taking a seat on one of the benches, he said: “So, it’s your turn next, is it, Hal? Well, I hope you get a short run, for I s’pose it’s your last call to-night, ain’t it?” ‘“-Yes,” replied she boy addressed, without looking up, ‘‘P’ve only one more trip out to- night.” arold Vernet was a boy fifteen years old, though small for his age, yet a perfect picture of health. He was strong and muscular, had hair and eyes as black as coal, and his open, fearless countenance had a highly intelligent ex- pression. Among his boy companions he was a general favorite, being usually gay and full of spirit; but on this particular night he seemed reatly cast down. He sat with his feet upon he edge of the box of sand, in which the stove stood, his elbows resting on his knees, and his chin supported by the palms of his hands. He was gazing steadily into the fire, but his eyes had an expression which told that his thoughts were far away from the scenes that surrounded im. “*Hal has got the blues to-night, Dick,” re- marked Dan Emmery. ‘He hasn’t a word for any of us.” “Ts that so, Hal?” Dick asked. ‘‘ Come, old fellow, you must cheer up. Maybe thenext call will be only a five-minutes’ job, and then you'll be done for the night.” ‘“* And maybe,” added Hal, “‘ it will be a trip te Harlem. But, it is all the same to me; I don’t care where they send me.” ; ‘““Didn’t I say he had the blues?” cried Dan. “< What is the trouble anyhow, Hal?” “Ts Aunt Polly worse?” asked Dick. ‘‘ [know she’s been sick quite a long time.” ‘‘Haven’t you heard about her, boys?’ Hal poe with tears glistening in his eyes as he e. Sc No,” they replied. * She is dead!’ ‘‘Dead! Hal, you’re joking!” “‘T wish I was, but it is only too true,” sadly. ‘* When did she die?” “This morning; in the hospital.” “Tn the hospital! I thought she was at home. You told me she was.” “That was last week,” returned Hal. ‘ You know she was sick a long time, and as we had only what I earn here to live on, her money was at last used up. On Monday the landlord turn- ed us out of doors, and Aunt Polly was taken to the hospital, while I had to look out for myself.” _ And where are you living?’ asked Dan Em- mery. ‘Nowhere. Monday night I slept in a baker’s ‘wagon, in Hester street, and last night I slept in a ten-cent lodging: Baure, on the Bowery; but to- night I don’t know what todo. I haven't gota friend in the world, nor any asi 6 i ‘Was Aunt Polly your only relative?” asked Dick Smith. ‘‘She was the only friend I ever had,” Hal answered, ‘‘ but she was no relation to me. I always thought she was my aunt, but this morn- ing at the hospital she told me she was not. I don’t know who I am.” The poor boy’s tears were now flowing freely, and his companions felt the deepest sympathy for him. ‘‘T’m awful sorry for you, Hal,” spoke Dick Smith; ‘‘ but you needn’t worry about a place to stay to-night. Ill take yon home with me, and then we'll see what mother can do about taking you in for good. But, tell us what Aunt Polly said. If she wasn’t your aunt, how did she come to have charge of you?” ‘“* Well, you've been goed friends tome, boys,” said Hal, ‘‘and I don’t mind telling you what Aunt Polly told me. ‘¢T went up to the hospital early this morning, to see her, and one of the nurses told me it would be the last time I would ever see Aunt Polly alive. So, I made up my mind to stay right «by her as long as she lived, All day, if necessary. ‘‘ Aunt Polly knew she was going to die, and told me I would soon be alone in the world.” Here the boy’s tears started anew. awful good to me ” ‘“That’s all right, Hal,” sympathized the others, ‘‘ we know you can’t help it.” | ‘* Well,” Hak presently resumed, ‘‘ Dll tell you what Aunt Polly told me. She said that she was not my aunt, and that she did not know wholam. She said—” ‘Oh! he never had a fadder, He never had a mudder; Oh! he never had a sister, He never had a brudder; in fact, he’s nobody’s kid!” Thus an irreverent voice suddenly inter- rupted, singing, and the boys all glancing up beheld a messenger who had entered the room | a moment before, unobserved, and who had heard what Hal said. He was a large, over- | bearing sort of fellow, with a pale, cadaverous- | looking face that told of dissipation. He pe is perhaps eighteen or nineteen years of age. | name was James Seeds, but he was better known by an appropriate ap ellation that had been bestowed upon him—‘‘ Seedy Jim.” I have said that Harold Vernet was a favor- ite among the messenger boys; and yet, because of his popularity, there was one boy who hated him. That one was ‘‘Seedy Jim.” “ Jim” was the ‘‘ boss” of the room, ’tis true, but it was owing to his superior brute strength only. He was feared, but not respected. Sev- eral of the boys had at different times rebelled against him, but had been beaten soundly for it, and one among these was Hal. The latter had proved himself almost a match for the oad however, and had made it a hot fight for im. Therefore, ‘‘ Seedy Jim” saw that in the near future the place he now usurped was likely to be won by Hal, and hence his hatred. “ Nobody’s darling, nobody’s pet! Poor little orphing! never bad no fadder or mudder,” the bully continued, in an aggravating tone no pen can imitate. Hal’s eyes flashed fire, and loud murmurs of sympathy for him were heard from the other boys. X Boor little child!” the bully went on. ‘*The only son of some unfortunate! Left in a basket on Aunt Polly’s doorstep. Poor lit--” With’ cry of rage anda single bound, Hal had sprung over the back of the bench on which he had been seated, gra ‘Seedy Jim” by the throat, and cut short the sentence he was uttering. : “You great, overgrown coward!” he cried, “Take that, and that, and that, and that, and THAT!” And before the bully could recover from his surprise at the attack, or attempt to defend himself, Hal had dealt him five severe blows squarely in the face. Then, with a howl of pain, the bully threw himself upon Hal, and tried to crush him to the floor; but he failed in the attempt. Hal’s pas- sion was fully aroused, and he fought like a tiger. He still clung to ‘‘ Jim’s” throat, and ere the young ruffian was hardly aware of it, he found himself lying upon his back, with Hal’s knees pressing on his breast. Two or three times he struggled to throw Hal off, but in vain. The latter clung to him, and kept him upon his back, till at last he cried “ Rnough!” and begged to be allowed to rise. The other boys were almost transported with joy at seeing ‘‘Seedy Jim” vanquished at ast. “* Sock it to him!” ‘‘ Let him have it!” ‘‘ Paste him!” ‘Bu’st his nose!” etc., were the cries heard on every side. ‘‘Tet me up!” the bully gasped, as Hal loosen- ed his grip on his throat, ‘‘Make him beg, Hal; make him beg!” the other boys all exclaimed. 7 “T beg! I beg!” gasped “Jim.” “I give up beat.” At that moment the manager of the station appeared at the door, “How many times must I call for a boy?” he demanded, ‘‘ Where’s Hal Vernet?” glancing around. ‘ Fighting, eh? Don’t you know the rules here, young man?” 5 “Hal didn’t commence it, sir,” explained Dan Emmery. ‘It was all Jim’s fault.” “« That’s so,” declared Dick Smith. ‘ Hal ain’t to blame, sir.” ¢ “ He is to blame!” blurted ‘‘ Seedy Jim.” “i The Detective’s Apprentice. “*T can’t help it, boys,” he said; ‘‘she was | eee wasn’t a-doin’ nothin’ to him, an’ he jumped onto me an’ commenced a-weltin’ me.” | ‘You lie! you big coward!” cried all Hal’s friends in chorus. “There! there! that will do,” said the man- ager, who saw how the case stood; ‘let it drop. If it ever happens again Pll discharge you both. Vernet, it is your turn out. I have called you twice. And you, Seeds, you may go home. You need not come back again before next Monday, either. Your face looks like a prize-fighter’s.” It was true. Each of Hal’s blows had left its mark. The bully’s eyes were almost closed up, his nose was bleeding freely, and one of his cheeks had a deep cut in it. Hal sprung at once to put on his rubber suit, and the manager went out. ‘Tl fix you for this, my beauty!” cried ‘* Seedy Jim,” the moment the door was closed. But Hal did not deign to notice him. “You'd better look out he don’t fix you again,” warned Dick Smith. ‘‘He can do it, sais’ time.” ay be youd like to try it,” ‘ Jim” owled. just found out what a great booby you are.” ** And if one of us can’t do it two can,” assert- ed Dan Emmery. ‘Your dog is dead here, you blower.” Hal was now ready to go out, and said: ‘Well, boys, this is my last trip. Good- night, if I don’t see you again.” “Hold on half a second, Hal,” called Dick Smith; ‘‘ I wantto speak to you.” And he fol- lowed him from the room. ‘* What is it?” queried Hal. “Why, what we were talking about. If I ain’t here when you come back, you must wait forme. I am going to take you home with me to-night.” ‘*1Do you mean it, Dick?” ‘*Of course I do.” “Then [Pll wait for you.” ‘All right. And, Hal, you’d better keep zone eye open for Seedy Jim. He wouldn’t esitate about laying you out, after the way you slugged him.” “*T'll look out for him,” assured Hal. ‘TI ess he’s got eye for a while, though. But, must move!” And he hurried into the office, leaving Dick to return to the messengers’ room. Meantime, ‘‘ Seedy Jim,” had left the building via a side door. CHAPTER II. A COWARD’S REVENGE. ‘WHAT were you fighting about, my boy?” the manager of the station asked, as Hal Vernet entered the office, ready for duty. ‘* Because Seedy Jim was abusing me, sir, and I couldn’t stand it.” **Then you should have come and told me.” so, sir; but he 7 ill of my 0 “*T suppose u would have mother, whom he never knew. done the same as I did, sir.” ‘Tf that was thecase, my boy, you did right. Always defend your mother’s »ame, mother dead?” ‘‘T—T think so, sir. I— But please letmego!” ‘“‘There, there, my boy; never mind,” said the manager, kindly. “I will see that Seeds does not trouble you any more. ‘“* Now, here is a very valuable letter, to go to No — Fifth avenue. ‘Take the Elevated Rail- road to Forty-second street, and when you arrive there, do notlose a moment. Hurry from there over to Fifth avenue, find the right num- ber, and deliver the letter to Mrs. Giles. ‘“You must not deliver it to any other person, under any circumstances. If the lady is not at home, bring the letter back to me, and I will send it up again to-morrow. Do, you under- stand?” SV On, SIT.” ‘Well then, be off with you. Here are your railroad tickets.” Hal took the tickets from the manager’s hand, and, having put the letter into his pocket. pulled his cap down eo on_ his head an went out into the storm, bending his ste toward the nearest station of the Elevated Rail- road. Poor Hal! his youthful heart was full of sor- row, and his eyes were dimmed by the tears that welled.up into them. He now saw the mis- take he had made in confiding his secret to his boy companions. He almost wished Aunt Polly had left him in total ignorance, happy in the belief that she was his aunt, and thet his parents were dead, as she had often told him in answer | to his inquiries concerning _them. He could plainly foresee that ‘‘ Seedy Jim” would use the Is your angdon ‘“*Pll bet I can doit,” Dick answered. ‘‘ We’ve
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ae aT img} PE as Nv AT sveapon he had so unwittingly placed in his Lands, to render his life a burden to him. When he thought of his enemy, however, the boy Fer tely dashed away his tears, and his bright eyes flashed. ‘“Let him take care,” he muttered. “If he dares to say a word about me I'll hurt him, Til give him more than I gave him to-night. I al- ways thought I could whip him, and now I know I can.” And elated over his late victory, he partly forgot his troubles for the moment, and stepped forward with a lighter step, dis- daining the rain and wind, and the bad walk- ing. Ke he hurried along he looked neither to the right nor the left. ait certainly not behind him, although it would have been well for him had he done so; for a silent foe was stealthily creeping after him. Nearer and nearer the follower drew, and, when he now and then passed under the glare of a street-lamp, he might have been recognized as ‘‘Seedy Jim.” His eyes were gleaming with the fire of hate, his teeth were hard shut, and in his clinched hand he carried some sort of weapon that looked like a short, strong piece of iron. Wholly unconscicus of his great danger, Hal hurried on, taking the shortest route to reach | his destination, disregardful of the fact that it took him through a very bad and disreputable | neighborhood. | It was early in the evening, not later than | eight o’clock, perhaps, yet some of these streets | through which the messenger passed were al- | most deserted. Few people cared to be abroad | on such a night; and those whom business com- | pelled to be out, kept carefully to the highways | of the great city, and shunned its by ways. ‘Seedy Jim” had but one thought—revenge, | For this purpose he had left the station the mo- | ment Hal had disappeared from the messengers’ | room, and having lain in wait for him to come | out, was now dogging his steps. H Nearer and nearer to his victim he stole, and | presently, right at the corner of another street | that was even darker than the one through | which Hal was passing, he rushed upon him, | not pausing to reflect that he was directly un- | der a street-lamp, and dealt him a blow on the | head that knocked him senseless to the ground, | ** Ah! you coward!” cried a voice at that in- | stant, and ere ‘‘ Seedy Jim” could turn to flee, | or finish his murderous work, whichever might have been his intention, a man sprung upon the | young ruffian and clutched his shoulder with a grip as of steel. “You young villain!” he cried angrily, shak- ing “‘ Jim” almost out of his boots, ‘* I’ve half a | mind to choke you! The idea! attacking a | smaller boy than yourself, and in such a cow- |! ardly way, too! It’s a lucky thing I happened | to be coming up this side-street, or perhaps you ! would have made a job of it. Yl attend you, | sir, in short* order,” and placing a whistle to | his lips, he blew the sharp, shrill police-signal | for assistance. | This was Steven Sharp, one of the most able ; members of the municipal detective corps. ! His signal was almost instantly answered from two diverse points, one in the direction of the Bowery, and the other from the dark depths | of the street. from which the detective had just | emerged, and a few moments later two police- | | | ! men appeared upon the scene. ; ““ What's up?” they asked, recognizing the de- tective at once. ** Almost a murder, I guess,” was the answer. | * Please pick that boy up, and see how badly he | is hurt.” The two officers lifted Hal up outof theslushy | snow, wiped the blood away from his head and | ne i asked. He’s pony badly cut,” one of them said, at | face, and then examined his wound. length, ‘but I guess his skull is all right.” es The Detective’s Apprentice, And he led his prisoner away. Then the detective and the other policeman lifted Hal up, and together they carried him back to the American District Telegraph Com- pany’s office. When the manager of the station saw him car- ried into the room, he exclaimed: ‘Good heavens! what has happened to that boy?” ‘*He’s been almost murdered,” answered the policeman. And the detective added; ‘He was set upon a few minutes ago by one of his fellow-messengers, who struck him a severe blow on the head with this poker, sir.” “Why,” cried the manager, excitedly, “that poker belongs in the messengers’ room of this station!” And instantly he left his place and rushed into that department. “Where's Seeds?” he demanded. ‘** He’s gone home, sir,” replied Dick Smith. - How lotg since?” ‘* He went out about the same time that Hal Vernet did,” answered Dan Emmery. ‘Oh! the villain!” the excited TRADE EST gasp- ed, as he turned ana hurried back into his office; and the boys, seeing that something unusual was afoot, followed him. As they entered, Hal was just returning to consciousness, and opened his eyes. “Where am I?” he asked, ‘Oh, Hal! what is the matter?’ cried Dick Smith, as he rushed to his friend’s side and knelt down by him. “ That rascally Seeds has tried to murder him, that’s what’s the matter,” cried the manager, with whom Hal was a great favorite. ‘“‘Ts that so?? Dan Emmery shouted. ‘ Oh, won't we salt him for it, boys?” “We'll half-kill him!” declared Dick Smith. **No need to talk of revenge, boys,” said the man who had, with the policeman, brought Hal in, and who was a stranger tothem. ‘ The fel- low is good for’ six months on the Island, and I'll see that he gets it, too.” ‘*Did you witness the blow struck, sir?” the : Manager asked. “ Yes, sir,” was the reply. ‘I happened to be coming up ono street as this lad came down another, and as I neared the corner he came in sight under a street-lamp. Then, almost at the i same instant, the other boy rushed upon him and struck him down, It was as cowardly a deed as I ever witnessed.” ‘Who was it struck me?” asked Hal. _ “Tt was Seedy Jim,” replied Dick Smith. “Oh, the coward!” “May I ask your name, sir?” the manager asked of the detective. ““Certainly; I am Steven Sharp, of the detec- tive bureau.” . “Indeed! I’ve often heard of you, sir, and I’m proud to meet you.” 4 And the manager offered his hand, while the boys all gazed upon the officer with a feeling akin to awe. The detective took the proffered hand, and then asked: ‘Where does this boy live?” ** Please, sir, he is going to my home to-night,” Dick Smith hastily announced. “ But he is wounded,” said the detective, “and he had better be taken to his own home,” “T haven’t any home, sir,” said Hal. “No home?” the detective mused—‘ no home? i Pcs a fine-looking lad, too!” And then aloud: ‘“Then hadn’t we better send you to the hos- pital, my boy?” ‘‘Nary time!” said Dick Smith, boldly; ‘he’s going tomy home, sir. I guess my mother can take care of him, if any one can.” “ And where do you live?” the detective Dick gave his address, “Do girs went to go home with Dick, Hal?” “What did you strike him with anyhow, you | the manager asked. oung devil?” the detective demanded, giving ‘Seedy Jim” another hearty shaking, B young ruffian would not answer, ‘Yes, sir,” Hal answered faintly, for he was ut the | very weak. The detective told the policeman to go and “T guess this is what he used,” said one of the | send a cab, and then return to his beat. officers, as he stooped down and picked up a | ‘All right, sir,” said the officer, and he went short, hea oker. _ “No doubt Me it,” said the detective. And he added: ; } “Well, one of you take this fellow and have him locked up, under a charge of assault with intent to kill; while the other helps me to carry this poor boy to the nearest American District | and— But, give me that letter, Hal. Tele ph station.” | send another boy with itatonce. It had slipped right,” said the two policemen, and one of them abe ped forward and laid his hand heay- ily upon ‘“ Reedy Jim’s” shoulder, at the same time whistling a bar of the then popular air; “Come, birdie; come, O! come with me,” out. fs “Say, boys,” Dick Smith asked, meantime, | “which of you will take my last turn to-night? I must go home to take care of Hal,” “Twill, J will,” was the answer from all. _ “Yes,” said the manager, “‘ you may bo Die mus my mind.” ‘ Hal raised himself up on his elbow on the bench where he had been laid, and felt in his pocket. “Ob! sir, I’ve lost it!” he cried, ghaty - ’ fm ' Se tL eatin P 5 im “Lost it?” af Yes, sir; it wasin this pocket; but now it’s one. ‘Maybe Seedy Jim has took it,” Dan Em- mpossible,” said the detective. ‘‘He had no sooner struck the df than I was upon him, If the boy has lost a letter, it must be lying where he fell.” ‘‘That’s so,” the manager assented. ‘Go, two of you, with a lantern and find it.” j Two messengers were soon ready, with a small lantern, and the detective telling them where to go, they set out on a run, Hal Vernet gradually recovered from the shock of the blow he had received, and by the time the cab arrived for him, he was able to stand up and walk, with a little assistance. He, Dick and Detective Sharp entered the conveyance, and telling the driver where to go, were driven rapidly away. In due time the two boys who had been sent % look for the lost ljetter, returned to the sta- ion, ‘* Well?” the manager interrogated. ‘““We can’t find it, sir,” the boys reported, “We've looked all over the spot carefully, but it was not there,” ‘‘And you looked all slong the way, where Mr. Sharp said Hal was carried?” ‘Yes, sir; every step.” ‘* And on the same side of the street?” “Yes, sir.” ‘Hadn't you better go back and look again?” **Tt wouldn’t be of any use, sir, We looked over every inch of the ground,” The letter was lost, beyond recovery. What had become of it? You shall see. Steven Sharp and the policeman, carryin Hal Vernet, had been gone from the scene o the cowardly assault scarcely five minutes, when a young man passed along that way. “Blood, eh?’ he had muttered, as he paused under the street-lamp and looked around at the crimson marks that had attracted his attention. **Looks as though there has been some sort of fracas here. ‘* Hello! there’s a letter!” and stooping, he had picked up a large, well-filled yellow envelope. ‘* Wonder whatit is?’ he had queried. ‘‘ Let’s see—” and he held it where the light fell upon the superscription—‘‘ Mrs, Langdon Giles, No. a Fifth avenue, N.Y. Personal.’ ‘Whew! that’s rather a high-toned address, anyhow. Now, I wonder what’s in this en- ve ope? Something that’s soft, and something that’s hard, too. ho knows but what I’ve stumbled upon a gold-mine—a veritable bon- anza? Ill investigate the contents of this mys- terious packet, when I get home.” And so say- ing, he had thrust the wet letter into his pocket and gone on his way. His last sentence proved the character of the man into whose hands the lost letter had fallen. CHAPTER III. HAL FINDS FRIENDS. ** WELL, my lad, how do you feel now?” De- tective Sharp asked of Hal Vernet, as the cab started. ; ‘* Better than I did, I thank you. sir,” was the reply. «My head pains me very much, though.” ‘Of course, it must; but I guess that will come all right ina day or two. What did I un derstand your name is?” p ' ‘“*My name is Harold Vernet, sir.” “ And yours?” turning to Dick Smith. “My name is Smith, sir; not a common name at all, but an exceedingly popular one; Richard Smith. Dick, for szort.” The detective smiled. tat see you are inclined to be facetious,” he said, ** Faseeshus?” Dick repeated, “I don’t exactl get onto that word, I guess; but that was what earda dude a-saying to bis mash, one night last summer, His name was Smith, you see.” Well, it is rather a ‘popular’ name, if you look at it in that light,” the detective remarked. ‘* But, tell me, my Jad,” turning to Hal, ‘ what is there at the bottom of this attagk upon you to-night? What was it done for?” ‘Well, sir, Seedy Jim has always been bully- ing us boys around, {st as he pleased, and this evening T turned on himand gave him a licking. He was abusing me, and I couldn’t stand it. T suppose he took this means of getting square with me for it.” ‘““No doubt of it. That is a coward’s rae every time,” the detective declared, ‘ We'll him for it though. h “By the way, I think I shall call around to
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_— he morrow, my boy, and see how you are. I like your face.” **Oh! I shall be at the station to-morrow, all right again!” Hal exclaimed. ‘No, my lad, Iam afraid not; you won’t be there to-morrow. When you wake up in the morning, your head will feel as big as a bushel. Yow’ll be glad to lie around the house for a day or two, at least.” ie! ESPs not, anyhow,” said Hal. And thus they talked while the cab rolled on teward its destination. Dick Smith’s home was in an east-side tene- ment house, high up toward the heavens, and consisted of four rooms. His mother was a wid- ow. She hadthreesons. The oldest was Harry, & printer by trade; Dick stood next; and then came their little brother Joe, who sold papers, morning and evenings, and went to school. Mrs. Smith was an honest, hard-working wo- man, who kept her rooms ‘“‘ as clean and neat as a new pin.” She took in washing, and occa- sionally went out to do house-cleaning; and thus, with the aid of her boys, made quite a comfortable living. On this stormy night, about the time that Hal Vernet was Ping brought to her home in the cab, she was seated beside the glowing kitchen stove, with Harry and little Joe. Joe had come in only a short time before, as wet as a drowned rat, and his clothes, cap, shoes, and stockings were hanging up to dry behind the stove, while he was busily engaged with his school lessons for next day. Harry was glancing at the items of news in an evening paper, and the widow herself was patching a pair of little Joe’s trowsers. “What an awful night it is!” the widow resently exclaimed, as the wind came roaring ei into the chimney with a louder moan than usual, and the rain splashed against the windows with greater force, ‘*I do hope Dick won’t be out late.” : ** Now, don’t you f° to worrying about Dick, mother,” said little Joe. ‘‘ He’s all right.” ** Why, here he comes now!” the mother sud- denly cried, as she heard and recognized his well-known step. And the next instant Dick burst inte the room, carrying a bundle, and fol- Jowed a moment later by Detective Sharpe, as- sisting H At this sudden entering of a stranger, little Joe, who had been sitting in his night-gown, sprung up and instantly vanished into another room, ‘*Mother,” Dick cried, pitching the bundle into a convenient corner and then facing round, “This is Hal Vernet. You’ve often heard me speak of him. He’s been hurt to-night, and he’s t no home, so I brought him here. is man sa police detective. He saved Hal from bein, hurt worse than he is, if not killed.” ; Harry rose up and placed a chair for the de- tective, while Mrs. Smith assisted Hal to a seat in her roeking-chair, ** And that was right, Dick,” the good woman paid. ‘* How did the poor boy get hurt?” “He was attacked by a young ruffian, who truck him with a poker,” Detective Sharp hast- tned to explain. ‘‘I wanted him to go to a hos- ital; but your boy insisted upon having him rought here.” ‘‘ And that was right,” the widow repeated. ‘Dick has often spoken of him. But, I thought he was living with his aunt, Dick; and now you say he has no home, How is that?” ** Aunt Polly is dead, ma’am,” said Hal. Yes,” said Dick, ‘she is dead. She died this morning in the hospital, and Hal has no moms any more. He had no place to sleep to- © On! the poor boy!” the widow exclaimed, * And such a fine-looking lad, too. He is wel- zome here, I am sure.” ‘There! I knew you’d say that, mother,” eried Dick, joyfully. “J, too, am glad to hear you suy it, madam,” gaid the detective. ‘‘I am quite interested in the lad, end will call and see how he is to-mor- row, with your permission. Give him good care, and if a doctor is needed you may get one at my expense. Now, I will bid you all good- night. e cab that brought us here is still at the door, and I will let the driver earn his fare by taking me home.” ‘*He shall have the best of care, sir,” said Mrs. Smith, ‘‘and I will be glad to have you eal] and see him.” ‘*T will certainly do so,” said the detective. “Well, good-night, all! Good-night, my boy.” rn -night, sir,” said Hal. When the detective was gone, the widow ex- amined Hal’s hurt. Then she got a basin of warm water, and carefully washed the blood yea eee vp The Detective’s Apprentice, — aoe _ Wma em away from his head and face, after which she anointed the wound with a cooling ointment, and bandaged it up. ‘* There!” she exclaimed, when she had done, ‘how does that feel?” ‘*Oh! ever so much better, I thank you, ma’am,” Hal replied. ‘* I’m glad of that. Now, I will find some dry clothes for you, and when you have put them on, you and Dick shall have supper.” In a short time, with the help of Dick and Harry, Hal was clad in dry garments, and then he felt so much like himself again that he sat up to the table and ate almost as hearty a supper as Dick. ‘**So, your aunt is dead, eh?” the widow pre- sently questioned. ‘Yes, ma’am,” replied Hal. ‘‘T am very sorry. Dick spoke to me about her being sick. Was she sick long?” ‘Yes, ma’am; quite a long time.” ‘* And was she your only relative?” ‘* Yes, ma’am; that is she was my only friend; she was not my aunt though.” ‘* Not your aunt?” ‘No, ma’am; she was no relation to me at all, She told me so this morning.” ‘* Who, then, were your parents?” *T—T don’t know, ma’am.” ‘“There, never mind,” said the good woman, kindly. ‘‘I was wrong to ask you so many questions. Will you take another cup of tea?” “No, I thank you,” Hal answered. ‘*See here, Hal,” said Dick, who saw that he desired to say something, ‘‘you needn't be hg now to talk. There’s no Seedy Jim ere. “Dick! be quiet,” said the widow. ‘“ Don’t you see it pains him to speak of his dead friend?” “No matter, ma’am,” said Hal. ‘I thank you, but there is something I must explain. I must tell you what Aunt Polly said to me this morning. I cannot stay here to-night unless I do tell you, and perhaps when you have heard it you will not want me here anyhow.” ‘*Nonsense!” exclaimed the widow. ‘If there is something you must tell me, at least put it off till to-morrow. As for not wanting you here—do you see the Good Book there on that shelf? I do my duty according to that, as near as I can.” “And the right of that Book, which Aunt Polly has read to me so often,” said Hal, ‘* makes me feel all the more that it would be wrong for me to sleep in your house without first telling you my secret. If you will listen, I will tell you now.” ; ary well, then, since you will have it so; we are ming.” In his own 2 pieaays ingenuous manner, Hal then told his story: “‘T have lived with Aunt Polly Barker ever since I can remember, and always thought she was my aunt; but this morning she told me she was not. ‘* She said that one day as she was on her way home from market, with her big basket on her arm, a woman stopped her on the street and asked if she would hold her baby for a moment, * That Ray was myself. *‘ Aunt Polly took me, and in an instant the woman da out of sight around a corner of the street. She never came back, “* Aunt Polly started after her, of course; but, having me on one arm and her . Bageen cee the other, by the time she reached the corner the woman was out of sight. “Well, what could Aunt Polly do? You know how kind-hearted she was, Dick; and she said she couldn’t find it in her heartto hand me over to the city as a foundling, so she took me home with her, ‘* Her husband was living then, and she had a comfortable home, They had no children of their own, having lost two little boys some years before, and gave me the best of care, ** At first, of course, they tried to find out who I was; but they failed. Then they looked around for a name for me. Their own little boys had been named Harold and Vernet, and at last it was decided to bestow both of those names upon me. That’s how I came to be Har- old Vernet. ‘When I was about ten years old, Mr. Bar- ker died; and then Aunt Polly had to take me away from school, and put me to work, to help her get along. ‘“‘ At first I tried blacking boots, then selling eer ee and at last I got a job as messenger in e A. D. T, Company, where I have been for two P aor “ Aunt Polly had to work very hard, but we managed to get along right nicely, until shewas taken sick. Then all we had tolive cn was what [I earned; and in a short time the little money that Aunt Polly had laid by was used up. he landlord turned us out of doors last onday, and then Aunt Polly was taken to the hospital.” ‘And what in the world did you do then, poor boy?” asked Mrs. Smith. “* Well, ma’am, I had to do the best I cculd. That night I slept in a baker’s wagon, and last ni ht, in a ten-cent_Icdging-house; but to-night I don’t know what I would have done, only for Dick. I thought of trying to find a hole scme- where in that big pile of boxes at the corner of Eim and Pear) streets. I hadn’t a friend in the world, nor any money.” “*Poor boy!” “You see, ma’am, Iam a boy who dces not know who he is. Now, are you still willixg to have me stay here to-night?” “Why, to be sure I am,” answered the good woman. ‘Would I be a Christian woman if 1 turned you away? Besides, you are not tc blame. You have done nothing to be ashamed of, and some day you may discover who your parents were.” ‘*T hope so,” said Hal. ‘‘I mean to try, any- how, as soon as I am old enough.” “ Have you any clew to go to work on?” asked Harry, who looked toward the practical side of the question. “Oh! yes; I meant to tell you!” Hal ex- claimed. ‘‘I went up to the hospital this morn- ing to see Aunt Polly, and knowing she couldn’t live she told me what I have just told you, Then she gave me a small package, and was trying to say something more, when she died. Then one of the nurses led me away.” ‘““And have you opened the package yet?” Mrs. Sinith quickly asked, her womanly curi- osity now fully aroused. ‘“Yes,” Hal replied, ‘‘and it contained some baby clothes, undoubtedly the ones I wore when I was given to Aunt Polly.” ‘“ Are there any marks or letters on them?” asked Harry. ‘No; but they give mea clew to go to work on, and I mean to use it some time. The little dress has keen cut in two, up the back and front, and just half of itis gone. Then there is half of a little gold chain, the other half being missing.” “* And,” said Harry, ‘“‘ you think the other part of the dress and the other piece of the chain are held by some one, to prove your identity?” ““That’s it, exactly,” replied Hal, ‘‘althcugh I couldn’t have explained it so easily. The things are at the station, ina bundle of clothes that I’ve got there, and—” ‘*No they ain’t either,” cried Dick. ‘‘ There’s your bundle, there in the corner. I knewit was yours, and brought it along.” “I’m glad you thought of it,” said Hal. ‘* But, why didn’t you say scmething abcut it before? Then your mother wouldn’t had the trouble of getting clothes for me.” And as he spoke he rose and got the bundle, cpened it, and taking from it the small package he had spoken of, he handed it to Mrs. Smith, requesting her to ex- amine the contents. The widow ss it, and spread the garments out upon the table, “Why !” she exclaimed, “‘ these are of the very finest materials! Whcever your mother was, my boy, she must have beer well-to-do.” ** Do you think so, ma’am?” ‘‘T am sure of it. No women of limited means | could have bought such garments. Why, this little cloak must have cost at least twenty dol. lars itself.” And she he'd the article up as she spoke. ; ; “Hold that up again, mcther,” said Harry. “* T saw something.” The widow obeyed, and Earey then glanced through the little cleak toward the light. ‘*“There!” he exclaimed, ‘I was sure cf it!” | And stepping forward and taking up one corner ! of the garment, he felt of it carefully, saying: ‘““There is a bit of paper in there, mother.’ ‘““So there is,” said the widow, excitedly. ‘I wonder what it can be?” and she searched for some place to get it out. Presently she discovered a small rip in one of the seams of the lining, and the paper was sccn brought to light. 1t proved to be a small piece of heavy note-paper, one side of which was cov- ered with WHitthg, Harry took it from his mother’s nervous hand, ae Yaga looking it over for a mcment, read aloud: ' “ *Be kind to this boy for his father’s sake. Keep his little clothes and this note. Iretain half of his dress and chain. You keep the other half cf each for him, Bove
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¥ 2 ic kat oar ae sal hf oc ra og eens renee se A ‘Those letters stand for my name!” exclaimed Hal, excitedly. “Why, so they do,” cried Harry. And then they all stood and gazed upon the slip of paper in silent wonderment. What could it mean? Harold Vernet had | been named after Mrs. Barker’s two boys, Harold and Vernet, yet here were his very initials, H. V., signed to this mysterious note, ; oe was a remarkable coincidence, to say the east. CHAPTER IV. HAL’S NEW HOME. “Tr is rather a strange circumstance, any- how,” said Harry Smith, who was the tirst to break the silence, ‘‘ that these lettersshould hap- pen to be the same as the initials of your name, If that detective friend of yours were only here now, boy, he might be able to solve the riddle for us.” “Yndeed, I believe he could,” Mrs. Smith confidently declared. ‘‘ Did you notice his eyes? —sharp enough to look right through you, and almost read your thoughts?” “Oh! he’s a sharp one, you bet he is,” said Dick. ‘But, see here, mother, what about Hal?” “What about Hal? My son, I don’t under- stand you.” ; ‘*Well, I mean can you take him to live with us for good?” “Oh! why, yes, to be sure I can. Do yousup- ose J would turn himaway? Of course he may wh here. | But, let me see. I must have another ‘* Please, ma’am,” Hal exclaimed, interrupting her, ‘‘some of Aunt Polly’s things are at a Mrs, O’Brien’s, down in Catherine street, and there’s a bed among them. Mrs, O’Brien took posses- sion of them when Aunt Polly was taken to the hospital, saying she would keep them till called for; but I know she intends to keep them for good. Sheisas mean as can be. She lives in the same house that we lived in, and never did athing for Aunt Polly at all, all the time she was sick. When we were turned out of doors though, because Aunt Polly couldn’t pay the rent, then she took the things. I had to make an awful fuss, to get my own clothes.” ** Indeed !” exclaimed Mrs. Smith, sarcasti- cally, striking an attitude with her arms akimbo, “Lady O'Brien was very thoughtful, I am sure. She'll keep the things till called for, will she? Well, then, my boy, you and I will do our- selves the honor of calling on her ladyship to- morrow. What has she got that belonged to Aunt Polly?” ‘“‘ Well, ma’am, there’s not a great deal. You see, Aunt Polly had to sell a great many things. There is a good bed though, and a table, a small stove, two, or three-chairs, an old trunk, and a clock. And, if you are going to give me a home, ma’am, the things belong to you.” ‘Not, not to me, but to you,” said the widow, “And you shall have them, too. She'll keep them till called for, will she? Well, I admire her cheek, I must say. Dll see Lad O’Brien to-morrow, and if she dou’t give up the things, LU—PuU—” ‘You'll snatch her bald-headed, eh, mother?” said Dick. “ That I will, and more. I’ll teach ber— But, I am losing my temper. : ‘Yes, my boy; you shall have a home here. | Pll take you as one of my own, and do the same by you as by Dick.” “i am very thankful to you, ma’am,” Hal said. ‘“*T am only doing a Christian woman’s duty,” said the widow. ie tadate By better go to a though? You need rest. ou will have to sleep with Harry to-night, but to-morrow I will ar- range things so that you and Dick can room to- gother.” ( : And thus Hal found himself in a new home, among kind friends. Mrs. Smith carefully folded the baby-clothes wrapped them up, and at Hal’s request lai them away in a safe place. Then Hal retired to bed, where he soon forgot his troubles and fel} asleep. f When he awoke next morning hs found, con- trary to the prediction of Detective Sharp—who | knew nothing of the wonderful therapeutic ualities of Mrs. Smith’s favorite ointment, that the soreness was almost entirely gone from his head “7 guess I’m as sound as ever,” he said to ie breakfast. ‘I wonder how Seedy Jim eels ; HS me bet 4-8 got a sweet-looking pair of yap anyhow,” replied Dick, ‘A ou goin, ae aren Die Ary. you going ‘The Detective’s Apprentice. ‘Of course Lam. How is the weather?” “Tt has cleared off,” answered Mrs, Smith, ‘and the air is fresh and keen.” ‘*'That’s good!” cried little Joe. ‘I don’t like to sell papers in wet weather.” It was barely daylight, and they were eating their breakfast by the light of a candle. “By the way, Hal, what 1s Mrs, O’Brien’s number in Catherine street?” Mis. Smith pres- ently asked. Hal told her the number, and she said: “T will go and seo her to-day. Perhaps she means well enough. by taking care of the things.” a Perhaps,” said Hal; “‘but I doubt it. I know her.” As soon as breakfast was over, little Joe set out to sell his morning papers, and in due time Harry, Dick and Hal went to their work, leav- ing Mrs. Smith alone to attend to hers. The good woman busied herself with her household duties for an hour or two, then she carried home some clothes which she had ironed on the previous day. She returned about ten ovlock, and was just getting ready to go in quest of Mrs, O’Brien, when there came a knock at the door, ‘Come in,” she said, and Detective Sharp sep into the room. * Good-morning,” he said. young friend?” ‘* Good-morning, sir,” said the widow; ‘please be seated. You mean the boy? Oh, he is all right, sir; he went off to his work as well as he ever was.” ‘““Indeed! I expected to find him feeling pretty sore; he is a hardy little chap, and_ no mistake. He told me he thought he would be out all right this morning, but I did not think so. I’m glad to hear it, though. I understood, last night, that he has no relatives. Is 1t true?” “Well, sir, I can’t tell. If he has any, no one knows who they are,” And then the widow repeated Hal’s story. The detective listened attentively, and when she had concluded her recital, he said: *“ Will you allow me to see those little gar- ments, madam?” ‘* Certainly, sir, for I believe you really take an interest in the poor boy.” ‘*T am interested in him. If Ican do him a good turn, I shall do it most willingly. Perhaps chance may throw something in my way and put me on the right track to discover who he is.” ‘“‘T hope so, sir,” said the widow, earnestly. And beat she produced the package Hal had left in her keeping, spreading its contents out upon the table before her visitor, who examined each article closely. . ‘No marks,” he said, presently; ‘‘ yet this little dress is cut in half, and part of it is gone, as is half of this chain. Now, the question is: Where are they?” Mrs. Smith called his attention to the note, “Well this is a mystery,” he declared. ‘‘ Who can ‘H. V.’ be? Not the boy’s mother—Ill bet on that!” sh Why, sir?” .* Because a mother would naturally say, ‘ Be kind to my boy,’ and this says, ‘ Be kind to this boy.’ Then, too, why does it say, ‘for his father’s sake? It is a deep mystery.” ‘You see, sir,” said the widow, “ the letters ‘H. V.’ stand for Harold Vernet.” “Yes; and that goes to prove that Aunt Polly Barker found this note, same as you did; at least, that is my way of looking atit, ‘Who is H. V? she has said to herself or to her husband no doubt. ‘It must be the baby’s mother, an we must give him a name according to the in- itials. What shall it be? Then, as they thought of the names of their own boys—Har- old and Vernet—there was the name for the little stranger.” ““Tt certainly looks reasonable enough, any- how,” said the widow. “I wonder why we couldn’t think of that last night?” “There is a shadow hanging over that boy’s life, which, the chances are, will never lifted,” the detective said. ‘‘ But, if ever I find a clew to work on, I’ll make it my business to clear the mystery up. I am deeply interested in the little fellow. I must be going though. ou were on the point of going out when I came, were you not?” . Mrs. Smith explained where she was going. If you have no objections, I'll go with you,” he said. “T may be of some assistance to you.” Of course I have no objections, sir. Infact Iam glad you will go: for, to tell the truth, I fancy Mrs. O’Brien will need to see a police badge before she will come to terms.” The two set out, and ina short time reached “How is our their destination. Mrs, Smith then inquired for the woman she desired to see, and found her, ‘* Are you Mrs. O’Brien, ma’am?” she asked. “Yis,” was the reply, ‘that’s me name mu’m,” “Well, Mrs. O’Brien, I have called to get some things that belonged to Mrs. Polly Barker, who lived in this house. I believe you are tak ing care of them till called for, are you not?” “ An’ who are you, mu’m?” “My name is Mrs. Smith. I have takes Aunt Polly’s little boy, Hal, to live with me, and have come here for the things she left, which, of course, are his.” ‘* Av coorse they are not, thin!” cried Mrs, O’Brien, angrily. ‘‘ A foine lad ava b’y he is, to have poor Jimmie Seeds locked up last noight, an’ all fer nothin’ at all, at all. Shure, th’ lad’s poor ould mither told me all about it this marne in’. Nota thing will yebeafther gettin’, mu’m!{ Afther th’ way I cared fer that woman whil¢ she was sick, an’ th’ money I spint on her, it’s @ howlin’ shame if her few odds an’ ends av fur- nychure don’t belong to me, Divil a bit av it yowll git, mu’m,” ‘“ A great deal yow cared for the poor woman, you drunken thing!” cried the widow. ‘ You who allowed her to be turned out of house and home, here in the dead of winter. A great deal of money you spent for her comfort, Bah! I’m disgusted !” ‘“Yowre no lady, mu’m!” cried the Irish: woman, shaking her fist under the widow’s nose, ‘*You’re no lady!” “‘T don’t claim to be!” was the angry reply, and the widow thrust her face forward till her nose almost touched Mrs. O’Brien’s, ‘* but I hope Vm a Christian woman, who would never think of robbing a poor boy and then turning him homeless into the street!” Then both women began to talk at once, shak- ing their heads the while, with their noses al- most touching; but what one said, or what the other said, will pever be known, Both grew very red in the face, and it was fortunate, per- haps, that Detective Sharp soon appeared upon the scene, accompanied by a policeman. Mrs. O’Brien drew in her horns at once, The goods were quickly forthcoming, and the detective having engage a truck, which was ready at the door, they were loaded at once and taken away. “Tf you have kept anything back, madam,” | said the detective, ‘‘ you will see the inside of the Tombs before you are aware of it,” “Oh! you’ve got th’ trash, every bit av it!” the Irishwoman declared. ** Very good, then.” ‘‘Good-day, ma’am,” said Mrs, Smith, as she left the house. **Good-day, an’ good riddance to ye!” Mrs, O’Brien retorted. ‘‘An’ ye’d better tell that precious b’y to look out fur Jimmie Seeds, whin he comes out,” “Which won't be for six months to come, I can assure you,” said the detective. “You're no gintleman, you ain't! An’ as fer you, ye bla’guard,” she cried, suddenly confront- ing the policeman, with a rolling-pin firmly grasped in her hand, “ there’s th’ dure!” The officer departed. True enough, ‘‘ Seedy Jim” was sentenced to sojourn for six months on the ‘‘Isle de Black- well.” which was no more than the young ruffian richly deserved. Hal found his new home to be a pleasant one, and he soon became as one of the family. Ha and Dick had a room together, and their friend Dan Emmery was often invited to come and see them. Detective Sharp now and again dropped in to see his young protege, as he called Hal, and they frequently met upon the busy streets. On sev- eral occasions Hal performed services for the detective in his line of business, for which he was always amply rewarded. But Hal was a strange boy. The secret that hung over him and clouded his young life, caused him to be silent and reserved to an unusual de- gree for a boy of his age. ; The weeks passed quickly by; Winter was succeeded by spring, and spring by summer; and soon six months had elapsed since the night of “Seedy Jim’s” cowardly attack upon the hero of my story. CHAPTER V. CLOUDS ARISING. Drop from Chatham Tost into Mott street, reader, and you will suddenly find yourself i the Chinese quarter of the great metropolis, where, in all his pristine beauty, “ John” reign* supreme,
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. R Jow. 6 Proceed Tae oh fase dean en hairk ateaes-| see fetes OGL this street for a short distance, and presently, on your left, you will behold a narrow thoroughfare that leads directly down a steep hill. This is Park street. Turn theZcorner here and descend the hill, and a few steps will bring you into Mulberry street, where you will suddenly find yourself in the Italian quarter of the city. Here, in all their rags and dirt, are to be found the dark-skinned children of sunny Italy, who still adhere, ina great measure, to the habits and customs pecu- liar to their native land. Continue on down Park street for another block, and you will come into Baxter street, that str onghold of the Jews, Here, if your g gen- eral make-up proclaims you to be from the country, not a dozen steps will you advance ere you will be caught by the sleeve, and almost pulled out, of your boots by some enterprising dealer in ‘‘ ol’ Clo’s,” who seems to be determined to force a sale upon you at almost any sacrifice. **T giff you mein vort as a chentlemans,” he will assure you, ‘‘ dot suit cost me not one cent less as eight dollars!” Yet, the chances are, unless you prove so verdant as to pay his first named price, he will eventually part with that same suit for two dollars, and still realize a handsome profit. And here, too, you will find yourself at the Five Points, that world-famous scene of many a bloody brawl, and of more murders than one, Here Baxter, Park and Worth streets conjoin, and the small, triangular- “sha: d park, if park it may be ca led, known as ‘ Paradise Square,” lies before you. There was a time, and that time was nota great many years ago, when, for a well-dressed stranger to venture into this’ region of vice, mis- ery and crime, was to risk his life, It is little better now, after dark, for the neighborhood still abounds with native and foreign villains of every degree. The Five Points is not what it wasin the days of the ‘‘ Old Brewery,” however, for on the site of that once notorious building ’stands now tho Five Points House of Industry, while directly opposite is the Five Points Mission. evertheless, if Ar desire to investigate theso scenes for yoursel and are a stranger to thé city, let your visit be made in the fu light of day, and not after the shades of night have fallen. About ten o’clock one night, a little more than six months after the time of which the opening chapters of this romance treat, a young man erossed Chatham Square entered ott street, and proceeded at a rapid pace along the very route which I have just described. He was perhaps thirty years of age, a little above the middle hight, of good figure, rather god coke than otherwise, and fairly well- essed. His face was dark, and his hair and His eyes had a con- and he on the eyes were decidedly black. stant restless expression, however glanced furtively around, as though watch. This man was one Macy Blanding, by profes- sion a oe sporting-man and ‘‘ sharper” in eneral, He was tolerably well-educated, and, fad he turned his talents in the right ‘direc- tion, might have won an honorable place in the world. He had, however, a propensity toward evil, On more than one occasion his name had been associated with ‘ affairs” of Py ee ae character, but thus far the police had failed to bring him to account, He was shrewd, brave, and Pdecidedty ** slippery.” On reaching Park street he turned and de- scended the hill, and had almost gained Mul- berry street, when suddenly two men sprung upon him from a dark doorway, and a knife flashed before his eyes. ** Your money! queek, or ve keel youl’ was a into his ears, with a strong foreign ac- cen There was no reply, onl sound, and instantly a revolver gleamed in the dull light, staring the assailants squarely in the face. ‘And, foreigners though they were, the ‘were evidently acquainted with the death th-deal- ing qualities of "this favorite weapon of the American, for they quickly slunk back and allowed the young man to pass. ossing Mulberry street, he continued on to the Five Points. Here he turned to the right, around one of the sharp points that constitute the five, proceeded for a short distance up Bax- ter street, and then disappeared into one of the disreputable saloons, or ‘* bungaloos,” that there abound. Let us follow him. _ The sp, into which he had entered was by no means large, and its ceiling was decidedly At one end was the bar, presided over by a sharp, clicking alee Maan aba eB e: | rs ' The Be ee ere S, s Apprentice. one Mike O’Glory, the proprietor of the place. The rest of the floor was devoted to tables and chairs, for the ‘use of customers. The place was well-filled with a vile-looking crowd, men and women, some of whom were much the worse frsm drink. The least evil- appearing of those present were seated at the tables nearest the bar, while the rabble occu- pied the opposite end of the room. Near the door were two Italian boys, playing a harp and violin. Macy Blanding advanced at once to the bar, and said: ‘“A glass of beer, Mike, and one for your- self.” ‘“‘ All right, sir,” responded the barkeeper, as he wiped the perspiration from his face, and then proceeded to fill two glasses with the popu- lar foaming beverage. ‘“‘It’s a pretty warm | evenin’.” ‘** Decidedly so,” answered Blanding. “Well, here’s to your health, old man,” he added, when the beer was placed before him, and raising his | glass he drained it at a draught. | ““Same to you,” said O’Glory, and he followed | | suit. | “Have you seen Sheeny the Turk to-night, | Mike?’ Blanding then asked, as he put down the emp ty glass and wiped his mouth, | es; he was in here only a little while ago, He said he'd be in again. Acted as though he | expected to meet some one.” ‘He was looking for me. Dve got an ap- pointment with him to meet, me here. Dll take | a seat and wait for him.” And so saying, Hignding. sat: down by one of the tables near the | bar and lighted a cigar. In a short time another individual entered the saloon, glanced around, and then approached the table where Macy Blanding was seated. ** Good-evenin’, pard,” he said, as he satdown, ! “how d’ye flour ish?” | “‘Oh! so-so, Sheeny,” was the reply, ‘‘ how’s yourself?” **Can’t complain.” { This new-comer was a man about forty years | of age. His hair was black and closely crop- ped; his eyes were small, black, and piercing; s face was cleanly shaven, and of a sickly, yellow-white color; while his nose, his most | prominent and str iking facial feature, pro- claimed him to be unmistakably a Jew, or at | least of Jewish descent. Furthermore, his coun- tenance wore the hunted expression that be- | speaks the jail-bird. Such in fact he was. His name was Levi Mcses, though he was bet- | ter known as ‘‘Sheeny the Turk.” He had | spent at_least two terms in Sing Sing, and sev- i eral on Blackwell’s Island, having just been set free from the last-named place, after nine months of incarceration. Beer was called for, and then, as they drank and smoked, the two men conversed in low tones. H “Now, Blanding; what about my boy Ikey? | Where is he?” “‘Sheeny the Turk” asked, ‘That, Sheeny, is just what I wanted to see ; you about, Blanding replied. ‘‘ Youremember | the night you saved my life in that Water street den, about two years ago, I promised you if ever I could do you a good turn, I would. ‘Weill, when you went to board on the Island this last time, and your wife died shortly after- ward T took your oy in and gave him a home. “Now, I want to ask you a question: Sup- | pose it came to your knowledge that a certain ; rich man, a regu!ar nabob millionaire, had had | a boy stolen from him—say about fourteen years ago, the boy then being but a year-old baby. | Suppose you found it in your Pak to palm off | your boy Ikey upon the said millionare, with oof to convince him that Ikey was his lost | An thus giving your son a good home and making him heir to millions, would you do it?” ** Would I?” “Sheeny the Turk” exclaimed, | ‘of course I would.” ‘I thought so, Well, Sheeny, allow me to in- form you that your boy Tkey is now figuring in that role.” “‘ The deuce you say?” ‘*Exactlyso, Listen: Some time ago I made the discovery that a certain wealthy family had lost a boy aS mentioned. I found means of proving your boy Ikey to be their boys now fifteen years - age. Iresolved to palm him off upon them. ut Ikey through a severe course of lessons, whic iecoupled some three months or more of time. Then I took him to the certain wealthy family aforesaid. **T put on an almost sanctimonious air; took the boy by the hand and went boldly to the rich man’s Dalétual mansion; laid my proofs before the master of the house and his wife as I told my ate and then said; ‘This boy is your long-lost son,’ —————— ‘eeurd Ikey will become of age. “They were convinced. They could not help being convinced. They questioned Ikey closely, but his replies only strengthened my story the more. And then ey § roots, they were not to be doubted. They were half of the little dress that their baby had on when stolen, and part cf a little gold chain that was around its neck, ** You see, I had them dead to rights. ITkey is a good- -looking little c uss, smart as lightning, and they took to “him at once. The fond mother clasped him to her breast, while the father show- ered blessings upon my head. It was truly ef- fecting.” “ Yowrea fool!” cried the “Turk.” ‘ I'd have bled them! Id ’a’ made ’em pony up a cool thousand for th’ p roofs, and several more before I'd allowed ’em to see th’ boy!” ‘Not so fast, Sheeny, old boy; not so fast. If I had tried that game, the rich man [ speak of would have been suspicious. He would more than likely have put detectives upon my track, and have exploded my little job. “Oh! no, Sheeny; I played for a higher stake.” “It was a-pretty good piece of work, Macy, I own; but how are we to make a stake out of it” OW hy, Turk; youre as dumb as a head of cabhage! Can’t you see? Yourson Ikey is now the acknowledged son of a millionaire. In a few Then Ikey will ave to dance to our tune. Meantime, hell no doubt see to it that his old dad and yours truly don’t want. He’ll find ways and means of pro- viding for us, under my carefui guidance,” “Whew!” the ‘*Turk” whistled. ‘* Macy you're a chief! Now, who és this nabob millions aire?” “There!” exclaimed Blanding, ‘‘I knew that question would come!” **Of course; I want to know.” ** Sheeny, 1 "can’t tell you.” “ Why not £2” at oe you too well. ‘You'd go prowling around the place, and the first thing you’d know you would give the whole thing away. ‘*No, sir! There’s got to be a middle-man in this game, sama fe and I'll play that role my- self. Whenever I see little Ikey, I'll tell him his dad sends his compliments, and so for th, and desires him to be a good boy and obey his new parents; also Macy Blanding. I'll manage to make a fair living out of it for us both, and with prospective millions in view, we can affor to be patient for afew years. You've no cause to complain, I’m sure. You can live at your ease. No more stone joes to fear.” ‘* And never see little Ikey, eh?” ‘“ Why, there’s no need of your seeing him. He is living like a prince royal, and that is all you need care about. Moreover, J am the man- ager of this show, and the programme must be played my way.” “Suppose I kick?” “But you won't kick. You've got better | sense than to do that. If you do, then I'll drop you out altogether and go it alone, But I want to do the square white thing by you, Sheeny; and of course you are not fool enough to force me to go back on you. - “That's about so, pard,” said the ‘* Turk,” thoughtfully. ‘‘I guess you're right, and I'm glad Ikey A fallen into such a puddin’.” “There was no ‘falling into’ about it,” said Blandin “T picked Hin up and placed him icteree Fon've got meto thank for your son’s good fortune. ‘‘But, Sheeny, there is another chapter to the story; Ihave recently found the millionaire’s true son.’ ~ ee aes Mp ‘“‘T thought stronger words than that Sheeny ; even though I didn’t use them. Now, this other | boy is about the same age and size as V our Ike He i a a messenger in the American District Tele- orate deuce you say! How did you ever tum- ble to him?” “Well, listen again: I board down in Cath- erine street, with a certain Mrs. Seeds, She has a son Jimmie, who has | been spending six months on the Island, He— “Yes, I know him,” said at Turk.” “ Hels got th’ ‘makin’ of a crook in him, too, All he needed when he came to th’ Island was a little schoolin’, an’ you can bet your life he got it here.” ““ He’s posted, is he?” “You bet ho is.” ‘So much the better. Well, as I was about to say, he came home a few days ago, now he’s Just more than ~ gan for revenge on the boy he had the trouble with that sent him up, And, that boy is the millionaire’s son.” “You don’t say so}” j
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“Yes, sir; it’s a fact.” ‘ _ But, that don’t explain how you got onto t. “T was coming to that,” said Blanding. “This boy, who goes by the name of Harold Vernet, was brought up by a Mrs. Barker. She died last winter, and a Mrs. O’Brien, who lived in the same house, froze onto her house- hold goods; although she had to give them up afterward, ‘Now, this Mrs. O’Brien is a friend of Mrs. Seeds’, and the night Jimmie Seeds came home, she called to see him. I was there. Conversa- tion was naturally about the ‘ wrongs’ Jimmie had endured, and then turned upon young Ver- net. ‘“T won't repeat the conversation at length. Mrs. O’Brien finally allowed that she knew more about the boy than any other person living. Then Mrs. Seeds proceeded to question her, and to sum it all up and make a long story short, I learned this: ‘““Among the defunct Mrs. Barker’s effects was an old trunk. That trunk Mrs. O’Brien went through, like a dose of salts through a sick mule. In it she found a letter. She went through that also. It was a letter written by Mrs. Daihen! and was addressed to young Ver- net. In it she explained that he was not her nephew, but an unknown child. She had al- ways led him to believe that she was his aunt. Then she recounted how he had come to her, and so forth, and wound up by dosevibing his baby clothes, which were still in her keeping. “Well, as the two gossips chattered away, I, knowing what I did, saw that Harold Vernet was, beyond a doubt, the millionaire’s lost kid. Proof of it, the letter mentioned that the boy’s little dress had been cut in half, one half being gone, as was part of a gold chain that was around his neck. “Do you catch hold, Sheeny?” “ Yes, I’m comin’ along, Macy,” the “ Turk” replied; ‘but I can’t see why Mrs. Barker made a letter of it all. Why didn’t she tell th’ boy?” ; “The letter explained that. She didn’t want to tell him, She wanted him to believe her to be his aunt.’ She knew he ought to know it, though, so she wrote the letter, which, in case of her being taken off suddenly, would ex- plain all. ‘‘ Now, Sheeny, this boy holds—or, at least, I suppose he does, for they were not in the trunk —the other parts of the dress and chain which put your Ikey where he is. I am the only per- son who holds the key to his life’s mystery, but he may at any time stumble upon his parents, and then out your boy Ikey will go. ‘What can we do? The game is big, wld wo can’t allow this boy to come in and oust us. Don’t you think the dead Mrs, Barker would like to see him singing with the angels up in the cerulean regions?” “You show him to me,” the “ Turk” hissed, an’ he'll mighty soon go there!” ** Oh, I was only joking!” Blanding exclaimed. “But how easily it might be done! Jimmie Seeds could shadow him for a day or two, we'll say, and find out what evening he has to work late, Jimmie would tell me, of course, and I could be on hand to send a package down this way.” «Some other boy might bring it, though,” the “Turk” objected. “No fear of it. Jimmie was once a messen- ger himself, you know, and he knows the ropes. e could easily give me a sign when it came young Vernet’s turn to go out. I could then rush into the office with my package, and want it sent, double-quick, to—well, we'll say the Five Points Mission. You could be in waiting, having first had the boy pointed out to you so that you would make no mistake in case any- thing should eageirne i You would throw an old shawl over him, Jimmie Seeds would rush up and help you, and—but it’s all a joke, of course.” , “To be sure it is. I understand that. But, as you say, how mighty slick it could be one!” ; “ And Ikey would then be secure.” “ rs 9 seaions you spoke of still be his— and ours.” “Ofcourse, He's the only child.” “Perhaps, pard,” and ‘ Sheeny the Turk 4 winked his’ eye impressively a5 he spoke, “ per- haps Jimmie Seeds would like to see me—say to- morrow night, here.” ; “Pm Rag 1 can’t say,” said Blanding; “but YR tell him where he can find you, if you wish, “Allright, Tell him he can find me here any night for a week, about nine o'clock.” The Detective’s Apprentice, then for half an hour or longer the conversation was continued, At last the two men arose from the table, stepped to the bar and took a final drink with Mr. O’Glory, and then left the saloon. ‘“*“Sheeny the Turk” accompanied Blanding down Baxter street as far as Chatham, where they shook hands and parted; Blanding taking a short route to his boarding-house, in Catherine street and the ‘‘Turk” turning back to his lodging-place in Baxter. ‘Found a home for Ikey, have you, Mr. Blanding?” the latter muttered as he walked along. ‘‘ Well, I’m much obliged to you, ’m sure. An’ you won’t tell me where, eh? VP have to play detective on you then, I guess, an’ find out. Then, when th’ boy you spoke about has gone to join th’ angels, it may happen that youll go to keep him company. He! he! he! ‘An’ then Sheeny th’ Turk an’ little Ikey will play it out all by themselves. Ha! ha! ha! ‘“ When Ikey comes of age, then, perhaps, his fond parents will suddenly die, an’ then— But It’s alla joke, of course. It’s most too good to be true. However, Mr. Macy Blanding, Vl shadow you to-morrow,” And thus the rascal talked and chuckled to himself, till at length he came to ‘the place where he lodged, and entered, A week went by. CHAPTER VI. A CASE FOR DETECTIVE SHARP, As you saunter up Broadway, ‘seeing the sights,” with time at your disposal, turn from that great thoroughfare into Bleecker street on your right, pro- ceed two blocks down, turn to your right again, and you will find yourself in the upper end of Mulberry street. Here, between Bleecker and Houston streets, stands a large, noticeable building, No need to ask what building it is, for on its front you will behold the legend: “CEenTRAL DepARTMENT OF Mrrropo.iran Poricr.” The building is four stories in hight, with a base- ment underneath, Along its entire length runs a heavy iron railing, Six broad steps lead up to the main entrance, which, at night, is lighted by two large lamps which stand on posts at the lower step, - one on each side, ‘ Situated in the basement of the building is the central office of the police telegraph. Here, by means of dial instruments, telephones, automatic telegraphs, etc., every section of the city is connect- ed with the central department. In this office, late one afternooon, the following message was received from an up-town precinct sta- tion: “‘ CoicF INSPECTOR: * Please send a reliable detective to my house at once, No. — Fifth avenue, “Lana@pon GILes.”’ The telegram was soon in the Inspector’s hands. “Hold on a minute, Steve,” that officer said to Detective Sharp, who was about to leave the room after having made a report to his superior on a case he had been detailed to work up, “here is another case for you.” ; “* What is it?” the detective asked, The Inspector handed him the telegram, saying: “Go up there and see what is wanted, ifitisa case of importance, do your best. I'll give you all the help you may require.” “All right, sir. You can’t give me a ‘pointer’, can you?” ‘*No; I don’t know mucb about the man. He isa snag So though, I believe, and belongs to the up- er ten. “ Well, I'll go up and investigate.” Half an hour Jater an elderly gentleman ascended the steps of the Giles mansion on Fifth avenue, and rung the bell. He was clad in a broadcloth suit, and wore a silk hat and gold-bound eye-glasses. The door was opened at once by & man-servant. a Mr. Giles at home?” the elderly gentleman asked. “Yes, sir,’’ the servant replied, ‘‘he is at home.” “Present my card to him then,” the gentleman said, and he handed the servant the regularly or- dained society pasteboard. Mr. Langdon Giles was seated in his library, where the card was ope to him, and as he read the name it bore, he said: “*mMr, Henry Walters?’ who can he be? It must be some one whose acquaintance I have made some time or other, I suppose. Show the gentleman in.” The elderly gentleman was ushered into the room at once. and, after placing a chair for him, the ser- ew. * varPicase 10 be seated,”’ said Mr, Giles, ‘IT hope you will pardon me, sir, but I fail to recollect you.” “That is not to be wondered at, sir, said the elderly gentleman, as he sat down, “Ithink we have never met before. This telegram, however, will enlighten you as to who Iam and whylam here,” aaa as he spoke he handed a slip of paper across the tabl>. “Oh!” Mr. Giles exclaimed, as he glanced at the paper, ‘ you’re the detective I sent for, eh?” Yes. sir, I am Steven Sharp, of the central station.”’ * But, why do you come here in such a cloud of ore beer and cigars were called for, and ‘ mystery? Why use an assumed name?” “You would hardly expect me to come here in police uniform, would you, sir? Not knowing what your case is, I thought it best to let no one know the nature of my business,” “irae enough. Not being acquainted with the business, 1 did not pause to think of that. Do you detectives always work thus, under cover, so to speak?’ ‘Always. In one disguise to-day; to-morrow in another, We have to work in the dark; otherwise we would never accomplish anything. But, to the point, what do you want of me?” ‘* Well, sir, to come to business: A bold robbery has been committed in this house, and I desire you, if possible, to recover the s'olen property.” ‘What does the stolen property consist of?” the detective asked, “Of my wife’s diamonds, valued at forty thousand dollars.” “Whew! Do you suspect any one?” **Yes—or, that is,no. No, I do not suspect any one, sir. I suspect no one,” ‘Ha! you do suspect some one,” the detective thought, * and the question is—whom?”’ ‘“ When were the diamonds stoien?” he asked, “Between noon of yesterday and three o'clock this afternoon.” “Will you explain all you can in regard to the case?” “Certainly. My wife took the jewels out of her jewel-casket yesterday, about noon, and brushed them, preparatory to wearing them this evening. At three o’clock to-day, not more than an hour &g0, she opened the jewel-casket again, and the diamonds were missing.”’ ** Was the casket kept locked, sir?” “Yes, sir.”’ **Had it been forced open?” “No, sir.” “ee it found locked, same as your wife left it?” Yes,”’ “Can you show me the casket, and the room where it was kept?” ; “Excuse me fora moment,” said Mr, Giles, * and I will see,” And he left the room. “This promises to be a mysterious affair,"’ the de- tective mused, when left alone. ‘Mr. Giles sus- pects some one; of that I fecl certein. If he sus- pected a servant. he would speak out; but it is some one else. He does not want to utter his suspicions, and therefore I must conclude that he distiusts some member of his own family. This is a slight foundation to build on, anyhow. Perhaps his wife has disposed of the jewels to liquidate some private debt, and, to shut her husband’s eye, proclaims them stolen, Perhaps a son or a daughter, if he has either, has taken them. J must look for something that will throw a little light upon the mystery.” a Mr. Giles returned to the room, and said: ‘You may accompany me, sir.” “One word first,’’ said the detective, in a low tone, “Have you made your loss known to any one?” *No; only my wife and I know of it.” “Good. Now. your servants will! wonder who I am, should any of them see me accompanying you about the house, I will make some remarks as we pass through the hall about refurnishing certain rooms, as though you contemplate having it done. Do you see?” ‘Yes, I see. Say whatever you please.” Mr Giles then led the way from the room into the hall, and up the broad staircase. ‘** Are the halls and stairs to be refurnished, too?” the detective asked. “The parlors are to be considered first, I suppose? T have an excellent variety of parlor furniture now; something entirely new.” ““T suppose so; but I will show you whatis wanted up-stairs first.” On reaching the first landing, Mr. Giles opened a door and led the dctective into a sumptuously-fur- nished sitting-room, where, seated in a luxurious rocking-chair, was a woman of surpassing beauty of face and form. And as his eyes fell upon her the thought entered the detective’s mind, ** Where have I seen that face before?” ‘Mrs. Giles, this man is the detective,” said Mr, Giles, by way of introduction. The detective bowed, and the lady inclined her head. “This room,” said Mr. Giles, “is Mrs. Giles’s rivate sitting-room. The room adjoining is her Bedroom, and beyond that is her dressing-room. will show you that room, for there is where the jewels were kept.’’ And he conducted the detec- tive through the bedroom and into the dressing- room, Mrs Giles following. “This is the jewel-box,”’ said Mr. Giles then, lay- ing his hand upon a handsome ebony box, beauti- fully inlaid with turquois, pearl and gold, which stood upon the top of a bureau. The detective examined it. “May I ask you a few questions, madam?” he asked, addressing Mrs, Giles. | ‘ As many as you will, sir,” was the gracious reply. EM, Giles informs me that you took your jewels from their casket yesterday, about noon, and brushed them, Was there any one in the room with you at the time—your waiting-maid, for in- stance?” “No, sir; no one except my little son,” As he put the question. the detective was, to all appearances, gazing straight at the jewel-box; yet he was, in fact, watching both Mr, and Mrs. Giles with ean? eyes. ay " ‘ * Ah!” he thought, ‘it is your ou suspect, it, Mr. Giles? Well, let’s see how rtd jaca in that di- rection. Aloud he said: .
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¢ 8 The Detective’s “When you had replaced the jewelsin the box, metre, did you lock it? Are you certain on this poin ‘Yes, sir; I locked it.” “Where did you put the key?” “T hung it upon a smal! nail behind that picture,” pointing to an oil-painting on the wall. ** and you found it still there when you came to open the box to-day?” “Yes, sir,’’ * Then,” said the detective, ‘‘ either that key was used by the thief, or the lock was skillfully picked. Will you allow me to see the key?” The key was handed him. ‘The lock must be a very intricate one,’’ he said. **Tt is safe to say it was not picked. * Now. are there any evidences that this room has been forcibly entered?” “None that we could discover, sir,” said Mr, Giles. | ** Ts the door locked at night?” “pe door leading into the hall is locked when I retire,” replied Mrs. Giles. “Tg that the only coor leading from this suit of rooms?” ‘*No,”’ said Mr. Giles; ‘‘my rooms the same as these, are adjoining. 1 seen to-day.” ‘*No; who did you see?” Dick Smith asked, quite as regardless of the rules of grammar as Dan. “Why, I seen Seedy Jim. He was a-talkin’ toa fellow down in the Bowery.”’ * So, he’s out of the jug, is he?”’ 4 Yes; and he is looking pretty tough, I can tell ou, “ Hear that, Hal?’ queried Dick; ‘‘ you'll have to look out for him, now. He may Jay for you some time when you're out, and give you another crack on the head.” “I’m not afraid of him,” asserted Hal. “If he'll give me half a chance I can whip him, and I know it, “But, he vont give you half a chance,” Dan de- clared. ‘If he wants revenge, he’ll try to get ic the same way he did before.” ‘ ‘Then I must be on the lookout for him.” Little did the boy imagine, though, the urgent ne- cessity there was for himto be on guard against his enemy that very night. ‘“*T wonder what he’s going to do?” Dick Smith queried, ‘“ He can’t get back here.” “Give it up,” said Dan. ‘I guess he’ll findit hard to get a job at anything, now. Jail-birds are not wanted ” * That's something that is not right!’ cried Hal Vernet. “ After a boy or a man has once been sent to jail, he might as well be dead. Wen he comes out, no one will have anything todo with bim; and if he desired ever so much to reform, he couldn’t There’s no chance for him tolive, unless he becomes a robber and cut-throat. If I were the boss here I'd ut Seedy Jim to work again, and give him a chance. Phelieve if some one would hel)» bim now, he’d turn out to be an honest man.”’ ‘¢*Not much he wouldn't!” cried Dan, ‘Tt ain’t in him. He’s a bad egg,” “He can’t without help, anyhow,” said Hal. ‘I think we'd ought to speak to the manager, and see if he won't take him back.” “What! and let him bully us around again? Not much!” ‘*Maybe he wouldn’t try it any more,”’ “Oh! yes he would. He’d be worse than ever, Besides who wants to work with a jail-bird?” *That’s just where it is!” cried Hal. ‘You wouldn’t help him if you could.” A thus the boys talked, never dreaming that ‘“‘ Seedy Jim” was scarcely a dozen steps away from them. Yet such was the fact — The young ruffian was standing close by the side of the building, in a deep shadow, watching the messenger boys as they passed out andin. He had | been standing there for more thanan hour, - Presently he drew half a ¢cozen or so of matches from his pocket and lighted them allat once, allowed them to blaze for a moment, and then threw them into the street, And then it was that a man crossed over from the opposite side of the street, and entered the building. ** Good-evening,”’ he said, to the manager. ‘‘ Here is a small parcel | want you to send to the Five Points Mission, on Park street, as soon as you can” The package was received, the charges paid, and the man then waited until Harold Vernet was called to carry the package to its destination. “This is yourlast urn, ain’tit?”’ asked Dick Smith, as Hal was about to set out. “Yes.” was the answer. “Tf you are not here when I come back, Dick, I'll wait for you.” * All right.” And then the boy started off, and the man went away. Yo walked at a od a pace, paying but little atten- tion to his surroundings. He knew almost every inch of the city, below Fourteenth street, and had no need to look for street names on the lamp-posts, to guide his steps, He soon neared his destination, and was about to cross the street, when suddenly 8 man sprung out from the dark shadow of ad¢orway and flung a coarse blanket over his head. completely enveloping him in its folds, and thus rendering him powerless to defend himself, or to raise an alarm, That man was *‘ Sheeny, the. Turk.” He was soon joine« by a youth who came hurrying to the scene, who proved to be ‘Seedy Jim;” and together the two rascals raised Hal up and bore him into a dark alley. So quickly was it done that no one had noticed them, Through the alley they carried their prisoner, down half a dozen rickety steps, and along a foul- smelling passage, then up another flight of steps and pprentice. a Ee ee ee nen hla think any one seen us?’ the “Turk” asked. ‘‘ No, I guess not,’’ answered ‘‘Seedy Jim.” “We done the job up pretty quick.”’ * Well, up with him then, an’ we'll tote him up to th’ rooms.’ Hal was lifted up agaln, and carried up a creaking staircase, then along a hallway for a little distance into a room, and here dropped onto the flcor in no gentle manner. * There you are, my lad-a-buck,”’ the “Turk” ex- claimed, and as he spoke he pulled the blanket off. Hal was on his feet in an instant. The room was lighted by a candle that was stuck into the neck of a bottle, and seeing ‘Seedy Jim’’ before him, the boy rushed upon him. But the * Turk” interfered. One blow of his fist knocked the poor boy into a cor- ner, almost senseless. ‘* None of that. my lad,” he cried. no time for figbtin’.”’ “Oh! let bim come at me once!” cried “Seedy Jim.” “I’m itching to belt him in th’ mug.” ‘Never mind that now,” said the ‘Turk,’ ‘ You take that string and tie his hands behind him, PU hold him while ye doit.” And pointing to a piece of strong string that hung on a nail, he then ad- vanced to Hal and caught him by bis arms, * Seedy Jim ”’ quickly tied the boy’s hands secure- ly behind him, and then the “Turk” thrust a gag at his mouth, so that he could not ery out for elp. ‘There you are. my blushing primrose,” he said, when this was done, ‘‘ You may kick and stomp around all you want to, but that won’t do you a bit of good. I’d tie your feet, too; but haven’t any more string. I guess you’re fast enough, though. “Now, Jeems, my boy.” he added. turning to his oung proselyte; ‘you fo down to Mike O’Glory’s pungaloo an’ see if Scft Patter is there. If he ain’t there, you wait till he comes, an’ then bring him up here, Bring along a bottle of whisky, too, An’ then, when it gets a little later, me an’ Soft Patter et? show you bow to crack a crib in th’ best modern tyle. ‘*What about th’ kid?” ‘‘Seedy Jim” asked, in- dic-ating Hal. “Oh! he’!l keep. He can’t git away. We'll fix him after we're done with th’ other job, About two o’clockin the mornin’ there won’t be any one arovud to pipe us off, an’ then we'll wring his neck an’ drop him into th’ sewer.” “Dye hear that, you little pet?” cried “Seedy Jim,” at the same time face Hal a brutal kick, ‘We're going to set your little spirit free. Ha, ha, ha! Eh, Turk?’’ ‘*You jest bet we are,” the “Turk” answered. “But, Jim, be off. Maybe Soft Patter ‘will be Luere and gone, if you don’t hurry. He won't wait ” * Allright,” said ‘Seedy Jim,” ‘*I’m off,’’ end he left the room. The moment he was gone, “Sheeny the ‘turk” took up the candle and went into an adjoining room, closing and locking the door behind him. Hal couid still see the light as it streamed under the door and through a long crack in one of the anels, and getting up from the floor he stepped fiehtly across the room and applied his eye to the last-named aperture to see what the Turk” was doing, He beheld him upon his knees before a fire-place, busily engaged in taking up three or four of the bricks that formed the hearth. ‘What in the world can he be doing that for?” Hal thought. But he was soon to know. ; Having removed four or five of the bricks from their place. the Turk” took a small package from his pocket and rig tortie it in the hole thus dis- closed. Then the bricks were carefully replaced, ashes were sprinkled over them and the task was accomplished, And none too soon, either, if the ‘Turk ” desired to keep his secret from his accomplices, &8 was evi- dently the case. for he bad hardly finished his work when he heard them ascending the stairs. He hur- riedly placed the candle upon the mantle-shelf, and then opening a door that led into the ball, said: * That you, Patter?’ “Yes, it’s me. Patter,’ was the reply. “What d’ye want of me?” ‘Come in, you an’ Jim, an’ I'll explain. There’s a big pile of boodle waitin’ fer us ta Come an) lift it, an’ no danger, either.” “Oh! in (Act case I'm with ye, every time,” said the man called **Soft Patter,” as he entered the room, followed by ‘‘Seedy Jim,” who carried the bottle of whisky the ‘‘ Turk ” bad told him to bring. “Soft Patter,” so called on eccount of his ability to walk without making a sound, when occesion re- quired, was another thief whose acquaintance * Seedy Jim ” had formed while in jail. ‘*Sheeny the Turk”? brought forth three glasses and filled them with liquor from tha bottle, and then the three rascals seated themselzes at a rickety table. ‘*Where is this crib you’re a-goin’ to crack?” “Soft Patter” asked * Hush! not so loud!” the “’furk” cautioned. ‘There's ears in the next room.” , “Oh! I didn’t know that.” said ‘‘ Soft Patter.’ “Well, let’s drink a bumper tw our luck,” said the ‘* Turk,” “an’ then we'll talk business after- ‘We ain’t got ard. “All right,” was the response, and all three emptied their glasses. ; * By hokey! but that’s good!” cried the “* Turk,” with a sly wink at “Soft Patte,.”. “Let’s try an- other, partners,” and he refilled the glasses. But this time ‘‘ Seedy Jim ” hesitated. into a house. “I'm afraid | can’t stand it,” he said. “I ain’t as Here they paused. used to it as you old stagers is.” ? : : , j On ‘ 3 Wag? uaenal iy sits pains vs dus ‘ et, ga. 274, f » , Le ght ee a 4 We Se ey S ‘ i Pt ee Ee 3 nate ee se aac a Be a eS “7 poche, a gait cage —eeeE EE : -— - et ae
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¢ 5s at “ 4 _ + ‘s i 5 Cae ebeie t Pe a - . Reetghes midge Tore Ri pngrede eee ices ‘Oh! nonsense!’ exclaimed ‘‘ Soft Patter,’”’ he in turn now winking at the“ Turk.”’ *‘ Put it down ye, md ; it is as mild as new milk, an’ wouldn’t hurt a abby. “But, I—I feel th’ stuff in my head a’ready,” **Seedy Jim” protested, “Oh! that’s nothin’, be it, Patter?” cried the “Turk.”’ ‘*That’ll soon pass off. One more glass will jest fix you right. Come, no hangin’ back, now; but down with it!” And once more the glasses were emptied. The effect upon ‘Seedy Jim“ was almost instan- tineous. The room began to turn round and round him; he stared in a stupid manner at his com- panions for a few minutes, then he rose up from his chair and tried to walk, but his legs refuse 1 to sup- port him and he fell to the floor in a heap. “Ha, ha, ha! what's the matter,boy?” the * Turk” asked, as he roared with laughter, “Oh! he’s only a-playin’ off he’s dead drunk!” cried ‘‘ Soft Patter.” ' Two or three times the young ruffian essayed to rise, but failed most miserably, and at last he sue- cumbed to the influence of the potent liquor and fell into a drunken sleep. “There, that settles jim,” said the ‘* Turk.”’ “* We don’t want no kids along on ¢his racket.” “Well, Sheeny, what is yer racket?” “Soft Patter” asked. “ Jest wait a minute, partner,’ said the ‘‘ Turk,” “* till I see how my young friend in th’ next room is, an’ then I'll explain th’ hull thing.’? And he rose up and unlocked the door of Hal’s extemporaneous prison. Hal had quickly left his post at the door and thrown himself upon the floor in the corner where the “Turk” had last seen him. “Oh! there ye be, eh?” the * Turk” said, as he opened the door, ‘‘Can’t get up, with yer hands tied behind ye, eh? Well, so much th’ better then,” And he withdrew, locking the door as before. No sooner was the door closed, however, than Hal had his eye at the crack in the panel again. ‘* Who’ve ye gotin there, anyhow?” ‘‘ Soft Patter ”’ asked, “Only my boy, Ikey,” the ‘Turk’ replied. ‘He tried to talk back to me a little while ago, an’T jest tied him up fer a while to tame him down a bit. Take a little more of th’ likker?” ‘*No,I guess not. I’m loaded enough now, if ye want me to do biz at all straight.” “Sheeny the Turk” evidently considered that he himself had had about as much as he cculd well carry, too; so the bottle was put away. ** Now, Patter,” he said, “the crib I want you to help me clean out isa Fifth avenue mansion.” “Th? deuce!” ‘Yes, sir; fact.” ‘** Whose place is it?” “T believe th’ man’s name is Langdon Giles. He’s a reg'lar millionaire.” The men spoke in low tones, but Hal was able, by listening sharply, to catch every word they said. ** How did you ever come to light onto that crib?’ “Soft Patter” asked. ‘*Now, that’s my affair,” the “ Turk” answered. “Tf I’m willin’ to take you in for half th’ boodle, that’s all you need care about!” “Yes, 1 s’pose so. Well, how are a-goin’ to get ” “ Walk right in th’ front door,” “ What!” * Yes, sir; fact.” “Well, that is a puddin’. ner in th’ house, ain't ye?” **Now, Patter, you want to know too much, You jest take care that you git your share of th’ plunder, an’ ask no questions.” } “ Allright, Sheeny; all right. I ain’t a-grumblin’. How far up the avenue is it though?” “Tt's ese Forty-second street; No. —” “ An’ when will ye start?” ‘*Oh! no use goin’ fee an hour or two yet. Come! let’s try a little game of cards, to pass away th’ time.” And as he spoke, “Sheeny the Turk” brought to light a well-worn pack of cards, and he and *‘Soft Patter ’’ began playing. You must have a part- CHAPTER VIII. BURGLARS BAFFLED, Wuen the two villains in the adjoining room be- gan to play at cards, Hal Vernet wen found that he was not likely to gain any further information by listening, so he drew quietly away from the crack in the panel of the door and leaned against the wall to think. - How could he free his hands? How could he es- cape? - he could possibly get away from these two ras- cals, it was ciearly his duty to warn Mr. Giles of the intended robbing of bis house; and with that thought uppermost in his mind the boy tried to think of some means of escape. He tugged hard and long at the cords that bound his hands together, but could not slacken them in the least degree. and only succeeded in making his wrists very sore. He began to despair. ' Presently, however, his hopes brightened, as a new thought suddenly entered his mind. In his pocket wasa knife. If he could only get it out and open it, he might, perhaps, be able tocut his bonds. No sooner had the thought suggested itself, than Hal began to contort himself into almost every posi- tion that can be imagined, to get his hand into his pocket. But it seemed, at first, impossible to do it. At last, however, he succeeded in getting the fingers of his left hand into the right-hand pocket of his trowsers, his hands being crossed, and after a hard struggle he managed to get hold of his knife and to bring it out. Then, to open it. For fuil twenty minutes he tried and tried to accomplish this, but all in vain, The knife opened hard, even under the most favor- able circumstances; and to open it now seemed to be quite out of the question. Again the boy's spirits sunk, But, ** Necessity is the mother of invention,” and at last, after aimost an hour spent in vain en- deavors, av idea occurred to the boy—an idea so simp'e in itself that he feit heartily ashamed to think it had not come to his mind before. Was it practicable though? That he would soon put to the | test. He dropped upon his knees, reached down and | felt fora sharp nail in the heels of his shoes, and soon found one. Then he applied the blade of the knife to it, caught the nail inthe thumb slot, gavea steady pull, and the knife was open. Hal’s heart bounded with joy. Now, he had sim- ply tocut the string to be free. And this he did, After two or three trials he managed to get the blade of the knife under one of the turns of the cord, and it was soon severed. Then another and another followed, and in a short time the boy’s hands were freed. At that moment he heard a noise in the other room, and dropped down upon the floor instantly, holding his hands behind him. The next moment the key was turned in the lock, and *“Sheeny the Turk” entered. “There ye be yet, eh?” he said. ‘ Well, I guess you're all right an’ safe. Sorry to say I must leave ye fer an hour or two, but can’t helpit. Let me see if everything is fast."". And he made a tour of in- spection of the doors and windows. Everything was securely fastened. ‘* Well, so-long, my lad,” the ‘Turk’ said, as he left theroom. ‘l’llattend to your case whenI come back, And, perhaps to that other feller’s, too,” he added, jerking his thumb toward the next room, no doubt meaning “Seedy Jim,” And then he shut the door, locking it again. Hal was on his feet at once, and instantly tore the gag away from his mouth. He peered through the crack in the panel of the door, and saw that his two enemies had extinguish- ed the light and left the room. “Now,” the boy thought, ‘‘ what am JZ to do? How get out of here?” ’ He had a few matches in his pocket, and lighting one, he looked around his prison. On the mantle-shelf he discovered a small piece of candle This he lighted, and then by its light began to explore the room. First of all he tried the doors, but these were se- curely fastened. Then he examined the windows, of which there were two, but they were both tight) nailed down, and the shutters were secured by pad- locks. It looked as though escape was not to be thought of. He went again to the doors. The one leading into the adjoining room was locked upon the opposite side, and the key was in the lock. Halted a key in his pocket, but owing to the other key being in the way, he could not try it here, so he turned to the other door. Here he tried his key, but it was much too smal! for the lock, . What could he do? He sat down in despair, Presently Hal thought of his knife. Could he not cut a hole through the eracked panel of the door large enough for him to reach through and turn the xi To think was to act. a is knife was strong and sharp, and in a remark- ably short time he had cut a hole large enough to admit his arm. Then he reached through, turned the key, and was at liberty. He did not pause even to bestow a glance upon “Seedy Jim,” who was still lying upon the floor in his drunken sleep, but opene the door and went out into the hall, carrying his candle with him. He descended the stairs, soon found bis way to the front door of the hall, and-a moment later was out upon the street. Then pausing only long enough to recognize the locality he was in, and to find that he had come out into Baxter street, he sped away as fast as he could toward the nearest station of the Elevated Railroad. He thought of the parcel for the Five Points Mis- sion House, which he still had in his pocket, but considering that *‘ Seedy Jim” had had a hand in his capture, he believed it to have been a “plant” to bring him into the neighborhood. And, even if not, he thought his first duty was to prevent, if possible, the contemplated burglary, He reached the railroad station just in time to catch a train. When our hero arrived. in due time, at Forty- second street and Fifth avenue, he stopped and looked around him to find the number “‘Sheeny the Turk” had mentioned. He glanced at the nearest house, to find whether he was above or below the right place, and having ascertained this, he was off ike a shot. The street was silent, and the boy’s running foot- steps rung out loud and clear, Had the robbers had a guard posted to warn them of danger, they certainly could have made their escape ere the boy could have roused the household. But such they had not. Reaching the house, Hal stopped. Not a light was to be seen nor a sound to be heard. He be- lieved he was the first to arrive. When he ascended the steps. however, and found the front door slight- ly open, he thought otherwise. He was trembling with excitement. What if he should be taken for a robber, and shot? He pushed the door carefully open far enough to The Detective’s Apprentice. admit his body and slipped into the hall. On the right-hand side was the library, the door standing ajar, and here Hal saw a light. He tip-toed to the door and looked in, and, upon their knees before a yet safe, saw ‘“‘Sheeny the Turk” and * Soft Pat- er. The boy’s heart was now beating so wildly that he almost feared it could be heard. What should he do? How give the alarm? At first he thought of going out and findinga policeman, but he raw this would give the robbers time to complete their work and to escape. He had stepped quietly back to the hall door under the first impulse of this thought, and now. for the first time feeling the key in the massive lock, he care- fully closed the door and locked it, taking the key out. At that moment the burglars in the library made aslight noise in their work, which so startled the boy that he cried out at the top of his voice: “Help! help! Thieves! Murder! Help! help!!” At the first cry of alarm the two burglars sprung up, dropping their tools and lantern in their haste, and made arush forthe hall door. But, what was their surprise and rage to find it closed and locked. ‘Help! help!” Hal continued to ery, ascending part way up the staircase to be out of reach of the Villains, who were now thundering at the door, ‘“*help! help!!”” Instantly doors were heard slamming in every part of the house, and Mr. Giles soon appeared at the head of the stairs, with a lamp in one hand and a revolver in the other, the butler at the same time appearing at the end of the hall, similarly armed. “Thieves in your house, sir!’ cried Hal, pointing to the two cowering villains. ‘‘Dont let them es- cape, sir! Neither Mr. Giles nor the butler had paused longer than a second, but advanced upon the thieves at once and comman¢ced them to surrender; which, as they beheld the gleaming pistols, the rascals im- mediately did. ‘ “Call a policeman,” Mr. Giles then said to the butler. The butler stepped to an automatic telegraph dial that hung on the wall, and turned the indicator around to the word ‘‘ police.””. Nothing further was necessary. Inafew minutes a policeman would be on the spot. ‘‘Now,” said Mr. Giles to the two burglars, “you gentlemen will please to seat vourselves upon the floor, And, if you make the slightest attempt to es- cape, you will be shot down like dogs,” ‘hey sat down. Then Mr Giles turned to Hel. “* How came you here, my lad? at this hour of the night?” he asked, ‘‘and how did you get into the house?” *T overheard those men planning to rob you, sir,” Hal answered; ‘‘and Icame here to warn you. found tbe door open, and came right in; and, the key being in the lock, I locked the door after me. Here-is the key, sir. Then [ raised \he alarm, and, here we are.” , “But where were you, and where were they? that yen sem overhear their plans to rob me?” Mr. Giles asked. “TI was sent with a parcel to a place down at the Five Points, sir; and whenI came near the place, that man,” pointing at *‘Sheeny the Tur*:,*’** sprung upon me and threw a blanket over my head. Then he and another fellow carried me into a house, where they intended to kill me when they came back from here. I heard it planned to rob you, sir, and as soon as I could get out of the house I came right here to warn you.’ **Oh! the poor boy!’ exclaimed Mrs. Giles. “* Why should they want to kill you?” “*T do not know. ma’am."’ Fal replied. glancing up at the beautiful lady. who had just appeared upon the scene, * I never did them any harm.” “IT believe you,” the lady said. ‘Mr. Giles, you must reward this boy.” * Certainly,” said Mr. Giles. ‘‘ Whatis yourname, my lad?” ‘ “Harold Vernet, sir.”’ “And where do you live?” Hal gave his address. “Very well. my boy. You shall be well rewarded for this night’s work, But, will you not siay here till morning?” ‘ “Oh! no, sir. Ithank you, sir; but Mrs. Smith would be anxious about me.” * And who is Mrs Smith?” ** She is the lady I live with. sir.” “Have you no parents then?” “No, sir.” “Oh! the poor boy!" Mrs. Giles again exclaimed. **How long have your parents been dead?” “J—I do not knuw, ma'am. I never knew my par- ents.” , ‘*Oh! poor hoy, poor boy! I—’ But, much to Hal’s relief, there at the door at that moment. Mr. Giles handed the key toa servant, who un- locked and opened the door, and a policeman step- ped What’ ted?” he asked " at’s wan * he asked. “Two prisoners for you,” said Mr. Giles. “These two men are ae Sag were captured in the act of robbing my house.’ ; trope nate ease the officer, “ that’s it, is it? Well, my fine fellows, get up here and let me try these bracelets on you.” And he displayed a pair of handcuffs. The men arose, and were locked together. “ What's your name and number. sir?” the officer then asked of Mr. Giles. And, being informed, he departed with his two prisoners, A few minutes later Hal was allowed to Cepart, and, with all possible speed, he hastened home, , came a loud knock
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10 CHAPTER IX. LCOKING FOR HAL. A snort time after Hal Vernet had left the tele- graph station to go tothe Five Points, Dick Smith was dispatched on an errand to an up-town hotel, and it was more than an hour before he returned. ** Where’s Hal Vernet?” he asked of the manager. ‘He has vot returned yet,” said the manager, ‘and I am getting a little anxious about him.”’ “Not returned?” Dick exclaimed, “‘then there is something wrong! He promised to wait here for me if | was out when he came back. Where did he go to, anyhow?” ‘To the Five Points Mission, with a payee “Then I'll skip right down there and see whether he got there all right or not,” said Dick. And away he started. When he arrived at the place he rung the bell, and the janitor of the building came to the door. ‘* Did one of us American District boys come here about an hour ago with a package?” Dick asked. “No,” was the answer, ‘‘ no boy has been here to- night.”’ “ Are you sure?” ““Of course I am,” said the man. body lost, strayed, or stolen?’ “ Yes,’ said Dick, ‘‘somebody’s lost, strayed, or stolen, sure. One of our boys started for this place over an hour ago, and he hasn’t been seen since, I came to see if he’s been here.”’ * Well, he didn’t get here,’ said the man, “ for I've been right here all the evening.” Dick was now thoroughly alarmed, He ran home as fast as his legs could carry him, and burst into the house like a young cyclone. “Mother, where’s Hal?’’ he gasped. ‘“Where is Hal?” the widow repeated, *‘ what do you mean? He has not come home yet.” **Not been here?” cried Dick. ‘* Then something's wrong, sure. He left the station more than an hour ** Why! any- ago, to go to the Five Points on an errand, and no | one has seen him since. killed him.” ** Oh! goodness bless us!"’ cried the widow, spring- ing to her feet, ‘you don’tsay that? Quick, Harry; on with your boots and go and notify the police. Oh! my poor boy, my poor boy!” As for little Joe, he began to cry outright. Harry Smith needed no second call, but was ready for the street in a moment. I believe Seedy Jim has ‘ What place was Hal sent to?” he asked of Dick. | ‘*The Five Points Mission,” Dick replied. “Did you go there?” ‘* Yes, and Hal has not been there.”’ ‘“* Where are you going now?”’ “T'm going to find Mr, Sharp, that detective friend of Hal’s. He can find him if any one can.”’ “All right,” said Harry. ‘“‘You go for him, and I'l notify the police at the nearest station,” ‘And, whatever you do,”’ Mrs. Smith called out as they left the house, ‘‘don’t come back without the boy.” Reaching the street, Harry hurried away in one direction and Dick in another, the latter heading straight for the police head-quarters on Mulberry street. When be arrived there he rushed into the building and demanded to see the ** boss.” The sergeant in charge asked what he wanted. | * Well,’’ Dick answered, ** I want to find Detective Shep just as quick as I can. Is he around here?” **No, he is not here. What do you want to find him for?” ‘“*Where does he live?” **What do you want to find him for?” “Oh,” Dick exclaimed, “ you police*fellers don’t know apything but to ask questions! I want to find him because a friend of his is missing, and we think ale been murdered. Now, tell me quick where he ives.” ‘* Well, my lad, he lives at No. — West —— street: but—”’ “Never mind the ‘but’ part of it,” cried Dick, and he was away cn the instant, He did not pause to think that perhaps the sergeant was about to in- form him that the detective was not at home. He did not pause to think of anything, in fact. When he reached the detective’s house, he sprung up the steps three at a time, and gave a furious tug at the bell, The detective happened to be at home, and came to the door in person. *“ Whats all this racket about?’ he demanded, seeing his‘waller was a boy. ‘*Do you wan to pull the bell out? But—hello! it’s you, eh, Dick? bat brings you here?” “I've come after you,” said Dick. ‘t Hal Vernet is lost, and I’m afraid Seedy Jim has laid him out again,’ ‘Is that so?"’ the detective asked, quite solicitous- ly. ‘Come in, lad, and tell me all about it.” Dick entered the house, and then the detective questioned him. *“ When did you see Hal last?” he asked. “About nine o’clock. He then started to take a peure down to the Mission at the Five Points, and as not been seen since.”’ ‘Did you go to see whether he had been there?” “Yes, sir; and they bad not seen him.” “That is strange. Why do you think Seedy Jim had a hand in his disappearance?” “Because Jim is out of jail, and has been seen prowling around.” ‘Did you see the party’who left the parcel which Hal was sent out to deliver?” ‘* Yes, I saw him, but | don’t know who he is.” * Would you know him again?” * Yes, sir.” * Can you describe him?’ | ‘Not very well, I guess; but he was pretty good- looking, and had black hair and eyes.” ‘* Have you notified the police?’ ‘*My brother Harry went to do that when I start- ed for here.” The detective glanced at his watch. ‘““Pshaw!”’ he exclaimed, *‘I wish I could go at once, but I can’t. I have an appointment to keep. I will change my attire, however, and then if the ea is not here in half an hour I won’t wait longer. Vill you wait for me?” “Yes, sir,’ Dick answered. “Allright. Sit down, and I will soon be back.” And the detective left the room. Dick sat down, and looked around at the objects in the room while he awaited the detective’s return. Presently a man entered the room, at whom Dick stared in surprise. Surprised to find such a person there, and moreso that he should enter the huuse without ringing, The man was, to all appearances a truckman. He was clad in the overalls and checked jumper peculiar to that craft. He returned Dick’s stare for a few moments, and then laughed. ‘* Don’t you know me?” he asked. Dick recognized the voice of Detective Sharp. “Sho!” he ejaculated, “I wouldn’t have known you, never.”’ The half-hour was almost gone when there came a ring at the bell, and the detective went to the dcor and admitted a young man. ‘** Well,” the detective asked, ‘‘ what luck?” ** No luck,’’ was the answer, ‘tI have been to every pawn-shop of any importance in the city, but can’t find a trace of the diamonds.” ‘Of course you told the dealers to watch for them?” ‘*Yes. sir. And, I stretched the story a little, too. I told them it would not do for them to try any funny work, for every pawn-shop in the city would be kept under surveillance, night and day.” “A good idea. We can’t trust some of those fel- lows. If they can get hold of forty thousand dol- lars’ worth of diamonds for four or five thousand dollars, they are not going to run and tell the police about it, and thus lose a fortune. Not much! “ Well, about the other case?’’ ‘* Nothing new.”’ ** Anythiog further to report?” ** Nothing.” , “Well, Squirrel will see you at the Central at eight o’clock to-morrow morning. I must bid you good-night now, as I have business on hand. “Come, my lad,” to Dick, *‘and we’ll be off.” And the three left the house, Detective Sharp and Dick taking the quickest rail route for down-town, while the other detective, the ‘* Squirrel,’? who was one of Sharp’s assistants, went to his home. ** Now,”’ said the detective, when they had arrived at the station where they left the train, ‘‘ we'll go first to your home. Hal may have turned up by this time.”’ “*That’s so,” said Dick, and to his home they went. But Hal was not there. Then they went to the telegraph station, but that was closed for the night. “Now,” said the detective, ‘suppose you were sent on the same errand Hal was sent on, what route would you take?” ‘*The shortest one. of course,’ Dick answered. ‘* Well, then, go ahead and lead me to the Five | Points by that route.”’ * Allright,’? assented Dick, and they set out. When they arr.ved at “ Paradise Square’’ Dick anne ; * Well?”? the detective interrogated. ‘I was thinking,” said Dick, ‘* whether he would cross here or fol ow th + sidewalk around,” *: Which would you do?” “Oh! I'd just skip right across] “Well, then we'll suppose that's what Hal did, Lead on” They started across, when ey the detective stopped and picked something up, It was a lead- pencil, with a steel cap ontheend. He had been watching the ground all the way, and now was at last rewarded by finding something. Pye you eversee Hal have this pencil?” he asked of Dick. ‘Yes!’ said Dick, excitedly, ‘‘it is his. of it, for I gave it to him.” They walked on to the corner of the street and turned into Baxter street. Here they paused. “This clew seems to show that Hal has met with foul play,” the detective mused. ‘* He must be the victim of some foul intrigue.” ‘*T euessI don’t just get onto that word infreeg,”’ said Dick, ‘‘ but I’il bet poor Hal is in ¢routla {/ And— But,” and he grasped the detective’s arm as he whispered, “ there goes the very man who left the par- ced_at the station, and he’s leading Secdy Jim!” i detective looked and recognized Macy Bland- g. I’m sure CHAPTER X, DICK SMITH TAKES LESSONS. Azovt the time that Dick Smith called at Detec- tive Sharp’s house, Macy Blanding was seated in Mike O’Glory’s saloon. In fact, he had been there for more than an hour. He seemed to be waitin for some one. As the time pee by, however, an the one for whom he waited did not come, he grew impatient. “Hang it alll” he presently exclaimed, *‘ where can the man be? He promised to bave been here an hour or more ago. Mike, another glasa of beer.” The beer was proviled, and O’Glory said: ey “You seem tobe in b.d temper, Mr. Blanding What's th’ matter?” ? *T amin a bad temper,” said Macy. ‘Sheeny the { pa | thing though that would send him up for 7 fe. Turk promised to meet me here, and here I’ve been waiting for him an hour or more.” “The deuce!” exclaimed Mike. ‘‘ Why didn’t you say somethin’ about it before? Sheeny the Turk sent a young feller here two_hours ago to find Soft Patter—you know him? and I think maybe Sheeny and Patter have got a job on hand.” ‘“*The fool!’ cried Macy. ‘*The first he knows he’lt be shut up again! lwish he woul! do some- Con- found bim! a nice one he is to attend to business. Well, I s’pose I’! have to drop into his place and see if [can find him.’’ And draining his glass and bid- ding Mike good-night, Macy left’the saloon. He went at once to ‘‘ Sbeeny the Turk’s ” lodgings. Entering the hall, he lighted a match and ascend- ed the stairs, and then tried the door of one of the Turk’s rooms. It was locked. “Ha!” be thought ‘‘the rascal 7s out, and the place is locked up.”’ , On stepping to the next door and trying that, however, he found iv open. His match had now burned out, but he struck another, and seeing the candle in the bottle on the table, lighted it. Then he looked around him. The first object to meet his view was ‘Seedy Jim,” lying at full length on the floor, and instantly he suspected foul play; but on a closer examination he found that the young rascal was only drunk. “This is curious business,” Macy muttered, “Where can the kid be?” And taking up the candle he entered the other room, the door of which stood open FB ut he found no one there, and returned to “ Seedy Jim,” Placing the candie upon the table, he gave the young rascal a thorough shaking, to rouse him from bis stupor, “Wasser masser?”’ the drunken youth finally man- aged to say. ‘* What's the matter with you ?” Macy demanded, giving him another severe shaking. “ Nossin’ masser me!’’ said Jim. ‘*Can’t ye leave feller “lone?” and he tried to lie down again. ‘Where's the Turk?’ Macy asked. as he jerked the youth to his feet and braced him against the wall, ““Where’s Turk? Turk gone?”’ “Yes, he’s gone. Where is he?’’ ‘*}Jamed ’*f 1 kncw,” seid Jim, who now began to realize where he was. ‘ Guess I must been *sleep, ain’t 1?” “You've been dead drunk.”? Macy answered, ‘* Now, tell me. Where’s that boy?” **Oh! he’s gone down th’ sewer!” **Down the sewer?” ““Yes, That's what Turk said be’d do with him when he came back from cracking th’ crib, any- how.” “What crib?” * Didn’t tell me. I must ’a’ got full, an’ they left me here. I was goin’ with ’em.” Under the severe shat ing which Macy had contin- ued to give him, ‘Seedy Jim ” now began to collect his scatiered wits co as to be able to talk. ‘Who went with the Turk?”’ Macy asked. “ Soft Patter went with him. When we brought the boy here, Turk sent me to bring Soft Patter, I found him, an’ then we all took a drink or two of rum. an’ that’s th’ last I can remember.” “Where was the boy then?” “He was in th’ other room with his bands tied.” Macy allowed Jim to csop to the floor again, and once more tock up the candle and wentinto the next room. This time he looked around carefully, and soon found the cords with which Hal Vernet had been bound. Then he next discovered the chips which the boy had made in cutting the hole through the door, and understood at once that he had made his escape. Macy was wild with rage, and poured forth a vol ley of “ cuss-words”’ piratically. ; Was ‘*Sheeny the Turk’’ playing him false? He was balf-inclined to Lelieve it; but, did he not have the advantage of the ‘‘Turk’’ inevery way? And was it not to the ‘“Turk’s” interest to serve him? He certainly thought so. No, he concluded, the * Turk ” was not playing him false; but, eer in with “Soft Patter,’ the latter had enticed him away. Anyhow, be would see the “Turk” on the morrow, ard find out what was going on, Going back to “Seedy Jim” in the edjoining rocm again, Macy roused him up from his sleep once more. and placed bis hat on his head for him. “Come,” be said, “you worthless young jail-bird, and I'll see if 1can get youhome,” And balf-lead- ing and half-carrying him, he managed to get him out of the room and down the stairs. He had forgotten to blow out the candle or to close the door. ; Once down the stairs he gave the youth sucha lively shaking that he succeeded in waking him. and then assisting his staggering steps, led him from the house. And then it was that they were seen by Dick Smith and Detective Sharp. “Are you sure he is the man?’ the detective asked, . “Yes,” answered Dick, “ he’s the man, sure,” “Well, we'll let him go. 1I know him. and where he lives, and can easily find him if he’s wanted. We'll go into the house though, and see what is going on in there.” etoily “I'm with you,” said Dick, “every time!” He now had the ‘“ detective fever,” and decidedly badly, 0. The detective entered the hall, followed by Dick, and lighted a match as Macy Blanding had done, Then they ascended the stairs,
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® poy,” said the detective. On coming out with ‘Seedy Jim,’’ Macy had left one of the doors open, as mentioned; and the detec- | tive, seing the light in the room, did not hesitate io | enter. close the door after them. * This must be the place we want, Dick,” he said. “Now, let’s see what is in here.’’ And taking up the candle he passed into the adjoining room. And, seeing no one there, motioned Dick to | | asked. The first he noticed were the chips Hal had made | in cutting his way out, and from them his eye na- turally turned toward the hole iu the door. But he said nothing. Next, he found the cords that had held Hal’s wrists, and picked them up. * Hal” be exclaimed, ‘“‘some one has been a pris- oner herein this room, and has escaped, See this string. Dick? Now, was the prisoner man or boy? The ties, or loops, in this string will just about fit a boy’s wrists. Hold up your hands.” Dick obeyed. The detective arranged tho string as nearly as | possible on Dick’s wrists as it had been on Hal’s, and then said: “There! the loops fit your wrists, and _ therefore we'll say the prisoner wasa boy. Now, who cut the cord? If any one besides the prisoner had done it, it would show one. clean cut; but it don’t. been cut here and there and everywhere, leaving long ends and short ends. Therefore, we'll say the boy prisoner cut it himself. “Then, having got bis hands free, what did he do | next? See those chips there on the floor, Dick? and the hole cut in the door? Now, let’s examine that,” | And as he spoke the detective held the light close to the hole, and looked carefully at the cutting. ‘*Did Hal have a knife?” he asked. “Yes,” answered Dick. . “Did you ever see it?” “ Yes.” * What kind was it? large or small?’ “Tt was just like this one,” said Dick drawing a two-blade jack-knife from his pocket. “We both bought our knives at the same time.” “Hal” the detective exclaimed. ‘This is fortu- nate. Now, Dick, you set to work and make this hole a little larger. Work as though your life de- pended on it.” * All right,” said Dick, and to work he went. When he had made the hole about an inch larger the detective bade him stop, and then, after stirring up the chips, asked him if he could distinguish his chips from those that were on the floor first. *No,”’ said Dick, ‘‘of course not. about the same size and shape.”’ “Yhatis another proof that the gerd was a “You see his strength in cutting was about equal to yours. Now, J willmake a few chips, and we'll see if they are larger than the others.” And taking the knife he made the hole an inch larger still. * Th-re,’’ he said, ‘* you see how much larger my chips are. That settles the q estion. The prisoner was a boy, and we have every reason to believe it was Hal Vernet. Now, I—’’ But he was suddenly interrupted by Dick, who at that moment stooped and picked up something, exclaiming: ‘* This settles it! The prisoner was Hal! Here is a button off his coat!” ‘ “That’s a lucky find!’ exclaimed the detective. “Now we are sure of our ground. We know that Hal Vernet has been a prisoner here, and that he has escaped. He may have escaped only a short time ago, and may be at home now. We'll go right there and see.”’ And they left the house at once, True enough, when they reached Dick’s home Hal was there, having just arrived. It was a joyful return, Little Joe, who had not closed his eyes in sleep, now cried again, and the widow’s eyes, too, were dimmed by tears, While Harry, who had returned home about an hour be- fore, quite in despair, now laughed with gladness, In that family Hal was son and brother, well-be- loved. Hal told of his adventures to an eagerly attentive audience, and when he was done Detective Sharp said: ' “ There isa my gtery mack all ry ng does not appear upon the surface, W ot t to kill Hal Vernet?” “A concde * That’s plain enough,” said Dick Smith. “It is Seedy Jim’s work. He wants to put Hal out of the “That may account for /és part in it,’ said the de- tective, ‘but not for Sheeny the Turk’s and Mac Blanding’s. They have a deeper interest in it, and must find out whatitis. Seedy Jim would’ never have got them to help him put tae boy out of the way. o By the way, Hal, have you the parcel yet that you started to deliver? 3 f * Yes,”’ Hal answered, here it is, but I see I have st the wrapper. yA an he the better,” said the detective. “ Per- haps we can see its contents.” And he took the parcel. But as he did so the wrapper suddenly gave way and its contents fel] to the floor, proving to be nothing more nor Jess than two old newspapers, “There! just asI suspected! This was a put-up job on you, my boy, from beginning to end. I must make it my business to find out what the object was. “ Now, Hal, my boy, I want you to do alittle de- tective work for me to-morrow. Can you?” “IT would like to,” said Hal, ‘but 1 don’t think I can get away from my work.’ 4 Oh, i you can, v4 well as not,’’ said the detec- tive. want you to go home with me now, and help me to-morrow. Dick can explain to your em- ee where you are, and if he does not like it I will get you another place and a better one. Besides It has | They are all | | | | | | The Detective’s Apprentice. it is not safe for you around here now, if such raseals as Sheeny the Turk are after your life.” That is so,” said Mrs. Smith, ‘‘I think, Hal, I would not go to work again till Mr, Sharp finds out what is going on,” “ Well,’”’ said Hal, ‘tif vow think so, I won’t.” ‘““Then you'll help me to morrow?” the detective ‘* Yes, sir. ing.’’ “You have no objections, madam ?”’ ‘‘No, sir; for 1 think the boy will come to no harm with you.” “You may depend on that, madam. T simply want him to watch a boy for me to-morrow, and he will be in no danger,” ** Very well; he may go if he wants to.”’ And so it was arranged. And when Steven Sharp returned home, Hal Vernet went with him, having laid aside his uniform and dressed himself in his best. I'll go with you, if Mrs. Smith is will- CHAPTER XI. “WHOM DO YOU SUSPECT?” Earty next morning Detective Sharp and Hal Ver- net entered police head-quarters, and the detective took Hal with him into the presence of the In- spector. : : ‘* What lad is this? the lost Charley Ross?” the Inspector asked, glancing up from his papers and reports, *No,” answered the detective, ‘‘he is a young friend of mine. My protege, 1 will say. Hemet with quite an adventure last night. He was kidnap- ped by Sheeny the Turk, who intended to kill him and drop him into the sewer. He overheard the Turk and Soft Patter plan to rob Mr. Giles’s house, managed to escape, went and warned the inmates of the Louse, and the burglars were captured. Heis quite a hero.” ith ‘So, this is the boy, is it?” said the Inspector, “I was just reading the report of the arrest when you entered, He is a brave little fellow. Why does Sheeny the Turk want him out of the way, though?” “1 don’t know,” the detective replied, ‘ but I shall look into the case.” ‘ “ What about the Giles diamonds?” ‘‘ Nothing thus far. There is some secret back of that robb ry. That they were stolen by some one in the house [am certain; and I think T know whom. And last night Sheeny the Turk and Soft Patter gained entrance into the house without any trouble, in a way that makes me think they had some assistance within. There is some connection between the two cases. I am going up to Mr. Giles’s now. 3 “And, by the way, Macy Blanding—that slippery chap we were after last fall—seems to be connected with Sneeny the Turk in his plot against this boy. I don’t want him to be allowed to see the Turk. Will you attend to it?” * Yes, [il fix that.” E “Allright. Now, I want to put the Squirrel on Macy Blanding’s track to-day, and if you think it best to continue watching the pawn-shops for the diamonds, please put another man on with me for that purpose.” * All right. Keep me posted on your movements. But, what are you going to do with your young friend ? “He is going to do alittle detective work for me -d ” to-day. The detective and Hal then left the office, and the detective found bis assistant, the ** Squirrel,” wait- ing to see him. ; Sharp gave him some instructions, and then the three loft the building: Steve and Hal going up- town, and the * Squirrel,” down, ‘Now, my boy,” said the detective, as they turn- ed from Bleecker street into Broadway, ‘Tl tell you what I want of you. But first let me aska ques ion: Did you see Mr. Giles’s son last night while you were in the house—a boy about your own size and age?” *‘ No, sir.” answered Hal. ‘‘I did not see him.” “Well, Mr, Giles /as such a son, and he is the boy I want you to watch to-day. You can keep your eyes upon the house till you see him come out, and then, if you can, you may make his acquaintance. I want you to let me know to-night whom you have seen him talking with, and where he has spent the day. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir; and I'll do the best I ean for you.” “Of course. Well, here issome money bor you, to buy your dinner with, and soforth, And, remember this: if you see the bo. give anything to any per- son, do not lose sight of that person till you know who he is and where he lives. Come to my house to-night at seven o’clock. “Tf however, anything turns up that you think I ought to know about at once, go and tell the In- spector at the central. But that is not likely to appen,”’ 4 AD right,”’ said Hal, “Tl tend to it,” They walked leisurely up Broadway to_ Eighth street, then crossed over through Clinton Place to Sixth avenue, where they took the Elevated Railroad, and then were soon in the neighborhood of the Giles mansion, “Now,” said the detective, as they neared the house, “here I will leave you, You must keep your eves fixed upon the house. Let me see what sort of detective ability you possess, Who knows but you may some day become one of us? They both laughed. and the detective went on to the house and rung the bell. He was without disguise. The door was soon opened. by the same man-ser- vant the detective had seen on the occasion of hig 11 former visit, and to him he again tendered his card, asking him to present it to Mr. Giles at once. This time the card bore the detective’s true name, No further need was there for secrecy, now that a robbery had been committed that was known to all the household. Ina moment the servant returned, and the detec- tive was conducted into the library. Mr, Giles glanced first at the card and then at the detective, in a perfectly bewildered manner. ‘1 see you are puzzled, sir,”’ the detective said, as the servant left the room. “I am not now in dis- use, ‘*Oh! then you were in disguise yesterday ?” *'Yes, sir,” * Wonderful, wonderful,” “So your house was entered last night by burg- lars, Mr. Giles.” **Yes; and but for a brave little boy who warned us of their presence, they would no doubt have car- ried off a considerable amount of property.” “Have you any idea, sir, how they gained en- trance into the house?” ‘““Yes sir. Either the front doors were not se- curely fastened when the house was closed, or the burglars skillfully picked the locks and slipped the bolts, though I fail to understand how they could accomplish that.”’ “Then you favor the idea that the doors were not securely locked?” “Yes, sir. And yet, the butler says he locked them; and he is a very careful servant.” ‘Let us see, then,” said the detective, ‘‘ whether there are grounds for supposing the doors were un- locked after he locked them. Will you allow me, sir, to examine the locks and the hall?” Mr. Giles’s face paled, *Certainly,’’ he answered, and led the way into the hall. ‘* Now,’ said the detective, ‘ here are two bolts. One is at the top of the door, and the other at the bottom. Then there is the lock, To open this door from without, without damaging it, is simply impossible. “*T would like to see the butler,”’ *T am he,’’ said the man who had admitted the detective into the house, and who was now standing near. *T notice,” said the detective, ‘ that the top bolt of the door is beyond a man’s reach, Will you in- form me how you move it?” “Yes, sir. I use this iron hook.” And as the butler spoke, he took from a nail be- hind the door an iron rod, about three feet in length, with a hook at one end, “Did you find that hook in its place when ycu came to lock the doors after the burglars were cap- tured and taken away?” “Yes, sir. That is all?’ as the detective stood thoughtful. “Yes; that is all. I would like to see, though, the servant who swept and dusted the hall this morning.” ‘*Call her,” said Mr, Giles to the butler, Inafew moments a neat appearing young Irish girl came. * At what hour did you clean this hall this morn- ing?’ the detective asked, ** About six o'clock, sir.” “Did you notice anything particularly out of order?” ** No, sir.” ‘“Not even those chairs?” pointing to two recep- tion chairs. “Well, sir, one of those was not precisely in its place, but it was no doubt pushed aside in the ex- citement last night.” The chairs in question were two high backed, leather-covered affairs, of antique style. “You dusted them both, I suppose?” ‘*T wiped them with a damp cloth, sir,”’ “Did you notice a mark of any kind on the seat of either, as though a person had stood on it?” ‘* How did you know about that, sir?” “T am merely asking the question, What sort of mark was it?” ‘Well, sir,” said the girl, “on the chair that I found a little out of place, there was the print of a naked foot. 1 could make it out distinetly, The floor was a little dusty, and the foot left its mark on the leather.” : ‘That is all,” said the Ccetective, and Mr, Giles led the way into the library again, It will be seev that the detective’s first unexpected discovery of « footprint. on a chair-bottom, had led him to make inquiries in that direction once more. He now firmly believed that Mr. Giles’s son was not only a thef, but an accomplice of Sheeny the Turk. A strange position for a rich man’s son, but the proofs appeared positive. *Well,”’ Mr. Giles queried, as he closed the door, “ what is your opinion?” “My opinion is,” said the detective, “‘that the door was opened by some one in the house, after the butler had locked it for the night, and that the per- son who stole the diamonds end the one who opened the door for the burglars, are one and the same,” ‘** And whom do you suspect?” Mr. Giles then ask- ed. trying to foree himself to be calm, pe you desire me to name the person?” “e do ” ‘‘T suspect your own son.” ‘““My God! then my own suspicions are well- <oungas is sara ict ‘ was you Suspicions that tur t- tention upon him at first, Mr. Giles,” panes te og can that be? I mentioned it to no one, sir. “yz read your mind, sir.” “ Well,” said Mr, Giles, determinedly, ‘I desire
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of .= ne ee tt 1 } SS 12 you to go On, sir, and find the lost diamonds, if pos- sible, and bring me indisputable proof of my son’s dig Until that is furnished, I must regard the oy as innocent. Poor boy! evil association has done its work with him!” * The case is now more in the way of a private de- tective, sir,” said Sharp, ‘But since I have gone thus far in it, I will carry it out for you. “May I ask you whether Mrs. Giles entertains the same suspicions, sir?” ‘**T fear she does,” was the reply, ‘‘ but neither of us has ventured to mention it to the other.” “It is a sad_thing,” said the detective, ‘and I er hope I may be able to prove the boy inno- cent,” “Tt is sad, indeed,”’ said Mr. Giles, “ and I hope as you do. The boy’s life has been anything but a prensenh one. But I will tell you about him when see you again. At present I must beg to bring our interview tc a close. I am almost overcome with grief.”’ The detective rose to go. “*T will report to you at the earliest possible mo- ment, sir,’ he said. ‘and if your boy és guilty, you can then take the proper steps toward his correction. On the other hand, if I can prove his innocence I will relieve your mind at once. Good-morning, sir.” _“Good-morning,’’ said Mr. Giles. And the detec- tive went away. —-- CHAPTER XII. A CLEW AT LAST. MEANWHILE, Hal Vernet was not idle. Detective Sharp had been in the house but a few moments when a boy came out, and much to his surprise, Hal recognized him. ‘Why!’ he exclaimed to himself. “kick me if that ain’t Ikey Moses, the boy Dick Smith whipped one day on the Bowery. What in the world can he be doing here? .He’s coming tis way, I guess, and T'll ask him,” The boy was Mr. Giles’s son. When he came near to where Hal was standing, the latter said: 7 a ao Ikey Moses, what are you doing away up ere?” fit boy gave a start of surprise, and glanced ai a ‘““My name is Henry Giles,” he said. ‘‘ You have made a mistake.” ‘Mistake your grandmother!’ cried Hal. ‘*Do ou think I don't know you? You’re the boy Dick smith whipped one day down in the Bowery!” **] tell you you are mistaken in the person,” said Master Giles. ‘“ Please do not address me again.” And he went on down the avenue, “Well!” Hal exclaimed in amazement, “if this don’t just take the cake! Iam almost certain he is Ikey Moses; but, if he és Mr. Giles’s son, as he says he is. I must keep him in sight.” The boy walked slowly down the avenue to Forty- second street, turned into that thoroughfare, Hal following him carefully, and at length entered the waiting-room of the Grand Central Depot, Hal was in doubt what to do; but, knowing that he must keep the boy in sight, he tollowed him into the room, Young Giles was glancing around, as though he expected to meet some one, and taking advantage of the fact that his back was toward him at the moment he entered, Hal slipped behind a convenient door that stood partiy open. Not finding the person he evidently éxpected to ‘meet, the boy sat down, and, as it happened, right by an open window. * Now,” Hal thought, “ the place where I ought to be is right under that window. Then if any one speaks to the boy there, I can hear what is said.” And he watched his chance to leave the room un- seen. Presently young Giles turned and looked out the window for a mo n-nt, and Hal instantly slipped from the room. Tuen he made his way to the win- dow, and posted himself under it to listen. For half an hour or more the boy waited in silence, two or three times going to the door to make sure that young Giles was still in the same place, and at last his patience was rewarded, Hesawaman enter the room, whom he recognized as the man who had sive the parcel at the telegraph office on the previous night. R Ginger!” he exclaimed under his breath, “ that’s the very man who got me into trouble last night! Now, I must keep my ears open wide.” ‘Hallo! Ikey, you’re here, eh?” he heard the man exclaim as he approached the boy. “There! I was sure of it!” Hal thought. “Yes, here I am,” the boy answered, ‘‘Haveyou heard what has happened?”’ a $ No,” said Blanding, for he the man was, ‘‘ what s it?” “Why, dad and Soft Patter have been taken in.” “The deuce!” Macy cried. ‘* Where?” * At Mr. Giles’s house. last night.” Here was a grand revelation for Hal Vernet, Ikey Moses was ** Sheepy the Turk’s’’ son. He remem- bered having heard the “Turk,” last night, telling ‘*Soft Patter’’ that the person in the next room was “only my bo Ikey,” when in fact it was Hal him-) self, a prisoner. Macy Blanding uttered a fierce oath, at the boy’s words, and Hal would no doubt have heard much of interest to himself; but at that moment a rough hand was clapped on his shoulder, and a voice ex- claimed: : ‘Why are you listening here, boy?” Iv was a policeman, Macy Blanding and Ikey Moses both sprung to their feet and looked out, and Macy recognized Hal at once. Hal was making some excuse to the policeman, and it was evidently a most satisfactory one, for he was allowed to go at once, : “Thunder!” Macy exclaimed, ‘that boy has heard all we said! 1 must follow him and— But, you meet me here again at one o’clock this after- noon!” “All right,’ said Tkey; “if [ can I will.’ And they parted; Macy following Hal Vernet, and Ikey going back to the Giles mansion. * Ten thousand curses upon Levi Moses’s head!” Macy Blanding muttered. ‘*Hehas spoilt my game! I wonder how he found the place out? He has no doubt followed me. Oh! the fool, the fool!” ‘* Well, I'll settle this young Vernet now, for good. ZT sha’n't live to trouble me, anyhow. And then I must see the 'Turk at once, and learn just how the case stands. “TI was a fool to take him into it at all, but1l wanted to use him to get young Vernet out of the way. I didn’t like to tackle that sort of work my- self. I’ll do it myself now though, and I'll make sure work of it, too.” And keeping his eyes upon our hero he followed him to the station of the Ele- vated Railroad, where they both boarded the same train for down-town., *“Confound that policeman!’’ Hal was thinking. “But for him I might have learned something of greater importance for Mr.Sbharp. Iwonder if tkey and the man looked out when he spoke to me? TI forgot to take notice. “Well, I guess when I tell Mr. Sharp that Mr. Giles’s boy is the son of Sheeny the Turk, he’ll be a little surprised, anyhow. I wonder how in the world itis? It is a mystery too deep for me, and I give it up. ‘*But, I won’t forget something else that came into my head when I learned that Ikey is the Turk's son, and I'll attend toit at once. Lordy! won Mr. Sharp be surprised though! if itis as I think? Well, Tl soon find out.” Little did the boy imagine that Macy Blanding was following him, determined to have his life. Our hero was about to do a very unwise thing, as you shall see. Having in his possession an impor- tant clew, he should have followed Detective Sharp’s advice, and gone at once to police head quarters; but he decided to act for himself. Detective Sharp had told him about the diamonds stolen from Mrs. Giles, and of his suspicions that her son was the thief; and when Hal found that Ikey Moses was an inmate of the house, however he came there, and that he was the son of *‘Sbeeny the Turk,” he suddenly remembered that on the pre- vious night he had seen the Turk hiding something under the bricks of the hearth in his rooms in Bax- ter street. What was more natural then, than for him to ask himself the question: ‘* Was he not concesleng the Giles diamonds ?”” There Hal was going, to find out the truth of the matter. And perhaps any one else would have taken the same course. When the train stopped at Chatham Square the boy left the car and descended to the street, and lost no time in making his way to his destination. Making sure of the house he entered the hall, no mre paying any attention to him, and went up the stairs. The doors of the Turk’s rooms were closed, but not locked, and opening one of them Hal, went into the room where he had been a prisoner, He was almost trem‘ling with excitement, and pausing only long enough to assure himself that he was alone, he advanced into the adjoining room and to the hearth, and knelt down where he had seen the Turk kneeling. Had he been Jess nervous he would no doubt have heard the door creak slightly, and have beheld the evil face of Macy Blanding peering in upon him. But he did not har the sound, Quickly brushing away the ashes, he tried to lift one of the bricks, but could get no hold of it. For several minutes he tried in vain, and Macy Blanding during t' at time advanced silently into the room and closed the door behind him, _ Presently Hal thought of his knife, and opening its largest blade he inserted it between the bricks, and one of them was quickly displaced. Then it was an easy matter to remove the other three or four that were loose, and when this was done a sinall package was revealed. This Hal brought out and quickly opened, and Macy Blanding’s eyes fell upon a wealth of diamonds such as be had never seen before. He drew a knife from his breast and advanced a step toward the boy, who, all unconscious of his danger, was admiring the sparkling jewels. * Ah—ha!”’ Macy thought, * last night was not the Turk’s frst raid upon the Giles mansion, eh? Heavens! what a wealth of diamonds! And all mine, too. One quick thrust of this knife, and I will be safe again. But, what ails the boy now?” And indeed the villain might well ask himself the question; for. suddenly dropping the diamonds, Hal had uttered a low, cry and now gazed fixedly at something which he held in his hand. And that something was the half of a child’s necklace, the very counterpart of the pe which Aunt Polly Bar- ker had given to him at her decease. As Macy Blanding beheld what it was that the boy was looking at so intently, his face grew suddenly as pale as death. Was the hand of Providence at work, to place this clew SO unexpectedly into the boy’s hands? He almost believed it; but he was now more than ever resolved to have the boy’s life, and raising his knife he advanced upon his victim With cat-like steps. The Detective’s Apprentice. If a rescuer was to come, he had barely five seconds of time in which to act. When the ‘‘Squirrel” left the central police sta- tion, after having received instructions from Detec- tive Sharp, he started at once for Catherine street, to find Macy Blanding. He knew that ‘‘ gentleman” by sight, and when he entered the street, in search of the number De- tective Sharp had given him, he happened to meet Macy face to face. The Squirrel was disguised with a false beard, an assortment of which he always carried with him. Macy proceeded to tie Bowery, where he spent some little time in a saloon, and then went up-/own to the Grand Central Depot. Of course the Squir- rel was shadowing him the while. He saw him speak to Ikey Moses, but failed to hear what was said, ncr did he know who Ikey was, When, however, the policeman spoke to Hal Vernet, and Macy discovered that the boy bad been listen- ing, the * Squirrel” heard bim say: “That boy bas heard all we said! J must follow him and— But, you meet me here again at one o’clock this afternoon!” The * Squirrel’? was quick to act, and drawing a note book from his pocket he hastily wrote the fol- lowing: “STEVEN SHARP, ‘* 300 Mulberry street, City: “M. B. has appointment with a boy, Grand Central Depot, one o’clock. SQUIRREL.” The message written, he tore out the leaf, and as‘ he left the waiting-room he made a peculiar sign to the officer who Lad interrupted Hal, and dropped it to the ground. The officer picked it up, returned the same pecu- liar sign to the detective, and then the latter started again upon the track of the man he was shadowing. or did he lose sight of him. And thus it was that, as the murderous knife was psa to descend upon Hal Vernet, a voice suddenly cried: * Hold! you cowardly asassin !” And Macy Hlandipg, looking quickly around. found himself face to face with a gleaming revolver, held by the steady band of *‘Squirrel,’”’ the spotter. It was a striking tableau. CHAPTER XIII. DETECTIVE WORK, Down in the Sixth Ward, occupying the block bounded by Center, Leorard, Elm and Franklin streets, stands New York's famous jail—the Tombs. It is a low, square building, of the ancient Egyp- tian style of architecture, and one can scarcely look upon it without bis mind reverting to that myste- rious Jand of pyramids, through which flows the river Nile. It was to this place Detective Sharp hastened on leaving Mr. Giles’s hovse on Fifth avenue, He entered the building, made his wants known, and was conducted at once to tie cell where * Sheeny the Turk ” had been lodged for s: fe-keeping. ‘“‘Good-morning, Sheeny,” the detective said, “TI see you are again deprived of yourliberty. Whatis the charge this time?” The “Turk” knew Detective Sherp, having had dealings with him on several occasions, * None of your business what th’ charge is, Mr. Long-nose!” he answered, sullenly. ‘But, you know well enough what itis. You've come here for information.” ** And if ‘hat is the case, of course you'll oblige me by giving it?” “* No, I won’t.”’ “Tt might make your own sentence lighter, you know, Sheeny.”’ “That don’t go down!” the “Turk” exclaimed. ‘“You can’t catch old birds with chaff, as th’ sayin’ is; an’ I’m an old bird. I don’t swaller taffy worth a cent.” ‘Then you won't talk, eh?’ * Nary talk.” “Tm sorry for that, Sheeny. because I thought you would give me a few points about Macy Bland- ing.’ The “Turk ” was not a little surprised. “Macy Blanding?” he repeated. “‘What do you s"pose I know about him?” “Ob! T don’t ad Maen you know very much about him, Sheeny; but want to find out why itis he desires to put young Hal Vernet out of the way.” ‘Who's been a-spoutin’ to you about ‘hat ?” the “Tur * demanded. *Oh! never mind who it was,” ‘* Was it Seedy Jim?” se Maybe,”” The * Turk ” grinned. “I don’t believe you know anything at all,” he said.“ You're only a-fishin’ for facts.’ a oe I tell you what I do know? es."" “Well, [know that Macy Blanding is making a tool of you, Sheeny, and if you were only half ag smart as you think you are. you'd see through his little game. Suppose you had killed that boy last night, and it i. been found out, whose neck, think you, would be in danger?—yours or Macy Bland- ing’s The rascal’s face oe white with rage as he saw the truth of this, and the detective thought he would be able to draw from him a full confession of the whole affair. But he was mistaken, “7 make it right with Macy Blanding,” the “Turk ” said, “ but I won’t tell you anything. All you know is what that boy has told you, and ti won't add anything to your knowledge,” “You won't even tell me who it was that opened ? 4 aoe’ +
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— a a ‘ ( ort the door for you last night, when you and Soft Pat- ter went to Mr. Giles’s house?” “No, Iwon’t. I won't say another word to you. You might as well shut up an’ git.” ‘* All right,” said the detective, “Tl go. But I may come back to see you again, and then, perhaps, you'll feel more like talking.” From that cell Detective Sharp was conducted to the one occupied by “Soft Patter.” He, too, was well peraa ied with him, “Hallo! Soft Patter, what are you_here for?’’ he jocularly asked, as he entered the cell. ‘*Soft Patter’ was in a very despondent frame of mind, and answered doggedly: **T’'m here all along of that fool of a Levi Mcses,or Sheeny th’ Turk, as he’s called.” * Ah!” the detective th ught, ‘I may gain some- thing here. Patter blames the Turk for his arrest, and won’t hesitate to tell all he knows.’”’ Out aloud he said: “So. it was the Turk who got you into trouble, eh? Well, I thought so, I didn’t believe you would go and tackie a Fifth avenue crib, with the family all at home. By the way, who was it that opened the door to let the Turk in?” “*T don’t know who it was. He wouldn’t tell me, It was some friend of his, though, I’m sure,” *Didn’t you see him when you went in?” ‘*No; there was no one in th’ hall when we went in. Th’ door was all unlocked an’ ready fer us though.” ‘ ‘That was strange. Do you think it was one of the servants?” ‘*Iit must ’a’ been, Idon’t see how else it could be. Sheeny must know some one of ’em, I guess.” “If that is the case, Patter, it is strange tbat he took you into the job with him; don’t you think so?” My hh. no! he wanted me to open th’ safe, He couldn't open a safe alone to save his life,”’ * That’s it, eh?” o Yes.”’ It was evident that Soft Patter knew but littie concerning the plan of the attempted robbery. He was quite willing to tell all he knew, but that was not much. ‘* What do you know about the boy the Turk kid- napped last night? I mean the one who followed you and Sheeny to Mr. Giles’s house, and gave the alarm. Do you know why he wanted to kill him?” * I’ve been a-thinkin’ about that boy,’’ said ‘Soft Patter,” ‘an’ it’s a mighty curious affair. It seems he wasin one of Sheeny’s rooms, an’ heard us plan to rob Mr. Giles. I asked th’ Turk who was in th’ next room, but he said it was only his boy Ikey. Said he'd been givin’ him a lickin’, an’ had tied him up to punish him." i “ils boy Jkev?” the detective exclaimed. ‘‘ Has the Turk a son?” “ s “ How old is he?” * About fifteen, I should think.” * Do you know where he is?” “No, Isupposed, of course, he was the boy who was in th’ room last night at th’ Turk’s; but when I found it was that other lad, who got us captured, I knowed it wasn’t.” a detective went again to ‘‘Sheeny the Turk’s”’ cell, “Say, Sheeny,”’ he said, “‘where is your boy 9 ‘How did you know I had a boy?” “Oh! no matter about that. I only thought per- haps you'd like to have some one to look atter him a little, that’s all.” ‘* Well, when I want any one to look after him, it won't be you, Mr. Long-nose. Ikey is all right, an’ if you want to know where he is, go an’ find him.” ‘Very well. I shall haye todoso. You knowI’m a pretty good hand at finding a person, Sheeny.”’ ¥rom the Tombs the detective went at once to Baxter street, and to the house where “‘Sheeny the Turk’s’’ rooms were situated. On the ground floor of the house was a clothing- store, kept by one Solomon Kloski, an old Jew, and it was to that store that the detective bent his steps. “Mein Gott in himmel!’’ the old Jew ejaculated, as he recognized his visitor, and his face at once as- sumed 8 tlecidedly troubled expression, ‘‘I peen glad to seen you, Mister Sharps, maybe. How you vas, eb? Coom, und ein glass peer habe mit mich. Nein? Po kein mehr peer trinken any more? Coom, und ein yegar habe.” And catching hold of the de- tective’s sleeve he tried to entice him away from his Bore. eeserine the above Dutch patois with great volubility. ‘Now, don’t get frightened, Solomon, don’t get frightened,” the detective said, at the same time motioning the old man to sit down and keep cool. *T am not here on business this time. I only want to ask vou a few questions.” e Jew felt better at once, * Vat you vants to know ’pout, eh?” he asked. “Well f want to ask you if you know Levi Moses, who has rooms in this house, and used tu live here, Do you?” “Ya ITknows him. Cheeny the Turk, dhey ells him. He vas peen der chug in, about six months, maybe. Datderman? Ya, I knows him.” RS es, that’s the man. Now, can you tell me where his boy Ikey is?’ “Dat leetle iey Moses? No, I don’t know vhere he vas. Vhen his mutter died ein young man cooms und dakes him avay. I don’t know vhere he peen Bo Who know him?” © was the young man? did you know him? “Ne, I don't kno ut he vas ein friend mit det Turk,” 1” us Bame D “ aure fp ies Around bene ainoett ra . seen ory s 6a ’ somedimes, maybe,” Wisier it «ou The Detective’s Apprentice. “Well, good-day, Mr. Kloski. I'll drop in and see ox O’Glory. I hope you are not buying any stolen—” **So help me,”’ and the old man raised his hands on high, as though about. to invokes high heaven to bear witness to his innocence, ‘I never—” But the detective went away, laughing. Entering Mike O’Glory’s place he advanced to the bar, and that worthy individual was scarcely less frightened than the old Jew had been, *“Good-morning!’’ he exclaimed. “I’m glad to see youl”? And in short order a box of cigars was placed at the detective’s disposal, followed by a bot- tle of wine. ‘** Are ye lookin’ for some one?” ‘“‘ No,” said the detective, as he helped himself to a cigar, ‘‘Il merely dropped in fora little informa- tion.” * Phat is it you’d be after knowing?” “Can you tell me where Sheeny the Turk’s boy Ikey is?” “Indade Ican that!’ Mike exclaimed. ‘Do ye know Macy Blanding?” 6 Yes,” “Weil. th’ b’y is livin’ with him; or was, th’ last I knew of him.” The detective went out, and turned his steps to- ward head-quarters, A new idea now filled his mind. Had the “ Turk's"’ boy entered the Giles mansion as a sneak, concealed himself in some convenient place till the house was closed and then opened the front door for his worthy parent? It certainly looked reasonable enough, But, would this theory account forthe missing diamonds? There was yet a mountain of mystery to be removed ere all would be clear, and the detec- tive hardly knew which way to turn. First of all, however, be would go to head-quar- ters and see whether there was any communication from the “Squirrel.” And he hastened on in that direction. And, barely was he out of sight from the house where “Sheeny the Turk” had lived, when Hal Vernet entered it, followed closely by Macy Bland- ing. and he, in turn, followed by the * Squirrel.” If Detective Sharp had seen them, it was certain that he would have turned back; but he did not, and in due time arrived at the central department, where he found tbe * Squirrel’s”” message awaiting im. “Ah!” he thought, as he read it, ‘‘ Macy Blanding isto meet a boy, eh? Can it be the Turk's son? Sanierel you’re a credit to the force, Ill be on and,’ CHAPTER XIV. CLOSING IN, To say that Macy Blanding was surprised when he found himself “‘ covered”’ by the “Squirrel’s” revolver, but ill expresses his consternation. He was, for the caer completely paralyzed, Hal Vernet had sprung to his feet at the “ Squir- rel's”’ first word, and now stood looking on, trem- bling as he realized his narrow escape. *“Come.”’ said the ‘'Squirrel,” “‘let that knife drop to the floor, Blanding, and then, as they say out West, up with your hands. I mean business, and if you make an attempt to escape, or to draw a pistol, I'll bore a hole right through you. Don’t trifle with thi. court.” There was a certain something in the tone and manner of the young detective, which told Blanding more plainly than words that he meant * shoot,” and the knife was instantly dropped. Then the rascal held his hands above bis head, and.the ** Squir- rel” advanced and relieved him of a revolver which he carried in his hip pocket. “Now,” said the ‘* Squirrel,” ‘‘ there’s no danger of your ‘going off.’ Please let me place theso bracelets on reer wrists, and then we'll be all fixed. No need to chin about it, for it must be cid. You've got to go with me to the Contyst. 1 There was really no help for it. so Macy allowed himself to be handcuffed, and then the ‘*Squirrel” put away his weapon. “Well, my lad.” he said, turning to Hal, “ what have you found?” “I've found the diamonds that were stolen from Mr, Giles’s house,” Hal replied. And as he spoke, he picked the jewels up and put them into his pocket, “The deuce you have!” cried the ‘‘Squirrel.” *‘ How did you know they were here?” “IT saw Sheeny the Turk put them here. Of course T didn’t know what was in the package then, but this morning Mr. Sharp told me that some diamonds had been stolen from Mrs. Giles. and when I found that Ikey Moses—Sheeny’s boy—was living in the Giles house, I at once thought I would find them right here; and I did. “Great Scott!’ exclaimed the ‘ Squirrel.”’ ‘* but you're a lucky kid. I'd give almost a year's pay to ave found them.” . “You may say you did, if it will do you any good,” Said Hal, “See here, boy,’ the young detective cried; ‘don’t say that ayain! You don’t know the Squir- rel. When I get my spurs, it will be by my own work, Don’t think I'm mad, for I ain’t; but just re- member that my color is true blue, every day in the week, Come, we must be off to head-quarters.”’ & All right; I’m ready,” said Hal. el aad pen Boog then. ae those s arklers or s 0 what a surprise w give Sharp!” 12 atl . ni And taking bis prisoner by the arm, be led bim down the stairs, and the three left the house, On arriving at police head-quarters they found Detective Sherp, and his surprise at seeing Macy Blanding a prisoner, after the telegram he had re- ceived from the * Squirrel,” can be imagined, ‘* What does this mean?” he asked. “It means that this man was about to plunge a knife into your young friend here, when I arrested him. The boy had a narrow escape, I tell you. Show Mr. Sharp what you've got in your pocket,” addressing our bero. Hal drew forth the small package, and opening the paper, disclosed the sparkling ciamonds to the detective’s wondering gaze. “In the name of all that’s wonderful!” cried Sharp, “where did you find those?” Hal explained, 7 a You say Ikey Moses is en inmate of Mr. Giles’s ouse?”’ * Yes, sir. He calls himself Henry Giles, and says he is M ’. Giles’ son,” acy Blanding was now as pale as death itself. “The jig is up,’ he thought, ** and I may as well make a clean breast of the whole matter, Oh! Sheeny the Turk; ten million curses upon your head ict mead He was about tospeak, when Hal Vernet said: ‘*See this piece of chain, Mr. Sharp, I found it with the diamonds, What do you think of it?” Tbe detective took the chain from the boy’s hand, and immediately exclaimed: ‘*Great heavens! boy, do you know what this is?’” ‘Yes, sir; I knew it the moment I sawit. 1t is the lost part of the chain which Aunt Polly gave me be- fore she died,”’ ‘““Ah! Macy Blanding,” the detective cried, as a new light dawned upon the mystery, which he was quick to perceive and understand. ‘*I fancy I can new touch bottom in this case. A little light be- gins to dawn upon us. I can see into your infernal scheme, and now know why you desired to put this boy out of the way. If there is any law to touch your case this time, my fine fellow, you shall feel its full weight.” ‘*Tf you will let me down easy,’ the villain began, ‘*1 willmake a clean breast of it all, and—” “We don’t want anything of the sort,” said . Sharp. ‘* Your confession comes too late in the day. Officer, take him to jail, and commit, him un- der a charge of attempted murder. I will be on hand at his hearing, and I'll have proof enough to send him below, too,”’ Macy remonstrated, but he was not listened to, and a policeman led him away. ‘“Now, Squirrel,’ Detective Sharp then said, *““vyou go and procure a warrant for the arrest of James Seeds, and take himin. Make it a charge of abduction. I want to use him asa witness against Macy Binning and Sheeny the Turk, You'll find him at the address I gave you this morning. Then, when you have done that, go to my house and wait woe: iT come. Do you understand?” ‘ Yes,’ “Well, be off then, and don't forget to go tomy house when you are through with the job.” * Suppose I can’t find the boy, though?” “In that case let me know it by two o'clock, and I'll get some one else for the other work,” “Allright.” And the “Squirrei”’ went out. “Now, my lad,” the detective said, ‘‘ we'll go in and see the Inspector,” and he led the way into that gentleman’s office. The Inspector was at leisure at the moment, and the detective said: ‘* Well, sir, the lost diamonds are found.” “Found? Sharp, you’re a very Prince of Deteo tives. How, when and where did you find them?” “Tt was not I who found them, sir, but this boy.” “The deuce,” “Exactly so, sir. And a wonderful find it was, too; although ‘had it not been for the Squirrel, the boy would have lost his life. As it was, he hada» narrow escape.” ‘Indeed! Give me the facts in the case.” The detective did so. b - Ab! Blanding is caught by the heels at last, is e . “Yes, sir; and I’m going to put it to him strong!” “What about the mystery you hint at, thatis con- nected with your young friend’s life?” ‘*Well, I shall now follow up the clew, and see where it willend, You can see for yourself, sir, the way it seems to point. I think when I see you again I shall have a tale to unfold.” * You must finish the business up to-day, Sharp; . for I want you to take hold of that murder case to- morrow. The boys are ata standstill.” * All right, sir; lll set to work and wind this affair up at once, Come, Hal, let’s get some dinner and then to work.” The detective and bis protege went to a neizhbor- ing restaurant, where each ate a hearty dinner, and then they started up Broadway, Where are you going now?” Hal asked. Well,” said the detective, * we'll take a walk for half an hour, to settle our dinner and to kill time, and then we'll take a cab and go to the Grand Cen- tral Depot.” 4 ‘To see Ikey ?”” hin res; and not only to see him, but to mmo im. ‘I'm sorry for that,” said Hal. ‘*Dut what au Seedy Jim?” : “Well, I think they'll send him to ed again. I should think you would be glad to see him go, too, after the attempts he has made to kill you.” “But I am not, sir. Ud rather see him givena ood place to go to work, where he could become etter, instead of worse, as he surely will if he is - sent back to jail.” ’ “You're a good boy.” the detective remarked, ‘“‘and I wish that there were many more ple with your kindness of heart toward the jail bird.’
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The two walked up Broadway as far as Union Square, where the detective engaged a cab, and | eve there they were driven to the Grand Central epot. hen they arrived there it was one o’clock, and a few minutes later Hal touched the detective’s arm, and said: ‘“There he comes!” “Ts that the boy?” ‘Ves .?? The detective opened the cab door as the boy drew near, and gave a low whistle to attract his at- | tention, J ie boy looked around at once, and the detective asked: ‘Is your name Henry Giles?” “Yes, sir.”’ “Then you're the boy I was sent for. Mr. Macy | Blanding was to have met you here at one o’clock, but he couldn’t come, so he sent a cab for you to come to him.” “ Where is he?” “Tam to take Ps to a house on West — street.” “ Ail right.”” And the boy sprung into the cab at once. But the instant he saw Hal Vernet his face rew white, and he attempted to get out again. But t was too late. The detective forced him back into his seat, and said: f “Not so fast, Ikey; you can’t get out.” | ‘Who are you?” the frightened boy asked. “Tam a police detective. You are arrested for stealing Mrs. Giles’s diamonds.” The lad was now greatly alarmed, and began to cry. hy wouldn’t ’a’ done it,” he said, ‘only my dad made me do it.” i ‘ ‘‘Iam really sorry for you.” the detective said, * but I am afraid you will have to go to jail. There is only one way I can he p you.” ‘* How is that?” the boy quickly asked. “Well, if you will tell me everything you know about Macy Blanding, and how he caine to get you be Mr. Giles’s house, I'll try and keep you out of i ’ “Oh! I'll tell you everything!” the boy quickly declared. “Well, wait till we reach our destination then, and I’ll listen to you.” In a short time the cab arrived at Detective Sharp’s house, and bidding the driver wait for him he got out, with the two boys, and entered. — The ‘Squirrel’? was there awaiting further cr | ders, having arrested ‘Seedy Jim ”’ aud put him into | vil. Detective Sharp led Ikey Moses into a private | room, where the boy confessed everything. And | when he came out again the detective said: ‘** Now, Squirrel, I want you and Hal to stay here till I return. I may be gone all the afternoon, so make yourselves right at home. And, Squirrel, do not let [key Moses leave your sight.” * All right, sir.” Detective Sharp then left the house and enterod the cab, and was driven down-town. He went straight to the Tombs, and to “Sheeny the Turk’s ”’ cell. ‘* Well, Sheeny,”’ he said, ‘* your boy is found.” ‘*T don’t believe it,” was the surly response, *T can prove it to you, Sheeny. We found him in Mr. Giles’s house, on Fifth avenue. He it was who opened the door for you last night.” The * Turk ’’ was surprised. * Nor is that all’ the detective continued, ‘ We have found the diamonds your boy stole from Mrs, Giles, and gave to you. e found them under the bricks of the hearth, in your rooms. You see, Sheeny, we have a way of prying into secrets.”” The “Turk” had not a word to say. He could only sit and stare at the detective, with eyes and mouth open wide. “As Thad business down this way, I thought I’d drop in and let you know how we are progressing. So-long, old man! I’llsee you later!’? And the de- tective went away. Going thence into the police court, he obtained a ' search-warrant to search Macy Blanding’s rooms at | his boarding-house, and set out at once to execute | the business. } CHAPTER XV. COLLECTING EVIDENTE. Wuen Detective Sharp arrived at the boarding- house kept by Mrs. Seeds, the mother of ‘‘Seedy Jim.”’ he read aloud the search-warrant to that lady and was invited at once into the house and conduct- ed up-stairs to Macy Blanding’s room. The door was found locked, but the detective soon overcame that trifling obstacle. Taking a curious- looking little instrument from his pocket, he adjust- ed it, and then on inserting it into the keyhole, the door was opened instantly. “There we are,” he said, “‘and no trouble at all. I | will be through here in a very short time, Mrs. | Seeds.” And he entered the room alone, closing the door after him, thus balking Mrs. Seeds in her fever- ish desire to learn what he was after. Then he be- gan his search, In one corner stood a trunk. It was locked, but the curious-looking little instrument that had open- ed the door so readily, fitted this smaller lock equal- ly well, and the contents of the trunk were soon ex- posed to view. See These the detective examined, handling each ar- ticle with as much care as though the property were his own. He discovered nothing, however, to throw any additional hght upon the case in hand, eplacing the things as he had found them, he closed and locked the trunk, and then turned his attention to a bureau which stood in the front part of the room between two windows, a "PS eh The Detective’s Apprentice. This article of furniture contained several drawers, all of which were locked, and again the curious- looking little instrument was brought into use. The first drawer that was opened was a small one, and was found to contain letters and papers of va- rious sorts, to which the detective gave careful at- tention, One by one he examined them, and pre- pes gl his eye falling upon a certain letter, he ut- tered a low ejaculation of surprise. That letter was contained in a large, yellow envel- ope, which had the appearance of having been wet, and on which the superscription was this: “MRS. LANGDON GILES, s - “No. — Fifth avenue, N. Y.” ** Personal.’ The letter was dated ‘‘Chambers street Hospital, Jannary 12, 18—,’”’ and to the detective it revealed everything in connection with the mystery of young Hal Vernet’s life. It was far more than he had hoped to find. Nothing further was needed to guide him to the proof of the boy’s identity—that proof, in fact, was in his hands now; but, detective-like, he must prove the validity of it. “Ah! the hand of the Deity is in this'” he ex- claimed, half-aloud, when he had perused the letter carefully to the end, ‘‘and I am the agent, or one of them, to whom He has trusted the work of restoring young Vernet to his parents and his rights, and of ringing to account the villain who has kept bim from them.” _Finding nothing more that he wanted, the detec- tive closed and locked that drawer, and then ex- plored the others. But he found nothing of impor- tance, and turned to go, On opening the door, which he did rather sudden- ly, with an object, perhaps, in so doing, Mrs. Seeds came sprawling in upon the floor. “T beg your pardon, madam,” he made haste to say. “Had I known that you had your eye glued to the keyhole, I would have opened the door more yee ee Mrs. Seeds was very much confused. “I-I was just stooping to pick up something I dropped,” she explained, ‘Allow me to pick it up for you,” said the detec- tive, gallantly, and he assisted the blushing landlady to her feet. Mrs. Seeds knew the ne ae Cake sight, at least, having seen him at the Tombs police court on the oceasion of her son’s trial some months before, and she now implored him to use his influence to save her *‘ darling Jimmie” from prison. The detective informed her, however, that he could do uothing. The woman’s manner changed instantly. She bad been all smiles before, but now burst forth into a tirade of vituperation and abusiveness, from which the detective escaped by departing in haste. From there he went to the home of the Mrs. O’Brien who made her debut in a previous chapter, and found the lady at home, “ Phat do yez be wantin’?”’ she asked, recognizing him instantly. “When Mrs. Barker died, some months ago,” said the detective, ‘‘ you took her household things to keep them until called for, When they were called for, however, you failed to give up all cf them, ‘“*Ye’re a liar!’ screamed the woman. And for about two minutes her tongue ran at lightning speed, and stopped only whenshe was out of breath, Then the detective resumed, as though he had not been interrupted at all: : —‘* And I have called for tre rest. I want every- thing that wasin Mrs. Barker’s trunk, and especi- ally a letter which was addressed to her boy, Harold Vernet.” “TI tell yez I have nothin’!”” the woman cried. * An’ evenif I jad anything, bedad! I wouldn’t give it up to the loikes av wou /” * Very well, Mrs, O’Brien; I have here a search- warrant,’’ and the detective took from bis pocket the one he had obtained tosearch Macy Blanding’s poets “‘and I willhave to look for the things my- self, The Irishwoman grew suddenly pale. She saw that the detective meant business, and it was evident that she did not sire to have him explore her rcoms. The detective thought so, at all events, and instantly played a trump. “And, Mrs. O’Brien, if you force me to do that, I er discover more than you would care to have the police know,” he said. ‘*No fear av that!” she exclaimed. ‘‘ But, as ye have a warrint wid ye, av coorse I'll have to own up an’ surrender th’ things. I’ve no wish to offend th’ erlice. Stepinan’ wait jest a moment, sor, an’ Il] ring thim to ye, every bit.”’ “hat is your safest course,’ the detective said, as he entered the room and sat down. : The woman cisappeared into an adjoining room, but soon returned with a letter in one hand and a small bundle in the other, ; The detective took the letter, examined it, thrust itinto his pocket, and then asked: ‘* What is in the bundle?” “Only some av Mrs. Barker’s old clothes, sor; not av much account at best.” * Open it.” The woman obeyed, and it was as she said. * Are you sure the:e are all?” Wiss gor * ‘* Well, keep them. The letter was what I want- ed. In future, however, be careful not to take what does not belong to you.”” And the detective went away, Mrs. O'Brien shaking her fist after him the moment he closed the door. Thence he proceeded to the Chambers street Hos- ee ais: | a es where he made inquiries concerning one Hel ~ en Varrick. The record was examined, and the name found. ‘Hellen Varrick, age forty-one, admitted January 2,18—. Died January 12, of the same year. Cause of death—consumption.” “Can you give me the name of the nurse under whose care she was placed?” the detective asked. The nurse was soon ascertained to have been a Miss Scottley, but it was found that she was no lon: ger connected with the hospital. “Til tell you what i’m after,” the detective said. 7 want to find whether Hellen Varrick wrote a let: ter just before she died, and if so, what became of it. “ Well,’ said the hospital offleial, ‘‘the person most likely to know akout that, is the nurse. I will make inquiries. and perbaps I can learn where she is.” And tapping a bell as he spoke he summoned an assistant, whom he sent to bring one of the lady nurses, whom he named. i “She used to be quite intimate with Miss Scot- tley,” he explained, ‘‘and perhaps knows where she‘ is living now.” The nurse soon appeared, and in answer to the- question, said: ‘Miss Scottley is now Mrs. Bell, sir, and lives at No. — Sixth avenue.” Thitber the detective went. He found Mrs. Bell to be a neat-looking little wo- man, with a very pleasant face. Introducing himself, he stated his business, and the lady said: *‘T remember Hellen Varrick, sir, and she dia write a letter, which I promised to deliver when she died. AndIdidso. I took it to an American Dis- trict Telegraph office, and sent it to its destination by a messenger boy. I remember it well. It was an awful night.” ‘*TIs this the letter?’ the detective asked, showing her the one he had found in Macy Blanding’s room. “Yer, sir; itis the same. I recognize it by the envelope, which I directed for the woman at her re quest. But, there was more than this letter in the envelope then, sir,” ‘““ What else was in it?” “There was a piece of a child’s neck-chain, and also something which I thought to be part of a child’s little dress.” *Can you direct me to the office where you left the letter for delivery?” Tbe woman gave him the address, and thanking her, he started for down-town again. Arriving at the telegraph office, which was the one where our hero was employed, he found a new manager in charge, He made known his business, and the books were examined. Turning to the entries of January 12, the following memorandum was found: “ Article; aletter. Value: unstated. Time; 7:50 Pp. M. Address; Mrs. Landon Giles, No. — Fifth avenue. Sender; Miss Scottley, Chamber-street Hospital. Messenger: H. Vernet.” And in another column was the remark: “This letter was lost, owing to the messengery being assaulted en route.” In that direction the detective’s task was done The remainder of the afternoon he spent at head- quarters, and at his home, Mrs, Smith, Harry, and Joe, were about sitting down to their evening meal, in their humble home, when Dick burst into the room, exclaiming: “Tf it ain’t an outrage, then nothin’ ever was! Hal Vernet is discharged!’ ‘** Discharged!” exclaimed the widow, and Harry at once. ‘*What for?” ‘“Why, for not delivering that parcel last night! There isa new manager at the station to-day, and he reported the case at once to the superintendent, who ordered Hal to be dismissed. You knowhe lost a letter last winter, too; and they say there was a man at the office this afternoon making inquiries about it.’’ ‘Oh! that is really too bad!” said Mrs. Smith. eee I suppose he will be able to find something to ‘ rs) ’ “Of course he will,’ said Harry. “ But it is too bad to have him lose so good a place.” “Well, we will see now what Detective Sharp will do for him, anyhow,” said the widow, **Oh!” cried Dick, “‘I never once thought of him, Hell get Hal a place, you bet!” At that moment there came a knock at the door. *Come in,” cried the widow, and a young mag entered the room. It was the Squirrel.” “Are you Mrs Smith?” he asked. ‘Yeu, iri. ; ‘Then you are the lady I was sent tofind. Detee tive Sharp desires you and your boys, Harry, Dick and Joe, to be at his house, No. — West —— stree at eight o’clock this evening, You must not fail to ? be there. He desires also to have you bring the things that belong to Harold Vernet—the baby- dress, chain, and so forth. He says he has a sur- prise in store for you. Will you he there?” ‘*Of course we will!” shouted the boys. ‘Tell him s0, mother!” ‘ “Yes,” said Mrs. Smith, ‘‘ we will be there at that ime,’ “All right,” assented the “Squirrel,” and he went out. ‘ Then youmay believe that everything was excite- ment in the Smith family. About the same time that the ‘Squirrel * called at Mrs. Smith’s, the following note was delivered to Mr. Giles, at his Fifth avenue mansion: i. a - r ~ : a toes ake ‘ : _ ae on aS ae ‘ \ ' REET OH x. ‘eae - mE ae “ae ¢ t er An vy by ‘ i > , fw a Sa ae Nfebae / we Li 4 4 pel oe Stare a ‘ ’ + + ue . ~ . * 4 ae P xt ’ 3 \ Rrxsee . ey apa io : ” = hee, , uy * eat ; Ao Pons oF me ms “a _ 77 i! oy ; Oe « . Chae ne i fe siniss, a _ SS ee : ? + re ial Re {ini Wie ewig ——— ten ee ex ie : — . <r r- me. Sato nd in ec w eS ees: Ee fee etn eg TT ee a" — ne a EY ee a ee ———
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| | ane }: ie Fe er 2 The “Mr. Giuss:—Do not be alarmed about your boy. He is with me. If you and Mrs. Giles will come to my house at eight o’cloeck this evening, you will find him there. Do not fail to come,as I have an important secret to disclose. Your diamonds are safe. Respectfully yours, “STEVEN SHARP. ““No — West —— street.” CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION. Anovur eight o'clock that evening, several persons were seated in a comfortably-furnished parlor in Detective Sharp’s house, They were Mr. and Mrs, Giles; Mrs. Smith and her three sons, Harry, Dick, and little Joe; and Mrs. Sharp, the detective’s wife, who was entertaining the company awaiting the appearance of her husband. A clock on the mantle had barely ceased striking the hour, when the detective entered the room, and introducing his guests to his wife, and to one an- other, he then said: “You no doubt think it strange that I have re- quested you to come here this evening, sir and madam,” addressing Mr, and Mrs, Giles, ‘but I have a great disclosure to make to you. The boy whom you believe to be yours, and who stole the diamonds from Mrs. Giles’s jewel-box, is not your son. Both Mr. and Mrs. Giles were as pale as death, “*How do you know this?’’ Mr. Giles demanded. “Tf you will favor me with your attention for a few minutes,’”’ the detective answered, ‘I will ex- plain all “About fourteen years ago you had in your ser- vice a woman named Hellen Varrick. She suddenly disappeared, and with her your only child, a year- old Toy. You informed the police, and employed private detectives; but not the slightest trace of either the woman or the child was ever discovered, “What became of them, I will tell you. ‘“*On January 12, of this year, the woman died in the Chambers street Hospital; and just before her death she wrote this letter, which, madam, is ad- dressed to you: “CHAMBERS StREET HospIrTat, } “*New York, January 12, 18—. { “* Mrs. Gries:—I am dying. My hours on earth are few. WhatI have to say to you I must make haste to write, ere it is forever too late. When I stole your baby, fourteen years ago, I must have been demented. I now repent for the act, and, if I could, would gladly restore him to you; but I know not where he is, I kept half of his little dress and half of his neck-chain, which I send to you with this letter. Perhaps by these you may even now be able to find him, TI gave him to an honest-looking wo- man whom I met on the street. 1 did not know her, but trusted her face, In my heart I did not wish harm to come tothe child. I asked the woman to hold him for me a moment, and when she took him from my armsI ran away. Poor boy! if he is still living he is now fifteen ype old! May God forgive me! Your forgiveness | dare not ask. ‘* “Now to confess why I took the child, and oh! the shame | feel when I think of it! I loved your hus- band. I loved him sincerely—nay, madly; but he— he thought no more of me than of the earth under his feet. While you— Oh! howI hated you! you were the very light of his life. How it maddened me! I tried every means to make him notice me, but in vain. I was merely a servant, nothing more. Then I thought to have revenge by stealing your child and thus breaking your heart. “*My strength is failing. Imust stop. I address this to you. Do not let your husband see it. My earnest prayer is that God may guide your boy Henry to you. ELLEN VARRICK.’ “That woman's ws er was heard,” the detective said, as he folded the letter, ‘‘ and from the moment when this missive left, her hands, its course was di- rected by the hand of Providence. ; “The letter was taken to an American District Telegraph station, and left to be. forwarded to you; but before it reached its destination it was lost, “It was found by one Macy Blanding, a thief and villain, who opened it and made himself acquainted with its contents. ce ; ; ‘*Macy Blanding had a boy living with him at the time, named Ikey Moses—a son of Levi Moses, alias Sheeny the Turk.” “One of the men who entered my house last night!” Mr. Giles exclaimed. ** Yes, sir. Well, Blanding put the boy under se- vere training for several months, and at last brought him to you and presented him as your lost ‘*Oh! the villain!’ cried Mrs. Giles, who was now weeping. “ 8 Fepresented himself as Hellen Varrick’s bro- ther,” the detective continued, “and said he had _al- ways believed the boy to be his sister's child. But, she having confessed the truth at her death, he lost no time in restoring the boy to you, glad to know that he was not a child of his sister’s shame, The boy had his lessons perfectly learned, and you be- lieved thestory. While for ane epiagton gave you the parts of the dre’s and chain which he had stolen ay nee eee : ‘Am [ right?’ ’ ‘a You are” admitted Mr. Giles. ‘‘We had to be- lieve him. ‘His story, backed by the proof he brought us, was not to be doubted. If we had a doubt, we were obliged to crush it and take the boy to our hearts,” “The woman with whom your child was left,” the ae a resumed, “was a ha rd working Christian, whose name was Aunt Polly Barker.” “Good heavens!” exclaimed Mrs. Smith, as the ective’s Apprentice. am ee ve Sa se se oe. ts ar acai truth which she had more than half-suspected burst suddenly upon her; ‘it was Hal!” ‘**So it was!” cried Dick. “Yes,” confessed the detective, ‘‘ Halit was. But be patient and hear me out.” And, turning again to Mr. and Mrs. Giles, he went on: ‘Mrs, Barker took the baby boy home with her, and, having then no children of her own, kept him. When he was old enough to go to school he was sent, and received quite a good English education. ‘“\When he was about ten years of age, however, Mrs. Barker’s husband died, and then Mrs. Barker had to take him from school and put him at work, At first he tried blacking boots, tuen selling papers, and at last became a messenger boy in the Ameri- can District Telegraph. And he it was who set out to carry Hellen Varrick’s letter to you, but lost it, How it was lost, I wil! explain presently. * Last winter Mrs. Barker died, and then the boy was thrown upon the world alone; but he soon found friends. Mrs. Smith and her boys took him into their home, and they love him as a son and brother.”’ ‘“My God!” Mr. Giles suddenly cried; “‘ was he the boy who gave the alarm at my house last night?’ ‘Yes, sir. How did you guess it?” “Why, I asked him to stay in my house all night, but he refused, saying Mrs. Smith would be anxious about him. I just thought of it when you mention- ed her name.” — ‘* Well, then, inasmuch as you have already seen the boy,’’ said the detective, “I will now present him to you. I was holding him back to give you a grand surprise.” And he rose and left the room, soon returning with Hal Vernet and [key Moses. “This lad, sir and madam,” he said, leading Hal forward, ‘‘is your lost son. There is no doubt in the case. I will prove it to you clearly. Were all other proofs wanting, though, his remarkable like- ness to you, madam, would convince any one. noticed something familiar in your face the first time I saw you, madam, and wondered where I had seen the same face before. It was your son’s face I had seen.” Mrs. Giles had caught Hal in her arms and was pressing himto ber. Inher heart she knew the de- tective's story was true. ‘“*Now,”’ said the detective,” for the proof.” And he pees to explain, in his clear, straightfor- vay manner, the facts which are known tothe reader. He read the letter which was written by Aunt Polly Barker and addressed to Hal Vernet, and which Mrs, O’Brien had found in the old trunk; he produced the boy’s baby-clothes, which were at once recognized by Mrs. Giles; he took the note signed H. V.from the fining of the little cloak and com- pared the writing with Hellen Varrick’s letter proving it to be hers. It was, altogether. proof enough to have satisfied any tribunal in the world. _ Yhen he handed Mrs, Giles ber diamonds, explain- ing how they had been stolen and recovered. He told how “Sheeny the Turk” had followed Macy Blanding, and thus discovered where his boy was; how he had met the boy on the street, and commanded him to steal; and how the boy had - the diamonds and delivered them to his ather. He explained how Hal had lost Hellen Varrick’s letter; how Macy Blanding had discovered who he was; how Blanding, the “ Turk,” and “Seedy Jim” had planned to kill him. and how Hal had seen the “Turk” conceal something under the hearth, and a him and ‘‘ Soft Patter’ plan to rob Mr, Giles’s ouse. Then he explained how Ikey had opened the door for his father after the house was closed for the night; how Hal had escaped and given the alarm; how the diamonds were found by him—in short, the whole pen al “Of real detective work in_ this case,” he said there has been but little. Kind Providence has guided your son to you, and the boy has been in the main his own detective ” It was an affecting scene. Mrs. Giles, Mrs. Smith, Bal, Dick, and little Joe all were crying. Why they cried they could not tell, but they cried neverthe- less. Mr. Giles grasped the detective’s hand and shook it heartily. proclaiming him to be a wonderful man, and swearing eternal friendship to him, As for Hal, he was overjoyed to find his parents, i quite reluctant to part with Mrs. Smith and the oys. Ikey Moses, poor, homeless boy that he was! rs ota apart from the others, his eyes glistening with ears. ; What is to be done with this lad?’ the detective asked, “He deserves to be turned out into the sireet,” decided Mr. Giles, indignant at the thought of the part the boy had played. “Would you turn him out to become a thief like his father?” Hal asked. . “Nol no!” pled Mrs. Giles, “we must not do lat,”’ “The right thing to do,’ declared Hal, “‘is to take care of him, find him a place to work, and let him ave a chance to grow up to be honest. What our son says, J declared Mr. Giles. ¥ is clearly our duty. The boy shall go home with us, and I will take care of his future. The kind Father who has restored our son to us, now demands of us that we care for this poor lad in return.” The story is told. : The detective's apprentice accepted his true name, Henry Giles, though he is still called ‘‘ Hal,” as of Sn old. He, Dick Smith, and Ikey Moses are at school, reparing for college. May they grow up to be use- ul and honored men! Harry Smith has established a printirg-office of his own, and is doing well. He, Mrs, Smith, and little Joe live in a neat cottage in a pleasant New Jersey town—said cottage being a present from Mr. Giles. Dan Emmery, Hal’s friend, is now a clerk in & down-town wholesale store. His prospects are good. James Seeds, **Seedy Jim,” was sentenced to zg month on the Island. When he came out, Mr. Giles, at Hal’s request, secured him a home with a farmer out West, where he has every chance to reform, “Sheeny the Turk,” “Soft Patter,’ and Macy Blanding are serving out sentences in prison. Detective Sharp is still on the force, and his ad- ventures are numerous. The case he most frequent- ly speaks of, however, is the one in which he tells his friends about Harold Vernet, the detective’s ap- prentice, THE END, ~ Beadle’s Half-Dime Library BY J, ©. COWDRICK, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, tne Gold king}; or, For Seven Years Dead, : 420 The Delective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a ame, 424 Cibuta Johny; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar. 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude 490 Broudway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 606 Redlight tales the Prince of the Road, 514 Broadway Billy’« Boodle. 524 The Engineer Detective 586 Broadway Billy’s ‘ Difikilty.” 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 5657 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. BY MAJOR E. L. ST. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit. 801 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Viyilante Prince. 888 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 852 ‘Tombatone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “ Sand.” > B59 Durawee brave, the Young ‘nn on \ restler, 871 Kingbolt Chris, the Young Hard-Shell Detective. 880 Avulanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountiin Mail-Line, BY EDWARD WILLETT. 167 Asa Scott, the Steamboat Boy. 199 Veatherweight the Boy Champion of the Muskingum, 22S Ozark Alf’; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws, 2S2 The Typo Detective; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp. 295 Fearless Phil; or, The King of Quartzville. 811 The Roving Sporty; or, The Pride of Chuckaluck Camp, 822 Nemo, the Detective; or, Kit ponnons Vendetta. 840 Clip, the Contortionist: or, The Montana Vigilantes, BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER, j 15 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Page 4 of The Doge’s Daughter, ty 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. : 150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of the Chaco, st 154 The Sword Hunters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders, 159 The mane Captain; or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cruise to the Open Polar Sea. 200 The Boy Bedouina; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance, 214 W oltang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Romer, the Animal King; or, The Round the World ; Wanderer. ‘ 265 The Tiger Tamer; or, The League of the Jungle, i 881 Black Nick, the Demon Rider. 895 California Joe's War Trall. BY CAPT. J. F. ©, ADAMS. 84 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whiffles’s Boy Spy. 46 Glass-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. 54 Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. 56 Nick Whitiles’s Pet; _ In The Valley of Death. 60 The White Indian; or, The Scovt of the Yellowstona, 70 Old Zip’s Cabing or, The Greenhorn in the Woods, s1 Lightubner Jo, the Toreop of ve pyaltie. ri 5 Buck Ruckramy or, Beas, the Female Trapper, A 247 Old Grizzly and Mia Pets; or. The Wild Huntress, 261 Light-house Liges or, Oaceola, the Firebrand. 257 The Lost Hunteras or, The Underground Camp, R88 The Scalp King; or, The Human Thunderbolt, RY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE, 86 Dandy Roek the Man from Texas. 90 The Dread Rider; or, ThetTesna Duelist. ¥ 99 The Tiger of Taos; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel. Fan, 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom, : F 181 The Golden Hand; or, Dandy Rock to the Rescue, 164 Dandy Reck’s Pledge ; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The Haunted Maid of Taos, va ose BY JO PIERCE. 897 Rob o’ the Bowery 3 or, The Prince of Mulberry Street, 415 The Vagabond Detective; or, Bowery Bob's Boom, 452 Hots«pur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective, 460 The Lawyer's Shadow}; or, Luke’s Legacy. 472 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective. 5604 Five Pointa Phil. 509 Jack Jaggers, the Butcher Boy Detective. Pa eg ee ee TE 516 Tartar Tim; or, Five Points Phil's Menagerie, y 526 North River Nat, the Pier Detective. B88 Wrestling Rex, the Pride of the Sixth Ward, 5. BAL Jeff Flicker. the Stable Boy Detective, ‘ 551 Nick Nettle, the Boy Shadow 4 > . wk, the Office Boy Detective. Bop Be tyn Hen, the On-His-Own-Hook Detective, = a A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half- Dime Library is for sale by all newadoalers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York
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— eS yan - +. ie ae ~ aoe RE OT me - 7 r bi "> - ee EE BEADLE’S+}]ALF-DIME*LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers, Lat: So . “7 oe a eee ‘ on ao a — 4 A ge BY EDWARD L, WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance, 28 Buffalo Ben; or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise, 85 Wilda Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. 42 Phantom Miner}; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 49 Omaha OIL; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. 57 Deadwood Dick's Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 28 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine, 7? Corduroy Charlie; or, Deadwood Dick’s Last Act, 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 ye oe tne Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s Juleh, 188 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. 149 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike. 1656 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood}; or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dreamy; or, The Rivals of the Road. 201 The Black Hilla Jezebel; or, Deadwood Dick’s Ward. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Ad- venture. 217 Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. 221 Sugar-Coated Samy; or, The Black Gown. 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughe, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. B09 Boadweod Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick of regon. 821 Dendwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- ginys. 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta. B62 peatwere Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro Y late. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City, 410 peseweed Dick's Diamonds; or, The Mystery of Joan orter, 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “ Cute Care.” 480 Deadwood Dick’« Dust; or, The Chained Hand, 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr. 448 Nickel-Plate Ned; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance, 458 Sunflower Sam, o! Shasta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Full Hand, 459 Flush Fan, the Verret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Ronnd- Up. 465 Phitto Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at Claim 10. 471 Bozeman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Corral. 476 Mumboldt Marry, the Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Dog Detective. 481 Moll Myatery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood, 491 Prince Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Compact. 296 pense Cristo, Co a Tatras Mo a ag endwoo ¢k’« Diggiuges 3; or, Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop. 508 Deadwood Dick's Deliverance. ‘i a 5615 Deadwood Dick’s Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick’s Three. 529 Dendwood Dick’s Danger Ducks, 544 Deadwood Dick’s« Death Hunt, 589 Deadwood Dick Jr., in Texas. 544 Deadwood Dick, dr., the Wild West Vidoeq. 549 Deadwood Dick on Mis Mettle. 554 Dendwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick in Boston, 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadeiphia. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon, 82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Lite in New York, 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix, 61 Buckhorn BILl}; or, The Red Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective, 80 Took tho Tob or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner}; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappenrance, 92 Canada Chet 3 or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 96 Watch-Eye3 or, Arabs and Angels of a Great City, 118 Jack Moyle _ the Young Speculator, 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport, 125 Bonanza BIL Miuer. 188 Bows ob ‘the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Rond-Agent. 145 Papeatn erret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s 088 JU. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada or, The Sierras Scamps, 181 Wild ¥rank, the Buckskin Bravo, 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective, 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 226 Snoozer, the Buy Sharp; or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator, 244 Sierra Sam, tho Frontier Ferret, 248 Sierra Sam’« Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 253 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Ange! o! Big Vista. 258 Sierra Sam's Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll's Victory. 255 Denver Doll's Decoy 3 or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’ Dray or, The Road Queen. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, the Sir! Miner; or, the lron-Nerved Sport. B25 Kelley, Hickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphin, B80 Little Qui ck-Shot3 or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miuer, 889 Kangaroo Kit’« Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, tle Bowery Blood. BBS Fivat-Class Fred, the Gent trom Gopher, 868 Fees Jim, the Gold-Gutherer 3 or, The Lottery of eo 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. B78 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. BR2 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengennce, 885 Yreka Jim's Joker}; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, 889 Bicycle Beng; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam, 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Hat Marry, the Base Ball Detective. 6 Sam Slabsides, the Beggar-Boy Detective. 4 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. #3 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 6 Seulskin Sam, the Sparkler. BY BUFFALO BILL (ion. Wm. F. Cody). 8 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie, BS Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Sccut. 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado ; or, The Trapper’s Trust, BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 WII Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred, 152 Black Bess, Will Wildfire’s Racer. 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy, 2 WILL Wildfire in the Woods. 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy, 170 A Trump Card 3 or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses, 174 Bob Rockett ; or, Mysteries of New York, 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden itandy or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed 3 or, Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life. 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. 220 Tom Tanner} or, The Black Sheep of the Flock. 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 2435 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy, 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway ; or, A Dakota Boy. in Chicago. 262 The Young Sharps; or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. B05 Pashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker City. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective ; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, 867 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. B79 Larry. the Levelery; or, The Bloods of the Boulevard. 403 Firelly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 428 The Lost Winger 3 or, The Entrapped Cashier, 428 red Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Lo “an, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick; the Jolly Vagabond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. ATY Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman} or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, 566 The Secret service Boy Detective. BY OLL COOMES. 5 Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Kuilfe, the Prince of the Prairies, 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 6S The Border King}; or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Wawk-eye Marry the Young Trapper Ranger. 88 Kollo, the Boy. Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman, 148 Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter. 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger, 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain, 202 Prospect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters, 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps. 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Wildtire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson De teetive; or, The Little Ranger. 248 ‘The Dinguised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger. 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 272 Minkakin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxiire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon ; or, Ruinbolt, the Ranger. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero, 409 Hercules; or, Dick, the Boy Ranger, 417 Webtoot Mone, the Tramp Detective. Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, 444 Little Buckskin, tne Young Prairie Centaur. 457 Wingedfoot Fred; or, Old Polar Saul. 468 Tamarac ‘Tom, the Big Tespree Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. BY T. C. HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, Th Boy Spy of '76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl Hunter. 47 Nightingale Wats or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dandy Suck; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trali. 82 Kit Harefovt the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack; or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Klown Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr.: or, The Boy Vivilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Sprit or, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red Core. 188 Ned Temple, tle Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw ; or. The Que n ot Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; er, Little Topknot’s Crusade, 281 Plueky Phils or. Rosa, the Re! Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravo; or, The Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apoli , me King-Pin of Bowle. 267 The Buckskin Detective. 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes. 294 Dynamite Dan; or, The Bowie Blade of Cochetopa. B02 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Buily. 816 Old Eeltpse, Trump Cord of Arizona, 826 The Ten Pards; or, The Terror o! Take-Notice. 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the La-so, 845 Pitiless Matt; o”, Red Thunderbol'’s Secret. B50 Cool sam and Par’; o The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. BX6 Captain Cutlass 3 or, ‘he B ceuneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or. The | win Champions of Blue Blazes. All The Silken Lasso: or, The Rose of Rauch Robin. A418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flakh, the New York Fox. 445 Vhe City Vamplres; or, Red Rolfe’s Pigeon. A6t One Against Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar, 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. A77 The Excelsior Sport: or, The Washington Spotter, 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Nicht Ferret. 512 Dodeer Diek, the Whurf-Spy Detective, 521 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. 528 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows, 588 YPodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double: or, The Riva) Boy Detectives. 558 Dodger Wick’s Desperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidoeq. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAMAM., 7 The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast, 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccancer; or. The Fugitive Yacht. 24 Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 62 The Shadow Ships or, The Rival Lieutenants, 25 The Boy Dnelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, 102 Dick Dead- Eye, the Boy Sinugyier. 111 The Sea-Devil 3 or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 116 The Hussar Captain; or, ‘lhe Hermit of Hell Gate, 197 Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter, 204 Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport, 216 Bison BIL, the Prince of the Reins, 222 Grit, the bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 229 Crimson Kate 3 or, The Cowboy's Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Ceptnin. 245 Merle, the Middly ¢; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer 3 or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, 264 ze Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure sland. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, The Chuse of “The Gold Ship. 280 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pearl, the Pirate’s Bride, 284 The Sea Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. $04 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito. the Buy Bugler. 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. $14 ae Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long rail. 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover}; or, The Flagless Schooner, 888 The Indian Pilots; or, The Search for Pirate Island, 887 Warpath WILI, the Boy Phantom, B98 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Isvdor, the Young Conspirator ; or, The Fatul League. 407 The aa Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Yachtaman; or, The War-Oloua’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy's Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The Sea Raider, 441 The Ocean Firefly; or, A Middy’s Vergeance. 446 Haphazard Harry; or, The Scapegrace of the Sea. 450 Wizard Will: or, The Boy Ferre of New York. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts, 462 The Born Guide ; or, The Suilur Boy Wanderer. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Conster. 474 Fiora; or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will's Last Case, AST Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. 495 Arizona Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack, 497 Buck Taylor, King of they Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat. 507 The Hunted Midshipman, 5611 The Outlawed Middy. 620 Buckskin BILL, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers in Buckskin. 5380 The Buckski» Bowers. 585 The Bue skin Rovers, 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder ot the Rio, ' 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’a Legacy: or. The Avenging Son, 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower, 565 Keut Kingdon, the Card King. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR, 2 Yellowatone Jack}; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Qutlaw’s Retreat. 65 Murricane Till; or, Mustang Sain and His Pard. 119 Muatang Sam 3 or, The King of the Plains, 186 Night-lhiawk Kit; or, The Daugliter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Glant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire, 184 The Boy Trailers $ or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path, 208 The Boy Parda; or. Dainty Lance Unmaskes, 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City, 810 The BRarranca Wolf or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League, 885 Old Double Pur or, The Strange Guide. 855 The King of the Woods: or Daniel Boone’s Last Trail. 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. By Col. Prentirs Ingrabam. 571 Alr-Line Luke, the Young Engineer. By J. C. Cowdrick, 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. By E. L. Wheeler. B78 The Two Shadows. By T. C. Harbaugh, B74 Old Weansel-top, the Man with the Dogs. By P. 8S. Warne. 5675 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. &%6 The Silver Sport. By Lieut. A. K. Sims, Bt? Pavement Pete, the Secret Sifter, By Jo Pierce. BTR Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. By Edward L. Wheeler, 579 The meamney Spys or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party. Rv J. C. Cowdric 580 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. . 581 re Dan, tne Pitcher Detective. By George C. enks. 5&2 Dodger Dick’s Drop. By T. ©. Harbaugh. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man Wit! a Shadow. By Lieut. A, K. Sims. ~ BRA Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver, By Ed, L, Wheeler. 585 Will Waters, the Bov Ferret. By H. Enton.- BR6 The Buckakin Avenger. _ By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 5ST Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. By Wm, G, Patten. 588 Jack-o’-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector, By Jo Pierce. 589 Tom-Cat and Pard3 cr, The Dead Set at Silver City. By Lieut. A, K. Sims 590 Dendwood Dick, Jr’s., Decree, By E. L, Wheeler. 591 Delmonte., the Young Sea-Rover, By Col. P Ingraham. 592 The Boy Pinkerton. By J.C. Cowdrick. B98 Keen Clem, the Ranch Imp. _ By P, 8. Warne. B9A Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. By T. C. Harbangh. 595 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Beelzebub’s Basin, By E. L. Wheeler. Ready December 18, 1 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. By Chas. Morris. Rendy December 25, ; 597 The Young Texan Detective. By Col. P. Ingraham. Keady January 1. f 598 Flute, the Singer Detective, By Geo. C. Jenks. Ready January 8, 599 Jim Dandy, the No-Name Sport. By P. S. Warne. Ready January 15, 600 Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. By Edward LL Wheeler, Ready January 22 : A New Isaue Every Tuesday. The Walf-Dime Library ‘8 for sale by all newsdealers, five conta per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of slx cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, © 98 William Street, New Yerk. “=