Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 434) (1885 11 17)
The text was read from the page scans by machine (OCR), so it has mistakes and its columns may run together. See the pages · About this title · At the Internet Archive
Page 1
ri bie mi LLL a \ aaa eee rrerrreceeerreere =k aw S _Entered at the Post Office at New York, x. Yo at Second Class M ail Rates. Ths ice 1885, by RRADLE AND ) ADAMS, November 17, 106. $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, Vol XVIL a Year. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents, No, 484, tithes hit ' i ie mT i HW" AH CHE: Ay | i r Map AN HHI Ht | Dit i Hy Nt i / i AAA AN | a ee / A | | i ceeaseatee . WAL b \ ey { ! | ’ \\ 7 5 sil } Bits : ~ | + : hee Bist * e . 4 — hi aie —_ K \\ } irks! i { {hs HH i } tt " ' ii s* Hh iM ii H | } ’ | He + ; | i CS | j i A \ | ae } i \ % ¥ | { 1 i BN 7 \ yl HTL ! Mf t Hy A, | a ] Al typ lf ‘ } i f ! iti ANE v | i) i ~ A\\\S | . } i | : \{ \ LAP / S | WA ) A «\ \ VA, } Saat NUN ! : \9 ; , ft ALE 4 |)! } \ | Seo \ So . \ \ 'S SR ' . 4 = ; veal \ \ fi 4 uf / | y Sig ern ~\S OS Wy ; ui | Te Be See" f!/ ) , \ > . i y 1) “i \ll Hy ae i i = i " wif ree i | iN i) Die ue iy Mo PRIVATE DETECTIVES; PLAYING THREE HANDS. —___—_— BY E. L. WHEELER, AUTHOR OF ‘DEADWOOD DICK” KXOVELS, “ROSEBUD .ROB” NOVELS, ‘‘ DENVER DOLL ” NOVELS, ETC., ETC., teeth ae CHAPTER I. A DETECTIVE WANTED. Jamxzs BEAK, more popularly known as '“ Jim Beak,” a private detective of Philadel- phia, sat in his office on Spruce street one sunny afternoon in September, looking decidedly out , - now nd: of sorts. HE PAUSED, THRUST ONE HAND IN HIS HIP POCKET, AS IF TO DRAW A WEAPON, AND WITH A MOCK FROWM, DEMANDED: ‘‘ WHO'S AN IMP, JIM r
Page 2
2 He was a well-built man of twenty-seven years, and wore a fine glossy black beard. An observer, knowing nothing about him, would have taken him to be forty, at the least, all on account of the beard. Well dressed, he would have been a handsome man, for he had a pleasing face, lit up by a pair of keen, dark eyes—eyes that could silently speak volumes, either in enmity or friendship, Unfortunately, Mr. Beak’s personal appearance was somewhat compromised by a dress-suit which was glossy and well-worn, the once cloth-covered buttons in several instances being minus the covering, and the silk tile upon his office table showing certain evidences of hard usage. | The detective had been glancing over the col- umns of a daily paper, with his brows knitted in a sort of frown, or in worriment—it was hard to tell which. | He finally laid aside the paper, with an ex- clamation of impatience. ** Heigh ho!” he yawned, ‘‘ confound the luck. Nothing new, and nothing todo. If something don’t turn up bright before long ”"—with a rue- ful look at his garments—‘‘I shall have to give the detective business the go-by, and strike a job at street-cleaning. Ha, ha! tas an idea! Fan- cy Jim Beak wielding a broom, or handling a hoe, along with a gang of dagos, for the hum- ble pittance of a dollar per day, or thereabouts! Never! (’d turn huckster first, and go around yelling, ‘’Ere you go—sweet and white pota- toes, oh!’ “*T don’t think, however, James, that adversi- ty will ever bring you to that. You was cut out for something else than menial labor, I know. Nature ordained that you should live by your wits, and if all your friends have gone back on you, and your vocation turns out to be N. G., you’re the last man to lay down and say: ‘I'm going to croak!” This did not seem to comfort Mr. Beak par- ys for he looked more downcast than be- ore. ‘‘T wonder where Spider is?’ he went on. “That young imp isa cure for the blues, any time, and I'll acknowledge I’ve got ’em the worst kind to-day. Ah! as usual—Satan is al- ways at hand when you're talking about him ”— which assertion was due to the fact that a rather jolly and shabby-looking personage had sudden- y entered the room—a lad of the ‘ gamin” species, with a bundle of newspapers under his arm. He was tall, very slim, ea pores seventeen years of age, although helooked even younger and more roguish than that—roguish, we say, be- causs the very essence of good-nature and mis- chief shone from his deep-blue eyes. | His face, too, in its expression, indicated that he was at all times ready for fun. He was not a bad-looking lad, albeit he was shockingly dirty, and his attire was poor and ill- fitting—more designed for winter than summer. Jim Beak’s remarks evidently had been over- heard by this young individual, as he entered, for he paused, thrust one hand in his hip pocket, as if he were about to draw a weapon, and with a mock frown, demanded: ** Who's an imp, Jim Beak?” “You are, ry ena Beak assured, his face lighting-up. ‘‘Comeinand sit, you rascal. I was just saying I wished you would come.” “Why?” Spider asked, as he edged to a chair. ** Anything new on ther dockets?” *Nary a thing! I’ve got the worst case of blues you ever saw.” ‘*T know what'll cure ’em?” “ What?” ‘*Go faJl in love wi’ some girl. Tell ye, Jim, there’s nothing like et. When taut won't sell, IT jest sail right down to Middle Alley, hold a spell o’ courtship wi’ my pal, Botts, on Ma- loney’s doorstep, an’ when I come back, I can sell papers jest like suckin’ eggs.” “Pm doubtful if that remedy would help me,” Beak said, witha dry laugh. ‘‘The cure would be worse than the ailment, I fancy.” ‘**Humph. You're the queerest feller I ever see’d, Jim. Ef I had them whiskers o’ yourn I'd go mashin’ up an’ down Chestnut street, all day long—that’s no chestnut, neither!” ‘Oh! dry up! Won’t you ever let up on the whiskers?” ‘“Not as long as the wind goes sighin’ thru ’em!” ‘ But come, now—ain’t yer goin’ ter buy an Item, or er Call, or er News? Ther darned o' papers ain't sellin’ worth a cent, to-day!” ‘‘Buy a paper?” ejaculated Beak. ‘‘ Why Y’ve just been figgerin’ up my casb account, and 1 Gnd that in the future, unless something turns up, there are mighty few fifteen-cent meals in prospect. ’ Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. ! “Pshaw! Something will turn up—and I | wish there would, too, for it’s hot, sellin’ papers. rnb Tve got an idea, and you’ve gota head like a hen-hawk—see what you make out of this, Maybe it’s graft.” he newsboy then produced a letter, and hand- ed it to Beak. The stamp end of the envelope had been torn off, showing that the letter had been opened and read. The envelope was addressed simply to ‘‘ Terrgl Taylor, Philadelphia, Pa.” ‘** Singular name-- Terrol,” Beak muttered, as he withdrew the letter from theenvelope. ‘‘ Ah! let me see~-let me see. What's this?” The letter read, as follows: “ Phila., Sept. 10th. | ‘*TrRROL TAYLOR:— ‘*You area coward.a liar, and athief. You andI | are bitter enemies, so [ guess you know whol am, One of us must die. Meet meat Atlantic City, day- light, morning of the 18th, and if you are not what I hav~: called you, we wil] drive down the beach, and duel with revolvers, ** UNKNOWN.” ‘* Well, what der ye think of it?’ Spider de- manded. “Where did you get this?” ‘* Found it in the street, Tenth and Pine, just as I came here,” Beak put the letter in the envelope, and then, thrust it in his pocket, ‘** Whoever threw it away evidently thought it not worth consideration,” hesaid. ‘‘The man who wrote it, undoubtedly did it with malicious intent, but the man who received it probably disdained to notice the threat.” ‘*Think so? Now, et kinder looks to me like as ef the letter really had been lost, and that brain-blowin’ affair would really come off.” ‘Such a thing may be possible. If the two fools want to have a duel, they can have it, for all the money there is in it for us.” At this juncture the door opened, and an elder- ly gentleman entered—a man of about fifty years. He was rather tall and heavily proportioned, and altogether, an imposing personage, arrayed as he was, in fine attire, including a silk hat a gg and carrying a cane with a massive gold ead, His face was full and florid, and the powerful jowls as wellas heavy lines, gave him a stern ap- pearance, His cold gray eyes, too, tended to in- dicate that he was a man of great force of character. He paused just within the office, and leveled a mid glance at Beak and Spider. ** Ah! excuse me,” he said, ‘*T guess this is not the place I am looking for,” and he turned to go. ** Who did you wish to see?” Beak demanded, quickly. ‘*One James Beak, a private—ahem!—a pri- vate detective, sir.” ‘Exactly. Iam the man. Come back, and take a seat,” and Beak placed a chair for his visitor, ‘* You a detective?” the Visitor demanded, sur- veying James with a critical stare. ‘‘ Well!” ut he took the seat, and proceeded to busi- ness at once, ‘“*T was directed here by Mr. Baylock, of the mercantile firm of Baylock and Blynn, who re- commended. you highly. I expected, however, to encounter a somewhat different person, Ex- cuse me—I always speak to the point.” “Correct. You probably expected to find a man with a clerical visage, or else one’ of more foppish appearance, However, state your case. Your name, sir?” The visitor cast a severe glance at Spider, who, to use a slang phrase, was ‘takin’ it all in, ‘** Who is the boy?” was the gruff demand. ‘He isnamed Spider. I frequently use him to good advantage— trusty, and as true as steel, sir ‘Bah! Boys are not to be trusted any more, and if you wish to work up my case, you will have to keep boys out of it. Send him out!” This was said with surliness and a show of anger. _“* You may go, Spider,” Beak said, with a sig- nificant glance at the lad. “Allright, Jimmy. ’BouttimeI was shoutin’, anyhow. Say, sock et on ter the old man, stiff! Bet a hen ag’in’ a Hottentot he was never a boy hisself. By-by, baby,” and with a laugh that seemed to aggravate the visitor, Spider made his exit. ** You must excuse the boy,” Beak said. ‘‘ He’s full of life, you know.” | “Full of blackguardism, you mean,” was the gruff response. Then the visitor bridged a pair ef gold-rim- med glasses upon his nose, and took another sur- bh. of the detective. eak returned the stare with perfect com- placency. ‘*My name is Harrington Hurst,” the visitor said, at length, continuing his steady scrutiny of the detective. ** Ah! indeed.” ‘** You have heard of me?” ‘Yes. You retired from the Board of Trade, not long since, reputed very wealthy.” “Tdid. What more do you know of me?” ** Nothing.” “Well, reside in Germantown, on the avenue. Iam in need of a detective—I prefer a private one—to ferret out who robbed my house night before last. If you think you can handle the case quietly, and without its getting abroad, you are my man!” CHAPTER lI. A SINGULAR PROPOSITION. PROBABLY the Pequa Mills of Philadelphia, where acres of looms give employment to many hundreds of persons, old and young, is about one of the busiest scenes in the Quaker City, during working hours, for the millsare among the fore- most of those manufacturing cotton goods, if, indeed, not the most extensive. Here, among this vast amount of machinery, surrounded by a din that it would seem must deafen them, is congregatéd a horde of human beings who toil day by day for a pittance, as it were, and are so identified with their work as to seem almost a part of the noisy machinery itself —men and women, girls and boys, youth and old age mingled and mingling like bees in the hive. Of the many girls employed in the Pequa Mills at the time of which we write, Myra Mow ton was voted the prettiest of all, and not a few of the mill hands, were decidedly in love with her. She was about eighteen years of age, a trifle below the medium big!:t of women, possessed of a charming manner aud presence and was al- ways dressed with ¢i1¢!ul neatness, even though her attire was plain. Quite a contrast was her appearance, in this respect, with that of man another poorly and even slovenly-dressed poe f who toiled at the thumping, throbbing, tireless looms. In face Myra Morton was very attractive; her features were small and round, her com- plexion fresh and pure, her cheeks rosy and her mouth small, and ever sweet of expression. Purity and honor shone from her sparkling brown eyes, which she was unconsciously wont to use, with fascinating effect. Her hair was the color of her eyes, and always was tastefully arranged. While Myra had admirers by the score, in and outside of the mills, she never allowed them to consider that they were her company, with one exception. This was young Carrol Carter, and he seemed to stand high in Myra’s estimation, for he came regularly to the mill, at night, and escorted her home, much to the énvy of the other girls, who had no beau or escort—in particular. Carter was rather a dashing young fellow, of pleasing face and figure, about twenty-five years of age, but looking much younger. Hc jada “love” of a blonde mustache, as 1!* cirls averred, and was a good conversatic?: | :rvd of winning manner. He was accomplished in nearly everything in which a person need to be accomplished to be noticeable in pect society, and it was therefore no wonder that pretty Myra was captivated with him. However, it is not with Carter we would at present deal. When Myra Morton left the Pequa Mills, at six o’clock the day of Mr. Harrington Hurst’s visit to Detective Jim Beak, she was much sur. prised, and not a little annoyed, to find that Carter was not waiting for her, at his accus- tomed corner—annoyed, because some of the girls who knew of her acquaintance with Car- ter, stared at her, as they passed, and then nudged each other and laughed, as they noticed Myra’s evident disappointment. “What can have caused Carrol’s delay?” Myra said, to herself. ‘He said he would be here to- night, with something important to tell me,” and the pretty girl’s cheeks grew a trifle rosier, in anticipation of what that matter of import- ance might be—a proposal, perhars. She waited several minutes, then took a short walk, and finally returned to the corner, But Carter was not there, nor was he any- where to be seen in the neighborhood. % > ee ee — —~ a
Page 3
After lingering a few moments longer, Myra drew a long sigh, and wended her way home- ward alone. It was the first time in nearly six months that she had not had Carrol Carter for her es- cort. She lived in a small street not far from Twen- tieth and Spring Garden, where her mother )--pt a little candy store, and earned a few dol- lars toward their support. ; When she reached home, Myra only with ef- fort repressed her tears. The disappointment of not meeting Carter was keen, for his long and careful attentions to her had truly won ber affection. . When she entered the store no one was in at- tendance, but on entering the sitting-room she found her mother seated there, in company with a stylishly-dressed man of perhaps thirty-two years. . Mrs. Morton was a woman of fifty or there- abouts, of portly figure, and essed of a hard yet not unhandsome face, cold, calculating gray eyes, and hair that was as white as snow. Her companion, or rather her visitor—for Myra had never seen him before to her knowl- edge—was a tall, muscular man, with a singu- ay white countenance, jet-black eyes and hair, and an expression that was both sinister and re- ing. ; Oe oration Myra, as she entered, with a stare, that at once created in her a positive dis- like for him. ‘‘Myra, this is Mr. Gilbert,” Mrs, Morton said. ‘ He has come to see you on a matter of the-utmost importance.” “To see me?” Myra replied, after a slight nod in acknowledgment of Gilbert’s gracious bow. ; ‘Yes, dear. I—I—but perhaps Mr. Gilbert can state his own case best. Be seated,” - With no little wonderment, Myra laid aside her hat and seated herself. {Yous ‘Ahem! You see,” Gilbert began, ‘‘ this is rather a ticklish matter—ahem!—but there is but one way of doing it, and that is by going at it broadcast. “You have, I understand, been re- ceiving the attentions of a young man named Carrol Carter?” : Myra’s eyes sparkled with a rifle of anger, while a wave of color swept over her face. “‘T have been acquainted with such a person,” she replied, coldly. ‘* Ah! yes, 1 know. Your mother has told me that you and Carter were in love with each other, and there was a fine prospect that your little courtship would result in marriage. Now, nothing in the world would please me betiter than to sse you two joined in the bonds of wed- lock.” ‘** Indeed!” ete? ‘*Rxactly. You may be surprised at this in- terest on my part, but I can easily explain. Unknown to him, I am a strong personal friend of Carter’s. In every-day life we are no more than speaking acquaintances, but still my love for that fellow is something great. To see him settled down with a nice little wife, such as I infer you would make, would please me exceed- ingly. Why, sir, Mr, Carter is not an unsteady young man, is he?” Myra innocently inquired. shi yh, no; far from it. In fact, I don’t know of a more exemplary young man. That’s why IT want to see him get married right away, you know. ‘‘He’s a handsome and dashing young fellow, and naturally much sought after, and therefore in some danger of falling into bad ways, you know. Then, too, he is liable to come into a fine sum of money, soon, and it were better he were married, than single, when he gets it—for ou know, money, is a powerful root of evil. He ittle suspects what is poneinig to him, and I beg of you not to mention what I have told you.” “Yes? But, sir, I cannot understand—” “Tot! tut! Iwill make it plainer. I want you to marry Carrol Carter, at once. Promise me to do so, and I will lay one thousand dol- lars in your hands to start page recog wish.” ‘‘ Now, then, dear,” spoke up Mrs. Morton, triumphantly. : Myra was more than astonished. Her looks showed it, too. i While Mr. Gilbert laughed, quietly. ‘* Why—why, sir, this is all very strange,” Myra said, nervously. ‘‘ Mr. Carter and I are not engaged. Indeed, he has never yet asked me to marry him, sir.” - “Not? Oh! well, that is a matter of little con- sequence, You are satisfied he likes you—or, in stronger terms, loves you.” —_ “T_J—really, sir, I don’t think you ought to expect me to answer such a question.” Jim Be And Myra blushed, charmingly. ““Oh! well, we will take it for granted that you both love one another,” Gilbert went on, dryly. ‘‘ Women havea knack of drawing aman on to propose, when he is least prepared for it. I know that, by experience. Now, my dear Miss Morton, do ry not think you could draw Car- ter on, so that he would propose to you when you next meet again?” “a Sir 1? ““Tut! tut! now. Don’t let mock-modesty in- terfere with business. You can easily, by a lit- tle hugging and kissing, induce Carter to pro- pose to you, and then urge him to marry you at once. Then you get the thousand dollars.” ‘Sir, I am astonished to think that you could believe me so bad as that!” Myra exclaimed. ‘* Mother, who is this man?—for he is no gentle- man to make such a proposal as he has!” ‘Mr. Gilbert is a perfect gentleman, dear, and his motives are honorable,” Mrs. Morton as- sured, her features relaxing none from their hardness of expression. ‘‘ You will do well to heed his directions,” “* But, mother, this is so strange and incon- sistent.’ ‘*Pshaw! Nothing of the kind,” Gilbert as- sured, a trifle impatiently. ‘“/Itsa matter of necessity—not particularly so far as you are concerned, but, in Carter’s case, If I knew of another girl he was in love with, I would try her. You see, the fact is, my dear young lady, that Carter must be a husband within three days. On your promise not to divulge to him, or any one else, the reason, I will give it to you. Myra’s curiosity was, naturally, by this time, wrought up to fever heat. ! Carter must be a husband within three days? If so, why? What could be the secret? She hesitated a moment, and then said: ‘You can give me the reason. I wil be silent.” ‘‘As I supposed. You look like a sensible girl, and when you come to know the truth, you will see that all is for your interests and welfare. Indeed, I fancy you will drop to the game at once.” Myra looked rather doubtful at this. The ex~ pression occurred to her as being decidedly in- elegant, coming as it did from a man who wore a diamond ring and pin. **'You see,” Gilbert went on, affably, ‘‘ Carrol has an eccentric uncle who worships the boy after a peculiar fashion, although he has thus far never helped him toa penny. Satisfied, at last, that Carrol has arrived at an age where good young men begin to think of settling down, this uncle has concluded to give Carrol a most hand- some sum of money, immediately after his mar- riage, which he has finally decided must take place at once. “The uncle has kad Carrol shadowed, and thus found that he was keeping company with you. He has investigated your antecedents and come to the conclusion that you are the very oung woman that Carrol must marry. I have n commissioned, as his agent, to see that the marriage takes piace in three days’ time. If it does not, Carrol will never receive a cent. Do yousee? Then, too, Carrol must know nothing of this coming fortune, until after the marriage. ‘“‘On your sacred promise to get him to marry you, which, no doubt, will be one of the easiest things in the world, I will pay you the one thousand dollars. ‘You then can tell him you have saved up that much, and he will think it—” ‘** What! tell a lie?” Myra exclaimed. ‘‘ No, not I!” “Tut! tut! A little fib like that won’t hurt any one.” ‘It would hurt me /” was the response. ‘I had better bringing up, sir, than to tell an un- truth.” ~ Gilbert glanced at the coldly composed face of rg Morton, as if he wondered how this could But he did not speak his thoughts. **Oh! well, you can tell Carter just what you ene you know,” he wenton, ‘‘ Women often ave a way of getting around a point, better than men, All that’s required is for you to marry Carter within three days, and don’t let him know anything about. what’s coming to him until after marriage. Now, then, you under- stand the case, and of course you will try to score the point which will make you the posses- sor of enough money to start you to housekeep- ing nicely,” and as if. Faces what Myra’s an- swer would be, Mr. Gilbert drew a large roll of bank-notes from his pocket, ‘* Oh! of course, Myra will do everything that’s ak and Pal, Private Detectives 3 right,” Mrs, Morton declared, her eyes glistenin at sight of so much money. ‘Myra has Carro fairly snared, and you can rest assured I'll help the matter along all 1 can.” ‘“Myra will very likely consult her own wishes in this matter,” Myra quickly spoke up. ‘ This seems to me like a conspiracy, Mr. Gilbert, and I cannot consent to become a party to it, until I have had time to think. As for my proposing to Carrol Carter, that’s out of the question. And it is hardly probable he will propose to me, in the time you have specified. So keep your money. If I conclude totry what you have sug- gested, I will leave word. to that effect before go to work in the morning. Good-night, sir,” and rising, Myra swept from the room, with the haughty. carriage of a queen, Mr. Gilbert smothered an oath and bit his lips from vexation. Why kad he made this most singular pro- posal? Why was the proposed match worth a thou- sand dollars to him? CHAPTER III. THE STRANGE MARRIAGE. DETECTIVE JIM BEAK picked up his pencil and writing-pad, with a quiet smile of assu- rance, “Well,” he said, “I have been notably suc- cessful in running burglars into custody, and I have scarcely a doubt but what I can handle Pan case ina way that will be quite satisfac- ry. Pit so, good! But the offenders are not to be taken into custody without my knowledge and consent.” ‘* Exactly! I understand. Will you now give me some outline of the case, so that I will know how to begin work?” “Well, sir, I live at No. —, Germantown avenue.” “Yes? Have got it.down—know the neigh- borhood pretty well.” ‘“One point in your favor, then. Night before last my residence was entered, between the hours of seven and eight, and robbed of a valu- able document that was locked up in my private secretary, which stands in the front parlor, on the first’ floor.” ‘You are sure the robbery occurred between these hours?” ‘* Positive. We were at dinner at the time. Before dinner I had the paper in my hands, and replaced it in the pigeon-hole, where I usually keep it, and took particular pains to lock the secretary securely cn leaving the room.” “On your return tothe room, the document was gone, I presume?” “Yes. On unlocking the desk, I made the discovery that it was gone, I at once ques- tioned all the members of my household, but none of them had been in the parlor since I had been summoned to dinner,” / x And no one was in the room when you left itm No.” ‘* The entrance to the room—” “Ts from the hall, There is but one door, which was open.” ‘“‘Tlow ahout the windows?” ‘““There are two. The lower sash was raised enough to admit a pair of wive screens,” ‘Could these screens have been removed?” “Yes. But it is not likely any one from the outside would attempt their removal, as they would have to stand on their tiptoes; and then, too, there is a cigar store across the street, out- side of which a number of persons are always lounging after six o'clock, and they would have been certain to have seen any one who attempt ed to get into the house through the window,’ ‘* How about the door—the front one?” **No one can gain entrance there, except by being in possession of a latch-key.” ‘* And the rear?” ‘¢ There is a small back-yard, in which a cros# dog is always ready to sound an alarm.” Could any one gain entrance to the house from the roof ?” “ec No.” . “Then it would appear the thief must have had a latch-key, sir?” “Yes, I do not see how he could have gained entrance without attracting attention, in any other manner,” “Yes? Well, now, let me see, This secretary of | pre -bas itan ordinary lock?” es “The burglar apparently must have had a key “aera that, too?” ‘ es. ’ “Did any of your household have a key to it” ** Not that I am aware of, sir.”
Page 4
** How many have you in your family?” ‘My family, direct, is composed only of my daughter and myself. Then, Il have a housekeep- er, an elderly English lady; and two other ser- | vants, but they are of unimpeachable character, and have long been in my employ. A personal friend of mine, Mr. Gilbert Guion, has a room in the second story, and gets his meals at the | vestaurants. He is also above suspicion, being a suitor for my daughter’s hand, and a wealthy bachelor.” “This neéd not necessarily make him above suspicion,” Beak said, dryly. ‘‘ We detectives are not very particular whom we suspect, as | Jong as we eventually get ourman. Was Guion jn his room at the time of the robbery?” “No, He never gets in, evenings, until late.” ‘* What was this document you have lost, sir?” Harrington Hurst hesitated, grew red in the face, and was evidently not over anxious to im- part this information. **Must you know this?” he demanded, eying the detective rather distrustfully. “Certainly!” Beak responded. ‘I should have a fine time finding the paper, indeed, with- out knowing what it was.” “*So you would! So you would! But—but you see, it is an important family secret, and I —I don’t know—” : ‘You don’t know whether you can trust me or not?” ‘* Well, I—I—you see—” “*T see,” Beak assured. ‘‘In seeking a detec- tive’s assistance, you haven’t the confidence that ou can rely on his integrity. Very well, sir. ou had better give your case to the policeg|e- tectives,” be “No! no! that would never do, at all. I would rather trust you than them. But, you must promise not to give away what I tell you.” ‘“*T very rarely make promises, sir. If what vou have to say concerns the case, you can de- pend upon my silence.” “Ah! thatis right. Then, I will tell you how it is. You see, some three months ago, m daughter, a very beautiful girl, (but like all girls not yet having arrived at an age of dis- cretion) contracted a marriage with a young fel- low, who had neither profession, social recogni- tion, nor employment. When my daughter showed me the marriage-certificate, you may well believe I was thunderstruck, for I never en- tertained a suspicion that she would so lower herself, and bring disgrace upon me. **T had also, by a strong obligation, previous- ly pledged her te another man, and was in duty bound to keep my pledge. So, I was in a bad fix. After having given ay daughter a severe lecture, she repented her folly, and I secured the certificate and made pretense to destroy it. Fool I was, that I didn’t do it! I placed it in my secretary, and locked it up. **T then hunted the man oy child had mar- ried, warned him never to lay claim to my daughter, as there was in fact no marriage, the person who had performed the ceremony—a per- ambulating minister—having no authority to perform it at al., ‘* He defied me, and we quarreled, Finally he stated that he would remain in the background for a few months, by which time my daughter would be of age, when he would remarry her in spite of me.” ‘What are your objections to this match?” **Tn the first place, the fellow is poor, and has no occupation; in the second place, my daughter is too far above him, in sc station, for me to think of eh 3 her to live with the worthless beggar, and in the third place, she is promised to another. But this has nothing to do with the burglary.” ‘That remains to be found out. So this aiding One a was stolen and nothing else “ Nothing. There were five hundred dollars in the same desk, but it was not touched.” ‘Your daughter, then, is legally married?” ** Ourse it, [am afraid so, But the certificate once more in my hands, it cannot be proved that she ever was married, as the man who tied the knot has disappeared.” * Do you know where he is?” “ No * Beak looked at the ex-speculator as if he rath- er doubted his word. What is your daughter’s name?” ** Hazel.” ** What is her husband’s name?” ¢ “The fellow is known as Terrol Taylor. There’s no certainty whether that is his right name or not, for his antecedents are very ob- acure. “Where does he live?” Beak asked, not betray- ing the surprise he felt. ‘* That is hard to tell, He is generally to be found hanging around a saloon at Ninth and Sansom streets.” ‘*Has your daughter ever seen him since her marriage?” “No, indeed! She has been forbidden to leave the house except in my escort.” ‘* Ah! Has Taylor been in the vicinity?” “Not that [ am aware of.” “What is the name of the man to whom you have promised your daughter?” ** Gilbert Guion, who rooms in m ‘* What is the pay to be in case tificate?” “You are supposed to know your terms. I house.” find the cer- | will not :top at a few dollars as long as I get the document,” “Do you think Terrol Taylor has the paper?” ‘‘How am I to know, or guess? It disap- peared so mysteriously that I can form no opin- ion. ss Perhaps your daughter has possessed herself of it, ‘**No; she labors under the supposition that I destroyed it immediately after she gave it to me. Tken, too, she was in the dining-room when I entered it and still there when I left it.” Then Hazel Hurst, clearly, had had no hand in the theft, “ Does Gilbert Guion know of this marriage?” Beak demanded, ‘* Why do you ask!” “For reasons best known to myself. If you want me to handle your case you must answer my ¢ uestions.” ‘Yes, he knows about it. ** Does he know Terrol Taylor?” ‘** He knows of him?” ** Are they on good terms?” “T don’t think they bear any great degree of love for each other. But, why do you ask these singular questions? You understand that the unfortunate marriage of my daughter must not be suspected by any one?” ‘Certainly! I am notin the habit of being free with what I hear. This job will cost you five dollars, sir.” “ Wha ” “Five dollars.” ‘Why, what in the world do you mean?” and Hurst looked his amazement. ‘*T said five dollars,” Beak answered, calmly, “because that is what it will cost you, in ad- vance, in case I do not find the certificate, which I rather despair of doing.” ‘*¢ And in case you do recover it—?” “ Rive hundred!” “Cheap enough! But, I'll go you still better. Place the original certificate in my hands and I will give you five thousand—do you hear—five thousand ” “Very well; I will see what I can dofor you!” “But, understand—no one must suspect your me. No one must get a hint of the burglary, or that my Hazel was ever married!” “T will try and comply with your wishes, One more question. Does Hazel respect Gilbert Guion enough to marry him?” The retired broker shrugged his shoulders. ‘ Well—well, slie professes not to,” he said, ‘but that’s all folderol, She will come to her senses, in time.” And, then, after they had exchanged a few more words, Hurst took his departure, CHAPTER IV. THE SPIDER’S TRAIL. Arter Harrington Hurst had taken his depar- ture, Jim Beak remained in his office for some time, in a deep study. “Funny case, this,” he said, ‘and I hardly know where to begin on it, dashed if I do, If the old chap hadn’t made such a liberal offer, I'd let it go, for something about it don’t look on the square “Hazel Hurst is legally married to a man named Terrol Taylor, but the old man is trying to break the marriage, on the quiet, and then make her marry a man named Gilbert Guion. That would be bigamy outright, no matter whe- ther the certificate is found, or not. The gir] is kept literally a prisoner, for fear she will see Taylor. Then, too, the parson who performed the ceremony has disappeared. Humph! this may prove a highly-interesting case, Ps . Tay- lor has been challenged to fight a duel on the beach near Atlantic City, by ‘Unknown.’ That may have some connection with this case, Plai in , I shall need to find Taylor, and size him He left his office, locking the door behind him. azing up and down the street he saw Spider, the newsboy, approaching, whistling, merrily. **Hillo!” he saluted, as he came up, ‘‘ what Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. Ser nS pe —_ =z —————e did old pepper tongue have to say, Jamesy, thet he wer’ so purtickler about me?” **Oh! he intrusted me with a case, that’s all.” “Did he? That's good, perwidin’ ther’: any show in it fer me. What kind of a case was et?” ‘** A show case,” Beak smiled. ‘‘ Come along with me, Spider. Do you know any of the hung- ers-about up at Ninth and Sansom?” J “Guess I know purty nearly every mug that's fermilyer, ’round them corners, ’specially ’mong ther guys an’ hoss-jockeys, an’ sports. I take a turn wi’ a box, on days 0’ hoss sales at ther bazaar ” ‘Good! Did you ever hear of Terrol Taylor, down there—the man that the letter-writer chal- lenged to fight a duel?” Spider removed his apolog scratched his head, thoughtfully. *““Terrol Taylor?’ he soliloquized—‘‘let me see. There’s Toby Taylor, the old hoss-jockey— an’ Jim Taylor, the big policeman—” ‘Neither Toby nor Jim, but Terrol Taylor.” ‘Then, 1’m not onter yerman. Holdup—yes Iam, too! There’s.another feller called Taylor, w’at eats at er cheap restaurant, an’ then comes an’ picks his ‘ eeth in front of ther Conternental Hotel. Oh! he’s a gallus cove; you bet!” ‘* How do you know his‘name is Taylor?” ‘*Heerd a couple o’ gamblers call his name, from ’cross the street, once, an’ he nodded ter em.” , ‘Did he join. them?” ‘‘No, He kept right on pickin’ his teeth.” ‘Would you know him if you were to see him again?” ‘You bet!” ‘“‘Then we will saunter up that way. to see this man.” ‘* Ain’t yer goin’ ter take me inter partner- ship, Jim?’ Yer kno’ I’ve helped you a heap, afore now.” “Oh! Pll use you, never fear.” “But, ain’t yer goin’ ter put me onter ther racket?” “Not just now. Time enough for that, by- and-by.” “Dunno "bout that. Two heads are better’n one, ef one is a sheep’s head.” They walked along in silence, unti] they reach- ed one of the corners of Ninth and Sansom streets, where Spider believed they would find Terrol Taylor. A number of people usually are collected in the vicinity, some of whom are business or sporting men, and some are idlers of question- able character. ‘Well, do you see your mari?” asked Beak after his partner had taken a sharp look about i of a hat, and I'd like m, “No, I don’t light onter him yet, but he’ll be about, before long. He ginerally stands,over yonder, where he is conspiceros to all ther wo- men that pass.” ‘* He’s a masher, eh?” ‘‘Dunno’s he’s ’zactly that, for I never see’d him say anything ter any of the girls, but ’pears kinder like ter me as how he’s mashed on his- self.” They waited a few minutes em pg and then, leaving Spider to keep watch, Jim Beak sauntered up as far as the post-office, and back, As he returned a woman was standing at the corner of Ninth and Walnut, below where he left Spider, and Spider was standing before her, evidencing that they were engaged in conversa- tion The woman was deeply vailed, and dressed in black, but her pretty figure made it apparent that she was still quite young, She looked up and down the street, at quick intervals, and appeared to be considerably dis- tressed about something. Beak halted at Sansom street, refraining from approaching any nearer, but in great curiosity to know what his young pard was saying to her; for Spider was making queer gestures, and evi- dently working his talking machine, to its full- est capacity. ! Finally the woman turned away, and disap- ared from view around the corner, Spider astening back toward his friend. ‘““ Who was that woman?” Beak demanded, “Dunno, Purty gal, though; could see that through her vail.” ‘* What did she want?” “She wanted to know which of the wharves ‘long the Delaware a person would be the least liable to be seen upon after dark.” ‘‘Ha! She means suicide.” ** Guess she does, fer she ‘peared as nervous as a cat in er tub o’ hot water. I axed her what she wanted to know for, and she said she wanted to sit alone and watch the boate on the river, I
Page 5
Jim Beak and Pal. told her this was only a ’scuse, an’ thet she only wanted ter drown herself. Then she said: ‘What! I drown myself? Well, I guess not. I have too much to live for!’ Then she laffed so bitter that et made me ’magine I was tastin’ a chicken’s gall. I finally told her thet if she wanted ter commit suicide, Noble street wharf was the boss place, and et were romantic, too, *ca’se how more people hed committed suicide ‘from there than ary other wharf ‘long ther river. Thenshe fetched up a deep sigh, an’ away she went.” Beak gave vent to a low whistle. “You stay here till you get eyes. on the fel- low, Taylor, and once you do, don't you lose track of him until to-morrow, unless you find where he lives. Can you do it?” “Well, I should expect! I’ve did sech a thin before, an’ why can’t Ido it ag’in? Bet you can! It will be ‘ Will ye walk into my parlor, said the Spider to the iy, when I once get my focus onter his jiblets.” “Very well; I will trust you, See that he has no suspicion that he is followed.” “ Allright, Where you off to?” ** Tn pursuit of the would-be suicide.” And Beak hurried away, and soon disap- ared. “Well, here’s a go!” Spider soliloquized. *““You’re in fer another detective racket, Syl- vester Spider, but it ain’t yer first one. Last time yer got a soaker on the head from old. Jake Morgan, w’ot give ye a headache yer won't fer- git very soon. And I’m a hump-backed hood- um ef I ain't got et in fer Saka: He an’ me will hev ter take a walk tergether, one o’ these days, and fight it out. *Spect I better be pre- parin’ fer ther rival o’ Mister Terrier Taylor.” The gamin espied a boy younger than himself whom he knew, and giving him money, sent him after a bundle of papers. In the course of twenty minutes he had a oodly assortment of the evening journals, and voice rung out clearly as he shouted for their sale. He moved back and forward about the neigh- borhood of Ninth and Sansom, taking care not to get.so far away but what he would see Tay- lor in case he put in an appearance. And Taylor did put in an appearance, sure enough, just before dark—a handsomely-formed young fellow, of good hight and development, and who had a round, pleasané face, light-brown eyes and hair, and a most graceful blonde mus- tache. He was dressed in a faultless, tailor-made, light suit, with a white plug hat, stand-up col- lar, handsome watch-chain and gold-headed eane, and looked less like a dude than a dandy. He paused near the big hotel entrance, and,.as Spider had before made mention,. proceeded to ick his teeth with the air of one who had just nished a repast within the hostelry. ‘Oh! my eyes, but ain’t he layin’ it on thick!” chuckled the Spider, as he took a speculative squint at the man he was to shadow. ‘“ He makes me sick, he does! He jest feels:es big as er canary what’s got er new cage, an’ I’ll bet the last grub he had was pie an’ milk—only ten cents. Whoop-la! How my gal Botts would laugh ef she were to twig his jiblets! Botty is a connoi- sier on beauty, or she’d never got stuck on me. Wonder how long his bones is goin’ ter stand there? Mebbe he’ll buy a paper. And the urchin moved toward Mr. Terrol Tay- loy, crying: ‘oHre’s yer News, Star, Call an’ Item—ere’s yer Jtem, one cent; all bout ther prize-fight in ther Twenty-second ward. Paper, mister—one cent.” And he paused, holding out a paper in front of Mr. Taylor invitingly. ‘*No! I want no paper—get out!” Taylor re- plied, turning*away and walking as far as Chest- nut street. | Here he paused a moment, a not very satisfied expression upon his face; then he crossed over to the north side of Chestnut street, and walked slowly westward. A Shouting the sale of his papers, Spider follow- ed on the south side of the street, and had no difficulty in keeping his man in sight, for Taylor did not appear in much of a hurry. If he was just taking an after-supper stroll, however, it struck Spider it was a long one, for they had finally reached Twentieth street, into which Taylor turned, going north. *¢ Well, I'll be kicked for a cat!” Spider solilo- quized. ‘I'd jest like to know where the chapis goin’. Ah! I have it—to the park, mebbe. But, who'd think a gallus chap like him would walk way out thar? Mebbe he’s broke.” f an hour later Spider became satisfied that hissurmise was correct, for Taylor entered a pawnbroking establishment on Callowhill street. After about ten minutes he left the store and continued on his way. ‘* He's still got his cane. I'll bet he’s soaked his watch,” Spider said, with a knowing wink. ‘That kinder makes it look as though he wer’ goin’ on a racket or else to.see his girl, and was in need of sume candy cash.” From the pawnbroker’s Taylor went direct to the candy store of Mrs. Morton. Business. was dull, and pretty Myra was seated on the doorsteps. She arose and greeted Taylor with smiles, and then they both sat down together. Spider saw this much from the corner, but a short distance away, but of course could not hear what was said. ‘‘His jiblets has got a. mash,” he mused. “This ain’t what my pard wants ter know, I reckon. He wants ter know where Terrier Tay- lor takes off hisshoes when he retires to his var- tuous couch. ‘*S’pose I shall have to loaf around heer, till he gits inter motion fer hum-base, No tellin’ when thatll be. Ef I cu’d only git inter a fight wi’ some boys et would be some relief ter the mono- teny.” But the boys of the neighborhood who were of Spider’s own size were rather few and far be- tween. He had sold all his papers, so he had nothing to do but put his hands in his pocket, and whistle— and wait, He did not have so long to wait as he had an- ticipated, for he soon saw Taylor and Myra com- ing out of the narrow street. ‘he girl had on her hat and they were going to take a walk, evidently. Spider began to cast about for some place where he would not attract particular attention, fearing that Taylor would recognize him, when an idea struck him, for pulling his hat down so as to shade his face he scratched a ring on the dirty sidewalk, and dropping on his knees, took some marbles from his pocket, and began play- ing a lone-handed game. A couple of minutes later, Terrol Taylor and his ‘‘mash” came out of the narrow street, and pon the gamin, little suspecting who or what e@ was ep lp al SSeS ‘¢ Let’s goin by the Green street entrance, Car- rol,” Myra was saying, ‘* and go as far as Lem- on Hill. I think it’s so pleasant there, of a warm, moonlight night.” ‘* So they are going to the park, eh?” mutter- ed Spider, ‘‘ an’ she calls him Carrol. Humph! Carrol—Terrol; Terrol—Carrol. He’s a reg’lar cart-hoss fer names. Have to tell Jamesy about that. And I reckon while they’re walkin’ ter Lemon Hill, Pll jump a keer, ride ter ther Wa- ter Works entrance, an’ get there a little ahead of ’em. Ef I can git so as tew hear what they’ve got to say, mebbe I can learn a few p’inters *bout Iove, so I can fire ’em at Botts, my ral.” And he suited action to the word. Boarding a Callowhill street car, he was soon at the water works, from where he made his entrance into the park, arriving at the foot of Lemon Hill re twenty minutes in advance of Taylor anc yra. The moon sent down a mellow radiance, but there were many dark nooks on the wooded hill, which the moonlight did not a And Terrol Taylor, alias Carrol Carter, and Myra wandered to one of thesenooks, and found seats upon a settee. “This is out of the line of general pedestrian travel, and we are not so likely to be overheard,” Carrol said. ; Little did he suspect that Spider, the newsboy and detective apprentice, lay cuddled up under the very seat on which they sat. They remained silent for several minutes, as if communing with their own thoughts; then, Tay- lor finally continued: ‘““No, Myra, my sweetest, I couldn’t meet you when you left the mill to-night, because I had some little matters to attend to, down town— had to wait for something to be finished. You know when I left you, last night, my jewel, I told you I had something to tell you to- night?” “Yes, Carrol.” ‘Well, I suppose you may already have guessed what it was—young ladies are so apt at g. ‘““ Why, how could I guess? You might have lots of things to tell me about, I am sure.” ‘¢But, [haven’t. Iam a plain matter-of-fact man, who don’t indulge in fairy tales, or things like that. What I have to tell you, Myra, is that I love you, passionately, 'y, and devo- a eee oF ivate Detectives. 5 ee ee — —L—Ja$& tedly, and I want you for my wife. You need not bush dearest, nor pretend surprise. I feel sure you have known of my affection, for many weeks, and I have been vain enough to believe that my love was in some degree returned. Tell me, my Myra, do you not love me just a little, and will you not make me forever happy, by promising to be my own little wife? Speak te me, Myra, and let me hear you say yes.’ And he clasped her passionately in his em brace, and gazed yearningly into her face. She did not at once attempt to release him, but said in a low voice. “*T have always liked this is unexpected. I—lI ‘* What, dearest—tell me!” ‘*T had not thought of marriage yet—that is, I—I am afraid you would soon regret marrying me, Iam but a poor factory girl, and you—” ‘* What am I? I-am poor, also. At present IT have no work; but in a few days I expect to spring a surprise upon the public that will make me at least considerable above penury. I can- not tell you what it is, but inside the week I will have money that my own hands and brains have earned, when people looked upon me as an idler. So you see, we will be able to go nicely \ to housekeeping by ourselyes—oh! Myra, just think how happy we could be—that is, if you only love mea tithe as much as I love you,” ‘““T do love you, Carrol. But—” ‘11 stop all ‘buts!’” he replied, kissing her rapturously. ‘ But,” persisted Myra, ‘‘are you sure you don’t love any one else—that no other girl has a claim upon your affection?” ‘‘Of course not! What a foolish question to ask! Do you su pose I could love two girls at the same time? No, indeed! You are the only one I love, and you can make me happy. Look! here is the engagement ring with your name al- ready engraved on the inside, See! And now let me place it upon your finger and consider you mine—mine forever!” There was no answer from Myra, but an audi- ble exchange of kisses satisfied young Spider sprawled out under the seat, that the ring ha been placed on the finger. ‘‘T have not promised yet,” Myra said, after a few moments, ‘“‘and before I do, you must consent to one thing.” ‘“‘ Anything, dearest. You have but to speak,” ‘““You must put your alleged love for me to the test.” “ How?” ‘By marrying me to-night !” “ To-night, Myra?” “Yes, to-night!” ‘Bless you, my darling! Nothing could please me better than to at once tie the knot that makes you forever mine. But, tell me, why to-night?” ‘Just a notion of mine, perhaps. The moon is bright to-night, Carrol, but it may not always be so bright.” And tears filled the you, Carrol, but this— Lage oor innocent apy eyes » at the thought, what if this should all be a fitful mocking dream of happiness after all? What if he should not love and be true to her, who now holds her so affectionately in his embrace?” “‘ There now, don’t, dear!” Carrol said, kissing away. the tears that rolled down upon her cheeks. ‘““The moon will ever shine bright for two lov- ing hearts like ours, even tho’ we start in life at an humble step in the ladder. Come, love! Your wish shall be mine, Before I leave you at your mother’s door, I shall have the right to call you wife.” ‘*No—no! not to-night, Carrol! I—I° was only joking,” ‘“Nonsense, sweetheart! You have given me ths notion, and it must be carried out, Wewill go straight before a magistrate and within an hour you will be Mrs. Carrol Carter, and I will be the happiest fellow the moon ever shone upon,” Mi Are you sure, Carrol?” doubtfully. ‘“‘T would stake my life on it.” They arose then and moved away out ef the loom into the moonlight, Myra leaning ye is arm and looking so joyous and happy, that passers-by turned to gaze after them. The moon sent down its light upon them as if to betoken them a life of pleasant ways, while the stars twinkled merrily in the blue dome of heaven. And Mr. Sylvester Spider crawled out from under the settee, ‘¢ Well, I'll be kicked for a cat!” was his first mild utterance. ‘' Ef thet weren’t a circus, ’'m a giraffe! Luv? Lordy m ! thet was luv— ther reg’ler, old heart-bu’stin’ kind, five octaves deep! There ain’t goin’ ter be no time log neither, Terrier Carrol Taylor believes o
Page 6
Jim clinchin’ nails soon’s they’re driv’. Don’t blame him, neither. Oh! ef 1 was down in Middle Alley, ter see my gal, Botts, wouldn’t I pour ther luv inter her ear, tho’! Bet I would! Botts ain’t like Taylor’s gal fer good looks, but she’s a stavin’ good washer, tho’, an’ s’ports her sick mammy like a man, an’ sor everything clean as wax. Ther only thing l’ve got ag’in’ Botts is, she will go barefooted, an’ ef her feet keeps on growin’, they’ll be as big as ther Chi- cago gals’, w’ot you read about in the paper. But now, I s’pose I must meander along after Taylor an’ his gal, an’see ef they do really it spliced. Ther’ won’t be no further use o’ my frailin’ him then, fer he’ll most likely put up wi’ his mammy-in-law, bein’ ignerant an’ not posted about ’em. He wears his hair cut cluss—that’s one good thing!” And at'ter them Spider glided, as they wended their way out of the park. CHAPTER V. HAZEL. Let us now follow Jim Beak. For he felt it his duty to shadow the vailed woman, and see thatshe did not do harm to her- self. He would have shadowed any woman, of course, under the same circumstances; but there was something else that impelled him to watch over the movements of this vailed woman —some intuition that he was about to make an important discovery. s he rounded the corner of the theater at Ninth and Walnut, the woman was some dis- tance down the street, and walking rapidly. Reaching Washington Square, she turned into it, and became seated upon one of the benches. He also entered the grounds, and took a seat a short distance away from her, and drawing a paper, Beak pretended to read by the light of the gas lamp above him, Her movements upon the settee showed that she was nervous and excited, and she several times buried her face momentarily in her hands. ‘* She is either off her mental base, or else she wants to get rid of herself, and don’t know whether to try it or not.” At first the detective was scat ra to go for- ward and inquire as to the cause of her apparent distress, but a second thought warned him not to. She would most likely repulse him, or else be frightened, and he would find it a Harder matter to follow her. So he sat still and waited. The moon came up, and cast its early beams down into the square, at sight of which she ap. peared to give a start. She looked quickly around her; then rising left the square on the Walnut street side, and walking down to Fifth street boarded a car, going north. There happened to be another car close in the rear of this, and Beak took this and the chase continued, without much opportunity thus far for her to be suspicious of pursuit. He could see from the front window of the rear car where and when she got off. At Noble street the car stopped and let her out, and she lost no time in hurrying eastward toward the river. Part of the way, as she neared the river, the lamp-lights were few and far between, and the surroundings of anything but a refined char- acter. Butghe seemed to pay no attention to them, nor to those whom she met and passed, When she at length reached Delaware ave- nue, she halted and looked up and down the street. Business generally is suspended on this thor- oughfare at an early hour of the evening, and being in the wholesale quarter, the close of busi- ness leaves the street deserted, with the excep- tion of the river-front police, and now and then some belated or straggling pedestrian. The policeman was moving away toward the other end of his beat, when the woman reached the avenue, across which, and before her, on the river front, was Noble street wharf, a place of no little notoriety of late years, on account of the numerous suicides that have been commit- ted there by drowning. A private watchman peperely does duty along the wharves of the neighborhood, but even he was nowhere to be seen just then. So the woman glided across the street and out upon the wharf, which was empty of freight- age, with the exception of a couple ef empty fruit-crates, _ Carrying’ one of these to the front of the Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. wharf, the woman sat down upon it and gazed steadily into the dark, flowing waters, they ap- pearing to have a strange fascination for her. Even the blowing of the whistles and clangin of the bells of the ferryboats, that moved to an fro across the river, appeared not to attract her attention. ‘* How cold and pitiless the waters look!” she said aloud after a few moments. ‘As they lap against the wharf, they seem to laugh at my misery. Oh, God! why was I ever born, to en- dure this torture? This cruel, cruel letter—oh! I cannot live and know he loves another!” She clinched in her grasp a crumpled letter, as if she were nfraid it would esca er; then, by sudden impulse, and with a reckless laugh, she attempted to throw it into the river. The wind caught it up and blew it back over her shoulder, however, a fact that she appeared entirely unmindful of. **'Yes; he does love another, for he wrote me so,,and stated his surprise that I had any affec- tion for him more than passing friendship. He appears even to forget—but, my God! perhaps he even does not suspect the truth, does not know that I have a claim upon him, stronger than any one else would have! I have never seen him, since that night—he may not know that a—a certificate was handed me. Oh! Heaven, and that too is destroyed—lost—lost— and [am powerless to save him—powerless to prevent a re crime! Oh! I cannot—I can- not endure it. will end my miserable life at once, and may God in his mercy forgive me!” She arose with a wailing cry, and no doubt would have plunged into the river, but a firm grasp seized her shoulder, and wheeled her part- ly around. ‘* Stop, madam!” the stern voice of Jim Beak ordered. ‘‘No more suicides from this wharf, when I’m about.” She trembled violently, and tried to free her- self, but there was no breaking from Beak’s grasp. ‘* Let me go—oh! let me go!” she pleaded faintly. ‘‘Oh! sir, I do not want to live any longer, so let me go—please let me go, sir!” ** Tl do nothing of the kind, and if you don’t see down and act sensible, I’ll walk you off to the station-house,” ; **Oh! no—no! do not do that, T beg of you.” ‘Then come along with me, and as we go, tell me what is your name, and what is your trou- ble. Tam a detective, and perhaps I can help ou.’ ‘** A detective? Oh! you were not sent by—by my father I hope?” ‘*No! I followed you simply because you were bent on taking your life. Tell me your name,” **Oh! no; 1 cannot go home again, and if I cannot die, I must never use my own name again, for they would find me—the officers—and take me home.” ** And why can you not go home?” ‘*T wouldn’t dare, sir. Father is very stern, and he would scold me terribly.” ‘*TIndeed, he ought! You were very foolish in attempting to take your own life, my dear lady. But, | overheard what you said, while on the wharf, and know you have some great trouble. We will g° to a public square, sitdown, and you must make me bee confidant of every particu- lar, and I will do all in my power to prove my- self your friend; for you are young and beauti- ful, and I believe I can tell you your name,” ‘*Indeed, sir, you are very kind; but how should you be able to guess my name?” ‘* Because the letter you threw away, floated back into my hands. ou are Hazel Hurst.” “Yes, but oh! sir, you will not betray me, I beg and pray of a ‘Indeed no! e will go to the square, and ou can tell me al] your trouble, and depend on it I will be your friend. I know your father, and his daughter shall not find me less than a friend, Come.” “No! no! Not to a public square. I might be seen and recognized, there.” ‘*Then, to my office, where you can go with perfect propriety, and without hesitation.” ‘*Then, there, if anywhere. I must unburden my mind, or I shall go crazy!” So, they set out at once, for Beak’s office, go- ing the greater part of the way by street car. n less than an hour’s time they were seated in the detective’s apartment, with a table between, and Beak with his pencil and pad in hand, ready for jotting down Hazel’s story. + tow do you come to know my father, sir?” Hazel asked, when he had signified his readiness to hear her. ‘* He called upon me this afternoon, to engage | my services.” ‘*Ha!—to hunt up an important document, which he claimed had been sfolen from him?” ‘Yes. Do you know what it was?” ‘““No. He merely said it was an important document. But go on with your story. We will talk about the document afterward. What put the notion of suicide into your head?” ““T was wild with despair, and grief,” Miss Hurst said, raising her vail, and revealing her face,.“‘ and did not care to live. But you will not understand, until I tell you all. “At a social gathering, some months ago, I met a young gentleman of prepossessing appear- ance, named Terrol Taylor, and he was so courteous to me that he won my love, then and there, and through my invitation, we met at parties frequently thereafter, and I grew to worship him, and was blind enough to believe that my girlish affection was reciprocated. I never invited him home, for he had told me he was poor, and I knew my haughty father would pry into his affairs, and then forbid me to see im, So we met only at social gatherings, and I loved him as I can never love another man. ‘Finally, one night we were at a champagne party, and there were games, and such things, when it was — proposed to have a mock mar- riage. Every one hailed the idea with delight,and I was selected as the bride-elect, and a number of the company coaxed Terrol to act as the groom. I do not think any one in the room had any idea that it was more than a farce—I know I did not. So a gentleman, a stranger to me, married us, and we were laughingly congratulated. ‘* Later in the evening, Terrol received a tele- gram summoning him away, and I have never seen him since. After he had gone, the gentle- man who had married us, appeared and handed me a Peper, rote“ ‘** There, Mrs. Taylor, is your certificate, and allow me to wish you much joy.’ ‘*T took it, laughingly, never suspecting it was legal, until my father came, later in the even- ing. Heheard of the marriage, and coming to me, said we would go home, at once. I then be- gan to suspect the truth, and was not sorry— no! I was happy to believe it was true that Yer- rol Taylor was really my husband. ¢ ‘When we arrived home, father told me the marriage was valid, and I was the wife of a pauper, and oh! sir, he went on at a fearful rate. e told me he had pledged me to a maml detest, one Gilbert Guion. He, then, forced me to give up the certificate, and afterward told me he had burned it. I told him I would never give up my husband, but he swore if I didn’t and didn’t marry Gilbert Guion, I would end my days in an insane asylum. Oh! he is a terrible man, even though he is my father. I have not been perinitted to step out of doors since then, until this afternoon, when I escaped. “A few days ago, I wrote to Terrol, that if he had any love for me at all, he would give some exhibition of it, by calling to see me. In reply—oh! God, he wrote back that he did not love me, and was surprised that I should suppose he did, as he had never given me any cause to; that bis acquaintance had simply been of friendship, and, in conclusion, said he loved and soon hoped to wed a girl of an humble sta- tion in life. Oh! sir, that letter nearly killed me, for I loved him so, and all the world looked cold and cheerless to me, and I resolved to put an end to my unhappiness, by drowning. ‘¢ Terrol said plainly enough in the letter, that he loved another instead of me, and yet, as long as I lived, he could not legally, or honorably marry her. So, that he may be happy—he whom I love much better than life itself, I was willing to commit suicide. Oh! sir, you were cruel to interfere, when I was prepared.” And burying her face in her hands, Hazel Hurst wept, bitterly. Jim Beak, detective, not accustomed to such scenes as this, felt rather unncrved. “Pray, do not cry, Miss Hurst,” he said, ently. ‘‘Be calm, and let us see what we can o in this most unfortunate case. Taylor is not already married to this girl?” **Oh! sir, I do not know—I do not. All that E know is that he is mine, and I love him, and cannot live to endure the thought that he is the husband of another,” she sobbed. ‘* Well, Pll see Taylor and knock this matter in the head. If he is your husband, and the cer- tificate can be found, ’ll guarantee he will not marry girl number two, quite yet!” Ss é the certificate can be found?” Hazel gasp- ed. * Why—” “Tisten. Your father never destroyed the certificate, but kept it locked in his private sec- Tre . Mt Thank God!” *“‘ According to his statement, the certificate
Page 7
was stolen, and he offers me five thousand dol- lars to recover it. Although it is a delicate job I shall undertake it. If I get the certificate, I shall think long thoughts before I let it go out of my hands.” ‘Oh! God bless you, sir! You can never know what hope and relief your words give me, If fa- ther was to get hold of the certificate again, he would surely destroy it.” ‘‘T know he would. But does he know that even then, he could not break the validity of your marriage, providing it is valid?” “Oh! it is valid, sir. I haven’t a doubt about that. The man who married us is a reg- ularly ordained minister of the gospel, it ap- ” ‘But, if so, what was he doing at the cham- pagne party?” ; é ‘*He was on a visit toa friend in the house, who got him to perform the ceremony without knowing that he had been recently ordained.” ‘¢ This is a bad piece of business, all around,” Beak said, with a dubious shake of his head. What is the minister’s name?” “‘ Reverend Timothy Binks,” “Where did. this ceremony take place?” “ No. —— Montgomery avenue!” ‘1s Binks still there?” ‘Papa told me he had left, and no one knew of his whereabouts.” ‘‘ Where does Terrol Taylor live?” “He boards at No. —— Oxford street.” ** And, now, about this Guion—who is he?” ‘He is an old bachelor, and reputed to be very wealthy. He has a room at father’s house.” ; * You do not like him?” “JT detest him, sir! He is at heart a villain. He would marry me to-day, knowing it to be bigamy, were I to countenance his suit.” ‘And would your father wink at such a mar- riage as that ?” ‘* Not unless forced to, sir.” ** Ah! then there is force in the matter, eh?’ “Yes, Gilbert Guion holds some mysterious wer over my father, concerning something hat is of the past, by exercising which he can bend my father to his will. y father is a strong-willed man, but his will is weak and use- less when Guion is about, and he would do any- thing rather than incur Guion’s wrath. You may know that, when he swore he would have me shut up in an insane asylum if I refused to marry Guion, as soon as he procured a di- vorce!” ( ‘Ah! a divorce?” a4: 5G ‘‘T took it from what he said to me that your marriage must be kept quiet. He could not well get a divorce without publicity.” “You are wrong there. My father has a great deal of money, and he told me he could buy a divorce without the least publicity. As for Ter- rol, he said he could buy him off and send him to the Antipodes.” ‘‘ And in case you were free would you marry Guion?” “Never! As I told you, there is but one man on earth I love, and he is my husband. If I could have him I would ask ‘for nothing else.” ‘‘ Well, we will see if we can’t arrange mat- ters. Do you think Taylor knows that you are really legally married? I should think if he did he would hesitate about winning another girl for his wife.” ‘Since you mention it, perhaps it may be so. I know he did not seem to regard it as a mar- riage up to the time he left the party, and unless he Tne learned about it since, he does not know that a marriage-certificate was given me.” ‘Then the chances are large that he does not know that there is any.impediment in his mar- rying this other girl.” ‘Oh! sir, if that should be the case, do not tell him to destroy his happiness. I will bear all in silence, rather than mar his will even sacrifice myself to—death —for his sake.” such a thing as you propose must not be. Tay- lor must know the truth, and then act according to his convictions. I do not think he has the cer- tificate, and so shall have to seek in another di- rection. And now you had better let me see you to the vicinity of your home, and, above all, give up all thought of suicide,” “No! no! I will not go home. Father would accuse me of being out to see Terrol, and -would raise a terrible fuss. No, I have money of my own which I brought with me, and I will seek some small respectable hotel for the present, and Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. 7 ce friend, sir, for I have no one else to look to in this hour of trouble.” ‘““¥You can rest assured of my friendship,” Beak, answered warmly ; ‘‘ and perhaps your plan of remaining away from home for a time, until matters are cleared up, is best. I shall give m time and attention to this case in your behalf, and if Guion turns out the villain you believe him, I will try to unmask him, and throw off this power he holds over haga father.” R 3 dni you are so very kind. And you will let no one know where lam? I know of a quiet boarding hotel that will just suit me. If you will take me there—” ‘‘ With pleasure. I shall then be able to com- municate with you when necessary.” “Yes. And now you must not do so much for me all for nothing. Here are ahundred dol- lars. Take the money, and when you need more you shall have it.” ‘*But, Miss Hurst—” ‘*Tt’s allright. Ihave more than that. My pin-money in past years I have been quite sav- ing of, as papa was indulgent to me, and when I came to count it up to-day I found it amounted to a considerable sum, So, make no hesitation of taking that, and ask for more when you need +4 9? **T will accept it, Miss Hurst, on the condition to do all in my power to clear away the clouds that hover over your life. I hope to see you your happy self once more.” ‘‘T fear that can never be, for my life is blighted, and even though Terrol does not mar- ry the other girl, I could not ask him to live with me, when he said in his letter he did not love me. Oh, God! why was I ever born?” And she buried her face in her handkerchief, once more weeping piteously. ‘* There, there, do not cry, dear lady. Per- haps it’s all for the best,” Beak said, going around to her and laying his hand upon her shoulder. ‘‘ Perhaps you will yet meet some one you will love better. And now, come, please! Let me accompany you to the hotel.” With an effort she dried her tears and arose, and they left the office. A man stood upon the curbstone as they did so, and was gazing straight at them. At sight of him, Hazel uttered a little cry of horror, and clutched Beak’s arm for support. ‘* Merciful Heaven! Jt is Gilbert Guion !” she gasped. CHAPTER VI. BOTTS, ‘‘ Yr may kick me fer a cat ef I wouldn’t like ter have had Jamesy Beak "long wi’ me to heerd thet luv-makin’,” soliloquized the Spider, as he dogged the footsteps of Carrol Carter and Myra out of the park. ‘‘Jim he’s kinder of a skeptic ’bout women folks an’ love matters, an’ et would do me good ter see sum gal git him in love so bad he couldn’t wiggle his right ear any more an’ say women were ‘N, G.,’ “7 don’t think so, TP jest go a quid o’ per- lice plug ag’in’ a organ-grinder’s monkey thet my gal Botts will make a boss wife. An’ ef she don’t git stuck on some other better-lukin’ fel- ler’n I, ther chances are big we'll git spliced one 0’ these days, when Botts outgrows her habit o’ riley bare-footed. S pose, in fact, I an’ otts orter git married now, so I could help her support her sick mother. Kinder funny, never see’d the old lacy but once sence I know’d Botts, an’ then she was pale and thin, and looked purty sick. She looked, too, as if she had seen better days. Botts never tells me nothin’ ’bout their past, either. One thing is sure: soon’s I’m through wi’ this racket, | must go an’ give Botts another course 0’ lessons in love-makin’, or she will fergit all I ever did tell her, a-settin’ on McKinney’s cellar-door,” Carrol and Myra left the park and immedi- ately sought the nearest magistrate’s office, which was not many blocks distant, Spider was close at hand when they entered, and, by peering in, had the satisfaction of see- ing the ceremony performed, although he could not catch the words that were uttered. Finally, armed with their certificate, they left the office and started for Myra’s home. Spider did not follow them, ‘““They’re married,” he said, ‘‘ and ’tain’t no use 0’ my doggin’ ’em any more. Let’em go, an’ I’ll shindy down to Middle Alley an’ see f I kin ketch Bottsy up.” Most Philadelphians know where Middle Al ley is, or have heard of it, and those who have not need not want to, for it is by no means the But, to pe Middle Alley had all the at- tractions of Broadway, simply because ‘his girl Botts” lived in one of the humble habita- tions that flanked either side of the alley. The house that she lived in was not a tene- ment, like the others, but was a narrow, story- and-a half structure, containing three rooms, which the Botts family occupied all by them- selves. When Spider arrived at this house, he found ‘his girl” seated on the doorstep much to his joy. The alley swarmed. with people of rough and ugly types, and various nationalities, but Botts, as she was generally known, was an American, and quite attractive looking. She was sixteen years of age, had a round, intelligent face, sparkling brown eyes, and a wealth of hair of like color, which fell in glossy waves over her shoulders. She wore a pretty chintz dress, and notwith- standing Spider’s previous allusions to the con- trary, wore a pair of brand new kid shoes, which peeped out from under her dress. The young detective paused, and surveyed her from top to toe, in pure astonishment, and then ruefully contemplated his own shabby at- tire. ‘Well, Pll be kicked fer a cat!” he ejaculated. ‘““What on earth has happened? Have you struck a fortune, or hev you been tryin’ yer hand at a fire in a shoe store?” ‘* Neither,” was the airy reply of Miss Botts. ‘* Why?—do you see anything green in my eye, Spider?” ‘* No, but I see suthin’ black on your feet, that looks mighty out 0’ place there. Where'd yer strike the shoes, an’ the togs? I didn’t see no signs o’ a fire, when I cum down.” ‘Oh! dry up! Come and sit down here, be- side me, and I’ll tell you.” ‘What! me sit down ‘longside o’ them togs? Nixee!” “Oh! come along! This is nothing but a cheap dress, I intend to wear satin and velvet, before long. But come, or I won't ever speak to you—there, now!” * Oh! Tll come!” Spider said, yielding to the persuasion, ‘but ’pears like Iwas in an at- mosphere 0’ heving. Say, come, now, tell us all about it.” ‘“Of course I will. Don’t I tell you every- thing, Spider? Well, you see I’ve got a job— struck a bonanza”, ‘‘ A job?—a bonanza? What ye drivin’ at?” “Tain’t goin’ to take in washin? any more, for a living. I’ve got an engagement to go nurse a real old man, in a big grand house, with handsome carpets and furniture, what ain’t go- ing to live very long.” ““Which—the furniture and carpets, or the old man?” ‘“Why, the old man, of course! Oh! he’s awful old, and he’s awful rich, and I’m to have sole charge of the house, except an old negress, who does the cooking. Ob! won’t I have it grand, though?” ‘Spect you will. mother?” “Oh! she is feeling a good bit stronger, and as we shall have plenty of money, she can have her meals brought from the restaurant on the corner, and Mrs, McGraw will keep the house clean. Then too. I can come home, twice a week, Just think of it, only—fifty dollars a week !” Spider burst into a roar of laughter. “Come, now, cheese that! ot yer givin’ us, Isay? D’ye think I’m a reg'lar slow that calls horseshoes epaulettes?” ‘*T know you ain’t, Spider, but ’m telling you the truth, Tifty dollars a week, and Ive got the first week’s pay, in advance. I’m tellin’ you the solid truth as sure as my name ain’t Rip Van Winkle.” ‘*T hope you are, Botts, but it kinder looks to me as ef you aire drawin’ it purty strong. What old snoozer would be green enough ter pay so much when one kin git dead loads o’ gals fer three dollars? But say, how’d you come ter strike et?” : ‘Well, you see, there’s a gentleman that used to know mother some years ago, and he hunted us up, and to help us along offered me the posi- tion. The old man whom I am going to nurse is his grandfather, and is expected to die prett soon of old age, and needs some one to wate over him, As the grandson cannot, be with him all the time, he is willing to pay well for a nurse, an’ so help us along, as he’s well able te But, how about your A register under an assumed name. I will never go | grandest thoroughfare in the city. “What's the grandson’s name?” home until father promises to cut loose from that Indeed, vice and squalor are here, true and Gilbert Guion.” villain Gilbert Guion, And I want you to bemy ' tried partners. ‘* And the old man’s name?” ey ; oe
Page 8
‘* Christopher Guion.” ** Where does he live?” ** Number —— on C street, West Phil- adelphia. Oh! it’s a nice place, Mr. Gilbert says, and T'll like it ever so much, Just think of it! we will be rich in a short time!” ** 'Y-a-s,” drawled Spider—“ that is, if the old man don’t shuffle off within a couple of hundred years, I wish his nibs, Gilbert Guion, bad left you alone and got some other girl, dash him!” **Oh! why, Spider?” “Cause l’ll have to go hunt up some other mash.” Botts laughed merrily. Oh! no you won't, Spider. You must come out to where I live to see me—why, of course hy must. And I'll receive you in the best par- or, and—oh! it will be so nice! It will seem just like I was some grand lady, don’t you See?" * And Tll bea grand gentleman, I suppose?” looking down scornfully at his ragged trow- sers. ‘“Why, of course!” **Then, one thing’s settled—I’ve got to tackle some misfit store, and git togged up better’n I am now. Me an’ Beak is onter another case, an’ mebbe we'll make a boodle out o’ that. But, lookee here! you won’t git stuck up an’ go ter mashin’ onter other fellers, will ye?’ ‘* Not a bit of it! You and I are steady com- any, ain’t we, an’ what do I want of another eller?” **That’s so, Well, take care o’ yerself, an’ don’t fall in love with the old man. Soonas I kin rake up some better togs T’ll come out an’ see you.” And giving the willing girl a parting kiss, Spider took his departure. The hour was not yet very late, and some- thing impelled him to walk down to Jim Beak’s office and see if the detective was not about, for he was not in the habit of leaving his office usu- ally until near midnight. So he jogged along, whistling as he went, and little expecting what sort of a scene he was des- tined soon to run upon, That portion of Spruce street where Beak’s office was located was built up of imposing rows of dwellings, and after nine o’clock at night the staid Quaker residents were for the most part in bed and asleep, and the street deserted, except for an occasional car or some straggling pedes- trian. Beak’s office was near the corner of a trans- verse street, and was the only ‘‘one-horse” edi- fice in the neighborhood. As, ona proaching the office, Spider rounded the corner, his gaze beheld a scene that caysed him to utter an exclamation of surprise, Two men had clinched in a struggle, and were waltzing about the sidewalk at a lively rate. Near at hand stood a woman dressed in black, whose hands were clasped, and who was evident- ly greatly distressed. i did not take Spider more than a minute to learn that one of the men was his pard, Jim Beak; he also recognized the woman as the one who had accosted him earlier in the day. ‘‘ Hillo! here’s a go!” he soliloquized. *“‘ Wonder who the chap is what Beak is wres- tling with? They’re purty near mated, but I guess I had better part’em afore a cop comes along and waltzes ’em off to the station-house,” and darting forward, and ducking his head, the gamin managed to work himself between the contestants’ legs. The result was that they tripped, and all went tumbling to the pavement in a heap, the clinch being broken. Gilbert Guion was the first to regain his feet, and witkout uttering a word, he took to his heels and disappeared from view around the corner. When Beak and Spider more deliberately arose, Guion had made good his exit. ‘Well, I'll be kicked fer a cat ef the feller ain’t slid!” Spider ejaculated. ‘‘ Golly, what.a eoward! He ain’t got no more sand nor a pink- eyed pertater. Who is he, a Al “Tt don’t matter just now,” k replied, grimly. ‘Ill fix him one of these days. Have you got any news of importance, boy?” * Bet I have—dead loads of it!” ‘‘Then wait here until I conduct this young lady to a place of safety. I won’t be long.” And Beak and Nazel Hurst walked rapidly away. ee Hit my heyes!” mused Spider. ‘‘ Beaky must o’ saved the gal from committin’ suicide. An’ [ll bet he gits stuck on her, fer all he don’t are ad f . Wonder who she is, any- Ww Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. But he was destined to be left to wonder until the detective’s return. Let us follow the latter and his fair charge. ‘*Oh! sir, this is most unfortunate that Gil- bert Guion should find me with you!” Hazel said, as they hurried along. ‘ He will tell my father, and then—oh! dear, there’s no knowing what will happen!” “Tt is rather unfortunate, as you say, Miss Hurst, but the rascal found he could not take you away from me, and I fancy he will fight shy of me in the future, as he is evidently an arrant coward.” ‘** But will he not find me?” “T think not. At the hotel where we are go- ing you will be safe under an assumed name unless you expose your face upon the street. I will watch well to-your interests, and warn you in case of danger.” ‘You are very kind, sir. How can I ever hope to repay you?” ‘*You can repay me by letting me manage this unfortunate affair until I can bring about some good result, which I think I can,” They reached the quiet boarding hotel in good time and accommodations were secured for eo she registering under the name of Amy Alden. Beak then bade her good-by, and hurried back to his office, where he found Spider waiting for him on the doorstep. They entered the room, locked the door after them, lit the gas and then became seated, with the table between them. ‘* Now, boy,” Beak said, lighting a cigar, ‘‘I find that I shall want to use you, and I suppose I can put the same dependence in you that I have been able to do several times in the past.” ‘*Reckon ye kin tie to me like a hoss to a fire- engine! Yer orter know what sort 0’ a chap I am by now,” ‘*You have always panned out well, and I hope you always will. Now, listen, and I will Bay you a distinct outline of the case I have in mand, Pay strict attention, and commit to memory what I tell you, for you may need to remember it as our case progresses,” Beak then related all about Harrington Hurst’s business with him; also what he had learned from Hazel Hurst, and all else thus far that he knew himself. Spider listened attentively, his dirty face at times manifesting no little surprise, and he was evidently eager to have his partner finish. ** And, now, you see,” Beak said, in conclu- sion, ‘‘ita peers that Terrol Taylor is really the husband o azel Hurst, and yet, according to his own letter, he does not love her, but pro- poses to marry another girl. This must be pis ya ** Tt is too late, boss!” ‘* What?” “Too late, jest as I tell you. The fellar’s gone and did it, and did et up brown, too. J see’d et done!” ‘‘Good Heaven! Go on and explain!” Beak ordered, excitedly. ‘If this be true, things are indeed in a pretty mess!” ‘“ Well, you see,” Spider proceeded, “ after you went off on a chase after the woman, Tay- lor, he come along, picked his teeth a while at ther Continental door, an’ then took a walk ’way up-town. I managed to foller him, tho’, an’ atlast he squatted down on a doorstep, in a narrow Berean alongside a pretty gal.” “Yas, They ’peared like they were pritty fond of each other, an’ finally the gal put on her hat, an’ they come out o’ the street, an’ I_heerd ’em mention "bout goin’ to Lemon Hill. So you bet I slid out lively, and got thar ahead of ’em, an’ got right under ther very seat they sot down on. ‘Go on!” excitedly. Well, they hadn’t sot there long before the began makin’ love, an’ thar I lay, takin’ et all in. Oh! I tell you, it was sweet—reg’lar old eller-jack candy sweet, an’ don’t yer fergit et. f roe just ’a’ been there, you’d not live old bachelor life another week. Finally, Taylor he axed her ef she would have him, an’ they struck up a bargain, the conditions bein’ that he should marry her to-night, while there was a f’ust-class moon,” “Indeed! Did the young woman maket his proposition?” ‘Yes. She made ther prop, an’ he tuck et up, and they started at once for the magistrate’s office. I follered ’em, and ked thru the win- dy, an’ see’d the knot tied; then I let ’em go, while I slid down inter Middle Alley to see my gal, Botts. By ther way, Botts has struck et rich—awful!” ** She has?” oo" ‘“Yes. She’s got a job o’ nussin’ an old cove, for fifty dollars a week, up in West Phila.” ‘* Nonsense !”” “But I say she has. She’s even got her first week’s wages in advance.” ‘*Indeed! How did she come to strike such a position as that? Why, professional and expe- rienced nurses don’t often get that much!” ‘*Can’t help that. Bottsy has got the persi- tion. Some guy as knows Mrs. Botts got it fer her. He was the old man’s grandson, | believe. Say, come ter think, his name is same as that you mentioned—Gilbert Guion,” ‘Gilbert Guion? Can it be possible?” “Yes; you bet that’s jest ther size of et, Jamesy. ‘Ther chap. you was wrastlin’ with is ther very chump w'ot’s ter give Bottsy fifty a week fer nussin’ his granddaddy.” “There is something queer about this—quite a coincidence that his name should come to me so suddenly, twice in twenty-four hours,” Beak said, thoughtfnlly. ‘‘Miss Hurst pronounces him a villain, iced Bike no doubt but what he is, since he tried to get her away from me by at- tempting to knock me down. I shall have toin- vestigate his case, for it occurs to me that he is about the only person who may have the stolen certificate,” “Like enough. I shall tell my gal Botts about him,” ‘¢ Tell her nothing, except that I said for her to make it her business to overhear all she acme can of what passes between the grandfather and grandson.” ““T see! make her a kind of a detective, too?” ** Exactly.” “Pll do et, an’ you bet Bottsy will do almost anything for me. But, how about this feller, Taylor?” eak’s brows became knitted in a look of perplexity. ‘*T hardly know what to do, or what to think about the matter,” he said. ‘‘ In marrying this second girl, Taylor has certainly committed bigamy. Perhaps he has done so, in ignorance that his other marriage was valid, and it would seem a shame to make him and his new bride unhappy, by breaking the bad news to them, Yet, something must be done, and I shall try to see him, to-morrow.” And, what shall I do?” ‘““ Why, you will hold yourself in readiness at a moment’s notice, Be here, early, to-morrow, and I may have other orders to give you.” And Jim Beak and his little pal parted for the night. CHAPTER VII. GUION SHOWS HIS TEETH. As the reader has no doubt inferred, the Mr. Gilbert who made the remarkable offer, to Myra Morton, as narrated in a previous chap- - ter, and the Gilbert Guion whom we have since alluded to, were one and the same person, When he left the vicinity of his struggle with Detective Jim Beak, he lost no time in making his way to the Bread street railway station. There he took a coupe, and after giving a few directions, was driven rapidly to the residence of Harrington Hurst, on Germantown avenue. It was a handsome brick house, with marble trimmed front, and steps, and inside blinds; but no lights were visible from the front part of the residence, when Guion got out of the coupe. Paying the driver, he entered the house, by the aid of a rage Once within the hall, he found it lighted, as was the elegantly furnished parlor, in which Mr. Hurst was seated at his secretary, engaged in ow . ‘‘May I come in?’ Guion asked, pausing at the threshold, hat in hand.” ‘Yes, come in, and have a chair,” the ex- speculator replied, rather gruffly. ‘‘I am not particularly occupied. Any news, down-town?” * ‘None in particular,” Guion replied, as he helped himself to an easy-chair, ‘“‘except I hear a rumor that there will be a run on the-——— Bank, to-morrow.” Hurst shrugged his shoulders, and gave vent toa A Sears ; ‘Thank goodness no bank’s failure, will af- fect me,” he said, with a glance at a large safe, near at hand. ‘¢ T’ve closed up all my banking business, and got my money where no one will handle it but myself.” “* And a goodly pile, Idare say, you have of it. However, what is money? It cannot always buy happiness, nor can it buy off a haunting phantom, nor return a life!” “ Bnough of that!—enough of it, I say!” Hurst cried, stamping the floor, and growing red in
Page 9
. Ps A the face. ‘“‘If you have come here for that you can leave.” ‘*T shall undoubtedly choose my time about doing that,” was the cool retort. ‘‘ There’s no use of your getting mad at me, Harrington, for ou know you'll have to cool right down again. Where is Hazel?” ‘In her room, I suppose.” ‘You only suppose, then? that she is there?” ‘* OF course, she is there.” ‘* Of course she is not there!” ‘What are you talking about? was not in her room?” “Tsay so. Isaw her less than half an hour ago, on Spruce street, just emerging from an ofl 6, In company with a man!” “You are an accursed liar!” Hurst cried, springing to his feet, furious withrage., ‘‘ What do you mean, sir?” ‘Sit down!” Guion ordered, sternly. ‘‘ What Tam telling is true. If you de not believe it, ascertain if she is in her room or not. [ am well satisfied that she is not.” The speculator touched an electric button in the wall, near his desk, and in a few minutes the housekeeper entered the room. ‘“‘Ts my daughter in her room?” Harrington Hurst demanded, sternly. “‘T believe she is, sir. She complained of a headache, this afternoon, and directed that she should not be disturbed, unless she rung.” Ah! go to her room, at once, and see if she is there.’ The ir, aa departed, but soon returned, looking decidedly alarmed, for she had been or- dered to see that Hazel did not escape from the house, “T rapped, sir, but got no answer,” she an- nounced,‘ The door is locked, too.” A quiet laugh broke from Guion’s lips, as, with a furious curse, Hurst arose, and hastened from the room, followed by the housekeeper, “The old man will go wild, now, and tear his hair,” Guion soliloquized, puffing away at his cigar. ‘ But, what care I? The time is pretty near for me to force matters, and if I can’t win my pee one way,I can another. Win I cer- tainly shall, and so, after all, my planning has not been for nothing.” Hurst soon returned to the parlor in high dudgeon. ‘She is gone, sure enough,” he declared. “Quick! tell me where you saw her.” **On Spruce, as I said.” ** Whereabouts on Spruce street?” “Coming out of the shop of the man you visited this afternoon—Jim Beak, the detective.” “Ha! what can have taken her there? Who was with her?” ‘*Beas, himself. I first saw them coming from the direction of the river, and followed them. They went to Beak’s office, and were closeted for some time, I awaiting on the out- side. After awhile they came out, and I de- manded of Beak that he deliver Miss Hazel to my custody, when he pitched onto me and we had a tussle. I finally broke away—and here I ” ** Fool! Why did you not follow them?” ‘* Because I was not armed.” At this juncture the housekeeper entered. “Tf you please, sir, here is a note I found in the young lady’s room, sir,” and she handed it to the ex-speculator. A snarl of anger and disgust burst from him as he glanced it over’ then he read aloud, as follows: “Dear FATHER:— ‘“t have grown heartily tired and sick of being shut up in the house, It is an unendurable persecu- tion. You know ! love my husband, and I have told you [ would never! never! marry Gilbert Guion. I despise and loathe him. I am going out now, and perhaps shall put an end to all this trouble by drowning myself in uhe Delaware. At all events, I shall never retucen to the shelter of your roof until you cast out that viper, Gilbert Guion, whose only desire to marry me arises from the hope that he muy be able to get hold of a part or the whole of our fortune. I have adaugh'er’s affection for you, ut the viper is forcing you: to act beyond the bounds of your authority, and make me the victim of his sritcoslens. I will not submit, so escape, now, ere it is too late. Hazuu.,”’ ‘ Curse her!” Guion gritted, under his breath, **T cculd kill her for writing that.” Aloud, he said: , “A very pretty letter to come from one as refined and intelligent as your daughter. I wil] leave it to you if it is not, friend Hurst?” ** Confound it, man, I can’t blame her. She don’t like you an better than I do.” : ‘*Maybe not. But that shall make no differ- ence. The fact is, Hurst, I’m heartily tired and Do you not know Who said she Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detec tives. sick of this dilly-dallying, and have made up my mind not to stand any more of it. That girl must be found, and must marry me inside of three days, or you will give the sheriff another job.” ‘*Curse you! curse you, inhuman wretch that you are! You well know that I am no more guilty of such a crime than a new-born babe, Curse you, I say! You would drive me'to sac- rifice my daughter to screen an act I never did. Oh, you devil! Your time will come to pay up for this blackmail—this infernal, damnable blackmail!” “You mean your time will come mighty a unless you behave yourself. Supposing that Jim Beak, the detective, were to know that you foully murdered your wife—” With a cry of fury Hurst leaped toward his accuser, as if he would annihilate him. But Guion slipped out of his chair and eluded him, ‘**Curse you, will you shut up?” Hurst gasped. ‘How do you know but what some one over- heard your words?” “Bah! what of it? The whole matter is bound to come out es pete if you refuse to sie to my terms, and that, too, without de- ay. ‘*T have not refused to come to your terms; but God in Heaven knows I am not guilty. Why, then, does He permit this human fiend to persecute me?” and throwing himself upon a sofa, the man of riches buried his face in his hands and shook with emotion, that appeared to be genuine. **Come, come, no more of that!” Guion said, fiercely. ‘It won’t work, "Yowre not theman to make a baby of yourself: You know I hold the proofs against you, and am not a man to trifle with; so be sensible. DoasI have order- ed, and all will be well,” ‘But, how\can I marry you to my daughter, man, when she will not consent?” ‘* Make her consent!” ** T cannot.” ‘YYou can. You have never been explicit enough. Do you suppose if she knew your life depended uponit, she would refuse?: No! no! Give her credit for more sense than that!” * But it would be no marriage. It would be bigamy, to which you would both be knowing parties.” *‘ Nonsense! Within three days I will be pre- pared to furnish proofs that Terrol Taylor is dead; and your daughter free to contract a legal marriage.’ “Bah!” ; ‘¢- You do not believe it?” ‘¢ No, of course I don’t!” ‘* Nevertheless it will be as I have said. The roofs will be ample. So now all we have to do is to find Hazel, and you force from her a prom- ise to wed me when I prove that Taylor is dead. Once she promises, she will not go back on her word.” “No, You are right, stanch as adamant, is?” ‘Beak knows. Hunt him up in the morning and make him tell you, or arrest him for abduc- tion. Ihave no doubt but what it will be an easy matter to find the girl.” Hazel’s word is as But where do you think she CHAPTER VIII. THE PERPLEXED DETECTIVE. Wuen Detective Jim Beak arrived at his office the next morning, he was not a little annoyed to find that Spider had not yet put in an appearance. } tnateall he found a slip of paner, in the hand- writing of the young gamin, which read thus: * DEAR JAMESY:— **Can’t wait fer ye. Got ’portant bizness on hand. You remember old Jake Morgan, the burglar, who got out of prison bout two morthsago? Well, Lhev struck his trail, an’am after him like a dorg after eats. He's up ter some deviltry ag’in, an’ I’m goin’ to find out what it is. Yer know I owe him a grudge fer soakin' me over the head with a billy, So you won’t see yer darlin’ till he has got some news, ** Yours till death, “ SYLVEsTer Sprpen.”’ “ After Morgan, eh?” Beak muttered, as he seated himself at the table. “TI wish he'd let Morgan alone, and attend tomy needs. The old chap hasn’t been bothering any one since he got out of prison last time, and I reckon he will lay low for a while yet, anyhow. Spider will spend his time on a wild-goose chase, ** And now I suppose the next thing before me is tohunt up this Terrol Taylor, and break the news to him that he is a villain and a bigamist. I don’t fancy the job a bit, but I don’t see any i help for it. I pity the poor girl he has made a dupe of more than all,” Spider had given him the directions where Mrs. Morton lived, and he had no doubt but what he would find Terrol Taylor there, It was yet too early, however, to ook him up; so, locking his office, the detective spent several hours in dodging about town and performing a few errands of minor importance. He had no doubt but what Harrington Hurst would visit his office during the morning, and he was not quite prepared to meet the ex-speculator, just yet. During bis walk he passed the hotel where Hazel was stopping, but of course saw nothing of her. Although he had always held forth that he cared very little for the female sex, and distrusted and avoided them, he could not help wondering if he had not taken a decided fancy for the unfertu- nate Miss Hurst. It was after ten c’clock when his stalwart frame darkened the dcorway of Mrs. Morton’s candy store, which he entered, to find Mrs, Morton presiding behind the counter, ** Good morning,” Beak said, hardly knowing how to begin his investigatory conversation. ‘‘ Ahem! is Mr. Taylor in, may I ask?” “Mr, Taylor, sir?’ replied the widow, in surprise, ‘Yes, madam,” “There is no Mr. Taylor here, sir, nor do I know any gentlemun of that name.” “Indeed! Letmesee—no! I cannot be mis- taken. This is the place I was directed to, Why, madam, have you not a daughter called Myra?” ‘Oh! yes, sir.” ‘Ab! And was she not married last night, to a man named Terrol Taylor?” ‘Indeed, no, sir! Myra got married last night, but not to Mr. Taylor. Myra’s husband’s name is Carrol Carter.” Jim Beak gave vent to a prolonged whistle, and his face, usually noperturbable, showed how great was his surprise, ‘** Carrol Carter?” he echced. this is the name, madam?” “Why yes, sir. Carrol Carter is his name— that is, sir, the only name we have ever known him by.” ‘* How long have you known him?” ** About six months, sir.” ‘Where and how did your daughter make his acquaintance” “Tam sure I couldn’t tell you, sir—I s’pose likely she met him coming from work, and pe got acquainted in that way, sir? But, why de har sO many questions—what is the mat- T 4 ‘““The matter is, madam, Iam looking for a man by the name of Terrol Taylor, and had been informed that he was married to your daughter. There may be some mistake, however.” ‘*Oh! there must be, of course. Are you a detective, sir?” am ** Ah! then, that accounts for your question- ing. Carrol is a very nice young man, and it’s a very nice match.” “Ts the gentleman about?” ‘No, sir. They rented a couple of furnished rooms complete for housekeeping, bright and early this morning, and have gone and taken possession of them, Myra had a little money saved up, and they’re to get a thousand dollars to-day, from a gentleman, as a wedding pres- ent,” ** Ah! how is that?” ‘Well, you see, it is somewhat romantic. A gentleman who claims to be an unknown friend of Carrol’s, came here yesterday, and stated that he had heard Carrol and Myra were in love with each other. I told him perhaps they were, Well, when Myra came home, he told her that if she would influence Carrol to marry her, im- mediately, he would make -her a present of one thonesnd Seiave: but Carro! was to know noth- ing about the bargain, He gave as his reason that Carrol had an eccentric uncle, or other rela- tive, who proposed to give the young man a handsome sum of money providing he got mar- ried, at once!” “‘Tndeed. Why, this is by all odds the most remarkable thing I ever heard of. This visitor, then, was commissioned to act as go between,” ‘Vou, sin,” 4g Did your daughter accept this strange pro- “You are sure “No, sir, she did not! She said she would have to think it over, and would leave word with me before she went to work this morning. Last night, however, Carrol came, they took a walk in the park, and—well, Carrol proposed,
Page 10
INTE a FT 10 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. ~ By z rt *, ~ een <a and they were married before tucy got back. I suppose the gentleman will be here with the money for them to-day. Isn’t it romantic, sir?” “Very,” Beak assented, a trifle grimly. ‘‘ What is this go-between’s mame?” “My. Gilbert, sir.” ** Ah! Mr. Gilbert, eh? Can you describe him, ma’am?” **T believe I can, sir. He is quite tall, and of muscular build, He is from thirty-five to thirty- eight years old, rather pale, has jet-black hair and eyes, while his mustache is mixed with gray; and he dresses very stylishly.” ‘Gilbert Guion again, as I live!” the detec- tive mentally commented. ‘‘Good gracious! where is a fellow ever to get at the bottom of this complicated case?” Aloud, he said: ‘‘Well, I guess I must be going. Would you mind telling me where I can find Mr. Carter? I'd just like to have a look at him to convince me that he is not Taylor.” ‘*Certainly. They have rooms, he and Myra, at No. —Catiowhill street. Is there anything bad about this Mr. Taylor, sir?” **Oh! no, not so far as I positively know, as yet,”’ Beak replied, not wishing to needlessly alarm her, He then took his departure. By the time he reached No, — Callowhill street the noon whistles were blowing. Or inquiring for Mr. Carter, the landlady conducted the visitor to the second story and he was ushered into the front room. There were two neatly-furnished communicat- ing rooms, with folding doors, which were now open, revealing the pretty domestic picture of yra Carter engaged in preparing the first meal in their new home. Carrol came into the front room, his face flushed and pleasant, for he had been assisting Myra to set the table. ‘Mr. Carter, I believe?” Beak said, bowing. ‘Yes, sir; and you?” ‘“‘My name is Beak. I have called to see you, sir, on a matter of considerable importance. Can you spare me a few minutes in private? I will make known my business, as we take a turn around the block.” ‘Certainly. But I have no secrets from my wife—why not be seated here, sir?” ‘¢The matter I have in hand is for your ears first.” ‘* Ah! Well, then, I will go with you.” He procured his hat and they descended to the street, “My friend most sorry to be forced to call you away from that pretty home scene up-stairs, to perhaps make you unhappy, but_it is my duty. You were married last night, I believe?” ‘Yes, sir.” ‘Under the name cf Carrol Carter?” “Why, certainly, sir. What other name would I have used but my own?” “That is not your own, young man—or, at any rate, you have borne another one?” ‘That is not true! What do you mean?— who are you, sir, and what do you mean, sa ? ty am Jim. Beak, the detective, and I have called upon you to make you acquainted with the unpleasant fact that you are a bigamist!” “A what ?” Carrol demanded, stopping stock- still, and staring at Beak, in utter astonish- ment. “A bigamist. While having one wife living, you have gone and married another, an inno- cent and trusting girl, and made yourself liable to arrest.” “Tt is false—false as false can be!” Carrol cried, his cheeks flushing with anger. ‘I never courted, miuch less married, any girl but Myra Morton. Detective though you may be, you are sadly off track this time.” ‘‘Oh! come now; that won’t work, I presume of course you realize the unenviable scrape you have gotten yourself into, but it won’t do youa bit of good to make any denials. How long since you dropped the name of Terrol Taylor?” ‘‘T never used such a name, sir, as applyin to myselt—indeed, I don’t think I ever heard o the name.” ‘¢-You were never known as, or called, Terrol Taylor?’ * Positively not, sir. for some other man.” ‘¢ Where have you lived lately?” ‘‘T have taken my meals at restaurants, and You have mistaken me ed at lodging-houses.” Fever at —— Oxford street?” **No, sir.” ‘Or No, —— Montgomery avenue?” ** No, sir.” ————————— ee ———E——eEe—————EE———————————————— ” said Beak, ‘‘ believe me I am | about three months ago. Beak hesitated a moment, bit his lip, and sur- veyed Carter searchingly; but there was no change in the young man’s face. If these straight denials were lies, his manner did not betray it. ‘Did you ever know a girl named Hazel Hurst?” Beak finally went on. *“No, sir, I did not. Myra Morton was the only lady acquaintance I have made within a year. ‘* Did you never see this before now?” and the detective handed him the letter Spider had found. . Carter shook his head, after reading it. **T never saw it before, sir.” “Have you been in the habit of lounging around the vicinity of Ninth and Sansom, much?” ‘‘T have been around there quite frequently, when there were horse sales at the Bazaar.” “Did you ever see any other person around there who looked like you—almost your very counterpart?” **T did not.” ‘* Well, all that I have gotto say, Mr. Carter. is that you are either a most infamous liar and villain, or else a grand mistake has been made?” “Tt surely is a mistake. Will you give me the particulars?—for, naturally, as I am accus- ed, I am much interested.” “Well, in case you are innocent, I should presume you would be. The case is this: A girlnamed Hazel Hurst fell in love with a young man named Terrol Taylor. He was poor—she was rich; therefore he had not access to her home. They, however, met clandestinely, and one night, at a social gathering, were partici- pants in a so-called mock marriage—fools that they were.” “Ah! I think I see. The mock marriage turns out to have been valid.” “Yes, I believe it is generally conceded, in this State, that such a marriage holds good. Besides this, it turns out that the ceremony was performed by a regularly ordained minister, which doubly clinches the matter.” ‘* Well, you can bet high I’m not the man that ot caught!” Carter said, emphatically. ‘I on’t flatter myself that I’m any smarter than the average man, but you can bet all you are worth I'd be a little too smart to put my head into a yoke like that.” “*T don’t know about that. Iam not so sure. You see, this Terrol Taylor has not been seen by his wife since the marriage, which occurred And, I’m still of the opinion that you are Taylor, and have been lying to me most outrageously.” ‘*T swear before God, sir, that I am not Tay- lor!” “Will you swear—can you prove—that your name is Carrol Carter?” The young man hesitated, and changed color. “Well, no,” he finally admitted, ‘‘for it is not. Several years ago the disgrace my father had put upon our name caused me to renounce it, and I adopted that of Carter.” ‘What name did you formely bear?” **T must decline to tell. But rest assured that it is as different from Taylor as A is from Z,” “Well, Tamsorry. ButI am afraid I shall have to arrest you, Mr. Carter.” ‘Oh! for the loye of God, donot, sir! Just think what a terrible blow it would be to my loving wife! I am not Taylor, sir—indeed, Iam not! I beg of you to spare me, and to look further until you do find the realman, Spare me such a disgrace as arrest!” “No doubt about the disgrace of it, and I should feel deucedly sad to inflict it upon your wife, who appeared to be a nice little woman, But, you see, if we detectives allowed ourselves to be tender-hearted in such things, we would never be able to cope with rascality. However, I have a plan I will endeavor to use as a test. Will you go with me into the presence of Miss Hurst, and allow her to pronounce whether you are her husband or not?” ‘*'Yes! yes! only too gladly! Leadon! Iam positive she will tell you you have made a mis- take.” **t hope so, too, but be not too sure, She loves Terrol Taylor too passionately to make any mistakes, and if she says you are the man —then what?” ‘Oh! my God, I do not know! It will be false, and I will be the victim of an awful mis- take—or else, a villainous piece of blackmail- ng. “Pshaw! Women don’t blackmail men that haven’t got enough boodle to make it worth their while—no, indeed! Butcome, I will take you to see Mrs. Terrol Taylor.” And Beak led off. Giving one longing, despairing look back to- ward the house where he had left his young wife so happy, Carrol Carter followed in the detec- tive’s wake. His head was bowed, his face white, and he apie as if in great mental and bodily dis- ress, Poor Carter! He was indeed in an unenviable and trying position. CHAPTER IX. THE SPIDER RUNS HIS WEB. SPIDER had reached Beak’s office that morning about an hour earlier than the detective him- | self, and had posted himself in the doorway to ecogitate over the situation and to study the faces of people passing—one of his pleasantest diversions. He was thus occupied when he saw an old, slouchily-dressed man coming down the street at a shuffling gait. He was at least sixty years of age, and his features were scarred and wrinkled his beard and hair long and liberally sprinkled with gray, his form once large and muscular, and his eye yet remarkably keen and piercing in its glance, is clothes and foot and head covering were of the coarsest and cheapest description, and he looked decidedly like a man who had not recent- ly been on good terms with prosperity. ‘““By gracious!” Spider exclaimed, in an un- dertone. ‘‘ Ye may kick me fer acat ef et ain’t thet old sardine, Jake Morgan, who soaked me over the head with a billy! Oho! Jakie! I’ve got et in fer you, sure’s sugar’s sweet. Wonder where ye’r’ goin’ an’ what ye’r’ up to? Some devilment, Pll bet. I kin tell it by ther twinklin’ o’ yer eyes, Jest guess I'll leave word fer Jamesy and take a quiet sneak after you.” And putting his thoughts into execution, the young gamin hastily scribbled the note Beak ad found, and thrust it under the door. By this time old Jake Morgan had passed. This man was better known to the criminal courts than ’most any one following his profes- sion—that of burglar. He had begun his down- ward career when but a boy, and had never abandoned it. He had been in prison many times, under severe sentences, but it somehow happened that he never served his full time out like other prisoners. Just why, no one ap- — able to explain, but it was nevertheless a act. His last term at Cherry Hill had been for three years, but he had got off with two, promising to lead a better life. It seemed he meant it, too, for he kept him- self so quiet that no suspicion of participation in burglaries could be laid upon him. But, as the gamin had alleged, he had seen a twinkle in the old scamp’s eyes that apprised him of mischief; so when Morgan had got half a square down the street, Spider crossed to the op- posite side and followed him. This was an easy jobs | as Morgan trudged along without looking ack, “The old man ’pears kinder shaky in the knees,” the gamin solloquized, ‘‘ an’ I reckon it won’t be long before he passes in his checks. *Bout one more term at Cherry Hill would fix him. And Pll bet peanuts ag’in’ peggin’-awls thet the old sardine ain’t goin ter croak, till he makes one more big attempt to collar onter a fat boodle. He uster hev quite a gang o’ pals, but I reckon they must hev shook him and started in bizness on their own hook since ther old man’s gettin’ his gray cap on. Sich is life!” When Morgsn reached Sixth street, he turned into it and followed 1st until he reached South. Then he once more took an eastward course, un- til he finally reached the rivér front, when he went out on one of the piers in the vicinitv, and became lost to view behind a number of high tiers ef phen with which the wharf was nearly ed. No vessel was anchored in the immediate vi- cinity, consequently no business was going on, on that particular wharf. Spider did not venture out on that wharf, but took up a position, not far away, where he had a prime chance to see who came off, or went on. ‘““T’d jest give a cud o’ terbaccer ter know what old Morgy is up to,” he mused. ‘‘ Them bales 0’ rope aire too big fer him ter steal, an’ ther don’t ’pear to be any one ekse on the wharf. Wonder if he’d go an’ drown hisself¢ Nixee, Reuben! Too much anymile speerit ‘bout old Jakie ter give up ther ghost in that fashion, Mebbe he’s gittin’ romantic in his dd age. an’ hes gone out to arn what ther sad sea waves 0’ ther Delaware aire sayin’, Thatain’t probable,
Page 11
dudes w’ot git stuck on sad sea waves. No, sir-ee! But what the blazes is the old man up to, jo acta ne—two—three hours passed, without the gamin’s getting a solution to the mystery. Atlast, thoroughly disgusted with his tedious wait, he was about to venture upon the wharf when he saw aman coming rapidly down the street. As the new-comer drew nearer, Spider recog- nized him, and gave vent to a whistle of sur- prise. And little wonder; the man was none oth- | : : business.” “Tl be kicked for a cat ef et ain’t the chap I | er than Gilbert Guion. upset, an’ w’ot my gal, Botts, is goin’ ter work for,” Spider mused. ‘‘ Wonder what he’s doin’ down here? What! goin’ out on the wharf? Ho! ho! I thinkT scent ther peculiar odor of a full’grown wharf mice. Et jest strikes me there’s goin’ to be a meetin’, %wixt Guion an’ old Mercy? Thet Guion kinder looks like Morg, too. Shall I be an eaves- dropper ter this interview. Waal, I should cuckoo! I will walk into their parlor, said the Spider to their fly.” And waiting until Guion had disappeared be- yond the piles of rope, the gamin glided out up- on the wharf, and was soon on top of one of the uppermost bales, where he could hear without being seen. ‘* Now, then,” he mused. ‘I’m prepared to hear all that is sed, an’ I hope they will fire ahead.” His hopes were to be realized. ‘*This is a deuce of a place for a meeting,” | Guion was heard to say. are no eavesdroppers?” * Yes! yes! I’ve been here for hours, and no one came out on the wharf. There’s no vessel near, and there’ll be no work here till one comes. Besides, I’ve got my terriers ears yet, an’ ef any one came on the wharf I’d hear ’em you | t!” ** Well, what do you want, old man?” Guion demanded, with considerable gruffness. ** Some of the ‘ root,’ of course,” the old hard case retorted, with a chuckle. ‘* You can’t ex- pect your poor old—” “Shut your mouth!” fiercely cried Guion. “No more of that! I’m gettin’ tired and sick of your eternal demands for money, d’ye know 1 ‘**T can’t help it if you are,” Morgan replied doggedly. ‘‘ You dare not refuse me, or ri bu'st yer hull game up, you bet yer boots!” ** And for two cents I'd chuck you over into the river!” ** And I’d swim out, like a sailor!” with a dis- agreeable laugh. ‘‘Oh, I tell you, boy, there’s no use o’ your buckin’ ag’in’ yer dad, fer—” “Curses on you! Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” raved Guion. ‘“‘If you want to see me, hold your tongue! What do you want money for?” ‘What does aman want when he’s hungryt Bread, of course. But come; enough of th When are you going to have those jobs ready?” “That's hard totell. The old man is growing more stubborn and unmanageable every day he lives, and clings to the hope that he will find that boy, Mark. His money he still keeps tied up in the Safety Deposit vault, and all my per- suasion for him to draw it out and keep it in a safe in his own house is without result. As you know, I have told you that I believe a will ex- ists in Mark’s favor; anyhow, the lawyer calls twice daily at the mansion, and if a will is not already made, one is likely to be, ere the old man drops off. He ordered me to get him a young girl for a nurse, at fifty per week, I complied with his request, and { think I have got one I can twist around my finger. If so, the chances may-be a little more favorable in that quarter. But I wouldn’t stake my life we will ever make a scoop. When I ask for a few hundreds it is not refused, but the old fox is continually harping that he would like to find Mark.” : ‘But, of course, he will not find him?” “Not if I know myself!” was the reply. “Fortune has favored me in getting Mr. Mark into a predicament he won't be likely to get out of soon, “Good! And now, the other case?” “Oh, things are progressiug as well as can be expected, I think, Some of the thunder-clouds linger yet, and my schemes mey possibly fail. But even if they do, the nut will still be ready to crack, for our mutual benefit.” a hope it won’t be long before I get a chance to crack it,” Morgan declared. ‘‘ I’m anxious to try my old hand once more.” The opportunity may come sooner than you ‘** Are you sure there | Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detec ters may assume such a form that it will be necessary to act upon short notice; but I hope not. And now, remember I am short; will a hundred dollars do you?” ‘Yes, that will do—for the present.” ‘‘Then here it is. Now I must be off. Remain closely around the old haunt, for if [ want you I will then have no trouble in finding you. Do you understand?” se Yes.” ‘‘Then, so long. I must be going. Don’t spend that for rum, but keep yourself ready for And Gilbert Guion strode away, while old Jake sauntered along up the street, with Jim Beak’s little pal in his wake, ‘My heyes!” he mused. “*I know’d I could smell a rat—a reg’lar Norwegian on stilts!” CHAPTER X. OLD CHRISTOPHER’S QUEST. EARLY that same morning, Miss Nellie Botts had bundled up her few personal effects, kissed her sad, wan mother good-by, and started for the West Philadelphia mansion of old Christo- pher Guion, where she was to take up her posi- tion as nurse, at the to her astonishing salary of fifty dollars a week. She was in high spirits, and her sparkling | eyes and joyous face attracted the attention of every one in the street car. At last, after a long ride, she reached her des- tination, a handsome old-time residence, set down in spacious grounds, and mounting the steps, she rung the bell, feeling a little nervous lest her appearance should not be ‘‘tony” enough to suit the old man; for she had no doubt but what she could suit him, in other re- | Spects. The bell was answered by a fat, jovial-looking negress, who appeared to apprehend the cause of Botts’s coming. “Oh! you’se de new nuss girl, 1 ’spect,” she said. ‘‘Comerightin. De ole man he ‘is in de parlor, waiting for you.” And Botts was ushered into the presence of old Mr. Guion, who was seated in an easy-chair arrayed in an elaborate dressing-gown and smoking cap. He was probably eighty-five years of age, tall, thin and angular. His face was little more than the skin drawn over the bones, his cheeks were sunken, and his hair white as driven snow. He wore no beard, whatever; and his eyes were supernaturally bright and keen, ‘Dis hyar is de new girl, sah!” the negress said, and then waddled out of-the room, leaving Botts standing before her new master. “Sit down, my child,” Mr. Guion said, point- ing to a chair, and speaking in a kindly tone. ‘“Sit down. You must be tired. Let me see: your name is—” ** Nellie Botts, sir.” “Nellie eh? That's a pretty name, to be sure. Py stars!” he old man had put on his gold-rimmed » ing a and was gazing at Nellie very earn- estly. ‘*My stars!” he repeated, directly, ‘ your face is very much like—like one that used to be familiar tome. Are you quite sure your name is Botts, my dear?” “Oh! yes, sir!” Nellie hastened to say, a rift of color passing over her face. ‘If you will tell me what my duties are to be, I will get to work, sir. The old man scratched his head, a moment, and gazed thoughtfully at the Axminster carpet, beneath their feet. ‘Oh! there'll not be much for you to do,” he said, slowly. “I wanted some bright, genial spirit, more for company, than as a nurse, for I am not so helpless, nor half so near dead as many think and wish I were. Ha! ha! I may outlive ’em all, yet!” ‘¢ Surely no one could wish you dead, sir?” * Couldn’t they? Well, my dear child, that’s because you don’t know. By the time you live to be eighty-five, you will have a better know- ledge of the world and its worldliness. You see —but, nonsense. I will not intrude my gloomy forebodings on you. You may go, now, and hunt up, the housekeeper. She will show you where your:room is. In half an hour, you may come here, ready to go driving.” Nellie gladly arose, and left the room, her cheeks burning with shame, ‘Oh! my, I wonder if he suspects that I lied to him, when I assured him my name was Botts,” she murmured. ‘‘ He seemed to recog- nize me, but I cannot remember that I ever saw him, before, But, then, I was younger, than now, ; nf tives. 11 nuther. Jakie ain’t one o’ them sentimental | expect, old man—sooner than you expect. Mat- | She hunted up Rosa, the housekeeper, and was piloted to a prettily furnished room, and soon felt herself considerably more at home, in. the great mansion. After being shown around generally, by the housekeeper, she returned ta the parlor, where she found Mr. Guion dressed, and evidently in waiting for her. ‘*Did you wish me to accompany you, sir?” Nellie asked. ‘‘Of course, my dear. Iam going to make a brief call on an old friend I have not met for a couple of years. But, before we go, sit down. I have something to say to you, for I take you for an honest girl.” Nellie sat down, feeling very nervous, indeed. ‘‘Now, you see,” Mr. Guion said, ‘I am a very old man, and don’t know what minute I may be called away from this life—the sconer the better, for that matter. When [ go, I must of course leave behind all my money, which is no inconsiderable amount. And there is but one person I would leave it to, he being my grandson,” ‘¢The gentleman who hired me, I suppose?” “Not he! True, he is my grandson, but not the one I mean—nor is he the one I would leave my property to—ah! no. But let me tell you. Years ago, [1] sda most beautiful daughter, who was the pride «rd joy of my life, but she con- tracted an unfortunate marriage with an un- principled scoundrel, against my will, and I drove her from my home. The man she mar- ried, one Jake Morgan, turned out to be a criminal, hut she clung to him for years, and bore him two children, one of whem she named Gilbert Guion Morgan, and the other simply Mark Morgan. ‘‘ Well, after over fifteen years, she came to me one bitter winter’s night, dying from cold and starvation, and begged me to take her in, and my heart relented, and I did so, She kad the boy Gilbert with her—he was then a lad of thirteen or fourteen—but, she could give no clear account of her infant child, Mark, more than that she had lost him. Her husband, Jake Morgan, was in yrison, for burglary. Well, I forgave her, and the died here in my house, first eliciting a picmise that 1 would try to find Mark and would make him my heir, instead of Gilbert, who, she seid would be like his father, while Mark was more like herself. So I promised that her last wishes should be respected. ‘“‘Years passed by, and Gilbert grew up, as-~ suming my name; but, though I spent time and money, I never Ciscovered Mark, until a few ears ago, when he had grown up nearly to man- hood. made known to him who and what he was—for he was then living under the name cf people who had brought him up—and assired im of my good inteations toward him. He re- ceived the news in a very matter-of-fact way--- in fact, did not seem camer elated over his prospective good fortune--and thanking me for my interest in him, said that he should try to get along cn his own hcok, and that he very much regretted to learn that he was the son of the noterious burglar, Jake Morgan. ‘Soon after this, | lest track of him again--- learned that he had changed his name, and have never been able to get track or trace of him since, I want to find him, and draw ay will up m his favor. Perhaps you may have heard of him, or met him?” ; “No, sir, I don’t think I have. I have heard a young friend of mine talk of Jake mesg Sa the burglar, but he never said anything about the man having any sons,” “Who is this young friend of yours?” “His name is Spider. He scmetimes sells newspaper son the street, and sometimes he is a detective’s prentice, for he is very bright, very good and very honest.” “ Ah! Lam interested. PerhapsI may obtain a clew, yet. His name is Spider, eh? Who is the detective?” “Jim Beak. He's a “This boy you say Morgan?” “Indeed, he does. Morgan hit him on the head with a billy once, and Spider’s never for- got him. He often tells me about it, for he— well—” “Well, what?” “He is—that is, he comes to see me, some- times.” “ Ah! yes, I see. He is your beau, eh?” and the old man chuckled, softly. ‘‘ That’s xighte of course it is. I approve of young people keep- ing good and proner company. Pned to be quite a beau, myself, years ago. And now, I'd really like to see this yourg man. Where do you. think we could find himg’ rivate one.” nows something about Bh ee eee =
Page 12
Ceeeamed; ne 12 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. au, one place. I expect maybe he will come mn out to see me, soon, however.’ ‘*Good! Capital! When he comes, I want to a seo him, Perhaps he may be able to give me ya much of the information I desire,” meh! . Does not Mr. Gilbert know where his brother is? ’ ** He denies all knowledge of him, but I some- times fancy he is lying. You see, Gilbert is a cute one ”—with a knowing ‘wink—‘ and he is fishing to step into my shoes when I step out. He thinks I don’t know it but I do. He hopes, by playing loving and attentive grandson to me, mer that I will will him all I have got, but I won't. i He’s Morgan, clean out and out.” ** Does Mark know he has a brother?” The old man scratched his head. ** No, I think not!” he said. ‘I believe I did not tell him that. He does not know it, unless he he has obtained the information from another | source.” t Leaving the mansion, they entered a private fs coupe, drawn by a dashing span of bays, and ie. driven by a liveried coachman, and were soon : being whirled away into town. Reaching Broad street, they turned to the | northward, and continued on, on, on, until they a finally turned in Germantown avenue. By this time Nellie had turned decidedly pale and was very nervous, but the old man appearec absorbed in thought, and did not notice it. Still the conveyance rolled on, square after apa until it drew up before the residence of Harrington Hurst. Nellie’s face was by this time white with pal- lor, and she put her handkerchief to it, and pre- tended to cough, that Mr. Guion might not take note of the fact. ‘ **You will remain here, my dear,” the old } gentleman said, getting out of the vehicle. ‘TI ie will not be gone long.” | “Thank God!” Nellie uttered, under ner breath, as the old gentleman entered the man- sion. ‘ Oh! I wasso afraid he would have asked ; me to enter thathouse! No! I never could have ot) done it. I should have dropped dead on the LR) steps. And, what can Mr. Guion want there? Dear me! Iam trembling like a leaf. I wish— I wish I was a thousand miles from here!” CHAPTER XI, NO THOROUGHFARE! TuHE face of Detective Jim Beak was that of a ver pees man, as he and Carrol Carter wa rapidly toward the hotel where Hazel Hurst was stopping. This was a strange case he was engaged upon, and one with but precious little light to work in. He did not know what to make of the man who was walking beside him. Carter was the biggest conundrum he had ever struck in his life. In due time they reached the hotel, and Beak sent up his card. The waiter soon returned, saying that Miss Alden would see them in her room, Accordingly they were shown up and entered, Beak preceding. Hazel ran joyously forward to meet him, not seeing that there was a second person until Car- ter had closed the door behind him, Then she shrunk back with a startled cry, her gaze fixed upon Carter’s face until it seem- ed as if she meant to look him through and through, her face white as death, her whole frame quivering as if with an ague-fit. Carter stood calm and erect, his arms folded across his chest, and returned the stare as with a defiant interest. 4 For a minute, a pin’s drop could have been as heard. oh. Then Beak said: ** Miss Hurst, do bh recognize this man?” 1 Hazel gave a sobbing gasp; and sunk back fe mpon the sofa, burying her face in her hands. “My G have mercy—yes, ‘tis he!” she ve moaned. ‘Oh! Terrol! Terrol! Terrol !” a Wild-eyed and pallid, she arose, tottered a across the carpet, and sunk upon her knees be- Or ey S Fee oe ee Es, =~ > eee === Se -3 . ae -S iL — +: = SS eS eae tb Re eee -+% os —— a PE I 8 ba. - E aoe? Sarg) fore him. “Oh! Terrol, why do you gaze at me so ‘strangely? Do you not knowme? Have you é; * T dor.’t know, exactly, where you could find | him, to-cay, sir, for he don’t often stay long in " fi ye ‘so soon forgotten me?” fact “Dear lady, Ido not know you,” Carrol re- | lied, ‘As God is my witness, I never saw you fore in my life!” ‘* Never saw me?—never saw me? Oh! how pt ri / ean you say that?” ‘ef ‘* Because, dear lady, I am ing the hol i! truth. My name is not Terrol Taylor, nor did a ever bear that name. SS eee | “Not Terrol Taylor? Not the man I wed? Then, in the name of mercy, who are you?—for you are his very image!” ‘*My name is Carter, ma’am—Carrol Carter. There has been some remarkable mistake here; I have been taken fora man I never saw or heard of. Mr. Beak has told me the story of your singular experience, and I voluntarily came here to let you see for yourself that I am not the gentleman you are looking for, If, as I suppose, you love this Terrol Taylor, your wo- ee i instinct ought to tell you that [am not e.” Hazel arose to her feet, with a sobbing moan, and walked unsteadily to the further end of the room, where she stood a few minutes gazing out of the window. Beak and Carter retained their respective po- sitions. Finally she returned, and paused near the ac- cused Carrol, and with her wildly staring eyes gazed into those of his. Her face was deathly, her every nerve seemed drawn to its utmost tension, ‘You say you are not Terrol Taylor?” she de- manded. ‘*T am not,” ** Never was?” ‘ Never—never!” ‘* Never saw me before?” ** Not to my knowledge.” ‘‘ Never met me at social gatherings within the past six months?” ‘*Himphatically no. I have not moved in so- ciety, and it bas never been my good fortune to meet a lady of the high social position which I understand you occupy.” ‘* Will you swear to this before God?” ‘*T swear to it before God, as I expect marcy hereafter!” That will do. may remain.” ‘* Allow me,” Beak said, stepping forward. ‘* Before you go will you kindly write your name and address on this card, Mr, Carter?” “* Certainly, sir.” There was a pen and ink in the room, and sit- ting down at a table Carter executed the detec- tive’s request. It was a fine style of chirography, both easy and graceful, showing plainly enough that he had not attempted to disguise his hand, ** And now, Mr. Beak,” he said, rising to de- part, ‘“‘I trust that you are satisfied that I am not the man you want and that you will be hon- orable enough not to let your unjust suspicion get to my wife’s hearing.” ‘‘T am not inclined to express an opinion yet sir. At all events, until rove you guilty I shall say nothing to mar the pleasant scene I witnessed to-day. Good-day, sir. I presume you can be found if wanted?” “T can. Good-day, Miss Hurst, and to you, Mr. Beak!” and with a courteous bow Carrol Carter departed. Beak took a turn up and down the room be- fore he ventured to look at Hazel who had be- come seated on the sofa, When he did look at her he saw that she was a great deal more composed but still white, and evidently suffering intensely. He went and sat beside her and ventured to take one of her fair hands in his—an act she did not repulse. ‘* Miss Hurst, you cannot imagine how deeply I i hic agree with you in your trouble,” be said, ‘*I see you are a greater sufferer than you are willing to admit,” **No!” she said, slowly. ‘“‘Iamnot. I ama great deal braver than I was. I realize that I have been very weak and foolish and have re- solved to be so no longer, You, sir, are very kind, and I am most grateful.” “Speak not of that. Tell me—tell me: what of the men I brought here?” ‘* He is not Terrol Taylor!” **Not? Are you sure—are you satisfied on that point?” ‘““Yes,I[am. At first I was sure it was Ter- rol, but now I am satisfied to the contrary, not- withstanding the fact that the two men are very counterparts of each other, Two human beings could not be more alike as regards mere personal appearance,” ‘“‘Ah! Was your decision based in your be- lief of Carter’s veracity?” ‘*Not wholly. There were several things which I consider in his favor. First, he spoke like a man who was telling the truth; second, his voice was finer than Terrol’s;. third, his hands were not nearly so small or white as Ter- rol’s. No, Mr. k, I cannot believe, now, but what you have got hold of the wrong man. You may go. Mr. Beak, you But, tell me all about it, please; I am so anx- ious to hear all the particulars,” So he gave them to her. He began at the be- ginning, and told her everything. ‘* There’s another thing in Mr. Carter’s favor,” she said, when he had finished. ‘If you have the letter Terrol wrote me, compare the writing with that of Mr. Carter and you will find the two are essentially different.” The comparison was made, and it was proven that she was right. The chirography of each was wholly dissimilar. ‘*T see—I see!” Beak commented. ‘‘ It does look as if I had got hold of the wrong man. By the way, I told you about the challenge Spider found, but neglected to show it to you. Here it is. See if you recognize the writing—there might be such a possibility, you know, for it is rather an odd hand.” Hazel no sooner set cyes on the writing than she uttered a little cry of surprise. You recognize it?” ‘*T should say so!” It is the writing of Gilbert Guion!” Yes?” ** Positive. I would know it anywhere.” ** And so Gilbert Guion—” The detective did not finish the utterance, but arose briskly. ‘*T must be going,” he said. ‘‘ I’ve work todo, and plenty of it, perhaps.” “You will call again?’ Hazel asked, putting her hand detainingly on his arm, and Icoking i into his face. ‘I donot feel so afraid when I know that one so brave and good is near at hand,” ‘Yes, I will come whenever I have a moment to spare, Miss Hurst. Aw revoir.” And he bowed himself out of her presence. “So noble and kind!” Hazel murmured. ** How different men are. If it were not for my unfortunate marriage with Terrol, I almcst be- lieve I could— but stop! What am I saying? Tis too late for me to have any thoughts of aught else but misery and despair.’ ak went direct to his cffice, his brows knitted almost into a scowl. Sitting down at his takle, he proceeded to make out a concise memorandum of the case in all its points,as well es he could, considering what data he had thus far gathered. Then he ran it carefully over and devoted a straight hour to deliberation and reflection. He formed a clearer idea of the intricate case and gradually developed his peor Carrol Carter was not Taylor. He was pretty sure on that point. But who was Taylor, and where was he? This was a question most important to an- swer. ““T’ve an idea that my best move is togotothe house on Oxford street, and see what I can learn there,” he finally decided. ‘‘ This man Gilhert Guion is evidently oe a strong game, and for big stakes, and | shall haveto ply my knit- ting-needles fast and judiciously to get abead of him. Let me. see. € appears to be playing three distinct games. First, he seeks to make Hazel Hurst his wife, and exercises a stron power over her father; second, he wants Carro Carter and Myra Morton to be married, and his wishes have been complied with. Third, he wants to fight a duel with Terrol Taylor at the sea-shore. Hang me if 1 can see into it all yet.” ‘‘Nor I, by jingo!” cried a voice, and the Spider dodged into the office with a blacking-box swung over his shoulder, ‘‘Shine ’em up, Jamesy; give you a patent-leather shine for the small sum of half a dime—a nickel—five cents— ther twentieth part o’ a dollar. Whoop-la! put out your quoits, heer, an’ let me go fer ’em! ‘** For I ain’t Morgan the pirate, A-sailin’ on the sea! An’ if I don’t make Jakey irate, You may skin me fer a flea!’ he sung. —_—— CHAPTER XII. HURST’S REVELATION. Mr. Guton’s summons, at the door of the Hurst residence, was answered by a colored hall-boy. “Ts Mr. Hurst in?” was the inquiry. ‘‘'Ves, sah. Step into de parlor, sah. What is de name, sah?” ; ‘*Tell him an old acquaintance wishes to see him. That will be quite sufficient.” And Christopher Guion walked into the par- lor with a step much firmer than could have been expected of a man of his age. In a few minutes Mr. Hurst made his appear- ance. He paused a few feet from where Mr. Guion was sitting, and gave him an inquiring glance;
Page 13
‘ a Ht) | th ——__—_— ee ee then he suddenly stepped forward with extended hand, exclaiming: “Yes, it is I,” the old man replied, rising, “You did not expect ever to see me, Harring- mn?” “Pll give you my word of honor—no! I had altogether lost track of you, hearing occasional- ly that you were gradually going down to that end we all must reach.” . “ And forgetting, at the same time, that you hold a large sum of money of mine that, at my demise, must be accounted for!” “What?” The ex-speculator’s face changed color very rapidly, ‘Just as I remarked,” the elder man said, with wonderful composure. ‘‘Some five years ago I placed twenty thousand dollars in your hands to invest for me in speculation. You were'rated Al, on ’Change, and I never bother- ed myself particularly to look after the amount, . trusting in your honesty and our friendship of earlier days.” “6 But—” “Hold on! I am talking at present. Some time ago I learned that you had retired entire! from the stock business, and as you did not call around, I felt it my duty to call on you and come to a settlement.” Hurst grew excited. ** Come to a settlement?” he ejaculated. ‘ Do you mean to say that we are not already square?” ** Most positively and assuredly not, Harring- ton, I shold your papers for the money de- i ** And J, also, hold your orders, which absorb the entire amount: investment, twenty thou- sand; profit, ten thousand; total, thirty thou- sand dollars!” And Mr, Hurst certainly looked triumphant. **My orders, sir?” cried Mr. Guion, rising to his feet. ‘Why, sir, what do you mean? I have given no orders, so far as the money I in- trusted to you is concerned,” “You have not ?” *T have not /” _ “You have not issued and signed orders, from time to time, authorizing me to pay to one Gil- bert Guion, sums of money ranging from one thousand dollars up?” “fT have not. If you hold such orders they are deliberate forgeries!” Harrington Hurst walked up and down the room, his brows contracted into a fearful scowl. But suddenly he brightened up. ‘By Heaven! if this be so,” he cried, “‘ I have at last got an offset against my dread enemy! You say these orders are forgeries?” ** Most assuredly. As you can Jearn, I have not issued an order for years, asI have done no business. Furthermore, I was not aware that you knew Gilbert Guion.” “Indeed! I have known him, to my sorrow. I first had an introduction to him on Third street. He was an affable fellow, and soon won my “eer and finally induced me to let him have a lodging room in my own house. He appeared to have plenty of money, and specu- lated quite successfully in stocks, and so I final- ly took himin. At last, however, unfortunate- ly for me, he got a grip on me that I was pow- erless to shake off. And he has held it ever aiuice,” ‘* Well, well! this is indeed news tome. So Gilbert has n playing the villain, has he? Well, well! I always had an,idea he was not above villainy. But tell me all about it, Har- rington. You and I were always on good terms, and you can trust me, you know. Tell me what this power is that my grandson holds over you?” 5 Harrington Hurst hesitated a moment; then he drew his chair nearer to his visitor and sat own. ‘JT will tell you,” he said, ina hoarse, unna- tural tone; ‘‘but you will be the first one to know it. will bare my guilt for once, and make a clean breast of the facts, as they are, I hee ord you have heard rumors concerning my amily trouble?” ‘‘T was told, some three years ago, that your wife and youngest daughter had committed sui- ‘cide by drowning in the Delaware.” “Tt will never be known that such was the case, as no bodies were found. The only reason for the belief is, that my wife had often told her lady friends that she had a great mind to drown herself, She was very sensitive, and yet a wo- man of t force of character. * , you see, the cause of our family trou- ble wasrum, Upto a year ago 1 bad boon 4 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. pretty stiff drinker, on which account we had more or less family jangles, and I am willing, now that it is too late, to admit that 1 was the | principal one in fault. ‘‘ About three years ago I took my eldest daughter to Germany to fimsh her education and after'a tour by myself, in which I visitec Baden Baden and Monte Carlo, I returned home. Liquor had pretty well gotten the upper hand of me, and I was far from being a pleas ant man. “One night, when I was intoxicated, I had a quarrel with my wife, and actually threw her into the street, and locked the door on her. My daughter Helen escaped by the rear way. Short- ly afterward I awoke to a sense of the unjust act [ had committed, and went forth in search of my wife and child. But I could not find them, or obtain the slightest clew to their whereabouts. ‘The next morning’s papers reported that one of the hands on a ferryboat had. seen two bodies floating in the river—women's bodies, But, al- though I caused a search to be made for them, they were never found. ‘“Oh God! you can never know what I have suffered, Mr. Guion, since that fatal night! “Tt was a few days afterward that your grandson showed his cloven foot. He came to me and positively asserted that he and three other men had seen me push two women off of a wharf into the Delaware the night my wife and daughter disappeared, and that, unless I chose to pay well for it, they would cause my arrest for the murder!” ‘** Horrible!” ‘You may well say so. I was thunderstruck —dumfounded, I tried to assert my innocence but was only laughed at, and warned that I had a choice of paying ‘ hush-money,’ or going to jail! “And, did you accede to this villain’s de- mand?” ‘* What else could I do? I was grief-stricken, and felt guilty for what I had done; and then, too, the mysterious disappearance of my wife and child, had created a great talk in the neigh- borhood, and I was looked upon with suspicion —or at least, I thought. I was. It was generally known, around here, that we had not lived hap- ily, and the people seemed to take an insane de- ight in staring at me whenever an opportunity was afforded. Therefore, what could I do but become the slave of Gilbert Guion? Did TI re- fuse, he swore to testify against me, and to pro- duce three other witnesses to corroborate his testimony. The chances were ten to one that I would have been led to the gallows, within a twelve-month. So nothing was left for me but to yield to his demands,” “Well?” “ At first, he went lightly, taking as low as a hundred at a time. After a while he gave me the orders from you. I was suspicious, but on comparing the writing with former writing I had of yours, I could see no difference, and con- cluded’ the orders were genuine, and cashed them. After your balance had been exhausted, to a dollar, Gilbert renewed his demands for mo- ney, and would not listen toless than a thousand ata time. Had I not possessed a large fortune, he would have made me a beggar, ere this. In all, including your orders, he has taken over seventy thousand dollars, by this blackmailing scheme. Some six months ago he announced that my daughter Hazel, who had returned from Europe, beautiful and accomplished, must become his wife, and that I must persuade her to do so, un- der penalty of exposure to the law,” ‘¢ The detestable wretch!” ‘¢ Worse than that. I endeavored to buy him off, but he would not listen to it. He did not want money, but wanted my daughter, and com- pelled me to promise that I would use all my in- fluence in his behalf.” Mr. Hurst then went on, and narrated what is known to the reader; all about Hazel’s strange marriage, the missing certificate, and Hazel’s recent flight, ending with: **So you see, Christopher, as a man, I am re- markably and bitterly cursed. I am at the mercy of a demon, and probably shall die thus, unless I can use the forged orders to checkmate him.” And Harrington Hurst buried his face in his hands, and was plainly both sorrowful and re- pentant. Mr. Guion had thoughtfully. It was several seconds before he spoke, and a singularly weird silence pervaded the room in the mean time. Finally he said: ‘“‘ Harrington, I have listened to, and consid- listened attentively, and 18 ——. —— —_— ered your story, and, believe me, I truly pity you. Youare getting old as well as 1, and it pains me to see you going down to your grave so unhappy. Perhaps, aged and infirm as I am, Iean lift this weight, with a power as firm as that belonging to younger years. Will you give me those forged orders, Harring ton?” ** What?’ The ex-speculator looked up, as if he did not fully comprehend. ‘ Give you those orders?” ‘*-Yes—to be used for the sake of banishing this power that is bowing you down.” B: nw can you do that? “That remains to be seen. But I can do it, Give me the orders, and promise me to remain right here at home, inactive and quict, and I will get you out of Gilbert’s power.” ** And—” ‘“*T will do more. I will use my best en- deavors to restore your Caughter to you, on con- ditions,” ‘* Name them!” ‘‘They are that, if she still loves the man to whom she was so strangely married, and desires to live with him as a wife, you will take them in and treat them as daughter and son.” ‘““ Why these conditions?” “ For the sake of harmony.” Hurst arose, and went to his safe; he opened it, and speedily returned with a small package of papers. “There they are,” he said. this load that is bearing me down, do so. act entirely according to your wishes.” “Very well. Remain quietly at home, as I have said, and pay no attention to Gilbert Guion’s threats. henever I am prepared to spring the trap on him, I will let you know. I must be going, now.” Hurst showed him to the door, and watched him get into the coupe. As the driver gathered up the reins, the ex- speculator caught sight of the face of Nellie otts, With a eae he staggered back into the ves- tibule, and fell to the floor, in a swoon, while the Guion equipage rolled poe its occupants not aware of what had happened, CHAPTER XIII. THE VAIN SEARCH, Jm Brak looked on with a scowl, as the Spider entered his office, with his bootblack har- angue and song. ‘‘' Where have you been?’ he demanded. ‘“’Pipin’ old Jake,” was the response, as the’ gamin dropped upon a chair. .‘‘ Got any cigars,, or chewin’, or gum, or liquorice, or taffy?” “No! What in the world caused you to neg- lect my business, to follow old Jake Morgan?” “‘Interlect! 1 see’d by ther glim in the old house-pirate’s eye thet he was in fer suthin’ or other, sich, so I follered to enjoy the fun.” ‘* And had your trouble for your pains,” ‘‘Nixee! Ihad pains fer my trouble, I wus all cramped up on top of a bale o’ rope, an’ when I tried to straighten out my shanks I near got the lockjaw—fact!” “Nonsense! If you’ve got anything worth telling tell it, and no more funny business.” “Well, I'll give it to you straight, and in short chunks. Follered Jake; Jake went to wharf, bove South street; went out on wharf, behind stacks 0’ rope; I wasn’t fur off; byme- by, “long comes man; goes out on wharf; meets Jake; I follers; gits on top o’ rope; listens! Aire that short enuff? Kin make it shorter, ef ye want, as fer instance—” “That will do! Who was the man who went out on the wharf—did you know him?” “You bet! It was Gilly Guion—land-lubber, smouger, double-decker— “Gilbert Guion?’ the detective interrupted, in amazement. “You bet!” That same snoozer in a new role, as the theatrical fakirs say.” “Go on; I am interested.” ‘‘ Well, there’s where my oration ends, Ef you wanter know what transpired, heer’s my re- port, word fer word, Yer see, Jamesy, yer didn't teach me pocireten all fer nothin’, Tm as fly as ther next one, ef my name isn’t Vanderbilt, an’ a gold.spoon in me mouth;” and the youth handed the detective a couple of sheets of paper, on which were the many curious hieroglyphies, peculiar to short-hand-writing. Beak’s face, assumed a looked of pleasure, as he surveyed the work of his apt pupil. He was an accomplished nographer, him- self, and had made Spider his pupil, in dull times, with a result that was highly satisfactory to him. His face betrayed that he was not a little sur “Tf you can lift I will
Page 14
—) prised, as he ran over Spider’s report, which was complete, in every detail. ‘*So! so!” he said “eg “Tt appears by this that Guion is old Jake organ’s son?” ‘* Yes, chip o’ the old stump!” ‘“‘ And that, if Guion fails to score his point of marrying Hazel Hurst, he intends to rob her father, and also, most probably, his, Guion’s, grandfather?” ‘So it would seem, by the light of the moon.” ‘* Well, [’ll have to look after this matter. But first, and most important, we must look up Terrol Taylor.” The detective then explained how his adven- ture with young Carter had turned out, adding, in conclusion: ‘* So, you see, you got on to the wrong man, when you took Carter to be Terrol Taylor.” “‘Mebbe I did,” Spider allowed, doubtfully, **but I wouldn’t like to bet an oyster supper on it. I never see’d: but one feller down ‘round Ninth and Sansom that looked as Carter does, onless, if there is two of ’em, they took turns at loungin’ around there. Then, too, both of ’em has a habit of pickin’ their teeth with a goose- quill, nigh the side entrance to the Continental.” ‘* There is no doubt a mistake, nevertheless,” Beak said. ‘‘And I am going to try and ferret it out, at once, Pll not leave a stone unturned until I find the real Terrol, if he is in existence, You may remain here, and keep the office open. If any one calls, tell them I will be back in the course of a couple of hours.” Beak then went away. He took a car, and rode north to Oxford street. He still had some distance to walk, but finally, reached the house where Hazel Hurst had said Taylor boarded. Ringing the Bell, Beak waited for an answer to the summons, and after a time, the door was opened by a sharp-visaged woman, who survey- the detective in a way calculated to indicate that she did not thank him for standing on her marble iene, which had recently been cleaned. ‘What do you want?’ she demanded, shortly. ‘*T called to see if a young gentleman named Terrol Taylor, was living here?” Beak said. ‘*No, there ain’t!” ‘Ah! But, such a party did live here, madam?” ‘* Yes. He had a room here.” “ How long ago did he leave?” “Yesterday. He couldn't pay for his room and so had to get.” ‘* Indeed! Could you tell me where he went ” ‘“No. His trunk is here, yet, an’ won’t go *way, until he pays me what he owes me.” ** How much is that?” ‘Ten dollars.” ** Could you tell me what kind of a looking man this Mr. Taylor is, and how he was dressed? I will pay you for what time of yoursI take up, in asking all these questions.” “Then walk in, sir. Time is money to me, and I am willing to tell you whatI can. Walk right in, sir.” eak followed, and was conducted into a poorly-furnished parlor, where he was bidden to a seat. ‘*'You see, sir, I have a photograph of Mr. Taylor, that he gave me a couple of years ago,” = Jandlady said. ‘It is a good one of him, ro PM She handed i. to Beak, and he took it nearer to the light, and studied it attentively, while, in the mean time, the woman was giving him a de- scription of Taylor’s make-up, which tallied, in every detail, with that of Carrol Carter. The face, too, was a very counterpart of Car- ter’s, and, for the life of him, Beak could not see » point in Taylor’s face that Carter did not shinient ‘* Was Taylor a temperate man?” Beak finally asked. ‘* He was, sir.” ‘* What business did he follow?” ‘He was a house-painter once, that I know, but he didn’t work at his trade at all. He was always dressed up, and played the gentleman. He may have gambled, as sometimes he had quite a sum of money, and at other times he would be dead broke.” ‘“‘Ah! Perhaps your surmise is correct. Did you ever hear him mention having participated in a mock marriage?” ‘*'No, sir.” ‘*Do you know that he kept cofpany with any particular young lady?” ‘*I do not. His evenings, sometimes until a late hour, were all spent away from here.” *“And so you have no idea where I would be like!v to find him, ma’am?” ** Indeed, I have not, or I would tell you, sir. Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. | He said, when he went away, that as soon as he , could get hold of some funds, he would come and | take his trunk away, and I presume he will.” There was evidently nothing more to be formant a dollar, Beak took his departure. He had found out a little, but not as much as he had hoped, by any means; nor had he gained any clew by which to find or trace Taylor—un- less he were to reach bim by mailing a letter to the general post-office. This now seemed the only feasible plan, so he proceeded to the post-oftice, and indited the following, which he addressed to Taylor, and caused to be placed in the general delivery of the post-office: ‘'PERROL TAYLOR, Tats ‘Formerly of No, — Oxford street:— ‘Dear Srr:—On receipt of this, please send your address at once to James Beak, —— Spruce street, or state where you can be seen, and you will hear o something important for you to know, ‘* Yours respectfully, James Beak.” | ‘*And now, while I’ve an hour to spare, I think I will pay the fair Hazel another call,” the detective mused. ‘‘Somehow, I find it quite pleasant to linger in the light of her pretty eves, and there’s no telling but what I ng take a notion to fall in love with her myself. Stranger things have happened.” CHAPTER XIV. LUCIFER SINGS HIS SONG. CARROL CARTER, after leaving the hotel where Hazel Hurst was quartered, went direct to his new home, feeling immensely relieved, where, a short time before he had been wrung by anguish lest Myra should believe him false, in the face “e! the accusation that had been brought against im. On arrival home Myra questioned him closely as to what Beak had wanted of him, but he man- aged to allay her curiosity without really telling ie, You will know all in a few days, dearest,” he said, ‘‘ and let. that suffice. We are happy, and what is more priceless than happiness? So, ask me no further, but wait until I am fully pre- pared to spring a surprise on you.” So Myra did not question further, but trusted him implicitly, believing, of course, that it was some little business secret of his that would turn out well. But neither knew that a dark and threatening cloud was hovering near, until it suddenly burst upon them. It came in the shape of Gilbert Guion. It was afternoon when the landlady ushered the villain up to Carter’s rooms. Carrol received him, as Myra was busy in the adjoining room, which served them as kitchen. ‘*My name is Gilbert,” Guion said, in begin- ning. ‘‘ You, I believe, bear the name of Carter.” ** Carrol Carter, sir,” was the reply. ‘* But that is not your real name? ** Why do you ask that?” Carrol demanded, ey- ing his visitor suspiciously, and with not a little surprise. ‘Because I am aware that Carter is but an assumed name of yours, and have proof of it. Less than four months ago, you bore the name of Terrol Taylor. Am I not right, or do you deny that?” Carter could scarce refrain from uttering a curse. What did all this mean? as some conspiracy on foot to ruin him, when he had just entered into a state of happi- ness? And to make matters worse, Myra entered the room just then, and recognized Guion, who im- mediately arose and extended his hand. ‘“ Why, my dear young lady, can it be pos- sible?” he said. ‘‘ Alas! then, I am too late?” ‘* Too late?” echoed Myra. “Too late?” cried Carter, both puzzled and angered, “Yes, too late! Sit down, lady—sit down. And, sir, as for you, I am surprised,” and he looked hard at Carrol. ; “‘ Probably you are no more surprised than I am!” was the reply. *“‘What in the name of common sense do you mean, anyhow?” ‘“‘T mean that you are a deceiving and cop- temptible villain, sir! But, hold on! Let me tell you my story so all will be plain. Your real name is not Carrol Carter, as you claim, but is Mark Morgan.” Carrol Carter turned pale at this. “Well?” he said grimly—“ go on!” ‘¢-You havea grandparent, very wealthy, who, until now, has had it in view to settle upon you learned in this direction, and so, handing his in- | | not my interest to do this, he finally prevailed a goodly sum of money as soon as you were mar- ried to some estimable young lady. So, having lost track of you, he commissioned me to hunt you up and try and get you married at once, paying me well for my labor. Although it was upon me, and I took the job. ‘**T found you, and that you were keeping com- pany with the lady who is now your wife. ithout your knowledge I[ saw her, and offered her one thousand dollars to marry you at once, It seems she succeeded.” ‘* Yes, we are married,” Carrol said, casting a reproachful glance at Myra, who had turned nearly as pale as himself. ‘ a, did you be- come a party to such a plot as this?” ‘*No, I did not /” Myra hastened to say. ‘I listened to this man’s proposition, and told him he should have his answer this morning. As you know, however, you proposed to me on your own account, and aA I did was to urge a speedy marriage, Am I not right?” ‘“Yes, you are,” Carrol said, slowly—‘“‘ yes, you are right. But go on, sir!” And he flashed a glance at Guion that boded him no good. ‘*' Well,” the villain proceeded, ‘‘I had no doubt but what, with a woman’s tact, Miss Mor- ton could succeed in hastening the marriage, and so I took leave of her. It occurred to me, however, you being a young and attractive- looking fe low, that it might be well to look up your past, and see if you were free to marry one so young and innocent as Miss Morton. It struck me, too, that I remembered you in con- nection with another affair, and when I came to sift the matter to a certainty, I found that ou already had another wife living. I did not earn this, however, until this morning, or I should have made an effort to prevent this un- fortunate affair.” ‘“Married? My husband married to another woman?” Myra exclaimed, growing white. ‘‘ Oh, Carrol, is this true—is this true? Have you so deceived me?” “Tt is not true! It is an accursed lie, and some devilish power is working against me to accomplish my ruin. And, do you know, I be- lieve that you are that devil!” And Carrol fired a look at Guion that would have made an ordinary map feel slightly un- easy. Guion only smiled, however. ‘“*T don’t believe you are right,” he said, gently. ‘‘All the hand I have had in this un- fortunate matter has been as I have told you. I have worked simply in the interest of your grandparent, I first found you, and then made the sad discovery that you were already. mar- ried. This will, of course, ruin all your chances with your grandfather, as you are a bigamist. It is a very, very unfortunate affair.” ‘“ Who is he married to?’ Myra demanded be- tween sobs, “To one Hazel Hurst, the daughter of a re- tired speculator. The marriage was not an or- dinary one by any means, but is, nevertheless, valid. Miss Hurst and thisman who was known to her as Terrol Taylor, contracted a mock marriage at a social gathering one night, having no idea, I presume, that they were doing an act that legally made them man and wife. ‘*Taylor disappeared, however, after that night and had not been found until I was for- tunate enough. to run him down, or rather un- fortunate enough, I should say.” “You are a liar, sir, from the word go!” Car- rol cried, rising and pacing the floor in a pas- sion, ‘‘and I will hear no more of this. I was never married in my life until I wedded this lady, and I defy you to prove it. There has been a singular mistake made. Another man visited me to-day and made the same charge that you have made—you remember the gentle- man who called, Myra? He was a detective, and was laboring under the same mistake that youare. I took him before the lady whom he alleged was my wife, and told her to pronounce whether I was the man she had married or not. She said I was not. So you see your charge is utterly false.” “Nothing of the sort,” Guion returned, with a confident smile. ‘‘I hold in my possession the certificate of your marriage to Hazel Hurst. You were married by one Timothy Binks, at No, — Montgomery avenue. Immediately after the marriage ee were summoned away by a tele- gram, and have not been seen by your wife since. It is useless for you to deny this, for I have traced matters down to a certainty, have the power to have you arrested for bigamy.” ‘‘ By Heaven! I’ve a mind to murder you, you lying scoundrel!” Carrol cried, in very despera- tion. “Ts it not sufficient that Hazel Hurst , ee
Page 15
ree eee Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. nr rt herself should say that I am nof the man she contracted this unfortunate marriage with?” ** No, for ghe is mistaken, I have the minister as evidence that you are the man, and a minis- ter’s word goes a great ways in court.” ‘* Where is this man?” “T left him at the corner. him?” Yes, bring him! If hs is a minister, as you claim, it cannot be that he is conspiring against me, as you seem to be.” “You mistake my motive, sir. I wish you no harm, but, on the contrary, aim to get you out of this unpleasant predicament. I will bring the minister, but I am surprised that you do not make a clean confession, and save yourself the additional mortification of being confronted by the very man that married you.” “Bring your man, and if he dares to claim that he ever married me, I’ll throw him through the window into the street!” ‘** And get locked up for doing it,” Guion said, with a tantalizing laugh. ‘‘1 think, however, we can settle this matter all right. I will re- turn in a moment.” And rising, the arch-plotter left the room, Myra, sitting on the sofa, then arose, and crossed the room to where Carrol sat in any- thing but a pleasant frame of mind. “Oh! Carrol, this is not true, is it?” she cried, dropping on her knees, before him; ‘‘ oh! tell me it is not so,” ‘* Tt is not true, Myra—it is not true. As God is my witness, itis not! But this man Gilbert evidently means to make me trouble, if he can, Come what may of this mistake, you will not doubt me, will you, Myra?” “No! no! I will cling to you, my husband, until the last, and not believe that you have de- ceived me.” ‘‘May God bless you, then, for your words have made me stronger to meet this Lucifer, whom intuition tells me is conspiring for my ruin.” ‘*Then, your name is Morgan?” “Yes, my name is Morgan. Owing to the fact that my father is a very bad character, however, I have never usedthe name, but have retained the one I was brought up under—Car- rol Carter.” Guion soon returned, accompanied by a tall, slim man, of clerical aspect, who was dressed in well-worn black broadcloth, and a silk hat that was very much out of style. ‘* This is the Reverend Timothy Binks,” Guion said. ‘‘Now, Mr. Binks, you see this young man, here, who claims his name is Carter, in- stead of Taylor. If you were put upon the wit- ness-stand, to testify, what would you say.” Binks looked Carrol over, critically, and then answered: ' 1 : ** According to the best of my belief, sir, this young man is the one I married Miss Hurst to.” ‘** Would you swear to it?” ‘*T would.” ‘Then, you may go. If your evidence is wanted, [ will let you know.” Binks bowed, and took his leave, evidently only to escape the light of fury that burned in Carrol’s eyes. When he had gone, Guion continued: ‘*And now, sir, you will see that I have the power to haul you up in court for bigamy and separate you from this young lady. his I do not care to do, however if we can come to terms?” ‘*To terms, sir?” ‘Exactly. You are in my way here, in Phil- adelphia, as J intend to marry Hazel Hurst my- self, as soon as a divorce can be quietly gotten. So Pll tell you what [Pll do: Take your new wife, and leave the United States forever. Go to Canada, or Europe—anywhere, so you leave the States, and never set foot in them again. Promise to do this and I will give you two thou- sand dollars, in ready cash. Refuse me, and I'll have you arrested, before the day is out.” “+ You will eh?” Carrol cried, springing to his fect. “Then if you do, Pil ive you a better cause than bigamy for doing it!” He threw open the door, and then leaped upon his tormentor and with the strength of a young Hercules, dragged him out into hall, where he pitched him headlong down the stairs, The only wonder was that the villain did not break his neck, in falling. But beyond a bloody nose, he evidently did not sustain any serious injuries, for he quickly regained his equilib- Shall 1 bring yinm, and hurling a malediction at Carrol, ‘sta’ from the house. CHAPTER XV. A NOTABLE CLIMAX. Mx. CaristopHER GUION called upon Jim Beak, that afternoon, and held a long conversa- tion with him—the result of which was that Beak paid a visit to Middle Alley, and held a long conversation with Mrs. Botts, and the re- sult of this was, that three persons received no- tice to call at Beak’s office the next afternoon at two, namely, Harrington Hurst, Gilbert Guion, and Carrol Carter. When the hour arrived, there were seated in the office, Christopher Guion, Beak and Mrs, Botts, who was deeply vailed. Harrington Hurst soon put in an appearance, and was scarcely seated, when Gilbert Guion entered, and was followed in rapid succession by Nellie Botts, Hazel Hurst and Carrol Carter. Beak got up, then, locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. At which Gilbert Guion uttered an oath. ‘What does this mean?’ he demanded, turn- ing pale with apprehension. ‘* It means!” Beak replied, ‘‘ that your jig is up. You've done all the plotting you'll have a chance to, for some years to come, and don’t you forget it! You will plainly see, if you take the pains to make note of who is present, that your goose is cooked,” The arch schemer dropped upon a chair, white and nervous, and gazed from one to the other, in a helpless sort of way, as if he did not know what to make of it, so startling the situa- tion was, ‘*TIt was mainly through your grandfather, that I am able to arrest you as [I now do, In the first place, you are guilty of one of the most atrocious cases of blackmail I ever heard of, You have charged Harrington Hurst with the crime of murdering his wife and daughter, when ou knew they were alive, and where they ived. Under threat of swearing his life away, ou have extorted large sums of money from fr. Hurst, and even tried to force him to com- pel his daughter to marry you!” ‘Go on!” the villian said, with a sneer. ‘‘Have you got any more petty charges to make?” ‘** Certainly Ihave. While you were working this game on Mr. Hurst, you were also trying another one on your grandfather, which will send you to State’s prison for some years. I have in my ve eats the forged orders which you executed and which Mr. Hurst cashed.” “Well?” ‘Nor is that all the evil you have been trying todo. Fearing your brother, here,”—indicatin Carrol Carter=‘‘ would become your grand- father’s heir, you have tried ‘to force him to leave the country under penalty of being arrest- ed for bigamy. You knew Miss Hurst had been wedded to one Terrol Taylor, and you also knew that your brother was a very counterpart of Taylor; so you planned to have Carter, here, married to one Myra Morton, and afterward to accuse him of bigamy, hoping to establish it as a fact, and thus force Carter to leave the country so that, failing in his efforts to find said Carter, your grandfather would draw up the willin your favor!” Gilbert laughed dryly. ‘“You seem to have mastered the case very well, my fine fellow. But how you ever found out so much is beyond my comprehension. Have you got any more charges?” “Two! You stole Hazel Taylor’s marriage- certificate and have it now in your possession, That makes you a thief; to that I may yet be able to add the charge of murder,” * How so?” ‘Because the real Terrol Taylor has disap- ared!” ** How does that concern me?” ‘Inasmuch as I hold a document in my pos- session, which is in your hand-writing, anc leaks lenges Terrol Taylor to meet you at Atlantic City and fight a duel, it concerns you in a very certain manner.” ‘‘ Where did you get it?” ‘*Tt was found in the street,” ‘* Then Taylor must have thrown it away. I did challenge him, because he slapped me in the face once. I have not seen him for several days, and do not know whether he intended to accept the challenge or not. I suppose he will never get the chance now?” ‘*T should presume not, Where is he?” ‘*T do not know, as I have learned that he has left the place where he formerly stopped, in Ox- ford street.” Just then a rap was heard on the door, and Spider’s voice was heard, crying: ‘Let me in, Jamesy! let me in, fer I’ve got the biggest kind of news fer ye!” Beak hastened to admit him, and Spider came dancing’into the room with a bundle of papers under his arm. — ‘Hil by golly! Ye kin kick me fer a cat ef 1 ain’t got news! Terrol Taylor has fell from a scaffolding, on which he had got a job o’ paint- ing, and broke his neck. Here's full account *bout et in ther afternoon papers,” Beak seized a paper and read the item, which corroborated Spider’s statement. Terrol Taylor had fallen from a scaffold, where he was engaged in painting, in the north- - pew of the city, and had been instantly killed. And so Hazel’s strange marriage was no longer a marriage, after all! For which Jim Beak secretly felt more re- joiced than he would care to confess, Gilbert Guion, we bave to add, did not get the deserts many another man would have received. He offered to refund every cent he had extorted in the pursuance of his schemes, he having spec- ulated and made a great deal of ready cash, if he was allowed to go free, ard it was finally so arranged, He was permitted to leave the coun- try—never to return. arrington Hurst prevailed on his wife and daughters to come back and live with him—for the reader has, no doubt, premised that Nellie and Mrs, Botts were those who had been so long lost to him, Mrs. Hurst preferring to live alone in poverty rather than with a drinking husband in riches, They are all happy now together, ard Hazel is soon to wed Jim .: eak, while jp tp will, no doubt, lead Nellie to the altar in dué time, see- ing that she persists in regarding him as an ex- traordinary young man, who will some day be President of the United States. But not as Spi- der, for he confesses that his true name is not Spider but Sylvester—Samuel Sylvester ;—that, as every street arab has his street name, he was known as The Spider; but now, having left the street by virtue of his promotion to a first-class school, he proposes to come forth as Samuel Sylvester and ds credit to hisname. As he cer- tainly will! Carrol Carter and Myra, too, are happy and doing well, Carrol having recently patented an invention from which he is making lots, of money. And when old Christopher Guior dies, Carrol—for he still clings to the name with Christopher’s consent—will become his beir. Old Jake Morgan disappeared from Philadel- phia shortly after his son’s departure, and has not been seen or heard of since, THE END. Half-Dime Singer's Library 1 Waoa, Erora! and 58 other Songs, 2 Caprain Curr and 57 other Songs, 8 Toe Garnsporo’ Hat and 62 other Songs, 4 Jonnny More@an and 60 other Songs. 5 vu, Srrrke You Wirs A Fratser and 62 others, 6 GEORGE THE CHARMER and 56 other Songs. 7 Tue Bette or Rockaway and 52 other Songs. 8 Youne Fe..ian, You're Too Frese and 60 others. 9 Buy Youna Grr and 65 other Songs. 10 I'm tHe GoverNor’s Onzy Son and 58 other Songs 11 My Faw and 65 other Songs. 12 Comm’ Tro’ trum Rye and 55 other Songs. 18 Tax Ronitcgrne Irtsaman and 59 other Songs, 14 Otp Doe TRAy and 62 other Songs, 15 WaHoa, Cuariie and 59 other Songs, 16 IN TH1s Wueat By anv By and 62 other Songs, 17 Nancy Lee and 58 other Songs. 18 I’m Tae Roy THAT’s Bound To Bi.aze and 57 others, 19 Tae Two Orpnans and 59 other Songs, 20 Waar are tHE Witp WAVES SAYING, Sister? and 59 other Songs. 21 InpIGNANT Potty Woe and 59 other Songs. 22 ‘Yum Op ARM-CHarr and 58 other Songs, 23 On Coney Istanp Bracn and 58 other Songs, 24 Otp Simon, THE Hot-Corn Maw and 60 others, 25 I’m in Love and 56 other Songs, 26 PARADE or THE Gus rps and 56 other Songs, 27 Yo, Heave, Ho! and 60 other Songs, 28 'Twitt Never vo To Gin iv up So and 60 others, 29 Buvue Bonnets Over THE RorpDeER and 34 others, 30 Tae Merry Lavenina MAN and 56 other Songs, 81 Sweet Forarr-mE-Nor and 55 other Songs, 82 Leetie Bapy Mine and 53 other Songs. 83 Dm BANJO AM DE INSTRUMENT FOR ME and 58 others. 84 Tarry and 50 other Songs. 85 Just To PLEAs® THE Boys and 52 other Songs. 86 SKATING ON ONE IN THE GUTTER and 52 others, 87 KotorEep Kranks and 59 other Songs, 88 Nin DesprRANDUM and 53 other Songs, : 89 The Grr I Lerr Benny Mr and 50 other Songs 40 °T1s nuT_A Lirtte PApED Friower and 50 others 41 Pretty WHILHELMINA and 60 other Songs. 42 DANOING IN THE BARN and 63 other Songs, 43 H, M.S. PrnaFore, compiere, and 17 other Songs Basen! Fig diy be Newadealers, at five cents / sent post-paid, to any address, on re ceipt of Six cenis per number. j BEADLE AND ADAMS, PusiisHErs, 98 Witiiam Street, New Yor,
Page 16
6S ae a ee A476 Humboldt Marry, the Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s CC _— ee BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novela 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Double Daggers}; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance, 28 Buffalo Kens or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise. 85 Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. 42 Phantom Miner}; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 49 Omaha OL; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. 5! Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 78 Dendwood Dick on Deck; or. Calamity Jane, the Heroine, TZ 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 Deudwood Dick's Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s Guleh. 188 Blinde Wills or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base, 149 A Game of Golds or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivils of the Road. 201 The Black Wills Jezebels or, Dendwood 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-Duat Dick. A Romance of Rough. and Toughs, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divides or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. 821 Dendwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flata. 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- | ginus. 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta, 862 Dendwood Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro | lats. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 posdwood Dick’s Diamonds; or, The Mystery of Joan | Porter. 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “ Cute Case,” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand. 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr. 448 Nickel-Plate Ned; ot, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance. 458 Sunfipwer Sam, of Shusta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Full and. | 459 Flush Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Ronnd- | 465 Philo Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Je’s Racket at tain 10. 471 Bozeman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Corral. Dog Detective, 481 Moll Myatery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood. 491 bbe ya Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick r’s Compact. 496 Monte Criato, Jr.1 or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Inheritance. 500 Deadwood Dick's Mepings or, Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop. 508 Deadwood Dick’s Deliverance, 515 Deadwood Dick’s Protegee. RPeadwood Dick's Three, 529 Deadwood Dick's Danger Ducks, 644 Deadwood Dick’s Death Hunt. 589 Deadwood Dick Jr., in Texans. 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidoeq, Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. B82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 89 Death-Fuce, Detective; or, Life in New York, 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand. 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn BIL; or, The Red Rifle Team, F 69 Gold Riile, the Sharpshooter; or, The Koy Detective, 80 Rosebud Roby or, Nugget Ned, th» Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner} or, Rosebud Rob on Hand, 88 Pheto rae Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reap ce. 92 Canada Chet ; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 96 Watch-Eye 3 or, Arabs und Angels of a Great City, 18 Jack Hoyle _ the Young Speculator. Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. Bonanza Bill, Miner. Bose Hob the King of Boothlacks, Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. oo Ferret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s 098 JOD, New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. Nobby Nick of Nevada} or, The Sierras Scamps, 1 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo, 20% Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 226 Snoozer, the Boy 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’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Angel of Big Vista, 2558 Sierra Sam’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Key Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll , the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll’s Victory. 255 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret, 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or, The Road Queen. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker, 808 ’Liza Jane, the Girl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. 825 Kelley, Hickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia, 880 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggeraville, 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner, 889 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood, 858 Virat-Class Fred, the Gent from Gopher. 868 tA a Jim, the Gold-Gatherers or, The Lottery of ie. 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize, 878 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 885 Yreka Jim's Joker} or, The Rivals of Red Nose, 889 Bicycle Bens or, The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam, 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 Wigh Wat Harry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabaides, the Beggar-Boy Detective, 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 486 BSealskin Sam, the Sparkler. ef jh tk tf BNra> SRO KH I Ges gen BEADLE'S«H ALF- J)IME*[_ IBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, The Flying Yankee}; or, The Ocean Outcast. Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccancer; or. The Fugitive Yacht, 4 Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone, The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants. The Boy Dnellat; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, Dick Dend-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. The Sen-Devil; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. The Hussar Captain 3 or, I'he Hermit of Hell Gate. Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 4 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, 2387 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy 3; or, The Freelance Heir, 250 The Midshipman M utineer ; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. 264 Fk ay Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure sland. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merte Monte’s Cruise; or, The Chase 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 Bine-EKyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. $04 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler. St att T he be] = QS ek dt ptt over AA™ Ww | $08 Keno Kits; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. 814 Ear Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long rail. 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover; or, The Flagless Schooner. 888 The Indian Pilot; er, The Search for Pirate Island, 887 Warpath WIN, the Boy Phantom, 898 Seawall, the Boy Lieutenant. | 402 Invdor, the Young Consptratory or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Inaurgentys or, The Cuban Vendetta, | 412 The Wild Yachtaman; or, The War-Clouu’s Cruise. 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The Sean Raider. 441 The Ocean Firefly 3 or, A Middy’s Vengeance, 446 Haphazard Barry t or, The Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard WIIl; or, The Boy Ferre: of New York. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouta, 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Bow Coaster. 474 Flora; 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 ot the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat. 5607 The Hunted Midxhipman, 611 The Outlawed Middy. 520 Buckskin BIL, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers in Buckskin, 580 The Buckskin Bowers. 585 The Buc skin Rovera, 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rie 645 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte, BY CHARLES MORRIS. 18 Will Somers, the Boy Detective, 22 Phil Mardy, the Boss Boy. 26 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. 80 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 42 Mandsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, A? Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. Black Hess, Will Wildfire’s Racer. Mike Mervy, the Harbor Police Boy. Will Wildfire in the Wooda, Billy Baggage. the Railroad Boy. 0 A Trump Card 5 or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses, Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York, Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, The Hidden Nandy; or, Wi!! Wildfire’s Revenge. Fred HMalyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, Bob Rockett; or. Driven to the Wall. 96 Shadowed ; or, Bob Rockett’s Figlit for Life, 06 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 2i2 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. 220 Tom Tanner; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock. 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky, a ee SNOS HSMN BDEWINNSSAH eae _285 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-Mound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. 805 Dashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker City. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hote! Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective, 858 The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizaard, 867 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry, the Leveler; or, The Bloods of the Boulevard. 408 Firelly Jack, the River-Rat Detective, ag The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier. 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick, the Jolly Vagabond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. 479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman; or, Too Sharp for the Sharper. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Wurricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard, 119 Mustang Sam ¢ or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-Ilawk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch. 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Boy Traflers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path, 208 The Boy Pards; or, Dainty Lance Unmasks. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca Wolf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider} or, The Horse-Thieves’ League 885 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide. 855 The King of the Woods: or Daniel Boone’s Last Trail. 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. ——— BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm, F. Cody), 8 Kansas King; or, The Rei Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 565 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout. 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Faney Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trost BY OLL COOMES. 5& Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. The Dumb Spy. Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. Delaware Dick, the Young Renger Spy. Hawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Rongern Rollo, the Boy Ranger. Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman, Scar-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, Silver Star, the Boy Knight, Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 8 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy aptain, 202 Proapect Pete; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters. 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps. 218 Tiger 'l'om, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Diagulsed Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 2RTZ Minkakin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon}; or, Rainbolt, 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 Buckakin, tne Young Prairie Centaur. 457 Wingedtoot Fred; or, Old Polar Saul. 468 Tamarac ‘Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan, ~ ~ ZESNe eas a — Se ee SOP RAEI Same BY T. ©. HARBAUGH, 28 Nick o’ the Nights or, The Boy Spy of 76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl Hunter. 47 Nightingale Nat ; or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trait. Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. Midnight Jack; or, The Boy Trapper. Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, Klowa Charley the White Mustanger. Judge Lynch, Jr: or, The Boy Vigilante. & Gold Trigger, the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger. Tornado Tom; or, ped Jack From Red Core, 8 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw 3 or, The Quevn of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade, 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Rei Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravo; or, The Roughs of the Rockies, 255 Captain Apall, the King-Pin of Bowie. 267 The Buckskin Retective. 279 Old Winch? or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, 294 Dynamite an: or, The Bowle Blade of Cochetopa. 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bally, 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Parday; or, The Terror of Take-Notice, 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso. 845 Pitileas Matt; o, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret, B56 Cool sam ind Par; or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass; or, | he B ccuneer’s Girl Foe, 896 Rough Rob; or, The | win Champions of Blue Blazon 411 The Siiken mano} or, The Rose of Ranch Robin, 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump, the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vampires; or, Red Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 @ne Against Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar, 470 The Boy Shadow ; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt, 477 The Excelaior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Kingle Sight, the One-Eyed Sport, 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective, 521 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. B28 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows, 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret, 548 Dodger Dick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 546 Captain Cactua, the Chaparral Cock. By Lient. A. K. Sima, BAe ene Andy} of A Good’ Man Down, By P. 8. Ware, 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. By J. C. Cowdrick. 549 Deadwood Dick on His Mettle. By E. L. Wheeler. ede abededed BEASSoee SACOARS 550 Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son, By Col, Prentiss’ ngraham. B51 Nick Nettle, the Boy Shadow. By Jo Pierce. 552 Artel, the Athlete. By David Druid. B58 Dodger Dick’s Desperate Case. By T. C. eles: 554 ieaaweed Dick, Jr., in Gotham, By E. L. Wheeler. bbS The Creole Corsair. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 556 Lariat Lil; or. The Cast fora Life. By rane 8, Warne. 557 Broadway Billy’ Death Racket. By J. C. Cowdriek, 558 The Sure-Shot Pards. By Arthur C. Grisson. 559 Harlem Jack, the Office Boy Detective. By Jo Pierce, 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower. By Col. P. Ingraham, 561 Deadwood Dick in Boston, By Edward L, Wheeler. 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. By Oll Coomea, 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocq. By T. C. Har augh. Ready May 8 564 Powder Phil, the Boy Miner, By John W. Osbon. endy May 15. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, Ready May 22. 566 The Secret Service Boy Detective. By Charles Moria Ready May 29. . 567 Deadwood Diek, Jr., in Philadelphia. By E4ward &. Wheeler. Ready June 5. A New Iseue Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library 's for sale by all newsdealers, ive ¢eonts per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of slx cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.