Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 514) (1887 05 31)
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
sOUKTH EDITION, ae ae «" i <_< Bas |= \ QUIS” \ AQ \ — —- = YY —— VE é {mt Pit Ya a a? oS A Va oe ot __ Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates, Ry e if 4, nse A/T Copyright, 1887, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, May 31, 18%. 2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS Vol. hg Dilly x AND ADAMS, Price, No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. No. O14. TH) | m ae | | } ) (, | uy ROAD iT ahr HL) Ty Wil HII HHH) | eimai rman seme Tp \ WS SN +H . a ‘ Clearing Up a Strange Case. BY J. C. COWDRICK, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ BROADWAY BILLY,”’ “‘REDLIGHT RALPH,” *“BLUE-GRASS BURT,” “‘ KENTUCKY JEAN,” ETc, CHAPTER I. A MISTAKE SOMEWHERE, “Swerer pertaters! it ‘most takes away my breath? Who'd ‘a’ thunk it ?—that I've got a thousand dol- lars in that big bank, all in my own name, an’ didn’t know it. Lordy! I feel like goin’ over ter Bedbug’s Island an’ shakin’ hands witn Mrs. Liberty!, Won- der if she’d shake?” He it was, the same jolly boy, as large as life and quite as natural; the same Broadway Billy whom SS ya aN ote we, once Lior ahrhg have introduced to the readers of 1 SPE ee Py in = H igh ri © “GOT A BOODLE! on! art ouT!” ‘‘NARY A GIT, I'VE GOT A CLIP AN’ CLEAN of this delig ul Library, THOUSAND DOLLARS IN THAT INSTITUTION.” Vin Half-Dime No. 490. WY ’ 7
Page 2
: SESE ON IR See aS ee - * 4] aye . t : ; “ : Broadway Billy’s Boodle, ita OM eM ’ os hr =i ie ey ; | a vate oe He was standing on Broadway, his hands thrust “Thank ye, sir. An’, I’m glad ter know your CHAPTER IL wher | deep into his trowsers pockets, his box hung over bank is sohd. I won’t have ter lay awake o’ night MYSTERIOUS MOVEMENTS, eee oo his shoulder, his cap set back upon his head, and | a-dreamin’ about my boodle. Shine, sir?” _ . Tae moment Billy was down his little friend ry “was gazing up at the stately front of one of the “Well, yes. I see youdo not forget business in | Skinny sprung to his assistance and helped him to eo4 i great banks. your hour of prosperity,” and the gentleman placed his feet, when, catching sight of a policeman, they a He It was getting late in the afternoon, and was about | his foot upon the boy’s box. took to their heels and ares. : 4 } _ time for the bank to close. “Lord bless ye, no!” Billy responded, as hé set to The street boy knows that whether in the right or a “Tt knocks me silly!” he presently exclaimed. | work. “ Why, business is meat an’ bread ter me. ; the wrong or whatever the mistake, he must not let 1 “It's th’ best joke I ever heard of. A thousand dol- | Say, though, mister, what sort o’ cashier have ye | a policeman get hold of him if he can help 1t. lars, an’ every penny of it mine! Great cats! | got? Does he have any appearance o’ tongin’ ter And Billy and Skinny made good their escape. couldn’t 1 do th’ ‘swell’ act, though. if I was ter | become one 0’ th’ Queen’s subjects? D’ye ever see The young man whc had sent Billy to the ground i draw it out! I could turn Fifth avenue dizzy, an’ | him studyin’ railroad maps? Has he got any sort 0’ | so suddenly and so ingloriously, now led the young A make Inspector Br— Hello! Skinny, is that you?” | Canadian-fever sort o’ expression in his off eye? | lady out of the crowd and accompanied her up the f Another boy had just come up, who gave billy a | If—" street. 7 playful poke in the side. ; * The president laughed heartily. “Sweet pertaters!’? Broadway Billy exclaimed ; It was his chum and partner-elect, who rejoiced in “No, my boy’ he answered, “our cashier is all | when he and Skinny were safe from pursuit and j the appropriate nickname of “Skinny,” owing to his | right. He is a gentleman, and far above sus- | capture, “* but that feller made me gee stars. IL remarkable teinness. He was indeed a thin boy; so | picion.” wasn’t lookin’ fer a knock-down, an’ he hit out ‘fore ; thin, in fact, that Billy often declared that he ‘* Glad ter hear it, There’s none of ’em ter be | 1 wasready. Lucky I had time ter dodge a little. or } couldn’t cast a decent shadow. trusted though, sir, an’ henceforth I’m goin’ ter | I'd got it right in th’ eye. Now, Skinny, what d’ye ** Guess it is, Billy,’ Skinny replied. eg 2 my watchful eye on this bank, an’ don’t ye fer- make out of it?” “Haven't joined th’ fat men’s club yet. have ye?’ | git it. H’ist yer hoof.” \ “It’s jest what I’ve been expectin’,” Skinny de- bat! “No, not yet. Say, though, what be ye standin’ “What?” clared. ; Rs)” here for, a-gazin' up at that bank? Don’t think of ‘* Beg pardon; I mean lift yer foot.” “Jest what ye’ve been expectin’! What: d’ye eRe buyin’ it, do ye?” Mr. Jonas Herman was more amused than offend- | mean by that?” he's “No, not jest that, Skinny: but I’ve got th’ best | ed. He had encountered many specimens of the “Mean jest what I say. You have a@ way of ey joke on that bank ye ever heard of,” « | audacious street Arab. but this boy was the most | makin’ yeiself too mighty fresh sometimes, an’ it’s ae ** Got a joke on th’ bank?” amusing one he had ever met. *bout time somebody took it out of ye.” eg ** Sure!’ ‘**What is your name, my lad?’ he asked, as he “If you wasn’t so thin, Skinny, I’d throttle ye i ** What is th’ joke?” changed feet on the boy’s box. _ right here an’ now. Me too fresh! why, you're . * Why, I’ve got a boodle in there,” ‘My name is William Weston. sir, but I'm a good | away off. Didn’t Ispeak ter that girl ina *spectable tes “Got a boodle! Oh! git out!” deal better known as Broadway Billy. what's your | way?” ' | ie “Nary a git. I’ve got aclip an’ clean thousand | name?” ‘‘What business had ye speakin’ to her at all, : _ dollars in that instertution, my gay an’ festive pard, “My name is Jonas Herman,” though?” - ‘ an’ it’s all in my own name.” “Gilad ter know ye, sir. Say, can’t I make a con- ‘Why, I was sure I knowed her, an’ I ain’t sure I “Oh! come away! pp only kiddin’,” tract with ye ter shine ye up every day? Terms | don’t yet. Say, ye’ve heard me speak 0’ Polly Os- : “ Say, Skinay, did I ever lie to ye when th’ truth | easy an’ satisfac'ion guaranteed. Biz is biz, ye | mond, a pretty girl that lives in th’ same house me j would do jest as well?” know.” an’ mom lives in on Centre street, ain’t ye?’ “No, can’t say as ye ever did, Billy.” ‘Yes, my lad; be here at this hour every day, and * Yes, often.” “Well, then, jest pin yer faith onto what I’m | I'll be one of your regular customers.”’ “‘ Well, if th' girl I spoke to ain’t that same Polly, tellin’ ye now.” “Allright! An’? there's yer shine, sir, black as a | then it’s her ghost, I don’t believe there could be * But, Billy, where in th’ world could you git a , crow’s wing, an’ as glossy as a dude’s corkscrew | two persons look so much alike ” thousand dollars?” trowsers.”’ ¢ “ An’ that’s why ye spoke to her, eh?” * Oh! 1 pick ’em where they grow.” With another smile, Mr. Herman gave the boy a “ Of course, Why. Polly an’ me is th’ best 0’ \ “Ye might teil a feller, anyhow.” dime, finished putting on his gloves, and went up | chums, an’ I’m sure i didn t mean no harm.” “Well, I will, Skinny, seein’ 23 we're ter be future | the street. A 5 “*T guess that thousan’ dollar boodle has sort 0” ae ttners. Jest lend me yer ear fer,a minute, or “There, Skinny,” Billy said, as he rejoined his | turned your brain, an’ ye couldn't see straight. It Poth of ’emif ye kin spare ’em, an’ I'll tell ye all companion, ** that’s th’ way ter make th’ quaintance | ain’t likely thai two gals would look so much alike about it.” of th’ upper ten an’ talk business. What I lack in | that you couldn’t tell one from t’other,.” , “All right; fire away.” learnin’ I make up in tongue, an’ th’ feller what kin ‘Now, Skinny, see here. Ican’t set myself right in © * Well, ye remember that case I had last summer, | wag his jaw th’ be!t is th’ feller that’s goin’ ter git | th’ eyes of all that crowd that seen me git downed, don’t ye?” there.” : . but [kin set myself right in yours, an’ T'll do it. “ What case? th’ measles? Oh! yes, I~” “Don't know but you're right, Billy, but I couldn't | You come right along with me to my Centre-street et “Measles yer grandmother! No! I’m a-talkin’ | ’a* had th’ cheek ter ax that man his name like you | wigwam.” | *hout d-tective work!” “ti “Oh! Billy, Ican't! J—* ona “Oh! 1 see.. You mean that case where ye “Cheek! Why, bless yer soul, Skinny, ain’t this a “Yes, you can, too, an’ ye've got ter go! If we 1 brought that rich feller to bay an’ blocked his litile | free-an’-equal country? an’ didn’t he ax my name | kin find Polly Osmone in th’ house, you'll see how game; yes, I remember that.’ first?” easy it was fer me ter be mistook in th’ gal.” +, “Well, it seems Mr. George Stidwell, an’ th’ rest ‘Yes; but then he’s a gentleman, an’—” “Well, if you mean biz, Billy, I reckon I'll have ter 3 aS of ‘em, put a thousand dollars into this bank in my “Well, hang your shadowy carcass! D’ye mean | go.” oe name, an’ I didn’t know a word about it. My mom | ter say I atin’ one? Lordy! Skinny, if ye wasn’t so “That’s what I do mean, an’I reckon ye will.” x r, knowed it, though, an’ she’s been keepin’ th’ bank- | frail I'd pulverize ye, sure!” _ And the two set out. \ f Bras. book fer me. Yesterday she took sick awful sud- Skinny laughed, well-knowing that Billy was not Billy’s home, as he has told us, was in a Centre | {3 den, an’ sent Polly Osmond out ter find me, double | in earnest. street tenement-house. It consisted of three rooms, * quick, Polly found me, an’ when I got home I “Yes, sir-ee/ I'm as good as th’ best of ’em!” | and was near the top of the building. a guess mom thought she was goin’ ter die. She | Billy added. ‘*Mebby they wouldn’t_ believe it, but When he and his friend arrived there, Billy led the : ‘oe called me to her, put th’ book inter my hands, told | it’s a fact all th’ same. Why, even Inspector Br— way up ‘to his mother’s rooms and they entered. a ; me ter be a good boy, an’ then shut her eyes, S + cet per-taters |” : “Hello! mom, hard at work a-sewin’, be ye? 4 “T tell ye what, Skinny. I thought she was a Billy stopped short with that exclamation, and his | You'll be gettin’ sick ag’in th’ first ye know; there's ie goner, sure, an’ it made me feel awful chokey; but, | eyes, open to their widest,were suddenly fixed upon | no need o’ your workin’ so steady all th’ time. Say, MY vd,’ she didn’t go. Th’ octor soon fetebed her around | a young lady who was passing. this is Mr. Skinny, my future pardner that ye've cae ioe all right, an’ this mornin’ she was as ood as new. he was a beautiful girl, about seventeen years of | heard me speak of. I guess ye kin see him, ifye Ae 4 But, th’ secret of th’ bank-book an’ th’ thousand | age, and was dressed in the very acme of fashion. look sharp. \ ‘ pe | dollars ain’t a secret no longer, and—Lordy! I feel illy gazed at her’ in amazement for a moment, | Skinny blushed, and Mrs, Weston welcomed him ia 7 like goin’ right in an’ shakin’ hands with th’ hull | then wee ed boldly forward, laid his hand gently | to her home. eg ee _ concern. from president to watchman.”’ but familiarly — her arm, and said: “T ain’t off duty yet, mom,” Billy pen * hue: Seay Ly “That és good news, Billy, an’ no mistake. Now ** Sweet Loy rs, Polly, where ave ye goin’ all | me an’ Skinny is here on biz. Say,have ye sen © _—_\ ; we kin buy out that corner stand, an’—” dressed up like this? Where dtd ye get th’ togs? | Polly this afternoon?” é i } “Not much!” Billy quickly exclaimed. “I mean | Lordy! you do cut @ dizzy dash, an’ no mistake! “Yes, she left the room only a few minutes before ny ter be self-made, as I’ve told ye before. I’m goin’ | Where—” you came in. She has been here with me two hours WAS, mast ter work my way, my eae festive skeleton friend, **Remove your hand!” the girl cried, turning upon | or more.” : Se: Rais, an’ owe nothin’ ter nobody. That’s my platform, him with her black eyes ing indignantly. “Sweet pertaters! then it wasn’t her, after all. - ft 2 (sta every time! This little thousand kin lay here an “Well, ye needn’t be so mighty huffy about it, An’ I’m gladit wasn’t. didn’t think she’duseme sleep.” q anyhow,” Billy rejoined, as he removed his hand. | so mean. Say, call her up here, will ye? I want patie “ Well, I don’t know but ye’re right, Billy, an’—’’ | * Ye can’t seem ter remember yer friends, now that | see her a minute.” ' “Right! of course I am! Say, though, ain’t it a | ye’ve got fine duds on.” eee “What are you talking about? What has been 4 rich qoke on mom? She felt as mean as mud whe “T do not know you, you young ruffian! and if | going on?’ Mrs. Weston asked, with woman’s = — i she found she wasn’t goin’ ter die, An’ won't it | you say another word to me, I will call an | natural curiosity. ; Seegt. Her of! open th’ eyes of Inspector Br— Hello! this must officer.”? , : Billy explained oriefly, and then his mother ste fey “ft be th’ president of the concern, I guess.”’ “ All richt, all right,” muttered Billy, as he backed ; ped out into the hall and called down to Polly to 28. Billy referred to an elderly gentleman who had | away; “you may not know me, but I know you. | come up: «ie s just come out of the door of the bank and _ was de- Mebbe I didn’t help ye sift ashes this mornin’ out in | In afew moments the door opened and a girl scending the steps, putting on his gloves as he came front of our palatial Centre-street_ barrack.” entered the room. ‘ down. : “You insult me!’’ the girl cried hotly. “TI never Instantly, then, Skinny realized_how easy it had Instantly the boy stepped forward and accosted | saw Centre street, much less you. You mistake the | been for Billy to be mistaken. girl was the : . person.” And with burn cheeks she tried to | very likeness of the one they had so recently seen nn! ‘Say, mister,” he inquired, “be you th’ presiden- push out of the crowd that had geiokly collected. on Broadway, - ; ee : tial figger-head of this ‘stablishment?”’ “ All right,” said Billy, “ have it your own way. “Did you want to see me?” Polly asked, her i “1am the president of the bank, if that is what | know ye, though, an’ I never had any idea ye’d go | bright eyes fairly dancing with fun, Meo ; you mean,” was the reply, as the gentleman paused back on me like this. Hereafter ye kin lug yer own Yes,” said Billy, ‘Ido. You're anicegiri, yor .. and looked at the boy. coal an’ sift yer own ashes!” be, not to want ter reckernize yer friends when they. I “That's what I was drivin’ at,’’ Billy declared. A loud laugh went OE the crowd, the most of | meet ye on Broadway.” : hraphe “Ye see, mister, I’ve gota boodle in that bank—a | those present siding with Billy, who was so positive “T do not understand what you mean,” Ue clean thousand dollars, an’ I want ter ask if she’s | in what he said; and the young lady was placed in a “Well, then I'll have ter tell ye. First, though, lid.” ; most unenviable light. ‘low me ter interduce ye to my friend Mr. Skinny, — “Solid as a rock, my lad,” the jovial old gentle. | There was evidently a huge mistake somewhere. who belongs to th’ fat men’s club. “i ‘ ae ‘man answered, smiling, ‘‘But you are surely not | Suddenly a young man darted out of the benk, | The gir) laughed merrily, and again poor Skinny + in earnest in saying you have a thousand dollars in | pusbed his way through the er-wd to the girl’s side, | was called upon to blush deeply. Pie . , the bank, are you?” : fitted his hat, and said: “Ye see,” Billy then went on, ‘out on away AuesanS “Ain't I, then! Well, now, want ter impress it | “Miss Elmore, what has happened? Can be of | a short time ago a young lady went along who look: — tee Neti on your mind that] am, An’ I've got th’ book at any service to you?” Sasi ; ed so much like you that I thought pop sure it vas _ ~~} home ter prove it.” “Oh! Mr. Melvin!” the girl cried, “Iam so glad | you, an’I tripped right up an’ spoke to her. She — see y “Then Why do you not give up the boot-blacking | you are here! | I have been grossly insulted, couldn't look more like ye. Polly.if she had been — ay \ ”? “By whom?” and her champion glared around | made ter order; could she, Skinny?” NITE ih poe “Cause, jest as 1 told my pardner, Skinny, that | fiercely. “No, they’re both jest alike,” comps P replied, Si ae - ghadder over there: I’m bound ter be self-made or | _“ By that cowardly and ragged bootblack!”" point- | *‘an’ I wouldn’t know which from who 4f I seen ‘em _* nothin’, Ye see, sir, this thousand was given to me, | ing straight at yy i together.” cit Ste f a mean ter earn my start in life.” ith one bound the young man was at Billy’s side, “Jest so. But, th’ instant I s . to her, Polly, : ‘Nobly spoken, my lad. You've got the right and then a quick blow from his fist sent Billy rolling | she got rip-snortin’ Paes oa 2 eget ring about you, and you're bound to rise,” intothe gutter. => Then laxed her if I didn’t help her sift ashes ; “ih \ \ ; . : hy 4 ia a ah ‘ ? " ‘ > J : ‘ s 7 hy : fi > hove ? 4 \. ; j " : i é tees F | ‘ i re ra fo4 \ ’ x As) ’ Ped a Lay. Weg Fhe eh LIAL APRON Tae etd ne , . eee ay By Me 2 ey “ 40th oy a i ' ree ens a : Put [ares bo Ley ae | he!
Page 3
_ lingly. s ae She must—she shall go with me wi rf : By L pyre she would have to ¥ But, eah ht ” os ‘mornin’, an’ she got madder still, Then out rushed adude out of a . hit me a clip before I was lookin’ for it, an’ spilled me all over th’ sidewalk. ‘Then me an’ Skinny came away. Now, Polly, I ‘want ter know who that other girl is.”’ | “Why, I’m sure I don’t know, Billy,” the girl an- swered. ‘I never saw her, I am sure.” ‘Well, J saw her then, an’ I mean ter sce her ag’in, too. I’m goin’ ter know jest who she is, an’ all about her. Why, you two could make your for- tunes as freaks in a dime museum.” “Thank you, bnt I don't aspire,” said Polly; ‘nor would my double, I guess, from what you say of her, She was rich, you ay rr * Well, I should say so, if togs is anything to judge “ Then she can certainly be no relative of mine.” No, I don’t.s’pose she is, Polly, but as I said be- fore, 1’m bound ter know wo she is, or 6u'st, An’ vas fer that dude that knocked me down— Well, I can’t blame him any, under th’ appearances 0’ th’ circumstances, either; but he didn’t look jest my ideal idee o’ true blue, an’ if I kin git a dig at him in a fair way, I sha’n’c throw away th’ chance, you bet!” “I would pay no attention to the matter any further,” Mrs, Weston advised. ‘‘You will only be running into danger and trouble.” “Give up th’ case? Notfer Joseph! I’m neverso hhappy as when I’m head over ears in detective -work, an’ I’m goin’ inter this mystery with a whoop an’ yell that will startle all Gotham an’ cause In- spector Br— Come, though, Skinny, we must be goin’! Skinny was ready, and together they left the house and returned to Broadway, Both were bootblacks, and both had several regu- Jar patrons to serve before five o’clock, so the moment they reached Broadway they parted com- pany and attended to business. In the mean time, barely had the two boys. gone from the tenement-house when a_ closed carriage drew up and stopped before the building. f The driver got down, ae the door and assisted .@ closely-vailed lady to alight. The woman went at once into the house, and the driver waited. Meeting a woman in the hall, the stranger inquired -where Mrs. Osmond’s rooms were, and being told, passed on up-stairs and knocked at a door. Mrs. Osmond herself opened it, : The strange woman passed quickly within, and the door was again closed and locked. Mrs. Osmond was alone, Polly being still with Mrs, “Weston on the floor above. ; * Are we alone?” the visitor asked, with a great show of caution. i “Yes,” Mrs, Osmond answered, ‘‘we are quite -alone.”’ Nise Being thus assured, the visitor lifted her vail. She was a woman perhaps forty years of age, pas- wsably good-looking, but possessed of an evil, or -vengeful, expression of countenance that it was not pleasant to see. ‘*The girl?” she queried, briefly. __ “She is well. She is just up-staifs in the apart- «ments of a neighbor.” ’ *T have come for her.’ ‘*'You mean to take her away?” “ ” ‘But, Mrs, Bl—” “ Hist! not that name! Call me Mrs, Smith,” “ But, Mrs. Smith, this is so sudden, I am hardly prepared to part with her. Ihave learned to love 9 to a certain degree, and I— ““There—there, now, pray let us have no such sen- ‘timentality as this. This is purely @ business mat- ‘ter. Iengaged you at such a price to do a certain work. You have done your part and I have paid you, Here, now, is the finalsum. Take it, and get the girl a | to accompany me at once. ith trembling hands Mrs, Osmond took the prof- fered money, ov ing “Yes, you are right. Lagreed to do the work and must not hesitate now, I am sorry, though, that I did not abuse the girl a great deal more than Ihave, and bring myself to hate her, Then the parting would be eeny. No one could hate Polly, though, she as so gentle, kind and goo—” “There—there! no more of it.” “No, you are right. But, Mrs, B— I mean Mrs. Smith, suppose she will not agree to go with you wil- ling] Pe “Then we must use some clever falsehood with ee r. Now listen. I have partly prepared her for ‘this hour, not knowing when it might come. I have her how poorlam, and have when I could find a suitable o outin service. Now is you area lady in gearch frequently explained to tote that some time, e time to have her go. - Of a maid.” “Yes, yes, I understand; a very good idea, too. e girl down and let me be off. Iam in a urry. , Mrs. Osmond stepped out into the hall and called, and Polly came tripping lightly down the stairs, “What do you want?” she asked; and then at ‘sight of the stranger present she stopped and bowed Per gity down, Polly,” Mrs, Osmond said kindly, ‘1 have something to = to you.” Polly obeyed, wondering not a little what could be ecoming. in _ * J have often told you,” Mrs, Osmond went on, ie“ how “to be done some time to give you achance to earn r We are, and that something would have rour own living. You are out of place in this house te roung and , and you must have achange. ge. ow this lady wants you to go and live with her. sj Py a ; - na i va TALS RSLS | TRS a DS hat SOE Broadway Billy’s Boodle. She is wealthy, y5u will have little or nothing to do, and you will have a fine home and fine clothes as long as you wish to stay.” ‘* Yes,”’ the strange woman added, ‘‘ you shall be as my own child.” “But when am I to go?”’ Polly asked: ** Now, at once,” was the woman’s reply. “I want you at once or not at all,” * It is so sudden—” ‘*There—there, now, I will not listen to a word of it. Lam very strange in my ways. Il want you now, I offer you a nice home, Do you want it or not?” ‘It shall be as you say, mamma,” to Mrs. Os- mond, “Then eee must go. Itis the best thing you can oo, Ithink, You can come and see me often, you now.” ' “Yes, as often as she likes,” from the strange wo- an. “Then I will go.” Twenty minutes later the carriage drove away, taking with it the woman it had brought, and pretty Polly Osmond. m CHAPTER III. A MIDNIGHT SECRET. Miss Maup ELMORE was, as we have stated, about seventeen years of age, and beautiful, She was the daughter of St. John Elmore, a wealthy and retired merchant of the great metropo- lis, and resided with her parents on one of the fash- ionable up-town streets. She was highly educated, was the belle of the cir- cle in which she moved, and was engaged to be married to Maurice Melvin, a descendant of one of the oldest families of the city. Maurice Melvin was cashier of one of the great banks of the city, the one, in fact,in which Broad- way Billy’s ‘“‘boodle’’—as the boy was pleased to call his fortune—was deposited; and he it was who knocked Billy * out of time,” as shown in our open- ing chapter. ° Melvin was a young man about twenty-eight, strong,. well built, and supple. He was good-looking too, and just the sort of man to fill the feminine eye and capture the feminine heart, with his easy man- hers and glib tongue. . On the afternoon of which we write, Miss Elmore had been down-town on some errand of business, and knowing the hour her lover usually left the bank, had managed to pass the bank about that time. What followed has been told, and as she and Melvin left the scene of excitement, the lover asked: “ What caused the trouble? What led the young rascal to speak to you?” : **He called me ‘Polly,’ and perhaps mistook me for some one else. Not very flattering to me, I must say.” % Possibly he was honest enough in it all, and really did mistake you for another, but I do not be- lieve it. Nature could not make another face like yours, so fair—so beautiful!’’ “There, there, now, that will do, if you please. I shall take sides with the rascal now, and believe he did mistake me for some one else.” “That cannot turn me from my idea of it. The world does not contain another face like yours.” Thus they talked, drifting from the subject and entering upon Cupid’s domain, until they arrived at a station of the Elevated railroad, where they board- eda train for up-town. That evening Maurice Melvin called at the Elmore residence. He had been engaged to Maud for several weeks, but no date had yet been fixed for the wedding to take place, And he was impatient, He was more impatient, in fact, than any one could guess, His fortune was spent; his account— or rather the bank's funds—were several thousand dollars short, and ruin and disgrace were staring him in the face. : y If he could urge an early marriage it would save him. Miss Elmore had money—a fortune in her own right, and once his wife he would be able to save himself. Within one month at most she must be his, So he decided, During the evening he brought the question up, -and it was freely discussed by him, Maud, and Mr. and Mrs. Elmore, And so warmly, so strongly, did the young cashier plead his cause that the pa was set for the twen- tieth of that month, then about two weeks away. Melvin had gained point, and was—saved! Saved?—Could he have foreseen the events of that night he would have trembled for his cause. n order now to narrate those events in proper sequence, we must return to Polly Osmond and fol- low her to her new home, The carriage, as we have described, was a closed one, a style of vehicle not frequently seen, and in it Polly could gain no knowledge of the direction she was being taken, ' He: strange companion had little to say. At last the carriage stopped, the driver sprung down and opened the door, and the strange woman said, kindly: “Here we will get out, my dear. Please draw your vail down over your face before we do so.”” Polly obeyed, and then the two got out and the carriage drove away. | ; They were evidently in a fashionable or aristooratic Street, as the girl concluded, after a brief glance around, but in nape Ears of the city she knew not. The houses were all large, and of the most stately and ctable appearance. Polly but one brief momaent to look about her \ Lon ae ——— 2 a A ARR OS ent rik da Se 16. OhA> OPES TAG eT re % though, for the woman led her quickly up the steps rai one of the finest of the houses, and on into the ouse. . There everything went to indicate that it was a house of wealth, and it was the finest place Polly had ever seen. The woman led her up-stairs to a handsome sit- ting-room, and there bade her throw aside her vail, hat and wrap, and make herself at home, “Your duties will be very light,” she said. ‘In fact, you will have almost maine | todo. I want you more for company than for anyt ing else,” “T shall strive to please you, m’am,” Polly an- swered, “and will do whatever I am told,” “Very well, that is all I require. You have not yet learned my, name, have you?” “No, m’am.” “You may call me Mrs. Smith. That is my name,” ‘Yes, m'am,” “ And your name, I understand, is Polly Osmond, is it not?’ ‘*That is my name.” “Well, really, I do not like ‘Polly’ at all; and ‘Osmond ‘does not please my ear. Have be any objection to my giving you a new name while you are with me?” This seemed to Polly a rather ridiculous idea, but she felt that she must humor the woman in any whim she might have, and answered: “No objec on whatever, m’am; call me anything you wish.” ‘Very well then, let me see what it shall be. Now I like the name of ‘Maud’ ever so much. and I guess I will call you that. Maud—Maud what? Let me think. It must be risen. fon ceteris | and aristocratic, and pretty, too, at shall it be? Ah! Thave it! I shall call you Maud Elmore.” “That is a very pretty name,” Polly remarked. **T am glad you like it, and now do not forget that that is to be your name.” “TIT shall not forget.”’ “Indeed, I must impress it upon your mind strongly. You will find this a house of mysiery, but not of danger. You are about to enter upon a new life. Did I not promise to care for you as my own child? Then to-morrow when you awake you will find yourself the petted favorite of a household. Do not be surprised at anything you may see or hear, and—"’ ‘*Oh! Mrs. Smith, you alarm me!” “Tut—tut! There is nothing to be alarmed at. Only bear this one thing in mind: Do not for one moment forget that your name is Mavd Elmore. Your real name must not be mentioned. Do you understand ?”” “Yes. m’am.”’ “Very well. You may not see me to-morrow, but on no account must you ask forme, I shall not be near you, perhaps, but so long as you claim the name I have given you, you are safe. What is your name now?” **Maud Elmore.” “That is right; do not forget it. will say no more upon the subject. And now we Only bear in mind what I have told you. You may now amuse yourself with the books and pictures here until we are called to tea.” Billy was almost frightened. What was the mean- ing of all this mystery? She wished herself safely back in the old tenement, She took up a book and tried to read, but her thoughts were too busy, and it was a great relief when Mrs, Smith invited her down to tea. At the table—she and Mrs, Smith were the only ersons present—she was addressed as Miss Elmore, in the presence of the one old servant, and to that name she responded, About ten o’clock Mrs. mith conducted her _ stairs to a handsomely-furnished bedroom, whic she told her was to be hers.) “Weare alone to-night,” the woman said, “but to-morrow the rest of my family will be here. You will behold strange faces then. Do not forget your name—Maud Elmore.” And so Polly was left to retiré and dream about her strange adventures. 4 About an hour after midnight the strange ‘ Mrs. Smith ’ appeared in the hall with a small lan*p in hand, and ascended to the top floor of the house. There the ceiling was low, and a short flight of steps led up to the scuttle, Ascending these steps, the woman unfastened the scuttle and silently moved it a little ways open. Then she descended again, put down her lamp, and waited. Tu about ten minutes, perhaps, the seuttle was silently opened to its 1 extent by unseen hands, and then the black face of an old negress appeared at the opening. * Am it all right?’ she Sepere. _ The womap below answe with a nod, and mo- tioned her to come down. The negress obeyed, and when she reached the floor the strange woman inquired: ‘Ts it all right over there?” ‘““Yes,”’ was the reply, ‘it is all right.” 4 “Good! I think we shall be successful. Let us asten,”’ Quickly but, silently they descended to the next floor, where Polly Osmond slept, Going toa large room in the rear, thence into a bath-room, there a door was unlocked and both silently entered Polly’s room. } The beautiful girl lay sleepi ac aed wane: handed pag re ) to the old es woman Cie) BA bagee.y then drew a small bottle from her ts. e = RO hg OF O.. soundly, all uncon- | her ket and saturated her handkerchief with its oap- se s BSNS & 02452 eee. acti sol Ey ea ae eds
Page 4
+ Js ae = ee Iai Polly Osmond down, and disap ae iit Ry vt « Broadway Billy’s Boodle. es ne | The odor it emitted proclaimed it to be chloro- ‘orm. Having prepared the handkerchief, the woman returned the bottle to her pocket, and then ad- ‘vanced to the bed and held the handkerchief over the girl’s face. Ina moment her design was accomplished, and the girl was ina sleep from which it would not be easy to awaken her. ckly, then, she was wrapped in a‘ large shawl, lifted from the bed, and carried from the room, Out into the hall her bearers went, up the stairs to the next floor, and thence on up the short flight of steps and out upon the roof, What could be their object? The lamp was left behind, of course, and the scut- tle-door was partly closed, and then they lifted up the unconscious girl and carried her away across the roots of other houses. Finally, at the sixth house from their starting poiut, they stopped. Here, too, the scuttle stood partly open. Opening it wide, the old negress egornded, having ared, LEE eee Ina moment she came back, whispered that all was right, and taking the girl up in her strong arms, tet a ae earried her down into the house, closely followed by the mysterious woman. The plan of this house proved to be the same as that from which they had just come, Cautiously, noiselessly, they bore their fair burden down the stairs to the next floor, and then the ne- gress opened a door and they entered a room. This room was a fac-simile—if the word will apply —of the one from which they had just taken the sleeping, Fit, and upon the bed lay a veritable flesh- and-blood likeness of the girl herself, This was the room of Maud Elmore, and the sleeper was she. Quickly the chloroform was applied to Miss El- . more ag it had been to Polly Osmond, and then she was lifted from the bed. Then the two girls were exchanged, the one for . the other, The clothing of one was put on the other, even to rings and ear-rings. Not an article be- prea to one was left upon the person of the other. When this was accomplished, then Polly Osmond was placed in the bed and left there, and Maud }lmore was carried out of the room, out of the house, and to the room in the other house from : which Polly bad been taken. oe el ae fy eet =. Sie A ete Sep ; stairs, t “ then he dashed into the rooms occupied by Then the old negress returned to the Elmore resi- dence, the scuttle-doors of both ‘houses were closed and secured as before, and the night rolled on apace, bid bi CHAPTER IV. BILLY'S BANK-BOOK. “Sweet pertaters! J smell smok. |” Needless to say the words were uttered by Broad- way on his pet exclamation proclaims that, it was he. It was long past the midnight hour, and silence reigned in the old tenement, ut the silence was soon rudely broken. Barely had Bi'ly uttered the words we quote, apringing out of bed.as he did so, when the loud ery of “Fire! fire!” rung through the house from one of the lower floors. Y Instantly all was wild cgnfusion. - Doors and windows were flung open wide, cries for help were heard, and with wild fury the flames burst forth with a roar like the sea. Once the windows were opened a draught was » ereated, and the old house was doomed. Broadway Billy took in the situation at a glance. “Come, mom!” he shouted, throwing open his door. ‘‘ git inter yer clothes in two winks, or ye’re agoner! No time fer foolin’,I tell ye! It’s git right up an’ hump yerself ter gitthar!” “Oh! we are lost, we are lost!” cried Mrs. ‘ Weston, as she ran to the window, wringing her hands, “Hang me if you won't be, if ye don’t git a move on ye!” Billy yelled. “What be ye standin’ there for? D’ye wantter be made up interroast? Git yer clothes on!” his started his good'mother to action. filly had already dressed himself, and in his best clothes, putting his older suit onoverthem, He was quick to think and quick to act, “Now fer that bank-book!’ he exclaimed. “I mean ter save that, you bet! Where did ye put it, mom? That represents my boodle in th’ bank.” Mrs. Weston indicated where it was, and Billy had it safe into his pocket in an instant. “Come! mom, come/’' he cried. as he ran out into the hall, which was now full of black and | blinding smoke, and glanced down at the sea of 1 flame below; ‘if ye git cornered here it'll make ye curl yer toes, you bet ome! don’t try ter git th’ stove under yer arm nor th’ lookin’glass inter yer pocket, fer it can't be did! There ain’t no time ter monkey around now, / tell ye! We've got ter— Sect per-taters |” ; With that exclamation the boy sprung down the four steps at a stride, to the floor below, and rs. mond | " sy 1 he called, “ Polly, where are ye?” \ no reply. Billy had. matches, and lichting one he made a hasty but thorough search of the rooms, peer eet ‘olly nor Mrs. Osmond was there. ot out, thank eR ty ae rs mother. Neither “They've ' i t x : y a nits ei “phi et TAS “Yer. I’m ready now,” was the reply, and Mrs. Weston appeared with both arms full of things she had gathered up in her haste and excitement. | At that moment, with a loud crash, the stairs be- low fell, and their retreat was cut off. Nor were they the only ones, Another family on the same floor, on the opposite side of the hall, con- sisting of a widow and three children, were in the same dangerous predicament, - ““There’s no time ter be lost,” cried Billy, “ we've got ter take t rth’ roof! Come, mom! Come, Mrs. Hall!” and catching up one of the latter’s children the boy started for the roof. He was quickly followed. It was now the only hope they had, As soon as all were up, Billy closed the trap, and then he ran to the edge and looked down upon the roof of the next house. : That house was about twenty feet lower than the big tenement, and firemen were already upon its roof, “ Hello!” Billy shouted, ‘‘any o' you fellers got a ladder about ye? If ye have, jes: run it up here. There’s a hull fambly o’ folks up here, an’ they’re makin’ th’ worst kick ye ever heard tell of ’gainst bein’ roasted.” “You'll have to jump,” came back the reply; ‘we can’t get a ladder here in time.” “Well, can’t ye get a bed out there for us ter jump on?” “Yes; hold on half a minute.’ and one of the men disappeared into the house below, soon return- ing with a straw bed which he laid down in about the right position. , “Now,” he shouted, ‘come down!” It was now almost as light as day, and those upon the roof could be plainly seen. igs were now close to the edge, the fire having already burst through the scuttle. Billy turned at once to Mrs. Hall and told her to jump, but she would nt do so till her children were safe, nor could the latter be induced to leave her; so there was but one thing to do. Catching up the oldest child, & boy of ten, Billy ulled him to the edge, shouted to the fireman be- ow to catch him, and pushed him over. Down he went, and the firemen, with the straw bed, caught him safely. Then the other two were disposed of in like man- ner. ‘* Now, who next?” Billy shouted. ‘*Come, one or t'other o’ we women take th’ leap fer life!’ Mrs. Hail was the first to go. Anxiety to be once more with her children lent the necessary courage, and sbe jumped. She. too, landed in safety. “Now, mom,” cried Billy, “‘ your turn now! One, two, three—an’ a go! Come, now, it’s no time ter pow-wow about it; it’s a clean case o” life an’ death !”’ ‘* You go first, my son; I— “ Sweet pertaters! d’ye want ter be cooked, then? Jump, I tell ye!” The frightened woman advanced to the edge, made a move 2s though to obey, and then backed out. “ Oh! I can’t, I can’t!” she cried, “I—” “Th? dickens ye can’t!’ cried Billy, and with a entle push he sent her so far forward that she lost er balance and had to go. She, too, was safely caught; but the things she had had in her arms. not the least important of hha was a wash-board, went flying in all direc- tions, : Billy was just on the point of following, when sud- denly a strong hand grabbed him and pulled him back and down upon the roof. One quick glance revealed who it was, “Let go of me, Abrer Hawk!” Billy commanded. “Do you want to be the cause of our losing our lives? Let go, Tsay!” “Ha! ha! ba!” the other laughed. ‘‘There won't but one of us lose his life, an’ that one won’t be me |” Abner Hawk was a young man of twenty. He was good-looking and clever, but a rascal at heart. He was in love with Polly Osmond, but had found in Billy, boy though he was, so formidable a rival that he had had but little chance or hope of win- ning her. He had often vowed that he would put Billy out of oe ny and it would seem that this was an attempt 0 do so : But if he had found in Billy a formidable rival, he now found him a dangerous combatant as well. Hawk had the advantage at the start, He, creeping up bebind Billy, had pulled him down and then placed bimself on top, But Billy did not relish this order of things, and made every effort to throw bis enemy off. Meantime, no one below could account for the boy’s sudden disappearance. They could not see him. nor had they seen Hawk pull him backward, and all haste was made by the firemen to get a lad Jer to the roof to climb to his rescue. : And haste was necessary, too, for the fire was fast eat ng its way through the roof of the big tenement, and the house next to it, the one on which the fire- men stood, was already burning. No time was to be lost. No one realized it more than did Broadway Billy himself, and he fought desperately. “Let me up, you fool!” he panted. “ We'll both be burned alive if ye don’t. Even if ye git th’ best o’ me ye won't dare ter ‘scape, fer they'll rest ye fer my murder.” u “Don’t let that worry ye, my pippin,”’ retorted Hawk. “I'll swear! tried hard ter save ye. D'ye know what I’m goin’ ter do with ye?" ” “You won’t do much if I once git half a show at: ye, ye coward?” : “An’ that ye won’t git. I'm goin’ ter drag ye to th’ scuttle there an’ pitch ye down, neck an’ heels, I've warned ye ter stand clear o’ me many a time, i Sa poke around, an’ now ye’ve got ter pay er it.’ ; These words were exchanged all in one brief moment, and then the young villain partly rose up» in order to oH a better hold of his victim. Instantly Billy took advantage of the moment, made a sudden spring, rolled over under his antag-- onist and regained his feet. But Hawk was upon him again at once, and Billy had to fight with desperate fury. ; It.is folly to give a man’s strength to a boy hero,. but we must say that in this instance Abner Hawk found about all he could handle, Billy was quick as: lightning, and every move he madé was made with a purpose. he struggle had now lasted about two minutes, and both breathed heavily. Presently Billy’s foot slipped, and in an instant his enemy had him once more upon his back, ‘Now, curse ye!" he panted, “ J’ll fix ye!” But he reckoned without giving full weight to Billy’s side of the question. As he fell, by some chance the ct) Be hand came in contact with a piece of brick, and grasping it, he- watched for an oppertunity to use it with effect, The chance soon came, As Hawk uttered the words above, he drew back his right arm to deal Billy a blow in the face. The blow came, but Billy had dodged his head away, and the rascal’s fist struck the hard boards. Them he, Billy, as quick as a flash, threw up his right. hand_and dealt the rascal a terrific blow on the side of his head with the brick, act ended the struggle, for Hank fell over insen- sible. By this time the whole top of the house was ablaze, and Billy would have been fully justified in leaving his enemy to his fate. But Billy had other ideas of right and wrong, and laying hold of the fellow by the feet, he dragged him to the edge of the roof, shouted to those below, and pushed him over. Down he went. falling partly upon the straw bed, and Pig picked up at once and carried to a place of safety. The crowds, believing that Billy had been back again into the burning house, sent up a wild cheer, and in the midst of it the boy jumped down from bis: perilous position, And he was not a moment too/soon, for barely had he and the firemen, who, by the way, were just: ge up a ladder to go to the rescue, when Fill rst reappeared; barely had they made good their escape from the lower house when the old tenement: fell, carrying the smaller house with it. — ' Those old buildings, as dry as tinder, burn rapidly, and in no other class of buildings is fire more to be dreaded. Billy was quite some time in finding his mother, but at last he did find her, and she, poor soul! was: running aimlessly about, calling for her boy, and pressing a broken frying-pan to her breast. t “ Sweet ertaters' mom, ye saved somethin’, didn’t: ye!” the boy cried, when he found her. “ Guess: ye’d better throw it away, though. It ain't much of a start to’rd beginnin’ housekeepin’ ag’in.” Billy and his mother had friends living in another gicet and to them they went and were kindly re- ceived. * We'll stay with ye till mornin’.” Billy said, ‘‘an* then we'll strike out an’ see about settin’ up another: domestic altar. I’ve got a little boodle in th’ bank, an’ I'll draw out enough ter make good our loss, an’— S-reel per-ta-fers ey In mentioning his bank account the boy natura oon his hand to his pocket to assure himself that sok was there, and to his horror he found that it was gone. Without a word he wheeled and darted out of the house like a shot from a gun, CHAPTER V, SCORES ONE FOR BILLY, “Sweet pertaters! I don’t know as muck as f did last year, an’ I didn’t know any too much then. I'd orter be tied to a mule’s tail an’ have both ears kicked off. I don’t know what I’m good fer, any- how. I'm too dumb ter drive pigs. I’ve got ter make a better showin’ than this, or P'!l lose th’ con- fidence of Inspector Br— Hello! What's th’ mat- ter?” Billy was running along t’e street at good speed, muttering his thoughts half-aloud, when suddenly a pore thrust his arm and club out in front of im from behind a big telegraph pole, and brought him to a stop. ‘ f “ What are you running for?’ the officer demand~ ed. in response to the boy’s exclamative inquiry. “Cause I want ter git thar,” Billy replie , briefly. ‘Get where? Where are you going?” - “I’m goin’ fer a doctor, post haste, with a special stamp in th’ upper right band corner, Please don’t detain th’ mail.” > Bla ‘ ; “Where are you going for bim? Do you know where he lives?” : “Sweet pertaters! d’ye s’pose I'd be goin’ ahead — under full steam an’ all sail set if I didn't know where I was goin’? Come, old hogs, time is boodle ter me, an’ ’m ina rush.” / “ Answer my question, then, and I'll let yougo on. i what question?” “The one I just asked.’ { **What was it? You'll have ter ax it | it? » fer my memory ain’t longer than yer little finger. ”
Page 5
¥ 4 Pe he ok | ® x ah “Well, I'll tell ye. Ye see T've been tryin’ to be a - fittle sweet on Polly fera long tall but she wouldn’t Gocean's me ee Pore hs her sh t there, an’ I at kum to r she wasn agmade up my mind she was in love with somebody ! @ ” ' ree “8h #8he oe iN * wants ter know too much. §’pos _ * No, not if ye don’t Broadway Billy’s Boodle, 4“ I asked you what doctor you're going for?” “I’m goin’ fer Dr. Strange, No, — Centre street; office hours eight to ten an’ two to four—when he eae ter be in. Any further infermation I kin z ve?” ‘No, I guess not; you may go on.” Billy had given the correct name and address of a doctor whom he happened to know, and the officer was satisfied and allowed him to continue on his way. The boy darted off at once, and was soon out of ° wight. **Plicemen is all right,’’ he grumbled, ‘‘ but the ney 2 e I'd been red-hot after a sneak who had jest robbed me 0’ my gold watch or diming studs, if I had sech things; he'd got away sure. Sweet pertaters! ain't | after a sneak, though? Ain’t I after th’ p’ison reptile that’s ot my bank-book! Ginger bread and hurricanes! t makes me grind my teeth in rage ter think of it! .Abuer Hawk wasn’t layin’so much fer me as he was fer my boodle, an’ I'll bet a cow on it, Wonder why Icouldn’t think of it afore? I’m after him, though, an’ if Idon’t make him sick it'll be ’cause I can’t, that’s all!” And on he ran, in the direction of the late fire. When he arrived upon the scene, nothing re- mained of the old tenement but a blazing pile of ruins and rubbish on the spot where it had so lately stood. A great crowd was still there, held back by police- ‘men, and Billy found it necessary to go wa $y a full block in order to gain the point he was aiming for. When he had made the detour and come around on the opposite side of the fire, he entered a saloon which was still open it was a miserable den, and its doors were usually open to its depraved and lawless frequenters nearly all night. 2 Billy knew the place, and knew that there his enemy, Abner Hawk, spent most of his time. The rascal had come to, shortly after Billy had ‘pitched him from the roof of the old tenement, and the boy had heard him ask the firemen to take him to this saloon. The place was well filled, more so than usual, sowing to the fire, and all was bustle and excite- ment, “Say, mister,’ said Bill ‘fe addressing the bar- ‘tender, ‘wasn’t Hawkey brought in here a few minutes ago? I want ter see him.” 4 “Yes, he’s there in th’ back room,” was the re- ply. “He's got a cut in th’ head.’ “That so? How did he git that?” ‘Says a timber struck him at th’ fire.” ‘Did, eh? Well, that’s too bad. Sorry fer him. ‘T'll step in an’ see him.” ; ‘Yes, you’ll find him right in there.” Billy passed into the rear room, where he found “Mr, Hawk seated in a chair and holding a wet towel ito his head. He looked to be in anything but a jolly temper, winless we say he was in a jolly bad one, Billy took one glance at iim, and then said: ‘Hello! Hawkey, old rocks, how goes it?” The young villain looked quickly up, and then sprung to his feet with a ery of rage. “Curse ye!” he cried, “tare you here?” “Reckon I am,” Billy answered; * that’s th’ way appearances +eems ter p’int, anyhow.” ~ “Well, I'll settle with ye afore ye git out ag’in, so j-st make up yer mind to thu. s “T wouldn’t if I was you, Hawkey. e “Ye wouldn’t! Why wouldn't ye? “It might not be healthy.” ie ‘‘D’ye mean ter say ye re armed? **Come fer me once, an’ see,”’ __ Billy’s words and manner seemed to indicate that the had a revolver or two somewhere about his per- | son, and all ready for use. Really be hadn’t anything more dangerous than a «small pocket-knife, Hawkey settled back in his chair. “* What d’ye want?’ he asked. “I've come ter see ye,” Billy replied. ‘“‘I heard ge got hit on th’ head with a stick o' timber at th’ fire, an’ bein’ as ye’re an old friend I thought I'd have ter callon ye an’ inquire about yer state 0 health.” Hawkey was fairly purple with rage. “Shut up an’ git out o’ here,” he cried, “or I'll ‘brain- ye!” both “Don't you try it!” Billy exclaimed, “If ye do cye'll be sorry, sure pop. Tvere’ll be, mourning at your tepee, sure.” Hawkey was the only era in the room, and Billy could afford to bully him a little. _ * Well, what d’ye want ter see mefer? I hain’t ‘got nothin’ o’ yourn, have I? Have ye lost any- cs ? y y * Not as I knows of,” Billy answered, now sure “that the fellow Aud his book; “i've come ter see ye _'* son biz. * Well, spit it out then, an’ let’s hear what it is.” .** There won't nobody hear us, will there?” haller it at me. The rascal was now a little interested and curious sto know what the a, had to say. Billy did not keep him in suspense. ’ “You knows Polly Osmond, I reckon, don’t ye?” e said. “Yes; what of her?’ She’ to me, but when she?” nee afact.” . ‘* And who is that somebody else?”’ "You." e’r’ born.”’ “I don’t believeit! She never used me half decent, an’ often wouldn’t look at me when I'd speak to her. I tell ye I don’t believe it!’’ *Can’t help it whether ye do or not. I'll bet acow it ¢s so, an’ now I'll prove it to ye. D’ye know where Polly is?’’ : “No, do you?” ‘* Allow meter smile, She wasn’t burned up, that’s sure; an’ I know of a little lady who has jest been given shelter in th’ house of a friend over on Orosby street, who wants ter see Mr. Abner Hawk,” The young villain was upon his feet at once, **Come,” he said, '** let’s go. I'm satisfied now. I see through it all. She’s been a-playin’ with my re- gard all along, an’ now when sbe needs a friend she sends fer me. Bully! Come on, an’ we'll go at once ”’ ‘Hold yer hosses jest a minute now, an’ don’t Jet ‘em git away from ye. I’m not done chinnin’ yet.” “Well, tell me what else ye’ve got ter say then, an’ be quick about it, too.” ‘““Well, I want ter say this: I didn’t come here ter tell ye this ’cause I love ye, Mr. Hawk, not by a good deal; an’ I’m jest as much yer enemy as I was afore, Still, I’m goin’ ter do th’ square thing an’ take ye ter th’ house where th’ little aay I mentioned is awaitin’. After that, then we’re on th’ war-path ag’in as big as Injuns. You know me, I reckon.” “Yes, I know ye,I know ye to be one of the sharpest boys in ail New York?’ “Oh! no | ain’t, not by a hatful! I’m too slow to drive pigs. Come, though, if ye'’re all ready, an’ we'il go,” The rascal was ready—even anxious to be off, and together they set out. ** How’s yer head where tbat ‘stick o’ timber’ hit ye?” Billy inquired as they walked along, The only reply he got was a growl. They continued on in silence then, and Broadway Billy conducted his enemy straight to the house where he and his mother had been given shelter. This, too, was a tenement-house. When they entered Billy said: “Now, Hawkey, you stand right here in th’ hall till I iy up an’ git a light an’ tell °em you're here.” ; a right,” the fellow agreed, and Billy hastened up-stairs, He had been absent from the house but about ten minutes or so, and all were up yet. Making a hasty explanation, and asking the man whose room he was in to assist him in his plan, he caught up the lamp and sctepped out and told his enemy to come up. : Billy’s friend, the man who had given him and his mother shelter, was a car-driver, a big, muscular man, and he stationed himself behind the door with a stout club in hand. Up came Mr. Hawk, and entered the room with- out a shadow of er sen He soon found, though, that he was in a trap. Billy closed the door behind him at once, and then the big car-driver lifted his club and exclaimed: ‘*Look here! you rascal, you! if you've got a bank-b>ok as belongs to this here lad, jest trot it out!”’ Hawkey was thunderstruck. giared at Billy, and cried: “This is a trap, curse ye! Ye lied ter me! Ye said Polly was here, an’—” “Hold on, now,’ Billy admonished, ‘‘ye’re a-get- tin’ too fast. I didn’t say nothin’ of th’ sort. I said there was a ‘little lady * here, an’ there she is—my respected mother,” “Oh! but I'll fix ye fer this! T’ll—” “You're all blow. Come, out with that book, or meen be another stick o’ timber a-fallin’ onto yer ead.”’ scat ain’t got no book o’ yourn, How could I get “Tl mighty soon see whether ye have or not,” de- clared the eeeiiver. “TH ebartlr ye; and he moved a step nearer. ‘ Abner Hawk saw that he was in a tight place, with no chance to escape, and he knew, whether the others did or not, “that he had the boy’s book; so eet it from his pocket he threw it upon the oor. ‘* Now let me out o’ here,”” he demanded. Billy picked up bis book, glanced at it to see that it was all right, and then said: “ All right, my hearty, git /” and he opened the door for the crestfallen rascal to retire. “You'll pay for this, you will,” the latter threat- ened, as he hastened to make good his escape. * All right,” Billy called after him; “if you can play me any better trick, fo ahead. Look out an- other ‘stick o’ timber’ don’t hit ye, though.” Next day, as soon as the bank was open, Pilly and his mother called there and drew out two hundred dollars, and having already found rooms, Mrs. Weston set out to buy the necessary furniture to be- gin housekeeping anew. : Meanwhile the origin of the fire in the old Center street tenement remained a myste The firemen, however, had made discoveries which led them to believe that it wasthe work of an incendiary. And such, though they could not prove it, was the fact—a fact w bas much to do with the progress of our romance. He turned pale, CHAPTER VI. n POLLY OSMOND’S PERPLEXITY. WE are im tient to return to the Elmore residence and follow the adventures of pretty Polly Osmond. What a strange position she was placed in! Can the reader imagine a ‘situation stranger? She, a beautiful girl, the very likeness of the true Maud El- more in face and form, and yet so unlike her in edu- cation and social refinement, to be: suddenly trans- ferred into a new life—a new personality. Maud Elmore had been reared in the very lap of luxury; Polly Osmond in all the poverty of a down- town tenement. Imagine, if you can, the results of such an un- heard-of complication, Here was pretty Poily, the child of the tenement, with only a common school apoloEy for an educa- tion, suddenly tranformed into Miss Maud: Elmore, Red educated, accomplished and wealthy society e, And it has been impressed upon ber mind that she must claim the name of Maud Elmore as her own. What must b> the outcome? When Polly awoke it was broad day. The sun was: shining into her windows, and in another room could be heard the voice of some one singing, singing mer- rily but not loudly. olly recognized the room at once—or sup ? she did—as the one into w ich the strange Mrs. Smith had shown her on the previous night. It will be remembered that the room in the other house was like this one in its general appearance and appointments—in fact, as we have said; was al- most a fac-simile, Polly sat up in bed and looked around for a mo- ment, and then slipped quietly out upon the floor. The first thing to attract her notice to herself was the richness of her night-robe. She examined it with both admiration and sur- prise. How had it bors gat on her, and she sound asleep and her door locked? She could not understand it, Then her eyes fell m the several rings on her Spgers, one of which Was a brilliant and costly dia- mond. What could it mean? mentally termed it? Was she in a household of lunatics, or was she dreaming? No, she was awake, and it must havé been some peculiar whim of the strange Mrs, Smith to prepare the surprise for her. While she was still ecruiring her rings the singing in the other room ceased, and the door leading to the bath-room opened. A young woman, Miss E'more’s maid, entered. She was good-looking, stylishly dressed, and only her jaunty lace cap and snowy apron gave evidence of her rank in the household. “* G@ood-morning.”’ she’said. with a bow; ‘‘ you are up a little earlier than usual.” Miss Elmore would at once have given some witty reply, ana then followed it with directions concern- ing her toilet. ‘olly did nothing of the kind. She said good-morning ne gi bowed to the maid respectfully, and then stood an looked at ber. The maid, much disconcerted, knew not what to make of this, and an awkward pause followed. j y — I prepare your bath?’ she presently in- quired. “Must I take a bath?” Polly asked, innocently. The maid stood and stared at her in amazement. “T asked you if I must take a bath,” Polly re- peated. * [—I—it is just as the wish,”’ the maid stammer- ed. ‘I will prepare it if you wish.” Polly, “do not doso. Ido not bathe very frequently, and I may take cold. MayI ask who you are?” | : - heavens!"" the maid cried, clasping her bands and turning pale, ‘‘ what has come over you, Miss Elmore?” This recalled to Polly’s mind all that the strange Mrs, Smith had said. What could all this mystery mean? She had promised to answer to the name of Maud Elmore and to none other, and Mrs, Smith had pa ay intimated that her personal safety depended on it. Whatever the secret was, she must play her part, “Nothing has come over me, I guess,” she said, trying to force a smile. “Then why do you ask who I am? and why do you. aay you are not used to bathing? You must know that I am your maid, and that I assist you at your bath regularly every morning.” “Tt must have slipped my mind,” t ** Are you not well, Miss Elmore?” “Tam quite well, I thank you.” “Then hada do you act so unlike your usual self? You me.” Polly Osmond realized her position. By some means or other she had been put inthe true Elmore’s place, This was Elmore’s maid. Where, then, was Miss Elmore? Was it possible that she could resemble her so } ae that her own maid could not detect the fraud? Then came the great question—what was she todo? Must she obey the woman who had brought her there, and c on the Sepemaon 4s well as she could? Or should she expoee it all? She knew not what todo, She was completely in the dark, On the one had she knew not what harm she would be doing to the real Miss Elmore, who- ever she was, by carrying on the deception; and om the other hand she knew not what harm n be- fallher if she revealed the truth. She wasin de- cidedly a most unpleasant quandary. _ She thought it all over quickly, and resolved to play the role for that day at least.’ Indéed, she had Promised to do so. Surely it would come out all MED. rice dati If?” she a ed. i do, Toon — and did T riot Thew res you as well as Why such folly--as she € you are not Miss Elmore at ali, — i aud ‘ ne
Page 6
; Boodle. y ny of RE FRO ues Cy SL Sa a ’ T Oh! Iseeit now! You are merely acting. What Then the maid went and called Mr. Elmore, and ae an actress you would make!” sent one of the servants for the family doctor. ae Thu humorous side of the strange affair now Mr. Elmore soon ap ed. j. revealed itself, and Polly had to smile. “What is wrong?” he demanded. _ “ Is Maud ill?” ee 1 ‘Then you do not want your bath?” the maid in- “She is worse than ill, I fear,’ Mrs. Elmore re- eet 1ired. plied. “Speak to her.”’ : ae * No, I guess not.” ‘What is it, my child?” Mr. Elmore said kindly, eh #5 locked the door. 1s “The doctor is blind * he ceclared, ae a “T saw that you were only egreeing with him to- © avoid argument, and desired me to do the same,’” > remarked Mrs, E}more. mes hk “Yes, and 1 had a purpose in it, too,” Ohh “And that purpose— ; iM Was to let the deception be carried on.” +f “ And your purpose in that pane “To give our detective all the more chance to fer- ret out the secret and restore Maud to us.” A aie eR “T see, and I agree with you.” - ‘J “My ehild.” said Mr, Elmore then, addressing. — Polly, ‘you did not hear the doctor’s opinion of _ you, did you?” Res, “No, sir,” Polly replied; “T did not.” sl Rad oo “He believes that you are Maud Elmore, and that. you have gone crazy from too much reading,” « And do you believe that?” PAG a Ut “No, I do not.” “T assure you, sir, that lam no more crazy thar
Page 7
ay —— en ep oe a Se oe = , ’ Sat a as pe 14) '. “There is more than you can ch afternoon. ject, but will see what Billy had to say about it in « - ae) y geen ‘* Wonder where she’s gone to so sud- ‘Hang me it 1 . (Enspecto twirling his ey we you are, though this e ence is almost enough to “make me doubt my sanity.” : guess hidden in this affair, and I and Mrs. Elmore have a request to ask of you.” ** What is it, sir?” ; “Tt is this: That you will act, to the best of your ability, the part of a crazy girl. Do nothing violent, you understand, but act well the part the doctor has given you, oan you play the piano?” “*No, sir. “ Can you speak French?” “No, sir,” with a laugh. “Then you must act as though you have sud- denly forgotten nearly all you ever knew. Can you do this?” ‘*T think s0, sir.”’ é “You see, whoever it was brought you here, they at the same time spirited Maud away; and in this way you can aid us to find her.” 4 oy will do as well as I can, sir. ‘Remember the caution given you by the myste- rious Mrs. Smith, and claim the name of Maud El- more as your own.” : “Yes, sir, I understand, and will do as well as I can.” “And you,” turning to the maid, “keep well this secret. I hear of your having told any one, I will discharge you instantly.” ’ i ‘“*T shall not breathe it, sir. I will act as though it were really so. And, in fact, I am more than half- inclined to believe the doctor is right, for how could two persons look so much alike?” “We will not mi § to ar that now. The fact is before us, and it is this: Our daughter, Maud Elmore, has suddenly become insane. When we leave this room it will be made known to the house- hold and to the public. Act well your part.” Mrs. Elmore followed her husband from the room then, and they went to a room below, where they repeated the words which open this chapter. ** Can it be true?” Mrs, Elmore questioned. And her husband answered: * It certainly must be so.” They, then, had some secret event of the past which conn with the present. So it would seem. But what could this secret be? We must push on and learn it. : The news of Maud Elmore’s sad misfortune was soon known to the entire household, and was soon carried beyond the doors, d And sad news it was to those who were her friends in that charmed circle, ‘‘society,” and startling news it was to all, Polly kept close to her room, and those who called to see her were startled at the change. In the mean time, Mr. Elmore had telegraphed to Police Headquarters for a detectiveyand one had been sent. : He was a short, dark man, with a peculiar habit of eternally swinging his eye-glasses round and round in his Jeft hand. ; He was closeted for an hour or more with Mr. and Mrs, Elmore, had a brief interview with Polly, and then went away, and the last seen of him as he coe ee was still swinging his eye-glasses round and round. if And so this mysterious case rested, That it was a mysterious case, no one could deny; and it was mysterious in more ways than one. re was nd? Who was the strange “ Mrs. Smith?’ What was the secret held back by Mrs, Elmore and her husband? What—but we pause. “All these things remained to be ex, lained, and the one destined to lift the vail was—Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. CHAPTER VIII. SHADOWING A SHADOWER. “ Sweet pertaters, cart-wheels, tom cats, tin-cans an’ firecrackers!” This went to indicate that Broadway Billy was laboring under some great mentai excitement. And he was. He was just returning to Broadway, having been home, to his new home, to get his lunch and see how his mother was making out in starting a new series as it were in the line of housekeeping. While there he had asked her "5 she had seen Polly Osmond since the fire. | She had not, of course, nor had she seen Mrs, Osmond, And then she went on to tell him, for the first time, about Polly’s going away on the previous owledge of some ted Polly Osmond "We need not repeat their conversation on the sub- uy. Sats ‘em all!” he added to his rather prolix ' den? Strange she didn’t even say she was goin’, Guess I ain't as solid with Polly ast noaans Tom don't begin ter feel a mighty stro interest in Polly, an’ th’ more since seein’ that other gal yesterday. Wonder who she was? There's one way ter find out, I s’pose, an’ that is ter lay low fer that dude at th’ hank that knocked me over fone hgh Lordy! but that was a bad one on me, must square th’ count somehow. Why, I'd be eiernally disgraced if that should reach th’ ears of r Br— Hellos! stranger, d’ye want a Billy had just come out Broadway, and was x “he ward the post-office when he vas accost- tig: es pera eer Was & be dark who was ‘The ng! ts) man, e-glasses around and around in his ers. _ We have seen him before, ST Sod 1h e tr mer ye) 3 ae nes Ne Broadway Billy’s Boodle. | As Billy put the question he unslung his box, a new one, and prepared for business. . The stranger shook his head, though, and contin- uing to twirl his glasses, asked: “My lad, is your name William Weston? and are you the boy who is known as * Broadway Billy '?”” -**Ye’ve hit th’ bull's-eye th’ first shot,” Billy de- elared, ‘* Who be you?”’ : * My name is Jones.” “Jones is a good name, named Jones, an’ the name Th’ dog wasn’t worth shucks, see me, though, stranger.” ** Yes, I have been looking to ask you a few questions.” “All right, Jonesy. old boy, fire awzy.” The detective—of course the reader has recognized him—had to smile in spite of himself. I once owned a dog was (00 good fer him. for you. I would like | Mebby ye wanted ter | | that old Centre street tenement. “T believe you lived at No. — Centre street where | the fire was last night, did you not?” ‘Tf you'd seen me a-gittin’ out o° there about two o'clock a. M., stranger, I reckon ye’d ‘a’ thought so! Lordy! it was a close squeeze, you bet! ‘you have given me all the information. Why | Mebby you'd like ter ax me somethin’ more, | though.” “Did there live a woman in that house named Mrs. Osmond?” “Sure pop!” Billy exclaimed, now interested. ‘* And had she a daughter named Polly ?”’ “She had, fer a fact.” ‘*Have you seen either of them since the fire?” * No, sir, not a siga of °em.” **Do you know where they went?" “No, sir, I don’t. Say, though, what's all these questions about? Be you lookin’ fer Polly Os- mond?” **'Yes, Iam.”’ ‘And so am I.” - “Perhaps I can tell'you something about her that you do not know.” **Mebby ye can.” “Do you know that a woman called for her yes- terday afternoon and took her away in a carriage?’ “Oh! that’s old. I knowed that.” “But you do not know where she went to, do you?” ‘Of course not. fer her?’ “Yes, and I said the same. though. J have found her.” ; ‘Sweet pertaters! then what be ye tryin’ ter pump me fer p’ints fer?” é ‘ “*T want to know if you would recognize the girl if you were to meet her.” Didn’t I jest say I was lookin’ I was not in earnest “ay, d’ye think I’m blind in one eye an’ can’t | see out 0’ t’other? Why, l’d know Polly among a thousand !”” ; “Then of course you can recognize her photo- graph.” ; “Why, yesterday afternoon I met another girl who looked so much like Polly that I couldn’t tell which was who. I spoke to her an’ called her Polly, an’— Well, I found out my mistake. It wasn’t ‘Polly at all.” “And you think it may be the same with the | Photograph, eh?” * Yes,’ “ Well, take a look at the photograph now, and tell me which you think it is.” e protograph was one of Maud Elmore, and one recently taken. ; Billy took it and examined it with critical eye, and then said: “Well, now, mister, ter tell ye th’ truth, it stumps me. With these duds on, though, I should say it wasn’t Polly, but t’other one.” ‘** You are right.” “Oh! Tam, eh? Then I reckon you know who +* An’ L reckon also that other conundrum or two. “You are.” “Then, as th’ fake over in th’ dime museum would say, list’ to th’ oracle. Not a single word more d’ye git out o’ me til! ye tell me who this gal is an’ where she lives. I don’t know who you be, but I find ye’re after infermation as big as a hogs, an’ I want some, too.” While ig thus, Billy adjusted his box upon is shoulder as though ready to end the interview then and there. “ What do you want to know that for?” the detec- tive asked. F “Sweet pertaters! ter satisfy my devourin’ curi- osity, of course. An’ that ain’t all I want ter know, either,” 5 “What else would you like to know?” “T want to know where Polly Osmond is now.” “‘and you mean to say that if I don’t give you this information you will not answer any more ques- tions, eh?” 1 east oe bo ou’ left.” ‘ then, my boy, re le “Tett how am I ere ; “I have got all the information out of you that ¥ wanted, for which I am very much obliged, too; but e’d like ter ax me an- I right?” I can’t give you any in return, It isn’t in my line- of business. An “ Th’ dickens it ain’t! What és your line o° busi- ness, anyhow?”’ For reply the detective threw open his coat just far ee to let the boy catch a glimpse of his shield. “Sweet pertaters!’’ Billy ejaculated, “‘you don’t mean ter say ye're a detective, do ye?” The detective smiled. ‘That is what Iam,” he said. “I wanted to learn whether such a girl as Polly Osmond had lived in I went there and found it burned down. I made inquiries concerning people who had lived there. You, for some reascn or other, seemed to be the best known of any one who had lived there. I found that you were a Broad- way bootblack. I got a little fellow from that neigh- borhood to come over here and point you out, and Again thanking you, I will be going.” “Then ye won't tell me where Polly is?” “It wouldn’t be business-like for me to do so.” “Then, as I said afore, list’ to th’ oracle: J’m goin’ inter this case, Mr. Defective, coin’ inter it neck an’ ears; an’if I don’t git there it'll be ’cause it ain’t in th’ wood. I wouldn’t be so mean as you be, not fer bullion. You’re too mean ter live long. After I answered all yer questions. an’ merely axed | ye two little ones myself. ye won't tell me what I | want ter know. | with ye on th’ case, but now I won't do it. I’m goin’ | it alone now, an’ Ill bet you git left. With my com- I'd ‘a’ been willin’ ter work shares pliments, now, ye kin go to thunder.’’ And Billy wheeled about and walked away in high indigna- tion. The detective stood and gazed after him fora moment, still swinging his eye-glasses, and perhaps debating with himself whether he had treated the boy fairly or not, and then he turned and went up the street And after him went a ‘‘ shadow.” It was a shadow in fact, as perhaps Billy would have assured, for it was none other than his little friend ** Skinny.” Billy and Skinny understood each other perfectly, and they had a number of private signals i which to communicate with each other in cases of emer- gency, or when they were on different sides of the noisy street. While in conversation with the detective, Billy had noticed Skinny approaching, and had at once sig- naled him not to come up. These signals were all given by means of their bootblack boxes, and the position in which they were held, and could be made under the most watch- ful eye without creating a shadow of suspicion. The detective was no more aware of what Billy was doing than he was of what was going on at that moment in the city of Washington. | And as Billy turned away from the detective, his last signal to Skinny was—‘ keep him in sight and find where he goes to.”’ “All right,” was the signal in reply, and Skinny started after him as shown. 4 The detective went at once to the Elmore resi- ence. His first move had been tv ascertain whether Polly’s story was true, or whether the old doctor was right in his theory. He now brought ene that the doctor was wrong, that Polly Aad told the truth, and that a certain pone war entertained by Mr. and Mrs. Elmore was undoubtedly correct. Skinny did not lose sight of his man until he en- terec the house, and then having done all his part- ner had required of him, he gave up the trail and re- turned down-town. Ms he found Billy he reported the result of his work, “You'll be a detective yet, Skinny,” Billy de- clared, earnestly. ‘‘i’ve got strong hopes fer ye, an’ I’m a thousand times obliged to ye fer yer help in this case. You're a genuine shadow, an’ no mis- take. I hope ter see ye chief 0’ police some day. Long life to ye, Skinny, an’ may yer shadow never grow less. If it does ye’re a goner, sure.” When it was about time for the banks to close for the day, Billy made his way down to the one in which his * boodle”’ was deposited. He had at least two objects in view, One was, to black the boots of his new customer, Mr. Jonas Herman, and the other, to get an inter- view, if possible, with the cashier of the bank. Mr. Herman soon came out, and Billy was on hand at the steps to meet him, box and brushes ready. “Shine!” he shouted, to attract the attention of the pre-ident, who bad evidently forgotten all about his contract with the boy. “Oh! it is you, eh?” the gentleman exclaimed, as he looked around. “Upon my word, my lad, I had forgotten our agreement.” ‘Lucky fer me that I didn’t, then,” Billy declared, “or U'd got left, sure. How is biz?’ “‘ Business is good, my lad. How is trade?” “Bully! Say, though,” as he wielded his brushes skillfully, “ is m e safe?” “Oh! yes, that is safe enough.” “S’pose yer strong-box is burglar-proof, ain’t it?” so. ” ** Quite so. 5 “Ola o’ that. Don’t want ter lose my thie: you bet, It’s only eight hundred now.” - “Why, how is that?” “Yes, that’s th’ figger she stands at now. Ye see I got burned out last night, an’ had ter draw out bvo bane ter start housekeepin’ ag’in—me ‘n’ ny mother. “That is too bad,.”’ \ ’
Page 8
Oe ht nS eee EEE “ Jest what I thought myself, Say, though, how’s er cashier? Has he showed any indications 0’ fongin’ fer a cooler clime? Has th’ fever begun to get hold o’ him? That's a complaint that has ter be nipped in its first stage, Mr, Herman, or it takes th’ victim off without warnin’.” Just then the cashier came out. o —_——_ CHAPTER IX. BILLY MEANS BUSINESS. ertaters!’ Billy mentally exclaimed, * Old Nick an’ he’s bound ter show up. R-ckon I’m in fer bein’ exposed as a double-dyed loafer, now, sure. Guess I kin stand it though, Truth is mizhty, as th’ poic says, an’ all in good time my character will shine forth like th’ ‘lectric light on a foggy night, dispellin’ th’ shadders 0’ doubt like th’ risin’ sun dispais. Anyhow, that’s th’ way it goes in th’ story-books—or words to that ef- fect. t, let’s hear what his dudeship has got ter say. Let ’er go, Gallagber!” «What! Mr. Herman,” the young cashier cried, “do Rohr such a young ruffian as this to black our s?” **Oh! is it you, Melvin?” “Yes, sir.’ “Our young friend here was just speaking about you, indirectly. He was inquiring if my cashier had any symptoms of the Canadian fever. eh? Ha. ha, ha!” Had Mr. Herman looked at his cashier at that in- stant, he would have been seriously in doubt whether it was a joke or not. But he was looking down at Billy to see how /e would take it, now that he was face to face with the cashier. Billy, though, glanced up at Melvin at just the right moment, and saw him turn as pale as death for one brief instant. “But,” Mr. Herman added, ‘‘ why do you call the oy a young ruffilan?” e now looked at the cashier, but the paleness had gone as quickly as it had come, and he saw nothing of it. In fact, the fellow was smiling. Billy had just given the finishing touch to his task, and he rose up. ** Because he is such!”’ the cashier declared. “ He grossly insulted a young lady yesterday afternoon, a most estimable young lady—in fact, none other than Miss Maud Elmore, my affianced bride; and I had the pleasure of knocking him down as he de- served.” Mr. Herman looked at Billy, and the boy had his th’ story,” he said. ‘‘Now I'll reply ready. . ** Phat’s one side 0” give ye t‘other. Th’ young lady was passin’ by here, an’ I mistook her for somebody else, an’ spoke to her. Didn’t say one word that was insultin’. I sim- ly made a mistake in th’ party, an’ that was all. h’ lady got huffy, though, an’ then this spider-leg- ed dude rushed out an’ hit me a clip when I wasn't cookin’ fer it. He can’t do it ag’in, though, an’ I’m bettin’ rocks on it!” : The cashier was purple with rage at being called such a name, and looked as though he would like to pat! it again, but the dignity of his position would not allow it. “‘SwEET “sneak of t Quite a joke, “You had better be careful what you say,” he warned, “ or I will have you arrested. You are too smart. Your long tongue will get you into trouble et.’ “Lordy! it’s done that lots o' times. It’s got me out o’ trouble a heap more times, though, an’ | guess it’s good fer a few times more.’ “Tt won't be, if you don’t take care how you use it, I can tell you.” “Ive got an idee it’s my own,” Billy retorted, ‘an’ I reckon I’ll use it as [ please.” The cashier turned his back upon the boy and ad- dressed himself to Mr, Herman, “What I have told you, sir, is true,” he declared, «and I have just received word that Miss Elmore is seriously ill—in fact, has lost her reason. I have no doubt the shock this boy gave her yesterday has somet ing to do with it. If1find it has— Well, let him look out. T will bid zon good-afternoon, sir,”” “ Good-afternoon, Melvin. I hope pon will find Miss Elmore better. I cannot believe the boy meant any barm. The cashier walked away then, and in a moment more so did the president. * Sweet pertaters!”’ i | exclaimed, “but this is rich! This is more’n I hoped for, Didn’t know hardly how ter go about gettin’ this information, an’ hang me if th’ dude didn t come right up an’ give it to me. \He’s a hoss, fe is a boss’s tail! I’m layin’ fer him, I bet! If I kin give him a back-hander, I'll be th’ happiest boy in New York. Sweet pertaters! but it és rich, That gal's name, it seems, is Maud Elmore, an’ now I'll bet a dime that T’'m on the right " trail. But, let’s see; two an’ two makes four, don’t it? I’ve got some addin’ ter) do, I reckon. I must add ‘Miss Maud Elmore’ to that address Skinny gev me, an’ see what'll be th’ sum total. But, how’m I ter do it? Lordy! I wish I had more brain an’ less chin, mebby I'd be Yap fer somethin’. I must dust around, now. an’ do somethin’. that’s sure, or I'll lose th’ conferdence o’ Inspector Br— Ah! here's an idee, an’ I'll it while it’s hot!” Going at once into a store where he was known he asked permission to look at the city Directory. Permission g-ined, he opened the book at “E” and looked for ‘Elmore.’ ” That name was soon found, and then running his finger down the list he looked for the address fur- nished him by Skinny as the place where he had housed the detective. P To his great joy he soon found it, and the name in the preceding column was—‘‘St. John Elmore.” eek 3 Seth om 4 , Reiss ’ I ‘Broadway Billy’s Boodle. Making careful mental note of the name, the boy ee thanks for the use of the book and went out. “Sweet pertaters, ham-bones, sky-rockets an’ sun- flowers!” he exclaimed, “‘ but I'm on th’ right trail, gure as guns! Oh! bow I'd like ter find out jest «what case that detective is workin’ at, an’ have th’” luck ter take th’ prize out o’ his hands! Hang me if } idon’t begin ter believe there és a little bit 0’ detec- tive genius about me somewheres, an’ if I could only locate it, put on a poultice an’ draw it toa head, I believe I'd be a reg’lar Pinkerton. Now I'm goin’ inter this case th’ hull hog or nothin’. I'll git right up an’ show Inspector Br— Hello! here’s Skinny, jest th’ lad I want ter see. ‘Hey! Fatty, where ye goin’?” * Hello! Billy, is that you?” ** Guess it is.’ “Tt looks like ye, anyhow. Say, I was jest comin’ ter find ye.” ** An’ I was jest goin’ ter look fer you. What d'ye want o’ me?” “T've got a p’inter fer ye.” “Ye have? What is it?” “Ye remember that feller that knocked ye down yesterday, port htt “Well, I should say so! I seen him only a few “Not Ab. Hawk?” “That's th’ bird.” “Sweet pertaters! Skinny, I kin tell ye some things in this garden o’ posies is growin’ so fast they're runnin’ ter seed. I’m gettin’ mighty interested in this case now, even if I Aaze got hold o’ th’ wrong end first.” “ An’ what was you a-comin’ ter look fer me for?” Skinny inquired. “Why, | want ye ter take my reg’lar customers off o’ my hands fer a day or so. I'm goin’ inter this ease th’ hull hog or nothin’. Will ye do it?” “Yes, of course I will; ain’t we pards?”’ ‘Yes, an’ I’m proud of ye, too. If ye wasn’t so awful fat ye’d be more bootiful ter look at, but I’m satisfied with ve. Now here’s a card with all my customers’ names on, and ye’ll see there's only six more ter do ter-day."" And Billy went on to give full directions. “ All right,” said Skinny. “I grip yer idee, an’ I'll tend ter biz in a way that'll do our company credit.” “Haven't th’ least doubt of it, pardner,” Billy answered, and bidding his friend good-by he started for home. “So,” he muttered, “‘Ab, Hawk was talkin’ to that cashier feller, was he? Wonder what is up with them? It looks like funny biz. Wonder if it has anything ter do with his tryin’ ter take my bank- book last night?” When he reached home he put on his best clothes at once, took a hasty lunch from the closet, and tell- ing his mother where he was going, set out. BP ad ony he reached the street a new surprise awaited m. A carriage was just drawing up to the curb a short distance away, and Abner Hawk was advanc- ing to meetit. — “Sweet rtaters!” Billy exclaimed at_once, “here is still another quill ia th’ wing. Wonder what this means?” There wes no possible chance for him to get near enough unobserved to hear what was said, but he could see all that passed. The carriage was a closed one, and when Abner Hawk reached it, its door swung open just a little, Some little conversation was carried on in alow tone, evidently, and then Hawk put out his hand oy i agg something which he at once put into Ss et. Then a moment later the carriage drove away, and Hawk turned and entered the saloon where he spent a great deal of his time. All in an instant Broadway Billy resolved to fol- low that carriage. 4 But, how was he todo it? It had started off ata lively gait, and there was not a vehicle in sight that he could possibly hire. Knowing well that there was no time to be lost in debate. he question, he set out on a run to follow on a Straight up Centre street to Canal the carriage went, thence to Broadway, and then up that great thoroughfare. Billy was not a great ways behind when Broadw. was reached, but his wind was_ nearly spent, and tt was & great relief to him when he saw the carriage turn up town. and saw also a street car right at hand going in the same direction. He boarded the car at once. For some distance the carriage held the lead, but after two or. three awkward blockings had been en- countered, the driver of it turned his horse asi’é and allowed the car to pass, when he fell_bebind it. Seeing this move about to be made, Billy stepped inside the car in order not to be seen. Not that he had any idea the driver of the carriage would know him, but if he should s’¢ him again later on he mizht suspect that he was watching im. \ Up Broadway to Fourteenth t the carriage eee and then it turned to the ite A, moment later and Billy was again following it on foot. i : may ae to on oa Ro ‘§ co © = 5. B ® 4 © > =) =¥ ao & D ° <4 B BE = ag ' ©@ = = =a Down to Sixth avenue he was led, and then north- ward again. ; Here, too, Billy was able to take acar. Quite a distance was traveled in this a and then, when a very fashionable part of the city was reached, the caariage turned inte one, of the bered streets in the direction of Fifth avenue, To Billy’s surprisé and. delight he found that this was the street on which St. John Elmore resided. Again the boy followed. at a safe distance, but this time he had not far to go. the carriage soon stopped before’ 4 house, a woman got out and went in, and then the carriage drove cr: Billy took note of the number of the house, and then again he followed the carriage, He thought it might possibly bring him further light, ut in this he was mistaken. The driver went straight toa stable in another street, and horse and carriage disappeared. “That seems ter settle that p’int,” Billy decided. “Guess th’ trail ended back there at th’ house where th’ woman got out. Reckon I’ toddle back to th’ neighborhood o’ that vicinity now, an’ See how th’ land lays. It’s queer how strange it is, b’mighty! but thac’s th’ same street St. John Elmore lives on. There’s a nigger in th’ fence, sure pop. This heur t o’ mystery is beginnin’ ter b’ile. An’ I’m on hand ter poke up th’ fire an’ keep it bitin’, too, I want ter git in ahead o' that reg’lar detective, if I pector Br— Hello! here’s th’ num- kin, an’ show Ins street! Now fer it.” Billy soon found the house he had seen the woman enter, and took a careful survey of its front. But it told him nothing. Then he went on to the Elmore residence, which he noted was six doors from the other house. and there, after 4 moment's hesitation, he rung the bell. CHAPTER X. MAUD ELMORE MYSTIFIED. Ir is not by any means our intention to forget Miss Maud Elmore. When she awoke, on the morning following the night of her abduction from her own room and home. it wis a little later than the hour in which Polly Osmond awoke. The sun was shining into her_room, and she, of course, had no thought that anything unusual had been going on during the night. The room was hers—in appearance, and there was nothing whatever to create alarm and suspicion in the girl’s mind. Lying awake for some moments, enjoying the re- freshing rest so natural to youth and health, she presentiy arose and called for her maid. There was no answer. She called again, and as there was still no reply, she pene pe to the door 0 ning into the bath-room, and leading to the room her maid occupied. To her surprise that door was locked. What could it mean? : Then for the first time she noticed that she was not in her usual night attire. She was astounded, ckly she turned to the door leading into the hall. That, too, was locked. Then she turned to the windows and looked out, and— Good heavens! where was she? This was not her own room! The house across the street was — cae one opposite her own room. Where could she And yet, this room must be hers. It was the same in all respects—color, furniture, thing. Bienen quickly to the wardrobe, Maud flung open the door. It was empty. Heavens! had anything been stolen? She turned then to the bureau and threw open the drawer in which she kept all her jewelry, Not a thing was there. “be Surprised and frightened beyond measure, the rl burst into tears. “Ob! what has happened—where can I be?’ she sobbed, ‘This is my room, and yet nothing ot side seems natural. The houses all seem to hi changed places, and— Ab! there is the one that is opposite my own room!" it was. Tt was the fifth or sixth house further down the street, , AN 7 All this took 2 ey in less time than it has taken us to pen the words. . aud was naturally brave, and after the first shock of surprise and Thame was over she dried her eyes and began to try to reason. She had but merely ported the lace curtains to look out, fearing she might be seen, and she now turned back into the room. ‘“Where were her clothes? whatever? of the bed she cspied the clothes which had been worn by Polly Osmond. She examined them. | They were of common material. but were neatly made and scrupulously clean, and she resolved to put them on—and ° She was now Polly Osmond, as any one who had ever known Polly would have declared instantly. Having d herself, she stepped back to the window and drew the curtains aside boldly. Horror! made the discovery then that the window, on the inside, was crossed by three stout iron bars. — This discovery increased her alarm anew. |. She tried to raise the window, then, only, to find it securely fastened down by some unseen meal pictures—every- — Had nothing been left She looked around, and on @ chair near the head — - . «nh
Page 9
ye ee) et LU +5 an 4 "id go down wid me. I knows ye wed well. ‘ ug.”’ __ Why—oh! why wes she treated thus? Whose house was she in? When had she been brought there? For what purpose? These were questions she could not answer, not ‘one of them, ~ It was all a mystery to her, Had she been ill? What day was this? Was she noc in her own room aft rall? Had not the changes across the way actually taken place? She could not tell. Suadey she was struck with an idea, and hasten- ed to test it. — On the inside of the wardrobe door she and a schoolma’'ée, who had sp-nt one summer vacation with her, had written their names. She would see if they were there. Quickly she crossed again to the wardrobe, threw open the doors, and looked where she knew the names to be, They were not there. This, then, was proof eae that she was not at lhome. Where was she Once more she tried the doors, but they were as unyielding as were the windows, a returned to the window and once more looked out, Then she endeavored to guess the number of the house she was in. : Taking the house which she knew was opposite her own home as the starting point, she went over the numbers as she knew they ran, and soon decided the question. ‘ Then, she asked herself, who resided at this num- er? She knew not. Back into the room she turned, fear, dread, despair almost overpowering her. it was someth ng she could not understan |. Only last night, it seemed, she had retired to bed in. her own room, weil and happy. Her rings had ‘then been on her flugers and her earrings in her ears, Now she wore a small ring which she had never seen before, and a pair of earrings of a very cheap kind, comparatively. How had the change ben effected without her waking? And who had made the chan ze? The more she tried to solve the mystery the more of a mystery it became, Could it be that she was alone in the house? She had not heard a sound from any other room, She would call for help. “Help! help!” she cried, as loudly as she could, and then listened. Soon agg were heard ascending the stairs, and then uae ey turned in the lock and the door opened, A most ill-favored and brutal-looking Irish woman appeared. P | ** Phat d’yez want?"’ she demanded harshly. ’ : “T mace to know where I am,” Maud replied hau y. a. phere d’yez think yez are, I'd loike ter know? Afther bein’ here these four years an’ more, an’ then ter ax where yezare, Go ‘long wid ye.” “Thave been here four years!” Maud gasped, “ oh! what do you mean?” “T m’ane jist phat I say.” “That I have been here four years ?" “« Jist so.” RS Y where am I? Oh! tell me, or I shall go mad,’ “Ob! yez make me tired. Haven’t I tould yez for th’ thousand-like times where yez are? Ye’ra in th’ *sylum,” “Tam inanasylum! Oh! my God! Isurely have not been mad.” “Haven't yez, then! Sorry a madder wan do JZ ever want anything to do wid. Sure, but yo're loike 4 wildcat, so yez are, when ye git onto a rampage,” “Oh! I cannot believe it!’’ Maud cried. ‘Tell me, oh! tell me if this is true!” ‘True! av coorse it’s true! There—there, now, don't be goin’ on loike that, or yez’ll be goin’ off.” ‘Where is this house?” the girlnext asked, ‘‘In what place is it? on what street?” Page it’s No. —, ——= street!” § was an untruth, to express » as - Maud well knew. : Be ferns “You speak falsely! the girl cried. ‘This is No, —, —— street. It is not within a mile of the street you mention. “Sure, an’ how did yez guess that?” ‘‘ Things that are so clearly evident do not have to meet pat yo ‘re th’ crazy on ‘ you'r €, you are! Sure it isn’t a sane word ye have uttered these four years ; \aggpe! Would ye: loike ter have yer breakfast?” “T want nothing, except to be released from this room and allowed to return home at once, What ; 2 Sn me, is false, I am no more insane than you “"'Th’ same old story is that, me darlint.| It won't Why, half 0’ th’ time ye're as crazy as a a4 ay! how can you say that, when you know it ig * But I tell ye it’s true.” “Do you know who I am?” “WhoamiIP “Who are ye? Oh? but yez do weary me wid yer questions, SO ye do, an’ th’ same ones Over an’ over ag’in every day. Phat’s de use me answerin’ ’em? Sure yer memory isn't as long as a string. an’ ter- morrow a ll be axin’ th’ same things over ag’in.” d did not believe this, and how could she? but _ at the same time she hot control her fee of fear and dread. What if it were true? ee "© I know well enough who I am," she said. Ps i Broadway Billy's Boodle. “*Then why did yez ax me?” “I wanted to see if you know.” * An’ | told ye av coorse I do.” **Tam Miss Maud Elmore.”’ ‘*Oh! good heavens! an’ phat next will it be? Yesterday ye was de Princess o’ Wales, an’ I s'pose ter-morrer ye'll be de Empress 0’ Bag-dad, or some other furrin blood.” ‘Then please tell me zhoIam. I will not trouble you again.” “Sure an’ I'll not ’ave yez trouble me ag'in, fer dis.is de last tims I'll tell yez, now mind ye. Yer name is Polly Osmond, jest no more an’ no Jess, an’ | ye kin rest assured, me darlint, that all th’ ‘noble’ lood there is in yer hull body wouldn't fill a tay- | spoon, An’ now I ax yer ag’in—will yez have yer breakfast?” The game that was being played Is easily under- stood. : ; It was the intention of the strange woman who was at the bottom of the evil plot to make Maud be- lieve that she was insane, or at least to disturb her mind so greatly that she would drive her mad. It was a heinous scheme. But she had in Maud Elmore a girl who -would rove hard to manage, Already Maud was trying to form some plan of escape, but none as yet appeared. She thoxght of attempting to bribe the Irish- woman, but a moment’s reflecticn caused her to de- | bates against it. She would try every other means | rst. “Ts it really true—what you tell me?” she asked. ** Av coorse it is! An’ now let’s have no more av it. D’yez want yer breakfast?” * Yes,"’ Maud answered, sinking down upon a chair as though spirit-broken, ‘* you may bring my breakfast.”’ ; ““An’ yez belave all I’ve told yez?”’ ‘Yes, yes, it must be so.”’ ‘“*Tndade it is so, an’ ye’d better take it as aisy as ye kin. You an’ me allus gits along good when ou're disposed ter be r’asonable, an’ T hope ye’sl are yersel’. I'll be back in a minnit now wid yer grab, So saying, the woman went out and locked the door after her. -_ “Oh! what can this mean?’ the poor girl ques- tioned, ‘Whose house is this? and why have I VTS SPORT RAS ay claimed. ‘‘I was just ruminatin’. Ye see, uncle, I’m here on mighty p’tic’lar business, an’ I don’t want ter make .o false moves, I b'lieve ye said th’ boss was out.”’ * Yes, Mistah St. John Elmore am out.” ‘* Well, mebbe Mrs. Elmore is ter home.” ‘No; she went out, too.” | ‘Don’t seem ter git ahead worth a cent, do I. Wonder if dynamite would have any effect on shad- | ders—specially black shadders! I dyna(but Dmite | be tempted ter try it,if I bad a can of th’ stuff | handy. One thing is sure, I’ve dyn-a-mi-te poor stroke o’ work this time, an’ if Inspector Br— el- } lo! don’t faint, uncle; I've got another poser fer “See heah, boy! am you tryin) ter make fun at me? Ef you am—” “ Really, now, I didn’t think of ye.”’ said the boy, instantly, with a dejected air. ‘I badn't the least : idea, uncle, that you’d turn on me like that, Make ; fun of ye? never! By th’ great Stars an’ Stripes, never!” * Den what you wants, anyhow?” “Well, ('m tryin’ ter find out if there’s anybod | ter home here, Th’ fambly cat will do, I's’pose, ye can’t scare up anybody else. Say, though, is Miss Elmore in.” ‘** Yes, she am at home.” ‘* Bully! she’s th’ galfer me! I want ter see Miss Eimore! I want ter see her bad, too. Lordy! you've got me so excited an’ worked up that I'd be willin’ ter see my great granddad.” “But Miss Elmore am sick.” “1 know it, uncle, I know it jest as$well as you do. I want ter see her, though, jest th’ same.” “ Have yo’a card?’’ with a great drawl on the “ a?" “Sweet per-taters! mo! Have I a ‘kyaaard?’ Great ginger blue! I’m no dude, uncle, I’m simply Broadway Billy, th’— Hello! now I’ve done it, sure. Lwish ye wouldn't crowd me so. uncle, ye make my tongue go faster’n my thinkin’-machine,”’ Truth was, Billy was at loss for an excuse for ask- ing to see Miss Elmore, and he almost wished the old darky would shut the door in his face. That, however, was not likely to happen until bis errand was made known. : Suddenly an idea struck him, and he Jaid hold of it at once. been brought here? When was | brought here? Oh! this uncertaintyis terrible. And that brutal woman says I am mad, and that I have been here four ears— Oh! tis false, *tis false! I am not a child, b be made to believe anything. But, I must escape, or I shall become mad. How, though, am I to do it? I must plan some means, and that before this day. asses. pee And the name she gave me— ‘Polly,’ I have heard it— Oh! I remember now; it was what that rude 46 4 called me yesterday on Broadway. What can be the mystery of all this?” In a short time the Irishwoman returned with a breakfast for the fair prisoner. Maud ate it, having resolved to keep up her strength and spirits as well as possible, and then she set about planning her escape. The hours araseee siowly. Dinner-time came, and her dinner was brought. Then the Irishwoman spent an hour or two with her. After that she was alone again, and spent the minutes in thinking— thinking. At last she was rewarded. A plan of escape sug- gested itself. | CHAPTER XI. A SURPRISE FOR BILLY. “Sweer PER-TATERS! I’ve put my foot inter it now, fer sure!’’ Such was Broadway Billy’s mental exclamation the m ment he had rung the bell at the Elmore residence, “What in th’ merry old dickens be I goin’ ter say when this here portal is swung open? Oh! if I only had a little brains! I wonder what és in my thick head —aynow? Hang me if I don't begin ter think it must be mush an’ milk. It ain’t very strong, any- how. Th’ idee o’ me comin’ here an’ pullin’ th’ jig. ger without knowin’ what I want or what I’m goin’ ter say. Lordy! if I wasn’t 'fraid they’d see me, anyhow Ibelievel’drun, Greatcats! if thisreaches th’ ears of [Inspector Br— Hello! somebody’s com- in’, an’ now fer it!” the i Swung open, and a colored man-servant a Pp ™ . e was a dignified-looking old darky, foresaw storms in the near future. ‘What yo’ want?” the servant asked. “ Well, uncle.”’ Billy exclaimed, ** i'll be hanged if I know what I do want. Mebby you kin help me out, if you buckle yer mind right down to it. S‘pose e give it a turn, while I think, Say-er—who fives fete when th’ house is ter home?” Dis am de residence ob Mistah St. John Elmore,” with great dignity. “That's it! That's jestth’ gooseberry! Iknowed I could git a start if you helped me a little. Ye see I’m no hand at holdin’ my grip onto high-toned names, Is th’ gentleman ter Lome?” “Mistah Elmore? Cert,” whl0s he re al vine X ‘Hum! Seems ter me I don‘t progress like n- erally do. There seems ter be : dark shadder in th’ way. Wonder how I'm ter dis of said shad-. der, an’ explore th’ regions beyond? Hang me if I ain’t about stumped. Sweet pertaters! if this is ever told ter Inspector Br—"’ “What am yo’ talkin’ "bout?" the old darky inter- Hello! you're there yet, ain't you!” Billy ex- and Billy ’ The old darky was smiling, he could not help it; and after a momentary pause, he asked: * What shall I tell de missy, den?” “ There!’ Billy exclaimed, ‘now you're gettin’ down ter biz. \ hy didn’t ye straighten me out this way ter bezin with? I told ye at th’ start-off that I wanted ye ter h+lp me out, Now we're gittin’ down ter biz. In th’ first place, is Miss Elmore’s loveyer bere? I mean that dude of a Melvin.” This tickled the old darky so that he laughed out- right. te did not like Maurice Melvin any too well, and it pleased him to hear this boy call bim a dude. : “He, he, ne!” he laughed. “ No, he am not heah,’’ e said. “Then is there a feller here that has a trick o’ swingin’ his eye-glasses? A sort o’ smart-Ellick— thinks he knows it all, an’some o’ th’ next boos, too.” “No, no, he am not heah. I knows who you means, but he am not heah. De missy am all alone, ‘cept ber maid, { reckon,” ‘** Well, now, uncle, you jest inform her that a boy about my size an' figger is here an’ wants ter see her. Tell her it’s ’tic‘lar, an’ I must see her alone.”’ “Allrigut, Step inside an’ wait a minute,” Billy obeyed, and the old darky closed the door at once. and then went up-stairs. Going at once to Miss Elmore’s room, he knocked, and the door was opened by the maid. “D’ere am a boy down-stairs who says he wants ter see Missy Maud at once,” the old man explained. The maid repeated this to Polly, who was seated near te window. **Oh! I do not want to see him!”’ Polly exclaimed. “ He will want to know something I anything about. and it will be very unpleasant,” “ Yes, yes, you must see him,” the maid whispered vigorously. “* Remember what you promised Mr. and Mrs, Elmore.” “Yes, that is so, Well, let him come up, and— Say, though, ask what his name is.”’ “What is the boy’s name?” the maid questioned of the old darky. “Bless me, but I disremember, an’ he done tol’ me, too. It is Billy—Billy somethin’-or-other, but l— “Ob! can it be Broadway Billy?"’ cried Polly, who heard the words. “Yes; yes, dat am it, missy, shua!” the old man een are ; nak ; 7 ‘ ¥Y. !’ cried Polly, jumping up and clapping her hands gleefully, “ Zz so glad! Let him come up at once.” “ Poor missy! x missy!” the old darky mut- tered as he descended the stairs, “she am gone in de min: fo’ shua.”’ , When he reached the hall where Billy was waiting, the boy inquired: ‘* Well. uncle, what’s th’ verdick?”’ “I'm ter fetch ye up to de missy’s room.” “Sweet pertaters! yedon't sayso! Iwas in hopes she’d tell ye ter fire me out. Well, it seems I’m in fer it, so T reckon I'll have ter brace up an’ face th’ music, Guess I kin stand it if she Ein, anyhow. Lead on, uncle, an’ I’ll foller thee.” “Bless me, but you do talk strange.” the old man muttered, as he turned and led the way up-stairs. ‘Strange! Lord love ye, uncle, but ye’d orter see th’ rest o’ th’ fambly,” ; : in @ moment they arrived at the door of Miss oO not know . OE ee
Page 10
Ene — ai > , * ‘ : q a i Hi t 4 ¥ t ; ' sy AeA ; ¥ " - ee OY A Paks eh, Aa Broadway Billy’ s opened, the maid so, and the d Billy stood Miss Elmore Elmore’s room, the old darky knocked, the door invited Billy to step in, the boy did oor closed behind him. alove in the presence of the supposed and her maid. Polly could hardly resist the temptation to jum up and make herself known at once, but she waite ‘to see what Biliy would say. 2 For a moment Billy stood around in his hands, and then he said: ‘“Er—Miss Polly smile her laughter. “T thought I ‘*when that blac .I—I’m here.”’ dand no silent, turning his hat dded, and could hardly restrain wouldn’t be, though,” Billy declared, k shadder fell across th’ door down there. Bein’ as I am here, though, J—er— Say,I kernizé me, don't ye?” olly nodded again. spose ye rec “T had an ide ter git holt o’ yer name an’ add an’ ‘pollygize fer th’ way I spoke to ye come round * ye aie on Broadway. mistook ye ‘ye, miss, as miss, What wouldn't speak mint o’ gold, an’1 hope ye’ll As fur that spider-legged dude o’ yourn it’s meant. eyewould. Ye see, miss,I happened ress, an’ thought I'd Ye see th’ fact was, miss, fer somebody else, a gal that I’m awful sweet on, Her name is Polly, an’ that’s th’ reason I called you Polly. Why, she looks jest as much like two square lumps 0" sugar looks alike. It wvuld be jest onpossible ter tell who from t’other one, if ye stvod side an’ side. that knocked me down, I— Polly could bold in no long merry peal of laughter in whic joined her Billy looke Melvin tell Mr. Herman her reason, and this seeme she had. He certainly had it wasn’t in him. A moment later he was more astounded than ever. ‘As soon as Polly could control her laughter she sprung up, ran to where the boy stood, caught him by the hands, and exclaimed: “Why, Billy Billy stood an open wide. Again Polly laughed “ Now see feelin’s an’ affection Yesterday when I called looked daggers an’ dynam I come ter ’pollygize to ye, } clare you're Polly. Now I'd ‘like ter know jest who is who. If you're Polly, where’s Miss Elmore? an’ if you’re Miss more, then where’s Polly?” ; ” the girl answered truthfully. ‘“‘Where Miss Elmore is nobody knows. This is Inot speaking the truth?” *“T am _ Polly Miss Elmore’s maid. Am here,” Billy finally managed to say, “if you think I’m goin’ ter allow ye ter monkey with my s in this style, ye’re mistaken. e Polly, ye got huffy an’ te at me; an’ now, when turning to the maid. ““Yes,’’ was the answer, “But, sweet pertaters! it. ‘Say, jest 5 that when fingers and see them now. And the real appeared.” “Sweet proveittome. T factory. This is a ¢ eyes. I’m her earrings were ruther inc but I want proof of it.” ** And what proof can I give “Well, Pll tell ye: If you enough Polly, you'll remember a little agreement ye made with me once upon a time, an’if you'll jest whisper inter my ear what that ‘greement was, it'll settle th’ hull uestion.”’ Polly blushed like a rose, and seeing that Billy was in earnest, she gave him the proof he thoroughly | demanded. ‘ . “That settles it!” Billy cried joyously ; “ an’ now, er see ye alone fer about ten minutes lady be so kind as ter—” maid, promptly and pleasantly, T will retire into my own room,” , eaviug Billy and Polly Polly, I'd like or so. Will th “Yes,” said the “she will. And she retired at once, | alone together. moment they were alone, ever got holt of, I’ve had my hand inter several y brief career to date, detective mys! : em all It is somethin’ ‘but this one is th’ daddy of” 1’m th’ sort 0’ feller, *sultin’ to a la MA fer a ‘cept my ‘polly d from one to the other in amazement. He remembered, now, to have heard Maurice that Maud Elmore had lost d to him to indicate that not said anything funny; _ don’t you know me—Polly ?”” d stared at her with eyes and mouth e, ye call me Billy, an’ de- ‘this is true.” how did you come here, if you’re Polly? an’ what are ye passin’ yerself off as Miss Elmore for? There’s a hoss, an’ nee me if I wouldn't like ter understand ed a little light on th’ subject, will “T am willing to tell you all I know,” Polly an- swered, ‘‘ but th Icame here any a mystery here as big as at isn’t much, more than youdo. All I know is I went to bed last night I was plain Polly Osmond, but this morning when I woke up I found myself Maud Elmore. Her rings were on my in my ears, just as you Maud Elmore has dis- pertaters! This 4s a mystery! Hang me ifI—. Say, though, if you're Polly, I want ye ter e appearance o’ things ain’ ase where I can’t ‘pend on my lined ter believe you ave Polly, CHAPTER XII. BILLY GETS A CLEW. “SQwret PERTATERS! ag hye ad eg erie ‘but this c ats I can’t see through, nohow. all ye know about it, will ve? u pees sae’ She told him everything, as far as she knew it, from the time of her leavin oe Ony case O n record, an’ I’m teries durin’ m er, but burst out in a bh Miss Elmore’s maid you?” ‘re th’ real an’ ‘sure- gy as Tdo not know how satis- Now, Pol, jest_ tell me I may be able ter pick g¢ the old tenement in m any watt Mrs. Smith, up to that time. | And when she bad done, : ‘ “Polly, there’s & supenjus mystery here! It beats ly cried: ’ rocks on it.” eS, Se YEney ie Boodle. ee “Tt certainly is a very strange affair. It is some- thing I cannot understand at all.” “Did ye ever have a surspicion, Polly?” “Did I ever have what?” “A surspicion; one o’ them idees ye git that sich an’ sich things is So an’ So, an’ so forth, F’rin- stance, you—”’ : ‘“You mean suspicion ” “Gert, an’ that’s whatT said. Did ye ever have one of ’em meanderi ‘Oh, yes, many a time.” “ Well, ’'ve got a surspicion now.” “You have?” * through yer brain?” “You bet I have? an’ I’ve captured it, too.” “What is it?” ‘Well, it’s a surspicion that your name ain’t Polly Osmond no more’n mine is.’’ ‘Oh! how ean you think that?” “It’s. easy enough ter think so, when ye git th’ ay eK inter yer head an’ can’t git it out.” “ But, Billy, you know my name is Polly Osmond. Haven’t we lived in the same house for ever so long?” “Oh! that part of it is all straight; but did it ever oecur ter you that Mrs. Osmond might not be yer mother?” “ Heavens! no, I never had such a thought in my life!’ “ Well, I’ve got it, then, an’ I've got it bad, too.” “Tt ean be easily settled, though, Billy. You can ask my mother—Mrs. Osmond—as soon as you re- turn home.” “Sweet pertaters! you hain’t heard have ye?” “No,” and the girl turned pale; ‘* what th’ news, news?” ‘“ Why. th’ old tenement was burned clean to th’ ground last night.” “Oh! good heavens! Billy, are you in earnest about it? And my mother—was she hurt? Was she killed?” “No, she got out all safe an’ sound, an’ then she d be?” “Give it up.” “‘T must go and search for her at once, if she is ill?” Mppeoatce. Nobody has seen a sign of her since.” “Oh! what can it mean? and where can she Oh! what “ Now, see here, Polly, don’t fret. yourself. She’s allright, of that ye kin be sure, She knows where you are, an’ if she wants ye she kin send fer ye.” ‘ What makes you suspect she is :.ot my mother, though?” “ Well, sev’ral things. In th’ first place. she sent ? seen before, don’t ye think so?” Polly began to reflect. ye off in a mighty hurry with a woman she’d never Some things did seem rather strange, as she looked them over. “ Besides,” added Billy, “how is it ye look so much like this Maud Elmore?”’ “ Why, I’m sure [ cannot tell.” “ Well, that’s another surspicion I’ve got in my oe ig No two folks is made so near alike jest er fun, an’— But, my stay here may be cut short any minute, an’ I reckon I'd better talk biz while T’ve got th’ chance.” had better say it now. detective been here to question ye?” “Yes, if you have anything private to say, you “Kerrect. Well, in th’ first place, then, has that ** Really, I do not know. There was a gentleman here, a—”’ “That's him, I'll bet! One of these awful smart (in their own mind) sort o’ fellers, wasn’t he? an’ kept his eye glasses turnin’ round and this,’ imitating. “Yes, yes. that’s him,” had an interview with him this mornin’. lookin’ up Miss Elmore?” ‘Yes, I nelieve so.” “Well, what did he ask you?” rig, only bigger?” you seen it?” what else ye've got ter sa: ver ould ye do it?” whiskers?” “Oh, so he was!” ‘Well, what next?” riage sto sich things fer theirselves. Well, could all he wanted ter know?” am ee sure this is the stree where ouses look like the ones I saw.” “Did ye tell th’ detective that?” “Yes, I told him that.” , “ What kind was it?’ Billy interrupted a square, closed carriage, somethin’ like a doctor’s : “Then he wanted me to describe Mrs, I did so as near as I could, Then he wanted mé to tell just how far and in what direction I was taken from the Centre street tenement. And he asked me if [ could tell the street and number when the car- round, like “IT thought so. I’ve been takin’ his measure. I He thinks he’s awful cute, an’ I’d jest give a dollar ter take this job out o’ his hands. ‘at’s he doin’, anyhow? * “fe wanted to know what kind of a carriage I ; “Was it That is it exactly! How did youknow? Have ‘**Reckon I have, Polly. But go on, an’ let’s hear “Well, then he wanted “me to describe the dri- ‘No; I have forgotten how he looked.” “Wasn't he a big man, with pale face an’ red Smith, and : ped.” i % Sweet pertaters! didn’t he want the earth? I had an idee it was a detective's business ter find out you tell him ? “No, couldn't. I couldn’t tell him hardly any- thing. It was a long ride, I know, but the carriage was closed and I couldn't see out, and when 1 got out I had a thick vail over my face and couldn’t see much, [took one quick look around, though, and I we stopped. You see I didn’t see the number of the house when Je eT! ‘Tt is sad—sad indeed. Is she wholly non compos, = “Sah?” i “T mean is her reason completely gone, or only partly so?" ; hou ee “Ts *traid it am "bout gone; she do talk pow’ful strange.” ee Nag range pad—too bad, Are Mr, and Mrs. Blmoreim, = or is either of them? ' 1 ae ee “No, sab, dey am bothout.” = 4
Page 11
_. “Then please take my card up to Miss Elmore, and say that I beg to be allowed to see her.”’ The old servant took the card, carried it up, and soon returned and informed Mr. Melvin that Miss Elmore would see him. CHAPTER XIII. A HOPELESS CASE. Mr. Maurice Metvin was soon ushered into ‘‘ Miss Elmore’s”’ presence, “My dear Maud,” he exclaimed, rushing toward j Polly with outstretched hands, ‘‘ what cruel news is | this they tell me of, my darling?” and he seized her 4 hand and covered it with kisses, } “Give it-up,”’ Polly answered shortly, as she drew ; her hand away. ; : The young cashier drew back a step, and an ex- pression of pain crossed his face, } “My darling,” he said, ‘‘do you not know me?” ) “ Guess not,” Polly answered, ‘* Your phiz don’t | seem very familiar.’ | The young man almost groaned. | ‘*My dear, dear Maud,” he implored, “ do you not | recognize me? Have you so soon forgotten your promise of last night? Do you not remember my 4 lacing that ring upon your finger? Oh! my dar- { ing, what has happened ite ! Broadway Billy, in his Rese of hiding, could hardly keep still. He would have given ten dollars ; to be able to take Polly's place for about ten } minutes. : f ““ What are you talking about, anyhow?” demand- ed Polly. “Are you crazy? never saw you be- fore. and I don’t know who you are,” ; "Oh! mon ami, I—” ‘What are you giving me now?” Polly demanded. “Ts it hog Latin? If it is, you’d better cut it short. Laon’ speak anything but U. §., which means Uncle m Melvin was paralyzed, but Broadway Billly was elated. He, the latter, felt like shouting. _. * as for the maid, she could hardly help laughing. # ‘Good heavens!”’ the young cashier gasped, ** this is horrible. How long has she been so?’’ turning to the maid. ‘Since this morning, sir,” the maid replied. ‘+ and what does the doctor say?” 4 Fray A says too much reading has turned her rain. ‘Look here!” exclaimed Polly, ‘if you came here to see me, sir, I want you to confine your atten- A tion to me. I allow no one to flirt with my maid, and most certainly not in my very presence. You have no manners, sir.”” ~ ‘But, my dear, T—” ; **Don’t you call me your dear, you silly dude! or Tl have you put out of the house.” ‘*Oh! this is dreadful—terrible!” “It isn’t half so dreadful and terrible as it will be. Say, what brought you here. anyhow? You sent up word that you wanted to see me, and now what do you want to see me for? If you have anything to say, out with it.” The young man’s position was decidedly em- barrassing, and he knew not what to say or do. “Qh! Miss Elmore,” he said, “I am so sorry to find you thus. It pains me more than I can ex- press, I heard you w reiil, and I have come to see you. This is my errand. Oh! my darling, if you could only recognize me; if—" “There, now, chop ab off,” Polly interrupted. “You make me tired. I’in sure I didn’t send for you, did I? And I'm no more ill than you are, It seems togme you tike a great deal of interest in me for a stranger, and—”’ : * A stranger! Oh! this is too much—too much,” “That’s about what I begin to think myself,” Polly declared. * Say, who are you anyhow?’ *Whoam I! Oh! she asks me who lam—t, who Be am—or was—to become her husband. Oh! this is ih dreadful. Who am 1? I am Maurice Melvin, cashier of the —— bank. Do you not remember that you promised to become my wife?” _, ‘* Your wife! ba, ha, ha! Oh! but that is rich! Why, you skinny-legged dude! I wouldn't be seen ar out with you.” Z Jay ee Melvin was more than paralyzed. He was knock- edsilly. His fac> grew red, he twisted his mus- -» taehe’ nervously, and backed away toward the _ door. 4 o The maid was fairly stuffing her handkerchief into 4 her mouth to hold back her laughter, and Broadway Billy could hardly resist the teniptation to pounce out of the wardrobe avd dance a br-akdown. _ _ Polly, to Bil! ‘s mind, was doing well, though he - wished she lad his tongue. _, And Polly herself could hardly keep her face . ht. “TT will be going,” the cashier gasped. “I will %° n, I— : *Oh! you needn't put yourself out of the way to do it!’ Polly exclai med. [ x ah — Ln Gesire to gee you again, I ec -uldn’t Pp aith ina cashier of a bank, anyhow. I'd be afraid you'd gob- te the boodls and flit to Canada. It must be borne in mind that segs was the child of a Centre street tenement, and this manner of talking was something she was used to hearing, Naturally, her own language was quite grammat- -‘ jeal, but she was now playing a part. -- Maurice Melvin’s face turned ashen pale, and for an instaut he caught hold of a chair to steady him- ‘y gelf.. _ Broadway Billy noticed this, _ “Sweet pertaters!” the boy mentally exclaimed “this is th’ second time that feller ha. been knock- _ed out o’ time 4 the mention o’ th’ words" je” apy’ ‘Cana‘ta.’ Hang me fer a ‘ed herrin’ if I = | | | don't believe he us been liftin’ th’ funds o' that Rid eS eA aa RE Pots as i \ . Pye ’ PS this \ 4 : te eek Fi vy 2 Broadway Billy’s Boodle. bank, an’ I’m jest goin’ ter keep my eye onter bim | My own boodle is at stake, an th away wich that has got ter git up purt mornin’. Yes, sir-ee/ I've got my north eye on ye, Mr. Melvin, an’ I’m goin’ ter keep it there, too.” “Do you feel worse?” Polly asked, as she, too, | noted the castiier’s sudden paleness. Melvin turned to the maid and said: : “When Mr. and Mrs. Elmore return, please in- | form them that I have called, and that I am deeply | ained at Miss Elmore’s sad misfortune. Tell them | will call again to express my sympathy.” ‘Yes, sir,” the maid responded. At that moment there came a knock at the door. | The maid opened it, and the doctor entered. He and Melvin had met before. * Ah! Iam glad to see you!” the latter exclaimed. “T desire your opinion in this case. Miss Elmore, you know. is my affianced bride.” “Indeed! I had not heard of it. Well, I will , give you my opinion presently. I must speak to the young lady.” J These remarks had been spoken in a low tone, but they were plainly heard by all present. “Well, my dear Miss Elmore, and how are you now?” the doctor inquired. “What! am I yov7 dear, too?’ Polly exclaimed. “* Wonder if anybody el e will come along and claim me for his dear. A dear old fellow you are, you're almost as fat as that dude is thin.” The doctor shook his head. “Don’t you know me?” be asked. “Know you? of course not. Do you suppose I know every dude and fat man in the city? I wish you would both go away and leave me. Iam about setting out for Paris in company with Lord Ever- leigh, and Iam sure the bride will prove to be the heir to the estate.” Polly had declared herself fond of reading, and | this went to show that she was not unacquainted | with the popular ‘‘ English ’’ literature of the day. The old octor shook his head again, and more ominously than before. ‘Bad case, bad case,” he muttered. “You're shouting!” exclaimed Polly, And then she burst into a merry peal of Jaughter. She could | hold it back no longer. The doctor prepared another quieting Pon / which he gave to the maid, with directions how to administer, it to the patient, and then he and Mel- vin left the room. «What is your opinion?” Melvin asked, “T fear it is a hopeless case,” the doctor an- swered. * And what has caused this sudden and alarming | change in the heretofore charming and witty | irl?’ j ‘*Too much reading, said about Paris, lords and estates? She’s crammed | her head so full of such nonsense that it has turned | her brain.” * And you have little hope?” “| may say, sir, that I consider it an almost hope- less case. I fear her mind‘is wrecked forever.” “Then. of course, my fondest hope—that of mak: | Didn’t you notice what she | ing her pet Spear gs never be realized.” **T should say not, sir. like an utter impossibihty.” ; The future for Maurice Melvin looked dark, and it was with downceast spirits that he followed the old doctor from the house. Meanwhile, no sooner had the pair left Miss EI- more’s room than Broadway Billy sprung out of the wardrobe, and catching hold of the corners of his coat he essayed a waltz around the room. “ Sweet pertaters, ginger snaps, kerosene an’ fish- hooks!”’ he presently exclaimed, ‘‘ but this takes th’ , pie! Polly, shake. I'm proud of ye. Lordy! | wouldn’t 1 like ter been in yer place fer we two | / In fact, 1 may say it looks : minutes an’ sixty-five seconds! If I wouldn't ‘9’ made his hair curl. You_did bully, though, an’ J tell yel'm proud of ye. Ye’re th’ best bit o’ femi- niné beauty on this hull great island, an’ that’s a a good deal, too. Oh! but this was jest rich!” Polly and the maid were both laughing heartily, and the maid having locked the door, they could give way to their feelings of mirth without reserve. The maid, we may mention here, had long since been won over from the doctor’s idea and converted to the truth of the case. ““Wasn’t he cut up, though, when I called him a dude,”’ remarked Polly. “Yes; and didn’t he get red when you mentioned | skinny legs,”’ the maid added. ‘*An’ when ye hit him on th’ question o’ bank funds an’ Canada,” put in Billy, ‘ didn’t he weaken. Hang me if T don’t believe he’s crooked. that same feller, an’ if he is I'll do my best ter straighten him out, you_bet! , But, I must be goin’. It llsoon be night. Has th’ doctor an’ th’ dude gone out yet?” * Yes, there ies f go now,” answered the maid, pointing down to the street. ‘All right. Soon’s they git out o’ sight, I’ll strike out. Now, Polly, you keep right on playin’ crazy, and don't ye give away anything ter that detective feller, Av’ you, Miss,” to the maid, “ you be a good gal an’ take care 0’ Polly, an’ if I don’t bring back Miss Elmore it'll be ‘cause she ain’t ter be got hold ” f, Oh} Twill do that, you may be sure,” the maid promised, p ; 0 * Allright; an’ now I’m off.” Bidding the girls g00d-by, Billy left the room and descended the stairs to the hall, where he was met by th ky. m Well tad bow you done make out?” the old ser- vant inquired, "Poor enouch, uncle, poor enough,” Billy replied. “That gal is as crazy as a bedbug.’ ——— ++. , his way clear. | about. | dude an’ knocked me over. So she am, lad, so she am,” the old man “Poor missy! hit am too bad—too- Walking leisurely, he went in the direction of the- house where he had seen the carriage stop a short time previously. When he came to that house he walked close to- the steps, taking particular notice of them. And he was rewarded. The first step had a crack in it exactly as Pclly had described. Billy passed right on, but as soon as he reached: — hes avenue and turned out of the street, he exclaim- ed: “Sweet pertaters! this case is growin’! It’ll soom be a full blown mystery, an’ no mistake. An’ I’ve got th’ bulge on it, too; an’ if 1 don’t git thar ahead: cf that reg'lar detective, my name ain’t Sweet Wil-- am. CHAPTER XIV. ; BILLY IN BONDAGE. Broapway BILty was somewhat at foss to know what move to make next. He presently decided, though. He would go home, get his supper, and then per- haps let the matter rest quietly till morning. ~ he latter he did not fully decide upon, but he set. out for home at once, He had little fear that the detective would get | ahead of him, with Polly on his side, and really he | did not see what more he could do that day toward | setting the matter straight. Perhaps if he dreamed upon the case he would see - At any rate he wanted his supper. Going to Broadway he boarded a down-towpn car,. getting off at the street leading over to Centre street - at the point nearest his new home. “Yes sir--e’”” he agreed with himself as he walked across toward home, “this is a case worth talkin” It’s about as strange a one as I ever got. onter. Hang me if 1 kin quite grasp th’ facts yet.. Let’s see how she stands, anyhow, “Tn th’ first place, if it hadn’t been fer my boodle: down there in th’ bank I wouldn’t stumbled onto th” ame at all. That boodle o’ mine seems ter be a urden on my mind even if it ain’t one on my con- science, An’ as things looks jest now, it don’t seem) ter be any too secure. I must keep my eye onter that cashi-r feller, swre. . “But, m gittin’ off th’ track, I was standin’ in: front o’ that bank. sort o’ sizin’ up its caliber as it. were, when a gal kem along that I thought was: Polly. Seems it wasn’t. ut kem that pipe-ieg- That put me ag’in /im,. right from g—o—go/ Then I went home an’ found. it wasn’t Polly. This set me ter thinkin’. an’ I made up my mind ter find out who t’other galis. An’ I’m: gettin’ there, too. ‘‘Then kem all these other freaks 0’ queerness in-- ter th’ case, an’ it would puzzle th’ brain 0’ old Solo- mon ter sift °em out. ho is that Mrs. Smith? What did she take Polly away fer? How did she git. | herivto th’ Elmore house an’ git Miss Elmore out?* I wonder where Miss Elmore is? Ten ter one she’s in that house with th’ cracked step in front. If so,. is she safe? or is she in danger an’— _ Sweet-per-- taters! why didn’t I think o’ this afore? Who knows ‘but her life is in danger? Lordy! but this case- mustn’t be allowed ter gg now. Soon’s I git my’ supper I'll sally up to th’ Elmore ranch ag’in an’ jest make Rome howl. Thisisa eh Bian of fer-- getfulness, this is, an’ if it reaches th’ ears o’ In-- spector Br—"” Thud! A poate blow fell upon the boy’s head, and he- was knocked senseless to the ground. “There! you young whelp!” muttered the man» who had dealt the blow, “see how ‘hat will fit yer- head. You've got too much curiosity fer a boy of yer age an’ size. Come, Bill, lend a hand, an we'll) tote him off.” The speaker was Broadway Billy’s enemy, Abner” Hawk. He had evidently been lying in waiting for the boy~ for just the purpose he had accomplished. The place was justin front of an old and unused‘ warehouse, not far from Centre s reet. ; Hawk and his companion bad concealed them-- selves behind a pile of old rubbish, which enereached . upon the sidewalk, and just as Billy was passing, Hawk reached out and struck him witha piece of lead pipe. . There were plenty of near in sight, but it was growing dark, and the deed was done so quickly that no one noticed it. _The two men picked the boy up at once. and car-- ried him on to Centre street, and then _in the direc-- tion of the saloon where wk made his head- quarters, Before they had gone far they were stopped by a. policeman. “What have you here?” he demanded, “He’s my boy,” answered the one called Bill. Mh! fell off o’ the truck a spell ago, an’ burt bis» ead.” “Where are you taking him to?” ‘We're takin’ him to the saloon ahead there. I've sent fer a doctor, an’ soon’s he come’s I'll take th*” boy on home.” “Oh! all right. T thought you might be up to» some rascally work.”’ ; “*Oh! us?—not us!” The policeman allowed them to go on, and they- were soon within the saloon. Hawk led the way right through the saloon, andi. / ‘ ° ;
Page 12
‘ 12 | | oe they entered another house directly in the rear -of it. It was anold house, and seemingly deserted, and | -in an almost tumble-down condition. Once inside the house, they carried the boy up- stairs and into a dark and foul-smelling room. Here they Jaid him down. ‘Fires! but that was a narrow squeeze with th’ | blue-coat!”’ exclaimed Bill. “You're right it was!’ agreed Hawk. “It had th’ | appearance of a: ifficulty at first.” “Tt bad. fera fact. What's ter be done with th’ lad now?” “ 1°} show ye that in short order,’ Hawk declared. “‘Tintend ter fx him so’s he won’. be ) okin’ his ‘nose where he’s got no business ter pokeit. ! tell ye. Bill, I know this lad well, and it’s a honwst fact that I’d a heap ruther have one o’ Byrnes’s reg’lar detectives on my track nor have him, He's a terror!”’ “Th’ deuce! ye don’t mean ter say ye’d be ’fraid 0’ a boy, do ye?” “Notin many cases I wouldn’t, but when that bo is Broadway Billy, I'd a heap ruther have the seoaile pox after me.” ** Well, ye’ve got th’ best o’ him now, anyhow.” “ Yes, an’ I mean to keep tae best 0’ him, too,” “Ye don’t mean ter kill him, do ye?” “No, oh, no! not that. I’m not runnin’ my head inter a rope, thank ye. I’m goin’ ter keep him a pean though, till—well, as long as th’ boss wants im kept.”” “* An’ who’s th’ boss?”’ “That cashier feller I told ye about. Ye see I’ve sort 0’ got a grip onto him, an’ when he wants an dirty work done, he comes terme. He pays good, too. Reckon he must Jift th’ spare cash out o’ th -safe once in awhile, That’s nothin’ tev me, though. Ye see he’s got a wife an’ child in a flat up-town, an’ now he’s tryin’ ter marry another gal.” Little they imagined Broadway Billy was coming ito, and that he was taking in all they said. ‘And you're goin’ ter let him go it, eh?’ queried Mil. “You betI am! He’ll rake in a pile 0’ cash by th’ umoye, an’ then you bet /’ come in fer a share.” “Th’ gal is rich, eh?’ “*T should say so!”’ ** An’ th’ wife?” ‘ “Oh! she’s pretty but poor. Ye see she was a 9 actress, an’ he took a fancy to her an’ married ¢r.”’ ‘An’ now he wants ter git out o’ it, eh?”’ ‘* No, I guess he likes her, but ye see he’s got into -@ hole, or at least that’s th’ way I take it, an’ he “wants ter marry t’other one to git money.” * Oh! Isee. Well, come, we must tie this lad, fer he’ll soon be comin’ to." Billy stazgered to his feet. * Ye needn’t trouble yerselves,” he said, ‘* but jest — that door an’ let me out o’ here, double «quick.” Hawk had lighted a candle while talking, and by ‘its light they could see around. “When you git out o' here ye’ll know it,” Hawk declared. ““Ireckon I hold th’ best hand in th’ game now, young feller.” Billy’s stren and spirits were returning with every second that passed. His courage he never Jost, so that was with him in full power. “Ye may think ye do,” he retorted, * but don’t be too sartain. There’s nothin’ in this world so mighty oncertain as certain things that is onsartain. You want ter take mighty good care that another stick i a don’t fall onter yer head an’ knock ye ‘ssilly.”’ “There, that’ll do, my bantam,’’ said Hawk, as he -advanced, “if ye don’t shut up I'll knock ye down. Come, Bill, an’ we'll make him safe.” “Stand back!” Billy ordered, “ orit’ll be th’ worst fer ye! I’ve got a cano’ dynamite in my pocket, an’ if L let it drive at ye ye’ll dy-n-a-mi-te hurry, you bet! Stand back, I say!” The two men advanced upon him, however, and .despite all his struggles, he was securely bound, bands and feet. “ There!"? said Hawk, ‘‘I reckon you'll stay here, won't ye?” “Ye don't want ter bet very heavy on it,’’ Billy -answered. * Oh! I guess it’s a dead sure a There’s no ‘possible chance fer yeter gitaway. I won't gag ye, “cause ye kin holler jest es much as ye like. Nobod xin hear ye, an’ if they do they won’t trouble their heads about ye. If ye want to test yer lungs it’ll be .&@ good chance fer ye ter do it.” “All right,’ Billy returned, as cheerfully as pos- -sible. “(I make an awful howl when 1 do let ’er loose though, I kin tell ye. Say, though, how long -am I ter stay bere?” “Til I get ready to let ye out.”’ “Thank ye fer th’ infermation.” “You're welcome to it.” Making sure that tie bo bound, the two men threw _in one corner and let him lie. Then blowing out the light they went out, locked the ec. ae baheg the, onrt . ** Swee rs, gum-drops, earthquakes an’ fish horns!" Billy ex.laimed, when left Anlone; * if this don’t clime th’ capmax! Here’s my plans all knocked end-ways, an’ me in a sort o’ consarned -diffikilty. Wonder what’s goin’ ter happen next? Wonder what that feller hit me with? ye rdy! but vit did knock me silly, an’ no mistake. Now, how’m Iter git out o’ here? Got ter do it somehow, that’s mighty sure.” Yin, “es be Bees thing he did, naturally, was to try his nds.. These he found secure beyond a possible hope of was indeed securely m upon a heap of straw wreaking or loosening them. ~: RT S REE Brees Seamer, ; one o <' . 14 i Broadway Billy’s Boodle. Nor had he any means of cutting them. “ Begins ter look as if I would have ter stay here, an’ no mistake,’ he complained, “It serves me right, though, Mebby after I git killed a couple 0’ times or so I'll git sowe sense.’ Billy blamed himself for every ill that happened to befall him. as though he could foresee and ought to know better than run into danger. When he found that it was impossible for him to get free, he threw himself back upon the straw and began to think, trying to plan some means by which to get out of his dilemma, ~ no plan presented itself, and at last he fell asleep. When he awoke it was daylight, and the light came Pas in through one of the windows where the heavy, solid shutters was broken at the top. With on exclamation he sat up and looked around his prison, ; It was a dismal, dreary-looking room, and the only article of furniture it contained was an old table. Ona this stood the candle that had been used on the previous night, While Billy was looking around he heard steps ascending the stairs, and in a moment mre the door of the room opened anil Abner Hawk en- tered. He carried a plate, on which were a piece of bread and some meat. 4 “Hello! You’re up, are you?” he exclaimed. “How did you sleep?” ** First-rate,” Billy responded, there—somethin’ to eat?” “Yes,” Hawk answered, as he placed the plate on the table, and then he drew a revolver from his pocket. ‘ His next move was to free the boy’s hands and assist him to stand np, his feet being still tied. “* Now,” he said, “eat, and let us hav; no monkey business, or I will shoot you.” Aod Billy, being hungry, did eat. While he was eating, Hawk’s comrade of the pre- vious night came in, and when he had done. they fieed his feet long enough for him to move around at liberty for afew minutes. Then they bound him securely again and left him alone. CHAPTER XV. FROM BAD TO WORSE. Av a reasonably early hour that morning, the de- tective called at the Elmore residence. He had a clew, he said, and hoped that within a few days at most he would be able to clear the mys- ba * up. e was looking for Mrs. Osmond. lf he could find her, he felt sure that he could get such information as wuld lead to the finding of Maud and the eon of the whole plot. Mr, and Mrs. Elmore were filled with alarm and anxiety for their daughter’s safety. The mother, never in the best of health, was aimost prostrated with grief. : Both were very kind to Polly Osmond, and she had every comfort. The doctor, too, called again, and Rony tained him with conversation of the mos and imaginary kind. It was of no use holding out false’ hopes, the worthy doctor declared, He feared the Pans! girl’s mind was permanently weakened, and advised Mr, Elmore to place her at once in an asylum, She might, he said, become violent at any time, and not ony do injury to herself, but to others. aurice Meivin called while the doctor was there, but he did not go up to see Maud, and made great show of grief when told the sad news—that there was little or no hope for the girl’s recovery. He went away greatly troubled in mind, though his heart was not greatly disturbed. Polly and the maid ‘spent their time in Miss Elmore’s sitting-room. Polly was anxious and thoughtful. The news that the old Centre street tenement had been burned, that her mother could not be found, and Billy’s expression of doubt as to whether she phar A her mother, gave her plenty of food for ought. ‘ Polly and the maid had grown to like each other, and their hours together were pleasant to both. But we must return to Maud Elmore, since the in- terest of our story demands that we do so, We left her elated by the hope that she had found the means of escape. We will now explain what her plan was. As we have described it. her room had.two doors, One of these opened into the hall and the other into the bath-room, Over the door of the bath-room was a transom, too narrow to admit of any one’s climbing through, but wide enough to admit air and light to the bath- “What ye got enter- insane room. Pp transom was open—in fact it was destitute of glass. f course Miss Elmore had no idea or hope of being able to get through this transom, but taking it in connection with another discovery she h made, she hoped to make it the means of her escape. The door of the bath-room was locked. The key was in the lock, on the outside from Maud’s room, . The lock was of make, and the key pro- truded through it about a quarter of an inch. By experiment Maud found that she could turn the key, but of course it was impossible to turn it 0 sg She could only far enough to operate the lock. brain for some time she hit turn it where it was free After puzzling her upon the idea that gave her hope. slowly an If she had a string to iad down over the tran- som, and could secure it to the key pe means of a loop, then she might be able to push the key out of the lock, draw it over the transom by means of the stiing, and then unlock the door and make her es- cape, She was hopeful instantly. When she came to search for a string, though, none was to be found. She searched thoroughly, here, there and every- where, but no string, thread nor anything else could she find. This was a damper to her hopes, but she did not give up the idea. , When the [rishwoman came up with her supper, Maud asked: ' “Well, how have I behaved myself to-day? Have I given you any annoyance?’ “Faith, but it’s a darlint ye’ve been th’ day, sure,” was the reply. “If ye'l only behave so well every Gay my swate one, I'm sure we'll get along.” **T shall try to do so.” * That’s right.” ‘* What is your name?’ Maud next asked. ‘ “Me namé? sure it’s jest simply Ann McDooli- han *’ “Then I will call you Ann, if I may.” ‘Certainly, darlint, call me that.”’ “Well, Ann, you have a kindly face.”’ (with a mental prayer for forgiveness for the falsehood), ‘**and J have a favor to ask of you.”’ * Now, darlint, I—”’ “Oh! it is a very simple one, I assure you.” ** Well, what is it?” “It is this: Iam so awfully lonesome here that I would like to have some sewing to d6to pass away the time. Can you not procure me some?” “Oh! is ‘hat all yez wants? Sure, then ye shall have it instanter,”’ The woman went out, soon returning with a small work-basket. Here, thanks to her own clever scheme, Maud found thread in plenty, and her hopes grew bright again. § on, however, they were dashed to the ground. “T'll open th’ ba:n-room fer yez,” the woman said. ‘tan’ then if yez will ye kin take a bath.” * Oh! no, you need not do that!” Maud quickly cried; ** 1 do not care to take a bath.” “T must do it anyhow,” the Irishwoman insisted} it’s th’ missus’s orders, sure.” \ ** And who is your mistress?” Maud asked, hoping by a quick question to draw out some information, The woman was not to be caught. “Sure, she’s th’ missus of th’ ’sylum,” she an- swered, adding: “Now, pl’aze don’t begin wid yer questions, dar- lint, or we won't git along fri'ndly at all at all.” “Very well, I will not trouble you.”’ “That’s a sensible child, An’ now I'll go around an’ open th’ door. Sure th’ kay is a blessed nui- sance, so it is, fer it won’t go inter th’ lock only on th’ one side.’ Going out into the hall, and thence around, the woman entered the bath-room from the opposite side, and threw open the door. “There ye are,’’she cried, ‘an’ now ye kin bathe or not, jest as ye loike.”’ Having opened the door and spoken these word ‘the woman retreated, and Maud heard ber lock an bolt the other door upon the outside. Her chance was gone. The woman then came around and took away the Epes things, and again the girl was left alone, hat was she to do? How could she escape? The thought haunted her constantly. — That night passed slowly, and slower still dragged the next day. And night came on again. We may add here that the day dragged as tardily for Broadway Billy, in his dismal prison, and the coming on of night found him still in the toils, It seemed certain that evil must triumph, When the Irishman brought Maud’s supper to her on this nigbt. Maud asked: “Ann, will you do me another small favor?” “That I will, darlint, if it’s no bigger a one than th’ last.” . fs ** Tt is not so greet. “ Out wid it, den. d “T wish you would lock this door of the bath-room instead of the other, the same as it was yesterd lay. The shadows are so deep in there that I am half- afraid.” « Sure, then, sbut de door.”’ “fT have tried that, but still Iam afraid. Come, Ann, 1 am not asking much, so please oblige me.” “Oech! but it’s de blessed little blarney of a hum- bug ars are, to be sure. I’il do it to pl’aze ye, though. . And the woman did, and Maud’s hopes again arose. The girl knew, though, that she must not act until a late hour, About ten o’clock the Irishwoman would drop in to see if everything was all) ht before going to bed, and then she would have to wait at least an hour longer before she could feel sure the household would be asleep. ; The hours rolled on and ten o’clock came. A few minutes Removin her head n the table then, sh t upo she pu ato the oor. Getting through the narrow transom and looked bath-room. All was closed. silent there, and the other door was
Page 13
since supper, if so miserable a _ ter kn fer nigh onter thirty hours, I reckon, an’ a woman ng '0 scream, © Sweet pertaters!” the boy exclaimed, as he man- _ der who it kin be? Broadway Billy’s Boodle. 13 There was not enough light admitted through the ’ transom to enable the girl to see the key, but as her- Sig became accustomed to the darkness, she was able to see the white knob of the door. Taking a long thread in both hands, she dropped it over and down, and then tried to catch its double end under the key. It presently caught, but after a careful test, the girl decided that she had got hold of the knob instead of the key. Letting fall one end, she drew the thread clear and tried again. And at last she was rewarded. The thread caught again, and this time the moving pa aad key told her that it had caught the right ob- ect. Making e running knot, taking care to make it a secure one, the girl drew the thread up slowly until one end of it was securely fastened to the key. Thenshe got down from the table, and after an effort or two, succeeded in pushing the key out of the lock. Victory! The thread held it, and in a moment more Maud had it in her hands, Then suddenly came the recollection of something the Irishwoman had said, and the victory was in- stantly arersheown Uy despair. The woman had said the key would not go into the lock from that side, Maud quickly tried it and found this to be true. How was it she had not remembered this? Where eould her thoughts have been? So great was her disappointment that she sat down and wept. Presently, though, a new idea caused her to leap quickly to her feet. Might this key not fit the other door, if she could only get out the key that was thenin the lock? She would try it. Crossing the room quickly, she glanced at the lock of that door, and one glance tcld her that both locks were alike. ' With fast-beating heart, she took hold of the end of the key in the lock, turned it until she found it rings Sree, and then with the other key pushed it from © place. Tt fell without a sound upon a mat. The next instant Maud had tried the key she held, and, to her great joy, it not only went into the key- hole, but it unlocked the lock. No time now was to be lost, and yA nat/ putting on the hat and wrap belonging to Polly Osmond, Maud turned out the light and went from the room. Closing the door after her, she felt for and found the key, and then locked the door as it had been, She nad put the table back into its place, and ar- ranged the room in order. and now came th- desire to return the key of the bath-room door to its place and thus make her escape a mystery, provided she did escape. She resolved to do it. Going down the hall, she soon came to another door. This she opened silently, and was surprised to find a dim light within. She entered cautiously, and there in the bed lay her jailer—the Irishwoman, snoring musically. 3. ¢ Maud crossed the room’as silently as a shadow, entered the bath-room, put the key into the lock, and then as silentiy retreated. When she page the hall she drew a long breath of relief, and then hastily but noiselessly descended the stairs. Ina moment she was atthe front door, Feeling carefully, she soon found the key and the bolts, and t en a moment later she stepped out and closed the door softly behind her. Without pausing an instant sbe ran down the steps, and—she ran right into the arms of Abner Hawk and his partner Bill. CHAPTER XVI. oe BRAVO! BIL! Y, BRAVO! “SWEET pertaters! it most makes my flesh creep, my hair stand on eend an’ my blood run cold ter think of it, but it’s got ter be did.” Broadway Billy, of course, It was night again, Pilly had had his supper and bie few mleaeg of freedom. and wee poe once more ng upo OF straw, securely bound. "in fact, he had been lying there An some time rtion could be called a supper for it was now after eleven o'clock. All Bay et : an Dian tes too. he had been raking his brain lor. n which to escape, and at last he had hit upon an iden, lia To judge from his exclamative declaration above, though. it must have been something entirely new and modestly startling in its character, ' And the latter it was beyond dispute, “What a blessin’ it must be ter have brains,” the boy muttered, ‘Wish somebody’d take a squirt- gun an’ inject a pint or so inter my ears, I'd like i ow how it feels when a fcller brains in his bead instead o’ water. Here I've been a prisoner ¢ : is id has jest forced itseif inter my thick head. On IT wish some! *d put long ears cnto me an’ turn me out to grass. Why, if th’ fact that I’m sich a lunk- head ever reached th’ ears o’ Inspector Br— _ Hello: what th’ deuce is broke loose .ow?” Heavy feet were heard on the stairs, and Billy's quick ears Sernoped what he took to be the sound of aged to sit up, “here’s another horn to th’ dilem- ree sure’s guns. If that ain’t a shemale in some sort o’ difficulty, then my ears ain’t in tune. Won- : Lordy! if I kin only make this new_skeem 0’ mine work I'll find out what’s goin’ on, Z bet!” Th e heavy steps reached and passed the door of the room Billy was in, and then he heard them enter another room, “There!” came the voice of Abner Hawk, ‘‘ now ye kin kick all ye want ter,my beauty. I’d take that hankercher out o’ yer purty mouth, fi I thought ye wouldn’t holler like all tarnation; but I know ye would, so I'll have ter leave it jest where it is. Here, Bill, jest tie her feet.” A moment of silence followed. The words had not been spoken loudly. and had Billy’s ears not been remarkably sharp, he would not have caught them, Hawk soon spoke again, ‘Now, I guess ye won’t get away.” hesaid. ‘I’m sorry ter leave ye, an’ I wouldn’t if I hagn’t impor- tant business on hand, but it can’t be helped. I'll see re later, though, my pretty Polly, and then we'll see about gettin’ married.”’ 5 ** Sweet rtaters, Jampblack, carpet-tacks an’ sourkrout!”’ Broadway Billy ejaculated, ‘kin that be Polly Osmond? 1f it is, then by th’ great sea- sarpent I’ve got ter git out o’ here if it takes both legs an’ an arm to do it. At first I thought th’ idee I had was a scorcher, but now it’s nothin’, I’d burn my head off fer Polly.” The reader, of course, understands that this girl was Maud Elmore. When she ran down the steps in her hasty flight from the house where she had been imprisoned, and ran right into the arms of Abner Hawk and his com- rade, Hawk caught hold of her and exclaimed: ‘**Polly Osmond, by all that’s truthful!” fe You mistake, sir!’? Maud cried. * Release me at once!’ “Oh! no I don’t!’ Hawk retorted. too well.” As he spoke he clapped his hand over her mouth, caught her arms, and then said hastily to his com- panion: haw A “Come, Bill. into th’ cab with her! We'll let t’other job go fer to-night.” A cab was standing a short distance away, and Ror ie the girl up the two evil rascals bore her to t, put her in and drove away. And they drove t» Centre street, stopped near the saloon, and when their driv r gave them the signal that no one wasnear, they cot ovt hastily and car- ried the girl into the saloon and on into the old house a iat i Tawk’s errand up-town, in company with his part- ner Bill, had been to break into and rob the Sates where lived the woman who had taken Polly Osmond from her home, It will be remembered that this woman had trans- acted some sort of business with Hawk on the day when Hope ay, Billy followed her home, and on that occasion Hawk managed to get her address, and he resolved to rob her house. When Hawk concluded to return to the scene of which our chapter treats, Billy heard him and his et leave the room and lock the door after them. The next moment they entered his room, The instant the boy heard them pause at his door he threw himself back upon the straw, turned his face to the wall, and began to snore. “Oh! he’s all ri ht,’ he heard Bill mutter. ‘‘ How d'ye s’pose he could git away?” “He ain’t\very likely ter git away, that's so; but he’s a boy that can’t be watched too close. Come, thongh, it’s gettin’ on to midnight.” They left the room, and again Billy sat up and gave vent to his feelings. “* Sweet pertaters !’’ he exclaimed, “ ye’re right he needs watchin’. He ain’t goin’ to stay here long now, you bet!” Billy’s p!an of escape was based upen the idea of ““T know ye Jire, - The candle was on the table, unlighted, and near it, as Billy had noticed, lay several matches. It was the boy’s intention to light the candle, if possible, and then hold his wrists over the flame and burn away the cords that held him a prisoner. Waiting until the two men had been gone some minutes he got upon his feet, and then by wriggling along, moving less than an inch at every attempt, he finally reached the table. His hands were tied behind his back, but he could move them a little, and placing his back to the table he began to feel for the candle. He first found the matches. He took up two or three of these, and after sever- al attempts, managed to light one. Then he discovered that the candle was on the op- posite side of the table, Moving around to it, inch by inch, he finally got hold of it, and then lighting another match he had the good fortune to light the eandle with it. This done. he placed the candle on the floor, and then sat down and held his feet over its flame, This was an easy task, as he could see just where to let the flame.play, and ina few minutes his feet were free. : Then came the task of freeing his hands, Moving around, he sat down with his back to the candle and placed his wrists over the flame. He jerked them away again quickly, “Sweet pertaters!”” he ¢ xclaimed, but that’s hot! Guess I'll have ter five itup,an’-— What! Billy— Billy o’ Broadway give A Nixey. Ill do'it if it takes off both hands. What! leave my Polly in that feller’s power? ell, T reckon rot! Billy, put yer hands over there, an’ don’t ye squirm once.” Shutting his teeth hard, the boy again put his hands over the flame and held them there. _ Jnstantly his flesh began to blister and burn, and is arms and face twitched with the pain, Tears lips down his cheeks, but not a sound escaped his Steadily, for full half a minute, he endured this, : and. then he felt the cords give way. The next mo- ment his hands were free. “Sweet pertaters!’’ he gasped, as he drew his: nas around to look at bis burns, *‘ but that was auful/ Great ginger! see how I'm burnt! Hang me if I ain’t most cooked! Polly, ye kin jest bet yer- boots that ye’ve got ter pay fer these burns with kisses. Wo, if Icould show Inspector Br— But, come, no time ter chin. These here burns hurts powerful much, but I’ve got ter grin an’ bear it an’ git right down ter biz, Ill take one look around, ter see how I’m ter git out o’ here, an’ then I must put out th’ light. It won’t do ter be'taught.”’ There was a small, square window opening out. into the hall. Billy tried this, and to his joy it was not fastened: except with a button inside. Blowing out the light he opened the window, and. in a moment more was outside in the hall. His first duty then was to rescue the girl. ; Moving sileutly forward, feeling as he advanced,. he soon found a door and, much to his satisfaction, found the key in the lock. Unlocking it. he advanced into the room, and them paused and lighted a match. This room, much to his surprise, was furnished. It was evidently Abner Hawk’s room. And the girl was lying on the bed, bound and gagged. “Sweet pertaters! Polly, how in th’ world did ye ever git inter this state o’ fix?’ Billy exclaimed. ‘**Don't ye make any noise now,” he added, “* an’ ’lr have ye out o° here in no time.” Having looked around, Le blew out the match, and then advanced to the bei and removed the gag from the giri’s mouth. “Now ye kin talk,’ he whispered, ‘‘ but don't: talk too loud.”’ ‘ “Who are you?” Maud aske’. “Me? Why, I’m hilly! Don’t ye know me? I— Oh! I see! you’re Miss Elmore.”’ * Yes, that is my name.”’ *T took ye ter be Polly Osmond ag’in, same’s I did t’o.her day when that spider-legged dude «” yours knocked me down. Well, it’s sll th’ same,, I'm here ter git ye out, ax’ I'm goin’ ter do it. \ here be ye tied?’ * Heaven bless you!’ Maud cried. if you can, ard you shal be rewarded. and feet are tied.” * On! I'll git ye outif it’s in th’ wood.” Billy de- clar d earnestly, and ue set to work at once to free her hands and feet. In a short time the task was accomplished. ‘*The-e!’? he exclaimed in a whisper, ** now ye’re- free, an’ we'll proceed ter git out o’ here post haste.. I’ve had all I want 0’ ¢/is house.” “Why, have you been aH grey here, too?” “Hive l? Well, I should chirp! I’ve been here- thirty hours or more, an’ hadn't brains enough ter- git out.” * And how did you escape ?”’ ‘* Well, truth is, miss, we hain’t out o’ th’ woods yet; but th’ way I got my hands loose was ter hold em over th’ candle an’ burn ’em loose, It burt. you. bet! an’ it tock skin an’ all; but I was bound ter git loose ef it took a leg. Come, though, we must. mosey. You put yer hands onter my shoulders an’ foller meas close an’ as still asyekin, There, that’s: it; now, forward—march,”’ Yn this manner they left the room and descended the stairs. Barely had they reached the bottom. though, — they heard heavy stepsin the other end of the “Get me out My hands: “ll was darkness, and Billy drew Maud back close- to the wall, and cautioned her to be perfectly still. In stepping back, the boy felt that there was an opem door just behind him, and as the steps approached,,. he stepped further back and drew Maud with him into the room, At the same moment another door was heard to: ope and the men, whoever they were, entered am joining room, é. illy’s great fear was that they were in the same room; but these fears were quickly dispelled. One of the men struck a light, and it’s rays fell into Bil- ly’s room through a broken place in the wall. Billy stepped _ silently to the place where the wal? was down, and looked through. What he saw surprised him not a little, There were Abner Hawk, his partner, Bill, and another evil-looking man, and with them was— Maurice Melcin. CHAPTER XVIT. BILLY'S BOODL* SAFE. “ SWEET pertaters!’’ Billy almost cried out, ‘‘here’s: a p’izen diffikil'ty, an’ no mistake. There’s some sort o’ dark biz goin’ on, sure’s guns. Lordy! but V'll git my work ip on that spider-lezged dude vet. Here’s jist th’ chance ter let Miss Elmore onto his: true character, tuo. Must let her see whata nice feller he is.’ Stepping back to Maud, he asked: “Say, miss, kin ye keep still if I show ye & 8’prise?”’ ; ' “Yes,” the girl whispered. ‘But let us hastem out of here.” * All right, in jist two mi.utes. Want ye ter take a look through that hole fu’st. Mind ye don’t make- a sound,tfer if ye do, we're gone, sure pop.” “T will be silent.” The men in the other room had now begun to talk, and the two were not in danger of being heard i they used proper care. Leading Maud to the place where the wall was broken, they both looked geo Billy felt the girl give a sudden start as her eyes fell upon her lover. “Heavens!” she gasped, ‘it is Maurice Melvin"
Page 14
pat to t ee 7 ‘they w that ‘Broadway Billy’s Boodle. Billy pressed her arm to caution her to be silent. ** So, boss,” Hawk was saying, ‘‘ you've made up your mind to do it, eh?” “Heavens! I’m sorced to do it!” young Melvin vexcilaimed. ‘“ My account is something like thirty thousand dollars short, and there is no other way. ‘The girl I meant to marry has suddenly become a fool, a SRE idiot, and of course that game is blocxed. If I could have got my fingers into the El- more fun’s. I could have saved myself.” “Even if you did have to commit bigamy to do it,” Hawk put in. ‘*T cared nothing for that. herif I’d had a dozen wives,” ** Well, what’s yer plan?’’ one of the other men asked. **T will tell you. I have left the —— Bank so that it can be broken into with ease, I want you to rob it. You will get at least three hundred thousand dollars cash, if you follow my directions. Out of that you must give me fifty thousand. The rest you are to divide among yourselves. Will you doit?” * W.il wel” cried the three; ‘ will ducks swim?”’ Broadway Billy felt Miss Elmore trembling so that ‘the feared she would fall, and he put his arm around her for support. * Don’t weaken, miss,” he whispered, “ Jest wait -@ minute more till | get onto this little plot, an’ then we'll try ter get out.” In a short time Billy had the whole plot. At two o'clock these four men intended to break into and rob the bank of which Maurice Melviu was «cashier. “Come now, miss,” the boy then whispered, ‘‘ an’ we'll see what’s ter be did.” Silently they moved toward the door, out into the hall, and then Billy yas hs to feel around for a door in the rear—or front, whichever it was—of the house. He knew he could not escape to Centre street through the saloon with Maud with him. He found a door, and after some effort he man- -aged to get it open, Stepping out they closed the door after them, and foam descended into what seemed to be a miserable ard. Just ahead of them they saw a light. Guided by this, Billy led the way as well as he could, and presently they came to the window of the house from which the light shone. This house was on Mott street, and the light: proved to be ina Chinese laundry. Billy soon found a dour, and gently pushed it open. It proved to be the rear door of a hall. Into this hall they passed, and in a moment more ~were safely out upon Mott street. “Thank th’ good Lord we’re out o’ there,” Bill -exclaimed earnestly. ‘‘ An’ now, miss,’’ he added, “I’m goin’ ter take ye ter my home, where ye kin »stay with my mother till mornin’, an’ then I'll take _ye ter yer own home.” **No—no! I must go home at once!” the girl cried. **Can’t be done!” Billy exclaimed. ‘ You'll have to follow my lead, an’ I’m goin’ straight home, Don’t you feel oneasy, fer my mother is one o’ th’ eg women, even if she is a little upset since th’ re,” Maud wanted to go home, but she was wholly de- “pendent upon Billy, and had to do as he said, So Billy took her to his new home. “Who's there?” his mother called, when he “knocked at her door, “Tt’s me, Billy,’ the boy answered. ‘ Open th’ -door, mom, quick. I’ve got a lodger fer ye who'll thave ter stay here till mornin’,” * Why, Polly!’ Mrs. Weston cried,when she opened “the door, and she caught Maud in her arms at once. “'’Tain’t Polly, though,” said Billy. And then he explained the situation. ; rs. Weston was greatly surprised, and assured Maud that she would take the best of care of her till morning. And Billy, leaving his mother to tell her all about Polly Osmond, set out again to do ‘further good work. ; He went at once to the nearest police station. There he told the officer in charge all about the intended robbery, and gave him all the details he had overheard. The officer at once detailed five men to take charge of the affair, and they set out for the bank imme- diately, and Billy with them. When they arrived there they knocked loudly at ‘the door, and they burriedly explained the situa- mon to the two watchmen, who promptly admitted them. : It was now almost one o'clock, Two of the officers were stationed in a room under «the main floor, where the traitor cashier had ar- ics oe an easy means of entrance. These two were tostand guard and cut off the retreat of the rascals, j The others posted themselves in the room where } stood the safe which, from Billy’s understanding of the scheme, was the one upon which evil designs were intended. . The be sat down to a game of checkers, An hour pas-ed. Finally, a little after two o'clock, the policemen in the lower room heard a noise at a small door, anda ~ moment later four masked men filed into the room. The one who led the way was a slim man with very Iwould have married ‘thin legs. This was the cashier, Instead of using force ba the safe, the other _men had prevaile bn Melvin to accompany them he building and open it for them, after which ould damage it enough to give the impression it had been forced. ently as shadows the four crept up to the se 3300 above, where, with drawn revolvers, they came a a a ae ee ee et ae ee Eee suddenly upon the two watchmen and ordered them to throw up their hands. The watchmen obeyed, and were quickly and securely bound and gagged. This took place in a room that was not visible from the street. The watchmen being secured, one of the burglars stood guard over them while the others turned their attention to the safe, As soon as they were off their guard the policemen stepped forth. ‘*Hands up! you rascals!” they cried, ‘or we'll drop you in your tracks.” The four villains were paralyzed. “Trapped!” cried Hawk, and he made a dash for the door and down the stairs. The next moment a voice below cried ‘halt!’ and then all realized how cleverly they had beén duped. But, how had their secret got out? They could not imagine, for Broadway Billy had not yet shown himself. ‘‘Hands up!’ the officers ordered again, and the rascals obeyed. Then one of the policemen tore the masks from their faces, and at the same time the others brought Hawk back to the room. ** Cock-a-doodle-doo!"” crowed Rroadway Billy, then, as he sprung out in sight and waved his hat. “Sweet pertaters! Hawkey, old rocks how d’ye like it? Hello! dude, you too, eh? I told ye I meant ter keep my eye onter my boodle, an’ you bet I did! I seen signs 0’ Canada in your eyes th’ first time I sighted ye. Canada is a handy place To-ron-to, and it Can-ad-a boodler amazin’ y when he gits thar; but you didn’t start soon enough. Please don’t faint; I didn’t mean ter fire a double-barreled chestnut, but it would slip out. Ha, ba, ha! Ob! but this does megood! Say, dude, want ter knock me down ag’in? Has another stick o’ timber hit ze Hawkey? Oh! th’ a3 ~~ pene in th’ morn “f <n ¥. bee way y has got ter stay up all night, Z tell ye! Covk-a doodle-doo |” Ags 4 ‘* How did you escape?” demanded Hawk, filled with curiosity to know. ‘Ha, ha, ha!’ the boy laughed, ‘‘wouldn’t ye like ter know! I got out, an’ that’s all that’s neces- sary. I guess if you’d really knowed what a rip- snortin’ terror I am, when I git my war-paint on, ye’d ’a’ let me alone. I got th’ gal out, too, an’— Oh! ye needn’t look so s'prised, fer ye might ’a’ knowed I’d doit. An’ that gal wasn’t Polly, either, but Miss Maud Elmore.” ‘*What!’ cried Melvin, and he glared at Hawk, ‘you told me the girl you had was a common girl of the down-town streets.” “That's where he made his mistake,” cried Billy. ‘Th’ gal he thought he had is th’ one you seen day before yesterday at th’ Elmore ranch. This one is Miss Elmore, an’ she’s no more crazy nor you be. Oh} but we did wax it to ye, didn’t we! I was there an’ seen it all.” Further conversation was interrup by the offi- cers, who baving handcuffed their prisoners and re- leased the watchman, set out to take the rascals to the lock-up. \ CHAPTER XVIII. THE MYSTERY CLEARED. ' At an early hour next Leen Broadway Billy set out to take Miss Maud Elmore to her home. When they reached the house Billy rung the bell and Lee ara § the door was Opened by the old dark whom Billy had encountered once before. ‘o’ de Lawd!” the dld man gasped, as his eyes fellupon Maud. ‘““What is the matter?” Maud asked, with a smile, thinking he was surprised at her appearance. ‘* Here’s somethin’ kin startle a shadder, anyhow,” Billy muttered, “Why, missy, whar yo’ been?” the old darky asked. ‘‘Ididn’t know you was out ob de house.” This caused Maud to look surprised, **You did not know I was out!”’ she exclaimed. “No, for I see’d you in your room a minute ago.” Billy saw how it was, as of course the reader does, and said: “ There’s a mystery here, miss, but it’)1 be all clear as soon as re58% up to yer room. Come on, fer there’s somebody there fer ye ter see.” Billy was anxious for the two girls to meet. **Some one in my room?’’ Maud questioned. “What do you know about my room?” “Oh! I’ve been there afore ter-day,’? Billy an- swered, and then to cut the matter short he started up-stairs. . Maud followed him, filled with curiosity. When they arrived at the right door, Billy knock- ed, and the door was opened by the maid. 5 ‘“‘Her» she is, safe an’ sound!” Billy cried. “I told Ri I'd bring her back!”’ “On! it is Miss Elmore!” the maid exclaimed, and quickly she caught ber young mistress in her arms, Polly had arisen from her chair, and as soon as pei pn released Maud, the eyes of the two young girls met. — ' Imagine, if you can, their surprise—their pnouphte. In looking at the other, each girl bebeld herself. It was like lookingyinto a mirror, for they had changed laces literally, and each was wearing the clothes of he other. : : Maud was the first to speak. j ‘*You are the girl for whom I have been mis- taken,” she remarked. “Yes, and whose place I have been forced to usurp,”’ Polly answered. Explanations followed, \ Meanwhile the maid went for Mr. and Mrs, El- more, and when they came_in they were at first puzzled to decide which was Maud. , Our now limited space forbids our i geo all — that was said, so we must leave it to the reader’s imagination. Of one thing be sure, Broadway Billy’s tongue was not idle. , e, Maua and Polly told their stories in full. Presently there came a knock at the door. It proved to be the fat doctor, He was admitted, and the moment he saw the two girls he exclaimed: ** Bless me! what means’ this?” He was told, and never a doctor felt so cheap. He took it good naturedly, though, and _ insisted that the mistake was no discredit to his skill. The others did not express an opinion, Another knock soon came. This time it proved to be the detective, swinging his eye-glasses, and with: him was a woman—none other than Mrs. Osmond. With a cry of joy Polly sprung at once to her arms, exclaiming—*' Mother!” The detective looked around in surprise, and his surprise did not lessen when his eyes fell upon Broadway Billy. _.“Hello!”* Billy exclaimed, “is that you? Kin I give ye any more p’ints? Isee you’re comin’, seein’ as ye’ve found Mrs, Osmond, but ye’re too Jate. I told ye I was,goin’ inter this case, old hoss, an’ here Ibe. Ye see I’ve found Miss Elmore an’ brought her home, besides bein’ th’ means 0’ saving a bank from being robbed. Oh! I’ve got here, jest as I said I would.”’ The detective looked blue. * But, my lad,’’ he said, “have ere © you know who is at t **Say,”’ was Billy’s retort, “‘mebby you kin re- member my axin’ youa civil question t’other day on Broadway. It wouldn’t be business-like fer me ter answer your questions.” Billy had got in a shot just where he wanted it. ‘Oh! well,’ the detective remarked, ‘‘ I shall soon learn it all, now that I am on the track.” i * Hope ye do,” said Billy, ‘‘ that’s what I had ter fs) ’ When the excitement abated a little Mr. Elmore took the ease in hand, and asked questions freely all around, And he soon brougat out all that is known to the reader. Then he and the detective called at the house where Maud had been held prisoner, Then the whole secret came out, In that house lived a Mrs. Bloom, In former years she had been a Miss Rich, a society belle. She had loved St. John Elmore, and when he married her rival. a Miss Davids, she vowed to h»ve revenge, Mrs. St. John Elmore’s first and only children were twins—girls. When thev were one year old Miss Rich stole one of them and hired Mrs. Osmond to keep it. This nearly killed Mrs, -Elmore, and in one year her hair turned white from grief. Miss Rich afterward married a Mr, Bloom. € was now dead. The woman’s idea was, to let one of the twins be reared in luxury and become educated, while the other, living in poverty, would grow up ignorant. aes when they grew up she intended to change them. : How she succeeded has been shown, The negress who assisted her was oneof her tools whom she had managed to get into the Elmore house. And to her was due the burning of the old tenement, she having hired Abner Hawk to set it on fire. This was done so that all trace of Mrs. Osmond might be lost, The woman made a full confession, and it was afterward decided by competent medical ; uthority that she was partly insane. Indeed, a short time later she was confined in an asylum. Thus the strange resemblance between Polly Osmond and Maud Elmore was accounted for, Thev were twin sisters. Mrs. Osmond’s cor: oboration of Mrs. Bloom’s story proved that, even hed further proof been wanting. And Polly, whose true name was Meta Elmore, was welcomed home, Mrs. Osmond, whom “ Polly ”’ declared had always beem good to her, was given a home in the house- hold. Maurice Melvin was handled without gloves, and t-elaw touched bim not lightly. Maud Elmore, out \ of pity, found his wife and child and provided for them. Abner Hawk, too, received his just deserts, as did his comrades in crime, Broadway ape was rewarded, of course. Mr. Jonas Herman placed two hundred dollars to his ac- count at once, and Mr, Elmore added five hundred more, which made the sum total fifteen bundred dollars, which Billy called a “ respectable boodle.” Maud Elmore and Meta grew to love each other at once, and they both welcome Billy to the Elmore | residence whenever he calls. Billy says he shall hold * Polly ” strictly to her bargain, of which men- tion has been made, but she tells bim he must first give up the street and atten | tohis education. Their — agreement was—that Polly was to become his sweet- ou solved the A bottom of it heart as soon as he became old enoughto have one. __ But Billy still sticks to, the street, though hehas romised to attend night-school and study hard, e and his parties. Skinny,” are working hard and saving their money toward buying a corner | stand they still have in view. Billy’s aim and end in “That boodle 0’ mine,”’ he declares, “ will keep. - ir my youth an’ beauty by th’ THE END, —”
Page 15
ibe BY OLL COOMES. tse 5 Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 4 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. B1 Keen-Kuilfe, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 56S The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. ° 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. i 74 Hawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Ranger, 88 Kollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. 448 Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. : 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. ' 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain. \ 202 Prospect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters, 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps, 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Disguised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, ad 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger, 272 Minkekin Mikey the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 7 B00 The Sky Demon; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger, § Bs4 hip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 4 409 Hercules; wr, Dick, the Boy Ranger. AIT Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, ‘ 444 Little Buckskin, tne Young Prairie Centaur, 457 Wingedfoot Fred; or, Old Polar Saul, i 468 Tamarac ‘Tom, the Bi Teappee Boy. , 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemie. A482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan, 562 Blundering Baatl, the Hermit Boy Trapper. 652 Don Barr, the Plains Freelance. $61 Old Kit Bandy’s Deliverance. 4 670 Norway Nels, the Big Boy Mountaineer. / 6380 Dauntless Dan, the Freelance, or, Old Kit Bandy in Arcadia, BY BUCKSKIN SAM (Major Sam. 8. Hail.) 284 Old Rocky «** Boyees; or, Benito, the Horse-Breaker 246 Glant George; or, The Ang’! of the Range. 275 Arizona Jack ; or, Giant George’s Pard. 297 The Tarantula of Teens or, Giant George’s Revenge, B07 The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben’s Death Hunt. “BLS Ker-whoop, Ker-whoo}; or, The Tarantula of Taos, ‘B27 Oreeping Bat, the Caddo; or, The Red and White Pards, pi 882 Frio Fred; or, The Tonkaway’s Trust. ' B44 The Fighting Trio; or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway. , 849 Wild Wolf; or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front. $57 The Ranch Raiders; or, The Slege of Fort Pargatory, B64 Snap-Shot, the Boy Kanger. BITS Chiota, the Creek}; or, The Three Thunderbolts. B81 Bandera Bill; or. Frio Frank to the Front. B92 Romeo and the Reds}; or, The Beleaguered Ranch, 404 Little Lariat; or, Pecan Pete’s Big Rampage, 414 The Dalay from Denver. 427 The Three Tratlers; or, Old Rocky on the Rampage, -442 Bluff Bill; or, The Lynx of the Leona. 455 Little Lone Star: or, The Belle of the Cibolo, 684 Cache Carl, the Chico Giant BY PHILIP 8. WARNE, 67 Patent-Leather Joe; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charmer. 175 Captain Arizona; or, Patent-Leather Joe's Big Game, ‘198 Captain Mask; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. 219 erence the Dueliat; or, The Mountain Vempires. B88 A ouan Boy 3} or, The Dwarf’s Revenge. 868 Little Tornados or, The Outcasts of the Glen. BIS Little Jingo; or, the Queer Pard. BSS Little Chay) or, Caught in His Own Trap, 401 Little Shoo-F ly; or, A Race for a Ranch. 408 Little Leather-Breeches ; or, Old Jumbo’s Curse. 481 Little Ah Sing or, The Curse of Blood, , -451 Colorado Kate. A Tale of the olines. _ 480 Three Jolly Pards. S1T Jim Gladden’s Deputy. | 27 The Jolly Pards to the Rescue, $47 Sandy Andy; or, A Good Man Down. 56 Lariat Lil; or, The Cast for a Life. 5T4 Old Weasel-top, the Man with the Dogs, - 598 Keen Clem, the Ranch Imp. 599 Jim Dandy the No-Name Sport. 618 Billy aang or, The Skeleton’s Legacy. 685 Oklahoma Hi, the Blae-Coat Scout. 645 Uappy Harry’s Big Find. 664 Cheeky Charley, the Special. BY EDWARD WILLETT. 167 Asa Scott, the Steamboat Boy, 199 Featherweight the Boy Champion of the Muskingum. ‘228 Ozark Alf; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws. 282 The Typo Detective ; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp. 295 Fearless Phil; or, The King of Quartzville. ‘ B11 The Roving Sport; or, The Pride of Chuckaluck Camp. $22 Nese the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon's Vendetta. 840 Clip the Contortionist; or, The Montana Vigilantes. BY JO PIEROF, 9T Bob o’ the Bowery $ or, The Prince of Mulberry Street. pif The Vagabond Detective; or, Bowery Bob's Boom, Ab2 Wotapur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective, . 460 The awyer's fnadew 3 or, Luke's Legaey. ERTS the Young Horse-King. ty the Tone Ferryman Detective. > Ty 3 Sere ees oars pede the Butcher Boy Detective, 16 Tartar Tim: or, Five Points Phil’s Menagerie, - &26 North River Nat, the Pier Detective, 7 Wrestling Rex; the Pride of the Sixth Ward, ‘ S ; Jef Flicker. the Stable Boy Detective, ay “4 Rep fick ettles the Boy & Me Dae #) ariem Jack, the ce Boy . ty Brooklyn Tren, the On-His-Own-Hook Detective, d avement Pete the Secret Sifter, aon Witco, Lantern, the Dele eT BIA Whistling Secret ictactive’s Ald. - 628 Buck ng Jacob, the Detective’s ° yyy 639 8 ic 1 Samad) ehbee, the Harlem Hummer, : 49 Gamin B “har the Express-Train Ferret. p an & 8 Siy-Hocket | © Bowery Badger: or, Scooping @ Slippery Set, fie et Rob, the Life-Saver. A 6 See Sie Sol, the New York Navigator. 694 Spicy Jim, the Only One of His Kind. 706 Tom Thistle, the Road-House Detective. BY J. W. osBoNn. rid Bucke: the Sie a3 "Bea Gewder P n the sot Taal Oe. pert Dorrit, the Ve i ‘ ive. Lightning’s ues or, Th Island. 688 Plucky Paul, the Boy Prospector, i Biyuiny ettpo ten ih Sa ‘ " a BEADLE’S« H ALF-DIME* | JBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Gir). 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. 79 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 258 Joe Buek of Angels and His Buy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham, 458 New ———— Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling, 464 Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince. 498 Taos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. 510 Cool Colorado, the Ha!/-Breed Detective, 518 Cool Colorado in New York. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE. 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas. » 90 The Dread Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Taos; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel, 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom. 181 The Golden Hand; or, Dandy Rock to the Reseue. 164 Dandy Rock’s Pledge; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The Haunted Maid of Taos, BY CAPT. J. F. ©. ADAMS, 84 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whiffies’s Boy Spy. 46 Glasa-Eye, the Great Shot of the West, 54 Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. 56 Nick Whifiies’s Pet; or, In The Valley of Death. 60 The White Indian; or, The Scovt of the Yellowstone, 70 Old Zip’s Cabin; ory The Greenhorn in the Woods, 81 Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Prairie. 85 Buck Buekram } or, Bess, the Female Trapper, 247 Old Grizzly and Mis Peta; or, The Wild Huntre 251 Light-house Liget or, Osceola, the Firebrand. 257 The Lost Hunters; or, The Underground Camp, 288 The Scalp King? or, The Human Thundervolt. BY ROGER STARBUCK. 25 The Boy Captain; or, The Pirate’s Daughter. 114 The Black Schooner; or, Jib Junk, the Old Tar. 59 The Golden Harpoon ; or, Lost Among the Floes. 848 Fire-Heele} or, Old Skinflint, the Death-Shadow. 854 Big Horn Ike, the Mill Tramp; or, The Odd Pards, 861 The Phantom Light-house, 870 Breaker Ben, the Reef-Runner. BY WILLIAW R EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards BY C. DUNNING CLARK. 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. 280 The Yankee Rajah; or, The Fate of the Black Shereef, BY GEORGE ©, JENKS. 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown, 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 5618 The Demon Doctor. 5S1 Double-Curve Dan, tne Pitcher Detective. BYS Flutes the Singer Detective, 608 The Pitcher Detective’s Foll; or, Dan’s Double Play. 616 The Ocean Detectives or. The Last Cruise of the Black Boar. 681 The Pitcher Detective’s Toughest Tussel. BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR U. 8&8. A. 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker, 194 Buffalo Bill’s Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. BY WM. G. PATTEN, 489 The Diamond Sport; or, The Double Face of Bed Rock, 519 Captain Mystery ; or, Five in One, ssi Dats) ware the Sport from Denver, 6ST Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective, 604 Iron Fern, the Man of Fire. 619 The Boy Tramp Detective; or, The Double Grip Witness 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Spon. 641 Dismal Dave's Dandy Pard, 651 Bound Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective 66% Vialet Vane’s Victory, 682 Wild Vulcan, the Lone-Range Rider, 69R Violet and Dalsy, the Posy Pards. 705 Violet Vane’s Vows; or, The Crafty Deteetive’s Craft. BY MAJOR E. L. 8T. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit, j 801 Leadville Lage 4 the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince, 3838 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, ‘852 Dombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “Sand.” 859 Durango Dave, the Young Champion Wrestlers 871 ingnert Chris, the Young Hard-Shell Detective. 880 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountuin Mail-Line. BY EPWARD &, ELLIS. 6 Bill Biddon, ee e he Half-Blood; or, The Panth the Plains. 271 The Huge Hunter; or, The Steam Prairie Man, BY MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON, 278 The Three Teapperes or, The Mountain Monster, 288 Indian Joe; or, The White Spirit of the Hills, BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 256 Young Kentuck; or, The Red Lasso, 270 Blizzard Ben; or, The Riot at Keno Camp. 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot. BY BRACEBRIDGE NEMYN@, 4 ian ee} ire be > Nagy Feany, e Captain of the Club; or. The Rival Ath 101 Jack HMarkaway in New York. ae BY MAJOR HENRY B. STODDARD, Ex-S8cout, 806 Neck-Tie Ned; or, The Dug-Ont Pards, 846 Rapler Repheels or, The Swordsmen of Zacatecas. 891 Kid-Glove Kit, the Dandy of the Rockies, 898 Kid-Glove Kit and Pard;: or, The Gold King. 406 The Mad Man-Hunter: or, The Golden Gulch Mystery. 505 Powell’s Pard3 or, The One-Armed Giant. BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER. 15 The Sea-Cats; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Page: or, The Doge’s Daughter. 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. 150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of the Chaco. 154 The Sword Hunters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders, 159 The Lost Captain; or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Bruise. 200 The Boy Bedoulns; or, The Brothers of the Plamed Jance, 214 clfgan , the Robber of the Rhine. 249 M omer the Animal King; or, Round the World, ilo sr he AL 7 Leigh ey ig ad League of the Jungle. 5 California Joe’s War Trail. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR, 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Hurricane BIL; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. 119 Mustang Sam ; or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-lLiawk 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 Trallersa; 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 W olf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League, 885 Old Double Fist tr The Strange Guide M 855 The King of the Wooda: or. Danie| Boone’s Last Trail, 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. 625 Chincapin Dan, the Boy Tratler. 677 Chineapin Dan’s Second Trail. 688 Chincapin Dan’s Home Stretch. 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head, i 708 Light-Heart Lute’s Legacy. BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood; or, The Tweive Avengers, 66 Single Hand; or, A Life fora Life, 72 Mad Tom Western, the Texan Ranger. 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop. BY JACK FARRAGOUT. 815 Ned, the Cabin Boy. ‘ 820 The Sea Sorceress; or, The Boy Skipper. BY LIEUT. H. D. PERRY, U. 8. N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Bocraneer of the Bay. 180 The Sea Trailer; or, A Vow Well Kept. } 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point. ; BY COL. A. F. HOLT. 899 Black Buckskin; or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon, ,; 419 Kenneth, the Knife-King, - 485 Littie Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods, B28 The Dandy sport; or, The King Pin Conspirator. : 678 alee Renwood, the Lightning Express Detective. 691 Headlight Harry’s Haul. , BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 78 Blue Dicks or, The Yellow Chief's Vengeance. 87 The Land Pirates; or, The League of Devil’s Island, 187 The Helpless Hands or, Backwoods Retribution. 289 The Gold-seeker Guide? or, The Lost Mountain. “BY FREDERICK DEWEY 818 Cimarron Jack, the King-Pin of Rifle-Shots. 478 Tangemund, the Desert Detective. 542 The Canyon Pards. BY ARTHUR C. GRISSOM. ‘ ! : 440 Little Foxfoot, the Gold Bowie Kid. | 558 The Sure-Shot Parda. | 621 Truthful James, the “ Pecooliar’? Man. { ' BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS, | 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock, 5 568 The Dandy of Dodge. 576 The Silver Sport. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 589 Tom-Cat_ and Pard; or, The Dead Set at Silver City. { 601 Happy Hans, the Dutch Vidocg. t 611 Bildad Barnacle, the Detective ‘ 622 Texas Tom-Cat’s Triad 681 Tom Cat’* Terrible Task. : 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph; or, Black Ivan’s Great Combine, ! 646 Cowboy Gid, the Cattle-Range Detective. ; 657 Warbling William, the Mountain Mountebank. 665 Jolly Jeremiahs the Plains Detective. 676 Signal Sam, the Lookout Scout. 689 Billy. the Gypsy Spy. 699 Stmple Sim, the Broncho Buster. 712 The Mesmerist Sports or, The Mystified Detective. MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS. 1 4 The Wild-Horse Munters. By Capt. Mayne Reia and | Frederick Whittaker. ; 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen. 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe, (27 I!lustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. 22 Lhe Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan wis. 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees, By S. W. Pierce. 86 The Boy Clowns or, The Arena Queen. By F 8, Finn. + 88 Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. | 561 The Boy Tribes; or, The Underground Camp. By A.C. Irons, 95 The Rival Rovers; or, The Freebooters of the Mississipp). By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine. 98 Robin Mood, the Vutiawed Earl; or, The Merry Men of Green- / wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. 5 F 112 The Mad Hunter; or, he Cave of Death. By Burton Saxe. 124 Tippy, the Texan; or, The Young Champion. By George , son. 128 The Young Privateer; or, The Piratels Stronghold. By | Harry Cavendish. , 148 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy. By J. Alexander Patten. 227 Dusky Darrell, Trapper: or, The Green Ranger of the Ye)- lowstone. By Edward Emerson. 261 Fergus Fearnaught the New Y irk Boy. By G. L. Aiken, 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; or, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. By Ensign C. D. Warren. : 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid ot the Cliff. By Captain Comstock. 817 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Liev- tenant Alfred Thorne. . 828 The Sky Detective; or, A Boy’s Fight for Life and Honos. By Maior Mickey Free. 850 Red Ralph, the River Rover; or, The Brother’s Re- venge. By Ned Buntline. 865 Baltimore Ben the Bootblack Detective, By A. P, Morris. 874 Gold-Duat Tom: or, Ben’s Double Match, By@ H. Moree. 876 California Joe’s First Trail, By Colonel) Thomas Hoyer Monstery. 418 Biily Bombshell, the Cliff Climber. By F. S. Winthrop. 475 The Black Ship. By JohnS Warner. 484 Comanche Dick and His Three Invineibles, By — Henry J. Thomas. B82 The Cowboy Duke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest. ercules, aH Ariel the Athlete. By David Druid. ‘ & Will Waters, the Boy Ferret. By H. Enton. 682 The Dead Detective’s Double. By Gerald Carlton A New issue Every Tuesday. Half-Dime Library {» for sale by 11 newsdealers, f vanpe copy, or sent by mall on receipt of ox cents each. ae BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York,
Page 16
- Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers, BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Dick’s Defiance; or, Double Daggers. + en el | Pick - Drewelves ot Buffal, Ben. ead woo ek in His Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; or, The 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omaha Oll. BZ Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity ¢ ‘ne, the Heroine, 103 | ne phew] picks apes Pe] or, Corduroy Charlie. eadwoo ck in Leadyille. 3s pestmees mae Hesise; Re The Double Cross Sign. eadwoo ck as Detective. ~ 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. 188 Deadwood Dick’s Home Base; 6r, Blonde Bill. 149 Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party, d Dick’s Dreams or, The Rivals of the Road. 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. rte ponewees per? wees or, senna Jane’s Adventure. eandwoo ck’s Dea eal. 221 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant. 282 Gold-Dusat Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughs, acs penewees ee prvige ae Spirit of Swamp Lake. eadwo ck’s Dea ra 809 Deadwood Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Days in the Diggings, Sen ae ba Dick Bantences 5 or, The Terrible Vendetta, endwoo ck’s Claim. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. ~ 410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds, 421 Deadwood Dick in New Yorks or, A “ Cute Care,” prt ae take | a or, The Chained Hand. ead WoO ¢ r. 448 Deadwood Dick, Jdr.’s, Definnee. . 458 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Full Hand. 459 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Big Round-Up. 465 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Racket at Claim 10, 471 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Corral; or, Bozeman Bill. de Bestest Bich Se useenact™ eadwoo ck, Jr. . 491 Deadwood Dick, Tr, Compact. - Base oe | Deneaties, 426 Sam Slabaides, the ar-Boy Detective, 434 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, and P. Pet bets Fe Sal, the Slasher. ; 4 kin Saws, the Sparkier. - BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, dirk Lon The Mystery of the Yellowstone. The Shadow & 5 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter, 04 Gold Plume; or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Express Rider, 216 Bison BILL, the Prince of the Reins; or, Buttdo Bill’s Pluck. 222 Grit, the Brave Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 229 Crimson Kate; or, The Cowboy's Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy 3; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman utineer 3 or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. 264 The Floating Feather: or, Merle Monte’s Treasure. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s« Crulse; or,“ The Gold Ship ” Chase, 250 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pearl, the Pirate's Bride, 284 The Sea Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler. 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. $14 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Trail. 877 Bonodel, the Buy Rover 3 ory The Flagless Schooner, B88 The Indian Pilet; or, The Search for Pirate Island. 887 Warpath WILL, the Boy Phantom. 898 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 lIaodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League, 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta, 412 The Wild Yachtaman; or, The War-Cloua’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The.Sea Raider. 441 The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 446 Haphazard Marry; or, Tne Scapegrace of the Sea. 450 Wizard Will: or, hie Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard WIIl’s Street Scouts. 462 The Born Gulde; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. 474 Florays or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will's Last Case, 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. 495 Arizona Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ¢ or, The Shark and the Sea Cat. 507 The Hunted Midshipman. 525 Brothers in Buckskin. 530 The Buckskin Bowers, 535 The Bue: skin Rovers. 40 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rio, 545 Licutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lalitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son. 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower, 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen, 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 5S0 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective, 586 The Buckskin Avenger. 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea Rover. 597 The Young Texan Detective. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. 607 The Rover. Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions. 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout; or, The Rio Raiders. 644 The Hercules Highwayman. 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Rider Detective; or, Buffalo Bill's Boy Parad. 656 Butterfly Billy’s Man Hunt. 662 Butterfly Billy’« Bonanza. 668 The Buccaneer Midshipman. 674 The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover. 679 The Sea Shadower; or. The Freebooter’s Legacy 686 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag: or, The Tarnished Name. 692 The Rival Sharps; or, Redfern. the Secret Service Scout. 697 The Scarlet Sombrero; or, The Sharp from Texans. 702 Blue Jacket BI; or, The Red Hat Rangers’ Red Hot Recket 707 The Red Sombrero Rangers; or, Redfern’s Last Trail, ) BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm, F. Cody). _.8 Kansas King} or, The Red Right Hand, 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 55 leadly-Eye, the Unknown Sccut. 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’o Trust, BY CHARLES MORRIS, 8 WII Somers, the Boy Detective, 2 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy, 6 Pieayune Petes or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. 0 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 42 Handsome Harry, the Boothlack Detective, 7 WILL Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 2 Black Ress, Will Wildfire’s Racer. 7 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 2 WIll Wildfire in the Woods, 5 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy, A ‘Trump Card; or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses. 4 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 9 Rob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 88 The Hidden Hand }¢ or, Wil! Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; cr, The Smugglers, 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven te the Wall. 196 Shadowed ; or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Lafe. 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger Kiog. : 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective, 220 Tom Tanner; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock, 2% Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky, 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two “ Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway : or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 262 The Young Sharps: or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail. 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound: or, The Young Thorougnored. _ 805 Dashaway, of Daketa; or, A Western Lad in Quaker City. $24 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective ; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. 867 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry. the Levelery; or. The Bloods of the Boulevard. 408 Firetly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 428 The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier. 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick, the Jolly Vagaoond.. ARG Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive, ATO Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. BOL Roots, the Boy Fireman : or, Poo Sharp for the Sharper, b@6 The Secret Service Boy Detective, 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. 627 Tom Bruce of Arkanaag: or, The Wo)fin the Fold, 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Speculator. 667 Rob and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. 209 The Curbstone Detective; or, Horry Hale’s Big Beat, seen pa pp pp pk hp pt whaceubne BY J. C. COWDRICK. 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Gold King} or, For Seven Years Dead. 420 The Delective’s Apprentice ; or, A Boy Without « Name, 424 Cibuia John; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar. 9 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo, 506 Redlight Ralph, the Prince of the Road, 5 roadway Billy’ Boodle. The Engineer Detective. 586 Broadway Billy’s ‘ Difikilty.” 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 557 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. 571 Air-Line Luke the Young Engineer. : 579 The Chimney Spy; or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party 592 The Boy Pinkerton. 605 William 0’ Broadway; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Innine. 615 Fighting Harry the Chief of Chained Cyclone, 628 Broadwa Billy’ Dead Act. 640 Barebsek Beth, the Centaur of the Circle. 647 Typewriter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan, the “ Pizenest ’’ Man of Ante Bar, 669 Broadway Billy Abroad. 67 5 Broadway Billy’s Best; or, Beating San Fraucisco’s Finess.. 687 Broadway Billy in Clover. 696 Broadway Billy in Texas. 708 Broadway Billy’s Brand. 711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe. BY T. 0. HARBAUGH, 8 Nick _o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of ’76. 7 The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl Hunter. 7 Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, 4 Dandy Jack}; or, The Ontlaws of the ‘ regon Trail. 2 Kit Haretoot the Wood-Hawk. 55 Gol " 69 Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 294 Dynamite Dan; or, The Bowie Blade of Gochetopa. 802 Th 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. 477 The Exceisior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, tle Night Ferret.3 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 521 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. 528 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows. 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double} or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodeer Dick’s Desperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick. the Boy Vidocq- 678 The Two Shadows. 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective, 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sherp on Guard, 626 The Champion Pards. 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective, 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp. 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. 671 Jersey Fed, the Boy Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadower- 685 Happy Hugh, the Boy- Musician Detective. : 701 Photograph Fred, the Camera Sharp. ; LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 718 Carl, the Mad Cowboy; or, The Larigt Queen. By Col. Prentiss Ingratiam. 714 Old Misery, the Man from Missourt; or, The Mystery of the Mountain League. By Wm. G, Patten. n 715 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret; or, Caging the Cormorants. By T. C. Harbaugh. 716 Deadwood Mick, Ir.te, Stil Hunts or, The Second Round in San Francisco. By Edward L. Wheeler. T1T Mosauito Jack, the Hustler Gamin; or, Move-on Mike’s. Grand Catch, By Jo Pierce. 718 Light-Heart Lute’« Last, Trail; or, The Gold Crater’s Secret. by Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 719 Pawnee Bill’« Pledges % The Cowboy Kidnapper. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 720 Broadway Billy’« Full Hand; or, The Gamin Detec- tive’s Double Snap at Santa Fe Dy -- C. Cowdrick. 721 Maverick Mone, the Atizona Detective; or, The Wizard of Urkos Pass. By Will Lisenbee. Ready May 19. 222 Deddwood Dick; Ir.’#) Dominoes: or, The Rival Campe of the Northern Border. By Edward L. Wheeler. Ready May 26- Babe mF % -erbinde, the oshones; or, The Border Beagles _ Siiverranon By Jos, E. Badger, Jr.” Ready June 2d. A New Iasue Every Tuesday. 1f- Dime Library fs for asle by sll newsdealers, fly a degre or sent by mail 4 sonnet ot ah phi each, ‘ BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York,