Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 526) (1887 08 23)
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,yOURTH EDITION. hg | tm} (oak a TTT LINGUA TOR Way ict eer cee ull Ain omnes: ‘rll = “iri Ta i et) ‘s 5 maseredt at the Post Office at New Zoek. Ri. a at second Class Maul Rates. Copyright, 1887, by I BEADLE AND ADAME, _ $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS Price, Vol. XXI, a Year, No. 98 ‘WILLIAM ‘STREET, NEW YORK. ; 5 Cents. No. 526. aa w in “Se \\ “ \ mC i i i qe HL | i | ni I Ms nm my ea iy MNES) ml ‘fi | ih ) ITN ‘\ ' | be ae Five Points Phil's Big Skirmish. BY JO O PIE RCE, (Of the New York Detective Force 5) AUTHOR or ‘‘yrvE POINTS PHIL,” “Ron QO” THE BOWERY,” ‘“‘ THE LAWYER’S SHADOW,” “ry RTAR TIM,” ETC., ETO, ” CHAPTER I. A DOCTOR FROM THE WILp wEST. Pp Tue long an’ short on it is, you can’t go in! — —— “Excuse me, but [ shall go in!” “sTOP THE BOAT!” SHOUTED NORTH RIVER NAT, “THAT INJUN DOCTOR IS WANTED,” “You will? By Neptune, you won't/ What, AND HE POINTED ONE FINGER AT CHIPPEWA. do you s’pose I'll let you go ter that feeble-
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’ Bloomingdale Asylum, A C7 £5 minded old man, an’ fill him up with yer pills an’ drugs? beneath; and on his head he wore the wide- rimmed soft hat usually associated with the | Western country. In fact, if this man had just stepped off of the prairies he would have seemed more at home than in New York City, and he claimed to have lately come from some part of the West. ‘* Doctor Chippewa Holdsworth” was the name printed upon the cards he was wont to leave around with liberal profusion, and he claimed to have a mission to cure all the ills that beset the people of New York by the use of roots and herbs known only to the Indians. He had recently appeared in Gotham, accom- prnied by three Pawnee Indians, and had pitched his tent on a vavant iot near the North tiver, Tuen he announced himself ready to cure any and all complaints, and the ‘‘ Indian Doctor,” as h» called bimself, beeame for a time a metro- p litan feature. Among the patients he secured was a man named Daniel Beckwith. The latter had been a merchant of Herkimer county, but had aban- doned business for the role of an invalid. He believed himself sorely afflicted, but all the tocal doctors whom he consulted, after trying in vain to discover what ailed him, came to the concfu- sion that he merely imagined his troubles. They said as much to bis daughter, Kadora, but not to Mr. Beckwith; in his existing mood it was not believed well to do so. ‘Failing to get relief at home he removed to New York, leased the house before mentioned, and successively hired and dismissed a dozen re- putalsle physicians. ; After that, he engaged the ‘Indian doctor,” and the latter was transferring Beckwith's money to his own pocket rapidly, if not curing him. Thomas Beckwith, alias Foretop Tom, was a brother of the seli-styled invalid, just home from a long cruise, Foretop Tom did not believe in the Indian doctor, and was determined to keep him away from Daniel. On tue present occasion be had met the man from the Wild West in the hall, and the conver- sation before recorded had taken place, Holdsworth was plainly nearly as angry as honest Foretop Tom, but be felt contident of his position and managed to remain somewhat calm outwardly. ‘| disdain to take notice of your intemperate language,” he said, in answer to Tom's last words. ‘I am not given to personal abuse.” “ Oh! aivt you? | thought the men from yer rt 0’ the country boasted o’ their ‘ sand?” “ Qut West,” said the Indian doctor, a glitter in his eyes, ‘‘ we usually settle disputes with a revolver.” “On board ship,” retorted Foretop Tom, ‘ef a@ man draws @ revolver we hit him a clip witha belayin’-pin, by Neptune! ag ‘his ig thie talk, my friend. Let usbe calm, Lam your brother’s doctor—don’t let us have trouble,” ! ! who | ar ; don’t ye? ; yer quack medicines, don’t ye? No doubt you’d North River ut. ‘“Sharks an’ anchors! how tame you be! Want ter wheedle me, don’t ye? Want ter go in | an’ pour your miserable doses o’ the Lord knows you can p’ison that old man you are ’way out 0” | what down my weak-minded brother’s throat, Want ter gobble all his money fer like ter be friends with me, but I want yer ter | know I’m all right up aloft!” : The honest sailor touched his forehead as he spoke. He was so filled with indignation that he could hardly keep his hands off of the West- erner; he longed to throw him out of the house, roots, herbs and all. There might be doctors of Holdsworth’s * school” who could effect cures— he did not know positively how that was—but he | felt sure that Doctor Chippewa was a humbug. His servant stood behind his chair. The ser vant rejoiced in the name of B. Franklin Betis and he was an African gentleman of the most pronounced brunette type. His skin was as black as coal, but this did not troubie bim, To use his own expression, ‘* Et a pusson is goin’ ter be a culPud gent, he’s an idjit ef he don’t go de *hull hog!” W hoever visited that chamber was sure to see two things, Deniel Beckwith would be in the big chair, and B, Franklin Betts would certainly be found standing beliind the chair. Here any similarity ended, The master was tali, down- hearted, glum and peevish; the man was short, fat, contented with life and jolly at all times, though obliged to stdutly curb the iatter pro- His last speech made the doctor's eyes glitter ; pensity in his master’s presence, more than ever, ‘See here, my man!” he exclaimed, ‘‘I am your brother’s regular doctor, summoned by him aud nowin his employ. Unless you zease to obstruct me I will go at once to the authorities and notify them that there is a suffering man here in aeed of medical attendance, ana that rou refuse to let me goto him, That’s a State’s rison affair, my man!” Honest tom was wholly ignorant of law, and very much afraid of it, as many another worthy person has been, He looked somewhat startled at this threat. ‘The police will see a clear case,” pursued Doctor Chippewa, seeing bis advantage; ** you are one of Daniel Beckwith’s heirs, and they will argue that you want him to die without medical attendance. Bad for you—very bad!” Foretop Tom’s face flushed. ‘Why, he’s my brother !” ‘* And rich, while you’re poor. When he dies hg will doubtless get a slice of his money 1 — The sailor doubled his fists and advanced a step. “Hold up, you infarnal shark! Don’t ye »” ‘Softly, softly! I have said nothing, I was | only telling you how the police will look at it.” Foretop Tom fell back. He was in sore doubt and perplexity. He believed the Indian doctor to be a knave and a humbug, but the idea of getting himself into the grasp of the law was truly a startler to him. ‘Hadn't [| better compromise?” he thought. “Tl let the quack sce Dan’l this time, an’ then try to head the critter off.” A quiet, sarcastic smile appeared on Doctor Chippewa’s face as he noticed this hesitation, but it vanished quickly as Tom iooked up. ‘* Weill?” he questioned. The sailor stepped aside, ‘‘T've nothin’ more ter say,” he reluctantly replied. The Westerner strode past him and ascended the stairs. When near the top he looked _ back. Tom was watching him with a troubled, any- thing but friendly expression, “There's mischief in that old fool!” thought Chippewa, ‘and he will not rest easy, A stitch in time saves nine, and it 1sclear that I have got to remove him, or be will cut off the principal source of my income. Eudora Beckwith is al- most as much down on mo, but if I can get him away, Lcan wheecle her. He must be got rid of!” The expression on the Indian doctor’s face at that moment was one which might bave disturb- ed a timid person, but he banished it, aud knock- ed at a door close at band, A feeble voice bade him enter, and he obeyed. It was a good-sized, well-furnished bedroom, and had two occupants, Ina large easy-chair sat a man who was sunning bimselt!, so to speak, in the rays of Olu S.1, which fell through the tightly-closed window, Ih fact, every avenue through which pure air might have penetrated was closed, and the atmosplere was revoltingly Close and stifling, The man in the:chair was Daniel Beckwith. Although past his fiftieth year, he was still far from being an oid man, and the fact that his ligat-brown hair retained its youthful color surprisingly, made him seem younger than he was, His face, whick was smoothly-shaven, was thin, certainly, but he hardly looked like an in- valid. Considering the air he compelled himselt to breathe, he was a healtby-looking man on the whole, His expression, however, was most glum and down-hearted; he looked like grief and de- spondency personified. There he sat in the warm June day, as he sat every day, without air, hugging his hobby that be was a very ill man, and that a touch of air wont surely carry him off and out of the wor. | Doctor Chippewa advanced and lowered his deep base voice to a gentle growl. ‘© Well, my dear sir, how are we to-day? “*Miserably, miserably!” sighed Beckwith, and the sigh seemed to come clear from his toes. * Profuse perspiration, J see.” “Terrible!” dolorously agreed the patient. “Your pulse, though, is much more regular.” “Tt is getting fearfully weak.” Only about normal, I think.” ** And my poor heart!” “* Does that trouble you still?” “*T feel sure it is shifting to my right side.” ‘ The amber-hued liquid I gave you will stop that.” ‘* My stomach is awfully disorderea.” “The medicine in the blue bottle will soon remedy that.” ‘* Massa Doctor,” quoth B. Franklin Betts, who had been listening with the most serious atten- tion, ‘‘ is blue bottles good fur corns?” ‘What's that?’ | ‘* if they be, I'd like one ob your blue bottles, but you needn’t put no stuff init. I’s got a corn dat’s as full ob animonstrosity as a dog is ob fleas.” Franklin!” said Mr. Beckwith, severely. ‘Yes, sah.” ‘* Be silent.” ‘Yes, sah,” ‘*T think, doctor,” Beckwith pursued, * that I have discovered a fatal symptom—that I am near my end. My feet are beginning to swell.” ‘Ha! is that so?” cried the Indian doctor. ‘‘ That’s the best news you could tell me, "tis the wonderful effects of my prairie Harasculo Moto- bockto, the most potent herb in my colJection. My dear sir, your cure is now certain!” ** Ah! doctor, you are very good, and there certainly is a slight improvement—a SLIGHT im- provement, | say—in my condition since you took. charge, but’ I feel that I am a doomed man.” ; ‘Whar is it dis time, sah?” asked B. Prat h:- lin Betts, ‘¢ Where is what?” ‘** That doomed man feelin’, Shall I exply ce amber-hued liquidation in an external form, wiv manual mernipei..ioh Ob my band, sali’ “ Franktin!” ‘Yes, sah.” . “Don’t you speak again while the doctor ir here!” se Yes, sab.” Mr. Betts’s way of saying, ‘‘ Yes, sah!” was irresistible. It rolled from his lips like oil froma jug, and, no matter what the occasica was, his face was always as impassive as that of a sphinx, and his manner grave and uwundis~ turbed. Doctor Chippewa did not like Franklin; he believed that the colored servant possessed far more brains than he had any business to have; and if he dared, be would have sent B. Franklin Betts out of the house in a hurry. Daniel Beckwith, however, considered Franklin as ne- cessary to the prolongation of his lite as the medicines he was neck, 7 Before the Indian doctor left the house he took occasion to tell Beckwith of the scene he had had with Foretop Tom in the hepvend he — painted the case in such colors that the self. styled invalid was filled with horror at the in- gratitude of his brother. i In fact, Holdsworth did all that he could to . ceeded poe the patient’s mind, and suc charm. toa Beckwith was not exactly angry, but his woe | w more pronounced, To him it seemed that was not only sick’and suffering, but that his nearest relatives Were turning against him, — Doctor Chippewa saw that he had done his work well, but when he left the house he had another scheme in his mind by which he , to get Foretop Tom effectually our of his way, at once and forever, - daily. pouring down his
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2 North River Nat, CHAPTER II. THE MYSTERY OF THE PIER. It was a few hours later, and night had fallen over New York. Upon a pier which projected into the North River sat a boy, his feet dangling over the water. He had come to the place to see the watchman, with whom he was acquainted, and when the latter’s duties took him inside tie building erected upon the pier, the boy went and sat down at the extreme point. The panorama of the river interested him, and he watched the lights and dim forms of the various moving crafts with close attention. Of these, some were proceeding up or down the broad stream on various errands, but in striking contrast to such wanderers were the ferry-boats which plowed their way regularly through the water to Jersey City, Hoboken or Weehawken, and back again. Such a scene never loses its novelty, and the boy watched with interest, Suddenly he heard a sound from the other end of the pier which caused him to turn his head. At first he thought it was his friend, the watchman, moving some article, but there was nothing outside the building, and none of the crafts which lay beside the pier was discharging or receiving cargo, ‘Drunken sailors goin’ aboard, I reckon,” muttered the boy, and he turued his gaze again to the river. Perhaps two minutes had elapsed when he heard the sound of oars. Looking around, he saw a boat shoot out from behind a schooner. ‘Two men were in the smaller craft, one of whom was using the oars. He pulled a strong, quick stroke, but the skill used made his efforts comparatively noiseless, The darkness prevented the watcher from seeing anything more; the boat and the men were not distinct enough so that he could recognize any distinguishing features about either. The man at the oars pulled clear of the pier; then turned the bow of the boat up-stream, rowed on and speedily vanished from sight. The boy looked after them doubtfully. ‘*He’s in a pestiferous hurry!” he muttered, The oarsman’s stroke had been quicker than the average, but not sufficiently so to confirm the idea that first entered the boy’s mind. For a moment he had wondered if they were river-thieves, but he abandoned the idea after a little meditation. ** Wilson must ’a’ seen ’em, arnd knowed their boat was nigh. I reckon it’s all right; ’'m git- tin’ ter be too suspicious o’ late, owin’ ter the unoosual exper’ence I’ve had with pestiferous critters who were up ter mean tricks.” Perhaps ten minutes passed, and then’ the sound of voices at the landward end of the pier caused him to rise. ** Wilson’s got company, arnd I’m goin’ ter see who ’tis. The hooman mind is always o’ an in- vestigatin’ mold, arnd ef I _ain’t got my share on’t my name ain’t Five Points Phil. Fax is fax, arnd they’re stubborn things.” With this quaint remark the boy sauntered an the structure presided over by Wilson. hen he reached the front, he found that gen- tleman in conversation with a policeman. As Phil turned the corner, he attracted their atten- tion, and Wilson suddenly cried: ‘* Here is somebody who may be able to help youn My boy, have you seen any one pn the ier Can't say I hev,” Phil promptly replied. * Tt must be, officer, that your “man did not come this way. True, [ was very busy inside, and making some racket, but the boy. would have seen them if they went out his way,” st Dot vas all right, " answered the policeman, with a strony accent, ‘‘ but I sees dose men mit mine own eyes, myself. Mr. Beckwith vas der first to go, an’ den der udder men dey followed. I seen dem as blain as never vas. Dey did not ‘come pack, so vere did they go?” Having asked this question, the officer remoy- ed his hat and scratched his head in perplexity, Missin’ men, eh?” said Phil, remembering the incident of the boat. “ Yes; Officer Snyderham saw a gentleman ‘he knew come this Way, and now that he wants to speak with him. he can’t find him.” | “Dot man vas Mr. Thomas Beckwith, some- _ dimes called ‘ Foredop Tom, I know him mit _ personal acquaintance,” explained the patrol- man, somewhat importantly, ‘‘My pees’ness mit him vas not imbortant, but dose two men who comes right after bim looked rough enough ‘to be hard characters, you see.” _ _“Mebbe you'll eloocidate furder,” suggested Five Puints Phil. : _ Officer Snyderham did so. While on his beat a he had seen a gentleman pass, and go out on | the pier, whom he recognized as Mr. Thomas Beckwith, an ld sailor ‘Soon after twe rough- looking men went the same way. In a few minutes it occurred to him that he would Ilke to speak with Beckwith, and he had gone in search of him. All threeof the men had disappeared. ‘*Mr. Beckwith must be on von of dose ves- sels,” Snyderham added, ‘* though why he should go dere 1 can’t exblain in der least.” ** Probably he is there,” agreed Wilson. ‘See byar,” interrupted Phil, ‘‘ who was them chaps that had the boat?” “What boat?” ““The one over thar.” “The only boats there were those belonging to the vessels that lie there.” The boy shook his head siowly, ‘*T ain’t so sure 0’ that, my b’"loved corntem- porary. I see’d a boat leave thar a while ago, and it wouldn’t s’prise me ef twas the very chaps the orficer wants.” ‘*My poy,” said Snyderham, ‘‘ vot vas your name?” ** They calls me North River Nat,” answered Phil, giving Wilson a hint not to reveal his real name, “Dot vas a queer name, py Chove. Well, [ vas myself going to loox around here and see if I could find Mr. Thomas Beckwith you see.” The search was duly made, but Mr. Beckwith was not tobe found upon the pier, or aboard any of the vessels. Neither had he been seen by the sailors, but this was not strange, as nearly all were below. One circumstance was developed which was of more than passing interest. It was learned that the boat Phil bad seen did not belong to any of the vessels, nor had if been manned by members of any crew. Wiison, who had been out on the open part of the pier nearly all the evening, had not seen this boat, and it looked very much as though it had been rowed secretly to the vicinity, concealed by the craft lying there, and as secretly taken away. Officer Snyderham was somewhat worried. He had read the life of Vidocq when he first went on the force, and had ever’since been de- sirous of distinguishing himself. As a result, he was always on the watch for points. Ordinarily he would have set the men who had been seen in the boat down as thieves, but the fact that he had seen “ Foretop Tom ” go upon the pier, and that the old sailor had then disappeared so strangely, led him to draw an- other inference, Had anything happened to Beckwith? The missing man had led an adventurous life ever since his boyhood, but that did not neces- sarily mean that he was able to look out for himself; it remained a fact that old sailors are prone to get into trouble frequently. : The patrolman Mit ep all this, and inci- dentally mentioned the fact that he was well ac- quainted with Foretop Tom, having met him when visiting a Miss Katie McKeevin, who lived in the same house. As there was no proof that harm had been done the sailor, Snyderhum finally return- ed to his beat, after asking Five Points Phil where he could be found in case he wished to see him again. ** Wilson,” said the boy, when they were left alone, ‘* what d’ye think o’ this, anyhow?” “Bah! that Dutchman is scared about noth- ing; he’s always finding mares’ nests,” Wilson answered, ‘* But whar is Foretop Tom?” I doubt if it was “A mile away, Peelty went away by the he, and if it was, he proba street.” eee “The p’lice guardeen was posityve in his as- severations, though.” * Be Always [5.7 . “But I’m rayther inclined ter think he may be. tient aap ‘ 1t’s possible. “Et the sailor chap has fell afoul o’ thieves arnd pestiferous assassins, Td sorter like ter know it.” . “What! do you want to do some more amateur detective work?” - “That’s erbout the size on’t, my b’loved corn- mporary. I feel the detective fever gittin’ hold on me in a voylent form, by ginger!” ** You'd better curb it.” “Why, ain’t I always did good work? Ain’t I helped sev’ral o’ my ’quain ferous scra the cause o’ jestice along * That's all true, but Solomon Richmore is helping you to be a man of importance, as a re- ces out o’ pesti- , downin’ the yillains arnd helpin’ ward for what you did for him, You are get- ting an education—you have enough now so that yon need not use such language as you do. Fact is, you are too much of a high-spot in the world now to be acting the detective.” ‘* Fact is, my b'loved corntemporary ,” retorted Pbil, ‘I hope I won't never git so high up the Jadder that 1 can’t spare time ter help an honist individooal who isin a pestiferous fix. Fax is fax, arnd they’re stubborn things.” “Have it yourown way.” “ Jes’ sol Thank ye! Much obleeged!” coolly replied the boy. *‘Mebbe you noticed thart I tol’ the city guardeen that my name was North River Nat. Thart is ter be my name arnd title fur awhile, FKive Points Phil is too wal knowed in Gotham ter enable bim ter be a shadder, arnd that is jest whut I want ter be ef thart sailor chap is in diffikilty. Yes, sirree; ef barm has come ter him I’m goin’ ter act detec- tive ag’in, arnd while 1 do so my hame is North River Nat!” , CHAPTER IIT. MISSING FORETOP TOM, It was just after noon, the following day, _ Five Points Phil sat in the room of a house on Macdougal street, diligently perusing a book, In many ways he was as peculiar of appearance as was his speech. He was sixteen years of age, but as he was small for bis age, he did not look ever fourteen or fifteen. His face was small, sharp and shrewd—in- deed, he somehow resembled an alert rat in this respect—but it was a frank, honest, intelligent face, and though more firm then regular, not without some claim to good looks, His eyes had a shrewd, Wise expression, but often changed to that of humor. Indeed, he saw the comic side of everything, and managed to enjoy life as he went along, Once he had been exceedingly poor, and a marvel in rags; but having done a great favor toa man named Richmore, this NEE gage had put him in better garments and made ample provisions for an education for the boy. For the time being, Five Points Phil had no need to worry about money or anything else, but as it was now the summer season, he had a vacation from school and was improving the chance to look about his native city, great New York, thoroughly. As he sat reading on this occasion, a rap sounded at the door, “Come!” directed Phil. The door opened, and Policeman Snyderham entered, ‘““How you vas, North River Nat?” saluted the pe officer, who, apparently, was still ignorant of the youth’s true name. o or my b’loved corntemporary! Is it ou “Tt vas, py Chove! You vas perusin’ a bool mit yourself, I dake it.” “ Jes’ so, Mr. Patrolman.” *T haf comes to see you on pees’ness.” “ Erbout that sailor chap?’ Phil quickly asked. ve “Vahl: “Wal? ‘*] vas sure he haf met mit foul blay; he hat not peen home sence last night.” “Great ginger! I reckon them two rough- lookin’ individooals you seen on the pier aid do him mischief!” “Dot vas my obinion, py Chove!” The fat German, who Was now in citizen's orieon began to fan himself excitedly with his at, ‘it vas apout Foredop Tom.” “So you've looked the diffikilty up?” “T called to ask Miss McKeevin apout Fore- dop Tom, und see der whole family. They vas worried apout him.” Five Points Phil laid down bis book, arose, thrust both hands deeply into his pockets, and fixed his gaze steadily upon the officer, “My b’loved corntemporary, it behooves us ter look inter this, Ef some pestiferous critter hez got away with an honist sailor, it’s time fur Vidocq ter strike out with both . Fax = ‘ays arnd they’re stubborn things, Asgsoor- “ Dot vas it; Tam fins to priag der guilty barties to justice, and I vants you pecause you saw der men in der poat. I vill win fame out of this case, und get to be a detective, Dot vas der chance I haf waited for ever since I vas made one iat tae id ** Assoo Phil looked benignly at the fat officer, but if he had spoken his mind, weuld not have prophesied success for Snvderham. Honest and good-natured the German surely was, but he
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lo aked as innocent and unsopbisticated as a ebi ‘‘ Now, North River Nat, you will blease go mit me. Der prother of der missing man, Mr. Daniel Beckwith, wants to see you mit himself.” ‘* Jes’? so—come on!” Phil slap his hat upon bis head and was allready. Such celerity rather dazed Snyder- ham, but he recovered and lifted his bulky form out of the chair, They left the house, walked to Sixth avenue and took a train of the Elevated road at Highth street. While they were traveling up-town Phil asked many questions, and received a very full history of the Beckwith family. Snyderham admitted that one Katie McKeevin, who was Eudora Beckwith’s maid, was the’ source of his infor- mation, and Phil’ was not slow to perceive that the honest patrolman had a very high opinion of the said Katie. One thing only interested the listener. Daniel Beckwith, an invalid, was being doc- tored by a ‘wild man from der Vest,” as Sny- derham called the Indian doctor. ‘* That’s queer!” exclaimed Phil. ‘“ What vas queer?” ‘That a rich marn should hev sech a doctor,” **Do you know,” gravely replied the German, ‘*T pelieve dot mineself.” “ve heerd it said thar is a heap o’ good in roots arnd yarbs, ef properly a’plied, but I ain’t no faith in sech a critter ez you describe. Evy’ry leetle while sech a crowd shows up arnd tries ter cure all ills marn is heir to. ebbe they do, but afore you take Injun medicines, you warnt ter be sure they was dug in the West, not in Jarsey or Connecticut. Assooredly!” ‘*Doctor Chippewa looks to be from der West.” ‘* I must see the gent.” Phil’s wish was gratified much sooner than he expected. When they reached Daniel Beck- with’s house they were admitted by Katie McKeevin—a bright-looking young Irish girl— but bad gone no further than the hall when Doctor Heldsworth, himself, came down the stairs. Five Points Phil gazed sharply at the doctor, and the latter hesitated and looked suspiciously at the visitors, He had just comne from Daniel Beckwith, and had been told that Foretop Tom was missing. He was tempted to go back and be present at the interview which, he saw, would soon take place, but speedily abandoned the idea. He regarded Snyderham as too stupid to be dangerous, while as fcr Phil—why, he was only a boy! This disposed of him in the estmation of Doctor Chippewa. Without a word or nod to any one, he passed them with a supercilious air and left the house, Fae erham pointed after him with one fat net 3 don’t like dot man!” he declared, ‘* Loike him!” exclaimed Katie, ‘' I’d sooner loike a rattlesnake. I tell yez, Misther Snyder- ham that mon has got a heart loike a tiger an’ I know it. We all know it. Miss Eudora, she’s down on him, an’ so is that brunette ‘gent, Franklin Betts; an’ it was anit ‘isterday that honest Mr. Tom, may de Lord b iss him, nigh threw de spalpeen out ave de house.” ‘* What's that?” demanded Phil. Katie looked sharply at the questioner. ‘“My tear Miss McKeevin, explained the policeman, ‘dot poy vas my witness, und you may answer dose questions vot he ask.” ** Assuredly!” put in Phil, ‘‘ Answer ’em, by all means. Did the Injun doctor arnd Foretop Tom hey a row yesterday” “They did, that. “Come ter blower? ‘No, but they talked quite warrum!” “What erbout?” “Mr. Tom didn’t want de quack doctor ter come here wid his hi medicines, an’ he tol’ him so plain, an’ they had a great row, I can till ese n es: ax, arnd they’re stubborn things. Tell me the thull story ef ye please. My mind i is of a joodicial arnd inquirin’ turn, oer I'd like . ter hear the fax.” Katie had been a listener to the trouble in the hall, and she gave a vivid account of it, Her recollection of the exact words uttered was but dim, but she stated thateach had threatened the ‘other, and that Doctor Chi ppewa had only gained entrance to his patient atter a stormy in- terview. Furthermore, Thomas Beckwith had after- ward declared, when talking with Miss Eudora, that he would help Chippewa out if he had to barricade the door. Five Points Phil saw a good deal in this, He a cee ee ee PO et ee ete ___s—sNorth River Ni River Nat. had seen Holdsworth; he had noticed what a cold, cruel face the Indian doctor had; and if he had felt any faith in the Westerner it would have vanished at sight. But there was more, The doctor and Foretop Tom had had a bitter quarrel; threats had been freely used, and the old sailor had tried to help Chippewa away trom Daniel Beckwith. The great question now iu Phil’s mind was, had Chippewa, to prevent being defeated by Tom, removed tue latter from bis path by vio- lence? Phil did not mention his suspicions, for neither Katie nor Snyderham seemed to entertuin any clear idea in the same virection, but asked nu- merous questions and acquired nll the informa- tion he could, Finally be and the patrolman went up to Mr. Daniel Beckwith’s room. The invalid sat in his big chair, as usual; the temperature of the room was as higb and the air as stifling as usual; and, as usual, B. Frank- a Betts stood demurely ‘behind his master’s chair. Officer Snyderham was evidently in great awe of the rich man, and he walked forward with a ponderous attempt to step lightly. ‘*Dot vas der poy, Mr. Beckwith,” he an- nounced, ‘* Ah!” said the invalid, with a heavy sigh. ‘‘ Come here, boy, where T'can see you.’ ‘* Assooredly,” Phil coolly replied. ‘‘ Hope I see you wal, my b’loved corntemporary.” “Well?” cried Beckwith; ‘‘I baven’t been well for years.” ‘* Now I obsarve ye more closer, ye do look sorter played out, by ginger!” “Tam Past nearing the final home of man,” lugubriously added Beckwith. ‘Goin’ ter move, be ye?” “ Te-he! yp Solomon B. Franklin Betts had done a ver ~ improper thing. His solemnity only being skin- deep, he had laughed in a peculiar, half-smother- way. His master at once grew mournfully displeased, ‘Franklin! ‘Yes, sah.” “Did you laugh?” ‘*No, sah. I ’most sneezed, but I choked it off ’cause Us afeerd it would make yer left knee swell more,’ Mr. Betts made this explanation as seriously as though he bad never Jaughed in bis life. ‘*T am glad to hear it, Franklin.” ‘* Yes, sah.” sh Now, boy,” continued Beckwith, ‘‘ I shall be glad to hear what you know about. my missing brother,” ' * Assooredly. It ain't much, but you’re wel- come to it, sech as tis.” With this preface Five Points Phil went on and told the whole story of his experience on the pier, It was soon told, De spite his resolu- tion to investigate Foretop Tom’s disappear- ance he was not in the least inclined to confide in Daniel Beckwith, or advance any theories, so the latter obtained only dry facts. * Several questions occur to me,” said the in- valid, with a heavy sigh. ‘ You say there were but two men in the boat?” ‘** Thart’s all thart I seen.” What do you mean?” ‘‘Tbar might ’a’? been another layin’ down in the boat.” ~ ‘‘This had occurred to me. You are sure there was no cry for help, nor of pain?” ‘¢ Didn’t hear no sech man’festation.” ** Yet my poor brother might have been mur- dered and sunk in the water just. beyond the ier.” ‘** Assooredly. ‘What is wa Boorves “Can't sav I hev a posityve one; it might ’a’ been either way.” ‘‘Dat vas for me to learn, Mr, Beckwith,” said Snyderham. ‘‘ You vill remember I vas one of der finest—a boleesmans of dat New York. Lshall der trail pick up mit my sagacity, und clear der whole nase blain,” ‘*™o this, and you shall be well rewarded,” earnestly replied ‘Beckwith. “T feel sure my poor brother has met with foul play—solve the mystery, and I will pay a good round sum!” CHAPTER IV. THE INDIAN DOCTOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY. Tus offer made Officer Snyderham’s eyes twinkle perceptibly. “Dot vas good!” he affirmed, “und I vas going to earn dot money, marry Kale und start a corner ener PY Chove. cra- ore I thi cious! I spoke out Oke Rene vould —— ee sit down on my ears mit her hand if she heard me say dot!” The honest patrolman grew very red in his: embarrassment, and though Beckwith’s melan- choly was proof even against this, Phil and Franklin Betts were very much amused, Phil winked at the colored gentleman, and then the latter had. to clasp both bands tightly over his. mouth to void laughing vociferously. ‘*T stand ready to keep my promise, officer, am replied Beckwith. ‘‘ Go op and do your best.” e then turned his gaze upon Phil. ** What is your name, my lad?’ ‘““North River Nat.” ‘That's a peculiar name.” ‘** Assooredly, but. ye see thar was sech a big fam’ly on us t art they thought a change would: be beneficial in my case. Thar was too many Smiths, arnd not enough o' other creeds, arnd denominations, Hence, my cognomen 0” North River Nat.” ‘* Are you busy?” “ Not ter my knowledge.” “J would like to have you about here until this matter is settled, tor you may be able to identify the men you saw in the boat. Can I hire you for awhile?” ‘“* Great ginger, yes! I’m out o’ a job jest now, arnd I’d jump at the chance,” Phil meant all that he said; he had become interested in the case of Foretop Tom, and as he already had a theory in the case, it would aid him greatly to be given the freedom of the house. ‘* Consider yourself engaged, then, Jf don’t imagine there will be anything in particular for you to do, unless. it is to run an occasional errand, but { want you where you can be found. Will four dollars a week, and your board, be pay enough?” Phil would as readily have come without any pay at all, and he accepted the offer without. argument. Snyderham was then directed to escort him to the lower part of the house, and present him to Miss Eudora Beckwith in his new capacity. Phil kept his own counsel, and as Beckwith judged him wholly by his humble garments, he did not dream the boy was so situated that employment was not an object. udora proved to be a very Bait he young lady, indeed. Having lived nearly all her life in Herkimer county, she had grown up strong and healthy, and she so combined these qualities with real beauty, that Phil mentally pronounced her ‘‘ as pooty as a pictur’!” She showed no reluctance to admit him to the house as a member of the domestic department thereof; she was strongly attached to her miss- ing uncle, and if the boy SFr help to find him, he, was certainly very welcome. So Snyderbam went away alone, and Phil re-- mained as directed. He gave his name as North River Nat, and as that was hardly satisfactory to Miss Eudora, added the surname of Smith. Then he fairly entered upon bis new career, and for the present we will know him, as did the family, xs North River Nat—otherwise as Na- thanael Smith. During the afternoon he made himself as famil- iar as was possible with the state of affairs, and the more he heard aboutjDoctor Chippewa Holds- worth, the more he was inclined to suspect him. He was getting a good deal of money out of Daniel Beckwith, but Foretop Tom had threat- ened to crive him out of the house, If the Indian doctor was a rascal, and the boy believed that he was, it would be the most likely thing in the world that he would try to remove the obstacle to his success, That evening Chippewa called ain. He had been calling twice a day, and that was not strange, but something unusual occurred this time. When Kate McKeevin opened the door Nat was li: tening near the top of the basement stairs, and he hear Beckwith on important business, Katie was surprised, but she feltso sure that her young mistress would refuse to see him that she went at once to the parlor, where Eudora was sitting, and delivered the message, Greatly to her surprise, the young lady said she would see him at once, and Holdsworth en- peek the room with a look of triumph on his ae he walked in, North River Nat entered the back parlor. {[t was not the proper thing to do to act Pthe listener, but the boy was determined to overhear What occurred. He had been given a roving commission, as_it phe. and he intend- ed to shadow Holdsworth closel y. If he was discovered, be would tell Miss Beck- the Indian doctor ask to see Miss a
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| a | | with all, and trust to her common sense to par- don bim. By the time he had gained position near the hanging curtain between the two rooms Chip- pewa had made his opening speech, whatever that was. ‘*T suppose, Miss Beckwith, that you are sur- prised that I should ask for you,” he added. ‘*Somewhat, I confess,” Eudora coldly re- plied, ‘*T wish to speak of your uncle.” ‘* My uncle!” ‘Ves, Is he still missing?” “ He is, sir.” ‘* What is your theory in the case?” “T confess that I do not know what to think.” *Isn’t it possible that he has gone to sea, again?” ** Decidedly not, sir. He promised to stay with us all summer.” “T may be bai continued Holdsworth, assuming a thoughtful frown, ‘but I have a theory. Iam told that a West India ship sailed last night, on which, owing to the unpopularity of the captain, they found it very hard to get a crew. There are rumors that some sailors were impressed—in other words, kidnapped.” “ And do you think Uncle Thomas was one of them?” ‘*Such a thing is pos:ible.” “ How could they get him?” “Did he say where he was going when he went out?” “He said he was going out for a walk along the piers,” Eudora confessed. ** Ah! doesn’t that confirm what I said?” Chippewa had not been told what Snyder- ham and North River Nat saw on the pier, and Eudora had no intention of making it known. ‘““Why are you interested in my uncle?” she bluntly asked. ‘*T am your father’s doctor.” "You owe Uncle Thomas no thanks for it; ‘you and he were not frien 's.” ‘*My dear Miss Beckwith, I trust that I have a mind above the petty antagonisms of life,” bland!y answered Chippewa. ‘‘ Mr. Thomas | Beckwith was opposed to me, but I should be sorry to have him come to harm, if for no other reason than that such a thing will inevitably | make your father worse.” Eudora was silent, and after a brief pause the Indian doctor added: “If you, Miss Beckwith, would only give me | credit for being an honest man, I would be | greatly pleased. Your good-will-would be inex- | pressibly dear to me!” The man from the West lowered and softened his voice, and watchful North River Nat opened his keen eyes wider than ever, “ Great ginger!” he thought, ‘‘ the pestiferous critter is goin’ ter make love ter her, sureas mer- | lasses!” ‘“*T have not said that you lack my good-will,” Eudora coldly replied. ‘Ah! but yon have been opposed to my at- ‘tendance upon your father, I fear.” ‘That is true,” “Is he not improving under my treatment?” ‘Sir, the best <loctors of New York have said | that his ailments are purely imaginary. This is | not a pleasant thing for a daughter to say, but such is the fact.” “ Really, I must disagree with these learned doctors. At the time I took charge of the case, | your father was approaching a most critical point. Because those doctors failed to under- stand his trouble, they have no right vo thus grossly wrong & suffering man,” “We will not discuss that.” ne you persist in having a poor opinion of ‘me ‘Tam not your patient.” The evasive answer did not overpower Chip- | ews. “JT would be your friend, Miss Beckwith,” he | said, boldly, and his eye rested upon her ina way which made her start, ‘Excuse me,” she returned, hastily, “ but have you business with me?” * Have I not spoken of your uncle?” **VYes, Have you said all? If so, I shall have ‘to ask you to excuse me,” Y Y Holdsworth bit his lips with mortification and +. SEE A ee a a et ee ee ee ee ee ee eee eee ee a can,” “You can give your theory to my father.” Endora rose as she spoke, “What she had not before suspected came to her like a revelation; ‘this man, whom she so disliked and feared, was actually placing himself as her admirer. The ‘idea eS her, ’ A e appeared on Chippewa’s face, but it North River Nat. was nota pleasant smile, There was something of chagrin, anger, menace and confident power in it, and though he bowed low as she passed out of the room, watchful North River Nat, ob- serving all from his covert, was somehow re- minded of a snake about to make a meal, The Indian doctor went up-stairs to Daniel Beckwith, while Nat sought Miss Beckwith, and asked leave to ‘‘ ge out and look around a bit.” This was readly granted, and he went at once. His movements after he was once clear of the house were Hardly those of one who is anxious to explore a locality. The vicinity lacked a good deal of being fully built up, and completed dwellings were mixed with those in process of erection, and with vacant lots, North River Nat took position beside one of the unfinished houses, sat down and proceeded to wait patiently. Half an hour elapsed. During this time sev- eral persons passed, and he gave each one care- ful attention, but did nt seem to find anything of interest about them. Finally quick, firm steps were followed by the appearance of the indian doctor, and the boy became at once all attention, : Chippewa went unsuspectingly on, and Nat fell in behind him and followed like an Indian on the trail. CHAPTER V. NORTH RIVER NAT’S ADVENTURES, PLAINLY, Holdsworth did not have any suspi- cion that he was liable to be followed, for he did not once look around, If he had, it is not likely that the young pursuer would have been de- tected. e kept well back, and the darkness acted like a curtain to help him. The Indian doctor went a few blocks, turning at right-angles a few times, and then Nat saw that they were approaching his destination. In a vacant lot just ahead the dull, white outline of a tent became visible; this was where Chippewa had settled down with his red-skins, to cure whatever bodily trovbles might beset the people of New York. He went promptly te the lot and inside the tent. It now became Nat’s great desire to see the inside of this place, and he did not know what | obstacles or dangers might confront him. Pos sibly Holdsworth would have one of his Indians on guard. Nat studied the state of affairs, and then slow ly and cautiously approached the rear of the tent. At first he had been afraid that he would bave some trouble to get a good look without injur- ing the canvas, but chance favored him, Some other boy, with far less important an object, had cut a slit which had escaped notice, and when Nat pulled it wide open there was nothing more to baffle him, There was, with the exception of the men, lit- tle inside to attract attention, but on an im- provised table stood an array of bottles which contained medicine all ready to be passed over in exchange for that more substantial article— New York money. Holdsworth and his Indians were there. The doctor had taken position on a camp-stcol, while the red-men were squatted down almost like so many statues, An active conversation had already beeun, but not one word of it could North River Nat understand, He was willi.g to believe that it was in the Indian tongue—it was certainly gut- tural and complicated enough to fill bis idea of the language of the noble red-man. ** So this ere is the gang that does the big doc- tor act!” thought Nat, scornfully, ‘‘ Great ginger! IT wouldn’t trust’em ter doctor a sick cat, let alone a hooman individooal. They look like cut-throats arnd p’isoners—they assoorealy do! Don’t see how that big tough kin so bam- poozle Dan’! Beckwith, but a mari may smile | arnd be a villain still.” His estimate of the quartette was certainly correct, as far as outward signs went, From a ‘« bale-face’s” point of view no Indian is hand- some, but Chippewa’s red-men really looked brutal and dangerous to an extreme, Nat was interested in them, however. He had unger. ° _. .._ | seen similar combinations in New York before, **T wish to aid you to find Mr, Beckwith, if I , t ‘ut never one which particularly attracted his attention, Mel nless all signs failed he was destined to have considerable experience with these men, and he looked them over carefully, While he was thus engaged the tent-entrance was suddenly darkened, and two white men ap- peared there, Holdsworth promptly rose, — PEER aE ~, Pe e: a: 5 “Ha! is it you, my dear Greggs?” he ex- claimed. ‘Glad to see you—come in! And here is Parsons, too. You’re both welcome,” He shook their hands, and then motioned to- ward the squatting figures at one side. ‘* These are my noble red-men, Walking Bear, Sun-that-Shines and War-Wolf,” Chippewa then arranged camp-stools for his guests. ‘*Sit down, and be happy,” he said. ‘‘Can I cure you of anything?” Greggs, who was a flashily-dressed, shrewd- lookine man, evidently a New Yorker, laughed ryly. x i don't think you can, Doc.” “Plenty of medicine on the table.” my That's for rich folks, who have more money th: n-- “Yes, yes; I know,” hastily agreed Holds- worth. ‘‘I am glad you’re not sick. Any news?” “ce No.” ‘¢ All lovely, then?” “ec Yes.” ‘*Where’s your other man—Moody?” ** He’s making himself useful—” “That's all right,” interrupted Chippewa, So everything is quiet on the Potor ac?” ** Just so,” “Glad ye think so,” muttered North River Nat, who was listening greedily, ‘‘Ef you chaps ain’t got asecret onderstandin’, my name is Dennis. eep it up, ye pestiverous critters; I’d jest like ter hev ye put me onter yer little game, by ginger!” } This they did not seem inclined to do, Either Chippewa did not trust bis red-men, or he had heard the old saying that walls may have ears. Whatever Greggs might have said he promptly checked. The impression was strong in Nat’s mind that such a revelation would interest him, for he be- lieved that the visitors were as big rascals as Chippewa. Parsons, in particular, wasa coarse, brutal-looking fellow. At last the two men arose to go. Chippewa stepped outside the door and exchanged a few words with Greggs, but Nat had no way of hear- ing what it was; he eould not get near, and their voices were lowered. Only a little was said: then the doctor return ed to the tent, while Greggs and Parsons walked away. “They're my game!” muttered Nat. “TI don’t know who they be in perlite society, but I warn't ter most tremenjus, They come ter say suthin’ private ter the white Injun, arnd it be- hooves me ez a joodicial arnd honest citizen. ter git onter their game. Look out, Greggsy-—-Vm a-comin’, by ginger!” And he fell in behind them, resolved to track them to their lair, wherever that was. After a few turns and a few minutes’ walk they reached Eighty-first street, and then pvo- ceeded westward, Beyond the Elevated Road building operations were in full blast—though, of course, not being prosecuted at night—and half-finished structures arose on either side, while the middle of the street was filled with piles of bricks, lumber and sand, Past all these went the men, still continuing on Highty-first street. Nat began to have a theory as to where they were going, He remembered that after passing Tenth avenue there was a vacant lot on either side, and then the character of the neighborhood abruptly changed. Modern buildings were al- most unknown there, and more or less humble wooden houses were mixed with a segment of “ Shanty-town,” these structures only ending when Riverside Boulevard was reached. He at once leaped to the conclusion that Greggs and Parsons would either go to one of these huts, or cross the Boulevard and the Hud- son River Railroad, and take to a boat. His first idea proved correct. ‘The men went on to the collection of wooden buildings, and entered a shanty which looked as though a strong breath of wind would blow it down in hopeless ruin. Nat paused, looked around, and was impressed by the humorous side of the case, “This hyar is wot I call classic ground, by ginger!” he muttered. ‘* The street ain’t so ele- gant as it might be, nor the sidewalk as pooty, arnd the habit 0’ teamsters ©’ usin’ the king’s highway eza Stable fur their wagons ain’t ac- cordin’ ter my idees 0’ hooman fitness, but these habitations are romantic arnd noomerons, arnd they hey the flavor o’ antiquity erbout, ’em. VI bet a counterfit ten-cent piece Mr. C. Colum- bus erected these palatial structures. Think I'll buy one myself, arnd hev my post-office ar’dress changed ter Eighty-first street!” ‘ - = ie - ; ee a ee Rg ee
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Suddenly arousing, he looked sharply toward the low house Greggs and Parsons had entered, ‘*T warn’t to see thart place inside out,” he added. He surveyed it carefully, calculating his chances of escaping detection if he investigated. Thus far he had no proof that the men he had followed were other than honest citizens, and he did not want to get into trouble or worry worthy men—his mission was to defeat rascals, After a little reconnoitering he glided for- ward, made a few turns among the smal: build- ings, and approached the one he wished to inves- tigate from the rear, ; . found the door open, and everything ark, ‘It’s a burglarious thing ter do,” he mutter- ed, ‘but I’m in fur it, arnd it wou’t do fur me ter back out now.” Hesitating only a little longer, Nat crept cau- tiously up the stairs, When he reached the top he found himself in a short hall. It was with- out a lamp or gas, but a door just beyond be- ing ajar, sent out enough light to break the gloom a little. From the room beyond the door came the sound of voices, and as Nat feltsure that Greggs and Parsons were there, he crept forward. It would be dangerous to look inside, but once more chance favored him. At the side of the hall was a small closet; the Alor of this being open showed that a small window had been fitted into it, to secure light from the room beyond. It was just the place. Nat quickly entered, pulled the door to behind him, stepped upon a trunk, and, looking through the window, had the desired view of the men, They were three in number, two being Greggs and Parsons, The third was a fellow who looked as Villainous as Parsons, Wat found that he could easily hear what was said, and he proceeded to listen, His mind, however, was not at ease; he did not like the part he was playing. There might be no real reason why he should thus shadow the men, and his entrance to the house had been decidedly un- ceremonious. Whether they held secrets which he wished to know o1 not, they were desperate-looking men, and discovory might prove fatal, CHAPTER VI. THE BOY IN THE CLOSET. Sih NortH River Nat pressed his face close to the window and listened eagerly, “Times are mighty hard,” said the unknown man. ‘ Why, 1 ain’t had a square meal fur a week, and the Lord only knows when I will. New York is gettin’ too goody-goody fur me.” ‘‘Times ain’t what they was,” Parsons agreed, *“‘T was down on the bluff t?other day,” pur- sued the disconsolate man, ‘‘ an’ when I seen the Hudson River train comin’ I was a good mind ter go down an’ let ’em run over me, but I hated ter be done up by a freight train, Ive some pride left, ef I be poor.” “Thats the way ter talk.” “Nobody hez asked me ter doa job fur an age, an’ I’m sorter losin’ my nerve, anyhow. om, Abe an’ Dan are all in Sing Sing, an’ I don’t want ter go.” “Brace up, man!” interrupted Greggs, ‘* You ran never na anything without nerve, Faint heart don’t get boodle.” “Be you takin’ risks now?” * Certainly.” “What racket be you on?” ‘‘Never mind that.” “4. Nothin’ more than the confidence game, Ili pet. ‘We dropped a man t/other night!” ‘ Parsons made the assertion with the quick in- dignation of one who feels his business nerve and sagacity assailed, but Greggs turned angrily upon him. | : “Don’t give your brains away !” he ordered. “T see ye don’t trust me,” grumbled the stranger. ‘Nonsense, Alf. You and I have been in too many jobs for you to think that, but You know it was always your own motto that, ‘What is one outsider’s business, is everybody’s business,’ We're in delicate business, you see.” “ Boodle in it?” ‘* Good promises,” “But not sure pay “Tt may prove so,” ‘When I silence a man, I make sure the pay is good. : EThat's all right,” acknowledged Greggs, “but. this is a peculiar case—a very peculiar case, eh?” North River Nat. “Tl bet, Alf, that you can’t guess who our boss is,” interrupted Parsons. oe You shut up, will you?” angrily cried reggs, “Oh! all right,” replied Alf; “I don’t know that I blame you. Ef you’ve knocked a man over you want ter be mighty keerful. Say, Greggs, ef you see a chance for me, give me a tip, will ye?” wo Der Greggs was thoughtful for a moment, and then he slowly added: ‘This case may yet give you a chance, Our employer is playing a bold game, and there is no knowing what he may have to do before he gets through, If another man is needed, [ll give you the chance, Alf, sure.” The melancholy man’s face brightened, ‘*Youw’re a brick, Randall Greggs!” he declar- ed, ‘tan’ [’ll show ye that 1 appreciate a good turn, I’ve got a bottle o’ beer put away, an’ Tl hev it out,” So saying, Alf arose in great good-humor end proceeded to make good his offer, At first sight it would ba supposed that this offer did not particularly interest North River Nat, as he had received no invitation whatever ; but it remained a fact that the matter was of great interest to him, Alf came out into the hall, and as he did so he explained; ‘Beer is a luxury with me, now my pocket- book is bu’sted, an’ I keep it hid in this closet.” North River Nat started. He had seen noth- ing of the beer, and did not know whether it was in the closet or not; but one other thing was certain—he was there, and if Alf came in he would certainly be discovered, What was to be done? Acting on the impulse of the moment, the boy stepped down from the trunk, seized the door and held fast, AJf laid hold on the opposite side and pulled gently, It did not open He pulled again, using more strength. Still it did not open, ‘** That’s queer,” he observed; ‘‘ I never knowed this door ter stick before. I reckon the wet weather swelled the wood,” He gave a jerk. It was a severe trial for Nat, who felt sure that the next effort would result in favor of Alf. That person, however, turned back toward the main room. ; : *‘T reckon this will open it,” he said, picking up a long, dull knife, the blade of which was strong if not sharp. Idle curiosity is easily aroused, and Greggs and Parsons, understanding that he proposed to pry the door open, arose and followed him, In the mean while, North River Nat had been doing some rapid thinking, Hé knew that he could not long ‘‘ hold the fort” against Alf, and he laid his plans for rapid action. He heard the other men moving, and, springing back by the top of the trunk, laid hold of the win- ow, This swung on hinges like a door, and had once been furnished with a hook by which to secure it, but this had long since gone the way of all things earthly—at least, it was not on the window, y Quickly Nat swung the sash back, All three men were in the hall, The boy was as nimble as a cat, and having conceived the plan of going through the window to the next room, he acted promptly. With a vick movement he squirmed to the level of the window, slipped through, and dropped al- most noiselessly on the other side—an achieve- ment of which a contortionist might not have been ashamed, ; “‘T thought the knife would open it,” said Alf, at this moment, as he pulled the closet door open. ‘* Now for the beer.” Nat looked sharply around, The men were between him and the way of retreat; he could not go down as he had come uP, and they would soon return to the room. What could he do? The front window was open, but the best way seemed to be to hide for a while. He had selected a place for this when Alf unexpectedly appeared in the doorway, bottle in hand, ‘* Hullo!” he said, blankly. ‘ He had seen Nat, and was staring at him in amazement, How the boy had come there he did not know. ‘* Here’s an inferna; spy!” he abruptly added, and a most hostile look appeared on his face. ‘J say, you young scamp, what are you doin’ here—" The sentence was not finished. Nat did not care so very much abont Alf, but was very anx- ious that Greggs and Parsons should not see his face. He could conceive of but one way to pre- vent this, and the open window scemed to be the key to the situation. Quickly he made a rush toward it; a few steps took him to the spot. He took a hurried sur- vey. Owing to the fact that the house was so. small and so old-fashioned, it was only a few feet to the greund. He must risk the leap or be captured. f saw his intention, and rushed forward with outstretcbed hands. Forgetting the fact that he had no valuables, he believed he had dis- covered a thief, He reached out to grasp him, but as he did so the boy disappeared—he had taken the leap. Short as the distance seemed it preyed to be no trifling affair. Nat alighted on W&eet, but experienced a heavy shock and fell to Me ground. He was up again in a moment and running away, and then he had no fear. He plunged into the thickest part of the shanties, and did not pause until he had reached Riverside Boule- vard. Then he came to a halt in a retired place, : “Great ginger!” he panted, ‘that was a pes- tiferous close shave, Don’t want another jump like that, It driv my legs right up through my body, ernd I reckon my hip-bene must be stick- in’ up above my shoulders. Fax is fax, arnd they’re stubborn things.” He paused to brush the dust from his knees, and then resumed: ‘Pye been in another burglarious scrape. North River Nat, this won’t do. It’s ag’in’ the law ter introod in a private house, even ef vil- lains live thar, arnd you must keep out on ’em. The majesty o’ law is sacred ter all honist minds, Assooredly, Still, the idee is strong in. my mind thart in Gregesy arnd Parsons I hev struck ile, so ter remark,’ Still keeping his place, he tried to recall what he had overheard when in the closet. Two remarks stood out distinctive and sug- gestive. Parsons had said that he and Greggs had “dropped a man the other night,” and Greggs had added that they were engaged upon. “‘a very peculiar case,” “Fits like a glovel” decided the boy. ‘It would be rayther a pecooliar case ef they worked fur the Injun doctor, arnd ef they was the ones thart fell afoul o’ poor Foretop Tom, it sorter explains what Parsons said. Hc lle!” He sturted as he saw two men crossing tho’ Boulevard, They were Greggs and Parsons, and . they were walking rapidly. “Scared out, eh?” thought Nat. ‘‘ Wal, now, I hev a presentiment tha t it’s my bounden dooty ter foiler ’em ag’in, ef Ikin. Oh! thart’s: whar they’re goin’, is it?” At that point there was a break in the wall which made the western boundary of the Boule- vard, with a vacant lot beyond, between the: street ard the river. The men had turned into this lot, ‘“‘They’re either goin’ ter cross the river ina boat, or ketch onter a movin’ train. They go: ‘mighty slow past hyer, when draggin’ a hull boodle o’ freight-cars. ell see!” He hurried across the bouleyard, and then waited in the cover of the wail until the man was nearly through the lot. They passed along the side of the steep hill which rises at that point, but the moment they disappeared, Nat ran after them. His faith that they would take one of the two courses mentioned by him was so- strong that he had no fear of losing them other- wise. , When next he caught sight of them they were: crossing the tracks of the Hudson River Road, Nat could hear no train approaching, and as they did not seem te be looking for one, he fell back on the boat theory, The shipping interest is not lively at this point of the river, but be could see two schooners just off the land, while several row-boats were drawn up out of the water, The men were proceedin toward one of these, and Nat composedly sat down on the billside, : “*T reckon I’ve got ter let ’em zo, or else swim the pestiferous old river, and they might lead me a cbase ©’ several miles, I won't try it. Assooredly not!” ; : Greggs and Parsons promptly entered a boat, it was pushed off, and then one of them began to use the oars, The boat was at once headed due west, : Goin’ over ter Jarsey, by ginger. I thought. sO 1t did appear that such was the men’s destina- tion, for up to the time when their craft vanished from his gaze in the darkness it steadily held its. first course. _He looked across the broad stream to where the Jersey bluffs showed grim and dark. on the other side, and then arose,
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“Go it, ye pestiferous snakes!” he muttered, “Tain’t so sitterated thart I kin foller ye now, but ’'m on the trail, and Vll git thar Jest the same. I reckon this case is jest erbout rich enough fur my blood, arnd ef I don’t lay the Injun doctor out flatter than a pan-cake, I ain’t the ex-pride o’ the Five Points, Assooredly!”’ The boy retraced his steps to the Boulevard, Having a wholesome respect for the man Alf, he did not vénture to go near Eighty-first street again, but walked a few blocks north, and then took an easterly course, It had been his intention to go back to Daniel Beckwith’s at once, but something occurred to change his plans, He had just reached Ninth avenue when a man passed down that street at a brisk pace. Nat came to a sudden stop, and then turned the corner and looked after him, It was Doctor oneews Holdsworth! ‘Hyar’s game!” thought the young detective. “The yarb doctor is goin’ som’ers in hot haste arnd it becomes my solemn dooty ter foller. Vil do it!” And he fell in behind Chippewa, keeping at a safe distance, and watching keenly for danger. Holdsworth, however, did not once look be- hind him, but, having reached Highty-first street, ascended the stairs to the Elevated Road, Nat did the same, Each purchased a ticket, and as adown-train at that moment arrived, romptly took passage. The boy entered a car behind that occupied by the Indian doctor, and the pursuit was continued by rail. CHAPTER VII. DOCTOR CHIPPEWA’S SCHEME. THE young detective bad taken position at the front end of the car, and from this point he Me could watch to see when the Indian doctor left the train, without danger of losing bim, It was a long ride, for Chippewa sat nearly motionless until the corner of eeth avenue and Fourteenth street was reached. Then he got out, de- F scended the stairs and started east through the latter thoroughfare. He seemed to think that he was late, for he stepped out briskly, and compared his watch with the big, round clock on the opposite side of the street, i ; North River Nat followed patiently, and was led to Union Square. The hour was not yet j so late that the average New Yorker though it time to retire, and the light of the electric tower ie descending upon and through the trees made F checker-board work of black and white, light Bae and shade, upon the ground and the many per- a sons who occupied the benches. , —* te Dr. Chippewa strolled through the Park, look- wi: sharply at the loungers. He’s lookin’ fur some one, arnd thart one is a@ woman,” thought the attentive pursuer. cy * Reckon he’s got an ap’intiwent.” His theory was soon veritied. Holdsworth started, and then went forward and greeted a girl on one of the benches, Nat’s sharp eyes at once marked her as one of tue lower classes— robably a servant. Whatever she was the M esterner did not hesitate to sit down beside ni - her. _ “Now whar do J come in?” thought Nat. om , Strong in the faith that what was to be said would be of interest to bim, he determined Aes to hear it. Circumstances were somewhat in Nie et his favor. The other benches being so crowded was one good thing, and the shadow of the trees Was another. Nat sauntered as_near as he dared, and then listened eagerly. He was well rewarded. The name of the girl proved to be Kitty Roslyn, and she was evidently pleased with Holdsworth, He talked in his blandest way, and was as polite as if she was a princess, but it soon. transpired that he was tempting her to crime. : She was a servant ina boarding-house, and he wanted her to steal some jewelry from cer. tain boarders and put it in the trunk of one Erwin Heselton, another boarder, with the pur- e of having that unfortunate man proved tne thief and, of course, arrested at once, _ Kitty demurred. She had never been a criminal, and though of weak nature, did not wish to be; but Doctor Chippewa used all his eloquence. He not only flattered and coaxed her, but produced money which he offered her then and there if she would agree to do the work, | . She hesitated—yielded, She was poor and weak-minded, and in the end she agreed to do _ all that he asked. ; This being settled, they separated, She said that she had a call to make on Avenue B before going home, and walked away in that direction; North River Nat. while Doctor Chippewa went down Fourth avenue. All this North River Nat had heard without being discovered. 4 ‘Wal, hyar’s a go!” he thought. ‘‘ Chippy is a terror on wheels, arnd he’s goin’ ter ruin— Say, ve gotan idee. Pll see Erwin Hexelton right.away ef I kin.” He hunted up a Directory and, by good luck, found the name he sought. The address was Bank street, and he made all possible haste to get to that place, He was soon in the presence of Heselton, who proved to be a fine-looking young man whom Nat liked at first sight. The boy plunged into his subject at once, and though Heselton was, at first, uncommunica- tive, developments followed. Heselton said that he had heard of Holdsworth, but knew no reason why he should be his enemy; but when Nat, who had an idea, asked if he knew Eudora Beckwith, they both suw clearer. Heselton had originally come from Herkimer county, like the Beekwiths; Eudora had once been his promised wife; but when some misun- derstanding arose they had quarreled and sepa- rated, and Erwin had decided to leave New York and go West, When this was told it occurred to Nat that Holdsworth, not knowing that the lovers had had trouble, and desiring Eudora for his own wife, had formed this scheme to separate them forever. Heselton coincided. He was as much attached to Eudora as ever, and when he heard of her danger, he decided to defer the Western trip, remove to the house of a friend up-town, and belp fight her battles, Nat had revealed to him all that he thought prudent about the case, The young New Yorker was too shrewd to tell all he knew to any com- parative stranger, The interview was prolonged for some time, and Heselton agreed to make the contemplated removal the next day, and then wait for further news from Nat. This being decided, the latter left the house, took the Elevated Road, and re- turned to Daniel Beck with’s house. He was so late in getting back that be barely missed being locked out; Katie MecKeevin had sat up for him, but her patience had been nearly exhausted before hecame. Nat contrived to put her in a good-humor, and then retired, | The next morning Eudora sent him out ona short errand, and then there was no more for him todo. It was evident that Daniel Beckwith told the truth when he said that the only object in hiring him was to have him near in cas» there were new developments in regard to Fore- top Tom. Yoretop Tom did not return, and the police were formully notified. This step had not been taken before for two reasons—'l'om, like most sailors, was very uncertain, and he would cer- tainly resent an alarm if he was all right. North River Nat was no sooner at liberty than he set off for the pier where Patrolman Snyderham believed that the sailor had met with foul play. The place during the day was very unlike what it was at night. Wilson was not there as a watchman, and business was very lively all along the pier, Nat saw with considerable sat- isfaction that the same vessels were still at hand, for he had come with the intention of interview- ing the crews more thoroughly, t seemed odd to him that any tragedy could have taken place there and they be wholly igno- rant of it. If Foretop Tom had been murdered and thrown ito the water there would have been a splash, while if the body had been con- veyed to the boat, it must have been taken across tne deck of one of the larger craft. While he stood on the edge of the pier a voice hailed him from the deck of a schooner near at; hand. He looked, and recognized a sailor whom Wilson and Snyderham had questioned the night of the mystery. Hullo, my b’loved corntemporary,” Nat re- turned, ‘‘May I come aboard?” ‘¢ Come on,” was the reply. Nat promptly obeyed, and sat down beside the two sailors who were idling there, “This isa sharp rat I seen the other night,” explained his former acquaintance, ** Rats hev teeth, arnd they bite like Ceesar,” returned Nat, suggestively. 7 I don’t believe you want ter bite me.” Assooredly not. I ain’t on the war-path ter any great extent jest now.” y se that missin’ man been found” “uN, Sir; he ain’t,’ lags ap eet Mye think on’t? ; | ied I think some pestiferous critter did him a wrong arnd maley’lent act, by ginger!’ The sailors exchanged glances. ‘He war a salt-water rover, jest like you two, arnd you ought ter feel moved ter pity fur him ef a land-shark got away with bim, ‘*That’s about so.” “T can’t git the idee outer my head, Mr. Sailor Man, thart somebody round hyar knowed more erbout thart affair than was tol’.” ‘Why so?” ‘*'Your schooner was right hyar, arnd the row-boat must ’a’ b’en jest beyond. I b’lieve the roughs crossed this deck, by ginger!” Nat bad no reason to think so, but he wanted to impress the sailor, so he spoke with feigned confidence, “You're ’way off, youngster, but thar is one thing cropped up this mornin’? which means business,” ‘* What's that?” ‘You see this handsome gent hyar.” The sailor pointed to his companion. “ Yes,” ‘* Wal, he’s Jack Riker, an’ he’s pretty nigh home, fur his sister lives in the house across the way; the biggest one, ye see. Wal, his sister tol? him news this mornin’ when he called on her;” ** What news?" ‘* She asked him who had the drunken squabble on this pier Monday night.” ** Was there one?” a ho Nobody knows 0’ one, but she says she seen it. : " 7 Mebbe that was them sharks onter Foretop om, , ** Shoot me ef I don’t think so, myself, an’ Pve notified the perlice.” ‘ That’s bad,” “Why bad?” Nat did not care to state that he wanted the detective work in the case all to himself, so he explained his exclamation by saying that he re- ferred to the news of the “drunken squabble.” ** What was it like?” he added. ‘Wal, she only chanced ter look out the win- der, aun’ she seen the squabble, an’ then she says two o’ the men brought a third outer this very craft. She thought’one o’ our crew was ona spree, an’ never suspected anything wrong.” “Didn't I tell ve Feretop Tom was brung onter this ’ere schooner?” asked Nat, trium- phantly. ** You only guessed at it.” “It’s a mighty good guesser that gits things straight, ain’t it?’ the young detective retorted. “What a feller don’t know he must git at by instinct. Fax is fax, arnd they’re stubborn things. Assooredly! Now, Misther Sailor Man, be you sure nobody o’ your cr w had a hack at Foretop Tom? Likewise, be you sure he ain't on board now ?” The sailor answered both questions affirma- tively. ve Then he was tooken away in that boat I seen, that night, dead or alive, arnd it’s my dooty ter find out which,” e “Why don’t you start in as a detective?” asked the sailor, laughing at what he thought the absurdity of the idea, “Scranger things hev happened.” Nat coolly answered, as he arose to go, ‘Never guess how fur a cat kin jump ontil you’ve seen her try it with a rat fur a target!” With this sage advice the boy left the schooner, CHAPTER VIII. THE MEN FROM JERSYY. Wirnovr wasting any time North River Nat went to the next pier above, Around the point of this the boat in which he believed Ra Tom had been taken away, dead or alive, hac gone that dark night when he sat and watched the river. Possibly some one there had seen it, If there was a night-watchman, and he could find him, something might come of it. He had the good fortune to find this man on the pier, but he declared that be had neither seen or heard anything unusual, the night of Foretop Tom’s disappearance, \ Patrolman Snyderbam had already been around and asked him these questions, Nat soon found that nothing was to he learned there, and he went away somewhat disip- pointed, He had another point in mind, how- ever, and he lost no time in making his way to the foot of Highty-first street. Curefully avoid- ing the neigh orhood where Alf lived, he walked along Riverside Boulevard, turned into the vacant lot before mentioned, and went on dowu to the river. A small sail-boat was skimming over the water just off-shore, and two or three boys stood on the bank, wistfully watching its movements, AN apn es" Ae
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’ go out of town. all - ‘ North River Nat. Nat knew just about where the boat in which Graggs and Parsons went away had been beach- ed, and seeing a small lad seated on another boat, he went to his side. “ Why ain’t you out sailin’; my frien’?” he asked. ** Ain’t got no boat,” the small boy replied. **'You seem ter like the water.” L dow ** ]Zin you swim?” ** You bet!” ** You orter hev a boat.” The unknown lad turned his gaze upon Nat. The latter was several years bis senior, and he felt pleased at such notice, and the mention of his earnest desire, “IT wish I did have ono,” he agreed. ** Spend a good ’ealo’ yer time down hyar by the river, don’t yer?” “ Yes. ” ** Know who all these boats b’long ter, I dar’ say. 1 *Wy'ry one,” “ Any strangers—from Jarscy, f'rinstance— ever tie up their water vehicles hyar?” “Oh! yes; there was one here last night from Jersey. [| know who it belonged to, too—his name is Parsons, and he lives.in Hoboken, The boat was beached right there!” The lad pointed, and if Nat had before doubt- ed that he had knowledge of what he told, that gone would have settled all. The boat had een just where he said. “‘T know a Parsons over in Hoboken,” con- tinued Nat, blandly. ‘‘ Wonder ef it’s the same one}? Whar does this Parsons live, anyhow— what street?” ‘*{ don’t know, but his first name is Simon. If you want to know about him, Alf Perriby who lives on Kighty-first street, can tell you.” ‘** Never mind,” replied Nat, hastily, for he hal no desire to meet the redoubtable Alf again. “* You didn’t see Parsons arnd his boat hyar Tfonay night, did ye?” ‘** No,” answered the boy, after brief medita- tion. ‘He wasn’t hero in the evening, or, at least, I didn’t seo him, but he was here just be- fore dark. I saw hiza anda man named Greggs, who goes with him. They were talking with a man With long hair and wild clothes—he looked Jike a Western cowboy.” ** You did seo them, eh?” use i- NY , “« lear w’ot they said?” ** Nota word,” Wat had Jearned all te small boy knew about the matter, He asked several more questions, but they only served to bring out minor points relating to what had already been told. Nat, however, had gained information of importance. Doctor Chippewa bad been in carnest con- versation with Greggs and Parsons a short time before the supposed assault on Foretop Tom took place; and after they were through, the men from Jersey had re-entered their boat and rowed away down the river, “Vl bet my hat Foretop Tom was decoyed ter tho pier by some plausible lic, ana then Gregory arnd Sime Parsons was thar ter fall on him like devourin’ wolves,” thought the young detective, as he walked away. ‘So Parsons lives in Hoboken, eh? Wal, I reckon my busi- ness will take me ter Jarsey right away, quick. { want ter locate that pestiterous chap, Ef Foretop Tom is alivo he may even now be shut up in Simon’s Bastile, Assoorecly!” With Nat to resolve was to act promptly when possible, and he entered a train on the Blevated Road and rode down to Christopher street. From there ho took the ferry to Ho. boken. When the beat touched the drop he assed out of the ferry-houss, and there paused ‘or a moment. Which way was he to go? The majority of his late fellow-passengers were hurrying toward the low, unpretentious railroad depot at the left, but he did not want to He finally decided to walk on awhile and see what the vicinity looked like. He had never been in Hoboken but once before, nd his knowledge of the place was limited, He strolled away until he reached Washineton street, when he turned to the right, but at Fourth went through to Bloomfield. This was more to bis liking, and he sauntered on with his handsin bis pockets, surveying the passers-by as he did so. Thusfar he bad made no effort to find out where Parsons lived, and he was in no haste to do so, He was studying Hoboken, with an eye to business, Suddenly he saw something which arrested all bis attention, This had been casually drawn et. first by a mastiff which was stalking majes- i tically along;led by a man, but as Nat looked at the man he forgot the dog, ‘‘ Great ginger!” he muttered, ‘“‘ef thart fel- ler’s back ain’t like Sime Parsons’s I’m gittin’ blind. Don’t seem posserble that I kin be in sech luck, but it does look amuazin'ly like Simon, hisself!”” Just then the man partially turned bis head. “Its him, by ginger!” Nat affirmed. The young detective at once became all atten- tion, Luck had favored him singularly, and far more than he would have dared hope. Chance had brouzit him within sight of one of the suspected criminals, and be determined to keep bim in view, Apparently Parsons was unconscious of the boy’s proximity, though it was nut likely that he would recognize bim, anyhow, and the mastiff would prevent him from doing any fine work to avoid being followed. It seemed a very simple matter to run him down, Nat began the work, but it did not prove a brief one, Parsons was evidently out to give his dignified canine companion an airing, and this he proceeded to do, traveling in a roundabout way and turning many corners, He did not throw the pursuer off the track, Where he went, Nat followed, taking great care not to be discovered. He kept well back, and was ready to assume a careless air and position whenever the man should turn. Half an hour was passed in this way, and then Parsons paused in front of a low, old- fashioned wooden house which stood in a small yard. He opened the gate and passed in- side, ‘Hived, at last, by ginger!” Nat. Parsons passed along ono side of the house, and as the boy sauntered past be saw what seemed to be a dog-kennel at the rear of the yard. He did not venture to stop, but went on at an easy pace, thinking as he went. What was he to do next? It was one thing to learn where Parsons lived, and another to dis- cover whether thero was any sign of Foretop Tom about the p'ace, ‘*l’ve got ter git a look inside that palatial shanty, but how shall I do it?’ he muttered. ** Thart is the question which agitates my yooth- ful mind, by ginger!” It was not often that Nat was at loss for an idea when one was wanting, and the fact that he bad seen a girl in a white apron—evidently a servant—standing on the steps by the rear door gave him an idea very soon. * But will it work?” he thought, ‘Thar are ins arnd outs to it, arnd nobody kin say what kind o’ a pestiferous scrapé I may run my head inter, May run right ag’in’ Sime Parsons, hisself, first slap. Wal, what ef I do? He never has had a good look at me, arnd IL don’t b’lieve he’d hev any idee I was the same chap that jumped out o’ Alf’s winder. It’s a go!” He went to a confectionery store and pur- chased a pound of candy, which was put up in a paper box, Then he proceeded to a hardware store and had two sheets of thick wrapping- pa PF ar put around it and securely tied. le then had a good-sized package, the nature of which no one could surmise by its appear- ance, Next he removed his necktie and collar, and partially battered in the crown of his derby hat, All this was to change his appearance, and when he had put a few more touches to his toilet he really looked like a different person. His preparations completed, he marched boldly back to the house he wished to enter, walked through the yard and rapped at the rear door, The same white-aproned servant-girl ap- peared, * May I arsk yer name, miss?” said Nat, hold- ing the package prominently forward. “My name! Why, of course, It is Lena Tryon.” “Assoredly. Sech was my idee. Is thar a gent hyar who is waitin’ fur this package?” ** Not that I know of.” ** You'd know it ef he was. age is fur you.” “ Why, I thought you said it was for a gent.” ‘Not ‘zactly, miss, It’s rayther a comple- cateda’fair, Ye see a gent met me on the street arnd axed me would | carry this package ter Miss Lena Tryon, at this house. O course I sez I would. ‘ Wal, do it,’ sez he, givin’ me a quar- ter, ‘arnd I'll meet ye thar,’ Mebbe Tl git that fu’st; anyhow, I wowt be long behind ye. Now mind,’ sez he, awful solemn-like, ‘this package ain’t ter go out o’ your hands ontil you give it ter me. It’s fur Miss Tryon, but I am the gent ter pass it over ter her, arnd nobody commented This hyar pack- i Nee ee ee else. Ketch on?” sez he, I told him I did ketch on, arnd hyar I be,” The trim young servant seemed to think she knew from whom the present came. She blushed a little, her eyes brightened, and she replied: ‘* No gentleman has come yet.” “Then Tl hev ter set down arnd wait fur him.’ Nat made a motion to sit on the step, but she stopped him. “Not there,” kitchen ” ‘* Be you alone?” ‘* Yes, in this part of the house, The folks are up-stairs; they won’t come here. Walk right in!” She spoke cordially, and Nat obeyed prompt- ly. He little suspected how warmly he was destined to be entertained in that house. CHAPTER IX. NOT THE GENTLEMAN NAT WISHED TO SEE. THE young detective was inside the house, and repared to carry out the plan he had formed. ‘he rather-pretty servant looked covetously at the package, but he hung to it grimly and sat down. ‘* Shouldn’t be a talls’prised ef thar was a few pounds o’ diamonds in hyar,” he observed. ‘** Mebbe it is the royal Croker-noah jewel.” “Is it heavy?’ asked Lena, plainly a good deal interested. ‘Not so very. Diamonds ain’t heavy, onless “ cf rr oo? ott . , ra ” you git a bigger c’lection than most folks hev. ‘Nobody would send me diamonds.” *'They’d look wal on ye, by ginger!”’declared Nat, diplomatically. ‘* You’ve got a boss com- plexion, arnd it would set ’em off fine.” “T see you know how to: flatter, if you are young.” ‘*Pve got eyes in my head, arnd I know a pretty girl when I see her. Assooredly! I say, tis floor is so white arnd clean I’m ’most afeerd ter tech my shoes to it. Do you like ter work?” ‘*No, but I have to,” Lena frankly replied. “* Many in the fam’ly ?” ** Only three.” ‘* Don’t see any children’s playthings ’round.” ‘‘ There ain’t any children.” ‘¢ Lemme see—what’s the name o’ yer boss?” “Carl Veazey.” ‘¢T s’pose the fam’ly cornsists 0’ him arnd his wife arnd—who else 1s thar?” ‘* Their son, Percy.”’ North River Nat was disappointed, He had expected to hear that the owner of the house was named Parsons. It occurred to him, how- ever, that Parsons might be aman of many names—or Greggs’s real name. might be Veazey. ** Any comp’ny at present?” be continued, ‘SNo;?? “ Didn’t I see a sailor chap hyar t’other day?” “T haven't seen any.” Lena’s manner was not only unsuspicious, but the personification of honesty. ‘What sort o’ a lookin’ chap is Carl Veazey?’ pursued Nat, patiently. ‘“*Heisan old man now, with hair white as snow. He don’t go out of the house.” ‘* Arnd Perey. , Wo’t 0’ him?” ‘*Oh! he is young—not over twenty-one.” Neither of these men could be Parsons, aud Nat began to be discouraged and disgusted. __ ‘¢ Did I, or Cidn’t I, see a mastiff out hyar in the yard?” he continued, in a less good-natured way. **Oh! yes; that is Mr. Percy’s dog.” ‘“Who was leadin’ the critter an hour or so ago?” “T don’t know his name; it was some friend of Mr, Perey.” ‘*Do ye know whar he lives?” she said; “come into the ‘*No, [never saw him tut once or twice be- fore.” , “ Arnd you ain’t seen no sailor chap around hyar?” “6 No. ” It was the last question Nat had to ask. He had come to the conclusion that he was on the wrong scent, as far as that particular house was concerned, and the sooner he beat a graceful re- treat from it, the better it would be. What he wanted now was to get outside, watch for Par- sons to reappear, and resume the work of dog- ging him to his lair. He had decided to leave the bogus whan and let Lena get her reward for answering his questions by eating the candy, when the door which led to the other part of the house sudden- | ly opened and two men appeared. The foremost was Simon Parsons! | The big rough’s forehead was knit into a most_ ferocious scowl, and his gaze became at once
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; o “is ¢ a . 4 ae i. re f . mo 8 ie: Be A c ot 3 a. hee, anor ae gah ass _ 4 ol > ry ! Ta 7 if Pt i a » , x I i v ae pes Fy : t fixed upon Nat. The latter knew at once that 2 part of their conversation had been overheard, and recognized the fact that a storm was brew- ing, but he was not the person to be easily fright- ened, He faced Parsons boldly. ; So,” said the rough, in a harsh voice, “ you want ter know all erbout me, do ye?” “Who in the world be you, anyhow?” Nat coolly returned. ‘Oh! you don’t know me, eh?” ‘‘ Strikes me you’re the individooal I seen with the dorg, but I can’t call ye by name. Ef youre a digintary I’m sorry, by ginger, fur I want ter be on intermate terms with ail great public men, Assooredly!” ‘*T b’lieve you’re a sneakin’ spy.” ac A what?’ ** Why be you pumpin’ this girl?” ‘Great ginger! ain’t I aright ter talk ter who I please? I uster hev, arnd [ ain’t heerd o’ no act by Congress ter muzzle my tongue. Ontil sech an act is parsed reckon said tongue will keep right on a-wobblin’,” “That's all very wal, but you won’t gain any- thing by it. Who be you, anyhow?” " My name is J. Quincy A, Twiggs.” ‘Don’t lie ter me, boy!” Parsons raised his voice, and tried by the vol- ume thereof, and his ferocious scowl, to frighten the young detective. Nat, however, remained as cool as ever. ‘‘ Hez the court set you up as my guardeen, mister? Ef so, I warnt ter know it. I were not arnticipatin’ sech an honor, by ginger! Ef secb is the case, prove it. Trot out yer docky- ment’ry evidence! Perdooce the vital statistics! Exhibit the orptical conviction! Do this ef yowre my guardeen, arnd ef you ain’t, remain forever silent. Assooredly!” Nat stretched out one hand with a gesture ap- propriate to this address, and looked as serious as an undertaker, but Parsons did not grow good-humored. ‘* Be you goin’ ter explain?” he demanded. ‘““Nary explain.” * You don’t leave hyar ontil ye do.” And the rough took his place by the outer door. Nat turned to the man he rightly con- jectured was Percy Veazey. ‘* Does yender individooal own this house?” he asked. ‘* No,” was the reply. “To you?” “Yes,” ‘- Then I reckon I don’t take no orders from | him |” . ; . : “‘T uphold him in all he says,” Percy de- clared. ‘Then I reckon I don’t take no orders from you !” retorted Nat. ‘‘ Fack is, I came hyar on a peaceable errand, arnd | ain’t goin’ ter be trod on by nobody. Assooredly not! Hoboken is a part of the President’s domain, arnd he arnd me are on good terms. Ef Iam merlested, I shall appeal ter him, Say, mister, be you goim’ ter git out 0’ my way?” Nat walked toward Parsons, his manner as cool as ever, but with a determined air under all. _ “No, LT ain't,” Parsons returned; “you're g0- in’ ter stay hyar. Kin you make room fur him in the suller?” _ The last question was addressed to Percy, but the latter slowly shook his head, ‘*7 don’t like this, Sime,” he observed. “ The kid is a spy; be we goin’ ter let him go Jopin’ erround, an’ lyin’ about us?” “Well, if you say tue word, down into the cellar he goes.” “No, he don’t!” Nat retorted. ‘ I'm no vege- tarian, arnd Ill be booted ef I want ter go arnd reside with yer pestiferous old pertaters, cab- bages arnd carrots. Let me out 0’ thart door, or thar’ll be an ’arthquake byar right off, quick, Fax is fax, arnd they're stubborn things,” “Veazey, ketch the young snake,” directed Parsons. ‘*T'll keep the door; you catch him.” The change was made, aud Parsons advanced with an evil glitter in his eyes. The girl, Lena, had been in a panic ever since this scene began, her sympathies plainly being with Nat, and she now stepped in front of the big rough. “You sha’n’t touch him!” she declared, “This is an outrage; let the boy alone!” Parsous caught her and, without a word, set her aside; in his opinion it was no time to fool with women. Nat saw that he was thoroughly in earnest in his threat to seize him, and that only prompt action could save him from cap- tivity in the cellar. He resolved to act thus promptly, but how was he to doit? His strength would amount to a —————————————————————— ae we) Wea oaks LL ae : Saaeat aed mene a - Sietiete ts a — , pattie wt EN Se te RT eS Tre North River Nat. nothing opposed to that of Parsons—what was he to do? He had no time for an elaborate plan, but he formed a line of action, such as it was, at once, Parsons came on. He seemed to be afraid that Nat would dodge and run, but as the boy retreated, instead, he grew more confident, **Come, you needn’t hang off!” he said. ‘‘ Pve got ye ez sure ez preachin’!” And he stretched out his hands to grasp the boy. Fast then Nat moved. His one chance was before him, and he determined to make the most of it. Like most boys he knew his strong point—it lay in his agility, and ability to ** dodge and run” in a way no man could equal, least of all, such a ponderous fellow as Parsons. Nat made the venture. Suddenly gathering on his feet he made a feint as though to dodge to the left. Parsons promptly sprung that way. Another moment and Nat shot past him on the other side, laugh- ing derisively as be did so, He had gained one point on the villain, anyway. The way of retreat he had marked out lay through the door by which the two men had come to the kitchen—the only way open to him, in fact. He believed that it led to the front part of the house, and that by following this course he could gain the front door and pass to the street. He jerked the door open, and then came to a halt. Instead of a hall he saw only a stairway; it led to the upper part of the house. This was not at all favorable—what was he to do? Parsons’s steps crashed behind him, and Nat hesitated only a moment. He darted up the stairs, two steps at a time. What lay before him he did not know, but it would not do to let his pursuer get hold of him. Reaching the next floor he found himself in a hall-like room which was lighted only by a_ win- dow set in the roof. Plainly, he could not reach this, Four doors opened from the hall; he must go through one of these at a venture, Parsons was clattering up the stairs, muttering threats at every step. All that was ugly in the man’s nature was aroused, and he was liable to do any dark deed if he caught the boy, Nat quickly opened one of the doors. It led to an unoccupied room which faced the street, and an abundance of light streamed in through the glass of a bay-window. He ran to that point and raised a lower sash. Clearly, his only way was to repeat his feat at Ali's house and leap out. He swung his body through and poised for the jump, but at that moment Parsons rushed for- ward with bands outstretched to seize him! CHAPTER X, NAT CREATES A STORM, For a moment the result was in doubt. Nat had to get his balance before leaping, or he would fall in a heap and probably break his bones. Parsons thrust his arms out of the win- dow; his hands moved toward Nat; bis fingers were bent preparatory to closing upon the boy’s arm, They did close—upon empty air, Just when his triumph seemed certain, Nat jumped. It was a leap the young detective was not at all willing to make; butit was in his favor that the ground below was soft and spongy. @ struck squarely on his feet and retained that position, though the shock was no trifling affair. On the whole, though, he had been more fortunate than he dared to hope, and he prompt- ly ran through tho gate to the street, Then he looked back. Parsons was at the window, glaring at him fiercely. # My b’loved corntemporary,” quoth the young detective, coolly, “ef ye want ter go ter Police Headquarters arnd hev this thing’settled, come right erlong!” y } Parsons closed the window with a bang and disappeared, but Nat did not wait to see if he would continue the pursuit. The boy heat a re- treat to the next corner, and there took refuge in a convenient covert. He wished to see Par- sons come out, and then to follow him once more. *‘Thar’s nothin’ in that house thart I want,” he soliloquized, ‘* but ef I kin track the pestifer- ous critter ter his own den, I may find Foretop Tom, [iltry it!” . He waited. first with patience and then with growing doubt. Parsons did not appear, and half an hour rolled by. Then a woman came out of ths house and moved his way. He recog- nized Lena, and believed he should get some news from her, at least, She turned the corner, and then paused in sur- prise at sight of him. A look of pleasure ap- peared on her face, ‘““T am so glad tosee you safe!” she exclaimed. ** Assooredly,” Nat replied. ‘‘T thank ye right hearty fur yer good will, arnd I know you was in my favor when them critters was tryin’ ter scoop me in, Say, whar is that measly Sime Parsons, now?” ‘* He’s gone,” ** He is?” “cc Yes.” ‘* [didn’t see him come out.” ‘*He went through the back yard, over to the next street,” Lena explained. “That settles it; he’s got away slick ez mice, Fax is fax, arnd they're stubborn things.” “What in the world does this all mean?” “Jest what I’d like ter know,” replied Nat, with the most innocent air imaginable, ‘‘ When I d@liver any more merchandise fur a stranger Ill be older than 1 be now, I hey an idee that it was all part o’a plot ter kidnap an unslowphis- tercated youth—which is me,” ‘There was nothing but candy in the pack- age you brought me.” “That settles it, sure. Him who give it ter ‘me was in kerhoots with Simon ter abductionize me. Set that down furafack, I reckon it was my perlitical enemies that put up the job on me, cause I went ag’in’ "em in the larst city elec- tion, Great ginger! hez Jarsey so backslid ez this? Hezthe time come that her honist citi- zens are ter be massacreed arnd gobbled lke mad-dogs?” ; ate are a queer boy,” said Lena, wonder- ingly. ‘** Pll be queerer ef I don’t ‘light out fur home, which is on Willow street, Lena, you're a fine rirl, arnd you’ve been my fr’en’; I won’t forgit it. Fur now, farewell!” “Wait alittle. Dd like to know—” “Can't stop now; I’ve got ter git home, or my friends will worry ’bout me. Good-by, Lena!” And North River Nat hastened away. He knew that it was useless to delay longer, and he was anxious to get back to New York. Night was at hand, and he bad not been at the Beck- with house since morning. What would they think of his prolonged absence? and what had happened there during the day? His experience with Hoboken had been some- what rough, and he was glad enough to see the old ferry-house again. He entered, paid his three cents with good will, and went on board the Christopher street boat, which was about to start for New York. Tho metropolis had never looked more pleas: ant to him than it did then, as he stood at the forward end of the ferry-boat and looked ahead, He had been so warmly entertained in Hoboken, that he was glad to get back to the city of his nativity. Taking the Elevated Road, he was soon at Beckwith’s, Katie McKeevin had begun to think that the new addition to the family was a mere scape- roat, for he certainly was not fulfilling Daniel 3eckwith’s directions—to be near when wanted —and she would have given him a serious Jec- oes Baek she not had a message to give him in- stead, Mr. Beckwith wanted to see him at once, Nat received this notification quietly, and at once went to the self-styled invalid’s room, He was there in his big chair, as usual, with the colored man in attendance. ‘ . “My boy,” said Beckwith, in a very melan- choly tone, ‘I sent for you a long time ago.” ‘*T was out, takin’ an airin’,” “T hope you do not recklessly expose yourself. Your health should be your first consideration.” “ " ” Assooredly. ‘Dr, Holdsworth,” pursued the invalid, *‘ has given me a theory in regard to my missing brother. He thinks that poor Thomas was kid- napped and taken away on a vessel which could et no sailors by honest means.” “Humph!” dryly commented Nat. “Now as to the men in the row-boat, think they were sailors?” ** No, T don’t.” Why not?” } ‘’Canse they looked like landsmen.” “Then you saw them somewhat plainly?” “ Wal, not so plain, but a sailor arnd a lands man ina boat are cads 0’ a diff’rent color. Assooredly !” ‘ “Vet the kidnappers might have been South street lane barks, ma ,t0 speak, working for the captain of the vessel. Uiphey might ’a’ been members 0’ the Presi- dent’s Cabinet, but I don’: b’lieve they was.” “ Byidently you don’t beheve in Holdsworth’s theory.’ Do you
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10 **T don’t.” ‘* But Thomas has gone somewhere.” ‘“«'Thart is a safe asseveration,” Nat agreed. At this point Beckwith turned his head to- ward the negro. ** Franklin!” ‘*'Yes, sah!” “T think the cap of the key-hole is mis- placed.” ‘* The which, sah?” “T feel a very perceptible draught—the wind strikes upon my shoulder harshly—and I think it must-blow through the key-hole of the door, Probably you will find that the cap has failed to fall into place. See to it at once!” Nat winked solemnly at B, Franklin Betts, and that colored gentleman, who lacked Nat’s powers of self-control, was obliged to hug his mouth with both hands to keep from laugh- ing aloud. He found the cap in place, but to humor his master, reported that it had been to one side, ““T thought so,” Beckwith answered. ‘‘It is much more comfortable now, but I fear I have already taken cold,” “Why,” exclaimed Nat, ‘‘ the mercury stan’s at eighty above zero, out 0’ doors!” **No doubt, but I am very susceptible to any draught.” , “Tell ye what’d do ye good, mister,” Nat abruptly said. “What?” “Go over ter the Polo Grounds arnd play nine innings 0’ base-ball, You could hold down third base, whar you'd git some daisies, singiw’ right from the bat, or ef the pifcher was a fair speci- men o’a human cannon, you’d enjoy life ez a ketcher; while ez fur runnin’ the bases, I’d ad- vise ye ter make a home-run lick ev’ry time ye was ‘up,’ arnd then canter tho circuit o’ the diamond like a two-year-old colt. Ef you could rap the sphere over center-field fence, the grard- stand arnd free-seats would jest split their throats in yer honor.” Nat gave this information with a sort of sol- emn enthusiasm, but Beckwith looked at him in horror. ** Boy!” he exclaimed. “ Yes?” “Do you know I am a hopeless invalid?” “Ts the Injun doctor’s yarbs workin’ on ye so bad as that, mister?” ‘“* They are all that keep me alive.” **Mebbe; but ef I’s goin’ ter swaller the stuff, I'd want my life insured in advance, by ginger!” ** You, too, are prejudiced; but let it pass. did not engage you to give me advice.” ‘The best doctor-stuff I know on is pure air, arnd thart is what you should take, The art- mosphere o’ this room would give a statoo the wu’st kind 0’ a maludy. As long as you breathe p’ison at this rate you'll be a subjict fur a doc- tor, arnd quacks like Chippy will reap a harvest outer ye. Assooredly!” Beckwith’s face had flushed. For years his most powerful emotion had been melancholy vexation, but he was genuinely angry at last. On the table beside him lay a book called, ‘‘ The Diagnosis and Cure of all Diseases,” which he had read with interest because he thought he found proof therein that he was afflicted with each and every one of the complaints it men- tioned He now seized this book, and flung it at Nat’s head with such good aim, that the boy only escaped by ducking his head quickly, * Franklin!” cried the hypochondriac, “Yes, sah.” ‘ *‘ Open that door!” ‘* Yes, sah.” ** Quick, you snail!” “Yes, sab.” But Mr. Betts, accustomed to moving like a dignified cat in his master’s room, was not quick enough to please the angry invalid. The latter sprung up himself, strode to the door and opened it. “Go!” he said, addressing Nat, and pointing to the hall. ‘‘ Go, and never dare set foot in my house again. You are discharged, and I will never receive any communication from you again. I give you ten minutes to leave the house.” ** Assooredly,” replied Nat, as coolly as though nothing unusual was occurring. ‘* Remember me ter Foretop Tom when he comes back, arnd say ter him that I think I can tell who stole him, Ef Isee him afore you do, never mind the message, Good-day!” And then Nat walked out of the room with all the composure in the world. ———— CHAPTER XI: IN WHICH MISFORTUNES MULTIPLY. , Mr. BECKWITH banged the door to, and then North River Nat. returned to his chair. B. Franklin Betts was watching him with his eyes and mouth open to their full extent. Never before had he seen his master so angry; never before had he seen him move so agilely; and never before had he seen him so reckless of exposure to fresh air. “ Franklin!” exclaimed the invalid. “Yes, sah.” ‘Give mea dose of the medicine in the blue bottle,” ‘But, sah, it ain’t time fur it fur half an hour—” ‘* Bring me the medicine!” empatically order- ed Mr. Beckwith. ‘‘Ilam master here, and I will show all the croakers that it is not injurious. I will take it when I see fit. Do you hear?” ** "Yes, sah.” Mr, Betts passed it over in fear and trembling, for he was utterly upset by the new order of | things. What would occur next he did not know-—perhaps it would be an earthquake which would shake the house down upon his head. ‘* Have I sunk so low,” demanded Beckwith, | when he had swallowed the alleged medicine, “that a boy talks like that to me in my own house? Have I, in my illness, lost all hold on my own affairs? If he dared be so impudent, what do the rest say of me? What do the ser- vants say? What does Eudora say? ‘ell me that, Franklin!” “Really, sa-sa-sah, I don’t kn-kn-know what—” ‘“* Silence! Your stammering tongue betrays you. Don’t lie to me, you scoundrel!” Beckwith, as poor Betts afterward expressed it, ‘‘ was on the war-path in dead earnest,” and his anger was all the more riotous because he had so long covered it over with the mantle of melancholy. The unjust suspicion nad suddenly occurred to him that Eudora was not the duti- ful daughter she had seemed, and the awful glare of his eyes made his servant's knees knock together. eee me!” thundered the self-styled in- valid. ““Wh-wh-what shall I say, sah?’ chattered Franklin, “Tell me what infamous thing Eudora has said against me, Your manner shows your guilty knowledge. What are you keeping back? Does she wish me dead? Speak out, sir—speak out! “* Indeed, sah, I’s never heerd her say a word disrogatory to yer character an’ a’flictions—” “Enough! You, too, are against me, All are against me—servants, friends, daughter! All want me dead; I can rely on noone, My last friend went when Foretop Tom was taken from me. Poor brother! where is he now? Kid- napped—perhaps murdered. And he may never be avenged.” Tears actually appeared in the speaker’s eyes. He had loved Foretop Tom second only to Eudora, and now that his sudden suspicion pointed to the latter as a traitress, he turned to the memory of lost Tom as the only thing dear to him, Then he thought of North River Nat. He had relied on the boy to help identify the mur- derers, or kidnappers, as the case might be. If Nat went, woukt not his only witness be lost? Would not all hope vanish of avenging Tom? - The thought sobered and quieted him, and he scarcely stirred for thirty seconds, Then he formed a resolution, Nat had spoken severely to him, but was that any reason why he should put away the last hope of avenging bis brother? He turned abruptly to B. Franklin Betts, * Franklin!” ‘* Yes, sah,” ““Go down and tell that boy that I retract what I said. Tell him to remain in this house, as before.” ‘ ** Yes, sah.” : Betts disappeared from the room willingly; he only wished that he had been ordered to stay away, His peaceful occupation of standing be- hind his master’s chair bad been rudely broken in upon, and he had a vague fear that that yen- tleman was about to become violently insane. ‘**T see how it is!” muttered Beckwith, when he was Once more alone, ‘‘ My eyes are at last opened. Like all old and feeble persons I have become an incumbrance, Those whom I have loved wish me out of the way—even Eudora is against me. Franklin’s stammering tongue re- vealed the truth!” The speaker had devoted the last five years of his life to hugging hobbies, and he seized upon the new one with avidity, if not with pleasure. Ina few minutes Franklin returned, looking more frightened than ever. ** Well?” questioned Beckwith, sharply. a ‘Sah, the b-b-boy says he won’t stay!” ** Won't stay?” “No, sah; he says you ordered him out ob de house, an’ he am a-goin’, sah.” ** Did he say this after you told him I wished him to stay?” ‘* Ye—ye—yes, sah.” “Why do you stammer ed Beckwith, fiercely. ‘‘ You never did so be- fore. You are ridiculing me, are you? Ve well, I'll settle with you, later. That's that boy doing?” ‘* Putting on his hat ter go, sah.” Mr. Beckwith sprung from his chair, his face flushed with anger, and, forgetting the cane without which he had not thought he could cross the room of late, tore the door open and strode | out into the hall, | ** It’s come fo’ suah!” cried Betts, raising his hands in horror. ‘t He’s gone ravin’ crazy, an’ we'll all be murdered by his frenzy. Oh! golly, why didn’t dis niggah stay down in Car’liny!” Down the stairs went Mr. Beckwith with steps. as firm and heavy as those of a trvoper, and he at once became the focus for three pairs of eyes. North River Nat, Eudora and Katie McKeevin | were in the parlor hall, and the girls had evi- dently been trying to dissuade Nat from leaving. All, however, gazed in mute wonder as they | saw the so-called feeble invalid transformed into an active man. Beckwith strode to the front door, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. Then he turned ou knave?” demand- | upon Nat. “So you’re going to leave the houss, are you?” he sternly demanded, ** Assooredly !” Nat coolly replied. **T forbid it!” *“When I am discharged, 1 usooally git out. Fax is fax, arnd they’re stubborn things,” ‘“*Did Franklin tell you I had changed my mind, and wished you to remain?” “* He did.” * And you persisted in going?” ** Jes’ so.” “T forbid it. You are my servant, legally employed by me, and I forbid your departure. You must obey me; | am master here. You shall not go!” Nat bad rarely ever been placed in a situation as peculiar as this, and for a moment he did not know what todo. He did nct bear Beckwith a particle of ill-will, and his temper was wholly unruffled, He wished to do what was right, and was reluctant to abandon the Foretop Tom case. But how was he to deal with Daniel Beckwith? At this crisis the boy’s quick wit stood him in good use. He comprehended that the old gentle- man’s sudden exhibition of strength and activity was wholly the result of his anger, and was of the opinion that if he was allowed to have his own way without anything to ruffle his spirits, he might relapse into his old state, The boy thrust bis thumbs into the arm-holes of his vest and faced Beckwith grimly, “Be you my guardeen?” he asked. ‘‘T am your master.” “Hev you any legal right ter dispose o’ my rson? Kin you restrick my liberty, keep me in bondage, or Incarcerate me in any pestiferous: prison-cell? _ Ain’t Ia free moral agent? Can’t I vote when I'm twenty-one, ef anybody will pay me fur it?) Ain’t I—” “That will do, Enough of idle talk—you will remain here, as I said.” “ Ez a pris’ner, eh?” ‘Call it so, if you wish: you will remain!” “* Assoorealy! I ain’t the chap ter kick when I can’t help myself, arnd I'll stay, but ene thing I want ter hey onderstood: I submit under pro- test. B. Franklin Betts, bear witness that I submit under protest.” Nat waved his band solemnly toward the gen- tleman of color, who was peering over the top of the balusters on the floor above. Only half of his head had been visible, and that disappeared suddenly when Nat thus “gave away” his secret reconnoitering, ‘‘Boy,” added Beckwith, less severely, ‘ should think you would be willing to do as much . as this for my poor, lost brother,” “Tq forgot Foretop Tom, but sence you order me ter remain, I'll take hold o’ the case with vigor, arnd bring it toa successful climax.’ ok a ak fagper that Nat is to be trusted,” observed Hudora, gently, : “Oh! you are, ch?” grimly retorted Beck- with. ‘ You are a pretty subject to offer con- solation, Girl, I know you at last as you are; I know how you despise me; I know how you have often said that you wished me dead. Franklin Betts has told me all!” “Oh! oh!” cried a shrill voice from the floor above, and Mr. Betts’s black face and white Se ! ~ 7 . aes = ? ee i Ge ha se. A rec a ae a, he OY te a, f
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| [oes ee ee o* < ae a - Reet eyes reappeared above the balusters; ‘I never said nothink ob de kind, Miss Eudora. I ’clare ter gracious I nebber did—” i back to your room, you scoundrel!” shouted Beckwith. ‘‘T’ll be up there directly and attend to you. Yes, Dll lay that cane soundly over your back. That's what you need |” “Oh! oh!” howled Franklin, as he beat a re- treat, ‘“Now, girl,” added Beckwith, addressing Eudora, ‘‘ you and I may as well have an under- standing. From this time I am going to be master of my own house. 1 have trusted you and the rest, only to find that I have taken ser- pents to my breast, and—” “ Father!” cried Eudora, imploring]y, ‘‘Don’t dare interrupt me. I thought it bad enough to be a hopeless invalid, but misfortunes are multiplying. I find ail my relatives and servants against me. Am I crushed? No, never! I will defeat you all!” “But, father—” “Not aword. From this hour there will be a new order of things here. Jam going to be master. To-morrow I shall send for Doctor Chippewa Holdsworth, and install him in this house as my private physician. He will be in constant attendarice on me, and I will see no one else. This is my ultimatum!” With this terrible threat the self-styled invalid turned and went up-stairs with a firm step, not even touching tke rail of the stairs as he went. The trio in the hall looked after him mutely, and Eudora and Katie, at least, were dum- founded. CHAPTER XII, A NEW WAY OF COMMITTING SUICIDE, Nor a word was spoken by the trio until Mr. Beckwith had reached his room and slammed the door to after him; then North River Nat dropped into a chair and fairly shock with laughter. ** You m’ane little wretch!” cried Katie, ‘‘ ye ough ter be ashamed ave yerself, ter laugh at such a toime—ye had that!” ** Why shouldn’t I larff, my dear Katie!” Nat coolly asked. ““Can’t you see Miss Eudora is broken- hearted?” ‘* Why should she be?” “Tvea good moind to hit'yeza clip wid a club!” averred Katie, ‘It’s killin’ her ter see the ould jintleman in such a bad way, an’ you a-snickerin’ loike ahyena,” |» ‘« My b’loved corntemporary,” quickly return- ed Nat, ‘‘you don’t diagnose this hyar case correct. e sun is risin’ in the East, fur sure. Don’t you worry about Mr. Beckwith; this is the first step toward his throwin’ off the yoke o’ error. Jest let the wheel keep on turnin’, arnd he wili acknowledge himself a wal man in less’n a fortnight,” A look of hope appeared on Eudora’s face. “*1Do you really think so?” she asked. * Assooredly, I do,” ‘* But he acts so strangely.” ‘His mad is up, arn you seo w’ot it did fur him. He didn’t act much like a feeble invalid, did he? Oh! jest you keep quiet, arnd you'll see him all right.” ‘* But he says he is doctor here to stay.” ‘¢ T heerd him.” “‘ That don’t look favorable,” ‘He's struck on Chippy, who kin be perlite enough when he tries; a marn may smile, arnd be a villain still. Don’t ye worry erbout Chipppy, though; he’ll come up at the end o’ his rope with a jerk straightway.” *T only wish we could drive him off,» “We kin.” “How?” “Thar are various ways. Do you know any. thing erbout the workin’ arnd twistin’s © the law?” , “i No.” “‘T do, Assooredly' Arnd one 0’ the items o’ the law which governs our b’loved city is, that nobody kin practice medicine byar ‘thout a diplomer. Has Chippy got a diplomer? Guess not; the’pestiferous critter never Seen a medi- cal school, I’ll bet my left shoe!” “Even if he had no diploma,” Answered Eurora, hesitatingly, ‘what can we do to stop him from practicing medicine?” ‘Use the law ez a club, arnd hit him over the head with it, by ginger! Ef we hev him pulled in he will be fined fifty dollars fur each arnd ev'ry effense. Tharfore, ef we kin find ten 0’ his patients, ali told, thar will be five hundred dollars in fines fur him ter pay.” going to bring the Indian | and B, Franklin Betts reappeared, face seemed to have grown several shades light- | North River Nat. ce “Do it, do it!” cried Katie. ‘ It?’ll bankrupt the ould hb’athen, I know!” “Not so fast,” Nat replied. ‘‘ Ef he’s sharp we can’t bankrupt him, fur the law sez thart even ef a marn practices ’thout a diplomer he kin collect his fees. Hence, even ef he was fined fifty dollars fur doctorin’ Mr. Beckwith, he | could charge a heap over that fur his pestiferous medical attendance. But I reckon the fine would cut his career short—right off by ther ears, so ter say.” ‘* How in the world did you learn so much of law?” inquired Eudora. ‘Picked it up on the fly, As fur Chippy, however, [ don’t think we'll apply the law ter him; Pve got another scheme in my mind which I reckon will lay bhim’way out. He's a first- class scamp, arnd [ mean ter prove it. That is what will lay him out, Meanwhile, don’t you worry erbout Mr, Beckwith; things are workin’ | jest erbout ez they should, arnd be’ll admit his- self a wal marn afore many days. You see!” At this moment footsteps sounded on the stairs His black er, and his big, white eyes were certainly several sizes larger than usual, He looked like a badly- scared man, and Eudora’s heart began to palpi- tate with the conviction that he brought very bad news. ‘What is it?” she gasped. “Oh! oh!” groaned Betts, sinking into a chair. ‘‘ What is it, I say”’ she repeated. Franklin pointed one trembling hand up- ward, ‘*¢ Tt?s him!” he lamented. ‘“ My father? What of him? Is he ill?” ‘¢ No, no; he’s well—he’s awful well, an’ dat’s wot is de matter. Oh! I wish dis niggah had nebber left old Car’liny!” ‘“‘B, Franklin Africanus,” said North River Nat, severely, ‘‘ef yer wits ain’t all gone dead back on ye, make it manifest. Speak out like a marn, arnd don’t set thar a-whimperia’ like a sick cat with the cholera.” “Let me know what has happened?” added Eudora. ‘* He’s gone ter bed!” lamented Franklin, ‘* Rather early, but what on’t?” ‘t He sez he’s a-goin’ ter commit suicide!” Eudora and Katie cried out in their alarm, but Nat was of a more methodical turn of mind, ‘* Has he any p’ison thar?” ‘No, but he’s had me open both winders.” ‘* What o’ that ?” ‘*He sez he'll take cold an’ hev the pneu- monia,” explained Betts, his teeth chattering. ‘*Not much he won’t, when the mercury is jest sizzlin’ in the thermometer. But give us pints, Bettsy—give us full arnd authentic infer- mation.” ; ‘Wal, sah, he came back to de room wid an awful scowl on his face, an’ he picks up his cane an’ he sez, sez he: ‘Betts, you scoundrel, I’s a good mind ter break dis ober yer back!’ ‘Doan ye do it, sah,’ sez I, all in a tremor ob mental agitation; ‘I’s c’ar suah my back would break afore de cane would, sah,’ ‘ You need yer stupid head broke,’ sez he. ‘’Deed, sah,’ sez I, ‘I need dat ter keep in my brains, sah,’ ‘ Brains! sez he, ina voice which made my knees rap ag?in’ one auudder awful; ‘you ain’t got no brains, you murd’rous pirate!” **He’s got ye down fine, Bettsy,” putin Nat, gravely. “T thought he woul put medown on de floor, an’ smash in my ribs, but hedidn’t. ‘Open dem winders!’ sez he, a-p’intin’. ‘ But, sah, de wind—’ ‘Open dem winders!’ he sez, in a toneob manner which neah bereft me ob reason; an’ I scudded to dem air winders straight way an’ slid em boff up. ; “** Now,’ sez he, ‘1’s goin’ fur ter commit. sui- cide.’ ‘Sah, sez I, ‘ef sech am de case, won't rou let me bab an’ evenin’ off? ‘Silence,’ sez tk ‘T’s goin’ ter go ter bed an’ lay all night wid dem winders open. _ I sball contract pneumonia, an’ deff will soon foller. Den we'll see ef m vampire companions will be Satisfied, I will die, an’ den send my ghos’ back fer ter haunt dem.’ ‘‘He did say all dat, fur suah, Miss Endora, an’ now he’s gone ter bed, an’ de winders is both open, an’ I know dis house will hab crape on de doah afore dis day week, Oh! I wish dis nig- gah had nebber left Car’liny!” B. Franklin Betts told this tragic story with much snuffling, 2nd much rocking of his body back and forth, and his big, white eyes looked like those of a frightened animal, as far as ex- pression weut. North River Nat held out his hand to Eudora, whose heart seemed on the point of breaking. ‘‘T congratulate ye,” he said. ‘““You miserable little scamp!” began Katie | enema indignantly, but Nat interrupted | her, ** Hol’ on, my b’loved corntemporary, bol’ on! | Don’t go fur ter let yer angry passions rise. Let. ‘us look at this matter in its troo light. Which is the best, pison air or fresh air? Fresh, as- | sooredly. is pneumonia common when the ther- mometer is in the eightys? Assooredly not! | Now, even ef both winders be open, Mr, Beck- with’s bed stands whar no air kin strike him in shape o’ a draught. The result will be be will ter-night hey pure oxygen arnd hogsogen, arnd he will sleep like a top, arnd come out in the | mornin’ feelin’ like a new marn, Fax is fax, | arnd they’re stubborn things.” Silence followed this logical presentment of the case. Nat’s arguments sounded sensible to | Eudora, but it seemed too good to be true, ‘¢ Our sick marn ison the high road ter health,” he added. ‘¢ But he may do some really desperate thing.” “¢T think not.” “ He ought to be watched.” | My advice is, jest let him alone. He’s gone | ter bed like a sulky child—ef yowll pardon my | brashne-s in sayin’ it, miss~arnd ef he ain't petted, he'll keep it up arnd come out all right.’” “Do you really think so?” ** Assooredly.” “ But that horrible Indian doctor!” “What 0 him?” “PWather persists in retaining him.” ; ‘Leave Chippy ter me. I’m jest, hankerin’” fur a skirmish with the pestiferous critter, arnd you will see me beat him ’way out. This ’ere job is jest erbout rich ernough fur my blood, arnd I kin best any white Injun in New York.” “Do you think be ought to be arrested for practicing medicine without a diploma?” ‘* Not yit.” ‘¢ But we may delay too long.” “Treckon not. e ain’t goin’ ter injure yer parient intentionally, arnd tharby kill the goose —that word fits wal, by ginger—that lays tho golden egg, Leave Chippy ter me, arnd you will see him beat, boss; foot arnd infancy, ter use a military phrase.” *T only hope you can do it,” ‘Patrolman Snyderham will help yez,” sug- } gested Katie, with a slight blush. “‘ Snyderham is a good feller, arnd he wants & corner grocery,” said Nat, winking gravely at the girl. ‘ Likewise, 1 persoom he would eee house over the shop, arnd want a cornge companion.” Katie beat a hasty retreat. — ‘*Now, Miss Eudora,” continued the young detective, ‘‘ Pd thank ye ter show me Foretop Tom’s room,” “For what reason?” * Clews!” ‘*T don’t understand,” “Thar may be thart there ter show why he went away.” ( “T hardly think you will find anything, though I do not yet clearly understand, but you shall see the room at once. Follow me!” CHAPTER XIilf. A RED-MAN ON THE RAMPAGE, Norra River Nat had a well-defined purpose in wishing to see Foretop Tom’s room, though he hardly expected to see his hopes realized. He believed thatthe old sailor would not have been on the pier where he met his enemies had he not been decoyed there, It was more than caance that Doctor Chippewa’s tools had been at just the right place to assassinate or kidnap him. Clearly, he had been decoyed there. Nat was now basing his hopes on the chance that a letter had heen sent to Foretop Tom, and that this letter was still in the sailor’s room, If it proved to be go it would cert ainly be unusu- ally good luck, but many a crime had been brought to light by just such means, The room was soon reached, and Eudora light- ed the gas, “Yon can look around as much as, you please,” she said, in her usual kind way, Foretop Tom had not been a man who had much baggage. In fact beyond a few notions collected during his last cruise, there. was noth- ing visible in the room which seemed to belony to him, though there was plenty of bric-a-brac which Eudora had arranged there with woman- / ly taste. ¢ Nat glanced at the table and bureau, no signs. | of a letter in either place, a a i =
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} 4 ; iq 12 “Ts that a closet?”he asked, indicating a second door. “Yes, Look inside, if you wish.” Nat did so, but the closet was nearly vacant. One suit of clothing evidently worn cn board his ship, and another of ordinary kind, hung upon the hooks. Tho young detective went through the pockets. He found more or less to- bacco everywhere, but not a scrap of paper. He begar: to be in doubt, but was not ready to give up. He searched every drawer of the bureau. Nosign of a letter did he find there. For a moment he stood in doubt, and then his roving eye became fixed on the mantel. Walking to that point he began peering be- hind tho bric-a-brac. As hoe did so he caught sight of a white paper, and drew it out. He un- folded it, and after a moment’s survey a look of triumph appeared on his face, He handed the paper to Eudora, ‘* How does that impress ye?” he asked. Eudora saw several lines of writing in a coarse, irregular hand, but she easily read as follows: “FRIEND Tom:—Am just in froma craise on the briz Lady Lize. Dropped anchor in New Yorkfora few days; would like to see you. Old messmates seem scarce—want to stick to thosel know, Hear you arein port. Throw your grappling-irons this way. Will be on Pier —— Monday eve, at any hour after dark. Iexpect to see you there, so don’t dis- appoint me. Heave to in that vicinity, and let us talk over old times. Your old messmate, “Sam Towner.” ‘* Wal, how does it strike ye?” Nat asked. ‘This seems to be genuine,” Eudsra an- swered, ** Ef it didn’t it wouldn’t_ be much 0’ a decoy, but Pll bet a hat it was a decoy. Obsarve that it wasfur tho very night Foretop Tom disap- peared,” ‘“Then you really think it a decoy?” “Yes,” Eudora turned it over thoughtfully in her , hands, but did not reply. ‘* Notice,” continued Nat, ‘* the pecooliar sig- nificance o’ the words, ‘any hour after dark.’ Suspicious, ain’t it? Why did the writer say | any time after dark? Simply ‘cause Tom couldn’t be got away with in broad daylight.” “There is something in that, but who do you think wrote the letter?” * Hlov you a specimen o’ Doctor Chippy’s writiny? ‘‘No. He never wrote any prescription, for the reason that he furnished all his medicines. But do you think he wrote this?” *¢T am so suspicious that I am goin’ ter git a specimen o’ his writin’ arnd compare with this.” ‘*TTow can you get it?” “Tl gita certain individooal whom I know | ter write ter Chippy arnd describe certain bogus symptoms, arnd arsk Chippy ef he kin cure ’em—ef so, ter wait lis orders ter call. The white Injun will snap at tho bait like a hungry | fish, arnd write a lotter sayin’ he kin do the cure fur sure, Thart is how Ill git a specimen o’ bis spider-tracks,” ‘A feasible plan, I do believe, When will you attend to it?’ 4 “Right off, quick. Now you take this note, arnd hang to it like a barnacle. Don’t let any live soul hev it ontil you git word from me that | it’s all right. Onless Chippy ismore cunnin’ than I think he is, that note will be the meaus 0’ fixin’ him, ‘* Do youreally believe Doctor Holdsworth was the one who spirited Uncle Thomas away?” ‘“‘T rely on you ter heep mum, but I don’t | mind sayin’ that I ain’t a doubt on’t. D’ve been lookin’ ’round a bit, arnd things is shapin’ their- selves ina way which is convincin’. I wouldn't say this ter you ef I didn’t think you aright sensible young lady.” ‘* Have you told officer Snyderham?” “‘ Hev 1? Assooredly not! Between you arnd me, that member o’ the finest has got a heart ty Som an OX, arnd a brain as small as a ’skeeter. I don’t mean no disrespect ter him, ‘cause I ree’ly hke him, but he ain’t sharp.” ** Perhaps you're right,” **T be. Now you won't let on what Dve tol’ will ver?” ’ “No.” ** Kee-rect! Jes’ keep quiet arnd trust ter me, arnd I'll work the case out, arnd show yer parient thart Chippy is a first-class scamp.” A marn may smile, arnd be a villain still.” After a little more conversation, Nat left the house and went in search of the person whom he proposed to use totrap Holdsworth by means of the decoy letter. This was Erwin Heselton. Of course the latter’s real name must not ap- pear, but be could sign an assumed one, If the North River Nat. Indian doctor answered it his own handwriting might convict him, and there was every reason to believe he would eagerly grasp at the chance te get another patient. Nat made his way to West Forty-sixth street without delay, and was soon in the presence of | Erwin Heselton. That young man had _ left Bank street at an early hour, and thus foiled the servant girl who had intended to place the stolen articles in his trunk: No one there'knew where he had gone, and it was to be hoped that | Holdsworth would not be able to get another chance at him, Nat laid his plan before Heselton, and the lat- ter at once agreed toit, The bogus letter was written, a false name signed to it, and inside of | an hour Nat had posted it. ; _ All this had been well done, and the young detective started for home in improved spirits, Heselton had agreed to help him whenever he was called upon, anc Nat had a suspicion that this might soon be. | As the boy neared Beckwith’s house the im- | | | \ | pulse came over him to make a slight deviasion, and have a look at the Indian doctor’s tent. On a former occasion he bad gained import- ant clews by going there secretly; it might be so again. He cautiously approached the vicinity. The tent was standing in the lot as before, showing its dim white form in the darkness, AI] was very quiet within and about it, but he could see that a light was burning. “*T need ter be summut car’ful,” he solilo- quized, as hecrept forward, ‘‘I dunno whether Chippy is onter me eza detective yet, or not, ! but I don’t want his big Injuns ter fall me with their tommy-hatchets arnd divorce my skulp from the rest 0’? my anatomy, Assooredly not! | All the hair-tonic in New York couldn’t recon- cile me ter the loss 0’ the crop Natur’ ginerously pervided me with.” The silence continued, He reached the rear of the tent, and knelt down in the old place. | The slit in the canvas was still there, and he | was about to take a look when the rattling of a stone caused him to turn his head. Some one was approaching the tent, but in a zigzag course which indicated that he had been | indulging in liquid stimulant too freely for his own good, Nat smiled. He believed that some drunken fellow was about to descend upon Holdsworth, and that some sport would follow, but a closer view revealed the fact that the reeling man was one of the doctor’s own red-men. The spy hugged the tent and lay very quiet, but the man did not once glance his way. Nat quickly looked inside the tent. Doctor Chip- he and two of the Indians were there, the ormer being engaged in smoking and, evident- ly, deep thought. | ‘fhe third Indian appeared at the entrance. | He came to a halt there, and stood as near erect as was possible, but exhibited a painful want of stiffness in his legs. | Holdsworth looked at him, and a frown ap- | peared on his face. | * You fool! you are drunk again!” he ex- | claimed. ; ‘* Whoop!” returned tlae noble red-man. ‘Set ’em up ag’in, Loys! we won't go home until mornin’. I’m Sun-that-Shines, an’ ’'m a big Injun from over the Rhine. Yab—whoop!” * Silence!” commanded Chippewa. ‘“* Do you want the police down upon us? Sit down!” He arose, placed a camp-chair and guided Sun-that-Shines into it. There was little about | the noble warrior that was “ shining ” Merk then, ! and he ‘submitted with good grace but poor | ja¢gment in the way of hel ing himself. “You're at your old tricks again,” continued the doctor, angrily. ‘‘ You are never to be trusted, and once you get sigit of whisky, you go and fill up like a mere swine.” | “Why sbouldn’t I git full?’ asked Sun-that- | Shines, witha gurgle and a hiccough, ‘ ?m only happy when I’m full, an’ I reckon I’ve a right ter git that way. Why not? Um a big chief with seven toes on my feet, and I wear trade-marked corsets, I’ma bad man when I’m | mad, an’a-slayin’ epidemic right from Epidemic City. P’mchain ligbtnin’ ona tear, an’ a mixture © grizzly b’ar an’ tarantula. Whoop! Hear 'me sing! Ya-whoop! Ker-whoo!” : | By this time Nat had come to the conclusion | that the supposed Indian was no more one than himself, and it enlightened him a good deal as to Chippewa’s methods, | Probably all the so-called Indians were West- 'ern roughs in disguise—counterfeit red-men to ge plausibility to his scheme—and partners of is plan for raising money. | Sun-that-Shines emitted the final part of his | discourse in yells which brought Chippewa to his feet. ** Silence, you drunken fool!” he exclaimed. “Tf you don’t hold your tongue I'll make you; all the police within a mile will be down upon us. Hush your noise!” ‘* Who says that?” “Tl dow? ‘* Wal, you ain’t my boss; I’ll do ez I please, I'm a big Injun with bells on my fingers an’ rings on my toes; I’m a big sealper with a scor- pion in my vest-pocket; ’'m a brindled jaguar with fapgs eleven inches long an’ ears bigger than a mule’s. I’m a good ’un, an’ don’t ye doubt it. I’m tough, an’ [’m a terrer, an’ Vil yell when I feel in humor, by thunder! Ya- uhoop! Ker-who-o-o !” He ended with a tremendous yell, and Holds- worth sprung torward and caught him by the neck, ** You dog!” the Indian doctor hissed, ‘* we'll see if you will stop!” He bore the unlucky Sun-that-Shines to the ground and, still holding fast to his throat, knelt upon his breast. It looked very much like a tragedy, and Walking Bear and War-Wolf sprung to their feet. ‘Don’t kill him, Jake!” exclaimed Walking Bear. ‘* Pll stop his cursed squalling or—” Holdsworth did not finish the sentence. Sun- that-Shines had been a good deal sobered by the unexpected assault, and he now proved that he was not wholly helpless. Somehow he managed to draw back one of his legs, and he. sudden! planted the foot in the doctor’s stomach wit a force which sent the latter spinning across the tent. ; He fell at the entrance, and partly outside, and as he scrambled to his feet he saw Sun-that- Shines rushing at him with a drawn knife. He had no weapon at hand, and, quickly coming to the conclusion that it was a case where discretion was wiser than valor, he dodged around the tent with tbe maddened Sun-that- Shines in close pursuit. A moment often brings great changes. A lit- tle before it bad looked as though North River Nat had no interest in this quarrel, but as Holds- worth rushed his way the scene underwent a great transformation. The boy sprung quickly to his feet. As he did so Holdsworth rushed past him, and Nat was thus left between the two men. Worse then this, it seemed too late to run; Sun-that- Shines was but a few paces away, his knife raised for a fatal blow. He was too drunk to know what he was doing, and the young detective’s life was in the utmost peril. CHAPTER XIV. “THE RULER OF THE ROOST.” NEVER before had North River Nat had oc- casion to ue bis wits more quickly. His position had placed him in the very danger Doctor Chip- pewa was thus escaping, and as Sun-that-Shines then seemed strong enough on hi. legs, it would never do to turn his back to the man, What was to be done? Nat had an idea, and he executed it with won- derful celerity. The knife was almest over him; he had no time to lose. He dropped flat to the ground, Another moment and Sun that-Shines tripped over him, and sprawled widely on the ground. He was hardly down before Nat was up. With a quick spring the boy regained his feet, Walk- ing Bear and War-Wolf were rounding the side of the tent, but he did not wait to meet them, Promptly he started in retreat, and his feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground as he beat a retreat from the lot, He did not pause until he reached the nearest polling: then he came to a halt and looked ack, Evidently the excitement was over, He could see the tent-men in a group, and Sun-that-Sbines seemed to be tame enough; in fact, Nat judged from appearances that the fall had in some way injured the bogus red-man. The boy was very cool after bis adventure, but no one knew better than be that he had been in reat danger, Had he been less quick-witted, is history would have ended then and there, Sull watching, be saw the fallen ‘ warrior” helped back to his tent by his companions. ‘*T reckon it’s time for me ter slide, Wonder ef they will suspect me? Most likely they will think it was only some common boy stealin’ a look at them out 0° curlggity Wal, I don’t hanker fur any more.o’ thart kind ter-night, arnd I reckon [ll slope.” _ He lost no time in carrying out this plan, and o curiosity
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- enoucth so that I shall sit at the Worth River Nat. | in a short time he was again at Daniel Beck- with’s. Before he entered he glanced up at the old gentleman’s room; and saw that the windows were still open. Beckwith was persisting in his determination to commit suicide by breathing air. The whole house was quiet, however, show- ing that peace had in a measure been restored, adora was sitting up for Nat, and he gave her what encouragement he could, but did not mention his latest adventure. Y An uneventful night passel, and in the morn- ing Nat went down and found Eudora, Katie and B. Franklin Betts together, The latter had knocked at Mr. Beckwith’s door, but without getting any reply. : They were now considering whether it would be well to enter unbidden. This point had not been settled when there was a vicious ring of the door-bell, Katie was busy, so Betts went to answer it. Justas he laid his hand on the knob the bell rung again in a way which made it almost jump out of the hall, aud Franklin hastened to pull the door open. Then he recoiled in consternation, His master stood outside, Grimly Mr. Beckwith marched in; viciously he slammed. the door to; and then he turned upon Franklin and almost annihilated him with a terrible glare. ‘* Well,” he exclaimed, ‘‘ why do you stare at mi like a half-witted baboon?* ‘“*T be-be-beg your pardon, sah, bu-bu-but I thought—” “What did you think?” shouted Beckwith. “T th-thought you's in yer room, sab.” nf Beckwith suddenly seized Betts by the collar, ‘See here,” he exclaimed, ‘‘ it’s time for you to explain all this stammering. You never did it before yesterday. Are you ridiculing met— do you dare to ridicule me?” . oor Mr. Betts felt that his blood was turning to water, All the serenity of his joyous nature had fled, and he was quite sure he was servant to a madman, ‘* No, sa-sa-sah!” he gasped. ‘Then why do you stummer?” thundered Beckwith. “°Cau-cau-cause I's skeered cl’ar out ob my wits!” howled poor Betts, and his head seemed in danger of running all to eyes, so large did his visual organs become. A quick change passed over Beckwith’s face; the truth flashed upon him, This man was actually afraid of him. He had thought that every one was against him, and that he had sunk so low that even his servant ridiculed him. He had resolved to reassert his supremacy: to defeat those whom he thought to be leagued against him. / , / ‘A look ot grim satisfaction appeared on his face, ‘* You have reason to be,” he declared. Just then Eudora approached. ‘‘Have you baen out, father?” she asked, hesitatingly. ‘* [—have—been—out!” was the slow, but em- phatic reply. “lam such a healthy man that I thought a ten-mile walk before breakfast would be beneficial.” ‘*T am very glad “No Gone iss ery glad! _ bee indeed.” “Furthermore, Miss Beckwith, I am well 4 ways . family table. I shall dc this if I expire before the meal is ended. I contracted pneumonia last night and am near the end of my life, but while TI do live Iam oing to be master of my Own house, Do you ear? “4 “Yes, sir, and— % “Tam going to be master /” repeated the old tletoan, as thovgh ho thought them all ou were able to go.” eckwith—no doubt you are ee ee eee ee ee EE ee eaf. ‘My dear father, I shall be very glad—» “No doubt, no doubt; you look glad) | Franklin!” deen Fi sah.” ‘You will stand behind my chair at the table and wait upon me, Do you hear? “-Ye—ye—yes, sah,” » “ Kate!” : Yes, sor,” faltered Katie McKoevin, alarmed at having that awful gaze turned upon her, “Is breakfast ready?” “ Not quite, sor, but—” ; “Why isn’t it ready?” shouted Beckwith. _“ Why, sor, I thought—” ; “You had no business to think, I don’t hire ou to think, but to work, Why are you idlin ere? Get back to the kitchen, and if breakfas is not ready inside of fifteen minutes, I will be there to help you in a way you won’t like. Do you hear?” ** Yes, sor.” ‘*Taen away with you!” Katie fled precipitately, and Beckwith then turned his gaze upon Nat, ‘* Boy!” ‘“‘Hyar I be,” was Nat’s cheerful response. ‘“ What are you here for?” ‘* Wal, | was sorter hoverin’ erround ter see you rule the roost, so ter speak.” ‘* Did I tell you to come here?” ‘Didn't hear ye tell me so.” “Then how dared you come? Yes, sir, how dared you come?” shouted Beckwith. He had frightened all the others into a panic, and heaspired to frighten Nat, but the boy stood there as cool as ever, his hands in his pockets, and his manner wholly unconcerned. ‘*{ don’t see nothin’ ter be skeered at,” he answered, ‘*How dare you answer me so impudently,” ** Wasn’t aweer I had said anything impudent.” “I’ve a good mind to throw you out of the honse!” thundered the old gentleman. ‘*Great ginger! will yeever make up yer mind w’ot ter do with me?” coolly asked Nat. ‘‘ First I'm ter go, arnd then I’m ter stay, arnd then ’m ter go ag’in,” ** Boy, do you know you are my servant?” ** Pm sartainly in your employ.” “Then why don’t you actas the rest of my servants do?” “That's out o’ the question. TI don’t skeer easy enough ter stutter like B, Franklin Betts, while ez fur actin’ hke Katherine McKeevin, *tain’t possible, other created thing, kin act like a woman, Women is so pestiferously pecooliar that they can’t be imitated, nor onderstood, even by them- selves,” There was a pause. Eudora waited with fear and trembling. Into what new frenzy would Nat’s fearless, yet quaint and respectful, re- marks throw her choleric father? The old gen- tleman gazed grimly at Nat, his face telling nothing of what was in his mind, while several seconds slipped away. Suddenly he turned to Betts, “ Wranklin!” * Yes, sab,” replied the colored man, with a quaver in his voice, **Go to Kate and bid her put another plate on the table beside of mine, This boy will eat with me. With me, Miss Beckwith, do you hear?” He had turned to Eudora, as though he bid her oppose him if she dared. She faintly an- swered in the affirmative, ‘*T like this strange youth, whatever his name is, and he will remain with me permanently. I think that I shall make my will in his favor, and leave him all my property. lf I want to do this, | shall do it. Boy, I have only a few days to live, for pneumonia’s awful hold is apon me. When I goall will be yours; [ cut my relations off with one dollar each, Hang up my hat, and then we wili go to the dining-room arm in arm. Take the hat!” Nat obeyed this injunction, but as he did so, seeing that Mr. Beckwith was looking at Betts, managed to whisper to Eudora: “* Keep cool! Let him be ruler o’ the roost, arnd all will end lovely, Assooredly!” CHAPTER XIV. THE INDIAN DOCTOR CALLS. Nort River Nar went to the dining room arim-in-arm with Mr, Beckwith, as the latter had ordered; he sat beside him at the table; and his ease and appetite did not_suffer from being in such august company. He ate heartily, and while he ate, he talked. If he ceased, Beckwith led him on, and though the old gentleman did not smile, it seemed certain that he found pleas- ure in Nat’s quaint conceits. There was a more pleasing feature of the meal. Mr. Beckwith ceased to speak sternly to Eudora, and his voice actually had a measure of its old kindness when he addressed her, When breakfast was finished Mr, Beckwith told Betts to accompany him to his room, That person bad been doing duty behind his master’s chair, according to orders, and in the presence of the whole family had begun to feel safe. This last order put him in a panic again, and he went with fear and trembling, at was engaged in consoling Eudora, and ving her a hopeful view of the case, when the esorneins bell. Sap Katie answered it, and alter some deay she reappeared in compan with Patrolman Snyvderhane sind The fat officer’s face was aglow with good- humor, and he bowed politely 3 Eudora, Thar ain’t no marn, nor any | POON pre 18 ‘How you vas, Miss Beckwith. 1 see mit my eyes dat you vas feeling charming PY your looks. Dot vas kind of Providence to make dose | young lady so beautiful, don’t it? Poy, how you vas, yourself?” “Do you bring us news, officer?” asked Eudora. ** Dot vos shust what I vas pringing.” | “About my missing uncle?” a“ Ya,” “Have you found him?” ‘Nein, but I have der glue.” “The what? Oh! J see, the clew.” ‘Yu, I have der glue,” “Stick to it, mister,” advised Nat, facetious- ly. vi Foredop Tom has gone mit himself to der Vest. Disis how it vas. He haf drouble mit der Indian doctor, und he think he vas von fraud. How vas he to prove it? Why, go Vest to where Holdsworth game from, und git roof he vas a humpug. Und dot is what he as done; be is all right, Foredop Tom is, und he will gomes back all right mit himself. I told youl would soluv this mystery, und I haf done it. I vas von of der finest!” “ How'd ye git proof?” asked Nat, who placed no reliance in this theory. *T haf not got der proof yet; I have thinked it over, und studied it out, Dot vas der way they do itin France, und I pelieve a French- i vas no smarter than an American, don’t i ‘‘Do you mean thart ye hev merely studied | this out as a theory, arnd that you hev no | proof?” ‘* Dot vas it, und I thinks I have done a good job. Miss Beckwith, 1 sball glaim der reward for finding Foredop Tom, und den resign from der ti«est, und Katie und I vill both marry mit ourselves und move into a corner grocery.” Snyderham’s face beamed. with happiness, but Katie told him to ‘‘go along wid yez,” while Eudora, seeing that the alleged clew ameunted to absolutely nothing, asked if any one knew from what part of the West the In- dian doctor had come, ‘‘Nein,” Snyderham answered, ‘but Fore- dop Tom will find out where.” ** Do you know how large the West is?” “T haf not der stagistics, but I thinks it vas apout der size of Staten Island, Haf no fear, my tear Miss Beckwith, Foredop Tom is not der man to pe discouraged easy mit himself, und if der Vest vas as large as Vestchester Gounty, or even New Tcharsey, he vould find out all. Dot; man should be von of der tinest, py sbimminy!” It was clear that there was not ling whatever in his theory, but he was so innocently pleased with it that neither Eudora nor Nat cared to discourage him, He stayed only a few minutes: then, after a few private words with Katie at the basement door, went off down the street with a placid smile on his face, n a short time Nat was summoned to Mr. Beckwith’s room. That gentleman was sitting in his big chair near the open window, and Nat had never before seen him looking so well. He had nothing in particular to say, but he led Nat on to speak of various subjects, and listened at- tentively to all, His manner continued grave and grim, but ait} grane did he refer to himself as an in- valid, Finally the door-bell rung, and Beckwith turned his head quickly toward Betts. ** Franklin!” ‘‘ Yes, sah.” ‘That is Doctor Holdsworth. Go and escort him here.” 6 Ves, sabi Nat said nothing, but he was wondering how the ‘‘ white Indian” would be impressed by the new order of things. Holdsworth was soon ushered in by Betts, but he stopped short as he saw the open windows, Surprise and, Nat thought, consternation show- ed in his expression, ““My dear Beckwith,” he abruptly said, ‘¢ what does this mean?” “To what do you refer?” asked the patient, grimly, “The windows—the air! Why, sir, this is very indisereet! You will contract a cold!” “Sir,” replied Beckwith, sternly, ‘I already have the pneumonia!” “Vou have?” “T have, sir.” ** Then why in the world are you sitting in the full current of air?’ Chippewa demanded. ‘* Because, sir, I have decided to die. I have found that all my relatives are against me; that they consider me an incumbrance, and are anx- ious to get rid of me. I am resolved to do ab $) ]
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Se I Se that I can for them, and I have deliberately exposed myself to this danger. I slept last night with my windows open. The result is that I already have pneumonia, and the end is near!” This statement was made in a firm voice, and he gazed unwaveringly at the Tudian doctor. The latter looked dumfounded, and ill at ease. * Really, si, something must be done—” “To what? For what?’ ‘To save you from this deadly complaint! You must bave the windows closed; go to bed and take a sweat—” “Thank you, no; J have been perspiring for weeks. [ have had enough of it,” North River Nat felt like uttering a cheer, while Doctor Chippewa’s face flushed. “My dear sir, this is alarming,” declared 5 Ate ~ ve Re ere er Sa aoe = North River Nat. a Reg'lar bengawi tiger, and He keeps me att It awl the time. I[ can’t leave the howse at awl, and I am losing Flesh I want some Buddy 2 help me keep him solcan git fresh Air. 1 reedit Bad. Hither send Greggs or Si: €, or Come yourself by 2 Nite, * From yores respeckful, ** Dave Moopy.”’ Just below this was a postscript which stated that the writer did not know as the recipient of the letter knew where to find him, so directions to that end followed. ‘* What d’ye think o’ that?” Nat asked, as Heselton looked up, 4s “4 Jupiter! it looks like news of Foretop Tom!” ‘* Assooredly, it does. Obsarve thart the writer refers ter a ‘sailor chap.’ Who's thart, ef not Tom Beckwith? Arnd notice how he re- ER SS a RS RMS ec ae think of putting a wall across such a small building. Nat had formed a plan by which he hoped to get inside the shanty quietly, and with Heselton at his beels he marched to the door and knock- ed. It was promptly opened; a shaggy head and brutal face appeared; but the man inside kept the door at an angle which left onlya small opening, “IT want ter see Dave Moody,” Nat an- nounced, ‘**?’m him,” ‘“*Then I want ter see ye. I’ve come from Doc Holdsworth,” and here Nat lowered bis voice, ‘‘arnd I’ve got a letter, ye see,” * Give it ter me!” “Not bhyar. Doc told me not ter let an see me give it ter ye, Ill step in a minute,” one ere fers ter Greggs arnd Parsons.” ‘“No, ye won’t!” Moody quickly replied. “*T know it.” ‘** Your suspicions are right.” “No?” ** Allow me to feel your pulse.” “Sartain, they be. octor Chippy hired | ‘No, sir/ I don’t low nobody in hyar. Ef **Go on!” ye hev a letter, hand itover, What’re ye ’feered “ Fever!—very high fever! Mr, Beckwith, I implore you to retire and take due precautions: ** Pneumonia is not to be baffled, sir.” “There is yet time to save you; I feel sure of it. A monthago you could not have been saved but my medicines have built up your system and your strength greatly. .There is yet hope, if you will only obey me.” **T am done with hope; what I want now is pneumonia, and I am going tohaveit. Itisa privilega of the rich to have such luxuries as they desire. I want pneumonia; I have it; and I am going to keepit. ’I'will carry me off inside of a week, I shall retain you as my doctor to the end, and I_ will take whatever medicine you offer, but I won’t go to bed, and I will sit hero in the deadly draught from tie open windows!” Doctor yy te sat in silence and stared at the speaker. Before ho bad handled his dupe with ease, but this new freak utterly upset him. How was he to meet it? What could he do to stop the current of events! True, Beckwith had said that he would be retained as physician, but he was astute enough to feel sure that the end of his harvest was near; that he would soon be dis- missed. As soon as ho recovered his wits he came to the conclusion that half a loaf was better than none, and as he could not bring Beckwith to his pint of view, he once more prepared to humor is dupe’s whims. Moody, Greggs arnd Parsons ter steal Foretop Tom. It was done, arnd they confined him in Moody’s house, but Greggs arnd Sime Parsons hev shirked their share o’ the work, arnd Moody is a-kickin’, Fax is fax, arnd they’re stubborn things.” ‘* Where did you get this letter?” “Right from Chippy, by ginger! I was in Mr. Daniel Beckwith’s room this mornin’ when Chippy called, He laid his big hat down on the table. I seen a slip o’ paper projectin’ from be- tween the hat proper arnd the sweat-band. Now, ez a rool, Paint no pestiferous thief, but Tm hevin’ a lively skirmish with the Injun_ doc- tor, arnd knowin’ him ter be a first-class villain, I gobbled thart note arnd read it, Would you nat’rally expect me ter give it back ter him, arter I'd once readit? Assooredly not! Ifroze to it like a pooty gal ter merlasses candy. Jes’ so!” ‘¢ We will go to the police at once.” What fur?” ““They must be notified, so they can rescue Foretop Tom,” “Thart ain’t my way.” ** What is your way?” ‘‘The perleece hey hed due notice o’ Tom’s disappearance, buc they ain’t got him, hev they? No, sir! Wal, [ve gradooally worked this thing out, arnd now I want the credit. Youarnd me are enough ter rescoo Yoretop Tom—why shouldn’t we do it?” Pe Oe ee ee ee ee eee ee EEE eee of?” Erwin Heselton had taken due notice of Movudy’s manner, and in his opinion it ws cno- firmed all suspicions against the man. e de- termined to delay no longer, and with a sudden movement flung his whole weight against the door, The shock was unexpected and resistless, and it not only dashed the door open but sent Moody spinning several feet backward, Heselton sprung inside, followed by Nat. The latter immediately uttered a shout; almost the first thing he saw was the honest face of Foretop Tom, The latter was not in good shape to receive him, however; he was bound to an upright post, and a gag was in his mouth. Nat darted toward him, thinking only of re- leasing him, but Moody uttered a roar of rage, caught up a club it started toward him. Heselton sprung forward and caught the rough’s arm, and a desperate struggle began. Heselton soon found that he was no match for the big ruffian, but he clung to him 1 ke a burr, and managed to save himself from injury. He was whirled about hke a top. Suddenly a roar filled the shanty. ‘*Oh! ye land-shark, I’ve got a chance at yo at last, hev J?’ cried a deep voice. And then Foretop Tom came down upon Moody like a hurricane. His captivity had not stiffened his joints, and tke way he used his arms was astonishing. He took the whole case / He asked many questions, and made all the Heselton held out his hand. into his own hands, end showered blow after show of medical knowledge that he could, and “Tm with you, my boy!” blow upon his Jate captor, driving him back- then said that he would go home and prepare a **Come on, then.” f ward, and finally ended by giving bim an fresh lot of medicine, And they left the house’at once, The course | upper-cut, which landed him senseless in the When his mind once more became free from | was back up town, but circumstances enabled | corner. business affairs he found time to look at Nat | them to make the trip quickly. In a compara- ‘Sharks an’ anchors!” the honest sailor then more closely, He did not like this boy, He did | tively short time they approached the vicinity | exclaimed, ‘I wish it wa’n’t ag’in’ the rules an’ not suspect that Nat was acting the detective, | of Dave Moody’s residence, as indicated in the | regerlations ter hit a man when he’s down, Jd oo ae face was too intelligent and sharp to | postscript to his letter, like to hammer ye fifteen minutes longer, jest please Chippewa. During the last few years no part of New | fur luck!” ( This being the caso he suggested that the boy | York had changed ote tien that Which lay to| ‘Say, you're Foretop Tcm, ain’t ye?” asked be sent away from the chamber, and kept away, | the west of Central Park. Only a few years be~ | Nat, eagerly. but Beckwith so curtly replied that Nat would | fore scarcely a building was to be seen thero ‘“‘T am, by Neptune!” remain that the suggestion was not repeated. | with the exception of the sianties which clus- “Thought so, Knowed ye by yer pictur’, Chippewa made a few of his most oily and | tered along the rocks, almost as thick as swal- | arnd a dim resemblance ter Dan’! Beckwith.” bland remarks, and then left the house. lows’ nests under the eaves of a country barn. ‘* Hey! do you know Dan’l?” Ten minutes later Nat emerged from the base- | Progress and improvement had come, however; ‘¢ Assooredly !” ment door and hastened away with long, quick | the ring of the hammer had been almost inces- “Sharks an’ anchors! I’m glad ter hear it. i steps. It seemed that he was going on import- | sant; the shanties had disappeared one by one, | Shake!” , ; ¥ ant business, What did it mean? and in then ee had risen scores of handsome | The hs Rillck Moni with Both his res- zi} houses of brick and stone, cuers, then turned suddenly around, b TFS Some of the shanties still remained, as Hesel- **Look byar, messmates, the quicker we git P| CHAPTER XVI. ton saw when they reavhed the vicinity, and in | away from hyar, the better. All Shanty-town : THE £HANTY ON THE ROCKS ene ne hhey were Seren, pueey eehin i in Ok oy ae Jenpeebark, an nee be on A hy “, ; _ their heads on the top of high rocks, or almost | top on us ef we don’t up-anchor an’ git away un- i ERWIN HESELTON was seated in his room on | hid them in depressions, but a more woe-begone | der full sail, We'll leave Aim fur now, fur he’s “at Forty-sixth street when North River Nat enter- | Jot of dwellings was never seen. 1t was as | got a good thrashin’. Now, light out!” i te ed. The boy seemed a good deal out of breath. | though they knew that ina few years more the It was gcod advice, and they went accord- by and there was a trace of excitement on his usual- | rocks would be drilled and blasted away, thede- | ingly. No more was said until they were well ey.” ly Bp face. to hi pressions filled, and the shanties forever swept | beyond the shanties, and then Tom’s tongue es “What is wrong!” he demanded “Mthe letter had said that Moody's bh ME Shas an’ enchore! ‘but Te hed a bard Ri yr 5 ” . e letter sai at Moody’s house was ‘Sharks an’ snchors! but I’ve had a har HK eho know as nothin’ is wrong,” Nat an- not ee “a en i. vot bis block, roe mesenetct. i. a Lad askin’ me ter eh . fs 4 any could tell where he lived. Meet an oO riend on a Nor iver pier, an \ ‘: But you come in haste and—” de ooedinaly they stopped a boy and inquired: | it proved ter be a contemptible trap, Once on Ri: _ .Assooredly. My b'loved corntemporary,| ‘Dave Moody? Yis, I know where he lives. | the pier I was set upon by land-sharks, knocked BA jest cast yer eyes over thart public dockymunt.” | D’ye see de goat up on de rocks?” senseless, chucked in a boat an’ brougbt up here- “Ns Nat slap L a soiled half-sheet of writing- u& Assooredly.” away; an’ I’ve been ‘confined in that miserable ite paper emenaotically: down on the table in front “ An’ de shanty jist beyent it, wid @ stove | hovel ever since, Sbarks: an’ anchors! [ve ee of Heselton, ; waka poipe chimbly in wan corner?” sailed the sea thirty year, an’ I never was so ey, ‘‘ Peruse thart epistle ter the Chippewas!” he | ~ “T do.” mad before as ve been durin’ that time.” rs $34 ee ot trace of exultation in his voice. _ “Wal, dat is where Dave lives, Ef ye go! ‘Do ye know who kidnap ef” Nat asked. P h eselton adhe aged ys ara writing on | dere, look a little out fur de goat, furhe may; ‘I do, that, Him that held me thar was’ a. " i and he read the following lines: butt you wan when ye ain’t aclookin bis named ioody; them who kidnapped me as ““Doc HotpsworRTH:— infor tw so did Na med Gr an’ Parsons; but the one one who if } ee like ter noifIam 2be left ,aloan bere Hewiton. ‘After a httls M oasultation they ae. was at the Spottom on it ‘all was a diabolical — ae ay] the time, | Greggs and Parsons don’t cunt near | cided to apply boldly at the shanty door. Its | scoundre] named Holdsworth.” a 6 can't go out? git a Breath ov fresh Aim and itt is | 8iz¢ indicated that there could be but one room, | _ {: How d’ye know all this?” oa tellin’on My he'lth. It was the agre’m-nt thatt] | or if there was more, that there would be no Heerd "em talk it over. Besides, Holds- + was 2 hev help 2 keep the Man. but neether You, or | more of a division between them than a blanket, | worth an’ me had some trouble, an’ I know his. ipsa Fe: | ae Greggs, or Parsons, comes near, The sailor chap ig! or something of that kind, Nobody would ! object.” vin i. h ; ce 4) . aoe a 1
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‘Do yer want ter git squar’ with him?” * Dol? Sbarksan’ anchors! Idoan’ I will!” **Assooredly! You're jest my huckleberry,” Nat returned, in bigh glee. ‘i'm inter this ease, myself, and I reckon the Injun doctor is | nigh the end o’ his rope. Come on, fellers, arnd | we'll fix his flint right off, quick!” CHAPTER XVIII. THE INDIAN DOCTOR AND HIS NEMESIS, ‘““ Say! thar’s Dan’! Beckwith!” It was North River Nat’s voice, He and his companions were passing near the Indian doc- tor’s tent on their way to Mr. Beckwith’s, and i had been looking somewhat suspicously at a cab which was standing on a cross-street. When they passed it, Nat made the above exclamation. The gentleman he had indicated was, indeed, , Beckwith, and what was more, he was in the lot and going directly toward the tent. This he i} soon entered. Foretop Tom had had an account of his broth- | er’s late moyemen's, and was not so much sur- prised to see him thero, but as it became evident that he was secking the Indian doctor, the old sailor’s face flushed. “Pll put a stop ter this right hyar an’ now!” he exclaimed, striding toward the tent. “Go it, boots!” cried Nat, running to keep up with him, } Through the lot they went, and Nat in his enthusiasm outstripped his companions. He reached the entrance of the tent and gained a view of the interior, The so-called Indians were there, squatted down at one side, while Holds- worth and Daniel Beckwith were at the center, H Beckwith, leaning slightly upon his cane, was | reaching out his disengaged hand to receive a | bottle of medicine which Doctor Chippewa was 7 extending to him. Suddenly Chippewa’s wrist was grasped by a strong young hand,and the indignant face of ! the boy detective met his gaze. ‘*Hold on thar, ye white Injun!” cried Nat. ‘* You can’t peddle arly more p’ison medicine in i New York!” Holdsworth stood in a species of stupefaction, ‘ and then Foretop Tom rushed into the tent, : ‘Right you be!” he cried. ‘* You’re at the ‘| end o’ yer rope, ye land-shark, an’ you an’ me Lave got an account ter settle, by “Thomas!” exclaimed Mr, fully. ‘¢ Tt’s me, sure as you live, an’ I’m a man.-o’- war jest now. Holdsworth, you scoundrel, you did a big thing in shutting me up, didn’t ye? Wal, it’s my turn now, an’ Pi shut you up, with ther perleece fur jailers.” Doctor Chippewa recovered his coolness re- markably, ‘‘ My dear man, what do you mean?” he cried, “T don’t understand a word you say—” “Tell th.t ter the marines! This hyar boy hez the note writ ye by Dave Moody—” * Assooredly,” interrupted Nat; ‘‘arnd I’ve been over in Hoboken arnd seen Sime Parsons, Ob! yer jig is up!” A quick change appeared on the Indian doc- tor’s face, He saw that all was known—he had already discovered the loss of the fatal letter— and one idea only remained in bis mind. He must escape! Quickly he made a’rush to pass from the tent. The old sailor sprung in front of him, but was hurled aside as though he bad been a child. Chippewa’s strength was surprising. He rushed out and ran rapidly across the lot, ‘‘ He’s makin’ fur that cab!” cried Nat, ‘‘ Head him off!” There was a rush, but Holdsworth had a good start, and he proved himself a remarkable run- ner. He reached the cab, gave an order, sprung inside and the vehicle went rattling away, Plainly, it had previously been under engage- ment to him, < North River Nat was far from being recon. ciled to see him escape. After all he ha under- gone he felt that he ought to have the satisfac. tion of seeing the man in the grasp of law, and he certainly deserved it. [ , Forgetting all about his allies in the excite- ment of the moment, he darted in pursuit. Eagerly he looked about for a policeman, None was in sight. Still he ran on, though the cab was gaining and rapidly drawing away from him: at that rate it would soon be lost. : He began to lose his breath, and the cab in- creased its lead, The ct was discourag- ing, but just as he felt that he must give up, an- other cab came rolling slowly along. Nat threw up his hand and gaspingly bade the driver stop, but the latter thought it a boyish trick and kept on, eptune!” Beckwith, joy- a North River Nat. Nat drew a dollar-bill from his pocket and waved it desperately. The bait was too much for the cabman, be paused, After that a brief colloquy settled the rest; Nat mounted to the box beside the driver, and the pursuit began. Holdsworth’s vehicle was still to be seen, and the second man whipped up his horses and tried to run him down, but Nat had soon discovered that his driver stood so much in awe of the law against fast driving that he was not likely to cover himself with glory, Only for that,every*hing would soon have been settled,for the leaders, believing that the pursuers had been distanced, had moderated their pace, though still going fast enough to cause patrol- men by the way, to look at them sharply. Nat was ina fever of impatience. If Holds- worth eluded them then he might afterward be taken, it was true, but in that case the police would share with the boy detective in the honor of running the man down, and Nat felt that all honor belonged to him, He believed that his cabman might have ended the pursuit if he cared to, but all that he did was to keep the fugitive in sight. A long mde followed, the course being down Ninth avenue to Fourteenth street, thence down Hudson. Nat grimly consoled himself with the thought that Manhattan Island ended at the Battery, but they did not go as far as that. The foremost | cab finally left Hudson street and moved toward the North River. The boy urged on his cabman, and they rapidly closed the gap. They reached We:t street and saw that the fugitives had stopped, Holdsworth leaped out, and, valise in hand, hastened upon a pier with long strides, Nat took in thesituation ata glance, | A Long Island Sound steamer lay beside the ier, with every indication of speedy departure. Night was drawing near, and it was about leaving for Boston, Doctor Chippewa’s plan became plain; he hoped to leave the city. The boy pursuer ran after him, Holdsworth strode up the gang-board just as the deck hands seized the ropes to pull it aboard, and turned around with a relieved expression on his face, The sailors pulled at the ropes. then a boyish figure darted forward, ‘*Stop the boat!” shouted North River Nat, * That Injun doctor is wanted.” And he pointed one finger at Chippewa. The words checked the deck-hands for a mo- ment, but the next instant they gave another pull, They, at least, would take no notice of the | Nat turned in despair toa stout | interruption. policeman beside him, ‘Say, mister, don’t let that pestiferous critter escape!” ‘* Who are you?” the officer asked, “Tm Five Points Phil, arnd— Say, they’re goin’ ter start the boat! Stop ’em!” ‘* Yes, stop ’em!” roared a deep voice, ‘ Stop ’em, or I go as a passenger!” Big Foretop Tom shot past Nat and, unheed- ing the absence of the gang-board, leaped to the deck, of the steamer, At the same moment Erwin Heselton grasped the policeman’s arm. ‘* Officer,” he cried, ‘* the law wants that long- haired scoundrel.” , All these excited speakers could not be disre- garded, and preparations for starting the steamer ceased. Auother policeman joined the re and their purpose to investigate was eVi- ent. Holdsworth saw himself cornered; he could retreaé no further. To attempt to secrete him- self on the steamer would be useless, especially as he had no state-room engaged. He deter- mined to face the danger coolly, and did so, Unfortunately for him the weight of evidence and outward respectability was against him, and when he had tried a little bluffing without avail, he decided that his best way was to sub- mit quietly, meet the charges, and rely on the ossible inability of the accusers to prove that e had any part in Foretop Tom’s abduction, Accordingly, he surrendered with as good race as possible, 4 Poreton Tom and Heselton had reached the place by following Nat’s cab as his had followed the doctor’s, and they were free to confess that | ie clew would have been utterly lost only for im. Between the three, Holdsworth had been run own, An hour later Foretop Tom, Nat and Heselton entered, Danivl Beckwith’s house, As none of the three had a key Katie admitted them, andat | once informed them that Mr. Beckwith and Eudora were in the parlor and wished to see them. They entered. Just | An*-g ; ig tae Ok CREE kee Or Ca eee a ny Pe RS . 15 So SR SSD meee RENE SE Se LER ee ee me nes aeons | Mr. Beckwith arose and approached with a firm step, though his eyes were strangely moist, | ‘Brother Thomas,” he said, giving the old | sailor his band, “‘ | need hardly say thit Lani glad to see you safely back. You are very welcome, andin the future I will make myself a more agreeable brother than in the past!” ‘Then the speaker moved to the next in the line. “Mr. Heselton, I am glad to see you back at my house. I shall not be a rock im your path any longer—I dare say you and Eudora can settie the rest!” He released the young man’s band and took that of Nat. ‘To this boy,” he continued, with a tremor in his voice, “‘ l owe more than I can well express. 1 have been the victim of delusions which made my own life, and those of all about me, miser- able. .How 1 gained the idea that [ was sucha sick man, and why I persisted in the idea against reputable physicians, I don’t know. I can only believe that | was for the time a monomaniac. ‘*My mind is now clear, and the reaction dates from tke time when this boy unimtenuionall made meangry. Acting in this angry mood found out that I had nearly all my old strength, Since then J have been thinking, and the ex- posure of that quack doctor bas pense my eyes thoroughly. I am a fairly well man, | know it, andi will prove it. No more close chambers and drugs for me; while | am as well as at pres- ent, fresh air is my best medicine. “My b y, it was you who opened my eyes so that I could see myself as I was, and it was you who saved Foretop Tom, I owe you much. To- ‘night, my warmest thanks are yours; later, I | will give youasum of money large enough to | last you many a day.” The old gentleman’s voice was trembling, and ; he paused, “T ain’t greatly in need o’ hard cash, my frien’,” the young detective replied, *‘fur I hev a lib’ral guardeen in one Solomon Richn ore, , Whom I once give a lift when pestiferous critters | had him down. Fax is fax, arnd they’re stub- born things. Your friendship I shall be right glad ter hev, though. By the way, 1 drop the name o’ North River Nat arter ter-night, arnd resoom that by which I’m ginerally knowed— Five Points Phil. It sorter fits me better, fur I ‘growed up ’round Paradise Park, arnd hev a deep arnd abiding affection fur the lively old Sixth Ward, Assooredly!” ‘* All this we will speak of later,” answered Mr.-Beckwith. ‘‘ Eudora, my dear, will you ring the bell?” She did so, and B. Franklin Betts appeared, his face wreathed in the old tranquil ex- pression, | * Franklin!” | Yes, sah.” ‘Please tell Katie to serve dinner at once.” “\' Yes, sah.” And Mr. Betts bowed and withdrew. The grasp of the law fell upon the whole clique of plotters, and Holdsworth, Greggs, Parsons and Moody were found to be old of- fenders. They were tried, convicted, and sent to Sing Sing in a short time. It was proved that the Indian doctor’s ‘ medicines” were worthless roots and herbs gathered within fifty miles of New York City. ’ Sun-that-Shines, Walking Bear and War- Wolf were found to be white cowboys Holds- | worth had brought with him from the West to carry out his scheme. As there were no charges against them, they were allowed to return. Mr. Beckwith is again wholly himself, and no one could be more reasonable or kind. Foretop Tom has given i the sea, and the brothers seem to be renewing their youth, Eudora is now Mrs. Erwin Heselton, and they make a bappy couple, B. Franklin Betts remains in the household, and is more frisky than ever, but Katie has gone. Officer Snyderham, convinced that he is not a great detective, has resigned from the police force, and, aided by money advanced bim oy Mr. Beckwith, is doing a fine business in the coveted “corner grocery.” Mrs. Snyderham who makes him a devoted wife, was, it m hardly be said, once Katie McKeeyin, Five Points Phil is nearing the day when he will have other matters to attend to than detec- tive work. When his education is complete he | will have a good business situation. In the mean while, he often calls on the Beck- | withs, and when they speak of his skirmish call bim | with the Indian doctor, they still North River Nat. ; THE END. yy at eae : as rae ii ia few
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As 4 / = i Cn Samy a a —e — ine BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novela, 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick's Defiance. 28 Buffalo Ken; or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise, 85 Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. 42 Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 49 Omaha Ol; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. Bi Deadwood Dick's Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 7B Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine, 77 Corduroy Charlie; or, Deadwood Dick’s Last Act. 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. 104 Deadwood Dick's Device; or, The Double Cross Sign, 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick's Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s Gulch. 188 Blonde BI; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. 149 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick's Big Strike. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick's Dream; or, The Rivuls of the Rond. 201 The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Desdwood Dick’s Ward. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Ad- venture. 217 Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand, 221 Sugar-Coated Sam; or, The Black Gown. 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughe, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 268% Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick of regon, 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats, 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- ginya. 851 Dendwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta. B62 Tne wees Dick’s Clalm; or, The Fairy Face of Fare ute, 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds; or, The Mystery of Joan orter. Deadwood Dick in New York} or, A “Cute Cave.” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand. Deadwood Dick, Jr. Nickel-Plate Ned; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Defiance. 458 en Sam, of Shasta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Full and. Flush Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Ronnd- Up. 465 Philo Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at aim A771 Bozeman BI; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Corral. 476 pusabalas Marry, tie Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's ing Detective, 481 Moll Mystery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Dendwood. 491 5 > in Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick ria Compact. 496 Monte Cristo, Jr.: or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Inheritance. +44 poaewees eae De Angas ; or, Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop. 0 endwoo ck’s Deliverance, B15 Deadwood Dick’s Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick’s Three. 529 Deadwood Dick’s Danger Ducka, B84 Deadwood Dick’« Death Hunt, 589 Deadwood Dick Jr., in Texas. 404 Dondned pee Drey = per Weat Vidoeq. endwood Dick on iia Mettle. 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick in Boston. 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia, Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler, 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woelt; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York, 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective, 80 Rosebud Rob or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miners; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand, Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance, 92 Canada Chet 3 or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 96 Watch-Eyes or, Arabs ond Angels of a Great City. 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator, 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinna:nen Chip, the Girl Sport, — - 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. 188 Bows Kob the King of Bootblacks, ob. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada}; or, The Sierras Scamps, 181 Wild Prank, the Buckskin Bravo, 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 226 Snoozer, the B-y Sharp; or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Rin, the Trail Tornado, 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. 244 Sierra Sam, tho Frontier Ferret. 245 Sierra Sam's Seeret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Angel o! Big Vista, 258 Sierra Sam’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 27ZB Jumbo Joey the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll'’« Victory. 2X5 Nenver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza. 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or, The Road Queem. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, the Sir! Miner; or, the Iren-Nerved Sport. B25 Kelley, Mickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia. 880 Little Qulck-Shot 3 or, The Doad Face of Daggersville. 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miver, 9 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. 48 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood, BSS First-Class Fred, ‘he Gent trom Gopher. 868 yreke Jim, the Gold-Gatherer; or, The Lottery ef fe 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize, 878 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. BS2 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengennee, B85 Yreka Jim's Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, 889 Bicycle Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam, 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Wat Marry, the Mase Ball Detective. Sam Slabsides, the Begear-Boy Detective, 4 Jim Benak and Pal, Private Detectives, 8 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 6 Sealskin Sam, tho Sparkier. BY BUFFALO BILL (lon. Wm. F. Cedy) 8 Kawase King; or, The Red Right Hand, hantom Spy or, The Pilot of the Prarie, ry Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout. Border Robin Hood ; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trash Se eae ae a 55 BEADLE’S*H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAIAM, ? The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Ontcast, 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Bucenn er; or The Fugitive Yacht, 24 Diamond Dirk er The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants. 75 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, O02 Dick Dead- Eves the Boy Sinmuggier. 1i The Sea-Devil; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy, 16 The Hussar Captain; or, The Hermit of Hell Gate. 9? Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 204 Gold Plume}; or, The Kid-Glove Sport. 216 Bison BUI, the Prince of the Reins. 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 229 Crimson Kate ; or, The Cowboy's Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowbey Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy ; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer 3 or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. 264 ; he Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure sinnd, 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, The Chase of “The Gold Ship.’ 280 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pearl, the Pirate's Bride. 284 The Sea Marauders or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. $04 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler. $08 Keno kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. 814 ane Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long rail. 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover; or, The Flagless Schooner, 888 The Indlan Pilots; or, The Search for Pirate Island, 887 Warpath WILL, the Boy Phantom. 898 Seawall, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Iaodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Insurgent; er, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Yachtaman; or, The War-Clouu’s Cruise. 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, Tae Corsair. 487 The Sca Raider, 441 The Ocenn Firefly 3 or, A Middy’s Ver geance. 446 Iaphazard are y. 3 or, The Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard WII: or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts, 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Conater, 474 Florays or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will's Last Case. 4S7 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, 50? The Hunted Midrhipman. 611 The Outlawed Middy. 5620 Buckskin BILL, the Comanche Shadow. 5625 Brothers in Buckskin. 5830 The Buckskin Bowers. 535 The Bue skin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rie. 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 5650 Lalitte’s Legacy: or. The Avenging Son, 5655 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower. 5665 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. s 1 i 1 BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 WII! Somers, the Bow D, tective. 122 Phil Wardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete 3 or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. 180 Detective Dick ¢ or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, ‘be Bootblack Detective, 147 WHll Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Black Beas, Will Wildtire’s Racer. 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 162 WIll Wildfire In the Woods, 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. 170 A Tramp Card; or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses, 174 Rob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 188 The Widden Mand ¢ or, Wiil Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Walyard, the Life Boat Boy; cr, The Smagglers, 18 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed ; or, Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Petective. 220 Tom ‘Tanner; or, The black Sheep ot the Flock. 225 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; cr, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail. 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice, 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. 805 Dashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker City. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detectiye; or, Fred Flyer’s Bliceara, 867 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry, the Leveler; or, The Bloods of the Boulevard, 408 Firelly Jack, tle River-Rat Detective. 428 The Lost Finger}; or, he Entrapped Carhier. 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective, 482 Invinetble Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick, thé Jolly Vagabond, 466 Wide-Awake Jerry) Detective; or, Entombed Alive, 479 Detective Dodge : or, Tho Mystery of Frank Hearty, 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman; or, Too Sharp fer the Sharper, 566 The Secret service Boy Detective. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Vellowstone Jack; or, The oan, er. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat. 65 Murricane Bin; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. 119 Mustang Sam $ or, The King of the Plains, 186 Night-lawk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch. 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. ; 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Blick Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Dendly Dash}; or, Fighting Fire witb Fire. 184 The Boy Trailers; 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 Rarranca Wolf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League, 885 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide. 855 The King of the Wood«: or Daniel Boone’s Last Trail. 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. FH ee ee, tee “a : No Double Numbers. BY OLL COOMES, 5 Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58S The Border King; or, The Secret Fre. ZL Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Hawkeye Harry the Young Trapper R ager 88 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman, 148 Scar-Face Saul, tle Si/ent Hunter, 146 Silver Star, the oy Knight. . 158 Eagle Kit, the Poy 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 Honters, 208 The Boy Hercules: or, Vhe 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 Detectives or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Disguised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranges, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 272 Minkakin Mike, the Boy Sharp-hooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon ¢ or, Ruinbolt, the Ranger. 884 Whip-king Joe, the Bov Ranchero, 409 Hercules; or, Dick, the Boy Ranger, 417 Webfoot Mone, the Tramp Detective, 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Ginnt o! the Yellowstone, 444 Little Buckakin, tne Young Proirie Centaur. 457 Wingedtoot Fred; or. ()!d Poln Saul, 468 Tamarac ‘Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River hyidenie. 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojun. 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. BY T. C, HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, Th» Boy Spy of ’76. 87 The Hidden Lodge}; or The Litth Hunter. AT Nightingale Naty «1, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dand ack 3 or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trai. 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midrdght Jack 3 or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Gride; or, The White Quees, 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr.: or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Sprrts or, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado ‘Toms or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 18S Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw : or, The Queen of Ente’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Geld Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Tovknot's Crosade. 281 Plucky Phils or, Rosa, the Re| Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravo; or, The Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apoliv, the King-Pin of Bowie. 267 The Buckskin Detective. 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes. 294 Uewamie Dany or, The Bowie lade of Coehetopa. 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Buily, 816 Old Eclipse, Tramp Card of Arizonn. 826 The Ten Parday or. The Terror of Take-Notiee. 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the La so. 845 Pitilesa Matt; or, Red Thunderhol:’s Secret. BOG Cool sam © Par’: o The Terrible Six. B66 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Crt'asn3 or, he B ccuneer’s Girl Fee. 896 Rough Rob: or The | win Champions of Blue Blazes. 411 The Silken Low-o: or, The Rose of Raneh Rebie, 418 Fellx Fox, the boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump, the order Rattler, 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vampirca; or, Red Rolfe’s Pigees. 461 One Against Fifty 3 or, Uhe Last Man of Kene Bar. A770 The Roy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Bunt. A7? The Exceisior Sport: or, The Washingtes Spottr, 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 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 Bey Detestives. 558 Dodger Dick’s Desperate Case, 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocq. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. By Gel. Prentics Ingraham, 571 Air-Line Funke, the Young Engineer. By J. C. Cowdriek. 572 Deadwood Mick, Jr., in Chicago. By E. L. Wheeler. 7B The Two Shadows. By T. C. Harbaugh, B74 Old Weasel-top, the Man with the Dogs, By P. 8. Warne. 575 zee, Surgeon-Scout Detective. By Colonel Preatise neranam, 576 The Silver Sport. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. 577 Pavement Pete, the Seeret Sifter, By Jo Pleree- B78 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. By Edward L. Wheeler, 579 a Chimney Spy5 or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party, v J. C. Cowdrick. 580 The Outcast Cadet; er, The False Detective. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 581 Donble-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. By George C. Jenks. 582 D Dick’s Drop. By T. C. Harbaugh. BRS by aad Sol, the Man Witha Shadow. By Lient. A, K, Sines. 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Denver. By Ed. L, Wheeler. 5Sh Will Water®, the Bov Ferret. By 1. Enten, BG vo meaekto Avenger. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 587 Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. By Wm. CL wana o jerce. 588 -k-o’-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector. By 589 reek at and Pard: or, The Dead Set at Silver City. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. Ready November 6, 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr’s., Decree. By E. L. Wheeler. Ready November 13, i &91 Delmonte, the Young Sea-Rovér. By Col. P Iagraham, Ready November 20. 592 The Boy Pinkerton. By J.C. Cowdrick- Ready Noveinber 27. 598 Keen Clem, the Ranch Imp. By P. S, Warne. Ready December 4. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. By T. C, Harbaugh. Ready Beeember 1). A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all newsdealors, five conte per copy, or sont by mail on receipt of six cents exch. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 WilHam Street, New Yerk. Sin