Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 572) (1888 07 10)
The text was read from the page scans by machine (OCR), so it has mistakes and its columns may run together. See the pages · About this title · At the Internet Archive
Page 1
im [alla allellallall| meee] QUAY RS > : oye Z LE CraTnea LL, WS SAG acacia < rr ST ee MOMMA, \ WO UI NY RQ ss r =“ iGeNee, mw Copyrigat, 1888 by BEADLE AND ADAMS, (ero Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second {mee M July 10, 1888. 4 $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, ° Vol. XXII a Year. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. No. 572. Fn eS TS TH ’ HA Vi) THE ANARCHST'S DATGBER, BY E. L. WHEELER, \ AUTHOR OF ‘* DEADWOOD DICK,” ‘' DENVER ¢ DOLL, ‘‘ YREKA JIM,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I, IN THE CONSPIRATORS’ HEADQUARTERS **So old Coleridge is dead?’ “Yes. He died early this morning, and 2 uess there are mighty few who are sorry for it, *twixt you and I!” “IT don’t agree with you, there!” the first === —$—— — = speaker declared. ‘‘ Mebbe the old cuss wasn’t ——— == = = ——— quite so lar as he might be, among his em- SHE ADVANCED HESITATINGLY AND GAZED DOWN AT THE BOUND DETECTIVE WITH ployees, but he stood high in favor among the STARTLED CURIOSITY. upper ten!”
Page 2
2 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago, - t ‘Curse the upper ten!” cried the second Speaker, smiting the table with his fist— curse every one of them, I say! If they were swept from the face of the earth, then we poor slaves would stand on terms of equality with all other men.” ‘‘ Bravo!” put in a third. and death to monopolistic capital, forever! are tbe people, and must be heard!” This declaration was received with boisterous Peper, by several lusty voices, he scene of the foregoing conversation was the interior of a dingy little lager bser saloon, on Lake street, Chicago, and the time.was some three months. after the execution of the anar- chists, Spies, Parsons, etc. A group of men were seated about a common pine table, engaged in smoking, drinking beer, and conversing on the then all important topic of the day, for, although the bomb-throwers of the fearful Haymarket massacre were even now moldering in their tombs, the spirit of anarchy was still rife in the metropolis of the West, and apparently growing stronger each and every day. The party at the table all were roughly- dressed, bearded, and rather ill-looking, and with one exception, were of foreign descent, three, being Germans, two English, and one evidently a Spaniard. Of the lot, however, the latter was decidedly the best looking. Although he had a dusky countenance, he possessed handsome eyes, a pleasant mouth, and jetty curling hair and mustache, The seventh man, was not a foreigner, and was not on familiar terms with the others, although he had been invited by them to drink, and had treated, in return, He was a prepossessing looking young man, somewhere along in the twenties, with a grace- ful but athletic figure; his face was smoothly shaven, and good-natured of expression; the mouth was firm but pleasant, the cheeks ruddy with the glow of health, and the eyes brightand piercing. He was attired in an ordinary business suit an wore an overcoat and sealskin cap, He did not appear to take any interest in the conversation at the table, nor did he venture any opinion, regarding the subject, seeming to be quite content with puffing away at his cigar. The first speake wasa pronounced anarchist, whose speeches did much to inflame the minds of his more ignorant disciples, by whom he was regarded as a sort of king. His name was Doc Drew, and he owned the dingy little saloon wherein anarchists congre- gated to discuss the situation. It was a blustering, wintry day, and the na- ture of the weather, seemingly, was in keeping with their spirit of discontent. ** Well, if old Coleridge is dead, I suppose the devil will be) to pay, now!” Drew said. ‘‘ The mills will most likely shut down, and the poor who only now earn a pittance, will be thrown out of employment!” “The mills will not be closed,”.the Spanish- looking man declared, ‘* unless there is a strike!” ** How do you know?” **Oh! I was given to understand that, This is just the busiest season of the year, when the mills are running to their fullest capacity.” ‘*Then, why do you mention a strike?’ Drew demanded. ** Well, maybe there won’t be anything of the kind. It all depends on how old Coleridge has disposed of his property. If he has left it all to his wife, or at least left her a controlling inter- est, there will be no danger of a strike.” a Why not?” ** Because, there will be a change of manage- ment, and the present superintendent, Joe June, will be supplanted by another!” “Think so?” “IT know so! June is not popular with a good many of the employees, on account of his rigid discipline. It was he who suspended some of your sons, daughters and friends, a svort time ago, for smoking and rubbing snuff, in the mill. And there’s plenty who bear the present super- intendent no good will, you can depend upon it! _ “You are right there,” growled Simon Schmidt, one of the group. ‘ Dot man Jones he suspended mine girl Katrina shust. for chew- ing gum, during work hours, und I hear him n heard to say dot effry anarchist ought to e hanged, shust like poor Spies an’ der udders!” “*Oh! that’s him, you bet!” putin Drew, “I hate the fellow worse than the devil. He is dead against us, and sides with corporations and monopolies, because he feathers his: own nest at their expense, He don’t like me so very ‘* Hoc die anarchy, We | | Spaniard, much, neither, because I gave him a piece of my mind, the other night!” ** How was that, Doc?” demanded a chorus of voices, ** Because he had the audacity to accompany my Dolly home from the mill. You know my Dolly is the prettiest girl at the mills, and it ap- pears June has been paying attentions to her. as much as he blamed pleases, so long as he don’t blow anybody up.” . ‘“Not much you can’t—not in my saloon!” | Drew declared, whacking the table with his She is young and susceptible, and June isn’t bad | looking and commands a good salary; so it | seems Dolly has so far approved of hisadvances as to allow him to see her home! Itriled me, I | can tell you, and [ just told him tbat I was an anarchist, and wouldn’t have my daughter courted by a man in favor of monopoly!” **Good tor you!” exclaimed Isidor Plaquet, the **The fellow needs a thrust of the knife for his impudence. If he wants to favor | ** one word, please, capitalists, and grind down the poor man, let | him cast his net for capitalists’ daughters—not | ours!” ‘* Hurray?’ chimed in the others, ‘* But, is Joe June in favor of monopolies?” asked the young American, it being his first in- terruption of the confab. ‘*Of course he is,” cried Doc Drew, smiting the table with his fist, ‘‘ He dotes on monopolies and coercion. He would crush laboring men down to starvation; he would keep them down until they sunk to the lowest degree of degrada- tion; be would rise to fortune by keeping his subjects in a state of poverty and compulsory drudgery. ‘* Why, listen, sir! It is but three years ago that he entered old Coleridge’s employ as an or- dinary laborer. He then set to work and worked into the long hours of the night to lessen the cost of the management, at the expense of his fellow-laborers’ incomes. He invented several labor-saving machines, that detracted from the incomes of his fellow-workmen. He took more interest in doing that by which old Coleridge should profit the most, tian he did for the bumble class of which he was one. ‘* Of course Coleridge, miser that he was, ap- preciated all this, although, in a social point of view, he cared no more for Joe June than he | did for the veriest dog on the street. June was a slave to his ambition to become a capitalist; he saw that by becoming Coleridge’s servant and aide there was likely to be an opening in the future. “It came. So systematically did he, by his labor-cutting ideas, crush the workingman, and add to the money-bags of his employer, that Coleridge grew to regard him with highest favor and made him general superintendent of the mills. This, of course, placed the toilers at June’s mercy, and he ruled them with a tyranni- cal hand. ‘* But, he’d better go slow. The employees are organized, and June had better not try to crowd them any more or there’s no telling what will happen!” ‘** Do you belong to the anarchists?’ Plaquet asked of the young American. “No,” was the prompt reply. ‘‘I do not be- long to any labor organization!” ‘*Humph! then you’re not a self-protectionist? You do not believe in the workingman fighting for his rights?” ** Not in so far as committing murder is con- cerned!” the American replied. ‘‘We Ameri- cans don’t believe in that sort of cowardly and barbarous thing. It is only the foreign element, who can’t geé along in their own country, that come over here with the idea they can run and regulate matters pretty much as they please. By the time a few more of them are cared for by the sheriff, perhaps they’ll know enough to stay at home, or else conduct themselves as peaceable citizens |” ‘*So you argue that Spies, Parsons, Engel and Fisher, deserved to be bung, do you!” Plaquet cried, his black eyes fairly blazing. ‘* Yes!” the American frankly replied. ‘‘ The only pity I see about the matter is, that they didn’t hang Fielden and Schawb, too!” This wassaying a good deal, considering that | there was heavy odds against the American; but he spoke his mind as freely as though he bad a small army present, to back him up in his assertion. The glances that the anarchists exchanged were significantly ugly, and boded the stranger | ‘ 4 | admits he is a detective, and it stands to reason | he is here for some purpose no good to us,” no good. ‘* Say, look-ee here young feller, you’d better be vareful how you blow eff your bngle, in that way. There’s them in Chicago as don’t like that sort of talk, and youw’re'likely to get ‘into trouble!” ; “Ob! that’s all right. Ill run all the risks,” was the calm retort, ‘‘This is a free country, and it’s a man’s privilege to blow off his bugle | | if | “ Something ought to be found ga vee his person ] clinched fist. ‘‘So the best thing for you to do is to clear out, afore you get thrown out!” “Who'll throw me out?? the anti-anarchist . demanded, with imperturbable coolness. ‘** Twill!’ roared Drew springing to his feet, **Come, boys! lend us a hand! This feller’s a spy, and we'll make an example of him!” The others aro e with savage yells, but the American was already on bis feet. ‘““Hold up, there! he cried, authoritatively; I did not come here as a spy, nor to raise any trouble. to your views,asI am to mine, I was seut here to deliver an important message, but, as the yurty is not here, / ask you to permit me to stay bare until bis arrival, Then I will peaceably take my departure,” ** Who are you—what’s your name?” Drew inquired, suspiciously. ** My name is Richard Bristol,” wa the reply, “Tam a detective, better known as Deadwood Dick!” CHAPTER IL THE SECRET CIPHER, THE announcement declaring the name and profession of the American caused the an- archists to start, visibly. ** As Isaid,” Drew cried, turning to Plaquet, ‘*heis a spy—a detective! Death to bim!—curses upon him!” “Hold!” Plequet replied, as the saloon-keeper would have plunged forward in attack; “first, let's know about this message, and who it is for!’ “Dot vas right!” approved Schmidt. ‘Ve vants to know all apoud dot messages,” “Tf you want an explanation, you can have it!”’ Deadwood Dick replied. ‘* 1 was sent here to find a man named Dore Dante.” “Well, bave you found him?” Plaguet, leeringly. ““No, I have not,” Dick replied. not appear to be present.” = Ww hat do you want of Dore Dante?” de- manded Drew. ‘No such a fellow hangs out around here.” ‘‘T am assured that he does. Indeed, I am uite positive he does. So if you know the man, would like you to tell me where I can see bim.” ‘*What do you want of Dante?” demanded Piaquet, his curiosity evidently fully aroused. “That matters not,” Dick answered, “‘ except that I have business with himi—important busi- ness, too,” ‘* What business?” Plaquet persisted. ‘' Per- haps i f yow’re less close-mouthed you'll find out more!’ : ‘*T decline to state the nature of my business with him,” Dick returned, ‘‘ until I see him, per- sonally.” 3 “Well, you won’t find him here!” Drew growled, “so you git out if you don’t want your head broke!” ** Very well: Pll go if you say so, but a watch be kept upon this place, and the chances are that you will get ‘enesoors into trouble through trying te screen this man, Dante.” One of the anarchists, Jacob Steinmetz by name, had managed to gain a position in the rear of the detective, without attracting atten- tion, and he now leaped forward and struck Dick a terrible blow upon the side of the head with an empty beer bottle, The blow would have felled an ox, and Dick ra yp to the floor, unconscious. e was instantly seized and carried into a rear room, whose only furniture was a table and a couple of chairs. : i Here he was deposited upon the floor, while Plaquet proceeded to go through h ckets, ‘* Perhaps,” he suggested in conducting the search, ‘‘ we will find out what he wants of— of Dore Dante.” ee ; And his black eyes emitted a wicked gleam. “Yes, search him thoroughly,” directed Drew, who seemed to be the directing spirit. demanded **He does to give us an idea of what he is here for. He In the coat was found nothing but a handker- chief. In the vest a gold watch, some pencils,a recommend to chiefs of police from the Mayor ot San Francisco; in the trowsers a wallet, ple- thoric in size, The latter attracted the searchers’ attention. “ Ah! here [ think we have a clew!” Plaquet You’re welcome -. - a kage FAG?
Page 3
= ee se - 5 Balt Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. y if said, in delight. ‘‘ This man will not likely be traveling around without something to reveal his motive!” ‘+ You are right!” the others assented. The pocketbook was opened. A small amount of money was found, a diamond-ring, and two rings of gold. Next followed a United States detective’s credentials in the name of Richard Bristo), and two other documents of equal im- portance, One was a warrant, issued from Police Head- quarters, for the arrest of Dore Dante, at the instance of Cora Coleridge, for threatening the destructicn of her life, The other was a message in cipher, which read: «79-18-12 —~» 18-21-19-20 —4-9-5—19-21-19-16-5-3-20 ~19—4-1-14-20-5,”” Plaquet scanned this sign message with dark- ening countenance, and uttered a vicious impre- cation. ‘¢ What’s the matter?” inquired Drew. ‘Matter enough!” was tbe reply. ‘‘ Dante is either in trouble, or else drunk again. Look! This cipher message is from him!” “* Read it.” “ Here it is: ** Girl must die—Suspects! DANTE!’ Now, what do you think of that? Has Dante made a bull of the whole business? If so, we're in hot water, sure! The girl has issued a warrant for his arrest, and placed it in this de- tective’s hands. What does it signify ” “There is trouble afoot!” Drew growled, while the others looked startled. ‘‘ Can it be that we are suspected?” ““T don’tlike the looks of things. There’s a screw loose somewhere. Dante would not give us away unless he was drunk. This message was intended for us without doubt, but how came it in the possession of this detective?” ‘*The warrant shows that there is trouble ahead,” he growled. ‘‘In some way Cora has gained an inkling of the plot, and found out that Dante frequented this place. Consequently she has put this detective after Dante, and per- haps us. But how did this cipher me sage fall into her or the detective’s possession? Has Dante met with foul play, or has he turned traitor?” ** {ll give it up!” Plaquet responded, sullenly. ** But, why should he go back on us, when he is as much concerned as ourselves?” There was another brief silence during which the men regarded each other in a way that showed that they were ill-at-ease, ‘¢ Well, what’sito be done?’ asked Drew, at Jength. ‘*'This thing must be investigated, thoroughly, and that, too, at once, We are standing upon a magazine that is likely to ex- plode at any moment!” Plaquet was about to reply, when the front door of the saloon opened, and astylishly dressed young man stepped into the bar-room, advanced, and entered he rear room, through the wire screen door, He was not a bad-looking fellow, except that his faée was now as white, nearly, as thatjof a dead man. At sight of the insensible detective, he started as though stung by ‘an adder. * Curses!” he gasped. ‘' Where’d you get him?” j ‘¢ We took him in; and now, where’d he get these, if you please?” Plaquet demanded. “ This man is a detective, and was sent here to arrest you, on a warrant issued at the instance of Cora Coleridge, Now, we would like you to inform us how a message, evidently intended for us, fell into the hands of this sleuth, whose name is Bristol, and who also holds a warrant for your arrest! Have you been on another spree?” ‘* Nothing orf the sort. You will remember that you have not seen me for one week.” “ es ” ‘Well, during that time, I have been faith- fully performing my mission, I have not been out of the sick room, until to-day. You have heard the report of Coleridge's death?” Be rat Itis the talk of Chicago.” ** Well, it is false!” ** What?” “You heard me. Chester Coleridge is still alive. He had a sinking spell, early this morn- ing, and to all appearances died. But, he was revived, shortly after!”\ ~ ‘“* By whom?” ‘“* By that man!” and the new-comer pointed to the insensible detective, “* How was it done?” Drew queried, evidently incredulous. ‘* By infusing his own blood into the veins of the invalid. But, it amounts to naught. Cole- i at ctl tt ridge won’t go through the night. The doctor says so.” “ But how about this other business?” asked Plaquet, impatiently. “ Well, don’t get in a sweat, and you will find out!” Dore Daute replied, a trifle angrily. ‘* Everything can not be told ina breath. The day after my. installation as nurse for Chester | : | Coleridge, a telegram, previously sent, brought | bis daughter from the medical college at Toron- | to, where she was about finishing her course of | | will illustrate, were pards in crime. studies. She isa very shrewd young woman, and, after examining the old man, seemed sys- picious that all was not right, and looked upon | I was very attentive to my | me with aversion. charge, however, but the more attention I gave him, the more suspicious she seemed to grow of | Yesterday, I had one dose of the medicine | me, left in the bottle, and had occasion to tempor- arily leave the room, **On returning, I paused just outside, for the door was ajar, and peered through the’ crack. The door l had elcsed, on leaving the room; hence my hesitation and caution. What I saw was somewhat startling. Old man Coleridge was still asleep, asI had left him. But in the room was Cora and this detective, in the act of forcing a pet kitten to swallow the last dose of the medicine. Realizing what the danger would be to all of us, for Cora once saw me enter here, and knew I was rather outspoken in my views of anarchy, I leaped into the room and made an effort to grasp the bottle. Mad with rage, as I was, at the time, I endeavored to wrest the bot- tle from Cora, crying: ‘Tll murder youif you give that medicine to the cat!’ “The next I knew, I received a stunning blow and later found myself wandering in the street. How I got there, [donot know. As soon as I recovered my senses, I went back to the Cole- ridge house, rung the bell, and asked for Mrs. Coleridge. She received me, and I consigned to her the note you have in your possession, direct- ing her to see that you received it, as I did not dare come here until I had scouted about. How this detective got possession of the note is more than I can tell you!” ‘* How did you learn about this blood-infusion business?” demanded Plaquet. **From one of the servauts!” Then there was a brief silence. ‘** Trouble’s ahead!” repeated Drew, grimly. ** Yes, and plenty of it,” Dante assented. ‘* Within a day every band in the Coleridge fac- tory will either have to suffer a reduction of five per cent, or be thrown out of work!” There was a fierce ery from Drew at this. ‘* By whose order is this?’ he demanded, nt By the suggestion of Joe June!” was the re- ply. ** And the will—?’ gasped Plaquet leaning for- ward, eagerly. ‘**Gives everything to the girl, and gives June sole management of the estate under her direc- tion, in case of the old man’s déath. Plaquet, you're left, unless active means are taken?” CHAPTER III. A RETROSPECTION—WaAS IT A BOMB? LEAVING Drew’s place, we will conduct the reader to the residence of Chester Coleridge, in pn of the best residence sections of the West ide. The elder Coleridge, owner of the Coleridge Manufacturing Concern, was very wealthy and popular. is manufacturing plants were not connected as a body, but occupied different portions of the city, and only the boot and sboe branch of the concern was run under the proprietor’s name and it is principally with the affairs connected with this factory that we have to do.. Coleridge was by birth an Englishman, but his long residence this side of the water had thoroughly Americanized him. It was he who, with the venerable Marcus Stearnes, bought the low land where now is the heart of Chicago. The two were then clerks, at a salary of ten dollars a month and board. The advance in real estate, and the thorough busi- ness capacities of the two young men, eventu- ally made them millionaires; and it is at this stage we find Coleridge, now near to death from an ailment which puzzled the entire medical fraternity. Just what was the matter with him physicians were unable to decide, although council after council had been held. Some ergued one thing, and some another, and none appeared to com- prehend the case, or to correctly diagnose the disease. Mr. Coleridge had been married twice, and his first wife, the mother of his Only child, had died years before our story. Mrs, Coleridge, too, ~ feted had been married before she joined fates with Coleridge, and had a son—the Dore Dante of our’ story—for the first Mrs. Coleridge was of French- Italian extraction. The second Mrs. Coleridge was still living, and, also strange to say, a French-Spanish lady, also a widow previous to her second marriage, and the mother of Isidor Plaquet. Although Dere Dante and’ Isidor Plaquet were of different birthrights, they had always ” got along well togetber, anc, as future events Both’ were professedly in love with Cora, but more in love with her prospective fortune. Cora fancied neither: and while she was mod estly fond pf Joe June, her father’s superin- tendent, she used maidenly discretion in show- ing any preference. Aware of her admiration of the handsome superintendent, Plaquet and Dante, reckless spendthrifts, gamblers, and thoroughly bad at heart, had formed a most villainous conspiracy, into which they had drawn Drew, Schmidt, Steinmetz and several others. Leaving other developments to follow, we will visit the house of Mr. Coleridge. It was a mods ern dwelling, and faced on one of the prettiest streets on the west side. It was not particular- ly imposing in its exterior appearance, but the interior was nicely furnished, though not ex- travagantly. One might have taken it for the home of a moderately well-to-do. person, but hardly that of a man of Chester Coleridge’s actual riches. It was a couple of days after the date of our last chapter that found the sick-room of the in- valid the scene of more than ordinary interest. Mr. Coleridge, who had passed his sixtieth year, was bolstered up or pillows in bed, and was lis tening to his daughter, who sat near at hand, engaged in reading a letter. Cora Coleridge was a remarkably pretty young lady of nineteen, with a round, health tinted face, a mouth of tempting expression, amd soft hazel eyes, She was well-educated, having graduated at an Eastern college, and, as we have before men- tioned, had studied niedicine at Toronto, witha view of adopting the profession of a physician— baving a taste for it. Of course she had no pecuniary need of adopt- ing any profession; it was simply a matter, of her own choice and ambition. Mr. Coleridge was a large-built man, with a massive, kindly face, and iron-gray hair, and had always enjoyed good health until within the past three weeks, since when he had been con- fined to his bed by the strange malady. The letter that Cora was reading, and which had just been delivered by the postman, was one calculated to alarm the invalid, as well as arouse his thorough indignation. It ran as follows: ‘* Catcaco, December —, 188—. “CrHester CoLtermecr. Sir :—Contrarv ‘to the wishes of your employees, you still e ntinue to maintain in your employ thet tyrant, Joseph June, whom you know to not only be a merciless taskmas- ter, but a yillain of the first water. Several times your employees have respectfully requested you to remove this tyrant, whose principal delight is to in- flict his spite on those under him, but you have re- mained deaf to the rquests. Forbearance bas ceased to be a virtue, and if we cannot obtain re- dress\in any other way, we shall be compelled to resort to violence. Remove this man, Jce June, and put Dore Dante in his place, or Isidor Plaquet, and all will be well. R fuse, and we will make you trouble. If we cannot reach you in any other way, we can do it through your daughter, Remember, we mean Busty. ss.”’ The pallor in Chester Coleridge’s face deep- ened as he listened to the threatening missive, and he uttered a faint articulation of distress, for, although a trifle better than he had been a | few days before, when Cora had discharged Dore Dante, the sick man was very weak, The least over-excitement threatened to snap his thread of life in twain. It may be proper to add, heré, that Dore Dante, having had some hospital experience, had been called upon to nurse the invalid, prior to his daughter’s arrival home. When Cora arrived, her father continued to fail so rapidly that her suspicions were so aroused that all was not right, that she de- cided at once to get rid of Dora Dante as a nurse, She had never liked the man, and knew that his reputation was not of the best; yet she was loth to believe him villain enough to enter into any conspiracy against her father. Dante’s actions bowever, were so watchful and queer, that Cora’s suspicions increased hour- ly that her father was a victim of foul play, Sti , . the ee +4 soa rd int ACEE "i Phy 4 —_
Page 4
& and, at last, in alarm, she sent to Police Head- quarters for a detective, In answer to her request a detective was sent, and proved to be Doadircass Dick, Jr., the daring , young sleuth, who has been the central figure of so many startling adventures and hair-breadth escapes that his name has become a household word, all over the United States. It so happened that Dick was paying a call on Chicago’s chief of police when Miss Coleridge’s message arrived, and he prevailed on the chief to allow him to answer the summons, Consent being given, Dick had made his way to the Coleridge Mansion, post haste, where he was»met by Miss Cora, who communicated to | him der suspicion that her father was being de- liberately poisoned, and that Dore Dante was the malefactor. After listening to her story, Dick $0 arranged that Dante should be temporarily summoned from the sick-room, This was done, and together, Cora and Dick proceeded to make an investigation. Thero were several kinds of medicine, and among others a small vial containing about a teaspoonful of a greenish liquid. Tasting of this, the detective found it very bitter, and proposed that he take it to a chemist, for analysis. Cora objected to this as necessitating too much delay, and suggested another way of test- ing the matter. They had an old family cat, which was likely soon, to die, anyhow, and why not see how the medicine would work on it? Dick assented and they were about to put the matter to the test, when Dante rushed into the room, and threatened to murder them both, if they gave the medicine to the cat. For this threat, Deadwood Dick promptly knocked him down, and, at Cora’s request threw him out of the house, Later, she concluded to have Dante arrested, and went and swore out a warrant, which she placed in Dick’s hands to serve, advising him where he would most likely find him, viz.—at Doc Drew’s saloon, But the detective did not run across Dante that day, and the next day he came into posses- sion of the cipher in a singular manner, He was seated in the parlor at the Coleridge residence, waiting for Cora to come down from the sick room, when he espied a directed and stamped envelope lying on the floor. Picking it up he discovered that it was unseal- ed, and moreover, there was no letter on the in- side, . A glance at the superscription upon the en- velope caused Deadwood Dick to utter a whistle of surprise, The address was as follows: “Mr. DocKRILL Drew, ‘** No, — Lake street, City.” Here was a significant discovery, thought Dick. Who was there in the Uoleridge Mansion in correspondence with Doc Drew? Laying the envelope'on the table, Dick re- turned to his seat, and was meditating over his “find,” when a door opeued, and Mrs. Coleridge entered, She was a tall, middle-aged woman, large boned and angular, with a haughty cast of countenance, cold gray eyes, and a refrousse nose, Her dress was of rich material, but could not be said to fit her particularly, nor become her either, even though she wore fine jewelry. , | Seeing that Deadwood Dick was an occupant of the parlor, she bowed stiffly, and picking up the envelope from the table, withdrew. **So ho!” Dick mused. ‘I’ve found out who is tho correspondent of Doc Drew, the saloon- keeper, Humph! I wonder what this means? Vd like to know.” Cora soon came down-stairs, and Dick was informed that Mr, Coleridge was then stronger —one good sign at least, The old gentleman had not been informed of the conspiracy against his life, for fear that the shock would kill him, The cat, to which the greenish medicine had been given had died, so Cora announced, which, of course, confirmed all their suspicions, Dick soon took his leave, saying that he should have some definite news to communicate ere ng. As he left the house, a district messenger . boy ran up the steps, and rung the bell, his aroused the detective’s curiosity, and he Dngeres a few minutes in the neighborhood. © messenger’s summons was answered by Mrs. Coleridge, in person, who gave hiia a let- ter and some money. The boy then passed his watcher and proceeded in a direction that would take him to Lake street, ) ‘*He’s going to Drew’s,” Dick decided, ‘‘ and as Iam heading that way too, I'll follow him. By Jove! I’d like to get a-hold of that letter, for I mistrust the contents relate to the Coleridge conspiracy.” The opportunity came when he hardiy ex- pected it. As he was dogging the messenger along one of the smaller streets, the lad encountered another boy of about his own size and age, who was likewise dressed in a regulation uniform of the service, The boys stopped and eyed each other for a moment, exchanging some words which Dick was too far away to overhear. The next instant they had attacked each other, and fought like young tigers, and almost at once down dropped the letter-books of both boys, and out of one fluttered an envelope, Dick, now close at band, did not hesitate, but picking up the envelope, hurried off. When several blocks away he entered a restaurant, ordered a lunch, and, while eating, opened the envelope—the same he had picked up in the Coleridge parlor—and spread out before him the following communication, written in figures: ** 79-18-12 — 13-21-19-20 — 4-9-5 — 19-21-19-16-5-3- 20-19, 4-1-14-20-5,"’ Dick studied this message long, and with great eagerness. It was all *‘ Greek” to him, but he inwardly vowed to solve the riddle if it took him all day, So, ordering another cup of coffee, he pro- ceeded with his inquisition, f ‘There are twenty-six letters in the alphabet,” he reasoned, ‘‘ and perhaps these figures each represent a letter. Now. let me see: 7 would be G; 9 would be I; 18 would be R, and 12 would be L. Total: G-I-R-L—girl. By Jove, ’m right! Now te run out the rest!” Patiently he figured out the enigma, until he had produced the following result: ‘*Girl must die. Suspects. DANTE.” “There it is, all in a nutshell!” Dick mut- tered, triumphantly. ‘*‘The girl must die, Suspects!’ What girl? Why, Cora Coleridge, of course! She has detected Dante’s scheme. He has notified his confederates in this infamous plot. Consequently, this letter being for Doc rew, he must be one of the confederates of Dante, who, I judge, is in the house. Mrs. Coleridge sent this, so she must be in the con- spiracy! By blazes, I’ve struck a lead, and no time must be lost in developing it! I must be off for Doc Drew’s saloon, and familiarize my- self with it, and also with its Aabitues, in order to get at the true inwardness of this diabolical scheme.” And, having explained what it was necessary should be understood by the reader, and brought Deadwood forward to the time wheh we saw him, in our first chapter, in Drew’s saloon, we will ence more return to Chester Coleridge’s sick-chamber, where his daughter had just fin- ished reading the threatening letter of the an- archists, ‘*Oh, poor papa!” Cora said, feelingly, when she had finished the reading, ‘*isn’t it just too bad that such a letter should be sent to you, who have always been so good and indulgent to your employees?” “Ttisa pee of base ungratefulness and ras- cality on the part of a certain few,” the invalid groaned, ‘‘ and is not participated in by the bulk of my employees, It comes from a few avari- cious wretches who have no thrift themselves, and are envious of those who prosper. The at- tack is made because I am now sick, and unable to direct my own affairs,” ‘* Would to God you were well, and able to be out again!” Cora said, fervently, as the tears sprung into her eyes. ‘Oh! papa, you will get well, won’t you?” ‘* Alas! my poor child, I fear there is no hope, for even now the hand of death has its icy clutch upon me, I may linger ona few days—TIJ hope and pray that I may, in order that this trouble may be settled—but I cannot survive long. Do not grieve, my child, for lam prepared to die, and when I do, it will be with the knowledge that I have left you well-provided for, and with friends who will look after your welfare.” ‘“What friends? Cora asked, incredulously. **] have but you'asarelative, All others are but acquaintances.” ‘* Why, con't you count Joseph June a friend?” Cora flushed scarlet, ‘Well, y-e-s—after a fastion. He was in your employ, and I suppose he felt it was his duty to be courteous.” ** No! nol my child; Joe June’s feelings toward Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. honorable, upright man, as well as a thorough business man, and I am satisfied he is in love with you. Has he ever spoken to you on the subject of marriage?” ‘*No, not directly. I told him, once, that a friend of mine had just got married, and asked him if he ever expected to wed, to which he re- plied that he had never found any one who would have him. I suggested that I thought Dolly Drew would jump at the chance, as she was very fond of his society. To this be re- plied that be could not return the compliment, and there the matter dropped.’ I have heard since, however, that he is in l6ve with Dolly.” ‘* Nonsense!” retorted Mr, Coleridge. ‘* Dolly Drew indeed! A rumseller’s daughter! Joe June would stoop to that! Why didn’t you let him know that you were not averse to his: regard?” ; ‘Why papa! That would have been unmaid- enly?t ** Nonsense again!” snapped the invalid, with vim asif he had quite forgotten that he was so near the portals of death, ‘* Women are ‘0 1m- practical! .But never mind, child, Joe will be’ | here this afternoon, and to see you and Joe en- gaged, before I die would greatly please me and ease my mind, Do you hear, Corinne?” ; He only called her by her real Christian name when he was seriously in earnest! “Yes, papa!” Cora replied, ‘and I will t ; to treat Mr. June as graciously as modesty will More you cannot ask!” permit. ; Now, I am going to try ‘“That’s a good girl. and take a nap,” ** But, papa, how about the anarchist letter?” **Oh! don’t bother your bead about that. Tl | have Joseph attend to the matter, when he |; comes, Good! | reply, when the sick man turned his face to- So call me if I am not awake,” was the ward the wall while Cora stole down-stairs to the parlor, where to receive handsome Joe June, in case he called. In truth, she did haveastrong affection for the superintendent; but, as to giving him a hint to make him aware of the fact, it was, the least of bef intentions, for she would have con- sidered that an act of extreme immodesty, Wher Joe June cdiled, that afternoon, they had a very pleasant interview,fand he prolonged his call longér than was his custom. ; He was a stalwart, good-looking man of six- and-twenty, with a kindly face, brown eyes, brown hair and mustache, ; He was well educated, an interesting conver-- sationalist whom intelligent people easily learn to respect and admire. ‘ As Tene was about to go up-stairs, to see his: employer, a servant entered and handed Cora a nace about the size of a ‘‘100” cigar box, which was wrapped in‘yellow paper, ‘* A present for Miss Cora! essenger left: it!” said the servant, and then withdrew, ‘““T do wonder what it is, and who sent it?” she queried as she began to qwinfasten the string!” Joe June had grown very pale. He reached! forward and seized the package, ** You must not open it!” hecried. ‘‘ How do you know but it is sent. to destroy youf By my soul, J believe that package contains a bomb CHAPTER IV. DICK IN DURANCE—THE ANARCHIST’S DAUGHTER, WE left the detective in an insensible condi-- tion, in the back-room of Doc Drew’s saloon, surrounded by Drew, Isidor Plaquet, Dore Dante,,. and several others of Drew's confederates, From the effects of that terrible blow Dick re— mained insensible for a considerable time, and when consciousness at length did return it was to reveal the fact that he was lying upon his back in some dark place, that his hands and feet were not only bound, but that he was strapped down to the floor, and consequently unable to: gain even a sitting posture. J For a long time he Jay cogitating over the situation, hat should be do—what could he do? was the question. With no confederate in this wrestle with rogues, he could not Hope for help from any outside source, that was certain. If he was befriended it must be by some one who could be made aware of his condition, and who might, for a promise of reward, release him from that infernal: hole, there was, therefore, but one thing to do: to so shout for help as to bring somebody to interview. him—friend or foe: And shout'‘he did. ‘Help! help! help!” : Then, he listened, but there was no answer, his. voice evidently not. having penetrated be- \ you are more than simple courtesy. He is an ! yond the walls of his prison, As if’-
Page 5
- - air’ and readin ' “Help! help!” he shouted again. This time his appeal evidently was not in vain, for he soon heard a grating sound, as of a key turning in a rusty lock, and, a second later, a stream of light from a lamp, shone into the room. _ This lamp was carried by a plainly clad young woman, some seventeen or eighteen years of age—a petite little maiden, with a pretty face and sunny bair, She advanced hesitatingly and gazed down at the bound detective with startled curiosity, ‘* Who are you?” she questioned, ‘‘ and what in the world are you doing here?” “My name is Bristol,” Dick replied, ‘and I was made a prisoner by Doc Drew and his gang -after being assaulted and rendered insensible.” a you are the detective I heard papa speak of ‘‘No, f am_his adopted daughter. He took me from the Foundling Asylum when [ was an infant. I wish they'd left me there!” “Why, may I ask?” ‘* Because, then I should have escaped the life of drudgery in the factory to add to Drew’s gains. Iam simply his slave.” ‘** You work for Mr. Coleridge, eh?” “* Yes, in the shoe-factory.” Dick was silent for a moment. The girl did not seem to be inclined to release ‘him, and he presumed that such was not her in- tention. ' “Would you mind telling me where I am?’ he asked. * Certainly not,” was‘the reply. ‘‘ You're in the sub-cellar-under thesaloon. There is another ‘cellar still, under you.” ‘Yes? Well, what do these infernal anar- chists intend to do with me?” ‘ Dolly sarugged her pretty shoulders. ** Tf you had kept a quiet tongue in your head and not given your views of anarchy so point- edly, it is probable you would not be here now!” she answered, ‘‘ Those who believe in revolu- ‘tion are yet sore over the hanging of Spies, Parsons, Engel and Fischer, and are ready to protect themselves at any cost. As to what is to be done with you, I know no better than yourself.” : vi presume you are in sympathy with these men?” Dick observed, interrogatively, Dolly gave him a singular glance, the mean- ing of which he could not interpret. ‘ Well, not entirely,” she replied slowly, ‘‘ for I do not believe either in the overthrow of the. Government, nor in violence or murder to right | even a great wrong. I do know that the work- ing people, who have but small advantages of education, are kept down and treated as an in- ferior class, wholly subject to the rich and edu- cated; I do see that the rich are made so by the ‘incessant toil, small wages, great privation and debarment from the pleasures of life of the ‘workers; and I do realize, how in their forlorn condition, it is utterly impossible for the workers “to educate their children, who, like themselves, must therefore remain the slaves of toil—the mere serfs of the men of money.” The anarchist’s daughter here paused, and Deadwood Dick gazed at her in positive aston- ishment. d “ Your education don’t seem to have been en- tirely neglected,” he observed, admiringly. “Not entirely; but I am proud to say that -most of what I have learned has been by study oe the long hours of the night, after my hard day’s work at the factory. ‘Drew never knew of this, for he would have ‘beaten me severely if he had. His wish evi- _ dently is to keep me ignorant.” Ca, eee y so?” : ’ “Oh! I don’t know. To grub for him, I sup- “Then, why do you stay with him?” ' “Because he holds the secret of my life . which I hope some time to obtain. I am of Idonotknow. There is something held bask _ which, NS Uaseitee yl I will never know. Drew = even boasted of that, when he saw fit to ‘7 m M ing } “Poor child, I sincerely sympathize with you,” Dick said, feelinaly; and, moreover, ye ae detective, it is but natural I should ‘be deeply interested in what you have told me. ‘This man Drew certainly is a villain of the -deep-dyed order, and that he hopes to profit by eit . - f t ee ee ee nila a adwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. the possession of you is evident to me. Tell me ou know the names of your parents?” that is, I only suspect. mischievously peeking into Mrew’s trunk, I dis- covered a queer little ebony barrel, hooped with late was the inscription: ay and Lady Compton.’ nothing of this at the time; but, not long after this I found among a lot of old clothes, a baby- dress I had worn—at least I suppose so, for the Drews never had any children—when I was | adopted. On this dress was marke ink, the name ‘Corinne Coleridge I took a portion of the dress containing the name, and it has never left my possession since. I suppose I’m foolish, but, somehow, that bit of cloth, it seemed to me, would some me a souvenir of good luck!” ‘Quite sensible of you,” Dick said, thought- fully, and trying to suppress the look of sur- prise which he knew was upon bis face. out doubt you have an interestin which your foster-father is trying to If I had the opportunity, I’d make something out of what you have told me, your knowledge. And she looked incredulous. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve brought out developments that have restored That is my business—my calling. If I can get out of this hole, Iam sure T can help you.” _ She looked at bim inquiringly, then said turn- ing as if to go: “‘ you cannot possibly be of any help to me, and at present I am powerless to aid } I were so, inclined. this cellar is through the saloon, and it would be worth your life to try to run the gantlet,” * You are not inclined to help me?” “T did not say that. possible for you to escape now!” “Do I understand that there may be a future people to their rights. The only,exit from I said it would be im- “Possibly,” the girl replied, thoughtfully. pire she brightened®up. ‘* On conditions!” she | ‘* Conditions, eh? Well, let’s hear them!” ‘There are three of them!” ‘*No matter, if there are a dozen. Go ahead.” ‘* The one is, that, if you are given your lib- erty, you will quietly use your best efforts to find out all about my parents, and their ante- | ** Agreed to, without a demur!” Dick replied. **’You can depend upen it. as my honor. My word is as good The second—?” * Is that you will not seek to arrest Doc Drew until you have found out about. my parents. After that, I care naught for him!” ‘Granted again!” Dick agreed. ‘‘ Now, then, for the third.” : Dolly hesitated, and Dick could see that she e “Well,” she said finally, ‘there is a young man whom I think a great deal of—ay, I might as well be plain: I love him, I idolize him! I would die to win him, as I would have others die, that he might be mine. There is another, richer and better looking than I, who seeks to If I assist you to escape, I should want you to delicately intercede in my behalf, with the one [ love.” Dick was silent a moment, heard in Drew’s beerium, recurred to bim, ‘* Well, I don’t know,” he said, reflectively. *“Match-making ain’t_exactly in my line, and I don’t know whether I would. make much of a success or not, I thiuk, however, I might, The object of your affection is Mr. Joseph June. Am Something he had Dolly started, and looked nonplused, the color mounting to her cheeks. ** How did you know?” she cried. “Theard something to givé mea pointer, in the saloon, up-stairs,” The girl looked uneasy. “*f don’t thank ’em to be talkin fairs in a public bar-room)” she said, angrily. ‘Yet, they did su!” Dick replied, with a spice of triumph in his tone, ‘‘ arti, one fellow, in par- ticular, insinuated that he would like to punch June’s head for daring to see you home!” ’s eyes fairly snapped with indignation. © was he—what was this man like?” she, ‘* He looked to me like a Spaniard!” quet!” she exclaimed. I might as either he or‘Dore Dante, for 'y two who drive me nearly dis-. protestations of love, Bo ing to do with them, but orcing their attentions upon ve known it w they are the on tracted with t know I will have ani | will persist in f me]!” Shé walked abruptly to the door, When she reached it, she turned, and said: “JT can do nothing for i: now, and don’t know when I can. [ shall have to watch for my opportunity. I may be able to get you out. of here in a day, or it may be a week; it de=.! pends considerably whether Drew succeeds in’ selling out, or not!” ‘* In selling out, eh?” “Yes, He is anxious to sell out.” A sudden thought occurred to Dick, ‘Tf I were at liberty!” he said, ‘‘I’d buy him out!” Dolly laughed. “ You? Well, I guess not! Knowing you'to be a detective, and a foe to anarchy, he’d burn the place té the ground before he’d sell to you.” ‘* There’s where you guess amiss, I would be so disguised, that he would not know who he was selling to!” The girl reopened the door, ‘*One word, before you go!” Dick persisted. ‘*'You are a pretty girl, and a sensible one. You acknowledge you passionately love Joe June, and yet you remain with the Drews, who are Joe June’s worst enemy.” “* How his worst enemy?’ ‘Oh! then you do not know of the plot ef Drew, Plaquet, and the anarchist gang?” **T do not, nor do you!” ** You are mistaken. Drew and his confeder- ates are bitter in their dengnciation of June, and*they propose to drive him from the superia- tendency of the Coleridge shoe factory, even if they have to resort to j fener ate himup. This niuch I know to be a fact!” Dolly’s eyes glittered dangerously, at this, ‘Let them dare to offer to harm him, and T’ll see them all to the gallows!” She then left the room, and closed the door behind her. Dick was once more left in inky darkness, but his good spirits had been restored by Dolly’s visit. “T think I’ve planted a thorn in soil where it will bear fruit!” he mused. ‘‘ That girl is smart, and if anything is gained by setting me free, she'll do it!” And Dick was pretty near right. Dolly love’d Joe June, and stood ready to fight for him, if need be, with her life! CHAPTER V. A LIFE PARTNERSHIP. UNNECESSARY to say that Cora Coleridge was ‘ amazed at the startling suggestion of Joe June, and that she turned pale with apprehension, ; ‘*Oh, Mr. June!” she gasped; ‘* quick! put the thing down—throw it out of the window—do something with it. Mercy! mercy! If it shoud explode. Oh, do put it down!” Joe, who had been examining it carefully,’ looked up with a smile, “Oh, do not be alarmed!” he said. “My poet may be only a false alarm. Although I ave not removed the wrapping-paper, the package has all the appearances of being a ladies’ work-box, or maybe it is a dressing-case, Do you not know of some one who might have made you such a present?” ° ‘“No, no; I don’t know of a person in the world. Oh, do please put the awful thing down, Mr. June, if only for my sake!” He gazed at her for an instant, as though her words had given him a revelation; then he a the suspicious package on the floor, and said: ‘* For your sake, then, Miss Cora, I will com- ' ply with your request. For your sake I would ' do anything that was not criminal,” He took her hand in his, but she drew it | quickly. away, the color mounting to her tem-’ ples, “You misconstrue my meaning, Mr. June!” she stammered. “Oh, did I? Well, I believed you were Boi to give me a chance to say something that have wanted to say for a long time, but could not find the courage to say.” cane? ** Indeed?” “Yes, Miss Cora. Can you not guess what it is? *“T am not very good at guessing,” Cora re- plied, keeping her gave riveted upon the sup- posed infernal machine, : ‘* Well, then, I will tell you, plainly and cane ; didly, that I love you, and want you for my , wife. This love is not a new or sudden outburst of passion, but the honest offering of my heart in exchange for your hand, y affection for you was born the first time I ever received a smile from your bright eyes; but, being an humble toiler, { dared not dream that you could ~ | ever be anything tome. Nevertheless, my love
Page 6
‘ matter!’ grew constantly stronger, Patiently have I waited, without speaking, and striven to make myself worthy of you—in merit, if not in wealth. How I have succeeded, I leave you to judge. The time has arrived when [ cynsider it not in- apprupriate to speak, for everything points to the fact that you will soon be left withouta natural protector, and this, too, when there is menace toward your poor father’s estate in the very air, You have shown me the threatening letter sent your father; before you, you see what I doubt not was sent to destroy you. There is trouble ahead, and you want some strong, clear-headed protector to shield you from the storm that is bound to burst after your father’s death. Cora, will you accept my love, and let me become that protector?” ‘‘ What would Dolly Drew say if she knew of this?” was the evasive answer. Joe June laughed lightly. re Dolly Drew has not the least concern in this he declared. ‘‘But I hear you have been paying her very loverly attentions, “This is all nonsense, Miss Drew is a pleas- ant, good-hearted girl, but she is nothing more to me than the veriest stranger as far as love is concerned, I have but one love, and that be- longs to you, to accept and make me happy, or reject, and make me the most miserable of men!” ‘“Tf I were to reject you, you’d change your feelings concerning Dolly Drew?” ‘By no manner of means. I should simply wait upon your father and hand in my resigna- tion as his business manager, and board the next outgoing train for the Kast!” ‘You would do this?” “T would, assuredly.” a But, why? Does your position not suit ou? * 16 would not suit me to remain in your em- ploy, knowing that I loved you and yet was nothing to you but an employee.” Cora arose, and putting her arm about his neck, looked smiling down into his upturned face. ‘¢ Then borrow no trouble for the future,” she said, in a low, sweet voice, ‘‘ for there will be no need of a change of management in the Cole- ridge Mills. That is my answer!” Later, the lovers went up to Mr. Coleridge’s room, and found the old gent awake and ex- pectant. : When Joe and Cora entered, arm in arm, an pi ah bm of satisfaction dawned upon the in- valid’s face. **Hal what’s this?” he exclaimed, his voice stronger and his manner more vigorous than any time since his illness, ‘‘Did she capture you, Joe, my boy?” ** Well, yes, in one sense she did, and in an- other sense, I captured her, you see. I told her that there was a possibility the factory would lose its present superintendent soon, and with true woman business tact she saw there might be some trouble in getting a man as well identi- fied with the management as 1; so we talked the matter over and came to an amicable under- standing—that is to say, she made it an induce- ment for me to stay!” ** So you’re engaged, hey?” * That's about the state of affairs, sir.” “Then come hither, my children, and Jet the old man place his blessing upon your heads, God is wise, and doeth all things well. Bless ou, my children, and may your path through ife ever be a smooth and happyone. I am now content to die, knowing my little Corinne will be well protected and cared for. You will = her carefully, my boy, and be kind to er’ I will guard her as a priceless treas ure.” ** Yes, I know you will, my boy, 1 know you will, But you will have to be extra careful. There has been a terrible threat made against her. There are dark clouds hovering on the horizon, and when I am gone, I fear there will be dire trouble.” “Don’t worry about that, sir, I shall take prompt measures to quell any trouble that may arise, I shall have these conspirators attended to at once, and I don’t apprehend any serious trouble. As for my little wife, that-is-to-be, she shall be neither troubled by business. matters nor by enemies, so long as 1 live to guard-her.” . That night, just as the sun dipped into the gold-illumined horizon, Chester Coleridge passed peacefully away into that sleep from which none awaketh here below, ee _——_ i “ . { a ‘i \ \ Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. CHAPTER VI. DICK’S NEW CONFEDERATE. AFTER the departure of Dolly, Dick, of course, had nothing to do but await developments, His position was painful, and his back ached terribly. This, together with a craving appe- tite, made him decidedly uncomfortable. The only consolation he could get was in the be- lief that Dolly Drew would eventually come to his rescue. Eventually! **Lugubrious word,” Dick muttered. ** Christmas will come eventually, and so will the Fourth of July, but what are these festive ocva- sions to a man tied on his back and hungry as a bear? The man who invented the word ought be in my position for a day or two, and enjoy his invention.” While he lay deliberating, his mind recurred to what Dolly bad said concerning her past. “The girl has a history, that’s evident, and no doubt she is the offspring of a wealthy En- glish family, if she is, as she surmises, the daughter of Sir Jay and Lady Compton. The very fact that the dress she wore when taken from the foundlings’ asylum, bore the name Corinne Coleridge Compton seems to prove her identity. “Sir Jay and Lady Compton came to this country, were taken sick, and died. If they left an infant, naturally it was placed in a home. Doc Drew must have known the Com tons—who can tell? He may have been their servant, and adopted the infant for a specula- tive purpose, and has reared her to womanhood for a purpose. Very kind of you Mr. Drew. But, what object had you in view? One that was mercenary, I'll swear; and, moreover, I mean to know what it is, if I ever get out of this den. ‘‘T don’t think it will be an excessively hard job, either, Compton is a popular name among the English. Then, here is this middle name— Coleridge! Not by any means is that a com- mon name. Itis quite a singular coincidence that I should have undertaken a detective work for a lady named Corinne Coleridge, and, while in pursuit of my business, should run across a maiden whose real name appears to be Corinne Coleridge Compton. By Jove! if I ever get out of this fix, 1 will investigate the matter. ‘* Dolly is a nice-looking girl, but I’m afraid she will get left in her wish to get this Joe June for a husband, providing Josepb has a liking for Miss Coleridge, and the Coleridge ducats!” The hours dragged wearily by, and to the im- prisoned detective every minute seemed an hour, | He grew excited, nervous, savage. But, he had not much longer to wait. Just when he was beginning to get thoroughly dis- heartened he heard the key softly turn in the lock of the door, and, as it opened, Dolly Drew once more rein into the room, lamp in hand. She deposited the latter on the stool, and came clese to Dick and looked down at him, search- ingly. Evidently she had not decided what to sa y. “T reckon you're tired of lying here™ she finally ‘observed. “You can bet I am!” Dick repliel. ‘‘ Have you come to set me free?” “~*That depends. Did you promise to comply with the three conditions I named?” ** Certainly, I did.” *T believe you said, if you got your liberty you would buy out the saloon!” ‘Yes, if the price was not too high!” ‘What would be your object in buying out the saloon?” “Oh! I should doubtless establish a friend in the business. Then, too, the Jess ‘saloons these anarchists have the better they’re off!” ‘‘T agree with you there, and I’ve found ‘out you were not lving to me!” ‘* Indeed? How do you mean?” ‘* You told me Drew and the gang meant mis- chief to Joe June!” “Well?” . ‘* You are right. .They’re planning to over- throw him from thé superintendency of the fac- tory. I played eavesdropper, and found that much out! You see, Mr. Coleridge died to- night, and after he’s buried there’s going to be trouble.” “* Mr, Coleridge died to-night?” echoed Dick. ‘Why, what night is this?” * Priday night!” ‘“‘T heard thai’ he died Wednesday—the day I was assaulted in the saloon!” ‘Oh! that was a false report.” ‘*Then [’ve been here forty-eight hours?” * About that. Now, Mr. Bristol, I am ready to work with you, for any one that means ill to Joe June, he orshe ismy enemy. I’m in dead earnest now, and {’m goin’ to frustrate Drew’s plans ali Ican, Soif you will promise to help 38 and to protect Joe from danger, I'll set you ree.” ‘* J promise with all my heart!” Dick declared, heartily. “Very well. I will take you at your word, but woe be to you if you fail to keep it!” Dolly then drew a knife from her pocket, and severed the bonds. The next instant he was upon his feet, straightening his cramped limbs, and soon stood erect, as handsome and com~- manding as ever. eae his hand to his fair rescuer, he said: ‘Miss Compton, allow’ me to extend to you my sincere thanks for this act, and rest assured that not only will I do all I can to further your desires, but I will make a thorough investiga- tion of your antecedents.” ‘‘Then, you think you can learn at of myself and parents?” she asked, her hand still in his clasp. “ T do certainly.” ‘Do you really think that Sir Jay and Lady Compton were my parents?” “That is my impression, How do you know the baby dress was worn by you, when Drew adopted you?” ‘““His wife once pulled it out.of the rag-bag: and showed it to me and told me so.” * Do you think you could get possession of the barrel-shaped casket?” ““T don’t know. Ican try.” ** Very well. Doso, I will endeavor to buy the saloon to-morrow. If I succeed, you will have plenty of chance to communicate with me! “T have an idea he will sell out cheap!” the girl said. “He is sort of a ruling politician among the anarchists—an authority, as it were, and he scoops ina good many dollars in that *wa 2 “Tf T catcb him at any criminal mischief, PI. scoop him in!” The girl made no reply, but turned and picked up the lamp. “Come!” she said, ‘* you'd better escape while there is a chance.” “ Ali right. I’m ready. Lead on!” They left the sub-cellar, and Dolly locked the door behind them, Then, they ascended a steep flight of stairs to the next cellar, and then an- other flight, which brought them into the sa- loon, which Dick found to be dark and deserted, and from the room Dolly ushered him into the street. *¢ Look out trap,” she said, warningly. ** Good-night.” The door closed, and Dick hurried away through the early gloaming of the approaching morning. ‘““Free once more!” be breathed; ‘‘ and, now, if I don’t make it hot for these scoundrels Ill never attempt anctber job of detective work again. First of all I must see my employer, Miss Cora, and ascertain just what has happened since my incarceration.” ou don’t get into another such & “* Good-night.” CHAPTER VII. A COUNCIL OF WAR, OF course it was outof the question for Dick to think of visiting the home of the Coleridges until a seasonable hour, so he took himself to» his hotel, only pausing by the way long enough to partially satisfy his hunger and thirst at an all-night restaurant. Reaching his hotel he went to his room, took a bath, and brushed himself up. Lae) This accomplished, it was broad daylight, so- he went down tothe reading-room, procured a bg, vcr paper, and glanced at it. t contained only one item of news that par- ticularly interested him, and this was the notice- of Chester Coleridge’s death. c It was but a brief paragraph, stating that the esteemed citizen had died the evening of the previous day, and that the funeral would take place to-morrow (Sunday), at bis late residence, ‘¢T dou't know whether I had better call upon Miss Cora-or not, until after the funeral?” Dick thought. ‘I ought to see her at once, it’s true, but Vl bunt up Mr. J oseph June first, and then decide whatis best to do.” After breakfast he made his way to the fac-- tory of which June was superintendent, There he learned that work had been suspend-- ed until after the funeral of the late proprietor. An employee of the establishment, however,, — directed the detective to June’s ibad yo gorse but the superintendent was not found there, e) ——— ee ee ee
Page 7
“ee * the arent aoa that he ‘* might be found at Misther Coleridge’s, phat was dead.” So to the Coleridge residence the detective pro- ceeded, not without misgivings, however, as to whether he would be favorably received or not. By this time it was well on toward noon. On ringing the door-bell, a servant answered his summons, and recognizing him as a previous visitor, admitted him, and requested him to take a) seat in the parlor, while she went for Miss Cora, for whom Dick at once inquired. Entering the parlor, Dick found himself in the presence of Mrs, Coleridge, who was seated by a window. Judging from appearances, Dick concluded that she was not grief-stricken over the recent demise of her husband, She bowed rather stiffly, and bade Dick be seated. : “Whom did you wish to see?” she inquired. ‘* Miss Coleridge,” Dick replied. *‘ Miss Coleridge is not to be seen,” was the answer. ‘‘She is so overcome by her father’s death that t have ordered her to keep to her room. until the funeral takes place.” “Ordered her?” repeated Dick. ‘I should suppose Miss Coleridge was quite old enough to control her own actions, It is important that I should see her,” “You cannot see her!” the widow declared, her cold face flushing with anger. ‘‘She is too ill to see any one. I do not know who you are, or what is your mission, but your assurance is certainly amazing. You will confer a favor by taking your departure.” ‘Oh, I am in no particular hurry!” Dick re- plied, coolly. ‘‘ Perhaps Miss Coleridge will sufficiently recover from her indisposition, in a few minutes, to receive me,” Madam Coleridge glared at him, in actual astonishment; then, a tigerish gleam entered her eyes. ‘“Good Heaven!” she gasped. ‘‘ Am I to be wantonly insulted in my own house? We will see! She arose to leave the room, but was inter- rupted by the entrance of Cora, who, although her eyes were red with weeping, looked any- thing but really ill. The moment she saw the detective, she ad- vanced and extended her hand. “Oh! is it you, Mr. Bristol? I have been won- dering so much what had become of you,” she said. ‘I suppose you have heard of poor papa’s death?” ‘¢ Yes, and with deep regret. [ saw the an- nouncement of his death, for the first, this morn- ing.” t Cora!” interposed Mrs, Coleridge, ‘ who is this man?” N **Madam, he is a friend of mine,” Cora re- | plied, her eyes flashing. “*Tndeed?” and the madam sneered. ‘ Your choice of friends, I should say, is very vulgar, Moreover, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, receiving strangers when your father les dead in the house!” “Mrs. Coleridge!” retorted Cora, “you will lease understand that J am mistress of this 10use, and am at liberty to receive whoever I like, without your approval or disapproval!” ** You had best not be too sure that you are mistress of this house!” the madam said, sneer- ingly, as she made her exit from the room, her face fairly livid with passion. “J am sorry that [ called,” Dick said, when she was gone, “for I see I havecaused a rupture between yourself and Mrs, Coleriage !” “Oh, that’s nothing,” Cora replied. ‘ You did perfectly right in calling, for 1 was anxious lest some harm had befallen you. As for my step-mother, it’s no secret that she cordially hates me, and I can’t say there is any love lost on my part, either. he married my poor father, simply in hopes of inheriting his fortune, but, I guess she has abont given up hope of that, now, for the marriage was not a happy one, and I’ve heard papa say that her mercenary purpose would not be attained.” “I suppose, then, the bulk wealth has been left to you?” **T presume so, although, I, of course, cannot say for certain, never having seen my father’s last will.” He left a will, then?” es, It was drawn up and signed, a few days ago—just before I sent to Police Head- larters for a detective!” Who drew up the will?” My father’s lawyer, John Smith.” 3 ho were the witnesses?” My half-brother, Isidore Plaquet, and an- of your father’s ae “ee _ other poung man who works in Mr. Smith’s office. Deadwood Dick,’ Jr. in C ees / “Humph! How comes it Plaquet was a wit- ness?” ‘t He is studying law under Mr. Smith, and so the latter brought the two young men as wit- nesses, in case their services might be needed.” ‘* Who has the will now?” ** The lawyer.” “So you think Mrs, Coleridge has given up all hope of succeeding to the fortune.” ** Yes. she would not get more than the legal dower.” “‘TIndeed? Well, you are doomed to be com- pletely deceived in the madam, Miss Cora. Not only does she intend to bave her legal dower, but she expects to have the whole fortune, if she can get it. She, Dore Dante, Plaquet and Doc Drew have entered into a plot to wrest the whole inheritance from you, and if we don’t look sharp they will succeed, too!” Cora grew pale with apprehension. ‘*Good heavens!” she gasped. ‘‘ Can this be true? Please explain what you mean!” Dick did explain. He went on and related his adventures since he bad seen her last, together with all be had learned that had a bearing on the case, He had just finished when Joe June entered the room and was presented to the detective by Cora, as her affianced, At her request Dick repeated his experieace, to which June listened with keenest interest. ‘*By Jove! This matter must be sifted to the bottom, detective, and the guilty ones punished, regardless of person,” June declared. ‘‘ We're glad to have as good a man as you on the case. There’s a plot of the kind you mention, beyond adoubt, Read this.” He then gave Dick the threatening letter which had been sent to Mr. Coleridge on the day Me his death, This Dick perused with darkening row, “T am not particularly surprised,” be said, “‘ for it is scarcely more than I expected. This clique of villains, of which Mrs. Coleridge, Dante and Plaquet are the ruling spirits mean to have the Uoleridge fortune, no matter what the cost, and Drew and a few of his cronies are associated in the conspiracy, stimulated no doubt by prom- ises of a fat recompense for such services as they may be called upon to perform.” “That’s it, exactly. And now, under such circumstances, what’s to be done, detective? We look to you for advice, Shall we call the police into the matter?” ‘* By no means. That would make things all the worse—all the more dangerous, for you know the intense hatred of tbe anarchists for the police. No, what is done, must be done craftily and with keenest judgment. One thing is certain: Miss Cora must be guarded con- stantly. And not only that, but she must re- main in the house, and no one admitted to see her except ourselves. No one else must be ad- mitted to her presence, except her maid, who must be posted, and act as her constant attend- ant, Even Mrs. Coleridge must not be allowed to see her alone, or to enter her room.” ‘* How long must this state of affairs exist?” * That depends on circumstances. Beforeany positive move can be made, it will be necessary for me to collectsuch positive and overwhelming roof that a wholesale arrest can be made. This hope to do by affiliating with the conspirators.” Dick was then shown the mysterious package that Cora had received the previous day, and which still lay upon the table, undisturbed. ‘¢ We suspect that itis an infernal machine,” Joe June remarked, ‘‘and don’t know what to do with it.” “ Perhaps you are right,” Dick replied. ‘‘ The best thing to do with it is to put it away where no one can get at it, at present. If it is a bomb, it is no doubt so arranged that any attenipt to open it would bring about an explosion.” “You are right. But wouldn’t it be a good idea to turn it over to the police? Perhaps they could decide upon some method of finding out whether it is a dangerous thing or not.” ‘No objection to that, I will carry it to the chief of police myself, and he can take such_ac- tion as he sees fit in the matter. And now, Miss Cora, you had better have a suite of rooms fixed up for your personal occupancy, and keep strict- ly to them for the present, for there’s no over- estimating your peril, You have a waiting maid, I presume?” ‘'Yé6s, sir.” ‘**Can you trust her, implicitly?” ‘Indeed Ican! Annie and I are like sisters to one another.” “Very well. Have her personally superintend the preparation of your mcals, and touch nothing that can possibly resolve itself into means of de- struction.” " I have given her to understand that | hicago. ee « But, sir, I must attend poor papa’s funeral!” “Let the services take place here, with only the immediate household present, 1 must insist that you do not leave the ouse,” “ But, I don’t see what danger there would be of my going to the grave, as long as I went in a close conveyance,” Cora persisted, her eyes fill- ing with tears. é “There might be no danger, and again there might be. On the whole, it’s best to be on the safe side. I suppose, Mr. June, that no notice has been sent the coroner of Mr. Coleridge’s death.” “No, The doctor obviated the necessity of an inquest, by issuing a certificate of death, giv- ing the cause as peritonitis. This was at Miss Cora’s request, as she would not hear toa post- mortem examination. . “Perhaps it is just as well,” Dick said, “‘ as it saves a great deal of gossip, Which is not specially desirable, just now. For extra precaution, Miss Cora, I will send a trusty detective from the Central Office, to whom you are to give the lib- erty of the house. He will not only be a pro- tection to you, when Mr. June is not here, but will keep an observing eye on ie step-mother and see that nothing goes crooked.” ‘A good idea,” June said, while Cora nodded her assent, ‘I shall feel much safer, then, you see!” she added, ‘* for, somehow, since I have found out what a wicked creature Mrs, Cole- ridge is, I should not feel safe in reme ining alone in the house, with her!” ‘You need have no fears, you shameless minx |” cried Mrs. Coleridge, who, at thismoment, burst into the room. attired for the street. ‘* Since you have gathered around you such a circle of questionable men, I do not care toendanger my good name by remaining longer under this roof. Until my poor husband’sestate issettled up, and I get my rights, Ishalltake up my quarters at the Palmer House, and you can have possession here. “T shall have Chester’s will probated at once, however, and then you will have to step down and out! Perhaps, then when you are turned upon the street, a pauper, your gentle- man acquaintances will not be nearly, so attentive!” She turned, then, and swept toward the door, but Dick headed her off. “ Woman!” he said sternly—‘ for you are no lady to heap vile insults upon this innocent orphan—I will yet make you apologize to her, op bended knee. Remember! Now, go!” The madam laughed, viciously, as she jeft the room, while the maiden fell unconscious in the strong arms of Joe June. CHAPTER VIII. DICK AS A DUTCHMAN, DEADWOOD DIcK remained at the Coleridge residence, until Cora was restored to conscious- ness; then he took bis departure, carrying with him the mysterious pnnor - ahaa was suspected of being an infernal machine. This he took direct to the chief of police, and made known to that official the main circum- stances concerning its reception, but gave no names. 43; $3 The chief promised to have an examination of the package made, to ascertain if there were anv grounds for the suspicion: then Dick left. “ Now, then, for a disguise, and the saloon,” he decided. ‘‘I must get at the inside working of this clique of conspirators.” He had plenty of disguises in his trunk at the hotel, and thither he at once repaired. He well knew that in all probability his escape from the cellar would be discovered by the confederates ere long, if it had not already been ascertained, and he knew, also, that he would bardly be safe to walk the streets without being disguised, as spies would certainly be sent out in search of him. i So. he proceeded to make up in the shape of @ beer-fat Teuton. cos To touch up his face until it had a real large beer-cast, and add a yellowish mustache and wig of like hue, occupied but a few minutes, Then donning a big suit, he padded himself out ubtil he was very broac shouldered, and pozsessed, apparently, a Gambrinus s'omacb. ; is disguise was so complete, that bis most intimate acquaintances would not have known him. pe 3 himself that there was nothin lacking in his make-up, he left the hotel, an started for Doc Drew’s resort. ‘ When he reached the saloon, he saw the sign “For Sale” tacked upon the door. : ’ Entering, he approached the bar, behind which Drew presided, in person. “ Din lager!” Dick ordered, and it was prompt- ly served in a stone mug. Temi
Page 8
oan, ~~ Paying for it, amd in doing so exposing. to view a large roll of bills, he proceeded leisurely to quaff the beverage, while he gazed about the premisess. ; Only two men were in the room, besides him and Drew, and they were Schmidt and Stein- metz. * You vauts to sell oud dis blace?” Dick leis- | urely inquired, as be sipped his beer. ** Yes, I do!” Drew replied, promptly. ‘‘ Do ou know of any one who wants to buy a good | usiness?” * Vel, no, oxcept it vas myself. Vy for you or to sell oud? You do not much pizness, 8 4 >] ** I do a good business, but, this is a slack day. The most of my trade, you know, is in the eve- ning. I make as much as thirty dollars a day out of this place!” ** Vy for you vants to sell, den?” ‘‘For good reasons. I have made enough money to keep me; then, tuo, my daughter is soon to be married, and move to England, and it is my intention to go with her.” **Vel, dot is right. Alvays stick mit your daughter by, und you vas all right. I doder same. Vot you vant vor der blace? I pay not | much, for | vas a sdranger in der neighborhood, un 1 1 haf to build oop my own cusdomers, you ‘Well, that will not take long, if you know which side your bread is buttered on. You understand, this is a sort of hang-out for the laboring people who are in favor of revolution. Lam an anarchist, and have all my friends come | to seeme, How are you fixed?” ‘‘How vas I fixed? By Sherusalem, I vas yoost so pigger an anarchist as you vas, unt I am gladt vot I met you, Led’s haf somethings to take.” ‘All right. You will drink with me, this | time. The gentlemen, yonder, are a couple of | friends of mine, Mr. Schmidt, and Mr. Stein- metz, Hey, gents, join us.” The two Germans were in no wise loth to ac- cept such an invitation, and with alacrity ar- ranged themselves alongside the bar. ‘* Mister*Schmidt and Mister Steinmetz, this is a good loyal friend of mine—and perhaps, your future caterer. His name is—?” ** Gotleib Van DerVeer—for short Got!” cor- rected Dick, The three men in a low voice conferred to- gether. ‘*Vel, mine poys, vot you get through mit yourselves?” Dick finally demanded. ‘* You are apn anarchist?” Steinmetz asserted more positively than interrogatively. “t Yah 1” ‘* You were sent here to see us?” “Not in barticular. I vas passing, ven I see me dot der saloon vas for sale, und I shust step- ped in to find out vot vas der brice.” ‘““Very good. Weare glad to meet you!” Steinmetz annonnced, ‘*if, as you say, you are in sympathy with anarchy, andif you buy out Drew, we'll pledge you our support.” ‘That vas goot!” Dick declared. ‘‘ Drink oop und ve will haf one on der new proprietor!” said Dick. ‘*But holt on! I count me mine chickens, before dey be hatched mit dot egg out. How much you vil dake for dis blace, my goot friend, Misder Drew?” Drew scratched his head, and reflected. He did not want to make the price so great that there would be any danger of scaring his customer off; while, on the other hand, he did not want to name a price too low, so that Van Der Veer would question or doubt the value. ‘Well, Pll tell you!” he said, finally. ‘In selling out the saloon, I only sell you the saloon itself. Allof the up-stairs is rented, except a big front room, where our anarchist lodge holds its regular and all secret meetings, I also re- serve the room in the rear of the saloon, for my own privacy. The saloon, as it stands, you can have for two hundred dollars, and if you don’t want to go to the expense of having the licenses transferred, you can still let the saloon run in my name, and no one will be the wiser for it.”’ ** All righd. I get me von bartender, and take possession to-night, Here is der money.” And taking the roll of bills from his pocket, Dick counted out the required sum, and handed it to Drew. Thereupon Dick took Drew’s place behind the bar, The stock of iiquors and lager was small, but, that did not matter. M He remained at the saloon during the rest of the day, in the capacity of bartender, and at frequent intervals treated Drew and his brother anarchists, until they finally began to allow that Van Der Veer was a first class fellow. “You ought to join our lodge, Van Der Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Chicago. | Veer,” Drew suggested. ‘It only costs a small sum, and will be the means of making you solid | with our cause, and you will also increase your bar receipts.” ‘* How many beoples you hab in dis lodge?” “Tn the main lodge, some forty odd. In the | secret lodge, where particular business is trans- acted, there are but six members, at present. It costs ten dollars to join the main lodge, and fifty to join the secret lodge. All members of the secret lodge will be presented with a badge, which will entitle them to the hospitality of any anarchist of note, throughout the country.” “* All righd!” replied Dick. ‘* You can yoost calculade on me for feefty tollars vorth. I go der whole hog or none.” ‘*Very well. We hold a secret session, to- | night at midnight, and yeu can then join.” | Dick assented to this proposition, and ‘‘ set ’em up,” again. Toward night he succeeded in hiring a sturdy | young German as bartender, after which he left the saloon, ostensibly to order a new stock of liquors, but, in reality, to take a stroll, while he deliberated over what his course of action | should be. He was eager to attend the secret session of | the anarcbists, that night, but would it be best? Would it not be too dangerous? Would they not put him through some sort of initiation, and thefeby discover that he was dis- guised? | CHAPTER IX. DICK SECURES AN ASSISTANT. WHILE thus wandering along in deep medi- tation, Dick felt a touch on his arm, and look- ing around, found Dolly Drew at his side. “Ha! did you penetrate my disguise?” he asked in surprise, ; ‘‘Tsaw you come from the saloon,” she re- plied, with an odd little laugh. ‘* You do look / awful funny in that rig. Did yeu buy the saloon?” sc Yes. ” ** Ror how much?” ‘* Two hundred.” ‘* Then you’re two hundred out of pocket.” * How do you make that out?’ ‘* Because I have discovered, since I met you last, that the property is mortgaged, saloon, fixtures and everything, and the mortgage is long overdue. So, Drew has got your two hun- dred dollars, and eventually you will have to get out, or else pay up the mortgage.” ‘* How much is the amount of the mortgage?” ‘¢ Five hundred dollars.” ** Who holds it?” ‘“‘ Chester Coleridge did hold it. I suppose it will now fall into the possession of Cora Cole- ridge. ‘Oh! then it will be all right. She would not press it against me, as I am in her emplcy, and we are on good terms.” “Oh! you’re on good terms, eh? Seems to me that the pert miss is on good terms with all young men!” ‘““Well, [can’t say as to that. She is pretty, unconventional and entertaining, and if, as you say, she is popular with the young men, perhaps that is the secret of her popularity.” ‘‘Humph! There are are plenty of other girls as good-looking and vibe fbb te as Cora Coleridge!” Dolly said, almos Phesiy bore 6 and ja atone which caused Dick to gaze at he juiringly. ‘** Don’t you think I am as good-looking as she is?” she added. ‘‘ Well, really, I would rather you had not put such a question, for it is an embarrassing one,” Dick replied candidly. ‘t However, since you | evidently expect an answer, I will say, that, as far as my judgment of feminine beauty goes, you are quite as pretty as Miss Coleridge.” “Thank you!” Dolly returned; then abruptly changed the subject: “Did you see Joe June?” “Yea,” ‘* What do you think of him” ‘* Why, he seems to be a nice sort of fellow.” ‘Did you mention me to him?” ‘No, I had no opportunity, as I met him in the presence of another.” | “Cora Coleridge? she asked quickly. ‘Yes, He was at the Coleridge house, assist- ing in the arrangements for the funeral.” “A task by no means unpleasant to him, I presume,” Dolly replied, sarcastically. ‘* But, what matters it? Allmen are fickle, are they not, Mr. Bristol?” ‘Oh! no, I guess not,” Dick replied. ‘‘ There are good and bad sheep in every flock, you know.” “Probably. Well, maybe I’ve been a fool r in- for liking Joe June when he aspired to win a girl of higher position than I; but, one thing is as certain as that the sun will rise to-mor- row! . “ What is that?” ‘‘Joe June shall never marry Cora Cole- ridge!” And her bosom heaved with emo- tion, During this conversation, she had continued to walk along by Dick’s side. ‘‘Tam sorry tohear you say that, Miss Dol- ly,” he ventured to say. It could not benefit you to do injury to either June, or Miss Cole- ridge, you know. I will be plain with you. I believe that a match is already made between them, and it would be both futile and impru- dent on your part, to try and break it, If June loves Miss Coleridge, he certainly does not love °. you, and you are, as it were, wasting your affection ona stone. If there is nothing im par- ticular between him and Miss Coleridge, then, by patience and the exercise of womanly judg- ment, you may by biding your time, win him, Certain it is, that your cause would not be benefited by an act of indiscretion.” She had listened to him, attentively, the color deepening in her cheeks, “You are right!” she said, when be ceased speaking. ‘I have been a fool to cherish ani- mosity toward Cora Coleridge. I will watch and wait, and bide my time, as you say. If I were to injure her, it would only injure me in his estimation.” “You are right. You can do far better, by assisting me to shield him from the danger that menaces him, and thereby gain a firmer hold op his ¢ 00d opinion of you.” “True! true!” she replied, thoughtfully. “Your counsel is good, and I am deeply grateful to you, for it, Perhaps I may outgrow my in- fatuation for Joe June, if I find he does not love me as a true lover should.” “Exactly. Now to change the subject: How did you come to find out about this mort- gage?” ‘*T overheard Drew and Steinmetz talking the matter over.” Dick then related the circumstances of his purchase of the saloon, including the invitation that had been éxtended to him to join the an- archists’ secret lodge. ‘* You'd better not join them,” Dolly warned, ‘‘unless you want to get into trouble. You would have to be initiated, and they would surely discover your identity, and then your chances would be'slim, I can tell you.” ‘*You think they have not discovered my es- cape from the cellar, then?” **On the contrary, they have discovered your escape, and Iam accussed of assisting you to escape. That’s why you see me on the street!” ‘Ah! is that so? You don’t mean to tell me that Drew has turned you out of doors!” ‘‘No! He didn’t get the chance. When he accused me, we had some sharp words, and he struck me. Then I told bim be could consider me his mortal enemy in the future, and left the place, I have no money or place to go, but Tl try to get along somebow until the factory starts up again; then I'll be all right!” “Weill, Pl guarantee you'll not want for money while J’m around! Here, take this”— thrusting a ten-dollar note into her hand. ‘ All I ask in return, is that you assist me to defeat the schemes of these anarchists; it 1s simply pay for services to be rendered,” ‘*Oh! Mr. Bristol, you are tco kind, Ido not feel that I ought, to take this money.” ‘““Pshaw! Accept it, of course, and say no more about it. I really owe you even more than that for helping me out of that pit of darkness, and I dc want you to help me to-night!” There was perceptible moisture in Dolly’s eyes as she extended her band. ‘*‘ Believe me, if there is anything I can do to assist you in your good work, you can command me,” she declared. ; If Dick felt surprise at this answer, he did not betray it. Yet he did so feel. . Here was a girl-woman, bred in a very rough society, uneducated, yet a person of real refine- ment and correct principle. Dick could but admire her and feel a deep in- terest in her fortunes. : ‘‘My intentions are,” he said, as they walked along, ‘‘ to prevent a premeditated crime—one which I am sure you, in your own heart, though reared among anarchists, as you have been, would shrink from. The Fes sh against the Coleridge estate, by these professed anarchists, is that which I have to fight. It is to put Mad- am Coleridge in position and control of the es- tate, to cast Cora out penniless and to drive Joe ~ a
Page 9
“Ou of Py Plaguet, Dore Dante, Madam Coleridge and Dot Drew. The other anarchists, so far as the Lake street Ungie @ concerned, are mainly tools to do.the work fot the others, See?” , ** Yes, I comprehend,” she replied. by They walked on. ‘‘ Chester Coleridge has left a will, as I have beeh informed,” Dick went on, ‘‘ but I am led to think that a trumped-up will is to be substitut- 2 ed, to cheat the rightful heiress!” 27 . “What a shame!” Dolly said, thoughtfully, ae wer old antipathy for Cora apparently gone. eh “*T could ery for her in her trouble, as much as I have hated her before. And Joe—” “This clique of villains,” went on Dick, ‘in see order to acquire the estate, must needs be rid of Cora first, then Joe—for Joe would fight the battle out for Mr. Coleridge’s sake, if it took a leg, or even two.” ,. “For Cora’s sake,” corrected Dolly. He believes in ‘Right is Right.’ i ‘ Don’t you?” 7 _ “There are two sides to that question,” she ‘answered, evasively. ‘‘I might be a poor enn” ae working-girl, but I think my industry and ser- ‘vice ought to receive better pay than it has re- ceived.” ; For a moment Dick felt lost; he hardly ex- pected this kind of a retort. Do you think Plaquet is such a bad fellow? Don’t you think that the others are rather ‘taking him for—well, to use a vulgar term, a sucker? That is to say, are they not using him . to forward their own schemes, and yet eventu- ally will drop him altogether?” A few seconds elapsed, without a word uttered by either; then the girl answered: ‘©You have brought me some new ideas,” she ay said, in a slow, thoughtful manner. “TI reall ee zé p> do not believe Isidor to be wickedly bad. He is nS a harum-scarum fellow, fond of dress, of gam- heart he is not depraved.” ae “In his acquaintance with the Dante-Drew es gang, he has acquired most of his bad habits, I infer.” ** Yes; he is one of Doc’s debtors, but is never . troubled. Drew has that power over him, at a Ce least.” ‘ “T see!” thought Dick. ‘ This plot is not of recent conception. It is a deep-laid scheme. ; Plaquet is studying law with one John Smith. ) gee Smith has been counsel for Mr. Coleridge, and drew up Coleridge’s will, of which Isidor Plaquet SS was a witness. was not wrong in my guess, Isidor is being hobs paige mto the rogues’ net,, ‘under the promises of a big reward. [must not ig lose track of him, that is certain.” ca) Oia Abruptly he said: “ a ts “Where does Plaquet live, Miss Dolly?” “T don’t know, He works for John Smith, the eee is, he is studying law with him, and—why, when I come to think of it, he - ‘has to-day been admitted to the bar. He told ce.) me so this morning. Beginning Monday, he will be Mr. Smith’s partner.” “Good for Plaquet,” Dick said, heartily. ‘I knew there was some good stuff in the fellow, and if he is really a lawyer, a useful future may | bein store for him,” “Do you think so?” Dolly inquired interested- ly. “TI shouldn't think you would admire him much, when he was one of the gang which -caused your imprisonment in the cellar!” '. |“ Qb, I understand the man better than you,” Dick said, positively, ‘‘He was compelled, I } think, to act with them, then, to avoid their suspicion. He is to-day an anarchist, to-morrow, he might be the reverse!” _ ___ Dolly laughed, and at the same time took the -_ .detective’s arm, for it was now growing dark, and the street was crowded, be 5 “Yt would be hard to make me believe that!” | she said. Rite * Love will surmount many barriers,” ~ “Tove? in surprise. “Ves, Is not Isidor in love with you ? And could you not, by womanly ways and interest, ~ Jead him from his wild habits, if such he has, ‘and direct him by the course that leads to honor, dut, and the exercise ofjhis talents? I think you Dolly looked at the detective in andazement, ch @ view of her influence or power was some- ry pap novel and new to her. ; _..‘ Isidor is not innately bad, Iam convinced,” lick went on, ‘* Now, suppose he was made to _, assert his true manhood and to become a good ee neon tint citizen by being a good lawyer? _ Would it not be a nice thing to have such a man for abe tb itt ‘hag a girl, I would as eer Ae : onal man, in to a man - out a trade or profession.” 8 all power. The conspirators are Isidor pete bling, and so has run into dissipation, but at. ‘ EA a a cohen FI P A 7 = ys 2 te eee * : ; . { cs ‘ PSE r Awood Dick, Jr., in Chica; “*Ts detective business a profession?’ Dolly in- quired, coyly. ** Well, perhaps. But, you see, a profession of that kind, may be classed among the most un- certain of all callings,” Dick replied, with a smile. ** But, now, to lay all joking aside, will you, —can you assist me to-night?” * How? IfI can, rest assured I will do all in my power.” ** There will be a secret meeting of six of the anarchists, to-night, at midnight.” “Probably! Saturday night is generally the time the leaders meet, I believe.” ‘* Well, I shall leave my bartender in full charge, with orders to close up at the usual! hour. What is that hour, as regards Drew’s place?” “ Twelve o’clock.” ‘*T suppose the saloon is then cleared?” “Drew and the other five leave the bar-room about ten minutes before twelve, and go to the second-story front room, where the secret ses- sion, as they call it, is held.” ‘*Have you ever been present at one of these sessions?” ** Of course not.” ‘““Have you never overheard what transpired during one of them?” ‘*T never bothered my head to listen,” Dolly replied, evasively, ** Well, what I want is this,” Dick said. ‘I shall excuse myself from joining the lodge to- night, on the plea that my presence is required elsewhere. But I want to hear what transpires between the secret six. Is there a way whereby I can do so?” Dolly reflected a. moment as they walked on. ‘*There is,” she at length answered. ‘‘There is a small room atone side of this room where the men meet. There is a glass door communi- cating from one room to the other, and in one of the panes a hole is broken, so that by station- ing yourself in this small room you can both see and overhear all thut is said and done in the big room,” ‘Ah! But how is one to reach this small room?” “ Leave that to me,” Dolly replied. ‘‘ I know how to reach it, for, unbeknown to Drew, I have a key to the lock of every door in the house, All you have to dois to meet the bar- tender, after he closes the saloon, and get the key to the saloon-door; the rest will be easy. Drew bas a key to the door of the hall that leads to the assembly-room, and that is the way they make their exit,” “Then you, too, would like to’ hear what transpires to-night?” And Dick eyed her sharply as he put the question, ‘*T would,” she replied, ‘‘If they mean any harm to Joe June, I want to know it, so as to thwart them!” “Very well. It, will be well, perhaps, for both of us to overhear their schemes. You will be in the vicinity of the saloon to-night?” ‘“ Yes, if I am not molested by the roughs who frequent taat neighborhood.” ** At midnight} then, { will look for you.” “*T will keep out of the neighborhood until nearly twelve o’clock, and then you will find me in a hallway directly across the street.” They separated, Dolly going in search of lodgings, while Dick made his way back to- ward Doc Drew’s saloon. He must needs make an excuse for not join- ing the anarchists that night. CHAPTER X, ; THE MIDNIGHT COUNCIL, WHEN Deadwood Dick reached the saloon, after his talk with Dolly Drew, he found only his bartender and Doc Drew present, and the latter about half-asleep, for he hac imbibed more liquor than usual that day, and was now under its influence. He looked up and nodded drowsily, as the new proprietor entered, “Well, did you find what you wanted?” he demanded, gruffly. ‘*T finds more as I ’spected,” Dick replied, grimly. ‘I finds out you haf no right to sell me this place, as dere pe a pig mortgage mit it all, und dat Meester Coleridge helt dis mort- ‘gage. So you mus’ gif back to me ve money I paid mit you!” “Well, I reckon not!” Drew replied, with a sneer. ‘‘You needn’t fret yourself about the mortgage, for I shall take it up as soon asl find out who Chet Coleridge’s executors gre.” “Nix! . I don’t run mine head in such risks as dot, Meester Drew! I vants my moneys pack, I dells you!” j “Well, you can't have it, and that settles it, Fo es oF Nim . . re “J teagan: . F354. ef Se ee ee gage, when a settlement of the Coleridge estate takes place, So if that don’t satisfy you, you'll have to do the next best thing, whatever that may be.” : or a moment Dick was tempted to give the rascal a good pounding; but, on second thought, he considered it would be better to bide his time, and not create any disturbance, until he was further prepared to, cope with it; so he turned away, with a sbrug of the shoulders, and ordering the bartender to close up at twelve o'clock, as he should not be back again that night, he once more left the saloon, After a few inquiries he found bis way to the law office of John Smith, counselor for the Coleridge estate, but the lawyer was not in, nor were his clerks, The office was closed, and upon the door-knob was a strip of crape. ‘““Somebody must be dead in the lawyer’s family,” Dick mused. ‘1 wonder who it could be!” There vas a confectionery store next door, and hither the detective went for information. “Ob! it?s Mr. Smith himself who is dead,” said the young lady clerk. ‘‘He was knocked down by a runaway team this afternoon, and received fatal injuries which terminated in his death, about two hours ago.”’ ‘*Indeed! Where did dis Meester Smit re- side?” ‘€ At some one of the up-town hotels. He died at the Street Hospital.” ‘* Vas be not a marriet man, mit a vife?” ‘Oh, no! He was a widower. His wife died several years ago.” Thanking his informant, Dick took his de- parture, ‘“‘This is bad,” he mused. ‘‘Smith could not have selected a worse time to sbuffle off this mortal coil. His demise will give Mrs. Cole- ridge and her colleagues fresh courage and power. If Isidor Plaquet should sueceed to Smith’s business, it would be an easy matter for him to substitute a forged will if be is bound to see the conspiracy through. I must look into this matter.” The hour was so late that Dick concluded not to visit the hospital that night, as it was more than likely he would be refused admittance; so, as he had nothirg else to do, he dropped into one of the theaters, to witness the closing act of a performance, and when it was over he made his way back into Lake street, as it was not far from midnight. When he came opposite his saloon, he was met by Dolly, who stood in the shadowy doorway. “You are just in time,” she said. ‘‘ We must take up our position in the small room before the secret six enter the larger room. close npon twelve o’clock, so come along.” They at once crossed the street. Between the saloon and the adjoining house, wasa dark covered alleyway leading to the area, which proved to bea small walled-in court-yard. From this yard, an open staircase led up to a second-story rear door of the saloon building. Cautioning Dick to make as little noise as possible, Dolly led the way up the stairs, and inserting a key in the lock of the door, opened it. Then nowt entefed a narrow hall, and the door was clo: behind them, leaving them in dark- ness. ‘ ‘Now, then, while I light a Jamp, you take off your heavy boots,” Doll directed. “ Won't a light be risky?’ queried Dick. ‘“‘If we are discovered there'll be trouble.” “Perhaps you’re right. Pull off your boots, and give me your hand, and I guess I can lead the way all right.” Dick accordingly removed the “stogies” he had adopted to comport with the rest of his cos- tume, and then, taking him by the hand, Dolly groped her way along the uncarpeted ball, to a door, which the girl opened, and both entered a little room having one window, which looked out upon the street, and the electric light below in a measure dispelled the darkness, Besides the door from the hall there was another, containing tvo stained glass panels, one of which had a piece broken out, ebout the size of a silver dollar. This door opened into the assembly room of the anarchists. Closing and locking the hall door, Dolly brougbt_ forward two stools, and placed them by the glass door, and she and Deadwood Dick sat down! ‘*Wecan both see and hear,” she said. is time they came up-stairs. ‘Yes, there they come, now.’ Footsteps were heard, and quickly the stained — windows showed that there was a light in the next room, * I’ve sold out, fair and square, and nothing re-— mains for me to do but to pay off the mort- It is very “Tt : v 3
Page 10
et ee ee 10 Applying his eyes to the aperture in the glass, Dick eagerly scanned as much of the next room as he was able. Just opposite his position, in the middle of the room, was a long table, surrounded by wooden chairs, and here six persons seated themselves, all on. one side, and facing the spy, over which he felt elated, as he was thus enabled to study their faces. Beginning at the right, sat Dore Dante; then Mrs. Chester Coleridge, Doc Drew, Jacob Stein- metz and Simon Schmidt, ‘Only five of them,” Dick whispered, to Dolly. She took a look through the aperture, and nodded. ‘*Plaquet is missing,” she said, ‘He'll be here soon, very likely.” She was right, for Plaquet soon entered, and took his seat at the table. “Well, let’s proceed to business,” Madam Coleridge said. ‘‘At this meeting, we must form decisive plans of action, which must be car- ried into execution, without delay. To-mor- row, Chester Coleridge will be laid away to rest, and that ends all trouble with him! and on Monday, if I am not greatly mistaken, Cora will marry Joe June!” At this, Dore Dante smote the table with his fist, and his eye gleamed, greenishly. “T’ll stop any such alliance with a bullet, if I hang for it, the next minute!”’ The madam laughed sarcastically. ‘“‘That’s what you have been preaching for days past, but June stalks about unharmed!” ‘* Because I have had to be careful. Since that accursed detective threw me out of Cole- ridge’s, ve had to lay Jow. But, never fear. If you keep your contract with me, you'll not find me wanting.” “‘T shall keep my contract with all of you, providing you keep ycur promises and help me to attain the position and property!” was the reply. ‘‘ Has any one seen the detective to- night?” There was a negative shake of the head. ‘*T would like to get a chance to lay him out!” Dante said bitterly. ‘‘ If he ain’t put out of the way he will be the means of getting us all into trouble.” “Yes, He took the bomb to the chief of olice. If they find out what is, we are all iable to arrest.” ** Pooh!” sneered Doc Drew, with a shrug of the shouléers, ‘*‘ How are they going to prove that we had anything to do with sending it? Our united denial would go a mighty sight fur- ther than the testimony of one man, be he even a detective, won't it?” ** Of course it will,”\assented Dante, “But you forget that a charge of poisoning can be brought against you, Mr. Dante!” Plaquet said, significantly. ““There’s no particular danger of that, Mrs. Coleridge at once assured, ‘‘ for there will be no post-mortem examination—the doctor, at Cora’s request, having issued a certificate of death. So far as Chester’s death is concerned, nothing is to be feared. Itis the disposal, next, of Cora, Joe June and this meddlesome detective, that must next occupy our attention.” ‘1 shall certainly insist that no harm be done to Cora Coleridge!” declared, Isidor Plaquet, promptly. ** You shall insist?” echoed the madam, sharp- ly, her cold gray eyes snapping with anger, while the others glared at the young lawyer in surprise. ‘‘And who are you, pray, to have the audacity to offer interfereuce with our plans?” “*T have the more or less honor of calling my- self your son, I believe,” Plaquet retorted. ‘“*Then so much the bigger idiot you are for daring to suppose we would brook any inter- ference from you! 1] am astonished!” **Oh! lve known all along he’d turn out a traitor!” sneered Dore Dante. Plaquet turned upon the speaker, fiercely. ““You’re a lying scoundre!l!’’ he cried, ‘‘ and if you don’t retract those words, you'll be called upon to meet me at the pistol’s point!” “T retract nothing!” Dante replied, doggedly, “‘and if you want to fight, name the time and place, and I'm yourman. We're rivals for Cora Coleridge’s hand, anyhow, and I’d as soon kill you as look at yon!” ‘* Very well. My second will wait upon you to-morrow, with a formal challenge. As for Cora Coleridge, no harm shall come to her; and not because I have matrimonial intentions in that direction, forI have not. There’s another I like far better,” Then turning to Mrs, Coleridge, Plaquet con- tinued: “You have no need to be astonished, madam. moe enter oS oe <r ae meee ) Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. I said no harm should come to Cora Coleridge, because there is no need for harming her.” ‘* And why not?” demanded the madam, her fingers working nervously. ‘“Isn’t the girl in my way of getting the fortune?” ** Not necessarily so.” ‘Then explain yourself. If bloodshed can be avoided, while at the same time the fortune comes into my possession, I want to know how it is to be done.” ‘ Well, I suppose you know I have been ad- mitted to the bar?” eS ices ‘* And made a partner of John Smith?” Weg, ‘* Well, John Smith is dead!” ‘*Dead?” echoed the other conspiraters. * Dead?” ‘*Yes. He wasrun over by a runaway team of horses to-day.” ** And killed, eh?” ** Not instantly. I saw the accident, and had him conveyed to the hospital. The injuries he sustained were internal, and he only lived four hours after reaching the hospital.” ‘© Well? What else?” ‘Oh, not much, except that Smith exercised his power of attorney, authorizing me to trans- act such of his unfinished legal business as IT could attend to, and directed that I should look after the Coleridge estate and will, first of all. So you see, it remains with me to say who shall inherit the estate of Mrs, Coleridge. See the point?” There was a momentary silence, during which TIsidor’s audience eyed him partly in hope and partly in doubt, Doc Drew was first to speak. ‘* Well, ef that don’t beat the Dutch!” he ejac- ulated. ‘Tt certainly isa welcome happening,” Mrs. Coleridge assented. ‘* Of course Isidor will now help me to the fortune, and the road is clear,” ‘*TDon’t be tou sure of that!” Isidor returned. ‘* Tf I wish, you can handle Chester Coleridge's shekels, If I don’t wish, you can’t. I’ve got the game all in my own hands, and you must deal with me, There are two conditions to be fulfilled, before you can hope to corral the for- tune. You must make good the one condition, and Doc Drew must ike good the other!” CHAPTER XT. MORE REVELATIONS, In the little room, Dick and Dolly had of course listened to all this conversation, with keenest interest. ‘*Plaquet means you!” Dick had whispered, when the lawyer declared that he loved another than Cora Coleridge. Dolly had smiled faintly, but made no an- swer. When Plaquet announced that there were two conditions by which only his scheming mother could attain the Coleridge estate, the two spies listened eagerly, to catch the announcement— to Jearn the conditions. There was a brief silence in the assembly at Plaquet’s decision; then Mrs. Coleridge’s sharp tones were again heard: “So you bave been playin a game of your own, have you?” she said, vindictively. ‘ Dore Dante was right! You are a traitor, and as such you should be treated. You think to bleed us by blackmail, I suppose, before you help us. What a good confederate you are, to be sure! But, if you think to make fools of us, you'll find out your mistake.” “Yes,” growled Drew, ‘* you’ll find out your mistake, in a way you won't like, too!” To this Dante, Schmidt and Steinmetz as- sented, with grunts of displeasure, “Oh! I’m not afraid of you in the slightest, whatever threats you make!” Plaquet retorted coolly, ‘‘The safe of my late partner contains Coleridge’s will, and another will, the exact copy of the original, except that the name of the legatee is absent, The space thus left unfilled, would just accommodate the name of Jane Col- eridge. But, there are conditions which Jane Coleridge and Doc Drew must agree to, before the name is inserted, and the original destroyed, If these conditions are not accepted, Cora Col- eridge, on her marriage to Joseph June, will have her father’s fortune in its entirety and T will see to it that it is so.” ‘It shall never be!” hissed madam, growing white with passion, ‘Leave it to me; Ill attend to June!” cried Dante? “Bah! kill this traitor, here!” exclaimed Drew, with savage emphasis. of ig reine every one of you in two murders. But, I fear neither one nor all of you, [ am armed, and am a dead shot. The further fact that keeping company with the two wills, in my late partner’s safe, is a full expose of all your plots, which in case of my sudden death, goes to the chief of police—this gentle fact, I think, will show you bow highly necessary it is that J should live. This message to the chief of police would prove intensely interesting to him,” and the speaker laughed tantalizingly. Madam Coleridge gave vent to her evil tem- per. ““Curse you! curse you!” she half-sobbed, ‘To think that a son of mine should turn upon me in such a manner! Name your conditions, you wretch!” . Softly! softly! mother dear!” warned Isi- dor. “Do not be imprudent enough to anger me, or you may regret it. Ail I want is to do business in a business-like way. Whilelam not a villain, and would shrink from wanton crime, I am like every one else, I want to get a good start in the world. ‘Tam now very poor, but have a hope/of making out well in the profession I have adopted. But, I cannot expect to make such a living as I must have for some time to come; I must have money. “You offered me five hundred dollars if 1 would so manipulate the will that you would inherit the Coleridge estate; but such a sum is no compensation for such a service, as you all know, ‘““Here are terms, and I won’t deviate from them one iota. My price for making you heir- ess to the Coleridge fortune is five thousand dol- lars, instead of five bundred: Half of the amount must be paid in advance at once. The other half you are to pay me after the reading of the wall that settles the estate upon you. In consideration of the acceptance of this condi- tion, and providing Doe Drew also accepts the one [ shall impose upon him, I will then agree to do as follows, to-wit: **On Monday, after Chester Coleridge’s fune- ral, you and Cora Coleridge will receive legal citutions to appear before me personally, and immediately. to listen to the reading of the Coleridge will. This summons will be perfectly legal and above board, as Iam empowered to transact my late partner’s business; and fur- thermore, your husband’s will stipvlates that the will shall be opened and read within three days after bis demise. See?” “Go on!” madam hissed, the muscles of her face working strangely. Seemingly greed, fear and defiance were having a struggle for the mastery. “Well, I will then read the substituted will, and by its terms you are to pay Cora Coleridge, in money, within one year, the net sum of twenty thousand dollars—less than one-fifth of the real value of the estate, as you are aware. Twenty-five bundred of my five thousand must be paid before I send you the citation. To pre- vent your cheating me out of the other twenty- five, you are bound by the terms of the will to pay me that sum.” “You appear to bave everything cut and dried to suit yourself!” sneered Mrs. Coleridge. “Exactly! DPve got the whip band, and I in- tend to use it, You might as well capitulate, for you can gain nething by a fight with me.” ‘** Your terms are utterly out of the question. I haven't twenty-five hundred dollars in the world.” ‘*Ob, you can raise it! A woman who boasts of a fortune in diamonds is never at a loss to raise so trifling an amount. You can have un- til Monday morhing to make the payment, pro- viding you promise me it shall then be forth- coming,” ‘*But, you mentioned another condition,” was the reply. ‘Oh, that applies to Doc Drew! You must. use your influence, and if necessary, pay him to give up that which no longer belongs to him!” “What do you mean?’ quickly demanded Drew. “T refer to the bonds!” ; ** Bonds?” ejaculated the villain, in feigned amazement. ‘*I don’t know what you mean,” “You're a hypocritical villain—a thorough old scoundrel, and a liar!” Plaquet retorted, “‘and, more’s the pity you weren’t hung long ago. You don’t know anything about bonds, eb, when for nigh sixteen years you've been living off the interest from them. P, “111 try and refresh your memory, About a year ago, you will remember, I fell in love with Dolly, whom you call your daughter. That ‘“‘ You dare not kill me!” was Plaquet’s defiant | was before sbe turned her affections over to Joe challenge, ‘‘ for my death would be the means ’ June, Seeing. that’ my suit was not appre-
Page 11
ene eee ' of life than the Drews. . id true feelings underwent no change. “Tt was while I was keeping company with Dolly that she told me what she knew of her past, and she then expressed her belief that she was the daughter of people in a higher station I quite concurred with her opinion, and making note of what she had told me, set to work to look up the matter. I worked long and earnestly, in the hope that, if I succeeded in establishing her identity, she would look more favorably upon me. “Well, the result of my investigation was as follows: ‘‘A matter of seventeen years ago, a titled Englishman, Sir Jay Compton by name, came to America, accompanied by his wife, Lady Compton, his two-year old daughter, Corinne Coleridge Compton, and a man-servant named Dockrell Drew. ‘Before leaving England Sir Jay disposed of his ancestral estate, for teu thousand pounds, and on arrival in America, invested the amount in forty-year six per cent. railroad bonds—at least so he wrote back to a friend in England, a copy of which letter I secured. ‘‘ Not long after arriving in America, Sir Jay and wife and daughter came to Chicago, leaving Drew in New York, to follow later. “Her ladyship wanted to find her brother, Chester Coleridge, who was a prosperous busi- hess man, and whom she had not seen for years, “Before the train quite reached here, how- ever, Sir Jay and wife were both stricken with fever, and on arrival in this city, were taken to a hospital, where they died within a very few hours. ‘*Corinne was sent to a foundling home. ** Soon after Drew came to Chicago, got pos- session of the Compton effects, and, by produc- ing a document vesting him with power as uardian of Corinne, in the case of the death of ir Jay and Lady Compton, and with power to draw the annual interest on the bonds, for the purpose of supporting and educating Corinne, assumed charge of the child and the funds. This. document of course was a barefaced for- gery; but who was there to contradict its authenticity? Surely, not little two-year-old Corinne. ‘“*Ah! Doc Drew, you see I know you likea book, anc have got hard down onto your game. What a picnic you have had, to be sure. No wonder you were wiiling to act as Corinne’s guardian, when you drew a yearly stipend of three thousand dollars, interest on the bonds, now for over sixteen years. Whew! forty-eight thousand dollars—nearly the amount of Sir Jay’s original investment!” ' Doe Drew’s face, as the speaker progressed, had grown dark with rage, + “Well, what of it? It’s none of your cursed business!” he growled. ‘‘I took the girl out of the asylum, and brought her up, and of course I was entitled to pay for it.” “You brought her up, eh? How did you bring her up? You made her drudge for you, almost from childhood. Did you educate her?— yes, ina mill! You kept her, so far asin your power, from books and learning. But your power over her is at an end. The girl is over eighteen, and her own mistress. Therefore, in the name of the law, I demand the bonds.” Doc Drew Jaughed hoarsely. * Well, you'll not get them from me,” he de- elared. ‘I told you to-night that the girl and I had a flare-up, an’ she cleared out, stole the bonds, and took ’em with her.” “You lie, you scoundrel! She did not know of the existence of the bonds,” “So I thought, but I got fooled. When she was gone I went to get ’em, so as to put ’emina safe place, but they were gcne, Of course she inched ‘em, for no one unfamiliar with the ouse could have found them if they had search- ed for ’em a year.” Isidor Plaquet arose from the table with an impatient gesture. “Nonsense!” he said. “‘I wouldn’t believe ‘ou under oath. But there is no use of prolong- wh this controversy. You, Mrs, Coleridge, l call at my office, Monday morning, at nine clock, sharp, if ypu propose to accept my terms; but it will be needless for you to come thout you bring the money with you, and also Doz Drew and the bonds.” Then, with a bow, the young disciple of Black- stone left the room, re was grim silence for several minutes in the council-chamber ‘after his departure; then the female plotter and her hireling villains hud- dled together and conversed in whispers. What they said, of course, was all conjecture _ to Dick and Dolly, but the detective felt positive ciated, I virtually withdrew it, although my. ll they were engaged in hatching up some new and heinous scheme, Dick and Dolly, or Corinne as we shall call her in future, had heard the revelation of Doc Drew’s villainy with astonishment. ‘¢ Thanks to Plaquet, the mystery of your life is thus cleared up,” Dick whispered. ‘‘He has done, in advance of me, what I should eventu- ally bave tried to do,” ‘Thank you. I know you would. Only to think of it I am the daughter of titled varents, and Cora Coleridge is my own cousin. oor Cora! Do you suppose she will lose her fortune?” ‘“*By no means!” Dick declared. ‘ Plaquet wants to get the bonds, in hope of winning you, and he’ll not sell out until he does get them, Therefore, we must possess ourselves of them before Drew has an opportunity to_turn them over to Jane Coleridge.” ‘* But where are we to look for them?’ Corinne asked, eagerly. ‘*Perhaps in the barrel-shaped casket you told me about. Come; no time is to_be lost!” CHAPTER XII. RECOVERED. By glancing through the aperture in the glass door, it was easy to see that Mrs, Coleridge and her anarchist allies were still engrossed in un- dertone conversation, and were not likely to break up asa party, for some time yet. **T don’t believe the bonds are in the casket,” Corinne said, in answer to Dick’s last question. ‘** Did you open the casket when you saw it?” Dick asked. ““No, There was a little padlock and clasp that fastened down the lid.” ‘*Then the chances are the casket contains the bonds. Where is it?” “Tn the old oak chest where I first fonnd it, I suppose, unless it has been removed. The chest is up in the attic.” ‘Take off your shoes then, get a light, and let’s go up and make the search. We must find the bonds, if we have to search the house high and low. Does Drew ever sleep here at night?” ‘*“Not since his wife died. He then sold off most of the furniture, and we went to board further down the street.” Then his personal effects are most bere,” “He hasn’t any, except an extra suit of clothes and some underwear,” Corinne said, with a smile. **] don’t see what be could have done with all the interest money he collected from the bonds!” Corinne shrugged her pretty shoulders, **Qh! he’s got rid of the most of it. He has been a gambler, ever since I can remember, and lost continually.” She had, by this time, removed her shoes, and softly opening the door, they tiptoed from the room. The hall was lighted, Drew having placed a lamp in the bracket when he came up-stairs, Leaving Dick at the foot of the stairs leading to the garret, Corinne procured a candle, lit it, and tbken, by its dim light, the two stole as stealthily as possiole up the narrow staircase, Without misbap they reached the single apart- ment under the unplastered room, It was a small attic filled with all sorts of odds and ends, such as only a garret will ac- cumulate. Here was a spinning-wheel, there a dilapi- dated stove, and a variety of ‘broken furniture, cast-off garments and tinware, In cne corner stood the massive oaken, iron- bound chest, which looked as if it might have been built to withstand the wear and tear of centuries, “There's the chest!” Corinne said, pointing to it, ‘‘ but you will observe that it is secured by a padlock.” By the aid of the candle, Dick carefully ex- amined the chest and the fastenings, **Tt don’t look like an easy job to unlock it!” he admitted. ‘ Perhaps, however, as the pad- lock is not a strong ove, I may be able to force it, providing I can find anything to force it with!” He, then, began to search for something with which to demolish the fastening, Corinne watch- ing him, in the mean time, with curious gaze. Since she had come to know him better, he seemed to her like a brother. And it all seemed so strange to her, too, that she, plain Dolly Drew, the factory girl, should turn out to be a baronet’s daughter, and bear such a distinguished name as Corte Coleridge Compton, Deadwood Dick, Jr%,:in Chicago. And, too, she was an own cousin to Cora Cole-. ridge, whom she had cordially hated! It all seemed too strange to be true. In the mean time, Dick bad found a pointed bar of iron, which he calculated would answer his, purpose, and once ‘more approached the chest. ‘* Pll have the lid open in a jiffy!” he declared, good-naturedly, ‘**Don't be too sure. The lid is strong!” ** But not so with the lock.” ‘*Be careful not to make too much noise, we were caught in the act, they will kill us!” ‘*Don’t be too sure of that,” Dick smiled. ‘*[m armed, and as they say out West, I know how to use 4 pop as wellas a baby knows how to manipulate a sucking bottle.” -2 pot Mercy on us, what’s a pop?’ de~ manded Corinne. ‘““ Why, a machine we used to kill Injuns with —a barker—a flame-flumiper—a piumbago-puker, or in other words, the Western undertaker’s: chief dependence to earn a livelihood, a re- volver!” “* My, what a lingo!” Then Dick began operations on the chest, by trying to pry out the staples, but that proved a futile attempt, for they were of heavy wrought iron, and clinched on the inside of the oaken planks. He next tried to break open the clasp of the padlock. This at first seemed no eas job, but it is said perseverance will overcome alk things, and at last he had the satisfaction of see- ing that his etforts were successful, for slowly but surely the lock yielded, and then burst asunder. In a twinkling Dick had raised the ponderous lid, and the contents lay revealed before them. There was a lot of clothing, which had once been costly and fashionable. Among these nestlea the coveted casket, which was about the size of what a one-gallon barrel would be, The woodwork was of polished ebony, and the- five little hoops that held it together were of chased silver. One head was made to raise out on silver hinges, as a lid, and was secured with a tiny padlock. It was a pretty thing to look at, and had, evi- dently, once beqn used as a repository for jewels, Dick seized it eagerly, and made a careful examination of it. ‘* Easy enough to pry it gpen?” he com- mented. “*Ts there anything in it?’ asked Corinne, as he shook it up and down. ‘Yes, and they’re papers, too, I reckon, for the sound is not loud enough for any heavier substance. Hand me the iron bar.” “Oh! it’s a pity to destroy such a pretty thing!” Corinne protested. ‘“*T know it, But you want the bonds, don’t you?” “Yes, But don’t destroy it any more than you can help. It belonged to papa and mamma you know!” Dick took the iron, and with little effort pried open the lid, and then, reaching in his hand, he drew forth a packet of papers, “*The bonds! the bonds, sure enough!’ he cried. “‘ We will triumph, now! Here, my girl, take them, put them in your bosom, and shoot the P one who tries to take them from you And Dick pressed the precious papers and a revolver into her bands, Then, they went down-stairs, put on their foot-wear, and left the building, CHAPTER XIII. A TWICE ASTONISHED MAN, THE next day was Sunday, and it was one of those wild blustery days, so peculiar to Chicago, when it is far from pleasant to bave to be out of doors, A morning paper contained the following: “WAS MURDER THE INTENT ? “This morning about 3 a*m. Joseph June, the superintendent of the Coleridge shoe factory, was awakened from his slumbers by a sound as if some one was trying to raise the window of his room. His room is the second story rear room, of the honse where he boards. at No, Gold street, and looks out upon the roof of an extension, the roof beginning just below the window sill, and slanting. toward the ground, * Quickly springing from bed, June turned up his light and reached for his revolver, which was in bis washstand drawer. As he did so, tw6 pistol-shots were fired at him, through the winiow, and be saw & man jump from the roof, “ Fortunately, neither of the shots took effect. Rushing to the window, June threw up the sasb, If Bite. &
Page 12
just in time to see a man scaling the back yard ence.. “June quickly fired a shot, and heard a yell of pain; then the man disappeared. Subsequent search failed to find any trace of the wretch, drift- ing snow having covered his trall. “ About an hour latet, Patrolman Moore found a man lying inthe snow on the West side, full a mile away, in an unconscious condition. He wasconvey- ed to the nearest police station, where he expired, without regaining his senses, There was nothing on his person that gave his name or address. “Joe June, when seen by a reporter, expressed it as his opinion that the man who attempted to enter his room was an anarchist, and that his mission was murder, as the anarchs are not over fond of the handsome superintendent |!”’ Deadwood Dick read this article while at breakfast, and nodded, thoughtfully. ‘Good for June!” he thought, ‘‘ He did per- fectly right. I, for one, can surmise who the dead man is! Dore Dante’s vindictive threat was not idle words, after all!” To satisfy himself that his suspicion was right, Dick hired a cab, after breakfast, and was driven to the morgue. It took but one glance at the rigid face upon the marble slab to convince the detective that he had not erred. The corpse was indeed that of Dore Dante. He inquired at the morgue if Joe June had eon there yet to view the remains, but received a negative answer. Then he went back to the hotel. That afternoon, at two o'clock, the funeral wervice was held over the remains of Chester Coleridge at his late residence, and, half an bour later, the heavily-draped hearse, followed by two close curriages, rolled away toward. the cemetery. : The funeral was an exclusive one, only a few intimate neighbors having received invitations to attend. Recognizing the custom of the modern age, as regards such matters, and having received no invitation:to attend, Dick remained in his room at the hotel. He rather expected a visit from Joe June that evening, but, Joseph failed to materialize, and so the detective retired at an early hour. At seven o’clock the next morning, according to previous agreement, Dick met Corinne Comp- ton in the neighborhood, and together they made their way to the law office of the late John Smith. Early as was the hour, Isidor Plaquet was at the office, He seemed somewhat startled at the unex- pected entrance of Dick and Corinne, for the former, of course, no longer wore his Dutch dis- guise, but was his old self again. ‘*‘Good-morning,” Dick saluted, pleasantly. ** Mr. Plaquet, I believe?” ‘*'Y-e-s!” was the rather hesitating answer. ** I presume you remember me,” Dick went on, with a smile, at the same time handing Corinne a chair, and taking a seat himself, “‘T think I have seen your face somewhere,” Plaquet answered, shifting rather uneasily in his chair. “Just so, It wasin Doc Drew’s saloon. I was knocked down by old Steinmetz, and locked up in the sub-cellar!” ** All! ves, [remember now. That was mean of Drew and Steinmetz!” “So it was, Quite sure you did not have a hand if the job, eh?” ** Most assuredly not, lence.” “Oh! vou don’t, eh?” **Not a bit of it!” **Well, I must say you are about the most sensible anarchist I’ve seen ina long time. B the way, you will continue to run this office still in John Smlth’s stead?” “ce Yes,” “Have you much acquaintaince "among solid business men?” ** Well, not very extensive, sir?” *“Oh! f simply wanted to see if you were likely to know any one who would bail you out in case you were arrested. That's all!” “ Arrested ?” ejaculated Plaquet, starting nervously, and bis face changing color. ‘See here, sir, what brings you here?’ What do you want, anyhow?” I came here, ostensibly, to have a talk with you, but in reality, to arrest you, if occasion demanded it,” Dick replied, with unruffled de- meanor. , ‘‘ Whether it will be necessary to ar- rest you or not, depends altogether on your ¢con- duct.” “* Arrest me?” echoed Plaquet. what do hg charge me with?” “Ob! it’s only a trifling affair,” Dick re- I do not believe in vio- Why do you ask, ** What for— Deadwood, Dick, Jr., in Ch sponded, sarcastically—* sre and conspir- acy to defraud an orphan! ow, look here, Isidor Plaquet, you might as well stop trying to fit a mask on your face. never made that was big enough to conceal your | you. guilt, and when I come to remember that i have heard you say you were in love with my com- | icago. ““We both owe Mr. Bristol a great many thanks, Isidor. Since you have destroyed the false will, and shown that you have some good That cloak was | left in you, he will not press any charge agninst ou will be very, very good, in the fu- ture, won’t you, Isidor?” ‘*With God’s aid, I will henceforth bea re- panion here, | should think you would blush to | deemed man!” was the husky reply, while tears the very roots of your toes to know that she knows of your counivance in the plan to rob Cora Coleridge—a conspiracy soedeep laid and diabolical in all its phases, that it is enough to , make one shudder to think of it. Already it has cost one life, and an attempt was made upon another, by sending the bomb to Cora. Now, what do you think ought to be done with such wretches as you five tools of that she-fiend mother of yours?” Isidor buried his face in his hands, and shook like an aspen, with emotion, ‘** Don’t!” he gasped, imploringly: ‘I know I am a wretch, a beast, no better than a biood- thirsty savage, But, there is one ray of hope left me. I can make amends! I can save Cora Coleridege her fortune, and so help me God, I will do it!” ‘Well spoken!” Dick replied, his voice unre- lenting in its sternness, ‘ But, can you return to the inanimate clay of Chester Coleridge the life that poison sapped away?” f* Would to God I could, sir!” Isidor replied, lifting his tearfuleyes heavenward. ‘* But, be- lieve me or not, as you will, I swear by my hope of forgiveness in the next world, that [ had nothing to do with either poisoning, or the sending of the bomb, nor was I made aware of these circumstances until it was too late. My principal offense lies in the fact that my mother bribed me to forge a will, after she had told me ber husband could not live|” ** Hardly your principal offense, sir, when for five thousand dollars, and possession of certain railroad bonds, you would substitute the forged will for the original one, and make your mother heiress of the fortune!” Again, Isidor started, violently. ‘** How know you that?” he demanded. **T know all!” Dick replied. lady and myself, overheard the secret confer- ence, Saturday night. We were secreted in the little hall room!” Isidor looked as if be did not know whether it would be best for. him to feel sorry, or glad. ‘** Well,” he said, finally, ‘‘if that is the case, I am not sorry, for I can prove myself respon- sible for one worthy act, in tracing out Miss Compton’s origin, and this fact alone will com- fort me when I languish behind. the bars, I would like to have secured the bonds for ber. However, as she has a friend in you, detective, you can most likely recover them for her, ** And, now, before you take me in, there is one thing more I would do!” He arose, and with a light step, advanced to the big office safe. It seemed as if the thought of making repar- ation for wrong-doing, nerved him with elas- ticity. He took two legal-looking documents from the safe, and returning, handed one to Dead- wood Dick, “That,” hesaid, ‘‘ is the last will and testament of Chester Coleridge, drawn in favor of bis daughter, Cora. Take it and give it to her, along with my prayer for forgiveness, and tell her that it is my sincere hope she may never again suffer at the hands of a band of ruthless conspirators, “This!” he continued, referring to the other document, which he bad retained in his posses- sion, ‘is the will I forged at the instance of my wicked mother, Even ascarefully asI prepared it, so will I destroy it!” He walked over to the fireplace, in the grate of which glowed a bed of live coals, Then he deliberately proceeded to tear the will into tiny pieces, and cast them, one ata time, upon the fire, Thus he continued, until the document that might have proven fatal to Cora Coleridge’s in- terests was entirely destroyed. Then he turned to Dick and Corinne, with a satisfied smile. “ That’s all,” he said, ‘‘Now, my mind is easier, and I am ready to go!” “Go?” echoed Dick, “Yes, Am I not under arrest?” “Not as any one knows of!” Corinne cried, springing up, and extending her hand. ‘I’ve gota word tosay about that. To you I owe my restoration to my family name, and to you and my good friend, Mr. Richard Bristol, joint- ly I owe the restoration of the bonds, which we recovered last night, “This young | filled the young man’s eyes. ‘*That’s right, Isidor. Brace oP man!” Dick said heartily, ‘and Pl that Miss Corinne will help you!” ‘“* Of course I will,” Corinne replied. ‘‘ Isidor proposed to me once, I shall hold that as a con- tract, now!” ‘ Plaquet_gazed down at her, in utter amaze- ment, ‘Why, Dolly,” he said—‘ grad sn ton, I mean, You refused me once; why should you change your mind, now, when [ am in dis- race? “Hang the disgrace!” she said, some of her old-time factory-girl abandon cropping out.” ‘*T was giddy then, and liked every good-look- ing fellow, and thought every good-looking fel- low liked me. But, Mister Bristol, here, took me in hand, and wrought such a change in me that I am not the silly girl I used to be.” ‘*T am glad I have accomplished that good,” Deadwood Dick laughed. ‘tI wonder if I wouldn’t make out wellif I were to start into a matrimonial agency?” _ For answer, Isidor said: “Quick! yon two get into the back room, Here comes my mother!” Dick and Corinne had barel when the front door of the Mrs, Coleridge entered. CHAPTER XIV. CONCLUSION. THE widow was attired in a handsome walk- and be a guarantee time to obey ce opened, and | ing habit, and her general appearance was fas- tidious in the extreme. One thing, however, was noticeable—where she usually wore a lavish display of diamonds, she now wore none, Then, too, her eyes indicated that she bad passed a sleepless, anxious night. She seated herself in a chair, and drew a long breath, as if she bad been walking fast. ‘* Well, I see you are here!” Isidor observed, scarcely looking up from his desk, at which he pretended to be writing. ‘* Yes, and the deuce’s to pay!” she replied. “Indeed? How much do you owe him, moth- er? You’ve been working for him a pretty long time, and ought to have the score about squared u 7 “You're a fool!’ she said. ‘Don’t give me any of your back talk, or you’ll have reason to regret it, sir.” . “Why, you do seem to be in a very breezy mood this morning.” “Am I? Then I won't tolerate an So please understand that from the you fixed out that will?” “ Certainly not.” ‘‘And why have you not?” she demanded, working herself into a passion, “Because I have not seen either bonds or money forthcoming, yet.” “Pye gotithe money. The bonds cannot be- had, sir,” “Why not, pray?” “For the very good reason that Drew, Schmidt, and Steinmets have skipped to Canada, and Drew has taken the bonds with him.” ‘* That’s unfortunate for you.” ’ ‘“ Why so? Do you mean to say that because Icannot produce the bonds I cannot have the Coleridge will?” 7 “Yes. Business is business. You knew my terms. Why did you come hereif you could not comply with them?” ‘*Because I am determined you shall make me heiress of the estate, bonds or no bonds, You know me well enough, Isidor Plaquet, to under- stand that I won’t be baffled.” ‘*Oh, I know you’re no angel, but that does not make the least particle of difference to me. No bonds, no fortune. And, as I know the bonds are where you cannot get them, I might as well tell you that all hopes of petting the fortune are gone, so far as you are concerned,” “Who has got the bonds?” o “ My affianced wife, Corinfie gas, Comp- ton, to whom they rightfully belong. nd now, mother, let me give you a little advice. Give up your mercenary and utterly unprincipled , schemes, and leave the city, and I don’t think any trouble will be made for you, although the detective has got the whole plot down to a dot, nonsense, rst. Have and is after you. But, remain longer in Chicago, pe Sg ee ‘
Page 13
- ¥ ee and you do so at your ownrisk. State’s Prison will surely hold you.” ‘ - Mrs, Coleridge glared at him a moment, her teeth set hard together and a greenish gleam in her wicked eyes. : sy ' **Tsidor,” she said, finally, ‘‘ is it possible that you are a son of mine?” “Tam sometimes ashamed to remember that Tam,” he replied. ; . At which she laughed wickedly. - Don’t be a fool, but listen! That fortune is within our grasp—our grasp, mind you. Make me heiress, destroy the will, and you shall share ' and share.alike with me.” ‘* Impossible!” be replied, “* How impossible?” ‘* Because the forged will is already destroy- ed, and the legal will has been placed in bands that will convey it to the real heiress, Cora Coleridge.” For a moment the infuriated and baffled wo- man was dumfouaded. She could not seem to x comprehend that the last chance for her to win the coveted wealth was gone, She sat like one stupefied for a moment; then | a bitter malediction escaped her lips. j “You devil, you did it!” she cried. The next instant there was a pistol report, and Isidor toppled from his chair with a cry of pain, while the murderous woman, smoking re- volver in hand, made for the door. But Deadwood Dick sprung from the inner room and confronted her. * Halt!” he ordered. . name of the law!” ‘** Never!” she shrieked. / Test!” / She hurled her weapon straight at his head, | _ and then taking a litile bottle from her pocket, drank off the contents, to the dregs. “IT arrest you, in the **Death before. ar- Little remains to be told. } Mrs. Coleridge baffled justice, for she died _ , within an hour after taking the poison. pp Isidor was only slightly wounded, and under { Corinne Comptvn’s careful nursing, was soon oni about, 4 . . R Then, one evening, later on, the two cousins, Corinne Coleridge and Corinne Coleridge Comp- ton, met to shake hands for the first time in their livesas relatives, while the two prospective brothers-ia-law, Isidor and Joe June, also took laced grip, in which Deadwood Dick joined them. And needless to add that, well paid for his services, when he started on for the far West, Deadwood Dick Jr. carried with him many oe oa zeeneaimence. . oc Drew and pals made good their escape to -* Canada, and are not likely § return dcnoes "the ___ border soon. ‘) THE END. 1 Ay ‘Beadle’s Dime Library. BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER, 145 Pistol Pards; or, The Silent.Sport fr ‘ 160 Soft: Hand, Sharp; or, The Man with thetent oa” 182 Ha: one of the Canyon, Pos! Ph ort. is Up; or, Fa bares g | 214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch. Se oe tain Cutsleeve; or, The Little Sport. , 300 A ic Mike, the Man of Frills u. port in Spectacles; or, The Bad Time at _ Bunco. _- 883 Derringer Dick. the Man with the Drop. 844 Double Shot Dave of the Left Hand. 356 Thre Handsome Sports; or, The Double Com- _ ___ bination, _ 875 Royal George, the Three in One. _ 896 The Piper Detective. , - Snapshot Sam; or, The Angels’ Flat Racket, ; ger Tom of Red Bend, or Sumshine, the Man of Three Lives. ;* ‘t iy ‘ — at _ BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 8 The He adless Horseman; A Strange Story of 2 The Death-Shot? or, Tracked to Death. 5) The p Hunters, A Romance of the Plains, a Specter Barque. A Tale of tlre Pacifi 1 e os a of the Rifles; or, The Queen of the 200 The Rifle Rangers; or, Ad. in Mexi 8 1 he hite Chic ventures in Mexico A Romance of Northern Mex- pO | ; The War Trail: or, The Hunt of the Wild Horse. Wild Huntress; or, The Squatter’s Ven- : Nitieeaais nl ne oa i Mt aja lie ae ~4 ma r3 with Deadwood. Dick, _ 478 Pinnacle Pete; or, The Fool from Way Back. t BY capt. FRED. WHITTAKER. 39 The Russian Spy; or, The Starry Cross Brothers. 65 The Red Rajah; or, The Scourge of the Indies. 69 The Irish Captain. A Tale of Fontenoy. 96 Double Death; or, The Spy of Wyoming. 98 The Rock Rider; or, The Spirit of the Sierra. 108 The Duke of Diamonds. 115 The Severed Head; or, The Secret of Castle ‘oucy. 132 Nemo, King of the Tramps. 159 Red Rudiger, the Archer. 174 The Phantom Knights. 187 The Death’s Head Cuirassiers. 193 The Man in Red. : 206 One Eye. the Cannoneer. 211 Colonel Plunger; or, The Unknown Sport, 215 Parson Jim, King of the Cowboys. 22H; he Mad Hussars; or, The O’s and the Mac’s, 230 The Fiving Dutchman of 1880, 242 The Fog Devil; or, The Skipper of the Flash. 247 Alligator Ike; or, The Secret of the Everglade. 253 A Yankee Cossack; or,The Queen of the Nihilists, 265 Old Double-Sword; or, Pilots and Pirates. 272 Seth Slocum, Railroad Surveyor. 277 The Saucy Jane, Privateer. 284 The Three Frigates; or, Old Ironsides’ Revenge. 290 The Lost Corvette; or, Blakeley’s Last Cruise, 295 Old Cross-Eve, the Maverick-Hunter. 803 Top-Notch Tom, the Cowboy Outlaw. 810 The Marshal of Satanstown; or, The Cattle- Lifters’ League. 826 The Whitest Man in the Mines. 878 John Armstrong, Mechanic, 406 Old =~ Hicks, Showman. 412 Larry Locke, the Man of Iron. 445 Journeyman John, the Champion, BY OLL COOMES, 7 Death Notch, the Destroyer. 43 Dakota Dan, the Reckless Ranger, 44 Old Dan Rackhack, the Great Extarminator. 46 Bowie-Knife Ben, the Nor’west Hunter. 48 Idaho Tom, the Young Outlaw of Silverland. 51 Red Rob, the Boy Road-Agent. 99 The Giant Rifleman: or, Wild Camp Life. 187 Long Beard, the Giant Spy. 148 One-Armed Alf, the Giant Hunter. BY ANTHONY P. MORRIS, 5 The Fire Fiends; or, Hercules. Hunchback. 95 Azhort, the Axman; or, The Palace Secrets. 100 The French Spy; or, The Bride of Paris. 167 The Man of Steel. Tale of Love and Terror, 185 Man Spider; or, The Beautiful Sphinx. 238 Hank Hound, the Crescent City Detective. 260 The Masked Mystery; or, The Black Crescent. ~ 288 Electro Pete, the Man of Fire. 306 The Roughs of Richmond. 313 Mark Magic, Detective, 334 re Cipber Detective; or, Mark Magic’s New 1, 343 The Head Hunter; or, Mark Magic in the Mine, 357 Jack Simons, Detective, 4 - BY GEORGE ST. GEORGE. 296 Duncan, the Sea Diver. 417 Tucson Tom; or, The Fire Trailers. BY J. C. COWDRICK. 390 The Giant Cupid; or Cibuta John’s Jubilee. 422 Blue Grass Burt, the Gold Star Detective. 436 Kentucky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pive. 452 Rainbow Rub, the Tulip from Texas, 473 Gilbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective. | BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON. 176 Lady Jaguar, the Robber Queen. 194 Don Sombrero. the California Road Gent. ‘ 202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. 219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Tom’s Mission, 223 Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain. 227 Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter of Idaho. 237 Long-Haired Max; or, The Black League. 245 Barranca Bill, the Revolver Champion 258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo. 263 Iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer. 66 Leopard Luke the King of Horse-Thieves. - 271 Stonefist, of Big Nugget Bend. 276 Texa: Chick the Southwest Detective, 285 Lightning Bolt, the Canyon Terror. 291 Horseshoe Hank, the Man of Big Luck. 805 Silver-Plated Sol, the Montana Rover. 811 Heavy Hand; or, The Marked Men. 823 Hotspur Hugh; or, The Banded Brothers. 18 Pathaway; or, Nick Whiffles. the old Nor’west rapper. 17 Nightshade; or, The Robber Prince. 22 telaw;_or, Nattie of the Lake Shore. 37 nee sy Hunehback; or, The Santee Sword- r. 58 Silver Knife; or. The Rocky M i . 70 Hydrabad, the Strangler. Sho age aes ee 73 The Knights of the Red Cross; or,‘The Granada cian, 163 Ben Brion; or, Redpath, the Avenger. _ BY PROF. J. H. INGRAHAM. 113 The Sea Slipper: or, The Freebooters/ 118 The Burglar Captain; or, The Fe Ten: Star. 814 Lafi 3.9" The Pirate of the Gulf. | 816 Lafitte’s Lieutenant; or, Child of the Sea, I } ay % ” Jr,, in Chicago. ge NES ‘ a Yee 1 y BY COLONEL DELLE SABA. 58 Silver Sam; or, The Mystery of Deadwood City, ss 87 The Scarlet Captain; or, Prisoner of the Tower: Yigg 106 Shamus O’Brien, the Bould Boy of Glingal. BY NEWTON M. CURTISS, 120 The Texan Spy; or. The Prairie Guide. 254 Giant Jake, the Patrol of the Mountain. BY FRANCIS JOHNSON. a 25 The Gold Guide; or, Steel Arm, Regulator. 26 The Death Track; or, The Mountain Outlaws. 23 Alapaha the Squaw; or, The Border Renegades. . 124 Assowaum,the Avenger; or, The Doom of thee she Destroyer. 185 The Bush Ranger: or, The Half-Breed Rajah, 186 The Outlaw Hunter; or, The Bush Ranger, 188 The Border Bandit; or, The Horse Thief’s Trait. BY C. DUNNING CLARK, 164 The King’s Fool. ( 183 Gilbert the Guide. _ BY COL. THOMAS H. MONSTERY. 82 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster. “we 126 The Demon Duelist; or, The Leagu> of Steel, Ns 143 The Czar’s Spy; or, The Nihilist League. : 150 "1 Rubio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen. 157 Mourad, the Mameluke; or, The Three Swords masters. 169 Corporal Cannon, the Man of Forty Duels. 236 Champion Sam; or, The Monarchsof the Show’ 262 Fighting Tom. the Terror of the Toughs. 832 Spring-Heel Jack; or, The Masked Mystery. BY ISAAC HAWKS, Ex-Detective. 232 Orson Oxx; or, The River Mystery. 240 A Cool Head; or, Orson Oxx in Peril, BY GUSTAVE AIMARD. 15 The Tiger Slayer; or. Eagle Heart to the Rescne,. 19 Red Cedar, the Prairie Outlaw. 20 The Bandit at Ray: or, The Prairie Pirates. 21 The Trapper’s Daughter; or, The Outlaw’s Fate. 24 Prairie Flower. 62 Loyal Heart: or, The Trappers of Arkansas, 149 The Border Rifles. A Tale of the Texan War, 151 The Freebooters. A Story of the Texan War, 153 The White Scalper. BY NED BUNTLINE. 14 Thayendanegea, the Scourge; or, The War-Eagle.. 16 The White Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet. 18 The Sea Bandit; or, Tne Queen of the Isle. 23 The Red Warrior; or, The Comanche Lover, 61 Captain Seawaif, the Privateer. . 111 The Smuggler May sear h or. The Skipper’s Crime. j 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot Spy. : 270 Andros the Rover; or, The Pirate’s Daughter, 861 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. ; ny MISCELLANEOUS, s 6 Wildcat Bob, the Boss Bruiser. By Zéward L. Wheeler. 9 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10 be in a French Police Spy. Written by” self. 11 Midshipman Easy. By Captain tt. 82 B’hoys of Yale; or, The Rcrapen of Cotoalaie. 60 Wide Awake, the Robber King. By Frank Du- mont. 68 ee Fighting Trapper. By Captain 7. F.C. om 76 The Speee's Musketeers. By George Albany.. 78 The Mysterious Spy. By Arthur M. Grainger. ’ 102 The Masked Band; or, The Man without a Name. By George L. Aiken’ . 110 The Silent Rifleman. By H. W. Herbert, 12% The Blacksmith Outlaw; or, Merrie England. 3 Harrison Ainsworth. 188 Rody the Rover. By William Carleton, 140 Tne Three Spaniarjs. By Geo, Walker. 144 The Hunchback of NotreDame. By Victor Hugo. vat 146 The Doctor Detective. By George Lemuel. <p 152 Captain Ironnerve, the Counterfeiter Chief. 158 The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. Frank Powell. 166 Owlet, the Robber Prince. By Septimus R- Urban. 179 Conrad, the Convict. By Prof, Gildersleeve, _. vary 190 The Three Guardsmen, By Alexander Dumas, 261 Black Sam, the Prairie Thunderbolt. By Col. Jo Yards. 25 The Smuggler Cutter; or, The Cavern in the Cliff. i RS D, Conroy. | $12 Kinkfoot Karl, the Mountain Scourge. By Mor- ris Redwing. 830 op Colt, the Quaker City Detective. By Charles orris. 850 Flash Falcon, the Society Detective. By Weldom J, Cobb. 853 Bart Brennan; or, The King of Straight Flush. By John Cuthbert. a ah Telegraph Detective. By George Henry 2 orse i 410 Sarah Brown, Detective. By K. F. Hill. 471 The Heart of Oak Detective. By E. A. St. Mox. YP A new issue every Werlnesday. ; be Beadle’s, Dime Library is for sale b; all \ Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by maflom receipt of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADA : Publishers, William Street, New York, «
Page 14
* RE ee SR RRR, eee a ar ieee ~ - cicmes PR re - ‘! ce 8 . 4 uf Y r ¥ 7 Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete Ss a a na READLP’S«H ALF-[JIME«[IBRARY. and ‘Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. Jo Double Numbers. BY OLL COOMES, & Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Knitfe, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lusso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 Vhe Border King; or, The Secret Foe, 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 4 Hawk-eye Marry the Young Trapper Ranger. 88 Kolloy the Boy Ranger. 284 Sure Shot Seth, th- Boy Rifleman, 148 Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little ilurricane, the Boy Captain, 202 Prospect Pete: or, The Young Outlaw Hunters. ‘208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps. 218 Tiger ‘Tom, the Texas Terror, 224 Dashing Diek; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. ‘S88 ‘The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger. 248 The Disguised Gualde 3 or, Wild Raven, the Ranger. 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 272 Minkskin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 809 The Sky Demon; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger. B84 Whip-King Joe, the Bov Ranchero. 409 Herculas; wr, Dick, the Boy Ranger. A1T Webtoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. AAS Little Buckakin, the Young Prairie Centaur, 457 Wingedfoot Fred 3 or, Old Polar Saul. 468 Tamarac ‘Vom, the Big ely Boy. 478 Ola Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. 652 Don Barr, the Plains Freelance, 661 Old Kit Bandy’s Deliverance. 670 Norway Nels, the Big Boy Mountaineer. 680 Dauntless Dan, the Freelance, or, Old Kit Bandy in Arcadia. BY BUCKSKIN SAM (Major Sam, 8, Hall.) 284 Old Rocky « ** Boyees; or, Benito, the Horse-Breaker 246 Glant George; or, The Ang’! of the Range. 275 Arizona Jack ; or, Giant George’s Pard. 297 The Tarantula of Taos; or, Giant George’s Revenge. BOT The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben’s Death Hunt. 818 Ker-whoop, Ker-whoo} or, The Tarantula of Taos, B2z Creeping Bat, the Caddo; or, The Red and White Pards. 882 Frio Fred: or, The Tonkaway’s Trust, $44 The Fighting Trio; or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway. B49 Wild Wolf; or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front. 857 The Ranch Ralders: or, The Siege of Fort Pargatory, 861 Snap-Shot, the Boy Kanger. 875 Chiota, the Creek; or, The Three Thunderbolts. 8S1 Kandera Bills or. Frio Frank to the Front. BOOZ Romeo and the Reda; or, The Beleaguered Ranch. 404 Little Lartat; or, Pecnn Pete’s Big Rampage, 414 The Dalay from Denver. 427 The Three Tratlers; or, Old Rocky on the Rampage, 442 Bluff Bill; or, The Lynx of the Leona. 455 Little Lone Star: or, The Belle of the Cibolo, 684 Cache Carl, the Chico Giart BY PHILIP 8. WARNE, 6T Patent-Leather Joe; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charmer. 175 Captain Arizonay or, Patent-Leather Joe's Big Game, 198 Captain Mask; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. 219 Dea«pard, the Duellat; cr, The Mountain Vompires, BSS A Tough Boy; or, The Dwarf’s Revenge. B63 Little Tornado; or, The Outcasts of the Glen, BIS Little Jingo; or, the Queer Pard. BSS Little Oh-my ¢ or, Caught in His Own Trap, 401 Little Shoo-F ly ¢ or, A Race fora Ranch. 408 Little Leather-Breeches ; or, Old Jumbo’s Curse, 481 Little Ah Sing or, The Curse of Blood, 451 Colorado Kate. A Tale of the olines. 430 Three Jolly Parda. 517 Jim Gladden’s Deputy. 527 The Jolly Pardes to the Rescue. $47 Sandy Andy; or, A Good Man Down, 556 Lariat Lil; or, The Cast for a Life. 574 Old Weasel-top, the Man with the Dogs, 598 Keen Clem, the Ranch Imp. 599 Jim Dandy the No-Name Sport. 618 Billy, Blazes; or, The Skeleton’s Legacy. } 685 Oklahoma Hi, the Blue-Coat Scout. 648 WUappy Marry’s Big Find. 664 Oheeky Charley, the Special. BY EDWARD WILLETT. 167 Asa Scott, the Steamboat Boy. 199 Featherweight the Boy Champion ofthe Muskingum. 223 Ozark Alf; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws, 282 The Typo Detective; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp, 295 Fearless Phil; or, The King of Quartzville. 811 The Roving Sport; or, The Pride of Chackalack Camp, 822 Nemo, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon’s Vendetta. 840 Clip the Contortioniast: or, The Montana Vigilantes. BY JO PIERCE. B9T Bob o’ the Bowery ; or, ThetPrince of Mulberry Street. 415 The Vagabond Detective; or, Bowery Bob’s Boom. 452 Hotspur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective. 460 The Lawyer’s Shadow; or, Luke’s Legacy. A472 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective, 504 Five Points Phil. 509 Jack Jagger, the Butcher Boy Detective. 516 Tartar Tim; or, Five Points Phil’s Menagerie, 626 North River Nat, the Pier Detective. 588 Wrestling Rex, the Pride ofthe Sixth Ward, 41 Jeff Flicker, the Stable Boy Detective, 551 Nick Nettle, the Boy Shadow. 559 Warlem Jack, the Office Boy Detective. 5869 Brooklyn Ben, the On-His-Own-Hook Detective. S77 Pavement Pete the Secret Sifter, 588 Jack-o’-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector. ROR, Wide-Awnke Bert, the Street-Steerer. 614 Whistling Jacob, the Detective’s Aid. 628 Back Bumblebee, the Harlewn Hummer. 689 Sunrise Saul, the Express-Train Ferret. 649 Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger; or, Scooping a Slippery Set. 658 Sky-Rocket Rob, the Life-Saver, 688 Saltpeter Sol, the New York Navigator, 694 Rpley Simy the Onlv One of His Kind 706 Tom Thistle, the Rovd-House Detective, T1Z Mosquito Jack, the Hustler Gamin, 726 Dennis Duff, the Brown Sport’s Kid. e BY J. W. OSBON, 469 The Rival Glant« of Nowhar’. 498 Cactu« Rurr, the Man from Hard Luck, HST Old Bunekeye, the Sierra Shadow. 564 Powder Phil, the Boy Miner. 609 Bolly Dorrit, the Veteran Detective, 620 Little Taghéning’s League} or, The Mydtery of tne Island, 638 Plucky Paul, the Boy Prospector. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Girl, 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 288 Joe Buck of Angela ona Ilis Boy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham, 458 New England Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling, 464 Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince. 498 ‘Taox Ted, toe Arizona Sport. 510 Cool Colorado, the Hall-Breed Detective. 518 Ovol Colorado in New York. 2 < BY GEORGE ©, JENKS, 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown. 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 The Demon Doctor. 581 Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. 5YS Flutes the Sinver Detective, 608 The Pitcher Detective’« Foil; or, Dan’s Double Play. 616 The Ocean Detectives or. The Last Cruise ofthe Black Bear. 681i The Pitcher Detective’« Toughest Tussel. @86 Larry, the Thoroughbred; or, Beaten on Every Side. BY J, C. COWDRIOK, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Gold King 3 or, For Seven Years Dead. 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Na.ne. 424 OCibuta John; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. £06 Redlight meter the Prince of the Road, 514 Broadway Billy’« Boodle. 524 The Engineer Detective. 586 Broadway Billy’« ‘ Difikilty.” 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 557 Broadway Billy’« Peath Racket. 671 Air-Line Luke the Young Engineer. 579 The Chimney Spy; or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party. 592 The Boy Pinkerton. 605 William 0’ Broadway; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning, 615 Fighting Henry the Chief of Chained Cyclone. 628 Broadway Billy’« Dead <Aet. 640 Barebsek Reth, the Centaur of the Circle. 647 Typewriter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgun, the *‘ Pizenest ’’ Man of Ante Baz. 669 Broadway Billy Abroad. 675 Broadway Billy's Beat; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest. 6ST Broadway Billy in Clover. 696 Broadway Billy In Texas. 708 Brondway Billy’s Brand. 711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe. 720 Broadway Billy’s Full Hand, 785 Broadway Billy’s Business. 788 Broadway Billy’s Curious Case. BY FREDERICK DEWEY 818 Cimarron Jack, the King-Pin of Rifle-Shots. 478 Tangemund, the Desert Detective. 5642 The Canyon Parda. BY ARTHUR C. GRISSOM. 440 Little Foxfoot, the Gold Bowie Kid. 558 The Sure-Shot Parda. 621 Truthful James, the ‘ Pecooliar” Man. BY MAJOR E. L. 8ST. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit. 801 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. 888 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 852. Tombatone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “ Sand,” B59 Duranvo Dave, the Youny Chany ion Wrestier. 871 Kingbolt Chris, the Young Hard-Shell Detective, BS0 Avalanche AIf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountwin Mail-Line. BY EDWARD 8. ELLIS. 6 Bil Biddon, Trapper. 8 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier, 30 Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. 21 ‘rne Frontier Angel. 98 The Boy Minera; or, The Enchanted Island, 182 The Hunted Hunter; or, The Strange Horseman, 254 The Half-Blood; o-. The Panther of the Plains, 271 The Huge Ilunter; or, The Steam Prairie Man, BY BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG. 89 Ialand Jim: or, The Pet of the Family. 91 The Captain of the Club; or. The Rival Athletes, 101 Jack Narkaway itn New York. BY MAJOR ITENRY B. STODDARD, Ex-Scout. 806 Neck-Tle Ned; or, The Dug-Out Pards. 846 Rapler Raphael: or, The Swordsmen of Zacatecas. $91 Kid-Glove Kit, the Dandy of the Rockies. 898 Kid-Glove Kit and Pard: or, The Gold King. 406 The Mad Man-Hunter: or, The Golden Gulch Mystery. 505 Powell’s Pard3 or, The One-Armed Giant. BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER. 15 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Page; or, The Doge’s Deughter. 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. 50 Lance and Lasso: or, The Chihiren of the Chaco. 564 The Sword Huntera; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders, 59 The Lost Captain; or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cruise. 00 The Boy Bedoutna; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance, 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Roemer the Anima) King; or, Round the World, 265 The Ticer Tamer ¢ or, The League of the Jungle. 881 Black Nick, the Demon Rider. 895 California Joe’* War Trail. ' RY COL, A. F. HOLT. 899 Rlack Ruckekin: or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon. 419 Kenneth, the Knife-King 485 Little Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods. 828 The Dandy Sport; or, The King Pin Conspirator. 678 Ralph Renwood, the Lightning Express Detective. 691 Weadlight Harry’s Haul, T27 Headlight Harry’s Siren. BY C. DUNNING CLARKE, * 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. 280 The Yankee Rajahy or, The Fate of the Black Shersef. BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 256 Young Kentuek: or, The Red Lasso, 270 Blizzard Ben; or, The Riot at Keno Camp. h 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot. ot BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Vellowstone Jack; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Koad-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Hurricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. 119 Mustang Sam ; or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-liawk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch. 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fightiug Fire with Fire. 184 The Boy Trailers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path. 208 The Boy Pards; or, Dainty Lance Unmaske, 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City, 810 The Barranca Wolf; or, The Beautifol Decoy, 819 The Black Rider}; or, The Herse-Thieves’ League, 885 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide : 855 The King of the Woods: or Dante! Koone’s Last Trail, .~ ¢ 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective 625 Chineapin Dan, the Roy Traller. 677 Chineapin Danh’s Second Trail. 688 Chincapin Dan’s« Home Stretch. 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without 1 Head. TOS Light-Heart Lute’s Legacy. 718 Light-Heart Lute’« Last Trail. 28 Silverblade, the Shoshone, 29 Silverblade, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beag'e at Bay, 89 Silverblade, the Hostile. BY JACK FARRAGUT. 815 Ned, the Cabin Boy. 820 The Sea Sorceress; or, The Boy Skipper. BY LIFUT. H. D. PERRY, U. 8. N. 176 The Boy Runaway ; or, The Buccaneer of the Bay. 180 The Sea Traller;: or, A Yow Well Kept. 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point, Aa BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 78 Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chief's Vengeanee., ; 87 The Land Pirates; or, The League of Devil’s Island, 187 The Helpless Hiands or, Backwoods Retribution. 289 The Gold-seeker Guide? or, The Lost Mountain, =, BY WILLIAM Rk, EYSTER, 4 \ ; 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards a BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR U. 8. A, 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo Bill's Bet; or. The Gambler Guide, L BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS, 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock. ) 568 The Dandy of Dodge. 576 The Silver Sport. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 589 Tom-Cat and Pard; or, The Dead Set at Silver Clty. 601 Happy Hana, the Dutch Vidoeg. 611 Bildad Barnacle, the Detective Hercules. 622 Texas Tom-Cat’s Triad 681 Tom Cat’s Terrible Task. 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph; or, Bleck Dan’s Great Combine. 646 Cowboy Gid, the Cattle-Range etective. 657 Warbling William, the Mountain Mountebank. 665 Jolly Jeremiahy the Plains Detective, 676 Signal Sam, the Lookout Scout. 689 Billy. the Gypsy Spy. 699 Staple Sim, the Broncto Buster. J 712 The Mesmerist Sport; or, The Mystified Detective. 788 Toltec Tom, the Mad Prospector, MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORA, 4 The Wild-lWorse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reio and , if Frederick Whittaker. t 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. _ 14 Aladdin3; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Illustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. : ‘ 22 The Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe, By Juan Lewis. 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees, By S, W. Pierce. 86 The Boy Clown: or, The Arena Queen, By F 8. Finn. “B88 Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. 61 The Boy Riffes; or, The Undérground Camp. By A. C. Irons. {95 The Rival Rovers; or, TheFreebooters of the Mississipp). By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine. 98 Robin Hood, the Vutiawed Ear); or, The Merry Men of Green~ wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. 112 The Mad Hunter; or, 'heCave of Death, By Burton Saxe. 124 Tippy. the Texan; or, The Young Champion. By George 7 Glesson. 128 The Young Privateer; or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By ” 8 Harry Cavendish. 148 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures of a Friendlees Boy. By J. Alexander Patten. bik 227 Dusky Darrell, eseee or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- j lowstone. By Edward Emerson. / 261 Fergus Fearnaught the New Y irk Boy. By 3.1L, Alken. ; 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; or, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail, BY By Ensign C, D. Warren. é ‘ : 298 Ked Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid ofthe Cliff, a Se By Captein Comstock. ae 817 Peacock Pete. the Lively Lad from Leadville. ‘By Lieu- “cis tenant Alfred Thorne. ee 828 The Sky Detective; or, 4 Boy’s Fight for Life and Honor, v By Maior Mickey Free. : v5 850 Red Ralph, the River Rover; or, Tne Brother’s Re- venge. By Ned Buntline. 4 865 Baltimore Ren the Bootblack Detective. By A. P. Morris,’ y 874 Gold-Puat Tom: or, Ben’s Dowhle Match. ByG@ H. Morse, he 4 e 876 Caillfornia Joe's First Trail. By Colonel Thomas ra {Na Hoyer Monstery. . ye) Wen 418 Billy Bombshell, the Sliff Climber. By #. S. Winthrop, $ 475 The Black Ship, By John S “Warner, 484 Comanche Dick and His Three Invinetblea, By Henrv J. Thomas. 582 The Cowbey Duke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest, 1 B52 Artel the Athlete. By David Droid. rsa i BRS WIT Waters, the Bov Ferret. By H. Enton. +. oe 682 The Dead Peteettve’« Double. By Gerald Carlton, e- — Nw 721 Maverick Mose, the Arizona Detective; or, The Wizaad or " Urkos Pass. By Will Lisenbee. — w Ha A New Iesue Every Tuesday. bw e a The Half-Dime stbrary is for ale by ail newsdealers, five 43 ae, cents cer copy, or sent by mall on receipt of alx cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publicwers, Fide me 98 William Street, New Yerk. |
Page 15
r ig 5 BOF iy ide-Awake Joe; or, BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels. 1 Deadwood 0 Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood * Deadwood Deadwood Dendwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. Dick’s Defiance; or, Double Daggers. Dick in Disguise; or, Bulfal, Ben Dick in His Castle. Dick’s Bonanza; o-, The Dick in Danger; or, Omaha Ol. Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar, Dick on Deck? or, Calamity 6 ne, the Heroine, WMek’s Last Acts or, Corduroy Charlie. «antom Miner, ee ROO Deadwood Dick in Leadville. | 404 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. Dick as Detective. Dick’s Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. Dick’s Home Base; or, Blonde Dill. Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. Dick’sa Dreamy or, The Rivals of the Road. Dick’s Wards or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel, Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Adventure. Dick’s Dend Deal. Dick’s Death-Plant. Pick. A Romance of Roughs and Toughss Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. Dick’s Death Trail. Dick’s Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. Pick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats Dick’s Ducats; or, Days in the Diggings. Dick Sentenced; or, he Terrible Vendetta, Dick’s Claim. Dick in Dead City. Dick’« Diamonda. Dick in New Yorks or, A “Cute Case.” ae Dust; or, The Chained Hand. dick, Jr. Dick, Jr.’a, Deflance. Dick, Full Hand. Dick, Bie Round-Up. Dick, Racket at Claim 10, Dick, Corral; or, Bozeman Bill. picks Dog Peteetive. ek. Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick. Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick, Diek, Dick, Dick, Dick, che Che mick: Dick. Deadwood Dendwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood 5 Dendwood Deadwood Deadwood Rit Deadwood Deadwood Gold-Duat Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood S62 Deadwood 405 Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood A459 465 Deadwood ATL Deadwood ATG Deadwood 481 Deadwood 491 Deadwood 496 Deadwood Deadwooa Deadwood 5 Deadwood Deadwood Deadweooa 584 Deadwood 589 Deadwood 644 Deadwood 549 Deadwood 554 Deadwood 561 Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Jr.’&s Jr., In Deadwood, Jr.’s, Compact. Jr.’s, Inheritance, drs, Diggings. Jr.'s, Deliverance, Jr.'s, Protegee. Jr.’s, Three. dr.’s, Danger Ducka, Jdr.’«, Death Hunt. Jr., in Texas, Jr., the Wild West Vidocg Jr., on Mis Mettle. Jr., in Gotham, Jr., in Boston, Jr., in Philadetphia. Jr., in Chicago. Jr., Aflont. Jdr., in Denver. drs, Decree, Jr., in Beelzebub’s Basin. Jdr., at Coney Island. Jrs, Leadville Lay. Jr., in Detroit. Jr., in Cincinnati. Jr., in Nevada, i in No Man’s Land. Dick, Jr., After the Queer. Dick, Jr., in_Baffalo. eng Jr, Chase Across the Continent ek, Diek, Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick, Dick, Deadwood Deadwood 5 Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Dead ood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood Deadwood b Deadwood Dick, 700 Deadwood Dick, TO4 Deadwood Dick, Deadwood Dick, Deadwood Dick, d Dick, dr. Jr., Among the Smugglers. Jr.’s, Lye suronece Case, Jr., Back in the Mines, dr., tn Durango; or, “ Gathered In.” Jr.’a, Discovery; or, Found a Fortune. dra, Dazzle, ig pei Jr., at Danger Divid Jr.’s, Drop. - Jr., at Jack-Pot. Jr., in San Francisco, Still Hunt. Dominoes. Diaguine. Double Deal. Deathwatch. Doublet. dr.’s, Jr.'s, Jr.'s, Jr.'s, Deadwoo 28 Deadwood Dick, 84 Deadwood Dick, 40 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, 47 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 WHll Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune lete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred, 152 Black Beas, Will Wildfire’s Racer. 57 Mike Merry the Harbor Police Boy. 162 Will wes re an Shey coae a mre, the Kallroad Boy. W38 Say eRard: or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses. 174 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York, 14179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden Hand} or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge. 487 Fred Halyard, the Life Bont Boy; or, The Smugglers. kKett; or, Driven to the Wall. 489 Bob Rockett} Kockett’s Fight for Life. = 170 A Trump Dandy Detective. or, The Black Sheep of the Flock, 5 Sam Charcea 285 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway : or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 62 The Young Sharps: or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail, Jim, the Detective bg Paaae 289 Jolly Jim’s Jobs or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Moundy: or, The Young Thoroughored. Paketay or, A Western Lad in Quaker City, 824 Ralph Ready, the Hote) Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. B58 The Reporter-Petectives or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. A Boy of the Times. arry, the Leyeler: or. The Bloods of the Boulevard, 408. Vireily Jack, the River-Rat Detective. The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier. § Fred liyer, the Reporter Detective. 2 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 B ly Brick, the Jolly Vagavond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. AT9 Detective Dodire: or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boota, the Rey Fireman: or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, BES The Seerct “eryice Boy Detective. 5968 Jimmy the Kids or, A Lamb Among Wolves. 627 Tom Rruee of Arkansnut or, The Wolf in the Fold. 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Speculator. 66 b and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. : 7 Ourbstone Detective; or, Harry Hale’s Big Beat} $05 Pashaway, of 5 “a | / ‘ Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. : = r = ewan “nar = ee I ESE Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. ®? The Flying Yankee}; or, The Ocean Outcast. 82 Beb Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot. } 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccan. er; or, The Fugitive Yacht. 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 24 Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 45 Old Avatanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants. 6S Jim Bludsoe, Jr., tle Boy Phenix. 75 The Boy Dnelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. | 102 Dick Dead-Evye, the Boy Smuggier. 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter; or, The Boy Detective. 111 The Sea-Devil; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 116 The Iussar Captiain 3 or, The Hermit of Hell Gate. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner} or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 197 Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 204 Gold Plume; or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Express Rider. 92 Canada Chet; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 216 Bisen BILL, the Prince of the Reins; or, Butiato Biil’s Pluck. 96 Watch-Eyes or, Arabs und Angels of a Great City. 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. 229 Crimson Kates; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 245 Merle, the Middy 3; or, The Freelance Heir. 125 Bonanza [ill, Minor. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, 188 Bossa Bob the King of Bootblacks, / 264 The Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure. 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective. / 276 Merle Monte’s Craise; or,“ The Gold Ship ” Chase. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 280 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pearl, the Pirate’s Bride, 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scamps, 284 The Sea Marauder} or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo, 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 209 Fritz, tho Bound-Boy Detective. 804 The Dead Snot Dandy; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. 226 Snoozer, the Boy Sharp; or, The Arab Detective. 814 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Trail. 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 877 Bonodel, the Buy Rover; or, The Flogiéss Schooner. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young G)adiato: B88 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island. 244 Sierra Sam, tho Frontier Ferret. 887 Warpath WII, the Boy Phantom. 248 Sierra Sam’a Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 898 Seawaif, the Boy Lieutenant. 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Angel of Big Vista. 402 Isodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League, 258 Slerra Sain’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 278 Jumbo Joe, the "oy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 412 The Wild Vachtamany or, The War-Cloua’s Cruise. 277 Denver Doll, tic Detective Queen. 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 281 Denver Doll's * ictory. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, Tae Corsair. 255 Denver Doll’s Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza. 487 The Sea Ralder. 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. 441 The Ocean Firefly: or, A Middy’s Vergeance, 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or. The Road Queen. 446 Haphazard Harry ; or, Tne Scapegrace of the Sea. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 450 Wizard Will: or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 808 *Liza Jane, the Zirl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. 454 Wizard Will's Strect Scouts, 825 Kelley, Hickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia. 462 The Born Gulde; or, The Saiior Boy Wanderer, 880 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Conster. 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner, 74 Flora; or, Wizard Will's Vagabond Pard. $89 Kangaroo Kit’« Racket. ASS Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will’s Last Case. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Ulood. 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger 858 First-Class Fred, the Gent trom Gopher. 495 Arizona doe the Boy Parad of Texas Jack. B68 Vreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherery or, The Life Lottery. 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys- 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. 508 The Royal Middy : or, The Shark and the Sea Cat. 878 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. 507 The Itunted Midshipman, 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 611 The Outlawed Middy. 885 Yreka Jim’s Jokers or, The Rivals of Red Nose, 620 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. 889 Bicycle Bens or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 525 Brothers In Buckskin. 894 Vreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 530 The Buckskil) Bowers. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch* Detective. 585 The Buc skin Rovers. 416 Wigh iat Marry, the Base Ball Detective. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rio. 426 Sam Slabsides, the Beggar-Boy Detective. 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, B50 Lafitte’s Legacy: or. The Avenging Son. 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher, 655 The Creole Corsair. 486 Sealskin Sam, the Sparkler. 560 Pewnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. BY T. C. HARBAUGH, 570 Camille, the Card Queen. 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of 76. bSO The Outcast Cedct; or, The False Detective. 87 The Hidden Lodge}; or The Little Hunter. 586 The Buckskin Avenger. 47 Nightingale Nat ; or, Toe Forest Captains, 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea-Rover, 64 Dandy Jacky or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trails, 597 The Voung Texan Detective. 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 602 Tho Vagabond ofthe Mines. 94 Midnight Jack; or, The Boy Trapper, 607 The Rover Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout; or, The Rio Raiders. 128 Kiewa Charley the White Mustanger. 644 The Hercules Highwayman, 189 Judge Lynch Jr. or, The Boy Vigilante. 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Kiaer Detective; or, Buffalo 155 Gold Trigger, the Sport; er, The Girl Avenger. Bill’s Boy Para. 169 Tornado Toms or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 656 Butterfly Billy’s Man Frunt. 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy, 662 Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza. 198 Arkansaw ¢ or, The Quecn ot Fate’s Revenge. 668 The Buccaneer Midshipman. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 674 The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade. 679 The Sen Shadower}; or, The Freebooter’s Legacy. Pet Beene Phil; or, Rosa, the Rei veoeetle 686 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag; or, The Tarnished Name. 2 Bill Bravo; or, Toe Roughs of the Rockies. « ; ‘ Satta Re ori 355 Captain Apoli > tne King-Pin of Bowle. 692 The Rival Sharps; or, Redfern, the Secret Service Scout, 267 The Buckskin Detective, 697 The Scarlet Sombrero; or, The Sharp from Texas, 279 Old Winch; or, The tuckskin Desperadoes, 70: “k $ or, The Rec angers’ ¥ Sok Denamite Par.t or; The Bowle Blade of Gochetopa. . od Blue Jacket Bill; or, on Red Hat panes aa Hot Racket 802 The Mountain Detective: or, The Trigger Bar Bully. 707 The Red Sombrero Rangers; or, Redfern’s Last Trail. 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona. 718 Carl, the Mad Cowboy; or, The Lariat Queen. « vv » Te > age 7 J ro ‘akaeN. BGG Tle Henson's er, Tis Qrern ofthe Lava, 719 Pawnee Bill's Pledges «, The Cowhoy Kidaapper. 845 Pitiless Matt; ov, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret. 725 Daring Dick, Pawnee Bill’s Pard; or, The Red Cavalry Raid. B56 Coat ham and Par’; or The Terrible Six. vd > . » Girl Shadow BEG Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. secs Ruth Re dmond, asc inl Spuaewer. B86 Captain Cutlass; or, ' he B-ccaneer’s Girl Foe. 787 Buck Taylor, the Comanche’s Captive. sor ones mob § or, The 1 win Champions of Blue Blazes, he Silken Lassot or, The Rose of Ranch Robin. r hy 418 Felix oe the Boy Spotters BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody). 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. » 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 8 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. G01 Que Against itty obs ast Man of Kone Bi. 5B Deadhy-Eye, she Unknown Sout. 3 $ or, . azz The Excelslor Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rever. 99 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 8 Fan Fr 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 15 ey ank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trust. 344 Dodger Dick, ts w ecg Detective, 1 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge, 528 Fox ana Falcon, the Bowery Shadows. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. BBS Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. by BAS Dodeer Dick’s Double: or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 742 Billy Winks, the Bell Boy Detective; or, Breaking the B58 Dodeer Dick’s Desperate Case, Meshes of the Golden Coil. By T. C, Harbaugh. 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocq. 748 Buck Taylor’s Boys; or, The Red Riders of the Rie 5678 The Two Shadows. Grande. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 5S2 Dodger Dick’ Drop. % 4 eRe 7 7 694 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 744 Dick of the Docks, the Night-Watch; or, The Water 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard. Wait’s Dead Past, By Jo Pierce. 626 The Champion Pards, 745 Kanaas Jim, the Cross-Out Detective; or, The Raiders of the ts ia ee? the Dock Boy Detective. Range. By Lieut. A. K, Sims. 658 Bitty, Tt clr et Seal 746 Quict Fack, the Secret Service Spy; or, Too Much for Red " ; ‘ “ Leary. By Dun Dunning, (of the Secret Serviee Corps). 671 Jersey Jed, the Boy Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadower. ‘ > 685 Wappy Hugh, the Boy Musician Detective. TAT DeadwoodDick, JIr.’a, Doublet; or, The Tandem Team sy ite G4 Keds the Camera Sharp. of Teddy’s Tailings. By Edward L. Wheeler, (Hh de Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret. : 748 Bilverblade, the Friendly; or, The Bord le’s Boy Z8X Daisy Dell, the Pavement Detective; or, Trapping Big Game. | SS Ee Bea epee we r T4A9 Pashine Charlie, the Young Scalp-Taker; or, The Kentucky bina 'a vb ss M. G. PATTEN. Tendertoot’s First Trail. By Col Prentiss Ingraham. ; B19 Hirata ed vetariy x arene Face of Bed Rock. | 750 Violet _ Vane, the Vangnished; or, The Life Struggle at BR1 Daluy ware the Sport trom Denver. ayy ie Oe Pg ab araaecage apres 5ST Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. 751 Gold-Pust Dan, the Trail Patrol. By Joha W. Osbon. 604 Tron Ferny, the Man of Fire. Ready December 15. 619 The Boy Tramp Detective: or, The Doubie Grip Witness | T52 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Deathblow; or, The Little 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Spor. Cirens at Tast Chance. By Edw Thea | ¢ mM hance, y Edward L. Wheeler, 641 Dismal Pave’s Dandy Pard. Ready December 22 f ‘ coe Be ' wor Lig yep the Young Amateur Detective a ale anc’a Vietory. New - 682 Wild Vulcan, the Lore-Range Rider, A Rew jetne: Myer, eeneey, hd wii od Wainy. the P ay Pards. The Half- Dime Library 1s for sate by all newsdealers, five 405 ole ane’a Vow: or, The Crafty Detec Craft. ; els Old Misery, the San Soak Missouri te tive’ cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, ; Violet Vane’s Vengeance, VD TBO Violet Vane’s Verdict, BEADLE AND ADAMA, Publishers, Z41 Violet Vane, the Ventriloquist Vidoeg. 98 William Street, New York. . F * a at see
Page 16
Deadwood Dick Novels in Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. 1 Deadwood Dick. the Prince of the Road. 20 Deadwood Dick’s Defiance; or, The Double Daggers. 28 Deadwood Dick in Disguise; or, Buffalo Ben, the Prince of the Pistol, 85 Deadwooi Dick in his Castle; or, Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval, 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; or, The Phantom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omaha Oll, the Masked Terror, 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. %3 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine of Whoop-up, %7 Deadwood Dick’s Last Act; or, Corduroy Charlie, the Boy Rover. 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville; or, A Strange Stroke for Liberty, 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Sign of the Double Cross. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s Gulch. 188 Deadwood Dick’s Home Base; or, Blonde Bill. 149 Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; The Picked Party. 195 Deadwoed Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road, 201 Deadweed Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hills Jezebel, 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Adventure, 217 Deadwood Dick’s Dead Deal; or, Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. 921 Deadwood Dick’s Death Plant; or, Sugar- Coated Sam. 232 Gold-Dust Dick; or, The Three Wild Men of Kagle Bar. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail: or, From Ocean to Ocean, or, 809 Deadwood Dick’s Big Deal: or, The Gold Brick of Gregon. $21 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 347 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days_in the Diggings. 351 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta, 862 Deadwood Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro Flats. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds; or, The Mystery of Joan Porter. 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A Cute Case. 430 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand, 443 Deadwood Dick, Jr.; or, The Sign of the Crimson Crescent, Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Defiance; or, Nickle- Plate Ned. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Full Hand; or, Sun- flower Sam of Shasta. ‘ Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Big Round-up; or Flush Fan, the Ferret. 5 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Racket at Claim 10; or: Philo Fly, of Phenix. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Corral; or, Bozeman Bill of Big Brace. | Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dog Detective; or, Humboldt Harry, the Hurricane. ge Bhs Dick, Jr., in Deadwood; or, Moll Mystery. Deadwood Dick, JT."8; Compact; or, Prince Pistol, the King of the West. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Inheritance; or, Monte Cristo, Jr. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Diggings; or, Doctor Death Grip’s Swoop. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, 491 496 Deliverance; or, Fata] Footsteps, Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Protege; or, Baby Bess, the Girl Gold Miner. 522 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Three; or The “ Bel- lerin’ Bull” of Bismark. 529 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Danger Ducks; or, The Owls of Oregon, 534 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt; or, The Way of the Tranusgressor, 589 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Texas; or, The Ghouls of Galveston. 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidocq; or, Leonora, the Locator. 549 Deadwood Dick, Jr., on His Mettle; or, Cap- tain Crimson-Cow], the Road Raider. 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham; or, Un- ravelinga Twisted Skein, 561 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Boston; or, The Cool Case. 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia; or, The Wild West Detective among the Crooks. 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago; or, The Anarchist’s Daughter. 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat; or, The Prisoner of the Weird Isles. 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in, Denver. or, Cool Kate, the Queen of Crooks, 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr,’s, Decree; The Prince of Purgatory Pass, 505: Deadwood Dick, Jr, in Beelzebub’s Basin; or, The Old Mari of Mount Mab. 600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney Island; or, The “ Piping” of Polly Pilgrim, 606 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Leadville Lay; or, Bristol and Bucket’s Boom. 612 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Detroit; or, Turning the Tables on Satan. 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Cincinnati; or, The Clincher Campaign, or, he 624 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Nevada; or, The Preacher of Pokerville, 630 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land; or, Golconda, the Gladiator. 636 Deadwood Dick, Jr., After the Queer; or, Sawdust Sam’s Last Green Game, 642 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Buffalo; or, 4-11-44 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Chase across the Con- tinent; or, A Race fot a Ruthless Rogue, Deadwood Dick, Jr., Among the Smugglers or, Cleaning Out the Gulf Gang. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Insurance Case; or, Corraling a Cunning Trio. 36 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines; or, The Mountain Amazon’s Double Game, 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Durango; or, ** Gathered In,” 678 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Discovery; or, Found a Fortune, 684 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dazzle; or, The Nemesis of Nutmeg Bonanza. 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dollars; or, The Hummingbird of Honeysuckle. 695 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Danger Divide; or, Developing the Dead Secret. 700. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Drop; or, The So- journ at Satan’s Spring. %04 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-pot; or, Mak- ing Crooked Things Straight, 710 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in San Francisco; or,. Kodak Kate, the Snap-Shot. 716 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Still Hunt; er, The Second Round in San Francisee, 722 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dominoes; or, The Rival Camps of the Northern Border. 728 Deadwood) Dick, Jr.’s, Disguise; er, Ivan, the Man of Iron. %34 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Double Deal; or, The All-Around Surprise, 740 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Deathwatch; or, The Moving Mystery at Mexican Mustang. 74% Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Doublet; or, The Tandem Team of Teddy’s Tailimgs. For sale by all newsdealers at five cents per copy, or sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 98 William Street, New York,