Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 598) (1889 01 08)
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SECOND EDITION. = WN WYO = la ~ fl \ ang we Ww. W \\ ak | Ly ] Ie tak ac ee a i =P (a |! i | Come .. Ay -& Eatered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. Copyright 1888, by BEADLS AXED ADAMB, January 8, 1889, nL EE SEES Pw es ekg ANG Td $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, No. 598. a Year. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. Vol. AAT, | tl | I il A Vj ti i SUA i Hil i] il ! Mb) 2 K ; i HUTT Hii vi | I nil i Ai i ANIA wT ii ; | aa Z \\ \\ y | WHI i | i Mi [ ; “Wl A Sel | si ii la i ‘ill MAI “Gi Tar” ae BY GEO. C, JENKS, AUTHOR OF ‘*‘ DOUBLE-CURVE DAN,” “GIT THAR OWNEY THE UNKNOWN,” ‘GIT THAR OWNEY’S PLEDGE,” * THE DEMON DOCTOR,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. 4 RASCALLY SCHEME DEFEATED, THE Euterpia Theater, New York, was light- ed up for the coming performance. It was a quarter to eight, and the curtain was to rise at eight o'clock for the presentation 4 Gilbert and Sullivan’s comic opera, ‘‘ The ikado.” “I SAVED YOU FROM THE VILLAIN!” SHE GASP E}), AS, OVERCOME WITH EXUITE- The auditorium was nearly filled, and the MENT, SHE FELL FAINTING INTO THE Y!)UNG SINGER'S ARMS. a webers were skipping up and down bhe aisleg,
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ies 2 seatiag those who preferred to wait until nearly time for the opening chorus before entering the theater. All was bustle, life and light, and parquette, boxes and dress circle were rapidly becoming a sea of faces, shining with anticipa- tion of pleasure to come. The members of the orchestra were filing into their chairs one by one, tuning their instruments and chatting with each other, waiting until the leader, in all the magnificence of evening dress, white tie and hair painfully brushed and scented, should condescend to make his appear- ance, On the stage, behind the curtain, the busy note of preparation was being sounded. The scene, a Japanese garden, with plenty of fans, umbrellas and lanterns of many-colored paper, had been ‘‘ set,” the stage-carpenter dodging here and there, putting the finishing touches. A few young men and girls, members of the chorus, in the quaint Japanese costumes now so familiar to every one through ‘‘The Mikado,” strolled about the stage exchanging a few words of badinage with the stage hands or telling each other that they were ‘“‘frightfully out of voice to-night,” while the stage-manager, a short fussy man witha flabby face, who would later in the evening appear as the Mikado walked backward and forward in his shirt-sleeves per- spiring profusely, as he looked to see that every- thing was all right. “Orchestra in! First act!” he bawled, and the elegant leader, who had been peeping at the audience through a small hole in the curtain, made a frantic dive for a narrow, crooked stair- case that led below the stage in one corner. A moment later he emerged, smiling and serene, in the orchestra, and sat down to his piano. ‘*Mr. Graul,” exclaimed the principal _come- dian, dressed for Koko, the Lord High Execu- tioner, ‘‘ before you ring up the curtain, you had better tell us what we are going to do fora leading ‘tenor to-night.” ‘* What do you mean?” asked the fussy stage- manager, shortly ; ‘* where’s Piper?” “Sick.” “Sick? Sick?, Why didn’t he sav so before? Where is he? Tl fine him $10. What does he mean by getting sick five minutes before the curtain goes up? Sick, indeed! Doesn’t he know that we haven’t a tenor in the company that can sing the music of Nanki-Poo?” ‘“*Guess he does.” answered the comedian, coolly. ‘I thought Td just tell you, however. He is sitting in his dressing-room, with a flannel bandage around his throat, and a voice that can’t go above a whisper. He thought he would be all right by this evening, but he has got worse.” | about singing? Flute, the Singer Detective. Poor Graul was hotter and flabbier than ever. ‘Where cau I get a tenor!” he wailed piti- fully. ‘*T will sing for you !” The offer was in a clear, boyish voice, and | came from the lips of a bright young fellow, about twenty years of age, dressed in blue over- alls and the general habiliments of a scene- shifter. He had a ruddy complexion, piercing gray eyes, and a wealth of blonde curls, which | showed themselves under the old hat he wore like the nimbus of a saint, ‘‘What is your name? What do you know How long have you been em- ployed in the theater?” The young fellow answered the three questions one after the other in regular order. ‘*My name is Arthur Graham, but I have been nicknamed Flute! I have been a member of a musical society for seven years, and have sung the role of Nanki-Poo in the Mikado three times in amateur performances. This is my first night in this theater. The stage-carpenter Long before the comedian had finished his re- | marks the stage manager was in the tenor’s dressing-room. He found that artist sitting disconsolately on a trunk, half-dressed for his part in the opera, and wondering what he should do when the time came for him to sing. ‘* Well, Piper, what is this I hear about your being sick?’ blurted out Graul, as he entered the stuffy little dressing-room. ‘“My voice has gone back on me,” answered Piper, in a wheezy whisper. he stage-manager’s mouth opened in dismay as he heard the wheeze, and he rushed away to the stage to see what he could do about filing Piper’s place, It was out of the question that he should attempt to sing to-night. The orchestra was rattling away on the over- ture, and the magnificent leader was watching for thei signal from bebind the footlights to play the music that accompanies the rise of the curtain for the opera, The members of the chorus were crowded on the stage—its male contingent in the half-circle ready to sing their opening number, “ We're entlemen from Japan, while the girls were fudélled behind the wing to wait for their cue. With the eye of a veteran Peter Graul looked over the group of men and shook his head. ‘* There isn’t one of them that could do it,” he muttered, ‘‘even if he knew the music.” Then aloud: ‘‘ Will any of you do the leading tenor part, Nanki-Poo, to-night?” No cne volunteered, and raul shrugged his shoulders in despair, when one little fellow, with a remarkably thin, discordant voice, who was retained in the company only because his sister was a useful member, offered to do the part, The stage-manager fairly howled at this, and the young man retreated to the ranks and was heard no more. The situation was a desperate one. The audi- ence were getting impatient, and were manifest- ing the fact by i it and shuffing their feet. Something must be done promptly. took me on as an extra.” ‘‘Humph! I'll have to try you. Come with me to the dressing-room and get into the clothes,” He walked rapidly across the stage, and then, telling the young man to wait a moment, ran back to the place where the curtain-bell hung, and rung up the curtain. Then, as the opening chorus of the opera arose in a Justy burst of harmony, he led the new tenor to the dressing- room, and with his own hands assisted him to put on the costume of Nanki-Poo. ‘“* Sure re know the music and all about it?” whispered Graul, as he stood in the wings by the side of the new tenor, who was waiting until his time came to go on, The young man did not answer. His eyes were fixed npon the face of a man standing be- hind a wing on the opposite side of the stage who, made up hideously for Pooh-Bah, ha taken off his Japanese wig and revealed a luxu- riant head of hair, pure white. ‘*Who is that man?” he asked, with a des- perate effort to control his voice. “What man? Never mind atout him iow, Keep your thoughts on your business, or you'll break down,” returned the stage-manager, im- patiently. “* But—tell me—who is he? I think I have seen him before,” persisted the other, ‘*T dare say you have seen him before. He has been a member of this company for some time. Hisname is Roundel—Norman Roundel. Now, goon, There’s your cue.” A slight push from Graul, and Arthur Gra- ham was before the audience! He walked gracefully toward the footlights, and, after a few words spoken, prepared to sing his first solo, “A wandering minstrel, I, a thing Of sbreds and patches,” rung out a voice, clear and sweet as a bell, as the young man proceeded with the ballad that every one knows us one of the most takIng that Gilbert & Sullivan ever produced. ‘Flute! Yes, indeed, that’s his name,” ejac- ulated Graul, delightedly, as the audience burst into a perfect hurricane of applause, ‘‘I never heard such a voice in comic opera before, It is as sweet and clear as a flute.” The fussy stage-manager did not trouble him- self any further about the new tenor, now. hastened to his own dressing-room, and was soon ' painting away at his face and putting on the costume worn by the Mikado. At last Nanki-Poo came off the stage. As he did so he almost stumbled over the regular tenor, Ezra Piper; who was sitting on a low stool just behind a wing. ** You sung that very well,” said Ezra, in his wheezing whisper. ‘‘ Allow me to congratulate you.” He put out his hand. Graham took it, but let it fall, It was cold and clammy, and the young man could not repress a shudder. -‘*T guess you are not well,” he observed, try- ing to speak 5 poem & * Not very,” was the answer, as Graham pass- ed on to get a glass of water, for his throat was hot and parched. As the young fellow walked away, Norman Roundel stepped over to Ezra Piper and whis- pered something in his ear. ae started. ‘ Are you sure ?” he gasped, huskily. * Quite. And what’s more, I belies he knows us, and is in this*theater for nothing else than to pipe our lay !” As Norman Roundel uttered these age to words he snarled like a wolf-dog, making him- self look absolutely demoniacal in his Japanese make-up. ee ee - - ‘¢ But why should he come here?” asked Piper, as, the act over and the curtain down, he moved into a dark corner with Roundel. “Simple enough. He wants to keep a close watch, and he thinks he can spot usif he stays in the theater.” ‘* What shall we do?” ‘Shut bim off, right away.” “ How?” Norman Roundel took from his belt a keen dagger that he wore in the character of Peoh- Bah, and felt its edge and point significantly. ‘*Wouldn’t do!” wheezed Ezra—‘* unless he was to attack me first. Then it would be self- defense.” “I havo it,” exclaimed Roundel, after a pause, “ Well?” ‘“‘T have made it a point to become very fa- miliar with this stage.” “Yes?” ‘* T will go below and take out the supports of that center trap. You get bim in conversation and see that he walks across it. Then—” A significant wink finished the sentence, ‘* But—isn’t it dangerous—for us, I mean?” ‘‘ Ezra, you were always a white-livered cur, If you weren’t such a good workman with the drill and jimmy I would have sbaken you, long ago. This fellow knows us, I tell you, and we must stop his coming to the theater or going anywhere else for a week or two.” “ He might break his back if he falls down there,” whined Ezra. ‘How bad that would be.’ Roundel grinned, and Piper pulled down the corners of his lips derisively. Then the former went down below the stage to do his part in the nefarious job, and Piper looked around for Flute, as everybody on the stage was already calling the new tenor. As the conspirators moved out of the corner a young girl, ina neat street costume, stepped from behind a dusty scene, and, with parted lips, through which the breath came quickly and convulsively, gazed sternly after them, ‘The villains!” she whispered, with her pretty white teeth tightly clinched. “I'll foil them. He’s too nice a young man to suffer at their hands.” She blushed slightly, even though there was no one to hear her expressed admiration of the new tenor. ‘¢ T must be quick,” she added. ing to do it right now.” The stage bands had firisbed setting the scene for the second act, and the girl, looking at the center trap, saw it tremble silgbtly. Roundel was ready for his victim! Ezra Piper was walking toward it, holding the new tenor by the arm, and talking to bim earnestly, with the object of preventing the lat- ter from noticing his steps carefully. Surely, but apparently unconsciously, Piper was walking toward the trap. The young girl was on the other side of the stage. She could not warn the young stranger; he would not un- derstand her. The two men had now reached the edge of the trap, when for some reason Arthur Graham “They're go- sto ; the irl saw Piper try to force bis companion upon the trap, and saw the latter resist. She flew across the intervening space, seized Piper by the arm, and, with a sudden twist, pushed him upon the trap. There was a rattle, a crash, a smothered cry, and Ezra Piper sunk out of sight into the dark pit below the stage, X “1 saved you from the villain!” she gasped, as, overcome with excitement, she fell fainting into the young singer’s arms. CHAPTER Il. TIGER JIM’S WARNING. ‘“‘Hartoa! Halloa! What's all this?” de- manded the fassy stage-manager, as in the grotesque dress of the Mikado, he bustled to the spot, Pe A snake crushed by this little girl,” answer- ed Arthur, “ and I think she’s crushed him very effectively. ‘Well, well, that’s strange! I don’t know just what you mean. But—-but—clear the stage. Second act! We can’t wait. Bob, fix that. trap! That’s right. Blanche, get up ére! He shook the young girl, but she was utterly unconscious, and no amount of shaking had any effect upon her, “ Well, well, carry her off, Mr.—Mr.—Flute. We cannot stop the performance. Here, second act, everybody! Get nary Fa : The young mancarried the young girl—whom
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ln le oe Ae — Oe a re - and be fell in a disgruntled heap upon Roundel, Flute, the Singer Detective. raul had addressed as Blanche—to a dressing- room that opened on the stage, where she could be attended by some of the chorus girls, and then looked around for Piper, just as the curtain rose again, and the opera went merrily on. And where was Piper? When he dropped through the trap, he clutched wildly at anything that might save | him, but everything slipped away from him, who had not had time to get out out of the way, and who stood immediately below. The only light came from a gas-jet, turned very low, that blinked in a small wire cage sev- eral feet away. Roundel, expecting nothing less than to see Piper fall into the snare laid for the new tenor, and furious because he had himself been com- pelled to sustain the shock of the falling body, struck out with all his force at Piper, and knocked him over a heap of dirty armor—hel- mets, breastplates, etc., stored in a corner. ‘* What in thunder are you doing, Mr. Roun- del? Don’t you know me?” ** Piper?” ‘Yes, Piper, and all broken up,” wheezed that person. “* Where is the other fellow?” ‘*On the stage, I guess. He’s all right.” 7 Curse him! How did he manage to fool ms?” “He couldn't have done it himself, but that | girl, Blanche Rogers, came along and gave | me a shove just when I bad him where I want- him. The consequence was that—” | *“ You fell down the hole,and Blanche and Flute, as he calls himself, are laughing at you.” Piper clinched his fist. xf Took out. Let us get away from here. We don’t want anybody to know that I sprung this trap,” added Roundel, as he saw the stage-car- penter coming down the narrow stairs. The two men stepped aside, and as soon as the carpenter, with many expressions of wonder- ment as to how the trap had become unfastened, had propped it up securely again, they sneaked up the stairs and separated. Roundel, in his character of Poo-Bah, got ready to go on the scene, and Piper went to his dressing-room to wait for him. From the door of the dressing-room he could look across the stage, and note every triumph of the new tenor, who was playing his part so successfully. ‘* That isn’t the only thing you are doing on cue,” he muttered. ‘I wonder.what you are here for, at all? I guess Roundel is Tight, and you are playing the spy act on us. ell, wait awhile, Ezra Piper, and if you fiad him out, it is easy enough to fix him.” There was a drawing back of the thin lips as he said this that made Mr. Piper look rather more unprepossessing than usual. “« Halloa, Blanche!” he exclaimed, a few mo- ments later, as he saw the girl, with a white face, making her way across the stage, at the back of the scenes. ‘* You look sick.” The only answer was a look of unutterable disdain. ‘‘ Oh, now, Blanche, you needn’t be so stiff with me. I have more reason to be offended than you. You might have broken my neck when you pushed me down that trap.” ‘*T did not push you down the trap.” ** You didn’t?” “ No.” “How do you explain that? You gave me a shove and made me step on it, and it let me down didn’t you?" ‘Very well then, That is what I say.” “ But, who fixed the trap so that it would rags *“ How should J know?” ‘Ezra Piper, you do know, and you want to murder that young man, Flute!” Piper laughed uneasily. ‘* What makes you think so?” ‘* I know it!” and her flushed face showed her nger,. ‘* Well, never mind, Blanche; you will know better some mph Let me take you home. You don’t want to hang about the theater all the evening when you are not singing, I suppose?” “Ezra Piper,” said the girl, slowly, ‘“‘you have asked me several times whether I will not tolerate you. You seemed so much in earnest that I did not. like to be cruel, but to-night I a will tell you that you must not to me again. | hate and despise you. Is that plain enough?” The young girl’s blue eyes flashed and she tossed her golden-crowned head as she said this with an energy that left no doubt of her sin- cerity. Ezra looked at her several moments with a lowering brow, and the thin lips parted and showed his teeth, as he snarled: ‘Blanche Rogers, this is the last time I shall speak to you until—until—you will be only too lad to speak to me. Remember what I say! his new fellow has come here and has carried you away at the first glance. You have thrown me over for him, and I will get even with both of P hg i e shut: the dressing-room door with a bang, and the young girl, with a smile curling her pretty lip, walked carelessly away. She stood and watched the progress of the opera. Flute bad already established himself as a strong favorite with the audience, and his triumph was complete. ‘“*T wonder why Piper and Roundel wanted to burt bim,” she thought. ‘‘ Couldn’t be only professional jealousy on Piper’s part, He never took enough interest in his work for that, And Roundel? He isn’t jealous of the new tenor. No, ! there is some deeper reason, andI am going to find out what it is. I know those two men and I am going to warn Flute before he leaves the theater to-night.” The opera was drawing to a close, and the young girl, who was a member of the chorus, ut she had been excused from singing that night at her special request, stood ready to speak to the new tenor as soon as the curtain should fall. ‘* Flute, eh?” she muttered. ‘I like to call him by that name, It is only a nickname, but it fits him exactly. His voice is splendid.” The final chorus was being sung now, and as the catchy music crashed through the theater, the voice of Flute rose high above everything, sweet and clear, fairly thrilling the soul of the young girl. He saw her as soon as the curtain was down. ‘* How are you?” he asked kindly, taking her hand in his, ‘* Very well; I was a little excited when I saw your danger, but I can assure you that I do not often faint away.” i ‘‘Tam glad to hear it,” he replied cheerfully. * How will you get home? Have yeu anybody to take you? ‘* Well, no,” hesitatingly. ‘‘Mr. Piper has generally escorted me, but I shall not avail my- self of his services any more.” ** Indeed? May I have the pleasure?” A grateful smile was the answer, and the young man hastened away to change his dress, * Piper, how long will it take your throat to get well?’ asked the fussy stage-manager. Ezra had been standing with Roundel watch- ing the conversation between Flute and Blanche, and both men were evidently ill-pleased with the friendship that had sprung up between the new-comer and the girl. Piper started as Graul addressed him, and an- swered, absently, ‘‘I don’t know. A week, I suppose,” ‘All right—all right. Then Ill get—what’s his name—Flute—to do your part in the mean time.” Graul sailed off to his dressing-room, and Ezra and Roundel continued their conversation. “That job must be done to-morrow night, sure, Kzra. Everything is ready forit, There will be a fortune in it for us if we do it up right. I have the watchman fixed, His cousin that he expects from Ireland, and whom he has never ag) arrive at the house about midnight.” **And the cousin will have a little real old poteen from Tipperary, that has never paid a cent of duty. Do you see? The cousin will send around to the bank for the watchman to come home and taste the poteen.” ¢ “ Yes?” ‘*He won't keep the watchman more than a few minutes, he'll say. Weill, the watchman will go home, and the poteen will be very good. and the cousin will be a good fellow, and—and I think the watchman will be away from the bank long enough for us to do the job.” Ezra nodded, and then both grinned. ,The stage was almost dark now. As is cus- tomary in every theater, the lights had been turned out as soon as possible, to save the gas. aud only one or two jets relieved the gloom o the great stage. ea? As Roundel moved away to his dressing-room he came face to face with Flute. He looked at the young man for a second, and then, as he passed him, managed to turn back the lapel of the undercoat that was almost con- cealed under a heavy ulster, rr Ss 3 A small disk of silver shone in the rays of an adjacent gas jet. It was not larger than a half dollar but it was enough for Roundel. ‘Just what I thought,” he muttered, as he pulled off his wig and ran his fingers through bis white hair. ‘‘ Just what I thought. All right, Mr. Flute, now I know you. I think I can block your game. ‘Git Thar’ Owney is too well known to the boys to be able to bide his identity under Flute, or any other nickname.” In the mean time Flute (or ‘*‘ Git Thar Owney,” for the tenor was indeed no otber than the famous young detective) was thinking—think- ing. Rounded was right. Flute had a purpose in accepting an engagement at the Euterpia Theater, entirely unconnected with the salary he received. He had suspected Rounde] to be some one whom he was particularly anxious to see inter- viewed by a judge and jury in the Court of Oyer and Terminer, New York. Now he had satisfied himself of his identity, and the rest was only a question of waiting. “Tam afraid you know me, Tiger Jim,” he muttered. ‘' But if you do, you also know that ‘Git Thar’ Owney hasn’t earned his sobriquet for nothing. Ill ‘ git thar,’ just as sure as your name is not Norman Roundel. Pretty good scheme, you scoundrel, to join an opera ccm- pany asacloak to your real business, aad one more instance of the way you make use of every talent you possess, but—it won’t avail you this time.” He raised his hat to Blanche, and giving her his arm, left the theater. The Euterpia Theater is up town, and it did not take more than a few minutes to reach the quiet boarding-house on West Thirty-eighth street where Blanche lived. He parted from her at the door, saw her safe- | ly inside, and then lighting a cigar, walked leisurely toward his own home in the bracing wintry air. He had reached Broadway, and was wrapped in shotiet as he strolled along with his hands in the pockets of his ulster. He turned up a street in the vicinity of Madison Square, and stopped at last in front of a handsome residence, with brown stone pillars supporting a massive balcony over the front door, and storm doors to protect the steps from snow and wind. As he stopped a police officer passed him. * All right, Dobbs, Stand at the corner out of sight, but within bail. See that [’m not watched,” whispered ‘‘ Git Thar” Owney. The slightest bend of the officer’s head show- ed that be understood the order, as be walked across the street and stood silently and ghost- like in a deep doorway. The detective looked up and down the street, and then pulling open one of the storm-doors, went inside like a flash, Scarcely had he disappeared when a white head under a soft cap bobbed up from the area adjoining, and the voice of Norman Roundel hissed: ‘Watch yourself, Owney. Tiger Jim’s teeth are sharp, and he’s after blood!” CHAPTER III. LOCKS, BOLTS AND BARS. ‘* Grr THaR” OWNEY was evidently no stran- ger inthe house that he entered so boldly at midnight. Once screened from observation by the storm- doors, he tapped softly at the inner door, and began to leisurely take off his ulster. There was a click, as a small hole in the panel was opened, allowing a strcam of light to shine through, and the detective ‘put his face where the light would fall full upon it. ‘‘Mr. Graham, it’s you, is it? Just what I thought,” exclaimed a cheery female voice. Then the door opened and “‘ Git Thar ” Owney shook hands with the owner of the cheery voice, in the person of a buxom, good-looking woman of about fifty years of age, “How do you, Mrs. Burton? Is Mr, Argent at home?” ‘Yes, sir. He’s in the library, I think he expects you.” ‘T’ll step right in, then.” “Come in!” said a voice frem the li , in response to * Git Thar ” Owney’s knock, and the detective entered a luxuriously-furnisbed room, in the center of which, at a massive library table, sat Mr. Argent, the well-known banker, reading by the light of a shaded student’s lamp, “* Ah, Owney, that you?” “Yeu, sir,” ** Anything new?” » el ee i Ore ee bITa We. Meng
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**T think so.” The banker arose from his chair, and coming ase to the detective, looked earnesly into his ace, * What is it?” ** Well,” answered Owney, deliberately. ‘I have received information that your daughter is certainly in the city.” “Where? Where?” * That I cannot tell at present, though I hope soon to know. When she left the house, a month ago, she did not go to the aunt in Yonkers whom you thought she would seek.” ‘“No, no. I know that. My poor child! My Lucy!” ‘*She was not without money, and being a bright, sensible girl, she was determined to be independent, So she went to the house of a former maid, on the East side, told her story, and paid her board there for three weeks.” “ Yes?” ** A week ago she left, and the maid does not know where she went, All your daughter told her was that she had ssonvel employment, and that it would be necessary for her to live up- town to be near her work, What the nature of that work was she did not reveal.” “* Well?” ‘“* Now that we know in what quarter of the city to look for her, it should be comparatively easy to find her. I am sorry you have not a photograph of her.” ‘*So am I, but she never had one taken since she was a baby. She has blue eyes, jet-black hair, is about middle hight, and is very pretty. That is the only description I can give you.” The detective took out a note-book, and re- ferring to acertain page, nodded his head. “Yes, that is what I have here, save that I have in addition a memorandum of the fact that she has a red mark on her right wrist about as large as a ten-cent piece, on which, when at home, she always wore a flat gold bracelet,” “Yes. The bracelet was one that I gave her mother on her wedding-day. She gave it to m little Lucy only a short time before she died. And now to think that my girl is away from me among strangers, and exposed to all the dangers of this great city. It is terrible—terrible!” The banker walked up and down the soft car- pet, pressing his right hand to his brow, and moaning in sheer agony of mind. ‘What was the reason that your daughter left?” asked Owney after a pause, during which he had replaced his note-book in an inside pocket and taken a seat near the open fireplace. ‘* She was always a bigh-spirited girl, like her mother, and I expect I was disposed to be stern with her. You see, since the death of her mo- ther, Lucy and I bave lived entirely alone with Mrs, Burton, and Lucy has always had her own way. The morning on which she disappeared, Lucy and I were taking breakfast alone, when she eid pomenning for which I reproved her.” es “Ske retorted sharply, and I again rebuked her. One word led to another, and at last, I, without thinking what I was saying, told her that she had the same violent temper which had so often imbittered my existence during her mo- ther’s life. This made her furious, She arose from the table, dragging off the table-cloth and smashing cups, saucers, plates, and so forth, and flung herself out of the room.” “Tots of spirit, eh?’ commented Git Thar e . “Yes, I heard her go out, but supposed that she had only gone to visit some of her girl ac- quaintances, She never came back.” The banker sunk into his chair and buried his face in his hands, _ The detective sat still for a few minutes, re- specting the sanctity of grief. Then he got up and said: ** Are you ready to go with me to the bank?” ‘Yes, [am ready,” responded the banker, as he recovered himself with an effort, and ring- ing for his valet, invested himself in an ulster as heavy as that worn by “Git Thar” Owney, and a sealskin cap. ** You can go to bed, Slater. I shall not need anything when I come in,” observed the banker, care] to the valet, who was an English im- portation, with smug mutton-chop whiskers, grit manners and a thorough understanding of e duties of a ‘‘gentleman’s sefvant,” which ee he had filled to a lord in “‘ the old coun- ‘Very well, sir. Hif you should require any- thing, sir, you will honly ’ave to touch the bell, you know, sir,” he said, with elaborate polite- ness, as he bowed and withdrew. : fc sapnose I had better take this, eh, Owney ?” observ: . Argent, as he unlocked a drawer Flute, the Singer Detective. under the bookcase and took out a 44-caliber Smith & Wesson six-shooter. ‘* Yes, 1t is as well,” assented the detective, as he took from the pocket of bis ulster a revolver the counterpart of the banker’s and examined it closely. ‘* [ don’t think we shall need them, be- cause I am satisfied that the job will not be at- tempted for at least a week to come, but it is well to be prepared.” The banker and detective left the house to- gether, Mrs. Burton carefully securing both the inner and storm-doors after them, The two stood on the steps for a moment, and the detective emitted a low whistle. Like a ghost the officer whom he had addressed as Dobbs, glided across the road and stood be- fore him, close to the iron fence, so as to be as inconspicuous as possible to chance pedestrians. ** Well, Dobbs?” ‘*No one passed along the street since you went in, sir—not a soul.’ “Good. That will do, Dobts. Stay. Walk ahead, swiftly, so as to be a square or two in ad- vance of us, and go direct to the bank of Argent & Co,, on Fourth avenue. Stay in the vicinity, and report to me—cautiously, so as not to be o served—when I come,” Dobbs was gone, hugging the railings all the way up the street and melting around the corner after the usual manner of a well-trained New York policeman. ‘*Now, Mr. Argent,” from Owney, after waiting a few moments to give Dobbs a chance to get away. he banker and the detective walked swiftly up the street, and reaching Broadway, turned their steps toward the lower part of town. And even “Git Thar” Owney, sharp-eyed detective as he was, failed to notice the figure of a man, with stern face and snow-white hair, who followed them, with the pertinacity of an evil spirit, keeping just far enough away for safety, but never losing sight of the men he was haunting, for a single instant, The bank building of Argent & Co. stood in the middle of a block. It was a substantial granite structure, with iron railings to keep the common horde from looking in the large plate- glass windows, The safe faced the doorway. It was a deep vault, imbedded in the solid brick wall, and secured by a very thick steel-lined oaken door, studded with great rivets. It was considered by the officers of the bank to be abso- lutelv impregnable. It is needless to say that the gas was always left burning to its full hight all night, Mr. Argent admitted himself and the detec- tive with a pass-key, and then close: the door. ““Wait a minute. Don’t move forward for a minute, We don’t want the police from the station here now,” said the banker, as he went to a small iron box let into the floor, in a corner behind the counter and made a slight click. ‘“Oh, Isee. Yes, I'd forgotten that.” ‘¢T have just thrown the burglar alarm out of gear,” explained the banker. “It is a very complete thing of its kind. No one can go with- in eight feet of the vault without setting bells ringing in three places—the vearest station- house, my residence and that of the cashier. ‘* Exactly.” ‘*T should like you to examine everything here, and see that there are no weak spots. Then, with the watchman warned to be specially vigi- aes ought to be able to catch those ras- s. ‘* We shall catch them,” declared “‘ Git Thar ” Owney, with quiet confidence, The detective walked bebind the counters, all guarded by thick plate-glass, with little pigeon- holes for the transaction of business with the public. Then he examined the president’s pri- vate room at the back, and the cashier’s office qdjoining it. Each of these rooms had a win- ow, crossed and recrossed with iron bars like a jail, and the windows looked into a narrow paved court, lighted by a street lamp with a powerful reflection that brought out every corner into strong prominence. ‘No chance to get in that way,” commented. the detective, as he glanced through the window, ‘* What is underneath the bank?” ‘* Nothing,” answered the banker, There was some sort of cellar many years ago, but it has been filled up with columns of stone so close to- ether that it is impossible for any one to squeeze tween them.” ‘You are sure of that, are you?” ‘tlinary ogi possibility of any oné ' “There wou no 0 y one being secreted down there?” pide “How could there? There are no doors or windows to the place, and if there were, they would not lead to anything save solid masonry. This building is a heavy one, and the stone pil- lars were put in to sustain the weight of the superstructure.” * Hum!” “Do you think it necessary to put in another watchman?” asked Mr. Argent, as the two sat down for a moment in the president’s room—the detective on a corner of the table and the banker on the arm of his easy-chair, both looking through the open door into the bank proper. _ ‘“No. That is, if your regular watchman is” reliable.” “ He is.” ‘*T believe he is, I have been watching him since we have been here.” “Watching him? Why,I didn’t know that. you saw him.” , The banker spoke in tones of unfeigned as- tonishment. : : ‘* Possibly not,” laughed Owney, in bis quiet. way, ‘‘ but I did, nevertheless, Call him,” ** Dennis,” called the banker. ‘ Yes, sorr,” and a comical face, with a short,. turned-up nose, twinkling eyes, anda frame of red hair, that stuck up on topand curled around his chin, peered from a little hutch immediately over the Noor of the vault. a ay ‘‘T want you to be especially vigilant for a few weeks to come.” ‘‘ Better say months, or even years,” suggest— ed the detective. ‘This isa big job, and men in the bank-robbing business have plenty of pa- tience. They are content to bide their time, no matter how Bosy it may be in coming.” “You hear that, Dennis?” “Faith an’ Oi do that, sorr. Oi’ll kape me eyes paled, an’ sorra a wan of me-will ever siape a wink at all, at all.” ; ‘* Well, Owney, I suppose that will do. I have- pag you here to enable you to see for your- self how the bank is protected at night. Now, what do you think of it?” “Pretty well; but, after all, the ale a Te- liance must be placed on Dennis. By the way, what is his full name?” *“‘Dinnis Carrigan, sorr. Which me own father was Fighting Dinnis, of Tipperary, whar Oi was born,” put in Dennis, from bis little hutch. “‘ Dennis Carrigan, eb? ell, remember that: you are holding a very responsible yosition,” returned Owney. Mr. Argent had gone behind the courter to arrange the burglar alarm again. j **Confound it! I have done something to this electric button. The apparatus is out of or- ze pee . “Yes, it is,” declared the banker, as he came from behind the counter, flushed with annoy- ance and the exertion of steoping. ‘‘ Well, I guess there is no danger to-night, I'll baveit re- paired in the morning.” A last warning to Dennis, and the banker and detective were on the street. ‘* Well, Dobbs, what is it?” The police officer was standing at Owney’s elbow. ‘** A suspicious-looking man passed the bank twice—tall, heavy fellow, with white hair.” ** Where did he go” “Don’t know, sir, The first time he went down the avenue, A few minutes afterward he came back, When he got to the gas-lamp at the corner of this little court I came out of the shadow to speak to him, but he got away somewhere, and I don’t know where. I looked down the court but be was not there. You see it is so light that be could not possibly hide, It’s a puzzler to me.” A he worthy Dobbs took off his helmet and wiped his perspiring brow with a black and yellow handkerchief with a vigor that left no doubt of his mental perturbation. “ Git Thar” Owney was troubled. He walked down the court and looked care- fully in every corner. He gazed up and down the avenue and into all the doorways in the vicinity. No sign of the big man with the white hair. ‘“‘Debbs, you stay here for an hour, If you see that again, shadow him to his home Leave a written ee
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vs CHAPTER IV. “ GIT THAR” OWNEY TO THE RESCUER, “So,” muttered Norman Roundel, “we know all about the scheme now, and the elec- tric alarm is out of order. Get it fixed in the morning, will he? Don’t think he will. Not if Tiger Jim is attending to bis business as he will be, I expect.” He sat back in his easy-chair, threw one leg over the arm, and laughed silently as he cogi- tated. *“No possibility of any one getting under- neath the bank. Ha, ha! No, of course not. And yet—how is it that I happen to be sitting in old Argent’s chair in his private room, and— yes, I will do it; why not?—helping myself to his own particular sherry and fancy crackers?” Roundel arose at this stage of his reflections and going to a closet with plate-glass mirrors in the doors, took outa bottle of sherry, a wine-glass and a silver plate containing some expensive wine crackers. He placed them on the table, and throwing open his ulster, poured himself out a glass of sherry, and prepared to enjoy himself, The door of the room was nearly closed, so that he could not be seen from the street, and he sat in the easy-chair with as much coolness as if he had been the banker himself taking a moon lunch, He had just raised the glass to his lips, when he suddenly put it down: and springing noiseless- ly to his feet, drew a heavy revolver, and with stern face, stood watching the door. ““I guess it was only our friend Dennis snor- ing,” he whispered, after a pause. ‘ Dennis is a good fellow, and I am opposed to bloodshed on general principles, For these reasons I hope that Dennis will keep quietly in bis den until I go away. . I must stay here an hour to give the policeman a chance to gef away and still do his duty. Iam much obliged to Owney for giving his orders just where I could hear and profit by them. He’s a smart fellow, isOwney, but he won't git thar this trip.” He sat down again and resumed his discussion of the wine and crackers. But he kept the re- volver on the table, within easy reach of his hand, and bis face never relaxed its expression of intense watchfulness as he sipped and sipped at Mr, Argent’s prime old sherry. A light scratching immediately beneath his ‘chair made him start, “I'm blessed if I hadn’t forgotttn all about him. 1 guess I'll let him come up and get a glass of old Argent’s sherry. He went to a corner of the room, where the closet and the wall made a small recess, and, stooping, turned up a piece of the rich Brussels eurpet. The floor underneath appeared to be solid and compact, but a dextrous use of a small crowbar, with a bent and sharpened end, that he produced from an inside pocket, enabled him to “pen a small trap. . A whistle under his breath into the hole, was followed ly the appearance of a head and iface, the latter wearing a very discontented ex- pression, _ ‘Come up here, Piper.” ‘* Well, I should say so,” wheezed Piper. ‘I think I’ve been down here long enough. I don’t think this is any way to treat a first-class me- cbanic. After being around a theater all the evening, hearing another fellow singing my fa- vorite part, and then winding up by being squeezed into a narrow space between two stone ‘walls, a man isn’t likely to feel-very good; this job ought to pan out big, for the work before- -oand is hard enough.” Roundel did not answer, save to motion his partner to be quiet. But he gave his hand to the «lisgusted litule tenor, and with one pull bad him Standing in the room. ‘ “Take a glass of wine. It is my particular brand.” Ezra Piper reciprocated the grin with which _ ‘this was whispered, and drank two glasses of the sherry in quick succession. ‘* Good toing for the voice,” he wheezed, “ Excellent. _“* Maybe I shall be able to do Nanki-Poo to- night.” ‘* Perhaps so, but Iexpect you will have other thimgs on your mind, ‘This job must be done to- night.” * Sure?” ‘Yes, the burglar-alarm is ‘fixed.’ There will be some five hundred thousand dollars in the vault, mostly in big notes and negotiable se- curities, and we can work the cousin racket on Dennis be fg very easily,” “Ah! Well, what do you want me to do mow? I don’t like to bang about a place where Flute, the Singer Detective. I am going to do a job before it is time to ” work. Roundel stepped cautiously to the door, and Dobbs was standing on the steps in front of the bank, with his back toward the peeped out, door. His hour had expired, and he was preparing to depart, still wondering what had become of the big man with the white hair. ‘** There is one thing certain, my dear Dobbs,” muttered Roundel, apostrophizing the uncon- scious Officer, ** 1t will take a livelier man than you to get the grip on Tiger Jim.” Dobbs looked up the street and down the street, and then Roundel and Piper heard the steady tramp of nis No. 11 feet as he marched, with head erect, but in very low spirits, toward the police station, Carrigan was now fast asleep in his little coop ning the door of the private office, walked boldly into the above the vault door, and Roundel o banking-room, followed by Ezra Piper. **Now, look around you, quickly, Ezra, and see what you have to do, while 1 stand behind the door-post and keep watch,” Speaking thus, Roundel took up his position where he could not be seen from the street. It was now between two and three o’clock, and Fourth avenue at that particular point was en- tirely deserted. Piper glanced up at the window of Carrigan’s little hutch, eae ‘* He’s safe enough, I tell you. The drink he took just before twelve o’clock has settled him. I took care of that. He won’t wake up unless you make a great deal of noise,” **T won’t do that.” ‘* Well, get to work.” Piper dropped on his knees behind the end of the counter where he would be invisible to any casual passer-by, though a person coming up the steps and looking through the glass door might see his feet. He wheezed a good deal as he felt in his pock- ets for certain tools of steel, highly-tempered , with which wood, iron, steel or glass could be overcome swiftly and noiselessly. ‘*Hurry up, there, Ezra,” warned Roundel. ** All right; I’m at work.” Selecting a small crowbar and ascrew-driver, with the latter he unfastened some screws that held one of the boards of the flooring in place, and then with the crowbar he lifted the board. He now had an open place about: two feet long and six inches wide, ‘**Have you got it, Ezra?” whispered Roun- del. ss Yes. ” “Good. Now fix it.” “‘T will. Here’s the wires lying along as nice as can be,” wheezed Ezra, exultantly. His actions were swift and dexterous, He used a small pair of pincers, with a cutting at- tachment, such as are’ used by beli-hangers. With these he severed the wires in two | aorigee: taking from each a piece nearly two feet in leagth—that is, as Da as was revealed by the opening.” ‘* Ain’t you through yet, Ezra?” “Very nearly,” Carefully and in a workmanlike manner, Piper replaced the board, covering it with the matting that he had taken up, and leaving no trace of his operations bebind him. There,” he wheezed, complacently. ‘I think that burglar-alarm is silenced for a few days. Even if they do try to repair it to-mor- row, I don’t think they will have time to locate the trouble.” * All right, eh?” asked Roundel. “Yes,” chuckled tbe other. ‘They will change the batteries and tinker around, and find it won’t work. Then they will advance the usual set of theories as to the trouble, and final- ly they will conclude to leave it for another a “Have you taken a general observation, so that you will know how to go to work without any waste of time to-morrow?” asked Roundel, checking his companion’s ratber dangerous rhapsody. ““ Yes, I have seen all I want. I shall make quick time to-morrow,” ** Then let us get out,” ‘To the corner of the private office, both went, Piper went down the hole first, followed closely by Roundel, who by a method known only to himself which he had employed successfully in other jobs before this one, replaced the carpet |’ over the loose board from below. ~ In the cellar there was not too much room, but the contractor who had been paid -to build the columns of stone to strengthen the building long His partner shook his head impa- ve to impress the truth of his remarks upon years ago had made a little extra profit by set- ting some of the columns further apart then was called for in bis contract. Thus a passageway through which a man could squeeze bad been left, and bad been quickly seiz- ed upon by Norman Roundel to aid him im his plan of robbing the bank of Argent & Co, As had been said, there were no doors or win- dows to this cellar, but an opening into an ad- joining cellar had been made, and communica- tion with the street in a roundabout way estab- lished. Theadjoining cellar was under a large dry- goods store, and was used for keeping old boxes, spoiled goods, wrapping paper and similar things. Roundel and Piper walked swiftly, but quiet- ly through it, like persons acquainted With the locality. From this cellar they let themselves into another, and from thence into a yard. A door from which a blaze of light streamed opened into this yard. ** Shall we go in, Piper? **'Yes, ’m parched,” answered Ezra, prompt- y. ‘Very well. Though I do not think it is wise. We do not know who we will meet. Anyhow, I'm going to take some precaution.” A quick movement, and Roundel’s white hair was covered with a brown wig, while his cheeks were adorned with heavy sweeping whiskers. The change in his appearance was simply mar- velous, ‘* Now, Piper.” ** Wait a moment.” An adept in the art of “make up,” Piper put some cheek a into his mouth, and his usually sunken cheeks became plump, completely chang- ing the character of his face. A touch of rouge and a blonde mustache were added, and the most intimate friend of Ezra Piper could not have sworn to his identity. The two men stepped through the door and found themselves in an all-night saloon. A voice that they recognized at once as that of Peter Graul, stage-manager of the Euterpia Theater was telling in low tones about the new tenor who had turned up in the nick of time to take the place of a fellow who had lost his voice just at the time when he ought to have had it, As Roundel and Piper entered the bar-room Graul turned around and saluted them witha boisterous ‘* Good-evening.” He had evidently been drinking enough to prevent his vision being as good as usual, or he might, as an old actor, have detected the fact that Roundel’s whiskers and Piper’s mustache were false. As it was, he took their appearance for granted, and ordered - the bartender to ‘‘give these gentlemen what they want, at the expense of Peter Graul.” The two new-comers glanced around them and saw that the room was: mpty save for a stranger with gray bair and spectacles, who sat behind a table at the end of the room puffing a cigar and: apparently absorbed in a newspaper. “In the theatrical line?” asked Graul, tronizingly, as he leaned his elbow comforta- ly on the bar and looked his new acquaintances over. ‘* No, sir,” answered Roundel. : “Ah! I’m sorry for you. Great business, Merit always rises to the top there—if you have luck, and influence, and money.” ‘So Pve beard,” “Yes, sir. Now, there's a young man at my theater—Euterpia, where the opera of ‘ The Mikado’ is bemg done with such magnificent success, as we say on the show-bills, ahem !— “ There’s a young man at my thester, who bas as just come forward asatenor. Splendid voice, sir! Never heard anything hke it in light opera before, sir! Well, our regular tenor—a worth- less, skulking fellow—was taken sick, or said he was—lost his voice completely—confound him! I didn’t know what to do. w a fellow among the stage bands. Knew by the look of his face that he was a singer. Picked him out at once. Said to him: ‘ on and sing the part of Nanki-Poo, and you shall have a hundred dol- lars a night.’ Said be bad never sung anything in bis life. I told him I knew better. He must’ goon and sing. Made him get into the costume and forced him on the stage,” ‘‘ How interesting,” wheezed Piper. “Yes, Well, do you know that young man’ was so nervous that he couldn’t sing his first solo, and I had to sing it from the wing, while be moved his lips and pretended that the notes came from him,” As Mr. Graul uttered this astounding false- hood he looked full into the face of Roundel, as im, ‘** And did the new tenor make a hit?”
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‘Tremendous! He got up his courage after- ward, well enough to ising the rest of his music, and though every one said the first solo was much superior to the others, he pleased the audience very much, and will have a permanent position as leading tenor at my theater.” ‘¢ And how about the other tenor?” “The old one, you mean? Oh, he is a miser- able scoundrel. I shall be glad to get rid of him. He hasonly been with us a week. I think I shail thrash him and then kick him out of the theater.” Mr. Graul’s weakness was boasting... As he concluded his last remark something struck him under the chin and laid him flat on his back. He had a vision of an infuriated young mgn with a blonde mustache, one plump cheek and one flabby one, bending over him, and threatening with horrible oaths to knock his brains out, Then there was a movement behind the news- paper in the corner, a man with gray bair threw himself upon the stage-manager’s assail- ant, and with one well-directed blow on the chest made him turn a somerset into the vard, | Piper hastily recovered himself, and was about to return to the combat, when the voice of Rounde!l hissed in his ear: ; “Come away, you fool. That’s ‘Git Thar’ Owney. We can’t afford to he recognized now.” Piper suffered himself to be led away. When at a safe distance he turned around, and shak- ing his fist, wheezed vindictively: **One more score to wipe out with ‘Git Thar’ Owney!” ee CHAPTER V. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NORTH RIVER, Tr was a bright sunny morning when Dennis Carrigan stood on the steps of the Argent Bank, stretching his limbs after his night's vigil. He had walked all about tbe interior of the building after a protracted nap in his little hutch, and had satisfied himself that everything was sufe, “Faith!” he yawned, ‘tI must have taken an exthra sthrong wan whinI met that man on the avenoo last noight. An’ he seemed to know all about Teddy Finnegan, too, me cousin, Be the wers, buf the whisky was shtrong. It made e head of me as heavy as lead.” In truth, Dennis did look asif he bad indulged rather copiously the night before, His hair was tousled, and his twinkling eyes were surrounded by red rims that gave him an even more comi- cal appearance than usual, ' He looked up at the bank clock and gave him- self asleepy shake. . “Where in thunder is that shpalpeen of a nagur, { wondher? Sure, it’s past seven o’clock, an’ he ought ter be here to shweep and cl’ane, Does be think I want to stay here all day, as well as all noight. Begorra, I'll lick him a pelt if he doesn’t come soon, now.” Thus grumbling, Dennis walked down the steps to the street and looked down the avenue. Then his face brightened, and he’buttoned up his overcoat. The “‘nagur,” as he called him, and who turned out to be a middle-aged colored man of respectable appearance, with an enormous ap- preciation of the duties of bis argon strolled up in a dignified way, and nodded condescend- ingly to Carrigan, + Good mawnin’, sab.” . “ Marning to yeself, Misther Johnson,” . “Is yo’ health es salubrious es yo’c'u’d desire, Mister Cawgan?” .“Yis, I’m feeling pretty good, bless the saints.” **1t’s er fine mawning, dis hyar.” ** Vis, sorr.” , ‘No trouble since I’ve been gawn, eh?” ** No, sorr.” f “Well, I’m gwine ter clean out dis hyar eee right away, an’ I wants all de room I can | As the colored gentleman took off his coat, Mr. Carrigan rightly understocd it as a hint for him to retire, and he retired forthwith, while the other, with broom and pail, proceeded to make everything in the bank as clean and shin- —— labor could make it. ennis, with HiS overcoat closely buttoned, trudged cheerfully down Broadway under the wintry sun, There was no snow, and his iron- shod heels made an invigorating ring on the ' wind-swept stone sidewalks, “Darn that dbrink, It’s left the head of me all swelled, be jabers, so that it’s a wonder me hat stays on,” he grumbled. ‘It’s a good job poe nove of them burgulars we are always earing about did not choose last noight to break the bank. I wouldn’t say, begorra, that I'd Flute, the Singer Detective. have woke up long enough to shoot wan of them.” He marched along down Broadway and made his way to the Courtlandt Street Ferry, to go over to Jersey Citv. The wind blew keenly across the North River, and as Dennis stepped on board the boat he shivered and took refuge in the ladies’ cabin. “ Foine lot of gurls,” he said to himself, “‘ but Oi don’t see what in the name of the saints they are going over ter Jarsey for at this time in the morning,” He looked approvingly at some half-dozen factory girls, who were evidently going to work in Jersey City, and then his gaze became fixed on a neatly, but plainly-dressed young lady ina tailor-made suit, whose face was concealed by a ih vail, and who sat by the side of the factory girls. *” He found himself wondering what she looked like—whether she was pretty, and whether ber eyes were blue, in harmony with her golden hair, or whether they afforded the pleasing con- trast of brown or black. There was the usual ringing of bells and blow- ing of whistles to announce the departure of the boat, and the big, unwieldy craft ees left the slip, the water under her stern bubbling up angry white, and hissing like a caldron of hell- broth. ‘‘Now for Jarsey,” muttered Dennis, balf- asleep as he settled himself back comfortably in his seat. \ He aroused himself sufficiently to notice two strangers strolling into the cabin and seating themselves by the side of the young lady with the tailor-made dress and the thick vail. One of the strangers,, who sat next to the lady, was a slim aos. man, with flabby face and a wheezy cough. The other was a rough-looking | fellow, with marks of whitewash on his working clothes and heavy shoes. His slouch hat came down over his eyes, allowing but little more of his face to be seen than a long, drooping brown mustache, Even on the mustache there was a stray spot of whitewash showing that the wearer had rot geht, cleansed himself since his yesterday’s work. The boat groaned, jarred and struggled labo- riously across the river, stopping occasionally with a ringing of bells, as obstructions came in its way. The slim young man bad been furtively look- ing at the girl at his side since taking bis seat. hether she was looking at him or uot no one oe tell, on account of the thickness of her vail. * Begorra, that young dood is thryin’ ter mash that Re. Well, small blame ter him eytber,” was Carrigan’s sleepy soliloquy, as he buried his chin in the collar of his ulster, and closed his eyes, The boat had stopped in mid-stream, and the incessant whistling and ringing would have told the passengers that there was some difficulty, even if they bad not seen through the window, that one of those thick fogs which have a habit of dropping over New York Harbor so suddenly had enveloped them, and made navigation dan- gerous. ; A big ocean steamer was coming into harbor, and the ferry-boat narrowly escaped running clear across her bows. The young a in the thick vail betrayed some concern at the delay, and lifted one corner of the vail to look through the window. “‘ Blanche!” exclaimed the young man by her side, as he put his hand on her wrist. The girl dropped her vail, and shook off bis hand with an impatient movement, that be- = hog her vexation at having discovered her- se . F ‘* Blanche!” he repeated. The laboring man with the whitewash on his clothes balf-turned. ¢ ‘* What do you want?” asked the girl. “Blanche Rogers, where are you going?” from the young man, in a wheezy whisper. The laboring man was listening intently. ‘*Ezra Piper, I bave told bee that I don’t wish you to trouble yourself about my affairs.” The girl got up and seated herself by the side _ moja Carrigan, who politely made room or her, ‘*Begorva, but the gal has the good taste,” he thought. Piper—for of course it-was he—was about to et up, with the evident intention of following her, when a powerful hand grasped his wrist, and a voice, that he did not recognize, hissed in his ear: “Sit still!” \ The laboring man was holding him in a vise- like grip. ; MP AL Rese Piper struggled silently to release his hand but the laboring man had fingers like steel, and he could not get away. ‘‘Let go my hand!” he growled, under his breath, ** Sit still!” “If you don’t take your hand off me, I'll cut your fingers off.” * Sit still.” ** Who are you?” ** Sit still.” Piper’s left hand disappeared in his ulster, and in a second came out again with a dirk-knife, 4 The laboring man snatched it from him, and ; put it in his own pocket. Then, with a con- aol temptuous smile, took it out and returned it to sf i 4 Piper. ‘Sit still!” 3 Piper made an effort to leave his seat, but a wrench at his wrist, given apparently without any effort on the part of the laboring man, brought him to his seat again. 7 The struggle and conversation had been con- ducted so quietly that the other passenger's, with the exception of the young lady—who was, of her Blanche Rogers—had not noticed it at all. ‘What do you mean by interfering with me?” wheezed Piper. \ ** What do you mean «§ forcing your atten- tions on that young lady “ She is a friend of mine.” “Indeed? She does not act like a friend,” with a contemptuous smile. . The boat was still groaning and palpitating in the thick fog, but without making any progress. The laboring man released the other’s wrist and arose from his seat. Then he bent over and whispered a few words in Piper’s ear, “‘Why—why—what—” stammered Piper. But the laboring man was gone. : The girl had been watching the quiet contro- versy between the laboring man and Piper and had never taken her eyes from them, When Piper recovered from his astonishment at the rapid disappearance of the laboring man, — he looked across the cabin to see what Blanche was doing, He could hardly believe his eyes. She, too had vanished, Piper crossed over to her vacant seat, and ad- dressing bimself to Dennis Carrigan, who was ss nodding and catching himself, asked: ‘“ Where is that young lady who was sitting by the side of you a moment ago,” Dennis opened his ti very wide and looked his questioner up and down, ‘*Sorra the wan o’ me knows. An’ I wouldn’t tell you if I did. So put that in yer poipe an” i shmoke it.” aah: Piper looked savagely at the other, and the # tightening of his thin lips indicated that he would like to have visited bodily chastisement aq upon the Irishman, had he dared. He contented mi himself with a scow] and marched out of the Oy te cabin forward. The fog was so thick that he could not see ae more than a yard or two when he reached the ee deck outside, "The yellow mist seemed to crawl AP into his very bones, and he sunk hischindeep into his ulster and shivered. . eel The whistles and bells were in full action, ay sounding weird and awful in the impenetrable obscurity. The boat was not moving. Pad Piper walked forward until he reached the safety-gates. PR Where was Blanche? He had no doubt that . a. she had come out here to escape bis attentions, Da ae but she could not be far away. Even as he thought thus, a slight cough almost . at his elbow fell upon his ear. The next instant ie: he had his arm around the waist of Blanche = Rogers. 4 ie ‘ “4 “Take your arm away, sir. What do you pee: be mean by annoying me in this way?” 1 Hea “Blanche, | want to know why you are ‘ throwing me over in this way.” ; “T do not want to — to You, sir, If you do not leave me, I will scream.” “Seream! Do! It will be interesting and dramatic, and won’t do you any good, The ig officers of the boat are too busy trying to get Ne. VSS through this fog to trouble themselves about = girls’ screams, and, as for the pemeipee they 4 could never find me or youeitherifIchoseto keep you out of their way.” “You are a coward, Ezra Piper, to insult a Sey defenseless girl in this way.” f r “‘ You are a fool, Blanche Rogers, to be cross- se ing the North River on such a morning as this” when your home is ’way up-town,” repli Piper, rudely, as he gave the girl a rough shake. ‘Why, you murtherin’ villain, take that.” Dennis Carrigan’s right fist struck Piper un- ‘oo
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der the chin, and he reeled backward against - the gunwale with a crash that jarred him from head to foot. ‘‘That’s what we used to d’ale out to the bhoys, in ould Tipperary, do you moind,” yelled Dennis, as he skipped about, ready to renew the combat, his long ulster flymg open and actually eens the fog in his vicinity. iper was a second or two before he recovered his scattered wits, Then, with that sneaking movement of his hand to the inside of his ulster, he flew at the Irishman. ‘Oh, howly saints! Oi’mcut. Sure I'm kilt entoirely,” cried Dennis, as be grasped his assailant under the arms, and whirled him around like a kitten. ‘Curse you! Let me go!” wheezed Piper, as he tried to use his dirk knife again. “ Quit yer foolin’, you shpalpeen. You've nearly cué the arm off me. But for me ulster Td be dead!” . Ezra managed to the knife flashed throat. “Take that, you Irish hound!” hissed the em as he tried to bury his knife in the other’s neck, ‘* Well, indade, thin, Oi’m not takin’ ony- thing from you. But you just git!” With a superhuman effort, the Irishman lifted the other from his feet, swung him around in the air, and threw him clear over the side of the boat into the boiling sea, A scream of horror from Blanche, and then a laboring man, with spots of whitewash on his clothing and on his long, dark mustache, sprung forward, and thrusting Dennis aside, get his right hand free, and angercusly near Dennis’s _ jumped into the water and struck out for the drowning man. CHAPTER VI. PIPER PLAYING A LONE HAND. ‘¢ MAN overboard!” A deck-hand had seen the splash as Ezra Pi dropped into the water, and a moment later the plunge of the laboring man. Ropes and life-preservers were thrown over, and directly the laboring man was seen clinging to one, while with his left hand he held the hair of Piper in a tight grip, thus keeping his head above water. Ezra, incumbered by bis heavy ulster, could hardly have saved himself, even had he been a good swimmer, which he was not, His rescuer, on the other hand, bad thrown off his overcoat, and in acomplete suit of blue overalls, seem to be quite at home in the water. ‘¢ Catch hold of this,” he whispered to Ezra, pushing the life-preserver toward him, Piper, hardly knowing what he did, benumb- ed with the cold, and f choked with water, obeyed mechanically. There was a line attach- ed to the preserver, and with a ‘‘ Yo-heave-ho!” he was dragged to the deck of the boat, and hustled away to the engine-room to be dried and warmed, } Almost as soon as Piper had been dragged aboard, the laboring man, assisted by a dozen willing hands, bad leaped to the deck and was also hustled toward the engine-room. Piper had been taken to one corner, where he was temporarily rigged out in some old clothes of one of the firemen, while the laboring man was similarly accommodated in another part of the room. ; Neither of the involuntary bathers could see tbe other. It was perbaps as well that this was so, for the appearance of both bad so materially changed as the result of their ducking that there would undoubtedly have been an awk- ward recognition had the two men found them- selves face to face. The heavy mustache of the laboring man had been washed off, showing the features of “ Git Thar” Owney. As for Piper, his mustache was gone, the rouge had been rubbed off his face, and his flabby cheeks looked baggier than ever as he shivered and cowered with the cold, that seemed asif it would not be expelled from his system. It is useless to say that the detective had known Piper from the first, though the recog- nition had not been mutual. ¥ The heat of the boilers was soon sufficient to dry the clothes of the two men, and by the time the ferry-boat had worked its way to Jersey _City, the two men were once more arrayed in their own clothes, Piper sneaked out of the engine-room as soon as he was d ,and made bis way into, the - Jadies’ cabin. The fog had lifted a little, and it did not take him long to satisfy himself that neither Blanche Rogers nor the Irishman were in the cabin. He Flute, the Singer Detective. walked forward, and as soon as the boat reach- ed’the slip, leaped ashore and disappeared. He did not go into the street, but turning to | o’clock in the morning, the right, walked with a crowd of oe | ness, nor of mine either.” : people into the waiting-room of the Pennsy vania Railroad. He took a seatin acorner where he could watch everything that took place, without be- ing conspicuous himself. e had lost his mustache and cheek-pads, and stood canfessed as the Ezra Piper whom we first met on the stage of the Euterpia Theater. For perhaps five minutes he sat m his corner, looking furtively about him, Then he arose and walked briskly across to the restaurant that adjoins the waiting-room. The colored waiters were busy serving break- fast to the passengers of incoming and outgoing trains, and the cheerful clatter of knives, forks ~ plates resounded through the room unceas- ingly. _ Piper seated himself at the counter, and, hav- ing ordered hot rolls and coffee, leisurely ate and drank, while watching everybody and everything around him. He had just finished his meal, when a voice whispered in his ear, ‘‘ Come.” Without turning his head, Piper: got off his stool, paid for his meal, and strolled carelessly out of the restaurant and into the street. He turned into a street to the left of the depot, whose houses faced the river, and from the win- dows of which one could look straight at the deck of the Cunard steamer that lay in her oo with her bowsprit almost overhanging the street. Into this particular house Piper walked with an air of proprietorship—the door being un- fastened—and marching straight up-stairs, un- locked the door of a bedroom. As he opened the door and stepped inside the room, he found himself in the company of Nor- man Roundel. Shutting the door and bolting it inside, the latter placed his back against it, and looking in- quiringly at Piper, said: Well?” Nothing!” was Piper’s enigmatical response. “ Why?” “Slipped away from me, that’s all,” an- swered Ezra sulkily, ‘‘ Dumped me into the river, too.” ‘* So I heard,” said Roundel carelessly. **Oh, you did? Well, it doesn’t.seem to trou- ble you much.” ‘Not much,” assented Roundel, ‘But we must do something about that fellow, Owney. You don’t happen to know that he was on the boat, and that he was shadowing you, and me, too, for all I know.” ‘* Wh-a-at?” Piper fairly shrieked. Roundel sat on the side of the bed and smiled. “Ha! You think you area pretty smart fel- low in your line, I don’t doubt!” he sneered, ** but you have something to learn yet.” * But—but—” stammered Piper. Roundel lighted a cigarette and allowed the blue smoke to curl from bis nuse with that air of enjoyment always affected by cigarette smokers, ‘* Are the people in the house bere of a prying disposition?” he asked, after a pause, “No. This is a regular boarding-house, and as long as the board is paid, and boarders look decent and behave respectably, there is no par- ticular inquiry made into their private_affairs, I am an opera singer, engaged at the Euterpia Theater, you know.” ‘* Exactly.” The two worthies grinned at each other sig- nificantly. ‘¢ Now,” went on Roundel; ‘tas I happen to know that Git Thar Owney is shadowing us, I think the best thing we can do is to lie down here and get a few hours’ sleep. If we move around on the street or go up to the crib, we shall be pretty sure to have him with us, He’s off the scent now, I know. I had him following me about the depot, until I saw a good chance to slip through the baggage-room and leave him. The last I saw of him, he was dodging about the other side of the waiting-room like a cat in a strange garret while I was keeping you company threugh the wagon-gate to the street.” The speaker chuckled, and Piper joined him with great enjoyment. ‘ “Did you see Blanche on the boat?” asked ara. Roundel looked at him curiously. ‘T am afraid,” he said coldly, “that you are losing whatever business sense you have had, on account of that girl, Yes, I did see her, and saw you making a fool of yourself, and spoiling | ; do not,” was the sarcastic reply. sbe know about our business? brain is getting softer than ever. rouse this morning soaked all the sense out of it. ‘Yon don’t thiak—” “That she is shadowing us} No, I certainly “What does I’m afraid your Perhaps ““Or froze it out. It was pretty cold, I tell u. ‘Undoubtedly. Well, now lie down.” Without another word, Norman Roundel threw himself upon the bed, and turning bis face to the wall, seemed to be asieep directly. The flabby-faced tenor, leanirg against the manfle, stood looking at him vacantly, with an expression tHat told as plainly as words, that his thoughts were elsewhere. For at least fifteen minutes he stood in a brown study. Then with a start he came to himself, and, glancing once more‘at Roundel to satisfy bim- self that he was sound asleep, be noiselessly opened the door, and slipping quietly down the stairs, made his way to the street. There was no fog now, and the clear air was slightly warmed by the winter sun that now shone in all its splendor, and made the dingy old city look almost cheerful. Piper walked swiftly, with an unhesitating step, as of one who knew his way, until he reached a quiet street in the upper part of the city, where a row of frame houses, each in its own small garden, betokened that they were the residences of well-to-do mechanics, or storekeep- ers in a small way of business. A knock at the door brought a bright-looking servant-girl. “Mr. Roundel in?” asked Piper. * No, sir.” ** How long will he be?” **T don’t know. He went out early this morn- ing, before I was awake, He often does so! He does not sleep well, and be goes out for a long walk to freshen himself up.’ “Hum! Ill waitfor him. He expects me. Can you let me wait in his library?” The girl, an innocent, unsophisticated, country damsel, yet hesitated a moment, for Ezra Piper’s appearance was not very prepossessing. He pushed past ber, however, and almost before she knew what had happened, he was sitting in an easy chair before a cozy fire, in the front parlor that he had referred to as the li- brary. He evidently knew the house as well as the owner himself, for he had not sat more than a few minvtes before he suddenly arose, and, with a careless glance out of the window, went to the cupboard below the bookcase, and opened it by touching a secret spring. ‘Ah, there they are. Beauties, too!” He took from the cupboard a steel saw, a small crowbar, and a complicated mass.of shin- ing steel, which soon showed itself to be a chisel, worked by a lever that could be applied by a sligbt pressure of the thumb, the whole ap- paratus being hinged so that it would fold up into a marvelously small space. A full set of burglar’s tools! Piper examined each one carefully, and then closing the door, resumed his seat in the easy- chair. He was thinking, inking! He looked at his watch. It had stopped at half-past seven, the time when he fell into the water, A small clock on the mantle-piece showed that it was now balf-past eight, ' “Time be should be here. If Roundel will only be kind enough to stay where he is for an hour or two, I think I can arrange this busi- ness, He’s safe enough, 1 guess. With all his smartness he is no match for Ezra Piper. He took one drink from my hands, and that was enough. He will sleep as long as I want him todo so. Hallo, there be is, by Jupiter!” There was a ring at the front door, He opened the dcor of the parlor, and inter- cepting the servant, who was on ber wey to the front door, directed her to shew the gentleman into the parlor. _ ‘“‘Mr,. Roundel is not here, but I can transact the business with this gentleman, We were to meet him together. Hurry!” Before the girl could collect ber scattered wits, Piper had pushed her toward the door, and had retreated himself to the library. The girl opened the door, and saw a tall, dig- nified gentleman, with gray bair and whiskers. ‘*T had an appointment with the gentleman that lives here for this morning,” said the stran- ger. ‘** Who do you mean, Mr.—”
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— es ‘*T don’t know his name,” interrupted the eiderly estos testily, ‘‘but I want to see him. e expects me.” “* Show the gentleman into the library, Mary. Show him in,” interposed a wheezy voice from the library, and the stranger, pushing past the girl, entered the room and closed the door with a hang. He found himself face to face with an appa- rently decrepit old man, with long, flowing white beard, and wearing a black skull-cap on his white hair. He was iabited in a voluminous white flannel dressing-gown, and supported himself on a thick walking: cane. ‘*Mr. Argent!” wheezed the old man, motion- ing his visitor to the easy-chair, while he took another with his back to the light. ‘*That is my name—yes,” was the impatient response. ‘‘ Now, what can you tell me about my daughter?’ CHAPTER VII. THE BANKER’S STRANGE ADVENTURE. Tux white-haired old man'in the white flan- nel dressing-gown, whom it is quite unnecessary to introduce as Ezra Piper, sat for perhaps half a minute looking into the face of his visitor be- fore be answered. Then he slowly stroked his long, white beard, and coughed violently, all the while watching every movement in the countenance of the im- patient gentleman before him. ‘“* What’s the matter with the man?’ burst from Mr. Argent. ‘‘ Why don’t you answer me? This is the address you sent me. (I sup- = it was you that sent it.) You are the man am to see, and you told me you could give me information of my daughter—for a considera- tion.” oem ‘* What do you know about her?” The question came s) sharply that Piper fairly started, ‘** Before I answer that questionI must request }. a fee.” ‘* Of course. Extortion! the world,” said the banker, Piper did not answer, but his small eyes twin- kled watchfully under the bushy white eye- brows, ** How much do you want?” ** A bundred dollars.” ‘* A hundred devils!” burst out Mr. Argent, ** Why, you infernal old blackmailer, ’'ll—” He sprung half-way from his chair in a threat- ening manner, but recovering himself at once, sunk back again, ‘¢ Well, why not?” hemuttered. ‘TI can easily put the police on the job if he tries to cheat me.” Then aloud, ashe took out a well-filled pocketbook, and handed the old man five twenty dollar bills: ‘*Here is your money. Now, for your in- formation. You seem to know all about the circumstances surrounding my daughter’s dis- appearance.” ** T do,” was the quiet response of Piper as he eagerly clutched the money and hid it some- where in the folds of his dressing-gown. Pertaps if the banker could have seen that the rigot hand -of the venerable-looking old man held a long dirk-knife with a grasp so tight that his knuckles were white with the strain,be would have hesitated before addressing his companion in such forcible language as he had used, Piper waiked to the door’and fastened it, the banker following him with his eyes, ‘* Now, sir, if you will follow me to this corner I will try and give you the information you seek,” wheezed Piper, pointing to a small table on which was something covered with a cloth. The banker, with a mystified expression, in which there was traceable a slight element of disdain obeyed the other’s directions, taking his stand in front of the table. Suddenly the room was in pitch darkness. The window had been obscured by a heavy shutter that excluded every ray of daylight, and had yet been moved almost noiselessly at one touch of the old man’s hand. ‘What does this mean?’ demanded the banker, sternly. ‘* Hush! Do not disturb the occult influences that are about to work,” replied Ezra, in an af- fected voice of deep solemnity. “Occult fiddlesticks! Open that shutter, or I'll have you arrested before you are five min- utes older. Do you think you can humbug me?” returned Mr, Argent, angrily. He could not see whereabouts the old man was, but that instinct which no one can explain told him that his companion was very tear to him. His supposition was confirmed when he heard a That is the way of 2 mm agree Om cr armies: Se —KK Flute, the Singer Detective. hollow voice just in front of him command him to look downward, He did as he was told and then started back in astonishment, while a chilly feeling of preter- natural horror ran down his back. His hands dropped and rested upon the edge of the table, while right between them he saw a disk of metal or liquid—be could not tell which —lighted up by a phosphorescent blaze that was yet quite clear and transparent, ‘* Look fixedly into the bowl and see what science bas to reveal,” broke forth the hollow tones of Ezra Piper. The banker, scarce knowing what he did, gazed at the disk until his eyes seemed to burn. ‘* Heavens!” he ejaculated. The disk, which had been clear as crystal, had become cloudy, as if sediment bad been stirred up in a bowl of muddy water. The clouds moved bither and thither and assumed fantastic shapes that at last became. concentrated in the center. ‘*What do you see?’ asked the solemn voice of the white-haired old man. The banker strained his eyes as he intensified his gaze, ; “T see,” he murmured, ‘* my Lucy—my daugh- ter—my Lucy!” A noise that might have been a chuckle quick- ly turned into a cough issued from that part of the room in which stood Ezra Piper, but the banker did not notice it. He was completely absorbed in the vision that was being revealed to him in the phosphorescent bow!l. The clouds in the center had at last come to a standstill and showed the face of a young girl, which the banker recognized at once as that of his daughter. ; For a moment he looked yearningly at it. Then, with a wild cry, he reached out to touch it with his hand, As he did so a cold grasp on his wrist held him like a steel vise, and a voice that he did not recognize hissed: ** Put your hand down!” At the same instant the clouds spread over the face, and after a few seconds’ agitation, disap- peared, leaving the disk clear and transparent as before, and still lighted up by the blue glare that came from he knew not whence, * What jugglery is this?’ demanded Mr. Ar- gent, as he vainly strove to release his wrist. **'You shall see directly.” It was the wheezy voice of Piper. Notrace of the solemn aecents of the venerable old man could be detected in it. Then the cold hand released the banker’s’wrist and the mysterious bowl vanished. ‘“*Would you have further information?” asked Piper, in the hollow, grave-yard voice again. ‘* What can you show ms mofe?” ‘“*T can show you where your daughter is and how to reclaim her.” ** Do so, then.” ‘Three hundred dollars.” “Why, you—you—” spluttered the banker, as he tried in vain to penetrate the thick darkness that surrounded bim, ‘“-You were told to bring money with you, were you not?” said the old man, coldly. ‘° Yes, but—” ‘¢ Three hundred dollars.” ‘*Let me have light enough to count it then.” Even as he spoke, the shutters fell from the windows, and the winter sunlight streaming in, showed him the white-baired old man standing on the opposite side of the table, upon which the mysterious something covered with a cloth was the only suggestion of the vision he had just seen, The small eyes of Piper were scanning him closely. The banker drew forth his pocketbook and took out three hundred dollars in bills, which he handed to Ezra Piper. The latter’s fingers were just closing over the money, when there was a sudden crasb, the shutters flew up, and in the total darkness Piper received a mighty blow in the chest that stretched him at full length upon the floor, while a voice hissed savagely in his ear: * You cur!” The banker stood petrified.. He could not see anything in the profound darkness, and the irruption of another person into the room a parent from thin air was enough to startle any ordinary human being. With the sound of Piper’s fall and the two words of indignation there was a dead silence for several seconds, Then there was a slight bustle, a whispering of which he could not distinguish the purport, and his two wrists were seized—one by a hot, ee ‘ dry hand, and the other by a clammy, cold one, | The latter he at once recognized as that which had held him before, and knew it to be that of the aimable old gentleman with the long white hair and beard. The other he rightly conjec- tured to be that of the strenger who had dis- turbed the seance so rudely, and who had stig- matized the sage as a ‘‘ cur,” “ What—” Mr. Argent would have added, “does this mean?” but no sooner was the first word of the sentence out of his mouth than a wooden gag was forced between his teeth, and a cord that held it was tightly tiea around his bead, cutting his cheek and causing him excruciating pain, This was relieved almost directly, however, his captors evidently not desiring to burt him un- necessarily. Silently be was dragged forward. He had not been moved from the position he had_all along occupied in front of the table, and it seemed to him that he was being taken directly through the wall of the room opposite the win- dow, ; A draught of cold air struck him, and he knew that he was being taken through a door that he had not observed while the room was light, A dozen steps further, and then a gruff voice whispered: ‘* We are going down-stairs.” Instinctively the banker put forth his foot cautiously, and found that he was at the head of a flight of stairs. He counted them as he descended, still held on both sides, Ten steep stairs of stone or brick. Still pitch dark. He was evidently in a cellar, As he settled this in his mind, a hand- kerchief was passed around his eyes and a heavy sack or covering of some kind put over his head. Then he heard another door open and through the thick sack on his face he detected a faint odor of horses, He was dragged swiftly along until he felt a still colder current of air on his hands, which were the only part of his ‘body exposed. He knew that he was no longer in a house, but whether he was ona street or only in a back yard he could not tell, There was no noise, ‘aye the occasional impatient pawing of horses’ noofs. Again warmth and a strenger smell of horses. ' Then the sack and bandage were removed from | his face and the gag from his mouth, and he found himself in astable lighted by two win- dows high up in the walls. He looked quickly to see what his captors were like, He saw a tall, dark man, with white bair and a small, sneaking-looking fellow, with whiskers, mu-tache and a flabby face. Norman Roundel and Ezra Piper. ‘‘ Where is the old man?” gasped the banker, in astonishment. ** He’s at home. What do you want with him?’ asked Roundel, gruffly. ‘* My— my—daughter.” ‘* We are taking you to her.” ‘You villains! You lie! Til hand you over to the police as soon asI get away from you. 1— ‘‘ Exactly!” sneered Roundel. ‘‘ As soon as you get away! I’m glad you put that in. Here, beauty, shove him into the coupe.” __ The last command was addressed to Piper who stood grinning at the otber side of the banker, but without relaxing his hold of the prisoner’s right wrist, Roundels clutch being on the other one. ‘ With a dexterous movement, Roundel jump- ed behind the banker, and locking bis arms around him, held him securely so that Piper could let him go, - There were two horses in the stable. They tarned toward Piper as he went to their heads, They evidently knew him. In five minutes he had them _ harnessed to a close carriage of rather remarkable appearance such as might belong to a family of redu gentility. f i, The banker stood watching Piper’s proceed- ings in silence. The gag had been replaced in his mouth and he could not utter even a whimper, bad he desired to do so, “ Ready?” asked Roundel, at last, “ Yes.” “Open the door.” « all right. The door of the carriage was opened, and Mr. Argent was bundled in, the white-haired scoundrel following him, and closing the door and curtains. 1 A a a a 4 y ‘ my | ‘ vg a *~
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4, ” > oh 7 = — fai ge a, Bae eae Piper mounted to the driver’s seat, and the door of the stable opening and closing automati- cally, drove rapidly out toward the suburbs. The stable was in a quiet alley, and there were no inquisitive idlers to note their depar- ture, But scarcely had they turned into the street that led directly toward tne Jersey meadows when a lithe, active figure sprung upon the back of the carriage, and rode, unknown to the driver or to the occupants of the vehicle, with a supreme disregard of the discomforts of his perch among the spikes. It is possible that he was going to work some- where in the country, for he was dressed in rough working-clothes, and had splashes. of whitewash all over him. He was none other than the man who had rescued Ezra Piper from a watery grave in the North River, and who is not entirely unknown to the reader as Git Thar Owney. : CHAPTER VIII, THE OLD WOMAN IN THF WHITE NIGHT-CAP. Wuen Dennis Carrigan so effectually ended his fight with Ezra Piper by throwing him over- board he was for the momeut stunned by what he had done. Ten he saw the laboring man with the white- wash on his mustache leap after the tenor, and rescue him with apparently little effort. “The shpalpeen!” commented Dennis, ‘he couldn’t be drownded, in coorse, I might ha’ knowed that, so I mig ht.” With this vnflcaoniiaet reflection he watched the two dripping figures dragged on board and taken to the engine-room. Then, finding that no one seemed to trouble themselves about him, he sauntered to the front of the boat in the foz, and waited until the ferry slip in Jersey City should be reached. He looked as well as he could in tho fog to see what had become of the young lady who had been the cause of all the excitement, but she was nowhere in his vicinity. “Faith! What does it matter to me? She’s a purty gurrl, [ guess, out it’s none o’ my busi- ness where she’s gone,” he reflected, as he step- ped briskly off the boat. He had ‘hardly reached the street when he felt a light touch on his.arm, and turning shar ly, found the young lady at his elbow. beg your pardon, but I am almost a stran- ger in Jersey City,” said a sweat voice that somehow did not sound altogether unfamiliar to Dennis. “* Indade, then, I pity ye, for Jarsey is a noice place to kim ter, whin you are sort o’ toired 0’ the foon an’ divarshun uv Noo Yorrk.” Yes, yes,’ hastily, “but I want to find a little street called Hackensack Place,” ‘Well, now, be the powers, that’ a big joke.” ** Joke?” “Vis, for sure don’t I live there meself.” “You” “Vis, none other.” “ Then perhaps you know the person I am looking for.” ‘*Divil doubt—I beg your pardon! I m’ane yis, very loikely,” ‘** His name is Dennis Carrigan.” “What? An’ is it Dinnis ye be lookin’ fur? | Well; burroo! If this ain’t a picnic. Why, I’m that same mon!” The two were walking along as they talked, but the girl stopped suddenly as Dennis made this announcement, and lifting her vail, show- ed the pretty face of Blanche Rogers’ to the astonished Irishman, ‘¢ Well, be the powers, who'd ha’ thought it? Miss Lucy ! Why, your pa’s: been a-hunting for you everywhere, an’—an’— ‘Why, how is it that you oe me? I do not think I bave ever met vou before.” “‘Qch! Bliss the purty facouv ye. An’ dye think a mon would ever forgit ye when he’d once seen ye? Haven’t ye been down to the bank beyant, an’ havn’t I seen ve from me own little office whin ye did not think I was ob- sarvin’ ye? Sure, I know ye, Miss Lucy Argent, right well.” “* Well, Mr. Carrigan, I want you to help me. IT was going to your house. Is it far from here?” ** Jist a small bit of a walk, that’s all.” ‘Then let us go there, so that I can talk to you uietly. ure, an’ won’t our small house be honored by yer prisence? Come on.” The girl dropped her vail and walked swiftly by the side of her good-natured companion, who strode along with a swelling bosom, and a balf- defined wish thatsome one would offer to injure Flute, the Singer ONE G e e the young girl that he might have the satisfac- tion of laying another of her enemies low. A narrow court in a rather thickly populated part of the city was reacked at last, and Dennis announced it as Hackensack Place. In anotber moment the two were ina small kitchen, with a cot-bed in one corner. A fire was burning in a little kitchen stove, and there was a general atmosphere of coziness that was delightful after the chilly ride across the river in the fog. Dennis bustled about, talking all the while. He explained that he was his own housekeeper, but that the landlady always lighted his fire, so that his room would $be warm when he came home from the bank in the morning. Then he made coffee, and bringing out bread and butter, invited the girl to eat and drink, “An? phat can I do for ye, Miss Lucy?” asked Dennis, when the meal was in full progress. ne My name is Blanche Rogers now, Dennis. Please cail me Blanche,” corrected the girl. ‘*Sure, an’ lll call ye anything ye say, an’ Blanche is a pur ty name, though not as enticin’ as Lucy, I don’t think, x “Tm afraid you’ve kissed the Blarney Stone some time or other, Dennis.” ‘* Faith, an’ if I bac Pd niver find toime to say anything else but compliments for ye, Miss Luc But tell me phat I can do for ye.” 5 Tiere is a scheme on foot to rob my father’s an ” “Phwat? Rob the bank? Where are the dhirty shpalpeens? Show them to me! Bring em out.” Dennis arose from the table aud danced abont the room in excitement. Blanche held up her hand to cool him down. ‘Now, Dennis, we must lay some other plan to catch these thieves. I have already thought of something.” ‘* Sure you’re as shmart as ye’re purty. Phat is it now?” ** You shall see. But, in the first place, can you tell me what became of the man who jump- ed into the river after that sneaking fellow you knocked off the ferry-boat. I looked for him afterward, but he got off the boat beforeI could speak to him.” ‘* You knew him, then?” ‘I knew who he was,” was the girl’s guarded answer, ‘* Well, be the powers, I was so much shuck up that I didn’t see an’ body, ree I believe I’d know both those fellers if [ ’em ag’in, d’ye moind?? s Are you too tired to take a walk with me? ‘Dennis@id not reply in words, but putting on his ulster and cap, he buttoned himself up, and waited while the girl put on her own hat and cloak. In another minute they were on the street, and walking briskly up-town. They had reached a rather unfrequented street, and the girl was looking about her as if doubtful which way to go, when suddenly a crushing blow descended on the head of Dennis, knocking him senseless, while at the same time a heavy cloak was thrown over Blanche’s head, and she felt herself dragged into a house, and heard the door sbut with a bang. efore she could recover herself, she was hurried up a flight of stairs, and into a room, ~ door of which was closed and double- “She tore the covering from her face and look- ed around. She was in a small, meanly-fur- nished bedroom without a window, the only light that reached the apartment coming from a small opening in the wall, that looked u a small hall in the interior of the house. Phere was evidently a window in the hall, by which A ht was given, second-hand, to the room, but Blanche could not see it, In fact, she could not look through the opening at all, for it was very near the ceiling. - wrapped her cloak around her, and shiv- Who had so boldly attacked her in the broad, open daylight, on the outskirts of a big city? She could not tell certainly, but she had a Mp! 2 shrewd idea as to the identity of her cap- vrs. She had not eens fo wait before her suspicions “t ne era Dea ee e door opened and two men entered. ‘‘ G@ood-morning, Miss Blanche!” “It was the wheezing voice of Ezra Piper. “* What does this mean?” demanded the girl, 5a t means that we desire the pleasure of your society for a few jhours, that’s all.” ** You wretch!” os Beer Here the other man, wuose distinguishing features were snow-white hair, and a heavy, sturdy frame, joined in: ‘** Keep quiet and you will not be injured. I « am afraid that you will not be able to get to the theater to-night, but they will get along some- how without you; I have no doubt.” “Norman Roundel, I know your real character, and you shall suffer for this,” * *““Of course; Lam suffering now. Thisisa suffering wor Jd, ” sneered Roundel. ‘‘But I must bear it. I guess you will need a fire up here. Itisrather cold. Dll send a woman up to light a fire. ‘*‘ Come, Ezra.” Piper looked at Blanche for a moment, and when Roundel’s back was turaed momentarily, made a deprecatory sign, as if to assure the girl that he was acting against his will, and would assist her if it were in his power. Blanche tossed her head contemptuously and turned away. She knew Piper too well to place any trust in his protestations. The two men disappeared, and the door was again carefully fastened on the outside. ‘They know that I have found out their in- tentions, and that I was trying to entrap them,” mused the girl, ‘* What a triumph it would have been for me if I had been suc- cesful! My poor father! I know he feels griev- ed over my behavior in running away, and if I could bave caught those wicked men in the very act, and made him confess that his little girl had saved the bank, he would have for- given me for my way wardnuess. ip She walked up and down the room halfa dozen times in extreme agitation, as she resum- ed the thread of her reflections: ““Heigho! I don’t like being away from home! There was a little pleasure in the sense of hberty at first, but I should like to be in my own comfortable home with my dear father, once more. I don’t thinkI shail be quite as obstinate and self-willed when I get back again. This has taught me a lesson.” Lucy Argent (or Blanche Rogers, as we shall continue to call her), was not really afraid for herself, She was too near New York, with its splendid police system, she told herself, to ve in much personal peril, but it was impor tant, for the sake of the bank, that sbe should regain her freedom now. “T must and will get out of here somehow,” she muttered, grinding her pretty white teeth, as she took a small silver-mounted revolver from her dress and examined it critically. ** Fortunately for myself, I know how to use a pistol, as perhaps Mr, Piper and Mr. Roundel may discover to their discomfort before they are much older.” A slight noise at the door caused her to return the weapon hastily to her pocket. An or. woman in a large flapping white ene opened the door and stepped into the room. In her band she carried a bucket con- taining kindling-wood, og and coal, Without a word, the old woman walked across the room, and kneeling down in front of the rusty grate, soon had a cheery fire under way. With a beating heart, Blanche saw that the old woman had forgotten to close the door. There was a space of perbaps six inches, through which the girl looked out into the gloomy hall beyond. i? she could get through the doorway without being observed by the old woman, perhaps sbe might yet find some means of defeating the schemes of her enemies. It was worth trying! Grasping her revolver, she crept cautiously toward the door, with her eye fixed on the old woman, who, kneeling before the grate, was blowing the fire. The girl bad hardly made up ber mind what to do in case the eld woman should turn around, but in a vague sort of way expected to shoot her and then make a dash for liberty. Nearer atid nearer to the door, and still the @d woman blew the now lively blaze in the grate. Two more steps, and the girl would have her hand on the door. She took one step, and had her nasi extended to pull the door open, when--the old woman arose to her feet and sprung toward her, Blanche tried to raise her revolver and fire, but the weapon caught in her dress, Before she could disentangle it, the old woman was upon her ana had grasped her wrists. ‘* Don’t fire, for your life!” she whispered. Blanche started, and her eyes opened wide in astunishment, “Don’t you know me?” asked the old woman, eagerly, below her breath,
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oat aera ae aa [aires EOI Ba it pA a3 shinee ting — Pane a me ~ Lae A ST ~ penn s onsiiae ~ “ch aaa mm ~ ne en 7 a ~ —y = a " = + — > ee a nero om —— : mve a . rt i 4 : Ty Tem shrieks but for their feebleness, ia By ‘Git Thar” Owney was a good actor, and he | [ Sa could impersonate a decrepit old woman to the Sure Oi’m kilt intarely!” he “Ow! You murtherin’ villain! “Curse the old fool! Shut up!” Roundel made a threatening movement as if he would have kicked the prostrate Owney, but Blanche, seizing him by the arm, exclaimed in ss indignant tones: Y ie “Are you a man at all, to think of kicking.a r creature old enough to be your grand- mother? Shame! Shame!” Roundel, tossing his head, turned away, and walked toward the fireplace. Could he have seen the grinning face hidden in the nightcap, it - is more than likely that he would have bestowed the threatened kick witb a hearty good will that would have left Mr. Owney sore for a week. “The old gentleman is completely infatuated with this lady that he intends to make Mrs. Argent, and she can make him do anything. I happen to know her. My life bas been a varied one, and I have been brought into contact with all sorts of people.” ‘6 Well?” “bis woman who has gained such control of your fatber is simply an_adventuress, originally from San Francisco, She bas somebow found her way into good society, and by means known only to herself has got Mr. Argent not only to propose to her, but to submit himself almost ome, to her dictation in every action of his ie, ‘“ What a splendid liar the man is,” muttered Git Thar Owney, who, it is needless to say, was listening intently to Roundel’s words, Roundel turned sharply. His hearing was wonderfully acute. But when he saw the old woman standing at the doorway, looking into the hall as if to see that no one stole up un- awares, he was satisfied that the muttering he had heard was nothing more than the querulous grumbling of age. “What do you want me to dof” asked Blanche, “Your father has promised this woman to take from the bank safe to-night a heavy sum of money—$30,000—which he will place in her hands, to enable her to invest it in a ulation that she promises shall yield him rich returns. As you kuow, he cannot raise as much morey as that personally just now.” “cc We 9” ‘“‘ He has every confidence in this woman, who he believes to be the soul of honor, and whom he intends very shortly to marry. Of course, when she gets the money, she will disappear, and yout father will find out, when too late, that he as been a miserable dupe.” “Well? “Certain friends of your father’s—true friends—are trying to frustrate this woman’s designs, and have persuaded your father to come here.” Persuaded him?” “Yes, for his own good.” ‘‘ And you mean to say that my father is here —in this house?” “ce Yes. ” $ ‘* A prisoner?” ‘* By no means, He is the guest of friends.” “Take me to bim.” “That is just what I came to propose,” Blanche moved toward the door, but Roundel step in front of ber. “Stay. There is something I want you to do when you meet him, Will you promise me to do it? Roundel’s back was toward Owney, who was looking earnestly into the girl’s face. She was about to refuse pn rig eg & to give her promise, but Owney motioned to her to say yes, and she calmly answered: ‘What do you wish me to do™ : “Simply this. Go to your father, in this house, now, tell him that you have just heard where he is. That the person in whom he puts the greatest trust, has found you and has sent you to him,” bi =” Pay _ “He will of course be glad to see you. Then tell him that this person wants the combination of the bank safe, sary, or it would not be asked. As a proof give him this letter, which is written in a hand that moments while I prepare your father, not know that you are here.” Then, to Owney, be shouted at the to That it is absolutely neces- you and I am not disposed to make any pretense w, Roundel turned awa with a toss of his head. “ As you please. ell, just wait here a few He does of his voice, while he inted to Blanche, “Stay here till I come ack,” If he had not been so excited over Blanche’s acquiescence, he might have been suspicious of the old woman’s sudden recovery of ing, for she understood at once what be wanted, without troubling him to repeat his command. er hear- As it was, he simply made a threatening mo- tion in her face,’ asa hint of what he would do if she failed to take care of the prisoner, and strode away down the dark ball. Owney shut the door with a bang, and having taken the key from the outside of the doo locked it, so that no one could get into the room without bis assistance. Throwing back his flapping nightcap, he turned toward Blanche, who ran forwar and took his hands in a supplicating grasp. : ‘Now, Miss Argent, be cool, and we will fool these people so badly. that they won't know whether they are in Jersey City or Jericho.” ‘* What shall I do?” “Listen. They will take you into a room be- - low the level of the street—a kitchen. There ou will find your father alone—apparently. But every word you say will be overheard. The arn about the woman going to ma your father is a lie, made out of the whole cloth—not a vestige of truth in it.” ‘| know that, of course,” cried Blanche, with a curl of ber beautiful lip. . “Yes, The way they expect to deceive your father is to make him suppose that you are a messenger from me. The message you are to deliver to him and that letter are both so art- fully worded that, if he was not on bis guard, he might give you the combination of the bank safe, thinking it was for me, and that I wanted to use it in scme way in the capture of the thieves, Your father has unlimited confidence in me.” “ And I am sure that you deserve it.” “Thank you. But that has nothing to do with the matter. When Roundel comes back, follow him, pretend to do what be asks you, and leave the rest to me, I shall be close enough to you, even if you don’t see me.” ‘*T will obe you in everything.” “Good ‘girl,* returned Owney with an ap- proving smile. ‘‘ But look out he’s coming back, “Git Thar ” Owney pulled his nightcap over his face again, and unlocked the door. It was pushed opeb, knocking tha detective behind it, and Norman Roundel appeared. , “Step this way, Miss—Miss— Argent.” Without a word, Blanche obeyed, walkin behind her conductor along the dark hall, an down two flights of stairs, Following them, + abe as ashadow, was the old woman in ber white nightcap, behind which the resolute features of “ Git Thar” Owney in- dicated that a critical moment was not far away. CHAPTER X. * A BLOCK GAME. Into the pitchy darkness marched Roundel. He had taken the girl’s reluctant hand and was
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= a Pe ee ee ee eee leading her to the very front of the house, as sbe supposed, though she could not see, Owney kept close behind them, until with an oath, Roundel turned and grasping him by the arm, swung him around and sent him stagger- ing against the wall. At the same momenta jd opened and shut quickly, and Owney was alone. ‘‘A very affable gentieman that, but I think he will find bimself badly fooled if he thinks he can*getaway with ‘Git Thar’ Owney.” As he thus reflected, Owney opened another door and found himself in a cellar, with a boarded wall on one side, through the chinks of which streamed the light of alamp or candle. He put his eye to one of these hinks and took a survey of the apartment, . Its only occupant was an individual with a flabby face and weak eyes—Ezra Piper. The little tenor was crouching over a feeble fire ina rusty grate, and was the picture of discontent, ‘¢So, you’re there all right, are you? Well, I suppose you are getting the worst of it, as usual. Tiger Jim has a knack of making things comfortable for himself, while his partners do the hard work and get none of the booty.” Ezra moved uneasily and looked around, as he grumbled, in audible tenes: ‘““Where’s that cursea old woman, I wonder? Why don’t she come and get some coffee ready? [don’t see why they’ve put an old image like that in the ranch, anyhow!” Owney chuckled. “There are many things you don’t under- stand Mr, Piper,” he muttered, *‘ but you'll find out all about them by-and-by. I think I have both you and Rounde ey where I want you,” Keeping his eye still at the chink, he was startled by a. knock at the door of the room in which Ezra sat. The latter jumped as he heard it, ~ iy’ then, gee . nee if he understood what it meant, wen the door and it without hesitation. eee ‘* Get up to the hole there, Ezra,” commanded Roundel’s voice,as that worthy entered and care- fully fastened the door, ‘Ts ne there? Ah!” ( Bl ig A 2a S eee sigh and pressed his hand is side over the spot where the hea st Sea c si oundel bestowed an unceremonious ra n the side of the tenor’s head that Spcekel ail the a ~e - : ———-
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——EeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeee ee ’ - i * So ee “ ci Lyn lon aa i Ta ly ah a pW * » i “ Flute, the Singer Detective. ane ale yon os ee a 12 FSI PS rt APD ry SRT aes — Pee Reese ee ab thr is ee he ee : 438. across the outside of the dirty window, and, an anything Owney could tell, were immov- able. He forced open the window, which swung on hinges toward him, and tried the bars. To his joy, they were not any more secure than the shutter bad been. He wrenched two of the bars out of place, and, losing no more time than was necessary, crawled through the opening. He had got half-way through, when the muz- zles of two revolvers were pushed against his face, while the wheezy voice of Ezra Piper gave utterance to a sarcastic: ‘‘ Excuse me.” CHAPTER XI. THE PURSUER PURSUED. Ir was seven o’clock in the evening of the day on which the events narrated in the last chapter ‘took place. The doors of the Euterpia Theater had just been opened, and a few straggling individuals, who were afraid of not being in time for the performance, were going in and taking their seats in the parquette, while in the gallery the usual crowd of boys that always rushes in early to secure front seats, was making the theater echo to the noise of heavy shoes jumping wildly over benches, as their owners went almost headlong to the front of the gallery, at the im- minent risk of pitching over into the body of ‘the house, On the stage things presented that gloomy ap- pearance peculiar to the sacred regions behind ‘the curtain an hour before it rises. Only a few of the performers had arrived, and Peter Graul, who was always the first to arrive, was fussing about, directing changes in the set- ting of the stage, warning the gas-man to be more particular about turning the lights up or down, as the exigencies of the opera might require, and making a nuisance of himself generally. ‘¢ Don’t see how it is!” he grumbled, ‘* but ever since the ‘‘ Mikado” has been played at the Euterpia Theater, I have had trouble to get enough Japanese umbrellas andfans, The same with everything else I want. That new tenor was to have come this morning for rehearsal, and he never showed up. Don’t know whether he will sing to-night or not. Now Roundel oo me word that he is sick. What shall I do?” He went to his dressing-room grumbling, and began removing his street clothing, preparatory to making up as the Mikado, but came out al- most directly without coat or vest, and with his suspenders dangling behind him, * Great Ceesar! bat am I to do? I don’t care about Roundel. I[ have two or three men in the chorus that can play Pooh-Bah at a pinch, but the tenor is out of the question. I shall go crazyeyet, over that part of Nanki-Poo, I know T shall!” ; Poor Graul went back to his dressing-roon in a most unenviable frame of mind. He was really nonplused. Suddenly he darted out with a wild look of surprised joy in his eye. ‘© Who is that? Where is he? Where is he? Show bim to me! Quick! Quick!” he yelled, as he tumbled over a man who was kneeling “down to fasten a small tree to the stage. The stage-manager got up at once without swearing at the man who had inadvertently up- set him. He was too much excited over some- thing he had heard just before to notice a trifling personal mishap. ‘© Who do you want, sir?” ‘Want? ho should I want? Confound it! ‘Where the deuce is he?” Graul danced about, looking behind scenery, into dark corners, and up at the “flies,” ina state of frenzy. He was too excited to know what he was doing. ’ He bounced bebind a pile of austy-painted clouds, and with a cry of rapture, seized some one by the hand and shook it violently. “Darn me if I didn’t know I heard your voice. Hurry up and dress. Here it is getting on for eight o'clock, and I thought I should have no Nanki-Poo, Why didn’t you come before?” The exited stage-manager delivered himself of these observations with such volubility, that the person whom he addressed had no chance to answer, but could only wave his hand in token of aquieseence when requested to dress for the character of Yum-Yum’s lover. ‘*“You should bave come earlier,” continued ‘Graul, who, now that be was relieved of his anxiety about the arrival of some one to sing the tenor part, was inclined to be somewhat, dicta- torial. The tenor singer stepped from behind the | clouds, and the lights of the stage over his head, | technically known as “border lights,” showed | the face and figure of ‘‘ Git Thar” Owney. The young detective looked as cool and col- lected as usual, and no one would have supposed from his mauner and appearance that he bad passed through adventures of the most exciting character since he sung in the opera of ‘* The Mikado” on the night before. ‘Tl am sorry that I could not get here earlier, Mr. Graul,” he said, when at length the stage- manager’s breath failed him for an instant. ‘* But [ had some important private matters to attendto. Iam in plenty of time for the per- formance, however. It will not take me long to dress.” ‘Have you seen Roundel?” asked Graul, ig- a ie” remarks, ‘“‘“You have seen him then,” interrupted the other impatiently. ‘ Well, where is he?” ‘‘ He will not be here to-night, I am afraid.” ‘He won't? How do you know? Where is he? The skulking vagabond! Vl make him come. Ill sue him for breach of contract! [Pll break every bone in his body, Tl have him sent to the Penitentiary! I'll play bis part my- self to-night! Pll publish bim in the ne ag Tat at make him go on and sing to-night! Pll— b But here Peter Graul’s voice again failed him and although he tried tu continue speaking, he could only give utterance to incoherent sounds that floated among the cordage and lumber of the stage and finally lost itself in the dark space above, “Git Thar” Owney did not wait for the stage- manager to commence again, but retired to bis dressing-room to attire himself for his part in the opera. Graul looked after him, and then, having made up his mind that it was of no use to waste time in grumbling at the inevitable, went back to his own dressing-room, thankful that his tenor was all right, and that he had a substitute for the erratic Roundel. In due time the curtain arose and the opera began, There was a goodly-sized audience, and the theater was bright and cheerful. The cue was given for Nanki-Poo, and Owney walked upon the scene, and sung his first song to applause that was even more vigorous than on the preceding night. As he sung his eyes roved over the auditorium and a half-smile lurked on bis lips as his glance rested for afew seconds upon two men who sat > the parquette circle half concealed by a gild- post. Norman Roundel and Ezra Piper! _ At the instant tbat he saw them, they recog- nized him thgpugh the paint and powder on his face and in spite of his ridiculous theatrical wigs. * & You see him?” growled Roundel, under, his breath, ; ‘* Yes, curse him!” responded Piper. ‘ Tt’s all very well to curse him, If you had had any pluck he would not have been here to- night.’ “* But what was I todo? He—” Roundel cast a contemptuous glance upon the flabby-faced little man, and replied: ‘* Of course! You couldn’t do anything. You never can, I don’t know why I ever work with you at all.” Piper could have told him that the reason was because he was useful to the larger and bolder villain, but he did not say so, He only shrug- ged his shoulders humbly, and Roundel went on: “* When we had him all safe at the crib, you had to let bim walk out as comfortably as if he owned us all. Now, he’ll put the stop on that job as sure as we are bere now.” _ ‘* Well, I couldn’t help it. I did all T could. But be took me all of a sudden, grabbed “ Be tols, and was gone just when I thougnt ad him all safe.” ‘* Well, the game’s up now.” ‘Why? He hasn’t given us away yet. We've watched him, and we know that he bhasn’t had a chance to talk to the police, unless he did it in the few minutes we lost sight of him before he got into the theater.” Roundel was about to answer, but he saw that several people near him were looking in- dignantly at Ezra and himself for disturbing the audience by whispering, and he held bis perresiyad until the drop-curtain fell at the end of e act, ** Let us get out,” he whispered then. Without a word, Piper got up and left the theater, followed by his companion. At the moment that the two men disappeared, an eye was watching them through a sma)] hole in the curtain. The eye belonged to ‘‘ Git Thar” Owney. “ Hallo, Flute! Whatare you looking at out there? Have you made a mash?” The voice was that of Peter Graul, He was in high humor, The act had gone off very well, and the substitute for Roundel had played Pooh- Bah @s well as the regular baritone coul@ have done it. ‘‘ T haven’t made a mash yet, Mr. Graul. Not yet. But I hope to do so before ’'m many hours older,” answered Owney, slowly, and with a significant smile. £ “Ah, you rascal! That voice of yours is enough to captivate any girl. Stay in this com- pany, and you’ll find yourself the busband of an heiress before the erid of the season, I shouldn’t wonder.” With a dig in the detective’s ribs, he was walking away, chuckling to himsef, when Owney called him back: “ Mr. Graul.” ‘* Well, Flute?” ‘* fT should like a few words with you.” ‘‘ Go ahead, then. I shall have to call ‘Sec- ond Act’ directly. Time is precious just now.” ‘+ f won’t waste much time,” Owney drew the stage-manager close to him, and whispered in bis car. ** No?” exclaime’ Graul, starting back in as- tonishment. ‘t You can’t mean it.” ‘But Ido. Will you help me?” ‘Help you? Why, what bave you to do with it? Why not tell the police” ~ ‘* Because ’'m—” y Again the young man whispered, * Wha-a-a-t?” f “Fact, I assure you. Now, will you help me?” “Will I? Won't I?” “Good! I came here to-night for these rea- sons. One was to save you trouble in the per- formance—” ‘‘ Very much obliged to you, I’m sure, Mr.—” Owney held up his finger warningly, “Graham,” continued Graul, with a smile. ‘‘ There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” ‘* Nothing.” “Oh, ’m pretty sharp,” chuckled the stage- manager. ‘You can’t often catch Peter Graul asleep. ‘¢ The other two reasons that brought me to the theater were to see whether my men came here, and further, if they did, to throw them off guard,” ; ** Good!” ejaculated Graul, approvingly. “* Now—” “ Second act!” suddenly yelled the stage- manager, in a stentorian voice, Owney started. . Then he saw the reason that Graul had so rudely interrupted the conversa- tion, and he felt a great deal more respect than before for the stage-manager’s intelligence. One or two of the chorus men were hanging about very close to them, and with the curiosity of their kind, were trying to bear what was being said. The conference between Owney and Mr, Graul was broken up for the time, but they managed to exchange a few remarks during the performance, so that when the curtain fell at last a plan was perfected between them. The audience poured out of the theater, and a quarter of an hour after the performers began to leave the stage door. Opposite the door, in the deep shadow, two figures could have been discovered by any one with ia sharp eyes, provided he was on the lookout for watchers. Actors are always in a burry toget away from the theater when their work is done. The chorus girls left in groups of three and four, or singly. Tbe latter were generally joined by lovers or brothers, who saw them safely home. : ; The two men opposite kept their eyes on the doors, but seemed uninterested in all who emerged, until a young Man In the dtess that they both recognized as that of ‘Git Thar” Owney stepped tightly out of the doorway and walked away at a swift gait. He pa under a lamp, and the two men saw the blonde curls of the young detective with other personal characteristics that assured them that be was indeed the personage that they were after. “Curse him! We'll have him now!” hissed Roundel, as, with Ezra Piper at his heels, he went on the track of ‘‘ Git Thar” Owney with the dogged determination of a sleuth-hound,
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| da CHAPTER XII. AN UNSUSPECTED WATCHER, THE young man walked very fast, until he reached Broadway. ‘Then be got ona passing car that was going down-town, The two pur- suers instantly followed, remaining on the plat- form, while Owney went inside and sat down, evidently unconscious of their presence, At across street some distance below Union Square Owney alighted, brushing past Rouadel | and Piper, but evidently not seeing them, As before, they sprang after him, until he reached a quiet house, closely-shuttered and dark, in a narrow part of a dingy thoroughfare, He looked at the house carelessly, in the man- ner of any casual passer-by,and was passing on when his two pursuers sprung upon him, an while Roundel pulled him back by tightening an arm around his neck, Piper threw a sack over his head and muffled him so effectually that any outery would be impossible, ‘Mind he doesn’t pull a weapon,” whispered the bigger villain, ‘‘ and help me take him in.” ‘Allright. He can’t reach his pockets, I’m taking care of that,” returned Piper, as he pulled the sack further down and pinioned the arms of the captive. Roundel whistled softly with a peculiar inton- ation, at the same time dragging Owney close to a small cellar door that was scarcely noticeable beneath the parlor windows of the darkened house, An answering whistle of the same kind came from below, and the cellar door was cautiously pulled inward a little way. ‘* All right!” wheezed Piper. __ ‘* Who sez so?” asked a gruff voice from with- in, “ Tt’s all right!” growled Roundel. ‘Open the door, but don’t show a light.” “Ob! Very well, captain, ez long ez I know. But [ ain’t a-goin’ to be caught disobeying my sooperiors, an’ [ was told ter let nobody in ’cept Tiger Jim an’ anybody ez he might bring with him,” grumbled the invisible person inside. At this juncture the patience of Norman Roun- del gave way, He kicked open the cellar door, savagely, and throwing his captive down the two or three steps that led to the cellar, pulled the door shut with a bang, and walked away briskly, with Piper close bahind him, “ That’s settled him, eh, Jim?” wheezed Piper, almost out of breath, “T hope so. But now for the job. You have your tools with you all right, I suppose? ** Cert.” ‘“* Come along, then.” Cautiously they made their way to the base- ment of the bank, and squeezing between the brick supports, described in a-previous chapter, at last found themselves in Mr. Argent’s private apartment behind the main room, — ‘“‘ Keep behind the door, out of sight, while I look around,” whispered Roundel. * All right.” Roundel lay flat upon the floor, and crawled out of the little room with the caution and silence of a Sioux Indian, His first act was to lower the gas-jets somewhat. He reached the front door, and crouching down behind the wooden portion of it, was de- bating within himself whether it would be safe to put his face to the glass and look out, when he thought of the key-hole, _ He put his eye to it; could see no one, He listened intently; could hear nothing except the tramp of footsteps on the frosty ground, some distance away, but sounding distinctly in the clear, sharp, wintry air. “Um! All right!” he thought, as he turned away to crawl back. ' _ Then he started, and with a howl of trepida- tion that he could not repress, ‘drew a long er from his sleeve, and waited. ear the door, standing in deep shadow, he <a n the figure of a man, with arm up- ised. ‘“ What’s the trouble?” asked Piper, in a low wheeze from the inner room, But the other did not answer, His eyes were fixed stonily upon the mysterious straager who was apparently waiting to deal a blow upon the burglars that ‘would end their career of useful- ness Wie hed ‘ this world is concerned. ci Ezra. No answer rary ment?” repeated e rned if mt if you rey pale ta hh be ed id undel was watching nknow1 in the shadow, who, with his band in the threat- ening attitude it had assumed when the burglar first saw him, was sp rately wai an aggressive movemen m struck. =e oe } | | / ee eS at en IS ey RS eee eae eo) | coolness that seemed to break thes Flute, the Singer Detective. Piper did not waste any more words. Drop- ping upon his stomach, in imitation of his part- | ner, he wormed himself out of the little room | and crawled toward the door. He saw Roundel crouching, with bis big in his hand, “What's the racket, Jim?” asked the tenor, in astonishment. ‘* What are you going to do with that knife? I don’t see no one that needs carving. And we'd better burry up over our work. It’s after 12 o’clock, and we have enough to do to keep us going for several hours.” The other did not reply. He seemed to be badge by a fear that was more than human, per could not understand the strange actions of his partner in crime, but he felt that Some- thing must be done at once, _Everything was quiet outside, so he did what his professiona] experience had long since taught him was unsafe—he got up from the floor and walked in the direction of the door He did not go straight toward the door, how- ever, but describing a circle, brushed aside the ambushed figure, with its arm upraised, with a 1] under him to knife which Roundel labored, and cau spring to his feet in amazement. ‘““ What a fool I am!” he ejaculated, between his clinchea teeth. “ Eb 9” ** Just a coat hanging on a peg, with a stick pushed through the sleeves to prevent wrinkling.” zra Piper grinned _ ‘Oho! And you thoughtit was some one lay- ing for us, eh? Well, that isa pretty good joke on Tiger Jim.” “Shut up and get to work,” was Roundel’s wrathful response, as he tore the coat from its place and threw it on the floor, spitefully. Piper knew his companion’s violent temper, and did not argue further with him, He re- | treated to the inner room and waited for Roun- del to join him. Had there been any one watching the bank from the street, the two intruders must inevita- bly have been discovered, for in the excitement caused by the discovery of the coat, they had stood up in front of the door with the ga:light, falling full upon them. ““Go behind the counter there and see that they haven’t fixed the alarm wires again,” com- manded Roundel, as he joined his companion in the president’s room. “* Pll go and look if you like, fixed, why the police should be with us now, for we have walked over the spot where the alarm would be worked half a dozen times, Youknow it extends eight feet from the door of the vault in every direction,” grumbled Piper, with the egg on his face that always maddened Roun- el. *“Go and see, curse you!” was all that he re- but if they are ied, The little man went quickly toward the coun- ter, but bad only taken two or three steps when he dropped flat and hissed: “Lay low! Police!” Roundel instinctively drew back bebind the door of the presiden’s room, but managed to look out without being observed. ‘Dobbs!” he muttered. ‘‘ What is he after, I wonder?” Dobbs, the police officer, walked majestically across the street, and mounting the steps of the bank, looked through the glass door in a busi- ness-like way. Piper had crawled behind the counter, and Dobbs, after a minute’s survey was just turnin around to depart, when his eye fell upon the coat that Roundel, in his rage, had thrown down upon the floor. ‘* Now, I wonder why that coat is there,” he reflected. ‘I could swear it was hanging up against the wali on my last round. I wonder whether I ought to report that.” He stood irresolutely looking at the coat, try- ing to account for its having been removed un- til a sudden thought struck him. ‘Of course, Why it must be Dennis. I guess he’s knocked it down, and was too lazy to pick it up. I bet he’s asleep up there in that cu dy+ hole of his. I wish I could see him.” pote hooks : te a Kae TT] wake him up, ave to wake whole street at the same time.” oo 7 i He kept his eyes fixed on Dennis Carrigan’s little hutch over the vault, but could not see undel spoke again: anything of the watchman, ah “If there is any trouble over this, remember Dobbs had not seen “Git Thar” Owney or | that you slide out the back way, and I'll go out any one connected with the bank since the pre- | through this door—if I can.” ot —. wae bol yee Jgrorent of the; “ , ex events tha nvolved the detective, ‘“‘ And we'll meet as soon as we can at the the president of the bank and Dennis Carrigan | crib where we put that cursed or e.” himself. “ Flute?” sila i BE re ‘ ; tt wlth NCI Ge tas Bil lia meatal Tie OAS " oy, aati RN ae ot PRR se iy ‘i a ad % ¥ M4 sisi n wi 4 ys) | } 4 I Po 4 ue F Re . ; “ sf , , en CEL -pepen CUTE mee Ye Art =— 0 SEES aro ec Seat NR AR ie Hit. 4 | | 13 He rattled the door again, and shouted through the keyhole. ‘‘Dennis! Dennis!” No answer. Roundel and Piper both kept so still that they hardly dared to breathe. Dobbs flattened his nose against the glass of the door and tried to make out the watchman in his hutch. ; **Darned fool! Why don’t he go away?” muttered Roundel, impatiently, as he watched the policeman through a chink in the door. ‘““What’s that, Tiger?’ asked Piper, whose hearing was almost supernaturally acute. “Shut up!” was the gruff response. Dobbs had, ceased rattling the door, but had kept his face flattened against the glass. He now turned the rays of his lantern fipon the in- terior of the bank, and sent a stream of light in every direction, ‘Tt’s all right, Mr. Dobbs,” commented Roun- del, inaudibly. ‘If you can discover anything and Roundel. | with that lantern, you are welcome to it.’ ‘*He’s going away,” observed Piper, in a tone of relief. ‘‘ But he was a long time making up his mind to it.” ' In truth, Dobbs bad pocketed his lantern and was standing on the steps with his back to the door as if in, doubt as to his next proceeding. Then he walked deliberately down the steps and isappeared. **Gone!” ejaculated Piper, as he crawled from behind the counter. ‘ “*Get to work, quickly, now,” was all his companion replied, ** Well, watch that door.” ‘*’'m watching. Is the electrical business al? right? That’s what you were going to see when Dobbs put in an appearance.” ‘That’s so. I had forgotten that.” With a quick movement, the flabby-faced little man slipped behind the counter, emerging a moment later with the information that the wires bad not been touched since he fixed them: the nigbt before. Then be opened his coat and revealed an as- sortment of tools of all kinds—crowbars, saws, files, chisels, etc.—hung around him on a belt, and so disposed that no one would suspect their presence as he walked along the street. In a business-like way, he commenced on the combination lock in the middle of the door, He poked and chipped away, making as little noise as possible, his mallet and the the tops of the chisels he used being thickly padded to deaden the sound of blows. ‘* Drop!” suddenly warned Roundel, as he hid himself behind the wooden portion of the front oor. Piper was behind the counter in a second, re- maining there until a chance passenger, who had been the cause of Roundel’s warning, had got safely past the building. ‘‘ All right!” proclaimed the sentinel, and Piper resumed his work. e worked away vigorously for ten minutes until the perspiration poured down his forehead, but the chilled steel of which the lock was made had so far resisted all his efforts. “ Tig ” “Well?” **T can’t move it,” ‘You've got to move it.” “IT can only do it in one way, and that isn’t sure,” ‘What do you mean—powder?” ““That’s what!” ‘“‘T would rather do it any other way. I don’t think a blast is safe bere. This is such a con- foundedly quiet neighborhood, that I'm afraid it would bring the police down on us right away. **'You mean Dobbs?” ‘*No. His beat is a rather long one, and he is at the other end of it by this time. He was put on this morning. I found that out.”- ‘You're pretty smart, Tiger,” said Ezra, ad- miringly. The lesser villain had considerable respect for the ability of his partner. ‘“* Well, Ezra, if it is to be powéer, try it at once, We must get into that vault somehow, and if we want to make money we must take chances, I suppose.” } ‘* Just as you say, Tiger. I'm working under your orders, you know. The little man, without more talk, proceeded to drill small holes around the lock, and was aying strict attention to his occupation, when
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I Se ce et Ai ee ee mee on acs! AS oie “ — - a a i saentad aetna * = ss — " : ‘ 6 14 ‘¢ Yes—or Owney—whatever he calls himself.” * Allright. This thing will be decided before long, I guess. I've found a soft place in the iron, and it won’t be very much tsouble to put the dynamite into it.” “Good! Now, Mr. Argent, [ think I shall be able to wipe off old scores and make myself rich at the same time,” muttered Roundel, in grating tones. Piper kept on noiselessly with his work, and 7 Roundel, with his eyes fixed on the street, wait- ed patiently for the completion of the prepara- tions for the explosion. The only sound was that caused by Piper’s chisel drilling into the safe, and that was so low as hardly to be distinguishable. And yet Roundel and Piper were not the only occupants of the bank, A figure stood straight and rigid behind the door of the president’s private apartment, watching the arg, se operations with eyes that geemed to emit a fiery glow im the shadow. CHAPTER XIII. WATCHING A CRIME. WHEN Roundel and Piper threw the young detective down the cellar steps of the house near ap os a funny thing happened. The cellar door was closed with 2 bang, and the man so suddenly made a prisoner rolled helplessly about the floor in pitchy darkness. ‘* Where the deuce am I?” he asked. The voice was not that of ‘‘ Glt Thar Owney.” ‘* Faith, an’ you’re all right,” said some one, cheerily. ‘‘I don’t know the name ov ye, but when I see thim shpalpeens uv a Roundel and Piper sind yer flyin’ down below, I know ez you’re a good mon, d’ye moind,” “Well, get a light and let me see where I am,” returaed the other, ‘* My name is Peter Graul, andj I’m stage-manager at the Euterpia Theater. I just wanted to help a young fellow in my company, and I let him make a fool of me by dressing me up in his clothes, just to throw a couple of scoundrels on the wrong scent. And now I’m here ina cellar in the middle of the night, with a wild Irishman who may kill and eat me for anything I can tell.” ‘*Och, faith! No one will ate yez, Yez are too tough for the jaws uv a dacent mon, now Oi’m a-tellin’ yez. But what was the name av the young feller ez you helped? I know a very dacent b’ye that do be singin’ tinor at, a theay- ‘* Arthur Graham is his real name, but he is generally called Flute.” ate ““Floot, is it, ye say? An’his r’ale name is Arthur Graham, eh? Well, now, don’t ye fool a yerself, His r’ale name do be ‘Git Thar’ rae wane: an’ don’t you —— it.” Las *** Git Thar’ Owney? hat, the detective?” ‘‘Jist that same, an’ no ither, sure as you’re not a handsome man.” ‘¢Git—Thar—Owney!” repeated Graul, slow- ly, in intense astonishment. ‘* Well, well!” As the reader will perhaps have conjectured, a the man in whose company Peter Graul had beed so unexpectedly thrown was none other than‘Dennis Carrigan, the watchman at Argent & Co.’s bank. How he came to be in this cel- lar in Broadway, when we left him in Jersey City a few hours before, will be explained in alue time. He lighted a candle while Graul was speaking, and showed a good-sized room, in which was a ; kitchen stove, an old table, two or three equally a oldtchairs, a cot-bed in one corner, and a door wa that might be that of a cupboard or a means of a. communication with another part of the house, ba. in the rear wall. 1S es “What do you think of this?’ asked Dennis, ie y as he put the candle in its candlestick, (made by | : ae sticking three nails into a flat piece of wood) % upon the table. oa, ‘* Who the deuce are you?” was Peter Graul’s polite question, he ignoring the other’s remark. an, ‘* Dinvis pane me private watchman at a = , bank down town beyant, loord of the s’ile, an’ a a |. Dimmocrat from ’way back!” returned the Irish- ee man, witb a merry twinkle in his eye. “And what are you doing here? I should ' think you ought to be at the bark, attending to 5 your duty.” ““ Well, be the same token, phwat are yez do- ing here yerself?” ‘True. What am I doing here, I should like ayy, to know. Open that cellar flap and let me out.” a _ Can't do it without ordhers,” « va ‘Orders from whom?” ar. ‘From a little mon ez ginerally gits his own ev way—from ‘Git Taar’ Owney.” . “ What—Flute?” a cot NE | ** Yis, that same, though I didn’t know that ‘— a Fs é et eR pe See fp eS Flute, the Singer Detective. he answered to any sich outlandish name as Floot, so I didn't.” “But I left him at the theater a little while ago. When did you see him?” ‘Sure, I saw him afoore you did this avenin’, Some of them shpalpeens what runs wid Tiger Jim an’ de gang brung me over here, after Owney got away from the place in Jarsey City, over the river beyant.” : “Jersey City—over the river,” repeated Graul, in a mystified way. ‘Och, sure ye don’t know onything about that; but it don’t matter. They shoved me in here, an’ put me in charge of a b’ye ez I knew in the old dart, but who has gone asthray over here, Well, for the sake uv ould toimes we had a dbrink together.” “ Well.” ‘“« An’ he wanted me to slape well, d’ye moind, so he put a little whoite powdher intil the glass that I was todrink outof. But [ didn’t drink it. ” ‘‘No, I—I—changed the glasses whin he wasn’t looking, and be drank the liquor wid the whoite powdher intil it, an’ he wint to slape in- stid.uv me.” Peter Graul enjoyed the joke as much as his companion, and the two indulged in a hearty guffaw in concert. ‘ ‘‘Bat where is the fellow? What did you do with hin when he went to sleep?” “ Pll show you.” Dennis went to the door in the rear wall, opened it wide, and—out stepped “ Git Thar” Owney: “Saints presarve us! Where did you come from?” “‘ Never mind,” answered Owney, in business- like tones. “I’m here, and that is enough. Get your overcoat on, Have you got weapons?” ‘Yes, [have my pistol. It’s the same wan ez I had before.” “* Well, see that it is all ready for instant use, You have a handy-billy?” ‘‘T have that.” “Good, Mr. Graul, you told mé at the theater to-night that you were willing to help me bring certain criminals to justice.” “cc Yes. ” “Well, now, I am a detective, generally known as ‘Git Thar’ Owney. I assume the name of Arthur Graham, for stage purposes. “There isa job on hand to-night, as *I have already intimated to you. If you will see me through, you will find it a profitable specula- tion, * Profit be hanged! Ill go with you because I like you, Flute, and because you have a better tenor than I have heard in comic opera since my own voice was in its prime,” returned Graul, as he seized the young detective’s hand in a hearty rip. Ki. Git* Thar” Owney pushed open the outer door a little and reconnoitered, The street was empty, apt me ‘Light out, and come,” he whispered back. The Irishman at once blew out the candle and taking Graul by the hand, led bim toward the steps. In another few seconds all were on the strreet, standing back in the shadow of the house, in obedience to the detective’s whispered order. All quiet. Come along!” he proc'aimed, soft- ly. The three men walked in the direction taken by the two rascals, Roundel and Piper, some time before, and at last stood within a block of the bank of Argent & Co., looking earnestly in the direction of that institution. “‘T would give something to know which is the best way to approach them,” muttered “Owney, thoughtfully. ‘Suppose you stroll quietly for- ward, Dennis, and try and get a look at the in- side through the glass doors.” _ ‘Sure, an’ it’s meself as "ll foind out all about it.” acquiesced Dennis, joyfully, “Stay; I’m afraid you're a little too eager.” The Irishman was very much disappointed, but there was no mistaking the air of quiet com- mand with which the detective signed to him to remain, and Dennis did not care to dispute it. “Captain!” It was another voice that broke in with this word. Graul and Corri sharply, very much astonished, But the detec- tive simply moved his head, and answered: “ Well?” A paiee officer stood in the doorway}of a house just bebind them, in such deep shadow that no one would be likely to see him unless he had been directed to the spot. ‘“T have been watching, as you told me last night, and I’m a little suspicious.” a ae = < - “a —— _ . ie taht ks POT IES OI INE turned around Toe i rey Ooo O80 ste raul, That's “Are you? Well, speak low. Dennis into the doorway with him, and Mr. please stand against the house with me. right.” In obedience to these directions, Owney’s two companions so disposed themselves as to be un- noticeable from a little distance. ‘* Now, Dobbs, tell me what you have seen that looks suspicious.” L ‘ Dobbs—for it was indeed that quiet and faith- ful officer—drew himself up stiffly in the door- way until he looked like a door-post himself, and spoke in his matter-of-fact way: ‘Gas lower than usual.” “Yes, Sure sign of mischief,” commented the detective. - ‘‘ Coat on the floor,” went on Dobbs. “Strange coat?” “No, sir.” ‘Whose coat?” “ Office coat, generally worn by Robert Smythe, the assistant-bockkeeper.” «Whereabouts on the floor? ‘Near the peg that it is always hung upon.” “Might have slipped off the peg,” suggested Owney. ** No, sir,” confidently. “No? Why?” “ At least four feet from the spot under the ” Peg. Ah!” . “ Couldn't have fallen down, Musthave been thrown to one side by somebody.” ‘* Guess you are right, Dobbs. Very well rea- soned.” : ‘That is not all,” continued Dobbs. ** Go on, then,” “ “No watchman there.” Well?” : “Think he may be in the job.” «‘ Why, you miserable whelp!” broke in Den- nis. ‘‘ Sure, I can lick yez “ky So here if ye say that me own mother’s son, Dinnis Carrigan, ver—” “That will do, Dennis,” interrupted Owney. “ Dobbs is mistaken this time. How long since you were at the bank?” turning again to obbs. ‘Ten minutes.” , “ Um ! P «Git Thar” Owney stood some time in deep reflection. He was morally certain that the robbery of the bank was in progress at that mo- ment, and that he could arrest the thieves. He knew Tiger Jim of old, and was well aware that a pistol-bullet would be his first grecting unless they could surprise and secure him before he had time to use his weapon. : The detective took Dobbs aside and whispered some directions in his ear, : “ Very well, sir,” said Dobbs, in his business- like way, as he turned short around and walked deliberately and softly toward the bank without noticing Graul or Dennis. »*° | The three saw him reach the little court by the side of the bank, reference to which has already been made,and disappear, Owney kept his two companions quiet for an- other five minutes, and then motioning to them to follow him, went toward the court himself. ‘Well, this is an awful place for a respectable man,” grumbled Graul, when he found himself being squeezed between the brick pillars under the bank. , “ Hush »’ whispered Owney, as, pushing aside the carpet that Dobbs bad dropped over the hole in the corner of the room when he crawled through a few minutes before, he showed his companions the way into the bank—the identi- cal way by which Roundel and Piper had effected an entrance, and which they imagined was known only to themselves, * CHAPTER XIV.—cONCLUSION, BLANCHE ARRIVES OPPORTUNELY."” Ezra Prrer, kneeling in front of the : reat iron door of the vault in Argent & Co.’s bank, had no more idea that any one besides his com- nion in crime, Norman Roundel, was watching im, than he had that “Git Thar” Owney was anywhere but in the cellar into which be was supposed to have been thrust an hour or so be- fore. Nib 5 ’ But the shadowy figure behind the door never relaxed its vigilance for an instant, while the eyes seemed to emit sparks as Piper plied his drill and chisels in his unholy work. Tiger Jim, with his eyes fixed on the glass doors, ready to give warning in case of oe. waited patiently for Piper to drill the holes that were to hold the explosive. - And the mysterious watcher behind the door seemed to have as much patience as anybody, as he noted every movement of Ezra Piper. “There she is!” proclaimed the little man at | | |
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| se last. * We'lltry her at that, anyhow. I should like to have made room for a heavier charge, but this will have to do.” ay up, then.” Tiger Jim’s only response was a growl, as he watched Piper introduce the granulated dyna- mite into the holes that be had drilled in the door of the vault. ‘* You want to let me know when you’re ready, Piper. Don’t touch it off without warn- ing me.” ** Do you think I am a fool?” asked Piper, un- graciously. ‘* Something on that order; yes.” A grunt was all the little man vouchsafed, as he filled the holes with powder, ** Are you ready?” he whispered. “ce Yes, ’ ‘‘ Well, then, P’lllay the fuse, touch it off, and we had better get into the cellar from the pri- vate room while it goes off,” Piper deftly prepared the fuse which he drew from one of the many hiding-places in his cloth- ing, and felt in his pockets for a match. As he did so he looked around him in the vacant way peculiar to men who are searching for matches in their vest pockets. _ Ezra looked around him carelessly, and then, just as his fingers closed on the match, his gaze became fixed, bis lower jaw dropped, bis fingers relaxed, and an expression of supernatural hor- ror suffused his countenance. e€ was evident- ly eee with fright. oundel was watching the street. at first notice his companion’s pecul ‘* Ready?” he asked, No answer. Roundel looked at Piper and saw his gaze of blank terror, ‘* What’s the matter?” Piper, in a shrinking way, as if he were trying to withdraw into himself, suffered his head to move slightly and at the same time pointed with trembling finger et the figure behind the door. Roundel, ever on the alert, swung around, knife in hand. Ere he could use the weapon, a mighty pair of arms were around him, and he found himself | rolling on the floor in the embrace of Dobbs. Dobbs was a powerful man, but his strength was no match for that of Tiger Jim. With a sudden twist the latter threw the of- ficer on his back,.and then a blow on the head rig some heavy missile rendered Dobbs sense- ess. ‘‘ Now, hurry! Light that fuse, and let’s get this job finished. No fear of this fool troubling us for a while,” observed Roundel, ‘coolly, as he stood up and straightened his ruffled plumes. “I can’t very well cut this fuse,” grumbled the little man. ‘‘It will burn ten minutes be- fore it reaches the powder.” He lighted the end of it as he spoke, and watched the fire crawling slowly along it to- ward the powder around the combination lock. ‘* Why didn’t you light it in the middle?” ask- ed Roundel, gruffly. “True. {never thought of that.” ““Of course not. Thinking is not in your ine.” Roundel had just uttered this last remark with his usual sneer, when, for the second time, strong arms were clasping his waist. He struggled desperately, but to no purpose this time, Two men were holding him, and be- ‘fore he thoroughly realized that he was attack- ed, his two hands were forced together, and a pair of bandcuffs encircled his wrists. Ezra Piper comprehended the meaning of the interruption at once, thus proving that he could think quickly sometimes, Norman Roun- del to the contrary notwithstanding. At one bound he had reached the front door, and in another would have been in the street and possibly safe from pursuit, But it was not to be. A man sprung after him, and just as he was going through the door seized him by the coat-collar and dragged him back in a Kim and did not jar actions, no gentle fashion. ‘im in, ye shpalpeen. Be gob. Dye think ez we're goin’ to let yez get away the now, afther all the thrubble we've had a-gittin’ yez?” said the voice of Dennis Carrigan. ‘“ Put up your paws,” Before Ezra knew what the other meant, he found bimself wearing handcuffs, and being hauled back into the bank. ‘Well, Tiger, here we are,” said Piper, as he was brought face to face with his er. ‘Curse your stupidity! We have you to thank for this business,” growled Roundel, as he shook bis white bead threateningly at the flabby- faced little tenor. “Se you had a cold and couldn’t sing, eh?” Flute, the Sing put in Peter Graul, as he thrust his visage into that of Piper. ‘‘I suppose you will be attended | to up at State Prison, or else I should have liked the satisfaction of fining you a week’s salary.” ‘‘Shut up, you old fool!” interposed Roundel. ‘“‘Oh, Mr. Norman Roundel, and you are in the burglary business, too, eh? ell, it’s a pity, for you have been a useful man in comic | opera, and might have made a name for your- self as a baritone if you had stuck to it.” Peter Graul evidently meant what he said, and there was a ring of genuine regret in his tones. ; ‘‘ Never mind, Graul. I'l] sing at the Euter- pia Theater again when I have served my sen- tence,” ‘ About fifteen years from now,” added Dennis. ‘¢ In the mean time, ** Git Thar” Owney. was trying to revive Dobbs, the policeman. “You may have murder to answer for, Ezra,” said the young detective, impressively. ‘* | don’t know whether you have killed him or not,” ‘T killed him? How do you know I had any- thing to do with it?” blustered Piper. ‘“ Because I saw you throw that crowbar. I was in the corner over there, coming up the me: from below. My coat got caught by a big nail, and prevented my coming through quick- ly, or I would have been here to belp Dobbs be- fore you knew he was there, and then he woul have been saved this ugly crack.” : The young detective, while speaking, satisfied himself that the unconscious man was not fatal- ly hurt, but he did not tell Piper so until a judicious application of brandy that he found in Roundel’s pocket brought Dobbs to _ bis senses, so that be was able to sit up and look around him, In. obedience to ‘Git Thar” Owney’s di- rections, Graul and Carrigan each covered his prisoner with a six-shooter, while the detective went to a police alarm that hung aguinst the wall in the private room, and rung for help. He was not disposed to take the risk of lead- ing his prisoners to the station-house with the small force at his command. There were too many chances of a rescue being attempted. ‘* Owney,” cried Dennis. “Well?” ‘*Coom here. I want ter speak to yez, but I can’t leave these murtherin’ villains alone.” Owney stepped to the side of the Irishman, who whispered a few words in his ear. “Yes,” answered Owney aloud. ‘‘I must go over there, at once, At least, as soon as I get these fellows under lock and key. But I know she and her father are safe at present.” ‘“* Are they?” muttered Roundel. Piper did not speak, but a leer that boded no good screwed up his little eyes and made his pasty cheeks look flabbier than ever. The detective saw it but could not tell what it meant. “What is that fellow grinning about?” thought the detective, anxiously. ‘‘ I don’t like to see a man of his make-up pleased. It always means mischief.” ) “Git Thar” Owney was right. It did mean mischief. Unless a warning was given, and given quick- ly, the life of the young detective wasnot worth more than a few minutes purchase. The fuse lighted by Ezra Piper had nearly reached the dynamite. ; The explosion would more than likely kill the detective. Strange to say, no one save the two burglars had noticed .the fire crawling along the cotton toward the spot where but one spark would pro- bably hurl the heavy door out, and send frag- ments of iron and steel flying in all directions, ; poy 8 but surely, the flame crept toward the ‘a Spo . P “Time those fellows were here from the station. Wish they would come. There is Mr, Argent and his little girl over in Jersey; I must hurry and bring them over. They are safe perbaps, thanks to my arrangements. But I know the old gentleman will be anxious about the affairs at the bank. Well, thank heaven! I restored his gir] to him, at all events,” Thus mused Owney, and the fire was very near the powder, alt i | zing up the station again if there is no one here within two minutes.” . He took out his watch, and, holding it in bis me prepared to watch the two minutes go Beware, Owney! You will never see the sec- ond hand go twice around its smali dial, if you stand where you are, ‘* Nearly one minute,” murmured Owney, er Detective. with his gaze fixed on the face of his watch, ‘* Ha! what’s that?” The glass doors in front, which had remained unfastened since Piper tried to escape that way were burst violently open, and a youn girl bounded into the bank, and pulled ‘Git Thar” Owney away from his position before the vault door. Ere he could express his surprise, the girl had pulled rene from the loor, and was stamp- ing on it with all her force. The fuse was extinguisbed, and ‘ Git Thar” Owney was saved. The girl saw that she had removed the dan- ger, and then, under the influence of a natural reaction, fell into the young detective’s arms in a dead faint. “Shoot those fellows through the head if they give you any trouble,” commanded Owney, whose experience had long since told bim that any unwonted bustle was favorable to the escape of prisoners. “Faith, an’ we will that,” returned Dennis Carrigan, cheerily. ‘‘I’d jist loike to break the head av this little roosther, fer loock!” Ezra Piper snarled, but the Irishman shook his fist threateningly, and the flabby-faced tenor subsided, ““My daughter! Where is my daughter?” broke in another voice, and Mr. Argent entered the bank hastily. ‘*T am here, dear father,” murmured Blanche Rogers, or, rather, Lucy Argent. ‘‘ We shall never be parted again, shall we?” The banker’s only answer was to clasp her to his bosom, “You know, father, when we managed to break the lock of the door of that house in Jer- sey, I felt sure that there was trouble bere, and that somehow I could be of use. But for that I should bave been content to wait until ‘ Git Thar’ Owney came back for us, as he prom- ised. ‘Yes, you disobeyed my orders, but as you have undoubtedly saved my life, I suppose I must forgive you.” ‘But I will not! Confound you for a med- dler,” hissed Tiger Jim, gnashing his teeth in impotent rage. “Here you are,” exclaimed Owney, as half a dozen policemen walked hastily up the stepsand entered the bank. The officers seized the two prisoners in a mat- ter-of-fact way, and in less than half an hour Tiger Jim and Piper were, securely locked up. ‘Now, Mr. Argent, is there anything more that I can do for you” asked the detective, as having locked up the bank, with Dennis Cor- rigan remaining behind in his regular position of watchman, be stood in Mr. Argent’s parlor at his residence, while Lucy hung lovingly on her father’s arm, as he sat in his own arm-chair before the cheerful open grate, “‘Owney, what more could you do for me? You have restored to me my child, and you have saved the bank from a wholesale robbery.” ‘* And caught two fellows for whom I have been looking for a year. I have done as much for myself as I have for you in that matter, Mr. Argent.” ‘Perhaps so! Perhaps so! But Lucy and I will always consider you the friend we ever had. Won't we, Lucy?” ‘Indeed we will, papa. It has been an awful twenty-four hours for us, but I don’t care as long as it has ended all right. Besides, it will be something to tell the girls when I go back to the Academy, as you say I must for another year, What a story I can make of our adven- tures, papa, with fictitious names.” Lucy laughed joyously as she spoke. “Ah, Lucy, Lucy! Full of your nonsense as ever. Well, you would not be my own girl, were you otherwise, I suppose.” ‘‘T suppose not,” was Lucy’s demure re~ sponse. Norman Roundel, alias “ Tiger Jim,” and bis. partner Ezra Piper, were both sent to Sing Sin; Prison for'long terms, and the police hoped th the gang to which they belonged was broken up. Whether it was or not we may see in future. *‘Flute” was the name of the tenor who — layed the part of Nanki-Poo at the Euterpia heater for many successive weeks, and the public indorsed the opinion of the stage-man- ager, Peter Graul, that his voice was one of the " best ever heard in comic opera in New York. No one around the theater except Graul ever knew his real name, or that, besides the popu- mt larity he had acquired as a singer and actor, he — had won fame in sterner fields of action as the lightning detective, mg Thar” Owney. THE END. / is Me (fiz Baie |
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BEADLE’S« H ALF-])IME*[ IBRARY. Jo Double Numbers. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novela. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance, | 28 Buffalo Ken; or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise, . 35 Wila Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. . 42 Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 49 Omaha OLL; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. 5 Wildfire Ne eanan's. By Ol] Coomes, 662 Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza; or, The Spectre Soldier o1 the Overland. By Col, P. Ingraham. 668 Violet Vane’a Victory; or, The Jaspar City Clean Out. y Wm. Patten. 664 Cheeky Charley, the ES) ecial; or, The Life Racket at Rattlesnake Ridge. By P. S. Warne, iah, the Plains Detective; or, Warbling Wil- ae fsmy hen fen. "By Lieut. A. K. Sims.’ Ready April 22% k, Jr., Back In the Mines; or. The 666 Peadwoed Dis Beatie Gea By Edward L. Wheeler. Ready April 29. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half- Dime Library 's for axle by all newsdealers, five ents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.