Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 600) (1889 01 22)
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‘JR a a hie That’ Bw) 7 As nae WA Wo — . Ws Sa Tes. = rire bast | (ut! ot! it! i Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y.. at Second Class Mai! Rates. Copyrighé 1899, by BEADL# AND ADAMS, January 22, 1889. a Year. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK 5 Cents. No. 600 $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, - Vol. XXIV ° a ; il Hi ty ne DERN Teg OZ INS) NAAN. HN Ge Sie ‘AlN y a = me 7\ | | hit i | LTT MT The “Piping” of Polly Pilorim. AUTHOR OF “DEADWOOD DICK” NOVELS, “DENVER DOLL,” NOVELS, ‘ROSEBUD ROB” NOVELS, ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. TROUBLE IN THE BRADDOCK CAMP. ‘* HELLO, Central!” ‘* Hello!? ‘lt “Give me Inspector Byrnes, Police Headquar- \ i \\\ ters,” Wi é: ‘All right.” *“*aAND I AM THAT SAME DEADWOOD DICK, BILLY,” REPLIED TH Ring! ring! ring! TECTIVES, WITH A SMILE. “* Hello!”
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j { } + ¥ < a 2 '* Hello!” “Ts that you, Police Headquarters?” “ Yes.” “fs that you, Mr. Byrnes?” “i Yes.” “ Allright. Please send me a competent spe- cial officer at once.” ‘“*Hello! Who are you? Yes? All right. Right away.” nd Inspector Thomas Byrnes hung up the telephone tube, and turned to a young man who was seated in his private office,at the Central Office in Mulberry street, one pleasant, but sul- try July day. ‘** Yes, Mr. Bristol, it is a decided surprise to see you back in the East again,” the official said. ‘‘Do you not find enough rascality go- ing on in the West to keep you busily em- ployed?” “Oh, I presume I could find pleaty to do if I were to take the pains to bunt for it,” Deadwood Dick replied, ‘‘ But, the truth is, 1 have been so busily engaged for over a year, without rest, that [I concluded to treat inyself to an excursion to the Atlantic Coast insummer-time. Isuppose you are busy, as usual.” ** Always busy,” the inspector replied, ‘ and rather more so at this time of the year, than others.” *¢ How is that?” ‘* Well, you see, we now have to keep an eye on the welfare of the city, and the great sea- shore resorts as well. Such a large majority of our wealthy families have left the city, for the heated term, that an extra force of private watchmen and detectives are called into requisi- tion to guard the properties; then, another ele- ment of our crooks baunt the numerous pleasure resorts surrounding New York, and they’ll bear watching too. You'd perhaps be surprised, but just at this moment, there don’t happen to be one of my private officers at my command, al- though some of them are liable to report at any instant.” ; “That's odd. And I believe you just had a call for an officer.” “ Yes, from Trumbull Braddock, the clothing manufacturer. Some trouble at his place of business. I suppose. I might have sent a regu- lar up to bim, but he "phoned so particular about a competent special, that I guess I’d bet- ter wait a bit,” a dare say I would be over-presumptuous “Not at all, sir, not at all! Providing you have nothing in particular on your hands, you’re the very person I could wish to send, for Brad- dock is an intimate friend of miue, and it has been clearly demonstrated to me in the past, that you are a very good man in your profes- sion, ‘Well, Iam sure I shall be pleased to be of service to you,” Dick said, modestly. ‘‘ I pre- sume I shal uct get down to the sea-shore for a day or two yet, and so I shal] need something to do to keep me out of mischief.” ‘Good. It will bea great accommodation to me. I'll just give you a note to Mr. Braddock, and then you can be off. Mr. Braddock’s office is Number — Broadway, and his manufactory is in another street.” Accordingly, Deadwood Dick was soon placed in Fes p side pc a sealed note, and started forth. nce more he was back in the great metropo- lis, and that too only for a few hours ere he was commissioned on an errand of importance. What new series of adventures was he again about entering upon? It scarcely mattered. His life was made up of such a singular and perpetual train of excit- ing incidents and adventures, that he no longer experienced a sensation thrill in taking up a new skein to unravel. Crossing from Mulberry street over into Broadway, he boarded an up-town car. Ina few minutes he reached his destination, and en- tered the large and commodious main office of the manufacturer he had been sent to serve. In answer to his inquiry for Mr, Braddock, he was conducted to a cosily-furnished private office, and ‘there left alone, with the informa- tion that Mr. Braddock would join him pres- ently. It was fully ten minutes, however, before any one came, and then it was a young woman, who, after an inquiring glauce at Dick, seated herself ata table on which was a typewriter and began to finger the keys with wonderful dexterity, proving that she was an expert at manipulating the machine, She was probably eighteen years of age, with a trim, sylpb-like figure, a round, pretty face, with cherry lips and rosy cheeks, brilliant black eyes, and hair to match. Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. She was clothed in a plain black, neat-fitting habit, and was decidedly an attractive-looking rson. She paid no further heed to Deadwood Dick, after the first glance, but gave strict attention to her work, and to Dick’s scrutinizing eyes she made a charming picture, Trumbull Braddock came in, after a delay of about a half-hour, He proved to be a man of large physique, and evidently considerably past his fiftieth year, His face was broad, massive, and florid, and usually wore an expression of urbauity. There were strong lines about the mouth and forehead, however, which indicated a severity of character, when severity was called for. The eves were gray and the hair almost white. Beard, be wore none. ‘*Who are you, and what can I do for you” he demanded, rather gruffly, as bis gaze fell upon bis caller. ‘‘My name is Bristol, I was sent as bearer of a message from an acquaintance of yours,” Dick replied, calmly. “Ab! Yes, 1 see. Lillian”—-turning to the girl-typewriter, ‘‘ you can finish that work later on. I have some private business with this gen- tleman.” Lilhan arose and left the office, ‘Byrnes sent you, eu?” the old man then re- marked, seating bimself, and bridging a pair of glasses upon his nose. ‘“* He did,” and Dick produced the inspector’s note, handing it to the merchant, Braddock read it over twice, and then looked p. “* According to this, you’ve had much expe- rience, for so young a man,” ‘* Yes, more than usually falls to the lot of one of my age.” ‘‘ T oness you'll do. .There are some of Byrnes’s men I wouldn’t like nosing about my business. Besides, you’re not much known here, Ever been married?” east ‘¢Good enough! You've had your eye-teeth cut, and won't be fool enough to fall in love with every feminine you see, What’s your price for what I want you to do?” ‘“That depends wholly upon what’s to be done, sir, Where Iam dealing with reliable parties, I generally leave such matters to their gene- rosity.” “You're a fool, if you do, There’s mighty few over-generous people in this world,” “Perhaps not. 1 don’t think, however, that I’ve ever had much reason tocomplain. But tell me what’s to be done and I can better make you an estimate.” **That wen’t do. I might post you, and after- ward, Byrnes might put another man in your place, and he would bave to be told again. I won’t have more than one in this matter,” “That is an unnecessary assumption,” Dick returned, ‘If you prefer me, take me. If you would rather have one of the inspector’s men, get one of them. It is quite immaterial and I presume it would be the same to the inspector.” Mr. Braddock hardly seemed! to fancy this answer, for his brows lowered somewhat. “You seem rather irdependent for one who has to depend upon his profession for a living!” he declared. ‘¢ For one who does not depend upon any pro- fession for a living. I believe it is my pleasure to be independent, if I chose, sir. I think, on the whole, that you had better get some one else to look after your case, such as it may be.” ‘I don’t think anything of the sort,” the mer- chant promptly replied. ‘‘ You’re the man I want, and when we settle up you can name your price, Now, then, what I tell you is to be strictly a secret between you and myself, until we get at precisely what we are working for. Understand?” ‘“‘ Certainly. So, please proceed.” ‘*T wil] doso, My name is Trumbull Brad- dock, aged fifty-five years. Iwas born, brought up, and have always lived, in this city. Im engaged in the wholesale manufacture of clotb- ing, and, aside from a prosperous business in this city, own one cotton mill in Philadelphia, and a woolen mill in Massachusetts. I employ, all told, over seven hundred people, and as I transact my business on a cash basis, I have no outstanding line of credit, and own what I have ot. ‘* About six months ago I issued a check toa firm with whom I was dealing, for five thousand dollars, and when it was returned to me, refused by the firm to whom I had issued it, I found that tt had been raised to twenty-five thousand. Now, please make note of what I tell you, so you may not miss a point.” FY “Tam jotting down whatI want,” Dick re- sponded, memorandum and pencil in hand. ay Go on,” “Well, Kinzie & Kabn, to whom this check had been issued, sent it back, wanting to know what it meant, as I owed them no such amount. I bad perscnally made out and mailed the check, and knew I bad made no mistake. A private investigation was made between the two firms, and nothing could be determined. It was a mystery, and no one knew whom to suspect or accuse of altering the check. So the matter was hushed up. ‘““That ended that affair, until about a month later, when my bank returned, with others, a forged check which they had cashed—for two thousand dollars. It was to all appearances made out and signed by me, and made payable to ‘Bearer.’. I frequently paid a small account of an employee, thus, owing to their having no bank acquaintance, but never any such an amount. The matter was quietly investigated, but no trace of the man whe got the check eashed could be found, either among my em- ployees, or elsewhere, except that he was tall, thin, very paie, and bad a nose that had at some time in bis life been broken and reset. Got that down?” ‘Yes, Who assisted you with those investi- gations—Byrne3’s men?” ‘““Yes, But they were able to find out no nore than I myself knew or ascertained,” ‘* Well, what else?” ‘Shortly after the last mentioned incident I received a letter, dated at West Brighton, Coney ee and post-marked Gravesend, Here it 8 As hespoke, Mr. Braddock took an unenveloped letter from his pocket, and banded it to the de- tective, who perused it. It was written in a very pretty feminine style of chirography, and ran as follows: ‘Coney IsLAND; May 7, ‘*( West Brighton.) “Mr. TRUMBULL BRADDOCK: — “Your ‘investigations are of no use. The only | thing you can do, to save you from shame. disgrace and ruin, will be to settle with me. If you wish to do so, put a‘ Personal’ in the Herald, to that effect, and you will be acquainted with furtber particulors. But, save your money by not employing detectives, for they will do you no good. “Potty PILeRm.” As he finished the perusal of this letter, Dick locked up at the merchant. y ** Who is Polly Pilgrim?” he asked. “The devil may know—I don’t!” the old ~ gentleman irreverently declared. ‘‘I don’t know her, nor did I ever hear of such a person, until I received that letter.” ‘“‘ From the tone of the missive I should judge there was a movement on foot to work you out of what money is possible?” “That seems to be the motive—indeed, I am sure it is, since I have not told you all, Day be- fore yesterday. my daughter, who was stopping at the Brighton Hotel, Coney Island, came home in great baste, with the announcement the previous evening, while walkin . beach,her portemonnaie, which shy carried in her hand, had been snatched away from her bya vailed woman, who fled so quickly as to escape, befo'e my daughter could call for aid. In her flight, however, the thief had dropped a lace bandkerchief, upon which were el er the in- itials ‘P. P.’ This fact satisfies me that it was this Polly Pilgrim, who committed the theft.” ‘‘ Did your daughter sustain any considerable 37” ‘Yes, She was to spend three weeks at the Brighton, and bad a matter of four bundred dollars in ber book, besides a valuable diamond ring. and two large unset diamonds,” “Rather an imprudent way of carrying such valuables, eh?” “Most unfortunately so. However, the milk is spilled, and there’s little good of crying over it. I bad resolved to mention nothing of Nola’s loss, for she is very sensitive, and detests publicity. ** But, something of more recent occurrence has utterly changed my mind. Rather later than usual last evening, I went home to my resi- dence on Park avenue, and spent some time at my desk in my private library, to which no one has access but myself. I made up a considera- ble sum of money in a package, for to-day I in- tended starting for Massachusetts to make ar- rangements for enlarging my mill property. ‘©On retiring to my chamber, which opens off my office, I left the money, my private check- book, order-book, and a few architectural draughts and specifications, lying on my desk, The checks and order-forms are specially en- graved, with my portrait upon them, and neve ; | . |
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me ‘ Deadwood Dick Jr at Coney Island. 3 << —— ne pass out of my hands—that is, before being ti.ted in, signed by me, and certified by a private impression of my own. “You see,” the merchant went on—passing to Dick one of the ordinary check-books—" it would not be an easy task to counterfeit either my check or orders, and more especially as no one but myself has access to either check or order-book. Nevertheless the thing has been done.” “ee How?” ‘¢T can only explain so far as I know. As I sold you, I left the things in my home office, when I retired for the night. The door leading from the office into the hall was firmly bolted and locked, and so I had no fear of invasion. ‘“‘Imagine my surprise, then, when 1 awoke late this morning to find the money ~ and also one leaf cut out of 4 order-book. I re- membered the number of the last order I had given—4648—and so saw that one blank had been extracted. ‘* Well, it had been my intention to leave the city at an early hour, but, to my surprise, when I arose and made the discovery of the theft, it was after eleven o’clock. I dressed myself, hastened here, and after a few inquiries, tele- phoned to Byrnes,” “‘T see. Did you find things right, here?” ‘“ By no means. At ten o’clock this morning, a Jad in district messenger uniform came here and presented a letter to Mr, Barron, my cashier and bookkeeper. On opening the letter, Barron found an order purporting to be signed by me—an order for one thousand dollars, duly certified. There was also an accompanying note on one of my letter-heads— But wait, here it is.” He handed Dick another half-sheet of paper containing the following, the chirography cor- responding with Mr. Braddock’s signature on the sample blank order: “. H. BARRON:— “Shall need a little more cash to take with me than I expected. If you’ve amount of order in safe, send by messenger, at once. “TRUMBULL BRADDOCK.” ‘“The order was apparently so authentic,” went on Braddock, ‘‘ that Barron did not doubt it, and making up a package of ten one-hundred dollar bills, dispatched the messenger, as he sup- osed, tomy Park avenue residence, and bade im be hasty.” ‘The messenger did not come?” ‘* Of course not,” “Did your cashier take his number?” “Yes, It was 16, of the Manhattan District Office, on —— street, near my residence, I have held telephonic communication with that office, and the manager informs me there is no Num- ber 16 on his force, the bighest number being seven.” ““Tndeed! Well—” ; ‘* Well, there is one thing more to tell you, and then you can make your own deductions. This morning when I discovered the Joss of the ~aneneye-s.e!so found upon the floor a card, bear- ing the name ‘ Polly Pilgrim,’ so that whoever this Polly Pilgrim mzy be, it appears evident that she committed the forgery and the robbery. Now, I have told you all I know about the mat- ter, and would like your opinion.” ‘Well, sir,” Dick replied, ‘‘ there seems to be but one conclusion—that you are being surely and systematically robbed, by one or more persons, and, from Polly Pilgrim’s note, I should infer that malice, and revenge, too, might not be a secondary consideration. Now, in order to get an approximate idea of whom this Polly Pilgrim or her confederates may be, it will be necessary for you to answer me, freely, a series of questions which I may see fit to put. By your doing this, I am confident I can plant my sus- picion where it will grow into a foundation to workupon, Some of my questions, it is true, may seem impertinent, but, in asking them I have a motive connected only with the case in hand, and what you tell me will go no further. Without this confidence on your part, I would not care to engage upon a case which, at the out- set, promises to be a tough one to work up.” Dick had spoken plainly, but to the point, the manufacturer in the mean time watching bim, keenly. There was a moment of silence, then Brad- dock said: a shaJl reas you per pei as chow er metal a ring that [ like, and, although 1 ma; called upon to explain thinge that I would rather not refer to, your questions shali be answered, and although the loss of a few thousand will not sensibly affect me, I would rather spend a thousand on charity than lose a cent through the dishonesty of others.” SS ee a ee ee eee ee ee eee 3 } ‘* Tf all gentlemen of affluence entertained your noble sentiments, I fancy there would be less sin and suffering!” Dick remarked. CHAPTER II. A BIT OF FAMILY HISTORY. ‘* Now, the first, and one of the most impor- tant questions is,” Dick began, ‘‘ whom do you suspect?” ‘*No one. I do not know whom to suspect,” ‘Tt is evident that the author of the mischief | is well acqusinted with you and your business methods? ‘* It would seem so, and, moreover, isan adroit penman, as the forged note to Barron, which I have shown you, is in excellent imitation of my chirography.” ‘* Who of your employees are most intimate | with your business affairs?” ‘* T have only three office employees who know anything of my private affairs. They are Frank Barron, my cashier, assistant-manuger and head- bookkeeper, who has been in my employ for ten years; alt Westlake, assistant-bookkeeper, messenger, and so forth, and Lillian Braddock, my private secretary, stenographer, and type- writer.” ‘*These people are above yeur suspicion, I presume, Mr. Braddock?” ** Most assuredly, Barron is an old and time- tried servitor, and I’d stake -my life on him, every time. Westlake isa young man of good habits, and bas already proved his honesty and integrity in more ways than one; while, as for Lillian, my daughter, I of course could not think of suspectirg ber.” “You area man of family, I suppose?” ‘* Well, ves,” and here Mr. Braddock smiled, rather grimly. ‘‘ { have a wife, son and daugb- ter—yes, two daughters. Perhaps [ had better let you into my private life, in the start, and then there will be no confusion hereafter.” ** As you like about that,” Dick replied. ‘‘ The more I learn the more likely I am to makea success of the job I have before me.” ‘“*Very well. Here is my story, which is known to but very few: ‘‘ Twenty-three years ago, I was married to a grass-widow named Martha Norton Flack. Her husband had deserted her, and she claimed to have heard that he was dead. Indeed, she show- ed me a paper containing a notice of his death, in Havana, She wasa pretty, amiable woman of about my own age, and the first year of our married life was very happy. At the expira- tion of the first year, and shortly before she was about to become a mother, she left me, and wrote me that she had just learned that Jack Flack, her first husband, was alive and on his way back to New York. She begged me to make application for a divorce, and she would assist iu my securing it, asshe no longer would be an incumbrance to me. ‘* Well, I did make an application, and the divorcee, with her permission, was quietly grant- me. From that day to this { have never seen my first wife, although I have heard from her several times—once, when she notified me of the birth of our child, and again, two years ago, when she sent Lillian to me, a well-edu- cated girl, and requested me to find her a situa- tion, as she, the mother, was no longer able to supporé her. ‘On questioning the girl, I found that she re- garded me as being her uncle, but would say positively nothing of her past, nor that of her mother. I did not dispel her belief that I was her uncle, but took her into my office at a good salary; and, I may add, I have had no cause to regret that I did so, for she has proved both efficient and trustworthy, and I havé been able to make much more of ber than another employ- er would have been free to do. “Well, after I had procured my divorce, I was very lonely, and felt that there was a void in my life, and as soon asa favorable.opportunity came along, I married again—this time to a lady of French descent, named Theodora Arnee, She was poor, but came of a good family, and, al- though I cannot say I r--rvied for love, she made me a good wife, and bore me two children, my daughter Nola, just graduated from Vassar, and my son, Vanderbilt, who, when he becomes of age, [ shall take into partnersbip. That will be two years hence, however, and, in the mean- time, he has nothing to do but sow the proverbi- al crop of wild vats, My son and daughter and myself are the only members of my household, at present, servants excepted, my wife being in Europe for nearly a year, now. hat, sir, comprises all I have to say of my family affairs, except that I have two requests to make. One is, that, should you have occasion to speak with Lillian, you will not disabuse her ae NE ———E—EEE ee eee ee ee ee ee of the belief that Iam her uncle. I shall see that she wants for nothing, but would not have her know the unhappy circurastances connecting her mother and myself. The second request is that you make no hist to my son of my inten- tion ever to take him into partuersbip. While telling him to go ahead and sow his wild oats as he would, I have aiso warned him that, until be settled down to steady habits, he need never ex- pect to inherit a peony of mine. I give him an allowance of one hundred dollars a month, for peer money, and if that isn’t enough for him, e can go without!” ‘I shoujd say that amount ought to do him,’ Dick assented. ‘‘ Does he ever ask for more?” ‘* No, for he is well aware that it would do him | no good to do so.” ‘* Does either Mr. Barron or Mr. Westlake live beyond their meaas?” ‘Not that Iam aware of. Mr. Barron has money inthe bank, and Westlake never over- draws his salary. In fact, I am sure that neither of my three office employees are concerned in this plot against me.” ** Do none of them ever visit your house?” “ No,” ** And you say none of them—not even your wife, son, or daughter, bave access to your pri- vate office, at home?” ‘* Exactly. The two doors opening to my office, one from the ball, and one from tbe bed- chamber, are provided with iutricate locks of special manufacture, and can only be opened with a certain key, the secret of which I alone ossess,” ‘Pil agree with you on one thing,” Dick said. ** And what is that?” ‘‘T was never in your house, was I?” “Not to my knowledge,” and the merchant looked curious. '¢ The key to these locks, is simpie—that is, not of remarkable design,” ce Weil—I do not see fit to answer that ques- tion. . “Oh! it don’t matter, The key is a very or- dinary one in appearance—such a one as any man might have in his pocket. Yet an every- day key shaped exactly like yours will not un- lock your door, You ask me why—so would anybody. Theansweristhis: The prong of the key does not turn the tumbler in the lock—it attracts it! In other words, the key you use, is magnetized |” : Trumbull Braddock sprung to his feet, ex- citedly. ‘* By all that’s wonderful! How did you know this?” he ejaculated. ‘ By my soul, ’m tempt- ed to believe—” ‘‘ That will do, Mr. Braddock. I know noth- ing of your key, and never heard of you, until to-day: so your suspicion would be unjust. All Ican say is, that that which you have believed to be a secret, I knew yearsago! When a mere boy, I used to, as pastime, experiment with mag- netism and w ai would do, and I worked out the problem, that a spring tolt in a simply con- structed and apparently worthless lock, could be drawn back by a magnetic key. Had I been born an inventor instead of a nomad, I could have profited by my youthful discovery. Braddock reseated bimself, a look of profound astonishment upon his face. “ “Well, you certainly beat the deck!” he averred, ‘* You have struck the idea exactly, and as the invention is known to but the two of us, I will assist you to make a fortune out of it, if you like. The man who applied it to my locks, is long since dead, and the secret died with bim.” ‘* We will discuss that matter, later,” Dick an. swered, witha smile. ‘‘ At present, other matters claim our attention. Is it not possible thet your son, your wife, your daughter, or even your servants may have acquired the secret of access to your office?” ** All things are possible, it is said, but Iam confident that none of my family are impli- cated.” “Do any of your office employees know of your iosses?”’ ‘* None except Barron, and be does not know ** Well, so far as I can see, the case is at pres- ent enveloped in mystery, and there seems to be no clew to begin work on. However, to a de- tective, that is of little importance, I may iek up a thread when least expected. Now, to gin with, have you any enemies—any one who would do you an injury, for the sake of re~ venge? ‘*T do not know that Ihave an enemy in the world!” ; “Migbt not your first wife, through force of circamstances, enter into a plot against you?”
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“*T would not dishonor her, sir, with a single suspicious thought. The truth be told, I would sooner distrust my second wife, even though she is in my estimation above reproach!” ‘** How long did you say your second wife had been in Europe?” ‘* Let me see; a trifle over nine months. pect her home, soon,” 3 are was she, when you last heard from er Tho merchant hesitated and flushed a little. ‘Well, the truth is, I have not heard from her since her departure from New York, Al- though naturally intelligent otherwise, my sec- ond wife cannot write!” Asa recipient of this intelligence, the detec- tive made noremark, but he certainly was great- ly astonished, ‘Fo conceal this as much as possibie, he busied himself a few minutes with his memorandum, and then said, ‘*Now, if you give me a few addresses, it may be a help tome, Where do you reside?” ** At No, — Park avenue, this city.” ‘* Where does Mr, Barron live?” ‘“*He bas a suite of rooms at No. — North Wasbington Square, and takes his meals at the St. Denis.” ‘* Walter Webster?” ‘Lives with his married sister, Mrs. Barnes, at No. Eleventh street.” ‘** And your daughter, Lillian?” “‘She boards at Number — West Fifteenth street,” ‘‘Has your son, Vanderbilt, any particular place of resort, where he spends a portion of his time?” ‘* Well, I can’t say as to that, for, the truth be told, now that he has graduated, I pay but little attention to his movements.” ‘“Do you know where your first wife lives?” ‘1 donot, I have not dared ask Lillian, for fear of exciting ber suspicion that | am more than I appear.” ‘* Well, that, I guess, fills the bill of ques- tions for the present, I will deliberate over the matter, and report as soon as I have anything to report.” ; “Very well. Would you like an introduction to Barron and the others?” ‘*Not asa detective.” ‘On, of course, I will introduce ,you as a prospective partner, and that will disarm any chance suspicion as to your object in coming here.” Accordingly, this was done, Dick was f.rst introduced to Frank Barron, the cashier, a pleasant-spoken, genial-faced man of five-and-thirty years, whose most notable pe- culiarity was a very bald head. Walt Webster, the assistant bookkeeper, was about Dick’s own age, a good-looking, neatly- dressed young man, with a slight sandy mus- tache, and light, curling hair, Of Lillian rad-‘ock, we have already made mention, Each one of the trio to whom Dick was intro- duced, expressed pleasure at meeting him, and it was evident, too, that they were likewise some- what surprised at the announcement that he was a prospective partner, he introductions over, Bristol bade Mr. Brad- dock good-day, and took his departure, As he left the store, a young man entered, whom the detective at once concluded was Van- derbilt Braddock, the manufacturer’s son, from the fact that he looked a great deal like the old man, He was tall and gracefully formed, with a round, beardless face, blue eyes, and closely-cut light bair, He was attired in a light suit, wore patent leatber low shoes, and a white hat, and upon his immaculate shirt-front blazed a diamond pin of unusual size and brilliancy. He gave Dick an inquiring stare, and then passed on into the store. “If that is Vanderbilt Bradduck, he is quite a swell!” Dick muttered. I ex- CHAPTER III. A TRIP TO CONEY ISLAND, Drapwoop Dick had only arrived in New York in the morning of that very day, and, as yet, had made no preparations fora 1 lace to stop, his baggage being still at the Grand Cen- tral Depot, he having come from Albany via the Hudson River Railroad. Now that he had undertaken the Braddock case and coubtless would divide his time between New York and Coney Island, it behoved him to cast around for a lodging-place, Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. With its many hotels, good, bad, and irdif- ferent, and its many flats, apartments, and fur- nished-room houses, the metropolis surely pre- sents a great variety of accommodations, Dick had no particular desire to go to a hotel, and so, after casting around for awhile, finally engaged a room, with breakfast and supper when wanted, at No. —, West 15th street, in the neigeborhood of Eighth avenue, and thither he had his baggage removed. It was not until after be was duly installed there, that, on looking over the memoranda he had taken down at Trumbull Braddock’s, he saw that he was stopping at the same house where Lillian Braddock boarded, “Well, here’s a go,” he mused, “I don’t know that I am sorry or pleased at this dis- covery. Perhaps I ought to be pleased, as it will give me an opportunity to observe more of Miss Lillian Braddock than would otherwise be the case. And, the deuce only knows where I am to pick up a clew to begin work on, if not through her.” He spent the remainder of the day in his room, endeavoring to form an opinion to begin work on. And it was a bard thing to do, That Mr. Braddock was being robbed, surely and systematically, by some person or persons of more than ordinary cunning, was a certainty, and from the cleverness and success with which these crimes had been perpetrated, the detective was of the opinion more than one person was connected with the scheme. Dut who? and who was Polly Pilgrim? She was evidently a clever penman, and pos- sessed a thorough knowledge of the merchant’s methods, And yet Braddock was loth to suspect any of his employees or members of his family. ‘*One thing is flat!” Dick at last concluded, ‘*and that is, that the guilt lies between one of four persons—namely, the first Mrs. Braddock, Barron, the bookkeeper, Lillian Braddock, and —and—Mrs. Braddock, number two. The fact that the latter bas been in Europe for nine months, without her husband knowing from time to time of her exact whereabouts, strikes me as rather odd, and I shouldn’t be thunder- struck to find out that Mrs. Braddock, seeond, is not in Europe at all! It remains for me to assure myself on that point. Then, Lillian Braddock, her motber, Frank Barron, and Van- derbilt Braddock, must all come under my i ere I can hope to solve the rid- le. At the supper bell’s call Dick went down-stairs to the repast, to discover that his landlady had but few boarders beside hiniself, There wasa Mr, Guthrie and wife, middle- aged people, a Miss Sadie Sands, whom Dick learned was employed at Macy’s; a Mr, Fitz- hugh, a music teacher, and last but not least, Lillian Braddock. Mrs, Russel, the landlady, was a pleasant, motherly woman, who exerted herself to please her guests, and, as the whole party seemed of a sociable turn, Dick began to feel quite at home. He received an introduction to the other guests, and during the meal he and Mr, Guthrie fell to discussing the political situation of the ay. Miss Sadie Sands was of about Lillian’s age, and quite pretty, but more affected in manner, and flashy of dress, She seemed to take an immediate fancy to the new-comer, and plainly meant to be as agreeable to him as possible, which, evidently, was not to the liking of the long, lank, cadaver- ous music-teacher, who, Dick judged, was Miss Sands’s * ae Lillian Braddock bad little to say to any ene, although Dick once caught her regarding him Pry She quickly dropped her gaze when it rif is, however, avd he did not catch it again. ‘* Pve been thinking of paying a visit to Coney Island,” Dick observed, addressing Mr. Guthrie. ‘* Which is the most desirable route?” ‘‘Oh! there are a number of routes, all rail, rt rail and part water, and all water. I pre- er the all water route, via the Iron Steamboat line, in pleasant weather.” “Yes, that is verv pleasant,” chimed in Mrs, Russel. ‘‘ Miss Braddock always takes that route when she goes down, and that is near! pars evening. Are you going down to-night, uy “Thave not made up my mind yet,” Lillian replied, quietly. ‘1 bardly think I sball,” ‘I’m going,” Sadie said, naively. ‘I do so like the beach these moonlight evenings,” Dick decided that this was a hint for him to ask permission to accompany ber, but on so short acquaintance he had no notion of doing anything of the sort, Before supper was over the door-bell rung, and Mrs. Russel brought in a telegraphic mics- sage to Lillian, who, after opening and resding it, excused herself, and arose and left the room, Dick soon after did likewise, and as there was notbing in particular for him to do in New York that evening, he concluded to refresh him~- self at the sea-shore. After making bis preparations, ho left the house, walked over to Sixth avenue, where be took an Elevated train for the Battery. Arrived there, be bad just time to catcha boat for Coney Island, and was soon steaming away across the Bay toward the Narrows, It was a beautiful night, the heavens cloud- less, and the moon, which rose earty, full and round like a ball of molten gold. The harbor was alive with ferry-boats and other craft darting here and there; there was just enough breeze to give a pretty ripple to the water, and glittering lines mm the moonlight, Behind was New York with its brilliantly- lighted water front, to the right Jersey City, to the left Brooklyn and Bay Ridge, and ahead Staten Island, all giving forth their belts of twinkling light, Verily it seemed that the noble a! was surrounded by a cordon of fire. he boat was crowded by a heterogeneous mass of humanity—both sexes, all ages, all na- tionalities, nearly—rich and poor, all bound for pleasure, all more or less jolly or excited, Out on deck an Italian orchestra enlivened the occasion with lively strains of Strauss and Schubert, but everywhere a confused Babel of voices from over a thousand throats, Every camp-stool and every otber seat was taken, when Dick Bristol stepped on board; so he had to content himself with standing. There was plenty of room to watch about, however, and he strolled here and there, drink- ing in the lively scene with avidity and pleasure. Of course, he bad no expectation of seeing any one he knew; cons: quently, be was greatly sur- rised, when he suddenly came face to face with iss Sadie Sands. ““ Why, Mr. Bristol, is it really you?” she ex- claimed, ‘Iam sure I had no expectation of meeting you.” i ‘ “T cain ‘say the same.of you,” Dick replied. ‘‘ Did you come alone?” 4 “Yes, indeed, although 1 expected Mr. Fitz- hugh to accompany me. But, he is such a queer fellow! Just because I teased him a little he re- fused to come.” ; “That was quite ungallant, I should say,” Dick replied, while, to himself, he added: ‘She has found me out, now, and I suppose I am in for it, for the evening.” : And he was right, Miss Sands kept him en- gaged in conversation, and showed no disposi- tion to let him escape. Although she was lively and pleasant com- pany, Dick did not like the idea of being forced into her society. They sauntered about, and finally-Diekettier rr ed an exclamation, F ‘‘ What is it?” his companion asked, ‘*Why, there is Miss Braddock!” he said, pointing toward the front of the boat, where the young lady in question stood partly leaning against the ri t She was beautifully attired, and looked to far better advantage than when Dick had seen her last, : She was talking to a btoat-hand—an old, grimy-faced, repulsive-looking chap, bloated, gray-haired, red-eyed and wrinkled. There was a livid scar clear across his forehead, that added notbing good to his appearance. he Did Miss Meaadon come with you?” Dick inquired, turning to Sadie. : “Ob, no! We seldom go out together.” “Do you know who that is she is talking with?” “‘ Thaven’t the slightest idea. I saw her talk- ing to that horrible fellow, once before. She is a strange girl—an enigma that I have never been able to solve,” Sadie added, wtth a mys- terious shake of the bead. ‘ Dick was considerably more interested than he would have likec to acknowledge, ‘Had he unexpectedly run upon a clew, or even the shadow of a clew? . 5 Here was Lillian, attired like a rich man’s daughter, with diamond earrings in her ears— here was Lillian, in conversation with a rough —ay, ruffianly-looking deck-band, old enough to he her father ! Who was he, and what was she saying to im? The first Mrs, Braddock’s first husband’s name was—here Dick referred to his memoranda—ahl | ) |
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‘ A his name was Jack Flack. Might not this old deck-hand be Jack Flack? There was a possibility, yes, a probability, that such was the case, else why would she per- mit his acquaintance? Dick was busy turning these new thoughts over in his mind, when Miss Sands excused her- self for a moment, and entered the cabin. Almost simultaneously the sailor left Lillian’s side, and became lost in the crowd. Guided by some impulse, Dick sauntered along so as to pass ber, and as he drew near he paused, with a pleasant smile, and tipped his bat. He was going to speak to her, but didn’t. To his utter an.azement she stared at him haughtily for a second, and then abruptly turned ber back to him. Had a meteor drop ploded at his feet, more astonished. She had given him the cut direct, and hear- ing a titter from some of the bystanders, Dick colored to the ears, and hurried away. By the time Sadie Sands rejoined him, he had in a measure recovered from his confusion, al- though he never felt so cheap and mean before in his life, Why Lillian Braddock had given him the ** cold shoulder,” he could not conceive. He fancied there was a mischievous twinkle in Sadie’s eyes when she rejoined him; perbaps she had witnessed his rebuff. He dared not question her, lest he should be- tray his chagrin; but he took good care to keep -out of Miss Braddock’s sight during the rest of the journey to the Island. At last the good steamer Cepheus made fast at the new Iron Pier, and discharged its cargo of human freight, and then Deadwood Dick found himself upon magic Coney Island, for the first time in bis life—at West Brighton, the Bowery of New York over again, only considerably more so, A queer sensation it was to Dick as he saw the crowds of well-dressed seaside sojourners saun- tering to and fro, laughing and chatting to- gether, and evidently free from a thought of eare or trouble; saw the myriads of dazzling electric lights, that made the scene as light as day; heard the tremendous blare of the monster steam orchestrions at the merry-go-rounds; the yells of hackmen, the screeches of itinerant venders and game manipulators, and above all, heard the roar of old ocean, as wave and breaker came tumbling in upon the beach. Ta one thing Miss Sadie Sands excelled—she was a first-rate Coney Island guide. She knew every place from Tim Olney’s grog-shop on the Concourse, and Red Leary’s old ‘‘ fence,” to Manhattan Beach, and now that she had Dead- wood Dick practically under her wing for the night, she meant to make bim * earn bis shoe- leather,” to speak in the parlance of the place. If Dick had felt inclined to be lonesome, he would have found it a difficult thing in that lively throng. The “free” theaters, where a handful of dizzy variety performers catered to . usement of beer-guzzlers; the shootiug- galleries, puppet-shows, cane-games, lung-test- ers, striking-machines, restaurants, mérry-go- rounds, sacred cow, and so forth, and so forth —all came in for a certain amount of inspec- tion. They visited the elevator, the big elephant, the Sea Beach Palace, with its miniature Niag- ara falls; they dined at Paul Bauer’s to the musie of Levy and the Thirty-second Regiment Band: then, they hired a carnage, and drove to Brighton Beach, witnessed the taking of New Orleans, and beard part of a concert by Anton Seidl’s Metropolitan Orchestra; so that, by tie time they caught the last boat back for New York, Dick could safely say that he was pretty well tired out. ; Sadie Sands, however, did not seem particu- larly fatigued, but chattered like a magpie, all the way back to the city—and, indeed, until they reached the boarding-house, on West Fif- teenth streeth, where Dick bade her good-night, and sought his room. Thus, his first day back in New York was at an end, and he was not sorry for it. e had enjoyed his trip to the beach, ina measure, but not so much, be told himself, as be ‘would have done, had not he received the cut direct, from Miss Braddock. That rankled in his bosom, and put bim gen- erally out of sorts, _“* Did she suspect his true character?” he ay ih himself over and over again. If she did not suspect, and yet knew he was a prospective partner in the business, how dared she thus in- sult him? What was her motive? from the skies and ex- ick could not have been CHAPTER IV. WHO WAS THAT MYSTERIOUS THIRD PARTY? AN evening at the sea-shore, is nearly as con- ducive to repose us an opiate, and, although never troubled with insomnia, Dick slept sound- ly until daybreak, the next morning. To his relief, when he went down to break- fast, the Guthries were the only ones at the table; so he swallowed his coffee and rolls and beefsteak in some haste, not desiring to meet Lillian Braddock at the table. He was standing on the doorsteps, however, when she came out to go to work. ‘**Good-morning, Mr, Bristol,” she said, paus- ing to raise her sunshade, ‘‘Did you havea pleasant trip to the Island, last evening?” ** Delightful,” Dick replied. ‘‘I hope you en- joyed it?” ‘*1? Why I did not gol all the evening!” ‘“*Oh!” Dick said, ‘‘'I must have been mis- taken. 1 thought I saw you on the boat.” He got no chance to question her further, for, bidding him good-morning, she tripped down the steps, and away in the direction of Broad- w I remained at home ay. ‘““Humph! I see how it is, now, I think,” Dick mused, gazing after her. ‘‘It was the other Miss Braddock to whot I bowed, And that little vixen, Sadie, knew it all the time, and laid the trap which I fell plumb into! Con- oa her! I could box hér ears, with a good will! He did not get the opportunity, however, for — in some way, managed to evade meeting im- During the forenoon, Dick paid another visit to Mr. Braddock, and found him alone, in his private office. ** Well, young man, what luck?” the merchant queried, brusquely. ‘*Oh! none, as yet,” Dick replied, ‘* You must remember that I have hardly had time to do any work on the case.” “True, Well, I hope you'll soon find out some- thing, for this annoyance preys upon my mind, and I can get but little sleep, nights.” ** Rest assured [ shall do all I can, in your be- half. 1] paid a visit to Coney Island, last night, but, having nothing to work on, I could do noth- ing. Your daughter, I believe, went down on the same boat I did.” : ‘* Indeed? But, you are mistaken. Having suffered one loss, Nola is sensible not to visit the Island again, right away. “No, she wasat home, last evening, entertaining some callers,” ** Are you sure?” “Sure? Why, you might as well ask me am I sure I am Jiving.” “Then, there isa mistake somewhere,” Dick declared. ‘‘Can you describe tome your daugh- ter’s appearance, Mr. Braddock?” “Certainly. Icandoeven better than that. I will invite you home to tea with me, to-night, and you can have the opportunity of making the acquaintance of both my son and daughter.” ‘Thank you. Ina business way, Iwill ac- cept the invitation. But, is there anything to hinder your giving me your daughter’s de- scription, beforehand?” “Certainly not. You haveseen Lillian, my secretary.” **T have.” ‘** Very well, then you will see her exact dupli- cate, when you see my daughter, Nola, They are as like as two peas, For instance, pray ex- amine the two pictures in this locket, and tell ine if you can detect any difference in them. If you can, I'll stand a champagne supper at Del- monico’s!” Here the merchant detached a locket charm from his watch-chain, opened it, and handed it to the detective. Two small photographs were fitted within the case, both being sy Dick scrutinized them intently. “Well, what do you say?” Trumbull Brad- dock demanded. “But for two things, I should say that both pictures were of one person,” Dick answered. ** And what are the two things?) I-haveshown those pictures to numerous persons, and not one ever saw a particle of difference.” “‘ The only difference I am able to discern,” ‘replied Dick, ‘‘is that one of the young ladies has slightly broader shoulders, and is larger of bust than the other. As for the faces, they are simply alike.” “You are right. out to be Lillian?” ** The ove with the broader shoulders.” “You have guessed correctly, And, now, what does this all mean? Wh'y were you so par- Which one would you pick Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. 5 ticular about getting my daughter’s description? and what caused you to suppose she went to Coney Island, last night?" Dick explained what is already known to the reader, concerning his taking rooms at the same house where Miss Braddock boarded, about. the meeting on the boat, and the singular rebuff, and about the final conclusion he had come to— that the offending lady was Miss Nola Braddock, instead of Lillian, “Well, this isa queer affair,” the merchant grunted, ‘I don’t mind acknowledging te two daughters that look alike, hut I'll be hanged if I'll have three on the string! If Lillian says she staid at home last night, she did, and you can depend on it, And, as for my Nola’s being home, I'll swear/to tbat, and that’s the end o’ it! So, now then, who is this other woman?” ‘* You tell me, and perhaps I can tell you,” Dick replied. ‘In face and figure the person I saw on the boat was very like your daughter, Lillian. The only difference was in ber attire. She was richly and stylishly dressed, and wore a handsome pair of solitaire diamond earrings. This was one thing that convinced me she was your daughter Nola, after Lillian’s statement that she had not been at the Island.” Trumbull Braddock looked grave. “It is strange—exceedingly strange,” he said, “that there should be three girls in this city, all of about one age, and all lool:ing exactly alike. “The matter must be investigated at once. I'll give you what money you want,and wish you to start for Coney Island at once, and find out who this third girlis. Something seems to warn me that she is in some way connected with the plot,” } ‘It may be,” Dick assented. ‘‘ I doubt, how- ever, if there is any likelihood of finding her there now.” . ‘*No harm trying. Find her you must, cost what it may. While you’re gone, I'll have a watch kept on my two daughters, to satisfy myself that neither of them are doing anything wrong.” ** T would rather you would not do that, for it might conflict with some of my plans, don’t you ‘'T don’t see how; nevertheless, I will be gov- erned by your wisbes,” ‘Thank you. Now, when do you want me to return to Coney Island.” ‘*No hurry until to-morrow. You can drop in here about five o'clock, and { will take you home to tea.” To this Dick agreed, and took his departure. Before going, however, he inquired of Mr. Braddock, if the young man yesterday, who en- tered the store as Dick went out, was his son, Vanderbilt. The merchant replied in the affirmative. “ Thatsettles one point,” the detective mused. ‘‘When I see Vanderbilt Braddock again I shail know him.” Consulting bis watch, he found that he would have plenty of time to run down to West Brigh- ton, and back in time for supper with the Brad-_ docks. So, boarding a car, he set out for new Pier One, from which the boat sailed. Arriving at the pier, he found out that the boat did not leave for half an hour, so passed some time wandering about the neighborhood, where a number of rough characters were wont - or, longshoremen, emigrants, and the like, Dick engaged one of the numerous “‘shining” - fraternity to blacken up bis boots—a lad of probably sixteen years, poorly attired in sailor shirt, baggy trowsers, and jockey cap—a lad with a good-natured, intelligent face, despite the dirt upon it, and sparkling brown eyes and chesthut bair. He possessed a strong, athletic figure, that in- dicated the ability to care for himself under ’most any circumstances, “ Goin’ ter Coney?’ he asked, upturning his dirty face, as he applied bis brushes with an off-hand skill, that proved him to be no ama- teur. “Tam,” Dick replied. ‘‘ Why do you ask?” ‘Oh, nothin’. I was jest er thinkin’ it must be boss down thar now. I heerd Jimmy Flan- nigan tellin’ the gang about it.” “*Why do you not godown to the sea-shore sometimes?” “Me? Nix! It takes all I can make to s’port the old woman.” : ‘*The old woman?” . “ Yes—granny, who I live witb.” ** Are your parents not living?” “Guess they are, tho’ no one knows where they are. They skipped off an’ left me with Cs.
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Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. grandmother when I was a little sprout about a foot high.” ‘*What is your name?” ** William Bucket—Billy Bucket, for short.” ~ ‘* So, Billy, you’ve never been down to Coney Island, and you born and brought up here within forty minutes of the beach?” ry) No, sir,” ** Where do you live?” ‘Oh, about a stone’s throw from here.” “‘ Well, Billy, I'll tell you whatI’lldo. Hurry up and finish my boots and go and get your face washed, and I'll take you along with me.” The gamin paused long enough to gaze up at his customer incredulously. “Git out! You're kiddin’ me!” he ejaculated. ‘Nothing of the sort, Be lively, now, if you want to go, for the boat leaves in twenty min- utes, Billy Bucket did want to go, and he did hurry in the most approved manner. Coney Island was to him a wonderland—a fairy-like place—of which he had heard much, and vainly longed to see; and now here was an opportunity afforded to gratify his desire! He would indsed be a ninny not to accept it, he told himself; so he hurriedly finished his job, and skurried away to make bis ablutions, He was back in ten minutes, considerably metamorphosed in appearance, for his face was clean, his hair combed, and he wore a new pair of trowsers, a white flannel sailor shirt, a straw hat, and a pair of canvas shoes, As Dick observed, when they were on the boat, there was not a handsomer or neater- looking lad on the steamer than this self-same New York street gamin, Billy Bucket. **- You'll do, my boy,” he said, surveying Billy approvingly. Although he had been on the water before, this excursion was a source of particular enjoy- ment to the bootblack, and he chatted gayly. On the lower deck, Dick espied the same boat- band who had talked with Lillian Braddock’s countepart the night before, for the steamer was the Cepheus again. “ Billy, do you hang around the piers much? inguired the detective. “ Yas, consider’ble. ““Do you know the names of many of the boat-hands?” d “* Yes, some of ’em.” «‘ You are the very lad I want, then. If you stick by me, and serve me well, [’l] makea man of you. I’ve had a number of apprentices already, and they’ve all turned out well. How would you like to be a detective?” “ A detective? Be you one?” ** Yes; but, ’sh! not a word of it to any one!” **Oh! ye needn’t be afeard. [kin keep my trap close as a clam in frosty weather.” “Good. Now 1am engaged in working up a little case, and I’ve an idea [ can make you use- ‘* All right, boss; ye kin jest count me right in. I kinder take to ye, like a coon does ter water nelon, and if there’s anything I can do te help you, you can count on me every time.” - Well, if 1 take you on, you, must promise to obey my instructions faithfully, and what i learn connected with the case we shall have n hand, you are to keep strictly a secret from every one except me.” ‘Correct, boss! You can put dependence in me ’thout fear, an’ if I fail ye, I'll let ye kick me clean out o’ the country, and then [ll kick myself, w’ich will be equivalent to kicking the . bucket!” Dick laughed at this, and then called his at- tention to the repulsive-looking boat-hand, ‘* You see that fellow yonder, Billy?” ““ Yes.” ‘Do you know him?” ‘Yas, I know all I wanter of him, durn him!” and the lad’s eyes fairly blazed, ‘‘ He bit me over the head with a belayin’-pin once.” ** Who is he?” *€ Jack Flack. He’s a crook, an’ I wonder the steamboat company employs the likes o’ him!” ** A crook, eh?’ “Yes, He only came off the Island about a year ago, where he was sent up for burglary. He’s a tough, and aire a bad ’un ina fight!” “Do you know where he lives?” “‘Some’ers up in Elizabeth street: I don’t sano just where the house is—that is, the num- r So this rough fellow was Jack Flack, eh?— the first husband of the first Mrs, Trumbull Braddock! Y The discovery started a serious train of thought in the detective’s mind—opened out a ‘vista into which he must penetrate, Seeing that his companion was preoccupied ec eet re ET Se ne ee in thonght, Billy drew a well-worn novel from his pocket and began its perusal. It proved to be one of the well-known ‘t Deadwood Dick” series. ‘“* By Jingo!” exclaimed the boy, after he had read awhile, ‘‘ that feller, Deadwood Dick, is a trump and no mistake! Ever read about him, mister?” “Never!” Dick replied, and relapsed into silence, while Billy resumed the perusal, all un- conscious that the story hero he so strangely admired, was sitting by his side. The boat at length reached the iron pier, the two friends went ashore, and Dick took his ap- prentice around and showed him the sights, much to the gamin’s delight. Tiring of the many shore sights, they Ba cured suits and took a bath in the surf, Then they had dinner, to satisfy appetites that would have done credit te a hungry tramp. The repast over, Dick found it was time for him to start. back for New York. ‘‘ Now, Billy,” he said, ‘‘ you’ve seen what of the Island you need, for pleasure’s sake, and I want you to devote yourseif to business, for money’s sake, Understand?” “Yes, boss, and I’m all ready, when you tell me what to do,” ‘Very well, 1 want you to remain at the Island, until the Cepheus comes down again. Then go aboard of her, and without seeming to do so, keep watch of Jack Flack. Wherever he goes, you go. Don’t lose track of him until you are satisfied that he has retired for the night. Be on the lockout for bim in the morniug; in fact, shadow his every movement as far as pos- sible. If you see him in conversation with a well-dressed, handsome young lady, leave off shadowing Flack, and shadow her! See where she goes, whom she talks with, and as much of what she does, as possible.” ** All right, boss, I’m wid yer. But—” * But, what?” ‘* T ain’t got much money, sir.” “O4! PH fix that all right. Ill give you ten dollars, which will last you until I see you ugain. Don’t spend it foolishly, and you will have omg fe I will probably see you, to-morrow, ut if anything should happen that I donot, you are to report to me, at No, —West Fifteenth.” ‘All right, boss, Ill do jest as you've said, if I bu’st. Who bel to ax for, if I comes to Fifteenth street?” ‘“* Mr, Bristol.” “‘ Mr, Bristol ? Phew! That’s the name of D2adwood Dick, wnat I was telling you about, in the novel!” ‘ And I am that same Deadwood Dick, Billy,” replied the Prince of Detectives, with a smile. So, now, good-by, for 1 must be going. Here’s the money. Take care of it, and look out for Jack Flack.” And with this parting injunction, Dick hur- ried on to the iron pier, to catch the boat, leaving behind bim probably one of the most as- tonished boys in the world, ** Jerusalem! what’s this I’ve struck?’ the gamin ejaculated. “ That feller the real gennywine Deadwood Dick? Pshaw! I don’t believe it! He’s jest stuffin me. I don’t know ’bout it, either, He says his name is Bristol, an’, darned if he don’t tally mighty well with the descriptions of Dead- wood Dick. Jeminy! if it is bim, I’m in Juck, for he’s a white chap to tie to, as they say in the story. ‘* ‘Anyhow, I’m his pard, now, and have got ten dollars in my inside pocket, and so, look out for me, Mr, Jack Flack, for [ll be after you worse’n a Staten Island ’skeeter after a Wall street broker.” The rise from the gamiu street arab to a de- tective pro tem. under the command of so fa- mous a’sleuth as Richard Bristol, was a ieap of importance that Billy may be pardoned fcr feel- ing proud of, and if, in his joy, he put on a few extra airs, as he strutted about, equipped with a cigar and a ten-cent cane, which he won at the ring game, he may likewise be pardoned, For he was a healthy, good-looking lad, and many a young miss cast him a shy glance of ad- miration, as he strutted by. ‘ When the Cepheus arrived at the pier, on her next trip from New York, Billy was on band, ready for business. CHAPTER V. NOLA BBADDOCK. Drapwoop Dicr’s trip back to New York was uneventful, and he reached Mr. Braddock’s office at precisely five o’clock, just as that gen- engage was preparing to quit business for the ay. Dick said nothing relative to his discovery of Jack Flack, noy of his taking Bill Bucket into his employ, for it was not necessary that Brad- dock should know what was transpiring and what discoveries had been made. They left the store, entered the merchant’s private barouche, and were driven to his unpre- tentious but substantial and comfortable resi- dence on Park avenue. Although the exterior of the house was plain and unassuming, the interior was handsomely decorated and magnificently furnished, The parlor into which Dick was shown was a marvel im all that was rich, costly and luxu- rious, {n this room Dick was soon introduced to Miss Nola Braddock, Lillian’s very counterpart, ex- cept tbat she was just a trifle more fragile of build. The face, the eyes, the hair—all the rominent features that were Lillian’s were also ola’s, She was attired in a flowing wrapper of pearl satin and lace, and wore no ornaments what- ever, except a bunch of syringas at her throat. Very pretty, indeed, was she, and, as Dick found out, anentertaining conversationalist, and in every way a genial bostess., The merchant left Nola to entertain his guest, and while they conversed, Dick in vain tried to come to a conclusion whether he had ever seen Nola before or not, Was she the same girl he had seen on the boat? He could not believe it, yet. was noi prepared to decide for certain, Something in her mag- netic dark orbs told him that he bad been under their infiuence before. They chatted for awhile on indifferent topics: then Nola excused herself for a moment to see how near dinner was ready. While she was gone Dick arose and busied himself examining the pictures upon the wall. Just over the grand piano was a half- ength por- trait of a remarkably pretty woman of thirty— a fragile-looking creature, with a fine head, poised upon a beautiful neck; large, Justrous eyes and a mouth of tempting sweetness of ¢x- pression. Both features and temperament indi- cated that the original of the portrait was of French descent. “f reckon that’s the new Mrs. Braddock,” Dick surmised, ‘‘a beautiful devil, if I am any judge of physiognomy.” : Near the portrait was a smaller crayon pic- ture of a broad-shouldered man, with bushy ~ black hair, a long, curling mustache and goutee, _ and the blackest of eyes, He, too, evidently was a Frenchman. Dick had only time to examine these two pic- tures when Nola re-entered the parlor and an- nounced that dinner was ready. ‘By the way,” Dick observed, ‘‘may I ask who is that pretty woman?’—pointing to the Jarger portrait. “That—oh! that is Ma’m’selle Celeste De Ramza.” “Ah! and this gentleman, of dark aspect?” “Count Cayvan, a very wealthy Parisian, a great admirer of mamma’s before she was WAL. ried to papa.” Star. Cy Dick asked no more questions, but accom- panied his hostess to the repast, where the mer- chant and his son were already in waiting. Here Dick received an introduction to the son, and almost immediately took a dislike to him, Vanderbilt was self-conceited and arrogant— one of those know-everything sort of fellows, with an immense opinion of himself, and a poor opinion of every one else, His clothing was fine, and his linen immacu- late, but the diamond stud of yesterday no lon- ger graced his shirt-front. __ . Dick noticed this, and so did Trumbull Brad- dock, for before the dinner was over, the latter said: ‘| observe, Vanderbilt, that the diamond stud I gave you. plain that, my son?” ; d Vanderbilt colored a trifle, and bit his lip, “TJ left it at Tiffany's,” he answered, without looking up from his plate. ‘ It was getting dull and dirty, and so I concluded to have it polish- ed.”’ “J hope you are telling me the truth, my son,” the merchant returned gravely. “ Of course I am telling tbe truth!” Vander- bilt spluttered, nearly choking over a mouthful of salad, ‘Seems to me you're getting awfully suspicious, all at once, If you don’t believe me, asked Nola!” “Yes, papa; Van tells you the truth,” Nola chimed in, “Then it’s all right,” the merchant asserted, evidently satisfied at hisdaugbter’s intervention, ou don’t weer ow do you ex-
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Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. eee “T did not know but what poss bly Vanderbilt had got short of funds, and, like many another foolish youth, had pawned the jewel to ‘ raise the wind’ with! Ha! ba! you'll excuse me, my son, for my doubts?” ‘**You are excusable,” Van replied, loftily. ‘Tam too muchof a gentleman’s son for any- thing like that.” ‘Fhe dinner over, Dick and the merchant re- tired to the parlor, while the junior Braddock put on bis hat and left the house, with the an- nouncement that he was going to the club, “Bristol,” the merchant remarked, when, with lighted cigars, they were comfortably seat- ed in the back parlor, “ I am sorely distresse:!.” “‘ You refer to the case I am working ov?” “Yes, I have thought this matter of the three girls over, thoroughly, and I have come to the conclusion that there are not three girls so remarkably alike!” ‘* It does seem odd that there should be. But, if there are not this trio of counterparts in exis- tence, there must be two.” ‘*Certainly. _We know that!” ‘¢ Then one of the two of your daughters must be the young lady 1 saw on the boat.” ‘Tam afraid that suchis the case. Which of them do you think it was you saw on the boat?” ‘“*T must reply that 1 have not yet madea decision, The matter is one that requires most careful deliberation. If it was Miss Nola Isaw on the boat, she is a skilled actress, or she would have betrayed some token of confusion when we met, to-night. On the other hand, it it was Lillian I saw, she deliberately lied to me, this morning.” “You say the girl on the boat was richly dressed?” “Yes, I don’t know much about the nomenclature of female wearing apparel, but I should infer that the young lady’s costume cost a goodly sum,” ** And she wore diamonds?” ‘A pair of diamond earrings, whose value I should estimate to be worth not less than two hundred and fifty dollars.” “That sounds more like Nola than Lillian,” the merchant decided, with evident distress of mind. ‘‘On twenty dollars a week, Lillian can hardly afford such costly jewelry as that,” * An item of a hundred dollars, or so, is small in the eyes of a person who can raise a good many times that amount, by a few strokes of the pen,” Dick suggested. “True. You then lean to the belief that Lil- lian is the culprit?” “No; Ido not yetso conclude, I will say, however, that, if either Lillian or.Nola are con- cerned in the scheme to fleece you out of your money, whichever one it may be is not alone. There is another, or, more likely, others at the bottom of the whole business.” ** What causes you to believe this?” ‘‘Tt is mere impression. Detectives are always more or less moved or influenced by impressions. Mr. Braddock, at what time did you see your ___-pglaughter the latest, last night?” - “Pans not see her after dinner. We dined rather earlier than usual—about four P. M. While we were eating, the servant announced two young ladies to see my daughter. So Nola went into the parlor, and closed the door, I beard the young folks laughing as i went up- stairs to my room, and again when I came down an hour later, to go for my usual evening walk.” ‘This was about five o'clock?” “ AHalf-past five, exactly.” “Did you hear your daughter on your re- turn?” ‘‘No, It was lodge night, and we had several degrees to confer, so I did no: arrive home until a late hour!” - 4 “Then you are not_positive that Nola did not . go to Coney [sland?” Dick persisted. ‘*Confound it, no! No matter how positive a man might be, I believe you detectives would - talk him out of confidence in himself.” ‘“That’s a part of our business,” and Dick smiled. ‘*When a person loses confidence in himself, he is our victim, in nine cases out of ten.” ‘* Well, if J am not positive, Nola did not go to Coney Island last night, I can soon satisfy you. I will call Nola, and she can say for herself.” “ Not for the world!” Dick protested, quickly, ‘for if. vou do, I will throw up the case, alto- etber. Least of all things is your daughter to know that we have the slightest interest in know- ing whether she went to the Island last mght or not. I don’t say she did go, I’m between a kick and a jump whether to suspect Miss Nola, or not. But for one thing, I should be inclined to suspect her.” TT Se ee ee ne eS ee 7 ‘* And what is this single point that causes you to hesitate?” ‘“T have made a discovery. But, befere I tell you of that, I want to ask you a question. Have Lillian and Nola ever met?” ** Oh! yes,” “Do they know they are related?” ‘“‘They understand that they are cousins, and no more.” ‘* Are they intimate?” ‘““They are not—merely speaking acquaint- ances,” Dick was silent a moment. ‘« Tell me,” he said at length, ‘‘ does your second wife know anything about your first marriage, and its result?” ‘*No, she does not—at least, not that I am aware of. No., what about this discovery you told me of?” ‘¢Oh! it is simply this: “You remember I told you of the girl on the boat—Nola’s counterpart —talking with the rough deck-hand?” “Yes!” I have found out who that deck- “Well, hand is?” ** Who? who?” ‘* His name is Jack Flack !” Trumbull Braddock leaped to his feet with an ejaculation of astonishment. , “Jack Flack!” he echoed—‘‘ Martha’s first husband!” ‘*T suppose so, since it is, not probable that there is more than one Jack Flack.” ‘If tbis be true, by Heaven I must see this man at once, and find out what has become of Martha!” the merchant declared, excitedly. ** You will do nothing of the sort, as long as I have hold of the belm, After I am out of the case you can do as you please. For you to gratify every idle impulse tbat assails you, would ruin the case, and I would be working for nothing. Either I command or [I now re- sign,” Dick declared. Braddock glared at the detective a moment, savagely; then his expression changed to admi- ration, ‘* By the heavens, you're right!” he exclaimed, slapping his knee. ‘* You’re boss! But for you I’d go make an infernal ass of myself, and spoil the whole business. I[d like to see Martha once more, I wou’t deny, and find out bow she’s got along all these years; but, then, I can wait until we knuw better bow we stand.” ‘* Quite right,” Dick assured. ‘Jack Flack is under surveillance of a detective partner of mine, and we shall soon know if he plays any part in this drama. By the way, Mr. Brad- dock, I perceive that there is still a warm spot in your beart for the woman from whom you were forced to seek a divorce—that you have not forgotten her.” ‘God forbid that I should!” was the husky reply, ‘“‘for what other woman would have sacrificed her own happiness, and the future of her unborn offspring, to shield me from dis- grace? I was just rising in my business career then, and she could literally, by a word, save or ruin me. She saved me, and I shall never for- get it—never! But, let’s change the subject. Is there anything I can do to help you?” ‘‘Nothing that I think of at present, more than this: Keep everything relative to the case a strict secret from every one but me. TH work out this enigma yet.” ‘““T hope so. I infer that your opinion does lie toward Lillian.” **T cannot say yes to that. True, there is the suspicious circumstance that the girl I saw on the boat was talking with Jack Flack, and again that Lillian’s mother was Flack’s wife. Still that is nothing, in my estimation, unless it leads to other evidence, I shall do no one the injustice of an unworthy suspicion, until Iam more thoroughly informed.” “Bristol, you are a noble fellow. All your theories are based on good common sense, but it is the common sense of an extraordinary na- ture. Though it may cost me a pang—for I now beheve you believe the origin of the trouble lies nearer at home—I say this: Go ahead and sift the matter to the bottom, no matter who is found guilty. Better disgrace and the truth than this doubt and uncertainty.” Nola entered a few minutes later. ** Pana,” she said, ‘you and Mr. Bristol will réally bave to excuse me this evening, as I have promised Cora Fellows to accompany her to the Casino to-night, .o see Nadiy. | lf Mr. Bristol | that. 0 Dick observed, after she had gone, glancing at jee portrait above the piano, in the front parlor. Trumbull Braddock started, as though shot. ‘* Who breathed that name to you?” he hissed, bending toward the detective, with gleaming ‘“Your daughter,” was the mild reply. “I simply asked whose was the portrait, and re- ceived the answer. No offense, I hope?” ‘Oh! certainly not. Only the name is one I like not. Yonder woman is my wife. There let | eyes. | the matter rest.” And there it did rest. Dick now bid his employer good-nighbt, and departed; but he carried with him a mass of mingled impressions, conjectures and suspicions that must greatly affect this peculiar case, CHAPTER VI. DICK GETS A LEVERAGE. DEADWOOD Dick went straight home to bis lodgings, in West Fifteenth street, and in his room, devoted. himself to long and deep thought. Nor did he arvuse from his reverie until he beard a knock upon the door of, his room, and glancing at bis watch saw that it was Lalf past ten o’clock. Opening the door, he found Mrs. Russel, the landludy, standing outside, ‘* Here is a dispatch for you, Mr. Bristol,” she said,extending him anenvelope, ‘‘ A messenger boy brought it some little while ago, but I did not know you were in your room, yet.” , “Yes, I came in, several hours ago, Mrs, Russel. If you will be in the parlcr, directly, I would like to speak to you, in private.” * Very well, sir. I will wait for you, below,” the landlady replied, and retired. Dick returned to the lamp, in his room, and opened the message, which read as follows: ** Coney Isuanp, July—, “88. “Mr. BrRISsTOL:— ‘-You are certainly very zealous. and very clever, but, take care you do not overdo the mat er, lest harm come to you. PoLiy Pitcrim.” Dick folded the message, and put it m bis pocket. ‘“By Jove! that’s cool!” he mused. ‘* With- out my knowing her, this Polly Pilgrim alreavoy knows me. Humpb! the plot grows decidedly interesting—as good as a novel.” He went down to the parlor where Mrs, Rus- sel was awaiting him, ‘*Mrs, Russel.” be said, when he became seated, “ are we quite alone, so that there is no danger of our being overheard?” “We are,” the landlady replied, evincing some surprise, ‘‘ All of my boarders except one went down to the Island together. They were going to invite you to join the party, but you were not bere to supper.’ ‘* No; I had business elsewhere. Mrs. Russel, T have a few Soong to ask you, but what I wc f I want kept in strict confidence. Can I rely upon you?” * Certainly, sir.” ‘*Very good. To begin with, I am a detec- tive. hen I engaged accommodations here, I really bad no idea of encountering a person who is in some way connected with the case I have in hand. But, baving found the party here, I wish to learn what I can ebout ber, and, if pos- sible, vindicate ber from further suspicion.” “To whom do you refer, sir?” **To Miss Lillian Braddock.” “Oh, my!” and the good woman put up her chubby bands in astonishment, ‘* What has Lilly been do:ng?” ‘*T don’t know tkat she has been doing any- thing in particular, but that is what I want to find out, She is one of two parties who are un- der the ban of suspicion, and, as I sad before, if I can I want to vindicate her, for I really be- lieve her to be an estimable young lady.” ‘“‘And, indeed, sbe is, sir. I am surprised that auy one should suspect Lillian,” ** We will hope to quietly clear her from re- proach, Now, if you will answer my question 1 will be much obliged.” “Certainly, sir. What is it you wish to know?” ‘‘ Did Lillian go to Coney Island last night?” ‘Really, I do not know, es I did not see ber after she left the supper-table. When she re- turns. I will ask her if you like.” ‘Ne. I must request that you will not do Lam of the opinion that she did not go, will butexeuse me this time, 1 will try tobe more | and if I am correct, that is all I want to know, hospitable in the future.” for that will take her out of my case entirely. Both gentlemen gracefully accepted the apolo- | Don’t hint that [ asked you tbe question, nor gy, and Nola retired. “T fancy [see a resemblance in your daugh- ter, to the Mademoiselle Celeste De Ramza,” that I am in the Jeast interested in her. Now anotber question: Has Lillian any steady com- pany?”
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~ **Oh, yes; and a very nice young man he is, too—Mr, Walter Westlake. He works at the same place Lillian does,” ““T have met the gentleman,” Dick replied. “He seems to be a nice fellow. Has Lillian any acquaintances at Couey Island?” ** None in particular, I guess,” ‘Has she a pair of valuable diamond ear- rings?” **My, no! She cannot afford such luxuries on the salary she gets, out of which she has to sup- port ber mother,” **Do you know where her mother lives?” “IT do not, Lillian is rather reticent on that point, sir.” **Do you think you could find out?” “Tf it will net bring harm to Lillian, I might try. But I would not do a thing to endanger her.” **Quite natural; nor would I have you, It is not Lillian I would criminate, and if I could find her mother, I am sure I could make the girl proof-clear of all suspicion. Find where Lillian’s mother lives, and I will give you ten dollars.” Now, Mrs, Russel was not a greedy woman, nor a parsimonious one, but ten dollars was equivalent to a week’s board, without any out- - or trouble, and that was no small matter to er, So she said: ‘‘ Very well, sir, I will try and find out for you.” ‘**Do so, but take care to not betray that any ane else is interested in the matter but your- self, Dick put on his hat and left the house. Comparatively few Gothamites think of going to hg before twelve o’clock on a Saturday night. In his wanderings, Dick ‘dropped into the ‘hite Elephant, on Broadway, a somewhat no- torious billiard room, and resort for sporting men, Here, engaged in a game of billiards with an- other youth of about bis own age, Dick beheld Vanderbilt Braddock. He was apparently excited over the game, and flushed from an excess of drink, Without being noticed, Dick took a seat near at band, and watched the game. _* lt was for money, as Dick very soon found out, Young Braddock’s opponent was by far the more careful player, and eventually won the — and collared the stakes, which were ten ollars a side, Braddock fished about his pockets for a few imutes, in search of funds that were not there, and then, as a last resort, put up his watch against ten dollars, for avotker game. ~ It was not until after the game began, that he spied the detective. He colored, and was confused for a moment; then recovering his composure by an effort, ad- vanced and extended his hand, ‘* How are you?” he said, familiarly. ‘‘Glad to see you. Ever play billiards?” * Never,” Dick answered. “Well, you’re in luck. I playa fine game sometimes, but to-night, unfortunately, luck’s against me.” : He returned to the table, and resumed play- ing. Although Dick was but little posted in the game, it soon became apparent to him that Van stood no chance of winning. He was nervous and urcsteady, while his op- ponent was quite the reverse. When Braddock had scored only sixteen oe ge bis opponent had twenty-seven and the e ad, and, without any apparent effort, ran. the |, game out. Braddock then wanted to play another ten dollars’ worth on the watch, but the other mag- nanimously declined, ** You’re in bad luck,” he said, ‘‘and I won’t take advantage of you. Your watch is wortha hundred dollars. I will bold it ten days, to give ou an opportunity to pay me the twenty dol- ars you owe me,” and putting up his cue, he walked away. Young Braddock stood for a moment, staring at the floor as if dazed; then, as if impelled by desperation, he turned to Deadwood Dick. “Tm dished!” he said. ‘That fellow has got my watch, and I’ve got the games to pay for, without a cent to pay for them. Bristol, you are a stranger to me, but I beg of you to help me out this scrape. Lend metwenty dollars, till I see the old wo— I mean an acquaintance of mine, and [ will pay you back without ‘fail to-morrow night. But, don’t say anything about this to father, [—I— If that fellow Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. gets away with my. watch, I'll never see it again!” ; ‘Til I see the old wo—, I mean an acquain tance of mine !” The words fairly took Dick’s breath away! What had he discovered? What had he not discovered! “ Certainly, I shall be most happy to help you out of a little troucle like this,” he said, draw- ing arollof bank notes from his pocket, and counting out five fives into young Braddock’s hands. you get your watch.” The merchant’s son thanked him, and hastened | away, in an ecstasy of deiight. As he did so, a siip of paper dropped to the floor from his pockets, in which he had vainly been fumbling, in quest of a possibly mislaid bill. Dick picked up the paper, examined it care- fully and then put it away in his pocket, “ft is as I thought!” he mused, ‘By Jove! I think I begin to see my way clear. At any rate, I have got a leverage!” Young Braddock returned, a few minutes later, with a smiling countenance. ‘“*AllO, K.!” hesaid. “I’ve got my watch, and J am mightily obliged to vou!” **Oh! don’t mention it!” Dick returned. “I know what it is to be ina hole, myself, By the way, I’m going down to Brighton, Monday, and think I can put you in a way of making a little money. What do you say?” ‘* How do you mean—on the races?” “c Yes,” “Tm with you, heart and soul. I shall have some money by that time, and we’ll go in halvers.” “Agreed. In the mean time, let me give you a little advice, Drink no more to-night. You want a clear head Monday. Iam also going to the Beach to-morrow. You had better come with me, and [ll see you don’t get underboard.” “Tl do it,” Vanderbilt assented, after a mo- ment’s reflection, ‘‘ I don’t know what you are nor who you are, except by name, but you've used me white, and I'll use you the same. Where will I meet you?” ** At Iron Steamboat Pier, ten o’clock, sharp.” ‘* All right, I will be there.” They separated, Dick going direct to his lodg- ings. He had been but comparatively a few hours in the metropolis, and yet believed he held the key in his grasp that would unlock a most peculiar plot, And, needless to add, Vanderbilt Braddock was the key he proposed to utilize. CHAPTER VIL DICK’S DIPLOMACY, THE morrow came—one of those days at the seaside so delightful to some, and so obnoxious to others. 4 It began foggy, dull, drizzling and dismal. By ten o’clock few people were abroad—here and there occasional fayers returning from mass; the inevitable group under the saloon- keeper’s awning, anda couple of venturesome gamins. When Dick made his appearance at the Iron Steamboat pier, he found only a handful of ople gathered there to.take the boat, Van raddock among them. “T am afraid we’re going to have a dismal day of it,” the merchant’s son said, with a shiver. ‘** Oh! I guess not!” the detective encouraged. ‘*These are the sort of days one enjoys on the water. You seem a bit shaky.” “*T should say so. Haven’t bad my accustom- ed nip yet, and then, too, ’'ve met with another loss, that is not pleasant to think of, but I sup- pose there’s no use of worrying about it,” ** Anything I can help you out of?” “Oh! no!” with a deep-drawn sigh, nothing you can remedy.” Dick knew otherwise, but did not say so, ** What you want is something to warm you up,” he suggested, ‘‘ Let’s go aboard and see if any of the lightning they dish out will have ef- fect upon you,” So they went on board, and, as soon as the boat had slipped out of her slip, Dick took the young man to the bar and ordered a hot whisky, which seemed tu “ brace up” the flabby young man about town. ‘** There!” Dick said, taking his arm after he had dispatched the beverage, “that’s all you will get until you have bad something to eat, and very little you will get afterward. If there’s any of your father’s stamina in you, I'll try to make something of you. If there’s not, why, you'll fetch up in jail!” * Tt’s “What? What do you mean?” Van articu- lated, staring at the detective blankly. ** Come above and I will tell you,” was Dick’s answer, They ascended tothe next deck and took a seat, where the mist could not strike them, “Now, then, I want to know what you mean by your reference to my going to jail?’ Van de- manded, an angry glitter in hiseyes. ‘i’m not used to being addressed in that manner.” ‘* Then, the sooner you get used to it the bet- ‘* Hurry up, vow, and come back, when | ter for you,” Dick replied. ‘*‘ Your present man- ner of life is simply shameful, Do you not know thet you are doing your father a great wrong, and at the same time killing your own prospects with him?” ‘**T don’t know what you mean. What have I done?” ‘Enough, that, did your father know the true state of affairs, he would kick you into the street, and forbid you bis house. For one thing, you told him a positive and outrageous false- hood, and, worse than all, your sister backed you up in it!” Young Braddock turned pale, then flushed with anger. “Your impudence is truly refreshing!” he gritted. “If you think Vl stand this sort of thing, you'll find out to the contrary. Dve not lied to my father, nor to any one else, and I de- mand an apology from you!” “If you were entitled to one you should have it, but you are not,” Dick returned, decisively. ‘** You needn’t get into a passion, for it won’t do you any good, but rather will imperil your fu- ture prospects. I’ve got you dead to rights, and the best thing for you to do is to take things philosophically, young mav. “You did lie to your father, and I have the proof of it. You told bim you bad left your diamond at Tiffany’s to be polished, when you did nothing of the sort, Your diamond isin pawn at Simpson’s; on the Bowery, and, I’ve got the ticket !” ‘*Ha! then, curse you, it is you who robbed me!” Van cried, leaping to his feet, flaming with rage. ‘Give me that ticket, instantly, or I'll have you arrested!” if i **Sit down, young man, and be calm, or it will be you who will be arrested!” Dick coolly retorted. ‘Do you see this?” and the detective ped up the lapel of his vest, and exposed his dge. ** You perceive,” be*went on, ‘‘ that I am not. without authority, so you had better conduct yourself quietly, or you will get yourself into a scrape you won't get out of very easily.” ‘Bab! who’s afraid of you?” and the mer- chant’s son snapped bis thumb and finger con- temptuously. ‘I’ve done nothing I ean be ar- rested for.” lle» ‘Haven't you? Well ng roue, if I so choose, I could arrest you for conspiracy in a scheme to defraud your father out of bis money —for forgery and for theft!” Vanderbilt pe at the detective a moment, strangely, and then gave vent to a Tce laugh, ‘' Either you’re crazy or a fool, for never heard such a mess of nonsense before? 7 “T am quite too smart for such scamps as you,” Dick replied, ‘‘and if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I'll put the’ bracelets on you and land you in jail, Hew would that suit?” Van winced, and grew very pale. “Well, ll be banged if I know what you are talking about. Tl swear I don’t know of any such scheme, and if there’s anytbing you want to know that I do know, why I'll tell ‘you. Dd like to know, too, how you got hold of the pawn- ticket,” “Tt fell out of your pocket in the White Ele- phant last night, and | picked it up,” *« And you don’t propose to give it back to me eb?” against your father, fully, and show a disposition to lead a more straightforward life, ) save you not only from disgrace in the eyes of your father, but also from arrest.” f “There you go again, speaking in riddles, [ never studied to be the editor of a puzzle depart- ment, so you will bave to excuse me for a lack of comprehension. What is it you want to know?” “First of all, where is your mother?” “ Over in Europe, I suppose. She's been there upwards of a year now.” : “You don’t suppose anything of the kind, Your mother is not in Europe.” “No? Well, you know more about it than t do, then. I have been given to understand that she was there by father.” ‘*Van Braddock, you lie! You know your — ‘‘ Not unless you help me to explode this plot j ‘ f you do that freely and — sball no doubt be ableto
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| mother is not in Eurcye. You know that she is living in New York, or very near it,” j ‘“*I know nothing of tbe sort. Nor will I stand another accusation that I ne!” ‘* How are you going to help yourself? When you do lie, you need not take offense at being told of it. Now, then, perhaps you can explain this: Last evening, when you promised to pay me back the money I loaned you to-night, you started to say you would get it from the old woman, but abruptly corrected yourself to say acquaintance |” : If this was a staggerer to the young man, he did not betray as much surprise as might have been expected, but laughed peculiarly. ‘* Well, since you have such a penchant for meddling with other. people’s business, I sup- pose I might as well explain,” he said. ‘‘ I’ve been keeping company with a widow’s daughter and the old woman, as I sometimes call the widow, has set her heart on seeing her daughter married into the Braddock family. On the strength of that I’ve been able to get the loan of F ten or twenty now and then, when I happened to be short. So, you see, you’re off the track. As for mother’s being in America, that’s all . - utter nonsense.” Dick remained silent a few seconds. Van’s story was plausible, but the wary detec- tive was not ah te Nem to believe if. However, it might not be policy to pretend longer to doubt the youug fellow, so he said: «Well, we will waive all that at present. We Bi detectives often have to suspect guiltless persons, | | ' : If I have given you unjust offense, pardon me.” “Of course [ will,” was Van’s quick rejoinder. “Now I wish you'd give me back that pawn ticket. I would not have father know that I had the stud in the hock for a good deal.” “* How much is it in for?” _ “Seventy-five dollars.” 44 “A big figure. L ought to give the ticket to ; your father,” he said, ** but to protect you from | being caught in a lie, ’ll make a bargain witb 0 uu. ; ** What is it?” ; ** Promise me not to say a word of what has | passed between us to a living soul, nor to hint that I am a detective,and I will get the dia- / mond out of pawn for you to-morrow.” “ By Jove, Pll doit! I promise you upon my . word as a gentleman,” . “Very well, That is sufficient. I caught 4 you in alie to your father, and naturally thought ] you might be suspected otherwise. But, let it : drop.” And there it did drop, so far as any conversa- tion on the matter went. t not by any means was Dick disposed to leave that trail. ' He now felt doubly sure that Van had lied to him, and that Theodora Braddock was in Amer- ica, and knew that, if Such should prove to be the case, mother, son, and daughter were equally concerned in the plot against the mer- \ chant. ; Until he was in better position to prove all __this :ewever. Dick did not wish to occasion un- ~~ necessafy alarm in the camp of the enemy; hence his conciliatory terms with them. ~~ He could, at least, wait until Billy Bucket re- ported the result of his shadowing. } ' CHAPTER VIII. BILLY BUCKET’S DISCOVERIES, THE boat steamed on through the misty morn- , ing, but ere she had rounded Coney Island ~ point, the fog lifted, and the clouds began to _ scatter; ere the boat touched at the pier, thesun shone out with summer fervor, Dick and Vanderbilt wandered about West irighton for awhile, but ere long the merchant’s contrived to drop his companion, and was to be found again. ee S. food bumor, Dick tramped about in quest of Billy Bucket. mid-day, every vestige of the disagreeable morning had vanished, and long railway trains, ee » Jaden with humanity, came rushing into the ___ little city by the sea, only to be emptied, and re- turn New Yorkward, for another freight of pas- Ri te 4gengers, he ‘ Boat-loads of passengers also came, and the Be ies whole island from West Brighton to Manhattan 7 _ Beach literally swarmed with people, making it ‘ “A Deadwood ick had rather expected some such dodge as. Dick Jr. at Coney Island. 9 a great holiday more thana Sabbath day of rest, The water front was alive with bathers, both old and young, lean and fat, who soused, splash- ed and screamed to their hearts’ content; the merry-go-rounds were crowded with riders who man didn’t seem to cotton much to Flack, and jedgin’ by several theater moves she made with her hand, I reckoned she was excited, “Well, anyhow, after a spell moreo’ chinnin’, the woman give Flack suthin’ that looked like money, and then turned upon her heel, opera loved to be gaped at—gigling girls, and mature | like, and come back to the hotel, and that’s the matrons in predominance; the countless beer- iums and other booths and catch-penny fakes were simply coining money, and the boulevard was crowded with gay equipages filled with the creme de la creme of upper cen society. Everywhere was life, bustle and merriment, every person vying with each other by way of making the most of a pleasant day’s outing. Deadwood Dick was here, there and every- where, in anxious search of his apprentice, but it was mid-afternoon ere he found that young man, busily engaged in the mastication of one of Paul Bauer’s dinners, ‘““Ah! Ive found you at last, have I?’ Dick said. ‘‘I have been looking a good three hours for you. What's the best word, Billy?” ‘**Oh! I’ve got a lot to tell you, boss, but just at present ’m engaged in filling the Bucket, so ee eee ae me, hen I’ve got my fill I will talk. “ All right, my boy, Sail in and get your fill, and I will wait for you,” and he seated himself at the table. ‘Only be careful not to overtax the capacity of the kitchen, for there are others down here to-day who may want to get a meal, if there’s anything left,” Billy grinned and resumed his food with a gusto that lsft no doubt but what he was hungry. When he had finished and paid his bill, he and Dick left the restaurant, and going down to the beach, sauntered along the water’s edge in the direction of the Briglton Beach Hotel. ** Now, then, Billy, let’s hear your report,” Dick commanded. * Well,” replied Billy, ‘‘I follered your in- structions to ther letter. I boarded the Cepheus soon’s she come down yesterday, an’ rid back an’ for’a’d on her till night, next to her last trip down. Jack Flack were on her all the time, but I kinder like kept out.’ his way. ‘** When on ther next to ther last trip down, Flack an’ the capt?ing had a quarrel ‘bout suthin’, an’ Flack punched the capt’ing in the nose and drawed blood. When the boat teched at the old iron pier, Flack was bounced off, and told if he ever come onter the boat again he’d be throw’d overboard. So, as he were off, I got off, too, ‘““ Well, Flack he cussed around for awhile until he was ordered off the pier, and then he went around from saloon to saloon an’ filled up on stagger juice till he couldn’t hold no mere, an’ then he went over into a bad locality known as ** The Gut,” put up at a cheap lodging place, and I didn’t see no more of him till this morn- ing. ‘** Well,” pursued Billy, after lighting a cigar- ette, “I left Flacky there for the night, but took good care to be around bright and early this morning, so that there should be no chance for him to give me the slip, ““T wasn’t none too early, neither, for he was up, and about two sheets in the wind, at that, I watched him when he left the place, an’ fol- lered him, Ye’d be surprised to see how he was fixed out. He had on a new suit o’ clothes, a new hat, a white shirt, and had his hair and whiskers trimmed up, an’ looked the most re- spectable I ever saw him, ‘*He went to Baeder’s Hotel, up thar where the boulevard begins, and then he got inter a hack and went to the Brighton Beach Hotel, with me follerin’ in another hack. _ “ When he got tiere, be seemed sort 0’ famil- iar, like, fer he left a note at the office, and then went and took a seat on the piazzer. “‘T savvyed that it wouldn’t do for me to make myself too conspickerous, an’ so I kept a respecterble distance, where I could keep an eye on him, I kin tell ye I hadn’t had no break- fast, and I kinder felt as if this Bucket war kinder empty, but I wasn’t lettin’ Flacky slide, nohow, “Well, after awhile, a lady came out 0’ the house, and wandered down to the beach; she was tall and slim, and dressed im black, I couldn't see her face, for she wore a vail over it, Purty svon, Flack he gets up, and goes down an’ meets the woman on the beach. On course it wasn’t polercy fer me to foller, an’so I had nothin’ ter do but to lay shady, and use my eyes, instead of my ears. = “Flack he offered to shake hands with the woman, but she kicked onter that. Then, they | chinned together, for, I sh’u’d say ten minutes, | IT hain’t got no hoss-timer, so I couldn't say ef I’m correct as to ther exact minnits, The wo- last I see of her.” “Hum!” and Dick removed his hat long enough to wipe the perspiration from his fore- head. ‘Is that all?” ‘*No, it ain’t. But, ain’t that suthin’?” ‘*It is. You’ve done far better than I had reason to hope for, Billy. I am proud of the success of your first effort in the detective line. But, go on: give me what other details you may have.” ‘“ Well, there ain’t much. After the woman left Flack, he wandered up the beach a ways, and sat down on the dry sand, and appeared to be watchin’ the ocean. He stayed there for an hour, I reckon. ** In the mean time, I got chinnin’ with one o’ the hotel employees, what wanted to borry a cigarette from mé, an’ axed him who the wo- man in black was, He sed she was arich lady, as lived in a country seat, back on Long Island, somewhere, and that her name was Mrs. Cay- van. That's all I could pump out of him, ‘* So, whea Flack got up and started for West Brighton again, I follered him, at eye distance, One o’ tbe railroad depots puked out a swarm 0’ assengers all at once, however, and I lost lack, and wasn’t able to locate him, ag’in. So as the inner Bucket needed a fillin’, I concluded to have a feast.” : . bs Faint! right. You’ve done all I could ask of you, Billy, and I feel sure of winning the ease, If we do, we sball both be a dollar in pocket, Now, let me think, as we walk on,” And as they strolled along the beach, Dick carefully considered all this new evidence. He was no longer at fault whom to suspect. He was now more sure than ever that Mrs, Theodora Braddock was not in Europe, but was the vailed woman who, a to Billy Bucket’s account, bad met Jack Flack in front of the Hotel Brighton. Instead of traveling through Europe for pleasure, she was quietly living in America, separated from her busband, for profit, and such of her schemes as had al- ready been attended with success were no doubt but the incipient stages of the greater and more sweeping baul which she expected to make, Flack wasa low-bred ruffian,yet she had given him money. W hat for? F What for, indeed, unless it was hush money‘ Then recurred to the detective’s mind the cir- cumstance of the portraits. When he bad asked Nola Braddock regarding the portrait of the French beauty in her father’s parlor, the answer had been that it was Mademoiselle Celeste De Ramza. And the picture next the portrait Nola bad said was of Count Cayvan,a millionaire Pa- risian, and a former admirer of her mother, Not an hour later Trumbull Braddock had said the portrait was of bis wife and had seemed displeased at mention of the name Celeste De Ramza, and had requested that the subject be dropped. ow, then, here was a vailed woman in black, stopping temporarily at the Hotel Brighton, who lived at a country seat on Long Island, and who also knew Jack Flack well enough to yield to his importunities for money. And Flack was the busband of Trumbull Braddock’s first wife! To the detective, out of that mass of fact slowly dawned the truth, : Mrs, Theodora Braddock was living in com- parative retirement at a Long Island country seat, and devoting her leisure time to swindling her busband, aided by her son and daughter, Vanderbilt and Nola. She was living under the name of Mrs. Cay- van. Perhaps with Count Cayvan, whose pic- ture occupied a place in her New York parlor! Perhaps, again, she was the count’s wife, prior to her marriage with Braddock, and she and the count were working hand and glove in this criminat matter of swindling. This latter idea struck the Wild West detec- tive as being quite consistent with all the condi- tions of the case. Granting that such was the fact, how was Jack Flack connected with it? How? Well, perhaps Flack had stumbled upon a knowledge of the daring scheme, and of the woman’s marriage to Trumbull Braddock, and bad turned bis knowledge to account asa means of extorting money. _ ‘Well, boss, hey you got it figgered out?”
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10 Billy demanded, finally, his curiosity getting the better of him, “Yes, or very nearly so,” Dick replied. “ What I want now is to find out more about ‘ this woman in black and I think I can attend to thatalone, For you, Pve got another matter to attend to.” **Sbadder Flack again!” ‘*No, Flack can take care of himself for the present. 1 want you to take the first train back to New York, and call on Mr. Trumbull Brad- dock, at Number — Park avenue, Tell him that I sent you, and want him to come here at once, and put up at some quiet place—Thomp- son’s Hotel, for instance—and remain there until I callon him. Tell him that I have made an important discovery; but say no more. Under- stand?” ‘* Yes, boss.” ‘“‘Very well. Be off by the first train now, lose no more time than is necessary. You can return with Mr, Braddock, and then devote your time to hunting up Jack Flack, and keeping him under surveillance, until I see you again. Have you money enough?” “Yes, for the present. Hello! . der!” They had left the beach, and were walking along the edge of the Concourse, near where tbe Boulevard branches off, and runs to Prospect Park, Brooklyn. Coming toward them, from the direction of the et Hotel Brighton, was a handsome barouche equipped with a high-stepping span of bays, and a liveried driver and footman, The barouche contained a party of four, be sides the servants; one a large man of past the middle age, with iron-gray, bushy hair, a heavy pointed mustache and goatee—a living repro- duction of the picture of Count Cayvan, in the Braddock parlor, except for the silvery streak in the hair and beard. He was well dressed, and decidedly imposing of appearance. Look yon- $ ss Beside him was seated a tall, slender woman, »> = dressed in black, and wearing a crepe vail le ee ~~. over her face, that rendered her features undis- * eae _ tinguishable. pposite her sat Vanderbilt Braddock, and opposite ae sat the same girl Dick had _seen on the } in ao Bhegvas _/ -. and jewelry. >. A passing string of stages partly concealed - Dick and Billy from those in the barouche, and : 0 they escaped discovery. e-barouche wheeled off the Concourse into ulevard, and sped away toward Brook- “** There!” Billy exclaimed triumphantly, when a cloud of dust hid the conveyance from view. ‘‘ That woman in black is the same one that held the confab with his royal nibs, Jack Flack.” Dick nodded. “*T understand,” he said. ‘You've been of great service to me, my boy, and you shall be well paid, I don’t suppose there’s any use of my going on to Brighton Beach now, so I willreturn oe with you as far as the Culver depot, and see you off for New York. Accordingly, they retraced their footsteps, and Billy Bucket was soon on the cars, speeding away toward the metropolis, } As for Dick, be resumed his saunterings about West Brighton, played a game of billiards here, tried his hand at target practice there, and altogether felt elated over his success in getting so neatly at the game he had set out to cap- ture. If Theodora Braddock, alias Mra, Cayvan, was Polly Pilgrim, why, it already began to look ' as if serious trouble might soon overtake the aforesaid Polly and her associates, CHAPTER IX. LILLIAN’S DELIVERANCE, A COUPLE of hours’ wandering about West Brighton brought Dick to the conclusion that he | Was getting leg-weary, so entering one of the free music and variety pavilions, and taking a seat at a vacant table, be ordered a beer: ’ The entertainment was of a tame, uninterest- ing character, and Dick was beginning to con- : sider the advisability of going for something to ae. eat, when he felt a jag on the shoulder, and looking around, found t Westlake and Sadie Sands standing in his presence. ‘ * ‘*Good-morning, Mr. Bristoh—or, more ap- oh, propriately, I guess, good-afternoon!” Westlake saluted. ‘‘ {see you are enjoying yourself.” ‘Passing away time, rather,” Dick replied: “for Pl vouch there’s nothing about this show tically the same, even to dress | to make one particularly joyful. Won't you sit down?” “No, thanks, We are looking for Miss Lil- lian, who came down with us, but got sepa- rated from us in the crowd. 1 didn’t know but you might have seen her.” ‘* No, [ have not.” ‘*Oh, well, we doubtless will find her soon. Come, Miss Sands, let’s resume our search,” and Westlake turned away, Sadie potion him, much to Dick’s relief, as he half expecte she would try to saddle herself off on him. After they were gone Dick left the pavilion, and began a search for Lillian Braddock on his own hook, more to satisfy a doubt that had arisen in his mind than aught else. What if, after all, it should turn out to be Lillian whom he had recently seen seated in tae Cayvan barouche? It would be a disappointment to him, yet he was prepared not to be astonished, if such should be the case. If Lillian was not now to be found, for the searching, he was prepared to believe her the girl in league with the conspira- tors, A half-hour’s search of the crowded resorts, where music of good, bad and indifferent quality kept up a constant aad aggravating din, that | would bave put to flight the craziest enthusiast, then, and only then, Dick found Lillian, She was seated in a retired corner of one of the | least patronized music pavilions, in conversa- tion with—Jack Flack! Dick stopped as if shot when he saw her; then he changed his position so that he could watch her without being noticed himself. She was attired in a pretty suit of summer silk, with a bunch of tea-roses at her throat, and the fine head capped with a jaunty sun hat. A strange contrast she made to stiff-laced | Nola, whom Dick at once decided was the girl in the barouche. Lillian’s face now was not a merry one, as she conversed with Jack Flack. Her features wore a pained, half-frightened expression, and her lip quivered when she essayed to speak, but in- variably left the sentence unfinished; for Jack Flack was there to do the talking, it would seem, ' and would admit of no argument or protest. **T wonder what that bull-neck brute is say- ing to her?’ Dick mused, his brow darkening. ‘* What he is saying is not pleasant, that’s pli ‘in, for she seems to fear him. I’vea notion to go over and drive bim away!” On second thought, however, he refrained. He would wait until Flack had left Lillian, and then endeavor to draw from her the nature of their conversation. He had not long to v ait. After smiting the table, emphatically, with his fist, Flack arose, and strutted away, while Lillian buried her face in her pocket-handker- chief, and remained where she was. Dick waited until Flack bad disappeared, and then went over and took the scat the rough had just vacated, “* Miss Braddock, you look as if you were in trouble,” he spoke, in a low tone. Lillian looked up with a start, ‘““Why, Mr. Bristol!” she gasped, drying her eyes, ** Of course,” he calmly replied. ‘I saw Jack Flack worrying you, and I’ve made it my busi- ness to inquire into the cause.” ‘*Oh! I cannot tell you, Mr. Bristol. Ill ad- mit that I am in trouble—such trouble as J never dreamed of, before to-day. But, it is nothing you can alleviate, You are very kind, but do ® fe > 4B ‘Yes, Mr, Bristol, he did. But I cannot fathom zi how you should kno is!” . ‘-. ae ) “You shall know Inde time Now, what was Flack’s demand—how were you to pay him — money?” o of ** You know I work fo 3 i ay | y uncle, and receive twenty dollars a week for my services?” “ce 7 ell?” hed b Do you think Mrs, _ t you—and Nola, Dick was silent a moment; then he said: ** You need haptig, acy g> Flack or the other Your innocence in the plot is already evident t me, and that means more than you may pose, I already know who are the guilty ones and you need have no further apprehensions, i! you will let me direct you.” ’ “Mr. Bristol, there is no need of questing that. You have proven yourself to be a gentle- man and a man of honor. such as I believed you to be, at first sight. Whatever you direct in this hour of trouble I will cheerfully comply - with. Only, I would not like—” ‘* This to get to Mr, Westlake’s hearing?” She blushed prettily, but remained silent. _ *T understand,” Dick went on, “and if my good will and wishes are of any moment, they will be with you two, ever. He is worthy of you, and you of him; so be of good cheer, iw, Mr. Braddock will be bere soon, and I shall take “Tam acquainted with Mrs, Schieffler, and | you before him, and introduce you in anew /
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Deadwood Dick Jr, at Coney Island. “Very well. I need not inquire further at light. I have been ‘ forbidden to say to you what I wish to.say. If you can keep a secret, I present, Your answers have been satisfactory, will give you one that may cheer Pg even more and the only thing I want now is to keep out of than what I have yet told you. father ‘Alas! Ido not know. Mamma has forbid- ; den me to mention him, because she said it grieved her to the very soul to think of the past.” 4 ‘* You have never had any intimation whether he is Ales y or dead?” “ No. have been kept in utter ignorance of my birth, as if it wero a disgraceful thing to speak of. I have never questioned my mother’s discretion in letting my past and hers rest in oblivion, simply because she has been a dear, good mother to me, and slaved to make some. thing of me, until she has broken her health, and Tam now her sole support.” ** Poor woman!”.Dick said, balf-aloud. aloud he added: ‘I guess I will ing anything more concerning this matter, Bet- ter leave it to your mother to explain, and save you the shock of being told by a stranger,” ““No! no! no!” Lillian cried, hastily, ‘1 would rather you would tell me. For vears I have longed to know my past—my parentage, but have been denied. ‘ You will know all one _ day, child,’ mother has said; but it has been poor satisfaction, I have never, in my humble way, bad the courage to regard haybeit as any- body. I wonder sometimes I have ever had the audacity to receive any attentions from the man I love—Mr. Westlake, Be I even of unacknowl- edged parentage, Mr, Bristol, tell me, for I can bear the shame rather than the suspense that has thus far followed me through life like a hauating phantom,” _“‘ Promise me to keep sacred what I reveal, and you shall know all,” ‘“*T promise, Mr. Bristol.” ‘* Very well. I do not doubt but what you will keep your word, Your father is Trumbull Braddock!” ye a ‘What! Mr. Bristol, you do not mean it?” “Tdo, He told meso with his own lips, But listen: I have gone so far, you may as well know the rest,” He then told her, briefly and to the point, what Trumbull Braddock had revealed to him. . Lillian listened eagerly—drank in every word vith painful solicitude. When he had finished, she did not betray the emotion he had,expected, “Thank God!” she said, “ that it is no worse!” “‘ Of what relation have you been led to sup- pose you were to Flack?” ‘3 ‘He my stop agebery gl yay snotber child Yy @ previo r e always borne my cbnanet erent I nate work Then for Mr. Braddock; then ma told me that I must go to uncle, and he would give me employ- ment, and that my name was Braddock.” ‘How have you been treated by the present Mrs. Braddock?” % **Shamefully, although she and her children took good care to treat me with kindness in the presence of Mr, Braddock. It was a matter ; ek uederstood between us, I think, that we _ hated each other, I never gave them an inch of opportunity for hostility, as I thought, but they managed to make it decidedly unpleasant for me?) Ae : * doubt about that. Miss Braddock, where does your mother live? Matters may sbape themselves in her favor, and if so, I shall have occasion to call upon her,” *‘My mother would not want to be brought into this strange affair. She is in very poor health, and the trouble would injure her.” _ “There will be no trouble that she will be con- erned in. In other words, I hope to be able to rove that Theodora Braddock has no legal n upon your father. In which case I am dent Mr, Braddock will gladly return to & first love, and even though he may uot be le to take her back as his wife while Flack ives, she will be well provided for,” “Mother would not accept a cent of Mr. Braddock’s money, except I had worked for it,” Lillian. declared, ‘with spirit, ‘However, I don’t know that there can be any harm of my telling you mother’s address, since you have been so kind to me, She lives at number —, Eighth street, New York. She has an attic room, and lives under the name of Mrs, Hoon, She is an invalid, and seldom leaves the house,” ** Does Flack live there?” ; “No. He has not seen mother for a year— ‘does not know where she is, I have sheltered and protected her from his violence, even at the cost of being beaten myself, I bave had to avoid going to mother for weeks at a time, be- lieving that he was shadowing me.” ‘ postpone say- | 7 RSG cen RRon eee ee Se ee > na here is your | Flack’s sight, until I can nail him, aud prevent him from bothering any one any more. You say you know the landlady of this place?” ot es, “Then make arrangements to stay here for the present, and I will call for you when you are wanted, vs. out of sight of chance guests as much as possible, and don’t worry yourself in the least,’ : “How long will I have to stay, Mr. Bristol? You know I cannot well afford to lose my em- ployment,” “Certainly not, I will arrange for all that with your father. If you need any money, I will arrange that also.” ‘No, thanks, I have sufficient for the present, but, you know, I have come down with Mr. Westlake and Sadie Sands, and I fear they will be very much worried if they donot find me,” **Oh, that will be all richt! I will see West- lake, very likely, and make any necessary ex- planation. In the mean time you can make | your arrangements here, and I will call on you ; a8 soon as matters have assumed a definite , shape.’ And so they parted. Lillian secured accommodations at the hotel, and Dick returned to the busy part of West Brighton, to watch the ocean, and deliberate upon his next course of action, CHAPTER X. VOICES. IN THE BACK ROOM. Ir was somewhat after six o'clock that even- ing, after taking a dip in the surf, that Dick left Doyle’s bathing palace, with an idea of walking along the Concourse, as far as the Brighton Beach Hotel, The gay equipages were flitting to and fro on Boulevard and Concourse, and he thought that possibly he might see the Cayvan equi- page among them, Nor was be disappointed in this. He had gone but a little. way up the Coa- course, when be saw a team of runaway horses, attached to a phaeton, wheels uddenly out of the Bculevard, and come tearing toward him. Tbey were running at full speed, despite the driver’s efforts to check their mad career, and injary and death to occupants of other vehicles then upon the Concourse was imminent. The driver, whom Dick recognized as him of the Cayvan turnout—the count himself—ap- peared utterly paralyzed with terror, There was no time for deliberation. A wo- man and child were crossing the Concourse, within a few yards of the coming team, the phaeton was careening from side to side, threat- ening to spill out it’s occupants at any instant, The many other pedestrians who were cross- ing the drive, set up a screeching, and scattered in every direction, It took but an instant for Dick to comprehend the deadly peril of the woman and child before referred to, and, without waiting to think of the consequences to himself, he dashed out into the thoroughfare, to check the runaways, and, though they rushed upon him with maddening speed, he grasped them firmly by the bits, but not until they had dragged him nearly a block, did he succeed in bringing them to a stand- still, without any particular damage to himself, The moment the team halted, Count Cayvan sprung off the driver’s seat, and approached the detective with extended hand. ‘* By Heaven, young man, you are one hero!” he cried, and you shall have my lifetime grati- tude for your brave act. Whom honor of addressing, pray, for I more of one who would so risk h save that of others,” “You may call me Richards,” Dick replied; 1 7 “but I must decline to be called a hero for stopping your horses, as it was but what any man would have undertaken under the circum- stances,” ‘* Nonsense! Why I'll wager there’s not an- other man along the Concourse who would have run the risk you did—not even a policeman, So come, now, jump into the phaeton and I'll drive you out to Elkmere, my country place, and we will lunch together, and crack a bottle of old Madeira, while you tell me of yourself, Any man as brave as you must surely have an inter- esting history.” “I never speak of myself,” Dick demurred, and so you really will have to excuse me,” ** Not mnch, I won’t! You shall lunch with me at any rate, and I will drive you back here in the ceol of the evening. I shall. be alone this evening, my wife aad children having gone to e oF 4oee EL Manhattan Beach, so there is nothing in the world to hinder you.” ae Now, Dick really wished to accept the invita- tion, for he had no doubt but what it would be the means of his making some new disvoveries; so, as he was not likely to encounter Nola or Vanderbilt Braddock, be finally consented to accompany the count. , They entered the phaeton and drove briskly along the Boulevard countryward, The runaways were by this time thoroughly uieted down, and there was no more imme- diate trouble to be feared from them, unless they should again take fright. The Boulevard was crowded with pleasure vehicles of ,all descriptions, and there were nu- merous ladies and gentlemen on horseback. All was life and gayety incarnate to the ex- terior view, but Dick wondered bow many of them held dead secrets under all this smiling, or had grim skeletons locked up in their family closets, Count Cayvan was quite chatty as they spun along, but refrained from saying anything in particular concerning biniself. He pointed out the houses and other objects of interest, as they passed, and nodded occasionally to men he met. It was quite dusk when they arrived at Blk- mere. It was a substantial country villa, situated upon a branch road running northward from the Boulevard. E There was nothing strikingly pretentious about it. It was but one of hundreds of pretty resi- dences scattered over the length and breadth of Long Island. The horses were fastened to a hitching-post outside the spacious lawn and then Dick was con- ducted into the parlor, and given a seat, Count Cayvan excusing himself Jong enough to pre- pare the lunch, for he said, apologetically: ““When I invite any one to break fast with me, I always look after the preparation of the lunch, personally.” f Of course Dick excused him, and was then left to himself, The parlor, as in most country houses, was in the extreme front, and connected with a rear parlor by folding-doors, which were usually kept closed, evidently, for a sofa occupied a place be- fore them on the parlor side, ri The dining-room, kitchen, and so forth, were disconnected from the two parlors by a spacious hallway, that ran the full length of the house. The parlor Into which Dick had been conduct- ed was well but not extravagantly furnished, and, after a few glances about it, the visitor came to the conclusion that there was nothing there of interest to him. | He was mistaken, however, a The sofa by the folding-doors directly attract- ed his attention, and he approached it. | © It was an antique affair, very heavy and cum= bersome. Jt had evidently been built a century’ ~ or more ago, in times when more timber was put in a set of furniture than isrequired tomake ___ two sets nowadays, me It was while he was examining this piece o furniture that Dick’s attention was voices in the adjoining room— 0a voices, too, aaah © iad “T say I cannot, and will not!” a woman’s voice cried, ‘ lve stood this sort of thing until I can stand it no longer!” “How are you going to help yourself?” the coarse, sneering voice of a man demanded. ‘You've got no alternative. as I kin see, my fair sister! You’re completely hemmed in, on both sides, and turn which way you will, you're bound to run into the grasp of the law, And once you get into it, how are you to get out?” can at least end my own life!” the woman peters - “‘and that would be better than rsecution.” ution be blowed! I am not persecut- ing you. I caught you in a crime, by which you are realizin y, and demanded my share!” ** You've your share, and more than your share!” a “Can’t help that. I want more. Money should always be made while the sun shines, and I'm in for making my pile, now.” i ‘Jack, I tell you I bave no more mone: @ a gave you the very last I had this morning.” _~ “Git out! When I arrived here, a bit ago, ou were about startin’ for Manhattan Beach! Voure not one o’ the kind to ge there broke, where one can’t look cross-eyed short o’a fiver!” ‘‘ { tell you I haven’t any money, Jack.” . “Go Squeeze the count, then, e’s got lots of oodle, ‘*Not for the world would I ask my husband for money. Besides, he is not here, He started off for West Brighton, before you came,” and angry racted by |
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i2 -Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. “That makes no difference, You know where But, somehow, he did not fully enjoy it, for it he keeps his money.” kept occurring to him that he wasreally partak- “ He always carries with him what he bas, ex- | ing of the count’s hospitality more as a detective cept what he keeps in a bank.” and spy than as a guest. ** Ab! he does, hey? Well, a man who puts on There was one thing, however, that gave him the lugs he does ought to carry a good-sized | some assurance—that the count knew nothing of boodle about his duds. I'll bear it in memory, | his wife’s criminal character, The words of so that if I should ever meet him, I'd ask bim | Jack Wlack seemed to imply this. after the state of his health,” The count was less chatty, during the repast, ‘Jack Flack, you are a brute and aruvffian, | than he had previously been, Although he evi- and no brother of mine. If you ever try to rob | dently tried to fill the position of bost, graciously, my busband I hope he will shoot you dead.” it was plain he did not enter joyously into the ‘On! I shall take good care not to let him get | spirit of the occasion, a chance for that, if I ever tackle him, my dear ‘¢- You own this place, I presume?” Dick said, sister. I ain’t taking so many chances of get- | as they sat conversing over the wine. ting shot, now, as 1 used to did, when I was a ‘indeed, no. Isimply leased it, with furni- free rover of the main, All my business, nowa- | ture and stud, for two months, while the owner days, is conducted strictly on a safe basis. isaway in Europe. My time is up next week; **So now, look kere. Business is business, | then, [ shall return to Europe and take my and there’s no use of dodging around the bush | family with me.” ~ any longer. I want a thousand dollars, and **T infer, then, that your family bas not been must have it to gamble with on the races, Come, } recently living with you on the other side?” now, do I have it, or not?” ‘‘No, indeed! Untila few months ago, I had s Ob, Jack, I tell you it is impossible—at least | not seen my wife, before, in twenty years! And to-night, for [have no means in my power of | more-—I never saw my children until I came to raisivg such a sum.” America,” ‘* Well, can I have it to-morrow?” ** Indeed? Why, how could that be?” **T don’t know; oh! [don't know! I will try, ‘* Well, it is rather a romantic story. but I don’t see, for the life of me, where the ‘‘T should like to hear it, if yon have no objec- money is to come from,” tions to relating it,” Dick remarked. ‘‘ Nonsense, Make out a check to me, signed ‘““Oh! Certainly not! It might seem some- and indorsed by Trumbull Braddock, and I’ve | what incredible te some, but I can vouch for the no fear but what I can get it cashed at the Sea- | truth of my story. man’s Bank, where I am known,” ‘* When I was a boy I was left a large fortune, - And get arrested for it!” both in landed estate ‘and money. As I ap- Never fear. Once 1 get hold of the sugar, | proached my majority, my father and mother Vl get well out of New York.” became very strict with me, and planned forme ‘* I dare not try the thing again!” the woman | to marry a rich countess, nearly old enough to said. ‘ Already detectives are looking for the | be my mother, I had no notion of anything of guilty ones, and I canvot imperil myself more | the sort, and the day I became my own master, than [ have done.” I married Mademoiselle Celeste De Ramza, a “Humph! It can’t matter much, You're } ballet dancer—a mere chit of a girl, yet win- sure to be nabbed sooner or later, and one more | some, loving and respectable. haul could not make much difference. If I ‘‘T kept this marriage a secret for a month; don’t get the money, I shall expose you to both | then it leaked out and there was a great scandal. Braddock and Cayvan, anyhow. So, there’s | Celeste suddenly disappeared, and report had it simply one of two alternatives—arrest and dou- | that she had eloped with a maitre de ballet, And ble disgrace, or get me the money!” about the same time, before I had had time to There was a brief silence; then the woman’s | form any plans, J found myself suddenly drafted voice said: ‘ : a: ; iuto the army and marched off to the front, ** Promise one thing faithfully, and the money | ..‘‘ Well, Iserved my time, and when J came shall be yours to-morrow night!” out of the army, I searched for my Celeste, but, * What do you want me to promise?” all tono avail. After that I wandered about “That, if 1 get you more than one thousand | the world, here, there and everywhere. The —maybe as much as two *housand—you will | Franco-Prussian war had robbed me of my leave this part of the country, and never bother | estates, but I still bad money |rft. me again, nor attempt to cause iv arrest! “T was finally arrested, in Russia, as a suspi- Now, Jack, be part of a man, anyhow, and give | cious character and packed off to Siberia, where me a& show.” I was held a prisoner until a year ago, when the ‘Two thousan’, hey! No, I reckon I don't | French interested themselves, and secured my take that. If I deal with Cayvan, I reckon | liberation, On my return to Paris, my n&me he'll give me double that to bave the matter | was mentioned in the papers, and my bride of hushed up, and keep you out o’ jail. Tell ye | twenty years before, now in America, saw it, what I'll do, though: I don’t wanter be too hard | and wrote tome. Asa result, I came to Ameri- on you, sence you're my sister; so if youl] make | ca, a matter of nine months ago, and met my it five thousand, Ill swear to leave the country, | wife in Philadelphia. and never bother you again, or betray any of “There I learned from her that she had been your secrets.” ; abducted by her own father, and spirited away xy How do I know you will keep your oath?” to this country, at the instance of my father, _ ‘* I swear by that reverence J have ever cher- | who had paid a largesum to have the thing ished for our dead mother, even villain that I | done. Since 1 came across, my wife and I have have been.” lived quietly within our means, until I took this “Very well. You had better go now. I | villa.” will meet you to-morrow night on the beach, ** Well, how about your cbildren?” half a mile below Red Leary’s old place at West ‘‘Oh! they were born, twins, shortly after my Bri bton,” wife came to America, and are being educated ind you, et won’t be best fer ye to practice | in New York. I see but little of them on this any deception!” ; account, but am very proud of them.” “Certainly not. I will meet you there, Dick was silent a few minutes—quite at a loss whether I succeed in raising all the money or | what to do, not!” Should Tien the listener in the front parlor heard io footsteps, and the voices altogether. Aud what had he not heard? By the chance of stopping a runaw e of horses, he had been enabled to obtain a_cor- roboration of all his suspicions against Theo- dora Braddock, alias Mademois eleste De sory rg alias Madame Cayvan, alias Polly Pil- grim ” go on, and expose to the count the t had been practiced upon him? e wait until he firstsaw Trumbull Bra » In truth, he hardly knew what to do. If Cayvan had faith enough to come back to his wife, after a separation of nearly twenty years, would he believe in anything that might be said against her now? It was not probable he would. So, after deliberation, Dick resolved to keep all that he had learned to himself, until he should consult with Trumbull Braddock. Perhaps the merchant would be so glad to get rid of the designing woman as not to prosecute her, but to drive her from the country. When it came nine o’clock, Dick suggested that be be driven back to West Brighton, to which the count assented, an, an hour later, they separated in front of Paul Bauer’s, the count re- turning to Elkmere. As for the detective, he had other matters to attend to yet that night. He expected Billy Bucket and Trumbull] z, ~ CHAPTER XI, THE COUNT’S ROMANCE. Ir was full half an hour later, when Count Cayvan entered the parlor where Deadwood Dick was waiting, and was directly followed by a servant, who brought i1a game, pastry and wine lunch, such as only an expert rset chef is competent to get up. We will not enter into'the ‘details of the menu, more than to say that it was such a repast as Deadwood Dick had never before sat down to. | Braddock down, probably by a late train, but, as there was no certainty about which route they would come, Dick concluded to go to Thompson’s Hotel, to there await their arrival, Thompson's is one of the oldest hotels on the island, and to reach it, from the Concourse, one has to travel a considerable distance along a walk, boarded up high on either side. It is not a very pleasant place to pass through, late at night, especially owing to its contiguity to that delectable neighborhood, ‘* The Gut,” It was after eleven o’clock when Dick finally entered the alley, en route for Thompson’s, The last trains were leaving for New York, and the scene on the beach was beginning to wane, urtll another day came, to bring a new crowd of pleasure-seekers, _ The alley was ouly faintly lighted with the rays of one smoky lamp, when Dick entered it. ‘*Egad! this isa capital trap fora fellow to , get sand-bagged and robbed in,” be muttered, grimly, involuntarily feeling in his pocket to see if bis revolver was in 1ts accustomed place. Seeing no one in front of him, however, he proceeded forward, but he bad gone only about ; half the length of the walk, when he heard a sharp cry, and an oath, a little way ahead, si Ha! trouble!” ejaculated Dick, and craving ; his revolver, he rushed forward to whereanold gentleman was in the act ef scrambling to his ch feet. “‘ Jerusalem! It’s Trumbull Braddock!” was Dick’s exclamation. ; ‘““ Yes, so it is!” growled the old man, groping . aroavd in search of his specs, ‘‘and who the deuce are you?” “* Why, I'm Bristol. What’s the matter? Did you fall?” “No!” with asniff of displeasure, ‘‘ I dropped! Some one hit mea crack with a stuffed club, and knocked me down. I reckon I’d’a’ been robbed, only my assailant must bave heard you coming and took leg bail for security.” ‘‘ Who was he—what did he look like?” ‘*T only got one glimpse of him, before he made me see stars. In that glimpse I saw that | he had an ugly scar across bis forehead.” _ “ Jack Flack, ll bet! That answers bis de- scription. Well, he’s escaped, so we might as well go back to the hotel. Where did you leave Billy Bucket?” y ‘He left me as soon as we arrived here and I haven't seen him since,” When they reached the hotel they went to the room the merchant had engaged—a very com- fortable one, looking seaward. ‘* Now, then,” Braddock said, when they were seated, ‘‘ why am I summoned here, and what’s it all about, anyhow?” “Tt means that I b found the author of your losses—the Miss Polly Pilgrim, who has . been fleecing you out of certain sums of money . lately.” | an asta ‘‘ he deuce you bave! Well, where is she?’ ‘Oh! not far off!” ‘“'Then you have arrested her?” ‘* No, not yet. I wanted tosee you personally. I thought perhaps you might wish to avoid the . scandal of an arrest!” GY ALN se ep tr “Tsee. Go on! Who is this woman? Out with it, and the full particulars. I am pre- pared to hear the worst.” ‘“ Well,” said Dick. ‘‘So far as Polly Pil- grim is concerned personally, she is a fiction, Tbe woman who has been playing you fora ten-pin is the one whom I half suspected, after my visit to your house. Her maiden name was probably Flack, as Jack Flack calls her his sister, Later on she was a ballet-dancer in Paris, where sbe married one Count Cayvan. She was separated from the count by her pa- rents, wbo brought her to America, where she? must have soon after merried you. Cayvan came to America some nire months ago, and ' since then your supposed wife has been living © with bim again as his wife. Cayvan even | thinks Nola and Vanderbilt are his children,” ‘“‘He is mistaken. They were both born over a year after my marriage with the woman, But, even admitting that whet you bave said is true, how do you make it ont that my wife is connected with the forgeries and theft?” “To give a right impressicn. let me begin at the beginning, Then you will understand.” And begin at the beginning he did, rehearsing what the merchant already knew, and addin other points; how he bad enlisted Billy Bucke in bis service, and with what success Billy bad shadowed Flack: how he, Dick, had visited Cayvan’s house, overheard what transpired be- tween Mrs, Cayvan and Flack, and afterward dined with the count, and heard his romantic story; also, other minor details already known to the reader.
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re . So “Well,” the merchant said, when Dick had finished, ‘‘ it seems that you bave succeeded in working the whole infernal thing out. You are one of ten thousand, Bristol, and you shall be paid accordingly. You believe that Count Cay- van is ignorant of the woman’s baseness?” “T do. Ido not think he suspects that she was ever married to you, vor that she has been engaged in any crooked work. However, that is only my opinion. What remains to be done it rests with you to say. If you are ready to swear out warrants for the arrest of your wife, son and daughter, why, I am ready to serve them.’ ‘‘T must have time to think. Do you think that Vanderbilt and Nola are concerned in this conspiracy ?” } “} do. Have they not known their mother was in America, and visited ber? Did they not both lie to you concerning the pawned stud? Who else in your household, could you, now, with more reason suspect, than they, of the mysterious thefts from your private office?” ‘True! true! They are as guilty as their mother. It’s a terrible disgraceful mess, all around. Before I can issue any further orders, I must see Cayvan, and talk with him. that he is sent for, in the morning.” “Very well, sir. I will now bid you good- night, and go hunt up my youthful partner.” o bidding the old gentleman good-night, Dick left the room. ; He had no difficulty in finding Billy. and to- gether they hunted up lodgings, for both were greatly fatigued. To-morrow would probably end their Coney Island detective case, CHAPTER XII. ROBBED, Dick was up at dawn, the next morning, and, after a dip in the surf, he and Billy had break- fasted at a restaurant. Almost the first person he saw, on emerging from their repast, was Count Cayvan, who was walking rapidly, and appeared greatly ex- cited. : > ‘Hello, Richards!” be cried, spying the de- tective. ‘* You’re the very one I hoped to see. Where will Iefind a police station, around these rts Pa Give it up. Haven’t seen one, yet, tho’ I resume there is some sort of a calaboose. ee the matter—want to get yourself locked up “No! I’ve been robbed—robbed of every cent I have in the world!” “The deuce you say! Sit down here, and let’s hear about it. I ama detective, and per- haps I can help you even better than the police, who are but bunglers, at the best.” They stepped into a little pavilion, and be- came seated, Cay van Latte upon his chair, weak and faint, thoroughly exhausted, from his ener tees excitement. * Yes,” he gasped, ‘‘and there is no clew to who robbed me. Last night, after leaving you, I soon retired, my wife having already returned from Manhattan Beacb. As usual, on retiring, I placed my money in a bureau drawer, and locked the drawer. I bad more on hand than usual, last night, having two days previously withdrawn wy account from the Brooklyn bank with which I had been dealing. ** When I awoke, this morning I found that I had been robbed. My bureau drawer was open and so were the shutters of my window that had closed, on retiring. Leaning against the window-sill, on the outside of the house, was the ladder i had seen used about the premises, The door of my room was not unlocked; the burglar must have entered by way of the ladder.” ‘* Where was your wife when you awoke?” “Tn bed, fast asleep.” ‘< Did she hear nothing during the night?” “Nothing whatever. A dozen burglars might enter the room without her knowledge when she is aslee “Did yes * With what result?” : “The entire household retired late, and all slept soundly. No one heard any disturbance,” ‘; How much money did you lose, sir?” ‘* Seven thousand and two hundred dollars.” “Tn what shape?” “It was in my money-belt, in denominations of ten, twenty and fifty-dollar notes.” Have ne no suspicions?” ‘No, I have not. I am utterly nonplused.” “ Just so, ger ” you question the household?” Mr. Cayvan, you took me home to Se “*T did.” ‘‘ Behind the parlor into which you took me, is another room?” te Yes. ” ‘““Who occupied that room while you were preparing lunch?” ‘“My wife; but I was not aware of it until the servant told me, just before your lunch was brought in. Then I concluded to mention notb- ing about the matter.” ** You are aware that she had company?” ‘Yes, her brother—a hangdog sort of rascal, whom I have repeatedly forbidden her to see. But, go on, sir.” ‘“Well, I overheard a conversation between your wife and this man Flack. He ssed a secret knowledge of some crooked business she has been engaged in—a sort of thing that would send her to State Prison, Unless your wife would raise him a certain sum of money at ence, he threatened to ex her both to you and to Trumbull Braddock ? ‘* Who is he?” “The American husband—thke victim of her baseness, who, for nearly a score of years, has believed her to be his wife, and with whom she has lived as her lawful husband up to nine months ago, when, as he supposed, he sent her to travel in Europe. Instead, she has been living with you, and those children you have been led to believe were yours, are, in reality, the children of Mr. Braddock, born over a year after Celeste arrived in America, or, at least after she was married to Braddock. Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. ‘*T am not prepared to believe all this!” Cay- - van declared, with decision. *‘‘ May I you have acquired all of this wonderful informa- ask where - tion? Surely not from an interview you may | have chanced to overhear between my wife and . Flack?” “No, not altogether. AsI told you, I ama de- tective. Iam vey sat by the before-mentioned Mr. Braddock io trace out the author of a num- per of swindles that have been perpetrated upon im. ‘“* After making certain investigations not ne- cessary now for me to relate, I found that Mrs, Braddock was not in Europe, but, on the con- trary, was residing in America, and by device of forgery and theft, and aided and abetted by her son and daughter, was swindling her hus- band, Mr. B., out of large sums of money. ‘\ It took me buta short time to locate her, and hence it was that when you chanced to invite me to lunch with you, I went with the firm hope of discovering something. AndI was not disap- pointed, **T found that Flack also possessed your wife’s secret, and was working her out of all the hush- money possible,” ‘<The scoundrel!” ‘* That sounds like a pet name for him. He is even worse. He and your wife wrangled about vam, a he — ned to ex her, and and her over to the law if he didn’t it.’ “Well?” ass “Well, he wanted a thousand dollars, but she hadn’t got it. He bid her to resort again to forgery, but she was afraid to. Finally they struck a bargain. By his promising never to make a further demand on her for money, she was to meet him to-night, and pay him five thousand dollars, ‘So there you see, sir, you have it all in a nut-shell,” “By the gods! You are right,” ejaculated the Frenchman, excitedly, springing to his feet, and pacing to and fro. ‘The evil genius that worked upon my boyish passions has even made a dupe of me, after twenty years. "Gad! I'll murder her, once I get hands upon her. Come! Arouse! No time must be lost. e must be arrested before she has time to escape.” ‘‘T do not think there is cause for alarm on that score. She was at Elkmere when you “ Yes.” ‘Very sorry for your loss, I suppose?” ‘** Yes, in hysterics!” ‘*T presumed so. I don’t think she will at- tempt to run away.” ‘“ Why not?” ‘* Because she will not think you could possi- bly suspect or prove anything against her, and will believe herself safer in remaining quietly with you than trying to escape.” ‘*Maybe you are right, But what is to pre- vent her immediate arrest?” “* Nothing particularly, only that Mr. Brad- dock is here, and would like to see you, before any pronounced move is made. If you two were to consult together, you could probably +9 to some understanding as to what is best 0. : oo , Dick sent alarms to Brooklyn and Bay 13 “There’s no question of ‘best’ about it!” Cayvan declared, grimly. ‘‘That woman has robbed and disgraced me, and, curse her! she shall pay the penalty of her folly tothe law! a haes I will see this Braddock. Where is e ‘¢ You will find him at Thompson’s. You bad better go and see him, and by the time you're through with your visit, I shall be in readiness to accompany you to Elkmere. I will also wire the Brooklyn police to be on the lookout for your wife in case she should have flown.” ‘All right. This Braddock understands the circumstances—?”’ ‘* Everything.” “All right. Ill meet you here im half am ur. And the the count hastened away. ais My! but his mad is up now!” chuckled 1 5 He took it far more calmly than I expect- ed!” Dick replied, lighting a cigar. “We weren't long workin’ up the case, hey, b] ‘No, thanks to you, Billy, we have not been long at it. In fact, I think it is about the quick- est case [ ever won.” ‘* And I suppose when you're through with it, e won't hev anything more fer me to do, an’ I kin go back ter blackin’ boots?” “ Not necessarily. You are old enough and smart enough to find some more lucrative em- ployment than boot shining.” ‘“Where will you be goin’?” ‘“‘That’s as uncertain as the shifting of the wind,” Dick replied. ‘I may be ir ifax a week hence, or at the South Pole.” ‘¢ Well, wharever you emigrate, I follers, pro- vidin’ I kin raise the sugar!” Mr. Bucket an- nounced, with evident earnestness. They then visited the telegraph station, and Ridge, to have a lookout for Mrs. Cayvan; after which ot returned to the pavilion, and found Trum- ri Braddock and Count Cayvan awaiting them. ‘ ‘‘ We have thoroughly discussed the situation,” the count said, ‘and decide that the arrestmust be made. But it must be done somewhat differ- ent from the ordinary way.” ‘* How do you mean?” Dick demanded. ‘Well, if we were to all go to Elkmere to- gether, my wife would naturally see us coming, and take alarm. Seeing that it was all up with her, I fear that she would baffle us.” “How?” ‘‘ By suicide. I know her so well, that I be- lieve she would prefer death to imprisonment,” ‘*T hardly agree with you there, but you ma be correct in your surmise,” Dick replied. ‘* What then, is your plan?” ‘This: I will send a messenger to her, with a. note, telling her that I have been badly injured, and directing her to come at once to Thompson’s ae On her arrival here we will confront er. ** Do you think she will come?” ‘*T haven’t a doubt of it.” ‘“‘Very well. Write out the note, and I will take it myself,” Dick said. ‘‘ Here, Billy, you go and bunt me up a saddle-horse, as quick as you can,” Billy hastened away, and, after a short delay, returned with a spirited animal, saddled, and ready for the trail. By this time the note was written, and putting itin his pocket, Dick vaulted into the saddle, bade his friends guod-by, and galloped away. More than one admiring glance was sent after the young man, for few Eastern horsemen could ride with the grace and ease of this Prince of the West, and certain it is that no one liked a horseback ride more than he. Reared in the saddle, as he literally had been, his keen sense of love for the chase came natural. ‘CHAPTER XIIL A DECIDED WIND-UP, THE Boulevard that leads from Coney Island to Brooklyn, is a fine one, dotted on either side with imposing residences and magnificent es- tates, and is certainly a delightful stretch for an early morning ride, Dick allowed bis horse to take an easy canter, while he drank in of the beautiful scenes that flitted by him, He was an ardent admirer of nature, both in its wild Western type and in its Eastern pic- turesqueness. He liked the fields, the hills, the trees, the silvery streams, one and all, It was not until he had turned from the noble
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2 See, 14 drive, into the country road that led to Elk- mere, that he began to feel a sense of unrest, and accordingly spurred his horse into a swifter pace, Elkmere lay still several miles away. What if, when he should reach his destination, he should find that the game had flown? Then he should blame himself for not having hastened to Elkmere sooner. On he dashed, and eventually entered a grove, where the overhanging branches quite overshadowed the road. He had not ridden more than half-way through the timber, when he saw a puff of smoke issue from a thicket, heard a sharp re- port, and a bullet whizzed by him, uncomfort- ably close to his head. Putting spurs to bis horse he dashed on, look- back as he did so, e had not gone far when he saw a man emerge from cover, rifle in hand—none other than Jack Flack! ‘‘Hal he must know who and what I am!” Dick mused. “Either that, or he ages to kill and rob me. You wait! Mr, Flack, [ve only a short-range revolver with me now. but rt get a crack at you yet, you miserable scoun- rel! Flack did not attempt to follow the horseman, but strode off in the opposite direction, while Dick kept upon his course, and iu aue time he reached Elkmere, The house hai a very quiet appearance; nota person or sign of any one’s presence was appa- Rent: | _ 6 ‘*PIb bet» she’s vamosed!” was Dick’s worded eae} apprehension. e dismounted, hitched his horse, and hurried up the graveled waik to the house. ‘ - _ The door was supplied with an old-fashioned brass knocker, and this Dick applied with a ven- geance, Presently his summons was answered by a frowsy-headed Irish girl. . “‘T want to see your mistress immediately !” Dick said. ‘* She isn’t in, sor.” ‘‘Isn’t in? Where is she? Speak up! I have an important message for her!” ** She isn’t in, sor!” ** Where is she, confound your stu pidity!” **T don’t know, sor.” “You don’t know? Why, she was here this morning?” *“Yis, sor?” “Then, where did she go?” ‘*On a horse, sor.”’ Dick uttered an exclamation perhaps more piven forcible than polite, pug | ‘‘Get away!” he said, pushing into the house. Ve | “Pil soon find ont whether she is here or not!” He then proceeded to scour the rooms from cellar to garret, but no Mrs. Cayvan was to be found, nor any one else, for that matter, but the in vA stupid servant, ee n a dressing-bureau in one of the bed-cham- 7 6 bers, however, Dick found a letter addressed to ids Count Cayvan. This he pocketed, , ‘* When did your mistress leave?” he demand- ed of the girl. ** T don’t know, sor.” ‘* Was it last night or this morning?” ‘This morning, sor.” “* At what hour?” ** 1 don’t know, sor.” ‘“Why don’t you know? Don’t you know anything, you idiot?” ‘‘ Tdidn’t look at the clock, sor.” ‘* Did the son and daughter accompany your mistress?” ‘* No, sor.” “Where did they go?” “‘ They went to Brooklyn last noight, sor.” ‘In which way did your mistress go when she left here?” ‘“*T don’t know, sor.” ‘* Didn’t you see her ride away?” “No, sor.” ‘Why not?” ? ‘* Beca’se I was towld not to!” Bridget replied, Ag with the same stolidness of purpose to keep a ty secret, Me Seeing there was nothing more to be gained ‘ = by questioning, Dick concluded the best thing Ay, to do was to hasten back to Coney Island, and consult the two husbands of one wife* First, however, he visited the stable, and found that one of the stalls was was empty, es which seemed to corroborate the maid’s state- ry ment that the madam had taken her flight on s notte artic in, Dick spe Co % oun again, Dick sped back to Coney ah eS Island as fast_as possible, and found Braddock, Cayvan and Billy anxiously waiting for him, | | ‘Too late! The game has fled on horseback,” Dick announced, dismounting. ‘ Here is a let- ter, however. It may explain.” : He gave it to the count, who hastily tore it open and perused it. It ran as follows: * Count:—I have taken your money, and with my children, fled—no one will ever know where. I could not remain behind and bear imprisonment, so there was nothinz else for me to do but flee. I had de- ceived both you and Trumbull Braddock, and could no longer lay claim to even b faa’ clemency, and would not bring the disgrace of publicity upon you both. So, good-by. You both are too honorable men to be compromised by me, and T hope you may drop me entirely out of your memories. Good-by forever. CELESTE.”’ The count read this message first to himself, and then aloud. ‘* Great riddance to bad rubbish!” exclaimed Billy Bucket. ‘I'd let her go to Halifax ef I war you, boss!” The count smiled, grimly, at the boy’s as- sumption, “* Well,” he said, “ perhaps the lad’s advice is the most sensible ”"—turning to Mr, Braddock— “though the loss of the money temporarily ruins me,” ** Yes, let her go!” the merchant assented. ‘* We are both better off to be rid of her, and, so glad am I, that I will be only too happy to give you any temporary assistance you may need. : ‘* As for the two detectives here, Cayvan, we owe them, I consider, an everlasting debt of gratitude over and above a good round pecuni- ary compensation. And the latter, they shall have, if I have to sell out one of my mills!” “*E guess that will not be necessary,” Dick laughed, ‘If we were to charge you by the day, our combined time would not exceed a week !” ‘* True, but in that week, you have relieved Cayvan and me of acurse of years standing. Yours bas indeed been a double-quick triumph, and I shall not fail to inform Byrnes, when I see him, of the whole story. ‘‘Tam but as a drop to a gallon, compared with the inspector,” Dick replied, modestly ; ‘* buf I shall be pleased to have the chief know | that the.case he committed to me was not botched,” Little remains to be said to add tothe comple- tion of this one of many detective cases which the police never get hold of. That same day Mr. Braddock, Lillian, Count Cayvan, Dick, and Billy Bucket returned to New York, and Dick and Billy each received a substantial reward for their services. About a week latera su posed tramp was killed by a railway train in Connecticut. The description of the man, with bisscar-face, tallied so well with that of Jack, that, at the instance of Braddock, Dick went to investi- gate. The victim of the accident was indeed Flack, horribly mangled, He evidently had taken to flight in a tramp disguise and so met his doom. is death removed the barrier between Trum- bull Braddock and Margaret, Lillian’s mother, when least expected; accordingly, the merchant purchased a new home in a neighboring city where his family affairs were unknown, and there installed Lillian and her mother, A quiet divorce from the treacherous Celeste, and a remarriage to Margaret brought peace and happiness to the much-tried man and much- wronged woman, Here, before his return westward, Deadwood Dick had the'pleasure of seeing Lillian married to Walter Westlake, Pretty Sadie Sands has made a new “ mash” on the count, whom Mr. Braddock has taken into his employ, as foreign correspondent, and there’s no telling what may be the outcome, Having satisfied his appetite for seaside recre- ation, Deadwood Dick once more turned his face westward, with Leadville his objective des- tination. And Billy Bucket? The gamin went with Dick—a gamin no longer, but an embryo ‘*chief,” in his own fond dreams. Dick’s advice for him to go to school Billy positively declined to accept. Where his “boss” went there he would follow! To which decision Dick smilingly assented. THE END. Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. A a IR ra EB ti a eo Re Beadle’s Dime Library. BY EDWARD WILLETT. 129 Mississippi Mose; or, a Strong Man’s Sacrifice, 209 Buck Farley, the Bonanza Prince. 222 Bill the Blizzard; or, Red Jack’s Crime. 248 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp, 274 Flush Fred, the Mississippi Sport. 289 Flush Fred’s Full Hand. | 298 L. gzer Lem; or, Life in the Pine Woods, | 308 Hemlock Hank, Tough and True, 315 Flush Fred’s Double; or, The Squatters’ 827 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective, 337 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp, 348 Dan Dillon, King of Crosscut. 368 The Canyon King; or, a Price on his Head. 483 Flush Fred, the River Sharp. BY SAM S. HALL—* Buckskin Sam, 3 Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Shot. 90 Wild Will, the Mad Ranchero. 178 Dark Dashwood, the Desperate, 186 The Black Bravo; or, The Tonkawa y’s pte + = 191 The Terriblo Tonkaway; or, Old Rocky and hig Pards, 195 br x Star Gambler; or, The Magnolias al 199 Diamond Dick, the Dandy from Denver. 204 Big Foot Wallace, the King of the Lariat. 212 Tie Brazos Tigers: or, The Minute Men. 217 The Serpent of #1 Paso; or. Frontier Frank. 221 Desperate Duke, the Guadaloupe “ Galoot.’ 225 Rocky Mountain Al; or, The \W aif of the Range, 239 The Terrible Trio; or, The Angel of the Army. 244 Merciless Mart, the Man Tiger of Missouri, 250 The Rough Riders: or, Sharp Eye the Scourge, 256 Double Dan the Dastard; or, The Pirates, 264 The Crooked Three. 269 The Bayou Bravo; or, The Terrible Trail. 273 Mountain Mose. the Gorge Outlaw. 282 The Merciless Marauders; or, Carl’s Revenge, 287 Dandy Dave and his Hors. White Stocking, 293 Stampede Steve: or, The Doom of the Double ace, 801 Bowlder Bill; or, The Man from Taos, 809 Raybold, the Rattling Ranger. 322 Th~ Crimson Coyotes; or Nita the Nemesis. 328 King Kent; or, The Bandits of the Bason. 342 Blanco Bill, the Mustang Monareb. 358 The Prince of Pan Out. 371 Gold Buttons; or, The Up Range Pards. 511 Paint Pete, the Prairie Patrol. BY NED BUNTLINE, 14 Thayendanegea, the Scourge; or,The War-Eagle, 16 The Waite Wizard; or, ‘The Semitole Prophet. 18 The Sea Bandit; or; T’ e Queen of the Isle, 23 The Red Warrior; or. The Comanche Lover, 61 Captain Seawaif, the Privateer, 111 The Smuggler Captain: or, The Ski pper’s Crime, 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idict Spy. 270 Andros the Rover; or, The Pirate’s Daughter, 361 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. BY GUSTAVE AIMARD. 15 The Tiger Slayer; or. Eagle Heart to the Rescue, 19 Red Cedar, the Prairie Outlaw. 20 The Bandit at Bay: or, The Prairie Pirates. 21 ‘he Trapper’s Daughter; er, The Outlaw’s 24 Prairie Flower. 62 Loyal Heart: or, The Trappers of Arkansas, 149 The Border Rifles. A Tale of the Texan War, 151 The Freebooters. A Story of the Texan War. 153 The White Sealper. & i MISCELLANEOUS, 6 Wildcat Bob. By Edward L. Wheeler, 9 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. hina 10 Vidoeg, the French Police Spy. By himself, 11 Midshipman Easy. By Captain Maryatt. 82 B’hoys of Yale: or, The Scrapes of Collegians, 60 Wide Awake, the Robber King, By_F. Dumont, 63 The Fighting Trapper. By Capt. J. F.C, Adams, 76 The Queen’s Musketeers, © By George Albany. 78 The Mysterious Spy. By Arthur M. Grainger, 102 The Masked Band By George L. Aiken. 110 The Silent Rifleman. ‘By H. W. Herbert. 125 The Blacksmith Outlaw. By H. Ainsworth, 133 Rody the Rover. By William Carleton, 140 The Three Spaniards. By Geo. Walker 144 The Hunchback of Notre Dame. By Victor Hugo, 146 The Docto: Detective. By George Lemuel, 152 Captain Ironnerve, the Counterfeiter Chief, 158 The Doomed Dozen, By Dr. Frank Powell. 166 Owlet, the Robber Prince. By 8 R. Urban. 179 Conrad, the Convict. By Prof. Gildersleeve, 190 The Three Guardsmen. By Alexandr Dumas, 261 Black Sam, the Prairie Thunderbolt. By Col. League, ae Quaker City Detective. By C, Morris. e rr the Society Detective, By Weldon » Cobb, 353 Bart Brennan; or, The King of Straight Flush, By John Cuthbert. 366 ba, Telegraph Detective. By George Henry orse. 410 Sarah Brown, Detective. By K, F. Hill. ‘ 500 The True-Heart Pards. By Dr. Noel Dunbar. A new issue every Wednesday, Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cent per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street New York, . ee Kem fle
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Seompel B64 Snap-Shot, the Boy os, : : t a? mt BEADLE'’S« H ALF: JIME« | IBRARY. | Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Comp lete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY PHILIP 8S. WARNE. 67 Patent-Leather Joe; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charmer. 175 Uapvain Arizona; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Big Game. 198 Captain Mask; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. 219 Despard, the Duellat; or, The Mountain Vempires. 888 A Tough Boy; or, The Dwart’s Revenge. 368 Little Tornado; or, The Outcasts of the Glen. B78 Little Jingo; or, the Queer Pard. S88 Little 5 4 apes or, Caught in His Own Trap, 401 Little Shoo-Fly ; or, A Race fora Ranch. 408 Little Leather- Breeches; or, Old Jumbo’s Curae. 481 Little Ah Sing or, The Curse of Blood. 451 Colorado Kate. A Tale of the olines. 480 Three Jolly Parda, 517 Jim Gladden’s Deputy. 527 The Jolly Pards to the Reacue. 547 Sandy Andy; or, A Good Man Down. 556 Lariat Lil; or, The Cast for a Life. 574 Old Weusel-top, the Man with the Dogs. BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER, 15 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Page; or, The Doge’s Daughter. 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. 150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of the Chaco. 154 The Sword Hunters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders, 159 The Lost Captain; or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cruise to the Open Polar Sea. 200 The Boy Bedoutns; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance, 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Romer, the Animal King; or, The Round the Werld Wanderer. 265 The Tiger Tamer; or, The League of the Jungle. 881 Black Nick, the Demon Rider. B95 California Joe’s War Trall. BY BUCKSKIN SAM (Major Sam. 8. Hall.) 284 Old Rocky’s ** Boyees;” or, Benito, the Young Horse- Breaker. 246 Giant George; or, The Ang’! of the Range. 275 Arizona Jack; or, Giant George’s Pard. 297 The Tarantula of Tavr; or, Giant George’s Revenge. 807 The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben’s Death Hunt. 818 Ker-whoop, Ker-whoo; or, The Tarantula of Tass, 827 Creeping Cat, the Caddo; or, The Red and White Pards. 382 Frio re g or, The Tonkaway’s Trust, 44 The Fighting Trio; or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway. B49 Wild Wolfs; or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front, a7 The Ranch Raiders; or, The Siege of Fort Purgatory. Ranger. 87d Chiota, the Creek; or, The Three Thunderbolts. $81 Bandera Bill; or. Frio Frank to the Front, 292 Romeo and the Reds: or, The Beleaguered Ranch. 404 Little Lariat; or, Pecan Pete’s Big Rampage. 414 The Dalay from Denver. 427 The Three Trallers; or, Old Rocky on the Rampage, 442 Bluff Bill; or, The Lynx of the Leona. 455 Little Lone Star; or, The Belle of the Cibolo, BY EDWARD WILLETT. 167 Asa Scott, the Stermboat Boy, 199 Featherweight the Boy Champion of the Muskingum, 228 Ozark Alf; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws, 282 The Typo Detective; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp. 295 Feurless Phil; or, The King of Quartzville. | “SL The Roving pert: or, The Pride of Chuckaluck Camp, $22 Nemo, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon's Veudetta. 840 Clip the Contortionist; or, Tha Montana Vigilantes. BY J. C. COWDRICK. 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. B69 Shasta, the Gold King; or, For Seven Years Dead. 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Name. 424 Cibuta Johny or, Red-Hot Times at An ‘ 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout, pay 235 meee Ban. the Daisy Dude, ~ roadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 506 Redlight Ralph, the Prince of the Road. 514 Broadway Billy’s Boodle. 524 The Engineer Detective 58% Broadway Billy's ¢ Ditikilty.” 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 557 Broadway Billy’« Peath Racket. 571 Air-Line Luke, the Young Engineer. - BY JO PIERCE. 897 Tob™e“the Bowery ; or, The Prince of Mulberry Streets 415 The Vagabond Detective; or, Bowery Bob’s Boom, 452 Hotspur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective. 460 The Lawyer’s Shadow; or, Luke’s Legacy. 472 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective. 504 Five Points Phil. 509 Jack Jaggers, the Butcher Boy, Detective. 516 Tartar Tim; or, Five Points Phil’s Menagerie, 526 North River N at, the Pier Detective. 588 Wrestling Rex, the Pride of the Sixth Ward, 541 Jeff Flicker. the Stable Boy Detective. $51 Nick Nettle, the Boy Shadow. 559 Harlem Jack, the Office Boy Detective. 569 Brooklyn Ben, the On-His-Own-Hook Detective, BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 256 Young Kentuck; or, The Red Lasso. 270 Blizzard Ben; or, The Riot at Keno Camp. 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, 8 Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chiefs V. 4 13F ane tase Pirates or, poe Langue of Devils Island. and or, wd le 289 The Gold-secker Guide; “or, The Lent Mosetaie. BY MAJOR HENRY B. STODDARD, Ex-8cout.Y 806 Neck-Tie Ned; or, The Dug-Ont Pards, 346 Rapier Raphael; or, The Swordsmen of Zacatecas. B91 Kid-Glove Kit, the Dandy of the Rockies. 898 Kid-Glove Kit and Pard; or, The Gold King. 406 The Mad Man-Hunter; or, The Mystery of Golden Gulch. 505 Powell's Pard; or, The One-Armed Giant, BY BRACEBRIDGE NEMYNG, 8 1 Jt . The Pet of the Family. ot The Onptatn of the Club; or. The Rival Athletes, 101 Jack Harkaway in New York. BY MARRY 8T. GEORGE. ok d, the Ranger. a4 Heaceting Ral “ 3 Reet niguibawks 3 Kentucky, 59 r, Pandy Eliia’s Scalp. 108 ony eal The Trail of the Border Wolf. 166 Hickory Harr or, The Trapper-Brigade’s Spy, 1%2 Thunderbolt amas or, the Wolf-Herder. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Girl. 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. 79 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 248 Joe Buck of Angela aan Hia« Boy Pard. 47 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham, 458 New England Nick}; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling. 464 Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince, 98 Taos Ted, toe Arizonn Sport. 510 Cool Colorado, the Hal!-Breed Detective. 518 Cool Colorado in New York. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE. 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas. 90 ‘The Drend Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Tuos; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel. 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom. 181 The Golden Hand; or, Dandy Rock to the Rescue. 164 Dandy Rock’s Pledge ; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The tiaunted Maid of Taos. BY CAPT. J. F. ©. ADAMS. 84 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whiffles’s Boy Spy. 46 Glassa-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. 54 Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. 56 Nick Whiffles’« Pet; or, Ir The Valley of Death, 60 The White Indian; or, The Scovt of the Yellowstone, 70 Old Zip’« Cabin; or, The Greenhorn in the Woods, 81 Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Prairie. 85 Buck Buckram } or, Bess, the Female Trapper, 247 Old Grizzly and His Pets; or, The Wild Huntress, 251 Light-house Lige; or, Osceola, the Firebrand. 257 The Loat Hunters; or, The Underground Camp. 288 The Sealp King: or, The Human Thunderpolt. BY ROGER STARBUCK. 25 The Boy Captain; or, The Pirate’s Daughter. 114 The Black Schooner; or, Jib Junk, the Old Tar. 259 The Golden Harpoon 3 or, Lost Among the Floes, 20 i ag ena a Skinflint, the Death-Shadew. ae: « Horn Ike, the Ill Tramp; or, The Odd Pards, 861 The Phantom Light-houne. fy 870 Breaker Len, the Reef-Runner. BY WILLIAM ?. EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank ; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards. BY COLONEL DELLE SARA, 108 The Lion of the Sea; or, The Vailed Lady. 186 Cool Desmond ; or, The Gambler's Big Game BY JAMES L. BOWEN 107 One-Eyed Sim: or, The Abandoned Forest Hamé. 110 The Black Steed of the Pratgles. A Stofy of Texas. BY ©. DUNNING CLARK. 185 Captain Paul; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. 280 The Yankee Rajah; or, The Fate of the Black Shereef. BY GEORGE C. JENKS, 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown. 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 The Demon Doctor. BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR, U. 8. A. 191 ax neve Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker; oz, The Doomed hirteen. 194 Buffalo Bill’s Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. BY OCMHARLES E. LASALLE, 50 Burt Bunker, the Trapper. 52 The White Buffalo. A Tale of the Northwest BY JOHN J. MARSHALL. 40 Roving Ben. A Story of a Young American. 97 The Outlaw Brothers; or, The Captive of the Harpes. BY WM. G, PATTEN. 489 The Diamond Sport: or, The Double Face of Bed Rock 519 Captain Mystery ; or, Five in One. 581 Daisy Dare the Sport from Denver, BY MAJOR E, L. 8ST. VRAIN, 292 Sanche Pedro, the Boy Bandit. 801 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. 888 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 852 Tombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “Sand.” 859 Duranre Dave, the Y ung ‘aan won Wrestle. 871 Kingbolt Chria, the Young Hard-Shell Detective. 880 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountain Mail-Line. BY EDWARD 8. ELLIS, 6 Bill stddon, Seppe, 8 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier, 10 Nat Todd} or, The Fate of the Sloux Captive. re The Frontier Angel. 82 be The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island, The lHunted Hunter; or, The Strange Horseman. The Haif- Blood; or, The Panther of the Plains, he Muge Hunter; or, The Steain Prairle Man. 1 254 271 T cl BY MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON, 278 The Three Tra ray or, The Mountoin Monster. 288 Indian Joe; or he White Spirit of the Hills. BY FRANK DUMONT. 120 The Branded Hand , The Man of M * 187 Wild-Fire, the Bowe 2! the Rona oy ere ue Blazes; or, The ? Boys of “hs 171 Ebony Dan; My The Rival pple ag ‘Avpoy whe 185 Evil Eye; or, The Vultures of the Rio Grande, — SUE ——— BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, The Trappers 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat. 65 Murricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. 119 Mustang Sam; or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-ltawk Kit; or, The Daugliter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul: or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Glant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Dendly bap os or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Boy Trailers ; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path, 208 The Boy Pards; or, Dainty Lance Unmasks. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca W olf; or, The Beautiful Decoy, 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League, 885 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide. 855 The King of the Woods: or Dane! Boone’s Last Trail, 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood ; or, The Twelve Avengers. 66 Single Mandy; or, A Life for a Life, 72 Mad Tom Western, the Texan Ranger. 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop. BY JACK FARRAGUT. 815 Ned, the Cabin Boy. 820 The Sea Sorceress; or, The Boy Skipper. BY LIEUT. if. D. PERRY, U. 8. N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer of the Bay. 180 The Sea Trailer: or, A Vow Well Kept. 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point. BY HARRY HAZARD. 828 Arkansaw Jack; or, The Scourge of the Mines. 829 Red-Skin Tom; or, The Demon’s Trail, $42 The Mountain Devil; or, Yellow Jack, the Outlaw. BY COL. A. F. HOLT. 899 Black Buckskin: or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon. 419 Kenneth, the Knife-King. ge 485 Little Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods. BY J. W. OSBON. ‘ 469 The Rival Giants of No rs 498 Cactus Burr, the Man from Mard Lack. 587 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. 564 Powder Phil, the Boy Miner. BY FREDERICK DEWEY. 818 Cimarron Jack, the hing-Pin of Rifle-Shots. 478 Tangemund, the Desert Detective. 542 The Canyon Parda. BY ARTHUR C. GRISSOM. Little Foxfoot, the Gold Bowie Kid. 440 558 The Sure-Shot Pards, BY LIEUT. A. RSTMS. 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock, 568 The Dandy of Dodge. 576 The Silver Sport. MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS, 4 The Wild-Horse Munters, By Capt. Mayne Reld and ° Nps! Segoe 5 ui; . Adventures of Baron inchausen, 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By fean swift. 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Illustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor, His Seven Voyages. 22 7ae Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan ue wis, 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees. By S. W. Pierce. : 86 Pe Boy Clown; or, The Queen ofthe Arena. By Frank nn 88 Ned Wylde. the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. 51 ane Boy Riffes; or, The Underground Camp, By Archie . trons. 95 The Rival Rovers; or, The Freebooters of the Mississippt. By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine. 98 Robin Hood, the Vutlawed Earl; or, The Merry Men of Green- wood, By Prof. Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. 112 The Mad Hunter; or, The Cave of Death. By Burton Saxe. 124 Tippy. the Texan; or, The Young Champion. By George slerpaon. 128 The Young Privateer; or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By Harry Cavendish. 148 Sharp Samy; or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy, By J. Alexander Patten. 227 Puaky Darrell, Trapper: or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- lowstone. By Edward Emerson. 261 Fergus Fearnaught the New York Boy. By George L. Aiken. 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; »%r, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. vy Ensign C. D. Warren. : 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Cliff, By Captain Comstock. 817 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lieu- tenant Alfred Thorne. 828 The Sky Ibe*ective; or, A Boy’s Fight for Life and Honor. By Maior Mickey Free. 850 Ked Ralph, the River Rovers; or, The Brother’s Re- venge. By Ned Buntline. 865 Baltimore Ben the Bootblack Detective. By A. P. Morris, 874 Gold-Dust Tom; or, Ben’s Double Match. By George H. Morse. 876 California Joe’s First Trail. By Colonel Thomas over Monstery. By F. S. Winthrop. e 418 Blily Bombuhell, the Cliff Climber. 475 The Black Ship. By John S. Warher, Comanche Dick and His Three invineibles, By Henry J. Thomas. 528 Wizard-Arm, the Dandy ee By Arthur F. Holt, 582 The Cowboy Duke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest. 552 Arlel, the Athlete. By David Druid. A New Isane Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library ts for sale by ai n tents per copy, or sent by met a receipt of six cents pee rs BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York
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| BEADLE’S+ HALF) 1ME*]IBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at tne Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. . sae edi sir L. WHEELER. BY CHARLES MORRIS, BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, s eadwood Dick Novels, 118 WII! Somers, the Boy Detective, ? The F r r ; , d sw . he Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast, r 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 122 Phil Mardy, the Boss Buy. 17 Ralph Mes, the Boy Basta un or. The Fugitive Yacht ; 20 Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick's Defiance. 126 Pleayune Petes or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 24 Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 28 Buffalo Ben} or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise. 180 Detective Dick 3 or, The Hero in Rags. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Riva] Lieutenants. : 85 Wila Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. 142 Handsome Marry, the Boothlack Detective, 75 The Boy Dnelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea- Wolf, Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 102 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier, \ . 49 Omaha Os os Deadwood Dick in Danger. 152 Black Beas, Will Wildtire’s Racer. 111 The Seu-Dovil 3 of, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 7 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 116 The Hussar Captain; or, The Hermit o! Hell Gate 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or. Calamity Jane, the Heroine. - 162 Will Wildfire in the Woods, 197 Little Grit; or, Bluic, the Stock-Tender’s Dauyhter, @ Corduroy Charlie; or, Deadwood Dick’s Last Act, 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy, 204 Gold Plume ; or, The Kid-Glove Sport, tA 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. 170 A Crump Card 3 or, Will Wildtire Wins and Loses. 216 Bison BUI, the Prince of the Reins. 104 Deadwood Dick's Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 174 Bob Rockett ; or, Mysteries of New York. 222 Grit, the brave Sports or, The Woman Trailer. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 229 Crimson Kate; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, : 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s | 188 The Hidden Hand Pou Will Wildfire’s Revenge. 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. Gulch. 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Buat Boy; or, The Smugglers. 245 Merle, the Middy 3 or, The Freelance Heir, 188 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 250 The Midshipman Wictineen¢ or, Brandt, the Buc @ 149 A Game of Gold; or, Beadwood Dick’s Big Strike. 196 Shadowed ; or, Bol’ Reckett’s Fight for Life, 264 e Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treneue 156 Deadwood Dick of Dbeadweod; or, The Picked Party. 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. Islana. F . rte 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned, ; 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, The Chase of “The Gold Dus 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivuls of the Roud. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. 201 fase Black Hills Jezebel; or, Deadwood Dick’s Ward. © Tom Tanner; or, The Binck Sheep of the Flock. 205 Deadweod Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jade's Last Ad- | 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky, venture, 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 280 Mer %F p irate’ i 217 Captain Orack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 284 ‘se Son eee 5 stche kiccuretanen 221 Sugar-Ooated Sam ¢ or, The Black Gown. 252 Dick Dashaway ; or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago, 257 Billy Blue.Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Rough« and Toughs, 262 The Young Sharps: or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail. $04 The Dead Snot Dandy ; or, Benito. the Boy Bugler 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy Double f : 268 Deadwood Dick’« Death Trall. Ft Jolly Jinv’« Job; or, The vag Detective, $14 The Mysterious Marauder} or, The Boy Bugler’s Long 809 Deadwood Dick’s Big Veal; or, The Gold Brick of | 298 The Water-HMound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. Oregon. . 805 Dashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. City. 7 Deadwood Dick’s Bucuts; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. gings. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective, 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta. | 8358 The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. 862 Deadwood Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro | 86% Wide-Awake Joe { or, A Boy of the Times. 879 larry. the Leveler; or, The Bloods of the Boulevard. y Trail, 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover; or, The Flagless Sci A B88 The dian Pilots or, The Search for Pirate ite 887 Warpath WII, the Boy Phantom. ® t 898 Seawaif, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Isodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild ¥ achtaman 3 or, The War-Clouu’s Cruise. Duncan Dare, tlhe Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy's Luck; or, Tae Corsair, 441 The Oren Picehs 5 or, AM “he Ocenn Firefly ; or Middy’s Vergeance. 446 Haphazard Harry; or, The Scape res af the Sea, 450 Wizard WII: or, The Boy Ferre. of New York, 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts, 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailer Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, tle Boy Coaster, 474 Flora; or, Wizard Wil!’s Vagabond Parad, 488 Ferrets Affont; or, Wizard Will’s Last Case. : . 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger, ai 495 Arizona Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. Ye 497 Buck Taylor, King oi the Cowboys. i 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark ard the Sea Cat. 507 The Hunted “Midshipman. / Flats. 405 Deadwood Pick in Dead City. 408 Firelly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. . 440 Deadwood Dick's Diamonds; or, The Mystery of Joan | 423 The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier. Porter. é ; 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 421 Dendwood Dick in New York; or, A “ Cute Caves” 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand, 456 Billy Brick, the Jotly Vagabond. 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. 448 Nickel-Plate Ned; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance. 479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mysiery of Krank Hearty. Sunflower Sam, o! Sbusta; er, Dexdwood Dick Jr’s Full Sunt Sen oe vane — ete and, soots, the Boy Fireman; or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, A 459 Flush Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Ronnd- | 566 The Secret service I oy Detective. : ie 465 Philo Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Racket at /iaim . 471 Bozeman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Corral. 476 Remon Harry, the Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s og Detective, 481 Moll Mystery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood. 401 i rinee Pistol, the King ‘of the West; or, Deadwood Dick r’s Compnct. ; BY. OLL COOMES, Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. The Dumb Spy. ; Antelope A be, the Boy Guide. Keen-Knilfe, the Prince of the Prairies. S 18 27 81 1 aso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border Kings or, The Secret Foe. t 496 Monte Cristo, Jr.t or, Deadwood Dick IJr’s Inheritance. ‘ 1 Belaware Dick, | " 500 Deadwood Dick's Diggings 3 or, Pr, Death-Grip’s Swoop. ¢ Young Ranger Spy. } 508 Deadwood Dick’s Deliverance, 4 Wawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Ringer. 511 The Outlawed Middy. ot 515 Beadwood Dick’s Protegee, 88 Rollo, the Boy Han er. 520 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Suacow ~ $282 Deadwood Dick’s Three: 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. ae | " 529 Doadwood Dick's dingor Ducks. Scar-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter 525 Brothers In Buckskin. i A aan J 584 Deadwood Dick's De Hunt. ., 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 580 The Buckski» Bowers. ‘ { i? 9? Deadwood Dick Jr., in Texus. f ’ 158 Eagle it, the Boy Demon. 5 ; - ; j 5 enw ek, dry the Wild West'Vidocg. IGS EAttlo ex aa, the Young Mustanger. 85 The Bue skin Rovers, | } { tr ey bedne ea 7 ay Bettle. EB hy tet ert: thes: ba t Tra 1 ner i 4 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rio, 7 ; e ° ck, dre, in Gotham 5 4 tu rrican hed tain, 1 : - ; A . ae yar bat Dead nod Pick in Haetse. a a = Free st rete ter The Seung Oatlaw Hunters. . pt genre the py of a: aN, 7 wo vk, >, In udelphia, e erculest or, The Prairie Tramps. en mney: or. The Avenging Son. } 572 Deadwood Dick; .r., in Chicago. 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. P = 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 555 The Creole Corsair. ' En yp : al - ‘ ° Wh 228 Little diire, the Young Prairie Nomad: 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower : ; Other Novels by E..L, ecler. 88 The Parson De teetive; or, The Little Ranger. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 248 The Diagulxed Gude; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, . . we a @ DeathsFacel Detective; or, Lite in New York 260 Dare-Devil Ian, the Yourg Prairie Ranger. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. a § ath-Face, Detective; or, ein New . Ping : ‘ i M tea y) Old Avalanche ; or, Wjld’Edna, the Girl Brigand, 344 pe me pelt Sony) Ne, hag snl 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 4 8 Jim Bludsoey Jr., the Boy Phenix. 800 The Sky Demon 4 or Rainbilt, the Ranger i Gk Mucktborm Hills, the Red Ute Team. $54 Whip-Klog Joey fic fay Tavchere, LATEST AND NEW ISSUES, J ‘ . ve. . ” 4 Be Heoncnud abot or Suc eu, te Role $08 Sewell capi beds Saver Ly. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner ; “7, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 422 Baby Sam, the hoy Ginnt Ur the Felbuseabiia 577 Pavement Pete, the Secret Sifter. By Jo Plero Bs 8 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 444 Little Buekakin, tne Young Prairie Centaur bh ie 2 , ew .: { 92 Canada Chet § or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Carap. 457 Wingedfoot Fred or. Old Polar Saul 4 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. By Edward L. Wheeler. Z 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs ind Angels of a Great City. 68 Tamarac. Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 579 The Chimmey Spy; or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Part: j 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Lpidemi By J. C, Cowdritk ; ‘ ie : ce nt Binet Ohne he ons i 482 Stonewall Bab, the Boy Trojan. tiie 5SO The Ontenst Cadets or, The False Detectivy. By Col. 5 Tie ffonanen WH, Mtn eae 552 Biundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. Prentiss [ugranam, i % . ATR tr I W'S ‘ ia k — Hob = Saleh oe “4 581 DeablePerve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. “2Geor, ‘ty » oO am e 'y hond- ‘ent. 7 eukKs. 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob's a re se in 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop. By T. C. Harbaugh. 08s Job. xk @ N Th Boy Spy of '76. dicks 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective, 4 The Hidden teed fae The Liisi Huser. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow, By Lieut, A. K, Sitns.. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scampa. 47 Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver, By Ed. L. Wheeler 181 fld Prank, the Buckskin Bravo, Dandy 5 inns or, The Outlawa of the Oregon Traii. . Boy F ‘ r a . ae 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. S2 Kit Hurefoot the Wood-Hawk. 585 Will Waters, the Boy Ferret. By H. Enton. Pe) Hab Rosine Eevgtre Mavacigertneme | 64 slinlene saau ine fee Bs ‘The Buckskin Avenger 19 Pe gan noozer, the Boy Sharp; or. @ Arab Detective, i] the G 3 ar, Vhite Queen, , r Ww ay 286 Apolle Bul, the Trail Tornado. 128 Kiews Ouueler the White eon 587 Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective.. By Wm. @. Patten. ‘i : & bi pony Kit, BoP Same, he por 189 eudee be neh, dr.z or, The Bey Vigilante. 588 Jack-o-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector. By Jo Pierce. Sierra Sa » Frontier Ferret. 155 G the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger. CO or, " . y 24% Slerra Same Secret or, ihe Bloody Foot inte, 169 Fornade eens val nin, Jack Sroan ied Core, 5S9 Tom on. gna Pard; or, The Dead Set at Silver City. By- ) erra Sam’s Pard3; or, The Angelo 8 ved T ~ the Boi vs a 258 Sierra Sam's hovaes 3 or, The Stolen Bride. 198 Athens onthe Que D at Fate’s Revenge. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr’s,, Decree, By E. L. Wheeler. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea- Rover. By Col, P Ingraham. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 215 Captain Bullet ; or, Little Tovknot's Crusade, 92 The Boy Pinkerton. By J, C. Cowarick. ' 281 Denver Doll's Victory. 231 Plneky Phily or. Roan, the Rei Jezebel, 592 The Boy © iy 4 Ce Copedries 355 Penver Bell's Becoy { oF, Little Bill’s Bonanza. 241 BA Braves or, The Roughs of the Rockies. 598 Keen Clem, the Rench Imp. By P, 8. Warne. } eed vee leva Garren 594 Little Lon, the Stret-Singer Detective, By T.C.Harlangh 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or. The Road Queen. 267 The Buckskin Detectly Agar é Ly e BOY A“No. Ly the Dashing Toll-Taker. SIP Old Winckpeer, The Buckskin Desperadocs. 595 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Heelzchub’s Bast. iy F. ’ he 808 ’Liza Jane, the Girl Miner; or. the Iron-Nerved Sport. a 825 Kelley, Hickey & ©o., the Detectives of Philadelphia. 880 Little Qu!ck-Shots or, The Dead Face of Daggersville. 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miver. 889 Kangaroo Kit’» Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood, 858 First-Class Fred, ‘he Gent from Gopher. 865 7 ons dim, the Gold-Gatherer; or, The Lottery of 8 872 Yreka Jhm’s Prize. B78 Nabob Neds; or, The Secret of Slab City. 8BS2 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance. $ & Yreka Jim’s Joker}; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, ‘ 8 294 Dynamite Pan; or, The Bowle Blade of Cochetopa. 802 The Mountain Detectives or, The Trigger Bar Bully, 816 Old Eclipse, Tramp Card of Arizona. 826 The Ten Pards; or. The Terror of Take-Notice, 886 Bie Benson? or, The Queen of the La-so. 845 Pitiless Matt; or, Red Thanderbolt’s Secret, BS Coot sam ice Var; o° The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Catl 896 Rough Reh: or, The win Champions of Blue Blazes. 411 The Silkew Lasso; or, The Rose of Ranch Robin. 418 Felix Fox tie Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump, tie Border Rattler, 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 Vhe Clty ires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. AGI One Againet bint 3 or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Roy & ¢ or, Felix Fox's Hunt. 596 Simmy the Kid; or, A Lamd Among Wolves, By Chas. Morris. ~ ey acer 597 The Young Texan Detective. By Col. P. Ingraham. BOs Flute, the Singer Detective,’ By Geo, ©. Jenks. 599 Jim Dandy, the No-Name Sport. By P. S. Warne. 600 Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. By Edward L- Wheeler. Ready January 29, 601 Happy Hansa, the Dutch Vidocg; or, Red-Hot Times at Round-Up. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. ady January 29, 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. By Col. P. Ingraham. Ready February 6. 608 Wide-Awake Bert, the Street-Steerer, By Jo, Pieree. Ready February 13. 604 fren Fern, the Mun ‘of Fire. By Lieut, Royal A. Swift- — maa3 or, | he B cenneer’s Girl Foe, 89 Bicycle Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 94 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam, 4 _ 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. pt 416 Wigh Wat Marry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabsides, the Beggar-Boy Detective. ATT The Exce ort; or, The Washington Spotter. or 4 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, ADD & S the'One-fved Sport. : . : ee 458 Santa re Sale the slasher 508 ee Scat nin te Nak Fenet. S.A. Ready February 20. , 486 Seulskin Sam, tho Sparkler. 512 Dodger Die eect Spy Detective, A’ New Issue Every Tuesday, f thy | nacae Wihheers, Ferret. ble; or, The Rival Boy Detectives. erate Case. s Vidocq. 521 Dodger Dick Bah Posed The Walf-Dime Library is for sale by all newsdenlers, ive 538 Dodger 548 Dodge cents per copy, or sent by mail on reeeipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New Veorks BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm, F. Cody). 8 Kansas King? or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. rr eadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout. Ks i : ay ae 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado ; or, The Trapper’s Trust, 8 order Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 255 Captain Apel. ane King-Pin of Bowie.