Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 649) (1889 12 31)
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A) mmm ; | mYy | : Seeley Ze U i o , \ AX i UN WR XY - - ry Perr oom TT _ Eee ‘te tal inl nt lit Tl la lal | rl @ i | | la eT ait __ Entered E°4 the Post Office at New York, N, Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. Copyright 1889, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, December 31, 1880. $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, No. 649. a Year. No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. Vol. XXV, ee ee Hi | \) “ i Py "y w “ls i ale i.e ei i oe =_— “MY B’LOVED FRIEN’, 'M ALLAYS ONTER TRAILS, I HEV A CONSTOOTIONAL INFIRMARY FER SECH THINGS, AN’ I CAN'T KEEP OUT ON’T NO MORE’N YOU KIN CHAW WAX.”
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wo ~— Gamin Bob, THE BOWERY BADGER; OR, Scooping a Slippery Set. BY JO PIERCE, [OF THE NEW YORK DETECTIVE FORCE.] CHAPTER I. THE BOY UNDER THE BOX. ‘*Heiyo! w’ot’s that I hear? A plan fur ter make money which ’spectable folkses mustn’t hear? An’ dynamite mentioned inter ther same breath? Gosh all Jew’s-harps! Pll bet my goold watch—when I git one—thet I’ve fell kerslap onter a gallus conspiracy !” The speaker was a boy, and the boy was in a strange place. On one of the piers of New York, next to the East river, a box, which looked like an aban- doned dry-goods case, was turned upside down. It had not been there a great while, for articles which can be used for firewood don’t lie around unnoticed in a city where there are so many poor people; but there it was. Under the box was a boy. He had sauntered along a little while before, and, seeing it, had turned it over and curled himself up for a ‘‘ snooze,” as he expressed it. Had he not turned it over, other boys might have disturbed his rest by making him a target, but, as it was, he “‘had the dead-wood on ’em an’ ther box onter himself,” as he thought, with a quiet smile. ut he was not destined to fall asleep. Not many minutes he been in his new lodging-house when two men came down on the pier and took position on top of the box. ‘“‘This will be as good a place as any,” said one, ‘‘ for nobody can approach us unseen.” ‘“ An’ in this a’fair we don’t want nobody ter hear our oration,” replied the other, ‘* You bet we don’t.” ‘¢ Wal, we're safe, so heave ahead, boss.” ‘* Tt’s settled that the thing is a go.” ‘¢ Good fur you.” ‘‘The goods will be shipped according to pre- vious arrangements, leaving Boston on Tues- day.’ “ An’ gittin’ ter New York—when™ ‘‘ When Gabriel blows his trumpet.” Pots men laughed, and then the second speaker added: “T never heerd that old Gabe had a contract ter raise sunken merchandise, but he could doa right smart biz ef he went inter it, an’ fishin’ in Long Island Sound orter be good.” ‘‘Justso. Well, Hank, how about the dyna- mite?” = te I tell ye I could work ther racket?” res. ‘Wal, ole hoss, I allays does ez I say, an’ kin ut up enough dynamite ter blow all ther Ronni steamers ter glory a-hossback.” It was at this point that the boy under the box made the mental observations with which this chapter began, and he proceeded to listen with new interest, : It was clear enough that some nefarious scheme was afloat, he was of a nature to be interested in all such things. ; ‘* What will you have to pay for the dynamite and the machine?” ** 4 cool five hundred dollars.” “ts Whew! We can’t afford to pay any such ‘Don’t ye expect ter make ten times that?” ‘Certainly not. Two thousand is all we can get out of it, at the most.” ‘*Ship more vallerble goods.” “‘Tt can’t be done. To go in too strong would be to give ourselves dead away. No; we can’t q Pay any such sum, and we won't. That is flat.” ank chuckled. ‘* Jest wot I told ther dynamite chaps, an’ I beat °em down from their fu’st figures ter three hundred. That’s jest ther boodle it'll take ter git ther machine, an’ you kin hev enough ter t’ar ther steamer all ter bits. But don’t it seem too mighty bad ter hev all ther money an’ goold watches ther passengers kerry go ter ther bot- tom wi’’em?” ‘Enough of that,” said the other man, has- tily, as though the tof sucha slaughter really disturbed him a little. ‘‘ Let us consider only our business. I want the money for the goods I shall pretend to ship, but don’t ship, and you want what I promised you.” es’ So. etm 4 a rt ph ee Fax, aoe Ve Poe . A aia Oo? 2 2 Sa 4 7 pe ae Re oe SEE Oe a Be Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. ‘Then the dynamite is sure?” **Sure ez sure kin be.” ‘Very well; Pll send my partner around to see you soon, and he’ll make arrangements. By the way, who is the captain of the boat which leaves Tuesday night?” ' ‘* Berkrode.” **Good! He’s an old tyrant who won't be missed by any one. I’d rather blow him up than a better man. Well, Hank, I’m off, for I have an engagement. Be careful, will you?” ‘* Bet yer ducats!” “G ~day.” *¢ So-long, boss.” There was a sound of retreating footsteps but one man remained on the box. He seeme busy, and in ashort time the odor of tobacco showed that he had lighted his ripe. Then he, too, moved away. His steps had barely ceased to sound when one side of the box was raised. A sharp, shrewd face appeared at the opening, and the bez listener looked after the man. e had planned to see the last of the plotters and “spot” him, but a large covered wagon bart driven to the edge of the pier and concealed m. me boy quickly scrambled out of his hiding- place. ‘* Mustn’t lose sight o’ that measly varmint, fur I’ve got arter a gallus scheme, an’ ef I don’t bend my walkin’-beams, a sart’in steamer will be blowed inter chaos an’ kindling-wood, b’gosh! Whar is he?” Sure enough, where was Hank? The street had suddenly become filled with one of those crowds which gather like magic in our great city, and of thirty-odd men, at least half were of the class to which the boy believed Hank belonged—rough, uneducated laboring- men. Nobody was walking away. Hank had joined the crowd. Which one was he? The boy looked, but for the life of him he could not decide. One of the oft-repeated street scenes of New York held the crowd, and there was nothing to tell which was his man. He felt keenly disappointed, though it was not in any degree his fault. Luckhad worked curi- ously against him, and under like circumstances the most skillful of detectives would have been similarly foiled. Still, the young gamin was persevering, and he hung around, listening to every voice he could catch, until the crowd broke. up. When they went his course was no clearer, and he was forced to pause and accept his defeat. He would have given much to follow Hank and learn who he was, but it was not so to be. ‘*Tt’s too rippin’ bad fur any use,” he, mut- tered, disconsolately. ‘‘ Hyar is a gallus scheme afoot, lookin’ fur ter swindle somebody big, -blow a steamer ter ther blue ether an’ back, an’, incidentally, ter smash a boat-load o’ innercent hooman-bein’s inter chaos an’ kindlin’-w0od, an’ I don’t know »who’s inter ther scheme. ‘¢ One o’ ther measly chaps is named ‘ Hank,’ but w’ot ther rest 0’ his handle is, an’ whar he hangs out, [ dunno. Ez fur t’other, he ’peared ter bea gent o’ high pedigree, but that’s all I know abouthim. ’Tain’t much o’ a clew, but ther game mustn’t be played—not fur Joseph!” The re shut one eye and looked with the other as though taking aim at the conspirators. ‘*T reckon hyar is a chance fur you, Mister Bowery Badger to hustle yerself in holing a lot o’ snakes. It won’t be ther fu’st lot you’ve cor- raled, an’ at this rate you'll soon be a full-blown detector o’ gallus conspirations. ‘“'Ther firm o’ B. Bowery, Vidocq & Co. orter take out a diploma, b’gosh!” The speaker looked like anything but a detect- In Rte of years he had just reached his six- birthday, though he hardly appeared so old. Hé@ was rather small for his age, but a careful survey would show that he was compact- ly built and unusually muscular. His face was narrow, and its expression keen and shrewd, with a merry twinkle in his eyes. It was an honest, prepossessing face, too, though not so clean as one could wish. His garments were ill-fitting and ragged, and all things went to show that he was of the poorer class, and a enuine ‘‘street Arab,” which means a good ealin New York. If there is any class that get their wits sharp- ened, it is these same street Arabs. The Bowery roms as the gamin had called himself, or mente ob, as he was known by his friends—Gamin Bob—stood for some time in deep thought., Ph 4. e had accidentally learned a secret which he knew ought to be made known to the authori- ‘ j i va " i A Si aad at ans lk ; ties at once, and he was considering how to do it. His own experience with the police had not been pleasant. His rags and his precarious face usu- ally led policemen to regard him with suspicion, and, if he went to one now, he would probably be accused of trying to ‘‘ put up a job” om them, ‘Which same bein’ ther case, I'll locomote over ter Wrixley’s office. Wrix ‘ll give me p’ints, an’ mebbe he an’ me ‘Il work up ther case in cahoots.” Wrixley was a celebrated detective, who had befriended Bob before then, and who appre- ciated him at his true value. It had been the fortune of the boy, in his life about the streets, to help unearth several villainous schemes, and he had now and then helped the detective. Ya now made his way to that gentleman’s office. He did not find his friend in, but he did find another detective, whose name was Stonerod, and whom he had met there before, when the two officers were associated on a case. Stonerod was smoking and taking life easy, but he removed his cigar as the boy entered. ‘* Hallo, young fellow! So it’s you again?” “Ef ’pearances ain’t delusive, it’s. w’ot’s left onme. I’m redooced ter a mere shadder, ez ye perceive, but w’ot’s left is twenty-seven ounces ter ther pound avo’dupus.” ‘¢How’s the peanut trade, and the stand on the Bowery? ‘“Peanuts ain’t w’ot they should be, Ther spat tween England an’ Rooshy, an’ ther cholera in Spain, hez hed a demoralizin’ an’ moralizin’ effect on ther market, an’ my pard, Stumpy, hez ter set around an’ whistle ‘Climbin’ up the Golden Bannister’ most o’ ther time. But this ain’t w’ot brung me hyar. Where’s Wrix? ‘Gono to Boston.” “* Boston, hey?” “ es, ” ‘* That’s bad.” ** How so?” ‘Kase I wanted fer ter see ther gent.” ‘“Won’t I do as well?” The Badger eyed Mr. Stonerod seriously, as though he was taking his mental measure. He did not like the man any too well, though he knew Wrixley trusted him, and he did not feel at all inclined to confide in him. ‘Wal, ef I wanted ter ’rest ther mayor, or any o’ ther city fathers, you might do, for Wrix says you're a right smart chap; but this hyar is perivate biz tween me an’ Wrix, d’ye see? ‘¢ Are you on the trail of more crookedness?” The detective showed renewed interest, but the more he moved that way, the more sharp-witted Bob felt inclined to edge away. ‘“My b’loved frien’, I’m allays onter trails. I hev a cons’tootional infirmary fur sech things, an’ I can’t keep out on’t no more’n you kin chaw wax, “Tf you have a case in hand, take me in place of Wrixley. I'll divide honors.” ‘* Divide yer uncle!” thought Bob. too red-hot ter suit me, Mr. Stonewall, you be.” Then he replied: ‘Don’t ye jump at misty chances, pard. Ef e. was a fish, ye’d git outside ther fu’st fish- ook that was tossed inter ther briny deep. Who's gota case? I ain’t said nothin’ *bout no case, Say, when d’ye expect Wrix?” tee ‘* He may come to-night,” curtly replied Stone- rod, who seemed offended. ‘An’ may not?” ** Just so.” Gamin Bob meditated fora moment. If Mr. Wrixley returaed within twenty-four hours, he would have ample time to consult him, | ‘“*Reckon I'll indite an eppisal an’ leave hyar, so he can git it when he ’rives.” ** Can you write?” ‘“My b’loved frien’, w’ot d’ye take me fur? Do I look like ez though I was brung up in ig- norance, squalor an’ infermy? S’pose I can sling ink? hy, ef Ihad a ribbon with ink on- ter it, I'd be fit fur one o’ them new-fangled pi- anners they call type-writers. Don’t ’sturb me now.” i st The boy had seated himself and was alr wielding a pen. Had Stonerod been near, he would have seen that the boy wrote a very fair hand, but he took his time for it and twisted his mouth in various ways ~s he wrote. Mr. Stonerod waiched him with curiosity — which was not so friendly as it might have been, — He knew the boy of old. , Wrixley had always represented him as a Pes culiarly shrewd young street scout, who had a tact for running upon things which a detective would be glad to take up. he would not confide in him. “ “Youre — ow, Stonerod was — almost sure that the lad had stumbled upon — something crooked, and he was chagrined that
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Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. 3 Gamin Bob finished the note, put it in an en- velope and sealed it, after which he placed it on the desk in a conspicuous position. ‘* Where now?” asked Stonerod, as he saw the gamin preparing to leave. ‘*Got an engagement wi’ ther mayor, fer ter see about buildin’the Grant monement. Him an’ me take a lunch at Delmonico’s, an’ then go ter ther opera. Do you stay hyar?” ae Yes. ” ‘“*Wal, keep up ther repertation o’ Wrix’s sanctootum. Hope ther crooks won’t git ther bulge on honest folkses while you’re off duty an’ lollin’ here fer some one to give yer a lift.” He strolled out as he finished this suggestive chara Pg leaving Mr. Stonerod looking after him sourly, ** Confound his impudent tongue, what busi- ness of his is it whether I’m on duty or off? I'd like to twist his neck; he was mightily afraid to tell me what was on the hooks. Ill bet he has found a chance for detective work. I'd give a dollar to know what's in that letter!” CHAPTER II, THE UNROMANTIC REALITY OF A POOR YOUNG MAN. THE Bowery Badger left the detective’s office and walked thoughtfully northward. Hismind naturally still ran on the subject which had taken him to Wrixley’s, and he felt far from satisfied. ‘This ’ere delay ain’t w’ot I hanker fur. There’s a gallus scheme afoot, an’ it orter be set down on like a fat woman on a basket 0’ aigs, an’ now Wrix ain’t around. It’s true that he kin pervent ther steamboat bein’ blown ter Ju- iter jest by hoppin’ on ther craft when she sae tother eend o’ ther rowt; an’ that don’t need much time previous; but I reckon he’d like ter be runnin’ with his nose right on the trail all ther time. But he ain’t here. W’ot shall be did?” He considered the matter fully, and once de- cided to go straight to Police Head-quarters and tell allhe had heard. But he did not. **No; all ther satisfaction I’d git would be ter have ’em laugh a derisive laugh, as ’twere, an’ sling my bodily element out o’ ther door by one heel. Somehow I don’t strike p’lice favorable nohow. Must be thar is summut in my classic feetur’s not w’ot it should be.” He passed his hand slowly over his face, as though searching for the something which told against him. i ** Spose I might ’a’ confided in Jason Stone- rod, but something about that squinf-eyed gent don’t impress me favor’ble. Strange that Wrix- ley trains wi’ him. I wouldn’t, b’gosh, an’ I don’t believe ther mayor or postmaster would.” By this time the street scout was on the Bow- ery, and he soon reached a peanut-stand which ‘was perched near the curbstone. This was his ‘place of business,” which he ‘worked in company with another boy known as Stumpy. Bob had been somewhat lucky in two or three detective jobs, and had accumulated enough money so that he need not have gone in Tags, nor have run the stand either, for that matter; but he had a passion for detective busi- ness, and thought old clothes best suited to his purpose. It was his money that had started the stand, while Stumpy gave only his labor, but as the Badger was there but little, the small profit was a divided. he partners were not in the least alike. Gamin Bob was rugged, strong and compact; Stumpy was small and weak. Bob was able to cope with any boy of his age; Stumpy was lame, and fit neither for fighting nor running. Moreover, Stumpy was of a very meek na-~ ture, though Bob, with a lively, humorous fan- cy, always insisted that he was a great fighter and very aggressive. : Up to this stand he now sauntered, with his hands in his pockets, nodding nonchalantly to Stumpy’s bright, welcoming smile. __ “Wal, pard, how is merchandise and finance?” ‘* Pye sold two quarts since noon,” replied Stumpy, in a small but cheerful voice. “You hev ? Two quarts? Twowholequarts? B’gosh, Stumpy, biz is jest settin’ up on its hind legs an’ howlin’, You are sure it were two whole quarts?” : Z “Oh! yes, Bob. I hope you didn’t think I gave short measure.” ; “You kin gamble rocks, I didn’t, an’ I kin walk all over ther slouch who says you did. Ef thar is any one thing ther house o’ B. Bowery, Stumpy & Co. values, it’s its perfesh’nal honor. Jes’ so? Perfesh’nal honor, Stumpy, is ther eks on which ther wheel o’ success turns, Allays give full measure, Stumpy, an’ mebbe you'll git ter be a mayor or alderman,” ‘* Nonsense, Bob!” ‘* Jes’ so; considerable nonsense is also needed. Takes a big stock-in-trade ter make a alder- man.” Stumpy shook his head soberly. He had a pro- found veneration for the dignitaries of great Gotham, and the light way in which Gamin Bob always referred to them, shocked him. Before more could be said the shrewd Gamin observed a familiar face. Itwas that of a young man of something like twenty-one years; one who had more than the average of manly sym- metry of face and form; but at that time he looked somewhat pas sale and worn out. He was passing without a word, but Bob call- ed to him, “Hello, you!, Hev ye got a beam inter yer eye so that ye can’t see, or hey ye shook yer ole frien's?” The young man paused and looked at the boy in a wavering, undecided manner, **Oh! is it you, Bob?” “Is it mes Wal, T should Late concur that itis. Who did you’spect’twas? Who usu- ally keeps this’ere palatial emporium o’ trade traffic? Didn’t see no item in ther daily pa- er ter ther ’fect that I’d sol’ out, did ye? ’Spect ’d move inter Macy’s, wi’ all my stock in trade? See yer’, Dave, w’ot’s ther matter with you?” The boy’s keen eyes had not been idle, ‘* Nothing is the matter.” **Oh, come off! S’pect I’ve got near-sighted, blind, halt or lame? Ye look like ez though you’d been on a spree.” ‘*T haven’t,” Dave ffly replied. ‘No? ’Pearances is mighty onreliable then. You look like a scorched rat, b’gosh! Been sick?” ‘‘No. You ought to be a lawyer, you’re so good at cross-questioning. Remember I’m not on the witness-stand, and say no more. I’m in haste now and must go, but ll see you again,” ‘* Ain’t you working to-day?” ‘© Who said I wasn’t? Don’t let your tongue run away with you.” With this caution, given with increased tart- ness, the speaker moved off. Gamin Bob stared after him, and whistled softly. ‘¢ Hello, Stumpy, w’ot’s ther racket wi’ Mr. Dave Ballard? Never seen him in sech a snap- pish mood afore. He seemed hankerin’ ter chaw my ears off, an’ never deigned ter say ‘ Boo! ter ou.” ‘Perhaps he’s in trouble—I fear he is,” mild- ly 7 aa the lame boy. “* Wal, that ain’t no reason why he should let his measly passions rise, an’ be uglier than a sore-headed bear,” was Bob’s practical reply. ** Still, [reckon you are about co-rect on that pint, Stumpy, an’ I must say ’msorry. Dave is a good chap, an’ I wish him well. MebbeI could help him ef he spoke out, but *tain’t no way fur ter git help ter go ‘aoa an’ a-howlin’, an’ a-mowlin’ around like he does—not fur Joseph!” In the mean while the object of these remarks was striding up the Bowery as though anxious to escape himself, “Tl get into my room and stay there,” he thought, bitterly. ‘‘I carry an advertisement of my disgrace on my face, so that it is noticed even by street Arabs. Bob accused me of hay- ing been onaspree. Ha! ha! If he knew the kind of a spree, even he would shrink away fromme. Ha! ha!” His laugh was not a musical one, and his face was not happy or amused. On the contrary, he looked and acted miser- able and desperate. He continued on his way until he reached Twelfth street. Turning there, he went to a dingy brick house, applied a key to the door, en- tered and made his way to an attic room. This was his ibm Preece such as it was, but it was by no means a luxurious place. The furniture was scant, old and mixed, and certain spots on the ceiling and -walls showed that when rain fell, the roof did not wholly suffice to keep it out. David cast his hat aside viciously, and then roceeded to fill a a with tobacco, Thisdone, Bs lit it and sat down to smoke. He was in trouble, and he always found his tobacco a good friend in such cases, Several minutes he sat there, smoking and thinking, but even the aid of the tobacco could not enable him to banish the shadow from his face. Then came a rap at the door, He looked up in surprise, hesitated, and then arose and went tothe door. He opened it. - A well-dressed man stood outside, and that he was no stranger was proven by Ballard’s start of surprise. Neither did he seem to be a welcome visitor, for the young man’s face cloud~ ed still more. ** You here!” he muttered. **As you see, David,” was the smooth reply. ‘* Are you not going to ask me in?” Ballard hesitated for a moment, “The way is open,” he said, ungraciously, as he stepped back. The visitor entered, and, unheeding the un- friendly glances bestowed upon him, calmly re- moved his hat and gloves, set them on the old table and helped himself to a chair. During this period David watched him in si- lent wrath, dimly conscious that Mr. Courtlandt Walkington—such was the visitor’s name— was making appropriate remarks about the weather. } Mr. Walkington was a_benevolent-looking man—at least, so nearly everybody said. More- over, he was a fat, smooth-faced man, who seem- ed to iron the wrinkles of time from his face every day of his life, till it was as smooth and bland as a child’s; a big man, with a small voice, which was like the soft, gurgling noise of running oil. Having disposed of his hat, he looked squarely and benevolently at young Ballard. ‘* Have you secured a situation yet, David?” ‘* Have I?’ explosively demanded David. ** Have I? Who would hire me—a branded thief?” Mr. Walkington coughed deprecatingly. ‘Dear me, David, you need not express it quite so bluntly. I know the peculiar tempta- tions to which young men are subjected, and when one yields, let us not say that he is a thief, but that he was indiscreet.” ‘** But I did not yield!” fiercely cried David. ** Ahem!” ‘*Rnough of that!” vehemently continued the younger man. ‘‘ You are not now in the office of Walkington & Goff, but in my chamber, and you shall neither charge me with crime, nor put in your tantalizing ‘ ahem’s,’ nor anything of the kind. Why you are here I don’t know, but let me tell you that I still assert my innocence, and if you dare insult me I'll kick you down- stairs!’ It was a threat which few New York million- aires would have heard calmly, but Mr. Court- landt Walkington caressed his double chin, and seemed proof against anger. ** Do not be hasty, David. I beg that you will hear me before you pronounce condemnation, Why do you suppose I am here?” A hot answer trembled on the younger man’s lips, but he repressed it with an effort. ** Why are you here?” he bluntly asked, CHAPTER ITI. THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. Mr. WALKINGTON looked a little more cheer- ful as he noticed the change in David's voice. **T am here for your good, I assure you,” he replied, smoothly. ‘‘The late unfortunate oc- currence has given mea great deal of pain, for I had built hopes on you which I disliked to abandon—” ‘*One word,” interrupted David, “Do you believe me guilty?” Walkington hesitated, ‘* How can I reply?” ‘* Truthfully—if you know how.” The hard inflection was again in the young man’s voice, for he read Walkington’s manner aright. He took a quick turn across the room, and then planted himself squarely before his visitor. ‘*Mr. Walkington,” he said, ‘‘I entered your office three years ago on asmall salary. an never tried harder than I to give satisfaction. I wanted an advance in pay, and I wanted to be successful in life; and I knew enough to realize that an employee’s interests are identical with those of his employer. ‘Not a word of fault was found with me un- til—until that day when Mr. Goff accused me of being a thief. Words cannot express my sur- rise and dismay. I had been as faithful as I new how, and I had been honest to the letter, What was my reward? I was dismissed from your employ—as a thief |” ‘David!’ **Can you deny it?” ae You make my present business very diffi- cult. ‘*Then you have really come on business?” 66 Vas,” ‘State it then, and I'll sit here like a post and hear you to the end.” Ballard spoke firmly, and then threw himself into a chair with a fixed determination to do az be said, He felt a good deal of wonder as ~r a on ’ ot an
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- against you, but nearly three-score » to why oily Mr. Walkington had called on him, and he would rather have the full statement in few words. ‘Thank you, David; you now show com- mendable wisdom. Hear me asa friend, and I think you will not regret it.” David could hardly avoid repeating the word ‘friend ” ironically, but he curbed his inclina- tion. **Since you left our office,” continued the merchant, *‘ you have often been mentioned by Mr. Goff and myself. At first he was bitter ears have calmed my passions, and I realize that life is full of temptations, and that the fallen may be- come purified.” Ballard set his teeth tightly. He did not like the word ‘‘ fallen,” but bore it silently. “Day by day I expressed my views,” re- sumed Walkington, ‘‘and Mr. Goff finally be- came less severe. He remembered your term of service; your ability and tact for work; and he finally expressed regret at what taken place.” ‘*One word, Mr. Walkington. I say now, as I said then, that 1 know nothing about the sum of money which disappeared from your safe and that I never wronged you of a cent of money.” David’s assertion was earnest, but his ex-em- ployer did not notice it in words, ‘*T saw that Mr. Goff was yielding, and yes- terday I attacked the fortress in earnest. In ure Ji suggested that we give you another rial. David's face brightened for a moment, but the cloud soon returned. ‘* As a pardoned thief, sir?” ** As a young man of promise.” ‘*Pardon me, but I dectine to be pardoned for an offense I never committed. If youre-employ me, it must be as one wrongfully accused and acquitted.” Mr. Walkington caressed his chin anew, ‘* How can we prove you innocent?” ‘* Have I ever been proved guilty?” ‘*Not exactly.” ** Not exactly!) What proof was there against me? Asum of money is alleged to have disappeared from the safe, to which you, Mr. Goff and myself alone had the combination. I was accused on that fragile testimony. Was the money ever in the safe? Did not one of you remove and forget it? Might not other hands have taken it, lock orno lock? Was a cent of the money found in my possession? Did I not ask you to search my person and my room—to search everywhere? ‘“Such was the drift of my ar cidly replied Mr. Walkington, ‘‘ suppose Mr. Goff said?’ ‘ What did he say?” ‘*That he had been hasty.” Ballard’s face brightened, ** Did he admit that?” “cc Yes.” ment,” pla- tdo you ** And you—can you believe me innocent?” The young man’s voice was tremulous, **T can believe so much that I will not will- ingly destroy tot future. In plain words, we want you back!” David Ballard’s face was sorore. He was not of a suspicious nature, and though he had but a few minutes before been cast down to the lowest depths, he now arose to corresponding hights, ‘Is it ible?” he cried. ‘Possible and true, David.” Mr. Walkington’s manner had never been blander. ‘*Then you—surely, you cannot think very severely of me.” ** Assuredly, I do not, David.” “And my intemperate — my unjust words, since you came here?” ‘¢ You are young.” ‘* Then you forgive them?” **T do.’ For a second it hovered in Ballard’s mind that this generosity was something very different from what he-had supposed Courtlandt Walk- ington’s nature to be—he had often mentally termed him an ed hypocrite, even when enjoy- ing his favor of old—but he put back the sus- picion ‘* And I, sir, humbly apologize.” ‘Nay, David,it is not necessary. Let us call it quits and begin anew. Your pay will begin _ to-morrow.” **T will be at the office early, sir.” ** You need not come.” ** Not come, sir?” ‘*No: for, for a while, we shall put you on other work. Your pay ins to-morrow, but | 4 Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. you will have nothing to do. We are about shipping some valuable goods from Boston to this city, via a Sound steamer, and, for our own satisfaction and sense of security, we propose to send an employee along on the boat to keep a general watch over the goods. This will be your duty.” David looked perplexed. Walkington & Goff often received goods via the Sound, but never potore had he known that a man accompanied em. As the trai rtation line was responsible for the property, their care seemed sufficient, ** Are the goods unusually valuable?” ‘* No, but they are valuable.” ‘* What will be the nature of my duties?” ‘* That we will tell you later; you will receive full instructions before you start. You may call at the office, at three o’clock to-morrow.” ‘* Very well, sir.” ** And now I will go.” Mr. Walkington arose as he spoke, ‘* One question, sir, if you please. Shall I be retained for this special work?’ ‘* Oh, dear, no,” replied Mr. Walkington; ‘it will be only for a few trips—possibly for but one, This leads me to direct you to say noth- ing about the matter; not even to your best friend.” ‘Tt shall be as you say, Mr. Walkington.” ‘* Who knows that you had left the office?” ‘*Noone. I—I told them I was ill.” “That is good. Continue the little fiction and add that [have given you a vacation. if may as well add that the trip across the Sound is a bit of a secret, and 1 rely on your sagacity to preserve strict silence.” ‘* Not a word shall pass my lips.” “‘Good! The end of the affair may result in your stepping into a higher position with us than ever before.” With this remark, which acted like a spur on Ballard’s already excited imagination, the mer- chant took his departure. He went at once to Leonard street, and was soon in the office of Walkington & Goff. Mr. Goff was already there. -He was a man wholly unlike his partner in outward appear- ance. The senior partner had peculiarities; the junior had none, He was simply an average man of business; a shrewd, faithful member of the force of city merchants, we least, such was his reputation in New ork. He looked up as Walkington entered. ‘© Well?” ‘* All well,” replied the senior partner, with an oily chuckle, ‘‘ I have seen David.” ‘ And fixed him, I dare be sworn.” **' Yes; he will return to our employ.” ** And take a trip across the Sound?’ ** As guardian of our valuables.” % he sky-line?” r ! ha! Just so; by the sky-line. Ha! a Mr. Walkington laughed. It was not a loud laugh, but a mellow, jolly, refined and benevo- lent laugh; the laugh of a good man who feels that he has done a good deed. ‘* You are sure the plan will not miscarry?” ‘* Quite sure. I left David full of gratitude and rapture, and he promised to remain as si- lent as the grave.” ** A good simile, by Jove.” st Perhaps I should add, as silent as the watery ve. ‘*Tn the Sound?” “* Bxactly.” “*Tt takes you to fix em, Walkington.” ‘‘T fancy that I have a persuasive tongue.” ‘* Well, I’ve seen Hank again.” ‘* What did he say?” ’ “That allis well. He can get the stuff of the dynamiters, and for a reasonable figure. The scoundrel tried tomake us disburse five hundred dollars, but I told him flatly that we would y no such sum, and he fell to three hundred.” ‘*Excellent. That is a mere cipher compared with what we shall make out of it, and the dynamiters will be satisfied.” : ah You are to see Hank and arrange the rest. ‘Very well; I will do so.” The conversation lasted for some time longer, and then the partners attended to certain mat- ters of business and prepared to go. They did a considerable business, and were well-rated everywhere, it being supposed that their methods were careful, sure and honest. Really, their profits of late had been little more than their expenses. Both had outside money which might have been brought in to bolster up their business, but it was so invested that they disliked to withdraw it, and they had for years been running unpleasantly close to the breakers with what was in the firm. They were not the only house in New York, reputed prosperous, which was but a hollow concern, When Mr. Goff left the office he took a car, and started homeward. He lived on Lexington avenue in good style, owning the home in which he lived, and his family cut quite a figure among the other nabobs of their set. True, the ‘‘ best society ” did not receive them, but they were only one notch bes and few heads were holden higher than theirs. On to this home went Christopher Goff, unsus- — of the unpleasant surprise in store for CHAPTER IV. A RAGGED CLAIMANT. Mr. CHRISTOPHER GOFF reached home. He was admitted by a polite, deferential colored servant. He methis family and greeted them with dignified politeness. He ate his dinner with well-bred ease. Then he sat down in his rivate room toread his Commercial Advertiser ike a solid citizen. When he read, he was seldom disturbed. Dig- nified Mrs. Goff, and queenly Miss Goff, and snobbish Master Goff, Bh due respect to their lord and master. hile they kept their distance, each was a small sun in his, or her, so- lar system; if they trod on the toes of Goff, senior, they found themselves reduced to small planets, and Master Goff, though fourteen years of age, still knew what it was to revolve around the sun of which he was a son—and feel his heavy hand. Hence, Goff, senior, was usually left alone. He expected to be left alone on this occasion, but he was disappointed. Not more than half an hour had elapsed when there was a knock at the door. Mr. Goff said ‘‘ Come!” and the door opened, The deferential servant showed his head. ‘* Please, Mr. Goff, thar is two young pussons here who says as now—” ‘¢ Jes’ so; jes’so. Let us say it ourselves.” Colored iitwekintn had been pushed aside, and two persons now stood in the room at whom Christopher stared in speechless surprise. Was it possible that such creatures were in his room? ; For they were a ragged boy anda ragged girl, the one fifteen or sixteen years old, and the oth- er some three years younger ; two sharp-looking, precocious young people, but children of the street in the full sense of the word. Both were ragged, and the boy’s face was not clean. Mr. Goff saw this, and, as he abhorred dirt, it appalled him. Dirtin hisroom! What if it should fall away and rest on his splendid carpet? e shivered as he looked, but anger was more apparent on his face than anything else, and the small girl looked a little embarrassed and in- clined to retreat. J Not so the small boy; he had never been more at his ease. He waved his hand toward the colored ser- ant. ‘‘ Hannibawl, you may withdraw yer bodil presence, ter once. This hyar is .ter be a peri- vate intervoo, an’ your place is by ther front door. Keep yer orbs o’ vision onter ther mat, ter see that nobody don’t purloin it. You kin go, Skipio!” 7 : “Hold on!” cried Christopher Goff, finding his voice at last, and his angriest voice at that. “‘ Abraham, what in the world does this mean?” “‘ Deed, sah, I ain’t ter blame, sah. Dese hyar young wagrants said ez how dey was come onter an errant o’ life an’ death, an’ de boy would come in, sah; ’deed he would, sah.” ** Jes’ so, Mr. Rough,” added the boy, easily. ‘‘ Don’t blame Isaac, fur he tried ter keep us out, but when I mentioned ther life an’ death racket he took ther fever an’ ager so that he a’most shook his cowhide brogans off, an’ got sorter paralyzed, d’ye see? Don’t blame Moses, Mr. Rough. This address was free and easy and angered the great man still more, but some sudden fancy impelled him to hear what his strange visitors to say. Why ned did so he could not have told, for it was his way to havesuch customers thrown out. ‘“You may leave us, Abraham. Remain within hearing of the bell, however.” ‘‘-Yas,” added the street vagabond, ‘‘ but not within hearin’ o’ ther key-hole, Job.” The servant darted an angry look at him who was taking such liberties with his name, but did not venture to reply. He retired in good v é 7 ¥ 5
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aa “ ji t Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. 5 pa considering his demoralized state of mind, ‘‘ Now then,” said Mr. Goff, sharply, ‘‘ state your business at once, boy.” ““T guess, Mr. Rough, that you forgot ter say ‘Set down,’ didn’t ye? But we'll waive ther formal formality. Sarah, plant yerself onter there edge o’ that bronze-kivered cheer, but hol’ onter ther back on’tso’t you needn’t sink outer sightinitsluxuriousdepths. I’ve been inter ther Ylatial abodys o’ ther rich an’ princely afore, an’ know whatsechcheers are. You don’t, not be- in’ « business individooal, Sarah. Ez fur me, Vl stand. I find that ’are posish the most easiest fur my rheumatiz.” Christopher Goff stared in amazement at the free-and-easy street Arab who dared take such liberties with his house, and to let his tongue run so freely. ‘* Boy, who are you?” he almost shouted. ‘* Hey?” questioned the boy, putting one hand behind his ear. ‘* Who are you?—what is your name?” “Oh! Beg your august pardin, but yer see I’m deef in two o’ my ears, an’ when ye shout seven octaves above highcockalorum G, I can’t hear. It’s only w’en ye lower yer voice ter C, nat’ral, that I hear distinctly.” ‘*Have done with this foolish and insolent talk. Who are you?” “Didn't I tell yer? "Twas an oversight, I reckon, Mr. Rough. My name is Gamin Bob, otherwise the Bowery Badger, an’ I’m one 0’ yer feller-merchants. Ax arter me at City Hall, or ther Board o’ Trade. They'll give ye p’ints on me. My line is peanuts, an’ ef I had a keerd hyar ye would se it printed, ‘B. Bowery, Stumpy & Co.’” To save his life Mr. Chriscopner Goff could not have told why he let the ragged boy stand there and ramble on. He did not like poor people; he regarded them as the dust under his feet, and never before had he endured a visit like this; but the boy, or his rags, or something else, fas- cinated him, and—he endured it. ** And the girl?” “Ts Sarah Bird, by name, ter wit, namely; sometimes called Sadie, fur short.” ‘* What do you want?” ** Money,” replied the boy ‘¢ Justice,” added the girl, quickly Mr. Goff frowned. ‘¢ Explain at once.” ‘‘Kerect, fur ducats, Mr. er Ef ther affidavy don’t lie, you onc’t h a brother, Jeems, ter wit, namely.” A quick shadow crossed Goff’s faee. He glanced at the girl, and his expression was for- igi ‘‘ What is that to you?” he demanded. ‘* Not much ter me; not a red, copper-alloyed cent; but a heap ter her. Sarah, Mr. Rough, is Jeems’s darter!” Darker grew the rich man’s face. ‘¢ What lie is this?” he asked, hoarsely. ‘*Tt’s t?other lie, an’ no lie a tall. You've got a true bill, an’ ther jury is 0’ one mind. Mr. Rough, look at yer niece. Sarah, look at yer jolly old unk.” *“Boy,” cried Mr. Goff, “‘ give me any more of your impudence and I will have you flung ** Don’t call Lot; for your own peace o’ mind, I advise yer not ter call that brunette Ethiop. Chew yer cud an’ listen patiently. Sariah, you hev some fax an’ figgers bearin’ on this case, I b’lieve?” ‘“‘T’ve got Marm Bird’s affidavy,” promptly “on in the ragged girl, ‘“‘ an it’s as straight as a ve I. I didn’t come hyar’thout ther need- ful. ‘‘This is incomprehensible,” said the mer- chant, still looking darkly at Sadie. ‘“Ther furder you git, ther more ther in- ecomhenpresibily will be obsarved,” replied the gamin, catching boldly at the long word. ‘ But ter come right down ter hard-pan, ther amount on’t is this: Sariah, hyar, has lived all her days with one Marm Bird, ter wit, so-called; who. lived in a p’latialole rookery on Mulberry street. She always knowed she wa’n’t Marm’s darter, but who she was she never knowed or cared ther flap o’ a speckled hen’s wing.” ‘Keep ter ther main p’int, young man,” briskly put in the small girl. : *‘ Jes’ so; jes’ so, Sariah—which reminds me ter say, Mr. Rough, that ef you value this ’com- lished young lady’sfrien’ship, you mustcall her adie, an’ shoot ther Sariah. Wal, yer see, Marm Bird has died, an’ when she was at ther crisis, she tole Sadie ther whole racket. Now, all ye’ve got ter do is ter open yer arms an’ take her in.” ‘* Are you insane?” harshly demanded Goff. i ( t id « ; ie & ‘¢Not fur Joseph!” ‘¢ Then stop such senseless talk.” ‘* Which?” ‘¢ Such senseless talk.” “Oh, that’s w’ot ye call it, is it?” “ Yes, 16i8..” ‘“‘Now, ther atmospear gits smoky. I don’t ketch yer meanin’ fur a cent.” ‘You must be mad tocome here with such a story. Youare young for a blackmailer; pos- sibly you are too young to know what the law does to black mailers.” “Pm no knight, an’ I don’t wear no mail, any- how, but ter speak serious, I know all ’bout law that’s wu’th knowin’. Likewise, it percolates through my noddle that you charge me with be- in’ a blackmailer.” ** That is it, exactly.” ‘* Wal, I ain’t no blackmailer—not fur Joseph. I hain’t got no partic’lar int’rest in this hyar case, ’ceptin’ that I’ve come hyar ez a solid busi- ness man ter see that this young female has fair pisy: Ez fur blackmail, I don’t reckon we had etter argue that pint. "Tain’t ter your in- terest,” ‘‘ What do you mean, boy?” ““‘T mean that ef you don’t git down off your high hoss an’ talk sense you'll wake up ther sleepin’ lion, an’ he’ll chaw you inter cannibawl’s Mr. Goff shifted his position uneasily. People who knew him well would have been surprised to see how tamely he bore the remarks of the reneed pair. his claim is absurd,” he remonstrated, rather than asserted. ‘‘*You won't think so when Sariah scoops in the cool hundred thousand that was her fa- ther’s.” ‘ ‘‘My brother James left no children. This girl is an 1mpostor!” ‘‘Oh! you go away!” retorted Sadie. ‘“‘ You can’t come that. Marm Bird give me a hist’ry o’ ther hull affair, an’ I ain’t ter be bluffed.” ‘*Your ‘Marm Bird’ lied, girl! What did She say?/ Why, James was never married !” ‘« That’s where you're clean off, uncle. He did git married, but his dad an’ yourn, John Adams Goff, was then alive, an’ ez my pop married a poor girl—a singer on ther stage she was—he never dared own it, for his father always would hey it that his youngest boy was a wild chap an’ no ’count, an’ he kep’ a tight rein on him.” ‘‘Marm Bird,” added Bob, ‘‘allowed ez how somebody p’isoned ther senior Goff’s mind ag’in’ Jeems; but 0’ course ther p’isoner warn't ther oldest son, Christopher. O’ course he warn’t— not fur Joseph!” The gamin screwed his mouth to one side and winked wisely. it. a8 you say,” spoke Christopher Goff, ‘*you are James’s daughter, why did he never produce you?” ““*Cause he was killed on ther railroad two days arter his father’s death. He didn’t have no time fur ter inform ther world in gineral, but he did tell one person.” ‘‘ Who was that person?” asked Goff, in a hard voice. ‘‘ Marm Bird said ’twas you !” Mr. Goff’s hand worked nervously on the arm of his chair. ‘‘ Mrs. Bird spoke falsely. Had such been the an { should have cared for the daughter and wife— ‘¢ The wife was dead,” put in Bob. ‘There never was a wife, James never told me what you assert, and he was never married. Tam sure of this, and Mrs. Bird told a lie from whole cloth.” ‘‘ Christopher,” said Gamin Bob, seriously, “Pm s’prised at you. I hate fur ter see a brother merchant trifle so reckless wi’ ther fax o’ ther case.” ‘‘ Perhaps you,can prove what you say?” “We kin.” ‘‘ How? You say Mrs. Bird is dead.” ‘“ Marm Bird is demised, but she left her ’fes- sion fur ther ’lightenmento’ ther world. She said ez how you give her piles o’ bullion ter keep Sa- riah and ter keep ther secret.” ‘You are making me out a criminal, boy.” ‘“‘ Ther fax does p’int that way, Christopher.” ‘“Have you Mrs. Bird’s statement in writ- in q” “Vase ‘** Show it to me.” “oTain’t hyar, Mr. Rough. I tole Sariah we had better not bring it—not fur Joseph.” ‘* Why not?” ‘Wal, I lowed that it were saf’t at hum.” ‘“ World it be unsafe here?” ‘* Wal, we can’t ’most allays sometimes tell, ez Socrates said ter Judas “Scariat.” Mr. Goff frowned, but did not argue the int. ‘¢ Who are the witnesses?” ‘*O’ ther paper?” oc Yes. ” as They ain’t hyar, neither—none ’ceptin’ Sa- die. ‘¢T must see and talk with them.” The Bowery gamin scratched his head unde- cidedly, and his manner did not escape Mr. Goff’s sharp eyes. ‘¢ There were no witnesses, and there is no pa- per!” he boldly declared. ‘“* Ain’t there? Oh, come, Christopher, you can’t manipulate this court fur a cent. Youset yerself up fur a sharp ’un, but ther sharpest chap I ever knowed was cheated out 0’ his eye- teeth by a fool. Go slow, Mr. Rough; go slow. Don’t bet too high on ther non-existence o’ that air dockyment, an’ don’t forgit that thar stands one o’ ther Simon Peter, ginevine Rough fam- ily, Jeems’s darter, ter wit, namely.” The rich man caressed his mustache for a mo- ment in silence, and then replied: ‘*T still assert that brother James died child- less and unmarried; but I am a just man and shall not let this claim pass unnoticed. I will see those who knew Mrs. Bird, and who know this girl. Should I find a grain of testimony in her favor, I shall give it its due. ‘On the other hand, young as vou both are, I shall consign you to prison if 1 find you have trum up this specious tale.” ‘¢ You'll find plenty o’ trumps back on’t, boss ; ou kin gamble yer last ducat on that. When bert o’ the Bowery goes inter a game, you kin depend on’t ther case is fat wi’ jestice an’ ’spectability. You don’t ketch this hummin’- bird in no funny biz—not fur Joseph.” ‘‘We will see. Give me your address and that of the late Mrs. Bird.” ‘* Hern you kin hev an’ welcome; mine, I pre- fer to keep a state secret, ef you please.” ‘¢ A state secret? Why so?” bo So that you can’t do any funny biz, Christo~- pher. CHAPTER V. ’ THE PRECIOUS PAPER. Mr, Gorr’s face showed that he was both an- gry and chagrined, but he had marked out a course to pursue and could not afford to notice any unpleasant speech. “You are singularly suspicious, young man, considering that I intend to do full justice in the case, but, as you don’t know me, we will let it pass. Give me such facts as you will, and I'll investigate.” ‘‘ Ain’t you got ther fax?” asked Bob o’ the Bowery. “JT have your statement, which I shall now investigate.” ‘¢ Give him all ther items,” put in Sadie, with a quick nod. ‘It sha’n’t be said he bought a pig in a poke.” Bob yielded, and Mr. Goff was put in posses- sion of such facts as the boy saw fit to give; but he did not tell where Mrs. Bird’s written con- fession was. His precaution, if such it was, was only ordinary wisdom, but the merchant suspected that no such document existed. After attending to details, the ragged pair left the house. Gamin Bob gave Abraham a parting remark, cal'ing him Matthew, much to that worthy’s anger, and then they disappeared down the avenue. Both were silent for a while. Bob spoke first. ‘Wal, w’ot’s yer first impression, Sadie?” ‘“No good!” was the terse reply. ** How so?” ‘*That man is a crook by natur’, an’ he won’t do nobody jestice ef he kin help it.” ‘*Wal, now, Ill be waxed fur old soles ef I don't coincidently coincide wi’ you. Christo- her don’t strike me a tall favor’ble,” Bob con- essed, , ‘“‘T reckon we might ez wal kept away from im.” ‘‘Sho! Your courage ain’t slippin’ up, is it?” ‘““That’s about ther size on’t. ot good is thar o’ we’uns tryin’ fur ter git ther best o’ a millionaire?” ‘¢Sariah, my child, you are young, an’ thar- fore fail ter perceive that in my o’ficial capacity ez a detective, I jest hev ther dead-wood on Christopher.” ‘‘Oh, go’long! I know you hey grit enough, but w’ot kin you do wi’ him ?” **T kin make him squirm, youn kin make him squirm most amazin’. You kin amble dollars on that,” Bob asserted. ‘‘ Ther etective firm o’ B. Bowery, Vidoeq and Co. aoe pian no green watermillions—not fur Jo- seph. woman; I INA |
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6 Sadie did not share in this confidence, but as Bob was her only real protector, she did not care to wound his feelings by estimating him too low in words. Both were of the opinion that Christopher Goff would not accept Sadie as his niece and do her justice without a struggle. They had not at any time expected he would. If, as Mrs. Bird had said, he had hired her to take care of the girl, and keep her existence a secret, so that he might wrongfully keep her share of the Goff property, it was not likely he would quietly ac- cord her justice at this late day. If the girl had possessed a friend who had Bob’s shrewdness, without his confidence in him- self, that friend would have advised her to place her case in the hands of a good lawyer, with the understanding that if he won he should be prop- erly paid. Withso much at stake, any lawyer would have taken the case if her proofs were sufficient, taking his risk of failure and loss of fee. But Sadie had no such triend, and Bob, accus- tomed to fight his own battles, saw but one way now—to look after Sadie’s interests himself. He did not, however, fail to realize that he had undertaken a big job. Christopher Goff was, figuratively speaking, intrenched in a po- sition which seemed almost impregnable, and only the gamin’s unbounded self-reliance led him to attack that position. Now that it was done, he intended to win. Silence fell between the young couple as they went; a silence which was finally broken by Sadie. ‘* Be you goin’ home wi’ me?” she asked. ** Wal, I’ve been a-cogitatin’.” ** Been a which ?” ** Revolvin’ an idee. Say, you ain’t made up yer mind ter let me take Marm Bird’s docky- ment, hev ye?” “ ANO, WOML tee **Tt’d be safter wi’ me.” “‘T can’t see it. Sech a perambulatin’ critter ez you be is liable ter git garroted an’ gone through,any time. Then whar would ther corn- fession be?” ‘*It’'d be in my pocket ther day ther coroner sat on them ez tried ter garrote me, an’ I’d be ez brisk ez a Brooklyn belle. No garroter never t ther bulge on me yit, an’ I don’t mean they shall. Butef ye wanter hang onter ther paper, I don’t blame ye—not fur Joseph! It is sorter yer own, Sariah, an’ Marm Bird tole ye fur ter cling to it like a copper teradoorway. But you orter hev a safe place ter put it.” **T#’s rolled up inside ther winder-curtain.” **Korect. Wal, w’ot’s ter pervent it’s bein’ unrolled? A burglarious inclined chap would gitaway wi it.” ‘* What better place is thar?” ‘* Jes’ w’ot I’ve been cogitatin’. Ez I said, ’'d feela heap safer ef I had itin my own pocket, but I don’t’sist. Per contrary, [I do say in a small howl that somethin’ uncommon orter be did wi’ it. Therefore I'll go ter yer p’latial abode an’ look up a place o’ safety.” He went. Sadie’s ‘‘ palatial abode” was anything but palatial, as the majority of people understand theterm. It was one of the worst old rookeries on a hard street. Dingy, cracked brick walls looked down on wretched pavements. New York is not noted for smooth sidewalks or paye- ments, but, there, confusion ran riot. One could not walk without danger of falling. If he tried to cross the street he found mud and refuse flung from the houses. When he breathed he inhaled unwholesome air. Dirt, disorder and vice ran riot there—vice, for the people were no better than thestreet, and ovime flourished where should have flourished the broom. This had been Sadie Bird’s home; the scene of her education, such asit was. She had lived in the midst of vice—uncontaminated; in the midst of dirt—clean; and if she lived in the midst of 1pes ragged, it was because poverty compelled Poverty is the garroter that throttles, the vampire that sucks the blood, and the wolf which worries down the poor. Sadie and the Badger entered the house. The gir] still occupied the room in which Mrs. Bird had died. It was a miserable affair, but since she had become sole occupant, Sadie had applied water so freely to it that it seemed like @ new place. Her landlady was one Mrs. Callahan, and Mrs. Callahan was somewhat concerned about the rent. She doubted the girl’s ability to pay, and though she had thus far been paid in ad- vance, never missed a chance to question Sadie as to her intentions and her future. nee eee ee ee eee ee eee ee ee ee ee eee bo} Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. She need not have worried, for, though Mrs. Bird had carefully concealed the fact, Sadie had for two years wholly supported both by selling papers, and she was certainly not injured by the death of the old woman. But Sadie did not see fit to humor Mrs. Calla- han’s curiosity, and great was that person’s anx- iety as to her youngest lodger. On this occasion she saw the young pair enter, and she at once became interested. ‘*Tt’s suspicious that it looks whin she begins bringin’ her friends hyar, an’ Oi’ll jest take a look inter dhe room an’ see what’s in de wind.” With this idea strong in her mind she cau- tiously ascended the stairs. The door was closed and Sadie and Gamin Bob were talking in such low tones that she did not at first catch their re- marks, She applied her eye to the key-hole. It was a place of limited observation, but the scene of the room lay just right for her purpose. She saw Bob standing on a chair at the further side, close by the window, and while she looked Sadie unrolled the curtain. Her wouder increased, and it was not lessened when Bob took from the fold of the curtain a small white paper. ‘*Hyar she be,” he observed. “*Hyar’s what ?” thought Mrs. Callahan, with great querulousness of spirit. ‘‘ Begorra, what the Ould Boy kin they have there which they’re so choice ave? It looks loike blank paper, but may be a note ave hand, fur all I know.” “Straight ez a string,” added Bob; ‘‘ an’ now ter find a place ter put it. Where shall it be?” ‘Tn ther stove,” suggested Sadie. “Not any, fur Joseph. Kindlin’-wood is too mighty cheap fur ter use iis fur sech a pur- ose.” ‘* But thar won’t be no fire fur a month.” ‘* We can’t run ther risk. We will put it— Hold on! Be thar any p’ints from which a eavesd rooper kin git his awful eye on us?” ) ‘‘Strikes me I see a key-hole in ther door. Them is useful when properly used, but rank p’ison when some measly oid spy glues his awful eye on ther orifice. We don’t want no Spy; not fur Joseph; an’ I’) hang a cloth over it.’ He suited the action to the word, much to the wrath of Mrs. Callahan, but the door was not opened, and she kept her place and strained her ears to overhear all. ‘*Tt ain’t no slouch o’ a job ter hide sech a thing safely,” continued Bob, ‘‘ an’ I want ter impress on yer oi seid hip mind that ef this hyar parchment goes ter blue chaos, ’twas ag’in’ my advice ye put it hyar.” ‘*T want it whar [ kin watch over it,” some- what stubbornly replied Sadie. “*So ye shall, fur sure. It’s yer own paper, an’ you’re yer own boss. You'd better keep yer eye peeled fur thieves, an’ robbers, an assassins, though.” ‘* Where’ll you put it?” ‘*T was jest a-’siderin’, on ther bed-posts tight?” “Be they? I dunno. ‘* Tl] show ye.” As Sadie spoke the boy had stepped forward and raised the ornament which surmounted one of the bed-posts, thus revealing a cavity in the post itself to which it was fitted by means of a in. i Jest ther place,” he added. ‘‘ Nobody’ll think 0’ pokin’ his nose inter that hole.” Mrs. Callahan could see nothing, but she heard enough to give her a full understanding of all, and she grinned evilly. ‘* Nobody won't, hey?’ she muttered. ‘‘ Be- gorra, we'll see aboot dhat. Ef Oi don’t hev me hands on dhat mysterious paper widin dhe wake, Oi’m a liar.” Any of Mrs. Callahan’s neighbors would freely have admitted that she was a liar, but the fact remained that her discovery was unfortunate and dangerous. The hiding-place found by Bob impressed Sadie as being a novel and clever one. The cap fitted closely to the post proper, and though she had occupied the room for two years, she had never before known that the cap could be removed. From this she argued that it was a safe place. The paper was stowed away and the ornament replaced, and then Bob prepared to move. ‘* Ef you hear from Christopher, jest send ’round ter my office,” he said, at parting. ‘‘ You don’t want ter measure wits wi’ him; it needs an old rounder like me fer ter deal with sech measly chaps. Don’t you try it, or Chris will git ther best o’ ye.” “*T ain’t goin’ ter hev no great ar, ent wi’ him. Ef he comes ’round an’ sez thar is forty or fifty million dollars ready fur me, I’m his huckle- Be them figgerheads Why?” berry; butef he p’ints ter ther other tack, I don’t sail in no boat wi’ him at ther hellum.” **Good ’nough! I obsarve wi’ pleasure that you know a sick cat from a well one. Keep on in this way an’ you'll be ther pride o’ ther Goffs —or their thorn, jest es they handles ye.” With this compliment Bob took his departure. Mrs. Callahan had made a timely retreat, and the Bowery Badger left the house without a sus- picion that their valuable secret was already in danger. CHAPTER VI. GAMIN BOB STRIKES A TRAIL. WHEN the Bowery Badger was once gone from the house, his thoughts turned from Sadie to the men he had seen on the pier, and their in- teresting talk. ‘** Dunno but I really orter go ter ther big-bugs o’ this hyar village, but they’d laugh at me, I s’pose, jes’ ther same ez usual; an’ I reckon I'll paddle my own canoe. I'll drop over an’ see ef Vrixley is Lack, an’ ef he ain’t, [ must git along some other way. B. Bowery, Vidocq & Co. don’t ginerally git left more’n forty mild in ther wilderness.” With this consoling reflection he went to Wrixley’s office, but it was locked—even Mr. Stonerod was now away. ‘* Don’t like this, b’gosh! There’s no tellin’ when Wrix will turn up, an’ afore then, them high-daddy conspiracioners may git in their fine work an’ blow ther Sound steamer ter chaos an’ kindlin’-wood. Ef I can’t find Wrix, nur ther schemers, I reckon I'll hev ter board ther wessel an’ put a flea in ther cap’n’s east ear.” As it was already well past the hour of illum- inating great Gotham, Bob next went to the hen stand. He found Stumpy still brooding over his wares, butat once noticed that the lame boy’s face bore an anxious, frightened look. ‘*Hello!” he said, genially. ‘‘W’ot malign inflooence has operated onter yer animyle speerits?” ‘*Oh! Bob, there has a man been along here who took out a can ot dynamite and threatened to throw it at me because I wouldn’t give him any peanuts,” said Stumpy, rapidly. ‘“*He did, hey? Wal, he was ginerous in- clined, but he hadn’t orter s’posed you would swap prime peanuts fur sech ’bustible goods ez dynamite—not fur Joseph! But w’ot were ther row?” ‘* He was drunk,and wanted the peanuts on credit, and I wouldn’t let him have any.” **Course ye wouldn’t. Wot did he take ye fur? A flat? Ef ye did biz that way, ye’d only need a sign-board and red light ter be a free dis- pensary. But, say, w’y didn’t ye call a copper an’ hev him put in hock?” ‘¢'There wasn’t any policeman in sight.” ‘You'd ’a’ found him in Patsy McFlattery’s ‘every time; that’s his beat.” ‘¢ He isn’t there all the the time, Bob.” ‘No; not when he’s gettin’ outside his dinner. But, say, be you sure ther rampagin’ chap had dynamite?” ‘*He said so. It wasina can.” “So be oysters and kerosene, ’casionally. Ther man was pooty racky, was he?” ‘¢- Yes, as ugly as a céllar Italian.” ‘¢ Which way did he wanish?”’ ‘Straight up the street.” ‘* How long ago?” ‘* Rive minutes, perhaps.” **No longer than that? B’gosh, ’m arter him like a dude goes fur ducats. W’ot fur a looker was he?” Stumpy gave a hurried, but clear, descrip- tion, and then away went the Badger at a rapid ace. Pee I'll find him ef it lays in ther books, I’m sorter interested in all dynamite critters, an’ ef I kin run this chap into quod, mebbe I kin bulge my vest pocket wi’ bullion ez a reward.” neited by such thoughts, he hurried up the Bowery, much to the discomfort of sundry peo- ple with whom he collided in his haste. He could not stop to pay attention to growling, however: all his attention was directed to looking for the man Stumpy had described. He had nearly reached Fourth avenue when his labors were rewarded. Looking ahead he saw a man who seemed to deserve more than a passing glance. The stranger was quiet enough then, but his slightly unsteady gait showed that he had more liquor aboard than was good for him. he street scout rapidly summed him up: ‘¢ Tall an’loose-j’inted ; slouchy dressed in gray; boots run over at side; red hair an’ whiskers; wears a soft hat wi’ seven different shapes to it. Ef that ain’t ther measly dynamiter Stumpy see pene ae as... 5 __.~seenepenemres =
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figured out, !m no detective—not fur Joseph. Tl gambol ’long in his rear.” Not a doubt existed in the boy’s mind, and he began his dogging with a skill and patience an old thief-catcher might have envied. Where the red-haired man went he was bound to follow. Pursuing him without trouble, he was led up Fourth avenue to Fourteenth street, where the pursued tried to enter a musical resort, but was ejected as a disgrace to the place. Finding himself left on the sidewalk he occu- pied the next few minutes in cursing, but, see- ing a patrolman approach, beat a retreat up Third avenue. At nineteenth street he turned to the right and walked on until he reached a good-sized building, the door of which stood open and showed a light within. ** Business buildin’» with some sort 0’ a dance or party goin’ on—most likely, a ball thar.” Such was the spy’s verdict as he looked at it, and a little further survey enabled him to re- member seeing it before. He had once delivered a letter there, and had a fair idea of the internal arrangement. ‘¢ Jest ther place fur crooked work, b’goshi an’ ez this hyar measly critter goes in ez though he owned ther hull shop, reckon I’ll meander in ar- ter him an’ see w’ot is up.” The Badger followed the man carefully up two flights of stairs. They were then on the same floor with the ball, and, looking in, Gamin Bob saw that it was no ball, but a dozen people who seemed to have been eee a play, or music, or something of the ind. They were just leaving, however, and so near the door that the Gamin saw no way to escape discovery except to follow the red-haired man up the additioual stairs. In that quarter all was nearly dark, though a dim light somewhere in the rear, and the free manner of the man, told that he knew where he was going. Perhaps it was well for the Badger that his quarry had so much liquor aboard, for he never once looked around. At the top of the stairs was a small space where the unknown’s feet rung on level floor, and then he rapped at a door. Bob paused and listened. The man got no answer. He repeated the knock, and then, as all con- tinued silent, broke out impatiently: Divil take yez, why don’t ye kim along an’ open dhe dure? Oi’d loike ter know.” Apparently there was a cautious answer, for in a moment he fiercely added: “Who dhe Ould Boy should it be but mesilf, Pat Merrigan? Open dhe dure, or Oi’ll smash it in wid me foot!” There was an instant rattling of a key, and then the door opened. ‘**Divil take yez, yer ould bones are gittin’ stiffer than iver, Oi should say.” ** Softly, softly!” answered a small, feminine- .like voice, which, nevertheless, was that of a man. ‘‘I fear me ver’ mooch you have been drink again.” ** Bet yer boots Oi hev, me boy, an’ ‘who's a betther roight? Hould yer tongue on thas p’int an’ talk sinse. Begorra, whin Oi want ter come in, in Oi come.” ‘* Mon ami, you gave not ze password.” ‘Ould Nick take dhe password; Oi’ve no time to bother wid it—Oi’m too happy. *** Begorra, me name is Patsy McCree; Oi live in dhe top ave a blackthorn tree; To live widout work is me patent fat trick, An’ Oi’m a bould, darlin’ son aye St. Patrick.’ ‘“Whoopee, how’s dhat fur melody, Ould Frinch Bones!” j Merrigan had recovered his good humor, and he sung the quoted words in a rollicking voice, accompanied by a sound which seemed aslap on his companion’s shoulder. ‘* Be silent, be silent!” cried the small voice, imploringly. ‘‘ Mon ami, will you remember wen ze true fact zat we must no noise make?” **Oh, go tell that to dhe marines. Shut dhe dure, Ould Frinch Bones, an’ sample me whis- bh The Bowery Boy heard no more. The door was closed, and he was left in total darkness. The people who had been in the hall had gone their way also, and a clang from below left the street spy with the unpleasant opinion that he had been locked into the building. Possibly the door was merely closed, but he feared something more had been done. ‘* Wal, w’ot’s that got ter do wi’ these here cherubs? I ambled in hyar fur ter investigate, Gamin ob, the Bowery Badger. 7 an’ I’m goin’ on wi’ ther procesh ef ther dyna- mite don’t blow up an’ sling me up among tker stars, garters, moons an’ other ethereal orbs. Wonder ef I kin hear w’ot’s bein’ said?” The boy ascended the remaining steps and found the door. There was a light beyond it, and he heard the sound of voices, but that was ‘*B’gosh! I can’t ketch a word hyar. W’ot’s ter be did? Wish I’d brung an ear-trumpet or telephone. Say, you two night-owls, raise yer warble so’t I kin drink itin. Nary raise. Be I goin’ ter be so all-firedly left ez this? Strikes me I hear an innard voice chant, ‘ You be, B. Bowery!” He laid his hand somewhat recklessly on the door, and then met with a surprise. The knob turned and the door opened. Gamin Bob stood still. He had heard the key turn, but it now occurred to him that Merrigan had been ‘‘pawing over” his companion with the unreasoning affection inspired by liquor, when the latter tried to shoot the bolt, and the attempt had been a failure. Be that as it might, the door was now ajar; the boy had not been detected; and he had a clear view of the room. It was long and narrow, and filled with all kinds of rubbish—boards, empty barrels and cases, and divers other things—which served to make it look more likea farm-house garret than anything else. A. kerosene lamp burned at one end, and Mer- rigan and the other man were standing near it, The latter was a tall, very slender man, with a sharp face and attenuated limbs, and jet-black hair and beard. His dress was all black, except a collar, and as the coat was cut long it brought the peculiarities of his thin person into greater prominence. He was now trying to keep off Merrigan, who was determined that he should drink. ‘No! no! no!” cried the Frenchman, ‘TI will not ze stuff touch. You know I drink not ze accursed fire zat steal away men’s brains. Go wiz yourself alone, and let me be wiz myself alone.” ‘‘Begorra, ye’re an ould snappin ’- turtle; dhat’s phat ye be, Ould Frinch Bones!” growled the Irishman, who thereupon gave up the at- tempt. ‘* Who care’s whether ye drink or not? Sure, there’ll be dhe more fur me.” And he elevated a flask to his mouth. The spy remained watching, though without the faith which had led him there. This bois- terous Irishman, with his flask of whisky, and all his thoughts fixed on the flask, seemed like anything but a dynamiter. he only thing to offset all this was the old loft, with its singular array of barrels, boxes and other rubbish. What were they all there for? ‘*Oi had some fun coming up dhe Bowery,” said Merrigan, as he finished his drink. ‘‘ Had a row wid a slump ov a chap who kept a peanut stand, an’ tried ter git soom nuts on tick, an’ whin dhe galoot refused, Oi just made bel’ave Oi had some dynamite wid me. Begorra, ye eta ’a’seen the waggabone turrun pale. Ha! al’ ‘‘ What!” cried the Frenchman, excitedly; ** did you tell to him zat you had dynamite?” ‘Sure, an’ Oi did.” ‘‘ Rool! fool! fool!” and the Frenchman beat his head with his hand, reckless of the pain he produced. ** Who’s a fool?’ demanded Merrigan, belliger- ently. ‘““You! You are ze fool; ze stupid fool! Sacré! how often must I to you tell zat you shall nevaire ze dynamite mention out ave zis office? Stupid, will you both of us ruin? What if ze man ze police tell? Oh! mon Dieu, ze po- lice will find us out and hang us to ze gallows, by gar!” . He was very much excited, and made divers wild gestures; but Merrigan, after his first sur- prise was over, laughed at the idea and scoffed at danger. ‘ ‘¢-You are von fool!” retorted his companion. *‘Oh! why did I you take in ze partnersheep? You know not zat ze great virtue in all sings is to keep you your mouth closed tight an’ shut.” The Irishman now grew angry, and a wrangle ensued which was very interesting to the Bowery He learned thereby that the Frenchman was named Dupré, and was a manufacturer of dyna- mite. His assistant in the work was Merrigan, who was only a workman, and knew little about the disposition of the stuff, while the hall below was ee ah by a German society. Several nations were thus represented in the building, but only Dupré knew why dynamite oond was stored in the loft, if it was stored there, or why it was made. Gamin Bob overheard all that was said, but heard nothing that was particularly interesting, and he was thinking of trying to beata retreat, when affairs took an unpleasant turn. A sound just below him was followed by steps which plainly showed that some one was ascend- ing the stairs. The Badger was caught between the unknown and the dynamiters, much like a rat in a box! CHAPTER VIL TROUBLE FOR THE BADGER. GAMIN Bos quickly realized his danger and turned ‘fora way out of it. If the man con- tinued to ascend the stairs he would surely dis- cover him, and thenthe dynamiters would oor a spy was after them. e also suspected that the stranger was their vac iscovery must be avoided if possible. At his left was another door, but this was locked, and his last way of escape was cut off, He could only move by entering the loft. As this conviction flashed upon him, he looked inside. Dupré and Merrigan were several yards away, and neither was looking toward the door. Seeing this, the gamin’s resolution was quickly taken. ‘* Nothin’ ventured, nothin’ had,” he grimly muttered; and then he passed through the door with the caution of a cat. He seemed very close to the dynamiters then, and ifeither glanced toward the door, discovery was inevitable. The boy’s coolness did not desert him fora moment. With a steady hand he closed the door, and then glided toward the darkest part of the loft. Every instant he expected a loose board to creak under his feet, and he had read Dupré well enough to suspect that the man would hesitate at no crime. Discovery might mean death, The dynamiters talked on, however, and saw nothing, and the spy soon reached the further side of the room. ere he looked for a hiding- lace, and seeing a case with the cover laid oosely on top, crawled inside and adjusted the boards over him. ‘* By ther howlin’ Boreas, I’m inter ther con- fines 0’ Dynamite-land now, fur sure, an’ it kind- er percolates through my noddle that I kin smell saltpeter an’ brimstone. That’ere French- man ain’t w’ot would be called an angelical cher- ub—not fur Joseph. ‘*¢ Pve been in all sorts 0’ mud-holes an’ quick- sands in my ewentful c’reer, but this mernopo- lizes ther bun, b’gosh. Hello, t’other critter cracks ther panel!” This was the gamin’s way of saying that some one had rapped. Such was the case; a knock had sounded at the door, and Dupré at once became as mysterious as a stage-conspirator. Bending his tall form, he laid one hand dra- matically on his lips. ‘¢ Hist! hist!” he whispered. ze police haf come.” ‘** Mebbe dhey ain’t,” growled Merrigan. “ Ef Oi’m no liar, that is Dave Crowe’s knock. An- swer him, Ould Frinch Bones.” Dupré brightened and moved toward the door just as the knock was repeated. He then uncovered an opening in the wall, and several words passed between him and the other man—words Bob could not distinguish, but so satisfactory to Dupré that he turned to open the door. He then discovered that he had before failed a lock it, and this caused him to swear volu- y. The door opened, and a short, fat man enter- ed. He greeted both the others jovially, looked around the loft and genially asked: ‘* How’s dynamite?” ‘¢ Bad, ver’ bad,” replied Dupré, making sure he had locked the door this time. ‘* Ah! Myn- heer Junz, you should a Socialist be.” ** Not i Jung replied, shrugging his shoul- ders. ‘ It is true my brother is—a—what he is, but I prefer the peaceful trade of dealing in flower bulubs.” Mr. Jung spoke very fair English, except when he stumbled over an occasional word. Bowery Bob, closely watching set him down as a Hollander. ‘* An’ have not you come to buy ze dynamite at all?’ pathetically asked Dupré. “NotI. I’m of the miluk-and-water order, as the Americans say, and no dynamiter. But there is one thing I do want, Monsieur Dupré.” ‘* Vat eez zat? ‘““A dry-goods case. I want to send some “Tt may be zat »* feb er? sae Py ren sista Ua a A ans i & gt 1 ee: re 7] 4% : r “2 EN
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flower bulubs to Providence, where I have a large order.” ‘Good! If I can no sell you ze dynamite, I vill sell ze case. Come zis vay, mynheer, an’ you s’all see ze case.” All this ought not to have been of interest to the Bowery Boy, but, unfortunately, it was. They advanced straight toward the box in which he was concealed. The full sense of his peril flashed upon him, but it brought no fear. He had not spent so much of his life along the east-side streets and wharves without getting a good deal of coolness, and he showed it now. Keeping his place, he quietly awaited the result, ‘* Here is ze box zat you want,” said Dupré. ‘*Zis ees large an’ strong, and init you can sheep all ze bulbs you desiree.” ‘* Haven’t you a smaller one? large,” replied Jung. ‘* Ah! but eet ees smaller in ze middle of ze inside, mynheer. Please to look an’ see for yourself. I assure you zat you vill be sur- prised—” Monsieur Dupré stopped short. He had lifted the cover partly off the case when the entrapped boy rose to his feet and stood facing them. He was ‘‘in for it,” and as half-way measures would do no good, he came up as coolly as can be imagined. There had been a surprise, but not of the na- ture expected by Dupré. The chief dynamiter stared at the gamin in speechless consternation. The stubborn hair of his head seemed to bristle with fear. ** Ah, mon Dieu !” he cried, ‘‘ vat ees zis? Oh, my soul, eet eez von spy, an’ we s’all all be to ze guillotine sent an’ cut off from our heads off, by " It seems too ‘* Jest hol yer hosses, Frenchy, an’ not git in sech a rip-tearin’ passion,” returned the lad, promptly. ‘‘1 hain’t no de’statin’ eperdermic, a-tall, but jes’ merely a kid w’ot hez got inter ther wrong bake-shop. Don’t be skeered, fur I won’t hurt ye—not fur Joseph!” But M. Dupré began to wring his hands wild- Mi Ah! ah! ah! I am von ruined man!” he cried. ‘‘I shall be wiz ze guillotine beheaded by ze police. Oh, I am ze ruin av ze old man.” ‘* You-do seem sorter weak in ther top story,” coolly replied Bob, still standing in the box. **Reckon ez how ye’ve corntracted softenin’ 0’ ther brain, or lice. Say, hol’ on, or ye’ll wring ther ile all outer yer finger. j’ints.” He was trying to make light of the matter, but Jung, who had been looking at him excited- ly, suddenly dashed to ruin all his hopes of get- ting off easily. ‘*Dupré, who is this boy?” **T know not.” ‘¢ Then he isa spy; you can depend on that. Merrigan, guard the door.” ‘*Wot’s ther matter wi’ the door?” coolly asked Bob. ‘‘ Be you afeerd it is another meas- ly spy? See hyar, Mister Jung, you're clean off yer pedestal—you be. I’m no more dang’rous than a week-old kitten.” ‘* He is a spy—a spy!” shrilly declared Dupré. ‘* Oh, come off!” advised the undaunted boy. ‘* Hey I ther piercin’ eye an’ broken nose o’a emissary 0’ anybody? Not fur Joseph! I’m a free-born ’Merican citizen, wi’ a clean bill o’ health an’ vaccination mark on my arm, b’gosh!”” As lightly as Gamin Bob talked, he did not fail to see that he was in a serious predicament. Three scowling faces confronted him; even Jung, who had lately been so smiling, looked fierce and menacing now. ‘Let me talk wi’ him,” said Merrigan. “‘ Boy, who be yez?” “cc Hey (30) ‘* What’s yer name?” ‘“‘George Washington Winks,” promptly re- sponded the Gamin. ‘¢ Where do ye live?” ** On ther piers.” ‘¢ What pier?” ‘¢ Any one where I «in gitasnooze. I ain’t pertic’ler. I’m a—w’ot-d’ye-call-it?— cosmopo- politan sort 0’ a youth, d’ye see?” ‘¢ What are yez doin’ hyar?” ** Standin’ in a box.” Dupré stamped his foot. “ Sacré, you're a spy!” he hissed, shaking his fist in the boy’s face. ‘“Nary spy! ole hoss-fly; I ain’t no measly sneak, an’ my name ain’t ‘ Sacré’—notfurJoseph! Make a note on’t, will ye? Call me G, W., or sim- ply Winks.” ‘ Why are you here?” asked Jung. * Jes’ ter git a nap.” “Don’t lie tous. This door is kept closed all the time. How did you get in?” ‘* Come down ther chimbly.” ‘Tt don’t enter this room.” ““DidI say it did? Not fur Joseph! I said I entered, not ther chimbly.” ‘* Ah!” interrupted Dupré, in his usual shrill voice, ‘‘ vy should we waste vords with zisgamin? He is a SPY of our enemies, an’, by ze bones of Napoleon, he s’all die like von dog wiz zis knife!” And he drew from his coat a glittering wea- pou, the steel of which was over a foot long. ob, however, looked at him coolly. ‘*Go’way; that ain’t therstyle fur ter dispose o’ dogs. ’Sides, you ain’t no licensed dog-catcher, an’ | ain’t no dog, though I hev got a grip wu’th havin’. Jes’ put up that carver an’ le’s talk sorter amiable, jes’ fur a change.” ‘* Boy, how did you come in?” asked Jung. ‘* Walked in on my hind legs.” ‘* Why did you come?” ‘* Wanted a place fur ter srs a ‘*Tt is von spy!” interrupted Dupré. ‘‘ You are a spy, an’ you shall ze death av a dog die.” ‘* Oh, say, give us a rest, will ye? Yer tongue wobbles *round in a way wearisome ter delicate ears. ‘** Merrigan, watch the boy while we talk,” ab- ruptly directed Jung. ** Oi will, an’ Oi’ll wipe him wan in dhe jaw ef his tongue don’t run less,” growled Merrigan. So the other men wentaside and began to talk earnestly, while the Irishman kept his place and glared fiercely at tte Gamin. The latter plainly saw that he was in a bad fix. With his experience about New York, and her diversified mass of people, he could read these fellows well enough to see that not one of them would hesitate to commit any lawless deed that might serve to protect themselves from danger. He had been caught in their den, and as he no longer doubted that they had important secrets to hide, he expected hard usage. Despite what Jung had a 9 he seemed one of the gang. Bob’s face betrayed nothing of his feelings, though, and he appeared far more at ease than the men. Dupré and Jung returned after fifteen min- utes’ earnest, and, at first, excited, conversa- tion. ‘* Boy,” said the latter, ‘‘ are you going to con- fess?” ‘* Confess w’ot?’ ‘* Why you are here.” ‘* Ain’t I tol’ ye I come in fur ter get a place ter sleep?” ‘* That won’t do.” ‘* Why won't it?” ‘* Because it is false.” ‘* Who says so?” ‘¢ Why do you talk nonsense? We know you are a spy for some one, and you may as well speak plainly. Were you sent by the police?” ‘* Nixy! I paddle my own dug-out an’ let ther p’lice do ther same. obody sent me, an’ ’'m a full-blooded perivate cit’zen, an’ not ter be sent or driy by nobody. I’m no bonded slave, wi’ shackles onter me—not fur Joseph, thank you.” ‘““You talk very well, but it won’t work,” harshly returned Jung. ‘‘We know you are lying, and shall deal with you accordingly. You shall pay the penalty for spying on us. The pen- alty is—death !” CHAPTER VIII. IN A BAD BOX. Turis startling assertion was met by the Bow- ery Boy with his usual sang froid. ‘Oh, gammon!” he exclaimed, coolly. ‘* Not that we are foolish enough to kill you here,” added Jung, “‘ where we have no facilities for disposing of your body. No; although such was my friend’s wish, we shall not kill you here. I have planned it better. You seem to have a fondness for that box.” ‘* Wal, ’tain’t no great shakes for a box,” Bob steadily answered, ‘‘ but ez I afore said, it’s a fair sort o’ a bed inter which ter recline my aged bones an’ snooze.” ‘*You shall have all the chance you desire. We are going to bind you, hand and foot, pack you in the box, and ship you to Boston. There our agents will receive you, take the box out in the harbor and sink it in the water.” ‘*¢ Kinder a wet job,” commented the boy. ‘“We shall see. It will not be the first time I’ve packed men thus, and I shall take care that you get there in safety.” ‘Thank ye fur nothin’.” ‘* We will now proceed to the work.” ‘* Shall I hol’a glim while ye pack me?” ‘¢- You will keep silent.” ‘¢ Will I? Who sez so? D’ye take me fur a Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. 3 dumb man? Obsarve anything *bout me ter *mind ye o’ a marble statoo? Mebbe ye think all it needs is a few wires ter hol’ my jints in place, an’ I'd be a ginooine Egyptian mummy, wi’ tanned sole-leather fur a cuticle.” Gamin Bob’s tongue ran freely, but he was far from feeling at ease. ‘here was an implacable earnestness about the mysterious men which showed that they meant all they said, and he expected no mercy. dd to this that indefinable dread which all honest people have for knaves who act in secret, and with unlawful means, and it is no injustice to Bob to say that he had never before felt so ill at ease. After some further conversation it wasdecided to use a larger box than the one already spoken of, but as it would take some time to prepare it as Jung wished, they decided to temporarily nail him into the first one. « This was done, despite his struggles. When the boards were fastened above him, he found himself alone and in what would have been total darkness had it not been for a large knot-hole in one side which admitted air and a shaft of light. This opening they did not seem tosee; at least, it was not mentioned. “Wal, b’gosh, hyarI be,” muttered the Bow- ery Boy. ‘I didn’t never s’pect ter git inter sech a fix ez this, though Wrixley says a detec- tive hez ter go through every s’perience knowed ter man afore he kin claim ter be full-blowed member o’ ther craft. Wal, let her twinkle; I reckon B. Bowery, Vidocq & Co. kin stand ther riffle. Our bones ain’t made o’ chalk. On ther hull, ef they send me ter Boston it’ll save ex- pense o’ goin’ thar ter see ’bout them chaps that is workin’ ther gallus ‘scheme ter blow ther Sound steamer to chaos an’ kindlin’-wood, an’ ef ther baggage-smashers don’t set me up on my head, nur the drink in Boston harbor don’t wet me too much, mebbe I kin find Wrixley thar an’ go snucks wi’ him ter save ther steamer. So drive on yer go-cart, Mr. Dynamiter, an’ ther Bowery Badger will hang on till ther tail board bu’sts!” He reclined in the box with his eye at the knot-hole, taking matters as cooliy as possible and watching his enemies. They did not seem in any hurry to arrange the other box, but sat down near the stove and talked earnestly. From their frequent glances toward the box, he suspected that he was the subject of their re* marks. He could hear nothing, however. In this way an hour rolled past and then, once more, a knock sounded at the door. The dynamiters at once showed signs of alarm, and it was not until the knock was re- peered that they found their tongues. Then upré grew alarmed. ‘*The police!” he said, in a frightened whis- er, ‘*‘ Divil a police!” returned Merrigan. ‘‘It is some one who knows us, Oi’ll bet me hat. Try de peep-hole, Ould Frinch Bones.” Dupré could be induced to do so. He was not usually afraid, but the events of the evening had upset him. He finally ventured to the door, and a collo- uy ensued which proved so satisfactory to him that he turned the key. Gamin Bob could not see who entered, but Dupré’s voice arose assuring him he was wel- come, and then he was conducted to the stove. He was thus brought into the boy’s view, and the latter saw a fieshy man of middle age who, he at once decided, was no foreigner. From that time he could see all, but hear nothing. The new-comer shook hands with Jung and Merrigan, who assured him they were glad to see him. ‘* Sit down, Mr. Walkington, sit down,” said Dupré, with extreme politeness. ‘*T will,” replied the visitor. ‘‘I cannot re- main long, but I wish to arrange our little af- fair. Dupré glanced quickly toward the box, ‘‘Speak in a lower voice,” he said, anx- rs ‘“ Why? Is there any one else here?” asked Waikington, turning. ‘“No, no! Zere is no one,” hastily answered Dupré, ‘*Then why such caution? My voice is not a loud one.” “True, Mr. Walkington, true; but you know ze old saying zat walls haveears. Zis matter is von to be spoke silent of, sair.” ‘¢ Just as you say; no one is more anxious for secrecy than myself. My partner, Mr. Goff, It was not until Jung repeated the advice that
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tells me he has made a bargain with you for the dynamite-box.” ‘* He has, sair.” ‘¢ Well, what are the arrangements?” * Just as it vas said between us before, sair. We vill place on ze steamair a box wiz dyna- mite in it, an’ a machine like a clock, so ar- range zat it shall explode at ze hour of four. At zat time ze steamair will be on ze broad Sound of Long Island, and it will go eran ” And Mr. Dupré threw up his hands illus- tratively. ‘* You warrant the box?” ‘*We do, sair. Ef it no bu’st, no pay.” ‘*' You ought to do a good job, with your ex- perience,” and Mr, Walkington glanced around the room. ‘* We do, sair. sair.” ‘Tt seems a trifle hard to blow up a hundred or two passengers on the boat, also,” observed Nobody excels me in zis line, J ung. ** Don’t you approve of it?” sharply demanded. Mr. Walkington. ‘“*Tt is none of my business,” discreetly an- swered Jung. ‘If you can make money, go on. Mr. Walkington smiled, ind his voice was as bland and gentle as ever when he spoke again. ‘*T shall make some money, but these are hard times.” ‘*Weshall ship ze dynamite so zat ze police vill nevaire know where to place ze blame,” con- tinued Dupré. ‘¢ Take common precautions, and I'll be sworn that you'll never be tracked. I have a cat’s- paw in the case; a discharged clerk whom I’ve reéngaged and shall send along. When the steamer is in fragments, and my dupe down among the mermaids, it will be said that he blew up the steamer for revenge.” As the full measure of wily Mr. Walkington’s scheme dawned upon the dynamiters, they laughed in concert, and Dupré pronounced him a second Napoleon and brought a bottle of wine from a corner, which all proceeded at once to sample. Jung gave a toast, ‘‘Here’s to your cat’s- aw!” which was drank with enthusiasm, All this the Bowery Badger saw, though no distinct speech reached his ears. Mr, Walking- ton interested him a good deal, and he eyed him closely, resolved not to forget his broad face. He would have given a good deal to hear what was said. He had not forgotten that the man he had heard plot with the man he called Hank, on the pier, had said that, his partner would call on the dynamiters and arrange the final points about the blowing up of the Sound steamer. Now, here were several dynamiters, and here was a man who looked sleek and comfortable enough to be a merchant. Was he the man mentioned on the pier? Gamin Bob considered the point carefully, and, lacking decisive evidence either way, re- solved to give attention to this corpulent man when he regained his liberty—if he ever did. After some time Mr. Walkington prepared to go, and was escorted out by Dupré with some ceremony. Then the loft was closed, and the three men began working with hammers and saws. They were atsucha point that Bob could see noth- ing, but he suspected that they were preparing the box in which he was to be sent away, and the knowledge was far from pleasant. ‘* B’gosh, I don’t see ther sense 0’ so much red tape. Ef they want ter drown’d me, w’y don’t they jest take me over ter ther East river an’ chuck me in? °*Twould be easier, an’ I’m more at home in local waters. Hows'’ever, I suspect them measly idjits ain’t goin’ ter consult my idees fur a cent.” f It took Jung a long time to get his box ready, and then there was a lull in proceedings, so that } it was well on toward the end of night when the ’ first box was opened and Gamin Bob allowed to rise. ** So yez is still hyar?” said Merrigan, grimly. ““Hyar? Wal, 1 should snicker,” the gamin coolly replied. ‘‘Whar did ye s’pose I was? Settin’ on ther top o’ ther obelisk in ther Park, or runnin’ a ferryboat ter Staten Island? Not any fur Joseph! Look sharp, Mister Man, an’ you'll see me dead ahead wi’ my awful eye on yer fi head, ez ther shark said ter Chris Columbus—you knew Chris, didn’t ye, ole man?” ** Silence!” ordered Jung. ** Wot’s that?—anything good fur ter eat?” **- You want to curb your tongue.” “I’m no hoss-jockey. Don’t git off none 0’ ther measly, demon-oralizin’ turf-talk ter me,” returned irrepressible Bob. ‘* We're about to give you a breakfast.” “Thank ye fur nothin’, I kin pay fur all I eat. ‘* Be still, and let me finish. Woship you by rail at an early hour this morning. The box containing you will reach Boston at seven- thirty in the evening, and be claimed at once by our Boston agents. They will take it out in a boat and sink it in Boston harbor, with you aboard.” ‘* Ho? on, admiral, hol’ on! I ain’t a board, an’ I sha’n’t be a board, an’ you can’t sink me fur no ole lumber. [’m George Wash Winks, alderman an’ liquor-dealer in this hyar free an’ ‘lightened city, an’ you can’t pass me off fur no lumber—not fur Joseph!” ** Sacré !” cried Dupré, ‘“‘ he is von fool. He understands not. e is von escaped idiot, b’gar!” ** Don’t you believe it,” retorted Jung. ‘‘The fellow’s head is longer than you suspect. Boy, let me finish, and then you can put in all of your cheap talk you feel like voicing, but I won't hear. What I want to impress on your mind is the fact that though you must die this evening, you shall be well cared for until then. Hence, we will give you a good breakfast before. being packed.’ ‘Weal, now that’s a kindness w’ot is a kind- ness. ‘T'ain’t ev’ry kind o’ merchandise gits sech ashow. Waltz outyerpervisions. Gimme two dozen eysters, a couple juvenile chickens on toast, a dozen o’ champagne, an’—” ‘¢That’s enough!” harshly interrupted Jung ‘*T were coy gwine fur to add, a bottle o’ cod-liver ile. Please, Mr. Man, throw in ther ile!” Gamin Bob’s manner was as sober as though he meant all he said, but the angry dynamiters would not answer him, Merrigan set out a quantity of plain food, and when invited the prisoner fell to and ate with a relish. Trouble did not affect his appetite, and ae believed in preparing for the fast before im, All this while he was closely watched, despite the fact that the only way of escape was through the windows, and they far above the ground. Dupré sat with a revolver near his hand, and he plainly informed the Bowery Boy that if he tried to escape he would be shot down at once. When Bob had finished eating he was escorted to the box in which he was to make his journey to Boston. The Hollander had worked well and produced an arrangement which justified his claim of pre- vious experience. By his contrivance a resting-place had been made which would certainly not be uncomfort- able until the victim became tired of confine- ment, and holes through the box admitted air. Its general construction was explained to Bob, and then his hands and feet were tied, a scarf bound over his mouth, and he was ready for packing. When one of the trains left New York for Boston that morning a large box went among the other things in the Express car, In the box was the Bowery Boy, tied up like a Christmas turkey, as he expressed it, and having a most undesirable ride. His quarters were not so cramped as might be supposed, and air had thus far been vouchsafed him, but he was in fear of some accident which would shut off the su pl and suffocate him, And thus he was whir ed on toward Boston— on to meet the knaves who were to sink him in the waters of Boston harbor CHAPTER IX. THE LOST TREASURE. Arter her champion, Bob, had left, Sadie Bird settled down to pass the evening alone, She was vrjeerige of quiet tastes, and, though her life about the streets of New York had sharpened both her wits and her tongue beyond the average of her years, she preferred her own room to roaming abroad. When she had eaten her frugal supper she brought out a well-worn book and sat down to pore over it. It was a book of alleged easy words loaned her by Bob, and she was trying to pick up a small education as the gamin had acquired his, by her own efforts. True, in her case, the rough boy was helping her somewhat, but hisforte was not book-teach- Be GA brn oy | Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. 9 ing, and Sadie was laboring on with little help. She really made good progress under the cir- cumstances, for she was quick-witted, but her progress did not keep pace with her boundless ambition, and at the end of the evening she laid the book down with a sigh. ‘*Tt’s awful tangled! I don’t b’lievether man what writ it knowed w’ot he were talkin’ about. ‘W’ot does he mean when he sez, ‘ Mary was pos- sessed o’ great sang froid,’ I wonder? ‘ Froid’ may be Latin fur fried, an’ mebbe she had a good squar’ meal, “* Ag’in, sang froid may be some sort 0’ a dress or bunnit—I dunno. Oh, dear! I wish folkses was borned educated—an’ rich! It’s poo- ty tough to be so poor yer can’t hey no dad nor marm.” She leaned her head on her hand and remain- ed for some time in deep thought, but, when the clock in Mrs. Callahan’s room struck nine, arose and prepared to retire, She sold papers every morning on the street, and was thus obliged to rise early. It was not long after the room was dark before she was asleep. She had devoted a little time to considering what she would do when Christopher Goff had acknowledged her as his niece, but did not think it prudent to build too many air-cas- tles until Goff had done this. Darkness and silence reigned in the room, By and by Sadie dreamed. She thought she was asleep under a tree in a wood, and that a panther was creeping toward her, hungry for blood. All this she saw, but the double under the tree did not stir, but slept on in fatal security. Nearer came the panther; nearer—nearer. Its hot breath touched the sleeper; its jaws almost closed over her shoulder, Then Sadie awoke, She started up with a little cry, and then saw that all her danger had not been a dream. A dim light shone before her ; the light of a ‘‘dark” lantern: and in the light stood a man. The girls of New York who fight the world hand to-hand, inattic and street, from an early age, are not weak and cowardly, and Sadie’s discovery made her more belligerent than alarmed. ‘* See hyar, an old scamp!” she exclaimed, ‘wot are yer doin’ hyar? Git out, or Pll yell!” Not a word answered the man, but he sprun forward with astonishing quickness and clappe his hand over Sadie’s mouth, bearing her tick on the bed. She struggled to the best of her ability, but all in vain, for, as she was dimly aware, a second pair of hands came to the aid of the first, and then a strange odor greeted her nostrils. It was chloroform, pressed tightly against her mouth and nose, and its presence there could not be mistaken. She endeavored to avoid inhaling it. Who these persons were, and what was their purpose, she did not know, but she realized the importance of giving an alarm. It was important, but impossible. The chlo- roform did its work; she lost consciousness. When her senses returned the room was dark and silent, and she lay just as when she fell asleep. A less practical person might have im- agined that all that had gone before was a dream. Not so Sadie. She remembered all, and, springing from the bed, she hurriedly struck a match and started a light. ‘ The room had no occupant besides herself. Whoever had been there had gone, and left no, as yet, perceptible sign behind him. Sadie had no money or jewels to lose, and, knowing there was nothing to tempt ordinary burglars, she was for a few minutes perplexed. The door was locked, but the key lay on the floor instead of in its usual place, and she easily realized that the lock had been picked, but that the intruders, in their retreat, had used the key and then thrust it back under the door. ‘Wal, that ere is sorter queer. Hyar I be, safe an’ sound, an’ no vallables carried off, ’ca’se thar war none ter carry, an’ yit— Wal, I reck- on them measly critters didn’t git no great haul. Hyar’s my forty-one cents safe in my shoe, an’ ther choloroform must ’a’ cost suthin’. Queer perceedin’, all through.” So it did seem at first, but the girl gave a great start as a sudden thought occurred to her. Then she ran quickly to the bed and snatched off the bed-post cap which Bowery Bob had re- moved when he hid Mrs. Bird’s confession in the hollow of the post. One of her hands flashed down the hollow, Then her face grew dismayed. The paper was gone! Yes, the confession of her once-supposed mo-
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10 ther—the document upon which she had relied to prove that she was the niece of Christopher Goff—had disappcared. She stood like a statue for several seconds, her face still wearing the dismayed look. No need of explanation to her. She knew at last what the night-prowlers had taken, and she would not have been the quick-witted girl she was had she failed to believe that it was for the | paper they had come. ‘Chris Goff were at ther bottom on’t; he were, fur sure. Ther mean old miser ain’t will- in’ I should hev w’ot b’longs ter me, an’ this is ther way he takes ter perventit. He’s got ther *fession, an’ I reckon I’ve got a tough row ter hoe now, but ef I don’t yank up ther weeds right lively, [ll let Chris keep all ther bullion. I jest wish I could git my fingers inter his hair!” Sadie doubled her small fist, but it soon oc- curred to her that this was not the way to help her cause. She had been robbed, and it behooved her to make prompt efforts to recover the lost trea- sure. Accordingly she dressed with celerity, left the room and the house. There was no one inside upon whom she could rely, and she knew it. She went at once to a police station, where the sergeant on duty was surprised to see the small apparition which appeared to him. The girl explained, but the sergeant did not show any great enthusiasm. Taken all-in-all, the story sounded to him remarkably like a fic- tion. That such a ragged girl could be the niece of a rich New Yorker seemed impossible, and he decided that it was either a hoax or part of a blackmailing scheme. So Sadie, instead of finding her cause espoused, was directed to go home and call again at ten o’clock in the forenoon. She obeyed, but her steps were slow and heavy. The sergeant had not spoken bluntly, but she realized the truth and suspected that her appeal to the police would come to nothing. Slowly she returned to her room, and there sat down with her chin on her hands, and, look- ing into the flame of her lamp, thought with an earnestness and purpose few girls of her years could approach. ‘*This here ’currence complercates business, an’ I dunno whar ’twill end. Chris hes got a whack at ther biz an’ won a big p’int, an’ how I’m ter meet him I dunno. I wouldn’t give six cents fur all ther p’lice will do fur me, an’ I reckon [ve got ter relyon Bob. He’s got nerve enough, ef only he were a man, or looked like one. That’s ther main pint ag’in’ us; looks is; fur Bob is no baby.” The girl had spoken the truth, and the same remark would also apply to her. She was a child in years, but a woman in experience. There is no educator like poverty and the streets of a great city. The girl who lives such a life is wiser than the woman of fifty who lives a life made up of home experience and occa- sional shopping excursions. A battle for bread Poverty ina great Bev be in the streets of New York! Only those who have had actual experience know what these words imply. How such a life sharpens the wits, eges the brain, makes childhood a myth and wessanhood a dweller in a small body ; how these things are the rich of New York do not know, and the mature woman who lives in some country town until her years are two-score and ten, would find herself a child beside the city child, and the city child a woman beside her, and the real child olderin sharp, bitter expe- rience and worldly shrewdness than herself. Sadie slept no more that night, but as soon as such a thing was possible, set off to find the Badger. She did not find him, though she was soon in conversation with Stumpy. The latter’ face bore a very sober look, and he reported that he had not seen his partner since dark the previous evening. The young de- tective had not been at their humble lodging- house during the night, and as he had last been seen following a drunken man up the Bowery, Stumpy was worried. - Noy but Bob often stays away overnight, but I can’t get used to it. I’m afraid he will get into trouble.” ‘“*T want ter see him awful bad,” explained Sadie. ‘* Where can he be?” Stumpy shook his head. ‘* Might as well guess on a wild bird,” ** ve got ter see him!” Stumpy’s face clouded. ** Are you in trouble?” ce Yes, ” “*Can’t I help you?” Sadie looked astonished at the idea. What, she mentally asked, could a small, lame boy like Stumpy do against Christopher Goff? She left him without explanation, only bid- ding him send Bob around as soon as he ap- peared, and then wandered slowly away. Of course she had no thought of selling papers that morning, and she scarcely knew what she was doing, more than to ‘‘ kill time” when she paused on a street corner and looked at the arti- cles arranged in a show-window with eyes that scarcely saw. She was standing thus when two men came along and paused near her. ** Are ae xoing to the store now, Ballard?” ‘*No, Mr. Jung. My employers have directed me to go to Boston on business for them, and I am just on my way to denart.” ‘**Do you stay long?” **Oh! no; I return to-morrow night.” ** By rail?” ‘No; on a Sound steamer.” : *‘Are Walkington & Goff good men to work for?’ asked Mr. Jung. Sadie had listened listlessly until she heard the names spoken, but she now grew interested and looked at both the speakers more closely. ‘* Very good,” Ballard answered. ‘*Ts their business good?” ‘Very fair,” hesitatingly replied the young man. ‘**T suppose, one of these days, David Ballard wii! be a member of the firm?” ** i don’t expect to live to see that day.” A peculiar smile flitted across Jung’s face. Remembering the can of dynamite he had ar- ranged for passage on the same steamer with Ballard, he was very much of the opinion that Walkington & Goff’s cat’s-paw never would live to see that day; in fact, that he would live to see but few more days, anyway. ‘* Well, I haven’t much time to waste, for I must go over on Broadway and fill an order for some bulubs,” Jung said, aloud; and then he shook hands with David Ballard and both turn- ed away. ‘“*The latter, who carried a small traveling valise, hurried toward the Bowery, for he was already started on that journey which, if Walk- ington & Goff’s plans did not miscarry, was des- tined to send him to eternity with his name blackened by a crime of which he knew nothing. Jung, however, walked only until he was free from observation, and then looked at his watch and sauntered back. Sadie was watching him suspiciously, and when a second man hie and joined him, she listened eagerly. They were just around the corner, and she could hear all. ** You’re late, Hank,” said Jung. **So I be, but I’ve been busy.” * Doing what?” **'You can’t guess.” ‘* Well, tell me, then.” **Pve been doin’ a job fur ther ole man.” Dupré?” ‘* Nonsense; no. I mean Goff.” **Hush! Not so loud.” ‘* Ther’ ain’t no danger.” ‘*Caution is never thrown away. But what did you do for Goff?” ‘* A bit o’ housebreakin’.” ** Tf Sadie had been interested before, she was doubly interested now, and her face began to glow with excitement. ** A bit of housebreaking for Goff!” The words could not help raising a well-de- fined suspicion in her mind, and she looked ea- eerly fora policeman. None was in Sight. ** Where was the work done?” asked Jung. ‘*That’s tellin’, boss. You an’ me are good friends, but I can’t a’ford ter hang myself. Phat Goff is a gallus bird, though, now, you bet yer boots.” ** And rich,” ** Jest so.” ‘* Well, Merrigan—” ** Call me Hank.” “Twill, What I want to say to you is that we have a fine chance to bleed Mr. Christopher Goff. His faith in Dupré has led to his placing himself squarely in our power in the dynamite affair, and now, with this fresh grip, we have the bulge on him. } ‘*Of course, Dupré won’t join us, but I can see more money in bleeding him than in sell- ing bulubs. at say—shall we unite to bleed him?” Hank’s face bore a very thoughtful expres- sion, but as he looked past Jung he caught sight of Sadie peering around the corner. Instantly he sprung forward like a flash, | and beforo she couldretreat, his hand was on her shoulder. Jung followed more moderately. ‘¢ What’s this?” he nervously asked. ‘* A spy who has heerd all we said,” answered Hank, with an oath. ‘‘ Curse her, she’ll ruin us. No, she won’t; Tl strangle her on the spot!” ; And his fingers closed over the girl’s neck. CHAPTER X. REMARKABLE FREIGHT. A WAGON was rattling through one of the nar- row streets of Boston in that famous region known as ‘‘ The Cove ”—the Boston parallel for Baxter street and vicinity. The hour was somewhat after dark, and The Cove was as quiet as it ever is. Business was suspended, and the night-owls of the dingy streets had not yet come forth to pollute the sidewalks with their presence. The wagon before mentioned was drawn by a heap of bones covered with a white hide. Peo- ple of a facetious turn of.mind called this draw- er a horse. In the wagon was a box, and on this box were two men who looked as though they had been kept on the same fare as the horse, and no bet- ter used. The wagon reached the N, Y. & N. E. depot, and then, striking Atlantic avenue, rolled north- ward for some distance, turned to the left, and finally drew up at a house on Richmond street. Two other men came out, and the four then carried the box into the house and deposited it in a large, poorly-furnished room. The wagon-men left, while the others looked attentively at the box. ‘* Wonder ef he’s alive?’ said one. ‘Probably. Jung knows his business, for he’s shipped many a man in Europe. He’s not going to slop over at this late day.” ‘* Pll be hanged if I should covet the ride.” ‘*You would kick if you had a coach-and- four. Let us open, the cage and see what we have. Get a hammer.” ‘* Here it is.” ‘*¢ Allright; now for the boy.” The speaker attacked the cover of the box, drew nails and pried off boards, and in a short time it was removed, but no boy was yet visible. He had to uncover a framework, and in the middle was seen a human form. After some labor it was taken out, and Gamin Bob lay bound on the floor, the bandage still over his mouth, but with eyes as keen as ever. ‘* He’s allright, you see.” ‘¢ Wal, he must ’a’ had a jolly ride.” The other man stooped and removed the bandage. ‘* How are you, boy?” he asked. Gamin Bob moved his jaws several times, as though to lubricate them, before he answered: ‘* Boss,” he then said, ‘‘ I’m well, an’ powerful glad fur ter see yer. Shake!” ‘* Don’t be in arush. Those cords are to stay on your wrists.” ‘* How kin I feed myself?’ the prisoner de- manded, in assumed surprise. ‘You can’t. You won’t need any food to- night, and after that—well, we’il see if you are hungry in the morning.” ** Ha! ha! ha!” The second man (es in a hoarse laugh at this significant i ut the Bowery boy looked at him scornfully. ‘*You laugh like a hoss, you do!” he ‘said. ** Don’t ye sling on too much style though, fur I’m onter all ther p’ints in this game. Dupre Jung & Co. tole me ther hull riffle, an’ I know I’m ter be tooken ter ther harbor an’ drownded, ef ye kin find water enough. W’oton’t? Folks hes b’en drownded afore, ain’t they? W’ot are ye snortin’ at, yer freckled-faced ape? ’Sides, w’ot ef I am ter be drownded? Is that any rea- son why I should ’buse my stomach while ther lamp holds out ter‘burn? Not fur Joseph! Trot out yer breadstuffs, you chaps, and let me fill up | my treasury department.” ‘ Well, you’re a cool one,” declared the leader of the men, ‘‘and it shall beas yousay. Bring a good supper, Trott,” he man went away growling, while the leader released his prisoner. As he did so, he noticed the boy’s muscular development, and thought best to draw a revolver and caution him not to attempt resistance or escape. “Go ’way!” Gamin Bob retorted. ‘‘D’ye spose I’d cut stick afore gittin’my grub? Nixy! ot fur Joseph! A still, small voice wi’in me is a-cryin’ from ther desert wilderness 0’ my stum- jack for quail on toast, an’ ther voice shows mighty good jedgment. Slide in here, Mr.
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+ | } H eh: il t Trott, an’ you’ll cachinnate fur ter obsarve how I'll slaughter venison an’ Winnipeg b’ar. Can’t yer git me a del’cate roast from a rhinoceros’s horn, Mr. Gallop?” The last words came indistinctly, as the hun- gry lad attacked the food, and he said no more until he had won a notable victory and cleaned off all Trott brought. He then turned and waved his hand to the leader. ‘‘ For which let us be duly grateful. W’ot temporal appellation shall I harness up w’en I a’dress ye by name?” ‘*Call me Brown.” ‘* Wal, Brown, le’s go out an’ do ther town.” “o Eb 9) 7 ‘¢Le’s go out wi’ our little hatchet, an’ paint Boston red, like as G. Washington did.” ‘* You forget that you’re a prisoner.” 3 You ain’t, be you?” ‘ 7 ‘*Wal, you kin be my sponsor, as ’twere, an’ pilot me round whar ther Pilgrim Fathers land- ed an’ hung a witchin 1478. Brown, I hanker ter see them Pilgrims! Whar is ther tree? Waltz out ther witch! Lemme ’zamine ther rope!” ** Boy, you talk too much!” ‘* Recollect that my jaws hev been inter hock ever sence this mornin’ afore sun-up. Give ’em ashow now. Say, w’ot’s this box? The young detective’s keen eyes had caught sight of a small box at ove side, whi¢h was made of tin, or covered with some substance which looked like it. He moved toward the box, but Brown sprung up as though suddenly alarmed. ‘* Hold on! Don’t touch that!” ‘*Why not?” **T say, letitalone! Isn’t that enough? “*T s’pose so, but I can’t see why you are so darned pertic’lar’bout an ole box. Lemme kick it once, jest fur luck!” He moved forward again, but Brown caught him by the arm in unmistakable alarm and flung him back. ‘* Keep off!” he ordered. ‘‘Do you want to blow us all to eternity, you fool?” ‘*Eh? W’ot’s that? How’d J blow us ter thin atmosphere?” Brown hesitated, and showed some annoy- ance. ‘‘Never mind,” he said, curtly. ‘“‘Just you let things alone, or you'll fare badly. Come into the next room.” He still held his revolver, and as the muzzle was pointed toward the gamin, the latter did not think best to make any attempt: to escape. He was, however, resolved not to remain in the hands of the dynamiters to be drowned. He had already had enough of their style during his experience in the dry-goods case. As for the small box which Brown would not allow him to kick, he believed he had made a discovery there. A piece of, paper was pasted on the top and bore an address, which was that of some one in New York. : Considering Brown’s alarm, the sharp-witted New York lad believed that the box held the dynamite with which the gang intended to Sow up the Sound steamer. “Ef that’s ther fact, ’m right onto ther riffle like a fly arter ‘lasses. B'gosh, ef I kin git outer quod, I’ll make ther dynamiters dance ther Devil’s Dream in a skip, hop an’ jump. We'll see!” He found the next room to be asmaller one, and there he was made to sit down. He was not re-bound, though Brown once took up the old cords. He laid them down again, smiling at the idea of a boy escaping from two men. Gamin Bob made himself at home and talked continually, and after a little experience he was able to select his language so as to amuse his captors. e asked at what hour he was to be drowned, how it was to be done, if the water was cold, whether he stood any chance of being swallowed by a whale, as Jonah was, if the walking was as good in the harbor as in the Red Sea, and nu- merous other pertinent questions. Both Brown and Trott were influenced by his manner, and the latter so far forgot his first wrath at being called ‘‘ Gallop” that he declared that it wasa shame to kill such a boy. An hour passed in this way, and then the leader went to answer a ring at the door-bell, leaving Trott to guard the prisoner. In itself this was no gain, however, for the wary dynamiter kept the revolver always bear- ing on the boy. Brown and his caller entered the larger room and began to talk. Gamin Bob was nearer the partition than Trott, and he could overhear what the latter could not—the wordsof the oth- er men. The last comer was called ‘‘ Doc,” and seemed to be a man of Brown’sown kidney. More than this, the New York spy had his suspicions con- firmed and learned beyond a shadow of doubt that the small box in the other room was that de- signed to blow up the Sound steamer, t was to be set, with its clock arrangement, so that it would explode in mid-Sound, and, be- ing marked ‘‘ Glass—handle with care!” there was little danger of its being broken by concus- sion before the propér time. Gamin Bob heard Dupré, Jung and Merrigan mentioned frequently in this conversation, but not a word yet revealed the fact that it was Walkington & Goff who were back of the vil- lainous scheme. After a while this visitor left and then Brown rejoined Bob and Trott. Then the brave boy opened squarely and tried to persuade the man to let him go, relying chiefly on the fact that he had already made a good impression. His arguments proved unavailing, however; Brown -unwaveringly declared that he should carry out the orders he had received. In this determination he remained firm, though he acknowledged that the work was un- pleasant. He seemed to be more of a man than the other dynamiters, and the gamin wondered what had led him into such bad company. He suspected that nothing but fear of the con- re sa of treachery kept him in union with them. Brown stated that Dupré was at the head of the business, and that they had no connection with political or other parties. They simply made dynamite as a business, but their operations were secret, and nearly all the stuff was sold for nefarious purposes. Several hours passed, a period during which the boy was on the alert for a chance to escape, but the precautions taken by his captors proved sufficient to keep him, At about midnight Trott brought in more food and drink, of which all partook, and it was not long before the Bowery boy began to feel strangely sleepy. Tt flashed upon his mind that he had been drugged, and he made a desperate effort to rise, but his limbs seemed made of lead and he could not move. Then he seemed to float away in space and lost consciousness. Two hours later the same wagon which had brought the box to the house, drove away down Richmond street. Three men sat on the box, and in the bottom of the vehicle lay something which looked like a sack of potatoes, or some thing of the sort. They drove east, meeting with good luck in avoiding policemen, until a wharf not far from the South Ferry was reached. Here they sprung out, the sack was lifted from the wagon, aot one man drove away with the wagon. The others carried their burden along the wharf until the water was reached. Here one of them looked over, and seeing a boat rocking just below him, whistled softly. “Ts it you?” asked a subdued voice. “Yes. Shall we lower the sack?” ‘*Of course. Down with it!” The sack was lowered, the men followed, and then he who had occupied the boat dipped oars and pulled away. ‘* Have you a stone to tie to it?” a new-comer asked. ‘* Ay, that I have; stone enough to sink a dozen boys!” CHAPTER XI. THE BADGER TAKES A BATH. It was a sinister-looking party, and sinister work was ahead. In the sack was Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger, and the men intended to sink him in the deep water of the harbor. Brown and Trott were in charge, and if their consciences troubled them they concealed the fact need net (4 : They had been ordered to sink the prisoner, and they intended to do it. The boatman picked his way through the thin line of shipping, and then rowed Spoldly away toward the southeast. The night was dark; a fit time for the deed they had in hand; and there seemed absolutely no hope for the Bowery Badger. Silence reigned in the boat, and they went for several minutes, the oars gliding through the water with the smooth ripple peculiar to them when pulled by a skillful waterman. Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. © 11 Finally he came to a halt. ‘*W'ot’s the use o’ goin’ furder?” he asked. “Play is play, an’ work is work. Shall I break my back here an’ no good for’t? No! Dump yer cargo here; you'll tind no better place.” ‘¢ Perhaps it’s as well,” admitted Brown. ‘Course it is! Hyar’s yer stone; hitch it round ther sack an’ dump it.” The sack lay at the forward end of the boat, and Brown had been seated at the stern. He now passed the boatman, picked up the weight which was designed to drag Bob to a watery grave, and turned to the bag. He laid one hand on it, paused, fumbled has- tily, and then uttered an oath. ‘ What’s ther row?” asked the boatman, ** The bag’s empty |” *¢ Empty?” ‘¢- Yes, empty as an ole hat-box!” The boatman had sprung up, and he now caught hold of the bag. Sure enough, there was nothing in it, and he held it up at arm’s length with a very blank face. ‘Where ther fiend is ther boy?” he demanded. Instantly a cool, nonchalant voice sounded a few feet away, seeming to come from the water itself: ‘‘Hyar I be, ole stock, a-takin’on ther bath you was so kind ez ter ship me all ther way from New York ter git. I got sorter impatient, an’ come in fur ter wash on my own hook, d’ye see.” ‘* He’s escaped!” cried Trott. ‘Not. yet!” added Brown. ‘‘ Quick, Sam; oars, and pull for him. We'll have him yet.” ‘Bout ther same time yer hev a mermaid by ther hair,” scoffed the cool voice from the wa- ter. ‘‘ You kin snap yer vertebra, yer gallus land-sharks, but yer can’t hev this chile fur a burnt off’rin’—not fur Joseph!” By this time Sam had the oars, and he made a swift charge for the boy, but, while all three men were looking sharply along the surface of the water, a jeering laugh arose behind them. ‘¢ Ha! ha! my dandy crooks, don’t yer wish ye could spell a-b-l-e? You kin splash ther drink all ter foam an’ chaos, but yer can’t hev me. Go home an’ put yerselves on ice. You won’t keep in this hot weather. ‘* Put ther three on ye in a crate, an’ ye’d mold like peaches. Comin’ ag’in? Sorry, but I can’t wait. Got pressin’ biz elsewhar. Call ’round some day when trade slacks up, an’ Pll ache yer ear off.’ The words arose at irregular intervals, and from several different places, for the boatman was pulling lustily toward wherever the voice sounded, but always arriving too late, and just in time to hear the voice from some other quar- ter. This angered the boatman, and he swore lust- ily, while Brown, standing erect in the boat, held his revolver ready for use and vainly tried to sight the dare-devil lad. Bob, as much at home in the water as a fish, was having his share of the fun at last, and as he heard the dismayed exclamations of the trio, he gained a good deal of satisfaction for his past troubles. He intended to get more; he knew more about. the gang than was healthy for them, and he proposed to work the claim for all it was worth, When he had had what he considered enough fun at their expense, he headed for the nearest point of land and began swimming swiftly away. How had he escaped? This is easily explained. The drug administered to him was not as powerful as his enemies supposed, and he recov- ered consciousness while on the journey in the wagon. Suspecting the state of affairs, he began to work his bonds without betraying the fact that he was conscious, and, after a sharp struggle, Succeeded in freeing his hands. After that the rest was easy, but, just as he got loose, the wharf was reached, and then he had to wait for awhile. When the party entered the boat he was plac- ed forward near the rock which was destined to carry him down to the bottom of the harbor, and then, to preserve the equilibrium of the boat, Brown and Trott took their places at the stern. This was, of course, rash, but they had no suspicion that their prisoner was conscious. After that the darkness aided him, and he se- cured and opened his pocket-knife and cut the bag. Next he crawled carefully out and took to the water, and by the time the men were ready to sink him he was well away. a — eee
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’ fa 12 Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. He now swam briskly and soon landed on a dark wharf, from which he made his way to a neighboring street. Being a stranger in the city he had no idea where he was, but, finding a policeman, learned that it was East Boston. The officer was curious to know how he had received such a ducking, but the Gamin declined to explain, though he readily accepted the blue- coat’s offer to conduct him to a house where he could spend the few remaining hours of the night. This proved to be the home of a poor and honest family, the members of which were only too anxious to help him. All he wanted, how- ever, was a chance tosleep. He went to bed, and when he awoke the clock was pointing to the numerals VIII. Gamin Bob soon decided on his course. ‘*Pve got to look up Wrixley, ef he’s ter be found, an’ ef he ain’t, I must paddle my own canoe, go back ter New York on ther steamer w’ot them crooks mean fur ter blow ter chaos an’ kindlin’ wood, an’ pervent ther racket goin’ off. Fu’st, I must hev some dude clothes, so I kin pass myself off ez a blue-blooded nabob o’ high degree.” t was not hard to get the garments, for he had thirty dollars concealed in his old clothes, and he went to a store and bought a neat, though — suit, which made a very different-looking - of him. e then set out to find Wrixley, his New York detective friend. Lacking any clew to Wrixley’s stopping- place, he knew of but one way to find him; so he began a circuit of the Boston hotels to see if his name was on a register. He did not find the name, nor did he find any one who had seen a man ee Wrixley. This was a dampener, but the Badger would not give up so easily. He called on the superin- tendent of police, and asked if he knew Wrix- ley. Unfortunately, he was not known, and as the Boston official was very busy, his manner was not such as to encourage the Bowery Boy, who had never had good luck with police offi- cials, to relate his story. ‘*Tt’s clear ez mud that ’'m stumped, and I’ve got ter circumnavigate on my own hook. Ef ther steamboat is saved I’m ther flat-nosed crocodile that’ll do it, while ef ther measly old craft is blowed up among ther heavenly spears, B. Bowery, E-squire, will go “long wi’ it, an’ mebbe knock a hole plum’ outer ther moon. Ef this melancholy a’fair takes place won’t Sadie an’ Stumpy shed salt, sad tears? Poor kids, it'll leave ’em orphans!” Gamin Bob shook his head to express his sym- pathy for his young friends, and then made his way to the depét, where he bought a ticket for the port on the south shore where the imperiled steamer received her passengers from the con- necting railroad and plowed the Sound on her way to New York. e arrived with a well-defined purpose, and lost no time in executing it. He remembered that the captain of the boat was named Berk- rode, and he at once inquired where he was to be found. He was found in a saloon, with two other men, three pipes and three glasses of beer. The New York boy walked coolly up to him and requested an interview, but the mariner glared at him sourly. He wasa big man, with a sort of bulldog head, and he showed his nature at once. ‘* What d’ye want?” he growled. ‘“*T want ter orate ter ye in perivate. Got *portant biz fur yer own ear, an’ nobody else’s ear. *€ You look like it!” ** Took like w’ot?” ‘* As though you had important business.” ‘* My benev’lent frien’, don’t yer bet too high onachap’s looks. Jes’ ez like ez not my phyz- ognomy ain’t a classic one, nur cale’lated ter hush howlin’ babies—I hope ’tain’t that kind, b’gosh! but I kin unfold words o’ wisdom that measure twenty quarts ter ther gallon.” Despite the earnestness of the appeal, it was not until he had growled a good deal more that Captain Berkrode would condescend to go to one side. When he did go, it was in ill-hzmor. Bob paid no attention to his growling. He was there to save the steamer, and he intended to do it if such a thing was possible. In plain, pointed words he told the captain what danger menaced him. Of course all the small items of the case could not be detailed, but he stated plainly that, unless measures were taken to prevent it, the steamer would be blown up that night in mid-sound. And the captain? He laughed at the statement, and then smote a table with his fist. ‘You poor fool!” he cried, ‘‘d’ye suppose you can spin such a yarn and get me to believe it? Not much! You are the nine-hundredth chap who has told me some lie within a year to get a free passage to New York.” ‘*'You jest hold yer hosses!” retorted Bob. “Ef you think ther ondersigned can’t pay his way, jest you rest yer two eyes on these hyar greenbacks. Twelvedollars! Ain’tthatenough ter git a ride on yer measly old tub ’thout beg- ging it?” P ‘* Put up your money and Carry a civil tongue or I’) knock you silly!” roared the captain. **Who said you hadn’t any money? Not I! What I did say was that you were trying to beat your way to New York, and I say so now.” A sharp retort trembled on Bob’s tongue, but he kept it back. ‘*Cap’n Berkrode, ef nothin’ but yer boat was in danger I’d drop this hyar caucus jest whar *tis, but thar will be ten-score passengers on ther craft, I s’pose, an’I can’t see’em go ter chaos an’ kindlin’-wood ’thout openin’ my jaw. I’ve gi’n yer a clean bill o’ health, an’T ask yer in ther name 0’ humanity not ter scoff my warnin’ ter scorn.” ‘*' Young man, do you see that door?” “cc Yes. ” ** Well, latch it on the outside.” **'W’ot am I ter understan’ by—” ‘*-You’re to understand that your fish-stories won’tgo down. I’ve seen justsuch smart chaps as you before, and I know how to deal with you. Blow up a Sound steamer! Stuff and rubbish! —you are the most audacious liar I’ve seen in my experience on the line. Get out of my sight before I fling you out. I’m character-reader enough to mark you asa New York tough, and you're very likely a sneak-thief. Get out of aon or T’ll call an officer and have you arrested. it CHAPTER XII. A SURPRISE ALL AROUND. THE Bowery Boy’s face was a picture. Captain Berkrode’s words were not in them- selves anything to trouble him; similar words had often been flung at him, and-never had he been at a loss for reply. He was not at a loss now, but his earnest de- sire to save the steamer and her passengers, if not her cargo, led him to stand before Berkrode with a meekness foreign to him, only his face telling how hard it was to keep back the ready retort he might have flung at the stiff-necked captain. urbing his wrath he made still another ef- fort to move the man, but Berkrode rushed at him, and he was under the necessity of beating a hurried retreat. Escaping, he stood outside with a ludicrous expression on bis face. ‘Wal, b’gosh! I’ve seen more measly idjits o’ late than ever afore. This hyar ancient mari- ner is wuss than a mule. He won’t hear ter reason when ther werry essence on’t is poured gently in his ear. Trouble wi’ him is, he’s got too much ears! Sorter wants his old tub 0’ a boat ter go rick’shayin’ ‘long on Boreas’s wings, an git knocked silly ag’in’ ther moon, I’ reckon. Wal, I dowt! ‘* Thar willbe hooman beings on that thar boat, an’ they’ve got ter be saved. How? It all de- ponte on B. Bowery, Vidocq & Co., an’ I never 1ad sech a complercated complercation since I went inter detective biz. W’ot kin I do ter save ’em?” Tbe Gamin scowled till his forehead looked like a ruffled sea in a stout breeze, but even then he did not see his way clear. ‘*Hev I got ter go “long on that steamboat, w’ot is dcomed ter be bu’sted? Must I put my- self up ez a raffle, ez ’twere, an’ be blowed inter chaos an’ kalsomime jest ter ’lustrate ther doc- trine o’ detective fidelity? ‘* Not fur Joseph! I ain't goin’ ter be torn from my parent limb an’ rent shaggy by dy- namite, ter ’bleege nobody. Not fur Joseph, b’gosh!” n making this praiseworthy decision he did not by any means decide to abandon the boat to her fate. He intended to save her, and he expected to go along with her, But how? This was the rub, and he remained in deep thought for several minutes, when his face sud- denly brightened. ‘* That’s ther identical way fur ter do it!” he exclaimed. He walked off toward where the steamer lay at her pier, and in a short time was in conversa- | tion with two of the deck-hands who were loi- tering about. Their conversation seemed to be of no impor- tance, and Bob did not once hint that danger menaced the boat, but he knew what he was about. His object was to gain the good will of the men, and by his shrewd, good-humored remarks he soon succeeded perfectly. They thought him a very odd character, and took pleasure in leading him on to talk, little suspecting that he was laying wires deeper than they. When he thought he had gained a good hold on them he left, first informing them that he should make the trip to New York with them that night. ** An’ Pll do it, too,” the Gamin muttered, as he walked away. ‘‘Likeez not Ill git blowed up, but ’twould be a great send-off, anyhow, an’ IT reckon Tl ship; though, fur that matter, I don’t mean ter fracture no stars this eve—not fur Joseph. Ef my scheme works, ther measly ole steamer will ride ther billers like a crocodile. We'll see!” He went and obtained a supper, and then passed the evening until the time when the Bos- ton train was due as best he could. The train came; a mass of passengers flocked aboard the steamer; and then a fiendish racket followed as the baggage and freight were trans- ferred. Before this was done Gamin Bob had pur- chased a ticket for New York, and was safely mixed with the other passengers. He made no talk with any of them, and, since he had obtained his new clothes, there was noth- ing about him to make him noticeable among the others. Nevertheless, he kept out of sighf as much as ssible, for he did not know what Captain erkrode might do if he found him aboard. In due time all preliminaries were arranged and the steamer left the pier. Bob gazed back at the solid land, which had never lookec. so safe and pleasant, and won- dered what would be the result of his venture. Would the boat be blown to fragments, tak- ing him along skyward, or would his latest plan save them all? He waited until the steamer was well away from land, and everybody nad settled down for a quiet voyage, and then made his way down to the hold. This was a place very different from the cabin, and other sales of the craft devoted to the pas- sengers. Boxes, bales and barrels were huddled at the sides; the stamp of horses sounded occa- sionally ; and the few people visible were coarse- ly dressed. Among them the New York lad saw one of ‘the men with whom he had made friends on the pier, and as he was cordially greeted, he did not miss the chance to talk. ‘* Got a pile o’ freight, ain’t ye?” he asked. ‘* Yes; the biggest lot we’ve had at any one time since I have been in the business.” ‘*S’pose ther New York business houses hez a good ’eal sent over yer line?” ** Piles of it.” ‘* Who patronizes yer ther most?” “Oh, r don’t know; though Walkington & Goff take the cake on this cargo.” Bob started. “Who?” ‘*Walkington & Goff.” ‘*O’ Leonard street?” “Ves.” ‘* You don’t say so!” *¢ But I do. hy? Do you know them?” ‘*T’ve heerd tell on ’em; ’specially o’ Christo- pher Goff. Yes, rather! So they’ve got a pile o’ stuff aboard?” ‘* Over half of all the cargo; all those fresh- looking cases over there are theirs.” ** ‘Who stands next?” ‘*T don’t know. Nobody else has any great amount on board this trip. Walkington & Goff seem to have taken a mighty spurt in business.” ad Um ! Bob thrust his hands into his pockets, shut one eye and looked meditatively into the dark- ness. He had decided that by asking these questions he could learn the narne of the schem- ing firm who proposed to blow the steamer to eternity for a few thsusand blood-stained dol- ars. He had asked the question, and the answer had been—Walkington & Goff. ‘¢ Sorter takes me by s’prise, though it are jes’ ther kind o’ a high-toned cut-throat I took Chris we SL gh ee so
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—_— _ You see, ter be. fur Joseph. Wal, now, ef I kin save this vessel from gettin’ blowed up, mebbe I won’t hev a grip on Chris! He’llacknowledge Sadie Bird, or git ther wu’st case o’ knockin’-out heerd on this Money don’t make folkses honest—not era. Bet yer slippers.” After a few minutes the young detective be- gan wandering idly around among the freight. Somewhere there was the dynamite-charged can which was expected to blow them all to eternity. As it was not at all likely any of the gang had come along on so deadly a journey, it seemed probable that if he could get his hands on the can and throw it overboard the steamer would be saved. He had noted the appearance of the box too well to be long at fault, and he found it perch- ed on top of some softer substances as seemed fit for an article marked as glass, as this was. **Hyar you be, you gallus critter! Look in- nercent enough, don’t yer? ‘Glass,’ hey? Wal, I should smile! Ef yer ain’t ther most ’busti- ble glass J ever see’d, I’m a dirt-coated Sioux chief wi’ a forked tongue.” Had circumstances been favorable, the young boy detective would have promptly disposed of the thing as he had planned; but other eyes were on him, and he saw that he must wait. If the clock in the box was set for the hour of four he still had plenty of time if nothing went wrong. ‘‘That’s jest ther rub,” muttered Bob, with a shiver. ‘‘Ther darned ole clock may be no good, an’ git ahead o’ ther schedule, in which case we're liable ter go sailin’ through ther ether any minute. We're stannin’ on ther brink 0’ a volcaner, as ’twere, an’ ther werry air is full 0’ ghosts an’ goblins, mebbe, waitin’ ter scoop usin. Wonder ef ther deck-hands would b’lieve me any more than that crabbed ole cap’n did, ef I was ter sing my ditty in their ears?” He considered, this point for some time, and finally decided to sound them go ‘**Tll see how many feet ter ther yard they be afore I divulge fully, though.” He turned away, and was proceeding toward the men, when looking ahead, he chanced to observe some one at sight of whom he came to a full stop. His face expressed surprise, and well it might. Unless he was greatly mistaken the man was Jason Stonerod, the detective he had seen in Wrixley’s office when he first called to secure the latter’s aid. ; Whether he was right he could not say posi- tively, for the man no sooner saw him than he dodged out of sight behind a corner, ~ A look of suspicion crossed Bob’s face. As will be remembered he did not have any too an opinion of Mr. Stonerod, and as he re- membe the latter’s anxiety to know about the object of his visit to Mplteea? 3 it struck him as peculiar that Stonerod shoul be there and so anxious to avoid notice. ‘“* B’gosh, I'll know whether ’tis him, anyhow!” muttered the Gamin; and he was hurrying away when he came face to face with some one so un- mistakably familiar of face and form that he nan paused. ae fresh encotnter was with David Bal- lard. They looked at each other in mutual surprise for a moment. It was the Badger who found his tongue first. ‘* Hello, be you here?” 4s ‘*T certainly am,’’ Ballard good-humoredly re- plied, ‘‘ but I am not so sure abcut you. I never thought to see the Badger on a Sound steamer, and in such good shape.” ‘¢ Clothes don’t count, fur they is onl arments o’ a day, but w’ot in ther world oin’ here?” ‘Taking a ride.” ‘¢ Don’t evade ther interrogatory, Davy! Why ain’t yer in Walkington & Goff’s orfice?_ Be yer bounced?” “ No.” “Then w’ot be yer doin’ hyar?” “Tm on new work for awhile.” ““What work?” the boy persisted. “Simply guarding goods across the Sound. Walkingotn & Goff send valuable ar- ticles over this line—silks, laces, and so on—and I go along to see that the goods travel safely.” b’s eyes had expanded to a large size. ** You oa hey? nce when?” ** This is my first trip.” ‘**How did yer happen ter begin?” Ballard looked annoyed. ** Aren’t you a little too inquisitive, Bob?” he ther you asked. ‘* Not by a blamed sight—not fur Joseph!” the New York boy replied. ‘‘ Thar’s a gallus scheme Gamin Bob, the Bowery Badger. afoot, an’ I smell a hundred-pound mice. Say, was thar anything queer *bout ther way W. & G. put yer on ther job?” “Why do you ask?” seriously questioned David. ‘*‘°Cause ef thar was, it may be a matter o’ life an’ death ter yer ter hear w’ot I’ve got ter say. I’m onter ther measliest conspriracion. ye ever heern on, an’ I want yer ter say right out plump if your bosses have any grudge ag’in’ yer, or would nat’rally want yer blowed ter chaos an’— Gamin Bob was interrupted. A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and a harsh voice sounded in his ear: ‘* Boy, you are my prisoner! Your little game fs up and I arrest you in the name of the aw CHAPTER XIfl. COUNTING THE SECONDS. GAMIN Bos had no need to be told who spoke. He recognized the voice at once, and, turning, looked coolly at Captain Berkrode. The officer’s face was angry, and he gave the boy a shake. ‘* You wretched little scoundrel!” he cried; ‘**T have a good mind to throw you overboard.” ‘* You’d better sp’ile a good mind this time, ef yer want ter eat hash in New York ter-morrer or any time afore Gabriel’s drill-day,” retorted the unabashed lad. ‘** None of your back-talk!” ‘* Mebbe you run my tongue, an’ mebbe not. But, ter come right down ter ther cast-iron, cop- per-toed faxsof thercase—did 1 hear yer openin’ ad’ress co’rect?” ‘*T said you were my prisoner.” ‘* Jes’so. Wal, wher’fore an’ why?” ‘* Because you’re a thief !” “T be? ’ot hev I perloined?” ‘* Nothing aboard this craft, for the good res- son that you have not had time. Thanks to in- formation I have received, you will have no chance,” ‘*Infermation from who?” ‘* A gentleman passenger.” ‘* By ther name o’—what?” ‘* He gave no name, and will not to you, but he knows what you are in New York—a thief— end I shall hand you over to the New York po- ice. ‘* Captain,” interrupted David Ballard, earn- estly, ‘‘I feel sure you are mistaken. I have known this boy for two years, and have reason to believe that he is an honest, industrious and trustworthy lad.” “Sir,” said Berkrode, stiffly, as he touched his cap, ‘‘my information is unimpeachable, and I am not in need of more witnesses.” ** But, captain—” ‘*Excuse me, sir,” still more harshly, ‘‘ but those who speak for this young scamp only lay themselves liable to suspicion. My information is perfectly reliable.” ‘*Tt’sa mistake ,” asserted Bob. ‘‘ Besides Dave, here, there ain’t another galoot on ther steamer that knows me—” He paused suddenly. He had remembered the man whom he had thought was Jason Stonerod! Then, like a flash, came other recollections. Stonerod had been anxious that Bob should confide in him, and the boy had left a letter in Wrixley’s office which, though it told nothing plainly, was enough to have set the other detec- tive on the track if he had been dishonest enough to open the letter and use the hints therein con- veyed. The street scout’s old distrust of the man re- turned with redoubled force, and he felt almost sure that Stonerod was himself aboard the boat and trying to work up the case; and that it was to remove a rival that he had made a trumped- up charge against the boy. ¥ ; “Say,” cried the latter, ‘‘ jest give me one squint at that chap, will yer? I want ter see him powerful bad, and it’ll settle a p’int—” ‘You can’t see him.” ‘* Wal, is his name Stonerod?” “IT tell you that you shall know nothing. Enough that you are nipped in the bud, and your power to‘ work’ this boat gone. I'll put you through for it, too.” He started to drag the boy away, but Bob held back stoutly. ‘Wait, will yer? D’ye remember w’ot I said ter you in ther saloon this arternoon?” ‘* Yes, I do; and I knew you had some scheme afoot then. You wanted the run of the boat, did you, you scoundrel?” “No, I'didn’t; but I wanted ter save you an’ ther boat from bein’ blowed ter chaos an’ kind- 13 lin’-wood by measly dynamite. Thar’s a box hyar which—” ‘Oh, come! Enough of this nonsense. Ihave ou foul, and all your arts can’tsave you. The ew York police will take care of you.” ‘* No, they won’t; not fur Joseph! Thar won't be ernough o’ me ter feed a lame cat on ef that dynamite ain’t headed off. Say,can’t yer hol’ on till I tell my story? I don’t want you ’n’ me ter be blowed up, fur you ain’t fit ter die, an’ I’d be an awful loss ter ther world. Say, gimme three gentlemen ter hear my story, an’ then ef | you don’t b’lieve—” Half of this speech had been made as Bob was being dragged away, and all his efforts to say anything more were unavailing. Berkrode held fast, and his superior strength rendered the Bowery Boy’s efforts unavailing. Once David Ballard started forward with the intention of interfering, but other employees gathered around Bob, and he saw that any in- terference would be useless then, As the previous conversation had taken place where it did, it had attracted the attention of few besides the employees of the steamer, and Berkrode succeeded in conducting his prisoner to his new quarters without the passengers sus- pecting the state ot affairs. He had previously arranged to put him in one of the ‘‘ outside” state-rooms which, owing to a recent accident, was not in condition for occu- pancy by a passenger. To this place Bob was led, with Berkrode and two other hands for a guard. The captain lit the lamp which hung in a bracket, and then turned to the boy. The latter was keeping very quiet, for he thought the best way to impress the officer was to wait until he could speak with few witnesses. ‘*This will be your place for to-night,” ex- plained Berkrode. ‘‘We shall bind you and lace you on the lower berth. You'll get the ree passage you crave, but, when you get to New York, possibly they won’t give you quite so good a show in the Tombs.” ‘* Cap'n,” seriously replied Bob, ‘‘ we won't never git ter New York, ef “pe persist in—” ‘* Silence! Bind and gag him, men!” ‘* Hol’ on, Cap! All I askis that you’ll jest ’zamine a sart’?in box which Pll show ye—” ‘*Gag him!” ‘* Ho? on} You'll be blowed ter chaos. Thar’s dynamite aboard, an’ it’s ter be ’sploded, an” you— So far Bob managed to speak disconnectedly, but the angry stamp of Berkrode’s foot left the other men no choice, and a bandage across his mouth shut off further speech. In a short time he was perfectly helpless, both hands and feet being tied. The stubborn nature of the captain bade fair to lead to a t disaster; in his unreasoning spite against Gamin Bob he was foolish enough to disregard a]l that he said. ‘* Now toss him into the lower berth,” Berk- rode ordered. It was done as he said, and another cord held the prisoner down so that he could by no possibil- ity escape—unless the captain was greatly mis- taken. ‘* You can lie here and chew your cud,” he el- egantly added, ‘‘and think how you’il be wel- comed back to New York. oul get six months at Blackwell’s, at the very least, and I'll do my best to have you sent toSing Sing. Think of that! Come, boys, it’s two o’clock, and there is work for us all.” They left the state-room, and Berkrode locked the door behind him. ‘* Wal, b’gosh, hyar I be, in ther wu’st gallus scrape Lever did git inter,” thought the Bad- ger. ‘Two o'clock, is it? Jes’ so! Wal, in about two hours—at four—ter wit, namely— we'll all go cruisin’ up ’mongst ther heavenly rs, knockin’ chips off’m Jupiter, Wenus, ars an’ Satan. Seems kinder a melancholy eend ter my detective career. Hyar be I, right in ther blush o’ youth, an’ ther hull world afore me, got ter be chawed into hash by ther measly dynamite. Two hours afore we bu’st! Jes so: but I don’t see how I kin git ready fur ther cruise in that time. I ain’t partial ter that air- line, nohow—not fur Joseph!” He gave a vicious twist at his bonds, but they held fast. ‘*Shoot that bull-headed ole navigator, he ain’t got ther brain o’ a ’skeeter in his cranium. Don’t s’pect I kin tell ther truth, hey? Wal, mebbe when we all git ter ther moon he’ll come round an’ apologize. ‘ This possibility did not afford any great satis- faction, and Gamin Bob turned to the more practical points of the case. ‘‘T’ve found out clear ez grease who tic wiat
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14 Gamin Bob, the Bower y Badger. wants ter blow up ther steamer, an’ their names is Walkington & Goff, ter wit, namely. Now, why did they put Dave Ballard inter ther game? ’Tis his fu’st trip, an’ it’s clear they want him blowed inter nothin’. Mebbe they’ve arranged ter throw ther blame on him.” Gamin Bob was rapidly unraveling the web of the plot, but was not in a situation to profit by it. f Then there’s Jason Stonerod. I know ’twas * him [ seen, an’ I’ll bet a high hat ’twas him w’ot told ther ancient mar’ner that I was a thief. I al’ays thought he was a gallus chap, an’ now I know it. Strikesme he is onter a part o’ this racket, an’ wants all ther glory, but [ don’t be- believe he knows thar is dynamite aboard. Re- sult, this hyar boat is bound ter be bu’sted, an’ *bout two hundred hooman bein’s torn ragged, ef I don’t git outer hock.” The boy began to struggle with his bonds again, but without perceptible effect. Time was passing rapidly on, and all the while the clock in the box of dynamite was mearing the point where it would explode the villainous contents of the box. When that mo- ment arrived the steamer and all the people aboard would be blown to pieces. The prisoner wrestled furiously with his bonds. If he had had the use of his tongue he would have shouted lustily, but even that hope was cut off, and minute after minute passed, Half-past two arrived. Then a quarter of an hour more. Then three o’clock! One hour more, and the fatal explosion would occur. Gamin Bob shivered. He wasa brave young fellow, but there was something so terrible about the fate in store for him and the unsus- pecting passengers that it made him feel cold and dismayed. One short hour more! “Tve got ter git out o’ this—I must! I don’t set old Berkrode’s life above par, b’gosh; but ther passengers’ lives is vall’able, an’ so’s mine, I ain’t ready ter be torn ragged—not fur Jo- seph! W’ot kin I do?” It occurred to him that if he had the use of his sharp, strong teeth, he could gnaw his bonds away, and the idea of displacing the bandage over his mouth by friction against the wall, or pillow, caused him to begin at once. It was not easy work, and his head seemed to get more friction than the bandage, but he kept on until a small fireseemed blazing in his chafed flesh and the cuticle about gone. And all the while the minutes were speeding away: the fatal moment was rapidly approach- ing when the steamer would be blown to pieces. ‘ B’gosh, [ can’t see that ther measly bandage moves a tall. Reckon I’m beat, an’ we’ve all got ter go to chaos an’ kindlin’-wood.” On plowed the steamer. She was a gallant craft, and the waters of the Sound were like an old friend. She glided over and through, with the white foam whirling away from her cut- water, and it seemed that there was pride in phe? ? motion; but the rattle of her machinery ase the taunting laugh of a fiend to Bow- e ob. n a little while the natural tremor of the boat would be increased a thousand fold, and the proud craft would be a shapeless mass of metal and wood. There was no hope that the dynamiter’s clock would stop. The explosion would soon occur. Suddenly the blood bounded more warmly through the prisoner’s veins. With one sudden motion the pangs had given way, and his mouth was at last free. The chance to raise his voice and alarm all who were aboard the boat was then his, but he did not shout. Instead, he preferred to try to gnaw away his bonds, and he had just attacked the cords when a footstep was followed by the rattling of the cabin door. Bob's heart sunk. ‘*Tt’s that measly ole cap’n comin’ back, an’ he’ll knock all my hopes inter red ruin!” he thought, disconsolately. CHAPTER XIV. THE GAMIN USES HIS TEETH—AND SOMETHING MORE. THE rattling was followed by a pause, another trial of the door, and then the steps were heard in retreat, Gamin Bob hesitated for a moment, and then, as the possibility occurred to him that the un- seen was some one not the captain, or one of his tools, he raised his voice and called. There was no answer; if the unknown heard, be did not heed. ‘* B’gosh, that chance is gone, an’ I’ve got ter rely on myself. It must be mighty near half- past three, an’ ef I don’t git these measly cords gnawed off, this craft is a gone goose!” He bent his head and attacked the cords with his teeth. Good teeth they were ashe well knew, and he had often astonished his boy associates by his feats in that line. This time he was gnawing for his life, and he went at the job with zeal. Tearing at the cords as a dog does at a bone, his heart felt lighter as he felt strand after strand part. Not for a mo- ment did he pause, however. The minutes were still slipping away, and the fatal hour grew nearer. ** Hip, hurrah, an’ a tiger!” He half-shouted the words as the last strand parted. His hands were free. It only remained to liberate his ankles. This was quickly done, for he brought out his pocket-knife, but just as he severed the cords the state-room door was again rattled, He de- termined to take the risk of speaking, ‘*T say, who’s thar?” Instantly there came a reply. ‘Ts that you, Bob?” ‘€ B’gosh, I reckon it be, Dave Ballard?” ‘¢Ves, itisI. Whatcan I do for you?” ‘*Get me out o’ here quicker’n you kin say ‘Jack.’ Ef yer don’t, this hyar craft will go sailin’ ter everlastin’ smash.” ‘¢ The door is locked.” **Go ter ther winder then. Between us I reckon we kin open it, an’ then Ill crawl out.” Gamin Bob was fumbling at the window as he spoke, and he was pleased to find that it was not fastened more than usual. He succeeded in pushing back the slat-work, and the fresh air of the Sound rushed in briskly. He caught at the solid wood and drew his lithe form through quickly. By that time Bal- lard was beside the window. ‘¢ Tell me what is wrong,” the latter said, ea- Who are you? Is it erly. ee bm afeard thar’s no time fur ’splanations. W’ot time is it now?” Even as he spoke a clock in some distant state-room sent four strokes dimly to their ears. ‘*Great Scott! it’s too late—we’re goin’ up. It’s four o'clock !” ‘No,’ answered Ballard; ‘‘that clock must be fast.” He had drawn his watch, and enough light for his purpose fell on the dial from a neighbor- ing lamp. ** Half-past three,” he announced. Gamin Bob drew a deep breath. ‘*Then thar is half an hour o’ grace ahead 0’ us, but we've got ter hustle ter save our ba- con. ‘Why? Whatis wrong? Tell me quickly!” ‘* Jes’ this. Them cases 0’? Walkington & Goff’s which purport ter contain silks an’ sech is filled wi’ nothin’ but rubbish, an’ they mean ter defraud ther insurance companies an’ ther boat-line an’ sich, by blowin’ ther hull steamer up, an’ gittin’ paid fur w’ot ain’t aboard.” ‘Great heavens!” exclaimed Ballard, ‘‘I see the scoundrel’s scheme now.” *“Whose?” *¢ Walkington’s.” ** Jes’? so! Wal, I don’t propose ter be blowed up—not fur Joseph! We must pitch that air can o’ dynamite overboard. No, we need it ez evidence ag’in’ ther gallus schemers, an’ we must keep it somehow. Say, can’t we kill ther thing by puttin’ it a-soak?” **T think so.” ‘¢ Then we'll anchor it astarn wi’ a long rope, an’ tow itin.” “A capital plan; but how are we to distin- guish the box?’ ‘* Masy enough; I know italready. Ther only trouble is ther opposition o’ that measly cap’n, an’ ther dynamite clock is set ter go off at four o'clock. Thar hain’t no time ter lose.” ‘* Youre right, Robert; but I believe we can work it. Nearly every one is now asleep, and if the deck-hands are sensible, we may yet be ‘* Let’s scoot, then!” They did ‘‘scoot” in earnest, and made their way to the cabin, and then to the hold, and in uick time. Captain Berkrode was not seen on the way, and no one molested them; but Gamin Bob was at once recognized by the men on duty, and their faces showed they bore him.no ill-will, whatever Berkrode might think. It then lacked but twenty-two minutes of four, and Gamin Bob fairly beat the record for time as he poured out a few sharp sentences of explanation, but, fast as he talked, he made all on we clear, and the faces of the men showed the hor- ror they felt. Never before in their experience had they heard of such a cold-blooded, villainous scheme. All caught eagerly at Gamin Bob’s idea of towing the infernal machine astern, and it was taken out quickly, but with wonderfulcare even for a box marked ‘‘ glass.” As it seemed to be water-tight, one of the men ran the risk of cutting a gash across the top, through which the water would readily enter. and then it was conveyed to the stern and dropped over with two hundred feet of rope at- tached. With the cut in the top, the water would soon spoil whatever combustible might be inside. When the work was done, Ballard’s watch in- dicated twelve minutes to four! They had es- caped destruction by a hair’s breadth, as it were. They stood in a group and looked back until four o’clock had passed, but there was no ex- plosion, and all felt satisfied that the danger was ast. § Up to this time there had been no sign of Cap- tain Berkrode, but, just as they were mutually congratulating themselves, a harsh voice broke in on their conversation. ‘¢ What are you all doing here? Get back to your places, or TW— Hello!” He stopped short and stared blankly as he re- cognized Bob. “ You here?” he exclaimed. ‘‘ Who the fiend has dared to liberate this boy?” . ‘* Ther boy hisself were ther hoss-chestnut that did it,” coolly replied the Bowery lad. ‘* Did ye suppose yer ole ropes would hold me? Not any, fer Joseph!” ta Get back to your prison, you scoundrel, or— ‘Wait, Captain Berkrode!” It was David Ballard’s voice, and he spoke firmly as he stepped in front of the irate cap- tain. ‘*So it’s you again! What the deuce do you want?” ‘¢ Justice for this lad. He has saved us all from destruction, and, if you molest him fur- ther, I shall make complaint against you at the company’s office when we arrive at New York.” “You will, eh? We'll see! Men, take both these fellows and lock them in the tightest place in the steamer. Ay, bind them fast to the stanchions in the hold. We'll see how they like that sort of experience. Away with them!” ‘* Not any, fer Joseph!” stoutly replied Gamin Bob. ‘‘ Ef yer lay a hand on me, I[’ll yell like bloody murder an’ wake up ther hull caboodle o’ ther passengers. We'll see ef a free, enlight- ened citizen o’ ther city o’ New York, U.S. A., is goin’ ter be drawed an’ quartered. Wal, he ain’t, not ef his name is ‘The Bowery Badger.’” ‘What's that? What’s going on here?” The inquiry came in a voice new to the quar- rel, and a tall, finely-formed man strode for- ward and joined the group. Bob no sooner saw him distinctly than he uttered an exclamation of joy. ** i Pluribus, pluribuster! Wrix, is it you? Whar in ther known world did you drop from? Great Scott! ef I'd knowed you was hyar, w’ot a pile o’ trouble I’d dodged!” is face beamed, and well it might. The new-comer was Wrixley, his detective friend, and he felt sure of justice at last. ‘* What trouble have you been in? Captain Berkréde, why were you threatening this boy?” The officer’s face was red, and when he tried to explain he merely stammered incoherently. He had good reasons for being afraid of the keen-eyed detective, who knew certain things about him not known to every one. He tried to excuse himself, but Wrixley inter- rupted. Rou had better invite both me and Bob into your cabin; I want to know the full cause of all this loud talk. Allow me to say, however, that though sickncssshas kept me in my cabin ever since the boat left her pier, and I am still far from well, I have confidence enough in this lad - to assert that he is right and you are wrong!” ‘““Three cheers fur you, Wrix!” returned Gamin Bob. ‘‘I’d ruther see you now than ther queen 0’ South Ameriky, b’gosh, an’ who- ever is ter blame in this row, yer kin make up ed mind ’tain’t B. Bowery, E-squire—not fur oseph!” CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH ‘' A MEASLY SCHEME GETS BU’STED.” WHEN the steamer touched her pier in New York, the following forenoon, the greater part of the pesecuaets went ashore as quietly as though the trip had been uneventful, and, in- a |
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ex ip Nt ip re eae “s Someta Ss es deed, they knew nothing to the contrary; but some of their number stayed, and, at the end of half an hour, a messenger, who had been sent away, returned, accompanied by several sharp- looking men who had an official look. They might well have that appearance, for one of them was the superintendent of police. \ Down in the cabin they were shown a box, harmless enough then, which was found to con- tain an apparatus like a clock, and enough dy- namite to have demolished the steamer bad not the box been treated to a bath, as before re- lated. The hero of the occasion was the Bowery Gamin, who could not be too highly praised to suit the officers, but two men present had much the look of whipped curs. They were Captain Berkrode, who had been obliged to own himself a stubborn fool, and Jason Stonerod. The latter had been frightened by Wrixley into confessing that he had opened the letter left for his brother detective by Gamin Bob, and, though he had gained but a dim idea of what was the trouble, he had learned enough so that he took passage on the boat that night, hoping to make a great discovery. s he had no clew to the dynamite part, he narrowly escaped death as a reward for his treachery. It was he who told Berkrode that Bob was a thief. Seeing the boy there he took that wa to get rid of him, and, in the mean while, prowl- ed all over the boat, hoping to discover some crookedness. He found nothing, however, and now felt himself the smallest man, mentally and physically, in New York. After spending half an hour on the steamer, a number of the officers started, under the street scout’s guidance, for the dynamiters’ den up- town. They found the place looking as usual, and Bob led the way up-stairs, but they did not wait to knock. A quick turn of an instrument in a practiced hand threw back the lock bolt, and they strode into the attic. The first person Gamin Bob saw was Dupré, the Frenchman. He had arisen from a chair, and was staring at them with eyes so enlarged by terror that they seemed thrice their natural size. But this was not all. Just back of Dupré were two other men. One was Pat Merrigan; but for him the young detective cared nothing, He saw a bigger rascal. It was Mr. Christopher Goff! This gentleman had turned very “pale, and, like Dupré, he looked in silent dismay as Gamin at} Bob walked forward, ; f ‘*Hallo, gents!” saluted the lad, coolly: "i ** Hope I see yer well,Do-pray ; an’ likewise you, Chris. How’s dynamite an’ things?” ‘*Mon Dieu!” broke forth the Frenchman, “T know not v’at you mean, atall. I know not ze dynamite, an’ I am von innocent man.” { **You’re ez innercent ez a crocodile. Wrix- | 1 ley, this is ther chief dynamiter, an’ one o’ ther measly chaps w’ot boxed me up; an’ thi8vis ole * Chris Goff, ter wit, namely—ther chap who tried ter blow up ther steamer.” ‘Tt is false!” asserted Goff, but his usually : imposing voice was husky. ‘‘ What lie is this? Be careful, boy, for I will have the law of you! me You're welcome ter ship me a few samples when the law gits through wi’ you ; but I opine thar won't be no love in yer breast fur law by that time.” ae ‘* You bet thar won't !” i 4 The words came in a small’ voice from the darker part of the loft, and a ragged girl ad- 4 vanced. Gamin Bob looked at her in amaze- a ment. n “ Sariah Bird, you hyar!” You kin safely say that I be, Jes’ so! An’ T hereby enter a true bill ag’in’ my nefarious uncle, C. Goff, fur abductin’ me, an’ stealin’ an’ destroyin’ ther written *fession 0’ Marm Bird ter important fax.” At this point Merrigan bounded forward, ‘*No!” he exclaimed, ‘‘ther paper ain’t de- stroyed. I will turn State’s evidence. I help- ed oft ter steal it, but I played a double game | on him, an’ ther paper we got from ther bed- \ post I kept. I handed over ter him another te which warn’t no good, an’ the genuine one I have now. T’ll give it to you. I also accuse ay tas ple ) a Goff an’ his partner, Walkington, 0’ schemin’ a ter blow up a Sound steamer. I helped them in fo it. My name is Pat Merrigan, alias Hank a Cowles, an’ Ill swear to all I say.” He poured forth this explanation with all the rapidity of a frightened man, unheeding Chris- topher Goff’s angry glances, t ws ae Gamin Bob, the Bowery B ‘Good fur you, mister!” added Sadie. “Til forgive ye fur abductin’ me ef you'll perdooce that. dockyment.” ‘*Tt’s alla lie—” began Goff, but Wrixley in- er hh Aca him. ‘You may defend yourself in court, not here. You are all under arrest, and may as well go quietly.” ** Jes’ so,” putin Bob. ‘‘ You’ve run ter ther eend o’ yer rope on yer gallus scheme, an’ come up wi’a jerk. Them ez plays wi’ fire is sure fur ter burn their fingers, an’ I don’t s’pose ther will be many salt, sad tears shed over you, Chris— not fur Joseph! Sariah, ’d ez soon thought o’ seein’ you in Queen Vic’s palace, but thar’s no knowin’ w’ot will occur when crooks an’ sinners git ter playin’ their measly games. Ef one game ain’t about bu’sted, then ther firm o’ B. Bowery, Vidoeq & Co. is pooty bad left. Wrix, scoop ’em in; they’re dis’greeable ter handle, but ther good o’ perlite s’ciety demands that they rus- ticate fur a period at Sing Sing!” With the case worked to such a point, it did not take long to finish it. Besides Goff, Dupré and Merrigan, the police arrested Walkington sp Jung, as well as Brown and Trott, at Bos- n, The confessions of the minor villains fixed the crime of trying to destroy the steamer on Walk- ington & Goff. They also developed the fact that David Ballard was first charged with theft so that he could be used as a cat’s-paw. Thecon- eos intended to have it seem that, after they had kindly taken him back, David blew up the boat as a desperate means of revenge. The boxes belonging to the firm, said to con- tain rich goods, really held nothing of value. Sadie had been abducted by Jung and Merri- gan the morning they detected her listening to them in the street, and was kept prisoner in the garret until found by Bob aid his companions, but Merrigan’s account of the missing paper was correct. Goff had gained a clew to its hiding-place by bribing Mrs. Callahan, after the latter played the spy, and he and Merrigan stole it, but the man played a trick on his master and it was saved. It proved to beimportant; not because it was good in law, executed as it was, but because it gave facts which led to Sadie being proved the aughter of James Goff. _ She recovered her rights, and has been placed in a good school. Goff, Walkington, Jung, Dupré, Brown and Trott were duly punished by law, while Merri- gan, who was not Irish, but whose real name was Hank Cowles, was released because of his testimony, on condition that he left New York, never to return. Mrs. Callahan also obeyed a quiet hint ‘and vanished. Captain. Berkrode lost his position on the steamer line because of his course when he would not hear to a fair warning. Stonerod, the detective, seemed to think New Piety unhealthy for him, and is now in Mon- treal. David Ballard has a new situation, obtained for him by Wrixley. His name is cleared of pa and he is prosperous, as he well deserves to be. One day Wrixley summoned Gamin Bob to his office, and handed over a generous sum of money sent through him to the brave boy by the managers of the Sound line of steamers. ‘*What shall you do with it?’ Wrixley asked, “Plant it in a bank an’ let it ’cumulate. ’T won’t be ther fu’st I hev.thar, an’, bimeby, ef I keep ther weeds out, Pll hev bullion enough ter be rich ez Billy Vanderbilt on his daddy’s money.” ‘¢T suppose you retire from detective work?” ‘‘Notfur Joseph! No,sirree! Detective work sorter suits me, an’ef I kin eat enough ter git a few hundred pounds adadupus onter my bones, I'll be a solid man on ther force yit. When de- tectives ain’t needed, thar won’t be no crooks, an’ thar will be crooks while folkses hey sech measly lax idees ’bout ther square-root an’ addi- tion o’ public an’ perivate a’fairs. Gamin Rob- ert will put on his familiar ole rags ter-morrer, Wrix, an’ go out fer ter see w’ot gallus crook he kin devour. Stumpy sez Ill come ter grief, but B. Bowery, Vidoeq & Co. will make ther dry bones rattle out * Hail Columby’ in severial keys, afore they git stuck scalp-deep in ther mud. ’Tain’t nat’ral ter Gamin Robert to git left—not fur Joseph!” THE END. adgrer. 15 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. BY W. J. HAMILTON, {68 The Red Brotherhood ; or, The Twelve Avengers, 66 Single Hand; or, A Life fora Life. 72 Mad Tom W eatern, the Texan Ranger, 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop, BY EDWARD 8. ELLIS. 6 Bill Biddon, Trapper. r 8 Seth Jones; or, The Captives of the Frontier, 10 Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sloux Captive. 4 21 ‘xrne Frontier Angel. 98 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island, 182 The Hunted Hunter}; or, The Strange Horseman, 254 The Half-Blood; or, The Panther of the Plains. ; 271 The Huge Hunter}; or, The Steam Prairie Man, ¥ BY J. W. OSBON,. 469 The Rival Glants of Nowhar’. 498 Cactus Burr, the Man from Hard Luck, 587 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. 564 Powder Phil, the Boy Miner. 609 Bolly Dorrit, the Veteran Detective. 620 Little Lightning’s League; or, The Mystery of the Island, 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; or, Lost Among the Floes, 848 Fire-Heels; or, Old Skinflint, the Death-Shadow. 854 Big Horn Ike, the Ill Tramp; or, The Odd Pards, S61 The Phantom Light-houae. 870 Breaker Ben, the Reef-Runner, BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE, 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas, 90 The Dread Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Taos; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel, : 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom, 181 The Golden Handy; or, Dandy Rock to the Rescue, 164 Dandy Reck’s Pledge 5 or, Hunted to Death. / 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The Haunted Maid of Taos, 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 World Wanderer. 265 The Tiger Tamer} or, The League of the Jungle, 881 Black Nick, the Demon Rider. 895 California Joe’s War Trail. BY CAPT. J. F. ©. ADAMS, 84 Oregon Sols or, Nick Whiffles’s Boy Spy. 46 Glass-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. 54 Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. 56 Nick Whiftles’s Pets or, Ir The Valley of Death. 60 The White Indian; or, The Scout of the Yellowstone, . 70 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, The Greenhorn in the Wooda, 81 atohtoten Jo, the Terror of the Prairie. 85 Buck Buckram 3 or, Bess, the Female Trapper, 247 Old Grizzly and His Pets; or, The Wild Huntress, 251 Light-house Lige; or, Osceola, the Firebrand. 257 he Lost Hunters; or, The Underground Camp. 288 The Scalp King; or, The Human Thunderpolt, MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORA, ‘ 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters, By Capt. Mayne Reid and * Frederick Whittaker. 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Illustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor, His Seven Voyages. 22 The Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Cruace, Lewis, 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribees. By 8S, W, Pierce. 86 tg Boy Clown; or, The Queen of the Arena, By Frank 8. Fi le nn. 88 Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. 61 The Boy Rives; or, The Underground Camp. By Archie C. Trona. 95 The Rival Roveras or, The Freebooters of the Mississippi, By Lieut.-Col. Hazeltine. 98 Robin Hood, the Vutlawed Ear); or, The Merry Men of Green- wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. 112 The M al Wunter} or, The Cave of Death. By Burton Saxe. 124 Tippy, the Texan} or, The Young Champion. By George i Gleeson. . ee 128 The Youn Privateer’ or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By y € i . 148 py ain or, The Adventures of a Friendleas Boy. By J. Al der Patten. 227 Dusky Darrell, Trapper: or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- lowstone. By Edward Emerson. 261 Fergus Fearnaught the New Y irk Boy. By G. L, Atken. 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; »%r, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. By Ensign C. D, Warren. 298 Ked Claw, the pee’ Trapper; or, The Maid of the Cliff. » tain Comstock. 817 Peoeeek Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lieu- tenant Alfred ‘Thorne. 828 The Sky Detectives or, A Boy’s Fight for, Life and Honote ~ By Maior Mickey Free. 850 Hed 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 He Moree. 876 California Joe’s First Trail. By Colonel Thomas Hoyer Monstery. 418 Biily Bombshell, the Cliff Climer. By F. S. Winthrop. 475 The Black Ship. By JohnS Warner. 484 Somancke Dick and His Three Invinelbles. By enry J. Thomas. $28 Wizard-Arm, the Dandy Sport. By Arthur F. Holt. 582 The Cowboy Duke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest. 552 Ariel the Athlete. By David Druid. 585 Will Waters, the Boy Ferret. By H. Enton. A New Issue Every Tuesdays ‘ The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 4 98 William Street, New York. By Juan
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a BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novela 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance, 28 Buffalo Ben; or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise. 85 Wilda Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. 42 Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 49 Omaha OL; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. 567 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine, %7 Corduroy Charlie; or, Deadwood Dick’s Last Act, 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville, 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Praawoes Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s suich. 188 Blonde BIll¢ or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. 149 A Game of Goldy or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road. 201 The Black Milla Jezebel; or, Deadwood Dick’s Ward. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Ad- venture. 217 Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. 221 Sugar-Coated Sam; or, The Black Gown. 282 Gold-Dust Dick, A Romance of Roughs and Toughs, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trall. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Big Veal; or, The Gold Brick of regon, 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- rings. 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta. 862 Deadwood Dick’s Claim, 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City, 410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds, 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “Cute Case,” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand. 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr. 448 Nickel-Plate Ned; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance. 458 - po pip Sam, o! Shasta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Full and, 459 Flush Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Ronnd- Up. 465 Phitlo Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at Claim 10. 471 Bozeman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Corral. A476 Humboldt Harry tie Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Dog Detective. 481 Moll Mystery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Dendwood. 491 Prince Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Compact. 496 Monte Cristo, Jr.: or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Inheritance. 500 Deadwood Dick's Diggings ; or, Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop, 508 Deadwood Dick’s Deliverance. 515 Deadwood Dick’s Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick’s Three, 529 Deadwood Dick’s Danger Ducks, 544 Deadwood Dick’s Death Hunt. 589 Deadwood Dick Jr, in Texas. 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr. the Wild West Vidocq. 549 Deadwood Dick on Mis Mettle. 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick in Boston. 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr.in Philadelphia, 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Chicago. 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr. Afloat. 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Denver, 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr's. Decree. 595 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Beelzebub’s Basin, 600 Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. 606 Deadwood Dick Jr’s Leadville Lay. 612 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Detroit. 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Cincinnati, 624 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Nevada. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler, 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot, 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludaoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter, or, The Boy Detective, 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl M ner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance, 92 Canada Chet 3 or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs and Angels of a Great City, 118 Jack Hoyle _the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport, 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. 188 Boss Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. 145 Sangain Ferret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s oas Job. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 17% Nobby Nick of Nevada or, The Sierras Scamps. 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter, 226 Snoozer, tlhe Boy Sharp; or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. 244 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret. 248 Sierra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Ange! of Big Vista, 258 Sierra Saim’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride, 278 Jumbo Joe, the Koy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll's Victory. 285 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or, The Road Queen. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, tbe Sirl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. 825 Kelley, Hickey & Co.,, the Detectives of Philadelphia, 880 Little Qufck-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville. 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner, 889 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood. B58 First-Class Fred, the Gent trom Gopher, 868 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherer; or, The Lottery o! Life. 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. 878 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. BS2 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 885 Yreka Jim’s Joker}; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, 889 Bicycle Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Hat Harry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabaides, the Beggar-Boy Detective, 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 486 Sealskin Sam, the Sparkler. BEADLE’S«H ALF-[DIME*[IBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at tne Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers, ‘ BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Phil Mardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective, 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. IMandsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Black Bessa, Will Wildfire’s Racer. 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 162 Will Wildfire in the Wooda, 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. 170 A Trump Card; or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses, 174 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York, 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden Handj or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge, 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smugglers, 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed ; or, Bob Kockett’s Fight for Life, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. 220 Tom Tanner; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock, 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two “* Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang, 252 Dick Dashaway ; or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 262 The Young Sharps; or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail, 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective, 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. 805 Dashaway, of Dakuta; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker ity. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, 867 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry, the Leveler}; or, The Bloods of the Boulevard, 408 Firelly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 423 The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier, 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick; the Jolly Vagabond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive, 479 Detective Dodges or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty, 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman} or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, 566 The Secret Service Boy Detective. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. BY OLL COOMES, & Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Kuite, the Prince of the Prairies, 41 Lasso Juck, the Young Mustanger. 568 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Hawk-eye Warry the Young Trapper Ranger, $8 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. 148 Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texaa, the Young Mustanger, 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain. 202 Prospect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters, 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps, 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 Little Ww fldtire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger. 248 The Disguised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger, 72 Minkakin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon ; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger, 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 Hercules; or, Dick, the Boy Ranger. 417 Webfoot Mone, the Tramp Detective, 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. 444 Little Buckskin, tne Young Prairie Centaur, 457 Wingedfoot Fred}; or, Old Polar Saul, 468 Tamarac Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan, 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper, BY T. C. HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of 76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl Hunter, 47 Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dand ack 3 or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trail, 82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack ; or, The Boy Trapper. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr.: or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Tomy or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw ; or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge, 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade, 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Rei Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravo; or, The Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apoli-, tne King-Pin of Bowie. 267 The Buckskin Detective, 279 Old Winch; or, Tue Buckskin Desperadoes, 294 Dynamite Dany; or, The Bowie Blade of Gochetopa. 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bully, 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Pardas; or, The Terror of Take-Notice. 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso. 845 Pitileas Matt; or, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret, BSt Cool sam and Pards or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass 3 or, The Boccaneer’s Girl Foe, 896 Rough Rob: or, The !win Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Silken Lasso; or, The Rose of Ranch Robin, 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty 3 or, ‘The Last Man of Keno Bar, 470 The Boy Shadow ; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. 477 The Exceisior Sport: or, The Washington Spotter, 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 521 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodke. 528 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows. 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodger Dick’s Deaperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocq. 578 The Two Shadows. 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610°O1d Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard, = & BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, ? The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast, 17 Ralph ho yy the Boy Buccancer; or, The Fugitive Yacht, 4 Diamond Dirk 3 or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 62 The Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants. %5 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, 102 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. 111 The Sea-Devil; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 116 The Hussar Captain ; or, The Hermit o! Hell Gate, 197 Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter, 204 Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport. 216 Bison BIll, the Prince of the Reins, 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 229 Crimson Kate; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the 1 poss Bes Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy 3; or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman M utineer ; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. 264 ene Floating F eather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure sland, 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 more Monte’s Cruise; or, The Chase of “The Gold Ship.’ 280 Merle Monte’s Fate ; or, Pearl, the Pirate’s Bride, 284 The Sea Marauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler, 808 Keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double. 814 ne Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long rail. 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover; or, The Flagless Schooner, 888 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island, 887 Warpath WILL, the Boy Phantom. 898 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Isodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League, 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Yachtamans; or, The War-Cloua’s Cruise. 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The Sea Raider. 441 The Ocean Firefly 3 or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 446 Haphazard Harry ; or, The Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard WIIl: or, Tike Boy Ferret of New York. 454 Wizard Will’s Street Scouts. 462 The Born Guide; or, The Saiior Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. 474 Florays or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Will’s Last Case, 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. 495 Arizona Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat, 507 The Hunted Midshipman. 511 The Outlawed Middy. 520 Buckskin BIL, the Comanche Shadow. h rete Buckskin, 585 The Bue'.akin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder ot the Rie, 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Soa. 555 The Creole Corsair. 560 Pawnee BIIIL, the Prairie Shadower. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen, 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. 580 The Outcast Cadet; or, ‘The False Detective, 5S6 The Buckskin Avenger. 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea Rover. 59? The Young Texan Detective. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. 607 The Rover Detectives or, Keno Kit’s Champions. 617 Ralph, the Dead-Shot Scout; or, The Raiders and the Red Riders of the Kio, BY BUFFALO BILL (Hen. Wm. F. Cody), 8 Kanaas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie, 55 Deadly-Eye, the Palasvn Scout. 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trust. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 626 The Champion Pards. By T. C. Harbangh. 627 Tom Bruce of Arkansas; or, The Wolfin the Fold. By xrles Morris. 628 Broadway Billy’s Dead Act. By J.C. Cowidrick. 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport. By Wm. G. Patten. 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in No Man’s Land; or, Golconda, the Gladiator. By Ed, L, Wheeler. 681 Tom Cat’s Terrible Task. By Lieut. A. K. Sime, 682 The Dead Detective’« Double. By Gerald Carlwn. 688 Plucky Paul, the Boy Prospector. By J. W. Osbon 684 Cache Carl, the Chico Giant, or, The True Hearts of Red Eye Roost, By Buckskin Sam. 685 Oklahoma Hi, the Blue-Coat Scout. By P.S, Warne. 686 Deadwood Dick, Jr. After the Queer; or, Sawdust Sam’s Last Green Gime. By E. L. Wheeler. 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh. 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph; or, Black Ivan’s Great Combine. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. 689 Sunrise Saul, the Express-Train Ferret. By Jo, Pierce. 640 Bareback Beth, the Centaur of the Circle. By J.\C. Cowdrick. ’ 641 Dismal Dave’s Dandy Pard. By Wm. G. Patten. 642 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Buffalo; or, 4-11-44. By Edward L. Wheeler. 648 Wappy Harry’s Big Find; or, The Beautiful Jezebel’s wast Stake. By P. 8, Warne. 644 The Hercules Highwayman; or, The Mounted Miners of the Overland. By Colonel IP. Ingraham. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp. By T.C, Harbaugh. 646 Cowboy Gid, the Cattle-Range Detective, or, The Grand Corral at Cross-Notch. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. 647 Typewriter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward, or, Amateur De- tective against Professional. By J. C. Cowdrick. 648 Deadwood Dick, Jr’s., Chase Across the Contli- nent. By Edward L. Wheeler. . 649 Camis Bob, the Bowery Badger; or, Seooping a Slippery Set. By Jo Pierce. 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Rider Detective; or, Buffalo Bill’s Boy Parad. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. Ready January 7, 651 Bound Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective, By Wm. G. Patten. Ready January 14. 652 Don Barr, the Plain’s Freelance, By Oll Coomes, Ready January “1. 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. By T. C. Harbaugh. Ready January 28. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half- Dime Library is for asle by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York,