Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 784) (1892 08 02)
The text was read from the page scans by machine (OCR), so it has mistakes and its columns may run together. See the pages · About this title · At the Internet Archive
Page 1
: W\ = at ik wiped: es aE CRY ar? had ial Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office. Angus 9, » 18: V2. $2. ia PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, ae ifiiy ¥ No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK, 5 Cents. | Vol XXXL Ne bi) | *) AUN) | Ze will Qi ee (| } ‘ wae ‘ 4 if ia The Sharps and Sharks of New York. BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, AUTHOR OF ‘‘DASHING CHARLIE,” ‘‘ BUCK TAYLOR'S BOYS,” ‘* PAWNEB BILL’S PLEDGE,” ‘‘ DICK DOOM'’S DEATH-GRIP,” ETC,, ETC. CHAPTER I. A RECOGNITION, A MAN stood in the shadow of the entrance to a fashionable New York theater, gazing, witha strange look upon his face, at the gathering throng, rilling up to the doors in liveried = coaches, or pressing ip on foot, ‘*y ALSO SEE THE MAN I SEEK THE MURDERER OF MELTON REEVES. HOLD WUT He wore a military cloak, slouch hat, and had YOUR HANDS, GIBSON!” the appearancs of a soldier or sailor,
Page 2
\ ‘Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective. Suddenly he started as there stepped from a carriage a maiden of rare loveliness, attended by several gentlemen. ‘‘What a beautiful facet Where have I met met her, before?” and he thought seriously for a moment, ‘I must see her again; I must recall her face from the ” ; He took from his pocket a bill and looked at it longingly. ‘* The last two dollars I have in the world,” he answered as if communing’ with himself as another person. ‘‘To-morrow I will have to pawn my cloak; then I will be a vagabond, mniless, homeless, friendless!” and his fine Soca betrayed the agony of a proud spirit. ‘* But I must—I will see that face again!” and he grasped the bill in his fingers convulsive- ly. ‘I must follow ber into the theater and find her,” He walked up to the box-office and laid down his two dollars: “The last orchestra seat, sir, and about the best in the house,” said the ticket-seller, and he handed him fifty cents change. He had intended seeking only admission, but the party from the carriage must have gone to a bomend his orchestra seat would command a good view of the boxes, He was shown to his seat, on the right, a few rows from the front, and there, within twenty feet of him sat the woman whose face had so impressed him, he was, indeed, very beautiful in both face and form, scarcely over nineteen, and her neck and ears sparkled with rare gems, There were in the box with her another lady, several re her senior, and three gentlemen, all in full dress, Suddenly her eyes fell upon the man in the —— seat, and he purposely averted his head. Quick as a flash she dropped her opera-glass upon bim, and said with some excitement: ** Oh, Meta! there is the gentleman who saved my life.” ‘Where is he, Julia?” quickly asked the other ady. ** Tn the fifth row from the front, the seat next to the aisle, ‘* He is not looking this way now.” “* Ah, yes, and what a splendid-looking man!” rs, Stanwood. ** And bis name you said was—” * Cecil Carlysle was the name on his card, but his place of residence was not given, and he told us nothing of himself, merely, when papa. asked his name, bandivg his card, bowing and taking his leave.” ** And he saved your life, Miss Harlowe, did I understand P sg to say?’ asked Melton Reeves, one of Julia Harlowe’s devoted admirers, though a recent addition to her string of beaux. ‘Yes, 7 life and pes “Indeed! and may I ask how it was, for I never heard of it before, and with such a debt of gratitude to his credit, and the dangerous- looking man that he is, I should think he would be a formidable rival,” and the last words were uttered in a low tone by Melton ves, ‘You’ asked how it happened that he saved my life, Mr, Reeves?” “Yes, Miss Harlowe,” “Tt was on the Sound steamer that caught fire a year ago. ‘* Papa and I had state-rooms that were cut off by the fire, and that gentleman, enveloped in wet canvas, came through the flames, carried me toa place of safety, and going back for my father, brought him also through that terrible fire, after which he aided us, into a boat, and thus we were rescued, ‘He saved many other lives, too, but refused to give his name for publication, and only when slipping away from us after landing, gave his card to me, **Papa tried in vain to find him, and now I have done so by @ mere accident, and I wish you, Mr. Reeves, between the first and second acts, to kindly go to Mr. Carlysle and ask him to join us in the box. * You will do this for me, will you not?” Melton Reeves did not wish to do 80, yet said politely: ** Oh, yes, certainly.” He could do no less, for he was Miss Har- lowe’s guest at the theater, and Mrs, Stanwood and ker husband were also anxious to meet the gallant stranger, who but once had appeared to lance toward the box and then received a low w from the fair lady whose life she asserted she owed to him, the curtain went down upon the first ee —————————————— ——————————————————————————————————————— ——— act, Melton Reeves stood in the aisle by the side of the stranger. Mr, Cecil Carlysle, I believe?” The stranger started, arose and said: ** Yes, sir,” ‘Permit me to introduce myself as Melton Reeves, and to say that Miss Harlowe has sent me to escort you to her box,” The stranger hesitated, then in a constrained manner said: ‘¢ Thank you, I will go.” He accompanied his escort, the two chatting pleasantly on the way, though Melton Reeves said to Harry Stanwood, after ushering the stranger into the box: ‘*That was the most generous act of my life, Stanwood, for that man is a heart-winner.” ** He looks it indeed,” replied Stanwood, and he stepped forward and greeted Mr. Cecil Car- lysle pleasantly as Julia Marlowe presented them, ‘*T am glad to meet you again, Mr, Carlysle, so that I may prove how we appreciate the debt of gratitude we owe you, but can never repay. ‘*Tt was unkind of you to desert us as you did, after saving our lives; but you must give me your address and papa will call on the morrow.” “Thank you, but I leave the city early in the morning.” “‘T am so sorry; but I shall claim you for sup- per to-night with us after the theater, and will take no refusal,” CHAPTER II. A VAGABOND, THE stranger thus met at the theater seemed content to drift with the tide, so, urged by all returned with the party to the elegant home of the millionaire, Madison Harlowe, Mr. Harluwe, a handsome old gentleman of fifty-five was reading in his library when the theater party returned, and went to the hallway to receive them, for his daughter was the idol of his life, and her friends always found a warm place in his heart. Julia was a maiden of rare personal charms, with a face full of intelligence and beauty, manners that were dignified and fascinating and a form that was the perfection of grace and mmetry, With such attractions, added to the fact that she was the heiress to millions, it was not to be wondered at that she was a reigning belle, and had been since, a year and a half before, she had returned from Europe, where she had spent sev- eral years in traveling under a gentleman and his wife who had been her tutor and governess, With her father, after her return, she had assed a year in traveling through the United tates, and it was while upon a Sound steamer, which bad taken fire at night, she bad so nearly lost ber life, and, but for the rescue by Cecil Carlyle, both her father and herself would have perished, The modest manner in which he had eluded thanks, keeping bis identity unknown, bad but made the father and daughter the more anxious to find their brave deliverer, and now that, by an accident, they had done so, he was certainly a most welcome guest, ; He cast a quick, searching glance about him at the grandeur of the spacious parlors, library halls and dining-room, as he was ushered in to supper, noted, the two servants in livery, the massive solid silver plate upon the table, and muttered to himself: , ‘“*A vagabond a guest ina palace—how pass- ing strange!” r. Harlowe had received him with the greatest warmth, while there was a quiver in his voice as he said: *“We can never thank you, Mr. Carlysle, never, never! **See! I still bear the scars of that fiery fur- nace you bore me through, and God only knows how you escaped being burned to death, for I remember your hands were blistered, and your beard burned almost to a crisp.” ‘*Tt was but a temporary suffering, sir, and I do not even now beur the scars that you do,” said Mr. Carlysle, glancing at the scarred hands of Mr. Harlowe, ; Of course with such a record, and a tall, ele- gant-looking man, with dark, fascinating face and courtly manners, Mr. Carlysle was the hero that night, and when at last he took his leave, left a most favorable impression behind him. But then it was, after the door closed upon him and her other guests, that Julia remem- bered that they bad not Cciscovered wherr Mr. Carlysle was stopping in the city, bow long he had been there, where he was going, where he lived, or in fact anything whatever about him. Par Ry phd ae He had promised to call again when passing through the city, and that was all. He had declined to be driven to his hotel, and had gone out to find it storming. **My God! what a contrast! ** Out into the storm and cold, from that love- ly svene, “The guest of a millionaire, and yet with but fifty cents in my pocket, and not enough proper- ty in the wide world to pawn for half a hundred dollars, ‘*Hal hal ha! what a situation for a novelist! ‘* A pauper in a palace, and received with the warmest of welcomes by both the millionaire and his beautiful daughter. **¢ Call again,’ she said, “Oh, yes, I will call again, and again, for this night is the turning point of my life, and I shall play my cards to win, for I cannot afford to lose. ‘The past must be forgotten now, the future is all my own.” He strolled along through the driving sleet, his cloak drawn close around bis form to keep out the cold. Thus he wandered from street to street until suddenly he halted in the fashionable part of the city known as Murray Hill. “The night is going and I have not where to lay my head, and only a few cents to buy break- fast with. ** And then? “Last night I had almost thought I would end all by a leap into the river. ‘**But to-night I am full of hope, for there is a beacon light abead and I will not despair. **] will seek one who, in spite of his vow, shall give me money, ‘* But how am I to reach him, so far, very far away, while I have no money? ‘*T will, I must find a way; I will not now be downed—now,upon the very threshold of success. ** Not I.” Hs strolled on once more until turning a corner the fierce wind cut him to the bone with cold, and he shrunk for shelter against the lee of a large tree. It was a breaking-up storm of a long and hard winter, on the very eve of spring, for it was late in March; but for that reason, on ac- count of the temperate breezes of the pust few days, the cold seemned more severe, and the way- farer clung close to the tree, his eyes watching the flickering lights, ‘“*My God! I believe I am freezing. Not a soul is out this fearful night, save I—a vaga- bond—a man without a tome. Not even the watchmen dare leave their cozy retreats. ‘* What would the beautiful Julia Harlowe say now did she see Cecil Carlysle, ber res- cuer? ‘* By Heaven! I believe she has it in her to help me, for she is no society butterfly, as heart- less as beautiful. ‘** | must move on, or I will perish with cold— Ab! some one is out, for there comes a form through the driving storm,” One moment after the lamplights revealed a struggle in the snow, a fall: a cry rung out like a dying utterance, and while one man lay pros- trate upon the snowy bed tbe other fled like a deer from the scene where a tragedy had been enacted. CHAPTER III. A MYSTERIOUS MURDER. A GrRouP of officers were gathered in the private office of the chief of police,on the morn- ing after the scepe at the theater, where Miss Harlowe bad recognized the rescuer of her fa- ther and herself, The chief sat there with a face that looked disturbed, and was listening to the report of his men upon a mysterious murder which bad been committed under the shadows of the night, and during the snow-storm. Each officer bad told bis story of how he had been called to the scene about dawn by Patrol- man Michael Kane, who had been going on bis rounds and disscvecel in the snow, almost knee- cece, something that looked like a human orm, He had brushed away the snow and discov- ered that it was a man enveloped in storm-coat and cap, but apparently stone dead. In the whistling storm his cal] was unheard, and supposing that the man had fallen from cold, be raised the form in his strong arms and hastened several blocks to a drug-store, where he aroused the clerk, A glance at the form there showed a deep knife-thrust in the neck, and thus revealed the _ terrible fact that the man bad been murdered. Leaving the body there with the trembling a
Page 3
g ee ¢ > Sag tes a) P< “4 Ws we Ty ae ge a Rn a a 5 Ey OLSON. WTR cad oi aly Sis Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective. 3 clerk, Michael Kane had hastened away for as- sistance, which he soon obtained, Then the dead man was recognized, for one of the officers had said: “5 ic Mr. Melton Reeves, that rich young fellow from New Orleans who was so attentive to old millionaire Harlowe’s daughter. ** He was evidontly just away from his club and going to his rooms a square beyond, when he was assassinated.” The identity of the murdered man having been established, the next thing was to find the murderer, As the one who discovered the body, Officer Kane went back to the scene of the tragedy. It was just getting dawn, and, as it had stopped snowing, his eyes fell upon a large roll of money, balf-hidden in the snow, This he carefully put away in his breast pocket, gazed at the scene, saw the tracks in the snow, and then went to the station to make his report, after which he turned in for a short rest. Having heard the reports of all who bad been called to the aid of Officer Kane, the chief of police was awaiting the coming of that persop to listen to his report. A moment after Officer Michael Kane entered, a tall man, for he was over six feet by several inches, possessing a splendid physique, and an in- i an determined face, which nothing could Tu 2. He saluted his chief, nodded to .his brother officers, and took his position ready to be ques- tioned, ‘Officer Kane, you make the rounds four times, I believe, during the hours you are on duty?” said the chief, ** Yea, sir,” ‘* Did you make the four rounds last night?” ‘** No, sir.” ‘* Why not?” ‘*T made three rounds, sir, and it was then nearly time to go off, as I found it slow pulling through the deep snow. “‘T had just begun my fourth round, when I found a dead man on me beat.” ** Well?” ‘*As I could not get my signal answered, for the storm was making such a racket, sir, I shouldered the man and carried him to the near- est drug-store, hoping to thaw him out. ‘*T then found that he was dead, and had been tnurdered,” “ How Via ** There was a knife-thrust in his throat, sir.” Well?” ‘*T called help, and the officers now here re- ported promptly. when one of them recognized the body as that of Mr. Melton Reeves, a young man from New Orleans, who has been very de- voted to Miss Harlowe, and who isa member of the Quid Nunc Club. ‘“‘That being known he was taken to his rooms, his servant opening the door for us, and the coroner sent for,” ** And then?’ *“‘T went to view the spot, sir, of the murder, before it was tracked over.” ‘* Had any one been there?” ‘* No, sir, the tracks of Mr. Reeves, and the one who ha‘ followed him, and the latter’s foot- marks back the way he had come, with my own, were all that were visible.” ‘* Was there a sign of a struggle?” ‘Yes, sir, the murder occurred just where there was a Jarge tree, the wind having blown ‘the snow from about it upon the lee side. “There was a faint indication of tracks coming this way, but the snow had nearly obliterated them.” ““Then what is your theory; Kane?” “That Mr, Reeves had left his club, sir, and been followed to the spot where he was murdered. “‘The blow was struck from the side, the as- sassin coming up behind, not having been beard in the storm, “There was a slight struggle for life on the part of Mr, Reeves, who could not have had strength to resist after being wounded, “Then the murderer seized his pocketbook and fled, leaving his watch, chain, ring and diamond studs, for Mr, Reeves was in full dress but not discovering this roll of money which found in the snow whenI went back there,” and Kane handed over the roll of bills. ‘* Ah! this the murderer failed to get, and no doubt this roll of money was what the assassin ‘sought; but you say be got a pocketbook?” ‘Iso believe, sir, as his vest was torn open, and the inner pocket ripped, as though some- thing like a wallet had been taken from It.” ‘* And there are just three thousand dollars in this roll of bills,” remarked the chief. ** Yes, sir, I counted them.” ** And which way did the murderer escape?” *“* Back in the steps he had come, sir, for I traced him to Sixth avenue, where the car stables had their sweepers out on the tracks, and he went where the srow was broken, so could be followed no further.” ‘All right, Officer Kane; come with me to visit the scene,” and turning to his clerk, the chief added; ‘*T wish six of the best detectives in the service to meet me here at twolve o’clock sharp. Here are their names,” CHAPTER IV. ON THE TRACK. Tue chief and Officer Kane did not go in their uniforms to investigate the mysterious murder, but changing to civilian suits, they entered a carriage and were driven to the Quid Nunc Club. An early gathering of members was already there, discussing the sad affair, as word had been sent around toa number of them, for the news had not yet been spread broadcast through the rs. ete chief was recognized by several of the members, and he asked to be shown to a private room and to meet those who had last seen Mr. Reeves, as well as the servant who had let him out of the door when he departed. From the members he conversed with, he learned that Melton Reeves had come to tbe club-room after midnight, driven there in the Harlowe carriage, he baving attended the thea- ter with Miss Harlowe, He bad been joined by certain members of the club in a game of cards, and he had won rapidly quite a large sum, **Do you know the amount?” asked the chief. “Just three thousand dollars,” was the an- swer. The chief smiled and listened attentively while the servant told the hour when Mr. ves had started home, and that there being no cab out he would bave a rough walk to his rooms, ‘‘ Did you see any one outside awaiting bim?” the chief asked. ** No one, sir.” *¢ Could any one have known Of his having this money, and have dogged his steps?” ‘7 think not, sir,” “Did he go home alone?” ‘“« from bere he did, sir.” ‘Who next followed him out?” The members all looked at each other and then at the servant, who replied: ‘¢ Well, sir, the one who went out after Mr. Reeves Was & young man who had once been a member, but had been voted out unanimously on account of his actions,” ‘6 Who was he?” “Mr, Valentine Gibson, sir.” ‘¢ What was he doing here, if not a member?” ‘He came and asked to see Mr, Reeves, and wanted me to call him into the ball for him; but just then Mr, Reeves came out and Mr, Gibson asked him to lend him some money.” ‘© Well?” ‘““Mr, Reeves did give him some, I do not know how much, and putting on his heavy coat and cap, went out with a pleasant good-night to e, ‘“‘ Then I noticed that Mr. Gibson was standing by the register in the alcove and I told bim that 1 must ask him to leave,” ** And he did so?” ** Yes, sir, at once,” ‘* How long was this after Mr. Reeves left?” “Two or three minutes, sir. “Did Mr. Reeves hand him the money from the roll he carried, and bad won last night?” **No sir, he took it out from where it was thrust in the breast of bis dress coat, hut merel to get at his leather case, from which he too the money he gaye Mr, Gibson.” ‘Where did he keep this leather book?” ‘* In his vest pocket, I think, sir.” ** And the roll of bills?” : “He gave them to me to hold, sir, while he pat on his great-coat, and then thrust them oosely into the flaps somewhere, as though he did pot care much if he lost the money.” “You, gentlemen, remember that Mr. Reeves carried a leather pocketbook?” Several of the members thus appealed to re- called the fact and described the book, Thanking them, the chief and officer Kane took their leave and were driven to the house of Millionaire Harlowe, Mr, Harlowe was absent, but Julia, when asked for, glided into the parlor looking very lovely in a morning dress. ‘* Miss Harlowe, I bavecome to acquaint you with a very sad occurrence, and—” ‘* My father?” gasped Julia her face paling. “Ts safe and well, as far as I know; but it is of a guest of yours last night that I have to speak, and who has met with a tragic and sud- den end,” ‘Mr. Carlysle?” came in a low tone from the lips of Julia Harlowe, and she slipped intoa chair as though from weakness, “No, the gentleman to whom I refer was Mr, Melton Reeves.” age me what has happened, I beg of you, sir?” » ‘Mir, Reeves was murdered last night on his way bome from his club, and found dead on the pavement by Officer Kane here just before dawn this morning.” ‘Murdered? Poor Mr. Reeves was murder- ed? ‘“‘This is indeed a shock, for last night he left here so little dreaming of a fate so terrible,” “Tr was sad indeed, Miss Harlowe, for he seemed to bea very popular young man; but [ have called to ask you, as, pardon me, it was hinted to me that he was perhaps engaged to you, if you knew of any foe that he had?” “You have been misinformed, sir, for Mr. Reeves was simply a friend whom I respected and admired very much, : “ But to answer your question I will say that I never heard of his having a foe in the world, and yet—” she added quickly, ‘‘ I do recall that he told me there was one who, but for him, would have gotten a fortune left to him, Melton Reeves, and he had threatened some day to have his revenge.” ‘* This is valuable information, Miss Harlowe, ‘* Now, may I ask, if you ever heard the name of this man?” ‘*He was a cousin of Mr. Reeves, and bis name is Valentine Gibson, once a society man about town, but who, I believe, left the cit some time ago, having run through with bis credit, his honor and friends,” ‘ Thank you, Miss Harlowe, and permit me to say that this same man left the club last night immediately behind Mr. Reeves.” : ‘¢ That is what you would call in law circum- stantial evidence that he was the murderer, is it not?” ‘* Yes, Miss Harlowe, and strong enough to hang bim,” was the stern rejoinder of the chief, sats now arose and left the mansion witb Officer ne. , The carriage then took them by the scene of the tragedy, and back to Headquarters, where the chief found the six detectives awaiting him, His orders to them were short and to the int: pee Find Valentine Gibson and bring him here,” CHAPTER V. DICK DOOM, THE papers came out teeming with the foul and mysterious murder of the handsome young clubman, Melton ves. A man of wealth, with an elegant B rma oy home upon the coast country of the Mississippi, above New Orleans, he had met Julia Harlowe in society in the Crescent City, and falling in love with her, had followed her to her Northern home, making his residence in New York, where he had the entree everywhere, : He had never yet asked the lovely girl for her love, though he had told her father he sought to win her hand; but he would not commit himself until he felt assured that she loved him, And such had been his untimely end, Of course the chief had given no clew to his belief as to who the murderer was, and hence ae whole affair was enveloped in deepest mys- ry. , ; In the morning papers, inserted for a month, came the reward from the Quid Nune Club offering five thousand dollars for the capture of the murderer, and the next day a number of wealthy residents of Murray Hill, whose sacred precincts bad thus been invaded by crime, tame out with the offer of a reward equally as lib- eral, Tho city authorities were prevailed to also offer a third reward, while from Melton Reeves’s attorney in New Orleans came a fourth reward to be advertised, until the one who could dis- cover the murderer would find himself the pos- sessor of a very handsome sum of money, _ The murdered man was taken South to be placed in the bur ing-ground of his ancestors, apd a number of bis friends went along with the body to its last resting-place. Thus two weeks went by and no word had
Page 4
= we Ee rn ne cep = eter te me ‘) oy wwe aa see OSE one ie CE pape ie he) bahay Pgs i eee > eg ae ee ge a, +4, Ea. - we Ath ee Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective, Pi sei La Ry ’ oo > “ come of the discovery of the murderer, nor had the detectives sent out by the chief of police been able to find their man. So as many more were set upon his track, and after two weeks some thirty Secret Service men were working day and night to solve the mys- tery of the murder. nother week went by without result, when the papers came out one morning with the fol- lowing: “TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS will be paid to any one who furnishes information which will lead to the discovery and capture of the murderer of Melton Reeves on the night of March 2d, 18—, in this city. “* Apply to MADISON HARLOWE “No, — ——th Ave., New York.” A young man seated at breakfast in an up- town restaurant read this reward, and said to himself: ‘This makes thirty thousand dollars offered for the discovery of that murderer, and yet no officers of the police, or of the Secret Service, bas been able to win it, *T shall wait just one week, and if the mur- derer is not discovered in that time, I will take a band in the game, for thirty thousand is a handsome sum to earn, even though it be blood- money, ‘* But then there is the old law of the ancients that ‘He who sheds the blood of man, by man shall bis blood be shed,’ and that makes all things even, “Yes, I shall wait just one week, and then take a hand in the affair, if the murderer has not been found,” And just one week after, the young man who had thus mused upon the mysterious case pre- sented himself at the quarters of the chief of police and asked to see that important person- age, : ‘Your name, please?” said the officer on duty. ** Here is my card.” The officer gianced at the card and read, as he walked toward the inner office: ‘* Dick Doom.” ‘What a name,” muttered the officer, and he handed it to the chief, who was busy with his letters, But there was something in the name that caught the chief, and he said curtly: ** Aamit him,” It was with some interest that the chief looked up to behold his visitor, He saw a young man of perheps twenty, with a dark, bandsome face, of calm but determined expression, e was hardly over the medium height, ssessed a slender form, yet one of an athlete, @ was neatly dreseed, in a gray suit, slouch hat and well-polished boots, while he wore gloves, carried @ cane and wore gold-rimmed spectacles, with the glasses having just the sug- gestion of a dark tint. His bair was black and curled about his neck, and, altogether, be was a very attractive per- sonage in appearance, while his voice was low and pleasing as he speke to the chief and said: ** My card introduced me, sir,” “Simply by name, and that is assumed,” and the chief eyed him fixedly. **You are a close reader, sir, as a man in your position should be. ** But, what’s a name after all?” ** Much, if a man is hiding bis own under an alias.” “That is just what Iam doing, chief, and as my name will not interest you, let me be known to you as simply Dick Doom.” * Well, Mr. Dick Doom, what is your business with me?” asked the chief, more and more inter- ested in his visitor, _ To ask, sir, if any of your officers, or Secret Service men have yet won the handsome re- wards offered for the capture of the murderer of Mr. Melton Reeves?” “No, sir, no clew has been yet found of the murderer.” ‘“* May I also ask if you have any one under suspicion?” **T have,” ** Will you tell me who it is?” ‘“* Tf will not.” *T am sorry, for I might help you.” ) * a you any suspicion who the murderer “ Not the slightest.” ‘Then how can you help me?” “ Piaced in ession cf the facts of the case I might be able.to ferret out the mystery.” “You will bave to ferret out the mystery $5 alone then, Mr. Richard Doom,” “ Beg pardon, sir, but I do not aspire to the Heme Bes ; j Re hike git (oe re Yen ge dignified name of Richard, my name being simply Dick Doom.” ‘*See here, who are you?” ‘*A ferret,” was the prompt response of Dick mo, CHAPTER VI, A FERRET. “An! you are a ferret then?’ and the chief turned a still more curious luok upon his visitor. ** Yes, sir.” ** In other words, you are a detective?” “* Yes, sir.” ‘* Sit down, Mr. Doom,” The ferret did so, ‘* Now, to what detective agency do you be- long, for I confess I never heard of you before?” **T do not wonder at that, sir, for I belong to no detective agency.” ** Indeed? “*Can it be that you are a Secret Service man on your own hook?” “Just that, sir; { play a Jone hand.” “Then I hardly feel that I can confide in you, as alone you are not responsible, you know, and I am sorry to say so, for somehow I believe there is stuff in you,” ** Perbaps a guarantee should be given, sir, so suppose you look over your books and see if there is not a reward uncalled for, for informa- tion sent you as to where the murderer, Mad Riley could be found.” “Ab! the man was hanged some months ago.” ‘** Yes, sir, and found on information furnished you by letter signed D, D. ‘*Look over your letter files marked secret correspondence, and see, please; you will find the letter in the third case in that row,” ‘*You seem well posted, indeed, in my af- fairs.” ‘Do not be angry, for I'saw you read the let- ter, taking it from that case,” *“Ha! I never read it to but one person,” “A woman, eh?” “ Y 2,” “That was my day to wear petticoats, and I came in answer to your letter to tell you where Mad Riley could be found. “You set your shadowers on me, but I am what you might call a lightning change artist in the theaters, end after doubling a corner, changed to au old man and met your detective face to face, and of course he did not know me,” ‘Mr, Dick Doom, I am proud to know you,” “Thank you, sir; but as to the guarantee?” ‘“'There is a reward here for you yet uncalled for, if you are the man who sent that letter which led to Riley’s capture.” ‘* As proof I can duplicate the writing on the letter without seeing it; but I do not care for the money now, so bank it for me, please, to draw interest, and meanwhile let me say that you found the diamonds of Miss Ida Sollee, the actress, for in the garb of an officer, you may recall, I brought the prisoner bere one night, gave him over to an officer, with the diamonds and a written statement of the facts of the theft and how I caught bim. “*T stated to the officer that I would return the next day, but I had no intention of doing so, for I cared not to be known; but cxamine my writ- ten statement regarding tbe prisoner, and you will find it in the same writing as my letter about Mad Riley, and instead of my D, D. at the end of it you will find a skeleton form, the throat of which is in the grip of a hand of flesh, signifying another daniel bear as Death Grip. ** See?” “Yes, I do see, that you are a very remark- able personage, Dick Doom, and there is an un- called-for reward here for you now, which was offered for those diamonds of Miss Ida Sollee.” “Bank that reward, also, with Mad Riley’s blood-movey for me, please,” was Dick Doom’s cool request to the chief of police, “Til do 1t; and let.me say that [ need no fur- ther guarantee of mor good faith and ability, 80 will trust you, : my hand on it.” _ “Thank you, sir; I shall be proud of your confidence, and as you have trusted me without & guarantee other than my word, let me ask you to read this,” and taking from bis pocket a paper, be handed it to the chief, who read it carefully through and then said: _ “This certainly gives you a most flattering introduction and recommendation from the chief of police of New Orleans, for it states that though you are not allied to his Secret Service yue, or any other, you can be trusted under all circumstances to the end of the chapter.” I bope you wil) find it so, sir; but I am go- ing to ask a favor of you, cbief?” . Dick Doom, and there ‘is * Wellf” ‘*That you keep my secret as to who I am, for I won my vame of Dick Doom the Death- Grip Detective from the New Orleans chief who knew that I was sure to catch the men I started for and bring them to justice, and in many cases they were men of the Mafia, ** Now, I am working on a hobby of my own, a trail I am determined to track to theend, and in doing this I come across all phases of crime and criminals, and thus render good service though I never earn blood-money without some degree of repugnance, ‘Not to one of your officers, or to a man ip the Secret Service Leagues of New York am I known as you see me to-day; and yet I know every one on your force by sight and name, am acquainted with all the detectives, and assure you that not one of them could track me to my abiding place, or could tell meas I am, ‘*And thus, chief, I desire to remain for reasons of my own,” ‘*T shall keep your secret, Mr. Doom, as you request,” “Thank you, sir; but now to the murderer of Mr, Reeves?” : ‘* Have you a clew?” **T have not.” ‘*Have you a theory?” : have all the newspaper accounts, sir, that is all, ** And you think you can find the murderer?® **1 can try, sir. ‘* Well, my belief is that he was dogged from the Quid Nunc by an ex-club member, who had visited him there that night and gotten money from him,” “Do you know bis name?” “Yes, Valentine Gibson— Ha!” Dick Doom had suddenly sprung to his feet at hearing the name, but as quickly said: ‘**Thank you, I will write it down, ‘* Good-morning, sir.” The chief bowed and Dick Doom left the room, Instantly the chief stepped to a door near and called: ‘* Ferret Frank.” ‘Yes, sir.” ** Follow the man who just passed out and re- port all you can about him.” CHAPTER VII. FERRET FRANK'S REPORT. THE chief of police had been much impressed with his strange visitor. He had discovered in him a certain reserve force, a self-confidence that was very sure to win, At times his manner arose to impressiveness, again he was light and airy and then sarcastic, but always decided, And all the time he spoke in that low, musica) voice that was very winning. “Well, be is a mystery in himself, this Mr. Dick Doom,” muttered the chief when he was. again alone. ‘He is ona trail of his own, and meanwhile helps justice as be goes along. ‘*He is beyond finding out, for I could not read him any more than I could a Chinee Laundry bill, , ‘‘ But there was one thing caught him off his guard, and that was when [ told him the name of the man I suspected cf the murder of Melton Reeves, ‘“* He did start and his lips were compressed ; but inasecond he was serene asa June day, and yet he showed that he knew the man, or had heard of him. ‘* Now, to see if he will find him. ‘Tf he does he will get thirty thousand dollars in cash, and I now hold for bim two rewards of five thousand each, and yet the fellow does not seem to need money, “The chief at New Orleans said to trust bim as I would myself, and that isa strong recom- mendation. j ‘**T shall keep his secret, as I promised, but Ferret Frank will give me some points that will help me, for I do not wish to act wholly in the dark, ‘“‘ Ferret Frank has never yet failed me on any ease, 80 he will find out_what I wish to know re- garding this Mr, Dick Doom,” So mused the chief, as he glanced over his letters, his mind running upon the strange Secret Service man rather than upon the business be- fore him just then. But Ferret Frank did not return that day, and when the chief entered his office the next morning the first thing he asked was for the detective. mie a ‘* Not reported yet, sir,” was the answer. ¥ ‘ 4 d * t ee Sey dP kee Neate thy ty iz -h* Sy ot - 4 ae a, ix git ¥ shes 1 nt : y 4 oe PME. bg ert ha fi ahh 4 fr = an BaP tS si Oa AD. ES Saini ee ~
Page 5
ee 4 + Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective. | \ ' A frown crossed the cbief’s brow, He began to feel anxious about theman whom he bad had most reason to rely upon for Secret Service work. “Tf he does not show up by ten I will send searchers out for him—ab! bere he is now,” and Ferret Frank entered the room, Seeing that he was safe the chief coolly went op with his work, and only after several minutes said: ‘* Well, Ferret Frank, what of my man?” Before the detective could make reply an old woman entered the room, her voice raised to a bigh pitch. “Tm glad to see yer, cap’n, deed I am, for I has heerd my son Bennie speak of you so often and often. ‘*)’m deaf, don’t yer know, so yer must talk ter me through this ear-trumpet—there! now, what did yer say, cap’»?” **T asked you who Bennie was, and what I could do for you, madam?” said the polite chief, speaking loudly turough the ear-trumpet, ‘Lord sakes! you nearly split my drum, cap’n, talking so loud, “When yer talks through a trumpet yer mustn’t talk so loud.” ‘I beg pardon, madam, but—” ** Louder, please, for you is whispering now,” The chief had still spoken in a loud tone, but raised bis voice and said: “**Whbo is your son, Bennie, madam, that speaks of me so often?” y ** Lord sakes! don’t know Bennie Lathrop, one 0’ yer capt’ins o’ perlice? * He told me ter come right here, if I missed him at ther boat, and wait for him, ‘* Didn’t yer know he was a-’specting me?” ‘*Oh, yes, madam, and lam glad to welcome ‘you in his stead, ‘He will soon be here, as he has missed you g0 sit right over there and wait for him, an soon as I transact some business with this gen- tleman I will entertain you,” The chief led the old lady to an easy-chair, and she sat down and became at once interested in the pictures on the wall, while the chief, turning to the detective, said: * Now, Ferret Frank, I'll hear your report, for the old lady is deaf as a post, and she’s Captain Lathrop’s ‘mother, so will wait for him bere. ‘¢ Well, chief, please tell me who that was you sent me on the track of yesterday.” ‘“That is what I wished you to find out.” ‘¢ Well, I didn’t do it, sir.” “ Why ?” “He was the most Will-o’-the-wisp to track I ever tackled.” “* How so?” ( ‘* Well, sir, he went from here to a restaurant and bad some breakfast, as I also did to watch him, “Then he walked up to Union Square and got into a cab, ‘*T took another and followed, ‘‘It led me a merry chase and at last drew up a the Harlem station and out got a young ad Rd You had followed the wrong cab?” “T didn’t think so, sir, so concluded to fol- low the girl, “She took the train back to Forty-second street, got out there and went to the Grand Union Hotel, and I felt 1 was wrong, for I saw that sbe had a valise, and the man bad not, ‘Sbe registered as ‘Miss Richards, New Haven,’ and I secured a room next to her. ‘Tn the night, thinking she’had re ired, I was about to come and report, when a knock came at my door, a stranger entered, and would you believe it, chief, he held me up, bound me and robbed me, ““T was released by the clerk this morning, and was told that Miss Richards had left at mid- night, A “That's all I know, sir, 80 you sea I madea mess of it.” “ All right, Ferret Frank, better luck next time; now I will entertain Ben’s mother,” and he turned to the old lady as the detective left the room, “Let me give you Ferret Frank’s things I took from bim last night, chief,” came in low tones from the su ed old woman and the chief recognized now the voice of Dick Doom. CHAPTER VIII. OUTWITTED. At first the chief was inclined to be angry, when he recognized in ‘* Cap’n Bennie’s mother” none otber than Dick Doom, But he smoothed his ruffled brow and laughed, as he said: “Well, Dick Doom, you have done me com- pletely.” ‘“*T did not wish to impose upon you, but I am glad to bave been able to show you how easily you can be deceived,” ; “T am glad that I witnessed it with my own eyes or I would not have believed it,” said the chief with a smile. “*T told you, sir, that I knew your officers and men, and happening to know that your friend Captain Lathrup was expecting his old mother to visit bim, [ discovered that the boat she was coming On was a couple of hours late, so I decided to impersonate the old lady and reach here when Ferret Frank did.” ‘‘Then you were the supposed girl he fol- lowed?” ** Oh, yes, sir, for I knew he was shadowing me the moment I left, and that you had seut him.’ ‘** But the change you made?” ‘* Tt was easily done, sir, for, as I told you I was a change artist, ‘* But, I knew you looked upon Ferret Frank as one of your best men, if not the best, and [ was aware Of his skill and courage, ** Still I determined to rope him in, and in the |. disguise of a clergyman I entered his room, held him at bay with my revolver, put the bracelets upon him and a.gag in his mouth, ‘** Then I robbed him, and here is bis watch, chain and money, sir.” ‘* You are indeed a wonder, Dick Doom, for that man is a giant in strength.” “The battle is not always to the strong, siF, nor the race to the swift; but I must not delay here as Captain Lathrop may come in with his real mother.” * Tell me, what about the man you were to seek?” “ As you had a detective on my track, sir, I had to throw him off, so could not capture Val- entine Gibson,” ** You think you can do so?” ‘* fT know it, sir,” “You are very confident.” ‘J will bring your man here to-morrow, sir.” ‘* You mean it?” roe never break a promise, chief, to friend or foe. “ T believe you, and— but pardon me one mo- ment, while I dispatch some men on certain work,” The chief crossed to the outer door, turned from tbe hall into the waiting-room of men on duty, and called Ferret Frank to him, ** Get two of your best men and follow the old woman bow in my office. F ** Don disguises and lose no time, for I can de- tain her but a short while.” ‘Captain Lathrop’s mother, sir?” asked Fer- ret Frank in surprise. . Yes,” and the chief returne| to his room, Whether or not he knew that ho could have been seen, had he moved, as when the chief left any Ove alone in bis room, there was a watch who at once stepped to an eye-hole com- manding a view of any part of it, Dick Doom did not move from his chair, and when the chief returned was as demure aa a real old lady would have been, After a few minutes’ longer conversation with the chief, Dick Doom took his leave, going out as he had entered, impersonating Captain Lathrop’s mother. The detectives were already on the watch out- side for him, and yet be seemed not to suspect their presence Hardly had! he been gone five minutes when Captain Lathrop drove up to the door, with his mother in the carriage with him, ‘Your mother has been here, captain, and left five minutes ago,” said the officer on duty at the door, ‘“My mother is bere with me now, Burns,” “Not that lady, sir?” ‘ “Yes, that lady, though she is young-looking to have a son like me.” : ‘* Why, that isn’s the one that was here, sir.” Captain Lathrop wanted an explanation, and was told how his mother had arrived and waited in the chief’s room. In he went, and the chief said quickly: ‘* How many mothers have you, Ben?” * One is all I claim.” ; “ Well, one old lady, deaf as a post, was here to claim you, but she has gone,” _ ** Chief, what does this mean?” p “Simply that an old woman Reyes it On me as cunning as a fox, preteuding to be deaf, and overheard a conversation between Ferret Frank and myself, ‘* She has just left.” **Can’t you catch her?” **T have three detectives on her track,” ‘Good! but I hope she heard nothing of im- portance,” “Fortunately, no; but 1 will go out to the carriage and meet your other mother, Ben,” and the chief smiled, “And what is your opinion regarding the bogus one, chief?” “That she is a very clever man, Ben,” was the reply. The chief had a pleasant chat with the mother of his favorite captain, and then returned to his room, “Several hours after, Ferret Frank putin an appearance, and the chief looked up from bis work‘and said simply: Well?” **Sbe threw me, sir.” ** Indeed, and how ?” “She went into the ladies’ entrance of tho Grand Central Hotel, gave the man on duty there a card and a dollar, and when he left, locked the door and skipped up-stairs, “Tran around through the main entrance, where I had sent my two men, and we went up- Stairs in search of her. “She was not to be found, and the man at the door said she had given him a card to hand personally to General Cole, and no such man is in the hotel. e ‘* He could not tell us how she escaped,” ‘* Did you look in the parlor?” “Yes, sir, but there was only a pretty young indy there,” he chief smiled and said: . “You should have followed the young lady, Ferret Frank, “The old lady outwitted you.” CHAPTER IX, VALENTINE GIBSON, ON the top floor of an humble residence upon Brooklyn Heights, was a cheery, large room overlooking a vast expanse of territory, an with a busy scene of sips and river in full view. The room held a single occupant, and he was standing by the window apparently enjoying the scene, He was in dressing-gown, smoking-cap and slippers, and had the appearance of one reared in refinement, though his face was stam with Gissipation and be wore a haggard look, as though recovering from an attack of illness, Tbere were books upon shelves, a guitar lying on the sofa, a pair of foils and mask banging on the wall, some writing materials upon the table, and a few unfinisbed sketches from the scene upon the river, with its steamers and sail- ing vessels flying about, A pair of boxing-gloves, with dumb-bells and Indian clubs were in a corner, showing a sport- ing and athletic taste in the occupant of the room, But for ail these, his guitar, foils and sketch- ing, he seemed to be filled with dissatisfaction at his lot. ‘Curses! how much longer wil) this last? ** T suppose until { grow long hair and bear to disguise me, so that I can get out of this in- fernal roost, ‘**But the days drag along, the nights are terrible, and when I think it may be weeks be- fore I dare leave I almost become crazed. ‘““T know that I am suspected, though there has not been a single reference in the papers re- garding me, ‘Not a line about my going to the club and leaving after he did, : ‘‘ But this very silence about me proves that the police suspect me and are watching for me. so I dare not venture out until all blows over an a beard and long hair will disguise me, ** Fortunately, the clergyman’s suit I wore at that last masquerade I attended will disguise me, : “And then, how fortunate I was to engage this room the very day of—the murder.” hn He started as he heard a step on the stairs, — and then continued: “The old lady and her daughter are kind to me, and as I pay them a big price will be glad to keep me here, for there are no houses opposite with prying people in the windows, and here [ am safe— Come in!” ** Yes, but I enjoy them.” e I bope you mo, better, sir?” SAL 4 ** Yes, I am steadily improving, and suppose » ; will be able to go home ina couple of co 8,0r
Page 6
en -_— S SS ak ae Se “4 APS wii 3 Go OT ea ee i a em Oe ae Tae = = 2 TR j a ee ath Pasian ce Ate: ote NF mi Lee ad NF eee ath) Fagen \ by t _ ¥ ATE ff. 4 *5 ; "SS 6 Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective. a month at furthest, and you and your mother ** Come! hold out your hands, Gibson,” “ A goodly sum fora pauper, yet hardly suf- will doubtless be delighted to get rid of me.” ‘No, indeed, Mr. Gibson; we will be sorry, for we wish you were a steady boarder, as you have not been any trouble and pay us so well.” “Well, withm a month I will be able to go, but if I leave before will pay you for the whole time.” ** And what will you have for supper, sir?” ** Anything you choose to bring me; but have you other boarders?” ** No, sir; we only rent this room to help along, for it just keeps us even, you know,” and dea- positing the papers on the table the landlady’s daughter left the room, more than ever pleased with their handsome boarder, Supper was brougbt up soon after nightfall, and the boarder was still conning over the efter- noon papers, for he had all of them that were is- sued, as also all the New York dailies each The mau glanced about him like a wolf at bay. His eyes fell upon his dumb bells, Indian clubs, and last upon the foils. For an instant it was in his mind to seize one .of them, and fight for his life; but the captor in petticoats never wavered, and only pressed the revolver harder against his heart, repeating the command: ** Hold out your hands!” Mechanically the man obeyed, and there came the click! click! as, with his left hand the de- tective clasped the “‘ darbies ” upon his wrists, Then the man in disguise stepped back, low- ered his revolver and said: ‘*T am sorry, madam, to make you the witness of such a scene; but I tracked this man to your house weeks ago, the day be came, and have kept a watcb upon him ever since, ** I was seeking bim then for another crime, or rather crimes committed far from here; but ficient to tempt a man to take a life on his con- science and risk the gallows; but then you have become callous of murder. ‘Yes, this will bang you, Valentine Gibson, so I need not bring up honorable names in a scandal, to hang you upon other counts.” ‘My God! what do you mean?” “Pll tell you,” was the cool reply of Dick Doom,. CHAPTER XI. A PAGE FROM THE PAST, “Yes, Pil tell you, that is, Valentine Gibson, refresh your memory by reading a leaf from the ast. Pa I will call up reminiscences which can not fail to interest you. ‘*T have heard it said that some ten years ago there died in old Kentucky a rich stock farmer who had ar only son, a wild, wayward fellow morning. He ate sparingly of his supper, then turned to | now I arrest him as the murderer of Mr. Melton | who gambled heavily and was fast breaking his his papers again. Reeves, old father’s heart, ‘Fortunately nothing as yet about me; but that doorkeeper knows me well and surely must have spoken of my being there that night and why I came, “This silence is what arouses my suspicion more and more, for I am sure the police sought mein my old quarters. Lucky it is I covered up my tracks so well in coming here. ** Now, to count my cash, as usual,” and he took from his pocket a leather wallet in which there were a number of bank-notes of various denominations, ** Just six bundred is all I have to start anew in the world in some far-away spot from here, **Oh! that I had kept the two fortunes I once had, one inherited the other gained by— Bah! I even fear to speak the word, ‘“*But, 1 am nervous with this new shadow banging over me— Ah!” e uttered the word ina half cry, as a knock came at the door, Thrusting the money and leather case into the pocket of his dressing gown he called out: ** Come in!” The landlady’s daughter appeared. _“*Ob! Mr, Gibson, I hope you wil! excuse me, but I told mother that you intended to give up our room in a month, and to-night a dear old ady, a clergyman’s wife called in to see if she could get accommodated in about a month, and may we show her your room?” ‘* A lady, you said?” x: Yes, sir. But, she is old, so you need not fix any. “Ts she alone?” “ Yes, sir.” **Ob, yes, show her the room of course, You have my consent,” **Come, mother!” called the girl,and up the stairs came the landlady followed by the room- seeker, ‘ This is the room, ma’am,” said the landlady, “and you see that it is very large, has an alcove, with closets, bath and all conveniences right handy.” * Yes, I see, I see,” and the woman stepped into the room, drew near to the occupant, and, with a sudden movement, covered him with a revolver while she cried: “Yes, and I also see the man I seek, the murderer of Melton Reeves, Hold out your bands, Gibson!” CHAPTER X. DICK DOOM AND HIS PRISONER, A GROAN from Valentine Gibson, now white _ as death, two exclamations from the landlady and her daughter, and the stern words of the “*T must encroach upon your kindness to per- mit me to remain here with him ail night, and to call me a carriage at eight sharp in the morn- ing, after you have finished breakfast, for all of which you shall be liberally paid. ‘*See! I wil) discard these skirts, and show myself in my proper person,” As quick as is done by actors on the stage, the waist and skirts were discarded, the bonnet came off and Dick Doom was revealed. ‘ r Wal, I declare!” cried the astonished land- ady. ‘** Now, madam, permit me to show you my badge as an officer, that you may know there is no mistake, and then you can, with your daugh- ter, feel perfectly safe in leaving me here with my prisoner,” He threw back his coat as he spoke, and upon bis vest wasa gold badge of unique and weird design. It was a human skeleton of gold, with dia- monds set in the sockets of the skull, silver manacles upon the wrists and ankles, and an arm of the same precious metal from the shoul- der down, the hand grasping the bony thrcat in a tight grip, while upon the little finger of the hand was aruby ring. ; This remarkable image was hung by a gold chain to a shield, upon which was the following lettering, in tiny diamonds; ‘Dick Doom, ** The Death-Grip Detective,” The landlady and her daughter looked at the badge in an awed manner, the former calculat- “ing as well asshe could its value, and confident that a man who could waar such a badge must be a very important personage, So sheand her daughter retired, and the pris- oner was left with his captor, Dropping into anotber easy-chair that was in pi room, Dick Doom faced his prisoner and said: ‘* Well, Gibson, I have got you at last.” es ey at your mercy, it is true; but who are ou?” . ‘Dick Doom!” ‘““Ah! I have heard of such a man in New Orleans,” ‘““T am from that city, and I have been on your track just three years, Gibson,” The prisoner started and said quickly: ** Then you do not accuse me of the murder of Melton Reeves?” : ; “Ob, yes, and that is the charge I am going to hang you on.” “You can never do it.” ‘At last, maddened by some heinous act of ras son the father determined to disinherit im, ‘* Before be could do so the farmer was taken suddenly ill and died, “* Rumors became ugly after the burial, about the son baving poisoned his father, and so there were those who insisted that the body should be taken up and the truth known, ‘The very night before it was done, a party of medical students, it was said, came out from Louisville and stole the body. ‘Of course that ended the investigation, and — witbout proof the youth was not arrested, and soon after sold his belongings for cash, and left for parts unknown, ‘**] happen to know, however, that those medi- cal students received a letter, telling how the farmer died of a peculiar disease, and how they could get the body, ‘That letter I have, and it was written by the. son, which, together with the testimony of the students, who found poison‘in the stomach of the dead man, would hang him,” ‘* What is all this to me?” ‘*Simply that you are that youth, that is all.” “It is false!” ‘* Well, whether false or true, this youth ran through his fortune quickly, and some years after turned up in New Orleans as a gentleman gambler, and a lucky one, ‘“‘ Befriending a rich young planter one night, in fact, saving him from assassination by killing one of his assailants, he won his way to the Southerner’s heart, was taken to his home, and presented to his sister, a mere gir] of sixteen, ‘“* He won her heart, too, and discovering that she was joint heir with her brother in a vast es- tate, he married her secretly, and paid an ally to get her brother into a duel, and by foul means rid himself of him, “Tt worked to a charm for this murderer; the brother was killed, the sister got all the wealth, and soon after the girl-wife, not yet seventeen years of age, was drowned one night while boat- ing on the river. **Sbe bad made a will, leaving all to ber mur- derous busband, and he, disposing of his estate, went on his travels in foreign lands, returning: after half a dozen years to settlo in New York, ‘* He became a fast man about town, belonged to several] clubs, and all went well until his money was run through with, when he began to cheat at cards and was dismissed the club and cut by bis friends. ‘*So he went on the downward scale until he got so poor, became such a vagabond, that he decided to go back to his old practices to get Soe pretended woman came almost together, “Tf I fail to hang you for the murder of Mr, | money—that is, to kill, The accused man was the first to speak, | Reeves, then I will send you to the gallows on| ‘So he visited the club where once he had f though he did not move as he fell back in his | two other charges.” been an honored member, and sent in his name. “ap chair, The man shuddered, but said in a manner in- | to one who was a generous, noble-souled man, te “ Do not let him take me away, for I did not | tended for indifference: a cousin of his girl-wife, iar murder Melton Reeves,” he gasped in almost * You bave made a mistake in your man.” “That man came out and was struck for a a pitiful accents, m6 uae Te: loan, and in pity for one who had once been ime Emboldened by his words, the landlady said: | “You certainly have.” his friend, the husband of his much loved. iM. “See here, ma’am, I know this gentleman. ** We shall see, as soon as we have settled the | cousin, be gave him aid. he a He has not done any wrong—it is impossible | fact that you killed Melton Reeves,” “Did the vagabond murderer stop there? 2 ma’am; you are mistaken,” ‘* It’s catching before hanging.” ‘* Ah, no! he rg his benefactor from the a “It is not a woman; but a man—a detective} ‘‘ And you are caught.” club, crept up behind him, unheard, unseen in = in disguise,” said Valentine Gibson, ** You have no proof.” in the blinding, howling storm, and drovea oy, ‘Great heavens! A detective,” the} ‘‘ What is this?” and quick as a flash the de- | knife into his throat, thus killing him. Jandlady, while her daughter boldly advanced | tective snatched from the pocket of the man’s| ‘He had hoped to get a large sum of money, . id asked: dressing-gown the wallet and money, but missing it seized his pocketbook and fled, A: ‘| Are you a man?” — g In manacies as he was the prisoner could not | leaving the snow to become a winding sheet for: fis ‘Tam, and a detective, so beware not to trifle | reeist, and dropped back into his chair as he be- | his murdered friend.” q witb an officer of thelaw, ‘ held the revolver suddenly leveled at his face, “Tt is falee! I did not kill Melton Reeves,” ff a } Tois man is Valentine Gibson, a murderer, | ‘Ah! the pocketbook of Melton Reeves, for| ‘Who did!” — . ; and I came bere to arrest him, here is his name upon it, ‘*T do not know,” fei ite “If he resists I sball killhim. If hedoesnot | ‘Yes, and considerable money, too, just six | ‘Then prove that you did not.” : E resist. then there will be no trouble. hundred dollars, ° “I did not, upon my honor.” x & ; ; ie ° i f + te ae : ‘ | 4 LU P ‘ beeawA. S Fy car & 3 LS ie oe Me kisi’ en BAS Ae sia SMR GND ics ik heat ae a Paki wth r - of hs we Ea we = a 4 atente = Ciel: te aa . eee ee a _— es a =
Page 7
Bev Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective, CEE gee eee ace Ne “ Your honor? ‘The bonor of one who murdered his father, his brother-in-law, his girl-wife.” ‘Tt is false! I did not murder them,” ‘“*] have the proof that you poisoned your father, that you entrapped your brother-in-law into the duel with your hired tool, who killed him, when you, acting as second for his adver- sary, did not put a bullet in bis pistol, and more, that your wife was drowned by those whom you paid big money for the work.” “You have no such proof,” ; “JT have, and more, that you forged the will leaving you her beir. ‘ “T have proof to hang you for these crimes, Valentine Gibson, but rather than dig open old graves, reopen old wounds, drag honorable names into the courts and tarnisb them with scandal, I will hang you upon evidence I have to convict you of the murder of Mr, Melton Reeves.” ‘* What evidence have you?” ‘tTn the first place that you had been dismissed the club, and in the second that you had become a vagabond, ~. ‘Inthe third place that you wrote a note to Mr. Reeves begging bis aid to start life anew in a foreigno land. ‘“* Again that you went to the club, according to your letter, the doorkeeper admitted you, saw you speak to Mr. Reeves, saw him give you some money, and was aware that you noticed a large roll of bills be had, ‘“* You waited in the alcove of the vestibule until Mr, Reeves left, followed him, and now you have his wallet and his money. ‘“* Need I say more, Valentine Gibson?” ‘Great God! I am guiltless of his murder, but circumstantial evidence will surely hang me,” groaned the unbappy man. ‘*Tt surely will,” was the stern response of Dick Doom, and he added: ‘* When I set out on the trail of a proven mur- derer, 1 surely track him to the gallows,” CHAPTER XII. A PROMISE KEPT, THE night passed away without sleep for either man. ; The prisoner leaned back in his easy-chair, turned his back to the detective and the light, but so placed himself that he could see the latter in a mirror and watcb his every movement, The detective did not appear to have seen the mirror, but took a book and sat down to read, At last his head drooped, his book dropped from his hand, and the prisoner saw in the glase that it was his chance. \ He arose softly, was moving toward a dumb- bell, when without moving his position the de- tective said: ‘“* Don’t disturb yourself, Gibson, for I am not asleep, only giving youa chance to show your hand. D The prisoner uttered a suppressed oath, and sbuffled back to his seat as well as he could with his manacled ankles. ’ Then the detective resumed his reading, and gd night dragged slowly on. ith the morning the landlady brought breakfast, the detective handed her ten dollars, and suid that he would take the key of the pris- oner’s room, A carriage was sent for and Dick Doom said: “See here, Gibson, to save trouble I shall disguise you, 80 you can reach the police chief unknown, é “Fortunately the prevailing style of ladies’ enables me to carry plenty of disguises, for see, here is a wig, beard and bat, and | shall have you appear as 4 countryman, while I go as your wife, e “It’s a queer conceit, but it will win in the long run, see if it don’t. “A few changes will make me a nice old lady from New Jersey. aes He had disguised bis prisoner, and with one hand in bis coat pocket and locked there, the other was left free, Then he said; “Don’t try to escape, for you cannot do go, and I do not intend you shall. “ Come, the carriage is here.” He locked the door, took the key and pasted over the key-hole a seal stamped with the in- signia of his badge. : “*T will return later, madam,” he said, and the landlady escorted him to the door. ““ Your arm, busband,” said the pretended old lady and the grip she took of the free arm ex- tended by the prisoner showed him he was in the hands of one who had wonderful strength as well as nerve, “‘ Drive to the Headquarters of the New York chief of police,” said the supposed woman. The two entered and the carriage rolled away, In good time it drew up at Police Head- quarters, and the detective said. ‘*Come, husband.” ~ Again came that grip upon the arm and the two entered the quarters and the supposed wo- man asked to see the chief, “Tell bim we know where a noted criminal can be found,” Dick Doom said as an incentive for aa immediate audience, The chief was going over the reports of his captains, a cigar between his lips, and now and then wondering if Detective Dick Doom would keep bis promise, “Show tbem in,” hesaid when the detective and his prisoner were announced as; ‘* A She and He Hayseed from Jersey,” who knew where a much wanted criminal was to be found.” ‘Be you the giviral?”’ asked Dick Doom with a courtesy. ‘“*T am the Chief of Police of New York, madan, ** How can I serve you.” ‘Waal, yer oughter be a giniral ef yer hain’t, fer yer commands a hull army o’ blue- coats which makes war on all disreputable in the town, “1m glad ter meet yer.” * As 1 am to meet you, madam,” said the chief with a smile, ‘This are my old man, Elijab Plunk, gineral, alias Valentine Gibson the murderer,” ‘* Great God! you are Dick Doom?” cried the amazed chief, ‘Tam, but not to be known as such by other than yourself, “‘T disguised this man to get bim here in safe- ty, for he is worth a clear thirty thousand dol- lars. “ And this is Valentine Gibson?” The detective at once unmasked his prisoner, folding the wig, beard and other disguises up carefully, and stuffing them in a rear pockot of his dress, The chief gazed into the face of the man be- fore him. ‘Yes, you are Valentine Gibson, for T recog- nize you now, as we have met before, sir, when you were in better luck than now, “You look ill, sir,” and the chief’s manner was not unkind, ‘Do you wonder that I look ill, when I have felt that I would be accused of the murder of Melton Reeves, my best friend, simply because { called on him at the club to ask him to help me begin life anew?” ‘*-You deny your guilt then?” ** Indignantly, I do, for Reeves was the onl man of my old friends who would not turn bis back upon me,” “Why did oe follow him from the club?” ‘“* Because I wished to speak to him away from the eyes of the club servants, ‘** He walked rapidly, I had been $1] and was too weak to catch up with him easily in the, snow-storm.” “ And then?” ‘* As I drew near him a man stepped out from behind a tree, there was a struggle, a fall, and then the murderer darted by me at full speed, throwing, 48 he did go, a leather wallet on the snow, “He did not see me, I really believe, as he mt [ picked up the pocketbook, and dread pic up the etbook, and dreadin discovery then, ran ze 2 «When I got home I saw that the pocketbook bad been rifled of all in it, except a five hundred doilar-bill in a secret opening in the end. “It was poor Reeves’s pocketbook, and your detective there has it,” “It isin that package laid on your table, chief,” said Dick oats. The chief opened the package and glanced at the contents, Then he said: ‘Where did you get these?” ‘ ‘The pocketbook from the prisouer’s dressing- gown pocket, the other things from his room, which I have locked and sealed, and am ready to conduct you to, sir, at your leisure.” ‘Permit me to say that you have done excel- lently well, far surpassed my expectations, for the proof against your prisoner is all that could be asked,” said the chief in a low tone to the detective. But the prisoner caught the words, and said: ‘It is as [ feared, the reason I hid, for I felt that you had your’hounds of the law upon my track, and I saw that circumstantial evidence would hang me,” **'You are yet to be tried, sir, so are innocent until proven guilty.” ‘“A mere figure of speech; but answer me one question, chief,” ** Well, Mr, Gibson?” ‘Who is that man?” ** Candidly, I do not know.” “Or refuse to tell?” “No, I am whilly unacquainted with him other than to call him by the name he gave me as his own, and to say that he kept his promise to me, which was to deliver you into my hands this morning, a feat which not one of the Secret Service men, urged by large rewards, could do, ‘*Now, Mr. Gibson, J must send you to the Tombs,” and the chief sharply touched a bell upon his table, CHAPTER XIII. DICK DOOM’S DEFIANCE, In response to the bell of the chief, « police- man entered, ‘* Ring for the black coach, and order aguerd of four officers.” “Yes, sir,” and the prisoner’s face blanched still whiter as soon after there came into the room the four cflicers, “Secure that man properly and carry him to the Tombs, entering bim as Valentine Gibson, the suspected murderer uf Melton Reeves.” The officers started as they heard the name, and glanced at the prisoner, It wasin their minds about the reward, and who had been the lucky one to win it, They glanced at the woman, but the look of serene ignorance upon'the face of Dick Doom puzzled them, ‘Tell the warden to allow no one to see the oa until further orders from me,” said the chief. The prisoner arose and faced his guards, calm- ly holding out his hands, while be said: “Yes, lam Valentine G.bson, officers, and as to the reward, you are 1 tin it a Jittle bit,’ He had already assumed an air of bravado, ‘* Hold not a word of conversation with the map,” sternly ordered the chief, and the prisoner was led away. a Now, Mr, Doom, permit me to congratulate ou,” : a ** Thank you, sir, and may I ask you to colleet the rewards and bank them for me with the amounts already in your bands?” ‘Certainly; it shall be done at once,” ‘‘ There is no hurry, sir.” ‘*Now, let me ask you how you captured him?’ ‘As I said, sir, [ was here ona trail of my own, and Valentine Gibson was the man I was after, so I bad known his whereabouts for some time, intending to take him with me South, for let me tell you, though in strict confidence, that the man can be hanged for other crimes; yet, as it would involve homes, I care not to drag out for pubhe gaze, I will be satisfied to see him hang for the murder of Melton Reeves, ‘**Sbould he, by the contradictions of the acts of an often fickle Justice, Saupe the gallows as the murderer of Reeves, then [ am ready to see ps he still goes to it fcr his other deeds of guilt. ‘* Of course this is between ourselves, chief.” ‘** Certainly, I shall so hold your confidence: but may I ask where Captain Lathrop’s mother Mee Tee ORY after leaving me?” and the chief smil . Dick Doom laughed, ‘ It was a low, merry, musical burst of laugh- ter, and bis face lighted up with strange fascina- tion under its influence. “*T dodged your Shadowing Sharks, chief.” ** But how?” “IT went to the Grand Central Hotel, left Fer- ret Frank locked on the outsie of the ladies’ en- trance, skipped up to the second floor to the toi- let-room, made a few quick changes in my ap- pearance, for I always go prepared age hing that may turn up, and your three shadowers gazed nerenely at me as I gat in the parlor, while one kindly told me the time so that 1 could set my watch.” f ‘‘Sae here, were you ever an actor, Dick Doom?” ‘* All men are, sir,” and women too for that matter.” That is evasive,” “Yes, I have acted, and in some strange, thrilling tragedies,” was the response in a tone full of earnestness, ‘* Well, Mr, Doom, let me make you a prom- ise bow? _* Yes, sir.” “T will not again send my Shadower Sharks,
Page 8
ue x re eo ee he) on ie aS as you are pleased tocall my Secret Service men, again upon your track,” ‘ ‘* Why not, chief, for I do not mind,” ‘* You do not?” “No, sir.” “You think you can always throw them off the scent?” ¥ **Oh yes, I know I can.” ** You are over confident, [ fear.” ‘‘It is my confidence that compels success,” “T have some fine men, Ferret Frank, Gordon the Thief-taker, Iron Touch, and as good a man as ever wore a badge among my officers is Michael Kane.” ‘‘ All splendid men, and I know them all, sir,” ** You do know them?” ‘© Oh yes,” “TI never heard one of them speak of you, or any other man that I now recall,” “They may not know me as Dick Doom, sir,” was the significant reply. 3 Ab!” ** Or even as a detective,” ‘¢ Very true.” “Now I have often given Michael Kane inters on people, as I halted for a moment on bis st at Twenty-third street and Broadway.” ** He bas told me that he has had some good friends, who he really could not say, that have 2 helped him with information that was of value, “Perhaps I was the friends under different personalities,” ‘ ‘You fairly mystify me, Doom, though I deal in mysteries.” “‘T shall be glad to do all I can to belp you, sir, as I shall remain here for some time, my personal work not being vet completed.” ‘* How can I find yau if I need you?” **T will report daily, sir, if you will pal give mea countersign, aud let your man on duty know that any one giving it shall be at once ad- mitted to your presence.” “You mean only for yourself?’ “Yes, sir; but I don’t know who_I may be when I come,” “T understand; but now let me ask if you will not take a place as special on my staff?” ‘* Thanking you, I must decline.” **T am sorry.” “‘T must remain free, be my own master; but if you wish to shadow me | give you full per- mission,” and Dick Doom departed, while the chief said: ** Egad, Vl] take him at his word, accept his defiance tarown down, for foxy as he is I’]l un- earth bim,” and two minutes after three detec- tives were on the track of ‘‘ Mrs, Elijah Plunk, of New Jersey.” CHAPTER XIV, THE UNFORGOTTEN FACE, THE next morning’s papers came out with the story of the capture of the murderer of Mr. Mel- ton Reeves, Of course the chief of police, and all con- nected with him, had been severely abused for their lack of grey eae and cunning, in not find- ing some clew to the murderer, Bat now, when the story was told how the one-time friend of Mr, Reeves had been the man wanted all the while, and to prevent his escape, no suspicion had been cast upon bim, and thus he had been quietly run down, the papers all praised the chief’s sagacity. Nor were the public more in the dark as to just who bad captured the man than were the men of the force. The latter felt sure that their chief had been the real captor, and would get the reward, And learning that he had been captured on Brooklyn Heights, the police of the City of Churches invited each other to kick them when- ever they met, ‘ The officer on the beat that went by the land- lady’s house had a fit when he heard it, and was carted off to the bospital to get over the effects of losing thirty thousand dollars which he had, as he expressed it afterward: * Right afther being in my inside pocket, bad ‘cess to mesilf as me father’s fool.” he chief, with the Brooklyn head of the force, visited the rooms of the prisoner, and the things were overhauled, The landlady told them that the captor had been back, looked over all and left a note for the New York chief on the table, for be told her that he would call, He also told her under no circumstances to say anything for publication more than that a de- \ tective bad called there and captured the pris- oner, whom she and her daughter-had regarded as an elegant gentleman who was an invalid. The effects of the prisoner, excepting his clothing, which was sent to him, were removed to Headquarters, and as nothing could be found out regarding the affair, all kinds of ridiculous comments were daily made upon the subject. The prisoner had sought counsel, and bad re- fused to talk to the newspaper men, more than to say that in spite of appearances be was not guilty. His attorney said that he had a good case, and so affairs started out for and against the prisoner. In the minds of the club men not a doubt re- mained as to the guilt of the prisoner. It was upon the principle of giving a doga bad name and everything would be believed of im. Melton Reeves, though a late member of the Quid Nune Club, was the most popular man in it. He had been foully murdered, and the club willingly paid the reward for the capture of bis alleged murderer, and determined to do aJl they could to hang bim. Mr. Madison Harlowe the millionaire also gave a check for the reward he had offered, and all other sams were paid in, even before it was proven that Valentine Gibson was really the man who had assassinated the one who had be- friended bim. The day of trial was set, the prisoner urging no delay, and so all was done that could be un- til the man was brought out of the Tombs to face his accusers. The coroner’s jury had not been given posses- sion of the facts of Valentine Gibson’s visit to the club, and so had brought in one of those re- markable verdicts for which such juries are so famous, namely: ‘That the deceased had come to his death through a stab in the neck, with a knife, or some sharp instrument, in the hands of some person, or persons unknown” to that august body. But they all agreed that he was dead, and that the murderer had escaped, while as the pocketbook of the victim bad been taken it was supposed that robbery had been the motivo of the assassin, Upon the little party at the theater, that night of the murder, a shadow had fallen, as also upon the home of Mr. Harlowe, Mr, and Mrs, Stanwood, and Fenton Cross, “a rich young fellow who was desperately in love with Julia Harlowe, had all felt the shock with Mr. Harlowe and his daughter, of the sudden taking from their midst of one who hai been a dear friend, He had appeared so cheerful that night of their last meeting, had gone away with a pleas- ant good-night to all, and a few hours after was the victim of an assassin’s knife, A large number of friends, and those who bad been only sympathizers, had gone to see the | calm, well-remembered face as it lay in its coffin, and Julia Harlowe, leaning upon the arm of her father, had been deeply affected. In her own heart she could not but know that Melton Reeves loved ber, and yet she kept off the avowal of that love t'me and again, for she regarded him too highly asa friend to wish to lose him by telling bim she could never return the affection he gave her. Perhaps, under other circumstances, hoe might bave won ber; butin ber memory was a face she could not forget, and she felt tbat al- poner she had met the man who could win her art. : ‘ That face had never been forgotten since the night, at the risk of his own life, he had saved her from death, and had then risked even greater danger to rescue her father, . That man of the noble, manly face was Cecil Carlysle, And once again she had met him, CHAPTER XV, IN DOUBT, , SEVERAL days after the capture of Valentine Gibson, Julia Harlowe had a caller, The name on the card was simply; ‘‘ Dick Doom,” She asked the servant regarding the person with this very striking cognomen, and was told that he was a young gentleman, very handsome and pleasant mannered. ‘* He asked for me, Cowles?” ‘Yes, miss.” * You are sure it was not my father that he wished to see?” ‘* No, miss; he asked for Miss Harlowe,” ** Say that I will be down soon.” When Julia Harlowe entered the library, she PERSO VE hee beheld a slender, graceful form, dressed in the utmost good taste, standing before a painting, regarding it with the eye of not only a lover of - art but a critic. His bat and cane were in his hands, which were clasped behind his back, and so rapt was he in admiration of the painting, he failed to hear her approach. The work of art was her especial favorite, and for him to select it among all the other fine things about him, was a bond of sympathy at least between them, she thought. She hesitated an instant before she said: ‘*Mr. Doom, I believe?” He started, turne| quickly and bowed low, while with perfect composure, he said: “Tam Dick Doom, Miss Harlowe, and I beg pardon for being so remiss in not hearing your approach,” ** You are pardonable, Mr. Doom, when your admiration for my favorite painting was the cause,” she said, with a smile, “Trisa gem, is it not? so exquisite in work, so perfect in coloring.” ‘* Then you are fond of art, and a connoisseur, I see?” ; ‘*T am so wrapped up in all thatis beautiful in Nature and its copy, art,” and he spoke with considerable warmtb. “ Be seated, Mr, Doom, and this time pardon me for being remiss,” ‘““Thank you, Miss Harlowe, but let me tell fee at once why I, a stranger, have sought you ere in your home,” ‘‘T await your pleasure, sir,” and Julia Har- lowe was beginning to find her strange visitor a very interesting individual. ‘*) will at once dive in medias res, Miss Harlowe and state that to my name on my card should have been added the word, detec- tive. “ Ah! then your visit bas some connection with the sad death of Mr. Reeves?” “Tt bas, for I wish to ask your kind considera- tion of a few questions, if you will be so good, that [ have to make of you, “Of course not for publication, for I bave been greatly annoyed by reporters, the most ir- repressible of men,” ‘Being a detective it is my duty to conceal, not expose, Miss Harlowe,.” True, and I will answer any questions that I _ can,” ‘* You are very kind, and I me first tell you a secret.” — “Me?” ‘Yes, ‘ “7 wish to tell you that I am the one who captured the alleged murderer of Mr, Reeves,” “Indeed? but why do you say the alleged murderer, as though there was doubt about your having the right man?” “JT do not believe that a single soul except myself doubts the guilt of Valentine Gibson.” ** And you dc?” “Yes, and I will tell reason of my call,” ‘*T sball be glad to hear, sir.” ‘* Having tracked the alleged murderer down, gotten about him proofs of bis guilt which it does not appear can be controverted, I have bad a slight suspicion of doubt cast upon my mind that after all Valentive Gibson may not have been the murderer.” you why, for that is the “My father, andall my friends can see no — room for doubt,” “«T will tell you why I doubt, : ‘‘Tbhe prisoner told me that he had followed Mr, Reeves to speak to him again, and having been ill, found some trouble in overtaking him in the storm, ‘*That, when near him he saw & man dart out from bebind a tree and the two men had a short struggle; one fell, the other dasbed by him, the alleged murderer, where he had taken shelter behind a tree, throwing the pocketbook away as he did so, and apparently not seeing him, ** He picked the pocketbook up, and fearful of being found near the map, whom he now be- lieved to be dead, he ran with all speed from the spot.” **Do you believe bim?” “TI neither believe nor disbelieve without proof, Miss Harlowe, but yesterday I overheard two ladies, waiting on the corner for a street car, talking together. / ‘One, J learned from her conversation, lived - in a house near where the murder occurred, “She was suffering, she tole ber friend, with neuralgia, and unable to sleep, stood looking out at the storm. ‘Suddenly she saw a man dash by, a man wearing a cloak, as the gaslight reveal she wondered at bis haste, thank you; but let ed, and oe oer o? Ted . = ba as ee. Pr
Page 9
Sree — ™ rY Sh ged cyt tee Pan *% ee 4 Dick Doom, the De ‘* A moment after anotber man sprung from behind a tree, appeared to fall, and regaining his feet ran on after the other man. \ OF Mle on ath-Grip ‘** Before the gentleman of the cloak?” ‘Yes, sir, be and Mr. Cross and Mr, and Mrs, Stanwood were driven home, Mr, Reeves being EAP ROV IE Six" “She offered no explanation, as she could not | dropped at the Quid Nunc Club.” understand why they ran as they did, * Bat it set me to thinking, and soJ called upon the lady and bad ber show me from her window, the situation of the two men, and she saw them about the time the murder was com- mitted. *“ This raised a doubt in favor of the prisoner, and I sought to find the man wearing the officer's cloak, and after considerable search discovered that a gentleman so robed, joined your party that night at the theater, and Mr. Reeves was seen to go to where he sat in the orchestra and call him away to enter your box.” In sheer amaz:ment Julia Harlowe regarded the man before her. : CHAPTER XVI. A CLEW, ‘* Mr. Doom, you are giving me considerable insight into Secret Service work, and thereis far more in it than I suspected there was,” said Julia Harlowe after a pause, ‘*In what respect, Miss Harlowe?” ** Ag to its possibilities, for I heard my father say that the murderer of Mr..Reeves was bearded in his den and arrested by a young detective alone. ** Now I find that brave young detective who captured the alleged murderer, I use the word alleged advisedly, as you see, I say that I find you, Mr. Doom, seeking to save from the gal- lows the man you brought under its shadow, ‘*T would not wish to see a man hanged for a murder he was innocent of, Miss Harlowe.” ‘* Granted, and I believe you voice your real feelings, though to aid him to escape the gallows must deprive you of a very large reward,” - ‘** A reward which is intact in the bank to-day, Miss Harlowe.” ‘*T can believe you again, sir; but now let me say that I cannot but admire the manner in which you gained a doubt of the guilt of your prisoner, and your following up the clew until you actually discovered that a gentleman wear- ing a cloak, on the night of the murder, joined our party in the box at the theater.” ‘True, cloaks are uncommon, and as a person wearing One was seen near the scene of the mur- der, and a gentleman wearing a cloak came home with you to supper on that same night, and Mr. Melton Reeves was killed just three blocks from here, it is a coincidence which I would like to discover a basis for.” ‘* You reason well, sir, and I suppose would like to know who the cloaked individual was?” “It is just whatI called to ask, Miss Har- lowe, as also where he lives, about the time he left your house, and if there was any quarrel that vight between the gentleman of the cloak and Mr, Reeves?” ‘*T will begin at the last question, sir, ‘There was no cause for quarrel, hence, none between the gentlemen.” “The gentlemen were friends?” ‘They bad never met before that night at the theater.” “Yet, Mr. Reeves invited him into you box?” “ At my request, for I recognized in the gen- tlemah one whom I had only once before seen, ae to whom both my father and I owe our ives, . ‘*It was on a burning steamer, when be came ‘to our rescue, and when asked for his name aS . > slipped a card into my hand and disappeared. ‘In vain did my father search for our preser- ver, hoping in some way to repay the debt of gratitude we owed him; but that night I recog- nized him in an orchestra chair, sent for him to come to our box, and, as he was leaving the city early in the morning, insisted that he should re- turn and have supper with us, which he did.” ** Leaving alune?” “Yes, and on foot, for he declined to be sent home in the carriage, or ratber to bis hotel,” ** May I ask if he is an army officer?” “*T really do not know, sir.” ** He is really almost unknown to you, then?” ‘** Completely, save bis name.” ‘* Will you pardon me for being seemingly ob- trusive?” “* Certainly.” ; “| dislike to Pry into your affairs, Miss Har- lowe, but I heard it stated that you were engaged to Mr, Reeves.” » “Such was not the case, sir,” bd May I ask if Mr. Reeves was of a jealous “*T do not think so, sir,” _ ‘* At what hour did Mr, Reeves leave?” ** Soon after twelve.” _ / : a “| thank you exceedingly for your kindness, Miss Harlowe, and will ask but one question more,” ‘* A dozen if you will,” ‘* Do you know the hotel at which this gentle- man was stopping?” ou describe him, please?” ** A tall man with splendid physique, a darkly bronzed face which was very expressive, in fact I may say a very handsome man, bis eyes being black, his hair dark-brown and his teeth per- fect,” ‘* Now for the all important question?” “ce Yes,” ‘* Will you give me his name?” ‘* Certainly, it is Cecil Carlysle.” Julia Harlowe saw the detective start, and she said quickly: ‘¢You know Mr, Cecil Carlysle, tien?” ** Are you sure that it is Cecil Carlysle?” ‘* Yes, sir, for I have his card.” ‘In bis own handwriting, may I ask?” ‘Yes, written with a pencil the first night I met him, ‘** Here is the card,” She went toa pretty escritoi7e in the room and took out a card from some receptacle, Upon it was written in a bold band a peculiar autograph, the name of Cecil Carlysle, ‘*T do not know Mr, Cecil Carlysle, Miss Har- lowe, but the name was similar to that of a man I do know, and have bitter cause to remember, hence my surprise, “Now let me thank you for all your kind- ness to me, when I had no right to expect any from you, as a stranger, and especially asa detective.” ‘*May I ask if you are a sample of the gentle- men of the Secret Service?” asked Julia, with a smile, ‘‘ Perhaps I Miss Harlowe,’ ‘Then I have never known just what detec- tives were, ‘*T am glad to have met you, Mr. Doom, and I will be pleased to know how your search for proof of Mr. Gibson’s innocence, and your track- ing of the gentleman with the cloak turns out.” “*T shall inform you, Miss Harlowe,” and Dick Doom grasped her outstretched hand, for there was something about this man of mystery that commanded her respect and regard, ' am an unworthy representative, CHAPTER XVII. THE DETECTIVE AT HOME, THE young detective walked slowly away from the grand home of Madison Harlowe, He bent his steps toward Central Park, and selecting a seat sat down to muse and to watch, He was &@ man who was constantly on the watch for everything, anything. ‘‘ Hew that name of Carlysle startled me, and especially with the description she gave of the man, too. “T must find this gentleman of the cloak, be he who he may. ‘* Why has she twice met him and knows noth- ing regarding him? “Tt would seem to me that the man either sought to shun her, or had something to hide, for she is a woman to love, to run after, not to avoid. ‘* What a grandly beautiful creature she is, so gentle at times, then full of fire, and with the sweet ways Of a school-girl allied to the dignity of a queen, ‘“* Yes, Miss Julia Harlowe is no ordinary wo- man, and if this rescuer of hers, this gentleman of the cloak, does not again seek her, then there is some reason why he dare not do so, _ Cecil Carlysle? Well, I must look over my library of Directories and see where I can find the name, and if go, if it fits theman I seek, - | ** Valentine Gibson may not have murdered Melton Reeves, and mony escape the gallows on that charge; but he is due to die at the rope end for crimes that ) know he is guilty of, and be shall never escape me, if he does cheat a New York bangman, ** Well, now for home.” ' With this he ceased bis musings and wended his way. Over in the direction of Third avenue, He came to two large apartment-houses, one on the corner of Third avenue, which was notb- ing more than a tenement-bouse, and the other on the cross street adjoining the rear of the avenue building, He entered one of the three entrances of the Rel er ete hs Detective. —— * See SS as , ah 9 Y ito. tenement-house, touched the fifth bell, and the door was opened by a spring latch, f Entering, he ascended to the fifth floor, anda pass-key admitted him into a flat of six rooms, A pleasant-faced woman was cooking dinner, while a man sat at a table engaged in writing. ‘‘Good-morning, Mrs. Pickett,” said Dick Doom, pleasantly, and he also spoke to the man, and asked: ** Any news, Pickett?” “No, Mr. Doom, nothing of moment,” ** Well, [ will be home for the balance of the day, so if you pick up any information let me know,” ‘* Yes, Mr. Doom,” the man said, politely. Passing into the other room, the rear of which backed up against the side of the apartment- house, he stepped up to a large stove set in the fire-place, pulled one of the nickel ornaments, and out it swung on hinges, revealing a narrow, low entrance into the chimney. This he entered, drawing the stove-door to after him, while a push opened a similar contri- vance on the other side, By this means he entered from humbly-fur- nished tenement quarters into a large, ele- gantly-furnished flat. But he appeared to be the sole occupant of the suxurious quarters, which consisted of a parlor, the walls adorned with rare paintings, bric-a- brac, and handsome furniture and velvet por- tieres, Then there was a library, which had many cases filled with books, a writing-desk, and ap- peared to bs a working-room, A bedroom came next, with marble bath near, and beyond was a dining-room, also elegantly furnished, There was a spare bedroom in the house, a servants’ room, and kitchen; but the detective seemed to be the only dweller in the pleasant quarters, : Throwing off his coat, he put on a velvet dressing-gown and gold-embroidered slippers, and stepping to his library shelves, took down a score of books of various sizes, They were all of a kind, for they were Direc- tories of all the principal cities in the country, In each one he turned to the ‘‘ C’s” and ran his finger down the list of names commencing with that letter, New York was cast aside, Boston followed, then Philadelphia, Chicago, San Francisco, New Orleans, St. Louis, Cincinnati, and an exclama- tion broke from bis lips as he said: ‘* Memphis claims him, for bere is the name: *** Cecil Carlysle, Planter,’ ** J shall have to take a run down to Memphis to see if he is the gentleman of the cloak, and the man whom I also seek who bears the name of Carlysle. ‘‘T will start to-morrow.” He copied on a card what he had found in the Meinphis Directory, for there was an ad- dress given with the name, the city residence and locality of the plantation being subjoined, That this was the home of the mysterious and really unknown detective there was no doubt, He lived there in elegance, his meals, when at home, furnished by Mrs. Pickett, and with a chance of entering his home either by way of the tenement-house on Third avenue, or the fashionable flat upon East —th street. His entire surroundings showed refinement and a cultivated taste, and his library was filled with rare books, bis walls with paintings and sketches... : There was a piano in the parlor, and it was open as though having been recently in use, while a violin lay upon jt with a pumber of the latest songs and instrumental music. There was an easel in the room upon which was an unfinished painting, and in fact every evidence that if the detective lived alone he made the most of bis isolated life, If he had friends to visit him then they surely would not come by way of the Picketts’ rooms, and the closely concealed hole in the wall. , No, that means of egress and ingress was with- out doubt intended for the secret use of Dick Doom alone, CHAPTER XVIII. ‘ A LEAVE OF ABSENCE. Tne chief of police had found Dick Doom as good as his word, for he had reported each day to bim. : ile ine he appeared as a chipper young girl, again as an old man, a third time was imper- sonating 8D old colored woman, and in each instance deceived the guard at the Headquarters as well as the chief, é Upon the morning after the home of Detective — Doom is presented to the reader, or rather that © RY A RN IMAM SC hy ont | > <r — a ra
Page 10
a £5 a " 4, — a ee St alias — De tas 10 he is shown in his double quarters, a card came in to the chief of police which read: ‘ REVEREND CANTELL A. BIGLIE, ** All Souls Mission,” ‘“ What does he want with me?” asked the chief impatiently, for he was often annoyed with visits of ecclesiastical cranks who wished to teach him how torun the Police Department, ‘* He seemed most, anxious to see you, sir, and hinted that he had news for you.” ‘* Show him in!” abruptly said the chief. A moment after the Reverend Cantell A. Big- lie entered, He bad yellow hair, which was worn long and straight, combed down on each side of his face, He wore large spectacles, and his clerical suit was buttoned to the neck, where his white tie was most conspicuous, Under one arm he carried an umbrella, under the other a leather bound book the title of which could not be seen, but from his appearance doubtless a voluine of sermons which he stood ready to preach at a moment’s notice, His coat was worn slick, his pants too tight and too short, but held down by straps; but in spite of his cbronic meluncboly look he had the appearance of a sleek, well-fed Salvation Army captain. ‘¢ Well, sir, you wished to see me?” said the aseaes springs convinced that he had to do with a cravk, “Yes, sir, 1 am the Reverend Cantell A. Big- lie.’ “So your card said, sir, and I have no reason to doubt it.” ‘*T am a searcher for lost souls, and—” ‘*Then we are in the same business, for this is Police Headquarters; but we do not wish a chaplain in this department, and I suppose that is what you came to apply for?” ** No, sir, I came to apply for leave of absence for a few days,” “You shall have it indefinitely, if my in- fluence will do you any good.” ‘* Tt’s what | seek, sir; but I see that you don’t exactly decipher my name, for, divided prop- erly, it reads: ‘““¢Can TELL A BiG Lix,’” ‘See here, Dick Doom, you do notbing but sell me every day you report here,” and the chief laughed, ‘*Té [ can deceive your keen eyes, chief, I feel that I can easily pass muster with others; but I came to ask for leave of absence,” ‘Reverend Can-tell a Big-lie, ha! ba! ha!” laughed the chief, ‘*Tbat is a good one, for pronounced as upon your card, with the accent on the first syllable of Can-tell and of Big-lie, it would deceive any one. «Tell me, did I ever see you as you really are, or were you in og when you presented yourself to me as Dick Doom?” “Some day, chief, I will tell you; but what about the report of your detectives?” ‘* Upon what matter?” “The characters who visit you here, with Dick Doom as a foundation.” ‘*Ab! well, yon elude them every time; but they did get you the other night.” ** How go, sir? ‘© When they got you jailed as an old colored woman, who was creating a disturbance on the street.” ; ‘*Oh, no, sir, that was not me, but another ap altogether. “1 was the lady who drove down to the police court the next morning and paid her fine, taking her out.” ‘*The deuce! now, 1 was sure I had you there; but what about this leave?” ‘“*T desire to run away for a few days, sir, and I'll tell you why, so that you may under- stand my aot reporting.” * Well” “T have begun to think that circumstantial evidence may bang an innocent man, or, thatis, one innocent of the charge against him, at least.” t ‘* Who is that?” ‘* Gibson, sir.” “‘ Ha! do you mean it?” * Yes, sir, and I'll give you my reasons for the slight doubt iu my mind.’ ‘I bave not a scintillla of doubt; but I will hear what you have to say, Doom,” a the story told by Gibson?” es, ‘*In part it bas been corroborated,” and Dick Doom went on to tell just how he bad overheard the conversation between the two ladies, the story of the man with the cloak, what had been er ar a, be Weta |e by : x PRR shi, ERE oleate eT Dick Doom, the Dea fe said by Julia Harlowe, and that he had closely questioned Officer Michael Kane, and that he did recall that, some half a square away, there were tracks in the snow to and from a tree, and these had suggested that the murderer might have had an accomplice awaiting him, and be had so reported it to the chief, ‘* Yes, I remember that Officer Kane did so report; but I supposed that the tracks were made either by the murdered man, or the mur- derer, stepping to one side for some reason,” ‘*There is enough, chief, to give the man the benefit of a doubt.” ‘True, and if not proven to be the murderer your reward is not paid.” “That is of no consideration whatever, sir; but now I am going off on a hunt for the man with a cloak, for when I bave a theory I follow it out for my own satisfaction,” ‘* Well, [ will be glad to give you any papers that may aid you.” “Thank you, sir, I will accept them, for I may need them,” And that night Dick Doom started for the South west, rile ok CHAPTER XIX, THE TRAMP, In the suburbs of the city of Memphis a hand- some residence stood apart from others in the neighborbood, and had about it extensive grounds, with ornamental trees, parterres of flowers and arbors scattered ahout. The residence was not very large, but was a cozy home, and there was considerable gossip regarding the owner, He was a bachelor of wealth, lately moved to the city, and bad his house filled with every lux- ury heart could wish, yet in spite of its attrac- tiveness he passed so little time there that the pope of the town hardly knew him, e kept a handsome pair of driving horses, a saddle horse, and had a couple of old servants, a negro man and his wife, ut it was said that the allurements of a plantation home be owned down the river bad more attraction for him than his town residence, for four-fifths of bis time was spent there, et be could hunt, fish and lead an outdoor ife. The name of the owner of this suburban home was Ceci! Carlysle, for so bad he been put down in the City Directory. Seated upon the piazza of his hone, just at twilight, he was watching the scene upon the river, which was in full view, ani) where several steamboats were visible going up or down the stream, Thus engaged he did not see a man enter the gate, and suddenly bebeld him at the very door- step. P Well, Mr, Carlysle, you look most comfort- able here in your pretty home, most comfortable indeeu, while I am starving, a very tramp.” Cecil Carlysle was a man. of. commanding preseuce, and his fine face flushed as be beard the words of the man who had coolly ascended to the piazza and seated himself upon the top stair. He was in well-worn dress, unkempt beard and hair, and looked not unlike what be claimed to be, a tramp, “Why, sir, do you cross my path again, breaking your every pledge by doing 80?” said Cecil Carlysle sternly. ‘* It’s the same old story, money.” “ You have had every dollar that I will ever give you.” ** Don’t be ao sure of that, Cecil,” “T am sure of it though.” ‘* You will think better of it,” ** What do you mean?” “Why, if 1 don’t get it, then I will make my home in Memphis and disgrace you.” “Do as you deem best, for [ have not the slightest interest in your movements.” ** Don’t say that.” ‘* But I do, and you can act to suit yourself,” ‘** See here, Ceci] Carlysle, I bappen to know tat about you, as you know, which will cause you to fly from the public eye, for your sensitive nature can never stand shame, and I am here for money. ‘“‘T want twenty thousand dollars, and that to you is nothing, for well I know how rich you ere, “Give me that sum, and [ pledge you my honor—” ‘** Your bonor!” “*Oh, you can sneer if you wish, but I am not in a sarcastic humor, but in deadly earnest, and I mean all Ivsay, that I will have that money, and receiving it, will swear to you never to cross your path again,” rene th-Grip Detective. | ** T have recorded just seven of those oaths of yours, and am out of pocket all of fifty thousand dollars by accepting your word. “T will not do so again, and I do not care | what steps you take, I will not yield.” “ Beware a “*T am not to be intimidated, so do your worst.” ‘You refuse to give me the money?” I | do, ” ‘* Have you run through wich your fortune?” ‘*T am not of your stripe.” : ‘* Have you got the money?” Cecil Carlysle lost his patience, and said with anger: **-Yes, I have got more than the sum you ask now in this house, and not one dollar of it goes to you. * Now, sir, go and do your worst.” The man suddenly reeled, as though about to fall, as he arose from the steps, and Cecil Car- lysle asked quickly: ** Are you ill?” : *“Yes, I am subject to these attacks—a glass of liquor will revive me,” was the reply. Cecil Carlysle quickly entered the house, the man almost staggering after him, and dropping down upon a lounge in the library. ‘*Let me rest here only a minute, for it will SOON pass away. ** Liquor, please.” Cecil Carlysle placed him comfortably upon the Jounge, passed on into the dining-room, and pouring outa glass of brandy from a decanter,, handed it to bis tramp visitor. The man gulped it down eagerly, and said in, the same faint tone: ‘Thank you; that will soon pull me around, and then I will go. ‘* This house is too fine for me, for I am but a r vagabond, “Yes, I'll go now; bot mark my words, you will rue your refusal to aid me.” “One minute,” and Cecil Carlysle walked over to bis private desk, wheeled it around from the wall and taking a key from bis pocket open- ed a small iron door thus revealed, Frgm this he took a ro}l of bills, counted out several, and returning to the tramp said: ‘* Here, ycu are ill, and I will not send you. away with no money. ‘*There are one thousand dollars here, and this is all you need ever expect from me, ‘¢ Take it, for, if you desire to begin life anew, there is enough to make a start on. ‘‘ Now I will send you to the tavern in my carriage.” ‘Ob, no, Tam able to walk, for I feel better now-—good-by,” and the man arose from the lounge and walked slowly out into the gathering darkness, CHAPTER XX. CECIL CARLYSLE’S GUEST, "Ur and down the piazza of bis home paced Cecil Carlysle, lost in deep and painful thought | it would seem, for ag be paced back and forth before the hall door, out of which streamed a light, bis face wore a clouded and stern look, At last a negro appeared in the doorway to announce supper, one of those respectful negro gentlemen of the olden time, so frequently seen in the best Southern families years ago, but now owing so scarce, ‘Supper is ready, Massa Carlysle,” said the old negro, “ All right, Uncle Toby, 1 will come in as soon as I see whether that carriage is going to drive in or pass by,” for the sound of wheels fel} upon his ears, A moment after a carriage wheeled into the gateway and drew up at the door, From the carriage stepped a young man who called out: ‘* Ho, Cecil, I know tbat form well,” ‘““ Burton Ellis, old friend, how glad I am to see you,” and the hands of the two friends were warmly clasped in greeting, “What lucky breeze bas blown you here, Burton?” ‘* Well, it is a lucky one, as I get a chanve to visit you, but Iam on my way South, Cecil, fcr r pa as the doctors say I must go to orida, “To break the journey, for Iam not as strong as I wasin our old comrade days, I decided to stop and spend a day with you.” ‘* A day, well call ita month and Ill welcome _ vou; but here you shall remain, for I am keep- ing bachelor’s hall and have all that you could wish to make you contented.” The carriage was dismissed, and the two friends went in to supper together, old Toby
Page 11
parade wv fs a cs or Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective. having set another plate and made two toddies without instruction, ‘You know your business, old gentleman,” said Burton Ellis as he took the toddy, While they were at supper a telegram ar- rived for Cecil Carlysle. He read aloud as follows; ‘Mr. Jackson, the overseer, was killed to-day by Black Tom, and you are needed at once upon the plantation. ‘HANNIBAL BURKE,”’ “This is bad, for my overseer was a good man, and the one who is spoken of as Black Tom is one of the worst negroes on the place,” **You will go at once, for you must not let me detain you, Cecil.” ** Yes, I will install you as master here to re- main until I return. ** Lay abed all day and rest if you wish, go driving, or riding as you please, for I have some fine animals here, and my library is full of books. ** Will you stay?” ‘¢ Yes, with pleasure, for the weather is mild here, I find, and I have nothing to fear.” “Good! and to-night you are to occupy my room, for there bas been no fire in the guest’s room for several weeks, as I am not over- burdened with company, in fact know next to no one in town, **T can catch the steamer at ten, and will land at my place early in the morning, so you see I lose no time.” **T hope you will not find matters so bad as is telegraphed, Cecil.” ** Well, Hannibal Burke is a very trustworthy negro, and has doubtless given me the facts as they are, ‘*Now, Uncle Toby, if you will pack my grip and telephone in fora hack to come after me, Tl! thank you.” Both these commissions Uncle Toby filled promptly and in the grip he had the foresight to place a box of Perfectos and a bottle of fine old whisky, with a silver cup and corkscrew, for he knew his master’s needs perfectly. When the hack arrived farewells were said, and saying that he boped to return within a very few days, Cecil Carlysle sprung in and rolled away in the darkness, no more dreaming of what lay ahead of him than did his old friend Burton Ellis see into the future the fate that he was to meet. Cecil Carlysle reached the boat as the second bell was ringing, engaged his state-room, and as he met a reporter of the Appeal whom he bad met before, mentioned to him incidentally the telegram he had received of a tragedy on his plantation. The reporter thanked him for a bit of news of importance, and ran up to his office to make a column out of the few lines he had received, while Cecil Carlysle sat upon the upper deck smoking and enjoying the scene by night as me huge steamer went on ber way down the ver, : Had he been inclined to feeling homesick, after the departure of his triend, Burton Ellis would not have been allowed to indulge the feeling by Uncle Toby. A large log fire was soon blazing upon the large hearth in Cecil Carlysle’s room, a hot Scotch was waiting on the table, and Uncle Toby brought his wife, old Dinah, in to see their master’s guest and tell him what was good to stop his cough, and what kind of a pouitice to put upon bis chest, — For some time did Burton Ellis enjoy a chat with the sable couple, and then bade them good- _ night, saying that he would bave breakfast at ten o'clock on the following morning, Then they left him, the bouse was closed up and the couple retired to their own quarters, an out-house in the rear, but to which a bell extend- ed from the master’s room. It was with a feeling of perfect repose that the tired man threw himself down to rest, and watched the firelight sketch shadows that danced about the walls, At last he sunk to sleep, to awake some time after with a start. The fire had burned low, but there, bend- ing over bis bed, Burton Ellis beheld the fora of a man, a knife clasped in his uplifted hand, CHAPTER XXI, A MASKED ASSASSIN, Towarp midnight of the evening on which Cecil Carlysle left bis home, a mar eet have been seen skulking along the river-bank as though to avoid being seen. He did not follow the streets, but kept out of ee sight as much as pcessible until he came to the house of Cecil Carlysle, He saw no one in sight, ran across the strect and entered the grounds, at once seeking refuge in a small rustic summer-house, Remaining here for some little while he made @ detour of the mansion, A light burned in one wing, and all the rest was dark, Without was a small cottage near the man- sion, And here a dim light was visible in one of the two rooms over a transom of the door. This was the quarters of Toby and Dinah. The man went completely around the house, then softly ascended the front steps to the piazza, He walked with such noiseless step that he evidently had on moccasins or felt slippers, Reaching the door he felt for the key-hole, inserted into it without any noise one of a bunch - skeleton keysand the first one unlocked the atch, Not a creak was heard as the door swung open admitting him. Closing ‘the door behind him he stood looking about bim. A light burned in the library, but was turned down low, and beyond was the dining-room, which was only lighted from the library. Into the library he went, then into the large dining-room, and at the end was the wing in which there was a large room, bath and dress- ing-room, the quarters of the master of the house, In that room slept Burton Ellis, the guest of Cecil Carlysle, The door stood ajar, admitting only a dim ligbt from the library and through the dining- room, for the fire flickered low upon the hearth, For some moments the midnight invader stood calmly surveying the situation. Toen be walked back into the library and slightly turned up the lamp. It revealed a man dressed in a corduroy suit, with a pair of boots hung to a belt about his waist, and wearing felt slippers. There was a dark lantern hanging to his belt on one side, a bunch of skeleton keys and a re- volver and knife upon the other, ready for use, The knife had a long, ugly-looking, narrow blade. The man wore a slouch hat, and his face was completely concealed by a mask, the eye-holes of which were large, giving him plenty of op- portunity for an unobstructed sight. Going to the desk, which stood in an alcove of the room between two windows, he ak it around on a pivot, just as Cecil Carlysle had done a few hours before, and tbe iron door in the wall was revealed, which opened into the safe in the solid brick walJl of the alcove. The man then took his bunch of keys in band, and inserted one in the lock, It did not answer, ; Anotber was tried without avail, a third and a fourth. Then he took the bnnch from his belt and be- gan to try one after the other, when, in stooping, his revolver slipped from his belt and fell with a bang upon a cuspidor, breaking it to pieces, Instantly he wheeled, darting into the dark dining-room, and sprung behind a portiere lead- ing into the bedroom beyond. f He would be ready for the occupant if aroused, for he knew that Cecil Carlysle was 4 dangerous man if aroused to action, Hardly bad he gained his position, when he heard the sleeper spring from his bed, and a mo- ment after, in the dim light, a white-robed form passed the portiere on the way to the library. Awakened from a sound sleep by the crash, Burton Ellis arose and looked about him, For an instant he did not recall bis surround- ings, but then all came to him like a flasb, and he knew that bis host was away, that he alone was in the house, He would investigate that noise, and so he threw on his dressing-robe and moved toward the library. There was a sudden movement of the portiere, a form ind him, an uplifted arm, then it came down with a heavy thud, and the knife of the assassin, but too surely aimed, had entered the heart of bis victim, The assassin was as cool as an icicle, for he caught his victim and let him quietly down upon the floor, to avoid a heavy fall. “Great God! it is not Cecil Carlysle!” came in a suppressed tone of horror from beneath the ask, For an instant the man seemed paralyzed with amazement and dread, But he rallied quickly, and muttered: ‘* But he must be in the house. ™ : . ° + % AS oF. : r ~. f e? “ " : af ts ’ 4 r ee Md aa a ae 1 woe fete z Ly a ee, ei fe aa ad + y ont Neck Hebi salina Be et OY ial, 1 Se tas a aie 2 Sia. ¥s x A 3)) e Te e Ae eaten : aiaediil Cas, " ae a rl . pe . = — WK Wil il ‘**] will complete the work I have begun.” He walked about the mansion, now using his dark-lantern, and invaded the other rooms, A fire burned upon the hearth of one of the guests’ chambers, but no one was there, ‘* Who is the man I have killed: and where is Cecil Carlysie? ‘* Well, [ have no time to lose, so will get that. money and go, ‘** T must not be found here,” He returned to the library again, tried his keys, and one fitted the lock, There was a tin box full of money before him, and this he seized, anda moment after had left the mansion and was hastening down the river road toward the landing. CHAPTER XXII. THE MISSISSIPPI FLATBOAT, Away from the steamboat landing, and apart to itself, just below the city of Memphis, a flat- boat was moored against the bank. Few such boats are seen upon the river now, in comparison with the olden times, when they were the grain, lumber and freight-carriers of the river, and the bosom of tbe Father of Wa- ters was dotted with them from St, Louis to New Orleans. This one was newly-built, loaded with a cargo for tbe lower river markets, and had a cabin fore and aft, In the latter a light was visible, and within were men seated at a table playing cards, The cabin was roomy, there were half a dozen. bunks in it, a table, swinging lamp and some chairs, The men were brawny, bearded fellows, with a look that would cause an honest man to steer clear of their companionship. They spoke in low tones, gambled like men who played to win, and talked together as they did so, ‘‘See here, mates, its arter twelve, and ther cap’n hain’t come, so s’pose we tarns in,” said one. ‘* No, he said the chances were ten ter one we went ter-night, and ter have ther old craft held jist by one line, so as ter git away in a second 0” time, ‘¢ He are a-workin’ some leetle rackit, and we better be up and ready, for he may come on the pat of ‘* Waal, I says wait too, “He owns ther flat, pays us big money for ther run, and sarves us well, and I don’t want no better cap’n.” ‘¢ No, me nuther,” *¢ Hark! he’s comin’ aboard now,” The next moment a man entered the cabin, He wore corduroys, his face bad a beard of some weeks’ growth, his manner was slouchy, and with the exception of the mask, be was the counterpart of the man who had entered the home of Cecil Carlysle a short while before and left behind him the dead form of Burton Ellis and a rifled safe, ‘¢ Well, lads, cut ber loose, and make no fuss about it. ‘‘Keep her inshore until we get out of sight of the town and then give her full swing in the enrrent, ‘Use your sweeps all you can, for Memphis is not a healtby place fur us just now. ‘* Let her go!” So said the new-comer, and in an instant the cards were put away, the winners'pocketed their winnings, the losers pocketed their losses, and in a couple of minutes the lires were cast-off and the flatboat drifted away witb the current, The sweeps were used too as noiselessly as ssible, and witbin an hour’s time the flat-— ions nae dropped the lights of Memphis out of sig But still it held on its way through the night, two of the men going on duty, while the other two slept, the ‘‘captain” pacing up down the deck lost in his own thoughts, Two lights burned upon the flatboat, one forward, one aft, to mark her position to pass- ing steamboats, apd one of these passed her as. she got a dozen miles away from the city, caus- ing her to rock gently upon the waves. As it moved down the captain went into the cabin and turned in, leaving the Jamps still burning, and at sunrise the men on deck called up the relief and set to work to get breakfast or all, The captain was called when all was ready, and ate beartily, though he bad little to say, Toward evening he ordered the boat rungin- shore and tied up for the night, just where there was a small creek, But at dawn the next day, she was cast loose,, and again began her downward voyage, ee
Page 12
= _ — i ear Nese gion, bose “? a es —————e It was late in the afternoon when one of the men said: ‘* Cap’n, yonder looks like a mighty fine plan- tation, and I guessif we made a call thar we ¢<’u/d git chickens, eggs, butter and sich, which we did’nt lay in at Memphis, **Thar’s a creek yonder, which we might run inter.” “ All right, make for the creek, and I'll take a tramp ashore with my shotgun, while two of you go to the plantation and get supplies, ‘* Don’t be stingy either, for here is plenty of eaney a and he handed over a twenty dollar- bill, ** Lordy, cap’n, you is flush. * Yer must hev struck ’ile in Memphis,” ‘*T did,” was the laconic response, The sweeps urged the flat over toward the creek, a couple of miles above u fine plantation Sy all appeared to be prosperity and com- ort. Tbe mansion was of brick, large and sur- rounded with a piazza, while a cupola was on a tower at one wing. Ornamental grounds, gardens, numerous large outbuildings, and a row of quarters in the back- ground gave the place a very cheerful and well- to-do air, Into the creek the flatboat was urged, just out of view of any steamer passing on the river, and just where there was a walled-in spring, and rustic summer-house commanding a view of the Mississippi. / ‘This is a snug place to tie up all night,” said ‘the captain. “ve got an hour before sunset, so will take my gun _ for a stroll, for there is game in these woods, I am sure, ‘Lads, that is my idea of a bome and com- fort, and I'll bet those who live there are rich and bappy.” “Don’t know, cap’n, for I has seen finer ‘houses than that have mighty grim skeletons in their closets,” said one of the men who answered to the name of Parson Pete, for his comrades asserted that he was always preaching. ‘“Youder comes a horseman through the tim- ber no”, ‘* Maybe he seen us beading in, and is a-coming to tell us ter move on, for ’tuin’t all flatboat men is honest, like us, and whar some ties up for a night, sich things as pigs, calves, turkeys and chicks is missing next morning,” The captain cast a glance at the coming horseman, and said quickly: “Lads, J know that man, “Bag bim and he will bea fortune in your pockets, ‘* He must not see me—now. _ ‘But capture bim, and don’t fail!” anu nand- iog his gun to one of the men, the captain hast- oo. back on the flat, and disappeared in the cabin, oe CHAPTER XXIII, THE KIDNAPPERS. THE horseman seen approaching the creek Janding, where the flatbout bad been tied up near the spring and rustic arbor, rode with the air of a man reared in the saddle, He was dressed in a riding suit, top-boots, spurs and a slouch hat. He came leisurely on, having turned from the —— half a mile away to come to the spring. That he saw the flatboat and men there was no doubt, but,he came on at the same easy pace and as be drew rein at.the spring, called cut pleasantly : “Good afternoon, gentlemen, : ‘‘ Are you going to tie up bere to-night?” “Yas, sir, we is, onless you objects,” said Par- son Pete, __ “Ob, no, for you have good water here, and if you come over to the house I will give you anything you may need in the way of provi- sions, for I have plenty and to spare,” “That’s spoke like a gentleman sir; but jist now we wants bigger game,” and Parson Pete dropped the muzzle of the gun be held so as to cover the heart of the planter. ** Don’t move, my gent, or it means you dies!” The planter had dismounted and the rein of | his bri ner. That be was taken by surprise there was le had been thrown over a bitching-post no doubt; but a glance into the faces of the |. four men, who had now surrounded him, show- ed that they were desperate fellows and not to be trifle.1 with, “Well, if you mean it, I am fairly caught, for IT am unarmed and looked not for harm from those whom I sought to befriend, eS ves *W te Re i “T guess I will learn in time that it is the way of the world,” ‘‘T has learned that same, gent, and experi- ence are the best schoolmarm I ever know’d. ‘*But you is wanted, and yer will be wise ter come aboard ther flat and make no rackit.” ** Well, and what is your game?” **Ter win,” _ ‘* You want ransom for me?” *“*T guesses so; but we wants yer, so jist march aboard that gang-plank!” “Tf I refuse?” ‘* Thar is enough o’ us here ter tote yer.” ‘“*T have half a mind to try my stred&th with the four of you,” *“Don’t do it, for bullets is leetle things but they brings down big game, and a leetle money is better ter part with than your life,” ** You reason well. ** How much do you wish?” 4 ““T hain’t ther making out o’ ther bill; but cum aboard and don’t tarry no longer.” “Allright, I yield to the inevitable always,” and the kidpapped man walked briskly aboard the flatboat, was led to the forward cabin, bound securely and left there alone, Ft the captain came out from his hiding and said: ‘‘Lead that horse into the creek, lads, as though bis rider started to swim across and was drowned, ** A tap on the head back of the ear with a bit of iron will stun him, and the water will do the balance; but he must drift among the willows there so as not to be swept away. ‘*This will give an idea that the rider was drowned.” ‘You understands your biz, cap’n, that is sart’in.” ‘Yes, Pete, and I play to win. * But, come, men; Ict us get to work afd move out of this,” The men obeyed, the horse was led into the creek near the flatboat,a blow upon the head dropped him as though shot, and his body was pulled around to the willows and the rein caught as if by accident, his body being swung around 80 as to attract the attention of any one visiting the spring. Then the flatboat cast off and went floating on down the river. By sunset it had dropped the plantation out of sight, but the captain ordered the lights lit and said; ‘¢ We'll push on to-night, for l’ve got an idea, men, that I'll leave you within twenty-four bours.” The captain and the four men were eating sup- per now, It was just sunset and the flat was drifting at will with the stream, ‘** Leave us, cap’n?” said all in a breath. ‘* Well. it is just this way, men. “The prisoner you bave in the forward cabin is an old foe of mine, and with bim out of the way, I'll get some fifteen or twenty thousand dollars he is keeping me out of. “The truth is, men, I bought this boat in St. Louis and put the cargo on board just to carry out a certain purpose, C That was to get bold of the man in yonder cabin, ‘* He lives in Memphis, and I went to his home and found he was on his plantation, for I had a talk with a hackman that drove me up town and he said he had taken the one I sought to the steamer a couple of hours before he picked me up. ; Ms He told me where the plantation was, so I came here after going to bis house and raising Cain which made me anxious to get away, | ‘* Now, my idea was to pass the plantation, tie up and go to the house at night; but the man walked right into our bands, or ratber rode into our trap. “This boat is worth a thousand dollars, the outfit a couple of hundred more, and the cargo cost just two thousand dollars, and will bring double that in New Orleans, so we'll call the out- fit five thousand, ‘*In case it should fall short, I bave a couple of hundred in cash for each of you, and T’)] give you a clean bill of sale for the whole outfit, but upon certain conditions.” a A s «Yas, cap’n, conditions rules all trades,” said Parson Pete. ‘* What do you say, men?” “* What is we to do, cap’n?” “ Well, just this, and I guess my words won't shock any of you.” : He paused to see the effect of his words. © ‘* We hain’t easily shocked, cap’n,” ‘* Well, you are to put that man out of the way to-morrow night,” ys ' ‘Who's to do it?” ‘‘Draw lots for the man who is to do the work, ard the one it falls upon I will pay three hundred dollars more to, in gash.” ** Done! if the outfit is ours, too.” ‘Tt is, the flat, cargo and all.” ‘*Tt’s a bargain,” said Parson Pete and his ex- pressed sentiment was unanimous, CHAPTER XXIV. PARSON PETE'S LOT. Ir having been agreed upon by the four flat- boatmen, that they would do their captain’s red - work, they suggested that it should be done &t once, But for some reason the captain said he would wait until the next night. ‘Tt will keep until then, and I wish to see it well done, for I rely upon no man’s word. ‘You get my money, and I wish to see the work well done, ‘¢To-morrow night, after midnight, by keep- ing steadily on, we will pass Greenville, Missis- sippi, and you can land me tbere, while you keep afloat and get on your way as fast as possible, ‘*T can go to the hote: in Greenville and catch a boat up or down-stream as I may wish, going my way alone. “You can go on to the citytof New Orleans, sell your cargo and boat, and you will be worth fifteen hundred apiece, as you know, and that is big money, ‘** That is my plan, men.” **'You is the cap’n, so what you says goes; but we don’t want to starve ther poor devil, so Pll jist take him bis meals reg’lar until he has ter slip out,” said Parson Pete, So he arose and took the prisoner a good sup- p2r, and sat watching him while he ate it, ‘Well, what have you decided, my man, re- garding me?” asked the prisoner. ** We'll Jet you know to-morrow night, cap’n.” ** All right, only make me a little more com- fortable bere and I[ will not complain, ‘* A blanket and a pillow, with a chair will do, with the trap left open for air, ean isa twenty-dollar bill for your trou- ble. ‘*T thank you, cap’n,” and Parson Pete slivnped in to the prisoner the things be asked for. So the night and day passed away, ana the following night settled down upon the river. The flatboat still beld on, and after supper the — men assembled to draw lots to see who should do the deadly work, — . The captain held the lots and each man putin his hand aud drew, They were four quarters, allof different dates, and the man who got the one bearing the stamp of ‘* 1845” was to kill the prisoner. “Just my luck,” gritted Parson Pete,as he ~ got the quarter having the fatal date, ‘* Yer gits ther extra three hundrea, Pete,” said one man, disappointed that the lot had not | fallen to him, as ‘¢ Waal, I s'pose I has got ter go about it, but. I gives bim his .upper first, for if thar is any- thing that kin make a man feel bad is ter die on ~ a empty stomach.” So Parson Pete got up an extra supper for the doomed mean, and took it to him, As he was starting the captain said: ‘See here, Pete, do your work well, bring the body aft, and toss it into the river over the stern of the boat.” ip ‘11 do it prime, cap’n,” was Pete’s answer, and he went to the forward cabin. ‘Here I is, boss, with yer supper.” “You are really very kind to me, and I can- not complain of your treatment, my man.” ta ‘‘ Waal, eat a good supper, for then T has something to tell you.” : : The prisoner obeyed and did eat a good sup- PON ow?” Pete waited a minute and said: ‘How much would you be willing to pay for — your ransom, boss?” os ‘Give me an idea of your own figure?) “ Would you say tentbousand in cash?” _ “That is a large sum, and besides you took me from my plantation and I had not with me over a couple bundred dollars,” “Suppose 1 said 1 would take your word for 7 i the pay?” ' 4 ‘That is generous, and if I promised you I would not break my word,” Ng ‘*T can believe that, for I has seen that you — is a man from toe-nail ter top-knot.” ¢ ‘Thanks for your good opinion,” ah ‘* Now, boss, I has orders to kill you,” Bos ttt ‘To kill me?” coolly asked the prisoner, $ f t rely, CaN %,-» D ‘ - * © i # te <i ore “is 5 Te
Page 13
‘‘T has, and I bas draw’d ther lot as ther man ter do ther work.” ‘* What does this mean?” “Tt’s meaning is ter git you out o’ ther way, why and wherefore, t’other and whitch I knows Sey, nothing about and cares less, ies “But I bas agreed ter kill yer, tote yer aft j and toss yer overboard, with handsand feet tied. a ‘Now I hain’t no murderer, if I is a bad man, t and my idee is ter jist let yer play ’possum, play dead, and ter tie yer hands and feet so yer kin slip em in a second, ‘Kin yer swim?’ q ** Like a fish.” Me “Good! now I'll jist play thet game on yer ‘ and let yer go. *“7]} watch until ther flat sweeps near in- shore, and then toss yer over; but ther cap’n wants ther things yer bas on yer, so yer must give them up; yer kin swim ashore from whar yer goes over and if ever I comes your way and makes myself known, then yer kin give me a lift in casb.” ‘*See here, my man, Iam not afraid to die, though of course I cling to life, and would escape such a death as you propose; but if you will do as you say, Ill give you my word of honor if you will come to me at any time ia the future, I will give you five thousand dollars, and try and oa you on a better road than the one )02 fol- ow, ** Here are the valuables and a let‘er bearing my name and address in Memphis. I also spend much time on the plantation where you kid- napped me, Don’t lose the address on the en- velope or forget the name. Now I am at your service,” Parson Pete at once set to work to bind the prisoner’s hands and feet to suit himself, so that they could be at once freed. Then be said: _ **Give one long, loud cry!” The prisoner did so, and the mea grouped aft started and shuddered at the coming tragedy, Then Pete raised the form in his arms, stag- gered aft with it, and with an effort tossed it over the stern into the dark waters of tke river. bh The flatboat swept on, while Parson Pete sat | __ down and buried bis face ia his hands, “JT wanted to see that body, Pete, before you threw it overboard,” said the captain sternly. : “T didn’t know that, cap’p, or I’d have laid it on ther deck, though I wanted ter git rid of it soon as I c’u’d.” “ Did you do the work thoroughly?” Bs Thar’s the knife, and ther hilt is red, as yer The captain took the knife and coolly exam- ined it by the light of the lamp. “Yes, it went to tbe hilt; but he isa strong man and might stand a bad wound.” **Wasn’t bis hands and feet tied, so he’d drown, if there was any life in him?” demanded Pete, reprovingly, __ The captain glanced back over the wake of the flatboat. . All was quiet there, save tl:e murmuring of the _ waters eddying along, _ “Well, that is settled, It is just nine o'clock, But, did you bring me his ring, watch, chain, sleeve-buttons and pocketbook, with any papers you might find on him, as I told you to do?” -. _ ¥as, cap’n, here they is,” and he drew from i a ee some letters, a pocketbook, watch and : cha in, studs and sleeve-buttons and papers. ood! Now I'll turn in; but, wake me when _ you see the lights of Greenville,” And, four hours after, a8 the flat swept close to the wharfboat at Greenville, the captain stepped off and silently waved bis band to the _-__— men he had left, for they did not even touch at the town as they went by. Bees ¢ CHAPTER XXV. * See THE DISCOVERY. Tre night of the murder of Burton Ellis _ passed away with old Toby and his wife all un- _ conscious of the scene that had been enacted in - the mansion of Cecil Carlysle, i ‘here, with a button within reach of his arm, _ where he lay in bed, Burton Ellis had met his 1 eal . eae Old Toby came in softly, as was his wont, Vs ~ upon the library fire, and cleaned up the hearth. Then he went to the library and put that in order, pouting coal upon the grate fire, Having dusted out the rooms, set the table, and gotten all ready for breakfast, he went to- ; the door of his master’s room, to make 4 Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Old Toby mustered up courage to raise him, thinking that he had fallen ill, But he started back as he felt the icy form, and ran out to give the alarm to his wife, It was some time before the two old negroes could get nerve enough to telephone to the police court to send some officers up tu the Carlysle home, In half an hour they came, and old Toby tuld his story, vf his master’s going, the arrival of the guest, and all that had followed. There was nothing disturbed tbat the ¢ fficers could discover, but there lay the dead form of Burton Ellis, with a knife-wound in his back, Toby told how tae guest bad been told to take his master’s room for that night, as be was an invalid, and the guest-chamber had been with- out a fire in it for some time, ‘““That means that the man was an assassin, and sougbt to murder Mr, Carlysle, for evi- dently robbery was not the cause. ‘“What foes had your master, old man?” asked the chief of police, who had been called to the scene, ‘He was that good a man, sir, that he had not an enemy in the world,” was the answer, Then suspicions became as thick as flies, and at last it was hinted that perbaps the stranger had money. 4 Toby had been tempted, and so was the mur- erer, But the lie was given to this by the fact that the clothes of the stranger seemed not to have been disturbed, and his watch and jewelry, with his pocketbook, containing considerable money, were under his pillow. But botn Toby and Dinah were put under ar- rest, and a telegram was sent to Cecil Carlysle at his plantation. In the evening word came that the branch wire, running to a village some miles from the Carlysie plantation was down, and no word could be sent through. So thechief of police wrote a letter, and it did nct leave until the next night, for there was only a tri-weekly mail, Days passed away, and at last came the fol- lowing dispatch from the plantation! ‘‘Was captured by river flatboatmen and held for ransom. : f “Letter just received. Will start by first steamer for Memphis. CrcIL CARLYSLE,”’ The unanswered dispatches and letters had begun to make people talk, and suspicion even Py n Cecil Carlysie for the murder of his rien But the captain of the steamer on which Cecil Carlysle ky oh to his ppg ie ets the lie to that rumor by saying that he had landed him at his home the next morning, \ The hackm:n, Toby and Dinah had said that Mr, Ellis bad gone out upon the piazza to bid Cecil Carlysle good-by, and so there was not a peg left to fasten guilt upon the host, because the real murderer could not be found. But the telegram at last received relieved all anxiety, and told that Cecil Carlysle was coming home, and just as Officers of the law were to be dispatched to his plantation to know the cause of his silence. The coming of the young planter was looked forward to with the deepest interest by all, and the papers contained numbers of articles regard- ing him, more or less true, ‘One of them read as follows: “The studied silence of Mr, Cecil Carlysle has been at last explained by a telegram from him. * This states that he had been kidnapped by river flatboatmen an4 held for ransom. “This was all,except that he stated he would take the first steamer up to Memphis. ‘* His coming will be looked forward to with more than interest, for there is just now the greatest in- terest hanging Over the life of Mr. Carlsyle. “Tr seems that heleft his guest, the night of his arrival, called by a dispatch to his plantation, signed. the Carlysle servants say, by a negro, Hannibal Burke. “This telegram read that Black Tom, a negro, had killed the overseer, “Mr. Carlysle went at once, left a guest im his house, and that guest was murdered a couple of hours after his host’s departure. “Then follow unanswered telegrams. and letters and at last an answer stating that Mr. Carlysle has been kidnapped. ““We will be glad when he arrives to explain, if he can, all these mysterious happenings. “ Mr. Carlysle is a stranger in our midst, a gentle- man in appearance and a man of wealth “He has studiously avoided all scciety, and we have, from a squib in an exchange that one, Cecil aryale, om peceed. to be the one in our midst, was larg’ an nt his income in travel- ing about the world. ae, c e “He served in the Egyptian Army with distinc- ' tion, had a staff appointment in the french Army, Detective. . 13 during the Franco-Prussian War, was decorated and also served with the Suitan’s troops against. Russia, *Viring of being a soldier of fortune he returned to the United States and for reasons, best know to himself, s.lected Memphis as one of his abiding- places ‘*It remains to be seen whether we are honored by our comparatively unknown citizen. “Let us bope that he may put away the cloud that in our opinion hangs over him.” Such was the article in the columns of the Weekly Scandalmonger, and it was read with great eagerness and interest. Two days after it was issued, a steamer was seep coming up the river that was known to touch at the plantation landings, and it would surely be the one which Mr. Carlysle would catch, according to his telegram, When it ran alongside the wharf-boat, Cecil Carlysle’s tall form was seen, the chief of police stepped on board, and a moment after the two were driving rapidly toward the planter’s Mem- phis home. CHAPTER XXVI. THE CLOUDS ROLL BY, ‘¢ Mr, CARLYSLE, 1 have never had the pleas- ure of meeting you, but I sympathize with you in all the trouble that has come upon you,” said the chief of police, as the two were driving to the Carlysle home, “Thank you, sir; it is, indeed, a wave of trouble. ‘*T have seen all the papers, and gleaned the: facts and falsehoods from them, so that I am fairly well posted. ‘¢ May I ask what bas been done with the body of my unfortunate friend, Ellis?” ‘+ An inquest was held, sir, and the surgeon’s: autopsy given, after which we gave the bod over to bis brother, who came and took it to his. home for burial, ‘*T found his address among his papers, so I wired there at once.” “That was right, and I have much to thank you for, ‘* Poor Burton was a very dear friend of mine, for we were together in Heidelburg for several years, and have always kept up a correspond- ence, ** Can you find no clew to the murderer?” ‘* None, sir, though everything has been done that we could think of.” ‘*Put in the papers for to-morrow the offer from me, please, of a reward of five thousand: dollars.” ‘¢ This is generous, sir.”. ‘*T only hope it may bring good results, ‘4T feel sure that I was the one who was to have been killed, the man the assassin sought to strike, for I believe no robbery was committed?” ‘‘Not that I can discover, sity with the aid of old Toby and Dinah.” ““T was sorry to hear those good people were. put under arrest.” ’ ‘7 deemed it best, sir.” ‘* How did the assassin enter the house?” ‘* By pass-keys evidently, for the doors were: locked, and the windows closed.” ‘*We will look thoroughly into the matter now that lam here,” said Cecil Carlysle, and just then the carriage halted before the door, A policeman was on duty in the grounds, and another in the mansion, _ 1t was just dark and the hall lamp had been lighted by the officer, “J wish, chief, you would have the kindness to release my two old servants, even if you have to keep a guard on them bere. ‘I will go their bail, also, for they are no more guilty than I am,” “So I believe, sir, and I think it can be ar- ravged to-morrow as you wish,” They went into the house together and Cecil Carlysle lighted the library lamp and then stood gazing about bim. Then he said: Z Sy will at once see if there has been any rob- berg’ @ took a key from his pocket, turned the desk aside on its pivot, and unlocked the iron door in the alcove. “My God! I have been robbed of my money- box, and it contained thirty thousand dollars, ‘“Now I know that robbery was intended; poor Ellis heard the robber and came to hi: death in protecting my home. ‘‘This is awful!” and Cecil Carlysle seer desply moved now for the first time, - ” bo knew of tbe existence of that safe’ asked the chief. false * No one save the man who made th, ana. wall in the alcove and put the safe t’~ ¢
Page 14
hare 6 ree ee ae a oe , Pr * —— y i = q WA Der pes iecn = eae: ~ ee Pe E-sarae = in Dick Doom, the Death- _ — Grip Detective. ‘i he is dead, but of course Toby knew, as did Dinab, but them I will swear by, as they are as true as steel.” ‘*This robbery puts another phase upon the murder, Mr, Carlysle.”’ * Tt does, sir; but now show me exactly your theory of the case, where the body was found and give me all the information you can,” This the chief did and then Ceci] Carlysle said: ‘**Come, let us have a glass together, and then 1 will tell you my story.’ They drank to each otber’s very good health, and then Cecil Carlysle said: ‘*T was called to my plantation by a telegram from a trusted negro who has charge of my house there, telling me that my overseer had been killed by a worthless negro by the name of Black Tom, ‘* I went at once, and discovered that the over- seer had seen fit to reprove the man, and he had et astm that night when unarmed and illed. ‘* Tbe murderer had to sought escape, and hid- ing in the woods had not been discovered until the next morning, when the negroes themselves captured and lyncbed him, thus saving the courts trouble, the lawyers their fees, and the county expense,” ‘*In some cases lynch law serves a very good purpose, Mr, Carlysle, I cannot but admit.” ‘* Yes, but to myself now, “Three days after my arrival I was riding over my plantation, when 1 saw a flatboat run into a creek upon my place. **T rode over to the spot, and suddenly found myself covered by a shotgun, and was seized, bound, and taken on board the craft, when 1 was placed in a forward cabin. ‘*Ransom was the motive, of course, and I would have been held for a big sum, but man- aged to get around the man who brought me my meals, and bribed him to let me escape by slip- ping overboard, ‘*Tt was in the middle of the river that I be- gan my swim, but I managed to reach the shore, went to Greenville, and from there caught a steamer home, where [ found your telegrams and letters, *T forgot to say that my borse had been killed, and the idea left by my captors that [had been drowned, ‘¢Such the negroes believed to be the case, but fortunately I escaped, though I fear I shall be. a sufferer from my long swim, as I feel really ill to-night, The chief had the mystery cleared up, and soon after took his departure, carrying the offi- cer in the mansion with him, though a policeman was still left on duty at the gate to keep out curious people, CHAPTER XXVII. DICK DOOM APPEARS UPON THE SCENE. THE murder of Burton Ellis had ceased to be a ‘‘nine days’ wonder,” and the people of the town were only now and then discussing the possibilities of ever capturing the murderer, The reward offered by Cecil Carlysle, with another by the Police Department had stimu- lated the detectives to do their best, and they were still busy upon the case, But no clews had been found, and it was sup- posed that it would be set down in the end under the head of a ‘‘ murder mystery unsolved.” A number of gentlemen had called upon Cecil Carlysle, but be had almost invariably excused himself upon the plea of indisposition, and both Toby and Dinah, who had been again installed in their old bome, under bonds, con- fessed that the master was really ill. ‘*He don’t act hke hitnself since he came back, and seems to mope all the time. “T guess what he went through with has about turned his mind, for he don’t remember much about what happened before the murder.” So said old Toby, and Dinah coincided with him in bis opinion, for she said: ‘“*Yes, the master is greatly changed I can tell you, and where he was brave as a lion be- fore, be now has me and Toby sleep in the house and keep the lights burning all night. ‘‘He seems to forget where he put things, and Toby and me is getting very anxious about him,” At last Cecil Carlysle seemed to realize his ‘wn condition, that he was failing in health, at = he decided to run down to the plantation ee, ‘is he did, but he stopped there only a wee'and Hannibal Burke wrote Toby that the had obad not acted like bimself at all since he ‘e back, A few days after his return to his Memphis home Cecil Carlysle informed Toby and Dinah that he was going away on a visit of some months, **Just lock the house up and return to your quarters to live, ‘** Put a padlock upon the front gate and allow no one to come on the place, __‘* I will leave you money for all expenses, and if you need more, write me to the care of my bank here, and it will be forwarded to me,” Such were his orders, and the next night he departed on his travels, The very next day there arrived at the Gayoso Hotel a young gentleman who registered as: “Dick Doom, * New York,” He obtained a pleasant room overlooking the river, made himself comfortable, as though he intended to stay for some time, and deposited with the clerk in the office, for safe-keeping, a large roll of bank-notes, ’ He seemed willing to be drawn into conversa- tion, and to seek society, and could ask more questions than an old maid, It was the morning following his coming that he was pacing bis room lost in deep thought, and was musing as follows: ‘* How strange it is, that just as I came here to find Mr. Cecil Carlysle, there should be a murder at his home, ‘“*T have bought all of the papers giving ac- counts of the affair, and this article from the Scandalmonger interests me most, “Mr, Carlysle has led a varied life, that is certain. “T cannot purchase a picture of him, for he never had any photographs taken, it is said, ** Now, I have a tangled skein to unravel here that interests me greatly, considering that Mr. Carlysle is almost unknown here, that he is the rescuer of Miss Julia Harlowe, whose presence he seemed to shun for some reason, and upon the night when seen at the theater wore a cloak, * These facts interest me, considering that the lady living near the scene of Melton Reeves’s murder saw a man in a cloak and slouch hat running through the storm that very night, and about the time of the killing, ‘*T will read over all these newspaper reports, and jot down notes that I need, “*Tben I'll talk to every one I can, from boot- black tochief of police, presenting my letter to the latter when I wish to find out all that be can tell me, ** Tl have a look at the Carlysle place, have a talk with the servants there, and then take a run down to the plantation, for I am on the hunt for game, and have an idea that I can find it.” So it was that Dick Doom became 80 friendly with people about the hotel, stopped in the shops to make a small purchase, and got the sales- man’s opinion, talked with the hack-drivers and bootblacks, and at last made his way upto the Carlysle mansion. The gate was locked, but there was & rear en- trance, To this Dick Doom went, and he called Aunt Dinah, She approached suspiciously, but he had a winning way, and won her confidence. Then she called Uncle Toby, and after some little talk the detective was admitted. They all went into the out-house together, and there Dick Doom sat talking for a long while. When he left, both Toby and Dinah bad a new ten-dollar gold-piece in their hands, Mr. Doom’s next move was to take the night boat down the river, He got off the steamer at the plantation of Cecil Carlysle, and carried with him a letter to Hannibal Burke from old Toby, He was made welcome, and Hannibal Burke showed him the house, rode over the plantation with him, and told bim of two negroes who had rowed up the river in their canoe the day Mr. Carlysle was captured, and saw the flatboat in the mouth of the creek. 4 The two men were sent for and described the flatboat, which, contrary to most of that style of craft, was painted a lead Golor, and had two cabins, one fore and aft, with a weather-vane on the bow, in the form of a trotting-horse, Armed with this piece of information, and much more, Dick Doom caught the next steamer down the river, He stopped off at Greenville, for there Mr. Carlysle had said that he had gone after his escape from the flatboat. He went to the hotel and had a very Jong talk with the landlord, Mr, Carlysle had been there, that was cer- tain, came just before dawn, and the landlord described his dress and appearance, He bad taken a boat bound up the river, The next boat that came down was a fast Snorage landing only at_ large towns, and this ick Doom took to New Orleans. CHAPTER XXVIII. AS UNERRING AS A BLOODHOUND, THE steamer upon which Mr. Dick Doom took passage was making a flying trip against time, landing only at specified places on a big wager. The result was that she went flying down the river at a twenty-miles-an-bour pace, The Crescent City came into view at noon one day, and about the same time Dick Doom who stood upon the deck caught sight of the flatboat of Jeaden hue, with cabins fore and aft and a weather-vane of a trotting horse stuck on a pole forward, There were four men. on the flatboat and Dick Doom turned a glass upon their faces, ‘*That is my flat boat,” he muttered. ** Just in time, so I am in Juck, ‘“T'll be there to welcome the voyagers.” The steamer reached the levee at New Orleans within another hour, and taking a carriage Dick Doom drove up to Carrolton and watched for the coming flatboat, It soon after came in sight, and as it floated down the river the detective walked along on the top of the levee, Just before the setting of the sun the flatboat found a place to moor among # number of others of her class, ; Three men at once went on shore while one re- mained on board, That one was Parson Pete, and he soon had a visitor. 4 ‘* My man, I wish to havea talk with you, and I'll show you that I am an officer, so I wish the truth, if you expect to save your neck.” Parson Pete turned deadly pale, and glanced anxiously at the death-grip badge of the detec- tive. - “Yes, sir,” he said, in a husky voice. ‘* Where is your flat from?” “St. Louis, sir,” ‘* When did you leave?” The date was given. ‘* How long were you at Memphis?” “Two days, sir.” _ ‘‘ Where else did you stop?” “Only to tie up at night, sir, end at Vicks- burg for provisions.” ‘¢ Who owns the flat?” ‘* Four of us, sir.” ‘* Where are your papers?” They were exhibited, the bill of sale to the four men named, of flat, fittings and care, for a price stated, and sold to them by C, Carlysle, ‘ Where is this man?” ‘* He left us at Greenville, sir.” se Wh 7 ‘He sold out.” ‘* Now let me tell you that I know that you stopped at Silver Spring Creek, on the Carlysle plantation, and that you kidnapped the is es ter and—” 2 ** Pll out with the whole story, sir, if you will nh promise to spare my life,” cried Parson ete, **) I] let you go free if you tell me the whole truth.” ‘“You shall have it, sir,” said Parson Pete, eagerly, and he at once began the story of how he had been engaged by a strange captain in St. Louis, with his three companions, as a crew for the flatboat. He told of the captain’s going ashore in Mem- phis, their hasty departure, that he had plenty of money, too, and brought a tin box on board with him, The stop at the plantation, the discovery of the horseman, his capture, and the compact to kill him was aJl told, along with how he had aided him to escape. He showed the addressed envelope of Ceol Carlysle, told how he was dressed, described his personal appearance and ended by saying that they had never known their captain’s name un- til after he left and that he had signed the name of the kidnapped planter to his bill of sale of the flatboat and cargo. i The whole story was taken down in short hand as Parson Pete told it, and then Dick Doom made a note, and calling a man from the shore, sent it by him to its address. Ten minutes after, the chief of police came on board in civilian’s suit, accompanied by two officers, also without uniform. . The chief’s greeting of Dick Doom was most.
Page 15
<4 Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective. 15 ‘* You have played a very bold game, but you The flatboat had arrived when he returned, cordial, for it will be remembered that they : are trapped; and, my word for it, you will hang | and the crew were held to tell their oe and had met before, and the two had a long talk, , Then they all went into the cabin, and soon | for the murder of your twin brother, Cecil, if he | then appear against Clyde Carlysle in New York, i after the three others of the crew came on | be dead, and if not, for killing and robbing Mel- | after which Parson Pete was to be set free, ‘ad board, all gloriously drunk, ton Reeves, for whose murder a man is now un- | according to contract, \ In an instant they were in irons, and perfectly , der shadow of the gallows, ies sobered by the discovery that they were pris- **Come, you go with me, and if they do not Saas ; oners. hang you here in New York, then I will take CHAPTER XXX, + *“T wish to start the flat up-river to-night, ou back to Memphis to swing for the murder of OUNOLUsION } chief, in tow of the first steamer, and toengage | Burton Ellis, : . three of your officers to go in charge, while not | ‘* You are as clever a scamp as I know, and I | _ WHEN he reached Memphis, the first duty of a word of this must leak out, nor are the pris- | have long sougbt you for having killed Gordon Dick Doom was to place his prisoner in jail to oners to be seen, or any one allowed near them, | Grayburst in a duel where your pistol alone was | await his pl:asure, and then go aud see Cecil ‘*T will pay all expenses.” loaded with ball, Carlysle, f s “ The cada: a through boat to St, Louis, ‘*'You had as a second the very man, Valen- He found him looking thin and pale after his severe illness, but he saw at a glance the strik- ing resemblance to his wicked brother when the otber’s beard was sbaved off and hair cut in the same style that Cecil wore bis, The two went over the whole story together, and then Mr, Carlysle said: tine Gibson, who is now accused of a murder you committed here in New York that night of storm. ‘Your striking resemblance to your twin brother, your voice, size, manners, Caused you : goes at twelve to-night, and will take the tow ‘ for good pay, Dick, as she is a fast, strong boat. 7 ‘*T will see her captain at once, and hecan drop your flat at Memphis.” ‘*Good! and when does the packet go up to Memphis?” to feel that you could kill him and then imper- }.2%4 ¢ “ Fortunately, you can catch her, for she met | sonate him, I was told by Clyde years ago that I was nct at with an accident at starting time, and is repair- ‘* Your parents allowed him to be adopted in his twin brother, but his half-brother, and that : ing, so she will not leave i a couple of hours | infancy by wealthy relations of the same | ™y mother had been deserted by my father, who 4 et.” name, and thus you became sole heir to your | #fterward married his mother, aud that is why cn ‘* Then I return in ber, chief, and will ask you | father’s estate. they were willing to let me be adopted by others. “This I have since discovered was false, for we are twin brothers, only the thought of my shame has made me dread its being found out. ‘* You went to the bad, your brother lived a life of bonor. ‘You I have long sought as a connecting link in the crimes of Valentine Gibson, and now [ to see my boat started aJl right with the officers yi and prisoners,” **Pll do anything to help you, Dick,” was the reply, and the two parted, the chief to see about me, getting the Magnolia to tow tbe flat up to Mem- | have you both, _ “Now, I can say nothing to stay the hand of a phis, and the detective to catch the packet for | ‘' You have played a wicked game to add to | justice that must fall upon my erring, unfortu- at that city. your ill-gotten riches by marrying Miss | Date brother, ; "He reached the steamer just in time, and was | Harlowe, whom your brother rescued with her | And he did not, though Clyde Carlysle never came to trial, as one morning be was found:dead in his cell, having taken bis own Ife, Valentine Gibson was being taken to New Or- leans by Dick Doom when the steamer they were passengers on caught fire, and though the detec- tive escaped, he being in another part of the boat at tle time, the prisoner was not rescued, and it was said had perished in the flames, a fit- ting end for a life so evil as was his, Cecil Carlysle went North some time after hig brother’s death and met Julia Harlowe, and their acquaintance, so strangely begun, ended in the maiuen becoming the wife of her rescuer, As for Dick Doom, he returned to bis home near New Orleans, and said that with the death of Clyde Carlysle by his own hand, and Valen- father from death, ** But to-night I will lay before her the story of your black life. ** Come, I want you.” The man was utterly crushed and followed asa child might have done, Dick Doom called the servants, dismissed them, and locking the apartments put the keys ee 1 a goon on his way back to the place he had left, er i confident that he could unravel the tangle of ibe mystery about Cecil Carlysle. CHAPTER XXIX. - UNTANGLED, AFTER a rapid run up the river, Dick Doom | in his pocket. arrived in Memphis, aud put in an appearance Then the two, the detectivaand bis prisoner, at the Gayoso Hotel just as the proprietor was | descended to the carriage in waiting and were thinking of advertising him as having been mur- | drive to Police Headquarters, dered. The chief bad received a telegram to be there, ) He looked over more mail that had arrived |! and when he had warmly shaken bands with ~! for him, glanced at the papers to see if there , Dick Doom he heard the whole story of Clyde Ht) was anything new in the Carlysle case, and then | Carlysle’s crimes, th called upon the Memphis chief of police, and “Then, after all, in spite of the evidence, tine Gibson by fire, be must feel that he had had & presented bis letter from the New York chief, Valentine Gibson did not kill Mr, Reeves?” his révenge, for those most dear to bim, Gordon L He was most cordially received, and the two ‘*No, but he has done even blacker deeds, | Grayburst and his sister, Marion Grayburst bad fe men were closeted together for an hour, and 1 have the papers for taking him to New | most surely been avenged, and that bad been the aim of his detective work as a mysterious un- Orleans, while this is the gentleman with the known, cloak who killed Reeves, got, as he believed, all the money from his purse and then threw it away as he ren. ‘** With that money he laid the foundation to kill his brother, impersonate him and wed Miss Harlowe. “T have followed him step by step through all of his acts, and the next thing to do is to find Cecil Carlysle'for I cannot believe he was drowned in the Mississippi that uight when set free by Parson Pete,” Leaving the Police Headquarters, Dick Doom had gone out to call upon old Toby and Dinah. They remembered bis former generosity and received him well, and were delighted with some presents he had brought them, It was not very bard to persuade them to let him look over the bouse, and he asked them all about the murder of Burton Ellis over again, £ and they described everything. Spe! | Stopping in front of a framed cpherceraph in et Cecil Carlysle’s bedroom, he asked: r* ** Whose picture is this?” oe ' “A lady Massa Cecil saved from being kilt, THE END. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. BY JOSEPH FE. BADGER, JR, 2 Vellowstone Jack; or, The REaEes 48 Black John, the Road-Ayent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Hurricane Gills or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. 119 Mustang 8am ; or, The King of the Plains, a 7t oon — friended again and again, ‘Hold your man for requisition. Answer. _ ‘‘ Onrer PoLice, Memphis.” Dick Doom did ans wer as follows: “Have my man safe, Will have to stand trial here for murder of Melton Reeves. If he escapes with his neck before a New York jury, will give a Memphis jury a chance to hang him. ; “Will stop over on way South with a prisoner 89 Silverblade, the Hostile. 48 Silverblade, the Friendly; or, The Border Beagle’s Boy Pard, i 186 Night-Llawk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, i aie a Dick Doom spoke a telegram was brought 144 Da nty Lance the Roy Sport. c a; . { * . . J anther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the ecue, ; ‘‘ He said he saw the photograph in New York The chief glanced at itand handed it to the’de- | 160 The Black Glant: or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. . = 4 99 P ’ ° ith th : 4 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. and bought it, | tective with the remark: 17 : ce 2 . 184 The Roy Trailers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path. “Tt is the photograph of a lady I know, Miss ** This is for you, Dick,” 208 che Bo Pards; or, Dainty Lance Unmaska, er.) Julia Harlowe,” suid the detective, It read: B10 The Marraede, Wolf The Denanttcoe ps 22g After a thorough investigation of the house , . 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League. is & Ras he took his leave, but not until Toby said they “Cecil Carlysle turned MP tonight athome. Was | 885 Old Double Fist; or, he Strange Guide oe & had a letter from Mr. Carlysle stating that he |! picked va ood t4 in the ississippi nearly exhaust- yer ne pone of as May oir At Boone’s Last Trail, ; 5 y : . ed, by a flatboat’s crew, 625 © hoes SHE Harder ‘Sov Detective eee ee — rooms in New York to remain some : “Was taken ill and nursed by them on the voyage er? Chineapin Tay She Bex ST ratlems (35 aaeCe P i 2 own. Shineapin Dan's I » Stretch. Ip Oe ec eee Fb Carli on ny fa Pasi him a pho- se Ablength, atter long and severe fever, recovered | 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. fonts raph of Cecil Cariysie, lately taken in New | and returned home. aL CY / i‘ farags Sek aud which was in an album, ‘He tells me that the man you are after is Clyde ton Eiftertiee the (ee ae This he had to take without being seen by Toby Carlysle, his twin brother, and whom he has be- 729 Silverblade, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle at Bay. . ‘ z : or Dinab, and he did it as deftly as a pick- u pocket. i That night Dick Doom started for New York, _— Yeaving the chief of police at Memphis to re- Mice 5 ceive the flatboat and prisoners upon arrival, Sey ae He reached New York about dark, and an ne hour after drove up to a flat-house ina fash- jonable quarter of the city, rung the bell ‘and was invited into the parlor to await the coming BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS, 546 Captain Cactus, the Chaparral Cock, 568 The Dandy of Dodge. 576 The Silver Sport. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With « Shadow 589 Tom-Cat and Pards or, 7 he Dend Set at Silver City. 601 lappy Hana, the Dutch Vidoeg, an Bildac Barnacle, the pease erculia: SE I et 2 Rk Ee eS ee ee Se a eee Se ae. oe = ES ra a ae Ee ee ee 2 = Zz =~ m = = : — -_ A 2 i s z ~_ + ~ , te f x Texas Tom-Cat’s Trin¢ ¢ Sas of the owner of the apartments. _ wanted in New Orleans. Saentnaad 681 Tome ht pt e Task. |. _He had not long to wait, when in came a tall . 4 Tom-Cat's Be Cee Dan's Great Combine, Ne : Py ° ‘ ¥ . ve e- a ao ve. Malas * handsome man in full evening dress, who said Having sent this dispatch Dick Doom entered | 657 Warbling William, the Mountain Mountebank, jz Pm Fs, impatiently: a carriage and was driven rapidly to the Har- pb golly Jeremiahy he Flaine Delage . ‘ I do not recognize you by your card, sir, so |} lowe Mansion, where Julia was waiting for the aes aire bon viex sa cout. what is your business with me?” coming of Carlysle to take her to the opera. 699 Siraple Sim, the Rroncho Buster. ——————————————E———EE—E—E—————————— EEE ye 5 ore “Do you refuse to recognize an old friend? | She greeted the detective with surprise, and | 1% ‘The Menmeriit Sporty or, The Mystifed Detective, en: B Come! ee me grasp your hands, Carlysie,” and | before her father she heard the story of Clyde | t4s atten Sie, the Cnet meeniee in an instant there came the quick click, click, | Carlysle’s infumy, 761 Marmaduke, the Mostanger Detective. ane vp Team nh ee was in cmap ed hi é ie go ce twelve, Dick Tas rs Clyde A New inaue Every Tuesday. ae Fe, He back, but a revolver cover m arlysle roken down and made full con- alf-Dim: for sale b adealers, and he heard the words: | fession, took Valentine Gibson from the Tombs, FR mers way Pangan 2\ <heb on A Shr pgam a id “Come, Clyde Carlysle. You are my pris- | on a requisition of the Governor of Louisiana, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, ees} ate . and started South with him, 98 William Street, New York. rca eed vl Ye . Ve 7 ott Neg (OR ; ol ae
Page 16
The Raiders ‘wm Rangers, = | * ‘Sa Stuer sorees = [ARS sre Seprecees ane waas 100K, ‘ “SW, & Taster, of Toone and wow wns tate | Bes wie Cee “bye Fyle be tacos ns 784 Dick Doom, the Death-Grip Detective, 777 Dick Doom’s Destiny. 772 Dick Doom’s Death-Grip, 766 Dashing Charlie, the Rescuer. 760 Dashing Charlie’s Pawnee Pard. 756 Dashing Charlie’s Destiny. 749 Dashing Charlie; or, The Kentucky Tender- foot’s First Trail, 743 Buck Taylor’s Boys. 737 Buck Taylor, the Comanche’s Captive; or, Buckskin Sam to the Rescue, 731 Ruth Redmond, the Girl Shadower. 725 Daring Dick, Pawnee Bill’s Pard; or, The Red Cavalry Raid. 719 Pawnee Bill’s Pledge; or, The Cowboy Kidnapper’s Doom, 713 Carl, the Mad Cowboy; or, The Lariat ueen, 707 the Red Sombrero Rangers; or, Red- fern’s Last Trail. 702 Blue Jacket Bill; or, The Red Hat Rang- *er’s Red Hot Racket. 697 The Sharp from Texas; or, The Scarlet Sombrero, 692 The Rival Sharps; or, Redfern, the Secret Service Scout, 686 Orlando, the Ocean Free Flag; or, The Tarnished Name, 679 The Sea Shadower; or, The Freebooter’s Loge 674 The Wizard Sailor; or, Red Ralph, the Rover, 668 The Buccaneer Midshipman; or, The Sea Rover’s Ruse. 662 Butterfly Billy’s Bonanza; or, The Specter Soldier of the Overland. 656 Butterfly Billy’s Man Hunt, 650 Butterfly Billy, the Pony Rider Detec- tive: or, Buffalo Bill’s Boy Pard. 644 Butterfly Billy’s Debut. 617 Ralph, the Death-Shot Scout; or, The Raiders and Red Riders of the Rio. 607 The Rover Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions, 602 The Vagabond of the Mines, A Romance of Detective Work on the Frontier. 597 The Young Texan Detective; or, The Black Bravos, 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea Rover; or, The Avenging Sailor, 586 The Buckskin Avenger; or, Pawnee Bill’s Pledge. 580 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective. 5%5 The Surgeon-Scout Detective; or, Running Down the King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen; or, The Skeleton Trail. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King; or, The Owls of the Overland. 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower; or, The Gold Queen’s Secret, 555 The Creole Corsair; or, The Golden Wings of the Gulf, 550 Lafitte’s Legacy: or, The Avenging Son, | 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte, or, The Buccaneers of Barrataria, 540 Captain Ku Klux, the Marauder of the Rio; or, The Buckskin Pard’s Strange Quest. 535 The Buckskin Rovers; or, The Prairie Fugi- tive, 580 The Buckskin Bowers; or, The Cowboy Pirates of the Rio Grande, 525 Brothers in Buckskin; or, Tangled Trails in Texas, 520 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow; or, A Crimson Trail. 511 The Outlaw Middy; or, The Young Patriot Sea Ranger. he 507 The Hunted Midshipman; or, The Young Sea Ranger. | 508 The Royal Middy; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat, ‘ 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys; or, The Raiders and the Rangers. 495 Arizona Joe, the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger; or, The Young King of the Gold Mines, COL, PRENTISS INGRAHAM, | 483 Wizard Will’s Last Case; or, Ferrets Afloat. 474 Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard; or, Flora the Flower Girl, ; 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster; or, A Pirate in Spite of Himself. | 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailor Boy Wan- derer, | 454 Wizard Will’s Street Scouts; or, The Boy Detectives’ League. 450 Wizard Will, the Wonder-Worker; or, The Boy Ferret of New York. 446 Haphazard Harry; or, The Scapegrace of the Sea, 441 The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 437 The Sea Raider; or, The Hawks of the Hook, 433 Captain Carl, the Corsair; or, A Cabin Boy’s Luck. 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee; or, A Young Sailor’s Fight for Fortune. ; 412 The Wild Yachtsman; or, The Cruise of the War-Cloud. 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 402 Isodor, the Young Conspirator; or, The Fatal League. 893 Seawaif, the Boy Lieutenant; or, The Red Clasped Hands. : 887 Warpath Will, the Traitor Guide; or, The Boy Phantom. 883 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for the Pirate Island. 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover; or, The Flagless Schooner. 314 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long Trai), Col. Ingraham’s Novels in Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. 308. Dead Shot Dandv’s Double; or, Keno Kit, the Boy Bugler’s Pard. 304 ap ate a Soot Dandy; or, Benito, the Boy ugler. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover; or, Terror Tom’s Thorny Trail. 284 Merle Monte’s Pledge; or, the Sea Marauder, 280 Merie Monte’s Fate; or, the Pirate’s Pride, 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, The Chase of ‘The Gold Ship,” 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 264 The Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure Island. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer; or, Brandt, the Buccane>r, 245 Merle, the Middy; or, The Heir of an Ocean Freelance, 237 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain; or, The Mysterious Ranchero. 229 Crimson Kate, the Girl Trailer; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer, 216 Bison Bill, the Prince of the Reins; or, Buffalo Bill’s Pluck, 204 Buffalo Billy, the Pony Express Rider; or, Gold Plume, the Boy Bandit. 197 Little Grit, the Wild Rider; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 116 The Hussar Captain; or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, 111 The Sea-Devil; Legacy. 102 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Smuggler: or, The Cruise of the Vixen. 75 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea Wolf. 62 Shadow Ship; or, The Rival Lieutenants. 24 Diamond Dirk; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccaneer; or, The Fugitive Yacht. 7% The Flying Yankee; or, Ocean Outcast. LATEST ISSUES, 785 Lone Hand Joe, the Committee of One. By Lieut. A. K, Sims, 786 Broadway Billy’s Team. Ready August 16th. For sale by all newsdealers at five cents per copy, or sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. or, The Midshipman’s By J. C. Cowdrick, : re i J | ¥ DETECTIVES: ai ae Tf \oouts Rance of Metrepetian Sa ¢ wi, The Sender Werhee™ — y7 bes , fomas vinares> -_ =e, | me, are sods CHAPTER ¥. e *, $ arnanoe rom sk” Camrace Rtas Das saet of Gar Py