Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 859) (1894 01 09)
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i he Young Chief of the Thirteen Shadowers. = ee ae a I x Rt OM f ‘ ia | - | | | WW : aa SSL ORL ® . Eth Ce eae gee car ad | ally Ra, VFS Vk 7A < iT wee TIT \N January *, 18 ‘ Pree. Vol, XENI, oe lk Tle Girl Queen ofthe Boy Police League, BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, a CHAPTER I, R es Se = = THE MASKED MURDERERS, LESS ——— ——— * You have killed him! ms ——-—— - _ ae BUT NEW YORK NAT WAS TOO QUICK FOR HIM, AND HIS WEAPON ete tes on "yon Seal ae hon thi FLASHED FIRST, red crime!”
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New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. ( aM ohn, | her last utterance, or threat against stron men, she bowed her face in her hands an crouched down on the floor by the side of the body. of the one just slain, The scene was a strange one, for five men with masked faces had shrunk back from their deed of crime as suddenly into the room a young girl had dashed, her eyes flashing, face livid and whole manner one of intense excitement. She had not appeared to notice the men who shrunk back at her entrance until she had thrown herself by the side of the dead body, placed ber hand over his heart and then, feeling that life was gone forever from him, had uttered the threat that each one of the murderers should hang for their red crime. f ‘Bah! girl, your threats are harmless; and more—if we do not find that old man’s gold, you shall suffer his fate also, So come! where is it hidden? You know and cansave usa search,” and one of the men stepped toward the kneeling girl. She sprung to her feet and faced him like a tigress at bay. **Come, where is the gold? Talk quick if you wish to save your life, for it is no more to us than that old man’s,” “That’s so! Dead’ gals, like dead men, tell’ no tales,” growled one of the other men, and drawing a knife he stepped forward as Takai quite ready to take the young girl’s ife. Contrary to the expectation of all, she neither started back, nor cried out; but with a calmness most impressive said ina low, dis- tinct tone; — , **T do not know where his gold is hidden, and if I did I would not tell you.” ‘* Ha! you dare defy us?’ cried the first speaker, ey ‘Yes; forall I loved in the world lies dead at my feet, and what have I tolive for, now?” Her voice had ee to one full of pathos, its defiant tone subdued by her great grief, Then, in the silence that followed her words there came, with startling distinctness, uttered by no one knew who, nor from whence it came, and seemingly breathed in _ their very midst, the words; “ Live for revenge !” A yell of terror broke from the lips of sev- eral of the masked men, for the words seem- ed to have come from the lips of the dead man, while the effect was, rendered more startling by the cry: Yes, I will live for revenge. Murderers, I defy you!’ i ; _ ‘*Men, we are betrayed. Quick or all is lost! Come !” It was the leader who spoke, and he darted toward the door, not leading his men, for in their terror they had already sprung ferward to escape. . But, as he reached the door he cried sav- -agely’ ‘* You shall not escape, girl!” With the words he threw his hand forward. Tt held a revolver, and his finger was upon the trigger. But, the shot was not fired, for, suddenly, there rung through the house the shrill notes _of a police whistle, and with it came a shot that shattered the lampin the room to atoms, lenving all in utter darkness, _ With a cry of half-alarm, half-joy, the girl dropped by the side of the murdered man, the silence unbroken now, save by the | rapid rush of the fugitive murderers. A moment passed; the running feet were no longer heard, and silence intense, with a - darkness that could be felt, enveloped the mansion, biting the red deed just committed SO I eh its roo i Several minutes passed; then came in a} low whisper: | _. ** Where are you, miss?” ‘The girl started at the whispered words, AL spoken “seemingly at her very side, and ‘ it be di, hy i Hie Ua: ub The speaker was a young girl, and with | | said, w springing to her feet, as she in vain tried to penetrate the darkness about her, she asked: ‘« Who is it that speaks to me?” ‘* Only @ boy, miss,” was the low reply. “A boy?” “Yes, miss; but I scared the men away. I was terribly afraid they would kill you.” ‘“‘ But for you they would have done so, I believe. But, who are you?” ‘€T don’t know, miss.” ** You don’t know who you are?” ‘The boys call me Graveyard Jack, miss, and New York Nat, for Nat, I think, is my real name,” ‘* Where are you?” the girl asked. ‘‘ |’ve just come down the chimney, miss,” was the quiet response. ‘‘ Just wait. Ill strike a match and let you see, miss,” CHAPTER IL ‘* GRAVEYARD JACK.” THE snap of a match was heard, there was a flash of light, then a flickering glare, and the one who had spoken to her was revealed, holding the burning bit of wood above his head and showing himself standing in the large, old-fashioned fireplace, appearing as though he was peering out of some dark cavern. ‘¢ There is another lamp—I will light it,” and the young girl sprung across the room to the table, where, near the one shattered by the bullet, was a second lamp. - This she quickly lighted, and then turned to gaze upon the one who had so strangely and spooklike come to her rescue, He had stepped out of the large fireplace, and stood revealed in the strong rays of the lamp—‘‘ only a boy,” as he had said, for he did not appear to be over fifteen, though well built for his years, and possessing a slender, wiry form, clad in a gray suit, con- siderably the worse for wear, and with the cap of a messenger-boy upon his head, bear- ing the letters: ON, Y¥. N. oF tHe B. P. L,” His face was one to attract any one, so handsome and intelligent it was, with a dash of daring and spirit in it that Was unmis- takable. The room he had entered was very large ‘scantily furnished, with a cot, table an chair only and with the heavy wooden shut- ters closed and barred. The dead man lying upon the floor near the cot had his hat on, while, scattered about him, were a number of purchases with which his arms had been filled when the fatal bullet pierced his heart. The mansion where the tragedy had oc- curred was a lurge one, built of brick and stone, surrounded by large grounds, and situated in New York City, not far from the Hudson—the proneee in the rear running back to an ol »veyard, from which the ashes of the dead are now being taken from before the march of the living, : The youth stood gazing with as deep in- terest upon the young girl as she was gaz- ing upon him, for, whatever the motive which had brought him there, he seemed surprised at finding her in the dead man’s home. He beheld a young girl about his own age, for she had hardly yet crossed the threshold of sweet sixteen, and her beauty riveted hiseyes upon her, Her face was refined, her hair golden, her eyes large, lustrous and black, and her form well developed and graceful. She was well dressed, in blue flannel, that fitted her form well, and as she leaned for. | ward in her eagerness to get a good look at her rescuer hér attitude was both graceful and striking. Focedieall. oh “So zou are called Graveyard Jack?” she * Yes, ‘miss, as well as New York Nat.” * : when she had critically scanned the | face of the routh. - = of the rich can even be seen several | unmolested through generations. | greens run wil | man found a home where he ¢o “‘ Why do they call you by such tert names as Graveyard Jack?” ‘*'You won’t tell on me?” “Oh. NO. ‘* Because I live in a graveyard, for any name goes that fits, you see, among the boys.” ** You live in a graveyard?” repeated the startled girl, gazing with keener interest at the youth, # ‘* Yes, miss; I live in the graveyard back i of this rookery. My homeis in a big but unused vault there, and the boys who know it nickname me Graveyard Jack.” ‘«Tell me why you live in the graveyard ?” ‘‘T am safe there. miss, for no one comes ‘ there to disturb me.” ** Safe?” ‘Yes, miss; I live in a vault with an iron 4 door, and—” ) “ And the bodies?” asked the young girl with a shudder, é ‘«They are there miss, but all sealed up, each in its niche, so they don’t disturb me. It’s the dive folks I’m afraid of, not the dead.” ‘* What cause have you to beafraid of any one?” : ‘‘The same cause which you had to be , afraid of those men awhile since—which i poor Miser Maxwell, lying dead on the floor there, had reason to fear—because there are men who are cruel as death itself when they seek gold or revenge.” The boy spoke like one in years older than he appeared to be, and the young girl seem- : ed deeply impressed by his words aud man- | ner, | She apparently had forgotten the dead form lying upon the floor, and stood gazing at the youth until he recalled her to herself with the words: “‘ What was Miser Max to you, miss?” She started and ber face paled once more, i, her eyes filled with tears, and, kneeling by se the side of the still form once more she bowed her head and answered: : ‘We. ‘He was my grandfather,” » ie! ee ‘I did not know he had a soul in the whole world to love him, but me. I feel very ae sorry for you, miss,” C ‘You loved him then? Whatwasheto § ia ou?” ee | ae ‘‘He saved my life once; that was all, and _ he gave me food when I was hungry—but listen!” ‘Both stood silent and attentive now, for a sound had come to their ears, the sound of an approaching step. Another moment und a voice called out: “Ho, Cap! is the work done, or am I in time to share in the job and the chink of the old miser?”’ As the last word was spoken a man’s form _ stepped into the room, coming through the — door by which the murderers had fled afew — moments betore. . it The intruder was masked. Oa At his appearance the youn git] uttered a ery of alarm, and when she eld his sur- prise at sight of them and his sudden at- tempt to draw a weapon, she cowed down in terror, ey vehi ie. : But, New York Nat was too quick for ® him and his weapon flashed first, ae SE ee — ee ete | : CHAPTER III, “‘ MISER MAX,” Tue ‘ old houses” of New York City are rapidly being destroyed by the growth of the greater metropolis, but here and there can — yet be found one that dates back a century — of years, while, hidden by the tall mansions — burying places where the dead have slept 3%, _ It was in one of these old-time mansions - wi surrounded by several acres, thick withever- d, and by large ant that. Ores”
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from his fellow-men and hoard the gold that he seemed to live soiely to accumulate, The mansion was a large and rambling one, with several wings, a vast cellar, a “square tower and altogether dismal in the ex- treme, In its day it had been a grand old home; its halls had rung with merry voices,now long since silenced by death, and its possessor had and wealthy in the land. But, a blight had fallen upon the place ‘when its heiress had one night been killed by the master of the’ mansion, her own father, The fair girl had dared to love one whom her father disapproved of because who was a poor struggler for wealth and fame, un- known in the circle in which she was a bright particular star. The maiden, sought for her beauty, powers of fascination and’ wealth, had refused the offers of suitors whose names were known well, to love a poor youth, the sailing-master of her father’s yacht. He had sprung overboard one day in a storm, when & wave had washed her off of the vessel’s deck, had seized her in his arm’s, : and himself gave the order to lay the yacht to and lower the life-boat. He had held her unconscious form in his arms until the boat came and picked them ‘both up, and then, when she was safe in her father’s care, he had resented as an insult the offer of the rich man to pay him for what he had done. His angry rebuke of the father caused his discharge when the yacht dropped anchor opposite to the mansion of the owner, but he had soon become the skipper of a small coasting-vessel, and at each coming into port the two lovers—for such the rescued maiden and the young sailor had become— met by stealth, At length discovering that his beautiful daughter was clandestinely meeting the ssilor, the enraged father threatened to shoot the lover, as he would slay a robber, : the next time he found him in the grounds; and, to make sure that the young sailor should receive no warning theirate father confined his rebellious daughter to her rooms. But, Mabel Maxwell was not to be 4 thwarted thus, for love made her brave as ~well as rebellious, " Determined to meet her lover at all haz- i ards, she secured, through her maid, a suit | of male attire anda rope ladder, and so left her rooms one moonlight night when she supposed her father was asleep in his chamber. It was the night that ber lover was to mcet a her, at the arbor in the grounds, and, glid- a” ing egepel Ds evergreens she sought the he! trysting- place, when, lo! a flash came, a A sharp report rung out, and the father dash- & ¥ ‘ ati ed out of the arbor with the words : mie ‘*So, thief and villain that you are, you ee) have met your “em doom!” ay ‘‘Father, it is not Nathan Chandler that - you have shot down, but J, your daughter ey “Mabel. ” mie With a wild cry, Paul Maxwell fell like err one death stricken by the side of his wound- 8 ba ed daughter. | oe Thus the servants found the two, when, alarmed by the shot and cry they ran to the scene. It was weeks before Paul Maxwell rallied from the attack of brain fever that followed pate mes aS 5 ad Bi A his mad act, and learned that his daughter a died, yet left him her forgiveness. ney And more: she told him that months he- ey fore she had secretly become the wife of Na- than Chandler,and had intended to confess the truth to him and go forever from his home if he was unforgiving. Pau! Maxwell heard all with hard-set face, made no comment, and discharging his ser- ‘vaats, closed the mansion, and went abroad, to become a wanderer in foreign lands, been noted as among the most aristocratic | EN Testy Cie PSs New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. What the poor wanderer’s life was, what scenes he passed through no one knew; but, long years after, a score it was, when the memory of his act was almost forgotten, and another generation of people had grown up about his old home—where the city growth had, encircled the mansion—he came back to the scene of his tragedy, accompanied by a little girl of ten. But a few days bad the girl remained in the dismal old home; then she had gone away, no one knew where, and the man with stern face and white hair had become known as ‘‘ Miser Max of the Haunted House.” A complaint had been made by some against bim; but it was found that he was the owner of the mansion, so he was undis- turbed and there he lived alone, amid the scenes of former years of happiness with those he then loved, haunted by the specter of his great crime in taking the life-of his beautiful daughter, Though worth a large fortune, his only object in life seemed to be to accumulate more. He was from early morn until night- fall doing all in his power to make money and hoard it up. Why, no one knew, for it was said that he had nota single heir to leave it to, nor a soli- tary friend on whom to bestow his posses- sions, Many of the old people shunned him, in remembrance of his crime in the past, while the children hooted at him as Miser Max, of the Haunted House, and stood in awe of him, too—none of them dariug to invade the grounds surrounding the forlorn old man- sion, And it was ‘‘ Miser Max” whom the masked robbers had slain. CHAPTER IV. THE DEADLY SHOT. Te words of the man who had come into the home of the miser, entering the room where his dead body lay, guarded by the young girl and the youth, told why he was there—that he had expected to meet his pals in the old rookery, and supposed they were counting over the gold of the man they had come there to murder and rob. The surprise of the masked villain, who had come Iate upon the scene, was great, as we have seen; but as such miscreants are usually on the alert for oe beer that may happen, he at once drew his pistol to cover his retreat, if necessary, by another tragedy. But, Graveyard Jack was too quick for him, for the boy’s revolver had flashed in a second of time, and the aim had been deadly. The masked man gunk in his tracks with not so much as a moan, for the bullet had sunk deep into his forehead. The girl gazed at the youth, speechless in her terror and amazement, as he stood there cool, silent and watchful. At last she found the power of speech, and said in a hushed voice full of awe: **Oh! what have you done—what have you done!” ** Killed him,” was the cool response in a wholly unmoved tone. \ ‘*Are you sure that he is dead, or has he only fainted?” came in the same hushed voice, ‘*Men don’t faint as women do, and one like him could not faint,” **Then he is dead?” : “ce Yes. ” ** You are sure?” and she made a step for- ward. ‘** Do you see that little hole in his forehead, just between his hat and the top of his mask, which has slipped down?” “e Yes.” ‘*“That’s where my bullet hit.” **T wish that you had not killed him.” ‘*Then I would now be as he is,” was the reproachful reply. ‘Oh, Jack! I did not mean that. I wish that he had runaway. But, I saw that he meant to kill you.” ‘That will save me from being jugged, perhaps from a rope dance, for my own tes- timony would be no good in a court.” ‘**Must you be tried, do you think, for this act?” ‘I guess so, though I wish I didn’t have tobe. What did you say your name was, miss?” ** Olive,” ‘It's a pretty name; but I guess I'll take a look at this man and see if I know him.” He stepped forward as he spoke, and with a firm hand removed the black mask from the pallid face. It was a cruel face even with the sear of death upon it, vicious and sin-stamped. ‘‘Tt is Brass Knuckles Bill, a tough,” said Jack quietly. * Who is he? ‘*You knew him then?” ‘Yes, miss, as I know many of the toughs in town, ‘‘He killed a man some years ago, they said, and was sent to State’s Prison, served out his term, and when he came back went to robbing, but was too sly to let the cops get a grip on bim again, ‘‘His pals called him Brass Knuckles Bill, for he always wore brass knuckles un- der a glove. ‘**] guess the cops will be glad to know he is dead, for he is one less of the bad band known as the ‘Masked Angels,’ and whom the police have never been able to spot, or identify, seeing that their faces were always masked when any crime was committed; but Bill is now spotted, for sure.” ‘* You seem to know much of these wicked men, Jack,” sadly said Olive. “I do, miss, but 1 hope to know more,” was the frank ad The girl started at this response, and placing her hand geatly upon his shoulder she looked her rescuer squarely in the face and asked: ‘‘ Jack, tell me «ho and what you are!” The youth was silent for a moment, his ps te busy; but, after awhile he respond- e ‘See here, miss, there are those who think me all that is bad, while the cops are hunting me all the time.” “Why do they hunt you?” ‘‘Because they believe me to be a hard case—a night prowler and burglar’s spy-—— yes, a murderer too,” } ‘‘And are you bad, Jack?” ‘* Before God, I am net!” The words fairly leaped from the lips of the boy, so sudden and vehement they were spoken. Olive started at the outburst, then she placed her other hand upon the boy’s. shoul- der, and looking him in the eyes as though she would pierce to his inmost soul, said in a voice full of confidence: ** Jack, I believe you—I do not believe you are bad.” ** Why don’t you?” ** In the first psace you came to my rescue, and you drove those bad men off.” ‘‘Any one would have done that,” «I don’t think so; but, inthe second place, you confess that you are called bad, yet if you were so, you would keep the fact hid- den,” “Well, miss?” “In the third place, you would not live in a graveyard if you were wicked and a mur- derer—a man of evil would not dare do that!” ‘Yes, miss?” inquiringly replied Jack, as though expecting another reason. ‘You have just killed that ruffian to de- fend me, and so you are brave, and well; you cannot be bad, No, Jack, what- ever you may seem to be to others I believe you are incapable of a criminal life.” ood, as.
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; ed early and late, about the hotels and theaters, sat) profit; and I was growing rich, when one oe aauaiy sa lye aeons Sreaslned CHAPTER Y. THE GIRL WAIF, Jack seemed to be deeply moved by these words of the young girl, which showed such complete trust in him, He met her gaze unflinchingly, as he an- swered: **T thank you, miss, for not thinking me bad, for [am not and never will be.” “‘[ believe you; but why won’t you tell me about yourself?” “You will have to appear against me at the trial, miss, and—’” “And what?” ‘Of course I will be held a prisoner, for the cops will not let me escape.” ‘* Jack,” ** Yes, miss.” ‘*Why must there be a trial?” ‘‘What else can be done, miss? There is your fatier, and the other, whose deaths must be reported by you.” ***Must I report them?” asked the girlin a startled way. ‘* Yes, miss,” ‘*And that means a trial and the whole story must be told?’ ‘* Yes, miss.” ‘*And perhaps my testimony cannot clear you and that you will have to go to prison?” ‘* That is about it, unless I skip.” Jack?” | ** Yes, miss.” **Can I trust you?” ** You bet you can.” **T will do so.” ‘‘T’ll stand by you, miss, if you need a friend, for I like you.” The girl smiled, for the confession pleased her; then she added: “ Jack, that is my grandfather, and Iam poing to tell you allabout myself, so per- aps you can tell me what is best to be done.” ‘* Yes, miss; I'll try.” ‘*T donot know much about my past, or my parents, and my grandfather made me vow to him, years ago, that I would never ask about his life, or in any way seek to ferret it out. ‘**L remember my mother only when she was lying upon her dying bed, She was very poor, and our home was in the poorest quarter of the city, ‘*My father was a sailor and away ona long cruise when mother died, so I was taken charge of by an organ-grinder, and had to play the tambourine and dance on the streets, . ‘* My little brother was taken by some one else, and I never saw hiin again.” ‘Was the organ-grinder kind to you, miss?” asked Jack ina sympathetic way. ‘*Oh, no; he was so very, very cruel, and he treated me so that I ranaway from him, although I was then not nine years of age. ‘*T was with him for two years, and he traveled from city to city all over the coun- try. : “One thing about him was that he had an education, and he made me study hard, so that I searned a great deal. ‘T had to read the papers to him, too, and so I became old before my time, . * At lust Tran away from him, and_the very next day I saw in the papers, which I still read, how he had been murdered, so I had no fear of his finding me, and felt no sorrow at his death, .. **L had saved up some money, and with it I got me a boarding lace in a French family and began to sell owers fora living, **T made a great deal of money and work- | had gcod customers in the saloons, in the lowest parts of the city, and also in Wall street and Broadway, while at night I went “Some days I made as high as ten dollars ‘4 - bees & Le New York Nat, the G a feel in all its intensity, — —_—— Lae ee ~oohe Peck Slip to find the house on fire, and . every dollar I had hidden away in my little room, going up in flames. ‘‘In my mad fight I dashed into the burn- ing building to try and save my little for- tune of nearly a thousand dollars; overcome ; by the heat and smoke I was giving up | when a man seized me in his arms and bore me out to life. ‘‘He gave me into the care of a police captain, and my name being published in the papers the next morning, my father, home from his cruise, saw it and thus found me, when for months he had been looking | for me in vain. ‘He carried me to his little home on Long Island Sound, and it seemed that I was going | to be happy there, with him to care for me; but, ere six months had passed, a small yacht ran into the cove one night, my father was called down to the shore, and, soon af- ter, I saw two flashes, heard two reports, and when the one servant we had and I got to the beach, my father lay there dying from a bullet wound, ‘*T heard his last words: ‘‘*He deemed me guilty, forced me to fight a duel with him and this is the end of it all—no, no, not the end, for my child lives and what will be her fate?’ “Jack, those last words of my father seemed to run into my heart and brain, and I can never forget them. “I saw him buried by kind friends, and, just as it was being considered what should be done with me, then in my twelth year, a gentleman came, who said that he was my grandfather, that he was rich and would care for me, “‘T caught but one glimpse of him and recognized in him the brave, white-haired man with stern face, who had dashed into the burning building and saved my life. ‘*Oh, how I loved him for his brave res- cue of me from a frightful death! Glad iv I to go with him, to find a second fa- ther. ‘He took me to the city, bought me lots of pretty clothes, and then it was he told me that his life had been one of sorrow and ask- ed me toswear that I would never seek to find ont the past. ‘‘T took the oath, and then he brought me here to this very old mansion, for it was his, and here I lived with him for a couple of months, when he took me away to boarding- school, away down South, in New Orleans, ‘For years 1 was kept there, and twice a year saw him for a day only, ‘Then, a week ago, when vacation came, he appeared and brought me here with him once more, ‘“We only arrived this afternoon, and while I set things to rights he went out and bought food for us, ‘‘He had just returned when these cruel men attacked him, and I ran in here to see him lying there, dead, and, with the old spirit of my girlhood training in the Italian organ-grinder’s school of revenge, I threat- ened, Panwed to avenge his death. “Then you came, Jack, and now you know all ond tell you of Olive, the Little Flower Girl, as I was called.” CHAPTER VI. NEW YORK NAT’S CONFESSION. Tue boy had listened to the strange story of the girl waif, with an interest that was revealed in his attitude and every feature of his most expressive face. The circumstances surrounding the two, who were little more than children in years, yet old in the experience of the lives they had led, the old rookery that the neighbors called haunted, the weird graveyard in its rear, the house of the old miser, now lyin dead upon the floor, the body of the mid- night marauder—all, combined, made a situ- ation that both Jack and Olive could not but i ——— ECO ST hoes + oe 4 amin Detective. ‘* You have heard my story, Jack, so what- would you tell me to do now?” After a short silence the youth asked: ** May J make x confession?” ‘Yes, for then we will both understand each other.” ‘** IT will tell you the truth.” **T believe that, Jack.” ‘*T don’t know anything about wko I am, where I was born, or my parents. ‘*There is one that does know, and some day I may force him to tell me, but not now, ‘“‘T only know that once I was called Nat. —that is as far buck as I can remember, but after that I was called John, or Jack, though I don’t believe it really is my true name. My adopted parents—for I was, for some reason, adopted by a man—lived on the Sound, ’way below New York, ‘*T remember I did the chores, went to: the village school, helped in the oystering and fishing season, and so became a good sailor for a boy. ‘‘In coming with the vessel to the city I learned much of New York, for 1 was thrown with a hard lot of men and boys. ‘‘ But I liked my home on the Sound until the son of the man who adopted me came there from boarding-school. ‘*He was the son of his first wife, and though deceiving his father into a belief that he was a good boy, he was the worst one I had ever met. “One night a burglar broke into the house in the absence of my adopted father, and hearing the noise, 1 went down-stairs with a pistol. ‘*T was shot at before I saw the burglar, and returning the fire I killed the burglar. “«To my horror, miss, I recognized my adopted brother, and I ran up to tell his. step-mother of the affair. ‘‘She told me to go tomy bed again and made no further comment then; but I heard her husband came soon after, and knowing that she had never liked me, for she had been twice married and had a son whom her hus- band would not allow to come to his home, yet, for some reason had adopted me, though of course I was little else than a ser- vant, ‘‘But, she hated me, and fearing that she might not tell the truth as it was, I crept out on the roof of the piazza, got near their window, and heard her tell how his son had been trying to rob him and I had killed him believing him to bea burglar. “To my surprise she did tell the truth, and then came his turn to show his feeling for me, as he deliberately plotted with her to shield his son. ; “It must never be known that his son was a thief, that he had sought to rob his own father of a large sum of money he knew was then in the house, and, as he was — always quarreling with me, and unkind to me, they would state that the son was correct- ing me in the library, for he was half a dozen years my senior, when I had deliberately shot him.” “ “What a plot to destroy you!” cried Olive indignantly. “Oh, they knew I would not harg for it, being too young, but be sent to prison, and if it saved the honor of the young man whom 1 had killed.” ** And what did you do?” ae In my my mind to fly. j ‘“‘T went to my room, got the little money I had saved up, crept out of the house and ran down to the shore. ‘There was a catboat there and in it I set : + sail out into the Sound, though there was a — storm coming up. . ‘*The storm struck me some miles out | from land and my boat was dismasted at daylight, and filled with water. — ie ode terror I naturally supposed I would be hanged, and solat once made up h ho See — > a Ni A - oo fe 4 7
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ee wraca” xs eget “. ‘i Ses eae eget 2s % pint s pa Pea New York Nat, the Gamin Detective, _ ~ But a ship was in sight andI wastaken| ‘I don’t exactly know what you mean, | The youth silently pointed to the chimney ron board just in time to save my life, Jack?” and as Olive said no more he remarked: “IT reported to the captain that I was a ‘* Well, miss, Iam shadowing crooks and | ‘I don't know why, but after having run young suilor on the coasting crafts that secretly reporting them,” was the whispered | those fellows off from their attack on Miser sailed the Sound, had no home, and had been | response. Max, I often kept an eye upon him. m & driven out tosea by the storm, so was will- ‘* Maybe it was because I liked compan ‘P : ing to ship with him as cabin-boy, and I CHAPTER VIL. on winter nights, and found the vault ecild,. ne - sailed under the name of Nat Chase, and THE MISER’S TREASURE. its dead folks no company; but 1 did come pea . § was also known to the sailors as New York THE two, the young girl Olive, whose life | here, climb down the chimney and often ie : | Nat. All seemed glad to have me aboard, | had been such a strange romance, and the | heard Miser Max talk to himself, for he used a oe and I really was happy; and as the ship was | youth Jack, or New York Natas he had | to say a great deal, 1 heard him add up his ie gg bound to Africa, I felt I never would be | been called by his sailor comrades, whose | accounts, count over his money and, time Ep i oe found by my enemies, career had becn one equally as remarkable, | and again, speak of Lawyer Brackette—I Oe i. oe ‘Well, miss, it proved to be a long voy- | looked at each other with eyes that seemed | think he said Adam Brackette, who had his a t age for me, and I went from port to port in | to wish to read the very soul of the one they | will in keeping, and yet he hinted that he 3 t foreign lands, serving on different vessels, | so intently regarded. did not know all that he was worth.” z because I did not want to come home. But, Had they heard the truth in all? “He told me that he was daily striving for i R at last | was wrecked, and our crew picked Had each one told truthfully the story of | money, that people called him an old miser, i. ie up by a steamer bound to New York, So I | his and her life? yet he was laying up riches with one sole Bo i Bik had to come hereagain. Was there nothing kept back? purpose in view. : “a , o ‘‘I was alarmed, for fear of being recog-| Could it be that such strange romance, ‘He said it was all for me—that I was his “4 _ on nized, but | had grown considerably, and, | such reality could be in their lives? sole heir; but has he money here?” i having saved up my money, I had enough to If such thoughts flashed through their | “Yes, and that is why the Masked Angels “hg He give me two years in a good boarding- | minds they did not reveal’ upon their faces | came here to rob him. Theycouldnot force = i” | school. the doubt and anxiety that must arise. | him to tell where it was, so killed him.” oN ie ‘I had Jearned much in knocking about, Upon the face of the boy there was only ‘‘My poor, poor grandfather!” and Olive ae and, studying hard, I readily acquired | trust in the one whom he had thus met and | looked sadly down into the face of the corpse, aot ce knowledge of a different kind, served so well, whose hands Jack had folded upon his a iw ‘**But, my money gave out, and I came Upon the face of the woman there appeared | breast. ar - oe back to New York to get work of some | to be an expression of joy in having met one *T know where his treasure is hidden,” a ie kind. so a‘lied to her by adversity, sorrow, suffer- ** You know, Jack?” oa : ie ‘It was no easy task for a boy without a | ing ond romance, “‘Edo.” rt oe les reference, or a friend, and I took to selling “Do you believe my story, miss?” ‘“ Where?” ee he papers and blacking boots at odd times. So asked the lad, when minutes had gone ‘*Up in a closet in that chimney.” , 4 ‘S “It was a hard life, and all that there was | by and not a word had the girl spoken. **Oh, Jack!” is ® of wickedness in the lowest sections of the Her answer revealed that his confession “Tt, is true, for there he kept it hidden, eS 1} «ity, I saw, yet I would not become bad my- | was believed, for she said: and no one would suspect it. @ cm self. ‘Don’t call me miss—call me Olive, as I | ‘‘Come, peer up the chimney, It looks ca , % ‘IT associated with the worst men and | will call you Jack or Nat, as you prefer.” like one flue—see—well, one is the chimney 2 Bi i, boys; I saw the vilest crimes committed, “‘ Jack let it be, for the present, until I | proper, the other a false flue, and, by raising a Pa he and got to know all the crooks by sight. find out more about myself, as I am bound | this iron the ladder is revealed—see!” a ‘ ie “But, one night I saw a murder commit- | todo, You believe me then?” He had taken the lamp and led Olive to \ a ted, and under circumstances that I knew I ‘*Of course Ido; why should I doubt you | the fireplace, explaining all as he spoke. would be heldas a witness, if not an accom- { any more than you do me?” ‘Now hold the lamp and I'll bring you plice; so I went into hiding. ‘*T could not doubt you, miss.” the treasure,” : “*T had seen this old rookery, and I came “There you go again,” He pushed up the iron shutter, drew him- here, for no ce was here then, and I soon “‘T meant Olive.” self up into the chimney, and, ina few min- et. learned that there was an iron ladder in yon- ** And I could not doubt you, Jack. - | utes, came down again. Sa der chimney, and which was hidden by a ‘“Then we are to be friends?” When he did so he had swung about him om lid, closing up one flue, Her answer was to hold out ber hand _| several canvas bags that seemed very heavy. ot “That is the way I came and left, and Ii ‘‘ But, what are you to do, Olive?” These he placed upon the table with the re- a ¢ made money asl! could, honestly, for] would **T don’t know. mark: a : not steal, no matter what wasthe temptation; “What shall I do?” ‘“There is Miser Max’s treasure, Olive, at there was something within me that forced ‘*We must talk it over,” and you are his heiress,” Aq me do right, pos protected me, : SFY Gigli: , ; Yipes re “One night as I was coming home, m “Your grandfather is dead.” ‘ a usual way, I heard voices, and, just as I did ‘* Alas, vos. I am all alone in the world CHAPTER, VITL he to-night, I came in time to do good, for that | now, for I do not know of a single relative I THE TWO DETECTIVES. ae a old man was being attacked by two robbers. | have.” ? Ir anything in the way of doubt bad lin- a ** They fled at my approach and heescaped | ** What did your grandfather intend you | gered in the mind of the young girl,astothe with his life, saving his money also, while I | should do?” honesty of the youth who had so fortunately “a retreated as I had come, he not knowing who ‘*T do not know; he told me that I was | and strangely crossed her path, his act in had saved him, or how I appeared and de- | the heiress to all of his riches, and that his bringing to her the treasure of the miser parted. will was so made, and placed in the hands of | could not but have removed it, er re I was glad enough to have saved him for I | an attorney, while his every effort had been! ‘* How long have you known of this treas- recalled that one day while swimming in the | to make moncy to leave me, ure being there, Jack?” she asked. Met ve Hudson, I was seized with a cramp, and “He told me all this in coming on from) ‘Oh, for a long time. Istumbledupon | Miser Max came to my rescue and saved my | New Orleans, for I left school and met him, | it when I hid in the chimney one day, for I life, as I have-told you, by his request, in Memphis. thought | heard some one entering the brown “Well, thus finding that the old house was} “‘*He wished me to spend the vacation | house.” to be occupied, and learning that the oc- | with him and then return to school in New ‘* You are an honest fellow indeed, Jack.” ‘cupant was none other than Miser Max, and | York, where 1 could be near him, for he told | ‘Because I don’t take that which is nob that he really owned the premises, I felt I | me he had a presentiment that his death was | mine? , ripe ; must find other quarters although he had al- | not far off, but when he died I would be his “Oh no; I would not steal, and I never ways been kind to me, heir, and to a very large fortune, told the secret of its being there to any of — ‘In the old cemetery in the rear I often “You know that I told you we had just | the boys, for the,only one I can vouch for is — used to go, and found therea vault—the | arrived, only to-day, and that is all that I) myself—and you, now.” AO, Sates Maxwell vault, This I opened and discovered | know,” ‘Thank you, Jack, for the trust in me. what to me would not be uncomfortable ‘* Did he tell you that he had money not “ But now, about this treasure?” _ ieee quarters. in the bank, or in his attorney’s hands?” “ Yes, and those, pointing significantly to — ‘I got a cot and some other things to} ‘No. the bodies, 4 ie aioe ty ee make me comfortable, and there made my| ‘Did he say who his attorney was?” The girl seemed at times to forget that she home or quarters; and after that I was| ‘No.” was in the presence of the dead, her position _ seen so much, goingand coming, that every-| ‘But his will was made out and in his | was such an odd one to her, Me Ps body gave me the name of Graveyard Jack.” | hands?” : She had seen much of wickedness, misery, _ . “And whatare you doing now for a liv-| “Yes.” crime and tragedy in her earlier years, an Labs ‘ing, Jack?” asked the girl with deep interest | ‘‘I know who his lawyer is.” _ {her school days had made her regard the — _ in thestrange youth. © Sapa ‘You do? Who is he?” past almost as a dream. Soha cat sha) ‘1 make my money in various ways, miss:| ‘His name is Brackette; that much I| But shehad not forgotten the experience « but in truth Iam an unknown shadower or | know.” . . her girlhood and took matters calmly. etective for the police.” | How do you know, Jack?” ' | Now, recalled to herself, her surroundings” aot kat * . ait Se Ls aie 1 ae real Sal eras pe vety Le! ate EPSP ee cage i Aa NE SSF he, ee Lah SON, ee ae os Hi? ah Od aaa 7B . ¥ 7, oF 3 Se SE > Peay '
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ite do you propose?” 2 ERT ye eS Nats ‘ and what was before her, she at once nerved herself to act, and said: ‘‘T suppose this treasure is mine, Jack?” ‘Of course it is, for you are Miser Max’s granddaughter. He had no other heirs; he made a will; this is his own home; he brought you here; you are in possession and you've got the boodle.” Olive laughed in spite of herself and said; ‘ Argued like a lawyer, Jack, and you have won the case for me. ‘“‘Now, what is to be done?” “You wantmy advice?” **Yes, indeed. Who else can I go to?” ‘* What do you wish to do?” ‘‘T have no one in the world to go to, no one to ask the protettion of.” ‘Oh, I'll protect you as far as that goes,” was the ready reply. ‘Well, what am I to do?” ‘It’s vacation time, so you can’t go back to school.” ** You don't wish to go and see the lawyer, Brackette?” ** Not yet.” “You are not afraid to live here, are you?” ‘*Not if I had you here as a protector, as a brother to me.” “ T’ll be your brother you bet; but I’ve got an idea.” ‘ ** Give it to me, Jack.” ‘* You are not of age, and if you go to the lawyer he'll finger all your money for you, sure, and it might stick to his fingers too tight to get it out of his hands again.” ‘*Very true; I have heard lawyers are slippery.” “Slippery? Well, I should remark! “If they were not they could not gain their cases; but you don't know just how your grandfather's will reads, and you have got cash enough here to take care of you.” ‘Yes, and 1 have more in my room, for grandpa was very generous with me and gave me considerable money,” **T heard you say, that you loved him ier ‘‘T did, indeed, for he saved me from burning to death, as-I told you, and at the risk of his own life. ‘‘Then he came for me after my father’s death and has cared for me so generoysly ever since—how could I help loving him even if he was not my real own grandfa- ther?” k “That’s so; but I heard you say you would avenge his death.” - Her eyes flashed and she answered quick- vey did vow to do so, and I will, for his murderers must be brought to justice for the horrible crime.” . “That is just my way of thinking, and Bee can do it, for 1 will help you—that is f you are willing to go pards with me.” * Indeed, Iam, Jack, for I trust you, and } T rely wholly upon you in my time of need, for Thave no one else,” gal right; that settles it; pals we will “Jack, I don’t like the word pals.” . Call it pards, then, or comrades.” “‘Then, comrades it will be. Now, what “Tf Tam known in this case I'll be put in prison just because they cannot find the _ real murderer, and my record as Graveyard Juck is a gainst me with the cops.” + 4¢Vog® Bae . “Now, instead of being a crook, as I told _ you, Tam a crook-chaser, and I have sent in lt Ae great deal of information to the chief, but I dare not do it openly or be bs in the matter either to him or to those Se a) f on,” ‘4 i j _ “I understand, Jack; but you have the mscic usness of knowing that you are do- iy yc cao a td prs Le SS ener, Se Se ee a —— “ Pe Saal eae pe FMR IE New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. and shadower with me, Olive, we can form a league of crook-catchers and take in the town,” said Jack, with great enthusiasm. ‘“T’ll do it, Jack, for then I can keep my oath to avenge the murder of that poor old man—yes, we will be felow ferrets in the good work, if you think I can be of real help to you. ” rep ih CHAPTER IX. THE COMPACT. Ourve held out her hand as she spoke, and that sealed the compact, of the two to be ferret-detective pards. The early training of the girl caused her to really like the work she would be called upon to do, as a shadower, when under other circumstances she would have shrunk from it with fear and aversion. She had seen much of the lowest order of life, and the Italian organ-grinder, through all his instructions to her in book learning, had instilled in her mind the duty of revenge against any one who had wronged her. There lay dead at her feet the one who had been all in the world to her, He had been ruthlessly murdered for his gold, and she, too, would have shared his fate but for Graveyard Jack’s timely coming to her res- cue. Must she allow those murderers to go unpunished, especially when the, boy’s pres- ence opened a way to bring them to justice and so avenge her grandfather's death? No! A strange destiny seemed to be shaping her life and she would be guided by t And so it was that she formed the com- pact with Graveyard Jack, as Nat was des- tined, apparently, to be called. ‘““Now what is to be done, Jack?’ she asked, having fully decided upon her course. ‘* You have your room here?” “Yes, where grandfather placed me, the same I had years ago.” ‘* You will have to get quarters elsewhere until the fuss blows over.” “Why?” “Well, neither you nor I can go and tell the chief that these dead bodies are here, so I will do so in the secret way I have been already doing.” “e es ” “T’ll simply state that Miser Max was attacked in his home by robbers, lost his life at their hands and one of the robbers was killed, while both bodies will be found in the old rookery.” ; ‘Yes, and grandfather's lawyer will come and give him aeent burial?” ‘« He will; and the heirs will be written to, and it will be found that you left your school in New Orleans and search will be made for you.” “But, they must not find me, Jack!” “Not until you wish to be found, Olive, and you will know when that is, ‘*Of course a watch will be set upon the house for a week or more, but the lawyer will find no one willing to stay here, especial- ly after this last tragedy in the old lodging. After awhile you can move back and make yourself comfortable, while I will also take up my quarters here and it will be the secret meeting-place of our league.” ““ What league, Jack?” j ‘Ah! I meant to tell you that T was form- ing a band of boys to serve under me, and to be known asthe Boy Police League. **T will have thirteen, including myself, and our duty will be to get onto all kinds of deviltry going on in the city, and report it every Sunday night, when I am to put the facts before the chief, but not let him know who ieee the information, or how it is ob- tained. ries ‘*Tt will be lots of funin fooling him, for of course he will have his detectives out try- ing to run us down, but that I am deter- mined heshall not do. and “Now you, Olive, shall be the Queen of |.‘ Who is she, Matt?” nh, Fe | pulled ‘the Boy Police League, and I'll be captains and you bet we will astonish the chief in the — | secret information we give him, as well as the crooks we shall makeit our business to TU Hi," ‘‘Now what do you say, Olive?” ‘Tam with you, heart and hand! Yes, | and my money, too, in the good work, for I can now see a sure way to capture those masked murderers.” ; “Oh, yes; we'll get onto them in time, ' sure.” | ‘Remember, all the treasure is at your | disposal, Jack.” |. ‘*Goslow with your treasure, Olive, for I | have several hundreds laid up, and each one | of the league is compelled to pay an en- | trance fee of fifty dollars, so that gives us plenty to work on as a starter, and it will be | time to call on you when the treasury goes | broke. ‘* You see, none of us are going to put up ‘at the Fifth Avenue or Hoffman House, or He in carriages, so our expenses will be ight.” or Yes, but you will need money to work with, and when you do, call on me as one of the band.” ‘The queen of our outfit, you mean. [ will do so, if we have to, But now, where are your traps?” “T have the checks for my trunks, and grandpa inteaded having them sent up to- morrow.” ‘‘Good! I am glad they are not here, for they would be hard to hide from the keen eyes of the ferrets and cops. ‘‘T know a place you can be safe in, and the lady will take good care of you, for I er little children out of the Hudson ae day when they were upset in a row- | boat. ‘‘She is not rich, but owns her little home and you will be comfortable with her, | I promise you.” | ‘TJ have no doubt of that Jack; but, I~ have here only a sachel, in my room, and I will make it appear as though I had not — been there, while these things brought by ' poor grandpa for our supper, had better re- ! main just where he dropped them.” | Yes, and yet you must take your treas- ure with ‘you, for the place might be oc- ‘cupied, you know, and I will carry it for ou.” The two then set to work to destroy all traces of Olive having come home with her grandfather, the treasure was wrapped up and Nat was to carry it. The two bodies | were left as they had fallen, the impression — ' being given that the miser had killed the man who lay near him. . New York Nat made a search of the mask- ed man and the miser’s bodies, and what he found he wrapped in a handkerchief and gave to Olive to place in her sachel. : Then he took up the sachel and bundle of ' treasure and left the rooms, while Olive dropped upon ber knees by the side of the body of her grandfather and pressed her — | lips in farewell upon the cold forehead. “Tam ready, Jack,” she said with quiver- ing voice, and the two, leaving the lamp burning, departed from the old mansion, the youth leading the way through the dark- ness, CHAPTER X. - SECRET INFORMATION. Tue chief of the Secret Service Bureau of the great city of New York, a position de- | manding as much skill, ability and pluck aa es House, iy cs! and was busily engaged in looking over the =~ when an at- — tendant bro:ght in the information thata. \ | to command an army in the Seld, set alone ‘in his private office the morning of the double tragedy in the old Haunted morning reports of his office, lady wished to see him, é Eta ong Rata F ; ‘tr. 4
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ER TO ee eee 4 ¥ . ; Diviene! Srey Se bl is ee ie: AER PROM so ne ee “*T do not know her, sir, but she has Y white hair and seems very feeble.” ‘* Show her in.” A moment after a lady in mourning enter- ed the room and just partly removed her vail as she bowed to the chief, who said politely: ** Be seated, madam, and tell me how I can serve you?” bi ** I know you are most busy, sir, and yet ee here is something you should know, as I am é informed by the one who gave it to me.” ‘* And who gave it to you, madam?” said the chief, taking the sealed envelope handed ' to him, and which bore his name and ad- i) ae dress, 4 “That I do not know, sir, but a youth oe it to me and said that he wished me to o a good act—that is to bring you this letter, ; and before I could ask him more he was one in the crowd. I felt that it was my : _ duty to come to you, sir.” i ‘*You did right, madam,” and the chicf a 4 had already broken the seal, which he was ‘| ° gazing at curiously. a oa It was of black wax and the imprint upon n it was a most peculiar one, a humun skull j ; held in a hand of flesh, while beneath it was a ___. skeleton hand clasping one of flesh and blood. a ‘* Ha! I have seen this strange seal before!” Re and the chief hastily glanced over the letter, aa) it ‘which was written in a bold hand as follows: ‘*A murder was committed in the old rookery on ——th street last night, known as Miser Max’s Mansion and the Haunted House. ** Robbers attempted to rob the miser, but he resisted and was killed. One of the -* robbers, in the attack also lost his life. “Their bodies now lie in the old mansion, awaiting your action, aps: ‘Tae UNKNOWN SHADOWER,” “Do you know the contents of this letter, madam?” ‘Indeed, sir, Ido not.” | We ** You never saw the one who gave it to you before to-day?” ' eNO; six.” ; ** Would you know him if you saw him again?” **T think so, sir.” ** Where do you live?” “‘Number 13 West —— street, sir.” _ * Thank you, madam,” and the visitor took her departure, But, hardly had the door closed upon her when the chief touched one of a number of - buttons on the desk before him. A man in civilian’s dress at once appeared through a side door, and the chief said quickly: Detective Sloan, an old lady in black, _ with white hair and walking feebly, just left here, Shadow her and let me know with what result.” - Detective Lucas Sloan saluted and at once left the chief's quarters, the latter touching his bell for his attendant. _**Matt, send Captain Williamson to me.” ‘The captain, a handsome man with mili- ry bearing, came in after a short delay and the chief handed him the secret letter he had received. ey: “Ah! this is surprising information, sir; but from whom?” { «That is what Icannot tell you.,. You see e stamp on the seal?” y ‘* Yes, sir, a strange one, certainly.” ‘Yes, and the signature is simply, as — SS nae = eel «et “a ou see: i ; ‘The Unknown Shadower,’” | at gives you no clue; sir,” ot in the least as to who my infor- -mant is, but I wish to tell you that this is by means the first information I have received om this same mysterious source," Mie Ss _ “Indeed, sir!” — Nii dea Tk Buse Cl ee! have had a score of just such cations. ar tm ee Wew York Nat, the Gamin Detective, “But of any value, sir?” **So much, indeed, that not once has my information been false. I have not spoken of it to any one, for I had hoped to entrap my informant, but in vain. ‘‘Each time the secret information has come in a most mysterious manner. Once it came by registered letter; again I found it on the floor, evidently shoved under the door of my private office, while I once got an im- portant message by Express. ‘*A tramp brought me a letter on another occasion; then an old negro man; again a young girl, and this last was brought to me by an aged lady in mourning ‘*‘T have placed Sloan upon her track, so may discover something of my mysterious informant, though 1 half believe she told the truth about how she got it.” “It is certainly most mysterious, sir; but in each case you say that the informa- tion has been of value?” ‘‘Most valuable indeed, for when you raided the gold counterfeiters, it was through information I gave you, which I got from The Unknown Shadower, and you tracked the murderer Cox, by the same means, while others have been caught through my giving clues, and each time The Unknown Shadow- er has been the one to give me the pointers, “T tell you, Captain Williamson, this secret information I receive is most mysteri- ous; but now go to ‘that old rookery and see if this news is not correct.” CHAPTER XI. ANOTHER LETTER FROM ‘‘'THE UNKNOWN SHADOWER.” CAPTAIN WILLIAMSON found it as the mys- terious communication had stated: there were two dead men lying in the old mansion, one Miser Max; tne other was pied oo by the police as one of the worst crooks in the city. They were glad that this ruffian had met his death, for he at least was off their hands; but who had been his pals, where were they, nie many, and had they gotten the miser’s gold? These questions the most cunning of the regulars could not answer. The old residence revealed only that Miser Max made his home there, sleeping in one room, cooking and eating in another, as far aS appearances went. The house was only partly furnished, much of its furniture having been stolen, or sold years before, and what there was show- ed the touches of time and was in bad con- dition, The wardrobe of the old man was found to be rather extensive, consisting of several suits of good clothing, shoes and hats and other articles but little worn. He was known to have done his own werk, except his laundrying, which was done by a Chinaman near. He paid cash for his groceries, and all else he bought, and was supposed to have laid u cone sum of money, which he kept near 1m, ’ It came out that he had bought land in different parts of the city, sold it at a good profit, and always had ready. cash with which he entered into only the safest specu- lations. : \ The mansion and its surrounding acres be- longed to him, There was no morigage-up- on it, the taxes were paid up in full, and all other valuable property he held also was free of debt. oie This much was found out from the lawyer, Brackette, who had the miser’s will in his possession, with other documents left in his charge, : The story came out that Miser Max had an heir, a granddaughter, then at boarding- school in New Orleans, and Lawyer Brack- | ette went there after her but only to find | | that she had left at the close of the term, she | said, to join her grandfather North, = = | | i Search was at once made for the missing ing the identity of bis un P % ef firme + | ar : ae ‘ Sih het reo al pe heiress, by both the lawyer and the chief of the Secret Service; but in vain; not the slight- est clue could be found to her whereabouts since she had left New Orleans forthe North. So here wag another mystery in connection with the murder of Miser Max, and the police, after careful consideration, took to the theory that those who had killed the grandfather had also spirited away the girl, to hold for future schemes for getting gold; or perhaps had done away with her to hide their capital crime. No happening in the great metropolis is more than a nine days’ wonder, and so, after a couple of weeks of giving startling head- lines and sensation reporis, the papers were glad to drop the mystery, which their ferret- like reporters, cunning and skillful as so many of them are, could not fathom, So Miser Max, his tragic death, the miss- ing heiress and the unclaimed fortune soon dropped out of the public mind, But such was not the case with the chief, his detectives and the police. They were each and all of them anxious to solve the mystery, and were glad to have the papers let up on the affair so as to lull all suspicion. Miser Max had been buried decently in Greenwood, Lawyer Brackette paying all expenses, The dead burglar had been given a pine box and a resting-place in Potter's Field, among those who had been kindred spirits in his life of evil. The old mansion, doubly haunted since the latest tragedy beneath its roof, had been watched by a squad of police for awhile. Then it was locked and shut up securely, and the key given up to Lawyer Brackette, who had inserted in the Herald a ‘‘ Per- sonal,” offering a large reward for the find- ing of Olive Maxwell the missing heiress. The chief, however, kept a detective se-' cretly shadowing the old house for many days, trying in vain to get a clue to some one who might go there, for he had an idea that his unknown informant of the murder there, might be in some way connected with the place or the men who committed the murder. But, as time passed and no one was seen to enter the grounds, the Headquarters shad) ower was withdrawn. Strange to say, that very day came a mes-" senger-boy with a letter for the chief. It bore the same seal of black, had the same peculiar stamp and read as follows: “The missing heiress will turn up in. good time to claim the fortune left her by | Miser Max, ‘‘Meanwhile, give Lawyer Brackette a hint that the property does not belong to him, and not to monkey with what was left to another, or he may get into trouble, ‘*Expect further information, when the time comes to give it, from — ‘Tne UNKNOWN SHADOWER,” “ Boy, where did you get this letter?’ de- ;Manded the chief in a tone that startled the young messenger. ** At the office, sir.” ‘* Who gave it to you?” ‘A young T was to give it only into your hands,” “Do you know her?” ‘*No, sir.” : ** Ever seen her before?” ‘No, sir.” A button was touched, a detective ap- peared, and the chief ordered: ‘Go to the Broadway office with this boy, find out if he tells the truth, and see if you can discover any trace of the one who gave him thisletter to bring tome.” tua oo SOHAPTER. XII. = > hee vf ther, Gr ta are a ae fe, val
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ent, one who sent him strange communica- tions there was no accounting for. If they had come from his own men, why had not the informant appeared to draw the rewards which in several cases awaited him? The news he received was of all kinds, and of deeds done in every part of the city, showing that the unknown detective was most thoroughly posted as regarded the haunts of the crooks, and of their inove- ments. Now came a hint that the heiress to the Haunted House would appear in good time, and that it would be well to keep an eye aipon the attorney who had her fortune in his control. The chief knew the lawyer as one who stood well in the city, was a member of a church, and upon whom no suspicion of wrong-doing had ever fallen, But appearances, he had found in his eventful career, were most deceiving; so he decided that he would at least make a call upon Adam Brackette, Esq., and have a talk with him, as now was his duty, The detective sent to shadow the old lady who had brought the news of the murder of the miser, had returned with the information that she was just who she bad represented herself to be, and the chief felt certain that she had received the letter, as she had stated. cae an Nears, aks iad ? “ a So eteggennseeiers ial * 7 ayer ier } 2 Be be i ago us a ee ; ie iy oe art = a eM ca Breast New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. ‘Full powers, sir, to act as though the property was my own.” ‘*Remarkable powers, sir, indeed. But, 1 have a clue—just what, I cannot now tell you; but I hope that before very long I can find you the missing girl, alive and well.” ‘Indeed, sir! I shall be delighted!” re- plied the lawyer, and yet the chief, who | | after dark, then be on hand, read the human face as an open book, deter- mined that, contrary to what the attorney asserted, the man was keenly disappointed, But, the officer did not tell him so, and continued. ‘Of course a property left as this has been, in your keeping, attracts considerable drug those on board, so that there will beT | opposition to the boarders, who will go out | to the yacht asa party of ladies and gentle- , men, ' The crook who is the spy is a French- | man who answers to the name of Pierre, and | is boatswain. ‘*Make no move to protect the yacht until “Tig UNKNOWN SHADOWER.” ‘““P.§,. The owner's wife and a lady | friend have sent their trunks on board, and they have valuable jewels in them.” ‘* Well, captain, what have you to say to attention, and 1 need hardly tell you that | that?” asked the chief. there are those who are only too anxious to | get it out of your keeping, so, ina friendly way, Mr. Brackette, I would advise you to ive them no hold upon you. Give no in- ormation, make no concessions.” ** Your words mean more, sir, than you care to explain,” said the lawyer, in a tone of concern. “T am in a position to hear much, sir, yet not free to explain, so I simply give you a hint that you have foes who will try to give ! you trouble, should the heiress appear sud- denly, and you not be prepared to answer fully to the confidence bestowed on you by Miser Max. If | get further information, The officer sent back with the messen- | I will call again.” peer returned to say that a young lady ad brought the letter in, asked for a trusty boy and had paid the fee and departed. No one there knew her, or could tell where she had gone, and, as she did not re- _ turn to see if there was any response, there was no clue to her identity. as it did.” ; | board, and desires to visit him.” **T will now go and see the lawyer,” And the chief walked back to his office ‘* A good idea, captain.” id decided the bewildered chief. — musing: “The boatswain can be lured into the rN Lawyer Brackette was a shrewd man. He wore a beard but had shaved his mus- tache off—a style that gives one a sly or half- sinister expression. He was said to be a good man; he gave of his carnings to charity; he had several Chinese in the Sunday-school class he taught; he was respected and admired by his fellow church members, for his probity and appar- ent goodness of heart. ‘The chief was ushered into his inner | The chief departed, leaving the man-of- law completely mystified and in a frame of | ing?” mind that was not enviable, for he muttered to himself: ‘‘T have spies upon my movements, that ‘*That man is a hypocrite, He is tricky; he plots and plans for self, alone. But the hint I gave him will cause him to go slow; that it frightened him was evident to me.” Upon returning to his office the chief saw a letter upon his desk, sealed as were all the mysterious communications he had re- ceived, Instantly he rung for his attendant, and asked who had brought it, The attendant did not know; he had gone ‘** You believe it, sir?” ‘‘Why not? My unknown detective has never yet put me on a false scent—never failed to tell the truth!” ‘You have not the slightest clue to his identity?” ** No more than have you.” “Tt is remarkable, sir. “Tt bears the same black seal as the notice of Miser Max having been murdered,” ‘* Tt does, and is on the same paper and is | in the same handwriting.” ‘‘The paper and writing may be a clue, sir,” ‘“The paper is of the plainest kind, with no water lines, and the writing, as you see, is in a disguised hand.” ‘True, sir; but you will heed the warn- **Of course! So takeit in hand.” *‘] will board after dark, sir, as a party is certain, so it is lucky the warning came pretending to believe that the owner is on | cabin and captured, and the crew can be sent | back in my boat, leaving my men on board.” | «© That will catch the gang, especially if | you can force the Frenchman to confess,” ‘Yes, sir.” | ‘Then go and arrange your plan, but | work with the greatest caution, Williamson, | taking only picked men, for I have reason to believe that we have aspy in our own camp.” ‘* A spy here, sir?” * Yes; for this letter I found on my desk, - office, and at once spoke of the reason for his | out to lunch for a few minutes and had seen | and no one knows how it got there.” m3 calling. : no one enter the office. ‘That does look suspicious, sir.” * Of course it is none of my affair, Mr, And no one else could tell how the letter; ‘‘ It does; so set a trap to catch the spy, ios Brackette, but I am anxious to find the | had come upon the chief’s private desk! | for he must be found out at all hazards ” 2 murderer of Miser Max, and also his miss- ‘By the heavens above, but I believe 1} Captain Williamson shook his head like one See: ing heir, so would like what information | myself am shadowed,” the chief exclaimed ; in a quandary, and replied: ye you care to give me regarding your dead | aloud, and, now doubly mystified, he turned “Yes, sir, for this is something I cannot ie’ client, his wealth and the heiress, for a | to the new letter and broke the black seal. understand, when your own quarters aré ae word often is a clue, you know.” shadowed,” and the captain went to pick ba ‘Very true, sir, very true. My late client was a singularly close-mouthed man; had little to say about himself, though you doubtless know that he it was, who, many years ago, shot his daughter when she was mec ep ton i in man’s attire one night, mis- takin her for a burglar?” : oT 1 ; the signature of ‘ The Unknown Shadower. ; ‘ o Vy £4 ed, Nha “ee Mien) Wee 4 DE , Lait ites Gag eee ty Se a > Seay tad ee ee ERs ee: se ans ie ‘S
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Dlease do not stay long, for Mr. Rochelle’s orders were that no one was to be allowed aboard.” The captain and the pretended ladies fol- lowed the boatswain into the cabin, and sud- denly he looked squarely into the face of a revolver and heard the words: ** You are my prisoner, sir.” With an oath the man started to run from the cabin, but he was seized by the ladies and in an instant he was handcuffed and gagged. ‘** Now order the crew here,” was the cap- tain’s order, and throwing off their feminine garb the officers obeyed and the surprised crew learned that there was a plot to rob the yacht and they must submit to being held prisoners until the robbers were secured. Then they told how the boatswain had promised to treat them to some wine, after ‘all got quiet, and said that he had the bottles already hidden away. ‘‘That wine is drugged,” sternly said the captain, and with ‘‘dummies” in the boat, for fear the robbers might then be watching, it pulled away from the yacht, to await off on the river a recall Be | ‘““The boatswain told me, sir, to set at nine o’clock a signal that the owner was ‘ashore, and it woul! prevent any friends from coming off,” said one of the crew. ** Set it,” was the laconic response of the - Captain. ** And you will find that the boatswain’s friends will come off, and those are the ones ‘we wish to welcome.” The signal lantern was set, the police officers took their places, and all was ready for the reception of the boatswain’s guests, CHAPTER XIV. LIKE RATS IN A TRAP. Ir was just after midnight when a boat was seen coming off from the shore and heading for the yacht. There appeared to be three men in it be- ' gides the two oarsmen, and as it came nearer a@ voice called out: ** Yacht Ideal O, K.” **O, K!” came the answer, The next instant the boat ran alongside and a man standing forward and mufiled up called out in a quick, low tone: ‘*Get down below all of you until that police boat goes by.” Those thus addressed did not, from their rapid movements, seem to like the name of a police boat, for, without waiting to see where it was they fairly tumbled down the steerage hatch, while the muffled form made their boat secure, _ “Say, we've got to go quiet, so one of you come up at a time, and walk about like the crew, for there has been a boat out here to-night that looks suspicious, ‘ The words were whispered down into the hold, and spoken with a foreign accent, and a voice answered: “ All right, cully; and we'll dance to it, asleep?” “Yes; now you come out and walk right to the cabin!’ A man came out; a sign of warning from the muffled form kept him quiet and he went off and entered the cabin. _ “Now, mate,” and a second man was called out and directed to the cabin. Thus the others were called until the five river pirates were caught like rats in a trap, for each one, on his descent into the cabin, ou play ther music s the salt water gang had been seized on each’ side by powerful men whose grip on his throat and arms he could not throw off, and in an instant found vie himself manacled and gagged. ‘Set the signal, my man, for’ Mr. Ro- chelle to come off, for he has been notified and will understand it,” ordered Captain ~ ‘Williamson, coming out of the cabin and uA addressing one of his officers, the man who _ had impersonated the French boatswain, a tion had been to escape by turning State’s The signal brought also the captain's boat, which had been in waiting, as well as that of the handsome young yachtsman, Ro- chelle, who was accompanied by the Secret Service chief. ‘* All right, captain?” asked the chief as he stepped on deck, “ Yes, sir, without a life lost.” ‘* How on earth did you discover the plot to rob me?” asked Mr. Rochelle. “The plot was made known to me by one I do not know, sir, and, being thus warned, to do the work was easy.” ‘*And that man Pierre, my boatswain, was the traitor?” ‘* Yes, sir.” ‘*T will leave him in your hands, chief; but I wish to ask your men to divide this check among them.’ “Thank you; but I must sa Rochelle, for they have simply done their duty. Who is the one that gave the warn- ing I cannot tell you.” ‘Then give him the check.” ‘*T could not, sir, if I would, for, as 1 say, I do not know who he is.” ‘‘Not know who your informant of the plot to rob me was? Why, that is remarka- ble.”’ “Just that, Mr. Rochelle; it is remarka- ble. But this confession I must ask you to receive in confidence, for if it becomes known how { received the information, it might get some one into trouble. Some day I hope to be able to inform you, sir.” ‘I sincerely hope you may,” and the young yachtsman continued in a low tone: ‘*Do you know that I have more aboard my yacht than you imagine, for my partner, an Englishman, now at home, wished me to bring him over a lot of gold. nuggets which he himself had mined, and their value is all of fifty thousand dollars, while I have in the cabin safe some thousands in money, and also jewelry belonging to my wife, of consid- erable value, not to speak of silver-plate and other things, “Yes, sit, your mysterious informant has saved me a small fortune, and whenever you name him to me, he shall be paid a most liberal reward,” “He deserves it, sir, and I would give a liberal reward to know who he is,” bluntly declared the chief, Leaving several of his men on board as a guard, until the crew returnedin the morn: ing, the chief then departed, Williamson taking his prisoner to jail, which place they had the certainty of leaving, to. go to States Prison for along term -of years, and which caused the French boatman to say: ‘* Well, monsieur, zere vas nopody’ kilt, so you vill not have ze plasair of hanging me up wiz a rope.” **Don’t be so sure of that, Frenchy, for I have an idea you area very bad man, and we will have to look up your past record,” as- sured Captain Williamson, and the French- man, muttering an imprecation, remained silent, and was quite unnerved when the iron bars closed behind him, while the cap- tain, as he saw them distinctly in the bright glare of the station, remarked: ‘“They are as bad a lot of sinners as we ever bagged together, and if lam not mis- taken, we can find other charges against them which will give them a long sojourn up the river, or a picnic or the gallows,” CHAPTER XyV. A FAIR VISITOR, Tue Ideal sailed on time the next day, the testimony of the officers being sufficient against the River Pirates, who were very quickly found guilty of their crime and sent ‘up the river” for safe keeping. That each and every one of them had sus- pected the Frenchman of being the traitor, all belyeved until they found him incarcerated with them in the prison, though his inclina- nc, Mr. New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. Evidence, only, the chief told him his services _ were not needed in that way as there was evidence enough to convict him with his brother pals. The more he pondered over who his strange informant was the more the chief was be- wildered and in vain sought a clue, He had made it his business to go to the court room and look into the face of every. individual there and try and thus pick out the one whom he suspected was his ‘ Un- known Shadower;’ but in vain the search; not once did he find a face that he believed was the one he sought, A conscientious man, he’ did not like the idea of taking to himself the praise bestowed by the papers, in the instances when he had acted only under secret information, But, then, he was too shrewd aman to let it be known that his information came from some quarter he knew not where, for that might destroy his secret source of information and perhaps cause the sender of the secret letters to be suspected and put to death. The more he thought over the subject. the more he felt convinced that the writer of the mysterious communications was none other then one of the gang of crooks, one less hardened in conscience than the others, or who acted in the cases from some hope of future personal gain. Captain Williamson was alone let into his secret, of his unknown correspondent, but the chief had placed a man on watch in his own quarters to note down every one who entered his private room, when he was pre- sent or absent, with strict orders that, did he discover any one, save his personal attendant, Solty so while be was out, to at once arrest im, Thus had the chief set a spy upon his own people, and that he might make no mis- take, he had made Matt, his assistant, a Spy upon one whom he had employed in the service of spying. “T must get at who this Unknown Shad- ower is, for as long as I do. not it convinces me that there is one better than Tand my shadowers are at our own game,” muttered the chief as he returned from lunch the day after the crooks, known as the River Pirates, were sentenced, ‘SA lady waiting to sce you, sir,” an- nounced Matt, as the chief entered. It flashed across the chief’s mind that he was to receive another communication from the Unknown Shadower, and entering his private room he ¢aid shortly: ‘* Show her in, Matt.” ° The one who entered was a young girl, and a beautiful one at that. She was stylishly dressed and bowed in the easy way of one used to refined society, ‘Pardon my troubling you, sir, but I deem it my duty to place in your bands this sealed letter, which fell into my hands by accident,” she said, very musical, The chief knew a beautiful woman when so in his, courteous way he bade his fair visitor be seated, took the letter and gave a black seal with its weird crest! unless you care to know how I got pos- session of the letter,” said the young girl, — ‘*T should very much like to know, Miss— Miss—” Weir ter She handed her card to the chief and he read thereon: ; “Miss Karurine Kenv, §— ** No, 101 —— Avenue.” know our father quite well.” She te wed in silence and he continued: fore, and I would like very much to k how this one came into your possession _ “T was down-town shopping, sir, and her voice was _ he saw one, and appreciated beauty as well, — slight start as he recognized the writing and — ‘There is no need of my. remaining, sir, ‘Tam glad to meet you, Miss Kent, for I ae ‘‘T have received like communications be- _
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10 and diamond thief. yom i eg “of x ay. entering a cab to drive home I found that letter upon the seat, ‘“T recognized your name and important position, so decided when I neared home to return and give it to you myself, and not trust it to the cabman!” ‘‘A wise thought, Miss Kent, and I am glad that you brought it, but I suppose that whoever had the cab before you did left it there, so I will, with your permis- sion, send for the cabman, and ask him.” ‘But I dismissed that cabman, sir, upon reaching home, and drove here in another vehicle.” ‘‘ Ah! thatis bad; but, do you think you would know the cabman again?” ‘Yes, sir, and his stand is on Union Square, so, if it is of so much importance to you [ can drive there and look him up, in fact, find him for you.” ‘But 1 would be giving you so much trouble, Miss Kent.” “Not when I could be doing a service, for I think I discover that it is a matter of importance to you.” “Let me explain, Miss Kent. I have re- ceived a number of these letters, and always in a most mysterious manner. They have in each instance been important, and I am anxious to discover the writer, for they all are anonymous. ‘‘ With this explanation if you will kindly try and find that hackman for me, I shall be most grateful indeed.” Miss Kent rose, and bowing was escorted to the door by the chief, who glanced out of window and saw her drive away ina cab, Then he returned to his desk and sitting down opened the letter which had been brought to him, again in the usual mys- terious manner. CHAPTER XVI. DUPED. © Tue chief opened the letter of the Un- known Shadower with the firm belief that he was again to hear some important in- formation, be given some clue to deviltry either done or anticipated. He was not wrong in his expectations, for the following was what he read: hie ‘*A gentleman returning to Boston to- night by the Sound steamer of the Fall River line will carry with him a large lot of dia- monds purchased in New York from a lady in reduced circumstances and forced to sell. ‘‘ His name is Adam Curtis, a broker of Boston, and he is stopping at the Everett House. ‘*A gentleman will call upon him there with a letter from his father, the senior -. member of his firm in Boston, telling him that, feeling anxious for his safety, he has sent the bearer, a,detective, to accompany him and protect him vntil his return to Boston. “That detective is a New York crook He intends to drug, erhaps kill, and rob the Boston man on the t. _ Tne Unknown SHapower.” _ The chief sprung to his feet, with a show _of excitement not natural to him, and paced up and down his room several times. “In Heaven’s name how does this un. _ known get his information, I should like to know? _ ‘He not only shows how crooks can be caught but gives warning in time to prevent the crime from being committed. —**It is now after two o’clock and there is no time to lose, for once more shall I take heed to this anonymous warning.” Touching a button a detective appeared. _.. “Gordon, I have a delicate piece of work You are to take a pard for you tu do, along, though you are not to appear to know eachother” Gites meee A Pe * Yes, chief,” Z “You are to go to-night on the Fall River } a is) boat, and find out if a Mr. Adam Curtis of Boston has registered for a room,” AVes; sir “If so, get the state-room on each side of his, if you have to show your badge of authority to do so, and watch for the occu- pants of the room between yours and your companion’s,”’ **T understand, sir.”’ ‘*One of these men is ‘a diamond merchant, the other a diamond thief. The latter in- tends to do the other in some way and rob him.” ‘* Yes, chief.” ‘‘Of course there is no need of telling such a good man as you are just what you are to do.” “T'll get Kane to go with me, sir, and we'll talk it over, so as to be ready to save the merchant and nab the thief. ‘*Do you know what kind of appearing man Mr, Curtis is, sir?” “‘T do rot; but, watch for him when he gets the key to his stateroom.” Detective Gordon bowed and _ retired, leaving the chief once more to his medita- tions. For some time he sat in silence, then glanced at his watch and muttered: ‘*T guess the cabman was not on the stand.” But night came, and Miss Kent did not re- turn so, as he was going up home to his din- ner he concluded to stop at her home and save her the trouble of returning to his quar- ters, On the way he stopped at the Everett House and asked to see Mr. Adam Curtis of Boston. ‘‘Mr Curtis left for Boston this afternoon, sir,”’ the clerk informed him. se ay train?” ‘*No, sir; by the Fall River Line.” ‘‘Tam sorry not to have seen him. Was he alone?” ‘*A friend from Boston joined him here, air, and they left together.” The chief smiled grimly, for so far the secret information had proven correct! Ordering his driver stop at the number of Mr. Kent, he met that gentleman just going into his own door, ‘‘Ah, chief, glad to see you. though nothing wrong I hope?” ‘No, sir; only I wished to see your daugh- ter for a moment, as she was so kind as to bring me an important piece of information this afternoon,” “My daughter, sir?” ‘* Yes, sir, Miss Kathrine Kent.” ‘*My dear chief you are laboring under a reat mistake, for my daughter sailed for jurope with her mother some weeks ago.” The chief looked dazed, but recovering himself he told Mr. Kent how an important letter had been brought to his office by a beautiful young girl, and he handed the card she had given him. «It is Kathrine’s card, for I remember the peculiar style of the lettering; but you have been duped, chief, that is certain.” Come in, that same thing; but laughing it off, and ex- laining that he had wished to save Miss Kent from coming again to the office, he took his Jeave.’ He felt in no laughing mood, however, and mused as he drove on home regarding the clever girl who had duped him, “Well, I have made this discovery at least, and that, is that the one who brought this last letter did not have any story totell of its having been given herand all that, but stated that she found it in a cab, and the fact that she gave Miss Kent’s card shows that she must have known the contents of the envel- e, te Her looks betrayed to me that my secret informant is in a higher walk in life than I expected to find him or Jer, for now I am at a loss to know which it is even.” . / The chief had already made up his mind. New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. a a ee Se eee =) CHAPTER XVII. THE DIAMOND THIEF. DETECTIVE GoRDON and his companiom were at the boat in ample time. They found that Mr. Curtis of Boston had gotten one of the best state-rooms and a friend had registered to occupy it with him. The state-rooms on each side had been secured by the detectives, and they waited about until they saw Mr. Curtis and his, ** friend,” Mr. Curtis was a fine-looking, solid-look- ing man of forty, while his state-room com- panion was a sleek-faced, clerical-looking: person of athletic build and nervous manner. They enjoyed the scenery of the East River together, and later went down to din- ner, and the diamond-merchant ordered & very substantial meal with wine, but drank it alone, for his companion was heard to say, only after the quart bottle was opened: “You will have to drink it alone, for I never touch intoxicating beverages of any “Well said. sir,” remarked a Prohibition- ist sitting near, and he smiled benignly until Mr. Curtis said sharply: ‘Mind your own business, sir, and do not. interfere with mine.” The Prohibitionist drew back within him- self like a turtle and was silent, and Gordon, who was at the same table, muttered: “That fellow isthe diamond-thief's pal. I am glad that I discovered it, though I might have known he was not alone in his work,” After a cigar on deck—and the ‘‘ friend ” did not smoke either, in fact had no bad habits—Mr. Curtis went to his state-room. ‘T will follow youin a few minutes,” said his companion, and Kane having been put onto the two pale’ presence by Detective Gordon, the three officers saw the ‘‘ friend” and the ‘‘ Prohibitionist ” talk earnestly to- gether for a few minutes. Then the companion of the Boston mer- chant followed him to his state-room and the pal went to his quarters which were just op- osite, 2 The two detectives at once sought their state-rooms and prepared to act, and they were anxious not to be too late and thus cause harm to befall Mr, Curtis, for they felt that the two crooks were capable of any crime. Each detective had already bored a small] gimlet-hole through the partitions of their rooms into that of Mr. Curtis, and having no light in theirs they could not be detected. They could see but very indistinctly, and et, by placing their ears against the gimlet- oles, they could hear fairly well all that was said by the two men, and they, heard one say: ‘«T don’t mind taking anightcap with you now, Mr. Curtis, but I never drink in _pub- lic, and on duty, though now there is no danger, as I am sure, if you were shadowed, sceing me with you has thwarted an; plan that might have been made up to rob ou,” ‘Bah! there was no danger whatever, save in my father’s fears, dear old man; but then Iam glad to have your company, so what will you drink?’ \ “ Anything, sir.” dered and brought. The two men drank it together, and De- tective Gordon, with his eye on the gimlet- hole, saw the comrade of Mr. Curtis drop: something into the last glass that was pour- ed out for him to drink. ‘‘ He is too clever to have put a he slipped out of his state-room and calling | state-room of the other pal. : Re. jae “Then another bottle it shall be, for we_ iat K: can sleep it off,” and touching the button for , a steward, a bottle of champagne was or- — fataldrug —it was a morphine pellet,” muttered Gor- don, and when the two men had retired = upon Detective Kane the two went tothe
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rere s., vr ee iets Pw r-. <5 See at ne ie ene te nbn oe ee - = 4 “a was aroused from his stupor, and then only after considerable difficulty, “‘T believe he would have died if not arous- ed at the time you found him, sir,” said the doctor, and having given his patient some medicine to help him, he left him with the detective who explained to him all that had - occurred. “How on earth did you learn of the plot to rob me?” asked Mr.Curtis when at last he was able to converse. “‘T do not know, sir; but the chief heard of it in some way and sent us to’entrap the men, ** You will go on to Boston to-day, sir, and \ velope and read; ‘‘Tf Mr. Adam Curtis wishes to know who the ally of the diamond thieves is, he will find him in one named Reuben Ashley, whoever and whereever he may be, for that is the right man. ‘ “Tae UNKNOWN SHADOWER.” The chief quickly folded the letter, heard the reports of the various men regarding their inabilty to find the messenger, and then asked: ‘*Mr, Curtis, do you know a man by the name of Reuben pe to ) “Oh, yes, sir; he is our confidential clerk.” all that is bad, saying that you live ina graveyard and rob people to get money,” ‘It’s a lie! a cruel Tie, Mrs, Herbert, for I would not rob any one of a cent!” fircely pro- tested the youth, while Olive responded: ‘«‘ T know it is false, Mrs. Herbert, for Jack would not be guilty of a crime.” ‘Bless your sweet soul do you believe I think that he would? No indeed! I know that boy too well to think illof him, miss; cut come, let me show you into the spare room, and you bring her traps, Jack,” This the shadower detective did, and then saying that he would come on the following night he glided away as silently as a ghost,
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“ t 12 ri ca tales Ta eee CP dey ee a ee te ee Tn ene ies baalx Oy tia ali item ae otk a SE Sb omen -" : wi ers 2 New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. Leaving the little cottage he hastened along, for dawn was not far off, and in a short while re-entered the grounds of the old mansion. What secret the house held seemed to hold no terrors for him, as he stood calmly sur- ‘veying it for a few minutes, and then walked . on toward the rear of the mansion. Coming toa high wall he climbed a tree near it, and thus reached the top, along which he walked for a few yards when he reached ‘a spot where he dropped down into the in- closure beyond. It was bright starlight now, and he beheld -about him the monuments of the dead. Their snowy whiteness had gone from ‘them under the touch of time and mold, rand yet they looked like grim specters in the -darkness, as grim as the ghastly skeleton forms would have looked that lay beneath ‘them. But in their midst was Graveyard Jack’s home and the place held no terrors for him. CHAPTER XX. THE GAMIN DETECTIVE AT HOME, To one who had beheld the form of Grave- ‘yard Jack, gliding along among the moss- covered graves and moldy tombs, it would have been a startling sight. But, no one saw him there, as not a soul else than he dared visit that ghostly spot by night and few ever set foot there by day, for ‘those who had kindred there at rest had long before moved away and few held interest in ‘the old cemetery save for the value it would bring as town lots, when the ashes of the dead must be moved to make way for the living. Graveyard Jack had too often traversed ‘those weed-grown paths to feel dread of vaught he found there, and going to the cen- ter of the burying-ground, where there was a hillund some heavy timber, he glided in among some larger monuments and halted at the iron door of a massive vault. There was a lock in the hasp, but it readily opened, the heavy door swung back on its hinges and in stepped the fearless boy, -drawing it to behind him, that no glimmer of light might be seen from a distance and be- te his presence there, match was struck, a candle lighted, and ‘the interior was revealed. It was ‘what Jack was pleased to call “‘ comfortable,” yes, even cozy, but to any ‘one else as an abiding-place it would have ‘been deemed appalling, ghastly, spectral cand forbidding. There were a dozen apertures for bodies, vall but three of them closed up and with the dead inside, for the inscriptions were upon ‘the marble slabs that closed them, and told ene of the Maxwell blood were buried there- “in, ° ’ Therewas a space between them and the ‘iron door of some fully ten feet in width and fifteen in length, and its marble flooring was covered with a carpet. Against one end of the vault hung a por- Were, behind which was a cot with bedding upon it. In the other end was a table, above which hung a shelf on which were a number of books. — Writing materinls were upon the table, while some clothes hung under a curtain ~ against the wall. f In one of the open spaces for coffins was some food, as though it was used as a refrig- erator, and placing this upon the table and - drawing up an easy-chair, the only one in the vault, Graveyard Jack sat down to eat _ his late supper, or his early breakfast, as he - might consider it, with evident relish. There was an opening in the iron door, and a chimney-pot was pushed through the arched top to the surface outside, and the ' arches and some wood in one corner showed _ ‘that Graveyard Jack had built a fire there at 1es when he needed it, Ny gra st a TAM ve ve! a lis > 4 peed Having partaken of his repast, the youth undressed himself, put out his candle and went to bed, as though he felt perfectly at home in his dismal quarters, But he was awake before the sun had long been up, and, after taking a careful observa- tion, slipped out of the cemetery into a lane and made his way, at a brisk pace, to a more thickly settled part of the city. The Gamin Detective entered a cheap res- taurant, and ordering his breakfast, he took out of his pocket a sheet of paper and an envelope, aud proceeded to write a letter. This done, hé addressed the envelope, and sealing it, he stamped it with a ring he took from his pocket, and then put it carefully away, while he ate his breakfast with the air of one who enjoyed it. Having finished his breakfast and paid the check, he sauntered on down-town with an evident purpose in view. What that purpose was is known to the reader, as, a couple of hours after, the old lady in black handed to the Secret Service chief the letter from ‘‘ The Unknown Shad- ower,” giving the information regarding the murder of Miser Max, and what would be found by a search of the old Haunted House, Having accomplished his purpose, of mak- ing known to the chief the double tragedy of the night before, Jack had still another work ; to do, judging from his actions, for he went through the lowest slums of the city, every | now and then meeting a fairly well-dressed youth or ragged urchin with whom he held a few words of consultation. At last he continued his way back to- ward the upper part of the city, going now to the west side and at last halting on the end of a long pier, where he sat down as though to rest and enjoy the view out upon the river. He had not been there very long before a freckle-faced red-headed youth sauntered up and sat down near him. In a few moments more another boy ar- rived, of even less attractive appearance, and in an hour's time nearly a dozen youths had gathered there and sat swinging their ' legs over the end of the pier, yet attentively / listening'to what Jack was telling them in a low tone, that no one a dozen paces away could have heard. CHAPTER XX. THE BOY POLICE. ‘* ITF you says so, cap’n, it’s got to be did, though I never goes nigh a graveyard, and didn’t want ter until 1 went thar with feet fu’st,” ‘*T hain’t stuck on graveyards myself, but I’m not one ter kick ag’in’ ther dead.” **No more am I.” “‘Ther graveyard goes, then.” ‘*No one goes to ther graveyard.” ‘«Now hain’t that smart?” ‘* Well, the cap’n says meet at ther grave- yard, so I’m in it with both feet.” F ** Yas, we'll all be zm zt, head and feet some ay.” Wh , boys, I don’t. see why you are all so afraid of the dead,” said Graveyard Jack, with a light laugh, as he listened to the re- marks of his pards when he appointed a ren- | dezvousin what was knownas ‘‘ Jack’s Bone- yard” that night at twelve. ‘‘We huain’t afeerd of ther dead, cap’n Jack, but their ghosts,” said one. . ‘Nonsense, there is no such thing as | ghosts, or I would have seen one of them long ago.” ‘* Yas, you boards in ther same hotel with 7em, that’s a fact.” ‘¢ Well, the graveyard is the place of meet- ing to night, so come one at a time by the lane entrance.” ; ‘Can't wercome all in a heap, cap’n?”’ ‘No, for the police would be onto you very quickly, and you know that they will | be very watchful up there now, as the miser was murdered. . ae x ‘ ; a a ~ **Come alone, and I'll meet you insia, wall, for there is to be onethere whom Iwi™ you all to meet.” ‘* We'll be there, cap’n.” ** And remember, you must tell the other boys, for all must come, as to-night I intend to give you some good news.” With this Jack left the party, which soon after broke up, dispersing to their various haunts in the city. Taken altogether they were a bright lot of lads, ranging from twelve to twenty years i of age, and as different in appearance and \ nature as were the clothes they wore. They were not a hard-looking lot either, if one analyzed their faces, but youths who had courage, determination and intelligence, with a sense of honor to guide them. Many of them had seen the very worst phases of life, and had known all there was of hardship and suffering. i Others had seen better days, and from the TT many whom he had come in contact with 1 te Graveyard Jack had selected his allies in a good work, bi He had sifted the tares from the wheat, M and an alliance had been formed by which t they meant to earn an honest living and yet do good service. They were lovers of adventure, those who preferred an honest career to one of crime, who had seen all there was of evil in a crimi- nal career and were glad to turn from it to a better life when the chance came to them. That chance came when Graveyard Jack, innocent of intentional wrong-doing, had been made a fugitive, an outcast, yet would not descend to become what it seemed all about him, men, women and children even, wished him to be, a crook, one to live upon his fellows, to rob honest people of their hard earnings, to get gold, even did they have to kill to ‘get it. It was an idea of the Gamin Detective, hunted himself, for the police who saw him, felt that he was a crook, though they had never been able to catch him in a lawless act, to show to the Secret Service ¢bief that he was not bad; that, living among the wicked, he was able to render better service than the detectives sent among them fora special purpose, Once he could build up a name for him- self, have rewards awaiting his call, he would make himself known, explain first how circumstantial evidence had driven him away a fugitive, and let his good deeds stand against his alleged sins, and become ~ what his ambition was to make of himself, a great detective. | a Believing himself more hunted than he was, that his adopted parents were still y searching for him to have him hanged for — killing the young man whom he had shot fora burglar, and that if called upon asa” witness in certain scenes he knew of, he would at once be seized and held for trial, A the poor lad had made his home where he knew the superstitious fears of many men would not allow them to come, and there he had lived alone in his gruesome quar- ters. He had saved up his money, so had quite ..__ a snug sum to help his aids along with, and hoped to be able to earn more, for now _ and then a reward came their way which was put in the common treasury. : Bis ts Once he had restored a lost pocketbook in which there was a large sum of money, and _ his recompense had been generous. = ‘‘One of the lads*had found a diamond ~ pin, and when they saw the reward offered, — it was returned to the owner. fis Another had thwarted the intention of i ae of honor. ° . ; Bee SS tee But, it is a mistaken notion that al
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New York Nat, the Gamin Detective, the slums are dishonest, for crime and evil deeds are found in the fashionable homes as well as in the lowest quarters of the city, only they are more generally hidden from view. His dealings with the chief of the Secret Service Jack determined should ‘all be of a mysterious nature, and so it was that he set his boy police to gleaning all the informa- tion of premeditated crime, and notifying the chief of it in a way that the source could not be traced, CHAPTER XXII, THE MASKED MASCOT. ) ae Tue night came on dark and threatening 1 sent the leaves skurrying along through the old graveyard with a sound like rattling ta bones. t The Gamin Detective had built a fire in his vault and made all as comfortable as pos- } sible to receive his guests, while he had laid out on the table quite a spread for them, which he knew would be appreciated. his gruesome abode and looked about him, } “This threatening storm makes the old place still more gloomy, and I almost fear some of the lads will back out and not come, though what they are afraid of I do not see,” iy and he walked over to the wall near the lane “ where he had agreed to meet his comrades. in He had just gotten there when a form that ah was standing inside the wall darted away i» 4 like a deer, and with a bound was out of the { graveyard flying in terror, But, Jack was quick to give a call, a pe culiar whistle which the boy police all knew, 7 and the fying form came toa halt, just as ge he was stampeding half a dozen others who were creeping cautiously into the lane. “It’s Jack, you scared idiots!” said the first one to fly, and one of the lads answered: “7 Sp i Oh, we wasn't scart, only we was a-git- ie tin’ out o your way, Shinny, for you was a- ag comin’ in great shape,” A low laugh followed this: rally, but the laughter seemed like hollow mockery in that spot and they stood in silence until Jack's ee was a second time heard, hen they began to scale the wall, while others who had come into the lane and stood afar off now came forward. **One, two, three,” counted Jack as the came over until he had discovered that all were there, and he said: “Yes, we are all here—thirteen.” **Cap’n, they tells ine thirteen is an un- common unlucky number,” said one. _ There are fourteen of us, boys, for there is one for you yet to meet,” and Graveyard Jack led the way among the graves to his own quarterst The boys kept close at his heels, none of them seeming anxious to bring up the rear, and all of them gazing about them at the spectral-looking stones, “«'Thar’s a ghost, sartin as I live,” whisper- ed one, ahd all came to a halt. __ “Don’t bea fool, Pepper, for it is a marble image of an angel,” said Jack, and he went — and placed his hand upon the monu- ment, _ stampede, the boys went on until their - leader halted at the vault where he had his “agai "A heavy blanket hung over the iron door _ to keep the light from showing to distant _ windows when it was opened, and Jack ushered his ferrets into the vault, all shud- dering as the upg hat _ Several had been there before by daylight, fant one at night, though all Enow't e graveyard and that Jack had made ite quarters there both day and night. sit down there on the cot and the board , rain, the wind howled among the trees, and | Thus reassured, yet ready as mustangs to | ‘Now, pards, I have things to say to you; The lads obeyed, glancing timidly at the inscriptions upon the slabs so near to them / “I told you that we had fourteen in our | league, for [ have one to make known to | you tonight who has joined us, and who | Lam sure will be our mascot. ‘* Who she is, for it’s a girl,tyou will not | know, for she will be masked, and will be known to you only as our mascot and our | queen; but I will vouch for her as one of us; and one who will help us in many ways. ‘* Now, lads, you pitch in here and feed yourselves until my return, for I am going after the mascot,” and Jack suddenly slip- | ped out of the door and the ferrets were left alone. They looked at each other curiously at first, but then they felt there was safety in numbers and Shinny set the example of | “feeding,” and soon all pitched in and en- joyed the repast, which Jack had supplied, Then they begun to discuss this new mem- ber of their league, and several shook their heads dubiously, while one remarked: i ‘*T don’t like her being a gal, for in my ex- At the time appointed he walked out of perience no gal kin keep a secret!” | ‘That’s so,” one remarked. | ‘*She’ll git us all hanged yet,” urged an- | other, ‘* What fer? ‘‘ We hain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong, but is really running down crooks, with ther per- lice chasin’ us ourselves as crooks ” ‘They is away off, for we hain't crooked.” And so the discussion was going on, when suddenly the door opened and Graveyard Jack stood before them, But be was not alone, for by his side stood a slender form dressed in black, and witha sable mass covering her face completely. | * Boys, this is our Masked Mascot, and she is our Queen as well.” The crowd very nearly broke out into a | cheer, but were silenced by mutual consent, while the Masked Mascot saidin a voice that , won them all: ‘“‘T must shake hands with those who are to be my comrades, my fellow-ferrets in a good cause, so tell me yournames, for I will , hot forget you.” The ferrets were won at once, and each | one gave his name, or nick-name, as the Masked Mascot warmly grasped his hand. ‘* Now, comrades, Jack here has told me 'of the good work you have done, and I am | With you heart and soul, and will help all in my power, ‘* After a short while we will have another | Place of meeting, less weird than this, and | each week we will meet and compare notes, and Iam to be your treasurer, so when you need money, send me word by Captain Jack, and he will tell you the work you are to do, Good-night all!” and the Masked.Mascot left _ the vault, accompanied by Jack, who led her from the graveyard and then back to the cot- tage of the Widow Herbert, where she had found a pleasant home. ‘*T tell you, Olive, those ferret® are never idle. They go everywhere, pick up all they hear, and the reports they bring in have given me several most important criminal secrets which I make known in a mysterious | way to the chief. “T ve got a post-office now for the boys to deposit their reports, so we'll be receiving them all the time, and they are gettin places as hotel boys, messenger boys, an other employment that will help us greatly; but you are home now, so I must go back and get the boys out of the cemetery,” and Jack returned, and to the great aight of his ferrets, guided them out of the burying- ground, while he went back alone to his ‘gloomy home. ) CHAPTER XXIII. . THE VAILED LADY. chief had heard nothing from his Tue ach, for I rigged that up to-day for you.” ; Unknown Shadower correspondent for some te time, and he and Captain Williamson were- discussing the many services he had render- ed, when the attendant announced a lady visitor. She was admitted, and was stylishly dress- ed and graceful, but wore a vail that was. impenetrable. ‘* Be seated, madam,” and the chief placed a chair near his own. The lady sat down and looked toward Captain Williamson, as though she wished to be alone wtth the chief. The captain saw her look, understood it. and with a bow retired. ‘‘Are you the chief of the Metropolitan Secret Service, may I ask, sir?” ‘Tam, madam,” ** Are you acquainted with one who calls. himself The Unknown Shadower?” The chief started and replied: ‘**T have had communications from such a. person, madam.” “‘Tcan only explain my call upon you, sir, by stating that I was called upon at oo home by a youth who asked me to bear this. letter to you, and his excuse was, for request-. ing me, a stranger to be the bearer of it, that he dared not come himself.” The lady banded over an envelope bearing’ the well-known seal of The Unknown: Shadower, and addressed to the chief in the> handwriting of the other communications, ‘*May I ask, madam, who it is that I have: to thank for this service?” asked the chief courteously. In “pe er the lady took out acard from a well-filled and handsome purse, and said: ‘*T wish, sir, to remain unknown, save to ou, in this transaction, the nature of which am ignorant of, but as the young man told me that it wasacase of life and death, I could not refuse him the earnest request that. he made of me to bring the letter personally to you, soi ordered my carriage and drove here at once,” ‘* Again I thank you, madam. You shall not be known in the matter I assure you,” and the chief glanced at the card, which held. & name and address upon one of the fashion- able streets. : As the lady arose to go the chief asked: “Will you describe this youth to me, madam ?” ‘* A young man of seventeen or eighteen, well dressed, courteous in manner, and one- who had the look of being sincere and honest,” ‘“* A description that will answer to thou- ot Saag muttered the chief, while aloud he: said: “Gave he no name?” *“‘Upon the card he sent up was the name: John Oliver, sir.” ‘Thank you, madam,” and as the chief escorted the lady to the door he glanced from. his window and saw a stylish carriage with a. coachman in livery. 4 Then he pressed a button and Detective: Gordon appeared, “Quick, Gordon! Follow that carriage and find out all you can about its occu- pant.” The detective darted out of the room and two minutes after was in a cab following the carriage of the vailed lady. The chief having sent a shadower on the track of bis visitor, returned to his seat and ‘opened his letter with the remark: ‘* Now what is it this time, I wonder?” As he read his face pie nalaee color, and rising he went toa door and called for Captain Williamson. ‘*What, another one, chief?” queried the: captain as he entered and saw the letter. ‘* Yes; read it.” ' The officer read aloud: **You have been requested to come alone: a to-night to hear the confession of a dying’ woman of a crime committed yearsago, = ‘You are going to a house where ‘there iss 4 ' +5 ) ‘ 1. eo
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ee ee - : ya eee SE ag era Se SIE TL ORES: ve “ ahalS esate a oe ee = ory Pe ata - wt ~ —— \ $ re ET ERS re eS = Ltn Fe he aed oe ~- ae — > eS i ee “igh: 5 ae a Ree ° pyhe a ie os * _ 2 = .Y ee es + ES: Sixers pe) » = oe ST ws roy DP OPI TSE FE Bh OY . i 7) 14 a plot formed to take your life, by Anar- chists whose schemes you have lately dis- covered, and they intend to kill you before you can lay your plans to entrap them, “‘Have men follow you and you will en- trap your game; but, go alone and your life ‘will be the forfeit. ‘‘Tae UNKNOWN SHADOWER.” ‘Well, chief, I would certainly heed this warning, for you have secured information Jately against some anarchists.” “T have, and I have agreed to go to the house in question to-night to hear a woman’s dying confession, ‘*Here is the number, so have your men ready to follow me in when I enter, and cut off all avenues of escape.” The two officers talked together for some time, and the plan was thoroughly arranged to thwart the plot of assassination, and the captain left to get his men in readiness for the work. Hardly had he departed when detective Gordon entered. ; ** Well, Gordon, back so soon?” “* Yes, sir.” “* What luck,” “The lady drove to Number —— East Thirty-fith street, sir, and entered the house, the carriage then went to a stable near. ‘*T learned from the stableman that the carriage belonged there, but was not private property—that it had been hired by the hour and sent to the number named, ‘*T then went tothe house and rung the bell, intending to make an excuse for calling. ‘‘There was no response to the bell, and I noticed that the outer door was closed, so I went next door and was told the house was for rent, furnished; there was no occu- Yn in it, but that a lady had gotten the key several hours before to look through it, a carriage had called there for her, and had brought her back again.” ‘* And the lady’s card I gave you?” | “Is the ng living next door, sir, and who owns the houses,’ ** Duped again, and by a woman; but I am much obliged to yeu, Gordon, for you have most thoroughly done your work,” and as the detective left the room the chief sprung to his feet and paced the floor, » strange expression upon his face as he mused over the clever manner in which each time most valuable information had been given hhim, while the informant had cleverly con- cealed his identity. CHAPTER XXIV. THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR. Ir was a stormy night on the Sound, but # small sloop seemed to be making headway, as she headed in toward the Long he shore, where there was a small har- r. _ Entering the haven the anchor was drop- a and a boat put off for the shore con- ed anumber of persons. A light burned in a house on a hill, not far distant, and toward this the party wended their way, all but two remaining in _ the shadow of the trees. Those two ascended to the piazza and one of them knocked loudly at the door. ‘* Who is there?” asked a voice from the window. ‘A gentleman wishes to see Mr. Roger _ Thurston,” ** Who is he?” ** An officer of the law.” ~ “* What do you want with me?” ~ **Come down and see,” There was a delay of some time and then the door opened and a man of middle age ap- peared holding a lamp in his hand. __* Come in and state your business,” he said "You shall soon know it, soho oa TIS SY eel ct ie ale Teeeahion tei oc kee ae ete LO EI aa BM PRT TR ER GL ME > PR J ; A a 2 Pay 5 ae ad ood | have all the papers.” Nites) New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. ‘All right; we shall need her too. ‘*Now, Roger Thurston, I demand that you sit down there and write your confession of a crime concealed by you years ago.” ‘A crime? I am guilty of no crime!” gasped the man. ; ‘*You are guilty, for you sought to fasten a crime upon one who was innocent, to pro- tect the honor of your son, who you well knew had attempted torob you, and was shot as a burglar. ** Now, sir, tell that story as you know it to be, sign it, and you will not be prosecuted, but refuse, and you go with me this night to prison.” ‘*My God! I feared it would come, some day, but I believed you dead, long ago—-lost that same night in the storm on the Sound. *T recognize you now, John.” “Then you know I am no longer content to rest under the charge of having killed your son ina quarrel, when you are well aware, as your wife told you then, that your son was robbing you—that, believing him to be a burglar, I entered the room, was shot at by him and returning the fire killed him, ‘*T heard your plot to spare his honor and accuse me, and in my fright I fled. ‘* Now write your confession and sign it, for I have witnesses here who will testify to its being genuine, This gentleman is amag- istrate whom I brought along to take your acknowledgment of your guilt.” ‘And you will not prosecute me?’ ‘Upon one condition,” “Name it.” ‘That you give to me the papers that will prove who I am,” ‘‘T am glad to get the load off my mind,” sighed the man, “And your wife must then sign as you **T will be glad to do so, for that wrong has haunted me, John, ever since that night,” and the woman glided into the room, havin gion husband down-stairs and hea all, The confession was written by the man and read over, ; Two of the muffled forms outside were called in the witness the signirg of it by Roger Thurston and his wife, and then the magistrate put his name and seal upon it. olding the precious document carefully, the assumed officer of the law placed it it apie away in an inner pocket, and then sa . “T once heard you tell your wife that you had been shipmates with my father and knew all about him and had been present at | his death. Is that notso?” “Yes, John.’ ‘‘T believe you have some papers of his.” ‘‘T have a confession that he made, Jobn, before he died, and which he gave to me when he asked me to care for his children.” ‘‘T was not the only child then?” ‘*No.” 4! Where is the other?” ‘*I do not know, and I only found you by an accidefft,” ‘* You have that confession now?” “e I have. ie ; ‘* And will give it to me?” ! ad Hie will pledge me ain word that you will not prosecute my wife or myself, or our confession of conspiracy against you, and also will not take any steps against me when you discover what there is in your | father’s dying words,” ’ “What! Had you a hand in his death?” cried the youth. ; **Oh no! no! We were the best of friends, and I served him, as you will see when you ‘read what he wished me to write down for him. | “Give me your pledge, and you shall “ar give you the pledge. Now get me the : rs, t taal | Pve man left the room and in a few “ Shewaepe ci St Ne aah ON erent an Te ws. een - < bean apn i ET aye | all left in his me correct information, I will go an minutes returned with a large envelope tict up with red tape and sealed. Upon it was written: ‘* Nathan Chandler Papers.” Jack took the papers and said quietly: ‘‘T have nothing to thank you for, Roger Thurston, so will not waste words in doing 80, “T have not forgotten you, or your and your wife’s sin against me for your son’s sake, as my visit to you this night proves, Good-night.” And, half an hour after the little sloop was sailing swiftly back to New York City from whence she had started at nightfall. CHAPTER XXV. THE FOILED LAWYER. Tne chief had gone to the place, where an appointment had been made with him to hear the dying confession of a woman, who had the story of a crime to make known, But in some way the plotters had been warned of the scheme to entrap them and had fled. Those in the house told how there had been some rough-looking men occupying the top floor of the house, but that’ they had hastily departed a couple of hours before the chief called, carrying their belongings with them, and a little girl had heard one of the men run up the stairs and call out to the others: “It’s no go, for the chief are on to us and have set a trap to catch us,” Then the men had hastily departed. Other inquiries of the occupants on the lower floor convinced the chief that he had | been rightly warned by The Unknown Shadower, and that the men were really anarchists and a bad lot, and he set the failure to capture them down to its real cause, that the police had mad* too play in setting their trap and thus had aroused the suspicion of tue gang, causing them to take flight, What the bad lot had left behind was coo to convince the chief and his men that they were the worst kind of crooks and it was a cause of general regret amon officers that the vile gang had escaped them. It was some days after this that the chief received through the mail, under cover of an outer envelope, another communication from The Unknown Shadower, and whith wasas follows: ‘* Your men were too eager to protect you and entrap your intended assassins, so gave = them warning of the trap set for them, “The gang, seven of them, now have ~ their quarters at the number inclosed, near Peck Slip, so meer your eye on them for in due time they will noose. ‘‘Another thing: let me advise that you shadow Lawyer Brackette, for you will find he is trying to sell the property he can get cash for, left by Miser Max to his heir: then he will skip the country, for he is largely in debt, as he is secretly a gambler, living a double life. ** He has not yet disposed of the property, i but is negotiating a deal. ‘* By informing him that you know what | he is doing, you can force him to transfer this pro rty to other hands that are honest, for the 7 eiress wiil claim her own in time, _ ‘Tae UNKNOWN SHADOWER.” The chief read this over twice and then — putting on his hat prepared to goout. =~ ‘‘There is no need of shadowing that law-— yer to be convinced that he is playing sharp game, for while doing so he may a complish his Baty: and get away, and with ands the law could not touch him, I fear, a Sant Ae a **No, the Unknown Shadower | } f a ie ae? oy reat a dis- the | run their heads into the | ae
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wae ws a bluff game with this limb of the law, whom I always suspected to be tricky.” So saying, the chief left his quarters and @ quarter of an hour after was in the at- torney’s office, ‘* Mr. Brackette,” he said, sternly, ‘‘ there is no need of mincing matters with you so | will tell you frankly that I have come here to make » demand upon you.” The lawyer turned pale, but answered: ‘*Ts it a demand for hush-money, sir?” ‘* No, I am not of your stripe, thank God, arobber of those whose trust is in your hands.” **] don’t understand, sir, and I will not—” “‘Oh, yes, it will, for you have been shadowed, and | have the proof that you have been trying to sell for cash certain property left in your keeping by Maxwell, known as Miser Max. “T know that you owe a great deal of money, gambling debts and others, and that, . taking advantage of the estate left in your ¥ hands, to await the coming of its heiress, you are trying to defraud her and leave the country with her fortune turned into good . 5 gold coin, so I tell you that you will do as I 4 emand, or you will be shown up in your ‘true light by my exposure of you,” ‘* My God, chief, don’t do that, for I have done no wrong.” ‘No, for I headed you off in your scheme,” ‘*What do you ask of me?” ‘*‘T simply demand that you at once trans- fer this estate from your keeping into hon- est hands, lawyers who will act squarely tee with it and the heiress, and men whom [ will name, for I will see them and—” ‘*One moment please.” * Well?” nH ‘Name the men and I will go to them a myself, this very hour, and make the re- i | quest that they take the estate in their keep- ake ing, that I will turn it at once over to them ‘intact. ‘ By so doing I will not be compromised, and—” ‘*You do not deserve any mercy, Brack- ette, but if you do as you’say, and at once, and the estate is intact, I will allow you to go to these gentlemen. Here are their names; but remember, until the transfer is consummated I will shadow you like a hound,” ‘* You may trust me, chief, indeed you may,” cried the thoroughly frightened lawyer. _ “YT shall expect a visit from you to- morrow, telling me you have made the transfer,” and the chief departed pleased with his call. CHAPTER XXYVI. A FATHER’S CONFESSION, Ir was not for some days after his mid- night visit with the magistrate and his Boy _ Police, to the home of Roger Thurston, that _ Graveyard Jack had the courage to look over the papers given him by the man who » had been his adopted father. He had also in his possession another _ ‘paper, one which he had not given to Olive _ and which he had not even read himself. He had found it in the secret closet with _ the treasure of Miser Max and upon the en- -velope was written: _ “My confession of crime and my endeavor ' toatone.” Driven to his dismal abode one night, b a severe storm, Jack closed the door, ighted his candle and sat down to muse, as was his wont. ab ede eh | ‘Well, our Boy Police are doing good ' work, and a ones we, who are regarded Sie, crooks m our rewards and demand re- znition as the real detectives and shadow: | & ” ates have show _ | “Then I was avenged, but more wretched n ourselves to be. nae aan ED, of tig, Oy sd | ‘But I wish to get Olive out of it, for she is too noble a girl to be allied with such as we are, and if the chief makes that haul all right of the Masked Angels, I wrote him about, at one swoop we will get hold of the murderers.of old Miser Max and she will thus be avenged, for though they may not all hang the guilty one certainly will. ‘*T feel like a different being now, since I got that confession from Thurston and his wife, that I was not the murderer of their son, “That brings up to my mind that T have not yet read my father’s confession. I must —yes I will do so now.” He took out of a hiding-place in the vault the envelope given him by Thurston, and also the paper takenfrom the chimney closet in the old mansion of Miser Max, Opening the paper he read: ‘* Having received my mortal wound, and with the fear of death before my eyes, I here wish to tell the story of my unhappy life.” Here followed the story of his love for Mabel Maxwell, her father’s refusal’ to allow her to wed him, their secret marriage, and the killing of his young wife in the grounds by mistaking her for him, as she was dressed in male attire. His unhappy wanderings after her death were told, and how, several years after, he had been nursed through an attack of illness by a beautiful girl whom he had learned to love for her devotion to him and had made her his wife. But her parents had discarded her for marrying a poor man anda sailor, and ad- versity had followed, until while he was away upon along voyage his wife had died, his children became separated, his daughter hay- ing been kidnapped, while the boy was after- ward found and cared for by his old mate, Roger Thurston, One night, through a fire, he had discovered his lost daugkter and was happy in taking her to his home until he went to sea again, when Thurston was to also take care of her, but the hatred of Paul Maxwell for him had never died away, and finally he had dogged the sailor to his death, for, landing one night upon the shore, near his home, he had de- manded that he should meet him ina duel, stating that he had been the cause of all his unhappiness and hence he soughs the upon him, or death at his son-in-law’s hands, Nathan Chandler, thus forced into the duel, had fired into the air, while the bullet of the other had ended his life. Such was the confession that Jack read of his father's life, only the name of Paul Max- well was not given, and it did not seem that Thurston knew it. : For a long time did Jack sit and ponder over what he had read until at last he said; ‘Tf the confession of Olive’s grandfather is as cruel a one, she must not see it. I will read it too,” It was opened and found to be dated at old mansion a short while before his eath. ~ “Duty compels me,” read Jack, ‘‘ to write here the secret of my life. . ‘‘There are many yet living who will re- member how my loved daughter was killed by my own band one night in my grounds, I believing her to be, as she was dressed in male attire, her lover, who her dying words told me was in reality her husband. ‘‘With such a curse upon my life I was broken-hearted, and in time became revenge- | ful against the man who had made me-the slayer of my child. **So at last | sought him out, one. fateful night, determined that he should die-by my hand, or I fall by his. ‘‘He met me in a duel with pistols, at my demand; he fired his shot into the air but J killed him.” York Nat, the Gamin Detective. | Miser Max, and when he had finished it his ng ee s life, he challenged him to than ever, and my life became more and more a curse, ) _‘* At last I repented of my sin, my double ; Sin against Nathan Chandler, and sought to , atone for it. I went to his house and claimed | his daughter the day after his burial, his lit- _ tle Olive. | ‘I claimed to be her grandfather, said i ‘that I was rich and would do all in my ia | power to make her happy, and so I took her and claimed her as my own. ra ‘* But, duty compels me to make this con- vi / fession, though I pray Heaven it may never reach her eyes. ‘When I am called away ell that I have i shall go to her, and that all is a great for- e tune for Lam a very rich man, as my attorney, Adam Brackette, can vouch, ; i. ‘* Such have been my crimes ard my atone- ment, if atonement it is. (9 ‘*PauL MAXwELu.” on To the end without 2 word of comment, a did Graveyard Jack read this confession of face had a strange expression upon it. He looked years older, and, seizing his hat, he walked out into the night, unmindful of the storm that was raging. CHAPTER XXVIL Bae UNITED, “‘Oxrve, I have come to have a talk with . ou, ” ‘ So said the boy chief of the Police League Re the morning after having read the confessions it of his father, and that of Miser Max. sa nate Jack, has ony thos gone wrong? You look baggard and ill.” xf “‘T am all sight now, but I have hada a hard night of it, and, also, I have something to tell you.” “Yes, Jack.” , ‘* Where is Mrs. Herbert?” ‘Gone out to market,” or ** And the children?” : ae ‘She took them with her,” “Then we are alone?” “6 Yes, ” ‘Olive, I told you that I would be a brother to you,” ~" a ‘ “And you have been, Jack, indeed you~ aye,” : : Wass “T am glad to hear you say so, Olive, for | Tam in truth your real and true brother,” AMS ‘* Yes, we made that compact,” “This is no compact, but a reality—a wonderful reality,” Py) CA ‘Why, Jack!” §4552 “You believe yourself the granddaughter of Miser Max?” , Me “Am I not? Did he not say I was?” “No, you are not, though your fathe ren pereny married to his daughter.” es ” “Mr. Maxwell killed his own daughter, = mistaking her in the darkness for your. father, as she was dressed in man’s clothes and that was one of the curses upon that old man’s life,” * (or: chen 5 ‘* A terrible one, indeed!”. \ ‘Yes, but there was another,” oN. tg ‘Another curse, Jack? What can you — mean?” iH 2. : ‘Yes; your father married, several years after the tragedy, a lovely woman, and there were two children born, a son and a daugh- ter, . ' wa tt “Their mother died, and—well, you were _ the daughter, and your career, as yomiha ye y Ta, } bash told me, was your lot; but the adopted by aman named Thurston,” © «Mr, Maxwell’s hatred for your fathe penal, and in revenge pon fin, fath as hay been the cause of his taking his daugh- tect eit bee ar is f if and killed him,
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SS a 8 a > = = eae ae tS =p ee, OP 16 New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. ‘*Before your father died, however, to Next Half-Dime Library, No. 860. made a confession, which I read last night,, and I read Paul Maxwell's confession, also. ‘‘That he might atone for his crimes Maxwell boldly went to the house of the man he had killed and claimed to be your grandfather, and so adopted you.” ‘Oh Jack! how strange all this is ‘Tt is stranger still, as you will see, Olive. You were reared as his granddaugh- ter, and to be his heiress,” “* Never! nota dollar would I touch of his money, he who killed my poor father from a cruel revenge!” almost fiercely cried Olive. ““That is just what I expected youto say. But, Olive, there is more to tell; you are in- deed my own sister.” “fYour own sister?” *« Yes, for my father left a confession, and in it he told the story that Maxwell told; and more: he made known what became of his son.” “Ah, Jack!” ‘‘Your father's true name was Nathan Chandler, Olive.” * Yes.” 7; ‘* And Nathan Chandler was my father also, live,” Words can never portray the feelings of girl, the joy of the youth at the strange discovery made. “‘T have the papers to prove all I say, Olive, Roger Thurston’s statement, his wife’s also, the confession of our father and of Paul Maxwell, ‘* Yes, you remembered that you had a little brother, and now it is proven I am that brother. ‘* Now, are you the heiress of Miser Max or not?” ‘No! a thousand times no! Jack; I am your sister ; that is fortune enough for me!” ‘‘T was sure that you would say this, that you would cast that old man’s fortune from you, for he was the slayer of your father and mine. ‘But the future looks bright to me now; for I have found you, Olive,” hed CONCLUSION. LAWYER BRACKETTR was sharp on time, to ag that he had made the transfer of the Maxwell estate to those into whose hands the chief had told him to place the property. The attorney went back to his office an humbled man, and one who felt that be had learned the truth of the adage that ‘‘ hon- esty is the best pclicy.” But the chief had another surprise in store for him, as, one day, he received by Ex- press a package of papers, One was the confession of Miser Max; another was the confession of Nathan Chandler; a third was the statement of Roger Thurston and his wife, of their con spiracy against their adopted son, John, and a fourth was the relinquishment, by Olive Chandler, of all claim as heiress of the Max- well estate, and a draft for the amount of money found in the old mansion as the miser’s hoarded-up treasure. There were a few lines asking that the confession should be received in confidence. This request was simply signed, as the secret communications to the chief had been, with the words: “Tan UNKNOWN SHADOWER.” Many a letter came afterward to the chief, bearing valuable and unexpected informa- tion, so that, in time, he came to regard his Secret Police League with its Girl Queen as his most valuable aides in. ferreting out crime in the great city of New York. THE END, The Boat-Clob ‘Mascot; DAN DECKER’S DOUBLE DEAL. BY JO PIERCE. A story of New York City and vicinity, brimming with the excitement of adventure among the ‘ dan- gerous classes’’—they being, in this case, a well- organized band of apparently respectable and wealthy men, whose career as The Sea-Horse Club the daring boy-h@ro of the drama resolves to end; and how he carries out his perfectly original plans forms a rarely novel and decidedly stirring romance, but so real that it reads like the rvcord of One of the Cutest Cases in the annals of the New York riyer and shore police. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM 858 Dick Doom’s Kidnapper Knock-Out, 847 Dick Doom’s Ten Strike. $42 Dick Doom’s Flush Hand, 772% Dick Doom’s Death-Grip; or, The Detective by Destiny, 7 Dick Dooimn’s Destiny; or, The River Blackleg’s Terror. 784 Dick Doom; or, the Sharps and Sharks of New York, 788 Dick Doom in Boston; or, A Man of Many Masks, 798 Dick Doom tn Chicago. 798 Dick Doom in the Wild Weat. $08 Dick Doom’s Clean Sweep; or, Five Links in a Clue. 808 Dick Doom’s Death Clue. M18 Dick Doom’s Diamond Deal. 819 Dick Doom’s Girl Mascot. 829 Dick Doom’s Shadow Hunt. 885 Diek Doom’s Big Heul. 749 Dashing Charlie; or, The Kentucky Tenderfoot’s First Trali. 756 Dashing Charlic’» Destiny; or, The Renegade’s Captive. 760 Dashing Charlie’s Pawnee Pard. 766 Dashing Charlie, the Rescuer. 497 Buck Taylor, King ot the Cowboys. 787 Buck Taylor, the Comauche’s Captive. 748 Buck Taylor's Boys or, The Red Riders of the Rio Grande. 560 Pawnee BIll, the Prairie Shadower. 718 Pawnee Bil; or, Carl, the Mad Cowboy. 719 Pawnee BUPs Pledge; or, The Cowboy's Doom. 725 Pawnee Bills or, Daring Dick. 692 Redfern’s Curfous Case; 0, The Rival Sharps. oes Redfern at Devil's Ranohy or, The Sharp from Texas, 702 Redtern’s High Hand; or, Blue Jacket. 707 Redfern’s Last Trail; or, The Red Sombrero Rangeis. And Fifty Others, BY J. ©. COWDRIOK, Broadway Billy Novels. 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 614 Broadway Billy’s Boodle; or, Clearing » Strange Case, 586 Broadway Billy’s ‘ Diftikilty.” 557 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. 579 Broadway Billy’s Surprise Party. 605 Broadway Billy; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning. 628 Broadway Lg Dead Act: or, The League of Seven. 669 Broadway Billy Abreads or, The Bootblack in Frisco. 675 Broadway Billy’s Bests or,Beating San Francisco's Finest. 687 Broadway Billy in Clover. 696 Broadway Billy in_ Texas; or, The River Rustlers, 708 Broadway Billy’s Brand. 711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe; or, The Clever Deal. 720 Broadway Billy’s Full Wand: or, The Gamin Detective. 785 Broadway Billy’s Business. oes Broadway Billy’s Curious Case. 58 Broadway Rilly in Denver. 762 Broadway Hilly’« Bargains or, The Three Detectives, ies Broadway Billy, the Retriever Detective. 7S Broadway RBilty’« Shadow Chase. 88 Broadway Billy’s Beagles; or, The Trio’s Quest, 786 Broadway HBiily’s Team; or, The Combine’s Big Pull. 790 Broadway Billy’« Brigade; or, The Dead Alive. 796 Broadway Billy’s Queer Bequest. 800 Broadway Billy Bamted. 805 Broadway Billy’s Signal Scoop. 810 Broadway Billy’s Wipe Out, 815 Brondway Billy’s Bank Racket. S21 Broadway Billy’s Bluff. 826 Brondway Billy Amone Jerscy Thugs. 888 Rroadway Billy’a Raid. 889 Broadway Billy'« Big Boom, 844 Broadway Billy’« Ble Bulge. 849° Broadway Billy's $100,000 Snap, gY WM, G, PATTEN. #29 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport; or, The Jubilee ot Jacktown, 60% Vialet Vane’s Victorys or, The Jasper City Clean Out, 698 Violet and Datay, the Posy Pardes. 70% Violet. Vane’« Vow: or, The Cratty Detective’s Craft. 724 Violet Vane’s Vengeance; or, The bah Ont. 780 Violet Vane’« Verdicts or, The Game at Coffin City. ZAL Violet Vane, the Venirilognist Vidocq: or, Sport vs, Sport. tas vicies b Spe i fi ce i ng nd do Sa 6 folet Vane’« Vision; or, The Fiery Hand of Fate, 489 The thiamond Sport: or, The Double Fnoe of Bed Rock, 519 Captain Myatery or, Five in. One, 681 Daley thare the Sport from Denver. ; 687 Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. 604 Tron Fern, the Man of Fire: or, Among the Vultures, 619 The Ba Tra Detectiver or, The Double Grip Witness 641 Dismal Dave's ndy Pard; or, The Clue to Capt. Claw 651 Round Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective 682 Wild Vulcan, the Lone-Range Rider, 14 Old Misery the Man from Missouri. 74 Clear-Grit Cal, the Never Say-Die Detective, 789 Sam Sheridan, the Secret Service Special, 806 Cowboy Steve the Ranch Mascot. See Nobby Nat, the Tenderfoot Detective. 6 Sharper Stoke’s Double Deal. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novela. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road, 20 Deadwood Dick’s Detlance; or, Double Daggers 3° a te Bee - Misael, or, Buffal» Ben. 5S Deadwoot ¢ a « Onatle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanzn; 0, The Phantom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omana Oll. 5? Deadwood Dick's Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar, 7% Deadwood Dick on Deck; or. Calamity 2 me, the Heroine 8 penawood ep meat Act or, Corduroy Charlie. 0 endwood c¢kin Leadville, xe ae weed piek's G8 lee; ~ The Double Cross Sign. eadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Gorgon’s Guich Ghost, 138 Deadwood Dick’s Home Kaxe; gr, Blonde Bill. 149 Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. 166 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. 195 Dendwood Dick's Dreams or, The Rivils of the Road, 201 Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. aoe pesmweed ek 2 oo Lot peerae Jane’s Adventure, 217 Deadwoor ck’s Dead Deal. 220 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant, 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Rough« and Toughs, aan pene wees pee tale og ory rae Spirit of Swamp Lake- end woot ek’s Death Traltl 809 Deadwood Bick’s Deals or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducata; or, Days in the Diggings. sea ponaweed wiek Seuenaens or, The Terrible Vendetta, £62 Deadwood ck’« Claim, 405 Deadwood Dick tn Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’a Diamonds, 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “Cute Care.” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand. reed re he | pee 5 a or Crimson Crescent Sign. ‘ eadwood Dic r.’a, Deflance. 458 Deadwood Dick, Jris Full Hand, 45) Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Big Round-Up. 445 Deadwood Bick, Jr.’s. Racket at Claim 10, ay . Se talee 9 | picks tee Serres Sone Bill. endwoo ¢ r.’& Do etective, 451 Deadwood Dick: dr. in Dendy ood. 491 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Compact. 496 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Inheritance. bOU Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Diggings. 5608 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Deliverance. 5615 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Three. 529 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’*, Danger Dacka, 25 peaawood picke batt ye Munt, \ endwoo ck, drs, in Texas. oe pesados Bick ies the A. re eg 5: endwooa Dick, Jr., on Nia Mettle. 5654 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick, Jdr., in Boston, Bes puneuced mien gees = Fpitedoiphia, endw ood ek, +» in_ Chicago. 578 Deadwood Dick. Jr., Aflont. BS4 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Decree, 595 Deadwood Dick Jr., in Beclzchub’*« Busln, 600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney Island. aca Besdueed Bet ge ya'geeuie eadw ek, Jr, ¥ 618 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Cincinnati, 624 Deadwood Dick. Jr., in Nevada, 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land. dis bectuscd hige o07 Maan cadw ek, * " 648 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Chase Across the Continent 654 Deadwood Dick, Jr... Among the Smugglers. 660 Deadwood Dick, Jdr.’s, Inaurcnce Case. 666 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines, 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., tn Durango: or,“ Gathered Tn’? $33 pesewens Dilek pao iasovery: or, Found « Fortune, enadwood ck, Jr.’s. Dazzic. 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«. Dollars. Dick. Jr., at Danger Divide. Drop. 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-Pot. 764 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Lone Hand, 770 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’#) Defeat. 7768 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’ Resurrection, 782 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’ Dark Days. TST Deadwood Dick, Jr... Defied, 807 Doadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Royal Flush. 812 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Head-off, 816 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’«, Rival. 822 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’», Boom. S28 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Scoop. 884 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Proxy. 840 Deadwood Dick, Jr’, Clutch. 845 Dendwood Dick, Jr.’s, High Horse. 7 852 Deadwood Dick Jr., at Devil's Gulch, BY COL, A. F. HOLT. 7? Wideawake, the Train-boy Detective. 1 Headlight Narry’s Flyer; or, Duke Derby, 8 Headlight Harry’s Hazard. 1 Headlight Harry’s Haul; er, The Railroad Pards. ? Headlight Harry’s Siren; or, Mad Madge. 332 Headlight Harry’s Heritage. 94 Heudlight Harry’s Heats er, The Cache of Gold. 99 Black Buckakine or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon. 19 Kenneth, the Knife-King; or, The Doomed Six. 485 Littie Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods. Bz8B The Dandy Sport; or, The King Pin Conspirator. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 856 The Bootblack Stowaway; or, Broadway Billy’s Blind- By J. C. Cowdrick. y 857 Spotter Bob in New York; or, The Man from ’Way Back. By Wm. G. Patten. 858 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Beath-Hole Hustle ; or, The Doom of Satan’s Seven. By Ed, L. Wheeler, 859 New York Nat, the Gamin Detective; or, The Girl Queen Vf the Boy Police League. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 860 The Roat-Club Mascot; or, Dan Deeker’s Double Den). By Jo Pierce. 861 Rilly Brine, the Swamp Fox; or, Shadowing the Smuggler Schooner. By Chas, F, Welles. A New leave Every Tuesday. The Half.Dime Library {s for sale by all newadea.ers, five: gents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents cach. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Strect, Now York APAED tS ledant an “