Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 920) (1895 03 12)
The text was read from the page scans by machine (OCR), so it has mistakes and its columns may run together. See the pages · About this title · At the Internet Archive
Page 1
il! Heallealllcll ea SWAN a" WS. WMS f cull ‘ \ \ \ S CRASS “ Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y , Post Office, Pill by BEADLE AN 5, opyrighted 189% C PUBLISH No. 920 Vol. XXXVL. AMS, AD AND EW YOI + 4 EADLE T, N > > LY BY B EK No. 98 WILLIAM STREE E ED W Price, 5 cents. $2.50 TO HIS FATE, 4 A esau $ LEFT i A SL K. NA > . YORK NEW 7) ANS : a feb RY C) 7 o£ ps a 2a Ke ri a 2's © os ss —— a eS : a so fa 28] 5 = oS. ges o Bs oO 4 sss bd a 2 ER (olleet S| BB APE & eS m|Ra 3) “~~ s |/o, kx o > SBIR ARR, e SClelaecot. 0 SS Berto Ss = eee ee op co F OFFSS P| py PSE oO >, ganas a El Ss Ease 5 ~ = a tee 2 9. 9. Qse . 3 - q Had o ~ 28 ~ “5.2 E+. o.8 h
Page 2
*“Though unknown vo the chief of the Secret Service, and to the police, we know you, New York Nat. ** We know you as the chief of a secret band of Boy Police, of young Ferrets, guilty yourselves of crime, and under a false refor- mation, trying to cancel y ur past deeds by hunting down criminals less fortunate than you. ‘* We know that your band ferrets out more crime, runs down more guilty men than does the whole police force, and still keeping your identity known from those you serve so well, you are building up fortunes for yourselves in rewards offered for crooks, in blood- money, hoping some day you may enjoy the riches thus earned. : ** We know that your band of young Fer- rets is held together by iron-clad and deadly laws—that you have a place where you meet in secret, that you have a Girl Queen, or Mascot. ‘*But now that you are treading on dan- gerous ground, coming too near our haunts, we warn you what your doom will be, and that you must leave New York within the time named, or your death is certain. ‘* Goto another city and hunt down crooks, if you choose, but leave New York, where we claim a right to live upon others, to grow rich upon the gold of the rich, to care nothing forthe misforjunes and sorrows of our vic- tims, so that we prosper. ‘* So again we warn you that you must not attempt to hunt us down. Let your blood be upon your own head, for no mercy will be shown you, or your band, not even your Girl Queen. You will be blotted frcm the face of the earth, if you step not out of our way, for we have in our turn, turned detectives—we have spotted you, and are shadowing you to your doom, New York Nat! } ““THE VAMPIRES.” ‘* Oh! Nat, when did you get this terrible warning?” and the one who had just read it turned pale and looked anxiously into the face of the youth who had just given her the threatening missive to read, for she was a young girl, beautiful in face and form—a woman, thoughscarcely over sixteen. The youth laughed lightly at her fears; and responded: E ** Why, Olive, for the first time in my life I see you frightened. You are as white- faced as the ghost those Vampires threaten to make of me, “‘T would not have shown the letter to you, sis, had I thought ydu would be alarm- ed; I did so because 1 needed your help.” “* My help, Nat?” ; _ * Yes, as you have helped me time and ‘again.” “To do what?” " ce downhose Vampires, toshow them that I scorn their warning, that they can no ew York than they more frighten us out of grand old Hud- can stop the current of the son running at our feet. “No, no, sweet sister mine, Mascot Queen eof the Boy Ferrets, we have a mission to _ ‘perform, a task begun that must be finished _ and we will do it in the face of all threats.” uttered, and the up with fearless The words were earnest] face of the speaker lighte determination as he spoke. He was a young man, possessing. a grace- ful, athletic form and a face at once in- telligent, thoughtful and stamped with marked character, ; He was well dressed, as was also the girl SS sess spss i New York Nat Trapped. water front, was a small and neat cottage, and there the young girl had been seated when the youth came rapidly along and beckoned to her. Throwing on a sun-hat she had quickly followed to the spot among the trees, and once there he had handed her the letter to read which had aroused her fears, ‘But when did you get it, Nat?” she asked, ** Tt was addressed to me and given to the boy who helps Freckles at his news-stand, with the request that it be delivered to me in person.” ** Was Freckles there?” ‘‘ No, but the boy gave it to him on his re- turn. Last night he went up tothe Rookery and left it for me, with a note stating how he got it.” ‘* How strange! But, can the boy give no clue as to who left it?’ “‘T went to see Freckles this morning and gave him the letter to read, asking him to question the boy.” ** Well?” ‘**He ew +! said that a young and very pretty girl left it there, giving him a dollar to see tbat it reached me.” ‘“The boy does not belong to our band?” ** No.” ‘* He does not know you, then?” ** No, for he could not tell the girl if I ever came there or not, but she said that I often did so, and that Freckles would know all about it and what to do with it.” ** Nat, this means that our secret is known —that our League of Unknown Ferrets has been discovered, when we thought we were as unfathomable as death,” said the girl im- pressively. ‘* It would seem so, sister, for I did not believe any one knew me as New York Nat, the Boy Ferret Captain, outside of our band and our two kind allies who so ably aid us.” “ And now known, it means that we will be run down.” ‘* No, oh, no; for I swear that those who threaten me shall be run down, and by the very ones they threaten with death if we dog them. ‘*The Vampires, be they who they may, have thrown down the gauntlet for war and war it shall be to the knife and knife to the hilt—I swear it!” and the voice of the young Ferret Captain rung as he uttered the words. CHAPTER II. A STARTLING RECOGNITION, “PARDON me, but you are New York Nat?” Nat started at the salutation and the words. He was standing upon the corner of the street nearly opposite to the Hotel Bruns- wick, some two hours after leaving Olive at her up-town cottage home, andvbis bearing indicated that he was expecting some one. He had been there some fifteen minutes, apparently waiting for a stage, yet he had allowed several to go by without hailing them, and to be suddenly accosted as he was, by a stranger, and to be called by a name known to but few, gave him a start, in spite of his nerve. The stranger was atall, sinewy, handsome young fellow, with the air of a Southerner, which his dress also bore out, for he wore a broad brimmed hat, and a Prince Albert coat buttoned over his breast. His face was beardless, darkly-bronzed, whom he had called sister, and there was a| bold and fearless, and in his eyes was a rong resemblance between the two. They stood in a grove of majestic trees growing upon a high bank overhanging the udson River, and within the limits of New York City, but where the houses were few and far between. A short distance from them, upon one of the upper streets not yet cut through to the frankness that could not well be feigned. ** My name is Norton Chandler, sir,” re- sponded Nat, somewhat coldly. “Tt may be, but New York Nat is his alias. You are the one I seek—nay, I mean you no harm, but rather good, so listen to me.” New York Nat was amazed that he should St. James bar if they are there yet.” a .. be addressed in the street by the name know r only to his band, but he said quietly, though ™% watching closely for any move on the part of the other: ‘‘ Well, sir, granted that 1 do bear the nickname of New York Nat, what then?” ‘*“Do you see yonder cab against the curb?” ‘* Yes, sir.” ‘The driver is not there, I having sent him on an errand, while I remained in the hack, half hidden on the back seat, for two men stopping near did not see me, ‘‘They were talking earnestly, and you were the subject of their conversation, for they pointed to you. ‘* What they said was, in effect, as one told the other who you were, that you had been warned to leave town and if you did not heed you were to be hunted down and your doom was certain. ‘«* Why not shadow him now and capture him?’ asked one. e ‘*The answer was: ‘¢*Oh, I know where to find him and he cannot disguise himself so as to hide from me and the other shadowersin our band. He will be run to the end of his rope, for we are not safe while he is at large.’ *** All the same I say, track him to doom now, for he will not heed the warning, you may be sure,’ ; “Then the other man repeated what he had said about your being safe enough when wanted and then asked the other to go over to the St. James and have a drink. **T watched them go across Broadway, and then, leaving the cab, I came here to in- form you, for I did not think you looked like a criminal, while those men did, though I had an idea they were detectives. So now you know alland must act for yourself. Good morning!” ‘* Pardon me, sir, and allow me to thank you for your kindness. I think I know what the men are, Will you describe them, please?” The stranger answered readily: ‘‘One is tall and wears a mustache and side Liga pas? the other is short, smooth- shaven and red-faced. r = ‘*Both are dressed in a sporty style and wear high hats,” “Thank you, sir,” and New York Na held out his hand, which the stranger graspe with the remark; **T hope you are in no trouble and will come out of it all right.” “*T hope so, sir,” and Nat turned away as the stranger returned to his cab, the driver of which just then returned. New York Nat had gone but a few paces when he saw a youth coming toward him, dressed in the uniform of a messenger boy. — Before this lad got to him Nat began to speak: ‘ “Teaser, get a cab and follow yonder hack, and find out who the man is that hired it. Don’t fail!” ‘* Yes, cap’n,” answered the boy, neither one having halted or seemed to have spoken to each other in passing. ; As New York Nat hastened on his way, he ~ muttered: “It is lucky that Teaser came just ashe did, for I was between two fires, as I did not know whether to believe that man’s story and follow those two men he spoke of, or to shadow him. ie > f “te ‘* Now I am all Neht, for there is no better shadower in the band than is Teaser. - ‘If that man is a fraud he belies his looks, | for I like his face immensely. - ‘Now to see the two gentlemen in the So saying, New York Nat walked rapi across Broadway, entered the St. James Proceeding direct to the toilet-room he found — no one there, so at once began to make one — of those lightning changes at which he was an adept. Wey diy
Page 3
cs Cie We first removed his light slouch hat, and roe it replaced it by a black one of erby shape, though a soft one. His turn-down collar and dark tie were replaced by a high standing collar and red cravat, fastened together for a quick change. A wig of grayish hair, spectacles, the turning of a double-made coat, light on one side, dark on the other, a short stick drawn from his hip-pocket, and drawn out intoa A long cane, with a pair of yellow gloves com- hae pletely changed the appearance of New York Nat from the youth to apparently a man of forty, and the metamorphosis was not over a minute in taking place. Then he sauntered out of the toilct-room, a slight stoop in his gait, and walking as " though a trifle lame. saan Entering the cafe he cast a searching a glance around and beheld. the two men de- a it scribed by the stranger buying cigars at the a oa cashier’s desk. oe Instantly he stepped up and called fora i‘: cigar, for there was no mistake; the game i aa he sought was right at his elbow; and in spite of the boast of one of them to know 4 him in,any disguise New York Nat read by aI their faces that he was not known. or is CHAPTER III. me THE FERBETS AT WORK. Havine purchased a dozen of the best cigars each, one getting a twenty dollar, the other a ten-dollar bill changed to pay for them, the two men turned when Nat said in a low tone to the cashier: ‘Look well at the face of those two men so that you can recognize them, and put those two bills they gave you away until I return for them.” _ The cashier looked surprised, glanced at Nat, nodded and then bent his gaze upon ithe two customers, who were standing a short distance away, talking in a low tone. But, Nat, in passing “near, overheard the remark of one of them; ‘**T tell you it was a mistake to let him go now, for if he knows anything he'll spring the trap and not leave. I know him!” *‘T’ll take all chances.. He don’t know enough to spring any trap and our warning ce yh ‘will scare him away.” . oe Nat heard no more but left the cafe, the pss two men coming out soon after. 4S. They passed around into aside street, halt- ing at the door of a large and handsome brown-stone house, which Nat knew to be a fashionable gambling resort. **T would not dare follow them there, for they are as keen asa razor, and would soon know that I was shadowing them, Ah! I'll ‘get Parson to dog them,” and having seen the men enter the building, New York Nat hastened down to the corner of Twenty-third street, and asked to see one of his boys who . wasemployed there. | + “Parson, I need you, and quickly,” he ex- \ plained. A minute later, Parson, a youth so named on account of his serious face, joined him out- side. ‘“Go back and get a telegram—a bogus one, of course—and go up to C——’s gam- bling saloon on Twenty-sixth street. “ You will find there two men, one tall and wearing mustache and _side-whiskers, the _ other short and smooth-faced. Both are dressed like sports and wear high hats, , ‘Shadow them in some way, if it takes a week, and come to a special meeting at the Sie to-night, for we are being shadow- ed, ‘*' Tell any of the boys you see about the _ meeting. Now go. I leave it to you to track them.” ‘* T’ll do it,” was Parson’s confident reply, and he returned to the telegraph office, while Nat went back to the gambling saloon to see _ if his suspects were still there. ; _ He gained entrance by giving a private crate hy =. —— = — WS le Ec tn AEE. ie od OORT LT ge New York Nat Trapved. pass-word, though he was not known to the / cautious doorkeeper. Entering the elegant parlors, he found the afternoon games of faro and rouge et noir just beginning. About a score of men were present, most of them of the fashionable society set, for the professional gambler does not play until night. And there were his two men standing by the Fortune’s wheel and betting liberally. Nat wished to study their faces thoroughly, so he also took a place around the wheel of Fortune and put down some money upon a number, his position being such that he could distinctly scan the two men. He was in luck for several turns: then lost; and so, as though afraid to risk more, he turned away just as he heard a voice be- hind him say: ** Well, he is not here yet, so I'll wait for him.” The speaker was Parson, who held an ad- dressed telegraph envelope in his hand. Nat gave a quick glance toward the two men to be spotted, and Parson, nodding that it was all right, passed over to a corner to sit down and wait for the coming of an im- | aginary person to whom the telegram was addressed, Upon leaving the gambling saloon, New York Nat went to a fashionable hotel and sauntering about until he caught sight | the captain of the bell-boys, walked by him and said: ‘* A special meeting is called for to-night, Flip. Don’t fail. It is most important.” ‘‘Lor, cap’n, I’d never have known you,” averred the surprised and pleased Flip. **T’m on a trail, and there are those on our trail, so don’t fail to-night, and tell all the boys you can,” and Nat passed on and out of the hotel. Taking a Broadway car he rode up-town to a fashionable street among the forties, and as he reached the corner he saw a cab there and the well known face and form of Teaser. : ‘Ah! Teaser, on duty here?” The boy started and said in a low tone: ‘You scared me, for I did not know you in that rig. ‘*But where do you think my man is?” ‘“ Where?” **Do you see that carriage?” eee ‘* Well, he is in there.” ** All right, 1’ll shadow him now, and you let all the boys know there is a special meet- ing to-night,” and walking on Nat mused in a surprised way: ‘* Now what has he gone to Mr. Canfield’s house for, 1 wonder?” CHAPTER IV. A SURPRISE FOR NAT. WoND®RING what could have carried the handsome young stranger, who had warned him against the two men he had been shad- owing, to the house of Sherman Canfield, who was the ally of the Boy Ferrets, New York Nat ascended the broad stone steps and entered the elegant mansion with his own pass-key. He heard voices back in the library. and so went there, feeling assured that the stranger would not recognize him in his disguise. There before the door was the hack the stranger had been in when he overheard the words of the two men about Nat, and won- dered if his kind informant was not himself a detective and playing some deep game to entrap. He would soon know, for Sherman Can- field * was his, Nat’s, friend. *Sherman Canfield, from Nebraska, was a bor- der boy, whose life has been full of adventure and romance. For several years the boy pard of Buf- falo Bill, he afterward became his private secretary and areveies with the great scout all ever Europe. Mr. Canfield is now landlord of the Sheridan Inn at Sheridan, Wyoming.—Tue AvuTHoR. f i} Sherman Canfield, a Nebraskian, had come to New York on business that was detain- ing him there for months, and the friend of Walter Vanderlip, the bachelor owner of the mansion, had been persuaded by that gentleman to live there during his forced absence, while he had also become the ally of New York Nat and his Ferrets, who communicated only through him with the chief of the Secret Service, keeping their identity wholly unknown to all else. To the chief Nat was known only as the Unknown Detective, and every effort of the regular force, detectives and police, had been thus far unable to solve the mystery regarding him and how he obtained the very valuable information he was constantly sup- plying the chief with, for Sherman Uanfield was sworn to secrecy. With a key to the handsome bachelor quarters where Canfield dwelt, Nat felt per- fectly at home there, and no matter what his disguise, was accustomed to enter unan- nounced day or night, in fact there -was a room kept there always at his disposal. Entering the library Nat found there two gentlemen engaged in earnest conversation. One was a fine-looking young man of twenty-five or six, a blond, with a striking face and expressive blue eyes, while he was in dressing-gown, smoking-cap and slippers that were very becoming. The other was the stranger who had ac- costed him in the street and so startled iF \ Sherman Canfield looked up quickly and surprised at the entrance of an apparent stranger, but quickly caught the signal of Nat that told him who he was, enabling him to penetrate his disguise at once, for he was accustomed to seeing the young Ferret in all manner of costumes. “Ah, Mr. Chandler, Iam glad to see you —my friend Mr. William Palmer, of Texas, and of whom you have heard me speak,” Mr. Palmer arose and in his courtly way shook hand warmly with Nat, not suspect- ing, in his disguise, that he had seen him little over an hour before. Nat expressed pleasure at seeing him, and _. took a seat, with his back to the light said: - Mr, Palmer, and that you visited him upon his fine ranch in Texas, as also that he’was uite a hero in the Lone Star State, as an ndian-fighterand captain of Ranch Rangers.” **Ah, Canfield, you have been covering me with glory it seems, for my heroism con- sisted only in protecting my cattle from redskins and keeping my home from being robbed by Mexican raiders across the Rio Grande, while my captaincy is over some score of ranchmen like my self, banded to- gether for mutual protection—that is all, Mr. Chandler.” - “You are too modest for a tenderfoot, Will; but about what you were speaking to me about, let me tell you that this is the very gentleman into whose hands I was going to intrust your case.” ‘* Indeed! as I understood you it was a very young man, who was a detective.” ‘*True, and this is the one. ‘‘Shall I tell him why you have come to New York?” yt “Certainly, for I am a good deal of a stranger here, Sherman, and came to you for advice and aid.” ‘*-You shall have it, and more, I can almost pledge you that when my friend here under- takes your case he will »win. See here, Chandler, Palmer, as I told you, is a Texan and a ranchman, and has come to New York on a most important affair and you are the man to help him ” Ihave met Mr, Palmer before and owe him a debt of gratitude, not to speak of his being your friend.” ‘Yes, Mr. Canfield, you have told me of “(T will be glad_to do so, sir, especially as
Page 4
New York Nat Trapped. ‘You have met m2 before?” asked Will Palmer* in great surprise. ‘“Yes, sir; but first to your mission to New York, and then 1 will explain?” an- swered Nat with a smile. **TIt is told in a nut-shell. “ea “One of my neighbors was a Mexican An with an American wife, and a most beautiful ol daughter. ‘The Mexican was said to be very rich, ee but the truth of whether he was or not no " one knew. ** He was very unpopular with his neigh- bors, while his wife and daughter were bs loved by all who knew them. ‘“*Some months ago there came to our ¥ | country, from Chicago it was said, a hand. i some fellow with apparently plenty of a money, ‘‘He was a fascinating fellow, said he in- tended to live there, and did buy a ranch and cattle but did not pay for them, it now turns out, : “The young lady I spoke of, having re- nl fused a score of us fellows, fell desperately By in love with this stranger, and two months ago eloped with him. “Then it turns out that Don Felipe Maxi- mo, her father, was murdered that same Bee rch night, the mother wounded dangerously with y a knife, and the Mexican’s money, and other ee riches in jewels, which he kept buried, were £ stolen. ) , ‘As the stranger had never paid for his wi ' ranch or cattle, and the murder of Maximo Bea's, and wounding of his wife took place the Be night he left, suspicion turned upon him, a and was added to by Mrs. Maximo’s mut- we tered words: **¢T know the murderer and the robber— a God help my poor child.’ ; ‘Now, Mr. Chandler, I am here on the track of that man.” oi, CHAPTER. V, NAT’S PLEDGE.’ ‘New York Nar listened with deep atten- Age tion to the young Texan's strange story. ae First, he was glad to find out that he had au not a foe in Will Palmer, as he had feared, +i and then he was pleased with the knowledge by that’ he was one of Sherman Canfield’s friends, and he could serve him, while he was also glad to get the case that was put in his hands. \ So he asked quietly: ‘““What was the name of the man, Mr. Palmer?” ‘ gin? ‘«He was known to us as Leonard Long.” ‘‘Had you any reason to suspect that he was crooked while he was there?” ‘‘None whatever, though he was generally disliked by the young men; but that was be- _/ cause he won Myrtle Maximo’s' love, and cut with the rest. ‘One young rancher went so far as to pick a quarre] with him, challenge him to fight a diel, and got killed as a result.” ‘*Tt was in a cougtry of ranches?” ‘* Yes, with a little village about the cen- ter of half a hundred good ranches.” ‘* Where did Mr. Long live while there?” Tas ‘“At the tavern, in the village, where he ‘ye had the very best the place afforded.” elope with the girl and not be caught, es- pecially as he was suspected of a double murder?” ‘ q ' ‘He bad planned well, the young lady going to visit at a ranch miles away. ‘*Maximo and his wife were murdered ing that Long had come there, and been told N. J., but a Vir- * William B. Palmer of Newark nian by birth, ¢ West and South us all out, for I confess I was smitten along. eae ‘‘Was it not strange that he was able to— early in the evening, a servant woman stat-_ by them to go and bring Myrtle home, for it was a beautiful moonlight night. ‘* There was a fandango on the ranch that night, at the cowboys’ quarters, and the ser- vant girl I spoke of had gone there, leaving old Maximo and his wife alone, and so the murder was not discovered until the return of the servants just before dawn, when they found the house open, the Jights all burn. ing. ‘*Then the news spread rapidly, and when sent after it was found that Myrtle had left for home about ten o’clock with Leonard Long. ‘« They had by that time over twelve miles’ start, and were tracked to the Rio Grande the next day, but a rain-storm had washed out all traces, and not then being suspected of more than eloping with the girl, there was no further pursuit. ** It was as days woreon that he was sus- pected, when the ‘robbery was discovered, and the cften-repeated words of Mrs. Maxi- mo, who still lies in a critical state. ‘* Then it was remembered that several of the rauchers’ homes had been robbed by some mysterious person, of gold and jewels, several men with large sums of money bad been held up at night by a masked horseman and forced to deliver up all they had of vaJue, and in three instances where resistance had followed thedemand, they had been shot dead and been left lying in the trail. ‘* Who this mysterious masked horseman was no one could discover, but after Leo nard Long’s flight many thought that he was the man, for his size, hair and general appearance were the same as his,” ‘““ And why did you come to New York in search of him instead of going to Chicago?” ‘* That was on account of sone of my own detective work, for in going over his rooms in the tavern I found two slips of paper, here they are, aud one simply gives the’h a hotel in this city, the name having been burned off, while the other has the words: ‘«* Address to the same old number in Union Square, and believe me as ever, ‘* «Yours fraternally, *** Lucas Swirt, ** ‘of the D—— Va.’” and handing the two slips of paper to New York Nat to read, Will Palmer continued: ““T also went to the postmaster of the village in my Secret Service work and he told me, after close questioning, that he remem. bered that Long’s letter’s came regularly, one each week, and they always bore the New York post-mark, and he only wrote to one person, and that one was in New York, but he could not recall the name, ‘*T then wrote down a dozen names for him to look over and he at once hit upon the one I have mentioned—Lucas Swift. ‘Upon this I decided to come to New York, for at a meeting of the ranchmen I was selected to try and find Long, and ff guilty bring bim back for trial. ‘*] have told my friend Canfield, as I have told you, Mr, Chandler, and I asked him to direct me to a good detective agency here, and he spoke of a young friend of his who was not connected with the regular force, but whocould find my man if anyone could, and fortunately you just then came in; but you say that we have met before?” ‘ First tell me, Mr. Palmer, if you have a photograph of your man?” _. ** Unfortunately I bave not, but here is a perfect description of him which I wrote down, giving his peculiarities as well.” ‘*Thank you,” said Nat taking the paper, and then he added: “Yes, Mr. Palmer, I will undertake to | find Leonard Long, and more, 1 will pledge you that I will do so.” ‘* That is a bold statement, Mr. Chandler.” ‘*It is one I mean—I pledge to find your man,” was the determined response of New York Nat, ddress of | I warned several hours ago of a seemin | Palmer heard the two men TEP RNR RAST ies SORES ART ET Ee or) a a OR nse: ee asl CHAPTER VI. A DOUBLE DUTY. ‘‘Ir you have his pledge he will do it,” Will,” said Sherman Canfield when Nat had spoken, and it flashed through the mind of the ally of the young Ferret Captain that he had made some discovery through seeing the slip of paper that caused him to make the pledge. **Somehow I believe that you will,” said Will Palmer thoughtfully, and he added: ‘* And I want you to call upon me for all aid 1. can render, for Iam here to stay until Leonard Leong is found and known to be guilty or innocent. - ‘«The ranchmen made up a liberal purse’ aie to pay all expenses, and if that goes I have yes a generous bank account of my own, so command me for what sums are needed, while let me tell you that toere is a rewurd ene offered by the State, another by the county and a third by the citizens for the murderer iad A of Maximo, and the other murders I spoke ea of, and these will be an incentive for better a work by the detectives. 4 ** Now tell me what I can do to add you, but first let me know where we have met be- fore?’ ; ‘*You will let me swear you to secrecy? “ Certainly.” ; ‘* And then, in aiding me in detective work ti you will be governed by me?” : ‘* Assuredly, for I am a tenderfoot in the work here.” Nat quietly took off his coat and turned it, drew from his poeket his other hat, shut up his telescopic cane and pocketed it, and then removed quickly his gray wig and spectacles, while he straightened his formto es accustomed erect way of holding him- self. ‘** By the Star of Texas! you are the youth ” plot to down you!” cried the amaze Texan. ‘‘T am, sir, New York Nat!” ‘Canfield, I meant to tell you about it, only my own affairs were first talked over, ‘*] jumped, into a hack to come here, but ~ before the driver left the stand, I wrotea. card and sent him back to the hotel toget my cane from my room, and seated inthe — carriage I overheard the conversation of two _ men who halted there and discovered this _ young man, who stood just across the street, ‘*As I did not wish him to be trapped, when the men walked away I crossed over : and told him, and only to think heis your = detective, and that we should meet in your house.” “Thad you shadowed here, sir, for I was not sure you were not trapping me, while, acting upon your information | went to the St. James, changed my colors and saw the two men, and Face have one of my boys shadowing them.” | has ** Are they detectives?” i ‘‘They may be, sir.” . . ‘*Come, Nat, you know who the men are?” said Sherman Canfield with a smile. hi ‘* Well, sir, as I know Mr, Palmer to bea © friend now, in fact, as he is one of us, soto speak. I will read you this letter, and tell — you how I reccived it.” _ x Then Nat read the warning communica- — tion, which had been left for him at Freckles’s newsstand, and which he had shown to Olive, © ‘and he added: ne Pre much valuable information,” Sherman ¢ field remarked. | _ “Tt may be, sir, but I doubt it, for | say as sh D RSeE ARS ee he
Page 5
I Sa ae a ST ET a = : ee by New York Nat Trapped. , 5 ing had been sent me, and I was doomed if | nearness to the graveyard giving rise to these | and the agent told him that this was the I did not heed it, rumors. room where the young girl had been mys- ‘“Now if those two men are detectives Surrounded by a high brick wall, the foot | teriously murdered three years before, no it is in the interest of crime not against | of man was believed never to trespass in the clue to her murderer ever having been it,” spooky grounds, and yet Nat, watching that | found. Ag manly no one was in sight, leaped over into the ‘As you say you are not superstitious, ye *‘ They are,in my opinion, though I never yard and disappeared among the shadows of | and don’t mind the stories about the house,” ; saw them before, sporty crooks, that is, men | the dense foliage, said the agent, ‘‘I will tell you that the first who are playing the gentleman, but for their Approaching the rambling old inansion he ; owner of the house was also killed here, or een own game. took a key from his pocket and entered b rather it was supposed took his own life, and ‘“‘Somewhere, I do not recail now when | the cellar-door, which he unlocked, there was a servant who worked here also and where, I have heard the name on this All was darkness within, but strange steps | died under mysterious circumstances, and jets slip of paper given me by Mr. Palmer,” were heard rapidly descending the stairs, | these happenings have given the place’a bad 2 ** Lucas Swift?” ‘ and as Nat passed into tke hall he saw in the | name, so that I cannot rent it even though I ‘4 “Yes, sir, and you observe that he signs | dim light the form of an enormous dog, offer it at fifty dollars a month, furnished.” a imply that he and Leonard Long belonged | as he laid his hand.upon the head of the | wish to open a school of music here, I will to pe 2 Sa ap or band, while he adds | savage brute, and going up-stairs, the dog | pay you three months in advance, and close “of the D. Vs,’ “ , ‘* Now, the warning sent to me was from the Desperado Vampires, and is it a coin- cidence, or is it that Lucas Swift and Leon- ard Long are D. Vs., whatever that may mean, as these two men Mr, Palmer warned me against this morning certainly are,” “Nat, again I say you are a wonder,” said Sherman Canfield. “Indeed, you are, for your reascning is most convincing, and after all Leonard Long may be one of this band of Vampires, who go about the country living upon others, and who have their headquarters in New York.” “Yes, Mr. Palmer, that is my idea of it, and while tracking down your man I may be doing double duty in ferreting out the Desperado Vampires; but let me say to you | now that you must disguise yourself while in New York if you seek success.” ** Disguise myself, but how can I?” ** Most readily. **Get glasses with plain glass in them, change your style of dress, your hat, and allow your beard to grow, keeping in your | mused. hotel until it is a week or ten days old, and ‘You have indeed been a home to me, trotted close at his heels. the bargain at once,” said Nat in his ener- Reacning the third floor, Nat entered a | getic way, and having pocketed the money large room that had the appearance of a/the agent said to himself, with a grim lodge chamber, for a table was there, a lamp, | smile: “If he don’t. see ghosts there he'll be his name ‘ yours fraternally,’ and that would ** Always on the watch, Guard,” be said, ‘*T will take it, sir, for it suits me, and I a The windows were closed up so that no | lucky, for the house is certainly under a ban two chairs and a number of benches, light could shine out, and only the skylights | of ill omen.” in the roof of the house enabled him to see his way. CHAPTER VIII. THE GATHERING OF THE CLAN. Opening into the assembly-room was a smaller one, and this was well-furnished, for the house had not been stripped of its ancient furniture. From the house he had just rented New York Nat returned to the home of Mrs. Her- bert, where his sister boarded, and he took his meals, with remarkable irregularity, how- ever, and going up to Olive’s room, he said: ‘* Well, sis, 1 have news for you?” ‘« What.is it, Nat?” ‘‘Tam going tomove.” — . ‘* You dread to remain longer in the Rook- ery, after that letter, then?” ‘“* Yes, though my place of abode may not be spotted, but New York Nat certainly is, as I have found out to-day other than through that letter.” ‘But, Nat, where can you move?” *‘Tli tell you, and though. the place is known as the House of Ill Omen it was a lucky thought of mine to go there, while one who has- lived in a vault and an old rookery said to be haunted by ghosts, gob- lins, spooks, and I know by bitter memories and rats, should not be over particular about a place that has another unsavory reputa- tion.’ si “‘Then it has a hard name, too?” “You shall be the judge,” and Nat told the stories about the house, and added: ‘Here is my key and my receipt for three months’ rent. y eet ‘ca ‘*T stepped in as I came up to see a lock- smith and he is to put me a new spring lock. on the door, and fit to it half a dozen keys, and from other men of the trade I can get other keys made until I have one for you and each member of the clan. ins _‘*T also bought some bedding and a few This room was evidently still used as a bed-chamber and adjoining it was a room where there was a fire-place, some cooking utensils, a table and chairs. Some one dwelt there, and whoever it was cared nothing for the haunting memories hovering wbout the old rookery, ; Standing in the bedroom, New York Nat glanced about him for a minute, a sad light settling upon his face, ““ Well, old_ home, we have got to part company, forI have got to leave you,” he my word for it that your most intimate | and the gtosts the superstitious peopled you friend seeing you now would not recognize | with never have bothered me. you then.” ‘If Iam known as New York Nat it will SEPSIS AGS | Ls Coe | gem not be safe to remain hereunder any name or _**Come here as my guest, Will, for I can disguise, so go I must. make you most comfortable and you will be ‘* But where?” right on hand to be of service if Nat needs For a long while he pondered and then said you, thoughtfully: “Til do that too, Sherman, and thank| [could go back to the first home I had here, in the large vault in the adjoining grave- yard, but then the boys would not like that, for they always stood in awe of going there, and I guess most of them will be glad that [ have to moye from here, for they were al- ways looking for spooks when they came. ‘“* But where to go is the question—ah! I have it, for I will still keep up my name for loving old rookeries that are baunted, and go to that large old mansion near Central Park where several persons have been’ murdered and which can be rented cheap, yes, at one fourth its value, , other things needed, and they will be sent “Tt is secluded, vacant lots are opposite, | at a certain hour to-morrow, when I will be and it is convenient, there, while the boys will move me down to- ‘“* | have noticed it often, and I have heard } night.” ; that it was furnished, even to a piano, and | ‘* You will stay there to-night, Nat?” belongs to a rich woman whose daughter “Ob, yes, Guard and I, and to-morrow I’IL was killed there, so that she will never enter | make myself comfortable, with your aid, it aghin. and you'll find a piano there and can come — ‘“*T will go down at once to see the agent, | and play on it all you please, as well as your pay him several months in advance, get the | guitar and banjo, for you must know I am ey, and the boys can help me move in to- |, to be known as Professor Herman Spinola. you. And: so it was arranged that Will Palmer should go to the hotel and send his trunk up to the house, becoming Sherman Can- _ ‘field’s guest. Now, Nat, what about that warning?” asked Canfield. “‘Tam going to have a special meeting to- night, sir, and we will seek other quarters, for Lam not going to let them catch me napping, and if they know who New York ‘Nat is they will not see him around very soon, so will suppose they have run him out of town,” and Nat laughed lightly as he arose to depart. ep CHAPTER VIL, - THE HOUSE OF ILL-OMEN, _. Tre sky was overcast when Nat left the house of Sherman Canfield and rain was threatening. f He took the Elevated railroad up-town and got off ata station where the town was little built-up, and where several ola time mansions were yet to be seen. | _ One of these, situated in a growth of large _ trees, and with large grounds about it upon three sides, a long deserted graveyard being upon the fourth, could hardly be seen on ac- count of the dense foliage about it, the orna- ‘mental trees and hedges being overgrown. _ The old. mansion had a bad name, as hav- ae a ng been the scene of-several murders and | was fully furnished, ‘‘Why, you should have heard my broken ‘tragic deeds, and the story was believed by | In one of the bedrooms was a dark stain | English to the agent, and I have ordered a. any that it was haunted, its history and | that had never been washed from the floor, | sign painted which reads: Bina Saag Get on to my make up, sis, agd do vou not So saying Nat quickly left the old rook- | observe that 1 speak with a foreign accent,” ery, and within an hour he was ascending | and Nat having rigged up with his iron- the steps of a fine old residence, five stories | gray wig, spectacles, and a false hump on ~ high, and upon the front door of which some | his shoulders, looked every inch a German one had written, with chalk, in large letters: Orie Sea as ‘cs = '“ Nat, you are such a fraud when you Beem Hopes, om, tit. OMEN want to Bs you even deceive me,” said Nat found the dust of long disuse and | Olive. %, neglect upon everything, but the furniture, ‘«)’'m glad, for then I can deceive any one though worn was handsome, and the house | if I escape your bright eyes. } night, without any fuss.”
Page 6
peas Sa " ¢ ~~. ne q i ¥ 4 my . «* PRoFESSOR HERMAN. SPINOLA. «¢* THACHER OF VOCAL AND INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC— *** Piano, Guitar, Violin, Flute and Banjo a Specialty. ‘* * Lessons from 9 to 12 A. M. 2 to 5. P. M.’ ** Olive, that sign will paralyze you when you see it on my door.” **Oh, Nat! I know that you play all the instruments you have named, but you play by ear and do not know a note of music.” ** My dear sis, don’t get frightened, for it is easy enough to refuse any real pupils who might apply, and you, in different disguises seen entering my school of music, and the gang, will serve as make-believe pupils. ‘You play the piano and violin, I drum on half a dozen instruments, Parson plays several, Flip is a banjoist; half a dozen of the boys sing, so do you, and between us all we can let the neighbors know that there is aschool of music in the House of II] Omen, while I wiil, in Professor Herman Spinola, sink New York Nat and thus have dodged my shadowers.” ‘* Nat, you are right, as you always are, and no better place cr plan could have been hit upon. ** Yes, get the boys to move you down to-night, and to-morrow 1 will come in and make you comfortable in your new quar- ters, and let me add that I feel greatly re- lieved now that you can elude those horrid Desperado Vampires, and Guard will bea protection to aed new home.” ‘*Oh, yes, I can teach him to how! while I run the school, and people going by will think he is some fashionable dude singing classical music,”’ Olive laughed at Nat’s criticism of classical music, and the two went out together to the bank and sat looking at the sunset beyond the Palisades, and the vessels gliding up and down the broad waters of the grand old Hudson. The tinkling of a bell called them in to supper, where Mrs. Herbert had a most tempting repast set out for them, and which both enjoyed as they were blessed with good appetites: Soon after supper the brother and sister left the cottage together, Olive enveloped in “a long cloak, and wearing a flesh mask over her face, as to not one of the band had she ever revealed herself, as Nat deemed it best that she should not be known to any one of the Ferrets other than as their Girl Queen, and the Masked Mascot, and no one ever know her as she really was. Reaching the wall they passed over it into the grounds, the rain, which had begun falling at night fell, pattering dismally upon the leaves, while the old Rookery loomed up before them black, silent and gloomy, look- ing indeed like the abode of spooks. Entering the cellar door_and ascending the stgirs they found some of the Ferrets already there and others soon began to drop in by twos and tkrees, for, brave as they were, the boys did not care to venture alone in the Haunted House, as the place was known in the neighborhood. ‘CHAPTER IX, THE ‘‘ UNKNOWNS.” THE gathering was a queer one, made up as it was of all classes, conditions, sizes and types of New York youths and boys, from wharf-rats to newsboys and bootblacks, bell: boys and messengers, sharpers and toughs -of a juvenile kind. And this Clan had been splendid material to work with just as they were being work- sed. : True as steel to their Clan and comrades, New York Nat Trapped. devoted to their chief, with pride in their League, rejoicing that they were keeping their secret from the police, and out-doing the detectives at their own game, they were glad to remain unknown and work sud rosa. They loved their Girl Queen, to them un- known, and had harm befallen’ her, they would have considered it a blow they could never recover from. Though many of them looked untidy and wore patched clothing, they were conscious in the knowlecge that they each one had a bank account ranging up among the bun- dreds, and that their treasury, the strong-box of their League, held thousands of dollars, theirs on equal terms, while the uncollected rewards the chief of the Secret Service kept in his keeping, subject to the demand of his’ ‘*Unknown Ferrets,” through Sherman Can- field, ranged up to a very large figure. Wild horses could not have dragged their secret from them, and they were true to their oath of allegiance, their chief, their Girl Mas- cot, and themselves. Such was the Unknown Detective Clan of youths that gathered in the assembly-room of the old Rookery, where their captain, New York Nat, had so long had his home. Taking one of the seats behind the table, while Olive took the other, New York Nat called the meeting to order, and then the Girl Queen began to call the roll. There was not oneabsent. Then ‘‘ reports ” were the next in order, and each one that had anything tosay of any discovery he had made, arose and had his say, Olive jotting it down. Tken ‘‘ accounts”’ were goné over, the weekly salaries paid, for each one was al- lowed so much for living expenses, and they were asked if tiey needed sny more for any special duty on hand. Accounts were never disputed, for each and all were implicitly trusted. The business of the meeting being over with, New York Nat arose and said in his quiet, yet impressive way : ‘*Comrades, you are called together for a special reason other than the work that has just been gone through with. ‘«That reason is a letter which I will read to you, and which will tell you that some one outside of the band knows me as New York Nat. ‘Other clans might at once suspect a traitor in our midst, but such a thought never will enter the head of any one of our comrades whois true to himself and our League. ‘*In some way I have been spotted, and I am glad that I am the one instead of you. ‘* | have read this letter to our ally, through whom | make my reports to the chief of the Secret Service, and he agrees with me that this is no longer a safe place for us, ‘*He held the idea that the letter might have come from some Detective Agency who were envious of us, and I held at first to the same opinion. ‘*But I have changed my views, and be- lieve it comes from a band of crooks who play the detective upon detectives to protect themselves, who have a band of shadowers shadowing the officials to escape the clutches of the law for their crimes, “ They have discovered our League in some way and there is but one way for us to do. “We must fight the Devil with fire, and not wait for but set to work at once to find who this secret foe is. . “That is the main duty now of the band, and I will give you also a side issue to work upon as well, and one which will pay well in rewards if we unearth it; but the line of work for this duty is not yet mapped outforyou. | ‘* Our first step is to move from here. ‘* We must not be caught napping.” Nat paused for he saw that his words created a decided sensation. re about us to be discovered, © Move from the Rookery yes, was in every mind, But move where and when, was the next thought. ‘* [have already found a place and a good one, and we move to-night. ‘* Each one of you can take something with him when he goes, and carry it to our new haunt. ‘*T will soon join you and show you where to place the things.” ‘**Parson will have the key to let you in, and each one will be admitted with his bun- die as he arrives, and wait there for my com- ing. ‘*T will have keys for all of you to-mor- row, so that you can come in as here, and there will be quarters there for you to sleep when caught out. **T have rented the house furnished, pay- ing three months in advance, with privilege of a year and lounger, for the agent is glad to rent it, as it, like this, has the name of being haunted. “Some of you know it as the House of II} Omen. ‘*As New York Nat I will be ever known to you, but there I am Professor Herman Spinola, teacher of vocal and instrumental music. ‘Now, comrades, gather our belongings - together, the Queen showing you what you are to take, and here is the address of our new home, and I will read you the letter of warning, as well for you to consider, and then an are to go on the hunt for the Des- perado Vampires.” The letter was read, the address was given of the House of Ill Omen, and while the boys were getting together their separate bundles, New York Nat called Parson aside and said: ** Now, to know about the two sports you shadowed to-day.” CHAPTER X, THE SHADOWER’S REPORT. ‘«THEY were hard ones"to shadow, Cap’n Nat, for they not only had their eyes on everybody else, but were always on the alert for any one who might be watching them,” . said Parson. ‘*T saw that, and I knew your task was not an easy one; but tell me what you dis- covered ?” ‘* Well, they played the game at CO——’s for an hour, and one changed a one-hundred, the other a fifty, to get the V to put on the cards, and though the dealer did not notice the money, as he had plenty more billsof the same amount, it struck me that their money was queer.” ‘““No doubt of it; but did they win or lose?” ‘‘The tall man lost all the time, the little man won, and his winnings were double the losses of the other.” _ “So that with the counterfeit money and the winnings of the one they came out well ahead ?” ‘** Yes, some hundreds.” ** And then?” fi ‘They left the place and I followed them. “They got a drink in the Sturtevant House and then taking a cab drove up-town and stopped at a fashionable flat house, keep- ing their cab waiting. : **T sprung the telegraph dodge on the janitor, and found that they were visiting a rich young swell who lived there, and his. — name is Benedict Mildmay.” ue Nat jotted down the name and the ad- ~ dress of the apartment house and then — asked: ee: ‘Where did they go from there, Parson?” a3 “They drove down to Union Square and ~ went in to Tiffany’s, being there half am hour, Aaa ‘'Then they took another cab, for no other — ‘ 7 ty Eg:
Page 7
New York Nat Trapped. reason that I could see than to throw any one off their track, but 1 got the number of the cab they left, and the other one too.” “Good! ‘* Where-did they go?” “* Down to Chatham Square, and when they got out of their cab they had changed their rig, different hats, coats turned, even their pants, one wore spectacles, the tall man had no beard, the little man had whiskers, and I tell you it was an old dodge, Cap’n Nat, but it was the slickest and best change I ever saw, for I would have sworn the tall man’s beard was not false. “‘They looked like sporty gents when they entered the cab and came out the picture of Bowery toughs.” : ** Did they not suspect you, or see you?” fr **Oh, I had not been idle in changes, and I had employed two carriages, a one horse cab, and a two horse hack, one to follow the £ other, oes ‘When they left their cab I changed He also, and I drove by them on their way down into the slums. * ‘*T saw them halt a policeman, and whether My he knew their racket or not I cannot say, but they gave him some money I'll swear to.” ** You should have gotten his number.” ‘* Here it is, and l’ve got his face photo/ graphed in my mind.” ‘*Good for you.” ‘*When I got out of my hack I had changed too, for I had turned my clothes, and that makes a sailor rig you know. ‘*T had put on a wig, too, bronzed my face by the glass in the hack, and with my sea cap looked very little like the one they had seen in the gambling saloon. ‘**Of course they did not suspect one of my youth of shadowing them.” “There is our strong point—we are boys really, but old men when we wish to so dis- guise ourselves. “You tracked them to their den?” “* Not exactly. “They went into a saloon, here is the ad- dress, and after waiting some time for them to come out, I went in also. _ “*There were a dozen men there, but those two had gone, but they had not passed out ' by the door.” ‘The saloon is the entrance to their den then.” . ‘** So I took it, as after a couple of hours’ waiting there they did not come out. **T ordered drinks and cigars right along, treating the landlord each time, read the pa- pers, and told him I was waiting for a friend. ‘‘He asked me if I was just home from a cruise, and said that he had good rooms up- stairs, but I dared not ask about the two men.” ‘You did right, and that will come later.” “* Of course I threw the drinks in the spit- toon, and the cigars I gave to a fellow in the telegraph office whom I do not like, “That's all I can tell you, Nat, but I’ go there again whenever you wish.” “‘T may wish you {°; but to-morrow look up those cabmen and see if they were not paid in counterfeit money.” SE will,” “Also go to Tiffany’s, show a detective badge, and find out what those fellows were é doing there.” af Yes,” A “And report to me at the new quarters to-morrow night, if I do not see you during the day at the office. _ “ Now you know the House of Ill Omen, here is the key, so go there, taking a lantern and let the boys in as they arrive, for I will see the Girl Queen home and soon join you,” “All right, I'll be on hand when you come, and it’s a good night to move it is ‘storming so and no one will be out that is +4 in tetany Sy X ee ‘ ri a Sor PS LS) \ hat = SS Se ee ee nn ee ee ee een not forced to be,” and seeing that the boys were all ready Parson called out: ‘“* All ready.” + The Ferrets saluted their Girl Mascot, shouidered their bundles and left the Rook- 1 ery, While New York Nat and Olive soon | followed, Guard accompanying them, and | seeming surprised at being allowed to go out into the open air, while the young Fer- ret chief said: ‘This old Haunted House has been my home so long I leave it with real regret, sis,” CHAPTER XI; GUARD AS A FERRET. ' New York Nar folded their storm coats closely around them and faced the fury of the pelting raix without flinching. It was quite a long walk to the cottage, and a rough one, for the streets not being improved there, the lamps were very seldom seen and the way a hard one. But the cottage was reached and then Nat bade Olive good-night to be suddenly called back with the remark: “Nat, I would not be a woman if I did not forget something, and I left my cash-bag on the table in the Rookery; but give me the key and I will get it to-morrow on my way to your new quarters.” “No, sis, l’ll get it when I come up to supper to-morrow, for it will be safe I guess —good-night,” and Nat walked away with Guard trotting close by his side. ‘* Somehow I have a feeling that we moved just in time; so I guess I’ll go by and get the cash-bag now, for I can find my way without a lantern, and there is more money in it than we care to lose, should the Rookery be in- vaded. “Come, Guard, we'll pay a farewell visit to our old home,” and Nat walked more briskly along. As he reached the iron gateway to the grounds Guard suddenly uttered a low growl. ‘* Ah! what’s wrong, old dog?” Over the wall Guard plunged and it took a stern command from Nat to bring him back, : Leaping over the wall then, Nat saw that Guard had struck a trail. It led toward the mansion and was evi- dently a very fresh one, made since he and Olive had passed out, or the dog could not have followed it in the rain, ‘* What, so soon? ATO ‘““We were just in time,” muttered Nat, and holding on to Guard’s collar he allowed him to lead him on. The dog went slowly and silently, and at last reaching the mansion went up the front steps to the porch, instead of by way of the cellar. ‘* Ah! this is it, is it? ‘*None of the Ferrets come this way, and more, Guard would not have tracked them— no, strangers are here, and how many, and who they are remains to be seen, for I'll know who is shadowing us.” The last words were uttered in a determin- ed way, and then Nat was surprised to see Guard suddenly poke bis head through the door, ‘ | ‘A lower panel had been cut out, and the space made was large enough to admit a man’s form. ** Well, Guard, we will go in and investi gate, for we know the old house in the dark as well as any strangers do. j : “Tf it’s a game of hide-and-seex, we can play it, 1 guess.” So said New York Nat, and taking the re- volver he always carried in a hip pocket, he prints in his hand and slipped through the panel, i ‘ Then he called Guard through, and hold- ing the dog by the collar he moved slowly and silently toward the stairs, f | He listened attentively, but heard no sound on the floors above that were of a super- stitious nature, though the wind howled without, and caused noises that would have | been weird and uncanny to those who did / not understand the cause. Then he started up-stuirs, but this Guard | strenuously objected to. | The dog had his nose bent to the floor, and | sniffed awav in a manner that seemed to say | that New York Nat might go by sight and sound, but he was guided by scent, and in that particular line could outscent the fer- ret. | **Town that way, are they, Guard?” whis- | pered Nat, and a low whine was the answer, ! and the dog wished to push on. | ‘Well, old fellow, 1 suppose you know : best, and can give me a pointeron trailing in | the dark, so here goes, for I wish to find out who it is that is shadowing me, and if there ‘are two or three of them, we stand as much chance in the dark as they do—keep quiet, will you, for Tam going to take your ad- vice.” Still holding hard to the dog’s collar with one hand, and grasping his revolver with the | other, New York Nat moved along, Guard being his guide through the darkness. Coming to the head of the stairs leading to | the basement, the dog began the descent te the hall below. Across this hall, on the left, New York , Nat knew that there was a door leading into the large cellar, which had a door leading outside, and to which he and the members of the clan had keys. The cellar was where coal, wood and vegetables had been stored by the former inmates of the house, but was only a vast, empty basement now, while on the other side of the basement hall was the kitchen, | servants’ dining-room, and several sleeping- room; but in that part of the house Nat had seldom gone. ; broken panel in the front door and Guard’s behavior seemed proof that there were, then they could only be in in the Jarge cellar-way or up-stairs. The door opening into the cellar opened easily, having no lock or latch, and as Nat : gently opened it only the slightest sound was made, But the sound was heard and a voice said in a low tore which Nat distinctly heard: ‘* Hark! ‘He is coming, so be on your guard, and remember, no mercy!” CHAPTER XII. THE DEATH-STRUGGLE IN THE DARK. Tue words uttered by the man whom he | could not see, to a confederate also wholly unseen in the midnight gloom, were dis- tinctly heard by New York Nat. He slso placed the man by the sound as standing before one side of the cellar-door, side This was proof that he had been shadowed. to the old Rookery and it was known that he entered and left by the cellar-door. At another time Nat would have suspect- 'ed that the men were legitimate detectives, | or the police, and be would quiet!y have re- | traced his way, gotten the cash-bag and left | the Rookery without a word, me ar as he © had already moved his traps away and given | up his quarters there. But the warning letter he had receivéd, the two men whom Will Palmer had pointed out to him, and whom Parson had tracked | from the gambling saloon to the slums, | made him feel that he had not officials to deal with. Then too theremark of one of them to j i they were his shadowers, : ‘¢show no mercy” was most convincing that If there were men in the house, and the © anf his pal must surely be upon the other.
Page 8
a LE New York Nat Trapped. That they came there to put him out of the way he felt that he had proof, and the thought raised the spirit of combativeness within him, They sought him, were there to show no mercy, and he would fight it out let it be war to the bitter end. He congratulated himself if there were two against him he was conscious of their presence, and they would be the surprised ones, not he. ‘ Then the comradeship of Guard was most assuring. That he knew the ground well was an- other thing thing in his favor: Guard was trembling violently, and anx- ious to be allowed to attack, but he was too well trained to make a break without a word from his master and was as silent as a cat watching a mouse. That his canine eyes could see the men was a cause for envy with Nat, and he smiled at the thought in spite of the dan- ger. Determined to take advantage of all he could to protect himself, Nat quietly shoved the door far back, knowing that it would re- main open and he could fight from that vantage ground, protected by the wall on either side between the cellar and the hall Cautiously as he moved there was a slight sound which brought forth the whispered words: ‘“* He’s at the cellar door.” * You bet I wish he’d come,” came a whis- per from the other corner. ‘He'll be in soon, and we’ll flash our bull’s-eyes upon him, and pull trigger the moment he closes the door behind him,” ‘May be it hain’t him.” : ** Who is it, then?” ** Ghosts!” ** Youre a durned fool,” ‘‘IT don’t like this place, for it’s as dark as dungeon and as spooky as a graveyard.” ‘* Hush!” ‘If L didn’t have my bull’s-eye to flash a light in a minute, and the hope of getting what the young fellow’s got hid here, I wouldn’t stay for big pay, you can gamble on it.” . - “Hush, 1 say!” Just then Guard, who could control him- self no longer gave alow whine, / ‘*My God! what is that?” cried the man ‘who had spoken of spooks. ‘‘Only a ghost!” said Nat in sepulchral tone. The effect of the words was startling all around, for the men were terrified and forgot ‘to flash their bull’s-eye lanterns, one of them uttering an oath, the other a yell, while Guard believing the ball had opened uttered ' @ fierce discordant howl. And all in total darkness save a tiny gleam from one of the lanterns which had been Gropped upon the floor, But one of the men was quick to regain his nerve and he shouted: ** He’s played it on us! ** Let, bim have it!” 4& ‘A pistol flash illumined the cellar for a second and revealed the two men to Nat, while a bullet flattened against the wall near the door. . } A second shot followed the first quickly, , and it was the signal for New York Nat. to fire and he did so, aiming at the flash. § Then shots rung quickly, ha ing fired in all, and above the reports run - out a savage yelp and unearthly yellas Guard rushed in upon one of the men. The loud cry of Nat, calling the dog off, was at first unheeded, and then a silence came that was broken only by the storm ‘Taging outside. 44 Guard!” ; . The dog answered by rubbing his nose against his master’s hand, - \'* Where are they, Guard?” til a dozen be- A low whine, followed by a dismal howl was the answer. ‘* That would say that they are dead; but it was hot while it lasted, *‘T’ll_ go slow, for they are desperate fel- lows as cunning as redskins—no, you would not stay by me so readily if they were here— can they have escaped? ‘*Ah! there is the gleam of a dark-lan- tern,” and moving cautiously forward Nat took up the lantern, shaded the glass and re- treated to the hallway. Then he sprung the slides open and turned the glare into the cellar. One glance was suflicient. ~The men had not escaped; they were there on the cellar floor, CHAPTER XIII, NAT’S DOG PARD. Nat stood a moment as though unde- cided. Then he slowly approached the man lying nearest to him. , Reflecting the light in his face he gave a slight start and said: ‘*This is your work, Guard. -‘*But death came quickly—oh! it is the tall man whom I saw this morning, for these whiskers are false. ‘* Now to the other,” He crossed over to the other body and flashed the Jantern upon him. There was a bullet wound in one band, a slight one in the neck and a third in the head. The last had been the fatal shot that Nat had fired and he had aimed true each time. The man was not as he expected, ‘the com- panion seen with the other inthe moruing. But he recognized him as one who had once been a city detective and who had been dismissed for robbing one whom he had been sent to protect. ; Why he bad never been tried was a mys- tery which only his superiors could explain and that they did not do. Quickly Nat reached the two men, and he found money upon each of them, also a gold watch and chain and jewelry of some value. There was not 0 slip of paper upon either, and leaving the bodies, after laying them out decently, their hands clasped upon their breasts, he went up-stairs, Guard still keep- ing close to their heels, : A piece of furniture in the hall was drag- ged up and placed against the broken panel, and lighting his way with the dark lantern he continued on up-stairs to the vacated lodge room of the Ferret Clan, There he found the cash-bag Olive had left, and with a glance of farewell around him he hastily descended to the cellar. In spite of the storm he had a fear tbat the shots might have reached the ears of some | alert policeman, and if not, that there might be others of the band to which he was sure the two men belonged, who might be lying | in wait near by. | But death alone held sway in the cellar’ and he went to the door and with the key, which he still had, let himself out. | The storm still raged, but unheeding it he walked rapidly through the shadowed grounds, having left the lantern extinguished in the cellar, The faithful Guard trotted along at his heels, scaled the wall as he did and kept close to him until he reached an avenue where he could catch a car that would take him to the House of Il]-Omen, He saw a car coming and considered him- self fortunate, so bailing it, sprung on in front, Guard after him. ee The driver started at sight of the enormous dog and began a protest; *Howly Moses! is yer afther belayin’ | we'll carry a tiger like that same brute?” _ ‘ Here’s his fare and mine, old man,” and Nat slipped a dollar into the driver’s ready hand. ‘IT guess he kin ride, but I be not the con- ductor.” ‘‘l’ve got the match to that cart-wheel for him—call him forward.” ‘The b’aste rides thin; but say, young feller, the conducther gits the opportunity to knock-down fares when I does not, so split the cart-wheel and make it a half more to me.” Before Nat could reply the conductor came forward and Nat handed him the silver dol- lar with the remark: ‘‘ My puppy rides—keep the change.” The conductor said nothing but returned to the rear of the car while the driver re- marked: ‘“A puppy, Howly Moses! but with his father’s teeth. ‘*Be me sowl but he looks like a cross betwane a bear and a buffalo—Howly St- Patrick but his mouth is all rid with blood as I kin see by the car lamps,” “Don’t mind that, for it was only a police- man he ate up.” ‘“*Only a polaceman was it?—I does make bould to hope he's not hungry now, young feller,” ‘Oh, no, he has had a good supper, for the policeman was a large and fat man.” **Only a polaceman! only a puppy,” mut- tered the driver and with one eye upon Guard, the other upon his horses he drove rapidly on, anxious to get rid of his ugly customer, ‘‘Is yer going far with your puppy, young feller?” be asked after driving some time in silence and at a clipping pace. ‘*T leave you at the next corner.” ‘* Well, excuse me, but I’m not sorry, for your puppy hasn’t tuk his eye off o’ me for tin blissed blocks.” ‘**Good-night,” and Nat jumped off follow- ed by Guard while the driver crossed himself with thankfulness at his escape, and to the end of his run kept repeating: ** Only a perlaceman! only a puppy!” In the meanwhile Nat wenton through the — darkness and storm toward the new quar- ters. pes He did not even meet another policeman to tempt Guard’s appetite, and reaching the house he found all as dark and silent asthe grave. Opening the two doors with his pass-key he entered the hall. There was the dimmest of dim lights there, — but light enough to see the Clan of Ferrets seated and lying about, patiently awaiting his coming though getting a little alarmed at his delay. =. ; ‘* Boys, we moved not a minute too soon, for the Vampires, whoever they are, hold possession of the Rookery,” he said as he entered the house. —_——_——_— CHAPTER XIV, THE TRAGEDY MADE KNOWN, Tite words of New York Nat fell with startling effect upon the young Ferrets. Every one was all attention at once, and — giving some light, by opening wide Parson’s antern, he said: a) ~ ‘ turned for it. Li ha that saved me, for he “It was Guard here took the scent at the wall, and I followed ‘him up the front steps, where I found a panel gone from the door. ‘**That settled it, and noiter, eine ie ‘Well, boys, they were in the cellar, on each side of the door, for there were two, and I heard their words, and they told that I was to be shown no mercy, ‘©At the proper minute I chipped in, for just about five minutes there was a pal rot and monkey time down in that cellar. © 4 4 ai “The Queen left her cash-book, and I re- ae I began to recon- > one 4
Page 9
i, pe ie | sh ce { f és, > New York Nat Trapped. ‘*Guard was in it, too, and with all four feet and a mouth full of teeth, in fact he si- lenced his man while I did mine; but I had the advantage of a surprise, and also being mistaken for a ghost, while what time they had for thinking, I guess they thought Guard was the devil. “‘T found their dark-lanterns, and one.of them was the tall man I saw this morning, the other was ex-Detective Miles, who went to the bad, you remember, ‘*T found nothing on them to follow them up by, but their money—counterfeit—and jewelry—stolen—I left on them, to let the oes find it when I report it through our a . “Then you will report it, Captain Nat?” “‘ Oh, yes, Parson, as they cannot discover who killed them, and must let the coroner's jury guess at it; besides, we could not leave them there to await discovery, for who goes to the Rookery? ‘* Now the dive of oné of them Parson dis- covered for me, and there are more of a kind there, so our duty is to all hunt for some clue of the Desperado Vampires, or Detec- tives, for they are up to games they wish to get us out of the way to accomplish, for they fear us. ‘* Now, boys, we must not be downed, and you know just what to do, . “The papers to-morrow afternoon will be full of it, and you keep on the alert for every word you can pick up. ‘* Now let us get these things in shape, and then you can get for your lodging- places, for it would never do to see so many filing out of here early the first morning the house is occupied, or I would ask you to stay.” With this the men carried the traps brought from the Rookery to the places des- ignated by Nat, he having lighted several candles, for the gas was not turned on, By one o’clock he was fairly well settled and the Ferrets began to drop out two and three together, Nat promising to have their keys for them on the morrow. As the house stood on the ground space of several lots, and wus on a corner, it was separated from other residences in the block, and had the Park in front of it, so that it was the very place for the retreat of the Ferrets, and Nat congratulated himself again and again upon having secured it. As soon as the Ferrets were gone he threw himself down to rest, and in spite of another tragedy having come into his life he was soon fast asleep. But he awoke early, fed Guard, left him in charge and went out to the nearest car line and started down-town. It was still raining, but little he cared for that and ne sprung off the car near the Barrett House and went in and got his break- fast. He had made his toilet most carefully, putting on a wig of yellow hair, rather long, large gold-rimmed spectacles, a black frock coat buttoned close up to the chin, gray pants and a high hat. He certainly knew how to “ make up” most cleverly for he would have been mistaken any- where for a German student, or professof, as he looked fully thirty. In addressing the waiter he spoke in good English, but with a strong accent, and car- ried out his disguise by ordering German dishes. Then he hastened away to see Sherman Canfield, whom he found just finishing breakfast, with Will Palmer as his guest. They soon joined him in the library and Will Palmer said in his frank way: ‘* Well, you’re a dandy, Chandler—you even have the flavor of beer and pretzels about you.” “You mistake mé, sir, for some one else— I am Professor Herman Spinola,” replied oe seriously, but added, as both laughed at him. —— **But joking aside, 1am in trouble, Mr. Canfield,” ‘** What is it, my dear boy?” said Canfield in a serious tone. **T will tell you, sir, and as Mr. Palmer is now one of us, he can hear too, ‘ You will have to go to see the chief at once, Mr. Canfield, for there is a case for a coroner up at the Rookery, in fact two of them, one being, Mr. Palmer, the tall man you warned me against yesterday.” And Nat told the story of his change of quarters and of the midnight tragedy in the Haunted House. CHAPTER XY. THE CHIEF AND HIS ALLY, TuE chief of the Secret service had given orders that Mr Sherman Canfield was always to be promptly admitted to his private quarters whenever he should call. He had reason to know that Canfield was generally the bearer of important informa- tion to him, as the ally of the detective whom the chief always spoke of as his ‘‘ Un- known,” The chief was a handsome man, every inch a soldier in appearance, but with a kindly nature in spite of his stern face and severe profession. He was busy when Sherman Canfield called, half an hour after the story of Nat had been told, and greeted his visitor pleasantly, motioning him to a seat. The sternichief had taken a great fancy to the young Nebraskan, who reciprocated the feeling. ‘*More trouble and trouble, sorrow and sorrow, misery, suffering and crime, Canfield, every day, for see my reports are full of it. “Tt is enough to make a man’s heart cal- lous to everything; but what can I do for you?” and the chief dropped his reports and turned to Sherman Canfield, who replied: ‘** The shoe is on the other foot, chief, for I have something to do for you.” “Ah! my Unknown has been doing more good work, eh, and you are here to report?” “If by getting two criminals ready for the undertaker is good work, he has been doing that.” “Now that is abcut the best way to get rid of them. “But what is it?” ** You know the old-time mansion far up- town, known as the Haunted House and ad- joining a graveyard ?” ** Yes, thee Lockwood estate, afterwards owned by the old miser known as Miser Max and who was killed there by robbers, who in turn were brought down by my mysterious Unknown some two years ago. “I know the place and it has a weird and unenviable name, ” “It has added to its reputation asa spooky place, sir, for last night two men went there to lic in wait for one they had reason to know was to be there, and to kin him. “The Unknown turned the tables on them, and after a hot fight, aided by his dog, he killed the two crooks.” ‘“They were known to be crooks, ech?” “One you will recognize as as your ex- Ferret Miles—” “* Ah! then he has been killed eh? **T expected it, and he has merely cheated the gallows, for I had several charges against him of murder, for he went thoroughly to the bad *« My men reported that he had left town.” ‘He has now, sir,” was Sherman Canfield’s significant reply. ** There isa price due ou his head; but who was the other?” ‘*A man. the Unknown says belongs to a Secret band here which I wish to ask you about.” ** All right.” “The Unknown seems to think there is a band of crooks here divided into two cliques, “One of these are shadowers of the police and your detectives, to allow the other band to work at their trade of robbery, murder or whatever comes their way.” ‘‘A remarkable idea certainly, and one never advanced to me before. **Tell me more of this wonderful find of your friend, my Unknown,” and the chief showed deepest. interest in what he had heard, ‘*No more is yet known, sir; but m friend is convinced that there is such a band, and confidentially I will tell you that they are known as the Desperado Detectives, and the Vampires.” “* Remarkable! ‘But, continue, Mr. Canfield.” *“T said I would tell you the name in con- fidence, for Ido not c&re to have you put your men to hunt down a band under a name, which if known, might give warning of danger, and cause them to scatter.” **T shall so regard it. ‘*But my Unknown is working up the case?” “Yes, sir.” **T shall leave all to him.” ‘Tt seems that this band dread him, hav- ing in some way found out about him, and they addressed him a letter of warning to leave the city or suffer a fearful death.” ** And he?” ‘* Does not scare in the least; but is run- ning down the Vampires, and he bas proof that the men he killed last night belong to the band. **You will find upon their bodies stolen jewelry, and a lot of counterfeit money, and he has proof that one of them, with another comrade, yesterday passed counterfeit money at the St. James Cafe, upon the dealer at }——’s gambling saloon, and upon two or more hack-drivers, ‘*'These two dead men you will find in the old Rookery, and here is the key to admit you to the cellar door, while you will have to state what you please regarding the killing of the two men.” **T will simply say it was done by my men under orders, who were there to capture the crooks, and were fired upon. ‘Let my Unknown continue his good work and call unon me, through you, for all the aid I can render.” “Thank you, chief; but now I would like to ask you if you know of any one by the name of Leonard Long in the city?” ** Leonard Long—I have heard the name— is it in the Directory?” 2 *«No, sir.” The chief touched a bell, and said to the clerk who answered: ‘* Look back twenty years over the Direc- tories for the name of Leonard Long.” The clerk soon after brought in a slip of paper, upon which was written: ‘*Leonard Long—actor. ** Norr.—Disowned by his father for some mysterious reason never known. Left the city, and not since heard of. Present where- abouts unknown. Directory of 18—.” “ T recall the name and circumstance now, Canfield—come in when you can—good- morning,” and the chief turned to give orders about the dead men at the Rookery, ‘while Sherman Canfield returned to his home, where Nat awaited with Will Palmer. CHAPTER XVI. A MYSTERY OF THE HOUSE OF ILL OMEN. Tne ‘ mutual friend,” or ally between the chief of the Secret Service and the ‘‘ Un- known Ferret,” returned to his home and re- ported just what had occurred. “‘T thank you, Mr. Canfield, and now I can devote myself to Mr. Palmer’s work and the finding out of the Vampires. “We at least know that one Leonard Long did live in New York, some half a
Page 10
10 ee ee New York Nat Trapped. dozen years ago, was the son of a rich father who lived at—by the stars of night, the number is the same as my new quarters the House of Il Omen,” cried Nat suddenly as he saw the address, “A most remarkable coincidence,” said Sherman Canfield. ‘Tt is indeed. * «© To think that the man I seek should have lived in your quarters; but what is the siory of this House of Ill Omen?” Will Palmer asked. ‘** A rich man built it and lived there with his son and servants. ‘<The son left home, and while absent the father was either murdered or took his own life, one of the servants, a young girl, also dying mysteriously about the same time. ** Now it transpires that Mr. Long disin- herited his son, his property being left to charity and the present owner of the ‘place, a lady whose daughter also met a mysterious death in the place, either being murdered or taking her own life. ‘* Since then the house nas not been occu- pied and the whereabouts of the son, whose being disinherited is a mystery, no one knows.” “T wonder if it can be myman, professor?” asked Will Palmer, ‘*T will find out, for it has not been so long ago but that I can find people who knew young Leonard Long, and perbaps 1 can run across a photograph of him, or get snch a description that you will know, Mr. Palmer, whether it be the man you seek or | not.” ‘* All is in your hands, professor, and let me say that you have the cleverest way of getting aj the bottom facts of a case that I ever knew.” ‘Thanks. ** Now I must be off, for lam to get m sign up as a professor of music, and more { have lots to do, for Olive, my sister, Mr. Palmer, and our Mascot, is to meet me at the House of [11 Omen and set me in order.” Nat then took his leave, Sherman Canfield promising that he and Will Palmer would drop in and see the ‘‘ professor ” after he got settled. ‘* Yes, I wish to take lessons from you, professor, if not in music in the craft of Secret Service work, forI am very sure I could not find a cleverer teacher,” called out Palmer, as Nat left the room. When New York Nat returned to his narters he had with him the sign which he d ordered the day before and which he at once put up. Soon after Olive arrived, rigged out like a irl come for a day’s house-cleaning, and at ushered her in with considerable pride at having to show her over his new home. ‘*Here is a wagon at the door with the things I ordered, so we'll get them in, and in place, and when I have put up my sign, Olive, I have much to tell you.” __ The purchases were soon put in place, ind Oljve devoted herself to cleaning up Nat’s living rooms, and the large parlor on the second floor where the piano stood, and which though called the ‘‘music room” was to be used as the assembly quarters of the Clan, } A second and third sleeping-room were also prepared, in case of need, the kitchen put in order, should Nat care to cook his own meals at any time, and Guard was given the run of the house from cellar to gurret, but not of the yard—he had had his outing the night before, and policemen were scarce as food in that part of the city, while Nat did not know just what the ferocious beast aig 0 do if out from under his eye. at put the sign up in front, while Olive was cleaning house, and was amused to see a small crowd watching him with open- mouthed amazement, and setting him down as a distilled fool for moving into a house with such a record as that one had, “They should put themselves upon the record of my late quarters,” he said, grimly, as the people eyed him. Presently one old man made bold to ad- dress him, one of those curious old men who always are to be found moving around every community. ‘‘What might be your name, sir?’ he asked. ‘‘It might be Herman Spinola, sir,” and Nat pointed proudly to the sign, which he had just tacked up. ‘*The agent has deceived you in renting this house, for no one can live here,” ‘Tf I don’t lif here, I vill die here,” was Nat’s reply. “Tt has an awful name.” **T makes it haf a goot name den.” “Well, if you don’t take advice all right.” ‘So I say—good-morning,” and Nat went into the house and left the crowd to gape on and listen to the old oracle state that the ‘* German fool” would not live there a week, Seeking Olive Nat told her the story of his adventures, and the happenings since he bade her good-by the night before at her, home, CHAPTER XVII. TELLTALE ‘* SIGNS.” Ir was after nightfall when Nat and Olive left the house together, the latter to return to her home after having supper with her brother. The house had been put in first-class con- dition, as far as the rooms to be occupied were concerned, the gas meter man had been there and turned on the gas, and Nat lefta burner lighted in the hall and Guard on duty to await his return. Having seen Olive home he returned to his quarters, making a few purchases on his way for Guard, and stopping to get the keys he had had made, and which he explained to the locksmith were for his pupils to en- able them to go to the rooms to practice when he was not there. He had just gotten back when Sherman Canfield sand Will Palmer called, the latter not recognizable without a searching look, as he had changed his style of dress, carried a gold-headed cane, wore a high beaver hat, eye-glasses and had had his hair cut short. “Leonard Long will never know me now, professor, for I refrained from looking into a mirror until the change was complete, and positively I did not know myself, ‘Then I sprung myself sud@enly upon my old pard Sherman here and he did not know me, so, if Long is in the city he will never recognize in me the William B. Palmer, Texan, that he knew.” ‘No, and it is better so, for if he is here, and ran across you, he would suspect some- thing surely, if he is the guilty man you think, ** Looking as you now do you can spend be leisure ie Ng around among the otels, the gambling saloons, haunting the Rialto, where the actors loaf, and trying to get your eye upon your men. ‘*And remember, Mr. Palmer, you must look for him in disguise as well, for if he is under suspicion here he will make some change in his make-up in coming back; per- haps he may change his name.”’ ‘*) will remember this and look for any man that in anyway resembles him, no mat- ter what his dress, appearance or name,”an- swered Will Palmer. ‘‘Tam glad you came up to-night, for I have something to show you—see this photo- graph of one of my disguises and say if you would ever know it as me,” and Nat handed a photograph to Will Palmer, who, with one glance at it cried: ‘Ah! you found a photograph of him then?” f j “Of him? why I told you it was one of myself in disguise.” a: i... ES i ‘Nothing of the kind, for I am not a fook if Iam a Texan Tenderfoot.” , ‘Who do you take it to be?” ‘‘T know it to be Leonard Long, though this is some years younger than he was as [ knew him.” ‘Tam glad toknow who it is a photograph of, for I found it to-day, or rather my sister Olive did, lying flat on the top shelf of the closet in the room of the young servant girl who died here, it is said in a mySterious manner, ‘‘And you see that there is written on the back: «To LauRA—mMyY GIRL— “«* From LEN—HER Boy. *** Dec, 28th 18—’.” ‘*By the Lone Star of Texas, but you could trail a jack rabbit over a prairie, pro- fessor. “This is Leonard Long, and his writing as. well, for I have a létter in my pocket that he wrote Myrtle Maximo, and I brought it on for proof—see there,” “Yes, the writing is the same, and he oe his name in it, as on the photograph, en. ‘But I have something else to show you both—come with me, please,” and Nat led the way up-stairs, He entered the room where the young lady had died, also murdered, or a suicide, and pvinted to the stain on the floor. “This is the room where the daughter of the lady who was left this. house by Mr. Long, senjor, was murdered, ra say murdered, for the mother was away at the time, and the house was robbed of some petty things on that same night, but. whether Miss Malvin—her name was Madge Malvin and she was eighteen—I say whether her jewels were taken her mother never told, ‘‘Now I got the whole history of this. house from the agent, and you will see, as I show you, that Mr. Long, the servant girl Laura Landis, for such was her name, and Miss Madge Malvin all died or were murdered in bed. _ “A strange thing about it was that each one diced from a knife thrust in the heart. ‘Now I have decided tbat one hand drove the knife each time; in fact, the three were murdered by the same person, for some cause unknown to us—_ See here!” “Go it, Nat, you are as sure on the scent as a hound, and though you have not been twenty-four hours in this house you have be- gun to unravel its mysteries.” ‘It’s not so hard to do, Mr. Canfield, with the tell-tale signs before me as I have here. Do you see this writing on this mirror with a diamond?” ‘* Yes,” said both men eagerly. ‘This room has never been cleaned up since the day of Miss Malvin’s death; but Olive put it in order to-day. ‘‘The blood-stain still remains upon the floor, for it was summer time and there were rugs instead of a carpet, and right on the center of this mirror 1 noticed a fancy pic- ture pasted, : ‘It just covered this writing, and more, - there were blood-stains upon the little pic- ture, finger-marks in fact, showing that it was pasted there, apparently as an ornament, but in reality to hide what was written on the glass, and more, it was done the night Miss Malvin’s murder and by her mur- derer. Fi Read it, and here is the picture I soaked rs) Be P. And the Texan tenderfoot read aloud: “My Hero—My Idol—L. L. : “«* His creed shall be my creed. - r ‘«* Where he goes I will follow if - death. see er “«N, Y., June 10th, 18—.’” oe And the three stood gazing at each other at the story the diamond-cut lines on the — mirror told, b Rid eae rm.
Page 11
+ va? >. at aes! ot 2 , ms Ww a ie a | im Bees | ee . rn ee F as a he S} oe * a A aN As wy Ga cna ea) i! o ia 5 ae __, her mother would not allow her to marry j ’ f New York Nat Trapped. ets Oy AS SE. a lye Fes , . y Pee an te SRL 40 Ot) A. So ens on EP ERS ray F ff ~ 11 CHAPTER XVIII. NAT READS THE SIGNS, ** Proressor, I am speechless with*amaze- ment at your find, ' “You were born a detective, if ever one was born with a talent. “JT put my hat on and take it off to you, for the Texas Tenderfoot sees just the trail you are following,” said Will Palmer with enthusiasm and sincere admiration for the Boy Ferret. ‘**T think I see your lead, too, Nat,” Sher- man Canfield remarked. ‘* Please, each give your ideas, as they help me. ‘* What do you think, Mr. Palmer?” “That this man Long is a lady-killer—tbe _girl Laura got mashed on him, and the other, whose mother was in some way related to Long, senior, also found him her beau ideal, her hero, and that both took her life when she discovered he was false to her.” ** And you, Mr. Canfield?” *‘ Well, I was going to see in their death something even mcre tragic, Nat.” “* Well, sir?” “I was going to say that one killed her rival and then took her own life.” Nat smiled and said: ‘No, for the girl Laura died December 28th, Mr. iat: Pep January 2d, a few days later, and Miss Malvin in June of the same er I had not thought of the dates, a mee **You bet the professor had—let us hear his theory, and my new hat on it that he hits dead center,” Will Palmer remarked. “My idea is that both girls loved Long, and his flirtation with the servant cost her her life. “That he compromised himself with her his photograph shows, and the agent told me she was a owe | lady by birth and educa- tion, and accepted the place as a housekeeper ' on account of her being poor. “Miss MalVin was a society girl, I get from the same authority, like the servant girl, beautiful in face and form. _ “The flirtation with Laura was doubtless discovered by Mr. Long, senior, and was the cause of Long, junior, leaving his father’s home, “The death of the girl followed several months after, and then came the old man’s taking off. “In June following Miss Malvin died, all within six months. “* Now as the photograph, and the writing here on the mirror prove that the man was carrying on a love affair with both girls at the same time, he doubtless wished to get one out of the way. - ** He knew the house well, and the habits of the occupants, he had without doubt bis night-key that allowed him to enter. - “*He did so, sought the room of Laura, a _ scene followed, threatened exposure, and he silenced her. _,* Knowing that he was driven from his home, and perhaps believing his father had not made a new will againsthim, he came by night, again entered with his pass-key, saw his father and—well, the old man died from a knife-thrust, as Laura had done. | “* But the will bad been changed, others had been given the fortune that should have been his, he reasoned, but the girl loved him, im. “ If she became his wife, be could get half ~ at least of the property, and so, by aid of his pass-key, he came by night, in her mother’s absence, to see her, *‘ He had written her of his coming, and _ there had been a bitter quarrel between them, . as this letter shows—I found it bebind the fire-board, partially burned, as you see, as it had been thrown there, — * Tt is dated the day before Miss Malvin’s death, and was written in New York City— [ll read it aloud,” and unfolding a piece of crumpled paper, the edges of which were burned, Nat read: **T can explain all, everything to you, if I see you—I can not, dare not write. “That girl was a blackmailer, but my father believed her. 4‘ I will tell the whole truth, and you must, you shall believe me, or—” ‘*You see these words are burned,” said Nat, ‘‘ but then follows: “« ¢ __ am coming, *** Your d— ‘6 ___ EN. ““*N. Y., June, 18—.’ ** Now Leonard Long came. ** What took place he alone can tell, for she is dead, and he killed her.” ** My God! can he be so evila man, Nat?” “Yes, Mr, Canfield, for is there not proof that when he was supposed to be in Europe, as the agent says, he was really in New York? “‘ Is there not proof that he gave his pho- tography to Laura Landis, as her lover? ‘* This writing on the glass proves that Madge Malvin loved him, and his letter shows that she knew he was in New York, und had accused him of being false to her. ‘* This appears to be a hard character for only ope man to bear, but Mr. Palmer comes on with a story of a young girl who loved a fascinating man by the name of Leon- ard Long. ‘‘Mr. Palmer says that he had some money, and professed to be rich, and also that Mr. Maximo was murdered, his wife seriously wounded the night Leonard Long eloped with Myrtle Maximo, ‘He tells us of crimes committed there, of men being robbed, and just those deeds chime in with the death of the three people in this house, and I say it is Leonard Long’s work, that he has a mania for life-taking and gold-getting, and that he considers all men and women his prey.” ‘* Professor Herman Spinola, you have read the signs’ like an open book, or I am not a Texas Tenderfoot,” said Will Palmer, impressively. CHAPTER XIX. UNSEEN WITNESSES, Nat's fine face showed no sign of triumph at his supposed truthful reading of the **signs” of Leonard*Long’s guilt. He was not one to ‘‘cross a bridge before he got to it,” and never hurried until there was cause for it, Both Sherman Canfield and Will: Palmer were happy over the ‘‘find,” and earnestly discussed it; but Nat asked quietly: — ‘Have you any idea, Mr. Palmer, of the nature of the robbery at the Maximo ranch?” ‘* That was very hard to ascertain, as the Don was dead and Mrs. Maximo seriously wounded, while she would not speak of the robbery at all.” “ Any jewels, gold, and other things?” . “Yes, an old servant said that she knew that a splendid necklace of diamonds, and another of rubies were gone, with rings of great value, and other jewelry, as well as quite a sum in gold.” “American gold?” “*No, Mexican.” “And the jewelry, was it of American manufacture?’ ‘“No, of Mexican.” “You have seen it?” y “Yes, I have scen both Mrs. Maximo and Miss Myrtle wear the jewels.” ‘Can you describe them?” ‘‘As I remember them, yes,” and Will Palmer did so, Nat taking notes, ‘‘ Now let me ask if the Maximos were 7 eee eee ee ee ee Eri EE er ee ee en eS ee Pe willing for the marriage of their daughter to Leonard Long?” ‘“*Mrs. Maximo, yes, but the Don swore that she should marry a young Mexican Army officer who was very rich and a cousin of his. ‘‘Miss Myrtle seemed to like him too, un- til Leonard Long crossed her path.” ‘Then the Don would not have allowed her to marry Long?” ‘‘No, and I did hear that he had written the young officer to come there, as he was. getting fearful of Long’s influence over his daughter.” “The more I hear of Leonard Long of Texas, the more I feel that heand the Leon- ard Long of New York are one and the same without the photographic proof even.” “Yes, yet the one in Texas, you know, claimed to be from Chicago.” “True, but he was from New York all the same,” said Nat with confidence. ‘*And do you believe he is in New York now?” ‘* Yes, Mr. Palmer.” ‘May I ask your reasons for thinking so, professor, for you know mine?” ‘* Certainly. “Tf a man has begun his criminal career in New York he is sure to come back here, no matter where he may drift. ‘‘ Especially if he is hunted will he come here to hide, for where there are the most people it is easy to conceal one’s self. “Then too if he is a vampire, living ow other people, this is the place he will come, and 1 am sure we will find Leonard Long here, and the one he ran off with also,” ‘Is it not strange that she, a young, pure, noble girl should cling to him after knowing what he is?” ‘** But does she? ‘Is he not hiding from her his real character, until he tires of her, and seeks some one else whom he can get. money through or rob?” ‘*Then you expect to find him?” . “You have my pledge that I will, andl . am more confident now than ever,” was Nat’s reply, and a warning growl from Guard told him some one was at the door, ‘“Tt is some of the Clan, for they are to come after their key and to make a report, for I started them upon the track of the Vampire. “Then too I expect Parson will bring me some information,” and leaving the two friends in his room, Nat left the door ajar and went into the room arranged for the meeting of the band. The two kept quiet, not wishing to let. their presence be known, as Nat was go- ing to give them a look at his Ferrets, for even Sherman Canfield knew but Olive and a couple of the boys. | Parson was the first to arrive, and Guard escorted him up-stairs as though to discover if it was all right in that house as in the Rookery. ° ; . Seeing that it was, the dog returned to the docr to await other arrivals and acquaint Nat with their coming with a growl. Had a stranger happened in Guard would have welcomed’ him very differently, but he knew all of the members of the band, though: he obeyed only Nat and Olive. ‘“* You were right, Cap’n Nat, for the men did pay the hackmen in counterfeit money, and it was the queer that they shoved at the St. James and also at C——’s gambling sa- loon,” said Parson. ‘« IT knew it, but wished to have you find out the real truth. 4 ‘* Did you make anydiscovery about their ive?” ‘‘ None: but 1 saw the afternoon and the killing of those two men apers:, “‘T merely had time to glance at the papers; but suppose Keno will have some- n the: > ag Rookery last night has created quite an ex- | -citement.” — re
Page 12
12 thing to report of how the news was received at Police Headquarters.” ** Yes, he should,” and as Palmer spoke the others began to drop in singly and in pairs, Guard met each one at the door and es- corted them up, returning to his post when _ they had been greeted by his master, — ‘Item headed; © ©Onancina A NAME FOR A Ae The boys took their places in the seats as they entered, and when all were present Nat rapped for order and called for reports. They had little more to tell than that they had laid their plans that day for future work, but Keno, who was under clerk at Police Headquarters, stated that the force was considerably worked up over the killing of the two crooks in the Rookery, and which the chief had not explained. What men on the force had killed them ‘they could not discover, but one of the men being recognized as the ex-detective Miles, the other was also known as one of the most desperate and daring criminals in the city ‘who had long eluded capture, for he was an escaped convict, sentenced for murder. Telling the boys to devote their whole time to unearthing the Vampires, Nat dis- missed them, and when all had departed re- turned to join Canfield and Palnier who had been interested and silent witnesses of the meeting of the Ferrets. | CHAPTER XX. NAT’S PLOT, WHEN again with Sherman Canfield and ‘Will Palmer, New York Nat said: ‘* Now let me give you my plan of ac- tion, . ** Parson, the first one to arrive tonight, «dogged those two men you put me on to, Mr. Palmer, to a large flat house, up-town. ‘“*They drove there in a carriage, and went up to see certain friends living there, for Parson found this out through the jani- tor, } “ From there they went to the slums of the city, and to one of the most desperate dives there, if it is the place I think it is. ** Now who could those two men be visit- ‘ing in that fashionable flat house?” ‘* L give it up, Nat, but some one who can- not know who they were.” *« So I should say,” added Will Palmer to Sherman Canfield’s remark. ‘** They were visiting a rich young swell, the janitor told Parson, and I would like to “ask you, Mr. Palmer, if you ever heard of the name of Benedict Mildmay? ‘* Benedict Mildmay? ** Yes, I have heard the name somewhere, ‘and under some circumstances, but for the ‘life of me, I cannot recall now.” ** You are sure?” ‘Yes, for it is a name once heard not readily forgotten.” ‘** That is why I ask you if you are sure.” “* | am’certain.” ** Was it in Texas?” “<I tbink not.” ‘: ** Since you came to New York?” ‘* No, or I should recall it at once.” Mr, Sherman, did you ever hear the | “Dame?” **T think not.” ed ** You cannot recall where you heard it, Mr, Palmer?” FA ‘OT Cannot. 14 bi ** Was it from Leonard Long?” “No, I am sure not—it was since I saw him—oh! I have it, I saw it in a paper while on my way North.” “In a paper?” ** Yes,'in a New York paper.” ** You remember the circumstances?” “LT had read the “news, and was glancing over the paper when my eyes fell upon an Fortune.’ ‘‘T read the article, and it stated that a wich man by the name of Benedict Mildmay, does live here.” New York Nat Trapped. a bachelor, having no near kindred in this country, but himself an American by adop- tion, but an Englishman by birth, had been saved from death by a young man once, and had lately left him his fortune, on condition that he should change his name to his own, that of Benedict Mildmay. “Tt went on to state that the young man had gained through his life-saving deed, and the change of name, a very large fortune, which he intended to enjoy by becoming a resident of New York City. “But what has all this to do with our man, professor?” \ ‘* Have you forgotten that 1 told you Par- son said the two men visited a man in the fashionable flat by the name of Benedict Mildmay?” - ‘That is so; but what do you make out of that?” “1 wish to find out what Mr. Mildmay was before he got his fortune, that two such men can visit him, and also if he knew who and what they are. ‘* If he does he may be able to let me into a secret, and through it I may unearth the Vampires.” *“ Those who warned you out of the city?” “* Yes, sir, for lam working up your case and the Vampires’ together.” “IT see,” said Will Palmer, thoughtfully, and Nat continued: “‘T will go and call on Mr. Mildmay to- morrow, and the next day I will go to the dive down in the slums, which Parson saw the two men enter, and see what I can find out there,” ** Don’t risk too much, Nat, as I am afraid you will do,” said Sherman Canfield, earn- estly. ‘ll risk no more than I must, sir, and I'll go well disguised, 1 assure you; but I am convinced that the men have their den there, and just who and what these Crook Detectives are I am determined to know.” After some further conversation Sherman Canfield and Will Palmer took their leave, and Nat was left alone with his dumb com- rade, Guard, The young Ferret, paced to and fro in the room for nearly an hour, his thoughts busy with his plans, and at last he muttered: **T do not wonder that Mr. Palmer cannot see any connecticn between his man Long and the band of Desperado Vampires, for I do not myself see the connecting link; but somehow the two are constantly mixing up together in my mind, and I will feel that one has something to do with the other. **To-morrow I will go first and see this Benedict Mildmay, and I'll go in a disguise that will strike him. ‘* But I’m tired and will now to bed.” Nat slept as soundly in the House of I'll Omen, as though it had. never been said to be peopled with ghosts, and he awoke the next morning refreshed and ready for the work he had set out to accomplish. CHAPTER XXI. .: A FAIR INQUISITOR. “PARDON me, but is Mr, Benedict Mild- may a resident in this house?” _ The janitor of the Sky Parlor Flats turned in a lazy way, like a man who felt bis im- portance, and when his eyes rested upon the one who asked the question his whole man- ner changed, for no man can look into the face of a very pretty woman and not be polite, no matter how rude he may be to ugly ones. ' ‘*I beg pardon, miss, but Mr, Mildmay “‘T would like to him?” **Certainly, miss, but Mr. Mildmay is out of town since yesterday, but his wife is here.” ge Ses ‘* His wife?” and the manner in which the go up to ania and see words were spoken caused the janitor to fear i oe eau he had made a mistake and he added quick- % a ‘Mrs. Mildmay, miss. ‘** Did you not know that he was married?” ‘Has he been here long?” ‘‘No, miss, only a short while.” ‘‘T am not sure that it is the Mr. Mild- may I mean, and I came to find out. “Tknow your time is most valuable, but as you seem so polite and kind, I am going to worry you awhile, only remember, if it should not be my friend, you must not speak of my coming here,” and the gloved hand dropped into the palm of the janitor « ten dollar bill. The janitor flushed with surprise and pleasure, and said: ‘‘T am at your service, miss, though I am always busy, you know, as mine isa most important position here. ‘* But walk into my little office and let me know what I can do for you.” The fair visitor entered the little office, took a seat and said: *‘T used to know a Mr. Benedict Mildmay, very well, I may say. ‘‘He was not married, however, then. “Is this one rich?” ‘He would have to be, miss, to live here, for he has one of the front, corner flats, yes, and he has a stpall one in the rear, too.” ‘Then he bas a large family ?” **Oh, no, miss, only a young wife; but he has some bachelor friends of a sporty kind whom I guess madam does not like and he ‘* But receives all of his fashionable friends and wife’s company in his fine large flat?’ ‘* Bless you, miss, she receives no com- pany, nor does he, except the sports I spoke of," “Yet they are rich you say?” ‘Oh, yes; but they have not got any friends in the city, I guess, being strangers.” ‘* How long have they been here?” ‘They took the flat furnished, from an flat of five rooms Mr. Mildmay secured the next day, to hold forafriend, he said; but it was not furnished, and he only moved in some chairs, a table and a few other things.” ‘* What kind of looking man is he?” “A tall, handsome fellow, a perfect + pad Manca the ladies, say who have seen. m,”’ , ‘And he is out of town?” for a day or two,” “Is Mrs. Mildmay handsome?” ‘‘She’s perfectly grand, miss, but looks like she was a foreigner, though she speaks English perfectly.” Br i ‘*T suppose she goes out a great deal?” ‘*She has ridden on horseback quite often, horseback,” ‘ “‘T believe after all I will see ah find out from her what I would like to now,”’ i tor awaited his return. ie ‘‘Mrs. Mildmay says you are to come up, miss,” said the boy. Entering the elevator, bell caused a door to be opened by a young form. “ Pardon me for admitting you, but bhi keep no servants save those furnished by the house, and none came at my ring. Ne ‘* Be seated, Miss Sherman, and know how I can serve you.” ’ She led the way into a richly furnishe parlor and received her visitor with the per fect ease of one reared in the best of socie ‘let me Miss Sherman gazed at the handsome young, bride with undisguised ‘admiration at he beauty, and said: fsa “Tam sorry to disturb you, Mrs. | shows them to the little flat.” ‘a advertisement in the paper, and the little ‘Yes, miss, said he was going to Boston _ miss, and she told me she was raised on _ her, forl The elevator boy was called, a card given %; him to take to Mrs. Mildmay, and the visi- — Asst the visitor was — taken to the seventh floor and .a touch on a and very beautiful girl of slender, graceful | —
Page 13
" ay, butt ‘i called to see your husband, but was told that he had gone to Boston.” “ Yes, but only for several days. ** Will I not do as well?” ‘* Perhaps so, and even better, as you may tell me what his modesty would not allow him to do, “‘Tam on the Press, Mrs. Mildmay, and there was an interesting article in a New ee York paper of a fortune left him by one who oF ae gave it on condition that he would take the name of the gentleman with the estate.” ** Yes, my husband showed me the article— Thave it here,” By ‘‘ My purpose is to find out something of ‘ea. one favored with a fortune with a name, to make a readable article that he would feel a pleased with, so I will be glad of any infor- eo mation you can give me about him, and you fn can show it to him as a surprise when it ap- es pears.” PB “‘T shall be delighted,” said the young ) ., wife, glad to please her husband, and she Bt: | added: fie “* What is it you w ould know about him, Miss Sherinan?” ** He is a New Yorker, I believe?” ‘* No, he is a comparative stranger here, for he came from Chicago.” ‘* He saved the life of the gentleman who left him bis fortune and name?” ** Yes, he saved him from being murdered on the highway by footpads, one of whom he killed ” ** Doyou mind telling me his other name?” “He has dropped it completely, never re- fers to it in fact, according to the terms of the will, but I can see no harm in letting those who knew him under his real name, know of his good fortune through the apers, so 1 wal tell you that it was Leonard Long.’ CHAPTER XXII, THE TEXAN TENDERFOOT’S VISITOR. SHERMAN CANFIELD and Will Palmer had » Just come in from a drive in the Park. They had had breakfast at eight, read all - the the papers had to say about the affair at the ery, with an attack on the head of the zp “Secret Service for holding something back about the killing, for newspapers often think and assert that the public should be let into all secrets, and then the two friends had. _ gone fora ‘drive. _. Lunch was waiting for them and they were just lighting their cigars when the _ butler came to say that there was a lady in the parlor to see Mr. Palmer. ‘*Ah, Will, so soon—and in New York ut two or three days?” jokingly said Sher- man Canfield. “J don’t know her, and you should, for _ she bears your ‘name. “JT guess it is a mistake of the butler,” and Will Palmer handed over a card. ‘‘ Miss Sherman,” said Sherman Canfield Ag thoughtfully. “She is vo friend of mine I'll be sworn. _ ** As the butler said she asked for you, go "So Will Palmer, the Texan Tenderfoot, en- 34 _ tered the parlor. - A all, slenderly formed lady, closely vailed and elegantly dressed, arose from a chair to greet him. ‘*Mr, Palmer, may I ask?’ ‘Yes, madam—1! beg pardon, for your ‘d read Miss Sherman,” and the youn an was slightly confused, for the lady be- re him had a very striking face, “‘ Miss Sherman it is, sir. May I ask if you are Mr. William B, er of Montezuma Ranch, Texas?” “Are you acquainted with a lady known wae Myrtle Maximo?” Yes, wae of her?” quickly asked the rst I an like to ~ chs a few other oo Mildma me. New York Nat Trapped. *< Certainly.” ‘*In the presence of a witness.” *« If you wish. ‘*T will call my friend and host, Mr. Sher- man Canfield—he i is in the library.” ‘*Do-so, please.” Will Palmer left the parlor and going into the library said: ‘Come, Sherman, throw away that cigar, for there’s a mighty pretty woman in the parlor and she’s just dying of curiosity to see you.’ ‘* Let her die—I prefer to smoke.” ‘‘No, joking aside, I don’t know her, never saw her, and she opened on me like a lawyer cross-examining a witness, and asked me if Iwas from Montezuma Ranch, Texas. ‘“‘Then she asked if’ I knew Miss Myrtle Maximo and that took my breath away. ‘* Her next was that she wisbed to question me before a witness, and I sailed in for you.” “ She’s a dandy. “T'll go and investigate,” and the cigar was thrown away and Sherman Canfield ac- companied Will Palmerinto the parlor. Introduced to her, Canfield bowed in bis quiet way, and the visitor said: ‘*T learned of -Mr. Palmer's being in the city, Mr. Canfield, how it matters not, and I have some questions to ask him, but desire a witness and,he called you.” ‘*Tf satisfied, Miss Sherman, with me as a witness I shall be glad to serve.” “Thank you, ‘““Now, Mr. Palmer, you said that you know Miss Myrtle Maximo of Texas?” “Yes, I knew her well.” “Yous: iy you knew her; do you not know her now?” ‘** Not as Miss tor silat for she was married about a month ago,” “That is just it. “Do you know that she was married ?” “‘T know the young lady, and as she left her home with a—a—gentleman, I feel pretty sure that she became his wife.” ‘* Do you know the man well?” ‘**No, 1 knew him only by what he said of himself,” ‘Do you know where Miss Myrtle Long is now?” ‘*If she is married she is Mrs, Leonard Long.” ** You are mistaken.” ‘* What do you mean?” ‘*T know her,” “* You do?” ¢¢'Yes, ” - “Do you know where she is?” ., “ce Yes. ” ' ‘ “Where?” ‘‘In New York.” “In this city?” ‘* She. is.” ‘‘As Myrtle Maximo or Mrs. Long?” ‘« Neither.” ** Is she not married then?” ‘*T presume that she is,” ‘*T do not understand.” ‘« Long is not her name.” “ What is it then?” - ‘She is Mrs. Benedict Mildmay.” “ Benedict Mildmay ” ees “Sherman, that. is the name our friend asked me if I had ever heard,” ‘*Yes, Will.” ‘What had you heard of the name, Mr. Palmer?” ‘‘That it was the name of some old crook who left his fortune to a young man who would take his name.’ “Do you know the real name of the young ie who took the name of Benedict ay?” do not.” “T can tell you.” by it really is a matter of no interest to “ Not if it was at Long, Mr. newest Leonard 13 came the quiet query, but the eves seemed to be resting upon the faces of both Wilk Palmer and Sherman Canfield as the ques- tion was asked. CHAPTER XXIII. THE SECRET REVEALED, ‘LEONARD Lona! ‘* Do you know him?” asked Will Palmer, excitedly. ‘I know of one who bore,the name of Leonard Long, but is now known as Bene- dict Mildmay,” was the quiet response. ** Where is he?” ‘*Tn Boston, just now.” ‘* And his wife is here?” sé Yes.”’ “T would like, with your permission, to see her.”’ ‘* Now you cannot do so, but later I would wish you to see her. “Tt is for that reason I came to see you. this afternoon,” ‘*Did she send you here?” ‘NOt ‘*She told you I was here?” ‘*No; she does not ented that you are not on your ranchin Texas.” ‘** How was it that you came to seek me?” pi knew that you were the one 1 should come to.” ‘* One question now?” “Yes, Mr. Palmer.” ‘« When did you see Myrtle Maximo, Long or Mildmay, as she may be known?” ‘* An hour ago.’ ‘Ts she happy?” ‘« Apparently yes, though I think she has some hidden sorrow she fights against.” ‘* What is she to you?” **One in distress.” ‘* What are you to her?” ‘*T went asa member of the Press—from the Herald, in fact.” ‘* Ab! you are a reporter?” No, sir.” ‘You led her to believe so?” “T did.” ; ‘* What are you?” eg ‘‘A detective.” . “Ah! and a woman?” **T did not say so.’ Will Palmer looked puzzled, while Sher- sae Canfield stepped quickly forward and sa! ‘Come, you gay young deceiver! Will, don’t you know him?” ; “Him?” ‘“‘Yes, him! I am onto him now, for it has just dawned upon me. ‘It is Nat!” “‘Oh, Lord! New York Nat?” . “None other!” “Our Ferret—he the professor in petti- coats?” ‘He is.” “‘ Incredible!” ‘‘Not at all ineredible, Mr. Palmer; I’m the professor,” calmly avowed the disguised. detective. ‘* Well, it’s all your game! from start to finish. You lead me: “But, Ican hardly credit it, yet, as you make a better looking girl than boy. ud “‘That’s a question of opinion,” laughed. Nat, and he added: ‘“*Fine feathers make fine birds, and I know my toilet isa handsome one, for it was. all made to order. ‘*Then this wig, with paint, powder, rouged lips, a pretty bonnet and kid gloves. make the cheat perfect—so perfeét that I fooled that poor woman, Mrs. Mildmay.” | ‘*Poor girl! You have seen her, then?” ** Yes, I went to call on him, to see what kind of a gentleman he was to hobnob with sports of a low order, ‘The janitor told me was away, but that 3 wife was Penile so I feed the man and Bie him dry hen I went. up and called upon: madam,
Page 14
F- +? - ee oe oo AD Te Sipe es ~ ae wee f ed Ns REE are AE clone PPE oe atIOn New York Nat Trapped. Was a press reporter and wished to give her husband a flattering notice. ‘* She felt it would please him, for she has nothing to hide, and so she took the bait eagerly. “She told me of her elopement, that her husbund was from Chicago, that he had saved Mr Mildmay’s life, and that he intend- ‘ed to wholly ignore his own name and te known only as Mildmay. ‘‘She said she had written to her father and mother—” ** Poor girl!” ** Asking them to forgive her, and that her husband had written a beautiful letter, also, begging them to come on North, at his ex- pense and join them for a month’s visit.” * See here Miss Sherm—darn it all, You make me believe I am talking to a woman! ‘‘T mean professor; and I want to know if you thirk after all that Long can be inno- cent, and—” ‘- No!” interrupted Nat, sternly. ‘‘ He is guilty from beginning to end—a thorcugh scamp and crook ‘‘She may have written home, and he also may have written, as she states, but the let- ters were never sent; rest assured of that, for itisa part of his game to make her be- lieve she is te be cast off by her parents, **T could see that she was unbappy—that _ he had found out her husband was not all she had believed and hoped he would be; but -she tried to make the most of it and be brave. ; ‘‘ He is Leonard Long, and we have track- -ed him. ‘* Now I shall plan for you to see her as soon as the time comes to put the nippers on him. You will have to tell herall, for you -are her friend, the one who will have to bear her up in her sorrow, and return her to her Gane. when she knows the whole bitter truth. ‘* He will not return for several days, she says, and—” ** Can he have left her already, or suspect- ved trouble and fled?” ‘* That beh: pr had not entered my mind, but he preparedto go. She has had a letter from him. He wrote for her to send him ‘some money, she said, and in her innocence she told him that she wished he would hurry back and bank the large sum he had there. ‘So he will be back, and while waiting for him ] will go on a still hunt in the slums for the Desperado Vampires, who are going to kill me.” Nat returned to his home, and that night heard further reports from his Ferrets of _ what they. had been doing in their search for ‘the Vampires, CHAPTER XXIV. THE TRAPPED FERRET. New York Nat left his quarters the next morning early, with every hope of success. He had put the reports of his different as- sistants together and come to one conclusion, which was that the place to which the Parson had tracked the two sports was certainly the abiding-place of a score of crooks. Men went in and out of the saloon con- ~tinually, and hundreds of men at that; but there were from a dozen to a score who cer- tainly bad their home there. They would go into the saloon, but would not be seen anywhere when the Ferret-spies, -as newsboys and bootblacks, went in to look them up. Putting all reports together Nat was sure ‘that he had found the den of thieves, if not the Vampires’ Nest: so he gave his instruc- ‘tions for the next day and told what he in- tended to do. He left the quarters as ‘‘ Professor Her- ‘man Spinola,” but he went into a place and I got the story from her, telling her I | down-town and emerged from itas a naval apprentice, having on his cap the lettering: ‘*U. §. S. PortsmMourH.” He cruised along the street like a sailor who knew what port he was going into, and at last arrived in a part of the city which it was by no means safe to be in. Then he brought to anchorin a saloon over the door of which was the sign: * GOOD CHEER. ‘*Bos BowLgs, ** Landlord.” The landlord eyed him curiously, saw that he was apparently half-seas-over but seemed not anxious to detain him then, although he treated liberally. ‘‘T tell you no, for I don’t like Uncle Sam’s sharks to come in here, as they may get me into trouble. *‘Ee is too conspicuous so steer him out into some dive where they want him.” So said Bob Bowles to a man who had seemed to be urging him to do something against his will—Nat meanwhile playing half stupid but hearing all and seeing all. So he was robbed of five dollars he had in his hand and then was fired out, After going a short distance Nat quicken- ed his pace and returned to his starting-point to get into some new shape. ‘No use in this rig, Shorty. They are afraid of me because [ am a supposed U. 8. sailor, so I’ll have to try the professor rig again.” When Nat sallied forth again, once more he was the ‘‘ professor,” and found himself in the Good Cheer Saloon before very long. He showed a roll of bills, played half- drunk and confidentially told the landlord that it was his first time on earth, he knew no one in New York, and was looking for a quiet, genteel boarding-place where he would not be robbed, for he had considerable money with him. That was the very place, the landlord as- sured him, so he watched his chance and led him out of the saloon by a rear door, Then the way led down some steps to a basement corridor, along this, which was lighted by a lamp, to what appear to be a brick wall, the Ferret pretending to be maudlin drunk and leaning hard upon the landlord. But, the brick wall, at a knock from the guide, suddenly raised up and when both passed under it, it was lowered behind them. They were still in a corridor, narrower than the other, and dimly lighted. Along this passageway they passed for some fifty feet, when they came to a door upon which the landlord gave another mysterious knock. It was opened by a rough-looking man who ried: ‘* Hello, Bob, what is it?” ‘A pigeon to pluck. Take him, for I must get back to my bar,” and Nat was sud- denly shoved through the door, which in- stantly closed behind him. f He very nearly fell down some stone steps, at the bottom of which was a large under- ground room, where there was a_billiard- table, gambling-tables, a bar and a dozen men, smoking, drinking and playing cards. ‘‘ Here, pals, Bob owien brought this pigeon here to be plucked,” said the man, that led Nat forward. Nat made no resistance. He felt that he had been too reckless. Most cleverly and quickly had he been trapped. To be thus thrust in there, amid that crowd of men he knew meant death to him, for they would never allow him to go out te inform on them after,they had robbed im, To make matters worse he recognized sey- yee 7 Me Lhe meee nt A eras ACE tas 4 ‘ : Sa ae ee ee ene = Fo Sapa as tcf ee nase PRES Ve PT: a pe ll ef + ‘ ir ood ie , ii? * < ‘ y . % Pes wiht ow DTA tL, Pay ed, a a f peek ata Ts ies sit iia rg rhc gon a Rae ET Cx eral of those present as men whom he kne ~ to be crooks of the worst kind. . He glanced quickly over the crowd as they all pressed around him, and bis eyes met those of one whom he had every reason to fear. It was the small sport whom Will Palmer had warned him against, and whose pard he had killed in the old Rookery, two nights before, CHAPTER XXV. THE CHAIR OF DEATH. /*Parps, I declare he’s got a rig on,” yelled one of the men, who suddenly snatch- ed the disguise from his head. «‘ Yes, and a revolver!” cried another, and he made a snatch at the weapon. But, Nat was too quick for him, and with a bound he was away and up the steps. ( But, he was headed off, for he did not know how to open the door, and he was forced to stand at bay. ‘Back, all of you, for I wil: fire!” ‘*Fire and be blowed to you,” cried a man in the rear while the others rushed upon the now cornered youth, There was a flash and report, and the near- est man dropped, but the others threw themselves upon him, and, in an instant, he was disarnied anddragged back down the stepsinto the underground hall. { ‘*Men, I know the fellow! It's the one we were looking for—the youngster the captain and all was afraid of: ‘‘It is New York Nat!” It was the short man who spoke, he whom Nat had recognized. At this announcement a shout went up. In that underground den, with the low rumble of wheels overhead, they seemed to have no fear of being heard. ‘* He will bave to die!” cried one. ‘‘He has come right into our den,” said another, ** What shall we do with him?” ; ** Kill him!” “ ‘‘No, we must wait for the captain to come!” _ ‘Put him in the Execution Chair and that will keep him until death or the captain comes!” st This last suggestion was received with a shout and Nat was dragged by ready and powerful arms back through a stone arched way and thrust into a large seat, like a bish- op’s chair. It was massive and was made fast on a raised platform. As soon as he was seated in it, iron brace- lets, fastened to the arms of the chair, were clasped around his wrists. : ) Then about his arms iron bands were clasped, while around his neck a steel band was fitted closely and made secure through the back of the chair. ‘« Now leave him there until the captain comes.” ‘« Tf he don’t come in a day or two, Death — will.” ‘And the rats will keep him from being lonesome as soon as night comes.” With these awfully suggestive words, New York Nat was left to his fate, while the — rats came about him, as soon as the gang of crooks departed from the arched way in which stood their diabolical contrivance, the — Chair of Death. As the hours passed, New York Nat began — to almost despair of rescue, though he had planned with his Ferrets, if he did not return by a certain time, to arrest the landlord and =| pull the place. It seemed to Nat, in irons as he was, in darkness, down below the streets, and with scores of loathsome rats running about him, that the hour he had set for his return =i must have come and passed long before. ji Suddenly he heard a loud cheer from the
Page 15
Pmen in the underground hall. A moment ‘after camea flash of light upon him and a Voice said ; r ** He’s alive, captain, if the rats have not eaten him.” There stood a tall form and the face Nat recognized, though he had seen it only in a photograph. The name sprung quickly to his lips: ; ** Leonard Long, I know you!” The man started back, even as he cried, savagely: “Then I will see that you never utter that name again!” But, as he moved forward, a knife in his hand, there was a wild cry of alarm behind him; pistol shots rung out, and a score of masked men stood in the underground hall, cutting off all retreat, At the first fire, the tall man addressed as captain by his band, staggered back and , moaned: ‘ ‘* Atlast! Avenge me, Vampires!” But, the Vampires were too busy trying to “oye themselves. Caught like rats in a ole, they cried for mercy, and one by one were Called out and put in irons. CHAPTER XXVI. CONCLUSION. THe moment that the masked rescuers entered the underground hall New York Nat knew them as his Ferrets, on the search for him. i A call brought several of them to his side, & and he was soon released from the _ borri- . 5 ble Death Chair, when he asked: ‘*How did you get in, Keno?” *‘We concluded that you had been trap- ed, and that harm had befallen you, Cap'n at, so we patronized the saloon, and gave a hint to those who were there to get out, or they would be pulled. } “They fairly stampeded, and Landlord Bob did not understand it until we had him cornered, “Then he came to terms and squealed, on condition that we would let him go. asi ‘We agreed, and the galoon doors were ~~. glosed ane he led the way, but he was the man who got killed by the fire of the Vam- pires. That is all there is to it, except that we had to kill four of the gang. ““ But, we feared they had done for you.” “Your coming was all that saved me, and bless you all for it. It was my closest call, But, what time is it, Keno?” “* About midnight.” “‘Lordy! I thought it was next week. _ Now about these fellows; we must keep ‘them all here in irons, of course locking the doors after us.- I will go at once to Myr. Canfield, to have him call up Headquarters aS and send the officers here to take charge; = thus, as before, we will escape being known Roky in the affair, save that the Unknown Fer- Cha rets did the work.” pa aes “You know they are the Vampires, for ‘ss the landlord admitted that, and I found out . senough from him to tell that they were the worst of crooks on earth.” © T don’t doubt it; but I wish to search ‘their captain, for he must not be known as he really is, so I will see if he has anything - ! about him to betray him as Leonard Long alias Benedict Mildmay.” Ber hic Nat’s search revealed enough to cause him ~ +to be glad he had made it, and he took with chim what he found on the body. _ Leaving the prisoners in irons, and believ- _ ing that they fied a guard over them, the Ferrets slipped away, while Nat went with all speed up to the home of Sherman Canfield. =. » still up, they having just returned from the theater. 4 yg exciting and important story was soon told. _ An hour after the police were in charge of the Good Cheer Saloon, the bodies and the prisoners; and the Secret Service chief owed ! Fortunately he found Canfield and Palmer New York Nat Trapped. another debt. to the Unknown Ferrets—the inscrutable Boy Police. The next morning Will Palmer, accom- panied by Olive, the Girl Queen, and New York Nat, called upon ‘‘ Mrs. Benedict Mild- may,” and the poor young wife of the Vam- pire Crook heard the whole cruel story of just who and what was the man she had married. Under other circumstances she might have broken completely down, but Will Palmer struck the key-note in urging her to bear up and go home to care for her mother. This roused her to action, and as she was assured that the cruel secret of who her husband had been was not to be made known, she seemed more resigned. She at once turned all overto New York Nat’s keeping, and, to verify all that had been said, he found her mother’s and her own jewels, with lots of her father’s gold in the strong-box of her crook peers the keys to which Nat had taken from, his body. So the young widow, the bride of a month, gave up her fine flat, packed up her belong- ings, and, escorted by Will Palmer, started for her far-Texas home. “The Texan Tenderfoot has won,” said Nat as he bade them good-by at the train. It was some two weeks after that Nat had a letter from Will Palmer, which stated that they had arrived safely, that he had done the lying for the young widow and had made known that her husband had been killed in New York in a riot, and if the ranchers wish- ed to find Don Maximo’s murderer, they must look elsewhere for him than to suspect Myrtle’s husband. Mrs. Maximo was improving fast, for she knew the real truth but had kept the dread secret well. Soon after, another letter came with a draft payable to Sherman Canfield, but with special instructions for the money to be paid over to New York Nat and his Clan, as a souvenir from Mrs. Maximo. That the Clan rejoiced greatly in this additional sum to swell their treasury we can safely state, And cheerily, too, they went on with their good work of running down the crooks, un- der their gallant young leader and Girl Queen, while they still remained, even to the chief of the Secret Service, the Unknown Ferrets —the Secret Boy Police—whose work made them literal Detective Wonders, THE END, Next Haur-Dime Lisrary, No. 921, A Fight Against Big Odds! ONE AGAINST MANY! A strange and certainly very eventful story—a whole camp to conquer and the warrior a youth! So the reader has, in The Boy from Denver: . Fighting the Toughs of Deadset, BY T. C, HARBAUGH, such a rattling series of haps and mishaps as every seeker for excitement in narrative will immensely enjoy. The Boy Mazeppa! who rides the gantlet of the Death Valley and Death Canyon bound on a white mule, turns the tables on his would-be destroyers in a marvelous manaer, and the Set-to and Rogue-Rustle ! which creates the tallest kind of a sensation, is just what renders the story one which not to read would be The Biggest Mistake of the Day. Beadle's Half-Dime Library. BY T. C. HARBAUGH. Nick o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of ’T6. The Hidden Lodge; or The Little Hunter. Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, Dandy Jack; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trait. Kit Harefoot, the Wood-Hawk, or, Old Powder-face, 4 Midnight Jack; or, The Boy Trapper. 6 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 8 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 9 Judge Lynch Jr: or, The Boy Vigiante. 5 Gol Trig er, the Spirt; or, The Girl Avenger. Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red Core. Ned Temple, the Border Boy; or, The Mad Hunter, Arkansaw ; or. The Queen of Fate’ Revenge. ' Navajo Nick. the Boy Gold Hunter. > Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade. 281 Plueky Phil; or, Rosa, the Re! Jezebel. 41 Bill Bravo; or, Tie Roughs of the Rockies. 255 Captain Apoli-, we King-Pin of Bowie, 267 The Kackskin Detective; or, The King of Road-agents, 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, ty 294 Dynamite Dan 3 or, The Bowie Blade of Gochetopa. \. 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Buily, 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, . 26 The Ten Parda ; «or. The Terror of Take-Notice, 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso, 845 Pittlesas Matt; 07, Ked Thunderbolt’s Secret. 856 Coal sam and Par'; or The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass ¢ or, ' he Boccaneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The ! win Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Silken Lasso; or, The Rosec Ranch Robin. 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter: or, The Gold Gang of New York. 425 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox; or, The Mystery of Room 21, 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Againat Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Boy Shadow : or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. 477 The Exceisior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. 521 Dodger Dick’« Best Dodge; or, The Gotham Gold Gang. 528 Fox and Faicon, the bowery Shadows, x 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. > 5648 Dedgcer Dick’« Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodger Dick's Desperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidocq; or, The Gang of Three, Ai 5678 The Two Sha dows; or, Dodger Dick’s Stop Game. Nee 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop; or, The Man from Jersey. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard, 626 The Champton Parda; or, The Lucifer of Silver Bar, 687 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. 645 Kit, the Pavement Sharp. 658 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. 671 Jersey Jed, the Boy Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadower. 685 Happy ugh, the Boy-Mustician Detective. 701 Photograph F red, the Camera Sharp. 715 Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret. 782 Dalay Dell, the Pavement Detective; or, Trapping Big Games 742 Billy Winka, the Bell Boy Detective, ’ 754 Billy Winks, the Poss Bov Shadow. T6s Saale Ned, the Boy on Guard; or, Tne Camp Spiders, 780 Tonkaway Tom, the Red Wizard 827 The Bantam Sport, 848 Clip, the Battery Ferret; 01, sack seucrs Foul Play S9T Davy Doon’« Big Bounce. ‘ 905 Dandy Nugget, the Bow Shadow. ‘a BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Vellowatone Juck; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat. : 65 Hurricane Bil; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. Mi, 19 Musteng Sam ; or, The King of the Plains. \% ht-tla it; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, 3 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul: or, Dainty 160 The Black Glant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Boy Trallers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path. : 208 The Boy Pards«; or. Dainty Lance Unmasks, 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca W olf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League. B85 Old Double Fiat ; or, The Strange Guide 855 The Kine of the Waode: or Daniel Boone’s Last Trail. 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. 625 Chineapin Dan, the Rey Trailer. 677 Chineapin Dan’s Second Trail. 688 Chineapin Dan’« Home Stretch, 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. Sted Light-Heart Lute’« Legacy. 18 Licht-Heart Lute’« Last Trail. 728 Silverblade, the Shoshone, 729 Silverblade, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle at Bay. 789 Silverblade, the Hostile; or, The Border Beagle’s Trall. 748 Silverblade the Friendly; or, The Border Beagle’s Boy Pard BY DAN DUNNING. 746 Oulet Jack, the Secret Service Spy. 767 Mae and Jack, the Invincibles; or, The Diabolical Three, 875 Detective Dave's Close Call. / 884 Farrel Fox and Hix Girl Ferret. 898 Farrel Fox’s Sweep-Stakes, BY WM. G. PATTEN, 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport; or, The Jubilee ot Jacktown. 66% WVlolet Vane’s Victory; or, The Jasper City Clean Out. 698 Violet and Datay, the Posy Pards. 705 Violet Vane’s Vows; or, The Cratty Detective’s Crait, 724 Violet Vane’s Vengeance; or, The Wipe-Out. 780 Violet Vane’s Verdiet; or, The Game at Coffin City. jo TAL Violet Vane, the Ventriloguist Vidocg; or, Sport vs. Sport, 750 Violet Vane, the Vanquished. or, The Life Strugg'e. 768 Violet Vane’« Vision; or, The Fiery Hand of Fate. 489 The Mamond Sport: or, The Double Face of Bed Rock, 519 Pat eye Mysterys or, Five in One. 581 Daisy Ware the Sport from Denver. 58ST Old BHombshell, the Ranger Detective. 604 Iron Fern, the Man of Fire: or, Among the Vultures, ; 619 The Boy Tramp Detective: or. The Doubie Grip Witness 641 Dismal Dave's Rant Pard; or, The Clue to Capt, Claw 651 Round Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective 682 Wild Vulcan; the Lone-Range Rider, 714 Old Misery the Man from Missonri. 774 Clear-Grit Cal, the Never-Say-Die Detective, 789 Sam Sheridan, the Secret Service Special. 806 Cowboy Steve the Ranch Mascot. 820 Nobby Nat, the Tenderfoot Detective. 886 Sharper Stoke’s Double Deal. ! . VewsocBeapen Pespebet ADKS » =@Sees st 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 wk ce to the Rescue. S57 Spotter Bob In New York. 866 Spotter Bob’s Bowery Racket. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library 1s tor sale by all Newadenlers, five cents per copy, or sent by mall on receipt of six cents " ‘ BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pu ; 98 William Street, New York. — 1 a ‘
Page 16
ATEST ISSUES of BEADLE’S HALR-DIME LIBRAR - ao 886 The Five Points Lodging House Janitor; or, Monk Merry and the Italian. By Jo Pierce. 887 Battery Bob, the Dock Detective; or. Rounding- up the Western Sharps. By J. C. Cowdrick. 888 Monte Saul, the Spoit; or, High Austling at Dead Latch. By Wm. R. Eyster. 889 New York Nat’s D adly Deal; or, The Unknown Ferret's Snap Shot, By Col, P. Ingraham. 890 Ace Hizh, the Trump Card Detective; or, Old Nat Hicks in New York, By Jo Pierce. 891 Dea twood Dick, Jr.'s. Dead Sure Game; or, Pis- tol Polly of Nuggetviile. By E. L, Wheeler. 892 Bowery Ben in Chinatown; or, Sam Sing, the East Side Sport. By Harold Payne. 893 Farrel Fox’s Sweep £t kes: or. The Boss Co. n- terf iter’s Round-up. By Dan Dunning. 894 Arizona Dick's Wipe-Out; or, Dare Devil Dave’s Death-Trap. By J.C. Cowdrick, 895 Fifth Avenie Fred; or, The Valet Detective, By Jo Pierce. 896 New York Nat in G ld Nugget Camp; er, The Wild All-around Sport. By Col. P. Ingraham, 897 Davy Doon’s Big Bounces; or. Nickel Nell, the Boy Spo-ter’s Mascot. By T. C. Harbaugh. 898 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Double Drive; or, The Riva! Mayors of Hardscrabble. By E. L. Wheeler. 899 Basemen’ Bert, the Boy Cobbler Detec ive. By Jo Pierce. 909 Jumping Jack's Jubilee; or, The Circus Queen's Shadower. By J. C. Cowdrick. 901 Diamond Dave, the Gilt Edge Shooter; or, Daddy Grimes’ Deadly Grip. By Wm. R. Eyster. 902 New York Nat in Colorado: or, Gentleman Jack's Resurrection, By Co. P. Iograham. 908 Billy Blue Blazes, the Dodger of the Docts. Jo Pierce. By 906 Safety Sam, the Cycle Sport; or, High Hustling at Sitver Uity. By J. C. Cowdrick, 907 Reddy Rusher, the Bell-Boy Detective; or, Chow- der Johnny's Surprise. By Jo Pierce. 908 New York Nat’s Double; or, The Unknown Three. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 909 Midshipman Dare, the Pirate Catcher, By T. C. Flanagan. 910 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Tip-Top; or. Gold Guns, the Bull-t-proof Sport. By E. L, Wheeter. 911 Bowery Bob's Lone Hand; or, Spotting the Shady Sharpers. By Harold Payne. 912 Train B y Trist’s Hot Hustl-; or, Bour cing the Broadway Crooks. \ By J. C, Cowdrick. 913 Kit Kei h, the Revenue Spotter; or, The Big Bag at Dark Run. By £d. L, Wheeler. 914 New York Nat’s Thre* of a Kind; or, Nick Nor- ton’s Cicse Call. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, 915 Flip F.asher, Ferret, of East Broadway; or, Fir- ing the Fire bugs. By Jo. Pierce. 916 Deadwood Dick, Jr’s, Double Decker; or, Center- Fire, the Self-Cocker. By Edward L. Wheeler. 917 Flash Lightning, the Mountain Mascot; or, Jerry Jacobs’ Doom. By Charles Morris. 918 The Trump Dock Boy; or, Too Sharp for the Jersey Sharper. By J. C. Cowdrick. 919 Crack-Shot Daisy’s Drop; or, Bronco Billy’s Big Brush. By Wm. R, Eyster. New York Nat Trapped; or, The Texan Tender- foot Crook-Tracker. By Col. P, Ingraham, 921 The Boy from Denver: or, Fighting the Toughs of Deadset. By T. C Harbaugh. A new issue every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail, 1920 THE MOST POPULAR STORIES PUBLISHED ‘SHOHLOV LSAH AHL IO SHHOM LSAG JBL 904 Deadwood. Dick, Jr.'s, Trade Mark; or, Deuce-}on receipt of six cents each, Trey, the Five-Spot Sport, By E. L. Wheeler. BEADLE AND ADAMS. Publishers au Sy S.- 905 Dandy Nugget, the Boy Shadow; or, Captain Mascot, the Nabob King, By T. C. Harbaugh, 98 William street, New York, eg AG Tee Nae” Viper Nips: Ulla pre Uf eprre Migr! pe Nr NIRS ey K A leo ON a) ¢ ak 2 KM BK aK Oe @3 SNS SS Nag SO Tene emer EK EK ie he Gi LMVGEGELEM: s NES BERADLES IME DIALOGUES AND SPEAKERS, ! FOR. _ Exhibitions and Home Entertainments, THESE DI ALOGUES, Minor Dramas . Hach Volume 100 12mo Pages, Scenic and Dress Pieces, and Rostrur DIALOGUES Nos. -1 to 41, Divertisements have now a national recogni 15 to 20 Pieces in Each Book. I Ug PITA Te ARRON ge? "Tgre” Upp” Yigr0? "tiger Ygrs MiG: Ka GGG LEGES, Sex . tion and reputation; for tbeir excellence, availability and singularly varied character bave sent the little volumes into Schools, Homes and Associations throughout every State and Section of this Country and the Dominion. SPEAKERS Nos, 1 to 25. 69 to 70 Pieces in Each Book. THE SPEAKERS run the whole range of oratory, recitation and declamation, giving what is best in eloquence, argument, humor, vernacular and dialect—prose and verse—thus making the series a perfect mine of good things, not only for declamation and recitation but for School and Family Readings. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St., New York. THESE BOOKS have no equal for avail- ability and merit of matter, and have a wider popularity among teachers, scholars, schools and amateurs than any series or single volumes yet published, at any price, in this country.