Beadle's Pocket Library (no. 362) (1890 12 17)
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Va / < ‘i meet ean #2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Price, a Year, No. 98 Witt1am Sr., New York. Five Cents. AT THEM AIRE FEET, DO YR?’ KIT DEMANDED, ‘“‘ WHY, THEMS MUD SCOWS, LIKE THEY USE IN THE MARSHES,”
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Kit, the Boothlack Detective: | Fern Philadelphia to the Rockies. BY ED. L, WHEELER, AUTHOR OF “DEADWOOD DICK” NOVELS, ETC, CHAPTER I. A NEWSBOY’S NOTION. ‘Hreg’s yer papers—Call, News, Star, and Item—all bout the shockin’ suicide. ’Ere’s yer Ttem—one cent!” : Such was the ery of a young urchin, who, with a bundle of papers under his arm, was wending his way along Chestuut street, Phila- delphia’s crowded thoroughfare, one sunny August afternoon. ‘“oRre's yer papers—all about the shocking suicide!” He was not the only one whose voice awoke the echoes of that particular afternoon, crying out for the sale of the press, for there were scores of youthful venders of news, darting hither and thither, and endeavoring to work up business from the sale of their favorita, sheets, to the swarm of pedestrians that ever’ ae Chestnut street a gay and attractive prom- | enarnde, Tbe newsboy to whom we invite the reader’s attention, was & typical representative of his peculiar craft—a veritable street Arab, with nothing to distinguish him from a dozen others of his calling, unless it was his independent bearing, and his sharp, intelligent brown eyes, His face was just an ordinary boyish one, rather sharp of features; his mouth was rather large, and his hair brown, and unkempt. His figure, however, was well developed for his age, which was about sixteen. His garments had seen long and rough service, but, rough though he appeared, he had no diffi- culty in disposing of his papers, and bis bundle was reduced to but half a dozen copfes when he had reached the vicinity of the State House, where, in answer to his call, a stranger inter- cepted him, a tall, well-built individual, with a full brown beard, a man about five and forty years of age, well dressed, and rather aristo- committed Kit, for that was the name by which the lad was known along Chestnut street, regarded his interrogator keenly. “Suicide?” he echoed. ‘ Haven’t had time to look, been so b’ilin’ over full o’ bizness, *Spect ef ye invest a cent inter an Item or News ye kin git onter the particulars.” Which answer did not appear to strike the stranger’s fancy, for, with a grunt of displea- sure, he walked rapidly away. At which Kit gave vent to a whistle of sur- prise, “Well, I should smile!” he commented. ‘“ I | Kit, the Bootblack Detective wonder what’s bitin’ him? He appeareds anxious to know who had committed suicidés but he warn’t willin’ to spend a cent to know, By J ingo! it rather hits me as sort 0’ crooked, ike. ; Watching the stranger, he saw that he kept straight down Chestnut street, toward the Delaware River. ‘“Reckon Dll-investigate who this party is, who has gone and settled bisself. ’Tain’t often I go yellin’ off papers without knowin’ jest what is in ’em.” Examination of one of his papers resulted in his finding an account of the particular suicide, which, by large head-lines, was made a feature of that afternoon’s news attraction, * Hello! Why ’tain’t a he who has kerflum- mixed, this time. Le’mme see: ‘Sbockin’ Sui- cide. A Beautiful Girl Found Dead, A Sup- posed Case of Self-Murder. Her Identity Un- known!’ ** Well! Dash me if there ain’t somethin’ sort o’ funny about this, after all,” he commented. ‘* Let’s see what she croaked about.” So he read as follows: “A singular case of suicide has just been reported | from the ——Ward. full details of which nave not as yet been received at this office. From what is snown. however, it appears that a beautiful girl committed suicide by stabbing herself, this morn- ing, somewhere between the hours of vine and ten o'clock, her body being yet warm when discovered by Officer ——, at a few minutes after ten. “The scene of the tragedy was a vacant lot, at the corner of P—— and L— streets, which is not fenced in, and is principally oecupied for the stor- age of carts belonging to the teamsters cf the neighborhood. The locality is rather isolated, there being but one row of houses within a block of the scene of the suicide,and they not commanding a ready view of the spot. “No oie in the neighborhood admits having seen the ¢ rl prior to the finding of her corpse, and as there has been no w: apon found, nor any clew dis- eovered about her person leading to her identifica- tion, the ease is surrounded with mystery. : "She is described as sbout seventeen vears of age, fairly well dressed, and very pretty. There are two knife wounds, one through and the other close to her heart. Such was the sensation of that afternoon’s paper, and Kit gave the article a careful peru- sab He was not an illiterate hoy, by any means, although be had attended school but a few weeks in his sixth year. He could read. write and spell, however, better than any newsboy on the street, was clever at arithmetic, and wasa shrewd lad in more ways than one. ms = name, so far as he knew, was Christopher OO], And now, standing there just after reading the item mentioned, it occurred to Kit that the stranger who wouldn’t invest a cent really bad some knowledge of the affair. Why he associated the man with the affair he could not say—-it was only an impression—but so fixed did it flnally become in bis mind that Kit resolved to gratify his curiosity by see- ing the suicide and learning all that he could about ber, _ Being nothing but a bootblack and newsboy, it did not seem an easy matter to obtain the
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Fs however, Kit, the Bootblack Detective. lesired view of the remains, but he was deter- mined, nevertheless, to try. Among other officers along the Chestnut street beat, he knew a big-hearted, ponderous Irish- man, by the name of Pat Pilgrim, who was very popular with the force, and the chief. He ad- mired Kit because the lad always seemed glad to meet him and was a lad of spirit—which a good policeman always likes. So that evening he hunted up the Pilgrim, as he called bim, who loomed up, a grim emblem of official watchfulness, at bis ** reserve” corner, He greeted Kit with a smile, “ Arrah, laddy buck! Phat for luck have ye bin havin’ the day?” “Tuck!” echoed Kit. ‘‘ Why, Pat, I’ve sold out, bours ago, and retired fron: bigness, to live on the interest of my appetite: But, ter sail right inter the barbor of bizness, Patsy—have ye heard of the susanside of the girl that shuf- fled off from a dirt-cart lot?” “Tndade I have, my boy. Phat of it? Phy is ye axin’ bout the gal? Shure an’ isn’t it nigh ivery mornin’ that some oue is found dead, an’ kilt, or suicided?” ‘* Guess yer’ right, But this case is no suicide, or my name is Cupid. I wanter git an inter- dooce to the stiff, I do, an’ I want you to give me a nod tew ther proper authorities.” “Git out! Phy go to tha corner, an tell bim what yer want, an’ that Pat Pilgrim sint yer. Then yez’ll be allright.” “ But bow’ll I find the coroner?” “Divila bitdo I know. Go down to the Cin- tra], an’ ax for a bar’] av money, an’ they wull give it to yez, if yez only tell’em Patsy Pilgrim sent yez.” “Ob! Vi bet they will! Anybow, Dll go and investigate,” Kit declared, and hurried away. * He bad no difficulty in finding the coroner’s office, but the coroner was not in, nor was any one else, : Not discouraged, Kit next sought the resi- dence of Simon Yale, whom he knew to be a young detective, struggling hard to make a rise jn the world, and thus keep the wolf from the door. He found the man at home, and was received with a courtesy which showed that Simon was a born and bred gentleman. “Treckon mebhe ye know me!” Kitremarked, by way of introducing himself. ‘* m Kit, boot- black, newsboy, and King of Kids,” “Tt strikes me [ have seen you before, my Jad. What can I do for vou?” _ Well, thet depends, S’pose you're in the _perfesh, yit?? ‘Well, yes, after a‘fashion,” Yale replied, with asmile. “I’m not overrun with business, Have you a job you want me to un- _ dertake?” < _ * Well, yes—leastwise, I havea job I wanter undertake, myself, and want yer ter help me, Now, suppose a cadaver were found w’ot no one ’ ‘ida or claimed—they’d morgueage it wouldn’t they?” “Tt would be beld at the Morgue, a certain length of time, yes.” _ Well, mebbe you read about the suicide w’ot’s in to-day’s papers.” | “Certainly. Rather an odd case, I take it?” “You bet. New, then, I want to find thet girl and see ber corpse, at once,” “What for?” < ** Because I do, that’s all, You're a detec- tive, an’ you can take me down to the Morgue, and git me an interdooce.” “Very well, I will willingly do so if it will be of any benefit to you. But, [ don’t think it will, as nothing to prove her identity bas been discovered, that Iam aware of, as yet. The girl will be interred in the Potter’s Field, among the unknown.” “ Jest bold up yer coupeigh, a minnit, ef yer please!” the boy returned ; ‘‘no Potter’s Field for her jist yet. How do yer know but et’s a lost sister 0’ mine, or some one else’s, hey? Now I ain’t goin’ ter tell ye all I know, or don’t know, but don’t mind admittin’ thet 1 think I hev struck a snap; so hard a-port, au’ let’s sail fer ther Morgue.” Yale looked at his watch. “Well, I will accommodate you,” he finally “although, unless you have positive knowledge about this ease it will be time and trouble for nothing, I am sure.” “Ye think I ain't smart, hey?” “Well, not that, but your youth and inex- perience will work dead against you, if you propose to go into this case as a detective,” “Can’t belp that. Inexpeer’nce never clumb over this chicken yet, you bet yer bottom trade dollar, °*Tain’t the biggest or fattest chap wot gits inter Congress, an’ ef I don’t occupy a per- forated mayor’s chair one 0’ these days, why ye can sbute me fer a red-headed mud-ben from ther swamps of Jersey.” ; “Allright. True grit is half the battle, and I hope you will succeed. We will see what luck we have in getting into the Morgue,” He was soon in readiness, and they set out. Kit’s cheeks and eyes glowed with anticipa- tion; be was taking his first steps in a new career, for, in fact, he had often and often dreamed of dropping his calling of newsboy to become « detective, and now that he was actuelly embarked in bis first case, he seemed inspired with a new life. If he should succeed in unearthing the secret of that beautiful girl’s death, a bright career was opened to him, And he resolved not to fail! CHAPTER II. KIT MAKES A RESCUE AND A DISCOVERY, ARRIVING at the Morgue, after a long tramp, Detective Yale experienced nv trouble in yain- ing admission for bimself and his young pard,. There chanced to be but three bodies ‘on shutter” at the time of their arrival, one of which was that of the beautiful suicide, The attendant accompanied tbe two visitors and uncovered the remains to the shoulders, upon which the weird lights of the dead-house shone with ghastly effect. Both Yale and Kit gave a little gasp of sur- prise, as they gazed upon the upturned features of the dead girl. She was well-formed, months over seventeen, probably. but a_ few er face, even in its deathly repose, was one of rare beauty. Her
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4 features were of a refined cast, and her wealth of disheveled hair was like in color to goldén sunshine. The region of the wounds, which bad caused her death, was covered with an oil blanket, which the attendant did not remove, “Has any one identified the corpse yet?” De- tective Yale asked. ‘No one knows anything about her.” ‘* What was the report of the inquest?” “ Deceased came to her death from the effects of two Inife-thrusts administered by her own hand,” ° ‘“* Was there a post-mortem examination?” “Thera was.” ‘What sort of a knife was used in inflicting the wound?” ‘A thin dirk, or some instrument of a like pattern.” Yale turned to Kit then. “Well, my friend, do you recognizs the young lady?” he asked. “T reckon not, boss; I’m nigh about sure I never saw her before. Still, thet ain’t sayin’ I can’t find out who she was, One thing’s purty sure—she didn’t commit no suicide; ’tain’t in sech girls to commit suicide like that.” “Ttis hard to tell what a woman will not do when crossed in love or attacked by misfors tune,” the attendant logically remarked, re-coy- ering the now marble-like body—a signal for the visitors to depart—which they did at once, Little was said on their return. At Market street Kit announced his intention of going in another direction, “ Well, then, good-night!” Yale said, cheerily. *‘T suppose’ shall run across you selling papers to-morrow?” ‘““Nary a paper for Christofer!” was the re- ply. ‘Henceforth, I’m Kit, the Detective an’ the King 0’ Kids, you bet! .So look ont fer de- velopments, fer ef ther Morgue won’t give up ther dead girl’s secret, the world will sooner or later, an’ Pil hey a grip on the world, close at hand. So long! Vil hire ye soon as the biz needs two heads tew the bar’l,” and Kit strode away with an air of importance, that brought a broad smile to Yale’s face. “The boy’s got it in him to succeed at some- thing, but I reckon he won’t make a meal out of that case,” After leaving the detective, Kit roamed up and down the streets aimlessly, for his mind was busied in cogitating over his new case, To solicit advice from regular members of the detective craft could do him little good, as where one might ‘‘nurse” his case for the sake of realizing benefit from it, ten ctbers would tell him he was a fool or a lunatic, which was an all-sufficient reason why he should go it alone—at least for tha present. It was eleven o'clock when he boarded a Ridge avenue car, en route for his lodgings, which were not far from the car depot of that line. He mide his home with a poor but kind widow woman and her daughter, both of whom were forced to work in woolen-mills for their living. It was partly to help them along that Kit ac- cepted of their frugal accommodations, and partly because he cherished a boyish liking for - Kit, the Bootblack Detective. , —— the daughter, plump and pretty livtle Do Darling, whom he counted about the sweetes aie of a girl between the Delaware and Man ayunuk, ¢ The car contained only two other passengers when Kit got aboard, one of whom was the conducior, a sour-looking iudividua], and the other, a rough-dressed, rowdyish-looking man, who, judging by bis dirt-begrimed face, was a mechanic, belonging to some of the down-town manufactories. His appearance went to show, too, that he had been imbibing more “ rats” than were con- sistent with sobriety. Hardly had, the Kid taken a seat, when the fellow staggered to his feet and plumped himself down beside the boy. ‘Tsay, young feller, give’s a chaw off o” yer plug, will ye?” he cried, blowing his unsavory breath full in Kit’s face, “T haven’t any—I don’t chew!” Kit replied, disgusted with the man. 1 “Ye don’t chew, hey? You rat, ye aire lyin’ ter me!” “No, I’m not lyin’ to ye!” Kit retorted, coolly eying the rough. ‘ Ain’t once enough to tell you?” ' “No, et ain’t! I’m Mike McGill, an’ yer beti I’m a sundowner, A feller w’ot sasses me ’most allers gits a thump in the jaw!” and he glared at the Kid ferociously. *T guess you won't kill any dead people,” the boy rettrned,'his cheeks blushing with anger. ‘ You mind your business,and Pilmind =~ caine!” The rough was,upon his feet in an instant. “Soe heer, ye littio son-of-a-gun, you've gotter get out ov this or I’ll fetch ye out!” he roared, . ‘““Go and set down!” Kit cried, at the same time giving the fellow a push that Janded him upm the opposite seat, while he sprung to his” fect himself, ‘‘ Now, you drunken snoozer, if you don’t behave yourself, or the conductor don’t put you off the car, Pll do someof the thumpin’ yo1’ve talked about.” “Lat up on this figbtin’,” you young ruffian! eriaa the econ'luctor, blustering into the car, ‘None of it, or out ye goes!” “Wha', you take this big loafer’s part? : You'd better git back onto tes platform, Mis- ter Macdoodle!” Kit cried, his eyes blazing with anger. “I don’t let no snoozer impose on meef Lam a light weight, and I can lick a round dozen like you, you Emerald of the Isle!” Evidently the knight of the bell-punch be-— lieved it, for be beat a retreat, with a growl. ; S, Kit sat down, still on his guard, however, lest the bully should come Junging at him. The car had crossed Girard avenue, by a dozen or more blocks, and was well up in the northwestern part of the city, when it stopped, and a passenger got on. a She was a trim-built, neatly-attired girl, o about Kit’s age, and was quite pretty of coun tenance, at oncereminding the young detective of the dead girl at the Morgue, for ber hair, he complexion, the shape of ber features, all were — sinzolarly like those of the unknown supposed — suicide. ae
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= There were traces of tears and a certain red- ness about her eyes, together with a worried expression, which indicated that she had been weeping, recently. She first gavea half-scared look, at the con- ductor, on taking her seat; then her gaze wan- dered to the face of Mike McGill, and then to the countenance of the King of Kids. The face of both the conductor and McGill seemed to give her a chill of horror, but she appeared to be reassured, when she gave Kita searching look, After giving her an opportunity to inventory his appearance be did not hesitate to return the compliment, and the longer he gazed at her, the deeper became his conviction that she must in some way be related to the dead beauty at the Morgue. After a wait of a couple of minutes, the un- civil-looking conductor re-entered the car, and paused before the fair passenger. - Kit noticed that a sudden pallor fkitted over her face as she searched in the velvet portemou- naie she carried, for her fare, then she fished out a coin, and handed it to the condnetor. “There is five cents, sir—it is all I have. I thought I had more but have not, Will that not take me a few squares? I want to find my sister!” she said, in a plaintive voice, Ha! her sister! Kit’s heart nearl Could it be true? the dead girl? ** Five cents ain’t en’uff to help ye find your sister!” the conductor snarled. ‘* Ye can’t work that racket on this car,” and he at once pulled the bell. “Oh! but, sir, let me explain. ger, sir—” ee up! Get out, or by me soul I'll put ye fe) jumped into his throat. as she indeed the sister of Tama stran- Kit was upon hisfeetin an instant, and pushed the conductor fiercely backward just as the cowardly wretch would have laid bands upon the terrified passenger, “ Stand back, you loafer!” Kit cried, fiercely. “‘T will pay this young lady’s fare—then, we'll get off and take another car, which, mebbe, a gentleman will run!” The conductor took the fare whick Kit handed him and then stopped the car. Kit and bis young cherge got off, she making no hesitation to following his lead. When they were upon the curb, and the car had passed on, the poor girl burst into tears, “Oh! you are so good and kind, and I can never thank you enough for what = have done. Ob! dear, what shall I do? J am lost, and do not know where I am, or what Iam go- ing to dol’ ‘It struck me thet way, when I first sot eyes on ye!” Kit agreed, ‘‘and I made up my mind to stand by ye, an’ see you through, like I allus do a boy when he’s gittin’ soaked—that is, onless he deserves it. I'll fix that conductor, to-mor- row, tho’. But, what’s your name, an’ where d'ye wanter go?’ ** My name is Lily Rogers, but I do not really know where I am, or where I want to go. Lam lost, and am hunting for my sister, Cassie, who left me last night,” Kit, the Bootblack Detective. Kit reflected a moment. It certainly would not be prudent to reveal to her his suspicions, or to suddenly shock her by declaring his belief that ber sister was dead, He must take time to mature his plans, and find out all he could, in the mean time, So, seeing another car approaching, he said: “Well, ye can bet I’m sorry fer ye. But, thet don’t do much good, It’s gettin’ too late fer searchin’ to-night, an’ so if you'll come along home wi’ me, an’ let the old lady an’ Dorrit care for ye, to-night, I'l give you my word we'll scare up your sister to-morrow. I ain’t a newsboy an’ boothblack fer nothin’, an’ ef I do say it, | know more about ol| Phila, in a minnit, than half the perlice ever finds out, ef they lives ter git as gray asa freckled centarian hen. So, here’s the car, an’ we'll soon git hum, where you'll be treated like a foreign actress in America.” Oh! you areso kind. How sball I ever be able to repay you?” ** Jest by sendin’ me a telefone dispatch, when any snoozer treats you mean, so that I ean lick blazes out o’ him, - But, here we are; this is Big Jimmy’s cair, an’ ye can bet he’s a gentle- man. They boarded the car, and obtained seats, but Kit made no attempt to question his fair com- panion, until they liad arrived as close to their destination as the cars would take them. Then they left the car, and the girl took his arm. “We've got a bit to walk, yet,” Kit said, ‘‘ butit won't take long. You do not belong in Philadelphia, eh?” **Oh! no, although we were born, and lived here, until six or seven years of age, Then, mother and fatber parted, and father went West and took us two children, and left mother and an elder son, here.” * Abt How old would your brother be, if “now living?” “Let me see—twenty-five years of age I be- lieve.” : Si did yer mother an’ father split up, er ‘“*T understand it was on account of property. They were very poor, hard-working people, un- til jast before the separation, when my mother fell heir to a fortune of ten thousand dollars in cash. Papa wanted some of it to invest in busi- ness, so that he would not haveto work so hard, in his old age, but mother refnsed to let kim bave a penny, and as the result a separation was arranged, and papa took sister and I, and went to California.” “Well?” “Papa was not prosperous for a number of years, in California, although he managed to eke out a livelibood, and after a while, he went to Idaho, where, as they say, out West, he * struck it rich,” “Did be hear from his wife an’ son?” “Not until two months ago, when a man came to the town where we were living—Bed Rock—and fetched the news that he had been sent; by mother, in search of us, and bad, by good fortune, experienced no trouble in finding us, father being pretty well known amon prominent capitalists. The story be broughi
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6 Kit, the Bootblack Detective. was to the effect that mother was dying of con- sumption, and being repentant and poverty- stricken, through my brother’s squandering all 5 her money, wanted to see us all, befure she ied, “Ah! Goon.” ‘“Pather being a stern man, refused to come East, but sent us, in bis stead, The messenger was to remain West, but stated that mother’s attorney would surely meet us on our arrivalin Puiladelphia, giving us his address and also a photograph of bim, On our arrival at the Pennsylvania depot, sure enough the gentleman did meet us, only to find me suffering froma severe sick headache. He took us to the Girard House, and registered me, suggesting that I rest at the hotel while be conducted Cassie to her mother’s house, returning for me, after I should have sought a couple of hours’ rest. I was only too glad to accept the proposition, as I was scarcely able to stand up. Since then, I have not been able to findor see either that man, or my sister. I shudder to imagine what may have happened!” CHAPTER III. BOY-AND-GIRL LOVE, By this time they bad arrived at the little two-story cottage, where the Widow Darling resided, soit gave Kitno chance to comment upon the the revelation his pretty protegee had thus far made, They entered a plainly-furnish- ed but cozy little sitting-room, and bere the Kid introduced Miss Rogers to Mrs, Darling and Dorrit, who welcomed her as Kit’s friend; and after’ Kit had made a brief narration ot what he himself bad learned, Lily was sur- prised to find that the Darlings could not do too much toward making her feel at home- All of which ple the young detective hugely. he wilow set out a tempting lunch, and after it was over, Lily expressed a desire to retire, as she was feeling very much fatigued. She was shown to the best room, and not long after, the widow sought her bed, which left Kit and Dorrit alone. Although “ only a mill-girl ”—and how lightly the term is applied to many a noble-bearted, conscientious toiler among the fair sex—Dorrit was well-bred, pretty of face and figure, and at once refined, modest and charming, both in speech and demeanor, The Darlings had come over from England. Dorrit’s father was a lineal descendant of a good family, Misfortunes, however, had beset him, and he had died, leaving his wife and child in destitute circumstances, For several years Kit had been an inmate of the Darling home, and he and Dorrit had be- come such fast friends that, childlike, they bad come to rather regard the one as made for the other, and to get a trifle jealous if their atten- tions were not paid strictly to each other, Hence it was, now that he found himself alone with her, that Kit was really not unpre- pared to get a straight out-and-out curtaiu-lec- ture for his temerity in daring to bring to the Darling cottage a girl as pretty as his little ' sweetheart. ** Well, sweetness, how have you been to- , day? ke queried, when the widow had vacated thé sittimg-room. : “On! as well as usual, although I am tired and discouraged,” “‘ Tired and discouraged, eh? Aud why dis- courage! ?? ‘* Ob! because the branch of work I am em- ployed at is overdone, and the company pro- poe to close that department indefinitely. So was notified that my services would not be And you, Kit, required any more, at present, are the cause of it.” Kit looked astonished, ‘“* T the cause of it?” he echoed, ‘* Well, now, jest eat me up fer a dozen o’ fried, ef I see how 1 can be the cause of it!” ‘* Well, you are, anyhow,” with a pout, “But box? Don't send a feller up fer a month cr six weeks without lettin’ him know jost what’s the matter.” “Well, you see, you used to—oh! you know you've escorted me as far as the mills, severa times.” * And what of that?” “What did you do, right in front of the office?” ‘“‘Why, I kissed you, and you didn’t object about it, at all.” ‘* All the same it caused my discharge, The proprietor’s son has been rather sweet on me, you see, and with ut any encouragement on my part, has apparently grown to believe that I eared forlim, Therefore when he saw you kiss me, this morning, and made mention of the fact to me, I must naturally suppose that it was through bis instigation I got my discharge.” “Oh! p'raps you're right. If so, I am ver sorry that 1 kissed you, an’ I'll leave the jo alone, after this, If his lips aire better than mine, why ye’r’ welcome to’em. I think I will retire, Au revoir!” And with the best feigned nonchalance, Kit arose, and took a step toward the stair- way, Dorrit was beside him, in a moment, however, and prevented his departure. “Don’t go, Kit! she pleaded, ‘ You have no rizht to put any misconstruction on what £ have said. If you take it that way it is I who have a right to be offended,” and she looked as if about to cry. ‘ ‘“Dorry, 1 know what you mean; but you needn’t get jealons, You see, this girl is in trouble, and I’m goin’ to see her through if it takes a leg, or two of ’em?” «That's all right, Kit; I admire you so much the more, for your noble spirit, But—but— seeing that you have referred to her, you know how—how bad I would feel if you were to fall in love with her, and forget all about poor me. Promise me tbis—that you won't fall in love with her, but will remain true and faithful to me. Please promise me, Kit, and I will be con- tent, for what you promise that I know you will do.” She clung to him so that, in spite of himself, tears sprung into his eyes, and seating himself, he drew her to his knee, ‘Little Dorrit,” he said, ‘your words tech — me in a soft spot. They saya gal’s sense ma- tures suddiner than a boy's, an’ ef that’sther
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I won't help ye a Kit, the Bootblack Detective. ef case, you orter not make me give myself away with z mere promise, We're both too young ter think o’ getting married fer a long time yet; but ef you’ll wait fer me I'll wait fer you. Does that suit, sweetheart?” **No, it doesn’t, If I have to wait forever, Tl find some one else,” “ All right, sweetheart; doso, That will give me a chance ter scrape a fortune tergether, git run fer mayor or guv’nor, an’ then, ef some pret- tier feller than I basn’t been along ter gobble on ter ye, why, I'll take you, pervidin’ you will be mine, then.” “*T won't! I wouldn’t have you, after such treatment.” “There, now, don’t git foxy. Remember all who travel with me will wear diamonds.” “*T wouldn’t have you then, Kit, if you were ballasted down with diamonds weighing a pound apiece, Sogo to bed,” and she tried to break away from his detaining grasp. * All right, Miss Dour But you'll be sorry for my discharge when you are sober,” Kit laughed, snatching a kiss, and then hurrying from the room, While Dorrit naturally found herself ina very unpleasant frame of mind. So much for boy and girl love! CHAPTER IV. DRAWING IT DOWN FINE, Wuen Kit arose the next morning, it was with a brain full of ideas, as to the future. Going down-stairs, he found that Lily was al- ready up, and assisting Dorrit at getting break- There were traces on the faces of, both which indicated that neither bad slept much, but both welcomed the Kid with a pleasant smileand glad greeting. After breakfast Kit aud bis protegee had another chat. “T have been thinking over yer case, Miss Rogers,” the boy said, ‘an’ I don’t opine it will take me long ter figger it out, by yer givin’ me a few more p’inters. What sort of a lookin’ map was it who met you at the depot?” “He was rather a good-looking, pleasant-sp- pearing person who would not naturally im- press one that he was bad. By the way, how- ever, I have one of the photo’s brought West, by Mr. Schofield. Here it is.” She produced a card photograph, and gave it to Kit, who needed but one glance at it to tell him it was the very person who had accosted him on Chestnut street, and so aroused his curiosity. Kit had noted every feature of that man’s face well, and the photographed face was identical with it. ve was watching him anxiously. “You have seen that person before?” she asked, evidently judging that be bad, “T have,” he replied, “‘and, Miss Rogers, I set thet aire feller down fer a shark, you bet! The'r’ ain’t no more Blackstun about him than thar is about my blackin’-hox, Now, see heer, don’t yer git scart, but he brave. Ef ye don’t, bit. Ef you'll promise to be @man—that is, brave as a man—an’ give me full charge of the case, ’ll stand by you through thick an’ thin, till we sift ther hull bizness to ther bottom, Will you promise?’ **Oh! yes, willingly. Young though you are, I believe you are brave and honest, and I have the greatest of reliance in you.” “Thank you! VPll prove to you thet ’ma great detective.” ‘“You are so kind and good—I do not know what Ishould do but for you,” and with tear- ful eyes, and girlish impetuosity, she threw her arms about his neck and kissed him. Luckily, Dorrit was not in the room, for which Kit was very thankful! ‘“*Be calm now,” he said, “‘and brave ‘as a menagery tiger, Thar’s nothin’ like grit and backbone, and I allow that I’ve got enuff of that for the two of us. Now, let me see: This professed lawyer’s name?” ‘* Samuel Sands,” “‘Sands—Sands? There is a lawyer of that name; but, ’tain’t this snoozer,” ‘Oh! sir, do not keep me in suspense, Do you think my sister has met with foul play? Do not deceive me for I believe you know some- thing about her, and I am prepared now to hear the worst.” ; Kit took a searching glance, and felt positive that she had not overrated her strength; so he answered; “T am afraid something has gone wrong, Miss Rogers, but I cannot unnecessarily alarm you while there is a hope ter hang on ter. Tell me—d’ye remember where the lawyer said your mother lived?” “JT believe he mentioned something about P— or L— streets, but I am not positive.” “You are right. Now, another thing, You got on the cars with but little money. Did your sister have much?” “Oh, yes; she being the elder, she carried the money. Thatis what makes me fear that she has met with foul play. I had a couple of dollars in change, but spent it in a vain attempt to reach P—— and L street, for every one seemed to misdirect me.” “How much money did your sister carry with ber?” “She bad near twenty-three hundred dollars. Two thousand of that was to go to our mother, toward her doctors’ bills and funeral expenses, in case of her death,” “You put up at the Girard House?” “The man said it was the Girard, Iam sure I don’t know, being a stranger.” ‘* Did you register your own name?” “No, sir; I was talking with sister while he wrote it for me.” : “What room did ye have?” ‘Number 5, It was up one flight of stairs.” **Do you think you would know the place again if you was to see it?” “T hardly think so; yet I might.” *Do you know what fer lookin’ front it had?” “Red brick—the same as’most all the build- ings.” ““Then ye weren’t at the Girard, that’s cer- tain, an’ et would most likely take a Dutch Italyun search-warrant ter find out where ye was, What about your baggage?” “We only brought large sachels, which he Me
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» gs Kit, the Bootblack Detective. took outside, stating that he would send them to mother’s. This was at the depot.” Kit remained silent, scratching away at his head in an amusing manner, “Well, Miss Rogers, I tell you just what I know about matters. The chancesare very big thet this aire a sportin’ detective case thet I hev got hold of—leastwise thet’s the way it looks like tome, As you reckoned, there’s every rea- son ter believe thet yer sister has been foully dealt with.” : “Oh, dear! oh, dear—can it be true? Oh, only tell me that it is not so!” and Lily buried her face in her hands, ‘“There, now, remember what ye promised. If it turns out that your sister is dead, there’s only one thing to do!” “What is that?” “Why, take ther trail of vengeance, and sift the case to the bottom, and hunt your sister’s murderer down to death. That’s me, an’ I’m Kit, the Bootblack Detective frum -Philamydel- phia, Pa,!” In a ringing tone the young detective uttered the words, as he sprung erect, and held one hand tragically aloft, whiie Lily, kneeling at bis feet, gazed piteously up into his boyish, manly face. * And you will—” “JT will stand by you, little lady, till the wrong has been rightec; through fire and wa- ter, we will go, if necessary, till justice has bin did! “Thank God! Bless you, Kit,” and at the words, faintly uttered, she sunk back upon the floor, in a dead swoon. Realizing only too keenly, from Kit’s words and manner that her sister wasindeed dead, she had borne up under the heavy blow, until no longer able to endure the agony that over- whelmed ber. CHAPTER V. MCKELVEY’S VERDICT. LirtinG the senseless girl to a lounge, Kit summoned Dorrit, and briefly related what had happened, Restoratives were applied, but when Lily once more opened her eyes, her speech was wild and incoherent, and it became obvious that her mind was wandering. A doctor who resided in the neighborhood was immediately called, and at once announced end the girl was in great danger from brain ever, ** You can help her, can’t you?” Kit anxiously inquired. for never having had a day’s sickness in bis life, he had no idea of what the doctor’s words implied. ‘Ob! yes, I can bring her through all right, without doubt, but if brain fever really sets in, the case will take weeks of time.” ‘*She bas had a shock caused by her sister’s death, an’ bein’ out 0’ funds an’ friends, I took ber in, an’ will put up fer the doctor’s bill, %eause she aire good an’ square.” ** You will? the physician demanded, regard- ing Kit with some surprise. ‘Yes, I will!” promptly. ‘I ain’t nothin’ but a bootblack an’ newsboy, but I’ve got nigh eighty dollars saved up, ef 1 don’t wear broad- cloth; an’ when the young leddy suffers for a 4 Pek medicine or grub, we won't know anything about et—heigh, Dorrit?” ‘*T will do what I can for her, I am sure,” Dorrit replied, earnestly. ‘Well, my dear boy, you have a big heart, I see, and the best of my skill] and medical at- tendance shall not cost you a cent, A boy of your principles deserves encouragement, and, as for Miss Dorrit, I see clearly that she will make a capital nurse, So now, we will try and get the patient upon her feet again, within as few days as is consistent with her future good health.” And after administering remedies, the kind physician took his departure, promising to re- turn as often as his professional services would be necessary. ‘Oh, you bet thet feller is a hyacinth!” Kit admiringly declared, after the doctor’s depart- ure. ‘Til go my last red spot on him, every time, And now, Dotty, if you care anything for the Kid, you take good care of our patient, while I skip fortown, I tell ye, I’ve got sum scrumptious detective work to do, what’ll inake me want a dry shirt on every two days; but I’m goin’ thr’w’ with it, ef it takesa leg. If the rogues foller me, they’ll all wear diamonds— pinned to their minds!” * But, Kit, what if—” “Tut, tut, now; sbe won't die, while ’'m gone, You do just what the Doc says, and she’ll be all right.” And as Dorrit, whese tender little heart yearned and throbbed for Kit, promised to do her best to nurse the patient, the young detective took his departure, ‘*Golly! my cranium will bu’st, ef I don’t get shut o’ some o’ these ideas what l’ve got ter foller up” he muttered, as he rode away into town. “Ive got more ideas condensed inter this ’ere skull, than thar’s lager in a bar’, ter say nothin’ erbout ther unsteady legs, and so forth. Now then, let me set my dynamo inter motion,” After some deliberation, he resolved to visit Detective Yale again, and have him accom- pany him on a second yisit to the Morgue, Just what be would doin the way of action after such a visit, he did not really know, but it occurred to him that another view of the dead girl might be the means of suggesting 'some- thing new to him. He found Yale at home, who after some coax- ing, consented to again accompany him to the. dead-house. The trip was made without incident, but on their arrival at the rooms a surprise was await- ing them, “* The body has been identified, and removed by relatives,” was the answer to their inquiry. ** Removed!” Kit echoed. ‘‘ When? By whom? Where?” ‘Dunno nothin’ about it!” the keeper replied, crustily. ‘‘I received my orders to surrender it, an’ I did so,” : ‘You surely must know who you surrendered it to?? Yale spoke up. "5 “Well, what of it, if I do? I’ve no business to tell ye. Go to the coroner, Who are you, anyhow?” “That will inform you who Iam,” Yale re- Te ci]
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_—a torted, exhibiting his badge, ‘‘and I might add, that by a coming change of City Government, 4 ; a more courteous Morgue official could be se- cured.” “Indeed! Well, I run this Morgue, and Pll be courteous to who I like. So you can get ; out! As there appeared to be nothing else to do, the two friends took their departure, “The only thing now 1s to visit the coroner,” Yale decided, ‘‘and there is no need even of ae if the dead girl’s friends have removed er, { ‘They hain’t removed—-her friends hain’t!” Kit declared, emphatically. ‘‘ Yale, a murder, and a robbery, has been done, an’ one o’ ther biggest pieces of rascality is afoot that ever you hear tell of—you just believe me, for I’m dead onto the trail. I can’t give ye any more of it now, but ef ye wanter foller me, you'll wear diamonds, one o’ these days.” ‘*T believe you're crazy, boy.” AN right. Skip out, now, or I might mur- der ye, wi’ a cleaver!” “Well, I'll not skip. I’ve nothing else to do, and Pll stick by you!” i ‘*Then tew ther eoroner’s we go, Ye kin do i ther talkin’, some o’ the time, anybow.” ; And to the coroner’s they did go. Yale had met the official before, and was re- cognized by bim. ‘Well, sir, what can I do for you?” was the 0 gentleman’s query. “We came to investigate, sir, in regard to the disposition of yesterday’s case of suicide,” Yale replied, ( “Ah! yes, No investigation is required. ’ The remains were turned over to the relatives, this morning.” | ‘* But, we have reason to believe, that an in- / vestigation is needed. Who were the parties = oe p who claimed to identify the Lik ¢ ‘William and Sarah Walker, of 68 State i street, Chicago, The girl was the gentleman’s a sister, who had been missing, some days, while temporarily deranged. Believing her to be en route for the East, they gave chase, and arrived in Philadelphia, only to learn of the suicide, and to identify the remains,” ‘Indeed! Can you give me a description of the parties?” “Yes. The man was about twenty-nine or thirty, and resembled the dead girl. He was well dressed. The woman was younger, and a brunette.” “Did you order a release of the remains, without investigating whether these people were from State street, Chicago?” b ‘* Tt is our custom to do so when there is reas- Ae onsble evidence that the parties are what they | a represent,” a The coroner, like all officers, evidently did not A feel like being questioned too closely, a fact which Kit noticed, and gave Yale a nudge to - “ come off,” “ One mere question,” Yale persisted: ‘ Who removed the body from the ‘the rink,’ to pre- pare it for burial—what undertaker I mean?” B “McKelvey, I believe.” a “He obtained a permit, I suppose, for the re- = moval of the body, from the city?” ‘ Kit, the Bootblack Detective. 9 “ Without doubt.” With a bow, Yale thanked him, and, accom- panied by Kit, left the office, ‘By the howlin’ mud- hens!” Kit remarked when they reached the street,” thet feller didn’t keer a continental whetber he worked his lips, or not, did he?” ‘Of course not; he isn’t paid to talk. What next?” Oh! we've got to foller the trail,” “ Clear to Chicago?” ** Yes, ef necessary, but it isn’t, I don’t think— not yet, at least. D’ye know where McKelvey, ther stiff stowaway, hangs out?” “‘T don’t know bis address,” “Well, we'll tackle a drug store fer a Di- rectory, then,” ‘Lhe Directory was found, and also the under- taker’s address—by which time it was well along toward noon. “Rif we hurry up we may get on track of the body, yet!” Kit said eagerly. Ss Now, see here!” Yale protested, decidedly, “JT want to understand more thanIdo. Sup- pose you find the body—how is that to benefit you? I tell you, you’ve got to let me into the whole business, if we are to work together. Make a clean breast of what you know and I pledge my honor tbat your confidence will not misplaced, but that 1 will see you through to the end of the game.” “Kit did not reply at_once. He cogitated awhile then answered: ‘I'll open the sardine- box an’ let ye examin’ an’ pass yer opinion, as we ride along in the cars,” Accordingly, when they were aboard the street car, the Kid gave the elder detective u detailed account of the case, the same, sub- stantially as it has been given to the reader. Yale’s face manifested continued surprise as he listened. “Well, ’m blamed if you haven't struck a culiar case,” he declared, and one that must have careful handling, Our first move is plain. We must find the body,and thus possibly also et hold of the very, man we want, There’s a leep game being played, and we will work like beavers to ferret it out, even if we don’t geta cent for our trouble, It would materially aid us, if the gir] Lily was able to go with us.” Iu due time they arrived at the undertaking establishment of Michael McKelvey, but found Mike out. In answer to an inquiry as to his where- abouts, the good Mrs. McK, made answer: “Shore, if it’s Moike yez want, tha divil’s own lusher, ye’ll find him over yohnder, for- ninst the street across, in Pat McGuigan’s, sphendin’ ivery dollar he makes, playin’ skhin- ny poker, or some ither Satan’s own game av the like. Troth, an’ it’s poker he'll get when he comes back again, Sorry’s tha day I iver mar- ried him, at all, at all!” So over to McGuigan’s Kit and his pard went, and found Mr, McKelvey in the middle of the room, singing and dancing, alternately, and holding a glass of gin above his head in one hand, and a roll of bank notes in the other, “ Shure it’s dhrinkin’ to ould Tipperary, Tipperary! Tipperary—”
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. — Then Michael paused long enough to put down his drink. He was a typical son of the Emerald Isle, and looked as if he might be able to love it, with thesame fervor that he loved the ‘“ stom- ache bitters,” which was coloring his nose. When he had gurgled down the gin, the young detective stepped up to him and tapped him on the sheulder. “Say, hello, boss—wie ghats? Be ye old Mike McKelvey the stiff-planter?” “ Phat’s that yer say, ye miserable gutter- snipe? Moike McKelvey the stiff-planter, is it ye say? Begorra, an’ it’s a mind to kick the stiffenin’ out the loikes av yez, sol have, Stiff- planter, indade! Phy, any one in the town will tell yez that I’m a respictable undertaker, Stiff- planter, indade! Shure yez have no respict for tha departed, and yez ought to be trounced within the anches av yer loife!” “Oh! there, now; don’t swaller yourself, I was only firin’ astiffat ye. A stiff is a joke, you know. But, come now, you're the Hon- orable Michael McKelvey, M. P., the under- taker—'M. P.’? meanin’ money plenty an’ mighty polite in yer biz?” “ Arrah, boy, it’s strikin’ it ye be, now. It’s Mike McKelvey Lam, and the next delegate to the convintion, from this disthrict, “* McKelvey! MeKelveyt - Big Mickey McKelvey, Oh! say did yez ever git onto McKelvey.’ But phat is it you want, boy?” “ We want you!” Kit responded, with a seri- ous air, ‘ This gent, here, iz a detective, Mr. Yale, an’ you’re the man we want to see!” ‘* Well, ye sees me, don’t yez?” the manipula- tor of coffins growled, a belligerent gleam in his eyes. ‘I’m all here, begorra!” Yale spoke, interposing: “We enlled to see you on a little private business, but before we come to that, let’s all imbibe a little Emerald dew!” “ Arrah! that’s the name for it! But, my friend, if it’s bizness ye’d be transactin’ ye'll have to go across the way to the ould woman. Shure she’s waitin’ for me wid a six-fut poker an’ a coffin 0 my size right handy.” ‘Ob! it will not be necessary for you toleave here. Take your drink; then we'll retire to the room yonder for a bit of private conversation. The drinks wera bad, and paid for; then the trio became seated in the next room, the door closed, Yale, then, said: ‘Now, look here, McKelvey, we want you to give usa straight tip about what we are going to ask you, for if you don’t, up you go until the case is settled.” “Tt’s about the girrul, thin?” “ Yes—the one you took from the Morgue, this morpin’.” “Shure, I tho’t so, Oi’ve bin ixspectin’ to see a copper along after me.” ‘Well, if you go straight, no one will be troubled. Where is the girl?” “ By the divil I don’t know. She might be in Tipperary for all I know.” © Well, go on and tell what you do know.” “ Paith, an’ I will do that same, I was visht- ed by tha loikes av a mon, this mornin’, who had a permit, for fotchin’ a body from tha Morgue. He wanted me to be afther fotchin’ it here, puttin’ it in a coffin, an’ box, afther how he’d be takin’ it away, into tha couvthry to bury it. Thanekin’ it all right, I did tha job, an’ a divila better job ye ever saw, an’ afther I hed it all ready, the feller driv’ up in a tmilk-wagon— moind yez, now, a milk wagon—an’ we loaded in the corpus, and he driv’ off, not forgittin’ to give me two bundrid dollars, when I axed him only for one! That was phat made me thinkstrange, an’ be lookin’ for the loikcs av an ossifer to be throttin’ around.” ** He had a milk-wagon, eh? on it?” ‘*Be me soul, I didn’t moind, tho’ I did take notice ay Cbesther county.” ‘* What fer horse? asked Kit. “Shure an’ it wasa black horse, wid a big black spot on his tail—no, a big white spot it was, ‘* What was the width of the wagon-tires?” “ Git out! Phat for d’ye think I’d be measur- in’ the wagon-tires?” “Well, describe ther feller.” ‘* He was five fut six, I guesses, slightly built, an’ hed hair the color av a well-wornt pair av corduroy breeches, an’ a belindy. mustache—it’s belindy ye cail’em. He had a sear up an’ down over wan eyebrow, wore good clothes, a plu hat, an’ axed me good-mairnin’, an’ divil a bit see’d vei more ay him.” “Could it be seen that he had the coffin in the wagon?” ‘“Divil a bit. He let the curth’in down bebind, an there was a high-back seat in froont.” ‘* Which way did he go?” ** North.” “ Have you any cf the money he paid you?” “Sbure [bsve, Here's a bere an Furst Natiouval Bank av Boise City, Idaho, an’ divil a bit do I know av sich a bank.” Having his money with him, Kit made an ex- change; then he and Yale took their departure. “So far, so good!” Kit decided, as they walk- ed along. ‘‘ What d’ye think *bout our progres- sion so fur, Yale Coilege?” “ We've settled one point,” the detective an- swered, ‘ That Boise City note belonged to the girl, and the man, or parties, who have the body, very likely have the rest of the money. But the trail is deucedly faint yet, and it will put us at our wits’ end to get on it again,” “ Mebbe; but fer all that, we won't throw up ther sponge yet, by a long shot, Ther first next move is ter strike a ‘elegraph-office an’ investi- gate ther case of William and Sarah Walker, of 68 State street, Chicago. After that we must try and find out about the mother and brother of these two Rogers sisters.” The trail, indeed, promised to be long and difficult to follow, What name was CHAPTER VI. SUPPOSING THE CASE. Tuk telegraph office was visited and a tele- gram was sent to the chief of police, Chicago, viz:
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. 11, “Find out if William or Sarah Valker reside at | 68 State street, or have lived there, Answer quick. “Vaux, Delic.rve.” ‘We can now take time ter stow away some grub in our reposertory,” Kit seid, **forI feel as hungry as an Atlantic City muskeeter, in a dull season.” When they returned to the telegraph office, an answer awaited them, from Chicago: *Talse address, No such named parties ever there!” “That settles that part of the question, any- how,” Kit said, in disgust, ‘‘ Now, does it oc- eur to you what them fellers an’ the woman are going to do with ther body?” Yale remained in a brown study for several minutes, then shook his head: ‘*No, I'll be hanged if I can form any idea, at all. It isa puzzle to me.” “T's a sockdolager, you bet! But, as I said, once before, there’s no give’er up an’ you fol- | ler me an’ you'll wear diamonds, Now, with nothin’ pertic’ to work on, let’s suppose. Tl propose, an’ you kin toll the grist ’cordin’ ter yer compunksbuns,” “All right, go akead, Don’t waste breath uselessly, for we may need an unlimited supply, ere long.” “Don’t ye fear fer Christofer. I’ve got more wind than a cyclone, what cavorts around, all year. In the first place, s’posin’ the gal was murdered; an’ we’ve got it in our noddles thet she wer’. Now what fer was she killed? I opine, because she had money.” ‘Yes; that is most probable.” “Well, ef murdered for money, the fellers wot did et, an’ ther feller, Schofield, war in connivance, an’ ef war a put-up job,” encod reasoning for a green hand,” admitted ale, ‘Takin’ et as a plot, there ’peers to be three connivees, at this end o’ the route—the young feller, the woman, an’ the lawyer, Sands,” ** Quite right, again.” “The other feller, Schofield, is supposedly at the other end 0? the line, eh?” ** Correct.” ““Well, ef the job was put up, ter bleach old man Rogers out 0’ some 0” bis surplus, an’ these Eastern parties gobble it, et stands purty rea- sonable thet Schofield gets no plum out er the uddin’, unless there’s a meetin’ atwixt the ‘our, “Right you are, They will doubtless meet, soniewhere, and divide the boodle,” ** Not so fast. Now, that’s the end-up of round first. Time!" Now, then, keepin’ on fig- gerin’ on the same slate, the mother of the gals might be dead.” + “ Very likely.” ** An’ the son be a durned rascal, such as Phila’ aire full of, who wouldn’t stop at no dirty crime to bleach some one out 0’ swag,” “Barely possible, Not many years agoa fel- low killed his sister in cold blood to get posses- | sion of her cash; I remember the case.” * Jes’so, Well, s\pose some more:—The mo- ther bein’ dead, an’ the son bein’ linked in wi’ | blacklegs, puts up the job to git the oe here, and ro | %em—mebbe to murder ’em both, In that case an’ the job’were did, when old man Rogers paddled off wi’out a will, the son would stan’ in fer the puddin’, eh?” “Maybe, That would depend a good deal on circumstances, yeu know,” “True, but a feicr who would do all I’ve bin firin’ off, orfer be smart enuff ter work the racket. Well, s’posin’ bavin’ killed one gel, an’ got away wi’ her, an’ left a tool bebind ¢> finish up tother one, the Son and Co. would start fer Idaho; d@ye think thev’d be apt to cart the dead gal along with %m way out there?” “ Heavens, no! That would be next to an im- possibility ; and, what possible object could they have, in so doing?” ‘* Dunno, ‘less they were ter play brigand, and offer the body to old Rogers, fer ransom money.” ‘“‘ Boy! you have some extraordinary ideas!” ‘So! Waal, now, boss, ye kin bet there’s bin many a meal-time in my life when ideas was all Thad to chaw on; aa’ I tho’t myself in luck, ef I could wrassle enuff o’’em to skeer up a sup- per. But, to s’posin’ the case, some more. The gang is either goin’to take the girl back West, or bury her, to-night, out in the c: untry, some- ’er’s, on the still, Which appears the most prob- able to you?” “Why, that they will bury ber, of course.” “Then, what did they take her from the Mor- gue for? The city would have buried her, free gratis.” ‘Well, as to that, they may bave thought Lily would find her sister, and raise a lue and ery of murder, thus exploding the suicide theory, and settiog the authorities into action!” ‘Well, mebbe ye” right, but DVve got a queer idea ye ain’t. 1 know dashed well they wouldn’t try to cart the corpse ’way out there ef they th.’t they were sized up; hut, ye see, the general impression has been left that the gal committed suicide.” During this conversation, they had left the telegraph office, and bad walked a cousiderable distance. As they continued along, Yale be- came silent, and believing bim to be in a study, Kit did not uige him to talk, but busied himself with bis own thoughts, Further on, they entered a summer beer-gar- den, and when they were seated at the table, Yale leaned forward on the table, burying his face in his hands. He did not move for some time; so to arouse him, Kit ordered up the beers, “Come, Yale,” he said, when the glasses ¥. ere before them), “‘ there’s some Dutch disturbance, to keep your wits from getting dry.” The detective raised his head, and Kit per- ceived, for the first time, that his eyes were tear-filled, “Why, you snoozer, what’s the matter with you? hat ye eryin’ about?” the Kid demand- ed, anxiously and wonderingly. “Oh! nothing much. I guess I don’t feel well, and you will have to excuse me from further duty to-day, Come around in the morning, and I will he prepared to work.” They drank the beer, and then Yale arose, “Tl go home now, I guess, Come around in the morning, Good-night!” And be was gone ere the Kootblack Detective” could express his astonishment,
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. a ED Kit did not go immeiiately, but sat a long while, planning and studying, then he took his departure, and for two hours was busy. First he went to a place where he was able to secure the Directory of that year, and several years back, The names of the Rogers family were by no means wanting; but among the list he did not seen) to find the ones that he calculated were the wife and son of Lily’s father, He next went to the depots, leading out ‘of the city, and telegraphed to all station-agents within a radius of twenty miles, asking if a corpse, accompanied by two or three people, had left such station that day, with orders to report if so; or if any such parties should ap- pear within five days—signing himself Kit, the Bootblack Detective. This done, he boarded a ear, and ‘was soon back once more at the bumble home of the Dar- lings. CHAPTER VII. YALE’S SECRET, ARRIVED at the cottage, Kit was delighted to find Lily sitting up in bed, and talking rational- ly enough to Dorrit and Doctor Dean. The sick girl’s face lit up with pleasure and anticipation, as she saw the Kid, which Dorrit noticed with a quick heart-pang. ** Good-evening, my boy,” tive doctor said, rising and shaking hands with Kit, ‘Glad to see you home safe and sound, What do you think of our patient?” “Why, sbe looks as well as a spring-chicken in September,” Kit declared. ‘*So you've fetched her around sooner than you expected, hey?” * Well, yes. Misa Rogers will be quite well and able to be out to-morrow, She persists, however, in telling me that she is going on a trail of vengeance, and you are to accompany her. So I have about come to the conclusion that you two are going out West, to kill In- dians.” ‘*Nary an Injun on our plate! Thar ain’t no eredit in killin’ lojuns no more. They’re purty near petered out, so fur as fun is concerned, you bet! The sort o’ game we're goin’ a-gun- nin’ fer is white-faced and black-hearted scoun- drels,” “ Well, keep your guest quiet, and from con- versing on any subject that will tend to excite her in the least, and you will be surprised to sea her up ahead of you in the morning.” The physician then departed, refusing posi- tively to take any remuneration for bis ser- vices, and wishing the young people the best of success, Lily asked no questions about her sister, much to Kit’s relief, and after a little chat with the girls, the youthful detective retired to his bed, feeling pretty well tired out, He awoke bright and early the next morning, however, feeling much refreshed; but, early as he was up, the girls were ahead of him, and while Dorrit got breakfast Kit and Lily sat on ns front door-step, and engaged in conversa- on. ‘You need not be afraid to tell me the parti- culars now,” Lily said, “for the first shock is over, and knowing my sister is dead, I am prepared to hear all, aud to brave everything!” Accordingly, in his blunt but kindly way, the Kid related all that he deemed advisable, of the case, including the mystery of the disap- pearance of the remains of the ill-fated Cassie. Lily listened attentively, and although she could but bave been deeply grieved, she main- tained a sort of stolid compusure. ‘Do you think we can recover the body?” she asked, when ke had finished. *“T donot know. Ill work for that end, Miss Lily, an’ work as I never worked before, If we never get the body, the murderer of your sister shall not escape. I’m but a kid yet, but the roffian or ruffians will find me a King of Kids before I get through!” “Your efforts, Kit, shall not go unrewarded, My father is a man of wealth and a man of generous impulses, and you do what you can toward solving this mystery and he will make you rich,” “Well wait till we earn ’em afore we count on riches, Now, l-want your father’s telegraph address,” “A telegram would reach him at Boise. pe Idaho. He is there on‘business every day. ig name is Stephen Rogers,” **Good! Now, as you kin be of but little aid to me to-day, you jest remain heer; but be ready for the keers at any minnit. I’m hot onter the trail, and ther’s no tellin’ what devel- opments may jump up an’ kick a feller twixt now an’ night, otty an’ you are gettin’ on nice, an’ you will be better here than tryin’ ter scoct heer an’ there wi’ me.” “T will do just as you recommend, You have proven yourself my friend, and I place implicit trust and confidence in you, You are more than a bero in my eyes.” ‘*That’s all squerect! Jest keep the hero part in yer eyes, an’ don’t let et settle eny further down round yer heart, or Dotty might get jealous.” Breakfast was ready by this time, and they partook of a substantial repast, after which Kit took bis departure for down town, On his way he gave his shabby attire a quiet inspection, ‘“There’s no use 0’ talkin’, these ’ere togs ain’t fit fer my biz no more, A feller orter dress ‘eordin’ ter his persish. Dunno whethor I Kin afford ter spruce up or not. My bank account aire edgin’ down to a transparent thickness.” In telegraphing the night before be certainly had lowered his little stock of funds to an alarm- ing extent. But he resolved to fix up a little at all hazards; so he sought a cheap clothing-house, and soon, at a moderate expense, had so altered his personal appearance that he was startled when he took a view of himself in the glass, Tbus rehabilitated, he proceeded to learn con- Graing tbe telegrams he had sent the night be- ore. From the Philadelphia and Reading R. R. were no satisfactory reports, so he next tried the Pennsylvania road, and his heart gave a leap of exultation as he read: “ Corpse and three persons, per description, arrived in milk-wagon to-day, ten-half. Left, next train west, for Washington, Pa.” bt
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ae Ta thing |? way, isable? —— The dispatch was dated the previous day. It came from Vila Nova Station, on the main line of the P, R. R. So that after all, Kit had not missed his reck- oning, in believing that the body would be taken westward, Without delay, be started for the bouse in which the detective had rooms, On his arrival, the landlady herself answered his summons, : “Ts Mr. Yale in?” Kit asked. “Mr, Yale, is it? Faith an’ he wint into the cimetairy, over yonder, but a bit ago, and ye’ll loike is not find him there, now, sur.” Bowing, Kit made his way to the cemetery in- dicated—a little-used burial-place—and entered. After a short search, he found Yale, kneeling beside a grave, and arranging some growing plants. Kit approached close behind the kneeling man, without being discovered, and read the inscrip- tion upon the head-stone, ere Yale looked around: SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF MARGARET YALE ROGERS, AGED 54 YEARS, Dizp, In JEsus, May 38, 188—, The perusal caused Kit to utter a little cry of surprise, at which Yale looked up with a start. “Kit!” he ejaculated. ‘It's me, old feller. But, dash me, if I ex- pected to tumble onto a surprise like this!” “Tt is just as well vou came, for I should have told you to-day. Kit, you are one of the best boys ever born, and you can bet you have a friend, forever, in me. Until you told me about_the circumstances of your case yester- day, I had no idea it was my dead’ sister’s face I looked upon at the Morgue, and while I did what I could yesterday, it finally broke me all up, to find I could do so little, while you, a disinterested stranger, were working so faith- fully. May God ever bless and prosper you!” “There, now, don’t git broke up again. Ther trail is hotter thaa ever, an’ we'll make R«me howl afore we’re done. But, now, tell us about yourself and your mother.” “She died two yeurs ago in May—may God receive her soul into Heaven! I’ve been a bad boy, in the past, Kit; the report Schofield took West about me was right, though I do not know the man from Adam, I had akind, over- indulgent mother, aud J spent her money on dissipation, until all but a few hundred dollars was gone, and she died, broken-hearted. Her dying request was that I should be a man, and I have braced up since then, and lived without reproach, The name of Yale—mother’s maiden name—was adopted, after the separation.” “Tt kinder struck me thet somethin’ was queer, when you hed tears in yer eyes, last night. But, now, look bere: we hain’t got no time to spare. Bizness is bizness; ef ye don’t take in a cent, an’ ye foller me, you'll wear dia- monds. After I left you, last night, I tele- graphed ter find out where the gang boarded e cars with the body.” Kit, the Bootblack Detective. 18 Yale brightened up. His despondency and sorrow seemed to vanish, and eagerness to fol- low the trail was mauifested in bis eyes. “Well?” ‘“This mornin’ I hit the bull’s-eye!” “ What?” “ Surer than hair perdcoces electric light on a cat’s back. Heer, read this, will ye?’ Yale glanced over the message. “Hey? <Ain’t thet persimmons an’ lime-juice salad fer ye? We've struck the trail, fer fact; an’ now thar’s only one thing thet gripes me in the gripsack: Where’s the collat ter come from to boost us along after the game?” Yale was silent a moment. “Don’t let that worry you,” be finally said. “Tve got no money to speek of, but I can raise some, I bhavea pair of diamond earrings that cost three thousand dollars. I can realize a thousand on them, at any time; they were to have been a bridal present toa girl | was to be married to, but she jilted me because I made a sot of myself!” “Then, go leave em in care of Uncle Three- Balls, immediately. Time is money, now.” “True, But, let me see; these parties are going to Washington, Pa, If they intend going on West, from there, they will most likely strike for the Baltimore and Obio Railroad, take a southwestern course, and then aim for Idaho, direct, thus calculating to throw any possible pursuers off the trail.” ‘‘ Mebbe. An’ they’ll embalm the corpse, and take it with them?’ “That would be their only plan if it is their intention to make it the price of a ransom, as now seems to be the only rev sonable theory.” “Well, pow, I’m purty sky-blue cabbage,” Kit declared, with a grin; ‘‘but Vl diet on buckshot puddin’, ef you ain't ten per cent. greener than I am.” “IT don’t understand you,” Yale replied, seri- ously. ‘* You're sort of an enigma to me, any- how!” “Oh! you bet! I’m a fifteen-puzzle, an’ can’t be worked, onless you steal me a couple o’ times, Now, you're purty five-cent shop razor sharp, but didn’t itever occur to you, that tbere were acreamery at Washington, Pa!” A creamery?” “‘That’s the place! All good people git fired there—everybody i” “ Ah, I see! You mean tre Le Moyne cre- matory!” and a sbudder passed over the de- tective as he mentioned it. “The very place. Ef the body were crema- ted there, and the ashes tuken West, your father would be apt to redeem them, at almost avy rice,” : Yale’s teeth went together. ** What buman wretches, be they ever so vile and depraved, could plan such a heinous crime!” be gasped. “Lots on’em! Oh! I tells yer, ye ain’t onter all the rackets o’ this world yil.” “Then, fer Heaven’s seke, let’s telegraph to Washington, and have the incineration stopped!” We can try. But most likely ther job’s did afore this, an’ the parties skipped for the West,”
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\ | t ‘ i Say teas gees i eee. cai ets ce i + alld Without delay, they sought the main office of the Western Union line, and sent a telegram of inquiry. ‘he answer came promptly back: * Incineration took place last evening. Farties ne, sity “Dr. Le Moynn.”’ Consequently, our detectives but too keenly realized that the end was not yet. CHAPTER VIIL A BOLD GAME BAFFLED, THE morning’s papers contnined the first no- tice of the identification and removal of the body from the Morgue, but as in the majority of such cases, the notice was confined to two or three lines—the impression being given that it was an every-day case of suicide, for causes un- known, and that was the end of it, Kit questioned Yale on the matter, and the brother expressed his desire that public opinion should not be further enlightened—at least un- til the ease had been more fully developed, The next move was to begin a series of com- munications by telegraph with Stephen Rogers, at Boise City, in order to obtain needed infor- mation from him before venturing to leave Philadelphia in following the criminal fugi- tives, The first message sent was as follows: “SrppHENn Rogers, Boise City, Idaho:— “Your daughters have been robbed. What par- ticular enemy have you, who would do you a great and unpardonable injury, barring son and wife? “ Answer quick. “ Smon YAue, Detect 've.” That evening, at six o’clock, they received | ¢ the reply. ‘* 4 former enemy, in a love matter, and again, in a business speculation. If anything more serious than robbery has occurred, inform me at once, “ SrePHEN Rogers,” “He does not say who this enemy is,” Yale said, ‘‘ and, for my part, I have no idea who it can be. I hardly know how to act, now.” “ This is my notion!” Kit said, writing out a message, and submitting it to his partner, Itread: “ SrePHEN Rogers, etc.:—Cassie murdered. Corpse stolen, and now en rou/e West. Pay no ransom to any one. Hold Schofield. We follow! “S, Yaun, Detective.” “*T euass that is about the most sensible thing we can do!” Yale said. ‘By Heaven! We'll hunt the devils down, or die in the attempt. Come, now; we will not let the grass grow un- der our feet, Ill get rid of these diamonds, and we will be heeled,” and he tapped his left breast significantly. They made their way to the extensive pawn- broking establishment, at Ninth and Race streets, where Yale seemed to be pretty well acquainted. ‘““ See here—you’ve seen these before,” he said, to the head clerk, exhibiting a magnificent pair of diamond earrings. 1 tink so, Mr. Yale. You _vant to sell ’em#” “On! no. They belong to my wife, when Tm lucky enough to get one, I’m red-hot after V’ot ish der matter? Kit, the Bootblack Detective, aw a case that will pay a fortune, and must have Me money. Loan meall you can.” “ Dat ish it? Vel, I gifs you eighteen hun-— dred, three months, an’ hope you nof come back so soon, “ Ont Dll be back, if I have to burst a bank, But, give us the money. I’ve no time to loiter.” The money and ticket were soon dealt out, and Yale and Kit took their departure, ‘*?'m in Juck!” the former said, ** for, to tell the truth, I didn’t expect to realizo more than a thousand on’em. Here’s the eight hundred, an’? now we're fixed. Take Lily. with us?” “OF course, but she must not even suspect that I am her brother, I will remain simply Yale, the detective, until I think proper to re- veal myself.” And tus it was arranged: Each one procured a hand-bag, and some changes of needed clothing, and also, cach a serviceable pair of revolvers, and plenty of am- munition, Then they repaired to the Darling cottage where Yale was introduced to Lily and Dorrit. It was evidently a pretty tough struggle to meet bisown sister with the simple courtesy of a mere stranger, but he did it so gracefully that no thought entered her brain that he was in the least related to her, After the introduction, Yale engaged in con- versation with Dorrit while Kit called ~ Lily out of the room, supplied her with money, and directed her toa neighboring store where she might make any needed purchases preparatory for their approaching trip, Thanking bim, she sought the store, while it proceeded to pack up his old street suit and a boot-blacking outfit; seeing which, Yale laughed. “Why, Kit, what in the name of the Apos- tles are you burdling up that mess of stuff for?” - he demanded, “Oh, they’ll come in handy,” Kit replied, chucking in half a dozen boxes of Bixby’s Best. ‘*Mebbe I may have occasion to play bootblick in the game, or ef we should git broke, why, et’s a cold friz-up day-when [ cau’t earn us one squar’ fifteen-cent meal apiece wi’ the box.” And with this sally the young detective absented himself from the room, for it occurred to him that Yale was making himself agreeable to Dorrit—of which Kit was in no wise jealous, since his meeting with Lily Rogers. Time flew fast, and it was nearly dark ere they took their departure for down-town to start for the West, by the night train for Pitts- burg, where they must change cars to visit Washington, Pa. : The trip was devoid of incident, more than that Kit and Lily kept awake pretty much all night and chatted away the time, while Yale slept. They arrived in Pittsburg the next morning, and after a short delav, went on to Washing- ton, Pa., where Lily was left at the hotel, and Kit and Yale set out to work up such informa- tion as might be available, A visit to the crematory developed but little additional evidence to that already collected. All they could learn was that a full-bearded
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OO ne | | man, a sandy-complexioned man, and a young | ' woman, evidently Freneb, had brought the body of a girl, called Alice Clare, there for in- cineration, which took place, when the parties left with the dead girl’s ashes in a silver vase. They took all the clothing with them except a gold breast-pin, inlaid with pearls, which had been accidentally overlooked. This Dr. Le Moyne surrendered on seeing Yale’s badge. When shown the pin, Lily at once identified it as having belonged to her sister, The next thing to be done, was to make in- quiries at the station, as to the route taken by the three, and had no difficulty in finding out. They had bought tickets for Columbus, Ohio, and had asked for tickets through to Cairo, Illinois, “Thet settles it!” Kit cried, jubilantly. “They ar’ as fly sharps as ever was born, with wings, an’ don’t you fergit it. They’re making fer Boise City, sure’s guns shute mud- hens,” “You are right. It must be they’ve got wind - they are followed, or I hardly think they would take so much precaution in their movements. From Cairo, they will take the steamer up the Mississippi, to some point north, where they will again resume the trip by rail. Our pint, is to aim direct through to Davenport, where all the river steamers stop, and go from there to Burlington by water, leaving orders to have all boats spotted at Davenport, so we can nail ’em at Burlington.” “Good! Big bead! Let’s git!” So they took the next train back to Pittsburg. Here Yale secured disguises for the | arty, and then toey took the Pittsburg and Fort Wayne route for Chicago, from whence to go to Daven- port, Iowa. As they had seats in a parlor car, the trip was very pleasant, until it came night, when one by ' one they dropped off into sound repose, fell with an lumbering Kit was the first to awaken, but what caused him todo so was more than he could say. His first thought, naturally, was of Lily and Yale, but they were sleeping soundly in their respective chairs, “Til be blowed ef I know what ever woke me!” Kit muttered. ‘’Twasn’t no small thing, or I’m a fool.” He took a glance at the passengcrs in the car. In the seat across the isle, were two poorly- dressed, countrified-looking old people, both of whom were gray, and carried canes. They ap- peared to be enjoying the favors of King Mor- pheus in the most approved style, for the old man gave vent to snores that seemed to make the lamps rattle, so Kit thought at least. In order to see the rest of the people, he must get to the frout of the car, and view them us he returned to his seat; so he made for the water- cooler, under pretense of getting a drink. Taking a drink, he turned and took a light- ning glance, up and down tbe car, not missing a Seat, Not a person there but what was apparently asleep, : The only individual, upon whom Kit’s gaze rticular scrutiny, was a great ellow who occupied a seat, midwa; up the car, He was a massive individual an ll , tered. Kit, the Bosthlack Detective. 16 lay sprawled backin his chair in an attitude that did not favor comfortable rest. He was attired in a loud checkered suit, which fitted him skin-tight, wore no collar nor shirt- front ornaments, and had bis roughed-up plug hat crammed back on his head. Over his face was spread a bandana handkerchief, concealihg his countenance from view, This man Kit ‘‘ spotted ” at once, ‘All right, me bucko! I’ve got my eye on you!” the youth muttered, as he made his way back to the other end of the car, and flopped himself down in his chair. “Just you try any funny biz an’ see ef L won’tnail ye, It strikes me right under ther first rib, north, thet I’ve got onter yer style, somewheres.” He desisted from awakening Yale and Lily, as he reasoned that there could nct possibly be any danger ‘on the train; so settling himself back in an easy position, Jn his chair, he drew a long breath, closed his eyes, and to all appear- ances, went to sleep again. His face was so turned that be could watch the movements of three persons, without turn- ing his head. They were the two old country people, and the big man behind the bandana, And why the old couple? To the shurp eyesof the ferret they were sus- piciously old, The fact that the end of the old lady’s nose, was powdered white, as was the tip of the chin, and the throat, at once arrested his attention and excited his suspicion, ““That aire don’t jibe well,” he mused, ‘and durp me ef they fook humped-up an’ shaky enuff, fer old people. Mebbe L’m s’posin’ an’ imaginin’ too much, but Vil watch mighty close,” Later, when the conductor went through the cars, yelling out: ; “Wort Wayne! All out, for Fort Wayne,” Kit was just as wide-awake as ever, but neither Yale nor Lily aroused. When the train stopped at the station, Kit left the car for an instant, more to see what the suspected parties would do than anything else. While ont, he saw that there were several sleeping cars and one parlor car ahead, and that the car they were traveling in was the last one on the train—* the tail end o’ the biz,” as he re- marked to himself, When he returned to his seat, he made a dis- covery that struck him rather singularly, whether there was any occasion for it or not. Eyery parlor passenger, with the exception of himself, Yale, Lily, the old couple, and the checkered-suited man, had Jeft the train! There were only six passengers to goon in the car, to Chicago, After the train bad pulled out of Fort Wayne, the conductors soon came in and secured the tickets, ‘after which they and the brakeman, and porter, went back in the forward car, ‘* Tf there’s any music in the air, the band’s goin’ to toot, twixt here and Chicago,” Kit mut- “We're all alone, now, an’ ther’s a ripe chance fer a muss!” _ If the old couple and the big “ snoozer,” were in league, as Kit suspected, then no doubt they would make their presence manifest, in the i ‘
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oo same isolated section between Fort Wayno, and Chicago, How to awaken Yale without attracting at- tention was a puzzle to Kit, but he finally hit upon a plan, Going into the closet, he was able to write on a piece of paper, with pencil, the words: “Danger. Keep awake, and ready!” Returning to his seat, he peered out of the window awhile, as if trying to see the lay of the country. Finally he reached over, seized Yale’s hand, and shook it, at the same time cramming the note into it, dextrously, and closing the fingers over it. *« Hurra, boss, wake-up!” Kit cried. we're purty near ter Chickago!” Yale sat up, rubbed his eyes, sleepily, with the hand that did not contain the note, ‘*T guess “@it out! We ain’t nowhar’s near Chicago,” he growled. ‘Blame it, can’t you let a feller sleep?” After awhile he rose and lurched toward the water-cooler, got a drink, and in doing so read Kit’s note, without any other being the wiser for it, When he returned to his seat, he growled: “THs allright. We ain’t near Chicago, Got plenty o’ time ter snooze yet. Wake me ag’in fore it’s time, an I'll break your jaw!” and he settled himself back, apparently for a renewal of his nap. Kit also settled himself back and closed his eyes, but had his weapon ready for instant use ip case of emergency. The train tore swiftly along through the star- less night—a night as dark as Kit had ever seen, he thought—and still ‘the band did not begin to toot. Perhaps, after all, it was a false alarm, The three people might easily be the most innocent in the world of any wrong intention, Kit was about half-ready to believe this when he saw an uneasy movement on the part of the man with the checkered suit, who began cough- ing in a consumptive manner, and finally, appa- |. _ rently unable to compose himself, arose and staggered toward the front of the car, the state- rooms soon hiding him from view. “Now, then, the hand will soon toot!” Kit muttered, nerving himself. ‘‘I’m onter thet bloke’s racket, tho’ I couldn’t git a peep at his phiz, We're roundin’ a curve, now, an’ he’s goiv’ to cut off this car!” Be saw by an uneasy movement of Yalo that he was awake and doubtless thoroughly alive to the situation. Kit’s prophecy soon assumed definite shape. There was an agitation of the bell-cord, and then it slackened as it loosened; a moment more and the speed of the car began to lessen, The King of Kids was on his feet, his two revolvers leveled upon the old couple from the country. “Quick, Yale!” he cried. ‘Git to the front, and capture the big fellow!” The elder detective glided to the front of the car, and as the big sport re-entered, dealt him a blow with a revolver that knocked him sense- ess, 1p the mean time, the ‘ old’ couple had sprung t Kit, the Bootblack Detective. e —— ———————— -t. COO OreeeeeE——— TT A OS LIT va re to their feet, with snarls of surprise and stood glaring at their youthful captor, in speechless rage, “Oh! you daisies, but we’ve got ye, tho’,” Kit cried, coolly. ‘‘ Move a peg an’ )’ll make more air-holes thru’ ye than there is in a sieve, Hi! there, Yale! Secure tbe big bloke, so he can’t git away, an’ then come an’ help this aged pair, I’ve got ’em where they durst not haul in their cold deck!” Yale had not come unprepared, for he hand- cuffed the sport, and bound his feet in a mo- ment, and then came back to help Kit. ‘* This is an outrage!” the old man blustered, “Tl not stand it!” ‘Oh, yes, yer will!” Kit declared, ‘‘ Ef ye don’t, ye’ll go on ter Chercawgo as dead freight, Jest put out yer paws, an’ let ther capting fit on the metallic cuffs which are warranted ter cure inflammatory conditions, See, ther car is stop- pin’, but kidnappin’ ain’t no good sech nights as these.” In less time than it takes to tell it, they too bad been made prisoners, and moved up to the forward end of the car, so that the trio could be better guarded together. Then it was that Kit made a startling dis- covery. The big fellow in the striped suit was none other than Mike McGill, the fellow with whom he had the trouble on the Ridge avenue car! “Hello! Dve seen that chap before,” he said to Yale, and followed by explaining the street- car difficulty. ‘‘ It’s all clear as Christmas now. These ’ere gay people were left behind ter kill or capture the gal!” “Evidently you are right. It’s lucky we captured even them, I wonder how far the train will go without discovering we are left behind?” “Not fur, you bet! The train were goin’ up- grade a leetle, I reckon; anyhow, she war goin’ fast enough, so that when this car dropped off, the engine must’a’ felt it. You watch! I'll go flag ’em!” Getting a lantern from the rear end of the car, Kit went to the front platform, and signaled for the return of the train. He had not long to wait, He soon saw a signal light coming slowly around the curve, and answered with his own lantern vigorously, and a couple of shrieks of the locomotive whistle told him that the train was backing, The train soon reached the detached car, when the conductor yelled out: “ What the devil’s the matter, here? Who uncoupled this car, and cut the bell-rope?” “ Oh! a tray ov bright buggers, inside, who were plavin’ a bigger game than they c’u’d handle!” Kit replied. ‘‘ There happened to bea pair o’ us, tho’, who were on to their little racket an’ we tuk’em in out of the fog. Got’em all ready fer the hearin’!” Considerable excitement ensued, when the true state of affairs became known, and Kit and Yale received great praise for their bravery. By a private cousultation with the conductor, to whom was made known some of the facts o! the case, it was decided to hold the trio in rs ae
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repo ee Chicago simply on the charge of attempted train-robbery. A pase. “ You see,” Yale explained to Kit, ‘it will be difficult to establish the fact before a police court, that they had designs of kidnapping Lily without we give the whole case to the pub- lic, and thereby incur considerable delay. The simple charge of attempted train-robbery will bind them over to court, and give us a chance to go on with our case, and to work out further developments. It is my opinion that these peo- ple are meroly stay-behinds, left to secure Lily, or, failing in that, to join the main party at some given point. It is now evident that, un- known to us, we bave been shadowed, and in- stead of being the trailers, we have been the trailed, It was evidently the duty of these scoundrels to watch, which they did with a cun- ning peculiar to the sharpest of their craft, But for you Kit, we two would bave bad an awak- ening in some other climate, and Miss Lily, here, would have been in the power of the originators of this infernal plot, Again, I have to extend to you my heartiest gratitude.” “Oh! now, say—give’s a rest. I’d ruther wrassle a fifteen-cent beefsteak, any time, than swaller flattery, But, you don’t think this is the party w’ot’s got the ashes?” ‘© No!” And Yale’s eyes sparkled venomous- ly. ‘If Idid Vd kill them all the next minute, if I had to hang for it. No! The other parties are on the other route, and, although they have a good start of us, we will intercept them yet, if pluck and Philadelphia street-Arab craft can do it,” So it was agreed to settle the trio in Chicago, on the charge before mentioned, and then go on to Davenport. The conductor was a sensible sort of fellow, in good standing on the road, and promised to use what influence he could to have the trio bound over to court, without bail, so as to enable Yale and Kit to pursue their case to its end. The ‘told” couple preserved a strict silence, and seemed nerved for some desperate. action, should a chance be afforded them, Mike McGill recovered, after awhile, and ex- pressed himself in language more forcible than polite, when he found that he was “ locked.” After he Lad been left to ‘‘ blow off a good head of steam,” he cooled down for awhile, and then beckoned to the conductor, *‘ Where’s the boy?” he demanded, ‘Sind me the boy—I want to see him.” Hearing the request, Kit glided forward, and ite Irishman took a good look at him from top iD toe. “ Well, by me sow], it’s a cute kid ye are, now ain’t ye?” he finally demanded, an expression of - grim humor upon his rather unprepossessing vis- age. e Waal, I should elucidate!” Kit replied, put- ting his thumbs to his arm-pits, ‘‘Therain’t a town meetin’ bull that’s livelier on the ‘mash,’ bet 7er checkered suit on that, Mike. Ye’r’ done- eo done fernow. Who put up the togs fer ye “Never ye moind now, boy. Ax me no quis- tions. Where ye goin’ to take us?” **Oh! first, to Chicago. You'll hey a nice trip; ye kin take in all the jokes—a cell, now an’ then Kit, the Bootblack Detective. 1% —an’ they have a daisy steady lodgin’-house, out around the margin o’ the city, somewheres, so, dov’t be the least bit worried, Mike. You'll be han’somely pervided fer, an’ tho’ they can’t give ye Philadelphia Ninthb-and-Sansom-street suits, out here, they kin give ye stripes in place o’ the checkers, an’ that’s the prevailin’ fashicn.” McGill groaned aloud. “Say, ‘pon me honor, ’twa'n’t me fault I got into this divil’s own schrape!” he whined. ‘ Be dacent and aisy wid me, an’ I'll bea friend to yez, all me life!” ‘All right, Mike, Out here in Chicago, they dish friendship out on a big brass key, for free lunch, So along, now! Take care of yourself! Hope yer eye don’t pain you, for ye ain’t much ead at eye-sbuttin’, anyhow!” and with a tanta- lizing laugh Kit retired to where Yale was seat~ ed “There’s a case of turn-coat evidence, eh?” the latter said. “Not much!” Kit declared, emphatically. ‘‘ He might want to play that mazurky, but ye won’t ketch me dancin’ to et, nary atime. That feller has got more snake in his eyes than ever St. Pat- rick kicked out of Ireland!” And through the dark, gloomy night, with now and then adrop of rain splasbing against the window, the train rolled on toward the City of the Lakes. CHAPTER IX. STILL EN ROUTE. — WueEn Chicago was reached, Yale handed over the prisoners to the proper authorities, while Kit escorted Lily to a hotel, and se- cured accommodations for the three, Lily was considerably elatcd, as well as ex- cited, over the capture of the people, who, without a doubt, meant her harm, and she thanked Kit warmly for his bravery. By tender glances and sweet smiles, she betray- ed the fact that he was to her a hero, and the idol of her impulsive girlish heart. As for Kit, he had to resort to his old-time fashion of scratching his head, when in per- plexity. “Golly!” he thought, ‘it’s nice to have a young gal sweet on you, but, hang it, what is a feller goin’ to do? It takes money to run a kitchen an’ siftin’-room, however humble; an’ then—hang it! I wonder if I hain’t old- er than I calkylate, an’ ef sum rich miserly uncle won't die, an’ leave me his boots—full of money?” Her wiles and witchery finally proved too much for Kit, and he turned upon ber, with a grimace: **Now, see here, Lily; s’posin’ we eat some eyesters jest fer achange. I’ve heard Jersey- men say thet eyesters were the best thing fer palpitation of the heart, an’ ef mine ain’t thumpin’ like a base drum on a St. Patrick’s day’s parade, I’ll eat beeswax all my life!” “Oh! my! Iam so sorry. Have you heart disease, Kit?” Lily asked, with well simulat-
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ea ee eorwe se ed anxiety, although there was a roguish twinkle in her eyes. “No, by jingo, no! It’s the eyester dis- ease. I'll ring the bell for five dozen extras, fri-d. I wish Yale would return. Dash me ef he ain’t the pokiest feller I ever see’d. I— I— He was getting a good red color, and Lily burst into a merry laugh, as she threw her arms about his neck. ““Why, Kit, you are the most bashful goose Lever saw. But, there, now,” with a charming little hug. ‘‘ lm ready for the oysters, only for mercy’s sake, don’t order five dozen!” Kit felt relieved, when she released him. “Why, can’t you eat six?” queried he. “ Oh, yes, but--” “Oh! [ll attend to the other four dozen and six. I’m the champion eyester eater of Manayunk.” So Kit ordered ‘two fries” and about the time they were served, Yale sauntered into the parlor, and another order was given. “The hearing will take place at two, this afternoon,” the detective announced, and everything is arranged, so that wecan take a four o’clock train, West.” ‘* How erbout ther old couple?” “Oh! they have been stripped of their dis- guises, and turn out to be a pair of old of- fenders on the criminal list, known both here and in Philadelphia.” The case was called on at the appointed hour, and Kit and Yale were present to testify. The facts of the case were quickly taken, and McGill and the other pair, known as Frank and Jane Shie, were bound over to court, and locked up in default of bail. As their business had now terminated, so far as Chicago was concerned, the trio took cars for Davenport, where they arrived that evening, but too late for the transaction of any business. The next morning, as they were likely to remain the day out in Davenport, the follow- ing was wired to Stephen Rogers: “Wo ore here, lying in wait. Have you nailed Schofield? “Smton Yair, De’.” Considering the advance the fugitives had in the start, there was a bare possibility that they might already have passed Daven- ort. A schedule of time for suiling, and steam- ers, was procured, and the party timed from Pittsburg to Columbus, Columbus to Cairo, and Cairo, by steamer, to Davenport. | “No! if we are guessing their route, cor- | tectly, they have not yet passed this place,” Kit, the Bosotblack Detective. Yale finally decided, ‘‘allowing them the fastest time they could make. Nor, do I look for them to do so, for several days, — yet.” “ « And, to sum up yer genuine opinion, you don’t think they take the river route, after all?” Kit queried. “To tell the truth, I don’t know. I’m a good deal puzzled as to what course they will take, or what course we had better pur- sue.” The reply to the telegram they had sent to Stephen Rogers, at Boise City decided them. It was simply: “No. Schofield can’t be found. Is known to be in the vicinity, 8. R. “That settles it. Schofield is awaiting the arrival of the main party at some given point,” Yale decided. ‘‘ We can’t do better than to aim direct for Boise City by the quickest route.” “Very well.” Fatigued and travel-worn, they at last ar- rived in Boise City, where Kit the Bootblack Detective had telegraphed Stephen Rogers to meet them. CHAPTER X. IN BOISE CITY. Tue mining speculator, as he proved to be, met them at the train. He was a white- haired, weather-beaten, and yet noble and commanding appearing old gentleman, and the news of Cassie's fate having got abroad, there were a large number of sympathizing friends preseut to greet the return of the old man’s remaining child, The scene of the meeting of father and daughter was pathetic, in the extreme, and there was scarcely a dry eye in the crowd. As soon as possible, and after brief intro- ductions, the quartette took a carriage, and were hurried away to the nearest hotel, out of reach of the curious eyes of the crowd. f Here, Lily explained everything to her father, of course eulogizing the heroic action that Kit and Yale had taken in her behalf, and the old man thanked them with all im- aginable fervor, and promised that their kindness should not escape a suitable re ward. Kit and Yale withdrew then, and left the father and daughter to themselves. The elder detective was very pale, it evi- dently having been a severe struggle to meet his parent face to face, and not acknowledge his own identity. ‘‘Hang it, ef ye hain’t got the nerve ov a wooden Pawnee!” Kit declared, admiringly,
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. i9 when they were alone. ‘Don’t you do it!” Yale replied, quietly. ‘‘When I feel disposed, I will make myself known, if, indeed, the old gent don’t tumble | sooner. When some of the excitement wears away, he will doubtless recall the fact that mother’s name was Yale.” They made no attempt to see the father and daughter again that night, but retired early, and got a much-needed rest. In the morning, Mr. Rogers sent for them. He was now thoroughly composed, and looked prepared for the work that yet lay before him. “Gentlemen,” he said, ‘‘I have learned more fully from my daughter the details of your noble work in her behalf, and no words can express my appreciation of the service. You have dove what I nope will make you famous and honored in your chosen profes- sion, the country over, and, as I said before, my bank account is at your command.” “T will leave my young friend here to ar- range all such matters, when we have com- pleied the job we undertook,” replied Yale. “Mr. Cool, a newsboy of Philadelphia, with the energy and shrewdness of a dozen men, was the originator of all that has yet been found out and done. “To him belongs the credit, and whatever compensation you may see fit to bestow. I was interested in the case through his shrewd- ness and indomitable pluck, and volunteered to give him the benefit of any assistance my professional badge might afford.” Oh dry up!” broke in Kit. ‘‘ Thet is too thin. You—” ‘‘That’s all right; you are entitled to all the credit,” Yale persisted, with a look that checked Kit from saying anything about the diamond transaction, which he was on the point of introducing. “T understand that but for our young friend I should not even now know of my daughter’s tragic fate, and also that but for his timely intervention, Lily would likely have shared a like fate,” Mr. Rogers said, gratefully; ‘‘and henceforth I will afford him, as part compensation, every facility for rising to the position of one of the foremost men of the day.” “Oh, that’s all right—let that take keer of itself for the present,” Kit said. ‘‘There’s more of ’portance scrapin’ my mind than that. I’m anxious now to git after them snoozers w’ot think they’re so sharp.” ** Yes; we must work up the case as fast as possible,” Yale said; ‘‘and any data you can furnish, that will be of use to us, will “Why, I came near | heavin’ the cat out o’ the sack myself.” ““ Vengeance I do crave,” Stephen Rogers cried, ‘‘and vengeance I will have! I tele- graphed you that there was but one man whom I believe could be guilty of domg me an unpardonabie injury. I will now en- | deavor to make clear to you all about the matter, ‘‘ Ido not reside here, in Boise City, but ten miles to the north, at a little settlement we call Bed Rock, where I have some min- ing interests—in fact, one of the best gold and silver lodes in the locality. “Three years ago, when the mine was dis- covered, I took in with mea half-partner a man named Samuel Slaughter, and whom, from what you have said, I believe to be the so-called Samuel Sands who met my children in Philadeiphia. He was rather a propossess- ing individuai, with the bearing and general appearance of a gentleman, and as he came from Helena well recommended, and claimed to be an expert accountant, I concluded I could not do better than avail myself of his services, as | was in need of just such a man. | Soi gave him a half-interest in the revenue of the mine, for so long a time as he should prove trustworthy and attentive to our busi- ness interests, ‘Time passed along, and things ran smoothly. He gained my confidence, and little by little drew from me the history of my past life in detail, and pretty nearly all about my affairs in general. However, as my daughters were away at school, it chanced that they never saw him, which accounts for their not recognizing him, if that was he, in Philadelphia. “When the mine was opened and began to pay pretty well, | suddenly awoke to the dis- covery that [ was being robbed, and was not long in traciug the crime directly to Slaugh- ter, and forcing him. at the point of a pistol, into a confession. J then gave him an hour to get out of the reach of the law, and he was not slow tc accept the terms—although he took an oath that he wculd be revenged upon me. “T heard nothing more about him until about a year ago, when a miner died, and left me guardian over his daughter and es- tate. “A few months after his death, I learned that this daughter, a young, giddy-headed girl, had a lover, who was io fhe babit of meeting her clandestincly. From what I could learn, the man was Samuel Slaughter. “‘Tat once visited the girl, and gave her fatherly counsel and advice, but she was naturally headstrong, and without directly opposing my will, she seemed to make light of my advice. So with my mind fully made up. I set spies to work, and was not long in hasten the consummation of the vengeance I | developing the fact that they were to elope. know you must crave,” ips ‘1 made the fact known to the miners, Sc peciact. ee
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turtle-doves, and gave Slaughter the worst dose of tar and feathers there was in the camp, and we had a half-barrel of tar and a couple of feather-beds at that. “We then tied him to a buckin’ burro, with a cactus burr under its tail, and sent him a-flying. The girl I sent away to her relations, I did not hear of Slaughter again, until three months afterward, when he sent me a letter, with a skull and cross-bones on it, the simple wording of which was: “*T am not dead yet. “*S. SLAUGHTER.” “‘T paid no particular attention to it, how- ever, until I received your Philadelphia tele- grams, when the terrible truth dawned upon me, that it was he who had struck for ven- geance! May the eternal curses of an in- jured parent consume him!” “He is undoubtedly the man,” Yale de- cided, ‘‘and now that we know the par- ticulars, Ido not think it will be very hard for us to run him down, as soon as the party arrives in this vicinity.” ‘‘T am not so sure of that. The fate of my poor child is known here in Boise City, and the fact of your arrival is also known. It don’t take long for news to spread out here, you can bet. This man Schofield hung about town a few days after bringing the news which took my daughters East, under pretense of looking for an opportuaity for investment; then he disappeared. I have, since receiving ‘your te:egrams, learned that he has been seen lurking in the vicinity. So, you see, he inay be in town now, in disguise, and, hearing of your arrival, will warn the other parties to lie low, for awhile!” This was reasonable. ‘“‘That’s so,” Yale admitted, ‘‘ and we're not in Philadelphia, where we know the ropes, either.” Kit was silent a few minutes, his fingers creating a disturbance in his hair. ‘‘PD'ye intend ter stay hyer in Boise City?” he finally asked, of the speculator, ‘Not unless it is necessary. I have busi- ness duties both here and at Bed Rock, but I generaily run up here once a day. My real home is there.” ‘* Weil, now I’ve got kinder of an idea, ef ye wanter hear 1t.” ‘“‘ Judging by what you have already done, we can all take advice from you,” Mr. Rog- ers said, with a smile. “Well, here goes! We'll all pack off fer yer home at once, an’ we won’t be no ways shy about lettin’ folks know we’re goin’. See?” “Well?” “When we get to Bed Rock, I'll fix up, Kit, the Bootblack Detective. and getting all arranged we intercepted the aid come back. But, wait. I ‘ll be back in a moment,” He skurried away, and soon returned with his old bootblack suit, and blacking para- phernalia. ‘** Now, Mister Yale, ef ye belonged heer in Boise, an’ you war to meet me as | look in this rig-out, dirt an’ etsettery included, d’ye think ye'd reckernize me as the same feller I am now?” “‘T hardly think I should,” Yale replied, candidly. “Then, thet settles et!” Kit said. ‘‘I come back heer, an’ go ter shinin’ boots, while you take things cool and easy. Ef I can’t pick up some points no one can.” Mr. Rogers looked inquiringly at Kit, then at Yale. , “Let him try it,” the latter advised; ‘‘T’ll guarantee he'll take care of himself, where we couldn’t.” “You bet on me bein’ all hunk!” Kit cried. “Wait till Is’prise some o’ these Western fellers wi’ my patent-leather, duplex-action shine.” “Very well, my boy; you shall have your way,” Mr. Rogers assented. ‘‘ I will go out and order a conveyance to take us to Bed Rock.” ‘‘ Aad by the way, I think I’ll accompany you,” Yale remarked, with a peculiar twinkle in his eye, for he had already noticed that his sister was very partial to Kit. “Oh! you snoozer!” thought Kit, who «tumbled ” to his partner’s game, *‘1’m on- to you with both feet. You want me to set up the oysters again. Well, I might as well prepare for another siege ef heart disease, Gosh! 1 begin to feel giddy, already.” And well he might, for Mr. Rogers and Yale were little more than out of the parlor, ere Lily was beside Kit, and her pretty eyes looking appealingly down into his. CHAPTER XI. CAUGHT FOUL. “Kyrt. I’m so afraid you will get harmed,” Lily said, passing her fair hand over his fore- head and pushing back the mass of matted curls, that would grow down there. ‘ You mizht be all right in Philadelphia, where they have policemen to protect you boys, but out here, it is different The menare so wild an’ reugh!” Kit laughed at the idea. *Perlicemen pertect us kids!” he ejacu- lated ‘* Well! I should go giggle! Why, you've got the harouche before the geldings, Tal. It’s us kids w’ot pertects ther perlice- men, out in Phila! Hf a couple sluggers gits ter maulin’ each other, we allers gives the copper a friendly tip ter amble ’round ter ther furtherest part o’ his beat, ’ca’se how, ef
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a a pe net ws ee _ my time comes. ' “ Out here they calla stage a ‘ hearse. Kit, the Bootblack Detective. P ; Files | he was ter interfere, he’d get sat down on, in about two holy seckints. Oh! no; don’t you git skeered about me gittin’ hurt. I tell yer, when I get ter shinin’ ’em up, fer the fellers, Tl elervate society ’round here, an’ every feller will think he’s a billionaire.” “But, Kit, I am so afraid. You know if any harm were to come to you, how badly I would feel. I love you, Kit, from the bot- tom of my heart—” ‘‘There! by the mud-hens o’ Jersey, I know’d it. You've gone and did it, just w’ot I expected!” “- Done what, Kit?” “Exploded — popped! Oh! Jerusalem! S’posin’ Dorrit was heer, tho’—wouldn’t thar be hair-pullin’? Well! well!” “No, I don’t think there would be, Kit. I guess Dorrit transferred her affections from you to Mr. Yale before we left the East.” “Dye really think so?’ “Yes, Anyhow, it looked to me as if they were Prey well pleased with each other. So now, Kit, there isn’t any excuse in the world why—why—” but she could not finish the sentence, Kit rubbed the end of his nose and grinned comically. «‘Say, see here, you’re after another mess of eyesters, ain’t ye?” he queried. “No, I’m not. How provoking you are!” “T’ll be gosh-hanged if lam! But, say, is this the way the gals do up here—‘pop,’ on their own hook?” ‘‘Well—yes. This is leap year, you know. But come, now, Kit, don’t you like me?” “Like you?” Kit echoed, gathering her in his embrace. ‘‘ Wal, I should smile! I'd like nothin’ better than ter eat the grass your angelical feet trampled on. But—hist! here comes Yale and the guynor.” Which put an end to that little love-mak- ing episode. Yale and Mr. Rogers entered the parlor, to find both Kit and Lily with very rosy cheeks, at which the detective secretly smiled. “Well, children, we have drummed up a ‘hearse’ to convey us to Bed Rock,” Mr. Rogers announced, ‘‘and it is in waiting. So get ready, and we'll be off.” “A hearse?” Kit echoed. ‘‘Say, now, look here, Mr. Rogers, what you giving us? You don’t ketch me ridin’ in no hearse afore I'd rather fut it.” ‘ ‘«Oh! that’s all right, Kit,” Yale explained. a ” “sOb!, I. see: pers call a theater a Morgue, rehearse!” Kit punned. “Here! here! No more such jokes as that!” Yale protested, ‘They hang a man out here for joking.” . That must be why the pa- Waal, I should “No. skip.” They were soon aboard the coach, and roll- ing away, a crowd having collected in front | of the hotel to see them off. | Four spirited horses hauled the stage, and the trip to Bed Rock was made in good time. Here, too, Mr. Rogers and Lily were warmly and sympathizingly greeted by the few miners and their families who made the town their abode, lt was but a small gathering of shanties and buildings, belonging to the mine-pro- prietor—that of Mr. Rogers being the most | conspicucus dwelling of the lot. | Here the parties remained quartered for the day, as Kit had decided not to return to Boise City until under the cover of dark- ness. He made his preparations, however, with | the coolness and sangfroid characteristic of the matter-of-fact street Arab. Yale and Mr. Rogers quizzed him repeated- ly, to find out if he had any fear as regards what peril he might encounter, but be only laughed at them good-naturedly; and replied in the negative, “Oh! let him go,” Yale said; ‘‘and if he don’t pick up the trail (’ll lose my reckon- ing. To-morrow, in disguise, I too will go to the city, so as to be near at hand should he get into any trouble.” As soon as it became dark, Kit bade Yale and Mr. Rogers good-by, and arrayed in his old-time regalia, with blacking outfit slung tu his back, he took his departure, Lily in- sisting on accompanying him a short dis- tance. At their parting, she clung to him, affec- tionately, until, with a kiss, he bade her good-by, and trudged away on his journey. Tll be hanged if they do. But let’s ** Hyer I am, now, ’Frisco Frank! A fu’st-class feller, an’ nary a crank, Kin lick a lion or big bull-pup, An’ fer ha’f a dime, I'll shine ’em up.” “Reckerlect, feller-citizens, I’m the gold- | medal shiner from ther city o’ San Francisco. I’m sixteen years old, hey made sixteen voy- ages around the earth, jumped over the Rockies, an’ Janded down hyer in Boise City, ter show ye thet ye’r’ sixteen centuries behind ther times, fer not hevin’ yer boots shined bright enuff ter reflect all ther beau-_ ties o’ Jupiter, Saturn and Venus. I hev shined ther diamonded-studded brogans uv every king, emperor an’ prince in ther world, polished ther bare-feet o’ ther man-eatin’ king o’ ther ham-Sandwich Islands, an’ heer Lam, gents, fresh over frum ’Frisco, ter put a complexion onter yer dirty number 14’s! So walk right up an’ git dumfounded fer
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. only a nickel—five cents only—ther twen- tieth part o’ a dollar. Who’s ther first mag- nate who wants ter represent this mighty nation?” It was Kit who uttered this harangue, as | he took his stand on the sidewalk in front of one of the foremost hotels of the Queen City of Idaho. Ragged, mud-splashed, bare-footed and bare-headed, and with a face so black- streaked and dirty as to effectually destroy his ideatity, the King of Kids thus ad- dressed the considerable crowd of men lounging about the verauda—men of many costumes and many characters, from the border bully to the refined gentleman of leisure. “Come, now, roll up, tumble up, any way ter git up. Vl shine ’em fer ye till they'll dazzle yer eyes so you'll hey ter war green goggles ter keep from gittin’ sea-sick. Why, durn my skin, ther ain’t a pair o’ boots in the crowd fit to. wear ter see a widder arter her vld man’s funeral. Who's ther fu’st chap who'll be an honor ter the name o’ Idaho, by devin’ his boots shined?” A big, burly individual, chock-full of ‘‘benzine,” came staggering out of the hotel and descended the steps to where Kit had taken his stand. , “illo!” he cried, hoarsely. ther monkey! Whar’s ther organ-grinder ‘Huntin’ fer a baboon. Want er job?” retorted Kit. “Say, luck a-heer, yonker, w’ot d’yer say? Cuss my butes, but ve a mind ter smack ye. I want ye ter know I’m a terror, 1 am-—Howlin’ Jake, the slugger, w’ot kin lick Sullivan or any other man!” In an instant Kit was upon his feet, dan- cing about, with his arms thrown out in true pugilistic style *Tl] jest bet ye don’t, ewlly, when I am about,” he declared, with a grin and wink. ‘‘ Ye never hearn tell o’ Paddy Ryan’s brother, did ye? Say—tell ye what Tl do, boss: I'll bet ye two ter one I kin knock ye out in one round!” _ The crowd laughed at the boast, and that was precisely what Kit wanted. The sooner he worked himself into popularity as a boot- black, or roustabout, the less liability there was of his identity being discovered. The bully seemed to regard Kit’s antics with a sort of grim humor. ~ ‘Waal, I'll be cussed!’ he snorted. ‘‘ Ye put me in mind o’ a little banty, spurrin’ up to a big game-cock.” “An’. sumtimes the big game-cock gits combed,” Kit replied, still dancing about. ‘Oh! jest come an’ see me, Moriarity, an’ let me soak ye one in the second flat!” The crowd on the veranda roared again, ‘Look at 9” and bystanders began to collect to see the — sport, - The ‘‘terror” was evidently not a gross- dispositioned fellow, for he took things good-naturedly, considering the amount of “booze” he bad on board. ‘See heer,” he said, steadying himself upon his feet. ‘‘Im an old heart-breakin’ hard-head from Horror Gulch, an’ I kin’ clean out ther town ef I’m er mind to, Now, yer’ a spunky rabbit, an’ I’ll tell ye what 11 do. WV put. my left band behin’ me back, an’ spar ye wi’ me right, pervidin’ you'll agree not to squeal, if you git a crusher in ther nose. Ef you git ina tap on my mug, ‘nuff sed. Ill give ye a dollar apiece ter shine up ther hull crowd.” “A bargain!” Kit qnickly accepted. “Square off, and look out fer yerself!’ The crowd now beeame wildly enthusi- astic, as Western crowds always do when there isany fun brewing. Howlin’ Jake put his Jeft hand behind his back, and with his right fist on guard, struck a pugilistic attitude. For a few minutes there was some fair sparring, and Jake struck out three terrific blows, any one of which, had it hit the Arab, would have settled the contest. But Kit wasn’t getting hit. He was as light on his feet as a chipmunk, and his dancing and ducking movements, evidently annoyed his adversary, who appeared to have a fair knowledge of the manly art, Bets were freely made among the specta- tors, as to how the contest would end, They were destined to be quickly decided, for jumping here, then there, with agility, and watching his man like a hawk, Kit finally struck out: Thwack! The sound of the blow was audible for yards around, and Kit landed lightly back upon his feet, Fairly had he planted his fist over Howlin’ Jake’s left eye, and with no boyish force either. The bully at the instant had his back to- ward the street, in which, just off the side- walk, was a large puddle of muddy water. So quick and hard was Kit’s right-hander, that it knocked Howlin’ Jake clean off his pins, and landed him upon ‘his back in the water. Without awaiting further developments, Kit seized his box and began to yell: “Here ye go, now—who wants er shine. Only a nickel—half a dime—reg’lar down- Hast prices, same as they hev in New Yorick. Whar’s the man willin’ to squander ther twentieth part of a dollar?” “Heigh! hello!” roared Jake, gaining a sitting posture, ‘‘Every durned galoot gits
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. 23 his boots blacked at my expense, I tell yer. Tain’t no hog, ef I do waller!” He got up, shook himself, and reaching into his pocket, drew out five twenty-dollar gold-pieces, threw them down upon the side- walk, in front of Kit; then turning upon his heel, entered the hotel, crying as he went: «That's ther style of cattle they raise over in Horror Gulch, Mine’s bug-juice. Hev sumthin’, gentlemen!” This was the first specimen Kit had ever seen of a veritable far Western tough, and to him it was a sight gocd for sore eyes. But the way the men of Boise City did file "4 into the hotel bar-room, in response to Howl- ‘* in’ Jake’s invitaticn, was an astonisher to the Kid, for but one man was left on the veran- da, or in the vicinity. ‘These chaps don’t know whata skine is, I don’t believe,” he muttered, as he picked up the gold-pieces. ‘‘ Et don’t matter, tho’. Thiok 1’ll start out as a prize-fighter, ef I can pull in a hundred dollars every whack.” The man who aid not join in accepting Howlin’ Jake’s offer sat tipped back in a chair on the veranda, with his heels elevated against one of the posts that supported the wooden awning. He was fairly well attired, was of good figure, and an observer, at a glance, would have put him down as a man engaged in some legitimate business, He wore an immense sweeping beard, which eviuently received excellent attention, for there was not a tangle in it. His eyes, like his hair, were of a brown color, but his skin was unnaturally white. Kit had paid no attention to the individual, until he was accosted, as he finished picking up the coins. “Well, sonny, you made quite a haul, didn’t you!” taking the cigar out of his mouth. “Kinder,” Kit returne¢, with a grin, and a criticising look at theinquisitor, Thet fel- ler‘must have more tin than he knows what 3 to do with!” = “We has. He is a cattle-rancher, off on aspree. Chances are large, he'll go home broke. By the way, since you haven’t struck a job, yet, I'll give you one!” And lowering his feet to the veranda, he waited for Kit to go to work. “‘You don't call them aire feet, do ye?” Kit demanded, for their size was extraordi- narily large. ‘‘ Why, them’s mud scows, like they use in the marshes.” “Tt don’t matter as to their size, sir. Go ahead, and shine them!” and the man’s tone was not particularly gentle. “Say, lookee here!” Kit retorted, ‘“d’ye expect me ter expend a day’s work, all fer a , nickel? Ohno! Give me adollar an’ a fotergraff o’ the feet ter sell ter a museum, an’ it’s a go.” “‘Here’s a dollar. You'll have to hunt up a photograph machine, yourself!” Without further ceremony, Kit set _to work, and soon had a patent-leather shine on the boots that reminded him of old Phila- delphia times. “Yer wears purty decent leather,” Kit re- marked, pocketing his dollar, and surveying his job, with pride. ‘If you'll jest keep them feet o’ yourn posted up thar, fer adver- tisement, I'll ketch lots 0’ jobs.” “Not many, out here, Pll swear. If you expect to get rich you'll have to go into some more profitable business.” “What bizness?” Kit asked, thinking he had a “ bite,” from the first. ““Oh! most anything else, than blacking boots. No one ever has their boots blacked eut here. Running errands, for instance, now—guod pay in it—little odd jobs, where a boy ain’t particular what he does.” “Thet hits me right in my dormitory,” Kit declared, enthusiastically. ‘‘ lm handy at anything, an’ don’t care a continental what it is as long as ther wealth flows inter my treasury.” *‘That’s a good motto, boy. Well, trot around, after awhile, and maybe I'll have a job for you,” and with this, the man arose and entered the hotel. “Bet a cent to a b'iled owl thet I’ve hit the bull’s-eye, ther first clip!” Kit muttered. “Tvs worth lookin’ up, anyhow. Guess 1’d better not be too loose around heer, at pres- ent, fer fear Howlin’ Jake’s eye will swell on him, an’ he'll git mad.” So he trudged away creating a sensation wherever he went, being quite a novelty. But he found one ihing out. 5 The old Philadelphia five-cent racket “* didn’t work worth a cent,” so to speak. Every customer he got didn’t think anything of paying fifty cents to a dollar for a shine, and as he had a goodly number of customers, ee stock of wealth increased very percep- tibly. “This Boise City ain’t so slow a town, after all!” he muttered, ‘‘ an’ I'll be jiggered ef I don’t think et would be a purty good place ter tie to. Guess I'll mazurky back, an’ see ef my first customer is about.” When he arrived at the hotel, the in- dividual was once more seated on the ve- randa. He immediately arose, however, descended to the street, and said: : “Come along with me, boy, if you want to earn some money. I'll put you on the way of doing it.” *Kerect, guy’nor, I'm yer mud-pie, eee
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STE Neen ree ies Seema ven, ; 2 ¥ fi i Peon nipen Kit, the Bootblack Detective. every minute in an hour, Steer ahead, an’ I'm with ye, cl’ar up to the chin.” Without reply, the man led on. Standing erect, he was about six feet in hight, and of powerful build. From the description Kit had received of the man Schofield, he at once formed the opinion that this was the same party, in dis- | guise. “T wonder what job he hes got fer me ter do?” Kit muttered, as he hurried alorg, for he was forced to do so, to keep up with the stranger. ‘I don’t know but I'd better in- vestigate ‘fore I go too fur.” “Though he hada pair of revolvers upon his person, he was none too anxious to get into any new trouble. “Say, Cap, what sort o’ job is this ye want me ter tackle?” he finally demanded. “Seems ter me ye'r’ goin’ a long ways ter find it.” ‘Only to my residence,” was the reply. “T’ve a letter to write that I want you to de- liver at the little mining-settlement’ten miles from here. You can catch the next stage for the place, and return by the stage that leaves soon after you get there.” Kit’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Here he was, right onto the trail, and the devel- opment of his case had reached a point where the denouement must soon come in, glo- riously. He felt like executing a flip-flap. But, to do s6, just now, when the game seemed ripe for plucking, was out of the question. The walk continued nntil they reached the Western outskirts of the town, when the man paused before asmail slab shanty, and knocked at the door. There was no answer. “(7 guess the old woman is out,” he said. “ However, it don’t matter. I have a key.” This he was not long in producing, and openiug the door, they entered. No sooner had they done so, than Kit was seized, from behind, and bis arms pinioned to his side; then he was thrown to the floor, and his feet pinioned, after which a grim voice said: “Now, younker, ye ain’t quite so fly as you have been for some time past, I reckon. An’ what’s more, you won't be!” CHAPTER XII. OUT OF BONDAGE—‘‘ DEAD ON” THE TRAIL, Ir was for Kit to realize, now, that he was in a trap, and that, for once, his shrewdness had been overmatched. Lying upon the floor, on his back, he al- lowed his gaze to wander about the apart- ment which contained but a few chairs and a table, and he saw who were his captors. , The tall, large-footed man, of course, was one. Then, there was « woman, a young man, and the third was the identical fellow who accosted the Kid on Chestnut Street, in Philadelphia. The young woran was petite, yet well- formed, with a pretty countenance, which was purely French in its features. She was tastily attired. The young man was rather a dandyish- looking indivldual, with blonde hair and mustache, and looked hardly like a heavy villain, but more like a person who would be a tool, in a heavy villain’s power. The man who had uttered the taunt evi- dently was the one whom Kit had met in the Quaker City, so to him the undaunted boy eried: ‘‘Hillo! is that you, old eggs? Why, darn my socks, cf you ain’t the same crank I met out in Philamydelphy. How do ye do, Mister Sam Slaughter?” “You'll find out soon enough how I am!” the man retorted, fiercely. ‘‘Talk to the accursed rat, Schofield,” he said, impatient- ly. ‘‘He is. too tonguey for me, Id kill him for a cent.” «Guess you've done ’bout ernuff killin’ fer a while, ain’t yer?” Kit flashed back. ““Don't you be so lippy, my bird, or you'll stop talking very suddenly,” Schofield ad- monished, quietly. ‘‘ We want to know what you know about the case.” : «* What case?” : ““No back talk, or pretended ignorance now. What do you know about the suicide in Philadelphia?” ‘“Nothin’. It wasn’t no suicide,” Kit re- plied, coolly—‘“‘ it was a deliberate murder, an’ Slaughter, yender, did the job.” ‘What impelled you to turn detective?” “Dunno, more’n 1 smelt a rat, an’ it ’cur- red ter me I orter trap fer it.” “No one suggested the thing to you?” ‘*Nary a one,” “On your way here, an attempt was made to kidnap Rogers’s ether daughter?” “Yes, but we was too much for the dodg- ” «« Where are the parties?” “in Chicago, locked up, where they won’t hurt themselves a-dodgin’ the law.” f ‘Who is this man, Yale?” «“A feller who took a fancy to me, an’ volunteered to see me through to the end.” “Ts he poor?” “Dunno. S’pect he ain’t as rich as old Gould!” “T presume old Rogers thinks well of you for bringing his girl back, and for inform- ing him of the details of the plot against | im.” < ‘Oh, you bet! He’s goin’ ter send me ter ‘
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. ther Legislatur’ next year, soon’s I git a mus- tache started.” ‘“‘He might better be getting estimates on a tombstone for you, boy. Now, look here: We are all friends of Mr. Slaughter here, and employed by him in various branches of the business he carries on. I suppose you have learned that Mr. Slaughter has had ample cause-for seeking revenge on old Rogers, and that the first step toward its consummation has been taken.” “ Kerrect.” “Well, it was, and yet is, intended by Mr. Slaughter to ruin Rogers, both financially and mentally, As you have proven yourself to bea shrewd young hound, and as we in- tend to use you, I state all this to prepare you for the work you are to do.” “You don’t say! How sensible ye are!” *« You'd have been knocked in the head an hour after your arrival in Boise City, but for the fact that we concluded to work you in to good advantage; so now it is a matter of death, or obedience to our orders—we are not particular which.” “D’ye mean ye’d kill me ef I didn’t agree ter do as you order?” ‘* Most assuredly.” “Then thet settles it. Old Rogers an’ the case can go to blazes fer al me; I ain’t takin’ any kill in mine jest at present, ef you please. But go ahead wi’ yer proposish.” “Jt was our intention to offer Rogers the ashes of his daughters at a big price, but since we succeeded only in a part of the plot, through your smartness, we shall have to give up that plan, unless you think Rogers would give a big price for Cassie’s dust.” Kit shuddered at the man’s:heartless vil- lainy. : ay dunno, I’m sure!” he declared. ‘‘8’pose ye c’u’d tell best by tryin’. Don’t think, tho’, he’d shell out very pert.” “Oh, we'll make him do that fast enough, when we get things all arranged. Now, in order to work the game as we propose, we want the other girl. It is all-important we should have her in our possession. Only in that way can we work Rogers for every cent he is worth.” “Shouldn’t wonder but what you are right,” Kit agreed, resolved to see the thing through to the end if he died for it. « How are you going to to get possession of the girl, tho’?” “Weare not going to do it, you to do for us!” : “« Me?” Kit ejaculated, both anxious and elated at the prospect. “Yes, you! We shall make you worth every cent of the yalue of your life to us. The captain does not expect to cperate around here for any great length of time, and while That is for 25 we are here, we do not intend to let any scruples interfere with our little game. We purpose to get possession of the girl through you, and that as soon as possible.” ““Reckon you'll have to wait awhile, be- fore I get her for you,’’ Kit declared. ‘“‘Dun- no how I could work the racket.” **Oh! we'll put you onto that, easy enough. You indite an affectionate epistle to your girl sweetheart, requesting her to meet you at the point where she left you last night. See?” ‘So you was there, hey?” ‘Oh! certainly. Your every movement was shadowed, from the time you arrived in Boise City.” ‘* Will you promise to write what we dic- tate?” “IT s’pose I’ll have to, tho’ it goes ag’in’ my grain.” : *‘T dare say it won't afflict your grain so much as a knife would, if drawn across your jugular!” The shanty boasted of a rude deal-tabdle, and Kit was lifted to a chair, beside it. Be- fore him was placed a pencil and a sheet of paper, and also a letter. “You're to copy from that!” Slaughter ordered, ‘‘and mind you do it right, or I'll slit your throat!” And Slaughter evidently meant what he said. The letter which Kit was to copy was as follows: “Dear Lity:—I send you this in great haste. Meet me to-night, at eight o’clock, at the point where you left me. Say nothing to any one. I have made a great discovery, and you must be the first one to know of it. Yours, Karr.” “Go ahead and copy it!” Slaughter com- manded, ‘‘and don’t ye change a word. IJ'li soon show Steve Rogers how he miscalcu- lated when he tarred and feathered me.” Kit proceeded to obey, for will he knew it would be useless to parley, or refuse, A faint ray of hope entered his mind, as he duplicated the decoying note: would not Lily’s suspicion be aroused? If so, she would show the letter to Yale and her father, and they would make an at- tempt to capture her would-be captors! So he copied the letter, in as good a style of chirography as he could command, and shoved it away from him. “There. That’s ther best I’ kin do,” he said. ‘‘It’s a dirty mean trick to make me do it, too.” Slaughter laughed, maliciously. “T guess it won't change your fortunes much. Tie him up again, boys.” Accordingly Kit’s hands were again bound, and he was dragged into one corner of the room, and left lying there. “Do you suppose he'll be safe there?”
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Be we Se a en: ILS EA —— — as Kit, the Bootblack Detective. Slaughter demanded of Schofield, who was evidently his right-hand man. ; ““Of course he'll be safe,” was the reply. ‘‘We'll lock the door, and I'll guarantee we'll find him here, if we ever have occasion to come back again, Nobody is likely to come within hearing of this place once a week. So they were going off to leave him! This was better news to Kit than though they had remained. “Tet ’em slide,” he mused. ‘‘Ef I can’t git out o’ this fix somehow, I ain’t King of the Kids—” Then aloud: “Say, see here, this ain’t fair,” he whined. “Ye ain’t goin’ ter clear out and leave me locked up ter starve, be ye? I think that’s meaner’n stealin’ the gal.” “Get out, you whelp. You ought to be thankful you're alive,” Slaughter growled. “Tf you get hungry, bite off your tongue and eat that. You won’t have so much then,” The quartette soon took their departure, not forgetting to lock the door after them. There was but the one room to the shanty, and the only furniture consisted of the table and a few stools. There were two windows, one on either side of the door, which, in itself, was not a very substantial affair. Taking in his surroundings, point for oint, Kit turned his attention to himself. Jis ankles were securely bound with strips of hide, and his hands were tied behind his back, presumably with the same kind of thong. Breaking them, of course, was out of the question; so what was to be donc? After some maneuvering, he rolled over to the table, and gained a standing position, walking, of course, being out of the ques- tion. Once at the table he pushed it before him, and jumped after it, dragging a stool along behind him. ‘When the table was near the window, Kit gradually edged around, so as to bring him- self between the table and window, with the stool in his grasp. Poising himself, he crushed the stool against the window with all his might. The result was exactly what he most de- sired. Away went glass and sash, and an opening to the outer air was effected. It was by this time getting dark, but he was able to see that the nearest habitation was not over a quarter of a mile away. “T’ll get there somehow, an’ then I'll be allright. Then, Mister Slaughter, ef I don’t block yer little game, my name’s not Kit. ‘Ye can git Lily in spite o’ me, but I’m a a Jersey mud-hen ef I don’t put ye in the hoel yet.” To get out of the window was not a diffi- cult feat for one so active as the Arab, so he was soon on terra firma As no other plan was left him, he at once began to roll over and over toward the near- est dwelling, from the window of which now gleamed a light. It was a slow and tiresome task, but he finally got near enough to make his calls for assistance heard, and to his great delight a man and a woman with a lantern soon came running up. In less time than it takes to tell it, he was set at liberty, and invited to the near-by habitation, where he was given @ warm sup- per, while he briefly narrated the particulars of his capture, without revealing any of the other facts of the case. After supper, and rewarding his rescuers with a five-dollar gold-piece, he set out for the heart of the town Within an hour’s time he had secured a fleet, horse, and was flying over the road to- ward Bed Rock. ‘Now, Mr. Slaughter-house,” he mutter- ed, ‘look out forme! I’m comin’ an’ there's music in the air.» The band is beginnin’ ter toot ‘Dead March in Saul!” CHAPTER XIII. SLAUGHTER’S LETTER. AxtrsoueH he had some little experience at horseback-riding, never in all his life did Kit have such a ride as that from Boise City to Bed Rock, 4 The horse he bad secured was a ‘ goer,” and seemed perfectly familiar with the route, and if sometimes dashed along with a speed that fairly made Kit’s hair stand erect, al- though he experienced no difficulty in keep- ing his seat in the saddle, so easy was the gait. Tn less than an hour’s time, he reined his foam-flecked steed in at the door of the Rogers cottage. The old man and Yale instantly rushed from the cabin, both visibly excited, aud the detective looking as if he were jast in from a journey, ‘Lily! Lily! Do you know anything of her?” the old man demanded, eagerly. *‘ She has disappeared and we cannot find her.” ‘‘How long have you missed her?” Kat cried. ‘' What time is it?” : “Tt isafter nine o’clock. She has been one over an hour, but I thought nothing of t, as she often runs out, calling on tke neighbors. But, when Yale returned from Boise a few minutes ago and reported that you could not be found, I began a search and cannot find my child.”
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. “Then ye can calculate that she’s in the -power ov yer enemy, Samuel Slaughter- house,” Kit declared. ‘‘1 thought mebbe I e’u’d git heer in time ter pervent et, but it seems | can’t git onter ther ’nack 0) makin’ a hoss go a mile a minnit.” He proceeded then to narrate his adyen- tures, and the probable fate of Lily. «¢ But don’t get down in ther mouth, nunk,” he said, as Mr. Rogers groaned aloud in anguish of spirit. ‘‘It’s bound to turn out all right. Jest pick yer teeth and be ready for the pig, as the Irishman said, an’ I'll fetch matters around all hunky, or my name ain’t Christopher Cool.” “Ym afraid Slaughter has got the best of the gaine,” Yale said, dubiously. ‘Oh! you’re afeard et’s goiu’ ter rain every time ye see a ’coon on the street!” Kit retorted. ‘’Cause a feller steals a base on yer, that don’t hurt; slug him at ther next. Now, as tler sermon is over, ef you'll gita lantern I'll take ye ter wher’ the gal was scooped in.” The camp had not been aroused, as Mr. Rogers had pursued his inquiries for Lily very quietly; so, procuring a lantern, the trio went alone to the point where Lily and Kit had parted, the previous night, and after a short search, evidence was found of a struggle having taken place. There were, also, hoof-marks, which proved conclusively enough that Lily had been carried off on horseback. _ ‘S$he’s a goner, sure enuff,” Kit admit- ted, as they made their way back to the cot- tage. ‘‘Old Sam has got her, an’ now, the next thing aire ter find where his new hang- out is.” “That will be next to impossible,” Mr. Rovers said, sadly. ‘‘ The mountains abound with places of concealment, and it would be only time lost to attempt to find the infernal wretch.” “You are right!” Yale agreed. ‘‘T see but one way to settle this matter, father!” “ Rather!” echoed Mr. Rogers, starting back in inexpressible astonishment— ** father |” 3 “Yes, father,” the detective replied, put- ting out his hand. ‘Have you not sus- pected that 1 am your son, Simon Yale Rogers?” For a moment, the speculator stared at him, as if he could not comprehend—then, he sprung forward, with a glad cry, and was locked in his boy’s embrace. “‘My son! my son! can this be true? Yes, L realize, now, that it is true, for I can see that you look as she did, yearsago. And the name too—I sce it all, now. My boy : mons up, so handsome and noble! May 1 be praised!” ‘‘Yes, father, I am your son, and our meeting is no more of a pleasure to you than to me: and but for this noble hearted youth, it is likely we should never have met, in this world!” ‘They had reached the cottage by this time, and here the re-union gained a warmer as- pect, and explanations and congratulations were exchanged, until, all at once, the father and son made the discovery that Kit was among the missing. Unseen he had slipped from the cabin, and gone—where? That was a question not easy to answer, for the night passed away and the Bootblack Detective did not return. Nor did the dawn of day bring him back to the cabin, although Yale and Mr. Rogers sat up the night through, awaiting his re- turn. When morning came, Mr. Rogers looked his anxiety. “Do you think they have captured him, too?” he queried, pacing to and fro across the room; ‘‘for if they have, I fear we shall miss his services sadly. I have great con- fidence in his genius and shrewdness,” ‘“‘No more than I,” Yale replied; ‘‘ but I do not calculate on his being captured. He has gone to find Lily, and he will not give up till he get’s starved out. He.was caught once, and he will be wary enough not to be caught a second time.” “‘Then must we remain inactive while he is searching?” ‘By no means. Indeed, I do not think we will be given a chance. Before many hours you will be called upon to pay a rap- som for Lily, and poor Cassie’s remains.” “ What then?” “*T see but one thing to do: Slaughter is a man, I judge, whe, once he has the upper hand, will stand no trifling. He will makea demand on you for ransom-money, and if you do not come to time—” **Well—” “ He will kill Lily, out of spite, before your eyes, and depend upon you being only too glad then to ransom the body and Cassie’s ashes!” ‘‘Great God! Do you believe that such a thing could be possible?” “T do An act such as Cassie’s murder and incineration proves the man a human fiend, and a human fiend might safely be counted capable of any further horrible deed!” “Then what must I do?” “How much money have you at your command?” : “T presume Tcan raise sixty thousand.dol- ars.’ “Do you suppose Slaughter has an idea that you can raise so much?” i
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. “Yes. I haven’t a doubt but what he knows to a cent what my bunk account is.” “Then I see nothing else for you to do but draw out your money, and sland ready to | méet his demands. Of course, it is hard to lose so much, but scarcely harder, 1 think, than to see Lily’s life sacrificed, and Cassie’s ashes scattered to the winds!” “True! true! my boy; such a thing cannot be permitted, even though we have to give up the last stitch of clothing on our backs. I shall, of course, have to go to Boise City, to obtain the money.” “| will accompany you, and, to all in- tents, will remain there, leaving you to re- turn here alone; but I will return, secretly, and will be near at hand all the while.” It was so arranged. Stages ran frequently between Bed Rock and the city; so father and son made ready, and caught the next one that started. On their arrival in Boise City, Mr. Rogers proceeded to the bank and withdrew _his deposit, and took the next stage for Bed Rock; while Yale remained in Boise City, and sauntered about town, idly, as if having nothing to. do. Instead of following his movements, we will return with Mr. Rogers to Bed Rock. The old gentleman was well-armed, but, nevertheless, was very nervous all the way, lest the stage should be stopped, and he robbed of all his cash. Such an event did not occur, however, and he reached his cottage in safety shortly after noon, On his arrival there, he found a letter thrust in under the door, which he read with feelings that can better be imagined than de- scribed. It was from Samuel Slaughter, and ran as follows, the most careful pains evidently having been taken, to make it a model of communications of its kind: “ Near Bep Rook, Ino. * August 19th, 188-. “Srepuen Rogers, Srr:— “T presume it will not surprise you to receive a few lines from me, your formor partner and confl- dant, inasmuch as | know that you are aware I have inaugurated my campaign under the most favorab’e auspices. And whén I come to deliberate over the circumstances that caused me to open this cam- paign, I feel confident that you cann»t reasonably regret the success I shall surely attain, considering the expense and trouble I have been forced to shoul- der, in order to perfect all necessary arrangements for a triumphant victory. * For months—ay, years, now— I have been plan- ning ty scheming toward the end that now draw- eth nigh, “Tt was the consuming passion of my life—this object, revenge. It was the haunting visitant of my dreams at night; it hau ted my every thousht by day; so much so that it became the ruling passion | of my life—to wreak vengeance on you, who spoiled my love's young dream, and instigated the applica- | tion to my skin of a coat of tar and feathers. “Ah! that was fun. wasn’t it—fun for all except me; but, after all, I did not rezret it so much, as it increased my hatred for you a hundred fold, and set me to work to devise methods to strike you the most malignant, soul-torturing blow man could de- vise, [shadowed you, when you little dreamed of it, and took note of your devotion to your chil- dren, resolved through them to consummate my scheme. “Although you may not be aware of the fact, I now have, and long have had in my employ a num- berof people, who, so long as they are paid well, are not afraid of w rk so long as it is strictly honest and honorable. Of course they would not stoop to do any other kind of work. Well, by workinz things nicely, I enticed your daughters to Philadel- phia, and one of them, by some inexplicable acci- dent, came to her death. Knowing how bitterly you would be opposed to having her remains put under the sod so far from you, I was thoughtful and considerate enough to have them cremated, in order that they ¢ ull be more easily transported hither. Ihave them‘with me now, securely put up in a silver jar, bearing a label, $25,000. “Your youngest daughter, unfortunately, escaped my guardianship, and was returned to you by a | boy, who has, ere now, passed beyond his sphere of usefu'nes3 in this world. And, at the same time, your daughter is my captive. And thns my revenge is accomplisned, Steve Rogers. and it is very sweet. “It is my desire to ci se up business in these parts | with all dispatch possible, as I have interests de- manding my attention elsewhere. My aides nave already gone in advance of me, and I shall fol- low as soon a; we conclude our monetary tiansac- tions, “Your daughter Lillian I do not propose to kill, | unless it becomes necessary, as my appetite for re- venge.can be satiated without murder. She is yours agetn—for a price. “You have in bank, at Boise City, fifty-eight thou- . sand dollars. For that sum you can have back you daughter, and the silver jar—and not for one cent less, ‘1; will be useless to parley. The money, or the ashes of the dead shall be scatte-ed to the winds aud the living daughter shall be lost to you forever, . These are t :e only terms. “Follow the appended directions if you wish to receive your treasures bac . Leave your place at five o’clock to-night, and wa k to the Biz Bear ledge overlooking the falls of Little Painter cataract. You know where it is, for you have been there. Bring no one with you, under penalty of not only your own life but that of yourdaughter. “When you reach the lege, and I am perfectly satisfied that you are alone and no one near, I w appear to you, receive the ransom money, deliver up your daughter and the jar, and keeping you cov- ered, retir» forever from your sight and this region. If not satisfied that you are alone, I will not appear, an! you will be shot dead, and rebbed, ana your daurhter and the jar cast over the precipice, That w'll be the end. “So take your choice. The moon will shine on Big Bear ledge at nine o'clock, and I shall look for you at that hour. ‘“*Triumphantly yours, “Sam’L SLavGHTer.” What must the all-wise Ruler think of a man with a soul so scarred with sin? CHAPTER XIV. CONCLUSION. Poor old Steven Rogers! He perused the terrible letter, in a dazed sort of way, and yet only too clearly com- prehended it all—that Slaughter, indeed, had
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* oa triumphed in his revenge and was now the master. Five o’clock soon came and Yale had not yet put in an appearance, at the cottage; so knowing of nothing better to do, Rogers mounted his horse, and set off into the moun- tains, on his journey to the Little Painter cat- aract, a turbulent creek that leaped down the mountain-side, and, flowing out upon a wide shelving rock, fell, in a silvery sheet, into a basin, fifty feet below. Mr. Rogers had been there before, pros- pecting, and knew just how to reach it. * It was atedious journey through labyrin- thine mountain-passages, and it was full nine o’clock ere he set foot upon the ledge, which Slaughter had named, in his letter, The moon sent a dim flood of light down upon the rugged scene; the water flowed swiftly over the precipice, and. went roaring down, into the depths, below. ; As Rogers stepped upon the ledge, from the tortuous path, which led to it, a deep commanding voice cried out: % re Stephen Rogers, fold your arms and alt!’ The speculator obeyed, and the next mo- ment Slaughter stepped out from behind a projecting spur of rock and confronted him. «Ah! you are punctual,” the villaia said, eying the old man, venomously. ‘“‘ Who did-you bring with you, sir?” “Tf you have kept track of my _move- ments, you monster, you know that I came alone.” “‘ Correct. ing the truth, if nothing more. rd the money?” ae did.’”’ I will give you credit for tell Did you “So I am aware. You went to Boise in advance of my letter, anticipating what my demand would be. That was kind of you, as I am in somewhat of a hurry to get out of this part of the country, so deliver.” “T must first see my daughter, and the vase!” Rogers replied, sternly. “‘ Without reply, Slaughter backed behind the spur, keeping the revolver in his grasp, ready for instant use. In a moment he returned, leading Lily, and carrying the jar, which he placed at her feet, ashe brought her to a standstill. «There, sir, ist your daughter and the jar. Now, the money! Rogers drew a large bundle of bills from his pocket, and tossed them to the scoundrel, who caught them with one hand, still main- taining revolver guard with his other. ‘Now, then, Stephen, my revenge being complete, I will bid you adieu forever,” he said, as he began backing behind the ledge. Searcely were the words out of his mouth, however, when a boyish figure sprung from Kit, the Bootblack Detective. 29 behind the spur, and with a blow from a club, knocked the revolver from Slaughter’s grasp, at the same time making a dash to se- cure it. Quick as a flash, and with a snarl not un- like an infuriated panther, Slaughter seized his new adversary, and endeavored to hurl him into the falls; bit with the tenacity of a twenty-horse power leech, the boy clung to him—for it was Kit—and « desperate strug- gle ensued, Mr. Rogers seeming suddenly powerless to interfere, while, as for Lily, her hands were tied behind her back. Nearer and nearer to the edge of the preci- pice the two foes writhed, Then—hark! A rifle report! Slaughter staggers, falls—goes over the precipice, carrying Kit with him, just as Yale Rogers leaps upon the ledge. Slaughter’s body and that of Kit were re- covered in the basin, many feet below, The ruffian was dead, and his body was at once cast into the torrent by the detective, who soon reached the spot. In Kit’s body.a spark of life was found to remain, and this was slowly nursed into a flame, until the boy was able to be conveyed back to Bed Rock, where of course he re- ceived the best care that money or kindness could produce, It was weeks, however, before he was able to sit up, or understand what had happened— weeks of mental and physical suffering, such as many a constitution less rugged than his could not have endured. At last, he ‘came around all right,” and was then first told cf all that had hap- pened, after his terrible plunge over the precipice. Slaugbter’s three companions had been found dead in a cabin in the mountains, and their bloated condition proclaimed that they had come to their death by poison, which, no doubt, had been administe:ed by the prince of fiends incarnate—S’aughter. Cassie’s ashes had been buried. News from Chicago had been received to the effect that McGill and his confederates had been let out on bail, hut had ‘‘ skipped” and were then at lurge. ; And Yale? Oh! Yale had returned East, weeks before, and a Jetter had been received from him, announcing his good health, in- quiring after Kit, and sending word that he was to be married inside of a twelvemonth to a Miss Dorrit Darling. And Lily? Kit brightened perceptibly, as he inquired about her. Lily? Why she had accompanied Yale as far Hast as a certain young ladies’ seminary, where she would remain two years, to finish i a UM
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Kit, the Bootblack Detective. her education. She also had written, and sent her kindest regards to Kit. “And, now, my dear boy,” Mr. Rogers said, when, a few days later, the young hero was able to be up and about, once more in good health—‘‘now, Kit, I want to know how much I am indebted to you for the noble work you have dore, for myself and family. The money Slaughter would have got, but for you, I have already placed in the bank to yourcredit, and anything else you name I will endeavor to do for you!’ ‘*Mr. Rogers!’ the Bootblack Detective returned, ‘‘l want neither money nor other compensation for the service I have been able to do, nor will I accept it. Some day, when Ihave made my mark in the world, and stand on equal footing, both socially and financially, with her whom you have sent be- yond my reach—then, I will claim my re- ward!” No argument could change his mind. Tis resolution was fixed and as firm as adamant; and the very next day, with his blacking-box slung tohis back, and a feeling of injured pride gnawing at his heart, he boarded the train, and left Boise Cily, perhaps forever. THE END. BEADLE AND ADAMS’ Dime Hand-Books. Hand-Books ‘of Games. Handbook ef Summer Sports, Book of Croquet. Yachting and Rowing. Chess Instructor. Riding and Driving. Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestrianism, Guide to Swimming, Handbook of Winter Sports—Skating, ete, Lives of Great Americans. Il.—George Washington. TI, -John Paul Jones, TH..—Mad Anthony Wayne XT.—Abraham Lincoln, IV.—Ethan Allen, XII.—Pontiac., V.—Marquis de Lafayette | XIII.—Ulysses S. Grant. VIII.—Israel Putnam. X.—Tecumseh. Young People’s Series. Ladies’ Letter-Writer. Gents’ Letter-Writer + Fortune-Teller, Book of Etiquette. Lovers’ Casket. Book of Verses. | Ball-room Companion, Book of Dreams, Book of Beauty, Book of Games. Manuals for Housewives. 1. Cook Book. 2. Recipe Book, 3. Housekeeper’s Guide, 4. Family Physician, 5. Dressmaking and Mik linery. ¢@" The above books are sold by newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to any ad- dress, on receipt of price, ten cents each, Brave anp Apams, Publishers, 98 William st., N. Y, BEADLE AND ADAMS’ STANDARD DIME PUBLICATIONS Speakers. The Dime Speakers embrace twenty-five volumes, viz.: 1, American Speaker. 2. National Speaker, 3. Patriotic Speaker. 17. . Comic Speaker. 18. 5, Elocutionist. . Humorous Speaker. 19, . Standard Speaker, | 20; t 15. Komikal Speaker. 16, Youth’s Speaker. Eloquent peaker. Hail Columbia Speak- er. Serio-Comie Speaker, Select Speaker. 21, Funny Speaker. 22. Jolly Speaker. 23. Dialect Speaker. 24. Recitations and Read ings. Burlesque Speaker. . Stump Speaker, 9, Juvenile Spealer, 10. Spread-Kagle Speaker 1, Dime Debater. 12, Exhibition Speaker. 13, School Speaker. 25, 14. Taudicrous Speaker, These books are replete with choice pieces for the School-room, the Exhibition, for Homes, etc, 75 to 100 Declamations and Recitations in each book, Dialogues. The Dime Dialogues, each volume 100 pages, em- brace thirty-seven books, viz.: |Dialogues No. Nineteen. Dialogues No. Twenty. Dialogues No. Three. |Dialogues No, Twenty-one. Dialogues No, Four. Dialogues No, Twenty-two. Dialogues No. Five, Dialogues No, Twenty-three, Dialogues No, Six. lpiathenes No. Twenty-four. Dialogues No. Seven. |Dialogues No Twenty-five. Dialogues No, Eight. Dialogues No. Twenty-six. Dialogues No. Nine. |DialoguesNo, Twenty-seven. Dialogues No, Ten. Dialogues No. Twenty-eight, Dialogues No, Bleven, Dialogues No. Twenty-nine, Dialogues No. Twelve. Dialogues No, Thirty. Dialogues No. Thirteen. Dialogues No. Thirty-one Dialogues No, Fourteen, Dialogues No, Thirty-two, Dialogues No. Fifteen. Dialogues No. Thirty-three, Dialogues No, Sixteen. Dialogues No, Thirty-four Dialogues No.Seventeen Dialogues No, Thirty-five. Dialogues No. Wighteen Dialogues No. Thirty-six. Dialogues No. Thirty-seven. Dialogues No. One. ° Dialogues No, Two. 15 te 25 Dialogues and Dramas in each book. Each volume contains 100 large pages, printed from clear, open type, comprising the best collee- tion of Dialogues, Dramas and Recitations. Dramas and Readings. 164 12mo Pages. 20 Cents. For Schools, Parlors, Entertainments and the Am ateur Stage, comprising Origifial Minor Dramas, Comedy, Farce, Dress Pieces, Humorous Dialogue and Burlesque, by noted writers: and Recitationg and Readings, new and standard, of the greatest celebrity and interest. Bdited by Prof, A, M. Russel. For sale by all newsdeaiers, or sent, post-paid, om receipt of price—ten cents. _ BEADLE AND ADAMS, Precisnera, 98 William Sireet. New York,
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= BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. = ee ge gus, the New York Boy. By G, L. Aiken, °225 Dick Drew, the Miner’s Son; or, Apollo Bill, the __ Road-Agent. By Edward L. Wheeler. 226 Dakota Dick in Chicago; or, Jack, the Old Tar. By Charles Morris. 227 Merle, the Boy Cruiser; or, Brandt, the Buc- eaneer. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 228 The Preacher Detective; cr, The Boy Ventrilo- ist. By Oll Coomes. 229 Old Hickory’s Grit. By John J. Marshall. 230 The Three Boy Sports; or, The Sword Hunters. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 1 Sierra Sam, the Detective. By Edward L. ~ Wheeler. 232 Merle Monte’s Treasure; or, Buccaneer Brandt’s Threat. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 233 Rocky Rover Kit; or, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. a Ensign C. D. Warren. 234 Baldy, the Miner Chief. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, 285 Jack Stump’s Cruise; or, The Montpelier’s Muti- ueers. By Rozer Starbuck, 236 Sierra Sam’s Double; or, The Three Female De- tectives. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 237 N -wsboy Ned. 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By Edward Willett. 252 Denver Doll's Device: or, The Detective Queen. By Edward L. Wheel 253 The Boy Tenderfoot: Colorado. By Cant. } 254 Black Hills Ben; or, + Path. By Maj. Le 255 Jolly Jim, De . Victory. B 206 Merle Monte’s Lost C . at Bay. By Col. Pren 237 The Boy Ch California Pards 2th Roaring Ben Bundy of ark Wiion. Dutch Jan on the War- s W. Carson. he Young Protege’s e; or, The Sea Robber Keeper. By Capt. J. F. 264 Denver.Doll’s Partner; or, Big Buckskin the Sport. By E. L. Wheeler. - 265 Billy, the Baggaze Boy; or, The Young Railroad Detective. By Charles Morris. 266 Guy’s Boy Chum; or, The Forest Waif’s Mask. By Capt. Comstock, 267 Giant George’s Revenge; or, The Boys of “ Slip- up Mine.” By Buckskin Sam. 268 The Dead Shot Dandy; or, The Rio Grande Marauders. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 269 The Quartzville Boss; or, Daring David Darke, By Edward Willett. 270 Denver Doll’s Mine; or, Little Bill’s Big Loss. By E. L, Wheeler. 271 Ebony Jim’s Terror; or, Ranger Rainbolt’s Ruse. 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Whittaker. 28 Old Rocky's Parad; or, Little Ben’s Chase. By Buckskin Sam, 286 Dick, the Dakota Sport By Charles Morris. 287 Ned, the Boy Skipper; or, The Sea Sorceress’ Cruise. By Jack Farragut. 288 Deadwood Dick’s Disguise; or, Wild Walt, the Sport. By Edward L, Wheeler. 289 Colorado Nick, the Lassoist; or, Old Si’s Protege. By Major H. B, Stoddard, 2090 Rube, the Tenderfoot; or, The Boy’s of Torpedo Gulch. By Major E. L, St. Vrain. 291 Peacock Pete, the Leadville Svort; or, Hawk, the Boss Miner. By Albert W. Aiken. 292 Joe Morey, the Night-Hawk; or, The Black Rider. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 293 Dwarf Jake, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon’s Man Hunt. By Edward Wille‘t. 294 Dumb Dick’s Pard; or, Eliza Jane, the Gold Miner. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 295 White Wing, the Ferret Wiyer. By Chas. Morris. 296 Govinda, the Tiger-Tamer; or, The American Horseman Abroad. By Captain F. Whittaker. 297 Arizona Giant George; or, The Boyees of Sardine- Box City. By Buckskin Sam. 208 Daisy Doll's Dash; or, The Ten Colorado Pards. By T. C. Harbavgh. 299 The Balloon Detectives; or, Jack Slasher’s Young Pard. By Harry Enton. 300 Deadwood Dick’s Mission. By EB. L, Wheeler, 301 atte Duke, the Cowboy. By Major E. L. St. Train. 302 Big Benson's Bet. By T. C. Harbaugh. 303 The Hotel Boy Detective; or, The Grand Central Robbery. By Charles Morris. 804 Bald Head’s Pard; or, Creeping Cat’s Cunning. By Buckskin Sam. 805 Dusky Dick’s Duel; or, The Demon’s Trail. By Harry Hazard. = 806 Spotter Fritz; or, The Store-Detective’s Decoy. By E. L. Wheeler. 307 Nick, the Boy Sport or, Three Plucky Pards, By Maj. E. L, St. Vrain. 808 Double-Tisted Mat; or, The Mystic California Giant. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 809 Old Gras Saga The Girl's Ruse. By Boy; or, C. Dunning °
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BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. : $10 Kit, the Girl Captain; or, The Mad Sailor’s Legacy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 811 Frio Fred in Texas. By Buckskin Sam. 312 The Detective Road-Agent; or, The Miners of Sassafras City. By Edward L. Wheeler. 313 Honest Jack's Protege; or, The Dwarf’s Scheme, By Philip 8, Warne. 814 Clip. the Boy_Sheriff; or, The Two Crooks of Montana. By Edward Willett. 815 Tom, the Arizona Sport; or, oe Hank from Hard Luck. By Major E. L. St. Vrain. 816 The Street-Arab Detective; or, Dick Dorgan’s Do xble Dealitig. By Charles Morris, 817 Buckskin Ben of Texas; or, Single-Eye’s Plucky Pards, By Buckskin Sam. 818 Colorado Charlie’s Detective Dash; The Cattle Kings. By Edward L. Wheeler. 819 Frisky Frank in Idaho; or, Old Skinflint the Shadower. By Roger Starbuck. 820 Cool Sam’s Girl Pard; or, Captain Dick and His Texans. By T. C, Harbaugh. 821 Billy, the Kid from Frisco; or, Silver Mask’s Clew. By J. C. Cowdrick. 822 Fred Flyer, Detective; or, Abe Blizzard on Deck. By.Charles Morris. 823 Dead Shot Ike in Montana; or, Hez Helper, the Yankee Pard. By Roger Starbuck. 824 Kit, the Denver Sport; or, The Bonanza Miner King. By Edward . Wheeler. 325 Dusky Darrell, the Camp Detective; or, The Dandy’s Daring Dash. By Hdwin Emerson, 826 Roy, the Boy Cruisef; or, The Water Wolf Wreckers, By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 327 Ned, the Roving Miner: or, Arkansaw Jack’s Match. By Harry Hazard. 828 Rocky Ben’s Band; or, Big Pete’s Big Haul, W. J. Hamilton. 329 Dave, the Colorado Wrestler. Vrain. 330 The Denver Sport’s Racket; or, Kit’s Big Boom, By Edward L, Wheeler. 331 The Coast Detective; or, The Smuggler Shadow- er. By Roger Starbuck, 332 Dakota Dan in Canyon City; or, Colorado Kate's Check. By Philip 8. Warne. A 333 Bootblack Ben, the Detective; or, Pooler Jim and His Pard. By Anthony P, Morris 334 Frisco Tom on Deck; or, The Golden Gate Smug- glers. By George Henry Morse, 335 Ben Bandy, the Boss Pard; or, The Plucky Parson. Bs J. Stan! ey Her derson. 336 pred the Sport. in Brimstone Bar Camp; or, he Boston Wrestler’s Confederate. By Ed. Wheeler 337 Daisy Dave, the Colorado Galoot; or, The Boss of Dead Line City. By T. C. Harbaugh, 5 338 The ale Bar researc! nse He Ike, the Solid Man. By Major E. L. St. ¥ $39 Rardo, the Boy Gypsy; of, Reckless Rolf's Re- volt. By Wm. G. Patten. 340 Billy Bubble’s Big Score; or, Tim, the Tramp. By Charles Morris. 241 Colorado Steve’s Dash; or, Old Buncomb’s Sure Shot. By Pbilip 8. Warne, or, By By Maj. E. L, St. 342 Snap-Shot Sam; or, Ned Norris's Buckskin Sam, 3483 Mike, the Bowery Deteetive; or, Peleg Prancet of Vermont, By Edward L. Wheeler, 344 The Drummer Sport; or, Captain Dasher’s Droll Dilemma. By dward Willett, 345 Jaques, the Hardpan Detective; or, Captain Frisco, the Road-Agent. By J. C. Cowarick. 346 Joe, the Chicago Arab; or, A Boy of the Times, By Charles Morris. 347 Middy Herbert’s Prize; or, The Girl Captain’s Revenge. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 348 Sharp-Shooter Frank; or, The Young Texan Pards. By Buckskin Sam. 849 Buck, the Miner; or, Alf, the Colorado Guide. By Maj. E. L, St. Vrain. 350 Ned, the Slab Cif; Spel or, The Detective’s Big Secop. By E. L. Wheeler, 351 Rocky Mountain _Joe; Oy pees Simplicity on the War Path. By Col. T. H, Monstery. 352 New York Tim; or, The Boss of the Boulevard, By Charles Morris. 353 The Girl Pilot; or, Ben, the Reef-Runner. Roger Starbuck. 854 Joe, the Boy pee. Driver; or, Nick Hicken’s Cusning. By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain. 855 Texas Frank's Crony; or, The Girl Hosts Rider. By Buckskin Sam. By 856 Idaho Ned, Detective; or, The Miners of Tarpoeen = City. By Edward L. Wheeler. 387 Guy, the Boy Miner; or. Rocky Mountain Bill, By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 358 Jersey Joe. the Old Tar; or, The Wrecker’s Protege. By Mrs. Orin James. 859 Dandy Dick’s Dash; or, The Boy. Cattie-King. — By Oll Comes. 360 Jim's Big Bonanza; or, Jake Dodd and His” ; Gang. By W. J. Hamilton. 361 Oregon Phil, the Sport; or, The Marshal of Two Bits. By Puilip S. Warne. 362 Kit. the Bootblack Detective; Philadelphia to the Rockies. By Wheeler. 263 The Ocean Racer; cr, Trusty Tom, the Tar, By T. CG. Harbaugh. 864 Fritz’s Old Score; or, Sib Cone’s Right Bower, By Ned Buntline. 265 Crack Shot Harry; or, The Masked Rider. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 266 Gold Dust Rock, the Whirlwind of the Mines, By G. Waldo Browne. “Ready January 14. 267 Fred’s Boll Game; or, The Cave Treasure, By Paul Bibbs. Ready January 21. A New Issue Every Wednesday, or. From Edward L, Beapue’s Pocxer Lisrary is for sale by all News-— dealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on re- ceipt of six cents each. Beapitu aNp Apams, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York,