Beadle's Pocket Library (no. 389) (1891 06 24)
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x AN a \. a Ve > r < Tet TE ee ! tI (at ia ha Copyrighted, 1891, by Brapiz anv Apams, Entered as Second Clasg Matter at June 24, 1891, No 389 82.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Price, Vol. XXX ‘ ' ‘ . a Year, No. 98 Witttam St. New York. Five Cents. NEW YORK BILL, THE DODGER. BY EDWARD WI ve Z << g BS nes BILL, PUTTING HIS HEAD THROUGH A BROKEN WINDOW, LOOKED OUT AT THE STARRY NIGHT ** ARE YOU ALIVE, SIM?’ HE CALLED OUT,
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New York Bill, THE DODGER; OR, Two Boys Who Were ‘Bo anced.’ ‘ao BY EDWARD WILIETT1, . AUTHOR OF ‘WIDE-AWAKE GE( RGE, THE BOY PIONEER,” ETC., E10. CHAPTER I. 4 A DROP AND A SMASH, ee A soy of fifteen was napping it in the emi- a grant car of a railway train that was speeding across the State of Illinois. as he slept there, with his head uneasily reclin- ing in a corner, and his mouth wide open. He _ had light hair and a clear complexion, and did eg not look as if he had been extravagantly fed. ; His clothes, common in quality, were rusty and a worn, Suddenly he awoke, startled out of his sleep by some bad dream, or a severe jolting of the ear. Then it could be seen by the dim light-of the railway lamp, that he had a bright faco, and was quick and alert in his motions. ‘““Where’s Uncle Amos?’ he muttered, as he rubbed his eyes and looked at the empty seat by | his side. } hes. He got up and went through the car, erin “| closely at all the men who were awake aoe ; asleep. Then he came back, looking father ‘ disconsolate, ‘Td like to know what has become of Uncle y Amos,” he said, as he resumed his seat. z., A boy stepped up and took the aa est seat at ; his side. He seemed to be somewhat older than 5 the lad who had lost his ‘‘Uncle Amos,” per- a haps a year or so older. At least, ho had an older look on his face, His clothes were ragged, and his general appearance was that of a street on vagabond. But he had a plensant face, in spite ; of his snub nose, and he spoko kindly to the 7 younger boy. sh 37 “Was you lookin’ fur the man who sct hero?” a he acked. Fe, er replied the other, ‘and I can’t find Co I guess you won’t see him no more.” . “What do you mean by that?’ T heerd bim tell my man, a while ago, that | he was goin’ to drop keg and he got off a sta- wa tion or two back, and he didn’t git on ag’in. I guess you're dropped.” / “ Drop me!” exclaimed the bereaved boy. | “Drop me! I reckon he had better look out what he's droppin’. If I'd known he had any | Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head, iF He was not at all an ill-looking young fellow, | io =e notion as that, Pd ha’ dropped him mighty ae den. si ‘Sted o’ that, he got the drop on you. Ishe or ‘your dad?” , ' “No; be is my Uncle Amos. He told me . that he had got tired of keepin’ me, and was in’ to take me West, to my Uncle Epbr’im. ; _ So we started, and hare I am.” "a “He told my man that he guessed he had 3 took you about far aa Py and would go back and let you slide on, e said that my man might have you if he wanted; but my man laughed and said he’d got boys enough to ’tend to. What’s your name, bub?’ “Sim Brattle, and I came from C'natta. What’s yours?” “Bill Yards.” “That?’s a jolly queer name.” ‘*Yes; it makes a feller think of Bill Pool, who was shot.” ‘Was your daddy called Front Yards, or Back Yards?” **T guess he must ha’ been called Stock Yards as he was a butcher. But he’s dead long ago, andI don’t belong to nobody. I was took up in New York by some sort of a’ciety, and they sent a lot of us boys West to grow up with the country. They meant to play me off on the farmers, as if the farmers don’t have a hard enough time! But, I dropped my man where your uncle ameped you. I got off the train with bim and the rest of the boys, but sneaked around the car, and jumped on ag’in, jist as it started. I guess my man ain’t frettin’ his life out about it, though.” “* What's his name?” added Sim Brattle. ‘His name is Quigg. and he’s a pig.” “That’s arhyme. What’s his business?” “He said it was Phil—that’s the fust name. The second was a woman’s name—yes, it was Ann;—Phil Ann—the rest of it was Dutch, I guess.” “You son’t mean to say, Bill, that he was a phileuthropist?” ‘ “Yhat’s the name, Ain’t it a whooper?” It’s lucky that you dropped him. I have h ard that those chaps are mighty rough with b ys when they git their clamps on them. \ here are you goin’ now?” * “ As far as these cars will carry me. “« What will you do when you git there?” “Tf we fetch up in St. Louis, as I guess we : ill, T can find shoes to black and papers to sell - st the same as in New York.” “But I don’t know how to black shoes and sell papers,” demurred ®im. “Oh, it’s easy enough to learn, I'll put you up to all the dodges,” c “T will go with you, then, Bill, as far as you 0.” ; On this point the conductor had something to Wy. He soon passed through the car, and a the two boys for their tickets. As they had none, they stared blankly at him and at each other, But they must show their tickets, the con- ductor told them, or pay their fare. — Sim Brattle explained that he had been with his uncle, who had got off the train, leaving him aboard. Bill declared that he had been in. charge of 1 man who had similarly disap d. ‘“ Tsee how it is,” said the conductor. ‘* You”— addressing himself to Bill—‘t were with those five boys who were brought from New York to Illinois, and you have given your party the slip. You ”—turning to Sim—‘‘I judge to be in the same kind of ascrape. I suppose I ought to send you back; but you may goon as far as you ay. of Our fares was paid once,” declared Bill.
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Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. 3 “Where to? Not as far as this, Pll be bound. You must shell out, youngsters, or I shall drop you at the next station.” Ther jammed their bands into their empty pockets, and the conductor went on. “This drop game is gittin’ pant onto us a leetle too often,” protested Bill. a What will we do when he drops us?” asked m. “Dunno yet. Somethin’ will happen, of course; so we'll wait fer the fun.” The fun” came all too soon, Almost as he spoke there was an unusually heavy jolt, that startled the whole train; then a noise of some- thing cracking and breaking, and then a repid thumping of car wheels over ties, all mingled with shouts and screams from the forward cars. _ ‘Hold on, Sim!” warned Bill. “The breechin’ is broke, sure’s you're a sinner!” Then the car the boys were in followed the others down a steep embankment, rolling over twice before it reached the bottom, The darkness, the crash of breaking glass and wood and iron, and the general wreck and whirl, in which everything movable, themselves included, was dashed and tumbled about, left the two lads nearly out of their wits when the bottom of the embankment was reached. Bill Yards was the first to move and feel about him. The car, broken in the middle and with its trucks gone, had finally rested on the remains of its floor, and Bill, putting his head through a broken window, looked out at the starry night. ** Are you alive, Sim?” he called out, ; “Yes, but mighty close squeezed. Can you git out?” “ Rasy as rollin’ off a log.” ** Roll off, then, and Pll foller as soon as I can git my foot loose.” In afew minutes the boys were free from the car, and standing by the wreck, shaking their legs and feeling of their bruised bodies. ** Anythin’ bu’sted?” asked Bill. “No; but I feel as though I’d been through a board mill.” * And I feel as if I'd tackled a thrashin’ ma- chine.” ; on There’s plenty wuss off than us, though, i No doubt of that. The engine, baggage-car and three passenger-cars were huddled together at the bottom of*the ravine, a smoking mass of ruins, from which came cries of pain and pite- ous appeals for help. The car next to them be- gan to blaze, and they hurried toward the light. Agonizing cries came froma point of wreckage near the blaze, and Sim Brattle jumped up on the broken car, that was lying on its side, and looked in at the shattered window. There he saw the face of a woman, distorted by fear and pain. “Help!” she shouted. ‘The car is on fire, and we soon be burned to death!” “Fetch a rock, Bill!” shouted the lad. Bill Yards brought a heavy stone, and climbed up to his friend, who cleared the broken glass from the window, and reached down. “Take out my child first!” begged the woman and Sim then saw the face of a girl, which had been hidden from him by the shadow. . “ All right, missis,” he said. ‘We'll do our best. See if you can fetch her a shove, down there.” The ‘“‘child” proved to be a nearly grown girl, and it was pretty hard tugging for the boys to pull her out of the empty car; but they suc- ceeded, and landed her on the ground, where she seemed to be safe and sound. Then they turned their attention to the wo- man, but this was a more difficult matter, as she was jammed in by the wreckage, and the open- oe ee not large enough to allow them to get at her, But the fire was burning briskly, and there was no time to be lost. Bill Yards seized the stone, and smashed in the partition between two windows, and his companion jumped down into the mass of tan- gled seats and broken timber. Bidding the imprisoned woman wait a mo- ment, he worked his way toward the advancin fire, and in spite of the heat broke off a bit o blazing wood, by the light of which he exam- ined her position, Perceiving that she was fastened down by a broken seat, be poles it away, exerting all bis strength, and she was free; but she was still unable to move, and said that she feared her leg- was broken. Sim told his friend to bring the girl te help, and she was lifted to the side of the car, j Then, with one to lift and two to pull, the woman, who was not very heavy nor entirely helpless, was got out of the car, and Sim Brat- tle followed her, just as the flames broke out bebind him. After considerable difficulty they carried her away from danger, and laid her safely on the turf, out of the reach of the burning wreck, Tben they saw that she was a handsome, Spe api a, Phe to: ¢ with a pale and patien face, plainly but neatly dressed. The * child” had even more than her mother’s beauty, and her clear complexion, large blue eyes, and bright golden hair showed good advantage in the starlight. “That was a close call, missis,” said Bill Yards, ** We owe our lives to ina replied the suffer- ing woman, ‘and I will never forget the debt, though I am not able to pay it. What is your name?” * Bill Yards, ma’am.” * And yours, my young friend?” “Sim Brattle.” ; “Tam Mrs. Ames, and this is my daughter ‘Amy. I shall never forget your names, and I hope I may meet you again, and prove to you that you are not forgotten.” “That's allright, ma’am. Now, we must go and see if there’s anythin’ more we can do.” As they turned to go, the girl Amy seized Sim’s hand, raised it to her lips, and kissed it, while her tears rained upon it. CHAPTER IL AN ORPHAN FOR ADOPTION, THERE was plenty to be done, but by this time there were many people doing it, Those 7 (¥ G ori es A aa Abie Bede i
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4 Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. who had not been injured had hastened to assist | those who were confined in the wrecked ‘and | burning train. Tl news flies swiftly, and people had hurried to the spot from the surrounding country, with lanterns and tools, The blazin gars also furnished light, and everybody woyke with a will, and soon all was done that could be done by those on the spot. On the ground were laid a number of mangled victims of the collision, some of them screaming, others groaning, and others enduring their pain in silence. Elsewhere lay several others, silent and motionless, who would never scream, or groan, or feel par any more. As the two lads moved about the wreck, Sim Brattle picked up a medium-sized black sachel, of thick leather and very rah At the same time they beard an old man, ina group just ahead of them, crying over a loss, “Tt was a black sachel,” he said, ‘pretty heavy, but of no value to anybody but the owner, and I will give a fine reward for it. Oh, it can’t have been burned!” / ““What sort of a sachel was yours, mister?” asked Sim, concealing his find behind him as he stepped forward. he old man described it, and the boy handed itoverto him. Heseizediteagerly, and at once | examined it, to make sure that it had not been opened. “Heaven will bless you, my young friend,” “There is nothing in it but some iron Come to he said. castings, but they are useful to me. my place—Cornelius Corum, Second street, St. Louis, and you shall have a fine reward.” ‘There was money in that sachel, and we may whistle for a reward,” muttered Sim, as | the old man hobbled away, hugging the sachel | under his arm. Intelligence of the disaster had been flashed over the wires, and soon a train reached the wreck, bringing physicians, stretchers, blankets, bandages, and other help for the wounded. All were got on board, including the dead, and the train slowly moved toward the nearest station at which the wounded could be attended to. The two lads helped themselves to a comfort- able seat in a first-class car, and were not again asked for their tickets. 1t was sufficient that they were survivors of the disaster. “Mighty lively time, that,” remarked Sim, “Tt wasn’t nothin’ shorter,” replied Bill, “But that conductor got cheated out of a chance to dropus, I say, Sim, what a pretty girl it was that we pulled out of the car,’ * Pretty!” exclaimed Sim. ‘She was just lovely. at asweet name, too—Amy Ames!” ‘©-Yes: IT mean to remember that name.” “You may bet your last button that I won't forget it.” ; ““You didn’t make much of a spec, Sim, out of that old man and his sachel.” “The durned skiuflint! Iam sure there was money in that sachel, and he didn’t give us a cent.” sf He said he would give you a fine reward, “Yes, he said so; but the cash down would ha’ suited me better, I mean to remember his No. — North | lace in St. Louis, and we may worry him some fore we’re through with him,” “Tell you what, Sim, [ give in that ’ve been sorter picked up in you. I took you fur greeny at fust; but I guess your head is about as level as a railroad track,’ “T hope it is, Bill. Level heads are what wo need to have about this time.” After various delays the train rolled into the Union Depot at St. Louis at a late hour in tho morning. News of the disaster had preceded it, and newspaper reporters were ready to re- ceive the surviving passeugers. “Say, mister, ain’t you goin’ to interview us?” asked Bill, stepping up to a young man who carried a note-book. ‘Were you on the wrecked train? Give mo your names, then.” Zo: a is Willyum Yards, Esquire, of New ork. “ Mine is Sim Brattle, Esquire, of C’natta.” ** All right,” said the reporter. ** Ain’t you goin’ to interview us, mister?’ de- manded Bill. “T believe I will let you off this time.” ““Go ahead, then, smarty, and buzz the big boys who don’t know nothin’. Say, Sim, what are we ’goin’ to do for breakfuss? I’ve got plenty o’ brass, but not a speck o’ tin.” “You're welcome to what I’ve got, as long as it lasts,” replied Sim. ‘‘ But we don’t have to spend money for fodder jest yit. Come along!” He marched up to a railway official, to whom he told a pitiful tale of the misfortunes and losses of himself and his friend on the wrecked train, and received an order on a neighboring restaurant, where the two Jads breakfasted sumptuously, “Now we will even up,” said Sim, when they could eat no more, and he divided with his friend asmall stock of silver and coppers. “ What are you ’goin’ todo now?” asked Bill. “T mean to take iu this town. and see if I'd care to buy it.” “T feel as if Lowned it a’ready, after that breakfuss, I guess 1 will go down on ’Change and look inter the bluckin’ and paper sellin’ busi- ness.” “I will look around among the airystuckup- racy. Perhaps I may light on some rich old chap who wants to adopt a norfin. Where shall we meet, Bill?’ 3 puses this is as good a place as any. Six o’clock this evenin’.” “Kerect! I wiil consult my cornometer,” “Oh, git out! You put on more airs than a dandy darky ata cake walk,” Sim Brattle did vot take a course that would lead bim to the business portion of the city, but turned toward the south, and soon found him- self in a broad street that was lined with elegant residences, After wandering about in this region until he began to believe tiat he was wasting time and shoe leather, he turned back, He soon perceive:l that he was followed by a man whom he had seen looking at him sharply, and he loitered along, to give this shadow a chance to go by. he man passed him, but turned after going a ee ee a. PSP orgs pew s
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ee few steps, and faced him. Sim then noticed that he was a small, slim, middle-aged man, well dressed, and with a dried-up oe tna age that made him look much older thaa he was. His actions were singular; but it was broad daylight in a public street, and the Jad felt that he need not be afraid of any little, withered old man, “Say, mister,” said Sim, ‘t you lookasif you’d lost somebody. Maybe I’m the party.” ‘Porhaps you are,” replied the man, with a grin that wrinkled up bis withered face. ‘‘ Do hr sane St. reed dink onganano ‘Not yet, anyhow. ve ju m Cnatta.” of gs ‘From where?” “From C’natta. Don’t you know C’natta? Big hog town—the Paris of Ameriky.” ‘Oh, Cincinnati, That isa fine city. Have you any relations or friends here?” **Thain’t got nobody nor nothin’, except one ardner, who came on the train with me, and 6’s a young gen’leman from New York.” The old gentleman rubbed his hands, and puckered up his face with another grin. “So nobody knows you here,” he said. “Ah! that is quite satisfactory. You wonder why I take such an interest in you, my young friend, The truth is that you look remarkably like a boy Lonce knew, who was very near and dear to me. Indeed, you are his exact image, and I could not help looking at you and speaking to you. You will do mea great favorif you will with me to my home, which is not far from fers, and let me present you to my wife, who will be very glad to see you.” » Sim Brattle reflected. He was almost con- vinced that he had found the rich old gentleman who wanted to adopt anorphan. This was just the chance he had been looking for; but the sud- denness of it upset him, and he paused, as he would have said, to let bis head settle. “You need not be afraid of me,” said the old mano. “fam Augustus Ames, well known here, and I live in a fine house of my own on Chou- teau avenne. I have no wish to harm you.” “T ain’t a bit scared,” replied Sim—‘‘ make no mistake about that. Isay, though, mister, you ain’t a philanthrofist, are-you?” «AS Hp ignbveks pol Oh, no; it is as much as I can do to attend to my own business,” ee You're my style, then. Lead on, my noble 6! duk CHAPTER IIL A CROOKED TRANSACTION, Mr. AvGustus Amxs bad spoken the truth about his residence. Hé stopped at an elegant house, led the lad up the high and broad steps, and opened the door with a latch-key. Sim Brattle stared as he entered the spacious hall, and opened his eyes yet wider when he was conducted through a suite of parlors, richly furnished, into a room that was lined with book- cases filled with books in costhy bindings Here he was seated in a cushioned chair, and Mr. Ames requested him to remain a few minutes, until Mes, Ames could be informed of eboney bout me, old gen’leman,” n’t worry a me, old gen’leman,” re- plied Sim; “Tin comferble.” e : Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. 5 Mr. Ames went out, but scon returned, fol- lowed by a lady who seemed to be considerably younger than he, but who was so large and fat that she was a strange contrast to her dried-up little husband. Her hair was black, and her face was very red, and she wore a suit of heavy and showy satin. ‘Julia, my love,” said Mr, Ames, as his wife settled down upon a sofa, ‘this is the boy whom Providence has sent tous, Is he not the exact image of our dear Arthur?” ‘* He is very dirty,” replied the lady, looking at him cone This remark put Sim on his mettle. “I guess you'd be dirty, too,” said he, “if you’d been tumbled down a steep bank, and smashed up in a railroad train like I was last night. The boy that stood on the burning deck wasn’t a patchin’ to that.” ‘““Were you in that fearful disaster?” she asked. . “You just bet your breastpin that I was,” “You are right, Augustus. This boy is aor en like our dear Arthur. I think he will do. *€ Of course he will do,” said Mr. Ames. ‘‘ The resemblance is nearly perfect. He will have to do, anyhow, as it is neck or nothing w.th us now.” Sim Brattle was curious to know what all this meant. “What's the mix?’ he asked, ‘Have I turned out to be anybody’s long lost son? Dol need to find a strawberry mark upon my left arm?” “‘He’s sharp enough, Julia,” said Mr. Ames. Decidedly I think he will do.” ‘You had better explain to the boy what is wanted of him, then,” suggested his wife, “Ts that necessary? I thought we might use him for this purpose without telling any secrets,” “T judge that it will not be worth your while to try any fooling with him.” e “Very well, Julia; I rely upon your judg- ment, ‘What is your name, my young friend?” “Sim Brattle.” “The fact is, Sim, that we want you to take the place of a dear young friend of ours who is absent. He is far away, so far that he cannot get back here in time to be present in some pro- ceedings that must take place to-morrow.” “Son of yours?” asked Sim, jerking a quick glance at the speaker. “Not exactly. The fact is that we aro his guardians—that is, lam his guardian—and we must produce him in court to-morrow—before a referee, I should say—to settle a little matter of business.” “Fur to draw money on hine#” inguired Sim. “Dear me! what a sharp boy! Not exactly to draw money on him, but to settle the amount of the yearly allowance that I am to receive and lay out upon him until he is of ? 2. oe That's all solid,” remarked Sim, and he at once began to wonder how much that allow- ance would be, and how he could make sure that it would all be spent upon him. As Mr. Ames and his wife where whispering together, he began to speculate upon another point— ee
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ae what had become of the boy whose place he was to take? “Ts he far away, that boy?’ he asked, “‘Vory far,” replied Mr. Ames. “Sure he won’t be back soon?” “Oh, 1 am quite sure of that.” “Had any letters from him since he’s been gone?” “None lately.” * “Maybe he’s where they don’t have any post-cflices. It would be a pity if he’s dead.” “That isa point that doesn’t concern you, my young friend,” said Mr. Ames. ‘ You must understand that your appearance in place of our dear Arthur is merely a matter of form.” “Ts it that kind of a deal?” remarked Sim, rising, and picking up his hat. ‘Then I pass out, “What do you mean by that?” asked Mr, Ames, and his yellow face turned yellower. “Tmean to say that I don’t take a bit of stock in mere matters of form. If there ain’t somethin’ solid in thisracket, count me out.” “Oh, you shall be paid for your trouble, and well paid. Sit down, my young friend, and make yourself easy. You will find that the business is solid enough, as far as you are con- cerned. Of course it is confidential. Do you know what confidential means?” “Ya as—I guess it means crooked.” “Tt means nothing of the kind. It means that you must me a still tongue in your head —that you must tell nobody.” “Maybe it comes to the same thing,” sug- gested Sim, Mrs. Ames shook her head, as if to intimate that this boy was too sharp, and might doa little too well. “The first thing to be done,” said Mr. Ames, “is to fit you out with a fine suit of clothes, ‘ and I will take you out directly and buy them for you.” r “Sim’s eyes sparkled. There was something “solid” in a suit of clothes, : “That ain’t the fust thing though,” he said, “ What is the first, then?” “T’m hungry.” “Of course you shall have your dinner, and a bath too, as you need one badly, and we have no time to lose.” : Sim Brattle bathed luxuriously, and dined pce: When he had eaten as much as he could hold, he mentally resolved that the place in which he found himself was a good place, and that if he was as sbarp as he supposed him- self to be, he would stay there. “T am just in the right fix now, mister, to fit into a suitof new clothes,” ho said. “Come with me, then, and you shall soon be fitted. Remember that your name is now AT Nob yen, mister,” replied 8 ot yet, m ‘i i ‘im. “ Why so” Siig “ When I git inside of Arthur Ames’s clothes, I will he Arthur Ames. As long as I am wear- ing Sim Brattle’s clothes, will be Sim Brattle.” Mr. Ames looked at the lad as if he was dis- ° posed to doubt, as his wife had, whether this might not prove to be a little too sharp. ut Sim was taken to a clothing store, where he was fitted with a complete suit, ready made, but quite stylish, and it seemed to him that there was but one thing needed to make him a first class young gentleman, **I would be all right now,” be said, “if I had some money to jingle.in my pocket.” Mr, Ames gave him some silver change, and said that it was time to go home. | ‘Pve got a little bit of business to attend to first,” he said. ‘‘I promised to meet a friend of mine at the Union Depot at six e’clock.” “What friend?’ asked Mr. Ames, looking at him suspiciously, ‘You told me that you had no friends here.” “Only my pardner, Bill Yards, who was on the train with me last night.” “T don’t see that you need to meet him now.” ‘But I promised to, and I can’t go back on my promise.” “Ah! Well, Arthur, I am glad to see that ‘ou are inclined to keep your promises, and I ope you will always keep them. Go and see | your friend, but make a quick job of it, and be sure that you say not a word about me or the | matters we have talked of.” “Allright, sir. I’m fly. Anybody who tries to catch Artbur Ames for a sucker, will be likely to lose a hook,” Bill Yards, returning to the Union Depot at six o’clock, with a bootblack’s out{it hanging on his arm, saw nothing of bis friend Sim. But he did see a stylish young fellow sauntering about there, wearing a new suit of clothes that did not seem to have become entirely familiar with hisform. ~ “There’s a young swell, now,” said Bill, ‘who is puttin’ on more airs than a tree-toad in a cherry orchard, and I mean to tackle him for a shine. Bet he'll be fool enough to gimmea dime.” “Shine, sir? Shine ’em up? See your face ix ’em for ten cents.” : , The young swell turned on his heel contempt- bah “There is ten cents for you,” he said, throw- ing down acoin. ‘ Now go and start a bank!” Bill Yards dropped his box, and stared, with his mouth and eyes wide open, at the liberal youth, ‘ Thunderation!” was all he could say, For once his tongue was not equal to the task ef expressing his sentiments. ‘What’s the matter, bub?” asked the young upstart, “May I be copper-distilled if I don’t believe I’m crazy! Can my ears believe my eyesight? Has the comet throwed everything into ever- ' lastin’ smash, or is this Sim Brattle?” “‘Didn’t you really know me, Bill?” inquired im, “‘Durned if I did, and I ain’t so bu’stin’ sure that I know you now.” “Then I’m all right, and will pass in any crowd. Ain’t this.a killin’ rig, Bill?’ ‘Killin’? I should blush to remark. It’s , nothin’ short of murder in the first degree, with malice aforesaid. What have you been steppin’ into, anyhow? Found a gold mine, or j’ined a whisky ring?’ | “Told you, Bill, that I was goin’ to try to
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light on some rich old gen’leman who wanted to adopt a norfin. Well, I struck him.” rattled. I ain’t nothin’ but a street epee sca’cely fit to black boots for sech smart speki- lators as you. How did you doit? Gimme the tip. What sort of a racket are you on, any- how?” “That’s a mystery,” solemnly replied Sim. “T can’t tell you now. I’ve got to keep mum for awhile. This is important business, you seo, Private and confidential. But I’m on the right track, and mean to stick to it. When I git settled down, and can see my way ahead a little furder, you may bet that your pardner won’t go back on you. uP ped seen the way I fixed up things to-day, Bill, and had heard me chin around among the airystuckupracy, you’d ha’ said that Sim Brattle’s head is as level as a railroad track. I’ve got to keep it level, too, or somethin’ will smash.” ‘To think that I'd almost picked you up for a greeny!” exclaimed Bill, regarding his friend with adrriration. ‘‘ You’re a regular tiptopper. and no mistake. When Barnum wants to git hold of a great moral phenomenon, I mean to tell him to come out here and ketch Sim Brattle.” * All right, Bill; but you mustn’t call me by that name afore folks, I have bad a new chris- tenin’, and have got a new name.” “Who are you now?” ** Ames is my name—Arthur Ames, Esquire.” “ Any relation to Amy Ames?” Not that I know of. Wish I was.” “‘That reminds me,” said Bill, “‘I saw that gal to-day.” : ‘You saw Amy? Was her mother with her? Did you go to her house?” “I met her on the street. You oughter know that her mother can’t git out o’ the house. She asked after you, I am goin’ to see ’em to- morrer,” “T wish I could go,” said Sim, looking at his new suit and thinking what a fine figure he was for a visit. ‘ But Ican’t go to-morrow.” . “Plenty of time, I say, Sim, I am goin’ to pant, up that old chap whose sachel you found, “T wish you would wait until I can go with ou. : ‘*Guess I'd better make a strike when you can’t go. Mebbe he’s another rich old gen’le- man who wants to adopt a norfin, and I mus’n’t Ris Say chances. When will I see you ag’in, im “Right here, to-morrow evenin’ at six, and every evenin’ at six, until Ican invite you to my palatual residence; and now I must light out for that sweet spot right away, without stop in’ to play marbles on the road.” ‘So long, Sim, and keep your head level.” | “Tl try, and will be here to-morrow evenin’ at six, sure,” CHAPTER IV. BILL YARDS BECOMES AMBITIOUS. Brut Yarns was full of admiration for his friend and ally. Nothing tad, evor struck him as so wonderful as this—that a boy of fifteen should come to such a city as St. Louis, a stranger, friendless, penniless, and nearly ragged, and in less than a day should be “splurging” around, dressed up ‘‘to the nines,” with money in his pocket, and claiming as his home a “ palatual residence on Chouteau avenue! It was a miracle—it was a fairy tale—it was a revised edition of Aladdin and the lamp! How had he done it? What sort of a streak of luck had he struck? Were there any more such openings in St. Louis? Had he really boen adopted by some rich man, or was he running on a track that would speedily bring him to the State prison? : Bill kept worrying his head with this problem through the night, in the cheap lodging-house where he had taken a bed, and awoke in the morning determined to “ make a strike” and to ee or force a way to fortune as his friend had one, As he told Sim Brattle, he had met Amy Ames the day before. He had recognized her at once as the girl whom he and his friend had saved from the wrecked and burning car, but she, who had had but a brief glimpse of him in the darkness, did not know him at first. Bill was not too bashful to recall himself to her ac- quaintance, and she greeted him joyfully. “‘Tam so glad to seo you,” she said, “‘I was afraid that we might never run across you again, | though you had saved our lives, Where is your friend, Sim Brattle?” Bill Yards could only answer that Sim was — somewhere in St, Louis. ‘*Do bring bim up to our house. i Poor ma is Atal laid up with her broken ankle; but she will‘be™ ever so glad tosee you both, and I know she — wants to thank you, and perhaps we can do something to help you, for I do believe that you are even poorer than we are. Here is our street and number—see, I put it on this card—and you must be sure to come, and when shall we look for you?” ‘To-morrow morning,” replied Bill, glad of a chance to put a word in, ‘Don’t fail to come, then, or we shall be awfully disappointed, and tell your friend that we want to see him ever so much,” When Bill started out in the mornin, the way to fortune, he left his box of eae tools at the lodging-house, for fear that it migh re stand in the way of his immediate adoption by some solid citizen. - a0 But he was willing to postpone his ambitious schemes until he could make the promised call to find — on Mrs, Ames and her daughter, and toward the address that had been given bim he first turned his steps. © ae He found them living in asmall butneat house in the northern part of the city, and was warmly able to move,” said — | welcomed by Amy, who took him intoapleasant — ro°m where her mother was lying on a lounge, ' with her ankle in splints. ; ' “You find me scarcely Ma
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8 you and told me that you were both coming here this morning.” Bill hardly knew what to say about his friend, for fear that he would say too much; but he ex- lained that Sim was kept away by “ important usiness,” and that he had “struck a lucky streak.” “Tam so sorry!” exclaimed Amy. ‘That is Tam awfully glad if heislucky, but so sorry that he could notcome. This very day, too, when my brother Dick has just come home from Colorado —Santa Clara, in Colorado—do you know Santa Clara?—it is a new place where they dig gold, and everybody gets,rich all of a sudden, and we are hoping that Dick will get rich, and we have told him all about you and your friend, and he is awfully anxious to see you both,” * How you dorun on, Amy!” said her mother, ‘Suppose you run tothe door. I heard the bell, and perhaps that is Dick himself.” So it was, and he proved to be a fine young man of twenty or twenty-one, tall for his age, handsome enough to be Amy’s brother, with sun-browned cheeks and such an appearance of health and strength as made Bill Yards de- light to look upon him, ichard Ames at once put the street lad at his ease, made him feel at home, and in a short time had drawn out his entire history, in- cluding his present condition and his immediate desires, “T am thinkin’,” said Sim, “of lookin’ about to find some rich old gen’leman who wants to adopt a norfin, as Sim Brattle got adopted yesterday.” " “ Has he really been adopted?” asked Richard mes. ‘*Guess you’d think so, if you should see his rig. . Why, he is togged out in as big style as the lilies of the valley that Scripter tells about.” “That is really astonishing. I can’t pretend to understand it. But we will know all about it, I suppose, when we see him. Well, Master Bill, I am neither an old man nor a rich one, and it is too early for me to begin to adopt orphans; but my mother and sister want to do something for you, to prove that they are grateful; and so, if you will take a walk with me, we will find a clothing store, and see what sort of a suit can be got for you.” There was norefusing this good-natured offer. Tf Bill had wanted to refuse it, his kind friends would not have allowed him to think of such a thing. So he went out with Richard Ames, and soon his appearance was transformed as nothing but a change from rags to new and nice clothing can transform a person. As he admired himself in a glass, it occurred to him that he had at least taken one step up the ladder which Sim Brattle had mounted—he was well dressed. It also occurred to him that it would never do for the possessor of such a suit to descend to blacking boots or selling papers, Good clothes are a powerful stimulus to ambition. As he had gota start, he could not stop, bub must go on and up. ‘rhen he must go with Nicnara Ames to the house again, and show the suit to the ladies, and then he must stay todinner, which had been kept back for him and Dick. ‘4 the time dinner was over he had got into a fidget thinking over the golden moments he was losing, and the splendid chances he was missing. If he was to step into a fortune such as Sim’s, before six o’clock in the evening, he must hurry and find it. So he hastened away after promising to re- turn soon, and went in search of Cornelius Corum, the old man with the heavy sacbel. It was not easy to find the address which he had preserved in his memory, among the rook- eries of that part of North Second street to which he had been directed, some of which seemed to have existed since the time when St. Louis was a French settlement. But he finally found the name of ‘‘C. Corum, Agent,” on a little old tin sign at the door of an old buildin which had a brick wall for the ground floor an tumble-down frame for the upper story. There was nothing to show that C. Corum was agent of or for anything in particular, and no sign of any sort of business in the dirt-cov- ered windows, and Bill Yards shook his head sadly as he thought that this rookery was far dif- ferent from the “ palatual residence ” of which Sim had boasted. He knocked boldly at the door, which was opened after some delay by a very ugly negro girl, and was admitted into the dark in- terior. When his eyes had become accustomed to the dim light, he looked around, and perceived that he was ina square room, low-ceilinged, dingy, dirty and without the least sign of wealth or luxury, There was no carpet on the floor, and the only furniture was an old desk, a battered bureau, a stand of pigeon-holes, a rusty safs, and a few worn and clumsy chairs, A closer look showed him one piece of com- fortable furniture—a cushioned arm-chair, roomy and well-padded, in which was seated an old man with a short, thick body and very slim legs. He had a square face, a low forehead, small eyes and rusty gray hair and beard. The lad at once recognized him as the man who had lost the sachel, and was not at all pleased with his appearance. ‘* What do you want, now?” sharply demand- ed the old man, ‘Out with it, and be quick, for time is valuable. If you have come from Owings, you may go right back and tell him that he can have no more money until he pays that last note—not a cent.” Bill Yards had helped himself to a chair, and did not seem to be in re | sort of a hurry. “T thought you might know me,” he said, “Do you remember losin’ a sachel full of mone night afore last, when the train was smashed?’ There was no money in that sachel,” sharp- ly replied Mr. Corum. ‘* How can you say that there was money in it? I never carry anything valuable, and never have anything valuable to arts 8 ‘*You said you would give a reward to the fellers that found it,” suggested Bill. “Are you one of those boys? Yes, J know you now, though you have come out in gay
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Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. 9 colors, like the flowersin Spring. He, he! But ou are not the boy who found the sachel. here is he?” _ fn He couldn’t come with mo to-day,” replied him, if you expect to get to give something, and I will think of it. Yes, I will think of it before ou come again, But you must bring the other yy, as he found the sachel. You may go now.” But Bill Yards was not ready to go. If there was a fortune to be stepped into, it would never do to walk backward, and he returned to the attack, “The other boy has struck it lucky,” he said. **He has been adopted by a rich old gentleman who livesina palatual residence on Chouteau Avenue, and the flowers in spring can’t hold a candle to his style.” The old man looked at the lad with an in- credulous sneer, as if to say ‘‘ What are you giving me?’ “Tt’s a fact, mister. He has come out like a rainbow after a shower. So I thought I had better look over the town for some rich old gen’- leman who wants to adopta norfin, and I came here to me you the fust chance.” Mr. Corum leaned back in his chair, and stared at the lad for some minutes without “You must as anything. I offer « Mereiful heavens!” he exclaimed at last. “Has the boy gone crazy? Who ever heard of such a thing? Do I look like a rich old gentle- man? Does this poor hovel of mine look like a rich man’s residence?” ‘Tt won’t allus do to bet high on looks,” re- plied Bill, ‘*Merey on us! What a world is this! You have come to the wrong shop, my lad. I do not wish to adopt an orphan. 1 would as soon think of adopting a rattlesnake or a wildcat. I have a son, I am sorry to say, who is the tor- ment of my life, and who is always annoying me by asking for money. though I tae scarce- Sd enough to keep a roof over my own head, ut I have sent him off to Colorado, where } hope he will stay, and you may go off now, and—you need not trouble yourself to come back. Bill Yards, dropped his head. This did not look a bit like stepping into a fortune. How had Sim Brattle done it? What was the secret of his success? Why had not that youn aris- tocrat told his end how to “work the racket?” The ugly negro girl came into the room by some unperceived entrance, and whispered to the old man, who turned pale, trembled, and looked anxiously about. “He here!” he exclaimed. ‘Birch Corum come back! Are you sure of that, Rose?” ‘*Yes, sah. I see’d him a while ago, walkin’ on t’other side of the street, and lookin’ at the house. The sidewalk wasn’t nigh wide enough for him.” ‘* Mercy on us! This is terrible, What shall Ido? I must lock up everything. I will apply to the police. No, that would never do.” His eyes rested on Bill Yards, and a sudden thought seemed to strike him. friend!” he said, “T am lad you came, ou area fine lad, and I would file to do something for you. I can’t adopt ou; but I can give you a good supper and a feeates for the night. How would you like to sleep with me to-night?” “T ain’t fond o’ sleepin’ with old folks,” bluntly replied Bill. “Oh, I don’t ask you to sleop with me, but in the house, You shall have a bed to yourself, and a good one, Will you stay?” “ All right; but I’ve got to be at the Union Depot at six o’clock, to meet my pardner, Sim Brattle.” *Oan’t you put that off?” “Not for no money.” “Boe ina hurry, then. It isnearly six o'clock now, and I want you to come back as soon as you possibly can.” The lad promised to do so, and the door was locked and barred behind him, “Tf I had as level a head as Sim Brattle has got, I would make a strike out o’ this,” ho muttered, as he walked away. CHAPTER V. MIXED FAMILY MATTERS. Art the Union Depot Bill Yards failed to find his friend Sim Brattle, alias Arthur Ames, He looked all about the neighborhood, and made inquiries of various persons; but nobody had seen such a young gentleman as he described, and he was surely not visible to Bill’s sharp e “Ah, My youn yes. After waiting as long as he thought he could afford to, the lad went back to keep his appoint- ment with Cornelius Corum. He was grieved because he had not been able to show new suit, and troubled because his friend had failed to come to meet him. What was the matter? Something unusual must have happened to keep Sim away. Had he climbed the ladder of fortune to such a hight that he could no longer look back on his friend? Or had he—and this was the thought that Bill Yards really worried over—got into a scrape from which even his level head could not extricate him? At the Corum house Bill was admitted by the ugly negro girl after the usual delay, and there aa: found another visitor making himself at ome, He at once jumped to the conclusion that this visitor was the son of whom the old man hai spoken—Birch Corum, who had unexpectedly returned from Colorado, He was led to this conclusion by the appear- ance of the visitor, who looked like the copy of the old man, except that his lower limbs were not small and shrunken, He was roughl dressed, and his skin was very dark, and his hairand beard were uncombed, and his small eyes were red, and he had the appeerne’ as Bil Yards thought, of a man who had been on a ‘reg’lar jamboree.” ‘This is a young friend of mine, Birch,” said Mr. Corum when the lad entered the room—“‘a young friend who has done me some small favors, and I want to be kind to him,” “Glad to see that you can be kind to some- body,” replied the young man, without giving im his °
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sick of it. You can’t fool me. 10 Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head, Bill a second glance. ‘I think you ought to begin by being kind to me. Here am I, your only son, who have been far away, and have come back dead broke, and only ask for enough to take me out to Colorado again. killing the fatted calf for me, you want to give me nothing but the cold shoulder.” ‘How have you got rid of all you had, Birch? I gave you a fine outfit, and it cost a great deal of moner ” “ A thimbleful to a thirsty man. I came on here with some cattle, and went around with the boys, and bucked against the keno men, who ought to be shot for playing a rascally, swindling game. The long and short of it is that I am flat broke, and I want money enough to take me back to Santa Clara.” “You are pumping at a dry well, Birch,” said the old man. ‘‘ Money is very scarce, I[ have pee enough to keep body and soul to- gether. My little rents come in very slowly, and taxes and repairs and assessments are some- thing terrible.” “That be blowed! I have heard the same sort of chin-music from you so often that 1 am I know you have plenty, and I want a little for my share. ‘You had better ne it to me, too, without any fuss, or you will be likely to regret it. If I should turn my tongue loose, I might worry you some.” ** How much will you need?” **T shall want a thousand dollars.” “ A thousand dollars! Merciful Heavens! Is there so much money as that in the world? I might raise a hundred dollars by borrowing— cee thousand! Do you take me for a million- “T take you for just what you are, and I shall expect the money to-morrow.” ‘Perhaps I can raise five hundred, Birch, by putting a mortgage on a bit of land I have left; it it will ruin me.” y *T know just how much it will ruin you. I tell you that I want a thousand dollars, and I will call here at noon to-morrow to get it. Give me five dollars now, and I will not trouble you until then.” The old man hunted in his pockets urtil he found a crumpled bill, which he had probably placed there in expectation of just such a do- mand. He gave this to his son, who left the house without another word, and the door was locked and barred behind him. “That is a very bad young man,” said Mr. Corum, when he resumed his seat. “It is awtully wicked in him to oe to force money from such a poor and broken down old man as Iam. But I must try to get a little for him, if I have to sell everything, and send him back to Colorado. I see by the papers that they are expecting an Indian war to break out there, and that is something to look forward to. Now, my young friend, we will have our supper and go to bed.” After seeing that hes pe Pesan on the ground floor was locked, bolted, barred, and otherwise made secure, the old man knocked on the ceil- a A, trap door was opened, a ladder was let and Mr. Corum mounted it, followed by a Instead of | Bill Yards. The Jadder was then drawn up, and the trap was closed. The lad was struck dumb with astonishment at finding himself in a brilliantly lighted and elegantly furnished room, which seemed to geenny the entire space of the second floor of the old rookery. Such an establishment was the last thing he would have expected to find in that quarter. The walls were bung with rich and costly materials, the carpet was the heaviest velvet pile, a finely carved bedstead oceupied a corner, and the room was fairly crowded with elegant furniture, paintings, statuettes and other articles of ornament. Bill Yards had never seen such a profusion of luxu- rious fittings. “‘These are some things that I have taken on storage,” said the old man. ** The owner thought they would be safer here, and he is kind enough to let me use them.” Bill did not credit a word of this, and was in- clined to believe that Birch Corum had placed a pretty fair estimate on his father’s wealth. But he did not give words to his Goubt, and prepared to enjoy the comforts and luxuries of a “ palatual residence.” The supper, which was broughy in by the ugly black girl from some locality which the lad could not even guess at, was very fine, and was served on an elegant table, loaded with handsome dishes and costly silver. Bill Yards opened his eyes in wonder, but did not fail to eat as if he might not get another square mea) for a month, When this meal was over, Mr. Corum lighted a meerschaum pipe, and smoked in silence. Bill Yards was also silent. He was wonder- ing why he had been brought up there to pass the night, and he wished that his level-headed friend, Sim Brattle, was there to look the mat- ter through and ‘give him the tip.” He was soon to be enlightened as to the pur. pose of his presence. Mr. Corum, when he had finished his smoke, brought out a revolver. ‘Can you fire a pistol?’ he asked. ‘“‘T guess I can, as well as the next man,” re- plied Bill. “You are to take this revolver, then, and have it within reach when you lie down, If anybody should try to break into the house, shoot him.” * “On the spot,” added Bill. “Wherever you may happen to see him.” The lad began to see through the hole in the mill-stone. Mr. Corum was expecting a mid- night visitation from his scapegrace of a son. “SYposin’ it should be that young man who was here this evenin’,” suggested Bill, “That was my son,” replied Mr. Corum. \I cannot believe that he would be guilty of an at- tempt to rob bis poor old father. But he is a very wicked young man, and the wicked are apt to come to untimely ends.” A bed was made on the floor for the lad, and he noticed that it was placed exactly over the trap door. But that did not alarm him in the least, and he lay down as soon as he was al- lowed to, and slept the sleep that usually goeg | | Loe Sie
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Smart Sim, ‘ho Lad with the Level Head. il with youth, health, a clear conscience, and a supper. ; That is to say, he ‘slept very soundly. Noth- ing disturbed his slumber, and when he awoke in the morning he found the unused revolver lying where he had left it. Cornelius Corum did not seem to be greatly relieved by the fact that he had passed a quiet night. Indeed, it might be supposed that he was disappointed because nobody had attempted to break into the house. “T am afraid,” he said, “that my unfortunate son must have got very drunk last night.” Bill Yards was given a good breakfast, and was taken down-stairs and dismissed, “How much do you pay your night watch- man, mister?” he asked. The old man squeezed a dollar out of his breeches pocket, and gave it to the lad, making him promise to return there in the afternoon, if convenient, and in the evening as a matter of certainty. “There must be some sort of a fortune in this,” muttered Bill, as he walked away; “ but I can’t seem to get the hang of it. 1f Sim Brat- tle was here, he could put me right onto it; a I can’t see my way clear to take hold of t. He went directly to Mrs. Ames’s house, where he found Dick and his mother engaged in a ane of family affairs; to which he lis- tened. **- You have not told me all tho news yet, mo- ther,” said the young man. “The most impor- tant point isto come. How is uncle Augustus getting on?” ‘“You know that we never see him, my son. He never comes near us, and we are not dis- sed to force ourselves upon him. I hear that © is living in fine style, and you may guess whose money it is that keeps him up.” “‘ Has my cousin Arthur been heard of?” “Yes, at last. I have not much money for lawyers, but have engaged Mr. Brenner to keep the run of things for us. He tells me that there was what he calls a reference yesterday, and thaf your uncle Augustus appeared before the referee with your cousin Arthur, and that a large allowance was fixed upon, to be continued until he comes of a I don’t wish to be un- charitable, but it is clear to me that your uncle Augustus will get the benefit of it.” ‘*You are never uncharitable, mother. You are only rest the plain truth, Where had Arthur been all the while?’ : * At school in Cincinnati.” ; = had almost begun to believe that he was ead. “So had I,” said Mrs. Amos, ~ “It is very strange. I can’t see why they should send him off to Cineinnati, or what mo- tive they could have had in keeping him hid, unless t °y supposed we would want to murder him. If he should die, the property would come to us, would it not?” “*Yes—t¢ you and Amy, under his father’s Your uncle Augustus is only the ex- ote it ta large rty?” sit nota property ¢ Yes; your uncle Arthur left a very valuable ** It seems to me that there is something mys- terious and crooked in the business. But we won’t worry about it, mother. It isl waiting for dead men’s shoes, anyhow, and we are talk- ing about matters that our friend Bill does not understand. You must pardon us, Bill, and tell us now why you did not bring your friend here this morning.” Bill Yards shook his head sadly. “T don’t know what’s become of him,” he said. ‘I told you that he had been adopted as a norfin by a rich old gen’leman, and was dressed up as gay as a stock broker. He prom- ised to meet me at the Union Depot youtentey evenin’ at six, and every evenin’ at six, and went there; but he didn’t turn up.” “Perhaps his new people would not let him come,” suggested Amy. ““Mebbe so, I’m keen to bet he would have come if he hadn’t been held, and I’m worried about him.” **- You must go to the depot again this even- ing,” said Dick. ‘*If you don’t find hitn then, we must see what can be done toward looking him up.” The lad stayed to dinner at Mrs, Ames’s, Ho was indeed faring sumptuously. Then he de- cided that he would Corum’s, by the way of passing the time. As he went, he found that his head was in a tangle, “‘There’s a mixed lot of Ames folks about here somehow,” he muttered, ‘ Dick Ames has got a cousin Arthur, and I guess his names must 33 Ames, too, He has been missin’, and has jist turned up. Sim Brattle’s name is Arthur Ames now, and that’s a queer mix of things. I wish I could git itstraigbt. If Sim was here now, he would put_bis level head onto it, and take the twist out of the tangle in no time.” Yes—Sim could have done that very thing, CHAPTER VI. “T MEAN TO STICK.” As a matter of fact, Sim Brattle was not then in a position to_take the twist out of bis own tangles, and Bill Yards was correct in guessing — that his friend hed been kept away from the place of meeting by force, After leaving Dill he had. returned to the ~ palatual residence” on Chouteauavenue,where he was feasted and spoken to as “‘ Arthur.” His treatment at tho house of Au pressed him so favorably that he was strength. ened in his determination to stay there. Mr. end coaching” him for the part he was to play the next day, and they prove a success. His task, indeed, was an easy one, His face go back to Cornelius stus Ames im- | Mrs. Ames devoted the evening to — found him such an apt scholar that they were sure their plan would | would identify him, and it would only be ne-— cessary to answer afew questions concerning Cincinnati, and there would be no difficulty _ about that, as he knew that city well. ; He knew that there was something ‘‘ crooked” in the transaction, and given him; but a night’s rest in a luxurious bed reakfast which ‘ got him for all he was and a b a worth,” had much to do with silencing those. Xe had some scruples of — conscience about playing the part that was
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EX Y sd y ig br d os ' * aie 4 i o - The lad mentally deciared that he did not that there was a d _ of the sort as long as was in no hurry, however, and was content to| am not afraid of havin; _ bold bis tongue and await developments. 12. that he would stick. In the morning he was taken to a lawyer’s office in the central part of the city, where a quiet little party was arranged for the occasion, eomposed of the lawyer whose office it was— who was a refereo appointed by the Probate Court—Mr. and Mrs. Ames, Sim Brattle—alias | Arthur Ames—Mr, Ames’s lawyer, who had | everything to say, and another lawyer, who had nothing to say. When Sim was introduced to the referee as Arthur Ames, that gentleman shook hands with him, and congratulated him upon his stout and healthy appearance. “Tt is a long time since I have seen you, my young friend,” he said, ‘‘More than two “pela I believe. 1t was shortly after your fa- ther’s death when you came before me last. But “es have not changed much, except that you have grown taller and heartier.” ‘The. referee then put a few questions to the ud, for which he had been duly prepared, and which he answered quite readily. Mr. Ames said that he bad sent Arthur away from St. Louis for the sake of his health, and the result showed that he had acted wisely. He intended to enter him at a college in Massachu- setts, and asked an allowance from his father’s estate for his ee until he sbould come of He was of the opinion that $3,000 a year ‘would be a pre r allowance. ‘*Té sounds like alarge sum for a boy,” said the referee; ‘‘but he is growing older every day. Considering his station in life, and the fortune that be willinherit it does not seem to _ betoolargeasum. Have you anything to say in the matter, Mr. Brennan?” _ The silent lawyer replied that he had nothin _ to say, as he was merely a looker on, and ha | no interest that would justify him in interfer. ing. & Then I will report in favor of an allowance of $3,000 a year, to be a to Mr. Augustus Ames, who can apply to the Probate Court next month for a decree confirming the report, and that will end the matter until the young gentle- man is twenty-one.” "This closed the proceeding, and Sim returned with his new friends to their house on Chou- teau avenue. At dinner Mr. and Mrs, Ames complimented each other upon the success of their strategy; but Sim noticed that they did not compliment him. He also noticed that they had ceased ad- _ dressing him as Arthur, “By the way, my young friend,” said Mr. Ames, ‘‘ what did you say your name is?” “Tt was Sim Brattle,” replied the lad. “It I remember it now. is Arthur Ames now.” “Yes, Sim Brattle. ‘Well, oO Ot have done very well to-day, - and you shall not lose anything by this.” mean to lose sessing by it. Itseemed to him position to ‘count him out,” to “shut down on him,” and to “let him - slide;” but he did not revue toallow apy ching. head was level. He ee TS Se Se ae a8 in ge | shall give you some money. Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. scruples, and he was more than ever determined | He did not have to wait long. He was taken into the room where he first met his two em- ployers, and Mr. Ames broughi up the subject of his fature movements, “Now, Sim Brattle,” said that gentleman, ‘I me ae you will be glad to go back to Cincin- na ti “T hadn’t thought of it,” briefly replied Sim. “ But it will be best for you to go there or somewhere else, and I shall want you to do so. You have a fine suit of clothes, and of course I So you will be able to go where you please, and that will be very nice for you.” **T am well enough off where I am,” said Sim. ‘* But you have sense enough to know that I cannot allow you to stay in St. Louis, as some- thing might happen here that would make trou- ble. Iam through with you now, and I shall yay you cff and send you away. Let me see— f think that twenty-five dollars wouki be a nice present for you. What do you say to that?” “ Pve been figurin’,” replied Sim, looking very solemn,” “What have you been figuring at?” ““ At $3,000 a year. As I figure it, that comes to $250 a month, or $75 and some cents a week. I hain’t been in school at C’natta for nothin’, messes don’t care how I take it, so’s I git it reg’- * iss A co Ames looked at his wife, and his wife looked at him, His face expressed nothing but astonishment; but there was a smile on hers that might mean mischief. “What do you mean?’ he asked, ‘ What have agi to do with $3,000?” “That’s my allowance—the figure fixed by yor and that lawyer for my support and eddi- cat on, as I heard you both say. That’s what I wi at—no more, and no less.” Augustus Ames fell back in his chair, and amazement and horror were written in every wrinkle of his yellow countenance, “This is too much!” he exclaimed, ‘“ Do you really fancy that the $3,000 a year we speke of is to go to you ?” “« Who would it go to, then?” inquired Sim. *¢To the real Arthur Ames, of course.” ‘Where is he?” “ He is absent from the city just now, but he will return.” : “TI guess he won't. You may think I am easy to fool, mister, but I guess you have got the wrong pig by the ear. There ain’t no such a feller!” : “What has become of him, then?” “ He is dead!” Mr. Ames was worse than astonished—he was bewildered. If a mule had kicked him he could hardly have been more demoralized. He looked to his wife for help, but she sat there with that amused smile on her face and said nothing After twisting about in his chair for awhile, he gathered himself together and changed bis style of attack. “T amsorry, my young friend,” he said, ‘that you have got such a wrong idea into your head, and that you are so willful and stubborn, I don’t want to have any trouble with you—though I i a gs 1 do want to treat you kindly and liberally. How much shal a
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eee ee Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. I pay you, on P iad promise to leave St. Louis and stay away “Send me off to college,” replied Sim, ‘‘ and meee my reg’lar allowance, and I'll be satis- ‘Will nothing less than that satisfy you?” ** No, sir-ee!” i “Then I will tell you what I will do, I will take that suit of clothes from you, and send you away with nothing at all.” “'T guess you won’t, mister.” “Why won't I?” “ Because I would go right out in town, and hunt up that lawyer, and tell him somethin’ that would make him open his eyes.” “He would never listen to you,” said Mr, Ames, triumphantly. “T ain’t sure that he would, from the squint I took at him to-day. But there’s more lawyers in St. Louis than one, I guess.” “Do you know what you would do, you fool- ish boy? You would talk yourself right into the penitentiary.” “T hain’t read about whisky rings for nothin’, mister, 1 know what they do with the fellers who peach. It wouldn’t be me who would git locked up, but some bigger and older folks.” Augustus Ames had reached the limit of his patience, and he flew into a passion. “You infernal young rascal!” he exclaimed, as he jumped 4 But his wife laid her hand on his arm. He looked at her, and saw that same calm smile on her fat face, and knew that she had come to his rescue. He resumed his seat, and was quiet, Sim Brattle also saw that smile, and braced himself up, expecting nothing less than a severe tongue-lashing. Greatly to his surprise, and still more to the pel pee! of her husband, she spoke pleasantly and kindly, and took Sim’s side at once, “The boy is right,” she said. “Right?” screamed Mr, Ames. “Of course he is right, aud you ought to have sense enough to see that he is. As he appeared as Arthur Ames to-day, he must continue to be Arthur Ames and keep his place, at least until our dear Arthur returns. If Arthur should not return, my dear—” ; se hed love.” ir thur should not return, I say, who could fill his place better than this bright and bandsome who resembles him so closely?” Mr. Ames said nothing. He could not guess ~what his wife was aiming at, and thought it best to take refuge in silence. “ < we will send him to college,” she con- tinued, ‘“‘and he shall have his allowance, though I think we onant not to give him the whole of it just yet. But that can be easily arranged, and I will get him an outfit and send him off as soon as he is ready to go.” Sim Brattle’s face was bright enough then, The affair had turned out even better than he could have expected, and he praised himself for the firmness with which he had kept to the course he had marked out, ‘* Bill Yards was right when he told me I had a level head,” he thought, “ and he would swear to it if he knew how | have worked this racket. i Everythin’ is lovely now, and if they should try any shenanigin after I git away, I will onl have to pull the lawyer on them, and that will make them crawl.” “Does that suit you, Arthur?’ asked Mrs, Ames, with a beaming smile. q “ That’s all 1 want, ma’am,” replied Sim, “I j have got into the family, you sce, and I mean to stick.” “You are quite right todoso. What do you want, Augustus, my dear?” ' Mr. Ames beckoned to his wifo, who followed him out of theroom into the frontparlor,whera | he paces the floor in a high state of excite- ment. “What do you mean?” he demanded. ‘Itis impossible that we should do what you propose ; todo. What are you driving at?” 4 “You silly man!” replied his wife. You should keep your i open and have your wits about you. That boy is dangerous—very dan- gerous—and his tongue would ruin us, We wanted a smart boy, and have found ong who isa great deal too smart. As he will not keep uiet willingly, he must be forced todoso, In short, he must be put where be can do us no harm.” ; “You are right, my love, as you always CHAPTER VII. TRICKED AND TRAPPED, WHEN Mrs. Ames came back into the li with ter husband, her face fairly glistened wit! good humor, ha. “Mr. Ames has been begging my pardon | because he had disagreed with me,” said she. “He now says that I ought to get your outfit atonce. Butitis really too latein thedayto go shopping.” oot “That’s a fact,” said Sim, “If you please, | ma’am, it is just about the right time for me to — a goto the Union Depot. I pepniees to meet my pardner there at six o’clock.” “The person you went to meet yesterday evening?” she asked. “Yes, ma’am.” “TI wish you would put it off untilto-mor- row. He will not feel uneasy if he misses you — this evening. I will go out wiih you to-mor- row, and then you shall have a fine gold watch to show him.” é The mention of a gold watch turned the scale, — and Sim reluctantly consented to reinain and let his friend wait until another evening. Yet — 1 began to have a shadow of suspicion that all — was not right. He fancied that Ames was a little too kind and cheerful. ty Sim Brattle did not leave the house, but Augustus Ames did. He did not saps at the a ' table, and it was nearly nine o’clock when he returned. He had a little private conversation with his entered the room in which g: Sim ested that it was rather late for that; — bud she assured him that she never cared to see
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14 Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. a play until the first act was over, and he | bage patch. Thero’s only one thing left for me glad iv consented to go with her, as a gold watch and an evening at a theater were enough So disturb the level of any young fellow’s head. ““When our friends see him with me at the theater,” she said, addressing her husband, “they will know that ‘Arthor Hai come home, and that we have nothing to conceal.” A carriage was waiting at the door, which they entered, and Sim Brattle felt that he had fairly begun a life of luxury. He wished that Bill Yards could be there to see him. It was a long distance to that theater. The carriage was driven rapidly, and time was posing, and block after block was left behind; ut Sim saw nothing that looked like a theater. Te was beginning to get uneasy. noticed this, and quieted him. “Tam in no hurry to get to the theater,” she said, ‘Sand am going a little out of the way to eall on a sick person. It will take only a few minutes, and it is but a block or so from the theater. Weare nearly there now.” Soon the carriage stopped at a small two- story brick house that stood alone, out at the edge of the city. The shutters of this house were closed tightly and no light was visible. “You may go in with me, Arthur,” said Mrs, Ames, as she stepped out of the carriage. Hoe followed her in at the door, which she opened without ringing or knocking, and they ag @ narrow, uncarpeted and dimly-lighted all, She led the way to the second floor, and stopped at a door near the head of the stairs, “You may wait in here for a few minutes, Arthur,” she said, ‘‘ while I speak to the sick woman,” ned the door, but hoe hesitated. He Ames She o} did not like the looks of tho dark room, or the peculiar smile on her face. As he halted on the sill, she gave him a vigo- rous push which sent him into the middle of the room. Then she quickly pulled the door to and locked it on the outside. Ina few minutes he heard the carriage drive away. It was some little time before Sim Brattle could recover himself sufficiently to reflect upon his position. The suddenness of his imprison- ment had amazed and bewildered him. He had fallen from such a hight of good fortune that the shock stunned him, “Durn the women!” was the first result of his meditations, as his wits came back to him, “‘Durn the women, anyhow! Any one of them has got more tricks than a dozen men. I had the old man dead to rights, but let his wife ‘al in and take the game out of my hands, might have known she was playin’ roots on me, from the soft way she worked it, I did know it, but I follered right along, like a first- class idiot, and let her do just as she pleased with me, and here she has got me shut up like a mouse in a trap, But’most any feller would trust a fat woman.” After trying the door and finding it securely closed, he indulged in a little more reflection. “Tf Bill Yards was here now,” ho said, ‘he would take back what he told me about my head bein’ level. It’s the poorest excuse for o that could be picked up outside of a cab- now, and that is to wait till the fool-killer comes around. I guess he’s got my measure for a coffin, But, gracious spikes! if I could git out of here, wouldn’t I make it hot for em!” The idea of getting out was easier to reflect upon than to act upon, The room could not | have been darker if it had been filled with ee and it was only by feeling around that 6 could make any discoveries. There was little to discover. There was not a table in the room, nor a chair, nor a stick of furniture of any kind, On the bare floor was a straw bed, with not a bit of bedclothes upon it. This was all. There was one window, which the lad found, and tried to raise, but it was nailed down bt ‘He shook it with all his force, and the noise he made brought from the yard below the response of a deep growl, followed by a bark, such as might proceed from the throat of a full- grown mastiff or bull dog. He stamped on the floor and shouted; but only the dog made an- swer, and his reply was not calculated to com- fort the prisoner. Sim clearly perceived that he must abandon all attempts to escape, rt least until daylight, When he had reached this conclusion, he lay down on the bed, and in a few minutes was sound asleep, In the morning some breakfast was brought to him by a big-fisted and hard-featured [rish- man, who looked as if he might be a near rela- tive of the big dog below. The lad’s eyes had by this time become accus- tomed to the absence of light, and the little that filtered through chinks showed him noth- ing more of the room than he already knew, except that the close shutters were bat- tened in, so that no force of his could open them, Clearly there was notbing for him to do but to wait and see what the future would bring forth. He waited, with growing impatience, while the long hours passed slowly, and there was nothing to break the monotony of the day but the appearance of the Irishman with his dinner, and nothing could induce that Irishman to utter a word, This solitary confinement was breaking the lad’s spirit, and all sorts of gloomy thoughts and desperate resolves were taking possession of him, when a man opened the door and walked into the room, - The door was left wide open when the man entered; but Sim saw plainly that there was no chance to escape, as the new-comer was a strongly-built man, coarsely dressed, with a low forehead, a bearded face that was dark from exposure to sun and wind, and a general dare- devil recklessness of Spoate TOs. “T have come to take you away from here, bub,” said this rough-looking customer. ‘‘You are going West, to grow up with the her ag OM ‘* Yes?” said Sim, inquiringly, pee that there was no prospect of being immediately murdered, ‘Yes; you are going far away from here, and I want you to mark what I tell you now, and remember it, You have been tening to ye —_
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Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. 15 make trouble for some friends of mine, and the want me to take you out of their way. In fact, they have paid me to doit. I hope that is plain enough talk.” “*T will be mighty glad to git out of this place, anyhow,” remarked Sim, “You won’t be hurt,” continued the man, “if Se mind what I fell you. You area boy who as run away from his folks in Colorado, and I am an officer who is taking you back there, That’s what I shall say about you, if I have to say Sey thing, and you had better not even think of saying ee against it; for I am Black- hawk, the Terror of the Plains, and it ain’t safe to fool with me.” Sim opened his eyes wide, and directed at the speaker a stare of mingled awe and admiration, “Gracious spikes!” he exclaimed. ‘Are you one of those fellers, mister—like Buffalo Bill and Texas Jack? And are you goin’ out among the Injuns, and all that sort of thing? And are you goin’ to take me with you? Oh, that'll be jo ly! That was only a bit of a lark I had with old Mr. Ames, and I didn’t mean any harm, and if they had offered me such a chance as this I would have jumped at it.” “Come along, then, and see that you keep aeeying atit.” | “You bet I will jump, when such a splendid lookin’ man as you are takes the lead. Say, Mr. Blackhawk, am I goin’ to have a rifle, and kill Injuns?” ‘he Terror of the Plains was evidently im- pressed by the admiring enthusiasm of the young prisoner. ** All that will come along in time, if you prove to be the right kind of achap,” he replied. ‘But you mus’n’t call me Blackhawk about here, You may call me Birch. Come along, now!” hen Sim followed his leader out of the house he noticed that the day was near spent. A car- riage was waiting at the door, which they en- tered, and were driven rapidly to tho railroad depot, where they boarded a train that was about to leave, As the bell was ringing, and the conductor was shouting ‘* All aboard!” Sim was looking out of the window, and he caught sight of Bill Yards, who was standing still and staring about. Sim knew his friend’s face well Sapna, though the dress was strange to him, and he hastened to attract his attention. “ Hey, Bill!” he shouted. * What do you mean by that?” said Birch, as he jerked the lad away from the window. “T saw a partner of mine out there, Gracious spikes! ain’t he dressed up, though!” And the train rattled away. CHAPTER VIII. BILL YARDS UNTWISTS A TANGLE, AFTER leaving Mrs, Ames’s house, Bill Yards sauntered down to Cornelius Corum’s rookery. He found that disagreeable old gentleman in ® more agreeable mood than usual. Indeed, he was in quite a good humor, “ Come in, my young friend,” he said. “Com in and sit down. William ‘is your name, L believe. Iam glad to see you, William. That wicked young man, my son, called on me at noon; but I was ready for him. Not with money, though—he, he!—but with something that was as good as money, and that saved ma quite a sum, **-You see, William, a frienc of mine came to me this morning—a wealthy old gentleman, who lives in a fine house on Ciouteau avenue, and he wanted some advice about a boy. It seems that he had taken this boy to his house out of charity, and had given him a fine suit of clothes, and had fed and lodged him. The boy was useful to him in a little matter of business; but that is of no consequence,” Bill thought of Sim Brattle’s fine new suit, and of the ‘‘palatual residence” of which his friend had spoken; but he wisely kept his thoughts to himself. “This boy began to give my friend trouble,” continued the old man. “He was about your size, I judge, and proved to be a very wicked boy. hen my friend bad no further use for him, he was about to send him away; but he said he meant to stick, Merciful Heavens! How impudent some boys are! He seemed to think that he owned all my friend’s property, and he vowed and declared that he meant to have a big share of it. “My friend, who is not as sharp as he might be, flew into a passion; but his wife, who has a big head full of sense, humored the boy, and told him that he should have all he wanted. So she took him out for a ride, and quietly shut him up in a tight place, where she had him as snug as a cork in a jug.” “ Where is he now?” asked Bill. “ That is what you don’t need to know. Hoe will not stay there long. My friend came to me to ask me what he should do with the boy. That’s a fine chance, thinks I, to get some money formy son. So I told my friend that I knew of a wicked young man who was going to a ver: va place in Colorado, and who would be glad to take the boy out there, if well paid for it, and let bim grow up with the country, as people say,” “ Or start a new graveyard,” suggested Bill, “Well, he would be a fine subject—he, he!— to start a new graveyard with. My friend agreed to that, and I mentioned it to my son when he called, and ho was quite hifeer got the money he wanted in that way, and he is to come this afternoon and settle the matter.” ‘You don’t want me for anything, then?” re- marked Bill. “Not now, William. ‘You may call again, if ‘ou choose—say at four or five o’clock. After hat wicked young man leaves the city, I may be able to do something nice for you. I have done a good stroke of business to-day, William.” Bill Yards hastened to board a street-car, and rode up to Mrs, Ames’s, A suspicion that had been growing in' his mind had become almost a certainty, and he was anxious to consult his friends. He found Richard Ames at the door, just starting out, “‘T have to go back to Santa Clara at once,” said Dick, ‘and am in a hurry to get ready.” Bill begged him to come into the house for a os
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. were talking about a boy named Arthur Ames, - could hardly have caused a greater sensation. if he really had any clear idea of what he was -Ames, _ for that purpose, and now he wants to get him Bill, exactly how your friend ié few minutes, ashe had something of importance to tell him. “Tt is about my partner, Sim Brattle,” he said, when they were seated in the room with | Mrs. Ames and Amy. | Fs ‘contd you heard nothing of him yet?” asked ick, “Not a whisper, and I am worried about him, I’m afeared he has got into a scrape, and | a bad one at that. I told lee that he had been adopted by a rich old gen’leman.” “Quite an unreasonable story,” said Dick. “‘That’s what be told me, and he said I must keep mum about it until he got settled. But I think I begin tosee through it now. You who had been missin’, but had turned up at last, and there was a heap o’ money mixed up in the story. Well, the fact is that when I last saw Sim, and when he told me that yarn, he said that his name was Arthur Ames.” If a to o had exploded in the room, it Dick jumped up, Amy screamed, and cvceno Mrs. Ames.was greatly excited. “Why didn’t you tell us this before?’ asked “T didn’t rightly get hold of it when you were taliin’,” replied Bill. ‘‘ The idee come to me sorter slow, and di‘u’t git fairly stuck in my craw until a bit ago.” ‘Arthur Ames must be dead, then, and this boy has been oneoyen to personate him,” said Mrs. Ames, ‘Who would have thought that after saving our lives he would do us such an injury?” ‘Why, ma, he could not have known that he was hurting us,” suggested Amy, ‘and I doubt nee, “You are right, Amy,” said her brother, ‘and we ought not to blame bim until we know more about the matter. The most important question is, where is he? Why do you think he has got into a scrape, Bill? hat do you sup- pose happened to him?” Bill related as briefly as he could the particu- lars of his acquaintance with Cornelius Corum including the story which that old man ha lately told him, and which he could not help connecting with his friend, Sim Brattle. “Tt seems to be clear enough,” said Richard “Our uncle Augustus has used the lad outof the way. A man who could concoct such a swindle as that would not strongly object to committing a murder for the purpose of cover- ing his tracks.” “That is a terrible charge,” remarked Mrs, Ames, ‘‘and we ought not to make it unless we are sure that it is true.” “Tecan easily make sure of that. Tell me, as dressed when you last saw him. ThenI will see Mr. Bren- nan, and get a description of the boy who an- swered to the name of Arthur Ames before the referee,” Bill gave an accurate description of the ap- pearance of his friend. “Now,” said Dick, “you must back to Cornelius Corum, and try to find out when the Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. boy he spoke of is to Jeave the city. Then you must be at the Union Depot again at six, to see if your friend comes to meet you. By that time I hope we will know what to do.” This programme the Jad followed as well as he could; but he was unsuccessful in bis efforts to pump out of Cornelius Corum such informa- tion as he wanted. That shrewd old money-grubber was even more elated than he had been when Bill last visited him, and was communicative enough as far as he chose to be, but could not be induced to go an inch further. “Tt is all right, William,” he said; ‘‘ that bit of business has been carried out nicely, and everything is settled. My son came here, and he was much pleased with what I pro to him, and I gave him his money in five new hundred-dollar bills, which I got on my friend’s check, and he will attend to that little matter for my friend exactly as it ought to be attended to, I am sure.” “When will he leave town with that boy you was speakin’ about?” “Oh, I don’t know. That was none of niy business, Right away, of course. I suppose they are off and gone before this time. What do I care about it? That wicked young man is out of my way, and has promi: me that he will not come back to trouble me for a long time, and the papers do say that there is going to be an Indian war out there.” ‘* How long since he left this house?” inquired Bill, still bent on getting information. ‘*Not long. How you do ask questions! He was here but a short time. Let me see—’ A cloud came over Cornelius Corum’s ugly face, and the bright and cheerful expression left it rain & “T left him here alone a little while,” said he. “He wanted me to go out and get one of those bills changed for him, as he was afraid he might be suspected of having stolen it, I was gone but a few minutes. It is not possible that he could have done any mischief in that time. foam heavens! I had not thought of it be- ore. The old man hastily tried the door of his safe, and found it locked. Then he opened some drawers and little closets in his desk, and found nothing out of the way there. His face began to ety brighter, but he was not yet entirely satisfied. He took akey from his pocket, and opened the door of his safe. Then he took a tin box from a shelf within, and carefully lifted the lid, turning his back upon his young visitor. Suddenly he uttered a screech of horror and ay oa and the empty box fell from his hands to the floor, and he wonld have fallen backward if Bill Yards had not come to his assistance. “* What is the matter?” asked the lad. “Oh, the reprobate!—the scoundrel !—the in- fernal villain} He has robbed me! He has robbed his gas father! He had a key to my safe, and I did not suspect it. ta d foolI have been! And now lam Ia The agony in the old man’s face made Bill pity him; but something more than pity was needed. “What did he take?” inquired the lad. a mre ts 2a li eoedda 8 =*
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Smart Sim, the Lad_with the Level Head. i? “* Diamonds—the finest diamonds, emeralds and rubies—thousands of dollars’ worth. Oh, I am ruined!” ‘“What train was he to go on? Let’s stop him.” “Ho must be off before now. I told you all | I know about that.” ** Let’s ketch him, then.” ; The oldman jumped up. The lad’s brisk and active manner had put new life into him. “Yes, we must catch him,” saidhe. ‘“ Will you help me? I want your kelp, Wiiliam, You will serve me as well as a detective, and be cheaper. I will give you the fine pistol you had —that is, I will lend to you—and I will geta warrant, or a requisition, or whatever it is, and we will follow him to Colorado—to Santa Clara —and we will get my jewels, and you shall be paid for your trouble, William—oh, yes, you shall be paid.” “That suits me to a dot!” exclaimed Bill. “When are you goin’ to start?” ‘* As soon as possible—to-morrow morning.” “All right, I will run down to the Union De- pot, tosee if my pardner has turned up, and will come back here to sleep.” ss Be sure that you do, William, and come early. The lad hurried to the depot, but with no hope of finding his friend, Blessed are they who ex- pect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed, and in that respect he was blessed. He was about to leave the place, when he was startled by hearing his name shouted in a fa- miliar tone. “Hey, Bill!” There are many Bills, and that cry might be heard any day on any street corner; but Bill Yards was sure that he knew the voice. He looked in the direction of the sound, and saw the face of his friend at the window of a car that was leaving the depot. The next instant the face suddenly disap- peared, and the train rattled away, far out of the lad’s reach. But he was sure that he had seen his friend, and was more than ever determined to follow Birch Corum westward. He hastened to Mrs. Ames’s house, and found the pana y te a high state of excitement. Dick had seen his mother’s lawyer, Mr. Brennan, and had learned from him that the description of Arthur Ames exactly corresponded with that of Sim Brattles, Bill added to this the fact that he had seen his friend leaving the city on a westward bound train, and Richard Ames de- clared that he would lose no time in endeavor- ing to get possession of Sim and bring him back to St. Louis, Bill related his afternoon’s adventure at Cor- nelius Corum’s, and said that he would start for Colorado with that gentleman in the morning. “Go ahead,” said Dick, “and I will be right on your heels,” _ CHAPTER IX, TROUBLE IN A HAPPY HOME, Tue ‘Happy Home” was not the only hotel in Banta Clara; but it was the best of the two bad ones, It had originally been styled the “. al | ranchmen;, so it had dwindled to ** Miners’ and Ranchmen’. Happy Home;’but the mining business had “petered out” and the name was too lgng to suit the n of the Happy Home.” The proprietor, Dan Sprawl, found f a dry and lonesome business waiting for better times, | as visitors were scarce outside of the customers of his bar, and he was rejoiced when two strangers alighted from the stage and inscribed their names in the dirty register that lay on his bar counter, . The names wero these: “©, Corum, St. Louis.” “Willyum Yards, Esquire, New Yerk.” The latter inscription was completed, after considerable labor, by a rather young gentle- man, with auburn bair and a snub nose, who stood back and surveyed it with an air of triumph, A short and fat man, with a red face and a redder nose, and with a general rance of having seen better days a long time ago, who had been looking over the lad’s shoulder, ei back, and gazed at him admiringly. “Ts that your name he asked, “Yes,” replied Bill. * All of it yours?” “Of course it is,” * And you have come all the way from Noo York. Mebbe you're a lawyer, and are gwine to stick up a shingle here.” ‘Not much. I’m a spekilator.” “ Pockets full o’ rocks, l reckon. Wal, young gentleman, I’ve got a mine to sell—fust class gold mine, aud all the ore that ain’t gold is sil- ver, ’ceptin’ a streak o’ quicksilver that runs through the lead.” “Say, now, Baldy,” remarked Dan Spraw), a big six-footer, ‘I don’t want you to be givin’ the guests of this yere hotel too much of yer b. ? ‘’'Tain’t offen we see sech a fine young gen- tleman as this,” remarked the man who was addressed as Baldy. ‘‘Mebbe he mought want to treat.” “Not if I know myself,” said Bill. “I be- long to the Business Men’s ’Ciety tur the Pur- vention of Treatin’.” By this time the room had filled with loun- gers, who were inspecting the strangers closely. “See here, fellers,” said Baldy, ‘‘this fine young gentleman from the great metrapulis says he won't treat.” ‘l reckon he will have to, or shed some of his feathers,” remarked a man who was even bigger than Dan Sprawl, and a howl of assent tol Bill Yards that there was trouble in store for him. He looked to Cornelius Corum for help, but only saw the old man’s coat tails as he went out at the door, The next moment the lad was picked up, passed over the heads of the crowd, and seated on the counter. “T reckon we've got to hev suthin’ to amuse us,” remarked Baldy. ‘Oh, PU amuse you fast enough,” said Bill. ““W’ot kin you do that’s interestin’, young spekilator?” “ Jest make room fur me on that floor, and T'll give you agong an’
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__« who has come out here,” 18 Smart Sim, the Lad In a few minutes a space was -cleared, and Bill pulled off his coat, and rolled up the bot- toms of his trowsers. After a little preliminary shuffle, to limber his feet, he began the enter- tainnient with this ditty, which he sung in a shrill but clear tenor: “* My name is Willyum Yards, ; And Iam from New York; On fun I allers go my pile, But not a cent on work.” He walked around the space reserved for him, artist,” executed a breakdown that called forth plenty of applause, and proceeded to sing his second verse: “T ain’t much on the drink, Nor am I on the fight; But when it comes to song an’ My head an’ heels are light.” “Now fur the third verse. gentlemen,” he said, when he had again performed his walk- around and breakdown, “T've come to Santa Clara, To have some sport, you know; Fur it is jest the liveliest town This side of Jericho.” For an encore he repeated the first verse, and _ when the storm of applause excited by this per- formance had subsided, he treated his audi- ence to “ Wait Till the Moonlight Shines on the Water.” © i There was a general outburst of enthusiasm, and then a grand rush to the bar. “That’s the chap for my money,” exclaimed the giant of the party. ‘“ Anybody what treads on his toes will hev to buck ag’inst Bob Slater.” ** It’s as good as strikin’ a new lead in an old mine,” remarked Dan Sprawl, ‘‘and that boy kin, hang out at this hotel as jong as he wants to. “ Hurrah fur the Wild Warbler of the Santa Clara Walley!” shouted Baldy, ‘‘ Whar’s the old man, now? Let’s have him in, and see what he’s up to.” Bill Yards had sought Cornelius Corum, and found him looking at the scene from the outside through a crack in the wall, and pe d him that it would be safe to enter the hotel. When he came in he was greeted with inquiries as to his business and destination. es ef business is square enough, gentlemen,” replied the old man, as his presence of mind _ came backtohim, ‘I shall want help, and am willing to pay for it. I am looking for the sheriff.” “T’m the sheriff,” said Dan Sprawl. “I was elected three years ago, and nobody has been elected since then; so I reckon I hold on. But thar ain’t no jail nor no ls 2 the county business has kinder fell through.” “* What are you sheriff for, then?” “Wal, I mought kerlect the taxes, ef thar | ‘was any taxes to kerlect; but since the diggin’s | dried up, and this town has sorter faded out, we don’t bother about taxes. What do you want of a sheriff, old gen’leman?” “‘T have a warrant and a requisition for a man who stole some valuable jowels in St, Louis, and ee . in the most approved style of the ‘variety Paes can'S give him too hard a name. with the Level Head. ‘* Who is be?” asked Sprawl, looking around at the loungers rather suspiciously, “His name is Birch Carcin.® ** What! Blackhawk?” This name was repeated by so many voices that the old man was bewildered. “Tho man I speak of,” he said, “is a sort of cattlo-trader.” “Cattle-trader!” exclaimed Bob Slater. ‘Cat- tle-thief youhad bettersay. Road-agent—high- way robber—whatever you choose to call him— He’s the worst egg in the basket. Thar’s plenty besides ou, stranger, who would like to git hold of um, “T offer a reward of one thousand dollars for his tea th and the recovery of the jewels,” said Cornelius Corum, ‘“Tain’t enough, stranger. Thar’s men who would give more'n that for him, dead or alive, and dead is the only way to fetch him. Heis a durned sight more likely to ketch than to git caught.” “The fact is,” said Dan Sprawl, “that none of us hanker arter the job of buckin’ ag’inst Blackhawk and his gang, and we are only glad if they will leave us alone. They used fo take this town every now and then, and make things lively. We had a bank yere oncet, but they cleaned it out, and that made an end of the bank, Of late days we don’t dar’ to run as much as a faro-bank, for fear they mought light in on it. The bottom fact of the matter is, stranger, that our poverty purtects us.” Cornelius Corum looked around in dismay. The prospect of success in the pursuit of his jewels appeared to be very faint, “There are men enough about here,” he said, “and I should think that there ought to be some among them who are brave enough to hunt that rascal down.” “ Yere’s yer hunter!” shouted Baldy. ‘ Look at me! Jest put me on the trail! I’m the man fur yer money! Gimme five hundred dollars to start on, an’ lll light out arter Blackhawk in less’n an hour,” A storm of jeers and hisses followed this offer, as the crowd were clearly of the opinion that | Baldy’s lighting out with that sum of money would result in his never returning. “‘ As fur bein’ brave,” said one of the party, “T reckon we’re as brave as most folks; but men as hain’t got nothin’ don’t fret much about the losin’s of them as has. Thar’s plenty of us as would be glad to tackle Blackhawk and his | gang, ef he should give us cause, and ef we could git a fair chance at him.” This sentiment was received with approba- tion, and Cornelius Corum aniturenel it by directing Sprawl to produce his poison, After several drinks had been absorbed, the crowd became enthusiastic, and boisterously proclaimed their intention of organizing for the capture of Blackhawk and his band. ‘I wish we could git a sight at ’em now!” shouted Baldy. ‘‘Wouldn’t we salivate the snoozers!” The galloping of horses was heard on the street, and the noisy loungers suddenly became silent, looking at each other as if they were not , easy in their minds, 4. itn
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rt Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. The galloping quickly came nearer, a number of horses stopped at the hotel, and a sharp com- mand was heard. “Blackhawk!” shouted Baldy, and there was & general rush for doors and windows, ut all the avenues of escape were stopped by the muzzles of rifles, and three masked men, with revolvers in their hands, marched into the room. “Sit down, gentlemen, and hold up your hands!” ordered the leader, and this command was instantly obeyed. Bill Yards, who happened to be standing at the corner of the bar, dodged down behind the counter, where he burrowed among some empty kegs and bottles, and covered himself with an old sack. Cornelius Corum, seeing no escape for himself, crouched down in a corner, and hid his face with his hands. It would have been amusing to an outsider to observe the quiet and ash with which that lately boisterous crowd seated themselves upon benches, boxes and barrels, and meekly held up their hands, while the raiders “ went through” them rapidly and thoroughly. A few, such as Baldy, who were sure to have nothing, were skipped in the search, and the gleanings were so small that they called forth exclamations of disgust. The only ‘‘haul” worth speaking of was Dan Sprawl’s money- drawer, which he opened under the persuasion ofa revolver. Even on the person of Cornelius Corum nothing of consequence was found, as he had previously concealed his valuables outside of the building. But the old man’s sachel was quickly broken open, and the leader took from it some folded papers, which he glanced at and stuffed them to his pocket, bursting into a harsh laugh, “T sha’n’t trouble you Santa Clara cusses again,” he said. “I might as well shear a tend for wool. Santa Clara is the poorest, ryest, meanest, mangiest, sneakin’est, | flea- begotten and God-forsaken hole this side of the Milsissipp, and it has got down to a thousand- foot level beneath my notice, Come, boys!” And Blackhawk and his band left the ‘‘ Happy Home,” mounted their horses and clattered away. CHAPTER X. TURNING THE TABLES. A HORSEMAN rode up to a small tenement on the side of a hiil, at a distance of several miles from Santa Clara, Tho tenement might more properly be styled a “shebang” than a house, as it was partly shanty, and partly dug out, a portion of it be- ing nothing more than a hole in the bill, It had an open shutter and a broken door, but no window, Behind the horseman rode a well-dressed boy, who got down at a word from a man in t! ma, who also dismounted and hitched his orse, The broken door was opened by a small and lean man, ra , dirty, dark-skinned and with an ill favored countenance. “Hi, Birch!” he exclaimed. ‘So you've got back at last. Whatsort of a kid is you've brought?” 19 “This is a young friend of mine from St. Louis,” replied the visitor, who was no other than Birch Corum. ‘‘ Come in, Sim, and rest.” The two entered the shebang, and found the interior quite as comfortable as the outside promised, ‘““What have you got to eat, Yarrup?” asked Birch. ‘‘I am as hungry as a wolf.” “Deer meat and corn-pone.” “That will do, Trot it out.” The provender was not very dainty, as to quality or cleanliness; but the two riders were hungry enough to make no complaint, and they ate heartily, In the course of the meal, Birch Corum gave the proprietor of the shebang such particulars as he chose <—e. ot his trip tc the East. He said that he been ‘cleaned out by the St. Louis sharps.” but had managed to ‘raise a stake,” and had returned to make up for his losses ‘* by honest labor,” “ How are the boys getting on?” he asked. “They’ve been tol’able quiet since you’ve been gone,” sees Yarrup. ‘A few things has been picked up yere and thar; but they tried to stop a stage on the valley road, and made a mess of it, and 1 reckon that since then they’ve been waitin’ fur you. They'll be livel enough when you git tc ’em, you may bet, you goin’ to take the kid over thar?” ‘*Ne; not yet, anyhow. He is a sharp lad, but I have heard that he is a little too sharp, ana i; miay not be safe for him to mix with the gang yet awhiie, the present, Yarrup. You can take care of him. and perhape you can make bim useful. I will pay you for bis keep, anyway.” gains thie arrangement Sim Brattle pro- tested Le Nab Ae . Itdid not suit his expecta- tion. ir. the least that he should be kept a pris- oner ir that dark and dirty hovel, in the charge of such ar unpleasant person as errdps “You promised me, Mr. Birch,” he said, ‘that wher I got out here I might learn to hunt and kil) Injuns.” “You must have pares young chap. Thero are nc Injuns to kill justnow, and you are hard- ly fit tor the kina of hunting we do, You had better settle down as you are told to, and be mighty durned thankfu! that you are no worse rs ; Birck. Corum rode away, after some whispered conversation with Yarrup, leaving Sim Brattle sulky and discontented. Sim had foreseen, he was not likely to have a pleasant lite, with Yarrup, and he soon ae up his mina that he would not endure it ong. he proprietor of the shebang ordered him to takc off his coat, relieved him of the little change he had left, led him out of doors, and set him tc chopping wood, a species of work to whict Sim was not accustomed. Yarruy, lighted a pipe and sat down to over- see the jot. at the same time favoring the young fellcw witb a lecture or his position and uties * Ali you've got to de is to mind me,” said the lecturer. ‘If you don’t mind me, there’s trou- “ble ahead fur you, I’ve heerd that be wae a leetle toc sharp fur some folks at St. is; but Ee” I will leave him with you for’ caSwO sg BA FRITS OS ES TET ee
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Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. sharpness don’t count, u don’t gc out no- whar, ’ceptin’ along ’ith me, and you'd better remember, al! the while, that a rifle-ball kin travel a pewerful sight faster than you kin, and Tr told that it won't make much differ ef you should happer. to git knocked over, So you see it won’t do tc try tc run oft. Ef you should happen to git loose, whar’d you go to? This is alone, wild kentry, and thar’s b’ars an’ wolves an’ wildeats till you cain’t rest.” : Sim rémembered that he had ridden a consid- erable distance in that region without seeing any sucb menagerie beasts, and he was not afraid of them. He had a wholesome fear of tting lost in the hills, and did not doubt that arrup would be willing enough to send a bul- let after him; but he wae strong in the deter: mination tc escape when he could see his way a little clearer. e After a wretched supper, a rougt. night’s sleer or. a bare floor, and a very poor excuse for breakfast, thie determination became a3 stronger In addition to his desire to “make it R hot” for Augustus Ames and his wife, he wanted in me to “ gec even” with Birch Corum. who had put lke him in suck a hole and such company. A 7 His determination became a settled mtention shortly after that bad breakfast. f He was ordered tc gc out and cut some more (aes wood; but he grumbled, and hesitated about ’ obeying. Yarrugz picked up a piece ot rawhide 5 lariat, and shook it at him. we Yarrup rbymege with larrup,” he said, ‘‘and you’!) ketch it ef you don’. mind.” _ Sim inwardly resolved that if thai man should strike him he wouid never rest until be got ever; but he thought it best to choke down his rand wait unti' his turn came. “Pull oft your coat!” ordered Yarrup. As Sim started to obey this order he oiged towara the corner in which he had seen Yar- rup’s rific standing. He knew that it was capped, and presumed that it was loaded. he next instant he grabbed the rifle, cocked it, ana aimed ii at his ragged and dirty jailer. ‘You durnea fool!” exclaimed that individ- ual. ‘ It ain’t loaded!” . “ That’s the very kind that always kills folks,” replied Sim, as the idea flashed across his mind that if it was not loaded Yarrup would be sure to make a rush and seize it. But Yarrup did nothing of the sort, and seemed tc be strongly disinclined to gaze at the muzzle of the weapon. | © Walk straight out of here, now,” ordered Sim, ‘and point your toes toward Santa Clara, or I'll blow a hole right through you.” ‘You wouldr’t really shoot me, would you?” asked the owner of the rifle, as he edged away. ** Wouldn’t [though? You can just bet your | last rag I would. I tell you, old seed, I’m des- z prit, and I mean business all the time. I’m ween oin’ to git out of ‘his serape if it takes a quick as winkin’.” face to show that he meant what he said, and on he was dangerous, Yarrup backed out of | It needed but a glance at the lad’s determined did not perceive that he had any good you’ve come to a xonty whar that kind o’ | ‘Won't you please shut up the house, young 0 gen’tleman?”’ he asked, as Sim followed him. “Shut nothin’! steal, and. no white man would stick his head intc that hole if he could help it. You just turn square around and march toward Santa — Clara, or you'll git a dose,” ‘Sante Clara is ever so fur from here,” — sulkily replied Yarrup, a: he obeyed this order, “I don’t care how far itis. Point your nose in that direction, and fcllow it right along!” Yarrup scrambled down the bridle-path that led to bis hut, and took a westerly course, Sim Brattle keeping ata distance of about ten paces ix. his rear. Every now and then the leader partly turned or locked over his shoulder, and every time he saw the lad’s eyes fastened on him, and the rifle aimed at him, He was getting uneasy, and the weapon in the boy’s hands made him nervous, “YT wish you’d pint that thing some other way,” he said, ‘*It mought go off.” “You said it wasn’t loaded,” replied Sim, “A gun is danger’s, some folks say, without lock, stock or barrel, and I reckon you hain’ been used to foolin’ with weapons.” **-You had better not bother me, then, or do anythin’ to startle me, or you'll be to blame for the accidents.” “You mought let the hammer down, any- how, “Uain’t no use to keep the gun cocked,” Sim considered this point, and thought he might, grant the request, “Twill let it down,” he said; “ but I can lift it again as quick as you’d say snap. So you had better mind your eye, and keep your nose pointed for Santa Clara,” Yarrup kd the way by a faint bridle-path that seemed to lead nowhere in particular, except that its general direction was westward, and that took the travelers down hills and up, but mainly up, through ravines and gullies where Sim was obliged to mind his steps and carry his rifle carefully. But he never failed to keep a watchful eye on his leader, and to be ready to draw a bead on him if there should be ai sign of treachery. When this sort of work had continued more than an hour, and there were siill no indica- tions of reaching anything that looked like a settlement, Sim began to grow uneasy. * Are you takin’ me toward Santa Clara, you dodrotted old seed?” he asked. ** OF course [I am,” gruffly replied Yarrup. **It don’t look as if we are ever goin’ to git ir. sight of anywhere.” “T’'m a-doing the best I kin, to Santa Clara.” “*T want you to strike into the big road.” “ This is the nighest way to the big road,” re- plied Yarrup, and he began to whistle, “What are § whistling for?” demanded Sim, “‘Reckon I want to do sutbin’ to pass the It’s a long way uneral, March right along, or I'll shoot as | time.” Sim was suspicious of the whistling; but ha excuse for stopping it, and it went on until something else happened, ; Three men suddenly sprung out from among There ain’t a cent’s worth to ©
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22 c or Ieee |. eee - a os eS eee _ there, Smart Sim, the Lad_with the Level Head. 21 the rocks and Sim Brattle was seized from be- hind and disarmed. Before him stood Birch Corum, with a puzzled look on his face, Then the lad knew that Yarrup had led him | into an ambush, and had whistled to call up the men who captured him. CHAPTER XI. LIFE OR DEATH. ‘* Wat does all this mean, Yarrup?”’ asked Birch Corum, looking from Sim Brattle to the man in whose keeping he had been left. “Yo jest take that young rattlesnak- inside, and [ll tell you: all avout it.” Sim was led through ar opening in th. rocks to a large hole that proved to be the entrance to ® considerable cavern, Inside, undes the arched but irregular roof of stone, was quite a comfortable arrangement of blankets, skins and rude articles of furniture with a variety of weapcns, utensils and miscel- laneous articles. Five men were sitting or lounging about in the cavern, besides those who came iv with Sim. The lad was seated in the midst of them, ane Yarrup had told how his young prisoner had captured him, and how he, in his turn, had turned the tables on bis driver by leading bin. into an ambush. There were a few exaggera- tions in this narrative, inserted for the benefi’ of the narrator; but it was, on the whole, a reasonably fair account of the transaction. It was listened to with occasional bursts of laughter, and now and then an apprecativs oaths but Birch Corum found bimself divided between an inclination to be amused and a de- sire to be angry. **T told you, Yarrup,” he said, ‘‘that the boy was a sharp one, and your story aah that he was much too sharp for you. ehas earned the right to be quit of you if sharpness is worth anything; but if seems to me that heis just a _ little too sharp to live.” “ The on’y way I could keep him ’ud be by slittin’ his windpipe,” remarked Yarrup. ‘‘ Noth- in’ short o’ that ‘ud keep him from runnin’ away.” “Where was he trying to get to?” “ Why, to Santa Clara,” “Great snakes! he would have starved to death there, judging by the last view I had of the old hole.’ Sim begar to believe that he had got into. bad box, and thought it high time to put in a word for himselt. **T only asked him to take me toSanta Clara,” he said, “because I thought I would find yov r. Birch.” This statement was a little too much for Yarrup. * Efthat ain’t the cheekiest young riptyle that ever was foaled,” said he, “‘may I never see hog an’ hominy ag’in!” uch an assertion on the part of Yarrup was considered as having the force of a solemn oath, and the feeling was decidedly against Sim. “I; a fact, though,” the ladinsisted. “ Yor told me, Mr. Birch, that I might learn to hunt and to kill Injuns. “T told you, you young imp, that you must have patience and stay with Yarrup. But here you are, and the question is, what shall we do with you? You could never do us the least bit of good, and the chances are that you might do usa heap of harm, It is my opinion, as I said afore, that you are ’most too sharp tr live.” This speech, although apparently directed to Sim Brattle, was in reality addressed by Birch Corum to his comrades, and it was received quite too favorably for the lad’s peace of mind. ‘*Thar’s on’y one thing to be done with him,” said Yarrup, ‘and that is to strangle bim,” “We must get at the sentiments of the party on that subject,” remarked Birch. ‘* Gentlemen, here’s a young rattler that has got into the wrong hole, and the question is, what shall we do with him? There’s nc chance for half-way measures with such a yas aed turtle of a cir- cumstance as this is. e have either got to keep him, or make an end of him. Yarrup says that the easiest and surest trick will to strangle him, and that is my opinion, knowing the yeue epee as I do, and knowing that he won't be missed by those whc sent him out here. But I will put it to a vote of the party.” ‘* Ain’t I allowed to say a word about this lit- tle game?” inquired Sim. “Not a twitter. Now, gentlemen, all whe are in favor of twisting the neck of this bantam will signify the same by saying ay.” The ayes were vigorous enough, * Contrary, no,” The noes seemed to be as numerous as th. ayes though not so noisy; but Birch at once decided in favor of the ayes, and the prospect for Sim Brattle was a dark one. “T ain’t sure, Cap, that that’s a fair vote,” said a tall a te man, whoseemed inclined wee the 1 part. “I call for a standin’ vote, ' This was held to be a parliamentary proceed- ing, and those in favor of Sim’s immediate exe- cution were directed to stand up. Five men stood up, including Yarrup. A call for the other side brought only four marDecided dead against th scamp,” eci ead a s' e young y said Birch, “I hope Cimmarone Joe is satis- fled.” “J ain’t, though,” exclaimed Sim, pointing at ‘Did that old seed vote?” ‘Yes, he voted.” “Well, gentlemen, I guess I’ve got every bit as good a right to vote as he had, and I vote— no y He jumped up and boldly ranged himself by the side of his supporters. — i ‘ This piece of audacity did not fail to excite the admiration of the rough men for who-e benefit it was intended, and a murmur of ap- lause drowned the savage remark that Birch rum be to make. After all, he was but one member of the band, though the leader, and his voice went for no more than another in a council of war. The point was freely discussed, and it was decided that Yarrup, being actually an outsider, though in some respects an assistant to the band, had no better right to vote than the prisoner bad. ‘‘We stand four to four, then,” said Birch. “Iisa tie, and how are you going to settle it?”
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22 Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. — “TPIl tell you what todo, Cap,”suggested Cim- | think of anything in the world, now, but hold- marone Joe, ‘‘Supposin’ you let me buy the in’ that balf dollar just so.” 4 , youngster.” | Cimmarone Joe walked to his station, andex- |. th “Buy him? What do you mean!” | amined his rifle carefully. bt “Buy his life of you. Ill shoot for him, any “‘T mean to have fair play here, or thar’ll be — at way you want.” trouble,” he said, looking around at the by- __‘th “Well, I don’t care what becomes of the cuss, | standers. ‘‘If any man makes a noise, or stirs § —BU s0’s I get him off my hands, and he is fixed todo 80 as to bother me, let him look out for him- 8) noharm,” self. I mean this warnin’ partic’larly tor Yar- B “Tf I win him, Birch, I'll engage to keep him | rup.” st safe and sure.” | ‘PN look out fur your side of the game, Joe,” 7 b a “You might as well engage to take care of a | Said a stalwart six-footer, as he cocked his re- | E kicking mule or a bucking broncho. Have it | volver. Ls Ske Be ‘Lie own way though. I willgiveyouachanco | The marksman raised his rifle, and took a = = w or the chap, if you will shoot onmy terms, and careful aim. The boy stood like a statue against 0 = So SS a gg re rr aa ‘ Fig Pai SE if the game is agreeable to the rest of the “ What's your terms, Cap?” “ That you shall shoot a half-dollar out of tho | chap’s fingers, at a hundred steps. The boy to back against a tree, and to hold the half dollar 80's it just fairly shows above his head.” “That’s a rough deal, Cap, considerin’ what kind of a mark I’ve got; but Tcan do it, if the boy will hold steady.” ‘It is settled, then, if the poripan has no objection. You shall shoot for the boy, and may have himif you win. If you lose, Yarrup may take him and twist his neck.” “You bet I'll hold steady,” said Sim, entering into the spirit of the thing with the eagerness of a boy at bis first base-ball match. He did not entirely comprehend the arrange- ment that had been made, but perceived that his life, if not his liberty, was to depend upon the marksmanship of Cimmarone Joe. He was soon to learn that this was not the only risk in the venture, but his life was more immediately in danger, as there was a pretty strong chance that a miss shot might kill him outright. The entire company left the cavern, and de- _scended to a shaded and quiet valley, where Cimmarone Joe selected the tree that was to serve as a backing for his mark. From this tree a hundred paces were stepped off in the direction which he pointed out. He then led Sim Brattle to the tree, and placed him with his back against it. “T reckon I had better tie you,” he said, ‘‘to keep you as steady as possible.” 6 passed a leather strap under the lad’s arms, and belted it around the tree securely. T hope you ain’t goin’ to kill me, mister,” said Sim, looking at him wistfully. “T want to save your life, youngster,” was the kind reply, “‘ and you must help me all you can. I mean todo my best; and my best is as as any eabet man’s; one Rac ogres * ngerous one, and you oug! ow tha’ Take this half dollar, now.” Sim took the coin, and held it with his thumb and a as Joe directed him, so that the lower edge was about even with the crown of his head. “Your life depends on this,” said Joe, ‘‘ and all you have to do is to hold that half dollar steady. Can you do it?’ , “T guess that'll do to bet on,” replied Sim. me iy, I shut my eyes?” N es,and you ought to shut them. Don’t WIA Foe LOE Toe eee eS | the tree, and the sharpest eyes could not detect the slightest motion of the coin, or the least quiver of his fingers. The report of the rifle rung through the val- ley, and Sim uttered a sharp cry as his hand dropped down, ' **TIe’s brained him!” shouted Yarrup, peint- ing eagerly at the patch of blood on the lad’s forebead. “Tho boy is mine,” replied Cimmarone Joo, as ho walked leisurely toward the tree. The bullet had chipped off the tip of Sim’s finger, had sent the coin spinning, and bad bedded itself in the tree. After a search the battered half-dollar was found in the leaves. 4 Dnoye you are all satisfied,” said Cimmarone Joo, as he unbuckled the strap. “16 was a good shot,” said Birch Corum, “and I =Or. say for the youngster that he earned his life by the nerve he showed.” All seemed to be satisfied, except Yarrup, who sulked and said nothing, and all returned to the cavern, Cimmarone Joe took Sim into the back part of the den, where light came in through a rift in the rock, and tied up his finger, at the same time administering a little lecture to bim. ‘You are my boy now,” said Joe, ‘* because T saved your life.” ‘*T know that,” replied Sim, and his tone and manner showed that he appreciated the, fact. “‘T have won you,” continued Joe; “but you helped to play the game, and I know that thar’s good stuff in you. You are a smart lad, but I am told that vou are alittle too sharp. What I want is that po shall be just sharp enough, and then you'll keep out o’ trouble. You must go easy about these diggin’s, and don’t be too durned brash. Mind what I tell you, and don’t light out o’ this until I give you leave, and you'll be all hunky. I’m kinder ’sponsible for hig as you know, and I want you to stick to he line I lay down, and you'll allers find a friend in Cimmarone Joe.” 5 “ Am I goin’ to learn to hunt and to kill In- juns?” asked Sim. “Tl teach you to shoot, and when I pe. up into the Gunnison country you'll find Injuns enough, and mebbe a little too plenty.” CHAPTER XII. SANTA CLARA ON THE WAR-PATH. Wuen Birch Corum, otherwise known as Blackhawk, rode away with his band from Dan Sprawl’s “ Happy Home,” no attempt wag made to pursue them, ‘
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heat Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. There was a general feeling of relief when they were gone, and the citizens of Santa Clara burst out in a tumult of indignation. Their anger, however, was not-caused by the losses they had sustained or the indignities nr # had mifvered at the hands of the raiders, but by the slight that had been put upon the town by Blackhawk in his parting speech, They could stand anything but an insult to their beloved burgh. Bill Yards, emergin under the counter, shoo who had been dazed by the occurrence, and the old man slipped out at the door to look after his valuables. fo found them safe, and restored them to his person. As he re-entered the room, he was saluted by the landlord. “That was Birch Corum,” said Sprawl. “Why didn’t you ketch him?” But the old man was examining his sachel from his concealment up Cornelius Corum, which the raiders had rummaged, and his an- swer was a howl of wrath. “They have carried off my warrant, my re- quisition!” he exclaimed. The crowd burst into a roar of laughter, led by Dan Sprawl. “Tm glad to find suthin’ to laugh at,” said the landlord, ‘‘and that’s the best joke of the season, That a man should come and steal the warrant that calls for his arrest is a little too rich for every day victuals. He knew what it was, stranger, and he and his pards are havin’ a joll circus over it, you bet!” ** Tf it is of no more use to him than it was to me, he is welcome to it,” said Mr. Corum, after a moment's reflection. ‘I could do nothing with it in this country.” “That’s a solid fact, old gentleman. If you can’t get him without a warrant you can’t get him with one. Thar’s plenty o’ folks would be glad to put the’r clutches on him, with out a scrap of writin’ or a word from a sheriff, and would string him up on sight ef he’d give ’em a chance, If you’d offer a reward, I reckon he’d ere himself up quick, and then would take himself off as soon as he’d got the money.” ‘Cornelius Corum, who had not conceived a high respect for the men about him, declared that no people who had a pre eare for their own safety and that of their property, would permit such a rascal to roam about the coun- wy, Fagan and murdering as he pleased. * Look a-here, stranger,” said the giant, who had announced himself as Bob Slater. The less chin music 0’ that sort = give us, the bet- ter fur your wholesome. e know our faults an’ failin’s, but we don’t allow any old smoked herrin’s of your size and built to go about pick- in’ flaws outen us. Regardin’ Blackhawk and his pards, the time has come fur the solid citizens of Santa Clara to do suthin’.” A murmur of applause, not loud, but deep, showed that the giant was giving words to the prevailing sentiment of the crowd. “We are long-sufferin’ an’ slow to anger, as the Scripter says,” he continued; ‘‘but thar’s some things we can’t an’ won’t stand. We've stuck to Santa Clara through good times an’ bad; we’ve knowed its ups an’ downs; but we | from _ never yet struck sech a low level that we wasn’t Oe = ready to everlastingly go fur the ha’r of any high-headed galoot or set o’ sheep thieves who dar’d to tell us to our faces that Santa Clara is the driest, dirtiest, meanest, mangiest, sneak- in’est an’ most God-forsaken hole this side o’ the Mississippi.” “‘That’s sol Hurray fur Slater!’ shouted Baldy, and a chorus of yells and ejaculations declared that the giant had struck the right lead this time, with no shadow of a doubt, Other speakers followed Slater, and the bur- den of their remarks was that the people there present might submit to being bullied. plun- dered and driven over; but an insult to the dignity of Santa Clara was something which they could not and would not endure, and for . which noone but blood could atone. Having settled this point, they proceeded to discuss the ways and means of pechantae and carrying on the campaign, and here they found pra as Bob Slater expressed it, ‘‘up a stump.” They could not agree upon a leader, and they felt the need of some men who were personally interested in hunting down the outlaws. “If Dick Ames was here,” said Slater, “we mought make a start tol’able suddent.” ‘“Who is Dick Ames?” asked Mr, Corum. “A young man who manages the Kingpin Ranch, up on the Ferida range. He's gone to St. Louis to see his folks.” “T know him,” spoke up Bill Yards. “I saw him in St, Louis, and he'll be comin’ along right soon, if he ain’t out here a’ready.” “Bully fur you, hub!” exclaimed Slater. “Seems like you are bound to git in on time, allthe while. He is a right peert young feller, is Dick Ames, and Mr, Lum ey, who owns the Kingpin Ranch, has told him to spend what he pleases to clean out Blackhawk and his buz- zards. He'll be glad enough to jump in, when Be Snows that Santa Clara has took holt of the to) “That's jist the game he wants to chip into,” remarked Bill Yards, A horse stopped at the ‘‘ Happy Home,” and the next moment Dick Ames batered the bar- room, Attired in a blue flannel shirt, heavy cor- duroy trowsers tucked into tall boots, and a broad felt hat, with a belt that held two revol- vers and a knife, he was quite different in ap- rance from the neat young gentleman Bill ad met in St. Louis, but was no less a fine specimen of fresh and vigorous manhood, * He greeted heartily all who were present, and fastened on Bill Yards at once, “Here you are, Bill, my boy,” said he, ‘I am glad to see that you are right side up with care, Haye youheard anything of either of our birds?” “One of ’em struck this town a while a oul and struck it pretty hard,” replied Bill. ‘‘ But these gen’lemen can tell little tea party than I can. The men of Santa Clara were quite willing to tell the story, and Dick Ames was speedily informed of all the facts connected with the recent raid, and of their intention to awake their lethargy and punish the ‘‘ soothless you more about that
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- ; ts £ _. After party in the ravine had finished and were en end some 24 Smart Sim, the Lad with the Leve! Head, insulters” who had given such a shock to the dignity of Santa Clara. “Tam glad to hear that you are going to work in earnest at last,” he said, ‘‘and hope you wil! stick to your good resolutions, lam quite as keen on the scent as any of you, and ropose to start on the trail as soon as possible. will bring eight men, well armed, from the | Kingpin Ranch, and Santa Clara ought to fur- nisb a dozen. If any money is needed, Mr, Lumley will supply it.” It was agreed that the start should be mado _ at anearly hour the next morning, and Dick Ames invited Bill Yards and Mr. Corum to ac- company him to his ranch, an invitation which they gladly accepted, as Bill delighted in the company of his friend, and the old man was not at all desirous of spending a night among the rough population of Santa Clara, They were obliged to be up and away long before daylight in the Oe =e necessity that was very disagreeable to Mr. Corum, but “nuts” to Bill Yards, who regarded himself as fairly launched on a career of adventure. When Dick Ames and his party reached the ‘Happy Home,” they found the Santa Clara battalion ready to move, making twenty men in all, not counting Bill Yards and Baldy, both of whom were sure that they ougbt to count. The force was provisioned and ammunitioned for a possible campaign of several days. Dick Ames was chosen as captain and Bob Slater as » lieutenant, and they set out for the hills, leay- ing behind Cornelius Corum, who was not in- clined to undergo the dangers and exposures of the expedition. They were destined to have better luck and an easier time than they expected. Shortly after noon they halted for dinner, and Baldy and another set out on foot to scout ~ around their temporary camp, and make sure that the coast was clear of enemies, Soon they came running back in a state of | high excitement, and the story they told raised a similar excitement in the camp, They had ascended a ridge a few rods away, and from its crest had looked down into a ra- vine where they saw three men eating and drinking, their horses picketed and feeding near them One of these men, they were willing to swear, was Birch Corum, otherwise known as Black- hawk, and the others must be members of his nd, Elated by this bey (Ste good fortune, Dick Ames and the Santa Cl sures to effect the capture of these wandering outlaws. ting the greater portion of his men 60 that they commanded three sides of Birch Corum’s camp, Dick Ames made a circuit with _ the rest, and reached the opposite side of the ravine. The arrangement was that when he - got in position the others should close in on the camp, and he would summon the party to sur- render. This plan was carried out successfully. The their dinner ng themselves with their pipes bottles, when @ stone rattliug arans at once took mea-— down from the ledge at his right attracted Birch Corum’s attention, He jumped up, reaching for his rifle, just as Dick Ames hailed him from the ledge. “Drop that, and throw up your hands!” or- dered the young leader. ‘‘ You are surrounded | by twenty-five men, and there is no use in try- ing to resist.” irech Corum looked around, arid saw that he was covered by rifles from both sides of the ravine, while armed men were advancing upon him from the right and left. “ All right!” he said. ‘‘ We’re your mutton.” There was one of the pat | of three who did not think so. Perhaps he not been drinking as heavily as his companions. He dashed away and was.soon lost to sight among the rocks and ts though several shots were fired after im “J don’t know who you are or what you want,” said Birch, as his captors closed in upon him. “If you want to go through us, you will be welcome to all the money you find.” “That is not the sort of game we°are play- ing,” replied Dick. ‘I believe you are Birch Corum. “That’s my name, for a fact. Anything against it?’ You also go by the nameof Black- “A little. hawk.” “Not if I know myself. The name I was christened with is good enough for me.” ‘You were in Santa Clara yesterday, and robbed a number of men at the ‘Happy Home.’” “Not much, I reckon you have got the wrong pig by the ear, stranger. I’m a poorbut honest miner, and so is my partner here,” ‘‘We are going to take you to Santa Clara, and give you a chance ‘0 abe your character, I assure yeu that you shall have a fair trial.” “ That’s all I ask, stranger,” said Birch, as he submitted to being tied, and cheerfully pre- pared to accompany his captors. Bill Yards approached this important prisoner as they were about to mount. The Jad was bursting with anxiety to learn the fate of Sim Brattle. “Say, mister, w’ot’s become o’ that boy you brought out from St. Louss?” he asked. “Yes,” said Dick, “tell us how to get hold of him, and we may see a way to help you out of this scrape.” “T wonder who you take me for, anyhow,” replied Birch, looking at them with an air of childlike innocence. . ““We take you fer Birch Corum, who robbed his father of a box of jewels in St. Louis, and brought away from there a boy named Sim Brattle.” “You are a little too much for me, stran- gers,” said Birch; “and I reckon we had better ride on to Santa Clara, and seitle this matter.” CHAPTER XIIL SIM IN A SCRAPE, | Sm Brartze settled down to his new life, under the direction of Cimmarone Joe, ve uietly and obediently. The prospect of os ting even” with Birch Corum seemed to be fad- i _ ing, and still more distant was the prospect of | | . |
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ee ee Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. “ fhaxing it hot” for Mr. and Mrs; Adgustus Ames, in St. Louis; but be was to learn tosheot, and in time he would go up into the Gunnison country among the “ Injuns,” and what more could any young fellow of reasonable ambition ask for? ‘ But his apprenticeship was not likely to be a Agel pleasant experience, judging by the way | it began, He was obliged to bring wood and water, and generally to do the drudgery of the camp. Al- though he was not yet allowed to act as cook to the band, be was told that he would soon be promoted to that position, and in the meantime was compelled to wash their rude dishes and cooking utensils. This was not a bit like hunting deerand killing “‘Injuns,” and when Sim laid down that night, on his hard bed of rock covered with leaves and a blanket, he was already weary cf this style of seeking adventures, In the morning, when he was called upon to face more tasks of wood-gathering, water-fet~h- ing, and washing and cleaning, he was qi..t9 disgusted, andiagain he began to think seriously of making his escape. There promised to be nothing to break the monotony of the morning’s routine of drinking, smoking, card-playing, and lounging about with an occasional quarrel over the cards, until Birch Corum announced his intention of going out on a cruise.” “ Rations seem to be getting scarce,” he said, “and I had better take a couple of men and pick up a sheep or two, unless we should run across some better game. We may take a notion to scout around Soda Spring, and see what show there is for making a strike in that quarter.” He selected two members of the band to accompany him, and told them to get ready, while he stepped to the back portion of the cavern, . Sim Brattle happened to be in that portion of the den, attending to some of the duties with which he had already beeome, disgusted, and he noticed that the outlaw chief as he passed him had a stealthy look and manner. Therefore he watched him just as stealthily. He saw Birch go around a point of rock into a dark corner, where he raised a stone and placed something under it, departing as ey as he had came. The three men went away, well mounted, well armed, and well provided with whisky, sa the outlaws seemed to regard as the staff of life, When they were well out of sight Sim stole back to the place where Birch had made his “cache.” He regarded that individual as fair ated for himself, and all his doings as worth ooking into. He found the place, raised the stone, and took out a small tin box. Opening the box, he found it nearly full of unset stones, that sparkled in the faint light that came through the rift. He could not judge of their worth, but was sure that they must be very valuable. ‘The time may come when that will be worth | 25 lookin’ after,” hé muttered, as he replaced the box and covered it with the stone. In the afternoon, when the outlaws in the cavern were dozing after their dinner and drink, and Sim Brattle was again occupied with his disagreeable tasks, a great excitement was caused by the sudden return of Slim Jim, one of the men who had accompanied Birch Corum on his “ cruise.” We came in afoot and nearly breathless. ‘Birch is took!” he exclaimed. ‘'He and Sam Chelly have both been gobbled!” Being pressed for particulars, he hastily ex- plained that the party were taking their ease in a ravine, after eating their dinner, when they ea found themselves surrounded by a body of men who largely outnumbered them, and who “had the drop” on them. He had es- caped at the risk of his life, but Birch and Sam, Linea 3 logy ” from the liquor they had drank, bad been captured and doubtless carried to Santa Clara. “Come on, boys!” shouted Cimmarone Jce, “there are enough of us left yet to clean out Santa Clara!” In a very brief space of time the remaining outlaws were armed, mounted and galloping down the mountain-path that led to the cavern, In the hurry and excitement of the moment it is probable that none of them gave a thought to Sim Brattle. lf they had thought of bim, it may be supposed that they would have gone i just the same, without taking any notice of im. The upshot of the flurry was, that the lad found himself free. More than that—he found within his reach a very valuable package of precious stones, which he could easily carry away. ‘ “T guess | might as well take them to the owner,” he said to himself as he turned up the stone and lifted out the tin box, Not that he knew the owner, or had the least idea of finding him; but a poor excuse is better than none, and he thought that it was right enough to rob the robbers. - He thrust the box into the inner pocket of his vest, and looked about for a pistol;, but the out- laws carried all\ their weapons upon their per- sons. He stuffed some cold meat into his coat- pocket and left the cavern. Knowing the route that the riders had taken, he followed it until he had made a considerable descent, and then struck off in another diree- tion, He was not going to get caught by any member of that crowd again, if he could help it, But he was not long in discovering that he was in quite as bad a predicament as any he had been in yet. Tt was one thing to be free, and quite another thing to know what to do with his freedom, He found himself in a tangle of mountain and valley, ridge and ravine, trees and under- growth, where there wus no road, nor even as much asa bridle-path, He must find « settle- ment, or before long he would perish of starva- tion; but he had not the most distant idea what course he ught to pursue to reach the abodes of men. He could judge of the position of the sun pretty fairly, and he had heard that the mosa
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. on the trees would give him a notion of the direction in which north was to be found; but, as he did not know whether he ought to go | north or south or east or west, that small amount of knowledge was worth nothing to him, There was one thing the sun told him—that | the day was passing, and it would soon be night. The chances were strongly in favor of his spend- =, eye night, at least, alone in the wilderness. ut this is a world of change, and there is no telling what will happen. As Sim was working his way along the crest of a ridge, a man sprung out from the conceal- ment of a rock, who seized him from behind, pinioning his arms, and threw him on the ground, face first. This was done so suddenly and unexpectedly that his hands were securely tied before he could begin to severe for his liberty. Then he was turned over, placed in a sitting posture, and found himself face to face with—Yarrup! There was no person whom Sim would have been more anxious to avoid than that same Yarrup. He hated the dirty little man, and knew that the feeling was returned with inter- est. He knew, also, from the grin of devilish satisfaction on his captor’s face, that he might expect no mercy at his hands. ““Yere you air ag’in, you young riptyle,” said Yarrup, with his mouth spread from ear to ear. ‘So you’ve been a-runnin’ off in the usooal way. Yd be glad to know how in thun- der you contrived to cut loose from that crowd. But you're too sharp to tell, you air.” Sim was too sharp to tell, as he saw nothing to be gained oy telling, and he kept his tongue egg his teeth and hig eyes on his ques- oner. “Seems like you don’s wanter talk,” resumed Yarrup. ‘ Wal, that ain’t no odds. On’y, ef you know anythin’ in the way of prayers, you mought as well be a-studyin’ of ’em up, ’cause you hain’t got long to stay in this world.” Sim said nothing, but looked at his persecutor ~ and would be glad to have the job of bury- im. f You ain’t sharp enough, though,” said Yarrup, “to guess w’ot kind of a Jarrupia’ you're gwine to git, I[tll be sech a weltin’ as 1l come within’ an ace o’ skinnin’ you alive— that’s w’ot it is. Yarrup rhymes with larrup, as I told yer afore, an’ now I'll prove it.” **'You had better not do that,” said Sim, “tor I will murder you when I go loose.” “Don’t you wish you ved get the chance? I ain’t gwine to make no half-way job o’ this, you young riptyle. When I git through whalin’ yer mean to string w’ot’s leff up to one o’ these trees, an’ that’ll be a nice mess fur the buzzards, Lemme see—thar’s some fine hick’ry switches nigh hand, an’ ll lay in a stock.” arrup walked away alittle distance, not go- ing out of sight of his victim, cut several strong and lithe hickory wands, and returned, trimming them carefully as he came, “Lemme now,” he said, as he looked down at the “T reckon Pll hev to change this young riptyle’s hands, an’ tie ’em around in front, so’s I whale him fur all be’s wuth.” Loosing his hands gave Sim achance to strug- | Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head, gle, and he availed himself of it. But Yarrup, who was much the stronger, had him at a dis- advantage, and soon tied him to suit his no- tion, but not before the lad had bitten his wrist severely. “That’s another count in the ’dictment,” said Yarrup, as he rose to his feet. ‘‘ You shall pay fur that, too, you p’ison cuss. Now to proceed to business, as the wolf said to the lamb. It’s a pity to spile them good clothes o’ yourn; but I reckon they kin stand it as well as you kin.” He laid his victim, face downward, on the crest of the ridge, and made one of his hickory whips whistle in the air, **T wouldn’t take a quarter section o’ the best land in Colorado fur this bit o’ fun,” said he. As Bobby Burns’ bas told us, ‘‘the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglee.” There was a rushing, crushing noe in the ad- jacent undergrowth, followed by the trampling of heavy feet. Yarrup dropped his switch, uttered a screech of terror, and fled. A large, dark and hairy form rushed across Sim Brattle’s body, turning him over in its pas- sage. As he looked in the direction it had taken, he saw Yarrup running sua at the top of his speed, pursued by a brown bear. Sim began at once to strive to secure his own safety. Bound hand and foot he could only use his el- bows and knees to work himself away from the spot; but he used these with all his might, squirming and crawling along the ridge. But the ridge at that point fell away quite sharply, and Sim in bis excitement had.crawled too near the edge. He fell over, and rolled to the bottom, where he lay insensible. But he soon regained his senses, and dis- covered, to his great delight, that his hands were free. In tumbling down from the crest of the ridge over the stones and through the scraggy bushes, the string that tied his wrists had been cut or broken, Though he had been sorely cut and bruised in his descent, and his face and body were bleeding and aching, it was joy enough to know that he could use his hands, = he hastened to cut the cord that bound his eet. The first use he’ made of his freedom was to ea up his feet and ran. It was possible that arrup might escape from the bear, and might | return to seek his rifle and his victim. It was possible, too, that the bear might come back that way and smell him out. On all accounts the vicinity of the place where he was captured was a place to get away from. It was near night, and he could not go far; but he made good use of the time while daylight lasted. When darkness closed in upon him he crawled under a clump of bushes, where, com- pletely exhausted, he fell asleep immediately and slept soundly until daybreak, When he set out in the morning, he soon came toa brook, where he washed himself and ate his breakfast of cold meat. On reflection he thought that he would do well to follow the course of the stream, as it would be likely to bring him to 6 settlement,” Fa iy View oe Staats Br pte sr fi 4 f }
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ar Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. 27 So, refreshed and hopeful, he went forward | where he and hiscompanfons were lodged in one again and made good time through the forest. CHAPTER XIV. LYNCH LAW. Tue party commanded by Dick Ames rode back toward Santa Clara, Birch Corum and his partner, bound and tied to their horses, being placed in the midst of them. The capture was a great feather in tte cap of Santa Clara, and | the delegation from that town were loud in their | expressions of self-praise. Dick Ames, however, kept asharp eye on the prisoners, and was by no means sure that they were “‘ out of the woods,” When they were abouta mile and a half from Santa Clara he ordered a halt at a point where the road they were following passed through a narrow ravine or canyon. ‘* What's this for, Cap?” asked Bob Slater. “There were three men in the party we sur- prised,” replied Dick, ‘‘and one of them got away. Of course hehastened tocarry the news to the rest of the gang, and it may be that they were not far off. They are a desperate set, as you have cause to know, and the chances are that they will try to gat these two out of our hands by attacking us on the way, or by mak- ing a raid on Santa Clara to-night, It seems to me that we had better block their game by meeting them where we have a big advantage.” “Your head is level, Cap,” said Slater, Dick sent all the horses and the two prisoners to the lower end of the canyon, leaving Baldy and Bill Yards in charge of the horses, and put- ting two of his own men on guard over the pris- oners, with directions to shoot them rather than allow them to escape. The others he concealed at the head of the ravine, ready to receive the rest of the outlaws if they should follow the trail. ne result proved that he had calculated sely. As ihe sun was setting the clatter of hoofs was heard on the rocky road, and in a few moments the remainder of Blackhawk’s band, headed by Cimmarone Joe, came galloping into view. They were allowed to come within close range, and had almostentered the ravine, when the crack of Dick Ames’s rifle gave the signal and a rattling volley flashed out from behind the rocks and trees. It made an end of that outlaw organization. Those who were able to doso checked their horses as soon as possible, and turned and gal- loped away more Oe sed than they had come. Three were left dead in the road, and the others did not op away unhurt, “That was short and sweet,” said Dick Ames, when he had given orders for resuming the march, ‘Now our rear is safe, as they say in the army and we need not fear that Santa Clara will be worried by that gang again.” Birch Corum was quite downcast when he learned of the disaster that had befallen his band, and expressed a desire to talk about the terms that had been mentioned to him by Dick Ames; but he was informed that such matters | could not be discussed on the march, and he be- came silent and sullen, He was safely conveyed to Santa Clara, of the rooms of Dan Sprawl’s hotel. Two armed men were placed in the room with them, and two others at the door. As forthe remain- der of the citizens of Santa Clara, home had no charms for them, and they prolonged the ex~- citement by making a night of it at the “ Happy Home.” Cornelius Corum, who had been very nervous during the absence of the expedition, was rendered still more so by its early return, and en learned of the capture that had been made, He expressed no desire to see hisson, On the vay we he seemed to wish to keep as far away from him as possible; but there was one subject upon which he exp: himself freely = young Ames and Bill Yards, when he saw em. “So you have caught that wicked young man,” he said, “I have long been afraid that he would come to some bad end, and now it seems more likely than ever. Did he give up my jewels?” “*T understood him to deny that he knew any- | thing about them,” replied Dick. “Oh, but he does. How can he tell such a lie? Have you searched him?’ “Yes; but we found nothing of the kind on his person.” Make him tell ““He knows where they are. where he has hid them.” Dick suggested that Birch Corum did not seem to be the sort of man who could be forced todc | anything. “ Offer to let him go free if he will give them up. But there were others who might have some- er tosay in regard to that matter, and Ames could give the old man no hope, Birch Corum sent for the young leader, and offered to negotiate for the return of the jewels and the surrender of Sim Brattle, but was in- formed tbat all points would have to be settled by the entire body of the men who captured him, and that he would have his trial in the morning. The bar-room of the “‘ Happy Home,” which was also the office and common room of the hotel, was the place appointed for the trial, which was to be conducted in such a manner as ar good and lawful citizens present should de- cide. News of the capture had gone abroad, and ranchmen came riding in from the adjoining country to witness the proceedings. The room was crowded when Birch Corum and Sam Chel- ly were brought down, the formerstubborn and eflant, and the latter apparently indifferent to the whole business, Dan Sprawl was elected toserve as judge, and he made an Lad cae speech, in which he ex- horted the assemblage to preserve the peace of the country and uphold the dignity of Santa Clara; and informed the prisoners that they should havo a fair trial. “That’s all we want,” said Birch Corum. “If you keep your word, we are bound to go clear.” A jury of twelve men was chosen, half of them from Santa Clara and half from the neighboring country, and Bob volun-
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sale 0S saad SPL ee a sl i rae a _prisoner, if he was 28 Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head, teered to serve as prosecuting attorney. Then Judge Sprawl called for the witnesses, Dick Ames arose to say a few words, ‘* Before this trial goes any further,” said he, ‘*T would like to ma zens present. The principal prisoner, Birch Co- rum, was in St. Leuis not ong 850, and there he | stole from his father a valuable package of jewels, which he is supposed to have brought out here. At the same time he brought away from St. Louis a boy named Sim Brattle, in whom I am interested. In fact, it is very im- portant to mie, personally, to get possession of that boy. Mr, Cornelius Corum is now in Santa Clara, and I understand that he offers a reward of one thousand dollars for the recovery of the jewels. I can guarantee as much as that for the return of the boy. The question is whether, in consideration of those rewards, you will let Birch Corum go free, on condition that he shows us where to find the jewels and the boy, and promises to go away from this part of the country and stay away. Ilask that this propo- sition be put to a vote.” “Before puttin’ that p’int to a vote,” said Judge Sprawl, “we had better hear what tho prisoner has say about it. Maybe he moughtn’t accept those terms.” Birch Corum rose to answer. “As far as anything that happened in St. Louis is concerned,” said he, ‘‘it is clearly be- yond the jurisdiction of this crowd that calls tself a court, 1f J have brought any jewels out here, that is a matter between me and the man who has come after them. As for that boy, I admit that he came with me from St. Louis, and he was glad to come. He is well and safe, and anybody who wants him is wel- come to him, I don’t admit any sort of guilt, but, to save trouble, I am willing to accept the proposition that has just been made, and to carry it out in good faith.” Bob Slater rose to reply. The substance of his remarks was that he was opposed to every kind of bargain and sale ina court of te such as he spppaees that court to be. The proposition of Captain Ames, though well meant, was against law—clearly against law—and ought not to be listened to, ore than that—and here the orator brought his fist dora foeaibiy. Seen iS pamat ae against the ity o n ara. G) me the man Let aghben a to had not only been repeatedly guilty o we and sedans but had lately offered the ple of Santa Clara, and the town which they ad known and loved so long and so well—here the speaker became pathetic—a deadly insult. His crimes, among which that insult should be counted, called for the severest and promptest punishment, and the speaker hoped that the citizens present would do their duty, as men who had feelings to protect, as well as lives and pro} proposition made by Dick Ames was put to a vi and was rejected by a large majority, Bont i Clara voting solidly against it, ; itnesses were again called for, and here a) serious difficulty presented itself. There was) no person who could identify Birch Corum as Bob Biater’s speech carried the crowd. Tha 6 a proposition to the citi- | the leader of the band that was known as Blackhawik’s gang, and Sam Chelly as a mem- ber of that gang. Nobody had the slightest doubt that they were what they were charged with being; but positive proof is imperatively demanded by the American mind, especially when there is a jury to pass upon it. 0 posi- tive proof was forthcoming. The members of the band had always been masked when they carried on their plundering operations, and the face of their leader, in particular, had never been seen, It was an accepted belief that Blackhawk ond Birch Corum were the same person; but, after all a belief is not a fact. After Bob Slater had called several witnesses, who could only testify to their belief, he got angry. “ What’s the use 0’ foolin’?” heasked. “Every- body knows who and what these men are, and what everybody knows is evidence enough for us.” “T ain’t so sure of that, Bob,” said Judge Sprawl, ‘‘Itis our duty to git at the facts by legal proof, and tnar must be somebody ahout bee who kin say that Birch Corum is Black- awk, and the leader of Blackhawk’s gang.” “ Tcan,” said a faint but resolute voice, and the crowd parted to make way for this new wit- ness. It was a boy, whose clothing bore evi.lence of rough usage in the woods and hills, and whosa face was pale and scarred. He was almost breathless from exbuustion, “It is Sim Brattle!” exclaimed Bill Yards, as he pushed forward to greet his“friend; and Birch Corum opened his eyes wide as he saw the “ young rattier.” “Hooray! We're all right now!" shouted Bill Yards, and tears of joy came into his eyes as he squeezed the hand of his “ pardner.” Sim was givena seat, and, after he had rested a little, was requested to tell his story, ' His evidence was just what was wanted. He knew that Birch rum was Blackhawk, be- cause that individual had told him so in St. Louis, and had boasted of the fact. He bad been a prisoner in the mountain den of Black- hawk’s band, and iuad seen Birch Corum there, acting and recognized as their leader. He had also seen Sam Chelly there. “ Hey you got any spite ag’inst Birch Corum, youngster?” asked Judge Sprawl. ‘He has gi’n me to understand that he treated you well, and left you safe and sound.” “Did he, though?” replied Sim. ‘It’s no thanks to him that I’m here and alive. He was for havin’ me strangled or knocked in the head —anythin’ to git rid of me.” As soon as the lad bad finished giving his tes- timony, Dick Ames and Bill Yards, who had ceased to take a lively interest in the trial, hur- ried him off to the kitchen of the ‘ Happy Home,” where they provided him with refresh- ments, and made him tell his story with fuller details. The tale was not completed, when they beard the noise of the Santa Clara crowd. be jury had centr agreed upon its verdict, and the crowd had gone out to execute the judgment of the es and had returned to moisten their parched throats, -
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= Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. — When the three friends entered the bar-room they found Dan Sprawl politely and An thetically informing Cornelius Corum of the aa 5 3°71 ie his only son. . t jewels” © give up my package of jewels asked the old man. “Nary give up,” replied Sprawl. “Then you have murdered him. You should have given the poor boy achance. If he had had a chance, he might have told you where to find m eon = “What would you give for that bit of pro- perty, mister?” asked Sim Brattle. **] offered a thousand dollars,” replied the old man, ‘‘ for their return and the conviction of the thief; but now, under the circumstan- ces—' “One thousand ducats is what you can git ‘em for, and not a cent less,” said Sim, produc- ing the tin box he had brought from thecavern. ‘God bless you, my son! Give them to me, and I will pay you in St. Louis.” ‘* Cash down, or no trade.” Cash down it was, and Cornelius Corum se- cured his precious box of jewels. ‘‘So that wicked young man has really been banged,” fe ssid, ‘ Well, I was sure there would be an Indian war or something of the kind. Dear me! he is the only member of my family who ever went off that way.” “ His father will be likely to go off the same way,” remarked Dan Sprawl, “if he don’t make tracks for St. Louis and stay there close.” The old man took the hint. CHAPTER XV. THE TANGLE UNTWISTED. Mr. AND Mrs. AuGuUsTUS AMES were seated in the ‘palatual mansion” of which Sim Brattle had boasted to his friend, discussing their position and prospects. “There is nothing more to worry us, m love,” said he, ‘‘The report of the referee will be confirmed by the Probate Court to-morrow, and we will have a good addition to our income for six years at least, and we need not look ahead any further et the present.” ‘For that,” she said, ““we may thank your sharpness and forethought in securing the boy who so strongly resembled our dear Arthur, and usi g him as you did,” ‘We must also thank your courage and de- cision of character, my love. [must confess that the boy was a little toosharp for me; but you knew how to deal with him. When we found him on our hands, and he persisted in his determination to stick, ashe said, [ really did not know bow I was going to get out of the scrape. But you camo to the rescue, and quietly put. him out of the way.” “Far enough out of the way too,” said Mrs. Ames. ‘I do not think there is any danger of his coming back to bother us,” The door bell rung, and a servant announced the visitor as Mr. Richard Ames. “That poverty-stricken nephew of mine,” said Augustus Ames, ‘“ Really, now, [ do not take the least interest in my brother’s good-for- nothing family, and they have no right to bother me,” Pie had better see him,” suggested Mrs. mes, ** fT suppose he wants to borrow money.” “Tf he does, you need not lend it to him. We can treat him coolly, and soon get rid of him, Show bim in, Kate.” Mr. Richard Ames did not have the appear- ance of a person who wanted to borrow money, He was well dressed, healthy and hearty, and seemed to be well fed and well to do, “Dear me, Richard!” said Mr. Augustus Ames, ‘I would not have known you, Why have you kept away from us so long?” “You gave me no special inducement to visit you,” replied Dick. ‘* At least, there wasno in- vitation.” “T supposed that you were sore about your uncle’s will; but I hope you have got over that unpleasant feel ng.” \ “Tt does not worry me at all, sir. I hope you are satisfied.” ‘Quite so, Richard. I have had a sufficient allowance ordered for our dear Arthur until he comes of age, That is, the order will be made to-morrow. Are youengaged in any business?” ‘*T have been managing a sheep farm in Col- orado during’ .the past two years, and am reasonably: prespereus,, Speaking of Arthur sir, I calledto ask you whether you have heard from him lately.” “ Not for a week or so,” replied Mr. Ames, and his answer was strictly within the limits of truth. ; “Where is ke now?” “T sent him westward, on a little trip, for the sake of his health, which was rather deli- te, . “Tcalled to ask you about him,” said Dick, “ because some news I have brought from Col- orado is highly important, if it should prove to be true.” “What news is that, Richard? asled Mr. Ames, who was sericusly alarmed by his nephew’s words and manner, * Just before I left there I heard of the sud- den death of a young fellow named Arthor Ames, At least, he passed by the nam» of Ar- thur Ames, and gave that as his name befire he died. I wasspoken to about him on the sup- position that he might be a relative of mine.” Augustus Ames’s face grew brighter. If the boy who had been sent away in charge of Birch Corum was dead, there was surely noth- ing more to bother bim. “Your news cannot be true,” he said. “If Arthur bad died, I’d have heard of bis death be- or now from the person who had charge of im, ‘*But the boy went by the name of Arthur Ames,” Dick insisted. “T hope, Richard—thongh I am sorry to be eutaes to make such an insinuation—I do really hope that you are not prompted in this matter by a desire to get possession of your cousin Arthur’s property.” ‘“‘T have never given any evidence of such a desire,” replied Dick. ‘The wish is often father to the thought,” severely remarked Mr. Ames, “You may take it as you please, sir; but it
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‘ Lscasc wad i co, Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. is actually my belief that my cousin Arthur Ames is dead.” “That is enough, young man. I understand your motive now, and I assure you that you will not be able to practice any imposition upon mé. This interview is at an end.” Augustus Ames rose indignantly, and just. then the door bell rung again. The servant announced two boys who wished to see Mr. Ames, That gentleman and his wife lookedat each other, and hesitated. But they need not have | hesitated, as the two boys bad followed the | servant closely, and Sim Brattle and Bill Yards boldly entered the room. r, Ames was dismayed and dumfounded. He did not know what to do or to say. That pest of a boy was not dead, but had returned to St. Louis, and all bis plans were spoiled and his fine ets ruined. His wife, however, was equal to the occasion. She pares forward, with a smiling face, extending both her hands to Sim. ‘Here is our dear Arthur!” she exclaimed. * What brought you home so soon, my precious? Your cousin Richard has been frightening us with a sad story of your death.” Sim lajd his forefinger against the side of his nose, and looked up at her knowingly. “That won't work, old lady,” he remarked. “Why, my dear Arthur, what do you mean?” **T mean that I don” trust any fat woman again in this world of sin and sorrow—not much. That dear Arthur business has gone You shut down on ita little too , and it’s played. You don’t ketch this b twice with the same chaff.” “Dear me!” she exclaimed, ‘‘has the boy gone crazy?” “Not this time,” replied Sim. ‘‘My head took a twist a while ago; but it is level enough now. I’ve come out of the kinks, and am goin’ in for a square deal.” “ That's the ticket for soup, Simuel,” remark- ed Bill Yards, Mrs. Ames was fairly at her wit’s end. glimmerin’ as the t says. shar “Do you understafd this, Augustus?’ she asked. ‘I am quite bewildered.” “He understands it well enough,” said Dick. ‘‘ He understands that my cousin Arthur | Ames died some time since, and that he used | this boy, Sim Brattle, to practice an imposition upon the next beirs, He understands that Sim Brattle was then kidnapped and put out of the way insuch a manner as was likely to lead to his death. He understands that his swindling scheme has been discovered and can be easily exposed, and that you are both in danger of the penitentiary. Do you think you had better apply to the Probate Court for that order to- morrow, Mr, Augustus Ames?’ Mr. Augustus Ames said nothing. “Instead of doing that, you had better come with your lawyer to meet Mr. Brennan in the morning, to make arrangements for settling your accounts and turving over the estate to the rightful heirs, And I want you to under- stand that no compromise will be allowed. You must pay up in full, or be treated asa criminal. Come, boys; let us go home.” An hour afterward Dick Ames and the two boys were at supper in his mother’s house, The faces of all were bright and cheerful. “‘T am sure,” said Amy, “that Sim would never have thought of doing such a thing if be ue supposed that we would be harmed ry it. “Of course I wouldn’t,” replied Sim. ‘It was only a lark anyhow. But I am glad I gota chance to make it hot for that fat woman on Choutean avenue.” “Tf it had not been for your ‘lark’,” said Mrs, Ames, ‘“‘it might have been a long time before we learned how we were being swirdled. Iam glad that you are bere safe and well, and I would like to know what you two boys think of doing now.” a a5 oo Dick has got to go back to the ranch afore long to settle up things,” said Bill, ‘‘and he says that I may go with him.” “As T've ge a thousand dollars cash capital,” said Sim, ‘I believe I will go out there too, and grow up with the country.
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BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY. 252 Denver Doll’s Device; or, The Detective Queen, By Edward L. Wheeler. 253 The Boy Tenderfoot: or, Roaring Ben Bundy of Colorado. By Capt. Mark Wilton. 254 Black Hills Ben; or, Dutch Jan on the War- Path. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson. 255 Jolly Jim, Detective; or, The Young Protege’s Victory. By Charles Morris, 256 Merle Monte’s Last Cruise; or, The Sea Robber at Bay. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 257 The Boy Chief of Rocky Pass; or, The Young California Pards, By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain. 258 Denver Doll as Detective. By E. L. Wheeler. 259 Little Foxeye, the Colorado Spy. By Oll Coomes. 260 Skit, the Cabin Boy. Ry Edward Willett. 261 Blade, the Sport; or, the Giant of Clear Grit Camp. By T. C. Harbaugh. 262 Billy, the Boy Rover. By Col. P. Ingraham. 263 Buster Bob’s Buoy; or, Lige, the Light-House Keeper. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, 264 Denver Doll's Buckskin the Sport. By E. L. Wheeler. ‘ar ner; or, Big 265 ally, the Baggage Boy: or, The Young Railroad Detective. Ky 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 Deadshot Dandy; or, The Rio Marauders. By Col. Prentiss Ingrabam. 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. By Ol! Coomes. 272 Kit, the Girl Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh. 273 The Girl Rider; or, Nimble Ned’s Surprise. By Jos. KE. Badger, Jr. 274 Dead Shot Dandy’s Double; or, Benito, the Boy Pard. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 275 Fred, the Ocean Waif; or, The Old Sailor's Protege. ik Charles Morris. 276 Deadwood Dick Trapped; or, Roxey Ralph’s Ruse. By Edward L. Wheeler. 277 ‘The Idiot Boy Avenger; or, Captain Wild-Cat’s Big Game. By Albert W, Aiken, 278 Arizona Alf, the Miner; or, Little Snap Shot's Luck. By T. C. Harbaugh. 279 Colorado Jack, the Tiger; or, The Ghost of the Trailer, By Frederick Dewey. 280 Dead Shot Dandy’s Last Deal, or, Keno Kit's New Role. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 281 Ned, the Boy Pilot; or, The Pirate Lieutenant's Doom. By Jack Farragut. 282 Buck Hawk, Detective; or, the Messenger Boy’s Fortune. By Edward L. Wheeler. 288 Roving Sport Kit; or, The Ghost of Chuckaluck Camp, By Edward Willett. 284 The Showman’s Best Card; or, The Mad Animal Tamer, By Capt. Fred. Whittaker, 285 Old Rocky's Pard; or, Little Ben’s Chase. By Buckskin Sam. 286 Dick, the Dakota Sport. By Charles Morris. 287 Ned, the Bo; pg 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. 290 Rube, the Tenderfoot; or, the Boys of Torpedo Guich. By Major E. L, St. Vrain. 291 Peacock Pete, the Leadville Sport; or, Hawk, the Boss Miner. By Albert W. Aiken. 292 Joe Morey, the Night-Hawk; or, the Black Rider, By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. 298 Dwarf Jake, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon’s Man-Hunt. By Edward Willett. 204 Dumb Dick’s Pard; or, Eliza Jane, the Gold Miner. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 295 White Wing, the Ferret Flyer, By Chas. Morris. ) Grande | 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. 298 Daisy Doll's Dash; or, The Ten Colorado Pards, By T. C. Harbaugh. 299 The Balloon Detectives; or, Jack Slasher’s Young Pard. By Harry Enton,. 300 Deadwood Dick's Mission. By E. L. Wheeler. 801 Dandy Duke, the Cowboy. By Major E. L, St. Vrain. 802 Big Benson’s Bet. By T. C. Harbaugh. 808 Tbe Hotel Boy Detective; or, The Grand Central Robbery. By Charles Morris. 804 Bald Head’s Pard; or, Creeping Cat’s Cunning, By Buckskin Sam. 305 Dusky Dick’s Duel; or, The Demon's Trail. By Harry Hazard, 306 Spotter Fr'tz; or, The Store-Detective’s Decoy. By E. L. Wheeler. 807 Nick, the Boy Sport; or, Three Plucky Pards, By Major E. L. St. Vrain. 308 Double-Fisted Mat: or, The Mystic California Giant. By Jos. EB, Badger, Jr. 309 Old Graybeard’s Boy; or, The Girl’s Ruse. By Cag Dunning Clark. 810 Kit, the Girl Captain; or, The Mad Sailor's Legacy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 811 Frio Fred in Texas. By Buckskin Sam. 812 The Detective Road-Agent; or, The Miners of Sassafras City. By Edward L. Wheeler. 318 Honest Jack’s Protege; or, The Dwarf’s Scheme, By Philip 8. Warne. 314 Clip the Boy Sheriff; on, The Two Crooks of Montana. By Edward Willett. $15 Tom, the Arizona Sport: or, Howling Hank from Hard Luck. By Major E. L. Sv. Vrain. 816 The Street Arab Detective; or, Dick Dorgan’s Double Dealing. By Charles Mortis. 817 Buckskin Ben of Texas; or, Single Eye’s Plucky Pards. By Buckskin Sam. 818 Colorndo Chartie’s Detective Dash; or, The Cattle Kings. By Edward L, Wheeler. 319 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. $22 Fred Flyer, Detective; or, Abe Blizzard on Deck. By Charles Morris. $28 Dead Shot Ike in Montana; or, Hez Helper, the Yankee Pard. By Roger Starbuck. $24 Kit, the Denver Sport; or, The Bonanza Miner King. By Edward L. Wheeler. $25 Dusky Darrell the Camp Detective; or, The Dandy’s Daring Dash. By Edwin Emerson. 826 Roy, the Boy Cruiser; 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, By W. J. Hamilton. 829 Dave, the Colorado Wrestler. By Maj. E. L. St. 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 8 yuck,
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T= 332 Dakota Dan in Canyon City; or, Colorado Kate's Check. By Philip S. Warne. 3833 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. 3.5 Ben Bandy, the Boss Pard; or, The Plucky Parson. By J. Stanley Hen‘ lerson. 836 Fred, the Sport, in Brimstone Bar Camp; or. The Boston Wrestler’s Confederate. By Ed. L, Wheeler. 337 Daisy Dave the ig ta) Galoot; or, The Boss of Dead Line City. By T. C. Har baugh. 838 The Gold Bar Detective; or, Iron Ike, the Solid Man. By Major E. L. St. Vrain. 339 Rardo, Lag eed Gypsy; or, Reckless Rolf’s Re- volt. By Wm. G. Patten, 340 Billy Bubble’s Big Score; or, Tim, the Tramp. By Charles Morr 341 Colorado Steve’s Dash; or, Old Buncomb’s Sure Shot. By Philip 8. Warne. 842 Snap-Shot Sam; or, Neda Norris’s Nettle. By Bucksin Sam. 3843 Mike, the Bowery Detective; or, Peleg Prancer of Vermont. By Edward L., Wheeler, 344 The Drummer Sport; or, Captain Dasher’s Droll Dilemma. By Edward Willett. 345 Jaques, the Hardpan Detective; or, Captain Friseo the Road- .geut. By J.C. Cowdrick,. 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 -Shoo’er Frank; or, Tae Young Texan Pards. By Buekskin Sant. 849 Buck the Miner; or, Alf, the Colorado Guide. By Maj. E. L St. Vrain. 850 or, The Detective’s L. Wheeler. ed the Slab City Sport; Big Scoop. By FE 351 Rocky Mountain Joe; or. Dagon Simplicity on the War-path, By Col. T, H. Monstery. 252 New York Tim; or, T e Boss of the Boulevard. By Charles Morris. 353 The Girl Pilot; or, Ben, the Reef-Runner. Roger Starbuck, 854 Joe, the Boy Stage-Driver; or, Nick Hicken’s Cunning By Maj E.G St. Vrain, 855 Texas Frank’s Crony; or, ‘fhe Girl Mustang Rider. By Bucks in Sam. 356. Idaho Ned, Detective: or, The Miners of Tarpot City. By Edward L. Wheeler. 857 Gur, the Boy Miner; or, Rocky Mountain Bill. By Colonel Pren iss Ingraham. 858 Jersey Joe, the Old Tar; or, the Wrecker’s Protege. By Mrs. Orin wee! 859 Dandy Dick's Dash; or, Tie By Olli Comes. 860 Jim's Big Bonanza; or, Jake Dodd and His Gang, 1y W. J. Hamilton. 361 Oregon Phil, the Sport; or, The Marshal of Two Bits. By Philip S. Warne. 862 Kit, the Bootblack Detective; or, From Phila- delphia te the Roekies. By Edward L. Wheeler. 363 The Ocean Racer; or, Trusty Tom, the Tar. T. C. Harbaugh. 864 Fritz’s Old Score; or, Sib Cone’s Right Bower. By Ned Buntline, 865 Crack Shot nye Be or, fo Masked Rider. By 1 Colonel Prentiss By Boy Cattle - King. By 466 Gold Dust Rock, the Whirlwind of. the Mines. By G. Waldo Browne. 367 Fred’s Bold Game; or, The Cave Paul Bibbs. 868 Jim, the Sport in Wake-up: or, eee Fan to the Front By Edward L. Wheeler, 369 Captain Blake’s Jonah; or, Harry, the Cabin Boy. By Roger Starbuck. 870 Denver Kit’s Double; or, The Giant Miner of the Gulch, By Major H. B. Stoddard. 371 Blue Blazes Dick; or, Danger Doll of Dynamite. Fy T. C. Harbaugh. 372 The Sea Cat’s Prize; or, The Flag of the Red Hands. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 873 Larry O’Lynn’s Dash; or, Kyle, the Renegade. By Joseph F, Henderson, Jim, the Sport’s Big Boom; or, The Bonanza King’s Rival. By Edward L. Wheeler. 375 Bowery Bob, Detective; or, Bianca, the Tam- bourine-Girl. By Jo Pierce. Ruckskin Dick’s Clean Sweep; or, Jonathan Jenks’ Still Hunt, By Col. Asthur ¥. Holt. 377 The Deadwood Sports. By Lieut. 8. G. Lanai. 873 B-onco Billy. the Saddle Prince. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 9 Dick. the Stowaway; or, 4 Yankee Boy's Strange Cruis®. By Charles Morris, Young Dick Talbot; or, A B y’s Rougb and Tumble Fight from New Ycrk to California. By Alvert W. Aiken, Dandy Bill’s Doom; or, Deerhunter, the Boy Seout, By Oll Cooms. 2 Wide-Awake George, the Boy Pioneer, Willet. Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, Brimstone Bill's Booty; or, Mariposa Marsh at Dead Man’s Gulch By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. The Boy Tramps; or, The Rougbs of Demo Hollow. By J, M. Hoffman. 5 The Mentana Kid; Little Dan Rock’s sion, By Merris Radwiug. The Boy Detectives; or, Broker Blondin’s Dig Rewird. By T.C. Harbaugh. 888 The Pony Express Rider; or, Buffalo Bill’s Frontier Feats. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 389 New York Biil, the Dodger; or, Two Boys Who Were “ Bounced.” By Edward Willett. 390 The Ticket-of-Leave’s Trick; or, Spring Ftecl, King of tbe Bush, By Juseph E. Eadger, Jr, Ready July 1. 391 Charley Skylark, the Sport. Bb. Stoddard. Ready July 8. A New Issue Forry Wedvex ay. Treasure. By 874 876 By Ed, By Majer Henry Brapiu's Pocker Lipeary is for sale by all News- dealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on re- ceipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York,