Pluck And Luck (no. 114) (1900 08 08)
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si 3 JS LU COMPLETE STORIES OF ADVENTURE. E Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. entered as Second Class Matter at the New York Post Office, by Krank: Tousey. No. 114. | NEW YORK, AUGUST 8, 1900. Price 5 Cents. THE THREE DOoRs — 70 Ai HALF AMILLION IN GOLD BY JA'S.C .MERRITT.. > j Tm 4 ON > It was a critical moment; but the danger which threatened both the fair occupant of the carriage and the old man was suddenly averted by the bold action of a youth who, dart- ing from the sidewalk, seized one of the horses by the head and checked their speed.
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These Books Tell You Bvery A COMPLETE SET 1S A REGULAR ENCYCLOPEDIA! Each book consists of sixty-four pages, printed on good paper, in clear type and neatly bound in an attractive, Hlustrated f @lost of the books are also profusely illustrated, and all of the subjects treated upon are explained in such a simple manner that am ehild can thoroughly understand them. Look over the list as classified and wee if you want to know anything about the subj ot mentioned. — ve ais THHSE BOOKS ARH FOR SALH, BY ALL NEWSDEALERS OR WILL BE SENT BY MAIL TO ANY ADDRES @ROM THIS OFFICER ON REGHIPT OF PRICE, TEN CENTS HACH, OR ANY THREE BOOKS FOR TWHNTY-FLV @ENTS. POSTAGH STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. Address FRANK TOUSBY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, N. ¥ em aS SY A NESTE EE mo MAGIC. No. 2. HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The great book of magic a card tricks, containing full instruction of all the leading card tri of the day, alsoutheunost popular magical illusions ag performed our leading magicians; eyery boy should obtain a copy of this bo. as it will both amuse and instruct. No. 22. HOW PO DO SECOND SIGH'T—Heller’s second ‘si explained by his former-assistant, Pred Hunt, Jr. Hxplaining b the secret dialogues were carried on between the magician and boy on the stage; also es all the codes and signals. The authentic explanation of second sight. No. 43. HOW TO BHCOME A MAGICIAN.—Containing grandest assartment of magical illusions eyer placed before public.) Also tricks with cards, incantations, ete. SPORTING. . No. 21. HOW TO HUN AND FISH.—The most complete Q@unting and fishing guide ever published. It contains full in- @tructions about guns, hunting dogs, traps, trapping and fishing, ip Sag? with descriptions of game and fish, No. 26. HOW TO ROW, SAIL AND BUILD A BOATD—Fully illustrated. Eyery boy should know how to row and sail a boat. Wull instructions are given ‘in this little book, together with in- atructiona on swimming and riding, companion sports to boating. No..47. HOW TO BREAK, RIDE, AND DRIVE & HORSE. A complete treatise on the horse. Describing the most useful horses Yor business, the best horses for the road; also valuable recipes for diseases peculiar to the horse. No. 48. HOW TO BUILD AND SAIL CANOHS.—A handy took for boys, containing full directions for constructing canoes No. 68. HOW TO DO CHEMICAL TRICKS.—Containing oy and the most popular manner of sailing them. Frlly illustrated. | one hundred highly amusing and instructive tricks with chemical By C. Stansfield Ticks. dj, By A, Anderson. Handsomely illustrated. " No. 69. HOW TO DO SLEIGHT OF HAND.—Containing oy FORTUNE TELLING. a ihe, fifty of the latest and best tricks used by magicians. Also contai No. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DREAM BOOK | in the secret of second sight. Fully illustrated. By A. Anderso Sontaining the great oracle of human destiny ;*also the true meéean- _No, 70. HOW “TO MAKE MAGIC TOYS.—Containing fi ‘ng of almost any kind of dreams, together with charms, ¢eremonies, directions for making Magic Toys and devices of many kinds. |} ; ead curious games of cards. A complete book. ot A. Anderson. Fully illustrated: SAC No. 43. HOW TO EXPLAIN DREAMS.—Every¥ody dreams,| No. 73. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH NUMBERS.—Shows Srem the little child to the aged man and woman. ig little book Many curious tricks with figures and the magic of numbers, By gives the explanation to all kinds of dreams, together with lucky Anderson. eh illustrated. : ; ; days, “Napol Oraculum’” the book of fate. No. 75. HOW TO BECOME A CONJURDR.—Conzatt See ee ee aLL TORTUNHS. Everyone ig desirous of | ‘Ticks with Dominoes, Dice, Cups and Balls, Hats, ete. Hmbraci knowing what his fature life will bring forth, whether happiness or | thirty-six illustrations. By A. Anderson. Sivery ewiheth or poverty. You can tell by a glance at this little No. 78. HOW TO DO THE BLACK ART.—Containing # col inced. ‘Tell your own fortune. ‘Tell | plete description of the mysteries of Magic and Sleight of Hap aq of Four feendes bese : rt oy many wonderful experiments. By A, Anderse . HOW strated. No. 76. TO THLL FORTUNES BY THE HAND —) , MECHANICAL. @ontaining rules for telling fortunes by the aid of the lineaof the | ~ FR wand, or the secret of palmistry. Also the secret df felling future} “No, 292. HOW TO BECOME AN INVENTOR.—Rvery & _By—A.| should know how inventions originated. This book explains a wventa by aid of moles, marks, scars, etc, Mudeteon: { all, giving examples in electricity, hydraulics, magnetism, opti once mechanics, etc., etc. The most instructive book p i No. 56. HOW TO BECOME AN HENGINERR.—Containing fi inatructions how to proceed in order to become a locomotive « gineer; algo directions for building a model locomotive; togeth with a fui] description of everything an engineer should know. No. 57. HOW TO MAKE MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.— directions how to make a Banjo, Violin, Zither, Aeolian Harp, Xy her with a brief ATHLETIC. No. 6. HOW TO BECOME AN ATHUIMTD.—Givingsfall ing @truction for the use of dumb bells, Indian clubs, parallel bare, horizontal bara and yariots other methods of developin healthy muscle; containing over sixty illustrations. ; become strong and healthy by following the ru {n this little book. No. 10; HOW TO BOX.—The art of se’ @ontaining over thirty illustrations of guards, wnt positions of a good boxer. Byery boy she ‘these useful and instructive books, am it will te: ithout instructor. : : ones HOW TO BECOME A GYMNAST metructions for all kinds of gymnastic sports and athletic ex enriehig thirty-five illustrations. By Professor W. Ma andy and useful book. ‘ ; Me Me NOW TO FHNCH.—Containing full instruction, for fencing and the use of the broadsword; also instruction in archery. Desdribed with twenty-one practical illustrations, giving the; beat positions in mone, A complete book. as ¥ No 61. HOW TO BECOMBD A BOWLER.—A complete ma’ ef bowling. Oontaining full instructions for playin all ke ‘| De, FY ov 5 “ defense made easy. s, and the differ- | id obtain one of for twenty aoa bandmaster of the Royal Bengal Marines, No. 59. NTERN.—Contai a description of the lantern, together with its history and inyer Also full directions for its use and for painting slides. _Handso illustrated, by John Allen, A No. 71. HOW TO DO MECHANICAL TRICKS.—Oonta complete instructions for performing oyer sixty Mechanical Tr By A. Anderson, Fully illustrated. LETTER WRITING. eh « ¥ NW oNo, 11. HOW TO WRITH LOVE-LETTERS.—A most ¢ , plete little book, containing full directions for writing love-lett é | and when to use them; also giving specimen letterm for both yo é and old. : ‘ly No 12. HOW TO WRITE LETTHRS TO LADINS.—Giv | complete instructions for writing letters to ladies on all subje, | also letters of introduction, notes’and requests, eae No. 24. HOW TO WRITH LETTERS TO GHNTLHME . Containing full directions for writing to gentlemen on all subje { also giving sample letters for instruction. ar = ‘No. 53, HOW TO WRITH LETTERS.—A Wonderful ue ard American and German games; together with rules and s ef sporting in use by the principal bowling clubs in ry States. By Bartholomew Batterson. er. ie TRICKS WITH CARDS. : Me. 51. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH CARDS,—Containing @xpianations of the general principles of sleight-of-h applicable te card tricks; of card facks with ordinary cards, and Tequirin -of-hand; of tric yolying sleight-of-hand, or the use o 0. : Serial ie Ah cards, By: se beste Haffner. © » illuatra- | book, telling you how to write to’ your sweetheart, your . é e : 4. a eee mother, sister, brother,-employer; and, in fact, verybody ‘an. ; ; aad as lee SURTY PRIOR WII CARD AP [A0 ithelana sada bane Gia book etna Cen NG. Tied OW 80 D0, FORTY TRICKS WITH @ARDS— tala tl mvtraetions for rita j sites erg erat ae oa Reagent” Sateen
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Complete Stories of Adventure. Issued Weekly—B iy Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Post Office, November 7, 1898. Entered according te Act of Congress, in the year 1900, in the office of the iabran ian : of Congress, Washington, D. C., by Frank Tousey, 24 Union Square, New York. No. 114. NEW YORK, August 8, 1900. Price 5 Cents. HE THREE DOORS HALF A MILLION IN GOLD. — “BY JAS. C. MERRITT. It was all the work of an instant. ; In another the young man had relinquished his hold on the Je ; ; | panting horses to a policeman who had come running up, and ; “Stop them, somebody! Stop them! Stop them! Help! taking the aged stranger tenderly by the arm, assisted him to. , help!” F i { i _ |vise. Then drawing him to the sidewalk, he had, before the It was” a rundway team on Broadway, in a ee, of New ‘lady in the carriage had even time to sce him, mingled with ork. ES ‘the crowd. An a elegant ‘aisvate coupe, drawn by a span. of high-metiled _ Who was he?” Lys with gold-mounted Harness, came tearing up the crowded | : Where was he? NE: 5. v re t like mad. i These questions were passed frem mouth to mouth, but so ee soupe was without a WE. and as it swayed from sid | suddenly ‘had the whole thing happened that no one seemed side, crashing and banging among the carts, drays, : cks. able ‘to tell. get ; OP uchien eliteles. which pressed about it, the head and dis The -coachman, who Sia EU ee left his horses, HOW! « sof 8 3 young and beautiful girl could be distinctly seen in, came running up and assumed their charge. ae fading twilight, thrust fear the window, with face as white’ ¥ In | ther ‘moment “the coupe rolled away, the crowd ates death 1 itself, calling aloud tor help. : persed, cand the trifling incident—for such a happening i noth. 7 ng more in New’ York City—became a: thing of the past. OK had any one been especially anxious to have found ihe ie an dashed into the thle thoroughfare, at the Bre brave youth who had sLonnor the kere they need, ie hay time at an old man, half blind and carrying a’ tin box gone far. y ve ie * ae oe himself by the aid ofa cane held in’ the} Even as Ay bystanders poked about to. discover’ what hi CHAPTER I. a tr is THE OLD COIN-DEALER. _* 55 * .
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THE THREE DOORS. “Are you burt, sir?” he asked, as they left the crowd behind them. “That was a bad fal! you had.” “Hurt, boy! hurt!” cried the old man in a tremulous voice. “J—I would have been killed had it not been for you. I ought to be ‘Very thankful, and Iam. May I ask your name?” _ - “My name is Harry Ashmore.” “Where do you live? I shan’t forget what ou; have done. 3 I—I am very poor, but I have my little savings, and I shall _ reward you later on.” The boy laughed. “JT guess we are both of us in about the same fix,” he said, lightly. “The fact is, I’m a stranger in the city, and I don’t live anywhere in particular. If you could spare me half a dol- y: lar now to get a meal and a lodging—mind, I do not ask it— we will call it square.” They had reached the corner of Reade and Centre streets now. Six o’clock Kad already sounded on the numerous whis- tles of the manufacturing establishments in that. crowded por- tion of the city, and the sidewalks were thronged with pedes- trians, all hurrying toward their respective homes. : Certainly the poorest dressed among these busy toilers was better clad than the old man with the tin box, and yet the gar- of the youth who now made this modest demand. The old man, pausing in his walk, leaned against an adjoin- ing railing and surveyed his companion from head to foot. “Indeed! And is it so bad as that?” he demanded. “Now : come to look at you——” f “TI look like a beggar, do 1? Well, J ain’t, and you needn’t put me down for one. If you think I have earned half a dollar, If not, I'll bid you good night and be off.” I didn’t say you looked Hike a "give it to me. 5 “Don’t be. hasty, young man. . beggar.” ‘ * © «But you meant it. I’m poor enough, Heaven knows, and, to ; the best or my knowledge, have not a friend or a relative in ‘the world, but I haven’t fallen as toe as that—not quite—vet.” The old man eyed him strangely. — “You are not eeauatated in New York?” he sexed at length. — xg “No.” , a “Where are youfrom?? | a es : _ “I came here from Chicago three months ago.” ( : “Why did you comé?”, “Because I was a fool.” of “You hoped to get employment?” * , “Yes, that was my idea.” “And you have failed?” : ‘ “Wailed miserably. I have tried everything. I have gone m door to door through the business part of the city,’ only to et with refusal from every one to ce I applied.” ‘ oe , rok August. ‘Tust his E ments which he wore were princely when compared with those |. | wondered how you managed ‘to keep soul and body. together.’ stumbled under the horses’ feet.” be off, my friend, for I have my night’s lodging to look’ up yet. Hi man’ Ss grasp | was felt on his arm. This last sentence was spoken with a eoraes fierceness. - The old man had thrust his head ‘suddenly forward, and was: now peering into Harry’s face. a “Don’t ask me,” returned the youth, drawing back. “I couldn’t tell youif I would. I was brought up by a man named — Reynolds in Chicago. I was not his son, as he often told me; — who I am I know no more than yourself.” / The old man’s'countenance fell. “Where is this Reynolds?” he asked, in a faltering voice. | “He is dead. He was a carpenter, and fell off a building and was killed.” : “4 “But he left a family—they may know?” “He left no one. He was unmarried; we lived alone ‘Wapather from the date of my earliest recollection until his death.” " “after he died you came to New York?” Ah a “That was it. I had nothing to live on, had never been taught any trade nor put to business, and I thought I might as well starve to death in one place as another—certainly I hit ~— it when I came here.” Re “Is it so bad as that?” “T have eaten nothing since yesterday morning.” “And you want work?” ; ai “The worst kind of way.” Bn Pe eee < 7 Neh ee, y - Again the strange look in the old man’s eyes. Se 3 “How would you like to work for me?” he asked. “I am not — rich, but I will pay you well, give you plenty to eat and a visas, to sleep. Ee ; f Bey. Ashmore broke into a hearty laugh. : ie “What, selling old coins?” He exclaimed. “Brom your années ance I shouldn’t think there was enough in that business. AGE ; re one, to say nothing of two.” gence! a “Ha! you know me?” Nae “T don’t know your name, but I have seen you standing be: | side your little boards with old coins tacked upon them, on the Vesey street side of St. Paul’s churchyard et I have often — 4 , “You have?” “Yes, many ‘a time. I recognized eon the moment The old man gave vent to a low chuckle. : “People don’t know as much as they think they ao, ‘some: times,” he muttered. “The day may come when old Peter Stanton will surprise them all.” “Shouldn't wonder,” replied the ether, lightly. = utd “But 1 must i You can keep your half dollar—I don’t want at, x i sues you need if more than TI do, after all.” — ie Be = He had turned, and was about. to rai 8 away, ‘when the old “Stop! I want you,” he whispered. er have eas id ung head and stout aes ao am getting too. old an ‘too
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We es aS So geal Instead, he beheld a new twenty-dollar piece of bright, yellow | gold. . CHAPTER II. . a JOE DOUBLEDAY RECEIVES A STARTLING PROPOSAL, ‘ “ERE you are, gents! here you are! a little article- required fone every family. Slocum’s patent needle-threader and thimble combined—something that no well-regulated household should | be without. It threads the finest needle with the coarsest cot- ton without the aid of glasses, and, one might almost say, with- out the aid of eyes. A child can operate it; an old lady of ninety, who is stone-blind, has been known to use it freely, for 4 it is the best, the simplest, the most useful little article ever offered to the public for the small sum of ten cents.” ‘a It was Joe Doubleday who rattled off this long harangue, and having reached a point where it was absolutely necessary for him to pause for breath, he stopped and began putting a piece of thread through one of Slocum’s patent needle-threaders and pulling it out again with great celerity in a vain hope of at- . tracting a crowd. | Now Joe eneleday lived on crowds. i ‘They had become to him as essential as the very air he _ breathed. - if Picture to yourself a young - fellow of trim, well-built appear- Ma ante, ‘dressed—it was the month of March—in a seedy suit of | gray cassimere of last summer’s pattern, without overcoat or Gloves; wearing low shoes all run down at the heel and out at the toe, and a rusty beaver—several hats behind the fashion— tilted rakishly on one side of his head. “Ada to the picture a little black bag slung across his back by f a strap, and one of ‘Slocum’s patent needle-threaders, ch ling March air, and you haye as accurate a representa- Joe Doubleday, the street fakir, as pen can give. hat there was anything especially peculiar about Joe h time of which we ee are Hundreds at still to-day. d cheek; a love for good whisky and a sportive lite: ie least desire whatever to work in order to obtain uries, Joe had led a lee a existence for more a cae agent, a an n attendant ina gaitline saloon, a—— t re’s the “use in further enumeration? In each and ion 1 which he had “eeupied Joe had — found Pelee tolling he had been forced to the street Lt res ae . > fae PERER DOORS. ; 3 he is in the act of operating, with hands fairly blue from | j ‘There we were hundreds of men just like him in New York City | - _| business. “A poor night for business,” he muttered, as he stood gn the corner of Chatham street and Chambers, watching the endless procession that hurried past him. had any time to spare to-night. what would attract them. try a song.” But Joe was not musical, and even if he had been, it is more than doubtful if a song would have proved an attraction to a New York crowd on that damp, chilling March evening—the “Seems as though no one By ginger! I wish I knew If I was only musical, now, I might evening upon which young Harry Ashmore drew the old coin- dealer from under the horses’ feet. He therefore began his usual harangue once more with an energy which betokened an empty stomach, and—we blush to say it, but truth compels us—a throat dry and parched for the want of a drink. : “Here you are, gents! The best, the cheapest little article that was ever offered to the public——” . Joe Doubleday stopped suddenly, and, thrusting his needle- threader into his pocket, began to move away from in front of the saloon before which his station had been chosen. The reason for this sudden action was to be found in a stout, comfortably-dressed middle-aged gentleman, with eyes con- cealed by a pair of green spectacles, who had paused at the r curbstone and, stood regarding him fixedly As he ‘began to talk. = “Another one of those blasted detectives!” muttered the a young man to himself. ‘“He knows I’ve got no license, and he’s es after me. That’s the way with those fellows. They won’t give a man a chance to make an honest living, and they are ready to ' nab-him the instant he attempts to go wrong.” He turned the corner of Chambers street, and was hurrying if away, when a hand was suddenly laid upon his arm. “How’s business, Mr. Doubleday? Rather pa I fancy, is ‘it i ks not?” te ‘It was the man with the green spectacles. . ‘With a few quick steps he had hurried to the fakir’s side. x “Business is all right if a@ fellow can only be let alone,” re- plied Joe, crossly, at the same time backing up against a wall. They had followed him up so closely that they even knew his name. F “Sold much to-day?” : “Sold what? I ain’t selling nothing.” “Slocum’s patent needle-threader.” “Oh, you go to grass! Mind your own business and I'll mind mine.” ‘ So ge , gw The man laughed. : ‘ St fear you don’t understand me, ay friend,” he said quietly. ; : ! YE have not the slightest disposition to interfere with your ns I simply want a young man of about your size and mental capacity for a delicate job. You have been named to me Pri as a suitable person—there’s my card.” , The card wasya plain bit of pasteboard, on which was im printed the words: ~ 4 z 4 “HamMMeEL & Co., “99 1-2 Chambers Street, “Reliable Servants Furnished.”
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ee aS THE THREE DOORS. Joe Doubleday ¢ stared at the man , doubtfally. have only to enter that carriage with me and all shall-be ex: . He Gea heard of Hammel & Co. before. plained. When you understand the nature of my proposition — ’ Their office, in fact, was a dingy, triangular building, at the} fully you can accept or reject it, just as you please.” i time of which we write, occupying the space at the intersection For a few moments Joe Doubleday hesitated. ; of Chambers, New Chambers and Oak streets, diagonally op- Let the business be what it might, he thought, matters. with posite to where he now stood. him could not be much worse than they were just at the pres: : Their business was that of an intelligence office, and to the | ent time. : mind of the wily street fakir, thoroughly familiar with all the “T’ll go,” he said, at length; “but mind, I’ll listen to nothing ins and outs of city ways, it had always been a mystery how! crooked—nothing that will lay me liable to the law.” : ‘4 such a business could, flourish in that locality, one of the most They entered the carriage together. P degraded New York can produce. When they alighted—and it was half an -hour later—they _ “What kind of a job do you want me for?” he asked, in a|found themselves opposite one of the princely mansions in = tone that seemed to imply that the compensation would haye | Fifth avenue, opposite Central Pash. i 4 to be exceedingly liberal to meet with any consideration on his Whispering to the driver to keep his horses moving, the man i part, with the green spectacles turned to Joe Doubleday, ae: stood “That’s something I will explain later,’ * said he of the green | shivering on the pavement by his side. ; a as. spectacles. ‘Do you see that carriage’ in front of our office During the entire ride scarce a word had been spoken. z door over there?” : Whatever might be the revelations of Mr. Hammel, it was | “Yes, 1 seit?” ; evident that he intended to disclose them at his own good. a “Tf you will consent to take a ride up-town with me I'll ex- | pleasure, and not before. plain what I want of you in a yery few words.” “Do you see that house?” he’ ‘whispered, pointing up at the “Are you Mr. ye pe i brilliantly-lighted windows beneath which they stood. — 2 } “That's my name.’ ’ “T see it,” replied Joe, nervously. “Whatthen?? = , “Then why not e&plain now?” es “Do you know to whom it belongs?” Poe ars “I prefer to explain in my own way. Understand me, Mr.| “No.” Doubleday, this is no trifling matter. If you consent to place| “I will tell you. It is the home of Mr. Alfred. Van Cortiana” yourself in my hands, and follow my directions implicitly, I} Joe Doubleday started. 3 ve acid guarantee that you shall be master of half a million of dollars| His companion had. mentioned the name of one of the ‘rich- “in less than three months’ time.” - .| est men in New York, known to every one ag many time a. _ “Half—a—anillion—ot—dollars! ” millionaire. Bee Ne, Sia RE, The street fakir leaned sre a against the wall and caught “Look. again,” whispered Mr, Hammel, ‘suddenly. “Wh oe if ana ‘else do you Sac oe se 2 gh tes ay ¥ ' “J—I don’t think I understand foul” he murmured. "surety ou have made a mistake?” | re “'Tve made no mistake whatever. I anow you and all ee gence “offies: “Look at 1g iin Joe Doubleday. "There—ade on oa see? She approaches the window now. Now she ‘is be oO leave the room—now she is ‘gone.’ eee: i: seat “Great Jehoaaii how lovely!” murmured Joe as | isappeared ; ¥ j f fy ty at, A, Spanaes atared’ at the Ce. in dumb ‘Amazement. % There could be no doubt that he understood whom he was oe o—not the least in the world. Sik aH! in the street ys an ore a ‘and ad- o%
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THE THREE DOORS. © ‘man gave another of his strange chuckles. h! it’s all right,” he replied. “Old Pete Stanton can be eral when be chooses, if people do call him a miser. worth more than twenty dollars to me.” ‘Then, with a sudden air of alarm, he added: ‘Don’t you even tell that I gave it to you, boy. I’m going to take you home with me; I live in rather a poor neighborhood, and it will never do for those about me to suspect that I am Other than what I really am—very, very poor. Come, will you accompany me? To-night you can eat and sleep. | when to-morrow. comes.” E ‘Harry dropped the 9a piece into his pocket somewhat - doubtfully. For the first time in his life hé felt that he had been the re- a eipient of charity, and somehow the feeling did not please him .at all. i 1 ae _ The closer he looked at the feeble old man before him, with | his dull, watery eyes, his withered face and long white hair, | ‘ he became that his mind must be affected, and that his talk of Deing able to employ him in any profitable undertaking was first his pride revolted at the thought of f being in any way 1olden to an utter stranger—and surely the condition of the ; oin-collector, if one might judge from his personal appear- e, could be but little better than his own. did paige reeset cause to sa cusen this opinion nd Grand, pepe one of the A a localities in all - ‘York. rae a ai ; why ee in green letters t upon a yellow ground an Italian barber plied his humble trade. cya aon ae mee Re ee conducted ict 4 jail, 5 aheped Aim fio. a room as 1, to all ‘appearances, as ee he “ais hy ‘ ae A} ie a cheap cot-bed My life: It will be | na te A ‘ | , time enough to discuss the work I mentioned, wanting you for q “which hung about his neck and shoulders, the more conyinced | | the basement was a ‘foulsmelling rag and bottle dabats | ent; on the “Aree story, to judge from the red and white | pole wh: h was thrust outward into the Street, and the 2 ancient coins—upon the top of one of these chests, the old man | 4 tries, as though he had been a millionaire all his life, with | nothing to do but travel about for pleasure in whichever direc- ce motioned to him to be seated with an air of great politeness, and lighting a cheap glass lamp, proceeded to secure the door by the aid of series of bolts and bars. “Bad folks about here,” he muttered. “They know about my old coins, and might get the notion they were money—d’ye see?” a RTS ype Harry did not see. And the more he talked with his strange host the more be- wildered and perplexed he became. At one moment he would complain bitterly of his poverty, at another he would hint that some day people would find out that he was not as poor as he seemed. In one breath he would mutter that he was only a poor old man almost ready for the grave, in the next he would rattle away about his travels in India, Egypt, China and other coun- | tion fancy bade him direct his steps. The meal which was placed before Harry Ashmore was, fru- § gal in the extreme. : P A loaf of bread, a pot of tea, a little oatmeal and nothing igh more. It was served on chipped and broken crockery, on a tuble j without a cloth. é _ And yet the boy enjoyed it. The old man had started a fire in the stove, which fe the room warm and comfortable. { To Harry, who for days had done nothing but tramp the. streets in vain search for employment never found, ube humble room seemed a veritable haven of rest. Then the conversation of the coin-dealer was most Jae ing. ; He had traveled much, he had read miatee and, what was: more, he remembered what he had seen and read. ; And when, something after ten 0 ‘clock, ‘Harry was shown to an attic, which was reached by means ofa ladder and a half. door in the ceiling, he stretched himself out upon a rough | straw mattress on the floor, drew over his tired frame an old oo ‘And ek as he lay there, his senses locked in n slimber, there ‘Seemed to creep over him after a time a certain consciousne that a all was not right in the room below. me seemed oe both see and ae PerRne merits abo
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6 THE. THREE DOORS. Wheto Fee Tt seemed as ‘owen’ the chests were filled with glittering coins similar to the one the old man had given him—an inex- naustible supply. It seemed—— Hark!. i What sound was that? It is a dream no longer, but a human voice which rings out below in one deep, soul-stirring cry: “My gold! my gold! They’ve stolen my gold!” He had actually heard it—there was no doubt of that. Broad awake now, Harry Ashmore sat bolt upright upon the mattress in his attic and stared about him. He was surrounded by total darkness. All was as silent as the grave. He listened. The cry was not repeated. Was it after all but a fragment of his dream? Lighting a candle, which the old man had given him upon - retiring, Harry, who had not removed his clothes, adyanced to the trap-door and raised it. The room below was in darkness. As he strained his ear at the open trap-door sounds of faint _ groaning could be heard. “There’s something wrong down there,” dropping upon the ladder, which was still in position, he de- he murmured, and _gcended several rounds. Turning and holding the candle-stick downward in such a _ manner that a feeble light shone upon ehincts: beneath him, a ‘. strange sight met his gaze, .. ‘ The three chests were open, the coin-dealer, with his white hair all streaming, lay face downward upon the floor, where, 3. phere and there, were scattered little piles of shining gold pieces, one of which—and it was the largest—the old man seemed to be trying to clutch with nerveless hand. CHAPTER IV. THE HOUSE OF THE THREE DOORS. , ae Iv was a house with three doors. : _ Not that there is in itself Spying so strange in this, for eee the pheese in ‘the street lines, finals smaller ia in ys | of j Parse, | a ouse ‘with ‘grees doors” ‘oecupied. the ener space dec by. Chambers, New Chambers and Oak sire af 4 \ f the old nansi ; “4 apartment, he presente his card to a clerk als 28 vit | presence of ‘an elderly gentleman, with heavy black bea asta black eyes, nee ‘sat. behind a MiSs coe Ss in a, ; streets opened ? ‘door connecting with "connected with the offices of Mr. Christanhen Wahaines spectable money-changer, who, for the benefit of the nume tradesmen in his immediate neighborhood, also did a banki business in a small way. es The second door was on the Chambers street side, and af forded entrance to the intelligence office of Hammel & Co., one - of the best known establishments of its kind in the city. The third door opened upon Oak ‘street, as narrow though not quite as dirty then as now. ; Above its dingy fan-light was painted in dark blue letters: Simon Duranp & Co.,: Private Detective Agency. It would: seem that the three firms of Christopher Walsh, Hammel & Co., and Simon Durand & Co. ought to be pretty good friends from the fact of their being near neighbors to a pre-eminent degree. my Yet it had been frequently remarked in the neighborhood, and by the clerks of the firms themselves, that the three pro. prietors had not only never been seen to speak to one another, but never even to meet. 4 | Mr. Watson, if he desired the services of a detective to look | up the affairs of a delinquent debtor, cer tainly never had bee known to apply to Mr. Durand, nor for a servant to his neigh: | bor Hammel. Mr. Durand showed an equal indisposition to patronize either i Hammel & Co. or Mr. Watson; and as for the poe es the ins | ‘ ) bi \ of his neighbors ‘to help him ee And yet only their’ partitions divided the threé offices, orig ally only so many rooms in the old house. Upon a certain mild afternoon in the latter ai. of Pebruary, & Co., an elezant private CALPE with liveried couebuien: the box and footman behind, rolled up to the Oak street door 2 the. old house, and a richly-dressed old gentleman a entered the detective office of Durand & Co. rit ihe; Pace a desk, ft The ‘card bore the name of Alfred Van Cortland, one of “th richest of New York’s millionaires. ; “ey desire to see Mr. Durand, ” he said, with a ‘atatale ae ‘i “Be good srigitahe if you please, to inform him that I am here.” f 7. The clerk, with one ‘quick ‘glance at ies card ar cae f retreated within an inner office. F ‘ : “Mr. Durand will see you now, sir,” he ik present turning. “Be good enough to walk inside.” EN Gre Following the clerk, Mr. Van Cortland was. ushered in
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THE THREE DOORS. For an instant Mr. Durand suffered his gaze to rest search- gly upon the face of his visitor, then opening a large book pon the desk, he pretended to read. : “I wrote you yesterday, Mr. Van Cortland,” he said, slowly, ae “that it was my desire to make to you a communication of im- ; portance if you would call on me to-day.” * “You did, sir. And as I have not. the pleasure of your ac- “quaintance, never even heard of you before, the letter struck eae as being a trifle strange.” A “Tt is a part of my pusiness to surprise people, sir.” _ “So it would seem.” _ “TI propose to surprise you.” sg “Indeed!” Mr. Van Cortland raised his eyebrows superciliously. At was nevertheless observable that he was uit, ill at y “Te. the head of the firm of Durand & Co. observed this, he "displayed no sign. : on) “You are a ‘rich man, Mr. Van Cortland, ” he remarked, ina casual way. 4 “and pray what is that to you, sir? Proceed to business, if : ml please. PY oy “This i is business. I wish to ask you what you are worth?” - “Perhaps you will be legs } to. answer | my question when I inform you that your tune has been amassed through fraud. Stop! don’t down, i say, and listen to me.” ace of deathly whiteness the millionaire had sunk 1 Seaterahe # ie breathed faintly. “Perhaps you od enough to ‘explain.”” = 7, my dear _sir—oortaily; and a me state Heht ive between ‘its. Sons, Am ‘and Henry. att r father’s death: both SS oune men were find'that at the date named the younger brother, having been left a widowér with one child, a son, suddenly returned from England, left that son in his brother’s charge, executing a will leaving his entire estate to the boy, to become the property of his brother Alfred in the event of the child’s decease, and naming his brother trustee. boat explosion, but the facts in the case never were known. As nothing was ever heard of Henry Minford, no special in- - guiry was made, tune had alike disappeared, and their very existence was soon forgotten by all save a few.” "ee : = chair. eyes. ; | three words: ; “The son lives. voice, , ¥ ~~» v “Tt does not matter. [tis the business of my firm to acquire secrets. Will you answer my question now, and tell me hans much you are worth?” “Between eight ‘and ten millions. I can’t tell the exact § sum.” have me lay the true history of Alfred ‘Minford Darorss ee 2 world?” millionaire, now trembling in every limb. ; =a sternly. voice, and appropriated his fortune to yourself. Then you came ito. |New York, embarked in business, and under the name of Van | Cortland increased. Korea fortune ° thousand fold. Don’t bia 2 understand me, sir. I can produce the strongest. proof of every word I say. The young man, Henry Minford, ‘still lives. | produce. him at short notice. | Cortland, entire justice at your hands.” at “Put your mee in Aatinite ve ee Pate “Then Henry Minford, in the endeavor to assuage his grief at the death of his wife, started to travel in Egypt and the far Hast, from which travels he never returned. “Alfred Minford had not yet married, and about this time I find that he converted his brother's possessions into cash, and with his little nephew suddenly disappeared. “Tt was supposed that they both perished in a Western steam- The two brothers, the nephew and the for- Mr. Durand closed the great book and leaned back in his 7 Before him sat Mr. Van Cortland, white and rid. His lips had parted slightly. A wild, staring look was in his _ An “Interesting little story, that, ain’t it?” said Mr. Durand. For an instant there was no response. ye Then, leaning forward, the millionaire gave utterance to “Are they alive?” I believe the father to be dead.” The man seemied to breathe more freely. “How did you learn all this?” he asked in a low, constraitied: “J suppose you had rather sacrifice’a portion of this than ‘What can you prove? What do you want?” demanded t a Mr. Durand fixed his eyes upon the face of the rich Bee “I can prove that you are Alfred Minford,” he sald, ina ved aT can prove that you abandonvd your brother's My demand is justice, Mr,
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THE TIUREE DOORS. you to him, and produce my proof. Providing it is satisfactory “Then you are willing to enter into this bargain with me?” 2 to you, the note must be paid, and you are then to execute a “Let me understand you fully,” Ankworbd Joe, excitedly, “and | will devising your entire estate jointly to Henry Minford and | then you shall have my reply.” oa your daughter Helen, with an expressed wish that they marry “There is nothing to understand. You are simply to on —that is all.” to do precisely as:I tell you—that is all.” y E cs ie Y “And if I refuse to sign?” “And I am to have half a million and marry the girl?” < “Then it will become my duty to present the original of this| “Yes.” Z document to the proper authorities.” » , “Girl worth any money?” Pas Mr. Durand placed a folded paper in the hands of the million- “She is Mr. Van Cortland’s daughter and his only heir.” ee: ; aire, “All right. I’m with you.” F : Trembling from head to foot, Mr. Van Cortland drew forth “You promise?” ; ; a pair of gold-rimmed eye- cee and examined the document “You bet! Fire away—tell me what I’ve got to do.” Ir} silently. ae “Swear first that you will never reveal what has happened es The small black eyes of the private detective regarded him | this night to a living soul. That you will never allude to she : stealthily. . firm of Hammel & Co. in this connéction at all.” “Will you sign?” he asked at length, in a hard, unyielding “I swear! Bring onall the Bibles you like—it’s the same to tone. « me.” ; ; “Is there no alternative? Suppose I were to make you an “Never mind the Bibles, but remember thie: You aah as offer?” ae ae a good as a dead man if you violate your oath.” eee as : . “Couldn’t listen to it. Will you sign?” “Never fear, boss,” replied Joe, lightly. “I’ve sold myself t to faa “Suppose——” the devil now, so fire away and tell me what I’m to do. ” Aye _ “One moment: Mr. Van Cortland. I have no time for trifling. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Doubleday,” replied the “Here is pe pete: there is the pen. For the last time I ask | keeper of the intelligence office, grimly. “There’s nothing, ike ee you to sign.” understanding the true character of one’s. ee There was the sound of carriage wheels to be heard outside | to me.” . ravine eT rath the Oak street door of the old house on the triangle a few mo- “I’m listening.” be: : oe later. : ; “From this moment your name is Henry Mudge.” The rich Mr. Van Cortland had taken his hobereare! leaving | “Henry Mudge—Henry Mudge,” repeated Joe. ‘the I head of the firm of Durand & Co. holding in his hand, with | over a dozen times so that I won’t forget it, d’ye seer? the signature still wet, his note for one million. “Make less talk, A man,” interposed Mr. Hammel, ste _ “It is the first step,” he muttered triumphantly. “The first ly. “I say your name, so far as you have ever. ‘know - step, and it worked like a charm.» Let me but accomplish. the | Henry Mudge. Your early life was spent in the str next, as well, and the key to a literal mine of gold is in my Louis. hands ts to use whenever I please.” one relating to yous except a man with one eye, 1 wee . was Caleb Crutchett—do you think you can remem ‘" hi 52 : ale Obs ivestes Mudge—Crutohett—Crutehet = ; Soil ee said "ae bat CHAPTER V. ¥% Males OS dae gh ROMS written dat your hharaditend here in ini oer PR NE NABE pie ah eal * 1 5 [and study it aretully: after ; you get to 3hey hotel.” Bist eS ; ho BLUE, HEART, Chae ee | “To my. what?” ie x ; Mie aah Sa . , Oia opal j aan vision of a ‘ten-cent lodging pone ths Hews which he me ‘Back to the carriage,” whispered Mr. Hammel to Joe ; aC up ae ubleday, ‘as the dae of fas vane lady disappeared teem
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’ “One will be Mr. vurand, of the firm of Durand & Co., pri- ow to act. Unless some mistake is made on your part, you will in a few days be placed in possession of one million of ollars, which——” “Thought you said it was half a million?” interrupted Joe. ~ -*T said that you would be the possessor of half a million, but you will receive a million. When it is safely secured to you, ammel & Co. will expect to see you at their office, prepared to ake over one half the sum to them.” “Phew! Rather a steep commission, ain’t it?” a Mr. Hammel laughed. = tae ae are a cheeky scoundrel,” he said. * “Here you are net ‘yet, although you know absolutely nothing of the game you are th play, you are trying to cheat me out of my share in the spoils. ris dt: newts do, ones man, it won’t do. Unless you < not found psete ae eet a entire this conversation © Doubleday'and we mysterious Mr. aga a ovement entirely lost on Joe Doubleday. a Borery better than Himeett and he had not | ay f a man who had ‘enosen a ae singwtar THE THREE DOORS. trying to raise er yon * At the sight of his visitors a look of intelligence appeared on a5 < his face. Throwing the door wide open, he invited them in ; with a wave of his hand. The room was shabby and _ ill-kept, studio of some impecunious artist than anything else. more resembling the “So you’ve come, have you?” remarked the man, as he closed the door behind them. “I suppose you are ready for me to begin business at once?” “In one moment,” replied Hammel, and, taking.Joe Double- day by the arm, he drew him to one side. - “Do you see this?” he said, placing an old time-worn letter in the street fakir’s hand. The letter was so folded as to conceal the writing. Instead a small blue heart appeared painted at the bottom of the sheet. Sas “ “T see the blue heart, if that is what you mean.” i “Precisely. Now, Mr. Doubleday, you will be good enough ~~ to remove your coat and underclothing, for I have brought you ; to this place for the express purpose of having, a representation = of that blue heart tattooed in India ink upon your breast.” / CHAPTER VI. A MIDNIGHT MYSTERY. re Sprrnetne down the ladder which connected the chamber of) the old coin-dealer with the loft above, Harry Ashmore gained — the side of the abies man with | a bound. “Mr. Stanton! . Stanton!” he shouted, at the same tila “Speak! For heaven’ s sake what is the’ matter here?” aay aseey There was no answer returned to his cries, (a The old man, though unconscious, was breathing heavily, nor was there about his person, as Harry hastily examined iy ae any appearance of a wound. r What had happened? 1 The open window, the position ‘of the body, the appear ne of the chests and the gold pieces ‘scattered about the ays served to tell the tale with startling plainness.’ y The matter was robbery. | The old coin- dealer, while pretending to be poor) was dou less just the reverse, and. the eet becoming known to his ca f principled neighbors, some one had gained eilpbais to | apartments and robhed him of his hoard. yy, Leaying the side of the man who had undertaken to ne: m, Harry sprang toward: the ‘open windor | The window, which was on ‘the ‘secont story, commande s iew ot U heals ea of the houses on Seema! street and ¢ th
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tO all It showed him, also, a ladder reaching from the window to the back yard, making the mode of entrance chosen by the burglars entirely plain. Here was certainly a dilemma Should hé leave the old coin-dealer where he was and seek to recover his stolen property, or should he content himself sim- ply with raising an outcry, and return to render his aged host such assistance’ as he might stand in need of? It was a matter for instant decision. A low murmur from thé lips of the coin-dealer caused Harry Ashmore to decide at once. “My gold—my precious gold! Save his gold! ‘Then it was more to him than life itself! And Harry Ashmore, who was not of an ungrateful nature, sprang through the ‘window, gained the ladder, and was over the back fence on the trail of the burglars just in time to see their vanishing forms pass through the hall door of one of the _ Mott street houses immediately in the rear. “It youth and pluck could do it, the old coin-dealer’s. gold should be saved. ee Meanwhile ‘the burglars, little dreaming that every move- -inent on their part was closely watched, hurried through the lower hall of the Mott street tenement, the door of which—like ¥ “the doors of all such buildings—was open night and day, and gaining the street, entered a close carriage which stood drawn Oh, save my gold!” as IN _ up against the curb. ? ' Be _ Here was a second dilemma. ; ' Harry Ashmore had hoped to follow them through the street until a police officer should be encountered, for an attack upon three desperate men, unarmed as he was, could not be taken (; into question; now, as crouching, in the shadow of the doorway, Zi he witnessed this sudden move on their part, he realized how _ slight his chances baat were, ging his feet into position upon the hind axle, was, scvacat 6 heii had time to realize what he had done, whirled away the shadow of the wheels, determined that at least he would a have the satisfaction of having tracked the burglars to their hiding-place, if nothing more. : He had done it already. : At the same instant the three men, alighting from the coach, z carrying their bags, which appeared to be enormously heavy, upon their backs, entered the door of the old-fashioned build-_ ing. ‘ . The coach meanwhile rattled away, reducing Harry to the necessity of taking refuge behind an uate oe which stood by the curb. At the sound ‘of the closing door he Stuauebrenad himself up | and surveyed the house. ; It was a curious old affair, occupying a triangular position between three streets. E Above the door through which the burglars had disappeared was a sign bearing the legend: CurisropHer Watson, Haxchange Office. “Good!” muttered Harry. located, and the police——” What is this? The boy had sunk bleeding to the baveiiant uttering a siete cry. He has been shot—that is evident; and yet no report of pi - tol or gun has broken upon the midnight air. Five minutes elapsed. i Harry Ashmore, to all appearance dead, lay stretched tace downward upon the sidewalk, his hands flung out beyond his head. Presently the door of Christopher Watson’s money-changing office softly opened and a man crept out. Advancing toward oe foay with sun BON. looks is “T’m all right now. I have them Heavens! akon * We band upon his cee ; . “Dead!” he muttered. “The air-gun did the bose a as dead as a door nail. It was a narrow escape! ; minute he would have brought the police ean upor Great, heavens! | What is this?” adie. a faintly to be seen! iif, see? £7) The man bent. forward and examined it eagerly. “Bven while U haw sReRa lat eae is—it: is! ‘i a murmured.
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THE THREE DOORS. CHAPTER VII. | HOW JOE DOUBLEDAY PROGRESSED. j : Jor Dousiepay spent that night at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He appeared there at about eleven o'clock, having been a driven up to the entrance in a hack, and registering the name “entry Minford, London,” was received with the greatest re- oe “Very happy to see you, Mr. Minford,” “Your rooms were engaged some days ago by your friend, and ou will find everything in readiness. Your trunks arrived _ this evening, and have already gone up to your room.” : ons, indeed! Much obliged, Iam suah,” returned Joe, try- ing his best to assume an English accent. “As I am somewhat atigued, be good enough to show me to my rooms at once.” - Let not the reader suppose for an instant that it was in the As * shabby, out-at-the-elbows garb of the impecunious agent for ; Slocum's patent needle-threader that Joe Doubleday now ap- said the urbane clerk. He was clothed in an expensive, ill-fitting suit of tweeds of he true English cut, wore fine linen and jewelry, all bearing rat the character he had assumed. ‘Of course all this was the provision of Mr. Hammel, and it only due to Joe Doubleday to state that he filled the role of > Uv oon his breast was a a paint, reminder of last night’s doings. ‘It was. im small blue heart riche with India ink into the t this, the: fied to count the contents of a well-stuffed vhich he Bay trom ae ataeod beneath his head. ots his Heat 5 was Poledebinaly painful and much inflamed, j re d to take this meal, in bed. fast Joe ue up er, examined them carefully. Engi hb express and. hotel labels, : nich his arrival was quoted | SAA eee Ie aaaabe hPa See. a ‘gentleman of ay, | eyes. ; : a “Good-morning, my dear sir, good-morning. S found to contain a complet ieee Joe Doubleday stayed at the Fifth Avenue Hotel for a week. During this time his breast had healed, leaving the blue heart, which had, to all appearance, been tattooed upon it many years before. He saw nothing whatever of Mr.- Hammel, and although- © many times sorely tempted to do so, did not call at the Cham- bers street intelligence office. That he carefully studied the written instructions, however, need not be said. And during that week Joe Doubleday lived like a prince. What with rich wines, sumptuous meals and daily rides in the park, he began almost to wish that it might never come to anvend. |» The end came at last, however, and on the appointed day, precisely at twelve o’clock, a waiter presented himself at Joe’s : apartments, bearing two cards on a silver tray. One bore the name of Alfred Van Cortland, the other was the business card of Durand & Co., the then well-known private — detective firm. ' “Show the gentlemen up,” said Joe, nervously. All his lightness of character seemed :to have suddenly de serted him. He paced the floor of the private parlor in a Stites of deep agi: tation. Ky e me Although he now thoroughly understood what was periceiemt 3 of him, he felt that he distrusted himself. | % Would he be able to withstand the ordeal? We shall see. it 2 A light tap at the door announced the visitors, “Come in!” shouted Joe, dropping into an arm-chair and eatching up the morning paper in the attempt to appear as unconcerned as possible. f Two gentlemen entered the room. The one was richly dressed, tall and stately, and evidently at an advanced age. zs His companion was a stout, thick-set, aety: man, with, ' ™% | er, ay hair, black beard and small, piercing” black eyes. Whether or no his face betrayed the agitation. nate he felt at that moment, Joe Doubleday never knew. He arose to his feet instantly, and though to the best of his knowledge he, had never seen ‘the Dianne Dene ‘man befo now Bruepye him warmly by the hand, . “Ah, good- mor ning, Mr. Durand; you are pumenia it seems. | This, I presume, is Mr. Van Cortland, whom we told me yes | terday I might expect. = 2 ‘ A quick gleam of satisfaction shot from the small bead-like . Joe saw it, though Mr. Van Cortland, whose, gaze ‘was tently fixed upon the young nian before Ss did not. TY seemed to say? “You'll do! WER ete vou. are ee ‘is: Mr. pe n Cortland, Mr. Yen Cortland ‘tl
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THE THREE DOORS. Mr, Durand has informed you, I presume, of the object of my | one further test. visit?” *(; “Pray be seated, gentlemen,” studying a book on etiquette, entitled “How to Behave,” with the greatest care. “Yes, Mr. Van Cortland, Mr. Durand has been very kind to me—very kind indeed.” Mr. Van Cortland seated himself and coughed nervously. me presume he has informed you that I have reason to be- replied Joe, who had been “Iieve that you are my ‘nephew, son of my deceased sister, Mrs. Grace Minford?” he continued in his nervous way. 7) “He has, sir.” roe “As I desire to make certain of this, may I trouble you to answer a question or two?” ‘ “A thousand, if you. wish.” “Thank you. You have not always been called by the name you now bear?” - . “No, sir. Until I met Mr. Durand in London, some months ago, I supposed my name to be Mudge.” *You-are not Hnglish?” ““Oh, no, sir. Crutchett.” _ Mr. Van Cortland started violently. - “His first name?’ he asked, in a constrained voice, leaning _ forward as he spoke. “Galeb, sir—Caleb Crutchett was his name.” ; “And his busingss?” . mae “When I first remember he was a porter in the Planter’s _ Hotel. ‘Later on he opened a saloon and accumulated a little mey.”” 4 ‘ “Do you recollect anything peculiar about his pergonal ap- ranve?” aed Wig Yes, sir. He had only one Je * ‘i ‘Is ‘he dead?” . The “question came in so on a tone that Joe could scarcely | as a ; { I was brought up in St. Louis by a man named cs 4 He sold out his saloon and went home to Eng- ‘about vie years ago. He died shortly after, leaving me a thousand pounds,” Pye a1 ae a re: don’t resemble ‘my socaeiee sfater,* he said, slowly. ete no FeCl of your! early life, i suppose?” Seeger tia your rel ationship to me?” ready told you that, Mr. Van € Cortland, " 2 of trade was also junk. shite was situs I must see your naked breast, Mr. Minford— ey, then, and not until then, I shall be able to decide. * zt “Sir!” exclaimed Joe, starting back in well-feigned aston- ishment. At the same time he observed that Mr. Durand was looking the other way. “T repeat my demand. I must request that you remove A Z portion of your clothing and exhibit to me your naked breast.” ie “Can you refer to the blue heart? I always wondered pat he i came by it——” “Ah! then it is there?” The face of Mr. Van Cortland was deadly pale. “Look for yourself, sir,” opening up his shirt. : A blue heart was tattooed upon the breast. : es, Mr. Van Cortland bent forward and examined the tattooing” with deep attention. me “It is enough!” he cried at length. “I am satisfied. é Minford, I welcome you as my nephew and heir to my sist fortune. Henceforth let me SEaUrGt that you make my heuse your home.” 4 Hs aes af cried Joe, throwing off Kah ied and yi iti oe CHAPTER VIII. | Bri a OF ee eae MR abel “AN’ it’s a foine evenin’, me Eyetalyan frind, prot di a man has wooden legs what can stand the mud and. ‘Phwat would ye be after taxing me for the full satinets?” ‘: ns . ; i Oa It was Mr. Dennis O'Day who spoke, He had Sat Briered ie junk-shop tie 3 Gusenn home. ad te ’ _ From the appearance of Mr. O'Day, cloth garments, not one. of them match an empty bag rolled up aaa iis arm, 4? For once “appearances. did not belie the tr _ Dennis O'Day was a junk dealer. . ‘His shop, quite as dirty, it hot as fou
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2 Me THE THREE DOORS. ° — *: ing, he had taken his bag and sallied forth to haggle with | He shifted it now to the right shoulder, now to the left, th trade for the required weight in rags. tds through the deserted streets with all possible epee : ‘cell r of: Guiseppi Donatello as a last resort. ; and left. , : Ce = ee ‘to say, he found the Italian more willing to accom-| “Howly saints! but I’ve done it now!” he muttered. “I’m ee Fy hiddate him than his own countrymen had been. rich—rich—rich! .Oh, the purty craythers! won’t I make them eee Signor Donatello had collected the satinets that very day, | fly!. Ill b?.an alderman, so I will, and they shall sind me to A: an had drawn them to his Pee OSisY street cellar in a wagon} Congress. egorra, but I’ll be the solid man of the Fourth ‘ @ k Of what was >e talking? a slight advance he was willing to turn them over to Surely not sat. rets? i. nis O'Day, and the women of his establishment were set| And yet satinets vere all that Dennis was ites to have’ ork picking them over, despite of the lateness of the hour. | in his bag. i. to be behindhand, the man from Chambers street, dur- He had turned the «crner of Oak street now,.and was within is \ the interview, sent olt for beer. plain sight of his home. tae ie 5 Shag ero: to be a reriapte oll Sabah As he shot one wary glance up the street he saw before him walk. | omen ‘had ehetvdl to ent: Dennis 0’ Dak and his “Ryetal- With a smothered exclamation Dennis drew back into es a riend” found themselves stretched on the floor with the | shadow of the triangular house on the side phere was situated l owler between them, rousing from a drunken sleep. the office of Durand & Co. It wa: Dennis Q’ Day who made the discovery. “It’s Muster Watson, by all that’s good!” he muttered. “Be: ‘Donatello was still asleep and indulging in the] gobs, and there’s crooked work here, or I’m a goat. Phwat’s” ind of snores. _ foi 5 | he doin’? Howly saints, put it’s murder! If I want to git it’s after slaping I’ve ieee: muttered ‘Dennis, | square with the ould scoundrel for the ‘trick he wanst serve set. “Oh! me head, ras head! Begorra, but the me, now’s me time.” ; : a Se At this instant the man rose, and ee entered Christo- , 1g to his feet, he joaked about him. Mi pher Watson’s door. 5 Se ES . With the quickness of thought Dennis O'Day nad shot. aoe the street, and dropped his bag. down a. flight of cellar steps. ft j Then, hurrying to the place’ ‘where. the body of the prostrate man-lay stretched upon the path, he slung it upon his bae i and disappeared down the cellar: siete on the Bg side'o the street. RY 4 pal Maes ag a No sooner had’ he accomplished this” movement—and it. 2 been ‘executed with the utmost ‘rapidity—than the door of t money- -changer’s 's office’ softly opened, ‘end tour: men. crept ow is 1] into the street. Ag Jam aie i é {7 By ce te? +5 Cx aR gre Yen 5 , a3) “s v i i . Lae CHAPTER IX. ra ANOTHER GOLDEN WIRIPN. Me Was Harry pias beanie again? © Vie poe Hiieelt it oe Bei I A comet ie ‘should have s ent ing the cel
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14 THE THREE DOORS. Was it not alla dream? ~ Could it be possible that he was still in the loft above the old coin-dealer’s room—his head whirled so that he could not even think. Such were the thoughts floating through the brain of Harry Ashmore at the moment of opening his eyes. Then it all came back to him. Tt had been no dream. He was lying stretched upon a heap of ill-smelling rags in the rear of what seemed to be a little ‘shop. He put out his hand and tried to rise. Only then did he become aware of how weak he was, and that his shirt, vest and coat were saturated with blood. He had been shot then—it was an actual fact! With reeling brain, and trembling in every limb, he sank back on the rags too weak to utter a sound. It was at that moment that the murmuring voices in the apartment beyond the one in which he lay began to make some impression on his mind. discussing some subject of great importance to themselves. Dy After a moment Harry found strength to open his eyes and survey the surrounding scene. The room in whieh he lay was wholly dark and contained little else save rags. | From the appearance of the walls, which were of stone, and the confined, moldy atmosphere which pervaded the place, Harry came to the immediate conclusion that during the in- ‘terval of unconsciousness which had succeeded his fall to the sidewalk he had been carried to some apartment underground. "The room beyond, into which he could, as he lay, look with- out difficulty, seemed to bear out this conclusion, for its walls : were also of stone, and at one end a flight of steps could be seen leading to regions above, \ In one corner of the apartment stood an old-fashioned cook-: Listers its legs supported by four bricks, before which sat two men in earnest conversation, one in an old paralytic-look- _ ing rocking-chair, the other upon a low stool. : Everywhere about were scattered heaps of old iron, brass and pewter, bags stuffed with assorted. rags, white and colored, to- z Seba with all the varying paraphernalia of a junk-dealer’s “shop. - But, weak and faint as he was, Harry Ashmore had no se . tor all this. : He would probably ‘Raye closed his eyes agate Sei abe nm mention on the part “= one of. the mien at ihe stove of a f a ‘the bile of rags, so as to ‘cominand a ey of: the speakers, istened. ot ; anes hte rough: Jooking Irishman, who, in his shirt slooves, _ They were the voices of two men who seemed to be. earnestly ~ even sunk off into uneonscioushess—had it not been for the| you Eeeic any more esti. it I anit do it at all.” out the money. stool—was a short, dried-up old specimen of humanity, with — grizzled hair and beard, and only one available eye. : Evidently it was this man who had given utterance to the aol name of the money-changer, for he now repeated it again. i Rs is “So you are down on Christopher Watson, are you? Better — i be careful, O’Day. I tell you he’s a dangerous man.” ‘ adnan “Go way wid yez, It’s not Dinnis O’Day that’s afeard of © him. He’s chated me more than wanst, so he has, and, be- i gorra, I’ll get square wid him now.” “Cheated you? Elow has he cheated you?” “Sure, an’ didn’t I sell him a lot of ould notes what I found — a amongst the waste paper for tin cents, thinking they were no £ good, only to hear from wan of his clerks that he sold them for a thousand dollars.” rica “Well, well, they may have been useless to you, yet valuable to him.” “Go way wid yez. Don’t be after givin’ meno such nonsense. Why didn’t he tell me phat they were worth? May the bogies Answer me, man—why didn’t he do that?” “Tut, tut, you are talking nonsense. But tell me, are you sure that he shot this boy?” Vx : “Sure—man, I’m sartin! Wasn’t I just comin’ round the’ corner of Oak street, when I seed him bending over his body __ on the sidewalk? Then, little draming that the eye of Dinnis ‘ oe O'Day was upon him, he gave a lep through his dure as though he wur shot out through a gun.” pe “But some one else may have fired the shot—did you hear any report?” ee 5)" ee fly away wid him! “Sorra a wan.’ “That’s against your theory, then.” : “Ts it? Then what for did himsilf and three of his min com: ; running out into the street a minute after, to see wiieta the body had gone?” volts “How can I tell?) But you have brought : me here, oe i the dead of night—now what is it you propose?” ; “That you open ould Watson’s dure—you know how the jo is done—and we'll carry the body of the lad in and lay it o the flure, where it’ll be found the morrer, and the police calle in, V’ll cook up a story of what I seen that’ll do the rist.” The one-eyed man gave utterance to a contemptuous grun “Your stupid vindictiveness will get you into trouble bet you die, O’Day,” he growled. “TF, don’t remember: ever hearit of a plan more absurd ; but as I am in need of money, Vl ‘ope the door for you in the most approved fashion, if the p is. ai right.” } ‘ Me eg 1 Dennis O’Day, chuckled. | mesilf. Now, how would five dollars strike you for the job?” Be ae ee O'Day, yn are simply a fool. ei “Bh! but ye're a hard wan,” muttered Dennis, as he “Howsomedever, there's nottitn’ m
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THE THREE DOORS, i ward two o’clock; will ye creep acrost the street an’ do it now?” oy “As well now as any time,” was the answer. _a jiffy, O'Day.” ‘Then from his place of observation on the top of the rag : heap Harry saw the one-eyed man rise from the stool, ascend “Tl be back in the stone steps and disappear. What could it all mean? as was too weak to make any resistance, therefore there ‘was nothing for it but to make known his return to conscious- ness at once. ey Probably Harry would have taken this step, had noe curios- cf ty restrained him. No sooner had the one-eyed man departed than Dennis O’Day, ; 4 ‘slipping up the steps and locking a door, returned, and seizing Me a bag which stood in one corner, dragged it out into the mid- ; ae dle of the cellar. fats ‘The bag seemed to be enormously heavy, although through the mouth, which was open, Harry could see that it was filled 7 vie Ae with rags. = Ino one corner stood a great tierce filled with scrap-iron. This unk-dealer now grasped, and ea it, etatee its C ents, gion the cellar floor. , CHAPTER X. DETECTIVE JELIFFE. 4 we ae see what ¢ can be done, “Next!” _ ; ry day sige eg in. the Intelligence office 0 of | the letter which he had begun to write. and four in the morning whin I fetch him ‘home in me coach j can stave thim off much longer, and that’s a fact.” Hammel & Co. did an extensive business. By competent judges it had been estimated that more ser- ; vants were hired, two to one, from their intelligence office a4 than from any other in the city of New York. The office, which was up one flight of stairs, was handsomely finished off with hard wood counters, brass railings, ete., rare in those days, although common enough among our business offices now, while upon the double row of settees occupying one side of the office servants unemployed or waiting for calls could be found at almost any hour in the day. It was on a pleasant June morning, some three months sub- 4 sequent to the unexpected transfer of Joe Doubleday, the street fakir, from the life of a wandering outcast to that of a member of one of the richest households in New York that the above __ conversation took place. ‘ es As the applicant for the vacancy in the kitchen of Mrs. Snig- gers left the office of Hammel & Co. she passed the proprietor’ himself upon the stairs. ~ His dress and general appearance ‘were mug@n the same as when encountered by Joe Doubleday on that night ever memor- able. ; The black broadcloth of winter had been exchanged for the lighter clothes of sumnier, but he still wore the green speetacles concealing his eyes, and presented the same quick, business- like manner in all he said and did. ‘ e Passing through the intelligence office to his private room . with a slight nod.to the clerks, Mr. Hammel removed his hat — and gloves, threw a bundle of papers upon the desk behind which he seated himself and touched his bell. One of the clerks appeared in answer. “Who is outside there, Bates?” asked Mr. esp gaa Sete : over his paper as he spoke. Ap * “Well, sir, there is Bridget O’Reilly, late cook at the Briges’ _ Patrick Ryan, coachman for Colonel Cavanagh—tI believe there is no one else that you would care to see.” ; “Very good. Show in Ryan. You may tell the woman to _ come to-morrow. I haven’t time to talk with her today.” A red-headed Irishman in coachman’s livery entered a mo- ment later and stood beside the desk. : Ey i ei, “Well, and what have you to report, Ryan?” demanded iis ; keeper of the intelligence office, without raising his head from ite Sl i: sana A “Things are much the same, sor. ting deeper in debt every day.” “Ah! Is the colonel eanibling much nowy Colonel Cavanagh is get- me “Indeed! | owes?” “They are at the house every, aay, ‘sor, dat running him pretty hard for what Br 4h: ‘al don’t eines ‘Very well, Ryan. Go back to your work and weap a a
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by Me ogee Contes ahaa THE THREE DOORS. eT A Under the thumb of Hammel & Co.! There were many—very many—of the so-called rich house- . holders of New York already in that very position, as, to their sorrow, they were well aware. The conversation held with the coachman was only a sample. Similar conversations were held in the private offices of Hammel & Co. every day in the week. Were the servants sent out from the noted intelligence office but so many spies on the evil doings of their masters? It certainly looked that way. . “Mr, Henry Mudge,” said the clerk, dbeliitig the door and ushering in a stylishly-dressed young man into the private | Office of Hammel & Co. ib Mr. Hammel started at the announcement. He had been looking out of the window for a 1 moment or +! more, ‘with his eyes riveted upon a man who could be seen ~ standing quietly ih a doorway on the opposite side of Cham- at bers street, his gaze upon the house of the three doors. ‘Whether it was his imagination or not, it seemed to him that the man’s eyes were particularly directed toward the open window beside. which he himself was sitting. : nies inasmuch as Mr. Hammel pocoepage in, the man John ; ‘owell, “Mr. Double—— I beg your pardon, Mr. Mudge—— — Gs... are matters progressiig with you?” Hy “Slowly,” ‘answered our old acquaintance, Joe Doubleday, fling: is himself into the chair in a manner which he con- idered, no doubt, the height of elegance. “Matters move con- foundedly slow. Ne am very much at home in the house of my "uncle, Van Cortland, it is true, but I have seen nothing of that n HINion dollars yet. that mot Eronttaed me, and I must haye’ well enough by: this time to be aware that pleasure 1 is. all very nett inde chee there's no cash. in the| nd ood ‘Van Cortland is liable ‘to discover | Detective Jeliffe was still standing in the’ joorwaa i looking up at the house. pe “Confound the fellow!” he muttered angrily. has got to stop.” He opened the door and made a signal to Bates, the clerk. Then he shut the door again, and was heard to lock it on the inside, As the hours passed the business of the intelligence office continued. Not a sound was heard in the private room of Mr. Hammel, the window was closed, the door remained closed, the shades were pulled down to their full length. To all who asked for him personally it was stated that Mr, Hammel was “out of town.” j Meanwhile—it was perhaps a quarter of an hour after th departure of Joe Doubleday from the Oak street ene. ee thing of Mr. Simon Durand, of the private , detective agency ot Dae rand & Co; - si He was dressed in a full suit of black, wore a shiny sine beaver, neatly polished shoes, and carried a gold-headed cane. His face bore a complacent, self-satisfied air, causing, h appear like,a man fresh from a good dinner, well pleased Ww: _ himself and the world. : Sauntering around into Chambers street, he chance 0 pass the doorway in which stood Detective ‘STelitte, still watchin; the offices of Hammel & Co. He : “Ah! Mr. Jeliffe, good-morning,” he said, stsnunts and sha ing the detective warmly by the ame “Out on busines beautiful morning, or is it pleasure that brings: vat > way?” S ~The detective tarted at ‘the c sound 0 of his votes, an old tine dadife tears easndiy eee eae, ‘i hess “Business, my dear sir, business. thing in which I seldom indulge, AC che cs lg a “Just so,” replied Durand, his black eyes snapping. | you were with our firm, ‘Mr. Jeliffe, you wer | the one man ‘on whom we could always depen To this compliment the detective only b “Call in and see us, Jeliffe, when you are | rand, moving away, _ “Drop | in and, ust ‘And I hope 0, tes, ‘gimo “Durand, ” “muttered Dete gel f.
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THE “eoins were running into the tierce in a yellow stream. 7 It was more than Harry Ashmore could stand. NK Without giving a thought to the probable consequences of an 9 act so injudicious, he gave utterance to one low, startled ex- ‘elamation of surprise. With precipitate haste the junk-dealer thrust the bag into : the tierce, regardless of what remainder of gold it might con- ‘tain, and sprang through the open doorway. “Yowly sailor, but the bye’s alive!” was the ery which : escaped his pallid lips. _ It was a ticklish position for Harry Ashmore. 2 fe in ‘Utterly powerless to move and afraid to speak, he lay there ay helpless upon the rags regarding the movements of Dennis is O'Day with a. keenness of interest bred of despair. F . SHe had not the faintest idea where he was. iy - That he had been picked up in the street unconscious eae : ‘brought to the place where he lay he well understood, but this said, with the exception of such hints as had been let fall by . Dennis O’Day in his conversation with the one-eyed man, he knew no more. i ‘Previous to the bursting of this vision of a bag filled with _ gold pieces upon him, Harry had been utterly at a loss to com- prehend the motive of the junk-man in bringing him to this place at all. Now he felt certain of one thing, namely, that in the person of this man who now sprang toward him he beheld e. one, at least, of the robbers who had possessed themselves of the contents of old Peter Stanton’s treasure chests, and one of ‘the | men whom he had followed from the old coin-dealer’s ihe house, me : ‘The thought was by no means a cheering one, evertheless, it Tent new shite ig to Harry Weheore: 'S fail- ing strength, ; } : “Keep back there!” he cried, striving to: rise from the rags. nee have some strength left! I can defend myself yet! inarticulate, gurgling. sound completed the sentence. he fingers | of Dennis ee were about his throat. Vhist, whist, ye little brat!” he ‘muttered, tightening his oe until Harry was black in the face. ‘Is it stringth yer. I castin’ of? oe an Dinny O'Day, what has downed | ; ok . ae a hi 1¢ muttered, gating OBE the THREE DOORS. ie | z 7 : ‘From the bag held in the hands of Dennis O’Day the golden | lovking around with an air of alarm. j the corner of Pearl. ae of rane thy Aas upon tt j tales agin Denny O’Day aoe I nee “Tomorrow 1 { }I came to fill me bag with thim shining gowl d | the arenven: 3 satinets. Bais “T’vye done it—I’m ae, ; murderer! alone, or lift the bye in the street before I’d a-br ens this sin — upon me sowl.” He gazed around the dimly lighted shop with a fieheeed! — air. ae ee From behind each barrel and bag, from out of the great pile | ; of rags itself, it seemed as though a multitude of faces were er gazing upon him, and pointing toward him the finger of re- : proach, : } I wisht to hiven I’d let the old codger’s gowld Perhaps it was fright; ‘put whatever the cause, certain itis that these phantom forms took upon themselves a reality i; which served to drive all other thoughts from the mind of the rs terrified junk-dealer, and spurred him on to action as he had never been spurred before. He seemed to wholly forget his bargain with the one-eyed burglar, his desire to wreak revenge upon his neighbor Wat- son, the money-changer, in the house of the three doors, ‘and to become possessed of one idea alone—to remove the body o the boy from out of his sight. And when we mention that for a week pay! Dennis oD had not drawn one sober breath, his vagaries may, in a ‘me ure at least, stand explained. Bending over Harry ‘Ashmore, he picked up his light for as easily as though it, had been one of his own rag bags, id i flinging it upon his back, stole up the cellar ateps, stopping only to lock the door behind him, and gained the street. f = It was wholly dark and deserted. a5) doors, in front of which ought to have. been the one- eyed man, am providing he was fulfilling his bargain, plying his burglari trade in trying to gain entrance to. Christopher Watson's’ money-changing shop. ' But even the one-eyed. burglar had cilegeantett Mt! . The money-changing shop of pues et Watson Ww shrouded in general gloom. ) : Without turning his eyes to the right or ee left ‘the | frig] ened junk-dealer hurried into Oak street, past the detect agency of Durand & Co., into New Chambers street, and nh Here an empty truck sera drawn up heside the ¢ el , tye
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THE THREE DOORS. And indeed it would seem so. The man who had just rushed into the station looked the madman in every sense of the word, nor did his speech belie his looks. He was tall and thin, with long, white hair streaming about his neck and shoulders from beneath a battered hat, his | clothes were old and shabby and torn, his form was bent with age a: : As he stood before the desk his limbs trembled violently, and his eyes, wild and gleaming with strange light, roved un- - easily from side to side. “What's your name? : _ sergeant, seeking to calm the man's excitement by =e addi- tion of a few well-chosen words. — - “My name is Peter Stanton. I live at No. — Matberry street. ak repeat, Iam not mad. [I have been robbed of half a million in gold. f “Mulberry street is a poor street in which to keep aE treasure like that, my friend,” said the sergeant. “Are you sure you, have made no mistake?” “Am Isure? AmI sure? Do you ask me if I am sure, when 1 many long years I have toiled to save this gold that,I "might haye wealth to bestow on my boy? I begin to think po all the world is mad, and that T alone am sane!” ee - “It’s other, way about, old man, I’m thinking. Come, tell ? Where do you live?” demanded the 1e all about it, so that I may know what to do.” S And the sergeant, with the air of a man about to listen to an entertaining story, of which he did not expect to believe a we a, leaned back a ‘his chair and began to pick his teeth with y great ohiseks in the room, I might have isl they would ome time, for they’re a bad lot around me, an evil lot, ow they’ ve done it at last.” ‘did they do it?” ! me in through the window by aid of a ladder. as roformed me first, and then put the gold in bags. et ‘do you know if you were unconscious?” * was not ‘unconscious all of the time; I came to myself just hey were getting out of the window—then I lost my senses ‘When I woke up I found the boy gone too, and so I rae ? ; boy—what boy? Do you mean your ‘son?” No. Would that it were. " was a young man ' 5 se was one of the eaten , think $0. I have a dim recollection, as iy on the floor, of seeing the boy run down the lad- the loft where he slept and follow the burglars who ags out of the window.” ty said the acres “you don’t expect, me to be They | well-known detective—John aaa by name. ‘fag there breathed. “I tell you, captain, I am not mad. There are many in this city who know me. Strange as a. story may seem to you, I can assure you of its truth.” ; “Why, man, three burglars could not carry off half a mil- lion in gold!” cried the sergeant impatiently. “They could not even lift it from the ground.” “Ah, there is just where I have failed to make myself un- derstood. It is true that the treasure stolen from my chest was all in gold, but it was not all in modern coin.” “Not in modern coin? What do you mean?” “I mean what I say. A certain quantity was in twenty-dol- lar gold pieces—thirty thousand dollars, perhaps—but the rest, and by far the most valuable part, was in the coins of the ancient Romans, Greeks and Hgyptians—all gold, mind YOUe and many little coins, not weighing the eighth of an ounce, ae were worth hundreds of dollars to collectors who are willing — to spend their money for such things.” The sergeant loéked at the oki man sharply. A great change had come over his manner as these last — words were spoken, 3 “I begin to understand,” he said slowly, “and, what is more, _ T think I remember you now. Keep a little stand, don’t you, for the sale of old coins up Beetnee. the railings of St. Pau, 8 3 churchyard fence?” 2 f “Yes, yes!” cried the old man, eagerly. “I have been there — for ten years and over. These were my little savings. Now they are all gone—all gone! alone, with nothing to leave to my son, if I should ever find him, which I hope to do.” ae an ae you have lost a son?” get back my gold.” “Well, eae pr have one,” pee the pormeent thus caused the sergeant to exclaim. ; , One was a policeman in full uniform, the other a cert: They. t bore be Suerte dpetra ance went, seemed to be dead. It was Harry Ashmore. been left by Dennis O'Day. char ee They carried him into the station and laid him on The: fi almost at the old coin-dealer’ 's feet, She Be “Great heavens! it is the boy!” he cried. "AU ts the boy to whom I gave lodgings for the night. 33 ; » la _ “Glad you know him,” said the detective. _ down’ in Pearl street Tying ona truck. : I am left old, half blind and —
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4 THE THREE ‘DOORS. a a IE ee ; Meanwhile the sergeant, who had descended from his seat behind the desk and joined the group in the centre of the} time hoped to possess, should be consigned to the melting-pot iP Poor: haceled beside the body, and loosening the-shirt, bared | and lost to the world forever. : the breast and placed his hand in the region of the heart. Therefore the learned societies joined issue with Peter Stan- a “He ¢ertainly seems to be dead,” he said, slowly, “and yet | ton and themselves offered a reward for the recovery of cer- = the body is not cold.” tain coins, published in a long list in the advertising columns — ‘What ailed the old coin-dealer? of the daily papers for weeks to come. : ; i ‘If he was not mad before, he certainly seemed so now! It all proved useless. His face was as white as his hair. His eyes seemed starting} When Harry Ashmore, after a violent attack of brain fever, out of his head. - Lenovered his senses at last, he could not remember to what It was upon the blue heart tattooed on Harry Ashmore’s| part of the city he had followed the burglars, nor could tiae ; breast which had so excited Mr. Christopher Watson that the | give any information which seemed to afford a tangible clew. old man’s gaze was riveted. . His story was listened to by some of the most noted detect Wor an instant he looked upon it, then, sinking on his knees, | ives in New York, put they were all at fault when Sitemiake was ‘ che bent down to obtain a closer view. ' made to locate the place. “Gone! all gone!” he cried in agony. “First the gold,}| After the young man’s wound healed and he became able to then——” ! _ | move about he was taken to junk-shop after junk-shop, in hop: a The sentence remained uncompleted. ‘that he would be able to recognize the one in which he hat Old Peter Stanton, the coin-dealer, fell suddenly forward, | seen the bag of gold. fainting aren the body of Harry Ashmore as it lay upon the Every such move resulted only in failure. ; - floor. ~ Dennis O’Day, carrying out his intentjons, had moved < rE long way up-town on the West Side, consequently his estab ; : lishment was not taken into consideration at all. Aa ; CHAPTHR XIII, During Harry Ashmore’s long confinement in Bellevue Hos ; see pital the coin-dealer visited him daily. Z ON THE HUNT FOR OLD COLNS. It would seem that the burglars had not made quite a ele s sweep of the old man’s savings, for he still seemed to fin : - Tuy were wrong, one and all, in Renato) Harry Ash-| means of subsistence and to provide Harry with clothes and j more dead. ’ ae many luxurie, as well, : a: ‘ In spite of his wound, in spite of the choking of Dennis During these visits he questioned the young man repeatedly O'Day, ea man lived, Hise ee ry weeks were | concerning ‘his early life, without learning nee loseree for Harry had but little to tell. or so in a ee When Reynolds, his guardian, had | Harry, losing his place through the failure of the firm, come to New York in search of work. 5 Se '\ This was really all he had to tell. _ Although Peter Stanton made him repeat this. ‘un or and over again, he never commented upon it. Several times he asked to be allowed to examine the heart tattooed on the young man’s breast, and wonies inaui how it came there. ) AS Harry could not seri this auestion the heart ha ce Jelitfe, who had, dicen: chancing 6 pass the upon which Harry Ashmore lay unconscious, become — A ie anrévenk case made a great aie. in the papers, also, 1 for it trans-
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THE THREE DOORS. EG ay ee “TF we look long enough we are bound to come across some ~ of the stolen pieces,” the old man had said. to leak out one by one, and I should know them at a glance.” - And to this work Harry gave himself up with untiring zeal. At four o’clock each day the boards upon which the stock in trade of the dealer were tacked were stowed away in a neigh- pawnbroker’s on Chatham street, the Bowery and in other lo- ealities, rummaging over boxes and bags of foreign coin in _ chests. af have overlooked the money- changing office of Christopher Wat- “son on the Chambers streetrside of the house of the three doors. Such, however, was the case, until late on a certain after- dently. dawned upon Peter Stanton, and at his suggestion they turned their steps in that direction, shortly after closing the | The more I look at this place the more certain Iam that it was: stand for the day. began to look about him curiously. - the burglars drove?” he said; as they approached the house of he three doors, : Phas —- old coin-dealer grasped his arm nervously. S ak you sure?’ he sh ietae “Try and remember! ie tiv: 1; . pret: is it? What do ‘you see? ele’: pes eves ji another of silver there, also a collection of} 7a ir myself!” ora “They will be sure | with the old dealer he had come to know something about ‘aD / boring shop, and together they would start off on a tour of} the gold piece. exploration, visiting every money-changing establishment and | such piece?—two coins of the same issue, it seems to me, may search of the missing ei stolen from the old man’s “I tell you I cannot be mistaken. I was once offered five bun- It seemed strange that in all these expeditions they should | out, I was a fool not to have taken it. It’s mine, I tell you; it’s ; noon in June the recollection that such a place existed sud- | give it up. : Sore Thatt AS they turned out of Chatham street into Chambers Harry | came with the bags. -Jelifte. : “Do you know it seems to me that this is the place to which | Confound it! he will spoil it all in his haste!” * ee so to me,”. repiied Harry, “hut still I cannot speak | he found ihie< old ‘coin-dealer. tevin ane atattieg at Ue he. Wy a So iinai’ was crowded into a short: space that night rate, while’ the clerk behind the counter stood dum 7 | at him as abe he were some madman let popes ; Cae ‘ ‘Jars! There as a small Pdispieg of coin in the sd a little ‘pile | what you nek done with the rest ot my oa! e mole coin of antique ppedtanes- wiles oacipled. a} 4 eae in ‘the window. ° “Boy, we pie found hie cient coins and their value, and a very interesting subject he found it, by the way. j “You are sure there is no mistake about it?” he whispered to the old dealer as together they stood gazing attentively ah “Might there not have been more than one easily look alike.” Peat “Not of these—not of these,’”’ replied the old man, hastily. dred dollars for that very piece, and, as things have turned — mine!” Shen what shall we do?” : ‘ “Go. in and demand it. It belongs to me, and I’ll make eta” 4, “No—no; that would be foolishness. Let us think a moment. here the attack was made on mé, and to this -house the men I think we had better see Detective. He has taken a great interest in the case, and—-— For the old dealer, whose mind seemed to be in that peculiar state that loses all control of itself under excitement, had made a sudden dart up the steps of Christopher Watson’s shop, and before EAI y: could raise a hand to stop him had iad «P Pai that gold Ptolemy in the window!” ” he shouted mine—I got it in Egypt—it was stolen from my room!” , xt ‘T can . prove itt “But the old contiaeaies refused to heed ie “go loud were his shouts and ‘60 emphatic |
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Te ee oe ee {a aA Sand THE THREE DOORS. t “Jenkins, why don’t you call in an officer and have this oli More than that, there was but one door to the reom—the one erank put out?” : the clerk had just thrown open—and the only window, which y “J was just thinking of doing so,” answered the clerk. “He/} opened upon an interior court-yard, was closed and fastened . claims that old coin in the window as his.” on. the inside: “Nonsense! I bought that of a sailor last week. It’s for — sale, if he wants to buy it, but r ll have him to understand that he can’t come here to bully me.’ CHAPTER XY. i “Tt’s mine—it’s mine!” fairly yelled Mr. Stanton, now losing : all control of himself. ‘You are all a pack of thieves in here! AN INTERVIEW—A BURGLARY ON FIRTH AVENUE. Give me my coin, or I’ll call the police!” “Cali an officer, Jenkins!” exclaimed the broker, pale with Tue frequent presence of Detective Jeliffe in the immediate ‘rage. “Old man, if you don’t hold your noise I'll make things | neighborhood of the house of the three doors néeds explana- = warm for you, now make no mistake.” tion. ; His words seemed to only serve to add to the coin-dealer'’s The reason was two-fold. 3 rage. First, John Jeliffe was a ward detective, and the especial He stamped and swore, uttering all the while the most vio-| district under his'charge happened to contain within its limits lent threats in spite of everything that Harry Ashmore could the house of the three doors. ' do or say. This reason, though excellent, does not entirely fill the bill. Meanwhile Jenkins, the clerk, hurrying out into the street On the occasion of Joe Doubleday’s visit to the offices of in search of an officer, by a singular chance ran plump into the | Hammel & Co., to make his demand for money, it was observed arms of Detective Jeliffe, who happened to be passing at the} that Detective Jeliffe seemed to haye the hotise of the three time. ; doors itself particularly under’ his eye. Now Jenkins knew Detective Jelitte. This brings us to our second reason, which will be better Their acquaintance had been formed at the time when the | understood if we admit the reader to a privaje conversation “latter was in the employ of Durand & Co., which took place between Detective Jeliffe and Mr. Van Cort- é _ Hurriedly stating his case, in company with the detective he | land in the library of the latter’s mansion on Fifth avenue. ' started to return to the money-changer’s shop. It was the evening of the day upon which had been made the - Did Christopher Watson see them coming? discovery of the stolen Egyptian coin in the window of Chris- It is hard to say, but certain it is that at the very instant | topher Waison’s money-changer's shop. ° they appeared around the New Chambers street corner of the The sudden and mysterious disappearance of the broker had’ house of the three doors he retreated precipitately into the | served to perplex Detective Jeliffe greatly, as had also the find- back room, leaving the shop and all it contained to the mercy | ing of the coin in the window; also the statement made later - of the old coin-dealer, who-was stamping up and down the | by Harry Ashmore that it was to the house of the three doors: floor, roaring like an enraged bull. he had followed the robbers of the old coin-dealer’s gold. No sooner had he entered the room behind the shop than the Quieting Peter Stanton as best he could, the detective per- door was violently slammed, and Harry—wlio had regarded | suaded him to leave the money-changer’ s shop at once rain re- this new move with some amazement—saw a hand suddenly | turn to his home. projected from behind a thick curtain which concealed the in-| “I'll call round at the stand to-morrow and have a talk with _ terior of the back reom from view.’ you,” he said. “If Ashmore is right, and this’ Mr. Watson, _ By the hand a small circular card of a red color was sus-| whom I have known to bear an excellent reputation for many ’ ; Panted to a nail in such a manner as to hang down behind the | years, is really in league with burglars and thieves, nothing © panes of the Blass door. short of the keenest vigilance will ever serve to expose him in = en the hand was suddenly althieaiin and all sound in| his true colors. One more move such as you made to-day will. the back room ceased. throw him on his guard, ifit has not done so already, and will - It was then that Detective Jeliffe entered. most effectually prevent us from accomplishing anything at He was recognized by Peter Stanton at once, who, in his ex- all.” ; _, cited way, began to éxplain, It was some hours after taking leave of Harry Ashmore and Jenkins, the clerk, meanwhile, with one hasty glance at the | the old coin-tlealer that Detective Jeliffe, in accordance with a he back door, had taken his place behind the counter, and stood | previous engagement, presented himself at the door of the , _ there with his face as unexpressive as a block of wood. millionaire. te a “Now see here, Mr. Stanton,” said the detective, when the Now, John Jeliffe was no stranger to Mr. Van Cortland. old man had stated his case, “there is no. use in making so| During the latter part of that gentleman’s' business career ‘ much noise about all this. Mr: Watson is a respectable and |he had. been president of the Nineteenth National Bank on | _ honest man. If there is anything. wrong he will, no doubt, | Wall street, and it was through his instrumentality that Jeliffe ay make it right. Jenkins, where is Watson—f thought you sald had gained the appointment of special detective for the bank, he was here?” which position he had held for several years at a large salary, “No,” replied the clerk, “I said he was out.” rémaining in it, in point of fact, until Mr: Van Cortland him- — - “But I am certain——’ self had resigned. You must have misunderstood me, ‘Jeliffe. Mr. Watson had In several instances had John Jeliffe been. niplieod profes- u an important engagement which he was just going to keep. J| sionally by the millionaire, who had conceived for him a very said he was out.” | high regard: “It’s no such thing!” cried Harry, speaking up: “The man He was not surprised, therefore, at having received that ae § suppose to be Mr. Watson just went into that back room.” afternoon a summons from Mr. Van Cortland to attend him at : “You. are mistaken, young man,” said the clerk, stolidly. | bis house at the hour of eight. : af ELE. followed me out of the shop. There, if you don’t believe It was in response to that summons that he now found him- ‘me look fot yourselves,” self in the elegantly furnished library of the Van. Cortlan And Jenkins, the clerk; threw open the door’ \ading to the mansion, face to face “with its proprietor, who, to all appéa | behind Christopher Watson’ $ shop. | ance, was im anything but an ‘easy. frame of mind, H Christoph Ww tson had gon re ; he 3
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THE “THREE DOORS. “You shall haye it, Mr: Van Cortland. I owe my success in| another step I want to know more of Durand and his methods. life to you. If there 1s anything I can do to serve you, you| Find out all you can about him and I'll pay you well.” have only ‘to command.” It was after midnight when Detective Jeliffe left the house “You can do much. That you may understand the matter | of Mr. Van Cortland. ‘i fully, let me ask you to read this paper, which I have prepared As he walked slowly down Fifth avenue, now dark and de- for you alone. Swear to me, Jeliffe, that without my consent; serted, his mind was filled with many strange thoughts. ~ you will never disclose its contents to a living soul. Swear it “A blue heart,” he muttered, “a blue heart. The young man before you begin.” calling himself Henry Mudge is not the only person, of my ace} “You have my promise, Mr. Van Cortland. It is as good as} quaintance so provided. If I chose I could bring to Mr. Van. : “my oath.” Cortland a young man on whose breast is a blue heart. whieh _ “Then read. I will not interrupt you until you have fin-| I stand ready to swear has been there since he was a child.” ished.” The thought had scarcely takén hold on his mind when he And Detective Jeliffe read. became conscious of the sound of hurried footsteps ahead of _ As the contents of the paper were nothing less than a brief | him. ' and succinct account of the history of the Minford brothers, Looking up, Detective Jeliffe saw three men run across s Fitth . disclosing the identity of Mr. Van Cortland with Alfred Min-| avenue and leap the wall of Central Park. of ford, the reader will not wonder that as he read the face of Two of them were rough-looking characters whom he had John Jeliffe betrayed some surprise. never seen before, a the third, much to his surprise, was” age - The paper closed with the account of the interview between | Christopher Watso the Chambers street money-changer, re [r: Van Cortland and the head of the firm of Durand & Co., | whom he had van par years. © ae : and of the reception of Joe Doubleday, alluded to under the The two rough-looking men carried large, heavy bags on r ‘name of Henry Mudge, of course, into his house. i their backs, and by their peculiar actions excited the sus- _ As he read the old millionaire watched him narrowly. picions of the detective at once. a: “Tt is my confession, Mr. Jeliffe,” he said, slowly, as the de- Hurrying forward, he also leaped the wall, “aia searoliea ei tective handed the paper batk. everywhere for the men among the trees of the park, but -with- Beso see. : , | out success. sa “I suppose you despise me, guilty wretch that I am?” The next morning, when Detective ‘Jeliffe opened the new: ty ‘am surprised—greatly surprised. That I am bound to} paper, he was not a little surprised to read the account of ~ -eonfess.” burglary which had taken place the night before at a certain “But you will not betray me?” house on Fifth avenue opposite the park. ¢ “You have my promise.” The family being in the country, the house had been left i _“Knd I rely upon it. Iam not as bad as you may think me. | charge. of the servants, was jegtered and robbed. while they “Tt was never my intention to abandon my brother’s son. I | slept. =? placed him with the man Caleb Crutchett in St. Louis, and . Taking up a city directory, Detective Jeliffe compared the 2 would have cared for him through life. I did so for a time, | number of the burglarized house carefully with the table ree + in fact, but both Crutchett and the boy suddenly disappeared, | streets. and I never was able to learn anything concerning their where- “Whew!” he exclaimed, giving vent to a prolonged’ whistl abouts until I was confronted by this man Durand.” “As true as I live, the house is directly opposite to the poin ae “and even then you did not tell the truth, if you will allow | where I saw brother Watson and his friends TRY over - the e to say so,” replied the detective gravely. “If this young |} wall into Cans Park!” an calling himself Mudge is really your nephew, you have deceived him into thinking that Mudge is his real name and ; CHAPTER XVI. nob the false one which you bestowed upon him, that he is the >, ‘ f a sister who never had any existence, instead of the son mall CALEB ORUTCHETT. your deceased brother, to whose estate you owe the founda-| Turse were trying days for Mr. Van Cortland: ane as h on of all eOuE wealth.” knew only too well, the moral suffering which he bisa now ag know i ” groaned the banker. “I am a miserable wretch. | dergoing was not half what he deserved. want to ay what is right, but I have come to entertain grave| Since his confession to John Jeliffe, the detective, ; ‘a full eck bts. whether or no this young man is actually my nephew | has elapsed without anything having been heard from the j fter all. You noticed the mention of the blue heart?” | dividual at all. : m Yeu? . : To be sure he might have written, seciaca ta rs Fal a is that which excites my suspicions. During the passage | but feeling certain that Jeliffe. would hastén to him brother from Europe, after the death of his wife, the he had anything to report, this was spa ape the m ‘on the ship tattooed a blue heart on the breast of the | bled millionaire hesitated to do. F hart : ittle a iow, then not over two years old. I have taken oc-|, The fact was Mr. Van Cortland was not quite | as n to examine this mark again during the night while the] was inclined to paint himself, nor as he had be _ who claims to be my nephew slept, and I am as- others, although his crime had been black en ugh, t it/was placed on his breast quite recently.” ' | Po be sure he had abandoned his infant nephew in | sed! And \ with the intent to deceive you, of course!” many years before, had apprehended the ie oy ; a Tt looks so. Jeliffe, do you know this man Durand?” | changed his name to conceal the crime. S53 Van Cortland, he is as foxy an old scoundrel as ‘ever , But this, though bad enough in be owas: not 1 - I have ‘suspected hiin of blackmail and of many deliberate design. , , but I have never been able to bring my reeeD ee ; Deeply in debt, the man had cony Tr ds is
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Vern gb Bl THREE DOC _ It was then that the man yielded to the tempter. Since the world believed him dead, he would die to the world. ‘ Placing the child in the care of one Caleb Crutchett, whom . he had known in. Boston in his youth, Alfred Minford changed his name to Alfred Van Cortland, came to New York and be- gan his speculations there. He was successful from the very start. Wealth poured in upon him, fortune favored him as he had never dared to hope. _ At last he began to think of the boy to whose money he owed all this success. : The thought came too late. Caleb Crutchett had disappeared and the boy with him. Perhaps Mr. Van Cortland did not search as vigilantly as he — might have done; at all events, he never sea ae either the man or the child. : Now, in his old age, he was more than anxious to make - amends; but had the real Henry Minford been found? As has been already stated, Mr. Van Cortland greatly doubt- ie ed this, and the reader knows how justly. The more he saw of Joe Doubleday the more confident he became that the young man was an adventurer and a fraud and ‘that he himself was the victim of a deep-laid plot. = Although he had been again visited by Durand & Co., and 5 threatened with immediate exposure unless he paid over the ‘million of dollars and signed a will according to the compact agreed upon between them, Mr. Van Cortland still hesitated. He was willing to make full restitution to his brother’s son, but he must first be sure that. that son actually existed in the ‘perso nm of the young man calling himself Henry Mudge. é was still hesitating, when one afternoon, as late as five k, pes started to walk—entirely in opposition to his usual business up Broadway. — brain "was List Se and he wanted to think. He was denis became aware that a ‘short, thick-set man with one eye, who hurried past him, had turned and darted one igs } at his vace. The eres eve instantaneous, and it ‘was no sooner taken ad evidently recognized om Mr. Van Cortland a person 1e sought to avoid; while the mere sight of the face of | borhood of Union Square; the actors no less persons than De- — yed man had caused the millionaire to turn as pale as eb eae cat both Durand & Co. and his ephew had assured him had died in England some |. ‘el regardless ‘of his surroundings, Mr. Va Cortland ‘Se. had now, become of the | most “TJ’m getting desperate,’ he muttered. “Let them do their worst, and I can be no more wretched than I am at present, Come what may, I’m bound to know the truth.” He resolved to follow the man ahead of him to his destina- tion, and confront him face to face. That destination proved—and not very greatly to Mr. Van Cortland’s surprise—to be the office of Durand & Co., on the Oak street side of the house of the three doors. : Without having once looked behind him, the one-eyed man entered and the door was shut. With every step the agitation of the millionaire had in- creased. Bent upon knowing the truth, he had now worked himself up to that pitch where he was utterly regardless of conse. ~— quences. Without, hesitation he ran up the steps of Durand & Co.’ s. office and disappeared through the door, It was six o’clock. At seven he had not reappeared. Durand & Co.’s clerk had left for home half an hour before, ; locking the door of the office behind him. : Bight o’clock, and still no appearance of Mr. Van Cortland. Nine—ten—eleven. The street has grown dark and utterly deserted. Twelve o’clock has come. , It is midnight. Six hours ago Mr. Van Cortland passed through the door of Durand & Co.’s office, following the one-eyed man whom he be- lieved to be Caleb Crutchett. The one-eyed man passed out at a little eter seven. Mr. Van Cortland has not yet appeared. CHAPTER XVIL ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. “Come, fill em up once more! The treat’s on me this time. There you go! That’s the talk. We'll make a night of it——~ By George, no, we sae either—I’m husted—-bavert got a cenbh’’ sng The scene was in a fashionable drinking-saloon in the neigh- E tective Jeliffe and Mr. Henry Mudge—late Joe Doubleday, 1 ares | street fakir, who stood drinking together before the bar. Now, although he had failed to report to Mr. Van Cor land, Detective Jeliffe had by no means been idle. “In addition to his watch on the house of the three doors closely maintained at certain hours of the day, she had fou time to cultivate Joe ‘Doubleday, who, in his new character of a millionaire’s nephew, had been cutting a wide swath about town. Mr. Van Cortland and his daughter, he enjoyed ‘one por ton of his new life immensely. i That was frequenting fashionable clubs, hee races. | other places of resort, making new acquaintances and tal loud and large, as became the nephew of a millionaire. Under these circumstances it had not been geen for | tective Jeliffe to form his acquaintance. + j Passing himself off as a rich idler from a western cit ane picked up Joe at Jerome Park, as the saying’ goes, an ‘ing: se eral days had been. engaged in the somewhat u seed the young 3 man dry ; d beer
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THE THREE DOORS. - On that subjeci, drunk or sober, his lips were tightly sealed. On this particular evening—it was the one on which Mr. Van Cortland had visited the house of the three doors—the de- tective had been “working his man” for five mortal hours, and, working him in vain. : ; He had succeeded in getting Joe into a state of maudlin in- ‘ebriation, but not a solitary item of importance had he learned thereby. _ “Well, if you are busted, so am I,” he said, as they turned ‘away from the bar. ‘I dropped all my spare cash on the race track to-day. I was in hopes to borrow of you, but I see I shall have to wait until to-morrow, when I can draw on my bankers for a thousand or two.” They parted at the corner of Fear th avenue and Fourteenth street, promising to meet at the race track next day. -. “Draw’n yer bankers—so’ll I,” muttered the ex-street fakir, thickly, as he watched his late companion disappear across Union Square, bound ostensibly for a certain fashionable hotel. “You'll wait till fomoore ow, will yer? I can’ t ete ee dates The idea seemed to have taken full possession of him, and he ntinued muttering to himself as he rolled unsteadily down ti “IT can’t keep my end up on wind, nohow, and there’s no use tryin’, Ain’t fulfilled his contract, neither. Promised I ‘should marry Helen Van Cortland. How can I marry her when ee Bees me? He promised I should have half a million dol- Possibly, if Joe Doubleday had been, sober enough to per, ive that Detective Jelifie was stealing cautiously after him he graphically Sivechacd it—another. ball. ravi all” had its effect. : P 3 | Panl’s chufchyard as best he could. | He went in, but did not come out. Hight o’clock—nine—ten—eleven came and went. Midnight came at last, and still Joe Doubleday did not bear ; pear. ‘ CHAPTER XVIII. | : re HARRY ASHMORE RECEIVES A LETTER—DISAPPEARANCE OF NO. 33 “Torn you about my lost son,” said Peter Stanton, the old coin-dealer. “It’s a long story, boy, and a sad one. ae to think of it as little as I can.” : It was Harry Ashmore that the old man thus eianaret They were sitting in their room in the Varick street. tene- ment-house, the supper table having been just cleared away. ey Halt-past six was the hour, and the time the evening of the visits paid by Joe Doubleday and Mr. Van Cortland | 5 the house of the three doors. i Since the occasion of his discovery of ‘the ancient wie coin in Christopher Watson’s window the old” man ie been able to leaye the house. : S , The trouble was barr or, to be more explicit, : matic gout. i It was an old cauegiatat of his, always worse. atter due excitement than at other times. : ‘Tt appeared the ett morning. When Peter = leave the house. _ The lapse of several days, Mbcan serving fat some to mitigate the trouble, had still left him a close pri his room and. ehair. Meanwhile, Harry set ne At this involuntary compliment Peter ‘Stanton fretted fumed exceedingly. ee He wanted to be up and doing. aia) Urabe os eae Nothing had been’ heard from Detective Jelitte, | No sk ep “whatever had been aes toward Solving; the > mystery coin. ree iy, To the ‘best’ of his ability Harry strove | to Sloe th man’s spirits. ; ep In bie abi eases against fate—and he. was: t a ag been preceded by many similar balls at short inter-| 12a “more concerning his son, ‘receiving the answe oe maudlin inaensibility that he aia not know whether he £ eee © ers street or New Chambers street? where the two streets. came together; he ae sadly. | how I cannot bring myself ‘to age s twenty years ago.’ Be fei “T don’t like | to think of it,” he continued, ey suppose I ought to believe. my do “But how aid you nse hime” a nse ous of the fact that the house of the three ¢ doors | j pposite to where he stood, but which of the three ‘ of Hemmel = Co. was a little more than ‘oe ; & avement, everthing seemed to swim be- ie erica, left India, Eg But
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THE THREE DOORS. reply. My funds, which were in his hands, seemed also to have disappeared, for drafts made by me were returned dishonored “As soon as I could arrange matters I hurried back to Bos- ton to investigate, there finding, to my surprise and horror, that my brother, proving unworthy of the trust which I had reposed in him, had possessed himself of all my property, taken my little boy and departed, no one knew where.” “What was your son’s name?” asked Harry, seeing that the excitement of the old man was increasing every instant, and desiring to change the subject. “His name,” replied Peter Stanton, “Rat! tat! tat! Rat; tat! tat!” A sharp knock on the door cut short his reply. Rising in answer to the summons, Harry threw open the door. et A plainly dressed man stood without. “Ts this Mr. Stanton’s place?” he asked. SECIS. “TJ want to see a young man named Harry Ashmore, who lives with Mr. Stanton. I have got a note for him.” “Tam Harry Ashmore. You may give the note to me.” The man took a sealed envelope from his pocket, placed it in Harry’s hands and immediately started off down-stairs. “Won’t you wait for an answer?” “Nothing was said to me about any answer,”’ replied the man, and in @ moment more he had passed out of sight. Returning to the room, Harry Ashmore hastily tore open the envelope. The letter proved to be written on one side of a business sheet bearing the printed heading: “Hammel & Co. Reliable Servants Furnished. 99 1-2 Chambers street, New York.” It read as follows: ‘ ” “was—— Ss “Tf Harry’ Ashmore will call at the office of Hammel & Co., ~ at the above address, this evening at half-past seven o’clock, he will receive information which the writer believes may lead to the discovery, of a part, at least, of the old coin stolen from Mr. Stanton on the night of the —th inst. HaMMeEx & Co.” “Pp, §.—~Be prompt, and come alone.” “Well!” exclaimed Harry, “if this isn’t the most mysterious thing. What do you think of it, Mr. Stanton? Read the letter for yourself.” ; “It is strange,” repeated the old man, after miancinee over Be rthe letter, ‘Hut still I think you had better go. Hammel & Co. “aa, are a well-known and reliable firm, so there can be no danger; ' ‘though why they should have addressed you instead of myself is what I cannot understand.” “Perhaps they knew you were sick, and that I was attending _to the business?” “Tt. is possible, certainly, but I can’t see how they found it out. You are not afraid of any trap?” “Trap! Oh, dear, no!” laughed Harry. would any one want to entrap me for? I’ve got nothing to lose. | Pr just go right around there and see what it is all _ about.” _ And he did so. Sic eAt, half-past seven o’clock precisely Harry Ashmore entered | the office of Hammel & Co., at the house of the three doors. A _ Evidently the communication which he was to receive is a “What in the world Y Wehtnihe.ten o’clock have come and gone, sin still the ‘young man had not reappeared. even o’clock—yes, and twelve followed, and still no sign! As the house. of the three doors had swallowed up Mr. Van 2 Cortlan ae Joe Doubleday, so with Harry Ashmore. CHAPTER XIX. DENNIS O’DAY IN THE TOILS. ANnp where was Detective Jelifre atl this time? If he had undertaken to watch the house of the three doors and seek to penetrate into its secrets, surely now at the time of these three mysterious disappearances he PueHe to have been on hand. We left the detective shadowing Joe Doubleday, and that proceeding, if maintained without interruption, ought to have brought him to the house of the three doors. As a matter of fact, that is just what it did, and it was in front of the mysterious house on the triangle that the inter- ruption occurred. Detective Jeliffe had not suffered his vigilant eye to be re- moved from Joe Doubleday during his ride down-town, his drinkings in Chatham street, nor until the moment when, by . * far too much overcome to know what he was about, the as- sumed nephew of Mr. Van Cortland tumbled into CHTSHR Re: Watson’s money-changing shop and disappeared. . No sooner had Joe entered than the detective gave vent to a prolonged whistle. “Ah, ha! my friend, so this is where you hail. from, is it? Christopher Watson is then your backer? When‘ the nephew of Mr. Van Cortland comes to associate with burglars, surely there must be something wrong.” ay From the emphasis which the detective, ip his, muttered ex- <5 9 clamation, laid upon’ the word burglar, it would seem that he had not been idle since the night upon which he saw the- money-changer, with his pals and their well-stuffed bags, leap the wall of Central Park. Hvery means had been exhausted to draw Christopher Wat- son into the meshes of the law on the charge of being con- cerned in the burgiary on Fifth avenue, Be: so far all aay failed. “Mr. Watson is out of town,” was the invariable reply of Jenkins, his clerk, to all who inquired for him at the house of the three doors. The suspicions excited by Detective Jeliffe, at seeing 5 Doubleday enter this place, were of the gravest kind. Of course he did not guess that it was all a mistake—that Joe did not know the money-changer at all, but had believed in his muddled condition of brain that he was entering the office of Hamme! & Co. % As John Jeliffe halted for a moment on the opposite side of the street, wondering how he had best. proceed, he was startled: by hearing a sound behind him as ofa man falling down a flight of steps. Turning suddenly, he perceived that this was exactly what had occurred. At the Bano of a short flight of steps leading down into a cellar close to where he stood he perceived a man on his hands ; and knees endeavoring to regain the perpendicular, which, as he was in the last stages of inebriation, he seemed to find an exceedingly difficult thing to do. cOpEry Tt was Dennis O’Day. Detective Jeliffe recognized him ae a plants, having known © the man by sight for years. ~~ / gE He was dressed in a fashionable suit, now well plastered © 7 with mud, while a tall hat of the latest style lay all crushed — and battered where it had fallen, at the foot of the steps, ; Now, in his persistent search-for the gold stolen from the old coin-dealer’s rooms in Mulberry street, sauiteas Jelifte had not forgotten Dennis O'Day. : He had undertaken to visit every junk-shop inthe eity, but Dennis, having closed up the Cellar and moved away, Bey had searched for hint in ae ait ve "
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THE THREE DOORS. which bad been discovered the Hgyptian gold coin, had taken it into his head to disappear just-at the time of the robbery? Many times John Jeliffe had thought so. Now was the op- . portunity to prove whether or no his surmise was correct. Drawing back out of sight, he remained with his eyes fixed upon the junk-dealer. His movements were peculiar and erratic, to say the least. - With the utmost difficulty he managed to stagger to his feet, and for.a time stood there swaying back and forth before the eellar door, like a sailboat at anchor in a gale. He seemed to be ip pliien to take something from the pocket of h‘s pantaloons. Making a desperate dive into that receptacle, he first brought up a jack-knife, gazed at it unsteadily, thrust it back, and then with another dive brought it up again. ; This time he flung the knife angrily down, and; making another attempt at the pocket, succeeded in producing a silver _doliar, a button-hook, a foot-rule, and at last a key. -. Ths appeared to be the object desired. ie A long and desperate attempt to fit the key to the lock of the . s cellar door followed, which being accomplished at last, the anor flew suddenly inward, Dennis O’Day following it and fall- ing all in a heap upon the floor. 7 ip was while the fellow was trying to pick himself up that 4 Detective Jeliffe slipped in. The cellar was totally dark, and Dennis muttered as he went fas _ tumbling about. ” ; Between the darkness and the noise the detective had but lit- tle difficulty in gaining the concealment he sought. Although the sign was down, and Dennis himself had van- _ ished from the neighborhood, tt did not appear that any of the _ Stock had been removed. From behind a great. pile of pags John Jeliffe found no trou- = in watching all that took place. - Having recovered his balance at last, the inebriated junk- dealer proceeded, with many tackings to the right and left, to shut the door—he did not attempt to lock it—and light a lan- rn, which threw a feeble glimmer about the cellar, revealing a hopeless confusion of rags, old iron, articles of broken furni- and the like. fs That the man had come here for a definite purpose there could ‘be no doubt. * @ staggered toward a great tierce in one corner of the cel- ur, and began throwing out the pieces of serap iron with which ite appeared to be filled. “Begobs,” he muttered, “I’m capitalist, I am. ‘Gusta thing Ww. Got an’ ‘mount of money. Run fer alderman by this e nixt year. Bes’ thing ev’ did ‘nall my life. Get.square old Watson now—with Crutchett, too, blast his blinkin’ . Vl show ’em—I’ll show ’em. Ah, ye beauties, here you ee. -Whin the locker is ints it’s Denny O’Day what ae 8, ay Day ae unable to ateatenten himself ay: nae when Detective if sprang forward to help him, he found his arms thrust | : elbows in a mass e geen a h : CHAPTER XX. wars BECAME oF MR. VAN y CORTLAND. . Clark, Durand’s confidential eink: sat ee the desk, ioe as unconcerned as possible, He bowed politely to Mr. Van Cortland as he entered, and asked him what he wished. “T want the man who just came into this office. to see him.” The clerk smiled blandly. " “Really you must be mistaken, Mr. Van Cortland,” he gnid., “No one has been in for half an hour beside yourself.” “But I know better. I saw him enter with my own eyes.” “Do you see him now?” “Of course not.” “Then I don’t think you will. but ourselves, as you ought to be able to perceive.” “Say to Mr. Durand that I want to seé him!” cried the banker, in a fury of rage. “You are not telling me the truth, — young man. I——” Ding!” A single stroke, as from a small call-bell, suddenly sounded in the office. 4 Without a word the clerk turned his back upon Mr. ‘Van- I demand Cortland, entered the private office of Durand & Co., and. be i ; appeared. i For a few minutes Mr. Van Cortland paced the floor nerv- ously. ‘ 2 Then, as the clerk did not return, he strode toward the door of the private office and grasped the knob. } It was fast. | Had Mr. Van Cor tland lost all self-control? shaw himself with all his aan cay ae the door rand & Co.’s private room. The door yielded. ‘ Notwithstanding his age, the millionaire was no weak the serews which held the guard of the lock were = the wood. But a surprise awaited him. He had fully expected to find at least Caleb Crutohett @ the clerk in the room, if not Durand himself. _ Instead, he found no one. - : ; The private office was vacant, although he haa ‘di a seen Mr. Clark pass ‘through the door. At that instant the sound of voices fell upon: ‘his ear. They seemed to come from underneath the floor. be _ With the quickness: of ahs aay Mr. Van Conta open ‘ cealed himself inside, us was well that he did so. ec floor without a trap-door was being slowly rais figure of the clerk came into view. As his eyes rested upon the open office door he u ‘Macatee of ha ini elses the trap, aun ran office outside. C Dee eo he returned, ana glanced has about the a bro tary et of a bell ' was Tae : Evin ao aie Mr. a seemed tof a that he There is no one in this office Sea f:2
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we es the Senne DakErRIIe the head of the private de- tective agency stepped into the’outer office, and could be heard talking with the clerk. ron The ‘subject of their conversation My Van Cortland could - only surmise. _ Probably it related to himself. ; “I’m glad he’s gone,” he heard Durand say, as he returned - to the inner office. “I’ll attend to his case, never fear. You may as well shut up and go home yourself, Mr. Clark. We have some private business to transact here.” The clerk obeyed. _ Meanwhile Mr. Durand, closing the broken door as well as he could, fell into conversation with the one-eyed man, little : imagining that every word uttered was being heard by the very person against whom his plottings were turned. ; -, “You are sure he recognized you?” was the first remark he ; mde to his companion. “Certain, Cap,” replied the one-eyed man. _ very fust thing.” te “And he followed you here?” - “That’s the size of it, If it hadn’t happened that Mr. Clark had tipped me with the wink that I was wanted below, he’d have caught me for sure.” ; “And what if he had caught you?” Durand replied, impa- “You can swear that you ain’t Caleb Crutchett, I sup- ‘you can swear you were never in St. Louis, that you “T seen that the ‘Yes, but I don’t want to, n was the dogged reply. “I’m a rd man, and have been a bad one, but I loved that there little feller as ee he had been my own son. _ When Hey nipped is sleeve across his sole remaining optic ina manner decidedly ae na “Gah iba thief, to sey the least. ae told, by? Joe Doubleday and Mr. pisand % ere was no longer any doubt about. it. } ) tective Jeliffe, with all his watching, ‘ied? oot un- gel ‘Mr. Van Ea had found out for himself. ee fia. ae “he miillionsine, who was to) he was to, as out, was. siarited by stan possible interest can my affairs be to you?” shade in the last window on the second story raised you come upstairs.” “O. K., boss. I won’t make no mistake.” Inside of two minutes the private office of Durand & Co. stood deserted. Caleb Crutchett had been let out into the street by Durand, who locked the door behind him. Then, opening the trap, the chief of the private detective bureau disappeared himself through the office floor. No sooner had the trap closed over him than the hand of Mr. Van Cortland was upon the knob of the closet door. The door refused to open. be According to his usual custom, the clerk had touched a spring which noiselessly secured the latch before departing for the night. i Stronger than its fellow in the office without, the closet door . refused to yield. to all the strength Mr. Van Cortland could exert. It was thus that the millionaire came to be detained within the house of the three doors. When midnight arrived he was still a prisoner. a CHAPTER XXI. HARRY ASHMORE CAUGHT IN A TRAP. “My name is Ashmore. this letter.” : Our hero had entered the intelligence office of Gomer Ree Co., in the house of the three doors, promptly on time, and ‘ laying down the letter he had received, thus addressed baa man behind the desk. He was a stout, elderly gentleman, wearing green Pe a ; By those who were familiar with the office he would have been at once recognized as Mr. Hammel himself. , There was no one else in the office at the time. The bust- ness of the day was. over, and the clerks had gone home long before. Mr. Hammel glanced at the youth through the green spec i tacles, then’ picking up the letter, he tore it into little Re ane threw it in the waste-basket. “So you are Henry Ashmore?” he asked at length. “That’s my name.” “You live with old Peter Stanton, the poe aenee “Ves, ” b) “And I suppose you would like to recover the gold coins stolen from his room some time ago?” “I certainly should. Your letter promised me as mugh, you are Mr. Hammel, as I take you to be.” “T am Mr. Hammel, and I can put you in the way of rane fs | ing those coins, but before doing so I want to ask a few ques tions concerning yourself.” y “Concerning myself!” exclaimed Harry, wondering! I was told to call here in answer i es “More than you think, ees ork?) “Not very long. Less than a year.” “Where did you come MPO. Be Ne hk eh aa “From Chicago.” » Shae oe 3 “Parents live out there?” ne “I know nothing. about wy, panel sir.” ark: “How His thapey ees At Sai “{ can’t tell you. I was’ Rroceet up by a man named Re f he knew who my parents were ‘he you, ne Have eee lived long in New ;
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“THE THREE DOORS. “Step into the next room, please,” sald Mr. Hammel, after| ear. “The end of the world has come for you, so you may as musing a moment. well get ready to die.” } : Harry obeyed. ‘ ~ Scarce was his. back turned than Mr. Hammel, iwaieing to- ward the last window, dsliberately raised the shade. At the same time a rough-looking man, with one eye, who had been loitering for some time past in a doorway opposite, : CHAPTER XXII. crossed the street and entered the office of Hammel & Co. ' 4 Mr. Hammel met him at the door and whispered a few hur- STRANGE DOINGS A'T THE HOUSE OF THE THREE DOORS. ried words in his ear. i Then he passed into the inner office and quietly closed the| Harry Asumore had walked deliberately into a trap. oe door. Now he saw it all. He should have heeded the advice of the Dy “Now, about those coins, young man,” he said, pleasantly. | old coin-dealer, and never come to this place alone—he realized ; “TJ believe old Mr. Stanton thougbt he found one of them the | 4+ now too late. ie other day in my neighbor Watson's shop.” _As he lay there on the floor of the dark passage, with ‘the: hot “He was sure of it,” replied Harry, eagerly. “If he had not | preath of his unseen assailant close in his face, it seemed as been taken sick he would have done something about it before.” _ “It is just as well he didn’t. I heard of the matter, and as 1! to hegin to'say his prayers. _ have had some reason to suspect my neighbor of crooked prac-| But the blow which he was expecting we not tall, tices, I undertook a private investigation on my own account.” “You did?” ; : “Yes, I have no desire to fidvé a thief and a burglar for a meighbor.. Perhaps you don’t happen to know that my office a tile ath ig : onnects with/ his by way of a passage opening from that door ehind you. You see, originally this triangular building was. | one dwelling, These connecting doors have been nailed up I caused this one to be opened yesterday, and fol- i lowing ur up the passage, came across these in the room 1 behind Ar. Watson’s shop.” The footsteps were siamistnektede by the sudde as Mr. Hammel spoke he placed in the hand of Harry Ash-| of alighted lantern, borne in the ‘hand of a man, i fi. oe ‘more a Pea es of © PBHAe gold coins, which Be took from a It was Mr. Hammel and it was not. ‘y intelligence office had worn, but the man was ihe spectacles, but instead gazed down upon Harry Ashmore wi a pair of piercing black eyes. : ae, + ’ con} Then came the voice—ah! that told the tale. Ral at “That's the boy, Crutehett,” 4 se: said, lice station aa ane what we have thuind: eG 4 in such a manner as to eusbio’ him to 8 “Of course I'll go,” cried Harry. “I felt sure thet man Wat- ¢ n had a hand in se matter, and I know these to be Mr. Stan- piaiehb IT had ‘pabtibg his case. Aes shall ‘dey ‘ '- |makea more thorough job of it this time.” Mowe will, go now,” said Mr. ‘Hanimel, rising, “watson | “The job. will be thorough enough, boss, ere ready closed his place, and we run no isk. Neverthe- ‘growled Crutchett, “But, I say, this here’s a ‘fine, lik S, Tu take this revolver. with me. By the way,” I pusceeg ing, Jad. Can’t we ship him off to sea. somewhere x i evi gy that the. arouse die. Bae ES ell, it don't matter. This Mey do for both of us. tee ia! eae us eee ‘since. pened “the: door previously indicated, revealing: Den s os I would have had ‘beyond. mi aca door ropen,” Sad Mr. hice We: may want as |b
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THE threw open a door, revealing a flight of steps leading down to the regions below. “Yes, When you reach the bottom, the well is just off to the Tisate df “But how be I going to see?” “T’ve left a lantern down there for that purpose.” “Ain’t you comin’ down?” — “Not at all, I have no wish to be a witness to what you are about to do. I don’t propose to hire a horse and drag the cart _ myself.” a “Well, all right then, here’s a go,” muttered Crutchett, pick- ing up the pinioned youth and throwing him over his shoulder as though he had been a sack of meal. “It won’t take me long to fix him. [ll be back in a moment or two.” The man who held the lantern turned away to avoid the ap- pealing gaze of Harry Ashmore as Caleb Crutchett bore him down the cellar stairs. _ "The moments passed. _At the head of the stairs the man stood waiting, his ear bent Soin ce catch every sound. ; To his excited mind it seemed as though he could hear the low murmur of voices issuing from the depths below. he What was his accomplice about? Not talking with his victim, surely? “Ffello, down there! What are you waiting for?” he called, fee. forward. t Receiving no answer, he was about to descend when Crutch- ett suddenly bounded up the stairs and clutched him by the ; throat. a: “You miserable scoundrel!” he shouted, “you knew it—you new it. The blue ‘heart is on his breast, and you knew it! _ You would have had me kill the boy!” Crack! Crack! The: man had-wasted no time in speech. Shaking off the grasp of the one-eyed burglar i a mighty effort, he drew his revolver and fired twice. The ‘echo of the shots rang out through the secret passage. wh ne ‘the smoke cleared he found ber oi alone. ‘the d Wee quickly aiid! pressing a secret spring euch el ‘bolted it, the man thrust: the revolver in his pocket neard, As for the oes if he still lives +~? Help! help! Murder! They are crawling all ‘ake ’em off! take 7em off! Ab—h—h—h?” ‘hey ame ae from the cellar, but Heli ahead of him in the SS, mingled with sounds of breaking and crashing, as. ugh ome one were oe to force his way through the e Kt chalk the man seized the lantern and | Fe Catch him | way He Ip! help! elp!”. *): A alee ae ery w fo aH wed by A: prea Pandemonium bids Dah | i! “take him off! ‘This | ait ak aR war the ffice pene & Corer ae oats 8 , ‘THREE DOORS. windows which had been left by the burglars. PL ‘portion of the gold coins still. remaining in the ch ts, cilsing the lantern, hurried along Stanton not yet having returned ¢ i consciou ; up | floor. wis never known to have entered the intelligence office, now slipped out of Hammel & Co.’s door, and without stopping to — look behind him hurried away. CHAPTER XXIII. THE BROTHERS—JOE DOUBLEDAY IN A BAD PLIGHT. WHILE these events were transpiring on the inside of the house of the three doors, other and important events were tak- ing place without. Detective Jeliife had not been idie. In less time than it takes to tell it, after making his, re- markable discovery in the cellar of Dennis O’Day, the de- tective had collared that individual and marched him off to the —th precinct station, and related to the sergeant how he - had found him with arms buried to the elbows in a tierce of golden coin. cat At first the sergeant in charge of the station found it diffi ¥ cult to believe it. 7 “Jeliffe, you must be dreaming!” he exclaimed. ““T have known O’Day for years—I don’t believe he has twenty dollars to his name,” é And to this innocent remark was attr ibutablet the disclosure : that followed. ; Dennis O’Day was a born boaster. : " Had he been sober he would have known better; but with him drunkenness and boastfulness went hand in hand. © ; Immediately a turned upon the,sergeant and gave him the Y “Sure an’ I kin buy’n sell yez,” he roared, thickly. x “Pye gold enough to fill \tin bails instid of wan. Sure an’ 1 could buy the hull city of New York if I chose, and board uv alder- men to boot. ey yez don’t belave me, luk at that now—ena that.” And the stupid boaster pulled a great handful of gold piboor from his coat- eet and planked them down on the ‘sergeant! desk, They were ancient coins for the most Aare mice a fair. sprinkling of twenty dollar gold pieces appeared se - rest. old Peter Stanton and will attend to “pumping Dennis m} al Vl! get out of him everything he knows—never fear.” . The plan was put into execution at once. : £ So successful did the pumping process of the sergeant pro that before Dennis O'Day fell asleep in his cell, as he did soon after, he had exacted from him a full confession ‘of all, th: curred on the memorable night when going out of Donatello’s shop to weigh a bag of rags he had aap with a b aes i ; ; rea The way it happened was simple enough. aes ‘Dennis had seen the ladder leading up. to the old | cbt ‘Curiosity sent him up the ladder, and the ‘natural pensity of the man had caused him to help hims And as Bains told of ‘how
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TH gold, drawn upon a hand cart, the messenger sent out by the sergeant to secure the attendance of old Peter Stanton had returned to say that that individual could not be found. “Where did you go?” asked the detective. “Why, to Mulberry street, of course.” “Seeing that he hasn’t been living there in two months, it’s no wonder you didn’t find him,” exclaimed John Jeliffe. “TI’ll go for hime myself,” 7 It was after midnight when the matter was settled, ; Peter Stanton at first declared that he could never leave his rooms, but the news that a portion at least of his precious hoard had been discovered and was now at the station-house, caused him to change his mind. Of course he identified the coins at once. Then, after promising to see that Detective Jeliffe was liber- ally rewarded, he made the startling announcement that Harry ' Ashmore had received a summons from Hammel & Co. regard- _ ing the coins, had gone to their place early in the evening and Had not yet returned. Z _ Having heard the old man’s story, both the sergeant arid De- tective Jeliffe were inclined to regard it as a very serious af- ~~ fair. j “We'll go around to the house of the three doors at once,” said the latter. “I have suspected something crooked in that place for a long.time, and think it more than likely that Wat- son is at the battom of it all.” It was the blue heart that had aroused the suspicions of De- - tective Jeliffe. , Now that he knew that it Sas in front of Watson’s shop that the attempt had been made on Harry Ashmore’s life, he found the burglarious money-changer and his old employer, Durand. It was, perhaps, a quarter past twelve when, accompanied __by Peter Stanton and Officer ig he arrived at the house of the three doors. -_ ehanger’s door. “There's a crazy man in there, mister!” they cried, as the . Officers approached. .“Hark! Don’t you hear him. yell?” ‘They would have been deaf if they had not, for from the ‘shop of the money-changer the most horrible screams could be heard proceeding. ea Running up the steps, followed by the old coin-dealer, John - Jelifte burst in the door, while the officer drove back the rowd. They entered just in time to see ‘a wild, distraught looking _ figure disappear through a trap- door in the floor of the money- - changer’s shop. It was Joe Doubleday. Although his clothes were torn almost off of him, the de- je looked as Hong some terrible conflict had been in prog- ee while at the bottom of a flight of steps which could be nm opening from the trap-door the most unearthly yells ones now be heard. . me the delirium tremens,” aeatiared the detective. “The THREE ; himself wondering whether there was not collusion between _ As they approached it on the New Chambers street side they | the door with his latch-key, he crept up-stairs and entering *s were surprised to find quite a crawd collected about the money-| the private office, began hurriedly thrusting into his pockets ORE in the back room of his old quarters, the office of Durand & Co. There in the midst of a pile of furniture tumbled about in every direction was Joe Doubleday, dancing and shouting with maniacal glee. He had lighted the gas, and was pointing toward a closet, from which faint cries for help could be heard to proceed. “There he is! There he is!” shouted the infuriated man. “The devil is in that closet—I’ve cornered him. I broke through the floor—I found his secret hiding-place—lI’ve got him safe at last.” / A moment later and a strange scene was being enacted in Durand & Co.’s back room. Joe Doubleday lay stretched on the floor, shouting and yell- ing, held down by Detective Jeliffe’s ample form. Facing each other in the middle of the room stood the old coin-dealer and Mr. Van Cortland. The face of the- banker was pale, and his form trembled; his eyes were suffused with tears. “Brother!” he cried, extending his hands toward old Pater Stanton, who stood gazing at him wildly—“brother, thank . God that I find you still alive. Speak to me—speak and tell me that, though I have so deeply wronged you, you’can yet for- z give a penitent man after all these years.” i CHAPTER XXIV. . ad ee + THE MYSTERY OF THE THREE DOORS EXPLAINED AT LAST—THE END. Ir was at an early hour next morning that Mr, Hammel, of — Hammel & Co., appeared at the intelligence office in News Chambers street, no later, in fact, than six o’clock. y ¥ Of course he had no right to expect his clerk to be on hand at any such time as this, nor did he appear to; for, opening — certain papers which he took from the compartments of his — safe. P He had not been thus engaged more than five minutes whee he was surprised at hearing his own hame pronouneey:) from_ the outer room. me What could it mean? i He had not left the door open; how then could it be possi that any one had entered the place? if “Mr. Hammel, good-morning,’ exclaimed the well- known voice of Detective Jeliffe, presenting himself at the door of the private office. “T called to inquire if you could give me any ‘in. ‘formation as to Mr. Watson’s Rh esHepOUtss- Be is Nani ee Bx. the police.” ; . The keeper.of the intelligence office trembled. _ His eyes faRteA fire which the green spectacles effectually concealed. ; “I have no acquaintance with Mr. Watson,” he said slo “May I ask you by what means you found entrance to my o at this early hour? Be good enough to retire. We are n open for business yet. be } “Oh, I beg your pardon,” said the detective, politels. the liberty of opening your door with a key I heppa have,” and he immediately left the office, siete ies hind him as re Mate the strdet: Detective Jeliffe stood on the opposite side watehing house. “They are crowding me close,” he muttered, “Oh! bi only deal with John Jeliffe as L dealt with Crutchett. o fool them yet. Tu take a the gold m: can carry, al bef ri be t of New York
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THE THREE DOORS. Does Hammel & Co. control the movements of Christopher ~ Watson? We shall see. t Dropping the window-shade, Mr. Hammel retired to the pri- 5 ‘ wate office and closed the door. A moment later, had any one looked into the private’ office ' 3 Hammel & Co., they would have found it vacant. - Did Detective Jeliffe surmise this? a It would seem that he did, for, deserting his post shortly < ufter, he ran around the corner into Oak street just in time to «sneounter Mr. Durand, with a face as white as chalk, in the cvact of emerging from the house of the ioe doors on the Oak stv eet side. }No sooner did that individual perceive the detective than, sleimming the door in his face, he retreated inside the office of ' Prarand & Co. again, fastening it on the inside. - Here he stood viewing the scene of destruction wrought by Joe Doubleday the night before with staring eyes. “T was a fool to come here!” he hissed. “The detectives laave ransacked everything during the night. Have they found ‘the body of Crutchett? Is the boy alive or dead? I dare nof istop to think, much less to lok; There is but one chance left, ‘and I must take -it without delay, not stopping even for the gold.” 4 Thus speaking, he hastily descended the steps below the _ trap-door which stood wide open, and hurried along the pass- eige leading to Christopher Watson’s money-changing shop. e Now it was Duvand who entered the secret passage, but it was Christopher Watson himself who crept up the steps at the a ‘other end. ' Here the trap was closed, and he pressed the spring with , trembling hand. a es The trap-door flew open. Zs Before the man had time either to advance or retreat he felt himself grasped by the hair and dragged upward into the - room, “Up with your hands, Christopher Watson!” exclaimed the _ stern voice of Detective Jeliffe. “As Hammel, as Durand, or by a your Own proper eine, with which I now address you, the a house of the three doors shall know you no longer, for the law . knows you for ee you are, and will deal with you according to your deser And as he saw behind the detective Mr. Van Cortland, Peter aa) Stanton, the coin-dealer, and Harry, Ashmore, not to mention two stout policemen, the man of triple life made no effort at re- sistance, but quietly threw up his hands. eeu at settles it,” exclaimed John Jéliffe, joyfully, as he ipped on the handcuffs. “Gentlemen, there stands the king conspirators, blackmailers, burglars and frauds. “Call him Hammel, Durand or Watson, it is all the same. Th ‘mystery of the house of the three doors is a mystery no ae. a’ +) ig e of the three doops Acronis that Detective Jeliffe eons found Harry Ashmore in the pause: with Caleb Crutche and 1 there other things also. the hoard of gold coins stolen from the old cars dead. of the carriage which so nearly cost the old coin-dealer Ais Peter Stanton were the brothers, Alfred and Henry Minford, ; and that Harry Ashmore was none other than the old coin- — dealer’s long-lost son. : It was the bluc neart tattooed on Harry’s breast that settled © all doubts at last. : To tell of the trial of Christopher Watson—for such was his true name—and that of Dennis 0’ ‘Day is needless. Suffice to say that the whole plot against the banker was fully proven, ds was the fact that Watson and his accomplices had stolen the coin-dealer’s hoard. How he ever learned the story of Harry Ashmore was a mystery. ree Probably Crutchett could have thrown some light upon the matter had he lived. ea, Nor could Joe Doubleday help them any. = Although identified by several persons as the former street - fakir, Joe was able to communicate nothing, as he died of the’ delirium tremens that night, : How little—how very little he had gained through lending 3 himself to a rascally fraud! And how stand matters to-day with the actors in this tale? Thoroughly repentant, Mr. Alfred Van Cortland—he still” maintains the name—has made full restitution, not to his brother, but by the request of that brother to Harry Minford, his son. 4 The reconciliation is complete, and our hero, having received + = his father’s golden hoard also, which’ amounted to a full half - million, now forms ove of the inmates of their happy home. Rumor says he is soon to marry his fair cousin, Helen Vani Cortland—who, by the way, proved to have been the occupant life—but as to this we cannot positively say. * ray ce Dennis O'Day languishes in prison, and/is forced to work side by side in the foundry with his old enemy, Christopher — Watson, who is undergoing sentence for life, as his killing of Crutchett other than in self-defense could not be positively — proved. Doubtless Dennis wishes from the bottom of his heart that. he had been content to take his bag of satinets from Dona- tello’s shop on that memorable night, and to have left the gol alone—but then all evil-doers are apt to repent of their ies when it is too late. Against Clark, Jenkins and Bates, clerks in the oifes of 4 “Hammel & Co., » ‘Durand & Co.,” and Christopher ‘Watson nothing definite could be found. * their employer, but as there was no proof they were allowed to go free. tat Fortunately for our hero, he at least has no cause to ‘rest that fate was kind enough to throw him in the old conn er’s way. He has youth, wealth, ard hosts of friends. He has found a loving father, am uncle who, deep in fepant! ance, anticipates his every wish, not to allude to what. in the future may prove to be even more tender ties. © Under these circumstances it is exceedingly unlikely ae the boy whom we have, in this simple tale, known as lary, Ashmore, will ever Pegs THE oo OF THE ea! Doors. fre wx.) a eae AFLOAT AND ASHORE,” by Capt. “Thos. Hh. Wilson, which y be the next number (115) of Proce 8 Luck. zoe
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z A COMIC WEEKLY OF COMIG STORIES BY GOMIG AUTHORS The Only Weekly Series of Funny Stories Pub-— lished in the World. “SNAPS” will be issued weekly and will contain the cream o humorous stories, written by such well known writers of Comic Stories as PETER PAD, TOM. TEASER, SAM SMILEY and Others. Every number will consist of 32 LARGE PAGES, clear, bold type, and will be inclosedin a handsome illuminated cover. Each story will be complete in itself, and will be filled with rinted in' funny incidents and situations from beginning to end. If you enjoy a good laugh you should certainly place your or- der with your newsdealer for a copy of “SNAPS” every week. . ae 24 Union ae Tommy Bounce, the Family Mischief, by Peter Pad Tommy Bounce at School; or, The Family Mischief at Work and Play, by Peter Pad Two Dandies of New York; or, The Funny Side of Hverything, by Tom Teaser Shorty; or, Kicked Into Good Luck, ; by Peter Pad Shorty on the Stage; or, Having All Sorts of Luck, by Peter Pad Cheeky Jim, the Boy From Chicago; or, Nothing Too Good for Him, by Sam Smiley Skinny, the Tin Peddler, by Tom Teaser Skinny on the Road; or, Working for Fun and Trade, by Tom Teaser Tom, Dick and Dave; or, Schooldays in New York, by Peter Pad Mulligan’s Boy, by Tom Teaser ‘Little Mike Mulligan; or, The Troubles of Two Runa- ways, by Tom Teaser Toucghemup Academy; or, Boys Who Would Be Boys, by Sam Smiley Muldoon, the Solid Man, The Troubles of Terrence Muldoon, by Tom Teaser Dick Quack, the Doctor’s Boy; or, A Hard Pill to Swallow, by Tom Teaser One of the Boys of New York; or, The Adventures of Tommy Bounce, ‘ by Peter Pad Young Bounce in Business; or, Getting to Work for Fair, by Peter Pad The Muleahey Twins, by Tom Teaser Corkey; or, The Tricks and Travels of a Supe, by Tom Teaser or, Fun Before and Behind the by Tom Teaser Out With a Star; Scenes, Billy Bakkus, the Boy with the Big Mouth, by Com. Ah-Look Shorty in Luck, by Peter Pad by Tom Teaser | « 28 24 25 39 43 44 The Two Shortys; or, Playing in Great Luck, by Peter Pad Bob Short; or, One of Our Boys, by Sam Smiley Tommy Bounce, Jr.; or, A Chip of ‘tthe Old Block, by Peter Pad The Best of the Lot; or, Going His Father One Better, by Peter Pad London Bob; or, An English Boy in America, by Tom Teaser Nimble Nip, the Imp of the School, by Tom Teaser Two Imps; or, Fun in Solid Chunks, by Tom Teaser Joseph Jump and His Old Blind Nag, by Peter Pad Sam Spry, the New York Drummer; or, Business Be- fore Pleasure, by Peter Pad Spry and Spot; or, The Hustling Drummer and the Cheeky Coon, by Peter Pad; Three Jacks; or, The Wanderings of a Wait, by Tom Teaser Tumbling Tim; or, Traveling with a Circus, by Peter Pai Tim, the Boy Clown; or, Fun with an Old-Fashioned - Circus, by Peter Pad Sassy Sam; or, A Bootblack’s Voyage Around the World, by Commodore Ah-Look The Deacon’s Son;:or, The Imp of the Village, by Tom Teaser Old Grimes’ Boy; or, Jimmy and His Funny Chums, Muldoon’s Boarding House, by Tom Teaser The Irish Rivals; or, Muldoon and His Hungry Board- ers, by Tom Teaser The Muldoon Guard; or, The Solid Man in Line, by Tom Teaser by Peter Pad By Tom Teaser A Rolling Stone; or, Jack Ready’s Life of Fun, by Peter Pad | Black and White; or, Jack Ready’s Funny Partner, by Peter Pad Tommy Bounce, Jr., in College, “SNAPS” is for sale by all newsdealers or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 5 cents per copy, in money or postage stamps. Address FRANK LTOUSHY, Publisher, Bice asia ‘New York.
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} TEN CENT HAND BOOKS.—Continued from page 2 of cover. TAGE. 41, THE BOYS ‘OF NEW YORK END MEN’S JOKE} Containing a great varicty of the latest jokes used by the mous end men. No amateur minstrels is complete without this wonderful little book. No. 42. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK STUMP SPEAKER.— \Containing a varied assortment of stump ispeachies: Negro, Dutch a Trish. Also end men’s jokes. Just the thing for home amuse- and “amateur shows. 45, TUH BOYS OF NEW YORK MINSTREL GUIDE JOKE BOOK-—Something new and very instructive. Every hould obtain this book, as it contains full instructions for or- ng an amateur minstrel troupe. ver published, and it is brimful of wit and humor. It mtains a Jarge collection of songs, jokes, conundrums, ete., of PeVorronce Muldoon, the great wit, humorist, and. practical joker of day. Every boy who can enjoy a good substantial joke should etlin a copy immediately , OA ELOW.. LO BECOME AN ACTOR.—Containing com- + instructions how to make up for various characters on the 1267 together with the duties of the Stage Manager, Prompter, enic Artist and Property Man. By a prominent Stage Manager. HCUSEKEEPING. No 16. HOW TO KEEP A WINDOW GARDEN.—Containing fall instructions: for constructing a window garden either in town pt country, and the most approved methods for raising beautiful The most complete book of the kind ever pub- 30. HOW TO COOK.—One of the most instructive books ni" wei ever pirblished. It contains recipes for cooking meats, , and oysters; also pies, puddings, cakes and all kinds of and a grand collection of recipes by one of our most popular 87. HOW TO KEP WOUSE.—It contains information for gener boys, gitls, men and wonten; it will teach you how to ale. alinost anything around the house, such as parlor ornaments, e ackéts, cements, Aeolian harps, and bird lime for catching birds. ELECTRICAL. No. 46. HOW TO MAKE AND USI ELBE See gee A de- ETON of the wonderful uses of electricity and electro magnetism ; agetliey wach full instructions for making Hlectric Toys, Batteries, ; » dreorge Trebel, A. M., M. D. Containing over fifty il- JOnS. 64, HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL MACITINES.—Con- i j i i ical machines, induction ynamos, and many noyel toys to be worked by electricity. OR. Bennett. Fully illustrated. 67. HOW TO DO ELECTRICAL TRICKS.—Containing a h iim “COllection of instructive and highly amusing electrical tricks, Sopieng with illustrations. By A. Anderson. ENTERTAINMENT. NOW TO BECOME A VENTRILOQUIST.—By Harry v. ‘The secret given away. Wyery intelligent boy reading a. MULDOON’S JOKES.—This is one of the most original | f ie Boake of instructions. by a practical professor (delighting multi- Vides every night with his wonderful imitations). can master the art, and create any amount of fun for himself and friends. It is the ‘eatest book ever published, and there’s millions (of fun) in it. 20. HOW TO ENTERTAIN AN EVENING PARTY.—A ¥aluable little book just published. A complete compendium ames, sports, eard diversions, comic recreations, etc., suitable 7 parlor or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more for the > than any book published. BS, HOW LO PLAY GAMES—aA complete and useful little ; containing the rules and ks a of billiards, bagatelle, ceeunmon, eroquet, dominoes, 6 ‘Now 386. HOW TO: SOLVE CONU NDRUMS.—Containing all ile leading conundrums of the day, amusing riddles, curious catches , ad aE Laas ngs. Ni OW TO PLAY CARDS.—A complete and handy little ike the rules and full directions for playing Buchre, Crib- ino, Forty-Pive, Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, Pitch. All Tours, and many other popular games of cards. . HOW TO DO PUZZLES—Containing over three hun- sa puzzles and conundrums, with key to same. A ete book Wally illustrated. By A. Anderson. ETIQUETTE. TOW TO DO IT; OR, BOOK OF ETIQUETTR.—It fife. secret, and one that every young man desires to know | . There’s happiness in it. 233. NOW TO BEHAVE.—Containing the rules and quetie of good society and the easiest and most approved methods ippea Avie to good advantage at aie Balls, the theatre, church, oA drawing-room. rg DECLAMATIGN. } Re eaow. TO RECITH AND BOOK or RECITATIONS. } fAining the most popular selections in use, comprising Dutch t; Novices Saheeee Yankee and Irish dialect pieces, together ndard re OW TO ee COME A) SPEAKER.— Containing four- ns, giving. the different positions requisite to hecome vr, reader and elocutionist. Also containing gems from Jar authors of ict a poetry, arranged in the most se manner possib tow: DE BAT DP aieiie rules for conducting de- nes fo ep Saher questions for discussion, and the best matio the questions given. c SOCIETY. No. 3. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirtation are fully explained by this little book. Besides the various methods of handkerchief, fan, glove, parasol, window and hat flirtation, it con- tains a full list of the language and sentiment of flowers, which is interesting to everybody, both old and young. You cannot be happy ee one. No. 4. HOW TO DANCE is the title of a new, and handsome little book just issued by I'vank 'Tousey. It contains full histruc- tions in the art of dancing, etiquette in the ball-room and at parties. how to dréss, and full directions for calling off in al! popular square dances. _ Nov WOW TO MAKE LOVE.—A complete guide. to love, es and marriage. giving sensible advice, rules and etiquette to be observed, with many curious and interesting things not gen- erally known. No. 17. HOW TO DRESS.—Containing full instruction in the art of dressing and appearing, well at home and abroad, giving the selections of colors, material, and how to hi ee them made up. BBY No: 18. HOW . TO" BECOME: - BIBAT UL.—One of the brightest and most valuable little books ever given to the world. Everybody wishes to know how to become beautiful, both male and female. ‘The secret is simple, and almost costless. Read this book and be convinced how to become beautiful. BIRDS AND ANIMALS. No. 7. HOW 10 KEBP BIRDS—Handsomely. illustrated, and ‘containing full instructions for the management and training of the canary, mocking-bird, bobolink, blackbird, paroquet, parrot, ete. No. 89. HOW ‘LO RAISE DOGS, POULTRY, PIGEONS AND RABBITS.—A useful and instructive book. Tandsomely illustrat ed. By Ira Drofraw. No. 40. HOW TO MAKE AND SET TRAPS.—Including hints on how to catch moles, weasels, otter, rats. squirrels and birds. Also how to cure skins.. Copiously iUlustrated. By. J. Harrington Keene, 4 No. 50. HOW TO STUPY BIRDS, AND ANIMALS! valuable hook, giving instructions in collecting, preparing, pee a Mar preserving birds, animals and insects. No. 34. HOW TO KEBP AND MANAGE PETS.~—-Giving com- plete information as to the manner and method of raising. keeping, ; taming, breeding, and managing all kinds of. pets; also giving full instructions for making cages, ete. Fully exPlained by twenty-cight illustrations, making it the most complete book of the oe ever published. MISCELLANEOUS. No. 8. HOW TO BECOME A SCIENTIST. —A useful and in- structive book, giving a complete treatise on chemisiry ; also ex periments in acoustics, mechanics, mathematics, chemistry, and: (hie rections for making fireworks, colored fires, and gas balloons. ~This hook cannot be equaled. : No, 14. FIOW TO MAKE CANDY.—A complete hand-book for aa Re all kinds of candy, ice-cream, syrups, essences, ete,. ete: No. HOW TO BECOME RICH.—This wonderful hook pre- sents Bi with the example and life experience of some of the most — noted and wealthy men in the world, including the self-made men of our country. The book is edited by one of the most successful men of the present age, whose own example is in itself guide enough i those who aspire to fame and money. The book will give you the secret. No. 19. FRANK TOUSEY'S UNITED STATES DISTANCE TABLES, POCKET COMPANION ANT) GUIDE.W—Giving the official distances on all the railroads of the United States and Canada. Also table of distances by water to foreign ports, hack fares in the principal cities, reports of the census, etc.. ete. making it one of the most complete and handy hooks published. No. 48. HOW TO BECOME YOUR OWN DOCTOR.—A won- derful book, containing useful and practical information in the treatment of ordinary diseases and ailments common to every aerate Abounding in useful and effec tive recipes for general com- plaint No. 41. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK END MEN’S JOKE BOOK.—Containing a great variety of the latest jokes used by the most famous end men. No amateur minstrels is complete without this wonderful little book. r No. 53: HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS.—Con-!' taining valuable information regarding the collecting and arranging of deere and coins. WWandsomely illustrated. No: 58. HOW TO BEA DETECTIVE.—By Old King Brady, the world-known detective. In which he lays down some valuable and sensible rules for beginners. and also relates some adventures. and experiences of well-known detectives. No. 60. HOW TO BECOME A PHOTOGRAPHPR.—Contain- ing useful information regarding the Camera and how to work it; also how to make Photographic Megic Lantern Slides and other Transparencies. Flandsomely illustrated. By Captain W. De W. Abney. No. 62 62. HOW TO BECOME A WEST POINT MILITARY CADET.—Containing full explanations how. to sain admittance, course of Study. Examinations, Duties, Staf’ of Officers, Post Guard, Police Regulations, Fire Department, and alla boy should know to be a Cadet. Compiled and written by Lu. Senarens, rece of “How to Recome a Naval Cadet.” No. 63. HOW TO BECOME A NAVAL CADET.—Complete ine _ structions of how to gain admission to the Annapolis Naval — Academy. Also containing the course of instruction, descriptions of grounds and buildings, historical sketch, and everything a coe should know to become an oflicer in the United States ee abe and written by Lu Senarehs; Date of ieee to B | West, see Military. aig ; ;
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\ PLUCK © LUCK CONTAINS ALL SORTS OF STORIES. EVERY STORY COMPLETE, 32 PAGES. BEAUTIFULLY COLORED COVERS. PRICE 5 CENTS. 18 80 60 P- Gogihetie iu LATEST ISSUES. Fred Flame, the Hero of Greystone No. 1, by Ex Fire Chief Warden ; , Harry Dare; or, A New York Boy in the Navy, by Col. Ralph Fenton Jack Quick, the Boy Engineer, by Jas. C. Merritt Doublequick. the King Harpooner; or, The Wonder of the Whalers, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson Rube, the Jolly Seout and Spy. A Story of the Revolution, by General Jas. A. Gordon In the Czar’s Service; or, Dick Sherman in Russia, by Howard Austin : Ben o’ the Bowl; or, The Road to Ruin, by Jno. B. Dowd Kit Carson, the King of the Scouts, by an Old Scout The School-Boy Explorer's; or, Among the Ruins of Yucatan, by Howard Austin The Wide Awakes; or, Burke Halliday, the Pride of the Volunteers, by Ix Fire Chief Warden The Frozen Deep; or, Two Years in the Ice, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson The Swamp Rats; or, The Boys Who Fought for Washing- on, by General Jas. A. Gordon Around the World on Cheek, by Howard Austin Bushwhacker Ben; or, The Union Boys of Tennessee, by Col. Ralph Fenton The Rival Roads; or, From Engineer to President, by Jas. C. Merritt The Boy Volunteers; or, The Boss Fire Company of the by Ex Fire Chief Warden or, Bound to Make His Way, by Hal Standish A Story of the Great Rebel- lion, by General Jas. A. Gordon Bob the Waif. A Story of Life in New York, by Howard Austin Two Years on a Raft. by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson Always Ready; or, The Best Engineer on ithe Road, by Jas. C. Merritt ae With Buffalo Bill; or, Six New York Boys in the Wild Test, The Ghosts of Black Cliff Hal, by an Old Scout ‘ by Hal Standish The Island King; or, The Realms of the Sea, by Berton Bertrew Rory of the Hills; or, The Outlaws of Tipperary, by Corporal Morgan Rattler |- Columbia; or, The Young Firemen of Glendale, E by Ex Fire Chief Warden : by Allyn Draper by Jas. C. Merritt ‘own, From Bootblack to Senator; Happy Jack, the Daring Spy. Across the Continent in the Air. The Wolf Hunters of Minnesota, Larry Lee, the Young Lighthouse Keeper, { by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson | The White World; or, The Slaves of Siberia, by Howard Austin Headlight Tom, the Boy Fngineer, by Jas. C. Merritt The White Boy Chief; or, The Terror of the North Platte. by an Old Seout The Vhantom Fireman ; or, The Mystery of Mark Howland’s i by Ex Fire Chief Warden A Story of Exciting Adventure, by Howard Austin The Lost Treasure Ship; or, In Search of a Million in Gold, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson The Red Caps; or, The Fire Boys of Boylston, by Ex Fire Chief Warden A Scout at 16; or, A Boy's Wild Life on the Frontier, by an Old Seout Ollie, the Office Boy; or, The Struggles of a Poor Waif. i by Allyn Draper On Board the School-Ship St. Mary's; or, The Plucky Fight of a Boy Orphan, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson Fighting With Washington; or, The Boy Regiment of the Reyolution, by General Jas. A. Gordon Dashing Dick, the Young Cadet; or, Four Years at West Point, by Howard Austin Stanley’s Boy Magician: or. Lost in Africa, by Jas. C. Merritt The Boy Mail Carrier; or, Government Service in Minnesota, by an Old Scout Roddy, the Call Boy: or, Born to Be an Actor, _ by Gus Williams A Fireman at Sixteen; or, Through Flame and Smoke, , - by Ex Fire Chief Warden Lost at the South Pole: or, The Kingdom of Ice, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson ife, The Magic Mountain. 64 65 66 67 68 be 4 te Ww OANA] SOM100' rake ode alk] Cope Vokes) “1D 112 113 114 2 The Boy Silver King; A Poor Irish Boy; or, Fighting His Own Way, by Corporal Morgan Rattler Monte Cristo, Jr.; or, The Diamonds of the Borgias, by Howard Austin Robinson Crusoe, Jr., by Jas. C. Merritt Jack Jordan of New York; or, A Nervy Young American, by Howard Austin The Block House Boys; or, The Young Pioneers of the Great Lakes, y an Old Scout From Bootblack to Broker; or, The Luck of a Wall Street Boy, y a Retired Broker Highteen Diamond Eyes; or, The Nine-Headed Idol of Cey- by Berton Bertrew Through Flames to Victory, by Ix Fire Chief Warden or, The Mystery of Two Lives, by Allyn Draper The Floating School; or, Dr. Bircham’s Bad Boys’ Academy, by Howard Austin Prank Fair in Congress; or, A Bov Among Our Lawmakers, by Hal Standish by a Retired Broker by Allyn Draper by Jno. B. Dowd on, Phil, the Boy Fireman ; or, Dunning & Co., the Boy Brokers, The Rocket; or, Adventures in the Air, The Virst Glass; or, The Woes of Wine, b Wiil, the Whaler, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson The Demon of the Desert, by Jas. C. Merritt Captain Lucifer; or, he Secret of the Slave Ship, by Howard Austin Nat o’ the Night, by Berton Bertrew The Search for the Sunken Ship, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson Dick Dunean; or, The Blight of the Bowl. by_Jno. B. Dowa Daring Dan, the Pride of the Pedee, by General Jas. A. Gordon The Iron Spirit; or, The Mysteries of the Plains, by an Old Scout Rolly Rock; or, Chasing the Mountain Bandits, by Jas. C. Merritt Five Years in the Grassy Sea, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson The Mysterious Cave, by Allyn Draper The Fly-by-Nights: or, The Mysterious Riders of the Revo- lution, by Berton Bertrew The Golden Tdo}, by Howard Austin The Red House; or, The Mystery of Dead Man’s Ilnff, by Jas. C. Merritt The Discarded Son; or, The Curse of Drink, by Jno. B. Dowd General Crook’s Boy Scout; or, Beyond the Sierra Madres, by an Old Seout A Story of the American Revolution, by Berton Bertrew The Bullet Charmer. 5 On a Floating Wreck; or, Drifting Around the World, by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson The French Wolves, by Allyn Draper A Desperate Game; or, The Mystery of Dion Travers’ Life, ; by Howard Austin The Young King; or, Dick Dunn in Search of His Brother, Jas. C. Merritt Joe Jeckel, The Prince of Firemen. by Bx Fire Chief Warden ) The Boy Railroad King; or, Fighting for a Fortune, f by Jas. C. Merritt Frozen In; or, An American Boy's Luck, by Howard Austin Toney, the Boy Clown; or, Across the Continent With a Circus, ! by Berton Bertrew His First Drink: or, Wrecked by Wine, by Jno. B. Dowd The Little Captain; or, The Island of Gold, ; by Capt. Thos. H. Wilson The Merman of Killarney: or, The Outlaw of the Lake, by Allyn Draper A Story of the Arctic Regions, In the Ice. by Howard Austin 7 Arnold's Shadow; or, The Traitor’s Nemesis, by General Jas. A. Gordon The Broken Pledge: or, Downward, Step by Step, by Jno. B. Dowd by an Old Seout by Allyn Draper Old Disaster: or, The Perils of the Pioneers, The Haunted Mansion. A Tale of Mystery, No. 6; or, The Young Firemen of Carbondale, ‘ by Ex Fire Chief Warden Deserted ; or, Thrilling Adventures in the Frozen North, by Howard Austi A Glass of Wine; or, Ruined by a Social Club, ! Dowd by Jno. B. Dowd The Three Doors; or, Half a Million in Gold, by Tes. Cy Merritt For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price, 5 cents per copy, by FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York. THIS GIVES YOU FAIR WARNING! — That all the Numbers of the Best Weeklies Published are always in print and ean be obtained from this office direct, if you cannot procure them from any newsdealer. Cut out and fill in the following Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the books you want and we will send them to you by return mail. Ce em ee ee ee ew ew ee ew es FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York. Dear Str—Inclosed find .... ae comes, of WORK AND WIN, Nos. j0c.5. 0.2. 2.8.2 NATION Ciybarary oe chacsne otetightettpamyar. cckts ce “ . “ THREE CHUMS ““ : SSW CIS SAINT) Ta Cee ee ces —_, vie at Postage Stamps taken the same as money. eee tees see 6 6 ane o 66 610 66 9 6 oelata tm 61e elena 6 cents for which please send me: ... copies of SECRET SERVICE, Nos........ Der nt cy “ “ SNAPS ainadt . “ “© eni@ent Hand Books “ ..... “ Ce ey emtreetiandl MOGs... a svalaere sieeieanopl OMMMLics Temas oii eS EALOUN cos ci ieneR ee mm Ra st |