Pluck And Luck (no. 204) (1902 04 30)
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foissie iption $2.50 per year Enlered as Second Class Matter at the New Jork SL whinber %, 1898, by Frank Tousey No. 204. NEW YORK, APRIL 3 Price 5 Cents. seine NERS There, with her back to the frame of the loom, stood a young girl. body was bound with ropes to the loom. A clumsy gag was in her mouth.
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Each book consists of sixty-four pages, printed on good paper, in clear type and neatly bound in an attractive, illustrated cover. Wiest of the books are also profusely illustrated, and all of the subjects treated upon are explained in such a simple manner that any hild can thoroughly understand them. Look over the list as classified and see if you want to know anything about the subjects » @xemtioned. THESE BOOKS ARE FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS OR WILL BE SENT BY MAIL TO ANY ADDRESS ©ROM THIS OF FICE ON RECHIPT OF PRICE, TEN CENTS BACH, OR ANY THREE BOOKS FOR TWENZY-FIVE GENTS. POSTAGH STAMPS TAKEN THE SAMH AS MONEY. SPORTING. i Wo. 21. HOW TO HUNT AND FISH.—The most complete fiumting and fishing guide ever published. It contains full in- gtructions about guus, hunting dogs, traps, trapping and fishing, bien, eage? with descriptions of game and fish. o. 26. HOW TO ROW, SAIL AND BUILD A BOAT.—Fully emrated. Byery boy should know how to row and sail a boat. ‘all instructions are given in this little book, together with in- @#euctions on swimming and riding, companion sports to boating. No. 47. HOW TO BREAK, RIDE, AND DRIVE A HORSH.— complete treatise on the horse. Describing the most useful horses 3 business, the best horses for the road; also valuable recipes for | iiweases peculiar to the horse. . ». Ne. 48. HOW TO BUILD AND SAIL CANOES.—A handy Pe tok for boys, containing full directions for constructing canoes ef the most popular manner of sailing them, Fvrlly illustrated. i ‘My GC. Stansfield Hicks. ¥ FORTUNE TELLING. + Wo. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DRBAM BOOK.— _. Gemtaining the great oracle of human destiny ;*also the true mean- eg of almost any kind of dreams, together with charms, ceremonies, fama curious games of cards. A complete book. _ No. 23. HOW TO EXPLAIN DREAMS.—Everybody dreams, .. @#@m the little child to the aged man and woman. ‘This little book ~ gives the explanation to all kinds of dreams, together with lucky 4 Gnd unlueky days, and “‘Napoleon’s Oraculum;” the book of fate. P No. 28. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES.—Everyone is desirous of {umewing what his future life will bring forth, whether happiness or * jeans. wealth or poverty. You can tell by a glance at this little kk. Buy one and be convinced. ‘Tell your own fortune. Tell _ tiike.fortune of your friends. ‘ No. 76. HOW TO TELL FORTUNES BY THE HAND.— ‘®ontaining rules for telling fortunes ‘by the aid of the lines of the ftmund, or the secret of palmistry. Also the secret df telling future é mts by aid of moles, marks, scars, etc. Illustrated. By A. erson. ATHLETIC. No. 6. HOW TO BECOME AN ATHLETH.—Giving full ing ction for the use of dumb bells, Indian clubs, parallel bars, fans bars and various other methods of developing a good, ' ta § thy muscle; containing over sixty. illustrations. Every boy can ‘ome strong and healthy by following the instructions contained : ig little book. shia ene 10. HOW TO BOX,—The art of self-defense. made easy. ‘@omtaining over thirty illustrations of guards, blows, and the differ- mt positions of a good: boxer. livery boy should obtain one of ‘useful and instructive books, as it will teach you how to box eelith: instructor. Dh wine. 26. HOW LO BECOME A GYMNAST.—Containing full ructions for all kinds of gymnastic sports and athletic exercises. Busbracing thirty-five illustrations. By Professor W. Macdonald. & handy and useful 8 (ty i 3 “Ne. 34. HOW TO FENCE.—Containing full instruction for “Genel and the use of the broadsword ; also instruction in archery. = et with twenty-one practical illustrations, giving the best a A complete book. §hogitions in fencing. i Noe. 61. HOW TO BECOME A BOWLER.—A complete manual @f bowling. Containing full instructions for playing all the stand- and systems .* ord American and German games; together with rules syste United ee of aporting in use by the principal bowling clubs in the : tes. By Bartholomew Batterson. / TRICKS WITH CARDS. ; k Wo. 51. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH. CARDS.—Containing fwpianations of the general principles of sleight-of-hand applicable ey card tricks; of card tricks with ordinary cards, and not requiring t-of-hand;. of tricks involving sleight-of-hand, or the use of ially prepared cards. By Professor Haffner. With. illustra- 2. No. 72. HOW TO DO SIXTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Em- racing all of the latest and. most deceptive card tricks, with il- fumtrations. By A. Anderson. : . Ne. 77. HOW TO DO FORTY TRICKS WITH CARDS.— _ temtaining deceptive Card Tricks as performed by leading conjurers Qumd magicians, Arranged for home amusement. Fully illustrated. ie y hese Books Tell You Byerythin A COMPLETE SET IS A REGULAR ENCYCLOPEDIAI (Continued on page 3 of cover.) Address FRANK TOUSBY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, 8. Ze" MAGIC. No. 2. HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The area book of magic ané card tricks, containing full instruction of all the leading card tricks of the day, also the most popular magical illusions as performed by our leading magicians; every boy should obtain a copy of this book ‘as it will both amuse and instruct. No, 22. HOW TO DO SHCOND SIGHT.—Heller’s second sigh explained by his former assistant, Mred Hunt, Jr. Uxplaining how the secret dialogues were carried on between the magician and the boy on the stage; also giving all the codes and signals. The only authentic explanation of second sight. MAGIOIAN.—-Containing ths No. 48. HOW TO BHCOME A. grandest assartment of magica! illusions ever placed before ths public. Also’ tricks with cards, incantations, ete. : No. 68. HOW TO BO CHEMICAL TRICKS.—Containing over one hundred highly amusing’ and instructive tricks with chemicals By A. Anderson. Handsomely illustrated. No. 69. HOW TO DO SLEIGUT OF HAND.—Containing over fifty of the latest and best tricks used by magicians. Also contain ing the secret of second sight. Fully illustrated. By A. Anderson: No. 70. HOW TO MAKE MAGIC TOYS.—Containing ful! directions for making Magic Toys and devices of many kinds. Br A. Anderson. Fully illustrated. . No. 73. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH NUMBHRS.—Showing many curious tricks with figures and the magic of numbers.~ By A. Anderson. Fully illustrated. 4 No. 75. HOW TO BECOME A_ CONJURER.—Containing tricks with Dominoes, Dice, Cups and Balls, Hats, ete. HWmbracing thirty-six illustrations. By A. Anderson. No. 78. HOW TO DO THE BLACK ART.—Containing a com plete description of the re of Magie and Sleight of Hand, together With many wonderful experiments. By A. Anderson Illustrated. MECHANICAL. No. 29. HOW TO BECOME AN INVENTOR.—HByery boy should know how inventions originated. This book explains them all, giving examples in electricity, hydraulics, magnetism, optics, he ati mechanics, ete., etc. The most instructive book pub ished. ; ( : _ No. 56. HOW TO BECOME AN ENGINEBR.—Containing full instructions how to proceed in order to become a locomotive en gineer; also directions for building a model locomotive; together with a full description of everything an engineer should know. No. 57. HOW T@ MAKE MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.—Ful) directions how to m Banjo, Violin, Zither, Aeolian Harp, Xylo~ phone and other g uments; together with a brief de scription of neark ] instrument used in ancient ox modern times. st Mietfated. By Algernon S. Witzgerald for twenty_years Royal B ] Marines, No. 59. HOW TO"MAKE , q a description of the lanterm Also full directions for its use illustrated, by John Allen. No. 71. HOW TO DO MEC complete instructions for performing By A. Anderson. Fully illustrated, LETTER WRITING. No. 11. HOW TO WRITE LOVE-LETTHRS.—A most com- plete little book, containing full directions for writing love-letters, and when to use them; also giving specimen letters for both young and old. : No. 12. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO LADIES.—Giving complete instructions for writing letters to ladies on all subjects; also letters of introduction, notes and requests. No. 24. HOW TO WRITH LETTERS TO GENTLEMEN.—. Containing full directions for writing to gentlemen on all subjects ; also giving sample letters for instruction. : No, 58. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS.—A wonderful littie book, telling you how to write to your sweetheart. your father, mother, sister, brother, employer; and, in fact, everybody and any- body you wish to write to. Every young man and every youn# lady in the land should have this book. i > No. 74. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS CORRECTLY.—Con- taining full instructions for writing letters on almost any subject; on rules for punctuation and composition; together with specimen letters. :
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PLUCK AND LUCK. Complete Stories of Adventure. resued bible fd A iy sch $2.50 per year. November 898. Entered mag oa to 6% Ags = Congress, Washington, D. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York ingress, in the year 1902, in’ the office of the La Y Fea oe fiat Office, nk Tousey, 24 Union Square, New York. No. 204. CHAPTER I. THE WORK OF THE INCENDIARY. Olickety-click-click! In an instant Sam Weldon, the young foreman of Hook and Ladder Company No. 6, was wide awake. The unmistakable stroke of the telegraphic alarm had aroused him as by instinct from a deep sleep. Whizz! Whirr! Boom! ; That was the still alarm gong, and Sam was out of his bunk in a twinkling. The lantern hung against the alarm dial, and showed the number of the box where the fire was located. It was No. 60. “On the west side!” cried Sam, with a thrill. “I'll bet it’s the Sinclair Mills. All on deck, boys—lively, there!” He struck the big gong several hard raps, which made a noise Sufficient to arouse the dozen hard sleepers on the floor above. They instantly sprang up, with their clothes all on, and came sliding down the pole to the floor. “What is it?” ; “Where’s the fire, Sam?” ,_ What's the box?” | ® €XPhoese were the queries aimed at Sank and he shouted: J €V@Box No. 60. It's probably the Sinclair Mills. You can 44 ess the rest.” “Bud Ross, the incendiary!” was the unanimous cry. is the incendiary’s work beyond a doubt.” There was no time, however, for speculation or for sur- mises. Sam Weldon now proceeded to illustrate in a forcible and effective fmanner his abilities as a fire chief. In a twink- ling the long ropes were run out into the street, the twelve permanent men seized hold of them, and away went Hook and Ladder No. 6 for the scene of disaster. It was a still alarm, and there was no time to call in the “extra men or volunteers, who generally pisiekons when a general alarm was sounded. The little town of Norton boasted of one of the best fire departments in the whole country. The town ee reduced to ashes twice before the people awoke to the prime necessity Z sy rt pieadeauate department. is ‘rhen en ti ind Jadder trucks and engines were procured. Volunteers were plenty, and for a time the general alarm was _ deemed sufficient as a means of calling the fireman to their - Post of duty. But within a few months Norton had been cursed with an incendiary gang, and fires became so numerous and disastrous that Morton Sinclair had deemed it imperative to maintain for a time at least a permanent fire company, and accordingly twelve able men were placed in eonstant service upon Fire Company 6, consisting of a hook and ladder truck, and a hose wagon and engine of full power. } These permanent men were paid by private subseription, raised by the prominent business men of the town. So great was. eho era scare in Norton Lae the most thorodets “Tt . 4 F ne of telegraphic sienalé between the mills and the a ane pss had Deen, adopted by Mr. iSingiait a J 4 - . iy or Ma ‘These consti- NEW YORK, APRIL 30, 1902. J ne pre ch Peer oe Sher Stee IM RS FST s en IANS 7 Tet PSS EST OP SS ee ER Price 5 Cents. tuted the still alarm, which enabled the fire companies to make a quicker start for the scene of the fire, a general alarm being rung afterwards. The young chief of Hook and Ladder No. 6 would have been judged by a stranger as far too young for his position. But Sam Weldon, though a boy in years, was, nevertheless, a man in action and bravery, and had so signally distinguished himself in the perforniance of his duties that he had become famous and popular, and had won the sobriquet of Still Alarm Sam. At every fire Still Alarm Sam was identified by a frenzied crowd of admirers, for he was sure to achieve some marvelous deed of bravery. Sure to be on hand, first of all, no wonder that his efforts were recognized, and he became famous! Sam was of an athletic build, though light in weight, and possessed of a clear, handsome face, betokening in its every line character and resolution. Such was a fireman by nature,, having from early years frequented the engine houses, his father having once been famous as a fire chief in the great city of New York. But Sam had been left an orphan at a tender age, and since his mother’s death had been compelled to shift for himself. He made a living in turn as errand boy, newsboy, store clerk, and finally reached his favorite vocation by securing a berth as a fireman. He rapidly rose to the position of Chief of No. 6. Down the street like a meteor ran the crack fire company of Norton. Sam Weldon was in the van, with his trumpet in one hand and his other hand gripping the extreme end of the rope. There. was not a man in Norton who could keep pace with Still Alarm Sam in running to a fire. ” ; As they ran on, the western sky seemed all aglow with a powerful light. “T told you so, boys!” cried Sam wildly. Mills.” “We'll get there!” cried one of the fireboys. ‘A cheer went up, and on they dashed. The clatter of the : wheels over the stone pavings, the jangling of the bell at the forepeak aroused the people, and they came rushing to win-- dows and doors in wild excitement. The streets, deserted but a few moments previous, became alive with excited crowds. In the category of exciting events, there is nothing which can so quickly collect a crowd as a. fire. Already the mills were in sight. They were a noble line’ of brick buildings along the river bank. ins 9 and smoke were pouring from the upper stories. sy Sam Weldon and” his brave boys were, as usual, the very. first on the scene. In fact, a line of hose had been laid t the river, and an engine aes hofare the rabble reached the spot. tart Then came the other fire Pe Xi ‘aud the volunteers in’ , hot haste: Sam had ladders run up, anu lines of hose were carried. to the roof. ; Under ‘his able generalship, the battle with King Flame had begun. Several streams of water were now pouring upon { fire. As one gang of men fell back exhausted: from tie fo DUNS, another tpl its place. “It is the Sinclair
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-men above Sam clung to the edge of a window ledge. This one | STILL ALARM .SAM. ot SHS Once, having oceasion to descend to, the ground, his arm lthe leader of the notoriqus incendiary gang which had for so. was seized by a tall, elderly man.clad in the finest of broad- ‘ cloth, and whose pallid face was of a patrician cast. '*Sam Weldon, if you save my mills to-night I will forever be in your debt.” “Mr. Sinclair!” gasped Sam. “Can you do it, my, boy?” cried the millionaire, with fever- ish eagerness. “J think we can,” replied Sam steadily. “God bless you! One question?” “Well?” “Do you think it’s the work of that villainous incendiary, Ross?” “T am not prepared to say,;? replied Sam candidly. “It’is more than likely, however, that Bud Ross is the instrument. We can tell better after the excitement is over.” “True. Heaven bless you, my brave boy! I shall never forget you!” Sam went up the ladder once more like a monkey. But he never reached the edge of the roof. Two men were above him on the same ladder. They were carrying a line of hose through a window. Sam had reached | a point just beneath them when there came a sickening, com- prehensive crash. The ladder had crashed in against the wall. One of the The other, being higher up, had a grip on the eaves. drew himself up to the roof, and the other clambered safely into the window. 4 ' But Sam was thrown from the ladder with force. He felt himself falling, but was powerless to save himself. A fearful, wild, horrified cry went up from the crowd. It seemed as if their hero was going down to his death. Heavens! \.What an awful drop that was! Down, down Sam Weldon shot like a,stone out of a catapult. Down, and only oue thing saved his life. Had he struck the stone pavings he would surely have been frightfully mangled! But, as chance had it, just peneath him was a deep bulkhead, protected by light-glass sashes. At the bottom of this bulkhead were bales of’ cotton waiting to be lifted on an elevator into the outer ,air. fe Sam’s body struck the sash and crashed through it. He fell with some force upon tite cotton bales, and his body re- bounding crashed through a glass-door into the mill basement. In striking the yielding glass sash Sam’s fall was consider- ably broken, and the soft cotton bales were the easiest sort of a cushion he could have alighted upon. By what was certainly a9 “a marvelous Bie of good fortune, he had eed a frightful - death. ; For beyond a shaking up nad a momentary stunned Sensa- tion, with a few slight bruises, he was practically uninjured. | He was quickly upon his feet. ‘The basement in” which he now found himself was very ‘dark, and he could not see a gingle object about him. But there was a dull glare of light in the direction of the ¥ window by which he had entered the basement Sam_ ‘started for this, wheh suddenly he heard a smothered : ery at his right. Then the gloom was dispelled by a fierce bright stream of light right into his eyes, and which dazzled him for a moment. é Then a harsh voice exclaimed: “Who is hg, Bud?” ~ “Sh! you fool! Don’t call names here. - fiends! Tuck! ‘Don’t let him escape, pard.” "The light went out in an instant. , he cowie no further explanation for Sam to understand Ah! by the great: It’s that young fire fighter, Still Alarm Sam. Here’s. long terrorized the town. How many of the ruffians there were Sam had no means of knowing; but he instantly realized that his life was in deadly peril, _ That they would murder him in the place and let the flames conceal their crime he had no doubt. It was natural, then, that he should seek to beat a retreat. - “Stand aside!” he sig ps defiantly. upon me!” “Kill him!” hissed a savage voice. “Give it to him, pard!” Sam parried a deadly blow aimed at his head. He could not see his assailants so was not’ guided much in his defense. But he struck out at random, and felled one of the villains. The next moment he was seized in a powerful embrace. ~ A struggle, hardly with a parallel for desperation and fer- ocity then ensued, and around the basement Sam whirled in the deadly wrestle with his foe. ‘“Dare not lay hands Nee CHAPTER II. A TIMELY RESCUE. d x As Sam was now in the embrace of only one man, and no other seemed to come to his antagonist’s aid, he concluded that ihe incendiaries were but-two in number, and the one ie, had felled was yet unconscious. : The man with whom he was grappling was a \ oween fellow, : however, and considerably more than a match for Sam phat ee physical way. ; But, although slight of frame, Sam was a | wonderfully" agile and athletic youth. Z His quickness more than made up for the difference in physical strength, and he soon had his foe at a disadvantage. e He threw him heavily, and planting ‘a knee upon his chest held him firmly. es “Ha!” he cried, triumphantly. “I know you, Bud Ross,” You are my prisoner. Yield, or I will shut off your thineraiie 4 breath forever.” : eh Sam’s hand was at the villain’s throat, and Ross could not resist. He raved and spluttered in vain. . ; “Curse ye, pard, why don’t ye come to my help?” he yelled — to his companion. “I'll bet the cowardly dog has skipped. r : say, young feller, let up on my breathing gear.” _ oe “Pll shut it off entirely if you don’t surrendet peaceably,” me cried Sam resolutely. * “You will?” eee) “Vag. R; * ey. “What good will that do ye?” Ang pra i “It will do the world lots of good, fof it Siar be rid of a monster.” : Ross gave expression to a volley of curses; but his pantnen did not come to his help, though Sam fancied that he heard him recovering his senses. Realizing that action must be quickly made, ‘sien iittea ‘his voica and shouted lustily for help. All the incidents described had ‘transpired in a very briet Feat space of time. Sam’s fall had been seen by the whole crowd, and they were not slow in sending a searching party after him. These were now just entering the basement, and Ross, the sh are fs heard them coming. Br. He had no idea of yielding, for he knew that capture meant ¢ State’s prison for life. Sam’s grip tightened on the villat Y windpipe, for he: knew that he would make a fteahy and Nie
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STILL ALARM SAM. ee Se “Curse ye, let me up!” howled the ‘incendiary savagely. “Why don’t ye come and help me, partner?” ; “Coming,” growled the fallen villain, who had just regained his senses. “I'll be confounded if I don’t feel dizzy. That was a right sharp clip I got on the head. Where are you, Bud?” “Here—er—er—help!” spluttered the villain, as Sam’s grip tightened on his windpipe. The young fireman glanced anx- iously at the basement window. He heard his friends lowering a ladder. Would they never come? Certainly not in time. Sam realized this as he heard the other incendiary behind him. Knowing the danger of his position, he dared not risk it further, and was compelled to re- lax his hold upon Ross and spring up. He turned to grapple with the incendiary’s partner, when a _apiern’s light flashed into the cellar, and two of the fire boys sprang down. But before Sam could get a hold upon either one of the incendiaries, they had made a bolt into the gloom, and were lost to view. Sam, covered with blood, and bruised in a dozen spots, was revealed to the two red-shirted comrades who had descended to his réseue. “Sam Weldon!” gasped one of them. “Are you badly hurt?” “No,” replied Sam excitedly; “but come with me, quick. Don’t let them escape! ” “Escape?” exclaimed one of the firemen. “What do you mean?” “T mean that I’ve just had a tussle with a couple of the in- cendiaries, one of whom is Bud Ross.” The fire boys were electrified; but Sam’s explanation, though brief, was sufficient, and a search of the basement was instant- ly begun, : .; (By the light of ‘the lantern, every nook and corner was ie “explored. No signs of the villains could be discovered, how- “ever, and Sam was deeply disappointed, when the search sud- denly brought them to the foot of a flight of stairs. _These, Sam reasoned, must-lead into the upper mill, and up them they sprang. The young fireman’s hopes revived, for he felt sure that they would succeed in capturing the incendiaries yet. All this while, which, however, was but a brief time, the fire had been giving the fire boys a hard fight. It seemed for a time almost impossible to get it under control. Springing up the stair, Sam came to the first or ground floor of the mill. Here objects were visible, for the light from the street and the yard illumined the interior as bright as day. ; : : ‘Looms and machines of all sorts extended for a long distance on this floor. Sam would have made a thorough search, but |» this proved to be not necessary. ; ; For at that moment a shadowy form was seen to flit to the 1088 of ae ocond stairway, Sam and ‘his comrades instantly gave chase. : “Hurrah!” ered one of the fire boys. “We’re sure to catch “tem! We'll chase ’em to the top of the mill to do it, too!” “Tf they go much higher the fire will stop them.” Thrilled with prospects of catching the firebugs, Sam led the way to the stairs with intrepid manner. Before he reached the landing the crack of a rere mingled with the thunder of the flames. = Fortunately the bullet went wide. ‘The axe moment Sam reached the landing. peels _ But here he was again doomed to failure. Darkness was upon this floor, and the smoke was quite thick. The firebugs ‘yanished, and nothing more was seen or heard of them. The - most assiduous search failed in discovering the least trace of them, They had. mas ed Pinepron ten The search was vat an end. eee) t Still Alarm Sam was not satisfied. ‘He fancied that the: villains had fled to an upper story. His companions endeav- ored to dissuade him from going up there. * “Yt ain’t likely they’ re up there, Sam. They couldn’t live there a minute. if you go up you'll only throw away your | life.” Sam Weldon never was able to explain the strange motive Which impelled him to visit that upper floor. ‘He knew that the fgmes had driven the hosemen from’ there, ’ and that it would be risking his life to venture the feat. But his was a daring spirit, stalk tell you Iam going up there,” he declared. “I want to be satisfied whether Ross has gone up there to commit sui- cide or not.” — So the intrepid young fireman cane up the stairs leading to the upper story. He quickly vanished from view. Up through a vast cloud of stifling smoke Sam went. Reach- ing the landing, he felt firm floor under his feet. | é He rightly guessed that the fire was not in the immediate vicinity of the stairway, although the smoke might have led one to think so. It was easy to locate the direction in which the smoke was being carried, and he followed up the draught, in the meanwhile protecting his throat and lungs Lins his coat used as a muffler. ‘The smoke grew less dense as he advanced, and soon he was able fo see his way before him. He was in a part of the mill which was well illumined by the flames, though not in their immediate vicinity. i j Looms in a long line were before him, and Sam began to , look for some sign’ of his birds. it was while thus ‘employed that he made a fearful discovery. Suddenly a cloud of smoke before him was dispelled by a gust of air, and he saw a heavy loom just before him. Against — it was an object, the sight of which caused Sam’s blood to turn to icy coldness and his heart to leap into his mouth. There, with her back to the iron frame of the loom, stood a young girl’ She could not move, for her body. was bound with ropes to the loom. She could not speak, for a clumsy gag was in her mouth. Horror of horrors! What diabolical, fiendish deed was this? It was certainly murder intended. With a gasping ery of horror, Sam regarded the young girl. Her pallid face and wild, dilated pabels Betokened her awful. terror and suffering. Sam saw that she was young and very neauittal But vwilat did it mean? Why was she tied to the loom to as thus? Who had done this hellish deed? But it was of no use to ask her now. She could not reply. Sam advanced quickly, and removed the gag from her mouth. Then he exclaimed: j “My God! What is this? How came you here?” For a moment the young girl seemed too overcome with’ ° weakness to reply: but as Sam Supported her she pista to say: ae was tied to this loom by two men, whom I do not know.” “Two men unknown to you?” ; “Yes,” , Be “But how did you come here?! Did ate bring you here at this hour of the night?” asked Sam. fe : \ “I came here to see my father, who is the watchinan of the mill,” she replied. “His name is Hiram Bates. I am Agnes Bates, and I work in this mill.” : “Ah!” exclaimed Sam, with interest. 5 s “Usually my father is at the lower gate to meet me every night when I bring him his lunch, But to-night he was not — ‘there. Just as I stepped into the yard two men seized me and — brought me up here. They tied me to this loom, and ne doubt meant. ‘to leaye me. here to burn to death.” ea “Monstrous deed! @ exclaimed Sam, with horror. “Dia you know ‘the men?”
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STILL ALARM SAM. oie Ee “No.” “Did you see their faces?” “They were masked.” “And. your father-—” A wail of anguish escaped the girl’s lips. | work. It’s a good ways up there. Rig two of them together. Lively, or we won’t be able to save the boy chief. Lively all!” How the boys of No. 6 did hustle to get that ladder up. Peo- ple on the street in the meanwhile gazed agape at the thrill- ing position of peril held by,Sam and Agnes Bates. “Oh, I fear that he is dead! ”* she moaned. “I know they have | Flames were bursting through the roof and threatening killed him!” “Tt may not be so,” cried Sam cheeringly. my young woman. bt Weg “You are kind!” she cried gratefully. are you not?” : “Yes.” “You came just in time to’save me, ing thicker?” “You are right!” cried Still Alarm Sam. to lose, if we would get out of here alive! ” / Sam mentally accepted what he believed was a correct solu- tion of the mystery. The incendiaries had, no doubt, in some manner silenced the mill watchman, Hiram Bates. Then they had been surprised by the coming of Agnes. Fear- ful that she would suspect something, and give the alarm, they had entrapped her and left her in the upper room to perish. It was a frightful deed of inhumanity; but Sam Weldon had arrived just in time to prevent the consummation of what would certainly have been a fearful tragedy. Yet they were now threatened with what seemed an inevitable and not to be.ayerted fate. . The flames had reached ‘the stairway, and as Sam, with Agnes Bates by his side, attempted to descend, he was driven back by their furious volume. Is not the smoke grow- “There is no time CHAPTER III. A DASTARDLY SHOT. With this, the only seemingly possible means of egress from the upper story of the burning mill, thus cut off by the flames, the situation was a desperate one, indeed. Still Alarm Sam never more fully in his life realized how “near to death he was. Its very jaws were yawning over him. _. Ary of terror escaped the young girl’s lips, and she recoil- ed as the burst of flame came up the stairway. “Ig there no other way to descend?” cried Sam. familiar with the mill.” “No—oh, no!” wailed Agnes Bates, in despair. _ lost, Iam sure!” “Not yet,” muttered Sam, desperately, as he caught her light form up in his arms and bore her to a spot where there was - less danger of suffocation by smoke. His fireman’s instinct led him in the face of this sea pute to go higher up to the roof. But only a ladder led up through a battered skylight. _. However, Sam managed to crawl up through this and assist “Agnes up, too. They stood on the roof of the burning mill. Sam went to the edge and looked over. At this point the wind divided the smoke, and he was enabled to see the street _ below. Fortunately he yet had his trumpet.with him, and placing tt to his mouth, he shouted: “Dan Fuller! Hello!” _ Fuller was one of the veterans of No. 6. He heard the hail, and looking up cried: “Heavens! Look at the hoy chief, lads! “You are “We are He is in a bad “An hands at | eh MEW Kae ladder!” ip veried be Falter, excitedly, ‘ bakes pant E Wt | them on all sides, “Have courage, | No harm shall come to you if I can avert | = The walls trembled, and it became certain that that part of the mill would fall. The ladder was the only hope. Would it never be raised? People held their breath and waited anxiously the result. “You are a fireman, 'Qne man rushed out of the crowd and held up his arms, crying in a beseeching manner: “Oh, Agnes! God help you to come down to me safely! ' am your father! Oh, save my child! Save her!” A glad ery of joy escaped the mill girl’s lips as she saw that her father was safe. But Sam was puzzled. ~ How had the incendiaries outwitted the watchman and gain- ed sccess to the mill? It was a puzzle, indeed. But there was no way of solving the riddle other than to wait and consult Hiram Bates himself on this point. Meanwhile Dan Fuller had rigged the ladder all safely. It was quickly hoisted. It fell a little short of reaching the edge’ of the roof, but Sam managed to reach over, and clutching the eaves with one hand twined his legs around the upper- most round. It was a bold act, and the ee cheered as the athletic young fireman lowered the young girl] to ‘the arms of a brother fireman beneath who had come up the ladder. Tn this manner Agnes was carried to the phi safely, and was clasped in her father’s arms. As Sam came down, Hiram Bates clutched his arm, and — ‘eried fervently: “You have a grateful father’s blessing. you!” “Tt is nothing,” replied gallant Sam; after the fire.” “Very well.” “Where shall I see you?” . “My house is No. 12 Beacon Street,” Ble Hiram Bates. “You can call upon me there, or I shall probably be back here, on duty to-morrow night.” et “Tf you had been on duty to-night, how tould this fire have a occurred?” asked Sam sharply. P “I was on duty,” protested the night watehoan. explain to you-—” “That is just what I want. Just as soon as the fire is under control I will go te your house. I want you to tell me all. These incendiaries must be dealt with in a summery, manner. I will be on hand.” rs And with this Sam was off about his duties. It was not likely that there were other lives * pan re ope in the burning mill, so Sam did not attempt to enter it adel He directed the movements of his company, and so efficiently - isa) ithat before long the fire was deemed under control. The west: % wing of the mill was in a dismantled state, but the main struc- © ture was saved, and all through the wonderful work of the nh fire boys of Norton. x , : The last embers were succumbing before the steady play of a stream of water from Hose No. 6, when Sam, begrimed and. bedraggled, with trumpet in hand, stood at an angle of the ruins, contemplating the scene. He heard a footstep behind him, and bene daiek to be confronted by Mr. ‘Sinclair, ‘abe million: ‘ aire. j I I shall Sean forge: ~ “put I want to see you as can * man, and ie a voice which a netes with gratitude vend foe cried: te there to-night. ees }
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“Tf you thank me, you should doubly thank the others,” replied Sam simply. : “T do, but I feel particularly grateful to you.” “T have done no more than my comrades.” ‘ “Your example has inspired your comrades to a mighty ef- fort to conquer the fire fiend,” cried Mr. Sinclair forcibly. “T know how it is, Sam Weldon, and so does everybody else in this town: We all appreciate you and your brave work, you may rest assured.” | “Ah!” exclaimed Bates, a light breaking across his face “T believe Mr. Sinclair has a theory in regard to the matter. honest. The fellow was: sent to prison: Mr, Sinclair fancies that the incendiary is this-same fellow,’and that his motives are those of revenge.” “But why should the whole town be responsible?” asked Sam in surprise. “for the fact that Mr. Sinclair’s pe be Mae are wholly identi fied with this town. No doubt he fancies that in striking a blow at the town he also hits Mr. Sinclair.” ; “Ah! I see,” declared Sam, as he arose. “Well, it’s time that a stop was put to this business, and I will undertake to track down. the incendiaries myself, if it takes a lifetime to do yaar, Sam took a step toward the door to leave the. keine but a thrilling thing happened. Just as his hand touched the enh Agnes Bates, white-faced, stepped before him. . This was gratifying, indeed, to Sam Weldon. He modestly expressed his thanks, and protested against being - aren sO much honor. “T want to see you again, Sam,” said Mr. Sinclair warmly. ew HT you come to my house to-morrow. There is a matter upon my mind which I should like to discuss with you. These incendiaries, I feel sure, can be tracked down, and you are the one to do it.” “T have the purpose in mind now,” replied es, “However, I will endeavor to see you at the appointed time, Mr. Sinclair.” “T shall look for you. Mind, I shall offer a large reward for the capture of the gang.” “T desire no reward,” replied Sam stoutly. “The conviction of having done my duty is fully enough.” At this moment Sam was called away by one of his com- vades. 'The mill owner, Morton Sinclair, gazed after his hand- some young form, and murmured: “T like that boy. He is my ideal. Oh, if I only had a son like him!” ; i The crowd had long since begun to disperse. The fire com- panies were limbering up their hose, and a tired and jaded "set of men they were, too. ! Tt vari been a hard fight, but they had won victory. This - was Jce matter of congratulation. Daylight was appearing, and’slowly they wended their way homeward to seek much- needed sleep. ; But not so Sam Weldon. He took enough time to wash and clean himself up, then he started for the home of Hiram Bates, the watchman of the mill, He rapped on the door of the ‘modest little eckpaee! and was met by Agnes Bates herself. The young girl looked a trifle pale, but very neat and pretty, Sam thought, as she courtesied before him and bade him enter. Sam exchanged a few pleasant words with Agnes, the re- sult of which convinced him that she was the most charming young girl he had ever met. As a general thing, Sam was never susceptible to femfntne charms, but in this case he was prone to admit himself capti- -yated. However, Hiram ihe bi aaa the room now, eae _ Agnes withdrew. asin a few words Sam explained his mission. The watchman ‘Men gave a clear account of the whole affair. “Do you see that lump on my forehead?” he asked, lifting the hair. “Well, that was coused by the club carried by one of |! the villains. You see, they came to the gate, pretending to b.ing me a message from Mr. Sinclair. As I opened the gate one of them struck me on the head with a club. The next thing [ knew I was floundering in the river, and being carried over the rapids. I managed, however, to swim ashore half a mile . below the mill. When I was able to collect my senses fully, I saw the blaze of the fire, and knew then what the trick was. When I got back to the mill the crowd and the’ fire companies’ were there. Luckily this blow was not so serious as they _ thought, and ‘I did not drown in the river, as they intended.” “Did you gee the faces of the incendiaries?” Ras oe Sam. *No, I did not.” “Phen your daughter must have come along about that time, ir at least very shortly after you ‘were thrown into the river?” “Yes,” hy " agreed Bates. “She | probably alarmed the aaing € thought it the safest to et rid of per also. a 2 “There are two evil-looking men in the street, and one of them, I think, has a pistol, and I fear means you harm.” Still Alarm Sam was astounded. Yet so daring was his characteristic spirit of bravery that, instead of heeding Agnes’ warning, he cried: “Ts that so? Then let me face them, if they are foes!” With a quick move he flung open the door; but simultaneous with his appearance on the threshold thé crack of a revolver broke on the air, and he dropped in an inanimate heap. — CHAPTER IV. MR. SINCLATR’S STORY. nature, which was always bound. to court rather than to shun danger. He fell in a heap upon the threshold. A wild terrified eo burst from the white lips of Agnes Bates. The two men in the street; one of whom had fired the das-— tardly shot, vanished quickly enough. The shot and the wild ery of Agnes aroused the Astehbom hood. Not only did it bring Mr. Bates to ee scene, ‘but people — rushed from homes near by. Agnes had bent down over Sam, summoning all her ian sens and sat on the floor, with the young fireman’s head in wer lap, his white face uptur ned to her’s. “Oh, he is miccuetia sown she wailed. “They have killed him!” Meany: “Oh, it was those two wicked men who were watching the | house all the evening!” cried Agnes faintly. “Run for a doc- tor, somebody, quickly!” cal man, but before he arrived Sam regained constiousness. To the surprise of all, he instantly arose to a sitting posture, “Oh, thank heayen, he is alive!” cried Agnes joyfully, and then throwing her soft arms around his neck she ‘rejoined: 4“But you must not overdo commana Sam. You are bayer ori {ly wounded. i dazed ‘dling! ipon “hifi, “] only feel a little stinging pain oh of my en I shalt Be all nett soon.” STILL ALARM SAM hee “It is all clear -enough now, with the exception of one point,” said Sam, “and that is the motive of the incendiaries.” ~ Years ago he had a bookkeeper in his employ who proved dis- “Oh, sir, do not go out!” she cried, with much trepidation. It was really an indiscreet thing for Still Alarm Sam to do in the face of such an urgent warning; but his was an intrepid “My God!” gasped Mr. Bates. ‘Who has done this thing?” Half'a dozen excited messengers one dispatched Fis a ek ey A P i 2,2] 2 eet
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6 STILL —_—— oo rLSSSSSSSSE!S Water Was brought, and the blood washed from Sam’s face. “ALARM i From a ¢mall draver in this he took out a miniature, which Then the course of the bullet was traced, and it was found{hé brought forward and tendered to Sam, that he had experienced a narrow escape from death. The bullet had plowed a furrow along the top of the skull, cutting the scalp and producing a severe concussion. With the necessary measures to prevent fever, there was no reason why Sam should not easily and quickly recover, The physician dressed the wound, and, as it was not deemed expedient to move him, Sam was allowed to remain at the Bates’ residence. Here he was compelled to remain in bed, in a darkened room, for three days. In this time Agnes Bates was his kind and de- voted nurse, and those were hours which Sam never forgot. Her soft touch, her beautiful, sweet face over him was all like a dream of ‘great happiness. that the end of it had come, and after a week he was enabled ; to go forth as well as ever. Of course Sam thanked the Bates’ for their kind ministra- tions, but they disclaimed any obligations, for had not Sam saved Agnes from certain death? During his illness Sam had been the recipient of favors which easily proved his unbounded popularity in Norton. ' Beautiful flowers were sent him in profusion, and people were constantly calling to inquire after his condition. He “was welcomed upon the street with great joy by everybody. ' Of course everything possible had been doe to capture the miscreants who had attempted his life; -but, as usual, they out- witted the keenest detectives. “Mr. Sinclair himself was a daily visitor at fhe Bates’ house. As soon as Sam was able to go back to duty. the mill.owner gent a message to the engine house. Sam found it there one morning, and breaking the seal ‘Tead: '° “Dear Sam:—I wish you would come up to my house this ety ; afternoon at three. I would like’ to see you very much and . have a long talk with you. _ Yours truly, Morton Sinclair.” Of course Sam could not refuse to accept the invitation, and he answered it promptly in person at the time appointed. ( _ As he entered the library of the Sinclair'mansion, the mill owner arose from an easy-chair to greet him. There was a glad light in Mr. Sinclair’s eyes as he grasped | Sam’s hand... “T am delighted to see you, my boy,” he declared. “-$0- glad that you have so promptly answered my call.” “Tmdeed, sir, I am honored by such an invitation,” replied Sam politely. “T am at your service.” _ #2 want to talk with you, Sam,” said Mr. Sinclair, indicating a chair for Sam to take. “Do you know I have thought of Mai often since your brave work at the fire?” “You are very kind, ”* replied Sam. ~ “T want to first ask you some questions. ‘ understand, you are an orphan?” ; “I am, sir,” replied the young fireman. ’ “What do you know of your parents?” asked Mr. Sinclair. _ “Indeed, I was quite young when they died, ” replied Sam. _*Y ean dimly remember my father.” “Ah! What was his profession?” “He was a fireman, like myself. calling.” “Quite “aweiy rejoined Mr. Sinclair, musingly, as your home when ° ‘your father died, Sam?” “Tn New York City.” “Ah! What was your father’s ie name?” ig Hiram Weldon; ¥ : “T am As I am given to ‘ I presume I inherit my poe Indeed, it was with regret sharp cry of agony, and fell to the “ground. We trated her heart. \ “Look at that,” he said, in a strange voice, “and tell me if it looks anything like your own father.” ‘With a queer thrill, Sam gazed at the miniature. Instantly he sprang to his feet, with the greatest excitement. i “Phat is my father’s picture!” he cried. “T thought so.” “Where did you get it?” Mr. Sinclair sank into a chair. “T will tell you,” he said succinctly. father, Hiram Weldon, and I were schoolboys together. were the warmest of friends. Chums, 4s it were.” “Indeed! .I am glad to know that,” said Sam. ( “He gave me the miniature a few years after we left ‘school. H We. parted company, and from that day to this I have never heard of or seen Hiram Weldon. “Bht before we parted company, as it has proven, forever,” resumed Mr. Sinclair, “we figured in an affair which for thrill- ing phases is almost without a parallel. S “You will notice that Iam quite alone in the world—a man without a family. The reasons for that I will soon give’ you. “T once loyed, and with all ‘the affection of a true heart. — The objeet of my passion was a very beautiful girl in’ ot York society. ° . “We were to have been married, Mabel Glenn and I, im short three months. But among Mabel’s admirers rae hepa young Corsican, Paoli Rossi. She had rejected his advances, oy and, with the hot “passion of the natiye Italian, Rossi. f turned his hatred upon me as the sole cause of his defeat, “He made a yow that he would cheat me out of my: lo oe and he succeeded, as I shall tell you. pone ming “It was at a small card party at the cl on ‘night. i In ; some way Rossi contrived to get into our it We playe | with varying fortune, Rossi being | loser; a i auddeniy" t pots Corsican sprang up and threw dow 1 the cards upon the table, and in a tempest of rage accused me of having cheated. r i ‘Y pe “Tn an instant the whole room was in an uproar. Of course vf It was the point desired e: f i “Years ago your We ue I indignantly refuted the charge. ‘by the hot-headed Italian, and he threw down his eard.. “There wag no way but to accept it. Hiram Weldon, you ¥ i father, at that time a young man of wealth and fashion, was _ my second. The meeting was all arranged, and, I was in for. be the first duel in my life. : “The weapons were to be pistols, the cimtangs fifty paces. Our seconds met and arranged the affair. Fd “Tt was a bit of business I did not like. any sense an American institution. i “However, the day came, and me met, It am inva: ce e dell near a rural village, . Peer “We supposed that the affair had been kept secret, but it seemed that at the last moment somebody played false. ps Hy : “We had taken our positions, and the seconds were ready to give the word to fire, when a carriage dashed up to the spot. A young girl, pale and distraught, fered out, and bcs a ie between ‘us, SR “It was Mabel Glenn, She had learied of the affair in $0 way or other, and, fearful that I would be. killed, ee stay the oh gales care : the word “fire!” “At any rate, his. shot axpibaed Mabel‘ Glenn gave reached her side, and the physician and : rgeon in gave her his instant care. I “She was dead instantl ia
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f = yl STILE ALARM SAM. “TJ was like a madman. It required the efforts ofall the | feta Ur ust as ie reached the atiéet he heard the cry from the depths’ others to hold me and keep me from doing fearful harm to!of the city below: © the wretched author of my misery. “In one fell moment my life’s happiness was destroyed, my hopes were dashed forever. “Rossi escaped the clutches of the law, and it was rumored that he went to’ Corsica. I have never seen him since, but I received a warning letter; apprising me that the vendetta be-| _ tween us was not yet settled, and that, even if years were to elapse, his revenge would yet be completed. “TI did not know then, as I have since learned, that the vendetta is.a family affair, and affects the honor of a man’s descendants, who are in honor bound to take up the vendetta jyhen the relative dies. “So it happened that one day a dark-featured young man came into my employ. He gave the name of Ross. Being an expert accountant, I gladly gave him employment until I became assured of his dishonesty and dangerous character. “Dangerous, for I shortly learned that Ross was simply a modification of Rossi, and that he was the son of my old Corsican foe, and had given his dying father an oath to ac- complish the vendetta. “Of course I discharged him. Since then he has held the whole town in a state of terrorism by his acts of incendiarism. He aims his blows at the townspeople as well as me, for he knows that their interests are mine, for I am the founder of Norton, which did not exist before my mills were built. “You know now, Sam, the whole story. Bud Ross, the in- cendiary, is really the son of my old foe, Paoli Rossi. He seeks _my life, as well as to destroy the town. This is my story, Sam, and you understand now why I am so particularly inter- pbedin You, and also in what manner your father and I were fae i AG ; Mr. Sinclair ceased speaking, and Sam was so overwhelmed with the force of this narrative that he could not speak for a 7 cre » “My father never told me of all this,” \ while. he finally declared. “If is a most interesting story. Now I understand the motive of the incendiary, Bud Ross. Iam ‘more than pleased to know that you were a former friend of my, father.” “Hiram Weldon was one of the noblest of men,” declared Mr. Sinclair. “T thank you for that,” replied Sam warmly. “I love to re-: gard my father in that light; but I shudder when I think of ‘the awful danger which threatens you. Something must be done, This murderous villain must be captured before-he can do further harm.” “You are right, Sam,” declared Mr. Sinclair. _waeyerard, but I feel that I am in great danger, oe you can help me.” } y .. “Rest assured that T will,” cried Sam resolutely. “How can we disarm the foe?” Sam arose from his. chair, and a pallor. overspread his face. At that moment he had heard a sudden andsdistant sound—a sound which brought the hot blood in surges to his brain. Glang! Clang! Clang! It was the distant strokes of a pell. They exchanged glances. hensive. It caused a cliill to settle over. one’s heart. . “Bire!” exclaimed Sam, in a metallic voice. Another plow | ois. struck by the foe, Mr. Sinclair.” “T am no I have faith Bes “You are right,” gasped the mill owner, sibneia half faint- : Jing into a chair. ; “Whatever, or wherever’ it is,” cried Sam, starting for the} “God grant it may not be the mills!” door, “it is my call for duty. Pardon my sudden’ leave-taking, Mr. Sinclair, but I am called, and must go. Don't lose heart! ” | _ With this ringing cry, ‘Still ‘Alarm Sam ran from the, house. 5 To both the stroke was compre- room in the top story, asleep! ‘Oh, save my baby!” ri A tremendous sensation was instdntly created, The Ienow F “Fire! Fire! Fire!” _ CHAPTER V. AT THE FIRE, Down the street Sam ran at a wild rate of speed. He did not go to the engine house, for he knew that the truck would be out before he could get there. Instead he ran for the scene of the fire. \ A dull glow against the sky showed him the location. . Al- most as if by instinct he found his way to the’ scene of action. The bells were clanging, and a vast crowd was surging through the streets as he ran on. : Suddenly he came into the street where the fire was. He saw flames pouring from the lower windows of a tenement: - block. This tenement was owned by Mr, Sinclair, and was the lode- ing house of some of the mill operators. At once Sam con- cluded that the fire was incendiary, In spite of the fact that he was at a great distance when the fire alarm rang, he was on the scene almost as quickly as any of the others. At once he took command of his own fire conipany, and | swiftly and skillfully directed operations. The fire had originated in the lower stories of the house. ; The flames were making swift gaadiles £1 and gave evidence of being hard to check. It was evening, the shadows of night thickening fast. hour of Sam’s call at Mr. Sinclair’s had been three o’clock, but he had stayed there longer than he thought for. ; At this hour, however, a great many people were abroad, and the street was instantly filled with a vast throng. All was confusion and excitement. Policemen roped off the street to give the fire companies plenty of room to work. Unfortunately it was some distance to a good supply of water, and by the time the pipes had been laid and the DUAD ee ing began the fire had gained tremendous headway. There was no use.in trying to unearth the origin of the fire — now. The one impulse was to conquer the flames, would be time enough for investigation afterwards. There Still Alarm Sam was here, there, and everywhere, directing =e the work of his men, and taking an active hand ‘himself. he: ses Several streams of water were gotten upon the flames, and the fire was speedily fairly under control, Not until this juncture, in the face of the great excitement, had there been a thought of the possibility of there sete any-_ body in the house. . But Still Alarm Sam had not been oblivious of this fearfu possibility. He had made inquiry, but without any result. It was known that a large number of people lived in the house. was not easy to say. ‘ In view of this doubt, Sam determined to place a Inder. at enter the upper stories. No sooner had this resolution seized ian’ than the ero j parted, and a white ‘faced, abe ar ie woman ran through the ‘throng. aay igave him! I left sich: iain I had to go out ta the market “Oh, my baby!” she. seetatieide edge that a sleeping infant, a mother’s treasure, w: Ww ae beatings and almost certain to be But whether all had been ‘warned of oat fire or not
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g SAT AT ARM ORAS 2 ct a a Even the brave firemen: paused in their work, and gazed | Though a slender cord, it was capable of supporting the with a shudder up to the upper story of the doomed structure. | heaviest man. It did not seem as if any human power could rescue the This he was now seen to tie about the body of the infant. child. Even the stoutest-hearted of the brave fire fighters In the meanwhile one of the fire boys had run up the lad- shrank from that fearful risk. der to meet the precious bundle which was being lowered on But Still Alarm Sam, cool and calm, approached the agon-|the rope. ‘ized mother. The crowd held its breath in deep suspense. Would the “Have courage, my good woman,” he said quietly, “I will | rescuers succeed? gave your baby, if such a thing is possible!” Down went the precious burden. Now it was in the hands “God bless you, sir!” cried the distraught woman. “You |°! the waiting fireman. will earn my gratitude for life!” A quick untying of the cord, and the babe was safe in strong “But tell me, which is ‘the room?” asked Sam. arms. The rope was left dangling in the air, and a moment “That one in the corner. Oh, see! My God! The flames | later the sleeping babe was in its overjoyed mother’s arms. have already reached it, atid my darling sleeps there!” How the excited crowd did shout and cheer. It was an in- ~ Still Alarm Sam hesitated no longer. With quick orders he |cident which brought tears to every eye, and fora time the * caused the long iadder to be hoisted. greatest of excitement reigned. * Then a deep and mighty hush fell upon all, The brave rescuer, the hero of the hour, was facing death in its most awful form. Had he saved the life of the innocent babe but to sacrifice his own? Would Heaven not aid him to escape? He was seen upon the trembling roof of the blazing build- ing. .He crawled to the edge of the roof and essayed to swing over and reach the upper rounds of the ladder. But the distance was too great. His reach was far too short. One moment he wavered there. Then he was seen to arise and craw] up the steep side of the _It-was found necessary to splice it to reach the window ledge, and this took time. Time was valuable just now, for the smoke was pouring out of that window in a torrent. _ But the ladder was finally rigged, and, amid the cheers of the crowd, Sam ascended it. : Up he went, higher and higher, and now he was seen to reach the window ledge. One moment he paused, and was seen to wrap.his jacket about his neck and nostrils, and then he plunged into the chamber. He was lost to view for the time being in the smoke. Some aay medina au ied peg tae Repeal bally aha roof. While he was doing this the whole structure trembled, hope of seeing him return to the ladder. : ; E F eem ly to fall at amy moment. . , But he did not reappear. Moreover, a thrill of horror ran (ager ee, o ; e ' through the crowd at a sight which now was presented. The flames, bursting from a lower story, wreathed about “ ladder, and bid fair to Speedily consume it. It was necessary to remove it or it would be quickly de- CHAPTER VI. ow citi _-gtroyed. But still the fire boys hesitated, hoping all the while ' j eS that Sam would reappear. A DEATH TRAP. ; ‘ For some unaccountable reason he did not. Time elapsed, & ‘ ; Wei hare and somebody in the crowd with a groan exclaimed: Words cannot depict the situation truthfully, nor the sen- — “He has made his last rescue. This time he has met his |Sations of the witnesses of the fearful scene. aS. / death.” Sam ‘Weldon, the young hero of the hour, seemed. doomed to. 4 perish. There were scores of brave men in the erowd who 2 wwould have gone to his rescue had such a thing been possible. ik ‘But it was not, and they were powerless to help him. i _ With a sickening sense of horror the crowd watched hin and looked with a deadly fascination: for the moment whe the building ie rae collapse and he would go down to his, death. iba But this moment dia not come. ‘Fate had ae ordained that .* brave Sam Weldon should thus so ignobly perish. | ; He was seen to clamber up the roof, and his objectiv point was a chimney. He reached this and clung to it. east ith One end of the fireproof rope he passed about the im and knotted it tightly. He allowed the other end to fall over © the edge, and now ‘seizing a firm hold he began: to slide. down, the rope. ; Down the roof he went, and the en moment was over. thet, iby edge and suspended - in midair between heaven and earth. f Had the rope parted it would have been a ‘frightful fall; pe hy it was of too stanch material. Down, down he slid. Mighty volumes of flamias ana smoke poured out of the windows and enveloped him. Sarah Had ‘he been unaccustomed to fire, and less able to ies ae himself against the blasting, withering effect; Of the ba oh ho would have been badly burned. ] - But through the burst of flame he dropped— -auiekly y winding ian the rope about his snnshs sailor fashion. So, in fact, it webride “Yet there were those who clung to hope. “At last the ladder was’ lowered. Still Sam did not make _ his appearance. Hverybody had ‘ein him ‘up for lost, when suddenly a mighty shout- went up from the multitude. There, upon the blazing roof, suddenly became visible . in the firelight the helmet and red shirt of Still Alarm Sam! | In his arms he carried a bundle. It was the babe, without doubt. _ Now he stood in bold relief upon the roof, and made signals - to those below. Instantly ready hands seized the ladder, and i up it went. _ It failed to reach the gutter, however. Ten feet short it was, and Sam was unable to drop with safety this distance. ; ‘Hére was a fearful predicament. What was to be done? In the excitement of the moment the coolest and bravest were ‘flustered. The fire was raging in the old shell like a seething sroloae, Every moment the walls trembled and seemed likely to fall Pe ie thee It seemed at the moment as if no earthly power could save | fi the young hero who had ventured his own life to save another. But now a great shudder ran through the crowd. ¥ Stil Alarm Sam was seen to motion to his comrades below. ‘Then a ery went up: . “He has a rope! See! | He will make use of it!” This was true.’ Sam always carried at his belt a small, strong rope, made of a material baka and sie one hun- PVi6, ed feet in Bact ¥ touched the ground. were anne him.
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y ‘ ¥ ag completely overwhelmed with the demonstrations DA and gratitude showered upon him. For a moment Sam was weak and faint from the severe strain of the ordeal. His skin was scorched and blistered and his face begrimed with smoke. : But he thought not of his personal injuries. He was instant- ly on duty again and directing the fight of the flames. Tt was wonderful with what tenacity the structure held out against the devouring element. No amount of water could do aught save to keep the fire from spreading. Yet is build- ing stood. And now, as if to cap a mighty climax, the event most thrill- ing of the day occurred. ‘Studdenly an awful cry went up from the crowd, “hai was again centered upon the roof. Merciful heavens! There, crouching upon the roof, was a human being. It was the form of a young girl scantily clad. Now, several of those who resided in the tenement remem- bered her as a little cripple who had lived with an aged mother in the upper story. | “Ah, well,” some one said, be a mercy to let her go,” Sam Weldon heard this remark. His cheeks burned as he shouted: ; Every “she is only a cripple. It would “Never! It is a human life, and shall bé saved. Up with a longer ladder. I will save her or die!” “Don’t be foolhardy, Sam,” cried Dan Fuller, in remon- strance. “You just came down from there, and the roof was going then.” “Put up the ladder!” cried Sam. “You'll never come down alive!” Remonstrance was of no avail, Sam was determined to res- cue the little cripple. By : Accordingly the ladder was once again hoisted, The fireproof rope yet remained fastened to the chimney. Sam went up the ladder like a monkey. When he reached the topmost round he began to go hand over hand up the rope. He was an expert climber, and gained the roof easily enough. | He crept up to where the little cripple was. Her face was ashen pale, and her teeth chattered. Sam’s smile reassured her, as he said: “Cling right to me, little one. No harm shall come to you.” The cripple placed her arms about his neck and did as she was bid. Sam made his way cautiously to the edge of the roof. ' . He hastily drew up the rope and fastened its end about the child’s body under her arms. Then bracing his feet against _ the gutter, he proceeded to lower her rapidly to the ground. . Willing hands received her below, and Sam quickly slid Gare the rone to the ladder, and thence to the ground, having xia uceomplis.ied his second brave rescue of the. day. : He was norie too soon, for it chanced that the fire had reach- ed a culminating point, and just as Sam reached a ede of ‘safety the building collapsed. _ The fire was now quickly gotten under control,’ and kept ‘fr ‘om ‘spreading. | It was a late hour that night, however, when the last heap of ruins was deemed safe to leave, and the Aire boys wended their way homeward. The crowd had dispersed some time since. Sam was autiout the last to leave the scene. He left the spot alone, intending to ‘make his way back to} - the engine housé and retire for the night. j But some thrilling incidents were destined ta suitertete seri ously with his plans. As he was making a short cut across several vacant lots of } © land he passed quite near to a boards fence, erected by some et advertising firm for the aadgten of ee Se STILL ALARM SAM. walked. ae the gota ae went in a twinkling, and was i oe Ordinarily, Sam would have passed by without any thrill of interest whatever. But a singular conviction seized him. “Rather an out of the way ‘place for people to meet at this hour,” he reflected. “I wonder Lee He paused. One of the voices was now fated’ in a higher key. He recognized it as that of the man with whom he had scuffed that night in the cellar. At once Sam was interested. fence and listened. f The two men, for they were two in number, were talking | on the other side of the fence. Sam knew that one of them was*Bud Ross, the incendiary. tivery word they uttered came plainly to his hearing. “Ah, partner, we haye made one more good stroke for pe- venge to-night,” Ross’said, in a vengeful tone. “If my father can look down from Paradise, he will strongly. approve of this night’s work.” “You are right, Bud.” “That old tenement went up like tinder, didn’t it?” “You bet.” “But what a dare-devil of a young fiend that Sam Weldon is. Curse him! He is a bad stumbling block in our path, my boy.” ; “J believe you; but what can we do with him?” “Shuffle him off this mortal coil if he gives us any Staal trouble.” “I think it would be safer.”: “Well, we have had a good night’s experience. Let ps go - home and sleep. » “T am with you.” The two villains began to walk away, Sam iced about him in a quandary. 3 Oh, for a policeman! He almost ventured to attack them alone. These were the incendiaries who terrorized Norton, and they should be captured; but Sam yielded to prudence. However, he followed them. It was possible before he had gone far he would be able to obtain assistance. - Just across one street was the high falls of the river which Norton was situated upon. A long dam extended across the river here, over which the water ponent in a tremendous tor- ent. There was a walk built upon the top of the dam. By many — it was used as a bridge to cross the river. The incendiaries walked out onto this dam. They vanlahed in the deep gloom. Fearful of° losing track of them, Sam eagerly pushed forward. rhs He walked unsuspectingly out on the dam. He could see nothing of his birds. He erect up to the board tel kee Convinced of this, Sam ran Basie upon the dam. Halt way across, where the water was highest, was a small house, built for the protection of a barometer stetion. Sam did not suspect the awful peril, so close upon iy, iH He did not dream that his foes were aware of the fact: that wae he was following them. : Not until he reached the small barometer station. Then, 3 as a: he was hastily passing, two forms leaped out upon him like 4 wolves. He was like a child in their grasp, and in a twinkling | was hurled over the edge of the dam, ‘and went over the high — ie falls to a seeming awful death! A ae ee CHAPTER Vit. Ree A BIT or DETECTIVE Work. i It was a fearful death trap into which Still Alarm ein They must Par crossed the river by — this time, if
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far from the door. ee 10 , Pet paeegth” | ALARM SAM. He was caught and tossed high im the air by the torrent, then rapidly whirled over the rapids, now shooting under ‘the water and now to the surface. The blow he had received was a stunning one, but the chill waters revived him. As soon as he could collect himself he managed to keep his head above the torrent. The mere fact that he had been hurled into the cataract was the saving of his life. The swirling waters did not allow him to sink. Had the water been a deep, quiet Bool he would probably have sunk te rise no more. Down over the rapids he shot like a bolt. He was whirled and hurled right’ and left; and received many bruises from contact with the rocks in the river bed. - But at length he came out into clear water. He had safely passed the rapids. It was a miraculous salvation. _ With all his strength Sam set out for the shore. He swam with great difficulty, for his clothes feces weighted him, but by dint of great effort he managed to finally - reach the shore and crawl out. - He sank down, panting and overcome, upon the sands. For some time he was in a fainting condition. He had been very near death, and this reaction was not strange. He lay for some time upon the shore. The cool night wind, however, fanned his brow, and he gradually revived. After a time he was able to get again upon his feet. He . collected his scattered senses, and decided upon a pee of action. He mentally berated his stupidity in falling HES et trap which had nigh proved his death. That he should have been so blind as to allow his foes to play sich a simple trick upon him was strange. They cer- tainly had the best of the situation. But what was to be done now? _ Should he return to the dam? It was hardly likely that he : - would find his foes there at this time. ; Yet he resolved to do this. So he made his way back along ' the river bank. Very soon he came to the dam again. This time he was cautious enough to advance with care. ‘It was easy to see where the would-be assassins had secreted themselves behind the small structure in the middle of the dam. ; But they were not iene now. Sam, however, crossed the dam, and went on blindly in the search, It chanced that a small public house stood near the river’s '. edge. Sam ‘saw a light in the window, and approached it. _ The sound of voices and the fabs of = isa came from the : interior of this place. ‘ Sam crept up to a window, and gazed upon a peculiar scene. , The interior of the room into which he looked was fitted up with a. bar. and tables. At both men were engaged in , drinking. i : ; Sam gazed from one group of the drinkers to another, until suddenly his gaze became fixed upon two men at a Table not It wus a retired spot, and the appearance and actions of the mien at once satisfied Sam that they were the two incendiaries. _ He experienced a great thrill. “They evidently fancy that I went to my death over the, cataract,” he muttered. I am in luck.” ‘ ; ‘He tried in vain to get a good look at the men’s faces. . Their slouch hats, however, concealed their features, and he was baffled. , jee were: engaged in discussing over a bottle of whisky, rae “And they feel safe from. pursuit. “Perhaps I he muttered. sini near them, and Det “Supposing I enter the place,” could.do it unpereeived, and gain a haps play eavesdropper.” Then he looked at his clothes. and would betray him. This plan he felt bound to abandon. ‘ “I’m not much of a detective,” he muttered, “or I should be able to work my points here in some manner. ' I presume the safest and proper mpi is to cali an officer and have them arrested on suspicion.’ This looked like the most sensible idea; but when Sam considered its feasibility he was again stuck. There was no officer in sight. If he should leave the spot to call one, he was by no means assured the, his birds wee be. ; there on his return. ee “ So he was obliged to abandon this idea; but another qutick- ly suggested itself. aa On the opposite corner of the building was a window Hee was partly open. Sam would not be quite so near to the incendiaries there as where he was, but possibly he would ‘be able to hear better. To think with him was to act. He at once sipped around the corner of the building quickly and silently. ae He approached the open window and glanced through it. Instantly he experienced a chill. The table where the two incendiaries ‘Baa sat was empty. ; They were not in sight in the room, Sam could draw no- other conclusion but that they had left the public house. Instantly he glided around to the door. He could not have been out of hearing in that limited time. ‘Yet no sign of eh was to be seen or heard. For a moment the young fireman was completely panied” ) He was dead sure that they had left the public house. tet pily, Sam was a youth of quick wit and ready y nerespHiony an) a swift idea struck him. 1 Around the house he, ran to the rear. Here was angeactes means of exit, and he arrived just in time to hear retreatin footsteps and voices in the dense gloom. Instantly he dashed in pursuit, eaten et The men had gone in the direction of the river, and ‘gare now heard the grating of a boat's ‘keel on ne sand, and ‘then the chuck of oars. : The next moment, he reached the river bank. “He could just see the dim outlines of a boat sea: in the asians - He. was again outwitted. i een eos They. were dripping wet, At first, the. resolute octane ‘fireman considered the fea bility ef pursuit; but there was no,other k boat on the shore, he was obliged to abandon the idea. MAP (ae y Disappointed beyond expression, Sam slowly recrossed. f dam, and made his way back to the engine house. | ge He retired to his room just as dat was breaking, slept soundly for a few hours. Then he was again agtir, and descended to find Mr. ‘Sinclair ; awaiting him. Sam told of his experiences of ‘the night, nd Mr, Sinclair listened with. deep interest. ph oe With a shiver, he said: ; f 3 “I don’t know why, Sam, but I feel a dread presentiment th my fate is at hand. I certainly shall not rest ba oh until Bud Ross is behind bars.” “And that is where he shall be lane before many cried Sam determinedly. “The residents ot Norton make common cause against him.” } - Several days passed. _ Nothing aves said a Sam to a cag
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One day Sam descended into the engine house to find: pinned | with a sneering, jealous smile. to the wall a folded note, which was superscribed to himself. STILL ALARM SAM. ated with Agnes’ beauty, followed them about with malicious What was more thrilling, was the fact that this note was| thoughts uppermost in his mind. written in characters of blood. CHAPTER VIII. AT THE DANCE. Sam unfolded the note with a peculiar sensation. In clear, legible chirography there was traced in blood nner. the white paper the following: “For Sam Weldon:—You may Have the nine lives of a eat, Sut you cannot hope to escape ultimate death. It is near at hand. Beware! One of the Incendiaries.” Sam was not one to be frightened by such an empty threat as this. small fragments. “Nobody but a coward would send such a message as that,” me muttered. “I have no fear of such a threat.” It happened at this.time that the town was astir with the near approach of an annual event of importance. This was the yearly field day and meet of the fire companies. It was an event of great interest, and! was generally held upon the common, a vast expanse of green in the heart of the city. Here the various fire companies met and participated in competitive trials of skill. It was.a general gala day; with the general list of amusements, and always winding up with a dance in the evening. Sam was appointed floor manager of the dance, and he al- _ Wayseised the. position gracefully. Everybody looked for- “ward with great anticipations to the day,of the firemen’s meet. _. Upon the morning of the gala day a vast crowd thronged the streets to witness the first parade of the fire companies. " Hook and Ladder. No. 6 made a fine appearance. At their head walked Still Alarm Sam, and their appearance drew wild cheers from the crowd. What gave Sam a special thrill of happiness was site fact that just as he was passing a certain house he saw a sweet girl face with sparkling eyes bent full upon him. His face crimsoned, and his heart beat like a trip-hammer as he lifted his hat gracefully to the sweet smile and salutation of fair Agnes Bates. After the parade all went to the common to witness the sports. 2 3 : First on the list were trials of she between the different fire companies. The distance was two hundred verde and from start ‘to oe ‘ecNon$, with Still Alarm Sam in the lead, led the way. Se Next followed ladder, climbing, and in this Sam won the prize. After this other competitive tests followed, An which, however, Sam took no part: While participating in the trials he had caught a Pest ad of abenes and her father in a carriage near. » As soon as possible he made his way to her ner ; Sie young Gar accepted bhusngy while Mr. Bates ol _ jocularly: ; bat hope you will take good care of her, Sam. t her with every young man.” T will ‘try to,” replied the-young fireman modestly. I would not He laughed contemptuously, and tore the message into A pleas- |» f apology! “I thought, so,” he muttered bitterly. is the stumbling block in my path. He has won her heart, as | one can plainly see. She would scorn me to take up with him. T will spoil that little game.” A deep curse crushed its way through his set teeth, andya lurid glare shone in his’ eyes, steps of the two young people. After partaking of the supper, Sam was obliged: to repair at once to the dance hall, as he was floor manager; but he found a good, a for Agee, where she was to await his re- turn. ‘ In a few moments the floor was covered with daricenss Sam was busy arranging the sets. -Royal Bent’s evil glance was fixed upon Agnes,” Thie to the villain seemed his chance, He advanced, and bowing with a sycophant smile} aaa “Ah, Miss Bates, may I have the honor of the first dance?” Tnstinctively Agnes shrank away from him, and replied coldly: Be Royal Bent, who was infatu- © He continued to dog the foot- “That young fireman “T am engaged to Mr. Weldon for that dance. Pray, excuse se me.” “Ah, very sorry,” continued the villain, with an assumption. of regret. “I may ask for the next, then?” “Pardon me, but my dances are all promised,” replied Ag- nes coldly. The villain’s face darkened like a thunder cloud: His exes held a light which terrified Agnes. “What!” he exclaimed ironically. “Not a dance to spare? Come, now, that is hardly fair. I cannot recognize the right of that young fireman to monopolize all ‘your time. It is un- fair, not to say. hoggish.” 4 The villain’s last words were Hany: even cutie: Agnes felt sick and faint. the most intense description. j F “T have the right unquestionably to bestow my dances where I please,” replied Agnes, with dignity. This capped the climax. made an attempt to curb his vicious temper. “So you do not care to bestow a dance upon me?” he gritted angrily. finely, Miss Bates: to say the least, refreshing.” This was an insult, and, with all her soul on fire, Agnes arose, With the air of a queen she exclaimed: Str t beg to inform you that even a mill girl has rights. which gentlemen are bound to respect! I ask you to relieve ‘mne\of your presence.” : “Not yet!” gritted the villain. get a living, is my own uncle. have you discharged to- -morrow. Her loathing for the man before her was of “I don’t know that. you can afford to discriminate. so — For a simple mill girl your assurance ds, “T want to tell you where you stand. The owner of the mills, where you and your father — I could wield my influence to — Is it, then, policy for you to © Ben was simply infuriated. He -s j fling contumely into amy face for the sake ofa smiincab an little pauper of a fireman, i areca : “ Sir! ” is . : a My Ben wheeled as if upon a pines vituperative remark stood before him. Sam’s eyes blazed. Bent winced, but assumed an air of bravado. ' / “TI have been grossly insulted,” he said sharply. “T will. not stand it! I demand an apology from you, Miss Bates!" “Scoundrel!” cried Sam heatediy. “It is you who shalt make I have heard your remarks to this young lady, who With Agnes upon his arm, Sam made his way to the supper ; ; is under my protection. I have charge of this dance to-night, hall. The young couple were very happy in their companion- | and you shall apologize cs inde or Sj _ have you ay out of tp, and their recast ile together in ai happy moment. | the hall! * } eaten ae The object of his last —
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Rk ‘STILL ALARM SAM. ha you young whippersnapper, it would be as much ag your life is worth.” “Will you apologize?” Sam advanced and faced the villain sternly. temper was up, and he clenched his fists. “Before I do I. will thrash you for your impertinence!” he _eried madiy. “Take that, you pauper!” Bent struck out savagely with his right fist. took Sam in the cheek, and made.a slight abrasion. At all times the young fireman was a devotee of peace, but this was taxing human endurance too far. Swift as lightning he returned the blow. kick of a horse, and Bent went down in a heap. In an instant all was a scene of excitement. The blow It was like the CHAPTER IX. \ > THE VENDETTA ENDED. In that instant Sam regretted the notoriety which thus was brought upon him. The blow which he had given Bent was well deserved, but Sam had no desire to follow it up. He essayed to take Agnes’ arm and lead her from the spot. but Bent was upon his feet in the passion of a wild beast. “Curse you!” he roared wildly. “I’ll have your life for this! You dare strike me, you young puppy!” Sam was compelled to stand upon his guard. “Stand off, sir!” he cried sternly. “I seek no quarrel with you. i give you.fair warning.” “T’]l have your heart’s blood!” hissed the ie mg as he sprang tiger-like at Sam. The young fireman was just in time to ead’ off a murder- ous blow. He was compelled to stand upon the defensive, and again, after parrying a few blows, knocked his adversary down. Bent was upon his feet, and would have rushed at Sam again, but a couple of officers reached the spot, and checked the » combat. Bent was with difficulty restrained. drag him from the hall. “Oh, Sam!” exclaimed Agnes clinging to the young fireman’s arm. “What a terrible man that is. Oh, I fear he may yet do you some fearful harm!” “Tt is not of myself I think,” replied Sam, “but of you. It is evident that he means to persecute you if he can.” “Oh, dear! It has spoiled my evening's enjoyment. “us go home, Sami!” “We will, if you desire,” replied sea’ “put do not yield to ) tear, Agnes. He ean do us no possible harm. He is a miser- _ able coward at best.” ‘ The music now. began, and the dance opened. With the in- spiring strains the young girl’s courage somewhat revived, and she allowed Sam to lead her into the dance. -. But the hall had not been circled by the dancers twice, when a startling sound “burst upon the hearing of all. the musie and brought everybody to a halt. Clang! Clang! Clang! ms Fir e! ” ‘The effect was be isevanes: Instantly a mighty rush was made by the fire boys for the outer air. There was no time to lose. Sam hastily led Agnes to a seat, where her father was play- ing the part of spectator. . “YT will see you Coeyee | ¥ he said hartauly, calls me.” > ‘The next moment he was in the outer air. It became necessary to “Good-by! i truck No. 6 stood near. Bent’s savage } Oh, let | It stopped. Bane ; Hook and Ladder | hin : Sam seized the rope, and his com rades were quickly with him. With a wild cheer they were off. They were the first. company out of the common. A dull glare against. the sky showed the directiOn to take to reach the fire. After them came the other companies. © could be definitely located. It was in the outskirts of the town; and as they drew near Sam nearly fainted with horror, as he saw that it was the Sinclair residence. : Instantly he attributed it to the ined dtanee With a mighty effort the hook and ladder truck was an up to the scene of the fire. ef Next came an engine, and then a line of hose was got ou and water was instantly thrown upon the flames. . But the fire had gained great headway. that the house was doomed. Sam’s first thought was of human life. ; ae A group of terrified seryants were huddled. near. Is there any one in the house?” he asked them. Very soon the fire “Yes,” was the reply. “Mr. Sinclair, we think, is asleep ‘i his room.” “My God!” gasped Sten pil fear he is overcome with the smoke.” He gave orders instantly to have a ladder placed against the house. The veteran, Dan Fuller, cried: “What are you going to do, Sam?” “Tam going into the house,” replied the young fireman. “What for?” “To save Mr. Sinclair.” ; “Great heavens! Is he in the house?” “ Yes. ” * 2 It was easy to see — “Then you might as well give him up. He is sure deae. x Don’t go in there, Sam. You'll never come out alive!” “It would haunt me if I knew that Mr. Sinclair was left in that house to die!” cried Sam. “Stand by, all, to run up the ladder!” zen , His command was obeyed. The ladder was: placed Against the upper chamber window sill, and Sam went up the rounds : with agility. With a blow of his ax he broke out the sash. ; A mighty volume of smoke rolled out, but this did not check him. He went through the windows and into a room beyond. By crouching down upon the floor Sam ‘made his way) through the room. He became satisfied, after a briet seapies oe tion, that there was no occupant there. aa He worked his way gradually across a hallway ed into, chamber opposite. Here the atmosphere was quite clear. Bverything in the room was as plainly visible as in daylight, the i flashin; their light in from the hall. . Be. And as he stepped over the threshold, Sam Weldon beheld — a sight which he never forgot to his dying day. ; It was a scene at once so horrible, so dreadful, that instines: tively he was forced for a moment to shut it out, clapping his hands over his eyes. : His nerves gradually beeame stronger, and then. Me as forward and knelt down over the pony. of a man lying in a pool of blood. Bn! ae Bis se Fe OT PR ea ee Bee ae } SRD ASER cae It required but a glance at the marble-hued, distorted. tea- isa tures for him to recognize Mr. Sinclair, the mill owne te Driven to the hilt i in his bosom was a dagger. Pinned to was a paper. Sam ae read plainly the words upon it, pri ed in letters of blood: See: le ‘Vendetta. Paoli Rossi is serene ee
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STILL ALARM SAM. “put the | “Oh, God! The vendetta is accomplished,” he cried; murderer must be punished.” Then he reflected that if the body perished in the flames there would be no evidence that a murder had been committed. This decided him upon a desperate move, and he bent down over the corpse of the murdered man, He quickly unpinned the bit of paper, and drew the dagger from the dead man’s breast. CHAPTER X. A DARK CRIME. a i = : Sabplacda the dagger and the paper with Paoli Rossi’s name upon it into an inner pocket of the dead man’s coat. _Mr. Sinclair was not a heavy man, and Sam easily lifted the body. He staggered toward the window by which he had entered the house. <A terrific gust of wind sent a cloud of smoke and flame into his face and nearly blinded him. For a moment he feared that he would be unable to reach the window, but the burst of flame subsided, and he saw his Way once more. Staggering with his heavy load he reached the ie at last. / . The ladder yet rested against the sill. He leaned out, and a wild cheer went up as the boy fireman appeared to view. Then it was seen that he had another person in his arms. “Tt is Mr. Sinclair,” was the cry. “Up the ladder, ai ilies and help him.” Two of the firemen sprang up the iadave tuatainine One. yeached the sill, and Mr. Sinclair’s body was lowered to him by Sam, and he in turn lowered it to the man beneath him, and in this way the dead mill owner was taken out of the burning louse. It was an easy matter then’ for. Sam to slide down to the ground safely. He was none too soon, for the flames burst up through the floor of the room he had. just left, and the ladder was with- drawn just in time to prevent its being consumed. Mr. Sinclair’s body was carried to an arbor near, and sey- eral physicians were on hand. No one suspected that the mag- nate was murdered, or even dead, until the euonane surgeons Saw the knife wound in his breast. y Then Sam appeared and told his story. The crowd were excluded from the arbor, but managed to get an inkling of the truth, when a tremendous sensation was created. Morton Sinclair, the millionaire of Norton, had been foully noaedered. Phe report was one hardly to be credited. Yet there was the verification. As soon as order could be evolved out of chaos the coroner was sent for, and ae were made for the holding of an inquest. ‘The body was removed to the undertaker’s rooms, with the - permit of the coroner. The inquest had ee pryoratey. for an early hour in the morning. The fine residence of the rich ere owner was.in ashes. The alarm had been given too late to make it possible for the fire department to extinguish the fire. Slowly the fire boys gatheréd up their traps, and prepared to leave the scene. By daybreak their engines were housed, and all were getting a brief stretch of sleep before the day | | possible. a came on. Still Alarm Sam, now that the excitement of the fire was over, ‘vealized more ao, Mine enormity and the pathoulc fea- | was made for a will. ‘ a former overseers in the fe . ; ( He could not sleep, but paced the floor of his room over the | engine house until the sun was high in the morning sky. “My God! It’s too awful for belief! ” he muttered, clenching his hands and contorting his features. “What a fearful, vil- lainous thing the vendetta is! The human hound who has taken this good man’s life should be hung higher than Ha- man. And, by the-justice, I will live to see it!” He spoke vehemently, and. felt warranted in it. Gertainly © a more. inhuman crime could not be conceived. He remem-' bered well the story toid him by Mr. Sinclair. Yes, there was no doubt as to who the murderer was. The son of the Corsican, Paoli Rossi, or, as he called himself in English, Bud Ross, was the author of the vendetta’s fright- ful consummation. : There was only one thing to be done. Bud Ross should be tracked down and convicted, after which he should suffer the penalty of the law. At the hour of the inquest Sam was promptly on hand. Quite a large crowd was present, and interest in the pro- ceedings was intense, ; Sam had only to tell the position in which he found the body, and to produce the dagger and the Ribsatein legend at- tached to it. \ This established clearly the fact that Mr. Sinclair had been. murdered. Other testimony was heard to the fact that Bud “Ross was the, Americanized son of the Corsican, Paoli Rossi. Yo his door the commission of the crime could only be laid. Apropos of this conclusion, the coroner’s jury so rendered the verdict, and at once a large reward was offered for the cap- ture and conviction of Bud Ross. The intense excitement which this affair created in the small town of Norton can well be imagined. It was the chief topic of conversation everywhere. Numer- ous enough were the theories offered as to the identity of the murderer, but no one could tell where to find him. eal And now, in the course of days, came the question as to who should be administrator of the estate of Morton Sinclair, and who were the heirs. One was prompt in turning up. A man presented himself at the office of Welch & Ward, the attorneys usually in Mr. Sinclair’s employ, and presented his claim.' He was no other than the villain Royal Bent. It was true that Bent was a nephew of Mr. Sinclair. Ashe | was the nearest living relative, there seemed no reason why : he should not inherit. There was no doubt but that, if Mr. Sinclair had left a will, he would have disinherited his dissi- pated nephew, but no will could be found. Quite a stir was created when it was reported that Bent was likely to become the successor of Mr. Sinclair. It had been more than once whispered about the town that Bent was one of the gang of incendiaries, and that his sole idea was that of) revenge upon his wealthy uncle for refusing him an allowance vad of money on the ground of family kinship. And now that it seemed certain that-the villain was to be- a come the master of the Sinclair fortune there was little won- der that people experienced a peculiar shock» and thrill. As for Still Alarm Sam, he had a strong theory, as to the identity of the murderer, but in the absence of any real proof he wals powerless to act. Mr. Royal Bent certainly had the best of the situation, He j presented his claims and substantiated them. In vain search : Mr. Sinclair had died intestate. As a result, in due course of time, ‘Royal Bent inherited the ie estate of Morton Sinclair. People shook their heads gravely, i ee? and averred as a positive belief that ‘if such a thing was only the dead man would arise from his grave to protest. — % Bent assumed the proprietorship of the Sinclair estate, in : Sy pompous manner. ‘His first move was to completely revolu tionize everything, turning away the servants, and dischargi 1) 1
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14 STILL ALARM SAM. For a time his rule was’ with a rod of iron, and he speedily incurred the hatred of all his employees. But Bent cared little for all this. His thoroughly selfish nature would admit, of charity for no one. Thus affairs went on fora long time. One fact became nota- ble. Since his succession to the estate nothing had been heard of the incendiaries. terminated. Among those. discharged from the mill was the night watch- man, Mr. Bates. that if Agnes would receive his advances he would retain her father on double pay. Of course Mr. Bates indignantly re- jected such an offer. Agnes had long since left the mill. "““Confound those paupers!.” muttered Bent savagely.. “They are as high and mighty as the king. They must be tamed, and I will do it. I will conquer that defiant little minx yet, or I will sacrifice my fortune. She shall be my wife. I swear it!” With the death of Mr. Sinclair their work With this vow, Bent at once set at work to carry out a Villainous scheme, In the consummation of his ends, he would stoop to any depth of infamy, and resort to any deed of crime. ‘He had sworn to win Agnes Bates, by fair means or foul, and from that moment his whole black soul was engrossed in the accomplishment of his object. ? CHAPTER XI. ’ IN THE LION’S DEN. With the loss of his position by Mr. Bates, the resources of the little family were badly crippled. For years the poor . man had struggled with ill health and poverty. His pay as | night watchman had sufficed to support them while it lasted, but now that it was gone starvation even seemed to face | them. » Agnes was brave and hopeful, and did much to cheer her de- pressed parents. ‘ “there ig always a way provided, ” she declared cheerfully. ' “We will hope for the best.” She had, with Sam’s aid, secured a small position in a mil- _ linery establishment, and daily went to her work. ' The pay was small, but it contributed materially to the ‘keeping of the wolf from the door, Thus matters went on for 7 some while, Mr. Bates vainly looking for a situation. Still Alarm Sam was a frequent visitor, and stood a real friend to the family. More than an ordinary degree of liking had sprung up: be- | tween him and Agnes. They were often veers | and very f happy in each other’s society. Nothing had been seen or heard of Royal Bent for a long | time. The villain seemed to have abandoned his suit with Agnes. Sam was congratulating himself upon his good fortune, “when a dire calamity descended upon the Bates Beta like a bolt from a clear sky. Bent had intimated in an insulting manner turning home at the hour of midnight, when near the engine — house a man ran out into the street and grasped his arm. He was pallid and trembling, and fearfully excited. “Oh, Sam!” he cried in hoarse tones. “I fear that some- thing dreadful has happened to Agnes.” It was Hiram Bates. The young fireman dropped out of the — ranks of the fire company and sprang to the sidewalk, followed by Bates. In that moment Sam’s whole being was on fire. “What is that, Mr. Bates?” he exclaimed sharply. do you tell me of Agnes?” “Oh, I fear harm has come to her!” “In what manner?” “Oh, I know not! She has not come home from work. | went down to the millinery SvOE Beis she left pe at et ih o'clock.” “What cat “Sam’s brain reeled. “My God!” he gasped. feared as happened.” A chaotie set of ideas and theories coursed madly through _ his brain. What should be done? ‘ He knew well enough whose work it was. Without a doubt it was a scheme of abduction, and Royal Bent was the villain. at the bottom of all. “Have you notified the aera asked Sam Poe: “Not as yet.” “That, then, is the first thing we must do,” cried the young fireman. “Come with me. We will raise heaven a earth to save her.” oe Down the street Sam wildly ran. He Sastiaa into the police station, and hurriedly stated the case to the chief. 4 In a few moments officers were dispatched to scour the city from one end to the other. Nas LM oa The report spread even at that Jate hour, and many citizens joined in the quest. i ; $ “ The blow has come! abe which I It was morning, however, before a tangible clew was se- cured. Then two men were found who told a thrilling story. They were, at the hour of nine, coming through a dark ‘street, in fact the street Agnes usually passed through, when — they heard the sounds of a scufile and afaint scream, 9 | Rushing forward they were just in time to see two men | with muffled features dragging a rane girl into a close. ‘ear- ie ese . sf Be Siar hae Rae Before they could do ates to rescue her he was ; toteed | to enter, and the éarriage was driven away at top. speed. ‘This was the story as rendered truthfully. ees That the young girl was Agnes Rates there was not the Fae | least particle of doubt. Who her abductors were was the next | question. In Sam Weldon’s mind there was not the least doubt, though he kept the matter to himself. ; Daylight came, and the morning papers informed an fh town of the mysterious fate of Agnes Bates. Ae hai Public sentiment was aroused, and everybody Givaed ‘out ‘to search for the kidnappers. The parents of the missing girl were in a frenzied state of mind. But Sam Weldon was | calm ‘and determined. - He’ wept to work in a methodical and Teso* At least three nights in the week Agnes was compelled to lute way. A remain at her Work until about nine o'clock in the evening.! There was not the slightest doubt in his mind but that Royal ing ee general thing Sam happened along keg aha and @s-, Bent was at the bottom of the villainy. _ corted the young girl to her home. Accordingly, he adopted a bold and original plan, ‘Without : But there were times, particularly when called away to a hesitation he went directly to tae Sinclair sameaahi ant called ‘fire, that Sam could not be on hand, One of the streets through which Agnes was obliged to pass” was quite poorly lighted and unfrequented at that hour. She ver felt a little timid in passing through this street alone. ‘Upon the present night she had left the store at the usual jour. Sam, ‘unfortunately, was not on hand. ‘There had been small blaze in the western part of the jetty, oe he was re- , upon Mr. Bent. z He was shown into the reception room by a servant. “A few * moments. later he was face to face with his. foe. } ' Bent looked his astonishment as he saw that his was Sam Weldon; but he si recovered, and said
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Sam looked straight and penetratingly at the villain. There was no fear or compromise in his keen gaze. “Royal Bent,” he said in a voice of steel, “there is no use of mincing matters. You know what I am here ae Re The villain affected surprise. “I shall know better when you haye explained yourself,” he declared evasively. “If necessary, then, I will explain. you have done’with Agnes Bates?” Ben recoiled, and his face became as black as a thunder cloud. He glared at the young fireman wolfishly. “What do you mean?” he exclaimed angrily. “What should t know of that girl? She does not interest me in the least. ot stealing the daughters of paupers in these days.” Trabe eare! Do not insult the young lady in my presence,” cried Sam sternly. “Once more I demand of you that you restore Agnes Bates to her home.” “Now you have gone far enough!” cried the villain threat- ‘eningly. “I am not responsible for Agnes Bates, or anybody else of her class. If you have nothing more to say to me I invite you to leave my house.” Sam only smiled contemptuously, “T am going to give you a warning, Mr. Royal Bent,” he said. calmly. “And you will do well to heed it. Don’t forget that murder will out, and the man whose soul is blackened with crime can never know prosperity. The law is close upon you: Beware!” Bent’s face was livid. He staggered back, and a bitter eurse dropped from his lips. “Hold! What do you mean?” he thundered. “Stop! shall explain to me, or, by heaven, you shall die!” The villain took a step across the room. A dagger glistened in his hand, His face wore the expression of a fiend incar- nate. But Sam Weldon’s right hand held a revolver. “Stand away from that door, you edward!” he said sternly. | “Whenever I meet you in the future I shall be prepared for you. I mean to go from this house alive. It may take weeks, perhaps years, but I shall live to avenge the people you have so vilely wronged.” Sam advanced toward the ete The pistol covered Bent, and he retreated; but there was murder in his evil glance, and Sam did not turn his’ back until he was well out of the house and assured of safety. I want to know what =e ~ You 7 CHAPTER XII. Jas DARK VISHTOR: 2 It had been at the expense of no small amount of nerve that.Sam had thus bearded the lion in his den. From that moment war was declared between himself and Royal Bent. It was a strife which could never be amicably . Settled, and could only end in death. But Still Alarm Sam was not the one to place a special / value on life where duty called. He was determined to bring Royal Bent to the wall at any cost. _ After leaving the Sinclair mansion he made his way back to the engine house buried in deep thought. He wondered much where the hiding place was in which Bent had placed Agnes. His whole being tingled as he thought of the young girl in the power of the villain. | _ She must be rescued, but how? “Ah, here was a problem not > easy of solution. - i an would 00. no good to repeals aene ‘the hues hi send an aie a) STILL ALARM SAM. Ue ge a ‘ment of Bent’s household. ‘| note, when one evening a series of' startling events broke the officer to his house to’search it. It was hardly likely ‘iat ‘he nes was confined there. But if evidence could be procured of his guilt it would be _| easy enough to put the villain in prison until he was forced to yield up his prisoner. To get this evidence was now Sam’s resolve. He lost no — time in formulating a plan of action. ae _ First, he obtained leave of absence from the fire company for a few weeks. Then he took the cars for a small town just be- low Norton, ; : ' There he registered at a hotel. In his room he proceeded to don a disguise in which he was to completely bury his identity. He succeeded well, for when he emerged from the hotel he was in no way recognizable as the man who had entered it. In this disguise he took the cars back to Norton the same | day. And now followed some amusing sealactele He met his dearest friends, who passed him by without the least sign of © recognition. His disguise was complete. — ' Satisfied of this, Sam now began operations. He visited the Sinclair mansion, and applied for a position as butler or lackey. As it happened, the butler who had been in Bent’s employ had quarreled with his rach aia fas and left. This’: was Sam’s chance. He played his part so well that he was employed Bent, and at once began his duties as servant in the household which held so many important secrets which he desired to know. It was a distasteful task to Sam to obey the commands of the villain whom he so thoroughly detested. But he knew that if he persevered ‘he was certain to win his reward. To rescue Agnes he would make even the sacri- fice of his life. It required but a brief experience in his new position for Sam to learn many disgusting things, regarding the manage- The villain had many filthy habits, being addicted to the uses of liquor and opium. While under the influence of the drug he was generally very savage and murderous. At such times he locked himself up - his room and remained there for a day at a time. — Sam used every endeavor to get a trace of the place of con- finement of Agnes Bates. Never dreaming that it might be in the near vicinity,’ he always tracked Bent whenever he left the house to make a distant excursion. : Thus several days passed without incidents worthy of special. ‘ monotony of the household. Sam, in his capacity of butler, was satin’ to the door by a ring of the bell. He opened the door to see a tall man with Z a dark cloak and-a slouch hat concealing his features Btandiis upon the steps. | - Sam experienced a peculiar thrill, and tried to 5 i a glimpse es of the stranger’s face. bt “Is Mr. Royal Bent at home”. was the query, in a rasping voice. ; “Yes, sir," replied Sam. “Walkin. I will take your card.” “No, ” tepled the dark stranger, as he crossed the threshold, “T have no card. Only tell him an old” friend ‘wants to see him. He will know who it is.” a Sam was baffled in his attempt to eet the Beate ed nam. However, he went to Bent’s room and announced. the visitor. The effect upon the villain was most peculiar. | He gay start, and his face turned livid in hue. “Ts he a tall, Gar keener Abe: sei Henry?” he asked. “He is, sir,” replied Sam. “The devil!” exclaimed Bent sourly. ae “Indeed, sir, it may be,” returned Sam, with a serape. “He is dark nave for that, sir.” yee re “
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16 STILL ALARM SAM. At this Bent laughed uproariously. But Sam had gained an important point. to perceive that this dark visitor was one whom Bent dreaded. Not as a foe, evidently, but as a dangerous colleague. Dan- gerous because possibly treacherous. Sam was quite an adept at character reading: A suspicion crossed his mind as to the real identity of the visitor. He kept cool, however, until Bent dismissed him. “Let his satanic majesty wait in the reception room,” commanded. “Tell him I will come right down.” Sam went down and obsequiously made this announcement to the visitor. Then he resolved upon a daring game. Bétween the visitor’s seat and the door was a high screen, Sam ‘opened the door and closed it, but did not leave the room. Instead, he slipped behind the screen. In a few moments the door opened, and Royal Bent entered the room. Sam experienced a thrill. “Ah!” exclaimed Bent in a hoarse voice. “My servant’ said the devil was waiting to see me down here, and I vow he was not far wrong. But we won’t talk about that. What in. the fiend’s name do you want?” “Can you ask me that?” “Money, eh?” , “Of course. How am I to get along without it? to me.” “Do 1? I don’t exactly see it. venge, not to serve me.” “Did I not do as you wanted?” “Yes, indirectly. Well, we won’t quarrel] about that, Bud. Wait a moment and I’ll fetch out some wine.” Sam Weldon experienced a strange sensation. The visitor was really as he suspected, the executor of the vendetta, the son of Paoli Rossi, and the murderer of Morton Sinclair! It was a moment of thrilling sort. he You owe it You were working for re- CHAPTER XIII. A THRILLING INTERVIEW. Still Alarm hee was not ‘unmindful of the perils of his posi- ~ tion. His place of concealment behind the screen was not of the safest. He was in the room with two murderers, who would “not hesitate to take his life. Yet he did not experieuce fear. shrewd. ' Bent went to a sideboard and took down a bottle of wine. “Yes, I suppose you are short of money, Bud,” he said cheer- ; fully, “and I'll, have to supply you; but make yourself at home. - Here is some fine old Madeira wine.” Ross sank into a chair by a table, while Bent poured the wine from the bottle. When he ria decanting it, Bent - sat opposite his pal. Ross raised the wine-glass, and drained it. The hot liquor - seemed to warm him, and his savage humor relaxed. - *Of course I’ve got to have some money,” he said sharply. “There’s no reason why you should refuse me. I have put you where you are. Isn’t that so?” _ “I will admit it,” agreed Bent. your. own ends,” _ “1 accomplished the vendetta, of a generation,” declaead the ectlcisi, “T am now freed from those vows which our peo- ple held so sacred.” ay “Sacred or not,” said Bent, “the vendetta is not recognized this country. It is considered murder Mees and pct hang for it if caught.” He was cool, calm and “Yet in that you furthered In his inner mind he was shrewd enough | ithe Corsican. (ed feeling over you for long.” learning important facts. longs to you?” “sh! Curse you! Don’t mention that matter again. You can't tell what listening ears might be about.” “Pshaw! There is no danger here. We are perfectly safe.” “Perhaps so. I don’t trust anybody nor anything,” averred “T tell you, Bent, you wouldn’t want that hunt- “Nonsense! the wine.” Ross nervously complied. The liquor was now mounting to his brain and endowing him with a false courage. “Success is ours!” he cried, with flushed face. “Old Sin- clair is out of the way. The mills are yours, and—but what about that chit of a girl?” “She is in my power,” said Bent, with areas of triumph. Sam, in his hiding place, felt his veins tingle. So exvited was he that he came near betraying himself, Truly he was Fortune was on his side. He knew now positively that Bud Ross was the murderer of Mr. Sinclair. Also, that Agnes Bates was in the power of Royal Bent, i He was fully decided in regard to a plan of ‘action. He would call the police, and have these two arch-scoundrels cap- tured. It would be bagging two birds with one shot. But fas- cination held him a listener for some moments longer. “The deuce!” exclaimed Ross, contemptuously. “I gave you credit for more sense, Bent. Don’t you know that you are meddling with fire? Women are bad things to fool with. piri will ruin a man sooner or later.” Your nerves are weak. Take some more of “ll risk it,” rejoined Bent carelessly. “I Sie ata she shall make a fool of me.” 3 v phe “All right,” exclaimed Ross gruffly. “Do as you're a mind to. Take my advice and let her alone. But this ain’t busi- — ness. I’ve got to leave the country, and you and I — AS a well settle up.” rs, “Where are you going?” ; Hae “Tam going to Corsica. Of course I haye lived in America SO long that you’d hardly take me for an Italian, but I mean to spend the rest of my life in the land of my nativity.” — 3 “A wise idea,” rejoined Bent. “Well, come let’s settle up!” . “Very well. How much money do von want?” { : ’ “One hundred thousand dollars.” i ; Bent drew back and gaye vent to a long, iow. whistle. gazed at Rogs for a moment in amazement. “Whew!” ejaculated.. “Are you crazy?” i “Hh?” exclaimed Ross.. > P Eaeiccret)' “Your demands are modest.” i “Modest!” roared. the murderer savagely. “What do you. mean? Am I not entitled to the lion’s share of the spoils?” aba “Well, that’s cool,” retorted Bent. “You really are entitled to nothing.” 1 Ross seemed dumfounded. He glared at the other 1 like a a wild beast. Then a savage oath escaped his lips. ea “By the gods of war!” he cried madly. “Dare you make such an assertion to me as that? Did I not do the work?” , “Stop a moment,” said Bent imperturbably. “Did you not execute your oath of vendetta in killing Sinclair? Was not that your purpose?” Bia f “Thunder!” roared Ross furiously. “Was it not that act ra which gave you all this wealth?” ; rb “Is it not mine by lawful inheritance? What part of it b He Jota Atte } Ross seemed stunned for a moment, He slazes. wolfishly at Bent. | angry tone. é at “T mean to settle Pete you for a ‘poason ants: amount; | there is no compulsion about it. OR more th is Bonetoelyt 43 ica
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STILL ALARM SAM. Ross drew back a step or two. There was a maddeaed glare { His aim was to first catch Ross. in his eyes. His voice was hoarse and strained. H “T always suspected you of treachery, you cur,” he hissed. ! “Now I know it; but you need not imagine that you can safe- ly browbeat me. You will meet my demands or Vu have your heart.” A knife gleamed in Ross’s hand. But Bent was prepared. A revolver was in his own grasp, and he covered the mur- derer. “Stand back!” he said threateningly. Bud. You must talk sense.” Matters had clearly reached a ¢risis. Still Alarm Sam, in his hiding place, was quick to see this, and he knew that the Geo ag EAC action had come. ~S” Ais position was such that the screen could easily “conceal his exit by the door. Swift as a flash he opened it and darted out. The slight creak of the door arrested what might have been » @ deadly conflict between the two villains. Ross gave a ia ing ery, and retreated to the far end of the room. An eavesdropper!” he cried. “We are spotted!” Bent sprang back of the screen. Nobody was there. He flung open the door. Forgotten was their feud by the two vil- lains in that moment of mutual peril. A savage curse escaped Bent’s lips, as he turned back into the room. “T’ll wager that it was some one of the servants,” he gritted. “T’d like to know how much he heard. If he heard all I'll slit the sneak’s windpipe for him!” é i ; Ross was in a state of panie and alarm. With cold perspir- ation oozing from every pore he came forward. “T’ve got to get ‘out of here,” he said nervously; “but before I go I want to know if you mean to settle with me.” r=" course I’ll settle with you,” replied Bent. “Hor how much?” — “T’ll give you ten thousand dollars.” A savage curse escaped Ross. “You'll give me one hundred thousand or nothing!” he eritted. “Understand it, I want the money this week. There's no fooling about it. If you don’t——” ne ‘Ross made a significant motion across his throat. laughed contemptuously. Before he could say anything, how- ever, Ross gave a cry of alarm and glided into an adjoining room. He was none too soon, for the tramp of feet was heard in the hall, the door burst open, and several police officers rushed into ' the room. ~The scene which followed was a “most exciting one. , i CHAPTER XIV. EXCITING INCIDENTS. — / ns f - Of course Still Alarm Sam was responsible for the arrival of the police. He rushed in with the officers, and Bent, catch- ‘ing sight of him, turned livid in countenance. The villain then knew that his butler had been | bokind the i scenes all the time, and had overheard the pastes of his con- q ir oversy with Ross. For a moment Royal Bent saw his ares tumbling in) ruin 4 about his ears. - But an incident served to enable ee to collect his Senses, | , and a wonderful tact brought betes face to ee, with the hist tion. ii Sam had worked his game shrewdly. He had idnicteak ‘the “You can’t bluff me, | Bent | enough to denounce Bent. © ; He had very shrewdly not apprised the officer of the true facts of the case. He had simply intimated to them that his master was being assaulted by a man named Ross. Accordingly, as the officers entered, he cried: _ “This is the room, boys! Now, catch the omadhoun and lock him up! He’s gone into the other room! Oh, ye’ll catch him sure!” pL : iis : Then he ran up to Bent, crying: “Shure, masther, it’s safe yes are! 1 was afraid that the vilyun would kill ye intoirely.” : In an instant Bent was himself again. He had, as he deh posed, at once grasped the situation. He regarded Sam as a thick-headed fellow, who had uncon- sciously played eavesdropper, and who was not capable of wah derstanding the conversation between him and Ross, ‘but who’ had summoned the police because he imagined that hig mas- ter’s life was threatened. Mentally Bent cursed, and then rejoiced in the apparent stupidity of his butler. Sam, on the other hand, consretiiated himself on the suc- cessful hoodwinking of the villain. ; But the officers did not capture Ross. The villain escaped by means of a fire escape. Sam pretended to be much con- cerned about his master’s safety. “Shure, I thought it was kilt intoirely yez would be!” he | cried excitedly. “Did I do right in bringing the perlice, sor?” “No.” growled Bent. “There was no necessity for that. The fellow could do me no harm.” “What are the facts, sir?” asked the paltes captain, when it had become assured that Ross had escaped. “Were you as- saulted?” “Not at all.” “Your servant asserts that you. were.” “Servant be hanged!” eried Bent angrily. “He is a fool, If he had been attending to his own business instead of play- ing eavesdropper——” . “Shure, masther, it was all so unintentional!” cried Sam, affecting innocence. moight help yez if the vilyun did ye harrum.” ¥ “Well, if I eatch you at such a trick again I'll break your. . : “Get out of the room. Poa iz rascally back!” cried Vaneas angrily. a mind to discharge you.” “But we understand that this visitor of yours was Ross, et “Tf he» was: We guilty of no crime, why did he attempt flight so paiegaeh +e the ineendiary,” intimated the police captain. when we came in?” Bent changed color. “I don’t know who the cuss was, "he growled. in here to jew me out of some money. TI should have had him ejected as it was. His name might haye been Ross or Goss, for all I know or care. He isn’t here now, that’s all. I don’t wan to be bothered again it such a visitor.” Ei “But if he is Ross,” persisted the’ police ae “he is a criminal of note, and we would like to i eS ra Can you give us no clew?” “None whatever.” Ne ' ; + “Very well, sir,” said the police captain, turning © the iets “This is an affair of singular aspects. We shall. keep | a close watch of your house in the future, sir, to make sure ‘that row are troubled by no more such visitors.” Maka Bent disregarded the officer's sarcasm. When the poltes 1 had ‘gone he paced | the floor in a peculiar frame of mind. “He pulled he, bell suddenly. Sam appeared in answer. ys “James, Lig want to talk with’ you,” * he ‘said curtly. | down there by the table.” . Then it ‘would be easy. “T was behind the screen, so ‘that BE! “He came — Seleensy: of Ross giving them the aligh and had so provided: Oe Sam ‘obeyed. Bent then ree, locked the door. ip ¢ } ; 7 fae ;
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with you, you prying scoundrel. tell rhe how much you know.” Bent’s glittering gaze was upon Sam, and pierced him | STILL, ALARM. dee Don’t dare to equivocate, ao ig t the young fireman steadily. “Tam not yet ready. ‘When you x0 to the scaffold I want you to accompany Bud Ross.” A maddened cry escaped Bent’s lips, and he drew a revol- ‘through and through. The young fireman felt that he was | ver. perilously near exposure. “Shure, sor, what do yez mean?” he asked, assuming sim- plicity. “You know what I mean.” “How should I, sor?” “Didn't you overhear every word of that conversation this afternoon, sir?” “Shure, I did, sor.” “Well, that’s the idea. about, don’t you?” ; “I know that yez came moighty near having a scrap, sor. 1 was afraid yez wud get the wust of it.” Bent gave an exclamation of impatience. He went up to Sam, and. said: i “No fooling now, James. You are not so thick-headed as you appear.” ee ig “hank ye, sor.” : \ “T want to know what you overheard us say?” Sam affected an expression of comprehension. playing his part admirably. “Oh, that’s phwat yez are driving at,” he cried... “Shure, an’ I’m not the kind of a sarvant what tells tales out of school, sor.” ; A fiendish light shone in Bent’s eyes. This was a practical _ admission that his butler had really heard all, and SOmD EGS _ hended it, too. “The question was now, what sort of a man was he? Could he be trusted with these mighty secrets which he had _over- heard? Inwardly Bent believed that it would be fatal to per- mit any living man to retain possession of them. ety EDO villuin’s mind was busily at work revolving different _ plans over and over. All the while he kept a close scrutiny of Sam's face. proved a fatal thing for the pseudo butler. - Sam’s disguise had hitherto been infallible. Now, however, 3 unfortunately one corner of the fringe of beard which extended around under his chin became slightly’ detached. _ At a distance this would have been unnoticed; but at such ; close quarters, and under such a searching serutiny, it was | fo easily discernible. oF Royal Bent gave a slight start at sight of it. ‘his. worst fears found realization. “sharp ery escaped his lips. Swift as a flash he grasped the false. whiskers, and off they came. _ Sam sprang up, and stood revealed before him. It was a dramatic tableau, which seldom finds a counterpart in real life. of Was Ehuaa | tnouent” something was wrong about, this!” cried Bent fiercely, “It is you, Sam Weldon, and this is vene trick! Now you are unmasked! * Sam confronted the villain, coolly and calmly. He was con- ; scious that, although exposed, he had. the best of the situation. “Yes, Royal Bent, it is I)” he said scathingly; “and I have faved long enough beneath this roof to gather evidence of your guilty relations with the fiend who murdered your uncle, Mor- } ton Sinclair. Tremble, Royal Bent, for I have you in my i power.” i on ane the villain did tremble sae a mortal. eee Pe You know what we were talking He was “This Instantly | He ou fier no deidehes against me!” he cried, with bravado. “You ca ‘convict me of nothing! He }; my purpose to deliver you up “abs ‘the law yet,” said Fs B CHAPTER XV: THE STILL ALARM. “Qurse you!” he yelled. “I will teach you that you cannot cross my path and live. If I go to the scaffold let it be, oneR for ridding my path of you!” i Only quick action on Sam’s part at that moment. saved his life. He sprang forward and gripped the villain’s wrist. . The revolver exploded, but the ball lodged in the ceiling. ‘The next instant Sam had wrested the weapon from his ads... versary and. flung it across the room. But Bent was savage, and disposed to fight. He closed with Sam, and a desuitory struggle followed. ‘For a few moments it was hard to tell) which had the worst of it. Now one was down, and then the other, and in . this manner they struggled for some time. Then Sam suddenly got tie upper hold, and forced ais foe ‘ to the floor, There he held him pinioned. Bent ceased struggling, and was at Sam’s mercy. The young fireman was cool and detorintned: “Royal Bent,” he said sternly, “I have you at my mercy. [f I was to take your life the world would be+rid of a monster; but you ea not, tremble, I do not want your Blood upon my { conscience.’ ne “What are you going. to do?” asked the villain évaftity. 4 “T want you to truthfully answer a, eee t shall BSF 40 “What is it?”” : “Where is Agnes Bates?” The villain leered insolently. — “That you will never know,” he gritted. but [11 cevey Natl FOU ee » “May Heaven have mercy on your cowardly aoa if you. have done her harm,” said the young fireman impressively. a “She has promised to become my ite, si ead villain. Sam’s face flushed hotly. “Liar!” he cried. “You shall seé.” \ The temptation was a ae, upon the young fireman at that moment to kill the cuales villain as Sie would an re) \- | noxious reptile. But the thought oceurred to mi ‘that it was, aide al human life, and the idea was so repulsive it restrainegeny ‘He relaxed his hold upon the Villain. He knew tuat he had ne weapon, and could bs spe no ape 80 a permitted him to arise. f ° An honorable man would have ‘thanked. an “adversary, for ‘ thus sparing him; but Royal Bent's craven soul was ber such an expression as this. | * ey He retreated to another corner of “tie room and glared Sam vengefully. : “T mean to rescue Agnes. Boren ‘from your clutches, vs eel: red the young fireman firmly. “And before I leave your track, Royal Bent, you shall have expiated all your wretched eri i ae acs a You can ill me f I Avould: advise you for ant ehiee faicies to the man who strikes first “If you will unlock thet door 1 will take ny. ‘Sam haa ote F
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. a Close surveillance of Bent’s house was maintained. if 2 ; --swer at once, for I Pianit to go across the big pond and open | ty, I saw them crush his skull in, then Py tussled with them. ! business. He was not popular, yet prospered. ; a | were quickly upon the flames. SNL “ALARM SAM. JN hE atch. Rotella ao fs - = ata 2 ame Ses ‘ Parlour some opportunity to do his foe injury, but there was 1 no chance, | “* The Sinclair ‘Mills; I will pate my Lashed Up, boys! ‘There's | : a Reflection decided him. ae for us Sat sue (e He advanced to the door and unlocked it. _ “You may go this time,” he said, with a leer; “but the next} time—beware!” Sam unheeded this remark, and passed out.. A moment later he was upon the street. He took a look at the house as he went cut. r “There is no possibility that Agnes is held a captive there,” he mentally concluded. “TI have been several days under that roof, and ought to have discovered her if such was a fact. i wonder where the villain has her secreted? * It must be my | first move to learn)” j ‘It was possible that Sam might have one by making one bold stroke and placing Bent under arrest. But without thuleapture of Ross also, it would be a difficult matter to fur- nish other than circtimstantial evidence of the villain’s com- plicity with Ross. - It could not as yet be proved that he was the abductor of Agnes Bates. Little would be gained, therefore, by BIpesane the villain. Sam did not for a moment lose sight of the fact that he was playing a difficult game with dangerous forces; but Ross was the acme of villainy and deceit, and shrewd enough to outwit the keenest of foes. ~ Now that he had openly showed his hand to, Bent, Sam became well assured that his life would be sought by the ' foe.. Yet this did not daunt him. He yet ‘clung to the belief that his safest aatt wisest course was to keep low, and fight the battle out by strategic moves. Thus decided, he went downtown to the engine house ae re- ‘gumed his duties, \ eck he kept in close communication with the patos, ‘and CHAPTER XVI. A FEARFUL BLOW. Still Alarm Sam slid down to the floor below. The perma- neut men of the company were prompt in following him. The doors of the engine house were thrown open, and the ery came in from the street: j “Fire! Wire!” Sam knew well enough that it was the Sinclair Mills. © still alarm from that box would mean nothing else. Out into the street dashed the laddies of No, 6 with a cheer jand a rush. The long, hard run to’ the fire was begun, - Up one ‘street and down another they ran with full ‘speed. Soon they came in sight of the burning mills. ~ ‘And it was a sight most thrilling to behold! ‘The aingn were leaping from the second spel of the mills, and wage ea under way. No. 6 was the nat fire company on ee ‘spot when a mua with staggering tread. and blood-stained features came up to — him. » j iy HO ees “Sam, J’m pretty near done for.. Of course I don’t work in’ the mill now, but I got on to the. incendiaries’ game, and came down here to spoil it. I got’ badly used up, as you see,” «Hiram Bates!” gasped Sam, as he recognized the erstwhile watchman. i . “sh *That’s my name,” replied the ex-watchman. “your'e hard- ly know me, would you?” gases ea a ‘i / * “What happened to you?” ; “It’s quite a story; but Vl Ae it short. eat, two howe sd ago I was on my way home, when Bi saw two men prowling about the mill.yard. I suspected that they. were incendiaries, | and started to give the alarm; but on second thought I pied ed my mind and went to trailing them about, “ is | “Well, just after twelve I lost track of ‘them. I'd thought of ¢ “Royal Bent:—I want to know if you are going to fork over | telling Jim Martin, who took my place as watchman, but before ‘that hundred thousand. If you don’t you know what it ‘is to} T ala find him I heard éries for help. I rushed ‘into the yard, — i make an enemy of me. I'll make life miserable for you. An- and the two incendiaries were pounding Jim into insensibili- © hoss had eluded the officers in his usual skillful manner. Reporte had it that he had quit the region forever, but this was far from the truth. It was disproved to Bent when he! received the following one day: up business in Monaco. Yours truly, Bud Ross.” “They downed me, and I reckon they'd have kitled. me, but ¥ | managed to get away frem them. When I called for help they — Bent aiitien his teeth, atk gake the epistle into the fire.}ran. But the mills were already ee and I had Just time i “Perhaps Bud thinks I am a fool,” he muttered. “He isn’t | to ring in the still alarm. if 5 entitled to any part of the money. ‘It’s mine justly. He don’t| Hiram Bates staggered to a seat on the sidewalk near, Baie : want to fool with me too ae either, or I'll make life miser- listened to his story with tingling. veins. eis able for him.” “Did you recognize the incendiaries?” he asked, | ’ Peat spirit was infused into the letter which Bent returned “One on ’em was that rascally bookkeeper, Bud Ross. Tiplt aes wag Ross, ‘afer ing him mean the “ gift” of ten thousand dol- - “I thought so!” exclaimed Sam. “Tt is his revenge upon af lars. : Tear Royal Bent. Well, keep quiet and easy for a. little while, Mr, “That's the last I will do,” he muttered. “He can take it or Bates. My attention: is required here ae: now. ‘ nee pe? out for you later,” : ‘Jn this course Bent had not consulted policy of discretion. “That is all right, my boy!” cried. Bates, *Go- to aes auty ia He instantly transformed Ross from an ally into an implaca- | Don’t mind me; I’m ‘all right. kG eee ae eR 2 ble foe. Revenge was one of the Corsican’s attributes, Sam ‘dashed away, and was soon engaged in the work of di i The mills had ‘been running: on full time under the new recting the firemen. how to conquer the flames. ayers Eh: management, Bent seemed fully capable in his new line of - Other companies now began to arrive, and streams ‘of water “But an hour of reverses was at hand. Villainy néver yet, ‘phe whole town was aroused, But ‘the owner of. the valuable a ; pauniyhed unless for a period, and. Bent’s case was ae excep- “property, Mr. Royal Bent, was: conspicuous by his absen tion. f ; : ee { This seemed strange, . inasmuch as it was well known that! ae, night Sam Weldon heard once more the clickety-click ‘he was at his home but a short. distance away. > of the still ‘alarm indicator 1 near his cot in the engine room. One well-disposed_ citizen ‘thought that. informatio “sl ang up he Bey they f box was No, 60. a5 ibe conveyed to him, so went to his house he ¢ at heres and eit ates he: learned fro
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20 itd TLL “ALARM SAM. Bent had been upon a prolonged spree, and was in a drunken stupor from which he could not be aroused. The incendiary had struck his vengeful blow at just the right moment. Upon his awakening from the drunken slumber Bent would find himself confronted with an appalling realiza- tion. At the fire no braver fight was ever placed on record than that made by the fire boys of Norton. Still Alarm Sam seemed everywhere. at all times, and partic- ularly at a critical juncture, His brave work was an inspira~ tion to the others. Now he was up a ladder directing the course of a new stream of water. Again he was on-the roof, or cutting his way into the mill to get a more advantageous position. The battle was conducted‘on a skillful and scientific prin- ciple. But for a number of things which baffled the bravest effort, the fire boys would have scored a great victory. . The incendiary had done his work thoroughly. But Ross liad meant to strike a blow which this time should be felt. With consummate cunning he had caused the firing: of: the mills in at least twenty different quarters. The entire fire uy department of Norton was not adequate for such a task. While conquering the flames in one section, they were only bursting forth more fiercely in another. And so the desultory battle went on. ‘All night the flames were in turn subdued and rampant. Time and again they were gotten under control, only to burst forth again. with fresh fury. / The fire boys had worked until the stupor of exhaustion was upon many of them. But it’soon bécame evident that it was beyond human power to save the Sinclair Millls. This time the incendiary had triumphed. It was a dark hour for Norton. People stood with sinking hearts and watched the work of destruction which no human power could avert. Gradually the fire gutted the noble buildings, consuming _ the valuable machinery and leaving the walls to crumble and fall to complete the ruin. : It was a sad spectacle, and many turned away sick at heart. Others watched with dread fascination. . The major part of Norton’s population depended upon the mills for support. Hundreds would be thrown out of employ- ment now. ‘Had Mr. Sinclair been alive there would ale been a differ- ent feeling. People would have had confidence in his ability h. the people. He had not even their respect. By daybreak the sad final came. The noble mills of Norton, the pride of that industrious section, covering acres of ground,. “sO magnificent was their extent, were in ashes. -. It was a fearful blow to the town of Norton, as well.as to the owner, Royal Bent. “The latter knew nothing about it until the next day. Then he came out of his: ‘debauched slumber to be confronted ‘with ' an appalling realization. The effect upon him was intense and singular. fut first he seemed petrified. Then anger contorted his vis- ‘age, and he fouled the air about him with curses most fright- ful to hear. if “TN follow Bud Ross for this!” » he raved. “I'll wring his heart for it. Revengé, eh? Well, I’ll show him how to wreak i “yevenge! I'll have his life!” | Not one stone was left upon another, ScataseeL aay speak- ing, of the Sinclair Mills. Bent suffered himself to be pes own to the scene of the destruction that day. He viewed the ruins, and then, still raving madly, went bade nome. The newspapers “soon, contained advertisements of a ; to remedy the mishap; but Royal Bent had not the trust of | | For a few days Bent was furious in his efforts to capture the ~ incendiaries. Then a reaction set in. Whether it was remorse for his past conduct or the nnpate ing force of the sense of doom which hung over him, it would not be easy to estimate, but he relapsed into another spell of debauchery. He held a high carousal at his*palatial home, and for days lay in a drunken stupor. He was fast paving the way to that ruinous end which ever overtakes the evil doer. CHAPTER XVII, A TURN IN SAM’S AFFAIRS. The result of the loss of the Sinclair Mills was to create much. distress and financial stricture in Norton. As nothing had been said’ by Bent about rebuilding the mills, there’ was a strong fear that he ata not do so, and a panicky feeling prevailed. Many people began to make preparations for emigration. Others could not accept this alternative, for they had not a penny with which to accomplish the move. j With this state of affairs’ in existence, there was of neces- ; sity much suffering, and even danger of actual starvation. Those were dark days for the beautiful little town of Nor- \ ton. And nobody felt worse than Still Alarm Sam. He loved the associations of the place, and could not bear to see it go back. Yet he seemed powerless to avert the sittiation. poor lad himself, and devoid of money or influence. Thus matters went on for a time. . The most strenuous — efforts had been made to capture the incendiaries, butts, aes, were shrewd enough to give the detectives the slip. ais After a time a committee of citizens saw fit to wait uron Bent and approach him upon the matter of rebuilding the — mills. An evasive answer was all the satisfaction they re- ceived. 3 “If I feel like it I shall rebuild,” Bent declared, when fur- i ther pressed. “It is my business and pasate else’: is Let that end Ltt ; “It was not long after this before a dark rumor found ie culation. in Norton. i ot He was a It began to be whispered about that Bent would never re- build, for the fact that he would never be able to. Report had it that he lacked the necessary capital. s Not that Morton Sinclair had not left plenty of money; but me Bent had got away with it in a summary manner. There were thrilling rumors of heavy losses at the pate ; table; in one case, of fifty thousand dollars in one night. There was no doubt but that Royal Bent i oe on the at P path. ORF : Creditors now began to Gamer for their money. Bent’s no was besieged by dozens of tradesmen and other victims: of the ‘ villain’s extravagance. _ x All hope was lost that Royal Bent would rebutla the: big mills. 'The people of Norton became downcast, and i ese i: city began to rapidly depopulate: nis Even Still Alarm Sam began to consider the advis bility. of leaving—not from choice, but from. the sheerest neces: ty iS He was a young man, and yet had his way to make in the world. In his extremity Ae met Hiram Bates and told him of his pephiutte phle so happy, but hacia seems ; to demand i ms eer iia pattie head,
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eos. + pow. 3 ; For a moment he was dazed. ai ‘any of his descendants, something of great value will be learn- rich uncle is dead.” ; “No, Sam!” he cried. “You're not to aie of that. The town of Norton cannot spare you.” There. was a pleased light in Sam’s eyes, “TJ have many kind friends in Norton,” he said. “Yes, and it would pain them to have you leave, Sam. Only hold on a little while raphe There will An be a chance for the better before long.’ “IT wish I might be assured of that,” ave Sam drearily. “I feel sure of it. Indeed, Sam; if I only knew that Agnes Was once more at home, safe and well; I think I would laugh all my other troubles to scorn,” Sam indulged in a shiver, “It is strange where the villain has hidden her away!” he exclaimed. “I can get no clew.” “At times I am tempted to visit and openly accuse him.” “No,” declared Sam, “that would not be wise. We would gain nothing by such a move. Patience and steady work will win the game.” “T hope you are right, my boy.” “But why' was I born penniless?” said Sam, as he paced up and down. “Now, if I only had money enough, how quickly I would rebuild the mills!” Hiram Bates gave a violent start. “Haven't you any wealthy relatives, Sam?” he asked. “What good would that do me?” asked the young fireman abruptly. “Well, considerable good, if they were to die and leave you a fat pile.” ¢ Sam gave a start. “TI have heard of my uncle in New York,” he said slowly. “My father has told me of his vast wealth; but that uncle never would help me.” : “Why not?” “T doubt if he knows that I am in existence.” 6 re 2¢ if he should die——” oie ‘would probably will all his money to some charitable institution before he would think of me.” “Ah! But supposing he dies intestate?” Sam turned upon Bates, “What are you driving at?” he isle shortly. The ex-watchman was so eager and excited that he trembled like an aspen. ‘ 4 | could hardly believe. it was the same,” he said; “and yet it may be. You say you have a wealthy uncle in New York. What was your father’s full name?” iram Weldon.” “Ah! Was he ever a fireman?” “Yes, “at one time he was chief of a fire. company in New York City.” “Tt is the same!” muttered Bates excitedly, - Sam at that moment fancied the ex-watchman crazy. But, Bates drew a newspaper from. his pocket, and indicated a graph for Sam to read. All the color faded from the young man’s face, as he read: “Information Wanted:—If this is seen by Hiram Weldon, once Chief of the Mazeppa Fire Company of New York City, or ed by addressing Howes & Hurd, Att’ys-at-Law, No. — Broad- way, N. ee uf ( “why, that ‘ealls for my father! ” Se aad Sam. “TI wonder what it means?” “Sam,” said Bates ‘Abptatioa ty, “vou go right to the ines graph office and answer that at once. It’s two to one that your } * Sam’s brain swam 1 witli the mere. thought: of jegon a thing. ‘Then ne decided to Peer the advice. STILL ALARM SAM. hy sal A Saar “My. Bates,” he said, with an effort, “I thank you for calling — my attention to this. I might never have known of it but for you.” : “That's nothing, my boy!” cried the plutf pes Wee g hope you’re the heir to a million. day of my life.” Sam hastened at once to a telegraph office. He hastily indited a dispatch to Howes & Hurd, the lawyers ~ in New York. A reply came back as follows: one It would be the happiest “Sam Weldon:—Glad to hear from you. Our Mr. Ward will come te Norton to-morrow to see you. Please meet him at evening train. Yours, etc., Howes & Hurd.” Of course Sam was on hand at the. evening train. As it rolled up to the station platform a man alighted, whom Sam at once singled out as his man. He was short and business-like, and well dressed. As if by intuition, he came at once up to Sam. “Mr. Weldon?” he asked. “Yes, sir,” replied Sam: “T am,” was the reply. “Iam very glad to see you,” said Sam, sincerely, as he took the other’s hand. “Are you Mr. Ward?” CHAPTER XVIII. A WINDFALL OF LUCK, Sam had hired a room at the hotel, and he proceeded to show Mr. Ward thither. The lawyer’s proxy was not slow in approaching the matter on hand. He threw aside his coat and hat when they reached the hotel, and said: “Well, now, perhaps; Mr. Weldon, you can satisfy me quick- ly as to your identity. Please show me vouchers as to your relationship to Hiram Weldon of New York.” } “Why, is that required?” asked Sam. “You say your father is dead?” — “Yes.” : “Very well. You are the next of kin, and necessarily the — heir.” — wae , " vy “Heir!” gasped Sam. “Heir to what?” ~ “Why, your uncle’s estate, of course.” Sam felt a weakness in the knees. “What, is my mundo ——r ier ‘ “Dead? Yes—three months ago, and he . ata not leave ans will. If you can prove that you are Sam Weldon you are in : great luck, I can tell you.” For a time Sam could not shen? whelined, His uncle dead, and he heir to a vast fortune. much like a dream to be true. The impatient little attorney was wholly ‘ode of pete s “Come! Come!” he cried. “My time is, valuable.” “What do you want?” asked Sam, suddenly arousing. © “I want you to prove your identity.” , “Pshaw! Is that all?” exclaimed Sam. “I'll soon do that.’ It was but a few moments’ work for him to produce a smal] % easket containing old family documents and records, his. par- i ents’ certificate of marriage, his own evidence of birth, and a other papers, which pretty thoroughly. ‘satisfied the man of law. , iat congratulate you, Mr. Weldon,” he said finally. “Do you know how large an inheritance is yours?” “No,” replied Sam. ua ‘ - “No,” replied Sam. ‘i air “well, ‘to set At low, aeNs is vat Feast a a aera and a halt He was completely over- It was : ‘too
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“STILL 92 ALARM SAM. Sam felt giddy with the force of this revelation, it was such ‘a sudden transition from the penniless young fireman of No. 6 to the station of millionaire. For a time he could not realize it, but it was a certain reality. ‘ Mr. Ward at once telegraphed his firm in New York, and Sam was informed that in a very few days the property would be made over to him. ‘The young fireman was yet too dazed to fully realize the enormity of his good fortune. Of course the report spread-like wildfire. Hverybody in Norton knew in a very short, space of time that Sam Weldon had fallen heir to a million. Congratulations poured in: upon Sam at an alarming rate. He accepted them gracefully, however, and after a time began to feel more like himself. No one seémed more pleased than Hiram Bates. Sam’s hand excitedly, and cried earnestly: “Now, my boy, you'll not feel obliged to leave Norton. more running to fires.” “T have no intention of giving up my position on No. 6 yet,” replied Sam. “You'll want to do it in’ time.” “Perhaps so. I thank you, Mr. Bates, for your kind wishes.” '“T mean them, lad. Be sure of that. But do you mind what we were talking of not a week back? You said that if you had the money you'd gladly rebuild the Sinclair Mills.” '* With an inspiration, Sam cried: 7 “Tll stick to my word. If I can buy the mill site from Royal Bent, I'll do it.” “Hurrah!” eried Hiram Bdtes excitedly. true blue, Sam Weldon.” Like wildfire the report flew through the town that Sam Weldon with his newly acquired wealth meditated rebuilding the mills.. The rumor created great excitement. _ Sam’s sudden rise in the world did not by any means affect his personality. He wag the same as ever, and his popularity was greater than before. It was not long before the estate of his uncle was settled up, and then, with the due formalities of law, the inheritance was - made over to him, There was rich, paying property in New York,. stocks, bank accounts and interests in Western mines. footed up to a comfortable million and a half. cD suppose, Mr. Weldon, you will come to New York to live now?” said Howes, of the firm of Howes & Hurd. “No, sir,” replied Sam. | “Ah! You do not mean to stay here in this small town?” “That is just what I mean.” : “But it will hardly be ficld enough for all this capital.” “I think it will be field for all that I shall invest,” siege ; Sam quietly. “This is the town of my adoption. r ‘The young fireman meant every word. He went that a. to call upon Royal Bent. By a stroke of good luck he found the villain at home. Bent showed the effects of a deep debauch, and his speech was thick, and his manner rude. j “Well, what do you want?” he asked, glaring at Sam stupidly. ° “TY have called to see you upon Biaineas’ 2B replied the young fireman. “What is your business?” _ “First, let me ask you a question?” ~ “Well?” “Do you intend to rebuild the Sinclair Mills?” - Bent gazed insolently at Sam. - “What is that to you?” he asked.. “A great deal. If you do not intend to rebuild, will vou sell He fancied it all a dream; He wrung No “T knew you were railroad It all me the site?” , aa seemed ‘cite ‘He gazed at Sam a moment eriti- teeeont | cally. He had not heard of the young fireman’s good fortune as yet. “You buy the site?” he exclaimed, with a sneer. is your money?” “As long as you get your price, that is ogg you can care for,” replied Sam. “Are you joking me?” “T am in dead earnest,” Bent looked incredulous. “Humph! You haven’t got money enough to buy it. thousand dollars in cash will buy it, and nothing less.” It was evident that the villain expected that this would squelch the young fireman: To his surprise Sam _ replied quietly: d “Make out a receipt for me for ten thousand dollars.” “Where / replied Sam. ; He grinned sardonically, and said: Ten Still fancying that Sam was playing a bluff game, Bent took —. a pen from the table. Sam wrote out a check and laid-it down. Then he picked up the receipt written by Bent. Astounded, Bent picked up the check. Tt was drawn on a prominent New York bank. In that instant it flashed upon him that Sam was, after all, in earnest. Throwing down the check, he cried excitedly: “T have decided not to sell the mill site for that sum.” CHAPTER XIX. | . THE VILLAIN CORNERED. Sam had shrewdly) foreseen this exigency. He knew well — the arbitrary nature of the villain, and that it would be like him to refuse to sell the site should he suspect that the mills. were likely to be tebuilt. ieee There is no doubt that Sam would have failed in his’ prey cet had he not employed strategy. ; As it was he only smiled and picked up his hat. “Good-day, Mr. Bent. site; but I have paid you for it.” } “Never!” cried Bent, wildly. “I tell you I won’t sell.” im “Of course you won’t; for it is mine.” “That is a lie. I have received no pay” roared the qitain “Hold!” cried Sam, holding up the’Yeceipt. “Here ts your signature to this, which is a literal bill of sale, payment by check. You cannot evade that, Royal Bent.” : The villain’s eyes for a moment gleamed with baffled hate ‘and fury. Then a sinister glare puparened this and he anne mockingly: “TJ will swear that this is a forgery. > If you want to gepaiias the mills in this town, Sam Weldon, you may find a site for 1 yourself. I can tell you that you cannot have mine.” Sam’s patience was exhausted. He placed the receipt in his pocket and walked straight up to the arbitrary scoungirel, - “You unmitigated villain! ” he ejaculated, forcibly, thrusting a clenched fist under the wretch’s nose. “You have played — and core. You were the cause of Morton Sinclair’s death. You | seek the utter ruin of everybody and everything with which | you come in contact. You are an enemy to all mankind, a lying, ‘sneaking, thieving, murderous villain. ‘But I bid you beware, There is a time of defeat for you close at hand which — you cannot overcome. tion.” ‘ The wretch fairly cowered Haneda Sam’s righteous wrath, “You did not dream that I had sufficient money to buy the mill’ site,” continued the! young fireman, scathingly. “But have to say to, you that the goddess of. Fortune has 81 : me of late. I am the fortunate heir’ to a malities ae You asked a good price for the mill , rs f Received — | from the first a murderous, cowardly game. T know you, heart © ef You are on the pare road. to. perdi- sa
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_ STILL. Ram knows your circumstances better than I. on know that you have miserably squandered Morton Sinclair’s fortune, that you have nothing left but this mill site, which you have just sold to me. Now, take your money for it, and lense Norton. You have run your career here. The air will stifle you if you stay | here longer. I will not answer to public opinion for your life. Take my advice, cash that check, and never’ blacken this town with your obnoxious presence again.” Every word uttered by Sam was to the point, and a telling Shot. The truth laid down in this manner to the villain was too plain and palpable for him to overrule. With a sullen curse he picked up the check, “Well,” he gritted, “I made you pay well for it, anyway.” “I paid you your price, which admits of no equivocation,” plied Sam. “My lawyer will call to-morrow for the deeds.” ww Bent sat for a moment with working features, which be- trayed the baffled schemes working in his mind. With sudden inspiration he cried: re- f “You're a lucky dog, Sam Weldon. So you're going to re- et build the mills, eh?” “That is my purpose.” “Let me give you a pointer.” “Well?” “They won't stand long.” There was a significance in the villain’s words which gave a thorough understanding of his meaning. '“They will stand long enough to entrap the incendiaries who may try to fire them,” the young fireman retorted, fierce- ly. “That is a fair warning for you, Royal Bent.” “For me?” gasped Bent. : “What do you Mean?” “J need not particularize further.” “Do you dare to accuse me of incendiarism?” fumed the vil- Jain. “Of complicity with incendiaries—yes.” Sam met Bent’s gaze coolly, quietly and penetratingly. The villain knew that he was in the hands of a master power. “You are the devil and all,” he gritted. “You have got the best of the situation, I will admit—just now.” “I intend to have the very best of it to the very end,” replied Sam, coolly. ing.” a3 Dy as iy ees “T know you through and through. plate you on the gallows, if I see fit. Easy; do not attempt a _ bluff game. It will not work. In a very short while you will be desperately in need of money.” ; “AY then you want to secure my services for some little scheme?” asked Bent, with a sneer, “In a certain measure—yes. I will pay you quite a large sum | of money if you will agree to restore Agnes Bates, alive and well, #0 her parents.” "The villain for a moment was silent. laxed into a sinister, almost deyilish smile. “Ah!’? he exclaimed, with a fiendish glee. “There is the _ place where I can tightly squeeze you. I understand it well, my friend. I have never admitted that I know anything of Agnes Bates’ disappearance,” “That is not material,” said Sam; earnestly. “T want to know if you will make’ terms.” — “Tf I really knew where the girl was,” Batt Bent, guardedly, “there is not money enough under the sun to induce me to give her up to you. She should be mine forever. We will drop the ‘subject, if you please.” -Sam saw that it was no use to try to compromise with’ the villain. He accepted the advice to drop the subject. “Then our business for to- -day is terminated,” he said, moy- ing toward the door. “I will bid you good-day.” “Come, Royal Bent, let us have an understand-| It is possible for me to Then his features re- E ~The. door: closed behind him, For a moment after his Jie é paver: Revel Henk stood in the cent t of the ‘room, ete. al meee mixture of fp dedaiy passion blended in his evil face most fright. ful to see. He gripped the corner of the table for support, so fierce were his emotions. $ “Curses on that young fiend!” he gritted, savagely. “ He ‘has ruined me, and he is not yet done with me. I can see it in his eye. He will carry out his threat and see me on the scaf- fold. I can see the walls of the ruin tumbling about me. And ~ Ah, I begin to see yet only a few days ago victory was mine. that I have been a fool.” He went to a shelf near and took down a decanter of wine. He poured out a liberal. drink. “It will steady my nerves,” he said. enemies.” He drained the glass, and then sank into a seat. The fumes of the wine stimulated his fuddled brain. clinched bis hands with a sudden spasm, and gritted: “Ah! I have been a fool; but: we shall see. The end is not yet. Let him rebuild the mills, if he dare. Ha, ha, ha! that will be the proper way to win the sweet revenge! hopes to ashes! ruin Re in return! 3 Here: is defeat to my. Fie, Ha, ha! revenge is sweet, and it shall be mine.” He sat for some time in a deep spell of study. Then'he arose and staggered out onto a balcony. Steps’ lea down to the lawn, and he went down them, and walked Sata oe the shrubbry. A-summer house was near, and he entered it, He was still buried in thought, and this was quite likely why he did not hear a footstep in his rear. A heavy hand was: laid upon his shoulder; he sun in- stantly. ‘ Ff. “Bud Ross!” he skelakmed: and all the color left his face. _ The villainous incendiary, the revengeful ‘Corsican, and the man he dréaded, stood before him. CHAPTER XX. : A RASCALLY CONFAB. j ! without deigning to speak. It was a tableau. | Gradually a glitter of deadly hatred and vengefulness began to emanate from the inflamed eyes of Royal Bent. had executed upon him a vow of vengeance, had fired the mills, | nature. associate in crime. and pleasantry. gree of friendliness. ; “Give us your hand, pardner. makes me think of old times.” But Bent recoiled as if from a serpent. savagely as he exclaimed: “What! Dare you ask me to shake hands sid ce you?” Ross affected surprise. “What's wrong, pard?” he cried.. “We used to be friends. fe “Used to be,” sneered Bent. “ That is well said.” y pias “Come, Royal ” said Ross, with a suit which irritated Mighty glad to see ye: to wor at cross purposes. rl hive, you for your une fair treatment of me i Pap he you ‘ll forgive me.” ‘ A hiss like the sdeeniae of a serpent peceied * Ben xo dak of vrata 4 Be ‘aig ae Reduce his — He remembered in that moment that Ross was the man who ,and reduced him to his present straightened circumstances. } This was quite sufficient to arouse all the’ rancor of Bent’s He had no pleasant greeting for ‘his former pal and a To the contrary Ross was the SERN TE Pa of politeness — He smiled and extended his hand with a de- Tt His eyes glittered — y For a moment the two arch villains stood facing each other
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v: “ greatest wrong of my life! - refuse to pay me for it?” 24 STILL ALARM - SAM. — out of pure spite, and tried to ruin me!” “Basy,” rejoined Ross. “You must not forget your treatment of me.” ; a “T treated you well.” “T should like to differ with you.” “Well, in what manner did I ill-treat you?” “Did I not place this fortune|in your way, and did you not “No. ” “What?” “T offered to pay you well, .and Laas more than was your , Share.” The two villains glared at each other. “T will admit,” said Ross, “that I have been sorry since that I did not take your settlement.” “Tt is too late to be sorry now,” sneered Bent. “T also regret any misunderstanding between us. hurt us both,” “T thought you had gone abroad. What are you doing here?” “Abroad?” ejaculated Ross. “How on earth could I go abroad without money? I was penniless when I left here.” “There was no need of that.” 4 “T admit it. Hang it, man, be reasonable. I have made con- ‘ciliatory advances and you ought to do the same.” “Conciliation is not in my disposition,” said Bent, savagely. “You went back on me, Bud Ross, and 1 shall never forgive you. I hate you with all my soul.” Bent spoke with force, and vindictively. laughed. “That’s all right, Royal,” he said, coolly. “You'll soon cool down. In fact, I propose to show to you that it is to your in- terest to make up with me.” The sang-froid of the senior ees staggered Bent. For-the ‘moment he was silent. “T must say, Budd Ross,” he said, coolly, “that you have got the steadiest'nerve and the greatest’ amount of assurance of any man I ever knew.” “T am proud of those attributes.” declared the villain, with a smile. “You ought to be.” “But enough. We are wasting time, to make terms with me?” “What are your terms?” “We will resume partnership.” “That is well, after my former experience with you, ” sneered Bent. “I prefer a partner I can trust.” “Oh, you have rode the high horse long enough, Royal, “3 cried Ross, impatiently. “I can tell you that nobody knows your circumstances better than I do.” “Is that so?” °, + “It is just so. I know that you are a bankrupt, that in less than six months you'll be in the gutter, so to speak. You ‘will be glad enough of my friendship.” -“To whom do I owe my misfortune?” asked Bent. ‘ “Well, allow that I am responsible for it. Stop and think. It has But Ross only ‘Do you propose “Isn't it evidence enough of my good will that I should offer 0 stand in with you and help you out of the hole?” “In what manner do you propose to do that?” “Well, we will see in course of time. 1 hear that your rival _ and enemy, the young fireman, Sam Weldon, has come into a fortune.” : Ross spoke with significance which did we escane Bent. The Jatter’s face brightened. In that instant he saw the unques- jonable policy of effecting a reconciliation. o ‘There was no doubt but that Ross would be the best aily ‘he could have in his new machinations against Sam Weldon. | ‘ Royal Bent was a deep and crafty villain. Where personal se vere to be eubeerne he could easily Be: counted er ae You, who set fire to my mills, agely. ‘a forced marriage, and you must help me. ‘prize well worth the abies gs dy ited But Budd Ross was an equally deep schemer.. He saw at once that he had clinched the nail, and took advantage of his point quickly enough. “Yes,” replied Bent, guardedly. “He has inherited a for- tune.” “A pretty large one, too.” “He says a million and a half.” “I don’t doubt it. I have also heard that he meditates emulating Morton Sinelair and building new mills in Norton.” “That is true.” The two villains gazed at each other. “Well, what do you think of it?” asked Ross, coolly. “Have you any vendetta?” “T have a powerful motive for revenge,” declared Bent, sav- “And I mean to gratify it. Let the young fool rebuild the mills, if he dares ‘do it.” or A sardonic smile wreathed Ross’ lips. , “IT understand,” he said, coclly. “Well, I am with you, Royal. We will work together, eh?” — Bent turned with a sudden impulse. “Do you mean business) Budd Ross?” “Of course I do.” y “And we will agree to stick together through eee a and oa thin?” / “Yes.” “And this time it will be understood that we mnitianiye | agree to divide the spoils?” t “Now you are talking business!” cried. Ross, triumphantly. - “We will succeed,” “But have you any plan whereby we can trick that pi. eub out of his rich inheritance?” “Not just at present. But we shall find one.” Meanwhile we must spoil his little game of re-establishing the mills.” _ Bigs “That is the idea!” cried Bent, with fiendish delight, Ross,” ‘ bygones are bygones. “4 us “Yes.” “And from this moment we are partners forever.” “T agree to it.” By hook or by crook we'll down that It shall.’ “That settles it. young fireman and get his little million and a half, be ours. Let us get to work at once.” “Wait a moment,” said Ross. “What have you done wath Ya that girl?” i “You mean Agnes Bates?” “Vos, ” “She is in my power, and, at this moment, in- this: very house. By the way, Ross, I want!your help. I want to have See?” ete Ross shrugged his shoulders. But Bent clutched. his arm cand ; J eried: “Come with me and we will g0 in and see her. Shp tea eae a oe } CHAPTER XXL. THE GIRL caprive. oy Ross was secretly averse to any scheme which iets a woman. Upon this ‘point he was slightly superstitious. | hy “T never saw any luck in it yet.” he once declared. there’s anything in the world prings aman to erichs you'll find there’s a woman at the bottom of it. a But. under the circumstances he could not pethes: Bent's quests. Therefore he reluctantly followed thinag) saints It was a singular thing that Sam Weldon in Be aisguts a ‘a servant had been for some days in this house, bi ain to. discover any ‘Ws of the c pti
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es That she was confined in Bent’s house was a arias fact. STILE: ALARM “SAM Y=...) ; ' Shall have the luxuries of a queen. This house shall be yours © But surely a cleverer place of concealment was never devised ' if you will only promise to marry me.”, by human mind. There was a pause. For a moment cites was silent, oe Bent led the way to an upper story. There was a deserted | she made reply: wing to the house, and into this he led his companion. Ross followed slowly, and as they entered a narrow corridor Bent suddenly touched a secret knob. There was a slight jog in the wall here, and, to Ross’ surprise, the entire section swung outward, leaving a wide doorway or entrance to a chamber, the existence of which would have escaped the obser- vation of the most thorough searcher. Sam had examined carefully every chamber in this wing while in his capacity as butler, but had failed to find any indi- . ations of the presence of a secret chamber here. j : As the section of the wall swung back, Bud Ross saw a medium-sized chamber, well furnished. A lamp burned upon a small center table, and illumined the place. A small fire blazed upon+«a hearth. Before this in an easy chair, sat a young girl, with pallid, but beautiful features. ‘It was Agnes Bates. The two villains entered the secret chamber, and Bent, touching a spring, the wall slid back into place. At their entrance Agnes, with flashing eyes, sprang to her feet. She had been many weeks a prisoner here, and her captivity had worn much upon her physical being. She was extremely pale and thin, Ross glanced at her covertly, and then averted his face. “By Jupiter!” he exclaimed. “Is this one of your inven- tions, Royal? It makes a man think of olden times and fairy tales.” f * “Tt is Bud!” cried Bent, in a self-satisfied manner. “Oh, » 1 tell you, I’m a shrewd schemer. Detectives have ransacked this house without discovering this secret.” “Well, it beats:‘me,” muttered the senior villain. Agnes had retreated to the furthest end of the room. Bent advanced toward her with a sycophant smile. Rubbing his hands he bowed and scraped with mock civility. “Well, my lady,” he exclaimed, in a mocking voice. - hope we find you in good spirits to-day.” “ey _ Agnes did not reply. : + “Ah, dumb as usual, eh?” continued the villain. “Well, I ghall take that as a good sign. I have no doubt you will soon come to my terms.” “Sir!” said Agnes, with spirit. “If there is such a thing as a spark of manhood in your composition, you will set me at liberty without delay.” Ross gave a start, and glanced keenly at the young girl villain could not help but admire her brave spirit.’ But -Bent’s face clouded. “fir defiant as usual,” he gritted. soon tame you, my fine Wea: Of course you realize how utter- ly you are in my power.” “T realize that you are the prince of scoundrels,” retorted Agnes, The “Easy! Don’t insult me.” “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Ross. “She is more ee a match for you, Royal. She is a little tigress. a “All right,” said Bent, savagely. “She shall tremble before I am done with her. I want an answer from you, my lady. “Are you going to yield te my terms or not?” Agnes’ eyes flashed. - “T will die first,” she replied. - “Now listen to reason,” said Bent, imploringly. “Don’t be _ foolish, Agnes. I love you, and so desperately that I, have dared everything, even your hatred, to win you.” f The: young Sune s Nee cals d fates ata “Very well, we will “T. have given you my answer; I will die first.” Bent’s eyes gleamed evilly. “You really mean that?” he asked. “Tido:” “Then listen. You scorn my love. I will tell you that I have sworn to make you mine, and mine you shall be. If you will not willingly wed me you shall do it against your will.” : “You cannot force me to do that which I will not,” replied Agnes, firmly. “Do you think so?” gritted Bent. “We shall'see, To-mor- row at this hour I shall be here with a minister of the gospel. You shall marry me even against your will.” “Ah, no minister of the gospel will consent to make such a marriage,” cried Agnes, triumphantly. “There is one who is in my power, and will not dare ae re- fuse.” ent turned and touched the secret knob. The section of wall again opened and he passed out with Ross. But he paused in the entrance way to say: “You see, ma cherre, how useless it is for you to rebel. I am master, and you are to choose whether you will become slave or queen. Au revoir.” The section of the wall slid into place. down the stairs and into the library. “Well,” he said, turning to Ross, her?” “She is very pretty,” replied the senior villain, languidly. “But females are dangerous as dynamite. Hxcuse me.” “Ordinarily I would agree with you,” said Bent. “But this girl has maddened me with her beauty.” He went to a sideboard and took down some bottles of wine. The day had waned and darkness was coming on. “Of course you'll be my guest for a time,” said Bent, cor- dially, as he filled a glass. “Make yourself at home, Bud. Here’s to good luck.” Ross needed no second bidding. And thus together, over the wine bottles, the two arch schemers sat up till far into the Bent led the way “what do you think of night, debating plans for the future, while the pall of a dark tragedy was enwrapping itself about them. CHAPTER XXII. THE YOUNG Ne hess Or NORTON, When Sam Weldon left Royal Bent’s house that ahlpaad ie with the bill of sale of the mill site in his possession, he was. in an extremely jubilant frame of mind. } ys ae The world never looked so bright and joyous to him before. Ms Life seemed well worth the living, and his bosom was igh ; with happy plans. Norton was the town of his adoption. ie had learned to — Jove its pretty streets, its charming location, and the people ‘ were of his kind. In one brief month he was to be transformed from. ‘the poor, penniless fireman of No. 6 to the magnate of the place. For to rebuild and own the once prosperous mills” Was: to wield the power of Norton. He would do it, Oi mele stan by Norton to the last. — } As he came to a street corner he met | a umber of the — business men of the place. ( ; They were’gathered in a knot, and as he. approached on f them, whom we will cal Mr, Woods, addresse ah
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2 Mean _ proud to welcome you,” STILL “Sam Weldon, you are just the man we want to see.” “Indeed!” smile, “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” “This is Mr. Bates and Mr. Ward,” said the merchant. by ; way of introduction. “Now,Sam, we have been discussing the state of affairs in Norton.” “Indeed!” said Sam quietly. “Of course you cannot be blind to the fact that Norton: is sliding down hill pretty fast. If matters keep on as they have we will soon be obliged to record a great many failures.” “Tam aware of that,” replied Sam.. “It is most deplorable.” i “Of course you as well as the rest of us know the’ cause of all this financial depression.” ‘\ “I think I do.” “The loss of the mills has ‘ight proved the ruin of Norton.” “That is surely so.” “Now, a committee has waited on. Mr. Bent, and we are ~well satisfied that he does not mean to rebuild the mills; in fact, that he has no intention at all in common with Norton or its people.” “T think you are right,” replied Sam. “In this case we now find that a desperate move is necessary -to be made. We have held a council to decide upon some wise move. Don’t you want to become one of us?” “T shall be most happy,” replied Sam. “Good! You will never be sorry.” “What is the result of your consultation?” asked the young fireman. “What do you think is best to be done?” “Well,” replied Merchant Woods. slowly, “the one remedy “we have hit upon is to rebuild the Sinclair Mills.” “That is a sure remedy,” agreed Sam. “But we have encountered difficulties. The principal. one is lack of funds. Of course we are business men, but the most of us have our capital invested in our stock in trade. Yet we propose to organize a stock company, duly incor- porate it, and sell the shares. In this way we hope to raise enough ready money to at least partially rebuild and set the - business going once more. “Sam experienced strange sensations. He gazed at the anxious, earnest men before him. They were all reputable men of family, with their worldly goods all wholly identi- | fied with Norton. If the town went down it meant ruin to them. _ Sam’s sympathetic nature was touched. He was proud to be one of these conscientious, honorable men of business, the }, bone of the country, the sinew of its honor and progress. “Gentlemen,” he said, with feeling, “your plan reflects credit upon you.” “A gratified flush mantled the face of Merchant Woods. “We felt sure, thatyyou were with, us, Sam, and we are he declared. “Of course you will sybscribe for some of our stock?” \ “T will do all in my power,” said the young fireman, evasive- ly. “But, gentlemen, it is but a step to the ruined site of the mills. Let us go down there and discuss the plan more fully.” The others readily acquiesced. With brightened faces they accompanied Sam through eeyeral side streets to the river- ; ea , ' Here the ruins of the deplorable fire were visible, Sam mounted a pile of bricks and swept the place with a - comprehensive glance. “These were large mills. It is a pity they were destroyed. it will Tegmire an immense capital to rebuild them.” The others’ were silent. ; “Again, the purchase price of the site itself would be twenty thousand dollars or more. How much would it cost to put the 3 mills with the ig deie aed back to a where bap were be- fore?” >: ALARM SAM. ell, 2 * said Mr. Pens a | shrewd mathematican, “y should? <UODGERR TT | say that half a million dollars, at least, would be required exclaimed the young. fireman, with a pleasant to do it in shape.” “Half a million dollars?” Silence reigned for a moment. “That is a great deal of money.” i “It can never be raised in Norton,” declared My. Woods, with a sigh. “ Not one fourth of that sum.” “Do you mean that?” asked Sam. “I think I am right.” : “Then how do you expect to rebuild the mills?”: “Ah,” replied the merchant, “my plan was. to raise fifty thousand dollars on the stock ‘and build a small part of the original mill; as the business | increased, enleee the capacity until the. original site is covered.” E “That plan is all right,” agreed Sam. “But do you knew. how long it would take to do that?” ; ¥: “A good while.” “It would never be done in our day.” “Well,” said the merchant, desperately, “something has s ; be done. That move is better than nothing.” “Admitted,” said Sam. “But did you stop to think dune Mr. Royal Bent is opposed to the rebuilding of the mills, and might refuse to sell the site?” ’ : f “He ought to give it,” exploded Bates. _ t “Very true; but that would not be characteristic of him. Now, gentleman, we have considered the serious obstacles of this matter. Would you not rather see a single man with: ‘the - necessary capital sten, up and shoulder the FOR of rebuilding the mills?” “Certainly,” they chorused; man?” “Right here,” replied Sam, firmly. : The merchants were stupefied. For a moment they- ted a at Sam blankly: then Woods said: “Do you mean that, Sam Weldon?” bi, “Every word of it,”” replied Sam, firmly. “Within one year — T shall have the Sinclair Mills running again full blast. If it & takes a million dollars in cash to do it, they shall be put back right where sé were.” “but where .can we find sea a s ” began Woods. . y, “Is mine,” declared Sam, firmly. “y have the receipt of Mr. Royal Bent for thirty thousand dollars for the same. I own: the site of the Sinclair Mills.” The three merchants were not only overjoyed but astounded - ‘at this wonderful bit of good news. _ Woods took off his hat with a cheer. eo “Hurrah for the boy fireman!” he cried. “The new magnate — i of Norton. Sam Weldon, you are- a noble fellow. Norton ae proud of you.” P They would have embraced Sam in the exuberance of their < joy, but at that moment a startling thing happened. a There broke upon the air a thrilling sound. Tt sent the blood coursing through Sam’s veins. 4 Clang! Glang! Clang! ; Cueate . “ Fire! ” In an instant off went Sam’s coat and he pulled up ‘ie fe sleeves. tk 2 “what are you going to do?” cried: Woods, in surprise. é “Where are you going?” eee “To the fire, mi ‘replied Sam. “But surely you will give up your autiod as fireman now * that you are a millionaire?” “Gentlemen, ay eegees he brave boy Fd pani in a rinj je ay forget that it is my sacred aie am still, on duty, and I shall always bes
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STILL spite of the distance, he was one of the first at the engine house of No. 6. ALARM: SAM. ois caree “All right,” he flashed forth. never be a pal of yours. You're too meddlesome. “Then the bargain’s off. It’s none of The boys gave a wild cheer as they saw théir young chief | your business what I do in my own house.” once more with them. All in an instant the wind had changed. Once more, in the — All seized hold of the line, and soon the Ree ie was in the | turning of a hand, the two villains were deadly foes. Hach dis- street, and all were madly racing to the scene of the fire. trusted and feared the other. This was not conducive to ad- Sam Weldon was once more the hero of the flames, the pet | vantageous co-operation. Ross was white with rage. of a cheering crowd, the braye young fireman, Wealth un- counted could never affect his sense of duty or impulse of honor and noble sacrifice. CHAPTER XXIII. A DARK ‘TRAGEDY. Over the wine bottles Bud Ross and Royal Bent chatted until a late hour at the latter’s house. Their discussion touched upon many topics of interest to them. In the ardor of their fresh affiliation they were exceed- ingly confidential and warm. Schemes galore were discussed as to the feasibility of eftect- ing the downfall of Sam Weldon. Time passed rapidly, and the little Swiss clock on the man- tel marked the hour of eleven. Ross chanced to glance at it. when Bud cried: “Oh, you needn’t think of leaving, Bud. You're my guest for the night. There’s no leaving until morning.” “Hasy, pard, ” replied the Corsican, refilling his wine glass. “How do’ you suppose I’m going to leave with such fine old Madeira to hold me here. about that at all.” } ~That’s where you’re wise,” agreed Bent. and drink deep,” “That I will, and to your health.” The Corsican drained the glass, and then, sinking back in his chair, continued: E “Well, Royal, the only criticism I can make on the way you have managed affairs regards the girl you have in this house as a prisoner.” _ “Indeed,” said Bent, with a start. of the idea?” “I must say that I don’t.” “Well, that, of course is my affair. I prefer to carry on - my little intrigue, and so long as it does ates expose you to any : risk, you cannot find fault.” “J don’t know about that. risk.” ; >. “In what way?” Why, the girl’s friends are looking for her.. 1 watch the house. At any moment they may spot me ER pe Tay me to the police.” “Help yourself “You don’t think much sf Pshaw! That is nonsense.” “Don’t tell me that,” said Ross, teatily, rf talking about.” ; -. His tone was irritable and rude. Bent’s face flushed angrily. : Both had indulged in just enough of the liquor to make them ugly. en ‘ ay don’t think you do, ” said Bent, angrily. “T know what I’ “You forget id yourself, Bud. The girl aftair is my business, and you have no Bi. right to meddle. 7 ef. That is flat,” The Corsican’s eyes flashed in a lurid manner. his white teeth under his black mustache. | “go ho! That’s the way you Bre going to work it, eh?” he -gritted. be a pal of mine you can’t do reckless things, and it is a con- ‘founded foolish thing to keep that girl locked up nere.” Seager Bent. Her garded this as unl weol interfer- | He showed }. Don’t give yourself any uneasiness } “Well, I can just tell you that if you are going to \ -“Well, you will break off with me if you don’t agree to give that girl up, and have some head about you,” he declared. “T’ll never do that,” retorted Bent. “You won’t?” SO” “That settles it. I wash my hands of you. We're quits.” “T’m satisfied.” ‘ “Ye’re just what I thought ye were, a.lying, sneaking cow- ard,” gritted the Corsican, whose temper was inflamed by li- quor. te ap ; Bent was equally as ugly. He reeled around the end of the table and thrust his fist.into Ross’ face. “Curse ye. Don’t ye dare to tell me that again. I’ kill ye.” “You're a liar and a coward!” “Take that back!” “Never!” “Take that, then!” Bent made a savage blow at Rake It drew blood upon the Corsican’s cheek, Both men were maudlin drunk, but they closed in a clumsy struggle. The fought madly, biting, clawing and striking at each other, So drunk were they that first one was down and then the other. In this manner they struggled until a catastrophe occurred, In reeling about the room the table was overturned, and an oil lamp upon it fell with a crash upon the carpet. The oil spread over the fabric ignited instantly. The two men, maudlin drunk, in their struggles did not notice this, and at that moment Ross; smarting with a blow in the face, drew a dangerous knife and struck Bent. — ‘A fearful cry went up from the villain, The knife had fell - athwart the jugular vein and it was completely severed. The blood gushed from the wound in torrents and Bent sank faint- — ing to the floor.’ Ross, reeling back, yelled fiercely. “There, curse ye! That’s the time we squared accounts! I’ve killed ye. and it’s good enough for ye.” Royal Bent did not answer. Thastamp of death was sie upon his face. He lay gasping upon the floor in the ate ‘of an awful death. I think it does expose me to. At that instant Ross caught sight of the flames mounting upward from the burning Leg ot The Hight partly sobered him, | and he shrieked: 2 They suspect | “Wire! Fire! Confound that wine. I’ve got my Henn in rf trap now. What shall I do? If they come here and find that I’ve killed Bent they'll hang me. I must skip this place.” _| In a hunted manner he glared about him. His gaze rested m | upon a door, i | But before he reached it he eaught his foot in a rug and fell | “Ie and he started for it. forward. The fumes of the liquor had muddled his brain 80 that he was unable to save himself. He fell heavily and struck his head against the door frame, It, was a fearful blow, and deprived him of his Senses, ; The sounds of the fracas had drawn the servants to the door. | One of these now opened the door and saw the dead form of “Royal Bent, and the flames gaining terrific headway. igus _ With a shriek of terror the servants fled from ute spot. The’ ‘alarm of fire was instantly given. _ Hx Upon the midnight air peeled forth the dread clangor of the fire alarm bell. It was heard and answered. a The world outside little dreamed of the fearful tragedy ane acted in Bent’s house that fateful night. ‘The Titans man- 1 sion was to be. his funeral ‘pyre. Me
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aaa ‘can’t find strength enough to get whe stairs. a are ye?” . STILE ca) ie) CHAPTER XXIV. SAVED FROM THE FLAMES—THE END. It was not long before Still-Alarm Sam saw the blaze of the conflagration reflected against the sky. Soon they were ! upon the spot. A tenement house it was which was all ablaze. For a time it was lively work getting a stream upon the flames, but suc- cess finally rewarded the firemen’s efforts, Like beavers they worked to get the fire under control. Sam distinguished himself in many ways ‘and was the hero of the hour. For hours the battle went on. But in the course of time the last ember was quenched and the building was considered safe to leave. This was near midnight. Jaded and smoke-begrimed the fire boys limbered up their machines and started for home. But they had hardly left the scene when a apap sound rang out again upon the air. Clang! Clang! Clang! “Fire!” The startled firemen listened for the number of the box; it came at last. After the hard battle of hours, duty again made an inexorable call woon them. _ But they were loyal to a man; duty called, and it was not refused. Sam Weldon infused new life into the tired fire boys when he seized hold of the rope, and cried: “Come on, boys of No. 6! We’re sure to be on hand!” - A wild cheer burst from their lips, and away they went, up one street and down another. Now they were in sight of the fire. : A gasping ery escaped Sam’s lips. “My God! It’s Royal Bent’s house! ” Smoke and flames were pouring from the windows, and it was evident that the house was doomed. As the fire boys were getting a stream upon the flames, Sam felt a touch upon his arm. One of the servants, white-faced, stood before him. “Oh; sir, if ye plaze, the masther is in that house. ’av’ hurt himself, and can’t get out.” A curious and thrilling sensation seized Sam’ Weldon. For a moment he philosophized that the world would be better off rid of the villain. He guessed the truth that the villain was maudlin drunk. Then his better sense of justice and mercy asserted itself, and ‘he determined to, if possible, rescue the erring wretch. — “Bring up the ladders!” he cried. “Lively, there!” The high front stoop had collapsed, and the only way to He must fi "enter the house was through a window in the second story. The ladder was placed against the window ledge and Sam went up it like a monkey. ible plunged fearlessly into the burning house. a room with a door opening into a main corridor. He was in Along this he ran, and, descending the stairs, ater dha over an object on} : the hall floor. It moved, and an agonized voice cried: _ “Save the girl. It’s,a blasted shame to let her die! Bud Ross is bad enough, but*he can’t see that gal burned up alive. Sam ‘Weldon was petrified with Mick astonishment. He Se flashed the light of a lantern in the prostrate man’s face. 2 “Bud Ross! » he cried; “you here?” : villain gave a ates? ery. | lirious with joy, had his beloved daughter in his arms. | none to regret their fate. tle ihe Honor and eal as well as great popula Hey! Who] ALARM . SAM. “The. girl!” gasped Sam. “What girl? Where is she?” “Why, the Bates gal. The one that shallow-brained fool of a Bent was so infatuated with. She’s in the top story. Turn into the wing—-between two rooms! Cut your way in! Go!” | Still-Alarm Sam needed no further bidding. Ever after he . believed implicity that it was something more than an earthly power which led him directly to the spot. Into the wing he went, and began to cut his way through the partition between the two rooms there located. Suddenly his ax-blade struck a metallic object. There was a whirring sound and a section’of the partition swung back. The secret chamber was revealed. In its center stood a slight female figure. Sam rushed forward. “ “Agnes! God be praised!” *Sam! At last!” She was in his arms the next moment. But there was little time for explanations. Taking her light form up in his arms Sam fled along the corridor. ae It.was quick work for Sam to reach the ladder. He aeavena ed quickly to the street. The next moment Hiram Bates, de- — ati i was a happy reunion. 7 _ It was useless to try to save the mansion. Tt was consumed — like tinder. _A few hours later it was a heap of ruins. From the ashes the charred bodies of Bent and Ross were taken. They had — expatiated. their crimes, and with their tragic removal the at-. mosphere of Norton was cleared of a dark cloud, which had threatened the ruin of the beautiful little city. There were Such is ever the fit end of villainy — and duplicity. : hea. i With the removal of the disturbing element, Norton “once. more obtained a new lease of life. The deadly incendiaries. were remoyediforever, and the rebuilding of the Sinclair Mills gave a fresh impetus to the town. _T0-day Norton is a flourishing city, and in all ‘the: country | there is no more popular nor happy man than Mr. Samuel | Weldon, the handsome millionaire mill ORES public benefac- 5 tor and philanthropist. vat A beautiful residence stands in a pretty part of the city , It is the happy home of Mr. and Mrs. Sam Weldon, for Agnes Bates becaine the happy wife of Nae young hero of Hook and Ladder No. 6. The love of a fireman’s duties will never desert Stitl-Alarm ty Sam. To this day the clang of the fire bells thrills his. veins and he often joins the fire nory in the ae bicies B with the flames. ae The fire department of Norton is sites its pre, ‘and stil upon the boy fireman, though he is now a millionaire, oF: having arrived at this propitious point in our hero's career, ; there is no more ‘fitting time to write aa Exp] Ak
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99 SECRET SERVICE OLD AND YOUNG KING BRADY, DETECTIVES. PRICE 5 CTS. 32 PAGES. COLORED COVERS. ISSUED WEEKLY LATEST ISSUES: The Bradys in a Trap; or, Working Against a Hard Gang. Over the Line; or, The Bradys’ Chase Through Canada. ‘The Bradys in Society; or, The Case of Mr. Barlow. The ne ais Slums; or, Trapping the Crooks of the “Red Light District.” Found in the River;-or, The Bradys and the Brooklyn Bridge Mystery. See and the Missing Box; or, Running Down the Railroad Thieves. : 3 The Queen of Chinatown; or, The Bradys Among the “Hop” Fiends. cones radys and the Girl Smuggler; or, Working for the Custom ouse, peeeeeues and the Runaway Boys; or, Shadowing the Circus arps. gah The Bradys ad the Ghosts; or, Solving the Mystery of the Old Church Yard. The Bradys and the Brokers; or, A Desperate Game In Wall Street. The Bradys’ Fight to a Winish; or, Winning a Desperate Case. The Bradys’ Race for Life; or, Rounding Up a Tough Trio. The Bradys’ Last Chance; or, ‘The Case in the Dark. The Bradys on the Road; or, The Strange Case of a Drummer. _ The Girl in Black; or, The Bradys Trapping a Confidence Queen. | The Bradys in Mulberry Bend; or, The Boy Slaves of “Little Italy. The Bradys’ Battle for Life; or, The Keen Detectives’ Greatest Peri ril. The Bradys and the Mad Doctor; or, The Haunted Mill in the Marsh. The Bradys on the Rail; or, A Mystery of the Lightning Express. The Bradys and the Spy; or, Working Against the Police Depart- ment. The Bradys’ Deep Deal; or, Hand-in-Glove with Crime. The Bradys in a Snare; or, The Worst Case of All. The Bradys Beyond Their Depth; or, The Great Swamp Mystery. The Bradys’ Hopeless Case; or, Against Plain Bvidence. The Bradys at the Helm; or, the Mystery of the River Steamer. The Bradys in Washington; or, Working for the President. The Bradys Duped.; or, The Cunning Work of Clever Crooks. 100 The Bradys in Maine; or, Solying the Great Camp Mystery. qe The Bradys Under Wire; or, Tracking a Gan i 124 9 The Bradys and the The Bradys on the Great Lakes; or, Tracking the Canada Gang. The Bradys in Montana; or, The Great Copper Mine Case. The Bradys Hemmed In; or, ‘heir Case in Arizona. The Bradys at Sea; or, A Hot Chase Over the Ocean. The Girl from London; or, The Bradys After a Confidence Queen, The Bradys Among the Chinamen; or, The Yellow Fiends of the ~ Opium Joints. j The Bradys and the Pretty Shop Girl; or, The Grand Street Mystery. The Bradys and the Gypsies; or, Chasing the Child Stealers. Mistake The Pradys Petrayed; or, In the Hands of a Traitor. The Bradys and Their Doubles; or, A Strange Tangle of Crime. 4 ene ereeKe in the Hverglades; or, The Strange Case of a Summer ourist. The Bradys Defied; or, The Hardest Gang in New York. The Bradys in High Life; or, The Great Soctety Mystery. The Bradys einene Thieves; or, Hot Work in the Bowery. The Bradys and the Sharpers; or, In Darkest New York. The Bradys and the Bandits; or, Hunting for a Lost Boy. The Bradys in Central Park; or, The Mystery of the Mall. The Bradys on their Muscle; or, Shadowing the Red Hook Gang. The Bradys’ Opium Joint Case; or, Hxposing the Chinese Crooks. “The Bradys’ Girl Decoy ; or, Rounding Up the ont Crooks. (5) utlaws. The Bradys at the Beach; or, The Mystery of the Bath House. 7g Pe! and the Lost Gold Mine; or, Hot Work Among the ‘owboys. . Phe Bradys and the Missing Girl: or, A Clew Found in the Dark. The Bradys and the Banker; or, The Mystery of a Treasure Vault. ‘ ee Bradys and the Boy Acrobat; or, Tracing up a Theatrical ase. » : Yrong Man; or, The Story of a Strange 173 1 ‘The Bradys and the Mail Thieves; or, The Man in the The Bradys The Bradys The Bradys. Frontier. The Bradys Tamers. The Bradys The Bradys The Bradys The Bradys Package. The Bradys The Bradys » Wiends. The Bradys and the Counterfeiters; or, Wild Adventures in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The Bradys in the Dens of New York; or, Working on the John Street Mystery. : The Bradys and the Rail Road Thieves; or, The Mystery of the Midnight Train. at ges eee the Pickpockets; or, Keen Work in the Shop- pin istrict. r The Bradys and the Broker; or, The Plot to Steal a Fortune. The Bradys as Reporters; or, Working for a Newspaper, The Bradys and the Lost Ranche; or, The piranie ase in Texas. The Bradys and the Signal Boy; or, the Great Train Robbery. The Base and Bunco (Bill; or, The Cleverest Crook in New ork, and Bad Man Smith; or, The Sone of Black Bar. and the Veiled Girl; or, Piping the Tombs Mystery. and the Deadshot Gang; or, Lively Work on the with a Circus; or, On the Road with the Wild Beast in De ORE or, Tracking the Mountain Men. at Coney Island; or, eg the Sea-sideCrooks, and the Road: Agents; or, The Great Deadwood Case. and the Bank Clerk; or, Tracing a Lost Money on the Race Track; or, Beating the Sharpers. in the Chinese Quarter; or, The Queen of the Opium The Bradys and, the Female Detective; or, Leagued with the Customs Inspectors. ; ne eae and the Bank Mystery; or, The Search for a Stolen } on, The Bradys at Cripple Creek; or, Knocking out_the “Bad Men.” The Bradys and the Harbor Gang; or, Sharp Work after Dark. The Bradys in Five Points; or, The Skeleton in the Cellar, Fan Toy, the Opium Queen; or, The Bradys and the Chinese Smugglers. The Bradys’ Roy Pupil; or, Sifting Strange Evidence. The Bradys in the Jaws of Death; or, Trapping the Wire Tap- pers. 5 The Bradys and the Typewriter; or, The Office Boy’s Secret. bre ee and the Bandit King; or, Chasing the Mountain eves, ; The Bradys and the Drug Slaves; or, The Yellow Demons of Chinatown. n ee peeare and the Anarchist Queen; or, Running Down the “Reds.”” H q The Bradys and the Hotel Crooks; or, The Myster. of Room 44. eas Bradys and the Wharf Rats; or, Lively Work in the Har- or, Sa rears, and the House of Mystery; or, A Dark Night's iS T ork. The Bradys’ Winning Game; or, Playing Against the eee The Bradys and the Boatmen; or, The Clew Found in the River. The Bradys after the Grafters; or, The Mystery In the Cab. The Bradys and the Cross-Roads Gang; or, Missouri. \ bay Bradys and Miss Brown; or, The Mysterious Case in So- ciety. % : The Bradys and the Factory Girl; or, The Secret of the Poisoned Wnvelope. * The Bradgd and Blonde Bill; or, The Diamond Thieves of Maiden Lane. ‘ j . The Bradys and the Opium Ring; or, ‘The Clew in Chinatown. The Bradya on the Grand Cireuit; or, Tracking the Light- Harness Gang. f The Bradys aud ‘the Black Doctor; or, The Secret of the Old Vault The Bradys and the Girl in Grey; or. The Queen of the Crooks. The Bradys and the Juggler; or, Out with a Variety Show. — For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price, 5 cents per copy, by <SRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York. ++. Copies : ée FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union . | : Dear Sir—Enclosed find. ....cents for which please send me: IF YOU WANT ANY BACK our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fill a NUMBERS 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 re. OAD ES Sees oe5\6 Oe 6) Gi ajel eaie 4 of WORK AND WIN, Nos....... « PLUCK AND iTUG Re su, ‘ + ky “ Books, Ness BO ha ++... Street an « Moen-Cent Hand se eee ee Square, New York, Pe ee ee Se ee Oe Cn ee ee ia te PED LIBERDW BON SOE ib Nis ria) ess, eal Oat yes et POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY, ole eee Pie © 0 ee ese © 66 6 wee ols bs ols w doe Riera Meni eev acne POU tf / tere eee ee Cee eer we ae ele ses a Ae Saree Uae a: 3 what weeley we Hoe eee ale wee eu ees \ « GRORBT SERVIOR foc sig ets sana kde cam! , i i " Pelee eee eee see eee i ee ac ee eae tne Great Case in
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Tsated Weekly—-By Subscription $2.50 per year.’ Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York Post Office, December 8, 1898, by Frank Tousey. No. 177. NEW YORK, APRIL 25, 1902. Price % Cents. IED PEARNOT'S WONDERFUL FEAT OR,THE TAMING OF BLACK BEAUTY... '-A) jy Gy lhe Senay, \\"\ LS, % Co Te ee - rn lee ORAM A babes AY, Cow ne
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Tare sk ewe ORK AND WIN, The Best Weekly Published. ALL THE NUMBERS ARE ALWAYS IN PRINT. READ ONE AND YOU WILL READ THEM ALL. ryan ~ . 125 Fred Fearnot Cornered; or, Hyelyn and the Widow. LATEST ISSUES: ay Fred Fearnot’s Daring Scheme; or, Ten Days in an Insane Asylum. 58 Fred Pearnot’s Revenge; or, Defeating a Congressman. 127 Fred. Pearnot’s Honor; or, Backing oP His Word. 59 Fred Fearnot's Trap; or, Catching the Drain Robbers. ‘1128 Fred Fearnot. and the Lawyer; or, Young Billy Dedham’s Cage. rearnot at Harvard; or, Winning the Games for Yale, 129 Fred Fearnot, at West Point; or, Having Fun with the Hazera. Fearnot’s Ruse; or, Lurning Tramp to Save a Fortune. 130 Fred Fearnot's Secret Society; or, The Knights of the Black Ring. Fearnot in Manila; or, Plotting torCatch Aguinaldo. 131 Fred Fearnot and the Gamibler; or, The Trouble on the Lake Fearnot and Oom Paul; or, Battling for the Boers., Front. Wearnot in Johannesburg; or, The Terrible Ride to Kimberley. | 439 red Fearnot’s Challenge; or, King of ‘the Diamond Field Wearnot. in Kaflir-land: or, Hunting for the Lost Diamond. 133 Fred Wearnot’s Great Game: or, The Hard Work That Won. Fearnot’s Lariat; or, ow He Caught His Man. . |134 Fred Fearnot in Atlanta; or, The Black Fiend of Darktown. Vearnot’s Wild West Show: or, The Biggest ‘Thing on Warth. | 435 Fred Fearnot’s Open Hand: or, How He Helped a Friend, — Yearnot’s Great Tour; or, Managing an Opera Queen. 120. Fred Feamnot in Debates or, The Warmest Member of the House. Fearnot’s Minstrels; or, Terry's Great Hit as an End Man. 187 Fred Fearnot’s Great Plea; or, His Defence of the ‘“Moneyless an.” Fearnot and the Duke; or, Baliling a Fortune Hunter. ‘earnot’s Day; or, ‘The Great Reuni - Avon. ; d aaron tn the South : sire BE a aT Bia 138 Fred Fearnot at Princeton ; ot The Batttle of the Champions. Fearnot's Museum; or, Backing Knowledge with Kun. 139 Fred Pearnot's Circus; or, High Old Time at New ra. Fearnot’s Athletic School; ox, Satins Brain and Brawn. 140 Fred Fearnot’s Camp Hunt; or, The White Deer of the Adiron- Fearnot Mystified: or, The Disappearance of Terry Olcott. dacks. ‘earn n > Governor: or, Working Hard to Save a Jife,|141 Fred Fearnot and His Guide; or, The Mystery of the Mountain. eta ag Rea iy Up autres Giatch, 5} 142 Bred Fearnot's County Fair; or, The Battle of the Fakirs. Fearnot in Vexas; or, Perrys Man from Abilene. 143 Fred Fearnot a Prisoner; or, Captured at Avon. Fearnot as a Sheriff: or, Breaking up a Desperate Gang. | 144 Fred Irearnot and the Senator; or, Breaking up a Scheme. Fearnot Batlied; or, Outwitted by a Woman, 145 red Pearnot and the Baron; or, by tg Seat a Nobleman. Wearnot’s Wit, and Mow It Saved His Life. 146 Fred Fearnot and the Brokers; or, Ten Days In Wall Street. Fearnot's Great Prize: or. Working Hard to Win: 147 Fred Fearnot's Little Scrap; or, The Fellow Who Wouldn’t Stay Fearnot at Bay; or, His Great ight for Life. Whipped. . : Fearnot's Disguise; or, Following a ia Clew. 148 Fred Fearnot’s Greatest Daffger; or, Ten Days with the Moon- Fearnot’s Moose’ Hunt; or, Adventures in the Maine Woods. shiners. : by f Vearnot’s Oratory: or, Mun at the Girls High School. 149 Fred Fearnot and the Kidnappers; or, Trailing a Stolen Child. Fearnot’s Big Heart; oy, Giving the Poor a Chance. 150 Fred Fearnot’s Quick Work; or, The Hold Up at Eagle Pass. Fearnot Accused; or, Tricked by a Villain, 151 Fred Fearnot at Silver Guleh; or, Defying a tase Fred Fearnot's Pluck; pr, wieoInE Against Odds, 152 Fred Fearnot on the Border; or, Punishing the: Mexican Horse Fred‘ Fearnot’s Deadly Peril; or, His Narrow Wscape from Ruin. Stealers. Fred Fearnot's Wild Ride; or, Saving Dick Duncan's life, 153 Fred Fearnot’s Charmed Life; or, Running the Gauntlet. ) Fred Fearnot’s Long Chase; or, Trailing a Cunning Villain, 154 Fred Fearnot Lost; or, Missing for Thirty Days. Pred Fearnot’s Last Shot. and How It Saved a Life. 155 Fred Fearnot'’s Rescue; or, The Mexican Pocahontas. " Fred Iearnot’s Common Sense; or, The Best Way Out of Trouble. | 156 Fred Fearnot andthe “White Caps”; or, A Queer Turning of Fred Fearnot’s Great Find; or, Saying Terry Olegtt’s Fortune the ‘Tables. Fred Fearnot and the Sultan: or, Adventures on the Island of Sulu.| 157 Fred Fearnot and the Medium; or, Having Fun with the Fred Fearnot’s Silvery Tongue; or, Winning an Angry Mob. | i “Spirits.” ‘ 8 Fred Fearnot's Strategy: or, Outwitting a Troublesome Couple. 158 Fred Fearnot and the “Mean Man’; or, The Worst He Hyver ya it eeboaal pe ees Oe Ss Heal BA cs eats Struck. i ) Fred Fearnot's Muscle; or, Holding His Own ‘aing ds, 5 : “4 i eens meee me sie or, pepene id oe ite Time, 160 Pred Teamron ised ae The Branasls Weaker rae “red Wearnot’s Puzzle; or, Worrying the Buneo Steerers. i 4 , snirit wih a ne ; Fred Fearnot and Hyelyn ? or, The Infatuated Rival. de he on some Opera ; or, The Fun that Raised the Fred Fearnot's Wager; or, Downing a Brutal Sport. fi Fred Fearnot at St. Simons: or, The Mystery of a Georgia Island. ao big a Ae eta eR a a aie a arg 06 Fred Fearnot Decetved ; or, After the Wrong Man. ; : : 7 Fred Wearnot's Charity: or, Teaching Others a Lesson. 163 Fred Fearnot's Lecture Tour; or, Going. it Alone. Fred Fearnot as “The Judge ;" or, Heading off the Lynchers. 164 Fred Fearnot's “New Wild West’; or, Astonishing the Old Bast. Fred Mearnot and the Clown; or, Saving the Old Man’s Place. 165 Pred: Rearnot in Russia; or,, Banished by the Czar. Fred learnot’s Fine Work; or, Up dantayt a Crank. Se 166 Fred Fearnot in ‘Turkey; or, Defying the Sultan. Fred Fearnot's Pad Break; or, What Happened to Jones. 367 Fred Fearnot in Vienna; or, The Trouble on the Danube. Fred Fearnot’s Round Up; or, A Lively Time on the Rancthe. 168 Fred Fearnot and the Kaiser; or, In the Royal Palace at Berlin. Fred Fearnot and the Giant; or, A Hot Time in Cheyenne. 169 Fred Fearnot in_Ireland; or, aaa eee by the Constabulary, Fred Mearnat's Cool Nerve; ot, Giving It. Straight to the Boys. 170 Prats Homeward Bound;’ or, Shadowed by Scotland _ g fearnot’s Way; or, Doing Upa Sharper. | ‘ ; Zz ried pip ey Ba or, The Tlacle as hand Game. 172 Fred Fearnot’s Justice; or, The Champion of the School Marm. Fred Fearnot as a “Broncho Buster ;” or, A Great Time in the] 4! ga and the Gypsies; or, The Mystery of a Stolen — ead Dearent and Fis Mascot; or, Evelyn’s Fearless Ride, 173 Fred Fearnot's Silent Hunt; or, Catching the “Green Goods” Fred Fearnot’s Strong Arm; or, The Bad Man of Arizona. ae os Fearnot as a ‘‘fenderfoot ;” or, Having Fun with the Cow- joys. ; ; i Fred Wearnot Captured; or, In the Hands of His Mnemies. Fred Pearnot: ethos Banker ; or, A Schemer’s Trap to Ruin Him. Fred Fearnot's Great Feat; or, Winning a Irortune on Skates. 4 Fred Fearnot's Iron Will; or, Standing Up for the Right. ‘ t For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price, 5 cents per copy, by /E22NK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York. IF You WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS Men... Fy p 174 Fred Fearnot's Big Day: or, Harvard and Yale at New Bra. 175 Fred Fearnot and “The Doctor’; or, The Indian Medicine Fakir. 176 Fred Fearnot and the Lynchers; or, Saving a Girl Horse Thief. 177 Fred Fearnot's Wonderful Feat; or, The Taming of Black Beauty. 178 Fred Fearnot'’s Great Struggle: or. Downing a Senator, TEENS — “lof our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be obtained ‘from this office direct. Cut out and fill jin 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 re. jtun mail, POSTAGE sTaMPsS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY, Sere aN ‘ ‘ Ra asa ieee’! (Coy oN” op ee eT PI re Ce ee ar FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York. se Mulolacdiel ta meeeMahanrENoiNenrane LOOE r Dpar Str—Enclosed find. ....cents for which please send me: 5 Ae a ies of WORK AND WIN, SINR sia bei ca. yA Pg Ota aca ts orm RR aVRENS AL OEY seasons ee a, sviao beatin 4-900 boo sa Aan ara ad ee PIUCR A ee Ones he onde a A eae see eeeree Piast kia. geo ike shisha ea Ree iG « SECRET SERVIOR « || o jek}: a hele .o eis! a ie 10s (eee «QS LEB BRP EON pe PG, Nag. Acs 0009s xe begielstles Re Walon Cae cee pee -« Pen-Cent Hand Books, af t OPES Oia ses d, v8 F eee pate whew eas. dena bk! we Reee elma e see ererons 30) a8 Laval piiey sabe e ty ote Town..........State SSIS Sa trek Md “oo a. lai dielaia olan ete mck coat eis Se 6.2.6 ee sie: iaisiie Mik Stee a @teibi ie\ ters
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‘THE JAMES BOYS WEEKLY CONTAINING STORIES OF ADVENTURE. These stories are written by the well-known and popular Au- thor D. W. Stevens, whose home in the West is in the immediate vicinity of the place where the James Boys met with the most of their daring adventures, and who is familiar with the incidents he so ably describes. Ask your newsdealer to save you a copy of THE JAMES BOYS WEEKLY every week. The James Boys; or, The Bandit King’s Last Shot. ; 87 The James Boys’ Band of Ten; or, The Red Light on the Bluff. 1 2 Chasing the James Boys; or, A Detective’s Dangerous Case. 88 The James Boys Jailed; or, Carl shakes the’ Detective’s Clever ' 8 The James Boys and Pinkerton; or, Frank and Jesse as Detectives. Capture. 4 The Man from Nowhere, and His Adventures with the James Boys.} 39-The James Boys in the Saddle; or, ‘The Highwayman and ‘the 5 Jesse James and Siroc; or, A Detective’s Chase for a Horse. Haunted Mill. 6 The James Boys in Texas; or, A Detective’s Thrilling Adventures | ‘40 The James Boys’ Mistake; or, Carl Green the Detective’s Clever | in the Lone’ Star State. Ruse. 7 Sam Sixkiller, the Cherokee Detective ; or, The James Boys’ Most | 41 The James Boys in a Trap; or, Carl Greene’s Neatest Trick. Dangerous Foe. 42 The James Boys in Arkansas; or, After Confederate Gold: 2 8 Old Saddle Bags, the Preacher Detective; or, The James Boys 43 The James Boys Knights of the Road; or, The Masked Men or j in a Fix. « “Missouri. 9 The Double Shadow; or, The James Boys Baffled. 44 Quantrell’s Old Guard; or, The James Boys in Missouri. 10 Jesse James’ Last Shot; or, Tracked by the Ford Boys. 45 The James Boys Island; or Routed by a Game Detective. he 11 The Last of the Band; or, The Surrender of Frank James. 46 The James Boys’ Longest Run}; or Chased a Thousand Miles. — 12 The James Boys Tricked; or, A Detective’s Cunning Game. 47 The James Boys’ Last Plight; or, Carl Greene’s Greatest Victory. — 13 Thirty Days with the James Boys; or, A Detective’s Wild Chase} 48 The James Boys’ Reckless Raid; or, Sheriff Timberlake's ae in Kentucky. Trap. a ee 14 The Masked Horseman; or, The Silent Rider of- the Border. 49 Jesse James Avenged ; or, The Death of Bob Ford, Bt; 15 Mysterious Ike; or, The Masked Unknown. 50 The James Boys’ Boldest Raid; or, Foiled by a Brave Detective. f 16 The James Boys at Bay; or, Sheriff Timberlake's Triumph. 51 The James Boys’ Treasure Hunt; or A Thirty Days’ Race EY 17 The James Boys in No Man's Land; or, The Bandit King’s Last ' Detectives. Ride. 52 The James Boys and the Dwarf; or, Carl Greene’s Midget Detec- 18 Jim Cummins and the Detectives; or, Wild Adventures on the tive, x Missouri. 58 The James Boys’ Ride for Life; or, Chased by Five Detectives, 19 The Ford Boys’ Vengeance; or, from Bandits to Detectives. 54 eg’ sane teaser Ca Hiene for Millions; or, Carl Greene the Detec- | 20 Wood Hite’s Fate; or, The Mystery of the Old Log House. ive’s Riche: 21 The James Boys Afloat; or, The Wild Adventures of a Detective 55 oe ee ee Bi Dead: Shot FeGOn 5 Oh ene eat ied on on the Mississippi. 56 The Heese Boye’ jpold Moye; or, The Game that was Blocked" 22 The James Boys Lost’ or, The Detective’s Curious Case. een Detective. By Pi 23 Jesse James’ Pledge; or, The Bandit King’s Last Ride. 57 The aianion Boys as Brigands; or, The Bandits of the Big Blue. ¢ 24 The Man on the Black Horse; or, The James Boys’ First Ride In 25 palate Barr Baek fon Gaeey ets ol ane Reda: cot heh Missouri. 59 The James Boys in Peril; or, Carl Greene the Detective’s Oath, 60 The James Boys and the "Box of Diamonds; or, Scheming for Million: 25 The James Boys in Deadwood; or, The Game Pair of Dakota. 61 The James Boys Among the Clouds; ‘or, The Bold Detective’s Toar- 26 Life and Death of Jesse James, and Lives of the Ford Boys. Regal’ Plunge. “sD ye : 27 Frank James, the Avenger, and His Surrender. © ae ane vane Hove May ‘Qubwittine Carl Greene, jouble. 28 The James Boys Baflled;,or, A Detective’s Game of Bluff. 64 The dames Boys’ Lottery of Death; or, Running the Gauntlet with 29 Pinkerton’s Boy Detectives: or, Trying to Capture the James Boys. ectives. _80 The James Boys’ Blunder; or, The Fatal Mistake at Northfield. +3 ae ne Boye: a eytte ek enie yet le Patlures. 21 The James Boys on the Road; or, The Bandit Kings in a New Field. | §7 The James Boys’ Surrender; or, Carl Greene’s First Triump 82 The James Boys’ Shadows; or, The Nemesis of the Bandits. 68 The Le Road in the Mountains; or, Carl Greene the Gatecties 8 Grea . 23 The James Boys’ Signal Lights; or, The Cavern of Mystery. ' Surp: Loamassiot Col Gseinie’s deereosain dh sais 84 Jesse James, the Midnight Horseman; or, The Silent Rider of the oe The James Boys! eu f an Unknow? a Ozark. 70 Jesse James Greatest Crime; or, Carl Greene, the Detective at Wor 4 Two States. oe ac James Boys In Danger; or, Carl Greene the Detective’s Con 71 The aeaiea Be sg and Number Fifteen; or, Carl’Greene ated the. Band, — ning Scheme. 72 Jesse James’ Double; or, Carl Greene, the Detective, Baffled by Gabe 86 The James Boys’ League; or, Bafiled ine a Keen Detective. Ruse. For Sale by All Newsdenlene or will be Sent to Any Address on Receipt of Price, 5 Cents per. Copy, ae PRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, | 24 Union Square, Ni ew Yor IF YOU WANT ANY ‘BACK NUMBERS of our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be obtained from this office direct. 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 Tre- turn mail. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS “MONEY. : \ FRANK TOUSRY, Publisher, 24 Union raises New York, ' (Dueeeeedivapeeese ese (LOOK | Dear Str—Enclosed find .... cents for which please send me: ; Scie ae east A ag alert akg heey NOS. sc eseee tect este ee een een ee ete s essen ec es seeenees as we LIRR BPN. BOYS Oa 226 eek cence tenet eee nda Cone t eee ane cee eenererreene , Le © © PLUCK AND LUCK te (Ka wed Do ally nlenih(s ie UHR Nei pe gate 42m Oy Pane a ie a... © © SECRET SERVICE her ALO PtIE fe es Ree tn at OA ee ese OE SAMS BOYS WEERLY Oi eens Soke “ TEN oun HAND BOOKS meer se tees ne + Street and No... ee.
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ed THE STAGE. : 6. 41. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK END MEN’S JOKE OK.—Containing a great variety of the latest jokes used by the st famous end men. No amateur minstrels is complete without S wonderful little book. s i A o. 42, THE BOYS OF NEW YORK STUMP SPEAKER— ntaining a varied assortment of stump speeches, Negro, Dutch i Irish. Also end men’s jokes. Just the thing for home amuse- t and amateur shows. ~ o. 45. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK MINSTREL GUIDE D JOKH BOOK.—Something new and yery instructive. Every should obtain this book, as it contains full instructions for or- izing an amateur minstrel troupe. ; 0. 6. MULDOON’S JOKES.—This is one of the most original e books ever published, and it is brimful of wit and humor. It tains a large collection of songs, jokes, conundrums, ete., of rence Muldoon, the great wit, humorist and practical joker of day. Every boy who can enjoy a good substantial joke should ain a copy immediately. o. 79. HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR.—Containing com- bre instructions how to make up for various characters on the hee; together with the duties of the Stage Manager, Prompter, enie Artist and Property Man, By a prominent Stage Manager. o. 80. GUS WILLIAMS’ JOKE BOOK.—Containing the lat- jokes, anecdotes and funny stories of this world-renowned and er popular German comedian. Sixty-four pages; handsome lored cover containing a half-tone photo of the author. HOUSEKEEPING. Hh No. 16. HOW TO KEEP A WINDOW GARDEN,—Containing | instructions for constructing a window garden either in town country, and the most approved methods for raising beautiful wers at home, The most complete book of the kind ever pub- hed. : No. 30. HOW TO COOK.—One of the most instructive books cooking ever published. It contains recipes for cooking meats, ih, game and oysters; also pies, puddings, cakes and all kinds of stry, and a grand collection of recipes by one of our most popular oks, No. 87. HOW TO KEEP HOUSE.—It contains information for erybody, boys, girls, men and women; it will teach you how to ke almost anything around the house, such as parlor ornaments, ackets, cements, Aeolian harps, and bird lime for catching birds. ELECTRICAL. o. 46. HOW TO MAKE AND USE ELECTRICITY.—A de- mariniion of the wonderful uses of electricity and electro magnetism ; rith full instructions for making Electric Toys, Batteries, By George’ Trebel, A. M., M. D. Containing over fifty il- ations. : No. 64. HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL MACHINES.—Con- ning full directions for making’ electrical machines, induction ls, dynamos, and many novel toys to be worked by electricity. ry R. A. R. Bennett. Fully illustrated. No. 67. HOW TO DO ELECTRICAL TRICKS.—Containing a ge collection of instructive and highly amusing electrical tricks, gether with illustrations. By A. Anderson. ENTERTAINMENT. No. 9. HOW TO BECOME A VENTRILOQUIST. By Harry ennedy. ‘The secret given away. Every intelli ent boy reading is book of instructions, by a practical professor (delighting multi- des every night with his wonderful imitations); can master the , 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. No. 20. HOW TO ENTERTAIN AN EVENING PARTY.—A ry valuable little book just published. A complete compendium games, sports, card diversions, comic recitations, ete., suitable ir parlor or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more for the loney than any book published. No. 35. ‘HOW TO PLAY GAMES.—A complete and useful little bok, containing the rules and regulations of billlards, bagatelle, chaaneD croquet, dominoes, etc. —-A complete and handy little ons for playing Huchre, Crib- Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw. Poker, rums with key to same. y A. Anderson. P Ne owt De IQUETTE. ; \ No, 18. ; OR, BOOK OF ETIQUETTE.—It Sa great life secret, and one that every young man raed yok al! about. There’s happiness in it, - No. 33. HOW TO BENAVE.—Containing the rules and eti- Ruette of good Bact ae fae Pagina approved methods f appearing to g¢ ‘ parties, balls, the th : 4 one Fee inesring:room. e theatre, church DECLAMATION. No. 27. HOW TO RECITH AND BOOK OF RECITATIONS. Containing ie apa ble) ve Seieepones A ee. comprising Dutch Haleci ‘rench dialect, _} € and Irish dialect piece ; ith any standard readings. et pieces, together PRICE 10 CENTS EACH, Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York, No, 31. HOW TO BECOME A SPEAKER.—Containing four: | teen illustrations, giving the different positions requisite to become a good speaker, reader and elocutionist. Also containing gems from all the popular authors of prose and poetry, arranged in the most simple and concise manner possible. _ No. 49. HOW TO DEBATE.—Giving rules for conducting de bates, outlines for debates, questions for discussion, and the bes’ - sources for procuring information on the questions given. SOCIETY. No. 3. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirtation ary 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 mae 2 to everybody, both old and young. You cannot be happy without one. No. 4. HOW TO DANCH is the title of a new and handsome little book just issued by Frank Tousey. It contains full instruc tions in the art of dancing, etiquette in the ballroom and at parties, . Aas to dress, and full directions for calling off in all popular squar: ances. No. 5. HOW TO MAKE LOVE.—A complete guide to love courtship and marriage, giving sensible advice, rules and etiquetts to be observed, with many curious and interesting things not geri- erally known. No. 17. HOW TO DRESS.—Containing full instruction in ths art of dressing and appearing well at home and abroad, giving thz selections of colors, material, and how to have them made up. No. 18. HOW TO BECOME BHREAUTIFUL.—One of th brightest and most valuable little books ever giyen to the orld. Everybody wishes to know how to become beautiful, both male anc female, The secret is simple, and almost costless. and be convinced how to become beautiful. BIRDS AND ANIMALS. No. 7. HOW. TO KBHEP BIRDS.—Handsomely illustrated and! containing full instructions for the management: and training of the canary, mockingbird, bobolink, blackbird, yee parrot, ete. No. 39. HOW TO RAISE DOGS, POULTRY, PIGEONS AND RABBITS.—A useful and instructive book. Handsomely illus trated. By Ira Drofraw. 7 : No. 40. HOW TO MAKE AND SET TRAPS.—Including hints on how to catch moles, weasels, otter, rats, squirrels and birds ase how to cure skins. Copiously illustrated. By J. Harrington eene. No. 50. HOW TO STUFF BIRDS AND ANIMALS.—A yalv- able book, giving instructions in collecting, preparing, mounting and preserving birds, animals and insects. No. 54. HOW TO KEEP 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 ful instructions for making cages, etc. Fully explained i twenty eight illustrations, making it the most complete book of the kins ever published. MISCELLANEOUS. No. 8. HOW TO BECOME A SCIENTIST.—A useful and in structive book, giving a complete treatise on chemistry; also ex periments in acoustics, mechanics, mathematics, chemistry, ané directions for making fireworks, colored fires and gas balloons his book cannot be equaled. No. 14. HOW TO MAKE CANDY.—A complete handbook fox making all kinds of ene ice cream, syrups, essences, ete. ete. No. 19. FRANK TOUSEY'S UNITED STATES DISTANCE TABLES, POCKET COMPANION AND GUIDE.—Giving the official distances on all the railroads of the United States anc Canada. Also table of distances by water to foreign ports, hack fares in the principal cities, reports of the census, ete., ete,, making it one of the most complete and handy books published. No. 38. 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 eal Abounding in useful and effective recipes for general com, plaints. No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS.—Con. - taining valuable information regarding the collecting and arranging of stamps and coins. Handsomely illustrated. No. 58. HOW TO BE A DETECTIVH.—By Old King Brady. the world-known detective. In which he lays down some valuabl: and sensible rules for beginners, and also relates some adventures and experiences of well-known detectives: ; : ‘ No. 60. HOW TO BECOME A PHOTOGRAPHER.—Contain- ing useful information regarding the Camera and how to work it; also how to make Photographie Magic Lantern Slides and othe: pases eee Handsomely illustrated. By Captain W. De W. Abney. No. 62. HOW TO BECOME A WEST POINT MILITARY CADET.—Containing full explanations how to gain admittance Read this book course of Study, Examinations, Duties, Staff of Officers, Pos? Guard, Police Regulations, Fire Department, and all a boy should know to be a Cadet. Compiled and written by Lu Senarens, author of “How to Become a Naval Cadet.” ; No. 63. HOW TO BECOME A NAVAL CADET.—Complete it- structions of how to gain admission to the Annapolis Nava) Academy. Also containing the course of instruction, description of grounds and buildings, historical sketch, and eye thing a boy cat ape eo peroats an oo in pe Nae States Navy. Com- iled and written by Lu Senarens, author of ow to est Point Military Cadet.” Meek OR 3 FOR 2% CENTS.
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Prvovent An Pp IZuvucCK. CONTAINS ALL SORTS OF STORIES.” EVERY STORY COMPLETE 32 PAGES. BEAUTIFULLY COLORED COVERS. PRICE 5. CENTS. LATEST ISSUES: 167 Lot 77: or, Sold to the Highest Bidder. By Richard R. Mo gomery . 121 The Boy Courier of Siberia; or, The League of the Russian Prison | 168 The Boy "Canoes or, 1,000 Miles in a Canoe. Jas. C. Merri Mines. By Allan Arnold. 169 Captain Kidd, Jr.; or, The Treasure Hunters Bs ong Island. 122 The Secret of Page 99; or, An Old Book Cover.. By Allyn Draper. Allan Arnold. 123 Resolute No. 10; or, The Boy Fire Company of Fulton. By Wx-|170 The Red Leather Bag. A Weird Story of Land and Sea. Fire Chief Warden. Howard Austin. 124 The Boy Scouts of the: Susquehanna; or, The Young Heroes of “ry i 19 6 , p " the Wyoming Valley. By an Old Scout. 171 the eee Star’; or, The Masked Riders of Texas. By Al 125 ane ee Pea or, From a Cent to a Million. By H. BK.) 472 a New York Boy out With Stanley ; or, A Journey Through Afri 126 Shore Line Sam, the Young Southern Engineer; or, Railroading | 473 nate With Gaptein Memo: or, The Mystery of Whirlpool Isle 427 On the Brinks of, The Perils of Social Drinking. By-Jno. B. Dowd. By Capt, ‘Thos. H. Wilson.” n the Brink ; or, The Perils of Social Drinking. By Jno. ow : 128 The 13th of October, 1863. By Allyn Draper. 174 Two Boys’ Trip to an Unknown Planet. By Richard R. M 29 Through an Unk Land; or, ‘The Boy t ef the Quanza. Oe 1 Bion Utell and ; 0 e Boy Canoeist o Q 175 The Two Diamonds: or, A Mystery of the South African Ming The Blue Di AR f Myster Richard R. Mont- y Howard Aus a ‘gomery. i Se ence, ee 176 Joe, the Gymnast; or, Three Years Among the Japs. By 4 yy Reng ae Wacdon. eS Oy eee eae eer ea 177 ane Gre tte of No Man’s Land; or, An Uncrowned K By_“Noname.” 132 Little Red Cloud, The Boy Indian Chief. By an Old Scout. 133 Safety-Valve Steve; or, The Boy Engineer of the R. H. & W. By ae Gun-Roat Age eh pees Beton’ Paes xa By, Jas. rk Jas. C.. Merritt: Banker, By H, Kk. Shackleford. 134 The Drunkard’s Victim. By Jno. B. Dow “ : Ni saeRe : 135 Abandoned; or, The Wolf Man of the eka: By Capt. Thos. H. | 18° Fifty Riders. in Black Ons the Ravens of Raven Forest, Wilson. 18€ The Two Schoois at Oakdale; or, The Rival Students of Corrina | 1&1 The Boy Rifle Rangers; or, ‘Rit Carson’s Three Young Scot Lake. By Allyn nie By An Old Scout. 137 The Farmer's Son; or, Young Clerk’s Downfall. A Story of | 182 Where? or, Washed into an Unknown World. By “Noname.’ Country and City Tite. By Howard Austin. 183 Fred Fearnaught, the Boy Commander; or, The Wolves of 138 The Old Stone Jug; or, Wine, Cards and Ruin. By Jno. B. Dowd. Sea. By Capt. ‘Thos. H. Wilson. 139 Jack Wright and His Deep Sea Monitor; or, Searching for a Ton ;184 From Cowboy to Congressman; or, The Rise of a Young Ran of Gold. By ‘Noname.” man. “By Ki Shackleford. 140 The Richest Boy in the World; or, The Wonderful Adventures of | 185 Sam Spark, the Brave Young Fireman; or, Always the F a Young American. By Allyn Draper. on Hand. By lx-Fire Chief Warden. 141 The Haunted Lake. A merange Story. By Align Draper. 186 The Poorest Boy in New York, and How He Became Rich, 142 In the Frozen North; or, Ten Years in the Ice. y Howard Austin. N. S. Wood, the Young American Actor. 143 Caxiboet the ver ld ie 2 los in A Story of Adventures in Many | 187 es Wright, is ee Boy Inventor; or, Hunting for a Sun ands. Jas. C. erritt. Treasure. y “Noname.”” 144 Young eeabtata Rock; or, The First of the White Boys. By Allyn |188 On ote gr ba rece Bogie rae Fe es ape: St Jraper. : of Railroading in the Northwes as. errit 145 A Sheet of Blotting Paper; or, The Adventures of a Young |189 Red Jacket; or, The Boys of the wareunpege | Fort. By Ans 120 nee 4 ran Bichard ee ee eh. ie cai : a Scout. e Diamond Island; or, Astray in a Balloon. y Allan.Arnold. | 1¢ q , 1 147 In the Saddle from New York to San Francisco. By Allyn Draper. He ap ree boas ee ae power of city Lite, 148 The Haunted Mill on the Marsh. By Howard Austin. 191 The Coral City; or, The Wonderful Cruise of the Yacht Ve 149 ear eonee Crusader. A True Temperance Story. By Jno. B.|' — By Richard’ R. Montgomery. f owd. 92 ae 150 ae fe of Fire; or, The Fate of a Missing Ship. By Allan a Maring Scrackintiuds i Smart Bae ee Arnold. ‘ ; 7 ‘ o 151 nae rope suntan 6 Adin or, The Hunted Orphans of Salem. aoe 130 po ee ee lect emmetnes! Me Chasing diet y Richar ontgomery 3 i ‘ : 452 The ‘castaway’ s icin ou On A Vaiikes: Galion woy's’ Pluck. By. 194 F gee the Boy Jockey; or, Riding the Winner. By A} Thos. son 1 \ ° 153° Wort a Million; or, A Boy's Wight for Justice. ; By Allyn Draper. 195 Phe See Wolves; or, Wighting A Crafty King. | Re: (gist at ee ne scene EMS Wine Cape 7 Sy 196 The Palace of Gold; or, The Secret of a Lost "Rade. By. Rich 155 The Black Diver; or, Dick Sherman in the Gulf. By Allan Arnold. R. Montgomery. © 156 The Haunted Belfry: or, the Mystery of the Old Church Tower, | 197 Jack Wright’ $ Submarine Catamaran; or, The Phantom Ship By Howard Austin the Yellow Sea. By “Noname.’ 157 The House with Three Windows. By Richard R. Montgomery. | 198 A Monte Cristo at 18; or, From Slave to Avenger. By Al 158 Three Old Men of the Sea; or, The Boys of Grey Rock Beach. Draper. By Capt. Thos. H. Wilson 199 The Floating Gold Mine; or, Adrift in an Unknown Sea. 159 3,000 Years Old; or, The ost Gold Mine of the Hatchepee Hills. Capt. Thos. HH. Wilson. ‘ i 4, By Allyn Draper. 200 Moll Pitcher’s Boy; or, As Brave as His Mother. By Ge 160 Lost in the Ice. By Howard Austin. Jas, A, Gordon. 161 The Yellow Diamond; or, Groping in the Dark. By Jas. C. Merritt. |201 “We. By Richard R. Montgomery. 162 The Land of Gold: or, "Yankee Jack’s Adventures in Early Aus-}|202 Jack Wright and His Ocean Racer; or, Around the World tralia. By Richard’ R. Montgomery. 20 Days. By “Noname.” 163 i ape Plaing with Buffalo Bill; or, two Years in the Wild West. 203 The Boy Pioneers; or, Tracking an Indian Treasure. By All y an cou Draper. y 164 The Cavern of Fire; or, The Thrilling Adventures of Professor | 204 Still Riarn Sam, the Daring Boy Fireman; or, Sure to Be Hardcastle and Jack Merton.. By Allyn Draper. Hand. By x-lire Chief Warden. 165 diet pamela or, Lost in the Sea of Grass. y Capt. Thos. H son 166 Jack Wright, the Boy Inventor ; or, Bxploring Central Asia in a His Magnetic “Hurricane.” By “Noname.” For sale by all newsdealers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price, 5 cents per copy, by) FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, “ew we IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBERS of our Libraries and cannot procure them from newsdealers, they can be obtained from this office direct. Cut out and fil 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 turn mail. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. So avella et scales, 2) See Wi 6 04.0. 8 Brians o,i@ Oe eae 6 Ole) OO. mene She en Wt hebl’s 0 ese re) © 0) Te TONS fo: STV OTI EL (0 6/868 One Voliies! 9) leh @: or6i a oro 14/6 los SRI bn Git eenae eee FRANK TOUSEY, "Pattiatien: 24 Union Square, ax York. ass RD ately pa 4901. Dear Str—Enclosed find.....cents for which please send me: tee ore ee Ns INOS dis 6.5/ scab aes a 4a odio eyes Abr owes a eon oheohiskwo™pahsVeuuau ses ala U0) 2] ats olan Se) ee UORK AND SLUCK 60.8 as wig even eruie no's ovo ops we Sielalelidlew ars tahdlai ele sik.cla ols « sthcmal a eae Cs) POR BORET SERVIC we eae Ue ee wieuage ase nase dpneilinnes Os 4 eMlinalermny sere) oo pe Vaasa Sh ia ome EDR uP BRE Y LBON SOR 776 Mog. said og aie tOe ial icine alle » ane sahals aiatead cece manera chiens ale iste aaa a ees OU Man -Oent Elance DOOKS,( INOS 4) stave ai ssi Wes Spa. 6 0Sdlstale, 9's a: alignaliby 0 we ior ste a a Sais eal Ace teaMntg os eta ea IARC cass iis pase nose hedge fs treet and Nowe) Plas. by oe «ae LOWE, «. c Ga IB EE yoke) < Namely