Pluck And Luck (no. 564) (1909 03 24)
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Issued Weeklj—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Bntered as Second-Class Matter at the New York Post Office, November 7, 1898, by Frank Tousey. No. 564, NEW YORK, MARCH 24, 1909. Price 5 Cents. ‘BEN BREVIER; JHE ROMANCE oF AYOUNG PRINTER. <=: Bey LLYNVLAEP uit meal : ii Vile & acs , is ER. He turned and dashed for the back door, uttering a yell of defiance as he ran out. young lady!” yelled the officer, as Jennie attempted to stop the man. “I'll shoot the boy on sight!”
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ideas AND LUCK Stories of Adventure. asued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office, November 7, 1898. Entered mass ig, a to Act of Congress, in the year 1909, in the office of the Librarian of 1 Congress, Washington, D. Frank Tousey, Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York. . No. 564. : : NEW YORK, MARCH 24, 1909. PRICE 5 CENTS... BEN BREVIER) > its | OB, 3 : : k The Romance of A Young Printer Oe By Allyn Draper CHAPTER, 1. “Now, Disher, don’t be getting mad,” cried the editor, as he fell hopelessly back in his chair. “Here I am, writing a “ta BOY FROM NOWHERE. splendid editorial on the ‘Rights of Labor,’ and you’ ve knocked 5 ; : {all my grand ideas out of my head.” a We. wae a ‘new devil, Mr. Darkmore. Please get me one| “But I must have a devil or.a jour, sir,” Peer the @ fore: ‘a, rf ht off.” : man, “Why, Disher, what's become of ihe “old one? Terry ain’t| “Just wait till I finish this” article, and I’ll g0 ees ie the. ee off, has he? ; poorhouse and get you a good devil, Disher.” > i No—Terry is ‘all right, and I'm going to promote him—| “yoy got Terry from the poorhouse,” responded the foreman, ie going to put him at the case altogether; but Joe Drake says |“anad a wild devil he is.” _ he’s twenty-one, and he wants full jour’s pay.” “But he doesn’t cost anything but his grub and Bob’s old _ “Full jour’s pay!” exclaimed the editor, as he stared up from | clothes, Disher; and he does the chores around the house as his desk at the foreman with a look of horror. “Why, the| good as a servant girl—isn't that a big saving?” mee . fellow can’t be more than nineteen. ‘eel him on by the piece “I ain’t got a word to aay against Terry,” smiled the good- : Pt two-thirder. fs i natured foreman, “and I’m sure he’s worth more than he gets. ae Ta him se 2 and he retused it,” returned the fore-| 7 gon’t care whether you get him from the poorhouse, or the n. “He swears he’s twenty-one, and that he can set up jail, or the lunatic asylum; but I want, a good, smart, lively the er ee and he wants full pay.” - | devil right off, or there'll be a kick.” | stun And the candid foreman turned on his heel to leave ins sane... ‘tum, when a low, mild voice at the door arrested him, wes ce “Please, sir, do you want a boy?” Fred. Disher was somewhat of a wit, and before capistiah to” ee the intruder, he turned to the miserly editor, and burst out into ; a fit of laughter, ere he cried: ~ ah “Talk of the devil, and here he comes. Mr. Darkmore, look : 2g say that, Disher?” cried the furious m the desk and seized’ the. paste- | [ brai ie rain him? at our friend.” a out. | of town two hours ago, siry He said| ; ; ip Yau, iis tid: knew you were Ree ‘cies you say, een cried the @ alton a as. he “There's a devil for you!” cried the foreman, as he ‘pointed ¢ i a black-faced, ragged lad, aeha was standing at the door of. ee sanctum. a Sa “Please, sir, do you want a boy?” again inquired the un. ieibnd intruder, as he stared from the merry, foreman to th grim-visaged editor. “I do want to bea printer: so bad. % { | The owner of the pleading voice ‘appeared to” be a lad about seventeen; and even his ragged, misshapen gar ir ents could not hide the well-shaped limbs beneath. _ His face was hae) 8 oe over with some et along with the foree yourself a little more?”
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PEROT SSE RYT SERPS. SRN: Be ARNT Ak ar ea “Who in thunder daubed your face all over with ink, and who sent you here?” demanded the gruff editor. “Please, sir,” was the lad’s reply, as he fingered his old hat nervously, “I went into the Gazette office to. ask if they wanted an apprentice, and they——” “Blacked your face all over with {nk and sent you up here,” interrupted the foreman, with a merry laugh. “Yes, sir,” replied the lad. “They said that I was to ask for ,old Mr. Skinflint, and——” “ll skinflint the scoundrels!” roared the insulted editor. “T’ll bring an action for libel against them. Ill burst up that miserable sheet before they get out another edition. What else did they say in that one-horse concern, you infernal’ young | idiot?” “Please, sir, they told me you wanted a boy to learn the gleaming black eyes, as he made a dash across” printing business, but that you never took an apprentice if. ‘he wasn’t blind, or lame, or lost a hand, or——” “l’llinake them see streaked lightning, the scoundrels, before long!” roared the angry editor, as he danced around the sanc- | tum, “Disher, kick that young rascal out. Give him thunder. This is a put-up job to insult me. Won’t I make Fuller sweat for this base, low trick. Oh, the miserable, mean, contemptible gcalawag! ae And the angry editor, groaning with rage, flung himself on his chair and pressed his hands on his burning brow, mutter- | ing dire threats the while against his rival, Franklin Fuller, of the Centretown Gazette. d : Oh, the merry smile that was on the Bieumte face as he - turned to the innocent youth and said: “TI must kick you out, young fellow.” - “Very well, sir,” replied the verdant lad, as he turned his back to the foreman. “They told me old Skinflint would kick » me out first and then take me in after. I don’t mind kicking ‘much, for I’m used to it; but I do want to be a printer! Pi deeit ‘sir, the imposing stones are out on the sidewalk in a wheel- SS arrow P-, : 3 “The imposing stones!” cried the foreman, as he stared at the black-faced youth. | “Yes, sir; they said down at iMesqanatid'e Office aS how old Mr. a Skinflint was too mean to buy imposing stones, and they said “as how T’a be sure to get a job from him if I’ brought the loan tk ot two good ones to him.” The foreman rushed to the window, and another roar of | laughter burst from him as he saw a wheelbarrow on the side- walk with two great rough rocks on it. i As the: author intends to make everything clear as ie ‘pro- seeds, to those who are not familiar with the mysteries of a large flat marble slabs, on. which. the types are “made up” be- fore being placed on the press; and the youngest apprentice is called “the devil.” — ; site” corner. SO Mr. Darkmore, get out your revolver.” 2 “Dear me, Disher, what's the matter?” inquired the nervous ditor, as he made a dash into the composing-room. “Is that prchele Puller coming in here again, after I bound him over was up, rushed ‘out to ante front stoop to see the fun. aie “Help. this nigger boy in with those stones, Benson,” cried BEN BREVIER. | “A dire insult!” cried the foreman of th it: I'm not working by the week, I ain’t. Crimin Gazette fellers.” “Is it a fine fight we're going to have?” ¢ young fellow, with a wild gleam in his b’ rushed out of the Beagle composing-room. The foreman stepped down to the wh card from off one of the rough rocks, ang board up as he read aloud: “Presented to Old Skinflint by the Han Gazette, and with them A New Devil f i - printing office he ‘will now state that “imposing stones” are the | : “Sold again!” cried Disher, as he winked at the laughing _ employees of the Gazette, who were taking notes at the Oppo- | ‘lyoung fellow?” ; Ditty ms cried the el tragic voice, as he shook his elenched fist a the Gazette on the opposite corner. / “Have at them, boys,” eried the young wards the employees of the rival sheet, “Thi | ning, I can lick the best of the crowd—giv A loud shout of derision burst from the G: scampered down the street, just as the Beagle appeared on the stoop, erying: © “Get back to your work, gentlemen of m don’t waste time with those miserable wret young fool who caused all this mischief The “young fool who had caused all the 1 ischi ing on the stoop rail, staring at the scene ; while all the employees were looking at and smiling and winking at each other as work at the command of the Great Moz “Please, sir,” said the blackened simpleton, the foreman, “won’t you kick me, Ang, have to bea Prise: so much.” | ‘himself before the.lad, saying: : ; “Don’t touch the boy, Mr, Darkmore. — “What is. wee name, “Ben, sir,” was the quiet. reply, ie ®, “Got no other?” inquired the foreman, “That’s all I was ever called, sir.” “Where do you come: from, Bea? 5 “Nowhere, sir.” a “Kick him down the stoop!” diel or a rogue. I tell you, ie a ante down.” The foreman didn’t see it in that the simple-appearing lad, while é “@ot a father or mother, “No, sir; but I’ve got a letter fro} Oh, siz, kick me, if you'll iv me. : write, Can you, Ben?” ; “Yes, sir,’ and I know geograp h “That will do, Ben,” the. ‘office Wa me, ees “The bogs dia see interfere, fo | was afraid of Disher's “kicks,” into the composing-room, wi hands that he was to be tl
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BEN BREVIER. 3 bursts of laughter, as the foreman told them of the scene in the sanctum, while Terry swore “that if they had an ounce of pluck in them they’d go down and tear out the Gazette office. ” “Please, sir,” said the young stranger, in low tones, as he turned to the foreman, “couldn’t I leave this black on my face? i—I—want to he disguised: I have enemies, who want to kill me.” The kind-hearted foreman was touched by that plaintive |. voice, and drawing the disfigured lad aside, he asked: “Young fellow, what’s wrong with you? ‘Where did you come from, and what are you afraid of?” One look into the foreman’s kindly face, and there was @ tear in the lad’s eye, as he replied: “T have just escaped from prison, sir. I was accused of mur- der. But may I be struck dead this moment if I am not as innocent of the crime as you are. Oh, for mercy’s sake, don’t betray me. My enemies are after me now. I haven’t a friend in the wide world. Believe me, sir, I’m not a thief or a mur- “derer.” : ey believe you, poor fellow,” answered Disher, as he pressed ' the fugitive’s hand. “i’ll stand to you ay-well as I can. Trust to me.” CHAPTER II. BEN STRIKES HIS FIRST BLOW. Centretown is a flourishing place in the State of New York, and it boasted of two very lively weekly newspapers, whose editors were eternally at war. smeared with ink, while a dark scowl was ever on his repul- Sive countenance, and his heart was black indeed. Terry Mallon was the only name the former devil ever went ° by, though he could never tell where he got that title, as he did not know his parents, Terry was a graduate of the re Miotan, and he was one of the wildest secamps, and the most mischievous, ever sent out on the world from any institution—good or bad. * What the lad might have become, if treated properly bing childhood, is hard to say, but kickings and cuffings,. incessant ~ toil and no play, abuse and slurring, had soured his’ mind; and he felt that all human beings were his enemies. And yet Terry was full of mischief, always deadly: for a fight 4 or a prank, and fearing or respecting no’ one save Fred Disher, the foreman, while he hated his employer with a savage hate. But there was one being in the world whom Terry loved, as will appear hereafter. Such were the employees: of the Beagle ses where our wanderer had found a resting-place. : As the foreman was speaking to the young. fugitive, he drew him to his desk in a secluded cortler of the room, and, motion- ing the blackened lad to a cbair beside him, he asked: ‘ “Will you tell me the story of your life? a may trust me | to keep your secret.” “J feel that I can, sir,” you.” And the fugitive told his story in simple words, while he kept his honest blue eyes fixed on the foreman. ~” When the story was ended, the foreman pressed his hand, saying: ogee! “TI firmly believe you, Ben: You must remain here, and Secssit was the earnest. reply.- a well Lae - Yom Darkmore, the editor of the Beagle, was a man of fifty, | the business, You will have a rough time for awhile; and then — ‘rich and mean as. dirt, scurrilous and :cowardly; and his son, { you can set out to avenge your wrongs, Can you fight?” a Bob, was a “chip” of the old man. , It was rumored that the editor of the Beagle, who also prac- ticed law, had obtained his wealth by some dark transactions ; in days gone by, for certain it was that the profits of the paper were not sufficient to enable him to acquire the extensive mort- gages and property he possessed. - This man wrote glowing articles on the er of. labor, and “he starved his own employees. he: would not allow a story paper in his house; yet his own son was the greatest sneak and the meanest scamp in town. é vival, Franklin Fuller, who was a “square man” in every way, /but he had not the manhood to. face his rival with fist or Weapon, when bodily attacked for his abuse. So much for the character of the man “who will act an im- ‘ portant part in this history, and now for the employees in the +S Beagle office. - Fred Disher, the foreman, was) a man, in every sense of the word—a_ good printer, a just overseer, and an outspoken advo- “cate of truth and justice. f Darkmore was compelled to treat his foreman ‘with ana: vel as to pay him good wages, for the simple reason that ‘and competent, : ‘ ‘Disher had two “jours,” and two apprentices, a ithe time when the forlorn tugitive sone aig cette ‘of “devil” in ‘ He was eternally preaching of immoral light reading, and ; Darkmore indulged in the grossest personalities about his: ‘that ink off—or benzine.” “bucket. sher would not stand any nonsense, and ne was Lae cided christen him?” » ; a May: 3 “I—I—neyer tried much, sir,” stammered the lad, as his eyes het brightened,. “But I don’t think I'll be a coward when the time comes to-——” ; Te, “TI was going to say,” interrupted the foreman, as he cast an eye at the mischievous Terry, “that it would be well for you if — you showed some of the fellows here that you’re not a slouch. - nN Lick the first one who attempts to wagers on you, and nica ‘are all right.” At that moment the foreman was summoned to a political convention by the editor, and ordering Terry to. supply ‘the stranger with soap and towel, he hastened away. fing And then Terry was up for mischi€f; he was after the new devil. c “Want soap and towel, eh?” he couthentet as he at the others, “’Pears to me ’tis oil or lye will have to a “Whatever you ee nena the humble. Dee ee: ” was the reply. face, while he stirred the cae tn t the iiieuke: snoozer what’s only got one swe rere “Say, “Certainly—he must have ¢ a full. name i this office!” cried Black Bob; “baptize hi The crippled jours did not say a wo of the mischievous ‘Terry. “ste i You'll haye. = clear out of this” one tened,” “sal
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4 BEN BREVIER. though they played some harmless tricks on him, little dream-| “You'll want a suit of dry clothes,” said the young girl, as ing of the dose in store. ~ : she looked at the drenched garments. “Come into the house, — “Well,” he said; “I don’t mind being christened, if you say |and I’ll give you this wretch’s Sunday rig. There!” Hi it’s right. . You can give me-.any other name you like.” And Jennie turned to her scowling brother as if defying him ; a “Stand here by this trough, then,” cried Terry, “and I'll do }'to offer any opposition to the proposition. the job. I must blindfold you, you know. That's always the Ben cast one glance at the indignant young girl, and he could way we christen devils in a printing office. Stand-around, fel-|see that her eyes were dark and flashing, that her black hair ~ lers, and see the ceremony. What name will you take?” fell in ringlets on her neck, and that she had one of the most “Any name you like,” replied the victim, who had allowed | expressive and kindly faces he ever beheld. : Terry. to bind the towel over his eyes in the meantime. “Come into the house with me,” continued the young girl, as. Terry stepped on a low stool, holding the sires in his hand, she saw that Ben hesitated. “Who is he, Mr. Benson?” as he cried: “The new devil, Miss Jennie.” “You must pick. out a name for yourself, you know. As you “Ah, I understand, Oh, you are a nice lot of timate ela e are going to be a printer, what do you say to Brevier—Ben | to abuse a fellow creature in that way. Come in av with me, a é Brevier.” boy.” \ : “Revier—Revier!” gasped the victim, as he started back. Ben looked at the kind creature for a moment, and his “Did you say Revier?” was now clean and deathly pale, as he replied: “No—no,” said Terry. “B-r-e-v-i-e-r, a kind of type we use. “TI thank you, miss, and I will go. But I must give this You’ll soon know all the names of the types. ei do you say | fellow a licking first; the foreman said I should give it to the first one who imposed on me. Here goes.” q And ie mild-mannered lad made a dash at Terry, 8 to Brevier?” “That will do,” replied the victim, with a sigh of relief. “Ben Breyier it is, then,” cried Terry. And the rascal dashed the bucket of burning lye over his; ground. victim’s head. Jennie uttered a ery of joy and ithpceut her hander In justice to the crippled jours, it must be stated that they | cried: supposed the bucket contained water only, or they would have “Oh, isn’t that just splendid. Give this other eaean one interfered to prevent the outrage. like it, if he is my brother.” : Bob Darkmore knew that Terry was mixing the potash, and “What's all this row about?” ered 1 a harsh tee as” ‘a shriek of delight burst from the mean hound, as he saw the] editor and the foreman appeared on the scene. “What's ‘the victim dancing around the room, ‘uitering cries of pain, as he| matter, Jennie?” — ’ tore the bandage from his eyes. ~ ae “That will take all the ink off his face,” cried Terry, as he at danced around after his victim. “He—he-—he! ‘isn’t it a bully CHAPTER III. : baptism? You'll never forget your christening, young feller.” i “ “My eyes—my ¢yes!” roared the suffering victim, as he THE FIGHT IN THE YARD pressed his hands thereto. “I am blind! Oh, how could you] “be so cruel? Water—water, for mercy’s sake!” ’ Jennie did not answer on the instant, as rane was. ‘watching The crippled jours, were about to drag the poor sufferer Tery, who had regained his feet, his eyes’ Eleemine wed mage, _ back to the pump in the rear, when a young girl of sixteen |as he glared at the young stranger. ‘ dashed into the room, erying: | “What isthe matter, Benson?” cried pe) editor, as he 2 stare “What is the matter with this boy? Who is he? Terry, this at Ben’ s eViones figure. ; is one of your tricks.” “II didn’t mean. it, Miss Jennie,” stammered the cruel _ wretch, as he ‘snealted away behind: the press. “Water will wash SORE Pr 7 | “Oh, goodness! my eyes!” beaonda the victim in the mean- tinié. “Will no one throw water over me? I am burning all} “He hit me in the face, a ih bound to tick him SOMOR E23 bled Terry. . ‘ “Come out with me, poor fellow,” cried the young girl, as} “I’m going to lick. you,” said Ret as he \eayaieee ne seized Bob’s hand. “You, Benson and Perkins, get out and tormentor, his blue eyes flashing with indignation. : pump as hard as you can—and you ought to be ashamed of “Stop that!” roared the editor, as he dashed in be ; yourselves. You pa monster! don’t you ever speak lads. “What do’ you mean, you young scoundrels! ; tome again! “é know 1 don’t allow fighting ‘in my——” 5 The last Sentence Was addressed to the cruel Terry, eae now “You. stand aside, please, sir,” said the atone 3 “sprang forward to assist in washing away the burning | fluid, tones, as he pushed the editor: back. “I’ve been. wantin ‘The poor sufferer was placed undér the pump in the yard, Terry get a good licking, and I think he dese and while the cool water was poured down on his head and | certain. ‘Look at that bag sah oe i body, the young: jatel continued her bitter denunciation, the two ae bs i rippled jours protesting their innocence as well as they could, “Oh, ain’t I ashamed of you as a- brother, you fiend!” she| ried, as she. turned her flashing eyes on Bob Darkmore. “I know that you encouraged that other wretch to do this. If I were: a man,’ d beat the pair of you to death. aap you see now, oor fellow?” {struck him in the ent: sa -and sending him staggering $Oh, isn’t that splendid!” “Yes—yes, thank you,” replied ‘Ben, as. he withdrew : ies | kept) her father’ back. a ace from under the pump, and allowed the water to flow down | “Ha, ‘ha, Terry!” ¢ or aed soon ‘be all. right. | Oh, I'm so| at bog see wanted that path.” eat | eS
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\ BEN BREVIER. scoundrel, Fuller, say, when he learns the facts? They must not fight, Jennie.” “Oh, I only wish you’d treat Fuller ‘that way, father,” ‘cried Jennie, as she forced the cowardly editor back. “Then he wouldn’t be putting, mean articles in his paper about you.” “T never wrote a line about you or your lady mother, Miss Jennie, and I never will, though your father has published seur- rilous things about my wife and daughters,” said a manly voice at the door. “Tis Fuller—'tis Fuller!” groaned the editor of the Beagle, as ‘he made a dash; behind the two cripples. “Save me, men. He came here to murder me.” 4 “Shame, father!” cried the young daughter. “J did not come here to assault you, Darkmore,” said the rival editor, who was a man of medium stature, with a pleas- » ant face, and merry blue eyes. “I came here to apologize for the insult offered you by my hands in sending the— Thunder, _ain’t those young fellows pitching into each other!” And the two young fellows were He pecctei into each other with savage fury. ~ When Terry received the plow that sent him reeling esititet ie the pump, the young rascal was dazed for a few moments; “but it was only for a few moments. ‘Hearing the .exultant cries of the foreman. and Jennie, he cast. one more reproachful glance at the yonug girl, ae then, with a vengeful-yell, he sprang at his foe. _. And then it was give and take for some moments, as the _ vengeful blows were exchanged at close quarters. - “Pon’tinterfere, Mr. Fuller, I beg of you,” cried the foreman, as the edijor of the Gazette made a movement to part thé lads. a “This is my new devil, and Terry has been ‘imposing on him cruelly already. Let them fight it out fair, for I do want to See, him lick the rascal.” ‘*So do I,” cried Jennie. '“He’s not able,” roared Terry, in savage ‘tones, as he struck out. right and left. “Tt make mince-meat out of the loafer in no time.” “I’m going to lick you badly,” cried Ben, as iS ‘dealt blow : for blow.. “I’ll show you that you mustn’t play’ any more tricks on me.” “This is disgraceful! ” groaned the editor of the Beagle, as he glared at his rival. “Disher, you must stop’ this fight. Fuller “Will have-a full column in’ his sheet about this.” *Not-a line, * eried Fuller, as he winked at Disher! (oO see a quarrel settled in a square, manly way: Ha! catching it now right lively.” And Terry was catching it right lively, as the young stranger is Warming up to the work, dealing his tormentor stinging Ws that sent him staggering around the yard, and following up with such*fury as left him no chance of Fepetnin’ his “breath. ; “Terry is licked!” cried Jack Benson: “Knocked: out of time!” said Josh Perkins. evry: enough, Terry, or he'll kill you,” sang out the foreman, “Nay. enough!” roared Terry, as he ‘dashed in at his" oppo- ent and clutched him by the throat. “I'll. kill him first!” Ah, Terry, that game would not work with ‘the ‘mild-man- - nered youth, who now seemed to be possessed with a ¢ strength and fury of an enraged’ bull.’ One sudden, violent thrust forward of the youns stranger’s ead, and Terry was eras tiy on the oe gasping for i fs Semen "Have you enough now?” aetnatada’ Ben, in exaitea ot eel 1e stood over his tormentor. | ~I—-guess i have,” ow te ee “T like “Terry y i ¥ te f ee rere ve got the best ce = “But I’ve got to lick the other yet,” cried Ben, as he glared at Bob Darkmore. “He urged him on to throw the burning stuff on me, and he must get his share of the punishment.” The foreman and the others stared in astonishment at the young fellow. Ten minutés before, and he was as mild and as humble . in his bearing as the meekest petitioner for office could be; and now his blue eyes flashed with anger; every vein in his fore- head was swollen with excitement and indignation, and that voice, so quiet and plaintive before, now rang out clear and determined. i “Who else abasea you, young fellow?” inquired the editor of the Beagle. - Bob Darkmore—the cowardly hound—was ‘sneaking away, when the young stranger sprang after him, crying: “This sneaking fellow. He must get his share. The foreman said I must lick all those whe imposed on me,” - “J didn’t do nothing to you,” whined Bob. “You did. You urged on the other fellow; and you’re worse - than he is. Take /that!” And before anyone could interfere, Ben hes Black Bob a tremendous blow between the eyes, stretching him on the ground. “Served him right,” ‘said Jennie to the interested editor of the Gazette. “’Twas shameful to abuse him as” they have done,” '“Ho’s killed my son, you aeautarel: u yelled the editor of the Beagle, as he stooped down to pick up a brick. “Oh, you mur- dering wretch, I’ll have your worthless life.” : “Wather—father!” cried Jennie. “Don’t dare to hit the boy. He was right. Gracious goodness! he’s killed him! Ah, that was cowardly, father! I can never respect you again.” The infuriated coward had dashed the brick at Ben’s face with all his force, and the poor wanderer was stretched in- . sensible on the ground, the blood gushing from his mouth and nose. ; ; “Cowardly is no name. for it,” cried Fuller of the Gazette, =i as he bent over the insensible lad with Disher. “You may be — certain ['ll have this outrage in the Gazette, Datkmore. Pe yraynie “The boy is dead!” cried Disher. “You fellows run for. Dr. } Dean. Mr. Darkmore, you get another foreman.. Tu never lift ‘fe another type for you—blame you and your cowardly son.” _ \“Dead—dead!” exclaimed Jennie, as she bent down over the insensible lad. “Oh, don’t say that, Disher! He isn’t dead—is he—Mr. Fuller? Poor—poor fellow! I wonder if he has a_ mother? Oh, father—father, it was a dastardly act, for Bob — is not injured at all, and he deserved to be half-killed. Oh, you wretch, twas you caused all this trouble. Never speak to me—never look at me again!” 2 The last expression was directed to ‘Térry, who was. By Tes ing at the bloody face of his late opponent, as he ‘muttered: : “T hope the fellow is a goner. Old Darkmore will be fOURE ves, for it, Jennie is too hard on me for a little trick.” = Father and son were also staring at Ss, asec form, and the former kept .muttering: “He had ‘no right to strike my son. of Bob—if he is dead.” aa Bob did not. say a word, but the dark scowl. on his ne ly face told that he was pleased at the stranger’s mishap. Living or dead, poor Ben had already made thrée bitte enemies in Centretown; but he Bag see gained three’ good | friends. ; ? "Twas aéne in aétense j eas "CHAPTER IV.
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6 BEN BREVIER. “For your sake, I won’t, Miss Jennie; DBS I’d like to-——” | won’t fight any more to- ie Let us ee him into es “But you won’t, Mr. Fuller.” sir.” “I'd like to have the boy in my_office,” Free the editor of the Gazette. “I don’t think he'll eyer get a chance here, and I’m kind of taken with the young fellow.” “He will get a chance here, Mr. Fuller, or Pll know why,” retorted Fred’ Disher. “Why, I thought you were going to leave Mr. Darkmore, Disher?” queried the editor of the rival paper, with a droll _ smik. “I'd never make up another form for him, if that young fellow caved, » replied Disher; “but as he’s all right now, I’m going to take him in hand and make a printer of him. You bet Terry won’t tackle him again.” “Don’t be too sure of that, Mr. Disher,” said Fennid, in low tones. “I know Terry better than you do, and I tell you he’ll never forgive the stranger for that licking.” “The stranger is able to lick him every doy in the week, Miss Jennie,” returned Disher. “Thunder! but I never saw a young fellow fight like him in my life before.” - “In open, fair fight, I’m sure the stranger is his master,” said the young girl; “but Terry is such a cunning rogue. And . then Bob will be sure to plague the stranger, whenever he ean do it on the sly. I think it RNS be better to accept Mr. Fuller's kind offer, and——” “Excuse me, Miss Jennie,” interrupted the foreman, “if I tell you-that I won’t stand anything of the kind. I want a devil, and this boy suits me to a hair space. If I stay in this | office, I’m going to have him with me, for I told him I would. Ben sticks here.” hs “Father will never like him; Mr. Disher,” again remon- . strated Jennie. _ The foreman smiled at the persistent girl, “Who. does he like, Miss Jennie?—except it is yourself. If - you boss your husband as you do your father, If wouldn’t——” “Don’t be silly, Mr. Disher,” laughed the young girl. “But, z seriously, I think you will regret keeping this poor stranger here.” ) ° sae pc 2 tl take the chances; Miss Jennie. Here he sticks, while idea stick, Mark my. words, this young fellow will turn up a trump every time. If your father don’t want to board him, v ll make room for him at my place.” “You. had better, Mr, Disher,” said the young girl. “Father has taken a great dislike to him—that I can see—and I don’t ‘think it would be pleasant for him in our house.” “That's all right, Miss Jennie. I'll take the ‘poy in hand. Im bound to see him through, for I’ve taken quite a shine to ' him.” ; “If he doesn’t get along all right here,” said. the editor of . the. Gazette, “’ll try and make room for him in my office, et Good-day, my dear Miss Jennie. Not a word about this. business in my paper, you may be assured.” _ And the editor of the rival paper hastened away’ from the AS Bangte sanctum muttering: “How can such an old scalawag have atcke a girl?) There’s ie ‘mystery about that boy, I'll swear, and Disher knows _ However, ’tis not my business to ferret it out. 1 guess = ae Darkmore won’t attack me in a hurry again.” ile this conversation was going on in the sanctum, Ben sitting on a chair at the foreman’s desk in the composing oom, and the jours and apprentices were. working away at ases, keeping up the steady “click—click” as the types ‘placed on the rules in the iron “sticks.” _ Before the doctor arrived, Ben opened his eyes and stare scene of the. encounter, and then he muttered; i as he replied: ‘come, I’ll neyer look at you again.” 2 “Father will have to. give you ¢ a new ae for this, The editor of the Gazette assisted Disher in pearing into the composing room; and when the doctor arrive examined his face, ke asserted that “his injury amount to anything. A mere contusion—that’s a? 7 ae When Tom Darkmore heard this, he hastened: awa: convention, muttering: “Who is it that young fellow puts me in mind of? make it out. I must let up on Fuller for a while, ) rip out on me about this. I don’t like that se oc bit, and I must get rid of him.” “This young fellow is very weak,” continued the ¢ d he felt Ben’s pulse, and then looked at his sees “Are you hungry, youngster?” The poor wanderer held down his head, ag he ste forth; while he cast a timid glance at the FREE girls: “I—I am not much now—only weak.” ¢. “When did you eat last?” demanded the doctor, as” the bashful, timid look. = “Two days ago, sir,” was the low reapotiies “Gracious me!” eried Jennie, as she darted sae “To think——” “Bring a little wine, also, Miss Jennie,” eried th who knew that the young girl was’ hurrying to her house next door for substantial nourishment, “Two days without food, * thought Fred Ree with water and covered with blood. © Though the weather was still warm, “he was | every limb, as he watched the nimble typesetters while he thought: “Wonder if I'll ever be able to sahate the types Ii’s all a mystery to me now. Oh, I do hope that this ness abe not hinder me from——” yt wet iolee Ben?” inquired Jennie, as. sane step) sanctum. “I—I—T'd rather not, _ Please, miss. It ik could Vd be all vight.**. ~~ , f 5 “I say you must: come!” commanded ‘che: 2 impel yo damsel, as she seized the lad by, ae shoulder. 4 And Ben was compelled to go. aed See think you both ‘ought to feel very glad to ‘Bet, off sc Bob muttered some. “cuss” words. between his ,and T'll lick the other fellow| Be
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BEN BREVIER. ee n “Do you want another licking, you loafer? If you say that} young fellow, and I won’t forget it, either. Iam a convict again, V’ll kill you—I’ll murder you!” “You are a convict, and you’re my prisoner!” rang out a Stern voice at the door of the composing room. } ; All eyes in the room were turned to the door on the instant, and there stood a tall, dark looking man, holding a Satie in his hand, which he had pointed at Ben. Jennie uttered a cry of terror as she saw the extended weapon, and cried: “Oh! sir, don’t shoot the poor boy!” “Stand aside, Jennie!” cried the father, who was standing near the tall man, as he bent his scowling eyes on Ben, abet young wretch is a depraved murderer; he-———” “Tis a lie!” cried Ben, in passionate tones, as he folded his arms on his breast and glared defiantly at the tall officer. “J am not a murderer, and you know it well, Pete Clayton. You treacherous, mean, wicked hound, I’ll——” — “Shut up, Ben Revier, tr I’ll blow your head off!” cried the: tall officer. “Stand aside, young lady, till I clap the brace- jets on my prisoner. He’s a desperate scoundrel, and he’s broken jail twice before.” / z : “And I will again, you skunk,” cried the undaunted lad. * “But you haven't taken me yet, and you won't, Pete Clayton. Ll kill you—and those who set you on me—yet!” As the convict uttered the last sentence, he turned and dashed for the back door, uttering a yell of defiance as he ran out. ; “Stand aside, young lady!” yelled the officer, as Jennie at- tempted to stop the man. “I'll shoot the rip on sight.” Flinging the young girl aside, the excited man rushed to the door in pursuit, followed by the editor, his Reset) and his “employees. tt “Shoot him down—kill him!” yelled Terry, as he followed the officer into the back yard. “There goes' the skunk over the fence!” Bang—bang! went the man’s revolver, as the fugitive sprang over the fence. Another yell of ablinaes from Ben, a ery for merey from i Jennie, and the fugitive was out on the high road, and dashing down towards the river. “After him! down with him! yelled Terry, as he outran the others in pursuit. -, he’s.a murderer; he's a convict!” On after Terry rushed Bob Darkmore, shouting and yelling as he ran; and on after him ran the dark officer, Disher, Jen- nie, and her scowling father, the latter muttering: *I hope the officer will kill the young wretch, and not take im back to prison. I thought his face was familiar, - Great gar, if he gets out of prison again, rm a ruined man!” 7 “Don’t shoot that boy, stranger! ” yelled Fred Disher, as he saw that the fugitive was “making for the river. “You can take him ‘easy enough without killing him. “fhundér! there he: ‘goes inte the river. Don’t fire, I say!” kill the murdering thief!” “Stop thief! yelled ‘the officer, as they gained the bank. “I’m bound to - take that fellow, dead or alive, and I don’t care which.” As the man spoke, he took aim at the fugitive, who was : swimming ‘to the opposite shore, and the next moment two e sharp reports rang out, and then a cry of agony was heard. ‘ “Oh! that was cruel—too cruel, officer,” cried Jennie. ees 007 fellow has gone down.” ae We thousand dollars for those Shots, ‘omteer whiepesed: rt father into the man’s ear. ae. he comes up again, Vil make it two, if you. kill him.” “He? 's. down—he's gone!” yelled Terry. ure hat, Bob—floating down ie ‘tiver.” “There goes his nat “Mind your own business—I guess I know" what I’m about: ol Mr. Fuller, you are a justice of seg peace; ane) i demand that you arrest. that man,” “What is the iets cried sth aittgr of the Gazette, ho had just arrived on the scene, with many others. : “You don’t know what you're talking about, stranger,” cried the scowling officer, as he still watched the river, while he held ihe fatal igen! ready to ae again, should see fugi- tive appear. “Twas a cruel shenasy ”-eried Jennie. fellow’s life in cold blood.” : “Jennie, you must. go home,” said her fathier,. in ‘iran tones. “Disher, that young scoundrel, as this officer from Ohio tells me, was a vile murderer. He murdered an old man who had adopted him, and then robbed him, He Was sent to the penitentiary for life, and he escaped.” “T guess he’s done for,” said the officer, as he turned away from the river and addressed Mr. Fuller, who was scrutinizing the man with keen eyes. “My name is Clayton—Pete Clayton —and I'm from Cleveland. I’ve got all my papers hete to show you I’m 0.K. As this gentleman says, that young fel- low was an escaped convict—a lifer—in for killing the old man who brought him up since he was a child.. He near killed two keepers before he broke out of prison; and he'd: have killed me, if ’'d given him a chance.” : eg take the poor “I don’t believe he ever murdered a oS said “Fred hea’ Disher, stoutly, as he cast an angry glance at the officer. “I don’t believe it, either,” said Jennie, “and ’twas base and — cowardly of you to——” “Go home, Jennie,” said her father. “Not till I see if there’s any chance of saving febee father, it .was the firm reply. But there did not appear to be a shadow of a ghause of saving the poor convict. 2 Terry, Bob Darkmore, and two others, put out. in a small ‘ boat, rowing up and down the river for some time, without _ finding a trace of the body of the unfortunate fugitive. When Jennie returned to her home that evening, Oe eyes. were red With weeping. There was a grim smile of triumph in her father’s face, as He o he accompanied the Ohio detective to his hotel. Fred Disher had a ft of the blues for at least three: days” after; and the folks in the office noticed that he regarded the grim’ editor with a peculiar smile whenever the Jatter ap- peared in the composing room. As Terry and Black Bob walked home together, the former. ae remarked:, “Wasn't it funny, though, that I should call the wapbianeee : Brevier in christening him, and his real name Revier all the time. Only just putting the cap B before it. sorry for him—are you, Bob?” “Not much, ‘Terry. But you can bet your life on one thing.” “What is that, Bob?” “Jennie will be eternally down on you and me after this.” “I’m so sorry for that, Bob. I’d sooner lose my right hand than have Jennie right down Ri wal at’ me. i CHAPTER V. Ss a _ STARTING ANNOUNCEMENT. Two years have passed away since’ the evantig on aytitch ‘Let's Bek out, a the Door’ ~wonviet lost his life in. mee muting #0 eae the de- ee ive 5 %, ee I ain’t much Z “
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BEN . BREVIER. 8 Tom Darkmore ig still its editor, and that grim-visaged philosopher is now an aspirant for political honors, as he has received the nomination for Congress from his party. And Franklin Fuller, of the Gazette, is his opponent in the contest, Ever since the day when Darkmore struck that cowardly blow in the back yard, the rival papers had refrained from “pitching in” to each other, for the! simple reason that the editor of the Beagle was afraid to, fearing an exposure of that affair in the Gazette; and also because his daughter has in- sisted that he must not make any. more personal attacks on Mr. Fuller. ' But they were political enemies now, and the truce was at an end. Tom Darkmore commenced the onslaught in a sly, nice manner, accusing his rival of being a poor wretch, who couldn’t pay his notes. Franklin Fuller retorted by saying that he would sooner “be buried in a pauper’s grave than live to ride in his carriage with wealth purchased with the sighs of the widow and the orphan.” And so the battle went on, growing more and more bitter every day, as the election approached. The editor of the Beagle was seated at his desk, writing a scathing article against his rival, the sanctum, saying: “Another kick, editor.” “What's the matter now, Disher?” _ “The two jours demand an advance of five cents more a thousand, and——” $ “Sack them, and get. other hands—the wretches! : won’t pay it.” “And Bob, your son, wants full jour’s wages, also, sir.” “The ungrateful scoundrel! ‘T’m sorry I didn’t let gar lug ‘him off to: prison, when he got into that scrape last year.” -“He says he'll clear. off to the city if you don’t give it, sir. * “Let him clear —hang him. He'll soon fetch up in Sing A, ‘Sing. wo “And Terry says he must have five cents adivaricas sir,” con- ; tinued the foreman. ‘The editor bounced up from a chair, his eyes glaring with ‘rage, aS he cried: 3 Terrie Bie EI vile. conspiracy to rob me, Disher, and I’ll stop the paper before ru stand iti. suppose you want an advance, also?” Sept “That’s just what I do wart, “Mr. Darkmore, and no mis- take, Fuller’s foreman has just left him, and he’s offered “me the sit, with three dollars advance over what you're giving me.” ~ “You can all go to Jericho! # yelled the angry man. “I'll Disher, all hanged——”. ~ “Benson and Perkins—two old go}dicne—awvear they’ll take “the stump against you,” interrupted the ageravating Disher, unless you come ‘down. “It will have a fine. effect for. Fuller with ‘the workingmen in the district to have two of your hands’ going: about telling that you ‘wouldn’t pay them as "well as him—after you calling him’ a poor wretch that can’t meet his notes.” pt ‘ ; “They. can go to thunder, and say what they itke! * cried the /angry editor. “I can buy up all the votes I want, but I on’t be bluffed in ‘this way.” ” “Then you won't come down, sir?” ‘Not one cent more.” ; : ae it's. a hae tick, ‘Mr. Darisnore, 4 . vas ’ - Kf : You.can get anal SS oe when the foreman entered | | you do; for I have Merle, in most of the great cities of get hands in the eity—I'll get up ‘patent’ insides—I’ll gee you}, the strike for fair wages, old man?” demanded Disher. 7 left him. in a hole at t atime when his So y tal rons of ite ce hat aan’ on Peed And the infuriated man slammed the door after his foreman, as he uttered fierce oaths and threats against his employes. | “This is a put-up job.of Fuller’s,” he hissed. “He's bought up Disher, after the way~I have treated him. And my own son, too—curse him! Oh, to think that I committed a great crime to make him a rich man hereafter. But he ian have a cent of my money. I'll leave it all to Jennie.” The foreman, with the two jours and the two apprentice were marching out im a body, leaving the devil alone in composing room, when they encountered Jennie at the door. Rat “What's the matter now, Disher?” inquired the young girl. oe A big Kick for’ more ees Ng i “We’ Ne: all struck, Miss Jennie. wages.” “Do you think it’s just fair to strike now, Disher, when father isa candidate for office—to take him at a disad——"”.: 9 “We asked him for an advance often before, Miss Jennie,” said the one-armed printer, “and he wouldn't give it. We'll show him up now.” “The Gazette is paying. what we ask,” corn | gas Josh Pe kins, “and ’tis only fair.” “T think you are all acting in an unkind, ungenerous ‘nat ner,” said the spirited girl, “to force father to pay ‘you an ad-— vance now, when he’s running for office. Why didn’t you strike and leave before, when he refused ‘you? Father mi not be the most generous man in the world, but he has always paid you promptly when he agreed, and you should not turn on him now. I’m glad he has refused you. I’m glad ‘he has” spirit enough to defy. you, if he’s never elected. ae ashamed ua of you.” y The foreman felt the rebuke keenly, but before he is reply, a husky voice behind the young girl, eried out: “Those are sound. sentiments, YOunE lady, and 1’ stand to your father in the strike.” ; The printers and the young girl turned to the speaker, ‘an they saw that he was an old man, with gray hair and beard, and wearing spectacles. The stranger’s. well-worn summer suit told of weary eavate . over dusty roads; an old straw hat covered hig venerable head, while his Lipper were held together by strings a thongs. cae “Who in thunder are you?” demanded the striking for man, as he glared angrily. at the old customer. Sy “An old tramp printer,” was the husky reply, looking for a job.” : vs “You'll get your head proke, you old abou? eried the D \ nacious Terry, “if you offer to rat it while we! Te On the strike. “Pll risk all that, young feller,” replied ‘the old t “lm not a rat, and I know the rules of the trade better 1 I “and Tm union.” i “Do you call it square to- take the sit of a man aang “When did. you, demand aoe mayange?! Bias the: old Bs teas. } E “Not ten minutes ae roptien Disher. “And do you eall it square to walk right out oti an noftieg! on ten minutes’ notice?” ae the old man, with a smil the old east continued: Ka “T am hard UD, and I do want ‘work, but wo “You. “Be as
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old man. ape BEN BREVIER. 9 “Hands off, young feller, or ay ‘Il be sorry,” remonstrated the old fellow. . “Get out, you old loafer,” cried Terry, as he éontinuelt to push the stranger. “If you wasn’t so old, l’d Kick the head off you.” : “I’m young enough to lick half a dozen like you,” cried the old stranger, as he let fly out at his assailant, hitting him be- tween the eyes. “Serve you right, Terry,” cried Jennie, as the young rascal measured his length on the sidewalk. “Come in to father, We'll get out the paper somehow, for I can set type.” “Terry was dazed for some moments, as he stared at the old stranger, While his companions gaye vent to loud burats of Jaughter at his expense. “The old. man is a bruiser,” cried Black Bob; Terry out of time in one round.” “he knocked Terry sprang to his feet, uttering a bitter sisi and rushed]: at the old tramp, crying: ‘ “Vl mash the whole head off the old rat. I'l——” - Out went the old tramp’s right hand, and down went Terry again, his head striking the hard pavement. “Don’t call me a rat again, or I'll hurt you badly, young feller,” he cried, “Now, get up and apologize, or——” “Kili the old snoozer, fellows,” cried Black Bob, as he} sprang on the old man from behind and struck him on the back of the head. } ‘The blow was a wicked one, and it sent ine old printer staggering against the side of the house; but he recovered himself on the instant, = turned to face his new assailant, aside. ‘the old printer. as the foreman sang out: “Hold on, Bob. ave against one ‘ain\ it a fair shake nohow, ‘and he an old man.’ “Tig a shame,” cried Jennie, as she pushed. her “brother “Come in with me,.old man.” “Not till Pve licked this young feller first, miss,” replied “He struck me foul, and I’m going to give him three for it.” — Ng : “Won't you stand to me, fellers?” cried the cowardly Bob, as the old man made for him. “Terry—Terry, hitch in with me.” The “fellers” responded by shouts of derision, as the old : printer, after planting three rattling blows on the coward’s ” face, sent him flying into the office; Ene Terry did not move from the pavement. “Terry is knocked out of, time,” cried Disher. “Hanged if | you hayen’t stunned him, old man.” “Had no business to call me a rat,” replied the tramp. “Guess he’ll soon be all right.” of! for a pillow, Jack Jones “bunked it” on the folding ta’ But Terry was not all right, as he had struck his head on “the pavement when the old fellow knocked him down, and] - there wasn’t a stir in him when the. seen bent down to assist him. 2 ‘ “Help me to get hind asiho the “office,” said ‘Disher, as a erowd gathered oreies the door. “You're a- sedulhr “Old bruiser, stranger.” The’ editor had watched hawt encounter ‘from, the window 4 muttered: ‘ m sorry the old. fellow didn’t lick the’ “whole eiowd: pre mise with them until after’ the eS and then | milk and a roll for breakfast, crackers and cheese Ww ‘per, constituted his daily diet. as Aes Is “Guess I can take my part,” replied ‘the old brintes, as he| but when two weeks had Fess they bat that he w : assisted Disher in bearing the miserable fellow into the of his sanctum, and as he saw Terry oe. into the office, he, | store, was always amply repaid for the extra trou Tn | generosity, 9a: 4 x8 The old tramp was put on in his ‘place, Tom Darkmore hav- ing compromised with hig hands, by acceding to their de- mands for the time. On the very night of the old tramps appearance in the town, Pete Clayton, he Cleveland detective, entered the Beagle sanctum, and the officer’s left arm was in a sling. “Hello, Clayton,” cried Tom Darkmore, as he welcomed the detective. “Have you come on to give me a lift in the election? What’s the matter with your arm, man?” The detective closed the door, ere he replied in a low yoice: “I came on here, Tom Darkmore, to kill or capture Ben Revier.” iets = “Ben Revier!” gasped the editor. dead these two years!” —. “He’s alive and kicking. I saw him in Cleveland one week ago, and he shot me in the arm here, while aiming at my heart, when I tried to arrest him.” “Great goodness, Clayton, ’'m a ‘ruined man if he- comes here again; and just before the election at that,” groaned Tom Darkmore. “He will come here,” said the detective, in deerage tones. “Has he learned the secret of his birth?” inquired the editor, “Pmiafraid he has—for he’s on the trail, as sure as death.” “Then we, must kill him, Clayton, or he'll ruin me and kill you,” hissed the editor. “That’s what I came on here for,” said the tall detective. “We must make sure of him this time, for I tell you he’s no slouch to deal with, as he near fetched me.” “Great goodness, he’s CHAPTER VI. | are JENNIE RECEIVES A SHOCK. The old tramp—who called himself Jack Jones—turned out, to be an excellent printer. In fact, he was a regular “ rusher.” He could set more type in a day than the two cripples; he worked with a graceful, easy motion that was not wearying; | : and he made very few mistakes—a splendid Suvi ooh i for anyone engaged in the “art preservative.” F Before Jack Jones was employed in the’ office three dayd, the foreman and the other hands, had him down as Phe: queer Dick,” “a strange customer,” and “a regular character.” ‘The foreman offered to recommend him to a boarding house; but, saying that his wardrobe was not in good trim, he r | quested permission to sleep in the office, as he was accustomed s ‘to roughing it. 2 ; With sore old mailbags for a bed and a fanaa) of papers — He did not indulge in whisky or tobacco; and sim deed, was the food he consumed to sustain. life, as a raw tomatoes for dinner, with peaches and crackers .f At first, the hands in the office regarded fifmm’ 93.2 a than liberal with his earnings. - Jack Jones did not spend his money in the clothe gave freely to every poor tramp who passed along; “devil,” who brought him his humble food from th the poor woman who washed. his. shirts lessed him es ase the. old ‘tramp, | though never ‘speaking of hig. tai ¥ -alwa tell:
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10 BEN BREVIER. ar charm about the tones that attracted the listeners; and it] “One word more,” whispered Ben, into his ear, as he saw was noted that he always spoke in kindly tones of the poor|the young girl watching them in the entry, “and I’ll fire!” — | tramps he had encountered in his ramblings. “What’s the matter, Mr. Clayton?” cried Jennie, as she : Jennie Darkmore was strangely attracted to the old fellow;|saw that the detective was a bound Fy: “Who is this and the spirited girl, who was then in the dAwn of womanly} young man?” ~ beauty, would stand at his case for hours, chatting with him “I’m an officer-from ‘the west, young lady,” replied Bene and listening to the accounts of his travels. “and this. is my——” Tom Darkmore did not take much notice of the old printer, “Gracious!” gasped the young girl, as she stared at? th as he was very busy with the election, as well ag uneasy about| young fellow. “’Tis ihe young man I saw ‘drowning | t his. young enemy; but the stingy man did remark on pay years ago. What mystery is this, Mr. Clayton? oy days, that the “old fellow made very large bills.” lieve my eyes. Help—father! ‘Mr. Jones—help!” On the night before election day, Tom: Darkmore and the While Jennie was uttering these cries, the young “fee Cleveland detective were seated in the sanctum, and engaged, was forcing his prisoner out into the dark street, still hold- ’ In earnest conversation. ing the revolver at his head, as he hissed into his ear: They could hear the old printer snoring away on his rude “One word, and you're a /fdead. man! It’s my turn at Jai bed in the composing room, while on the street a band of| you infernal wretch!” * music was playing to attract voters to a political meeting, Ere the young fellow had gained the street with his prisoner, held in fayor of the editor of the Beagle. Jennie had sank insensible in the hall, as the excited girl he=~ “You're sure he’s in town, Clayton?” inquired the nervous] lieved that she saw the ghost of the young lad who was mur- editor. “Maybe he has some friend here who sent you a dered in the river by the detective. letter.” When the young girl opened her eyes again, she was s ate “I’m sure he’s here himself. He’s not the fellow to trust| on a chair in her father’s sanctum, and the old printer, anyone With his business. He's in town watching us and pre-| Jones, was ‘bending over her, inquiring, in a hoarse voic i paring for a deadly fight,” replied the detective. “What scared you so, Miss Jennie? I heard you ‘yell, “Then he must be eid disguised, Clayton, or he must} woke up out of my sleep, to find you Ayling & in a faint in the be in hiding.” hall.” ~ “More than likely hag disguised. Oh, I tell you we have je “Ay not a fool to deal with—hear that old fellow snore?” ETERS “Yes—yes;-but what can we do? He tells you in that: let- ter that. he’s going right to work at us. We must get at him cd CHAPTER ii 8 first. We must kill him. Will you come down and hear me ; speak, and we'll talk about this fellow after?” ; STRANGE REVELATIONS. “Pm played out chasing that ‘young skunk up,” replied the he detectve. “I'll rest here and think until you come back.” The young girl stared at the old punter for some sg hens ‘The nervous editor left the office to hasten away to the] ere she stamméred forth: meeting, and the detective rested his head on the desk to} “I was awfully frightened, Mr. Jones, I saw a ghost! oe 4 “think—and to sleep. “Saw a ghost, Miss Jennie! Why, you look like a ghos ‘And the old printer was still snoring away on his hard bed} yourself. What is the matter, dear young lady?” xa in the composing room. “You are laughing at me, Mr. Jones,” pouted Jennie. : “But 1 , Ten minutes. after the wary detective was left alone in the] tel] you I did see a ghost. You remember my telling you about ‘sanctum, a tall young fellow entered the room with stealthy the poor young fellow who was Shor. down in the river?” . steps, and approached the sleeping officer. “I do, Miss Jennie.” a _A grim smile was on that mild young face, as the blue eyes} “Well, sir, as sure as you eerie there before me now E saw - were bent on the sleeper; and then a heavy club was raised) his ghost a short time ago, and he was spiriting away: the man ) to fall with stunning effect on the weary detective's head,| who shot him. You’ve seen Mr. Clayton—father’s friend - ‘on knocking him from the chair to the floor ‘of the sanctum, Cleveland?” fs When. the dark-faced detective. opened his eyes again, his| “The detective, Miss Jennie?” By hands were bound behind him, and that mild-faced youth was| “Yes, the detective,” replied the young girl. “He tg ile standing over him, holding his own reyolver to the half- -bound like a prisomer, and he led him out of this office inte dazed inane head, as he uttered the pala i the hall, where I met them. You heard me call out?” : a3 _ Speak one word, Pete Clayton—offer to taise a single cry,| “It woke me up, Miss Pointe: and I ran out to find you lyin ‘and you'are’a dead man! You know me; you know I’m| senseless in the hall outside there.’ But about the baths: ‘ “desperate; you know you deserve death at my hands. Come} “You don’t believe in ghosts,-Mr, Jones?” « with me.” : “I can’t say that I do, Miss Jennie.” “What are you up to, Ben Revier?” gasped the defeated “T don’t, either, sir,” said the girl, as she sprang to. he ; Se you going to murder, me?” and confronted the old» man with flashing eyes. 5 | you are yery smart, but you can’t deceive: me.” s “What do you mean, Miss Jennie?” inquired the al printer mg man’s reply. — “You: know what I'm pier: Cane with as he met the indignant girl's penetrating. eyes. ; t nd ‘you are a dead man if you say a word as we go}. “What do I mean? You know | well ee what 1 Come, I say, or Pll kill you now! 3 etective saw death in that bright weapon, and in the ng blue eyes ‘before him, and, brave man though he was, rose from De floor and: walked betore his captor. towards h
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BEN then, Miss Jennie,” faltered the betrayed lad, al the young girl with admiring eyes. - Of course I know you, Ben Brevier. . 4 very first.” ( e very first, Miss Jennie, and you didn’t betray me?” “why should I betray you, unfortunate young man? I pitied you the first day you came to the office two years ago, and f - almost cried for you—yes, I did ery—when I thought you were _ Shot in the river.” “Then you won’t betray me now, Miss Jennie?” pleaded Ben, ~ as he attempted to seize the young girl’s hand. “I will betray you—I’ll denounce you,” cried Jennie, as she drew back, “unless you tell mé what you mean to do.” _ The young man looked at the girl for a few moments, and he asked himself this question ere he returned a reply: “Can I trust her, fighting against her father, as Tam? No— no, she would betray me, if she knew I intended his exposure and ruin: I'll have to fool her somehow.” ba Jennie noticed the young man’s thoughtful face, as she cried: " *Now, you are trying to inyent some story, to put me off—to _ tell me lies. Young man, if you are wise you will tell me the truth, and answer my questions candidly. Trust to Lethe and Pd you'll not regret it.” ; “i “] will trust to you, Miss Jennie,” raenrnee Ben, in earnest ; tones. “Now, ask me what you like about myself.” “In the first place, then, when you first came to this town, you had an object in coming here, and you were not as poor and hungry as you pretended?” 4 “I was poor and hungry, Miss Jennie,” replied Ben. “TI had only escaped from the Ohio prison a few weeks before. I had an object in coming to this town.” i “What was that object?” demanded Jenniey jell Wes find the man who had robbed me of my property—the I knew was the bitter reply, as Ben clenched his hands. _ “Murdered your mother? Robbed you of your property?” exclaimed Jennie. “Yes, Miss Jennie. And the same villains tried to murder me, by accusing me of.a crime that I am as innocent of as you are. skunk, Pete Clayton.” BREVIER, “What has my father to do with it, young cian? demanded Jennie, as her face grew deathly pale. ceive me. I will find out the whole truth. Beware, if you er to injure my father.” ; “Injure your father?” returned Ben, in passionate tones. Young lady, l’m sorry to say, for your sake, that he is a! end—a scoundrel of the worst kind. I’m going to crush him | I’m going to expose him! Yl not rest until I have avenged | ay wrongs on him, for he is the author of them all. Oh, Miss | skunk, Pete Clayton, fired at me. I soon managed to hide on the other side, in the weeds.” “And now you are back here to try and crush my father?” continued the agitated girl. “What did you do with Mr. Clay- ton to-night, when you forced him from here, after chloroform- ing me? You are very smart, ain’t you?” A slight smile passed over the young man’s face, as he re- plied:. » ” “Then you know that I chloroformed you, Miss Ssapiiie? Well, I didn’t mean to injure you; but I am fighting against terrible enemies, and I cannot stand on ceremony,” “Where is Mr. Clayton now?” ee Jennie, in resolute ~ tones. “T cannot answer you, Miss Jennie. He is my prisoner at present. If I had not got the best of him he would kill me. |The world is too small to hold the two of us.” “Then you mean to murder him—murder my father?” “I mean to hold Pete Clayton until I can prove murder against him, Miss Jennie; and then I will hang him, as he tried to do to me, I mean to make your father suffer for his crimes, ‘and compel him to: give me back my property.” ms The young man fixed his expressive, determined eyes on the young girl, as he uttered these words, and she realized once and for all that there was no “back-down” in him; shat he would pursue her father to the bitter end.. The young girl felt that there was some truth in his asser-~ tions, but she could not bring herself to believe that her- father was the scoundrel thus pictured; and she was deter- © mined to save him from the vengeance of the young man. “You say, Miss Jennie, that you don’t believe what I tel you about your father?” “Why should I? Do you think I’m eiaay? He has been the = : : best of fathers to. me. He is kind and good to mother.” ue “Tf you should hear your father confess to all that I charge ‘ . fiend who had incited another to murder my poor mother!” | him with,” inquired Ben, “would you believe me then? Would — you blame meé—oppose me in trying to crush him?”, “That is out of the question,” returned Jennie, with an indig- nant toss of the head. “My father confess to such crimes!” “T promise you—I swear to you—Miss Jennie,” returned. the young man, “that you will hear the confession from his own — zs ; I haven’t time to tell you the particulars now, as your | lips, and this very night, if you will but do as I ask you?” ather will soon be back from the meeting, to look for the | “What is that?” demanded Jennie. . ; “Just go into the composing room, and wait there until he tae : } comes, “Don’t attempt to de- | | Clayton. He'll be alone, and I'll mect him here.” He'll soon be back from the meeting, to. see Pete “Who and what are yeu; Eaenore inquired the young sin AS abruptly. “I am your own cousin, Miss Jennie. My mother—my x mur Z dered mother—was your father’s sister.” — “Then you are the cousin in Ohio that I heard about’ ied I was a little girl. I heard that you were dead, and that" ; “I hear your father’s footsteps on the street, Miss Jennie,” __ Jennie, it goes to my heart to thinic he is your father!” ‘continued the young man, as he pushed his coun. int the a “The JOE girl was appalled for the moment at this fiery | printing office, while he Se ty disguise, 3 "paternal feelings, and she rejoined in dcteentine’ tones, wees Disher’s desk, atid you can hear all that passes between _her expressive eyes flashed with indignation: ; eae | : *¥ou. are a lying, sneaking rascal, so you are, and I don’t elieye a word you say against my father. He may be close i ne money. matters, but he is an honest man; and I will not : believe a word you say against him. Ben Brevier, or whatever ne may be, don’t forget that you have mé to deal Ww th als while plotting against my father. You injure him— pfter/to touch him, and 1’! kill you. How did e river that’ day? ‘Answer me that, and h et Tt won't do.” atte | Believe. me, but woe won’t think 80 bad of ae an hour from now. ty o “Tf you injure my father—innocent or guilty—Pn neve give you, cousin,” whispered Jennie, as footsteps were heard. in the hall. “Ob, Ben, remember he is’ my father. 1 like your from the moment I first saw you.” mee 2 - “And T loved you, Jennie+dearly loved you~ you were so kind to me—the poo friend you now, Jennie. I will love A ee of t hand, ‘a fer and ole”
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ae : ; A few moments later, and Tom Darkmore was heard in his office, muttering aloud: “ “What in the mischief has become of Pete Clayton? He promised to wait here for me. I feel terribly worried about that young scoundrel to-night. Hear that old fellow snor- ing! Perhaps Clayton left some word with him. Jones, I say, Jones. Wake up, old fellow, and come in here.” CHAPTER VIII. A FEARFUL DENUNCIATION. “Did you call’ me, sir?” “To be sure I called you. Why weren’t you down at the meeting? All the other hands were there, and we had a rous- ing meeting.” ‘“T worked hard to-day, Mr. Darkmore, and I felt like sleep- ing. I am an old man, you know, and I need rest,” returned the pretended old jour, in his hoarse tones. “tum—ha—yes. You make very big bills for an old man. ’ Did you see what became of my friend, Mr. Clayton? Did he leave any word for me? Thunders, this office is all upset. “There’s been a row here. Didn’t you hear anything going on here during'the past hour? What kind of an old arene head are you?” “I did hear a row going on in here, but I didn’t think ’twas my business to interfere,” replied the disguised lad, as he bent his keen eyes on the suspicious man. “A young fellow come in here and tackled your friend, Mr. Clayton.” _ “The thunder you say. And Clayton -took him off a prisoner, of course. That's good—that’s right good news. The cheek “of the scoundrel coming to my office.” “He did seem to be a cheeky kind of a young fellow,” re: | man. . Sponded the pretended old man, in sarcastic tones, “for he lugged: your friend off as a prisoner.” : rai “What!” yelled ‘Tom Darkmnore. “Are you crazy, old man? The young rascal lugged my friend, Mr. Clayton, the detective from Ohio, off as a. prisoner! You were dreaming, old man!” oO “Nary dream, sir. I saw the young fellow lug your big friend away with him, a pistol to his head, and his arms bound fast behind him. And the last words the young fellow said was that he’d come back here to meet you. He told me to tell - you so.” , - “Thunder and lightning!” gasped the terror-stricken man, as. he fidgeted about his desk, “and I haven’t got my revolver here. You can fight, old man. Stand to me to kill that young ~ rascal, and I’ll make it all right for you. He's an escaped convict from Ohio—in — murder. Have you got a pistol?” “T never carry one, sir.” “Thunders! what will we do? Just step into the house and get mine. Jennie ‘will ‘give it to you. I daren’t leave here. t Lock the door after you. Don’t say anything to Jennie about | ‘t this ‘young fellow./ Just tell her I want the pistol, as Pil be out late electioneering, Great Cesar! I knew that Aomproine was going to happen to mo to-night.” ‘ i The last sentence was uttered . as the disguised. ‘Beti. was: vate from the eed and as bas disturbed man wailed iv ere’s no use ib falteine * he copied! speaking loud Souk ard by his. agite ted: daughter. BEN BREVIER. -|loud word—call out—and the reckoning ‘will be short, “But there's: no ty) i Pete Clayton? ’Twouldn’t be his game to— man? Got the shooter?” “I have,” was the reply from the hall, and in “Who in the thunder is that? Great goodness fellow himself!” “Yes, Mr. Darkmore,” replied Ben, as he ente without any disguise, and presenting his revolver at head. “I am here to settle old accounts with you. “Do you mean to’ murder me, then?” gasped man, as he sank back in his chair and stared up at his “I came here to serve you as I have already served lain, Pete Clayton,” was the stern reply. “He is my J now. He will be hung before he is much older. me, sir. You are my prisoner.” “Your prisoner!” gasped Tom Darkmiore, “What am cused of, young fellow? You are going too fast. You ¢ prove anything against me. TI will defy you.” : A scornful laugh burst from Ben as he drew nearer to uncle, and still presenting the revolver at his head. : “You are in a bad box, and you feel it already, uncle. Knc at once, then, that Pete Clayton has confessed all to me. “Confessed!” groaned the miserable man. “What has’ he confessed?” Fee “He has confessed, and I have it in writing under his signa-— ture, that you paid him two thousand dollars for taking my poor mother to a lunatic asylum in Ohio, so that you could get t hold of her property. He has——” “Tis a lie,” cried Tom ears wie “T never knew wy man ; until——”» *?, ean “Until you met him; when he was a gambler, on the Ohio : river,” interrupted Ben, with a sneering smile. “But. I can” stand here fooling all night, and you must come with me. “What do you mean to do with me?” gasped the ee “J mean to force you ‘to give up all the property you Pale from me. I mean to make you confess that you murdere my poor mother; by sending her to a lunatic asylum, ' and break. ing her heart, when she was as sound of mind as you were I mean to make you ‘suffer for driving me an orphan on the 4 world; and then, when I found a good friend and protector, getting that scoundrel, Pete Clayton, to murder the good old man, and charging me with the crime. 1 mean——” Tih “Qh, mercy!” gasped Tom Darkmore; “ ‘you tTaust have § merey. I will make amends for all I did to you. TI will restore your property. Don’t expose me, for my. family’s sake, man. Just think, the election is coming ae to-morr My poor Jennie, my darling girl, will. break ou aa ieee young man,.for her sake!” f And poor Jennie, at that iienk was sobbing. as if her heart was agin e é : i “Confess nothing,” ‘véllod ahoities vile. at the. office. “Vl fetch you this time, you young hou oa Jennie heard that _ Sere. voice; et oy she hear | report of a poh ie , , Son
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* enemies. seizing his daughter. - : Jerusalem, if it ain’t a real ghost! gi You, can appear again in you old disguise, a BEN BREVIER. 43 dealt him a blow in the face with the barrel of his eerenys at the same time. In the meantime, Tom Darkmore, gaining courage from the presence of his powerful ally, was clutching the young man by the throat and endeavoring to drag him down on the chair, while Ben, half dazed by a wound on the forehead from the detective’s revolver, offered but little or no resistance. Jennie stood at the door for a few moments, her eyes glaring with indignation, and her beautiful young face as pale as death, as she watched the unequal struggle. “Shame, father, shame! ” she cried, at length, as she sprang forward and seized her parent’s hand, pushing the detective rudely aside at the same moment. “Would you murder the young man, and he your sister’s child? ‘Touch him again, you scoundrel, and J’ll shoot you.” ° Jennie snatched the revolver from the hands of the half- dazed iad as she uttered these words, and presented it full 7 the detective’s face. “Go into the house, Jennie, and mind your own business,” eried her father, as Ben sank on the chair, “If you say a word about what you heard to-night, ’ll—” “TY don’t care what you do, eruel father,” cried the young girl,.as she bent over the wounded lad and endeavored to stop the flow ‘of blood by pressing her handkerchief to his fore- head. “Are you much hurt, poor fellow. You are not going to die—are you?” ' “Not much,” eried Ben, springing up and confronting his “I was only knocked out of time for a moment. Let me ‘have that pistol, and bless you. Ha, Pete Clayton, I’m ready for you now, you infernal skunk.” “Stand aside, girl, till I shoot hiny down like a dog!” cried the detective. “You stand aside, girl, or I’ll have te give you -a dose of lead.” “Don’t you dare to do it, Clayton,” cried Tom Darkmore, “Get home, I say, Jennie. I’m a ruined, disgraced man if that young wretch conquers. He must die!” At that moment footsteps were heard in nee entry, and then a voice sang out: “Hallo, what*is all this row ‘about? Choke me to death if there ain’t the devil what was shot and drowned in the river! Look, Bob!” *- And Terry Malin and Bob Darkmore stood at the office door, Staring at Ben and the others. Once glance from Jennie at the newcomers told fie that Ben had two‘more enemies to contend with, and quick as thought, she flung her arms around the hunted lad, as she “~~ forced him back to the window, while she whispered into his ear:: hem all now. and they won't recognize you. I'll be your friend i kb as I’m sure aioe ve -“Bseape by the, window. You cannot fight _ been wronged.” « _ Ben spr ang out of the ‘imine while Jennie covered his re- treat by placing herself A Rgtane it, as she cried out to Terry and her. brother: : f “Don’t you offer to follow ih. or he'll shoot you down like |. > dogs. “Don’t touch .me, sir, or V’ll dash” that lamp in “your face.” Shut that door, Terry. You, Bob, stay where you are, “Curse the girl!” yelled the “detective, ‘as he endeavored to} pon Jennie from the window, in: order to coley Ben. ok _| blow,” grumbled Terry, as he listened to the cries. And then the heed man was out through the window like a flash. Jennie looked tral him for a moment, and saw him run- ning along the street, while they could all hear his cries of: “Murder—murder! Stop thief! Police—police!” “Choke me if I don’t get even with that big loafer for that “What is the row, anyhow, Miss Jennie? Thunder, the boss is a goner!” Jennie turned to her father, and she uttered a cry of alarm as she saw that he had sunk insensible on the editorial chair. “Run and get some water, Terry,” she said. “You, Bob, send for the doctor. Mind, and don’t tell anyone what happened here. Poor father is awfully excited over the election.” In the meantime, the detectives’ cries had aroused all the people in the neighborhood, and in less than ten minutes a hundred men,-including the police, were out in search of the escaped conviet—the convicted murderer, When Tom Darkmore opened his eyes again, ‘fie was still reclining on the arm-ehair in his office, and the doctor was Standing at his side, while his son and daughter, with Terry, Fred Disher, and the old jour were watching him. “You'll soon be all right now, Mr. Darkmore,” said the ‘doe- tor. “Too much excitement altogether in this election.” — “Yes—yes,” muttered Darkmore, as he stared from his. daughter to the others, until his eye rested on the pretended old jour. “Where’s that pistol I sent you for, you old fool?” Jennie and the disguised youth eh ales sare expressive ; glances, ere Ben replied: “I met with an accident, sir.” “An. accident, How’s that?” And the editor bent a suspicious look on his journeyman, as he thought to himself: “Vl bet a hundred to one. this old fraud is in league with : the young wretch.” “As I was going out to get the revolver,” replied the vale. guised Ben, “I struck against a young fellow and he knocked See where he hit me kiting under the stoop with Hi slungshot. me’ on the forehead.” And the disguised lad pointed to the wound on his forehead, * where the ball from Pete Clayton’s weapon had torn bio venues es which was now covered with court-plaster, “Where's Clayion? manded the editor, springing up from his chair. “Here I am, Mr. Darkmore,” cried the flushed detective. = “We have been chasing him all over Halloo, old fel- rushing into the office. “a : the town, and we can’t find a trace of him. low, what's the matter with your head?” — Tho detective turned abruptly on the disguised lad "as is asked this question; and Jennie trembled like a coward as she ¢ saw that the man’s keen eyes were fastened on her - young cousin, “T got knocked over,” sir,” replied Ben, in his iat yononees “by a young fellow what I struck against out there, and——” “you'll. get knocked over again, you infernal fraud! & ‘cried the enraged detective, as he: rushed at the disguised lad. “And so Will you, you darned loafer!” yelled Terry, as | sprang on the detective with a heavy mallet. “Pve oe a faying for you, I have, and TOW: we're square. ao ¥/ pe le Did he kill the young scoundrel?” ae
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RY 14 out, and slip into our house—into my room—uwntil I go in, _ Haste—haste, before he denounces you!” th Jennie pushed him out into the hall while she tendered this advice, and her father had seized and was struggling with Terry at the moment. The detective was half-stunned by the blow from Terry's mallet, but he could still comprehend what was passing around him, and he cried: “Grab that old fellow, Darkmore. loafer!” “Til take your advice, Jennie,” muttered Ben, as he slipped out into the street. “Never you mind, but I'll rig up a dis- guise he won’t detect me in. I’m bound to lick the skunk, or I'll die trying.” Curse you for a young CHAPTER X. BAFFLING THE ENEMY. “They are hunting for you all over town, Ben, and the detec- tive swears he’ll shoot you the moment he catches you.” “Be it so, Jennie. You can bet your life 1 not turn away from him.” “I do think it would be better for you to go away for the present. You surely don’t mean to prosecute father, if I can prevail on him to set you right?” “T will let up on him, Jennie—for your sake—but he must let up on me. As for Pete Clayton, ’tis war to the death be- ' tween us forever. I’m bound to hang him.” The foregoing conversation occurred in Jennie’s room, where the anxious girl Was endeavoring to coax her cousin to fly the town, and while her father and the determined detec- ‘ tive were chasing him high and low. - Though’ Jennie was convinced that her father had com- “mitted 4 great crime, ‘yet, like. a devoted daughter, she was 5 resolved on saving him from disgrace by compelling him to -disgorge his ill-gotten. wealth, em thereby winning Ben to " gilence. She was well aware that Ben loved her, and that he would forego vengeance on her father for her sake; but she dreaded _ the young fellow encountering the detective, and she feared the bad man’s influence over her father. Ben knew that Pete Clayton would not let up on him; and he was resolved on fighting the battle out to the bitter end, even though death or imprisonment threatened him. _ And now the trouble was—how could he crush the detective and drag him back to Cleveland without exposing Jennie’s Lager It was not Ben's purpose to kill Pete Clayton without first Satins his own’ innocence, Which he intended to do by com- pelling the man to. confess his guilt, and in the presence of, witnesses. . LAP _ With this in view, the ‘young man had foreed the detective into an, old deserted shanty, when he succeeded in capturing gf urease the early part of the might; but Pete Clayton burst | the dining room with me? flashed with a Sapiens light, as she turned to the ais eZ saying: | into the dining room. Terry, you stand here at the head of the stairs and don't allow anyone else to come down.” — father and Pete Clayton, and there was a peculiar e on her face, as she commenced her questions. Clayton? a BEN BREVIER. Nees she was insisting on aiding him in the matter on condition that ee Looe he should leave the town. - “If you remain here, Ben, you will either get killed yourself, or you will bring sad trouble on father,” she continued. “Why, can't you get away—follow Mr, Clayton back to Cleveland, and punish him there, without getting father into the ‘serape at all?” “Yes, and I’d have your father and Pete Clayton on my. track on the instant, Jennie, unless you can manage to scare him well, he’llpbe advised by Clayton and never let up on mo till I am back in prison or dead. vou know he is too ‘fond of money to——” “jJennie—Jennie,” sang out her father, tron. the hall below, “Yes, father,” returned the young girl. “Hide in that closet, Ben. They’ll never think of looking for you there.” And Jennie darted out of the room, while Ben entered the closet. As the young girl left the room aoe open, the fugitive could hear the editor's voice as he commenced at Jennie. “Jennie,” he said, “we have hunted for that young scoun- drel all over town; and Terry there says that he saw him enter at the back here, when he ran out of the office. Can he be hiding in this house?” “That is simply ridiculous, father,” replied Jennie, as se fixed her bright eyes on the detective. “Wiéill you step down to I do so want to speak to you in ¥\ t private, father.” Baas ee The keen-eyed detective saw at once that Jennie knew more than she pretended, and as he feared her influence over. her father, he was eager to hear what she had to say. “Want to speak to me in private, Jennie?” returned her father, as he looked at Pete Clayton; “this gentleman is my— — 5 my——” u “Evil genius, father!” whispered Jennie, drawing him aside. : i “Il am your father’s confidential friend,” said the detective, 2 “If you have anything to. as he attempted to follow them. tell him about this young scoundrel, it is important for me. to hear it.” Jennie hesitated for a moment, and looked from one to the other ere she- replied. The young girl was meditating a bold maneuver, whereby to bluff the detective, force him from the pursuit of Ben, and” 3g thereby save her father and her cousin at the same time. Her brother Bob and Terry were standing in the hall re- < garding her with suspicious eyes, while her mother, who » was somewhat of an invalid, was reclining on an easy chair in the : front sitting room. Jennie knew that she could force Terry to do ber bidding, even though he was compelled to assist his old enemy; but she did not dare to trust her treacherous brother, who hated _ her on account of the influence she pees over her ster) iar ambitious father. A bright flush swept over Jennie’s face, and hee eyes “You can hear what I have to say to father, sir. Come dow. oie A few moments after, and the devoted girl was facing | “You think the young man is Paige. in this house, ‘ * j a
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BEN. BREVIER, 15 “You are right, sir, young man; and I will befriend him while I live. heard every word that passed between you and him while you were in the office. I was sitting at Disher’s desk.” “The thunders you were, Jennie,” growled her father, as he scowled at his child. “This is a nice fix, Clayton.” “What did you hear, Miss Jennie?” inquired the detective, with a lowering brow. “T heard father confess that he had foully wronged my cousin. I heard him declare that he would make all the amends in his power; and I feel satisfied that Ben is as inno- cent of the crime charged against him as Iam. He asserts, sir, that you murdered his old friend, and. I believe him. There!” And Jennie’s flashing eyes encountered the detective’s scowl- ing brows; while her father, shocked and stunned, cowered before her. Pete Clayton’s voice was hoarse With passion, and his hands were clutched nervously, as he strode towards the young girl, crying: _ “Beware, young lady, how you insult me. Your father is in ‘my power. One word from me, and he will be a begear—a conyict—a gallows’ bird! I see: that you are soft on this young villain. You cannot save him, for I have sworn to kill. him or drag him back to prison. And I have made up my mind to do more than that.” As the detective uttered the, last words he bent his eyes on the fearless girl, and there was an expression therein at the moment that could not be mistaken. “What do you mean, sir?” cried the fearless Jennie, meeting the stowling detective fearlessly. “Father, 1 want you to deny what this wretch—this murderer—asserts. Are you in his power?” “I am, Jennie. Clayton, let Jennie alone for the present. only she is so hasty.” “You -tell her, then,” potnadaes the man, “as you value -your life, that I am not a murderer. You tell her that she moust be my wife, or she will see you on the scaffold. I’m - not going to be daved in this way.” “Your wife!” gasped Jennie. Yes, my wife,” returned the detective. “That is the ar- rangement. You must marry me in. the morning, or I. will denounce your father and drag him to prison on a charge of murder. You are right about your cousin. .He did not com- mit the crime that was charged against him. Your father did; a and it was I who saved him from the scaffold by convicting ‘his nephew. Now, my saucy girl, you won't put on so many “airs with me.” Jennie’s face was as pale as death, as she turned to her crouching-father, gasping forth: “Father, this vile wretch is lying—is he not?” “He's telling the truth, Jennie. “Oh, my, have mercy on me! Let him crush the young fool who has raised all this a trouble. What is his life to mine? Spare your father, Jennie.” _ The devoted girl was dumb for the moment, and the tears ' started to her eyes for the first time, as she looked at the self- confessed guilty man, who was the author of her being, and: ‘ho had been so kind and loving to her from babyhood up. _ She. turned from her father to the detective, and a feeling rf loathing stole over her very heart as she realized | the acrifice she was called on to make. “Marry this vile wretch! » she thought. For merey's sake, do not insult him again. She is a good girl, ag fe 3 us Oh, it would: break ny heart.” : if And then, raising her voice, ‘the distressed girl said: ar, I pity you from my heart; but. T will not—I cannot | by. committing crime You wretch, I would I am befriending the persecuted | Father, I| And ihe indignant girl, With the firm resolye of acting an honest part, turned to leave the ‘room on the instant. Quick as thought the pees sprang forward and seized ‘her, crying: “What do you mean to do, ‘iad girl? Darkmore, grab her and force her to swear that she will keep her mouth shut.” Jennie struggled with the two desperate men, as she scream- ed forth: ay “Terry—Terry, save: me! They ‘are going to murder me. Oh, you scoundrels, I can see that you would not: hesitate to do it. Terry—Terry!” They had succeeded in forcing Jennie awd on a chair, and Pete Clayton was gagging her mouth with a handkerchief, when Terry burst into the room, yelling: E “Thunder and lightning, Miss Jennie, what is the matter?” And the next instant the young printer made a dash on the detective, struck him with a Pereira and stretched him on the floor. “What do you mean by it, sir?”: enida Terry, as he held the weapon to the fallen man’s head, while he glared from his Tanenll to Jennie. “Just say the beg ie Jennie, and I will kill the skunk.” Tom Darkmore Gowered: before Terry, while his daughter sprang from the chair, crying: “Terry, I want you to keep the pistol at that: man’s’ ene but don’t shoot him unless he attempts to ak me. Haghes, ; I am going to leave your house forever.” And Jennie turned to the door once more, when another” actor appeared on the scene. . When the young girl uttered her screams of terror, ‘aaa called on Terry to come to her rescue, Ben bras her cries in his hiding place. Without hesitating a moment, the gallant young fellow dashed down the stairs, only to eee Bob Panienope: in the hall. ‘Sais _ Bob did not heed his Ssister’s cries, but he did notice ee 5 convict cousin; and he was already aware, from some words dropped by his father during the night, that it was all- im- portant to crush the young fellow. we Besides, Bob Darkmore had learned to hate his ‘@isuiasa si cousin with all the venom of his black heart, as he had ~ never forgotten their first encounter in the printing office yard, ‘ The moment Ben reibhed the foot of the stairs, Bob oe ‘ on him and dealt him a treacherous blow with a heavy” club, ns sending him reeling against the stairs. ee Ben was taken aback for the moment, but before his ere * sailant could repeat the BOW: he was on vice guard. easy ead for the encounter. Dodging the second blow aimed at him, Bob closed in on ia: + cousin, seized the club, dragged it from his grasp, and: ‘then, z breaking away, he knocked the young rascal to ‘the ‘floor, aot just as the invalid mother staggered from the sitting room, : learn the cause of the uproar downstairs. Without waiting to salute Mrs. Darkmore, Ben rushed suede : the stairs to the dining. room, to encounter eae hastening : 3 at oe by the devoted Terry. _ — “Away from here,” was the young: gins exclamatio she seized Ben by the arm. dead!” ; “What is the matter, Jennie? fruvband, Tam ve cried Mrs. Darkmore, as she stared at te. actors Jn the stranga a scene. @ = ee “Away—away, Ben!” whispered reais still forcing Be ‘out into the hall. “Come, and I will fly” with, you. Tae ASRS. SRG _ Don't, f for mer ere,
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16 BEN Ben, “and it will be all right. chance again.” You would have to kill father, too. Poor, mother! Don't expose him before her. Come with me, and I will help you to crush the scoundrel. Oh, Ben, this is awful!” Jennie forced the young fellow up the stairs, and then out the door into the street, as she continued to whisper into his RAL LH . “Step into the printing office—the composing room—and you will soon see me, or hear from’ me. We can trust Terry, for he thinks the world of me. I can never live with father again, Only think, Ben, he wanted me to marry that brutal wretch, Pete Clayton! Oh, what, an awful night!” — “Marry Pete Clayton, Jennie! Le me go back at once. I feel that the time has come to dare him openly.” “No—no, I say! They are coming after you now. In over the fenee, and hide in the composing room. They will not think of looking for you in there.: Trust to me, Ben.” “I will trust to you, Jennie,” responded Ben, as he sprang over. the fence; “but if that scoundrel offers to touch you again, I'll be out at him as sure as death.” *Jennie—Jennie!” cried her father from the hall inside. “Don't be skeered, Miss Jennie,” yelled Terry, “for the fellow won’t dare touch you again. I’ve got his shooter, and TL lay him out if he puts on any more airs.” Il may never have as good a t f 4 *“No—no! “Yow ll suffer death for this, you infernal young fool,” hissed Pete Clayton, in a whisper, as he stood before Terry in the hali. And then, raising his voice, he cried: “Where’s that young murderer gone? [ tell you, young fellow, you’ll get yourself in a bad scrape, if you assist him ‘in’ escaping.” “Who's assisting him in escaping?” growled Terry. “I was only keeping you from raising thunder with Miss Jennie. - Isn't that so, Miss Jennie? Wasn't he-——” “Terry,” interrupted the young girl, as she entered the hall door from the street, “I want you to protect me from that bad _ man. aC want you to stand guard over him here, and shoot him if he attempts to get away, while I go for the constables, Not one word, father. Mother, | know what’I am doing.” “Stop her, Bob,” eried Tom Darkmore, to his hopeful son. “The girl is crazy. She ought to be in a lunatic asylum.” “You just touch her, any of you,” cried Terry, “and I’ll lay you putt, Go ahead, Miss Jennies and see if I don’t stand to you.” A . Jennie ran upstairs, aéized her hat and cloak, a few yaluables and some money; and then she left her father’s house, de- 3 spite. the urgent entreaties of her invalid mother. CHAPTER XI. _ OR T9 THE GREAT CITY. ae held the detective a “piuctiey in the hall for ‘more ; 1a an hour; -and he would not allow his boss or his son to = hour. passed, and there was no word or sigh from the ung g ly ‘me, and you'll have Jennie and all “her money,” Seles fi ‘tempter, BREVIER. — a _o.2-2-.7———=1»>»"—_—>————>—>—0-—-—-—— “Let me kill that skunk, Peter Clayton, Jennie,” retutiad’? entered the house, bearing a dispatch for the pgs : man. It was short and explicit, reading as follows: “Father.—I am off to New York City with my cousin. Don’t attempt to follow us. Kind love to mother. Jennie.” “See now what you have done,” cried the excited father, as he handed the telegram to Terry; “eure you for a darned: f Re fool!” , “Iam a darned fool,” cried Terry, flinging Sons the paper — and making for the door; “but dang my eyes it she fools me again. Im going right to New York after them.” “Go to thunder, and never let me see your face int my | office again,” yelled the editor, as he i gs with rage. Bekoec: will we do now, Clayton?” “Pursue them, of course, fellow.” And the detective ran after Terty, who was hastening to hie boarding house, with the purpose of taking the next ‘train for the great city. ae “See here, young fellow,” said Pete Clayton, as he laid his a hand on Terry’s shoulder; “I want a few words with you.” = “Hands off,” said Terry, in gruff tones; “I ain't to be fooled ; with now.” i a “I don’t want to fool with you. I want to set snwoll right, rt! and help you get satisfaction for being fooled.” th “And you bet I’ll get it,” said Terry. “I’m just. aouees to lay out the snoozer what stole Jennie, and no mistake.” — “You love Jennie, then?” ‘ em “That ain’t any of your business, you big fraud. ’Twas you — drove her away, with your blamed mystery and——” Pig oy “Stop just there, young man,” interrupted Pete Clayton, in half-stern, half-familiar tones; “and now just listen to- me.” ba “What is it, then?” Spats “Are you going to follow that young fellow, your cousin, to Let me get after’ that young: | New York, and.tackle him there? If you don’t lay him out in a few days, he’ll force Jennie to be his wife.” . “V'll kill him first,” growled Terry. “I'll not— et. any snoozer come between me and Jennie. I know she thought a sight of me until he came along.” ; ¢ “Take the next train for New, York, then,” continued. the tempter. “Get on their track in the city, and I will be with you after the election. Do you. understand? ‘Work in Ae “Tll work with the old boy himself on thdse terms,” be plied Terry, as he swallowed the bait offered him. | > “Then start at once. ' Here’s money for you,” continued the tempter. “Pick a row with Ben on sight. He's an es pe convict, you know, and you won’t get touched for it. ” “Pl kill him on sight,” replied ‘the murderous Tere “and rl bring Jennie back,” i “Were you ever in New York City before?” “Never! but never you fear, ry make out there, 1 ait slouch.” . “, vi And Terry did start. on the next train, The bold, eunning detective hastened back to To ‘tect ‘his mind filled ee a, venigenty fe vega gi ‘whe Here bs bee : fe sie depot, were » ees
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—— though exultant at having secured Jennie, regretted that he had not crushed his bitter. enemies forever. They reached New York on the following day, and Ben led his cousin to a respectable boarding house on West Broadway, telling the landlady that she was his sister, and that they were orphans, seeking their fortune in the city. As Ben had spent six months in the metropolis working at _ his trade, he was not at a loss for friends and acquaintances; * but he did need a trusty confidant—an experienced detective or an honest lawyer—in whom he could confide to assist him in finally baffling his enemies, and clearing his good name. ‘The cousins did not stir from the boarding house during the day; but at night Ben'sallied out to procure a new dis- guise, as well as to learn the address of a ‘good lawyer. About the hour of nine a foppish-looking fellow, with full whiskers, eye-glasses, and a fancy cane, was lounging about | the Herald office, inquiring of the compositors off for the night as to the chances of getting employment on the great morning journal. . That foppish customer was our Ben in disguise; and as he had funds at command, he was soon enjoying a drink with three printers. x While thus engaged, Terry entered the saloon, called toy a drink, and then cast his eyes around among the loungers. “Aha,” thought Ben, who felt safe in his disguise, “my old opponent is after me. I'll just see if he will recognize me.” And Ben, swinging his cane, and speaking in an affected | tone of, voice, addressed Terry, saying: . “Ha, young fellow, won’t you take a drink with us, ia “Pll smash your head, you blamed thief,” cried Terry, as he sprang on the disguised lad, and struck him in the face. _ “¥ellers, this is a convict—a murderer—that I'm after.” “You're an infernal liar,” eried Ben, as he closed with his old antagonist, and struck him in turn. “Give usa show, friends, and I'll lick the rascal.” -. ‘Terry attempted to draw his revolver, but Ben, feeling as- sured that the jealous fellow was set on ou track by Pete Clayton, did not give him a chance. Down on the floor they rolled, fighting and sirusitlas, while the spectators ‘stood around them in high glee. Terry kept calling on the bystanders to interfere, yelling: : | “This fellow is a thief—a murderer! He’s stolen a young girl from Centertown.” : ‘ “*>TIs a blamed lie! show.” f \ They did not get much of a show, however, for at that mo- - ment two policemen, brandishing Hie clubs, rushed into the saloon. I'll punch his head, if you give.us a CHAPTER XII. BEN ENCOUNTERS A POWERFUL FRIEND. © a When the cops rushed ‘fait the Saloon, brandishing their i clubs, Ben and Terry were still hard at it on the floor. PF Ben had suéceeded in getting his assailant ander him, and he was pounding away at his face, while Jerry kept yelling | to} the others to assist him, when one of the cops Jet fly with his elub, and struck our hero on ‘the head. : yee that was a lucky blow for, Ben, Ter ry as he spoke, and dragging him to his. feet. “mhunder, but. you've hurt that fellow.” : ie at 'S only ec a ie growled ‘th c Shakes BEN- BREVIER. | , “Giab. the snoozers, ~ Bill,” yelled the other cop, ‘potase’ a4 Jed Ben. out through a side door into An 1% ae voice, as a stalwart form bent over the insensible young man. “You deserve to be sent up for striking——” “Don’t give me any of your Slack, or I’ll fetch you a clip,” growled the policeman to the stalwart stranger. “Try it on, if you dare, ” returned the stranger, who was a fearless-looking man of about forty years. “I’ve dealt with such fellows as you before. This young man is wreae | cut. ‘Send for a doctor.” “He’s an escaped murderer—a convict!” yelled Terry, as the other policeman dragged him from the saloon, “I tell you I ‘|ain’t done anything wrong. What are you lugging me off for?” “That's played out. |eried the eee right.” The policeman who struck the insensible Ben was hadieie wet frightened, as he stared at the bleeding head; while the stal- Wart stranger still bent over the wounded man, endeavoring to stop the bleeding, as he continued to denounce the brutal ‘policeman. “Run and summon the ambulance; you chicken wenaed” fool,” cried the stranger, as he washed the blood from Ben’s . face, where the blood was flowing down from a cut on the top of the head. Don’t you see he’s badly cut?” - “You stop that sass, or I'll serve you the same way,” ‘cried the cop, raising his club. “I won’t take your slack—I won't.” “Look at me for a moment,” said the stranger, as he stood ‘up and bent his keen gray eyes on the cop. “Did you ever see me before? Ha! I thought you-—-” “Bee your pardon, Judge Burtis,” faltered the startled cop, as he eis the stranger. “I—I swear % Heaven, cere didn’t know you.” “Phat’s all right, you know me now, and I'll know you. Just run for a surgeon, and get the ambulance. » The policeman darted out of the saloon on the instant, while — Judge Burtis turned to Ben again, saying | to the landlord, who had raised him to a chair: “TI can’t make out why he teeing insensible « sO tong. tes only a sealp wound.” “I’m not insensible, sir, thank you,” ‘said Ben, opening ‘his eyes and staring around. “Is that ‘policeman gone?” ; F “Playing be geben tas eh?” queried je! judge, with a merry smilé. “Yes, air.” ai Ben. fighting, and get locked up for. the night. young fellow who assaulted me before.” “Are you certain of that?” asked Judge Burtis, as he tes. tened his keen eyes on the escaped convict. Ben could tell a lie With a straight face when fee’ spit. i common men; but Judge Burtis was no uncommon man, and our young héro’s eye quailed beneath that piercing glance on the instant. a “I—I—may have met him, sir,” Ben replied. “For mere: sake, gentlemen, let me go before the policeman comes back.’ “Come with me, then,” said the judge, who realized at once ; that there was a mystery at the bottom of. the affair. “Come with me} young ‘man, and if you’re ae and in trouble, : . befriend you.” a : Q There was something so genial and so aah in ‘the man’s 4 words and manner that Ben, 50. sadly in need of a friend | ag he was, placed his right hand in that of the judge's, “Tl tell the truth, sir. Do Tet us” get away “y the officer comes back." 30 y i “This. way, then, young fellow,” returned the judge n Big has as Come along with me, young fellow,” “Bill, you get the other TeBO all ~ “T didn’t want to be arrested for ay I never saw the
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18 BEN BREVIER. tS oss aiong Ann to Nassau, and then up to Printing House square, where he hailed a cab. “You are disguised, young man,” said the judge, while the cab rattled up towards. Center street. “Tam, sir,” was the ready response. “I have been traveling in disguise for the last two years and more. I am an escaped | prisoner from the penitentiary. I wag arrested and tried for| murder, and I was convicted for life. I am now at your mercy. As God is my judge to-night, I am innocent of the charge.” “You will tell me all about it when we get up to the hotel, young friend. This is election night, and I did intend to re- main down here to hear the returns; but I am interested in you. Confide in me, and I will be your friend—providing you are honest and true.” “You can hand me oyer to the police, sir—to my enemies,” replied Ben, “if you doubt a word of my statement, Oh, my, but I did need a friend like you. 1 wag afraid the whole world had turned against me.” And the hunted lad burst into tears, while his new-found friend pressed his hand and consoled him, saying: ‘“Cheer up, young man. The whole world has not turned against you. Did not hear your assailant mention something about a young girl who ran away with you from Centertown?” “My Cousin Jennie, sir.. She's an angel, if ever there was one. And that's the trouble. Her father is my greatest enemy.” “Don’t say any more now,” said the judge. «Bet to my hotel.” In less than an hour afterwards, Judge Burtis had. heard -Ben’s thrilling story, and the acute man believed every word of it. “You have a hard battle pétore you yet, young man,” said _ the judge; “but i will do all I can to help you. As I take it, you are anxious, for the girl's sake, to spare her father?” ~~ # Yes, sir. If: I come down, on my unele; Jennie will never | _ speak to me again.” “Wait until we - “And you think eeu uncle and this detective will he down who was the only person who could say a word for me, was here after you?” “Tam certain of Jit, ‘sir. down here to lay for me, and to watch me, until after election. ‘He’s sweet on Jénnie, you know.” 5 “He seems like a determined young fellow,” said the judge; “but, I think I'll manage to-scare him home to-morrow. ‘the meantime, you must adopt some other disguise, and 1| the night, for he stopped at the house. BE “Will go over with you to see the young lady. Do you think| S0ing on, i saw him consulting with my uncle. It was only a — of marrying her right away?” “Oh, no, sir. TI never committed, you know. a is oy cept by compelling him to confess to the crime?” never get on his track.” “Who was it, Ben?” j “An old negro who lived with my guardian. sir, we lived on a farm outside of Cleveland. “town, selling a load of produce, during the day. When T re- You know, his head smashed in with an ax. “eta Suet A who had fees so “yin to me, Jake tee: Sut from | wringing his hands, and chattering like as if he was almost frightened to death. “T couldn’t make anything out of Jake, only that a tall man © called on Mr. Palmer early in the evening, and wanted to Ans Zaul a young colt he had for sale. While Jake went down to the — meadow to bring up the colt, the tall man remained in the : house with old Mr. Palmer. ae “The colt was skittish, and it took Jake a good while to. cateh him. When he did ‘get back to the house with the ani- mal, he found everything still in and around the house. He called on Mr. Palmer, and received no answer. And then. ‘when he entered the house to look for his old master, he found him lying, as I found him, with his brains dashed out on the 3 bedroom floor, . “Jake was so scared that I couldn't do anything with him. I saw that the old gentleman’s strong trunk, where he had kept his money, was broken open, and everything yas tossed i around. “Telling the old negro to remain with the dead man, I ran. out of the house, jumped on the colt, and rode to the next neighbor’s to give the alarm. And then I rode on to Cleveland to summon the police. ; r “The first man I met at the sation house was Pete Clay ton, who was then a détective, and he was sent back with me I’m sure they sent that Terry aight In| I am certain that ‘he put the pocketbook in my pocket during te ; T’ll not dream of doing eiuiue of the ict! about my mother dying in a lunatic asylum. He also told me ss until I clear my name—not until I am pardoned for the crime} that my uncle had all my property; and ‘that I should claim “That's right, Ben. And you have no evidence patie ‘thig| He moved to Centertown gree I was sentenced to the Jas Pete Clayton? You have no means of clearing yourself ex-| tiary for life.” _ “There was one witness to the murder, sir, I am ahageee the asylum where my mother died, and there T learned 3 sure; but he disappeared’ on the morning after, and I coula| it was Pete Clayton and my uncle who had put her ‘there. ; I was in the ‘murdered old Jake, or frightened him away from Ohio. ‘turned at night, I found the old man dead on the floor, with| asked Judge Burtis. . ee was 80. horrified that r didn’ t know what to do; and it} the old Fotiow Bila I was a boy, and 1 could imitate ee inder, the 1 bed, hs Shee IE. if he was crazy, and hel : and half a dozen officers accompanied him. soe “I don’t know how I spent that night, sir, but I'm certain { didn’t sleep much. The inquest was held in the morning, ‘ and then, to my great horror, Pete Clayton accused me Tot / killing and robbing the kind old man. I was so dumfounded that I couldn’t..say a word, and when the scoundrel com- menced to search my pockeés I made no resistance, ; “And then, sir, when he drew the old man’s pocketbook — from the pocket of the coat I had worn to market on ‘the — previous day, with some of the murdered man’s Money in Ae [ was struck dumb altogether, “I was in a bad fix, and no mistake, for old Jake, the negro, : not to be found anywhere, He had disappeared during, the I have never seen him since,” “Why did you suspect Pete Clayton, my young friend? inquired the judge. “Because he was bent on convicting ; me from the first, sir. While my trial was few days before the murder that I heard from old Mr. Palmer | jwhen I was of age. My uncle was living: in Cleveland then, “When I escaped from prison, over two years ago, I went is th “Then you are satisfied that Clayton was a tall ma old negro saw?” inquired the judge. “T am eaprtain of it, sir. And I am satisfied that he th “You would know the old fellow if you ever met him? : ; Fe. “Certainly, sir; I could ‘never forget’ him. I Ber ‘to mimic pee ot ice Sait
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BEN - house to see the young lady. You need not tell her that 1 am in your secret so far as her father ig concerned. Ben, my friend, we will conquer your enemies.” 5 Ben expressed his thanks in earnest words, swearing that - he would merit the judge’s approval] in the conflict, They proceeded to the boarding house, where Jennie was introduced to the kindly judge, and she expressed her will- -ingness to aid Ben in proving his innocence. -. On the following morning Judge Burtis entered the risk -roorh followed by an old negro. ‘ The old colored man was dressed in a plain suit of black clothes; his hair and whiskers were as white as his shirt * front, and he wore a pair of spectacles on his nose. “This is my man, Julius, officer,” said the judge, addressing the officer of the court room. “He will wait on me hereafter; See that he is allowed to enter here whenever he likes.” “Al right, judge.” The old negro took a seat in the judge’s private office, where he could observe all those in the public court room, Among the first cases called was Terry, who had been locked. “up all night, and who was now charged with drunkenness and’ disorderly conduct by the officer who had arrested him. j “Ten dollars or ten days,” said the judge, as he bent his keen eyes on the prisoner. “I swear to goodness, judge, I wasn’t drunk,” cried Poiry: “I was only trying to arrest a murderer down from Center- town, He's a young fellow what run away with a young girl, - and——” wt oN “18 T Jet you off will you promise. me to. ‘go right ‘back to ~ Centertown and mind your own biisinegs?” interrupted the - judge. “What authority have you to” arrest spain in the 5 pelt? 7: “Mr. Clayton, the ‘detective from Ohio, sent me down here, - judge,” TeuMEe Terry. “He'll be faye himself: to-day _ after him.” : : cat am here now,” said a voice behind fo ser Judge Burtis turned to the speaker, Fe whom he recog- nized a noted outlaw whom he had known in California aie ing the early gold excitement. — CHAPTER XIIL ( JENNIE IN THE TOS, _ i “Gyno are you, sir?” demanded Judge Burtis, as he scowled “down from the. bench at the tall detective. e “F am an officer from Ohio, your honor, in ge of an es- _caped convict. ! “Are your papers correct, sir?” ” up the requisite documents, — A “Do you know this young man?” inquired the judge, as he Pointed to the trembling Terry. , Ay - <“He ig a young printer from Centertown, judge, who 4s “helping me to hunt down my man. I will pay his fine, if ne: cessary, if he has got into a scrape.” *T had Ben safe, Mr. Clayton,” said Terry, healy the officers come in on ws I was licking the life ‘out of him. tees “You were—were your smiled the, jsudee: “How is nat officer?” : ATs should say, judze,” mepine the cop who had arrested | "that the fight was all the other way. "spor was” knocking spots out of this young fellow: when. we. struck on Lie 76 ge ae es : : BREVIER. while Mr. Darkmore and I go search the boarding houses.. “Here they are, judge,” replied, Pete Clayton, as he handed | | surprised to find the old negro at the door., 19 “I think you had better go home, young man,” said the judge, in sharp tones. The detective whispered some words to Terry, and the latter replied to the judge: : “T want to find a young lady first, side if you please.” “Go and find her, then; but don’t go getting into a row again, or I'll have to send you up to the island.” Terry withdrew from the court room, followed by the de- tective; and they had not reached the street, when the old | negro servant, who was no other than Ben in disguise, was on their track, . Ben followed them down Broadway 6 Courtlandt street, and into a hotel, where the editor of the Beagle was ee for the detective. Tom Darkmore was in ‘very bad humor that moéning, as. everything seemed to be going against him. His rival, Hditor Franklin, of the Gazette, had datebica him- ‘in the election, and by a very handsome majority. ‘His daughter had fled from his home with his young enemy, ° and his invalid wife had insisted upon coming to New York ‘with him, to find her loved daughter. “Did you strike the young rascal yet, Terry?” was ‘the first question asked by Tom Darkmore. “I did, sir, and we had a row. But he got away nie me.” “And what about Jennie? Did you see my dear girl?” “No, sir, I didn’t find her ‘yet. But I will, Mr. Darkmore.” The three conspirators were standing in the barroom at this time, and Tom Darkmore had just called for a cocktail, when the disguised Ben passed through the saloon. “Vm afraid-my wife will die if we don’t find Jennie,” tinued Darkmore. “She’s taking on awful this morning.” — “We'll find her, you bet,” said the detective. “I am going now to hunt that young rascal down, and I’ll shoot him on sight. Terry, you go and hang about the Herald office ae bet we’ll soon strike on them.” ree ‘Terry hastened away, while the sails companions in crime | lingered over their morning drink. Ben. lingered around the hotel until he saw his two aneialew drive away, calling’ on the driver of the cab to go up to Weel : Broadway as fast as possible. It was evident that the cunning detective Had swears males’ inquiries at the ferry about the young people, as, Ben saw. |that the driver was the very man who had conveyed them to the boarding house on the previous day. : iy *I must block their game somehow,” thought Ben, as he looked after the cab, as it made its way through the crowded thoroughfare. inquired for Miss Annie Johnson, the name assumed by Jennig lin the boarding house. "Ah “Tell de young lady as her cousin wants her,” said Ben to the servant girl. 3 Jennie hurried downstairs at ate: summons, and she was - One word in her ear Was enough. as Putting on her hat and cloak, the lively girl, with” a ‘veil. over her face, was following Ben up West Broadway, ‘whe the cab drove up to the door of the boarding house. e The father caught a glimpse of the familiar forro as he. jumped out of the cab, and the next moment he was Restoning, after Jennie with the elated detective. “Jennie—Jennie,” cried Darkmore, as he Saar: near, . Ye ; ‘The other | must come home with me. Your mother is dying, She esa ape peat com “any rae ; Bee, f con- I'll take the elevated and get ahead of them.” — Five minutes after, Ben arrived at the boarding house; ben ot
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20 i ‘ t “You must come home, Jennie.” “You forget that I am of age, father. me to marry that wicked man.” “Who is that old negro?” demanded the dateeetes, as he) noticed the disguised Ben watching them a few doors away. “That’s a colored gentleman who is taking me to a situa- © tion,” replied Jennie. “I advertised in the Herald this morn- ing, and his mistress sent him for me. Will you come with me, sir, While I go to see my mother, who has just arrived in the city? Where is it, father?” “At a hotel in Cortlandt street, Jennie. You can go about your business, old man: My daughter will not be a servant to anyone.” ‘ “All right, massa,” said Ben. she'd suit missus—a bully lady.” “You please come with me, sir,” said Jennie, in, firm tones, “and then I’ll go with you to your mistress. Father, I have made up my mind to earn my own living. Don’t attempt to argue With’me. Let us go and see mother,” Jennie walked back to the cab with her father and the de- _ tective, and the pretended old negro followed after. “Get up on the seat with the driver, old man,” said the detective. “All right, massa,” responded ‘Julius. The cab was turned around, and as they drove back to the _ hotel, Ben opened on the driver, iia *Yous knows Judge Burtis, friend?” “What! the judge ‘at the Tombs? Guess I do, oid man.” “lL be his servant—him man-I be, , Har’ sa dollar for yous, an’ yu skoots ober to him when yous leabes. dis load at de \ hotel. ‘Just tells de judge ole Julius wants to see him at de hotel; an’ I gibs’ you anoder dollar when you fotched You can never force “Berry sorry, fur I jus tink him ober. Just keep your mouf shut, an’ de judge muel | in stern tones. - ebliged. - ‘ “You bet I will, old man,” replied the driver, with a know- ing wink. “I think the old eset 3 inside are up to a game ; with the girl.” “Yous tells the judge about it,” said ihe old negro. “JI habs im ‘spicions, t00/"2"7 d Fi ‘When they reached the hotel on Cortlandt street, the two _ men led Jennie up: to the ee where her mother was Hg "reclining on a sofa. — ‘We will not attempt to describe the joy of the fond’ mother Mah meeting her lovely ‘daughter; but that joy was of short duration, as Jennie penn eR her determination of remain- ig in the city. it g0 home with your mother.” ; . 4 “Good-by, mother,” said Jénnie, as she made a aa to leave the room. seit atte We, és A - prisoner, you aaraese Dare lay a aia on me, and denounce 708 as a murderer. I dare you teen eta er nostrils. © ‘But ne erson on the. pee h rd that feeble ae for Ip, and the r door was burs' later. crié BEN BREVIER. : You must stop this aitis: Jennie!” cried her father, “and Ds wife,” cerfea ‘Tom Darkmore as Jennie. fell adie A t And the judge was just in time, as the two villains about to pounce on Ben. “What's all this outrage?” demanded Judge Burti: as) he ‘ glared from Pete Clayton to Tom Darkmorey and then at the | agitated invalid. “This is my daughter, sir,” said Tom Darkmore, “and : am about to take her home.” “Was it necessary to chloroform the young lady?” demi the stern judge; “J think there’s some mischief here. ae ce call a doctor. 4 . CHAPTER XIV. PETE CLAYTON INA SCRAPE. Pete Clayton stared at Judge Burtis for a moment as the pretended old neaeo, gaphaet “Run and summon a doctor, Julius. you meet.” “Julius,” cried ity Clayton, starting: a a oddvioo ind ‘fig ure, as the disguised Ben left the room. “Did you ene tha old nigger’s name was, Julius, sir?” — mi “What's that to you?” returned Judge Burtis, in iiss And then, turning to Mrs. Darkmore, he inquired: — “Is this young lady any kin to bee ma 7am?” “She is my daughter, sir.” ; “And I am her father, stranger,” pene ae "aaah Darkore. “T guess we can take care/of our girl without troubling y hes “Nice care you have been taking of her, sir,” said th judge fat “Dosing her with tosis Sit Young oe | do you recognize me?” ° Call in ae ast oft Bitsy si the room until they rested on Pete Clayton. “Save me from that horrid wreteh, ‘sir,” she. preaching out her hand to the judge on the instant. aay, bee! he means to murder me.- Where’ soe? ‘ “You were going to ask for, my colored ‘man, old at ‘Jennie. age, young lady?”* ~~ athe 42 “I was eighteen last week, sir. » SPA lady?” continued | Judge Burtis: : “I prefer to remain. in Mew York, sir, and earn my 07 ing.” if hy 5 3 ii f “Oh, Jennie—Jennie,” cried the moter, hate I hate him.” “And you want to marry. eee conviet from prison,” cried her father. wy j “And I will marry him bs very. be d ; “Are you stot
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BREVIER. Q1- ‘ Se BBN “And you will leave me, Jennie?” sobbed the delicate woman. Good-by, and believe me I will I am - , “For a time only, mother. ever love you. Father, I warn.you to let Ben ,alone. ; ready, sir.” \ 5 And Jennie reached out her hand to Judge Burtis as she walked towards the door. “And I warn each of you, sirs,” said the judge, facing the two conspirators, “that the young lady is now under my ‘ charge. Iam about to take her up to my house in Westchester, : and place her in my wife’s care. Ah, Julius, you are back - with the doctor. Dr, Shine, I am sorry to have given you un- necessary trouble. The young lady is all right now. Please ~ look to the elder lady.” ; _*All right, judge,” said the doctor, as he moved towards ‘2 Mrs. Darkmore, who had fallen back on the sofa, in an ex- - hausted state. In the meantime, the pretended old negro stood at the bed- room door staring at Pete Clayton through ‘his spectacles with ,. evident surprise. . “Swar to goodness, massa,” he murmured, dctatitng. the ' judge at the door, “if dis chile ain’t seen that big gemman j ‘ in Cleabeland. Gormighty, if it be’ent——” ‘ , “What's that you say, you old fool?” cried Pete Clayton, 2 springing forward and seizing Ben by the throat. “You dare say a word against me and [ll kill you. ” “Arrest that man, officer,” cried the judge, flinging Pete Clay- ton aside. “Julius, I want you to make a charge of assault 4 against him.” "Dis chile do wus dan ‘dat, Mode Judge,” cried Ben, as he ~. glanced at Pete Clayton, who was seized by the officer. “I > sware afore God he kills ole Massa Palmer out near Cleabe- * land. I seed him smash de ole generman wid de axe.” You lying old villain,” cried Pete Clayton, ‘thrown off his guard by Ben’s mimicry, “I'll make you swallow your words, Let me go, officer. ‘I tell you I’m an officer from Ohio. ty. 5 ~ “You hold on to that man, Officer,” cried the judge. “This ‘old colored gentleman is my servant, and I’ll vouch for his eracity. Just take the prisoner to the court, and J’ll investi- gate the charge against him.” “The thunder you will,” eried Pete Clayton, as he stared at the disguised Ben. “Why, I tell you that old eee is a fraud. He’s no more what he pretends to be than I am.” “Guess dis ehily Knows who he am, Massa Clayton,” said Sen, “Guess I i¢ Julius Johnsin, what libed wid ole Mens Palmer in Ohio. Guess I kin tells how yous--——” “Hold on, Julius,” interrupted the judge, who feared that Ben was piling it on too much without private instruc- tions. “You can ‘take your charge against the prisoner in ‘eourt. He is now under arrest on a charge of assault.” ; “Blamed: if I am,” cried Pete Clayton, striking the policeman on a ‘violent blow on the face that sent him reeling against the bedroom doer, and then making. a dash for the stairs. . . “After him,” cried the judge, dashing Ro: the stairs. “Catch ihe rascal down below there.”. But Pete Clayton, fearing an exposure, and not daring. to ont,” was determined on escaping from his accuser. | ed as to leave no doubt in the: detective’s mind, that he lad encountered the Julius of other days—the foolish old man nig at of, the murder. ie sia Ben, remembering the fold: man’s: ait cas well as) street... = m4 | and that person was the disguised detective. -Ben’s mimicry ‘of the old negro’s yoice was so admirably-per- | hom he had frightened from the Soe Saceat 3 house on the} ; Darkmore. the fugitive, and feating to fire on him, lest they ager hit some of the people on ‘the crowded sidewalk. Before reaching West street, Pete Clayton turned ofce to observe his pursuers, wee his hand was on his hip-pocket as he swore: | ‘ “Hang me if I don’t a some of them if they press me too close. Who'd haye thought the, cursed old darky would ~ turn up: here? . Here’s my best chance.” : The detective darted into a hotel on the corner of the street, passed quickly out ae the yas cit and ascended the | Stairs. Judge Burtis and the sihers were close after him, but ere they entered the barroom the fugitive had disappeared. “Guard the door, officer, and take your man if he attempts to get out. I think we have him now, sure.” But they did not have him. Half an hour’s searcH through the hotel failed to discover their fugitive; and Judge Burtis was compelled to return with | the disguised Ben to the other hotel, leaving the tae i ‘watch for Pete Clayton. “I think it is just as well he got away, my young friend, iy said the judge to Ben. “We are not prepared to opén on ‘him.” “You saw how he trembled when I accused him, judge,” re- turned Ben. “Are you satisfied now that he is the murderer?” “Iam, Ben. We will take your young lady friend upto my. house in Westchester, and then I’ll set a clever detective on his track. I feel that we will baffle them before long, and prove - your innocence,” eae In less than half an hour Jennie was on her way to her new — home with Ben and the judge, the young girl having again ; ‘refused her father to accompany him back to Centertown. ra, _ And her father was a miserable man; indeed. E ’ He saw how the detective quuiled before the old negro; nd aA he realized that without Pete Clayton’s assistance, he yaa be no mateh for his young enemy. Re All day long the afflicted wretch sat with his sick Wite, e exe pecting to hear from his fellow-conspirator, and fearing to! B0 in search of him, lest he should encounter Ben. , itl, “Where can that rascal, Terry, be all this time?” peremess Ee the editor, as night approached. “I don’t know what to do.” — Steps were heard outside the door at that moment, followed by a knock. pie “Is that you, Terry?” inquired Tom Darkmore, opening ky : door. “Where have you been all the day, you young villain?” is “Chasing up Ben Brevier, sir,” replied Terry, “as Mr. ‘Clay- a3 ton told me; and I’ve found out where Miss Jennie is.” ih “Was Mr, Clayton with you?” “He was, sir. He’s waiting in a saloon around the corner : see you now.” j “He is disguised; then?” “He is, sir. You wouldn’t know him a all if he 6 didn't sneai to you. Come on, sir.” Pia Terry led is way out of the hotel, cox chat into Gr Entering a saloon, they Sune an: oie gent seated at. Her “What are you going to do now, Clayton?” “inquir troubled editor, after they aay Sitgnoticiee some ords low. sag “Isn! t it strange that 70
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22 “And the young rascal, Ben. Have you got on his track yet?” — “No; we have not. before long. We must get the girl back home, and he will follow us up there after her. Then we can lay him out.” “T’m afraid Jennie will give us trouble, Clayton,” said Tom Darkmore. “And that judge. How: do you account for his taking such an interest in her?” “That judge took Ben from the saloon last night, Darkmore, and he’s got him hiding now. We are in trouble, if we don’t act promptly. We must secure your daughter to-night, and we must get that old nigger out of the way.” “Murder him, you mean?” inquired Tom Darkmore, with a shudder. “Ay, murder him, or he'll fetch us to the gallows. He’s the only witness to that affair out near Cleveland. I am Satisfied he has told Judge Burtis all about it. Ben Revier has told his story to the judge also. We must act promptly, Darkmore, or we are dead men. We are not dealing with children now.” “T wish fo goodness I’d never thought of my sister’s money,” groaned the other. “Tis too late now,” said the villainous detective, “you've got it, and I don’t think you’d like to give it up. We must fight the battle out to the end. Ben Revier and the old darky have got to go under; and that judge——” “You surely won’t think of tackling him, ideas He looks like a man that would not be imposed on—a regular Tartar.” “I’ve laid out better men in my day,” replied the disguised detective, “and T’ll lay him out to- -night if I strike against him. Who in thunder is this? Look! a7 At that moment a forlorn-looking old darky, in tattered clothes, and bent almost double with age, entered the saloon. With trembling’ steps he approached the conspirators, and lifting his old hat, he inquired: ; sa “Will de good gemmen sib de poor old black man jus’ a -Ieetle somethin’?” “What's your name, old man?” inquired Pete Clayton, in husky tones, as he stared at this new apparition. é - “Julius Johnsin, sah. T. comes from away out de west, and -I’se dead broke.” “Ain't you Judge Burtis’ servant?” demanded Tom Dark- y more. os “Tain’t the same old nigger that we saw up in. Westchester’ | - this afternoon, Mr. Clayton,” said Terry, in a whisper, “though he talks and looks mighty like him.” E a “Were you ever in Cleveland, old man?” demanded Pete Clayton. d y “Dis ole chile libed nar Cleabeland wid an old gemman BEN BREVIER. one “Youse don’t say youse takes me to Ben; sar?” said the old darky, as he followed the treacherous man from the saloon. But you can be sure we will have him |" Whar am de child?” “Over here in Jersey. I’ know him well, for he is a friend of mine,” Old Julius followed the detective down Courtlandt street to — the Jersey ferry, muttering his thanks the while, as he thought - of the promised meeting with his young friend, Ben Revier. That simple old negro was frightened from the house in’ Cleveland on the night of the murder, by Pete Clayton val him that he was suspected of the crime. He fled to Cincinnati, and from thence down to Cairo, never ts hearing about Ben’s trouble. From Cairo the old man worked his’ way up to Dubie ; where he was seen by Pete Clayton on the following year. It was only two months before the time of which we write that Julius encountered an acquaintance from Cleveland, and this old acquaintance told him all about Ben's trial and convie- - tion for murdering old Mr. Palmer. ee And then the simple old fellow, without consulting anyone, made his way back to the scene of the murder, only to learn that Ben was a fugitive, and that Pete Clayton was hunting ‘him down in the east. ty Disguised as he was, Pete Gioia. was not recognized by the decrepid old negro; and the treacherous villain was leading the old man across the ferry, with the purpose of flinging him Ef into the river, Ee : Pete Clayton had no sooner left the saloon with his intended victim than Terry turned to the editor, saying: : . “See here, Mr. Darkmore, I don’t think I'll have seine more to do with this business. for me.” “What’s the matter, Terry?” “Just this is the matter, sir. darky said, that Ben is not a murderer. against him any longer.” \ “Then you are satisfied to let him marry Jennie, ‘Terty?” “Blamed if I ain’t, if she likes him better than me. | Do you know what, sir?” { Pe, oD “What is it, Terry?” . | ¢ ee “Pm just thinking that Pete Clayton is sedate: me. I nto he’s playing his points to get Jennie for himself.” <f “I'd sooner see her dead first, Terry,” returned Tom Dark- more; “but what am I to do? I am in the man’s power.” pe “Let’s after him, and see what he’s going to do with that ola nigger, and then maybe we’d have be grip on him. vim down on him—I am.” “And I fear him, Terry. You atitna by me, and I'll pay you It’s getting a little too dark : ae I think, from what chat ae I ain’t going to yuck ee “named Palmer, sar,” replied the old negro, as a look of terror| well. Oh, Terry—Terry, I am an A hea man. BAG : -overspread his countenance. “Twas to find a young pussur 1) thing is going against me.” snowed dar what. fotched me har to New York. Did youse; “I think it’s best to act on the square always, sir,” ‘sald Te bher meet a young gemman named Ben Revier, ‘scape from| ry. “Blame my eyes, if I ain’t glad now that |i didn’t. Jay o1 he Ohio prison?” Ben, ‘as that rip advised me.” Bee What about him?” demanded the detective. ’Cause 1 hearn dat he war put in prison fur killing ole assa Palmer; an’ I knowed he’s innocent. When I hearn. a he icant for de crime, I strikes es to bani ace an’ I CHAPTER XV. . SURPRISES, Ps and his employer hastened ante the street, bil | “I won’t follow him, Terry,” sais the vacillating mat Tay do as you like, but I'll wait here until he comes ba “Pm going to , find out,. it r Ps what | with ie old nigge Py
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4 - Darkmore. ; 4 “That old nigger will never trouble me again,” was the vVil- lain’s reply; “and I’m going up to Westchester to capture or ' kill the other nigger. Ha, ha, ha! I’ve got Ben where I want - him now, Darkmore, and see if his friend, “ judge, can save him. You must come with me.” : Tom Darkmore could not resist his determined companion, A and less than five minutes they were on their way to Fordham “in a hack. It was after midnight when the hack entered the » street. A thundering knock. at the door aroused the inmates, who had retired to bed. _ “Who’s dar?” cried a voice from the upper window, as a woolly head with a black face appeared thereat in a few mio- ments, -. “Does Judge Burtis live here?” demanded Pete Clayton, in an assumed voice. “Yes, sah,” replied the disguised Ben. “home from de city yet.” “So much the better,” thought the detective. » ing his voice, he cried: “Get down and let us in. We are officers from. the city on important business. The judge will be home soon.” The judge's wife, awakening from her sleep on hearing the loud voices, hastened to slip on a morning gown, and advanced _ to the window, saying: -. “What is the matter? Whom do you wish to see at this time _ of night, gentlemen?” _ “We wish to see Judge Burtis on important business,” re- plied Pete Clayton. “We expected to find him here, as we learned in the city that he started for home before us.” “Admit the gentlemen, Julius,” cried Mrs. Burtis. “J do ‘expect my husband home very soon.” Ben hastened to slip on his clothes, and hurried downstairs ; to open the door, while Mrs. Burtis made prsnenations to re- - eive her visitors. ~ - The young man saw two men ‘on the stoop, with their over- “But he ain’t got And then, rais- his enemies in the dark. ~ “Step in dis way, gemmen,” said Ben, leading the way into the sitting room. “We spects de judge home berry soon.” ral voice, as he seized Ben by the shoulder and clapped a revol- er to his head on the instant. “Stir a hand, Ben Revier, and YU kill. you right here. Lady, this impostor is my prisoner. ip on the handcuffs, Mr. Darkmore. ay. dear lady, this im- ostor is a murderer.” “What is the meaning of" this, sirs?” demanded Mrs. Burtis, s she entered the room. erg you ‘robbers? What do you nt?” .; “TJ want this fraud,” replied the detective, as cis ‘tore away Ben’s false hair and whiskers. “He is an escaped murderer. Ah, Miss Jennie, you are just in time. Mr. Darkmore, tell the aay that your daughter must come with us.” Don’t you do it, Jennie,” cried Ben, who was so stupefied t the sudden assault that the handcuffs were on | i piss hands ere tered a word. “You shut up, or I'll put a bullet through your head,” cried the detective. “You get right out into the carriage with me.” “murder him,” crie@. Jennie, as the. detective: drag- ae door, still dee the see ver to his: head. Peis BEN BREVIER. 4 village, driving directly to Judge Burtis’ house on the main } “We are in no hurry for him,” said Pete Clayton, in his natu-: drel, and rm keep. my word.” 23 “What have you done with the old nigger, Clayton?” asked | licemen advanced on him; “and this young fellow is my pris- oner. He is an escaped murderer. I can show you my papers.” %I charge you with having murdered an old'man in Ohio, vil- lain,” cried the judge, “and I also charge you with haying at- tempted to murder the only witness against you this night.” “Attempted to murder!” gasped Pete Clayton, as he released his grasp on Ben. “Yes; thank goodness you did not succeed,” replied the judge. “Guard the scoundrel, and shoot him if he pin td to eseape. Young man, bring in the old negro.” “Here he is, sir!” cried Terry, as he Jed in the real Julius. “Thunder and lightning! ” gasped the baffled detective, “what does it mean?” “Gemmans,” said the old aarky, as he pointed his finger at Pete Clayton, “dat am de man what killed ole Massa Palmer. I swar to Heaben, de villain flung dis poor ole chile.into de ribber dis night.” “And I saw him do it!” cried, Terry, stepping forward, “and I fished the old fellow out.” “Hurrah—hurrah! I’m cleared at last!” cried Ben, as an ; egro. “Oh, Julius—Uncle J ulius—don’t ih embraced: the old n know me? I'm Ben.” , s “Swar to gosh if it ain’t de chile’s voice!” eae Julius, as he stared at Ben. . - “Down with that revolver, you aooundrelt ” yelled the judge, to Pete Clayton. “Oh, you vile wretch!” z “TH get even with you both!” cried Clayton, as he fired aie ; shets in quick succession, aiming at Ben and the old negro. a And then. before the policemen could seize him, he sitet: out Ubrough the door, closing it after him. Jennie uttered a cry of agony, as she saw Ben fall pancath. the old negro; and then all was confusion and uproar. — at “After the fiend!” yelled the judge, rushing out after the others. “There he goes on the ¢arriage! Shoot the horses! " : The fugitive had sprang on the carriage the moment he ~ gained the street; and the next moment he was lashing the } spirited animals, sending them forward at a lightning speed. so eT oe coat collars drawn up over their faces, and he did not recognize |_ CHAPTER XVI. FATHER AGAINST SON, “As I told you before, Mr. Darkmore, I forgive you, for’ Jennie’s sake; but I never can, and I never will, let up on Pete a Clayton.” — ‘ “But he writes to say that he has a sworn confession of Thy transactions written, and that, if he should die, it is in. the ar, hands of a friend, who will publish them—place them before : Judge Burtis, in fact. Do promise me not’ to—”" = “TI can’t do it, Mr. Darkmore; I have sworn to kill the seoumn- a boarding-house three weeks after the sagt of the shooting at Fordham by Pete Clayton. - i The desperate detective escaped that night, idarinie Ben old Abies labs wounded; and though Judge Burtis had Pete Clayton was still at large, defying his ‘enemies, and 1 mg ag see on his old companion: in crime.
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Ra BEN BREVIER, Pete Clayton’s escape, sold out his paper and other property, | the masked figures before him. and then returned to New York city with the money thus real- ; and you can keep my money.” ized, with the purpose of making off for a foreign land should Ben recover and threaten exposure. Then it was that the miserable man received a letter from Pete’ Clayton, calling on him for a large sum of money, and threatening him with dire vengeance if he did not succeed in prevailing on Ben to give up the chase forever. When Tom Darkmore received this letter from Pete Clayton. he was making preparations to start in the steamer for Hurope, and you may be certain that the coward trembled at the threats, well knowing that the rascally See was just the man to carry them out. Through Jennie’s influence, and after a solemn promise that he would refund the money stolen from his dead mother, Ben, consented to forgive his uncle; but he would not consent to give up the fight as against Pete Clayton. j That very night Ben and Terry, who had become devoted |; friends, went, out from the boarding- house together to search for the disguised fugitive. _ Jennie’s father and mother stopped at the boarding-house with their daughter, Mrs, Darkmore having decided to remain with her girl, and share her home in the future. Young Bob Darkmore was also in ‘New York, leading a wild life; and his father suspected that his hopeful som was in saesene with Pete Clayton, who was the acknowledged leader of a gang of desperate criminals. When Tom Darkmore found that he could not prevail on Ben , to give up the fight against Pete Clayton, the frightened man “resolved on leaving New York, and with all the money he could, command. : Halt an hour after Ben and Terry sallied out in search of Pete Clayton, Darkmore stole from the. boarding-house, with his pocket full of bank bills and gold, and made his way to- "wards the Jersey ferry. 7 He had not proceeded far in his sneaking way, when a WA, eee voice hailed him, saying: ~ 4 -“Halloo, father; _ just the man I was pasipoeer for. you off for funds?” ; re have none for you, you seamp. Didn’t I tell you never to come near me again. Clear out, or rit have you arrested.” “Pete Clayton wants to see you, father, " continued Bob, as he kept on. “He's awful mad at you for sent he eth’ him that - money. ae Meal 9 see him ake you hanged first, you young loafer.” “It won’t do, father. I téll you Pete Clayton knows what. you are up to. Tam going to stick to you until you come down with the money. Tam hard up myself, and I want you to come ( down, If you don’t, rl raise a row, and tell Ben you're: make ; _ ing off with all the money you promised him. et arta * _ “Curse you for a young thief,” hissed the harassed man, as he ‘etPuck his son a blow. in the ‘face with a slung-shot. ven that for your trouble.” ~ ! » _. Bob Darkmore fell on the sidewalk without uttering a cry, al nd the father walked | away without wai to examine his niki ha are “Hold to} theré, Tom Darkmore,” said a voice from an Saipan n’t you attempt to run, or, rn pend a, ball after you! Just p right in here.” Be re th half-terrifie man could turn to fy or call tor as- |*Don" t take on, Jennie. “Oh, gentlemen, spare my “You have killed your own son, Tom Darkmore,” replied 4 the leader. “He was a.sworn member of our Rane and | we will avenge him.” “Oh, mercy—mercy,” groaned the wretch, as the robbers drew their knives as if about to rush on him. “Spare my li and I will do anything you say. I will be your slave, rn , Clayton, I will give you all I can scrape up. I will ver party, and do what you ask.” Y “I will spare your life on one condition, Tom Darkaniones said Pete Clayton, ag he drew the trembling man aside. | “What is it?” inquired Darkmore. “Oh, Clayton, you ‘know was always your friend.” ie “I must get Jennie in my power this very night, and you must help me. I mean to marry her, and I mean to entrap’ 2 young fool, Ben, through her. Me “V’ll do anything, Pete, only spare my life,” said the hound, f “Your son is now lying dead, or dying, up at the co continued Clayton. “You go right’ up to the house and Jennie. Get her out to see Bob, and leave the rest 10 Before you go, you must take our oath.” And the mean, cowardly father, in order to save his ow! took the oath administered by the outlaws, after which | led out of the cellar, and made his way toward home, i" CHAPTER XVII. INTO THE ROBBERS” DEN. #| “Oh, I do wish Ben was here.” “Mr, Darkmore—Mr. Darkmore,” erfea Tory, 0 on ‘the your gon Bob. ae “What is it, Terry?” ‘groaned the conscious-s “He’s not dead?” ieee near it, ae Someone knocked him Miss Jennie. ue ; “Run and hurry ufin, Terr ei said Darkmore that seountdrel, Pete Clayton, has robbed me of al I can’t pay Ben, now, unless he | helps me to get it I isn’t he here, when we want him ‘So mueh, - Where oN Judge Burtis. Vm m bound t ger he, Bene tons Bob?” _ “Dead!” replied Ben, in a Yow tania as he ‘ent red Your son. \ faded, : “Then wai are ae to entice | enact Pete Clayton 1 Si
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"yourself to get captured. Vll go with you, you’ know; and. “Terry can steal after the carriage with Judge Burtis. Then we’ ll know where they’ve taken my money to. They won't _Yenain in the cellar, Ben. They were getting ready to move. » when [ left. They are watching this house now. Are you man enough to face Pete Clayton-in Jennie’s clothes?” » “i'll try the experiment, sir,” said Ben, in confident tones, yy “Don’t be alarmed, Jennie, for I'll be all right. Just let me have some of your clothes. ante ae Burtis—we’re on the _ track of the scoundrel again.” “How is that, ene inquired snes Burtis, as he entered the Ben explained eahat had happened to Mr. Darkmore, and told of the plot for oo the outlaws and getting the Hot many be sure, Get on your clothes, if ~'*Zet me play Mrs. Darkmore,” said the fun-loving Terry. ) “A good idea,” Pesponded the judge. “Get ready at once. 4 You lead them out, sir, and tell them, when they get you into i the carriage, that Mrs. Darkmore insisted upon going to see her son at the hospital. Get ready; young man, and you may be sure I’ll be on hand to help you.” .. Five minutes after Tom Darkmore was jeanne two igailed f ‘figures down the street. ri “A carriage, sir?” cried a voice on the corner. “I guess we will take a carriage,” returned Darkmore. “Get ‘in, wife. Jennie, we might as well ride to the hospital.” _ “What did you bring the old woman for, Darkmore?” grow]l- ed the driver, who was no other than Pete Clayton, in a voice intended for Darkmore’s ear only. y entered the carriage. “Drive us to the hospital.” On through the streets rattled the pri and then up to Broad- way. Re “ap A knew they wouldn’t take us ‘to the same thee? whis- pered Darkmore to Ben. “He has only one fellow on the seat with him.” “And I see Judge Burtis with his fcidhil coming after us in a coach,” responded Ben, as he looked behind. “We'll trap ete Clayton this time, sure.” ‘ ‘The cab containing the Bretenece ladies iti at a dingy- “This is the hospital, sir. Ring the bell, and they will let you in.” i will be a hospital for you, you rascal!” thought Ben, “It . CHAPTER XVII. THE LAST STRUGGLE OF apie hen the two disguised ‘friends entered the hall of the}’ where the outlaws ‘were living for the’ time, they were ved by Pete, Clayton and Tom Darkmore; and the two ; nversed in whispers for, some sa pa in the dark : Up to. this time, the late’ editor ‘of the “Beads Samednen! _ his courage with the thought that Ben would kill Péte Clayton: le fatter gould! eS on him for his» ‘treachery, and : from the. daring robbers, _ BEN’ BREVER | possible: “She insisted on seeing her son,” replied, the traitor, as he |, | voice was peculiar.” i. “So you would force Jennie to marry SPORT eA sipped the dark Peis but taking Sg not, to ‘at tent he could searcely reply to the whispered questions put to him by his’ old confederate, in crime. ; “What did you bring your wife for, you old fool?” inquired Pete Clayton. “How in the mischief can we get rid of her?” “I—I—couldn’t help it, Clayton,” faltered Darkmore. “She would come when she heard her son was wounded—dying. p34 “Where’s my poor son?” sobbed Terry, from under Be veil. “Oh, where’s my poor murdered boy?” “We'll lead you to him presently, ma’am,” voowagaaaiber ; Clayton, in a hoarse, disguised voice, as he drew the treach- erous Darkmore to the street door. “Confound it all; can’t you make up some excuse to get her home, Darkmore?” “I'll try, Clayton. My dear wife, poor Bob is not fit to look at—the doctor says. You had better come back to the house until morning. You know you are sick.” : “IT must see my poor boy—deaid or alive,” sobbed Terry, in a faint voice. I won’t leave till I see him, husband.” “Nor I,” blubbered Ben, imitating Jennie’s voice as well as “Oh, my dear brother—where is he?” Then Ben anied to Terry, saying, . in a whisper: ti Y “Look out for Mr. Darkmore, for I’m afraid he’s weakening. I'd like to know how many we have to fight against.” “Mr. Darkmore. says we'll only have to buck against four of them, Ben, and I think we can handle them, as we'll a prise them and fire first.” “We must engineer it so that we can grab the ibe ys also, - Terry. Listen!” “My dear wife,” said -Darkmore, Aaivanetine in sie hall to- wards the disguised friends, “the attendant here suggests that you take a little wine before seeing poor Bob—if you’ ch see him to-night.” “I don’t want any wine,” returned Terry. “Take it—take it,” whispered Ben. “They mean to drug you. Make believe to drink it, and fall asleep. That will give” us a chance to work awhile. Understand?” a “All right,” returned the obedient Terry. se The And raising his voice, he continued, addressing Darkmore: © “Jennie thinks I’d better take a little wine to strengthen . my neryes, husband.” — 5 Pi giehy “Come into this front room, then,” growled -Pete dui Rig: And the designing villain led them all into the front room, which was very scantily furnished With a few chairs; an old sofa, and a round table. : Ses Pete Glayton retired to the back room through a folding door, and the disguised friends could hear the matter of voices within a few moments ‘later. “I fear, Ben,” whispered Darkmore, when they were lett alone, "that I will meet death in this business. ’ Pete Clayton suspects that all is not right now., He noticed that Terry's “Have no fears, sir,” returned Ben. “we? ve got him atiet') where We want him. Terry, you sit in that dark corner on : the sofa, and make believe to go off to sleep after you drink © eg the wine. ‘Don't lift your veil more than you can help.” SRS At that moment, Rete ( Clayton returned to the dimty-tigntea ‘ room, bearing a glass in his hand, and saying: - vs “Let the old lady take this, and I'll’ bring some more the young lady. ’Tis the best of sherry, ma’am. eat “Tinetured with laudanum, you scoundrel, thought “ Terry took the, glass from Tom, Darkmore’s hand, the veil so. as to leave his mouth. “clear to ‘dri n
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26 “That's good,” muttered Terry. strong enough to see my boy.” “Will the young lady take some wine?” inquired the ras- cally detective. “Thank you,” muttered Ben, as he inclined his head. . “He’s going to try to dose me, too,” continued the daring) on the strugglers on the floor, fellow, in a whisper to his cowardly, trembling uncle. “Keep up your heart, sir, and all will end well.” “Twill end in my death, Ben, for I feel it in my bones. He has all the money about him, for I saw it bulging his pockets.” N “Then we'll pitch into him at once. Terry, you make be- lieve to fall asleep, and jump up and open the shutter there the moment I tackle Pete Clayton. Mr. Darkmore, you try and spring out into the hallway and open the front door when the fight begins, and then call.on the police. Judge Burtis is sure to he on hand.” Searcely were those whispered instructions given, when Pete Clayton entered the room with more wine, which he _ handed to the pretended Jennie, saying: ; _. “When you drink this, you can see the young fellow, miss.” “Oh, dear me,” groaned Terry, as he fell back on the sofa, “T do feel so sleepy. I—I don’t know what’s the matter with me. ” In the meantime, Ben had taken the wine gldss in his gloved hand, while Pete Clayton stood in front of him. The moment for decided action had come, and our bold Ben. ; was prepared for it. ; Lifting the glass with one hand and the veil with the other, the young fellow dashed the wine into Ma enemy’s face, as he _eried: “That’s how I block your game, Pete Clayton! you infernal scoundrel!” » And before the astonished scoundrel could realize what struck him, he was lying on the floor, with a pistol to his Take that, head, and Ben’s foot on his breast. Pie j Ben. “ “Open the shutter and sing out, Terry. Mr. Darkmore, "Pete Cle “Otter a word, and I'll, blow your brains out!” “eoiitibtied ey out and open the street door.” “Give me my money, you villain,” said Tom Darkmore, ‘flinging himself on his old friend and grabbing at the roll of ills in his breast pocket. - “You'll get your money, I tell ¥en cried Ben, flinging his avaricious unele aside. “Terry, guard the folding doors.” ’ ferry, in the meantime, had flung open the shutter, and ad shouted to those outside; .while Pete Clayton’s friends in the back room, not knowing what to make of the unex- “pected uproar, had not as yet attempted ‘to appene: on the cene. . “T want my ianeyt ” yelled Tom Darkmore, again attempt- “tne to ‘spring on the prostrate man. “Help, fellows, help!” yelled Pete Clayton, as he Seathveds is desperate position. “Another word, and you are a dead man!” cried Ben, “Terry, ‘shoot the first rascal who forces that door! Confound you for ‘a fool, Mr. Darkmore, why don’t you go and open the street 3 oor? Don’t you hear our friends knocking outside?” ~ “Ha-ha, you treacherous dog!” cried Pete Clayton, as he “floor, ‘Tl settle with you anyhow.” ver him, and the next moment they were rolling on the floor together, Tom Darkmore ealling to Ben to save him, while } ayton was endeavoring oe draw a cae, so as to deal ee engeful: plow. ‘gis Ter “had seized. the handles of the folding ae and was| sisting the efforts of the robbers in the back room BEN. BREVIER. “Now, husband, I feel j on killing his rascally. uncle, was Natreans a chained to shoot | lin uniform, while at each of the two open windows were two | bers. y | forming the marriage ceremony; and our old friend, Ter and it tigave them a fair start’ in life. eized Tom Darkmore by the leg and hi ea him to the} The desperate detective managed to pull his old Srteneraes the following are in print: 1 to 5, 7, 8,10 to 46:4 29 to 81, 84 to 36, 38, 39, - 43, isto * 54, 55, 67, his old enemy. ; At that moment, a manly voice was heard at the ‘window, and then in sprang Judge Burtis, revolver in hand. “Surrender, you scoundrels!” he cried, as he made a ast “Oh, he’s murdered me!” gasped Tom Darkmore, as he sank ; back on the fioor, the blood gushing from his throat. “And V’ll murder more of you!” yelled the now infuria Pete Clayton, making a dash at Ben. “At them, men!” Bang—bang—bang! went the revolvers in the hands: ot Judge Burtis and the two young printers, as four of Clayton’s gang burst through the folding doors. ; And down went three of Pete Clayton’s friends, with bu in their bodies; but the desperate leader escaped see to the back room, followed by one of his gang. “After them!” cried Judge Burtis. “The house is ‘aig ed_on all sides, and they cannot escape, g : “Pete Clayton shan’t eScape, anyhow!” cried Ben, pushing in after his old enemy. “Ha! you infernal rogue, I've ‘got you at last!” And Pete Clayton was fairly cornered. Standing at the door of the back room were two ‘elie oe ie more, and all presenting their revolvers at the surprised “rob. *Will you surrender, robbers?” demanded sudee Buti, é he leveled his weapon at the leader. “Never!” cried Pete Clayton, making a dash for the totain doors, The next instant out flashed two discharges, ani” thea Pete Clayton fell, with an oath on his lips, never to rise agai When Judge Burtis and the others lifted Tom Darkmo: from the floor, they found that life was extinct. — And in his right hand, with a deadly grip fastened on it, was the roll of bilis of which he had been robbed. * * yr. * * * * v Our story closes with a scene in Judge: Burtis’ house — Fordham, on a night some thirteen Cones after the dea Pete Clayton. Jennie and Ben are standing emis: a saneeeae, who is per~ i F is the groomsman.: \ Standing in the background is’ the old negro, Juliug, had succeeded in‘ proving Ben’s innocence of. the fearful Ben was pardoned by the Governor of Ohio; and he hi started in the printing business, with Terry as a foreman. Bob Darkmore was killed by the slungshot blow istered by his father; and Mrs. Darkmore soon died of a broken heart, though she never learned that Bee husl killed her son. , Jennie and Ben recovered the money in the TOUSEN THE END. SPECIAL NOTICE: All back’ numbers of this:
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PLUCK AND LUCK. | Pluck and Luck. NEW YORK, MARCH 24, 1909. Terms to | Subscribers. a j | Singte ‘Copies...../..4.... One Copy Three Poe 4 One Copy Six Months.. i ; PAE CONG SORELY COR ici. ice sc ccc vindecscasthbietecuneae¥s Postage Free. ; How To Senp Monsey, » ' Ate our risk send P. O. Money Order, Check, or Registered Letter; re- 6 accept Postage 7 mittances in any other way are at your risk, ; Stamps the same ascash. When sending silver wrap the coin in a separate piece of paper toavoid cutting the Sony Write your NAME w s plainly, Address letters to ‘Frank Tousey, Publisher, a4 Union Sq., New York. THINGS OF INTEREST. “A cork leg?” said the dealer. “Why, man, a cork leg would : erumble under you like a leg of bread. You don’t want a cork leg, but an elm or willow one.” “I thought the best ones were cork—the lightest, you know.” “No, indeed. A leg was never made of cork since the world’s beginning. But _ many men think as you do, and I’ll tell you how the fallacy a originated. The inventor of the modern artificial leg—the - leg instead of the stick—was John Cork. Cork’s legs, cork legs, were famous around 1810, And whenever a man makes _ your mistake he pays an “unconscious tribute to Cork’s skill.” URL aN ee Pe eo The desert of Sahara will soon be traversed by a telegraph line, All the details of the scheme have been worked out, : and it is a matter of only a few months before the project _-will be in operation. The work is being done by the French government, which purposes to _connect~all its possessions in Northern Africa by. wire. The poles will be of metal and x will be placed 100 meters apart, supporting the wire at a . distance from the ground sufficient to permit of the passage of a man on camel back. ‘It will be necessary to maintain a guard along the line, and a regular inspection will be made every two weeks, In the meantime guards aré to be held in ‘readiness to go out on a tour of inspection in case any in- terruption to the service is reported. Supplies will be main- ‘tained along the line for these parties. When the line has been completed it will form a valuable link in the means we ‘communication in the Dark Continent. ‘I es x r : ‘The cultivation ‘of the sisal plant in the Bahamas has ‘increased so” ‘much in the four years since it was introduced “by Goy. Shea that it is pushing the sponge industry very hard, A correspondent predicts that the full development of the fiber plant will make a wonderful position for the little “island in the commercial world. The sisal plant has always grown wild on the islands, and has been looked upon as one of the. greatest pests, as it was almost impossible for the “native farmers to eradicate it from the soil, its hardy bayonets “appearing in the midst. of every crop and refusing to be lestroyed. Gov. Ambrose Shea discovered that the fiber of the leaves when stripped of the outer covering of green was the: firmest - and whitest of rope fibers, and, soliciting the aid Si aes eayinle he at ‘once set to work to make the sisal ‘last reassure Irving: ay from twelve to fifteen years. Only the poorest and scantiest soil is necessary, and no climatic effects influence the growth of the plant in the least, (All the available land in the island has been bought up by: capitalists since the sisal boom, and the government has already received a fund of $250,000 from , bounties and grants, which will be used in public works on the island. The sisal industry has spread to neighboring islands, and plenty of employment is given the natives at from 50 cents to a dollar a day. They have also been allowed to buy government land in ten-acre lots at $10 each, paying for it out of the first year’s crop. In this way many of them have become independent, a ready market always existing for their products. OUR COMIC COLUMN. The worst thing about my visit to Kentucky this summer,” said the girl who had come home, “was that the horse Cousin Hal lent me to ride always took me up to the side door of the corner saloon in the little town, and would not budge until I jumped off his back and mounted again. Not one of the men of the family would admit that they ever rode the horse,” “I once spurned a bribe of $100,000,” said the orator, nat- urally evoking a round of applause. “Nay, friends, do not cheer,” he continued. “It is the duty of all to be honest. Be sides, the services demanded by the brazen scoundrel were worth double the money.” 3 The elderly lady who was looking through the shop of a dealer in knick-knacks picking up a small handbag. “Are you sure,” she inquired, “that this is a real crocodile skin?” “Ab- solutely certain, madam,” replied the dealer. “I shot that - crocodile myself.” “It looks rather soiled,” observed his cus: — tomer. “Naturally, madam,” explained the salesman. “That — is where it struck the ground when it tumbled off the tree.” Scene+Hamilton South Haugh; soldier supposed to have been wounded is brought to surgeon’s tent by bearers. Bearer, — reporting—Severe scalp wound, sir, accompanied with insen- — sibility. Surgeon—Well, what have you done? Bearer— — Dressed the wound, sir, and gave him a little whisky and water. Surgeon—Whisky and water! How did you expect an insensible man to swallow that? Bearer—He axed for't, airs Magistrate—This affair looks to me more like a common dog-fight than a ease of assault and battery. You claim that . this man assaulted you, and that you did not even try to de fend yourself; yet he bears the marks of your teeth in three» ; places. How do you account for that? Plaintiff—Well, it was ES jest like this. He hurt me so when he was a-poundin’ of me — 2 that I had ter haye sumthin’ ter bite on or I sap laa a stood it, , Pe eX Once Sir Henry. Irving, while playing “Macbeth” in ‘namie = W's somewhat disconcerted by one of the “gallery gods.” - He had reached the paint where Macbeth orders” Banquo’s ghos to leave the banquet. board. “Hence, horrible shadow, unreal mockery, hence!” exclaimed Irving in his most. tragic tones, ee, id with a convulsive shudder ‘sank to the ground, drawing his .| robe about his face. Just as Banquo withdrew, an agitated : cockney voice from high up in the ‘gallery piped out as if to Bs ate all right aA ROT 3s *e" Ss ; gone!”
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THE OPIUM MANIAC By HORACH APPLETON. “Hew people outside of the medical profession have any idea of the extent of the use of opium in-this country; now-and then”a newspaper article gives a ‘description of the use of opium by the Chinese, and speaks of the opium habit as a vice peculiar to that country. They deplore it in the Chinese, but’ how much more should they deplore it, since, in its fiend- ish encroachments on the reason of those who use it, it is yearly placing hundreds of its victims in insane asylums in our country.” These words I found endorsed by my uncle on the back of one of his manuscripts, opening which I was deeply interested for several hours in reading his analysis of the effect of opium on the human mind. His remarks were illustrated by two eases, which I herewith present to my TeQders; in almost the exact words of my uncle. Poor Dick! He was a schoolmate in the years agone, and ' many a jolly good time we've had together: How we used to go sledding with the girls on a moonlight winter’s night, and _ what royal times we used to have aging on the old mill pond. Well, well— such is life! Poor Dick! In that long ago time who would have thought that it would ever be my province to keep you under jock / and key, and that I should come to write of you, to use, you as . an illustration of opium madness! How Dick Nelson first came to touch opium is unknown, but as he was a sufferer from neuralgia it is supposed that he first » took it to ease the pain. Finding that it succeeded, he used it ‘again when the first symptoms of pain appeared, and dt last, from using it as a cure, began to use it as a preventive, 13 Talk of liquor’s craving! It in nowise compares with the eraving for opium. Dick stopped using it, but immediately the neuralgia returned, and again he sought relief in the in- 3 sidious drug, until at last—sick or well—he was compelled to take it. | ae Dick Nelson was not well, his friends said, put none guess- 4 ed the horrible truth, for he had sense enough left to be f ashamed of the habit, and therefore religiously eoncealed it. And for the same reason his wife and. daughter kept the secret - locked in their breasts. eae beseeched him to give up abs use of the pernicious all ‘else, he was weak as a child where opium was P eonadtticd: oS Thad not seen Dick in a long time, and one night I suddenly | - resolved to pay him p. visit. a3 ‘felt his hand tremble as I held it in mine. when we inet. Prond this secret.” “He knew that I had ‘dong so, and flushed painfully : ae ina very ‘delicate: Gostiion: Friendship vie ‘ie. poor fol: ig low prompted me to ‘speak to him, to warn him of the dan- Ss gers. fa oe ‘but delicacy held ‘me silent. se of opium, which a epee ibs to tae i tryt” said the peer: fellow. PLUCK AND LUCK. -| business. hadoeamatedl: “he ese te it carefully “For, the sake ot That he did try there is no doubt., But the demon could not be exorcised. This I knew when I heard that Nelson no longer went ¢ “Ho has worked hard and his health i is failing, ones mu- tual friend, but he knew not what I did. .* People called on the Nelsons, but Dick was never to pe “He kept much to his room,” said his wife and and none guessed what lay underneath the answer. Poor Dick! Fully aroused to the horrors of the siti nation, battled fiercely with the fiend which had caught him ambrace as death-like in its character as the coils of t : ed cobra. There were times when he would ate in with sheer ness, and so steep himself with the drug as to lie for a pleasant stupor, pleasant to him, and filled with, ge dreams; and then again he would for a brief realize the anguish he was inflicting on his oe ter, and then he would go nearly wild; these la invariably followed by some hours of deep moodiness, dur which his red eyes would fasten themselves on ug! with a peculiar and fearful expression. At length the climax came. and no pee went near him. But Alice, his daughter, ; pending on his deep affection for her as a safeguar ‘di hesitate to go near him, no matter in pil ee anor ine to be. “Ob, the disgrace—the disgrace!” he aigieeea oni ao not care for myself! Suppose I do die’ from” But io’ “eve Alice ‘Dehind bearing the stigma bea wou attached to he ; knitted, togther. Bi ert “She shall not Be. left bebina! al ; ie and awful truth, | The opium had done its work! Dick Nelson was They. knew not. that. he had a revolver’ ee posses: perfect working, order. a ; “Ha, hal” and he: laughed, or rather’ chucked, ish toné which: is alone found on the lip of th ha! I hear footsteps! Alice—my Aap to Heaven Rarer z ie Fe her father and had turned to eee x oticte of the pistol lock ah ea her caused her at was an ‘awful moment of suspense 4 ‘| ‘Alice acted differently from’ what she been séaled.. But she had fo orese | go stark mad, and Pee od mn eplmaly | the e
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rT * i ! PLUCK AND LUCK. = *. 2 “because I will soon be dead, and I want you with me in| doses of opium; they had kept him entirely without it for a Heaven.” 72 . lyear, and then discharged ‘him. His wife and daughter took him _ Rapidly had her mind worked on the problem presented, |to Europe, where he afterwards died. 1 also find that the and she now quite calmly said: coachman survived his wound, and being given a large sum by _ “Very well, father, it shall. be as you wish. I have always | Mrs. Nelson, went into the livery business for himself, and is “been a dutiful daughter and will be so still; but does it not | now running a stable in New York.) 4 ‘Strike you that it would be nicer for us to go there together| The other case of insanity from the use of opium which I ‘than for me to go before you and all alone?” found coupled with that of Nelson, was that of a woman, and He seemed to ponder a minute. can be related in a very few words, . “Jupiter!” he then exclaimed. “I believe you’re right, Alice.| She was of a highiy nervous temperament, writes my uricle. But you must promise me that when I want you to die you'll] Rarely have I ever met with a case which so thoroughly do so.” aroused my sympathies.” — '. “I promise,” and furtively eyeing her father, =te saw him put} The woman spoken of was also a personal acquaintance of “down. the deadly weapon. my uwnele’s; young, beautiful, talented, and greatly admired. | » Poor girl! Every nerve was unstrung, but by a supreme ex- She was a society belle, dashing, gay, brilliant, and none rtion of will she managed to smooth out his bed, and then | new or guessed that her very existence was made a curse by With a light word and a smile, tripped from the room, closing | the use of opium. Pand then softly locking the door behind her, and for the first!” fenry Medhurst’ met and loved handsome Bertha iulsey, pume making ‘her father a prisoner. and, after running the gauntlet for years, to him she surren- ‘Then she broke down completely, and staggering into her | geieq her affections. i mother’s sitting-room, fell upon the floor in a faint. She was revived quickly, and flinging her arms about her other’s neck she brokenly said: e “It’s all over, mother. He is mad—dangerously so! Send tor the doctor. é “T must conquer this awful habit, “she resolutely said, when he had told her of his love, when she saw in the future the prospect of becoming his wife. if And resolutely she set to work, but the task was too much for her, and with a horrible’ fear gnawing ag her heart, she , Half an hour Jater the Nelson coachman hastily entered my | watched’the approach of the wedding day. ‘Office. Suppose he should find it out? She shuddered at the thought. — “Mrs. Nelson says you're to come at once,” he said, breath- Should she fell him the truth? It would be the true and honest © ssly, “Mr. Nelson’s in a very bad way, I guess.” plan, but—it would kill her to lose him, she loved him so deep- _ “Go right back and tell them I'll be there as soon as pos-| jy—and she kept the fatal knowledge to herself. ble.” Someone guessed the truth, and hinted it to Henry Medhurst, | I called a.servant. I had had an engagement, and must tell} She denied it point-blank. er to have the party await my return. My horse and buggy} “He need never know,” she said to. nereeit. afterward: “And tod before the door, and I was soon tearing away like mady when I am his wife I will have greater strength to battle with ward Nelson’ 8. fie curse of my life. And”—she paused and frowned darkly— Meanwhile Dick had discovered that oe door was’ locked, his “if worst comes to worst, if he reproaches me, I can end my berty restrained. life and so rid him of my presence.” — Tt roused him to ferocity, and grabbing his revolver, he} And that very day she placed in her bosom a tiny vial con- ‘Started across the room at full speed, and his strength and| taining poison; and that vial tiever left its hiding place from a weight carried the door from its hinges. that hour to the hour in which she died. Bai Howling—cursing—stamping—he rushed ‘downstairs and| Hers was not a case of violent insanity like ‘that of Nelson. to the parlor, which the coachman had he entered to akhas She was very quiet, seemed sensible, and in ‘possession of every Thy message. faculty, yet was not so, for a person who can deliberately plan In his fury, the aden saw in the ae an object on | self-murder and carry out that plan can never be of sounds, ? hich to wreak his vengeance, and seizing him by the wrist by mind. phere us peculiar twist, brought him down on his knees on the car- Rumors as to the trath grew more plentiful, but As ste ‘dented Xe -' In another second the deadly weapon was at the head of them, Henry Medhurst, bound by honor, could vi quietly pre- he. frightened ‘eoachman, whose whole body was quivering | pare for the approaching wedding day. j + ‘ terror, whose under Jaw was dropped in horror, whose} ‘That day dawned at last, dawned bright and beautiful, and. was as pallid as that of a corpse, while above hini, with} peptha Halsey clad herself in the dress of a bride—a adress she aggard face, and bloodshot, ik ei ges flashing eyes, was | was destined to wear to the grave, : the maniac. — ; : Before the altar, while the minister was saying the words to. Too 1 te! ‘Crack! A puff of smoke, a wild shriek, and th the make her the wife of the man she loved, she experienced that man was lying at full length, i 3 : horriblé inward sinking, that intense eraving; her brain whirl- “Ha, ha, ha!” yelled the ‘madman. “Your promise, Alice! | eq, her sight dimmed—she must haye opium or die! _ Det our promise! T now claim at and the murderous revolver} She tried to slip it into her mouth untetecton, but Hi x 8: turned on his’ ideugbter just as I Babe Se the house and} Medhurst stopped her hand. is ai “Opium!” he said, in an accusing, stern tone. “ertha you | have. deceived pH MR ficis me For one minute, ‘she ‘allied against ‘the ‘horrible ae “I did deceive you, for which Goa forgive me. Forgi }| Henry, for I hoped to conquer the appetite, ut: I see I ea Life without you, would Dep blank. Good-by, orever— ijete , lo or ‘held’ me ssuntaina for a sine heey and then Tt pran, caine and | up the peaey s arm in time to. send
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These Books Tell You Everything! 4 COMPLETE SET IS A REGULAR ENCYCLOPEDIA! Wach book consists of sixty-four pages, printed on good paper, in clear type and neatly bound in an attractive, ilfustrated Most of the books are also profusely illustrated, and all of the subjects treated upon are explained in such a simple manner th oe ean thoroughly undecstand them. Look’ over the list as classified and see if you want to know anything about the sul mentioned. ‘ 2358: ; THESE BOOKS ARE FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS OR WILL RH SENT BY MAIL TO ANY FROM THIS OFFICE ON RECEIPT OF PRICE, TEN OHNTS BAGH, OR ANY THREE BOOKS FOR TWEN CENTS. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAMB AS MONBY, Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, MESMERISM. No. 72. HOW TO DO SIXTY TRICKS WITH CA No. 81. HOW TO MHSMERIZE.—Containing the most ap- | bracing all of the latest and most deceptive card tri roved methods of mesmerism; also how to cure all kinds of | ustrations. By A. Anderson. pata denen by animal magnetism, or, magnetic healing. By Prof. Leo No. 77. HOW TO DO FORTY TRICKS WITH © H Koch, A, CG. S. “ R 2 Containing deceptive Card Tricks as performed by leading PRS eee Ay Oa Bee decshine os How, ep Mer pobings” sees and magicians. Arranged for home amusement, Fully - f PALMISTRY. ; No. 82: HOW TO DO PALMISTRY.—Containing the most ap- MAGIC. : proved methods of reading the lines on the hand, together with| No. 2. HOW TO DO TRICKS.—The great book | a full explanation of their meaning. Also explaining phrenology, | card tricks, containing full instraction on alt the | a] and the key for telling character by the bumps on the head. By | of the day, also the most popular magical illusions as Leo Hugo Koch, A. C. S. Fully illustrated. our leading magicians; every boy should obtain a copy HYPNOTISM. as it will both amuse and instruct. Sh No. 83. HOW, TO HYPNOTIZE.—Containing valuable and in-| oxnigined Lege 20 DO Se ae gees 4 J : ? plaining | structive information regarding the science of hypnotism. Also ; = nae ‘ cian at explaining the most approved methods which are employed by the me OY ae, a eee payee one dicen i Theo leading hypnotists of the world. By Leo Hugo Koch, A.C.S. authentic explanation of second sight. SPORTING. No, 48. HOW TO BECOME A M No. 21. HOW TO HUNT AND FISH.—The most complete hunting and fishing guide ever published. It contains’ full in- structions about guns, hunting dogs, traps, trapping and fishirg, together with descriptions of game and fish. : o. 26. HOW TO ROW, SAIL AND BUILD A BOAT.—Fully illustrated. Hyery boy should know how to row and sail a boat. Full instructions are given in this little book, together with in- 6tructions on swimming and riding, companion sports to boating. 70. HOW No. 47. HOW TO BREAK, RIDE AND DRIVE A HORSHE.— ai iV. W TO MA 4 : ein 5 ae ee on the horse, pete the most useful Boe ray eee ei aiheee ee s and devices of many kinds, ‘or business, the best horses f d; also valuabl i Cod ae < = aiee i Gaunt ode eae Tot ee No. 73.. HOW. TO DO TRICKS WITH NUMBERS.—Showin; No. 48. HOW TO BUILD AND SAIL CANOES.—A handy reseed gee ao bondi fete and the magic of numbers. book for boys, containing full directions for constructing canoes | *20eTSon. AU ustrated. ey ptr ei and the’ most popular manner of sailing them. Fully illustrated. No. 75, HOW TO BECOMB A CONJUROR. — Conte ” By ©. Stansfield Hicks. Z tricks with Dominos, Dice, Cups and Balls, Hats, ete. Embi at thirty-six illustrations. By A. Anderson. NO et roe FORTUNE TELLING. | No. 78. HOW TO DO THE BLACK ART.—Con' No. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DREAM BOOK.-— | plete description of the mysteries of Magic and Sle Containing the great oracle of human destiny; also the true‘mean-| together with many wonderful experiments, B. ing of almost any kind of dreams, together with charms, ceremonies, | Illustrated. ; RSE ee eat ee oy #ONo. 28, HOW 10 HXPLAIN DRUAMS-—Dverybody dreams! 40. MECHANICAL, 0. 23. rO F BAMS.—LEiverybody dreams, No. nes et a, Eo darn ans y “bore § 0. 29. HOW TO BECOME AN INVENTOR.—# from the little child to the aged man and woman. This little book should know how. inventions originated, This book expl all, giving examples in electricity, hydraulics, magnet » gives the Sac scabion, to all basen of dreams, eee nae lucky ang anluel iy GW 0 TELE FORTUNE Livenone sltoke of pneumatics, mechanics, etc. The most instructive book. knowing what his future life will bring forth, whether happiness or | . i 56. HOW TO BECOME AN ENGINEHR.—Con: faining misery, wealth or poverty. You can tell bya glance at this little | structions how to Broces in order’ to become a locomotive ; ; L : gineer; also directions for building a model locomotive; to book. Buy one and be convinced. Tell your own fortune. Tell with a full deaoriphon of , ¥ the fortune of your friends. : n of everything an engineer shoul "No. 76. HOW TO THLL FORTUNES BY THB HAND — aie gc TO MAKE MUSICAL INSTRUME Containing rules for telling fortunes by the aid of lines of the hand, rece a — make a Banjo, Violin, Zither, Mol ér the secret of palmistry.. Also the secret of telling future events | Phone and other musical instruments; together th scription of nearly every musical instrument usec hy a of moles, marks, scars, etc, Mlustrated. By A, Anderson.| -cdorn times. Profusely illustrated. By Algernon : ATHLETIC... : for twenty years bandmaster of the Royal Bengal No, 6. HOW TO BECOME AN ATHLETDH.—Giving full in- “0. 59. HOW TO MAKE A MAGIC LANTE struction for the use of dumb bells, Indian clubs, parallel. bars, | 4 description of the lantern, together with its histo1 OS — and various other er) a cbvelgning ‘ good, ise oa e pond for ven use and for painting sli¢ ealthy muscle; containing over sixty illustrations. Hyery boy can | illus d. r John Alien. ~~ REIN Fy é sored strong and healthy by following the instructions contained| ‘No. 71. HOW TO DO MECHANICAL TRICK ‘in thig little book. performi: No. 10. HOW aS ee ax of me ceteting ne A. Anderson, Fully illustrated. Containing over thirty illustrations of guards, blows, and the differ-| . y : tie ; af ent itions of a godd boxer. very boy should obtain one of : LETTER | RITING. ‘i sie geeeen A es No. 11. HOW TO WRITE LOVE-LETTERS- plete little book, containing full directions for writing these useful and instructive books, as it will teach you how to box ‘without an instructor. x Sages ; ; ae ee eae rectlond for No. 25. SHOW TO BECOME A GYMNAST.—Containing fu to em, giving specimen letters for y -{nstructions for all kinds of gymnastic sports and athletic exercises,| No. 12. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO Embracing thirty-five illustrations. By Professor W. Macdonald. _ A handy and useful book. Pet S if j No. 34. HOW TO FHNCH.—Containing full instruction for _ fencing and the use of the broadsword; also instruction in archery. Described with twenty-one practical illustrations, giving the best ons in fenzing. A complete book. Fg Be ___ TRICKS WITH CARDS... No. 51. HOW TO DO TRICKS WITH CARDS.—Containing | bod explanations of the general principles of sleight-of-hand applicable ireard tricks; of card tricks with ordinary cards, and not requiring leight-of-hand; of tricks involving sleight-of-hand, < Ae Use O} Bercew Steunkek vai, Se Eee: Meta 3
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oa? % $ THE STAGE... 4 _ No, 41. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK END MEN’S JOKE ‘BOOK.—Containing a great variety of the latest jokes used by the Most famous end men: No amateur minstrels is complete without this wonderful little book. ; ’ J : | No. 42. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK STUMP SPHAKER.— Containing a varied assortraent of stump speeches, Negro, Dutch @nd Irish. Also end men’s jokes. Just the thing for home amuse- Ment and amateur shows. > No. 45. THH BOYS OF NEW YORK MINSTREL GUIDE AND JOKH BOOK.—Something new and very instructive, Every | boy should obtain this book, as it contains full instructions for or- Sanizing an amatenr minstrel troupe. ; | No, 65. MULDOON’S JOKES.—This is one of the most original, joke books ever published, and it is brimful of wit and humor, It Contains a large collection of songs, jokes, conundrums, etc, of Terrence Muldoon, the great wit, humorist, and, practical joker of btain a copy immediately. : No. 79: HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR.—Containing com- ete instructions how to make-up for various charatters on the itage; togéther with the duties of the Stage: Manager, Prompter, Weenie Artist and Property Man. By a prominent Stage Manager. ‘No. 80. GUS WILLIAMS’ JOKE BOOK—-Containing the lat- at jokes, anecdot:; and funny stories of this world-renowned and ver popes German comedian. Sixty-four pages; handsome olored ceyer containing a half-tone photo of the suthor. i é HOUSEKEEPING. » No. 16. HOW TO KEEP “. WINDOW GARDEN.—Containing full instructions for constructing a window garden either in town or country, and the most apfroved methods for raising beautiful owers at home. The most complete book of the Kind ever pub- shed. _ No. 30. HOW TO COOK.—One of the most instructive books on cooking ever published. ; It contains recipes for cooking meats, ‘fish, game, and oysters; also pies, puddings, cakes and all kinds.o ] estty and a grand collection of recipes by one of our most popular fooks. ‘*verybody, boys, girls, men and women; it will teach you how to Make almost anything around the house, such as parlor ornaments, brackets, cements, Aeolian harps, and bird Jime for catching birds. \ a ELECTRICAL. é No. 46. HOW TO MAKE AND USH ELECTRICITY.—A de- tcription of the wonderful uses of electricity and electro passim: together with full instructions for making Hlectrie Toys, Batteries, etc. By George Trebel, A. M., M. D. Containing over fifty il- lustrations. _ No. 64. HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL MACHINES.—Con- taining full directions for making electrical machines, induction Oils, dynamos, and many novel toys to be worked by electricity. By R.A. R. Bennett. Fully illustrated, ; No. 67. HOW TO DO ELECTRICAL TRICKS.—Containing a ‘arge collection of instructive and highly amusing e@lectrizal tricks, gether with illustrations, By A. Anderson. ; ENTERTAINMENT. No. 9. HOW TO BECOME A VENTRILOQUIST.—By Harry mnedy. ‘Che secret given away. Wvery intelligent boy reading hook 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 DPNTHERTAIN AN EVENING PARTY.—A y valuable little book just published. A complete compendium mes, sports, card diversions, comic recitations, etc., suitable “parlor or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more for the ney than any boo ont ere : yw TO PLAY GA\.BHS.—A complete and useful little ’ _ the rrles and regulations of billiards, bagatelle, —P ise bet ‘gammon, erogqu t. dxminoes, etc. ; ne : 0. 36. OW. SQLYE. CONUNDRUMS.—Containing all e leading conu! SO the day, amusing riddles, curious catches d witty sayings. ty ; O. 8 How T ) PLAY CARDS.—A complete and handy little book, giving the rules and full directions for playing Euchre, Orib- age, Casino, Forty-Five, Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, Auction Pitch, All Fours: and many other popular games of cards, No. 66: HOW TO DO PUZZLES.—Containing over three hun- uzzieg and conundrums, with. key to same. fully illustrated. By A. Anderson. eae - ETIQUETTE. Ee No. 13. HOW TO DO IT; OR, BOOK OF HTIQUHTTH.—Iit 8 ‘a great life seeret, and one that every young man desires to know dred interesting Somplete book. ‘about, 'There’s happiness in it, : No 3a: HOW TO BEHAVH.—Containing the rules and etiquette good*society and the easiest and most approved methods of ap- Dearing to good advantage at parties, balls; he drawing-room. = DECLAMATION. {2} le Containing the most popular selections in us alect French dialect, antes and Irish di mang standard readings, me : withvut on be day. Hvcry boy who can enjoy a good substantial joke should No, 37. HOW TO KEPP HOUSH.—Tt contains information for | the theatre, church, and | weiss No. 27. OW TO RECITE AND BOOK or RACITATIONS. No, 31, HOW TO BECOME A SPHAKHR.=Containing foure 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 ip the most - simple and concise manner a iS iy No. 49. HOW TO DEBATH.—Giving rules for conducting de- bates, outlines for débates,. questions for discussion, and the best sources for procuring information on the questions given, SOCIETY. 4 No. 3. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirtation are fully explained by this little book. Besides the various methods handkerchief, fan, glove, parasol, window and hat flirtation, it con- tains a full list of the language and sentiment of flowers, which is interesting to everybody, both old and young. You cannot be happy, "No. 4, HOW TO DANCE is the title of a new and handsome little book just issued by Prank Tousey. It contains full instrue- tions in the art of dancing, etiquette in the ball-room and at partied, . ey to dress, and full diregtions for calling off in all popular square ances. he a ' No. 5. HOW TO MAKE LOVH.—-A complete, guide to love, courtship and marriage, giving sensible advice, rules and etiquette to be observed, with many curious and interesting things not. gen- erally known, s : No, 17. HOW TO DRESS.—Containing full instruction in the art of dressing and appearing well at home and abroad, giving the selections of colors, material, and how to have them made up, No, 18. HOW TO BECOME BMAUTIFUL.—One of the brightest and most valuable little books over given to the world. ldverybody wishes to know how te become beantiful, both male and ~ female. ‘he secret is simple, and almost costless. Read this book and be convinced how to become beautiful. i a BIRDS AND ANIMALS. es & No. 7% HOW TO KEEP BIRDS.—Handsomely illustrated and containing full instructions for the management and training of the canary, mockingbird, bobolink, pa ae Nati ce ete. 4 No. 39. HOW TO RAISE DOGS, POULTRY, PIGHONS AND RABBITS.—A useful and instructive book. Handsomely illus- trated. By Tra Drofraw. \ No. 40. HOW TO MAKE AND SHT TRAPS.—Including hints on how to catch moles, weasels, otter, rats, squirrels and birds,» ae how’ to cure skins, Copiously illustrated. By J. Harrington eene. i cyt No. 50. HOW TO STUFF RIRDS AND ANIMALS.—£ yaluable book, giving instructions in collecting, preparing, mounting and presétying birds, animals and insects. No.-54. HOW TO.-KBEP AND MANAGH PY'TS.—Giving com- plete information as to the manner and method of raising, keeping, taming, breeding, and managing ull kinds of pets; also giving full instructions for making cages, etc. Fully explained by twenty-eight — illustrations, making it the most complete book of the kind ever - published. - kes nS 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, and di- rections for making fireworks, colored fires, and gas balloons.. This book cannot be equaled. . See ‘ No. 14. HOW TO MAKE CANDY.—A complete hand-book for making all ki Wis of candy, ice-cream ayrur ,essences, etc. etc. _- No. 84. HOW TO BECOME AN AUTHOR.—Containing full information regarding choice of subjects, the use of words and the- manner of preparing and ‘submitting manuscript, Also containing — valuable information as toithe neatness, legibility and general com- position of manuscript, essential to a successful author. By Prince ‘Hiland, RES? HOW TO BECOME YOUR OWN DOCTOR.—A won- erful book, containing usef1l and practical information in the treatment of ordinary diseases and ailments common to every. family. Abounding in useful and effective recipes for general com- laints. ; , . - No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS AND COINS.—Con- - © taining valuable information regard ng t!.e collecting and arranging of stamps and coins.. Handsomely illustratd. ae J » No. 58. HOW TO BE A DETEOTIVE.—By Olc King Brady, the world-known detective, In which he lays down some. valuable and seusible hi es eteigii ane also relates some adventures — and experiences of well-known detectives. . ee) No. 60. HOW TO BECOME A PHOTOGRAPHER.—Contain- A|ing useful information regarding the Camera and how to work it; “\dlso how t6 make Photographie Magic Lantern Slides and other Boer Handsomely illustrated. By Captain W. De W. bney. : x "No. 62. HOW. TO BHCOMH A WEST POINT MILITARY nt Military 3 F
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oe Latest Issues a “WORK AND WIN” ~ CONTAINING THE GREAT FRED FEaRNoT Srorizs, he CotorEp Covers. 32 Pagus, Price 8 Cen7s. 527 Fred Fearnot’s Big Heart; or, Working as Avenger. 5383 Fred Yearnot and the “Silent Five”; or, Ager Basket 528 Fred Fearnot’s Rescue, of Evelyn; or, Racing at a Mile a - Honors, Minute. ; ; sa Fred Fearnot and the Hall-Boy; or, The Great Hotel 529 Fred Fearnot’s Best Friend; or, How His Mother Saved tery, - Him: 535 Fred Fearnot’s Hockey Team; or, Out to Win the Ci 530 Fred Fearnot’s I¢e Champion; or, Skating for Gold and | 536 Fred Fearnot’s Slide pd Life; or, Lost in the Gr Glory. Blizzard. ; 4 531 Fred Fearnot’s Lucky Shot; or, Getting the Best of a Foe. | 687 Fred Fearnotin the Slums; or, The Mystery of a thes 532 Fred Fearnot’s Snow-Shoe Boys; or, Six Days in Labrador. City. “SWEDE AWAKE WEEKLY” Containing StoRIES OF A Boy’s ScHooLDAYs. Cotorep Covers. 32. Pacus, Price 5 Ghee 145 Dick Daresome’s [ce Victory; or, Skating a Race Against 1159 Dick Daresome’s Man Hunt: Br, A Ten-Mile Chase ee Robbers. 146 Dick Daresome’s Struggle for Leadership; or, Getting ‘ Ahead of His Rivals. 151 Dick Daresome’s Dark Days; mt ire ois by a Bo s] 147 Dick Daresome’s “Flying Gull”; or, Winning the Ice-Boat ceit. if Contest. - |152 Dick Daresome’s Wild Toboggan Ride ” 148 Dick Daresome and the Village Toughs; or, A Battle B Against Odds. i on the Mountain Side. : 149 Dick Daresome’s Hockey League; or, Winning Out for ees Dick Daresome and'the Lynchers; aie ; | Merrivale, =" Innocent Man. Comanne Srorrns or Boys WHO Maxe Money. i ~ CoLorEp Covers. 32 Paczs. : ‘472 Eastman & Co., Stocks and Bonds; or, The Twin Boy|177 Dick, the Boy Lawyer; or, Winning. a ‘Big | ‘ee, _ Brokers of Wall. Street. 178 Broker Dexter's New Boy; or, A Young Innocent in 398 The Little Wizard; or, The Success of a Young Inventor, oa Strect. t it : “174 After the Golden. Hagles; or, A Lucky Young ae Street | 179 From Mill to Millions; or, The Poor Broker. A Lats a Steel Magnate. : 175 A Lucky Lad; or, The Boy Who Made a Railroad Pay. | 180 Three Game Speen; or, The wall st eet 1 176 Too Good to Last; or, Six Montiis in the Wall Street] «| dicate. 7; - Money Market. : ? (181 A Stroke of Luo or, The Boy. Who Mao Mone: Doar vou WANE KNY BACK I 4 A . _ of our Weeklies and cannot procure them from newsdealers,. théy can be obtained from this’ office dit - in the following Order Blank and send it to us with the price of the weeny you, want an ; return mail, POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. — . Ba A Leste men eaciee ig tu wie viies S04 NE cab ates AE aga es si PRANK TOUSEY, ‘Publisher, 24 Union Square, New York. OED Galli a8 AP giles Dzar Sm—Enclosed find. .....cents for which sig oud apis re aaa .. copies of WORK AND WIN, Rod ica Hi Oe ius g Glee man koe ft WED E AWAKE WEEKLY, Ne oa tee :. « WILD WEST WEEKLY, Nos......iiscecse dscns eens eae ‘ THE LIBERTY BOYS OF "6, INGE: co arcene > Bee PLUCK AND LUCK, ek oes
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PLUCK 32 PAGES Contains All Sorts of Stories LATEST ISSUES: 498 Slippery Steve: or, The Cunning Spy of the Revolution. (A tory of the American Revolution), By General Jas. A. Gordon. 499 Blown Out to Sea; or, Lost: Among a Strange Race. By Capt. Thos. H. Wilson. 500 The Boy Volunteers; or, The Boss Fire Company of the Town. By Ex-Vire-Chief Warden. 501 The Swamp Doctor; or, The Man Witch. By Allyn Draper. 502 Wa abies Roads; or, From Engineer to President. By Jas. C. ferritt. ; 508 The Boy Editor; or, The Struggles of a Brave Orphan. By Howard Austin. 504 Kit Carson, the King of the Scouts. By An Old Scout. 505 Lost Among the Slave Hunters; or An American Boy’s Adven- tures in Africa. By Richard R. Montgomery. 506 Rattling Rube; or, The Jolly Young Scout and Spy. (A Story of the American Revolution.) tv Gen'l Jas. A. Gordon. 507 The Doomed City; or, The Hidden Foe of Plummerdale. By | Howard Austin. 508 The Pride of the Volunteers; or, Burke Halliday, the Boy Fire- man. By Wx-Iire-Chief Warden. _ ; 509 The Hea Mutineers; or, Slavery or Death. By Capt. Thos. H. son. 510 ae Sr a or,,The Best Engineer on the Road. By Jas. *. Merritt. 511 Branded a Deserter; or, Boy Rivals in Loye and War. By Gen’l Jas. A. Gordon. , 512 A Scout at 16; or, A Boy’s Wild Life on the Frontier. By An Old Scout. } 513 Diamond Dave. the Waif; or, The Search for the Great Blue Stone. By Richard R. Montgomery. 514 Re eee Corsican; or, The Boy of the Barricades. By Allan rnold. 515 Headlight Tom, the Boy Wngineer. By Jas. C. Merritt. 516 ane ponies Despatch; or, The Blind Boy of Moscow, By Allan rnold. 517 The Swamp Rats; or, The Boys Who Fought for Washington. By Gen'l Jas. A. Gordon, 518 Nino, the Wonder of the Air. A Story of Circus Life. By Berton Bertrew. ' : 519 A Fireman at Sixteen; or, Through Fiame and Smoke, By Ex- Vire-Chief Warden. 520 100 Feet Above the Housetops: or, ‘The Mystery of the Old Church Steeple. By Allyn Draper. 521 The Boy Explorers; or, Abandoned .n the Land of Ice. By Capt, Thos. H, Wilson. 522 The Mystery of the Volcano. A True Story of Mexico. By Howard Austin. 523 Fighting with Washington; or, The Boy Regiment of the Revolu- tion. By Gen’l. Jas. A. Gordon. 524 The Smartest Boy in Philadelphia; or, Dick Rollins’ Fight for a Living. By Allyn Draper, 525 The White Boy Chief; or, The Terror of the North Platte. By An Old Scout. 526 The Boy Senator; or, How He Won His Toga. By Allan Arnold. 527 Napoleon’s Boy Guardsman; or, A Hero at Wighteen. By Rich- ard R. Montgomery. 528 pte Adrift; or, The Trip of the Daisy. By Capt. Thos. H. Vilson. 529 Rob the Waif. A Story of Life in New York. By Howard Austin. 530 The Wildest Boy in New York; or, Saved at the Brink. (A True Temperance Story.) By H. K. Shackleford. 531 Bushwhacker Ben; or. The Union Boys of Tennessee. By Col. Ralph [Fenton. ; 532 The Night Riders of Ravenswood, (A Strange Story of Arizona.) by Allan Arnold. 588 Phil, the Boy Fireman; or, Through Flames to Victory. By Wx- Vire-Chief Warden. For FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, IF YOU WANT ANY BACK NUMBE they, can be obtained from this office ce of the weeklies you want and POSTAGE STAMPS TAK EN THE SAME AS MONEY. of our Weeklies and cannot procure them from newsdealers, in the following Order Blank and send it to us with the pri return mail. AND Beautifully Colored Covers 534 535 536 537 5388 539 gale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 5 cents per copy, in money or Dale at eld te CTU le oe soem wi8 6 ae 3 The Young Deserters; or, The Myster; 2 Young Karl Kruger; or, ‘Phe Richest Boy in The Boy Slave; or, A Young New Yor By Howard Austin. J Dunning & Co.; the Boy Brokers. (A Sto or, The P A Retired Broker. Daniel Poone’s Best Shot: Pioneers. By An Old Scout. Ollie, the Office Boy; or, The Struggles Allyn Draper. t it The Two Boy Stowaways; or, A Stran Ship. By ek Thos. H. Wilson. Columbia; or, The Young Firemen of Chief Warden. *e i Paddling on the Amazon; or, Three Bo; Cano America. By Richard R. Montgomery. 1 4 Happy Jack, the Daring Spy. A Story of the Great Rebelli ly Gen'] Jas. A. Gordon. ae, r 2g Nameless Nat; or, A Millionaire in R: ey, Allyn Draper. ~ The Boy Mail-Carrier; or, Government in nnesota. 1] An Old Scout. : r The Boy Messenger of Russia; or, The Bearer. Ly Allan Arnold. Monte Cristo, Jr.; or, The Diamonds of tl Austin, The Boy Privateer Captain; or, Capt. Thos. H. Wilson. : The Boys in Blue; or, The Football By Allan Arnold. From Bootblack to Broker; or, 4 By a Retired Broker. The Block House Boys; or, The Lakes, By An Old Scout. The White Boy Slaves; or, The St Richard R. Montgomery. a A Coral Prison; or, The Two Boy Hermits By Capt. Thos. H. Wilson. " Dick “I will!”; or, The Plucky Fight of | Allyn Draper. ; Larry of the Lantern; or, The Smugglers of the Irish Berton Bertrew. ‘ . My Chum Charlie; or, The Strange Adyentures Boys. By Howard Austin, ) fle ue The Boyhood Days of “Pawnee Bii!!’; or, the Frontier. By An Old Seour. ¥ Capt. Thos. H. Wilson. The Bowery Prince; or, A Bootblack’s R ard Austin. Uh ; Jack Mosby, the Guerilla King; or, Rid Rebellion. By Gen'l. Jas. A, Gordon. ry A Lawyer at 17, and the I’ee that Made His Fortune. ard hk. Montgomery. Y ‘ The Houseboat Boys; or, Stirring Adventures in the Northwest. By Allyn Draper. J : } The Datk Sons of Ireland; or, Plotting Under the Water, By Allan Arnold. : rau j Berton Bertrew. The Phantom Fireman: or, The Mystery of Mark How! Ex Fire-Chief \Varden. Pie ip Ben Brevier: or. The Romance of a Young Printer. By Allyn Dra po: 24 Union Square, Ne reer at iar} © syle web sco oe. 0 0) 4 eae ee eer e eee oee see e ee er esr ces eres ee ee esse ee ee 88 8) o ef Gree, a ee 00 6 2a 8.8 (etetel aie acer mee see eee eee a a Ce er FRANK T Dear Sir—Enclosed find......cents for which please send me: ....copies of WORK AND WIN. Nos....... i .... © © WIDE AWAKE WEERLY. Nos.. _... & © BAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY. No8.......ecceseerreees sosevees .... © © WILD WEST WEEKLY, Nos.....-..-+:-- _... © ©THE LIBERTY BOYS OF 776, Nos......- (ho © PUCK, AND. GUCK.). Nos... ses egies es ,... “ SECRET SERVICH, Nos.......2-.0eseee% .... © & Ten-Cent Hand Books, Nos.........++++++ WAR io baled ea anata ds ene awregan s DEERE and Noe eisedesssee ae oe COM