Pluck And Luck (no. 83) (1900 01 03)
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Issued Weekly—By Suvscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York Post Office, by Frank Tousey. No. 83. ; NEW YORK, JANUARY 3, 1900. Price 5 Cents. ck DuncaN, Tue BugHT OF THE Bowl. ATEMPERANCE STORY BY JOHN B. Dowd) Quick as a flash Dick rained a half dozen blows on his face and the ‘officer sank down to the floor the worst whipped man on the force. The crowd yelled with delight.
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— ‘These Books Tell You Everything! Each book consists of sixty-four pages, printed.on good paper, in clear type and neatly bownd-in-an attractive, illust ‘ ted ‘cover. Most of the hooks are ‘also profusely illustrated, and all of the subjects treated upon are explained in such aysimple manner’ Look over the list as classified and ‘see if. you want. to’ iknow ‘anything: about. the subjects child can thoroughly understand them, mentioned. ; THESE BOOKS ARE FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS OR WILL BE SENT BY MAIL TO -ANY“ADDRESS FROM THIS OFFICE ON RECHIPT OF PRICE, TEN CENTS EACH, hat any 7 OR ANY THREE BOOKS FOR TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. POSTAGE STAMPS TAKEN THE SAME AS MONEY. Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 24 Union Square, N.Y. SPORTING. ¢ No. 21. HOW TO HUNT AND FISH.—The most complete huuting and tishing’) guide eyer_published., It contains full in- giructions about guns, hunting dogs, traps, trapping and fishing, together with deseriptions of game and fish. 5 No. 26. HOW TO ROW, SAIL AND BUILD; A BOAT.—Fully ifustrated. Every boy should Imow how: to-row and sail a boat. Feull instructions! are given in this littlé book, together with in- structions on swimming and riding, companion sports to boating. No. 47. HOW TO BREAK, RIDE, AND DRIVE A HORSE.— ‘A complete treatise on the horse. Describing the most useful horses for business, the best. horses for the road; also valuable recipes for diseases peculiar to the horse. No. 48. HOW TO. BUILD AND SAIL CANOES.—A handy book for boys, containing full directions for constructing canoes and the most popular manner of sailing them. Tully illustrated. By C. Stansfield Hicks. FORTUNE TELLING. No. 1. NAPOLEON’S ORACULUM AND DREAM BOOK- Gontaining thé great oracle of human destiny; also the true mean- ing of almost any kind of dreams, together with charms,,ceremonies, } and curious games of cards. A complete book. No. 23. HOW TO. EXPLAIN, DREAMS. from the little child to the aged man and woman, This»little book gives the explanation to all kinds of dreams, together with lucky aud unlucky days, and “Napoleon's Oraculum,” the book of fate. No. 28. HOW LO TELL FORTUNES. Everyone is desirous of ed thnowing what his future life will bring forth, whether happiness or} this little Buy one and be convinced. Tell your own fortune. abel) misery, wealth or poverty. You ean tell by a glance at book. : e fortune of your friends. : int Every young man and every young body you wish to write to. lady in the land should have this book. afr : a No. 74. HOW TO WRITE. LETTERS. CORRECTLY.—Coii- taining full instructions for writing letters on almost any subject ; also rules for punctuation and composition ; together with ‘Specimen ; letters.
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Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. November 7, 1898. PLUCK AND LUCK. — Complete Stories of Adventure. Entered as Second Glass Matter at the New York, N. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the yea* 1900, in the office of the praoten of Congress, Washington, D. C., by Fr es awe 24 Union Square, New York. ‘ ey See ea TPP eae eel. et eee Post Office, ' | By JNO. / PART IT. THE PROLOGUE. “. “Rap—rap—rap!” criminal’s cell. . “Rap—rap—rap!” The gaunt shadow of the gallows falls across the yard in front of the cell window. . “Rap—rap—rap!” neat And the gibbet from which fhe ddomed man is to swing into eternity slowly arises into shape, as if to mock the pallid face at the window. ~ “Rap—rap—rap!” The young man behind the grated window shuddered as ch blow of the hammer fell like the knell of fate on his His eyes were fastened on the horrible instrument of death. He could not turn away. _ An irresistible fascination held him iRece: : “Rap—rap—rap!” His counsel entered the cell. ‘His ‘presence broke the spell. _ “My poor friend,” he said, “what more can I do for you? 2 on Command me and your last wishes shall be——” cm _“Rap—rap—rap!” ; “The last nail is driven!” gasped the doomed young man, NEW YORK, January 38, 1900. DICK = DUNCAN; — OR, oa THE BLIGHT OF THE BOWL.) | \ The dull leaden sounds penetrate the grated window of a jcan had won her young heart, and she was on’ : Price 5 Cents. B. DOWD. hen = CHAPTER I. , Mag THE LOVERS—A VILLAINOUS PLOT., J \ It was sunset in the quiet little village of Swandown on the Hudson, and many of the good people were returning from their places of business to the cottage homes, where peace, plenty and comfort awaited them. The scene was one of sur- y passing beauty as earth and sky and water seemed to blend in perfect harmony to make one of Nature’s masterly pictures. very street in the village was shaded by tall, stately trees, and luxurious vegetation waved on every side. The Hudson — rolled grandly by on its way to the sea, bearing on its broa@ bosom the fortunes of many, and beyond the Catskills reared their lofty heads in lordly grandeur. ; * Along one of the’ shady streets of Swandown on this lovely © evening, almost hidden by the deep foliage of fruit trees bend- ing over the fence with their heavy loads of delicious fruit. ah might have been seen a young couple, arm in arm, slowly Sa wending their way toward a vine- clad cottage near the river. The young man was handsome and manly-looking, and known by everybody in Swandown as “Honest” Dick Duncan. He was just one-and-twenty, and the future never easton ve promising to him as then. And no wonder! For the bea’ ful maiden by his side had just said “Yes,” to a quest had propounded. Leonie Medill was the belle of the V and many other young men vainly tried to persuad speak that soft, sweet word to them. But “Honest” Dick + promise to be his wife whenever he was ready t They lingered at the cottage gate as thou “You will wait patiently, darling ” 5 hand in his, “until another year, he our ha complete?” ; ; fe ans “Yes, dear Dice alt
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mae” PER PC AR | DICK DUNCAN® “Yes, and sometimes twice a day,” said he, laughingly. “But “But won’t you be in the same danger, too?” Joseph: Harkins you must not undertake to live on love.” asked. fa -. “No, I will not,’ she replied, “but I almost believe I could,” “No; I will be playing a part all the time, and>be on my ~ ‘and those sweet, liquid brown eyes of hers attested the sin-| guard while he will not. You/’know my will péwer and tenac: cerity of her words. ‘ ity of purpose. There is no need of fear for me.” “Maybe you could, darling,” said Dick, laughing and kissing, “But suppose he won’t drink?” her: blushing cheek in the gathering twilight; “but you would| “1 won’t suppose it, for he is human like the rest of man- “grow thin. I want a live, plump and solid little angel for | kind, There are situations where the most uncompromising es And; pressing her hand again, he turned away and | temperance men fall in spite of their principles;” and the two: wal ed rapidly toward the upper part of the village. brothers,’ having reached their hotel, changed the conversa- : a "There hé goes,” whispered one of two well-dressed men on tion and entered the house, a =the other side of the street, a block above the cottage home of Leonie Medill; “the only obstacle between us and our fortune.” : ay “Yes, and he has been with pretty peed again. I tell you, CHAPTER II. i if i) Pat THE VILLAIN Av WORK, “y ‘ditahit knew whether or not fie: are engaged,” said the ce other, looking back at the little vine-clad cottage where Leonie The house in which Dick Duncan was a clerk sent him is Ne was still standing at the gate, gazing after her lover. down to the city on important business nearly every week el ot ain quite sure they will be if they are not now,” said the | Such was their confidence in his integrity and good judgmen at) » addressed as Jared, “for they are both good-looking and that they frequently intrusted: large sums of money, to his. nia ently very fond of each other. She will not refuse |¢harge, to be paid to wholesale houses in the city with whom im. if {he proposes. » : they traded. He was frequently sent down to purchase cer- © tain lines of goods, and he invariabl? gave perfect satisfaction — Mf in every transaction. In another year he would probably. pe admitted as a member of the firm ‘ , Jared Harkins frequently met Dick down in the city, ann hie they would often dine together! But while Jared would some- 4 ust be prevented at all hazards,” Aicout hissed the a aor that would ‘be the destr sea oe our hopes.” times indulge in the lxury of; a glass of wine, Dick was. noticed to be a total abstainer from intoxicants of every de fr scription. ; : : Being on good cousinly beens with young Duncan, Jared 3, we are the only heirs that would be left: But how are| Harkins found little difficulty in ascertaiming when he eae to get rid of him?” the other asked, as they walked arm in| again visit the city. long the street. “Why, how singular!” he exclaimed; “I am going down; the ‘That must *be devised in some way. Dick Duncan shall not same day.” ‘ i ei inherit’ all of Aunt Huldah’s fortune.” “Glad to hear it,” said Dick. “We can go down togetneet ” wed and Joseph Harkins were two bothers engaged in| “yes, and see some of the place before we return,” suggeste’ ess in Swandown. They were also cousins of Dick Dun-] Jared. an, and on yery friendly terms with him. But, unlike Dick,) “tT don’t think I will have any selene time for Ate “ was they had made quite a start in life by reason of close economy | the reply. ‘ "and penurious habits. Yet genial Dick was the more Beret, “Oh, I guess you can if we go early. and push’ things,’ yt da host | of friends. ue f Jared. “I've got a great deal to do myself, but r make atched him until he entered the house where he ome rule to do what I have to do quickly. ” | ; : and ‘they oe turned away ‘and went in saanee ie _ “Well, I'll try and*see if I can’t follow your rule,” Bear ii ‘ Dick, laughing good-naturedly. yon wouldn’t mind havin: ; half day’s holiday: down there,” Metis ha pestnee, Aunt Huldah cannot last two years Astiben: If Make e is out of the way and leaves no heirs, we will inherit her t eo an ‘several weeks’ ee ” what’s for?” ae ie Woah ad ; ; On the morning of the dey they were yi start ne the city or meth hill ‘to Aunt Huldah’ S ope ak BS the two cousins were at the train at an el hour, and. were his brot) er as though he nad a right to fur- ‘soon on their way to the pepe if d looked cautiously around’ in the} | i lght, as if earful of being overheard by some illage ie ein arm, All and) ‘then, a ‘be brot me the aids at ‘the deep. rolfing, uasd | whole day for. this business.” } A Las we could. wish.| “Good! Then we can take f the 1 get drun me other place, at night, ys sai are. ofl oing | ing with de titesthe . ‘
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peas Uy 8 sles DICK DUNCAN. you know. You see, I am not a customer of the house you | “Oh, you will, eh? Well, who will go for the beer?” sie trade with.” \ “We'll send the stage carpenter's boy,” said the tlie; quick- — 5 . “Oh, that doesn’t matter. I can get tickets for: any of my|!ly. “Come back to tHe zreen:roomy and we can have a Shes toe friends, besides.” : and glasses.” : “But [ don——” | This was something new to Jared Harkins, bia as tie haa “Oh, never mind what you think about it,” interrupted |over two hours of leisure time on his hands he quictly fol Jared. “Phey hand me tickets, and sometimes one of the|lowed the two gay young dancers back behind the scenes, salesmen goes with me. It’s all right for one gentleman to} where there was a table, chairs and, glasses. A party had eyi- ” “ask another to go to theatres with him, so you’ve got to go.”|dently been drinking there only a few minutes before, as as “Well, I s’pose it’s all right,” said Dick, after a pause; |foam of beer was still on the glasses. “though you ought to let them know I am nothing but a clerk, “Here, Billy,’ said the taller of the two pins, “run out and ie, instead of a merchant Who might be persuaded to become a] get another pitcher of beer,” and the boy came forward Mae We customer.” a large pitcher his hand. ; “Ha-ha-ha!” laughed Jared; “why, bless your honest soul, Jared gave him a half dollar, and he darted out like s shot. a he clerks are the very ones they seéek to make friends of their]. “Now take a seat and wait for the beer,” said Nellie, the as _ house. Every friend in the employ of a merchant is so much | taller girl, seating herself by the side of hersvictim. : in their favor.” “You were never behind the scenes before, sir, were you?” _/ “How so?” and Dick again looked grave. Alice, the shorter, asked, as he seated himself between them, Li why, a simple suggestion from a clerk frequently induces “This is the first time,’’ he replied. Ay ; & merchant to change his wholesale dealer and buy of other “YT thought so,” and the two girls langhed good- inatirediy « Nes houses. “We had a reporter in here just now, and made him set up a “Ah!” ands Dick seemed to be relieved of something that}the beer before we would answer a single question.” ~ Fie had made his face look serious. “Indeed! And do'you make Byeiy Peay. set up the beer bapegs + a - “You see,” continued Jared, “they go upon the theory that | comes in here?” ay a man must make his living off his friends. His enemies “Whenever a gentleman-comes in eae the ae we levy ‘won't trade with him, you know.” the contribution,” was the laughing. reply. ‘Here comes. the Yes, that’s true. ae most friends in the trade the most beer, foaming like the sea in a storm—here, fill’ my glass first, - : %, customers, of course.’ Billy!” and the’ wayward beauty held her glass toward the ; They ‘were soon at the Grand ‘Generar Aopaet and took a| foaming pitcher, with an eager look in her sparkling black. | -gtage downtown. Both went to the houses where they had | eyes. business, agreeing to meet aft a restaurant at noon, \to dine eG } and then go to the theatre. hic Pee 1 “I guess I can manage him,” said Jared Harkins to him- , : . he strolled off uptown again, after parting with Dick CHAPTER UI. = sie have no business to transact here to-day, except | _ j : { * . i t , i — with you, Cousin Dick Duncan, and you may rest assured I CrsiNG Ove REBT ATL OIE ue ; vill ‘try to transact that with credit and profit to myself. go and see about those tickets, and. then be at the restau- rant in time for lunch. I think he likes fun as much as any- know, and I am going to seo that he gets it.” . 4 f then turned to Harkins and filled his, reacts was on the oe ‘ ; before him. : cae the office jof the theatre Jared Harkins purchased two] « ee ys ; 3 | Oat’ Here's a smil or you, sir,’ é for. reserved seats on ‘the most eligible part of the None a Tere, 1 Nellie, ee her lass ‘ j a to her lips.’ | Mab eee = : ; “And here’s a glance,” added Alice, See oes glass so she ‘ rould you like to see where the Beata are, sir?” *the gen-| could just peep over at. him. 4 a manly ticket agent asked. “Thanks, ladies,” he responded. “My respects and bes es, I wouldn't mine taking a look at them, "was the | wishes,” and then all three drained their glasses to the dreg aS A af -“That’s good; fill ’em up again, Billy,” said Nellie, holding entleman the seats,” said the agent to one of | her empty. glass under the pitcher again. ee , i ; eV _ The boy filled all three glasses again, and then Alice er, promptly, leading the way “Won't you tell us your name, sir?” : ; _ “My name. is Harkins.” “And mine is Nellie, and this is Alice. quainted, aren’t we?” and the sparkling youl merry, silvery laugh that Tang: through the i nel Ss “Oh, yes,” said Jared, ae) I ope we oa ‘ane the of mesting again.” Dy ‘ gnificent temple of Thespis | ' i :" S i nd then he looked around
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_ Niblo’s to-night, they knew I would kno in?” 48 ' watch. stirring on the streets.” Ns came out. . ete 4 S , DICK DUNCAN. ' * “Meet us at the stage door when we come out. We will go then to the restaurant direct.” “Very well. I shall depend on you,” said Jared, ‘but re- member, you are to say nothing of my bargain about his drinking.” “Of course not. Just leave us alone for that.” They drank another,glass of the beer, and then he arose to leave. He looked hard at the boy with the pitcher, hoping that imperturbable youth would remember to return the change of the beer money. But Billy didn’t look up at him. He saw something in the bottom of the pitcher that was an in- teresting study to him. Placing the change mentally on the loss account, one turned away and walked out of the building, consulting his watch as he went. “Why, hanged if it isn’t time to meet him at lunch!” and without loss of time he hastened downtown to a Broadway restaurant, where he had agreed to meet Dick Duncan at dinner. “He was just in time, as Dick and a salesman in the house his employer traded with, came up at the same time. They were introduced, and then all three entered together, where they had a dinner together. When they were through, the salesman excused himself and hastened back to the store, leaving Dick and Jared together. “Well, did you get through?” Jared asked, as they strolled out on the street. “Yes. Did you?” “An hour ago.” “Then we have the afternoon on our hands,” said Dick. “T have two tickets to the matinee at Niblo’s,” replied Jared, “so time won’t hang heavy on our hands.” “Yes—that’s good. What time does the performance be- i “At 2 o’clock, I believe.” ; “Then we have an hour yet,” said Dick, looking at his “We may as well stroll uptown and see whatever is And the two cousins locked arms ‘and walked up Broadway, viewing the sights to be seen on _ that thoroughfare till the time to be at the theatre came. They then went to the theatre, where they took the seats Harkins had provided that morning. _ “I forgot to tell you,” said Harkins, as they seated them- ‘Selves, “that I have two lady friends playing in this piece un- ‘der assumed names.” “The deuce!” exclaimed Dick. “Do I know them?” “T don’t think you do,” was the reply. “They'are pretty as pictures, but wouldn’t have their names known for all the world. ai “How did you know they were here?” pi met them unexpectedly on Broadway this morning. We were all three surprised, and when I told them I was going to ; them, and so owned ‘up, begging me not to betray them. Of course I wouldn’t do - yeas a thing, but I was shocked, for Po belong. to-a ‘tip-top family. ie * “You. surprise me,” said Dick. “You will point them out to me, of course.” 4 After the performance Jared and Dick eae outside the stage door for the appearance of the two girls. “Oh, Mr. “Harkins!” said Alice, vEE steals so afraid ie would ie yeh : o danger of that, ne “said Jared. ‘Mr. Duncan—Miss Nellie, Dick.” to) , Mr, Duncan?” she ae eid her “This is my They soon | | were as lively as the liveliest of men, and that a glass or two TP a a self-possession as well as the vivacity of the pretty girl ee charmed him. J They went direct to the restaurant where Jared had ordered ‘ and paid for everything in advance. pee It was a delightful supper, and Nellie sat beside Dick to be 4 more readily able to exert the spell of her beauty upon him. i Two bottles of champagne were placed upon the table. ~ Jared opened them. i Nellie took one and filled a glass for Dick and one for her- self. Alice did the same for Jared and herself. “T never drink wine,” said Dick, gravely, and Nellie looked up at him as if she could not believe her eyes or ears. c “Ah, you really don’t mean that!” she said, a shade of dis- appointment overspreading her pretty face. Si “Yes—I never drink,” was the reply. are. “He means that he is not in the habit of drinking,” said gE: Jared, “and I can bear witness to the truth of what he says. _ But as he is a ladies’ man, he won’t refuse to drink a glass of q wine with one. Don’t be an old fogy, Dick.” i Nellie took up the glass and held it to his lips. “Tf you refuse to drink with me, Mr. Duncan,” she said, “I can never forgive you. I really couldn’t stand it.” ; Pees <- Ye who have never been exposed to such temptation must not find fault with Dick Duncan for drinking the wine, Pepe held to his lips, as drink it he did. “There now!” exclaimed Nellie, own heart. I knew you could not refuse a lady’s request: You feel better now you have tasted wine, don’t you?” Dick gave a sickly smile. i “It is not so dreadful, after all, is it? You have too much 7 me “you are a man after my sense ever to drink too much. Fill up again and we’ll have a toast.” The four glasses were filled, and Nellie held hers up in the __ gaslight and watched the sparkling beverage as it danced in the glass, saying: Nee “Here’s to the flowing bowl; may it ever be filled with the _ nectar of the gods for the benefit of us poor mortals!” CHAPTER IV. THE EFFECTS OF WINE AND WOMEN. E ; The reader will remember how the beautiful actress had per- — $e suaded Dick Duncan to drink a glass of wine with her; how d she held the glass to his lips with her own jeweled hand and— smiled bewitchingly upon him. Dick had never been a member of any temperance organiza- _ tion, and did not, therefore, break any pledge in drinking the wine. But he was known in Swandown as being strictly tem- perate in his habits. : The ice once broken it was smooth sailing neared and, urged by Jared Harkins and, the two pretty. actresses, ‘he drank glass after glass till the sparkling champagne flew to his brain. His spirits arose in proportion as the intoxicating: beverage coursed through his veins, and he laughed and ‘sang snatches of songs, aS! Bay. as the gayest of the party. %) “Ah, Mr. Duncan,” said the charming Nellie, “T knew you re of good wine was all that was required to bring you out. see, we actresses/come in contact with the public pe our p O- fessional Sanat, ea nest hase sl ris of people. Th never aes a lass of w ine or, give ay good ‘hearty ve a
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t DICK DUNCAN. ' repetition of it. where.” “You are right there, Miss Nellis,’ said Harkins. “But a glass or two of wine cheers one’s heart as nothing else does. Give us a little song, please.” “What shall it be?” “Anything—your own choice.” Nellie had a sweet voice which had been well cultivated. j She sang several snatches of songs to the intense delight of F Dick, who began to think she was the most beautiful of her sex. “Bravo!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands till the waiter openec wide his eyes and grinned. ‘You have the sweetest Of course a drunkard is not wanted any- Fs i yoice I ever heard!” y i} “Bless me! what a compliment!” cried Alice. Ls showing a very marked partiality, Mr. Duncan.” “Tf he is,’ said Nellie, laughing good-naturedly, “why shouldn’t he? You look to Mr. Harkins for appreciation, if you want it.” “Of course she will,” said Jared, promptly, “and she shall wi have it. Miss Alice, you are all that poetry and love can erown you with.” “Oh, my! What a jewel you are!” exclaimed Alice. ly, you must all drink to the realization of his words. and drink it down.” The glasses were filled again. oy The two actresses were strong drinkers, and their bibulous r feats on this particular night were cnly one of many, many similar ones in the past. “Now, Mr. Duncan,” said Nellie, smiling ravishingly on our hero, “you must beat the gallant speech of Mr. Harkins, or Alice will triumph over me, and jealousy, you ‘knOy, is one of the necessary evils of our profession.” 4 “Oh, his appreciation of his subject. isn’t stat to the oc- _ easion,”’ said Alice, triumphantly. > “Really,” said Dick, “my appreciation of the beauty and talent of Miss Nellie is so great that language fails me ete I attenipt to express it, and-——” “That will do, Mr. Duncan,” said Nellie. “I will choose you as my champion. Alice can keep Mr. Harkins if she likes, We will now drink to each other.” They emptied their glasses, and then Alice sang another _. song. , “Now you give us a song, Mr. Duncan,” said Nellie, laying a hand on hisarm. “I am sure you can sing well.” _, “Yes, he can sing splendidly," said Jared. “I’ve heard him many a time singing for the girls of Swandown.” “Then of course he will sing for us.” i, And he did. Nellie and Alice both pressed him ‘to sing with : Such eagerness that he could not resist. Indeed, he was fast - losing his will power under the seductive influence of the wine and women. He arose to his feet, unsteady and almost reel- ing, and sang with great spirit “Comin’ Through the Rye,” which the two girls heartily applauded... ee cant (hic) sing as (hic) well as I ought to,” he managed : to ay, and then sat down.~ e ; y, you are the best singer I ever heard off the stage, Mr. Srencey. e ‘exclaimed Nellie. “Really, you ought to go upon the operatic stage. Your voice only needs training to electrify _ the public.” _ fosies “You are “Real- Fill up \ “from a beautiful woman were too much for him. “You see New York is the place for oh Dick,” said ser] alarmed even er two girls. “Swandown ‘be ‘Dick blushed and pokaa auite sheepish: Such complimengs ; “Why, you are,” returned the stranger. “If you don’t know ~ ; how to behave yourself in a public restaurant, you ought to © be put out, that’s all.” “Put me—hic—out!” roared Dick. —hic—out!” “Oh, go take a tumble!” said the man. “T won’t—hic—take er tumble!” he replied, getting up and making his way across the room. “I’ll—hic—make you—hic— tum’le!”’ Ase The man quickly arose to his feet and planted a blow be- tween his eyes that sent him reeling back to the table he had just quitted, almost stunned to insensibility. is Nellie and Alice both screamed at the top of their voices, and, gathering up their skirts, ran out of the restaurant, and x left Jared to look after him. “Now keep on your own side of the house,” said the man, quietly resuming his seat at the table where he ae been eating. The proprietor came up and told Jared Harkins that he must insist on his keeping his friend quiet. “Yes, of course,” said Harkins, who now thought the racket AT had gone far enough. “I will take him to a hotel as soon as he gets on his feet again.” Dick was soon on his feet again, for the blow had sobered ; him. "is Suddenly throwing Jared and the waiter aside, he darted forward toward the man who hit him, exclaiming: “You struck mc unawares, sir. Try it again, if you dare!” The man sprang up and aimed a terrific blow at his head. But Dick had practiced the art of self-defense until he was considered the “best man” in Swandown by the young men of. the village. Conscious of his prowess, he parried the blow, and planted one on the stranger’s nose, felling him like a log. “That makes us even, I guess,” he gata: turning to Jared. “See here, gentlemen!” cried the proprietor, greatly alarmed, “I cannot allow any disturbance in my place. The police will take everybody in the house to the station if you | don’t leave at once.” f \ “Oh, that'll never do in the world. Come away, Dick,” and t Jared took him by the arm and tried to lead him out of the restaurant. “No,” said Dick, pulling from his cousin, “he hasn’t—hic— got enough.” “Yes, he has—come on—the police are coming.” # “Letsh see you—put me —y bee ay b / CHAPTER V. mat ON, HIS MUSCLE. > Jared took him by the arm and attenipted to run out of the restaurant with him. But his blood was up and he was as obstinate as a mule. ED iN “Hands off!” he said, sternly, as ine pushed Jared and the landlord aside. “But the police will take you in,” said Jared, tye to oft ‘peason with him. “Come on, and let’s go home.” Dick could not see why he should be taken in for retuinine a blow, and stood there glaring at the cme MGT > masse Me “Let me get at him!” cried the man who had been 50 v | expectedly punished, getting up and rushing forward like enraged tiger. ~.J _ Jared and the proprietor both seized him to SNe lis foe a hag oe Pal ne
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4 DICK. DUNCAN. Just then a policeman stepped in, and asked: “What's all this racket about?” “We are trying to kéep these two men from fighting,” said .the proprietor, ‘still retaining, his grip on the stranger. The stranger was in a furious rage over his defeat, and struggled);and swore like a pirate. “Let me get at him!” he cried. “TH jump down the cow- ard’s throat! I’ll show him-how to——” “Here, come along with me!” said the officer, seizing him by the collar, and ordering Jared and the landlord to let go of him. But no sooner had they released him than he dealt the of- ficer a blow that eame near flooring him. He staggered back several paces, but in another moment he raised his club and Went at him again. F The man, however, dodged the zlu> and knocked the officer 1 ’ down, seized his club and would have brained him with it had ’ not Dick darted forward and dealt hima blow on the ear that stretched him insensible on the floor. “Thank you, sir,” said the officer on rising to his feet: did me a good turn that time.” rf “All right. Do you want any more help?” sat “No,” replied’ the policeman. “I can manage him now, I think,” and, taking the club, he deliberately dealt the prostrate man a stunning blow on’the head with it. “Great God!” exclaimed Dick, in dumbfounded amazement. “That was a cowardly blow!” } ‘The officer glared’ up at him and raised the club to give another. “Stop!” cried Dick. “If you strike another blow Ill knock you into a cocked hat!” “Shame—shame!” cried several men, whom the noise had attracted to the spot. The blood was flowing freely;from the wound on the man’s head, and the indignation of the crowd was very great. But the policeman had been knocked down and was determined to have satisfaction. ~ ; “Tl take you in, too, sir,” he said, turning to Dick. i “No, you won’t. I’ve done nothing but protect you from, be- ing beaten; but if you strike that man again when he is » down, I will put a head on you as sure as my name is Dick oa; Duncan.” “Bully for Dick Duncan!” cried a voice in the crowd, which was growing larger and larger every minute. The officer seized hold of him and shook his club in his face. “This is a free country,” said Dick, “and you'll have a free fight right here if you don’t take your hand off me,” and as he spoké he looked the policeman straight in the face and showed that he meant just what helsaid. “Give it to him, Dick!” cried a yoice in the crowd. “Take your hand ofl me!” Dick sternly ordered. \ , Come with me,” and the obstinate officer jerked him for- ward with great force. Quick as a flash Dick rained a half dozen blows on his face, and the officer sank down to the floor the worst whipped man on the force, The crowd yelled with delight, as a New York crowd al- : ways does whenever an over-zealous policeman gets AE OESY ai by one of his intended victims. But in another moment the. crowd began, to give way. ‘Another policeman had put in an appearance and nepped for “You 7 ee _ “Now come away!¥ whispered Hating! “who began to fear ' “The police are eeniine to the 3 ‘Dick went, out, and the erowd parted. to let a pass. ; What's th y trouble here?” the other policeman asked, push- ; ing his. way t hrough the,crowd. Before anyone could answer the question. he saw his brother officer lying unconscious on joc leal ue qt piedegt ear by with a bleeding head. di ne propri ‘ot. 1 lta had it sent to Upright & Co., his employers, at Swandowr. sea of remorse and repentance. | Jared looked at itp and bat into: a roar of “The officer did that work,” said pointing to the man’s bleeding head, for the: officer.” “Who-is the man—where is he?” “Gone—went out as you came in,” was the reply. - ie The officer then turned his attention to his wounded cov- : rade, and soon had him on his feet again. But his. feet we: unsteady and his face was pounded to a jelly. Dick was @ hard hitter.and he had put in some good work on his face. The wounded man was carried to the station-house, where his head was bound up, and then he was locked up in a cell till morning. In the meantime Jared succeeded in getting Dick to a hotel, where: they took a room together, and went to bed. Harly the next morning Jared arose and woke up Dick, who, | springing up, said: f “We must hurry up and take the first train, Jared; or we may be late.” he, Jared looked at him in an amused sort of way, and said: Pe “I think you had better not get up to Swandown to-day, Dick.” “The deuce you say!” exclaimed Dick. “What’s up now?” “Just look in the glass there,” said Jared, ia Dick stepped before the mirror, “Whew!” he said, as he-glanced at the picture of his! dis- He colored eye in the glass. “That’s awful! What must I'do?, (| That eye would disgrace me in Swandown.’ “You had better send a dispatch to Upright & Co., telling them that you are unexpectedly detained in the Binns and will be up in a day or two.” “Why, this eye won’t get cleared in a week!” } “T think there are surgeons here who can arrange it in a day or two.” “Then we/must see one,” said Dick, “for they will be uneasy at home, as they know that I have no business down in New York except that which I came down to attend to.” “You can write that Upright & Co.’s business has: been at- tended to, but that a little business of your own detains you. ¥I “Well, I wish I had gone home on the first train after at- tending to my business,” said Duncan, gravely, “then I would have been spared all this trouble and mortification.” ois “Oh, that isn’t anything!” And Jared affected to treat it as a light matter. : \ : “That is no satisfaction to me,” answered Dick. “Here I have been getting drunk and fighting in a restaurant vat! mid- night in the.city of New York. What became of the girls?” “Oh, they left as soon as they saw trouble brewing, but they didn’t blame you in the least. Nellie said you were the bray- — est man ‘she ever saw. She said we must come and see her when wé come down again.” ; <li niet’ want to see her again. She made me drink so much wine.’ “Why, you didn’t drink so much,” Sale Harkins. didn’t get drunk, either,” j the restaurant keeper, “and another man did it Je Sas Ba a a a om ta « “Nor you. r <3 CHAPTER VI. THE ARTIST ON BYES. ' Dick wrote a isbaiih and Paes went to a i ‘office He then returned to the hotel and found pet dnt the: deepest J ei aa “Do you want me to find a surgeon ak: you, Dick?” Jared ae asked, as he entered the room. i “Yes, and find me a strong tempbralied pledge, too to sign one right away.” Ne ong
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t DICK DUNCAN. | ass of yourself. Even kings and queens have carried black - eyes; why should you let it trouble you so much?” "i “& king could afford it,” was the bilter reply. “A poor man - ean’t.” » “There are plenty oh excuses by which you can claim the credit for that eye, Dick, and be all the more popular for’ it. Oy “Yes, but I won’t lie about it, Aras the emphatic reply. | “You needn't lie about it at all,” said Harkins. “A man in- oe sulted you and you knocked him down and in the row ae got the black eye.” » ~ “That may be true, but it will get out where we were, ia and that I was drunk. That’s what hurts more than any- . thing else.” iM “Oh, well, youll soon get over that. You might go on a “packet every night for ten years and ‘not meet with such an accident as tis. 3 “Accident! There’s no accident about it,” said Dick, bit- “T will do it with flesh-colored paint, and for the sum of five dollars.” “Very well. ee I want you to tell him he esas drink mate: wine for a few Sore and then the color will be all ‘Tight again,” “But is he a drinking man?’ \ “ “No—never drank a drop in his life till last tate, He » > swears he’ll never drink another drop again, and that will spoil all our fun in the city. I’ll put in another fiver if you'll put it to him that way.” “All right—I am always willing to accommodate my cus- tomers. Bring on your friend as soon as you please,” ee Jared went back to Dick and said: : it “Old fellow, I have good news for you. I have found an i artist who makes a business of painting black eyes their aa natural color, and he says he can place you in statu quo, as ‘the é: if a lawyers say, in a few minutes. I have arranged with him to | — , terly. “T only wish it was. No. If I had not drunk that wine Eray, wp all right so you gi go to Swandown to- hight. orev is I would not have been in this fix. I’ll never drink another That's just what I want,” said Dick, quickly regaining his re ‘ f cheerfulness. “I never thought of that. I Rae read of that Ww Me drop.” _ “Oh, bogsh! Why not laugh over the fun we had instead of / wearing such a dismal face as that?” i “Took here, Jared, did you have any larks like this before?” . “Never—this is as new to me as it is to you. But I’m blest if I’m going to go into mourning over it. Just wait till I go it and see if I can find out a surgeon who can fix up that black eye,” and Jared turned and left the room. en Dick was in a terrible frame of mind, and he vowed aS is would never drink another drop of ‘wine again. REY “What will Leoine think of me?” he asked himself a dozen am times. “How can I ever look her in the face again? Oh, what a fool I have been!” é yee Jared went about, eS the _greatest ae. over the success / artist in the bedaio at Let’s go then at once.’ Nie “Come on,” and Jared led the way downstairs. Dick fok © as lowed with his handkerchief to his eye as though the Rent Pa 2) pained it. oan They soon reached ries artist, who was waiting to receive fi them. He examined the blackened optic, and then proceeded » ; to mix his paints, go as to produce the same eplor as” Nes 5 ‘natural skin. . ‘a “Now, take this seat here, sir,” he said, placing a, chair near a window, “and we will soon haye you all right.” to Dick took the chair, and the artist went to work. — si ake “Now, look in the glass,” he said, a half hour later. vipa Dick looked in the mirror, and was delighted. i ae He was himself again. \ i: j “This is the triumph of skill!” he exclaimed. “How long will it.remain?” bie “Qh, you can let it stay a week or davo, or you can wash it’ off in two or three days,” was the reply; “but you must. keep your blood a little heated to give it strength and ie laeuie ches a glass - of wine now and then.” (hic SAL OR “Is that so?” Dick asked. oon “Yes, that’s necessary.” Dick looked in the glass again, and.was so i vp i with the change for the better that he said: “Well, I guess I will have to take it, then.” i “Of course. What else would a sensible man do?” said | Jared. “Come on, let's have &@ glass now, ° MOC, artist, take ja nip with us.’ et) “Certainly,” said Jones. “I never rbtage! to take my own sh prescriptions,” and the three went down together to the bar- room across the street. ; tee well ae ‘he would not touch another Hea of eae as ong as the consequences of ee first glass ‘were still visible ? t a < i 2 the clerk aside, he asked: “Where can I get a surgeon to take the color out of a bunged i a 5 ’ ‘oh, you eats want any surgeon,’ * said the clerk, smiling. “Yo want an artist.” { n artist!” exclaimed Jared, in amazement. - «what does : st know about eyes?” that’s’ Bey, they all faitiea nowadays. ‘. , I'll be hanged if that isn’t something new! I never ne rd of Bneh’ a Paine: before. Where can I find such an clerk went fe his desk and took out a ard and nantade: im. J area. ‘looke dat ita and saw ane it was ‘simply: } ath ns 4 ‘| Jared Harkins had ribed ‘to “preserit woe ]sistant to the ae he had: ut under his ey: pe
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DICK DUNCAN. “T am not sure of that,” said the artist. “I have drunk a , thousand bottles of it in the last ten years and the black eyes of have not come to me yet.” ““That is certainly an exceptional case,” “Here’s hoping my case may be a similar one.” ay “Ha—ha—ha!” laughed Jared, as he drank his glass of the vs sparkling beverage. ‘In order to have a similar case, my dear ‘boy, you must do as he did.” replied Dick. et “How?” y “Why, drink the thousand glasses of wine, and——” # “Bottles—bottles, my dear sir,” interrupted the artist, quickly. “Yes, bottles—that’s so.” — “Well, I certainly won’t undertake to do that,” remarked Dick, as he set down the glass, “though it is, as you say, good wine. I have always understood, and have seen it with my own eyes, that the man who drinks wine to excess never fails pe to get into trouble at some time or other, which he would have avoided had he been sober.” “You are right, my friend,” said the artist, blandly; “but I didn’t mean common drunkards, I meant gentlemen—men who drink a glass or two as we do, and don’t make beasts of our- selves.” “But the man who drinks wine moderately may es to Si ‘drink immoderately,” persisted Dick. “Of course,” assented the artist, “or learn to do other foolish things. The man who is so weak as to do so, though, ought to be taken in charge by his friends afid locked up.” _* “T agree with you there, Jones,” said Jared Harkins, re- filling the glasses before them, “and I have no doubt Duncan : does, too. We can’t possibly, go so far as to make beasts of ‘ourselyes. We are supposed to be reasonable, rational hu- man beings, who know both right and wrong when we see it. - Drunkards we can never be. Here’s to commmon sense in all _ things—may it prevail in every walk of life.” “Bravo! That’s the best thing I have heard in an age. I'll drink to that!” and the artist raised his Blass to his lips and Be it at one effort. : Bapiidersd and confused by such plausible logic, Dick re- ; i aalthed silent and drank his glass of wine with the others, his F scruples growing weaker with each glass, as the effects of the _ stimulant were felt. At last he called for another bottle him- self, the first time he h&d ventured to spend a cent of his _ earnings outside of regular nécessities. Jared Harkins was overjoyed at the progress of his scheme. “Isn’t it delightful!” he exclaimed. “T feel as light as a feather, and don’t care whether school keeps or not.” “That's just how I feel,” said Dick, as he refilled his glass. “They don’t keep such stuff as this in school, do they?” _ “No,” said Jones, “and that’s why so many teachers and Sunday-school superintendents go for it on the sly. Here’s to n who invented it—may his vintage never fail him.” -good!” cried Harkins, lifting hign his glass. r be so full as to be unable to respond to that sentiment. she goes.” ) Kk emptied his iia with great gusto, and remarked: Vhoeyer invented Me ge cipaeg did a good thing. It is a for kings and queens.” “ es, or American sovereigns,” es eer Jones. y, we have no sovereigns in this couhtry,” said Dick. , we have. Every man in America is a sovereign— the people biog rule the country. % Here’s to the American ‘as ot * — “May H away with hin: ‘when he comes out that he'll never touch another drop of “No—no—no speechmaking,” said Harkins. “It’s too dry work. The best speech a man can make is to ask another— what'll you have?” : ; “Ha—ha—ha!” roared Dick, in a burst of wild, uproarious. — good humor. “That’s it! What’ll you have, gentlemen?” “Another bottle of the same stuff,” said Jones. “Bring it along, barkeeper,” eried Jared, and in another minute the third bottle was before them and the cork drawn. The result was Dick was soon literally drunk, but striving to preserve his dignity and appear perfectly sober. Jared and Jones were both more or less under the influence of it, but, as they were old stagers, they felt it less. “T say, Jared,” said Dick, “letsh go (hic) home.” “Won’t go home till morning,” said Jared, refilling Dick’s glass. “All right—don’t get (hic) drunk, though, old fellow,’ he responded. “Oh, we won’t get drunk,’ said Jones. “Artists never get drunk.” And solemnly refilling his glass the man of paint. gulped it down with the gusto of an alderman. Just then a couple of small Italian music boys, with fiddle and harp, entered the saloon and commenced to play. “Hurrah!” cried Dick, the moment the music struck up, and springing to his feet, “let’s have a dance!” “Good!” cried Jones, who was himself about half drunk. “Give us some lively music now,’ and the two commenced leaping and bounding about, overturning chairs and tables. That could not be permitted in a Broadway saloon, so the obliging proprietor instantly ordered them to stop, and sent | the two Italian boys away. “You must stop this noise, gentlemen,” said the proprietor, in a very positive tone. “I can’t have such noise in my place.” “Whoop!” yelled Dick, lifting a table and hurling it half way across the room, ‘ “Here!” hissed the proprietor, who was a burly, broad-* chested Samson, seizing him by the shoulders and turning him toward the door. “Out with you!” and making a run he sent / him ‘spinning out of the saloon and clear across the pavement, where he brought up against a lamp- post | with such force as to cause him to drop to the ground all ina ‘heap. He was‘only half conscious when a policeman picked him up. “What’s the matter with you?” the officer asked. “Nossing,” was the reply. “No, I s’pose not. Come along with me and r i Rates care of you,” was the officer’s reply. ® He was too drunk to know just what he was doing, and so went along without a murmur, and was locked up for being drunk on the street. } Jared and Jones both saw the officer take him fae but they were just sensible enough not to interfere and be taken up themselves, so they let him go. \ CHAPTER VIII. REMORSE AND REPENTANCE, Dick Duncan by the police sobered Jared He did not calculate on such a sudden ime sa programme. ‘ tat The arrest of Harkins at once. tosrmpiion, of his “He'll be. in such a repentant frame of mind wine. I'll go and’ see t 1e judge and try and get him 1 out fore the Bes comes off ad ‘ va fas ie, ens rt To ap ee! ee eee ee ® ri
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“What's this man been doing?” the justice asked, of the officer. ° “T found him lying drunk on the sidewalk in front of Berg- ~ hold’s saloon, out of which he had been fired,’ was the testi- mony of the officer. _™ “What have you to say for yourself, young man?” the aces asked of Dick. Dick was so mortified that he would rather have faced death a thousand times than stand where he was at the moment. “It must be so, judge,” he said, “tor I had been drinking with two friends, and don’t remember anything about it. I don’t know that I was ever drunk befcre, but I do know that I will never get drunk again, no matfer what may result from this thing.” “T believe you, young man,” said the judge, “for you don’t look like a man who is very much addicted to strong drink. I will let you off this time. You are discharged.’’» Both Jared and Jones were present to;meet and congratu- jate him. Jones grasped his hand and exclaimed: “You're a lucky dog, Duncan; you got off easy. you would be fined at least ten dollars.” . “Why, what did I do?” Dick asked, looking puzzled over the whole affair. } : ‘why, you undertook to turn the place upside down and got fired out—that’s all,” was the reply. “As I deserved to be,” was the bitter comment of Be young man, as they reached the street. “No;,you didn’t deserve such treatment, Dick,” said Jared. “Yes, I did, and I hope I may get served even worse if I ever drink ‘another glass of wine,” replied Dick. “I got blind drunk and was arrested and locked up—that’s the whole thing in a nutshell.” \ “No, the fault was the officer’s,” persisted Jared. “Then why didn’t you tell the judge so?” he asked in some surprise. “Because you didn’t call for any witnesses,” was the reply, “but stood up there and confessed like a blubbering school- ’ boy.” “Better confess and fo. 0 no more than to lie out OL iter J , "owas drunk, and that was the cream of the charge.” “Oh, well,” said the artist, taking him by the arm and walk- ing off with him in the direction of his studio, “it doesn’t mat- ter. Better luck next time. Come over to my place and’ let ‘me touch up your face again. You ran against that lamp- * . ‘post and got another bruise that left an ugly discolored spot.” “Yes, and it hurts me very much, too,” said Dick, feeling the bruise with his hand. “Tt won’t hurt much, I guess. It looks worse than it hurts. _ Here we are—come up,” and leading the way the artist entered , his studio followed by Dick and Jared. Seeing a large mirror against the wall Dick stepped in front ~ of it and surveyed himself. His hair was uncombed and his face unwashed; an ugly spot marked a bruise on the left side of his forehead. He was so overcome at the sight that he sank down in a seat and buried his face in his hands. ° ; “Oh, I wouldn’t let it trouble me that way, Dick,” said Jared, ‘consolingly. “Don’t say, a word, Jared,” said Dick. “I could etek myself : How could I ever be such a fool? What will Mr. Up: sht say? I am now worse bruised than I was yesterday. I ought to have gone home yesterday and remained in my room s ugly black eye ck paces its color, instead of “Setianed 7 I was afraid rom the inmost Hepttt of his soul. DICK DUNCAN. sia went into. pe next room, | where Jones was | 9 | never ‘tasted of wine, and now here I have been arrested and locked up for being drunk. It is well that my parents are in their graves, for their hearts would be wrung with grief and their heads bowed in shame over my conduct. How can I excuse myself to my employers, who have always been my best friends, and who would have trusted me with all their worth, solely because they knew I never drank anything? Oh, I could die and sink forever out of sight and memory of my friends!” ie at “Just get in this chair here,” said the artist, re-entering the room with his paint ready for use, “and I will soon have you as handsome as ever.” ° Dick Seated himself in the chair, and s eration of the artist, who was really a ski business. a “There, now,” said Jared, as soon as the artist had finished touching up the bruise, “you look as well as you ever did, save the little swelling over your left eye.” cs Dick went up to the mirror and gazed at his reflection. “Oh, nobody will notice that,’ he said; “I can go back to Swandown now and go to work again.” “Yes; but you want to go to a barber and get your betr ' combed before going home or any de else,” said Jones, as he surveyed his handiwork. Missal Dick felt in his pockets and found that he didn’t have a cent — of money. i “Why, what has become of my money?” he said, in some surprise. 7 “It must be at the police station,” said Jones, “as they take everything away from a prisoner before they lock him up.” “Then they may keep it. I'll never go there after it} ” and Dick turned away with.an air of determination that surprised Jared Harkins. ' “Well,” said Jared, “I’ve got encugh to see us through. Come, let’s go out and have some breakfast; I know you are hungry.” “Yes; I haven’t had a bite of anythingesince yesterday.” “The deuce!” exclaimed Jared; “didn’t they feed you at the station-house?” “Yes; but I couldn’t eat; I had no appetite.” “T don’t blame you. You’ve got a head on you, guess.” : “Yes; if it is.as large as it feels, I wold be a curiosity,” said Dick, as he followed Jones and Harkins downstairs to the street once more, this time to go to a restaurant. Jared ordered a dinner for all three, and Jones ordered a punch for the same number. a Tae AN ss The meal and drinks came about the same time. : “What’s this?” Dick asked, as he held up the glass. mitted to the op- lful hand at his too, I “Punch for your head,” said Jones. J “My head has been punched enough,” said Dick, setting it — { down. “I don’t want it.” \ —_—_ CHAPTER IX. THE MURDER IN THE “TEMPLE OF MIRTH.” Ae. “Why, my dear fellow,” said Jones, as he looked at his glass, “it is just the thing you need. It will take that retin out | of your head, and give you an appetite.” - “T think I have appetite for all that I can eat,” sald Dic S, “But it will ease your head—take it,” urged the artist. _ “Tf I can stand the swelling, it shouldn’ 't trouble you.’ “But it does aide me. I want a see ay work pre I by “Never tea about your work,” Interrupted Dick, rtify to your ski ne ; 00
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DICK DUNCAN. “Yes; as that wine did yesterday.” '- No, you can’t get drunk on punch.” “7 have heard differently.” ant drunk.” 4 “Are you sure of ite” - “Yes—-ask the landlord there.” The landlord, in obedience to a wink from Harkins, said he had never seen a man drunk on punch. AU right, then,” said Dick. “If I get drunk again, Pll hurt the man that caused it,’ and with that he drank the glass of puneh, and smacked his lips as though’ he HeMened it. “How do am like it?” Jones asked. “Very good,” ‘the reply, as he then proceeded to eat. } The ‘punch Bris his appetite very much, and did something : toward glearing his head and raising his spirits. - During the meal Jared called for more punch for the party and Dick, feeling so much better for the glass he had already s _ taken, drank the second one without question. It flew to his head and made him feel quite lively and reck- less. The feeling of remorse and repentance passed away, and he no, longer felt solicitous about returning to Swandown. “Now, let’s have a ride out to Central Park,” suggested Jared. eens “would like to go, ” said Jones, “but the fact is, I can’t leaye my place Io) long in the daytime. I would be happy to go around with you to-night.” ar “Very well. Come around to our hotel to-night,” said Jared. “We will take the a train up for welthiges ike in. the told cay . “That's, ‘the programme, ” said Dick, well pleased. They i len took a carriage—the two cousins—and were driven out to Cc mtral Park, where they spent nearly the entire afternoon, On the wee back they stopped in front of a ae Saloon, By of semi-intoxication , during the en tne. afternoon. When night ie p rom. Ne amusement and excitement. | pps i he elephants.” eh eae ' that’s the racket, then. Here goes,” and Jared led i vay ward Niblo’s theatre, where he and Dick had gone hts before. A Ba pe t end ote “do you know them?” . Do you! know them?” ives q x Kade Dick, his eyes ater “Oh, there are different. kinds of punch. This will not make | want any girls along to be in our way.” ee take in the theatres first,” said Jones, fag then we'll “ spent quite a pleasant hour with them| is | cour ge I do. T anaiated an ree Nellie two mhonths ‘the table and litte it abov his i When tte performance was over, Jared wanted to have the | actresses go with them, but Jones objected. i “We want to see the elephant to-night,” he said, “and don’t “I agree with you—let’s.go it alone,” said Dick, and that set- tled the question. The girls werté not taken. .“Now, where shall we go?” said Jared, who, to tell the truth). did not know half as much about New York as he pretended. He had to depend on the artist to pilot the way about the city. “We'll take in Sixth avenue, and then seek other pastures , new,” he said. ; “Very well,’ said Jared, sheep we'll follow.” * “Let’s have another punch before we go,” suggested Jones. “Yes—that would be the proper thing to do, I suppose,” as sented Jared, and they entered the nearest saloon to Ee the drinks. Of course Dick drank another* punch with them, so that by the time they star ted out he was ripe for any. mischief, In Sixth avenue they struck many places of very question-— able character, where all sorts of people of both sexes were | drinking, singing and making merry at a very Jate hour. All this was both new and novel to Dick Duncan. He had seen nothing like it before, and was, therefore, greatly inter: ested in everything around. At last they entered the “Temple of Mirth,” a well- known - <i place,of resort on the avenue, which was in full blast at that ht very late hour. Nsiviats There were nearly a hundred people there eee singing and making merry in all’sorts of ways. i ‘The first thing to do on entering the “Temple of Math” igi i to drink something. Paes The query of: H ant ¢ “What’ll you have?” from Jones, brought the angwerlof:. ae whisky punch, ” from Dick Duncan, and tase followed suit. “lead ine way, and like faithful . pee - came, Jones, the artist, found him ripe for hip a that drinks. had, the man. asked for the table asa favor 0: eet: and co es and the, ne were timid and
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DICK DUNCAN. : +— : A minute or two more and he was dead. at coin drinking wine, and at you both seemed to take “This is murder!” cried a friend of the bully. special delight in getting me to drink.” | At the word “murder,” Dick Duncan turned deathly pale and “But we drank as much as you did,” said the artist, “why _ dashed for the door. don’t you behave yourself like a decent man should? Harkins and I have had no trouble.” ts ‘a — “You are different from me, I suppose. But now the mis- — ; chief is done. My reputation is gone forever. If I had a ; CHAPTER X, weapon my body would be lying in the morgue to-morrow — morning.” 5 7 HIDING IN DISGUISE. “Oh, that is not the way tb face trouble. You-———” : pee ’ “You don’t know what I have lost, Mr. Jones,” said Dick, As Dick Duncan dashed out of’ the “Temple of Mirth,” Jared | interrupting Him. “I- must either perish on the scaffold or a‘ Harkins and Jones, the artist, quickly followed him. The} else pine away my life in a prison cell, or be a murderer on the ‘crowd in the saloon were too excited to think of pursuing. | face of the earth the rest of my days. Even if acquitted of the. Z They were crowding around the dead bully to get a glimpse ‘of | charge of murder my reputation would be forever ruined. I- % _ the wound, in which the knife was siill sticking. have been drinking and visiting disreputable places, while re-- - Out on the sidewalk Dick paused for a moment, as though | maining away from my post of duty, No, sir, give me a dazed by the sudden terrible ending of the trouble. weapon and I will quickly end my disgraced career forever.” dines: rae Ss Jared came to his side. “That would be the act of a coward,” said the artist. “Now, ra “We must get away from here, Dick, as soon as possible.|I am sure you are innocent. Time will prove it. Come to my 7 That fellow is dead!” — office and all will be right. Ill paint your face as darkasa ' “Yes—come on,” said Jones, “or you'll. be arrested for | Spaniard’s, and then no’one will recognize you as the man who murder.” ’ was supposed to have stabbed the man, You can then go tee ; re “But I didn’t do any mutder,” said Dick, speaking for the | about the city and wait for the verdict of the coroner's jury.” Pics a first time. “Yes, that’s the best thing.to do,” said Jared, “and then you et ‘ et ; “Yes, you did,” said Jared, “but 1 don’t blame you—come | can go to another hotel and wait for something to turn up. hi ‘ a A on, » and, starting off up the street, the other two followed him. So they went back to Jones’ place, w here he soon put a ye. \ : ~ On the first corner they took a street car, and went uptown | on Dick’s face that would ‘not yield to soap and water. © ee so toward Central Park. Dick was as white as a ghost, but re- “Now you can march in right among them,” said The artist, 4 “mained silent. Not a word escaped his lips. . “and have no fear of the detectives. No one would ever know 3 be When they reached the park they were not genie to enter | you for the man who was in that place to-night.” - rt ‘at that late hour. “But I have no money to pay my way at.a hotel,” said’ he. Fash _“Let’s walk down the street, then,” said Jared. “What shall I do?” yas They locked arms and walked off together. “T can let you have fifty dollars, Dick,” said Jared, a yo “This is awful, ” said Harkins, when they had walked some ie will do if you will promise me on your honor not to kill 'your- y: “distance. “why the deuce can’t you control your temper, Dick | self.” ‘a ; - Duncan?” ie ye “JT will give that promise to hold hs until the Pe é _ “Because I was drunk—your aS got into my head,” was! of it releases me,” was the reply. tie bitter reply. “You are more to hlame than I am, Jared} “That will do—here’s the money,” and Jared counted out : ‘Harkins. Hesiger, ae was more than human “nature could | five ten-dollar bills and gave them rv him. 3 Falk ; ‘ -“T will go to French’s Hotel, and stop there till we see wha grows out of this thing;” and with that he turned erate and left. the studio of the artist. Out on the street, he wended his way dewntown to Precis ee Madntt do tat i ‘was his Se sith reply. eae know I} Hotel, where he registered under the name of Duhean nie yy but one ‘knife, and here it is now,” and with| went up to the room assigned him. Cape e produced a small penknife which he had carried an his} In the solitude of his room he sank noo, on the bed, S| t pocket for more than Sunes “years. burying His face in his hands, moaned: - ishee ‘Yes, “that’s your. knife,” said Jared, as though greatly “Oh, Leonié—Leonie! haye lost — you Gotane! I «i “But. who could have done it, if you didn’t?” never look you in the fage again. You. ashe me So ‘st or at's. what troubles me. I ‘can’ t understand 2k ei and I was so weak as not to be. able to say ‘no, > when tempted ink one of. his. friends intended it for you, and struck!to drink. How can I ever face: ‘your gentle, loving mistake in the rough d tumble,” said Jones, after a again? Oh, if I could only die and be forgotten! Swan 2 of several minutes. , ; Reet ee hey ia. gtd! be ashamed of one so weak and debased. I can never go —that must be it, ” said Di Signy can PANO are sat tier again. All the world will know of ‘my fall. and : ‘fightir ou and yo ae said pate “which me guilty of murder. To give myself up will onl hé rr conviction | for murder. We were fighting and the 3 - Ob, ifs I could only « i and end it all It i : cr as” possible.” ar t of that man’s ness ae =
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DICK DUNCAN... { 4 —s awa “They would not know me now,” he said. “I must keep very} damaging evidence with an air of very great reluctance, as reticent and say but little, or my voice or something in my] though the ties of both friendship and blood were a strong as manner may reveal my identity, when all would be lost. pressure even against the truth. ; { When dressed, hé left and locked his room door, and went The result was a verdict that James Ardell came to his Ny _ downstairs to the office of the hotel. ; death at the hands of Richard Duncan. ; The verdict was published in the afternoon of that day, and ee i Dick Duncan saw his name in the public press as that of a , murderer for whom all the police and detectives in the city h CHAPTER XI. were eagerly watching. ue “That ruins the good: name of Dick Duncan,” he said, as he " : “THE VERDICT—MURDER. turned away, sick at heart. “All is 1ost, and I will never see * Leonie again. I am a wanderer on the face of the earth. How When Dick Duncan parted with his cousin, Jared Harkins, |! 2m to go to a place of safety with the money I have I don’t at the studio of the artist after, midnight, he failed to notice| know. Jared and that artist are the only parties who know the joy expressed in the countenance of his kinsman, Even|™e¢ in this disguise. Will they keep the secret? Is that the artist failed to notice it, and when Harkins left the studio, | @¢tist sate? Would he sell the secret to the friends of that =~ he left the impression on Jones’ mind that he was deeply | ™an, who was, it seems, a prominent ward politician? He had golicitous about his cousin’s abilfty to escape the consequences | ® host of friends, and no pains will be spared to get me into of the trouble. the élutches of the law. I am innocent of that fatal blow. [ 4 ys “T will call again to-morrow,” he said, as he went away, “as| ever had any knife in my hand. There is some mystery == : we will have to tell all we know about the affair.” about it which time may disclose, and do my name the justice | “Yes, of course, and it will give us an unpleasant notoriety | that is due it. But it is now very dangerous for me to re for a time,” said the artist. “But I suppose we can’t get away | Main longer here. I will go away and wait for time to vin- : . from it.” dicate me, I can’t understand how Jared could have talked as rR: “No, we can’t get away from it. To absent ourselves would|¢ did at the inquest.” injure us and do Dick no good.” Almost desperate enough to blow out his brains, Dick went — “You must not go down to his hotel, as that would give him | back to the hotel, and in the privacy of his room pondered away: He could call here, as if he were a customer of mine, | °V¢T What was best to do. . and we could then talk with.him about the thing.’ “But for the hope that I may some day be ached of this “He ought to leave the country,” said Jared. “It doesn’t horrible crime, I would end my life here and now. But some- thing tells me,” he muttered to himeelf, “that 1 shall yet be oh cleared of this cruel charge. I will write to Mr. Upright and Son tell him frankly how it all came about. He will believe me, I know. Poor Leonie will believe me, but it will break her heart to read what is in the evening papers to-day. My God, what a blight has fallen upon me! It is the blight of the bowl, which has blasted the hopes, happiness and reputations of millions. Oh, why did I drink the wine—why did I drink Tepe : } Burying his face in his hands, he wept as he never wept be- fore, and the flow of tears relieved the overcharged heart. stand to reason that he can remain here in the city where so many detectives will be on the lookout for him.” “You may be right—but let him wait till the coroner’s jury has rendered a verdict.” “Well, I’ll be around to-morrow,” and they shook hands aud ty \ ) parted. “Aha, Mr. Dick Duncan!” chuckled Harkins as he S his way back to his hotel. “So I am in a fair way to get you , ‘out of the way at last. If you do not swing for the murder he ee that man it will be no fault of mine, though the world will res consider me the most faithful of friends to you in your trouble. But, you must go. You are in my way. If you do adiabatic hon ae oe ser Nites se of the f Send 7? : “not hang you will be a convict for a long term of years. Aunt ne ue: C ake Meee asia Gen. ‘Huldah will never leave her fortune to a convict. In either event my purpose will be accomplished, and I shall be sat- - isfied. That knife was, no doubt, intended for you. By what _ mischance it struck the other man, the Lord only knows, Had “Where shall I go?” he asked himself a score of times: of have not money enough to leave the country. To remain here f is dangerous, and yet it may be the safest place after all. It er t gone where it was inten de dto, go 1 would have been re- would be expected that I would leave the country, and I would be hunted for throughout Canada. I will remain here of all r trouble. But I wil hrough, you Atevea Caner wens in de ec ak pt Staak 5 in another disguise, and see if i can’t pe out who did that pe! | stabbing!” . Going to another hotel, he took a room and paid for it for — * a month in advance, and resolved to go among those four men who were with Ardell when he was killed, as he was sure one of them killed him by mistake> ; —— eaeiibas shieibes _ How long he had slept he knew not. He was awakened by oud knocking on his door. ringing out of bed he hastenéd to open the door. cor i here were two police officers there. ; Ger - crits Aw 5 aie “You are wanted, sir,” said one of them. i ane ents Gr eae Sas ae “What for?” he asked. f CHAPTER np Say oi ie “As a witness of that murder at the ‘Temple of Mirth,’ in Fer 7 r t enue last. night,” replied the officer. aie THE TURNING OF a DARD AU y oe |. How did you find me out?” “Some ody in the crowd knew Jones. We found him this ‘When he was sure that he had seam y evaded Jared — ning, and he gave us: your name. and address. You will Harkins and the artist, Dick proceeded to procure a quantity aie e to give | bail to appear, or g0 to the house of ‘detention, if of the fluid which had dyed his face’ such a deep Olive color. Cc 0 orders | With this he proceeded to wash himself. from head to foot, ido S ery Be to BO with you ina few minutes, fe wie to guard against any accidental discovery by otters that | ng to his clothes, he quickly dressed himself, only his face and neck were of that. color. ei 'y the re oe a q n the artist, where ee re-|
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Ber ty | DICK DUNCAN, \ Ao ee _ Jared wouldn’t know me. I will never recognize a friend of _ my better days, till my innocence of this crime is established. - Then, and not teli then, will I be Dick Duncan again.” That night, in his little room up near the roof of the hotel, he sat down and wrote to Leonie, his heart’s idol: “My Daritine:—I know your heart is breaking, but I know ~ you willbelieve me when I tell you that I am innocent of that man’s blood. They all say I killed him. f did not. I never struck him except with my hand. There were four men fight- ing me at the same time. Time will prove my innocence. ie to surrender now and unjustly suffer for the crime of another is more than I can do. My fault is in my yielding _-to the persuasion of another to go to places where I should not have gone, and to drink wine. ‘The blight of the bowl has fallen upon me, and I am no longer worthy of your love. For- get me if you can. I cannot forget you, though, and shall ever - mourn my weakness in losing you and all I held dear on earth. Do not try to write to me, for that might lead to my arrest. _ I shall go where safety is assured, and wait for time to prove my innocence. Yours, even in death, Dick DuNcAN.” ' Sealing this, he wrote another to his employers, Upright & Co., in Swandown, in which he said: ‘h. 3 aving attended to the business which you entrusted to my hands, I was about to return home, when I was persuaded to remain and go to the theatre. After the theatre, I was per- suaded to drink wine, which I had never done before, as you + know. Thegesult was, I became mixed up in the fight that re- Sulted in the death of Mr. Ardell. I am innocent of his death, but cannot prove it. Time will vindicate me. By yielding to _ temptation, I have lost everything that was dear to me in life. I may never see you again. You will do me justice, I know. PY What money you owe me—seven hundred dollars, I believe— pay to her whose name you will find on a separate slip of paper in this letter. Good-by, my best of friends. . “Dick DUNCAN.” ” : 4 “That is the last link that leads across the gulf between me : and the past,” he muttered, as he sealed the two letters. Then he went out\and mailed them in a box on the street corner below the hotel. Turning away, he re-entered the hotel, and went to bed. The next morning he ges toa dentist on the Bowery and “No man will suspect eA in the dark, Spanish- looking man. When my mouth gets well. V’ll hunt for employment in the city, and keep up a hunt or the man who stabbed Mr. Ardell.” T'wo days later he read in the papers that euerhody in Swandown believed him innocent, thongh Jared Harkins, his ousin, had stated that it was a mistake that Duncan was a ; ctly temperate man. ‘ a said young Duncan was in the habit of drinking to ex- he ON while in public he was a teetotaler. — x Bs | ace. rae : 2 ile ie Be v5) e Pat + it to go in search of Ardell’s friends. He had their names, which he had taken from a report of the ccroner’s trial. When night came he went up on Sixth avenue, to the “Tem- ple of Mirth.” ‘There he met two of the men. They were sit- ting at a table, drinking beer and talking about Ardell’s murder. With a polite bow, he asked: : “Pardon me, gentlemen, but will you join me in a bottle of wine?” “Certainly,” they both replied; “take a seat with us.” He sat down at the table, and ordered a bottle of champagne, “Here’s to a better acquaintance, gentlemen,” he said, as he ‘ raised his glass to his lips. “Yes—yes; my name is Hank Howard,” said one of them. “And mine is Joe Jenckes,” said the other. “Happy to knew you, gentlemen,” bowed Dick. is Duncan Dix, of Charleston, South Carolina. meet again.” They drained their glasses, and then commenced talking of first one thing and then another. They finally got to speaking of the Ardell murder, when both men declared themselves friends of the dead politician. “Is it true that Ardell actually took up that table and walked off with it?” “Yes; it was a playful freak of his,” laughed Howard. Duncan smiled. “What would a Southerner have done re the otreune stances?’ Jenckes asked. “Down South he would have drawn a revolver, and quietly ordered him to put that table back in its place,” was the reply. “But in New York here he might have left the est in dis- gust.” “Suppose he would refuse to put it back—then what?” “Well, it would have been Ardell’s funeral, that’s all,” was the quiet reply of the supposed Southerner. ‘ “Well, we do things differently here,” said Jenckes. “T see you do; but somehow or other the result is the same.” Howard smiled and said: “I guess you are pretty near right.” They drank two more glasses, and then Howard proposed to — show the Southerner through the immense building. The billiard-room was first visited, where they found every table occupied. Thence they went into the main gambling room, where faro and every other game of cards were carried on. “Here is where fortunes are made every night,” Howard. “And more often lost,” added Duncan. : ‘“Yes, sometimes; but I managed to scoop in some ten thousand dollars the other night.” Dick saw at a glance that the man was in. league with the bank, and resolve to be on his guard. He had only about fifteen dollars of the fifty J ared had lent him. “Suppose we try our luck?” said Howard, producing a Hye. dollar bill and putting it on the king. Dick thought for a moment, and then said. “My name I hope we may said “I didn’t come out to play to-night, but I'll risk five aotiars,” Be and then he placed that amount on eke ace. To his surprise it won. He played again and won. The third and fourth time it won. The next deal he placed the whole on the ace and won again, By some strange freak of fortune he again | put up Be whole on the ace and won. The dealer snapped his eyes at Howard, and Howard glared ; at the pretended Southerner as. though surprised at the result. ve ‘By a desperate effort, Dick appeared cool and unconcerned. “You may) be that Foci a he said, cme his bet on the — LG te ake Seeded own eee fac ie Hy -3 ae oe ee SP tae i
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(DICK DUNCAN. j The king won, and a muttered oath escaped Howard and the dealer. , He had won over five insane dollars! Yet he was cool as an iceberg. “TH let it stand for another deal,”” he said. Byvery man held his breath. The card turned, and he was ten thousand dollars richer! t CHAPTER XIII. 42 A CHANGE OF FORTUNE. ~ The sudden fortune that had come upon Dick Duncan at a - moment when he was in the very depths of despair, almost vi stunned him. For a time his head grew dizzy, and he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. oN “Are you ill?” the dealer asked. “Cake a glass of wine, and he quickly ordered a glass of champagne for him. se “Yes,” said Howard, rising from his seat, “I will get it for htt you. ” ” saw a significa t oo in his eyes, which immediately put him |. on his guard. ts “No,” he said, ets please.” , “Wor how much?” the ‘dealer asked. é “or the whole pile,” was the reply. { [ “I can’t do it,” said the dealer, with savage emphasis. “I'll ‘play you for one thousand.” © . “Ten thousand or nothing,” said Dick, looking him in the “se eyes, his own face as white as the dye on it would allow. “Then the play is off.” “Very: well—give me the money, if you please.” nt The: banker paid over the money, and Dick thrust it iets his " pocket—a big roll of bright new bills. — He then arose to his feet, the cynosnre of all eyes in the - room. They regarded him as one of the famous southern _ gamblers who frequently broke faro banks, and shot those who ‘questioned his honor. x They little dreamed’ that it was the ava time in his life at he had ever played the game, and that his success, in- stead ‘of being the result of a igrisliney skill, Wee a pure ‘and simple streak of good fortune. Mi wey But dreading ‘the result of further playing with. one. so veatly. favored by fortune, the dealer refused to go on with: he play, and paid. him the money. » mae u have had good. luck to-night,” said Howard, as he ste stood close. by his: side. “You ought to thank me- for sug: | esting: the game to you.” ith all my heart, ‘veplida Dick. ‘Come! to my hotel and “I won’t drink any wine. Deal again, pees took Howard’ 's breath away. / whispered, for ‘he didn’t wish anybody to < ‘Of course I will wil i duck aries Let's have a bottle of wine?” | - Re “No, ti won't oe 'Y 4 ‘more wine tonight. Lets solevar Dick eek to glance over at the dealer, and thougnt he’ They ascended in the elevator to the top floor, on which Dub Ps can had engaged a room by the month. Howard was surprised at not seeing any baggage in ihe h room, but said nething about it. ‘he man, he thought, must . ~ have been hard up before winning that big sum of money. | “There is a thousand dollars, Mr, Howard,’ said Duncan, f handing him twenty fifty-dollar bills. “I certainly should not have thought of playing any to-night had you not suggested it, I hope you may some day haye as good luck as I have.” “Thanks—you're a square man, Dix,” said Howard, as he pocketed the money. “I hope we may haye such another haul together. I never saw such a run of good luck in my life.” “Yes, fortune was in my favor to-night,” replied Dick. “We'll go down now and have a soda cocktail before the Har closes,” and leading the way downstairs to the barroom, Dick — called for a soda cocktail and Howard took a whisky straight. . “Here’s to more of the same sort, ” said Howard, as he drank” Ly his whisky. i “Yes—always,” replied Dick, drinking his cocktail, Then shaking hands with Howard, he went back up to his 3 room with nine thousand dollars in his pocket, while the other | went on his way rejoicing in the good fortune that had so un- expectedly come to him. 4 ¥ ni'gve g one erage, dollars of the money, if you will | Closing the door of his room, Dick sank aptie on his bed and glar ed at the wall. ‘Did ever anybody fall to such luck in this world?” he mut: tered, scarcely- realizing that he wa3 not dreaming. “What does it mean? Has Providence thrown this money into my hands to escape the country with, or to enable me to find ow who did that stabbing, and thus clear myself of the char ieee of murder? Or did I do wrong in gambling for it? Goa - = knows I want to do right, and I know 1 ought not to take this, money; but if it will establish my innocence I know it will be justifiable. Only think that I never played. a card before ine my life, and yet won such a sum of money the first time! IT can now turn all my attention to ferreting out the real mur- j derer of Ardell. /I will keep in with Howard and Jenckes. = They were mixed up in the fight. Howard is my friend now, and I will get into his confidence by pretending. to Be as bad as he is himself. Nine thousand dollars! How that ‘sum would set me up in business! I could then marry Leonie and— oh, Leonie, my darling! I know your heart is breaking. | God forgive me, but I did not kill him!” a ate He went to bed, but not to sleep tiil the morning sun began 1 to BSR into ys Sap “room. He was thinking—thinking of others who rank wine only dccasionally. At last he dropped asleep and dreamed of Leonie i pretty vine-clad cottage at Swandown. cit was: a sweet ‘of love, and he was happy. Se aac a, When he awoke it was nearly noon, rr a hunted fugitive, Oh, "Goss Shee » Dressing meee ae co ae his
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ore” oe > | J a CHAPTER XIV. AMONG HIS ENEMIES. When the shades of night again enveloped the great city, Dick Duncan wended his way towara the “Temple of Mirth,” on Sixth avenue. At that hour the great thoroughfare was alive with crowds of both sexes, all in eager pursuit of pleas- ure, and not very particular as to the quality or shape in | which they found it. On every hand the sound of music, good, bad and indifferent, “greeted him. The clinking of wine and beer glasses was an unceasing. strain, and the boisterous laughter. of men and women was heard even across the avenue. The most prominent of all the places of wild revelry by night in that part of the city was the “Temple of Mirth,” whither Dick now wended his way: When he entered the place, he heard his name called. He started and looked around. “Phe detectives are close on Dick Duncan’s track,” said a man in front of the bar, talking to a party of three or four others. \ “Glad to hear it,” said another. “Hope they'll succeed. If he isn’t caught within a week, there'll be a big reward put up for him.” “That’s what the detectives are waiting for,” said the firsi speaker. “They can put their hands upon him at any time, and are only waiting for the big reward Ardell’s friends are talking about: putting up.” “Oh, they are sharp fellows—those detectives,” said a thira s1san. “They are always on the make. But I heard to-day », that Duncan was still in the city—has never left it, infact, and that he walks the streets every day in disguise.” “What kind of disguise?” one asked. “T don’t know, but——” “Hither an old man or an old woman, you may just bet ” in- terrupted another. “He wouldn’t try to remain a young man, you know. He’s not such a fool,as that.” “Well if they catch him, he’ll swing as sure as fate. I un- derstand that one of his most intimate friends positively iden- tifies the knife found sticking in poor Ardell’s heart as Dun- _ ean’s knife.” d “Yes, I heard as much myself,” added another. ‘Jenckes says he saw him stab him,” remarked a fourth. “Oh, they’ve got eviderce enough. All they want is the murderer.” Dick heard all this and more. ‘His knees almost gave way under him at the thought of the ‘peril that surrounded him. Here were friends of the mur- dered man who would swear his’ life awav, and rejoice in ti ' devilish work. His heart sank within him. He staggered to the bar and gasped: “Give me some wine.” - The bartender promptly put a bottle and glass before him. _ He filled the glass to the brim, and emptied it. The generous fluid coursed through his veins like liquid’ eee: and made : a feel stronger for the time. “FHelloo!” exclaimed one of the party, “there’s the South- iG he who whipped the tiger so badly last night!” The entire party turned and! gazed at him. _ The wine he had just taken made him feel more confident. “Gentlemen,” he said, smiling’ blandly, “will you join me in a glass of wine?” “Qf course we: will, ” said one r9f the party, as they all Ss Sle around him, Arcane Dix! ex claimed Howard, who came up at the mo- We t e DICK DUNCAN. 15 “Will a bird fly? Ask me some more hard questions and pass the bottle around.” !One of the party hinted to Howard that it would make things more pleasant if he would introduce the party to the. lucky Southerner. “Of course,” said Howard, and forthwith he introduced the whole party to our hero. They then turned to the bar, anu for several minutes busied themselves in filling and emptying their glasses of the rich wine set before them. Then they turned their attention to inspecting the various amusements of the place, the entire party keeping well to- gether with Dick. “Here is the place where Ardell was killed last week,” said one of the party, when they reached the spot where the trag-. edy occurred. “Ah, indeed!” said Dick. “I remember reading something about it in the papers. Have they caught the fellow yet?” “No, not yet,” replied one of the party. “Left the country, I guess,” observed Dick. “No, they say he is hiding in the city in disguise.” “Then they ought to be able to take him,” he said. “Yes, they. can get him easily enough. They are just wait- ing for the reward.” “Ts that the way they do here in New York?” “Yes,. it’s one of the ways,” and the party laughed good- naturedly, while another called for drinks again. Of course Dick could not avoid drinking again. What he had already taken was beginning to tell upon him. “You made a big pull on the bank last night,” remarked one of the party half-confidentially, as he leaned against the counter. at “Yes; I intended to burst it, but they weakened and wouldn’t double,” was the nonchalant reply. The man looked admiringly at him. “How did you manage it?” he asked. “Simply betting on the winning cards,” said Dick. easily done when you know how.” “T s’pose so,” said the man; “but the ‘knowing how’ is just what I am after. Are you going to play again to-night?” “No; I think not. I don’t care anything for the sport, and never play except whengl want money.” This ‘declaration greatly surprised the man. “T never heard a man talk that way before,” he said. “Never did? Well, I suppose I am a little queer at times,” and Dick smiled as he turned away from the bar. “Hold on, Dix!” cried Hank Howard, “we are going to have another drink, and you must join us. What’ll you haye?” “T’ll take wine,” was the reply. It was the fourth drink, and in less than ten minutes after he took it, Dick was almost too drunk to know what he was. doing. But he was keenly alive to the peril of his§ situation. It was at this moment that Billy Dwyer, the celebrated minstrel, entered and approached the bar. He was drunk, yet fully able to recognize every acquaintance in the crowd. They grasped his hand and welcomed him warmly, for everybody liked the genial minstrel, and delighted to hear him sing. He could sing as no other man could sing, and, that was his. strength with the public. “Glad to see you, Billy!” exclaimed Howard, shaking’ his hand warmly. hold any more.” “T can’t, eh! Drink you—hic—drunk in—hie— mae hour, by —hic—er watch,” was the valiant minstrel’s reply. ( “Ha-ha-ha!” roared the party. “There’s'a ( ChABee, for you, Framers 1 J “J know you can hold as iuen. as the Hottoions) pit, eee said Howard. “I weaken. What’ll you have.” “Very which he was introduced to Duncan. Dick, had often. heard of . genial, re Dwyer, vee ask you to have a drink, only you can’t Dwyer called for his favorite drink | and drank it, after | the tea cs 4 ‘ x #
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\ DICK DUNCAN. as bi singer and minstrel of the stage, and was therefore quite pleased at making his acquaintance. “Heard about you,” said Billy “Big run—hic—on ’er bank dasht night,” as he shook Duncan’s hand. “Why, it seems that everybody has heard of that!” _, “Yes—made ’em sick,” was Billy’s rejoinder, as they strolled toward a table and a couple of chairs, at which they seated themselves for a chat. CHAPTER XV. : PURSUED BY THE POLICE. They had not long been seated at the table when a waiter who did not know either of them, advanced and said: “Give your orders, gentlemen.” ; “Clear out,” said Dwyer, waving his hand to the vaiter.’ “You can’t loaf around here, you bummer!” exclaimed the burly waiter, seizing Billy by the collar and lifting him clear out of the chair. “Get out of here!” Dwyer was a mere infant in his hands, and in another minute he would have been fired out on the street. _ But Dick went to his rescue, and dealt the waiter a blow on the left ear that sent him reeling away over another table ' and chairs. “Take that, you insolent scoundrel!” he cried, Sotewis the blow with a kick. j 7 ‘In an instant the greatest uproar was the result. Women ' screamed and men swore. Chairs and tables were overturned as waiters rushed forward toward the bar where the pro- prietor stood. The officer on duty promptly rushed forward to arrest Duncan. 3 * “Back!” cried Dick, sternly. “Right is right. I defended myself and friend. Arrest the man who struck the first blow,” and then he pointed to the waiter whom he had knocked down. “Yes—there’s the rascal!” cried Dwyer, pointing to the same man. “You are my prisoner, sir!” by ‘the collar. i Be Whack! went Duncan’s fist on the ‘officer’s" nose, and down he went as though a thunderbolt had struck him. . “Waiters!” cried the proprietor to his beer-jerkers; that man out, or I’ll discharge every one of you.” said the officer, seizing Duncan “put fe They made a rush for him. He knocked two of them down, and then drew his revolver. “Send for a hearse,” cried Dwyer, as soon as he saw the re- volver, “and I’ll sing the chant for the funeral!” _ The waiters recoiled with horror from before that deadly weapon. f . . \ The officer arose to his feet, glared at the revolver a mo- ment or two, and then glided out of ii house. He had no stomach for bullets. “Whoop!” yelled Dwyer, “whose funeral is this going to be, t anyhow? Step up, Mr. Corpse, and select your coffin” ~ Despite the gravity of the situation, the crowd laughed. “Now, look “here, gentlemen,” said Duncan, “that waiter ‘came up to us and demanded our order. \We had just taken four drinks at the bar, so Mr. Dwyer told him to clear out. He} rap on the door, and a hoarse voice demandéd: seized him, called him a bummer, and was going to put him , will be aor. ie around Duncan and Dwyer to congratulate them on their suc-> cess in dealing with the insulting waiter. | the officer whose nose had been so put out of joint by Duncan, — returned with two other officers, and elbowed their through the crowd. got.” to let you alone.” through me for every cent of it.” fifty. said. him a black eye?” hen I.knocked him down. That’s all there is of it. 1 be oe for that, ae the none who attempts to] While they were thus conversing and drinking more wine, way “There he is—that dark man there,” he said, pointing to- ward Duncan. / . “ “You are my prisoner, sir,” on Dick’s shoulder. said the sergeant, laying a hand “What for?” Dick demanded. } “For striking him whilst in the discharge of his duty.” “But he was not discharging his duty,” said Dick. “You must prove that in court to-morrow morning.” Dick turned, and when no one was suspecting it, dealt the oe oe ee officer a blow that felled him to the floor. Then, in the confusion that ensued he and Dwyer escaped from the hall to the street, leaving the officers and the men around the table where they were found engagéd in a free fight. The excitement had completely sobered both Duncan and Dwyer. “T am sorry you have got into this trouble on my account,” said the genial minstrel. “No matter,” was the reply, “that fellow deserved all he “But the police will make New York too hot to hold you, un- less you buy ’em off.” j “Buy ’em off?” - “Yes—see the captain and sergeant and pay 7em something “Qh, you don’t mean it!” ' “Yes, I do. I’ve done it many a time. They’re all on the ~ ‘| make.” | “Well, let’s go to some hotel and go to bed. I like you, Dwyer, and will stand by you. How are you fixed?” oy “Had fifty dollars this morning. Some fellow has gone | “Here’s fifty more—come along—when zou et as rich as Vanderbilt you can pay it back.” y Billy was astonished. iba ec: “Take it,” said Duncan. “I am flush just now, you know.” “All right,’ said Dwyer, taking the money. “I owe you . I make one hundred a week when I play.” aaa “Come on, then. Let’s get away before the police get after us again. eae bod : Sp Dwyer led the way into a little notel on a side street, where ¢ he was well acquainted with the night clerk, whom he had q given many a ticket to the minstrel performances, and called ‘ for a room for himself and triend. “Tf the police inquire here for us, we ain't. in, hae he ie “What have you been up to?” the clerk naga, “Knocked down a cop,” said Billy. : “Good!” said the clerk, “served him right. Did you give “Yes.” { a ie aa The clerk grinned with acuene ‘and showed them the way to the room. I They were but a tor minutes in bed when there was a loud . “Open this door!” “The police!” gasped Dwyer, ‘springing out of bed. ) CHAPTER XVI. _ oe GUZZLING CROWD. ee : The knocking on the door dem - =
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‘, Bs 7m a a ats Bi, f ° : K ag eo 13 "te t you don’t.” A, ; DICK DUNCAN, “Will you open this door!” demanded the voice outside, in the sternest of tones. “Who are you?” demanded Dick, as he and Dwyer hastily dressed themselves. ' “Open this door and find out,” was the reply. \ “I say, Billy!” Dwyer recognized the voice of the clerk of the hotel. “Helloo, Jimmy!” he said. “Open the door. It’s all right. ‘They’ll break it down if “Well, it isn’t my hotel,” said Dwyer.” “They can break the whole hottse down if they want to. I won’t open the door till I am dressed to receive company. You know I. always was bashful, Jimmy.” : Jimmy and two or three others were heard to chuckle. BEyerybody knew Billy Dwyer, and liked him, though he would go about drunk for weeks’ at a time. “Hurry up!” whispered Billy, ‘and we’ll give ’em the slip.” “Just let me get off,’ said Duncan. “It’s me they want, not you. Don’t you get yourself into trouble on my account.” “Just wipe off your chin and watch me fool ’em,” said Dwyer, who had taken a liking to Duncan. “I never go back on a friend.” “But how can you get away?” - “As easy as you can.” Dick smiled. “J guess you are right.” a “Have you rete a good grip in your hands?” Billy asked. “ORY ' “Then you are all right. which runs just by the window there. We'll go down the lightning-rod I noticed it when I| opened the window for fresh air just before we went to bed.” “That's all right, then,” and Dick went to the window to examine the lightning-rod. “Well, you go first. I'll palaver with those fellows till you reach the ground.” Dick reached out against the brick wall and caught the rod firmly. He then swung himself out of the window and com- menced letting himself down hand over hand. Bre he.reached the ground he looked up and saw Dwyer de scending. Promptly dropping to terra firma, he waited for the gallant minstrel, and when he had him by his side he ‘asked in a whisper: “Where shall we go now?” “Come on, we are all right now,” and Dwyer led off toward the North river, followed by Duncan. * _ They walked leisurely along arm in arm till they reached the river. “Now, there’s a little tavern up the street here,” said. Dwyer, “where we'll be all right. It isn’t first-class like the Fifth Avenue, but it’s safe, and that’s what we want, you know.” . “Yes, that’s “what we eg Go ahead. I'll follow where you lead. aA “Good—I’m the middle man this time. Come on.” ‘They went up two blocks and stopped before a corner . os duer. store with “Hotel” in gilt letters over the door. There were quite a number of hard-looking characters in the place. when they entered, late as it was, who stared at the two well ressed. young men as though their appearance in such a c Sbe an unusual thing. “Yes es—w hat'll you have to a was the aac. “a ve Aa got anytntni, that won't kill at first shot?” Dun- | drinks were epee. The bummers and loafers: pricked up their ears at the idea of two me coming there and calling for champagne. “Guess they be swell chaps,’ whispered one to another. “Nah, they’re snide,” said the ‘other. “Never drank no champagne in ther lives.” ; “Make me a whisky punch,” said Dwyer. “The same for me,’ said Dick, nodding his head to the bartender. “For two or the crowd?” the landlord asked, looking around at the score of blear-eyed bummers. “V’ll take mine straight,” cried half a dozen, as tte entire party made a rush for the bar. “Gimme a rum sour!” “Brandy stiff!” “Whisky straight!” “The old thing, Cully!” “Gimme a gin sling!” and a dozen other kinds of drinks were vociferously called for by the thirsty bummers. Dick had never before seen such a gang, and was at bai inclined to resent the inclination. “Ts it for the crowd, gentlemen?” the landlord asked, whom a long experience at that kind of dodge had rendered cautious. He would have the positive order of the man who was to pay for the liquor before he would deal out a drop of the vile stuff, “Of course; can’t you whoop up a few more?” replied Billy, who was not néw to such scenes. few more.” The bummers laughed, but the landlord walked around from , behind the counter, went to the door and gave a loud, long whistle. “My business is to sell liquor,” he said, as he jaank back be- hind the counter, “and the more drinkers around the better ~ business is.’ By the time he was done speaking some thirty tramps, who had been sleeping in a neighboring lumber yard, came tts dressed in every state of dilapidation. Even ‘Dwyer himself was astonished, and the amazement of Duncan was indescribable. Such a hard-looking lot he had never seen before in all his life. They crowded in, scratching like so many monkeys, and Dick and Billy gave way befpre them. E 3 i i “T say, landlord,” said Billy, “give us a show, won’t you?” “Yes—come ground here behind the bar, and face your good friends.” “Good—thanks. How comes it that all your relations are so poor, landlord?” ‘This retort of Billy’s set the landlord aback for a moment, which the bummers saw, and a laugh at his expense was the — result. “Don’t go back on us, as ae cried one, amid a roar of laughter. “Make mine stiff, uncle,” said auaitier. i “Be kind to us, daddy,” yelled a third, and thus the Dees went on till the landlord yelled out: “Hyer, yer suckers! nothin’.” That was enough. A silence like that of the grave fell upon the thirsty crowd. Duncan and Dwyer gazed upon them from their position behind the bar, and read whole ae, of | crime in their bloated faces. At last the bartender finished preparing crowd began the scramble to get them. ‘They were han out with dexterous rapidity, and in a s very: short time oer ; ‘cit NEW DANGER—“DOWN. Shae You have a large circle of relatives, I see. Stop this noise or yer don’t att = dad ‘ints’ ani we “Blow a horn and call in a :
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DICK DUNCAN. ae 4 asked. ‘He had counted the number present, and was See nied to re- a ‘sist further imposition. __ “#Ha-ha-ha!”” chuckled the liquor-seller, “look at them guz- _ zlers. Vl bet a thousand. dollars they can drink a thousand - drinks in one hour.” _ “Whoop!” yelled one of the tramps from tne lumber yard, “take ‘im up, boss! We can’t do no sich thing!” ’ “Yes—bet him! Scoop in his money. We can’t do it.” ' *T am not much on the bet,” said Dwyer. “Haven't got a thousand dollars. If I had I'd take the bet, if for no other “reason than to rid you of your poor rélations. Here’s all the ‘money I have,” handing him a ten-dollar bill; foe your seven dollars out of that, and show us up to our room.’ "The landlord took the bill and slipped it into his pocket. “Seven dollars for drinks,” he said, “and three dollars for a bed for two—that’s right—ten dollars. Becky!” -A stout, réd-faced woman of all work ADDER es “Show these gentlemen up to number seven.’ ‘The woman took up a lighted candle and marched out of the room. Billy and Dick followed her, and up two flights of _ Tickety old stairs were shown into a dilapidated-looking room, ; “with one bed and two windows. * The woman placed the candle on oe mantel es retired without a word. jab ‘Dwyer went to the door and shut it. The lock was both boltless and keyless. / ' “Oh, this is antes! said Dwyer, a look of disgust on his face. “What’ § that?” Duncan asked. “Can't fasten the door,” replied Dwyer. | _ “Well, we can push the bed against it.” “Yes, that’s so. ,Let’s do it.” | St Dwyer stood at the head of the bed and Duncan at the foot. They lifted the bed clear of the floor and carried, it against the si iss A ae TF _ > “Now, if guess we are. safe,” said Dwyer, as he glanced ‘ around the room to see if there was any other way of getting H or out. 7 \ ) “Yes: there’s no. other way that i ean see,” remarked Dutt can, as he commenced undressing. “I say, Dwyer, that land- lord has a hard cheek, hasn’t he?” i - “Regular ao replied the minstrel, “and his gang ‘ts just 4 an ‘ as 80, iff haa’ objected to treating that crowd e fired us out ee than lightning; f knew that Seg “ae eft y as the candida root 80?” “How can forty-seven men take seyenty drinks?” Anes tee of sadness coming into his face, “and I have bitterly regretted that I ever tasted a drop of liquor of any kind.” A “Oh, I’ve sworn off a thousand times, and turned over new leaves until there are no more in the book to turn. But it’s no use. When I get with the boys and want a little fun, w get to drinking, and then we make things howl.” “But doesn’t it hurt your reputation——” be “Oh, Lord!” and Billy Dwyer burst into a hoarse laugh. “Reputation! Why, if you want to kill a man’s chances in New York call him a temperance man. At least, that’s the case in the crowd I run with.” Duncan smiled. ‘ “T guess you've been running with ‘a bad crowd,” he said, as Ne i he got into bed. Cia ; “Well, I don’t know about that. There are some pretty. ; good fellows in the profession,” and Dwyer rolled himself in’ en the sheets for a nap. bic, Dick lay awake a long time thinking over the situation, He was in the deepest distress. “Oh, if I had never drunk any wine,” he moaned, “I would now-be at home with my friends ar her whom I love better than life. But I drank, and now here.I am, hunted like a wild beast, and the only friend I have is one who is a slave to. , the bowl, though of noble. impulses and generous hearted. If 7, I keep with him I shall drink as he does, and become an- out: east—a drunkard.” By this time Dwyer was snoring like a saw mill. “How am I to sleep under such a noise?” muttered sean “I never heard & man snore so vigorcusly.” ' ; He tried hard to sleep, but it was the first tine in his life he 4 ever had a snoring. -bedfellow, so he tried in. vain to court the drowsy god. ‘ is Suddenly he heard stealthy footsteps outside the room door, and in another moment the door was pushed against. The bed prevented it from opening, and a mauErehee curse was Rel 6, heard outside. os “Cuss ’em!” growled the voice; “we'll have to take the lad- der. They’ye got the bed agin the door.” Then Dick heard them mete and the snoring of the . minstrel went on. i “Lueky thing we placed the bed against fis door,” he mua tered, and then he lay still, listening to hear anything else) that was to follow. Happening to look toward the acne he saw the end of a ladder against the window sill. “Ah, I understand what was meant by the Adie he he said. “They are going to rob us at all hazards. Well, ru see about that. Haney think this snoring is enough for two babe "Pwo men. were ascending ‘the Sean The ae w | bartender of the hotel. = : _ He waited ‘till the first man’s head was, even with “Do you want to come. in? ¢ ie AN no!” gasped the ae “What do you want there?”) / £0
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ae: | | DICK DUNQAN. ‘picked up the two men who were on ihe ladder. Duncan saw dt - them from the window, and noticed that the men were very _ anxious to get them away as quickly as possible. i ‘-“T tell you they are Poe dead!” Duncan heard one of the men say. aS “Then we must get them out of the way—quick, to the i river with ’em!” ee | Hach seized a man and rushed across the street toward the dock. “My God!” cried Dick. ES “be drowned!” \ But he was too agitated to say anything to "prevent the ter- Ug rible deed and in another minute or so he heard two splashes & in the water, and knew that the two men’s fate was sealed for- ever. The assassins then. ran back and drew the ladder across the ‘street to the side of the pier. “That will be another mystery cf New York,’ muttered Dick, as he stood there and\gazed out upon the scene of the r: ‘tragedy. “pheir fate will neyer be known, for those Who ey know it will say nothing. Oh, it’s horrible! In less than a week I have been either directly or indirectly the cause of the death of three human beings. But for wine I would be in wandown to-night, free from care, and happy. There is death in the bowl. Will I meet my fate there? Where am I going? How can I break this terrible chain of circumstances around me?” rf How long he would have remained there, musing over the horrors of his situation, he knew noi, for he was too much ex- : cited even to think. about sleep. . But there came a gentle “They're only stunned—they will imocking at the door. / " Dwyer sprang up in bed, and exclaimed: Vie “Halloo—avho, is that?” ' \ “It’s me—open the door, i intel a voice, evidently belong- - ing to a female. poy } “Wait a moment, 2 said Pian eottine out of bed and pre- paring. to pull the heavy bedstead away from the wall. ae “Dwyer,” whispered Duncan, clutching his arm, “don’t open _ that door! aia { “Why not?” “Dangerous.” 1 fs i. h “How $02” | — “They are trying to rob us.” “But they can’ t do it when we are wide awake,” said Dwyer. ; * * : y ’ “There's a dozen men ont: there, all armed to the teeth. "already killed two of them.” | ; ‘Oh, the devil! What are you giving me, anyhow? can hurriedly led him to the window and explained. 4 wyer’s eyes almost popped out of his head with astonish~| He was: net a coward, by any means. I’ve: ee, when si ‘Tam all, undressed, and ‘ id my clothes in aaererye pleade d the Hite. iy ¥ eu ie Wee ee a hoe, We ‘| we'll hail him and claim his protection.” fink trial there would be very ‘grea “Say!” called Dwyer, “if you fellows don’t go away and ‘let us get some sleep there’ll be a funeral from sia house hp morrow.” “You open this door!” demanded the ear se voice again, “T have paid for this room,” said Dwyer, “and now I am g0- ing to protect my rights to it. When i count five I will open fire if you are not gone.” mans And then Billy commenced counting. When he had pronounced the word three there was a stam: pede among a number on the oniside. “Wa-ha-ha!” laughed Dwyer, “tho cowards! There must have been a dozen of them. We can go to bed now.” “No,” said Duncan, “I won't close my eyes in a place’ ithe: this. It’s only two hours till daylight now. You lie down ang I'll watch by the window.” % “Well, ’ll sit up with you;” and the two Grated themselves — and sat in chairs in the middle of the room, waiting for the — light of day. Cy “This is a bad place,” said Duncan. ~ “What do they eae to 3 get into the room for, now that they know ‘we are awake, Se wonder?” i > Pn Tes “They want to wipe us out for fear we will give it away, i and have the house pulled,’’,replied Dwyer. 5 “But Iam as anxious to keep it dark as they are,’” remarked Dick. “But they don’t believe ttiat: ve ¢ { : “Suppose I tell them so?” | i “They would just laugh at you. ‘then we can get away all right.” They did wait for the sib of day, and then they began to, cogitate, \ . “How can we get out without a tight?” was the fuetietary that was uppermost in their minds. They feared that when they atterspted to leave the room | they would be pounced upon by the assassins, and stabbed to death, their bodies hidden until night, when the res woul be the convenient receptacle of the bloody deéd. ees AS “We'll wait till an officer passes,’ said Dwyer, at then No; wait til daylight, and “That would be a good idea,” said Duncan: “But we'll have, to wait till after sunrise before we can see one, I SUCBB, tit : “We'll keep a watch for them, anyhow.” i ee as An hour passed, and sunrise greeted them. They kept a. Waten at the window. Nee be a4 Vy “By George!” exclaimed’ Dwyer, “mere comes a _ whole ore he of police. It must be the Dolice relief guard,’ Spear DLN i > “Maybe they have come to arrest me,” said Duncan, turning pale, as he glanced out at the brag soars minions of the lawe)i ; a= u wet " sb eye hes) Sl By en ae Wigs Pies inhd t f fi " cHAPTR ‘XIX, Ss x Wi he fear i THE RESCUE—SAVED Be THE POLICE, ' | At ie: sight of thie! police foil ka Jing resisted an_ officer in the igcha danger the alleged murderer ¢ of eee ye it he fell into their Tanane oe ‘| danger of being ‘killed by. those Be ne of t
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“The devil!” exclaimed Dwyer, in some surprise. ‘“Why not?” “Because I don’t want to fall into their clutches,” was the reply. “You know they were looking for me last night.” _ “Yes, I know,” said Billy, scratching his head and looking quite dubious, “but you see we are in a tight place just now.” “So we are, ee not any more so than we were last night, I » guess.” “Yes, we are. The police won’t kill us, while those fellows i ' downstairs will, if they get a chance. I don’t think those officers out there know anything abuut our racket last night, t as we are in another ward altogether. I'l] call the officers up, and if they do recognize you, why teu dollars each will make it all right. _Helloo, officers!” 7 Dwyer called from the window and Dick sprang back out of tt view, his heart fluttering like a caged bird. “Well, what is it?” the sergeant of the squad asked, stopping and looking up at the window. -“Come up here a moment, two of you. rheces something _-here in your line.” The sergeant took one of his mea with him, and left the others standing on the sidewalk. Eniering the place he found the barroom empty. The barkeeper had dodged out of the way, as had the proprietor. The way was clear. The ser- geant and his man promptly ascended the stairs and knocked > at the door of the room in which our two-heroes were. : Dwyer opened the door as Duncan pulled the bed away, and the two officers entered the room. “What’s the trouble here?” the sergeant asked. “We want protection im®getting cut of this place,” said Dwyer. y, “What's the matter? Can’t.you leave it unmolested?” “We are afraid to undertake it. You see, a gang down- _ stairs swore they’d lick us when we came down this morning, 7 and——” ; ' “But there isn’t a soul downstairs,” interrupted the ser- geant. ) “Oh, that’s: because we hailed you. They were laying for ee : qr 7 “‘What’s the trouble between you and them?” “Oh, they tried to go through us last night,” said Dwyer, “but we kept them out, and they swore as fix us when we came out this morning.” z “And is that all you called us up for?” the sergeant asked, with an incredulous look on his face. i “Yes, that’s all,” said Dwyer, a broad grin on his face. “Of ourse, there’s nothing mean about us. We'll set up the beer ‘or champagne. You can have a good time on this when you go off duty,” and with that he handed them a ten-dollar bii each, which they grabbed with a huagry eagerness. “Oh, yes,” said the sergeant; “that’s all right. We'll show you down and see that the gang does not trouble you. Come o: ” and leading the way the sergeant retraced his footsteps a ind passed down to the street again, followed by Dwyer and Duncan and the other policeman. / : Both drew : a long nea of relief as they reached the aoe % ra hig are all right now, I guess,” sata the sergeant. — “Yes—good day—much obliged to you,” s said Dwyer; prompt- d own. the street, with Duncan close to his side. ned, and went the other way—the way nae) n Dwyer hailed them, 4s etter than I could have. done. You as much as anybody else id nee Shae oy cas . ‘it 7 y 4 q i t - DICK DUNCAN. Bi yer,” said Dick, a smile on ite ne ; two tens,” and Duncan drew two ten-dollar bills from his ~~ pocket and tendered them to Billy. ; | “T won’t take them,” said Billy, with flat-footed emphasis. “But you must take it, my good friend,” said Duncan. “I f cannot let you pay out twenty dollars for myself that way.” j “Why, it was your money I gave them!” “No, it wasn’t. It was your money—money I loaned you. — You must remember that I have plenty of money, and can at- ford to lose thousands where you cannot afford to part with a dollar,” and with that Dick shoved the two bills into Dwyer’s hand, and added: “Now, we want some breakfast. Where can we find it?” “Guess we'd better jump on a car and go downtown. Plenty of restaurants and hotels down there.” “Very well—let’s get away from this part of town as quickly \ as possible. I don’t want to get into any more trouble, an. Ef have the police after me again.” “T don’t think there is any danger,” remarked Dwyer. y a “We might come across some of those fellows, and a few words will lead to a fight. That’s the only danger.» If I g into any more trouble the police of the entire city will be put ea on my track.” 4 Dwyer laughed, and said: apes) “You had better let me go and see if I can’t fix the captain of the district, and have the matter dropped.” “Of course, if there is any possible chance of doing so.” “Oh, there’s plenty of chances. ‘The price is everything. may take two or three hundred dollars to do it, though.” “You can Have a thousand if necessary.” “Well, I’ll go up and see about it after we have had some breakfast. Here comesacar. Let’s get in and go downtow: xe They hailed the car and got in. Duncan seated himself near Se a lady, and Dwyer stood on the front platform. On the next corner below two policemen got on the car. Duncan looked up and saw that one of them was the officer h> ° had knocked down the day before. It CHAPTER XX.- ARRESTED—ESCAPE—DRIN KING—ROBBED. » The officer saw and recognized Dick at the same time, and at once whispered to his brother officer. Dick was alarmed, but he kept his seat and resolved to Face the danger as calmly as possible. ve Thinking him a very dangerous person, the two officers. agate vanced upon him with their drawn clubs. i “Your name is Dix,” said the officer, “You are my prisoner.” , { ‘ The lady near his side gave a little feminine scream, and, hastily moved to the other side of the car. “Yes,” said Duncan, “that’s my name. I am guilty of giv- 3 ing a policeman a black eye. I am ready to go with you and inn 4 pay the fine.” } One of the officers rang the bell, anid the car stopped. - They got out, and Billy Dwyer did the same. He knew one of the officers—had known him along time. _ ; Bs “Halloo, Baker!” he said to the officer. Sb sgh map “Falloo, Billy!” returned the officer. not full as usual this morning?” “Haven't had time to get: full eee as was spurge 8 reply. “Just got up.” f ; “Pretty full last night, eh?” “Yes—yes, legos you’ re in luck this. morning, 0 “How 80?” “How is it you are At
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DICK DUNCAN. 21 ——— a » “You’ve got my friend in tow there. make him give a cool hundred to both of you.” “Has he got the pile?” “Yes—fifty each.” ses, ” 3 “Tt’s a bargain, then. Tell your atl to take his hands off, and we'll fix it all right.” \ Baker turned and half whispered to his brother officer, and _ the latter released his hold on the prisoner. “Have you got a hundred with you, Dix?” Dwyer asked. “J don’t know—will see,” said Dick, feeling in his pocket. “T have got but eighty dollars—here it is.” _ “Tye got some,” said Billy, and adding another twenty to the eighty, he slipped it into Baker’s hand, and then the two immaculate guardians of the law marched on up the street, leaving Dwyer and Duncan to pufsue their way in peace. “Ha-ha-ha!” chuckled the mimstrel, as the two officers turned -@ corner, “we’d better go and get some breakfast before ‘some other officer picks us up and takes our last dollar.” “Yes, let’s have a good square meal anyhow. After that rll go to the bank and get more money. But I'd like to know just where this thing is going to end. I may be arrested two or three times every day, and have to pay out as often.” “We'll fix that with the captain,” said Dwyer. “How would you like a good breakfast of oysters?” _“Would like ’em first-rate.” “There’s an oyster saloon on that corner over there. go in there and have a good fry.” They went over to the saloon and ordered oysters, and while waiting for them Dwyer ordered a glass of champagne for ~Dunean and took a whisky straight for himself. ‘ am “I don’t think I ought ever to drink another drop of wine,” said Dick. “That has» been the cause of all my troubles. 3g “Yes, but I don’t think a glass before breakfast would hurt F you,” remarked Dwyer. “T have got you in charge now and will see that you don’t get into any more scrapes. You don’t "understand the art of drinking so as to get the most good out of the stuff. ol ie “Oh, I know that if I had never drunk any wine or other liquors I-would not have been in this Scrape.” _ “Well, I'll be hanged if I ever heard a sport talk that way Bie before,” and Dwyer turned and looked him squarely in the % face. “What's the matter with you, anyhow?” “Oh, there’s nothing the matter with me,” said Dick, “only oi am conscious of having made a fool of myself, that’s all,” a d fearing that he might betray himself by further lamenta- t m, he wisely refrained from any further remarks on the “subject. They both drank what was placed before them, and hen turned to discuss the oysters which soon followed. Dwyer drank deeply, of course, and soon forgot all about h* proposed visit to the police captain for the purpose ‘of arrang- ¥ ing ; a peace between the force and Duncan Dix, as they knew 0 our hero, THe result was a spree which carried them to the er end of the city, among the rum shops and dens where famous minstrel was well known. ly of all sorts of liquors, and gol so beastly drunk that a Sof ruffians relieved them of every cent of money they S I d about them. | Inconscious of the robbery, Dwyer. led the way into another oon and called for more drinks. i : nverybody (hic) drink,” he said, looking around at a halt re of hangers-on about the place. A They 1 made a rush to the Dey and clamorea tor tei respec- Let’s Rep er rs. NTE ee Te, SU gee er | Se ae Let him go and I’llj There they drank | — toward the man who had ordered the treat, as if waiting for his pay. ; Dwyer set, down his glass and began fumbling in his pocket for the change. He searched first in one pocket and then an- other, and was astonished that he found no money. Seeing how slow he was in producing his money, the bar- keeper said, quite sharply: “One dollar and a quarter, sir.’ “Been (hic) robbed, by George!” said Dwyer, looking at Duncan. Dick quickly felt in his own pockets and made the same dis- . agreeable discovery. “So have I,” he said, equally astonished. “See here, you loafer!” cried the barkeeper, indignantly, “pay for those drinks, or I’ll smash you!” and he shook a brawny fist in the minstrel’s face. “T’ve been robbed,” said Dwyer, partially sobered by the danger that menaced him. “That's too thin,” sneered the mixer of drinks. come that old dodge on me. That trick was played on Noah in the Ark, and the joker was thrown out to drown. Pay for those drinks, old bum, or it’ll be the worse for you.” Dwyer looked around among the bummers to see if any- one there knew him. , “I'll give-a check for it,” said Dick. ; “Check be hanged!” roared the barkeeper. “Got millions in the bank, I suppose, and yet can’t pay for drinks! How many banks have you fellows got, anyhow?” vs “I can buy out your old bar,” said Dick, indignantly. “Guess you could, but I ain’t selling out on credit, down and no dodging. Here—pay up, sir!” keeper seized Dwyer by the collar and shook him savagely. That was more than Dick could stand. He struck the bar- keeper a powerful blow on the ear which sent him reeling half way across the room. eg Then the row commenced. The bummers pitched in pro- miscuously, and a general free fight was the result.” As usual in barroom fights no man cared particularly whose head he punched. It. was a free fight, and a free fight in a barroom means free whisky to anybody who chooses to help himself. They did help themselves. A bummer would seize’ a bottle of whisky, turn it up and empty it, and then break it over the head of the one nearest to him. This made things lively, and in a few minutes the liquors were pretty well gone and the till penhiless. — But the fight was a terrible one for a few minutes. The burly bartender recovered from the staggering blow Duncan. gave him, and pitched in, striking right and left, knocking Cash | Dwyer all in a heap the first blow, and sending ae shy oo away another. Dick closed with him, and a desperate* cnet sete struggle ensued, during which the bummers helped themselves to the contents of the bar. But the police came in, and the battle of clubs began. Heads were thumped as though they were made for that particular exercise, and blood ns re down ‘the faces of ‘Acif f oe many of the combatants. One of the policemen yanked Billy Dwyer out of the bie gh gling mass of angry fighters, and recognized him. “Halloo, Billy!” he oie ae: shaking a up. you up to, eh?” “Let me get at him!” roared Dwyer, ina ae rage. “What are wees crawl down his throat and make him sick!” “Here, hold up, Bill,” and the officer rubbed ee ub close o Billy’s nose. ‘abate Dwyer suddenly looked up and saw that the pais ‘hdd “Tl ae you ten meee to let me by al Ricans whack “You can’t and the bar-. Be ee
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Aid ot hg, Spoke hopefully. “wasn’t much of a ‘resist,’ nohow, anc +that will settle it.” a2 DICK DUNCAN, ‘what's all this about?” the offices demanded of the bar-| could keep it a week. tender, whom he well knew. “Phat bummer there,” he replied, pointing to Dwyer, “eame | Strongly to be resisted. my time, but somehow the old love came back on me too I suppose my life is to be a short and in here and ordered drinks for the crowd which he couldn’t|a merry one,” pay for. I went for him, and this here loafer,” pointing to Dunean, “gave me a clip on the ear.” “How is this, Billy?” the officer asked, turning to Dwyer. “T had over twenty dollars in my pocket when I came in,” said Dwyer, “and when I went to pay for the eens my money was gone. Some cuss had gone through me.’ “Who is your friend?” “He is a friend of mine,” replied Billy, loth to give him away, “who has money enough in bank to buy this thing a dozen times.” “J fear I will have ad run you ane your friend in, Billy.” “Very well; I am willing to go.” “Who is this man?” the bartender asked, looking at Dwyer. “T am Billy Dwyer, the minstrel,” said Dwyer, “as good a man as you will ever be, even when you die and go to Heaven.” “Why, hang it alli; exclaimed the finicenee! “why didn’t you tell me your name? I wouldn’t have said a word about itt “Because you, didn’t ask me.” “Well, let it go, officer, and—— ~ “T can’t do that. You’ve had a big time here, and somebody must go up for it. What’s your name, sir?’ and he turned abruptly to Duncan. ' “My name is not necessary,’’ was the reply. “If I have dons anything worthy of arrest, it is your business to arrest me.’ “T don’t know how long it may lasi with me,” said Duncan, “put I am resolved that the balance of my life shall be a sober one, at all events.” The long night in the cell came to an end at last, and the prisoners were arraigned in the police court. A dozen or more of old drunks were disposed of, and then Billy Dwyer's” case was called. The news of his arrest had gone out, and scores of his friends came forward to aid and sympathize with him. His well-known gentleness of disposition, and equally well-known integrity, saved him from being fined, and he was discharged with a reprimand from the judge. “DuneaneDix!” cried the court Officer, and the name, being thus unexpectedly called, caused poor Dick to sink almost through the floor. They had discovered his identity. The of- ficers had recognized him. , He arose and faced the judge. “You are charged with being drunk and disorderly yester- day when arrested. Are you guilty or not guilty?” “Tam guilty,” was the firm reply. “I was drunk. The bar- keeper seized my friend; and I struck him, and that, of course, was disorderly. It was not only disorderly, but was my last drunk, if your Honor will allow me to say as much. I am sat- isfied as to the result of drinking liquor.” “You talk like an honest, sensible man,” said the judge, “and I am disposed to let you go this time. But there is “{ will arrest you, then, barkeeper and all,” and they were | 2ether charge of resisting an officer in the discharge of his all accordingly marched ‘off to the station-house, save those duty. How, about that?” ‘who escaped on the first appearance of the police. Dwyer and Dick were locked up together. not sit until 10 o’clock the next day, so they were -compelled to remain in the cell all the afternoon and night. The situation had sobered both of them, and they were correspondingly depressed. Dwyer didn’t care so much, as “T guess it’s true, Buda, I) was drunk. God helping me, The court would | 111 never drink again.” - Tears stood in the eyes of the judge. He had been a wild. young man himself, and had not rorgotten the LePTAMONS of his youth, ropnithes man,”’ he sar, fy well know how you feel. I am he had been on such sprees before, and had been in limbo quite | sure you will never again appear in a court of this character a number of times; different. ‘ rT but with Dick Duncan it Was quite | under such charges. . It blights the You Beware of the bowl. fairest reputations, and carries many men down to hell. He well knew that he would be recegnizéd as Duncan Dix, | are discharged, and may——” who had knocked down a policeman and baffled others. He feared that it would lead to his recognition as Dick Duncan, |#8 Dick Duncan, who killed Ardell!! the alleged murderer of Jim Ardell, at the “Temple of Mirth.” “T wouldn’t let it trouble me so much,” said Dwyer, seeing'| Voice. : ; “It will be only a fine for being |! Jared Harkins, his cousin. how distressed he was. drunk and disorderly, which you can very easily pay, and go off rejoicing.” “You forget that, they have another charge against mé, -which might go very serious with me.” “What is it—resisting an officer?” $s “Vos,’ ” “Oh, I guess we can ‘fix that;” and the famous minstrel “The officer can be bought to swear that it “Judge!” cried a voice in the crowd of spectators, “that man 1 Dick wheeled around, and glared in the direction of the CHAPTER XXII. Wit THE DISCOVERY—ARRESTED FOR MURDER, : The accusation, coming as it did, tell like a thunderclap on Everybody seemed to hold his 4 both judge and spectators. “Well, if I ever get out of this, you may look upon me as breath, and every eye was riveted on the prisoner. one of the straightest teetotal temperance men that ever lived. He reeled for a moment, as if staggered by the: sudden ie ‘Iam going to sign the pledge, and keep it as long as I live.” charge, but in another moment he was calm.as a May ‘morn- / “Then you won’t have any more fun,” said Dwyer. “Well, I did have plenty of fun when I didn’t touch a drop, a was the reply. _ into trouble. If we hadn't dr fast this morning, we wouldn't’ nk any liquor at our break- have been here now. enough of it, and now, before you and high Heaven, I swear | this morning.” 2 that not another. drop of the ig stuff shall ever pass my ing, returning the gaze of the judge. “How is this?” the aaee asked. “But as soon ag I commenced drinkigg I got | of Swandown?” “Let my accuser come forward and answer that question,” I’ve had} 8aid Dick, calmly “I have answered to another name here ‘ 1 “That's true—who haa this man’s name is. auchaed: Du / | can?” and the judge looked over the audiende in a kee of “Dwyer: seemed awed by the flerce ‘earnestness of, Duncan, ib and eae at him in silence. accuser, There was a profound sted c) for several moments, and ‘then I’ve turned over several new leaves in ~ He could not.see the man, but he recognized the voice _ “Are you Dick Duncan, 28
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DICK DUNCAN. *Duncan, who has dyed his face and hands to disguise him- self.” ag “Are you the man who accused him just now?” the judge , asked. “No, sir” “Do you personally know Richard Duncan?” Nop sire? _ “How then can you say that you are quite sure of this “man being Richard Duncan in disguise?” € cs “From a photograph in m¥ possession and a description all BY the police in this city have of him,” ; Dick squarely in'the eyes. * Dick’s heart sank like lead in his bosom, but he presented “an outward appearance of perfect s¢li-possession. “Let me see the picture,” said the judge, extending the hand - nearest the officer to get it. ; Pa ‘The officer handed up the picture, and the judge closely scanned it, glancing first at the prisoner. 2 “Step nearer, Mr. Dix,” he said, and Dick adyanced close t9 this Geiss stand. The arte went. up to nies and pulled his beard. : t came off in his hand! The judge and all the’ BLS uttered exclamations of rprise. Dick calmly gazed doula: the bialtod faces. He rotted i ‘fate that was closing in upon him, and thought he saw the shadow of the gallows looming up in the distance. But he was calm now. The greater the danger the cooler he was. Are: yee Richard Duncan?” the ingee asked, the second ne. ; es ” he: replied va have not denied fe I recognized that, a alt do Zon others joined: Nath Ratnebies tended to. stab e killed him instead. OT disguised myself and Ngee , or the ees ot aetite. ‘to get at the otaees rd oward was in the court-room, and at this he yelled: rai or Jim’ 's PPORT boys!” ‘made ae eae a for | Ne pine! Bt id honest ‘Billy Dwyer, turning: ape |) , stood by me. I'll stand by you.” need all my "tri replied the officer, looking | age RO and tears came |) UO N Re rity ines rt The boy took the note, and looked at the address. It was to Leonie. He had carried many a note from her to Dick Danes and: knew very well what this one now meant. He knocked at- the door of the cottage. ‘Leonie herself opened the door. Willie looked up_at her ‘white face, and silently Spe yet Ee the note. ‘She tore it open, and read: “Dick has been arrested, and is now in the Tombs in New York. I will go down in two hours. If you desire to-go, be ready by that time, and I can call for you. JAcop Upkient.” The room seemed to turn around with her, She gasped and clutched at space; but in another nioment she recovered sO. i : far as to stagger to a chair. | “Tell—him—yes,” she said, in a nollow. tone of voice to Willie; and Willie darted away, his young heart bleeding for tha the sorrows, of the lovely maiden! “Dick in prison!” she moaned, when Willie had gone; that horrible Tombs! Oh, my God! they will hang him!) is innocent—he is iimocent!’ They shall not. hang him—they _ shall not. hang him! Yes,<I will go to him. I would have gone before, but I didn’t know wheré'he was.” , She sprang up, and hurriedly began to arrange for the trip to New York. She had several hundred doilars of her own money, and as much more of Dick’s which ‘Upright & Co. had | paid to her in accordance with his instructions. This she would take down to New York, and ae a lawyers to defend him. peal ‘ he Her mother had gone out to nena me ‘ahtoribed. Leonie wrote a note for her, telling where she had gone, and lett it on her. mother’s table, where she “would be sure to see it. Then closing, put not locking, the door, sue hastened, down to the store of Upright & Co. ‘She was so uxcited exe could not big for him to call around for her. ae She met him, and together they repaired ner the dopists “The train soon came along. “Where is Jared Harkins?” Leonie asked, as s they boarded the train. “He ought to go, too.” pays “He is in New York, I believe,” said good old Mr. Upright.’ “But we don’t need any of his help, child. Every dollar iG have in the world ‘shall go to defend Dick Daneea sf necessary.” “Oh, thank you; you are so good!” and ete burst into a flood of tears. Hey eh eae She wept long ‘and Kyatariéally. on “It will do you good, child,” said the good old “merchant; Nir “but you have cried enough now Dry your ay and deb.) | | Dick, ‘see sou cheerful and hopeful.” waretea rl; : “in He° J age AL TS Toe ; s iy, is i ( Oar CHAPTER XXIII. — vf ' «fy tal ie 4) THE Ppa ene 2 vont aren Cay ei
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Apt DICK DUNCAN. basely betrayed nfe!” and he rocked to and fro in an agony of distress, moaning and groaning. ' “Poor Leonie! She will die of a broken heart, for she loved me as she can never love again. I wonder will she come to me now? She will—she will, for I know she will believe me inno- cent.” 4 Suddenly the key turned in the door of the cell, kind-hearted turnkey said: “A lady and gentleman to’see you.” The door flew open, and a form appeared, which seemed like an angel to Dick’Duncan. Leonie darted forward with a cry, and threw herself into his arms. “Oh, Dick—Dick!” she cried; cannot have you!” and the “you are innocent. They “Yes, my darling, I am as innocent as the angels of that man’s death,” he said, pressing her to his heart and covering her face with kisses. “We all know you are, my boy,” said Mr. Upright, seizing his hand and shaking it cordially, and I have come down to tell you that old Jacob Upright and his partner will stand by you to their last dollar.” Dick burst into tears. “I don’t deserve such kindness,” very weak, and——” ‘ \ “You have been more sinned against than sinning, my boy,” said the old merchant, interrupting him. ‘Thousands of good amen have been in the same fix. You must have good lawyers, and then tell them everything about the whole affair. I will get the lawyers and ‘have them here te see you in the morning. * Have you seen Jared Harkins?” “No, sir; I donjt wish to see him,” said Dick. “Why not?” j “Tt was he who accused me and caused my arrest.” “My God!” gasped the old merchant; “that can’t be pos- -sible!” “But he did it, nevertheless,” said Dick. “How? Did you see him?” : “No; but I heard his voice plainly in the crowd ery out that I was Dick Duncan, ‘the murderer.” The old merchant was astounded. “He also gave a DESDE to the police, which I had given to him only a month ago,” said Dick. “The scoundrel!” hissed the old man. - down too hot to hold him after this!” “What can. ‘be his object in doing so, dear Dick?” Leonie asked. “T don’t ifhow. It’sa mystery to me. I can’t understand it. _ We have always been good friends.” es 3 “There is some base, motjve at the bottom of it, you may depend,” said the old merchant, “and I will set a detective to _ see what it is. Tell me now, Dick, how all this thing came about.” t ; Dick paar frankly told the story of his fall and aayeeiont Sacad down to the hour. of his arrest, just as the reader _has them: He omitted nothing, and Leonie wept on his aes as he condemned himself for his Wes wise a Wyching i wine. 4 en é “But I have vowed to high Heaven,” he said, “Hever to touch yo ‘: another drop of any kind of liquor. I never pledged myself ae @ he said. “I have been We “V’ll_ make Swan- x before, but I have now, and God helping me, I will keep 03 _ drink.” x so LOW were; ites so. ifn beabieat ” and ‘Leonie threw her. arms around his neck and kissed him. again and gain. i oe « t artist, Jones,” said the a me man he is.” : Hit is?” } / It j was not thirst but a Geis to Bist others that made me | “But don’t go now,” said Dick, anxious to keep Leonie with * him as long as possible. “Dick,” she said, “your voice sounds a little strange—what’s the matter?” E } “I had a front tooth taken’ out,” “Besides coloring your skin?” “Yes; I wanted to avoid all risk of recognition.” She led him to the door where the light shone on his face; she looked at the dark olive tint, and said: “T would have known you, Dick.” “How?” “By your eyes and your noble appear——” “That is your love, darling. Nobody else would have been so observing. Jared Harkins betrayed me, or I would never % have been found out till after I had discovered the real mur- derer. He knew I had eolored my skin, so he told that fact to the police, and gave them my picture.” “Oh, the base villain!” hissed the old man; “I will. make him sweat for this! Everybody in Swandown is your friend, : Dick, and they all believe you innocent.” ) “T.am so glad of that; I was afraid they would pee me guilty;” and Dick’s face grew more cheerful. “Another gentleman to see you, Duncan,” said the turnkey, ~ suddenly appearing at the door of the cell. “Very well,” said Dick. “Show him in. he replied. I wonder who be Jared Harkins suddenly bounded in and grasped Dick’s hand. “Dick, my boy,” he said, matter?” Dick sprang to his feet, and jerked his hand away from_ him, saying: : “Jared Harkins, you are a base hypocrite, villain and traitor!”’ and he folded his arms and glared fiercely at his cousin. ~ 7 I “IT don’t understand you, Dick,” he stammered. | “You understand: me well enough, Jared Harkins,” said Dick. “It was you who first led me to drink, and got me into all sorts of trouble, and then gave my picture to the police, and accused me of\ the murder in the court-house this morning.” h ie “Why, Dick, I did. gota’ of the “T am sorry—why, what’s the i Is kind,” protested Harkins, “T havé just come down’ from home te see you.” “Jared Harkins,” said old Jacob Upright, “you have been two days in New York to my certain knowledge,” and ‘the old — merchant glared at him as if he would demolish him then and there, if he could.. ‘ “That’s true, but I never gave away any picture of you to Z anybody, nor have I seen you since the night of the murder.” eal “Jared, I know your voice—I would swear to your voice. You eried out in that crowd. this morning that I was Dick Duncan, the murderer ‘of Ardell. I didn’ t see you, but I know’ | the AGtes, Again I say that you are a base villain and a traitor! Leave my presence!” Dick pointed fiercely toward the door. “I—I want to say——” i “Leave my presence, ere I jpeste every. bone in your body!” hh hissed Dick Again, and ia another moment the a tee : gone. vo S ae ay 5) “CHAPTER XXIV. rot ays aa ny ant o ds 0 be. a good kind of a fellow,” said Dick, “and. Jared ‘Har ins out of his ice made him app CE a about Jared than any other than ayers in L =
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t mie 3 DICK DUNCAN. 25 ne ES eee ST OR Ae ee Se ne ee ee SL . heard them muttering in such low tones. ‘‘11l have to’ wait till he gets through with him, or go up and order a picture at once before he gets drunk. Harkins is drilling him for some purpose. It won’t do to let him see me, or he’ll warn him to look out for me.’ He suddenly turned and went out, going back to the artist’s quarters, and, giving the boy a dollar, said: “Here, bub, I don’t know Mr. Jones among all those people over there in that place. Run over there and tell him a cus- tomer wishes to see him, and you may keep the dollar for yourself.” The small boy almost leaped out of his clothes. Such a big sum for so little work had never been paid him before. He sprang up and darted out of the shop, bare-headed: and coat- less, and, dashing into the saloon, rushed up to Jones, and said: “Rich customer, sir, waitin’ for yer!” Jones sprang up, and abruptly left Harkins and his bottle of wine. Harkins followed him half way across the street, “overtook him, ang said: ' “Tt is understood, is it?” * “Oh, yes!” and Jones dashed upstairs to see the rich cus- tomer the boy had. spoken about. He met Mr. Upright, smiling and bowing. “Abh—good afternoon, sir! What can I do for you to-day, sir?” « “Can you paint a good portrait?” the merchant asked. “I think I can, sir,” was the reply. “There are specimens ‘of my work,” and, pointing to a number of creditable paintings hanging against the walls, a light of pride gleamed in his eyes. He was an enthusiastic lover of his art. “Those are very good,” said the merchant. “I wanted a good one of myself painted. If*you can paint one that will please me, your fortune is made, young man, provided you know how to manage a fortune.” “T’ve never had one to manage,” said Jones, “but I wouldn’t hesitate a moment to undertake the management of one,” The old merchant smiled and said, good-naturedly: “You would find’it more difficult to keep one than to make one, I guess—at least, I do. When can you give me a sitting?” “At 10 o’clock to-morrow morning.” “I shall be promptly on hand;” and then, handing the artist a ten-dollar bill, said: “This means that I will come without fail. Don’t haye anybody else in the way;” and then he went. away. ; “That's the man I’ve been looking for these many Years,’” said the delighted artist, dancing around the room, and blow- ing on the bill “for good luck,” as though he was on the point. of realizing a long-deferred ambitious dream. ° “Nor did I love you so much as now,” he said, pressing her to his heart. " “You did well to order him away, Dick,” said Mr. Upright, “and I shall see to it that everybody in Swandown shall know what he has done. I believe he is up to some kind of des- perate game. Has hé ever hinted-love to you, Leonie?” _ ‘Lord, no, sir!” replied Leonie, in surprise, “Has he any reason to want to be revenged on you for any- thing, Dick Duncan?” ; “Not that I ever knew of,” replied Dick. _ “Well, it passes my comprehension,” muttered the old ‘merchant. “I can’t understand it, nohow. But I’ll get the best lawyers in the whole city, and let them unravel the - tangled threads of this whole thing.” ' “T will remain in the city, dear Dick,” said Leonie, as she arose to leave the cell, “and will come and see you every day. Keep up a brave heart, and all will come out right in the end.” _ “Now, that’s the kind of a girl to have!” exclaimed the old _ merchant. “Keep up a brave heart. She don’t tell you to cry, ‘and that she is afraid they will hang you. You lucky dog! * I’ve a good mind to leave you to your fate, and take her my- , Self.” Dick smiled, and Leonie laughed outright. “Mr. Upright,” she said, “if I am ever left a widow, ands you are still alive and single, I’ll consider myself engaged to you.” : “Good—give me your hand on thai!” and the benevolent old merchant turned and grasped her pretty little hand in his. “T’ll hold you to your word if you have a dozen children.” __-4, Leonie blushed, laughed, and placed her hand in his with all ; the confidence of a child. “Bless you, my children!” said Dick, and ‘all three Hite st into hearty laughter. “We must go now,” said Leonie, kissing him tenderly. “I 4 5 will come again to-morrow,” and then she took the old “Fy merchant’s arm and left the cell. “She is the light of my life!” daid Dick, when the door closed on him again. “An angel. But for love of her I would not care to live.” The old merchant took her to a hotel not far from the Tombs, and engaged room and board for her. “Have you got any money with you, child?” he asked, as he he Was about to leave her to go in sear ch of a lawyer. : “Yes, sir; I have all my money, and all that of Dick’s which “yeu paid to me. i ee eai it would be moe so I brought it : “Bless your dear heart, you will be robbed in less than two days! Give it to the proprietor for safe keeping, and take a ; receipt. for it in the presence of witnesses.” And then he left i: the hotel to go to a certain eminent lawyer whose card had ao 7a been given him. He found the lawyer in, and, after a short - conversation, retained him as counsel, paying a large fee as a retainer. The lawyer promised to call on his client in the Tombs early on the following day, and consult with him about the de- a 1 The old merchant went up Broadway to see J ones, the rtist, and get his version of the killing of Ardell. When he hity, rrived at the artist’s rooms, he found that he was not in. A small. boy was busy at some kind of rubbish work. “Where is Mr. Jones?” he asked of the boy. { “He’ gone over to the s’loon,” was tne reply. Mae ~ F { { , CHAPTER XXv. tot i ig ! THE MINSTLEL AT WORK, member of the firm of Upright & Co. to the artist, and that he ordered him to paint his portrait for him. * . The artist was overjoyed at the prospect ‘of painting a pic ture for such. a rich mian—for th: actions of the old merchant were calculated to make such an- ‘impression on his mind. He SS ‘boy pointed across the street toward a well-known \dway saloon, and the old — took leave and went ce BOLE. he t across the street, to see ‘Harkins, : solved to see the artist a ain after supper, and complete his a | business with him. His absence, however, did not ma: n- | interfere with the mercurial artist's pleas He sat |t ‘a tabl and cal led. for a cot y : on The reader will doubtless remember the visit of the senior - But Harkins was not inthe saloon. . He had gone away, res “> took the fee which had been placed in his hand and hurried ~ (eta:
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“ . DICK DUNCAN. ei Ae ek cs While sitting there, getting mellow over his wine, Billy _ Dwyer, the minstrel, entered the saloon. He had a slight ac- . quaintance with the famous singer and always liked those in the profession, because they were generally jolly fellows, and “ayere also customers of his in many ways. BS Ftelo; | Dwyer!” he called, as the minstrel looked over at u him. “Come and have a whack at this bottle.” ee “ot course I will,” said Billy, going over and shaking hands with him. “I like the shape ef that bottle and the face of the : man beside it,” Hf and, calling for another glass, he proceeded to demonstrate the truth of his assertions. Jones was flattered. : _ Dwyer was the chodt popular minstrel in ‘town, and one of the best fellows in the world; so in a few minutes he was the 5 boon’ companion of the volatile artist and had him completely ¥ in charge. ; When the bottle was finished «Jones wanted fa eall for - another, but Dwyer said: “No, old fellow, let’s wait till later, when I will put up. You * gee; I can es get full to-night till after the performance. so Ae _ “Going to play to-night?” a , “Yes, going to warble, you know. Go with me, and when it is over ‘we'll make things¢howl. I'll deadhead you tn.” 5° ie “Governor,” said Jones, extending tite hand, “I weal¥en. Vu g0.”. | ; Good boy. Come downtown further and we'll have a’ good, _ square meal to commence on.” Just wait till | run over to my snab and change clothes,” ' sai ‘d. Jones, arising unsteadily on his. feet. ‘ “No need of waiting.” said Dwyer. ‘I'll go with you, and r i then you will not have to come. back here,” and they both _ passed out together and crossed over to the shop, where they met. Jared Harkins, who was just on the point of ascending the, stairs. ; “Hello, Harkins!” cried yes feelin good under the in- uence of the generous wine he had been drinking: 3 a “was just going up to see you. I want you to go to the theatre with me to-night,” : “By George!” exclaimed Jones. “Why can’t a fellow go to places at once? Here I have agreed to go with my friend to the minstrels. ‘This is Billy Dwyer, the great minstrel’ 4 —my friend ‘Harkins,”: and the two were introduced .in a ra twinkling. Harkins had read in the papers of Dick Dunean’s " arrest, in company with the famous minstrel, and Dwyer had een ‘posted about Harkins by Dick after he had landed in the ae bs. Both gaees hands. and looked hard at each ieee yet spoke a Bris Bee e / T can’ 20 Losthat 7) was the eeaad reply. he in ‘early. tozorrow morning, will you not?” y asked, a Nani of decided ‘annoyance on his face. Neve an engagement give a gentleman a sit- a » nin Toa aa te es aie Ohl ‘seems to be one of his omens of bad luck to everybody. 9! | was’a recent acquaintance. * /)¥ou not?” Dwyer asked. : fore in his life. ie with him,” af en ae (; £0. to ihe manabipede. other side watching them. Dwyer saw hiin, but keep. Jones from hae! in that wee Haluiis, bowing distantly to}. PR reie rts Ne hae hi names of over a dozen men, who either committed suicide or wee, to prison by reason of their dealings or intimacy with | him.’ “My God, Dwyer!” exclaimed Jones. the truth?” “Yes, as true as Gospel. You can ask at#yone you please who knows anything about him. Do you owe him anything?” “No—not a cent.” ‘ “Does he owe you anything?” “No.” rt ' “Then I would advise you to cut his a¢quaintance in the most emphatic manner. Your business will go to ruin, or some other bad luck will be sure to follow if you have anything to— Go with him. Above all things, never let him call you as de™ for a few words in private when anyone else is present. That “Are you telling “x me y Gently but firmly decline to give him a private interview, and also give him to understand that you don’t: want either Lato or t his shadow xround. oS The astounded artist knew not what to say for a moment, ‘¢ and breathed hard as he glared at the famous minstrel. He i? had known Dwyer by sight Sa FEDER for years. Markins “You have read the papers about that Diek ra aia lie “Yes. “Well, Duncan is a cousin to this man Harkins. They ca dewn to the city together. Duncan had never tasted wine be- He ran around town a few days with Harkins He is in the Tombs, and Harkins 35 He sti be. ihe and now where is he? running around in search of another, vigelage evil one in disguise.” » Jones shuddered. “I'll shake him,” he said, “and neyer have anytnind” mor e. ! i { 48 BENT RNs Aeneas 2 CHAPTER XXVi. ‘ie 4 Pet : THE si ystenroUs ROEBERY. ¢ Ast they went down on the Beeb, Jared Haein Sa a er at all pment and wail at it He 1 on ‘the health eae a a4"
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Jones’ mouth fairly watered at the prospect: His eyes . brightened and his facé beamed with the joy of expectation. \ Dwyer left him and in a few minutes more was on the stage before the footlights, entrancing the audience with his singing. - They greeted him with rapturous applause, and none more so than the enthusiastic artist himself. y . . A dark'frown gathered on the face of Jared Harkins when = he saw Dwyer lead Jones into the private box. “That is to keep him away from me,” he hissed through his clenched teeth. “But I will see, him yet, and that before the _ rising of to-morrow’s sun.” _ Taking up his hat he left the hall and was not seen again by Dwyer that night. As the time sped on Dwyer felt sure that Harkins had given up the effort to see Jones, But he little knew the man. r _ When the performance was over Dwyer hastened to the pri- vate box and rejoined the artist. To a first-class restaurant and saloon combined they re- aired and called for oysters and champagne. They ate the oysters and drank the champagne with a relish ‘that was both hearty and genuine. When the champagne and oysters were disposed of they went out on the street, full enough ofthe spirit of adventure to - go into any kind Of scheme.for fun or mischief. ‘ Hour after hour passed, and at last, both as full of cham- pene: as they Coe possitly be and yet keep in upright uae Sama paid all the expenses of the spree. My At the hotel they were shown into a’ comfortable room, and na few minutes- they were sleeping the sleep of men. of bibu- ‘lous habits. i, * As usual with men who indulge deeply, Dwyer pia early, ‘and wanted a cocktail as an eye-opener. He turned to call up Jones, and made ue discovery that mes was not in the bed with him. “Hello!” he exclaimed, gazing around. the room. “Has he e fora drink and left me? That’s a confounded mean way ‘treat a friend.” { / 1 & “Getting up, he proceeded to ‘dress himself as quickly as «pOs- ; i le, hoping to catch the artist in the barroom. ut on pulling on his pants he suspected something wrong. earching the pockets, he was astonished to find that every on of over one hundred dollars | which he had when he went ed was gone. y the great bear!” he exclaimed, looking as blank as a w itewashed signboard, “I’m literally cleaned out——not a cent! 8 must be a practical joker, as. well as a practical artist. 5 can’t be that he means to rob. me. It wouldn’t pay him to do al eats go. down and see how he has. worked it.” And, has- ‘down into the barroom, he was astonished at being at the artist had not been in there that’ morning. yer looked blanker than ever, He, concluded to go down e sa on opposite his. shop and see. if he! had been there. is was in vain. Ming. UAE s ‘queer joke, anyhow,” said Dwyer, asthe lingered to } i Jones’ shop. uA) Ao me evi i aufe assistant | the lad’s reply. | ate ae mom ne j ; , DICK DUNCAN: case. ers in Swandown. find anything of him nor anybody. renal seen |. fas by faithful £ 2 : ¥ eu > “Bh—what’s that you say?” Heyy . Dwyer advanced and said: “The artist hasn’t come yet, he says.” “Ah—good morning, Mr, Dwyer!” greeted the old merchatit. “Where did you leave him last night?” a . Dwyer motioned to the old man to- follow him and started” off down the street. The merchant followed him and at Maes By a corner below Dwyer stopped and waited for him to come ups, ay “What's the matter?” the merchant asked. ns “That's what I’d like to know myself,” replied Billy. St kept them apart last night, though Harkins followed us to the minstrels, and carried him to a hotel to sleep with me. We went to bed together. But this ROTA when I awoke, I found — both Jones and all my money gone.” Y “Tt is possible?” H ’ “Yes,,sir—not a penny’) in my pockets.” “That's strange--passing strange!”? muttered the old mer- | : chant,,as he led the way toward the hotel, followed by Dwyer. et \ CHAPTER XXVIL - sy ape an “guinty!’” THE TRIAL—-VERDICT: They entered the hotel and took a seat in the” reading-room, * ij mit “This is very strange indeed,¥ said the old man. Ev “T should say it was,” added Billy. “I' would not have be- ih ea lieved that Jones. would do a thing of that kind.” aetna ‘“Well, I don’t believe he did it,’ said the merchant. “The deuce!” 3 oe “No, I do not. He would not give up a five hundred dollar job to take one hundred, knowing that he would be found out. No, he has fallen into Harkins’ hands and will be used seek 4, 18.75" * Billy Dwyer gazed in amazement at the atts old henner and could not say a word. He.-was too much astonished even to” think. y The old merchant merely looked at him and ach Gna. i poke ay) i “We have him in our power, though, if we can catch him. _ He won’t dare to swear false even under Harkins’ manipula- he tion, for fear of going up for this robbery. Here is another re hundred. I do not wish to appear in, this” phase of the work. ~ is Get your breakfast and then secure the best PRE in the city to hunt up Jones. T will ‘pay all &penses. Af Dwyer took the money and went out to get a aie anda — breakfast. When he had satisfied his hunger and thirst, he set out in search of a detective into. whose hands he could put his if He found Will Crolius, the famous- ignite PF Sixth Q avenue, and explained to him the case. ai pete} Crolius at once began a Search ‘for Harkins baa had Tittle difficulty in finding him. But that wily villain seemed to be tent only on business Dertamninesoithe store of. nyt Bro h- Two days passed and still the. absence of ci Rue a mystery. The fact of his pits ‘ke was, s visited daily by his emy found hath “The grand jury “met and the murder of Ardell.
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iis The The prosecution introduced Hank Howard and the others who were with him at the time. Howard swore that the two men fell to the floor in the struggle, and that when the pris- oner, Duncan, was pulled away, Ardell lay there with a knife to the hilt-in his breast. “Whose knife was it?” Duncan’s lawyer asked. “I don’t know.” 3 “Did you ever see it in the prisoner’s possession?” “No, sir.” 4 “Did you see the prisoner stab Ardell?” “No, sir.” “Did you see anybody else stab him?” _ “No, sir.” “Could anybody else have done it?” “T think not.” Other witnesses were called and with similar results. At last Jared Harkins was called by the prosecution. / He took the witness stand and turned a vindictive glance in the direction of Duncan. After telling his story he was cross-examined. “Did you see the prisoner stab Ardell?” “No, sir.” \ “That'll do,” said the prisoner's lawyer. “Hold on,” said the prosecutor, as Harkins was about to ‘step down from the witness stand. knife before the night of the killing?” exhibiting the knife that pierced Ardell’s aeart, : rt Nes.) ! “Where did you see it?” “I saw it several times in Dick Duncan’s possession.” “Liar!” yelled Dick, springing to_his feet in a burst of in- — . dignation. “Order in court!” cried the sheriff, as the excitement arcce - to fever heat. “He has perjured himself!” cried Dick, almost beside himself. “Be quiet, Mr, Duncan,” said.his lawyer, and old Jacob Up- wight also added’his entreaties to that of the counsel. At last he sat down, but he kept his eyes on Soaps till he _ had finished his testimony. The argument of counsel on both sides was able and power- ful. But the testimony, of Jared Harkins was too strong to be ignored by the jury,” and the verdict was waited for with trembling anxiety by the friends of Dick Duncan. ‘At last the jury Gan#e in with a verdict of “guilty.” Leonie Medill gave a long wail of despair and fell fainting in the arms of Jacob Upright.’ | / SiMe - CHAPTER XXVIII. { THE TERRORS OF SUSPENSE. dict was not ‘unexpected, save by the immediate of the doomed man. The friends of the dead politician ere in ecstasies. They had worked hard to bring about the ult, and none was more ye ip: than Hank Howard, one of , . 43 ae the excitement of the verdict had subsided; apd ‘Leonie | edill, had ‘been carried out in a dead faint, the sheriff hea ; ape the’ shoulder and said: "guarded by two Niaptian he arose, shook | d Mr. ge and quietly: nie ‘Did you ever see this’ DICK. DUNCAN. SSS “Thanks,” was all poor Dick could,say, as he sank down on the edge of the little cot. 2 He buried his face in his hands and tried to weep, but a tears would not come. They seemed to be utterly dried up and would not flow. He moaned as if his heart was broken. “Oh, I am forsaken by all the world!” he moaned, rocking to f and fro in an agony of distress. How long he sat there is not known, for when the warden came in several hours later he found him lying unconscious on the floor. F The surgeon was called, who had him taken up and laid on the bed and administered restoratives to him. But it took two - hours of hard work to bring him to. ; ¥ “Poor fellow,” said the kind-hearted warden. “It would be better for him if he never came to.” ‘i He came to finally, very weak and sick. He glared. “Up ‘ate those around him and feebly asked: “Was it a dream? Am I tawake? dreaming?” ani “You must keep very quiet,” said the surgeon. “You have been very ill.” oa “But I am awake?” he eagerly asked. “Yes, I think you are,” was the reply. . “Tn the Tombs.” ; “Then it was not’ a dream. Oh, Léonie—Leonte! it will | break your heart! but I am innocent—I am innocent!” Every eye in the, room was bathed in tears. Not one person but doubted the truth of the testimony against him. a “You will have a new trial,” said the deputy sheriff, “and then your innocence will be established very clearly.” pe “How know,you that?” he eagerly asked, looking up at the - deputy. “y “Your lawyers have asked for a new trial, believing that us they can clear you before another jury,” was the reply. That was a glimmer of hope and he closed his eyes to think. The surgeon and the other officials left him alone with his thoughts again, | an But he was so exhausted that he soon dropped off Gil a4 deep slumber, from which he did not awaken until his break- fast was brought in to him on the following morning. “Here is some hot breakfast for you, Duncan,” said the man who brought it. A - “T can’t eat; please give me Some water,” he said, arising on % his elbow, and looking as woe-begone and despairing as was possible for any human being to look. aK ae “You. will feel much better if you will eat abinetine 2A some strong coffee;’’ and the man carried the cup to him. i - Touched by the man’s kindness, he took the cup and drank e: its contents. It did him much good, and soon he sat up and a, ate some of the breakfast. ; “What. is the, sentence?” he suddenly asked, looking up at the man. ire “You have not been aeienaced: ” was the reply. “Your cow will work hard for a new trial.” Me “But if he fails?” es yes py, “Phen you will be aE Raed Cpa ae what?” i Tell me—have I been | ‘ 4 “Will it be death?” “T—I—I don’t know.” “Who does know—anybody?” “The judge, I guess.” “When will my ‘ounsel be here?” aan ris and faha ened foot ae fi - nto ee ae
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DICK DUNCAN. of that scoundrel Harkins. He swore falsely and I’ll fetch him your: “Too late, my good friend—too late!” said Dick, returning the pressure of his hand. “I am doomed. The blight of the bow! has fallen upon me and slain me. I have but one request ‘to make of you, Dwyer—my dying request, you may consider sili 4 “What is it?” “That you will take warning by my fate and shun wine for- ever.” » “Now don’t go to talking that way, Duncan,” said Dwyer, trying to make him feel more cheerful. “If they hang you I will reform and be a good fellow; but if we beat ’em I'll get off on one of the biggest drunks ever heard of since old Noah’s time.” “Don’t jest with me, Deen? said Dick, reproachfully. “No, I won’t, but just you wait and see if we don’t fetch up _ with those fellows,” and thus he talked to encourage him, though he had but little hope himself. Ais “ CHAPTER XXIX. j SOME FINE DETECTIVE WORK. The efforts of counsel to procure a new trial were utterly futile. The dead politician was a strong friend of the judges and had a host of friends who were determined to bring his murderer, as they believed Duncan to be, to justice. ? The lawyers were astounded at the positive aversion the judges had toward granting a new trial, but could do nothing. They were forced to admit that nothing more could be done, and a day was set for him to be brought into court oie receive ; Sentence. ' “Duncan, my boy,” ‘pare for the worst; I have done all in my power. ~~ mains but one hope and that is the governor.” “Phe governor will do nothing,” said Mr. Upright, shaking his head. “The friends of Ardell have got him in their in- terest. Oh, Dick, my dear boy, I have loved you as a son. I believe. you will die an innocent man,” and the old merchant _ broke down completely, sobbing like a child. “T am not afraid to die,” said Dick, bravely. “I have done no - Wrong except in being led off into drinking. The man who has Bt Sworn. my life away was the one who first led me astray. I only regret that I shall die the death of a criminal. The shadow will never be lifted from my reputation, as the truth, raya ever fully found out, can never repair the mischief.” me “Your friends will ever believe you innocent, my dear boy,” said the senior counsel, “you may pre- There re- ae ae “Yes, I know; but my enemies will taunt porn and call me - nfamous. I thank God that ‘my parents are dead. But for aoe tenced to be hanged in two months from that date. When he was carried back to the Tombs he was placed in the cell allotted ‘to the condemned, which was stronger and m rs) gloomy than the other. It was there that Leonie Medill him when the old merchant brought ee to see him we 1 a on terview was heartrending, and for the first time Dick himself broke down | and wept like a child, as did old Jacob Ur also. ' He was carried into court on the following day ee again, “This. dismal place, and the horrors sur: njure ae oath and forever. eas PY esa He was unmanned for the moment and knew not what to do. 34 But he recovered and insisted on her not coming to the Tombs again. She would not promise, however, and went away at the end of an hour, resolved to work day and night to ascer- tain who the guilty one was. o When at her hotel and recovered from the shock, she sent “3 for Billy’ Dwyer and Crolius, and asked them if they were will. —_ ing to throw all their time into the work if well paid forvit. u They both answered in the affirmative and then she said: ‘ “T will pay you both; go to work and follow that Hank — as Howard and Jared Hawkins day and night, and see what you can do with them. They must know who struck that fatal — a blow.” : oe ‘They set out and Crolius, being an experienced detective, 4 i soon had Howard under surveillance. He kept on his shadow a like a Nemesis who never slept. bare Everywhere that he went the detective was there also, but - } the wily sport never dreamed of it. He and Harkins often met age and discussed the incidents of the trial while Crolius was thal near by. a While he could not hear enough to warrant him in making an arrest, he did hear enough to convince him that they knew enough to save Dick Duncan from an ignominious death. ; “By heavens!” muttered the detective, ‘‘they hold that young © man’s life in their hands. They know he is innocent, yet will not save him. I'll keep on and see if I can’t get a grip on them some way.” And he did feeep on—day and night, resting only when his game’ rested, yet kept his indentity completely hidden. Billy Dwyer was known to both Harkins and Hank Howard, and they knew that he was a faithful ffiend to Dick Duncan, hence they studiously avoided him. Under these circumstances the work devolved upon Crolius. But one evening Dwyer was disguised and took a seat r-or the two worthies. They were drinking wine and felt quite talkative.. “Have you seen Jones to-day?” Howard asked. “No, but I heard from him,” was Harkins’ reply., : i. “He is all right, eh?” “Yes—but is restless. turn him loose again.” “Then fix him.” “Just what I thinking.” Dwyer pricked up his ears and took it all in. The artist was evidently somewhere in the city and would make his appear- ance after the hanging of Duncan. He lost no time in posting Crolius, and that shrewd detective opened wide his eyes. “Just the clew I wanted, Billy,’ he said, rubbing his hands in great glee. “I'll fetch ’em in less te a week, or my name is not Will Crolius!” He watched his men more closely than ever and at last saw that they were preparing to go to a certain private lunatic ay asylum. He overheard them mention the name of the place , and knew intuitively that the artist had been carried there under some pretence or other, and would be held ‘there until his freedom would be no longer dangerous to their plans. — “ . “Pll get a warrant for his arrest for robbing Dwyer,” said peer bs Crolius; and for that purpose he took Dwyer before a justice — ee and had him make an affidavit of the rolfbery, on which a wars : rant was issued and placed in the hands of Crolius. ato “Now, Billy,” he said, “time is short. Duncan will hang toa morrow, unless we can get that artist and see what his test: m mony is worth. It will save poor Duncan, else they woul keeep him out. of ‘the way. Get your Lek aves and come ee with 5 eas Oe ih I don’t think it would be safe ever to
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\ DICK DUNOAN. “Well, you know sight business best. lead.” 4 ee “Good boy. Come along and we'll see if we’ve made any mis- _ take. it Harkins has sworn falsely 1 am the man to help send ~ him for a long term to Sing Sing.” Night came and the two men departed on their |mission, desperate in their resolution to do something to nae an inno- cent man’ s life. CHAPTER XXX. SAVED—CONCLUSION. i The time had come when Dick Duncan was to perish on the -seaffold. / isters and friends were with him. He had been listening to the building of the gallows on the outside of his cell and every blow had fallen like a deatn- Kmell on his heart. | j His counsel had come to take leave of him and listened to his last requests. He had declared that his sacrifice was noth- ing more than the blight of the bowl, as the reader has already i read in the prologue of this story, when the sheriff came in and said: “+7 “Come, ' everything i is ready.” / ee “Tam ready,” said Dick, and then, gazing at his senior coun- 7 gel, exclaimed again: “It is the blight of the bowl!” and stag- aie gered forward into his arms. ' . The sheriff led the way out of. the cell and Duncan, now itis jnerved for the worst, followed with head erect, lips compressed and, face as pale asemarble. “Make way there? Make way there in the name of God and justice! » criéd a stern voice,.and the crowd of ‘Officials who had “erowded around the gallows to witness the execution, gave way. Will Crolitis rushed forward and laid the bleeding body of eave Howard at the foot of the gallows. : “There is the real murderer—Duncan is innocent!” he eried. } “Give him some brandy to revive him up and he’ll tell all ty about it if not too late. Here—brandy or water here, quick!” 4 - 4 Such an interruption at an execution was never seen before. a ‘ The excited spectators crowded around to see wHG the wounded 2 esa me man Was Uees iS ; “Stand back, athens vateeiy ordered the head physician, and he crowd surged back. I fe The physician knevled down and took ward's head in his dap. Water and brandy were given him a he opened Be eyes’ and groaned. 624, { “What's: the matier?”. ‘the physician asked of him. | j “Tam dying! ”- groaned the wretch. th nei to death | by Crolius, the detective.” ~ } ; [ : ospel, a said, Crolius, nodathe his head. ‘good a. shot as'I am, I ‘I would have been I will go wherever you But a few hours more of life remained to him and the min-- “Harkins had never seen it?” ! NOE i The spectators yelled with excitement and rushed forward te cougratulate Duncan. i “What must I do?” the sheriff asked, turning to the warden ay of the prison. A “Put him back into the cell and notify the judge,” reply. He was led back into the cell. “Let me tell Howard I forgive him?” he asked. He was conducted t6 the spot: where Howard’s life blood was fast ebbing away. Pr ne f “Howard,” he said, kneeling and taking his hand in his, “f forgive you from whe bottom of my heart. _May God also for- give you.” ' A faint smile lit up the features of the dying man and another moment he gasped, shuddered and was dead. “Crolius—Crolius!’ cried thé excited crowd. ‘Tell us about 3 ie The daring detective mounted a box in the prison-gara ar said: ; nay “I was employed to hunt up the missing link in this ‘cage and I found it. That artist Jones had been spirited away, ani put into a private asylum out on the Bloomingdale road to Keep him from. testifying in the case. .I suspec ted that his tes' mony was impor{ant ard 80 set to work to Bene out ee pau place. and we got.a clew from them. the asylum after midnight. I produced the warrant and sSaauase the ihe of Jones. T] keeper was scared. But Howard and Harkins ordered me « rt IT wouldn’t go for a cent, and a fight resulted; Billy aud de: cleaned -'em out, Harkins took wings and flew away and Ho ard went down as you see. He told the thing straight to Bill Ae and me, and we saw at once that we ought to bring him aa was the | at once in order to saye poor Dick. We took a small wagon and put him in, and I drove like the devil, leaving Billy to ta care of Jones—I get here in time, thank God.” : ‘Three cheers for Crolius!” yelled one of the crowd, and | were given with a will Leonie was lying in her room at the hotel almost. in the agonies of death hersel? when the news came to her. va te ; She peed © to her feet and ered,’ laughed, Sang. and. ac “She flew to him and kiss 3 the good news a his dabad facut him a dozen times. ’ Leonie ef the hover! iors gs tin were at once married, and we back to Swandown. They were received Ww ith eannon ‘an regular Fourth of July celebration. Jared Harkins was ‘arrosted par sent to prison | tor te years. for perjury.» _ it ; Billy pei ‘celebrated his’ Telease: by. a big drunk be ; avenue one ork city, where re is ‘ ast Nie yu can is eee us i th aan ow!
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The ne Fireman; or, The Mystery of Mark “Howland’s — by Fx Fire Chief Warden. { 51 The Magic Mountain, A Story of Exciting Adventure, i oy Howard Austin 52 ‘The Lost Treasure Ship; or, In Search of a Million in Gold, - by Capt. hos. H. W ilson 53 The Red Caps; or, The Fire Boys of Boylston, by Ex Fire GigE, Warden M54 A Scout at 16; or, A Boy’ s Wild Life on the Frontier, by An Ord Seout 5 Ollie, the Office Boy; or, The Struggles of a Péor W aif. by Aiiyn Draper | 56 On Board the School-Ship St. Mary’s; or, The Plucky Fight $ by Howard Austin of a Boy Orphan, by Capt. Thos, H. Wilson | ‘Bred Farrell, the Barkeeper's Son, ‘by Jno. B. Dowd | 57 Fighting With Washington; or, The Boy Regiment of the ie Slippery Steve; the Cunning Spy of the Revolution, Revolution, by General Jas. A. Gordon . ue General Jas. A, Gordon lg ‘red Flame, the Hero oJ Greystone She | by Ex Fire Chief Warden | Point, by howard Austin 59 Stanley’s Boy Magician; or, Lost i in Afri -by Jas, C. Merritt: 60. The Boy Mail Carrier;,or, Government Serv ice in Minnesota, by An Old Scout 61 Roddy, the Call Boy; 6r, Born to Be an Actor, by Gus Williams 58 Dashing Dick, the Young Cadets or, “ Years at West i ‘Harry Dare; or, A New York Boy in the Nev, oe by Gol. Ralph Fenton es d Fweke Quick, the Boy Engineer, by Jas. C. Merritt Av halete.: the King Harpooner; ly cage: ther on os ba 62 A Fireman at Sixteen; or, Through gles te and Smoke, 2 PBatuling Rube, the Jolly Scout and Spy. A Story of the by x Fire Chief Warden — Revolution, by General Jas, A. Gordon *63 Lost at the South Pole; or, The: DIHREESD of Ice, - i) he: Czar's Service; or, Dick Sherman in Russia, . by Capt. ‘ hos, H. Wilson. f by Howard Austin | 64 A Poor Irish Boy; or, Fighting His Own Wa 4 Bowl; or, The Road to Ruin, by Jno. B. Dowd by Corp. Morgan Rattler | vs the Kang of the Scouts, by an Old Scout*A65 Monte Cristo, Jr.; or, The Diamends of the Berea. : by. Howard Austin. s. Cy “Merritt 4 -Roy Explorers; or, Among the Ruins of Yucatan, by Howard Austin | 66 Robinson Crusoe, Jr., by J Wide Awakes; or, Burke Halliday, the Pride of the 67 Jack Jordan of New York; or, A Nervy Young Teaatinaee, Volunteers, by Ex Fire Chief Warden by Howard Aus fy @ Scout wall. EB aract ; A Retired Bodtext, Ey es; or, The Nine- Headed Idol of Cey- | lon 7 igs, Berren‘t ertreyy 5, 71 Phil, the Boy Fireman}, or, Through Flames to Victory, by Ex F 68 The Block House Boys; or, The Young ange BisGees hh Frozeu. Deep; or, Two Years in the lee, 1 by Capt. Thos. H. AVilson Sw amp Rats; or, Phe Boys Who Fought For Washing- ae _by General Jas. A. Gordon Aro nd the World on Cheek, ‘by Howard Austin oe whacker Ben; oF, The Union Boys of Tennessee, ty Col, Ralph Fenton The Rival Roads; or, roi Engineer to President, * i by Jas, C. Merritt 633.7 he. Ip ‘Volunteers; or, The Boss Fire Company of the titi ‘Toy _ by Ex Fire Chief Warden 34 FE sotblack to Senator; or, Bound to eae ue Way, ‘ ; v Hal Standish ne Daring Spy.» A Shoty of the ph Rebel-. General Jay, A. Gordon A : Story of Life i in New York, by Howard Austin urs 0 a Ral ‘by Capr. Thos, H. Wilson rr, "The Best seal on ane Road, , I by Jas. C. stenin wan ‘Old Scout. a a out algae iS by Hal tandish | 81 Nato’ the icles ing; or, The alms a the ‘Beas by Berton } ertrew 82 The Search for the S ig Shi (aho t f the Hills i , The Outlaws of Tivperary, Dick Duncan; or, ‘Th ight of ‘th eiye vi RY gn ‘ LY # Corporal organ Baptley.: ar Jan the P ot the, 5 alers, or Be be vy Lal 69 From Bootblack t i Broker; or, The Luck of a Boy 70 Bighteen Diamon 72, ‘The Boy Silver King; or, The Mystery of 1 73 ‘The Floating School; or, Dr. Bireham’s Bad ‘ 74 tears Fair in a to or, A Bey pariah ony Te an
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\ 66 | ) A WEEKLY STORY OF THE ADVENTURES OF. | TWO BOYS AND A GIRL. Read about Ben Bright! Read about Tom True! \a Read about Dorothy Dare! | \ Send us a letter or “postal card giving us your bea and we will answer you in THREE CHUMS. : \ ve 32 Pages. Large Type. Colored Covers. Price 5 cents. - YOU WILL FIND IT AT YOUR NEWSDEALER’S. : _ As the title of the publication indicates, these stories are written about two hoys and a girl who are by force of circumstances thrown | together and agree that they will be “THREE CHUMS” through . thick and thin, and will stand by their motto, “ALL FOR ONE AND ae yy ONE FOR ALL,” at all times and places. Mr. Harry Moore, the author, is a new contributor, and we can safely guarantee that ied stories will be the most interesting and up-to- gute of any published. Three Chums panies or, Squaring Accounts with Sear 4 bright. Three Chums’ icianone or, Winning the Championship. Three Chums Accused; or, The Burning of Raymond 1 Three Chums at School; or, All for One and One for All] 5 2 - Three Chums’ Return; or, Back at School. 38. Three Chums ‘at Football; or, Hot Times on the * ‘Grid- iron.’ AO ~4 Three Chums Defeated: or, Ben Bright's Unlucky Acci- Academy. 8 Oh es Chums at ad or, Getting Ready for the Road, ye dent,
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Shes THE STAGE. “: 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. 1 : No. 42. THE BOYS OF NEW YORK STUMP SPEAKER.— _ Containing a varied assortment of stump speeches, Negro, Dutch and Irish. Also end men’s jokes. Just the thing for home amuse- - ment and amateur shows. > No. 45. THE 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- _ ganizing an amateur 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, ete., of ‘Terrence Muldoon, the great wit, humorist, and practical joker of the day. Every boy who can enjoy a good substantial joke should - obtain a a immediately. : mo. HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR.—Containing com- plete structions"how to make up for yarious characters on the stageosether with the duties of the Stage Manager, Prompter, ScepArtist and Property Man... By a prominent Stage Manager. HOUSEKEEPING. 716. HOW TO KEP A WINDOW GARDEN,—Containing fgjostructions for constructing a window garden either in town oeruntry, and the most approved methods for raising beautiful : Hers at home, ‘I'he most complete book of the kind ever pub- ad. a. 80. HOW TO COOK.—One of the most -instructive books ¢ cooking eyer published. It contains recipes for cog meats, iM, Same, and oysters; also pies, puddings, cakes and all kinds of stry, and a grand collection of recipes by one of our most popular Oks. P / No. 37. HOW TO KEHP HOUSE.—Ié contains information for everybody, boys, girls, men and women; it will teach you how to make almost anything around the house, such as parlor ornaments, brackets, ¢eements, Aeolian harps, and bird lime for catching birds. ELECTRICAL. No. 46. HOW TO'MAKE AND USH ELECTRICITY.—A de- eription of the wonderful uses of electricity and electro magnetism ; together with full instructions for making Wlectric Toys, Batteries, ete. ey George Trebel, A. M., M. D. Containing over fifty il- ya@tions. | No. 64. HOW TO MAKE ELECTRICAL MACHINES.—Con- aining 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 Jarge collection of instructive and highly amusing electrical tricks, ‘together with illustrations. By A. Anderson. \. ENTERTAINMENT. = No. 9. HOW TO BECOME A VENTRILOQUIST.—By Harry mnedy. ‘he secret given away. Every intelligent boy reading is book of instructions, by a practical professor (delighting multi- ides eyery night with his wonderful imitations), can master the art, and create any amount of fun for himself and friends, It is the 'Breatest book eyer published, and there’s millions (of fun) in it. WNo:,20. HOW TO DNTERTAIN AN BYBNING PARTY.—A yery yaluable little book just published. A complete compendium of games, sports, card diversions, comic recreations, ete., suitable for parlor or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more for the money than any peek ublished. ' » No. 85. HOW TO PLAY GAMES.—A complete and useful little book, containing the rules and regulations of billiards, bagatelle, backgammon, croquet, dominoes, etc. {er uh ONO. 26; HOW TO, SOLVE. CONUNDRUMS.—Containing all { ‘the Isading conundrums of the day, amusing riddles, curious catches Sud witty sayings. : No. 52, HOW TO PLAY CARDS.—A complete and handy little k, giving the rules and full directions for playing Buchre, Crib- age, Oasino, Forty-Five, Rounce, Pedro Sancho, Draw Poker, Auction Pitch. All Yours, and many other popular games of cards. , No. 66. HOW TO DO PUZZLES.—Containing over three hun- "dred interesting puzzles and conundrums, with key to same. A €omplete book. Fully illustrated. By A. Anderson, ETIQUETTE. No, 18. HOW TO DO IT; OR, BOOK OF ETIQUETTR—It 48 a great life secret, and one that,every young man desires to know ~ Wabout. 'There’s happiness in it, Ae i TO BHAAVE.—Containing Ona. HOW ; etiquette of good society and the easiest and most approved methods Of appearing to good advantage at parties, balls, the theatre, church, in the drawing-room. the rules and eae DECLAMATION. No..27. HOW TO RECITE AND BOOK OF RECITATIONS. ontaining the most popular selections in use, comprising Dutch lect, French dialect. Yankee and Irish dialect pieces, together wth many standard readings. ' 7) No. 31. HOW TO RECOME A SPEAKHR.—Containing four- i lustrations, giving the different positions requisite to become od speaker, reader and elocutionist. Also containing gems from e popular authors of prose and poetry, arranged in the most and concise manner possible. : . HOW TO DEBATE.—Giving rules for conducting de- outlines for debates, questions for discussion. and the best ‘for. procuring information on the questions, given. ity ‘ ; Wess TEN CENT HAND BOOKS.—Continued from page 2 of cover. PRICE 10 CENTS HACH : Y, Publi Sioa SOCIETY. No. 3. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirtation are fully, explained by this little book. Besides the various methods of handkerchief, fan, glove, parasol, window and hat flirtation, it con- tains a full list of the language and sentiment of flowers, which is interesting to everybody, both old and young. You cannot be happy without one. No. 4. HOW TO DANCH is the title of a new and handsome little book just issued by Frank Tousey. It contains full instruc- tions in the art of dancing, etiquette in the ball-room and at parties, at to dress, and full directions for calling off in all popular square lances. No. 5. HOW TO MAKE LOVE.—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. ‘ F No. 17. HOW TO DRESS.—Containing full instruction in the art of dressing and appearing well at homie and abroad, giving the selections of colors, material, and how to haye.them made up. No. 18. HOW TO BECOME BHAUTIFUL.—One of the brightest and most valuable little books ever given to the world. Everybody wishes to know how to become beautiful, hoth male and female. ‘The secret is simple, and almost costless. Read this book and be conyinced how to become beautiful. BIRDS AND ANIMALS, . No. 7. HOW TO KEHP BIRDS.—-Handsomely illustrated,,and ‘containing full instructions for the management and training of the canary, mocking-bird, bobolink, blackbird. pa oguet, parrot, ete.’ No. 39. HOW TO'RAISE DOGS, PGI LERY, GEONS AND RABBITS —-A useful and instruetive book,’ ; Handsomely illistrat- ed. » By Ira Drofraw.. | ae | : fP ett pate 1 No. 40. HOW TO MAKW AND SHY TRAPS. Including, hints on how to catch moles, weasels, otter, rats, squirrels and/birda. at how to cure skins. Copiously illustrated. By. J. Harringtom eene. ; No. 50. HOW TO STUFF BIRDS AND ANIMALS.—A valuable book, giving instructions in collecting, preparing, mountihg and preserving birds, animals and inséets. — ; : No. 54. HOW TO KEEP AND MANAGE PETS.—Giving com- plete information as to the manner and method of raising. keepin taming, breeding, and managing all kinds of pets; also giving fu instructions for making cages, ete. Fully explained by twenty-eight illustrations, making it the most complete book of the kind ever published, MISCELLANEOUS. No..8. HOW TO BECOME A SCIENTIST.—A useful and in- structive book, giving a complete treatise on chemistry; also ex- periments in acoustics, mechanics, mathematics, chemistry, and di- rections for making fireworks, colored fires, and gas balloons. This book cannot be equaled. No. 14. HOW TO MAKE CANDY.—A complete hand-book fox making all kinds of candy, ice-cream, syrups, essences, ‘ete., ete. No. 15. HOW TO BECOME RICH.—TDhis wonderful book pre sents you with the example and life experience of same of the mos® noted and wealthy ‘men in the world, meluding the self-made men of our country. The book is edited by one of the most successful men of the present age, whose own example is in itself guide enough those who aspire to fame and money. ‘The book will give you e secret. 3 No, 19. FRANK TOUSEY’S UNITED STATHS DISTANCH TABLES, POCKET COMPANION AND GUIDE.— Giving the official distances on all, the railroads of the United. States and Canada. Also table of distances by water to foreign ports, hack fares in the principal cities, reports of the census, etc., ete., making it one of the most complete and handy books published. ai No. 38. HOW TO BECOME YOUR OWN DOCTOR.—A won- derful book, containing useful and practical information in the treatment of ordinary diseases and ailments common to every eee Abounding in useful and effective recipes for general com- plaints. : No. 41. THH BOYS, OF NEW:YORK END. MBEN’S JOKD 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. No. 55. HOW TO COLLECT STAMPS: AND: COINS.—Con- taining valuable information regarding the collecting and arranging of stamps and coins. -Handsomely illustrated. No. 58. HOW TO BE A DETECTIVE.—By. Old King Brady, the world-known detective. In which he lays down ‘some yaluable and sensible rules for beginners. and also relates séme adventures and experiences of well-known detectives. ae No. 60. HOW TO BECOME, A. PHOTOGRAPHER.—Contain- ing useful information regarding the Camera and how to work it; also how to:-make Photographic Magic Lantern.“Slides and other Transparencies. Handsomely ilustrated.: By Captain. W. De W. Abney. t No. 62. HOW. TO BECOME A WEST: POINT MIBITARY CADET.—Containing full explanations how to gain admittance, course of Study, Hxaminations, Duties,’ Staff of Officers, Post Guard, Police Regulations, Fire Department, and all _a boy should know to be a Cadet. Gompiled and written by Lu Senarens, Author of “How to Recome a Naval Cadet.” —; : : Com- Senarens, author of “How to. Become a r] sher, Be 24 Union .
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THIS STORY IS PUBLISHED IN No. 8 OF THREE CHUMS A Weekly Story of the Adventures of Two Boys and a Girl. IT IS OUT TO-DAY. PRICE 5 CENTS. i, Issued Weekly—By Subscription $2.50 per year. Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York Post Office, by Frank Touse, No 8. NEW YORK, DECEMBER 29, 1899. — Price 5 Ces, Patsy gave a signal, and the scene shifter in the loft hove away at the windlass, and hoisted Oglethorpe, kicking and struggling, five feet into the air. “Shure, an’ thot’s phwat yez git fur thryin’ to make mashes on dhe gurrils insthid av attindin’ to dhe sp’akin’ av your pieces, »egorra!” muttered Patsy in huge delight.