Stranger, and the crew of the Red Gauntlet re—
ceived their share of her value as prize-money
while yet in port.

Kept posted as to matters in the bay below by
friendly and patriotic pilots, Harry got his craft
in perfect order, drilled his new crew to duty
and waited the right time to sail.

He had employed a coast pilot, an old man
who knew the channel into every port on
the Atlantic coast and who had also seen much
service abroad. .

“Give us a nor’wvst gale and a dark night
and I’ll stake in y life I‘ll take you safe to sea !" said
the old pillt. “ The harder it blows, the better
for us, for the less will they expect to see us take
the risk at such a time.” I

Harry saw a good deal to admire in his fair
cousin, Lucille—cousin by her adoption as the
daughter of his uncle Carroll. I .

She was not only very pretty and Vivac10us,
but really talented, especially in music.

And it was not to be wondered at that the two
grew to like each other very much. Harry was
good-looking, and all women admire courage, of
which he had given such manifest proof.

“ I wish that uncle would remove you and my
dear aunt out to his country—place." said Har-
ry, while conversing with Lucille. “ I hear of so
many cruel outrages committed along our coast
by the enemy~burning of properties, pillage and
murders of unarmed and defenseless people,
that it fills my heart with anxiety as well as iii-
dignation. If they only knew it. they are only
provoking a deadly course of reprisal.”

“ \‘Var is cruel, no matter how it is conduct-
ed,” said Lucille: "‘ but I do not believe it ever
will reach us here. Our ships on the sea and our
armies on the shore surely should keep the en-
emy back.”

“They might if that enemy was not so pow-
erful by land and sea, my dear Lucille!” re-
sponded Harry. “ Fleets of English transports,
convoyed by English squadrons containing more
ships than We have in our entire navy, are n0w
reported as crOssing the ocean, filled with so]—
diers which are to try to crush this country into
submission. They will not do it. We have
right on our side. and even in England there is
a strong party who believe us as right now as
we were in the Revolution. But I must leave
you and go on board. It looks to me as if a
storm was brewing. If there is, it may give me
a chance to get to sea. Once there, you shall
hear from me, if I have the good fortune I pray
for! ’

“I shall be anxious and yet not fearful. Har-
ry. I know you will do credit to yourself and
those under you. And I will pray, day and
night, that your life may be spared and that
soon—very soon—an honorable peace may be se-
cured!”

Thus—they parted.

 

CHAPTER XIIl.
A DARK NiGnT’s WORK.

MB. CARROLL BRENT was the last to say
good-by to his nephew, when the latter decided
to go down the bay to the nearest point where
he could lay out of sight of the British cruisers
and yet be ready for a rush out to sea in storm
and darkness as he had planned.

“God bleSS you, my dear boy—go and pros-
per!” were his last words. “ You have as good
a craft under you as ever floated. Do not lose
her by attempting impossibilitics. Undertake
only that which can be done and you’ll do it. I
know you will never disgrace your name by
any act of dishonor; I only fear you will show
too much bravery.”

“I’ll be as prudent as I can be, dear uncle.
But if they burn and pillage on our coast, they
must not grumble if their own coast gets a lit-
tle of the same kind of treatment!”

Carroll Brent came on shore only when the
Red Gauntlet was under way, heading down the
Chesapeake, with the mantle of night just fall-
ing upon it.

Harry trod his quarter-deck now with a feel-
ing of strength and pride almost indescribable.

is ve3se1 was fully ofliccred and manned, fit-
ted out in the most efficient manner, and he had
no “orders” from any source to control him.
Though far from feeling above taking advice
from those older and more experienced than he,
he really was independent of all control.

Standing down the almost deserted bay, for
the blockade had literally cut off all ingress
and egress to those waters, the pilot took the
schooner into a little nook below Pocomoke,
where she could lay unseen by any spying crew
sent up by the invaders, and wait for the
change of weather which would favor an at-
tempt to go to sea.

A week passed, and all Harry had to do to
pass his time was to drill his men and send out
small parties for fish, oysters and game to add
to their stock of provisions rather than to di-
minish them. They were far enough up the bay
to avoid the predatory parties sent out from
the British ships, which, lower down, left the
poor inhabitants little to live on.

While in his hiding-place, the brother of Lieu-
tenant Seth Coffin ran in with his craft. He,
too, was waiting for weather in which to dodge
the watchful enemy and get to sea with a cargo
of flour and bacon that he had for Havana,
where he intended to reload with sugar and
coffee as usual.

Though unarmed and short-handed, Ebenezer
Coffin was shrewd and fearless, and had no
doubt of success, for he knew the bay and coast
perfectly; and his vessel, too, and could pass in
shoal water where few others dared to venture,
and where the heavy ships of the enemy could
not float.

“At last! At last!” cried Harry Brent. as
night came on, with a drizzling rain and the
wind in fitful squalls puffed out from the west-
ward, tending northerly.

All hands were on board—supper was called
early, and then. with guns loose and already
ooubleshotted for close action. only such sail
set as could be used to the best advantage in the
fresh, nasty gusts which began to roughen the
lower bay, the Red Privateer was loosened from
her moorings in a tree-sheltered little bay, and

V dropped out with the first of an ebb tide.

The English fleet lay anchored thick, about
twenty miles below, and it was also known that
cruisers were plenty outside, for Harry had sent
boats down inshore to points of observation,
and he was well posted as to what might be in
his way.

No lights were allowed. except one in a-shel-
tered binnacle, where only the pilot and helms-
man could see the compass.

The men who threw a sounding-lead from
either side of the fore rigging. were to pass the
depth of water in a low tone to men stationed
between them and the pilot. Every order was
to be given in the same way. Not a precaution
was forgotten.

For nearly two hours the Red Gauntlet sailed
on a compass course, and not a light was seen,
or a sound heard to show the vicinity of an
enemy.

“They’re cunning." said the pilot. “They
know it is the kind 0’ night for running out and
in, and they’ve doused every glim themselves.
If we see one it’ll be when we’re afoul of ’em.
Blow. good breezes, blow, and drive us out 0’
this!”

“ Where are we now?” asked Harry, as he
saw the pilot take the bearings of a beacon light
away to the starboard.

“Nearly off Hampton. and We ought to be
right among ’em, if they’re where they mostly
lay.” was the answer, in a low tone. “ Ah——d’ye
hear that?”

“It is the plash of muffled oars rising and
falling in the water,” said Harry. “ And they’re
close aboard.” '

“ We’ve passed them. It is darker than
pitch, cap’n,” was the remark the pilot made,
after listening a few moments, almost without
breathing.

The wind now blew heavier. They were
drawing out where it had a full sweep.

Suddenly they shot by so close to a black.
lofty hull, that it seemed as if their masts would
hit the square yards that literally hung over
them.

“ Ship, ahoy! What craft is that?” came out

   

 
 

mulch“ .lllnmuu

,. hilllllllllllllll.

  

in a gruff hail that seemed near enough to be
on their own deck. '

Not an answer. Not a loud breath in reply,
and the privateer sped on in the darkness.

“ You saw nothing,” Harry heard some
one cry out.

“I saw and heard the rush of some craft,”
cane faintly from astern.

Yet no light was Seen, nor was a gun fired.
The man who hailed must have been in doubt.

“Hark! I hear canvas flapping. Port a
little. It is on our weather bow,” came from
the pilot. “ Starboard at the helm! Fall away
two or three points!”

A minute more and they were past another
danger. A vessel beating in against the wind
was tackin;r near by, and made noise enough
to show where she was, while it drowned the
dash from the sharp bows of the Bed Rrivateer.

"' We’re right in the heart of the fleet," said
Harry.

Another dark hull was close aboard.

“ A sail! A sail!” shouted at keen-eyed officer,
or lookout from this craft.

“ On with the canvas—severy thread we can
carry. “'e’re in for it now!” cried Harry, asa
dozen blue 1 ghts and two bright rockets went
hissing up into the darkness.

(To be continued—commcnccd in N0. 154.)

 

THE RING IN THE SAND.
BY T. C. HARBAUGH.

Yes, I found it where the waters
K ss ihe moonlit Sfl‘aDdZ

Slow the tide ebbed. and I drew it
From the golden sand.

I had deemed its glitter herald
Of a couly thing;

And I lightly laughed to find it
But a plain gold ring!

Do not seek of me the story
Of its history:

You can read the bauble’s sorrows
Just as well as I.

But I murmured when I drew it
From its sandy brd: '
“ She who wore it must be sleeping
Down among the dead."

Then the waves took up the echo,
Mournfully they said,

Till my heart was filled with sadness:
“ Down among the dead!“

And before me passed a vision,
Ofa maids n fair.

Standing where ' found the bauble,
Cloth: din love’s despair.

And she murmured softly, sadly:
“None so false as he!

He may take the ring dishonored,
I will seek the seal"

At her feet she cast the circlet,
And with tear and sigh,

Sought the SuOWy crested billow,
On its breast to die

Still the ocean sings a requiem

0 er the inairlen‘s h ad.
Pilluwed in a merinaid’s palace,
' Down among the dcfldl

 

 

 

Battling Hal,

THE PRINCE of the ’PRENTICBS;

on,
The Old Locksmith’s Secret.

BY CHARLES MORRIS.

AUTHOR or “THE DAISY DETECTIVES,” “THE
WHITE snEiK,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER XX.
A TALE OF A LIFE OF MYSTERY.

THE mansion in which May Clifford had taken
up her residence was a large and fine one in the
then fashionable part of the city, a region which
is now giVPn up to the wholesale business
houses. but was then occupied by the blue blood
of Philadelphia. ‘

She was residing with a cousin of hers, pri-
vately. She had reasons of her own for not
wishing it to be generally known that she wasin
the city.

Yet, as we have seen, she employed her own
servants. The young lady was not without
means, and desired to be independent.

One main reason of her desire for secrecy was
her dread of two persons, Miss Perkins and Pat
Lyon, whom she had always been taught to be
lieve were her deadly enemies.

She had been adVised by her old friend, Mr.
J udkin. to come to the city.

But he had also instructed her to do so secret-
ly, warning her that it might prove dangerous
if her visit was known to her enemies.

All this she had told to Hal Prince on his vis-
it to her on an evening shortly after the occur-
rences just related.

Hal was got up in his best attire, and was a
very handsome fellow, as he sat in an easy—
chair, in the handsomely-furnished parlor of
Mrs. Wells, May’s cousin.

Opposite him sat May, looking prettier than
ever, and with an expression on her face of
complete trust and confidence in the handsome
’prentice.

Hal bad man ed to get on the right side of
his fair friend. here was no danger of her run-
ning away from him again.

“ You have told me a few things, Miss Clif-
ford,” he said. quietly. “But it isn‘t half nor
quarter of what I want to know. Do you know
that you are a regular riddle, and that I’m
completely used-up trying to guess your mean-

 

mg?
“ Am I ?” she asked.
“You are. 1 give up the conundrum. I want

you to tell me the answer."

“ Mercy. Mr. Prince. I know no more about
it than you do yourself.” .

“ What!” he cried. “ Do you mean to say
that you don’t know why these villains are try-
ing to carry you off, or what sort of a game
your enemies are playing?”

“ I know nothing about it. I know that my
life is surrounded by mystery. But I have nev-
er been able to see through that mystery. It is
as dark to me as midnight.”

He loo ‘ed at her in surprise.

“ Well!” he broke out. “ So your dear
friends have been keeping you in the dark?
That was very kind of them. Did Mr. J udkin
tell you nothing?”

“ He always said it was best I should not
know yet. It would double my danger if I knew
the whole. And he was not at liberty to speak
until a certain time, he declared. Then he
would tell me all.”

Hal’s look grew quizzical.

“ Do you know that you are a very innocent
young lady?" he asked.

“ I never pretend to any great wisdom.”

“ And Mr. J udkin is a very tender-hearted
old gentleman. It is lucky I am at libertyto
speak. I am not afraid of hurting you by let-
ting a little bit of the cat out of the bag.”

May’s eyes had grown large and eager as he
spoke.

“ Oh, then you know! You can tell me!” she
exclaimed, starting impulsively to her feet.
“ Oh, speak out. Mr. Prince! I am dying to
learn this secret.”

“ I only know a little bit of it.” he anSWered.
“ You have got to tell me all about yourself be-
fore I can see through it.”

“ I, will tell you all I know. Only speak
out.

She had advanced to the table, and was rest-
ing on it with her hands, looking him eagerly in
the eyes.

“ And it is only guess-work on my part. Per—
haps I had better hear your story first. I don’t
want to raise false e tations.”

She sprung forwar with a look of utter vex-
ation. seized him by the shoulders with her two
small hands. and gave him a little shake.

 

“ There l” she cried. “ W111 you speak? You

 

don’t know what you’ll tempt me to do after
awhile.”

“ I’d like to keep on tempting you,”smiled the
rogue, gazing with warm admiration into the
pretty flushed face.

She released him with a sli ht blush.

“ Won’t you tell me, Mr. rince?” she asked,
in a )leading tone.

“ ll’d be cruel if I didn’t, after that.”

“ Then tell me. Now!”

Her little foot struck imperiously on the floor.

“Are you wealthy, Miss Clifford?”

“ Why do you ask? I have some money.”

“ Suppose I should tell you that you are one
of the heirs to a very large estate, and that
your share will not be less than half a million?”

Her eyes opened wider yet as he s ke. A
shade of paleness marked her face. ‘he stag-
gered a step back, and laid her hand on the tab 8
for support.

“ You are mocking me.”

“ I am in solid earnest. But mind, I am not
sure of this. It is partly a guess on my part.”

She turned again with another revulsion of
feeling. drew up her chair until it nearly
touched his, and seated herself squarely facing
him, with a look of determination on her
changeful face.

“ ell me all about it,” she commanded.

“ No. I won’t,” he answered. “ Not one word
more till I know if I’m on the right orthe wrong
road. I inust know the story of your life first.
There are some clews I want, and that may give
them.”

She frowned slightly. It was evident the
young lady had been used to having her own
way. But Hal looked so coolly resolute that she
quickly saw there was no moving him.

“ “'ell. if I must, I must,” she declared.
“ But you are a revoking fellow.”

“I am sorry, - [iss Clifford. But I’m afraid I
was born that way.”

“ There now, keep quiet
doing anything with you.”

“ Excuse me, but I’m the easiest fellow to
manage in the whole United States. All that
anybody has to do is to let me have myown way
and we get along swimmingly.”

May flashed her blue eyes at him, and then
burst into a merry fit of laughter.

“ You are a sad rogue,” she declared , shaking
her finger warningly. “ But keep right still
now. I’ll tell you all. It is fortunate that I
have not much to tell. You only want the im-
portant points?”

“ I am sure I will be glad to hear all that Miss
May Clifford has to tell,” said Hal. settling him-
self, easily in his chair, and looking admirineg
into the pretty and excited face so near him.

Her color grew 9. little deeper, and she broke
rather hastily into her story.

“ You will not hear much,” she declared. “ In
the first place, I was born in Philadelphia. My
father and mother both died when I was young,
and I was left in the care of my aunt, Miss Per-
kins. I was then only about six years old. I
lived ten‘years with my aunt. I cannot say
that they were quite happy or quite miserable

ears. Miss Perkins was of a hard temper, and
Iwas somewhat headstrong. Likely there was

I see there is no

 

fault on both sides.”

“ When did you first know Mr. J udkin ?”

“ There! You will keep persecuting poor Mr.
Judkin! Why, I have known him since I knew
anybody. He was a friend of my father. Be—
fore he died he told me that I should be ided
by the ad vice of Mr. J udkin. He sai that
there was a mystery in my life that I would not
learn till I was twenty years of age, and that
Mr. J udkin would be my friend and counsel.
I don’t believe my father was deceived.”

“ Honest men sometimes lose their honest
under the force of a great temptation.”said Ha .
‘ ‘ J udkin hasn’t stood the pressure. How old are
you now, Miss Clifford?”
“ Almost twenty.”
“ Then you are almost old enough for the se—
cret. But vyvou say that Pat Lyon is one of your
enemies. hat has he done to you?”
“ I don’t know. I never saw him.”
“ Then what makes you say such a thin f”
“ Wait. I have not come to that at. I ve
only got to my sixteenth year. t that age
there came a change in my life. My aunt be-
gan to act very stiangely to me. I could not
tell whether it was tenderness, or pity, or what
it was, but her manner greatly chan ed. Just
when I was sixteen years old she to] me that
she had to go far West on a matter of business,
and that I must go with her. She said she was
afraid to leave me behind; that some danger
threatened me. I didn’t trouble myself much
about that. I was fond of adventure, and was
glad of the chance for a change of scene. We
set out suddenly and somewhat secretly. I did
not even see Mr. J udkin before goin . Myaunt
insisted that our journey must be kept secret,
and I did not oppose her.”
“ That was very strange.”
“ Wasn’t it? She had her object. I have ne-
ver yet found out what. Except that she want-
ed me out of the way for reasons of her own.
“fell. we went. It was a long journe . All the
way to the center of Ohio. And a. by stage-
coach. and wagon, and canal, and horseback.
But I enjoyed it all. Well, we reached at length
a small Ohio town, where Miss Perkins had
friends living. I then found out her business.
Part of it, at least. It seemed my father had
owned land out there. My aunt wanted to sell
that and put the money where it would bring
more interest.”
“ You don’t find fault with that?”
“ Don’t interru t me.” she cried, with affected
peevishness. “ ell. she came back after three
months. But she left me there. She gave good
reasons for it. Some danger threatened me. I
must keep out of sight till I was past twenty.
I did not trouble much about that. I liked the
town, and the people, and readily consented to
stay.1 ’My aunt’s friends were very agreeable
e.
“ id Mr. J udkin know where you were?”
“ No. My aunt strictly warned me not to
write to anybody in Philadelphia except herself.
For three ears I obeyed her. I was perfectly
content. hen I began to get tired of Ohio life
and longed to come back to the city. I wrote
requesting her to let me come, and received a
severe answer, saying that the interests involved
in my stay were too great to be im riled by a
girlish whim. I must stay where fans for at
east 9. year more. That letter made me angry,
Mr. Prince. I thought I was being treated too
much like a child, and that a fairy stor of a
mystery was got up to keep me quiet. I gan
to distrust my aunt, and to think that she had
some reason of her own for keeping me out of
the way. I concluded to write to my cousin,
Mrs. ”Wells, the lady that I am staying with
now.
Hal listened to this story with great interest.
He thought he saw some daylight through it,
but he was by no means sure.
“ Was Mrs. Wells one of your Childhood’s
friends?” he asked.

“ No. I knew very little about her. She liv-

ed out of the city until recently. We are very
good friends now, though.
“ Well, I wrote to her, and got an answer that
made me distrust Miss Perkins more than ever.
Mrs. Wells invited me cordiallyto come to the
city and make my home with her. And she
gave me such an account of the gayeties of the
city that I grew eager to return.

“But I continued a. little fearful. Miss Per~
kins had made an impression on me. I was
fifraid of some disaster if I should disobey

cr.

“ Go on. It is very interesting,” said Hal, as
she paused in her story.

“ Well. the next thing was a letter from Mr.
Judkin.” v

“ Ah! There’s where Judkin steps in again.”

“ I had more than one letter from Mr. Jud-
lliin. ,,In fact, I had quite a correspondence with

im.

“ Have vou kept them?”

“ No. He asked me to burn them, and I did.
There may possibly be one of them among my
pa .rs.

“ Why did he want them burned?”

“ They were about matters that he said it was

 

not best to leave on paper.”

“ That looks suspicious.”

“It didn’t seem so to me.
me a good many interesting things.”

“ What were they?”

“ He gave me the reason why I had been tak-

Mr. J udkin told

father loft

on from Philadelphia. It seems in
any know—

a much larger estate than I ha
ledge of.

“ He left it in charge of Miss Perkins and Pat
Lyon, the locksmith, as executors. That was
the first I eVer heard of Mr. Lyon.”

“ So that’s Pat Lyon’s first entrance on the
stage?”

“ These executors. he said; Were trying to
cheat me out of my property. I had always
been made to believe t at it was small. He said
it was their plan to keep me away until it was
all settled, give me a small portion, and pocket
the balance.

“ And he declared that they would take good
care to keep me from returning to the city at
any time soon.”

“ What else did he say?”

“That I must return. That my interests de—
manded it. He was working against the schemes
of my enemies, but could do nothing decided
without having me on the ground. But my re-
turn must be as secret as my departure.”

" For what reason?”

“ He gave two good reasons. In the first
place, he wanted to let them go on until they
had reached a point in their villainy that would
bring them into the power of the law. Then I
must be ready to appear and blast their
schemes.

“ In the next place, if they knew I was in the
city, they would stop at no means to dispose of
me. They would not let the life of a little girl
stop them in their road to fortune, he hinted.”

‘ I wish you had kept that letter,” murmured
Hal.

“ Does it not seem as if he was right?” broke
out May. hastily. “ It was agreed that my re—
sidence with Mrs. Wells should be kept a com—
plete secret.

“ And yet, in the short time I have been in the
city, my libert , and perhaps mylife, have been
three times in danger. Vl'hat am I to think of
that? You. as you informed me yourself, told
Miss Perkins of my return.”

“ I can understand her behavior now,” re-
marked Hal. “ I thought she acted very
queer.”

“ You live with Mr. Lyon. You must have
told him also. Very well. It turns out just as
I was told. No sooner do they know of my re-
turn than my life is constantly threatened.”

“ You are good at putting this and that to—
gether,” said Hal, with a smile. “ But there is
a point or two you have not considered. In the
first place, Miss Clifford, you were attacked on
your first entrance to the city. Now it was not
till after that that I told MiSs Perkins. Who in
the cit knew of your coming?”

“ No y but r. Judkin and Mrs. Wells,”
she answered, in a tone of surprise.

“ Very well. And since then you have kept

 

quiet, and let no one know where you were
living. I don‘t forget how neatly you ran away
from me,” he laughed. “ How came you out of
doors that time, after night?”

“ I have been taking airings in a close carriage
so nobody could see me. The carriage and
horses were Mrs. IVells’s property. But she
was not using them, so I hired a cone .”

“ Recommended by Mr. J udkin ll”

“ Yes,” she faintly replied. “ That day I had
been to Mr. Judkin’s countr house, ten miles
out. He made it so agreeab e that it was late
when I set out to return. Some of the harness
broke on the road, so that we lost a great deal
of time, and it was far after dark when we
reached the cit . You know the rest. The
coachman prov a traitor.”

“ He was J udkin’s tool. The whole aflair was
a scheme of Judkin’s.” ‘

“ It looks so,” she faltered. r

“ So was the last, when you went to magnol-
old nurse, in company with a. maidprovid b
Judkin. Theletter you recgived was 3.10
one. lI-haveleon gm nun-now: ,cndthokuo,
wellas more. hodeniecthat over-wrote

an suc letter.”

Hm Clifford grew suddenly pole, and fell
back in her chair in a half fainting condition
These sudden and alarming revelations had been
too much for her. ’

- Halwasonhis feet in an lnstantandrushed
to her nuisance, with a. haste and

rather more than the occasion called for. He
clasped her hand. rubbed her pale temples, called
on her with a pleading tenderness that quickly
replaced the Ballot in the lady’s face with a
mantling blus .

She sat up in her chainand withdrew her
hand from 1118.

“ There. It is over now. You have fright-
ened me.”she murmured, et with a look as if
she was far from displeased at Hal’s tendernes
of_manner. “But what am I to’think of all

my life is that I am heir to a large fortune.
Does not this agree with my previous informa-

" Not quite. The fortune I mean was not left
by your father. And the executors are not
those you have named. Whether you are one of
the heirs or not is another uestion, which can-
not yet be answered. 1 we‘d more information
than you have given me. I fear there is one do—
tail of your life you have left out. If not, then
you are not the heir.”

“ What is that?” she demanded, quickly. “ I
cannot conjecture what you mean.”

" The heir to that estate must have in his or
her possession the family record of the New-
tons. Have you, or have you ever had, such a
document?”

The color vanished again from her face, and
was replaced by a deep pallor. She grew sud-
denl disturbed and agitated.

“ but do you mean? Who has told you of
that?” she demanded, imperious! . -

“ That’s not to the point. ave you it? I
must have an answer, yes or no.”

Her agitation redoubled. Several times she
began to speak. and checked herself. Then she
leaned impulsively forward, laid her hands upon
his arm. and looked in his face with searching
and eloquent eyes.

“ You are my friend? Truly?” she demand—
ed

“ I would die for you,” he replied.

“Then I will tell you all, for I believe and
trust you. I have t at record. You are the
first person I have ever told so. It is the great
secret of my life."

“ Have you it safe?”

( L Y$. ,7

“ Do you know that that is the purpose of
your enemies? It is that record they are after.”

“ But how can they know about it?” she cried,
opening her eyes wide] . “It was given me
secretly by my father. was not to breathe a
word about it till I was past twenty years of
age, and was asked for it by parties who could
show their authority. ”

“ Judkin knew about it,” said Hal.

“Ah! I begin tosee by what a net I have
been surrounded,” she exclaimed, with an invol—
untary shiver. “ What shall I do?”

“ Don’t let Judkin know by any sign that you
mistrust him. He must bekept deceived. He
must get too deep into crime to return or
escape.”

“ And what else?”

“ That record. It is not safe in your hands.
You had better give it to me for safe-keeping.”

“I‘Io, no. Nobody shall have that but my-
self. ’

“ It may be stolen from you.”

“I do not fear that," she answered. with a
smile of confidence. “ It is safely concealed.”

“Have you ever read it? Do you know what
it means?”

“ Yes. It is a record of the descendants 6!
Herbert Newton. who died eighty ears ago. It
is copied from church dockots and attested un-
der oath before court officers. I don’t know its
object.”

“ Who are those descendants?"

“There are two lines of descent. One ended
with my father. I am the only person left in

 

m .m...

 

rson. It is the line of descent from Herbert

ewton’s daughter, who was married b one
John Price, her father’s cousin. I do not ow
if that percon has left any children.”

“ What is his name?”

“ It is a woman. Her name is Ellen Brain-
tree.

“Jupiter!” ejaculated Hal, springing from

his chair, with a face full of astonishment.

“ What is the mattcr?” she exclaimed. “ Is
.‘ anything wrong, Mr. Prince?”

“ I think a bee stung me,” he answered, in
confusion. “ Excuse me, Miss Clifford; I must
go. At once. Don’t breathe a word of what
you have said to Mr. Judkin. Between you and
me I fancy that worthy gentleman is going to
be astonished.”

He was hurrying toward the door, a little too
hastily for politeness.

“But you must explain,” she declared, im-
pulsively. “ You always call out Jupiter when
you hear something surprising. What do you
mean by Jupiti-r? t was that woman’s name
made you spring up. Who is she? “’hat do
you know about her!”

“ Maybe nothing. Maybe a great deal. I
can‘t say a word more now. I want time to act
——and to think. I will see you again soon, and
tell you something interesting. ”

Opening the door. he was off before the sur-
prised young lady had time for another question.

CHAPTER XXI.
THE TRIAL.

IN the week after the events just narrated the
case of the Drover‘s Bank rcrsus Patrick Lyon
was called in the Court of Common Pleas of the
city of Philadelphia. It was a trial which ex-
cith much public interest, and was attended by
a godly number of prominent citizens.

There were various Opinions as to the case.
Many persons were on the side of the bank, and
believed the prisoner guilty. A smaller number
believed him innocent. No trace of any other
robber had been found. And Pat’s success in
opening the vault door convinccd the majority
that he would have no trouble in opening the
much easier bank doors. And it would be no
trouble for him to make a duplicate of the key
with which he had unlocked the vault.

Adding to this the story of the papers found
concealed in the yard of his house. and the pre-
sumption seemed seriously against him. The
fact that these papers had proved to be forgeries
had not been made public.

It is not surprising, then, that when the lock-
smith was put on trial, the great mass of the
dense audience looked upon him as guilty, and
confidently expected a verdict a must him.

As the case was skillfully put y the prosecu-
tion his innocence grew more and more question»
able. The facts were brought out about the
loss of the vault key. the a plication to the lock-
smith, and the strange a ility with which he
had succeeded in picking one of the best-devised
locks ever made.

Other locksmiths Were put on the witness-
stand, and an effort made to show that only a

 

 

man who had specially studied the art of lock-
picking could have had such succes.

We must be pardoned for somewhat briefly
describing the events of this trial. It has but a
side bearing upon our story, and does not need
to be detailed in full. We Will therefore run
over it somewhat rapidly.

The officers who had searched Pat Lyon’s
house were next put upon the stand. Their
poor success in the house was merely touched
on. but great scope was given to their finding
of the papers in the yard.

To prove the character of these pen the
president and cashier of the Drover’s nk were
called to the witnessetand. They both freely
testified that the papers were copies, but de-

clared that the originals were among the papers '

stolen from the bank.

Incmoxnmlmtiontheywm askedif such
copies had been modest  time.
This they pfiflvoly denied. the hidden,

They were not permitted to answer this ques-
tion by their attorney.
give opinions. but facts on] .
President. Hines bore this examination with
his usual steadiness of countenance. There was
not a change in a line of his dignified woe.- The
same cannot besaid for Mr. udkin. He grew
flushed at certain fictitious. But there was a
Whiumph his glanceas be fixed his
eyes on the indignant fare of the prisoner. That
his agent had raved false to him in copying the
pets and hi ° g the copies bowel] know. But
erry Bounce had disappeared, and. so far, as
he knew, there was only one a ntice’s word
30 prove that the originals Jilin found on
my

He was prepared to give Hal Prince 8 severe
cross-examination, and try to prove that he
himself had copied’the papers and hidden the
copies, and that the only treachery in the case
was his treachery to his master.

It was his object to show that the produc-
‘on of the originals was an after scheme de~
vised between the locksmith and his ap ren~
tice,~ and that the disappearance of erry
Bounce was their work. 6 had been got out
of the way so that he could not disprove the
’prentice’s testimony,

It was a very we devised Inn to getout of
an awkward predicament. nfortunatel for
its success, the‘ sharp cashier did not ow
all the circumstances. He was destined to
have his eyes 0 ned before the trial ended.

The case of t e prosecution ended with this
testimony, and the defense opened.

The somewhat excited and indignant look
with which the risoner had listened to the
case as so far con ucted, was changed fora com-
posed and confident air-as his own sharp-looking
counsel rose to address the court.

Those of the audience who had their eyes fixed
on his face saw that there was somethin in the
wind and turned with new interest to t e legal
argument. -

It was a short one. The opening portion of
the case for the prosecution was passed over
with a few satirical words.

No evidence would be offered in rebuttal. for
there was nothing to rebut, declared the law-
yer. It had only been proved that the lock-
smith was a skilled artisan in his trade, and
there was no law to send a man to prison for
knowing his business.

If there were such a law. the gentlemen on the
other side of the case had nothing to be afraid
of, he satirically hinted. They would never be
sent to prison for knowing their business.

The whole case hinged on a single point, he
said—that of the concealed papers.

He expectui to prove that his client had noth—
ing to do with concealing those papers. He was
going to try to show that a base conspiracy had
been devised to send his client to prison, and to
screen the real criminals.

If this could be proved the accused must be de—
clared innocent. There ‘was not another shad-
0w of doubt against him.

The officers who had searched Pat Lyon’s
house were again put on the stand. The only
questions asked them were in relation to certain
scratches on the fence leading to the yard in
which the papers had been found.

They testified to finding fresh scratches,which
might have been made by somebody climbing
the fence.

No trace of footsteps had been discovered.
But the ground was hard and dry. It could not
have taken the track of a foot.

Alderman Jones was next called.

He testified to receiving the papers from the
apprentice of the accused prisoner. Those found
buried were already in his possession.

He had sent for Messrs. Hines and Judkin,
who had declared that these new-found papers
were the originals, and that the former ones
were forged copies.

He declared also that they did not know his
object in asking these questions, but that he had
sprung the thing on them.

to the

 

that line. The other line also ends in a single

The two bank officers were recalled
stand and asked to decide between the papers

 

 

 

must ve been a often-tho  
YE..th what  What objectoould‘ ‘
the thief have to by concealmg‘ cognac, r of
stchndocumenbi -

 

They were notthere to '

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

   

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