ewes THE N EW YORK WEEKLY. S322 wo. om,

 

 

 

“Tt’s so deep that the tide can’t wash it out, and yet
the tide’ll level it off so smooth that no one’ll ever
know as there ever was @ grave dug there.”

* “Tt is too late, then,” said Bascom, dropping into a
seat. ‘‘Well, there’s no need of whining over it now,
only it’s a rather serious thing to be compelled to
shed blood, and this might have been spared.”

“What d’ye mean, captain?” cried Ajax, with sud-
den eagerness. ‘Didn’t I have your orders to make
way with the ‘kit?”

“Yes, yes; you did no more than right, Ajax; only
I was hasty and at fault. I saw two of those London
runners at the hotel, and, from what I heard, made
sure that they would be down here, with a lot of
American cops at their back, within twenty-four
hours. But I was misinformed. The’re on the wrong
scent, and will set out for the West to-morrow. As
soon as I made sure I hired a horse and galloped here
to stop you. But as it is too late, let it go. Perhaps
it is for the best.”

“Do you mean to say, Bascom, as how it would be
better if this job hadn’t been done ?”’

“Certainly; the danger is over, and we would still
have the chance for the rewards.”

Ajax drew a long breath, and laughed.

“Make your minds easy, then,” said he.
Was never done.”

“ee at?”

“The ‘kit’—little Reggy—is as alive now as he ever

was.”

Nancy Binks looked up with a lightened face, and
Bascom, without any further explanation, appeared
to be greatly relieved; but the old ruffian, Jerry,
said, angrily:

“What did ye mean by pratin’ of graves, and ail
that sort of trash, you precious young Villain ?”

“My heart misgave me,” said Ajax, returning the
angry look with interest, and addressing the others
rather than his step-father. ‘‘You may sneerif you
choose, an’ say it wasn’t the first time I took a hand
in that sort of game, but I don’t care. I dug the hole,
the ‘kit’ all the time lookin’ on an’ makin’ childish
remarks, you know, an’ when I got through, I told
him to look down at the clams. Then, as he stooped
over and glinted down all curious-like, I whirled up
the spade to make one job of it with a fair lick at the
back of his skull. But he looked so small an’ help-
less, and the yellow curls looked so shinin’ an’ pretty
on his little head, that all on a sudden I grew as weak
as a cat, an’—an’’—turning fiercely upon Jerry—
“blast your muddy eyes, you heartless old villain! I
didn’t hit him, but told him to git up an’ help me fill
in the hole agin. He’s stowed away ina cave up
there among the rocks, an’ I promised to bring him
soine supper. That’s all, Put it in your pipes an’
smoke it!”

Without heeding the lightened expression on his
mother’s face or the effect of his words upon the
others, Ajax, having thus defiantly delivered him-
self, drew a stool up to the table and began uncere-
moniously to partake of the coarse but wholesome
food with which it was now loaded. Bascom fol-
lowed his example, apparently well satisfied with the
turn affairs had taken, though eating more fas-
tidiously, being, perhaps, used to better fare at the
hotels in the neighboring city. But Jerry still seemed
to brood over what he was pleased to term the
chicken-heartedness of his step-son, and kept mutter
ing to himself, ‘‘An’ has it come fur to be said as ’ow
one of my kith an’ kin has gone back on a job as was

uare put up, an’ all fur want of a honest man’s
pluck ?’ and other ruminations of a like nature, until
Ajax threatened to thrash him and throw him out of
the window if he did not hold his tongue, when he
gradually quieted down, and shuffled up to his-sup-
per. Pretty soon he even warmed into conversa-
tion.

“What is the nature of the new ‘kit,’ Mr. Bascom,
which Ajax says you’ave in view to-morrer?”’ said
he, at length.

“It’s a four or five-year-old, aud the pet of some
swell folks who live ina big house beyond the Col-
lege elins,” said Bascom, smiling. ‘I saw him with
his mother to-day on State street, and my fingers
really itched to get hold of him.”

“Name, station, pedigree, an’ all that ’ere, if you

.please, Mr. Bascom.”

“The ‘kit’s’ name is Harley Cross, and his father is
called Judge Cross. He belongs to one of the oldest
families in Connecticut; has got more money than
he knows what to do with, and is bound to come
down heavy if we only succeed in running off and
secreting the ‘kit.’ I’m calculating on two thousand
pounds, at least.”

“An’ what is the plans, Mr. Bascom, if a” umble in-
diwidual like me may venture to inquire?” said Jerry,
with mock obsequiousness.

“Hasn’t Ajax told you? If everything turns out
right, he and I are to run off the young one in the
light wagon, first taking him to the other cabin at
Sachem’s Head, whither you and Nancy will have to
remove in the sail-boat to-morrow.”

“TI wasn’t lookin’ fur to remove my household so
suddenly, an’ on sich short notice,” said Jerry, queru-

. lously. ‘

“Tp vill be no trouble at all,” said Nancy, promptly.

“The job

“The other cabin is furnished as well as this, and |

we'll have few sticks to take away with us after we've

locked the door behind us.” ‘

“’Old your jaw!” cried Jerry, furiously, and strik-
ing the table with his fist. ““Who’s the master of this
’ouse, you or me, Nancy Binks ?”’

He was cut short in his drunken rage by the strong
hand of Ajax upon his collar, and his helpmeet
laughed mockingly as he was unceremoniously
thrown into a corner by his hopeful step-son.

“Stop your row!” exclaimed Bascom, suddenly
springing to his feet. ‘“The cabin is watched. I could
have sworn I saw a man pass by the window just
now.’ ’

Ajax instantly bent forward in a listening attitude ;
Naney began to clear off the table, and Bascom
threw himself upon a bench in a negligent fashion.

The next instant there was a loud knock at the
door, and, without waiting for an answer to the sum-
mons, a keen-eyed, sharp-nosed, foxy-faced man en-
tered, followed by two stout fellows wearing the
badges of State constables. _ ;

_ Bascom regarded them with well-simulated sur-
rise; Nancy Binks looked up indignant, and Ajax
emanded what they meant by breaking into honest

folks’ houses in that way. :

“You must excuse us, my good people,” said the

first-comer, with mock politeness; “but we are in
search of a stolen child, Reginald Milroy by name,
who was decoyed from his homein England about a
ear ago. We have reason to suspect that you have

im in your custody.”

“What child is he talking about?’ said Ajax, turn-
ing to his mother.

“How should I know, my dear?”

“Maybe he means you, Ajax,” said Bascom, with a
smile. ‘ ‘You’vye grown wonderfully during the past

ear.”

a Jerry gave a hoarse laugh from the folds of the

coarse towel with which at that moment he chanced

to be mopping his face. ‘

The manner of their reception evidently discon-
certed the officers not a little.

“In your passage to,this country you had a boy
with you about the age of the one we are in search
of—say seven or eight years,” said the detective.

Nancy Binks turned her head, put her apronto her
eyes. and burst into tears.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself fur to tor-
ment a poor woman in that ere style,” said Jerry.

“The young ’un you prate of was my little brother,”’
-said Ajax, with a scowl. “He’s but a few months
dead. [’ll show you his grave on the beach, if you
care to see it.” i

This was a masterly stroke, on the part of Ajax,
though a bold one, inasmuch as it would account

- for the former presence of the boy to those who might

have seen him with the Binks family.

The officer scratched his head.

“We must search the house,” said he.

“Search, and be blowed!’’ was the ungracious re-
sponse. i s

The search was made, but of course Without avail.

“There must be some unrortunate mistake here,
my good men,” said Bascom, very suavely, when the
officers had returned, discomfited, to the main room.
“T know these people to be poor, but honest.”

“T fancy I’ve seen you more than once before,”
said the detective, fixing his piercing eyes upon him.

“Like enough, since I never practice concealment,”
was the cool reply. “I have seen you. more than
once in the office of the New Haven House, where I
am stopping at present, though I was unaware of
the nature of your vocation.”

“Perhaps I’ve also seen you in Charley Bradley’s
bar-room ?”’ said the detective, ‘gunning’ him again
with his sharp eyes. f

“Yes, orin Pickett’s, or in walking on Chapel street,
or like enough in ascore of different places in New
Haven,” was the yawning response. ‘And perhaps

ou now wonder at finding me in such quarters as

hese ?”

“Tt does seem sing’lar,” said the other, who had
clearly mistaken his vocation, and would have filled
a more useful sphere as keeper of an idiot asylum
than as a detective policeman. -

“T will condescend to explain,’ said Bascom, with
a wave of his hand. “I happened to know these
worthy people in England, where they were at one
time dependents of my family.. They being in most
unfortunete circumstances, have found me out and
solicited my aid in assisting them to return to the
old country. We Englishmen never desert a fellow-
countryman in distress. I wish you would be satisfied
and skip. You have interrupted our consultations.”

The detective again scratched his head.

“T knowed we was on the wrong scent,” impatiently
whispered one of his followers.

In a few minutes they had taken their departure,
and Ajax stood guard outside, to make sure that they

lingered not in the neighborhood of the cabin.

“They won’treturn,’ said Bascom, laughing. ‘Gad!

we played them off finely.”

“But what an escape!” said Jerry, triumphantly.

“Better put the ‘kit’ out of the way say I.”

“No,” said Bascom; ‘better to thank our stars for
the fortunate accident that placed him out of sight
at ea ee moment. I’m glad that he was not

‘illed.

“And I,” said Namey, who had dried her fictitious
tears with eet suddenness, as soon as the of-

 ficers had vanished. ‘

Presently Ajax came in, and, making a bundle of

 

some provisions and wraps, set out to take them to
little Reginald.

“The poor little wretch!” said he, on his return.
“T found him jist where I left him, an’ cryin’ as if
he’d bust. But he’s better now. I told him to come
to the hut at daybreak, when you’d take him in the
boat to the other cabin.”

“Everything shall be ready by daybreak,” said
Nancy.

“That is right,” said Bascom. ‘In the meantime
we shall have to defer our operations for a day or
two, Ajax. You come up to town to-morrow aiter-
noon, and see how the land lies. You'll find me at
Charley Bradley’s, or at Pickett’s.
help me put that horse of mine in the buggy; theyll
be looking for him in the livery stable by this time.’

‘“‘Aren’t you. goin’ to leave us suthin’ before you go,
Master Bascom ?”’ said Jerry.

“Here are a few dollars,” said Bascom, counting
out some greenbacks and placing them, notin Jerry’s,
but in Nancy’s hands. ‘I wish it was more, but the
cards haven’t gone right lately, and they’ve a new-
comer at the hotel who can match me at billiards.”

In a few minutes thereafter Bascom was driving
pe ‘oe dark and narrow road that led through the
cliffs.

“Superintend everything, and let there be no mis-
take, Ajax,” he called out, leanmg over the back of
thé buggy.

“Make your mind easy, Mr* Bascom,” was the as-
suring reply.

CHAPTER III.
THE ABDUCTION OF HARLEY CROSS.

On the afternoon of a cloudy day, about a week
after the events narrated, two men were driving
leisurely through the city of New Haven in a light
wagon, drawn by an ill-conditioned-looking horse,
which nevertheless appeared as if he might have
some ‘‘go” in him upon an emergency.

In their present disguise of false whiskers, rough
clothing, and slouched hats, it would have been difti-
cult to recognize in these men our acquaintances,
Bascom and Ajax, but they were the same.

It was in the later spring. The magnificent elms,
for which New Haven is so justly noted, were in full
leaf; the fruit trees that overtopped a garden wall
here and there, were massed with blossoms, and the
air was warm and pleasant.

The men drove through State and Chapel streets at
a brisk pace, but went slower as they entered the
lower part of the latter thoroughfare, where the bus-
iness character begins to give way to fine residences
and spacious gardens, and, as they passed into the
long, broad avenue that leads along the Yale College
grounds, at the edge of which groups of children, gen-
erally accompanied by their nurses, were at play here
and there, with afew older pedestrians sauntering
among the trees, they narrowly scrutinized the walks,
at times almost bringing their horse to a stand-still.

“T’ve seen him at play with his little brother fifty
times on days like this,’’ muttered Bascom, carefully
scanning the groups. ‘It may be we shall find ’em
farther up, nearer their father’s house—the lonelier
the better.”

“Tt’s a bold stroke, Bascom, this snatchin’ up of a
‘kit’ in broad daylight, and in a crowded town,” said
his companion.

“Don’t you see that inits very boldness the security
rests? People are entirely off their guard; and we
must do no violence—simply entice the lad into the
wagon. Hush! By Jove! there they are!”

They were now skirting a much more secluded part
of the grounds, and observed two children of about
five and three years old respectively, who were gam-
boling near the road. The absence of their nurse was
explained by a vision of that young person, who was
being made love to, at a eonsiderable distance away,
by a good-looking young fellow, who might have
pee a discharged soldier, or a policeman in civilian’s

ress.

“Which is Harley—which the ‘kit’? whispered

jax.

“The older, to be sure; the little one is Willie, his
brother.”

“Why not nab the smaller of the two?’

“That delicate little doll! How long would he live
on our hands? You talk like afool. Hush!’

The children paused in their play and looked on
with childish curiosity as the wagon drew up along-
side the walk. ;

“Well, Harley, my little man, you and your little
brother are looking in fine trim to-day,” said Bascom,
in soft, wheedling tones.

“How do you know my name ?” said the older child,
a pretty, dark-eyed little fellow, who spoke with a
gravity and distinctness that was strange in one of
his years. : _

“On account of your looking so much like your
father, the great Judge Cross, who is a particular
friend of mine, my dear. I’m going to take dinner
with him this evening.”

“Yes, my papa is a great judge; everybody loves
my papa and my mamma, too; said the little fellow,

evidently highly pleased. »

“Wouldn’t you like to come and take a bit of a
ride?” said Bascom.

“Oh, yes,’ said Harley, springing forward; when
he was at once lifted in and placed between the two
men.

“Me want to doe, too,” cried the other child, run-
ning up, and stretching out his hands.

“No; wait till we come back with Harley, and then
we'll give you a ride too,” said Bascom, while Ajax
whipped up.

‘Turn down the lane to the right; it will never do
to pass the house,” he added; and, as they turned
into a narrow and comparatively secluded lane, the
horse was put to his utmost speed, which was by no
means a tardy gait.

“What do you go so fast for?’ said the little victim,
in his grave, odd way. ‘And you haven’t told me
what your name is.”

“My name is—well, they call me the captain some-
times; and we’re driving fast because we’re in a
hurry.”

“And what is this mannie’s name?” turning to
Ajax.

“T ain’t got none, they forgot to christen me,” said
Ajax, with a broad grin from under his false whis-
kers, and whipping up the horse afresh.

‘Here, my little man, try on this pretty coat,” said
Bascom, drawing a linen duster and a small slouched
hat from under the seat. ‘“‘And see how nice this
new hat will look on you.”

“Tt’s not near so pretty a coat as the jacket I’ve
got on, and the hat is too big—it will hide my face,”
said Harley; but he made no objection as he was
hastily vested in the voluminous habiliments, evi-
dently thinking it was a joke, and appeared to be
highly pleased with his ride. But presently he said:
We've ridden too far; I must go home now, please,

”?

“Wait till we come to astore where I can buy you
some candy and cakes.”

They did come to an isolated shop of all wares, and,
while Bascom held the,lines, Ajax went in, and pres-
ently returned with some cheap candy and ginger-
bread, when they went on again.

“Why don’t you turn back?’ demanded the child.

“We will bring you back by another road, said Bas-
com, more brusquely than he had yet spoken, for he
looked upon the prize as almost secured. ‘Eat your
cake and candy.”

“T won’t; it ain’t good, ’'m not used to that sort,”
said the wise little fellow, tossing the sweets con-
temptuously into the road.

“Oh, ho! you’re not, are you? Perhaps you'll see
the time when you’) be glad to get a good deal worse,
my little bantam. Doesn’t he carry it bravely
Ajax?’

“A reg’lar swell, an’ with his feathers growing,”
said Ajax. x

“T want to go home!” cried the child, vaguely
alarmed at the change of tone on the part of his
kidnappers. “I only came for a bit of a ride. “I don’t
like this ugly wagon; I always ride with mamma in
our carriage.”

“Tt’s time you were learnin’ how poorer folks ride,”
said Ajax, grufily.

They had now left the city far behind, and were
driving through ragged breadths of timber and half-
cultivated fields.

“Let me out! I want to go home!” screamed little
Harley Cross, beginning to cry bitterly.

“Be quiet!” said Bascom, roughly.

But Harley, now thoroughly territied, only screamed
the louder. The next instant Bascom had him in his
arms and was pressing a hankerchief over his mouth.

But the cries had been heard by two laborers at
work in a field near by, and they came running
out into the road, one of them clutching the horse
by the bridle, stopping the wagon, and the other—a
huge-fisted, honest-looking fellow—coming up to
Ajax’s side and demanding, in a threatening voice:

“What was you doin’ to that young’un to make him
squeal, mister?’ J

“Nothing; he’s sick, and wouldn’t take the medi-
cine his father ordered him,” said Ajax, cautiously
changing the reins from his right to his left hand,
and with pretended carelessness winding the lash of
his short, thick whip about the knuckles of his right
hand.

“Ts that the sort of medicine you give him—a hand-
kerchief stuffed down his throat?’ demanded the
man, frowning. ‘It may be you're stealin’ the boy.”

“Don’t trust in appearances,” said Ajax ; and, with-
out warning, he dealt the interloper a tremendous
blow upon the temple with the butt of his loaded
whip, which dropped him senseless in his tracks ; and
giving the horse a cut almost simultaneously, he sent
the other laborer reeling back into the road, and
ore nae his way as fast as the animal could be
urged.

“ey fancy we’ve stopped them blokes from prying
into other people’s aftairs for a time at least,” said
he, laughing, and turning, with an oath, to his com-
panion.

“Yes, but the encounter may prove to have been
an unfortunate one for us,” said the other. ‘But we
will pursue the original programme. See! the chloro-
form has worked well. The ‘kit’ sleeps.”

“Good! we'll be at the Meriden station in an hour,
when I’ll take charge of him as agreed. Hold the
lines, Mr. Bascom, while I take off some of this
beard.” ,

Bascom did so, after dati ow! the stolen ehild,
now entirely unconscious, in the bed of the wagon,

Now suppose you"

’
which was plentifully provided with clean straw,

and Ajax, after divesting all but his chin and upper
lip of the false beard, and turning his coat inside out,
wonderfully altered the features of his disguise,
while at the same time still remaining very different
from his natural appearance.

The wagon halted at the outskirts of the town.

“Now, give me the ‘kit,’ said Ajax, jumping down.
“T remember your instructions, and will follow them
to the letter.”

Without a word Bascom handed down the uncon-
scious child, bundled as he was in the linen duster
and heavy hat. Ajax took the burden in his strong
arms as lightly asif he were a kitten, and merely
nodding to his comrade, strode on into the town and
toward the railway station.

Bascom turned his horse and retraced his way.
When he had reached a point some distance from
the town, he drove into a wood beside a dashing
brook, where, by a few changes in his face and
head, he effected a metamorphosis in himself even
greater than Ajax had undergone, inasmuch as he
restored himself entirely to his natural appearance.

Then, taking the horse out of wagon and harness,
he hitched him to a tree, and, taking a stiff broom
from the wagon, proceeded, with the assistance of
the near-flowing waters, to wash and scrub down the
animal at his ease. The change effected in the horse
by this process was even greater and more extraordi-
nary than had been wrought in either of his masters.
From a miserable piebald brute, with dirty, irregular
patches of bay and sorrel distributed over a dingy
gray ground, like water-colored continents and
islands on a schoolboy’s map of the universe, the
fraudulent steed was gradually transformed into a
sleek, light-gray animal of unimpeachable soundness,
worthy of a circuit justice’s turnout for a county
court day; while a little dexterous manipulation
also changed the wagon into a vehicle of entirely
different appearance from its original one.

When Bascom again drove out into the road, after
having effected these alterations and pretty well
satisfied with himself, the afternoon was far ad-
vanced toward evening. He had not gone far before
he encounted a number of men in a two-horse wagon,
among whom he was at no loss to recognize the two
laborers whose interference had cost them so pain-
fully. They were driving furiously, and only drew
up to make inquiries respecting their assailants—
“two rough, bearded men, with a little boy wrapped
- a linen duster and a big hat,’ as they described

em.

Bascom at once fell into their excitement. ‘Yes,
he had met and noted them, just beyond Meriden;
had turned back to look after them, and saw them
turn to the west and take the Naugatuck road. The
men had excited his suspicions at once.”

The pursuers were delighted. They knew a short-
ay. to Naugatuck, and would be sure to intercept
them.

“The cowardly villains! we’l] nab ’em yet!” cried
they; and turning their horses’ heads, they drove
rapidly in the opposite direction, Bascom following
at his leisure, and laughing in his sleeve at the readi-
ness with which they had taken the bait.

He continued on the return road until he reached
the outskirts of the town of Durham, at nine o’clock,
when,_he turned off into a rough and little frequented
road leading due south, intending to pursue it with-
out a halt, though he was tired and hungry, to
Sachem’s Head, a distance of eighteen miles.

To return to Ajax and his charge, around whom the
greater interest of course more naturally gathers,
upon leaving his comrade, he strode rapidly through
the streets of Meriden, carrying the unconscious
child very carefully and tenderly, and frequently
looking into the little face with an appearance of the
utmost solicitude.

Having to wait a few minutes for the Hartford
way train at the station, at which a number of pas-
sengers were assembled, and a couple of old ladies
happening to take an interest in the child he car-
ried, Ajax took the opportunity to expatiate upon a
pathetic fiction in the hearing of a number of by-
standers. The little one was his only brother, who
had been passing some weeks with an aunt in the
country, in the-hope of benefiting him for certain
disorders to which he had been subject from infancy,
but without avail, and now he was bearing him back
to his home in Windham, where he could die, if so
Heaven willed it,in his mother’s arms; and the lip
of Ajax quivered at the conclusion of his little story,
and he turned away his head from his sympathizing
listeners, as if to hide the weakness of a few tears,
thereby exciting as much sympathy in his own behalf
as in that of the kidnapped child.

But when the train drew up to the platform, he
took care to select a seat in a car containing the
fewest passengers. He had a bottle of chloroform
and a handkerchief at hand, with which to continue
the unconsciousness of his charge should the boy
awake and become troublesome or noisy.

The programme pursued by Ajax had been ar-
ranged beforehand. From Hartford he was to go to
Windham, and thence to New London, whence he
was to hire or steal a boat and make his way to the
cabin at Sachem’s Head, which was even more re-
motely isolated than the hut of the child-stealers to
which the reader*has already been introduced, and
whose very existence was but little known upon the
coast.

He changed ears for Windham at Hartford, and
was fortunate enough to secure a seat ina carin
which there was byt one other passenger, an old
woman, who proved to be as deaf as & post, as he
ascertained by a number of ingenious experiments,
it being one of his rules to find out all about his
neighbors as'soon and as secretly as possible.

The train was delayed over an hour, and, after
starting, had not gone far before little Harley Cross
showed signs of awakening, and soon, opening his
eyes, began to ery at the top of his lungs, and beg to
be taken home, when his fond protector clapped the
saturated liandkerchief over his mouth at once. Just
then the conductér came through to collect the
tickets, when Ajax volunteered much the same
statement concerning the child’s condition which he
had made at the Meriden station. The conductor,
who appeared sleepy and out of humor, was so little
interested that he hardly listened in patience, but
passed through the car to those in front.

Harley continued to make low*moans, and Ajax at
intervals continued to apply the handkerchief, when |
he gradually became aware that a pair of piercing
eyes were bent suspiciously upon him, and, looking
up, perceived that they belonged to a third passen-
ger, who had entered the car without being observed,
and occupied a bench facing him not many seats off.

Ajax was vaguely conscious of having encountered
those eyes. before, but exactly where or when he
could not just at the moment determine, for it re-
quired but one of his experienced glances to see that
the new-comer was, like himself, disguised, being
heavily bearded and roughly clad. Ajax had never
had any self-respect to lose, and, if he had evey nat-
urally possessed any conscience or moral principle,
his training had long since compelled him to part
with both; but. there was one thing he never lost—
his presence of mind; and he was, moreover, of in-
vincible nerve and couragé. He saw in the stranger’s
penetrating glance “Danger,” as plainly as ever
skater marked it placarded upon the treacherous
portion of a skating pond; and, laying his burden
upon the seat at his side, quietly awaited develop-
ments.

They were not long in coming.

The stranger suddenly shifted his seat to one di-
rectly opposite and facing Ajax, and, bending his
head and glance obtrusively forward, said, in low,
incisive tones:

“Strikes me I’ve seed you afore, young man, though
you wasn’t sd@neatly disguised as now. Strikes me
you’re the young man I seed in the cabin on the
shore, with your father an’ mother an’ that billiard
swell, when he was lookin’ for a lost or stolen child
from Lunnun, eh?’

Ajax saw that boldness was his surest card. He
‘knew that the conductor would not again traverse
the car before reaching Windham, a distance of over
twenty miles; that he would have an uninterrupted
field (the deaf old lady having gone fast asleep) in

sase of a passage at arms, and he measured the
speaker from head to foot, as he coolly replied:

“You are right, and I now see that you are that
skunk of a detective who forced his way into our
cabin. Suppose you now mind your owr affairs, by
way of a change.” a :

“You folks was goin’ back to England, if I heerd
aright,” said the detective, drawing nearer. ‘An’
maybe this be your little dead brother as has come to
life agin.” © res

“They have gone to New York for the purpose of
taking passage for England, an’ this ain’t my little
brother, but my nevyy or grandchild, whichever you
please,” said Ajax, with a scowl. “Once more I bid
you mind your own affairs.”

“T don’t know about that,” said the other, drawing
still nearer, and looking as if about to spring. ‘‘Peo-
ple as is suspected of bein’ child-stealers should be
looked arter when they’ve got little ’uns in charge.”

Now, the fact of the detective being upon the
train was simply an accident, or strange coincidence,
and had nothing to do with the abduction of the
previous day, of which he was totally ignorant; but
Ajax did not know this, and he was at once deter-
mined to take desperate chances. With him the in-
terval between determination and action rarely ex-
ceeded a dozen seconds.

As the detective bent menacingly forward, Ajax
suddenly rose to his feet and dealt him a tremendous
blow between the eyes with all the force and skill of
a trained pugilist (Ajax had fought for money at
English fair-booths from his boyhood), and followed
it up by another one on the point of the jaw, as the
first blow staggered the recipient against the seat
behind him.

Though taken by surprise, and almost completely
stunned, the English detective was a cool card, and
he recovered himself in an instant, while a revolver
glistened in his hand as if by magic. But Ajax was
game—though having the Englishman’s natural hor-
ror of concealed weapons—and seizing his wrist, he
gave the arm a twist which wrung from the owner a
ery of pain, and in an instant possessed himself of
the pistol and thrust itin his pocket. The next mo-
ment the two men had each gther by the throat, and
were surging up and down the aisle of the speeding
and oscillating car, striving for the mastery, and
fighting like demons,

 

 

 

®

hope of arousing the old lady, but of course his op-
ponent had reason to know that that wouldn’t work,
and, to make matters sure, wound his left hand in
the detective’s cravat, half strangling him, while
with the other he rained blow after blow upon his
head and face; his antagonist, though a strong man,
returnihg the punishment with but slight interest, as
he knew comparatively little of sparring.

Still Ajax had all he could do, and presently both
men tripped and went down between the seats, roll-
ing over and over each other, growling, snarling,
and grinding their teeth like infuriated bull-dogs.

But presently Ajax got the upper hand, and by a
| fortunate blow caused his opponent to loosen his
| hold and fall back temporarily exhausted; and be-
{ fore he could recover he tore the revolver from
| his pocket and dealt him a tremendous stroke on
the temple with the heavy butt, which stretched
him out apparently lifeless.

“T hope I haven’t done for him,” muttered the young
man, returning the pistol to his pocket, and breathing
hard after his desperate struggles. ‘No,’ he added,
examining the contusion on the temple, and thrust-
ing his hand into the breast of the senseless man;
ae only an ugly bruise, an’ the heart beats reg-
ular. .

He arose, looked about him through the badly light-
ed car, and determined upon his next move, as if by
inspiration.

There was a closet at one end of the car, and to
drag the prostrate man into this was the work of a
moment. Here he took off the cravat and tied the
arms behind the back at the elbow. He then divest-
ed the silent face of its enormous false beard, stuffed
it in the mouth as a gag, and secured it by a hand-
kerchief tied tightly at the back of the head.

He then took some twine which he chanced to have
by him, and secured the legs at the knees and ankles,
and putting the victim’s head in an easy position so
as to facilitate his heavy breathing, he went out into
the car again, closing the closet door behind him.

‘“*T think he’ll do for the present,’ he muttered, go-
ing back to his seat, to pass a few minutes in thought,
and the recovery of his breath and strength.

He had barely resumed his seat before the condue-
tor came through again, and Ajax, pulling up his coat
lappets to hide the disorder of his dress, was at once
as cool as though nothing had happened, though he
was filled with alarm lest the closet door would be
opened.

“T thought a passenger came in here at the last
station,” said thé conductor, looking surprised.

“So there was,” said Ajax; “but we had no sooner
started than he seemed to have forgotten something,
and ran back, and jumped off the rear platform. I
remember, because I had to get up to close the door
after him.”

The conductor passed on, grumbling. The heart of
Ajax was in his mouth from fear that he would look
into the closet as he passed it. But, no; he passed
on.

Ajax took up the littie boy in his arms, and went
out upon the front platform.

The cars were going at the rate of say fifteen miles
an hour. There was no moon, but enough starlight
to enable him to dimly distinguish the road that sped
beneath, and the fleeting woods or fields on either
side. It was a desperate chance, but his only one,
since arrest and imprisonment certainly awaited him
should he go on to his original destination.

He went down the steps on the off side of the car,
held his burden to his breast with his. right hand,
grasped the railing with his left, and, clenching his
teeth and bracing himself well backward, suddenly
sprang out into the darkness and the unknown.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

 

[THIS STORY WILL NOT BE PUBLISHED IN BOOK-FORM. ]

VAN,
The Government Detective:

THE BASE-METAL COINERS.

By the Author of ‘‘Old Sleuth,”

“The American Monte Cristo,” “Old Sleuth, the
Detective,” “Night Scenes in New York,”
“Old Sleuth’s Triumph,” “Tron
Burgess,” “The Shadow
Detective,” etc., etc.

_ [“VAN, THE GOVERNMENT DETECTIVE” was commenced
in No. 33. Back numbers can be obtained of all News
Agents. ]

CHAPTER XXIII.
ANOTHER MYSTERY,

“RS. PEASE was ushered in-

to the building, the outer
court of which gives no
indication of the ghastly
sights to be seen inside.

The ladies were led by

the keeper to the room
where, upon the marble
slab, lay the body of the
girl who had been taken
from the ferry-slip.

As the elder lady cast one
glance upon the horrid object, a cry fell from her
lips, and she would have fallen to the paved floo1
had not the ever-ready keeper of the morgue caught

her in his arms. The younger lady showed more

nerve and firmness, and the moment her aunt showed
signs of returning consciousness, she ordered the
keeper to take her outside the building.

The young girl advanced and made a close examina-
tion of the body.

In the meantime Van, the detective, had remained
in the coach, and when Mrs. Pease was brought out,
he assisted her to a seat in the carriage.

‘“‘Where is the other lady ?”’ asked the detective.

“She is a game’un,”’ answered the keeper. ‘She
is examining the corpse; and, indeed, it’s a horrid
sight, and I don’t wonder that yonder lady fainted
as she did.”

Ten minutes passed, and the niece came forth.
Her face was pale, and her eyes wore a set look.
The detective met her at the door, and uttered the
word which is so often used to embody a whole sen-
tence of inquiry:

“Well ?””

In a low, hushed voice the young lady said:

“Do not tell aunt now.”

“You recognized the body?’

“¥ Gid.*?

“Ts it the body of Miss Herndon?’

“It is.”

The detective led the young lady to the carriage,
and the whole party were driven back to Mrs. Pease’s
house.

Van took the young lady into the parlor. and when
alone with her, questioned her closely.

Not a word had been spoken connected with the
sad affair during the drive from the morgue.

“You positively identified the body?’ asked the de-
tective, when alone with the niece.

1 did.??

“Are the features well preserved ?”’

A shadow came over the young lady’s face. It
whitened to a deathly paleness as she answered:

saa assassin never intended the body to be recog-
nized.

‘What leads you to such a conclusion?’
“The once beautiful face has been deliberately dis-
figured beyond all possibility of recognition.”

“And the clothing ?’

“There is another mystery.”

‘What is the mystery there ?’

“The clothing appears to have been changed.”

“Aha! the body was not clad as when you saw her
leaving the house 2?”

“The hat was the one worn by Miss Herndon when
I last saw her alive; but the dress was not the same,
unless the action of the water has changed its ap-
pearance beyond recognition.”

“You are positive about the hat?’

“T am.”

“What other sign did you observe ?”’

“The teeth. Miss Herndon had a certain tooth
filled in a peculiar manner.”

“And you discovered that tooth with the peculiar
filling ?”

“T did.”

“You must have made a very close examination.”

‘tl gid,”

“What other marks of identification did you find ?”’

“The hair.”

“Ah! that was the best mark of identification, I
reckon, after all.”

“No; I recognized the hands, the shape of the
head, the size, the general graceful contour of the
form, which has not been changed, as life was ex-
tinct, undoubtedly, when the body was‘cast into the
water.”

“Did you see the satchel ?”’

£59 nels”

“And recognized it?’

‘Yes, sir.”

“You are satisfied then, beyond all peradventure,
that it was the body of Miss Herndon?”

“T am as positive as it is possible for me to be.”

 

The detective shouted at the top of his voice, in the

 

The detective sat lost in thought for a few seconds,
when the young lady said: ‘

“Will you claim the body at once ?”’

4N 6.7

‘Why not?’

4 “T am not assured that it is the body of Miss Hern-
on.

The young lady looked surprised, and exclaimed :

“Do you doubt the correctness of my observa-
tions ?”

ia,”

“Tiken you may feel assured beyond all question
that it is the body of Miss Herndon.”

“It is the result of your examination that causes
eo ee that after all it is not Miss Herndon’s

ody.

“T do not understand you, sir.”

_ “We will talk further after I have made an exam-
ination.”

“Why did you not accompany me in to see the
body ?””

“T will tell you why. I wished that you or Mrs.
Pease should take the first view, and, after I had se-
cured the benefit of your observations, I proposed to
gomyself. Already your examination and comments
serve as a guide to me, and I will be able to make a
more thorough examination. I will not go as a
searcher, to gain impressions. I will go to disprove
what you have discovered, andin so doing will be
led to a deeper, more thorough, and exhaustive ex-
amination.”

_The detective had given certain private instrue-
tions to the keeper of the morgue, with whom he was
acquainted, and it was after nightfall when he pro-
ceeded to view the body.

CHAPTER XXIV.
STILL AT SEA.

Van had said that he began to doubt that the body
at the morgue was that of Miss Herndon.

A faint hope had risen in his mind that it might
yet be demonstrated, despite the strange coincidences,

‘that it was the corpse of some other unfortunate wo-

man.

The most prominent evidences indicated that the
body was that of Miss Herndon; but on the other
hand, one little fact, seemingly of insignificant im-
portance, shadowed all the other testimony.

Mrs. Pease’s niece had been positive that Miss
Herndon had not carried her music-satchel, and Mrs.
Pease was equally as positive that the missing girl
had said that she was not going to give any lessons
thatday. Again, the fact of Miss Herndon’s absence
having followed the visit of the vailed woman was
evidence that she would not carry her music-satchel.
And further, the fact that the body found was that of
a murdered person destroyed all the suggestiveness
and significance of the note left to Mrs. Pease as it
had been at first interpreted. ‘

The acute-minded detective weighed all these faets,
and set them over against the incidents that pointed
toward an identification of the body.

Van's first question addressed to the keeper was:
4 ranve you had any people to view the body to-

ay?

“Yes, sir, fifty.”

We willnot comment upon the suggestiveness of the
keeper’s answer.

“What particular visitor?’

“Well, she came,” said the keeper, and a cunning
look glinted over his face.

“She came, eh?’

“Yes, sir, dead sure.’

“At what hour ?”’

“Just after dinner.”

“Alone ?”

Yes, sir.”

“You recognized her ?””

“Yes, sir; but she was wnder cover.
coming quite a detective.”

“She was under cover ?”

“Sure.”

“Then you may be mistaken.”

“Nary a mistake.”

“What was her disguise ?’’

“She came as an old woman, with spectacles, and
it was funny how I came to ferret her out.”

“Tell me the funny part of it.”

“Well, just after ten o’clock an old woman, plainly
dressed, came here and asked to see the body of the
young music teacher.”

“Did you suspect her at once ?”

“IT did not. Ishowed her in to the slab, and there
were several people looking at it, and I was looking
among them forthe one you told me to make for
when I noticed a strange thing.”

“What did you notice ?”’

“T noticed that the old woman whom [ had admitted
last was looking at the corpse, not through, but over
her spectacles, with as bright a pair of eyes as ever
glanced from a young woman’s head.”

The detective smiled his approval of the keeper’s
keen observation, as he inquired :

“What did you do?’

“Well, I kept my eye upon her for awhile, and I was
soon confirmed in my idea that it was a young wo-
man in the garb of an old one.”

“Did you make sure ?”” :

“Indeed Idid. I waited about, and then said t
her: ‘Would you like to look at some of the articles
that belonged to the young woman?” and she said
she would. SoIjustled herinto my private office,
and, when I’d closed the door, Isays to her: ‘Mad-
am, what brings you here in disguise? Well, sir,
if ye had seen how excited she was, and how pale
she grew in face, as she started for the door! ‘Hold,
on, madam,’ says I. ‘How dare you insult me in
this manner?’ said she—whenI just said. ‘Do you
mind, madam, the young girl in there was murdered ?
‘I know nothing about her,’ said she. ‘Did you recog- *
nize the body ? [ asked. ‘I did not,’ came the answer.
‘You never saw the young lady in life? ‘Never.’
‘Well, madam, it’s strange you would come here in
disguise,’ says I; and she answered. ‘I did not come
to see the body of the young lady, at all,’ and with
that she bounced out of the room—although it was
the young lady’s body she asked to see when she
same to the door.”

The story of the morgue-keeper was a sad blow
~ rr hopes that had found room in the detective’s

eart. ‘

He had put the keeper on the watch for a certain
visitor, and at the same time fondly hoped that the
watch would prove a failure. €

The visit of the disguised woman made it a certain
probability that, after all, the body would prove to
be that of Miss Herndon. °

Yan was shown at length into the room. No one
was present, and no one was to be admitted until he
came forth.

The detective made a most thorough and minute
examination. The face, as Mrs. Pease’s niece had
said, was mutilated beyond recognition, and the iden- ¢
tifying marks were the more closely scanned.

The detective remained alone with the ghastly
relic for nearly an hour, and when he came forth, he
was met by the keeper, who asked :

“Have you placed it?’

In a strange tone, Van said:

“Tf the body is not claimed, you can let it go to
Potter’s Field, for all we——”

“Aha! it’s that way, sir?’

OSs

Van passed out, and the wise morgue-keeper re-
marked to himself:

“It’s a deep man, that. He's going to catch the
murderers at the grave.

On the following morning, Van appeared once more
at the residence of Mrs. Pease.

The latter lady had a hundred questions to pro-
pound.

Van asked for the niece, and, when that young lady
appeared, he said:

“Did you ever see the satchel Miss Herndon car-
ried ?”’

“Yes, sir.”

“How long had she owned it?’

“Over a year.”

“You are sure ?”

‘Yes, sir.”

“She did not buy a new one lately ?”

“No, sir.”

“You are sure about that ?”’

“ey am.”

“You are certain as to the dress Miss Herndon wore
when you saw her last?”

“T am,”’

A smile came to our hero’s face, and, in answer to
Mrs. Pease’s question, he said:

* “We will begin a search for the living Miss Hern-
on.’

Indeed I’m be-

CHAPTER XXY.
VAN MAKES A DISCOVERY.

Van, as our readers will observe had come to the
conclusion that Miss Herndon still lived. Here were
circumstances strongly pointing toward another con-
clusion, but the detective had weighed the matter
well, and had determined, as indicated by his remark,
to search for the living Miss Herndon,

There was one fact he pondered over for some
time.

At first he could not explain the motive of Kate
Hammond in going to the morgue to view the body.

It may have been, as he reasoned, that the Ham-
mond woman had been governed by motives of cu-
riosity alone.

The accounts published in the papers, giving a des-
cription of the dead girl, in many respects accorded
with’ the personal appearance of Miss Herndon,
Kate Hammond, as the detective again reasoned,
may have observed the strange similarity, and may
have been governed by curiosity.

Of one thing our hero felt assured, the Hammond
woman had been interested in the abduction of the
missing girl, and it became his first object to identity
the mysterious visitor who had called at Mrs. Pease’s
house, just preceding Miss Herndon’s appearance

For two days following the incidents recorded, the
detective kept himself busy without having encoun
tered any incidents worth recording.

On the third day, Van made a most remarkable
discovery, and at once had a basis whereon to build
a theory. He had been watching the Hammond
house. The fact that all the blinds were closed and
no sign of life perceptible, did not deceive him, and