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' ~“‘A” Numb??-  1N WILLIAM STREET. mew 'YOIIK. 5 Cents- ' “’“K’ ‘

Tom Tanner, Scalawagelgificepegmeewrflhe Black Sheep of the Fleck.

BY CHARLES MORRIS,

AL‘THUH 01w “ BOB ROCKETT, THE BANK RUNNER,” “ 1301; nocxm'r, THE BOY DODGER,” “WILL wunrnm,” “ mmx PAUL," me, me.

   

FRANK. WITH TITS FAVE FIJIJTJ OF CONUERN‘ HA1) SPRUNH 1""_()‘I IYIH POST, AND WAS NOW TRYING TO DRAG BACK THE YUl'NG S\VAGH.

 

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegrace.

 

Tom Tanner,

Scalawag and Scapegrace;

on,
'Ihe Black Sheep of the Flock.

in" CHARLES MORRIS,
AU’l‘Ilul’. or “ non :zonkirr'r.” “ ruin) IIALYARI),”
“wua. wnanvnnc,“ "SilADOWi-Jll,” “DARK
PAUL,” "iJArliiIXH one," are, ETC.

 

 

 

CliAi’l’iuR I.
A Row AND A DISCHARGE.

IT was a bountiful day outside, and it seemed
bar-l to be confined among whirling wheels and
rattling iimchincs, in a close, smoky and grimy
room, while a ray of sunshine hardly dared to
cmcr, for fear it might be scich upon by those
iron fingers and '.-.rou;.;ht into some unheard-70f
shay ic.

Yet this room was full of men and boys, who
gave scarcely a thought to the sunshine, so busy
were they chr their work. Like hungry crea-
tures the machines greedin devoured t 9 iron
plates that were rapidly fed to them, and let
them fall again in a shower of useful forms.
And the workmen themselves seemed machines,
so steady and regular were all their movements.

Not all, however. In a corner of the room
were two boys, very much alike in face, but
very different in their habits. One was quietly
and .stcadily feeding the narrow iron plates
to his machine, with the regularity of clock—
work. The other was leaning lazily against the
wall, with his elbow on the window-sill, and

looking wisti‘ully out into the neighboring
emu-v.
"(there’s no use talkin’,”he growled. “I’m

down Lii‘t'li cl" this old shcbang. I’ve got the
lug-ya: mill-d] out to discharge the boss and
inum- 2320"" ”

" ‘ ' ‘ better 51 Ink to your work,” the other

1. fi -
boy (flictiy leplinl. "All the work you do
u o ~a. . njrt you, .42.: you’ve got plenty of time
to p 1'}?

-' 0“: you cry up. Frank. You’re always
pr -.".c lin'. i wasn’t. never got up for hard
uoiic, Kill I ain’t goin’ to hang round here,
'an'iplng ou.. storl pc‘ s, iorall the bosses as was
tVUi litlil‘i 0”.”

"lies ., Tom! Get back to your machine.
llcl'e- con'ics Mr. Martin. There’li be a row if
he hnds you loalin 'r here.”

“ ltow be frizzlct !" answered Tom, recklessly,
“ "pose I keer fer old Joe Martin? I won't
take much of his slack, you bet on that.”

“Come, Come, Tom! We’ve got to make a
living. you know, and help our father and
mother.”

“Dunno as I’ve got to do nothin’ of the
sort,” snarled Tom. “ They ought to be keepin’
me, ’stead of me keepin’ them.

Frank looked uneasily around at the stern-
faced foreman who was close at hand. The
quick_cycs of the latter had noticed a machine
standing idle, and they now caught sight of
Tom Tanner leaning lazily against the wall.

“Hillo, there!” he cried, sharply. “What’s
looso, boy? Anything bu’sted about your
machine: ’

“ There’s somethin’ bu’stcd ’bout me," an-
swercd Tom, with a saucy look. “ The old con-
cern’s right enough, I s’pose. It’s me that's
sick of it; ’tain’t it that’s sick of me.”

“ Sic lwre, Tom Tanner,” said the foreman,
in a tone of decision. “ I’ve had enough of this.
Get back to your work now, or, hang me, .if I
don’t carry you back by the ears!”

Tom returned an angry look, but he knew the
man he had to deal with, and he slowly raised
himself.

“ CHHIC, look alive, there! Stir up, will you,
Mr. SIoW-go—easy!” ‘

Frank noLiCcd a wicked flash come into his
brother’s eyes, and hastened to say, in a. mild
tone:

“ You’d better mind llIl‘. Martin, Tom.”

Tom’s husl y temper flamed out at this.

“ I ain’t no dog for old Joe Martin to kick,”
he growled, “ And I don’t want none of your
slack, neither.”
flush of anger slmwcd itself in Mr. Martin’s
face. In -an instant he had carried out his
threatof taking the boy by the ears, and was
dragging him along the room.

“Come on, Smarty,” he cried. “We’ll see
if old J 0.» Martin isn’t boss here.”
“ Let go of me!” roared Tom.

‘* Not much. Not till I take some oi: the im-
pwlencc out of you.”

 

 

But be counted too much on his own strength.
In an instant the boy turned, and ferociously ,
buried his sharp teeth in the man’s arm. The l
latter, with a cry of pain, released him, and l
struck him a blow that leveled him to the floor. 1

But Tom was quick as a cat. The next in—
stant he was upon his hands and knees, and had ‘
sunk his teeth in the forcman’s leg, with a fierce
bite that made him ycll with agony.

Frank, with his face full of concern, had
sprung from his post, and was now trying to
drag back the young savage.

“Don’t hurt him, Mr. Martin,” be appealed.
“ Oh, don’t hurt himl Let me; I will quiet him.
You were too hard on him, you know.”

He tugged away as he spoke, and dragged
Tom loose from his foe.

A harsh oath broke from the man’s lips.
Headless of this appeal, he dealt Tom a violent
blow that knocked him prostrate. Burning with
rage, he ran forward, and raised his foot with
the intent to bring his heavy boot down upon
the helpless boy.

“Don’t do that!” cried Frank, respectfully,
but decidedly, pushing between the combat-
ants. “He is my brother, Mr. Martin. You
must not hurt him.”

“Get out, you young viper!” snarled the
foreman, endeavoring to push him away.

“ o, no,” answered Frank, keeping his place.
“ Ohl won’t you let him go this time, Mr. Mar-
tin? He won’t be saucy again.”

“No, drat him!” growled the foreman, as he

caught Frank’s shoulder and gave him a fierce
"er .
J Frank was a well-built and well-grown boy,
and he resisted this effort, a look of anger com—
ing into his earnest face. The infuriated forc-
man doubled his fist to strike lim. The blow
fell, but was parried by the lad, though he
made no effort to return it. His face had
grown [film Lut it was very earnest and dc-
cided. 1‘. Martin, beside himself with rage,
again raised his heavy fist. Frank looked up-
pealingly into his face, but made no cflfort to
avoid the blow. His quiet devotion to his idle
brother should have touched his antagonist,
but the rage of the latter blinded him to it.

“ Don’t strike him, Mr. Martin,” respectfully
appealed one of the workmen. “Thrash the
other one as much as you want, but this boy
has done nothing.”

“ He has no business to meddle,” rejoined the
foreman, as he caught Frank by the shculdcr
and drew back his heavy fist. “ I won‘t have
any boy bosscs about here.”

ran stood firm and unmoving, though he
fully expected that burly list would be dashed
the next minute into his face. But there was
an unexpected diversion. During this short
colloquy Tom had struggled to his feet, and
rasped an iron tool that lay on the floor near
1m.

Mr. Martin’s blow never fcll. Ere he could
slrike, Tom leaped forward, and brought down
the clan erous wea on with stunning force upon
this thong. He fell £0 the floor as if he had been

0 .

This aflray, long as it takes to describe it,
had lasted but a minute or two, rnd the work-
men, who were flockin'g to the scene, had not
had time to interfere. '

“ Make tracks, Frank!” cried Tom. “We’ve
raised thunder now, for certain. Follow me.
Don’t stand there dreamin' like a blasted fool,
as you always was!”

rank seemed indeed dazed, and made no
effort to move. ‘

“Catch the young hound!” exclaimed one of
the group of workmen who had. now gatlzci-«d.
“Don’t let him escape! Ila may have killed.
Mr. Martini Catch him l”

But it is not easy to catch a weasel. W'ith a
shrill laugh of defiance the agile youth sprung
at the window against which he had been. stand-
ing. The sash was raised only about a foot,
but through this narrow opening hcsanhke a
lizard, squirmin through and dropping like an
india-rubber bal to the ground outside before
an of the men could reach him.

Xnothcr defiant laugh came from the boy as
he showed his face for a moment at the win-
dow.

“He , Frank!” he shouted. "Yul blamed
little 001, why don’t you run? Old Joe ’11
scorch your back well if e get’s a chairs, now
you bet. Serve you right, too.”

J

 

Some of the men ran in .210 window, but it i
was only to see the 95,143 young, rogue running ,
like a deer down the ‘tcet, while he turned i
now and t 51‘. to make gestures of disdain to- .
ward the Zactory.

It was a striking group which remained with-
in the rocm. On the floor lay the inecnsiblc

1 some alarm.

 

 

foreman, the blood slowly reddening his hair,
from the wound he had received. Near him
stood Frank’s erect figure, the disheveled hair
falling over his pale and earnest face. L It so l y
was the group of workmen, some angrily ii-
gurding him; others with looks of sympathy.
And regardless of all this the whcols um! hrs : 4
rattled and tliroblucd, rourcd in (l clni kid, v )1“
a double vigor now that they “'(rc iL‘llL‘VL‘tl
from work.

“Snatch the other one!" cried a workman.
“They have killed Mr. Marlin between ilnin."

“ No, no,” replied unothcr. “This boy l>lmh
to blame. Everybody l.no\\ s be is the best boy
in the rllop.”

“ xccp a stiff uppcr lip, Frank,” \\'llli~])l-‘l‘((l
one of the boys who had approached him. " ALi
us boys think it served old Martin right.”

“ Take him to the oflicc," snggi stu: an inlgl i-
gent-looking workman. “Lct Mr. Wilson dc-
cide. And some of you look after Marlin. lie
is only stunncd. He is two tllick-skullcd to 
easily hurt!"

This suggestion was at once carried out. Two
of the men led the unresisting lad toward ti 0
office, while others examined the condition t‘.‘
the prostrate foreman.

It was soon evident he had received only a
scalp wound, and a deep groan, as they lurmd
him over, gave signs of returning animation.

An indignation meeting was meanwhile bcing
held among the he '5. None of them con} i
hear Tom, but Fran was ai'avorite with than
all, and they were rather glad to think that old
Martin had been paid oil' for some long icon :3
of their own.

“I move we strike if they 'do anything to
Frank Tanner,” proposed one. “He’s just the
primest fellow out.” ’

“ Suppose they discharge him ?”

“ But it ain’t his fault, and they ain’t got no
business to ship him. I move we strike ag’.n‘
that too.”

“ S‘posc he discharges hissclf, how then?"
asked another. “if a chap asks for his own
\vallgin’ papers, I calculate that’s his own look-

“ W'cll—ycs. It sort of looks that wr y.”

“ Hey, boys! Old Martin is coming to. Law-
see! didn’t he catch it!”

This was a new matter of interest, and the
boys broke up their meeting to gloat Oin' the
downfall of their foe.

Meanwhile Frank had been taken to the cf-
fice, and now stood before Mr. Wilson, the [To-
prietor of the establishment.

This was a middle-aged gentleman with .‘l
quick, nervous manner, and a ccitain SteI‘L'IlC‘L‘S
olz' countenance.

,He had heard the stor * of the affray, 5111
turned sharply upon Frank with the remaik:

“Well, sir, what is this i hear! I call this
pretty behavior in a workshop. The whole
place set by the cars and one of my fCl‘CILLZl
with his brains nearly knocked out. New, sir,
what excuse have you for all this?”

“It wasn’t I that did it,” rejoined Frank, ix: .1
respectful tone. “ He tried to kick my brother
Tom, and I was only trying to 8170f him.”

“ Your brother Tc ml :1 pretty young ran :21
he is, too—at the bouom of half the mischief in
the shop. 119 ought to have bcen kicked 1.;
long ago.”

“ Excuse n 0, Mr. Wilson,” replied Frank.
“ He is a little wild, I know; but he isn’t such a
bad boy.”

“ An incorrigible little villain,” persisted M r.
\Vilson. “It’s had blood, I’m afraid. I d; 1.";
know that I (ucht to keep you, either.”

“ I haven’t asked ycu to kup me,” blurted out
Frank, the hot blood rising into his cheeks. ” If
we do work for you, Mr. Wilson, we’re not
slaves {r LOLS. Yin law no iighttoinsult n: ;
and, as for discharging me, you won’t have the
trouble.”

“ All right, my 10y. But if you leave in its:
way, I will take care that you get no work In
an other pcn factory in the city.”

K hot reply ros: in Frank’s lips, but he “1.;
prevented {loin speaking by the entrance of
some or the men with the wounded foreman Le-
twcen them. Tl"? latter was a sorry ObjE'L t,
with his ‘7." covered 2'. 3th stains of Cloth i
blood mild a mm"; woe-begone e xpression of 021;.-
tenanm

“Good heavens, man 1” cried Mr. Wilson i.i
“ Are you badly hurt?"

“The young wreuh knocked me down witl. .9.
monke -Wrrnch.” growled the wounded man.
“ But don’t calculate that I‘m much the worse
for it. And this little viper here—”

“Now there’s enough of that,” cried Frank,
hotly. “You shall not call me such names if
you were as big as all out of doors. Everybody

A—x n A!“ -.~._.._._g.. -AM ....a. k.“ ‘ __ . ‘ -

 

4.

l.

.. *.-.‘ ....a~_.s_h____-—. A--.

.gLn.

 

 

 

 

jg’l‘om Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegrace. 3

i

 

is wrong but you, of course. Everybody always
is. But I’ve a notion that if Mr. Wilson knew
all that the men think of you, he. might change
his Opinion. That’s all; but I’m no more a Viper
than you are.”

A IO’lk of" astonishment came upon the fore-
man‘s face at this unhioked-l'or plain speaking.
With an angry oath he stepped forward,

“There, there, Martin!” cried Mr. Wilson,
an'hornai iv-ly. “ That will do. We will let
the quarrel rest there, for I do not know but
that the boy has some reason in what he says.”

Mr. Martin stepped back considerably abashcd
by t :is decisiVe command.

“ l ow, Mr. Wilson, if you will pay me off I
will leave,” said Frank quietly.

“No, no, there’s no occasion for that, my
boy,” re ,ilied Mr. Wilson, in a more kindly
tone. “5 fancy you are not so much in fault.
You can go back to your work.”

“ Thank you,” rejoined Frank, “ but not in a
shop where that man is foreman. You can’t
spare him, I suppose; but you can spare me. So
you VVII! please pay me off, sir.”

In five minutes more Frank stepped into the
street, a boy without an occupation.

CHAPTER II.
A LITTLE DOMESTIC DISFICULTY.

THE Tanner f .mily did not live on Fifth AV-
enue. They were not quite so high-toned as
that. It is true their mansion was an extensive
one, but it was a little too extensive for them,
so they kindly let about a hundred other fain-
iliesoccupy portions of it. It was, in fact, a
tenement case, in which they thought them-
selves rich to occupy two rooms, and these not
very spacious, nor very luxuriously furnished.

A very plain table, three or four hard-backrd
chairs, a dilapidated cooking stove, and a be;-
garly array of cracked dishes and rusty pans,
formed nearly the whole of the Tanner house-
hold treasures. There were some efforts at
adornment. A row of pictures, cut from the
weekly papers, were tacked to the walls, but
these ran more to horse races and pugilistic en-
counters than to high art. In the window were
a few sickly flowers, growing in broken jars.
And on a shelf in one corner were a half-dozen
books. So it was evident that there were some
in that household with a taste for art, nature,
and literature.

The inmates of the room comprised Tom Tan-
ner, whom we have already seen, and his father
and mother, together with a bony rat-terrier
dog, and a sleepy old cat.

Mr. Tanner, senior, was not an attractive
specimen of humanity. He had evidently been
too fond of the extract of old rye, and it had
left a ripe blossom on his aristocratic nose. He
must have been quarrelsome, too, when in his
cups, for one of his eyes was now in deep
Sioulrning, and there was an ugly cut on bisun--

er ip. ‘

Mrs. Tanner was a little, mild-faced, uiet
body, with a look as if her life had been a rd
one. Her whole comfort in life had been in her
son Frank. As for Tom he was only half
brother to Frank, for Mr. Tanner had been
married twice, and the older boy had quite a
different mother from this mild little woman.

“It’s tootconfounded rirlik’lous,” the father
was saying, as he rocked himsolf uneaSily upon

one of the chairs. “ I’ve a mind to wallop that
boy Frank. Blame his ugly pictur’, he’s allers
a-makin’ trouble. And me a-workin’ my fingers’
ends ed? to keep the ongrateful little willian in
Vittles and clothes.”

I It was one of the romances of Mr. Tanner’s
life that he was a very industrious member of the
working classes. But the truth was he wrestled
With the whisky bottle more than with the
blacksmith’s hammer and ton rs.

"I couldn’t help it,” broke in Tom, who was
sprawling at full length on the floor. “ He just
always gits me discharged. I we ii’t a-goin’ to
kick up no row with old Martin; but Frank, he
had to put in his jaw, and the first thing you
, know, dad, there was the skippiest old mill,

Martin salted me on the lip, and then he guv
me a pcrsuader over the eye. But Frank. he
never gits hurt. He’s jist death at stirrin’ up
fights, and warpin’ me into them. But he looks
out fur his pretty face, you but.”

“ h es, the ongratcful young hound l” and Mr.
Tanner wiped his eyes as if affected to tears.
“I’ve the hlamedest notion to wallop him. I
s’pose he’ll jist walk back to his work like a
cur, arter gerting my poor boy Toni into trouble.
He never had no sperm.”

“ He has spii it enough,” broke in Mrs.
Tanner, who had been fuming during this talk.
“ But he knows we have to live, and poor folks
have a great deal to put up with.”

 

 

“Shut up, woman!” snarled her husband.
“He ain’t got no sperit, I say. Look at my
boy Tom, here. Nobody don’t crow over him.”

“Nor his father either,” was the little
woman’s stinging retort. “You are both of
you very ready for an excuse to get out of
work.”

It was not often that she was stung to a sharp
answer. Mr. Tanner looked at her in amazo—
inent. Tom, who had been annoying the cat,
now got up, and whistling for the dog, left the,
room. He did lint like domestic scenes, par-
ticularly where his industry was called in
question.

Mr. Tanner stopped rocking his chair, and
cast a inaiidlin look toward his wife.

" Yer allcrs at it,” he growled. “ Yer allers
a-diggin’ at me and Tom. ’titead of symper
thizm’ with me, arterl tumbled off the curb
stone last night and banged my face all up, it’s
jist iiothin’ but growl, g1 owl, growl. I tell you
what wife I’in about tired on ’t.”

“If yoif‘ had been at your work, Jacob
Tanner,” she retorted, “you would not have
been on those slippery curbstones. I am afraid
you fell against some other drunken loafer’s
fist.”

“That’s an insiniwation, woman,” hiccuped
Jacob. “That’s a doused insiniwation. You’ve
been a-heapin’ it on me, and a—pilin’ it on me,
and insiniwatin’ ag’in’ me, and blame me if I’m
a-goin’ to stand it any longer. It’s mighty lit-
tle comfort an honest workin’ man gits outer
sich afamily as I’ve got. You’ve got old Sam
in on, Mrs. Tanner, and it’s ’bout lime he was
too out.”

He rose unsteadin to his feet, with a moist
look in his e 0. His wife retreated into a cor-
ner, and held up her arms feebly in defense.
She knew what was meant when he was so
polite as to call her Mrs. Tanner. If a. tear had
fallen from his water eye she would have
been good for a knock own at least.

“It’s ’bout time to settle who’s the boss of
this vero shanty.” he continued.

“ 1), don’t, Jacob!” she pleaded. “Don’t
strike me! I didn’t mean to aggravate you,
dear. Oh, now don’t!”

“ Ther’s got to be an example, Mrs. Tanner.
It hurts me wuss nor it does you, but Scripture
says as We’ve got to keep peace in the house—
hold, and it says moreover as a grumblin’ wo-
man is wuss nor a scrpent’s tooth. So you see
it’s my Scripture duty to wallop you, Mrs. Tan-

7

“ Oh don’t! Oh!” and the poor woman threw
her apron ovor her face, and cowered down be-
fore that portentous fist.

Her shrill or met ears outside. The door
sharply opene , and a brisk foctstep entered
the room. In an instant there was an alert
movement, and a tall young form pushed itself
between husband and wife.

“You must not, and you shall not, touch
her!” came an earnest cry. “Hit me, father.
Pound me as much as you will. But keep your
hands off of mother.”

It was Frank Tanner who had made his ap-
pearance so opportunely. He stood erect be-
fore his angry parcnt, looking at him not de-
fiantly, but firmly.

“So it’s you, you young scorpion!” snarled
the ti sy father. “ It 3 you that’s come here to
inedd e atwecn husband and wife! Ye ain’t
satcrsficd to git poor Tom licked and set adrift,
but '011 must come here a-mixin’ in. Blaine
me it I ain’t a mind to whale yer rascally hide.”

“Go ahead, father. I can stand it. But
don’t lay your hands on mother.”

\Vith a furious oath the angry man raised his
heavy fist, and drew it back as if with intent to
dash it into the noble young face before him.
But to strike herself and to strike her son were
two different things with Mrs. Tanner. All the
motherly instinct rose in her. With a scream
she threw herself on her husband’s arm, she
dashed her weak hand into his face, she pushed
him violently back, he yielding like a relation
his amazement at this assault. She-drove him
before her until she had pushed him into his
seat, and then stood with panting lips and llam-
ing eyes before him. _ .

‘ You cowardly brute!” she ejaculated, with
a passion unusual with her. “Dare to tom-h
him on your peril! You can get yourself filled
with whiskv, and can come here to abuse wo-
men and children, and that’s all you’re good
for. You have ill treated that poor child ever
since he was a baby, but you shall never lay
hands on him again in my presence.”

The amazed Mr. Tanner looked up with
something of the exprchion of a whipped cur.
Here was an exploSion such as he had never
dreamed of. He had not fancied there could

 

be so much vim in the little woman. His eyes
furtivcly sought her indignant face, and then
stole a glance at his son, who stood motionless
as a statue, though his lips trembled with feel-
ing.

Jacob Tanner was thoroughly cowed. Like
all such doi‘.icstic tyrants he was a coward at
heart, and there was a whimpering sound in his
voice as he again began to speak.

“ I dunno what I’ve done, to kick up sich a
row,” he complained. “Jist you let me alone
and I’ll let you alone, and I‘ve told you that
of’n and ol’n, wife. But lhcr‘ nwer “as no use
talkin’ St‘llSU to a woman.”

Mrs. Tanner looked at him for a moment
with supreme contempt. Then with a sudden
change of expression, and a gush of tears to her
eyes, she turned to her son, and clasped him in
her arms, I'lllllil)” kisses on his face.

“Never mind Tum, Frank. He’s been drink-
ing. He wouldn’t behave so if he was sober,”
she appealed, with a natural instinct to excuse
her husband. “Tell me all about it, my dear
boy. Have you quit your work, like Tom?”

‘I could not help it, mother. I could not
Work under that Mr. Martin, after what hap-
gcped. Sit down and I will tell you all about
1

And be repeated the story which the reader
already knows, while his father, with his head
resting upon the table, rocked himself back-
ward and forward, too much absorbed in his
own domestic woes to attend to the boy’s narra-
tive.

“ Has Tom been home, mother?”

“Yes. He has gone out, with the do .”

“He’s gone to look fur work,” grum led the
father. " Toni ain’t the boy to lay on his oars.
He’s jist b’iliii’ over with industry, is that boy.
He ain’t the idle chap as his ongrateful tro-
ther is, a-gittin’ them both out of work, and
ghen’layin’ adrift and ’specting work to float to

im.

A keen flash shot into Frank’s eyes. But he
restrained himself, and the tone was mild and
respectful in which he spoke to his mother. '

" I must go out again new, mother. I cannot
afford to be idle, you know; as long as—” He
hit his lip and became silent.

“I must get work,” he resumed. “ Maybe I
can et some for Tom, too. But I don’t know.
Wor { isn’t very plenty just now.”

Kissing his mother affectionately he took his
hat and walked out, without a glance at his
ma udlin father.

There was a group of boys in the narrow
street into which Frank emer ed. Tom was in
their midst and was occupied in holding back his
dog, which was eagerly trying to get loose.

‘ Hello, there’s Frank!” Cl‘lCd one of the boys.
“ Come here, Frank. There’s the best fun going.
Bill Bounce has caught a rat in his trap, and
we’re going to let it out and set Gi on it. Oh!
won’t be shake it! Hurry, Fran (, afore the
fan’s over.”

Frank felt something of a boy’s natural im-

ulsc to see a dog shake a rat, but he had more
important business just then, and declined the
invitation.

“ I haVen’t time,” he answered.

“Oh, nonsense! It will only take a minute.”

“Let him go, little stuck-up,” sneered Tom.
“He’s too goody to keer ’tout dogs and rate.
We dont want no Sunday-school cha 5 here.”

“ Very well, Tom,” answered Fran , quietly.
“ I do not think I am any the worse for going to
Sunday-school, and you might be the better for
it. But I guess we Won’t talk about that now."

Frank walked on, whistling cheerfully, per-
haps to drown an answor.

Bat Tom contented himself with a shrug 0t
tl;e shoulders and a meaning gesture toward his
brother that set some of the boys laughing.

“ Fetch along your rat now,”hecried. “Gi- ’s
gittin’ heavy to hold. Come ahead, Bill. it
out of the way there, some of you boys, and
give Mr. Rat a chance. Lively now. This way,
Bill.”

The ragged little urchin who held the trap
took it to the middle. of the street and cautiously
Opened its door, ('i-i 9.»: eyes being fixed on the
movement. The frightened rat drew back and
hesitated about taking the. liberty offered him.
But a shake of the wire trap drove him out, and
at the same instant Tom released the dog.

There was the flash of a small blue body
across the street, the flash of a larger black body
in its wake, a bark, a squeal, and the loud clap.
ping of the boys’ hands.

It was all ovm‘ with the rat. Gip had it in his
sharp teeth and was shaking it violently, while
the boys laughed and shouted as if this was the
best bit of fun in the world.

And while the idle brother was thus employed,

 
   

 

4c

 

the industrious brother was ofi on his long jour-
ney in search of work with all the burden of the
family on his young shoulders.

 

CHAPTER III.
GETTING INTO SITUATIONS.

“ IVANT work, oh?” and Mr. Thompson, of
the firm of Thompson, Clark & Co., looked up
over his spectacles. “ Well, you’re a spruce
looking boy. What are you good for?”

“ I am good to try most any thing,” answered
Frank Tanner respectfully. “ I haven’t done
an work in your line, but I am young and
wi lin . I can learn.”

Mr. honipson shook his head as he continued
to look at the boy.

“ No, my lad,” he said. “ We are not in need
of an students. We cannot take on anybody
that oes not know the business.”

“ But how is anybody to know it, sir, if you
give no one achance to learn?”

“He has you there,” laughed Mr. Clark, look»
in" up for a moment from his account book.
“‘ is the old blood dies out new blood must
come in.”

“ That’s it!” cried Frank eagerly. “ I’m new
blood, and good blood too. Just try me, sir.
and you’ll see if I ain't square up to the mark.”

He looked wistfully at Mr. Thompson, as the
latter silently surveyed him.

“Are you a good eater!” he asked, with a
queer smile.

“ I don’t know,” answered Frank. “ I eat all I
can get, but I don’t often have a chance to eat
all I want.”

“ How much can you lift?”

“I suppose I might fetch up a hundred and
fifty pounds. I’m only a boy yet, you see.”

‘ Can you hit a square blow?”

“I ain t much on the muscle,” replied Frank
modestly. “ I generally get out of the way
when I see a fight coming.”

“ But if you were insulted? If some other
boy were to wipe his feet on you?”

rank’s eyes flushed and his hands involun-
taril clinched.

“ ’m afeard that boy’s house would go
down,” he answered.

Mr. Thompson laughed. He looked comically
across at his partner.

“ The little man has grit in him,” he said.
“ We might give him a chance.”

Frank’s face lighted up at this announce-
ment.

“What is your name?”

“Frank Tanner, sir.”

“Where do you live? But don’t tell me, I’d
be 5111;? to forget. Write it down .on this
pa r.

rank wrote his name and residence in a neat,
round hand, Mr. Thompson looking curiously

n.

“ You write a fair hand,” he remarked.
“What say, Clark? Shall we give the led a
chance to learn the business?”

“ Yes,” rejoined Mr. Clark, glancing up from
the book.

“Thank ou, sir,” said Frank, gratefully.
“ But—” an be hesitated. “ But, sir— I was
goin to ask—”

“ ell? Out with it, boy. What were you
goin to ask?”

“ bout the wages, sir. It wasn’t about the
work. I ain’t afeard of work. But how much
will you pay me?”

Mr. Thompson looked sharply up.

“ Pay, hey? life are going to teach you the
business, boy. That’s pay enough. You’ll be
more trouble than use to us for a year, and we
should charge you something for taking you in
hand. It isn’t much fun licking young cubs into
sha ,” he continued, looking over to Clark.
“ owever, you look like a smart boy, and
we’ll give you a chance. But we can’t pay you
for the first year.”

“ I’m sure I’m much obliged,” answered poor
Frank, in a faltering tone. “But I can’t work
without pay. I‘ve got to help keep my father
and mother, sir, or I wouldn’t care. lVe’re
very r.”

“All right, my lad. That’s very good in
on,” and Mr. T‘ri()iiips4_)ns tone was so benevo
cut that Frank began to hope. “But we do
not do business for charity, and cannot under-
take to keep your father and mother. So I
guess you Will havo to look further.”

Mr. Clark looked quickly up, resting his pen-
handle on his nose.

“ I am Very Sorry—” be an Frank.

“I suppose so,” broke in ' r. Thompson, curt-
ly. “But that’s not business. VVe’ve given
you all the time We can spare, my brisk little

p. Yes and no is business talk. You have

 

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Seapegrace.

said no. And so—” he looked significantly at
the door.

Frank took the hint and walked reluctantly
away, with a very crestfallen look upon his
face. Mr. Thompson turned again to the letter
he had been writing, but Mr. Clark watched the
boy’s sorrowful passage through the store, still
slowly scratching his nose with the end of his
pen. He then turned to his partner, who
seemed to have quite forgotten the boy’s exist—
ence.

“ See here, Thompson ” cried Mr. Clark,
sharply “do you know that you’re confound-
edly co d—blooded?”

“ Hey?” answered Thompson, looking up with
a startled air.

“If you didn’t want the boy, what was the
use of your being so rascally short with him 3”

“ Ohl drop all that, Clark. Don’t you be lug-
ging sentiment into business. What in the sun
have feelings to do in a counting—room?”

Mr. Clark seemed on the point of giving a
sharp answer, but he restrained himself, and
said:

“ Very well. Let us drop sentiment then.
But that was a live boy. It’s my notion he’s
worth taking in hand, even if we have to pay
him. Something could be made of him.”

“ Do you think we’d better make Lyons
Brothers, of Belfast, another offer for those
linens? Is there any money in them?”

A deep frown came upon Mr. Clark’s brow.

“As you please,” he answered shortly and
turned to his accounts. \«

Mr. Thompson quietly picked up the address
which Frank had written for him, thrust it into
his vest pocket, and dashed again into the heart
of his letter.

Meanwhile the subject of their conversation
was walking up Broadway. He turned into
store after store, letting scarcely one pass him.
But it was the same tune in them all. “ Don’t
want anybody.” “ Boys are more plague than
profit.” Or more kindly. “No, my lad, am
spixry’yve have no opening.” Or more curtly.

0.

Whatever the words they all came to the
same. There was no room for Frank Tanner.

Somewhat discouraged he turned into
Chatham street, and wandered along in front
of clothing stores and other retail lines of busi-
ness. Eager salesmen stood outside the doors,
inviting ever shabbily dressed passer, with the
promise of a argain.

“Why couldn’t I do that?” Frank asked him—
self. “ It may not be pleasant, but there’s no
disgrace in it. I suppose they wouldn’t have
boils, though.”

0 had just caught sight of a store, with a
plentiful display of clothing in front, but with-
out a salesman to descant on its merits. The
thought struck him to try in there.

Without hesitation Frank plunged in. The
proprietor, a sallow—faced, hook-nosed fellow,
came briskly forward.

“ Goot-mornin’, my young frient. What can
I do for you this niornin’? I can fit you mit a
nice suit, and very sheep.”

“ I don’t want a suit,’ answered Frank.

“ Well, den, a nice cut—away coat.
come down this way. I fit you right off.”

“ No, no,” cried Frank, escaping from his
hands, as he was proceeding to measure him.
“ I don’t want a. coat. I—I want a job.”

“You vant a job?” and the proprietor fell
back in surprise.

“ Yes,” broke in Frank. “You haven’t any
barker out front. All the other stores have
them. I’m only a boy. I know, but I can talk,
and I’ll come cheap. Just try me, Mr. Franks,
I’ll cam my wages.”

“You’re only a poy? And you’ll eome sheap?
—-Sa , now, how you know my name’s Franks?”

“ saw it on the sign at the door.”

“Very gnot. But I don’t want no barker.
The ain’t no ’count.”

“gust try me. I’ll do my best.”

“ See here, pov,” and Mr. Franks’s nose curled
cunningly. “ You go out dere and i'etch'me
in gustomers. For every one as puys I gives
you ten cents: for every one as don’t puy, I
gives you not’ings. Is dat good?”

“Yes,” cried Frank, eager for anything that
looked like a chance to make money. “ I will
try it.” ~

s 2”

“ £13m, you try.

“ Goot.
front.”

Within ten minutes from the time that Frank
had entered the store he was installed as regular
out-door salesman, and had taken his station up-
on ihe avement, eagerly looking for some one
who might seem as if he needed clothing.

“Jist

Dat’s business. You go right out

 

_., W...

While Frank was thus occupied his idle
brother Tom was otherwise engaged. Gip had
finally disposed of the rat, and the group of young
vagabonds was lounging easily along the street,
seeking some other game to occupy their inquir—
ing minds.

The first bit of fun that came to them was in
the shape of a well dressed child, who was walk-
ing heedfully along with a small pitcher of
milk.

The ragged urchin who had trapped the rat
managed to stumble against this child, and
topple him over into the gutter, the fallen
pitcher spreading a white blotch of milk upon
the pavement.

The boys laughed as if this was the greatest
fun in the world, but Tom Tanner, with a great
show of kindness, picked up the crying child,
and affected to 81111 oth down his muddy Clothes.
Ho then wiped his well-soiled hands over the
little fellow’s face until, what with mud and
tears, he presented a very sorry aspect.

“ Don’t cry, little prelty,”solaced Tom. “It’s
inammy Won’t say nothin’ for breakin’ the old
pitcher. He mustn’t cry.”

The child cried the louder at this.

“There, there, let me wipe its pretty little
(-yes,” and the young rogue managed to close up
both the little fellow’s eyes with a broad plaster
of mud.

His ragged conzpanions stood back against the
houses, laughing loudly at this. One of them
came out to help Tom in the nice sport he was
engaged in. He had taken a double handful of
mud from the gutter, and was slyly approaching
the disconsolate child, when there came a

sudden diverson, in the shape of a boot toe that.

lifted him bodily from the gutter.

' “You young rapscallionsl” roared the man
who had made this assault. “ Hang your ugly
pictures I’ll cool you off.”

He grabbed savagely at Tom, but the latter
was too quick. He stooped and darted like a
rat between the man’s legs, coming up with a
disdainful laugh on the other side.

“Scoot, boys! Scoot l” he cried. “ It’s Joe
Grimes. He’ll skin you if he catches you.”

The group of boys broke asunder like a string
of beads, and darted in every direction, leaving
their assailant to wipe the mud f1 om the child’s

eyes, and solace him in his trouble.

on, after he saw

Tom Tanner lounged lazil _ . I
is accompliCes in

there was to be no pursuit.

mischief had disappeared, and there was no fun a

in practical jokes without some one to do the
laughing, so he quieted down.

“There’s no use talkin’,” he cogitated, as
some new thoughts came to him. "Dad’s not
to be fooled with. He’ll salt me if I don’t strike
somethin’ to do. I don’t see why I can’t keep
on havin’ a good time, like the other boys;
but dad’s a terror when he gits his back
11 Y.” '

1H3 walked on through street after street,
looking lazily around him, and thinking what
he would like best as a steady occupation.

“If I could git to be marker for a billiard
table, now. Or to set up pins in a ten-pin alley.
I expect that fool of a Frank Tanner is huntin’
round for a job like a dog after bones. .If he
gits one, and I don’t, there’ll be a howhn’ old
time. I’ll warp him out of it,that’s all. He
ain’t a-goin’ to discount me.”

“By hockey! there’s the thing, now!” he
cried, slapping his knee. “Queer I didn’t
think of it afore. Bet I discount Frank yet.”

This exclamation arose from his seem be-
fore him an oyster cellar, kept by one red
Jones, according to the Sign. .

Tom plunged down the steps like one well
no uainted with the locality, and presented him-
Svll’ before the raw-boned and blear-eyed pro-

prietor.

“You axed me last week to come round,” ex-
claimc'l Tom. “ Here I am. Here’s yer
oyster.”

“Hey! you scapegrace of the slums, is it
you?” roared the man with a hearty laugh.
“ So ve’r’ here, ch?” and he caught Tom nfi'ec-
tionately by the hair and hauled him forward.
“Lei’s have a look at you. What d’ye
want?” _

“Want a job at h’isting the shells of)? of
oysters,” answered Tam, Wilh a leer. “You
told me you’d put me to work.”

“All right, my little cove; ou’re prime .at
shell h’isting, that’s a fact. ig r1; ht in.
Here’s Mrs. Trim’s kettle from round the cor-
ner. She wants a hundred slap out primGS.
Digin.” .

Within five minutes Tom had his coat off,
was girded with an apron, and was handling
an oyster-knife with the skill of .a professor.

Both the Tanner boys had their jobs.

 

 

 

 

....__-e A...

 

CHAPTER IV.
GETTING our or BITUATIONS.

“THAT’S right, my sons,” and Mr. Tanner,
Sn, affectionately laid his hands on the heads of
his two boys “ Ther’s nothiu’ like bein’ indus-
trious; ’specially in a boy. It sets sich a shinin’
example I'M—ho-”

" To their father,” suggested Mrs. Tanner.

“Snet up, woman!” growled her husband.

“ Yc’r allers a-puttin’ in at the wrong place. It
sets such an example to the babies, as is ii-
comin’ on to be boys, :irter you gets to be men.
Take care of tlie‘babies, and the boys’ll take.
‘carc of theirScchs; that’s Scripture, my sons.
If my work wasn’t so redik’lousmeaii I’d be
sendin’ you both to college, ’cos that’s where
you oughter go. But pr or folks can’t carry out
all their ideas, my sons partik’lar when tliey’s
got a spinein their backs as keeps them from
stiddy labor.

The boys by this time had escaped from his
exuberant ofl'cction, which was laid on a little
too heavily for their appetites.

“ ’Tain’t very high-toned,” continued the
father, sprawling into a chair. “I don’t jist
approve of my boys, as ought to be at college,
barkin’ for a Jew slop-shop and openin’ cysicrs.
But, money’s the main bl‘ucc: jist freeze onto
that. Hand over what you’ve ’arned, Frank.
I’ve got a cruel ti’klin’ in my throat, and must
go and get some opedildock.”

“I won’t get any money before Saturday
night.” answered Frank coldly.

"Saturday night! That’s a nice bargain for
a boy of your talent to make. And me a-brag-
gin’ you up for bizness. I’ll go high Tom isn’t
sich a jack as that. Fork over the needful, Tom.
I’ve got to go to the drug store for a dose of
opedildock, and your mommy wants some pigs’
knuckles for dinner. So she! out.”

" Oh, you 0 to grass, dad,” answered Tom
fretfully. “ ain’t got a red. ’ ,

“Then your no sons of mine, and I disown
you both,” cried the father, drawing his coat
around him with the dignity of a Roman Sen-
ator. “Ye ain’t got the old Tanner blood, or
ye’d never go barkin’ fer a Jew, or o nin’
e sters fer a Jerseyman. I never thong t as
t e family’d come to it.”

He dashed the back of his hand across his
eyes to wipe away some imaginary tears, and
stalked out of the room with as woe-begone an
expression as though he was about to commit
suicide for the honor of the old Tanners. But
if the whole truth of history was known it might
prove that his journey ended in Neil McGrump’s
sam le room, where old Tanner yet had a
sha ow of credit for old rye.

“There’s .no use talking,” said Frank, de-
spondingly. “Father is past mending. There’s
ve little encouragement for us boys to try
an makealiving.”

“Oh! you be bu’stedl” exclaimed Tom, roll-
ing over on the floor. “ You’re always a-pick-
in at dad. If he likes whisky better’n he does
bread, he’s his own boss, I reckon. What‘s the
use of your pitchin’ in?”

“He ought to be working, and keeping his
family respectabl ,”renlied ‘rank.

“ That he blazet ! If I was as old as dad, and
had two lazy boys like you and me, I wouldn’t
work neither. And if they wouldn’t work I’d
wollop them like dad used to wallop us.”

“I wish on’d both hush up,” Mrs. Tanner
querulously roke in. “Boys have no business
to be discussing their father.”

She was a little at a loss which side to take in
the controversy.

“I ain’t a-cussin’ my father,” replied Toni,
taking an extra. roll. “If there’s anybody
a-cussm’ it’s Frank. I freeze onto dad too
much for that.” ,

“Well, I don’t,” exclaimed Frank,decidedlv,
as he set his hat firmly on his head and left the
room. He knew that Tom was only twitting
him to make him angry, and thought it best to
avoid a quarrel.

Early the next day the boys were at their
work, Tom at the oyster cellar, Frank at the
clothing store. The latter had succeeded in
coaxing two or three customers into the shop
on the previous day, and now Went eagerly to
work, hoping to have a good day of it.

Tom, foo, plunged iudustriously into his
work. He had a special admiration for oysters,
and fancied that he Would like to open them by
the year, With the chance of slipping a plump
one occasionally down his throat, when nobody
was looking.

Fred Jones, the roprietor of the establish-
ment, knew somet mg of this propensity in
boys, and shut his eyes, With a quiet smile,
when he saw an occasional oyster slip hastily
down Tom’s greedy throat. He had done the

 

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegraoe.

same thing himself When he was a boy, and had
so sickened himself of oysters in two days’ time,
that he had never liked them since. So he did
not fear that Tom’s appetite would greatly cut
down his profits.

But the greedy boy had no idea that he was
observed, and ovary few minutes, when he
fancied that Fred‘s back was turned, he would
hastily grab up an oyster from its shell, and
stuff it into his mouth, swallowing it at a single
gulp.

Suddenly, after such an evolution, ’l‘om drop—
ped shells and knife, and went spitting and
sputtering around the cellar, making the most
grotesque contortions of face. Fred turned to
him with a great show of surprise.

“ Mine, in bully boy!” he cried. “ VVhat‘s
guv way in ganady now, my lark? Got nipped
by a crab, ls‘pose. Or pinched by an oyster
shell, maybe.”

“It must have been a crab,” acknowledged
Tom, still sputtering.

Fred turned away to hide a smile.

“ IIe swallercd a rotten one, that time,” mut-
tered the veteran. “ They allers do when
they’re in a hurry. I gucss Toni Tanner ’ll git
his fill sooner than the most on them does.”

Tom, in fact, didn’t want any more oysters
just then. He had swallowed, in his haste,
such a very bad one, that he feared he would
never get the taste out of his mouth, and he
went back to his business of filling the custom-
crs’ kettles with a look of disgust upon his ex-
pressive face.

Things went on quietly for a few minutes,
and then there was a new diversion. The serv-
ant girl of Mrs. Trim, for whom Tom had open-
ed a hundred primes the night before, came
hastily into the collar, her face inflamed with
anger.

“ It’s lucky for yerself, Mister Jones,” she
loudly began, “that it’s me, and not the mis-
tress, as is come to see ye this blessed mornin’.
For us, as has been yer best customers more nor
a your; and one might think we was new come-
out’ers, as had niver seen an ’yster, to be put on
so.

“ Blazes! I’Vhat’s up, Mrs. Dclany?” cried
Fred in alarm. “ You didn’t serve none of the
shells up along with the oysters, hey?” .

“ it’s far wuss nor that,” answered the girl,
in a solemn tone. “ And it’s afcared I was the
niistress’d go oil? in a dead fit.”

“ But what, in the name of,all the salt fish of
the Atlantic has bu’stcdé” roared Fred. “ Out
with it, ye long-winded daughter of Erin.
\Vliat’s the row!”

“ The row is bad ’ysters,” answered the girl,
more solemnly than ever. “ Sivan of ’em to the
hundred. Sorry the one less. And they were
rolled up nicely in bread crumbs. and fried as
brown as berries, and never diskivered 'till the
folks put their teeth in them- this mornin’ at
breakfast. And then sich a hellubaloo as there
wasl Ye might ’a’ thought it was all my fault;
and me a-knowin’ no more consarnin’ the
qualities of ’ystcrs nor a. born bah .”

Fred, despite the anger that was upon his
face, could not help a burst of laughter. But
he then turned sharply to Tom, who had thought
it good policy to echo his laugh.

“ So this is your first specimen of work, you
scapcgracel This is the way you serve my best
customers, you suortin’ little sand-bar! And
you think it’s prime fun, do you? Somethin’ to
laugh at, you son of a corporal? Hang me or
a cow’s uncle if l’ni going to have my best
customers sarved with rotten oysters by you,
and be laughed at in the bargain by a red-
necked Jackanapcs! (lit, now!” '

" What?" asked Tom, in surprise.

“ flit. I say! (iit‘s the word!” _

“ You don’t say that you’re agoin’ to giv’ me
my walkin’ papcrsf”

“ Well, I guess that’s about the weight of it.”

“ And for nothin’ except puttin’ a bad oyster
or two in a whole kittle of ’cm?”

“You’ve got the heft of it there, Tom Tanner,
and ihe quicker you make tracks the better it
niought be for your health.”

“ Well, all I’ve got to say is, it’s confounded
shabby.”

“Shabby, hey?” and the furious oystcrmau

. made a spring toward his impudent apprentice.

But Tom wasquicker still. He turned a hand—
spring over the oyster bar and landed on the
floor outside. Safely reaching the steps that led
to the street, he stopped and called back:

“ See here Fred Jones, you’re a good deal too
partik’lar. ain't a-goin’ to work for a feller
that kicks up sech a dust about nOLhin’. It isn’t
my fault if you buy sp’iled oysters. And if the
whole hundred had been rotten you couldn’t ’a’
stirred up a wuss hurricane about it. Jist you

 

5

pay me off, for I ain’t goin’ to open another
oyster in this here old shanty.”

“ Pay you oll‘, hey!”

“ Yes. i want pay for five hours] work.”

“ llang you, you've eat oystcrs enough now to
pay you, rotten ones and all,” with a grim smile
at the recollection. “ If there’s anything more
a-comin’ to you, I’ll settle it right ere on the
nail.”

He picked up a leather strap that lay behind
him and made for Tom. The latter individual
thought it about time to leave.

“ A royal old row to be kicked up ’bout sich a
trifle,” grumbled Tom, as he walked discon-
solately along. “Howsomever, if they tasted
anything like the one I swallored, I don’t won-
der old Mrs. Trim got a bit on her car. It was
enough to make a hog sick,” and he furiously
spat out the bad taste that came into his niout
at the recollection. “Well, here I am on the
street a ’in, out of a job. But I’m hanged if
I’m goin to let that nice—ialkin’ little humbug of
a Frank Tanner discount me. I’ll warp him, see
if I don’t.”

Frank, meanwhile, had been having some suc-
cess. He had already sent in three customers
to the tender i-nercics of old Franks. They
would need to be ver sharp sheep if they didn i;
come out shorn a ‘ter passing through his
hands.

Frank was quick witted and lively, and gave
promise of making a, successful salesman.

“This way, sir. Step right in. “ We can fit
you out with anything you want. Come in, sir.
\Von‘t charge you anything for showmg our
goods. You can try on anything in the estab-
lishment, from a neck-tie to an ulster, and if (you
ain’t satisfied you can walk out a’ am; an if
you’re fond of pictures we’ll give you a chromo
for our trouble. Walk right in, sir.”

T 10 gaping countryman, at whom Frank
shot off this voluble liarangue, took him at his
word and walked in, without knowing just for
what.

And so it went on for the next hour. The
youthful salesman was already beginning to
make a reputation in the street.

But at the end of that time there was a disa-
greeable diVersion. There came along Tom
Tanner, accompanied by four or five of his vag-
abond assOciates. _

“ 'Whoopee!” cried Tom, as if he‘ had made a
great discowry. “ Look there, fellersl It’s
my nice brother Frank, as sure as you live,
playing barker for old Jew Franks. My eye,
isn’t this jolly? Come up, tellers. What’ll you
have? Fit you out in anything. Nicest fash-
ions goin’. Tight pants; snub-nosed jackets;
chepker-board vests. Stop right up, and git.
fit.’

The young rascals with him laughed heartily
as Tom ran this oil’ in a shrill voice, affecting
to offer them the goods that hung outside.
Frank’s face grew very red.

“Now you get away from here, Tom,” he
cried, angrily. “ If you come here trying to
make a fool of me, I’ll—” '

“ You’ll what?” blustered Tom, coming up
close with clinched fists.

“ No matter what. You get out, that’s all.”

“I thought‘ he’d back water,” laughed Tom.
“Here’s yer fine horse-hair beaver, gentlemen,
made of cows’ tails. Jist try it on. It’s war~
ranted to fit eVei-ybody.”

The coat at which he was tugging came loose
in his hands. \Vith an impulse of mischief he
commenced to put it on one of his ass0ciates,
“those arms were innocent of coat and almost of
s irt.

“ Take it off l” cried Frank.

“Yes, with a liookl”

“ Hey! Vat’s goin’ on there?” exclaimed the
Jew, suddenly appearing. “ Vat you doin’mit
my coats, hey? Father Abraham, I’m bein’
robbed! Catch him, you poy! Catch the
young t’ief!”

Frank started forward to do so, but the boys
runoff with a shout of disdain. '

“ Run after him!” cried the Jew, dancmg
with excitement. “ Run after him 1”

At this order Frank gave chase. The boys
had already gained several yards, and the street
was too full of people for much s ieed to be
made, eithcr in flight or pursuit. 71* rank hesi-
tated about giving the alarm 9f “ Stop thief!”
for fear of getting his brother into trouble, and
so he ran on silently, though the Jew was mak-
ing as much noise as though half of his stock
had been stolen.

The chase had not proceeded far before Tom,
who had lagged behind his companions, sudden.
1y threw himself in the way of the piirsuer, and
tripped hnn so that he fell sprawling to the
ground. Then the mischiewus young rascal

 

 

    

6

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegrace.

 

 

ran off in the opposite direction, with a shriek
of laughter.

“I bet Frank’s salted with the old Jew now,”
he cogitated. “I kuowed I’d wa him.”

He calculated rightl . When IFlank, after a
despairing cflfort to take up the chase again, re-
turned to the store, he found the old fellow wild
with excitement.

“ You no got my coat?” he cried, seizing Frank
by the collar. “ You no call ‘ stop t’ief!’ You
want them to get off mit der coat!”

“ I did my best,” answered Frank.

“You lie, you little rascal! You know dem
po 5! Don’t you know dem pays?"

‘ank was silent.

“ You know deni poys, you t’ief!”

“ Let go my coat!” cried Frank, angrily,
shaking himself loose. “It don’t matter what
I know or what 1 don’t know. Just pay me elf,
and that will settle it. I’m done working for

on.

“ You know dem poys; and you want me gif
you monislil I owe you no inonish !”

“ You owe me for six customers. That is sixty
cents,” returned Frank.

“I owe you no nothing. They didn’t pay. I
Was go gif you nothing for anypody as didn’t

“ You lying old villain!” exclaimed Frank
angril . “ I saw them buy. I wasn’t fool
enoug to trust you. Say, are you going to pay
me or not?”

“ I owes you notting. Day was my old gusto-
mers. Bring me back my coat, and I pays you.
My beautiful coat, worth t’ree tollars. ’

‘All right,” said Frank. “I will bring it
back if I can. And if you don’tpay me then, I will
find some way to get even with you, I promise
you that.”

. And he walked briskly away, again out of a
Joe.

 

CHAPTER V.
A STERN PARENT.

Mas. TANNER had a very disconsolate look as
she figttered about her household duties, doing
her st to keep order where her careless family
did their best to make confusion.

“It’s very trying,” she said to hersslf, “that
tlzose boys can’t keep situations. It’s just one
trouble after another, and it all comes on us.
We did live Comfortable for a while when they
were in the pen factory; but here’s the old
tremble all over again. declare it’s just dis-
couraging. I don’t know though, as I ought to
blame the boys so much, when their drunken
father, Jacob Tanner—”

She checked herself suddenly, for the door at
that minute opened, and in came Jacob Tanner,
solwr for once in a fortnight. He held in his
L. :;d a short, stout leather whip.

“See here, wife,” he began. “I’ve been in-
Vc 'igatin .” .

“ Investigating?”

" Jist so. I’ve been ’round to collect the lit-
11 ' :alances that’s comin’ to my boys.”

‘ Ahl” she cried with some interest. “And
< 1 you get them?”

-‘ I thpughtthat would wake you up, woman,”
he replied, With grim satisfaction. “ I nevar
uc’d sich a cormorant as ou are for money.
~Why, you’d swaller up the nited States bank
and swear it weren’t a mouthful. Well, I did-
n’t git no money, then, so you can put that in
your ipe and smoke it.”

“ hat did you get!” asked the poor woman.

“I got characters. I've found out what sort
of critters them boys is.”

“ Ah l” she ejaculated, her heart sinking with
fear for her favorite son.

“Yes, Wife, and I’m proud of one of ’em, and
ashamed of t other. One’s a honor to any fam-
i‘y, and t’other's an out-and—out little divil. But
1:.er’s ways of gittin’ even,” and he made the
whip whistle through the air.

“ Ob, mercy, Jacob!” she cried in alarm.
“ You are not gomg to whip Frank i”

“I didn’t name no names,” was the non-com-
!rlt’t’al reply. “I‘m a-goin’ to git even, that’s
all!

i The poor little woman fell back on her chair,
and covered her face with her hands. She had
a, presentiment of what was coming, and knew
that it would be of no use to interfere.

Helmked down upon her with a queer ex-
pressmn, while he drew the whip grimly
through. his hand.

At this moment the door 0 ened, and the two
boys entered in company. t was strange how
likethey were and yet how unlike. Any one
could have told at a glance that they were
brothers. The same regular, well-cut features,
the same color of hair and eyes, the same
i .331". and shape. Yet any one would have

 

called Frank handsome and Tom homely. It
was all in the expression. The open, manly,
good humored look of one, was replaced by a
selfish, sneaking, hang-dog look in the other.
Frank’s form was erect, with a free active step.
Tom was slouching in figure and dragging in
ait. Even their mode of entering the room
told their different characters. Frank took off
his hat politely to his parents, and quietly seated
himself in an upright dignified attitude. 'l‘om
sprawled in the nearest chair, flung his but at
tie out under the table, and gave Vent to a loud
groan, as though he was expiring with fatigue.

Jacob Tanner stood upright before his sons,
casting an odd look from one to the other, while
he held the hand containing the whip behind
him. Mrs. Tanner crouched rather than sat in
her chair, with a frightened look upon her face.
The boys felt involuntarily that there wasa
storm brewing. '

“ See here, young chaps,” began their father,
in a short, stern accent. “Ther’ ain’t no use to
mince matters. I’ve been IDVCStt‘I‘gulill’. Or,
to come down to the- leVel of your intellecks,
I’ve been a-fiudin’ out things.”

“ The deuce!” whistled Tom.

Frank kept silent and expectant.

“That’s the long and short of it,” continued
their indignant parent. “I’ve been round to
“Wilson’s pen-factory, and picked up a p’int or
two there. And I’ve been to Fred J (:nes’s oyster
ha and got another p’int. And I’ve been to
0] ‘rank’s slop-shop, and gathered up another
p’int. What’s more, chapees, I’ve been a put-
tin’ them p’iuts togther, and mebbe ye’d like to
know what they all come to.”

Mrs. Tanner was certainly afraid they would
come to trouble. She was rocking herself ner-
vously in her chair, while her eyes had a fright-
ened look.

“They just come to this,” continued Mr.
Tanner, a. stern resolution Setting into his face,
“ One of you’s a confounded little hound and
rascal. T’ther’s a gentleman right through to
the bone. I ain’ta sayin’ which is which, for
that’s a p’int which ye’ll find out afore yer
much older. There’s goin’ to be a wallopin’ old
time round here, my lively lads, and the boy
as has a bad conscience can know where it’s
comin’.”

Tom at his tongue in his cheek as he glanced
over at rank, whose pale face seemed to reflect
that of his mother.

Mr. Tanner’s eyes. in fact, appeared to be fixed
on Frank, and they had a very malevolent
look as he moved with a sidling it toward his
youngest son, still keeping his ban hind him.

Frank did not stir. His face only grew a
shade galer, and his eyes were firmly sat, but he
showe no sign of rebellion. Mrs. ‘anner des-
pairin 1y clutched the back of her chair, as if
to res rain herself from interfering. As for
Tom, a look of mischievous satisfaction spread
over his face, and he made a grotesque mouth
at Frank.

“Scripture says, ‘Spare the rod and spile the
child,’ ” remarked the stern father, as he came
ver near Frank, with outstretched hand.
“ ow it’s my Christian duty not to spile the
child, if I wear out all the rods in North
Ameriky.”

Frank shrunk back involuntarily from the
outreaching hand, but it did not fall upon him.
For in an instant Jacob Tanner had taken a
quick step across the room and caught the grin-
ning Tom by the collar bringin him by a

uick jerk to his feet, whi e the whip was bran-
dished in the air above his head.

“You thought it_ was Frank, did you, you
tricky little rapscallion?” Whiz came the whi
across his shoulders. “It’s allus Frank. hey?’
whiz. “You’ve been a-pla in’ it on Frank,
blame yer eves!” whiz. “ n honest,” whiz,
“brave,” whiz, “industrious,” whiz, “ boy like
Frank! And cure a lazy,” whiz, “lying,”
whiz, “back-bitin’,” whiz, “little devil’s cub,
that’s straight on the road to the State prison,
and a. good riddance to you,” whiz, whiz, whiz.

Tom was dancing and howling with pain, as
the whi continued to descend viciously upon
his shou ders. Chairs were overturned and the
table sent reeling into a corner as the indignant
parent hauled him about the room, inflicting
such a castigation as he had never before expe-
rienced.

Mrs. Tanner released her convulsive hold upon
the chair. Her revulsion of feeling showed it-

self in a nervous little laugh. Tom’s sins had
been so many, and his punishment so slight,
that she felt that a righteous retribution had at
last fallen upon him.

As for Frank, his pale look was replaced with
a deep flush. He had risen to his feet, and was
grasping his chair to restrain himself, while at

 

every stroke of the whip be slightly shrunk as
thou 1h it had fallen upon himself.

“ h, don’t, fatherl’ be appealed in a pained
tone. “ Tom isn’t so bad. e’s only full of fun
like all the boys. Ain’t he had enough now?
Won’t you let him off?”

“ Dry up, Frank. He’s lied you into many a
sound whoppin’, and laughed at you into the.
bargain. I’m goin’ to scorch the Old Nick out
of him afore I’ve done.”

And the whip descended with more vim than
ever. But Toni had ceased his bowling. and a
wicked look had come into his eyes. With a
quick downward jirk he broke loose from his
father’s grasp, Icaving his collar and a handful
of shirt bosom in his hand. '

In an instant he darted to no door, which
get stood open. He turned upon the threshold,

is face blazing with evil passion.

“ All right, dad!” he ej: culaied. “ You‘ve
had your innings to-day. Jist see if I don’t git
mine in the IN xt round. I ain’t nobody’s
baby, to stand here and be licked for nothin’.
I’m done with this here shanty, and l’d bu’st a
blood—vessel afore l’o' work another day to find
you in whisky-money. As for that pretty-
i'aced baby, Frank Tanner, that you’re all a
coddlin’——”

“Well, as for him ?” broke in the father, who
had not stirred a step.

“ I’ll settle his hash, that’s all. He can lug
into jobs as fast as he wants. See if I on’t
plu«r him out on ’em. And for ou, dad—”

“ Vell, for me?” queried the ather.

“ I’ll— I’ll— Blame me, if I don’t blow on
you at every whisky mill in the diggin’s, and
cut off your ikker.”

At this portentous threat Mr. Tanner gave
a deep groan, and made a savage spring at his
defiant son. But Tom was on the look-out.
He darted uickly into the passage outside. In
a. moment 1e was on the stairs, and running
rapidly down to the street. He had taken a
new step forward in his bad career.

Mr. Tanner turned back and threw the whip
into a. corner, while be seated himself heavil
upon a chair. There was a gloomy look on his
face. Tom had been his favorite son; had be
driven him from his home?

Frank’s generous heart prompted him to sav
a good word for his brother, but it was no
easy to come in after what had just passed.
He stood with arted lips, slightly panting, and
with his eyes ixed strangely upon his father.
The mother crept around, and laid her hand
upon that of her son.

“Don’t say a word, Frank,” she entreatingly
whis red. “Tom has been a very bad boy,
and it is well that your father has found him
out. I fear he is on the road to ruin.”

“I shall do what I can to save bim,”au-
swered Frank devotedly. “I don’t believe
Tom is bad at heart. He is full of mischief, I
know, but it’s only a boy’s way.”

“It’s a thief’s way. It’s a footpad’s way i”
broke in Mr. Tanner harshly. “Don’t say a.
word in his favor, or I’ll wollop you next. Not
a word, d’ye hear?”

Frank subsided into silence.

A few minutes of uneasy quiet passed, and
then he took his hat.

“ I must be on my rounds again, mother,” he
said. “I couldn’t find any work this morning,
but I may hit on something this afternoon. I
can’t afford to be idle.”

The mother’s eyes followed the graceful form
of her boy with proud afl'ection as he walked
out of the room, turning to give a kindly nod
as he did so. .

There was silence in the room for some ten
minutes afterward Mrs Tanner going quietly
about her work, while her husband sat in de—
pressed gloom.

“I don’t know if it was all for the best,” lie at
length muttered “ but what was a mm to dr .4
Tom lied like a thief to us, wife.” be u Hiturd.
“It was him kicked up all that row at the H n
factory, and Frank only stood. up for him.
They told me all about it. And it “as Tom
and a. party of other young hounds that dished 
Frank at the slop-shop; and stole a Coat into 4
the bargain, hang them. I didn’t give the little
villain half the rations he desarved.”

A knock at the door stopped his harangue.
Mrs. Tanner hastened to open it, and afine-
looking and well-dressed middle-aged gentleman
entered.

“ Am I in the right place?” he asked. _“Is
there”a boy of the name of Frank Tanner, lives
here?

“ Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Tanner eagerly. “He
is my son.”

“ Ah 1 He seems to be a fine fellow.”

“You bet he’s a fine feller, sir. He’s jist the

 

 

 

.s-

a .....m.. p...

 

v-u....__.w

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegrace.

.

 

 

primeso boy as ever— But it don’t become his
athver to brag. Who mought 1 be a-talkin’ to,
sir?

“ Here is my card,” rejoined the gentleman.
“Iain Mr. Clark, of the firm of Thompson,
Clark & (Jo. Your boy applied tor a situation in
our house, and 1 rather like his appearance and
address. ls he in?”

“I’m Very sorry to say as he’s not in, sir.
But l’h so on the hunt of him instanter.”

“Th ll) is won necessary,” Mr. Clark quietly
replie l. “ Send him down to our house to—
m0rr0w morning. I would like to have a talk
with him.”

“I shall most sartainly do so,” answered
Mr. Tanner Ulht’QlllOusly, as his visitor turned
to leave the room. “Take kcer of the stairs,
sir. Thvr a bit broken.”

“ Thanks. I shall be careful.”

In a moment he was gone.

Mr. Tanner turned to his wife with a look of
proud 3 itisfaction.

“ That’s a nohby feller, wife. I bet it’s a big
firm. Our Frank ’ll be a rich merchant yit.
You mark my words.

“I hope he may, for I know he will be an
honest one,” replied the little woman gratefully.

CHAPTER VI.
FRANK oars INTO TROUBLE.

FRANK TANNER was very much cast down as
he walked listlessly along the streets of New
York. Everything had been going wrong
lately. His father’s idleness and Tom’s reckless—
ness had thrown the whole burden of the family
on his shoulders, and he was too young to‘ have
such a weight of responsibility. For several
hours now he had been looking for a situation,
but had been curtly refused at every place at
which he applied. The trouble about Tom, too,
was Weighing upon him. He had been all his
life accustomed to look up to Tom, and now he
could not get rid of the old feeling for his elder
brother. He would not believe that Tom was
bad at heart, and was sure that it was only his
boyish wildness that got him into so many
scrapes.

Frank was only a boy yet, and not capable of
a sound judgment of character, and he walked
on ver much in the blues about poor Tom.

But his e es caught sight of something that
made a sud en change in his feelings. Several
urchins were playing marbles on a quiet corner
of the pavement; ragged little vagrants, except
that one seemed too well dressed for his
company.

A lig t shot into Frank’s eyes. He crept
stealthi! up, and in an instant pounced upon
this weldressed urchin, bringing him to his
feet with a sudden quick jerk.

“What you doin’ that fur? You let go me or
I’ll glug on,” cried the belligerent lad.

“ ’ve ‘ en looking for you, you little thief,”
exclaimed Frank. “A nicely dressed little
hound you are now, with a. stolen coat on your
dirty back.”

It was evident, in fact, that the boy’s coat
was much too large for him.

“ It’s in coat!” yelled the lad. “ Daddy
bou ht it ur me.”

“§fou lie, you thief. That’s old Frank’s
coat, which Tom Tanner put on you., Come
with me. I’m responsible for that coat.’

“I won’t go a step, dang you!” screamed the
boy,tas Frank dragged him along the pave-
men .

“ You shall go then,” and Frank set his teeth
resolutely. “ You shall go, if I have to carry

on.

He was determined. He had been put in a
false position by the loss of the coat, and was
bent on setting himself right, no matter who
sufi’ered. _

“Hello, boys!” cried Frank’s prisoner. “ Ye
ain’t goin’ to let this fellow carry me off now,
is yet” ,

The other urchins at this appeal, made a
combined assault on Frank. Vlho had as much as
he wanted to do in beating them 03, and hold-
ing on to his prisoner. _

“ You’ve got to come,” he cried. “That coat
was stolen when it was in my care. Iam 801113
to take it back and you in it.”

“ Take yer old coat,” whined the boy. “It’s
too big for me anyhow.”

“ I will take it, and you too,” answered Frank,
with set teeth, as he warded off the blows of
his assailants.

He caught the boy by his coat collar. It was
a poor hold, for the next instant the prisoner
stoo ed, and slipped out of his ill-fitting coat as
easi y as a rat might slip out of a bushel bag.

With a vicious kick at Frank’s shins the
escaped captive ran off, followed by his com-

 

panions, and with a shrill laugh of disdain as
they left Frank standing alone holding the
empty coat.

or a moment he looked as if inclined to
pin sue them. But a second thought restrained
him.

“ Maybe it’s as Well to let him go,” he re-
flcctcd. “Imight get Tom into trouble. I’ve
got the coat: that’s the main item.”

There was a dccp sense of satisfaction in his
mind. as he made his le toward Chattain
street. He felt that his honorwas at stake, and
perhaps even his honesty callcd in question.

'his article had been stolen when under his
charge. It would not have been stolen but for
his taking that position. Frank was very sensi-
tive where a question of honor was cormcrnod,
and felt as dccply responsible as though he had
himself stolen the. coat.

He walked into old Franks’s clothing store
with an air of quiet triumph, carrying the
rescued article over his shoulder.

“Hey, poy! What brings you mit my store
ag’inf” cried the Jew angrily.

“I have come for the money you owe me,”
answered Frank.

“You git out! 1 owes you no nionish. You
brings me my coat, and I giVes you all the
monish I owes you.”

“Very Well. Here is the coat.”

The Jew’s eyes glistencd. He 5 run
forward to grasp the coat, but IFran

eagerly
backed

"‘ Not too fast,” he exclaimed. “ l’ve brought
you the coat. Haven’t I toed the mark plum in

that?”
. “lToed the mark?” repeated the Jew, question-
ing y.

“ Yes. Ain’t I square up? Haven’t I rubbed
out my score? I thought on understood good
English, Mr. Franks. aVen’t I come up

honest and sound?”

Yes, yes!” cried the Jew.
goot 0y. Gif me my coat.”

“ i1! you take me on and give me a job
again?”

“ Yes, yes, I git you one job ag’in.”

“I guess you won’t then,” answered Frank
drvly. “Pay me otf what you owe me, and
I’ll give you the coat.”

a] owes you no netting,” replied the Jew dog-
ge y.

“ You won’t pay me off then?”

“You gif me the coat, or I haVe you arrested
for stealin’. I owes ou no inonish at all.”

“ I’d serve you rig t if Icarried the coat off
again to where I got it,” answered Frank con-
temptuously. ‘ ‘ But I’ll be honest, whether you
choosp to p ay the rogue or not. Here is your
coat.

The Jew made an eager grab for it,,but he re-
ceived it in a vigorous swipe across the face
dealt with all the strength of Frank’s arm. Half
blinded the greedy old rogue fell back._ The in-
dignant bo threw the coat after him, With
such force t at it twisted round and round his
head. Then Frank stalked with dignity out of
the store.

“ Much use in taking all that trouble for you,”
he muttered. “But honest is honesty. f he
chooses to be a. rogue that c on’t excuse me for
being one. And anyhow I’ve had some satis-
faction out of him.”

He laughed quietly to himself at the thought
of how he had paid the old Jew for his mean-

“ You’re a very

ness.

“Maybe I’d best go back and get a written
character from him,” Frank continued. “It
would be useful if I applied for another job as
barker. I wonder what kind of a character old
Franks would give me.”

While thus cogitating he had proceeded a
considerable distance, and had turned into a
quiet street leading between two of the busniess
streets. _

He had not proceeded far up this avrnue be-
fore he became aware of a tumult before hini.
SeVei-a! boys, of about his own size, were furi-
ously fighting. A second look showed Frank
that it was a fight of three to one, and that the
one was his brother .Tom, who was evxdently
getting the worst of it. _

Frank didn’t like fighting. As he plainly
said, he would rather run than fight an day_
But it was not because he was a coward, 11:; be.
cause he thought fighting a disgraceful and low-
liVed business. _

“Sup ose a boy calls me a. liar,” he would
say. “ Vill 1 prove I ain’t one by plugging
his nose, and putting his eyes in mourning? If
I ain’ta liar his saying so won’t make me one.”

But this was a different matter. Here was
Tom in danger. It was no time to stop and find
out the cause of the quarrel. Without a mo-

 

ment’s hesitation Frank plunged in, and aston~
ished one of Tom’s antagonists by a touch an-
der the ear that made him see stars.

“ Cowards!” he cried between his tccth.
“Three of you on onc! (live it to tlv- ill, 'I‘oml
Pelt that curly-headed chap. I‘ll take this
one.”

There was a sudden tlchi-sion in Tom’s favor,
as Frank’s fl is shot annuity to right and left.
The three boys gave way bcl'orc this i'cinl'orcc-
ment, leaving Tom, for thc momcnt, in c. Tho
Selfish young rogue took advanlngcol'this oppor-
tunity to take to his heels. llc had bccn HHIIO'
what punisln d, and with the instinct of the
selfish coward he did not care who got hurt so
he got off.

Frank continued to fght, unaware of the
cowardly action of his brother. 1;. t his an-
tagonists were thrce young vngrnnts who
were used to hard punnncling.‘ They saw their
advantage, and turncd on the d< Voted boy. He
fought hard, but they were too much for him.
Frank turned his head dcspniringly to look for
Tom, and only thcn (liscchred that he had been
deserted.

A quick sense of shame and indignation fillcd
his heart. But innch as Frank hated r uarrel—
ing, there was no back down in him. In was
in for it now, and was going to cithcr whip or
be whipped.

Blows fell thick and fast between the com-
batants. Frank knocked down one of his as-
sailants and grappled with another, the mcst
dangerous of the three. He was heavier than
Frank, but not so quick. and a vigorous wres-
tling match followed. It ended by the two of
them falling together into the muddy strcet,
where they rolled like young savagcsem-h doing
his best to disable the other. Frank’s other an-
tagonists hovered around trying to get in a
blow, but the movements of the wrestlcrs were
too quick to permit it

Yet even in the midst of the struggle Frank
could not help fccling ashamed of hunscll'. He
had prided himself on his self control and re-
spectability, and here he was rolling,r in the
mud, fighting with a street Arab. And much
ashamed as 1e was of llllll~t‘lf, he was tenfold
more ashamed of his brothcr.

“ But I am in for it, and l’Vc got to lick or be
licked,” he thought, Srtting his tcelh firmly,
and grinding his mil-my‘s head into the mud.

At this moment there was a (lchrsion Frank
felt a. desperate kick in the sidc from one of the
other he s, and at the same time he heuid a
stern veice. . l

“ How is this?” came in loud accents. “ Three
to one? Shame on you, boys! Stop lighting, or
I will call an officer.” .

The magic Word “( {IiCcr ” suddenly took the
starch out of the Arabs. The two upright ones
backed off, and the othcr tore himscll loose
from Frank’s loosencd grasp and scrambled to
his feet. Frank followed him rathcr slowly.
He had been overinutched, and his strength wits
nearly gone.

Frank was an object when he had gained his
feet. Mud from head to feet, even his hair
matted with mud; his clothes tom; blond rod.
denin the mud-patches on his face: he was
almos unrecognizable.

He hopedtindccd, that he would not be recog-
aimed, for his im‘cluutary glance toward the
gentleman whohad interfered gave him a start.
I: was Mr. Clark, of 'l‘hompson, Clark 8; Co.

Thoroughly ashanud of l is bppl‘lll‘lllit‘t‘ Frank
turned his head, in png to escape the shaip
eyes of the gentlcman.

“There is no u~e, my boy ” said Mr. Clark
Sharply. “ I knmv you, and I am sorry cucugh
to find you in nc.. a discruccl'ul busincss.”

The other boys, who had withdrawn lot a
few steps, laughl d u‘ Frat.le downcast. as” ct.

“I couldn‘t hclp it, Mr. (‘l.-.rk,” hc huh lily
answered. “And I’d do it again if tl osc fel—
lowa attacked me." he con‘inucd more llt.l('(ly,
as the sound of their llll'gll caught his cars.

“I have no doubt you would, rcl'llct' Mr. ,
Clark cutting-ly. “l scc that you are full of"
fight. I took a fancy to you, Frank Tanrcr. I
have just been to see yourymrcnts, in d a lrcd
them to send you down to my store. L‘rt you,
needn‘t come, I don"t. want you. You are not
the kind of boy that 1 care to take in hand.”

Frank hung his head dijcctcdly. Tr“. 1m}
got him into trouble again. Bill 1! quick rcvul- ‘
sion came upon him. llo had nothing rcmlv to
be ashamed of. He. l‘flll cnlv sought. to (71 fcnd
his brother against were i clining («.453 10mm];
lifted nis head ui :: a flood movement, and

10oked Mr. Clark in the face,

“I am sorry, Mr. Clark,” he, said, “for I
would have liked to be wi h you. But I cruld-
n’t help fighting theSe boys; and if I had it to

 

   
 

    

romance of this person.

8

 

'IK . , .......

 

do over I would fight them again, if the Gov- I
ernor of New York stood by.”

Frank turned and walked away, his dignity
considerably reduced by his up )earance. But
Mr. Clark looked after him wit athoughtful
eye. Semi-thing in Frank’s last words had ar-
rested his attention.

Frank had got rid of Considerable of his mud
before he reached home, but he was not yet a
very inviting object.

“ Hilln!” cried his father.
Yer a blamed pretty pictur’.”
, “Been fighting.” answered Frank quietly, as
. he proceeded to wash his face.

‘ Fighting?” exclaimed his mother,.running
to him in alarm.

“ I ain’t much hurt, mother,”answered Frank.
“ I ess I gaVe as good as I got.”

“ Vell, I’ll be dumbflusteredl” Whistled his
father. “Frank fightin’! I’d as soon ha’
thought of Tom readin’ hymn books. Hurry and

't off them muddy duds, boy, and git on your

unday clothes, fer I’ve a bit of news for you.
You’ve struck ile, my lad.”

““’hat do you mean, father?” asked Frank,
pausing on his way to the next room.

“Ther’s been a gen’leman here after on,
from a bang-up ’stablishmcnt. Mr. Clar ,of
Thompson, Clark & Co.,” reading from the
card. “I cal’klate ther’s a prime job waitin’
for you. You’re goin’ to be in clover, my son.”

“I fear not,” replied Frank dejectedly. “ It’s
a bad business, but Mr. Clark saw me in that
light, It’s all up. He told me that I needn’t
come and see him.”

Frank walked from the room, leaving his
father the picture of surprise and growing
anger. 3

“ Thor’s yer polite son for ye, Mrs. Tanner,”
he exclaimed spitefully. “ I’ve been a-braggin’
up that boy and kickin’ poor Tom out of the
house. And this is what comes of it. Arter all
.my endeavors to git him a sitiwation too. It’s
too confounded bad, Mrs. Tanner, and I’m goin’
to be even with him.”

He commenced to look for the discarded

'whi
“ “ The boy
Hear his

“ What’s up, boy?

 

. £10, no,” cried his wife in alarm.
did not fight without good cause.
story first. Jacob.” .
“ I’m a-goin’ to ’t even with him,” remarked
Mr. Tanner, very ecidedly. -
~ But at that moment there came a knock upon
the door. Mrs. Tanner hastened to open it, and
revealed the portly figure of Mr. Clark. At the
same moment Frank emerged from the inner
room,dressed in his best suit and presentin a
very different appearance from that of ve
minutes before.

 

CHAPTER VII.
DOWN HILL AND UP HILL PATHS.

IF there had been any sense of shame in Tom
Tanner’s soul he would have been thoroughl
ashamed of himself as he ran off and left his
brother to fight his battle alone. But he was
far too selfish to care for aught but his own
comfort. In his miserable little heart he even
felt glad to have got Frank into trouble.

“It’s him as get me licked by dad,” he cogi-
taterl. “ I hope them rats ’11 give him agood
scorchin’. I’m bound to git even with him, the
rascally little stuck-up, that’s allers a- ettin’
me into trouble. I jist Wish I’d stays there
and seen ’em pelt him.” .

But staying might have involved getting
pelted himself, and Tom had no fancy for that.

anybody was fool enough to take up his quar-
rels, well and good. They might have the fun
of fighting them c 1, for he was going to save
his recious skin at all hazards.

e was langhin" quietly to himself ,over the
scrape he had got Frank into, when he was ac-
costed by a young gentleman who had ap-
proached him unnoticed.

There was something very culiar in the ap-
e was very short
and very stout, and looked as if some heavy
weighthad fallen upon his head. flattenin him
down and spreading him out. He walke with
a peculiar roll, as If he had been to sea in his
c;.ys. In face he was far from prepossessing.
Ilia nose was short, and very much turned up
as: the end. His mouth was unusually wide;
his eyes small, half shut, but sharp as Steel gim‘
lets. A shock of reddish hair bristled up over
his large head.

His attire was as odd as his appearance. A
pair of wide pantaloons, held up by one sus-
pender, and rolled up several inc es at the bot-
tom: a coat whicph looked as if made_ as an over-
L i 'I‘

 

0

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and S

 

._n._._,..;4...t.._.. .. . .... ..' . _ .e . . . ........n. . u... . . . .. .. H... gr. ..,

Capegrace.

 

 

' 21”“  twice his size: and a hat that l

was set very much on one side of his shock of
hair, completed the outward appearance of this
youthful individual.

He took a clay pipe from his mouth on
oblserving Tom, and addressed him very famili-
ar y.
“ The top 0’ the mornin’ to ye, my jolly cove.
Pass over yer flippers Tom Tanner, and so
what in the blazes is u’s‘ied: fur yer nose lS
barked like all thunder, and e've had a nor’-
wester plumb in yer starboan e e.”

“ A little bit of a scrimmage,’ Tom modestly
answered. "Got into a row with three skin-
ners, and laid them out. But a feller can’t save
his fame when there’s three to one.”

“Lay it right there, bully boy!” exclaimed
the other delighted] . “Why yer a hoss, Tom,
if yer ain’t lyin’. ut blame yer jolly eyes ye
kin lie faster than a mule kin swaller oats.
What’s the lay ?”

“ Lookin’ for a job,” answered Tom.

“ Lookin’ fer dunder and blitzen! A chap
like you, with ten fingers and ten toes of yer
own, and a-wantin to go to work. Why, I
never hearn tell of sich an idyot. Trot yer
shanks along arter yer uncle, and I’ll rake ye
inter a .perfession. I like ye like blazes, Tom,
and I’m goin’ to do the sound thing by you,
right chock up. Lookin’ fur work, you beggar!
V by, I’ll make a gentleman of ye. A tight lad
like you, as has got his wits about him! Work
be fiddled! Feller me, my charmer.”

Tom hesitated a moment. He knew some-
thing of the antecedents of this promising
youth, and was not sure whether it was advis-
able to follow his lead.

“See here, Bandy Ben,” replied Tom dubi-
ously. “ What’s in the wind!l I ain’t no fool,
to foller every chap that chooses to whistle.”

“All serene,” rejoined Bandy, hitching up
his trowsers. “I’m not oin’ to git down on my
shin bones to beg ye. ‘0 home to yer daddy,
and don’t be cavortin’ round ’mong folks as has
cut the’r eye teeth.”

He clapped his pipe a ain between his lips
and sent out a long puff o smoke, as he looked
at Tom with a. sidewise glance from his cunning
little eyes. .

“ Can’t go home,” answered Tom. “Dad’s
kicked up the awfulest scrimma e. Laid it on
to me like a forty-knot breeze. cut stick and
run fur it, Bandy. Don’t think I’ll back water
that-a-way soon.”

Bandy burst into such a fit of laughter that
the pipe fell from lips and smashed into fiinders
on the pavement, while a mouthful of smoke
went down his windpipe, and half choked him.
His mirth was followed by a stran ling, cough-
ing, stamping and cursin that ma 6 Tom draw
back in some alarm. t was several minutes
before Bandy recovered from the effects of his
explosion. '

“Durn yer eyes!” he cried, taking Tom by
the collar. “ If e say anything as funny as that
ag’in,blame me if, I don’t hu’st yer h’ilcrl My eyes,
it must ’a’ been jollyl VVouldn‘t I liked to seen

er old dad a—bastin’ ye! Make ye skip, Tom?

ake ye holler St. Martin? S’pOse he brung all
the dust outen yer coat, hey ?”

And Bandy broke into another fit of laughter.

“Dry up, exclaimed Tom, angrily, “or I’ll
punch your head l” _

“ That’s my meat l” cried Bandy delightedly.
“Git in yer flippers, my covey! Why, I ain’t
had a scrimma e fur a week, and I’m gittin’ as
rusty as an 01 hulk. Squar’ yerself, my bully
bu’sterl” _

The dwarfish imp flung himself into an atti-
tude before Tom, and threw up his muscular
arms in professional style.

“ Oh, drop all that, Bandy l” cried Tom, a
little scared. “I’ve had enough of that fun for
one da .”

“Ye ain’t goin’ to back down?” Bandy’s
voice was full of regret. “Won’t leta feller
git in one left hander? Why, shoot ye, I’ve a
notion to give ye a sockdologer anyhow, Jist to
kee my hand in. I’m sp’ilin’ fur practice.”

Tgm backed ofi.’ in alarm as he saw the look
of professional disappointment in Bandy’s eye.

“ I won’t fight you, anyhow,” answered Tom.
“ It’d be like a cat fightin' an elephant. You’re
more than my match, Bandy.” _

“Wish I could plane meself down,” said
Bandy, regretfully. ,“ I’m jist wastin’ away
fur a scrimmage. Howsonidever, we’ll let that
slide. J ist ye sail along in my wake, my heart .
I kinder freeze to ye, Toni. I’m goin’ to ma 6
aman of ye. Work be fiddled! I’ll gin ye a
perfession as ye kin be proud of all yer life.”

Bandy rolled independently away, with one
hand in his ocket, and a finger of the other in
a button-ho e of his coat. His hat was set more
on one side than ever. Ton-'3. r} es followed

§< ’J'Q-Os‘.'o. ‘

 

him doubtfully for a minute, and then he start-
ed after him.

It had been an instant of the utmost import-
ance to his future life. He had come to the
parting of two ways, one leading to honesty and
virtue, one to vice and crime. He may well
have hesitated. But he had chosen according to
his nature. He had taken the path of crime.
Nor was it done blindly; for he knew well to
what Bandy Ben was leading him.

But leaving Tom Tanner to tread the path
which he had chosen, we must return to his bro-
ther, whom we also left at a critical period of
hiilyoung life.

e had, as we have related, come from the
inner room of the Tanner apartments at the
same moment as Mr. Clark appeared at the door
of the outer room. Frank’s heart sunk within
him on seeing who was there. This gentleman
must have come to upbraid him, and the boy’s
first impulse was to slip back into the room from
which he had come.

Yet Frank was too manly for that. He felt
that he had no reason for shame, and he nerved
himself boldly for the unpleasant interview be-
fore him.

Yet Mr. Clark did not look very angry. There
was a. half smile on his face, as his eyes fell up-
on the altered ap earance of the b0 .

Mr. Tanner sly y dropped the whip which be
held, and came forward with a great show of
politeness.

“ Glad to see you ag’in, Mr. Clark,” he ejacu-
lated. “Weren’t no use for yer comin’ back
though az I‘d been sure to send the lad round,
’cordin to promise.” ,

“ But perhaps I may not want him around,”
answered Mr. Clark. _

Mrs. Tanner sunk into a chair at this, while
Frank clinched his hands in quiet determination
to get a position somewhere. 0

“ We want straightforward, energetic, well‘
trained boys,” continued the merchant. “ Now
I am sorry to say that I just caught your boy
in a fight with a party of ragamufiins. Rolling
in the mud with them, 'Mr. 'lanner. Of course
that kind of a. boy won’t suit us.” ’

“My boy Frank flghtin’l” cried Mr. Tanner.
“VVh ,ther’s no fight in him. Speak up for

erse 1", Frank. Tell this gentleman as it must
8) been some other little cove.”

Mr. Clark waited curiously for Frank’s an-
swer.

“That would be telling a lie father,” an-
swered the boy, quietly. “Mr. Clark is right.
I was fighting.”

Mr. Tanner darted an angry look at Frank, as
if he felt that this was more truthfulness than
was called for.

“ What were you fighting about?” asked his
mother, sure that Frank must have a good
reason.

“I got into it, and I had to go through with
it,” replied Frank. “I wish you wouldn’t say
any more about it. Mr. Clark is not interested.”

“I would like to know what it was all about,
Frank,” remarked that gentleman.

“ It was a private matter,” answered Frank
decidedly. “I am very sorry Mr. Clark, for
l’d like to be in your store. Hut I can’t tell
you what that fight was about.”

“Why don’t you tell the entleman, you
youn fool!” cried Mr. Tanner arsbly.

“TIiere is no need,” Mr. Clark quietly re-
joined. “ I know already.”

“You know?” exclaimed Frank, starting up
eagerly. -

“Yes, my lad. and I honor you for your si-
lence. I made those boys tell me the cause of
the trouble, and find you were only seekin to

revent your brother from being pumme ed.

by, Frank, I would have fought myself, on a.
less provocation. But how came you there
alone? What became of your brother?”

“ I—I don’t-—” hesitated. Frank. “ I guess he
was hurt, and got awa .”

“ Was it that young villain, Tom?” broke in
Mr. Tanner hotly. “Out with it, Frank. He
got you into a fight and then ran away? Come
out, boy, square and honest.”

“ Oh, never mind!” answered Frank un-
easily. “Tom didn’t mean no harm, I know.
He must have been hurt. Mr. Clark don’t
want to hear our family matters.”

Mr. Clark made no answer. He rose from
his seat, took his but from the table, and care-
full adjusted it upon his head. He then
walked to the door, which stood open. Reach-
ing the door, he turned and fixed his eyes on
Frank.

“Get your hat, my boy,” he said.
you to take a little walk with me.”

It need not be said that Frank leaped from
dcjection into hope at these words. u an in-

“ I want

 

 

 

stant he had his hat, and was at Mr. Clark’s
elbOW.

The latter, with a courtly bow to Frank’s
parents, led the way down-stairs, and through
the streets, the 1nd walking half behind him.

Frank had imagined that Mr. Clark’s pur-
pose was to ham: 9. private talk with him, but
to his surprise the gentleman did not utter a
word, but walked steadily on, through street
after street, until he reached the store from
which Frank had been so curtiy dismissed only
a day or two before.

Mr. Clark led up through the store to the pri-
vate office of the firm, Frank sobcrly following.
Mr. Thompson sat there alone, and looked up
inqpiringly as they entered.

r. Clark took a seat, quietly removed his hat
and gloves, and ran his fingers easily through
his hair.

“ You have brought the boy, I see,” remarked
Mr. Thompson.

“ Oh yes,” answered Mr. Clark quietly. “ This
is our new store boy, Thompson. “'0 will give
him a chance to learn the business.”

Frank’s heart leaped with joy.

“ Very well,” rejoined Mr. Thompson. “ Take
a turn through the place. my boy and see how
you like the looks of things. Xou can begin
your work to-morrow morning.”

Frank hesitated, while his face flushed.

“ Well, Frank, what is it?” asked Mr. Clark.

“Excuse me,” faltered Frank, “but business
is business. It is only the question of salary,
sir. You know, Mr. Clark, that we are poor,
and I must make some money.”

“Why, the grasping little roguel” lau rhed
Mr. Thompson. “ We can’t play it off on him,
Clark. Very well, my lad, we will give you
three dollars per week for the first year. Or we
may increase it if you are very useful. Will
that satisfy your greediness?”

“ Oh yesl Thank you, sir!” cried Frank glad-
ly. “That’s as much as I am worth, but I will
trfiand do my best.” .

e hurried out of the door and into the bust-
ling establishment.

“Looks to me like a good boy,” remarked Mr.
Thompson.

“ He is a treasure,” answered Mr. Clark with
energy. “ As manly a little fellow as I have
ever seen. And business to the back-bone."

He proceeded to describe the fight which had
so nearly ruined Frank’s chance of a situation.

CHAPTER VIII.
A YEAR or SERVICE.

WE must ass rapidly over the events of a
year, succee ing the date in which the two boys
chose their life rofessions. It was a busy and
eventful year or both, though we cannot do
more than glance at its events.

Frank speedil established himself as a polite,
obligiiig and in ustrious lad, thoroughly honest,
and giving promise of making a good salesman.
As yet, of course, he was only errand boy and
general doer of odds and ends about the estab-
lishment. But one may make himself a charac-
ter for doing things well even as an errand boy;
and Frank was so prompt, intelligent and will-
ing, that he became a general favorite, and ere
long was trusted by Mr. Clark With commis-
sions of some importance.

Yet he was not without his enemies. 'The
boy was inde endent, and often spoke quickly
where it won (1 have been best for him to keep
silent. one man in particular, a salesman
who.was disposed to be t rannical and over-
bearing With boys rouse the old Adam in
Frank, and got cur answers to his rude orders,
until he came to have a special dislike to the
boy. But being cowardly at heart, as tyrants
are apt to be, he kept his feeling ver much to
himself, waiting his opportunity. “ e mention
this here, as it was destined to make mischief
yet for Frank.

While Frank Tanner was thus advancing in
his chosen profession, his evil disposed brother
was making an equal progress in his.

Band Ben introduced him into a peculiar so-
ciety 0 which he was a prominent member, the
declared objects of which society were to prey
upon all the rest of the community. The old
rogues’ proverb, “ get money; honestly, if possi-
ble; but get money,” was surpassed by the doc-
trine of this association. “ Get money,” was its
only axiom. All idea. of honesty was left out
of the question.

It had its degrees, ranging upward from those
of pickpocket and sneak thief, to the higher
honors of burglar, counterfeiter, bank-breaker,
and, as some averred, stock-broker, lobbyist
and Member of Congress. But not speaking for

 

 

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and, Scapegrace. 9

the higher grades of the profession, we must i

confine our attention to that in which Bandy
Ben had made himself prominent, the lucrative
lines of pickpocket and sneak-thief.

In this direction the young rrprobate was ex—
ceedingly expert, mid could empty pockets, and
slip into carelessly -guardcd houses, with a
celerity and success that made him the envy of
his less expert assoeiatcs. It was nothing ini-
common f'or them to be caught in the exercise
of tlicirurt, and be sent to prison for a year or
two’s repentance. lint Bandy lien had yet es-
caped the clutches of the guardians of the law,
and nothing gave him more pure enjoyment
than to see some of his awkward associates
nabbed by the police.

Tom Tanner knew well the life he was taking
up, when be obeyed the summons of the skilled
VOlill” thief to accompany him to his haunis.
But 'lom was irrcdeemably bad at heart. Mrs.
Tanner had done her best to instill virtuous
sentiments into the two boys, but her teachings
were thrown away on the elder of the two, who
eagerly caught up all the vile lessons to be
learned from the boys in the street.

Thus it did not require much argument to
persuade Toni Tanner to be a thief. He was
utterl devoid of Conscience, and he only want-
ed to o assured by Bandy Ben that it was safe
and would pay, to throw all shreds of honesty
overboard.

It is true that the effects of earl teaching
cannot be thrown off instantly, an Tom did
feel some slight compuuctions at his first lessons
under his skilled tutor. But this feeling did
not last, and he was soon hardened enough to
steal the pennies from a starving beggar, with-
out a care as to what became of his victim.

And theft was not the only accomplishment
of Bandy Ben. He prided himself on being
able to smoke more tobacco and drink more
whisky than any boy of his age in the com-
munity. And he was as skilled in cheating at
card play as any Missisnpni gambler. So it
may be surmised that Tom Tanner was in very
promising hands.

We must drop in upon the two boys at the end
of their first year of duty, to see how they have
progressed in that period. A year has made :1
mar ed change in Frank’s a )pearancc. He has
grown taller and steuter, w ile his face has be-
come very handsome and intelligent. He is
nearly the sole support of his parents, for his
father is no fondcr of work than of yore, and
spends the greater part of his time in a favorite
gin shop, where he manages to git rid of what
little money he earns. But he treats Frank
better than of old, and can find no words
strong enough to express his opinion of his ab-
sent son, Tom.

“ Haven’t you never seen the young rapscal-
lion, nowhere, while yer scootin’ ’round town?”
he asked Frank, one morning, as the latter was
about to set off for the store.

“ No, sir,” replied Frank. “ I often look for
him but I have never seen him.”

“Blame his fliuiideriii’ e es, I’d like to git
hold on him ag’in. I didnt give him half a
sockdolOgin’ that day that he kicked out. I’d
jist like to finish it.”

“Ain’t you too hard on poor Tom?” asked
Frank, somewhat hurt. - “ He wasn’t any worse
than the other boys, and most of them are et-
ting to be good fellows now. 'Wliy, I’ve o ten
been as ugly and as wild as Tom myself.”

“You?” cried Mrs.’Tanner, with an incredu—
lous laugh. “ You ugly and wild? Why, on
don’t know what you are talking about, Chi .”

“I am not quite an angel,” laughed Frank,
as be put on his hat. \

“ Oh, you git out!” cried Mr. Tanner. “ Don’t
stand there palavorin’. You couldn’t bring
sweet butter out of Tom Tanner, if you was to
churn m 'ay for a whole year. He’s all butter-
milk, that chap; and the sourest kin( .”

Yet, if the truth were known, the main source
of Mr. Tanner’s anger against l‘om was that he
had ceased to be a source of income. He might
be as rascal] y as be pleased, for all Jacob Tan-
ner would have cared, if he only supplied the
Tanner exchequer with funds.

Frank made his way to the store. He had
been home to a very scanty dinner, and was
back again for his afternoon service.

“Stu- up, boy,” cried one of the salesmen.
“Mr. Thompson was just out looking for you.”

‘.‘ Ah l” said Frank regretfully, “some errand,
I suppose. I thought I would get done sortin
those plaids before I went out again. ButT
judge there’s no help for it.”

‘_‘ ct the plaids rust. You can’t do two
things at once. You have too many irons in
the fire, Frank. There’s no use for you to
make work. They’ll make enough for you.”

. ‘.

 

 

 

 

“ Oh! I like to be pottering around,” lau bed
Frank. “ I don’t find that it. s pulling me own
much, or spoiling my appetite.’

He made his way cheerfully to the counting-
room. Mr. Thompson was not there, and
Frank pushed on to the door of the private office.

“ Come in,” was the answer to his knock.

“Oh! it is you, Frank,” said Mr. Thompson,
who was there alone.

“ I Vi as told in the store that you wanted me,”
answered Frank.

“ Ii—Oh! yes, so I did: but I sent Harr .
But, since you ,are here, Frank, you may ta '9
this package of papers for me to Mr. Brown, at
Sargent & Co’s wool house. And—have you a
pocket book 4”

“ Yes, sir.”

“ Then put this twenty-dollar bill into it. Take
the cars and run up to Tenth street and Sixth
AVcnue. There’s a bill of eighteen dollars and
twenty cents due Yates, the pork dealer there,
on my private account. Be sure you get a
recei t from him.”

“ always do that,” answered Frank, as he
left the room to execute his commission.

He walked briskly to Sargent & Co.’s store,
and left the package there as directed. This
establishment was a considerable distance up
town, and Frank thought it hardly worth while
to take the cars for his other errand.

“ lean walk there about as quick,” he said to
himself, “ and I suppolsc I ought to save money
for the firm wherever can.” '

Yet it is often best to obey orders strictly, as
he found to his cost.

There was some excitement in a street through
which he was passing. A considerable group
of men and boys had gathered, and Frank hur-
rird u , curious to learn what was the matter.

I’us iing into the crowd he found that a horse
had fallen, and the driver was making vain
efforts to get him on his feet again without
taking off his harness.

Frank stood for a few minutes, looking on.
But the thought came to him that his time was
not his own, and that he was not hired to super-
intend the raising of fallen horses. Just as he
turned away there came a slight pressure in
the crowd and he felt himself inconveniently
squeezed.

With a jerk he released himsclf, and pushed
out to the edge of the throng. Some impulse
then induced him to look back and his eye
caught, in the midst of the crow , the well-re-
membered face of his brother Tom. Yet it was
not Tom as he remembered him. The face had-
grown older, and had a ieculiar expression
which Frank did not like. at his old feeling
for his brother came back at the sight of Tom’s
face. and he pushed quickly back, calling out:

“ Hey, Tom! Hold up. old fellow. It is me—
Frank. Hold up. I want to see you.”

Perhaps Tom did not want to see him. At
any rate, when Frank had reached the center of
the crowd his brother had disa )peared, and he
could not get another glimpse of him.

“That was mighty shabby in Tom,” and
Frank drew out into the street again much dis-
fipointed. “ He couldn’t help hearing me.

aybo, though, he is ashamed for havin stayed
away so long. I thought I’d find out w at he is
doing and tn» to Coax him home again.”

Frank walked on thinking he might catch
another glimpse of Tom. But in vain he looked
on every‘ side, there was no vision of the fa-
miliar ace.

_A few minutes now brought him to the pro-
Vision store to which he had been sent.

“ I have some money for you, Mr. Yates,” he
said. “ From Mr. Thompson. How much is
your bill against him?”

“ Which Thompson?” asked the Dutch butcher.
“ Shun Thompson from Fifth avenue?”

“ That’s the man.”

“ He owe me eighteen dollars mit twent
cents,” answered Mr. Yates, consulting his
books.

“ That's right. Here’s your cash. Please
write me a receipt.”

Frank lun ed his hand into his pocket, but a
look of b ank stonishineiit came upon his face
as the hand came up empty. He felt qUICkl .111
his other pockets” icy, too, were 9mi’W-_ 1th
growing alarm, he felt all his pockets again, but
vainly. The pocket-book was [10"?-

“ What’s wrong?” asked the butcher. “You
no got the money ’9” '

“ I had it,” answered poor Frank “.but it is
gone. I must have forgot and left it at the
store.”

“ Don’t know that,” remarked the Dutchman.
“Good many pockpickets ’bout here. You stop
anywhere’s coming!”

Frank’s heart sunk as he remembered the in-

 

    
 

  

10

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegrace.

 

 

cident of the fallen horse. He faltered out an
acknowledgment of his curiosity.

“ Yaw. That’s it. You git ri ht back and
tell Shon Thom on. He’s one foo to be send-
ing‘ money mit oys.”

rank was very much depressed as he made
his way slow] back to the store. It was not
only the loss 0 the money, though that was bad
enough. But he could not help connecting
Tom’s sudden appearance and disappearance
with the theft, and his heart sunk accordingly.

At that very moment, in fact, two individuals
were watching him from a distant corner, and
these were no other than his dissolute brother
and Bandy Ben.

“He looks mighty down in the mouth,” re-
marked Tom. “ But that’s nothin’. Them chaps
at the store think he‘s ice-cream on pound cake.
I bet you high I take the starch out of him be—
fore he’s much older. He ain’t goin’ to lord it
over me with his high airs.”

“ Did you nab the flimsy?” asked Bandy.

“ You bet.”

“How much?”

“A cool twenty.”

“ Jolly. Let’s have a go of oysters. I’ll
stand half, out of my share of the split.’3

While the youn thieves were thus preparing
to divide their p under Frank made his way
back to the store.

He looked very dejected as he confessed to
Mr. Thompson the loss of the money. . The
inerchant gazed at him for some moments in s1-
ence.

“Did you take the cars?” he asked at length.

“ No, sir.”

“ But I told you to.”

“I didn’t mind walking, sir, and thought I
would save the ex use.”

“ Oh! you did, e ? You’ve paid pretty well
for your unasked economy. It would have
been cheaper to obey orders.”

“Yes, sir," faltered Frank, hanging his head.
“ I hope you will take it out of my wages a lit-
tle at a time, sir. I’d like to pay it right off,
but we’ve got to live, sir.”

“Oh! you want me to take it out of your
wages?”

“ I’d be mud: obliged if ou would, sir. And
I know I’ll be more carefu another time. I’ve
had ,s,uch good luck that it has made me care-
ess.

“Very well, Frank. I illness you need the
lesson. If you have a wee y reminder of the
necessit of carefulness, it ma be worth all it
costs. will deduct a half-do] ar a week from
your wages till it is all paid. Here is another
twenty-dollar bill. Go back and pay Mr.
Yates.”

“ Hadn’t you better send somebody else, sir?”

“ No, Frank. But take care you don’t make
your bill fort instead of twenty dollars.”

Frank left he room with a sense of joy in his
heart. He was evidently trusted yet.

“You are too hard on the boy for his first
fault, Thompson,” said Mr. Clark.

“Not a bit. It is a. useful lesson. Twenty
dollags now may save him hundreds in the fu-
ture.

“ That’s so. I was thinking of the poverty of
the family.”

“Well, Christmas is close at hand. We will
make it up to them in a present. Not of money,
though. Old Tanner would make drakes and
ducks of that in a hurry.”

CHAPTER IX.
RETURN OF THE PRODIGAII. SON.

TEE loss of the twenty-dollar _bill had certain-
ly not injured Frank’s position in the store. In
fact, at the commencement of the new year his
salary was raised one dollar per week. and
though the half dollar Weekly was regularly
taken off, its amount was more than covered by
a present of clothing which the firm had made
to him on Christmas.

His duties also were somewhat changed, and
he was given opportunities as a salesman.

“ You are getting along, Frank,” said Mr.
Clark to him. f‘ We shall soon need a boy to
take your place in the store. I fancy (you must
be getting above the pos1tion of erran boy.”

‘ am willing to do any thing you wish, sir.”

“No doubt. But Ithink on have it in you
to make a salesman. I shal have to hire some-
body else to run errands and carry the key, and
so give you a half hour’s extra sleep in the morn-

ln s.”

Frank, in fact, had recently carried the key
of the store, and was obliged to be there earliest
in the morning, to open it out for the porters.

At almost the same moment in which the
brief conversation took place Tom Tanner and
Bandy Ben were seated together in the room of

 

 

a house in one of the most disreputable parts of
the city.

The apartment lookedas if twenty genera-
tions of well-smeared hands had gone over its
walls, while the cobwebs of a century depended
from its rimy ceiling. But little that mattered
to the ha -dozen of young reprobates who were
gathered around its well-battered center table,
each with a rusty-looking clay pipe between his
lips, from which clouds of smoke ascended
through the air.

On the table was awhisky bottle and some
deeply nicked glasses, while Tom and Bandy
Ben were amusing themselves with a very
greasy pack of car s. Money lay on the table
between them, and they were evidently gam-
blin away the proceeds of their last robbery.

“ ou done that job neat as wax-works, last
night,” remarked Bandy, as he sent a cloud of
smoke through his nose. “I never see’d a feller
as took to things as quick as you, Tom. I’ll say
that. My eye, didn’t the old joskin squea,
when you tipped his cady and forked his dough!
He kicked wuss nor a ten-year old colt. And
sich an innercent dove as on was! Bless er
jolly eyes, it did me good!’ and Bandy laug ed
wit great unction.

“ It ain’t a-goin’ to last lon ,” growled Tom,
“if you keep on havin’ sich uck at the cards.
I’m goin’ to give up cards, Bandy, fur you
always salt me.”

“You’ve got to learn the keerds, like you
Iarnt forking,” Band coolly replied, as he
shuflled the dirty pac . “Cut ’em, my cove,
and see if you can’t cut yerself luck.” .

“Yes, fiddlers’ luck” grumbled Tom, as he
looked at his hand. ‘ I b’lieve you put up the

3. rs on me, Bandy.”

‘ Sa that ag’in and I’ll smash your snootl”
cried andy angrily. “ Why, I couldn’t put up
the papers no more nor a baby. Play yer eerds
now, and don’t be glowerin’ there like a monkey,
or I’ll pepper your peepers anyhow.”

Bani y set his hat fiercel to one side of his
head, and gave an extra rol to his sleeves. The
young reprobates who were looking on at the
game drew slightly back. Those movements
usually meant fight with Bandy, and they
expected to see a sharp tussle between the two
gamblers.

But Tom had no stomach for a fight, and
began moodin to play his hand. Bandy, seeing
that there was no present chance fora row,
followed suit, and t e game recommenced. It
continued for half an hour longer, at the end_ of
which time the veteran gambler had emptied
Tom’s pockets to the last penny.

“ Lawseel e ain’t wiped out a’reagy?” cried

“ A ore the fun’s half start

Bandy. é Wh
I allers told

yer not wuth yer weight in cats.
ye you couldn’t play with er uncle. Git out
now, and let some 0’ these are cha peg in.
Pile up, Sandy; I want to see the co or of that
stake you struck on the old moll lay. Yer sich
a lucky dog with the ladies.”

“I’m your boss,” answered the red-headed
fellow he had called Sand . “I’ll buckle you.
And I’ll bet a red you can t warp me as easy as
you did Tom.”

“ Dry up and tackle the keerds,” growled
Bandy Ben. “ Ye’ve ot blow enough to set a
windmill goin’. It’s al chance anyhow, every
blamed fool knows that. It’s all the run of the
page , and ye’ve got as much show as I have.”

s be Spoke he was skillfully manipulating
the cards, and puttin them just where he
wanted them, with suc art that it would not
have been easy to detect him.

Tom, a. little sore at his losses took a deep
drink from the bottle, with all the vim of an
old toper, and seated himself gloomin with his

ipe in a corner of the room, the fiery liquor
having no more seeming eflect upon him than
so much water.

Meanwhile Bandy was diminishing the ill-
Eotten gains of his new antagonist as readily as

e had fieeced Tom of his spare cash.

Tom continued gloomy all the afternoon,
though he frequentlv applied himself to_ the
bottle as it with the ope of raising his spirits.
The consequence was that when he and Bandy
sallied forth together after nightfall, Tom was
considerably the worse for the liquor he had
swallowed, though his well-seasoned compan-
ion was a stead as a clock.

“What’s the lay to-night, my lovely buzzer?”

ueried Bandy, as he rolled along in his sailor-
like fashion.

“Don’t know. The honest lay, I guess,”
rowled Tom angrily. “There’s thunderin’
ittle use gettin’a chap’s neck in a string, and

you a-saltin’ all his funds with the cards. It’s
pretty nigh played out. Bandy.”

made ye playl” roared Bandy. “It’s yer own
doin’s, right from the shoulder. Bani yer
squint-eyed profile if it’s dough ya want erc’s
yer provender. And shet u .”

Tom was rather astonished when Bandy
offered him a handful of money. The cunning
young thief had the credit of winning two—
thirds of the illegal gains of his associates, and

l keeping it. There was even a tradition among
|them that Bandy Ben had a neat deposit at
1 some bank. Others claimed that he never did
I an stealing himself, that he always had some
l lig t—fingered partner who took the risk, while
Bandy shared the spoils, or else won them all at
card play. He was the banker and broker of
the pickpocket fraternity.

It may be imagined, then, that Tom was
rather surprised to receive a present of cash
from his tight-fisted associate. He looked at
him with a sense that there must be something
behind all this.

h Ngr was it long before Bandy revealed his

an .

“I s’pose yer still keepin’ an eye on that
’ristocratic brother of yourn,” he casually re—
marked.

“ You bet,” answered Tom.

“Still forks the jigger, I s’pose?”

“ What’s that?” asked Tom.

“Burn yer consarnedi n’rance, don’t ye un-
derstand good English? s a chap got to chew
dictionary with e? Does the bloke carry the
key of the store, ,hat’s what?”

“Ohl” cried Tom, with a meaning glance.
“That’s the la , eh? Well, if he don’t there’s
no snakes, that s all.”

Bandy rested himself contentedly against a
lamp-post, and scratched his head leisurely
whi e a partv of young men were passing by.

“That’s the lay, Tom,” he said, when the
coast was again clear. “You and me’s been
wires long enough. It’s time we was ettin’
above gooseberry lays. I’ve got an am ition
fur a rise in the pcrfession, Tom. I’ve got it .
in me to be a gin’yine night worker, and to hit
fur big stakes.’

“But what’s that got to do with the key?”
asked Tom, suspiciously.

“ Jist you nab it, that’s all.”

“ Can’t do it. It’s no admission ag’in’ me in
them diggin’s. They’d kick me out if 1 showed
a nose there.”

Bandy took off his hat to scratch his head the
easier. Then be shut his left eye cunningly, and
put a finger alongside of his nose.

“ Can’t e investergate yer dad?” be queried.
“He’s lik erin’nou at Micky Flynn’s. Why,
ye kin it right to the old coon’s heart if ye
prime im well with red-eye. And—but I
don’t s’pose it’s necessary fur me to put brains
in yer thinkin’ box. I’ve gin ye the idee. Ye
kin work it up yer own way.”

Tom stood thinking for a moment, then he
burst out: ‘

“_I’ve got the idee, Bandy. You slide I’ll
do it; I’m bound to git even with Frank Tan-
ner.

An hour afterward Tom walked sly] into a
low rum-sho kept by a gentleman 0 Celtic
origin name Michael Flynn. The boy looked
inquirineg around the circle of hard drinkers
there assembled. In a distant corner of the
room he espied the well-known figure of his
father sittin alone at a table, and looking
very disconso ately into an empty tumbler that
stood before him.

Jacob Tanner explored his pockets with the
forlorn hope that nature might at last have
done her duty by him, and planted a miniature
gold mine in one of these pockets. But in vain;
nature had not done her duty in that way, and
he again looked into his glass with the hope that
some fairy might have refilled it.

“ What you lookin’ for, dad?”

The old r'cllow’s eyes were uickly lifted.
There before him, as coolly as if e had parted
but yesterday, sat his prodigal son, with a year
of growth on his form, and five years of ex-
perience on his face. Mr. Tanner’s first sensa-
tion was one of anger.

“Why, you imperdent little devil’s varlet, so
you think you kin walk in here and brazen me
out, do you?" roared the father. “Git nowl
Instanterl Or I’ll go for
ever went for cow’s milk. never want to look
on your dirty physiog ag’in.”

‘ Hold yer bosses, dad,” said Tom, affection-
ately. “ It don’t pay to kick too quick in the
traces. What’ll you imbibe? I’ve gotthe need-
ful, you bet,” and he made the silver clank in
his pocket. “ ‘evy, landlord, stir (yer stumps
over this way. hat’s er likker. ad?”

The indignant parent ooked at his son, while

 

“ Why, ye growlin’ little baboon, I never . the angry expression slowly died out from his

ou wuss nor a cat '

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegrace.

11

 

 

face. Something like a smile appeared on his
mouth, like the moon showing out for an in-
stant among storm-clouds. He drummed rest-
lessl on the table.

“ me, dad,” repeated Tom. “ Ther’s no
use stirrin’ up old sores. What’ll ye drink!”

Jacob hesitated for a minute more, and then
said in a very low tone:

“ Whisk , straight.”

Toni hai conquered. The magic of silver had
softened the soul of the indignant iai'eiit.

We will not dwell on the scene tliat followed.
It is no pleasant Spectacle to see a son plying
his father with drink, nor to see a mere boy
swallowing strong liquor with almost the ease
of a case—hardened old toper.

Suffice it to say that at the end of an hour or
two Jacob Tanner rose from his seat much the
worse for drink. Tom, who had been careful
not to drink too much, hastened to support him
as he staggered against the table.

“ Yer a boy arter my own heart!” hiccoughed
the father, while he threw his arm over Tom’s
shoulder. “ Yer wuth a million of niilk-sops
like yer brother Frank, who’d see me as dry as
a J erse sand-hill afore he'd give me the vally
of a t dy. Yer the apple of my eye, Tommy,
and they couldn’t git a word ag’in’ ye outen
me if the ’d take tongs.”

He ree ed along the street under Tom’s guid-
ance. He was very drunk even for him.

“Don’t let out you seen me, dad,” cautioned
Teni. “There’s no use lettin’ ’eiu know where
you met yer angel.”

“ Me let out!” cried the father, with a drunken
wink. “ Hope yer don’t s’pose yer old dad’s a.
fool, and ain’t had his eye-teeth cut? Nary
time, Tommy, my son.”

Tom left his father at the door of his domicile
and glided quickly away. The old drunkard
made his way with difficulty up—stairs, Stum-
blin g at every step. He finally reached the door
of his room and began to fumble in his pocket
for the key.

“ Shoot my buttons if I don’t believe I’ve lost
it!” he muttered, as he explored ocket after
pocket. “KnowI put it in yere, ut the ran-
tankerous thing’s gone. Mebbe I dropped it on
them stairs.” He made his way to the head of
the stairs and looked down. He tottered as he
clung to the head of the balusters. “Ther so
ridiklous oneVen,” he grumbled. “ And they’s
got sich a way 0’ kickin’ up, ’s if they was put
on pivots. Carpenters nowadays don’t know
how tobuild stairs, I reckon. Let them than
derin’ old keys go! I could get it well enough,
only I don’t want to ’sturb folks. ’Tain’t ’cause
I can’t navergate down stairs.”

He beat a tattoo on the door loud enough to
waken up all the establishment.

. “It’s only me, Mrs. Tanner,” he whispered
through the door. “Don’t ye make no noise

’cause I don’t want to ’sturb nobody.”

_ Afar a minute the door was opened from the

ma e.

“Drunk as a beastl” exclaimed Mrs. Tanner,
angrily. “And makin noise enou h to rouse
up the whole block. ere is your ey‘l”

“Oh, bless (your eyes, I forgot _the key!” and
he commence again to fumble 1n his pocket,
quite oblivious of the fact that he had searched
in vain for it before. _ ,

“ Oh, come in l" cried Mrs. Tanner, indignant-
l , takingh him by the collar and pulling 11”“
t rou h t e doorway. “I don’t see where you
got al your liquor.”

“ Now jist shot up, Mrs. Tanner.
take none of our slack.”

The door 0 osed. A sharp click of the dead
latch was heard. The Tanner household was
shut in for the night.

CHAPTER X.
_ BREAKERS AHEAD.

THAT same night, at a later hour, another
erson came in at the door of the Tanner house-
old. It was Frank, who had been keeping un-

usually late hours for him. '

“ Don’t disturb yourself, mother,” he cried, as
he heard a movement in the next room. “ It’s
only me.” .

" Why You’re very late, Frank. Where in
the wor d have you been i”

“ I went to the theater,” answered Frank.
“ I made a little extra mone to-day, and as
it’s my birthday I thought I’d have a treat.”

“ That’s right, Frank. I hope you had a very
good time. What o’clock is it?”

“Just twelve. There’s the clock striking
now.”

Mrs. Tanner listened and distinctly heard the
bell of a neighboring clock strike three times.
The first nine strokes of the twelve had passed
unheeded by her.

I won’t

 

 

“It sounds to me like three,” she said. “ Very
well. Go to bed, and happy dreams to you.”

Soon all was silent. nother hour passed,
and then a peculiar fumbling was heard at the
door, and t e sound of stealthy footsteps in the
room. This ceased and all grew still again.

For two or three hours afterward silence con-
tinued, and then the same peculiar sounds re-
turned. It was a gliosilike movement, a rust-
ling to and fro and the fall of iiiuilled feet. No
one awakened, and after a few minutes the
room sunk to its former q'uiet.

It was late the next morning when the family
awoke. Frank and his father had kept such late
hours, and Mrs. Tanner had been so much dis—
turbed during the night that they all overslept
themselves.

“Mercy on us! here it’s near eight o’clock!”
cried Frank. “ I can’t take more than a bite,
mother. I must be. off, or I’ll have everybody
waiting for me at the store door.”

By the time he lied eatena slice or two of
bread and butter his father made his appear-
ance, lookin 1' much the worse for his debauch
of the night fore.

“ Bless me if my brains ain’t swimming ’round
in my head jist like a nest of humbly bees,” he
muttered. “1 b’lieve the put some drugs in
the ale nowada s. Nob y ever heerd of one
glass of ale settin’ a man’s head afloat in the
old times. I really don’t know what the world’s
a-comin’ to. It’s bad ’nough to drug vittals,
but when they come to druggin’ drink it’s too
confounded ridikilous.”

He is. mbled around the room, after drenching
his head plentifully with cold water.

“ Hey, wife! did you take that there key
outen my )ocket last night?”

“ No. You said you lost it.”

“ \Vell, it’s here on the table. Must have for-
get and laid it down when I come in,” he mut-
tered. “Blame if I don’t swear off ag’in’ ale.
It’s gittin’ too much body in it nowadays for
my narves.”

rank, paying little attention to this mono-
logue, hurried through his scanty breakfast,
seiZed his cap, and drove hastily through the
door with a cheery “Good-morning.” He did
not like the idea of being late.

In fact, on arriving at the store, he found
the two porters and one of the salesmen waiting
for him at the door.

“ Why, come, little lazy-head, this won’t do,”
exclaimed the latter, jokingly. “You’ll check
all the wheels of business if you’re going to
make love to your pillow at that rate.“

“They’ll run the faster when they get start-
ed ” answered Frank gayly.

e took the key from his pocket and opened
the store door, admitting the waiting men. It
was near the hour for business, and very soon
other salesmen and clerks came in. t was
about nine o’clock when Mr. Thompson entered
the store. , _

0n doing so he noticed a ecuhar commotion
among the persons present. hey were gathered
into a group, excitedly talking, while several of
them appeared to be examining cases of goods.

“ What is the matter?” he asked, walking
briskly u to them. “ What is your interesting
sub 'ect o conversation, Mr. German l”

T 9 person addressed looked quickl

“ Oh! I am glad you are here, Mr.
I was about to send you a message.”

“ Why. what has happened?”

“The store was robbed last night.”

At this startling information Mr. Thompson
drew hastily back.

“The saints!” he cried. “Robbed?” '

“Yes. We don’t know how much is taken
yet,but several valuable rolls of goods are miss-
ing. You see this case of Lyons Silks. 'lhis was
the first thing we noticed. It has been opened,
and two packages of goods taken.”

“ Bless mel” exclaimed the alarmed mer-
chant. “This must be looked _into at once.
Have the store thoroughly examined, Mr. (xer-
man. See what is missing.”

“ I have them at it now, sir.” _

“And—let me see. Well, ou Will do. Mr.
Wilson. Go down to ilice ead-quarters as
quickly as possible, and ave them send up one
of their best detectives.” .

“What for?” asked Mr. Clark, who bad Just
entered.

“Eh! You here, Clark? I’m glad you’ve
come, for we want all our. wits thls morning.
The store was entered and robbed last night.”

Mr. Clark heard this with much less excite-
ment than his partner had shown.

“ Robbed, eh? That’s pleasant, I declare.
Much taken, Thompson?”

Mr. Thompson shook his head gloomily. . He
pointed to the open case of silks.

around.
hompson.

 

“Bad, I fear. Very bad. We don’t know
the worst yet.”

“Then the sooner we know the worst the
better,” exclaimed Mr. Clark with energy. “ If
we are to worry over it let us have the worry
in a lump, and done with.”

“ You worry 'i” retorted Mr. Thompson, with
a sense of amusement. “ Why, I don‘t believe
you’d worry if they carried away the house
over your head, so that they left you the ,
clothes you stood in. You’re too pi'ovokingly I
cool.”

“All right. It’s my way,” answered Clark
easily.  You have sent for an officer?”

“ es.

“ If I don’t fret, I’ll go for the thieves all the
same,” and Mr. Clark hurried back to the
oilice, to put on his office-con t.

Thompson looked alter him with some envy.

“He’s a regular Mark Taple ,” he said;
“ happy under discouraging Circumstances.
Hang it all! there’s such a thing as bein too
cool, and Clark’s one of that kind. I don"t be-
lieve anything short of a toothache would stir
his nerves, and that would vsnken up an ice-
ber r.”

In about half an hour Mr. Wilson returned
with the detective. He was called into the
private oflice, where the members of the firm
awaited him.

“Have you found out the amount of loss?“
he asked, after some preliminary conVersation.

“Yes. Here is an inventory. It is not as
much as we feared, but the goods taken are all
valuable.” _

“ Hum l” muttered the officer, lookm over
the list. “The rogues could not have he very
good carrying arrangements, or they would not
have been so easily satisfied. Do you know
how the entered?"

“ We Izzft that for you. The men have looked
aropnd some, but can find no sign of a breaking
in.

“Very well” answered the officer briskly.
“I will walk through the building and see what
I ca,“ make of it. Can this gentleman guide
mei‘

“ Yes, you go with him, Wilson.”

The oflicer walked in his brisk way into the
store, and commenced a thorough examination
of the .premises, under the guidance of Mr.
Wilson.

The cases from which goods had been taken
were closely examined, and then he proceeded
to study the various possible modes of entrance
to the building, looking at every door and Win-
dow with critical eyes. A half-hour and more
was spent in this round, after which he returned
to the office.

“ Well ’l” asked Mr. Thompson, nervously, af-
ter the officer had quietly seated himself.

“ Green hands,” he answered, in a decided tone.
“Net a professional job. Lucky for you that
they were only apprentices, or you would have
fared worse.”

“Have you found how the get in?”

“I am pretty sure how t ey ot out. The

oods were taken through the ho ted door that

eads to the rear street. But they did not enter
that we . .W ho carries the key of the store?”

“ Oh l’ cried Mr. Thompson, hastil . “ That
is in safe hands. Our store boy has i . But we
would not have trusted him with it only that
he is such a thorougly honest little fellow.”

“ No doubt,” answered the officer, dryly.
“ The are all honest till they are found on .’_

“ e have every confidence in this boy,” said
Mr. Clark, quietly. _

“ I haven’t said that he was a thief,” re 'oined
the officer. “All I can say is that the t ieves
came in through that door, opened by that ke ,
if I am not sadly mistaken. Is this boy in t e
store?”

“ Yes sir.”

“ Send for him.”

There was a slight nervousness in both mem—
bers of the firm as they awaited Frank’s coming.
They were very favorably disposed toward the
lad, and could not help feeling troubled by this
opinion of the officer.

Frank entered. He, too, was somewhat ner-
vous, and failed to display his usual earnest
straightforward manner. He_ hung his head
slightly. The fact that he carried the key, and
some remarks which he had heard in the store,
troubled him.

The officer bent his cold gray eye on the boy,
as he stood with hightened color before him.
Frank's glance shifted from one to the other.

“ Do you want me Mr. Thompson?” he asked.

“Yes. This gentleman wishes to speak to

on.”

“ Where do you live?” asked the detective.

Frank told him.

 

.—-_—.....w._.-_....._. a...“ . w... ..__ . ,, ..  .. . M.

 

l

l

l

  

 

1.2

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegrace.

 

 

“Hum! Nota savory quarter. You carry
the key of this store?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where do you keep it at night?”

“ I never let it go out of my pocket.”

“And do you talk about it? Do the rest of
the folks in that establishment know that you
haVe charge of it?”

“No indeed, sir. Mr. Clark told me to k- ep
that to myself, and I always do.”

“ Was it in our pocket last night?”

“Yes, sir. T found it there this morning.”

“ What time did you get in last night?”

“ Twelve o’clock, sir.”

“ Twelve o’clock, Frank?” exclaimed Mr.
Thompson. “Do on keep such hours as that?”

“Not usually, 1'. Thompson. Yesterday
was my birthday, and I went to the theater.”

“Ah !” asked the officer quickly. “Was any
one with you?”

“ I Went alone,” replied Frank. “But one of

the gentlemen in the store saw me there. Mr.
Parsons, sir.”
“ Send for Mr. Parsons,” said the officer. He

was becomin favorably impressed, despite him-
self, by Fran ’s manner.

The person sent for entered. He was a littl
man, with sandy whiskers, and a very set cas
of features.

“ Were you at the theater last night, Mr. Par-
sons? At—wliat house was it, Fran ” asked
Mr. Thompson.

“ Wallack’s, sir.”

“ I was not there,” answered Mr. Parsons,
coolly.

“ hat?” cried Frank, turning to him with
flushed face. “ Why, I saw you there, Mr.
Parsons. And you saw me. You looked straight
at me, and not ten feet away.”

His tone was very indignant.

“The boy is mistaken,’ replied Mr. Parsons,
coldly. “It must have been somebody who
looked like me. I was not there.”

“Why you were that very pinl” exclaimed
Frank. “ And you saw me too! You know
you saw me, Mr. Parsons!”

“Did I?” answered the man, with a cold smile.
“ Do you want me any longer, Mr. Thompson?
I don t care to band words with the boy.”

“ No. That will 0.”

Parsons walked quietly away, Frank looking
after him with a bewildered expression. He
was sure that he had seen him. But there was
one thing he did not know; that Parsons was a
bitter enemy of his. He was the person to whom
we referred in a previous chapter.

The officer looked keenly at Frank, who had
laid his hand on the back of a chair, and was
gazing with disturbed eyes after the disappear-
ing salesman.

“ That will do,” remarked the officer. “You
can go now.”

Frank slightly started, looked at the membei s
of the firm as if thinking that they mi ht have
something to say, and then quickly eft t e room.

“ Well?” said Mr. Thompson, with a glance of
inquir at the officer.

" I ardl know what to think of that boy,”
answered t e latter, shaking his head. “ He
seems honest and straightforward. But facts
are the stuff, gentlemen; hard facts. See that
he does not leave the store. I must have a
search-warrant, and look into his place of resi-
dence. Something may turn up there.”

An hour afterward the officer entered the
Tanner domicile. Mr. and Mrs. Tanner were
both present, and looked inquirineg at their
unknown visitor.

“You have a son named Frank Tanner?”

“Bless yer eyes, yes! In course we have,”
replied Mr. Tanner heartily.

‘ Was be out late last night?”

“ Not that I knows on. He ain’t a bit given
that way.”

“ He was at the theater,” answered Mrs.
Tanner. “ But why do you want to know?”

“ What time did he get home?” asked the
officer, without heed to her question. '

“ At twelve o’clock.”

“ How do you know that?”

“Why, I heard the clork strike.”

“ Ah! You heard the clock strike twelve?”

“ Why, no,” a little confused] . “I on]
heard it strike three times, but ank said it
struck twelve.”

A quick flash came into the officer’s eyes.

“ So! You heard it strike three and he said
it struck twelve. You trust Fran then more
than you do your own ears Mrs. Tanner?”

“ Why—why, yes. I only heard the last of
it. But what is the matter?”

j‘I fear the boy has been in mischief,” was
the cold answer. “I have a warrant to search
these rooms.”

 

“For what?” asked Mr. Tanner hastily.

“For anything that don’t belong here,”

replied the oflicer, as he at once proceeded to
put his warrant in execution.

The Search did not last long. It took but a
few minutes to examine the two sparsely fur-
nished rooms. Buthe drew from under Frank’s
bed a long flat package neatly sewed up in
linen.

Mrs. Tanner’seyes opened as the officer quietly
drew his penknife and cut the stitches of this
package. A sheen as of silk appeared through
the opening.

“ What have you got there?” asked Mr.
Tanner, gazing earnestly at the package.

“Stolen goods,” was the cold answer “There
was a robbery at Thom ison & Clark’s store
last night. This is iart oi the proceeds. You
can put that and tat together if you wish,”
and the officer walked from the room with the
bundle of silk under his arm.

An hour afterward Frank Tanner was taken
into custody on the «charge of participation in
burglary.

 

CHAPTER XI.
'ron‘s TRIUMPH AND FRANK’S DISTRESS.

WE must return to a scene which we visited a
chapter or two ago, to the haunt of Bandy Ben and
his villainous ass0ciates.

The group of young pick ockets was seated
around the room as we saw I iem before, smoking
and talkin in language that had an oath for every
third wor . Tom Tanner was one of the loudest
talkers in the gang. Something seemed to have
highly delighted him, and he burst into occasional
fits of laughter with no apparent foundation for

em.

“What in the blue blazes has become of Bandy?"
he ejaculated. “Why, he‘s slow enough to give a
mule the brain fever.”

“Waitin’for the ’lection returns, maybe,” sug-
gested one of the boys, with a wink. “ Baudy’s bad
struck with politics. ’

“None of yer larks now, Toppy Jim ” cried Tom,
angrily. “ our jokes is too salty. out you be
gettin’ them off on me”.

“I don’t keer half a. pipe of ’baccy for you,” was
the retort.

“If you come rootin’ round these diggin’s I’ll
make ye keer, then." and Tom rolled up his sleeves
suggestively. “Hellol here’s Bandy now. Jist in
ante 3 stop Toppy Jnn’s jaw. What‘s the news, old
po e

“ Dry upl" was Bandy’s very curt answer. “Ye‘re
too curyus. Give a. chap time to wash the cobwebs
catch his throat."

Not a word more would Bandy utter until he had
takenadraught of whisk .iilled and lightedhis ipe,
and fixed himself comfor ably inachair with his eels
on the table.

“That’s all serene,” he remarked, as he sent a
whiff of smoke curling- toward the ceiling. '

“But what is the news?” asked Tom, anxiously.
“Is the police squintin’ this a-way? That‘s the in-
terestiii’ p’int.”

“The perlicel” cried Bandy, with infinite con-
tempt. ”Why, bless yer stupid eves, ye 'don‘t
s’posc the perliee ever hits the. bull‘s eye till it‘s
pushed right up ag’in’ their noses? Ye‘ve only got
to make a false trail fur the perlice, and thy] fol-
lcr it like blind moles. 1 don‘t keer a whiff of
‘baccy smoke fur the best on ‘em.“

“ They’re of! the track, then?” asked Tom.

“ Didn‘t I say it? D’ye want me to swear to it?”
“Yer a reg’lar old growler, Bandyl. How’s the
tra worked, that‘s what I’m arter. ow ’bout the
litt. a joker, eh?”

“ They’ve nabbed our decoy duck,” answered
Bandy. "They’ve snatched that nice brother of
yourn from haste.”

“I knowed it!” cried Tom, throwing up his hat
in an enthusiasm of delight. ‘I told 'ou I d git even
with the proud, stuck-up Sunday-so ioolerl Him a
puttin’ on mm. and gittin’ me kicked out into the
street! I knowed the time ’d come to lay out Frank
Tanner." _

The heartless goung villain lay back in his chair
and reared Wit laughter. He seemed overcome
with en‘oyment at the unpleasant predicament of
his brot ier.

A look of disgust came upon Bandy‘s face. Bad
fie he was Tom‘s behavior was too heartless even for

im.

“Belay thatl” he growled, “or I’ll swipe yer
pretty face for ye. Yer a bigger hog nor I thought
ye was, Tom Tanner. And ye‘re a. good deal too
fresh. Ye’il blow on us next and sell the pass, if ye
keep goiii’ off that way.” '

Tom, with some efiort, reduced his face to so-
briety, with a slight sense of shame at having ex-
posed himself to his associates.

“How ‘bout the plunder?” asked another of the
boys. “ What’s to he did '1”

“Won’t do to spring the

lant yet,” answered
Bandy, decidedly.

“ I ’ve got t 1e fence marked out,
but we’ve got to lay low and keep shady till the
Wind goes down a bit. Come, lads, who’s in funds?
I’m tired of buzzin', and feel like shakin’ the pa-
pers. Let’s have a set to,” and he produced a pack
of cards.

But no (me took the bait. That book had been
offered to them too often. They were not in the

mood just then to invest all their loose cash in
Bandy’s bank. He grumbled and cursed at them

 

 

| for riilk-sops and babies, but it bad no effect. They
woulu not play and that was an end to It.
I “ Smash my fingers if l’d give a penny a cart-load
I for sicli l'ellers. A Set of sweet daiSies, ye are,
aren't ye now? Why blow yer ugly carcasses, I‘ve
a notion to emigrate and leave ye to hoe yer own
bertaler patchesl Ye wouldn’t last outen limbo
long ‘nough fur a cut to whisk her tail, only yc‘ve
got me fur a. perl'esser of the finc arts, dang 1-!"
With which dreadful threat he buried his iead iii

sional grow], and a continuous iniiiug ofsmoke,
. showed Iliut Bandy yet survived encath his envel-
oping mask.

curred in another portion of the city.

This was in the office of a police justice, before
whom Frank Tanner had been brought to answer
the charge of burglary. The members of the firm
from whom the robbery had takeiiplace were there,
looking much depressed and disappointed. They
had felt and placed such confidence in Frank that
it was hand to think they had been deceived by this
seemingly innocent boy. But the evidence against
him seemed inconteslable. Mr. and Mrs. Tanner
were also present. The mother was completely in-
consolable. It was a terrible shock to her to see her
dear son arrested for crime. She knew there was a
dreadful mistake somewhere, but the poor woman
could see no way out of the labyrinth, and it was
impossible for her to control her emotion. .

As for Jacob Tanner he had taken care to prime
himself with drink, and had all the sobriety and
coolness of a half-tipsy man. His e 'es were fixed
on Frank with the severity of a much injured father
all whose moral lessons had been in vain.

As for poor Frank, he was in a state of utter be-
wilderment. He strove to appear calm and self-
possessed, but his limbs trembled, and his eyes
glistened with unshed tears, which showed the deep
emotions stirring within him. _

“ The boy acknowledges that this key was in his
possession all last night, and that he opened the
store with it this nioining. Is this the key of your
store, Mr. Thom son?” asked the justice.

.“It is," was he answer, after a brief examina-

tion.

“And you trust it in the charge of a mere boy,
like this? '

“ That is not to the point,” replied Mr. Thompson“
rather angrily. “ There is no question of whom we
trust and whom we don’t. The prisoner had charge
of this key.”

“Very well; since you are so precise." The jus-
tice was a little r’iled also. He turned to Mr. Tanner,-
“ How are your rooms fastened at night?”

“ With a dead latch,” was the reply.

“ A dead latch, eh? And who has eye to it?"

“ Nobody but me and Frank.”

“You live in a tenement-house, you say? Full of
other families? Do you never leave the door un.
latched, so that some of them could get in, and take
the key from your son’s pocket?” Evidently the jus-
tice was favorably disposed toward Frank.

“ Nary time,” was the decided answer. “Mrs.
Tanner‘s a very partik‘ler woman. Why, she locked
me out last, night. I had to ’sturb the whole con-
cern to git iii.”

“ Where was your ke ?”

Ill r. Tanner scratcbe his head a little confusedly.
His memory was not very precise on that point.

“ Why, sue here, Judge," he began. “I’d been
takin’ a little opcdel ock last night, for my rheuma-
ticks, and somehow it allers goes to my head. I‘ve
been kinder weak-j‘intell iii the brains ever sinceI
fought in the war. Anyhow, when I come to hunt
111 my pockets for the key last night, it wasn’t thar.
Couldn't find it nowliar, and so I had to kick for
Mrs. Tanner. Howsomever I guess it was the o e-
deldock, fur there lay the key all right on the ta le
this morniii’.” . ,

The justice looked at him With some interest.

“How late was this?" ,

“ I never keep late hours, judge.
it was wuss nor ten.”

“ How late was it, Mrs. Tanner?”

“ After eleven,” she weepineg responded.

Mr. Tanner cast an angry glance at her for daring
to impugn his testimony.

“ I don‘t b’lieve it was wuss nor ten,” he re-
iterated. “ I‘m a keerful father of a faniil , 'udge."

f‘Wbere were you till this hour?“ aske t e jus-

I don’t s‘pose

tice.

:‘ Why, now you speak of it, judge. I did sto in at
Micky Flynn’s fur a glass of ale. And sieh ri 'k‘lus
powerlulnle you never sec‘d-as Micky keeps. It’d
give a mule the blind staggers."

‘ I see. You came home drunk. Was there an -
body with you? Or were you drinking With anybo y
at the rum-shop?”

“Excuse me, judge. I consider Micky’s a hi hly
’spectable saloon, or I wouldn‘t go tliar. And Iafiers
imbibes by myself. I‘d be ashamed to keep bad
company, yer onor." -

“ Did your son come in later than you?”

“ Blast if I know. I didn’t see him."

“What time did he come in, Mrs. Tanner?”

“ At—at twelve o’clock, sir,” answered the weep-
ing woman.

“Are you sure of that i” queried the detective.
“ Did you hear it strike tWelve?”

Mrs. Tanner was silent, with her handkerchief to
her eyes.

“ Please. answer,” said the justice, in a kindly
tone. “Did you hear twelve strike?"

But—but

“I—I heard—I only heard three, sir.
Frank said it was twe ve. I didn’t hear the rest of
it.” Her voice quavered so she could scarcely

speak.
The justice shook his head doubtingly.. Matters

 

the collar of his extensive coal, and only an occa- ,‘

At almost the same hour in which this conversa- i.
tion was taking place, a very different scene 00- "

%

 

 

were certainly looking black for Frank. He reflected
for a few moments. He then lifted a packet of
goods which lay before him.

“ Are you familiar with this article, Mr. Sharp?“
he asked the detective.

“ Yes. I brought. it. here.“

“ VVlieredid you obtain it?”

“From under a cot

t

, reason, to know if an

bedstead in Mr. Tanner’s ‘

rooms, wiuchl understand was the sleeping-place ,

of the prisoner.

"Do you recogniz» it?“ He passed it down to the
members of the lll‘lll.

They examined it closely, particularly ith-stiga-
ting the marks upon the Covering. present
waited in breathless interest for their answer.

“It is part of the stolen goods,“announced Mr.
Thompson gravely.

“ Arc you sure of that?"

“ We cannot be mistaken."

“ That will do, gentlen‘icn. I must commit Frank

Tanner, the prisoner at the bar, to answer the I

charge of burglary. The hearing; is ended."

,' queried Micky.

Poor It‘runk sunk nervclessly into a chair, and cov- .

ered his face with his hands.
strained to their utmost tension, and a natural re-
vulsion now overcame him. A dreadful vision of the,
penitentiary opened out before his eyes.

Mrs. Tanner broke out into a loud wail of grief.
She threw her arms around Frank‘s neck, and could
hardly be removed by the efforts of her husband.

Mr. Clark, who iad remained stoiidly silent
throughout the examination, now approached the
distressed boy, and whispered in his ear:

“Keep up your spirits, my boy.

His nerves had been 3
1 other oath.

I don’t believe ,

you hm any more to do with this burglarythan my- 5
self. You are the Victim of a plot, and l have a sus—

icion of
r0ther—"

That bad

“Oh!” exclaimed Frank in horror. “You don’t
think——- Oh! sir, 'l‘om would never—Tom’s wild, sir,
but l‘m sure. he’s not bad at heart.”

“ Very well," answered Mr. Clark, with an assuring
smile. “ At any rate 1 will look into this matter
more closely.” .

Meanwhile Mrs. Tanner was being removed from
the court. The detective, Mr. Sharp, lent his aid to
the husband to support- the distressed woman.

“ Don’t you be in sich a stew, wife,” said Mr. Tan-
ner soothingly. “Frank’ll swim through all right,
you see. Frank‘s solid, right through. If it was

but oung villain ’l‘om now—”

“ ho’s ’l‘om ?” asked the detective hastily.

“Tom? Why, he’s my other son.”

“ Your other? i thought/you had only the one.” ~

“ I never have much to say ’bout Tom, ’cause he’s
kicked adrift. He's a little scapegrace as is rowin’
his own canoe."

who is at the bottom of it.

Mr. Shar asked no more questions, but a. light
cgmgciigto 's eyes. Had he caught the end of a new
t re

 

CHAPTER XII.
MR. SHARP 0N ms scnu'r.

WE are again in the office of Thom )SOn. Clark &
Co. Only two persons are present, r. Clark and
the detective, Mr. Shar). There is an earnest look
upon the merchant’s accas he addresses himself
gravely to the officer.

“ Between you and me, I am inclined to think that
Frank is innocent of that crime. It looks decidedly
as if there was a plot to injure him."

The officer shook his head.

“You have too much trust in human nature.“ he
remarked. “ And besides, who would get up such a
plot to injure a boy like this?“

“I don’t know. But if Frank is not honest then I
am badly deceived. And it may not have been an
intention to injure him, but to screen the real rob-
bers by laying the blame upon him.” .

“ There is more reason in that,” admitted Mr.
Shit . “ I have had that notion myself."

“ Iyell, then, I want you to work it up on that line.
Look up the whole affair. You have some sus-

iciona out old Tanner‘s movmnents. Investigate
hem And try and discovor if the boy was really
at the theater that ni rht.”

“I will,"‘answere Mr. Sharp.

find that rascally brother of the lad.
that he had a hand in this pic."
_ "I would give something to have Frank proved
innocent,“ responded the merchant. “ Do your
best, Mr. Sharp. If you succeed it will be worth
your while.“ I

Mr. Sharp took his hat. Their business was over,

“And I hope to
It might be

 

 

and he was a man of action, and not disposed to !

waste words.

It was not many minutes afterward when be en-
tered the establishment of Micky Flynn, that gentle-
man of Milesian descent whom Mr. Tanner patron-
ized.

There were but two or three of his ordinary cus-
tomers present, and Mr. Sham entered into a quiet
conversation with the proprie or, in reference to the
movements of Mr. Tanner. '

“Not the one of me knows,“ exclaimed Micky, a ,

little angrily. “l’vc got to ’iend to my bar, and

sorry I’d be to be nosin’. round my customers.

Jacob Tanner’s a dacent man enough. And he

pays fur his drink on the nail, or he goes dry.
liat‘s my tactics."

“ That’s a clever way of doing business,” laughed
Mr. Sharp. “Yes, I‘ll try some of your Oldest ale.
—That's got afine head on it," as Micky brought a
foaming glass. "1 like a prime old malt, and I
fancy you’ve gotit there."

“Ye can well sa that,” answered the. pleased
proprietor. “You’ not find the like of that brew-
m’ at every hand’s turn, I promiseye.”

Mr. Sharp dallied over his ale.

\

    

13

 

 

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegrace.

“You don‘t remember, then, about Jacob Tan-
ncr on that evening? I was curious, for a certain
one was with him.“

“ Now you s lake of it, it‘s coinin’ till me as there
was. A good ump of a boy. And betune you and
me he drank whisky like a fish drinks water. I
dunno who thehard-headed little shrimp was, but
he imist ha‘ been \chlch on 'l‘ip wintry potheen."

“You don‘t know him?" cxc ‘iimed a tall, raw-
boncd fellow, who sat at a neighboring table. “Then
by the beard of a Jersey oyster, Idol Why, he’s
just the juicicsl little hound as ever rubbed out shoc-
leather on brick pavements. Didn‘t I hire hitn in
my oyster-cellar once, and the bullet-headed sand-
snipe scht-tl me out by scndin‘ rotten oysters to my
best customer? The primest lilac-Pints ain't no
temptation to her since."

And lt'red Jones the oyster dealer, for it was he,
rounded off his remarkshy an oath of the very salti-
cst fragrance.

“ Will \t'c tell the gentleman who the lad was?”
“ All I know of him is that he had
nickel-plated innards." .

“it was 'l‘oni 'l‘unner,“answered Fred, with an-
".lt was old Tanner‘s young liOpcl‘nl,
blast his topkiiot.l 1 thought at first he was goin’ to
be serviceable. and cut all the sp‘ilcd oysters hisself;
but when be begun fecdin‘ my customers on ‘cm I
guvliiniancat little hint that we’d best dissolve
partnership. Ain‘t set eyes on the little blue-nose
shark since, afore t’otlier night.”

Mr. Sharp finished his ale.

“And they left here together-about what hour?“
he inquired.

“ Soni'at after eleven. I (,‘(lllSltlt 1'. Old Jake was a
trifle overcome, and the boy was hclpiu’ him. I
know it, furl pegged out. just behind them.”

Mr. Sharp felt that he had gained some iin )ortant
information. All this, in connection with od Tun-
ner's loss of his kcy, and his finding it the next morn-
ing on a table, instead of in its usual place in his
pocket, began topoint suspicion in another direc-
tion. It was desirable to gain information about
Tom 'l‘anner‘s habits and associates. ’l‘o suspect
him was only half the battle. To find him was
ctfially necessary.

r. Shar set inquiries on foot in the tenement-
house in w ich the Tanners occupied apartments,
and also among the boys in the vicinity. He suc-
ceeded in learning the social status of the two boys,
Frank being voted honest. intelligent and industri-
ous, and Tom an unmitigated young rat'cal, without
an ounce of r00d in his composition. This was sat-
isfactory so ar as it went, btit it threw no light upon
the present residence of the seapcgrace. Where is
he to be found, became the question.

Mr. Sharp’s next move was to visit Frank in pris-
on. It was possible that he might know something
about Tom‘s whereabouts. He found the unlucky
ho in a clean but very contracted cell, and in a de-
ci edly gloomy state of mind. He was resting with
his head on his hand, and hardly lifted his face to
view his visitor.

Frank was so youn , active and energetic, that
confinement bore on him quite as hardly as the
charge against him.

“Well, my boy, how do you feel?" asked the

cer.

“ As if I’d like to be out of this," answered Frank,
gloonily.

“I've no doubt of that," was the cheer answer.
“.But don’t get down-hearted, Frank. N e’ll bring
you out all ri:ht, vet.”

Frank lifted his head quickly. I .

“ Oh, Mr. Sliaip! You don‘t believe I'm guilty
then? You don‘t believe I did it?"

“No, Frank. I think you are innocent."

“ Oh, thank you, sir! And I hope Mr. Thom son
and Mr. Clark ain‘t much down on me. I can‘t war
that they should think I would steal from them.”

“They don‘t, my lad. They are. in your favor."

“ Well, that‘s good news anyhow," said Frank,

. lifting up hishead with a bright flush in his eyes.
' “ They’ve been so good to mo that it hurts me more

Sign apything to have them think I could do such a
. img.

Mr. Sharp had helped himself to a chair, the only
one in the cell. Frank was seated on the Side of his
cot. »

“ BY the WW, Frank,” asked Mr. ‘har , suddenly.
“I would like to know something abou your run-
away brother. I)0 you have any idea whero he is?“

This was asked in an off-handed manner, but
Frank looked up with quick apprehension.

“ Why, no." he answm'ed. “I don’t know where
Tom is. Why, what do you want to know that
for?"

“For information," answered the officer, with a
18.11 h.

“{‘ISvtt you don‘t think that Tom had anything to
do with it?" crin Frank, in alarm. “ Oh, 110. sir,
You don’t know Tom. lle's been a pretty’wild boy,

know, but he’s not so bad as that. Tom s Just like
all the boys, Mr. Sharp. It‘s only mischief that
makes him )lay tricks. He’s not.such abad boy.“

“ Not if to is anything like you." l'cpllcd Mr.
Sharp. looking with much interest at the iiiLremious
face of the lad. “ But I didn’t say that I suspected
him. I only asked if you knew where he was,”

“ No, sir. I haven‘t seen nor heard from him for
a year. I wish 1 did, for I’m afraid he niiglzt get

i into trouble—that is, I mean, he might get into

misery and hunger."

“Don‘t fear that," was the confident reply. “I
fancy he will take care of that." ‘

“But I hope you won’t think he’s been doing
wrong. I’d rather go to prison myself than have
anything happen to poor Tom." .

The boy‘s voice was full of pleading. He evident-
ly had a very soft spot in his heart for his dissolute

that won‘t wash. You know a thief by Sight.

 

 

brolther. Mr. Sharp continued to look at him mus-
iii 1' v.
lP‘Mr. Parsons denies being at the theater that
night,” he remarked, with a change of the topic of
conversation.

“ But he was there,” Frank confidently answered.
“I don‘t see what. makes him deny it. 1 know I
wasn't mistaken." ,

“ Has be anything against you? Would he be
likely to wish you harm?"

“l haVe never done anything to him,“ answered
It‘ ank, indignantly. “ lilr. Parsons is very overbear-
ing, and maybe l’Ve answered him too quick some—
times. When a fellow is doingllte best he knows
ho v, he don‘t like to be tut upon, you know."

Mr. Sharp smiled at t‘iank's remark. He began
to see through the difficulty.

“ Was Mr. l’arsons alone at the theater?" he
asked.

“ No, sir. He was talking to a gentleman when I

tasscd him. It was a man that looked very much
ike lnm, loo. Might have been his brother, only I
think he hasn‘t got any."

Mr. Sharp‘s convorsation with the youthful pris-
oner lasted for scvc 'ul minutes longer. At the end
of that time he left the prison with some new ideas
about the case, btit without much new information.

liut the statement that Mr. Parsons had been seen
talking at the theater with a gentleman closel re-
sembling him was important. It. was worth wor ing
up, and Mr. Sharp made it his first business to in-
stitutc inquiries about this doubtful personage.

He soon found that there was such a person in ex-
istence; not a brother, but a first cousin of Mr.
Parsons, and closely resembling him in feature. His
next point was to see this gentleman.

Mr. Sharp was spendinga good deal of time on the
investigation of this case. The day was waning,
but he did not feel that his labor had been without
its reward. Though the weight of evidche had not
been taken from Frank‘s shoulders, it had been
lightened. An hour or two more was occupied in
looking up Mr. Williams, the cousin of Mr. Barsons.
but he was at length found and the detective pro-
cccdi (i rather bluntly to business.

“Excuse me for asking you “ he said. “But
were not you and your cousin, Mr. Parsons, at Wal—
lack‘s theater together on Thursday night?"

The person addressed lifted his eyes in surprise at
thisfiuestion.

“ o, sir,” he replied.

Mr. Sharp was somewhat taken aback. Had Par-
sons warned his cousin?

“That is all I wished to know. I am obliged,” re-
marked the officer, turning away fora. moment’s;
thought. ’

“ Why do you ask me that?" queried Mr. Williams
curious y. ‘We were at the Winter Garden, not at
Wallack‘s. We stopped a few minutes in the ves-
tibule at Wallack’s, but concluded not to go in.
Why do you ask?"

“ At what hour was that?" asked Mr. Sharp
quickly.

“ About half-past seven.“

“Thanks,” was the officer’s reply. "It‘s a oke
of our friend Parsons, I guess. Some one sai he
saw him at Wullack’s, and he denied bein there. I
volunteered to find out. A very neat so for Par-
sons. Good-day. sir.‘

“ Good-day," answered Mr. Williams, laughing at.
the cuteness of his cousin.

“The plot is thickening,"
tective, as he walked away. “Parsons wanted to
injure the boy, that’s clear. Letliim look out that
his gun don‘t kick and hurt himstf worse than his
victim. So far, so good. But I‘ve got one more job
to tit through to-(layf‘

his job howwvr, was one int to be done inn
moment. It consisted in visiting the various
“ fences," or receivers of stolen goods, to see if ho
could disCover any indications of the “placing” of
the proceeds of the late burglary.
Probably

commented the de-

'l‘liis was a dubious mission. a search
would be needed ere he could discover if the lost
goodshad become part and parcel of the stockin
trade 0" any of these shady gentlemen.

But there were several 0 them who had much
reason to be afraid of Mr. Sharp, and who would be
more likely to acknowlulgo omens-ion of the goods,
and play the honest dodge, iltan expose themselves
to the risk of a search.

Two or time of these personages were visited
that afternoon without favorable results. The next
morning Mr. S tarp resumed his round.

'l‘helast of these gentlemen visited was a persona o
of the name of Nathuns, who kepta veiy quiet
clonductcd, but very much suspected pawnbrokers
s to .

This individual answered Mr. Sharp's inquiries
with the same protestations which had been used by
his brothels in the trade.

“ I drive an honest business, Mr. Sharp. and you
know that," he protested. “ I wouldn‘t touch shady
goods for a fortune." , ‘

“ Except that sometimes you get taken in, friend
Nathans," remarked lilr. Sharp, with a_ knowing
wink. “ As in that Brammeily Mfg": for itstimcc. ‘

“Why such things will hrppcn. ’ volnbly crzed the
broker. “Shady goods look vcr much like safe
goods, Mr. Sharp. How is a gent einan in business
always going to know? If he pays a fair price for
goods he is never sure what he‘s buying."

“But shady folks don‘t look so much like safe
folks,” was the answer. “Come, come, Nathgils:i

it
half of the night workers in the town are acquain-
tances of yours.”

“ No, not" declared the broker. “ I give up telling
a thief from an hottest man nowadays. Can’t tell
a wolf in sheep's clothing. I don’t do business with

  

  

,14

 

 

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Sc'apegrace.

 

shady characters. Why there was a chap in here  “How does the world kick with you, Tom?”
.two days ago; a mere boy; wantni ' to int some ‘

goods. The moment I set e cs on 'im said to
myself, ‘ No, no, my lad. l‘ have naught to do
with you. i don‘t ikc ihe cut of your jib.‘ So I
sent him away with it lien in his cur."

“ Alial" cxduimed the officer.
youth?"

“Nevor saw llllll before.
eh?"

"I can’t nnsver for t. at.
chap was it ‘3"

“ A very {ii-culiai'yonng Vagrant, I promise you.
He looked liii‘. one, of these dwarfs wiili a man‘s
shoulders. lle had it tiirir d-u,. nose :iinl l‘I'(l hair,
and squm-Zed up little eyes, as sharp its needles. lie,
was dressed in a man‘s (i\’(‘i(’(iitl, that came down to
his heels :illil lull-[y swallowed llllil up.
log 1 ttlc hound, and ready for any roscnlity, 1 war-
rant. DO you in wgnize the picture, Mr. Sharp?“

“ Hardly," was the. answer.

The officer asked it few more questions, and then
left the place. his face lighting up when he got out-

side.

“Do I know him? Well,l should think so," he
said to himself gleefully. "Bandy Ben, as sure as
shooting. ltis worth some'hing to get a hold on
that shrewd young thief, who has baflled me for a
can The skies are, growing clearer for Frank
I‘anner. The next point now is to trace the haunts
of Bandy Ben.”

. CHAPTER XIII.
SPRlNGlNG 'rns TRAP.

“RANDY BEN? Do I know him? Well, I should
think so.” And the patrolman of the police force
laughed at the thou ht of how well he knew this
young gentleman. “ ’va been watching the shrewd
ittle rat like a hawk watches a hen. But he's too
cunning; I can‘t catch him tripping.“

“ Do you know his hiding place?" asked Mr. Sharp.
“ That’s what I am after.”

The patrolman shook his head.

“_l’ll tell you what, though," he suddenly ex-
claimed, “there’s one of Bandy‘s gang now. That
tall young coon with the battered beaver. Toppy
Jim is the pretty name he goes by. He’s not very
sharp You can track him if you’re wide awake."

Mr. Sharp at once put himself on the trail of the
youth With the odd nick-name in the hope that he
would be led to tho lurking place of the gang of
young thieves.

But we will go ahead of him, and pay a visit to the
place which he was so anxious to discover, the
domicile of Band Ben and his accomplices.

They Were nig t birds, and were ver apt to be at
home durin the day. With the cxcep ion of ToppY
Jim we fin them all there, enjoying life in their
usual fashion, with pipe, whisky bott e and cards.

Bandy himself was stretched on the floor, with his
heels on achair, smokinga well colored ineerschaum
which seemed a new acquisition. It had. in fact,
been .“conve ed" from some gentleman’s pocket
the m, ‘it be ore, by one of the gang, and won at
cards that morning by B iidy, in his usual fashion
of investing the earnings of ins associates.

“It's a mighty ’ristocratic bit of brierwood,” re-
marked Bandy to his victim, with a cunning leer.
“And smokes to a charm. Pity you didn’t color it
a few, ’l’ore you'i‘mt it n ) on the papers. But keep
nip yer spirits, im. 1‘ gin ye a smell now and
t ien.”

The teasing fellow sent a cloud of smoke curling
toward his discontented victim.

"Dry up!” growled the latter, “or I‘ll bu’st that
there old ipe ,into smithereens. You're a smart
coon, Bani y, but I don't want you to be rubbin’ it
into me. It‘s enough to cheat a chap out of his pipe
without throwin’ it up to me."

“ Who cheated you out of your pi c, you blamed
pile-driver?" roars Bandy, with sudi en an er.

“ You did. You put 11 the cards on me.

“You lie, blast you! {ere‘s your i e."

In an instant the meerschaum was ng across the
room. It tooktlie venturesome youth in the tem-
ple, and sent him and his chair rolling to the floor.

“Smoke that!" cried the belligerent leader. “If
you want any more I‘m yer boss."

Evidently the fallen youth (lid not want any more.
He gathered himself up and withdrew to a side of
the room, growling out in a low tone vague threats
of vengeance

“Anybody else want the‘r rations?" queried Ban-
dy “Jist say the Word, furl don’t want to git up
fer nothin’. All serene, hey? Well, jist hand me
my: pipe, Tom.”

om kicked the pipe across the floor to his lazy
associate. He was not inclined to take 11 the battle
of the ill-treated boy, but there was a fee ing of re-
bellion in his mind at Bandy’s tyranny.

“ That's a blamed perlite way of handin’ a gentle-
man his pilwz': growled the autocrat. “Sec yere,
Tom Tanner, if ye come hocussin’ me ye’ll find ye‘re
barkin‘ up the wrong tree. I ain’t no slouch for you
to wipe. yer feet on._ Hand me a match now, and
sudden too. I’m goni’ to see who’s boss yereawny.”

Tom Very dociler provided the bullv wii h a match.
It was not advisable. just then to kick against his
authority. Gruinblin;r like a partly pacified lion,
Bandy rclit his pipe and ('Oiiimein-o to again send
the smoke of once. eurling tlll'1 inch the room.

“See here, :indy,"nsked another of the party,
“ when are on goin’ to spring the plant? It mOllLZ'llb
be resky to cave the plunder ’round here too long.
And if there’s money in it I want to see the color.”

"Ye want to git a stretch under the screw,”
growled Bandy. “And mebbe git us all nip (1.

ist hold yer bosses. I’m a-workin’ this plant. ait

lie is not your game,

What sort of a leoking

 

till Topp ' Jim comes in and I‘ll post on on the lay.
t stove, Joe, it’s howlin’ co d yere.”

Stirupt

“Who was this ‘

asked s‘andy,uddressing Tom Tanner, whose face
had it Very sour look. “They say tnnt nice brother
of youru is pinched, and as .e’ll git five years tur
our job. it s a ruScully shame, I take it.“

“Siop yer buzzin‘, Saintly," cried Tom, angrily.
“ I hate the stuck-up liiilc rascal like 1 hate lz‘izcn.
Isail a year ago, Wlb n he got me kicked oni o'
doors, as I‘d be even with him, and Phi bound to be.

i li‘d jist do me goiid to have him s: lit to the island

An iiiicresi- ‘

 

 

 

 

 

for live years, and then let him know it‘s me he‘s got
to thank. The little ’ri..iocrutie fool, I said J’d snlt
him, and l'ni bound to do it.“

“ He might sullyou it you let him into the game.

it

 

“Him? He ain’t got the sperii. Why, I li‘lieye l

lic‘d stand on his head for me io-morrou. lle's pm
that kind of a coon. But I don‘t kccr a jig for that.
I hale him and hit goin’ to git even with him, you
)ot.

They Were interrupted by the entrance of Toppy
Jim, who walked in with the. upright attitude and
set-buck shoulders from which he goi his title.

His appearance was the signal for a movement
among' the boys.

" Ilillo, To )py! Where in the thunder have you
been makiu street yarn? We've been waitin’ for
you to hold a council of war. Bandy’s lined out a
fence and we’ve got to 5 )ring the plunder.

“ 'l‘ iat‘s prime,” ejaculated ’l‘oppy, as be poured
“It’s sliivc'fin’

out a deep measure of rye whisky.
Here’s

cold outside, and I want to warm my toes.
luck, and may our uncle bleed kindly.”

He swallowed the strong tipple as if it was so much
water, and set down the glass with a sigh of satisfac-
tion. A conversation cusued as to the best method
of disposing of the proceeds of the robbery.

“I wouldn't trust old Nathans fur nothin’,” rc-
marked Bandy at length. ‘ ‘ He‘s too weak in the

ills. But I‘ve got a man spotted. He’s a prime
once as ‘11 take it dowu like Toppy jist took down
that red-eye."

“ Who is he?” asked Toni, curiously.

“ Don’t ax too many uestions," retorted Bandy.
“Names has to be ke t s ady.”

“ Where is he then ”

“ Here."

It :as not Bandy that answered, but a deep-toned
man’s voice. All eyes turned in afi‘ri lit to the door,
where stood a stout, resolute~looking man. with
other forms in the background behind him. _

The discovered thieves sprung in alarm to their
feet. Bandy leaped from his recumbent attiaude
and faced the interloper with a look of lury on his

ace.

“Who the blazes are you? Git out of this, now.
We rent this room, and won‘t have nobody here we
don’t ax. ”

“Don’t get on your ear,” re lied the man, easily.
“I’m only a fence, you see. ‘ome to takenp that
plant and pay you for your industry.”

“ I‘ll pay you, dan you!"

Before Mr. Sharp, 'or it was he, could defend him-
self, the strong and des crate young rt probate
struck him a fierce blow with a loaded cane, which

he suddenly produced from behind him. The detec-
tive fell like a log and Bandy on him.

“Hurry up, lads!” he shouted. “Stir u the
fire. The room’s cold. I’ll take keei' 0 this

pigeon.”

There was a hidden meaning in his words. In an
instant the boys had flung open a chest, and were
quickly extracting packages of dry oods, which
one of them prepared to force into t e stove. It
was evidently their intention to destroy the evi-
gence against them by burning the proceeds of their

ur a y.

Bigit they had noticed the companions of the detec-
tives. Mr. Sharp was hampered by his antagonist,
but two other men now rushed in and assailed the

b0 5.

They fought with the activity and fierceness of
cornered rats, and two of them had to be floored by
policemen’s clubs before they would yield. _But
the were no match for their powerful antagonists,
am were soon handcufied and helpless.

Not till all the others had been secured was Mr.
Sharp released from his dwarfish but poweiful as-
sailant. The detective had been partly stunned by
the blow, and was only slowly recovering when the
other officers came to his assistance.

But Bandy was too wide awn ke to be easily trap-
ped. Hchail not failed to notice the faie_of his
associates, mid on the approach of the policemen
he sprung alertly to his feet, tearing off his great
coat as he did so. With a sudden swish he flung
this in the eyes of the officers. and instantly darted
through the door. Before they Could recover suffi-
ciently to pursue him he was leaping down the
stairs, three at a time. The door oi the house slam-
med behind him just as the officers reached the
head of the stairs. '

One of them continued the pursuit, while the other
returned to Mr. Sharp, who had just regained his
feet.

“ A pestilent nest of young reptiles!" he growled.
“It‘s a jolly find Burke. If Harry only nails the
one that escaped we will have all the rats in our
trap. And here’s the .)lun(icr. It‘s the Thompson
& Clark job, sure enoue: i. And the desperate rogues
were going to burn the stuff. It’s lucky we took
them at short notice.”

The boy prisoners lay on the floor, gloomy and
defiant. One or two of them showed signs of fear,
but the others were reckless and cool. Toppy Jim
broke intoa lively whistle of defiance. The young
villain seemed to fancy that he had achieved great
distinction.

"Whistle away, my lads. We’ll take some of the
splint out of you be ore we’re through. Which of
you is Tom Tanner?”

 

 

The boys looked at one another, but made no
answer.

“ All right,” continued Mr Sharp. “He can keep

niei if he wants. He carries his name on his face.
bu, my lad, this is a broti.er1y trick of yous. You
thought you \\()ul(l M nd your broihei l(:il.t peniten-
tini'y, tln-n? l li-ul' you \.ill lird lliut ll c vii.) of the
trnnsgiessor is ll.il‘(l. lin.culity Li-v: r pays in tlie
loin: run, as you‘re likely to him.“

“ Burn yer pieuenin,” l‘l'H/l'li‘il the iii yii lding
ingrnie. “Don‘t be liingin‘ lln m ll in) I: u. 1 hate
ti c whole set of them, and] ham l‘.‘illil \: his than
all. 'l'l.c liillc l‘lll ,iiu \uorked me i ll 11 'i 1 lire and
home, and got me into this. lsiicii Iln ii In l c BYE]!
withliim, llllll l \\oi.ld, only llil‘ _\(lli l:i:n i d med-
dlin‘. Bin my turn ‘ll come yil. Ste ill (oii‘t pay
him out."

"llold your ioiiy‘llc, you cruceliis unit-h!" ex-
claimed the officer .in ri,ly. "litre lli it il)ll?g‘ to
Sort-i ii you, and willing lo lake 3 our 1 “Li: in cut on
liimscii‘ to one you; i'lltl tliisis llll 114- ll uni t he gets
for it. He is prid enough, in Laiiiig sin l. 1113 ingiate
for a broihi-r. ‘

Tom relupsi (i into silence and tl:ou;:1.1.l‘nlncss. The
words of the deict the NH nu d to Law ht on strong
elicit upon him. Had they awakened a tense of
iemorse in his 1 cart?

At this momem the other ofiicer rcturncthl ringing
Bandy Ben with him, hrinly handcuffed. Mr. Sharp
started up with satisfaction.

“ So you caught him, eh? That’s good news.
He is the ringleader ot‘ the whole pug. l have had
my eye on you, Bandy. You we re lLO ku n for me,
but you‘ve put your foot in it the lion. Xi.iiwere
too ambitious, my chap. You had best havu kept to
safer lays."

“That he fiddledl” roared Bandy rccklculy. “I
don‘t keer a fig. Only some of thise how (15 has
sold me you’d never cotcheu Bandy Ben. It's that
milk-sop of a Tom Tanner, I s' 1050."

“You liel" roared Tim. “ (u made a thief of
me, Bandy, and now this is my tl am 5'. Izui ye’re a.
liar to the back-bone if you say I sold the. pass. I
ain‘t that kind.”

“ All right, Tom ” replied Bandy. “I d(n‘t.be-
lieve you are. l ta 1: it back. But ther‘s a traitor
somewhere in the cam ).”

“It was (you, thtii,‘ rejoined Mr. Sharp. “Your
efforts” to ispose of these goods put us on your
true '.

Bandy became suddenly silent. He f4 11 convicted
of a link of shrcncness, which to l.ini was the
greatest of human in akntsses.

L‘ut nemust end tlvir scene. The 34111;.“ iri'rlars
were conwycd to the 'lcinbs, ficni Mirth Frank
Tanner was at the sonic. till“ n It used.

Mr. ’lhon 1scnii.s1(cttu the l'(‘(;( rue-(l i. (m s, and
at once decided titt tin-y “ii-c lLUh.( “l .1 li
been stolen from the him of “huh le inn ed a
member. The nhclc tale of 1'i.e ltst “cits was
tl ere, with the exception of cm- packingi , il i.~ icing
the one that had been discovered under Fri. nk Tan-
ner‘s bed. '

There was one other event of F.( me interest, which
took place at a latt r l cur that day.

Mr. Parsons was called into the office of Thomp-
son Ciark & Co.

“You are still sure you were not at Walliick‘s
Eieafier, on the night of the burglaiyi" asked lllr.

‘ar .

“ Yes, sir," answered Mr. Parsons, paling a little.

“Did you ntt stop there, with your cousin, on
your way to the V\ inter Garden?”

Mr. Parsons hesitau d, and grew paler.

“ V\ by, yes, sir, we stopped there tor a minute or
two. Btt we did not go in.”

“ And why did you not admit this, when the boy
claimed to have 8( en you there?”

“ Bi. cause—I thought he meant inside. And I was
not inside, rir. We only stopped in the vestibule."

“That suhttri‘u c will not do, sir," riplicd Mr.
Clark stirnly. “ 'ou intended to iiijiiie the boy
that is very plain. Han.in your villain has turne
upon yourself. You may go, Sll‘. on are no
longer in our employment.”

CHAl’l‘Eli XIV.
WHAT CAME or rr ALL.

THE phrase “railroading” is a wry expressive
mode (f describit the modern way of (1: song with
small criminals. ‘reat rogues are smt to ile peni-
tenlia by stage, and a very slow stage at that,
which ins a bad habit of bl‘( akin r down on the jour-
ney. But small ones are sent t ere. by railioad ex-
press, without any sloppii r at way sin ions.

Such was the mode of cooling with Bandy Ben
and his gang. They were railroadcd to the peniten-
tinry.

The most of than were well known to the olice.
Tom Tanner was one of their latest acmiisitions,
but had contrived, during his year‘s a1.1.i'ei.tiec.~hip,
to make his face fz‘miliar lo the ngledllillS of the
law. As for Bandy Ben he was tco singi lurn figuie
not to be known to them all. But he had w shrewd—

 

i ly made his youthful confederate do his \i'tJ'k as to

leave no opening.r for the authorities. 'l‘ley were
satisfied that he was a thief, but were unable locon-
vii-t him of theft.

It was with satisfaction, ihen, that they fi lt that
they had at last nailed this cunning yoimtr rascal.
The evidence of the robbery was undetiaLlc. Not
only had the stolen goods been found in [(Stt‘SSlOIl
of the gang of boy burglars, but Utl.('l‘ inmates If
the house testified to the late entrance of the boys
on the night of the robbery, apparently carrying
some heavy packages. _

Efforts were also made to trace other points in
connection with the robbery, particularly that con-
cerning Frank Tanner’s connection With it. Old
Tanner was put upon the stand.

 

 

key to be found, and I

s.

“He’s my son, judge," testified the old fellow,
rubbing his eyes as if he wished them to look
watery. “The boy’s my son, but bctuiie you and
me he‘s jest the royalcst young devil's imp as cvvr
kicked a "in’ his own daddy. So 1 wipe my hands
clean of iini.“

“Kecp to the questions,“ remarked the judge
curtly. “ And addrcss your remarks to the jury."

“All right, yer honor. l'ni agrccablc. Let the
legal gcntlenuui pitch ahcad with his rcinarks. l'ni
goin’ to let out the whole job.”

Jacob Tanner lnid evidcnlly primed himself for
the occasion.

“ Go on," said the lawyer, “ and tcll in your own
way where you were, and what happcncd to you, on
the night of the 15th."

“Gentlemen of the jury, on that thcl'c night l was
down to Illicky [<‘lynn’s, a ;,‘,'(‘lll.l(‘lllilll us I ionictiincs
visits. He keeps a very ’spcctablc hotel for tho,
’coniniodation of man and beast, at 97 Small strccl.
It was nicbbe ‘bout ton o‘clock that night whcn I
was settin‘ there by myself thinkiu’, ‘cording to a
way I have.”

« “What were you thinking of?" asked the law-

er.

y “ Idunno as that‘s to the pint. Ilowsomdevcr,
I’m under oath I s’)oso. I wus lookin'_into on
em )ty tumbler, and t iiiikiii’ how I was gom‘ to git
it filled, without no credit. I could see the hotto‘n
of the tumbler considerable too easy; but I couldn’t
see the bottom of the diffikilty.”

There was a slight laugh in tho court-room at this,
which was sternly repressed by the cricrs.

“Jist then," continued the witness, “in bolts my
boy Tom, and orders whisky. I s‘pose I outer or-
dered him out; but he techcd my weak p‘int, gczi-
tlemen, and I guv way. Well, we sot there maybe
an hour, maybe less. I can‘t say as I punishcd
much whisk , but it was powerful smclhn' stuff,
and it some ow got into my intelleck and upsot
meI‘I

“ Go on,“ commanded the lawyer, as the witness
paused.

“Ther ain‘t much more. That little varniiiit was
very kind to take me home, for Iwas a trifle on-
steady. But I'm dcspret afcarcd he went through
my pockets, gentlemen of the jury, for when I
come to the door of in domicile there weren’t no
ad to kick up Mrs. Tanner."

Kick up Mrs. Tanner?" exclaimed the lawyer, in
Sill F158.

“ ‘iguratively, your honor. I kicked at the door
and she come. She asked me somctliin‘ ‘bout the
ke , but it wasn’t thar. That's all I know ‘bout it,
judge; ’cept that, the next mornin‘, there lay the
identical key on the table, where I'll swear on a
stack of hymn books I never put it.”

A few more questions to Mr. Tanner and then he
gave wa to his wife, who confirmed the concluding
points 0 his evidence.

Frank Tanner was next put upon the stand. The
boy was evidently i'catly troubled in mind. llis
face was pale, and t icre was a suspicious ied lock
about his eyes. He could say little in regard to tho
case against Tom. The key was in his pocket when
he came home from the theater, and he found it
there the next morning. As to the package found
under his bed, he was utter] ignorant how it got
there. He slept soundly, an the house might have
been entered a dozen times without his hearing it.

When questioned as to Tom‘s venoral character
and behavior Frank was very litt e disposed to an-
swer.

“He was a bit wild," he testified. “But all the
boys were that, and I don’t know that Tom was
worse than the rest. I always liked Tom, and I
never thought he could do anything bad. "

“But did he not tr ,at you very shabbily sonic-
times? Get into trouble and leave you to fight it out
for him?“ i , .

“Why, all the boys—“ began Drank. Wth an em-
dent dislike to the question. .

“Do not answer,” called out the opposuig at-
torney. “ Thatis a leading question, your honor,”
addressing the judge.

Tue debate on this point ended in Frank’s escape
from the witness stand without furiln r questioning,
at which he was very g ad. It was like pulling eye
teeth With him to have to say anything against

Tom.

We shall not follow the course of the trial further.
It ended, as it was evident it would, in tho convic-
tion of the young criminals. They wore scntcnccd
to moderate terms of imprisonment by the judge,
who read them a sewers iiioral lcssoii on the fatal
and degrading course of life upon which they were
ememig, and warned them that continuaiicn in such
a course would lead them to uttcr ruin and degrada-
tion.

This advice was differently received by the evil-
disposed lads. Some of them appcarcd affected by
it, but the others rcccivcd it with an hnpudcnt
bravado of manner, particularly ’l‘oni ’I‘uiincr and
Bandy Ben who seemed to think it a point of honor
that they should assume an aspect. of iinpcrtiucnt
defiance. ’l‘hey gained but one thing, liochcr, by
this disrespect of the judge‘s well~nieant and llSv-flll
advice, namely, two years of imprisonment more
than was rivcn to their penitent companions. It
was very li {ely that, before their term was HUI. 111W
would repent a few minutes’ bravado so dcai-ly paid

for.

We have but little more to say for them. Our
story is near its termination, and we must quickly
dispose of our characters. As may well be hung-
ined, Frank Tanner’s position was doubly assured
with Th’ompson, Clark & Co. b the )eril which he
had encountered in their serVicc, an the proof of
his sterling honesty. _ . _

They took, thenceforth, a personal interest in him,

Tom Tanner, Scalawag and Scapegraoe.

15

 

 

increased his salary, and advanced him as rapidly
as was desirable in the store. Nor was there any
commission too important to trust to Frank's care,
for they found that his judgment and business ca-
pacity were equal to his integrity.

But there was one point at which Frank put his
foot ilriiily down. Ilc would have nothing more to
do with tho kcy of the store. llc had a private ren-
soii for this which he prcfcrrcd not to nicntiou, and
this was that he distrustcd his fathcr. It was not
his i'athcr's honcsiy, hchw-r, but his caution. that
Frank l'curcd. llc had bccn i'oolcd once through
drink, and might bc again, and it was best toput
dangcr out of his way.

it is not easy to curc an old sore, and Jacob Tan-
iicr‘s love of strong drink was not ovcrconie by (he
pcril into which it had lcd his son. lint he took to

n-having much bet tcr than of old. In fact, he grew
rather afraid of Frank, who was as firm as he was
rcspcctful in any doincstic difficulty. He was, lll()l'0-
over, Vcry proud of his son Frank, and had no word
too sevcrc for that rascal Toni.

“ You needn’t be standin' up for him, Frank,“ he
said. “He's got had blood in his vciiis. It didn‘t
come from inc, and I‘d be sorry to say as it COllll‘S
from his iiiothcr, ’causc thelpoor woman’s long dead
and gone. But it‘s thar, "rank, there’s no goin’
hack on that. You‘ll tind one thing, my boy, the
longcr you day the nine of life, and this is it, that
honcst ‘s t e right )owcr in the game. Jist you
alicrs iold that for or trump card, my son, and
ye‘re bound to win. but rascal Tom t ion ht he
was goin’ to swecp the pool with the left )OWN‘,
which is rascality; but it didn‘t work; he lost the
game. l—Ionesty’s a better trump card than rascal-
itv, Frank, jist you take that in. The right bower ‘ll
adus beat the left, and jist 'ou hang on to the best
-ard, no matter who lays be next best.“

There was very litt e danger but that Frank would
follow this homely but shrewd advice. He saw plain-
1y enough, young as he was, that honesty was the
bcst policy, even if there were no better reasons for
being honest, and he was not at all likely to let go
that sheet anchor of life.

It was a your after the events here narrat d that
Frank got an opportunity to visit his bro her in
prison.

Despite Tom’s crime and wickedness, Frank could
not ct rid of his old feeling of affection for him,
and ioped that he might be able to influence him to
pursue a different course of life.

But such hopes were vain. Tom was bitter and im-
penitent. Prison life, as it so often dors, had made

um harder and more evil (lir'poscd than ever; and
he who had entered it asa boy criminal bade fair to
leave it as a hardened wretch, fit for any deed of
crane.

"Thor‘s no use for you to come here rcachin',
Frank 'l‘anncr," he bitterly remarked. ‘ I‘ve been
made once, and had made maybe, but I don‘t calcu-
late to have you shape mo ovor again. J ist you git
now. 1 didn‘t send for you, and don‘t want you.“

“But, Toni,“ )leadcd Frank, with tears in his
eyes, "just thin what is before you. What can
come of the life you are leading but ruin and misery?
What the judge said is all true, and you know it,
Tom. As father says, honesty is the right bower of
lifg. You’d find it so if you‘d only begin to play
it.

“Yes, dad's mighty smart," cried Tom bitterly.
“ Ho was smart enough to git mo in here. 1 don’t
want none of his drunken 'pi‘cachiii'. I’ll stick to
the left bower, ri rht through."

“Come, come, om, you are only putting this on.
You are not a fool, and you know the difference be-
tween right and wron . I‘d give my right hand to
save you from ruin. Ifyou would only hsteii to me,
Tomi Ifyou would only listen to moi"

There was the ring of true feeling in his voice, and
Toni, hardened as he was, could not help being
ufl’cctcd by it. He looked earnestly at Frank,
licsitatcd a moment and then cried out:

"'l‘hat’s truc, old boy! I must rivc in that‘s true.
Yc‘re made of sound tiinbcr, "rank, and you‘ve
stuck to me like wax. Yc‘i‘e a fool for doin‘ it, for
I‘vc uscd you bad. But there‘s something Solid in
you, Frank, and hang me if I'll ever forgit it. And
now be away with you. If you sta here longcr
thcr’ll only be more prcacliin‘, and {tell you now
that‘s clean wasted. I‘ve got the devil in me, Frank,
aiidyou can‘t prcacli it out."

Frank went away Vcry sorrowfully, though he felt
that something had been gained to make his crring
brothcr display cvcn tliatflittlc show of penitence
and human feeling. _

But it went no further. Tom became more i_ir.-
peniicnt and hardened than cvcr. At the expiration
of his tcrin of imprisonment hcchnt west._ and
{nillt'fl a party of organile robbers in one ot' the

Vostcrn cities.

What cvcntiuilly bci’cllhim is not known. though
there is rcason to bclicvc that he was stabbed by ono
of his villaiin us iissociutcs, in a drunken tight, and
died a miserable (lcath. _

As for Frank be rapidly advanced iii the. chillle
incnt of Thompson, (‘lark 6'; (‘0. HMS-“mi: 1"”111 “110
position of trust to another, until icbcciinu- one of
the most important ptrsons in tlic cstublishmcnt.
He also took the opportunity to com lctc his some-
what neglected education, and to tit iiinscll' for the
grade of society to which his position called him.

He iinnlly niarricd a dunghtcr of Mr. (lurk, and
was admitted to partnership in the firm, of which he
has long remained an honored nicmbcr.

Thus in the life history of these two brothers, who
chose such widely dill‘crcnt paths in life, was fully
exemplified the truth of the good old adage that
“ Honesty is the best policy."

 

 

THE END.

 

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Are presented complete and authentic biographies
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IV.——Ethan .Allcn. X.—’l‘oeumseh.
V.——Mnrquis do Lafay- XL-vAlll‘illlillll Lincoln.

ettc. ' IL—Pontiac.
Vii—Dame] Boone. hHL—Ijlysses S. Grant.
be above publications for sale b all newsd ‘al

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VII—David (‘rockett

 

  

 

 

 

BEADLE’S

HALF-DIME

 

 

LIBRARY. I

 

 

l Deadwood Dick, THE PRINCE OF THE ROAD.
By Edward L. Wheeler.

\ cllowstone Jack. By JOE. E. Badger, Jr.
Kansas King; or, THE RED RIGHT HAND.
By Buffalo Bill Iilon. WIII. l“. Cody).

'I'he “’ild-llorse. Hunters. By (.‘aptain
Mayne lit-id and Captain .lt'rederiek Whittaker.
Vagabond .loe, 'rnE YOUNG WANDERING JEw;
or, l’I.o'I"II.\G Ivoa A LEGACY. By 011 Coonus.
Iiill ltiddon, 'l‘rapper. By E. S. Ellis.

iii-050':

~13

CANT. By (’ol. Prentis” lngralitnn.

Seth Jones . By ltldanrd S. Ellis.

0 Ache-Itures of Baron illunchausen.
10 Nat 'E‘odd. '._\' H. S. lilllis.
11 'I‘lle 'I‘u'o I'l‘li‘t‘ll‘l‘h.
12 Gulliver‘s ’I‘raveh.
13 The Dumb Spy.

7:

By AJV. Aiken.

13v lte'In Swift.

{y Ull (‘oolIII-s.

11 Aladdin; or, ’I‘III: \\'I.NIII;IIEI'I. LAMP.

15 The Sea-('al. By t‘nptnin Fred. Whittaker.

I0 Robinson (‘i-Iisoe. (‘J'i' Illustrations.)

17 Ralph Roy, ’illl". BOY BI‘I'I'ANEER; or, ’l‘IIE
1‘1'UI’11VE YAl‘ll’l‘.

is Sindlmd the Sailor.

19 The l‘hantoln Spy. By Buil‘aiollill.

‘30 The Double Daggers. By 1%. L. Wheeler.

all The. l“i ontler .\ ngel.

'.".’ The Sea Serpent; or, THE BOY ltonINsON
(‘RI'NOI-z. By .lInIII Lewis.

‘33 Nick o9 the Night; or, 'l‘IIE BOYSPY or ‘76.

By '1‘. C. ilnrhantxh.

1 Dial-loud Dir k. By Colonel l’. Ingraham.

5 The Boy t‘aptain. By RogerStarlntek.

0 t‘ioven “out, THE BIII.~I=AI.O DEMON; or, THE

{ BORDER Vt‘L’l‘lliiES. By Edward L. Wheeler.

‘37 Antelope Ala-,TIIE BOY GUIDE. Oll Coomcs.

:28 llull'alo Ben, THE PRINCE OE THE I’IsTOL;
or, IIEADwOOD llit‘K IN llIHtilTlSE. E. L. Wheeler.

339 The Dulnb Page. By Capt. l“. Whittaker.

30 Roaring Ilalph Rockwood , 'l‘ilE RECR-
LESS RANGER. By Harry St. George.

1H Kec-n-Knil'e, PRINCE 01“ 'rnE l’nAIRIEs. By
011 COOIIIes.

32 Bob “’ooll', THE BORDER RIYFFIAN; or, THE
Gnu. DEAD—SHOT. By Edward L. Wheeler.

33 The Ocean Bloodhound. S. W. Pierce.

34 Oregon Sol' or NICK WHIErLEs‘ BOY SPY

ByvCa t. J. F. (. At runs.

35 1 it Ivan, 'l‘llB Boy CLAUDE DUVAL;or, THE
BROTHERHOOD or DEATH. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

36 The Boy (‘lown . By Frank S. Finn.

37 The. Hidden Lodge. By '1‘. C. Harbaugh.

38 Ned \Vylde, 'rHt-I BOY SCOUT. By Tean Jack.

39 Death-Face, THE DETECTIVE. By Wheeler.

‘10 Roving Ben. A STORY or A YOUNG AMERI-
CAN WHO WANTED To SEE THE WORLD. Marshall.

41 Lasso Jack. ByOll Coomes.

>12 The Phantom Minor; or, DEADWOOD
DICK‘s BONANZA. By Edward L. Wheeler.

43 Dick Darling, THE PONY ExraEss Rim-R.
By CD. I. lt‘rederiek Whittaker.

44 “all lug Rube. By ilarrySt. George.

45 Old Avalanche, THE GREAT ANNlllll.AI‘0R;
or, WILD EDNA, THE GIRL BRIGAND. E. L.Wheeler.

46 Glass Eye, THE GREAT SHoT OF THE \VES'l‘.
By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

47 Nightingale Nat . By 'I‘. C. Harhnugh.

~18 Bluek John, Tm: ROAD-AOENT. By Badger.

49 Omaha 011 TIIE MAsKED 'l ERROR: or DEAD-
W001) DICK IN ANGER. By Edward L. Wheeler.

50 Burt. Bunker, THE TllAPPElt. C. E. Lasalle.

51 The Bo Rifles. By Archie C. irons.
52 The “fin to Buil‘alo. By C. E. Lasalle.
53 Jim Bludsoc, .lr., THE BOY l’HENIx; or,
THROUGH To DEATH. By Edward L. Wheeler.
54 Ned Hazel, TIIE BoY 'l‘RApPER; or, THE PHAN-
TOM i’RINeEss. By Capt. J. l“. C. Adams.

55 Deadly- Eye, TIIE UNKNUWN SCOUT: or, THE
BRANDED BILO'IHERHUOD. By Buffalo Bill.

56 Nick “’hiliies’ Pet. Ca It. J. F. C. Adams.

57 Deadwood Dick’s lfiag eI-I' or, TEE PARDs
0F l‘l.00D BAR. By Edward L. Wheeler.

58 ’i‘he Border King. By 011 Coomes.

59 Old Hickory. By Harry St. George.

60 The “’ hite ndian. Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

61 Buckhorll Bill ' or, THE RED RIFLE TEAM.
By Edward L. WlIeI er.

02 The Shadow Ship . By Col. P. lngraham.

63 The. Red Brotherhood. \V. J. Hamilton.

04 Dundiy Jack. By T. C. Ilaibmigh.

65 llurr cane. Bill. BY Jos. E. Badger, Jr

06 Single. lland. By W. J. Hamilton.

67 Patent-leather Joe. By i'hili l S. Warne.

08 Border Robin Hood. By ut‘falo Bill.

69 (it id “File, TIIE SEAhrsnoorEit: or, THE BOY
DE’llCt‘diVE or TIIE BLAIR RANCH. By \Vheeler.

70 out :I.ip’s Cabin; or, THE GREENIIORN IN
'III.; \VoODs. By J. F. t‘. Adams.

71 [Delaware Dick. By ()llCoomes.

7:2 Mini 'l‘om “ester”, TIIE TINAN RANGER;

or, 'lill'. QUEEN 01“ THE l'RAIIIIE. By Hamilton.
3 Le. du'ood Dick on I): ek; or, CALAMITY
JADE, 'rnr: llIcnoINI: or “Door-1.71). By Wheeler.

4 Han 12"t‘)!‘ Harry. By 011 (tomnes.

The “01' “llt‘liSu By Col. 1’. inrraham.

A bet . 11,11“) (‘now-lx'IILER. BY A. W. Aik' n.

Corduroy t‘h' rlie, Till-1 BOY BRAvo: or,

DEADWUUD lnCII‘s LAsT ALT. By E. L. \Vlieelel'.

'31" - Ilt'li. li)’ (‘Illliclin Mayne Held.

Sol Ginger, GIANT ’I' l-‘.‘.l’1’i;ll. liy A.W. Aiken.

Rosrbnd Rob; or. T‘il";til‘.’l‘ .\'I.D, TIII; KNIGHT

or TIIE Ui‘Lt‘H. By i‘hl‘i‘dll‘d l... Wheelet‘.

1 Lightning .1 . in (“ Main J. l". C. Adams.

82 Kit llareloot, Tin-1 \V»)UD~11AWK1 or, ()LD
POWDER-FACE AND 111;»; DLIIIINs. Ly liarhaugh.

83 R0110, the Boy Ranger. lly Ull Counters.

8-1 ldyl, the Girl Elinor. By E. L. Wheeler.

85 Buck Buckram; or, BEss, 'lIIE FEMALE
TRArrER. By Captain J. F. C. Adams.

86 Ddudy leock. By G. Waldo Browne.

0
o.
0
01
u

q

iii-1“ “4‘14

5
0
7
8
9
0

1

l

The Flying Yankee: or, THE OCEAN ()r'r- ‘

’ no

By (‘ol. Prentiss; Ingrahzun. I
. .
Ills Seven Voyages. '

By Edward S. Ellis. I

 

, 150
3 160

87
88

89
90
91
92

93
91

95

The Land Pirates. By Capt. Mayne Reid.
Photograph Phil, THE BOY SLEUTE; or,
RosEIIUD Ron‘s REAPPEARANCE. By E. L.Wheeler.
Island Jinn. By brueehridgo ileinyng.
’l‘hc Dread Rider. By (J. Waldo Browne.
'l‘he. t‘aplain ot the (dub; or, TIIE YOUNG
RIVAL ATHLETES. By Bracehridge lioniyng.

it'LL's CAMP. By Edward 11.\'\v"litit‘lt'1‘.
The. Boy liliucrI-I. iy Edward S. Ellis.
Midnight .l aek, 'rIIE 11()I\1)‘AGEN’1‘;
'l'IIEBOV ’l‘RArrER. By T. C. ilarhaugh.
The lfiival Rovers. Lient. Col. Hazeltine.

or,

The Outlaw Brothers.
Robnn llood, 'rIIE UCTLAWED EARL; or, 'l‘nE
MERRY MEN or (inter 'WUUD. l’rol‘. ('lildersleeve.
The Tiger 01' Tans; or. WILD KATE, DANDY
{OI-R‘s ANGEL. By George WtIldo Browne.

9'7
98

9S

 

v

"1’ ateh-Eye, THE SHADOW. By E. L. \Vheeler. ‘
By J. J. lilarshall. -

‘

Canada (‘nct;>or, OLD ANACONDA IN SITTING ‘

)— I—‘I—I—I— hit-l

100 Deadwood Dick ill LeaJVille; or, A 

STRANGE S'I'RORE FUR LIIIER'I'Y. By Wheeler.
101 Jack llarkaway in New York. By
Broeehrldge lleniyng.
102 Dick Dead-Eye, THE BOY SMI'GCLER; or,
'l‘IIE CRI'IsE 01“ Till: VINEN. By Col. lIIp'I'alInIn.
103 The Lion oi the Sea. By (.‘Ol. DelieSnra.
[0-1 Deadwood Dirk’s Derive; or, THE
105

SIGN ON THE DOUBLE Caoss. By 1‘). L. Wheeler.
old I: "be, THE HUNTER. Capt. ll. llolIIIes.
106 Did Frosty, THE GUIDE. By T. C. llarhangh.

I07 One-Eyed Sim. By James L. Bowen.
108 Daring Davy. By Harry St. George.

Deadw'ood Dick as Detective.
14h [ward L. Wheeler.
110 The Black Steed ol‘the. Prairies. A
Thrilling Story of Texan Adventure. By Bowen.
1 1 l The Sea-Devil. By Col. 1’. Ingraham.
The Mad Hunter. By Burton Saxe.
.l ack lloyle, THE YOl'NG Sl’Et'lrl.A’l'0R; or,
THE ROAD To FORTUNE. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
The Black Schooner. Roger Starlmck.
The Mad Miner; or, DANDY ROCK‘s DOOM.
By George Waldo Browne.
The. llussar (‘a Itain; or, THE HERMIT
0F HELL-GATE. By 01. Prentiss Ingraham.
Gilt-Edged Dick, THE SPORT DETECTIVE;
or. 'l‘IIE ROAD-AGENT‘s DAUGHTER. Wheeler.
\1’ ill Somers, THE BOY DETECTIVE. Morris.
M ustang Sam, THE KING OE THE PLAINS.
By Jars. E. Badger, Jr.
The Branded lland. BV Frank Dumont.
(‘innamon (.‘hip, THE ‘IRL SPORT; or,
THE GOLDEN iDOL 0F MT. ROSA. It‘d. L.Wheeler.
Phil Hardy, THE Boss BOY. By C. Morris.
Kiowa Charley, THE WHITE MUSTANGER.
B T. C. Hat-haugh.
'lippy, THE TEXAN. By George Gleason.
Bonanza Bill, MINER. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
Picayune Pete; or, NICODEMUE, THE DOG
DETECTIVE. By Charles Morris.
\Vild-Fire, Boss OF THE ROAD. B Dumont.
The Young Privateer. By H. ‘avendish.
Deadwood Dick’s Double; or. THE
Gnos'r or GORGON’s GULCH. Ed. 1.. Wheeler.
Detective Dick. By Charles Morris.
The Golden Band; or, DANDY ROCK TO
THE RESCUE. B George W. Browne.
The “auto Hunter. By Ed. S. Ellis.
Boss Bob, THE KING OF THE BOUTBLACKS:
or. THE PAWNEROKER’E PLOT. Ed. L. Wheeler.
Sure Shot Seth, THE BOY RIFLEIIAN; or THE
YOUNG PATRIOTS or THE NORTH. By 011 Coomes.
(‘a plain Pa II], THE KENTUCKY MOONsIIINER;
or, ‘HE BOY SPY OF THE MOUNTAINs. By Clark.
hight-llawk Kit. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
The Helpless Hand. Capt. Mayne Reid.
Blonde Bill; or, DEADWOOD DItK‘s HOME
BASE. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Judge Lynch, Jr. By T. C. Harhaugh.
Blue Blazes; or THE BREAK O‘ DAY BOYS
or ROCKY BAR. By ’Frank Dumont.
Solid Sam, THE BOY ROAD-AGENT; or, THE
BRANDED Baows. By Edward I. Wheeler.
Handsome Barr , TEE BOOTELACK DE-
TECTIVE. By Charles It or: is.
Sear-Face haul. B ‘ Oll Coomes.
Daint Lance, THE OY SPURT. By Badger.
(aptu n Ferret, 1111; NEW YORK DETEC-
TIVE; or, Boss Bon’s Boss JOB. Bv Wheeler.
Silver Sta r, THE BOY KNIGHT. By Coomes.
“’ili “’ild 1i re, TIIE '1‘HoI.OI'GHIIRED; or,
TEE WINNING HAND. By Charles Morris.
Sharp Sam; or, TEE ADVENTURES OF A
FRIENDLEss BOY. By J. Alexanderl’atten.
.»\ (lame of Gold; or, DEADwOOD DICK’S
BIG STRIKE. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Lance and Lasso. By Cnpt. F.WlIittRker.
Panther Paul, TIIE PRAIRIE PIRATE; or,
DAINTY LANCE TO THE RlCStfl‘l-I. J. E. Badger.
lilaek Dev-H, WILL WILDI'IIIE‘s RAlfl-.l.';.(11‘,
WINNING AGAINsT ()DDs. 5y Charles Morris.
Eagl. Kit, THE BOY DEMON. By 011 Coonies.
'l‘he SWord Hunters.
Gold Trigger, THE SrORT. T. C. Harlmngh.
Dead wood Dirk «ai‘ Deadwoed; or,
'l‘III-I PII'KED PARTY. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Ivlike Merry, TIIE HARBOR POLICE BOY;OI',
’l‘IIE NIGHT-HAWKS or PHILADELPHIA. Morris.
Fancy Frank of 1 olorado; or, THE
'l‘RAprER‘s TRI‘ST. By Buffalo iii“.
The Lott Captain; ()l, THE OPEN POLAR
SEA, BY Ca ltlilll Fl'etltd‘llfili Whittaker.
'l he Blue I Giant; or, DAINTY LANCE IN
JL‘orARDY. By Joseph E. BIIng-r, Jr.
New York Neil THE BOI-(iIIII.l.ETEC'TIYE;
or. OLD BLAKESLY‘S lilONIcY. By E. L. Wheeler.
\1’iil\|’ildlire in the \Voods.
Little Texas, THE YOUNG Mom-ANGER.
Tale of. Texan Prairies. By 011 C'OOIIIIN.
Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By G.W. Browne.

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157
153

161

162
103

164

Morris.
A

By I“. Whittaker. .

 

165

1 66
167
168
1 09

170

Billy Baggage, THE RAILROAD BOY; or,
RUN To EARTH. By Charles Morris.
llicJtory llarry. By Ilarry St. George.
A sa Scott, ’l‘IIE STEAIIIIOAT BOY. By Willett.
Deadly Dash. By .Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
'l‘ornado 'l‘om; or, lNJI'N JACII FROM RED
Coat-r. ’l‘. C. llarbangh.

A ’l‘rum p t‘ard; or, WILL \‘.'ILIII‘IRE WINS
AND Losics. By Charles Morris.

Ebony Dan. By Frank llznnont.

'l‘h u ndcrholt 'l‘oni ; or, '1'“ 1-: WOI.I~‘—IIERDER
OE ’l‘llL‘ Roemzcs. By Ilarry St. George.
Dandy [{tbt'k’S Rival. 12y (LW. Browne.
“oh ltoeketl, THE BOY DODGLR. By Morris.
(‘aptain Arizona. ly l’lzilip SWane.
Th“ Boy Runaway ' or, ’l'IIE llI'CCANEER
OE TIIE BAY. Lit-ht. ll. 1). Perry, U.S.N.
Nobby Nick 01' Nevada; 01‘, THE SCAMP
01“ THE SIEIIitAs. By Edward L. Wheeler.
01d Solitary. By()11COOIIIes.

Bob Rockclt, THE BANK llI'NNER. Morris.
The Sea 'l‘raiier; or, A. Vow WELL KEI‘T.
By Lient. 11.1). Perry, U. S. N.

“’ild Frank, TIIE BI'CRsIIIN BRAVO; or,
LADY LILY‘s LOVE. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Little llurrieaue, THE BoY CAPTAIN.
By Oil COOIIIes.

'l‘he Ilidden "and; or, \‘v‘II.I.WILDI«‘IRE‘s
REVENGE. By Chris. Morris.

(a —

Chi-W

Q44“ “*1

¢

77

178
179
180

181
182
183

l 84
TIIE WAR-PATH. By Jos. E. Badge-13.11“.

Evil Eye, KING or CATTLE'l‘nncvics: or, THE
VUL’l‘I‘RES OF THE R10 GIIANDE. By F. DuInont.
(‘ool Desmond; or, THE CAMELER‘S BIG
GAME. By CO]. Delle Sara.

Fred Ilalyard, TIIE LIFE BOAT BOY: or,
'l‘IIE SMUGGLBRS Ol-‘ TIIE lNLET. By C. Morris.
Ned Temple, THE BORDER BOY. Harhaugh.
Bob Rockett, THE L‘RACKSMAN. By Morris.
Dandv Darke; or, ’I‘IIE TIGERS OF HIGH
PINE. By Wm. R. Eystcr.
Buil'aio Billy, THE BOY BULLWIIACKER.
By Capt. A. B. "aylor, U. S. A.
Captain Kit. By Licut. II. D. Perry,U.S.N.
Captain lilask, TEE LADY ROAD-AGENT; or,
PATENT-LEATHER JOE‘S DEFEAT. By Warne.
Bu ll'alo Bill’s Bet. By Captain Taylor.
Deadwood Dick’s Dream. By Wheeler.
Shadowed; or, BOB ROCKETT’S FIGHT FOR
LIFE. By Charles Morris.

Little Grit, THE WILD RIDER. By Ingraham.
Arkansaw, THE MAN WITH TILE KNIFE.
By T. C. Harbaugh.

Featherweight; or,THE BOY CHAMPION
OF THE MUSHINGUII. By Edward Willett.
The Boy Bedouins. By Capt. Frederick
Whittaker.
The Black Hills Jezebel ' or, DEAD-
WOOD DICE’s WARD. By Edward . Wheeler.
Prospect Pete, OF THE BOY BRIGADE; or,
THE YOUNG OI’TLAW HUNTERS. By 011 Coomes.
The Boy Pards. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
Gold Plume, THE BOY BANDIT. Ingraham.
Deadwood Dick’s Doom. A Tale of
Death Notch. By Edward L. Wheeler.

Dark Paul, THE TIGER KING. By C. Morris.
Nava'o Nick, THE BOY GOLD HUNTER. A
Tale 0 Arizona. By '1‘. C. Ilarbaugh.

The Boy Hercules. By OllCoome.
Fritz, THE BOUND-BOY DETECTIVE. Wheeler.
Faro Frank of High Pine; or, DANDY
DARKE‘s GO-DOWN PARDs. By W. R. Eyster.
(‘rookcd Cale, THE CAI IRAN or CELESTIAL
CITY. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

Dashing Daye, THE DANDY DETECTIVE.
By Charles Morris.

Fritz to the Front. By E. L. Wheeler.
Wolfgang TIIE Rl DEER or TIIE RHINE.
By Captain 14 rederick Whittaker.

l‘a itaiu Bullet, THE RAIDER KING. By
'1‘. . Ilarbaugh.

Bison Bill, TIIE PRINCE or TIIE REINs.
By ('01. Prentiss Ingrahaln.

('aptain (‘rack-Shot, TIIE GIRL BRIGAND-
or, GirsY JACK FROM JIAITOWN. By Edward
L. Wheeler.

Tiger Tom, THE TEXAN TERROR. By 011
Coomes.

Dent and the Duelist; or, 'l‘IIE MOUN-
TAIN lVAMDI’REs. By Philip S. Warne.

'I‘Jnl Tanner, SCALAWAG AND SCAPEGRACE.
By Charles Morris.

Sugar (‘oaled Sam ; or. TIIE BLALK GOWNs
OE GRIM Gl‘LClI. By E. L. Wheeler.

:rit the Gambler. By Colonel Prentiss
lnyraliam. Ready October afith.

Ozark AL", KzN: OF THE MOUNTAIN. By
Edward Willett. Ready November 1st.

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A new issue every week.
. The Ilalf-Dime Library is for sale by all
\‘I-wsdcalers, five vents per copy. 01 sent by mail on

receipt of s1x cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS,
Publishers, 96 \Villiam Street. New York.

The Boy Trailers; or. llAlN’l‘Y LANCE 0N

l