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Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y , Post Ofﬁce. Copyrighted 1893. by BEADLE AND ADAM. November ‘. lF‘ ;.
NO  $2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. Price, V 1 
‘ ‘ a Year- No. 98 WILLIAM STREET. NEW YORK. 5 cents- _ 0 ' '

 
Caleb Cinders,
THE NEW YORK CASTAWAY.

BY J O PIERCE,

5/“ . u A, .. 7 I _ I 'v ‘ 
“Ilnummﬁim@ ' ‘ . '   ‘f  AUTHOR OF “ BUCK. THE NEW YORK SHARPER,"
  - / " ‘ ‘  “BOB 0’ THE BOWERY.” “ THE VAOABUND

m.” ‘  ¥ _ _ ,
A um; -   ~ g - ' DETEUI‘IV'E,” ETC., nTc., ETC.

. CHAPTER I.
SOMETHING STRANGELY FOUND.

CALEB CINDERS was a product of the Cit of
New York. Every section of our far-exten '
country has at least one article to which i
points with pride as a notable cro . or product.
Naturally. the Manhattan Island c ty cannot in-
dulge in the vast Wheat-ﬁelds of Dakota. or the
forests of Washington Territo , or, as far as is
known, the gold supply of the est.

Its chief product is in the line of human beings.

 
BE  BEEN SECURELY BOUND BY THE UNKNOWN INTBUDERS, AND NOW THEY HAD and of these it has a largesu ply.
BET FIRE TO THE SHANTY AND BEAT A RETREAT. Among the many thousan a who go to make

 
2 ._

  
no the population of the metropolis, Caleb Cin-
(iev s was a factor. It was the city of his birth,
on i it suited him well. He was a boy with a
history, and the history was as simple and un-
pru (entious as himself. '

liis father had died when he was an infant,
on 1 his mother was left with two children, the
int of whom was a girl six years older than
(‘al :b. Afterward, the widow married again,
auvl, like Maud Muller, many children played at
her (ioor. There Were six by the second mar-
riage.

Caleb was the unfortunate of the ﬂock. The
second husband took a fancy to his stepdaugh—
ter, and a violent and groundless dislike to his
step-son; and, as a result, the boy grew up with
irrefutable evidence always before him that the
favors of fortune were not dispensed with strict
I'm artiality.

he step-father was not rich, but he had
money enough and some to spare, and his own
children had all the necessaries of life and a
good many of the luxuries. Unfortunately, he
could not give them brains,and, though all were
still your g, they were vain, shallow,supercilious
andmcan, as Caleb knew to his cost. They ig-
nored Caleb, at times, and would have abused
him if they had been big enough. As it was, a
complaint from them usually caused the step-
father to abuse him for them.

Caleb’s sister neVer lacked for anything, and,
when still young,she was sent to a girls’ semi-
nary in Massachusetts to obtain a ﬁnished edu-
cation. Before h-‘r graduation Caleb had
ceased to be a member of the family home.

Rehelling against repeated injustice he had,
greatly to his step-father’s relief, begun life for
himself at the age of twelve, and became his
own master. When he was fourteen his sister
returned with a graduation diploma in her hand
and ﬁne clothes on her back.

Caleb called to see her. He came with coarse
well-wornclothing and toil—hardened hands and
his plebeian appearance gave the fair graduate
a thrill of horror. It was dreadful she thou ht,
that such a common person should be her ro-
ther, and she requested him to obtain better 2
clothes.

He, at that time, was working for his board,
his lodging, and a bonus of one dollara week.
Not having the mone to buy ﬁne garments, he
told her that she won d have to take him as she
found him, or not at all. She decided not to
take him at all. A few months later she was
married but Caleb did not attend the wedding,
nor had he seen her since.

At the time when our story begins Caleb was
ﬁfteen years old,and as much cast upon his own
resourCes as though he were an orphan. Scorned
by his sister, and hated by his step-father and
the offspring of the second marriage, he had but
one friend among those of his own blood—his
mother!

Seasons may come and go, kingdoms rise and
fall, and the world change as the helmsman,
Time, directs its course, but a mother’s heart
knows but little change. When forsaken by all
the rest of the world, a mother may be relied
u on.
pCaleb's mother loved him, believed in him.
prayed for him, and would have helped him if
she could. ' She had always done her best to
shield him from harm and abuse, and all that he
was he owed to her when he went out to ﬁght
the world at the age of twelve.

After that she could give only sympathy, love
and encouragement, but it was algood deal, and
she had less cause to worry over him than be,-
fore: he seemed to be doing well in a humble
way. Misfortune had not crushed his spirits; on
the contrary, he was full of life and cod-humor,
and, being both bright and honest, e bade fair
to achieve success in the end. .

For the time being he was in the service of
Irving Proctorham, a wealtyNew’ Yorker. The
latter‘s residence was well up-town, where the
progress of events on Manhattan Island had not
turned the neighborhood into a human bee-hive,
and he had some land and a good many fruit
an i ornamental trees around his house.

He had a man to care for the grounds, and
'Calcb Cinders was an assistant. Caleb’s real
name was Lyons, but it had among many of his
acquaintances, been lost sight of. Among his
other duties he had to care for the furnace, and
some fanciful erson had given him the nick-
name of “ Cin era.” It stuck to him, and he

usually claimed it as his own when asked for his

Caleb Cinders, the New

 
name.
One afternoon Caleb had been away on an er-i
rand. When it was done he returned to Proctor-
ham’s and went about his next job.
In orderto do it he had to enter acertain part
of the stable, but, when he tried to do so, he

 
found the connecting door locked. This sur-
prised him, for it was out of the ordinary course
of events, so he looked for Jason Timms, the
man-of’all-work. to get the key. Jason was not
to be found. Next, Caleb inquired for Mr.
Proctorham, and was told that he was absent.

“ Pretty kittle 0’ ﬁsh!” commented young 5
“ How kin I do the job of I can‘t get :

Cinders. .
in? There’s a mat’matical problem fur you,
Caleb."

Meditation satisﬁed him that there was only
one course open to him. By using a ladder he
could ascend to the loft window, and, from
there, reach the desired quarter.

“ I’ll do it, too,” he decided. “ Might get red
of it, but what‘s the use? it’s got ter be done
some time, an’it won’t do any good ter put it
off. 1’“ go up!”

He found the ladder, leaned it against the
side of the barn. ascended to the window and
euten d the loft. This, like the lower ﬂoor, was
divided into two parts, separated b y a partition
and a door.

A fresh surprise awaited him—this door, like
that below, was locked!

“Walz this is sort 0’ queerl” be observed,
aloud. ‘Somebody has taken a heap o’ trouble
ter shut things up tight, but heres the key.
Wonder of Bluebeard has been here an’ ﬁxed up
a. lot 0’ scarecrows?” .

Smiling at his fancy be unlocked and opened
the door. He had never known this particular
door to be fastened in the daytime. but the fact
that it had been locked on this occasion was
not strange enough to cause him to look around
critically.

He entered briskly, thinking only of his or-
rand, and then recoiled as he almost run up
against another boy. '

He stOpped short and stared in bewilder-
ment.

“ Jim Crickyl” he ejaculated.

The other boy was much younger and much

smaller, than he, being a‘little fellow who did not

look to be overﬂveyearsold, and he made a most
melanchol picture just then. His face was un—
naturally Fongthened, his mouth bore a piteous
expression, and his eyes were red with wee ing.
He seemed just ready toweep again, but de yed
the operation to stare at Caleb. And Caleb was
reat y surprised. The small boy did not belon
the Proctor-ham household, nor had Cale
ever seen him before.

If he had been a tiger, his presence would not

hgive taken the larger boy any more by sur-
so.
p “ Wal, I’ll be chewed l” Caleb ejaculated.
“ Bay, did you blow in here?"

“ ‘hey took me in.” replied the small boy,
with a sob.

“ What—the sparrers?"

“The men did.”

“ What men?” ‘

“ I don’t know.”

“ Got locked in by accident, hey?”

“No; they did it on purpose.”

“ You don’t say sol’

There was a trace of skepticism in Caleb’s
voice, and a good deal more in his mind. Every
natural in ference led him to doubt the statement.
Why should any one lock the be in there? If
he had not possessed an innocent, onest face he
would at once have been set down by Caleb as a
liar of the ﬁrst magnitude. As it was, the larg-
er boy was doubtful. «

“ D’ 6 live around here?” he asked.

“ I on’t know where I am,” was the quaver-
ing reply. -

Then how’d you get here ?”

“ I went out you the street, and some men
grabbed me and put me in a wagon, and brought
me here.”

.“ Where d’ye live?”

“ Up in the street where the lame boy lives.”

,Caleb shook his head.

“ ’Tain’t hardly exact enough, my frien’.
What’s yer name?” I _

“ Allan Garland.”

“ Got any fathers or mothers?”

“ l’ve got one mother.”

“ Everybody ain’t got so many as that. So
some men g‘rabbed you an’ brung yo here.
Didgt ‘ you oller, an’ kick, an’ raise a rum-

us i
" I told them I didn’t want to come, and I
cried, but they wouldn’t let me go,” mournfully
explained Allan, as the tears began to course ra-
pidlv down his cheeks again.

“Remarkable case b’jinksl Here me an’ the
other tax-payers o’ ew York hire all the big
men we kin ﬁnd ter he perleecemen, an’ pay
them bang-upwages, but a. youthf citizen kin
be kidnapped right under our u an’ locked
up in a stable. v ’Tain’t’cordin’ter the Monroe

York Castaway.

 
doctrine an’Jeifersonian principles, an’ I feel
ashamed. Wal, my frien’ you shall be returned
ter your home-base, but Ive got tor ﬁnd out
where ’tis, ﬁrst-off.”

Caleb undertook to gain this information, but
succeeded only poorly. Allan was too young to
possess the necessary facts. He stated that his
father was dead; that his mother was named
Mrs. Garland; that they had lived until recent—
ly in a remote place, the name of which he could
not tell: and that they had lived since coming
to New York in a. street where the houses were
very big, and where there lived a lame boy, ni-
so, but what the name of the street was he could
not tell. in brief, there \\ as no ciew except his
own name and his mother’s. ,

Caleb could not imagine why the boy had been;
locked up in the stable loft, or who had done it,
but he was determined to see Allan out of his
trouble.

It did not occur to him to take his companion
to the nearest police-station, but, accustomed to
rely on himself, he now acted according to the
usual rule.

“ Tell ye what I‘ll do,” he said; “in ’bout two
hours I shall be done with my day’s work, an’
then I’ll ut ye all right. Ef I left here afore
the usual our I'd ketch a blowin’ up. for irving
Proctorham is a mighty hard man for git along
with; but when I’m off duty we’ll jest strike out
fur your marm’s house. You‘ll know it when
you see it?”

“ Oh! yes i” cried Allan, brightening up.

“ J es’ sol Sartain! I thought so,’ Caleb
agreed, cheerfully. "‘ Them eyes 0’ yourn is
bright as a real diamunt ring, an’l s’pect you’re
a clipper when you ain’t off yer feed. now
how ter feel' fur ye, for I was oung, myself.
once. Come on, my frien’, an’ I’ 1 help ye out 0’
your diﬁikilty, sure pop!” ,

CHAPTER II.
A DANGEROUS ENEMY.

THERE was something very cheerful and en-
couraging in Caleb Cinders’s manner, and the
small boy’s heart swelled with gratitude and
joy. Small as Caleb himself was, he looked to
Allan like a rock against which he might safely

 
lean. .

' Caleb had already formed his plan. .His com-
panion must have a refuge until such time as he
could start out, and this refuge could not be on
the Proctorham premises.

He did not believe that the house-servants
would be willing to receive Allan, and if they
were there would be trouble if Irving Proctor-
ham learned that a stray boy had been taken in.
The master of the place was a severe and selﬁsh

‘ man who had no sympathy to give to any one.

After considerable trouble Allen was assisted
down the ladder in safety, and then Caleb took
his hand and they started to leave the grounds.
But they were not to get away without trouble.

They were moving toward the street ’along a.
winding. tree-shaded path when a form loomed
up in their path which was larger than Leta
ha 3, combined. v

{t was Irving Proctorhaml

Cinders knew at the start that there would be
trouble. A stranger on the grounds was the
austeregentleman’s pet horror. and a stranger
in charge of a hired youngster like Caleb Would
be to him like a red ﬂag to an ill-tempered
bovine.

The ﬁrst thing Mr. Proctor-ham did was to
look astonished; the next was to scowl like a.
pirate. Then he sharply demanded:

“ What’s this!” . ‘ '

“It seems tor be a boy, air.” quoth Cinders,
151'in to be ver polite and pleasant. .

‘ hat is he 0 ng here?”

“ He’s goin’ out.” '

“How dared you brin him here at all?”
“’1‘wa’n’t me who di it. ’Twas somebody

‘ else, an’ they shut him up in the stable; but he
couldn’t feel reconciled ter being either a. hose or I

an ox, so he wanted ter git out—” - .
“ Shut him up in the stable! Who did it?”
“ I don’t know—”
‘ “ Bo , how dared you go near my stable?”
> Mr. torham ﬂung out the inquiry with a,
00d deal more of noise than was necessary, and
ghe acowl on his face was so alarming that
Allan, instead of answering, nestled closer to
Caleb and began to cry again. i
“ Didn’t I tell ye somebody brought him i"
qusigﬁy’, returned Cinders. ‘ He didn’t come
hi '

“Did you brln him?” "

“Hev I lost t e roodiments o’ the English
iangua e,that I can’t make myself understood?”
demon ed Allan’s champion. “ Some men that
{he didn’t know abductioned him, bro
here an’ shut him up in the stable; an’ t he

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would ’u’ stayed of I hadn’t climbed upa ladder,
got inter the loft an’ helped him.”

“ Why did you climb up a ladder?”

“ Because the doors was locked.”

“ You found the stable locked and went in by
a ladder, ehi How dared you do that? Don’t

ou know that was a penal offense? It was
1breaking and entering, boy."

Caleb was beginning to lose Lia usual good
lillznot'. '

“ Seems ter me you’re hard ter suit!" he re-
torted. “ D’ye Want this young infant ter stay
locked up in that measly hole?”

“ I want him to stay away entirely, and 1
want you to know your place i” retorted Proc-
1torham, as intemperately as before. “ You had
no more right to enter my stable as you did
than you would have to enter my sleeping-room
at night.”

“ Ef you remember you tol’ me ter do a sar—
tain job Mr. Proctorham, an’ the only way fur
me ter do it, when I found the Stable locked,
was ter get the tools jest as I Set out ter do.”

“ That is no excuso, and I cannot tolerate
such work. You are no longer in my ser—

- vice !"

ti  g"

“ I discharge you!”

“ Oh! you do!”

“ Yes, 1 do! And, what is more, the police
shall look into this case. I will say, frankly,
that I do not believe a Word of your story.
That unknown men could bring a boy here and
lock him up in my stable—even if they wanted
to, which they certainly would not—is absurd.
I shall call a policeman and give you both in
charge!”

Caleb was dumfounded. He knew that Proc-
torham wasa hard man to deal with, but this
was more than he had expected.

“Is this the way you deal .with your hired
help?” he returned, quickly.

‘ You are no longer in myservice; I have dis-
charged you; but 1 will say that when my hired
help descend to robbing me, they get arrested.
I will call a liceman at once l”

He starts down the nth to the street while
Cinders, still holding Al an’s hand, looked after
him in bewilderment. It would not take long to
call an ofﬁcer, and than, plainly, the two boys
would be arrested.

Little Garland was or ing harder than ever,
for stern and savage rvin Proctorham had
frightened him almost out of is wits; but, after
a moment, a ﬂush of indi ation Colored Caleb’s
cheeks, and a sparkle of eflance showed in his
6 68.

y“ Elev us arrested. will he?” cried the youth.
“ Wal, mebbe he will, but he’s got ter ketch us,
ﬁrst. We will run, that’s what we’ll do!”

“,He will stop us if we go that way.”

“We ain’t goin’that way; 1 don’t know of a
worse lace ter hide than in the streets. Mister

‘Man t nks he‘s got us foul, an’ that we can’t

et out no way except the way he’s gone. We’ll
ghow him! Come on!”
Grasging Allan’s hand tightly he hurried him
along )Wﬂl‘d the rear of the grounds. There
was a high fence at that point, and an intricate
area beyond, and a person of mature years
would have despaired of escaping by such an
avenue- but to a boy all places are open and ca-
pable of being traversed.

Caleb did not intend to get locked up.

The ladder which had once before been so use-
ful to him was again brought into use. He
leaned it against the high fence, and after eon-
siderable trouble he and his charge reached the
other side.

Their troubles were not over, for other houses
and other yards surrounded them, but Cinders

‘knew of the nooks and crevices as well as the
cats and dogs of the block did; and after a
surprising scramble through holes and hedges,
over fences and through fences, they reached the
next street.

“ So fur, good. but we ain’t safe yet,” the
guide commented. “ We are now reg’lar cast-
aways. We ain’ ot no heavin’ seas an’ rollin’
billers under us, liEe nautikel sailors hev but
we’re castaways in the big city 0’ New York.
You’re lost, an’ I’m out o a job. Melancholy
sittervation! How a philanthropast would
weep fur us—ef he had time! Game on, teller-
MWEY. an’ I’ll show yo 3. harbor whar we km
droE anchor fur a. riod 0’ time i”

T e “ Castawa ‘ had not been§coniinin his
efforts to words, at while he spoke in the w im-
sical fashion peculiar to him, had been hurrying
Allan alouig. .

He had ec1ded to take him to the same place

. ' before considered as a refuge, and the journey

was not 10%; ‘
InNew ork men have strange bed-fellows,

 
Em

and the change from wealth to poverty is often
surprising. One block may be the abode of
aristocrats; the next that of the humble poor.
In no otlu-r city in America will an observing
traveler see more abrupt and unexpected tran—
Bitions.

Proctorliam was wealthy, but it was only a
short distanci- to where a very unromantio coul-
yard occumed a small space in a modest way,st
though offering a mute apology for existence.

Into this yard (‘inders conducted his compan-
ion, and his face brightened as he sawa fat, rod-
faccil man standing b the shed.

“ Hullo, strangerl‘ cheerfully greeted this
man, his expression and manner jolly in the ex-
trcme.

“Say, Mr. Peach !" cried Caleb, “can I leave
this boy hero?”

“ It ain’t a parcel office, and I can’t give ye no
check for him.”

“ But kin he stay?"

“ Certain. But why i”

“ We’re in trouble!”

“ You don’t say so! What’s up i"

Caleb told the story rapid] , and had an at-
tentiw: li -tl‘ll9r. Horace 1 one was a poor man
who di l Uniy a small business, and worked hard
at that, but he had a heart as big as his body,
metaphorically Speaking. and was always ready
to help the needy and unfortunate.

lie and Cinders had struck up a friendship
since the latter came to the neighborhood, and
he was favorably impressed by Allan's appear-

ance.

Plainly, the be was no vagabond.

“ Mi hty odd !’ observed Mr. Peach.
should roctorham cut up so rusty ’l”

“ lt’s born inter him.”

“He ought tor get rid of it by an emetic.
But that ain’t to the point; we’ve got this lad
on our hands, and must see him out 0’ his
scrape.”

Peach then uestioned Allan as Caleb had
done but utter y failed to learn where he lived.
A lhrectory was consulted without any good
reSult, and they were left to face the fact that
the boy lived somewhere in New York—but
where?

“ The police could ﬁnd out the quickest,” Peach
remarked, thoughtfull

“ But ’twon’t do fur in) tor go ter them, for
Proctorham Will have him arrested,” urged Cm-
ders.

“ Fact! He’s in a bad way—and so be you.
Out 0’ work, are you i”

“ I he; 1 now sign myself ‘ Cinders, the Cast-
away: residence, the streets 0’ New York.’
That’s all the home I‘ve got just now, but, jum-
pin’ wildcatsl I don’t mind it! l’m like the
nine-spot in a game 0’ eucher; I git throwed out
ev’ry discard, but I’m as apt tor be a trump as
the right bowker. Never mind me; what about
mypmtcgem 3’”

each scratched his red nose, and thereby left
a streak of coal-dust on it”

“ We’ve got ter pursue a decided course,” he
re lied. “ If I had a cab, or private equipage,
I‘ go streakin’ it all over New York, but, as I
ain‘t, we must do the next best thing. I have
just hitched up to go down-town a ways to get
a load, and PI take you two boys right in, and
Allan shall look for his mother’s house as we
drive.”

Young Garland again grew cheerful, but the
"Castaway ” looked doubtful. I’cacn’s horse
was a heavy animal, and the wagon was of the
sort commonly used for drawmg coal. It was
not a turn-out which could cover ground very
rapidly.

“Get right in,” added Mr. Peach, “ an’ ofl’ we
3).

Caleb still had his doubts, but he yielded with-
out argument. only stipulating that they should
keep away from the section where Proctorham
and his searchers were likely to be encountered.

All three climbed up on tho coal-cart, Peach
craciked his whip, and they moved out of the
yar .

The Castaway was the only one of the trio
who was not cheerful at that moment, and,
when he had looked both ways and failed to see
a policeman or his late employer, he felt re—
lieved for the time being. But he could not
banish the fear of trouble to come.

For several blocks all went well, and Allen
was kept busy looking for familiar objects—
only Caleb seemed to realize how much the
chances were against them—but the' progress of
the heavy old horse was very slow, indeed, and
the coal-cart rumbled on as though a world of
time was at their di al.

Several times the astaway looked back, and
he ﬁnally grasped Peach’s arm suddenly and
tightly.

“ Why

 
, the New York Castaway. 3

._ m. _._-.._...~

 
“ Say, d’ye see that?” he asked, ewitedly.

l” A carriage and two bosses—yes! ’ l’oach re-
p icd.

“ That’s Proctorhum‘s turn-out l”

H N” P)

“ Yes, ’tis; an’ they’re chasin’ us!"

The coal-dealer heard and believed. The
other vehicle, though some (lisimice away, was
rolling rapidly after them, “bin-.5 three yards
to their one, and, judging by appearances, mak-
ing an effort to overtake them.

“ ’l‘nero’s Proctorham on the box!” Cinders
added.

“Uh! he will catch me!” cried Allan, in ter-
ror.

“Not much!” sturdily declared Peach. “ Ef
he was rich as Solomon, I’d lam him with this
whip if he tried it—but I guess it would be bet-
ter ter try tor dodge.”

He turned the team into a side-street as he
ipoke, and then applied the whip smartly to his

orse.

“ Now for a trick 1” he added.

 
CHAPTER III.
RUN Down!

PEACH was well aware that any attempt to
outstrip the pursuers in a race would result in
complete failure, but his ready mind had seized
upon the one chance open to them. Not much
further did he go, but, instead, turned 'into an
alley where a small business was done at the
rear, and, having driven behind the front build-
ing, awaited the result.

A short time passed, and then the pursuing
carriage appeared. Proctorham sat on the box
with the driver, and his gaze was bent straight
ahead, with an eager, ominous expression on
his face.

(A 
audible to the objects of his pursuit.
run them down if I kill my horses!”

Another moment and they were invisible from
the alley. Peach saw that Allan was trembling
Eiticflully, and he laid his big band on the child s

m 0
“ Brace up, my little man!” he directed,
heartily. “ The mean skunk ain’t got you yet,
an’ be sha’n’t get you, by sixty!"

on the whip!” he cried, in a voice
“ I will

“ Them is the facts.” corroborated Caleb.Cin- '

ders. “ Pretztorham is mean, an‘I always knew
it, but I think worse 0’ him now.
ler his am about thinkin’ we had been robbin’
him; I‘ 1 bet he could tell who looked ye up -in
the stable, but why ’twas done is a pernicious
m are .”

0' time was allowed to go to waste, and as
soon as the carria e was out of sight, Horace
Peach drove out o the alley. He showed his
shre wdness by deliberatelyl retracing their steps
for two blocks, after whic ho branched of! in a
new direction.

Unlessthe pursuers penetrated the late arti-'

flee they would not be likely to look in that
quarter. .

While the rattled away in the fashion cu-
liar to coa ~carts, Peach did some thin ing.
What was to be done with Allan Garland?

He was a lost child, and they could not ap ly
to the police, since Prootorham had probably
attached them to his cause by making a false
charge of burglary against the boys. Allan
could not find shelter with Caleb, for the latter
had no home; he could not go with Peach, for
the coal dealer’s house was likely to be invaded
by Proctorham’s assistants.

IIOWever, Peach had a sister. and he decided
that it would be best to take the child there.

With this idea in mind he held to a certain
course, while Allan looked eagerly at each new
block which they passed. As time passed and
they saw no signs of his mother’s house his face
began to grow long and tremulous, and it need-
ed all of his companion’s kind words to keep
him up. .

A change was at hand,though, and it came
so sudden! as to startle even level-headed
Caleb. Sundenly the child gave a great leap,
and then stretched out both of his arms.

“ Mamms l mamma l"ho cried, wildly; “ there’s
my mother!"

Peach pulled up his big horse with a motion as
sudden as it was impulsive, and looked mechan-
ically in the same direction that Allan was look-

in .

he saw a lady and a gentleman standin on the
steps of a lain brick house, equipped or the
street. Al an’s cry had reached their ears, and
both had turned their faces. The rhscovery af-
fected them as much as it had done the child,
and the lady too stretched out. her arms;
and then, her face lighting up with joy, she ran
down the steps. .

i .- ,.
‘;‘L:ﬁ;4 . .  

I don’t swal-'

1'.
I“'
-m. ...

“43"

r 1‘4“ v":

 
4

 
CalebﬂCinders, the New York Castaway.

 
“ It’s my mammal” repeated Allan, almost
dancing with joy.

Peach and Caleb were greatly relieved, and
the latter sprung to the ground and assisted Al-
lan down. A moment later and he was clasped
in the lady’s arms, while the gentleman came
forward more moderately.

“My friend,” he said to the coal-dealer, “it
appears that we owe you a great debt of grati~
tudc.”

“ Be you the boy’s father?” asked Peach.

“ No; but this lady is his mother.”

“ Well, I’m right glad to hear it.
that she lives 6”

"No; she lives a mile away; but when Allan
was known to be missing she came here to ask
my aid. The child wandered away—”

“ He don’t say so!”

‘ ‘ N 0?”

“ Say 3 he was kidnapped.”

“ Is it possible?”

“ ’l’ears like it.”

“ That is strange—but come inside, and let us
hear your story. Our thanks are in order, and
I do not think you will ﬁnd us ungrateful.”

“ I guess not ; but it ain’t me who deserves the
gratitude or can tell the fullest story. Here’s a
youn man, Caleb Cinders by name, who has
done it all, and who—”

“ Draw’r it mild, Mr. Peach,” suggested the
Castaway.

“ Don’t ou dispute me, Cinders!” retorted
Peach, sha ting his whip at Caleb in mock men-
ace. “ I don’t allow any person to dodge credit
for his good deeds. Sir,”— to the stranger—
“l’m in a hurry an’ hate ter stop; an’ this lad
bun tell you all I know and more.”

“ Then we will excuse you, my dcar sir. "

And so it came about that Peach mounted to
his seat and drove away, while all the others en-
tered the house. Allan had recovered his usual
spirits, but clung fast to his mother, and she, as
80011 as she could think of anythinghexcept the
boy, showered the Castaway wit grateful
thanks.

The gentleman, however, while he showed
sincere relief, looked at the practical side of the
question.

Cinders was given a seat in a fairly-furnished
parlor; and he acce ted the situation as hilo~
sophically as thoug ho had been in orace
Peach’s coal-shed.

“Now, young man,” said the stran er, “we
will ﬁrst of all, introduce ourselves. his lad
is Mrs. Claribei Garland, Allan’s mother; and
am Alton Norway, a family friend.” '

“ Mamma likes him real well i” put in Allan,
with the embarrassing frankness of children.

Mrs. Garland blushed; Norway smiled, glanc-
ed at the comely widow, and continued:

“ Now, Allan, tell us how you were lost.”

The boy made the statement in detail. He
had been allowed to go out on the porch of his
mother’s house, and, when an Italian came alon
with a hand-organ and a monkey, he had to -
lowed to the corner. There he had been seized
by two men, placed in a cab driven away,
taken to Proctorham’s and locked up in the
stable. The men had been rough men, with
beards, which was all the description he could
give of them. .

Caleb was ihen called upon for his story,
which he gave in plain terms, but without any
effort or intention of making himself a hero.

He won Mrs. Garland’s hearty thanks, which
was very pleasant, as she was a charming lady
who, obviouslv, had not seen more than twenty-
ﬂvezyears of lie. Alton Norway was, perhaps,
three ears her senior. Norway meditated
deeply or awhile, and then broke forth with the
sudden uestion:

“ Cale , what do you think of Proctorham’s
conduct in this matter?” ,

“ He acted mean as p’isonl” Cinders de-
clared. ‘

“ Do you suppose he thought a mere child like
Allan to be a t ief?”

“ He was a crank cf he did.”

“ It seems suspicious to me.”
“ Me too!”

” In what way i”

“I can’t see, declared the Castaway, “why
total strangers should look him up in the stable,
unless Proctorham told ’em to.”

Norway turned to Mrs. Garland.

“ Do you hear that, Claribel l” he asked.

“ What do on mean?”

“Simpl y t at this aﬂair is very strange.
“:13 should Allan be abducted? You are not
w thy and no large ransom could beeercted.
You will remember that, a‘ few mont l ago

So it’s here

there was a circumstance which, I told you at.

the time, was anattempt to get your childaway.

 
Now, another, bolder effort has been made.
What was the object?”

Norway spoke gravely, solemnly, and Mrs.
Garland changed color and trembled percep-
tibl y.

“ What do you think i” she asked, faintly.

“ You remember the mystery in your own
life ’6”

it Yes.” -

“ I think you will do well to let me investigate
it, now.”

“ Surely, you don’t think—”

“I cannot help thinking that this bold oui'r
rage of to-day is very suspicxous. As long as
you stayed away from New York, all was well;
as soon as you returned, the circumstances
changed. I may be wildly imaginative, but I
cannot help thinking that the same powers that
darkened your own youthful days are again at
work. Moreover, I suspect this Irving Proctor-
ham. Consider how absurd it would be for the
kidnappers to lock Allan up there unless Proctor-
ham was in the plot!"

“ He shall not get my child again i” cried Mrs.
Garland, whOse mind ran in a parental, rather
than an analytical channel.

“ I think that the char 9 of robbery was a
sudden thought of Proctor am’s, to get an ex-
015818 30 get Allan again in his clutches!” Norway
8 < e .

“ Shouldn’t be a tall s’prised,”agreed Cinders,
with a nod. “ The way the ant broke out was
amazin’, an’ I hev thought al along thar was a
loose screw.”

W hile they talked Norway had heard the door-
bell ring, but had paid no attention to the fact.
At this juncture, however, there was a knock
at the parlor-door, and a servant appeared, a
troubled look on her face.

“ If you please, sir, there‘s a gentleman—”

She was pushed aside, and a. man abruptly
entered the room. Hepaused and swept a glance
around and Allan uttered a cry of terror and
clung tightly to his mother.

Caleb Cinders started up in surprise which
was not unmixed with trepidation. I‘he uncere-
monious intruder was Proctorham!

CHAPTER IV.
THE EVIL GENIUS cunts ram BOYS.

THERE was a brief, ominous silence. Proc-
torham looked angry and ugly, as much as
though he intended to crush every one present.
If he had taken a careful look around the room,
he mi ht have read in certain faces there, it is

ib e, that he would not have everything all
is own way. .

He did not wait. He leveled one ﬁnger to-
ward Allan, and vehemently addressed Allan’s
mother.

“ Woman, put that child down!” be ex-
claimed. “ You do not know the viper you are
$11!}?3ding. Beds a precocious and dangerous

6 . .

Mrs. Garland turned very pale and had no
voice to speak, but Alton Norwa took two
ion): steps and reached Proctorham 3 side.

‘ You scoundrell” he cried, in an intense
voice, “how dare you intrude in my nouse like
a rioter?”

Imogen-ham quickly removed his hat.

e
abrupt,’ he answered, with a good show of po-
liteness. “I meant no harm, but my feelings
carried me away. Allow me to say that you
do not—cannot know the two boys whom I see
here. . They are old, cunning thieves i"

I: Have’they stolen from you i”

“ What have they taken?”

“ A watch which I left in a vest, hung up in
my stable.”

“ Do you mean to say that yonder child. who
is scarcely more tbanan infant, is a thief i”

horway’s voice rung out indignantly, but
Proctorham retained his mask of liteness.

“ He is much older than he coke, and has
had a long schooling in crime by one of the old
pickpockets in New York. My dear sir, I do
not blame you for being deceived; his appear:
ance is yer deceptive. You do not know his
history as do, or you would not have taken
him into your house. His father died a death
of violence: his motheris even now serving time
in Sing Sing as a thief and an ally of burglars
who, did murderl”

The boldness and directness of this charge al-
most took Caleb Cinders’s breath awa , but it
{1:316 the very opposite elfect upon . Gar-

 
Bhe cease'l to newer back and tremble for
Allan—she arose with the boy in her arms, and,
confronting Proctorham with the dauntless
front of an old-time heroine, and the indigna-

your pardon, sir, if I have been too,

 
tion of a slandered woman, retorted in a clear
and ringing voice:

“ 811', [am the boy’s mother!”

As quick as the lightning's ﬂash did Irving
Pi‘octorham’s manner change, and the change
was as radical as that made by a cyclone. One
moment he was erect, bold, confident and im-
pressive; the next he wasa dumi‘ounded, Speech-1
less craven.

Mrs. Gar-land’s declaration appeared to take
him wholly by surprise. r He started back as
though he had received a blow ; his eyes dilated
with alarm; his belligerent hands fell nerveless
by his side; his color began to come and go ﬂt—
fully; and, in every way, he betrayed the deep-
est surrrise and consternation.

Caleb Cinders felt like dancing a jig. It
ﬂashed upon that astute youth that his ex-em-
ployer had “put his foot into " it in the worst
wa _

I nquestionably he had not suspected that
Allan had found refuge with his own relatives,
and this made it look as though he had known
where the Garlands lived, and had thus been be—
tra ed into a fatal error.

6 had not imagined that the mother would
be in a house a mile from her own home.

After a little while he began to recover his
wits, to try to hide his dismay and command his
voice, but he stammered and talked at random
when he spoke.

“ Are you—did you—did I understand you to
say—to say you were his mother i"
la ‘dI am his mother!” coldly replied Mrs. Gar—

n .

“ And you, scoundrel, have made yourself
liable to prosecution i or libel by saying that she
was a convict in Sing Sing 1" sternly added Nor—

wa .

lyroctorham pulled out his handkerchief and.
mapped his perspiring brow.

‘ here is a mistake—a great mistake!” he
protested, feverishly.

“ You are right, sir i” Norway retorted.

“ It’s a different boy.”

“ Indeed!” I

“ A case of mistaken identity.”

“ When did the mistake begin l”

“When I saw him on my premises, and
thou ht that he was a boy named Tom Huse.”

“ erhaps you can explain how he came to be
locked in your stable l”

“ That 8 very mysterious.”

“Isit soto you!”

“ Certainly—of course. The boy Caleb told
me about it, but I did not credit it then.
Locked in my stable, was he! Odd, decidedly l”

Proctorham was beginning to recover his
coolness, and he was acting very well the part
fvivhich, clearly, he must assume to get out of his

x

Norwa was not deceived. He understood a
good den and suspected more, and feltsure that
the visitor was a scoundrel who had overreached
himself. If he had acted on impulse Norway
would have accused him, and driven him from
the house, but the young man was shrewd, as
well as clear-sighted, and having an ob 'ect Ip-
on which to turn the suspicious of an o d case,
he was disposed to go carefully on and reveal
nothing.

If there was ground for his suspicion, the'
best W3 was to let Proctorham think they were
deceiv .

“ There must be some explanation of the
fact,”guardedly answered Norway, to the last
remarks.

“ I remember that Caleb said the child was
locked in the loft. Possibly the guilty persons
thought we would not go there, ourselves.”

“You may be ri ht. ’

“ That is undou tedly it,” Proctorham do.
clared, with the air of a man who had solved a
mystery. “I will inquire if suspicious persons
have been seen around my premises, and report
the result. This, however, does not excuse me
for my violent conduct here. Madam, I am.
dee ly ashamed l" ~

g; had turned to Mrs. Garland, but she had
lost her Voice once more. Norway warned her
with a gesture. and answered for her:

“ Mistakes will occur, sir."

" But 1 was tively bru .”

-“We must a ow something for impulse.”

“ You see. I followed the coal-cart, and, learn—
ing that it stopped here, and behaving that this

r child was Tom Huse, the thief I made a

lunder for which I am ashamed—shocked! I
dare not ask forgiveness, but I do regret it
dB'I‘hly‘” k reparin t,

a span er was p an way on
and Norway accommodated him. 0 assure
him that he was freely, fully forgiven would be
to overdo the matter, and betray the deception;

 
.A u.

" -. ‘ ._,. -~ ...- m..- .

Caleb Cinders, the New York Castaway.

.... . ...T... —. . .i....

 
so Norway ado ted,,a.'middle course and politely
. but rather eel y, assured him that no one cou d
‘be ex ted always to be right.

An so‘, after a good deal of talk, and another
apology, Irving Proctorham got out of the house
as a skillful and cunning man can, even when he
feels upset.

Norway saw him off, and then returned to the

riot.

“ Oh! wh did you let him go?” Mrs. Garland
demanded olding fast to her child.

“ I could not detain him Claribel.”

“ He spoke falsely; I know he did. Even
when he was apologizing, he looked at Allan in
a way which made me shiverl”

“ ' here was a lurkin’ devil in his eyes!”

This verdict came from Caleb Cinders. The
Castaway had been ve ry willing to let others do
the talking,aud had kept well back—so far back
that, be correctly believed, Proctorham had
actually forgotten him, in tho trepidation did
dismay of his blunder.

The visitor had gone without a parting refer-
ence to Caleb, and it was simply because he did
not think of him.

“ You agree with me?” cried Mrs. Garland.

“ I do, mum!” Cinders asserted.

“And so do I,” added Norway. “It was be-
cause I thought as you do that I used him so
well. We could not have him arrested, certain-
ly; and it was well to blind his eyes to the
truth.”

“ The-1’s the ﬁgger!” the Castaway exclaim-
ed. “I ketch on tor your scheme, an’ I must
say it’s the proper caper. Goin’ ter fool him,
ain’t ye?” '

“ I wish to hide the fact from him that I See
through his retensions and hypocrisy.”

“ Do it, mister: do it! I’m clean down on him
.sence the way he cut up.”

“ and you, my boy, are out of work, are you
not?

“ Fig ertively speakin’, I’m a castaway; but
I shall oi) up ter the surface like a whale fur
breath. can’t be downed jest ’cause he’s
showed me the door.”

“ You have lost your place b protecting my
child, and I will see that you on’t want!” de-
clared Mrs. Garland, earnestly. '

“ I echo that statement,” added Norway.
“ You have done nobly, and we should be most
ungrateful to overlook the service.”

‘ Oh, that wa’n’t nothin’,” Cinders cheerfully
asserted. “ I kin see how yer feel, but what
else could I do? Was I goin’ ter see a small

infant abused by mean skunks? Wal, I should
say not!”

‘ Your modesty is to your credit, but we shall
insist upon helping you. Some proper situation
shall be obtained for you.” _

“ Ef it’ll be an accommodation ter on 1
presoom I’ll take it, though I’m used ter ookin’

-out fur Cinders, myself.’

" We’ll speak of it later. And now Claribel,

what about the mystery in your own life?”

CHAPTER V.
w H o w A s s n n: 3
MRS. GABLAND‘s expression became grave.
“ What about that mystery?” she asked, re-
plyin to Norway.
“ I ave pomted out that, I believe, wisely or
foolishly, as the result may show, that I suspect
,Wur recent troubles spring from the old ones.
nile you were away all was well; since you
came to New York, however,two attemptshave
been made to kidnap Allan. A presentiment
on my part that something would occur ma
inﬂuence my judgment, but I cannot but think
all is otl.’ one piece.”
d Norway paused and glanced at Caleb Cin-
ers.
“ Want me ter adjourn?” asked the Casta-
way, good-humoredly.
“ No,” Norway replied, acting u on a'sudden
impulse. “I may need a shrewd oy hke you
at, and your noble defense of Allan satisﬁes me
hat you are of good timber. I think we can
rely upon you.” ,
‘ Bet or life! I sort 0’ like this crowd!”
Caleb ked around and nodded his approval
several times in a highly humorous wayi
The boy had strongly impressed orway.
Plain and ill-clad thong he was, he had an hon-
. est, intelligent and nial face, and the young
man believed that g: had found a rough dia-
mond in Proctorham’s cast-011' employee.
Norway was a man of discrimination and
sound common sense. Born in a town of New
York State he had come to the City at an early
age, when the death of a relative t ere left him
.goperty which brought in an income sufﬁcient
-. support him in a modest way.
Having no extravagant tastes, he was, satis-

 
ﬁed with the income, but not to live in idleness.
He became a literary writer on a scale which
would not be popular with, or pleasant to one
of less substantial nature. He was a frequent
visitor to the large libraries of Gotham, where
he read books on sub-tautial subjects, found de-
light in them, and shaped his literary career
therefrom. _

He may be termed a general writer on scien-
tific and abstruse subjects.

Morcowr, he had studied human nature as be
found it in the metropolis of the New World,
and had found nowhere a more interesting sub-
ject than in the boys of eVery-day life.

He had, therefore, a double object in making
friends with Caleb, and his judgment told him
that the Castaway was to be trusted.

“ We thank you for your good words, young
man,” he answered, “and, if you continue in
your way of thinking, you will ﬁnd me ready to
aid you.”

The Speaker turned to Mrs. Garland and con-
tinned:

“Let us speak of your early.1ife, Clariliel.
Your first recollections are of along railroad
journey, at the end of which you Were received
by a man and his wife in Oxford county, Maine.
They told you that you were thenceforth to re—
gard them as your parents, and so call them,
and you were kindly reared in their home. As
you grew older you questioned them,and was
told that, When they adopted you, it was from
an orphan asylum in the City of New York.”

“ True,” ohson'od Mrs. Garland, with a sigh.

“ They knew absolutely nothing about you
further than this, not even the names of your
parents. They had Several times reported to
the secretary of the asylum, and when you be-
came old enough to think seriouslyulnd to ex-
press yourself in words, you, also, wrote, and
asked for information as to your parentage.”

“ Useless! l”

“ Yes. on were answered kindly, but your'
all-important inquiry was totally ignored.
Twice, subsequent y, you wrote again and asked
the same questions: ‘ What was my early his-
tory? Whoam I? Who were my purentsi’ In-
variably, these questions were passed over in
the reply; not a reference was made to them."

Caleb was growing interested in this history.
Poor as he was, he seemed to be richer than
Mrs. Garland—he had a name, and she had
none. Practical] , he had nevor had any
parents, but she did not even know the names

are. .

He felt sympathy for her.

“Your last inquiry,” pursued Norway, “was
made six years ago, and, when that failed, you
abandoned the attem tand resolved to ive it
no more thought. T e latter determination be-
came useless when you arered in, New York;
you were on the scene of your early life—
probably, in the city of your birth. You could
not help thinkin of it again.”

“ More than t at,” Mrs. Garland added, “I
resolved to go in person to the rooms of the so-
ciet , and make a ilua! request. Several times
I so a day, but I never had courage to go.”

“ Exactly. Now, I have never encouraged
you, in the past to pursue your investigation,
for it was clear to me that there was something
in the books of the society, in the record made
when you were received, that was un leasant,
or so regarded by them. If your case ad been
of the ordinary kind, your inquiries would have
been fully answered when they made reply to
your letters.”

“ I realize that.”

“ Unless we infer that the society was the ac-
complice of knaves who were wrongmg you—
and we will not do that until we are compelled
to—«we must believe that they were acting for
what they thought your good.”_

“ Then the make a great mistake!” declared
Mrs. Garla . “They do not know what it is
to be ignorant of one’s parentage, and then
have the information refused by the only per-
sons who could give it.” '

“A man who deals with the ublic,” an-
swered Norwa , with an air of di ain, “ is not
to be udged like other men. His blood is like
ice; h s heart like a stone; his head like a piece
of machinery. Give the ordinary man an ofﬁce
and he loses all human feelings. We boast of
our country, and it is a grand one, but all our
Omen-13. from the intermediate class down to
the doork rs, are useful to the public in a
degree only use the ublic compels them to
be—not from human fee 3. I know them I”

This charge was not made with any evidence
of ill-feeling, but was the result pure and sim-
Ple, of the speaker’s contact with the persons he
described.

During his business life he had met with a

v . 5. L.“ r, I» "l:
K v ,‘,,xrlsgi;e,g,‘wgm;“§é

 
good deal of discourtesy among petty ofﬁce-
olders, and his experience was not an isolated
casa.

“ With all due res ct for the judgment of
the entlemen whose ooks contain the records
of t ousands of unfortunate children, I think
that they have no right to Withheld informa-
tion. I think the law would compel them to
live it, and common decency certainly requires
t. The record is there; what right have they
towithhold it? In lleavon’s name, who has a
better right to the record than the person of
whom it is an abridged history f”

“Thar is some mighty measly institutions
dealin’ in children, like it was hossﬂesh, in New
York,” observed Cinders sagely.

“The high position of the Society which fl -
urea in this case saves it from all such suspﬁ-
cion,” Norway freely admitted. “ It does a
work really noble, car'in for poor and homeless
children, many of whom are orphans, and find-
ing homes for them with good families. It is
only when they say to an adult that his, or her,
record is not to be revealed that they err. Of
course the motive is all right, in one sense, for
they assume that unpleasant things had better
remain unknoan, but they carr it too far.”

“Sn pose you go thi-re,”said’ Mrs. Garland,
“ and .hey refuse to show you the record 5”

“I shall demand the right to see it.”

“And what if they still refuse?”

“I shall consults. lawyer, to see just what
our rights are."

“ That‘s the iigger !” Cinders exclaimed.

“And I am sure that,if it cumetosuch an
extreme point, a judge, with ailldavits properly
)laced before him would give an order requir-
ing the society to open its books to us.”

“ This frightens me!” declared Mrs. Garland,
shivering.

“Be at ease, Cluribel: I do not anticipate
that we shall have to resort to such extreme
measures, for I positively know that it is the
custom of nearly all our institutions of like kind
to allow any person to read the record, on up-
plication,when he or she has reached years of
maturity, be the record good or bad.”

“You’ll fetch ’eml” was Caleb’s expressed
opinion.

“ I shall certainly try, and, what is more, I
shall investigate Mr. Irving Proctorham.”

“ I am afraid of that man i” exclaimed Mrs.
Garland, clasping her child closer in her
arms.

“ Do not fear; we will take measures to pro-
tect Allan. My stout servant, Benijah Amos,
shall at all times be near to guard him.”

Some further conversation took place, and it
was decided that Norwa should set out to look
up Mrs. Garland’s past t e next morning.

In the mean whileit was thought rudentihat
she and Allan should remain a Norway’s.
With due care it did not seem that the child
could be taken away, forcihl or otherwise.
Besides two servants, there won (1 be a faithful

rotector in Norway’s aunt, Mrs. Lem-curt, and
be combined force ought to be enough.

Caleb Cinders did not object to staying in the
house. Ile had not spoken idly when he said
that he liked “ the crowd” into which he had
been cast by chance, and, as he was homeless,
he was willing to put himself at Norway ’8 dis-
posal for the time. ,

He was shown to a good room and told to
make himself at home, and, in a ready but
modest way, he did so. .

The night passed without any occurrence out
of the ordinary channel, but when the family
met at breakfast it was with the understanding
that an eventful day was before its members.

 
CHAPTER VI.
,4. WOMAN wno WANTS MONEY.

WHEN Norway was ready to start on his or-
rand he asked Caleb if he Would like to go, too,
There did not seem to be any necessity or the
Castaway to remain at the house. and Norway
saw that, accustomed as the youth was to out.
dogr life, conﬁnement was growing obnoxim.
to im.‘ .

Cinders caught at the chance, and made

read .

“ I’thiuk that “I need not caution you further,”
observed the master of the house to Mrs. Gar-
land. “ You will understand the necessity of
keeping Allan in until I return.”

do indeed.”
“ And not let any bo messa deceive you.
If Proctorham is real {deter nod to get the
boy, he may send word

ﬂy some one pretending
to come from me, and a ou to intrust Allan

to the messenger. Do no do this under any
condition.”

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6 Caleb Cinders, the New York Castaway.

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“Rest assured, I will not allow myself to be
deceived by any such trick.”

“ Then we are ready to go.”

Despite this assertion Norway hesitated, and
it was plain that he was not wholly at ease.
Neither was Clarihel Garland. A crisis was at
hand in her own affairs, as well as in bel‘child’s,
and, lacking the strong nerves which some
women have, she was nervo‘is and apprehen-

sive.

What would the near future bring forth?

Norway ﬁnally aroused spoke to Caleb, and
they went out together. The Castaway at once
experienced a feeling of exhilaration as he got
in motion, but his companion was thoughtful
and silent for some time. Then he threw of! the
mood and talked in the kind way which was so
natural to him, questioning Cinders as to his
past life, and showing marked interest in the
account.

“ He’s about as good as they make ’em i”
thought the Castaway, with great satisfaction.
“ Ef thar is ter be a ﬁght, I’m with him fur the
whole war 1”

In due time they reached the charitable in-
stitution, the location of which need not be
stated deﬁnitely, and the boy was left outside
while Norway went in.

The latter saw two good-sized rooms which
were connected by a double-door, and a young
man sat at a desk in the further one.

He arose politely when the caller appeared,
and the case was soon stated concisely to him.
He had but one question to ask, and this was
rather superﬂuous in view of the information
already given. Was the object of inquiry now
of mature years?

Being assured that she was, herself, a mother,
he unhesitatingly took down a time-discolored
book and opened it before the visitor’s eyes.

Norway had become eluted by such rapid
grogress, but he was doomed to disappointment.

andwi.‘hed in between many other similar re-
cords was the brief entry which certiﬁed that
Clarihel Moer was received at a given date from

, the Department of Out-Door Poor, and sent to
Maine, three days later.

After this was a record of each occasion she
had written back to them, as she grew older,
and nothing more.

Norway’s taco had become downcast.

“ You see how it is,” announced the re resent-
ative of the society; “ the child was real ynever
in our keeping, and was with us in no shape
over three da 5; so you will have to apply to
the ofﬁce of t to Out-door Poor. It is at the
corner of Third avenue and Efeventh street.”

Norway was aware of that, but he disliked to
give up the quest there. He had mc re conﬂ-

ence in the society than in the department to
which his quest now took him.

He remained in conversation for some time,
but ﬁnding no more was to be learned, went out
and rejoined Caleb.

“ I am going to Third avenue,” heannounced,
“ but not in the best of spirits. I have a feeling
that I am going to meet with a discouraging ex-
perience. On the whole, I think that you need
not accompany me there, for m movements
are very uncertain. How would it suit you to
go where you please during the forenoon, and
meet me a my house at one o’clock‘i” .

“ A prime idee i” the Castaway agreed.

“Then take this dollar and amuse yourself as
you see ﬁt.”

Cinders did not know whether to accept the
money or not, but Norway overcome his hesita-
tion by thrusting it into his hand, and then they
so arated.

he Castaway had no verfv clear idea of what
he would do to occupy his t me, so he wandered
on aimlessly. One moment he thought that he
would call upon his mother, but the notion was
speedily discarded.

“ ’ l‘ain’t goin’ ter do until I kin carrya better
report,” he (1 ided. “ She’s had worry enough
ever me, an’ 0 them amiable kids of her second
husband’s learn I’m out o’ a job ag’in, wouldn’t
they jest bowl with joy! Wal, they would be
welcome, but I don’t want to worry my poor
oli mother. She’s stuck to me through thick
an’ thin, an’ I wouldn’t hev her think I’m a bad
egg fur all 0’ Madison avenue as a bridal pres-
ent tei- me!” - '

Occupied with these thoughts Cinders strayed
on unti he was aroused to active life by a scene
peculiar! one of the big city.

First 0 all he saw a number of children in the
street, gathered at one side, and then he discov-
ered that they were grouped around a collection

_ of household goods.

The latter were arranged in a neat, compact
row on the extreme edge of the sidewalk, and it
needed no explanation to see that it was a case

 
yes;

 
of ejectment. Somebody could not, or would
not, pay rent, and the result Was that he, or she,
had been ut out against her will, probably by
process 0 law—put out a ainst her will, for it
was evident that the exi ed tenant was a we-
man.

She was there in all her grief and desolation,
a gray-haired, slovenly-looking person, who,
sitting on the very to of her ejected goods as
though it were her ast eartth resting-place,
wrung her hands and whimpered in a style
Erhich amused the grinning children around

er.

Curiosity is ever activein the youthful breast,
and Caleb Cinders went closer to see her.

He was the largest boy present, and the mo-
ment that the old woman saw him she broke out
in eager words addressed to him.

“ Little boy, won’t you 1go to your mummer
an’ get me some money? ’ve been throwed out
in a heartless way. Deary me, deary me! an’
we so old an’ good. Always kind an’ helpful to
others, an’ now come to this!”

She wiped away her tears with her apron,
whimpered some more, and, as the crowd in-
creased, addressed its members collectivelv.

“ Won’t somebod get me some money! I’m
good old Mother Beck, an’ ev’ry one speaks
well on me. Never hurted nobody,an’ kind an’
helpful to all; an’ now I’m throwed out in my
old age because I had no money to pay my rent.
Doary me, deary me! it’s hard lines for an hon-
est old soul!”

“ Honest!” retorted a scoﬂing voice fi-Om the
crowd. “ How long is it since ryou sailed under
the alias of Mrs. Huldah J o é‘ \"

“ Who’s a better right?’ returned Mother
Beck, her manner less amiable than before.
“ It‘s a poor person that can’t have two
names.”

“ It’s a suspicious one that has to have two!”

“ Go away, you trash! What is it to you?
Huldah Joy was an honest woman—I’d be hon-
est of my name was Smith. Dear me! I had
mone when my name was Hulda J 0y! Yes,
had rich friends, then i”

“ What crime did you do for them?”

“ Hey? What’s that? Crime! Nobody ever
dared ter say a word ag’in’ me nfore. The rich
folks give me mone because I was good an’
helpless; yes, an‘ he’ do it ag’in of I could see

im!

Mother Beck stopped her whimpering, and a
cunning, peculiar loam agpeared in her eyes.

“ Ho!’ she addeg' “ I’ll at that I know how
tar get my rent pai i”

She gave a ﬁnal di at her eyes with the
apron, blinked severa times, grew cheerful,
and, glancing around, ﬁxed her gaze on Caleb
Cinders.

“ Little boy,” she cried, “ I’ll give ye a dollar
ter run an errand fur me 1”

“Thank (ye, mum, but I ain’t in the biz,” Cin-
ders replie .

“ I’ll pay is good money, ood money.”

“If you’ e got money, w y didn’t you pay
your renti”asked a she tie in the crowd.

“I ain’t got it now, at I’ll it it. When I
send the message, the money wil come.”

“ Blackmail money i"

The leam in Mother Beck’s eyes became a
blaze o anger, as it were, and she caught up a
ﬁre-poker which was near at hand and ﬂung
at the audacious s ker viciously.

“ Liars!" she s rilly proclaimed; “ all liars!
You think it cunnin’ to abuse the old woman,
but she knows more than all of you! Deary
me deary me! if only brains was money i”

The melanchol fact that brains were not
money set the ol woman to whimpering a ain.

In the mean while a hansom cab had een
coming through the street, and fast approaching
the scene of Mother Beck’s harangue. A crowd
had been steadily gathering to hear the woman
talk, and the hansom cab would soon ﬁnd its
progress checked.

Its occupants were a lady and a gentleman,
both of middle age. ,

Once more Mother Beck addressed Caleb.

“ Little boy, won’t you go the errand fur me?
Won’t you go to the rich man? He will give
you money, for he dassen’t refuse. Ho! I’d
tell what I know about the rich lady of he did l”

The cunning sparkle reappeared her eyes,
but, just then, the hansom cab bore own upon
the crowd, which piled rather roughly upon
Mother Beck’s goods to escape. The old woman
turned angrily,‘but ﬂushed with joy as she saw
the occupants of the cab. One moment she
looked doubtful; then she almost screamed:

“There they are! Give me money, or I will
tell your secret I”

Caleb azed with breathless interest; the man
in the ca was Proctorhaml .

CHAPTER VII.
THE MYSTERY or MOTHER BECK.

THE Castaway was spellbound, for events had
come with a rush. in a vague way he had
noticed the approach of the hansom cab, but
had felt no interest in it until the old woman
had her sudden attack of violence.

It had been a study to see Mother Beck’s face.
Her gaze had fallen upon the OCCUl’mnls of the
vehicle by chance, and only as upon the cause
of the disturbance, but her expression had
changed like a ﬂash.

Wonder succeeded anger, and doubt followed,
but almost delirious joy came in the track of all
others. Her bony hand shot out, one ﬁnger
pointed straight at the hansom cab, and the
words were ﬂung forth with great excite—
ment.

The uniformed ramrod—otherwise called a
luau—who occupied the lofty seat, and had the
vast honor of being the driver, had been about
to order the crowd to make way, but the words
died away on his lips and he gazed in surprise
as the wild words sounded from the pile of
household goods.

Caleb had made no mistake. The man in the
cab was Irving Proctorham, and he and the
lady who kept him company mechanically turn-
ed their heads as their driVer had done.

They saw a peculiar sight.

In her excitement Mother Beck scrambled to
her feet, but not to plant them on the sidewalk.
She stood on the pile of household goods, her
hand still stretched out, and her wrinkled, un-
pleasant face working oddly as she towered
above the crowd.

“ Here I be!" she cried; “ don’t overlook me.
You know me, an’ I know you! I remember you
well. Deary me, deary meI—it’s a long while
sence you come ter me, most respected madam,
but Mother Beck don’t forget. I did your work,
an’ I did it Well”

She might have been a. madwoman, but ap-
pearances did not indicate that Proctorham and
his companion thought her to be such.

Caleb Cinders’s gaze was riveted upon them,
and he saw the richly-dressed lady change color
and impulsively grasp her companion’s arm,
but Proctorham’s expression became podtively
furious.

“ Drive on!” he shouted, to the driver.

The latter gorgeous individual had allowed

the reinsto slacken, but he gathered them up‘

tight] again.
‘ ake way!” he cried, swinging his whip to.
ward the crowd.

“ Don’t ye do it !—den’t ye dare ter do it i”
shrilly warned Mother Beck.

EVidently the driver at least had no fears,
and he was about to force his way through, but
the old woman lea ed from her perch With the
agility of youth, e bowed the obstructing per-
sons aside and reached the hansom cab.

She thrust her hideons face forward as a con-
tortionist might, and the lady recoiled.

“Stand back, or I will order my man to
drive over you!” Prootorham angrily ex-
claimed.

“ Do it, if you dare; do it. an’ all the world
shall know what I can tell. Velvet-faced lady ”
—here her voice changed to a whine—“ you re-
member me, don’t on now, deary i”

She leered amia ly, but the startled lady in
the cab feverishly, yet faintly, replied: ‘

“No, no; I don’t know you; I never saw you
beforel”.

“ No?” cried Mother Beck, the violent side of
her nature showing a sin.
fill; m’ake myself an erstood! I think I kin

e __ ,

Caleb Cinders saw Proctorham’s ligs move,
and felt sure that something was sai for the
old woman’s private ear; then that gentleman
spoke in a veice audible to all:

“Far be it from me to refuse the claims of
Worthy sufferers. What, my good soul, did you
say was the trouble i”

I’m ﬁred out o’ my home,” Beck meekly an:

swered. .

" Infamous! What was the reason?”

“ I had no money ter pay the rent, yer
Honor.” -

“And such things real] occur in. our ﬁat,
wealth-teemin ci ! Me ancholy fact! or-
thy woman, w at 0 you owe for rent?” .

‘Twenty dollars, sir; bless your kind soul i”

“Here is your money, with enough left over
to pa some one for carrfying yo_ur goods back.
I bring your case be ore theCity authorities,
and see what can be done for you.’ ,

“ Bless you, sir!” mumbled Mother Beck, as
she gathered in several crisp bills.

 
Once more Proctorhxm’s lips moved as he.
made a low-voiced speech, inaudible to the

 
“ Well, I think I'

 
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7.2. I.

 
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crowd; and then he turned his head to the
driver.

“ Go on i” he ordered, peremptorily.

Mother Beck drew back; the J ebu in buttons
cracked his whi ; the crowd made way, and the
hansom cab rol ed down the street.

Caleb Cinders could not answer for any one
else,‘ but he knew that the latter iart of the
scene had been a fraud in which ’i'octorham
and old M her Beck were rqniilly anxious to
act a. part.

He had not had any charitable impulse until
he was frightened into it, and the old woman
had been belligerent enough until his ﬁrst low-
spoken words had made suchasudden change
in her manner. The plain English of it was
that she had demanded hush-money and got it.

“Guess Proctorham has been up ter mean
ca rs afore!” thought the Castaway.

other Beck chuckled as she watched the
carriage roll away.

“The 01’ woman ain’t dead yit!” she affirmed,
for the beneﬁt of the crowd. “Ho! perhaps 1
shall leave my pretty room, my dear room; an’
then, a ’in, perhaps I sha’n’tl Ha! I’il'have
my goo s an chattels back in there within an
hour!” .

“ Don‘t that money burn your ﬁngers?” asked

. a scoffer.

The old woman stopped short.

“ What! what!" she exclaimed. “ Why should
it burn my fingers?”

“ Ain’t it blackmail f”

“ False! false l—all lies l” shrilly declared Mo-
ther Beck, as she shook her ﬁst at the speaker.
“ The poor, dear lady was once sick with small-

x an’ I nursed her through, an’ she was grate-

ul! ’

This gauze-like explanation produced a gen-
eral smile, for she had never been known to
help any one, but as there was no scofiing re-
pl , she trotted briskly away to arrange, it was
be ieved, for the return of her goods to the old

room.

“ Sort of a tough, ain’t she?” asked Caleb, of
a be near him.

“ . eg’lar screamerl"

“ Know her wal?”

“ All I want ter."

“ Know the folks in the harnsome cab?”

\

I, “No”

“ She bled him.”

“ You bet she did i”

“ What fur, d’ye think?”

“ Don’ know.”

Plainly, nothing was to e learned in that
l uarter, but Cinders was no discouraged. He

elt an interest in old Mother Beck, and wanted

to know more about her. If there was to be a
ﬁght between Norway and Mrs. Garland on one
side, and Irving Proctorham on the other, it
would be aver excellent thing to at it elew
to another mi emeanor in which rving was
concerned.

The castawav next tried a woman.

“ So Mother Beck will be with ye longer, eh?”

“ Yes—more’s the pity l”

“ Ain’t she a good neighbor!”

“ Is a burglar a good nei hbor?"

“ D’ye mean she's a burg ar?”

“Don’t ask me i" and the woman shook her
head solemnly.
' “ I’d sorter like ter know.”

“ You had better not. ’Tain’t fur children
ter know, and I can‘t tell ye! She’s lived here
along time, an’ I never knowed any good on

her. She was a woman who drinked a good.

deal, but never worked, an’ had plenty 0’ money
at all times.”

“ Where’d she get it?”

“She had it; don’t ask me where she got it.
A ood ﬁfteen year she’s lived here, always
wel‘f-ﬁxed; alwa s drinkin’ an’ never workin’.
Ef she hadn‘t rinked We’d never ’a’ known
what ter think; but when she did drink she
talked, an’ she let out that she’d done a job for
rich folks, sometimes, an’ was hvm’ on what
they had paid her. ”

‘ That’s odd !" commented Caleb. '

“ Odd? Guess ye don’t know rich folks.
Why, of the real life 0’ the rich was made open,
New York wouldbe so in the soup that ev‘ry
parson here would sell his di lomer fur a mess
o’ potash, like him in the Bi le,an’go_fer Af-
rika y ter he a missionary an’ eat cannibawls—
be eat by them cannibawls. I mean I”

“ Yes; but about Mother Beck?”

“Oh! yes. Wal. about two months ago her
way 0’ life changed, an’ we wa’n’t longin seein’
that she was, at last, short 0’ cash. She went
out ev’ry day, but not ter work.”

“ What fur, then?" Cinders asked.

“ Ter tram the streets an’look—look—looki
Look for w ti Lord knows, I don’t; but

’ ‘ '. . I
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Caleb Cinders, the New York Castaway.

she’d go on the streets where the big—bugs live,
an’ peer inter the face of ev’ry one she seen in
a. carriage, or on foot, an’ inter the winders 0’
the houses.”

“ That’s funny!"

“No; her money had give out, an’ she was
lookin’ for the ones who had give it, so as ter
strike them again. That’s my notion. An’ she
Went out day after day, day after day, for
weeks an’ months, always huntin’ her game.”

“ Did she find it?” inquired the Castaway.

“ Not unless it was just now,” and, with this
signiﬁcant remark, the woman turner! uml en-
tered the house.

CHAPTER VIII.
WHAT 'riiu RECORD CONTAINED.

AFTER leaving Caleb Cinders, us before
described, Alton Norway went at once to the
ofﬁce of the Superintendent of Outdoor Poor.

The building is at the corner of Third, avenue
and Eleventh street, and is one of the lv‘ast pro-
tentious of the many in which the city business
of New York is done.

Norway had never been there before, but he
discovered that the entrance was on Eleventh
street, and promptly entered. Once inside, he
saw a scene so novel to him that he mechani-
cagy paused.

e was in a large, slightly-oblong room,
where a gem! deal of busmess was being done.
One end, and a portion of each side at the
connecting points, was rendered private by
means of a Sort of counter, surmounted with
a wicker-work iron fence, the whole being not
gnlike that seen in the sacred precincts of a

an)! .

in one corner a man sat engaged upona book,
or set of books, but, us he was all alone, Nor-
way decided that be was merely the book-
keeper. Behind another part of the “fence,”
and near the door, was a man who was talking
with a ragged person through a pigeon-hole
and behind the ragged perSon was a line of
other ragged persons. .

It was a dismal line, for the stamg of Poverty
was upon all. Some were men an some were
women, but all looked to be poor and wretched.
Some of them had an arm in a sling, and others
had bandaged heads; and one woman had a
baby in her arms.

It was an eloquent, but a sorrowful picture.
These were the unfortunatcs for whom the De-
partment was organized, and they were apply-
ing for aid from the City. Perhaps ever one
could have told a story pathetic or thrilling
enough for the columns of the daily press, and
one—the woman with the baby—brought Nor-
wa ’s errand eloquently to his mind.
thbo, probably, Mrs. Garland had once been left

ere. '

The melancholy line was constantly rein-
forced by persons who came from the further
side of the room, and there, Norway soon
genieived, was the man with whom he must

ea .

The space occupied by the Department ex-
tended beyond the large room, and the visitor
sawa passage leading to an unknown region
with three or four steps to reach it, the ground
ﬂoor of the remainder of the building being
hi rher than that of the ﬁrst mom.

n one side of the passage was a small room
which looked like an oﬁice, and between this
oﬂlce and the large room was an opening,
waist-highﬂike a big window. By this open-
ing sat the superintendent, busy with appli—
cants.

Seeing that he must await his turn, Norway
continued to use his eyes. He saw that when a

erson entered, he or she went ﬁrst to the super-
intendent, where he was kept some time in con-
versation, and when the point w s passed, went
to join the melancholy line, w ere numerous
questions were asked and the‘replies recorded.

The whole room was lain, old-fashioned and
almost forbidding, an the close, unpleasant

 
' air and line of unfortunates had a depressing

effect upon Norway. Never before had be seen
such a collection of wretchedness, and he began
to rﬁalize the condition of the poor of New

or .

3e wished,too, that the rich of the city would
deign to take one look into that room.

As others passed on l-o (‘rnw nearrr to the. offi-
cer in charge. To ream-h bun ( no he -! to amend
the three or four steps brfnr“ T‘lﬁ'liiﬂl‘ rd. and
then stand on a sort of broad stair \\ inh a. Weed-
en protection against a fall at his back, and a
policeman at his left.

The particular policeman whom Norway saw
was young, plump and good-looking.

Clearly, he was not a victim of poverty.

At last Norway stood on the broad stair with

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the handsome policeman at Li,» left and the suo
perintendent before him.

He began the battle at once. '

“I have called, sir, on important business
which I will state as brieﬂy as possible. Up-
wards of twenty years ago, among the many
children this Ih~partment sent away to homes,
was one, Claribel Moer, who was sent! to Oxford
county, Maine, to be adapted by worthy people
there. This was done; a generation 0 time
has asscd; the child is now a woman, and she
wtu d like to ascertain “Lat she does not yet
know—who she is l”

The sum-rintendcnt listened attentively, but
did not offer any remark.

“ Beyond the fact that her name, real or fic—
titious,wus (,‘lai-il.ell\leei',sho knows nothing
of her early life. When she went to Maine she
was so young that she could tell nothing to her
adopted parents, and all recollection of the old
life soon died away. Knowing that Your books

, must have her record sherespcctfu iy requests

you to allow me, as her representative, to see
and copy it.”

“ Can you give the exact date when she was
sent to Maine?” brieﬂy asked the impassive
superintt ndent. '

‘ It is all on this paper,” Norway returned, as
he handed over the article named.

“ We will investigate. Take a seat!”

“Take a seatl”echoed the handsome police-
man, as he pointed to a belt near the broad stair.

Norway “ took a seat.” lie felt grateful that
he was not asked to stand in the melancholy
line. -

The oliceman was given the paper the visi—
tor ha brought, and with this he passed behind
the iron fence to the man whom Norway had
picked out as the bookkeeper. The document
was left there. The bookkeeper—he may have
been called a secretary, or any other lofty
name; Norway never learned—took the aper
and Went to the Third avenue side 0 the
room.

Rows of books, the records of the De iartnient
for many years, Were there, and, a ter some
search, he selected one, carried it to the desk
and began to examine it.

The visitor watched him narrowly, bein by
that time in a state of nervous suspense. op-
ing, as he did, to be more than a friend to Mrs.

Garland, some day, her interests 'were his, but '

he had no selfish or unworthy motive.

Whatever the records might reveal, she still
would be the woman he had selected for his
wife, and she was not responssble for her early
history.

After turning the leaves of the big book for
some time the employee found the proper lace,
drew a sheet of paper closer to him, and egan
to write upon it.

Norway watched with fresh interest. How
much was there to copy? How much would the
record tell?

There was encouragement as the bookkeeper
continued to write rapidly for some time; there
must be considerableon t e records.

At last the work was done; the big book was
closed; the guardian thereof took the copy and
started toward his chief. To reach him the
subordinate had to pass Norway. The latter
looked wishful] at the dpaper, and at its
bearer, hoping t at it won! be handed to him,
but. with an icy composure, the man passed on
as though he had not seen the supplicant by the
wa .

'l he paper was received and examinedby the
snpeiintendent, and then the plump policeman
made a beckoning gesture and Norway Went to
the broad stair again and confronted the arbi-
ter of his fate.

He was at once speared through and through
by an attentive gaze.

“ What relative are you of this lady i” asked
the superintendent, touching the paper with his
ﬁn I r

‘6! 'am an intimate friend; and,” Norway
frantly added, seeing that he must give good
I'L'ﬂrln s, h l ext-o or her to be my wife soon.

Pu hapstoe explanation ha d a marked eﬁect,
for l he oilicial at onCo assumeda very matter-of-
fact, soothing air.

“ W ell, we are notable to give on much in-
formation, as the record isineomp etc. ' She was
rem-ﬁxed by us at the date you gave,-and sent
away almost at once. She was left with us by
her mother.”

“ Was she permanently given up!” Norway
eagerly asked.

° The mother never came back.” . '

“ What was the mother’s name i”

“ It was Huldah, andshe was of Jewish pars,

entaXe." ,
g ‘f ad the father’s name—”

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7‘71. 7‘

  
8 Caleb C

inders, the New York Castaway.

 
“ Is ,not given. Her name is down as Claribel

oer.

“ Isn’t that singular?” Norway asked, dubi-
ousliyi.

‘ ‘ ’ ecords were very incompletely .made at
that l line.”

“ [is some information was gleaned, it must
be that applicants for aid were questioned then
as they are now,” and the young man indicated
the melancholy line, the members of which were
going to the pigeon- hole one after another to be

at through the Hull of interrogation. “ Such
ing the case, why did the officials of that day
ascei tain that the mother was named Huldah,
and that she was of Jewish parentage, and yet
learn no more?”

“It was owing to a loose system.”

“ And the mother’s surname is not given?” -

If No.1) I

“ Or the date of the child’s birth .4”

l‘  17

1“ And there is no clew to the father’s iden-
t ty?‘ ‘

“There is not. Our city departments were
not then so attentive to t- chuicalities—b
which I mean the points peculiar to their busr—
ness."

Norway experienced a sense of resentment
that the superintendent should feel it necessary
to act as a dictionary, but passed over the cause
of offense.

“ Will you allow me to see the paper?” indi-
cating that which contained the copy of the
record. -

“ I have told you all there is.”

The superintendent stirred in his seat as
though the interview was at an end; the plump
policeman stirred as though the subject had, in

is opinion, reached an cud of necessity, if not
of justice.

Norway, alone. was irresolute.

CHAPTER IX.
CALEB CALLS FOR A EALT.

CONFLICTING emotions beset Norway. He
felt sure that he had not been given all the in-
formation which the records contained,.but he
was uncertain how to proceed. What were his
rights in the case? He did not know, and this

laced him at a disadvantage. He certainly

ad a moral right to all that was there; if he
had been sure that he had a legal right, he
would have demanded to see the record. .

As he was not sure, he thought it best to
adopt a moderate course and not arouse any
pre udico against his cause.

easked some further questions, but gained
no light.

Others were waiting to see the superintendent,
and, as it dawned upon him that he was block-
ing the wheels of the city government, he
passed slowly by the plump policeman, dewn

he steps, by the melancholy line of poverty-
stricken a; licauts, and out of the building.

The fres air was a great and welcome
change from the stilling atmosphere of the
room he had just left; it reinvigorated his
bed y, but there was nothing to exhilarate his

mind.

He had failed in his quest, and the failure
was annoying—he was next to positive that
something had been kept, back. It was not
hard to surmise why this had been done.

What was known about Mrs. Garland’s early
life-or, at least, what was told by the record
—was not favorable; and it had been thought
best 20 keep all such unfavorable information
secre .

Norway, however, was not ready to admit
defeat. , ‘

“I will 0 further!” he thought, resolutely;
“ I will app y to the Commissioners of Charitie
and Corrections. They are the head of the
Department, and I may be able to convince
them that every person has a moral right to
what is known about herself.”

Small events often prove irritating, and so
had the superintendent’s manner. The latter
had not been curt, harsh or ungentlemanly, but
had adopted a course such as one would use to
soothe and acify a child. It had produced the
o osite e set upon Norway. and the factlthat
f e superintendent had thought it necessary to
explain a simple word was not ﬂattering to the
young ‘man's mind. '

He was not in a cheerful frame of mind,
either. when he reached home. '

Caleb Cinders was there ahead of him, and
nothing had occurred to disturb the house-
hold. Allan was safe, and his mother was

 
' contented.

Norway told his story in the presence of Mrs.
- Garland and Caleb. ‘
“ We are not defeated,” he said, in conclu-

 
sion, trying to dis 1 the grave look on Clari-
bel’s face.
in the records,and We will have it if such a
thing is possible. First of all, I shall consult a

lawyer who is a personal friend of mine. He is

himself employed in one of the city depart ‘

ments, 'und, consequently, would not cure to
take charge of a hostile campaign; but he will
tell me what the law allows you.”

“ Isitbest to gofurther?” Mrs. Garland asked.

“ Why not?”

“ I am afraid of the result.”

“ Ordinarily, .I would not urge you, but, in
view of the suspicious which Irvmu' Proctorham
has put into my mind, I really think we had
better persevere.”

“ We will do So, then.”

“ We must know what is in the record. It is
absurd to suppose that if your mother brought
you to that place they would ask her ﬁrst name
and her nativity, and not learn the last name or
her husband’s name.”

“ I, did not catch her name.”

“ Huldah.”

“ What’s that?”

The question quick and excited, came from
Caleb. He hart been waiting patiently and 9+
lontly to tell Norwav of his new encounter with
l’roctorbam. Like Mrs. Garland he had failed
to u ndcrstand the name at first, but it now pro-
duced a marked effect upon him, as the questiOn
showed.

Norway turned in some surprise.

“ Huldah Was the name.”

“ ’Twa’u’t Huldah Joy?”

“ The last name was not given. Why? Do
you know a Huldah Joy l”

.l“ Heerd the name tor-day; I did, b’jinksl it
was a false name fur a. sartain Mother Beck, a
woman who was paid for a secret, nn’ has been
trampin’ the streets ter ﬁnd her banker ag’in;
an’ she has jest got some money out o’ Proctor-
ham l”

“ I don’t understand.”

“Nor me!”

‘.‘ I mean that I don’t understand what you are
endeavoring to convey. Explain l”

“ So I will, short order, fur I think it’s p’ison
suspiciousl”

And then Cinders rapidly told the story of old
Mother Beck. giving a very clo or account of
how he found that woman expelled from her
room to the sidewalk, and how she had made a
raise from Irving Proctorham. '

He did not forget to tell how, according to a
neighbor, Mother Beck had lived for years on
the prooeeds of a secret. -

“ And this old woman was once called Huldah
J 031%; thgughtfully replied Norway.

es

“There are probably a good many ‘ Huldahs ’
in New York,” observed Mrs. Garland.-

“ The name is not common.”

“ If you think Proctorham was the evil enius
0’ this lady’s early life. an’ there was a uldah
in it, I presoom it might not be lost time ter
look arter this Huldah who so skeered Proctor—
ham that she got money out on him i”

This terse presentment of the case by Caleb
could not.but be impressive, and Norway quick-

ly rwied:

“ 0 will look to Mother.Beck.”

“ Better do it right off.”

“ We will have lunch and 0 immediately.”

“ Surely such a woman as aleb describes her
to be cannot be my mother—at least. 1 think
not!” Mrs. Garland hesitatingly observed. -

“ Decidedly not; but you will see that there is. -

more to it, if anything. By following Caleb’s
course of reasoning we are, perhaps, rushing to
wild conclusions, but if it should prove that she
was the Huldah who carried you to the charity
department, and that Irving I’roctorham had
an interest in the case, we can see at once that
she was not your mother, though she may so
have represented herself.”

This statement great] encoura ed Mrs. Gar-
land, and she was deci edly hope when they
went to lunch.

When the meal was ﬁnished Norway and
Caleb wont to the Elevated Road and took a
down-town train. 1

The former felt that they were doing a good
deal of he hazard guessing, and that it might
end in tota disappointment; and the conscious-
ness rendered him silent and thoughtful. Cin-
ders was not taken that way. Havin the im-
petuons spirits of youth. he was conﬂ out that
they were going to run the mystery to earth at
once. -

Being at ease mentally the Castaway devoted
his time to using his eyes, and mana ed to see
about all that was going on in, an outside,
the car.‘ The latter had only a very few occu-

i

 
curiosity.

It was thus that he chanced to see an interest-
ing pantomime.

On one of the cross-seats sat an elderly lady
who was richly but modestly dressed. She had
in her possession a small hand-bag which she
had put beside her on the unoccupied half of
the seat. She was deep in meditation.

Back of her. on the long salt, was a youn
man whose arm rested on the back of the shor
seat. Cinders was first led to notice him by
the fact that he was regarding the lady close-
ly : and then the Castaway discovered a peculiar
fact. The young man carried a hand-bag pre-
cisely like the lady‘s, and, while kee ing a very
innocent lock on his face, was slow y and cau-
tiously lowering it into the seat which she occur

ied. .

p Caleb was on the alert at once; he would not
have been a true, wide-awake city boy if he had
not become suspicious.

Lower sunk the hand~bag without being
noticed by the lady. W hen it reached the seat
the man released his hold and as cautiously
grasped the lady’s hand—bag; then his arm be-
gun to rise, holding the ill—gotten property.

Cinders sprung to his feet.

“ Stop, thief 2” he cried, hurrying forward.

CHAPTER X.
A MISSING WOMAN.

Tun words were of a nature to create excitep
ment on any occasion, and they did so now.
Every gaze became fixed upon Caleb Cinders as
his clear command “ Stop thief!” rung out in
the car. The interest did not die out when the
Castaway paused in front of the stranger, lev-
oled an accusing ﬁnger at him and indignantly
addedz. '

“ You give that lady’s property back, you
measly critter, you i”

The purloined hand-hag was in the stranger’s
lap, and he tribd to look innocent.

‘ Are you drunk or crazy?” he demanded.

“ l’m sober enough an’ sane enough fur you i”
coolly declared Cinders. “ Give that hand-bag
back 1”

“ This is my hand-bag.”

“ Not much, it ain’t; it’s the lady’s.”

The lady, after the ﬁrst natural start, had
shown commendable calmness, and she quietly
observed:

“ My hand-bag is here.”

She pointed as she spoke, but Caleb’s answer
was ready.

“ Look inside it, an’ see! I say that his light—
ﬂngeref’l nibs has swapped one on ter you jest
like it.

The lady changed color and made a clutch at
the hand—bag, but the stranger fairly rbristled
with anger and assumed indignation.

“ 'What do you mean ny such an infan. \us
charge?" he demanded. “ have agoodmind to
smash you. Do you know who I am!”

 
l

“ No; I ain’t acquainted at Sing Sing!” Cin-

ders rotor-ted.
The stranger ﬂashed a glance toward the
lady and saw that she was opening the hand

be .

‘gThere may have been a mistake,” he admit-
ted, with a trace of ﬂustration. “ My hand-
bag was on the same seat, and I may have taken
the wrong one—-”

“ Gammon l"

As the Castawa
the lady succeed in opening the bag.

“ This is not mine 1” she cried.

“ Tol’ ye sol”

The lady sprung to her feet.

“ I have value. 10 papers, and they are lost!”
she exclaimed.

“ Not of we head of! this p’ison pilferer!”

 
~ ‘\ I h I” .
l pants, and be regarded them with mechanical ‘~v' 
“ I fee sure that there is Something - . ‘

made this terse interruption ,

The thief was evidently an old hand, and he .

kept his composure remarkably. Now that the
alarm was given he could not et away with
the plunder, and he knew it. be next best
way was to use his wits and get out of it. Alton

‘ Norway and the only other adult male passen-

ger were at hand, and only great good luck
could save him from being turned over to the
lice. ,
poHe raised his hat politely.
“ Madam,it is quite possible thatI have taken

the wrong bag, thou h I assure you that it was,
0

a mistake. u wil notice that they are much
alike. Allow me to examine the one you hold,
and if it roves that I have acoidentally ex-

:iiaﬁiggd, shall be as glad as you to make it
t. .
I‘ That won’t save ye from the Tombs, mis-

tor!”
qupoke Caleb, readily, and the thief tunnel
upon him in a rage.

 
[A
. “V. ‘
NI.

 
!

Caleb Cinders, the New York Casitaway.‘

 
“ I’l smash you—”

“ Exeuee me, but you will do nothing of the
hind !” aternly put in Norway. “ This lad is
with me, and under my rotection.”

:‘ Then teach him civi 1 .”h 00d

‘ udgin; by a rances, e n s no teach-
er. He has done “39.1: great credit.”

“ Gentlemen, let us settle this without useless
talk,” requested the lady, quietly. “ I find that
this second bag is mine, and in good condition.
I do not claim the second; if this—this person
does, he has only to take it and go.”

“ You won’t let the critter off, will ye?” cried

“ He ought to be arrested,” urged Norway.

“ l decl e-to appear against him in court.”

“ You only do me justice, madam!”aﬁlrmed
the thief, “ ald— But excuse me, here is my
station!”

He was afraid that she would be induced to
change her mind, and, as they slowed up, he
was one of the ﬁx st at the gate. Silence reigned
in the car, but all mechanically watched him
leave the train. When their way was resumed,
the last chance of arresting him vanished.

“ I’m afraid it’s a mistake,” mechanically re-
marked Norway. '

“ So ’tis, b’jiuks!” Cinders agreed.

“I am sorry it’ I have disappointed you, and
it is quite possible that I am wron , but I have
a horror of appearing in court. odouht the
man was a Villain, but, as he did not accom-
plish his p , I preferred to let him go.
That he fail is due wholly to this bright-faced
young man.” ,

She looked at Caleb Cinders, noted his ap-
pen rance more closely, and then added:

“ I am about to leave the train, but I would
like to talk, at some future time, with him who
has saved me from the loss of important ia-
'pl‘I'S. My lad, will you call upon me, a ew
days later?”

“I shall be pleased ter,” the Castaway re-

pli .

“Then take this card: it has m name and
address upon it. When you come will reward
you properly for your very valuable service
which I am not ab 9 to do now on account of
Want of money.”

“Don’t mention it!” the boy quickly re-

_ ques ed

t .
“ I will mention it later.”
The train was slackening, and, with a gra-

cious smile, the lady passed out of the car and I

alighted.

‘ Charmin’ as a queen!” Caleb commented.

“ An estimable lady, no doubt,” Norway
agreed. “ What does the card say?”

“‘ Mrs. Catherine Richardson, No. -— Lex-
ington Avenue,‘ ” Cinders read. “ Sounds
togy, don’t it?”

orway’s mind was too busily occupied to
dwell long upon the subject, and as their own
station was at hand, all the chief actors in the
late scene were soon gone. It had not created
much notice, for conversation had not been
loud and the trainmen had not discovered that
anything requiring their attention was in pro-

ess.

grLeaving the train and the station, Norway

and Caleb walked briskly to Mother Beck’s resi- '

deuce. All was quiet there, and the household
goods had disappeared from the sidewalk.

They knocked at the door, but received no
ans-Her, and,‘ as there was no bell. or other
means of summoning any one they entered.

After pounding on several doors they aroused
a sli shod—looking woman. Y

“ here is Mrs. Beck’s room?" Nomay asked.

“Her room is up-stairs, but she ain’t there,”

was the re ly.

u.

“ No? here is she?”
“Gone?!
"Gone?"
“Bag an’baggéeﬁe. A truck came an hour

go, an’ she has for good.”

i‘ Wa’n’t her oods brought in, after they had
been at out?”t e Castaway demanded.

“ 0. She came back an’ said she wouldn’t
live here, nohow, so 0 she went to a new

' home.”

"‘ Where is that?”

tel; "on’t know; we asked her, but she wouldn’t
‘ Both Norway and Cinders were downcast.
Had Mother Beck really slipped out of their

hands? I
- ‘ ‘ Didn’t she tell any one here?”

, move on som’ers on

“ Not she. _ We see her get money of a ﬁne
gent in a hansom cab, an’ we:th e had her
as.

A sudden idea came to Caleb Cinders. When
after the adventure with Proctorham, she had

 
made oil? with the assertion that she would make
arrangements to et her room back, and move
her goods in age n, she had gone in the same
direction previousl taken by the hansom cab.

Was it possible hat Proctorham had again
seen her, and had her move elsewhere on pur-
pose to have her disappear?

She had used her tongue freely, and might be
dan erous to him.

“ )id you know the man who moved her
goizdés?”,continued.Norway.

0

“But can’t you suggest any way by which
we can get trace of her? She must have
friends—4

“ I doubt it!
you can ﬁnd any friend 0’ hers here, I’ll go
treat. Mother Beck was a neighbor we can
part with just as well as not!”

“ Did ye ever hear her called by any other
name?” asked Cinders.

H NO.”

“ Somebody called her Huldah Joy, when she
was settin’ on her property in the street.”

The woman shook her head.

“ Never heerd the name. But, laws! old
Mother Beck wouldn‘t be above havin’ a dozen
names;l always kept my spoons hid when she
was around I”

This evidence of good feeling in the tenement
house did not bring a smile to the face of either
visitor. The old woman‘s disappearance was a
severe disappointment. They had formal great
hopes, and believed that money would lead her
to talk freely, but she had vanished just when
discoveries seemed to be in order.

As there was no reply, their informant sud-
den! ‘ broke out with fresh in formation.

“ wouldn’t like tcr have Mother Beck’s con-
science, nohow. Long, can she lived here, do-
in’ nothin’, but havin’p enty of money; an’ we
all understood it was the fruit of some ugly
deed. She run short, though, un’ then she was
wild. She’d lost sight 0’ her rich money—giver
—-so we think-an’ she set out tor find him. For
weeks she (lid nothin’ but tramp the streets in
the fash’nable quarter an’ look fur him, but
she never found him. I’m glad she had tar get
out!

The speaker gave her head a jerk, shut her
mouth, and stood on record asreiigiously op-
posed to old Mother Beck.

CHAPTER. XI.
THE now or A CLUB. .

Foams-n questioning failed to develop any-
thing of interest, so Norway and Caleb Cinders
left the house.

“ Where now?” the latter asked.

“ Our one hope seems to be in ﬁnding the man
who took Mother Beck’s goods awa . Accord-

ing to what we have been told, th s was done, .

not in a furniture-van or express-wagon, but in!
a tru--k. We must visit every possible place
around here.”

“ Them’s the idea!” Caleb agreed.

“ Away we go, then. We’ll interview the
ﬁrst policeman we meet, and ascertain what
stables are near.” .

“ We’ll run the old lady down!” cried the
Castaway, confidently.

“ I hope so.”

“Of course we will. Never en die!”

This was good advice, but Cin ers’s san ine
s irits were destined to receive a severe s ock.

hey acted upon the plan marked out, and made
all ossible inquiries, but not a man could they
ﬁn who had moved an old woman’s household
eifects that day. They visited stables and stop-
pedtesms, but all to no effect.

The ri ht man had disappeared as com lete-
ly as Mo hr-r Beck herself, and they coul only
conclude that, wishing to blind her trail, she
had sto ped some strange driver and thus ac-
complis cd her object. -

By the time that their useless labors were
concluded the afternoon had worn away, and
they saw that they would have to let the missing
woman rest for awhile.

Norway looked at his watch.

” I have just about time enough to catch my
lawyer friend, who is employed by the city,” he
Oblerved, “and as I want to learn just what
my rights are in investigating Mrs. Garland’s
early ife, I think I will call upon him at once.
You can go on home and meet me there later.”

“ All right.” Caleb a rhed.

“ You can say that will soon be home.”

“ I’ll do it.”

They separated, and the Castawa took a
train of the Elevated Railroad for up- wn. On
the way he got to thinking of his nnceremonious
departure from Irving Proctor am’s house. He
had left there his whole wor dly possessions,

She never had company, an’ of .

 
and, though his connection with Norway bade
fair to soon make him better off than ever be-
fore, he did not like the idea of abandoning any-
thing on his late employer‘s premises.

The desne to take his effects away became a
passion , and be resolved to go there at once.

It was not likely that I’roctorham would dare
to do anything against him, and, in any case,
Cinders did not hold him in awe.

In order to reach the house he had to pass

Horace Peech’s cool-yardé and, although it was '

ast six o’clock, he knew hat his friend would
all.
He had not miscalculated; Peach was there,
poring over his accounts, and his face was as
striped as a. zebra’s where he had meditativer
grawn his ﬁngers across it and left coal-dust in
ars.

“ Hullo, Tom Thumb!” he cried,“ be you still
alive ?"

“ See any evidence that I’m defunct?”

“No; but I s’posed old Proc had you before
now.”

“ He will go fur big game ﬁrst, an’ you are
hand;v ye know."

“ I he comes around here,” declared the coal-
dealer, “I’ll sprinkle him, an’ then roll him in
that dust l”

And he pointed to a black heap of powdered

coa .

“ I’d like tcl‘ see it done, b’jinks! It’s owin’
ter him that I’m a castaway ri ht in the heart
0’ New York. I had a promis 11’ career ahead
ov me as a boy—o’-all-work, but he nipped it in
the bud, an’ come nigh nippin’me,too. He ain’t
been ’round, has he?”

“ Not any!”

“ He owes me up’ards o’ sixty cents in wages.”

“ Hue him i” cried Mr. Peach, forcibly.
“ Draw the money right out 0’ him! Han
Proctorham! lle’s no good, an’ be comes o.’be.
blood 1”

“ Say,” exclaimed Cinders, “d’ye know his
folks?”

“ Not intimately.”

“ I never hev seen an body but his own
fam‘ly ’round his premises—no relativos, I
mean."

“ He’s got a sister: a Mrs. Lydeckton.”

“ Where does she live?"

“ I don’t know.”

“ How did Proctorham at his money!”

“ His father, Burr Proc orhnm, was rich, an’
I s’ )030 it come from him. The’ old man was
ric niiserly an’ cranky, an’ there was no great
good will between him an’ his son.” _

“Was there ,other heirs besides him an’ his
sister?”

“ Never heard of any. Why?”

“ I’d like to look inter his affairs.”

“There’s an old man down on Bond streetwho
worked for the Proctorhams years a o, on’ I
redkon he knowsthem all like abook. is name
is Ben Brown, and he lives near the Bowery. I
don’t know the number, but everybody around
there knows old Ben.”

“ I’ll call on him.” , l

“ If there’s a sccret in the .am’ly he can tell
it. So you ain’t going back to I’roc’s?”

“ I’m going fur m clothes an’ thin ;” and
then Cs eb explains the errand wh ch had
taken him to the vicinit .

Peach .shook his bee and osed the idea.
Darkness was fallln , and, at t at hour he did
not think it pruden for the boy .
Proctorham’s premises alone; an he did not
want to go with him, for, if the rich man saw
ﬁt, to be ugly, he could kill Mr. Peacb’s trade in
that vicinity. As for going there, he might
not touch Caleb, but it was takin a risk with-
out any good cause,the coal-deal thought.

The discussion lasted forsome time. and. when
Peach had carried his point and the Castaway
had promised not to go that night, anyhow,
darkness bad fully fallen.

Peach arose and at awa his accountrbook.
“ Let’sgo home C nders,” osuggestedqawn-
ing. “ I ain’t had any supper, and there won’t
be no more customers, tor-night.”

“ I thought I heard a footstcp.” .'

“ Fancy, prob’ly, though i may be them
.Crooks boys are prowlin’around ag‘in. They’re
the bother o’ my life!” '

The boys mentioned were mischievous young
fellows who were always playing tricks upon
everybody, and the possibility that they wore

rowling around caused Peac to step quickly
$0 the door of the shanty.

Caleb was following more moderately, but
something made him stop short. .

As the coal-dealer reached the threshold there
was the sound of a blow, and then he fell across

the aperture and lay without sound or motion.

/

)6 there; so he concluded to call on him first of

V011 1‘6 on '

  
._.

  
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The Castaway paused and/looked in wonder.
He'had seen nothing, and only the sound which
had preceded the fall remained as a uide.
What had it been? What had caused it? hat
was the matter with Horace Peach?

The boy stared o t the darkness with a momen-
tary feelin of alarm. Was there an enemy
outside? obody likes to deal with a secret
fee. if one was at hand, what was his pur-

 
GEE?
p Caleb looked around for a weapon, but the
single light was burning low, and he did not dis-.
Cover any.

He took a forward step, and again paused in
doubt. The black expanse without was not in-
viting. He could not leave Peach uncured for,
and he again made a forward move. Reaching
his motionless friend, he seized his legs and be-
gan to pull him back.

The act hastened the catastrophe which had
been impending.

Two dark forms suddenly whisked into view,
revealing the presence of as many men; and
then they sprun over the coal-dealer’s body.

Cinders lea e backward, but he was speedily
shown that e was not to escape so easily.
Straight for him the men made, and he saw

that one held some kind of club or sand-bag in '

his hand.

“ Do the little bound up i” one of them cried.

There was no room in the shanty for running,
soCaleb adopted the only course open to him.
Lowering his head, he made a sudden dive to

ss them. One tried to seize him and failed,

ut the other was more fortunate. Down came
the weapon he held; the be experienced a
sharp pain in his head, and t en he lost con-
scionsness.

How long this condition of aﬁairs lasted he
never knew, but it could not have been a great
while. He recovered his senses and With their
return came perfect clearness of mind. He re-
membered the last scene at once, and began to
struggle.

It was a vain attempt; he found himself held
down by some power stronger than himself.
He was in utter darkness, and all appeared cor-
respondingly silent, but the stillness was sud-
denl broken. ‘

“ s all read yi” asked a voice.

“ Yes,” some one replied.

“ Then let us get out.”

“ Are you sure the boy is fast?”

“ Yes. ’ ’

“ The dickens would be to pay if he escaped.”

“ Never fear - he‘s safe as pie. It seems rough
to make the old coal-dealer go under, too, just
to ﬁx the boy—but there ain’t any help for it.
Come on.”

Footsteps sounded—a door closed—there was
a little rattling outside—then all was still.

Suddenly, however, the darkness began to
grow less. Caleb looked and saw a steadily-in-
creasin tongue of ﬁre, and its light revealed a
pile of ne woo .

The truth ﬂashed upon him. '

He had been securely bound'by the unknown
intruders, and now they had set ﬁre to the
shanty and beat a retreat. ,

CHAPTER XII.
rim CASTAWAY’S FIGHT FOR LIFE. ‘

As he fully realized his peril, Caleb Cinders
experienced a feeling of horror. Death by ﬁre
is certainly something to appall the stoutest
heart, and that was what menaced him. He
struggled ﬁercely, but the result only went to
show how ﬁrmly he had been bound. He could
not call for help because of the bandage which
had been passed over his mouth, and, if it had
been out of his way, he might not have made
himself heard in the coal-yard, with the shanty
door closed.

The blaze increased, lapping the light kin-
dlin -wood greedily, and the interior of the
sh became as light as though a lamp was
burning. It revea ed, too, Horace Peach’s mo-
tionless form. Caleb would have thought him
dead, but the ropes upon his arms and legs
showed that others had not thought so.

Caleb writhed like a ti er in battle, as he
tried to burst his bonds. nless Providence di—
rected some gaze early to the place, the remote
shunt was likely to be one mass of seethin
ﬂame efore help came. ’

For it to come at that hour would be no ad-
vantage or beneﬁt to Cinders. . '

His careeziwould be ended.

The ﬁre g nod with startlingra iditg; thouglh
it was not a whirlwind-like spr of me. t
was as brisk as it' was dangerous, and would
have absolute control. ’

He called to Peach but there was no reply.

“B’jinksl I’ve go tor depend on my own of-

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‘ forts, an’ I don’t see'as I’m wol ﬁxed fur the
battle. Couldn’t be no more helpless ef I was
a toothless baby. Say, Cinders, you’ll be
‘cast, away ’ fur good an’ all of you don’t look
out!

Despite the fact that be fully realized his
danger, the boy remained clear-headed in his

evil, and looked eagerly for a way out of it.

hat could he do? He had tested the cords

which hound him, and found that they were not
to be broken. '

What other way was open to him?

He was lying on top of the big desk, and this,
as be well knew, was fastened to the wall. Prob-
ably his enemies had tried it and found it so-
cure before binding him to it. L

This was not encouraging, but he could see no
hope except to force it away from its position.
If this could be done he could, perhaps, reach
and 0 en the door.

He egan to work on this plan, and squirmed
around until, after much labor, he got his feet
against the wall. Not much time was left for
him to work in; the fire had spread beyond the
kindling-wood, and was taking hold of the
shanty. This was old and dry, and when fairly
in the grasp of the ﬂames would burn up in
furious haste. . .

Already the room was full of smoke, and he
began to choke and cough.

A good chance was given him to put out his
strength and press the desk away from the wall,
! but as the resistance all came upon the cords

which bound him, it was at the expense of

9 physical pain. This he did not heed—ignoring

1 the pain, he pushed with all his might.

‘ Not long had he been at it before there was a
gratifying response. The desk began to shake,
and there was a creaking sound which told that

‘ the nails, or screws, were giving way slightly.

I With the smoke curling around him, and the

; red light owing stronger, he held grimly,

courageous y to his task, and one end of the

desk moved clear of the wall.

Collecting all his strength, he gave a ﬁnal
great push.

There was sound of rending wood, and then
the desk fell forward and toppled over on its
side. This meant a good deal to Caleb Cinders
for he was in such a position that he was afraid
the fall would actually break his neck. It did
not have this effect, but he went down with a
shock which almost stunned him.

.He struggled afresh, however, and then fol-
lowed an unexpected discovery.

He had done more than to break the desk
away—the fall had caused his bonds to slip over
one end of the desk, and they now hung looscly
upon his limbs. Hope sprung to the front, and
he hastened to get clear: of them altogether. He
could then reach his pocket-knife, and he drew
‘ it and began to slash away at the cords.

‘ It was not long before he leaped to his feet,

free from all impediments.

 
did not turn to the door.
the sink and turned en the water. He was de-
termined to tight the fire, and subdue it if such
a. thing was possible.

It took a long time, it seemed, for the pail to
ﬁll, but he stood gasping and coughing until it
was done. Then be repeated it with a second
pail, and began to shower the ﬂames.

It was a‘ hard, brave ﬂ ht that followed.
Any one less resolute wou d have despaired,
but not Caleb Cinders.

J u'st as he saw that victory was in his dgrasp,
a faint voice arose, and he discovere that
Horace Peach was conscious. It was a short
task to release him, and then the Coal-dealer
gave his aid
. Before long the last vestige of ﬁre was gone,
and the weak, blackened amateur ﬁremen
grasped hands in/ congratulation. When the
ﬂames were raging, Cinders had not dared open
the door, knowing that the breeze would fan
the ﬁre: but it was now done, and the fresh air
was very welcome to both.

They stood in silence for some time, enjoying

t. ,

“ Wal, thisbeats me l” Peach ﬁnally observed.

“ Strikes me we’ve beat it !” Caleb replied.

“ We! I ain’t had much hand in it; you’ve
did it all. Cinders I” and here the coal-dealer
seized the boy’s hand, “ I’m proud of you; I am,
by sixty! I on hev done work that stamps you
a hero. _ I’m as ateful as you please because
you saved my li 9, but that ain t much com-
palif'ilag to the glory you’ve spread all over yer-
” .

“ That’s not glory, but coal—dust!” facetionsly
returned the Castaway, as he rubbed 03 some
of the black smut.

‘ ‘ Never mind; you’ll be President, yitl”

.5 v (3.4 v.

 
The way of escape was at last open, but he 2
Instead, he ran to '-

Caleb Cinders. the New York CastavVay.

l

 
_,.__ ___ _- l

“ Drawr it mild, Mr. Peach. I kin seethrough _
you—~you want ter be my Secretary 0’ State,
but your politics may not be sound, an’ I won’t
premise. But this ain’t ter the p’int. Who did
this job?”

“ Mean scoundrels l”

“ I believe you.”

“ D‘ye know, Caleb, I hev an idea ’twas you.
they come ter do up?”

“ I know it was. I heerd them talk, an’ one
said it was pretty rough ter kill you jest because
I must be put out o’ the way.”

“ That settles it. But who set them on?”

Cinders shook his head.

“ You say!”

Peach pointed toward Proctorbam’s house.

“ I don’t reckon you want to go there alone,
after dark, ter get your clothes, now I”

It was asking a good deal of common sense to
believe that a man like Irving Proctorham was
the instigator of a murderous deed, or that he
Would ﬁnd it to his purpose to use such desper—
ate means to get rid of one so young and pov-
erty-stricken as Caleb Cinders, but what else
could be inferred?

Some one had tried to do the work: who else
would have any wish to wipe the boy’s name out
of the list of living persons? '

“ You’ve got to be careful now, my lad,”
gravely added Peach.

“ That’s about so.”

“If I was you, I’d stay in-doors.”

“ Wal, I ain‘t a- oin’ ter 1" the Castaway de--
clared, stoutly. “ won’t make no hermit 0"
myself, jest ter please them who hate me. I’m
goin’ ter be all the livelier. l’m little,but that’s
only all the more reason why I must be right on
my muskle. Hide? Not much! On t’other
hand, I’m goin’ter run them chaps down an’ see
them inside a prison-cell, b’jinks I”

For some time longer the two talked on the
subject, and then, when all had been said, and
their faces and hands well washed, they separ—
ated. Peach decided to stay there over night,
to watch his property, so Caleb started alone for
Alton Norway’s.

He kept his eyes wide open as he went, deter-
mined not to fall into any new snare. It was
not a pleasant feeling to know that secret ene—
mice were endeavoring to take his life.

 
CHAPTER XIII.
BEN BROWN’S FAMILY NOTES.

CALEB reached Norway’s house in safety,and
encountered that gentleman at the door. He
had expected to ﬁnd him at home and wonder-
ing why his young ally did not come, so the sur—
prise was mutual.

They went in and found Mrs. Garland in a.
very uneasy state of mind. Their prolonged
absence had led her to fear that some
come to them.

“ I can easil explain my tardiness,” observed ‘
Norway “ an I presume that our young friend
can do t 9 same.” - '

“ Rather!” the Castaway grimly replied.

“ Have you had more adventures?” asked Mrs.
Garland, anxiously.

"Not at all,but I have been trying to get
light in dark plaCes. When I left you, Caleb, I
went at once to see my lawyer friend. He (1
that his long legal experience as what may be
termed a specialist had injured his knowled eof
general law, but he was of the opinion this we
could properly demand and get all the informa-
tion in the Department’s books. Of course it
could be refused us, but our recourse would be,
in such a case to a judge before whom we
could lay our claims in the s ape of afﬁdavits.”

“ That looks favor’ble,” Cinders commented.

“ But we do not want to go to law.”

“ I’m afeerd you will have ter.”

“ It is not im rohable. When I left my le
friend I went a once to the house of one of 9
Commissioners. I found him a very pleasant
gentleman to talk with, and have an appﬁinh
ment to meet him at his ofﬁce to-morro , at
half- ast ten.”

\
“ hen he is going to let you see the books?” - .

exclaimed Mrs. Garland, eagerly.

“I don’t know,” Norway doubtfulli replied.
“ He said that he would ﬁrst look at t e record
himself and then decide.”

‘5 I bet ag’in’ you!” declared Caleb, with a
no . , . ,, ' -
“ You may be right; I confess that I am not
over»c0nﬁdent. As well as 1,,was used, there '
was much in the Commissioner’s mannerto dis- ,
coura e me. He said that in his 0 inion it was ,

often st to keep unpleasant fac s from those
who had gone out from their Department under '
such circumstances.”

“Con thetruth be worse,” asked Hrs. j: ’

arm had I «,

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Caleb Cinders, the New York Castaway.

1 1»

 
land,%uickly, “than what my fears will sug-
‘ gest, i our request is refused?‘

“Just the question I asked, but it made no
impression.”

‘ Putting other possibilities aside, I shall be-
lieve, in case of a refusal, that one of my parents
was a great criminal. Can the truth be any
worse than this suspicion? Is not the truth al-
ways better than suspense?”

er tremulous voice and her nervously-
waving hands showed how deeply she was agi-
tated, and Norway .declured that the truth
should be known if it was within the range of
possibility.

“If necessary, we will go to law!” he de-
clared.

“ I’ve got a new racket,” observed Caleb.

“ What is iti”

“Man down on Bond street who used ter
work for the Proctorhams years ago, an’ must
know their hist’ry wal. Been advised ter see
him i”

On being questioned, he gave full particulars,
as far as he knew them, and it Was decided
that the ex-servant should be seen the next

da .

ﬁrst of all the Castaway told of his narrow
escape from death by ﬁre, and a genuine sensa-
tion followed. Both Norway and Mrs. Gar-
land leuped to the conclusion that the attempt
on his life grew out of the recent events, and
each mind found the ﬁnger of suspicion point-
ing: to Irving Proctorham. . ‘ .

he subject was discussed in all its bearings,
and then the household retired for the night.

Caleb Cinders was weary, and he slept as
only youn persons can. If unpleasant dreams
haunted his rest, he did not remember them in
the morning; he awoke feeling refreshed, and
ready for more adventures.

He found Mrs. Garland cheerful, and Norway
in a determined mood.

The latter had found that Caleb was a person
to be trusted with any delicate mission, and
when the Castaway asked permission to investi-
ggte the Bond street clew, while Norway went
_ call on the Commissioner, his ally unhesitat-
inily agreed to the plan.

is the proper hour they started down-town.

The separated at Eighth street, for it was
there hat Norway left the Elevated Railroad
train, but Cinders rode to Houston, and then
walked back to Bond street.

Peach had described the Bond street party as
an old man named Ben Brown, who lived near
the Bowery at an unknown number, but who
was well known in that vicinity. The Casta-
way roved the latter statement true, for the
ﬁrs oun er of whom he inquired unbesitating—
lyéioint out the house where Brown lived.

inders was soon in that entleman’s room.

Brown proved to be a litt e, dried-u old man
who spoke in a squeaky voice, and di not hesi-
tate to talk freel .

“ Know the roctorhamsi" he answered,
when q: ~tioned. “ Wal I should say sol
Worked .or them boy an man, a good many

ear. Old Daniel lProctorham was alive when

went there, though his son, Burr, was then
ﬁfty years old. Daniel died, and so did Burr,
ﬁnally, an’ then come Irving, Burr’s son.
Thrt’a’e generations, an’ I knowed ’em all. Yes,
esl
y “ How many children did Burr have?”

“ Three liVed ter grow ugh There was Irving
an’ his sister—her name’s rs. L deckton now
—the live in New York. Then t ere’s another
son, .than Allen Proctorham, who’s out in
Californy.”

“ When did he go there i”

“ Thirt year ago. He run away from home,
Ethan di , after a quarrel with his father. He
went ter Californy an’ married there; an’he’s

at four sons an’ three daughters, an’ four chil-

en has died. The sons is named Ethan, Rlch-
ard. John an’ Waldo, an’ the girls is Amy,
Mary an' Martha.”

Ben Brown certainly appeared to have the
 history at his tongue’s end.

“ here - was them children born ’9‘” Caleb
asked.

“ In Californy.” '

» “ How old was their dad when he left here?”

“ He run away right arter his seventeenth
birthday.”

“ An’went right to Californyi”

If Yes. 1?

“ Aiu’ he never been back here?"

H No.”

, Here was a. disappointment for Caleb. As
soon as he heard of Ethan A. Proctorham he
" had begun to build ho es upon him, but this

information was decid ly against his theories.

He hesitated, and Ben Brown went on, glibly:

 
“ Ethan was a ﬁne boy; the best of all the
Proctorhams. His father was mean, an’ miser-
ly, an’ cranky; an’ Irving was even meaner.
Ethan couldn’t stan’ the ang, an’ he jest ups
an’ run away. Ginerally, oys who run aWay
make 3. big blunder, but he got out 0’ bad com-

an .
p “ {Nd he get his share 0’ his father’s money?"

Ben chuckled.

“ Guess you didn’t know Burr I’roctorham i”

“ No, I didn’t.” .

“ He didn’t have no money.”

“ But Irving is rich.”

“ He ain’t got so much as folks think, an’
what he’s got come other ways. Burr was
s’posed ter be rich, an’ he did have a few thou—
sand dollars, but not any great pile. He was a
miser, an’saved some, but he was the poorest
business-man you ever seen. N 0; he never had
much money. Irving’s goods an’ chattels come
from his mother’s side 0 the house.”

“ Who was she?”

“ A Beckwith. She come of a good fam'ly
an’ was a ﬁne woman. I never knowed her
fam’l , though, but they was New Yorkers.”

“ a’n’t there any other heirs-i” .

“ Irving Proctorhain must ’a’ been the near-
estz for he got the money.”

‘ I’d like ter know more about the Beck-
withs.”

“I can’t tell ye, but Irving‘s mother had a
relative—mobile a niece, though I don’t think
she was so near—who could tell ye all about
the Beckwiths. Her name is Mrs. Catherine
Richardson.”

“ Who?" cried Caleb.

“ Mrs. Catherine Richardson.”

The Castaway drew a card from nis ocket.
It was that given him by the lady on t e Ele-
vated Road, whom he had saved from being the
victim of a thief, and he behaved that he re-
membered the name.

He now looked at the inscription on the card.

“ Mrs. Catherine Richardson, No. —, Lexing-
ton Avenue 1”

If this was a coincidence, it was remarkable.

“ Where’bouts does she live?” he asked.

“ Up—town. som’er’s—on Madison or Lexington
avenue, I s’pect.”

Caleb asked several more questions, but soon
satisﬁed himself that Ben Brown had told all
that would be of interest, so he arose to go.
Just then the loquacious old man bestirred him-
self and inquired why his visitor wished to know
all this.

The reply he received did not reveal any-
thinﬁ and, hurrying out, Cinders was soon on
the levated Road again, and bound up-town.

His destination was Mrs. Richardson’s house.

“ Whethershe’s the same one or not it’s worth
tryin’ "the Castaway thought; “ an’ I’m oin’
straight to her. Jemima! wouldn’t it be iolly
of I’ve struck the trail, an’ kin have each a ind
old lady ter help me 1”

Youth is sanguine, and, cool as Caleb usually
was, he began to get in a fever.

Reaching the house, he rung the bell.

 
CHAPTER XIV.
WITH A REVOLVER UPON ms KNEE.

CALEB CINDERS was a natural admirer of
charming things, and he was duly impressed
when, in re onse to his ring, one of the neatest,
most rosy-c eeked and Element servant-girls
imaginable appeared at t 0 door.

He removed his hat with a raceful sweep.

“Mrs. Richardson in, mum " he asked.

“ No, she isn’t, sir,” replied the pretty girl,
with a twinkle in her e es.

“ Is she cut fur long? ’

“ Well, for some hours, for she left word that
she would not be home to lunch.”

“ That’s bad i”

“ Do you want to see her on business?”

:: kdig, that. D’ye know where she went?”

0.

“Sa—ay, has she relatives named Proctor-
ham?”

The pretty irl grimaced.

“ No. .l’ve eard her mention them—one of
her relatives married into the family—but she
won’t own any relationship. She don’t like
them i” , ,

“ Shows her good sense. Is Mr. Richardson
in the house?”

“ Why l he’s been dead ten

“0h! ’scuse me. Any chil reni”

“No. Are you the census-taker?”

The pretty girl spoke with a spice of sarcasm,
but Cinders coolly replied:

“ I be, mum.”

ears 1”

 
“ You look like it i”

“ Blood will telll”

The Castaway lifted his hat again, and stirred
up his luxuriant hair with four ilump ﬁngers.

“ Wish I knowed where Mrs. tichardson has
gone 1” he added, wishfully.

“ Perhaps I can tell," remarked a new voice,

. and another servant appeared at the door.

“Just before she went she wrote on a card.
She meant to take it with her, for after she got
into her carriage she observed to me: ‘ I’ve for-
gotten my card, but it don’t matter!’ Here’s
the card now.”

She had taken a bit of pasteboard from the
table and new extended it to the Castawa .
Several words were scribbled in pencil upon it,
and he read as follows:

“ Mrs. Beck, No. —— Greenwich avenue.”

Caleb looked n in surprise.

“ Who is Mrs. ecki”

“ Don’t know.”

“ EVer hear of her aforei”

H No.”

Cinders had—at least, the resemblance be-
tween the name end that of “ Mother Beck "
struck him very forcibly. Could it be that the
old woman had removed to Greenwich avenue
and was the same whom Mrs. Richardson had
gone to see?

He stood studying the card until the pretty
girl became impatient.

“ Well, are you ‘ in ’ for thirty days!" she
asked, partly.

“No; they let me off easy fur turnin’ State's
evidence a *’in’ you I” retorted Caleb, as he
handed bne the card. Then he raised his hat
again—there was a tremendous fund of polite-
ness in our Castaway—a nd bowed low as he
added: “Ladies, 1 hev the honor ter wish ye
good-day! May yer shadders never grow less!”

Then he walked dewn the stoop and away
from the house.

“I’ll be chewed up, individocally an’ collec-
tively, of I know what ter think 0’ this!” he
muttered. “Gone ter see Mrs. Beck, has she?
Who’s Mrs. Book? Is she my charmin’ frien’
Who set on her household goods, or ain’t she?
Anyhow, Mrs. Richardson is the Mrs. R. I
wanted fur ter ﬁnd. an’ it strikes me as odd thet
she’s gone tor see Mrs. Beck. We], b’jinks, I’m
goin’ tor do the same! Wish I had a vehicle—-
harnsome cab or Coop—fur I‘m gittin’ ter be a
perdiguous trav’ler.’

Not having the coveted vehicle he had to rely
on the means open to him. Norway’s liberalit
had given him plenty of pocket-money, and th s
helped him along so we] that, after using two
cars, he ﬁnally found himself at the corner of
Eighth avenue and Fourteenth street.

He trudged along toward Greenwich avenue,
which is but a few rods below. Jackson Square-
was clad in its brightest green, and several
children were enjoying themselves in that little
oasis of city life, but parks and recreation had
a? charms for the perseveriug investigator

en.

It was not many minutcs’ walk to the number
which he had found on the card.

The house, like nearlyall on the ding avenue,
was of plain brick, an had seen its est days.
iotng before Caleb Cinders saw his first day of

l e

There are some houses in every city that seem
to have the character of their occu ate a ad
upon the very building-stones, g or be ; but
others are of that rusty medium which gives no
clew, and they may shelter saints or sinners.

h Such was the case with the Greenwich avenue
ouse.

N o stylish carriage stood at the door and
Caleb concluded that he was not to see ‘Mrs.
Richardson, but he hardly had expected that he
would; it was the ma ic of the name “ Beck"
that had brou ht him t ere. '

After usin in eyes for awhile, hewalked for»
ward and u led at the door-bell.

A smal boy with a distorted face soon an—
swered the summons. . ‘

“ Mrs. Beck in l” briskly asked the Cast--

awayl.
u es."

“ Tell her a gentleman wants fur ter see her.”

“ Come in l”

The boy was as mechanical as a machine, and
there was no_ cause to suspect that he had an
emotion of his own. If the calmness was enu-
ine, his stoical air would indicate that alebv
might have asked for a lady-bug, or the Queen.
of ngbland, without causing him surprise.

Cale entered, and the boy closed the door.
Then he turned his face toward the stairs.

“ Come up 1” he brieﬂy directed.

d " Has Mrs. Beck lived here long!” asked Clar- .
ers. -

 
.,.

12 Caleb

» hwxﬁnﬂi-ng; -__.._.. H. ,.___,_g_ ' ~ ,,
. . .g.

.\

Cinders, the New York Castaway.

 
The reply was not intelligible.

“ Hey!” questioned the visitor.

The tacitura boy muttered somethin out of
which Caleb distinguished the wor s “ last
night.” Whether they applied to Mrs. Beck he
could not tell, but they c eered him somewhat.

By this time the scoond ﬂoor was reached,
and, as he turned around the balusters, the
Castaway had view of the hall-room at the fur-
ther end. There stood an aged woman, and he
felt a thrill of delight as he saw that it was, in-
deed, Mother Beck herself.

He was about to utter her name when the
guide pushed open another door.

“ In there,” he terser directed.

It was a large, rather cheerful room, and
Caleb walked in without delay.

“ Sit downl—come pretty soon.”

I'ith this encouraging statement the boy of
few words closed the door, shutting himself out,
and the adventurous Castaway was alone.

He was in high spirits over his success in
running down Mother Beck, but he assumed a
digniﬁed air and sat down like a substantial
citizen. Until he had seen the object of his

uest, he had not dared to believe, really, that
t 9 two Becks were one, but now that he was
on the scene, he began to ask himself how he
was to deal with her. ‘

What questions was he to ask?

Really, he had no proof that she knew any-
thin about the case which interested him so
muc , and as Proctorham had spirited her
away, it was to be presumed that she was under
the inﬂuence of that evil genius and his money.

Would she be likely to divulge her secrets
freely to a person as young as her present
visitor? '

Caleb was still wrestling dubiously with this
conundrum when the door again opened and
some one entered. It was not Mother Beck,
but a man, and the boy felt a thrill of uneasi-
. uses as he. recognized the fellow who had tried
to rob Mrs. Richardson on the train. r

The man sat down deliberately.

“ You’ve dropped in, I see,” he observed.

“ Yes,” Cinders admitted.

“ that do you want?”

“ I want to see Mrs. Beck.”

“ I represent her. State your business!”

The speaker’s manner was cold and calm—
as cold as ice—and there was a gleam in his eyes
which the youth did not like.

“ I had rather see Mrs. Beck,” was the reply.

“ You can’t see her.”

Curtly making this announcsment, the man
drew a revolver and laid- it upon one of his
knees.

“ You have got to deal with me!” he sig-
nificantly added.

“ Do you talk with guns?” uneasily asked
Cinders.

“When I run up against such a meddling
sneak as you, I do! I’m on to you, you curl
You‘re the fellow who tried to get me arrested
on the Elevated Road.”

Caleb was alarmed, but his apprehension was
not of a craven sort.

“ Didn’t you deserve it?” he retorted.

- “ No matter; you beat me out in a job I was
anxious to do. When you stood e g this
house, a few minutes ago, I saw you, n return,
b chance, as I looked down through the blinds.
hen you rung the bell, I at once told the boy
to admit you—otherwise you would not have
got, in—and here you are! How do you like
it?

“ The person I want ter see,” Caleb distinctly
announced, “is Mrs. Bee ” ,

“ You won’t see her! You will deal with me,
and don’t you think that I will fail to deal with
you! I’ve heard of folks being trapped, before
now, but you have walked' in on your own ac;
cord. Now you’re here, you will stay. If you
try to _go out, this ‘ barker’ will stop you!”

He raised the revolver and deliberatelycocked
t

.i.

.—

CHAPTER XV.
msn DISAPPOINTHENT.

WHEN Alton Norway set out for the ethos of
the Commissioners of Charities and Correction
he went very well clothed. The fact that the
superintendent had thought it necessary to turn
to a human dictionary, and ex lain hiswords
according to dictionary math s, still rankled
in Norway’s mind, and he hoped that it would
not be repeated. ‘

Although he had been dressed as a well~to-do
New Yorker generally was duringJ business
he? he thought it best to showt eomcials
m if as appearedtobethe ease,theyl’ad so

long dealt with the poorer classes that they did
not ex ct any apphcant to understand ordinary
Englis , and mistook all for the more ignorant
ones, he, at least, was able to wear good
clothes.

There was no unworthy motive in this resolu-
tion; it was partly because his pride had been

thought Norway, “is given careful attention.-
Now to See how these high city officials are im-
pressed by the case of a lady who wishes to

now who she is!”

The second Commissioner sat down at the
table

“Are you a relative of this lady, sir!” he

hurt before, and partly because he knew that 2 asked..

good clothes did have distinct inﬂuence:
went with a. tall hat and a cane.

been long occupied in his work.

Reaching the building, he entered promptly.
The scene he had before witnessed was being re,-

eated. There was the same melancholy line of
ill, broken-limbed, maimed, ragged and suffer-
ing unfortunates at the station of both the
su rintendent and the subordinate oﬂicer.

‘ Heaven pity them !" he thought. -

It was a gratifying feeling to believe that
their wants would be duly regarded by the pro-
per officials, and he proceeded to banish them
temporarily from his mind.

As he could see no other possible place be de-
cided that the Commissioners’ office must be
somewhch beyond the passage he had seen on
his previous ’visit, am he marched in that
direction without a word to any one. I

As he ascended the short line of steps and
passed the pile of applicants he saw the plump
policeman look at him doubtfull y, but he did
not pause. In the passage he encountered a

oung man who seemed to be a clerk, or book-

ee er of some sort, and he asked for the ofﬁce
of t 9 Commissioner at whose dwelling he had
called.” V

“ I have an appointment with him,"he added.

“The visitors’ entrance is by the other door”
—indicating a second passage, where Norway
saw a dozen men standing around—“ but,” con-
tinued the young man, regarding N orwny’s tall
hat “ you can go in here.”

e indicated a door near his elbow, and then
himself opened it.

Norway was thankful for the favor. W'as it
due to the appointment mentioned, or to the tall
hat! He never knew.

Entering the sacred region beyond he found
himself in a room which, for an ofﬁce, was of
good size. It had a decided air of business, and
seemed to be the quarters of busy men. In the
center stood a desk-table about ten feet long.
Upon this More papers b the quantity, all
showing more or less order y arrangement.

Only two of the Commissioners were present.
The President of the Board occupied a chair at
the head of the table, and was conversing with
a stran r on business. The Commissioner in
whom orway was especially interested was
moving idly about.

Norway had only had time to take in the gen-
eral aspect of the ofﬁce when the other visitor
departed by the second door.

en Norway addressed the Commissioner.

“ I presume, sir, that you remember my call-
ing at your house?”

‘ I do. Sit down, sir i” was the business-like,
but not ungracious direction; after which the
speaker turned tothe President of the Board.
‘ This entleman,” he proceeded to explain,
“has ca led upon me in r ard to one of the
children in the care of this apartment man
years ago, but now grown to womanhoods:
Actin for her, he wishes to make a copy of the
recor concerning her, as found on our books.”

The president listened attentively, but said
nothing.

“ The lady in the case,” pursued the last

aker, “ is tignorant of her parentage, and of
a 1 facts rela ng to her early life, although she
several times made inquiries in the past.”

1 The president maintained a thoughtful si-
ence.

“ Let me have the name,” added the Commis-
sioner, “ and I will see the superintendent.”

Norway made a few remarks which he tried
to make appropriate, and gave the gentleman a
slip of- per on which was written Mrs. Gar—
land’s c ildhood’s name and the date when she
was sent, by the Department to Maine.

The Commissioner hurried out and'a new ap-
plicant was admitted by the second deer tosee
the resident. He was a oung man who spoke
Eng ish with a strong rman accent. He
stated that he‘ was studying for the medical
grotession, and wished for additional facilities

see the workings of the hospitals of New
York and the cases therein .

He received courteous attention, and was re-
ferred to a suitable person, with instructions to
return if not successful.

He was bowed out just as the subordinate
Commissioner entered .

 
“ A man who wishes for medical knowledge,”

but he I
He saw the inﬂuence of those before he had 
i

} ly replied, “will not be inﬂuenced by my in-

“ I hope to be her husband soon, sir,” was the
frank, but grave reply.

“ Is this why .you wish for a copy of the
record i”

Norway understood the insinuatlon.

“ The event I have mentioned, sir,” be quick-
vestigation—it cannot be. My purpose is
fixed.”

“I judge that the lady occupies a good posi-
tion in life?” .

“ She has enough of worldly goods, and is re-
spected by all who know her.” i

“ Do you think she would be happier to know
the particulars of an unfavorable past?”

“ I believe that where information has been
so stoutly denied ’ in the past, the most un-
favorable facts cannot be worso than what
one would naturally imagine under suchﬁcircum—
stances.” '

“ it is my opinion, and in this the superinten-
dent aa'rees with me, that where a record is not
pleasant, no good can be served by makin it

nown. Of course we are willing and glmf to
make known all reasonable matters, but why
divulge secrets which cannot butcause unhap-
piness to those concerned?”

The very air was full of an unfavorable deci-
sion to come, and Norway was correspondingly
downcast.

lie was earnestly regarding the grave presi-
dent of the board, and, though that official
showeda decided dISposition to let his fellow-
Commissioner settle a case he had begun, N or-
way was about to appeal to him when the sub—
ogirgate darted a glance at his chief and briskly
a < - .

“ However, we are disposed to deal well with
all, and this case shall have my earliest atten-
tion. To-daywe are very busy; so bUsy that I
cannot stop to examine the record. ‘ I must ask

on to excuse me now, and leave your address,
instead. I will leok at the record, and write to
you within a day or two.”

Norway was dissatisﬁed, but what could he
do? To insist upon seeing the record would not
only turn the Commissioners against him, but,
no doubt, he would be ejected promptly.

All he could do was to rely upon the remiss
he had received, and resort to three s when
more harmonious measures had failed.

At the same time he had no faith in the prom- ‘
is: ; be believed that it was the intention to tire
out the investigation and the investigators.

He lspoke further, making as strong a plea as
hoco dfor his cause, and then left his name
and address and took his departure.

The Commissioner saw him to the door.

“ You shall hear from me in a day or two,”he
repeated: “ I will use you as one gentleman
should another.”

And with this promise ringing in his ears Nor-
way went out—out through the passage and the
big room with its melancholyline, and out to the
street again. . ‘

He did not go in 9. ve agreeable mood.

“ Delay follows delay! he muttered. ” Where
will it end? I suppose that I must be patient,
but I dislike to carry this news to Claribell”

There was no help for it, and he went home
and made his report. It was a sad disappoints
ment to Mrs. Garland. ‘

“ I am the only person known to be living to
whom the record relates, and it is refused meby ,
those who have only the coldest blooded interest
possible 1” she exclaimed, bitterly.

“ Remember the Commissioner’s promise,”re-
plied Norway ;but his own manner was dejected.

Caleb Cinders had not returned. They wait-
ed for him, h ing that he would bring good
news, but he di not come. .

Noon came and still there was no sign of
their young ally. -

By that time Norway had grown anxious, re-
membering that cne attem t had already been
made on the boy’s life, an he started for Bond
street. There he learned that Caleb had come I
and gone, so he went home to wait again.

It was a long wait. The afternoon passed
and evening came. Every effort to find him
was a failure, and Norway had grown very
much alarmed. He decided that if there was
no change by morning, he would notify the po

 
“W” I

ce. ‘
The ni ht passed, and morning came,
’ Caleb di not return. .

 
- i
= i 3. ‘3: _' ~:‘
44 AV.“ A V s. _

*4
_—._...
’1 /

.__._..
A .4-
..._._.s-. __

- '4

 
Caleb Cinders, the New York Castaway.

13

 
CHAPTER XVI.

DIRECT EVIDENCE AT LAST.

CALEB Cmunns looked into the muzzle of the
leveled, revolver with more composure than was
to be expected.

“Say, ef you’re goin’ ter do any shootin’,
s’pose you ive me one 0’ them i" he suggested.

“ You wi know it when I do!” his enemy re—

lied.
p “ Ain’t afeerd o’ sech a little chap as me, be
you!”

“ Not a particle.”

“ Then get another shootin’—iron, an’ le’s fight
a duel l”

The Castaway did not make the proposition
with any idea. that the man would agree to it,
or because he really wanted to fight as indicated,
but it was his nature never to be put down by
adversity.

“ You are to be shut up; that‘s t.':e ﬁgure for
you,” announced the thief. “ You have been
doinga good deal of leg-work, lately, and it is
time for you to pull up short. Your address
for the next few weeks, or months—-unless we
decide to dump on into the North River—will
be right here. e have a room well suited for
a risonoplace, and there on will stay!”

‘ I rotestl’ declared inders, stoutly.
“ A i right; do it!”
“ Itemme out, or I’ll hev the perleece after
on.
y “ How’ll you get to them?”

“ I’ll ﬁnd a way.”

“When found, make a note of it. I think I
can hold you fast. Now I’ll take you to your
Elba, and let me say that you are not to cut up
any tricks by the way. I don’t hear you any
good—will, and had just as soon nail you as
not. If you try to run, or raise your buzoo, I
will ank the trigger here. Are you ‘on?’ ”

“ 'ye really mean ter keep me here ’l"

‘6 Yes. 1)

“ You’ll be sorry i"

“ That’s my biz.”

“ Strikes me that I’m interested, too.”

“ You don’t hold a vote.”

“I may, later.”

“ If so, do me up all you can.”

“Thank you, I will; an’ don’t ye forget it.
Ef ou keep me here ag’in’ m will, you will
see he liveliest circus around ere, later, that
ever showod on this globe, b’jinksl”

Caleb spoke boldly and indignantly, but did
not succeed in making an impression upon his
enemy. That person arose, opened a side-door,
turned his revolver upon the oy and laconical-
ly commanded:

N Go in I” ,

There was no_help for it, and Cinders went,
slowly and sulkily enough. It proved that the
room was what was known as a “ dark ” room
~thﬂt 13,“? Md _110 Window which opened to the
outside world, air being obtained by a transom.

. Light was almost wholly lacking, and Caleb

could see nothing when he ﬁrst entered,

All this was so obnoxious to him that, despite
the revolver, he turned deﬁantly toward the
door and his captor, but the latter was not in a
mood of delay. He had stepped back, and the
door was already closing}.

It banged to, and the astaway was alone.

He sat dawn in a chair, somewhat disconso-
late but as level—headed as ever.

“ h’jinks! Here I am ag’in, high an’ dry on
a horstyle shore. Captervated, incussemted
an’ held ag’in’ all law an’ order. I deserve the
name ‘ Castaway’ now, of ever, fur rm
tr‘emenjusly shipwrecked. Nobody'won’t ever
ﬁnd me here, an 1 ess I’m in fur life.” ;

He shook his bee in a melancholyway which
was mostly assumed. ,

. ,He mig t feel dismayed. enough later, but,
just then, he was taking it in a serio-comic

mood.
After awhile he arose and looked around the‘

; room. The only point which possibly could be
termed weak was the transom. Caleb thought

‘ he could squeeze through that, but finding iron

bars on the further side, decided that any weak-
ness there was not very manifest.

Once more he sat down. He studied how to
beat his enemies but gained no idea.

In this wafv hdurs passed—how many, he had
no means 0 telling, but he felt sure that eve-
ning.th be at hand. Anyway, it was a long
an wearisome wait. Final] a quantity of
food was put in at the door. e tried to inter-

' ,' view the feeder, but failed—he retreated

s  t] I
‘- , It gasyhalf an hour later than this that the
or heard voices. They were not from the ‘
" a room where he had talked with‘the man with

 
had once been a door, which, later, had been
boarded over and closed, but not cut off by any
partition.

Such things, Caleb knew, were not uncom—

mon, and he had known amiable women to .

listen at such points to learn their neighbors’
business.

The Castaway now resolved to profit by ex-
perience given in the past—he went to the door
and listened eagerly. Muﬂied voices came to
his hearing, but the words were fairly dis-
tinct.

“ I tell you that you’ve made a mistake!” de-
clared an unseen s ker.

“ What also con d I do?” asked a second voice.
“ The. boy was dangerous.”

“ You did right to nab him—”

“ Then why do you complain?"

“ I refer to the woman. Great Scotti you
will have the liveliest row afoot ever heard of.
Such a woman as Mrs. Richardson cannot dis-
appear without a snare] howl I”

“ Let them how i”

“ Be sensible i”

“ So I will, Proctorham. Well, to face the
matter fully, they can‘t trace her here, for she
dismissed her carriage at Tiffany’s, sent the
driver to get one of the horses shod and came
llierenby car. Nobody saw her enter that knows

er.

“ She may have told her driver she was com~
ing here.”

“ From what I learned by skillfully question-
ing her, I think not.”

‘ Or it may be known at her home.”

“You are bound to look on the dark side,
Proctorham.”

“ I’m bound to look out for my precious self.
Mrs. RichardsOn is a woman who can wield a
good deal of inﬂuence, and if she gets loose,
now, 3you may as well check your trunk for
Sing . mg. Are you sure she cannot get out of
this house i"

“Dead sure!”

“ Is she bound?”

“ No; but her prison is secure.”

“I must leave it to you to look to that and
to hang to both her and the boy. As for Caleb
Cinders, make no bones with h m l”

“ What shall I do?”

“Can’t ou put him in a bag, and throw him
into the orth River?”

“ It might be done, possibly.”

“ Then do it i”

The rattling of a chair followed the last
words, footsteps were audible brieﬂy, and then
all became silent. The men had gone. '

“ Humph l” Cinders muttered. “ So I’m ter
be put in a bag an’ throwed in the river? That’s
cheerful, b’jinksl Ain’t heerd anything so con-
solatin’ sence some time previous ter no time.
But I ain’t in yet, an’, Proctorham, old chap,
I’m outer you l”

Proctorham's hand did indeed, show lainly
in the case at last, and Caleb felt that, if e was
clear of the house, he would be equipped for the
t1 ht better than ever.

ut he was not clear.

He looked wishfully at the transom, and then
drew the table to the locked door mounted
upon it, and tried the iron bars which shut him

in. - .

They did not seem to 'be particularly strong,
and the ends were buried in ordinary wood.

“ Ef I had time I could cut my wa out,” he
muttered, thinking of the sharp kn fe in his
poc et.

After much meditation he at the table back
where he had found it. o be ‘11 ‘ work at
igce would be reckless, for he. mig t have vis-

rs.

He sat down and endured another period of
idle, sinful waitin .

At set the house became perfectly silent, and
the distant sound of a striking clock conve ed
to him the fact that the hour of eleven ad
come. Then he put the table under the tran-
som and began the task of cutting away the
bars. A less saniiine spirit would have despair-
ed, for, keen as is knife was, it was not of a
size suitable to the work, and he had to labor in
the darkness.

Caleb Cinders, however, was not one to be
beaten without a struggle, and he began to cut
at the wooden frame bravely.

Hour after hour the fight went on. His
hands, hardened by toil though they were, grew
blistered. and his age and head ached but he
was making  Five bars had 'beenin
the way, and trequired an hour and a half to
get 13d of the first, but the others came a little

we er.

q Finall the last was removed, and just then
he hear the clock strike four. ,

 
Day was fast approaching, and not much time
remained for war .

He rested only a minute or two, and then
made the attempt to crawl through the tran-
som. This be accomplished after a good deal
ofd wriggling, and finally stood on the other
si e

He found himself in a. room ﬁlled with rub—
bish of various kinds—boxes, boards, and odds
and ends—but there was no window, and the
only door was that which led to his late prison-

room.

A ladder-like stairway led to the ﬂoor above,
however, and he began the ascent prom tly.

“ Don’t know what in p‘ison I shall ad,”he
Shought, “but I’m in fur the war. Never say

ie!

 
CHAPTER X VII.

THE FINAL STRUGGLE.

Tns: Castaway’s ﬂrst view of the ﬂoor Gin-JO
was encoura ing. lie saw a window, with a
faint light shining in, and the relief it gave him
was great.

“ B’jinksl that’s the pootiest sight I’ve seen in
an age. Cinders.old man. thar may yit be balm
in Gilliam fur you— Hullol"

He had made a fresh discovery; he saw evi—
dence of other light than that of nature. It
was the dull gleam of as through a s ace three.
feet long and eighteen nches high—c early, an-
other transom, with a cloth curtain. '

Caleb had an idea, and he found a chair
laced it by the door mounted upon it pushed.
he curtain aside and looked through the tran~

som. H e saw a lighted room, and there sat
Mrs. Catherine Richardson, wrapped in an un-
romantic bed-spread, keeping a solitar vigil.

His heart bounded with joy—he had ound his
companion prisoner.

But how was he to reach her? Of course the
door was locked. He ran his hand down to find
the knob, but touched a key, instead. It was in
the lock!

His face ﬂushed with joy, and, without sto -
ping to form any plan, he uickly turned t e

ey. Another moment and e had the door
open, and had entered the room.

Mrs. Richardson started up with a startled;
air, but he made a quick, warning gesture.

‘ Don’t speak above a whisper i" he cried .
anxious] . “I’ve come ter rescue you,but ef‘
them p’ son critters hear any sound, our name
is Dennis!”

Thte lady was looking at him in bewilder-
men .

” Say, you remember me, don’t 0!" he added.
“You seen me on the train, when hefeller tried
ter rob ye of the hand-bag. ’

“I do remember cu,” was the quick reply,
“ but why are you ere?"

“Ter rescue you. Jest believe that, an’ I’ll

‘hel’p, ye out in a jiﬂy. You’re a pris’ner, ain’t
ye

es.” . .

“ What furl” ‘ '

“It is the plot of an enemy named Irving
Proctorham—at least, I think so.”

“ Why does he want on shut up?”

“ I am trying to get acts which will deprive
him of ill-gotten money.”

“Say, tell me about it, uickl” urged Caleb.
“ I may be able ter help ye ” ‘

His excitement was catching, and some im-
pulse led the lady to conﬁde in im.

“ Twenty years ago Proctorham inherited
goperty which ought never to have been his,”

rs. Richardson ex lained. “ It appeared,
then, to be his right ully, for the only nearer
heir—a little rirl-—had seemed to die. Seemed
to die, I say; )ut, after many years, I have be-
come convinced that her death wasa sham ,that‘
he substituted another young‘girl for her, and.
that she did not die at all.” I

“ Where is she, now?” ,

“I don’t know, but I think that an old woman,
called Mother Beck could explain.”

“ Was the child named Claribel!”

“No; it was Eveline Vincent. She was my

cousin’s child, and a relative of Irving Proctor-

ham’s mother, which is why he inherited the
property when little Eveline seemed to die. But
wh do cu ask? Do you know of her?”

E’s er y Mrs. Richardson asked the uestion
and, av ng come close to the boy, 8 e stood
trembling with strong emotion.

“ Let me ask one more question,” replied the
Castawa . “ Hev you any idea what become 0’
that runs 1 heiress i’

“I have heard armor—Which I am trying-
to verify or distgrove by seeing Mother Beck—-
that she gave - e child to some orphan asylum.

Heaven knows what became of it after that l” ., .

 
A «av-.77>

 .““-b

:14

    
Caleb Cinders, the New York Castaway.

 
m
~~._-_ ..... .. .1a_. ... . ,_

“ Say, I b’lieve I know her!” exclaimed Caleb,
in great excitement.

is You,”

6‘ Yes.”

“ Do you really mean it! Do you mean it?”
tremulously demanded the lady. V

“ 1 do, fur sure!”

“ But wlierch—who—”

“ I know a lady—she’s a woman now, ye
see, an’ a mother, but she was a child twenty
odd years ago—who was an orphin asylum girl,
an’ sent ’way down ter Maine ter be cared fur;
an’ she’s tryin’ ter ﬁnd who she waS' an’ we
think Mother Beck put her in the asylum, an’
that Proctorham was in it—”

Mrs. Richardson interrupted his rapid speech.

‘al'lhike me to that girl, and I will reward you
we .

1811’s was put into the asylum by a Hul-

a __

“ I'luldah J 0y! The same; the same; old Mo—
...iesr Beck once want by that name I”

“ We ain’t found that the asylum records
ive only the first name—Huldah—but we hope
er find out more. But, great Scott! we’re let—

tin’ valnrblo time go ter waste. Foller me, an’
we’ll get out ef we kin !”

Caleb hurriedly added an explanation of the
situation and the need of caution was seen by
Mrs. Richardson, as well as himself.

They left the room, and began an effort to get
out of the house. They dared not strike a light,
so Caleb had to feel the way, and go very slow-
lay, but, for a time, luck was with them. They

nally reached thelower hall, and saw the gray
light of early morning struggling in throug
narrow windows beside the door.

But when they reached the door, it was found
to be locked, and the key not visible.

What was to he done!

Cinders looked out and saw two olicemen
' ssing at a slow pace, but, just t en, Mrs.

ichardson uttered a cry of alarm. Her com-
panion turned , and the si ht which he saw was
a startler for him, also. he man who had be-
come his 'ailer was at the head of the stairs,
lookin own in amazement; but as Caleb
turner , he uttered a ﬁerce exclamation and
came rushing dov n.

The Castaway realized the dan er and saw
that a crisis was at hand which uld soon be
settled one way or the other.

Turning, he dashed his foot through one of
the long lights of glass, and then his voice rung
out shrilly in the cry:

“ Help! help! Perleece! Help!”

The coat—tails of the two officers had just dis—
appeared, but Caleb had no fear that the
would let the disturbance go uninvestigate .
He uttered one more yell, and then made an
agile leap to one side as the angry thief tried to
seize him. Mrs. Richardson screamed, and a
blue-coated man came rushing up the steps.

The thief drew a revolver.

“ Break in the door! Murder!"

Cinders added this fresh cry. but the revolver
looked ugly, and he suddenly sent out his
strong arm in an accurate blow. It took eﬂect
on the thiei’s wrist, and the revolver was
knocked clean through the window. _

The appearance of the weapon seemed to set-
tle the casein the minds of the Voﬂflcers. They
had knocked in vain, but a lance through the
window had nrtially rcvca ed the state of af-
fairs. They ung themselves against the door,
and it ﬂew open with a crash.

They did not come any too soon. Caleb’s
enemy, almost maddened by his ill—luck, had
sprung at the boy, grasping at his throat, and
his su erior strength migl't have made matters
very angerous for the Castaway: but a c
from Mrs. Richardson, added to what was via -
ble, satisﬁed the oﬁlcers how they ought to pro-
ceed, and one used his club and promptly knock-
ed the thief down.

“ That’s the ﬂggerl” Caleb cried. “ Hang 

I the critter now!

“.What’s up here?” the blue-coat demanded.

“ More thingsthan I kin tell in a month' but
you jest obble this chap an’old Mother Beck
an’we’ll ev an explanation. It’s the bi est
riot some the war, but we’re on top. e‘ll
stay, too, fur the re es are all down like ten-
pins. Now, Mrs. Ric ardson, fur Mother Beck !”

 
An hour later Alton N orwav’s anxiety in re-

rd to Caleb Cinders was relieved by the lat-
g’r’s up arms, but the fact that he was ac-
companied b an elderly lady in an agitated
frame of min was pe lexing. '

Explanations cam ck and fast.

Mother Beck had n alarmed into a confes-
sion, and‘this, coupled with what Mrs. Richard-
son and Cinders know, had been enough.

i

l
I

ﬂ

 
The female child referred to by Mrs. Rich—
ardson had been heir to considerable property.
After her, the heirs were lrving Proctorham
and his sister, Mrs. Lydcckton. Covetin the
property, they had formed a scheme to me. 9 it

e elieved that the child was dead. Really,
Mrs. Lydeckton gave it to Mother Beck, alias
Huldah Joy, who, carrying it to the City Out-
door l’oor authorities, had represented it to be
her own child and left it there.

She had told a false, unfavorable story as to
its arentage.

' his child, we need scarcely say, had lived to
become the Mrs. Garland of our story.

After mar; y years Mrs. Richardson, who had
been a relative and valued friend of the child’s
mother, had gained a. clew to the facts, and it
was this which led Proctorham to abduct little
Allan and shut him u in the stable. He had
planned to decoy Mrs. arland away, later.

Mrs. Richardson was overjoyed to ﬁnd Clari-
be], and the latter at last knew her real name.
In their satisfaction they did not forget that all
tibia was due to a youth named Caleb “ Cin-

ers.

 
Irving Proctorham and his sister, Mrs. Ly-
deckton, were not prosecuted. The attem t on
Caleb’s life at‘the coal-yard had been ma 0 by
the rich man’s tools, but he had never author-
ized such extreme measures. It was also he and
his sister who had caused Mother Beck’s remov-
al after the latter saw the evil pair in the han-
som cab.

Despite all these things Mrs. Garland was re—
luctant to prosecute them, and, when they had
handed over the property they illegally held,
they were allowed to 0 on condition that they
leave the country. hey went to Paris lived
three years in great poverty, and then both died
of an epidemic disease.

The thief who had captured Caleb was sent to
Kirison, as were the men who fired the coal-shed.

other Beck, to drown her sorrows, drowned
herself in whisky and died in squalor.

N orwa did not again go to get a copy of the
records ut when, ﬁve months later, he was
married to Mrs. Garland and started on a tour
of Europe, no word had ever come from the
Commissioners who had promised to write “in
a da or two.” ’

Ca eb is no longer called “ Cinders,” but is
known by his proper name, Lyons. His ser-
vices were duly ap reciated, Norway took him
in charge, and he 9 now at school. When his
education is completed, Norway will see that he
has a good business chance.

He gives promise of having a career which
will put his envious relations wholly in the
shade.

THE END.

 
READY NOVEMBER 14th.
Beadle’s Half-Dime Library, No. 851.

The Tieﬁo Sport:

High Hustling at Sinners’ Flat.

BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER.

A Wild West story of unusual interest. in which
two 5 orts pla leading parts as do also Giant
Jim. t is Saint rom Side Ace, and founder of the
Fair Dove mine; Bil! Jingles always appearing in
the nick of time; aptain Brand. Guyon James
champion' besides‘photographing incidentsand life
at Sinners‘ F at. forming altogether a most interest-
ing work. which will be read with interest b then-
sands of readers who are admirers of Mr. ysters
popular novels.

Beadle’s Dime library,

BY J. (l. COIVDRICK.

752 The Sus act 8 rt of DaisyDrlft.
626 Ducats ion, t e Nabob Sport Detective.
612 Sheriff Stillwood, the Regulator of Raspberry.
598 The Dominic Detective. -
591 Duke Daniels, the Society Detective.
580 Shadowing a Shadow. ‘
565 Prince Paul. the Postman Detective.
557 The Mountain Graybeards: or, Riddles' Riddle.
519 Old Riddles. the Rock Ranger
499 Twilight Charlie, the cad Sport.
473 Gilbert of Gotham. the Steel-arm Detective.
452 Rainbow R1 1b, the Tulip from Texas.
436 Kentucky Jean, the S on from Yellow Pine.
4% Blue Grass Burt. the old Star Detective.
890 The Giant Cupid; or Cibuta John‘s Jubilee.
I .

 
......________.

BY DIAJOR DANGERFIELD BURR.

92 Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King.

117 Dashing Dandy; or, The Hotspur of the Hills.
11:! Cu )tain (,‘rimson, the Man of the iron Face.

1.16 \h- vet Face, the Border Bravo.
175 WildBill’s Trump Card: or, The Indian Heiress.
18.8 The Phantom Mam-mm: or, The Hyena.
41:5 liark Kenton, llic Traitor.

BY FIL‘LNCIS JOIINSON. ‘

25 The. (101'! Guide' or, Steel Arm, Regulator.

203 The Death Trunk; or. The Mountain Outlaws.
121 Aiapaha the Squaw; or, The Border Renegades.
12.1 kssowaum [he AVengcr; or, The Doom of the,

Destroyer.
135 The Bush Ranger: or. The Half-Breed Rajah.
1:6 The Outlaw llunler; or, The Bush Ranger.
13% The Border Bandit; or, The Horse 'l‘hicf‘s Trail

BY (.‘OL. TIIOMAS H. MONSTEIRY.

82 Iron Wrist. the Swordmastcr.

:4 The Demon Duelist; or, The Lcagu '- of Steel.

1131 The Czur’s Spy; or, The Nihilist League

15!) El Rubio Bravo. King of the Swordsman.

157 Mourud, the Mamelukc; or, The Three Sword-

masters.

169 Corporal Cannon. the Man of Forty Duels. 1
236 Champion Sam; or, The Monarchs of the Show
262 Fighting Tom. the Terror of the Toughs. '
332 Spring-Heel Jack; or, The Masked Mystery.

BY DR. J. H. ROBINSON.

Pathaway; or, Nick Wliiﬂles. the old Nor’west
Trapper.

Ni lits lade; or. The Robber Princo.

W iitelaw: or. Nettie of the Lake Shore.

Ilirl, the Hunchback; or, The Sautco Sword-
maker.

Silvcr Knife: or. The Rocky Mountain Ranger.

Hydrahad. the Si raiwler.

The Knights of the lied Cross; or, The Granada
Magician.

163 lien Brion; or, Redpath, the Avenger.

BY NED BUNTLINIE.

14 Thaycndanegeadhe Scourge ; or, The wax-Bugle.
16 The White Wizard; or. The Seminole Prophet.
18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Queen of the isle.
23 The Red Warrior; or, The Comanche Lover.
61 Captain Seawnif, the Privat-er.
111 The Smuggler (7a taiu; or, The Skipper‘s Crime.
1'32 Saul Sabberday, t in idiot Sply.
270 Andros, the Rover; or. The irate’s Daughter.
3Ii1 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot.
617 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail.

BY PROF. J. H. INGRAHAM.

113 The Sea Slipper: or, The FreebOoters.

113 The Burglar Captain; or. The Fallen Star.
314 Lafitte; or. The Pirate of the Gulf.

316 Laﬁtte's Lieutenant; or, Child of the Sea.

‘1
3‘

H
0;

553813

*‘I ‘l
«:30

*1

MISCELL \ NEOUS.

G Wildcat Bob. By Edward L. Wheeler.
9 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover.
10 Vidocq, the French Police Spy. By himself.
11 Midshipman Easy. B Captain Marryatt.
82 B‘hoys of Yale: or, T e Scrapes of Collegians.
By John D. V050.
60 Wide Awake“ the Robber King. By F. Dumont.
68 The Fighting Trapper. By Capt.J. F; 0. Adams.
78 The Queen’s Musketeers. 15y Georlge Albany.
78 The Mysterious S y. By Arthur ll . Grainger.
10.3 The. Masked Ban . By George L. Aiken.
110 The Silent Riﬂeman. By H. W. Herbert.
125 The Blacksmith Outlaw. By H. Ainsworth.
133 Rod the Rover. By William Carleton.
140 The hree Spaniards. B Geo. Walker.
144 The Hunchback of No tre ame. By Victor Hugo.
146 The Doctor Detective. By George Lemuel.
152 Captain lronnerve,, the Counterfeiter Chief.
158 The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. Frank Powell
166 Owlct. the Robber Prince. By S. R. Urban.
179 Conrad, the Convict. By Prof. Gildcrsleeve. ‘
190 The Three Guardsmen. BylAlexander Dumas.
261 Black Sam, the Prairie underbolt, By 00].
J o Yards. -
275 The Smug ler Cutter. By J. D. Conroya. ~
312 Kinkt'oot rl, the Mountain Scourge. y Mor-
ris Redwing.
330 Cop Colt,the Quaker City Detective. B C. Morris.
350 Flash Fatcon. the Society Detective. y Weldon

. o .
353 Bart Brennan; or, The King of Straight Flush.
Bv John Cuthbert. -
366 The Telegraph DetectiVe.
Morse. .
410 Sarah Brown, Detect! e. By K. F. Hill.
500 The TruevHeart Par 8. By Dr. Noel Dunbar.
518 Royal Richard, the Thoroughbred. By J. W

By George Henry

bon. v
534 Gram Mountain Joe; or, The Counterfeiters

Cave. By Marmaduke Day.

542 The Ocean Drift; or. The Fight for Two Lives.
B F Holt I ~

y . . .
545 Hustler Harry. the Cowboy Sport; or. Dari
Built Shark‘s. General Delivery. By William .
a on.

A new issue every Wednesday.
Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all

Newsdealers, ten cents per copy. or sent by mail oil .

receipt of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS.

Publishers, 98William Street, New York. “H .,

  
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MW 3“

 
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« ‘1‘ vi.“ “

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L‘s-non: ‘W

 
V 3993 Rough Rob

BY "LL CDDMES.

Cid Kit. Bondy. Detective.
I46 Kit Baldy, [Jun-envy; or, Silva Star, tho iloy Knight.
163 Kit Itumiy ln ’l‘exun; or. ’i'hu Young hiuntanger.
“08 Isl: lhlndy'u (Tutu-h; or, ’i‘hu liov ilnrculvil.
422 Kit Iﬁnndyht Right ﬂower: or. iiubv Smndim iioy Giant
44-1 Kit ilnndy‘n hooop: -r. Llltl. llln-knidn. liil' Contain.
4'”! Kit linlndy'u Slit-k Neheme: or. Hid 'l‘..nl lnutlcr,
60! Hit Iiundy'n Dellvernni-e: or. limumr lian.
“P40 Kit linndy‘n Pin-d; or. “Alliliii‘al Dan. the Freelance.
7!” Kit llnndy iinttled; or. The illinnti-‘innt.
70b Kit Bandy in lied Ruin; or. 'I'hn Yoin Whirlwind.
‘309 Kit Bundy’n Ill: llliatle: or, Smldiu Klnu Sm...
50.1 K“ Band)"; lirlgndc; or. Dan, the Mountain Guide.

Juek Draw, Detective.
‘58 chk Drew. lilo Nomi-Aim or. Ezluin Kit, tho lioy Demon.
1142 Jack Drew’u Drop: or, Little iilirrirnnl', tile iioy Captain.
202 Jack Drew in Deadwood; or, l’l‘llllmcl Petr.

Keen-Knife.
27 Keen Knife on Guard: or, Anti-lope Abe, tho Boy Guide.
in. Keen-Knife. tho l'rint'r ol‘ iiiu i‘imrma.

Other Novels by 0“ Coomen.
5 Vagabond Joe, the Yolan \t‘nndnring Jew.
18 The Dumh Spy.
4] Lulu-o Juek. tin- Young )llmtnngor.
58 The Border King; or, 'i'ilo Sorrel Foo.
71 Delaware Dick, the Young Rumor Rwy.
74 Hawk-ego Harry ilm Youllu'i'rnppnr Ranger.
83 Rollo, t e llo I anger; t)f,'l'llt'l’it'll’e'.
I84 Hure Hhot Net . th-v iiny illliﬂlllllll.
143 Bear- Fat-e haul, the Silrnt liliiltrl'
175 Old Nolitary, tho ilurlnit 'l‘rnpper.
3]” Tiger Tom. the Texan Terror.
234 Dnuhln Diekx or, 'I'rnppor 'l‘om‘e Castle.
ans Little \ Ildilre, the Young Prairie Nomad.
' The. Parson Detective: Or The Little Ranger.
243 The Dinxnined Guide; or. hm anon,tho in"...
260 Dare-Devil Dull, the Younlr i’reirio Ranger.
272 Mink-kin Mike, the iioy Shilrlmllooter.
990 Little Foxﬁre, tho iioy Spy; or, Old Caleb Arbucklo.
800 The h‘ky Demon; or, Rulnholt. tho Ranger.
‘84 “’hln-kinx Joe, tho Boy Rﬂllcht'i'n-
400 llert-Ileat hr, Dick, the Pay Ranger.
4!? Webfoot More, the ’l‘romp Detective.
45? Wingcdi‘oot Fred 3 or. Uhl l‘niar Soul.
468 ’I‘anmrne Tom, the ill: Trnpper llny.
432 Htonewnll ltob,.lhn llny 'l‘rman.
602 lllunderlnz lion-ll. tlm Hmnlt lioy Trapper.
652 Don Barr. the Plain: Fri-l-lnncv.
670 Norway Ni‘lu. the Big Boy Mountainoer.
‘378 Highland llnrry, tho Wizard itliluinan.

"Y T. C. llAllllAllGlL

28 Nick 0’ the Night; or. 'i'h~- iio Spy of'iG.
it? The Hidden Lodge; or The l. ttlv Hunter.
47 Nightin ale Nut“; M. 'l'no Forest (‘a taint.
84 "and look; or, 'iu- Outlaws oi'tho )rogon Trail.
8’) Kit I ttrei’oot. tho Wood-Hawk; or, old Powder-face.
94 .\i idnixbt J noel. ; or, The lioy Trapper.
100 Did Fronty, lho Guide; or The Whltn Queen.
‘33 Klown Charley the White Mualnngur.
189 Jud Jr.t or. The llo
165 i-‘rolt 'I‘r er, thn S mrt; or, '1‘ no (ilrl Avenger.
Iii!) Tornado om; or, njun Jack From Red Core.
188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy; or, Tim Mad Hunter.
10!" Arkannaw : or. The QlIm-ll oi Fnto’a Revenge.
30? Navan Niek. the Boy Gold Hunter.
9315 Cnptuin Bullet; or. Little Tonknot's Crusade.
at“ l'lneky I’ll“: or. Rona, tho Roi Jezebel.
241 “Ill Bravo: or, The ilongha oi the itockiol.
255 (‘aptain Anollv tno King-Pin of Howie.
967 The ltueknltln elective; or, The King of Road-ilgents.
$79 0ld “'Iuehlt or, Tue iiurimxin Desperado!!!-
‘294 Dynamite Ian: or, This Bowie iiiade of Oochotopo.
30” Tile Mount-in Deteetlvet or, The Trigger Bar Bully.
316 ,0” Lellpne. Trump Card of Arieona.
826 The Ten l'nrdot or. The Tarror oi‘Tako-Notlce.
$86 "It Bell-on; or, The Quunn oi' the Limo.
345 l’ltileu Matt: 0', Red Thillli‘lt‘liroli’l Secret.
35d Cool hunt and l’nw't or Tho'i‘orriblo Six.
366 Velvet Foot. the indian nrturtit'o.
3N“ Captain Cutlauz or. ’1 ho llr'ccnneor’l Girl Foo.
0". Tile iwin Champion: of Blue Blane.
  Hllil‘ken a mam: urhTho Raﬁ o! Ranch ilohin.
‘g x 03:. m 0y . no er: or. In Gold 0 . .
4485 gﬁf‘az‘ifrnmp. gm Sandor Rattler. an“ 0"va York
86 non l o ow orx Fox; or The M Iii-l" oiRooi .
445 The City V’nmnlreat or. itud Roife'l PiK’LIm,‘ "9!
46 I. 0no AguinIt Fiﬁyt or. The Lilli. Man of Keno Bar.
470 The lioy Hhadow; or. Felix Fox’o Hunt.
477 The Exeeinior Hportt 0". The Woobington Spotter.
409 Single Hi lit. the Ono-Eyed Sport.
602 Branded ten. thn Nltzhl r‘orri~t.
612 ‘Ioduer Diek. the WimriZSpy Detective.
)odm-r liiek‘a neat Dodge; or, The Gotham Gold Gang.
i‘ox nnd Fiiieon. lllt' ham-ry Shadnvn.
lodger- Dit-k. the Dock Ferret.
Dodger Diek’n Double: or. Tho Rival Boy Detective;
)odizer Diek’n Deupernte (‘n-e. ‘
563 Dodger liiek. the Boy Viiim‘q: or, The Gong of'l‘hrge.
“78 The T‘vo ﬂhndnwa; or, Dmiul-r Dick‘s Stop Game.
632 "od'or Incl“; "pop; or, This Mun from Jersey:
‘94: Little Lon. the Sirc-etﬁlngvr ih‘iw‘tiw.
Clo 0h] ﬁklnncr, the Gold Shark; or. Tony Sher on Guard.
626 The Champion I’m-dug or, 'l'hv lluciiert; Silvar Bar.
687 Dlek Donn. the Dock ilnv Dl‘lt‘l‘tlve.
045 Kit. the Pavement Slim-n.
058 lily Bantam, thn Bov iii-Mi“-
671 eruey Jed, tln- Bov “nation or. Shadowing the Shedowor.
:5 Happy iill it, the Boy Mnsivinn iii-ti-rtive.
I

e L 'neh Vigilante.

 
Photo rap Fred. lho (‘nmurn Sharp.

5 “'lde wake Len, tho Qllilkl‘i' City l'n-rret.

"all! Deli. the Pavement Don-min»: or, Trapping Big Game.
In“! Winks, tin: Boil iioy Deli-rtivu.

“inf Winkl, the lines Boy Shadow.

6 Eng 0 Ned. the Boy on Gourd: or, The Camp Spiderl.

30 Tonia-way Tom. the ma Wizard.

HY BUCKBKIN 8AM (Malor Sam. S. Hall.)

084 iild‘Roeky’e " no eon or Bonito tno Hone-Brook"
Illa Giant George; or, {'he A‘nz’l'of the Range.
.75 Arizona Jack i or, Giant Georgo’e Pard.

8
4
5

unknnwna
roam

 
‘9 he Tarantula oi' Tam: or Glnnt Goo o'e Rovon
80‘! The Strange Paul: or, ilttl'e Bou’r Dnntlh Hunt. 9.
8‘8 Ker-WINGS. Ker-whoa : or, The Tarantula of TN)!-

| .2? Creeping at. the Caddo; or.’i'he Red endWhito Perdo.
88' ‘rio Fred: or, The Tonkeway’e Trent.

' 844 'l he Flfhting Trio: or. Rnttlunnke, tho Tonkawoy.
 ¥‘lldlt\:'?‘l:|ilgr,|§iz-Fnoi Walliace to the Front.

. ' a on or. T e Bi -
.61 Snap-Shot. the’Boy (anger. on or F0" P“an
375 Chlo‘tn. the Greek: or. The Three Thunderbolto.

881 m- --a Bill: or. Frio Frank to the Front. ‘
893 .l mac and the Roda; or. The Bola-nerd Beach.
404 J . ttle Lariat; or Pocon Pote'o Big Rampage.
‘1 i “he Daley from enver.

r e Three Trailer-t or, Old Rocky on the leave”:

B If Bill; or The l.an oi the boat.
5 tht e Lone litarl ' .Th CM.
_e4 Cache Carl. the chili out?" m"

 
i

 
- 527 The Jolly

BY ALBERT \l'. AlKl‘ll‘.
ll The Two Deteeﬁven; or, Tho Fortunoo oia Bowery Girl.
7“ Abe roll. the (Irow-Kiiinr.
7i, Hui Ginger, thr ir‘innt 'i'rnpper.
838 Joe lint-i. ol'Angein und “in lloy Purd.
New York N at. A 'i'nio uf’l‘rlcka nnd Traps in Gotham.
4.3.“ New Englnnd Nit-kt or. The Fortunoo oi'u Fondling.
Nimble Nick. the Cirrus Prince.
49“ 'l'no- ’i'ed. tun Arieonn 5 ion...
510 Cool Colorado. tho iluli-iln-ed Drtectlw.
513 Cool Colorudo In New York; or, The Cowboy's Fight.

ii \ ii [CHINE It} (i. J Eh K5.

4H6 Git 'I‘bnr "to-Icy liw Unknown.
4023 tilt 'l'bur Owney’n I'ledze.

3 The Demon Dot-tor; or. ih-udholli, tho Kid Detel-tlvo.
l’tillllli‘-(‘III‘Y(‘ DIIII. llIv i‘iil'hvr lh-tvt'tlvr.
Gil-i Flute, iiik‘ Singrr Hutu-dive; or, “win-y inn Now Hold.
605 The Plteber Deiet-tlve’u Foil; or, lhui'u lioubiu Play.
ill“ The Del-nu Deiet-tlH-i or.’l‘ho LusiCrulnl- oltho iiluck Bear.
The l'lil'lli'l’ Deieriive'u ’l‘ongbeut Tum-lo.
' Lnrry the Thoroughbred; or. iieatun ou Evury Side.
Tali Iron “and, liio(‘ilurnll-li Drtui'til‘o-

Ii Y 1‘" A Ii LEN . "KRIS.
llhi “'Iil Homer-o. lhu iio) Duloi‘tlvo.
‘22 Phil "lll‘il ‘,tin- iii-rill iii-y.
l2 l’lvlu’nnu ‘t-m-r or, Nh-mlmnus, tho Dog Detective.
180 Detective Dick: or. 'l‘in- lit-ro in Raga.
142 Handsome Ilnrry, lhu iioolivlm'k Detective.
147 \Yill \VIldll re, thr- Thoroughbred.
152 [Hui-k "can, \i'iii \i'lidﬁl'e'a “Mar.
15’: MILo Merry lin- liarlwr l‘olil'n Boy.
16% “’Ill “'ildilrt- In the “'oodn.
165 "lily lhlgguge, tile itniirom‘i iii-y.
.\ 'l‘ruml. can]; or. \\'ll| \\ iidiiro “'ine and Lu”.
7-} "ob lint-hell t or, Myth-rhino! Now York.
79 Bob lieu-ken tln- iiunk ilunnor.
Hit The Hidden ilnnd; or, Will \Niidiiro'e Revenge.
Fred Ilalynrd. tin- Lin- iloat lloy; or. The Sniuggloro.
"ob Ikm-kett; or. lh‘lvun in the \"nil.
“Ni Nhndowo‘l ; or. iloh itovkrtt'l Fight for Llio.
200 Dark Pnul, tho Tiger King.
913 Dunhlnx Dave, tilu ilnnily Detective.
220 Tom Tanner; or, The iiim-k Show]! oi the Flock.
98.") Hum Citareoul the l'rmnlum liarky.
985 Nhadow Hum. tho Menu-llger Boy.
942 The Two “ Blood: "3 or, Shouniniouh ilill and Hie Gang.
“5” Diek Dunhnu'nyx or, A iinkoiit iioy ill Chicago.
2 The Young h‘hurp-x or. itollivklng Miko’o iiot TreiL
974 Jolly Jim; tho iiutei‘tivu Ap irentiru.
2ND Jolly Jim It Job; or, 'rhn Your: lintol-livo.
995 The \Vntchllound; or, '.o on": Thoroughbred.
305 Dani-away. ni‘ Dakota; or, A “'i-Iiorn Lad in Quuuor City.
894 iiltipil lleudy. tho Hotel iioy Dotevtivo.
8-il ’l‘ony 'rhornl‘. tho Vngahnnd Dotertive.
858 The ileporter-licteetivet or. Fl’t'il l-‘lyer'o Bliuerd.
367 \l’ ide-Awuku Joe: or, A Boy oi the Timoe.
87” Larry. the I‘cveler; or. 'l'ho ill-lode oi the Boulevard.
Fireﬂy .lnek. lilo ilivor-Rut notei'tive.
49” The Loot Fin er: or. 'i‘ho itnirappod Cashier.
423 Fred I“I 'er. tin iltvporivi' iiotoi-tive.
482 Inviner e Lounn, the Pinkerton Ferret.
466 llllly llrlek. tho Jolly Vaximond.
“'ltle-.\\\'ui.'e .l errv, Dom-live; or, Entninhod Alive.
479 Detective Doll e: or. The ltivpclery of Frank Hearty.
49H “ Ild Dlek line (It: or, How He Fought for Honor.
Boot-I. the lloy Fin-mun : or. Too Sharp for the Sharpoe.
new The Heeret N-rviee Ilov Deteetlve.
696 Jim!" ' the Kid or. A .nmh Anion Wolveo.
" Tom {rueo oi rluuieuut or. The oifin the Fold.
655 l’lneky Paul. the lloy ﬂpeenlator.
till? Bob and Sum, tho Dniuy Donal-tires.
709 The (‘nrbni one, Deteetlvei or. Harry Hoio’e Big Beet.
757 lieteetive l‘runk'n Sn’eep-oiakea.
“Y J. WY. DNIIDN.

469 The Rival Giantu ofNowhar‘.

49H i‘uetno linrr. the Man Il'uiil Hard Luck.

587 Did ilm-keﬁ'e. thu Sierra Shadow.

564‘ Powder P ll, the Boy Miner; or, The Man Withoutel’ut.
609 [toll Dorrli. the Veteran Di-toctivo.

620 tht 0 Li htninfr'a League: or, The Mvotory oftuo inland
088 Plrit-ky Paul, tio Boy Pmapnrtor,

751 Gold-Dun Dan. the Trail l‘nti-nl.

755 Gold "not Dnn‘o (lath; orI livrkleeo Roy, tho Regulator.

“Y J" l’ll‘lliillﬁ.

Bil? "oh 0' the Bowery : or, The Princo olMulborry Street.
415 The Yngabond Deteetivet or. Bowery Boh’o Boom.
450 llotn ur "ob, tho Sti'oot-lloy Dnteﬂive.
460 The .awyer’n thdowt or Will!“ inur-
479 .l nnuty Joe, the Young Horne-King.
494 Nuriy Him. tiw Young Furrynmn Dotoctivo.
504 Fly“ Poll"; Phil, the i‘nn-nwni Promo.
50” Jack Ju go", the iiutvhrr Boy Detrcuve.
5'" 'I‘nrl “r In“ or. Fivv l’oillta l'ilii’lt Menagerie.
520 North River Nut. i-iH' i’ii‘l' Dl'ii‘CiiV“~
533 Vl'reutllmr Hex, the Pridroi'thl- Sixth Ward.
5-“ Jeii’ Flieker. llil' Stahlo Buy Dntoctivo.
55l Nlek Nellie, tim Iiov Silnliow; or, The Old Well Myetory.
559 lllll‘ll'lll Jul-h, iiil‘ ()ﬂin- iioy lh-lw‘iivn.
560 Brooklyn lien. thl- (in-“invan-llook Detective.
5 Pavement Pete the Soon-t Sifter.
i588 Jnek-o’-Luuiern. the [Yndor-Sl-u l’roopactor.
“08 “(hie-Awake lleri. thl-Stm-t-Sternr.
014 “'ilintllng Jneob. tin- ill-tortivo’l Aid.
623 nut-k Bumblebee, tho liurlmn liuminer.
“39 BIllu'lue Hnnl thuExpmnv'l‘i-nln Ferret.
049 Gltluin Duluth» iiowrry “minor; or. Scooplng e Slippery Bet.
058 Sky-Noelle! Rob. tho Lilo-Savor.
“"3 "ﬂiim‘ier Hui. u..- Nm ml. Navigator
09-h Hniey Jim, tin- nulv One of Hi» Kind.
700 Tom Thlutle. llm Rmul-llonm~ Detoctlvo.
7‘7 lilo-quilt) din-k. the ililutlor Galliln.
720 Danni: Dnir thn- Brown S mrt'l Kid.
744 '2'”: of tin- Doolu. tho . mini-Vi ntch.’
 Iti’i‘vpel‘r FJ¥l|3,l::it-l§lreot Patrol.

‘ - y "t‘ N t ard 07.1110 Kt!0ni.'l”l llu e Hustle.
781 Cult-(Hf Cale. the grain-wilt lietw'tivc. I

II V I'll l Ll PJI. W A ll N I.

6'! Patent-Leather Joe: or, Old Rattiunnko. the Chomer.
176 Captain Arizona: or. Pniont-lmathor Joe'n Big Game.
10!! Captain Monk t or. l’ntont-Lorthor Joe’s Defeat.

319 lie-Dara. the Duelist: or, The Mountain Voniplroo.
888 A Ton oy t or, The Dwari’l Revenge.
863 Little ornadoa or, The ()utcanto oi'lhe Glen.
878 Little Jinxo; or. the Queor Ford.
883 Little iIh-myl, or, Caught in llle Own Tran.
401 Little ﬂhoo- Iy; or, A Rare fora Ranch.
408 Littlo Leather- llreeehen : or. Old Jumbo’l (June.
48] Little Ah lﬁlnr or, The Cum of iliood.
45] (‘olorndo Rate. A Thin «rill. Min”.
‘80 Three Jolly Parda: or..’i‘lu~ l’ote ai'Peddy'e Flat.
51? Jim Gludd r'h Deputy; or,Tho Jolly Pard’o Com sign.
urdr to the ll entitle-t or, The Jocko Henrto.
‘47 R‘mdy Andy: or. A Good Man Down.
 girlislo‘t‘t' Lil; '47:. The East (or a Llir.
. ens-e - .on. t ? Man with the D
598 rKcen Clem. the Ranch imp. . a“.
599 Jim Dandy the No-Nama short.
61!! Billy Blaze-t or.-'i‘hr Sknieton'o Legacy.
222 ii"“"‘"ii" "' ""iai‘i'iﬁlma‘ “wit. my
appy nrry o g n t or *1.
«4 Cheeky Charley n... Special. '

 
BEADLE’SrHALF-DIMErLIBRARY.

Publist Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform, Price of [Wm (Tan/x. No Double Numberl.

 
"Y JDHI'J'iI l'.. HAD“ E“. J“.
2 Yclluu'nione .l ne-k; or, 'i'hn 'i'rn -pm.
4“ Illnek John, the itwui-Aunnt; or. i'nu (Jutlaw’o Retreat.
(if) Ilurriennt- "III; or. Muxtnng Sum nnd Iiin Paul.
110 )Inatun Hum or.’l‘hu King oi the Plaino.
186 Night-tfuwk 'lt; Ivr.'i'he lmnuhluroilim Ranch.
144 llnlnty Litm'e tin- iioy Sport.
li'rl Panther I’unl: or, hitiili) Lnlli‘o in tin- lloocuo.
“iii The llineh iiinntt or. ihlillly ano in Juoperdy.
liiri Deadly "null; orV Fighting Fil‘v with Mr».
IN} The Ii»in ’l‘rnlleru: or. lminiy Linn-o on tho War-Path.
203 The Ilo l’urd-z or. lhlinty Lulli'e Uninaekl.
ﬁll (‘roohet ('Illl‘, tiln ('uiiinill ivl‘i'elnalilti Cil)‘.
BIO 'I‘Ilu "ﬂy-rung. \"oll’; ur,'i'ilo iit'iillllilli Decoy.
Bill The Hint-l. llldert ol‘.'i'lu- iinrw-l‘lilrvoe’langue.
885 Did Double It‘lnti or. The Strange (luldo
355 'I'iltl Kinn- oi the \‘l'oudu: m iMnlul lioone'l Leet Trail.
‘lii Kit Fox. the ilordar iiin' lintnetlve
02:» i‘hlm-nnln Dun. the lloy Trailer.
0?? (‘hinennln llnn'n Heeond 'l‘rnil.
0H!" i‘lIIm-nnin Dnn‘u Ilonu- ﬂirt-tell.
(HON illd i‘rnzy. lin- Mun \\'llimnl n liund.
70H Light-Henri. Lnie'n- IA'KIH')‘.
TIN LI iii-llenrt l.nte‘~ Lnni ’I'rnll.
728 Hi verblnde. the Him-bone.
729 Nllt'erbiudtl. illt' liuiiliilnnd; or, The iiordor “rule It 30,.
730 Hiivei'blmle, tho llnuiilv; or, The iinlile‘f ituux‘o‘e Trail.
74?! Nllverblndo tho h'rn-ndly; or. 'i‘In- ltnrdl-r llvagle’e lloy Paid
Ii Y I‘IIHV A "D \l' l LLETT.
I“? Ann ﬂuent, the Stuainbont iioy; or, Thi- Mininippi Pint.-
199 Featherweight the iioy (:nnnlpll-n ul thu Mono-gum.
i323 0znrll .r\li'° or, Ft‘ntilrrwuiﬂili Among the ()ntiawe.
ﬁrm The Typo lieieetlye; or, “'uanoi, the iioy Tramp.
395 Fourier-ll I’hli; or. The King at Quoruville.
81 l The Ilovinli Sport; or, 'l‘hr i‘riuir oi” (‘Imoknlmk Camp.
822 Nome. the leteetlvet or, Kit Kim 'on‘l Vondette.
I40 Clip the Colltortlonlatt onTh- imltnno “(ii-lit!-
II Y J AUK FA It It A “FT.
815 Ned. the Cabin Ito" or. The Witch of the Feet.
330 The ﬂea Soreerenns or. The iii-y skippor.
“Y Lll‘lli'l‘. II. D. I'I‘IIiIlY. ll. 8. N.
176 The lloy Rum-way; or. The anranoer oi the Bay.
1H0 ’l‘ho Hen Trailer: 0?. A Vuw Wail Kalil-
199 Captuln Kit: or. 'i‘hu lily-don oi Montauli Point. 
ll Y CAPTAIN .\i A Y N I“. ll ICID. ‘
78 Blue Dlek or, The Yellow Chiof'e Vouxoanre. v
8'! The Land ’lratee or, The Loaguo olihvii’o Ill-d.
187 The llelnleaa limit 3 or, liarkwoodn mtrlbntha.
939 The (inld-neeker Guide! or. Tho Loot Mon-HI.

llY CAPT. ALFRED ll. TAYLDII U. U. ‘0
liil llumtlo Billy, tho Boy itullwhaakov.
194 liuil'alo Hill I Hot; or. 'i'hn Gambler Guido.
DY CAPT. MARK WIL’l‘0N.
350 Young Kenton-k; ul‘, Thu Rod Lao-o.
970 llllnard Dent or. ’l‘ho Rlnt at Keno Camp.
080 Jonh. tho lioy Tendon-foot.
BY MAJiIIi E. L. 81‘. VIRAL“.
998 Rancho Pedro the iioy iinlnlit.
301 Leudvillo Nit‘ tin iioy Sport.
ﬂlﬁ Iledton Ilubo, the Vigilante Prince.
8118 llrlmutono liob. nml Hill Lightninu lioroo QM

Bﬁ 'l‘olnbutono Tom. the Arizona Boy oi "Sand."

59 Dnrnnrro Dave. the \‘uunu illnnm-u n to mum.
'71 Kill bolt Chrin, tho YMan Hard-Shell Detoolve.
880 Avn uneho Ali‘. tho Fonthilie Guido.

890 Jaguar Joe. nl'tlm Mountuln Mall-lino.

HY lClHl’AliD 8. ELLIS.
0 "ill lllddon, Trapper.
8 Seth Jones; or ' ' lo Cnptlvee of the Frontier.
2 i0 Nat 'l‘oddt or, ‘l‘he Fato oi'tho Sioux Captive.
'31 Tue Frontier Angel.
98 The Iloy Miner-x or. The Enchantnd inland.
189 The Hunted “outer; or, The Strum e Hone-ll.
.54 The llulf-llloodt or. Tho Panther o the Plain.
‘71 The lingo Iluntert or. 'l'ho Steam Prairie MD.
M IBCELLAN Elli}! A U'i‘llonb.
4 The Wild-Horne lluntera. By Capt. Mayne laid Ill
Frederick Whittaker.
9 Adventurer of Baron Munehaueen.
10 Hulllver’n Tran-lo. By Dean hwii't.
l4 Aladdin: or, The Wonderiul Lamp.
Iii Robin-on Cruaoe. (‘11 illuetntione.)
18 Hindlmd the Sailor. ilio Suven Voyageo.
20 The ﬂea Serpent; or,'l'ho Boy Robinson Cruoe. I, Jana

Low I.
88 The (Dec-an llloodhonndl or. The Rod Piratee oi the
Carrillo". iiy . \ '. Pierce.
Mi The lioy Clown: or. The Arena Queen. By I. 3. Fill.
BM Ned \Vylde. tho iioy Scout. By 'l'uae Jack.
5| The lloy Itiileat or, Tho Under round Camp. By A. (Lime.
96 The lllval Rover-t or. The reoh0oten or the Mini-dim
By Liout.-(Iol. ilualtino.
98 Robin Hood. tho ()uilawed nil: or.1'hehiorry Non oi Greel-
wood. B Prof. Glider-lone.
105 old Ru r, tho iluntert or, The Crow Oeutivo. '1 Captain
Hauillton Holman.
119 The Mad ll outer: or, lilac". of Death. By Berton“
1“ EPPJ. the Texan: or. The Young Champion D, 0.0!.
u n

0! l .

188 The Your: ’rlvateort or,'l‘ho Pirate'l stronghold. ly
Harry Cavon ioh. ‘

148 Sharp Sum; or, Tho Adventuree oi a Friendioee Boy. I, J.
Alexander Patten.

"T Iluaky Darrell. ’l’ra per: or.’l'he Green Reugerelile Ye].
lowatono. lly Edward meroon.

961 Formu- l’earnau ht the New Y irk Boy.. B O. L. Aiken.

.06 Kilih‘ur. the (in do; 'Ir.Devy Crockette “ Tn",
By Enale C. I). anon.

293 lied claw. tho Ono-Eyod Trapper; or. The Maid oi the Gill.

ain Com-tool-
317 lﬁzfggi'l.’ l’ete. the Lively Lad iron) Leodvillo. By Hel-
tenant Alirod 'I'horne. '
3.8 The sky "punitive; or. A Boy el'ieht tor Lilo.“ Honor.
8 Meior Mickey ""
850 l ed Ralpgmtge tRiver llovert or,'l'ho W. l.
. B e on III-
885 llxliimoyre “on "10 BMWDCR DOWNVI- B A. P. leak.
874 Gold-limit Tom! on “W'I Donhk Much. {6 ll. lone.
876 California Joo’e Flrlt Trail. By Cooaol The-
H0 or hlonetery.
413 m l, “awn-lieu, the Chi! Climber. ‘By 1‘. s. Winthrop.
15 The “luck lihi . “y Johns Warner.
so Commit-ho moi: and in. Three Inn-em... by
Henry J. Thomao.
588 The 00wa llulte. By Edwin Brooke Forte-i.
552 Ariel tho At into. By David Druid. ‘
535 Will Water-a. tio Dov Ferret. Bv ll.lntoe. .
080 The Dead “rteetive'e Double. By Goreld Carlton. ‘
791 Maverlek,.\iom the Arleona Intuitive; or,“e Wiuldd
ilrko» Pane. Hy “' ll Lin-lib...
809 Don Danton. tho Gent from Denver. By King [nonﬁelﬁ
U. 3. Secret Service Corpo.

A New lune Ever-y Tueeday.

The Half-Dine Libra to for eele b .n to.
out per m. or oont by mutiny! Ieeetpt oi oi: yooaie eat-1M

awn AND nuns. rum-eon. ' 
Oi! Willia- Itroet. new York ‘ i

 
BEADLE’SrHALF-DIMErLIBRARY.

Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Umform Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdealers..

 
BY EDWARD 1.. “WHEELER.
Deadwood Dick Novels.

1 Deadwood Dink, tin- Prince 0| thn Road.
0 Deadwood Dick‘s. Deilnnee; or, Double rmuscrs.
28 Deadwood Diei.‘ in Disguise; or. liufiisi; sun
85 Deadwood Dick in "is Castle.
42 Deadwood Diek's Bonanza: m, 'l‘lm l’lmntnm Miner.
49 Deadwood Dick in Danger: or. Uummiill.
5? Deadwood Dick‘s Englen; or,'i'he l'ards oi Fluoli iisr.
Si?! “ongwoog :;:(‘::'0lll DeekAz or. t‘nlnudty .' ‘11:. the] lleroino
s en woo e ' :- .nut «t: or. COHlUYU‘ ‘hnr ie.
100 Deadwood Dick il Leadville. J
104 Deadwood Dlek's Denice; or, 'lhn l)uul)lu Crux! Sign.
109 Deadwood Diek as Detective.
129 Deadwood Dick‘s Double: M.The Gnrzun’s Gulch Ghost.
13: “outdle013! Bit-ifs lll‘u'rmgtliiaﬁue; unallinnde Bill.H
. ea woo e "s g ' r e; or, . Hurneni’cn l .
56 Deadwood Dick of Dead wood: or, Th.- l‘irkrd Party.
195 Deadwood Dick's Dream; or The Rivals oi thr ltmld.
Deadwood Dick’s “'ard: or. The Black Hum .lenhri.
205 Il’k-agwood llzi’elﬁls ili’oor‘rll inor, fuhunity June's Adventure.
0- “'00( (' ' I (“II ea o
221 Deadwood Dick’s Death-Plant.
832 Gold-Dust Dick. A Konmnre of Ruughs and Toughs,
 Beag‘nm:  “Hide Voni'll‘he Spirit of Swamp Lake.
eawoo e's eal rn.
809 Deadwood Dick’s Deal; or. Thu Gnhi Brick niOreeon.
Deadwood Dick’s Dozen: or, The Fekir oi Phantom Flute
247 Deadwood Dick's Dueuto: or, Days in the Di 'gingn.
862 llieangzg ill'llelﬁ,5e(r‘llt;-'Ilteed; or, in. Terrible ondotto.
ea w s n.
405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City.
4“) Deadwood Dick's Diamonds.
Deadwood Dick in New York: or, A “Cute Cm."
480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; ur,1‘hr Chained Hand.
 {:eadlwood‘  in; «Bibi; Crilnuou Crunmtntsigl.
cm wood 0 ‘. r.‘u, e nnce.
458 Deadwood Dick. .lr.’s Full llnnd.
459 Deadwood llivk, Jr.'s. Big Round-YD.
465 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Racket at Claim 10.
~ Beadlwoog  {ray Born“; tontli‘ozeman Bil
ea woo e' . r. s our e 4.1- vo.
23‘ Reagwoo:  in; in(Deadv\ood.
ea woo e' r. s ‘om net.
496 Deadwood Diek’. Jr‘.'s: lnhellhanee.
 goat‘iwoodd  iris,  lugs.
ea woo c' r. s e veranoe.
51:. Deadwood Dick: Jr.‘s: l’rotegee.
522 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’s. Three.
529 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'s. Danger Ducka.
584 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Death Hunt.
:23:  Biol? iii"  Elia-69; st Vidoq
0a .0 (' u I O
649 Deadwood Die ', Jr.’, on Ills )iettle.
223‘ ll““i.‘.'.°:a" ii?“ 3:" i" r‘i"i"““'
ear e , ., n as on.
ood Dick Jr. in Philadelphia.
2;:  was man: gr; k.” Chicago.
. ea w c ‘. r. oat.
584 Deal'wood Dick, Jr... in Denver.
690 Dead'wood Die , Jr.’s, Decree.
595 Deadwood Dirk Jr., in Beelzebub’n Basin.
600 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Coney island.
006 Deadwood Diek, Jr.'s, Leadville Lay.
 ll:r.-rs:vvoo«ll Rich, gr" :a gletr'oit. “
ea wood e. r., n or arm .
e24 Deadwood nick'. Jr., in Nevada.
689 Deadwood Diek, Jr., in No .‘ilan’s Land.
686 Deadwood Dick, Jr.. ‘Ai‘tﬁr éhle Queer.
r. n u a o.
r.”s, Chase Across the Continent
654 Deadwood Dlek, Jr.. Along the Smugglers.
660 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’I Insurance Case.
066 Deadwood Dick, Jr.. Back in the lines.
672 eadwood Dick, Jr., in Durangm or,“Gstherod In.”
Dick, int, Ili’ist':lv'ory; or, Found s Fortune.
c , r. . a: e.
690 Deadwood Dick Jr.’s. Dollars.
695 Deadwood Dick: Jr? at Danger Divide.
:32 l’f'i'”: an: r ~  p .
on “'01 <- r. a an - o .
1'10 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’ in San Francisco.
716 Deadwood Dick, Jr. s, Still Hunt.
1'22 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dominoes.
3:: tram: llizl' :r-z: the“. ..
ea woo r. on e e
3:? l'ieas‘i‘woo: lﬁiieii: girl’s, gang-newt.
Den woo e ' r. s, ou o .
752 [Deadwood Dick: Jpn, Deathhlow.
5i! Deadwood Dis-k, Jr.’o, Desperate Strait.
64 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Lone iland.
3:2 il":.‘"°°i no 3:4: 3:55:- .. .
ea woo c . ru- 0 .
Till? lleagwoog  it's. Dark Days.
“S lea woo :- '. . r. e e .
{'92 Deadwood Dis-k, Jr.,’s, Double Device.
79? Deadwood Diek, Jr’.s. Desperate Venture.
802 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Diamond Dlee.
80? Deadwood Diek, Jr.'s, Royal Plush.
2:: ll““‘.l"°::‘.l arr :r-r lli‘““i°“'
ea wo e ' r. a, va .
822 Deadwood uni... .,r.‘y., Boom.
£2“ Dead wood Dick, Jr.‘s. Scoop.
#84 Deadwood DleL, Jr.’s, l’roxv.
840 Deadwood lJit-k. Jr.'s, (‘lntelh
845 Deadwood Diek, Jr.’s. High Horse.
852 Deadwood Diek. Jr., at Devil’u Gulch.
BY “'31. G. l’ATTEN.
629 Vlolot Vane, the Velvet Sport: or. The Jubilee of Jeektown.
666 Erlet Vase}: Yi('10)l'y;)0r.;hi:l.lnlper City Clean 0.1;.
693 olet an a sy. tie ns ar e.
705 Violet Vane‘s Vow: or. T u Crnflv Detective’s Crsit.
724 Violet Vane‘s Vengeance; or, The Wipehut.
730 Violet Vane's Verdict: or, The Game at (‘ulﬁn City.
Til Violet Vane, the Veniriloquist i'idovq; or, S on, u, sporL
:53 :’!|0|]et, Q'nne’, tlaulvlnuquishedT:l orir’l'he II‘iii'ed. T2366.
6 ' 0 et ’anc :- ' s on; or, m iery an 0 ate.
 giv‘he Diagontd Sport £16", T116 Douhl- Face of Bed Rock.
a tam ys er ;ur. ve in us.
hill Da I) "are the .port from Denvor.
6“? 01d Bombshell, the Ranger Detective.
604 Iron Fern, the Msn oi Fire: or, Among the Vultures.
6l9 The Boy Tram Detective: 0P.The DnubioGripWituess
641 Dismal Dave’s Dandy l’ard: or,TheCiuetoCspt. Claw
 millil%llloy Frlanlk. thﬁ YounﬁlAmnteur Detective
I- II (9.“ t5 :0il.- 6711?, 18?.
714 Did Misery the Man from Miser-uri.
774 (‘lear-Grit Cal, the New-r SmuDie Detective.
7S9 Sam Sheridan, the Sevrvt Service Special.
“00 Cowboy Steve the Ranch Mascot.
820 Hobby Nat, the Tendrrfuov. Detective.
886 Sharper Stoke’s Double Deal.

BY COL. A. F. HOLT.

81'! Wideawake. the Train-boy Doteeilve.

811 Headlight Harry’s Flyer; or. Duke Derby.

67!! Headlight Barry’s Hazard. '
691 Headlight Harry‘s Haul; or, The Railroad Paul...
727 Headlight Harry’s Siren; or. Mad Msdzs.

759 Headlight Harry's Heritage.

794 Hendli ht Harry’s Hunt; or, The Csche of Gold.
899 Black uekskin; or, The Masked Men of Dseiil Canyon.
4‘” Kenneth, thr Knife-King: or, The Doomed Six.

465 Little Lightfoot. the Pilot of the Woods.

.28 The Dandy Sport; or. The King Pin Conspirstor.

“N
:n-

o
d

 
' .p.‘ .smn. ._...-4

 
-A,‘n.uA~.....aL- W» V.

W, Other Novels by E. L. “'heeler.

80 Rosebud Bob: nr. Nugget Ned, the Knight.
H4 Rosebud Bob on "and; or, lrl_\'i. ihv (iirl Miner.
SS Ron-bud Rob's lieapoeurum-e; or, i'hotngmhh Phi].
Rosebud Bob‘n Challenge; or, Ciuumnun ('lnp.
Denver Doll. the ilvtu iiw Queen; or, The Yankee'l Surround
Denver Doll‘s Victory; or. Skull nn-i ('rossboneb.
235 Denver Doll‘s Decoy ; or. Lillie iiili’n lion-n1...
296 Denver Doll's Drift; or. The Road Queen.
' ) reka Jim. iln- lloiii-Hsstherd-r; or, ’l'hr- Life Lottery.
37$ Yreka Jilll’a l’rlze: 0". Thn- Vi'oiven of “'nkr-Up.
’ Yreka Jim‘s Joker; or. The Rivuls of Red No".
1 rcka .Iim‘r. New {oh-r ur, liitycle lion.
894 Yreka Jim oi' Yuloa Dam.
209 Fritz. the iiuumi-iioy Detevtn'e: or. Dot lu-rllr Game.
2i“ Fritz to the Front: 0!, Thr Ventriioquint Hunt-or
241 Sierra Sum. tin Fromm FPYVel: or. A Sister's Devotion.
243* Sierra Sara’s Secret; or, The Bloody l‘oolprinta.
258 Sierra Sam's Part]; or. l'ne Angni or Big Vista.
258 Sierra Sam‘s Seven; or. The Sluluu Bride.
Kangaroo Kit; 0?. The Mysterious Miner.
‘89 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket; or. 1 hr. i‘mh- of Pinned-Out.
39 Dentin-Face. Delettiw; or, Life in New York. '
69 The Boy Detective; or, Gold Rifle, tin: Simrpnhootsr.
96 “'ateh-liye tlu- Detective: or, Arm. sud Angels.
11? Gilt-Edged lick, the S -<rt lletertivo
145 Captain Ferret. the New York Dutertivs.
New York Nell, the Buy-4hr! Detu‘tive.
226 The Aral) Detective: or, Snouzrr, the Boy Sharp.
291 T_urk, the Boy Ferret.
' keiley, lllekey A' (‘o.. the Drtw-tiws of Philadelphia.
843 Manhattan Mike, lilr Bowery Dru-Mire.
400 “'rinkles. the Night-Watch Detective.
416 High llnt Harry. the linen iinll Detective.
426 Sam Slabsiden. tin- lie 'gnblioy Detective.
434 Jim Beak and l’al. rivnte Detertlvol.
26 Cloven Ilooi‘, tile iiull'aio Demon; or, The Border Vultures.
82 Bob Woolf: or,Th.-. Girl i)l‘ﬂll‘slliii..
45 Did A\ alum-he: or, Wihi Eilllﬂ.‘ the Girl Brigand.
) Jim Bludsoe. Jr.. the Boy Phrnix.
61 liIu-khorn Bill; or. The Red Rifle Team.
92 (lanadn (‘het : or. ()hl Annronde iu Sitting Bull’s Csmp.
113 Jack Hoyle the Young Speculstnr.
125 Bonanza Bill. Miner: or Mmism Mystery, the Forget.
I33 Buns Bob the King of Buotb sells.
141 Solid Sam, the Bar Road-Agent: or, The Brnudsd Brows.
17? Nobb ' Nick of‘Nevada: or, The Sivrms Scsmps.
181 “'iiil ‘rssnk the Buvkaldn lirrn'u; or. lduiy Lily’s Love.
236 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tonﬁdo: or, Run dy Kate.
240 Cyclone Kit, the Young: (ilddintnr; or, The Lorin-d Valley.
273 Jumbo Joe, the Boy l’ntroi: or. The Rival Heirs.
299 A No. 1. the Dashing Toll-Taker.
806 ‘Liza Jane. the 'llrl Miner; or. the iron-Nerved Sport.
880 Little u! pk.§hot; or, The Dead Face of Dsggnnviilo.
858 First-C ass Fred, Ihe Gent irnm Gopher.
37“ Naboh Ned; or, The Srcret of Slab City.
862 Cool Kit, the King nf Kids; or, A Villein's Vengeance.
488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher; or, A Son's Vengeance.
£86 Sealokin Sam. the Sparkler; or The Tribunal of Ten.

BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS.

529 Tom-Cat and Paul; or. The Dead 3-: at Silver City.
622 Tom-Cat’s Triad; or. Thr Affair at Tombstone.

681 Tom Cat’s Terrible Task; or, The Cowboy Detective.
688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph or. Black Dan's Gust Combine.
546 Captain Caetuu, the haparrni ('rwk; or. Josh's Ten Strike
568 The Dandy of Dodge; or. Rnstlinz tor Millions.

576 The Silver Sport; or. Josh i’eppermiut’s Jubilee.

588 Salron Sol. thu- Mn With a Shadow

601 Ila p ' Hans, the Dutch Vidncq; or,HotTimesat Round-Up
611 Bil a Barnacle, the Detective Hercules.

646 Cowboy Hid, the Cattle-Range Detective.

657 Vi'arhl ng “'illiun, the Mountain Mountebsnk.

665 Jolly Jeremiah. the Plains Detective.

676 Si nal Sam the Lookout Scout.

689 B ly the ypsy Spy; or, Thehi sta oi’l'wo Lives.
699 Slmp e Sim, the Broncho Buster: or. or it Stokes.

712 The Mesmerist Sport; or, The Mysiiﬂod Detective.
738 Toltoc Tom, the Mad Prospector.

745 Kansas Jim. the Cross-Cut Detective.

76 armaduke, the Musmnzer Detective.

T78 The Rustler of Rolling Stone.

755 Lone "and Joe. the Committee 010M.

801 Kent Kirby, the High-Kink»? from Kilibuch.'

882 The Doctor Detective in Texas. i . \

BY BUFFALI) BILL (Hon. Was. F. Cody).

8 Kansas King; or, The Rod Ri ht Hand.
19 The Phantom S yr or,Tha llot of the Prairie.
55 Deadly-Eye. the linknown Scout; or. The Banded 31w
0S Border Robin Hood; or, The Prsiric Rover.
158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or, The Trepper’s Trust.

0‘
w

BY J. C. CDWDRICK.
Broadway Billy Novelo.

490 Broadway Billy. the Bootblsck Bravo.

514 Broadway Billy’s Boodle; or, Clearing sStrsage Csse.
586 Broadway Billy’s ‘DiiIikilty.”

657 Broadway Billy’s Death Racket.

579 Broadway {illy’s Surprise Party.

605 Broadway Billy; or, The Boy Detoctive'slilg home.
628 Broadway Billy’s Dead A0 : nr,1‘he League ofSeven.
669 Broadway Billy Abroad: or, The Bootblsck in Frisco.
6T5 Broadway Bllly‘s Best; or,Besting Ssn Frsncisco'sFinesi.
63‘? Broadway Billy in Clover.

696 Broadway Billy in Texas; or, The River Ruetien.
703 Broadway Billy’s Brand.

711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe; or, The Clever Desi.
720 Broadway Billy’s Full “and: or, The Gsmin Detective.
735 Broadway Billy’s Business.

TBS Broadway Billy's Curious Case.

Broadway Bllly'in Denver.

Broadway Billy’s Bargain; or, Thu Thm Detectives.
769 Broadway Billy, the. Relflever Detrruve.

775 Broadway Billy’s Shadow Chase.

783 Broadway Billy‘s Beagles; or. The Trin’s Quest.
T86 Broadway Billy‘s Team; or, Tllr Combine‘n Bin Poll-
790 Broadway Billy’s Brigade: or. Thu Deed Min-

796 Broadway Billy’s Queer Bequest.

—s

‘Q
3:3!
(0“

 
S00 {roadway Billy Bodied.

805 Broadway Billy’s Signal Scoop.

810 “ rvudwly Billy’s \V pe 0ut.

S15 roadway Billy’s Bank Racket.

821 roadway Billy’s luiY.

826 lroadway Billy Amour Jersey Thugs.
i183 lroadway Billy’s Rain .

889 3roadway Billy’s Big Boom.

860 Sliverohiask the Man 0! Mystery; or, The Golden Keys.
869 Shasta, the Cold King; or, For Seven Years Dead.
420 The De toetlve’s A prenticc; or, A Boy Without s Nome.
4.34 Cibntn John; or, «ti-H01. Times at Ante Bar.

489 Sandy Sam. the Street Scout.

46? Disco Dan. the Daily Dude.

506 Bodlight Ralph the Prince 0! the Road.

524 The Engineer Detective; or. Redlight Rslph’s Resol’v
548 Mart, the Night Express Detective.

571 Air-Line Lake the Young Engineer; or The Double Case
592 The Boy Pinkerton; or. Running the hummi- Out.

615 Fightinr Harry the Chief of Chained Cvclone.

640 Bareback Bet , the Centaur of the Circle.

647 'Ivoewriter Tilly, the Merchant’s Ward.

659 Moonlight Morgan, the “ Bis-asst " Men of Ante Bu.

wrhl——-_‘s_¢ u. . _. . ..,

 
- an... , “I. ....._. ...._ .

BY COLONEL PRENTIBS INGRAIAM.

2 Dick Doom’a Death-Grip; or, The Detective by Destiny.
7 Dick Doom's Destiny; or, The River Blacklee's Terror.

4 Dick Doom; or, 1 he Sharps and Shin—ks ui New York.

it Diek Doom in Boston: or, A Man oi Many Masks.

Ni Diek Doom in (‘hluagm

e )8 Dick Doom in he Wild West.

808 Dlek Duorn's (7 can Sweep; 0!, Five Linksh sClue
80S Diek Dooul’s Death Clue.

Hi Dick Doom'e Diamond Deal.

5119 Dick Doom’a (Airl Maoeot.

M39 Dick Doon’s Shadow Hunt.

1565 Dick Doom’s Big Haul.

74D Dashing Charlie; or The Kentucky-Tenderfootis First Trail.
756 Dashing (‘imrlie‘s Destiny; or, The W05 COP?»in
760 Dnnhing ( harlie‘s l'awnee Pard.

766 Dashing Charlie. the Runner.

49? Buck Taylor, King ot the Cowboys.
76? Buck Taylor, the t mnauche’s (‘n tive.
716 Buck Taylor’s Boyd; «(The Re Riders olthe Rio Grende,

560 Pawnee Bill. the Prairie Shsdower.

713 Pawnee Bill; or, Cari, the Mud Cowboy.

719 Pawnee Bill’s l’lcdge; or, The L‘owboy'sDeom.
725 Pawnee Bill: or,1)nringl)icx.

Bedi‘eru’s (‘urious Case; m, Th2 Riv-l Sharps.
liedi'ern at. Devil's Ranch; or, The Sharp from Texas
lledi‘ern’s High "and; or Blue Jacket.

70? Redfern‘s Last Trail; or. lThe Red Sombrero Rang-n.

663 Bed Rul’ll’n Rune; or, The Bucusuoor Mid-hi than.
674 Bed Ralph’s Bold Gone; or,The Wizard -ailt-r.
679 Red Ralph. the ﬁhadower, or, The Freebooter’s Loy-By.

64-1 Butterﬂy Billy’s Disguiae.

650 Butterﬂy Billy, the Pony l‘lxpreos Rider.
656 Butterﬂy Billy's Man lunt.

662 Butterﬂy Billy’s Bonanza.

565 Kent Kingdom or, The Owls oi the Overland.
5? Kent Kingdoll'l Shadower; or. the Card Queen.
575 Kent Bingdon’s Duel; or, 1 he Surgeon Scout.
5R6 Kent kingdou's Doomg‘nr. The Buckskin Avenger.
545 iatiliuc Run Down; or, he Bill‘meurl of Ban-Maril—
550 Lailtte'u Legacy; or. The Avenglne Son.
555 Lniitte‘s Confession; or, The Cruel: Corsair.
520 Bucknkin Bill, the Comanche Shadow.
525 The Buckskin Brothers in Texas.
560 The Buckskin Bowen; or. The Cowboy Plrstos.
585 The Buckskin Rovers: or, The Prairie Fugitive.
540 The Buckskin l’ards‘ nest; or,Captuin Ku—Klnx.
508 The Royal Middy; or. re Shark and um Sen ( .u
507 The Royal Hid-iy’s Luck; or,The Hunted Midshipmlﬂ.
511 The Royce liddy‘s Foe.
450 “'iznrd 'ill: or. The Boy Ferret 01 New York.
45-! Wizard “’ill's Street Beoato.
474 “'izard “'ill's Paul or. Flora, the Flower Girl.
4S3 “’izard “'lll‘s Last ‘ane: M.The Ferrets Aﬂuni.
429 Duncan-Dare. '4'” 3“)" Nut!“-
483 Duncan Dare’s Plot; or. A Cabin Boy’s Luck.
48? Dunean Dare’o Prize; or. The Sea Raider
44] Duncan Dora's Secret: or.The Oren-n ﬁrst“. ‘
402 louder. the Sons Conupirator: 0?. Th0 Fulﬁl Lune.
40? Iaodur’s ouble Chase; nr.Ths Bo ' insurgent.
412 lsodur‘s Var-Cloud Cruise; or, he Wild Ynchtamnn.
216 liinon Bill. the Prime oi the Reins.
222 Bison Bill's (line; or. Grit. the Irsvo Sport.
304 Dead Shot Daudy’s Dilemma.
808 Dead Shot Dandy’s Double; or, Kenn Kit.
314 Dead Shot andy’s Deﬁant-u or,Tho Bov Burl".
60? Dead Shot Dandy’s (Shin l; or, The River Dcirrllvo.
245 Merle Monte‘s heap for Life.
250 Merle Honte’s atinyt or. iimdt,the Buccaneer.
264 Merle lionte’s Treasure Islan .
269 Merle Monte the Condemned.
276 Merle Home's Cruise; or "The (-‘old Ship " Chm.
2S0 Merle Dante’s Fate; or. he Pirate's Pride.
284 Merle Monto's Pledgol or. The Sea Mnnudsr.
19? The Kid Glove Sport; or. Little Grit, the Wild Rider.
204 The Kid Glove Sport’s Doom; or, Bulslo Bill,
Pony Express Rider.
H25 Marl the Cowboy Coaster,
781 Bath {edmoud, the Girl Mower.
6R6 lirlando, the Ocean Free Flag.
61? Ralph, the Dead-Shot Seont.
602 The V agabond ofthe lines.
59? The Texan Detective; or, The Bleak Bravos.
591 Delmoute. the Young Semitover; or Too Averaging Seller.
52m The (buts-ant Cadeté or The False omen...
495 Arizona Joe; er, The oy Tar-d of'rsxes Jack.
48? Nevada Ned, the Revelvur Kong"
468 Neptune Ned, the [my Coaster: or. Pirate in Spits.
462 The Sailor Boy Wanderer; or. The Born Guide.
446 Ilaphazard “any: or, The Sea Gumtree;
898 The Bed Claspe Hands; «.The yLieotoas-t.
8S7 “'ar at.)- “'ill. the Traitor hide.
838 The Iindinu l’ilot; or, The Search for Pirate island.
87? Bonodel, the Boy Rover er.’l'he Fission Schooner.
2H7 Billy Blue-Eyes, of the to Grando.
237 Lone Star the Cowbov Cs tall.
229 Crimoon Bate, the Girl rnilor; or.Tho Cowboy’s Triumph.
116 The llussar Captain 3 or, The Hermit of Hell Gun.
11 The Sen-Devil ; or, The Midshipman Legacy.
102 Diek Dead-Eye, the Smuggler; or. The Cruise oi’ the Vixen.
T5 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sen-“'oli.
62 The Shadow Ship; or,'l'he Rival Lientensnu.
24 Dinrnond Dirk; Or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone.
17 Ralph Boy, the Boy Buccsnrer; or. The Fugitive Yscht.
7 The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast.

LATEST AND NEW ISSUES.

841 Prince Charlie, the Cat’s-Paw Sport. By Marma-
duke Day.

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H

3 )‘lﬂ’i'i

“- u.

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tho

842 The Aetor Detective in Chicago; er, Disk Doom’o
Flush Hand. By Col. Prentiss lngrnhsm.

848 Dan. the River Sport; or. Felling the Frisco Sharp. By
Harold nyne.

844 Broadway Billy’s Big Bulge. By J. C. Cowdrlck.

845 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, High Horse. By Edward L.
.0 91'.
S46 Back, the New York Sharper. By .10 Pierce.

9347 Dick Doom’s Ten Strike. By Col. Prentiss lumhnm.

S48 Clip, the Battery Ferret; or. Jack Jell'ers’ Foul Plsy.
By . C. Harlmugh.

849 Broadway Billy’s $100,000 Snap. By Cowdriex.
850 The Grand Street Arab. By Jo Pierce.

85] The Tie-To Sport; or, High Bustling at Sinnen' Plat.
By “'m. R. Eyster.

852 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Devil’s Gulch. By Edward
L. Wheeler.

858 Diek Doom’s Trump Cards. By Col. 1’. lngrabaln.
A New Issue Every Tuesday.
'Tho Half—Dino Library is for sale by all nowsdesiasﬁivo
euth”, or sent by mall on receipt or six coats each.
BEADLE All ADAII. Pabliohoro.
98 William Itroot, low Yorh

“.44.; -43..--“ .

' ,
.1.“-

. . ,V ,
, ﬁ¥h- [,3ng .7. 7 JW‘ ‘ --