mm.-. ‘,.

m— m, w...” y‘-

nu: AND ADAMS. August 24.18

Five ()c—enls a Copy. H BEAD—LE  AbA—TMS’ Publishe s, A Published Every

$2-50 8 Yeah 92 WILLIAM STREET NEW Yonx. THCSGSY-

 

; nip :90me on om

.’,*‘

 

 

 

<—.’

  
 

2 The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

 

 

The Street Speiters’ Weird Hunt;

THE ANGEL OF THE DOOKS.

A Mystery of the Dead and Living Biddle.

BY MARCUS H. WARING,
(“ SERGEANT mung")
AUTHOR or “ THE THREE srorrnas,” ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
THE TRAGEDY ON THE WATER.

ALARM often folloWs a feeling of careless ease,
and it was to be so with the occupants of the
little harbor sailboat that was crossing New
York Bay. Their minds were on common-place
matters, but in their track, buoyed up and
drifted about by the waters, there was a niys—
tery and the trail of a tragedy.

One of the two gave a sudden start and looked
off over the water in an excited way.

" What n0w, James, asked his companion of
at the tiller.

“ Look yonder, Stumps l”

“ I see nothiii’. W’ot is it!”

“ Look again!"

Stumps obeyed, rising from his seat, and this
time, not in vain. The barely distinguishable
burden borne by the water had turned under its
touch. and the white face of a young woman
seemed to return their startled gaze. One mo-
ment it was visible; then it disappeared.

“ Urownded i” murmured Stumps, in a sympa-
thetic voice. '

“ Or can she be alive? Look!”

A hand was raised from the water, and it
seemed for a moment that the unfortunate was
beckoning to them, but that thought soon van-
ished. The tide was running rapidly out, and
its precious burden could not float placidly, but
it was clear that the unknown was done with
this life.

“ Here’s a tragedy or a mystery, Jim Royal,”
tbestartled Stumps added. “ It’s our duty to
pick up that remnant o’ humanity.” '

“Right, and we are going to do it.
let’s get the boat about before we lose Sight of
her.”

There was no danger of the water-waif being
lost. It kept on the surface, and when the bout
had been brought up beside it, there was nothing
to do but lift the body into the craft. Then they
sat, staring in silence at the dead.

The drowned woman was oung; evidently
not more than twenty; and im felt sure she
had been very pretty before the water had
claimed its burden.

“ No common" person,” Stumps declared
mournfully. “ Her clothes are fine and costly,
an’ I reckon they are right in the pink 0’ style,
though I ain‘t posted on that line.”

“She never has done hard work. Her hands
are soft, well shaped and well cared for.”

“A right charmin’ young female, once, an’
mighty unfortunate. ow d’ye s’pose she come
ter this end!” '

“ Who knowri” '

“There’s a city up there,” observed Stumps,
pointing to New York, “ that is the grandest in
the New World; yet, James, there is things done
there that makes the blood chill wheii we think
of it. It‘s many along mile from the Battery
ter High Bridge, an’ crime ass on there silently
but surely like the waters 0 North River. Some
on the evil done never is found out; some comes
tar” light when a poor soul is found drownded,
30

Stumps was not usually sentimental, but sight
of the fair youngI woman hadpmved him to a
marked degree. e was interrupted by an ex-
clamation from Jim.

“ Look, Stumps! See the marks on her neck!
Fin ers have been there—fingers contracted
untfi the nails have left their cruel, tell-tale
scar. This was no suicide, no accidental death
by drowning. Stumps, it was murder! cool, de-
liberate, devilish murder!” _

The speaker had grown excited and he
pointed to the evidence mentioned, while dismay
and indignation were depicted in his strong
young face.

There was silence for several moments, but
the mind of each was bus . Both read a good
deal in the visible sign 0 violence offered, and
imagined how the unfortunate had been thrown
into the East River from a pier or a vessel.

Thesetwe were old a uaintances with the
street. and waters of New ork. One had been
born h be city, and always had lived there.

Quick ! .i

 

The other was not in the habit of telling his
history, but he lived in New York and knew the
great city thoroughly.

Jim Royal was twenty years old ~a stout,
manly youth, whose plain, resolute face was in-
dicative of honor, alertness and good humor.

Stumps haul left the best half of his life be-
hind him, and gray hairs were beginning to ap-
pear in his shaggy locks. He was dreSSed even
more plainly and coarsely than his companion.
The most noticeable thing about him was a
wooden leg. A part of the member provided
by Nature had been lost in some accident, and
the substitute was one which suggested a lack
of cash, it being of the most humble pattern.

“ Have you noticed in the papers an' account
of any missing woman?" Jim asked, breaking
the silence.

“ Don‘t reck’lect ez I have.”

“ This girl most have lost herlife several days
a o.

“ Yes, that is evident.”

“ Here is a ring on her finger which may lead
to her identification. It is a peculiar one. It
represents two crossed arr0ws, with a diamond
at 'each corner and one where they Cl‘Oss. A
very delicate and ingenious piece of work.”

“ Two crossad arrows?” Stumps cried, as if in
astonishment.

i t Yes.”

“ Lt t me see.”

He knelt down and looked at the ring, and
then a singular expression appeared on his rough

ace.

“ Great heavens!” he exclaimed, excitedly.

“ What now?”

“ I ’ve seen that ring afore!”

“ You have? Where? When i”

Stumps was'regarding the ring intently and
did not heed the question. He was startled and
deeply troubled, as his manner indicated. Fi-
nall y be turned his gaze upon the still face of the
wearer of the ring.

“ Can it be?” he murmured.

Jim Royal was eager to know the facts of the
new discovery, but he remained silent until,
finally, his companion turned his gaze from the
dead to the living.

“ J ames,” he remarked, seriously, “ I seen that
ring a good twenty year ago. I was younger
then than I be now, an’ I had two good legs.
I was a sailor on a West Injv vessel, under old
Cap’n Block. He had a daughter. the cap’n did,
who always sailed with him. Her name was
Elnora. Many’s the time I’ve seen that ring on
her hand, an’ as we all loved her, an’ she wa’u’t
noways proud, she was a great favorite. Once.
she took the ring off an’ showed it ter me, an’
she said it was her dead mother’s gi ft to her,_an’
how she never would part from it. ’

“ Where is she now ’l”

“That’s w’ot I don’t know. I left my ship tor
go as mate on another, an’ never seen her or
Cap’n Block ag’in. I heerd, soon after, that he
died, but w’ot become 0’ her I don’t know.”

“ Where did theyi livei”

“ On the vessel. I hev a vague idea that the
old cnp’n owned a house som’ers over by the
Sound, but where, I don’t know. The ship was
their home. What’s worse, I don’t know of a
relative they bad.”

“But the Owners of the vessel: can’t they be
found? Perhaps they would know about Elnora
Block.”

“ Mebbe. I don’t know ef they’re still in busi-
ness, but we kin see.”

“ But this cannot be Elnora.”

“No; oh! no; she would be forty years old
now. It ain’t that, but, how came this poor
gel by the ring? El ra said she never would

art with it, an’ s e would keep her word.

’ot I’m afeerd of is—”

“ What?”

“ That this is her daughter 1”

“ W‘hom did she marry?”

“ That’s w’ot I don’t know. She wa’n’t mar-
ried w’en I seen her last, an’ I’ve never heard
from her ssnce. But, J some; she wouldn’t let
that ring go inter nobody else 5 hands but one o’
the family, an’ I’m afeerd this is her child. The
hair an’ eyes are a good bit like Miss Elnora’s
an’ you see she could hev a daughter 0’ this 6 ”

“ It would be strange if that was the fact.

“ ’Twould be awful! Think 0’ this poor thing
meetin’ with voylenCe from some enemy in the
city, an’ then bein’ rhrowed inter the river like
a dead eat! It was an awful thing ter do. An’
mebbe Elnora’s blood run in this girl’s veins.
Think of it!”

“ Stumps, we must learn who this girl was.”

“ Yes, yes; we’ll put the perleece right on the
track.”

“ Why not take the trail ourselves? You and
1, and Bobby Blossom, have done detective work

 

 

before as the Spotter Trio. Now, if you think
this was Elnora Block’s daughter—~”

“ I see! Yes, I‘d be willin’ ter do my best——
ter work fer years, of I could ,help one 0’ her
kin. We’ll do it, Jeems; we’ll do it! Of course
the niyst’ry may be settled up, fiist off, butI
can’t get red o’ the feelin’ that a good deal lays
hack 0’ this. An’ ef it was Mr child—what
then?”

“Then, for the mother’s sake,.Vou want to
down the guilty and bring them to punish-
iiient.”

“ I do, I do!” Stumps declared, vehemently.

“ I’m with you; We’ll go into the work with a
will. Now, let us get under way again, and re—
turn to New York.”

The position of the boat at that moment was
below Governor’s Island, and nearer to Br0oklyn
than New York, but they did not think of tak-
ing the water—waif anywhere except to the latter
city. They had been on their way to visit a
friend on the Long isle-nil shore when the dis-
covery was made, and it was not a. sacrifice of
an moment to change their plans.

hey were soon on their way to the metropolis,
but it occurred to Jim Royal that they ought to
have all possible evidence before letting the
waif go out of their hands. They searched her
pockets, but failed to find a scrap of paper, or
an thing else, therein.

he ring was the one means of identification
further than the body and clothing.

“ I‘m afraid it won’t be no easy job ter get at
the mystery. of some friend don’t show up, first
off,” remarked Stumps. “ From w’ot I know 0'
the natural course of events I kinder believe the
body come down the East River. Now, nobody
lives nigh it who would be likely ter dress like
this, an wear diamonds, an’ there may hev been
a long journey afore the murderers got to the
river. Looks dubious, but I’m goin’ ter know
whether this was Elnora Block’s 'child.”

“ Good! I’m With you, and so will Bobby
Blossom be.”

“That ain’t no mean crowd in a fight, we
ain’t. Yes; we’ll hunt the evil—doors down.
There’s too much of it in New York, an’ ev’ry
honist person ought ter be ready ter do his share
ter block them.” «

“ And we agree to follow this case to the
end?”

It Yes.”

“Our pledge is given; our word shall 'be
kept.” s __ _
CHAPTER II. ,,

THE STRANGE VISITOR TO THE PIER.

'IT was four hours later. Darkness had fallen,
and the rush of business hours had ceased. A
boy of about fifteen years of age approached a
house which stood near the East Rivar, but, find-
ing no one visible, strolled down on one of the
piers. The scene was one always of interest,
and though He had been there many times be-
fore, he felt that the maritime picture vouch-
safed him was worth surveying again. ,

He wentto the extreme end of the 1pier. The
river flowing calmly past, the many ghts glit-
tered, and he nodded his satisfaction.

“ New York is good enough fer me! This one,
an’ that one, has ter run of! ter Europe, an‘ Cali-
forn , an’ Boston, an’ other foreign places, but
old 'otham jest erbout fills the apple 0’ Bobby
Blossom’s eye.”

Thus he s ke aloud. If anybody had asked
who Bobby lossom was he would have answer-
ed that it was himself, but no one spoke. To all
appearance he was alone.

Several minutes fined, and then he heard a
sound behind him. 6 turned quickly, but care-
lessly, thinking a friend had put in an appear-
ance, and then stood mute with surprise.

He was no longer sole occupant of the ier,
but the latest comer was not the man he be ex-

ited. It was no man; it was a woman. In
the dim light he could see but little more, but
he believed she was young. .Certainly, she ha
a slender, trim-looking figure.

“ Say, w’ot in time is she doin’f” Bo‘bby mute
tered.

Sure enough, her movements here unusual
and eccentric. She stood close to the southern
side of the pier, bending ovor and gazing into
the ’black expanse where the river rolled its
waters along the water-front. _

“Bet yer a dollar she’s gom’ tor commit
suicide!” added Bobby, as though challenging
contradiction; and he was about to start for-
ward and prevent an act so rash, when she.
straightened u .

She changed, her position by a few feet, and
then repeated her act of bending over the water.

A queer sensation came over the watcher.
She moved with the lightness of a featherisb

 

 
   

i
i
t
i

.---P 3....

 

. :3

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

8

 

 

seemed to fl0at, rather than walk; and her attire
waved and fluttered in the breeze like cobwebs
blown about.

Dark was her costume, yet a superstitious fear
came over Bobby Blossom.

“ Great ’skeetersl w’ot ef it’s a ghost?” he
thought.

Many and strange stories had he heard of dis-
embodied spirits. and though he never had seen
one himself, he began to think such things might
be. Why should any live woman be on the pier
at that hour, staring at the black waters? And
how could any woman in the flesh move so
.airily?

It was something of a shock to believe he was
in such company, but he was of an investigating
bent of mind, and a new idea came to him.

“B’mightyl I’ll interview the Spook, an’ of I
git any interestin’ p’int on Ghostland, I’ll write
it up t'er one o’ the newspapers. It’d be an aw-
ful ‘ beat’ on the other fellers, an’ it’d make
my repertation. Here goes fer Miss G.o-a-s-t,
Ghost!”

He advanced with all the confidence he could
summon, and broke the silence with the oil“
hand remark:

“ Fine evenin’, mum l”

The supposed ghost turned slowly, showing no
surprise, but said‘ nothing.

“ Out for a promenade?” Bobby added,
 ,

Still she was silent, but, undiscouraged, he
went on:

“ How’s Mr. Ghost, an’ Mrs. Ghost, an’ the
little Ghostesesl”

Then the unknown broke the silence, and ex-
plained in a low and plaintive voice:

“ I was looking to see where I was drowned l”

“Eh!” cried Bobby, startled.

“ I was drowned somewhere near here!”

“ Great ’skeeters! you don’t say so, muml”

“ Have you seen my body?”

“ Me! No. I ain t; an’ I don’t want ter.
Drownded folks are awful uncomfor’hle things
ter hev ’round. But,” young Mr. Blossom
added, in an awe-struck voice, ‘ do you really
mean ter say you are dead i”

“ I must be, for I looked down and saw my
face floating in the water. I was frightened,
and I fainted; and when I came to, I had drifted
away.’ I have hunted since, but I can’t find my
bod .'

“)lltiad as an insane asylum!” thought the boy.

“ I wish you’d look in the water and seeif you
can see anything. Your eyes may be better than
mine.” ,

“ I’ll do it.” t

Bobby’s faint. attack of belief in ghosts had
vanished, but, nevertheless, the laintive man-
ner of this wanderer of the nig t gave him an
uncomfortable, “ creepy” feeling. He wished
to humor her, and he imitated her example and
looked long and earnestly into the water. He
saw nothing unusual, and finally told her so.

“ It is strange,” she murmured.

“How did it all happen, mum?”

“ I don’t know. There has been trouble, and
things are dreadfully mixed up. I can’t ex-
plain what I don’t know, but I hope to know all
songs time, and I am going to watch here until I
do.

“ So you’ve come before?” -

“ Every nightl”

“ A~lookin’ fer a body?”

“ Yes. I would not care so much about it,
but I had on a ring, at the time, which is valua-
ble. It had five diamonds, but I don’t care so
much for that; it is because the ring was my
mother’s. It was made in imitation of two
crossed arrows, with the diamonds set in.”

The directness of this explanation puzzled
Bobby more than ever. If this person was de-
ranged, she was not like any other person of the
kind he ever had seen. Her manner was very
gentle and touching, and, having gained partial
view of her face, he saw that it was very refined
and intelligent. She did not seem to bemore
than a. girl in years. He doubted if she was
twenty-one.

“ Perhaps a parleeceman could help yo,” be

fitted.
‘ o, no, I don’t want to see one."
“ Why not!”
“ I’m afraid of them,” she replied, shivering.
“ W’ot hev ye done out o’ the way?"
“ Nothin . Do you think I have?”
“ Ter tel the truth, I don’t. I ain't known
on lon% but you don’t strike me as one 0’ that
Kind. her’bouts do you live?”
“ Over there, somewhere,” and she made a
tuna which took in one-third of the city.
“ What street!”
“ I don’t remember.”
“a w and added:

 

 

“I forget things that I used to remember.
There is some trouble, and I can’t tell what it
is. I know I ought to find that ring, though,
and must keep on searching until I do. It is
weary work, and sometimes my courage fails. I
havo come here so often! But, there is no use of
looking to-night, and. I will go home. 1 am
very much obliged to you for looking, and help-
ing me, and I hope I can pay you for it some
time. But, now, I’ll go home."

“ You jest wait a. fraction, mum. I know a
man that is as wise as sixteen like me, an’ ef
anybody kin give you a straight tip, he can.
He’s honist, too, an’ never throwed anybody
down. You come this way, an’ I’ll see him.”

Bobby spoke cosxingly, but he had an object
in view. Feeling that some one ought to care
for a young woman so helpless, he intended to
summon his friend, Pete Tiernan, a ’longshore-
man who lived in the house he had looked at when
he came down to the pier, and have that person
take charge of affairs.

She did not object, and they went toward the
house, but just before they reached it Tiernan,
hiinslf, came out and moved t0ward them.

“ That’s him,” Bobby explained.

“ Oh! I know that gentleman.”

“ Sure?” the ’longshoreman readily agreed.
“ So it’s yersilf is out the noight, leddy?”

His manner was kind and consoling, but Bob
by Blossom did not fail tosee there was some.
thin more; something almost like reverence.

“ have been as unfortunate as ever.”

“ I’m right sorry for yez, ledd y.”

She looked away at vacancy, and Bobby
sidled up to the longshoreman.

“ Say, she ain’t fit ter care for herself. \Vhat
be we goin’ ter do?”
“ Hush l” returned Tiernan, quickly. “ Don’t

be after sayin’ a worrud; let her have her own

way.”
The boy yielded. If Tiernan knew her, it was
quite another matter.

The ’longshoreman waited with a subdued air,
but the young woman suddenly aroused.

“ I will go new,”‘she observed, “ but I shall
come again. I hope you will keep watch, and
help me if you can.”

“ Sure, an’ I will, leddy."

She said good-night in her peculiarly gentle
and attractive veice, and then turned and walk-
ed quickly away. Again her lightness of foot
was noticeable; she seemed to float, rather than
walk. When she had disappeared in a cross-
street Bobby impulsively broke the silence!

“ Say, Peter, who is she?” '

“ The Angel of the Docks!”

H  3”

“ We call her the Angel of the Docks, an’ that’s
the only name we know fer her. Who she is,
an’ where she lives, we niver knew. I m’ane,
me an’ the wife, an’ Tim Brogan.”

“ How long hev you known her?”

“ Less than a w’ake.”

“ Great ’skeeters! I s’ sed she was an old
’quaintance, or I wouldn t ’a’ been so ready ter
vote she should go ofl. Peter, it ain’t safe;
she’ll come ter harm. Le’s chase her an’—”

“ No; I think she’s safe. Annyhow, not a
finger would I be after layin’ on her, ter upset
her plans. It ain’t all a figger ave speech whin
we call her the Angel of the Docks. We do be
thinkin’ she’s not loike other folks!”

Bobby’s curiosity was thoroughly arOUSed.

“ How’d e make her ’quaintance?”

“ Well, obby, it was loike this: Friday
noight ave last week, at about half-past ten ave
the clock, me wife an’ I was a—settin’ in the
house whin we heard a woman scream out on
the pier, an’ a. terrible creepy scream it was.
Now, the mic is always under the imprission
that there are detnons, au’ banshees, an’ war-
locks, an’ ghosts, an’ Providence only knows
what, waitin’ ter gobble up woman-koind, so she
hustled me out ave the house lively, tor save the
woman that screamed. ‘

“ I towld her since that she gave no thought
ter the fact that the demons an’ banshees moight
gobble me, but she said I was that- homely that

’d scare all _the banshees and evil spirits till
they’d run loxke ter break their necks, rather
than face me.

“Well, out on the pier, close to the edge, I

.found a girl in a dead faint, an’ I called the

wife, an’ we ive her whisky within, an’ water
without, till 8 0 came around.

“The poor cr’ature was that scared that she
didn’t sense things at first, an’ she kept a-mut-
terin :
waterl’ But, when we would have carried her
in??? the house she started up, an’ she said

0

“That’s the way we met her,-an’ though she
was so frightened at first, she straightway be,

‘ The face in the water—the face in the l

 

 

gan to talk in the same quiet, gentle way you
hev heard her. But niver a word would she ex-
plain, an’ she soon hurried away.

“ Begorra, I didn’t know what ter make ave
her, an’ I said so, but the wife spoke out an’
says:

“ ‘ Sure, it was an angel!’

“ Now, I didn’t take ter this idea, at first, for
I thought an angel would not swoon’d an’ take
on as she did at first, but whin I towld Tim
Brogan about it, he said such things had been
seen before, an’ mebbe she would be after comiu‘

again.

“ So that next noight we all watched, an’ the
young woman came. This toime she talked
about fallin’ inter the water, an’ said she was
drownded an’ floatin’ there still, an’ the wife an’
Tim just shook until their knees rattled togither
leike bones in a minstrel show.

“ To make a long story short she comes ivery
noight, an’ talks about the face in the water,
an’ the loike ave that—mebbe you heard her——
an’ we call her the Angel of the Docks.

“ I’m not that wise to tell yiz just what she
is. The wife an’ Tim stick ter the old oidea,
but I fancy she’s a poor cr’ature who has met
with sore trouble an’ isn’t just roight up aloft.

“ But she deserves to be called an angel, fer a
woman more gentle, an’ kind, an’ gracious, an’
sweet, I niver saw 1” ‘

Mr. Tiernan spoke with . considerable enthu-
siasm, but it was tempered with the old trace of
reverence.

“ Wal, what d’ye make 0’ her, anyhow?”
Bobby asked.

“Sure, the wife an’ Tim may be right.”

“ But s irits—angels—don’t faint.”

“ I tow d the wife that, an’ she asked me how
I knew. ‘ Sure,’ says she, ‘you niver saw an
angel before an’ I do be thinkin’ you’ll never go
where you’ll see wan ag’inl’ ”

And the ’longshoreman shook his head soberly'
at the recollection.

CHAPTER III.

A GRAPPLE FOR LIFE.

BOBBY aw that, in spite of the dictates of his
own reason, Tiernan was not far from agreeing
with his wife and Tim Brogan on the point that
the Angel of the Docks was of more than natural
being. Unkn0wn to Bobby. however, there was
a great struggle in Peter’s mind; he constantly
was dwelling upon the conundrum: Was a real
angel subject to fainting-spells, and was it sub—
stantial enough to be like human beings to the
touch of a human being’s hand?

This was contrary to Peter’s understanding of
angels, but Mrs. Tiernan’s positive statement on
that point staggered him. All things were pos-
sible with ange 5, she said.

Bobby Blossom asked more questions, but,
seeing he was not likel to get anything of im~
portance, he left the pier and hastened away.

Regarding his late experience as remarkable,
he was eager to communicate it to certain inti-
mate friends of his—friends who had been his
associates in solving mysteries before, and who.
he thought possible, might ‘be willing to grapple
with this new complication. ,

These: friends he found in a house on West
Twelfth street, where one of them had a room.
He used due diligence in etting there, and final-
ly burst in upon them. hey were no strangers
in this reve ation, being, in brief, Jim Royal,
and one-legged Stumps.

Bobby dashed his cap down on the floor.

“ Hi! tellers, w’ot d’ye guess I’ve run enter!"
hege- ,, J

amp-post. im gravely suggested.

“ Come off! I’ve got on track of a full-blown
mystery, an’ I hev a sneakin’ idee we kin do
some detective work on it. I ain't sure it would
pan out over ninety cents ter the dollar, but we
want ter kee our hands in, in the detective line, .
and let New ork see that Jim Royal & Co. are
still in harness as the Spotter Trio l”

“ Take breath, Bobby, and then state what
has happened,” Jim advised. -

The y obeyed, and gave the history of the
Angel of the Docks, as far as he knew it. In his
haste be omitted some particulars, and, though
he spoke of the ring referred to by the Angel, he
did not describe it.

When he made it evident, if the strange irl’s
word was .believed, that some one had I
drowned by the pier, Jim and Stumps exchanged
glances and manifested an interest very pleasant
to the narrator.

“ New, then, w’ot d’ye think 0’ thatr’he asked
in conclusion.

“ We could tell better if wallow We MI
name.”

“ That’s w’ot we must find ‘9'

is

 

    

4

 

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

 

 

“ I wish,” observed Stumps, “ that you had
thought ter ask her fer a description 0’ that ring
she spoke of.”

“ I didn’t need ter. She told me all about it.
She said it was made in imitation 0’ two crossed
arrows, with five diamonds set in.”

it Oh i”

Stumps uttered the exclamation in a deep ke ,
while again Jim regarded him in wonder. Bo -
by had accurately .‘escribed the ring found on
the drowned girl’s finger.

“ This is strange!” Jim commented.

“ That’s w’ot I thought,” Bobby returned.

“ But you don’t know all.”

“ I don’t? Do you? Ef you do, letafeller in.”

Jim told how he and Stumps had found the
body of the girl in the bay, brought it to New
York and turned it over to the police. It was
in the custody of the latter when the finders
left, and the score of persons who had been

. toslee it, had failed to recognize the drowned

r O
‘i'l‘he notion of the Angel of the Docks that
some one had been drowned might have been

over as a delusion, or, if a fact, as in no
way relating to the tragedy of the bay, had it
not been for her description of the ring.

That was not to be overlooked, and it at once
established the fact that she had knmvledge of
the ornament found on the dead girl’s finger.

The rings were one and the same, but what
was the history of that ring?

The Angel of the Docks might not be just
right, mentally, but she was not talking all at
random.

“ but I don’t b’lieve it’s her who is drownded,
ef she does say so,” persisted Bobby.

“ You can maintain that position safely, my
friend. When a person is dead she goes abroad
on the earth no more. If she is worried about
her body she don’t let human beings know it.
There are two girls in this myster , and we
haven’t the key to the riddle yet. 9 will try
to get it, though.”

“ An’ we’ll succeed,” Bobby affirmed. “ They
call you ‘ Lucky’ Jim Royal, an’ ou’ro sure
tar ‘get there, every time. We’ 1 see the
Angel, ef we hev ter hunt a month, an’ then
we’ll grapple with the case, git the facts win
glory an’ wade fetlock deep in fame. Whoop
er up, Hannah Maria!”

Robert Blossom was of a nature somewhat
frivolous, and his thoughts at this sta e of at-
fairs were not outside his usual ent usiastic
Vein, but it was different With Jim and Stumps.

They had been deeply affected by the discov-
ery in the bayz and the possibihty that the
drowned girl might be the daughter of Elnora
Block troubled and saddened Stumps.

The matter was discussed in all its bearings,
and the three friends agreed to do all they could
to solve the mystery, unless this was at once
done by the police. Probabl the daily papers
would have the story of the riding of the body,
and some friend might come forward and iden-
tify her at onCe.

“ An’ then. ag’in, they may not,” added
Stumps. “ We read almost ev’ry Week of some
poor nnfortinit, dead by violence, accident or
suiside, who is buried without bein’ identified,
an' who shall say how many are kept in the
grasp of the two great rivers that wash the

rent of our cit , an’ carried out ter sea!

The world never nows one«half o’ the secrets,
the sufferin’s lan’ the tragedies o’ Gotham, l’m
thinkin’.”

The hour was growing late, and Mr. Stumps
soon left his frien s and started homeward. He
lived on a humble street down below Jefferson
Market, and in that direction he went, his wood-
en leg thumping on the sidewalk in regular beatS.

When he came out of Jim’s house he noticed a
man standing on the opposite side of the street.
The manner of this person was careless and un-
concerned, and Stumps had no reason to suppose
he need be interested. But he had gone only a
couple of blocks when he noticed that some one
was following behind him.

Even at a late hour such a thing was not un-
common in New York, for when two persons
travel the same course one must be in advance
and the other in the rear, and he of the wooden
.leg would have given the fact only passing notice
had he not discovered that the rear guard was
the same man who had been standing still a
little before.

“Ef he’s a highwayman,” thought Stumps
' i with a grim smile, “ he won’t git enough out 0’

me ter pay fer usin’ slung-shot or sand-bag.

Guess he will see that, an’ let the old wooden-
, legged tramper alone.”

1 The pursuer if such he was, did not try to
close n , and Stumps reached his boarding-house
and en without adventure.

 

He was soon in his room, and, unstrapping his
false leg, he went to bed.

Sleep came as a guest shortly after.

The little clock on the mantel ticked on for an
hour, but Stumps heard it not. Its voice was
low and modest, too, and it was not that which
finally aroused him.

Something else did. .

He awoke with that vague feeling, by no
means uncommon to sleepers, that something was
wrong. He lay without stirring, and without
real alarm, but wondered absently what made
the feeling. Was it a dream, now forgotten?

Hark!

What was that soundl

The movement of something, surely, and,
moreover something that seemed to be in the
room. Was it a cat? He did not understand
how any feline could have entered. Again the
sound! Some living thing was moving about,
and, manifestly, it was heavier than any cat.

“ Who’s there?" Stumps called.

There was a quick spring, and a man stood by
the bed. A strong hand grasped the questioner s
throat.

“ Be still, or you die!” hissed a voice.

Stumps’s courage did not desert him.

“ Mister, you’ve got the advantage 0’ me,” he
remarked, with surprising coolness.

“ I mean ter keep it.”

“ Who be you!”

“ None 0’ yer business!”

“ What d’ye want!”

“ I want you I”

“ You seem ter hev at me.”

“ Mark what I say: f you utter aloud word,
I’ll drive this knife inter ye!”

“ I hear ye. But, say, of you’re a robber,
you’ll not git any great haul here. I ain’t got
ten dollars ter my name.”

“ Ter blazes with yer money! That ain’t w’ot
I’m after. It’s ou! ’

“ Oh! is it? ’ot d’ye want 0’ me?”

“You thought you did a smart thing when
you fished a certain rty out o’ the waters 0’
the bay, didn’t you? a1, it’s goin’ter cost you
dear l”

“ Why 1” Stumps asked, quickly.

“ Because you was too fresh. You thought
you did a big act when you croaked about that
ring, an’ give the theory that the dead girl was
Elnora Block’s daughter, didn’t you?”

“ What of it?”

“ What business had you ter meddle, you
stump-legged old idiot?”

“ Ah! so I hit near the truth, did I?”

“ Your hit will cost you dear. You interfered
with men who won’t stand no nonsense; you
poked our nose into a dangerous secret.”

“ W y does it concern you ?”

“ Never mind! I’m talkin’ about you! I tell

on that you made the biggest hull of yer life.

0 yer know what yer meddlin’ will cost you?”

“ What?”

“ Yer life!”

“ S0! Do you mean—” '

The grasp on Stumps’s throat was tight-

ened.
“ I mean thet you’ve got ter die l” hissed the
intruder.

 

CHAPTER IV.
HUNTED on HAUNTED?

STUMPS realized his peril fully. A night in-
truder is alwa s an object of dread, but the"
directness of t is man’s words, his demeanor,
and his actions, left no doubt as to his intentions.
He had'tightened his hold until the crippled
object of his revenge could not cry out, and all
thin s seemed to be going his way.

“You’ll squeal on us, an’ git the perleece on
our track, Will you!” added the wouldebe assas-
sin. “You’ll identify the body an’ the ring,
will ye? Wal, you ve done harm enough,
already, but you 1 never do any more. y

ood-by to the world, an’ go to join Elnoras

aughter!”

Tighter gripped the cruel fingers, and Stumps
knew he would die, unaided and alone, unless
his individual efforts could save him.

He began to struggle desperately.

His crippled leg was very much against him
but he was young enough to retain his old
strength, otherwise, and his enemy found this
was no trifle. While the one was busy the other
was, and Stumps dealt the unknown several
bilows in the face which must have done execuo
t on.

But Stumps could not guide all of his strokes,
and the other held grimly to his throat.

It seemed an age to Stumps that they strug-
gled there, and the bed crashed and groaned
under their evolutions. He felt his senses going
under the strangulation that was well under

 

way, and summoned all his strength for a last
effort.

He gave a blow with such force and accuracy
that his aSSailant staggered back and released
his hold, and then Stumps sounded a long, loud
cry for help.

‘ You will, will ye?” hissed the unknown.
“ Then we’ll see, w’ot a knife kin do !”

He sprung to the attack, again; there was a.
heavy blow not made with his hand, alone, and
Stumps felt a knife glide along his side, so close
that its Cold surface was a parent to his flesh,
and the wielder’s hand struc Stumps’s body as
the blade was buried in the bed.

Recollection of his crippled leg was.vivid,
then, and, realizing h0w helpless he would be in
a chase around the room, be determined to try
strategy. He groaned loudly and, though fear-
ful as to the result, lay still.

The artifice would not have saved him had
not the unknown been confused by the blows he
had received, and by sounds in the next room
which told that others in the house were astir,
alarmed by the cry for help.

Twice more he struck, one blow, only, touch-
ing the mark, and then desire for his own safety
overcome all other feelings.

eIgelieving his work was done, he turned and

A few moments later two men, lodgers in the
house, hurriedly entered the room. They saw
the crippled man lying motionless on the bed
the sheets of which were stained with blood, an
they rushed to a conclusion.

“ Dead, and murdered!” exclaimed one of the;
new-comers. “ Quick, Dan l—run for a police-
man! The assassin can’t be far away, and he
may be caught, yet. Poor Stumps!”

 

The followin morning one of the daily papers
had this artic e, prefaced by gory head-lines in
big letters:

“ A man whose real name is unknown, but was
familiar! called ‘ Stum s,’ was murdered last night-
at No. 1 —— street. he perpetrator of the crime
was a negro girl who had become enraged by of-
fensive remarks from Stumps, concerning her color.
At the hour of going to ress no arrests had been.
made. As is usual with t iis pa er we had a reporter
early on the scene. Where t e reporters of our
esteemed contemporaries were we know n- t, unless
they were in bed. Our readers know what paper to
buy to get the correct and latest newa.”

This announcement sent Jim Royal in haste to
Mr. Stumps’s quarters, and he was there sur-
prised to find that gentleman calmly disposing
of his breakfast. ,

“ What! aren’t you dead 1” he asked.

“No. Did ye see it in the paper Jeems?"

“ Yes; that is what brought me here.”

“ That’s the best evidence that it ain’t so. I
had some doubts on the subjick, myself, this
mornin’, fer I was a good ’eal broke up but
when I read in the paper that I was dead I felt
relieved; it Was sure proof that I was alive.”

“ But was there no ground for the report?”

“ There was a. heap of it, though imagination
an’ bra entered mostly inter the Daily Liar’s
note. ain’t dead, an’ the colored girl is a
myth. An ambitious reporter heard there was
a murder, an’ he give his fancy full play an’
furnished a murderer off-hand, Very likely the
colored girl will be arrested in the evenin’
edition, but the police won’t know of it. But,
hear my story 1”

He told of the assault, leaving out the conver-
sation at the bedside, and explaining that his
wound had been a mere scratch, so that when he
recovered from his swoon he was all right, bar-
ring a nervous shock.

“ But, J eems, the attack was all fer the best:
We are on the right track as ter the drownded
girl. She was Elnora Block’s daughter!”

“ How do you know?”

“ My assailant give it away.”

Stumps then told what the would-be strangler
had said at his bedside. _

“ Among them who viewed the girl’s body
after we brought it fer New York was some one
who was concerned in making way with her.
He heard me 3 ak o’ the ring, an’ of Elnora
Block, an’ knew had put the police on the right
track. Ter revent me doin’ more ter direct
suspicion a ’ n’ them, he, or a hired a ent, come
ter kill me at night, an’ it wan’t no suit 0’ his
that he failed. Ain’t m guess right?”

“ I believe it is, Mr. tumps.”

“ Then we’re on the track, Spotter Jim.”

“ So are the enemy, it seems.”

“ We kin defy them.”

“ We can’t defy attacks like this.” '-

“ We must either do or avoid them, Jeeme,
for they are likely ter keep up, or try to. As for

, me, my obituary has been writ up, an’ I’m dead.

I’m goin’ ter remain so, for the present. A de-

 

 

 

‘\ 

 

    

ffiw.——.—_. -4 . -. .

. 0K].

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt. 5

 

 

tective was here this mornin’, an’ be agreed that
the whole perleece department should retire inter
secrecy, an’ say no more about me. Pm dead /
It’s hard fer a on e-legged man ter disguise him-
self, but these respectable clothes 0’ mine are ter
be laid on the shelf ter-day, an’ I blossom out in
rags, ter masquerade 92 an old beggar, but still
one o’ the Spotter Trio.”

“ I catch your idea.”

“ I wish, J eems, you an’ me an’ Bobby could
catch them diabolical rascals.”

“ We’ll try.”

“ The first thing is ter find out who Elnora
Block married, an’ ter do that we must hunt up
the owners of old Cap’n Block’s vessel.”

H Yes.”

“ I’m afeered they’re out 0’ business.”

“ What about the Angel 0’ the Docks?”

"‘ I can’t grasp th‘lt myst’ry. The girl can’t
be alive and dead, both, at once. The Angel puz-
zles me, I allow. But ef she goes often ter the
pier, we kin lay in wait for her there, an’ fol-
ler her home. There may, or may not, be hope
iom her.”

“ Bobby is sanguine, and I believe he is right.”

“ Well, we will sift all the evidence. Ef that
poor girl was Miss Elnora’s child, [’11 avenge her
death ef it takes ten years to do it.”

The matter was discussed further, and then
Jim went out and ordered a cab. In this
Stumps was taken to another house, and in a
few hours he had developed into a very ragged
man who wore blue-glass goggles. As he said, it
was not a very perfect disguise, but he did not
believe any of the enemy had been able to fix his
face in memory, and he might do some good
work against them.

Jim had promised to take Bobby Blossom with
him, and he was on his way to join his young
ally when he chanced to observe a man who was
standing in a doorway and peering out fur-
tively.

The frightened expression on this man’s face
attracted J im’s notice still further, but he would
have passed in silence had not the man run out
and stopped him.

Seiziug Jim’s arm he eagerly asked:

“ Did you see any one ’round the corner?”

“ I saw a good many folks.”

“ But I mean a—a girl l”

“ I saw several girls.”

“ But this one was slight an’ pale.”

The stranger was pale, himself, though not
slight, and his wild, frightened expression was
like that of a hunted animal.

Jim Royal saw all this with vague curiosity.
I “if i saw her, I did not notice her in particu—
ar.

“ Mebbe she’s gone.”

“ Is she after you?”

“ I’m afraid so. ”

“What have you been doing to her?”

“ N othin’, nothin’l” was the hasty reply.

“Then why are you afraid of her?”

“ I ain‘t afraid of anybody,” the man asserted,
but his manner belied his words. “ I ain’t done
anything out 0’ the way, but that don’t mean
but I’m persecuted. When a woman sets out ter
sorry a min she does it in a little, low, mean
way no man ever could imitate.”

This explanation was made without any spirit,
and the speaker looked steadfastly at the pave-
ment. Not once was his gaze raised to meet
J im’s. When he had made his so-called explan-
ation he added an abrupt “ Good-day l” and has-
tened off.

Jim went his way, too, but was soon accosted
again, this time by an intelligent-looking me-
chanic.

“ What’s Ira Rickettn been giving you, sir?”
he asked.

“ Who is Ira Ricketts?”

“ The man you were just talking with.”

“ Oh! Well, Ira said something about the
weather, if I recollect aright. What’s the mat-
;ter with him?”

“ I don’t know; he’s all broke up..,the last few
days, over something. Ira is a good fellovV, and
I hate to see him so 03. I don’t know whether
an enemy is chasing him, or he has got a crazy
fit coming on. Anyh0w, he is haggard and
wild-eyed, and goes skulking about the streets
like a hunted man. If you are a personal
friend of his, stranger I wish you’d keep an eye
on him, when near. I’m worried about him.”

 

CHAPTER V.
sr-or'rING A SPORT.

J as did not see that Ira Ricketta’s case need
interest him to an great extent, and he made a
suitable reply to t e last speaker and then went
Finding Bobby Blossom, he weht with him
to visit the police and learn if there were

 

 

any new developments in regard to the drowned
1r .

g The papers of the day had a full account of
the finding of the body, together with Stumps’s
alleged identification of the ring, his reference
to Elnora Block, and a call for information as
to the present whereabouts of the sometime own—
ers of the vessel of which Block had been cap-
tain.

On their arrival the amateur detectives were
informed that there was nothing new.

\Vhile they were hesitating what to do next a
young man made his appearance. He probably
fancxed that he was faultlessly attired, and
money had certainly been put out generously on
his outfit, but with such taste that his rank in
life was to be determined by an expert at one
glance.

“ A sport,” Jim thought. “ Is he a gambler,
a bunco—steerer, or does he keep within the pale
of the law?

After a careless glance around the room he
nodded affably to the officer in charge, and then
observed: -

“ My name is Delno IVainbridge.”

“Have you business, sir?”

“ Yes. I have read the account of the
drewned girl, and have called in regard to the
matter.”

“ Did you know her?”

“ Oh, no! 1 am unable to give any light, but
have dropped around to prevent the police from
wasting any time on a false clew. If the one-
legged man was sincere in his statements, he
was on the wrong track.”

“ In what respect?”

“ The drowned girl cannot have been Elnora
Block’s child, for Miss Block died unmarried.”

“ Are you sure?”

“ Perfectly. Although only about eleven

ears old when she died, I remember her distinct-

y, as well as Captain Block, who died a few
years after her. My father was half-owner in
the vessel, and retired from business when their
vessel became unseaworthy. He and his art-
ner are both dead. Elnora was lost at sea.’

“ How, then, do you account for the ring
being found?”

“I have not gone so far as to speculate on
that point. I am too busy a man to delve in
outside problems, and only called here, now, to
set you right. As to the ring, peculiar as it is
said to be, there may have been others like it, or
it may not have been on Miss Block’s hand when
she was washed overboard.”

“ Do you remember the ring she had?”

“No. sir.”

“Yet, it is said she always wore it.”

“ I was a boy. and not interested in women’s
jewelry. As well as I knew old Captain Block’s
daughter, I could not now describe a thing she
wore.”

“ You say she died—when l”

“About twenty years ago.”

“ Lost at sea?”

“ Yes, sir. She was as bold as she was
amiable, and insisted upon standing on deck
during a storm. A great wave broke over the
deck, and she was carried away. I know she
was not married. What became of the ring I
can’t say, for, as before stated, I remember
nothing about it.”

“ Did Captain Block have other children?”

“ No, sir.”

“ What relatives?”

“I don’t kn0w. I never knew of any.”

“ Theseeguestions are only formal, for, if Miss
Block d1 single, that settles the question of
marriage. Where did the captain die?”

“ P0881ny in New York; more likely, in Cuba,
where he had some land, or mercantile interests.
I was at school at Albany, at the time.”

‘ “That is all, Mr. Wainbridge.” a

The son of the sometime ship-owner took his
departure.

Now, not being a mind—reader, Jim was not
able to say whether the police sergeant took all
this statement to be a fact open to no doubt,
but, for himself, Jim was not inclined to swal-
low it all, readily. He did not like Delno Wain-
bridge. - The latter’s manner was plausible
enough, but, in the amateur detective’s estima-
tion, the fact that he was a sport was not in his
favor.

Jim was impressed with the belief that it
would do no harm to know more about a man
who knew so much.

Making a secret motion to Bobby Blossom,
while Wainbridge talked, he caused his ally to
leave, and be ready for action outside, but it
was S tter Jim’s wish to do the work himself,
unless e was prevented by accident.

This did not occur, and when Delno left the
office, without another glance at the smooth-

 

 

z

faced youth whom he had not recognized as
Stumps’s fellow~sailor, and had deemed unwor-
thy of attention, Jim quietly slipped out after
him.

Bobby’s face lengthened when he saw that the
work of following Wainbridge was to be taken
from him, but he acquiesced cheerfully in the
plan, and Jim went on alone.

Mr. Wainbridge’s manner had been mild and
modest in the office, and it continued so for some
time, but when fairly beyond sight of that
place, it changed. He began to swing his cane
jauntily, and look at passing girls more atten-
tive] than seemed necessary.

“ egular man-about-town,” the pursuer
thought. “ Maybe I am foolish to take all this
trouble, but such an airy butterfly as Mr. Wain-
bridge is not always easily located when wanted.
Nothing like placing him now.”

This was done, but not without difficulty. By
accident or design Delno took many a crook and
turn, and entered large buildings by one door
and left through another.

All this may have been accident, but no power
could have made James believe it then.

“He’s bound to throw ssible followers of!
the scent, but he’s gotto ustle to leave me. I
don’t think he has seen or suspected me yet, and
he must not.”

Skillful work on the pursuer’s part enabled
him to acco iplish his ends, and he finally saw
Wainbridge ter a building on one of the
streets contiguous to Wall street.

For a moment Jim hesitated at the door, but
he was determined to make abold ush. En-
tering promptly, he followed until ainbridge
entered an office. When the door closed Jim
read the lettering thereon. It was as follows:

“OKLAHOMA IRON-GLAD LAND 00.,
0f Wcu'cbagos, 0k.. and New York.
LLEWELLYN R Bax'ron. JOHN C. Puen.
Reliable In vest/nemx."

The investigator turned slowly aWay. Wain-
bridge had entered with the air of one perfectly
at home. Was he in a land investment com-
pany?

Jim was anxious to see some one and learn more
about the matter, if he could, but, while he was
considering whether it0would be safe, he had a
better idea.

He knew a very honorable Wall street man,
whose experience-and depth of‘information held
second place to no men’s, and as the ban'ker'was
under obligations to Jim, the latter Flt that he
might apply safely.

He went, and, after a little preliminary talk,
came to the point bluntly: ‘

“ Do you know anything about the Oklahoma
Iron—Clad Land Company?”

“What! has old Bellaire roped you into his
snap?"

“ Who, sir?”

“ Cheney Bellaire.”

“ I never heard of him.”

“ Ever hear of Llewellyn B. Benton and John
C. Pugh?” “

“ Their names are on the door of the land
company’s oflice.”

“ They are myths.”

“ And this Bellaire runs the thing?”

“ He is one of the conspirators; a certain Delno
Wainbridge is the other. But the visible persons
are clerks. Benton and Pugh are always ‘ out,’
or in Oklahoma. See?”

“ The thing is a swindle, then?”

,“ I think it is.”

" Who, and what, is Wainbridge?”

i“ He is the brains of the concern. Bellaire
is old and slow, but quick enough to turn a dol-
lar honestly or dishonestl y. Wainbridge has
had a varied and erratic career, with bucket-
shog keeping as a specialty. As a figure in
wil cat securities he stands with the leaders, yet
he never has hadl much to work with. Bunco
and blackmail would notshock Delno. Heou ht
to be in State Prison, but is one of those in er-
nale slippery fellows who always keep out of
trouble.
of New York, don’t neglect to label Wainbridgf,
‘The Man with the Peerless Sharp Tooth !’ a
would be hard to eclipse.”

“ Bellaire is just as bad?”

“ He is in with Delno, now, and from the wa
he dodges those who have invested with them, t
is clear he is not a Jonah but a shark.”

“ You don’t like then, I see.”

“ Bellaire I never knew to be a rascal until he
went into the land company. He was an old
sea-captain—retired only a few years ago.”

Jim grew frcshlv interestvd.

“ Is he married ?"

But when you put tags on the sharks'

 

 

‘6 The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

 

 

 

“No; and never was. He had a brother,
Harper Bellaire, who married. He was a clerk
at some foreign port. People used to say Harper
had all the brains of the family, but Captain
Cheney Bellaire got there with both feet, gener-
ally, if his wits did seem to work slowly.”

“ What has become of the brother?”

“ Dead l”

“ And his family?”

“I don’t know anything of them.”

“Whom did Harper marry?”

“ That I don’t know. I never saw him after
he was twenty-five, or such a matter. He went
away in Captain Bellaire’s vessel, but stopped off
at some foreign port, settled and married there.
That was my last look at him. I have a vague
impression, however, that he married the
daughter of some seafaring man. I think I
heard so.”

 

CHAPTER VI.
A HIGHLY IMPORTANT PAPER.

JUST as Jim was about to abandon the inter-
view, his interest was freshly aroused by the last
statement.

“ Would you know the name of his wife if you
heard it?” he asked, quickly.

“ No. I think not."

“ It wasn’t Elnora Block?”

Evidently the banker had not read the account
of the drowned girl, for he shook his head.

“ I don’t know. I didn’t lay it up, if I ever
heard it, and it’s twenty-five years since I saw
Harper Bellaire. Memories of passing associ-
ates die out in that time, you know.”

The banker had told all he (could, and Spotter
Jim left the office. As he walked away he
struggled with the question: Had be wasted all
his time in making these inquiries? He could
not see much light in it all, but was not sorry
that he had learned so much about Wainbridge
and Bellaire. If it did no good, it could do no
harm.

He was pursuing his way when a very ragged
man appeared in his path.

“ Hello, Stum s!” be exclaimed. “ You here?”

“ You bet! ’ve been working on an idea,”
replied the wooden-legged man.

“ On our case?”

“ Yes, an’ I’ve got news, Jeems. Do you
know, after I see you last I thought ofa man
who ought ter know more about Elnora Block.
I went ter see him, an’ I’ve got a p’inter, though
w’ot it will amount ter, I don t know. I’ve
found out that Elnora married.”

. “ Did she really marry?”
“ Sure! His name I didn’t learn, though. He
4 never was known ter the man who told me.
One thing more: Old Cap’n Block died in New
York. 'Now, what is the next step we’re tor
take?"

“ I’ve been thinking. Did Captain Block
leave any money, or real estate?”

“ I hev a notion he left both. He once had a
house, an’ his total ought ter hev riz up in the
small thousands.”

“’l‘ifen, my friend, there is still hope for us.
Unless he sold his property before he died, and
presented the cash to his daughter, or some one
else, there should be a record of his will, or the
settlement of his estate.”

“ Right, right!" Stumps cried, quickly. “ I’m
in rags, but you ain’t. Go you an’ look. The
old cap’n was very systematic, an’ it would be
jest like him ter make a will, even ef he give all
ter his daughter; an’ ef he did make one, her
name is sure ter appear in it. Go an’ see ef sech
a will was probated.”

It was new work for Jim, but he bearded the
guardians of the department in their den, and,
after a little delay learned two things. First,
there was a will of Jonathan Block, mariner;
secondly, he could see it.

With growing eagerness he unfolded the paper
and was soon perusmg it.

The will began with an expression of the tes-
tator’s belief in a Divine Father and His mer-
cies; then directed that all the testator’s “just
debts” be paid; then proceeded to business in
these words:

“ Imprtmik : I give and bequeath to my beloved
and dutiful daughter, Elnora, wife of Harper Bellaire.
now resxding at Calcutta, India, as a token of my
love to her, my only direct heir, all and sundry the
moneys. bonds, notes, deeds real estate, or whatso-
ever other article. or articles. I may die seized of,
after the pa ment, or bestowal, of the sums, or
articles, men ioned in the Items Lereafter named.”

Then followed several “ Items," in which two
hundred dollars in small legacies, and several
articles of nominal value, . were disposed of.
Gig one bequest proved of value to the investi-
l‘ 1'-

 

It was as follows:

“ [hm .- I give and bequeath to Capt. Cheney Bel-
laire, brother of Harper Bellaire, my gold-mounted
walking—stick; the same he once presented to me, as
I wish it to return to its proper owner, as a memento
of a fellow-sailor."

Only one thing more held Jim’s attention; the
name of the executor was there, and he copied
it carefully. ‘

He left the offlce‘in a very different frame of
mind than when he entered. The case was
moving on.

Elnora Block had married Harper Bellaire,
and Cheney Bellaire’s partner, Wainbridge, had
gone to the police with a strv which, beyond
doubt, he knew to be false. Why did he want
it believed? Was it he who wished it believed,
or—-did the hand of another man show through
the gauze?

Did Cheney Bellaire wish to stifle investiga-
tion as to the end of the drowned girl?

“ If so, why?

Returning to Stumps he made a full report,
to which that person listened with close atten-
tion. At the conclusion he shook hands gravely
with his ally. .

“Perhaps ef the police knew all this they
would want ter know ef I was sure that was
Elnora’s ring,” he observed, “ an’ then ag’in,

vrhaps they wouldn’t. Elnora married - arper

ellaire. Very likely they had a daughter.
Now, after eighteen or twenty years a girl is
found in the waters 0’ the bay, wearing that
ring. Found drownded? Who knows? The
marks 0’ human fingers are on her neck, but the
coroner ain’t said, yet, whether she was alive
when she went into the water or not.”

“Anyhow, I don’t believe she went in will—

ingl .”
“ {Tor me. Wal, that girl was Elnora’s child;
I’m just sure of it. What’s ter be done? Nat-
urally, we should rush ter Captain Bellaire, ter
ask fer information an’ ter give it, but he has
put a block in the way, happily fer us. With
investigation started in the right channel, Bel-
laire’s partner appears ter stop it. Why was his
lie told?”

“ For Bellaire’s sake.”

H  g”

“ Why,” Jim repeated, “ if he is not afraidto
have the truth known?”

“ Ay; but why should the man want ter
shut off investigation when his niece has met
with a tragic end? There are times, Jeems, when
the wicked over-reach themselves, an‘ this is
asample. When Bellaire sent his partner ter
tell thatlie, be furnished the first item 0’ proof
against himself. But fer that he might never
have been suapected. Now, we are on the track.”

“ Shall we go to the police?”

“ J come, you hev done some detective work in
aquiet way, before this, when the Three Spot-
ters gathered in the rogues who kidnapped the
actress. Why not keep it up? Why not look
around a bit, yourself, before goin’ ter others
with a story they may not believe?”

“ You put my own then hts in words.”

“ Do you see your way c ear?"

“ Bellaire must be shadowed, for one thing.”

“What else?”

“We cannot ignore the Angel of the Docks.
Her talk about {the face in the water, and her
claim that she was drowned, herself, would not
be worthy of notice, but she described the ring
to the letter. Recollect that the newspa rs had
not told the story, and Bobby had not card it
from us, when she talked on the pier and he
brought the news to us. The Angel of the Docks
knows something about it.”

“But I om’t see where she comes in.”

“ Nor I.”

“Anyhow, she must be watched for, an’ fol-
lertiili ,home. You or Bobby must do this ter-

t. ‘

“Right! My first move will be to see the
executor of Captain Block’s will, and I will go
there at once. You had better go back to
Bobby.”

“ I will.”

Stumps went to find young Mr. Blossom, but
did not succeed. There was good reason for
this; Bobby had secured a job.

After Jim left him he loitered on Broadway,
waiting for his friend to return, and indu ing
in a few games with a newsboy to as the t me,
but Time beat him out. Jim did not return,
and Bobby grew impatient: He was in this
mood when he saw a man up roaching whom
he quickly recognized as Deluo ainbridge.

Bobby thrust his hands into his pockets, as-
sumed a “ tough” look, and gazed hard at va-
vanc . He indulged the fond belief that, being
smal and young, he would escape all notice, but
it was. not to be.

i Deluo moderated his pace and looked steadily~
i at the boy.

Bobby did not take his own gaze away from
vacancy but was fully conscious of the regard.

“ His Nibs knows me!” was his reluctant con—
clusion.

Then the sport came, up quickly. .

" Hallo, ,youug fellow!” he exclaimed.

“ Hullo! Bobby returned, but in a surly
manner that went well with his “ tough ” ex—
pression.

“ How is business with you?”

“ Rushin’——by the door! ’

“ Do you want a job?”

” Does a boss want grass?"

“ I see,” Delno laughed. “ You are out of"
cash, and out of love with the world, and in--
clined to be an Anarchist. Well, other men feel
as you when hard pressed. What’s your name?”

“ Bios Roberts,” Bobby replied, promptly.

“ Just as good a handle as George Washington
Rothschild. Boy, are you built right so that
good pay would make you know just as much as.
your employer wishes, and no more!”

“ That s about my caliber, boss.” ~

“ Did you ever figure as a messenger boy?”

“ New.”

“Suppose I fitted you out in a messenger’s-
uniform, and sent you on an errand, could you,
and would you, do it well?” ‘

Bobby’s wits were working.

“ Et would all depend on how do ‘stufl’ was-
put up, boss. See?”

Wainbridge laughed.

“You are all right; just the kind of Young
America that is bound to succeed in the world.
Come with me to yonder cab, which I will en-
gage; and we will go where the uniform is.”

The junior member of the Spotter Trio obeyed,
and they were soon bounding up Broadway in
the vehicle. .

What Was before him young Mr. Blossom
knew not, but his was an adventuresome nature,
and he was bold enough to test the matter. He
hung grimly to his assumption of “toughness,”
and took care to deepen the impression on the
sport, without showing undue eagerness. Instead,
he held to his surly manner, but injected a dry
joke now and then, as if by accident, with good
effect.

Meanwhile, he was thinking.

“ Great guns! but wouldn’t I ketch it from R.
Blossom’s partners and relatives, ef this venture
was known? Jim suspects, the sport, an’ here
I’ve gone an’ put my prini-package anatomy
right in his grip. Wonder what it ill come. of it?”

Northward rolled the cab until Clinton plnce
was reached. There, at the corner of Broad way,
the vehicle Was dismissed, and the late passengers.
went on afoot. Their journey was almost end-
ed, hawever, and Dean used a latch-key and en-
tered one of the houses.

Clinton place does not abound in fine-looking
residences, and this house was no exception,
externally, but when the sport’s room was.
reached, it proved to be so luxuriously fur-
nished that Bobby looked around in astonish~
ment.

“ J eho-hoss—flv l” he ejaculated.

“ What is it?”

“ Say, be you the Prince 0’ Turkey?”

“ No. Why ?”

“ ’Cause this room is a perfect gem. Bet the
Czar of England ain’t got nothin’ like it. Why,
it’s jest like a dream, b"inksl”

"Glad you like it. _ uits my taste, too. Sit
down, Bios!”

“ What! in them chairs?”

5‘ Of course. Why not?”

“Yowlin’ cats! I’ll mash the red fuz all off
’um !”

Despite this prediction Bobby settled down in
one of the chairs, but did it very ingerly.
There had been no exaggeration in is coin~
ments. The room would have aroused admira-
tion in one evdi older and more experienced.

But the young corner of the Spotted Trio
soon turned his mind to more serious subjects.

CHAPTER VII. *
A YOUNG WOMAN CAUSES PERPLEXITY.

WAINBRIDGE brought out a suit of clothes
from a clmet.

“This,” he explained, “ is a genuine messen~
ger’s outfit. It belonged to an ex-member of the
messenger corps, and when he got through with
it, I fell heir to it.”

“ Where’s be now?” Bobby Blossom asked.

“ In Sing Sing.”

“ Got another sort 0’ uniform. eh?”

“It was all his own fault,” Deluo lained,
hastily. “ If he had obeyed me, he won d have
been all right. When I take up' with a boy I

 

   

 

 

 

 

advise him for his good. and if he obeys me, and
serves me well. I make a man of him.’

at I see.

Bobby believed he did see, but his belief and
Ir. Wainbridge’s intimation did not run in the
same chumiel.

The sport brushed the suit very carefully, and
then told Bobby to put it on. This was done,
and it proved to be an excellent fit. Then he
was brushed some more, and gazed at criti-
cally.

“ It’s a great go,” commented the sport, “ but
I wish you would abandon that sullen expres-
sion that rests on your face, now and then. You
look like a genuine Bowery tough, and would
scare a Fifth avenue dame into eleven different
{goings of fits—~bless her blue blood and heart of

el

“ I’ll try tcr look meek,” Bobby promised,
dutifully.

“ Well, you are to deliver a note at a certain
house on Delancey street, and I want it done in
a skillful and scientific way. Do you think you
are e as! to the demands of the occasion 3”

“ V hat salary do I git?”

“ Five dollars for the job.”

“Fer that royal sum I kin be skillful, dis-
creet, deep, cunuin’, an’as perlite an enticin’ as
thimap who holds a straight flush in a game 0’

er.

“ Good! The note is to a young woman
named Hilga Ermstroff. The name sounds very
Norwegian, but the old blood has petered outin
her; you’ll find her English enough. You are
not to know much when you get there, but
what you do know you’ll be sure of, and what

y0u don’t know you won’t even guess at. See?”
“ Yes.”
“ You will know this, and no more: If ques-

tioned, say that a young lady called at the tele-
graph office where you are employed and asked
for a messenger to carry a letter. As you were
first on the list, you got the job. That’s all you
know, except that, if requestcd, you can de-
scribe the lady who Sent the note.”

“ W’ot’s her inventory?”

“ About twenty years old, well dressed, pleas-
ant looking- with brown hair and an aristocratic
manner. Know this; know nothing more.”

N I’m on.”

“ Are you ready to go?”

“ Ready an’ waitin’.”

“ Ofi? you go, then.”

The sport handed over the letter, and called
Bobby’s attention to the street and number on
the envelope, so there need be no mistake; and
then be was started off on his errand.

He went in a state of uncertainty. Was he
on the trail of something import-int, or not? If
he had known of Jim’s discovti'ies since their
first view of Delno Waiubridge, the question
would not have been so much of a puzzle. As
it was. Bobby was proceeding wholly in the
dark, feeling that he might be engaged in some
non-important service, but too careful to let any
chance slip to learn more about the sport.

He read the name on the envelope.

“ Hilga Ermstrofi’ l Don’t know her. Some
Swedish nightingale—or did Delno say she was a
Norwegian! It don’t matter; the point is, he I
interested in the case? There is mischief afoot,
fer the sport has ordered me ter tell lies. R.
Blossom, E~quire, them lies ain’t told yet, an’
whether they ever be, or not, depends on w’ot
you find on Delancey street.”

The latter place was reached in due time, and
the speCifiei ouse proved to be one of fair out-
ward appearance. He rung the hell and briskly
addressed the lady who appeared—a. thin, augu-
lar person of middle age.

“ Miss Hilga Ermstrofl in '1?” i

it Yes.”

“ Got a dockyment fer her.”

“ I’ll take it in.”

“ 1’s ter d’liver it in person.”

“ Very well; Ill see her about it.”

The speaker’s manner was hesitating, and she
looked at the envelope in such a curious, uncer-
tain way that Bobby was puzzled to know What
fiomplication he had Struck at this end of the

no.

“ You can wait here while I go up,” she added.

“ W’Ot’s the matter with me goin’ up, too?”

“ I’m not sure she will see you.”

“ But I’ll ter d’liver this letter inter her own
hands.”

‘ am perfectl willing. All will de nd u n
her. Let me goyand tell her, and v9: wil be
governed by her decision.”

The woman was as honest-looking and straight-
forward as she was homely, and Bobby decided
that she was not trying to play any ame on
him. He yielded to her wishes, an waited
while she went up-stairs. . She was gone along

 

’o  | . ‘ , i

 

time, and returned, finally, with a serious expres-
sion.

“ Hilda declines to see you 1”

H  g”

“ She says she don’t want to.”

“ Did ye tell her my orders about handin’ the
letter to her personally i"

“Yes.”

:‘ An’ she won’t see me?”
t ,7

“ Then I’ll hang on ter the letter.”

“ Wait a little. She was very firm, but I
thought you would want to talk with her in
person, so she has agreed to converse through
the speaking- tube. One end is on the upper
floor; the other, in this hall, yonder.”

She indicated the place.

“Great yowlin’ cats! be I ter talk through
that thingumjig?” Bobby demanded, aghast. "I
ain’t never had no experience, an’ don’t b’lieve
I shall cover myself with glory. How d’ye
make the critter work, anyhow?”

Due directions were given to him, and then
be tried his hand, or, rather his lungs, for, with
his mouth close to the orifice, he loudly shouted:

“ Hello, Central l”

“ Who is there?" came a faint reply, down the

tube.

“Hello! hellol Gimme Hilga Ermstrcff, an'
don‘t be all day about ir, Central! Hello, hello!”

“Don’t be absurd,” the woman directed.
“This is not a telephone. Talk in a natural
way.”

But Bobby could hear nothing from above,
and be repeated:

“ Hello! hello i"

“ Are you the boy?” came the faint reply!

“ I’m him.”

“ Go away i”

“Eh? Hello! hello! I mean, w’ol’s that? I
go away? Hello! hello! But I’ve got a letter
fer you. Lmve it here? Can’t do it; orders
ter give it ter you in persmi. What’s thin?
You w0n’t see me? But, say—hellin hell»!—
w‘ot be I goin’ trl‘ do with the leitcr? .You
don’t care for it? But it’s important. Me go
off, or you’ll call the perleecei b‘ny, don’t be
tough on a feller. Why not see llh’? I’m only
a boy. Why don’t you answilr? Hell)! hello!”

These comments and calls were broken by
waits of long or short periods, according as
the Other party to the Conversation ansWered,
or would not answm‘. Much of the time she
would say nothing, and Bobby saw that his
mission was threatened with complete failure.
Now, all was perfectly still above.

“ Hello! hello!" he called again.

There was no answer.

“ Hellol hello!”

“I think she has gone away,” remarked the
woman.

“Guess the circuit is shut off. Can’t we ring
up Central again?”

“ If you want to act the clowu, go elsewhere
to do it; this is not a telephone, I tell you. It is
a speaking-tube with no branches, and no ‘ Cen-
tral.’ ”I am not surprised that Hilga won’t see

on—

y “ Why won’t she?”

“ I don’t kn0W."

“ Who is she?”

“A new lodger of ours. For further particu-
lars 1 must refer you to the lady. herself—when
you see her. As for the letter, she undoubtedly
will consent toreceive it if you wish to send it
up. Further than that I have nothing to say.
T is is your business, and, having see that you
can’t manage it in the way you selected, you
must decide what you will do now.”

Bobby meditated. Clear] , he could not finish
the undertaking us directe . This would be no
greater disappointment to Delno Wainbridge
than it was to Deluo’s messenger. The latter
had been very eager to see Hilga Ermstrofl‘, and
was signally baffled.

“ Wal,” he remarked, with a sigh, “you kin
take the letter up, I s’pose, but- afore you do it,
I’d like ter inquire why Miss Hilga is so obsti-
nate. Why won’t she seeme?”

“ I don’t know.’

“ But can’t you gueSs?”

“ Knowing her but little, I cannot.”

BObby felt sure this answer meant, “ I will
not,” in plain English, but he accepted the situa-
tion as philosophically as possible. The woman
took the letter up, was gone ten minutes, and
then returned with the report:

“ No anewerl”

The messenger stood in silence for several
minutes, and then turned and went out sl0w1y
Without another word. Back to Delno Waini
bridge he went and poured out his story, and
his disappointment was so keen that it entered
into his voice and manner, and the sport knew

The Street Spotters’ 'Weird Hunt. 7

 

 

 

his work had been done as faithfully as any
one could desire. Evidently, the result trou-
bled the employer, for after asking many ques-
tions, he paced the room 11] silence tor several
minutes.

Once, he muttered a comment on the luck
which was far from amiable, but that was all.
Finally he turned toward Bobby.

“You have done very well in this matter,
and though, owing to causes beyond your con-
trol, it has been a signal failure, you have well
earned your money. Now, you can resume
your own clothes, but leave your address hero.
I may have other work for on to do; I often
have jobs for a sharp, faithfu boy.”

CHAPTER VIII.
MYSTERIOUS EVENTS ON THE: PIER.

BOBBY left Mr. Wainbridge and went in
search of his own allies. He found Jim and
Stumps at the former’s-room, and a general
comparison of notes followed.

In the light of what Jim knew, and suspect-
ed, in regard to the sport, the latter’s latest
movsments became interesting. There was
nothing to show that he was pursuing the same
scheme developed by his visit to the police and
accompanying lies in regard to Elnora Bl ck,
and the Three Spotters did not know who Hilga
Ermstrofl" was but their curiosity was aroused,
and they pondered over the matter some time.

Matters that seemed more importantdemand-
their attention, howewr.

Jim had called at the house where lived the
administrator of old Captain Block’s will, but
that gentleman u as out.

He had been told to return at eight o’clock,
that night.

"This I shall do, of course,” he explained,
“ but there is other work to be done. 0! all our
mysuries none is more interesting, or intricate,

 

‘ than that which surrounds the Angel of the

Docks. You, Bobby, will be just the person for

‘ this work, I think.”

 

“Me, too!" Bobby agreed.

“But don’t let her see you. My idea is that
you had better hide on the pier, watch for her
coming, and, if she does come, let her move
about unspoken to, and without gaining View of
you. Then, when she lea ves, you must follow
her home silently, carefully and surely."

“ Right you be, James the Ten-times!” Bobby
agreed.

“ This woman who gees to the docks and peers
down fora drowned girl “bu were such a fa-
mous ring must be investigated.”

“ I’m the huckleleri'y fer the jol-l"

Night was at him-I, and, aftcra thorough dis-
cussion of the subjncr, the Spotter 'l‘rio had sup-
per and prepared for the wt rk. Stumps w’aa
not to go out, but he agreed to sir'okc and wish
them well, and started his pipe cm 1y.

Bobby Blossom went (if in his usual sanguine
mood. He felt that he was destined for a great
detective, and hoped to rove the fact in a hurry.
He made his way to the pier at once. Be hesi-
tated in regard to calling in his friends, the
Tiernans, and ended by keeping a“ ay.

He was afraid Ticrnan would insist upon help-
ing him, which would detract from his own
laurels. ,

After looking the deserted pier over he selected
his hiding—place. This was a battered old box
which lay on he side, and he crawled inside like
a dog to its kennel, and waited.

He could see clear to the street.
in sight.

Ten minutes passed, and then dark shapes ap-
peared at the street~end of the pier. They drew
nearer. and resolved themselves into the for n' of
two men. Oue began to hesitate, but his it How
seized his arm and roughly dragged him for-
ward.

“ Drunks!” muttered Bobby, in disgust. “ Ef
they knock my scheme out I’ll hev them arrested
fer hevin’ a jug on.”

But the men were not intoxicated, as he soon
perceived. He who hesitated was actuated by
some other motive, but it was not considered by
his companion. He dragged his fellOW forward
to the edge of the pier.

“ There, you fool!” be exclaimed, “ do you see
anything that is goin’ ter bite you?”

“ No,” was the low re ly. .

“ Wal, ye won’t, an’ wish you’d git over yer
childish fears. Why, you’re tremblin’, now I’

“ I’m frightened, Barney.”

“ What (it? Ghosts?”

“ I don’t believe in sech things—at least, I
never used to. But, surely, of there be ghosts,
we shall see them!”

“ Stuff! Rubbish l”

“ What ef one should rise out 0’ that black ex-
panse 0’ water!”

No one was

   

 

   
 

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

 

“ Oh! you make me tired, Ira Ricketts!”

Bobby was listening with interest, but men~
tion of the last name made him all the more so.
Jim Royal had told of the man thus named
whom he had seen on. the street corner, and it
was plain" that the same person now stood on the
pier.

“ Your conscience may be scared, but mine
ain’t,” replied Ira, with more spirit. “ We were
strong men who ought ter been in better busi—
ness, lettin’ alone the wickedness of it; but We
went right on. I never would ’a’ been in it,
though, of I": Ln'm‘n what was ter be done.”

“Did we do .‘3 all purpose?”

H No.”

“ Then w’ot be you howliu’ erbout?”

“ It’s w’ot we did, not w’ot we meant tor.”
be“ l’ldebbe you want ter turn informer? Meb—

Barney bent until his mouth was near Ira’s ear
and added several words in a lower tone which
the eager listener did not hear. Ira started.

" No, no!” he cried; “ I never shall tell. Tell?
Me~ (-it'ul Providence! my great concern is that
it will leak out, without anybody tellin’. I am
all unnerved, an’ fancy danger in the most trif-
liu’ sound. Why only ter-day I see agirl on the
street so much like her that I thought she had
come back ter life, an’ I hid in a doorway an’
was scared out 0’ my wits.”

“ You never had any wits tor be scared out 0’

on.

“ That’s all right, McCurdy, but I’d never
joined you of I’d known as much 0’ your purpose
ez I do now.”

“You knew it then; you don’t. now. I tell
you we meant no harm. That’s straight. But we
wander from the subjick. Here we be, an’ I
want, you ter see that there’s nothin’ here ter,harm
you.

“,I ain’t so sure 0’ that.”

“ Expect a ghost ter rise up, do ye?”

“ I think that girl must haunt the place, even
ef she ain’t visible to us.”

“ Rubbish! The dead don’t come back.”

" Some claim they do, an’ the girl may he look-
in’ at us, even now. She may be watchin’ in
spirit from over her poor body. She may hear
every word we say. She may be near enough,
in spirit form, tor touch us—l’

“ Are you looking for my body 1’”

In a low, plaintive vmce came the question
just behind the men. Both turned suddenly,
startled to an extreme. Before them stood a f e-
male form, and the night was not so dark but
that they could see by its slight, graceful forma-
tlon that she was young.

“ Do you see my face floating in the water?”
she added, in the same, plaintive, far-away
veice.

Barney McCurdy uttered a yell of terror, and
throwing all restraint to the winds, ran madly
down the pier. His companion was dazed, but
as the new-comer lifted her hand the spell broke,
and with a gasp of terror, he sprung away in
Barney’s wake.

Their feet pounded on the pier for a few
seconds, but terror gave unusual speed to their
headlong flight, and they were soon gone from
si ht and hearing.

hen the object of their fright turned and put
her hand to her head in a puzzled way.

“ I don’t understand it,” she murmured.

Bobby Blossom was still in the box, but he did
not fully share the alarm of the men. The new-
comer was no stranger to him; it was the Angel
of the D0cks. She appeared precisely as she had
before, and was, no doubt, of the same sub-
stance, human or spirit, as it might be.

But at that moment Spotter Robert’s faith
was shaken. Example is conta ions and he was
led to ask himself: Was the ngei really hu-
man?

There was a rapid throbbing under his jacket
on the left side, and he would not have quarreled

with any one who accused him of being afraid.‘

He gazed with rapt attention at the girl wan-
derer of the night.

Human or spirit?

He con d not tell, and all his natural common
sense failed to calm him at once. He felt more
like keeping quiet than acting the bold detective.

The Angel of the Docks advanced to where the
men had beta standing, and, as on the previous
night, stood gazing down at the water. She
moved from point to point, presently, and kept
up the scrutiny—a work which seemed very
weird and unwholesome to Bobby, though he
be an to recover his courage.

oreovor, he began to fear that McCurdy and
Ricketts would come back, but she had the scene
to herself.

Nearly half an hour passed before she showed
any signs of leaving. Then, with a sigh, she

 

abandoned her vain search and began to walk
away.

Bobby quietly crawled out of the box.

“Ghost, goblin or woman, I’m bound ter foller
her,” he decided. “ I guess I’m as safe from her
as she is from Barney an’ Ira.”

It was a natural supposition. The boundless
terror the Angel of the Docks had inspired in
the men’s minds was proof enough that she had
recalled thoughts of some crime, and it seemed
natural that they should seek to Solve the ques-
tion—human, or spirit? ,

Bobby thought she would be lucky to getaway
safely.

She left the pier with the singular simple con-
dence which marked all her movements, and
was not boldness; no one would be attracted by
her coming and going unless previously interest-
ed.

Bobby looked to the right and left. Were the
men hiding by Tiernan’s house, or elsewhere, to
intercept her?

She passed the most critical point, and reached
the street. Without the least hesitation she
went on her way, and as one corner after an-
other was passed, the pursuer was forced to the
belief that McCurdy and Ricketts had been
so thoroughly frightened that they had no desire
to return, or to sue her again.

Bobby’s feelings toWard them were not of this
nature. They had suddenly assumed impor-
tance in his estimation. The chief points of
their conversation on the pier remained vivid in
his mind, and their own words, together with
their fears, later, led him to a conclusion.

Ricketts was dismayed because of some crime
they had committed, and if it was not the slay-
ing of a girl on the pier, their speech had been
very deceptive. Moreover, they had thought
ththngel of the Docks to be the ghost of the
SIM " girl.

What was all this mystery?

Certain theories were in Bobby’s mind, but
he was still at a loss for the main thread;
suspicions were common, but proof was lacking.

On went the Angel in her quiet way, and her
lightness of foot amazed the pursuer. At times
what was practical in his mind wavered. Was
she really a spirit?

At last she reached a vicinity he had seen
before that day, and, turning, she paused at
the door of a Certain house, fitted a key to the
lock, opened the door, entered and disappeared
fr0m view.

Bobby Blossom stopped short and stood look-
ing blankly at the house.

It was the same Delancey street residence to
which he had been sent by Delno VVainbridge;
the place where he had tried in vain to deliver a
letter to Hilga Ermstrofi‘ 1

“Great yowlin’ cats!” he ejaculated, “w’ot.

does this mean? Is that house an orfin asylum
for young women? Is it full 0’ ghosts an’ queer
live-gals? Ef not, w’ot is it? Here is the Angel
hived, an’ here lives Hilga. Sport Wainbridge
is interested in Hilgn; the pier toughs think the
Angel is the ghost of a gal they made way with;
a drowned gal was found in the bay. What
does it mean? R. Blossom, you are on the track
0’ the biggest myst’ry you ever heard tell of.
You be, h’ mighty 1”

He lingered, watching the house.

Would the Angel remain there?

"W as it possible that Hilga might appear?

Would it be prudent to ring the bell and ask
for particulars?

He considered this point for some time, but, in
the end, decided negatiVely.

“Not fer Ephraim l” he declared. “ I’d be
liable ter put my foot inter it, an’ I’ll jest sail
back ter port an’ let Cap’n Jim grapple with the
case. That’s my best bolt.”

And he hastened away.

CHAPTER IX.
THE HERMIT OF DELANCEY STREET.

IN the mean while Jim was attending to his
part of the work. Anxious to question the ex—
ecutor of Captain Block’s will he presented him-
self at that gentleman’s house at the hour it was
said he would be in.

There was no trouble in getting audience with
him, and one look at his patriarchal, honest
face was enough to show that he was not one to
be concerned in lawless plots and crimes.

Jim explained that he was seeking for infor-
mation in regard to Captain Block’s family,
and was not bothered with any cross-ques-
tionin .

“ Afi gone now!” sighed the executor. “ The
captain left but one child, and she is dead.”

“ Her name was—”

“ Elnora.”

“Did she ever marry i”

 

“ Oh! yes; married Harper Bellaire, brother
of Captain Cheney Bellaire who, as far as I
know, is still a resident of New York.”

“ Did you know the two families well, Mr.
Aymer?” ’

“ I knew the Blocks intimately; the Bellaires,
slightly. Cheney Bellaire was a sea-captain;
Harper, a clerk in Calcutta, India. Harper was
a good fellow. I can‘t say as much for Cheney;
I never liked him. I have an idea that the Cap-
tain swindled his brother, or the latter’s heirs,
whoever they were. While Harper was still in
New York the brothers purchased a tract of
Western land together, for almost nothing._ A
town finally sprung up there, grew to be a City,
and has made Cheney rich. It must have been
very valuable in the last part of Harper’s life,
but I don’t think he ever knew of it. Remote
from the United States he left Cheney to care
for their interests. Letters I then received
from Harper Speak of his poverty. Then, I did
not know of the land’s rise in value; now, read-
ing them, I believe Harper was wronged.’

“ You speak of Harper Bellaire’s heirs. Who
were they?”

“ I don’t know. Perhaps Captain Cheney was
sole heir; anyhow, I believe he scooped in every-
thing.”

“ Did Harper leave no children?”

It NO.”

“ Didn’t he ever have any?”

“ Yes; a daughter, Lenore.”

“ What became of her?”

“I supposed you knew. Harper Bellaire, his
wife and child were lost at sea.”

Jim’s expression became grave.

“ Are you sure?”

“ Yes. The family made a voyage in Captain
Bellaire’s vessel, the ‘ Glideaway,’ I believe; and
all were lost in a storm.”

“ Do you know this to be true?”

“Well, I can hardly say I know it. No; I
don’t know it. I was not there, and never have
seen any one who was, but the report came to
New York and was circulated among those who
once knew Harper Bellaire. It was never ques-
tioned to my knowledge. But why do you ask?
Do you doubt it?”

This was a question which Jim did not care to
answer in full. While his companion seemed to
be a man of perfect honor it would do no good
to pour out all the secrets of the Spotter Trio in
such a happy-go—lucky style. He answered Mr.
Aymer in a diplomatic way, and, when satisfied
that he had learned all that was to be told, left
the house and returned to Stumps.

While no great discovery had, been made, one
important point had been arrived at: Elnora
Block had not only married, but been the
mother of a daughter.

“ It is curious,” Jim remarked, to Stumps,
“ how this statement agrees and disagrees with
that made by Delno Wainbridge when he visited
the police and told his story—a story which we
believe was inspired by Captain Bellaire.”

h Sure!”

“ Both accounts affirm that Elnora Block was
lost at sea, but while her old friend, Mr. Aymer,
avows that she was a wife and a mother, Wain-
bridge positively declared she never was mar-
ried.”

“ An’ that’s jest where the eleven hoof shows,”
declared Stumps. “ Cheney Bellaire sent him
there with a lie. If caught in it, Wainbridge,
who seems ter have no interest, has only ter say
he was mistaken—so they think. But why need
the lie be told i” \

“Because there is a guilty secret to hide.”

“ An’ they don’t want the drownded girl iden-
tified.”

“ Why not, if Elnora’s child was lost at sea?”

“ That’s it; why not? My friend, there’s an
awful black ‘ nigger in the wood- ile,’ an’ it’s fer
us ter find out the shape 0’ the frican gentle-
man.”

“I am eager to hear Bobby’s re rt.”

And Bobby was eager to ma 9 it, as was
shown when he arrived. He entered with his
eyes looking preternaturally large, and, as was
his custom when excited, dashed his cap down
on the floor. '

“ Great yowlin’ cats!” be ejaculated.

“ What now?”

“Beloved feller-citizens, you’ve missed more
fun ter-night than the boy who went ter the
circus instead 0’ tyin’ a. tin-canonter the dog’s
tail. Takes me ter git at things. I’ve seen
ghosts, goblins, spooks, assassins, robbers, out-
laws an pirates!” . ‘

Robert kicked his inoffensive cap with such
vigor that it flew across the room, almost hitting
Mr. Stumps’s nose in the passag

9.
“Yes- an’ I’ve hived the Angelo’ the Docks

with Hilga Ermstroif, Esquire!” he added, as he

  

 

v . s,
 serum xix-re » v

 

The Stre

3.95,

>uv- .. a. x. . . ‘5. «. .

v

et Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

I PM,“ 

 

 

,flun one of his shees at a lone cat which had
tri to enter the room.

Young Mr. Blossom was excited, and it took
his‘companions several moments to get him 1
down to facts, but the story of his adventures
' finally was told.

Fresh surprise, perplexity, doubts and ques-
tions followed, but out of the muddle one fact
presented itself vividly: . '

The Angel of the Docks ought to be seen per-
sonally.

“ I’ll go early in the morning,” Jim declared.

The three detectives discussed the matter in
all its bearings before retiring, and that meant
that they were not early in bed. W hen they re-
tired it was not easy to go to sleep. The solu-
tion of the mystery seemed almost in their grasp,
yet it eluded them most vexz‘iiiously.

  
  
  
  
  
   
    
     
       
      
        
        
        
       
          
            
       
    
     
  

 

Jim rung the bell of No. —— Delancey street.
The forenoon sun was shining on the house-to s
of Gotham, but the detective had called as ear y
as he thought prudent. Gothamites are not
early risers, and the particular members of the
great city’s family ould not like to be called
up out of bed. I

The door was Opened by a lady whom the
caller easily recognizod as the same Bobby had
seen when, as the bogus messen er-boy, he had
tried to deliver the note sent by ainbridge.

Jim bowed politely.

“ Is Hilga Ermstroff in?” .

“ I think so,” was the reply. '

“ I would like to see her, if you please.”

. “I doubt if’she will see you, or allow you to ,
see her, but I will take your name, if you wish.”

“ Why should she refuse to see me?”

'- “ She has declared that she would see no one,

 

and has ept her word on the sole occasion when
a caller as come.” 5
“ Why is that?” v

“ I don’t know; she is peculiar.”

"‘ Well, please take my name, and I’ll try my
luck ;” and Jim presented a card which, however l
did not bear his own name. l

The landlady went to deliver it. .

Jim waited impatiently, but his frame of mind
was net improved when he caught sight of fir

 face on her return. The anSWer was there, as

well as in the words which followed. ,

“ She'declines to see you.”

“Why?”

“She gives no reason, but declines, as she
alwggs has done in the past when any one|
call .

“Is there any other young lady who stops
’ here?” ‘ '

H No.”

During this interview the landlady’s face
had borne a doubtful, uncertain expression which
Jim 33w and tried to anal ze. He did not
believ she understood Hilga rmstroif, herself

, , and grew hopeful of getting some account 0

‘ - . that mysterious person. . -

' , “ Madam, will on allow me to ask you sdme-
thing about Miss rmstroff?”
“What do you want to know?” .

. “When she came here, who she is, and, in

brief, what you know about her.” ‘

“ Are you her frien ?”
“ Emphatically, I a .”

3 “Then come into the parlor and you shall
bear the etc . I am reatly puzzled OVer her,
and would ll ethe adrice ofione of her friends.

‘ . I don’t know whammy duty is in. the case.

“ It is on] seven or eight days,” the speaker
went on, W ‘3: seated in the parlor, “ since a
carriage dip up here and two ladies alighted.

», A young girl who sometimes works here for me

. admitted them, and was called to seethem in
this very room. ~ ‘

“As an introduction they presented a note,

dated at Calcutta. India, and written by a

gentleman who hada furnished room here,
when in New York. He went to India only a

' fewmonths ago. ~ _ g ‘

g ,_ “ The note was an Introduction of the two
byladies. and a recommendation of them: and "it
 wound up by same that the. 'ter the ‘ht I

" f . ld find them very desirable ts, no one I

  

.6

  

  
  

' ‘ filled my room. I had not, and 1 let it to
them at once.” ‘ a
' “.Yon speak of two ladies,” interrupted Jim.

‘9‘ ‘.‘ Who was the second?” _

" K“ Her name was Lenore Bellainei” j, r

. Little did thy ker suspect how forcibly
that apparently simp 6 statement fell on -Jim 3
ears. t was no more thanrhe expicted, but”
nevertheless, it was a striking rave
Minoved on another step. .
“She was the mistress, and Edge Emistroif.

 

 
 
   

  

   
  

tion. H's ;

 

 

 maid,” pursued the narrator, “ but their
Yolatio as  "maid were only nomi-
‘  tbs! friends, and j

 
 
 
   

, warm

f

  

l

 

Hilga received a salary only because she was

poor. Miss Bellaire was anxious to keep her
friend with her, and it was done in that way.
“Miss Bellaire wasa person who 3 wed in—

: timate acquaintance with the world. / Her man-

ner was modest, but there was a quiet decision
in all she said and did which told that she had
battled with the world until she felt fully
capable of caring for herself. Hilga hardly
spoke at all.

“The only condition they made Which was
not to my liking was that their meals should be
served in their ibom, but as that was not going
to make so very much trouble, I took them in.
This was late in the afternoon of the day they
arrived, and their baggage was was not brought
until the next morning.

“On that day they did not go out, but, in the
afternoon, Miss Bellaire came down and asked
if I had any camphor. Hilga was ill, being
very nervous, and afflicted with a painful head-
ache, I did not see her.

“Supper was carried to them asusuul, and
then I went out to make a call. It was late
when I returned. The next morning, when I
saw my young servant, she informed me that
they had had a caller the previous evening.

“ The servant took up their breakfast, but all
her knocking at the door failed to bring any an-
swer. After waiting awhile I went up r-
sonally, but did not get any notice until \I eft
giilf rapping, and called out to know if they'were
i

“ Then, after a pause, the door was unlocked.
Hilga Ermstmfl‘ was standing there, but she
only looked at me in a blank way. I asked her
some commonplace question, and she answered
direct] enoug , but in a machinedike way that
Show me something was wrong. Yet, she
said she was not ill. '

“I asked where her friend was, and she said
she was not there. Having good 0 portunity I,
pushed- buck the door, and saw t t she had
spoken the rriiih,

“ Lenore Brlluii-e was not in the room 1"

 

’ CHAPTER X.
THE WRONG MAN.

EAGERLY Jim Royal asked:

“ Where was she?”

“ That is just what I don’t know,” the land-
lady replied. “Lenore'Bellaire was not in the
roam, and the ‘fact' that one of the pillows was
unrumpled Indicated that the bed had only one
occuXant during the night.

“ gain I asked: ‘

“ ‘ Where is your friend?’
“ ‘ 0h! she went away, last night,’ Hilga re-
plied carelessly. ‘

“ ‘ ’Whe’re?’ asked.

“ ‘ I dbn’t know.’ ,.

“ ‘ When will she return?’

“ ‘ I don’t know.” ‘

“ Like words from a machine were Hilga’s an—
swers, and I saw that the bright, intelligent ex-

on of her face had gWen place to one
vaciant and dull. I She was not like the same

r - I l '

“ Are you sure it was the same
J im demanded, quickly. -

“Oh! yes; I could swear to that. There is
no myster about Hilga, except the fact that
she liveseli e a hermit. The two girls were no
more alike than black and white. The uestion
is: What became of Lenore Bellaire? waited
for her to came back, but she came not. Hours
and do. 8 . and there was no sign of her.

If I h known of any relatives I should have
notified them, but Idid not. It is very strange.
From the time she left the house she seemed to
vanish from human view. She went but where?
With whom? 0n,what errand! All these ques-
tions I have puzzled over, for Hilga"will tell
nothing, but I am still in the dark. I hope no
harm has come to Miss Lahore!”

If Jim had spoken his mind he would have
told her that, in his opinion, the hope was vain.
, The still form in the bay told its own story.

'- “ HOW do you account for Hilga'r’s odd ways?”
he asked. l, ‘

“ Another puzzle: She is calm, and quiet—-
melancholy, a trident times, perhaps, but never
seriously disturbed—and seems to feel'no con-
cern for the mistress and friend who was so
kind to her. When verI question‘ her she-res
peat-that Lenore hi?- gone out, but will soon re-
turn; iThat’sall I can get from her.” .

:3 Does she often go outs herself?” 
',“Y§Ei".'  :‘ . .

\ “ She never-goes out!” i i ,' l
. j ere was anothersui so. for him. He had
decided that ‘Hilga must .be' the Angel of the

\s,

. 4

l \
girl i” Spotter

3
,

   

f Docks, but this statement did not help his theory.
l on. v
' “ Does she receive any young lady visitor?”

  

“ No. She will see no one, and has not been
. out of her room in a. week.”

“ gen have no other young lady here?”

‘( 0.77

“You don‘t have any such person visit here ,,
at night?” ' .1"

“ 0h! no. Why do you ask?” “

“You don’t know of a young woman who is
fond of prowling around the water-front at
night’ so much so that she is called the Angel of
the Docks?”

“ Most certainly not.”

“ Madam, I am anxious to see Hilga and if it
will not be too much trouble to you, ’c like to
have you take a message to her in these words:
A friend of Lenore Bellaire is here and wishes
to see her.”

“ I’ll try it, but doubt if it will do any good.”

The landlady went up-stairs, but soon re—
turned.

“Hilga says she will not seeyou and if you
try to force your way in, she will 3 oot you!”

‘ The lady can keep her revolver where it be- , .‘
longs; I am not going to resort to such an ex— 1 .
treme measure,” Jim answered, quietly.

The landlady, like the executor, was anxious
to know the meaning of the inquiry, but Jim
managed to avoid revelations and, at the same
time, avoid giving offense. He soon left the
house, and went, too, in a greatly puzzled frame
of mind.

What was the mystery surrounding Hilgal 1;

It seemed plain enough that the unknown per- ‘
sou,‘or persons, who had called the night when
the landlady was out were the same who had
lured one of the girls away, but why did the
other remain under such mysterious circnm— 
stances? If friendly to the missing girl, _why i l f?
did she not give an alarm? If hostile, why did 
she remain at the place from which her late
companion was lured, daring arrest?

Returning to Stumps and Bobby he made his
aeport, and the these grappled with the new rid-

es.

 awe?»  ,.

Long and earnest was the discussion, though
all were agreed on the point that it was Lenore
Bellaire’s body that had been found in the bay;
that she had been foully dealt with by her ene-
mies; and that, in all probability, these enemies
were Captain Cheney Bellaire, Dean Wain-
bridge, and the active agents they had hired.’

Stumps advised that all these facts be put in
the bands of the police, but Bobby Blossom.
oppoised the plan strenuously, and Jim more
mild y. V

Both wanted the full credit of exposing the
evil-doors. . , ,

“Our next, step is clear,” added Jim. “We
cannot afford to ignore the conduct of Barney
McCurdy and Ira Ricketts. While these notions ‘
and words may be no more than coincidents in ,
the drama,‘they fit in well enough to be worthy
of investigation.” Y r

“You’d hev thou ht so ef you’d heard them
on the pier,” Bob y exclaimed. “Ira was
scared an’ remorseful. an’ be talked in husky .
whispers of a crime they’d done there, an’ said ' ‘
he wondered the gal didn’t rise up out o’ the
water an’ accuse them; an’ then when the

o

 

est run as ef
from their

6nd doubt they have done harm, 'tosome . .

girl. he question is, are we too sanguine in -_ -

easements... - - 
“ t183mm; it'was t t poor child,” Stump ads, ,

mit . .
“ Then We must find Ira Ricketts. He is the

man to work on, for his conscience and fears are.

active.”

8 “But d2
tum as - _ , 
“T t is where the trouble comes in. 

only clewis that, when I was on the street at“

certain point, Ricketts was there and addressed

me. Of course he may have been any number; v’

of miles from home, but the fact that the .

second man who told me Ricketts’s 

“knew him, indicateS that both lived nearfat .

'hand. ' Ricketts’s name is not in the Bigotosy,

title‘tt’tfihi‘ififii‘ig m r W! i. m ~ 
“ I think your plan ’ll work.” _ _.
::RC;n’tIdoit?’ fugibvagad, I 

bert, on w n w 5 seems
magma {temon’t do; ‘yon know yon'udi-‘lo

I _ “ I cave!” the junior Spotter #095“?

z * . ~ ' i

Angel 0’ the Docks appeared they
a ghost was yankin’ the tails 0

coats l”
U

    
       
       
      
    
      
    

(r

,dd

e(£011 know where to find   ;

  
     
      
   
 

  
 
   
 
 

       
      
      
    
   
  
   

   

  
 
 

  
   

 

v»—_.. ~A.. v _...~.v *7”.— ~.-—- may. .1- W-w «an, : 7W .i-w A -

10

 

away on his errand, and he saw that he would
have to do some hustling to finish before dark.
He went to where Ira bad accostei him, but, on
this occasion, he saw no wild-eyed man skulking
in a doorway. For awhile he watched the peo-
ple, pedestrains and corner-loafers, and then ap-
preached one of the latter.

“ Sport, do you live around here?” he asked.

The rough-looking youth favored Jim with a
long stare.

“ Mebbyl Why?" he asked.

“ l’in‘ looking for a man named Ira. Ricketts.”

“ Et ain’t me.”

“ Do you know of him?”

U Naw I"

“ Or Barney McCurdy?”

‘( N aw !”

“I thought perhaps you did.”

“Say, cully, w’ot d’ye tuk- me fer, a Direc-
tory ?” demanded the “tough” youth. “I don’t
keep no hotel register fer blokes tr-r write their
names in. See? De biggest part 0’ my job is ter
mind me own business, an’ dat’s w’ot I like ter
see any man do. Dat’s de way ter get along in
dis world. See? No offense, old man; I’d like
ter tell you’s where do duffer lives, but I don’t
know. Mebbe he’s over ter de Island. See?
Well, so-longl”

The tough youth sauntered away, but left no
especially unpleasant impression behind. He
had talked like the class he represented, but not
offensively, if he had been blunt.

Jim was not to be discouraged, and he asked
other persons, men and women, ab int 11‘]. Rick-
etts, but found no one who could tell of him; at
least, so they said.

Time passed in this way until the detective
began to feel like giving it up, but be was final-
ly approached by a boy of about ten years who
asked:

“ Say, boss, is you do chap w’ot is lookin’ fer
Ira Ricketts?”

“ Yes,” Jim answered.

“ Me big brudder says he’s de chap as is known
as Old Jerks, ’cause he’s so nervous.”

“ Who’s your brother, an vhow?”

“ Oh! you asked him, a bit ago, but he didn’t
know Old Jerks’s reel name, first off, but some-
body told him w’en he had went away, an’ be
sent me ter toll you’s, boss; an’ I will tell you’s
ef'you’ll give me ten cents. Say, will you’s do

Jim had no disposition to refuse. The money
was paid over, and the boy became guide. Two
blocks away too latter turned into an alloy.

“ Old Jerks lives in yere wid Mother _Meg,” he
explained. “ He’s an old bacheldoor an’ ain’t
got no vs ife, Old Jerks is.”

The young citizen seemed to be well up in local
family history, and be marched along rapidly.
The alley was narrow and dark, but they soon
reached a court that was even worse to look at.
Poverty and decay had a place there, and
brooms and water had evi lently been crowded
to the rear. 1

“ We’ll go right in, fer Mother Meg never ob-
jscks. Then I’ll call her, an’ she can take you’s
gieecharge an’ run you’s up, ter see Old Jerks.

3

Jim saw, or thought he did, and sat down in

_ the front room, to which the boy conducted him.

Then the latter went out, but there was only a

brief delay. A man entered, and, looking up,

the caller saw With surprise that it was Delno
Wainbridge.

The sport was very calm, and he carelessly
brushed a spot of dust off from his coat.

“ I am told that you want to see Ira Ricketts,”
he remarked, calmly. “ Won’t I do just as
well?”

“ Don’t know that I have business with you,”
Jim returned, as quietly as possible.

“ No? ell, I have business with you I”

The sport’s lips parted in a smile ominous and
menacing. ‘

 

CHAPTER XI.

THE DRAWN REVOLVER.

JIM was by no means pleased to see Wain-
bridge, and he would have been dull not to fore-
see danger, but he met the sport’s gazs calmly
“931363611 Ira’s friend?” >

“Never mind. You and I are running this
airlift?”

ce

“ When, and where, was that?”

“Don’t lay the innOCent. I know you well,
my man. %011 are called Jim, and aspire to work
as a private detective. That means that you
start out in life early as a blackmailer. You are

I think I saw yOu when I called on the

not twenty-one, I judge. Too oung to get your
nit by squeezing money out 0 others.” ‘

 

«my» u, L . v

W-

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

 

There was something suggestive in Delno’s
manner, as well as in his words, and Jim sus-
pected that it was a covert invitation to him to
act the blackmailer; in other words, that Bell-
aire and Wainbridge had got trace of the move-
ment against them, and were ready to pay the
Spotter Trio for keeping their mouths shut.

“ How have you got such an opinion of me?”
he asked.

“ Isn’t it correct?”

H No.”

“ Then why are you prowling around, inquir-
ing into other men’s business?”

“ Have I done this?”

it Yes.”

“ I don’t admit it. We are now talking at
random, sir. If you have anything of import-
once to say to me, be so good as to come to the
point, at once.”

“ I will. I am aware that you are acting the
spy on myself and certain of my friends. Your
latest move, in hunting for Ricketts, is only one
of a series of movements made by you and a cer-
tain Stumps, which have come to my attention.”

“ What is there between you and Ricketts’l”

The sport waved his band, as if thusto an-
swer the question, and calmly proceeded:

“ I don’t like to have any one bounding me. A
fellow may be as innocent as a Moses or an
Aaron, but it don’t lotlk well to be dogged. Out-
siders are liable to notice it and comment. My
record is clear, but my friends would badger the
life out of me if they knew of it; why, it might
do me harm in business!” ,

Mr. Wainbridge looked the picture of an inno-
cent and wronged man as he spoke.

What do you want?” Jim asked, quietly. \

. “Protection! Of courselife here in New York
is all a game of see-saw, in which the police al-
ways get the best of it. You are only an ama-
teur, but your pocket has a vaCuum. in brief,
what will you require to make a tour of Europe
and—keep your mouth shut?”

“ On what subject?”

Again the sport smiled blandly.

“ Everything.”

“ My good sir, Iam all at sea: I don’t know
whgt you are talking about. Will you enlighten
me.

“ No more than I have.”

“ Then I don’t see how we can trade.
know what you are driving at.”

Jim was shrewd enough to suspect that the
sport was trying to make him betray the ex-
act pxtent of his information, but he was not
foolish enough to fall into the trap. He did not
believe, either, that Wainbridge was sincere in
offering himself as a victim of blackmail. It
appeared veryr foolish for him to propose it, and
thereby admit that be bad a. guilty secret to
coucoe I, and as he was not by any means a fool,
the situation gave rise to the suspicion that the
detective had been trapped, and that Deliio
thought escape so nearly impossible that he could
afford to talk plainly.

The sport leaned forward and flvniled.

:: gut you want to see Ricketts?”

‘c ‘Vvhyrjp

“ I will explain when I see him.”

“ You want to pump him.”

“ Why should I?”

“ Tha=;’s it; why?”

“ My errand of the simplest kind. If you
know where he is I should be glad to see him.”

“ N o doubt. I’erhaps I can help you out.
You want to see him, but he is not receiving vis-
itors to-day. I’ll attend to you, instead. Boy,
you are a spy and a sneak. Non are meddlin
with what don’t concern you, and with the usua
result; you’ve got into trouble!”

“ In what way?” .

“Ira Ricketts don’t live here, but by inquir-
ing for him you advertised yourSelf just where
I heard of you. It was I who sent. the boy; he
lured you here, and here iyou are. Where
Ricketts is I don’t knOW. It don’t matter; you
and I are running this business.”

Calmly the speaker drew a revolver from
his pocket and laid it on his knee.

“ Yes, we are doing this business!” he added.

“It is time for you to go further with your
explanation,” declared Jim, sharply. “You say
you decoyed me here, and now you draw a re-
volver. What next?”

“ Briefly, this: You are my prisoner!”

“ I have not surrendered yet, and don’t intend
to. A course of intimidation will not Work
with me. Not having any business with you, I
will retire. I warn you not to molest me. ’

The detective rose. and met with another un-
pleasant surprise. Between him and the door
stood a burl rufllan; a man who, in fact, was
Barney Mc urdy. The rough was grinning in

I don’t

 

that style peculiar to one of his class who feels
that be has a dead sure thin .

“Take it easy,” advised ainbridge. “ You
see you can’t go, and may as well make the best
of it. In a fight I will turn my assistant in
against any man I know; you would be. a child
in his hands. As to gone, you may have one,
but before you could draw it I would shoot you
down. Accept your fate and yield tamoly;
your spying days are over. We‘are not going
to do you bodily harm, but our prisoner you are
and shall remain. See?”

There was no use of _ making more words, and
Jim realiZed it fully.

His work in the Bellaire case was known in
whole or part, and the fight was on.

He decided to make the fight warm.

To pass McCurdy was simply out of the ques—
tion, and he took the only other course open to
him. \Vainbridge’s revolver was not hearing
u n him, and then, if ever, was his chance.

ith long, quick steps he made for the second
door of the room, one which led to the interior
of the house.

“ Stop!” Delno shouted.

The order was not heeded.

Jim reached and passed the door, but found
himself in a dark, narrow hall or passage. First.
of all he fell over a chair. This article broke
audibly, and Jim was not sure but he was in the
same fix; certainly, he was very much jarred
and shaken up.

He rose and tried to 0 on, but it was running
the gantlet under di culties. There was an
abundance of rubbish in the way, and he had no
1' ht to show which was the proper way to go.

ainbridge and McCurdy were hastening
after him, the former threatening to shoot.

The fugitive found a door and opened it. Her

ssed the threshold and would have hurried-on,

ut found a wall of wood on every side. He had
entered a closet. _ '

Alarmed at this state of affairs he turned back
as soon as was possible, but stopped short at the
door. The pursuers were at hand, and he could
go no further.

Quickly he pushed the door nearly to,
then awaited the next turn of events.

“ Whar is he?” McCurdy asked. “ I don’t see
him,

“ Do you expect to see in the dark, on fool 14"
Dean retorted. “ Stop and listen! e must be
near; he can’t get out of here. Listen!”

There was a short silence, but Jim did not help
them to solve the mystery of his hiding-place.

“ The reptyle may hit us a smash in the jaw,
first we know,” finally growled McCurdy.

“ You idiot! do you think he would dare this
revolvch i would ask nothing more favorable
than a chance to shoot him. Let him furnish
the excuse, and I’ll do it in a twinkling. But he
won’t. To hide is his game. Come out, you!”

The last words were in an elevated tone, but
Jim did not “ come out.” .

“ You u re only deferring your capture,” “Iain—
bridge pursued. “ You can’t escape, and
folly to act like this. We are bound to have
you. Will you surrender?”

He received no reply. I

“ Bah! this is childish but we’ll make him
swoat for it, presenth McCurdy, remain here
while I go for a light.”

“ No, no: I’ll help you git it.”

“ You’re afraid.”

“ Right, I be! I won’t stay in the dark an’ let
him smash me in the head with a club. Not
much!” .

The prudent rough retreated with his leader,
but Jim’s position was not improved. The Con-
fldence of the men confirmed the Opinion hl‘ had
himself formed, that there was no outl t from
the passage; and as Barney paused by the door,
he could not retreat as he had come in. _ It was
a mOSt annoying and dangerous predicament,
but he proceeded to make the best of it.

The closet was of medium size, but onsbalf
was somewhat littered up by short boards that
were leaned against the wall. Ewdently, they
had once formed a dry-goods case, and had been
knocked to pieces.

Jim took two of these and used thch to
secure the door as well as possxble. By putting
one end against the door and thepther against
the opposite wall be had a barrier not easin
overcome. Anotha‘ board he found about the
right 3'23 and shape for a club, and for that pur-
pose he retained it. It might yet be useful, and
he was determined not to surrender tamelv.

and

it’s ‘

 

b

The men returned, and it did nor. take Wain- ,

‘bri ion to decide where the fugitives was.
Hedtgified grid shook the door, and then called

out: .
“Hallo, in there!”
Jim remain' ed sflent.

 

r

but they were a little too late.

 

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

l

11

 

 

“ Come out!”

Still no answer.

“Say, you, perhaps you think all this is fun
for us but it isn’t. Why will you be such a
fool? You've got to surrender, anyhow; why
not do it at once, and get the benefit of our
good will? You'll have to suffer, if you worry
.8 .

Not a word came in reply.

“ Confouud you!” the sport cried, “ come out
of there, or I’ll put a bullet through the panel of
the door 1”

CHAPTER XII.
rm: TROUBLE IN ran: CLOSET.

THE threat was alarming. A bullet would
easily pass through the thin panel, and have
force enough left to deal a fatal wound, perhaps,
to any one beyond.

“ Jest let me put my shoulder ag’in’ it,”
McCurdy requested. “ I kin flop that boy away
from it like a muskeeter, let him brace ever
so hard. Kids of his age ain’t got the muslzle
that lays in my arms and shoulders.”

“ Go ahead 1” Wainbridge directed.

McCurdy went ahead. He put his heavy
shoulder against the door, and, grinni gin an~
ticipation of his triumph, essayed to open the
barrier with a s10w and steady high. The smile
changed before the door did. he latter stood
firm, but, as the rough struggled, his face grew
red and angry.

“Are you going in, Mac?” Delno asked, sar-
oastically.

“ Cuss it! that feller must be acorker!” growl-
ed Mac.

“ Where is your boasted strength?”

“ Here it is l”

Barney stepped back and flung himself heavily
against the door, but withoutsuceess.

“ Let up!” the sport directed. “In some way
he has made the door fast. A murrain on the
bungler who deformed nature and custom
enough to make the thing open inwardly. Say,
inside, there! I am going to open on you right
away, unless you surrender. t is for you to
say whether you will part with your liberty or
life. Unless you open the door and surrender I
shall begin to shOot. How is it—will you sur-
render, or shall I blaze away?”

Ominous enough the threat sounded, but Jim
was not sure that Wainbridge intended to keep
it. Remote as they were from the street, and
penned up within a home, it was by no means
certain that he would dare to fire.

If the shot was heard it might lead to an in-
vestigatiOn which, certainly, he would not like

to meet. ,

In this lull on his part Jim had not been idle.
He did not like the idea of remaining like a rat
in a trap to meet whatever fate his enemies saw
fit to allot him, and he had early Considered the
question, could he get out of the closet?

Owing to the age of the house the boards were
warped and loose in places, but he had tried
them at the sides in vain. It seemed out of the
question to move them.

Only one way remained. The ceiling, like the
walls were‘of unplastered boards, and he next
investigated there. As in the former case, he
found the boards to be loose, but when he tried
to ull, ash, or slip them out, he met with ill-
luc . e was still working quietly, and stand-
ing on one of the boards he had used to brace
the door, when a period of silence outside was
rudely broken. '

There was a tremendous shock, one of the
door-panels came in, and after it came an ax.

Had the blow been delivered a little higher the
ax would have struck J im’s legs. As it was the
board used as a brace received the shock and
was knocked out of place; and Jim, suddenly
deprived of his support, fell over and broke the

second prop in two.

The door flew open, and the men rushed in.

As quickly as possible Spotter Jim regained
his feet. If the enemy had used due diligence
they could have taken him before he did this,
Barney McCurdy
sprung forward, his huge fist raised for a blow,
but J 1m was thoroughly on the aggressive.

He struck out hard and skillfully, and Barney
went over in a heap, in one corner.

Wainbridge then filled the breach and skill- '

fully parricd the same kind of a compliment
that had felled his follOWer. Blows were ex-
changed rapidly, and it became evident that
bbth contestants were well up in the art of box-

in .
Ichurdy rose with his hands clasped over one

eye.
“ Give it tohim l" the rough roared. “ Knock
the.lop-jawed young fiend inter fragments! Sail

 

inter hiinl ’Twas a cowardly blow he give me;
I wa’n’t lookin’. Climb all over him, Del! Why
don’t ye go in? Why don’t ye do him up?”

There was good reason why Wainhridge re~
frained from giving the decisive stroke, and that
was that he could not. He was trying his best,
but found it impossible to pass Jim’s scientific
guard, while, on the other hand, he already had
receiVed several stinging blows.

f‘Goin!” repeated Barney, furiously. “ Why
don’t you go in? Smash him! Smash— Ohl
Oufch I”

A clean under-cut had cal ht Delno 03 his
guard, and over he went. If cCurdy had not
been in the way'some one would have been left
to carry on business, but he was in the way—the
sport’s head struck Mr. McCurdy full in the
stomach, and, barely leaving time for an ejacu-
lation of pain, he again toppled over in the cor-
ner, this time with Delno on top of him.

“ Howly Peter!” he groaned.

But Jim waited to hear no more. Energetic
action, coupled with rare good luck, had opened
the way of retreat and he did not fail to take
advantage of it. He ran out of the closet and
along the passage.

Would any one be in the main room to oppose
his departure?

It brought a feelingI of great relief when,
reaching that point, e found the m3 clear,
and he hastened out of the house. 6 could
hear shouts behind him which indicated that
the enemy were again active, and be best no time
in making for the alley.

A few seconds later he was on the street—safe!

For a moment he was tempted to calla police-
man and ask that his late assailants be arrested,
but desire to have all the glory of the Bellaire
case rest where it certainly belonged, with the
Spotter Trio, led him to resist the temptation.

Although the fight against Wainbridge and
his tools was no longer: secret fight, Jim be-
lieved he was fully able to hold his own end up.

He went some distance away from the alley
and waited to see if Delno and Barney would
come out, but they evidently had got enough of
it: they did not put in an appearance.

VViiling to let matters rest, Jim walked away.
‘ When he reached his room neither Stumps
nor Bobby was there, but he found a note which
proved to be from the landlady of the Delance
street house. It read, in its main part, as to -
lows:

“A gentleman has ust called here to see Miss
Lenore Bellaire: said 0 came on the same vessel
with her from Calcutta. I had to tell him Miss
Bellaire had gone away. but that H’lua Ermstroff
was in. I took his c-ird up. It was the same old
story; Hilga would not see him. He went away
puzzled and. I am sure, chagrined. but was amiable
enough to leave his name and address to give Miss
Bellaire if she came back. It is M. D. Raynor,
Grand Central Hotel. I ex lained no'hing t ) him,
but it seems to me it would 0 worth your while to
call on on him, if he came over from India with the
ladies.

“Sure!” Jim declared, as he read the last
words, and, after a glance at the clock, he hast-
ened to the hotel.

He found Mr. Raynor in, and proceeded to
business at once. ,

“ I am told that on called on Miss Bellaire?”

‘_‘ I did,” the gent eman agreed, with some sur-

prise.

“ Did you know her well, on shipboard ?”

“ We were quite friendly, havmg been intro-
duced before we left Calcutta.”

“ Did the refusal to see you, to-day surprise
you?”

“It was not on Miss Ermstrofl? I called, and I
care nothing for her refusal; we were not the
best of friends during the voyage. But it sur-
prises me that Miss Bellaire left the house with-
out sending me any word, as I was distinctly
invited to call. And I am rather puzzled to
know why she left Hilga Ermstrofl, as she seem-
ed very much attached to her friend.”

“ Has it occurred to you ' that what you
learned to-day may rise to the dignity of a real
mystery?” .

“ I hardly understand.”

“Miss Bellaire has disappeared, not gone
awav.”

“Great heavens!” cried the ex-traveler, “ has
that uncle of hers done her harm i”

“ What uncle? What do you mean?”

“I mean Captain Cheney Bellaire; a man
against whom I warned her. And she had some
doubts herself.” "

“ Mr. Raynor, I am trying to solve the mys-
tery of her disappearance, and would thank you
very much to help me. I am in the dark on one
point. Why did she come toNew York? What
is her history in detail?”

“ I only know what little she revealed, from ,

 

time to time, as we came to New York, but shall
be glad to tell what I kDOW.

“She was the daughter of one Harper Belv
laire, brother to Captain Cheney Bellaire. Both
her parents died when she was agirl. Having
a few hundred dollars, she practically reared
herself in Calcutta.

“Two things she remembered hearing from
her father’s lips: First, that, in his opinion. the
captain was a villain; second, that Lefore Har—

,r left New York he had bought a tract of

estern land in copartnershi with the said
Captain Bellaire, but that, in a probability, the
land was not worth looking after. ,

“ A few months ago Miss Bellaire met in Cal--
cutm a lady who had known Harper Bellaire
well once, and Captain Cheney slightly. She
informed Lenore that her uncle had become a
very rich man, and, barring the little he had
put bv when a Sea-captain, all through land in
the West.

“ This set Lenore to thinking. She got outthe
old deed and read it. It certified that, for a.
small sum, Harper Bellaire had acquired ‘an
undivided half’ of the aforesaid land.

“ Meditation brought about rash action on her

part.

“As I have said, Harper Bellaire died with
the belief that his brother was a villain. I Will
pause here to say that he died on an ocean isl-
and.

“ When Captain Cheney was a sailor he once
put into port and asked Harper, and the latter’s
wife and child-Lenore was then about five
years old, I think—to take a pleasure voyage
with him in the Glideaway.

“ They went, and, in the course of time,
touched at an island supposed to be uninhabited-
They lay there three days. One hot afternr on.
Captain Bellaire pro ed a stroll into the in-
terior. They went; arper and his wife and
child became separated from the rest; a tropical
temfimt came up suddenly.

“ arper saw the ominous black clouds before
the shock came, and, not being well informed as
to how such thingsshould be dealt with, hurried
his wife and child toward the vessel.

“ Finally they emerged from the 'ungle, but
only to see the vessel a mile away, caving the
island with every sail set!”

CHAPTER XIII.
rm: DECOY.

“Tim scoundrel l”

Jim had been listening eagerly, and this em-
phatic exclamation came as he recognized the-
full measure of Captain Bellaire‘s villainy:

Mr. Raynor quietly went on:

“The tempest came and went. The ‘Glide—
away ’ met it on the water; the deserted trio, on
land. None of them ever saw the vessel again;
it did not come back. Had it been lost in the
storm, after putting out to sea as a precaution-
ary measure to keep it from driving on the
land. a wreck?

“Harper Bellaire tried to believe this, but
never sucCeeded. He was 10th to do possible
injustice. but died under the impression that it
was a deliberate desertion. ,

“ The helpless castaways did not starve.
Fruit grew in abundance on the island. and,
after all, it was not uninhabited land. A race
of natives dwelt there, and they proved to be
not only peaceful, but gentle and simple.
Among them the Bellaires lived for years.

“ Finally the father and mother died, and
Lenore, aged about nine, if I remember rightly,
was alone. But, fortunately, for only a few
days. Another Vessel touched there, and she
was taken to Calcutta.

“ She had no one to urge her rights, and, hav-
ing no wish to look up the uncle who was either
dead or a villain, she remained in Calcutta.

“But, as I have before said, when she heard
that the captain was alive, and rich, she made
what proved to be a rash move, I fear. She
wroteto him and inquired about her father’s
share of the Western land. .

“When the proper time came she looked for
aletter. Instead, a man made his appearance
who said he had come from New York at Cap-
tain Bellaire’s bidding.

“He gave verbal messages to Lenore, from
her uncle, to this eflect:

“ The ex-captain was astonished and delighted
to hear that the niece he had for many years
supp0sed dead was alive, and, though the West-
ern land had been closed out at cost, only, ebb
was heir to all he7Ca tain Bellaire—had other;
wise accumulated; a he urged her to come to

New York and gladden his home.
“ Lenore decided to answer the call;

 

 

    

 

12

 

J- new—w .w M , was ,hw -

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

,m'x,‘w-‘..¢w~w . ._ scam-r .  ,4“  _ 5.“... ,7 - ,. u - « v ,. -_ .-

 

 

“ The messenger was to accompany her back
.as a protector, but when the steamer left port
he failed to show up, and was left behind. ,

“ I found Miss Bellaire on shipboard, a charm-
ing youn lady, but in a mood of doubt and dis
trust. ot over-confident at the first,the failure
of the messenger to set out with her raised fears
in her mind—though I fully believe it was a
genuine case of a man having missed his vessel
by accident.

“ All this Lenore told me, a little at a time, as
we came on the long voyage, until I had the
whole story; and her doubts grew so that, hav—
ing the address of the Delancey street house,
which was given her by a friend in Calcutta,
she decided to go there first, rather than venture
recklessly to Captain Bellaire’s residence.

“ I offered her the shelter of my mother’s
home, at Binghamton, but she naturally thought
it too far away to be considered.

“If, as I fear from your manner, harm has
come to her, I deeply regret that I did not insist
upon acting as her protector, here, but business
of urgent nature required my presence in Bing-
lnmton.

“ Tell me, do you thing anything is wrong
with her?”

Jim listened with deep interest to this recital
of the past, and when it was done he believed
there were but few mysteries not explained.

To him it seemed clear that Cheney Bellaire, a
villain at the start, had sold his soul for worldly
gain; that he had lured Lenore to New York
and made way with her.

What need, in the light of such evidence, to
ask if the body found in the bay was that of an
unknown?

Meredith Raynor was anxiously waiting a re-
ply, and Spotter Jim slowly returned:

‘ I do think there isl”

“ What do you think has happened?” Raynor
demanded.

“ The worst, I’m afraid.”

“ Surely, you don’t mean—”

“ Tell me one thing: Did you ever notice,
when coming from Calcutta here, a peculiar ring
on her hand?”

“ She wore a ring which had been her mother’s;
a ring with an odd device, representing two tiny
crossed swords, with five diamonds set therein.”

“ That settles it!”

“ And what of her?”

“ I guess you haven’t read the New York
papers closely.”

“ I have not; I have been too busy.”

“Her story is told there; the last chapter of
her life.” -

Raynor looked startled.

“ Do you mean all that your words seem to
indicate?”

“ Yes. Lenore Bellaire has lost her life, and
I believe it was at the hands of her uncle.”

Jim then told as much of the story as he
thought necessary, and a full discussion fol-
lowed.

“ You are undoubtedly right in all your con-
clusions,” Raynor agreed. “Lenore has fallen
victim to a great conspiracy. I have an idea
that it was not intended she should reach New
York, at the first. Contracted as a ship is, it is
not the worst place to commit crime. Suppose
a person is lost overboard, that’s the last of her.
Or if a would-be murderer failed to get that
chance, he poisons his victim early in the voy-
age. She must be buried at sea, and an elab-
orate post-mortem examination is generally im-
possible. I believe this was the plot in the
present case, but when the agent missed the ves-
sel at Calcutta the battle-ground was transferred
to New York. Then the work was done quickly
and effectual] .”

“ But Hilga? What of her?”

“I don’t knOW.”

“ Why is she a hermit?”

“ I can’t imagine.”

“ I see only one theory.”

“ And that?”

“ Is that she has gone insane. Lenore’s
troubles have had more or less effect on her; I
have a vague idea that she may have been wit-
ness to the violent and of her mistress. Friendly
as the two girls Were, such a thing naturally
would be a great shock. It is not strange she
lost her reason.”

“ And the Angel of the Docks?”

“ Hilga, of course.”

“ But her landlady says she never oes out.”

“ That’s where she is .in error. Hi ga does go
out, and goes to the docks; to that one pier
where Lenore met her fate. Circumstances go
 show that, actin under orders from Ca taiii

ellaire and Wain ridge, McCurdy and ick-
~etta decayed Lenore there, and that Hilga was
along and saw the deed done. Since then Hilga

 

has been eccentric, simply because the shock
was too much for her reason.”

“ Your reasoning is clear. Well, shall I go
and identify the body, formally?”

“Wait until to-morrow. A little delay can
do no harm, and I want to make one more effort
on the Angel of the Docks, to-night. If possi-
ble, I desire to make a clear case of it before di-
vulging to the police what I know already.”

“ That’s natural, and I will co-operate with
you fully.”

Jim soon left the house, but had gone only a
few yards when a tall young man approached.
Nodding affany he inquired:

“ Isn’t your name Jim?”

H Yes.”

“ Thought 50' I’ve seen you before. I know
Stumps well. He wanted me to tell you he’s
around at Painter’s saloon, No. 299 street,
and wants to see you. Know where it is?”

“ No; but the number will direct me.”

“All right; that’s enough. Say, couldn’t we
friends of Stumps make up a subscription to
get him a better false leg than he uses? That
old one looks uncomfortable. Would you sub-
scribe?”

‘4 Yes.”

“All right: I’ll see you again about it. No.
299. Fine weather, ain’t it? So—longl”

The tall youth hurried away as if beset with
driving business, and Jim, whose mind was
wholly upon the his detective case, walked me-
chanically toward No. 299. Suddenly, however-
he stopped short. He was approaching the ob-
jective point, and his thoughts returned to the
present enough to raise the inquiry, If Stumps
wanted tosee him ,and knew where he was, why
didn’t he come there in person, instead of send-
a messenger who, it seemed, had run upon the
wanted person only by chance?

“ Another trap, or I’m no judge!” Jim ex-
claimed. “ It has been started in an airy, off-
hand way, but the eleven hoof shows. Stumps
never sent the message, and is not in the saloon.
The opposition is up and working, and if I went
into that saloon I never should see Stumps in the
land of the living, perhaps. I’ll have a look at
the place, hOW"Vel‘."

He went nearer and saw the saloon, and all of
his doubts received confirmation. It was on the
first floor of an old building, and the whole place
and its surroundings smacked of the typical
U dive.”

Jim decided most emphatically that he would
not keep'the appointment, but while he was’con-
sidering the matter he saw a man approaching
who was no stranger to him. It was a police-
man in citizen’s clothes; a man he had known
for years. He accosted him at once.

“ O’Rourke, I want you to do me a favor. I
have been invited to call at yonder saloon, and
believe that the apparently harmless invitation
hides a trap. Will you go in, instead, and see
who is there?”

“ With pleasure, me boy; but as for the sa-
loon, I know it of old. It is a den of crime.
Who is trying to lure you?”

Jim told enough to satisfy his friend, and the
latter went" in. He returned in a short time
puffing a ci ar, which he threw away as soon as
he reached im.

“ Well?” the latter questioned. ,

“ Curtain lowered next to the rear room; sure
sign of mischief afoot. I sauntered close to it,
and got a secret, brief look inside. Two men
were there. One of them I know; he is a_sport
and bucket-shop keeper. The name be sails un-
der is Delno Wainbridgel”

More direct evidence could not be asked for,
and when Jim left his friend and walked home-
ward, he had cause to congratulate himself on
his caution. The incident, too, showed how ac
tive the enemy were; they were determined to
silence him at all hazards.

Constant danger would menace him until they
were caged.

When he reached home he found, as he had
expected, that Stumps was there, calm and com-

posed.

 

 

CHAPTER XIV.
THE NIGHT OF THE TRAGEDY.

WHILE Jim Royal was making discoveries,
Stumps had not been idle. He had been out on
a general expedition, which included a 00 at
Captain Bellaire’s house. He found that, while
the ex-sailor was not in an aristocratic neighbor-
hood, he had a good home, and seems to be
taking life easy.

Stumps wondered, as he looked at the build«
ing, whence came the money that had pur-
chased it.

He was on his way home when he saw a man
on the street whOse movements were so peculiar

dead-hungry.

 

as to attract his attention. The man was not
hurrying, but he had a secret, skulking air and
seemed to be afraid of some one or something.
lVith attention thus directed to him, Stumps
was impressed with another fact.

The man’s appearance cxactl y agreed with the
descriptions given of Ira Ricketts.

Making a sudden decision, Stumps accosted

him:

“ Hello, Mr. Ricketts!” I

The other pedestrian started and looked fright—
ened, but calmed down at sight of the speaker’s
mild and dignified face.

“.Come over on a bench in the Park,” Stumps
added. “ Le’s hev a talk over old times.”

“ I don’t know you,” was the uncertain reply.

“ No? I think I can recall myself ter yer
mind. Le’s try it, anyhow; no great amount 0’
time will be wasted.”

As his manner continued mild the second man
made no objection, and they were soon on the
bench.

“ You ain’t lookin’ well, Ira,” Stumps pur-
sued.

“I ain’t wal.”

“W’ot’s the matter? You seem nervous, an
all broke up.”

H I be. 7?

It  g”

“ Insomnia.”

“ Can’t sleep, eh? Somethin’ on yer mind, is
there? I hope you ain’t got into trouble by con-
sortin’ with Barney McCurdy an’ Delno Wain-
bridge?"

It was a bold move, but Stumps felt that he
could get at the facts only by frightening his
companion; the latter would hardly be coaxed
into telling criminal secrets to a stran er. That
he had succeeded in causing the frig t was at
once apparent, for Ricketts gazed at him in the
utmost dismay,

“ Ira,” the speaker pursued, “ the best thing
you kin do is ter own right up in this case.
McCurdy is placin’ you in a dangerous position.
You are the least guilty of the whole lot, but of
you hang off an’ wait fer the wholesale arrest,
the law will hold you jest as bad as t’others. On
the other hand, et‘ you tell the facts an’ save the
pnrlcace trouble, I ain’t sure you’ll be prosecuted
at all. Now, you ain’t so bad as them—”

“ I didn’t know anybody was to be harmed l”
Ira broke in, excitedly.

“ Jes’ my idee.”

“ I.never was in a scheme like it afore, an’ ef
I’d ’a’ known how it was ter end, I wouldn’t-’a’
been in that.”

“ J es’ as I suspected. Wal, Ira, you’re foolish
ter let yerself be sacrificed. You ought ter
move while there’s time, tell yer story an’ git
the perleece ter let ye off easy.”

“ I’Vould they do it?”

“ Sure!”

“ I’ll tell you all about it, an’ let you advise
me!”

For several days Ira had been in a most un-
happy frame of mind, and terribly frightened.
He had felt, too, that it would be a blessed relief
to pour out his guilty secret to some one’s ears;
to relieve his mind of the awful burden, and hear
the voice of sympathy. Now, as before, the ini-
pulse was strong within him, and he forgot that
Stumps was an entirestranger. He remembered
only that the latter had spoken encouragingly
and kindly to him, and words were figuratively
tumbling over each other in his mind, in their
eagerness to find exit at the gate—his mouth.

“ I’m mixed up in an awful affair,” be de-
clared.

:: The Bellaire case, you mean?”
1’

“ Tell me all about it, Ira,” Stumps persuasive-
ly requested.

“ I will. It was like this: I was out 0’ work,
ragged, hungry an’ desperate. Barney McCurdy
come ter me an’ said there was a chance ter
make money; that a rich man would pay well at
he could it a certain erson out o’ sight. The
plan was er her ter be ured ter a pier, an’ then
Barney, an" me, an’ Delno Wainbridge was ter
take her in a boat an’ carry her to a prison they
had fixed up over in Williamsburg.

“ At,flrst I said I wouldn’t do it, but a man
ain’t sure w’ot he will, an’ won’t, until he gits

“Barney said Cap’n Cheney Belllaire, who was

back of it all, was rich an wou d see us safe

through. The gal for be kidnapped was Lenore
Bellaire, his niece, who was With a friend, Hilga
Ermstrofl". on Delnncey street.

“ Wal, I yielded an’ agreed ter help. I made
out from their talk that Lenore had lately come
ter town, and advantage was ter be took 0’ the
fact that she knew nothin’ about the city. The
pretense was far be ter hev her go ter her uncle’s

  
      

1
l
l

 

 

\

 

A

house, ter meet the family lawyer, who was ter
draw up papers; but, really, we was for lure her
ter the river, an’ take her awa .

“One night McCurdy an’ I was at a certain
pier an’ there we waited nigh the boat.

“ JVVainbridge was ter be the decoy, au’ bring
her in a cab.

“ They come, at last, an’ she got cut, but when
she see the low, mean street, an’ the docks, an’
the river beyond, she was scared; an’ she re-
belled right off.

“Then Wainbridge put on the screws. He
told her blunt an’ plain that she was a pris’ner,
but that no harm was for be done her, only she
was ter be shut up a while.

“She made a big remonstrance, but it didn’t
do no good. Wainbridge was cool as ice. but his
voice had a ring that scared her all the more
when he cautioned her that of she called for help
or resisted, no pity would be showed her.

“ Finally, she yielded an’ was led out on the
pier, but when she got there an’ see the water
fiowin’ so black, all her nerve went back on her.
Scared more than ever, she tried ter call fer
help, but McCurdy gripped her throat an’ shut
off the cry.

“ ’Twas a cruel thing tor do, fer he was a big,
strong man, an’ she as delicate as gal could

“When she see her life was in danger she said
she would yield, an’ we prepared ter lower her
inter the boat, but she wa’n’t ready ter give up.
Just when we wa’n’t lookiu’ she made a dive for
liberty, an’ she’d got away, too, only she struck
her foot a ’in’ somethin’ au’ tripped.

“She fe l headlong infer the water!

“The awfulness o’ the situation paral zed me,
an’ when Wainbridge ordered me an’ cCurdy
ter git down inter the boat an’ save her, I couldn’t
stir. Wainbridge went, instead.

“ Lenore was not found; we looked long an’
gaeflefully, but it 'wa’n’t no use. She was drown.

“ We give it up an’ made haste ter git away.
I was almost wild with horror an’ fear, an’
Wainbridge an’ McCurdy argued an’ threatened
me both, ter git up my nerve an’ make me say
I’d never give them away.

“ I said it, but what d’ye s’pose the first thing
I did when they left me was?

" Lenore had a latch-key which she dropped
after gettin’ out o’ the cab, an’ I had picked it
up. ’ he hour was late, but I was bound her
friend should know what had happened. I went
for the house, see a light up—stairs au’ decided it
was her room, an’ there she was waitiu’ fer
Lenore tor come back. I didn’t ring, but used
the latch-key, opened the street-door, went up-
stairs an’ knocked. .

“ The door was opened by a slender gal.

“ I asked her ef she was Hilga Ermstrofl‘, an’
she said she was. Then I poured out my story.
Do you know, she listened with a manner as
calm as mine was excited. I thought then, an’
do now, that she wasn’t sorry Lenore was
drownded. She was cool an’ quiet as you please,
but of she hadn’t betrayed her heartless nature,
I’d hev liked her—she was polite an’ meek as
could be.

“ In a business-like way—I never see so odd
a woman, before—she remarked that she’d like
ter see the spot where all this took place, an’
asked me tor guide her there. I agreed, an’ we

went out.
“ Of course I 5’ she’d take a cab. but

’ she said no. an’ I’ll be shot at we didn’t walk all

the way.

“She tripped along by my Side. light ez 9'
fall‘)’, never payiu’ much, an’ then in a quiet,
08,35’ Way Which made a sharp contrast ter me,
with the blood rushin’ like fire through my
veins.

“When we got ter the
whole place over, an’ I ex ned until she knew
as much about it as I d d. She listened to all
closely, but didn’t show no grief ’cause Lenore
was drownded, an’ no feelin’ at all.

“Even then, when I was so wrought up, i
wondered amazin’ at it; sence, I’ve wondered
more than ever.

_“ When she had seen enough I walked home
With her. She bid m9 -night at the door as
easy an’ gentle as possib e jest as of we had been
on a common errand, an’ then went in. But I‘
wa’n’t so cool as her. [went home, an’ m fancy
m up an’ enemy in ev’ry shudder. ear an’
remorse unced on use like vultures, an’ gnawed

ier she looked the

at m Vitals; fear 0’ the law, an’ horror that I
shou d be concerned in such a crime.

“ One might I got an awful scare. I had
dreamed that the dead gal was floatin’ in the
dock, an’ told McCurdy about it, an’ said I’s
afraid it was true. He declared I was a fool, an’
inflated on us goin’ there ter see it was not so. I

 

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

shrunk from goin’, but he was bound it should
be so an’ we went.

“ We had an awful time. As we stood there
Lenore’s ghost riz up out o’ the water and'spoke
to us. McCurdy was as scared as I was, an’ we
run fer our lives, an’ never hev been back.
Think of itl—we see the drownded gal’s ghost!”

Ira looked at Stumps with terror and dismay
expressed in his face.

‘ Did McCurdy say it was a ghost?” Stumps
asked.

“ He thought so, then, but when he had calmed
down, he said it was some other livin’ gal.”

“ Did you see her face?"

“ No; the night was too dark.”

“ Ain’t it ssible it was not Lenore, but Hilga?
You show Hilga the way there—mightn’t she
hev gone ag’in, alone?”

Ira meditated, and then faint hope appeared
in his face.

“ It is jest possible. The ghost was like Hilga,
slight an’ slender, while Lenore was a bit stouter.
But 1 don’t think it; I think ’twas a ghost!” Ira
persisted.

“ Mr. Ricketts, you’ve spoke up like a man an’
let an awful secret off yer mind. Now, instead
0’ goiu’ back ter McCurdy an’ reskin’ voylence
at his hands, why not go with me ter them who’ll
stand by you in this case?”

“ I’ll do it!” Ira. agreed.

 

CHAPTER XV.
WHAT HER racn nin.

IN consequence of the interview between
Stumps and Ricketts, Spotter Jim did not find
the former alone on his return. Ira was there,
and the story he had told to Stumps was repeat-
%d.to the more active member of the Spotter

rio.

‘ Jim fully comprehended the value of the state-
ment. The missing link was found, and it only
remained to order the arrest of Bellaire, Wain-
bridge and McCurdy. ;"

This they decided todo the following morning.
It was somewhat late, then, to get a warrant,
and, besides, Jim had something he wished to do
that evening. If, as seemed to be the case, the
Angel of the Docks was in the habit of going to
he pier every night, he wished to see her.

She might refuse to see him in the Delancey
street house, but would hardly have so much
authority on the pier. Moreover, she had al-
wa s been talkative enough when in that section.

bby Blossom put in an appearance, and, on
learning of the intended expedition, declared
that he was going along.

“ It wouldn’t be proper fer you ter speak ter a
gal you don’t know,” he explained, “but I kin
introduce you, an’ be yer chaperon. ’

The request was not refused, and Jim and
Bobb journeyed to the pier. First of all they
calle upon Pete Tiernan and borrowed a. lantern,
and Mr. Tiernan agreed, tee, to be on the watch
so that if he was wanted he could give his aid.
The Angel might be contrary, unless she was a
genuine angfl, and the good will she felt toward
him would rid e that ulf, they thought.

Bobby concea ed the antern under his jacket,
and they took position where they would not be
discovered readily.

“ I hope, Jeems,” observed Robert, with amis-
chievous turn of fancy, “ you will behave wal on
this occasion. Kinder watch me fer tips, an’ ef
you git stuck, take me of! ter one side an’ ask fer
p’inters. You know I hev been amociatin’ with
this Angel for some time, while you don’t know
no more about angels than you do about the folks
who live in the moon. Angels don’t take ier
you 1”

“ Your success with this one is all Owing to the
fact she never has seen you except in the dark.”
“ My classic phiz goes in all weather, mister.”
“ Especially, that part of it called tongue.”

“Yes, Jeems, but it don’t wag between sech
cast-iron cheeks as some I’ve seen.”

“ The exception should bein a museum.”

“ I’ll try tar get ye a job.”

This good-humored war of words ended asJim
suddenly touched the boy’s arm.

“ Look!” he directed.

From the street came two men who, after
looking around, deliberately concealed them-
selves only a few yards from the two detectives.

“ W’ot’s up?” Bobby asked, in a low voice.

“ I believe it’s lucky we are here.”

“ Why 1”

“Unless I am greatly in error those men are
Delno Wainbridge and Barney McCurdy.”

“Yowlin’ oats!”

“ Their presence here does not mean any
good,” Jim continued, rapid] , “and I think I
see just the evil it foretells. hey are here to see
the Angel of the Docks! Wainbridge’s hard

 

13‘

head has taken no stock in the ghost theory,
and he is here, I sus ct, to see her. Very like.
ly he mistrusts it is ilga, and means to get her
out of the way, so she can’t testify against them
in regard to lost Lenore.”

“ The p’izon skunks don’t count on us, b’gosh l”

“ Bobby, is it possible for you to get to
Tiernan’s house, so as to be sure of his instan-
taneous aid l”

The junior Spotter meditated for a moment.

“ You bet!” he then returned. “ I’ll jest
climb down off the pier, swim down the river a
bit, and then come ’round for Peter’s from the
other side.”

“ Do you want to risk it?”

“ Resk it?” retorted Bobby, indignantly.
“Great singin’ parrots! w’otd’ye take me feri
I’m three quarters fish, an’ the rest walrus.”

“ Go on, Robert; go on!”

Bobby lowered himself to the water, and did
it with such skill that no sound followed. Jim
saw him swim away in the darkness, and then
awaited the critical moment.

Near] half an hour passed, and then he sawa
female gure leave the street and advance along
the pier. He at once noticed the slender form
and light, airy movement mentioned by others

as characteristic of the Angel of the Dooks, and .

felt sure she was on the scene. He noticed, too,
a stir on the part of the ambushed men, and
rightly conjectured they were not less observ-

mg.

They gathered themselves up, and, as she came
nearer, moved quietly out of ambush and ap-
proached her. Jim also moved; he quickly
changed to their l to hiding-place, thus getting
within a few feet the group. Much to his re-
lief, moreover, he saw the dark forms closing in.
from the direction of Tiernan’s house, and knew
his allies would be at hand to support him.

“ Good-evening!” began Wainbridge, blandly.

The Angel of the Docks looked at him calmly.

“ Good-evening,” she returned, in a matter-of—
fact way.

“ Are you looking for any one?”

“ Perhaps,” she replied, showing some reserve.

“ May I ask whom?”

“ I don’t care to say, sir.”

“Did you just come from Delancey street?”

“ Yes, sir.” .

“ Well, I think we know the party you want
to find. We will take you to her, if you wish.”

“ But she was drowned.”

“ Oh! no; that was a false report. She decid—
ed not to come here, and went to the Fifth Ave-
nue Hotel, instead. She is now stopping with
friends in a rivate house, and wishes to see you.
It is only a ew steps from here.”

“I know that is false, for she did come here.
A man brought me here, the same night, and ex-
plained how she was drowned,” the Angel de-
clared, with sudden spirit.

Wainbridge did not have an answer ready.
He and McCurdy had never known of Ira Ric
etts’s not after the tragedy, but the things which
had puzzled them began to assume shape. The
sport was shrewd enough to ask the question,
mentally, Had Ira really brought Hilga there?
He exchanged glances with his confederate. It
was their intention to abduct her, and the neces-
sity became more imperative.

“ My dear lady,” he continued, “ what I ask
is for your good, but I must insist upon it. I.
am an officer of the law, a detective, and must
do my duty. You will have to go with me 1”

He reached out and grasped her arm. but at
that moment there was a sudden and startling
diversion. Darkness abruptly gave place to
light, and the faces of the trio were distinctly
made visible, one to the other. For the first
time,the Angel of the Docks was plainly seen.

To Wainbridge this was the least imfiortant»
part of the interruption; the blaze of 'ght so-
close at hand revealed the fact that they were

interrupted: and this made plain the further.

fact that he might have a fight to attend to.

His hand sought a concealed revolver, but it
was not drawn.

At that juncture Barney McCurdy gave a yell
of terror and fell prostrate, and there he lay in
convulsions, foaming at the mouth and writhing
like an animal in its death-throes.

The fresh interruption was unexpected, and to
Delno‘it was startling. He saw himself deprived
of his ally, and other men were about, and Mc-
Curdy’s appearance was such that the last rem-
nant of the sport’s courage vanished.

Turning, he ran away at full .

“ Lot him go i” exclaimed im ya], finickly;
and with this cue to his associata, he ma 9 haste
to quiet the Angel, soothineg saying: “ Lady,
do not be alarmed; you are With those who are
your friends, and will protect you.”

“ But I am alarmed; terribly alarmed.”

I...

 

  

3

14

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

 

 

She pressed her hands to her fast-throbbing
heart, and gazed only at the writhing rough.

“ Come to the house, and good Mrs. T iernan
shall care for you. Believe me, we are your
friends.”

“Sure, leddy, We’re yours till death,” declared
'Peter Tiernan, fervently. »

The hold he had gained upon her confidence in
previous visits to the pier was of great benefit
now. Quickly she put her hand in his, with
child-like trust

“ Take me away i” she implored.

“ We will follow presently,” Jim added.
on, Peter!” -

The ’longshoreman went with the Angel, while
Jim and Bobby looked again at the now quiet
roug‘i.

“ He fell in a fit,” Jim muttered. “I don’t
understand it.”

“I sneaked Over an’ got the lantern,” added
Bobby, “an’ it was when I uncovered it, and
turned the light on, that he yelped out an’ went
down. The Angel did it!”

“ Sight of her faCe!" the senior detective
amended.

“ Right! James, kin it be she is a real angel
an’ that ’twas that scared him so when he got a
good look at her?”

' “I don’t know. There is more here than I
can grasp. I am puzzled, uncertain. Only one
ghin'g is certain; at sight of her face he fell in' a

t! '

‘6 GO

Bobby Blossom looked in wonder at his com-
panion. He was not quite old enough to realize
how deep a mystery it was to more-thoughtful
Jim Royal.

The latter aroused. He did not intend to let
McCurdy go free, and was not prepared to tell
enough about him to request his arrest, then.
They lifted and carried him into Tiernan’s
house, and there he was securely bound and
stowed away.

Then they joined the others.

Mrs. Tiernan had quieted and composed the
Angel in a measure, but the latter’s mind still
dwelt upon the rough. Spotter Jim would
gladly have left her alone, but he felt the need
of immediate action, and he questioned her in

' the most delicate and gentle way imaginable.

She answered everything, but not once an-
swered satisfactorily. The information that
she did not know was given to almost every
effort to learn anything of value, while her
manner continued as mild and docile as ever.
Jim could arrive at but one conclusion. Some-
thing was wrong with her mind; the past had
beer. so nearly obliterated that it was only a
vague reenllection, and what was recalled was
of no value.

“ She needs help more than we do,” he finally
said, impressively. “She must have a first-
class doctor, and have him at once. I think,
my good friends, you will be willing to let her
stay here?”

‘ Sure. an’ it will be a blessed privilege!”
cried Mrs. Tiernan.

And Peter echoed the reply.

 

While the older members of the part were
giving all their attention to the Angel, obby
Blossom had an idea and accosted thv senior
member of the Spotter Trio.

“ Stumpse ,” he observed, “ I s’ we’ll hev
nothin’ but 8 eepin’ ter do, the rest 0’ the night. ”

“ It wouldn’t be much use ter pursue Wain—
bridge " Stumps decided. “ We don’t know
where he will go, an’ of he kept his legs a—flyin’
as he set out ter do, he’s over in Hoboken afore
now. It won’t pay ter hunt.”

“ What of there 8 no need of it?”

“ Eh?”

“ S’poso D. Wainbrid a should come here?”

f IStumps caught the i on and looked thought-
u .

“Dean sees his little game in danger,” Bobby
added, “ an’ of he‘s got pluck an’ curiosit like
most folks, I think he will perambulate ck.
An’ of he gits the notion that his little game,
aforesaid, is in a bad way, w’ot of he puts on
wat- aintl” '

“ obby, fer a head of its size, ours is a good
one," he of the wooden leg re 1i , approvingly.
“Et would be resky fer us a l ter flier sleep
like clams I guess two on us had tter keep
watch, an' them two must be us.”

. “ Stumpsey you’re a brick. Put it there!
Now, le’s waltz out an’ take position for work.

We want tor be mighty sly.”

They left the house and secured position where
they could watch all that occurred in the vicin-
ity.‘ The more they meditatsd on the point the
more convinced were the

Mwastohoex

that some demon-

 

Bobhy’s eyes Were of the sharpest kind, and he
suddenly touched Stumps’s arm.

“ Look at the skulkerl” he directed.

Stumps looked where the boy’s finger pointed,
and he distinctly saw a man who certainly was
not a atrolman. He was moving along the
street a a furtive manner, and his face was
turned toward Tiernan’s house.

“ The pot is b’ilin’i” Bobby commented.
“ Great gipin’ parrotsl but ain‘t there a prospect
0’ fun? used to: think when Jim Royal was an
actor he was away up in G, but he did wal ter
quit the stage; et ain’t a marker ter this detec-
tive biz. Git outer his jagsl”

The person thus fiippantly referred to now
dodged into a donway, and there was a lull of
several minutes.

“ Pipin’ the house,” Stumps murmured.
“VVal, it’s quiet enough so they will be en-
couraged ter go ahead with their plot. Let ’em
do it, the sooner the better. He’s goin’l”

The spy left his covert and skulked away on
the back-track.

Stumps and Bobby only waited to let him get
out of sight. Then theytquickly re entered the
house and notified Jim oyal of the latest (18-
velopments. It was no surprise to the leader
of the Trio, and arrangements were at once
made for receiving the enemy, if they came, in
what” Bobby termed “ a warm and sociable
way.

Tiernan was added to the defense, and all
armed themselves with clubs.

They had not long to wait. The skulker came
back, and with him were two other men. They
concealed themselves near the house while the

patrolman passed, and then came stealthin for- '

ward. One was recognized as Wainbridge; the
others were doubtless toughs he had picked up
somewhere for the occasion.

After a little investigation they selected a
rear window as a suitab e place for operations,
and the work began. They had an ax, and the
blade of this Was inserted under the lower sash.

They be an an effort to raise the sash.

When t e window§began to show signs of
yielding the door was quickly unlocked, and
Jim and Tiernan stood read to rush out.
Stumps was posted by the win ow, and it was
his part to use a club, there.

Finally the weak fastening gave away. and
one of the housebronkers raised the sash.

“ Now, go slow i” came the caution, in Wain-
bridge’s voice. “We don’t want any distur-
bance. Light the dark-lantern. skull: through
the rooms, see what is there, and .then act ac-
cordingly. Now, Mr. What’s-your-name, go
in

One of the strangers grasped the window-sill,
raised himself, and began to crawl through.

Then something happened!

Down came Stumpa’s club, and the intruder
gave a gasp and dro ped back outside.

This was the signa for the others to act, and
Jim and Tiernan dashed out. They went at the
remaing marauders like a cyclone, and the clubs
began to rise and fall. Every blow told. At
first Wainbridge and his follower, surprised and
dismayed as they were, made an effort to meet
the storm, but the onslaught was too fierce.

Bruised, bewildered and disheartened they
turned and fled.

The victory was won!

CHAPTER XVI.
sumac TO IDENTIFY BER.

THE day was still oung, when, the next fore-
noon, Jim called on eredith Raynor. The lat.
ter reeted him cordially.

“ am glad you have come. I want to see
the drowned girl, and definitely settle the

uestion of whether she was Lenore Bellaire—if

can. So much time has elapsed that identifi-
cation may not be see . The many mistakes
made in other cases which the newspapers have
recorded from time to time show how easy it is
to be mistaken. But in this case I think there
is one means that will not fail.”

“What is that?”

“ Lenore one day showed me a scar on the
side of the fore—finger of her left hand, between
that finger and the next, where no one would be
likely to see it by chance. I rely much on that
scar. Is there anythin new?”

“ Hilga Ermstroff is n our hands.”

“As a prisoner?” .

“Oh! no: as a ward and patient. We have
had a doctor to her. He was confessedly much
pgzzled over the case, but said there was a shock

the nervous system. To meet the troubles of
such acase be last night gave her a powerful
sedative. This morning she is much improved,
:i‘dafgr the first time, reason is at work in her
[I a '

 

“ What did she say?”

“ That she does not know where Lenore is.”

“ But what of her visits to the pier where you
believe Lenore was drowned?”

“ We cannot answer the question, yet. I
think we shall get more from Hilgu, soon, for the
doctor gives the opinion that a few hours more
under quieting drugs, and due nourishment,
will work wonders. I have visited the girl’s
room at Delancey street, but discovered noth-
ing.

By this time Raynor was ready to go out, and
they left the house. During the journey Jim
found confirmation of what he had suspected
before—that his companion felt more than or—
dinary interest in Lenore.

Raynor grow nervous and troubled.

This condition of affairs increased when they
entered the house of death, and the strong young
man was singularly pale when they stood by tho
drowned girl.

Jim watched him closely.

The covering was raised from the still face, .
which was revealed to the would-be identifier.
He st: rted, made as if to turn away, then looked
intently. Surprise, doubt and uncertainty were
pictured in his face. Then came a sudden
change, and he turned quickly to the detective
and exclaimed:

“ It is not Lenore!”

“ Not Lenore?” Jim echoed.

H No.”

“ Are you sure i”

“ Perfectly! This girl had darker hair, a face
wider between the cheek -bones, and more of
masculine-like strength and vitality. I know it
is not Lenore l”

“ Then who is it?”

“I don’t know. So much time has elapsed
that it would be very hard to identify the ace,
but the signs I have mentioned are not to be
disputed.”

‘ The hand i—look for the scar!” .

Raynor obeyed. and then his face grew :
brighter even than before.

“ The scar is not there i” he declared. 1
Jim stood in silence. Had all his work been
done for nothing? Had he worked on a clew i
wholly false? PerhapS' but—he did not believe
it. While Raynor still stood in puzzled atten— l
tion, the Spotter aroused and took his arm. A:
vague idea had been in Jim’s mind. Before, it:
had been too wild to be entertained; now, it want
well worth consideration. r

“ Comel” he directed. “ We want this matterli
settled as soon as possible. By this time it mayv
be posmble. If Lenore is not dead, Hilga known
where she is. We will go to Hilga.” d

“ But is her mental condition such as to random
information possible?”

“The doctor confesses that he does not know"
what has been the matter with her, but says he!
ailment had reached a point where sedativesi
were of vast value. When sedatives were givemi
she improved with singular rapidity. She may
be more improved now. Let us go to her i” 3]

They went. ' a

Mrs. Tiernan was watching the patient with]
the care of a mother, and when the visitors ar-
rivod she carried the message to her. Very soon
she returned with the answer:

“Sure, she says she’ll he might glad tor saw
Mr. Raynor,” the good woman explained. n

“For once,” murmured Meredith, “ I feel alh
interest in Hilga. I never liked her, but if shew
can tell me of Miss Bellaire the Will make ind:
her best friend.” > It

They entered. .

Upon the humble bed lay the Angel of thin
Docks, and any one who had not seen her sincue
she went under medical treatment would havu
been surprised to see how much brighter she
looked, and how intelligence had made gain ii
her expression. .

' But it was not this which caused Mereditl
Raynor to stop short and look in amazement ‘
nor yet this which made his face light up wit!

joy as he exclaimed:

‘ Lenore I" r
The Angel of the Docks put out her hand ands

smiled. to;

f‘ I am glad to see you, Mr. Raynor,” she irn

plied. 3v
“ But I thought—I thou ht—-" “
“ I find I am addres as Hilga Ermstrol“
and perhaps you expected to see her. I am nc“
she, as you see, and I do not know where she it :
As near as I can learn she has disappeared-is
where, I know not.” . or
Jim could not doubt that Lenora Bellaire we“
found. Her own mind was clear, and there wnii
no hesitation in Raynor’s recognition. V101
The young detective did not harry mattemd
and, when the reunited friends had sonar-tar

 

 

The Street Spotters’ Weird Hunt.

15

 

 

for awhile, it was Raynor who asked her to ex-
plain what had happened since he saw her.

“ There is much which I cannot explain,” she
returned, thoughtfully. “ I have been ill, both

hysicaily and mentally, but chiefly the latter.
,. 0 one is so much at loss to understand as I, but
I Will eXplain all I can.

“ When I left you, after our ship reached New
York, liilga and I went at once to Delancey
street. IVe entered upon life there with ade-
ception on our part.

“ I had felt distrust of my uncle, though it
was offset by a feeling that, even if he were so
disposed, he could not harm me in New York.
Hilga always had reassured me, and given the
opinion that Captain Beliaii‘e would be found
honest, but while on shipboard she proposed a
stratageni to me.

“It was this: That when we laiidel we
s‘iould exchange identities; that, for a. few days,
I should become Hilga, and she become Lenore
Beliaire. My one fear was that, if my‘uncle
meant me harm, he would seize the first chance
to imprison me somewhere. lIilga argued that
if he tried this she would be imprisoned, while
1, the real Lenore, would be at liberty to see the
officers of law and builie him.

“ This plan did not suit me, for I would rather
meet danger, myself, than have Hilga put her-
self in peril for me, but she insisted that the
plan be tried, reiterating that neither of us
would be troubled; that my uncle would receive
as kindly. '

o “ At last I yielded, and when we went to De-
lancey street we played our false parts. Hilga
introduced herself to the. landlady as Lenore
Bellaire, and introduced me as Hilga Ernistroif.

“ That night I Was taken ill, so ill that I de-
id sired a doctor' but Hilga insisted that she could

relieve me. We had words on the subject and,
indignant that she should let me suffer, Itried
to rise from the bed, but she ushed me back
forcibly, and gave me another ose of what she
said was medicine furnished by the landlady.

“Then sleep stole over me, and I knew no

mo 6.”
en 'I‘he narrator put her hand to her head and
w frowned thoughtfully.
ve “ All after this is vague,” she went on. “ I
in- have reason to believe I was no longer in my
A right mind. In fact, I know it, for what little I
it remember of the intervening events is only like
ran the dim shape of detached dreams. I have vague

recollections of callers whom I refused to see, I
berknow not why; of night visits to the water-front
.ay which I made for some reason I fail to grasp. I
.wswonder at my own obliviousness to the danger I

dared. But all this period and its events eludes
define when I try to think of it clearly." .

“ And Hilga Ermstroff?” Jim questioned.
low“ How do you account for her disappearance?”
ha “ I don’t know.”

.ves, s Lenore raised her hand and looked at it atten-
veliive
 0‘

'pwr—v

l .
lyhad a ring, one I wore always and deep]
:herished, because it had been my mother’s. t
s gone.- How? Where? Did I lose it in my
vithnental abeiration, or did Hil a—”
ar- She paused, and Jim finish for her, bluntly:
lOOl “Rub you?” .
“ Hilga left me when I was ill, weak and beset
' seevith trouble; I wish to think well of her, but I ask
nyself: Were her motives really friendly when
l alhe suggested that we exchange identities? And I
shaould like to know if Captain Bellaire has seen
a mdil a, or—or any one claiming to be Lenore
lel airel”
Jim and Raynor exchanged glances, but at
E thhat moment Peter Tiernan appeared, to say that
sinmen were outside who wanted tosee the detective.
havc ‘
- sh:
in ii

 

CHAPTER XVII.
SELF-CONDEKNED.

editl
nent ” GRIA!‘ yowlin’ cats! at I ain’t struck a streak
wit! ayvdirt, I’m a pestlferous Ananiasl”
This was the exclamation which greeted S t-
r Jim as he went out. It came from Boggy
iallossom. The latter was there, alert and ex-
ted, while by his side stood Stumps. The
36 renior member of the SPOtter Trio was calm,
3wover.
:2 Have you a clewlzfiogbyf" Jim “lied-
ol Bet ersilk stoc 1115
grim“ We if," somethin’ that ought tar be looked
ibe it immehm’”    I. the
trad—la who found it. an it,“ t“ mm t” “11 “1°

. Dry. Proceed, Robert!”
re wt“Et’s Hi] a
re “ruined. .

nits of all you had laid. ,
at Delano” Weak?“
do’ole; nomad ‘3

Ermstroif’s diary};l 831:2), ex.
“ ' of. inter my ea at in
t kind" 3 there might be tri’ckg
two gals be

attend cape 8".” "mt

veruereg ins

 

there. VVal, we didn’t find nothin’, an’ I give
up the two-gal theory; it’s wrong. But when
the landlady let us search the room, we did strike
’ile wonderful. This here is Hilga’s diary, an’
I’ve picked out a few daily records fer you tor
per-nose. Go in, Jeems. This first one is writ on
the third day out of Calcutta, as Hilga an’
Lenore came this way. Read!”
Jim read:

"Calm and beautiful weather. Oni' good ship

cuts down the distance rapidfy, and we shall so( 1) 

be in New York. And then?
pelted heiress. while I shall lie—what? Just what
I’ve always been: a beggar, beant ful, indolent, am—
bitious. I envy Lenore. Fate is seldom just: it is
never kind to some. What if Lenore should (lie ( ii
the voyagr .9 I should land in New York what I have
just canned to be, a beggar. And without her I
should be l‘riendless. Should 1? Why need it be so?
Captain [iellwire‘s agent missed the vessel at Cal-
cutl'a; he will be seVeral days, at the least, behind
us. In the mean while what could-l not do? Old
Bellaire does not know how Lenore looks. Could I
not go to him, say I was Lenore. get a few thou—
sands in my fair white hands, and skip the towu be—
fore my deceit was known? Would I were Lenore!
I‘Lot bxeing Lenore, would that [could step into her
as oes

“ Now, read thisl” Bobby directed.
Again Jim Royal read.
“Another beautiful day. Nearer yet to New

York. On We go—Lenci-e, the heiress-elect; Hilga,
the beggar! Li norel How [hate iii-r! Why can’t

I be rich? But, it is impossiblel She, poor (001! be-

lieves in me fully. She is shallow; I am deep.
Have my Wits bvcome so dull that I cannot find a
way to supplant her?"

“Try ag’in,” Bobby advised.
The next extract was brief, but to the point:

“My plan takes shape. Having given her a plan-
sible reason. Lenore has agreed that. for her safety
(i), she and I will exchange identities for a few
days after landing. I haVe the mind~destroying
drug given me by the old East Indian at Hydera-
bad. before I rver saw Lenore. “'h. n i give a dose
to Lenore, will it affect her as Myrpoo Ilassa said:
One dosa, wo akness of mind: two, inibccility; three,
deitlh. Let me remember that. Ahl 1 may yet be
no ’

“This one will close it up,” pursued Bobby.
“Some good things come in between, but you
kin read them when you hev more time. This,
you’ll see, is the very last writin’ in the book,
an’ was traced by Hilga at the Delancey street
house. Read, J. Royal, read!”

And James read the last entry:

“The work is done. and well done. Old Myrpoo
Hassa’s drug is all he has claimed for it; Lenore is
helpless. It made her ill bodily ere it affected her
mind, and between her and the landlad l have been
busy. I’ve given her only one (lose. 8 e will fully
recover from it if left alone. Whether I give her a

stageconcll].t or third, dose, will depend on what happens 1

“ o-nightl
means to me!

“I have sent word to Ca tain Bellaire (signing
mYself Lenore lelaire), and ave his answer. This
evening he will Send his friend. Mr. Delno Wain—
bri e, to convey me in a carriage to his house.
She. lgo? Ve y, I shall~as Lenorel Once there
how soon can I gobble a few thousands from the old
captain? _It must be done uickly, for when the
agent amves from India it wi become known that
I am not Lenore. For a while I am safe; Ieven
have on Lenore’s dress and her ring.

“ Victoryl I will get all the cash I can, and then
skip. As or Lenore. her future is not decided. If
I can work the ropes pronerly I’ll let her live to en-
;oy what I can’t purloin, bur—how I’ve alwa s hated
ierl—why couldn‘t I have had money. too --but it
myinterests demand it. she will have to take the
second, or third, dose of tre East Indian’s drug.

“A carriage stops at the door; it is my escort.
Lol I become Lenore. and go to grasp the Bellaire
thousands! Slee on. my mistress; you may, per-
haps, take what can’t et. Yes; the man of the
carriage has asked for iss Bellaire. Igo, to vic-
wry!”

It was the last entry in the book, and when it
was read no questions were necessary. The
diary told its own story:

Hilga Ermstrofl, destitute of honor, and desti-
tute of gratitude tpward the mistress whose
kindness of heart had made her a friend instead
of a servant, had gone topass herself ofl as
Lenore, and had met, not With riches, but with
her fate! ’ _ _

Lured to the East RiVer ier, she had died
there, and it was her body tha had been found
in the bay.

Again Peter Tiernan came to the Spotter
Trio! this time from Barney McCurdy. I

“ Sure, the varmint says he’s a-gom’ tor. the
an’ that he see'd the ghost ave the drownded girl
on the ier. I asked him how he knew, an’ he
tells me was along on the vessel from Cal-
cutta to New York, an’ see Lenore well enough
to be after knowin’ her well by sight, an’ that it

How much, how very much that

Then Lenore will be a 5

 

Ives her ginst he see whin Bobby. turned on the
ight!

The Mment was true as far as Barney’s
knowledge went. He had made the trip to Cal—
outta, with the “agent,” but when the latter
missed the craft on the return, Barney had re-
lapsed into a harmless passenger.

When Hilgn, in trying to escape the gang
after being lured to the pier, met her death,
Barney had not seen her face, and supposed the
real Lenore had been drowned. Hence, when
he saw Lenore as the Angel of the Docks, all his
superstitious fears had come to the front, and
thus it was that he fell in the fit.

But Barney was not dying. A future was be-
fore him.

Meredith Raynor was talking with 'Lenore,
but there was other work to be done by those
who had ferreted out the mystery. Jim hired
a. cab, and, with Bobby fora companion, was
soon on his way to Police Headquarters.

Once there his story was soon told, and
measures taken to get warrants for the arrest of
Wainbridge and Captain Bellaire.

That night they slept, if sleep they did, under
lock and key, guarded by the police.

Lenore’s recovery was rapid. The exact
nature of the drug which Hilga had given her was
not discovered, but Myrpoo Hassa, the old East
Indian, had gauged its effects well. While its
temporary power was strong it left no permanent
harm, and its influence was fast passing away
when the doctor took her in charge.

Memory never brought back the events of
those days of mental darkness but, as regarded
her visits to the water-front, it was clear that,
having once been guided there by Ira Ricketts,
instinct had led her to go accurately on her later
journey. Doubtless she took the very same
route each time.

It was on her first visit, alone, that her cry
had alarmed the Tiernans, and they had found
her in a Swoon. The face in the water she
claimed to have seen that night was doubtles
wholly imaginary, while her erratic talk, in
which she asserted she had. been drowned, her~
self, was only a mental vagary.

As for the motive of her visits to the ier,
no realizing sense of the tragedy descri . by
Ricketts had 9\ or c: the to her, but enough of
an impression had been made to Send her there
each night.

That the landlady did not knew she went out
was not strange, for she left at a somewhat

? late hour, and very quietly, according to her

custom.

'She was able to reco nize the body of the
drowned girl fully as ilga, but the shock of
the tragic end of her oncesupposed friend was
softened by the latter’s own words in the diary,
where she so plainly, relentlessly announced her
purpose to rob, perhaps to murder Lenore.

The foiled schemer was respectany buried,
and there her history ended.

 

Captain Bellaire, Wainbridge and McCurdy
were duly tried and convicted. As no premedi-
tation to commit the crime of the pier could
be proven, they escaped the death-penalty, but
each received a long sentence.

When Stumps saw McCurdy he recognized
him as the man who had followed him home
the night he was assaulted in his room, and
Barne finally confessed that attempted crime.

Ira icketts was used as a witness for the peo-
ple and allowed to go free. He is leading an
honest life. '

The Tiernans are prospernis and happy, and
when Lenore visits them, as she often does, can-
not quite get rid of the im ression that she who
was once the Angel of the ocks is a little more
than human.

Jim Royal had surmised correctly on one
point, and the fact was established when Lenore
became Mrs. Meredith Raynor. '

It was found that the Western land, pun
chased a score of years before by Harper Bellaire
really had become very valuable; that it was
because of this her uncle had plotted against
her, as he unjustly held her share; that he had
deliberately left his brother and family on the
ocean island to get the property; and Lenora
novv received her own and was wealthy.

And the Spotter Trio? .

They are still in harness. Resolute Jim, sober _
Stumps and volatile Bobby received great glory
from their work, and good pay, too. Not
strange, then, that they sought fresh fields for
the exercise of their peculiar glfh as spotter-
detectives. _

m In.

 

 

BEADLE’Sa-t—HALF-DIMErLIBRARY.

Mlislwd Every Tuesday.

Each Issue Complete. and Sold

 

BY El)\VARD 1.. \YIII‘IIHJCR.
Denthvood Dick Novels.

1 Deadwood
20 Deadwood
98 Deadwood
35 Deadwood
Dead wood
Dead wood
T Deadwood
Deadwood
Dead wood
100 Dead \\ ood
104 Deadwood
109 Deadwood
199 Deadwood
188 Deadwood
149 Deadwood
156 Deadwood
195 Deadwood
201 Deadwood

05 Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Gold-Dun.
Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
851 Deadwood
869 Deadwood
405 Deadwood
410 Deadwood
u Deadwood
480 Deadwood
448 Dead wood

Dead wood
458 Deadwood
459 Deadwood
465 Deadwood
471 Deadwood
476 Deadwood
481 Deadwood
491 Deadwood
490 Deadwood
500 Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
58 Deadwood
544 Deadwood
549 Deadwood
554 Deadwood
1 Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Dead w ood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
61" Deadwood
62 Deadwood
680 Deadwood
636 Deadwood
649 Deadwood
64H Deadwood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Dead wood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Dead wood
' Deadwood
700 Deadwood
1’04 Deadwood
710 Deadwood
Dead wood
722 Deadwood
799 Deadwood
781 Deadwood
740 Deadwood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Dead wood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
Dead wood
Dead \\ ood
Dead wood
Dead wood
Dead a ood
Deadwood
Dead a and
Dead wood
90 1 Dead wood
910 Deadwood
916 Deadwood
92K Deadwood
934 Deadwood
940 Deadwood
946 Deadwood
9";l Deadwood
957 Deadw0od
965 Deadwood
9fl
97?
9N6
992
99a

4

1‘.‘
921
I82
.68
I68
800
821
841

in

.5
fl
1

3

Dead wood
Deadwood
Dead wood
De ad wood

Dead wood Diek. J r.'I.

Dlek, the Prince oi the Rnnd.

Dlek'u Deilanee; or, liii‘tllllr' Daggers.
Dlek in Diagnlue; v-r,llutinl1 tit-n

Dick In Ilin Candle.

Dlek'l Bonanza; or, The Phantom Miner.
Dirk In Danger: m,0mahn0ll.

Dlek'n l‘Iagieu; or, Tl‘e Pard‘ 0t Flood Bar.
Diek on Deek: n-r. (‘nlnntlty .‘ ‘IneJhe Heroine
Diek‘n Lat-t Aet: nr.(,'ordurn,' Charlie.
Diek In Leads Ille.

Dlek'n Device: or, The Double Cross Sign.
Diek an Detective.

i

 

Dit'k'tl Double: (mm comm-annual...“ ;‘

Diek’l llorne Dale: or, illumit Bill.
Diek‘n "lg Strike; or,A (ininent‘fluid.
Dlek or Deadwood: or, 'ihe l’irlted Party.
Dlek’a Dream; of The Rivals oi the Road.
Diek'l “'ard; m, “it..- Black nnr. Jenner.
Ilb’lielliza [11,0013 x] or, {Jainmity Juno's Adventure.

e ' I e kn .

Diek‘n De th-l’lant.
Dick. A Romance of Rough: and Touzha.
{net‘s llrlvide nr,|'l'he Spirit of Swamp Lake.
e ’n eatn ra l.
Diek’al Deal: or, The Gold Brirlt oi Oregon.
Dlek’a Dozen; or, The Fakir niPhnntoni Flat:
Diek‘n Dueatn: or, Days in the Dizzinzn.
lli'llelli“fle;nlte|needx or, The Terrible Vendetta.
e ' a ‘ a In.
Diek In Dead (‘It .
Dlek‘l Diamondsy
Dick In New York: or. A "Cute Cm."
Diek'u Duet; or, The Chained Hand.
Dlek. Jim: pr, The Crimson Crescent Sign.
Diek. Jr.'-, Defiant-e.
Diek. Jr.’u Full "and.
Dlek, .11’.’l, Rig Round-I’p.
Diek Jr): Raeket at Claim 10.
Diek, Jr.’- Corral; or, Ban-man Bill.
Dlek. Jr.’ll, Dog Deteetive.
Diek. Jr.. In Deadwood.
Dlek, Jr.’-I. Compact.
Diek Jr.‘n. inheritance.
Diek, .lr.’a DI Inge.
Diek. Jr.'a. De veraneo.
 in? 'FIIl-otegee.
e '. r. I. ree.
Dlek. .Ir.'n. Danger Dueko.
liner. grin-l. Dleath llunt.

e ', r., n exan.

Dirk, Jr” the “'lld \Veat Vidoq
Dlek. .lr., on Illa Mottle.
Dlek. Jr., In Gotham.
Dlek. Jr.. In Rot-ton.

“:et, in, I'n Philadelphia.

0 '. r., n ‘
Dlek. Jr“ A
Diek. or.. In Denver.

Dlek. Jr.‘-, Decree.

Diek Jr., In Beelzebnb’l Dal-ll.
Dlek. .lr., at. (‘oney inland.
Diek, Jr)» Leadville Lay

Dlek. Jr.. In Detroit.

Dlek- Jr. In (‘Int-Irtnatl.

Diek. Jr.. In Nevada.

Diek. Jr., in No Man'u Land.
Diek. Jr.. Alter the Queer.

Dlek .lr.. In lIqualo.

Diek. Jr.'-. (‘ha-e Aerou the Continent
Diek, Jr.. Among the qugglera.
Dlek, Jr.'- lmnarnneefale.
Dll'k, Jr.. ilaek In the Min".
Diek, .l r.. in Durango: or. “ Gathered in."
Dick. .lr.'n Ill-winery;ur,Fonnanortune.
Dlek. Jr.'-. Dazzle.

Diek. .lr.‘II. Dollarn.

lbiek. .lr.. at. Danger Divide.‘
Diek. JI'.’I, Drop.

Dlek. Jr., at Jaek-Pot.

Dlek Jr.. In San Francisco.
Diek, Jr.’n Still Ilnnt.

Diek. Jr}: Dominoes.

Dlek. Jr}: DinguiIe.

Dlek. Jr.’u, Double Deal.

Diek Jr.’-. Deathwateh.

Dlek .lr.‘-, Doublet.

Dir-L. .lr.'n. lieathblow.

Diek, .Ir.'- Delpt'l’llte Strait.
lliek, .lr.’-, Lone "and.

Dick, .lr.‘n Defeat.

Diek. .Ir.'-, Rennrreetion.

::'i('ll:. :llr_'n"l|nar(:.' Dayl.

e' r.. e e .

Dick, .lr.'n, Double Devlee.
Dlek. Jr‘.ll. Denperaie Venture.)
Diek, Jr.‘-, Diamond Diee.
Dlek .lr.’-, Royal Flu-h.
Dir-k. Jr."- liend-ofl'.
33:53, §$;'Z::i‘xi.‘..‘:.'.'.

e . r. -. eon .
DIek, Jr.'u, l'ropxi.
Diek. Jr.'n, (‘lute .
Dlek, Jr.’n, Iiigh "or-e.
Dir-k .lr.. at. Devli'a Guleil.
Diek, Jr.‘~. Death-Ilole llnntl.»
Diek. Jr.‘n Bomb-hell.
Dir-k, Jr.. In )iexieo.
Diek. Jr‘n Deeoy Duck.
Dirk, .ir. In (“liver l’oeket.
Diek. Jr.'n. Dead-Rure flame.
Diek, Jr.’a, Double Drive.
lilek. .lr.'a. Trade-“ark.
Diek, Jr., at Tin-Top. _
Diek. drip Don le-Deekcr..
Diek. Jr. at Dollan ille.
Diek. Jr.. at Flu-h Flats.
Dir-k. Jr.'n. Fhake-uo.
Diek. .Ir.‘-. Double Drop.
Dlek. Jr.‘l. Right. Bower.
Diek, Jr.‘I. Ten-Ftrike.
Dlek. Jr.’-,0(:told-Dunt.

a .
Dlek. Jr.’-, Death-Doom.
Diek. Jr.’e, lien-t Card.
Dlek. Jr., at Gold Duet.
Diek. Jr.‘l. 111g Play.

1005 Deadwood Dlek, Jr.. Branded

1011 ll‘udl'owd D‘ek. Jr.’a.

Du tell Dard.

1018 Deadwood Diet. .1- .‘I. Big Four.
BY '1‘. J. FLANAGAN.
909 Midi-hipman Dare. the Pirate (‘atehen

925 The 1 mm

988 The. Two .

(‘ruium

Cowboy Captain.
Idnhipmen: or, The Cornir-Chuer'l Pint

Three Lieutenant-
959 The Mia-toot. \i dd
966 Fighting Jaek

v; or. The our Commandant.

flhubriek.

972 Fighting Jaek‘n Middle-x or, Dandy Dick's Dub.
99. Jack Lang, tha Privateer Rover.
101‘ Ilddy Ned, tin Runaway.

 

   

 

1‘}. 1.. \Y 11 eeler.

ill0 Rom-bud Rob; or, Nllggvi \‘wi. Hm KMML
“4 ROI‘CDIHI "00 (Ill "and; Hr, l-l\1,ih-viiirl Miner.
H3 Rout-bud lioh'n Rea prarallet'; “V. P'H‘i'IL'rMitll l’hil.
I‘ll Rout-bud Roli‘n (‘hai’h-nge; or, (‘innnn-nn whip,
277 “0'” IT "0“. the ilrtwtlu- (gm-en. r-r, 'l‘h. Ya' itu-‘u Surround
2H1 Denter Doll'n \Lh-tory: .r .N' ,nl- :tilti l'v MA. in”,
2N5 DeIner Doll‘u Deeoy: or. Lillie Hill's i’mtth'tln.
'96 Denver Doll's Drii‘i : 'vr. Tile Ruml an-n.
86K 1' reka .liln. tile Gold-flat herer: or, Th. Life Lottery.
‘a llnim: m. 'irht- “1.x... . l \anw t‘n. '
'n . 0 (er: er, ilt‘ ltivnlsol iimt Nta.
894 Y reka Jim at Y uhn Dam. ”
209 Fritz, the iinumirlio) ih-tet'ttve or. Dot lmt'vi.‘ Hume.
$13 Fritz to the Front: or. Th» Yr-liiriinquiki Hunter,
244 Sierra Horn. th. Frontier h-rm, or, A Sint»r‘.1i..,mmn.
31!" Sierra Rama- fleeret: w, The Bitltitiv H-wtprinta.
$53 lilerra Sam's i’ard; or. Tm- Angel tn Big Vista.
358 Sierra Ham‘- fleven; ur.The Stolen Bride.
3151 Kangaroo Kii; or. The Mysterious Miner.
‘89 Kangaroo Kit'fl Raeke ; Hr. The i'rnl.- r-t Flared-Out.
39 Death-Face. ilrtertive; or, Life in New York. -
96 “'ateh-liye iill' lleto—rtEve; or, Arabs and Angels.
11? Gilt-Edged Dir-k, the s..." mean.
45 Captain Ferret, thv New York Detective.
16! New York Nell, the It..\-.1-‘irlDetertiu-.
226 The Arab Detective: or, Snonztr, the. 1’...) Sharp.
991 Turk the lloy Ferret.
325 Kelley, "101(0)" I" l‘o.. the thm titer: of Philadelphia.
843 Manhattan: Mike, ttm Bowery [Mu-tire.
400 “'rlnklea. the Night “'atrii liq-tertive.
416 High Ilat llarry. lite illme ilall Deter-live.
42“ Sam Main-Idea. the lieggnr-iim‘ iletei-tive.
‘34 Jim “(‘llk and Pa]. Private lietectlwn.
20 (‘loven lloof‘, the Buffalo ih-nmn: or, The Border Vulturel.
32 Bob “'ooli': ur. Tilt' Girl Dead-Shut.
45 Did A\'alanehe' or. Wild Edit», the Girl ilrignnd.
58 Jim llludnoe. r., the itny Phwix.
61 llaekhorn llill: or. The Red itifle Team.
92 (‘anada (‘lletz or. Old Annvonda in Sitting Bull's Camp.
113 .laek Iloyle the Young Stveeuintnr.
135 llonanza Hill. \liner: nr, Nimimn Mystery, the Forger.
183 lion-a "oh the King l-r linollrlnr‘kg,
141 Solid Nam, the iim Road-Agent; ur. The Branded Brown.
177 Nobb ' Niek of Nevada; or. The. Sierra: Smmpn.
131 “'illl ‘rank the Run kai in Hrnvn: fir. i.atl_\' Lil)": Love.
’3“ Apollo Hill, the Trail Tornado: nr, Road} Rate.
940 (‘yelone Kit, the Youmer Gladiator; hr, The Lorin-d Valley.
278 Jumbo Joe, the itny l‘atrul: or. The Rival Heirs.
330 Little uix-k-flhot; or, l'lm Dead Face of Daggersviilo.
358 P‘Irnt-C a-n Fred. ‘he Gent il’trlll Gopher,
878 Nabob Ned: or. The s.-t-r.torsn.t. Citv.
3RD (‘ool Kit. the King 1 i Kilii; or, A \ ilinzn' Vengeance.
4831 Santa Fe Kai, the Slasher. or. A Sunk Venemnre.
“6 Deal-kin Sam. the Sparkler; or The Tribunal of Ten.
913 Kit. Keith. i e Rover Ilr Spotter.
922 Hol Sharpe. the New York Night-Hawk.
943 Did llayueed Among Duneo Men.
1001Danty. the Denver llootblaek.

BY J. C. (‘0‘1’DR1C1{.

490 Broadway Billy. the Bonthlack Bravo.
514 Broadway liilly’n Boodle: or, Ciealing aStrange Cue.

Other No vols by

 

536 Broadway Dilly": ‘DIIIikilty."

557 Broadway Dillly‘n Death Raeket.

579 llroadway Bil y'- Hurprine Party.

605 Broadway Hilly: nr,’!’h.- Boy llrtel‘live’l Rig lnninr.
625 Broadway Iiilly‘n Dead Aet: or. The League 01 Seven.
669 Broadway lilily Ahroad: or,'l'h-- ilmvthlnrk In Frinro.
675 "roadway lIllly‘n Rent: 'il’,l1l‘l|l.il’l£slll l-‘rnnct-co‘IFInoot.
66’? Broadway Dilly In i‘lover. '

696 Broadway Dilly In Texan; or, The Rivrr Rustlt-n.
708 Broadway Dilly"! llrnnd.

711 Broadway Hilly at Rania Fe: or,The Clewr Deni.

Dilly‘n i'ull "and: or, The Guniu Detective.
Dilly‘n Dnnlneu.

Dilly‘n (‘urionn Pale.

lIilly in Denver.

lIIlly‘n Bargain: or, The, Three Detective.
Dilly, ll’t‘ thrivvi-v Deter-tire.

Riily‘n flhadow (‘ha-e.

llllly‘n Beagle-I: or. The Trio‘n Qnr-at.
Dilly’n Team: or, 'i'hw (‘nnihine's iiig Pull.
ltllly’n Brigade: 0r. Tim Dead Alive.
lilily‘n Queer liequent.

Dilly liaflled.

Diliy‘a Fignal fieoop.

lilily'n ‘Yipe Dot.

Broadway lIilly’n llank Raeket-

Broadway Dilly": RIIIIY.

Broadaay ltllly Amon Jer-ey Thu...
"roadway llllly‘u Raitit.

"roadway Billy’- lllg Room.

llroadwny ltllly‘u Big Bul e.

Broadway iiilly'u homo o finap.

llroada ay Dilly"! lllind: 0r. The istmthlark Stowaway.
"roadway Billy In London.

Broadway itIily shadow- London Slums.
liroadway llllly'n Freneh Gan-e. .

ltroadwuy Billy and the Romb-Tarowerl.
Sliver-Mania the Man oi Myrtery; or, The Golden Kayo.
“ha-ta. the Gold King; or, For Seven Years Dead.

49 The lieteetive'n ltlpprentieex or, A Boy Without a Name.
494 (‘Ibutu .lonnx hr, vd-llot Time. at Auto Bar.

489 Kandy Sam. the Street Scout.

46? "teen Dan. the Uni!) Dude.

506 Red“ 111. Ralph the Pdltl‘e oithr Road.

524 The 
54" “art, the, Night Ex rem Detective.

“7| Air-Line Lulu- t ie Young Engineer; or, The Double Can
592 The Boy Pinkerton; or, Running thi- Rnlt‘all Out.
615 Fighting llarrv [he Chief at i‘hnined Cvrione.

640 Bareback llet , the (‘rntaur of the ('ircle.

“47 Tvm-writer Tilly, the Niurehnntll “'ard.

659 Moonlight “organ the " Plume-t- ” Man of Ant. Bu.
Fifi? Battery "no. the Doek Detective.

i194 Arizona Diek‘n “I e-Ont.

900 Jumping Jaek‘l uhilee.

90“ flilil‘i)‘ Flam, the Cytle Sport.

912 Train lloy Trlut‘n llot Handle.

91‘ The Trump Doek-liov.
924 Big Root: "oh, the l“!re.-1.addie.

980 Run-tier Ralph. the Roy Spotter.

9th": The le-New-hoy Deteetive‘n Chum.

941 The Howling (Ireen Deteetlve'n Drop.

944 (‘owboy (‘harlie‘n Double.

947 The Bowery \Y I'm-tier: or. The linirher-llm'l Rflrlii'l'.
953 l’addY‘a Trump Card; or. Silver Sallie, the Girl Sport.
960 The Broadway Sport: or. Fiver Fn-d’u (‘ionr (‘nu.
96? #1000 Reward: or. Titt' i’tivni Rvi-orten‘ Sleek Scoop.
978 Rantmn lllily. the Parker-Ferret.

979 I'Iuekv I‘at. the Street-Roy Deteetive.

9"!) llieyrle llob‘a "oi Heart-ll.

997 fleorelwr Hum. tln- Detel‘livl- on Wheels.

1004 fieoreher flam‘u fiwre Jitakea.

1009 Tue Girl (flu-H13- \\ inning "and.

“roadway
R road way
llroad way
it roadway
11 road way
“roadway
Broad way
ll road way
"roadway
liroad way
lIroad way
Broadway
llroadw ay
0 Broadway

BY \VIIJJA.“ PERRY DRO\VNE.

956 Brooklyn Rob‘s Bulge: or, Dndeor Dnt'u Diamond anp.
963 The Fault-Ride Hpottert nr,anning llnwn the Big Thm
974 Did fiant’n Dark Deal: or, Vim-r Mnt’n ir-n Grip.
1015 The Reporter-Detee'Ive‘n lIIg l’all.

ngineer Deteetive: nr, Reilliglit Ralph‘s Rewive

(It Hm Umfm'm Price of Fire ('enfx. by all A7>z(‘srl<’alm.

 

 
   

 

v7-.. . .,_-____...—
nl‘l“l“.\l.() "11.1. NOYI‘ILS.
M' (wth l’i.i STISS INGIPATIAM.
. 1018 Dali'an lilii‘n ’1‘. \31-1 Team.
' 1007 llnil’alo liiil'n ‘nre-‘hotd.
l000 llaii'nlo lilli‘n "('00) Roy-I. ‘
99:: liuil'alo llill‘u Drop; V. in in shot Ne-‘l , the Knnw Kld.

EINN Bull'an Iiiil" l a-mo 'l hrouern.

9’41 "nifan llill': Fighting l"l\‘e.

975 lllliralo llili'u lililehlloil.

96“ Bull‘an illil‘- ii'u-h Ride: r. Sure-Shot.th "lib-Fly"-
!Ni 1 linifalo Iliil'n- Deeoy: or. '1 i... Arizona Crnek Shut.
95‘ lluii'aio liill'- Mazep ia-(‘hat-e. _
91" Builan lllll'n .‘uap-H rot: vi. Wiiil Kiti'l 'lrxnn Tail)-
9-12 Hull'an lllll‘n Tough Tun-lie.

936 llnii'alo mm- In.) \In-eol: 1".th Jnrvlu' Hole-r-
929 Buffalo llill'v- l‘raek-nitot Paul.

650 lluflalo lllll‘-t Do) Paul: at, lintlrrtly Billy.

21“ Hindu "ill. the i‘rinn- 0: Lite it.“ I.

322 Bison liill'n (‘luez ur i-‘rit,thr 811170 Sport.

BY BTFFAU} Nil 1..
55 Deadly-Eye. the Unknown .Ql‘fllli. or, The Banded Brotherhood
6’4 Border Robin flood: or, The Prairie Rover.
158 Fancy Frank of Colorado: or. The Trapper’l Trut-
1029 The Phantom lipy.
BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR, i]. 8. A.

191 Bulfan Dilly, the Boy Bniiwhnrlter.
194 Bull'an Bill‘s liet . nr. Th.- Gambler Guide.

 

 

BY (‘01.. PREN'I‘ISS INGRAIIAM.

1031 The Texan "antler-n in ('uba.

1027 The ('owboy Raider: in (‘ulm

1025 The Flying \ nakee or. 'i'h» iireilii Outcast».

1023 '1‘he(‘o\\boy (‘lnn In (‘n‘ a.

1016 The Roy lhigler lu l‘nha. ‘

9 New Yor ' .Nat'n Dro : m, Erl’nrretfiykes'nofl Game

New York Nut and tile '1 raitur l‘erret.

New York Nat Trapped. _

New York Nat’n ’i hree of a kind.

‘ New York )at'n Double.

New York .Nat‘n In (‘olorndm

New York Nat in Gold Nugget Camp.

New York Nat‘n Deadly Deal.

New York Nat'u (‘rook-(‘lIat-P.

New York \at‘n Trump ('ard.

New York .\at and the “run e (Shoulll.

New York .\ut‘- .11 a-Led Man-0t.

New York .\ at. tit-A Hantin Dru. tiw.

Diek Doom’n kidnapper Klioek-Out.

Diek Doqu‘n ‘en Mrlke.

‘ Doom'n Finn-h "and.

‘ Doom'a IN-ath-i-‘rim or, The Detective hr Destiny.

Doom‘n Dec-tiny: or, 1 he River Blackler'l Terror.

Doom: '1', 'l l u Sitar; r. :tnd Fharkn or New York.

Doom in Rog-ton: or, A Man nI Many Mash.

Doom in ('hiengo. '

Doom in the \\ lid 11 eat.

Doom'a (‘lenu Sweep; or, Five Link: in a Clue.

Doom’u Death flue.

Pie Doom’n Diamond Deal.

Diek Doom’n i-‘irl )iaeeot.

Diek Doom'a Shadow "ant.

Diek Doom'n Rig limll. “

Dan-hing ('hariie: or Tim Krni‘lf‘linPnllt'YiMi,l FirutTrnn.

Dar-hing: ('imrlie'n Del-tiny: hr, The Renezndo’o Captivm

Dar-him: ('hariie'u l’nwnee l’ard.

Dan-th (‘llarlie, ti e Rewuer.

Duek aylor, King- at thv Cowboyl.

“llek Taylor. the "unimmhe‘s ('nytivo.

Buck Taylor.“ 1;“ .; .r,Th.-F.m Riders oi the Rio Grands.
And ‘Iily iitherl.

1
..
a:
_.
r.'..."‘.'

BY 1.1131'1‘. A. K. Sl‘ilS.

Tom-Cat and l’ard: nr.’l'h~e Dead Rut at Silver City.
Tom-(‘at'a ' 'riad: Hr. 'i h. Adnlr at ’l'cniimtnna.
Tom (‘at'l Terrible Tank: hr. 'll..- l‘r-whoy Detectivn
Tom.(‘at'a Triumph; or, iii-1k Dan'n Gtrnt Combine.
(‘aptain (‘netllnlht t‘hnpnrrnl Pork; or. Jnlh’l Ten Strike.
5 r The Dandy oi Dodge; m. Rt: (ling hvr Millions.
576 The fillv’er Hport: -r. .lm-h l‘vi pennint'u Jubilee.

S on 301. the Man With A Shadow
5&8' I'rr I 9hr ilu'rv. Yidnco: «allot. Tlmrsat Round-UP
Iaeie, tho- Dotrrtiro- Hercules.
“40 (‘owhoy “M, the (Wattle-Range Drh-rtlve.
657 “'arhiiug William the Mountain Mountebuik.
665 Jolly Jeremiah. th. Pininn Detective.
67“ fl'Illlal .iam. 9‘" lm kunt Shunt. ' I
639 Hilly tin- fiyvay flpy; or, 'lhe 3 water“ 0i Two Liv“;
399 flimp 0 film. tln- annrho Bttfitvri N. 1““? it! Stalin.
712 1")“. “(unwrifl Rpm-1; or, The Myltifled Detective.
733 Toliee Tom. the Mail Pro-vector.
74.") Kant-an Jim 1hr (‘ran‘nt Dem-tire.
761 Marmaduke, the Mustang" Detertiva.
773 The Ran-tier of Rolling Stone.
7R5 Lone Ilgnd Joe the Committee i-i Ono.
301 Kent Kirby. tin- llEYi'rlK'i’lN‘l' lrum Kilihnck.
i383 The Doeior Dete eth e in Texan.
‘73 Two fihowmen Deteetiver In Colorado.
98? The Texan Fin-brand: nr. ilrazus Iiilly‘l Snapfihot.
961 The Trump‘n Trump-Triek.

NEW ISSUES.

101 l The New York sharp. ll; l‘un D llnllidny.

10-15 Rim-tang Merle'n Kline. iiy Maj. Finn. 5. Scott.
1016 fluid l'iume, "1 Fit} ilmuiit; hr. lluflnlo Bill,the POT}?
Expresn Killer. [M (‘--i. Fri-mks ingraham.

Flyer Fred. the (‘yelint Ferret. By Rny Rorkw. 0.1,
The Ftreet Spotterl' “'elrd llunt. lly “'nring,
B) “'m. R. Eyster.

  

611 “ii a

1047
10-153
1049 Queen l.dna ofthe Pant-hero.
1050 The One-A rmed Sport, By T. C. llarbmtgh.
1051 The Roy llerenicn, 1;) (ill Coomu.‘,‘

JUST ISSUED.

1088 You Ret Boh‘n (‘ireum 3" A'l’m‘“ 

tom The (:old VHteh'u- shadow-or. "H "IT-102mb"!!-
10125 Antelope Abe. the Bov i-‘ulde. Bv rm (oonmu.
108d Daudv Int-It'- Ivouhlh “t “be” i“ 1"" “"-

) . .‘1Vc, lb (‘44.1’, irumhnm.
mg:  h. PM Right Hand. By iiufi'lio nm.

0 y .rIe the iio_\ Rnneivrr. B) Maj S S. Srott.
102?? liliif‘allll‘flilll- 1’l’tIT l'atrol. ily 1:0] l"..in ’ hum.
1041 i‘owbov (‘hril tot l‘ 1‘ ore I "Y “ m. vV. Ildrr.
1042 Little Grit. the Pony Exprera itulv-r. iiv Col. lng’rnhnrm

1048 You liet Bob Iron: Crone (‘rie . By Arizonnty.
A New issue Every Tuesday.
The Half-Dine Library in (or mic by all “Inhaler-,le
“perm, or unt by mail on receipt ot nix ca‘c each. ’
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers. ‘
92 “'iliiam Street, New York.‘