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57" Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y . Post omce. Copyrighted 1897. by BEADLE AND ADAMS. Folfruury L‘. 18v}.
$2.50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. Price,
NO'  a. Year. No. 92 WILLIAM STREET. NEW YORK. 5 cents.  XL'

 

 

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Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

 

 

Burd Bayard’s Close Call;
IN THE DFlATH-NET.

BY CAPT. R. M. HAWTHORNE,
AUTHOR. or “ HURRICANE GULCH,"
caUMM‘s carrrocaam," arc.

 

“ MAX

CHAPTER I.
THE CAPTAIN or THE ALBA'I‘ROSS.

TOWARD the close of a lovely day in spring-
time the schooner Albatross came to anchor in
an arm of the Chesapeake, off the straggling
town’of Buzzard’s Roost, on the West Shore.
The tide was in, and the water where the natty
ves>el lay was deep enough to float an iron-clad
frigate.

Hardly was the splash of the forked iron as it
sunk from the prow of the Albatrosa heard on
shore when a small boat containing: six men put
out from the schooner’s side. Making straight
for the wharf they landed, and five of them
headed for the old tavern in front of which had
crenkvd the sign of theiiolden Boar from the
days of the Revolution.

’l‘hey entered the dingy inn, while the sixth
continued up the highway, as though he had no
further interest in the seamen from whom he
had parted company.

The five who strode into the bar-room were
strangers in Buzzard’s Roost, neither the land-
lord nor any of the lounge-rs there remembering
ever having seen them before. The sixth per-
son was of medium size, with immense bushy
whiskers covering his breast, while his sailor
hat was drawn close over his eyes. He carried
a large cane, which must have been intended as
a means of defense, since such an athletic young
man could not have needed its aid in walking. '

Taking the broad high way, this person strode
ofl.’ toward the old mansion known since colonial
days as The Cedars, and which had been the
home of the Havens from the days of Lord Bal—
timore. '

This young man, the captain of the Albatross,
collie! so rapidly that the intervening two
miles were passed sooner than he intended, for
the sun was still above the horizon when he
came in right of the huge gray-stone mansion.
Noticing the fact, he muttered several words,
and then, turning his face toward Buzzard’s
Roost. walked a half-mile at a leisurely pace be-

. fore coming back in the direction of The
Cedars.

By this time all sunlight was gone and twi-
light had settled over the earth. The sailor
paused. and, leaning against the fence at the
roadside, gazed 08 into vacancy as though lost
in deep reverie. Suddenly he passed his hand
over his chin, and when he draw it away the
whole luxuriant wealth of black beard followed,
leaving his face clear and clean as that of a

girl.
“ l haven’t much faith in this d uise,” said
the young captain, holding of! the irsute ap-

pendage and surveying it. “ I feel so awkward
with it tacked on to my face that I‘m sure eve
one I meet suspects the truth. However, it s
growing dark—”

He started like a thief in the night as he
caught a heavy footstep behind him, and whirl-
ing about saw a negro standing within six feet
of him too terrified to speak.

“Gel! gracious! hone you‘ll ’scuse me,” said
the dar y, with chattering teeth. “ but you
stood so clus to de fence dat I didn’t see you till
arter I see’d you, and if I had see’d yer store I
see’d" yer, why, I wouldn’t hab—dat is, see’d

l‘

ye .

While this jumble was falling from the negro’s
lips thesailor was holding his heard in his hand.
Recalling the grotesque blunder, he turned his
head,and in a twinkling the whiskers were re-
stored to their place.

. But for that glimpse of the African the young
ca tain ht have played the part of Dr.
Je yll'aud r. Hyde with some success, but he
knew he had failed, and he was aflame with
chagrin as he faced the negro whom he saw
movin off.

“ Ho (1 on, there!” commanded the sailor, so
sharply that the other halted, though it was ap-
parent he was ill at ease.

_“’Scuse me," loaded the negro, his voice still
tromuloas, “ ha I promised mil-is I wouldn’t
hob anytth do wid do dehbul—so I’ll hid

-nig t and go home i”

“ c, you won‘t,” warned the young captain,
flopping threatenineg toward him; “ where are
you going!”

 

 

“ Home—up dar l” replied the negro, pointing
in the direction of The Cedars, the great ram-
bling structure invisible in the wealth of trees
and vegetation by which it was surrounded.
“It’s late already and I hope you’ll ’scuse me,
for if I’m late ag’in I’ll get lammed.”

“You can go when I am through with you
and not before,” declared the sailor so sternly
that the other became all meekness at once.
“ Tell your missis that you were stopped bya
robber, and that if you hadn’t done what he told
you to do, he would have killed you.”

“ Dat’s de trouble,” returned the negro—“ dat’s
de wery story I hab been tellin’ her fur de last
free months and a half, till I’m ’feared she be-
gins to feel some doubts oh my weracity.”

“Your name is Pompey and you are a ser-
vant of Colonel Haven. ”

“ Golly gracious! who told you dati” demand-
ed the astonished negro; “you hit it do fu’st
time, only I s’pose you know dat Colonel Haven
hahbeell deal! six months.”

“ W'hui ! Colonel Haven dead?” exclaimed the
sailor, starting back. “ How long ago did you
say it t )Ok place?”

“ A little more dan six months. It came on
do colonel mighty suddint, jes’ while he was a-
settin’ at de dinner-table and touching his glass
to (let ob de missis and drinkin’ht-r health. I
tell yer, Mr. Debbil,” added Pompey with a sniil’
as he drew his hand across his eyes, “ we all
miss him, fur he war a kind master.”

The youngr man was deeply affected by the
news and held his peace until the servant had
(in-I'COII‘O his emotion. Suddenly the latter
locked up in a peculiar way.

“De colonel didn’t die right off, you know.
He fell out Oh his cheer onto de floor, and while
dey was doin' what dey could for him, I jumped
onto Thunderbolt and sent him flyin’ arter Dr.
Hazeltine, but it warn’t no use; afore de doctor
got dar de colonel war dead, and, ” added the
negro in an awed voice, “ afore he died who do
you s’pose corned to see him?”

“ How should I know?" impatiently asked the
young captain.

“ Yer see, Pete told me all about it. It war
Muriel—dc a1 come—nobody could tell whar
from—but jist like a bird out ob de sky—she
flawed in—frowed her arms about her fader‘s
neck and kept ’em dar till he died l”

“And—did he—apeak kindly to her?” asked
the sailor, striving hard to control his emotion.

“Bress you, yes! Dey talked jist like when
she war a little gal. He opened his eyes wid
Miss Muriel‘s hair lyin’ on his breast, and he
didn’t see nufliu’ but her and she didn’t see no
one but him, and nobody else said a word. Dey
talked and cried and, jist as he died, she had
her lips to his’n.”

“And what then?” asked the deeply-interested
stran er.

“ a1, de gal—dot is Miss Muriel—vanished
jist as she come and nobody hain’t seen nuiiin’
oh her since, and don’t know whar she am gone 1”

“ You can go now, Pompey, and here‘s a dol-
lar for answering my questions. Reine her
you are to tell no one you met me to-nigh , or
that any one asked the questions you have an-
swered.”

“ J ist trust me for dat,” said Pompey, deftly
catching the coin tossed to him and starting in
the direction of The Cedars with the resolve to
tell every one whom he encountered for the fol-
loiwing month the whole particulars of the inter-
v ew.

“ He’s a mighty q‘uar chap.” touted the Afri-
can, as he moved s'w ftly away. “ When I fu’st
see’d him, he hadn’t any whiskers, den he moved
his head round and when he looked back, dar
dey war! I neber seen a man’s heard grow as
fast as dat. Den, when he spoke, his voice
sounded like thunder till we war talkin’ ’bout
Miss Muriel, and den it war as low and soft as
hem. If I didn’t know det Burd Bayard war
dead, I would ’say dst war him come back from
de sea, dough dar war a time when I war sart’in
he war de dehhil. Mehbe it war Bayard’s
ghost!” he added with a furtive glance around,
“only ghosts don’t go to slingin’ silver dollars
round as dou h dey don’t cost nufllu’, and I’m
sure to git ammed ag’in when I got home.
Dore ain‘t no use oh my tellin’ do tract for dey
won’t believe me and I’ll hab to gib up tryin’ to
be good.”

CHAPTER II.
nocroa HAZEL‘I‘INI.

Foa a long time after the departure of the
negro, the young sailor stood in a thoughtful at-
tltnde, holding his heavy cane in a care
grasp, and now and then drawing a long, deep

sigh.

 

 

“I hardly think P)mpey coulrl have recog-
nized me, though I acted like an idiot. I dis-
guised my voice, if I didn’t my face. There’s
one thing certain—nature never meant me for
a detective.

” I didn’t dream of Colonel Haven dropping
off like that,” he continued, resuming his walk
toward The Cedars. “ I thought he was good
for twenty years yet. Then he died with Muri-
el’s arms around his neck, with the two whisper-
ing words of affection to each other. I always
understood the Havens to be a racc that never
forgave nor forgot. If the colonel relented. he
was the first of his kind to do so, but the death-
dew was on his brow, when he spoke the loving
words. .

“ I can never go back to the Albatross. till I
learn more about this awful business. Ah i that
was a dark day, four years ago, when th i storm
burst over The Cedars! I felt that thus 'sdow
could never be lifted from that thrush Ill again.

“ Was the shadow lifted? “fee all made rirzht
in that last moment“ Nol ’l‘oo deep :1 wrong
was done for it ever'to be made right this side
the grave.

“ There is only one person besides mo, ou tside
of the family, who knows the history of the
frightful sorrow which crossed the threshold
that night and blighted all, as did two a.venging
angel that smote the first-h ‘rn. That purl?! in
is Doctor Hazeltine, the family physician. He
knows all that I do,av, and more, lul‘ he was
present at that supreme intervie v between
father and daughter. He can tall me, but will
he do so? Dare I trust myself in his presence?
Can I preserve my incognito? Will he not spurn
me from him?"

As if in answer to his prayer, lie observed
through the gloom of the night the well-known
gig of the physician, who had ministerud to the
physical ailments of the neighborhood for the
last two score years. a

The carriage stood at the side of the road in
front of a cottage, and the doctor, having crime
forth: was untying his horse, preparatory to
driVing off on his round of visits.

“ I’ll try it.” muttered the young sailor. com-
pressing his lips and walking boldly forward.

“ Is this Doctor Hazeltine’i" he asked, taking
care to disguise his voice. _

“ It is,” was the curt reply of the physician,
who continued his attention to his horse.

“ I Wish to speak to you."

“ I know of nothing to prevent it, sir.
me feel your pulse.” V

The sailor laughed.

“ I don’t need your professional services. I
am thankful to say. I have just returned from
a long voyage and wish to make some inquiries
about The Cedars and its late owner.”

“ I am listening.”

“ Then it is rea ly true that Colonel Haven is
deal" 1"

“ it is; he expired more than six months ago.
while celebratin at home with his wifetoe feast
of St. Michael, t e Archangel; he was stricken
with apoplsxy.”

" I trust, dootor, that you will pardongmy
pointed question. Colonel Haven had a daugh-
ter, Muriel, and you are aware of the trounle of
four years 880. learned of their estrange-
ment, but have been told that she was with him
when he died—that the dark past was for? ‘ “011.

Let

and that he departed fully recOnciled to her.

Can you tell me whether such was the fact 1”

Doctor Hazeltine drew himself up and replied
in his most frigid tones: .

“You must take me for a fool  'nll‘n“ I
can be made to reveal the sour to of DY 0‘ my
patients. Good-night, sir.”

The young man caught the dor-tor’s arm, as he
was in the act of stepping into h'4 m» .

“ By heavens! you shall answer um! I havs
come to you as the only one who can do so, and
you shall not refuse me i”

The indignant physician turned around. and,
by the aid of the moonlight. peered intently into
the disguised face of the sailor.

“ That’s it!” he exclaimed. straighl'vning up
more scornfully than before. “ You spoke in
your natural tones, then, and ulthODRh ’0“?
face has become covered with a wish" board
since I saw you four years am. yet 1 know you,
Burd Bayard, and my reply to your liizpal'tl‘
nence is to advise on that if you want to keep
your neck out of t e halter. you had better put
to sea at once, and stay there! There is no all
for on to come to these parts. Things are ow
ast ey were when you left and you can make
up your mind that they will stay so forever.
Good-night again 1”

And, stepping into his gig, without inbrfer-
once this time, the doctor gave the reinsa tarp

 

_~_ .

-...M~.. MN"

 

 

 

 

 

“-- Ha-.-

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

 

 

ierk, and went off at a rattling pace down the
ighway.

" Fool that I am i” bitterly mutered Burd
Ba ard,looklng after the awkward vehicle, as
it umbered down the road and vanished in the
gloom of the night; “ I have spoken to two per-
sons since leaving Buzzard’s Roost, and both of
them know me. 1!. would be the same if I ad-
dressed a hundred—so What’s the use?"

An 3. snatching OR the luxuriant whiskers, he
ruv. laL‘le a spiteful fling that carried them
ovrr the fence and out of sight.

file continued his walk in the direction of The
C. dare, pausing a few minutes 1 :ter in front of
the old mansion, whose walls, had they tongues,
could have told many strange tales of what had
taken place there in the years that were gone.

More than once he stopped and gazed longing-
ly at the immense structure, with its wealth of

barns, out-buildings, trees, vegetation and ser-
vants’ quarters, and with forests and meadow-
land stretching away until the estate inclosed
an area of thousands of acres.

But Bayard continued past the famous resi-
dence until he had walked fully at mile, when he
found himself opposite a large, straggling nuan-
siou, made of bricks imported a century before
from llollaiid’ The gable end was entirely on-
veloped in climbing ivy, whose shaky vines
clung to the walls as if seeking to strangle
them.

Contemplating this gloomy building the you ug
sailor captain observed not the first sign of life
within. Everything was as dark and silent as
the tomb.

“ That is the Haunted House,” bemused, as he
rested his hand on the ponderous gate. “ and it
has been a horror for two generations. l :emem-
her that it belongs to the estate of The Cedars.
The legend is that the whole family were inur-
tiered within its walls, and since then the spirits
of the victims have haunted the plaCe. I used to
dread iaand hurry by when I was a child, but I
am older to-night, have seen more of the world,
and” the Haunted House has no terrors now for
me.

What had brought Burd Bayard to this dismal
place, of which he had no thought when landing
irom the Albatross? Why had he left the regu-
lar highway, and, walking up the short, gra-
grown lane, paused in front of the most forbid-
ding of dwellings? Who of us, on a silent
moonlight night could wish to visit a haunted
house, so dreaded by those that knew its history,
that. for many years. no person could be per-
suaded to occupy it, nor could servants be in-
duced to till the fertile land or savo the out-
buildings from moldering and going to ruin? '

Captain Bayard had a resist ess reason for his
step. He believed there was some unexplainable
connection between the, mystery of The Cedars
and that of the Haunted House. He could not
even conjecture its precise nature, but a dim,
shadowy belief came over him that the knowl-
edge he sought in vain from Doctor Hazeltine
awaited him within those gloomy walla.

When the handsome young captain sought to
analyze or understand his feeling on this point,
he failed, but its presence and controlling force
was there none the less.

“ God willing, I shall spend this nightiu the
Haunted House,” he said, passing through the
gate, and slowly approac ing the structure;
“and if, at the comm of daylight, Ishall nei-
ther see nor hear nor earn anything that can
tell me aught of Muriel, and of the shadow that
has brooded over The Cedars so long, than the
Albatross shall carry me out on the Atlantic
to-morrow morning bound for the other side of
the world, and, never again shall i set foot in
my native country! 0’3 8 t1'mh. I cannot un-
derstand what strange impulse has brought me
here at all toonight.”

CHAPTER III.
THE HAUNTED HOUSE. '

Till: bravest man that ever trod this footstool
cannot approach a “ haunted house,” where he is
alone and the night is calm and still, without
being stirred by peculiar emotions.

Captain Bayard walked deliberately forward,
purposely kicking the grand, so as to make all
the noisc possible without seeming to wish to do
so. Not until he stepped upon the rickety porch
did he pause long enough to name himself that
his two loaded pistols were in place. _

“ Shall I knock or open the door Without
ceremony!” he ashed himself; “ however, a
man don t lose anything by politenesa”

tever his emotions, there was no evidence
of timidity when he reached up his hand and
struck a mnde, with the huge brass
hooker, and then mly waited for some re-

, summons.

 

3

 

 

But the listeningear detected not the faint-
est sound, after the knocking had been repeated
several times. .

“ Very well,” he grimly muttered, “if grass
won’t bring him down we’llsee what virtue there
isin stones.”

Raising the old-fashioned latch, be pressed his
shoulder against the heavy door, which yielded
nofmore than if it were the solid brick wall it-
so .

"I forgot that peo le as a rule fasten their
doors at night,” be ad ed, after convincing him-
self it was useless to expect to enter the Haunted
House in the usual way, “ but l‘m resolved to
get in by some means if I have to break this old

oor from its hinges.”

The sailor stepped softly from the porch and
took his place under a dense, spreading oak,
within a. rod of the house.

“I believe human beings are in there,” he
added, after the best survey he could make with
the partial aid of the moonlight; “ I do not see
a :broken window-pane. They are blue and
thin, as though they have stood the storms of a
century, but the house wouldn’t be in half as
good condition, unless some one lived in it.”

The keen eyes of the sailorcaught a Suggestive
fact. ()ne gnarled branch of the huge oak,
under which he was standing, extended its outer
portion'so close ;to an upper window that an
ordinarily-expert man could easily reach the
latter by such help.

“ [’11 try it,” he muttered, “for I’m on serious
business to-night and do not mean to be
thwarted.”

It could not escape Captain Bayard that the
act he was about to uttempt involved great per-
sonal risk, provided living persons were within
the building, for he was assuming the part of a
burglar, and every court and jury in the land
would hold the occupant guiltless who should
shoot such an intruder dead, while forcing an
entrance into a house whose door was locked
against him.

“ l’ll take the responsibility,” he muttered;
“I’ve been charged with graver crimes than
this, and if I’m detected my countrymen will
wonder that I didn’t do worse.”

vin his cane on the ground, and making
sure his pistols were ready, he went up the tree
nimbly and began feeling his way out on the
limb tow ard the window on which he had fixed
his hopes.

The exuberant vegetation shut him out from
the view of any one who might be peeping out
from Within the house, and Bayard advanced
with the care and caution of an assassin stealing
upon his victim.

The large limb bent slightly under his weight,
but_the deflection was an advantage, inasmuch
as it brought him directly Opposite the win-
dow. In a few minutes he was within reach of
the sash.

All remained dark and silent, and wondering
whether the sash was secured in place or not he
reached forward and tested it. It resisted at
first, [but suddenly went up the full height,
where the warped wood held it securely.

“ Good !" be exclaimed. “Now we shall see
what we shall see!"

Grasping the sill with both hands, he rested
his knees upon it, and with his head thrust with-
in the building, looked and listened.

Profound stillness and darkness were on every
hand. Neither eye nor ear could detect the
first evidence that a living being y. as within the
house. inythe faint rustling of the vegetation
behind him as the night-wind gently stirred the
leaves, told him that he was awake and not
dreaming.

Reaching one hand forward and downward,
he felt the hard. bare floor. and the next minute
he stepped within the Haunted House!

Ay, for the first time in his life he was in the
old mansion to 2!; had borne the reputation of
being haunted for a hundred years.

Burd Bayard stood there. having come from
the uttermost parts of the earth, a full-grown
man, embrowned in face, hardened in muscle.
brave. and not afraid to encounter any peril
that could confront him, whose life was made
up of peril and all manner of dangers.

Captain Bayard’s first set after realizing that
he was really within the Haunted House was to
make sure again that both his weapons were at
instant command. One double-barrelsd pistol
was in his hip— ket, and the other, somewhat
smaller. was a his bosom. Both could be
matched forth at any moment needed.

The next natural move was to feel his way
around the room to learn something of his sur-
roundings. The result was the discovery that
the apartment was empty of everything exc t
himself. Nata piece 0 carpet, no chair or tab

 

was on the floor and the walls were bare of pic-i
tures and even nails.

While thus playing blind man’s but! he came
upon the only door leading outward. This
readily drew back, and with the same care he
had used from the first he groped his way into
the broad upper hall, into which the stairs from
the lower story led.

The young .Luilor found the head of the steps
without difliculty, and was in tlze art of de-
scending, when he was startled by the unmis-
takable sound of footsteps.

They were faint and soft, but his keen sense
of hearing, now strained to the highest tension,
told him that some one was coming up the steps
at the head of which he had halted.

“ It is a woman,” was his thought, ” and she
is walking in her slippers.”

The captain’s first impulse was to withdraw
into the room from which he had just come,
but, like it truly brave man, he decided to stay
where he was, wildly hoping that the mystery
that had brought him thither might be on the
eve ol.‘ solution.

Accordingly, be pressed back against the wall
and waited and listened for the issue of the
strange adventure which seemed at hand.

 

CHAPTER IV.
A MEMENTO or THE PAST.

NEAREIL and nearer came that soft, fairy-like
step, his heart fluttering with strange emotions,
at the belief that some beauiilul girl was ap-
proaching, and in a few seeiinds Would be with-
in reach of his band, as he stood with his back
against the wall.

“If she discovers my presence,” he thought,
when he knew from the sounds that she was
near the head of the stairs, “what will take
place?”

Heheld his breath, as she glided still closer,
only afraid that the tumultuous beating of his
own heart Would betray him.

A feeling like a faint, electric shock passed
through him, when a rustling, silken dress cold
and smooth, brushed his hands, and be new
that he had but to raise his arm to inclose the
body of the mysterious creature in the dark-

ness.

But the faint footfall continued. She had
passed and was moving along the hall toward
the room he had left a few minutes before.

In that crucial moment, he became aware of
a faint, delicious perfume such as had once
stolen away his senses in the Orient, and,
whether it was fancy or not, he saw a dim,
tremulous light that served to blind, rather
than to add to his power of vision.

With all his faculties keyed to the highest
point, he awoke to the fact that the faint, pa“-
tering footfalls were heard no lon er.

Where the unknown had gone. 0 could not
conjecture. He had heard no doors opened or
shut, and the only sounds besides the footfalls
were the “silken, sad, uncertain rustling” of
her garments as she seemed to float past.

Perhaps she had paused just be 0nd arm's
reach, where she cou d hear the sllg test move-
ment on his part. This dread held him motion-
less for several minutee, but the continued still-
ness convinced him that she had vanished from
the upper hall more strangely than she had on-
tered it.

With this belief came back something of his
old courage, which for a brief interval had de-
parted. He determinedtocontinue his explora-
tions. ,

Accordingly, with arms outstretched, he felt
his way along the upper hall in the direction
whence the unknown lady had disappeared.
The floor here was likewise uncarpeted, and,
despite all the care he could use, he knew that
every step he took could be heard by anv person
within the house, no matter where located.

In this manner he passed several pM'eB beyond
the entrance which admitted him to the ball,
when he made another singular discovery.
From beneath a door on the other side of the

ease eway issued several pencils of light, plain-
yvis ble to the young captain, who once more
halted and listened.

“ I’m bound to see this through,” he said to
himself, as he gently struck his knuckles on the
door; “she must have entered here, and my
curiosity about her cannot be baffled.”

is experience was the same as when he an-
nounced his presence by means of the heavy
knocker on the outside door. His ted sum-
mons, each time louder than before, brou is no
response, and with more misgi than n the
former instance he raised the late and shoved
the door iuw . Y
As he did so, hedmwbaek‘damdaudly,“

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4

 

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

 

 

 

he saw on theinstant that he had invaded the
privacy of a lady's chamber!

The one busty glance cast around the apart-
ment showad the lofty, old-fashioned bedstead,
with its towering headboard, dark and quaintly
carved; the snowy linen and coverlets; the
heavy stand protected by spotless linen, fringed
at the borders; a huge trunk, chairs, pictures,
dresses and all the various paraphernalia. that
go to make up a. lady’s wardrobe, outfit and
conveniences, and which left no possible doubt
of the sex of the occupant.

Captain Bayard saw also the small lamp burn-
ing in the corner, at the instant he closed the
door, with the feeling that nothing could justify
intrusion on his part, after discovering the un—
fortunate art he had played.”

“I didnt see her,”was his thought, “but,
whoever she is, she is certainly no more of a dis-
embodied spirit than I am.”

A few steps further and the mystified ex—
plorer found himsalf at the head of the stairs,
theisame broad incline up which the mysterious
lady had come.

“ My gracious!” he muttered, as he began de-
scending the steps, “ my boots make a hundred
times more racket than she did.”

At the bottom of the stairs, down which he
guided himself by means of the smooth halus-
trade, he again caught the glimmer of light, this
time coming from beneath a door on the right
of thejlower hall.

Without hesitation the sailor shOVed this open
and passed into the large sitting-room of the
Haunted House. It had high ceilings, bare
walls, and uncarpeted floor, the only articles of
fur iture being several plain, high-hacked
cha rs, and a cumbersome lounge that was
drawn diagonally in front of the fireplace, as if
f rthe accommodation of some late visitant.

Upon t'heohearthstone were burning several
knots of wood, with a pile at one side for replen-
is'hing the blaze, which threw an uncertainflick-

eriug light through the room. The latter faced

the rear of the house, and had two windows
Opening out on the desolate stretch of lawn,
grown over with gnarled, untrimmed trees,
smothered with vines and scrubby under-
wth, all forming as dreary an outlook as can

e imagined.

Captain Bayard, standing in the middle of the
room with folded arms, took in the strange sur-
roundings.

“This is an adventure,” he mused; “and I
wonder that my mum are not more unstrung
than they are. I am sure few would stand it as
well as I— Helloa i”

This exclamation was caused by the sight of
afolded piece of paper lying just beneath the
lounge. Something startlingly familiar caused
him to draw it forth and read:

“$1,000 REWARD!

Will be given by me for the capture of Burd
Bayard, in addition to the same reward offered
by the authorities of Maryland. He is believed
to be in hiding somewhere in this county,
awaiting a favorable opportunity to escape
therefrom.
“ The said Burd Bayard is about twenty
ears of age, with clean shaven face, nose slight-
y aquiline, dark, curling hair, dark eyes, regu-
lar teeth, of winning address, and manners,
about five feet ten inches in height, very active,
powerful and muscular, and when last seen was
dressed in black clothing of a fashionable out.
“All good citizens will aid the cause of jus-
tice by helping to apprehend this criminal,
ilty of the crime of murder of the most shock-
ng nature. The above reward will be paid by
me upon his delivery to the proper authorities,
to whomsoever may be entitled to the same. the
entire reward awaiting the capture of the crimi-
nal being two thousand dollars.

“ LLOYD HAVEN.”

This was the handbill, embellished with star-
ing capitals and exclamation points which, four
years before had been pasted through that and
the adjoining counties, and which had sent Burd
Bayard skul ing and dodging and running from
his native State, when, but for the help of a few
tried friends, he would have suflered capital
punishment.

, The young man stared at the paper for a min-
ute with curious interest, and then, crumpling
it in his hands, flung it into the fire.

“A fugitive for t e crime which God knows
never so much as entered my thoughts!” be ex-
claimed bitterly, as he watched the pa r blaze
and burn, “ and yet I was environed n such a
network that those whom I trusted told me I
could not escape the gallows if caught, so I fled,
believing time would make known my innocence

 

and bring all things right. But the years have
come and gone, and that reward still awaits him
who captures me. I am running my neck into
the halter by coming back to the neighborhood
of The Cedars, but who cares?” he suddenly de-
manded in bitterness of spirit, as he looked
defiantly around. “ Some one has done me an
unpardonahle Vi rang, and sooner or later the
truth shall be known. I always believed Col-
onel Haven knew the secret. and that it was he
who lent himself to the crime, but he has gone
to judgment and after all he may have been in-
nocent, and some one else moved the diabolical
machinery.”

CHAPTER V.
SPIRIT TONES.

IN the midst of his bitter thoughts Captain
Bayard became aware of a. sound overhead, as
if made by a person walking back and forth. It
was heavier than the steps which first caught
his attention, but the noise suddenly ceased, and
the same light, fairy footfalls came from the
stairs. \

“ She is coming here—I shall meet her face to
face,” was his thrilling thought, as he turned to-
ward the door. “ I will try to explain and apol-
ogize for my rudeness.”

He waited until the stranger seemed to have
reached a point just outside the entrance, when
she paused. Afraid she might escape him again,
the sailor stepped quickly forward and pushed
open the door.

The light from the hearth lit up the ball, so
that every object within it became distinctly
visible, but not a living person was in sight!

Bayard was dumfounded, and for the first
time a. creeping sensation passed over his body
from head to feet. The inclination was strong
to ties in a panic from the building, but he
quickly rallied. ,

d “ I set out to stay here all _night, and I shall
0 it."

With the same desperate resolve that had
brought him within the Haunted House he threw
himself on the lounge, grimly determined that
whatever should come should not frighten him
from that room. He was well-armed and not
afraid to face any possible danger that might
threaten him.

As nearly as he could judge in his tumultuous
emotions he had lain thus a half-hour, with no
sound in his ears but the lonely sighi of the
night-wind without and the flicker an rustle
of the blaze on the hearth. Unawareto himself,
slumber was beginning to steal away his senses,
and he was hovering on the border-land of ob-
livion when he caught the sound of music, so
sweet, so heavenly that, fully awakened, he
still lay like one in a trance, fearful of stirring,
lest he should break the spell and check the an-
gelic strains.

At first they were so faint and airy that he
believed they were caused by the wind, which
had found a tongue among the sprepding
branches and climbing ivy, but it was too gen-
uinely musical to be born of any such source as
that.

There was a peculiar sinkin and rising at
first, that suggested a wind- a suspended
overhead, but as he listened he came con-
vinced that it had another source—one that he
dared not conjecture.

The feeling that came over the heart of the

sailor as he listened to this faint, airy music was
that of inexpressible sadness. As {soon as the
first soft, wavering sound resolved itself into a
voice of mm proachable pathos and subtlety of
expression, e felt a yearning to lie quiescent
until life itself should be wooed from his
bod .
Then, when the spirit tones Were dying out,
far in the air above him, tremulous on the verge
of utter extinction for a moment, and as the
rapt soul was in despair, the music madeu sweep
downward, like the plunge of a l“ . from the
heights of ether into the air of .2 again, fill-
ing and overpowering the son. Wain]. such sweet,
nose that it seemed to the s; all-bound sailor that
he was losing himself, his consciousness, his
identity, his soul in the glory that throbbed to
the very center of his being.

Through all this marve ous dallying with the
enchained senses Burd Bayard was sensible of a
strange, . unaccountable familiarity with the
music. Somewhere, in the shadowy past, he
had heard something of the same nature; some-
where, something had stirred emotions akin to
those which possessed him now. But when and
where?

Was it in the silent watches of the night,
when, leaning over the gunwale of the Albatross,

 

as she glided across the moonlit Pacific, impelled
by the favoring trade-wind that had wafteui her
for weeks on her voyage, he gazed upon the
phosphorescent glimmer of the vusty deo. i

as it amid the fruity groves of the Spice Isl-
ands where the strange odors caused the senses
to swoon, or was it on the dusky plains of India,
when listening to the weird music of the native
maidens, or when he watched the perfumed
lamps floating down the Ganges at eventide?
Or was it the dream-like memory of themother's
lullabv that had soothed him to rest in his in-
fancy? Was it the spirit voice of that sainted
mother. gone from earth years bef: r -. come to
chfser his weary soul with :the music of the an-
ge ?

Never once was be able to detect anything
bearing even a. remote resemblance to words in
these enrapturing strains, which seemed to be
not within, though near the house, but floating,
sinking, swelling, trembling, d ing out far in
the air above him, tantalizing t e senses, as did
the sirens when they lured the navigators to
ruin and death. '

But now the music was coming closer! It
grew more and more pOWerful, never once los-
ing its ravishing, tremulous, soul-possessin na-
ture until when it seemingly had entere
room, it stopped!

As it did so, Burd Bayard sprung upright,
quivering in every limb.

He had solved the myseeryl Memory had
told him when and where that same music had
enchanted him in the years gone by. Ay, he
knew itl he knew itl The whole marvelous
truth had burst upon him like the overwhelming
avalanche.

“ Muriel! Muriel .’ will you not come to me?”
he§wailed, stretching forth his arms into the
empty air. "I have returned to you from the
other side of the world ; let me iufold you to my
heart as I did in the past."

In his yearnin , imploring sorrow, he expect—
ed his loved and cat to rush to his embrace; but
the gloom gave no token and 'he staggered back
like a drunken man ready to sink unconscious to
the floor.

A new terror was at his heart. Brave and
practical as he was, he had been fearfully tried
by the events of the night, and he found despite
all his reasoning and self-argument, that there is
none of us who has not somewhere down in his
heart a chord, which if swept by the proper
hand, yields a responsive tone to the super-
natnra . '

“ The servant said she was not seen after the
funeral of her father," he murmured, standing
with his back to the fire, and looking gloomin
through the open door into the dark h'iil be-
yond. “ Then she must be dead—go: e fr .m the
earth months ago—and it was her spirit floating
in the air around me that answered to the

earnings of my soul. Why should I stay here
anger—

He paused, for at that moment a slight noise
at one of the windows caught his attention,
and turning his head, he saw—

What?

 

CHAPTER Vi.
“ ons—rwo—rnnnn i”

STANDING within the lar a room in the
Haunted House, with his bac to the blazing
wood on the hearth, Captain Burd Bayard turn-
ed his glance toward one of the windows where
he had heard a slight noise.

As he did so he saw a mu, shadowy form,
hearing some resemblance to the human figure,
but of a gigantic hight and a dim, misty ap-
peairance suggestive of the mysterious, the ter-
rib e.

It was not in the apartment but outside, star-
ing through the window at this daring intruder
of the Haunted House. No sound came from
it. 1101' could anything more than the irregular
outline of the figure be distinguished. The head
a peered to be hooded, with a cloak gathered
a at and shrouding the shoulders, the arms
and face either hid entirely from view or too
diml lighted by the smoldering fire to be dis-
cern his. The head of this Thin was near the
top of the upper sash, so that, al owing for the
height of the window from the round, it must
have been far taller than the ta est human be-

InThis apparition, greeting Ga tain Bayard at
the moment his nerves were so ghly wroeizfiht,
caused him to recoil with an awestruck f ng
and instinctively to look around for some way

of escape.
But on the int of leaping toward the door
he rallied, an be scanned the Thing with a

the '

 

 

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Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

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curiosity akin to that of Doctor Hazeltine earlier
in the evening.

“ I have heard a good deal," said the captain.
laying his hand on the pistol at his hip; “and
it is now time I saw something. There it is,
sure enough i”

Stirring the fire with his foot, be filled the
room with a brighter glow, but found when
icoking toward the figure that it had gained
nothing more than an additional distinctness of
outline.

Up to this moment it was motionless, as if it
Were a picture of the night painted against the
window-panes; but the sailor now observed
something like a movement on the part of the
hooded figure as if it Were trying vainly t'i lift
its arm beneath the cloak. The vague motion
continued until the right arm was freed from
the strangling folds, and then the gesture be-
came a warning one, consisting of a slow, wav-
ing motion made by raising and lowering the
arm several times.

Bayard did not know, nor did he care. what
meaning the apparition was seeking to convey.
He felt in an ugly mood, and. but for the dread
of killing some misernhle fool who was trying
to play upon his fears, he would have sent the
contents of his pistol into the figure.

“I'll give him warning,” he concluded con-
scious of a deepening of his own resentment;
“and, if he don’t heed it. he must take the con-
se uencesanditwill be his Own fault.” ‘

he captain was an admirable pistol-shot,
and, at that distance could plant nineteen bul-
lets out of twenty into a space an inch square.

V He knew the Thing was at his mercy.

Leveling his larger weapon, he said: .

“I’ll {(1% you just one minute to leavo. and,
if you don’t, I’ll put a bullet through you.”

The form became as motionless as himself.

“I give you warning,” added the captain, “if
you "don’t depart before I count three, I’ll

re. .

All this time the arm of the sailor was extend-
ed, painting like the finger of fate straight at
the apparition, which was as motionless as the
wunpou itself.

Captain Bayard proved his deadly earnest-
ness the next moment.

“ One! Two! Three!”

The last word was hardly uttered, when crack
went the pistol, and the jingle of grass left no
dowbt whither the bullet had gone.

The sailor looked to see an upthrowing of the
arms. to hear the appalling shriek, as the shroud-
ed figure threw itself. dying. to the ground; but
it stood as immovable as the trunk of the oak a
few paces beyond, and with the fractured win-
dow'pane showing that the bullet had pierced
a: glass exactly in front of where the face had

11.

“I hit it!” Whispered Bayard to himself,
“ but it is unharmed! It must be that disem-
bndled spirits do return to earth! This house is
haunted! The crime that stained its walls was
 dreadful to allow itselfto be forgotten!

The apparition was now seen to he oscillating
again. but slowly sinking downward, as if about
to disappear into the earth.

The sailor kept his eyes riveted, on it, until the
head had passed below the line of sight, when
he dashed forward and threw up the sash.

It has gone as utterly. a though it never
existed! But where. he could not guess. It had
sunk downward, but below the captain’s eyes
there was nothing, so far as he could judge, that
could conceal anything of that nature. ’

“ Never was my hand steadier nor my aim
iru -r.” said the sailor, “ and the Thing was hit
fairly 'yet was not harmed."

He walked moodily back to the fire, reloading
the barrel, so that he had three shots at his com-
mand. and than debated with himself what was
the best thing to do.

The burning embers behind him fell apart.
and the wind mound and sighed outside, but
the wondrous music hadlong since ceased.

“ I wonder, whether it has left for good, or
will it makeanother Call—”

Could he believe his senses?

There stood the ghostly viSth. lull: as he
had seen it a short time befofl. but it was new
in frontof the other-window. It was swaying
more violently than at the first appearance.
with a waltz like movement, as is? seeking to

' tantalize the spectator, who began to feel an

emotion akin to genuine fear. \.
"l‘iltry it again!”he muttered,’bringing his
weapon to a level, “and I’ll give it the benefit
of a warning the so me as before.” >
It was one! two! three! and the bang and
iingle of glass. with the certainty that the bul-

 

at bed sped straight to its mark. The oscillat- ,'

ing movement lasted a minute or two and then
the phantom seemed this time to float ofl.‘ and
upward in the air, vanishing like a feather borne
by a strong wind.

CliptainBiyard stood awhilehwith smoking
pistol in hand, staring at the second window-
sash, as if strving to make sure whether he was
dreaming or awake.

He had surely seen enough to unnerve the
bravest 111‘") that ever confronted danger. He
had expected. when he entered the upper win-
dow of the Haunted Home, to undergo some
singular experiences, but he nevar thought it
ppssihle that anything like this could take

ace.

He had set out with the striingeresolve to pene-
trate the mystery of. a hundred years and had
been bullied at every point. At the very mo-
ment when, assured in hi" own heart that he had
solved the wonderful secret, he was confronted
by a new danger which lauxhed him to scorn.

It was a danger, too, which he felt himself
unequal to face. He had been met and con-
quered.

“That man in a madman who fights against
fate,” he concluded, seizing his but from the
lounge, and shovin the half-discharged pistol
back in his pocket. hen, throwing up the win-
dow, he leaped out upon the ground, and, with
out pausin to recover his heavy cane, or so
muchasto 00k behind him, hurried ofl', heed-
less of the directon he was pursuing.

 

CHAPTER VII.
a STRANGE MEETING.

As mi ht be expected, when Captain Bayard
left the aunted House in such blind haste, he
took the wrong course. Every step led him
further from the main high vay, which he
meant to follow. to Buzzard’s Roost, thence to
sail for some distant port, never to return to
his native land again.

Not until he found himself on the border of
an extensive and deep wood. did he pause and
look around him. The air had grewn cooler.
and something of his old assurance came back
to him.

“ I wonder where  am?" he mused, looking
about and strivmg in vain to recognize some
familiar landmark. “ When I was a. boy, it
would have been impossible to lose me within
twenty miles of Buzzard’s Roost, but I believe
I’m beyond soundings now. ‘

" However,” he added, “ I can’t be so far 1051:
that I won't find my way back pretty soon.
told the boys to wait for me at the tavern. and
by this time they are in such a condition that
I’llnhave hard work getting them to the schoon-
er. '

The gloomy seafarer was walking slowly
along, when he emerged into a small clearing.
large enough, however, to be lit up by the light
of the moon. As he naturally paused. be ob-
served theta figure on the other side had also
halted,and doubtless from the same cause—rm.
si ht of astranger. ‘

Vith an astonishment which perhaps may be
imagined, he recognized the other as a young
lady, who was coming directly toward him.

She was attired in a light, fleecy dress. with
a white shawl drawn about her shoulders and
no covering for her head. The hair. fine, silken
and extraordinarily luxuriant. descended far
below her waist, spreading out and inclosing
her figure like au_ Astrachan robe, while the
pale and wonderfufly beauteous face Ptartled
Captain Bayard. who half suspected that one of
the spirits from the Haunted House had follow-
ed him into the wood. ,

Perhaps a dozen feet separated the young
persons when they recognized each other at the
same moment.

In a low, tremulous voice be pronounced the
name: ,

“ Maria! I” ,

For one instant she looked at him without
speaking, and then a strange quivering seized
her slight frame. She covereo her face with
her hands and seemed on the point of sinking to
the earth, when he sprung ferward in time to
save her. He gently drew the small white
hands from before the countenance and gazed
at the marvel of beauty, while she. raisi her
eyes. tremulous with love and melting wit af-
fection and sorrow, asked: . .

“On, Burd! have you come back from the
grave—at last—at last?”

And/yet. though their lips had met hundreds
of times, and though his headmimost touched
hers. he simply held her in his arms. both
weighed down by a grief such as few mortals
are called upon to bear.

“ I heard you call me," she said, “ but they

   

 

would not let me go to you; but I watched and
saw which way you went and f0110wed you.”

“And who are ‘they’ that you speak of?"
asked Captain Bayard.

She shuddered as she answered:

" Don’t ask me again; I cannot tell you.”

“ I will not, dearest; think no more about it.
but tell me why you followed my footsteps.”

“ Because I heard you call me; why did you
do so?” , ' ‘

“I can hardly tell; my experience in that
house is like some wild dream; I thought it was
your spirit that had returned to me."

“Tell me, Burd, where you have been all
those long years since you went away.”

“ On that dreadful night when l fled liken.
hare before the bounds, a few friends steed by
me and helped me out of the country. You
know I had been on the sea before. and my Hill
was of great, assistance to me. I got along so
Well that more than a year ago 1 was given
Command of the Albatross. Ithought whenI
left in such haste that [ never would want to.
set eyes on Buzzard‘s Roost again, for l have
no living relatives; but the (ii-sire to learn some-
thing about the people. and especially about
you, led me to thrust my neck into the halter
again.” '

“ And when did you come?” she asked. raising
these wonderful eyes of hers and looking him
straight in the face.

“I smiled up the Chesapeake yesterday, and
anchored ofl’ Buzzaru’s Recst a short tune be-
fore sunset. Ou my way, I met Pompey, the
servant, and Dr. Hazeltine, from whom I learn-
ed that Colonel Haven had been dead more than
six months.”

“ Yes," replied Muriel, “ he died with his arms
around my neck and whispering words of love
inm ear.”

“ “hen all was forgotten and—forgiven i”

“ I am not so sure,” she replied with singular
calmness. “ A part of the time his mind wan-
dered and he appeared to forget about the-—
trouble, and believed that he and I wereos we
were before it came upon us. I strove to recall
it to him, for I could not bear to have him do-
part with any feeling of harshness in his heart
toward me; but the years were forgotten and
he called me ‘Baby Muriel.’ just as he used to
do when I was a little child and he held me on
his knee. He thought I had come to him for
my embrace and good-night, as I always did
until that trouble.”

The maiden’s own sentences recalled so vivid-
ly that l-ist scene of all that she was overcome
and unable to speak for some minutes. Captain
Bayard still held her in his arms, and he uttered
soothing words until she became herself again.

“Forgive me, Muriel, but I am anxious to
know all. Was there no time during his dying
moments when he mentiOned toe trouble between
he? Di-i he make no reference'to moi”

"Yes; a few seconds of light seemed to glim-
mer on him and he pronounced your name, but
alas! it was with no feeling of forgiveness. and
I cannot help thinking that. had his mind re-
mained clear, he would have spurned me also
from him.”

“ You are wrong,” urged the captain, anxious
to remove this dreadful doubt from the heart of
the daughter; “ it was his aflection for you that
could be restrained no longer. Let no such mis-
take enter your thoughts. But,” added the
young man, in a sterner voice, as he ently re-
leased the willowy form, “as it is, have no
right to hold you in such fond embrace. I had
hoped. in spite of Dr. Hassltine’s hard words.
that all might have been made clear to Colonel
Haven before he departed, and that he had
withdrawn his harsh condemnation of an inno-
cent mau. It has been said that the last min-
utes of a person’s life are sometimes divinel
illuminated that the mists clear from h
vision and he is permitted to see things as the
are, but Colonel Haven died with his
clouded 09—”

Captain Bayard hesitated to utter the bitter
words in his soul. He rebelled against the great
wrong he had suffered, but he must spare the
stricken child, who stood leoking at him with
the same frightful calmness of face and manner
she had displayed during most of this It
interview. This unnatural quiet alarmed a ,
lover. who resolutely forced back the hot word!
strukgli for utterance. Then she spoke: r

“ He he ieved you guilty; mother believed you
guilty. but I never or a second suspected you;

not that enough i”

“ No,” he replied flex-eel ; " what avail is that

tome? You have held t 'a same faith always, , , ‘ 

but the insurmountable barrier renains. It is
an impassable gulf!” he added, pointing to the
ground between them.

 

 

 

  

6

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

 

 

The sailor breathed fast and hard. With
' g eyes and heaving chest, he struck his
forehead.

“ Oh, God, am I always to be an Ishmael, with
every man’s hand against me? Are those who
have crushed me to the earth to be allowed to
keep me forever in torture and disgrace? Will
Heaven always withhold the avenging hand 6”

And he looked up at the cloudless sky, With
its Pale moon gazing down, as it seemed, with
something like reproof at the blasphemous
thoughts of the smitten man.

Then, as he turned and his eyes rested on the
bowed form before him, a gentler feeling stole
into his heart.

“Forgive if you can, Muriel, my harsh and
reckless words.”

She was silent a moment and then looked up,
her countenance unnaturally pale and calm, and
without a tear in the lustrous eyes.

“ If I have anything to forgive, it is forgiven.
When you left me, in the night, I knew of few.
besides myself who did not believe your guilt.
Never doubting, I resolvad not to rest until the
whole dark mystery was cleared up and you
Were justified before the world. For a year I
scarcely paused; then there came another ca-
lamity, whose memory makes me shudder, for it
came to me—to mel” she whispered, with a wild,
terrified look. “I fought against it, and prayed
a merciful Heavsn to turn it aside, but God
willed otherwisel”

Captain Bayard was startled and begged her
to desist.

“ Say no more—ea no more. Too much has
already been said! understand your reference
and want no other explanation. I can neVer
blame you so much as in thought. The night is
waning; let us leave this spot l”

They walked a few minutes in silence, her arm
resting in his, while she instinctively acted as
the guide for him who had wandered from the
right course.

Captain Bayard’s lips were compressed, and a
hard resolution was forming in his heart.

“ We must part forever,” be said, with super-
human calmness. “ I have learned from your
own lips that your mother holds the same be-
lief that your father carried into the grave.
The chasm can never be closed in this world. I
shall strive to lead such a life that we shall be
reunited beyond the stars. My spirit has often
revolted, but that is past. The ways of Provi-
dence are beyond our ken, but no murmur shall
be heard from me.”

uriel Haven seemed on the point of saying
something, but, with a courage which few of her
sex possessed, she refrained. Reaching a nar-
row th, he took the lead, with her walking
close hind him.

“ I must bid her fareWell,” he reflected, as he
walked slowly forward, “and for the last time
touch my lips to hers."

Reaching the end of the path, at the border of
lhe wood, he turned to offer his arm.

But she had vanished!

CHAPTER VIII.
“1 SURRENDER!”

CAPTAIN Bonn Baraan waited several min-
utes, hoping that Muriel, wrapped in deep
thought, might have fallen unconsciously be-
hind, but he soon became convinced that she
had fled, doubtless impelled to do so through a
wish to esca the last painful parting.

“She di well,” be reflected, resuming his
moody walk, now that he had located himself,
and knew the right course to take to reach the
hi hway to Buzzard’s Roost. “There was no

i for more words. The great obstacle to our
union can never be removed. I took care to
make no hint to her of another cause, for it
would have broken her gentle heart, and I pray
she ma never suspect it."

Ah, ut the sweet Muriel Haven had not
glyisuspected, but she knew the truth from the

t

 

s
" Well,” added the young sailor captain, rouso

lug himself and look ng around, “ they must be

expecting me on the Albatross.” '

As he moved across the field. he observed
that the night was nearly at an end. The
dismal Haunted House loomed throu h the
early morning mists, and it was har , even
then. to recall his remarkable experience within
its walls without believing the events were only
some grisly phantasmagoria of the overwrou ht
brain. But he resolutely shut out all
tion of the mysteries, knowing they were eyond
his knowledge, and doubtless would always re-
1(t.‘ ;ii an, 1

Funny; his thou hts on the Albatross and the
duties awaiting h in there, he strode rapidly for-

 

ward, until he cgme to a familiar point where
two roads met. There the first object on which
his eyes rested was another of those flaming
pesters headed:

" $1,000 REWARD l”

“ What does that mean ’i” he exclaimed, with
a recoil of wrathful resentment. “That was
printed four years ago. It must have been
put up since I came to Buzzard’s Roost last
night!”

Assured on this point, Captain Bayard now
gave his thoughts to the personal peril that
threatened him—a peril not only of the most
serious nature, but one that was deepening every
minute.

He reflected that a dozen hours had passed
since his meeting with Doctor Hazeltine—time
sufficient for the irate physician to set the ma-
chinery of the law in motion. Pompey may have
recognized him, and, though he was a friend,
yet he was not bright-witted, and may have be-
trayed the secret without thought of the grave
consequences to him.

He had no wish to stand trial when, accord-
ing to every earthly possibility, he was sure of
conviction and a disgraceful death. He felt it
his duty to take every precaution against cap-
ture.

As he walked along the road, therefore, in
the gray of the early morning, he was on the
alert for enemies. Filled with misgiving, he
came opposite to the old mansion known as The
Cedars; but, without pausing, he hurried for-
ward to be confronted by another of the ter-
rible pesters, with its caption, “1,000 REWARD l”
which had sent him skurrying out of the neigh-
borhood years before.

“ This is getting more serious than I suspect-
ed,” he muttered, hesitating whether to take to
the fields and woods again.

The hand-bill seemed to grin at him like a de-
mon.

“My foes are busy,” he added, grinding his
teeth, “ but I am not yet taken.”

At that instants man leaped over the fence
beside him, and stopping short with a startled
glance, the captain placed his hand on the pisto
at his hip. 1

But it was Pompey, the negro, whose sable
face was the picture of distress.

“0h, Massa Bayard,.will you forgib me?” he
moaned, ready to sink to the earth.

“ Forgive you for what i” demanded the
sailor, suspecting the cause of the negro’s emo-

tinn.

“ Indeed I didn’t mean it! I didn’t t’ink ob itl
Will you please forgib me?”

“How can I forgive you unless you tell me
what you mean? Out with it, Pompey.”

“ We], do way ob it war dis way: when 1
met you last night I wouldn’t hab knowed you,
if it warn’t dst you had your whiskers OR at
fu’st, den you done forgot and spoke like your-
self; den I knewed dat it war you. When I got
home and see’d some ob de boys, I kinder forgot
myself and ae’dent’ly let it drop dat I had see’d
yersclf. And dar war Pete—he just slid out,
and I didn’t t’ink what be war arter till he war
gone, and I started to head him off; but he war
too fur from de house fur mote cotch him till I
see’d him talkin’ wid Doctor dazeltine, and den
I knowed it war all up. I war so mad at my-
self fur lettin’ out do secret dat I kicked myself
all do way back to de house. I spent all night
lookin’ fur yer, so dat I might tell yer, but I
didn’t cotch sight oh yer till dis blessed minute,
and, oh, Massa Bayard, you must run—and do
you forgib me?"

“ Certainly, Pompey; you meant no wrong,
aad here’s another dollar for your kindness.”

The negro caught tne coin tossed to him, and
his tears gave way to smiles as he turned about,
muttering:

“ If anybody axes me ’bout you, I’ll tell him
he’s a liar and frow stones at him, and don’t for-
git to hurry, Masser Bayard.”

Bidding the servant good-by, the sailor re-
sumed his walk down the highway in the direc-
tion of Buzzard’s Roost. the canvietion strong
upon him that he would be unable to reach the
little town without trouble.

“ There’s one thing certain,” he said, to him-
self, “ it won’t do for me to keep in the main
road, for there’s just where they wil i be hunt-
ing for me. It won’t do, either, to make my
way back to the Albatross, unless I do so se-
cretl , for they will be watching her. If 1
soul only get word to Mate Simmons and have
him drop down the bay several miles and wait
till dark it would be easy enough to manage it,
but it will be as hard to efl'ect an understanding
with him as to escape. unless I should run
against'one of the boys.”

 

 

But the only placeto meet a member of his
crew was at the tavern in Buzzard’s Roost, and,
to go there, would be to walk into the lion’s
den. He decided, therefore, to continue down
the highway a short distance further, since no
persons were in sight, and then to make his way
to the shore at a point below the little county
town.

If unable to communicate by signal with his
vessel, he would wait until night and then swim
out to it. It was not likely the officers of the
law had as yet boarded the craft, and he would
keep close enough watch to discover any such
action.

In the event of the officers visiting the Al-
batross, of course he would take good care to
give the schooner a wide berth and rely on other
means to get out of the country.

Accordingly, he kept his course for a quarter
of a mile further, when he found himself close
to a small stretch of woods. The sound of hoofs
caused him to dart among the trees, where he
peeped furtively out at a c0uple of horsemen, as
they rode by on a walk.

“ They are looking for me,” was his thought,
“ and the hunt will be a hot one.”

Unfortunately the woods, as has been stated,
were of moderate extent, and he had not gone
far when he emerged into an open meadow,
where he paused to make sure of his bearings.

Standing thus, he was on the point (if mov-
ing forward, once more, when there was a sud-
den cracklin and thrashing of the under-

rowtli, and ully a dozen men, all armed with
oodled guns, seemed to spring from the very
eart .

“ I guess you’re the chap we’re looking for,”
called out the leader, leveling his rifle; “ throw
up your hands!”

“ I surrender,” answered Bayard, seeing all
hope was gone.

 

CHAPTER IX.
COUNSELOR AND CLIENT.

CAPTAIN BAYABD wondered at his own tame
submission when summoned to surrender. A
few minutes before he was filled with an angry
resentment which would have insured a fight
to the death before yielding; but at the mo-
ment of the summons, a relapse came over!
him, and he felt as though, having vainly hat-
tlled fate so long, it was useless to struggle fur-
t er.

He was safely lodged in the county jail at
Buzzard’s Roost, and his captors received the
full amount of the reward offered, the widow
of Colonel Haven dpaying her portion with an
alacrity that won] have added Wormwood to
the bitter cup of the prisoner could he have seen
the act.

When word reached Mate Simmons of what
had taken place, the anchor of the Albatross
was hoisted. sail spread, and the sober citizens
of Buzzard’s Roost drew a breath of relief,
thanking fortune that they were rid of a set
of men who doubtless were pirates that had
stained their hands in the blood of scores of in-
nocent persons.

“ After his flight some years ago,” said the
delighted Dr. Hazeltine, while recounting the
part he had taken in the ca tnre, to the atten—
tive and pleased Widow even, “ word came
back that he had been drowned in a distant sea.
But I never believed it, for you know the say-
ing that the man who is born to be hanged will
never be drowned, and I was sure he would turn
up here again sooner or later. I kept a ood lot
of the colonel’s handhills to post up, w enever
the wretch’s fate should lead him hither. Jus-
tice is now sure to be done, for he is safe within
the county jail.”

“ When will his trial take lace i”

“ Court sits next week. an I understand his
trial will be among the first. There is no earth-
ly doubt of the result.”

“ Do you know whetherhe has engaged coun-
sell"

“Yes,” said the physician, frigidly; “II am
ashamed to say that my son has offered his Ser~

”

oes.

And yet, despite the words of the old doctor,
it was plain that no man was prouder of a son
than he was of that brilliant boy of his, who was.
admitted to the bar barely three years before,
and who had already made a reputation that
was known from one end of the State to the
0 er.

The doctor wanted Burd Bayard hanged, and
yet, if that bright youth of his should prove

smart enough to save his neck, the father, away .

down in his heart. would be the proudest parent.
in all Maryland

 

 

 

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

'7

 

 

 

Like a burst of sunshine came Fred Hazeltine
into the gloomy cell of the despairing Bard Bay-
ard. There was no resisting the contagion of
the handsome fellow’s resence. He nearly tum-
bled over the turnkey n his eagerness to greet
the friend whom (unknown to Doctor Hazeltine)
he had done so much to help out of the country,
four years before, when hounded by the ofiicers
of the law.

“ How are you, Burd, my old boy?" be ex-
claimed, slapping him on the shoulder and then
wringing his hand; “ I was at Annapolis when
[heard you were in limbo; you owe me for a
horse that i rode clean to death so as to get here
in time. Why don’t you tell me how you are,
old fellow i"

“ God bless you i” replied Captain Bayard,
with tears in his eyes, as he held up his mana-
cled hands; “ I didn‘t expect this.”

“ What’s the reason you didn‘t? What sort
of a fellow do you take me for?”

Then turning to the turnkey, he tnld him he
wished to be left alone with his client for an
hour. V: hen the sluggish (,ificiai was beyond
hearing, the young lawyer turned to his friend,
and his cheery way said:

“Now to business. Your trial will be called
within a fortnight, unless you want it post-
poned in order to hunt up witnesSes. I will
spend an hour or two each day with you, and
willl”work heart and soul to secure your acquit-
ta .

“ You won’t succeed,” said Captain Bayard,
looking quietly in the face of his friend. 'm

“ I won't it I don’t show more pluck than
you, but I'm in this business to win. Let‘s run
over the matter. To begin at the beginning,
f0ur years ago last month, Colonel Haven’s
overse r and his wife were found murdered in
their beds. The house, standing within a mile
of The Cedars, was robbed of a large amount
of money, the proceeds of a big tobacco sale in
Baltimore. Kirke Warman. the overseer, was
a harsh taskmaster, and suspicion pointed to the
slaves. A careful examination of the premises,
however, not only proved the innocence of the
servants, but showed that the terrible crime was
committed bya white man.

“ It was also discovered that an attempt had
been made to fire the place, for the purpose of
hiding alltraces of the crime, but the assassin
was scared of! before he could complete his
work. While the investigation was under way
two negroes of Colonel Haven declared they had
stolen away to Buzzard’s Roost that night with-
out a permit from the overseer, and were com-
ing back about midnight, when they recognized
your black stallion standingin front of the over-
seer’s house. Witha curiosity natural in such
people. they hid themselves near, and waited to
earn what it meant. You shortly after made
your up arance, mounted your horse and rode
away. hey were about to resume their return
to quarters, when the sight of smoke coming
from the house caused them to rush in and help
put out the flames. They succeeded in doing so
with eat difficulty. They saw nothing of the
dead ms, and supposed that the overseer and
his wife were absent from home.

“ The names of these two negroes were Pom-

y and Pete, who, without thought of involv-
ing you, told the story, which was afterward
proven true in every particular. They said, in
addition, that, while you were mounting your
horse, some man whom they did not kn0w, but
who carried a heavy Cane,,passed and saluted
you. You returned the salutation, but they did
not catch the name.

“ At, the inquest, this man voluntarily came
forward and asserted that what the negroes said
was strictly true. He stated that the moon was
shining so brightly that be recognised you be-
yond all possibility of mistake. His name was

osiah Brigham, a resident 0! Buzzard’s Roost,
who had known you from childhood, and who
has the reputation of being one of the most con-
scientious men in the country. He gave his tes-
timony with great emotion.

“The nefroes' uncorroborated story, as you
know, wou d have done you little harm, but it
was what Mr. Brigham told. confirmed by what
followed. Suspicion minted so strongly to you
that {Pu w." W , in bed at the Golden
Boar avern. There was blood on your hands
and clothing and a large sum of money in your
possession. Your confusion and contradictory
explanations removed all doubts of guilt, exce t
on the part of a few of your devoted frien s,
among whom of course was myself.

“ Colonel Haven became a volcano of wrath,
because you were engaged in marriage to his
daughter. He would have favored lynching

on, and swore that he would spend his entire ' dar
ortune in bringing you to justice. I was hope-

 

ful that if the trial could be delayed until the
excitementcalmed down, or if a change of venue
could be secured. a way might open to establish
your innocence despite the awful proof against
you.

“ But matters looked so bad that a few of us
helped you to escape, Pompey being one of the
number. He has managed to keep the secret
through fear that, if it should be discovered, he
would be hanged in your place.

“ Well, all that was four years ago, and you
got safely away, only to come back and allow
yourself to be arrested. Have I given the nar-
rative correctly i”

“ Without the slightest error.
conclusion, Fred?”

“ I do not see the first ray of hope.”

CHAPTER X.
“P. L. M.”

CAPTAIN Bonn BAYARI) stared at the young
counsMor in amazement.

" You tell me there is not a ray of hope, and
yetinsist on making a fight for me? I do not
understand, such logic.”

Fred i-iazeltine made the cell ring with his
merry laughter.

“ l) m’t be in such a hurry to jump to conclu-
sions. I repeat what 1 said, that, as matters
stand, I see no hope at all, but I believe we
shall both 8090 it before long. I assure you, on
my honor, that I believe some way Will open for
clearing up this mystery, and of saving a man
whonis as innocent of that particalar crime as I
am.

“ I want to know, Fred, whether you belieVe
fully, unreservedly, unshakenly, in my inno~
cence.”

“Never have I had a. moment’s doubt, my
dear fiallOw I”

Captain Bayard extended his hand, saying in
a broken voice:

“That is worth a good deal. I thank you
from my very soul! Your faith has renewed
the prayer for life within me.”

“You shall come from the furnace without
the smell of fire on your garments. and then
shall you be happy with Muriel Haven, the
most beauteous and lovely maid in all Maryland
-—an angel on earth, Burd, if anything human
can be angelic.”

Burd Bayard shook his head.

"‘ {lad Colonel Haven been spared to see my
vindwiition, it might be, but he died without
recalling the prohibition he uttered long be-
fore." _
“ Did it have no condition?”

“None, and with that prohibition hanging
over us, his daughter can never become my
wife.” '

Fred Hazeltine sprung up and raced rapidly
back and forth across the narrow cell. A new
suspicion and a new train of thought had taken
shape in his mind, caused by the 13“ remark Of
his friend. But the hour had not yet come to
name it.

He resumed his seat.

“ Let us keep to the point, Burd. You will see
that ,the case could not be much stronger against

on.

“So strong, indeed, that .to me it is hope-
less ’3

What is your

 

“ Not so bad as that, by any means. Now, old
fellow, I want you to give me your version of
that woful night. I must have everything fixed
so clearly in my mind that there is no room for
the slightest error.”

“ Well,” said the prisoner, with a High. “ my
story is a brief one. On that night I rode along
the road toward Buzzard’s Roost at a later hour
than usual. My horse was on a slaw walk, the
moon was shining brightly, and at the moment
I came opposite the overseer's house I thought I
heard a groan. My stallion showed some. un-
easiness, and, thinking help might be needed, I
dismounted‘ tied him at the gate and knocked
at the door. There was no answer. and all was
still. I was about to leave, when I decided to
look further. and, lifting the latch, entered.

“Everything was dark. and, though I spent
some time in graping round the room, I was un-
able to find a ight. I called the name of War-
man several times, but. after tumbling about
for a while, I concluded I had made a mistake
and came out, believing the ovsrseer and his
wife were away from home.

“ As I remounted my horse, Josiah Brigham
came along, preciselyas he testified, and bade
me good-evening. The negroes being in hiding,
I saw nothing of them. Igalloped back to the
Golden Boar, at Buzzard s Roost, turned my
horse over to the hostler, and went to bed in the

u i' feltsoill next morning thatI didn’t use.

 

 

and was in bed when arrested. Then, for the
first time, I noticed the blood on my hands and
clothing. It must have got there while Iwas
gro ing around the room of the overseer, in the
dar . You tell me there was evidence of a fear-
ful struggle in the house, and blood seemed to be
ever where.

“ was astounded, perhaps more than my oc-
cusers. and I have no doubt that, in the excite-
menc of the moment, I deepened suspicion by my
replies to many of their questions. The several
hundred dollars which was found on me \\ us my
own. I often had larger amountsthan that. and
I was contemplating a trip to Philadelphia.
But that, too, was a link in the chain oi evi-
dence which seemed too strong for human skill
to break.”

“ Now, Burd, give me your theory.”

“ [ really have none that amounts- to anything.
Like many others, I supposed at first the crime
was committed by negroes. The overseer and
his wife were both killed by pistol shot wounds
and though no weapon was found on me, yet all
saw the chance I had of getting rid of any such
telltale evidence. and that fin-t, therefore,
weighed nothing in my behalf. The deed must
have been done by some skillful villain who has
kept his secret too well.”

“ Well. good-by; I will see you again to—
morrow.”

Fred Hazeltine, as he declared, had entered
into this business heart and soul, and as be
mounted his horse and rode away from the jail,
his mind was full of it.

“Where shall I look for the key?" he asked
himself;“it must be within reach, if i only knew
where to hunt for it. I will go to the house of
the present overseer. Possibly he has picked up
some clew, for he has ichd in the house several
years ."

It was only a short ride to the houso of Mr.
Merriweather, the successor of the murdered
Warman. As the young lawyer approached he
saw the man for whom he was looking come
from the house, as though he had just con-
cluded his midday meal.

After a few preliminary words, young Hazel-
tine came to the point.

“ You tell me, Mr. Merriweather. that. you
have lived here about three years. During that
time, of course, you have ransacked the place
from top to bottom."

“ I should think so.” replied the Overseer. with
a grin, “ being that I have the help of nine chil-
dren in doing the some thing.”

“ I am the counsel of Captain Burd Bayard,
who is accused of the murder of your prede-
cessor. He is innocent, and the rnal criminal is
still at large. I am in search of evidence. I
want to learn whether you or any member of
your family have come upon anything, no mat-
ter how trifling, that has a bearing upon this
business. Think hard."

“ No, I believe not,” replied the- OVerseer,
taking ofl.’ his hat and scratching his head, like a
man in perplexlty : “ but hold on! I remember
now that one of my children was playing in the
back yard and found a pistol, an old double-
harreled one, that must have lain there a good
time, for it was very rusty."

“ What did you do with it!" '

“ I laid it away on the shelf, and I guess it’s
there yet.”

“ Be kind enough to let me see it.”

Mr. Merriweather was absent only a minute,
when he reappeared bearing the weapon in his
hand.

“ There it is; it was so long ago that I had al-
most forgotten it.”

Fred Hazeltiue’s heart gave a quick throb as
he took the old pistol in hand and carefully ex-
amined it.

“That is the weapon which killed Mr. War—
man and his wife,” said the young lawyer.
“ Both barrels are empty. As Burd Bayard
came out of the front door. the murderer
passed”0ut the rear and dropped this in his
fli ht.

hen, turning to the gaping overseer, he

asked:

“ Am I the only person who has made inquiry .
for this?”

“ Yes, sir; nobody has known that I had it.”

“ Very well; let no livin person knew any-
thing about it. So long a t me has passed that
your children have forgotten it, and a word to
your wife will be sufficient."

“ You are welcome to the pistol, and van
needn‘t have any fear about that,” assured Mr.
Merriweather, whose faith in the discretion of
his wife evidently was unbounded.

Thanking the overseer for his courtesy Fred
bade him good-day and turned his horse in the
direction of Buzzard’s Roost.

 

 
   
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
   
  
 
  
   
 
  
  
 
  
  
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
   
  
  
  
   
 
 
   
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
 
  
   
 
   
  
  
   
 
  

        
      
 
        
     
     
      
        
     
      

Burd Bayard’s Close” Call.

 

 

“ I lwlieve Providence is directing my steps,”
he said; “I am sure Burd never owned that
weap n. Now that no one is watching me, I
will examine it more closely." "

The pistol was smali,silver~mounted, the stock
elaborately carved, and, though rusty from its
long exposure to the elements, the Hunt was in
good condition. so that, when he pulled back the
clawdike hammer and prnssed the trigger. it
gave out a sharp spark, suilicient to ignite any
powder in the pan.

“ S line memento of Revolutionary days, and
there’s no saying what good service it may have
donein the struggle l‘ ir liberty, before prosti-
tu .ed to its last inlsuse— Helios l”

On me linger-guard be traced three letters as
dis'inctly usif he had curved them there him-
self. They were “ P. L. M."

CHAPTER Xi.
OLD rnisnns.

T'i' need not be said that Fred Ilazeltine was
startled, and naturally placed a value on the
discovery j ust made that was lessened by a few
minutes’ reflection.

“ I cannot think of any person with the initials

P. L. M.,’” he said, after racking his brains
over the matter;“and. after all, those letters
may have been placed there with the intent to
deceive; or if they stand for the owner’s name,
perhaps the properté was stolen from him by
be real criminal. ut they, have a value of
their own nevertheless,” be added, carefully
shoving the weapon out of sight of any one
whom he might encounter on the way.

He had hard! done so when he caught sight
of his father‘s amiliar gig bobbing up the road
toward him. The two stopped, as a matter of
course, and the greeting was an affectionate
one.

“ You know the business that has brought me
down from my oflice at Annapolis?” remarked
the son, with a quizzlcal look.

“ Yes, I heard you Were Captain Bayard’s
counsel. You haven hard task before you, as
any man must have who fights justice.”

“ We won’t discuss it here, father ” re-
lied Fred, withasmile. “ I expect to e up
iomo with you and mother for a few day,-
whila pushing my investigations. I believe you
conducted the post-mortem, father, four years

ago?”

“ I did.”

“And you foundapistol-bulletin the body
cf Mr. Warman, and another in that of his
wife?” .

" You are right.”

" What became of those bulletsl”

“ They are in my office, on the topmost shelf,
behind a jar of alcohol.”

“ I should like to have them.”

” Help yourself; I won’t be home for a couple
of hours. and no doubt you can find them witn-
out trouble.” _

After a few more words, father and son sepa-
rated, the latter hurrying t) the home of his
boyhood, where, as may be supposed, he re.
(solved a warm welcome from his mother.
“Tithe tany appearance of expectation or ex-
citenie , Fred made his way to his father’s of-
fine some time later. '

The bullets were found precisely where be ex-
pected to find them, each containing a small
areas cut on it, the same being the mark placed
there for identification by the physician.

The son tried the bullets in the barrels of the
old istol, and they fitted perfectly.

" hat settles that matter,” he said, with a
sigh, “ there can be not the slightest doubt that
these bullets causad the death of the overseer
and his wife, and were discharged from this
pistol. Who fired the pistol? That's the ques-
tion. and until I can find out thalidentity of
‘P. L. M.,’there is little chance of discovering
the guilty one.”

Fred decided to withhold all knowledge of the
recovery of the [31sz from his father. The old
gentleman believed thoroughly in the guilt of
the young man, and, although no man know
bettsrhow to kec a secret than he, ystthere
was nothing to gained by making him a
confidant at this stage of the peculiarly delicate

am.

But that evening he questioned both his
parents as to their knowledge of persons in
the neighborhood whose Christian names be-
gun with the letter M.y Such an old physician
as Doctor Hazeltine possessed an intimate
knowledge if all the families for a radius of a
score of miles; There were plenty who“:
names began with the letter “M,"biit, singu-
larly enough, not one could be thou ht of
whose, first initials were “1’. L.',” or, ndeed,

 

which contained either of the letters. To the
others mentioned, it was impossible to attach
any suspicion.

As the afternoon was only partly gone. F‘red
decided to riilo to Buzzard’s Roost and make an-
other call on Captain llnrd Bayard. He had
concluded to visit hiscilice in Annapolis on the
morrow; and, since the distance was consider-
able, nnd he meant to ride his own horse, with
the probability of being absent a couple of days,
he thought it wise to hold a consultation with
his friend, to whom he wished to reveal the dis-
coveries made during the day.

T" e young man certainly had learned enough
to keep his thoughts busy, and he therefore
failed to note an individual u ho suddenly ap-
peared at the roadside, where it wound through
the small stretch of forest just beyond the
Haunted House.

Then, when he glanced at the person, be ob-
sorved that it was the very one whom of all
others he di luot wish to see.

It was Muriel Haven, who stood quiein at the
side of the highway, survsying him with an ex-
pression that left no doubt she was waiting to
speak to him.

Fred had been her playmate in childhood, and.
knowing the peculiar relations between her and
his client, and the impossibility of saving anv-
thing to cheer her. he hoped that she would al-
low him to pass with no more than a formal salu-
taticn.

But, as he lifted his but, she signed him to
approach, and he could not decline to drew his
horse to one side.

“ Fred. you are the very one I want to see.”

“ In what way can I servo you, Muriel?"

“ You are a. lawyer, and since you hava lived
in Annapolis, I hays-heard how famous you
have beeon e."

The young man flushed to his temples, and
murmured something about the unreliability
of such reports, though the sincerity of the
compliment could not fail to give him plea-
sure. '

“ And you are his lawyer.”

“ Whose lawyer? he asked.

“ Burd Bayard’s. You will defend him when
he is brought to trial for his life."

‘f Who told you that?" he demanded, in aston-
ishment.

“ Nevar mind; is it true?”

“ Yes,” he answered, “I have engaged to de-
fend him, and shall do my utmost to prove his
innocence. As his friend I shall act in this
case, as well as his lawyer.“

“Tell me,” she added, stepping nearer his
horse and looking up in his face; “ is there any
chance to save him i”

“ I believe there is, though it is a slight one.
If you possess any knowledge, or know of any
one who does, now is your time to let me know,
for we have not an hour to lose." '

“I can say nothing of my own knowledge,
but there is one who can, and yet he won’t.” 5

“ Who is he?"

“ He would kill me if 1 should tell you."

Fred Hszsltine was astounded. '

“ You can have no cause for fear, my dear
friend. If you will reveal what you know to
me, you shall be protected. This is a. strange
state of affairs, indeed, when you darevnot tell
the truthi” ,

. “ He will know if I tell you. I would make
any sacrifice for Bard; I would give my life a
hundred times over, but in this case it Would do
no good,”

. “Pardon me for saying: that I am a better
Judge of such matters than you can possibly

“ No, it will be useless, but I Will think—i
will think, and perhaps—perhaps—"

There was an expression on the lovely counte-
nance, as the girl spoke. that touched the heart
of- Fred I‘I-izeltine. Her looks and her manner
told such a tale of anguish,of soul-sorrow, of
despairing misery, that it was a long time be-
fore he could shake 03 the depression they
caused. As she murmured the last words, she
turned about and followed the path into the
wood,- while he could only gaze mournfully after
her and said:

“ Poor girl poor girl God pity you i”

 

1,
CHAPTER XlI.
AT ran noun or MIDNIGHT.

Tan citizens of Buzzard’s Roost, who saw the
AlbatrOss make such haste d0wn the Chesa-
peake outlier morning of the arrest of her un-
fortunate captaiu, supposed that that was the
last of the saucy schooner and her crew, but
they were mistaken.

 

 

 

,, __L_,_._————

Mate Simmons and his men were not the ones
to desert their master in a danger like that
wh'ch had now Overtaken him, and their haste
in speeding down the arm of the broad hay was
only a ruse intended to aid in a daring scheme
the mate had formed.

There was no halt on the part of the Alba-
tross untrl she was miles beyond sight of the
town. Then she slickened rail, and continued
beating onnnd off shore until night was fully
come. Although the moon was shining brightly,
there were clouds at intervals, which sWPpt
across its fncc, and helped the mate in his pur-

oer.

A smart breeze was blowing, and it was not
late in the evening, when the schooner came to
anchor clase inshore, and less than a mile from
the who: I in front of the Golden Boar Tavern.

Theboat which left the side of the Albatross
contained ten men, all of whom leaped ashore,
leaving only one to row back to the vessel,
where he was received by the two seamen that
re ained. It looked indeed as if the Alha-
tr. as required an unusually large crew to navi-
gate her.

Having landed, the nine men proceeded to
business. Several of them were familiar with
theantiqn-ited town of Blizzard‘s Roost, with
its tumble-down buildings, its century-old
church, its dilapidated school-house, and rickety
j an i, which, however, was the most secure build-
ingin the place. '

The party pushed on like so many Indian
scouts, until they were nigh enough to be seen
by any One passing to or from the town. In-
deed thepnrty would have been discovered by
the negro Pimpoy bad they not been quick
enough to screen themselves, before he caught
sight of theshndowy forms crouching on the
ground at the side of the highvav.

When they Were alone again, Mate Simmons
gathered his men around him, and spoke in
guarded tones:

“ Boys, you all know the risk of this business.
We’re going ti win if there is any way under
heaven to do it, but, after all, the job may prove
too big for us. If we fall into the hands of the
authorities, there isn‘t one of us that will get
less than ten years.”

“ It will be worse than that,” said Jack Bath-

gate.

“ How i" asked the mate.

“Judge Lynch, as sure as you’re born.”

“lshouldn’t be surprised if you are right.
Knowing the danger, as all of you do, I want
to say that if any man prefers to withdraw, he
has the right and no one shall utters. word of
blame.”

The mate looked expectantly round in the
faces dimly visible in the gloom. but he could
read no signs of faltering. There was none of
that little bani w ho did not in a Captain Bay-
ard, who had risky-4111's life for more than one
of them, and who always looked after their in-
tcrests before his own.

“ Come on, boys," commanded the mate in a
hopeful undertone; “ it’s neck or nothing with
us now.” '

Meanwhile Mr. Zeke Purrhai, turnkey of the
jail in Buzzard’s Roost. was snoring its the
Seven Sleepers. He was in the middle of a
somewhat disturbing dream when some one
BhOnk him roughly by the shoulder.

“ What’s the matter, Peggy l” he asked, sleep-
ily, of his wife.

“ Matter enough,” she replied, in a ghostly un-
dertone. “ Gabriel has blowed his horn, and
they are after you!” '

“ What! Who? Why?” demanded the mysti-
fied turnkey, coming suddenly to the sitting
posture and staring around him.

his first belief was that his wife had spoken
the solemn truth, for two large balls of fire that
looked like the eyes of some ogre were at his
bedside; but a second glanced showed they were
bull’seye lanterns, held by two men. each of
whom were a mask Over his face. while he who
was nearest the head of the bed helda pistol
with the muzzle almost touching the nose of the
terrified turnkey.

“Good heavensi”, he gasped, “what are you
after? I haven’t any money in the house.”

‘9 Keep quiet l” replied the one with the pistol,
“ and you won‘t get hurt; if you or your wife
make any outcry, we'll send enough bullets
through you both to change you into sieves.”

“ W hat—what do you want?” and the prison-
keeper’s teeth chattered as he spoke.

“We want what we’re gomg to get,”con-
tinned he with the pistol, in the same terrible
voice; “ we want the kevs to 111?“‘ film!”

“ I—dsclare-I’m so fivistered that I‘ve forgot
where they are—I have, as true as I live—”

“You big tooll” broke in ,Mr. Purrhal’s

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Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

 
 

 

spouse; “ don’t you remember you put the mun-

der our piller, there?” '

“ h, Peggy, you’ve mined me,” groaned the
husband: “they’ll let out all the prisoners and
I’ll be hanged.”

“ No, you won’t,” assured Mate Simmons;
“ we’re after one prisoner only— Ah! there
you are!”

_'l‘ho speaker had slid his arm deftly undrr the
pillow and withdrawn the bunch of key, 3, heavy
and cumbersome enough to weigh severnl
pounds. But for their hardness they might have
Served as a pillow for their custodian.

By this time the turnkey had recovered his
self-pomession to some extent. There had been
a rescue from the jail twenty-odd years before.
during his predecessor's time. and ill-'3 Purrhnl
had often boasted that he could novar be taken
unawares. And new hero he was as llelplr'SL‘l is
a child.

But it was a vast relief to know thata Whole-
sale delivery was not intended. The glimpss
which he managed to obtain of the two men by
the aid of the lantern shewed they Were sailors,
and he Was quite sure of their identity; they be-
longed to the crew of the Albatross and had
come to the rescue of their captain.

“What is the number of Captain Bayaril’s
cell ’i”

“ Let me see,” replied the turnkey, thought-
fully, “ I’m afeard it has slipped my mind—”

“ well, well, ’Zekial, if you don’t beat all,”
make in his wife; “ you told me yourself it was

Mr. Purrhal could Only give his wife can re-
proacht‘ul look. He put his whole soul in it, but
he could not trust himself to speak.

“That ’ere big key,”said the lady, indicating
the immense brass contrivance in the hand of
Mute Simmons, “unlocks the outer door; it’s
sort of rusty and you’ll have to turn purty hard
to make it work. If you think you ain’t strong
enough. why, l’ll .dress myself and help you.
When you Open the door you‘ll be face to face
with a man with a musket and a pistol, and if
FLU don’t look out he’ll shoot you dead.”

“ You’re very kind.” replied the sailor, smil-
ing behind his mask, “ we shall remember all

\ you have said.”

' The husband gave another groan. N 0 use of
pro esting or speaking, for he couldn’t do justice
to the theme.

“ After you get inside and fix things with the
guard, you’ll take the right-hand corridor and
near the other end you will see a cell with the
figures ‘60’ over the top; that’s where they’ve
got that murderer that‘s as, sure to be hung as
that my husband is scared half to death.”

The callers knew the valuecf time too well to
waste any of it in parley. Simmons turned to
his companion, who was standing quietly near
the foot_of the bed,and spoke as though he
meant him only to hear his words, though he
could not keep them from the couple in bed .

“ Don’t leave this room till I signal to you ; if
he attempts to get up or give the alarm, don’t
throw away your bullets; give him a couple
where they’ll do the most good.”

“ You can depend on me, Cup: but, what
about the Woman?”

" She ll!“ not too much sense to try anything
of the k1nd;BhG-Poeems to he a perfect lady:
don’t fire on her till you’ve given her plenty of
warning. .

“ l’ll bear it all in mind; oil’ with you, Cap!"

Mate Simmons slipped out of the 'room, leav-
ing his companion to guard the husband and
wife, while he directed the more desperate part
of the business. _1n his haste, as he descended
the stairs, he failed to catch sight of a white
face peerin out at him from a door that was
up land an nch or two.

It was the door leading to the room of Delia,
the twelve-year-Qld dagghter of the turnkey.
The plucky miss halppen to be awake at the
moment. of. the V S 5 0f the couple into her
parents’ room and she overheard nearly every-

‘ thing that was said. She caught enough to
gain an idea of what was coins inn. Softly ris-
ing. she began hastily donning her clothing,

,resolved to take'a band in defeating the de-
signs of the law-breakers.

 

CHAPTER XIII. 'l
sump worn: ALL AROUND.

11' need not be Said that Mate Simmons allow-
ed no grass to grow under his feet. ‘

He realized fully the do ate nature of the
business in which he and h comrades were en-
gaged. P9 was well aware. too, that under the
most favorable circumstances, they could not
pass a fourth of the distance to where they had

I

 

 

landed from the Albatross, before the alarm
would be given.

Whatewr might be said of the population of
Buzzard’s Roost, the little town contained more
than one brave descendant of the patriots who
fought in the Rev lution. and they were always
ready to respond to a call i or help,

()nthe outside of the turnkey’s house. Mate
Simmons narr0w1y missed running against a
:hadowy figure that appeared to be waiting for

llll.

“ It’s all right,” whispered this man; “ no
ulnrm yet.”

“ What‘s been done?” asked the mate.

“The sheriff is bound and gauged and so
scared that he wouldn’t dare give one squawk if
his mmith wasn’t crammed with Yogi"; have you
the keys?”

“ Yes—come ahead I ’ .

A few steps and the enormous brass contriv-
nnce was thrust mm the lock of the heavy outer
door. Mrs. Pui'rhal u a i right when s-he inform-
ed her VlSltOl' that the luck was rusty, but the
sailor was strong, and. putting lorth apnwerful
wrench, he slid the bar and sh .vcd the door
inward.

“ Helloa, Zeke, what’s upi Anything—”

Further utterance on the part of the guard
was shut (if by several fingers which closed
with a grip of iron On his throat, while his wea-
pons were torn from his possession before he
could f-rm any idea of the danger that had
come like a cyclone.

“ N t a word or you’re a dead man i”

“Not n. Word,” thought the helpless victirr;
“I don’t think there'll be many till Iget the
power to speak.”

One of the men was left to guard this ofllcial,
who was so well satisfied that the least demon-
stration on his part would be followed by in-
lstung; death that he became as submissive as a
am .

The rescuers were now within the corridor.
upon which opened the cell wherein Captain
Bayard was confined. Everything was going
well. and Mote Simmons and his men were he -
ful of getting away with their leved leader E:-
fori an alarm could be given.

The success of such daring schemes depends
on the vim and dash with which they are pushed
through to the end. None understood this bet-
ter than the second cfiiier of the Albatross. It
need nct be said that every man Was fully
armed, but they had been instructed not to fire
a weapon unless it should become necessary for
the success of their plan, or should be required
by self-defense.

“ The old lady told me it was Room 69,” mut-
tered Simmons, as he hurried along the corri-
dor, holding his lantern above his .head that he
might read the numbers as be burned by g “ and
I don’t think. from the way she acted.she would
have dared to tell an untruth. A few minutes
more and this business will he decided.”

The mate was in high hope, but could he
have glanced into the sleeping apartments of
Turnkey Purrhal at that moment, he would
got (have been so confident that success was at

an. .

Delia Purrhal was given twice as much cour-
age by nature as either of her parents. The
sound of voices in their room reached her ears,
and. as has already been shown, caused her to
make a little investigation on her Own part.

It took only a short time for such a bright.
witted girl to learn that a party of men had se-
cured possession of the jail, for the purpose of
liberating Captain Bayard.

“And I’m going to prevent them.” she said to
herself, as she hastily donned her clothing.

It was a plucky resolution. but few grown
persons could have belieVed there was any hope
of success: for Delia knew that the utmost. she
could do wosto ring the alarm-bell to call the
neighbors to the help of her father.

Not only was that the quickest way of bring-
ing friends to their assistance,but it Was the
only one within possible reach. The masked
men were too vigilant to allow any one to leave
the house of the turnkey; and, to reach the rope
dangling from the beifry. she would be obliged
to pass through ,ber parents’ room, where the
man in a mask, and with a pistol and light, was
on guard. ,

“ l’m goingto do it.” she murmured, with a
whispered prayer, as she set out; “ if he catches
sight of me, I’ll run for the rope and give it one
or two pulls before he can shoot me.” ‘

The sly peep she cut into the mom showed
her the guard sitting on a chair with his back
toward her. Hislamp rested on astend at his
elbOW, and shed a dim light through the apart-
ment. making the sirution tenfold more terrible
than it could have been by the light of day.

 

 

On the other side of the guard was the door
opening into the hall where hung the rope from
the big bell in the tower above. To reach this.
she must cross the bedroom in which the guard
sat. There was room to do so without tiptoe—
ing in front of the frightful man. who was not
likely to detect her, unless she betrayed herself
by some slip.

It seems singular. but it was a fact that the
girl‘s greatest niisgiving was on account of her
parents. They could not fail to see her ghostly
figure stealing silently behind the guard, and it
was more than probable they would betray her
by some word, since they could hardly be ex-
pected to understand at a glance her scheme for
b; ill : :12 the raiders.

But there was not a moment to spare. and the
brave girl entered upon her dangerous venture
with the same coolness that had‘ marked her
conduct from the first. The door gave not the
slightest sound as she drew it back, and, reach
ing the dainty foot into the room, she stepped
silently forward.

At that instant her parents saw her.
were lying back on the pillows but with their
heads sufficiently elevated to look about the
apartment. The mother straightened up, and
was in the Very act of speaking, when her line-
hand, quicker than she to recognize this phase of
the business, gave her a warning pinch.

But the watchful guard noticed the startled
look. and observed that it was directed toward
the door. through which he and the mate had
entered. He turned his gaze in that direction.

A single second owner, and everything would
have been lost; but Delia had not paused at si ht
of the action of her mother, and raising or
finger threateningly, she continued forward with
the same noiseless step.

Thus, when the man looked at the door, she
was directly behind his chair.

“ I wonder what‘s up,” he growled, springing
from his seat, and hastening forward to investi-
gate for himself.

This was Delia’s opportunity and she glided
into the other room and was out of sight before
he could reach the opposite door and turn
around.

“ I don’t see nothing,” he muttered, after
surveying his surroundings by the aid of his

The two

lantern, “ but," he added, as he walked back to ‘

his seat and looked over the interior, “ it strikes
me that that door over there was Open awhile
ago, and now it's shut as tight—great Closer 1"

At that instant, the hell in the tower rang out
clear and sharp on the still night. Some one
was swinging it with a vigor and fiercenes‘s that
was sure to rouse every one in Buzzard’s ltoostl

With an exscration the sailor made a dash_for
the ball, but found the door fastened. A kick,
however, sent that flying off its hinges and he
burst into the hall beyond, where Delia ’thu
was ringing the bell so furiously.

CHAPTER XIV.
A STRANGE nusonva.

MEANWBILE Mate Simmons had kept things
m0vimr. A few minutes brought him in front
of Cell 09. His key was ready, and being thrust
into the lock and sharply turned. the door swung
ingard, and the sailor stepped across the thresh-
o I . I
“ Helios, Cap 1” he called out, holding hlslight
show: his head, and catching sight of the mana-
cled form on the bed, “wake up! you’ve got
visitors”

“ In the name of the seven vendors, who are
you?" demanded Captain Bayard. rising on his
elbow, staring atthe masked face, and failing to
recognize the voice of his mate. ,

“ Don’t you know me i“ chuckled the latter,
deftl slipping the mask from his countenance,
and olding the light so that it, revealed his
pleasant features. v ‘

“ Great Heavens! Tom. whstbrinasyou here?"

asked Captain Bayard, struggling to the sitting
ture.
“ That’s a prettv question to ask l Why, we’ve

come for you; what else could be our busi-

new?”

“ How many men have you?"

“ There are ten of us altogether.”

“ How did you manage to get in here?”

“ That was easy enoughzone of the boys has
the turnkey under his eye, another has fixed the
sheriff. and another is on guard at the doorof
the jaiL’?  ' . l

“ And the Albatross?”

“She’l in ashort distance below yendthere’l ‘ '
a y g , ‘We’ll have; .~
you far out of sight by day! ght.ant,i’ we 

a brisk breoae on the bay to-nl ht.

laugh at the whole State of Maryland

“ Has everythingbeer- fixed so  

there won’t be any slip l"

 
   
   
  
 
 
 
    
 
 
  
   
  
   
 
    
   
   
  
   
   
   
  
    
  
   
  
    
   
   
   
     
         
     
       
     
     
     
    
   
   
    
     
      
        
      
      

r

     
   

 

          

 

. a.» ; . “_ _

 
 

10

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

 

 

 

“ There won’t be anywhere. Everything has
worked splendidly from the first; but we haven’t
any time to throw away; I’m ready to knock
those irons of! you.”

“ Well, Tom, I can’t tell you how much I ap-
reciate the devotion of yourself and the boys,
ut 1 can’t go with ou.’

Simmons almost ropped his lantern, as with

a gas and recoil he exclaimed:

“ \ hat?”

“ I mean it, and you can’t change my resolu-
tion.”

“ You are crazy! You are not in your right
mind! You must go! You shall go! By gra—
cious! I’ll carry you in my arms, and We’ll take
you off in spite of yourself,” and the enthusiastic
mate would have executed his threat had not his
superior oilicer sternl y interpOsed.

“ Listen, Tomi Four years ago, when I wasin
danger of hanging, I sneaked out of the country.
I have been re-arrested, and now I’m going to
stand trial. To run off again looks too much like
a confession of guilt.”

“ lint I hear they’re going to hang you, any-
way.

“ That can’t be told, for I haven’t been tried.
I have good counsel and we are hopeful of vic-
tory, but if I was sure of defeat, I would stay
here and see the thing out.”

‘The mate took his seat on the rough couch be-
side his half reclining chief, and looked fixedly
at him. V
“ I’m blessed if I understand this business, Cap;
you don’t talk and act like yourself.”

Burd Bayard could not help smiling at the
earnestness of his devoted officer, and he made
answer:

“ Nevertheless, I am quite sure it is I, and if I
am mad, you will live long enough to see there
is some method in my madness.”

“ I’ve a great notion to take you off in spite of
yourself. After we get back in the cabin of the
filhatross, we can sit down and argue the ques-

on.

“ Don’t argue it, Tom; I know I have your
best wishes, but my step is a deliberate one, and
nothing can dissuade me.”

Mate Simmons partedIhis lips to make another
protest, when he was startled almost out of his
senses by the furious clanging of the bell in the
tower over head.

“ Not another minute i” commanded Captain
Bayard. " The citmens are gathering and every-
one of you will be captured. Off With you i”

“ But—hut,” stammcred the mate, bewildered
and uncertain what he ought to do. “ I can-
not—”

“ Off with you! The lives of the boys are in
your handsl’

And springing from the bed, he fairly pushed
his dazed visitor from the cell, despite his own
hindering manacles. Before his friend could re-
slag. or form any plan he was in the corridor with-
on

“You are safe!” he called back, as the heavy
door banged behind him, “ for even in Maryland
they don t hang natural-born fools. ”

The bell ceased its clanging. The sailor guard-
ing the turnkey and his wife had kicked in the
door and intercepted Delia Purrhal. When he

. saw that it was a pretty young girl who was

leaping upward and frantically ringing the hell,
be restrained the upraised hand and recoiled in
amazement.

“ Well, you’re one of them i” he exclaimed;
“ but you must be tired, so you can take a
rest."

“ ow you can shoot!” said Delia, calmly fold-
ing her arms; “ I have aroused the citizens.”

" Shoot?" repeated the officer. “ I would as
soon shoot my great-grandmother. You are a
plucky girl; bac with you into the room of your
parents.”

Delia would have hesitated, had not her mother
called her sharply just then. She darted through
the door, and throwing herself on the bed, buried
her face on the bosom of her parent and sobbed
like a broken-hearted child.

She had finished her work and the overwrought
nerves gave way.

Realizing the irremediable mischief done, the
sailor extinguished his lamp and went down-
stairs and outside on the jump.

As he did so, he caught sight of shade figures
darting hither and thither. Despite t e brief
time that had elapsed, the people bad sprung
from their beds and were hastening toward the
jail to obey the appeal to them.

But Mate Simmons was also there, with his af-
frighted men gathered around him. He Richly
explained the strange refusal of Captain yard
to go with him and added: u

‘ We must make a run for it! Get back-to

 

where the boat is waiting as quickly as your legs
will carry on.”

He set t e example and a break was made.
By promptly seizing their advantage they were
soon clear of the excited little town without any
collision with the people.

Once on the highway, they sped forward so
rapidly that they safely reached the spot where
the small boat was awaiting them, just at the
time when something like an organized pursuit
was set on foot.

The moment they stepped upon the deck of the
Albatross, the anchor was hoisted, sail spread
and the saucy vessel headed out ( f the nrm of
the buy. A spanking breeze s. at her bowling
along at a merry rate, with the foam curling
from her shapely prow, whiloshe careened far to
one side under the impulse of the wind that bore
her rapidly from the scene of danger.

When daylight came, she was far down the
Chesapeake, and bl nding taward the Atlantic.
The glass of the mate pointed back toward Buz-
zard’s Reost which had long since dropped out of
sight, faich to show any sail that looked like that
of a pursusr.

It cannot be said that Mate, or rather Captain
Simmons, as he was to he henceforth, would have
felt any: alarm had such a sight met his gaze, for
he had seen the speed of the Albatross tested too
often to fear anything of that nature.

“ I made a mistake, however,” he said, regret-
fully, “in not bringing Cap awayin spite of him-
self. He’s as sure to be hanged now as that his
name is Burd Bayard.”

CHAPTER XV.
A LUCKY MISTAKE.

VVBILE these exciting events were taking place
in Buzzard‘s Roost, Fred Hazeltine found himself
involved in a series of adventures hardly less
stirring in their nature.

He was riding along on a lonely road just as
night was closing in, and was approaching the
old Black Bear Tavern where he meant to stay
over night to resume his journey to Buzzard’s
Roost at an early hour the following morning.

It will be recalled that he had started toward
the State Capital with the expectation of being
absent several days. and had so notified his friend
Captain Bay ard. The brilliant young counselor,
however, changed his mind. He concluded that
the important business in the city could wait un-
til the slight clue he had struck in the shape of
the rusty pistol should be followad without in-
terlruption to the end, whatever thutmight prove
to )9.

Thus it came about that at the moment he
ought to have been riding into Annapolis, he was
only afew milesfrom Buzzard’s Roosr. Bynush-
ing 0n, he could have reached his parents’ h me
by midnight; but his horse was tired and he
thought it prudent to gain a good night’s rest
the better to be prepared for the arduous work
before him. In this lonely place, there was much
better prospect of such refreshment than in the
atmosphere of Buzzard’s Roost.

When perhaps a couple of miles from the Black
Bear, Fred observed acouple of horsemen ahead
of him. The sun had set and he could not gain
a clear view of them, but he saw them look
around more than once, as if they felt special in-
terest in him.

“ I don’t know you,” said the lawyer to himself,
“ and i can't say that I'm anxious to make your
acquaintance; so. unless you hold up for me, I
will deprivo myself of that pleasure.’

The horsemen regulated their pace, so that the
distance between the parties was reduced to a
hundred yards, more or less. Then they spurred
their animals into a more rapid Walk, with the
evident purpose of keeping the space about the

 

same.

Fred Ha zeltine believed these men had designs
against him, though it was hard to guess what
they were. If they knew him, they must have
been aware that he had little in the way of plun-
der to tempt foot ads; but, if unaware of his
identity, it would in keeping with the times,
the neighborhood and the legends of the country,
for them to murder him for booty. '

“ I have two pistols with me,” be reflected,
“ though one of them is good for nothing, since
it is the rusty old weapon that hasn’t been fired
for four years. There are two good loaded bar-
rels in the other, hawever, and they will give a
good account of themselves, if necessary."

There was woods on both sides of the road, and
when Fred saw the two men wheel their animals
and suddenly disappear among the trees, he was
sure he was “in for it.” He drew his pistol and
held it over the saddle in front of him, while he
kept his eyes and ears open.

Deeming it best to bring matters to an is“. ,
without delar, he spurred I isnnimn linto a brisk

 

gallop. A strange creeping came over him as
he approached the spot where the horsemen had
vanished, and he was never so sure of an thing
as he was that he would serve asa target or one
or two shots.

Happily, however, he was disappointed. No-
thing broke the stillness, but the sound of hisown
horse’s hoofs as he swept along on a brisk cen—
ter.

“ That’s mighty queer l” reflected Fred, when
he knew he was some distance beyond the “ dan~
ger point ;” “ it looks as if I was mistaken about
them—i don’t know about that, though.”

This qualifyin clause was the result of what
he saw when he ooked around. The horsemen
Were in sight again, at the same distance that
they were in advance, at the time of turning in
among the trees. They and thelaw yer lrsd mere-
ly changed places.

It is far more uncomfortable to have n suspect-
ed enemy in the rear than in the front. Fred
determined that whatever took place, the spa co
separating them should not be lessen: d. His
horse was pretty Well worn, but he was still
capable of high speed for a few miles.

The rider jerked the rein sharply and the ani-
mal bounded oil? at a pace which rapidly drew
him away from thaotbers. Before half the in—
tervening distance to the tavern was passed, the
young man found himself unable, when he look-
ed over his shoulder, to catch sight of either of
his pursuers, as he considered them.

Bringing his horse to a halt for a moment, he
listened, but could catch no sound cf the boots.

“ I shouldn’t wonder if I mistook thcm alto-
gether,” he said, as he resumed his advance on a
walk; “ or, what is just as likely, they Were try-
ing to have a little sport at my expense.”

This would have been a comforting conclusion
could he who formed it have convinced himself
that it was correct; but, seek as much as he
might, he could not free himself of a suspicion
that these men had not yetabandoned their sinis—
ter designs on him.

Reaching the little tumble-down tavern, which
had been known as“ The Black Bear ” from Re-
volutionary times, Fred dismounted and turned
his horse OVer to the puffy landlord, Peleg Mc-
Fadden, while the landladybustled about to pre-
pare him a supper.

Fred found he was the only guest at the little
inn, and, after smoking a cigar and chatting for
awhile, he withdrew to his room to gain the
night’s rest w hich he craved.

This would have been at his command could he
have freed his mind of the misgiving about the
two horsemen. He had expected they would fol-
low him to lheinn and spend the night there. If
thcyhad some purpose to carry out respecting
him it would seem that such would be the most
natural Course; but, though he lay awake along
time, he heard nothing of them, and when the
sounds showm that the landlord and his wife
had retired f. r the night, be dismissed all fear,
and floated ( it into the land of dreams.

It ne< d not be said thatbefOre retiring for the
night, the guest took every precaution against a
nocturnal visit from the parties who had dis-
turhed his thoughts. The key was turned in his
look and he placed both pistols under his pillow,
Where he was sure they would be within instant
reach in case of need. He was a li ht sleeper
and was coufldent that the slightest isturbance
would awaken him.

But, as has been stated before, Fred Hazeltine
was wearied in body and mind. His unusually
long ride that day had worn upon his body t >
that extent that, when he closed his eyes, they
did not oprn until the morning sun was shining
in the small room.

“ Well,” said he, as he recalled his situation,
“ my fears were without foundation. They must
have been a con is of innocent countrymen who
attteg’ipted a litt e sport with me—Hailoa! how‘s
t at ’I ‘

He noticed that the door which he had looked
so carefully the night before was on a crack,
sflnd the key which he had turned la y on the

oor.

“I have had a visit, sure enough," was his
natural conclusion, as he made a hasty :xan;ina-
tion for other evidences.

But his watch and the moderate amount of
money in his possession were undisturbed, nor
were there any signs that his clothing had been
molested.

“ I don’t understand why any parties entering
a sleeping-room should leave without carrying
all the plunder passible with them, and were I
not certain that 1 looked that door I would be-
lieve it “as a dream. It may be the landlord
has taken a look inside, though why he should do
so in that styleis a mystery.”

Having donned his garments and finished his

....A4-mn- “92': 9-9

 

 

I
l
r
I
’

    
 

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

11,

 

ablutions, he suddenly recalled the pistols under
his pillow. Flinging the head-rests aside, he
discovered that one of the weapons was miss-

in .

fie Searched every part of the bed, looking
under and in every possible place where the
weapon might have been hidden, but it was in-
visible. Other hands had certainly taken it from
the room. ‘

All doubt on this point removed, the motives
(aind action of the horsemen became clear as noon-

ay.
“ They Were after that rusty pistol which is to
form such strong evidence in unearthing the as-
sassin of the overseer and his wlfe. They were not
the principals in the crime, but have been em-
ployed to secure the weapon.

‘ They set out to follow me to Annapolis, and
have been watching me from the first, though I
saw nothing of them until last night. They were
instructs t to get the tell-tale evidence. if possible,
without taking my life, for that would compli-
cate the business unnecessarily. W hen they
turned aside in the road, they must have been
thinking of violence, but changed their minds.

“ They did a wiser thing by sneaking into my
room here in this old tavern, but they ever-
reached themselves.”

Fred Hazeltine felt himself warranted in sit-
ting down in his chair and indulging in a grim
smile.

His visitors of the night before seemed to have
lost sight of the probability that he carried two
pistols instead of a single weapon. The rogue
who slipped his hand beneath the pillow, luckily
touched the wrong weapon, and never thinking
that might be the case, he had quietly appropri-
ated it and withdrawn. .

“ I have lost a good pistol,” mused thelawyer,
“but I would rather part with a thousand such
than the old rusty one they left behind.”

Going below stairs, he acquainted the landlord
with what had taken lace. Mr. McFadden was
very indignant that is house, for the first time
in its history, should be subjected to such an in-
dignity. He and his wife made careful search,
and discovered without difficulty the means by
which the burglars had effected an entrance.

It was no credit to their skill that they suc-
ceeded, for a child could have done as well.
Robbers were the last people that were feared
in the Black Bear, and consequently the way
was invitiugly open to them when they chose to
cal

 

CHAPTER XVI.
VISITED IN JAIL.

IT was hard for the authorities of the jail to
understand that the prisoner, whose disgraceful
doom seemed aforegone conclusion, had actually
refused to pass through the door of escape when
it was open to him, but the evideuco was so
strong that the sheriff could not avoid believing
the extraordinary story. While itdld not affect
his belief in the guilt of the accused, it inclined
him to less rigor in his confinement. The jail
was strengthened, extra precautions were taken
to prevent a repetition of the surprise, for there
won many Who believed the Albatross would
return, and the irons were removed from Cap-
tain Bayard’s limbs.

On the day following the daring attempt at
rescue. he was mung in his cell, Wondering and
specmauni! 0V?” the Probable outcome of the un-
precedented Situation in which he was placed,
and wishing that the lightThearted, hopeful Fred
Haifeltine would hasten his return from Anna-

0 s.
p There was no regret on the part of the young
captain because he had refused the offer of free.
dom. Existence had reached that point with
him that he was resolVed to end the Suspense one
way or the other, once and forever. He Ilad'been
afugitive for years, and, asis often the case with

uilty criminals, his spirit had rebelled to that

agree that he felt actual punishment itself
would be a relief to the fearful depression of
mind he had undergone so long.

“ If Muriel would have one with me,” he
mused, pacing his narrow ce I, ” I would have

ed to some remote corner of the world, where
we could have forgotten the curse of her parent,
and lived and died happy in One another’s love,
but—”

“ Captain, are you prepared to receive a call
from u young lady?”

is was Turnkey Purrhal who asked the start-
ling questtOn. The fussy officer took a peep with-
inthe cell as he spoke, and satisfying himself
that th? grisoner wail: ready for company, he did
not we t oran re .

“ Walk righty in?  Haven; I’ll leave you
alone for awhile and knock when it’s time for
you to leave.

fix? I ‘
!

   

. L”. 4 ‘1
W :1.‘£ 42%: 3+3:   I

 

And before Burd Bayard could fairly shake
himself together, the young lady stood within
the cell and calmly confronted h m.

Had our hero been given a few minutes in
which to nerve himself for this interview, he
might have been able to follow the heroic course
he had laid out for himself, but as it was, all
such Spartan resolutions were swept to the
winds. Stretching out his arms, he sprung im-
pulsivsly forward, and murmuriug the Words,
“Oh, Muriel! my loved! my lost, my own Muri-
el 1" pressed her convulsively to his heart.

And where was all her self-possession and self-
restraint?

Scattered to nothingness by the words, the
manner and the wild embrace of him whom she
loved with an affection she could never know for
another.

Her head sunk on his shoulder, and for several
minutes their tears mingled in hot rain, while
their hearts throbbed with a tempest of emotion
that stirred their very souls.

And as they gave way at the same moment,
so was their recovery simultaneous.

Lifting the queenly head from his shoulder,
he gently led her to a chair, while be seated him-
self iu the only remaining one, the two so placed
that they looked in each other’s faces while the
words fell from their lips.

It was she who was the first to speak.

“I have heard all about the strange visit of
last night,” she said, with something of her old
selfijSsession.

“ Do you think I did wrong in refusing to ac-
cept the chance to get an ay'i’

“I cannot say that you did wrong; I can only
say that I am sorry you did not take the oppor-
tunity which I am afraid will never come again
to you.’

“ Fred thinks there is hope of my innocence
being established.”

“ I trust so, but I tremble for the. result.”

“ It does look dark, as be freely admits, but
there is a magnetism in hopefulness which
you cannot resist. I wonder whether I am
wrong in suspecting that he has secured some
evidence which is valuable and which he keeps
front me?”

“ I think you are right.”

There was a peculiar intonation in these
words, which thrilled the captain, and he looked
inquiringiy at the adored girl for an explana-
tion. She smiled faintly, but dld not speak the
enlightening sentence. Instead of doing so, she
said in a low, tremulous voice:

“ I trust, Burd, you are prepared for the
worst.”

“ Prepared for the worst?” be repeated, bitter-
ly. “ What can be worse than what I have en-
dured for the last four years. I have determined
to face my trial and to accept unmurmurtngly
its verdict; but suppose my innocence should be
made as clear as the noouday sun, it will hea
great triumph, but it cannotlift the sorrow from
my heart, for I am doomed to 80 through life
without you.”

“Be it so,” she said, with a spirituality of
resignation, like that which beautifles the face
of an angel; “ if God, for some purpose which
we cannot fathom, has wxlled that it shall be so,
it i4 not ours to complain. I know I possess your
low, and you possess mine. Wh‘lHY- 0111' make
is such that no change can ever come to us. Let
us each dedicate our future lives tothe service
of our heavenly Father, assured as we are that
it will all be made right in the end, and that the
time is certain to come when 110 Will wipe away
all tears from our eyes.

' “ You are made of the stuff which saints are
composed of, but I am not. 1 cannot rise to the
spiritual hights that you do.”

“ You can, if you so mil. with God’s help!"

“ No," he said, sorrowfully. " you are a hero-
ine, and 1 am a coward. i sit as did the prephet
at the feet of Gamaliel, except that your utter-
ances are beyond my Kraflp- To me you are 03-
alted. not alone above other women, but above
humanity.”

She shook her head reprovinglyo

“ Thousands more worthy than I have died
for their belief in Him who died for u! all;
reverence not me, but the Author of the ut-
terance which I can only repeat.”

Burd Bayard scanned the lovaly face before
him with a strange, inquiring expression. A
thrilling usstion continually formed itself un-
bidden ails mind. It was.

“ Is it actually Muriel l-laven or is it some one
else? The features and countenance are the
in“he. but there is something in the looks, the ex-
pression, and sometimes in the tones, which
m’not to be here, but to belongto some one

as

Despite all he could do, an awful suspicion

 

came over him that she was associated with
that wondrous voice he had heard in the Haunt~
ed House, and that in some manner beyond his
comprehension her being was interwoven with
the supernatural inhabitants of that old struc-
ture.

But he would not permit himself to dwell
upon the appalling subject. By a mental ef-
fort he forced it behind him and faced the pres—
ent.
“ My fate will soon be known,” he said,com-
ing back to the matter which had filled the

minds of both so long, “and Fred says he has no ‘

doubtthat the issue of my trial will be a sen-
tence of death.” I

“ Where, then, is there hope?” she asked,
vainly trying to avert the shudder that shook
her frame.

“ You have a right to know my theory, which
I am confident is the right one. He suspects the
real criminals, but he does not wish them to
know it. He has not enough evidence as yet to
cause even their arrest. He seeks to throw them
off their guard, honing thereby to secure the
evidence that will insure justice to them and
save me.”

“ I know whom he suspects, but I will leave
him to tell you: he has Iotten part of his infor-
mation from rue, and he 9 right—”

At this juncture the turnkey rapped softly on
the door as an intimation that it was time to
bring the interview to an end.

Muriel rose, and Burd once more took her in
his arms.

“ Good'by, my guardian angel l"

“ Good-by, my own Burd 1"

Their lips met in one leng, loving pressure,
and then, with the gallantry of a Crusader, he
conducted her to the do: r, saluted and surren—
dered her to the care of the turnkey.

She had been one less than fifteen minutes
when Fred Haze tine burst into the cell like so
much sunshine, with his account of all that had
happened to him since bidding 'good-by t3 his
client, the day before.

CHAPTER XVII.
'ro-Moaaowl ro-moaaow.

THE trial of Burti Bayard tor murder was one
it: the most remarkable in the history of Mary-

nd.

Among some of the features of that ex-
traordinary event was the fact that the trial
did not take place until four years after the
commission 'of the crime, though there are not
wanting many instances in which the interval
Was still greater.

But some curious fascination brought the
young man back to the spot, when all hope of
his'arrest and punishment had vanished from
the minds of the people.

Burd Bayard was known to evsr one in the
neighborhomi of Blizzard’s Roost. w ere he was
born and where he spent his boyhood. His
parents, who Were in good Circumstances were
lost at see, when he was but a child. fie had
received a liberal education, and, showing a
predilection for the ocean. had spent a good
deal of his time on it, becoming a skillful sailor
before reaching his majority.

He was universally liked, for, up to the time
of the murder of the oVerseer, he had never
been sus .cted of anything mean or unmanly.
He was ind, charitable, brave and handsome.
and so generally liked that when it became
known that he and Muriel Haven, the only child
of the fiery Colonel Haven, were betrothed. the
Rgpular opinion was that no better match could

made. Even Colonel Haven himself, who
naturally thought the world hardly contained
an one good enough for Muriel, freely admit-
that he was satisfied with her choice.

Thus matters st0od when the frightful assas-
sination of the overseer took place, and Bard
Bayard tied the country in the darkness,toes-
cape the penalty of the crime.

Without dwelling further on the particulars
of the crime. or delaying over the preliminaries,
let us eome to the trial itself.

The first witnesseswere the negroes Pumper
and Pete, who were almost frightened rodeath
when placed in the witness-box. one after the
other, and asked to recall the incidents of that
memorable night.

The poor fellows never would have got
through with their testimony had they not been
carefully handled by the prosecuting attorney
and even by the courtitself.

The story which they told has already been
outlined to the reader. It was they w 0, on
that night. observed Bayard emerge from the
house of Mr. Klrke Warman, from which smoke
afterward was seen issuing and which led them.
to rush into the building inst in timetosxtini-

 

 

 

 

12~

guish the flames and to disCOVer the mangled
bodies of the overseer and his wife.

It nearly broke the heart of Pomp to give this
damaging testimony, for he knew how it would
affect the young captain whom he loved so well.
He had persuaded Pete to agree with him on a
line of evidence intended to clear Bayard. They
meant to swear they had seen three men eight
feet high. armed with spears and hatchi-ts, and
painted like Indians, smash in the doors and
commit the deed despite all they could do to
save the lives of the overseer and his wife, but,
when Pomp found himself on the witness-stand,
his courage forsook him and he dared tell noth-
ing but the simple truth.

This t :stimouy, as the reader will understand,
could not have convicted Burd Bayard, if it
were unsnp orted, since it was given by th)
slaves “ be ore ti 0 war.” But, that which
clinched the bu<iness was the evidence of Josiah
Brigham, the white man, who met the prisoner
on that evsntful night. This corroborated in
every particular the statements of thenegroes.

Fred Hazeltine was too prudent to attempt to
weaken the testimony of Mr. Brigham. In car-
ried the conviction of truth in itself and was
giwn by a man whom no inducement in the
world could persuado to tell an untruth.

The witness rendered his story absolutely ir-
resistilile by his futile effort to hide the distress
its utterance caused him. He had been an inti-
mate friend of Burd's father and could not have
loved his own son more than the handsome
young sea captaln.

When he virtually pronounced his sentence it
was conscience alone that led him to do so.

There was other testimony, including that of
Dr. HaZeltine, who made the p'ist-mortem, and
that of. the oilicer who arrested Bayard when in
bed, and with the tell-tale evidenceof his crime
upon him.

N o matter how solemn the occasion, nor how
weighty the interests involved, the minds of the
spectators and of- those concerned will react
from their intense depression and find some-
thing to amuse when such things seem sacrilege.

The tint of comedy in this tragedy appeared
when it became the privilege of Fred Hazeltine
to cross examine his father. As the son looked
up am e ncountered the gaze of his parent, fixed
frowuingly upon him, just as it had been fixed
nor. mny years before when about to chastise
him for some breach of discipline, he could not
avoud blushing, and then, to his own dismay, in
spite of all he could do, he broke into silent but
he» rt y laughter.

Evesry one in the court-rocin, including the
presiding judge and Burd Bayard caught the
situation and joined in the mile—the single 0!-
caption being Dr. Hazeltine himself, who con-
tracts 1 his brows and looked as if he was about
to step ft award and taking his son by the nape
of th \ re k. stretch him across his knee and ad-
nv’mi u-tar punishment just as in the good old
tin» s.

Fre i‘s questions were unimportant, not be-
came he was afraid to turn the tables on his re-
spected parent, now that the situation was so
peculiar, but from the nature of the case, there
was nothing to be gained by any series of ques-
tions of the physicin, who. e testimony could
not extend be and that which related to the
post mnrtm o the bodies, whose manner of
death haul nevor been questioned by any one.

’1‘» the spectators who crowded the court-
romn, the course of Fred Hazeltine seemed sin.
gulav-ly weak. Bis questions to the various
witnesses amounted to nothing. He seemed to
handh- all gingerly and refrained from any at-
temnts to break them down.

“ He knows there is no hope: he is reallv doing
what he can, which isn’t anything at all .”

This was the general Verdict, but there were
several who knew the brilliant young counselor
better. Doctr Hassltine could not be mistaken
in reading the expression on the face of his son.
whom he ought to understand more thoroughly
than any oneelse.

“ I tell you.” he said that night, in discussing
the matter with his wife, after Fred had gone to
his room, “ there’s something in the wind; I
know that rascal clean through. I saw several
looks pass between him and the prisoner which
no one else noticed besides the judge, and he
agreed with me that the scamp is holding some-
t‘-ing hack. and when it does come it will be a
p miter-mine explosion. We’ll wait till to-mor-
run 7 \‘ 4

A y . toomorrow‘l to-morrowi

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE DAY OF DOOM.
Tnasecond and concluding day of the memo-
rable trial consisted of more than one surr’se.

 

 

 

 
 

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

The court-room was crowded and crammed un-
til the wonder was how any one in the audience
could draw a full breath.

It need not be said that Muriel Haven was not
present.

Burd took notes of everything that passed,

- and this was sent to her imm .-diately on the con-

clusion of the trial. Fred Hazsltine added a few
words, bidding her keep up Courage even if her
friend should be pronounced guilty.

Doctor Hazeltine was allowed a seat beside
the presiding judge, who was an old acquain-
tance. The venerated physician (lid not led to
call at The Cedars immediately after adjourn—
ment and acquaint the widow of Colonel Haven
with everything that had passed during the
day. Fortunately for the doctor, his patients
s billed to take a favorable turn for a few days,
so that he enjoyed something in the nature or a
vacation, and was able to give his attention to
the all-absorbing subject.

The striking feature of the closing day was
the disappointment caused by Fred Hazeltine.
As has been stated, the presiding judge and
Doctor an =ltine himself were confident that he
had simply masked his battery, which would be
fired at the proper moment. and as likely as not
knock the whole prosecution into “asteroidal
smithereens.”

But there was nothing of the kind. The
counsel for the defendant (fl’ered no evidence
for his side exoept that be excused himself.
He was permitted to take the witness-stand and
repeated the story which the reader has already
heard. He told it in a straightforward manner
which was not without its 1 Ifr'Ct, but it was not
sufficient to shake the mountain of testimony
against him.

In that assemblage there were not half a
dozen men who did not sympathize with Burd,
but the sympathy was that which we hll feel
forhim who has been led astray by temptation,
mingled with wonder that any one could have
suffered himself to go wrong, when there was so
little cause for it.

The speech of Fred Hazcltine was one of the
most brilliant and powerful of his life. Even
his stern old father felt a thrill of admiration.
when his eloquent. Psentences rung through the
little building. Evvry eye was fixed on the
young man, and no hz-art WHS untouched by his
impassioned utterances. More than one juror
blew his nose suspiciously, and blinked and
winked so vigorously that there could be no
mistaking the cause.' Th ~ judge leaned his
head on his hand and fixed his gaze ndmiringly
on the crater, for whom he was willing to con-
fess he felt a strong liking.

When his splendid speech was finished, and
while there was a slight rustling, and the in-
evitable confusion preceding the charge of the
judge, he leaned toward the impassive physician
at his side, and whispered:

“ Dector, you have reason to be proud of that
boy; that was a magnificent speech."

“ Yes. pretty fair—pretty fairl” replied the
father, clearing his throat.

“I have listened to Webster and Clay, and I
I never heard then. make a finer peroration.”

“You’re extravagant, judge,” protested the
doctor, whose face could not conceal his pater-
nal pride, though he would not admit it. “ But
what does he expect to accomplish by that
speech? Where is the evidence that l‘supposed
he had in reserve?"

“I confess I am surprised. It may be said
that the defense is without any defense at all.
If the jury were called upon to premium!" their
verdict this minute, they would acquit the pris-
oner; but, after they have talked and consulted
together, there is but one thing for them to (lo,
and they will see it without any charge from
me. I must say something, hOWever, but it will
be brief.”

While the jury were out, not a person left the
room. The conviction was so general that they
would be absent only a short time that all were
more than willing to await the verdict.

After the departure of the jury, Fred Hazel-
tine leaned over so that his mouth was close to
the ear of the prisoner and whispered:

“There is disappointment everywhere at the
weakness of our defense; it is natural it should
be so.”

“ I am afraid you have presumed too far.”

“ It was the course I had determined on, after
the most careful consideration, as being the
only one that offered any prospect of winning.
Let them pronounce you guilty, and let the
gudg: name the day when you shall be hanged

yt e neck until you are dead;—all that will
convince thA real criminal that he is safe. He
will throw aside his caution and Ishall have

 

aha gpportunity I am waiting for to impale
1m.

“Pray Heaven that it may be so, but, you
can’t expect a man to feel very comfortable
when twelve of his countrymen declare on their
oaths that he is guilty of murder, and the pre-
siding judge pronounces his sentence of death."

“ I don’t imagine the sensation is very pleas-
ant, but you must cheer yourself up by the car-
tainty that you will never be hanged.’

“I must confess that there is a good deal of
cheer in your words, but they are not sufficient
to remove all misgivings.”

“ Now, my dear boy,” said the lawyer, lower-
ing his Voice, and almost touching the ear of his
client with his lips, “I will tell you something
that will startle you.”

“ What is it?’

“ You must brace yourself to restrain any ex-
citement you may feel at my words. You must
not start, nor look around, nor show by your
manner that I have uttered a word except that
which would be natural under the circum-
stances.”

“ I assure you I will not.”

“ There can be no doubt on_that point?” re-
marked Fred, inquiringly.

“I have had enough training during the last
few years to be able to stand anything. Let me
hear what you have to say.”

“ Well, the man who killed Kirke Warman
and his wife is in this reom this very minute
and is standing 'within twelve feet of us! He .
was here yesterday and he is looking at us
now i”

It was hard for Bayard to prevent himself
from leaping to his feet. Fred hoard him
breathe faster, and, fearful he would betra
gimself, he quietly placod his hand on his shoe -

er.

‘: Remember what 1 said—not a word. look or
start, for he is suspicious and sees nobody in the
court-room but you and me.” .

“II ho is he?"

“ I shall not tell you his name, for you could
not help frightening him by your manner. 1
don’t believe he will ever feel safe until you are
hanged and out of the way. He called on me
last night!"

Captain Bayard had his nerves under control
now, and talked with as much coolness as did
his counsel.

“ What was his business?”

" It was he who hired the two men to get the
pistol from me.”

“ How did he learn you had iti”

“From one of the children of the present
overseer. It gees to show that. despite your ut-
most care, you are liable to slip up at any time.
I cautioned the overseer and his wife, and noth—
ing ever could have been obtained from them,
but one of their children, unobserved by us, saw
the father hand me the pistol. The criminal
was furtively watching me, but from sucha dis-
tunes that he could net tell what it was that
came into my hands.”

“ How did he make out when he tried to pump

On?"

“I don’t think he learned much, but he man-
aged matters with excellent skill and had not
my suspicions been fixed on him, they never
could havo been aroused by his words or man-
ner.

“I don’t see why he should have been so
greatly concerned about the pistol alone?"

“it was not the pistol alone. His main pur-
pose was to learn whether I suspected him, or
rather whether I suspected any one besides you
of being the murderer.”

“ Do you think you misled him?”

“ I am confident I did so. Of course my office
as your counsel closed my lips as to any admis-
sion of my belief in your guilt, but you can un-
derstand that it was no: very difficult to convey
the impression I ought to give, without saying
so in words.”

“ It must cause him peculiar sensations to lis-
ten to the condemnation of a man whom he
knows to be innocent of a crime which be him-
self committed.” ’

“ His only peculiar sensations are the fear that
the innocent party will not be convicted.”

“ Why is he so suspicious when nothing has
appeared to alarm him?"

“ Partly because of the guilty conscience,
which will never allow him to rest. and artly
because the evidence for which he knows {)have

been searching so industriously, has not been
brought forward."

“ It ought to have the opposite effect.”

“ I hope it has, but you can understand why
he feels uneasy— ’Shi”

At this moment, there was a stir in the crowd
near the door, through which the jury had re-

 

 

.r

 

    

 

tired. Little more than half an hour had passed
since their withdrawal,and their absence was
probably due to the Wish to avoid unseemly haste
in disposing of such a weighty matter than from
an difi‘icuity in arriving at a conclusion.

reathless silence followed the jury’s entrance,
though there was not a person in the crowded
room who was not certain of the verdict. N ever-
theless, there is something awful in the sound of
the word “ GUILTY l" when pronounced by the
foreman of a jury which holds the fate of a hu-
man being in its hands.

Such was the verdict given in the court-room
of Buzzard’s Roost, where Captain Burd Bayard
had just been tried on the charge of murder of

he most shocking character.

 

CHAPTER XIX.
WEAVING THE WEB.

CAPTAIN BURD BAYARD was remanded for
sentence. It was evident that the judge expect-
ed his counsel to give notice of appeal or to maKe
some motion intended to prolong the time be-
tween the unfortunate youn man’s conviction
and execution, but Fred azeltiue remained
dumb!

Word was sent to Muriel within five minutes
after the verdict was rendered, with a significant
note from the lawyer that the end was not yet.
Then having played his game so successfully, he
set to work once more in earnest.

On the afternoon succeedin the conviction, he
heldalong interview with ayard in the jail.
The lawyer was poor and his client was rich.
Bayard compelled him to take a much larger
check than he thought necessary, instructed him
to spare not an hour or minute, but to push for-
ward, regardless of money or any consideration .
The sailor felt that he was standing in the shadow
of the gallows, and he could not force back aner
vous dread that the final effort had been post-
poned too long. ‘

“ Is there none whom you can get to help you i”
asked Bayard, at the cicae of their long consul-
ta ion.

“ i have tried to think of some one, but can
call noneto mind; I shall have to go it alone.
There are plenty who would gladly give their
hel , but they are not of the right stamp: alert,
wi e-awake, quick to catch a clue, and relentless
and skillful in carrying it out.”

“ I can think of no one,” added Captain Ba-
yard, “ and shall leave you to' succeed through
your own efforts and the help of Heaven.”

“The surveillance under which I have been
movin for the past week has been relaxed.
Nevert close, I am not for otten, and I think I
shall find it necessary to x up some kind of a
disguise for myself.”

"i hopne you will be more successful than I
was, but,uadded the sailor with great impres-
siveness, I am convinced of one thing: the key
to the secret {Lou must unravel to save my life is
zombe’ found the Haunted House and nowhere

“ I am as sure on are right as I am that we
are alive and talk ug together this minute. To
thghtfigunted Hausa, therefore. I,go this very
n1 . ‘

Ba ard shuddered. fl
’ on are as con rmed an unbeliever in
ghosts, he and all that sort of thing as I

at I 391 you, Frederick Hazeltine, that you will
be called upon to M t ugh an experience
that is enough to try the nerves of a man of

n. .
“ Bah 1” replied the young. lawyer with a sna
of his fingers, “such talk only makes me tug
more eager to Spend 8- , night there. I will take
apistol, and am ready to meet Beelaebub and

his whole ang.”
And wit a few more jetting words, he was

no.
ggirlie lawyer had fixed upon a clear line of pen.
cy to follow. He was anxious to learn the mean.
ing of the letters“ I”. L. M." which were in such
plain sight on the pistol. He had been unable as
yet tothink of any person whom they fitted, and
thus found himse f baffled in one direction before
he could take a step forward.

But his first visit was to his own home where
he found his parents and told them he wished to
venture out so fixed up that his identity would
not be ted by any one. His wishes were
gratified. ggth the doctor and his wife lending
fibfilp that when, in the 100:: of the even;

. 0 man s u e on o
the and.me [his most intimate friend
would not have suspected his taelrsouslity.

While thus engaged in go g ready. Fred’s
tongue was busy questioning his father, who con-
firmed what he had suspected, namely, that the

 

 

     

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

negro known as Jingle possessed valuable knowl-
edge about the crime of four years before. But
he had been “ hushed " in such an effective man-
ner that there seemed no possibility of getting
him to admit that he knew anything of the tra-

edy.

g “ l’ll fetch him i” muttered Fred as he strode
down the road, much as Captain Bord Bayard
had gone Over_it some nights before.

It need not be said that as the young man
moved along the road in the gloom of theeariy
evening, he kept his wits about him. He fancied
that some one had followed him at a distance
when he made his way to his father’s house, but
he was not sure on that point. _

The night was darker than "on the evening
which brought such a memorable experience to
Burd Bayard, but he could see objects quite dis-
tinctly several rods away. He peered in front
and behind, often pausin and listening with the
intensity of an Iroquois ndian in the camp of
his enemies.

“ It won’t be safe for any one to dog my foot-
steps,"he muttered, as he resumed his stealthy
advance; “ the time for jesting is past, and I
mean business—”

His heart gave a quick throb, for at that mo-
ment he caught the faint but unmistakable out-
lines of a man walking in the middle of the road
Just in front of him.

Without pans to reflect, Fred hurried seve-
ral steps and calle out in a suppressed voice:

“ Hold on!”

The man started with evident fear and faced
about. As he did so the law er observed that he
was a negro who was carry ng a large basket.

“ Wh-wh-wh-a-t you want, mates-sat” he ask-
ed in a chattering voice and with trembling
knees.

“ What’s your name!"

“ J ingle,” he replied. _

“ Answer me truthfully you will not be
hurt; but if you lie to me i’ll shoot you down in
your tracks. What have you in that basket!"

“ Witties."

“ Where did they come from?”

“De Cedars.”

“ W ho sent them?”

“ MPH. Havens.”

“ Where are you taking them i”

“Oher clar,’ and the negro pointed at the
Haunted House that coqu 6 located by the
trees and, dense vegetation by which it was sur-
rounded .

“ Ain’t you afraid to go there?”

“ No. massa, what am dare to scare—oh, I for-
got. I am crful scared to “flew”

Fred smiled to himself, The servant was evi-
dently following some hue of instruction which
he had forgotten for the moment.

“ See here,” said Fred,10werin his voice and
stepping closer to the African ; " know all about
you. Jingle, and will treat you right. You have
been told to let no one know about your visits
to the Haunted House—”

“ Golly, massa, who tole you dati”

“ Never mind; it‘s enough that I know it.
You are afraid to tell me what you know, but
you must do it, nevertheless, or it will be the
worse for you.”

Convinced that the servant was thoroughly
frightened, Fred clinched matters by taking an-
°t3°1r 32”“ ise th t h is

ve you my prom a w a ver you
tell me shall never hurt you. N o mattei; who
has threatened, he shall not harm you in the
least. Furthermore, I don’t expect you to give
such information as I want Without pay.”

Therequon the strange-lookin man, whose
identity ingle did not suspect, ended him a
golden eagle.

There was just enough light for the African to
identify it as he held it close to his eyes and then
“ hefted ” it in his hand. He fairly gasped with
delight, for it was the greats“ piece of good for.
tune that had ever befallen him.

In that moment in which J in lo realized the
value of the coin placed in his usky palm, be
bounded, so to speak, from the service of his
former emfilgyer to that of the munificeut
strgger. a transfer of his loyalty was com-
p e

“ Now, Jingle, you will keep secret what
passes between us.”

“ Reckons I will, boss, massa, for if I don’t I’ll
be.killed and hung and shot.”

‘J in lo. do you know anything about the
23% o the overseer, Mr. Warman, four years

9‘ Yes, sah," he whispered, “ I knows all 'bout
its,“ warn’t Mala Captain Bayard dat done

“Iknowthataswellas oudo. Wewillste
outof theroad,whereuogueiupasslngcanssg

 

13

us, and talk the matter over. Now, in the first
glace, did you leave the plantation and start for
uzzard’s Roost on that night that Pompey and
Pete ran away i"
“ Dat’s what I done, massa.”
“ Did you go with them?"
went alone by myself, widout any one

The important story which Fred Hazeltine
drew from Jingle, who, he was satisfied, was
speaking the truth, was that on the eventful
night of the visit to Buzzard’s Roost by P01!)th
and Pete they did not invite him to go wi
them. He overheard enough to understand
their plan, and, by way of revenge for the
slight, determined to give them a good scare.

He followed them some time after their de—
parture, intending to meet them on their return
and terrify them out of their wits. On coming
near Kirke Warman‘s house howevsr, Jingle
was so frightened himself lest the overseer-
should detect him in passing along the highway,
that he climbed the fence and started to flank it
by going behind the building.

At the very moment he was opposite the rear
of the structure be caught the sound of a pistol-
shot from within, quick y followed by a second.
Jingle was terrified and stood still, not knowing
what to do. W bile he was hesitating, he saw a
horseman ride up in front of the house and dis-
mount. He was so far off that J in la could not
identify him, but at the moment 0 reining up,
another man leaped out of the second-story
window at the rear and started on a run toward
the very spot where Jingle was standing.

The negro was terrified, but it was evident
from the action of the man that he was trying
to avoid a meeting with the horseman in front
and held no suspicion of the servant.

The latter was uick-witted enough to slip
behind the trunk o the nearest tree, where he
made sure the other could not see him.

As the white man ran, he continually glanced
over his shoulder as if to assure himself he was
not followsd. Thus he paid more attention to
what was behind than to what was in front. and
Jingle needed but to use ordinary discretion to
escape detection.

As the stranger increased his dltance from
the house, he dropped down to a hurried walk.
His disarrauged clothing showed that he had
been engaged in a violent struggle.

“It we a bright. moonlight night, I believe
J inglei" remarked Fred, when the negro had
finished his striking narrative.

“ De moon were shinin’ like it war de sun.”

“ Did ’you get a fair view of the man’s face?”

“I seed it ten times plainer dan I see yours
dis berry minute.” -

“ Who was hel”

The no ro stood a minute as if afraid to pro'
nouncc t e name. Fred Hazeltine leaned for-
ward and said kindly :

“ Don’t be afraid; you shall suffer no harm
for it.”

The n glanced over each shoulder and
then beh nd him, as if fearful of beln over-
head. Then he pointed at the Haunted cues
and said in a bus whisper:

“ Daere’s where e libs. he done it!”

CHAPTER XX.
“ unusual I HAVE romm Ir!"

“You are right,” said Fred hazeltiuefire-
pressing his emotion; “but why have an apt
this a secret? Such testimony w have
cleared poor Captain Bayard.” - .

“ I dunno ’za’ctly how it was ” replied Jingle,
scratching his head in a puzzled way, “but
somehow or other, dat man found out dat
knowed sumfin’ 'bout what took place datnight.
Ma be he heard of some words dat I let drap,
for e come to me and tooken me of! to one side,
gib me ten dollars and said he would remember
me ag’in if I only kept my mouth shot, but d‘at
if I ever said a word, he would hoot me dead.
and I’ve ueber said a word since den till die

night to you. and I wouldn’t bah said it to you -

if you hadn’t treated me so nice.”

Fred handed another golden coin to Jingle, v

adding the unnecessary caution for him tokeep
his secret, and then left him.

Just as the negro was moving away, he called "
he nod

him back and asked how it was
entrance into the Haunted House. The w
servant handed him a key which he aid he

carriedwith him for cars. J is addedfull': f,
and accurate information aboutnfhe interiors! f 

theyoung man walked for

th buildin
° than hehad

ward with lfi'gher
he became I

felt .Iiuce
“a. the of Captain Bus-d _
Ashe anticipated, he found on apprch »

.
4““

   

 

    

 

W-~-‘-
. _, .

. Owned the pistol which caused the death of

'f-r ,. .u~nrvv-",.._..- .  . .-

1 4-

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

 

 

he mysterious building that all was dark and
silent vs the tomb.

“ Many a strange secret is hidden behind
thorn walls,” he muttered, as be halted for a
minute or two in front of the structure, “ but
the most momentous of all shall be given up
to-night.”

Having decided on his course, Fred Hazeltine
was not the one to hesitate on the threshold.

Softly trying the heavy front door. he found
it locked. The key obtained from Jingle was
then inserted, and it turned so readily as to
prove that it had rformed the same office
many times. The oor swung inward without
the least noise, and, with just an additional
flutter of the heart, the young man entered.

The door was closed with the same caution
behind him and the key withdrawn. It was not
locked of course, for the intruder thought it
likely he would find himself in nl-ed of the
means of a quick and unobstructed with-
drawn].

Fairly‘withingthe Haunted House, Fred stood
in the broad hall already described. It was
dimly illuminated by a fire burning on the
hearth in the large sitting-room, just as Burd
Bayard found when he made his memorable
call. Without. the least trepidation, the visitor
entered the. mom, and seeing how faint the
light was, walked forward and stirred the smol-
dering fagots on the hearth. The apartment
became as light as day.

At this moment, he heard a slight noise over-
head, as if some one was walking stealthin
over the fl00r. Fred stood in the attitude of
listening, but the sound ceased immediately.

On the mantel, rested Volumes which he pro-
Ceeded to examine. The first was a copy of
Paradise Lost, the second Book of Common
Prayer, and the third a Bible. The last was old
and yellow with age.

Bending over, so as to allow the light to fall
on the page, the lawyer turned to the record of
births. marriages and deaths. Two minutes
later be straightened up with a start, and the
whispered exclamation:

“ Eureka I I have found it I”

Found what? He had learned who it was that

Kirke Warmsn and his wife. The problem of
the initials, “ P. L. M.” had been solved, and he
coald only wonder that it had baffled him so

ong.

Despite his iron nerves, Fred trembled with
excitement, for the discovery could not have
been more important.

He was standing thus in dee thought and
had just secured control of himse f again, when
the outer door opened and closed with a bang.
and , the heavy footfell in the hall showed that
some man had entered behind him.

“ He is going to enter ” was the thought of
Fred, who deftly slip the Bible under his
coat. and drew his pistol, for now that he was in
for it, he did not mean to be caught at a disad.
vantage.

He was not a momenttoosoon. Hardly was
the weapon drawn, when the door was shoved
open and “ P. L. M.” stepped into view. He re.
coiled when he caught sight of the stranger (it
will be remembered that Fred Haseltine was dis-
guised, and demanded:

“ What does this mean! Why are on here?”

“ I came to spend the night; but don't like
the look of t in: s and will withdraw.”

“ A burglar, eh,caught in the act? You don’t
get out of here until you give an account of your-
self and I have a chance to search your clothing
for stolen geods.”

Fred pointed his pistol.

“ If you will stand aside, you will save me
the tropble of shooting, and I've got your exact
range.

It takes a brave man to defy a leveled weapon
only a few feet from his ‘face, and P. L. M. was
not lacking in discreti In.

" Get out, then! If I had had a suspicion,
this would be the last burglary you ever com-
mitted."

Fm! strode toward the door, the other step-
ping flrlw - out of his way. The lawyer kept his
loaded au-i rocked weapon in his hand, and
never once removed his eyes from the other,
w ho was watching his opportunity.

Fred believed he must have a pistol and Won-
dered that he did not draw it. , Probabl his
own alertness prevented the attempt, a he

out and closed the door behind him with-
out au demonstration from the indignant occuc
pant o the Haunted House.

The handsome oung counselor tried hard to
walkwithadign ed step and to avoid all an-

’ hasteof movement. but when the re- i

 

'mdingroportof amusketrung‘out onther

night air and the ball nipped his car, he did not
hesitate to leap several feet from the ground and
to break into a run which speedily carried him
beyond all danger.

elieving that P. L. M. would attempt to
follow him. especially if he noticed the ab-
sence of the Bible, Fred secreted himself un-
der the shadow of the nearest trees and
watched.

Sure enough, a few moments later the figure
of a man emerged from the short lane leading
to the Haunted House and hurried OH in the
direction he supposed the burglar had taken.

Fred smiled as he witnessed the action, and,
waiting until the fellow was out of sight, he
started for home. He had to go only a short
distance when he turned off at a fork of the
road, and felt safe against encountering the in-
dividual again.

It was not unnatural that the young lawyer
should feel in jubilant spirits. He was light—
hearted and hopeful, and the success of the eve-
ning had been unbounded.

“ I have found out the owner of the pistol; I
have found Jingle who S'lW and identified the
man that shot the overseer; Burd Bayard has
not yet been sentenced, but it is to be called
up day after to~morrow; I will see the judge
tom. "1'07! and secure a stay of proceedings
on the ground of newly-discovered and im-
portant evidence; another trial will be granted,
and everything— What the mischief is up
now?"

The last question was caused by the sound of
a carriage approaching at a furious rate. It
was coming from behind him, and the horse
was traveling as he was not accustomed to
travel.

“Something extraordinary, sure,” concluded
Fred, stepping to one side of the road to es-
cape being run over. “My gracious! It’s fa-
ther!”

There could be no mistaking the old gig,
which bounded and bobbed and swayed in
a way that threatened to shatter it to frag-
ments.

“ Helloa, father! hold on I” shouted Fred, leap-
inginto the road behind the Vehicle.

at he was just too late. The old physician
did not hear him, or, if he did, failed to recog-
nize the voice, and he kept forward with un-
abated speed.

Fred was fleet of foot, and he started on a run,
but the bay mare was at her best pace also, and
drew away so rapidly that he quickly gave ovsr
the contest.

But he was almost overcome by the sudden
dread that his mother had been taken seriously
ill. and his father was hastening to her side. It
ml ht puzzle him toexplain how the intelligence
con d have been carried so as to bring him in
such haste, but his love for his mother shut out
all speculation, and he hurried down the road,
walking fast, and eager to reach home without
delay.

Every other thought was driven away for the
moment, by the dreadful anxiety for his be-
loved parent. He felt that no triumph could
compensate for his absence from her death-

Fortunately, he had not far to travel when he
dashed into the house, forgetful of his disguise,
intent only on learning the truth.

To his unspeakable delight, the first person
on which his eyes rested was his mother, who
laughed when she looked at the odd make-up of
her only child.

“ 1 am glad you have come,” she said, after
he had hugged and kissed her, “ for your father
is anxious to see you; he has some important
news.”

“ Where is he?”

“ In his office; he turned his horse over to
Jack and said he would give a thousand dollars
if he could see you at once. ”

“ He shall have that privilege without
paying a cent for it.” remarked Fred, mak-
ing a dash for the office, where he found his
parent more agitated than he had seen him for
years.

“ What’s u , father?” .

“Thank eaven l” exelaimed the old phy-
sician, springing from his chair and seizing the
hand of his son;“ I have had an experience to-
night that I shall rememberall my life. ”

“ I saw you making for home like a crazy per-
son and called to you, but you did not hear me.
I am anxious to learn what you have seen that
so disturbs you.”

“ I went up in the mountains this evening to
attend a man who has but a day or-two to live.
Convinced that he must die. he ll filled with re-
morse for his life and made a startling con-

 

  ,” firing;- - .ir- my. ,._...u.h:,a... » s._-   ,. s!-wisest-vadieu-
massif. ‘ ' -   

feesion. He handed me that pistol, saying he
stole it from you.”

Fred smiled as he took the weapon, for he
recognized it as the one that had been stolen
from under his pillow when he was aslee in the
old country t-ivern known as the Blue Bear.
He briefly related the story.

“That corresponds with what he told me,
though he believes it is the pistol with which the
overseer was shot and does not know of the mir-
take he made. But he told me who it was that
killed Kirke Warman and his wife.”

Fred could not avoid t0uching the old gentle-
man.
“But you have known that for four years.
Of course you convinced him of his mistake and
convinced him that it was Burd Bayard.”

“No; it was not Burd; I, like nearly every
one else, was mistaken; Burd is as innocent of
the crime as I am! Great heavens! suppose it
had not been found out for some Weeks or
months! An innocent person would have been
hanged!”

“How long will this man in the mountains
live fatheri"

“ He will last twenty-four hours, and perhaps
a little longer, but he is doomed. You must see
him in the morning and fix this thing up."

“ Depend upon it I shall do so."

CHAPTER XXI.
run: SECRET or run HAUNTED Honsn.

Faun HAZELTINE, the brilliant counselor and
devoted friend of Hard Bayard, did his work
thoroughly and well. Early the following
morning, he and his father, accompanied, too,
by a justice of the peace, rode to the lonely hut
in the mountains, back of Buzzard’s Roost,
where they found Mart Spike within a few
hours of his death. He was anxious to do all
he could toundo the great wrong to which he
had been a party, and his confession was
taken down, signed and properly witnessed,
so that the keenest judicial mind could pick no
flaw in its wording or intent, or weaken its
force. - .

The man who hired Mart Spike and a com—
panion to steal the pistol from Fred Hazeltine,
instructed them to secure it at all hazards, even
if it was necessary to shoot him. In fact, he
preferred that they should do this somewhere
along the lonely road, for he believed that he
would be thus rid of the only man whom he had
to fear—a troublesome intermeddler who seemed
unwilling to let matters alone, and who was li-
able to involve the real criminal in peril at any
moment.

While Spike and his companion had been
guilty of many crimes, they were reluctant to
add murder to them, and so decided upon the
scheme which was afterward carried out.
Spike’s companion after receiving the reward
for his services, fled the country and could not
be found.

The true criminal was Jed Johnson, a cousin
of Kirke Warman, the murdered overseer, and
he committed the crime solely for money. He
had been overseer before Warman, and was a
cruel taskmastter, who, however, voluntarily
resigned his office and took up his residence at
the Golden Bear in Buzzard's Roost, accom-
panied by his deformed wife, who was believed
to possess considerable wealth, though the couple
were never blessed with children.

The crime was incited by the money which
Warmau had in his possession, and which was
secured by the miscreants. who conducted the
business with such skill that, but for the work
of Fred Hazeltine, suspicion never would have
turned against him.

J ed Johnson married the daughter of Peter L.
Morford, livi only a few miles from Buz-
zard’s Roost. e pistol had originally belonged
to Morford, comin into the possession of John-
son through his wi e.

The most carefully-planned crime is sure to
have a weak point somewhere which invariably
betrays the truth to the skillful eye. The fatal
ovarsight of Jed Johnson was in leaving the tell-
tale initials on the finger-guard of the pistol with
which he committed the awful deed.

A your previous to the death of Colonel
Haven. Johnson and his deformed wife moved
into the Haunted House. They kept their
presence a sacret, so that yer few, if any,
gutzide of Colonel Haven’s fami y, knew of the

so .

It is now necessary to take a backward step
and return to the terrible night when Kirke
Yuri?!“ and his wife suffered such a shocking

eat . ' '

Ithas been toldthat Bard Bayard escaped

4‘__.

AMLKIt .r-lt..,'....r.'r ,-

 

 

 

 

 

 

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

15

 

 

 

 

from arrest by the narrowest possible chance, I and it was that fear which checked more than

but some fea tures of his experience remain to be
made known.

Before he fled from the neighborhood, where
nearly every one was bounding him to death, he
remain: d fora couple of days in concealment at
The Cev'ars, under the care of Muriel. So at-
attached were the lovers that, when he made his
stealthy flight in the night, she went with him,
determined to share his fate.

By some means, never clearly known, Colonel
Haven suspected the truth and pursued the
couple. He captured his daugher, just as she
was about to embark, and came within a hair of
shooting Bord Bayard. He got away, however,
ani the broken~hearted daughter was taken
back to The Cedars.

N.) pen can picture the terrible wrath of
Colonel Haven. Proud, high-spirited, imperi-
ous, and breaking no opposition to his will, be
disowned his daughter, and forbade her over to
speak to him or her mother again. Not only
that, but be turned her from his home, saying
he cared not whither she went, excepting that
if he ever learned she had taken up with the
fugitive murderer, he would shoot her dead,
vovenif be bad to follow her to the uttermost
cenflnes of the earth.

The wife of Colonel Haven dared not thwart
his implacable will, or allow him to know that
she violated his command in the least respects
but she was a mother and could not shut out the
love for her only child from her heart. She
arranged with Jed Johnson and his wife that
Muriel should make her home with them, she
paying them liberally for their tenderest and
most attentive care.

Dector Hazeltine also called regularly at
the Haunted House to look after the young
lady, whose affliction and anguish of mind
threatened to become heavier than she could
bear. Her brain gave way to a partial ex-
tent, but her hallucination was of a mlld char-
acter and kept her in the heuse for days and
weeks at a tune.

Thus matters stood until, at the celebration
of the feast of Saint Michael the Archangel at
The Cedars, Colonel Haven was fatally stricken
with apeplc‘X_v'. Prompted by an impulse which
It would he presumptuous for us to attempt to
explain, Muriel hastened to The Cedars that
night. and when Colonel Haven drew his last
breath, the head of his only child rested on his
breast and the two murmured words of affec-
‘tien'te each other.

Then Muriel quietl returned to the Haunted
House and continu the unspeakably dreary
existence she had led so long.

Meanwhile, Jed Johnson cunningly used
every means at his command to confirm the
belief that the old dwelling was the home of a
number of departed spirits. His submissive
wife was easily persuaded to act the part of
the apparition. The tall. unightly fl re
which appeared at the window-panes, emfu at
which Burd Bayard vainly discharged his is-
tel, was composed mainl of an efligy that er.
husband constructed. he carried it above
her shoulders. and all her strange performances,
when critically examined, will be found to
have been no more than any person could have
accomplished with similar facilities at his dis-

posa .

The wonderful music which so entranced Burd
Bayard was the voice of his beloved, who little
dreamed of the identity of him held enchanted
by its spell.

The mother of Muriel made stolen visits to
her daughter and gave her every possible
attention. She was compelled to tell her, how-
ever, that the rehibition of her father
against her marr age to Burd Bayard was ir-
revocable, and the mother assented, for, as has
been shown, the was as implicit a believer in
the guilt of the young sea-captain as was the
father.

Mrs. Haven was about making arrange-
ments to bring her child beneath her own
roof. after the death of her husband, when
Burd Bayard appeared on the scene and in-
uugnrated the events we have attempted to de-
scribe.

The laws of the human mind are unknown. if
not unknowable. The shock caused by the
arrest, trial and conviction of Bayard com-
gletely restored the tone of Muriel Haven’s

rain, and she passed through the ordeal like
gold which is thus freed of its dross.

The reader will recall that hints have been

thrown out concerning another fear which ‘

haunted Bard Bayard. It was his dread that
his beloved was not yet entirely herself men-
tally. Ho fancied, from her manner. that she
was not fully responsible for all she said and did,

 

One utterance tre'nbling on his tongue.

The guardian of the Honda gill was the real
murderer of Kirke W ammo and his wife!

During the trial of Burd Bayard. the wife of
Jed J obnson died in the Haunted House. Mrs.
Haven immediately removed her daughter to
her own home. She saw that the deceased wo-
man was iven Christian burial, thou h as yet
the l(:ldl y was far from suspecting t 0 whole
trut .

When Fred Hazeltine and his friends had
completed the transcription of Mart Spike’s
confession, they redntered the carriage standing
at the door and set out for the residence of
Judge Huntoou, who presided at the trial of
Bum Bayard.

They had not ridden far when the justice,
who held the lines, looked back with the re-
mark:

“There’s a man on horseback following us."

The others turned their heads, and Fred, who
had the keenest vision, asked:

“ Who do you suppose it is?”

At that the others looked again, and Doctor
Hazeltine said:

“ It is Jed Johnson, as sure as I live. I won-
der whether he suspects our business? ’

“ No doubt of it; he is very suspicious and

seems hardly chr to have taken his eyes from
me.
The individual, who just then occupied the
thoughts of all, kept back as though seeking to
avoid observation, but when about half the dis-
tance was passed he changed his mind. A turn
in the road seemed to have given him the idea
that the party were on their way to the resi-
dence of Judge Hunteon, and he spurred so
rapidly forward that in a few minutes he drew
rem at their side, at the same moment that the
justice of the peace checked the animal he was
driving.

He returned the salutation of all three, who
saw that his face was unusually pale. Doubtless
he sus ected the truth.

“ ell, did you get it?" was the strange ques-
tion he asked.

“Get what?" asked the bluff doctor.

“ The confession of Mars Spike.”

“ Yes: we have it all here—evory word of it.”
replied the physician, “and it roves you the
greatest Scoundrel in Ma'ryland.’

“ There can be no doubt of that, but the
county shall never be put to the expense of my
as,

re you goin to run awe i”

“ Yes: in this s'tzyle." y

And before any one could suspect the meanin
of the declaration he whipped out his pistol an
pointed it at his own forehead.

“Spike told you the truth: I killed Kirke
Warman and took his money—good-by l”

The pistol was discharged, and he rolled from
his saddle a dead man at the moment bis startled
horse broke into a gallop and dashed down the
highway.

 

CHAPTER XXII.
CONCLUSION.

CAPTAIN Bum) Bank!) was filled with
strange emotion as he sat in his cell wondering
why Fred Hazeltine did not put in an appear-
ance. He had received a message from him
that everything was going well and that he
would drop in at the earliest moment. but the
day was drawin to a close and nothing more
was seen or hear from him.

“Everything is going well, so he writes,”
mused the prisoner, glancing at the note he had
read several times, “ but though that meansa
great deal it cannot mean enough. I may be
acquitted, and I believe I shall be, but the insu-
perable obstacle to my union with Muriel re-
malns. .Were Colonel Haven alive to see my
vindication he might withdraw that prohibition,
which is meant for life; but he died without re-
call"! it. and new it never can be recalled.
Marie will not dare disregard that warning of
her dead parent, and, no matter what comes, I
shall not urge her—”

Here he was at last! The same irrepressible
Fred, bailing over with high spirits and hope,
and scattering gloom as the sunlight drives out
the shadow from the valley.

“ Your hand, old fellowl”wasthe first set-
ing, as with his hat on the back of his h , the
floung lawyer thrust his palm forward and gave

urd a pressure of the fingers that made him
wince. ‘ Fix up oursclf to go home with me l”

“ To go home th you 1” repeated the amazed
prisoner; " are you crazy!"

“I’m blessed if I don’t suspect so. Yeurin-
nocence has been sat-e hlisbcd. the guilty party

 

has not only been discovered, but be was kind
enough to confess before he blew out his brains;
Judge Huntoon has ordered your discharge
from custody, and my carriage is waiting out—
side to take you home. I have kept the news
quiet, or all the citizens of Buzznrd’s Roost
would be here to give you the royal welcome
you deserve.”

Burd could only stare with open mouth until
his friend became more composed and told the
story with which the reader is familiar.

“No words can express my gratitude,” said
Bayard, sitting in his chair, too faint and weak
for the moment to rise to his feet; “ under Hea-
ven my everlasting thanks are due you for our
noble work. For four years I have rest un-
der a cloud darker than death: when I had
given over all hope it has cleared away and I
am new bathed in the sunlight of innocence,
and command the respect of those who have
known me from infancy.

“ I cannot complain because I was so general-
ly believed guilty, for no case could have been
stronger against me. Men have been hanged
many a. time for misdeeds that were no more
convincingly proven than was the murder of
Kirke Warman by me.

” But, Fred,” added Captain Bayard, in a
tremulous voice, “ you can understand that
while I feel thus, perfect happiness can never
come to me.”

“ Why not?"

‘l‘g‘he bar to my union with Muriel is eter-
na .

“But when every one knows that if Colonel
Haven were living, he would be the first to take
yen by the hand and ask your pardon for his
suspicion, is that not a moral removal of the
ban to your union?”

But the hapless prisoner, who now begauto
stir himself with a view of accompanying his
friend from the jail, shook his head.

“ I have tried to persuade myself to that
view, and at times almost succeeded, but Muriel
is a girl with such an extremely sensitive con-
science that she Would not be satisfied, and it
would break my heart to know that she con—
sented to a step against her own conscience.”

“ You are certain on that point?"

There was a peculiar significance in this ues-
tion which caused Burd to look inquiring y in
the face of his friend, who was standing before
him with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“ on’t you agree with me?” asked the sailor.

“ I do.”

“ Have you any doubts on that point!”

“ None at all; in fact, I know you are right.”

“ Then how can you jest with moi”

" I love you too much, Bard, to trifle with
your feelings: but I have a letter in my pocket
which may shed some light on the matter that
troubles you so much. Here it is.”

As the amazed Burd Bayard took the sealed
envelope, his heart gave a painful thrill. He
recognized the handwriting of his beloved, and
he felt that the supreme moment of his life was
at band.

The letter contained not a word by Muriel.
The inclosure was in the handwriting of Colonel
Haven and was addressed to Doctor Hazeltine.
Bayard noticed, that the date was less than a.
year vprevious.

“ hen the truth came out, this morning,”
explained Fred Hazeltine, “ father sent that let.
ter to Muriel with his congratulations. He
said she would understand it without any ex-
planation from him, and you don’t need any
from me."

And this was the letter, in the handwriting
of a man who had been dead more than half a
year.

“ MY DEAR Docroaz—Semebow or other a
stran e thought has troubled me of late. ,I have
foun myself more than once struggling with
the question, ‘ Can it be possible. after all, that
Burd Bayard did not assassinate Kirke Warman
and his wife?” I am impatient with myse If that
such a question should enter my thoughts, for
never was there a clearer casein the history of
crime and criminals; but, self-disgusted as I am,
I cannot drive the section from my mind.
Like the ghost in the p y it will not down.

“ I am sitting alone to-night with the fogging
stronger upon me than ever that there is a -
bility that "a fearful wrong has been done the
young man whom I once oved as in own son.

am not‘superstitious, but it may be but there-
in I see the shadow of coming events and I ma
be nearer my own end Ethan my ends w
think.

“ You will understand from what I have
written why it is I am prompted to utcn paper
my wish that if ever in the order 0 Providence
the innocence of Bard Bayard should be estab-

 

 

   
 

._ 4. -- L“; ._ f...

i
D
l
t
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1—? 9.1."... V

16

Burd Bayard’s Close Call.

  

 

lished, you will convey my prayer for the for-
giveness to him, in case you are living, and I
am not, and say to him that my most earnest
prayer is that he and Muriel may become man
and wife.

“In case the mystery remains unsolved at
.your death, you will leave this paper to your
son, who will not make its contents known ex-
cept the contingency I have named arises.

‘ I hope that Bard Bayard’s innocence may
be proven, though I fear it will not be. How-
ever, I feel better for having put this on paper,
for I have averted all possibility of any human
being suffering wrong through act of mine.

“ LLOYD HAVEN.”

We have said that the letter contained noth-
ing from the pen of Marie] Haven. Tnat asser-
tion must be qualified. At the bottom of this
extraordinary missive was the following sen-
tence in her wellrknown graceful hand:

“ My dearest, I await your coming! M. H.”

 

Palermo lay shimmering in the sunlight one
summer day. Never did that lovely plain, in-
closed in mountains and known as the “ Golden
Shell,” look more enchanting than when, crown-
ed with its wealth of tropical vegetation, the
trio of surrounding lofty ridges were bathed in
blue of the cloudless sky. The Marina, that re-
markable terrace, swept for a mile along the
bay, and the Saracen architecture of the city
was as quaint and grim and striking as on that
Easter day, March 30, 1282, when the natives
rose against Charles of Anjou and inaugurated
the great masaacre which has come down in his.
tory under the name of the “ Sicilian Vespers.’

Among the shipping in the harbor was the
saucy American vessel, the Albatross, on the
point of hoisting sail and passing out on the
broad bosom of the Mediterranean. Mate Sim-
mons is now the captain, and when all is ready,
a boat is descried apjproaching the Albatross in
haste. The lady an gentleman who are being
rowed out on the water are evidently expected,
for pleased looks appear on the faces of the
crew, who are the same men that made such a
sturdy effort to rescue their beloved captain
when he lay in the jail at Buzzard’s Roost on
the other side of the world awaiting a shameful

 1

It is Burd Bayard and his wife who step on
deck and receive right royal welcome from his
devoted friends, that are never tired of hearing
from his lips the wonderful story of his rescue
from the jaws of death and of his union with the
beautiful and lovely Muriel Haven, whose devo-
tion to him never faltered.

And when the prow of the Albatross cleav
the blue Mediterranean, she hears with her th
couple. blessed and happly in each other’s love
The Albatross does not esitate to sail straighg
up the Chesapeake and drop anchor almost m
the identical spot where she lay on that neve
to-be-forgotten night. Before leaving her decr-
for the last time, Burd Bayard makes over tk
Ca tain Simmons and his crew the entire own0
on ip of the little vessel all love so well. '

And as wife and husband step upon the wharf
and shortly after start for their home at The
Cmiars, they are met by the dignified, happy
mother: who intolds each in turn with a mur-
mured ‘God bless you, my children!”

Tan: END.

 

Beadle’s Half-Dime library.

DY LIEU'I‘. A. K. SIMS.

589 Tom-Oat and l’ordt or. The Dead Set at Silver City.
622 Tom- )nt's Triad; or. The Alhiir at Tombstone.
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688 Tom-Cat's Triumph 0r, Black [Sun's Gil-at ombino.
540 Oaptuiii Cactus, the lisp-mil Cock; or. Josh’s Ten Strike
668 The Dandy oi' Dodzc; or. Rustiing tor Millions.
576 The Silver Sport; or. .iosh Psiiperniint’s Jubilee.
588 fiaii‘ron Sol. the Man With it Shadow
601 Ila p “our, the Dutch Vidncq: or, Hnt'l'iiiiesat Round-Up
611 Bil ad llurnncic, ths Detective Hercules,
646 Oowho Gid, the Cattle-Range Detective.
651' Warbler"; “ ililgm the. Mountain Mountebanh
665 .lolly Jeremiah. the Plains Detective.
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61 Marmaduke, the Mostanzer Detective.

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35 Lone "and Joe the Committee oiOne.

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Dcuthvood Dick Novels.

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76 Dendwood Dick on Deck: nr, Calamity .' iiie.the Heroine
1:5 llicudlwooi‘:  IJLIat  or. Corduroy Charlie.

em woo c :1 cm \ c.
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[09 Deadwood Dick ur Dctccthc.
190 Deadwood Dick‘s Double: onThc GlrrKon's Gulch Ghost.
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4 cu- woot c ' is .- i: Ntr 't‘ 0r, A Game of Gold.
166 Dcndwood IDIcl.’ oi IDs-ad woo i or,'lhu Picked Party.
195 chudwood Dick'i- [Dr-cum: or, The Rlvuis olthe Rood.
201 Deadwood DIck’ss ii 11rd: or. The iiiucir lllll’sJezehei.
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r FIN 1Y0!" (' ‘ I (‘IH (a e
221 Deadwood Dick‘s licatii-l'lant.
932 Gold-Dult Dick. A Ronninrrof Rough and Toughs.
 Roadwoot: :ul'llf’l :Dli'ldc'; or, The Spirit ofSwamp Lake.
cm wom c "s Dciitii ‘rull.
Deadwood Dick'u Deal; or, The fluid Brick oi Oregon.
“eugn'oml'  ll'NDZt-llt 0". 'i‘h‘u Faki‘r ni'ri'lngitoiu Flats

en woot c a "('IIitl: or, iriys n t e lirin s.

 [lieniiwoog I'v'ol's",8(;llli.l"lst'(‘tl: or, his Terrible gadget“.
‘ ciu woo c il ‘ n III.

405 Deadwood Dick In Dcnd (‘it .

4l0 Deadwood Dick’u Diamond».y

431 Deadwood Dick in Now York; or, A “Cute Case."

430 lDeisdwood chk'u Dust; nr,'i‘hc Chained Hand.

14‘! :Dcadwooi: :“cllf,  “rift-n.- Criinson Crescent Sign.

' 0111 “'00! 0 ', I'. I. 0 "1101‘.

453 Dcndwood Dick. Jr.’~ Full "and.

45!) Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dig Round-lip.

465 Dcudwood Dick Jr.’a Iinckci sit (‘luim 10.
471 Deadwood Dick, Jr}: Corral; or, Housman Bill.
27:11.:01N'lw0tnll :illclk, .lr.‘u, D‘oz I'Dctcctlve.

S cm “'001 D c \‘. .Dr. in loot “00d.

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406 Dcndwood Dick .lr.’~. Inheritance.
Mm Dcudwooa Dick, .Ir.'s ill izinirs.
608 Dciidwood Dick, .Dr.’-. Dc ii'crance.
5 Deadwood Dick .ir.‘s Protein-c.
522 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'u. 'I‘lrrcc.
529 ‘Deiidwood Dick. .lr.’i-. Donut-r Duckl.
5:51 Deadwood Dick. .1 r.’~, Dciiih llunt.
giili Demlwi‘im‘l  5'" ii" llitil‘ilw tVid
- out w m c i, r., ic ( es
549 Dcitdwood Dick, Jr., on Ills Dottie?“
551. Dcudw'ooil Dick. .Ir., In Gotham.
561 Dciidwood Dick. Jr., Iii Horton.
567 Deadwood Dick, In, in Philadelphia.
5T2 Deadwood Dick, .lr.. In Chicago.
578 Dcudwood Dick. Jr" Ailoot.
5H4 Dcisdwoon Dici.. an. in chnvcr.
690 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'u, Dccrcc.
59.1 Dcmiwood Dick Jr., in llcclzchnb’s Ditsiii.
600 Deadwood Dick, .lr., sit Concy Island.
606 Dcndwood Dick. Jr.'u, l.cudvillc Liiy.
 ’Dcutliwooill  air" 'in (D‘s-trio”. "
. l‘ilt woos c '. r. II .nc nnii .
694 Deadwood Dick. Jr., in chudu.
680 Deadwood Dick. Jr., in No Man’s Land.
 :endwoog Rich. in, 'Ai'tfiréhle Quccr.
eoiu'oo c r.. II n n o.
6118 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'a, OhmicAcroiistheContinent
 :cugwoocli llnc'lé. 3b.: Alinomz the fissiiigglers.
en wooi c , r. in, nails-once .aac.
666 Deadwood Dick, Jr.. Duck in the Mines.
672 Deadwood Dick. .lr.. in Dnriinzor or. “ Gathered in."
 {gatiwoog  graze glut-glvery;ur,FonndsFoituns.
i woo c '. r. ii. an c.
690 Deadwood Dick .lr.’ii. Dollar-I.
695 Dcudwood Dick: .lr.. at leich’ Divide.
 I'D’cndlwooi‘lI llil‘t'llt. .'l'i-.‘~, Driop.k P c
cm woo c ' r. at . ac - o .
1’10 Dcailwood Dick, Jr.’ in San Francilco.
7m Deadwood Dick, 1.3.. stiii “out.
792 Deadwood Dick, .Ir.‘a Dominocs.
728 Dcmiwood Dick. Jr.’u lDisgulI-c.
731 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’a, Douhlc Dcnl
740 Dciidwoml Dick Jr.’s. Deathwatch.
7 Dciidu'ood liick, .lr.’u, Iionlilct.
1'52 DI alwood Dick. Jr.’il. Dcathhlow.
75" Deadwood Dick, .Dr.’a Dcupcrate Strait.
1’64 Dcndwood Dch, .lr.’s. Lone an .
1'70 Deadwood Dick. elf-'1‘ Dei'cat.
7T6 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’is. Resurrection.
 rest: wont;  ain’t-"Ila": Days.
‘ Den woot c r., c e .
792 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'s. Double Device.
792’ Deadwood Dick, Jr’J. Desperate Venture.
809 Dcudwood ch ', Jr.’s, Diamond Dice.
H0? Deadwood Dick Jr.’n, Royal Flush.
3i: ii°“3"°°‘.i iii‘l‘.’ “3"?” iii“"i'°“' "
en woo c . r. is. vs.
829 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’u, Doom.
828 Deadwood Dick, Ji~.‘il. Scoop.
834 Deadwood Dick, .lr.’u, l'rox .
S40 Deadwood Dick. .lr.’u, Clutc .
845 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’i-, lllrh “one.
852 [Deadwood Dick .lr., at l evil’s Gulch.
85% Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dcuth-llole "natio-
 Basswood  :l'r.‘r'llohs'nhs.hcli.
cu woo! c r.. n ex co.
are Deadwood Dick: Jr’il Decoy Duck.
882 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in flilvcr Pocket.
891 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’s, Dcndfiurc Game.
89“ Deadwood Dick, Jr’s, D‘onble Drive.
 lDcii‘t‘iwooi'i  git-3a. 'l'rl-‘ndc'i‘Mark.
Den wooi c '. r..itt - on.
916 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’s Dongle-Decker.
 Bcagwoog luck. Jr. at‘ ligllafitg‘llle‘.‘
ca woo c ', . r.. u. ur- a
940 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'u. Shake-u .
046 Deadwood Dick, .lr.‘n, Double row.
9.“ Deadwood Dick. Jr.’s. Right Bower.
05’? Deadwood Dick, Jr.‘l. Ton-Strike.
965 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Gold-Dust.
911 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’l, Duth. _
9?? Deadwood Dick. Jr.'u. Death-Doom.
986 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’il, Dent Card.
999 Deadwood Dick. Jr.. at Gold Dust.
998 Deadwood Dick. Jr.'s. Dig Play.
1005 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Branded.

l0
9

cases
ms:
4-:

Iss-

 

 

BY CAPT. J. F. C. ADAMS.

.4 Dragon Sol: or, Nick Whiifles’s Boy Spy.

4.6 Gla'u- Eye, the Great Shot of the West.

54 Wed llazel. the Boy Trapper.

56 Nick Whilles’a Pet; or,in The Valle of Death.

60 The White Indian; or, The Saint of t e Yeiiowstoae.

70 Did 2! ’I Cabin: or, The Greenhorn in the Woods.
.81 Lights! Isl Jo. the Terror oi the Prairie.

85 Buck Bnekrant or, Bess, the Female ’i‘rs per. ‘
947 Old Griazly and His Peta: or. The Wll Hunts...
.51 Light-house Lise; or, Osceola, the Firehrand.

.5? The Loot Hunter" 07, The Underground Camp.
.88 The Seal) King; or, The Human Thunderbolt.

 

BUFFALO BILL NOVELS.

 

BY COL. PRENTISS monaaau.

100’? Buffalo Bill's Mire-Minis.

1000 Buii’ulo lilli'is Decoy Doyis.

995 Buffalo Bill's Drop: or, Driui-Shot NI‘J , the Kansas Kid.
9904 Bulfqu lilll‘rs Lani-o Throwcru.

981 liuii’uio lilil’vs Fightin Five.

975 Buifislo lilll‘u Riiich' ota.

96“ Diiii'nio Bill's Rush Ride: or, Sure-Shem“!!! Willi-F1!"-
964 Buffalo lull‘u Decoy; or, The Arizona Crack ShoL
958 Buffalo Bill’s Much n-Uhsuic.

948 liuii'islo Iiill‘ss Snap-5 not i or. Wild Kid’s Tcxnn Tally
942 Buii'ulo Bill’s 'l‘ou ii Tussle.

936 Iiufl’ulo Bili’u Boy . iii-cot; 0?. Joe Jarvis' Hold-up.
929 Ruii'islo liill'n (Truck-shot l’urd.

6.30 linifnlo Bill‘s Boy Port]: or. Butterfly 15m.“

216 Iii-ton Hill. the Prince ot the Reins.

222 Bison Bill’s Clue: or. Grit, the Bisvo Sport.

BY BUFFALO BILL.

55 Dudly-Eye. the Unknown Scrut. or, The Banded Brotherhood ‘
6“ Border Robin lloodx or, The Prairin Rover.
158 Fancy Frank of (‘oioradoi or, The Trapper's Trust.

BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR, u. S. A.

1‘.” Buifulo liill’y. the Boy liullwhiicliei.
194 liuflaio lllll si Bet: “I. The Gambler Guide.

BY (70L. PREN'I‘ISS INGRAHAVM.

982 New York Niit’u Drop: or, Ex-Frrh‘i Sykes’ Bold Game

926 New York Nut and t ic 'l ruitor Ferret.

920 New York Nut 'l‘rnppcii.

914 New York Nat’s 'l’lircc of a Kind.

908 New \ ork Nat’i- Doulrlc.

909 New York Nui‘s in Colorado.

896 New York Nat in Gold Nugget Camp.

889 New York Nist’s Deadly Dcul.

8N3 New \ ork Nnt’s Crook-Chime.

877 New York Nut’s Trunip Card.

87l New York Nut and thc (ii'uvc Ghouls.

86") New York Nnt’s Muskcd Mun-cot.

3.19 New York Not. the Gushlli Drievtiw.

853 Dick Doom’s Kidiiuppcr Knock-Out.

N47 Dick Dooiu's Tcn Flrikc.

842 Dick Doom’u Flth "and.

772 Dick Doom‘s Dcsiili-Grip; or.Thv Detective by Destiny.

77? Dick Doons’n Dentin '; or,'l’iie River Binckieg’s Terror.

7’44 Dick Doom; or. 'l he s airy. and Sharks oi New York.

733i Dick Doom in Boston: 0". A Mil" 0‘ Many Milli“-

703 Dick Doom in (‘liicu 0.

“NH Dick Doom III the Vi ild “'cst. ‘

808 Dick Doom's ('lcnn chcp: or, live Links in a Clue.

808 Dick Doom’s licisth (‘liic.

818 Dick Doom’s Diamond Dcul.

819 Dick Doom’s 'Irl Mascot.

9429 Dick Doom's Shadow Hunt.

885 Dick Dooisi's liilz linul. ,

749 Dnahlng Charlie: or 'i'hcKrntuciry'i‘enderfoot’s FirstTMli.

756 Dnnhlnz (‘liurlic's Dcsiinyz or, The Renegade’s Captive.

760 Dunllllig (‘hnrile’s l’nwncc l’nrd.

766 Duahigig (‘hnrlic, the Rescuer.

497 Duck aylor. King oi thr Cowboys.

76? Buck Taylor, the ('Oiiiulit‘hc’s (‘s .tivs.

748 Duck Tn ‘lor's lioysi i-r,'i‘he ii.- iihiers otths Rio Grands.

560 Pawnee Ill, the Prairie Shadow”.

713 Pawnee Bill: or, Curl. the Mad Cowboy.

719 l’uwnec Bill’a I’lcdgci or.'l'iie Cowhoy'sDoom.

725 Pawnee Bill: or, Dnrlnirmrk.

692 Redi’crn’n (‘uriouu (‘nrcx 0i, The Rival Sharps.

691 liedi’ern at De vii’s hands; or, The Sharp from Texas.

709 llcdi’crn’s High "and; or, Blue Jacket.

707 Redfern's Last 'i‘ruil: vr.'i'h~: Red SombreroRangoss.
And Fiity (Dthcrs.

BY GEORGE O. JENKB.

485 Git Thar Dwncy the Unknown.

492 Git Thar Dwncy’s l’ledile.

518 The Demon Doctor; or, Dsadhohi. the Kid Detective
581 Double-Curve Dan, the l’itcher Detective.

598 Filltc, the Singer Detective: or Owriey in a New Role.

cos The Pitcher Detective’l lion; or, Dan’s Double Play.
616 The (Dccan Dctcctlvci or.Ths LastCruise oiths Black Bear.
681 The Pitcher Detective's Tou heat Tussle. .
“(86 Larry the Thoroughbred: or, eaten on Every Side.
779 Iron “and. tthhiirsmd Detective

854 Uncle Sam's Detective in Chicago.

. BY HAROLD PAYNE.

848 Dan, the llivcr Sport: or. Foiling the Frisco Sharp.
392 Bowery Ben in Chinatown.

911 liowerv Bob the East-side Detective,

one The Circus 'netective.

984 Senior Sam. Detective, ofllook and Ladder 6.

BY ’1‘. J. FLANAGAN.

3(2)!) glidshivmllléDm-fiths l’itro‘te Catcher.
r u oun ow a a n.
9153’ Th; Two glidshipnysongpor, The Corsair-Chan’s n".

Cruise.
949 The Three Lieutenant-
959 Thohll'iauciit  fri‘Tlle Four Commanders.
966 Fig i. n: ac. ' u r c . O '
97$ Fighting Jack’s Middiesi or. Dandy Didi’l Dash.
999 Jack Lang, the Privateer Reva.

NEW ISSUES.
1016 The Boy Dozier in Cuba; 0?. The Cowboy Clan On
Deck. Bi' Col. P. ingrnham.

1017 Dc cctive M Il‘t’.‘ Hun-llunt': or, Downing the Diel—
perute Dozen. By Ned St. Meyer.

1013 Deadwood liter. , J .’s, Big Four. By E. 1.. Wheeler
1019 Burd llnyard’s Close Call. By Capt. Hawthorne.
1020 Burn y Iilnkc, the Boy Priiateer. By i-I. Johnstone.

JUST ISSUED.

1010 Kit Randy’s Big Six; or,The Rustler: of Jackson Basin.
By Oil Coomss.

’ :d D‘s-k. Jr.’s Dutch Paul; or Rooting

leilgdt‘tifid’lmcais oi‘ Skeleton Grime. By E. L. Wheelel‘.

1012 Thu Grip le’s Dead-flora Clinch) or, Trapping the
Old Fraud. llv Charles Morris.

A
in

- iois Bull'an Bill’s '1'. no Team. 3, Col. 9. lngrahain.

1014 Mlddv Nod. tire Runaway; or, Hairhreadth Escapes Afloat
and Ashore. By T. J. Flanagan.

IOIBBThe lteportcr-Deteotive’s Biz Pull. By Wm. P.
rown.

A New Issue Every Tuesday.
The llaIfJDi-o Library is for san by all “th
” W007]. 0! sent by anti on mint oi sir rents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
92 William Street, New York,