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. . Two Weeks. 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y., October22d, 1379,

TfiHENE— 
THE Pomcg SPY. *

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN.

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Joe Phenix.

 

 

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Joe Phenix, ..
THE POLICE SPY.

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,

ma or “GENTLEMAN oscaon," “m PHANTOI
awn," “'an mass or msco," m., m.

 

CHAPTER I.
nun AT L'AST.

“ Tell me the truth, gentle sir; I can bear it, no
matter how fearful the tale l”—0Ln PLAY.

“ Dam: or A Cursors Gamma!

“In Sing Slag rison on April 10th, a noted char-
acter depart his life, one Gilbert Barlee, serving
out a life-sentence for manslaughter. For a little
over eighteen ears Barlee had been an inmate of
the prison, an during that period he had succeeded
in escaping no less than twenty times, but invariabl
had been recaptured within a few hours afterward:
Some of his escapes bordered on the miraculous,
and it was really wonderful how, with such slender
means, the man contrived to set at can ht the
prison locks and the prison walls as we] as the
Watchful guard of the keepers. o the da ofhis
death Bar ee asserted his innocence of the 0 'me of
which he had been convicted, and declared that he
had been the victim of as terrible a conspiracy as
the mind of man everi ned. The convict was
a monomaniac on this sub set, as the evidence on
which he had been conv w
that he was the guilty  t within the
memoryeof the oldest keeper Sing Sing has there
been a nant within the ‘ cold gray walls‘ who has
been so troublesome, but the man of iron nerve and
astonishing strength and wonderful mechanical skill
rests quiet at last, called into the resence of that
Great Judge who will listen patien ly to the plaint
that this world turned a deaf ear upon.”

In nearly everby afternoon Journal published in New
York on April 1 th this brie notice a peered. The
death of such a man was deemed wo by of especial
mention.

Before nine 0' the night that evening a hundred
thousand le had perused the item, most of them

ly gi ng t a second thought for, what was the
death of the r outcast, ned within Bing

‘s stern w to the wori at larger but, of the
v multitude, there were a few who read the
account a second time and commented upon it, and
théee parties gave it particular attention.

as .

A man in the rims of life, sumptuously attired in
broadcloth and ne linen, wearing upon his rson
diamonds enough to pay a king's ransom. sea (1 in
a luxurious easy-chair in a Madison avenue parlor,
ha just arisen from a dinner fit to tempt the
a pa to of one of the old Roman emperors—a. man
a ease with himself and all the world.

Twice he read the notice—the second time aloud
and then brought his hiplump, while, bejeweled han
down smartly upon s knee.

“ Dead at last " he cried, and his tone was one of
fly. “ By Jove! I thought that fellow would never

6! His illness must have a very sudden one,
hr when I heard from there only a few w ago
the report said that his mind was still aff but
that in all other respects he was strong as a b .

“ Dead at last!" he repeated, after quite a long

use, and this time he rubbed his soft palms
ether, gleefully; “ well—we that is better luck
than I he for—or ex . He’s gone, and
that‘s a w htoff my min i For ten years now I’ve
been ‘ ing to see him rise like aghast before
me and demand a reckoning, but now he‘s in his
grave and there he’ll rest. Rest i” and this keen-eyed,
cool-faced, resolute-looking man re ated the word,
tioningly. “Yeshof course! at a fool I am
a???" way to these visionary fancies. The dead do
fit, no matter how much they may have been
wron ed in the flesh. Gil Barlee will never rise from
his as es, unless he turns into a phenlx, and that’s a
fabulous bird." 1

Right pleasant was the mellow laugh that came
from be ween the firm-set, resolute hps, as he sunk
back luxuriousi in the cushioned chair and looked
around him with an air of satisfaction, a great care
apparently lifted from his mind.

as SECOND:

High up in a little hall bedroom, on the fifth floor
of a dingy tenement-house on Avenue A, ust below
Fourteenth street, sat a young girl busl y engaged
in constructing artificial flowers, and, asshe worked
she glanced once in awhile at a newspaper spread
out on the table before her, the penny sheet, the
cheap luxur of the poor.

And the rief paragraph relative to the death of
the r wretch, shut up in Sing Sin ’s stone walls
for tfigoperiod of his natural life, met er eyes.

The petals of the “red, red rose" dropped from
her trembling hands. In breathless haste she de-
voured with her eyes the brief account.

“Dead—dead at last!" she murmured, in broken
accents. “ Oh! why did he not live to see me ac-
comdpllsh m5] task-the task to which I have vowed
to evote my life? I would have torn away the
Vail of shame which so ion has enshrouded him—I
would have roved to all file world that he was as
in of t 0 crime for which he was convicted as
the child unborn; but now that he is dead I will not

ed as Nperfectly clear
0

falter in my task. His innocence shall be made;

manifest to all, and the hidden foe who in the dark
has woven such a web around him shall be

into the ' t and his crimes exposed, for the man
who sent it Barlee to the care of the cruel stone
walls b surel the villain who committed the crime
for which the ocent has suifered."

A noble resolve for one so young—a tender lily of
a rl, ust budding into womanhood.

as an:

Two b0 s—ragged little fellows—crying their
newspaper); in front of the Astor House.

One a lad of about ten ears of age, a chunky-
built little rascal, with a slurp, brlgh face and a
hen, shrewd air: the other, younger by u ear or
be much more slender in figure and more ellcate-

 

 

ly framed; léis 1face little and pinched, quite a con-

“a to the rs

ippy the older boy was called, and he was a
“chippy " sort of chap, always full of life and spirit
and abundantly able to take care of himself, young
as he was.

The Ittle one was commonly called “Dunno ” by
all the lads of his acquaintance, probably from the
peculiar habit he had of getting “ scart ” upon the
slightest provocation and responding “Dunno” to
eVery uestion.

The 3 rest Arabs of New York are greatly given
to nicknames, and the appellations they bestow up-
on eachfiofger generally stick, being, as a rule, very
ap rop a .

hippyl and Dunno the two bo 3 had been named

21y the c ief joker of the street rigade on the occa-

on of their first appearance, and the boys had qui-

etly accepted the names and were known by no
0 er.

Many a hard battle Chippy had had, too, on. ac-
count of his weaker brother, and being a muscular
little fellow, full of bull-dog courage, ready at any
time to fly at a boy twice his size, it was not long be-
fore he inspired the City Hall Park “ rats," as the
newsboys and bootblacks proud] term themselves,
with a proper degree of ct or his abilities.

With the frank and free 0 ' dren of Nature there
is nothing like hard knocks to inspire reslpect.

Both the boys had pretty nearly so d out their
stock of papers.

Chippy had only two left; Dunno five.

As the elder bo always rtinent remarked:

" Dunno you out he er half loud ’nuif ; blow
yer bugle louder’n thunder, Gabriel! that’s the way
to git u and git!"

A su den rush of customers reduced the seven
papers to three.

‘ Let’s git our su per now," Chip y remarked;
“ we can easily run see three of! at e ferry.“

And, as they had prospered that afternoon, they
treated themse ves to "coflee and cakes," and, as
they discussed t e luxuriant viands, Chippy read the
death of the convict.

“That's a heap of money out of our pocket, ole
man," he said to Dunno, gravely.

Three connecti lines from the grave of Gilbert
Barlee to three liv ng hearts, and ter influence
was Barlee, dead, to exercise than 0 had ever done
while living.

 

CHAPTER II.
A “moss WARNING.

Tan unction of Avenue A and Fourteenth street
ne shows a busy, bustlingdshlght between the
ours 0 five and six, as the wor Elpeopleh to
their homes in the great east-side ves, after eir
da '5 toll is done.
early all working people, or their relatives, is
this grand array of promenaders, who hasten along
eager to reach their homes, durin the late hours 0
the afternoon; few persons of e eguit leisure are
there in the throng, and therefore the fact that on a
certain afternoon, an el t private carria e,
drawn by a air of m flcent horses, stan n
close in to t e curbstone right at the corner 0
gourteenth street, attracted a great deal of atten-
on.

Such elegant turnouts were not common sights on
the avenue; hence it was no wonder that the hard-
handed sons and daughters of toil cast an admiring,
azid manly of them an envious, glance, at the display
0 w t

The coachman was a negro, as black as the ace of
spades, and as fat as a prize 0 displa , too, a
pair of “ mutton - chop " side - whiskers hat an Ln-

llsh earl might have envied; the horses, a of

etblacks, eas worth a thousand dollars' t e car-
riage, Brewster s best, and the harness an imported
French one with gold moun which cost a sum
suflicient to pay a poor man's eep for a year.

The passers-b . after feasting their eyes 11 n this

lavish dis la 0 wealth generally ped nto the
carriage £1 a natural c'uriosity to l:ng the own-
or

But one person-occupied the vehicle—a woman,
stately, beautiful and superbly dressed, and from
the door of the carrigge she ke t a close watch
upon the passerggy, e dently in erent to the at-

Plainly she waited for some one.

The coachman, too was on the alert and carefully
scanned the gassing throng.

Suddenly t ere was a twinkle in his big eyes as
he caught sight of a tall, slender female form coming
slowly along up the street. She was dressed plainly,
evidently a member of the world class; no orna-
ments-no artificial aids to enhance or a? rance,
and yet with that wondrous charm abou er which
the poet had in his mind‘s eye when he wrote of
beauty unadorned. Full of c power were the
glances of her violet and re was a singular
sweetness in the ve smile which often
pla ed about her rich, red ps.

0 coach the moment he caught sight of the
girl, rapEled on t e front window of the carriage to
attract a mistress’s attention but the warni was
useless, for the gulck e es of the lady wit u the
vehicle had caug t sigh of the girl almost assoon

as the DEV).

“Oh, e is beautiful!" the woman cried. "bl"?
she shall not triumph over me w she as fair as an
angel fresh from heaven 1" .- ‘

The girl came on, unconscious of the interest which
she was exciting, and as she was close to the edwge of
the curb it was plain that she would pass thin
arm-length of the carriage.

With her eyes bent upon the ground, evidently
deep in thougthl it was clear that the girl would
pass bythe age without noticing i but when
she came within a yard of the-window, t e woman
within dro pod the sash and called to her.

“ Miss mmerton can I speak a word with you,
plTh ,n then?” “glam in asto ish t t bei

e , fed 1: men a ng
thus agrrgssedp a perfect stranger, and looked in
amazement at t e superb woman and her elegant
Cum 3
“ Come lgown” commanded the lady imperiously,
“so that I can converse with on without being
overheard by these gaping idiots. '

By this gentle expression the st 1- referred to
the pauing throng who were impro the oppox~

‘ tention she excl

 

tunit to feast their eyes upon the magnificent dfl:
mon s that ornamented her ears and throat.

Obedient to the request the girl came close to H.
window.

“ You are Adalia Cummerton 1’"

“Yes. that is my name."

“ I am a total stran r to on, and yet I am
to do you a great serv ce," e woman continued.

The 'ri looked the amazement she felt, but made
no rgp y.

“ on are in great danger and I have come to warn
you so that you can esca the peril."

“ am very much ob ged to on indeed," the
girl answered, and as she spoke s e fixed her clean
e es searchineg upon the face of the other, as
t ough she would read her very tfiughts. “ I was
not aware that any danger threatened me."

“ The blow that falls without warning falls not the
less severely i" the lady said, quickly. “ You are-
young and pretty; a pretty face is sometimes a
curse to a girl in your station of life.”

A faint flush cre t up into the cheeks of the girl:
she did not like eit er the words or the manner of
the s ker; there was offense in both.

” on are walkin heedlessly on in a path which
will ieadfvou to a idden itfall, and once at the
bottom 0 the gulf, into which you must surely fall
unless you take warning from me, nothing waits for
you bu misery and black des air."

“ You are talking in rid les," Adalia replied,
speaking ve quietly and yet evidently offended.
‘ I do not un erstand you at all. The danger which
you speak of must indeed be a hidden one, for l

ave never sus cted it."

“None so b nd as those who will not see!" cried
the lady, with a bitter laugh. “You have spoken
exactly as I expected you would sgeak. Your eyes
are dazzled; you are prett —an that prettinem
will be your ruin, for you t ink that this man can-
not withstand your beauty, and will gladly raise you
to_ his station, forgetting your poverty and obscure

on in."

file flush in the cheeks of the girl deepened, and
shtehdrlevv her slight figure up lndignantly to its full-
es g 1 .

“I am utterly in the dark astoyour meaning!"
she exclaimed, “ and your words are extremely
oflensive. You mag be a friend and acting solely
for my good, but I oubt it. 1 know of no such per-
son as the man to whom you have just referred.

“ Girl, girl, why will you attempt to deceive me?”
the lady cried, quickly. “I know everything, and I
wgvyou solemnly that this man means you no

“ What man 7‘

“ Oh you know well enough."

“Indeed I do not; his name?”

" His name!" and the lady laughed, bitterb.
“ How can I tell which one he has given you when
he has a dozen and no one of them his true one?"

The girl looked her earnestly in the.face; she
began to doubt the sanity of the aker.

‘ Come, come; we will not p ly at cross- ur-
poses," th'a lad continued,~never eeding the cok
of the other. “There is a man who boasts of his
wealth and power paying court to you; never mind
by what name he calls himself. Hephas turned ous)
head with the icture of the lux and the li e 0'
ease which his and can ve you; e is not old nor
yet young; but wonderf y fascinating in his man-
ner; but e is a cheat in everythin . Dazzled by
the power which he knows so well ow to use you
Will yield to him all our young life: there will be a
few weeks of luxur ous Joy and then like magic
all Will melt away and you w wake to find yourself
betra ed and abandoned."

Wi torrent-like rapidity the words had flowed
from the lips of the woman, and the girlhad listen-
ed in utter amazement. 1.;

“ I know of no such man as you describel" she ex-
claimed in mp3; “ you have been deceived."

The woman ook her head impatiently.

" It isgyou who are deceived; but I have warned
you; heed my words well or soon you will walr- to
misc 3?“ desgfiimi, fli gi h

n i en su eny n n up t ewindow sh
signaled to the coachman an drove off, leaving thg
girl a pre to utter amazement.

Over e aristocratic Fifth avenue quarter the
carriage rolled, and halted at last in front of a
su rb brown-stone front mansion.

e dusk of the evening had come, and the lady
advancing to the ate 3 di not notice that a tall and
stalwart re was caning upon one of the stone
gusts wh ch guarded the entrance, until she almost

uched him, he carriage, in the meantime, havin
departed. A slight scream .came from the ladyE
lips as she recognized the man.

2‘ iAirlive !11 Is it ssible léghficiged.

‘ esa've,’ erepea ;te ve
up the end, or, a better illustrationgxpaerhalga:v Ema:
second phenix I have arisen from my “hem A
morbid impulse drew me here to look once again
upon the house within whose walls long years ago
Ispent so manyehappgi hours. I did not expect t6
see you for I lievc that the grave long since
had buried your shame and sin. Like an unquiet
ghost 1 have risen from my dark tomb and I stalk
abroad for vengeance upon the man who wronged
me.’ ‘

“ He is dead 1" the woman almost shrieked,

“ oh, no, he is not' he lives but under some oth-
name; but I'll hunt him out from behind his screen
of lites 3,1813 snake hirr'iudown even a in the old dead

, e me me; you are neat
BIS pity and despise!“ ' a ' h my “use!

And then the man walked proudly away.

CHAPTER III. ‘
'rns romcn arr.

Cams? street at twelve o’ the ni h a
spot, only a few blocks from New 
and about asbad alocalityas can befoundin moi
bigJNew York. '

nder the lam post at the corner stood two men
in busy converse. ion.

The night was quiet, the drinking-shops were about
closing, and even the sailor dance-houses along the
street were dismissing their patrons, and the 1011,
Jack Tars arm-in-arm with red- 'longilima
men, nearly all of them the worse for liquor, w: '
Neils-F along the walk.

H -way up the block a little transparency It.

 

 

 

 

 

:- M‘rmm r‘

 

 

,l
i

i
l
t
.
vi

 

1......” _,.c

. --‘_.<-.:-a.«1w— .

n single lamp, projected over a doorway, and upon

it was written
THE TRAVELERS REST.
renames 10 CENTS.

To the sign of the lodging-house one of the men at
the corner called the attention of the other.

“That’s the place,” he said. The speaker was a.
well-built man, with a hearty, determinedhlooking
face, dressed quite plainly, but bearing a certain
air of authority about him like one used to com-
mand; little wonder that this should be, for the in-
dividual in uestion was no other than the working
lead of the olice Department of New York, Super-
intendent Walling.

“ The Traveler‘s Rest,” observed his companion,
leading the inscription upon the transparency.

A great contrast to the plainly -attired police cap-
tain was the speaker.

In erson he was: man of muscular build, broad-
sho dered, and massive-faced, smoothly shaven,
and with a sad, careworn look u n his features
when in repose, but he had one of t osc mobile faces

 

so necessary to the successful stage-artist, capable '

of assuming a dozen different e ressions almost in
a moment. He was attired in he light of fashion and
looked more like a man who dressed himself to

Pay a ceremonicus visit than like one about to plunge
nto the dangerous mazes of Cherry street.

“ ‘The Traveler‘s Rest,’ ” quoth the superintend-
ent. “ Aha! I pity the traveler with a five-dollar
note on his person who should attempt to rest there
for a sin ie night. I’m afraid that he would never
live to to about it.” ”

“ I have heard of the
“U the river," sai the police superintendent,

signi cantly.
I Yes. ’9

“ And what did they say of it i" ‘

“ One of the worst ens in all New York."

“ That’s truth—eve word, and, old fellow, I think
that you would incur ss danger in going into a den
of hungr lions thamin attempting to discover the
secrets 0 that shebang."

“ have made a compact and must abide by it,"
the other returnei slowly.

"Yes, so I have con informed, but when I was in-
structed to give you all the aid and informaticn in
":7 power, you were the last man that I expected to
30 l

-e.
“ You thought me buried for life, eh?"
“ Yes; I never expected to see you again in the

ties .

“Tch offered me a chance for freedom and I ac-
cc to .

‘ You'll meet your deathl" Walling exclaimed, in
warning. “When these fellows discover what on
are after, they’ll kill you with as little mercy as t ey
would give to a rat."

“ I can but die. I accepted all the risks when I
took up with the offer."

“ Bu you don’t believe that this idea that the Gov-
ernor has got into his head really has any founda-
tion in fact, do you?"

“ That there is an‘yltillfl

“I firmly believe t t ere is; I have heard quite
enough up the river to convince me that it is no vis-
ionary dream, and 114 live I will prove to you and all
thP world that I am right."

‘ Well, I have been connected with the police force
hereka good many years and I never got upon its

me ."

" because a master mind is at the head- the com~
mon fellows are but tools used by a skillful hand;
they cannot betray their master, for they have noth-
gg definite to go upon. Tlhéy know if the do cer-

n things which are orde , they are we i paid if
successful if they fail and are captured, a pow-
erful arm lnterposes to protect them. Count upon
your fin era the names of the men upon the ‘ cross ’
who Wit n the last ten ears have commithes
and yet have succcede in some mysterio , in
esca ing all punishment.”

“ unt upon my flng
rather think that my fingers would all be used up be-
fore I had got half-way thro h.”

“ Very true: do not doubt t en in the existence of
this one-headed but many-armed monster whom it
is my mission to destroy. If I succeed, then I will
enter upon my own task of rivate vengeance,” and
the eyes of the speaker ed with unnatural fire
as he spoke.

“ Old fella
exclaime I, touched by the manner of the other more
than by his words.

“ 0h, have I not? and will not my foe suffer when
it comes his turn?"

“ If you escape this venture?" Walling added, sig-
nificantly.
“Ishall escape—although’l may meet death face
to face a hundred times, and'even feel the wither-i
influence of his icy breath yet like the fabled b
whose name I have taken, shall rise from my ashes
like Antmus of old from the earth, invigorated and
refreshed.” _

“Well, I'll get out; if I remain longer it may at-
tract attention. Good~by, old fellow, and good luck
to you, for you are going right down into the jaws
of death!"

“They may threaten, but they shall not ingulf
me ’

The superintendent with a hearty pressure of the
hand hurried away, while the stran er walked slow-
ly up the street towhfithe ng- once.

But the brief convusation tween the two had
not escaped notice.

Across the street, some ten or twelve houses from
the corner, two men were seated upon the stone step
of a recessed doorway- they were in the shade and
so com letely hidden from observation that from
across t 6 street the keenest eye could not have de-
tected them. '

These two men were , eve
one tall and thin, but muscular, an when he spoke,
the “brogue " told plainly that the land of St. Pat-
rick claimed him for a son—a most unworthy one,
’tls true. Well known was he tothe police under the
title of Red Dan. His ri ht name was Daniel Mac-
Ghee, but from his red lair and whiskers, he was
far better known by his nickname.

His com union was a short, thickset fellow, with
I neck on bull—a foreigner,

London
mum who had left his country for his country‘li

 

. his hab t of occasionally donning a

ersi" cried the chief; “I ;
§ throng
i taining the amount of plunder-1:513: could be got at.

, bleolooking foreigner.

w, you have suffered deeply," the chief .
v as his acquaintances among the criminalclass; a
‘ a

. sh possessed
t of afiend; carried a long,
, folds of her dress, and was re
‘ to use it to carve a fellow-mortal as to cut readand

‘ the Traveler‘s Rest, she sat stolid asastatu? the

inch of them; I

. ,_,......, ‘m.., ._. ...-

{09 Phenix

 

3

 

 

00d. Taylor Bud he was called; “Buddy” his

I! companions termed him. ,.

Red Dan and Budgiy were constant companion’
they always “work ” in concert, and their 
line was bank-robbing.

fiom their post of observation the pair had
watched the interview between the lice-chief and
the handsomely-dressed stranger w o, with his life
in his hand, had come into the thieves’ quarters
upon a dim erous mission. . .5

“ That’s alli l" exclaimed Bud, after he and
his companion ha watched the two conversing by
the lamp~post for a few minutes.

“ Bad scran to him!” the Irishman exclaimed;
“ hat does the likes of him want here?"

‘Some of the boys ‘ wanted,’ maybe," remarked

the other, significantly.

“ The murtherin’ blaggardi I’d like to be afther
'vin’ him a nate crack wid. a shtick, foreninst the
orefront of his nose! Is it aither wan of us that’s

he‘s afther, do you think?”

“ I ess that we ain’t wanted for anything just
now‘ ut who’s the other one?" ‘

“ ad ‘cess to me if I know i”

“ A co ( lieeman) in plain clothes?"

“ May t is."

“ We’ll keep our eyes upon him."

“ Faixi we 11 do that same!"

And so the two watched until the police superin-
tendent hurried away and the other walked up the
street and entered the thieves’ den.

“Do you mind that?” Red Dan cried, as the tall
figure of the stranger
under the transparency.

f‘If he’s after one of the boys and to take
him out of there single-handed, he’s eit er crazy or
else tired of living, ’ Bud observad; “ but let’s go
over and see the fun. I ain’t had a crack at a cop
for some time." And without more words the two
hurried across the street.

CHAPTER IV.
was 'rnmvns' nus.

Tan house of the Traveler’s Rest was 9. Iain, old-
fashioned, two-storied-and-attic brick buillli , dat-
ing back probably to the time when the wort y and
solid Dutch burghers ruled in New Amsterdam,

' when Bowling Green was the center of the city, the

Bowery a count lane and Cherry street the abode
of substantial m ddle-class citizens.

By the side of the entrance two benches exten
where in the old time the solid Dutchmen were wan
to smoke their pipes when the toils of the day were
over, but in the de enerate times whereof we write,
whenever the bone es had an occupant, which was
but seldom it generall consisted of some drunken
sailor too full of the uid lightning—the concen-
tra torchiight roe unknown as Cherry street
whisky—to naviga with safety.

The stra r, o ning the door and walking boldly
in, found h msel at once in the low saloon, for en-
tryv there was none.

t was a good-sized apartment, about thirty by

: forty feet; a bar stood in one corner behind whic
of the kind in existence?" ,

was the usual cheerful display of bottles and glam
congpicuous among whic a peared a large
bea ng the terse reminder, “ o trust."

There were three or four rough tables scattered
about the room, near which were benches; no chain,
and for a ve excellent reason: the guests of the
house were in t e habit once in a while of ind
in the tallest kind of a fight, and when these ttle
affairs occurred, c were so extremer handy as
weapons that they were usually the firs re-
sorted to, much to their material damage, an so it
was that the chairs were done away with and the
heavy benches substituted.

A38 one of the tables two men were seated, busy at
car .

One was a little undersized fellow, with a round
bullet head and evil eyes. Neddy Tie, or Noddy the
Peddler as he was better known to the lice, from
dler‘s pack
and taking excursions through the country, thereby
gainin an entrance to the houses of the rural gentry
the medium of the servants and so ascer-

The other man was a

tionalities would have gueaed him to bee. ch-
man, and the ess would not have been far from
the truth. for e fellow was a native of a
Franco-German; Louis Gironde, he called hii. '
“ French Louis,” the detectives termed him, as

ngerous man; one of those expert rogues who
from the vigilaliglJnlice system of the Old World
and in this new thrive amazingly.

Behind the bar a woman was seated, badly en-
gaged in knitting; a tall, strong, coarse-looking

wo with a stony face, the projecting cheek-
bones h, the yellow skin over them resembling
parchment.

Few frequenters of the dens “along shore ” but

, were well ac uainted with the “Madame,” as she
I was generall

rmed; and few of the desperadoes
common to t e locality cared to trouble the mistress

‘ of the Traveler’s Rest, no matter how wild their

t their disposition for a row, for
e strength of a lion and the tem r
sharp knife within be
ported to as ready

blood or how
e

cheese. gt
And as the stranger entered within the walkof

click of the needles alone betraying sounds 0 life,
ust as her com ion furles, the bags of the French
volution, to sit by the side 0 the guillotine,
with their knitting in their hands, and watch the
shedding of the innocent blood of the victims of that

“reign of terror."
The stranger walked directzéi to the bar.
hat-eat was theigirprise excl his Jim
t e we men their an
m Madame even was 1%:

the stolld face 0

into a look of astonishment as she behe
butterfly stranger, arrayed as for a Fifth avenue
evening call. ‘ . _

The new-comer leaned his arms nae: the counter,
and bending over it, said, softly, to woman who
had risen to receive him: '

“ Madame, I want shelter, protection and aid.”

“ 83:?“ exclaimed the keeper of the tbbves' den.

yo ” the man continued.
“the

these showy
means of w 'ch I shall be able to escape, rom the

“It
to get me into droubie mit the police," the woman
1‘81)

—beds for the n
gentlemans like you."

disappeared in the opening

pretty hft for me for

lyasaterrierafterarat.

 

ridgloe

menthouse on avenue A a man was clim

droo mustache and inted
hamgome face w

odd and
and full resolution; plainly—carelessly, in
a well‘worn suit of dark stufl, with a
broad-brimmed felt hat tilted
close observer of city life and of city men would have
no dimcui

he was.

cpmmon to the species—-“Bohemian.
the stormy sees in the
from w

$°$W§£ lmr'meau
mml .. o nearly

 

“I have been directedto ou byagood friendof

y

“I am on the ‘cross,’
police are after me. I want to get out or
ents and get into some di uise by
I am willing to pay liberally for ai ’
know netting ’bout you, and I vill do notting

ed, who spoke with a strong German accen

1:,
despite the fact that she called herself Marie Herri-
son and claimed
Louis, she was probablaefrom one of the frantic
provinces, and as much

to be of France; but, like French

' man as French.

“ I Will pay liberal] for assistance."

“ I know notting— keeps mit me an honest house
ght ten cents, but not for great

“Don’t I tell on that I’m on the ‘cross’f" the
! stranger repea impatientl .
“ now not vat you mean. ’

“ Do you want me to give you the ' 7”
“Hey! vat on mean by de sign! the landlady

cried, raising er voice so as to attract the attention
of the two men at the table.

“ Seal” and the man made a rapid, peculiar mo-

tion with his left hand, twisting the fingers together
in an odd way, and then, turning suddenly
the two Slayers who were staring at t

he faced
t ‘I be h be to

a ease. ‘ say ya 8 ewants o
in trouble; is’ that the 8

thing?” and then them he re ted the sign.
Their faces cleared instan ; they recognized
Oalia Emaifir'agh Madam I em,’ French
H i is e, V
Louis said; “ the Eienttleman is one 0 us; there'- no
inputting in through." '

“ h, no, no danger!" the second man exclaimed.

“Yes, boys, I’ve ust come from ‘up the river '
andIreckon that he cops will make New Yo
next week or two, and I‘ve
got to eep . have carried me
Bretty well so far, but I feel pretty sure that a po-

ce spy spotted me on Broadway about half an
hour ago. I was foolish enough to walk into Cun-
ninghame’s place on Broadway. I had a fifty-
that was burning a hole right through my ct,
ami I thought that I might as well lose it, or make
it into a couple of hundred. But no sooner had I
gotintotheroomthanlsaw that I wasspotted,»
got out as soon as lpossible, but my gentle-
't have it, and e followed me declass-
I saw that he was deter-
mined te hunt me down, and as I wasn‘t anxious to
fobacktoSingSinngade-a bold strike for this
ocality. I was never here before, but some of the
boys 11 the river put me up to’ the trick and ‘
foundi easi enough. So now, Madame, if you'll
do the ht for me, I’ll ut up handsomely.
and a bottle of wine for e party, besides."

“ Aha! I see mit one eye dat you are true blue,"
the woman said. “Come mit me, my tear, and l
viii take good care mit ou. Noddy, mind de blace
till I comes mit me back; den you can carry down

The LIadame lighteda’candle and led the way down

devine"

a narrow staircase to the lower bus. The stran-
er followed closely behind her, w ile French Innis ,
rought up the rear. .

The cellar was and with some
vafiors, the woodwork dimolved an rotten.
its center the woman used.

“th here a moment t I fix de door."
Then she hurried to the wall, fumbled about it a

moment, and then—-

Thevery earth seemed to open underthefeetof '
own—down he went through e um.

larspeceatleastsixfeetindiameter,andthenfrom
theawful

cameupasullenmoon.

French upon the V181? verge of the

standing
frightful spot, started back in at!

‘A —a ice l"crledthew inbor-
r,’ D“ an... .1... hes. a...
“but heissafenowat debottom of de wellinten

feet of water; he droubie no one no more; see!“

arude scrale Louk‘s hand.
peruseditn

Thewo thrust
andbythelightofthecandlehe

augmenting was. hmrmmmhs
, n8-

Ourrm Suns."
CHAPTER V.
can consume. .
was fwrapidly upon the  shoot:
one

Dances
of the great metro

The sons and daughters of toilwere hurrying):

from their daily avocations, and all the central ave-
nues on the east side of town were filled with

Iaing were beginning to gleam in the down.
an

e lo lines of tenement-houses to wear their

usual h apearance.
Uptllii8 yp

enarrow staimofadark anddinytene-

No commonmanwas this; nohard- 'sonof

toil a hundred like him to be encountered on every
block in the crowded avenue, but a fellow so unlike
the common run of me
would have exdted imm

thatcveninscrowdhe ’

on.

.hair; a l ,

as: s...
- no

t; the face, motive

T well-formed; short-cut yello

one
uliarintheirl

h-crowned
back on is head; a'

stall inguessi

atwhat anner
he Mk to «man

the long, flowing
AsonotBohemh—not theBo faracros'
German landilzu the Bohc|

min. of the crewded memolis—t mystic land
the sons daughters of genius
.‘ :4; ,

the writer.

w1110831 olden da 31“ to “will? {arm-

n e ys e roving o ipsies were
termed Bohemians, and as they were fortune-tellers,
conjurers, dancers or players. who gained a its)?
by amusing the idle hours of the busy, honest, -

ing world, when in time the he omtho
pmmpphntedtheae w new-comers,
‘childrenof genius,who m bread hrtho

 

 

 

4

Joe Flint;

 

 

 

AAAJE' .7

aid of their wits instead of by manual labor, succeed-
ed to the name, and thus it is that Bohemia flourishes
to-day in the midst of all our large cities.

80, when we 3 ak of a man as being “a Bohemi-
an,” we mean t at he is a talented, clever fellow—a
genius whose business it is to astonish the sober
world at large, and who—ten chances to one-will
some day die a miserable death and fill a pauper’s
grave.

Reginald Percy this good-looking fellow terms him-
self and he occupies a small room on the fifth floor
of the old tenement-house.

There were some twelve families in the house, two
on each floor, and though each set of rooms only
com rised four apartments, yet two or three of the
f es man to get alon with a couple of rooms,
and so either to let furuishe apartments, or to take

boarders.

The poor huddle together like sheep in this great,
overgrown city of New York.

Just one month had Percy been an inmate of the
house, and he had briefly said upon taking sses-
sion of his quarters, a little bedroom in the rear on
the fifth floor, that his name was Reginald Percy,
and that he was a writer by profession.

The landlady, a hard-faced sour-looking woman,
known as Mrs. Charlotte urpoint, dressmaker,
who contrived to et alon with two rooms and rent-
ed the others wit boa , was not much given to

p and, althou h some of the tenants of the

ones had noticed 0 man so striki in his appear-

ance, and commented upon it, yet w 0 he was was
not generally known.

There is very little lgossip among the toiling deni-
zens of the hives of t e t ci , strange to say.

Possibly the constan struig c with the gaunt
monster cruel Want, checks t e exchange of confi.
dences, for it is a fact that a fa may live for

cars in a tenement-hens occupi b fifteen or
twenty families, and yet no know a sing e soul with-
ll} tine building besides the janitor who takes charge
0 t.
“grey unlocked the door of his apartment and en-

Striking a match he lit a small coal-oil lamp which
was 11 on the table.
1y had he performed this operation when
there was a low tap upon the door.
In some surprise, for he was never troubled with

visitors, Perc o ned the door, revealing the person
of his landlady, rs. Durpoint.

“ I want to speak a few words with you,” the lady
said, briefly.

As we have informed the reader. in person she was
stern and forbidding a woman abbve the medium
moans featured, angularly built, with a very

e a pearance.

It was quige evident that her battle with the world
hmaélbefina hard one and that she had suffered in

t.

Peflrgy withdrewa etc or two, so that the landlady
could enter, which she mmediateiy did, closing the
door carequ behind her.

“ You had tter sit down, as what I want to say
may occupy some time," Mrs. Durpoint said in her
harsh vinegar-toned voice, at the same timbiieiping
herself to a chair. ‘

Percy looked astonished, but he only nodded his
head and sat down 11 n the side of the bed; the
apartment only boasted a single chair.

“I'm a woman of the wor d," Mrs. Durpoint be
gan. “ I’ve seen “3de deal of life, andI generally
mznds my own b ness."
lPercy nodded, as much as to say that he accepted
this statement without estion.

‘ I don’t interfere w th my ne hbors much, I

don’t,” she continued, “but I'm no 001, and I guess

I can see what’s afore my eyes as well as most olks.

Mr. Percy, you’re jest a-wasting your time, and you
ht as well know it first as last.”

' Wasti mitime?" he observed, slowly, a pecu-
liar look iifids een eyes, out of the corners of which
he was intently regarding the woman.

“ Of course on on’t know what I mean—am ut-
tem and all that sort of thing!" she ex-
claim with sin indignantf snort. ‘211 so: 1;]? got to
spa: ain1 or or one, on eve n
hm u the ash. When ou came here and
w totaksthisroom and ardwithmeyou
said your name was Percy, and that on wrote for
the ne apers, and I never cont cted ou al-
thoughI new jest as well who you were— or I've
seen you afore—as if you were my own brother."

The man did not manifest any astonishment at this
declaration; there was no cm perceptible in his
features except that a few es appeared on his
forehead.

“You said your name was Percy and you paid in
advance; that was all right; that satisfied me; I
knew that you war up to something, but it war none
of business I thought° but new that I find out
wha your ame is, I see that I might as well take a
bané too, or without me you’ll never be able to do

1| ~‘

‘ Yes ‘said the man, in the most non-committal
wflemrlgg‘can bei” exclaimed the woman, de-
cidedly. “You want this girl, Adalia Cummerton,
3111: you dgn‘tfsttland any more chance of getting her

in. on 00 e moon."

“Ixiydeedl” and Percy‘s haughty lip angled just a

“ Why a man like you should want to waste your
time on a shallow-faced chit or take such trouble
about agiri not much better than a street beggar, is
awonder; but you know your own business, of
course, and that matter is nothing to me; but'you
won‘t succeed' there's another man in the way.

geArc‘yu ve oseattention now.
block; thsgirl got acquainted with him when she
nsedto go after my meat as she does sometimes
now. I met them out we ng last Bunda night.
Until he‘s out of the way, you won‘t get he girl
and even if you succeed in that matter, i
doubt if you will ever get her. t if on say the
word-{ii agree to pay me my p , ’11 giveher

“ eor‘é'y laughed—a light hollow laugh with very lit-

erriment in it.
no“le you not romising me more than you can

perform?" he .
“ Of course I don‘t mean b fair means," she an-
swered, tartly. “Openly and honestly she'll never

 

_- .44.. mm“... . A4. .. .m.

or boy—keeps in the market on the next '

 

beyours. I had a talk with her to—dag, and I jest
sounded her about the matter. I to] her that I
guessed that you and she would make a match, but
she turned as white as death and shuddered at the
very thought. Mind ou, the bare idea frightened
the gr]. Oh, nol’ e cried ‘I shall never marry
any d —there is a ave between me and the love
of any onest manl' and she meant it, too' but I

_ess the butcher boy would be able to make her

nk differenth. But there’s some mystery about
her past life; 3 e‘s as dumb as an oyster about it.
You jest think over what I‘ve said; a few hundred
dollars is nothing to you," and the woman rose to
go. “I’ll fix the job for you, for there’s somethi
about the girl that makes me hate her, although
can’t tell what it is."

And then Mrs. Durpoint departed, leaving the
man to meditate on the offer.

\

 

CHAPTER VI.
BENEATl-I 'rns: mars.

NEVER was there a man more thoroughly taken by
surprise than the handsomely - dressed stran or
when the concealed trap opened beneath his eet
and he was precipitated into the awful below.

And the moment he passed through he trap, the
parted sides again sprun back into their places. It
was a cunningly-devi piece of machinery, and
when the surface of the tra was covered With a few
inches of earth as it had 11 on the entrance
of the stranger into the cellar no tinct of mortal
man could have detected the da rous contrivance.

Twelve feet at least he fell, bu the shock of the
fall was broken by the soft nature of the ground be-
neath, and, although well shaken up by the fail, the
man received no material damage.

Sudden as had been the descent yet, almost in-
zglusnltarily, the victim had braced himself to meet

e ock.

Thoughts come quickly in such moments of peril
and durin the time of the descent the man ha
as to the nature of the fate that awaited

h m.

“An old well undoubtedly,” his thoughts ran,
“and with water enough to drown me like a help-
less rat' no chance of escape, no hope of rescue,
even if can succeed in clinging to the stones of the
sides and so for a time evade a watery death. The
police will come- they will search the old rookery
when Iam missed, but the odds are a hundred to
one that they will not discover the trap in the cellar;
and if the do, the chances are that long before
that time, shall be past all mortal hel , for even if
I can succeed in to the stones of the wall,
stre hmustfail a last,and itwill behours, per-
halxlsi ys, before I may expect helpfi"

these “0W wi lightning-like
rapidity thro h the n of the entrapped man;
but the water as was proven to be but a guess the
moment tom: flrma was reached.

The bottom consisted of soft, sticky mud. The
violence of the shock brought the man to his knees,
and bei severely shaken u by the concussion he
romaine for a few momen motionless, and t en
to his ears came the sounds of the assassins above,
replaci the earth over the trap, thus again con-
cealing t e frightful contrivance.

Man of iron nerve as was the police spy, he shiv-
ered when to his ears came the sounds o the clods
of earth falling upon the surface of the trap.

80 might a man buried alive and struggl within
the close confines of his narrow coffin sud enly re-
vived to consciousness, hear the shovelfuls of earth
f with dull thud upon his wooden risen-house.

To buried alive! A fearful tho t—more ter-
rible perha s to this man, alive well, full sses-
sion of all is facul'i every 'mb unfette , than
to the helpless tenanto the undertaker’s'coflin. He,
so well prepared to st 10 for life, muscular, cun-
ning in all the tricks 0 the wrestler‘s and boxer’s
art, a match for a half-score of ordinary men, to
perish in this untimely wa , conquered byla foe who
shrewdl denied him be c anceto exertt estrength
and s be ssemed to such a wondrous de .

The soun above soon c , the silence of the
tomb ensued, and the lice sp realized that his
gingripehant foes had a don him whismisera-

e a .

 chance had hetoesca 2
He rose to feet. pe
He did not despair, this man of iron nerve, for

hard fortune and he had shaken hands dailyfor
many a long year.

Amly provided was he for all emergencies; fully
arm , a small self-cocking revolver in each side-
pocket, a third thrust into the inside pocket of his
vest, and a six-inch bowie-knife, keen as a razor,
snug in a leathern sheath at his side, handy to his
righ hand, an o n attack would have been boldly
met; and, in ad tion to hisweapon he carried in
his coat-pocketasmaii but powprfui ull's-eye lan-

tern.

Igniting a match, he lit the lantern and proceeded
to e a survey of the prison-house into which he
had been so unceremoniously introduced.

As he had surmised, it was an old we about five
feet in diameter, the walls com of rou h
stones, but they were carefu lai and the ant
surface was so smooth that t eprlsonerflceived
at a glance that it would be a hopeless to at«
tempt to scale them, even if there was any chance
of forcing open the heavyI trapdoor above.

The disappearance of t e water from the well was
easily accounted for. Right opposite to each other
were two openings in the walls, each one about four
feet high by three feet broad.

The police spy at once eased the riddle.

Some subterranean ream has forced in the one
wall of the well and then forced out the other in its
page to the river," he muttered. “ Fate does not
always aid these vile wretches,” he continued. " It
is evident that they do not know of the existence of
this underground which has out directly
through the well. y eved, when the sprung
the and buried me into this it. that t cg con-
damn me to a lingering but ce n death; ut as
the water has evidently found its we to the river,
there is no reason why I should no be able to do
likewise. They have played the first trump, but one
trick is not the game.

There was menace in the tone of the speaker and
if the cunning, but desperate, outlaws ii the dingy
saloon above had overheard the words, perhaps their

 

.:

 

Lests in regard to the easymanner inwhich they
ad disposed of a dangerous intruder, would not
have appeared so funny.

“Now which w_a shall I turn?” murmured the

y, fias ing the lignt of the lantern alternately at
t 6 two opemngs the wall of the welL “Which
way leads to the river? If the stream was still flow-
ingII could easil determine.”

e stoo ed own to see if there was any water
trickling t rough the mud in which he stood, and as
he flas ed the light of the lantern downward the
bright rays fell upon something white and gliastliz.
which caused even the stern-nerved police spy is
s a '.

The bones of a murdered man were before him,
within arm’s le th—murdered he was certain, for
the handle of a nife protruded from the mudin
which the remains were partially im d

The clothes of the victim had ion since rotted
away and disapgeared, the rats and ot er vermin of
the undergroun passage had feasted fullu n the
fleshnand naught but 6 white and polished0 bones
remained.

It was plain that the man—tho discoverer assumed
that it was a man—had been stabbed in the den
above and then hurled into the old well, the mur-
derers never even taking the trouble to remove the
knife with which the deed had been done, but had
left it sticking in the body.

“Heaven 've me strength and ability to bring
these wretc es to usticcl” he cried in stem ac—
cents. “I was buried within this old well thatI
might be forever silenced, for it is plain that in
some mysterious way In errand was suspected and
my death decreed: but ate wills that I shall not on-
ly escape but bear with me the story of this hidden
crime, which else might never have seen the light.
If_I could discover who the victim was, erhapsI
might be able to bring the deed home to e perpe-
trators.”

Then, acting on this thought, be bent over, and by
the aid of the brilliant light of the lantern closely
examined the ghastly remains.

The ways of fate are sometimes marvelously
strange, and often the merest chance leads to the
detection of the most skillfully concealed crime.

Murder will out, they say, and, in truth, the old
adage sometimes is wonderfully correct.

A 'ttle heap of earth resting against one of the
rib bones attracted the keen eyes of the sgy.

It looked to him as if something was idden un-
demeath.

In a second he proved that his suspicion was cor—

rect.

Inside of the heap was a small package about eight
inches long by four wide and about an inch thick.

Carefully removing the thick coating of mud
which besmeared the cka e, the spy iscovered
to his intense satisfac ion t at the article was a
large Russia-leather ocket-book, securely wrapped
in a 10 piece of clo h.

“A c ewl a clewl” he cried, in glee. “Heaven
for the moment allow (1 these villains seemiixlg to

triumph, 0 that, in the end, their crimes uld
be discovere and they, the guilty ones, brought to
justicel"

 

CHAPTER VII. b
m LEGACY or burn.

Wrrs a nervous hand the bloodhound of the law
unrelied the wrapper which had protected the
book the ravages of the water so well, and
open .

It contained only a s gle article; just a common
sheet of note-paper, fo ed lengthwise.

The spy o ned it; the sheet was filled with close-
ly-written c rs raced in pencil, but, thanks
to the care with which the et—book had been
prepared. the writing was st quite legilie notwith-
standing the exposure it had unde one.

It was indorsed at the head as to owe:

“ Tan STATEKENT or Mmrox Bunion-ma."

“Ohoi” cried the s y, as he read the bold and
firmly written line; “ remember him, or, at least,
the name is familiar to me. Let me think—who was
he?”

Foramoment he uzzled over the
then all of a sudden e remembrance

him.

“ I have it now i” he exclaimed. “ Milton Builcas-
tor law er, of the firm of Bullcastor and Bullcastor,
their oéce on lower Broadway; father and son;
Milton was the father he disappeared about a year
ago, and when his affairs came to be examined, it
was discovered that he had appropriated to his own
use about eight or ninety t ousand do trust
funds committe to his care b his clients. e had
speculated in stocks, lost larg , and flndin that he
was on the verge of discovery, e be] h se to
all the funds he could lay hold of an
supposed to have escaped to Brazzl.
bones, I resume. He found a grave in this hole,
while all .he world su that he was enjoying
his ill-gotten gains in ar-ofi' Brazil. And his men
—-the money of which he robbed his trusting clien
—who got that? The villains who murdered him!
Ye no doubt of it!"

Tie police spy again resumed the perusal of the

,.
pa‘Pfis’ I am apprehensive that I shall never quit
this house alive," the writin ran, “I am desirous
to leave behind me some c ow to my fate, in the
h0pes that "t ma fall into the hands ofsome one
who will conve ' t to the roger authorities in or-
der that the vile sccundre , to whose clutches I
have been betrayed and who I am sure intend to
make way with me in order to possess themselves
of the valuables which by some means, I am cer.
tain. they know I possess, shall be brought to jugi
tice. I have been a weak and guilty man, and
now, with death staring me in the face, I earnestly
ask ardon of the r souls whom I have wronged
and ared, an I fully realize that the way of
the transgressor is hard. Ky affairs have been in-
volved for some time, and finding that it would be
impossible to stave off the e of my guilt in
using my clients‘ money as if t had been my own

I resolved to take what I could and fly, hoping that
in a foreign land fortune might favor me so that I
would be able to pay back be money I had taken.
A sin le man knew my secret Reginald Percy, a
Wall 3 reet broker, with whom I had dealings. In
some mysterious way he either knew, or suspect-

uestion, and
ashed upon

 

r.

 

 

1,:-

J ce Phenix.

5

 

 

rd, 1 was using my clients‘ money, and o i _
me so. From him I received the first timation
that. sus icion had been excited in ard to my-
self, an that I had better get.toge her what I
could and fly. He gave me directions how to
find this place, where I now am, a password,
‘I'm a friend of Captain Shark, and need ass1st-
ance,‘ and told me that the ople here would pro-
cure me a disguise and in time sm gle me out of
the countr ; but I am convinced t at. this man
Perc , has trayed me, and that I am in aden of
mur erers who only await a favorable moment to
put the knife to in throat. I have, concealed in a
money-belt aroun my waist the sum of about ten
thousand dollars in Bank of England notes—forty
lift - ound notes. Intending to go to California
antiY then to China I lErocured the English notes,
thinki that they wo d not draw suspicion to me
as we d the free use of our own money, as I in-
tended to pass myself of! as an Englishman. The
numberso the notes are"—and here followed the
numbers of the entire forty. “I was cordial] re-
ceived here; told that I must conceal myself or a
time, and was then conducted to a small room, the
window of which was barred by aheavy shutter; the
door has been kept constaiitl ' looked, a measure of
precaution only to keep out t e police, they say, but
much I fear it is more to keep me in. I am sorely
afraid to tastea morsel of food for fear of poison.
The names of two of the fellowsI have learned,
Louis Gironde and Anatole Luc and if I am mur-
dered these two men will probab y be the doers of
the deed. I will place this paper in my pocket-book,
wrap the book up well in strips of cloth, so as to

reserve it, and secrete it in the liningigof my coat,
gustin that time will bring it to ht_a_nd that
it mawa into the hands of some one Willing and
ableto bring these wretches to justice.

“ (Signed) MILTON BUIJEAS’I‘OB."

Carefully the police spy perused the paper, and a
gleam of Joy illuminated his stern face.

“ Aha, have them safe enough if I can only suc-
ceed in escaping from this hole!” he exclaimed.
" This Percy—he is evidently the chief of the gang.
This guilt fugitive predicted his fate only too cor-
rectly. T e fifty-pound notes should be easily traced.
It would be a rare stroke of luck if at the first at-
tempt I should succeed in bringing these daring and
blood -handed villains to justice. But, what course
had I tter pursue? Let me think i"

For a moment the spy meditated over the matter.

“ I will replace the pocket-book, leave every thing
Just as they were when I discovered them, then have
the police make a descent upon the lace and ex-
amine this pit. The knife, too, with w rob the deed
was evidently done may lead to the discovery of the
murderers.” ‘

Carefully then he re laced the aper in the pocket-
book, wound the clot around t returned it to its
original position and covered it with the sticky soil.

‘ And now to escape from this den of horrors,” he
muttered, casting a sear-chi glance into the open,
tunnel-like s ace at his right and.

Hardly h he done so when a cry of amazement
broke from his lips. I

Afar off up the narrow tunnel was a gleam of light
—a yellow star cutting the Egyptian-hke darkness.

Not a stationary ' I: but one in motion, evidently
comi from a lantern borne by human hands.

“I”; steadil adyancing " the s y muttered. “I
must he cant ous; more likely oes than friends.
The chances are great that my presence here is not
Ins ted, for the light of m lantern is directed

a nst the wall “ but even as e spoke he shut 03
the light of the bull’s-eye and utter darkness again
re ed.
fluchfng close to the wall, with his hand on one
of his revolvers, he waited for the approach of the
strangers.

Nearer and nearer came the light; soon he could
distinguish that the bearer of the lantern was not
alone, but accom named by a single companion.

The first thong t of the pohce-spy was that the
twain were a pair of thieves coming to complete
their work, but when the new-comers came so near
that their words could be distinguished, he saw at
once that he was in error.

“ Mon Dieu! I am afraid that we shall never find
our way out i" the man with the lantern exclaimed.

“ 0 keep on father; this passage must lead
somew ere ’ the other rephed.

The two then entered into the well and a cry of as-

tonishment came from them as the beheld the tall
figure of the policespy, now stan erect by the
wall.
The new-comers were father and son, as their
words indicated, Frenchmen evidently, dressed
poorl , their clothes now covered with mud, but
with onest faces. “

“Do notbe alarmed,“ the spy said: I presume
that you, like myself, have 0st your way in "the
sewer and are now trying to find your way out.

With the a )pearance of the two men the true
solution of ti: e of the

nly told

e riddle as to the drai
old well had flashed instantly upon theuifngnd of the

s . _

pi sewer had been run through it, and the thieves

norant of it, sup sed when they threw their v1c~

t ms down the we 1 that there was no escape for
them.

“ Yes, sir," responded the old man, “ my son and
myself are very poor, and we'supgsed that by de-
ecendin into the sewer we migh able to pick up
some vrfiuable articles, but the sewers here are not
like those of Paris. We lost our way, and for the
last two hours we have been wandering vainly about
endeavoring to find a way out." ‘

“This way, I thin leads to the river, ’ the spy
said pointing to the 0 er side of the well.

“ y following it then we can get out?"

“ It. is likeLv.‘ -

And then to the ears of the speakers there came a
strange, hollow sound.

They gazed at each other in wonder, but the mys-
te was soon solved by the sudden rush of a large
bow of water Into the well.

'1‘ tide was rising!

CHAPTER VIII.
noun-rs or nan.
“Tn tide is rising!"

A simple statement of a common thing, but to the
seminar, with nothing but a angioplank betwoon

 

himself and eternity, navigating his frail craft on an
uncertain, unknown sea, where sandy shoal and
re. ged rock lurked, hid beneath the wave and the
” b ue igeon,” the sailor‘s sounding— , was his
only gu de, the announcemen: of the risi of the
tide was a signal that he might hope for a air pas-
sa 6 to the trackless, unfat omed ocean wherehis
ga lant sea-bird could spread her white wings in
safety and fly with the speed of the wind over the
bounding billows.

But to the unfortunate adventurer on the mighty
deep, whose craft lay with “broken bones," her
stanch timbers pierced b the cruel rock, the soul-
less, senseless pu‘ate of e waters, the stolid vam-
pire crouching beneath old ocean’s smilin surface,
the rising of the tide was like the reading 0 a death‘
sentence to adcspairing criminal.

And so to these three men, so st met in the
hollow v..u1t beneath the surface 0 the earth, ghe
discovert-y that the tide was rising was anything ut
p easan .

“But is it possible?“ asked the Frenchman.

“ Do you not feel the water about your feet?” the
police spy questioned, in reply.

“Oh, man Dies!" exclaime the old man, “ there
is no doubt about it at all. I can lainly feel the
water," and then as he spoke he direc ed the light of
the lantern toward the bottom of the vault and
there, sure enough, the dark, snake-like current
could plainly be seen, cold, remorseless, like some
fabled monster, indifferent alike to human prayers,
to human tears or human threats.

“ But it may be a sudden discharge of water from
the upper sewer!" the son cried, vainly striving to
hope against hope.

‘ That riddle is easily solved," the police ugly ob-
served, and, stooping, he dipped his fi r the
black sullen stream, then applied the if) of his
ton e to the drops which cl to his han .

“ ell, well!" cried the 01 man, in breathless
e erness.

‘ It is salt!”

“ At least we can return die same way we came "
Staggested the yo man; “ by retreating from the
Elia e and gaining her ground we can escape the

er H

“ e are ve near the end of the sewer,“ the sp
remarked. “ t cannot be over a thousand
firom ,this spot to the dock where it empties in the

ver. ‘

“ Let us ush on at once!" cried the French-
man, eagerly “ ush on before the ti o rises high
enough to 0 ct our passage. We must not re-
turn; we have been wandering, lost in these fri ht-
ful underground passages for nearly twenty- our
hours. If we gothgck we hhorny rig: Re ableto flux?!
our way again 0 spot, m w c a Baron ,
there is a chance of finding an outlet, ant? we lose
our way again we may all e of starvation. "

“ We surely would be able to find a culvert," the
spy suggested; “ there is one at every corner, and,
by crying out for assistance, our voices would reach
some one in the street above, then by means of the
man-holes and the aid of a rope we could reach the
outer air again.”

“Oh, no, no!" the old man cried, decidedly, “that
plan is hopeless. We have already tried it, not once

ut a dozen times. The culvert so far above our
heads and the tunnel-like vault so drowns our voices
that it isb impossible to make ourselves heard by the

sers- y. '

“ The streets are almost deserted, too, now,” the
spy mused, half to himself, “and will be for the
next twelve hours."

"Our lantern will beout 10 before that time,"
the old man observed; “a1 y it is nning to
burn dim. We had no idea that we sho d be com-
pelled to remain below the surface so long. We en-

ered the sewer in Avenue B, near where we live,
early this morning when hardly a soul was stirring.
We arranged with a friend of ours to let us down by
means 0 a knotted rope through the man-hole at
the corner, and he was to help us up at the same
.ime twenty-four hours later, and we promised him
a share of what valuables we 3 ed in
We went at once through the cross—street sewer
Fifth avenue and then down Broadway,
that we would be able to findrich ickings.

“And did our" the astonished that
an one sho d devise a way of keetpling the
wo f from the door, being ignorant that in 0
city of Paris it is a common thing to " work the
sewers, the vast subterranean streets which hone -
comb the gay Parisian ca tal the favor-ii:
hun unds of the ra tcbers, as well as the
place 0 usiness of the seekers after valuables, the

‘chifloniers” of the drains, and a right lucrative
trade it is, too.

But, as the old man had obse the sewers of
the great city of the Western war the home of
jobbery and corruption, debt-corroded New York
mbab y the worst governed city that the worl

ever seen, were not at all like the cent
antler-ground ways of the superb-built French capi-

The twain glanced at each other at the abru tly.
put question; it was plain that, with the unfural
caution of their race, they hesitated to intrust to a
stranger the secret of their harvest.

The s y mislead the glances and a faint mile 11-

s rnface.
“Pardon the blunt questio gentlemen,” he said,
olyair that was so

quietly, and with the melan

common to him. “ I did not intend to pry into our
business, although the curiosity was but ugh-d
to ascertain if men who periled their lives as you
have b this enterprise, would profit enough by it
to pay hem for the risk."

‘ But you entered the sewer on the same errand.
did Iyou not, sir?" asked the old man, (haul-lamb,
“alt ough, sir, from your dress, one w di 0
that you were far removed from the state of a
lute want which dr0ve us to the attempt; bu sir,
we had no idea of the horrible condition of
sewers, and never dreamed that we should lose our
wa inthem."

‘ My presence here is an accident I did not come
of my own free will. but was assaulted and pitched
down what my murderers imagined to be an old
well, and which evidently they had no idea had
been drained b the sawmill-ring thropgeh it. But
airs, we are! ng time, time and tide wait
for no man' the water is steadily. Can you
both swim?"

“ Oh, yes!" both father and son answered in
chorus.
“ Let us push forward then; in this harbor the
water rises about six feet; one foot in an hour;
within thirty minutes we ought to be able to reach
the water-side. .The tide has only just be to
rise. and there Will not be more than a foot 0 water
in the sewer, if it empties into the dock at just low
water-mark, which is Probable. It will be an easy
swim to the nearest er, and rhaps we can sue-
ceed in climbing up t e dock ht at the mouth of
the sewer."

The two Frenchmen had no mind to try any fur-
ther expostulations within the subterranean pas-
sage; they had groped %uite long enough within the
vaulted way, and so t ey eagerly assented to the
plain of tlitrlalir nffiv-foundsifrien to th m

aking en 6 o po re e one in
whence the pair hafcome, with the police spy in the
advance, the three roceeded.

It wasa narrow ow, dark and dismal wa ; the
bull’s-e e lantern ln the hand of the spy its
glare s end like the head-light of a locomotive.

Great, huge-whiskered rats, astonished at the nn~
usual apparitions, and scampering away from the
rising water, darted by with wonderful celerity.
Steadily on pressed the grlggg), the water growing
deetgr and deeper, until at it filled the entire
b0 m of the sewer.

Constantly it rose until it was above the knees of
mghmefie h began to hens!

e nc men w a re ve' no
sign ahead was there of the egrgec Igpot where’the
sewer emptied into the dock, and it was plain that
in the interve two or three hundred yards, if the
water continued deepen as ra id as it had done
in the last hundred. that it won] the entire vol-
ume g; the sewer and further program would be im-

e.
“ Sir sir!" the old man cried. “ had we not better
go back? I fear that we shall be suffocated."
“ I think I can see distant lights ahead,” the police

CHAPTER II.
A ma mu m ns'r.
8mm years!
For that length of time, about, we retrace our

Ste

he; York cl in the summer of 1&1.

mififi'.‘ “a?” trims"? “m We
ness, on as w over t e
city of the nited States, seen the denizens of the
great metropolis so excited.

The streets were full of people; business seemed
ttfie be enflfily mperaggdmaad everigoddyy as out in
i o conve eve e

hagglhat was the cause of thirsy universal excite-
ment—why these pale faces, trembling um

i of dark-

anxious eyes—these soldiers in uniform h
through the streets?
Sumter’s tale, when toldahnd the cosmo-
politan cigfleu of in ividuals of every clime
asgreat never been before; but
then the streets were filled with a shou multi-
tude, ringing out cheers for the Union on the old
flung; and loudly damandin arms that they might
to revenge the insuIt that the “stan and
stripes " had received. ‘

But on this sultry evening men looked at each
other with wonderng eyes and talked with bated
breath, although some were fierce in oath.

The nation was a man reeling under the influo

tidings that the ht? Uni hich mm"
onarm w n
cased W d whiZh all fond be-

th
foe,hadmet the enemy at Bull Run and hadsus-
tained a terrible defeat.
Atfirstthopublicrefused tocredit the news;im
ml)»; it could not be! Was not old Boo the
of ‘ Lane, the veteran general 0 the
0 North

Mexican war, are a mere handful er-
ican soldiers, com to the ellow hosts which
confronted them, way from the sea-

as:

coastto the walls of was he not command-

er-in-chief, and had he not leaned the advance!

. "Tm “W °.iN°i‘li.‘£3’§igm.n W431“?
e — e o

album—the stout and stolid German troopers—the

mafil‘nd mnimmhmmm’ b ble licDo ll

a a we

led co not be beaten l" y

But it was so, nevertheless.

And when the sun went down upon that blunder-
ing. badly-contested battle-field, where both sides
came very near running away from each other, each
one bellow that the other had the best of the

0

fight, the n army, as an arm , existed no more.
but a rabble rout of uniform itives, half of
them without weapons, for in their eadlongntlwr

{iii mums? é'mfitmmin‘; 33 h‘ an”

o e roa e e ca .
Forage first time the North realized that) the
South “meant business," and that along and bloody
war was before it, instead of a holiday promenade
in uniform.

The money-market is the pulse of a nation, and
Bull Run had no less influence upOn the market than
it had um individuals at large, altho h the news
arriving at noon, hardly produced its effect that

lad upon the rise or fall of stocks, fortunes, lives,
sometimes depend.

At tan o‘clock of the night of Bull Run‘s do. in a
smallefiiceina basementof Wail street, wzhin a
stone‘s-throw of the Exc where fortunes are
wonandloctina minute, be dahugedesk, which
gain gm‘ himfromthehgazeofanyone

lime young man w one penance
was docid of the German tyfiA ‘p
Upon that n sign outside was inscription,

" VAN DERWOLF 3308., BROKERS-

“Lnoronn Van-sworn.

"Vic—ion Vimnwou."
Twin brothers were these two Vanderwolfii, and so
much alike that it would often have puzzled even an
intimate acquaintance to tell one brother from the
other, but for the fact that they alwa I took care to
dress diflbrently and were their h in Muscat

 

fashions.
Leopold, the elder, won his hair short; Victor.

..-_,..---._..—-a.." _.. --v-... .—

  

 

5

the younger brother rejoiced in long locks which
curled down toward his neck after the (ire my
German lfashion, peculiar to the gay, wild stu ent

lads.

And so it was, owing to this peculiarity, that the
brothers, although almost the exact image of each
other, could be easily distinguished by those familiar
with their appearance.

The man seated at the desk, poring over a sheet of
foolscap filled with res, wore his hair long, and
any of the Wall stree brokers, acquainted with the
firm at a single glance would have said:

“ That is V ctor Vanderwolf, the younger of the

7!

brothers.

The multitudinous array of figures ap arently did
not please the y0un brother, for his rowa were
contracted and he rummed nervously upon the
desk with his thin, bloodless right hand.

The as—jet burning over the desk was half-turned
down, ut it afforded sufllcrent light, and any one
agoring into the office from the street would have

lieved that it was unoccupied and in its customary
state as left for the night.

Along sigh came from the lips of the man as he
slowly raised his eyes from the paper, which he had
been stud g with so much care.

“Itiso no use," he murmured; “I‘m done for,
and it is of no use to struggle ainst it. This infer-
nal defeat has alread sent 0! up, and to-morrow
it will climb still hig er, an I have contracned to
deliver fifty thousand dollars‘ worth. I calculated
that the Union arm would surely win and that gold
would fall, so that could make a handsome profit.
I'm only in for a trifle, but I am utterly without re-
sources. I 3 go by the board to-morrow, and
then comes an examination of my affairs; the
to ed paper I have put afloat will e discovered
an that means Sing Sing—the State Prison.
mus’ make a bolt of it. It‘s hard, too, ust as I have

t evarg'th all ht—my enemy in ing Si for
figs, and biz. ti vo wife beginning to look h a
favorable eye upon my suit. Why, I might as well
kill myself at oncei" And as he spoke he drew out
a polished six-shoeing cocked it and laid it upon the
desk before him.

“ It‘s buta sin is movement of the fin er upon
the trigger, and my 'ilottings will be en ed."

And as, with a dark 'rown upon his handsome
face, he gazed at the deadly weapon, he heard a
slight noise at the street door as though some one
was inserting a key in theiock.

“ Hallo! what oes that mean?“ he murmured,
taking the revolver up in his hand, ready for action.

The door opened, slowly and cautiousl closed,
and then again a key grated in the lock. ootsteps
stole cautious! across the omce, and a tall, power-
ful man, plain dressed in dark clothes, came round
the corner of the high desk to find himself covered
to his utter amazement, by the revolver in the hand
of the broker.

Never was there a mortal man more astonished
than the burglar, for such he evidently was, at the
une encounter. —

An oath seen from his lips, upon hearing which
46101184181 broker in bed.

“ You are surprised, my rlend." he said.

“ Well, yes, answered the outlaw, somewhat at
a loss to know what to make of this greeting.

“ You are in search of portable valuables, I pre-

sume " Vanderwolf continued.

“Wellng I suppose I am," replied the man,

in .

x11831:}. you are not more surprised at findln me
here, pre to receive you, than I will be you
succeed n finding anything in this office worth

ing off," and then the speaker laughed, a low,
mocking laugh, so utterly cruel and fiendlike that it
made the intruder feel uncomfortable.

“You're a cool nd!” the cracksman exclaimed,
in admiration. “I card that you had about fifty
thousand dollars in gold in your safe—"

“ And on couch: ed to relieve me of the amount,
oh?" sai Vanderwolf, finishing the sentence. “ Well,

if on can d five dollars in the safe, ou‘re
we come to it. There‘s the key,” and the roker
nodded where his keys were laid u n the desk.

“I reckon, stranger, that you ve ot me," the
burglar remarked. ‘ I don‘t care to p ay any game
where a six-shooter is the first card ag’in’ me.”

The broker contemplated the man for a moment;
a bold, brilliant idea had flashed into his brain.
Before was naught but ruin and despair; had not
the fiend he served sent this man as atooltoaid

f

“Hark ye, friend; I‘m a ruined and desperate
man.“ he said, hoarse! . “I know where we can
put our fingers on a undred thousand dollars, if
you will do the work, this very night, and more
perhaps in the future,"

“It‘s a bargain, Cap!“ cried the bu lar. “ I need
just such a artner as you are, and ether we‘ll
make things um!"

And this is the way that the band was begun.

CHAPTERX.

k f Tun. ightth tth u

Jon one wee mm on a epo (3er

had so boldly ventured into the thieves' den and had

suffered thereby, n we‘ll visit the vile uarters.
Nine o'clock had ust sounded, and very ew of the

gang who made the Traveler‘s Rest their head-

quarters had come in from their nightly wander-

Wm
t are the wa s of the men who live by
u n their fellgws- like the owls of the wood
the maio ty of them are abroad only by night, and
keep themselves closely concealed durin the da .
Good reason for this precaution Since he mos of
them are “wanted” by the police, and during the
hours of darkness they can better succeed in evad-
ing the officers of the law, the keen-eyed detectives,
than in the bread of the sunlight.
The e as behind the bar as usual, busil
eng ed in knitting; a couple of customers, ha! -
en sailors, were e ed at a ganm of cards at
one of the tables, and the renclnnun, Gironde, amok-
in a long clay pipe, was at another.
ver and anon the hostess cast uneasy glances at
the two sailors. It was plain that she rather desired

 

their absence than their company.

The sign of the house, and price of the beds affixed
to it, was but a device to blind the e as of the police
tothe real character of the place, t being nothing
'0" than a " new“ of stall “ for rogues o: “‘rwes'

 

(:3 39—. * unfit

Joe Phemxo

 

No honest lodgers were ever received; they were not

wanted; whenever they applied for beds they were

told that the house was ull, and if some obstinate

fellow insisted upon stayin , he was generally taken

‘iin hand in short order an kicked out of the front
oor.

Strangers were welcome to come in and drink all
they liked, but after their money was gone, the
quicker they departed the better.

Gironde noticed the uneasy glances of the woman
and he sauntered over to the bar.

“You are ill at ease to-night, my duck," he said,
addressing her in French.

“ Yes, men Dteu .’ I can not help it," she replied,
us‘i‘nfirt‘hefisame language.

“ I can not tell."

“ Those rats yonder are nothing.”

“No, nothing.”

“ Drunken seamen, that is all."

“ Yes, all."

“ No police spies."

The woman started and cast a rapid glance up into
the face of the speaker.

“ That is your thought, eh?" he continued.

The Madame shook her head.

“ No, I do not think that they are
that man came here the other night,
pearvgrri‘ceivof every stranger."

ies, but since
dread the ap-

“I have bad dreams now," and a troubled expres-
sion came upon the woman’s face as she spoke.
“ Ba dreams? Bah! m igeon, you must not

A
g
I

“Well, what of it?“ asked the Madame, with a

1 ston glare.
I “ ant a bed—a five-cent bed and clean sheets!"
i the fellow said, and then he looked around him as
E if anxious to discover where the lodging-recur was
1 situated.
5' “ We‘re all full,” answered the hostess, shortly.

“Oh, I’m all right-I’m fly!” cried the man, with
a knowing wink. “I’m an old pard of two of your
friliends; guess you don’t know Gironde and Lucca,
e ?‘

Both the men named took a look at the man.

“I don’t know you !" Gironde exclaimed, roughly.

“Nor I!” Lucca added.

“ Hullo! you ain’t the coves, are you?”

“ My name is Gironde.”

“ And mine Lucca.”

“Then you are both my prisoners!" cried the
man, with a sudden change of tone, whipping out a
aair of revolvers and “ covering " both of the as

nished rascals.

CHAPTER XI.
s'rnnrmo rm: TRAIL.

CossrmA-rrox sat upon the faces of the two men
at this sudden and unexpected development, for not
the slightest suspicion o danger had either of them.
i “ Don’t move hand or foot or I‘ll put a bullet
; through: you!" the man commanded, sternly; and
i then, fore the Madame, who was always on the
alert in the case of danger threatening any one of
her chickens, could produce the revolver w ich lay
on a small shelf underneath the bar, and which she

 

ve heed to such thin . at are dreams? noth- , had grasped at once upon the true character of the
! You eat too muc , my dove!" ; tram being made manifest, be slightly raised the
e Madame shook her head. ‘ muzz e of one of his pistols and fired a single shot

“ That man was different from any spy that I ever 9
saw," she said, slowly. “When he 00 ed at me his ,
eyes Seemed to read my very soul. on no, my love, i
I am not weak-minded—I am not a child to cry out i
at a bit of blood; I have supped on it; but this man
—mon Dim! there was something about him more [
than mortal. I dreamed last night that he was alive 1
down in the well, and that he sat there as proud as T
a king upon his throne and he said to me: ‘ You
placed me here, and when the time comes, I shall
call upon you and you must come; you shall sit be- 1
side me here in the well until the rats gnaw the flesh
away and nothing remains but our polished bones!‘ ” ,

Despite the iron-like nerves of the Frenchman, he ,
felt a chill creep over him as he listened to the reci- '
tal. The sub ect was not every leasant one. ,

“ And then dreamed more,‘ t e woman continu-
ed. “I dreamed that Iwas a skeleton and sat be.
side that man in the well, and he called out to me
and told me to fetch the captain, and I went for him
—went to where he was in his grand hotel with all E
the beautiful ladies around him; I dragged h in out
of their soft arms and folded him in m fieshless
ones, and he be ged and grayed and shrie ed, but I
said to him: ‘ y brave
wants you I"

There were a few moments‘ silence and then the ‘
Frenchman turned the conversation:

“ My dove. ou 10ve the captain, do you not?“

“ I would ace the fiend for his sake," she replied,
coldly, but with a glint of fire in her dark eyes.

“ And yet knowing that you have only a share of
his heart-that there are five or six of those soft
dames in silks and laces, grand ladies, every one of
them, who have as good a claim to him as you, I am
3 rised sometimes that you are not jealous."

“ y should I be?" the woman demanded, blunt-
1 . “ I am no fool! What am I, compared to him?
{did he ever fancy me? I am a creature to
frlg ten not attract.“

‘ But he does favor you."

“ Yes, and I would pour my life’s blood out drop
by dro to serve him. If I knew of a girl whom he
fancie for a wife, and she hesitated, with my own
hands would I place her in his arms. He is my
master and I would die for him i"

The conversation was interrupted at this point by
the noisy departure of the two sailors, who reeled
out of the room, swearing at the top of their lungs.

Hard] had they departed when a middle-aged,
slightly- uilt man, in dark clothes. whose swarthy
face and stron ly-marked features plainly betrayed
his Italian or n, came hastily into he saloon.

“ From the captain," he said, giving a sealed letter
to the Madame as he s ke.

She opened it quickly? her manner plainly betray-
ing eagerness.

Aha! listen!” she cried, as she glanced her eyes
over the contents.

“ Be on guard tonight or tomorrow night; there
is da er in the air. ll‘oronce my means of in-
format on have failed me. There is some secret in-
fluence at work more gowerful than anything that
we have ever yet face . There is a blow impend-
ing, but from whom it will come—the direction—the
time—its exact nature—I cannot‘tell. But, be on
the look-out, and warn the he s. Let all undertak-
ings thm are on foot be aban oned at once, and no
new ate 3 taken until you hear from me ain."
“(S gned) CAPTAIN ms."

‘“ Aha! Mon Dieu .’ you see my dreams come true!"
the Madame exclaimed, excitedly. “ It is not for
nothing that I do dream!”

The two men looked at each other puzzled. Never
before had such a warning been received; the dan-
ger must indeed be great.

But before they could discuss the mysterious
document the entrance of a stranger attracted their
attention.

He was a rough-looldng, powerfully-built fellow,

I
0y, you must come, for he i

evidently as a s'gnal, for almost instantly a squad 0
blue-coated licemen came pouring into the saloon.
ared or action, too, were the “ inetropoliv
tans ' for each and every man brandished a cocked
revo ver in his hand.
At this irru tion of the vigilant and well-armed
guardians of he law, the Madame frowned grimly
and relinquished her grasp of the concealed revolver;

, resistance to such an overwhelming force was mere

madness.

As for the two men, the Italian scowied and thrust
his hand into his besom as if with intent to grasp a
knife, while the Frenchman, an older and far more
wily bird, looked with well-affected astonishment
u n the policemen, and reco nizing the sergeant in
c arge bowed raciously to him.

The officers ad rushed in, expecting a fight, for
the Policemen of the district had never yet succeed-
ed n taking a man out of the Traveler 8 Rest with-
out encountering a desperate resistance.

But on this occasion the saw that the work was
done. The two men, help ess, covered by the muz.

. zles of the spy‘s revolvers, had neither chance to
: draw a weapon nor to cry to their comrades for

rescue.

“Mon Dieu.’ what is this for?" cried the French-
man, as the officers commenced to handcqu him,
while the Italian submitted in sullen silence.

“ Ask no questions and we’ll tell you no lies,"
replied the sergeant, briskly and then he approached
the bar upon which the Ma ame was leaning, look.
mg with a stony face upon the scene.

‘You will pardon me, Madame.” he said. With a
bow—this sergeant was a very polite and gallant
man—“but I am compelled to ask you to consider
yourself under arrest. ’

“You arrest me?" exclaimed the woman. 8mm
and strong, and yet with a glare in her eyes that
boded no Ifood.

“Yes, adame; I regret that stem dut compels
me to make known to you the unpleasant. act.

“Why am I arrested? what charge do you make
against me?” _

“ The captain will give you all the information.
the officer re lied evasively.

.“Very we —I ave done nothin —I will not re-
sist," the Madame responded, slow y, and taka 3
hood and shawl from under the counter. She Cf"
out into the middle of the apartment; but the niov
ment she did so, with lightning-like speed two burly
policemen seized her, pinned her arms, and a third
with wonderful alacrity sprung a pair of handcuffs
upon her wrists.

So quickly was this particularly neat little oper-
ation performed that the Madame was help 685
before she had a chance to exert the vast Strength
which she possessed.

For a moment she was furious; she ground her

3 teeth together and the muscles of her Power“

frame swelled until it seemed almost probable that
she would burst the steel bracelets with which her
wrists were ornamented.

Not at all sorry were the stalwart ardians of the
law that she was powerless for misc ief.

And now that the prisoners were effectually 39'
cured, the police spy, who had remained a quiet
spectator to the scene, came again to the front:

All three of the prisoners surveyed him With a
curious glance; the person of every detective in the
cit was well known to them, and they were anxious
to earn which one of the four it was who had suc-
ceeded in entrapping them so successfully, but
their scrutin was in vain; they did not recognize
the man, an soon came to the conclusion that he
was a stranger. H

“ Is there a force posted at the door? asked the
spy, and at the sound of his cold, quiet voice, so
machine-like in its articulation the criminals started
in surprise and glanced uneasily at each other.

They had heard the voice before I

But when or where, they could not tell

 

his clothes almost in rags and stained with mud. A
battered-up old hat crowned his shock head and
from under it the long hair escaped in tangled
masses. His chin was covered with a stubby heard,
his face dirty and discolored; altogether he was
as unsavory a tramp as one would meet in a lo
night‘s search among the station-house lodgers 0
New York.

He seemedto be urr‘er the influence of liquor,
too, for he reeled slightly as he came across the

floor.
“This is the Traveler’s Rest, ain‘t it?" he said, in

athick husky voice.
The dame looked u n the fellow in disgust.
She had seen manya case, but this present

specimen was bv far the worst that had ever come

 

under her observation.

“ Yes, sir," the sergeant replied, in answer to tl‘
a queiiion' th a1 " th ded
‘ “ ring em ong, e spy comman .
I Naturally the three prisoners supposed that they
were going to be escorted at once tothepearest
1 station-house, but to their intense surprise, the
l apnea spy proceeded, not to the entrance door, but
i the narrow portal leading to the cellar.
Rapid lances of a prehension were exchanged
between t e three con ederates.
‘i They guessed at once the urpose of the officers;
’ the spy, whom they had en rapped to death, ha(

been missed, and the bluecoats were about to search
the house for him; but why the search was to begin
with the cellar was a mystery, unless by some
inirf!"ulv‘::'; means the St' 'rct u’.‘ the icrrmlv ‘13:»
lending to the old _well was suspected or known.

 

 

 

 

 

 “mm-ah...“ .4

Joe Phenix.

'7

 

 

But if this was the case, how was it that the spy had
fallen into it so blindly?

The secret of the cellar was known onl to two
persons until the time came for disposifi o the dis-
guised agent of police, and then the me .one
of the two to whom we have referred, was obliged
by the necessities of the case to reveal the existence
of the tra to the Frenchman and to the Italian.

The p0 'ce 5 y threw open the cellar door, the
policemen roguced their bull‘s—eye lanterns, and
and ed the r prisoners to move on.

“ is the meaning of this?" demanded the
woman; “ where do you want us to go? why do you
not take us to the station-house and let us know the
crime for which we have been arrested?”

“ We want evidence and we expect to find it in the

cellar," replied the sergeant; “and, by the way, it a

is my duty to warn you in regard to what you say,
for it may be used against you."

“ 0h, mon Dieu!" cried t 1e Madame, with a bitter
laugh; “ 1 am not afraidi I have sect. entlemen of

the law before. I am not a child—I ow how to ‘

take care of myself; but in searchin my cellarI
warn ou beforehand that you will 0 y have your
labor or our painsl”

“That our busin " returned the sergeant,
shortly. “ Oblige me by escending the stairs. ‘

“ Aha, sang-dieu, sergeant i" exclaimed the French-
man, jocosely: “you have such a persuasive way
glith you that we shall find it quite impossible to re-

se.

The party descended into the cellar, and the glare
of the lanterns illuminated the rocking, vault-hire

it.
p “ Haiti" commanded the spy, as soon as the arty
had advanced three steps from the stairs, an then
he addressed the woman:

“ Now, Madame, step forward and work the spring
of the trap-door."

Des lte the almost perfect control that the two

had over their features they could not re-

strain an ex ression of surprise rom passin acrom
their faces, ut the woman, although am at the

knowledge of the speaker, never betrayed it even by i

the uiver of an e elid.

” rap-door?" e cried, in well-assumed wonder.
“I know of no trap—door.“

The spy replied not, but taking a lantern from the
hand 0 one of the officers, proceeded to the wall
and commenced to examine it carefully. much to the
astonishment and disma of the three criminals.

Who was this disguise man, and how in the name
of wonder did he gain his knowled e?

Carefully the spy sounded the wa l with his fingers,
testing each gecting stone to see if it was the one
which con the spring.

Suddenly a stone yielded beneath his touch, and
tlhen anhuge cavity appeared right in the center of
t e oe ar.

The officers started, the woman glared and the
men risoners swore under their breath. ’This was
an un ucky discovery.

The police were provided with ropes, and the ser—
geant the police spy and two more men descended
Klfo the gloom p t.

With carefu eyles they noted the appearance of
the remains of t e murdered broker, secured the

cket-book from its hiding-place in the mud the
mfe with which the murder evidently had been

done, and then, returning to the cellar ainhhurried
their prisoners off to the station-ho eavrng two
men, with a strong guard above, to co act the bones
of the victim.
CHAPTER x11.
'rnn nnnn aosn.

Tin Bohemian sat silent and thou htful for quite
alon time after the worn had le t the room, and
the thoughts that were ing through his mind
were not articular-1y pleasant ones.

“The 0 d cati” he muttered; “how the deuce did
she discover who I was? The chances were a thou-
sand to one against it, but it makes very little diaer-
cnce as ion as she is content to hold her tongue, but
if she sho d blab in regard to the matter to the irl,
she would be sure to scare m bird for a coyer m-
sol than this in -likc beauty c would be hard to find.
I am a fool. af r all, to take this trouble about a
simple girl, but there is a strange fascination about
her that I can not account for. I have seen and
fancied many a woman in my time, but this dainty
creature is worth them all. So far I have tried to
win her by ure, sim in and honest means, but if
this course ails then will tr another.”

The man started up sudden y and paced the room
restlessly fora few moments his long ellow hair
drooping down upon his shoulders like a on’s tawny
mane.

“ I wonder if there is an truth in the old wo~
man‘s etc that there is a eve aflair between the
rl and th s 1vloung fellow?" he muttered. “ ad
’11 find out t e truth at once. She is robab y at
home and hard at Work. I’ll make bold call upon

her. Let me think of an excuse 1"

He ndered for a few moments with his hand
upon he door-knob, and then his ready mother-wit
came to his aid. ‘

“ I have it!” he muttered, “it will do.’

Then from his well-tilled pookct-book he selected
a five-dollar bill and thrust it carelessly into lns vest-

cket.

PoCrossing the entry, he proceeded to the door of the
girl’s apartment and knocked

A second later the door opened, and the pale,
beautiful face of Adalia appeared.

“ Excuse my disturbing ou," he said bowing as
allantly and addressing t e flower-maker as po-
ltel as if she had been the atest lady "I _he

.lan , “ but I have a little comm ion which I think
you can execute if you care to take the trouble."

“Certainly if I can; will you walk in, please?"
sho answere .

The Bohemian entered into the charmed bower of
the woman he loved, with a firm ste and a quiet
face although the iron-like heart wit in his bosom
was ating with unwonted rapidity for there is a
nameless spell ever .rvudin the riding-place of
youth and heaut wh ch intox cates the lover whose
pulses are throbgi with love‘s delirious thrill.

“Please be seat ,” she said, placi a chair by
the side of the little table at the wm ow, whereon
her lamp sat, andflwllich was covered over wrth arti-
ficial flower mate a a.

9*: NJ wanna-club" Will “nth. other I“. 9‘

 

1. momen .

 

the table and she resumed her place in it and looked
questionineg into the face of her visitor.

And a handsome face it was, too! Few men in
all New York could match this wild, devil-may-care
fellow, who although no boy, bore {ears as
lightly as if his feet were treading on the t reshold
o manhood.

“ Making rose-buds, I see,” he said, referri to
the {lower materials scattered upon the httle tab e.

4  3V

“ Well, that‘s exactly what I want.”

“ Rose-buds!" she exclaimed, in astonishment.

“Yes, a sin le one only, but something dlflerent
from these; want a blue rose.“
th‘f Aflblue rosel Why, I never heard of such a

me.

"No more did anybody else, I guess!” he replied,
laugh . “but I can explain the matter to you in a
You know that I am connected with the
press, and my particular duties bring me much ;
contact with the artistic ladies and ntlemen who
get a livin by amusing the public. ell, this after-
noon, on roadway, I met with a b ht and shining
light in the artistic world, a pretty 'ttle lady who
has made a fortune in the last ear or two on the
stage, and stoppinglme to beg t at I would not for-
get to mention in t e jouma s with which I am con-
nected that she would soon appear in the city again,
she asked my advice upon an 1m rtant matter. She
wanted a blue rose; s e had ta 'en a fancy to have
a rose of that color, because she had never seen one,
and she wanted to be odd—to have somethi differ-
ent from any one else; she had searched all h
the stores, but no blue rose could she find, and s e

' had just been told in the last store which she had

visited that it would be necessary to have one made
to order and so she begged me to undertake the
commiss on and gave me a five-dollar bill to pay for
the work. Now will you undertake it?"

“Certainly; it is easy enough, but the sum is far
too much for such a simple thing."

“ Don‘t- besitate to take it; the actress has money
enough. Why I have known her to make two or
three thousand dollars in a single week."

The rl opened her eyes in astonishment.

" Isl possible?"

“ Oh, yes quite true; sometimes thesestage peo-
ple are pai extremesY well."

“ Three thousand ollarst" rggeated the girl, al-
most mechanically, her eyea fix upon the fioorin a
dream sort of way, her thoughts evidently wander-
ing. ‘ Three thousand dollars? Why, it is a for-
tunel Oh, if I could only make such a sum!"

The eyes of the man sparkled and a slight smile
plfied around the corners of his mouth.

is was a revelation which he had not expected;
the beautiful girl, toilingin poverty‘s grinding chain,
(rived "Whey1 rful harm b hi h th

one ltepowe c yw c eaverage
humanlieart is touched!

“She is mine!" he murmured in his heart of
hearts, his eyes drink in eagzrh the matchleas
beaut of her face, and wel rapture upon the
an r contour of her rfect orm.

Three thousand dol ars is not such a great sum,"
he said, carelessly. “ Why. there's many a rich man
in this big cit who would glad! give three times
three thousan dollars to win t e love of such a
charming rl as you are."

She lit up her dreamy-looking eyes and smiled
faintly at the compliment.

“You‘are esti ," she re lied° “ there areplen
of girls an as am in ew ork, and the ric
lovers who m poor girls exist only in the pages
of the novelist; such unions do not happen very
often in real life.“

“But suppose that 1313(1): had such a chance?" he
askedz laug ing the w as if it was all a pleasant

est' ‘ sup e that there was adgentleman in New
ork who ancied you and shoul come and say, ‘I
am rich; I love you; marry me and I will take you
forever from this life of lowly toil and place hyou in
a circle where your worth and beauty will a no re-
s lendentf But perhaps on are not heartfroe, and
t erefore could not accep the offer?"

The girl shook her head.

“ You are not in love with any one, then 2"

There was ust a faint flush upon the checks of
the r and he uestioner, noting it with a ealous
file, -frow but he had control enoug over

features to dismiss the ugly look almost upon
the instant.

“Oh, no; it would not be right for me to fancy
an one," she replied slowly.

e answer puzzled him or a moment, but he did
not stgpato question her about it, so eager was he to
press former in 

“Well, if a man a come, as I have described,
and, acknowledging that he had been conquered by
your attractions, lay himself and fortune at your

eet, would you accept him i"

As rig as a serpent watching a bird which he

wished K c arm, the Bohemian watched the beauti-

fulface of the rl, while with downcast eyes she,
apparently, in cred over the question.
‘ Oh. no, could not!" she aficlaimu? after a few
flogging: reflection. “1 con! noti t would not
Clever as was the Bohemian be misunderstood the
’s in

“All but you might learn to love him in time!"
he exclaimed, “ even if the feeling did not exist in
your heart in the beginn "

“ Love," said the girl, with a sigh; “I never
thou ht of love; that was not in my mind at all. it
woul be simply a ain and sale. For the sake of
the money I would so myself to the man, and he
would buy me as if I were a horse or a dog that he
fancied, but he would not believe that; he would be-
lieve that I cared something for him and therefore
I say it would not be right to deceive . It would
be a terrible temptation for with money in my
scss on I could see that ustice was done to the un-
fortunate Gilbert Barlee, who died in Sing Sing. and
could prove his innocence by dragging the real
criminal to lifht."

The face 0 Percy became as white as though it
was carved out of marble as he listened to the girl's
avow

 

CHAPTER XIII.
raise us run mu.
No finer house in all Madison avenue, from Hadl-
un square to 49d street, than the stunt bnowm

 

 

;

stolrée palace of the retired banker, Leopold Vanden
wo .

For a man who had succeeded in amassinga colos-
sal fortune, various] reputed to be worth from five
to ten millions, Van erwolf was quite a young man,
not over thirty-five or forty at the outside.

This Vanderwolf was the elder partner of the
house of Vanderwolf Brothers Wall street brokers,
a slight account of whom we already have given.

the stormy financial times of the war the
brothers had speculated % made much money,
and finally went into the rig business, which
event took place just after the fall of Richmond and
the destruction of the Southern Confederacy. We
sag the brothers, but herein we are wrong, for
w en the bankin house was 0 .ned, the sign read
Vanderwolf and 0. instead 0 the old firm name,
and within a year Victor, the youn er brother, dis-
ap , and the si was chang to simply Leo-
po Vanderwolf, ban en

The busy folks of New York rarely concern them-
selves much about their nei hbors’ afi’airs, and to
the few who took the troub e to in uire about the
absent Victor Leopold made answer t at he had re-
ltliredf from the business and was traveling for his

n.

As it was well known in commercial circles that
the firm had made large gains, for in times of great
monetary stringency very fretkuaent they had in-
vested ely and so realized e y, while every~
body won e what millionaire t was furnished
the _capital to enable this young firm to do so 8 a
busm it was sup that the ounger brot er,
tired 0 business and thinki t at he was rich
enough, had file off to Europe 0 enjoy himself.

True or f this belief, one thing was certain:
after the ch e in the firm name, no soul in New
York ever saw ictor Vanderwolf again.

Vanderwolf still kept a small office in Wall street,
although practically retired from active business,
but as he was popularly supposed to be heavily in-
terested in real estate, it was not strange that he
kefitl up an omce.

e retired banker had just finished his dinner—-
be dined at six, after the fashion of the u town
folks—and was seated in his elegantly-fl ted-up
hbrary, snugly ensconced in a huge cushioned easy-

chair enjo a fragrant Havana, the rice of
which woufdmfimost support the family 0 a work-
ingman for a day.

A handsome, well-preserved man was Vanderwolf,
with his keen blue eyes, well-fattened face, and gen-
eral air of contentment.

No lean and h Cassius was he, to lay awake
0' nights with a m n filled with fearful imaginintgs.

And most certainly, if the good ienius, as in to
Eastern tale, had come to New Yor and unroofed
houses in search of a “hapglymmanf’ he would have
rested content the moment a had fal-
len upon the placid features of Vanderwolf.

The banker was not married—had never been and
dwelt alone in his cum tuous palace without kiih or
kin, although surroun ed by half a dozen servants‘
headed by a ho eeper, a woman of magnificen

apfiarance, fitted to adorn an station.
a banker, with dreamy, alt-closed ms, was
listlesst into the c eerful grate which
upon the hearth. for altho h ring had

fairly come, the nights were still'a litt e c '11 .
One of the eve newspapers lay upon the floor
at the banker‘s fee and axmechanically, he hap~
nod to glance down at it, t e glaring head-lines of
day‘s sensation met his eyes.

“CRIME.
“rnroarls-r Lanna-r.
“A mm or nonnons
“nu-m n: an on: wan."

And then followed a full account of the descent
of the lice on the Traveler‘s Rest and the arrest
of the the discovery of the remains
of the murdered man, or with the poclget-
mgllcg: N his statement 03 (.1111; manner in

11 en ra an ac ‘ i‘ l

harde rod cedpped’ m w I

p u a strong im ressionu s-
gn itthe banker, and he was now meditatingp solely “11‘

n

“A most mysterious affair" he observed, lazil
flicking the ashes from the ti 'of the cigar, and a -
dressing his conversation to t e dancing flames lay-
in among the black diamonds of the grate; yes,
in a most mysterious affairi I can’t make
head nortail of it. How the deuce did the polici-
discover there was a trapdoor in the cellar, and
when that fact was known, what led them to su )—

that a evidence of a hidden crime could v..-

Thve‘Yedtiem’lf iked th

an an erwo c u e ran *'
over the account agEin: p pape d emu“

“ From secret information which had reached the
gglice authorities. and the source of which cannot

made ublic at present for fear of defeating the
enda‘pf ustrce,“ 0 read slowly, half to himself,
half on .

“ Yes. that‘s the way th always ut it' these
newspafir fellows rarel teryavel out 51‘ the beaten
paths. ut is it true, or it but the rigmarole of :1
anti-crunch drawing u n his imagination to em-

lli the plain recital o the arrests?”

“ The proof is stro against them that they were
concerned in the m er of the unfortunate fugitive
from lalustice, who robbed his creditors and then tied
with e proceeds of his sWindling schemes onl ' in
fan the prey of a set of es more d rate “.11
gimlfihaen‘d tm 11’s nth y: trfivubt of themconvic-

on o w on e evidence not ‘0
conclusive against the womgn." b

The banker tapped the pa r nestlessl with his
fortta-tglnger for a moment w a he con dered the
ma .

u “ be evidence is conclusive. eh?" he murrrum';
let me examine it and see if it is. First, that i
the document left by the victim in which he distinct-
ly declares that he expects to be murdered, and ii at,
in case he is foully dealt with, the Frenchman ml
the Italian will undoubtedly be his assailants. Strong

evidence to lay before a. jury, but yet not entirely
conclusive. for a man can not foretell the futurr.
the two meant to kill him, but i. -
ry fancy of n r" .
Au ab’io lawyer mig t be able to c..-

Ee believlefir n]
surmise t t l
Ordered train, 0 y be v“ on

 

 

.. -74. ..

 
   

8*

J’oe Phenix.

 

 

lain that away, or at all events to so weaken the
orce of it that it Would not, alone and unsuppm ted,
convict the accused. The bank of England at tes,
large denomination, easy to trace, for they are not
common on this side of the water, and the nu nt-ers
known. Now can they go back and bring witnesses
to prove that either one of these two men changed
sueh notes as they are alleged to have robbed their
victim of? Ahal” cried the banker, suddenly, and
he brought his hand down sharply upon his knee as
he spoke, “ that’s a weak spot in the line of tire de-
fense, for the chances are a hundred to one that
they can prove that, for how could any one sup_vore
that there was any danger inchanging the notes?
how could an one
the bottom 0 the o d well up arently buried rom
sight until the lust trump shou d sound on the Judg-
ment Day, had left a dying declaration behind him
and that fate would decree that it should be preserv-
cd in this wonderful manner for so long a time m:
then finally brought to sight? If the assing of the
notes is proved the case is almost hope ess. And the
Italian knife of Lucca—or a knife exactly similar to
the one commonly carried by him, and the very
counterpart of the knife Pound upon his erson when
arrested—this peculiarly-shaped knife ound slick-
ing in the mud in the midst of" the bones of the dead

man. «

“ What madness is it that alwa “s ssess\es a crim-
inal to retain the weapon with w 10 l a foul deed has
been done, so that upon his arrest it will rise up in
evidence against him, or else leaner; ltin the body of
his victim, so as to bring the crime hOme to him,
iriizstead of carrying it away and secureh, uisoosing
o it?”

The riddle that the banker asked has never yet
been solved. although a thousand time : propounded
excepting by the supmsition that in nutr ed
Heaven in tome. manner confuses the senses of he
erring one so that weak human justice shall no.‘ be
alto ther battled.

“ he knife will make it go hard for Lucca, f. am.

(1," i'anriei'rmil mused. “Whatlawvercanexw
plain tnr'u away?

"The police are in search of the broker, Pe ,
and there are some other stran e developments 1]
this mysterious case which will e received with as-
tonishment by the public when the time comes for
publication, which at resent, for certain prudential
reasons, cannot be,” 10 continued, Ending the ac-
count slowly and distinctly.

“Now, what does that mean?” he asked, lacin
the pa )er upon his knee and gazing with nit
brows nto the fire.

“ Percy will take care of himself having been thus
warned, no doubt,” he mutte , “but the other
statement—is it truth or the mere romancing of a
news per reporter?” _

A creet t2?) at the door interrupted the solitary
meditations o the banker, who, seemingly, took a
wonderful interest in this criminal case.

A servant entered in obedience to the banker's
mmde and presented a large card upon a silver
,salver.

“ A man insists u n seeing you, sir.” he said.

“ James J ones, is of Texas," was inscribed upon
the card in sprawling letters, and‘iturning it over,
upon the other side was a jack of ubs.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
m comm mo: TEXAS.

Tm: card brought by the servant was simp a
white-backed playing-«card, upon the back of w oh
the stranger had inscribed his name.

Vanderwolf looked at the servant in astonish-
ment.

“ at does this mean i” he asked.

“A very rough-looking man at the door, slr' he
insists upon seeing you, and when Julius told in
that he was not sure whether you were home or not
and asked him to leave his card, thinking to at rid
of him in that way, he pulled out a k of p a ng-
cards and wrote his name on the bee of one of em,
saying that he ‘ reckoned ’ that would answer; he
further said that if you were in on would sure
to sex! him, for you and he were 0 (1 friends."

“ Old friends!” exclaimed the banker, evident

uzzled, and again readi the name on the

his time aloud: “James ones! I don’t remember
to have ever met any one by that name. What sort
of a fellow is he?"

“ A tall big man. rougth Mflth long dark
hair hangln way down upon his I oulders, and a
big broad- rimmed but' a. wild -looklng fellow;
looks like the pictures of the moat: that they have in
the newspapers."

“Well, I don't understand it, Thomas," Vander-
wolf mused. “ I don‘t know any such man. Did he
wish to see me in person?"

“ 0h es, sir; he said that he had important busi-
nem wltékyou, and that, being an old swuntance,

on we be do hted to seehlm. ousee sir,
tha the man was determined to

ullu find
come call tom tha nedtobo g
thmséhthe entry jugt at mine, and I We

him self."

“flows trick to get with him, I pro-
sume." the banker remar " and this rather novel
visiting card was designed excite my

Some beg errand, of course, but you can send
the fellowgllli‘lt will be the easiest way to get rid of

him; and b the we. on and Julius mayo- well
keep withinycall; theié'i a? tellln  tricks these
, now

leggerate rascals are up
6 servant nodded and withdrew.

This was the butler, byname Thomas BroooH
quiet, silent man with a shrewd, cunning fm
banker’s confidential servant; he had formerly

a clerk in the down-town omen.

Vanderwolf wheeled his chair around. away from
the fire, so as to be reputed to receive his visitor;l
although he lmagin that a very few words woul
dismiss the stran or.

In common wit every man supposed to be pos-
sessed of wealth, he was subject to re ruhir attacks
from genteel be ars, who merely wished I. litte
tempera. aid, an modest children of enius, who
had wonclil'arful schemes by means of w ich untold
wealth could be gained, and who only needed a few
hundred or a few thousand dollars, as the cue
mi ht be, to set the thing in motion; and as Tenn-
.n‘i rule, the more visionary and lmpracllcsb the

 

ess that this fellow, rottin ' tt

 

scheme, the more sanguine and certain the inventor,
and the larger the amount of capital demanded.
The butler admitted the stranger-a tall, broad-
shouldered man dressed roughly, as he had been
described—long hair chin covered with a stubb
beard, and a eneral appearance strongly sugges
ing the cat tle— rovers 0 be far South-west.
‘ ‘Mr. Vanderwolf sir," said the servant as ho
ushered the man into the room, and then withdrew,
gigging care, however, not to close the door after

The stra removed his broad-brimmed hat,
displaying a , lion-like head, and nodded famili-
arly to the er.

How are you?” he said, in a rough, hoarse voice.
“ It‘s a lo time since we met, and I reckon from
the looks 0 things about this hyer shanty, that you
must have made a. heap of monely.”

Vanderwolf had surveyed t e stranger closely
u \ \n his entrance, but there were no signs of recog-
nil ran 11 his face. If he knew the man he did not
betréy i

" es, sir, I think it is alon time since we met,”
the banker re lied, uietly, “ or, to the best of my
lliiiowledge an belie , I never saw you before in my

6

“.You never saw me before?” cried the man, ap-
parently very much astonished.
“No sir ”

“ Why what a bad memory you must havel"
“ No, ri you are quite mistaken there; I have a

most excellent memoryl” exclaimed Vanderwolf,

decidedly.
“ And on don‘t remember me?"
“ No, alt, I do not 1"

“ Well, mebbe I’ve changed a. little. You see, I’ve
been down in Texas ever since we ported, and have
roughed it pretty well, and life on the frontier ain‘t
apt to improve a man’s personal 9. pearance. I
reckon that I ham changed a. good cal, and then,

wearing my hair long alters me some; but mm
aln changed a bit; you re the same old sixpencel
Why I would have know’d you anywhere. I know‘d
you today the minute I saw you down town, and I
said to a man who was passing—one of your kid-
Eloved chaps, ‘ Do you know Vanderwolf, the

roknrf aint that him?‘ And he did happen to
know you and he said, ‘ Yes, that‘s his name;‘ and
then I looked in a Direct» and found out where
you so I concluded tha I ought to call up and
sgg t u q-night, so that we coul have a talk over
0 es:

“ Sir, on are labo under a t mistake,"
the r junta ttlclmgen .“Ias-
sure you that am morally co in we ave never
met before. I have an excellent memory for

should be sure to remember youifwo
over me "

“Oh, but It was such a long time ago, it ain‘t u-
tonishing that you should forget me.”

“ You are mistaken, sir, I repaint."
newly years," amongst-persisted,

There was a liar movement of Vandorwolf's
eyes. as he fix them intently upon the face of the
mambut be and that thou-owns no changointbo
expression 0 his face.

Sixteen ear-sf"

“Yoga about; you didn‘t live hora than; you
had a lit 9 once down in Wall mot."

" That is very true, sir."

“ And that is where I made your acquaintance.”

“Impossible, sirl Yornrolnemragain, Iii-sure

l

“ Oh, no, I ain't!" the man exclaimed “I‘m just
as certain of you as I can be; why, Victor, old port
nor, I'd know (1 cu anywhere!"

A look of p ound astonishment
banker's
near a minu

“ r, Victor!" he cxclalm

“ Yep, that‘s your name, ain't it! Victor Vander-

“ Oh, no: I ve now the mistake under which
cum lobo . My name is Leopold—Leopold
andsrwolf; Vic is my younger brother."

“ Show Period the manger in out.

“Yes, sir, my or brother; there was a

wonderful resemb tween us; and when we
carried on bunnies together we always made it a

gintto dress differently and wore our hair in a:

fferentfeshio sothatwocould botoldspnrt”,
“le recollect; be always wore bk hairlong,

like I do now. "
d I!

“Y r.
“tarmvery .Ilr,tlntltooktho liberty
to in 0 upon you," a man sol commencing to

back the door, “and I that ou’ll ex-
cuse me. I ver thou ht about my old 5i o—put-ner
ha abro er; I‘d can forgotten that, and when
I'spl yoi'i. to-doyJIaldtomylelf. theresmymut-

to
mac apologies, sir; thomlstako wunatu-

“But where is Victor llbwf" asked the
m . dgfiwlthhishlsdyontbedmknob.

«mar... 

“Deed? You don‘t lay sol"

“Yea-tr; hodlodlnnuropoabouttonyears

w."

Show! W Iwould have glvonododtohave

mu him olives: We used to have some high old
a 0

Yes
“(ginlbotyoul Victorwuoneoftbo boys, he

“I believe m brother was a little wild some few

mu before u I deatlhbut really I know but little of

glut: pursuits, though we were partners in
ens.

bus

“Well sir, I‘m right sorry to know that he's
‘ passedhls checks in.’ I always reckoned that I‘d
“cash up ' first; good-night, sir. ’

The man bowed and quittod the room, and in the
entry he found the negro, Julius. awaiting him, and
he was escorted to the front door.

The moment the siren or left the apartment, the
nigger sprung to his set, evidently deeply agi-

“What does this mean!" he murmured. “This
fellow lies when he so s that sixteen years ago he
was acquainted with ictor. There is some deep-
laid scheme afoot and I scent do or in the air. I
gust of". bloodhound on the tr. torus thlsfox

~.,., . n .f-v

 

CHAPTER XV.
A was DECLARATION.

Tun Bohemian looked at the girl with a strange
glance; his face was quite pale, and he seemed as a
man would seem who had been dazed by a sudden,
uneiéplected and heavy blow.

“ bert Barlee,” he said, in a strange mechani-
cal sort of way his voice sounding harsh and un-
natural even to llS own ears.

"Ye Gilbert Barlee, who died, a convict sen-
tenced or life, in the State Prison only a. few days

0. ’

“I think that I remember the name; be death
was reported in the newspapers, was it not?"

For answer the girl drew forth her little shabby
pocllieltz-btczgotlrlE Opened it, and from Olfiehofsfihg inner
poces anewsa rscra w c e ended
to the Bohemian. p pa p’

Percéaflected to read it nttentivel
the let rs danced before his eyes e a legion of
little black imps, and not a si la word could he dis-
ti lab, but what of that? B 'ndfolded and in the
dar est night he could have repeated the statement,
word for word, for every line was graven on the tab-
lets of his memory as firmltv as though imprinted
there with the engraver’s too .

“ I think that I read this account when it first ap-

ared,"he said, at le “It was two or three

‘ys ago, was it not i” -

Yes '

“And what was this man to you that you take
such an interest in establishing his innocence, now
that he is dead and gone 1'" Percy naturally asked.

“ I cannot answer that uestion."

“ Cannot answer it?
not?"

Tile girl inclined her head silently in token of as
se

11 .
“You must hold him in very dear remembrance
if on are willing to sell yourself to any man who
furnish you with a sum large enough to make
successful this strange attempt upon which you
have seemed to set your heart.’
i‘ifif’sflt 313‘ “3”” We?" him”
0 men came 0v r .
“ You never saw him?" 6 my 5 me

but in reality

on mean that you will

“ Never!"

“ What strange mystery is this?" he exclaimed.
in wonder.

“ It is a myste , and I cannot explain it.”

“ And ou wo d sell yourself, bodily to the man

in

who we (1 place twenty thousand dollarslnslay,
{our hand so that you could attempt this
lthfik!” bl " th 1

‘ possi of e r cried nick "‘wh do
you say it is impossiblegil” ’ q ly’ y

“ Why, I was merely guessing at the facts of the
case, from what I know of it from this little news—

per item, that is all. Of course I know no

urther; how could I? This newspaper statement
assume to be correct; the man was legally convicted,
no doubt of his guilt, and like a great many other
criminals his assertions that he was an innocent
man and had been um condemned were persist~
ed in so long that he came to believe they
were truth instead of the mere coinage of his own
inv‘egtlve brain."h t h

‘ ou think t s 9 spoke falsely?" Adalia ex.
claimed, her large clear e es full u
‘s ism 3° at“. b y p” "m

9 ug , ut it'was lain that he was
not as easy in his mind as he wished to appeartobo.

“ What other decision can I arrive at with this
statement in m mind?” he re lied. " I have visited
during my r0 essional trave s, quite a number 0
prisons, an in my conversations with the inmates I
cannot recall a. single instance in which each and
every felon did not protest that he was an innocent
man, the victim of a terrible con iracy, and most
Pfimllilagei’hmedmoifanui'h "berm f t Ehmfalhem 0”

ry e o c charge 0 su s
nopfitfintlon tfiikitlat ,all." p t! m

‘ very e y,’ the rl observed, though u ;
“ and when the unfortugafe wretch condemned y
a cruel fate to an n ust imprisonment tells his sad
and truthful Ito , deride it as a fable.”

The brows of t o Bohemian knitted for amoment.
Argument seemingly was wasted upon this obstinate
' fl‘.

“But, my dear Miss Adalia, wh do on believe
the story of the unfortunate man be ruth. When

: alluthe evidence is to the contrary?" he asked.

I know that it is true!"

“ You know it?” and the face of the man fully ho
trnyed the astonishment he felt.

“ Yes, although it all took lace years ago when I
was but a child. I know Gilbert Barlee was the
victim of a. terrible conspirac —that he was hunted
down to his living grave wit the cold walls of the
State Prison by a rich and unscrupulous foe, and it
is in life task to right the wrong—to lift the cloud
of ame from the name of the innocent and to
bring home to the doer of the deed the punishment
the crime demands."

Like an inspired tparaphetcss the Eirl a. peered u,
in her excitement, e words came e from her

ll

glehe Bohemian laughed, not a me cheerful
laugh, but an affected and enforced one bod lit-
tle of leein it.

“ y, whatnvery Joan of Arc expedition you
have taken upon your slender shoulders! he or

b 2%“ “033.3%,”‘6‘ “‘2 flag‘nfiimgu
u s a on w n s rong n -
lant warriors and subtlle nests alike failed to rid
her country of the foreign oei

" And so, there can never be an
heart except for the man rich enougl
tune in your hand, and weak enoug to let on wear-
your life out in pursuit of avague and unsulmantlal

love in your
to place a for-

phan

“Ifwitb the ving umf my young life—and the
world is so brig t and utlful, too—I ,could grasp
success. ladly-free , would Iyleld ltl cried Ada.
quick y, her e ace glowing with enthusiasm.
ercy survey her for a moment in silence, a
uliar look in his shifting gray 0 es. Strange
houghts were in his mind—4 oughts t if framed.
into words would have made the girl fly in horror

from his side.
“You are an odd girl,“ he declared, at last, after
9 very long pause. ‘It is very strange that such an
idea as this which you have Just revealed should

 

 

 

 

 

have taken such a hold u n you. At your age
young ladies are generally reaming of some dash-
ing Romeo of a lover, and hope is wh spering soft
flatteries in their ears. ‘

“It is not so with me; Ithink—Idream only of
one thing."

“It is a fooli hopeless task: you will only wear
out your life in t e attempt just as the imprisoned
wild bird beats out his existence fluttering against
the bars of his prison-house.”

“I thank you for our kind advice," the girl re-
plied, “but t is use ess; my mind is made up and
nothm can changcit."

“ Bu if in time you learn that the attempt is hope-

’7‘

“While I live I shall never come to that conclu-
sio I am sure!" she said confidently.

“ Veil, that remains to be seen; time alone can do
cide that," he returned, lightly, a parently regain—
ing his former light 8 ints, which ad been strange-
iy affected by the gir s declaration.

“ How soon will you require the rose i" she asked,
turning the conversation.

“ Oh, two or three days; there isn‘t any hurry
about it."

“ I can have it for on tomorrow."

“ To-morrow will 0,“ he replied, rising. “Good-

htl” and then he passed from the apartment.

e proceeded to his own room, his brow dark and
an annoyed look upon his face, took his hat and went
down-stairs into the street.

“ This is about the strangest thing that I ever heard
ofl" he muttered, as he walked up the avenue.
“Who could have put the crazy idea into the . his
head, and what relationshi does she bear to G bert
Barlee? That fellow de is likely to .make more
trouble than he ever did when he was livmg. The girl
cannotbe his daughter, altho: h she is not too old,
for he was never married. 0, of course not; he
could not have been married or else he would never
have dared to woo Avala‘s daughter in the old, old
time. Who then is she? There is something famil-
iar about her featureS' she does resemble Barlee
xtrongly; but she recalls to me recollections of an-
other face —but whose? Ah! there my memory is at
fault ' time perhaps will reveal that m stery.
Twenty thousand dollars!" he murmured, re ective-

lrv. “A lar esum; is she worth that to me? Shall
give her e twent thousand and then let her ro-
ceed upon her task, myself controlling the air?

Ahi that would not be a bad id but is it worth the
money! that’s the question an a m'fihty ditlicult
one to answer. I must reflect over t e matter.
am sailing on an uncertain and dangerous sea and I
must be careful how I shamy course or else some
hidden reef will wreck m k and give me to the
mercy of an avenging fa . '
His meditations were suddenly interrupted by a
hoe hand laid upon his shoulder and a hoarse voice

cri .
“ y, Victor Vanderwolf, you‘re the very man I
wantl"

 

CHAPTER XVI.
A Damon]: OPERATION.

"Yns, yes ” the banker continued, “this fellow
must be tracked at once; there is mischief afloat or
I '1‘oatly mistake in man."

0 touched the ' ver call-bell upon the table and
the confidential servant, who was close at hand, re-

sponded immediately.

“That fellow, Broce he must be watched 1" Van-
derwolf exclaimed. “ on take charge of the affair;
do not trust to any one else; it is very im rtant.
Follow him at once; do not lose sight of h in until
you find out where he is sto ping, then cautiously
make inquiries in regard to w ohe is, where be c me
from, his b ess in the clay in short, discover all
you can in regard to him an et me know as soon as
poshsiblc. Hurry away at once before he gets out of

t“!
uq‘All right, sir: I‘ll find out all about him, never
fear!" Brocet answered at on and then he hu. -
ried into the hall, seized his hat, ut, instead of go-
ing out b the main door he ran down-stairs and
proceed to the street by the basement entrance.

And when he was fairly in the street he looked up
and down in search of the stranger’s form.

Half-way down the street he ived the man,
aauntcring slowly along, eviden in not the least

hu .

13m not take the astute Mr. Brocet long to decide
upon his plan of operations. He crossed the street
immediately and upon the opposite sidewalk pro-
ceeded to dog the man‘s footsteps.

An easy task this and with no danger of discovery
attending it. for the man went str ht on, never
turni either to the right 01' left. dently, he
had no the slightest suspicion that he was likely to
be spied upon. .

At the first cross-street the man turned to the left
and weht down toward Third avenue, and Brocet.
still kcepin upon the opposite Side of the way, fol-
lowed carefully behind. .

The sp '3 idea was that at Third avenue the man
would to. e acar for down-town, but when the avenue
was reached, the stranger crossed it, without even
glancing up or down, and kept st ht on.

“ lie has his den close at hand," rocet murmur-
ed, “or else he has discovered that he is being fol-
lowed and is going to twist and turn about so as to
throw me oi! the track.“

But that idea seemed incredib for the man had
never even glanced behind since eavi the house,
and it appeared to be clearly impossi le that he
couldIleigve discovered that his footsteps were being
watc .

‘ The street by the river‘s side was reached at last;
the man halted for a moment beneath the street
lamp on the corner and consulted his watch; then
he looked up and down, but never behind him.

"Aha," muttered Brocet, who had improved the
opportunity to glide into aconvenient door-stoop,
“as 0 ts some one; he has made an appoint-
ment, evidently."

he s t was a lonely one, hardly a soul passing

and as to night was quite dark, it seemed wull titted

for a meeting-place for evil-minded men.

A few minutes the stranger remained motionless
upon the corner, then he looked at his watch again,
repeated his earnest, prying look up and down
2mm, getting im tient, and then, as if tired of

alt ng e creased he street and marched out upon
the clock that prcjceid i..‘.o t'_.: raver.

 

3‘ 0315353317

 

9

 

 

For a moment Brocet was nonplused by this unex-
pected movement.

“ He is going to meet some. one on the dock, and I
must be a witness to that lllL‘L‘llll I“ he cried.

The tall form of the man had disappeared in the
gloom, which, like an inky pail hung thick and heavy
over the pier.

Brocet had determined to follow, but it was a

risky undertaki to cross the street ex to the

glare of the gas ht, and most certai y discovery

was certain if the man chanced to look hind him.
But, the spy was e ual to the occasion. Proceed-

ing down the cross-s reet to the corner, he hurried
up the sidewalk of the river avenue for about
half a block, then skulked across the street and
came back on the other side until he reached the
entrance to the dock up which the stranger had
proceeded.

Sharp were the eyes of the spy, but so dense was
the gloom over the surface of t 1e river that he was
unab e to see half-way up the pier, and the stranger
was nowhere in sight.

“It will not do to remain here," he murmured,
“ because I will surely be discovered by the man
who is coming to meet this fellow. I‘ll steal up the
pier a little wa 's and see if I can find a hiding- lace.
At any rate can lay down alongside of the 5 ring-
prece, and if I am noticed the chances are a hundred
to one that the will t the me for some drunken
fellow sleeping o the effects of a carouse."

The .spy at once proceeded to put this plan into
operation. Stealing cautiously along, almost bent
double so as to avoid discovery, he got about half-
way up the pier when he came to a lot of old lumber
piled up on one side of the dock.

“ This will do capitally for the present,” he the ht;
“ I'll just sneak down b the side of this an lay
low until I discover what become of my bird."

Brocet stole cautiously around the obstruction,
intent upon finding a an corner, when all of a sud-
den a dark form s rung v olently upon him.
thng. brawny, newy hands griped him by the

we

The spy was a strong man, but he was as helpless
as an in ant in the powerful grasp of the unknown
foe, who had taken him at such a fearful disad

e.

rocet st gled with all his wer; he attem ted
to cry out, bu the iron gripe wplilch compressed) his
wind ipe choked all utterance.

Wi h a skillful twist the unknown threw the spy to
the floor of the dock, not for an instant relaxing the
tcgihble 1folr‘npressipfn upon the thgoat.h d

ecoin,su ocain man ougt rate]
but ‘twas all fir vain; the finknown assailant seemeyd
to be possessed of a t‘s strength.

More and more fee le ew Brocet‘s st lee; he
began to turn black in t 0 face, and then the un-
known who had pinioned him so securely to the
earth, suddenly re eased him, whipped out a thick
cloth from his pocket bound it over the mouth of
the spy, and then d tly snapped a pair of hand-
cuffs on his wrists.

Too feeble to oifer successful resistance, and yet
not so thoroughl choked as to be incagble of know-
ing what was go ng on, the spy was lpiess in the
power of the enemy.

With a strength that was real] wonderful the
man tossed Brocet upon his shoul or as though he
wferleebuit a school-boy, and hurried down to the end
0 t p er.

B the side of the dock a pair of steps led down
to e water, and a boat was up and down
u n the throbb waves.

e assailant eposited the astonished and in-
censed spy in the stern of the boat cast off the rope
which attached it to the ier, too u the oars, and
with a few vigorous dips s ot the lig t craft far out
upon the inky surface of the tide.

As we have said, the night was dark and the few
lights along the docks merely like glimmer-
in stars in the distance.

' 1e river was deserted; not a single craft was cut-
ting its way throu h the darkness of the night, but
as the effects of t e terrible chairing which the y
had received passed slow away, and his eyesxge-
came accustomed to the so that he could
examine the person of the man who had so success-
brigi assaulted him, he found, as he had
to d from the moment when he had first elt the
iron pe of the unknown upon his throat, that it
was t e stranger whom he had followed.

Toolate he realized that he had been ledintoa
trap; but now his wonder was—wh had the man
talfien the troulbéedtfilsecureth st‘him so actually.

ever a wo e r or until the
were about in the center of thggstreamwand then h:
suddenly ceased rowing, and addressing the spy,

said:
“ N ow I want a little information out of you."

CHAPTER XVII.
caosl quas'rrosrxo.

Druwmo in the oarshthe man bent forward and
removed the heavy clot from the mouth of Brocet.

Despite the knowledge that he was no match for
the stranger, even if he had the free use of his arms
mstead 0 being so securely hampered b the hand-
cuffs, Brocet a tempted to rise but th a si la
gressure of his powerful hand the man forced

0WD.

“Keep quiet!” he cried sternly “unless ou want
me to make you .food for the fishes! IfyI should
pitch oérbc‘oault of tar; boat, handlfli‘iiifgg as you are, it
wo o ore ou wo
“than; “8 1 y m. d i...” “y w

coo nerves, B t shive
death would indeed be a horrible one,and he 
sense enough to know that he was hel ens in the
war of e man who had captured so skill-

““in. mg.
“ at do you mean by this on i" Brocet
cried indignantlgéputting on a bold face, although
he felt far from mg easy in his mind.

“ You walked righ into the trap didn’t out“ said
the strang)er,Puietly. “I had an idea hat I was

' to e allowed although I never took the
rotu” to look around to see whether it was so or
no

“You shall answer to the law for this on i"
Brocet blustered. We

“ Oh, don’t you bother about the law; mebbo you'll
get nil the law you want be.” re you die.“

" What do you mean by this assault i"

van-

 

“ Why, I want to have a nice quiet talk with you,"
the Texan replied. ” And a tter spot than this
couldn’t be found in, or around this big city. And
then, too, if 1 find you ugly an not disposed to an-
swer my uestions, all I've got to do is to drop you
overboa , and you‘ll go to the bottom pretty soon,
with those handcuffs on, unless you‘re a better
swimmer than the ma'ority of men are.“

“ You wouldn‘t mur er me!" Brocet cried.

“ No, not if you answer my questions but if you're
inclined to be ugly, you Will find that I can be ugly.
too: and I‘ve got 'ou in a fix here so that I can knock
you on the head I take a mind to do it, and toss you
overboard without an body bein the wiser."

Brocet felt t e cold sh vcrs creeping over
him: this man seemed as implacable asfate.

“Well, what is it that you wish to know?"

“ Oh, quite a number of thingsi In the first placq
who set you on to tracking me tonight?"
“No one," re lied Brocet, promptly.

“ That‘s a lie. ’ the Texan cried.

“No it ain’t!" replied Brocet, earnestly.
heard our conversation to-night with my master
and I ollowed you, intendin to Over-take you an
see if I couldn‘t sell you a litt e information."

“ Well, you did overtake me, but not exactly in
the way you expected, “the man remarked, dryly.
“ What information can you give me?"

“ About Victor Vanderwolf."

“ Ahi that is exactly what I was going toask you;
henis alive, isn’t he?"

“ No?" and the Texan was evidently disappointed.

“ No. he is dead.”

“‘ Yes, so the other one said but I don’t believe it;
but if he is really dead—that is, if you believe he is,
ghat information in regard to him was you going to

ve me?

"I wasn‘t going to give it," re nded Brocet,
sulkrv'ly. “ I was gel to ctfer to sel it to igu.”

“ ell, I reckon tha we won‘t quarrel a ut that
now; spit out your story' if it is worth anything to
me you shall be paid, an liberally, too.”

“ Oh it‘s only about Victor‘s death—the ear and

“ I over-

where he died; but if you don‘t believe t t he is
dead, of course you won‘t care to hear it."
" ho, if he is really dead—which sto I don’t be-

lieve at all—it doesn’t matter to me w ere he died
or when."
“ What else do you want to know?"
“‘ I}? LEE-pold Vandenvolf married?"
I o .9!
“ Ra's he ever been married?"
“ No, sir not that I ever knew.”
h “ Do?e’s dalena Avala reside in your masts-’-
ouse ‘
Brocet answered in the amrmative, but looked as-
tonished at the question.
“ Is she not Leo id Vanderwolf's wife?"

"Oh, no, she’s housekeeper.” Brocet was den
cidedly amazed at this when.
“ Magdalena Ayala is pold Vanderwolfs house-

kee r. eh?" the stranger muttered, eviden up
shaggy t2; statement. uy p -

“How long is it dnce you saw Victor Vander-

wolf?" sake the Texan, abru t returning again
to the former subject. p I”

“No sir; hehad gone away before! entered Hr.
Id‘s service."
‘ you know anything of this Victor by repute.

“ Not much." ‘

“ He was pretty w wasn‘t he?"

“Yes, I believe so,’ answered Brocet, who was
somewhat surprised at such uestions from a man
who had rofessed tobe an timate friend of the
person a at whom he was so curious, for, be it re-
mem Brocet, waiting outside in the h in
obedience deerwolf’s orders, had Over all
the conversation between his master and the

2 well, pow, Ira—what‘s your name!"
“Ah, Brocet; well, Mr. Brocet. I want to make a
little arrangement with you. Iwant a confidential
m in the house of Mr. Leo id Vanderwolf and I
on will answer. I evegd after my eon-
versa on with Vanderwo I would be followed: for
I had a shrewd suspicion t inquiries after Victor
Vanderwolf would excite a deal of interest and so
in advance I pre this little tra into which on
have fallen. Now, you‘re a shrew cunning); ow
and Igvant you to save me, and you shall well
00 H

“ ou want to hire me to betray my master?"
asked the outwitted spy, in a sullen tone, and yet at
the v same time. he was close] calculating in his
Own $3“: the advantages that in ght come to him if
he accepted the offer and the chances of his treach-
9 being discovered handcrumlf.

‘ Oh, no, that ain‘t way to put it!” the Texan

I have nothing to do with Leopold
Vanderwolf; my business is with Victor. I have the
fit of. reasons for thinking that he is not dead, but

ve

“Alive!” cried Brocet, astok nished at the positive

e.

" Yea. not alive bgoin New York and in close
wmmunkntfirbwith hh brother Leopold, or. if not
with him, with thiswornan Magdalena Avala."

d “332, ,1: may be so." Iirooet admitted, “but I
on ‘

“ I don’t," the Tenn fluid “but don‘t
you think that you are enoug ' to find out
wh‘elther it islso or :0: ii:

‘ Im. II ‘shard to against theman
whohas wa . paid me well." so

“ It has no to do with him, unless he is shield:
ing his brother: and then, too, how long would this
Vanderon keep you if you ere not useful to him?
Why, he (1 kick yen out to-m wi"

‘1 Yerhrr. he lwould. "

‘ ou now re would! I’m offeri 8 d
thing, very little trouble and plenty of mom; tom“

u ow much i" asked Brocet, terse .

Now you’re coming down to usiness," the
s'trange arked. “Give me certain proof that

r rem

ictor Vanderwolf is alive and I‘ll h ndnel
dollars; and out for me where he {Sp—‘gnadell'l vh. ‘r
name he is hiding—so that I can put
him and I‘ll give you another I:

“W

 

 
   
 

 

 

1}.)

<-—,~-

oe PHénix.

 

 

 

“ What do you want him for?" asked Brocet, ab-

ruptllfiéastonished at these liberal offers.
t's my business," replied the other, “ and it

has nothing to do with you. ' "

“ And sup so I refuse f" questioned Brocet, in
a dogged sor of way.

“ en, young man, I shall make it m business to
figt you into a fix, so that you‘ll stan a chance of

mg railroaded into the State prison unless you do

iddingi” the stranger re lied, coolly.

‘ Why w o are you ?’ aske the other, amazed.
“ A police a y " answered the man, throwing open
ais coat, an owing a small silver star pinned

ereon.
“Well, I‘ll do in best for on," Brocet cried,
igkly, making up ‘ mind to ry for the two hun-

I]

“And even if you don’t succeed you shall have
somethin for our trouble. A line addressed to J.
Phenix, olice eadquarters, Mulberry street, will
reach me at any time.”

The police spy had scored a hit this time and no
mistake.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
A CUNNING rnrcx.
Tan Bohemian turned and confronted the man,
who had so strangely accosted him, in haughty sur-

prise.

“ Did you speak to me, sir?" he exclaimed.

“ Of course,” the
Phenix still assuming the character of the Texan
cattl rever. “ How are you, Victor? Don’t you
remember me 7”

“ You are laboring under a mistake, sir, my name
is 51(1): Yictor.”

0 V

at No. min

“ Ain't you Victor Vanderwolf?"

“No, sir, I am not."

“ Oh, you're joking!”

“N°' “51‘ ambé‘ghl‘in“;
m evr en
plai y betrayir’ig it.

“ Do on mean to tell me that your name ain’t
Viicto’r’ anderwolf, and that you ain t an old pard of
in ne ‘

“Yes, sir, I do mean to tell you so; that is not my
name, and I never saw you before in my life, to the
best of my recollection.’

“ Well, what is Bur name, anyhow?”

“I think, sir, t t is my business, and not yours,
and as I‘m in something of a hurry, ou'll have to
excuse me,” and, acting on the word, he h
turned upon his heel and strode away.

Phenix watched him for a few minutes in silence,
a peculiar ' ht shining in his keen eyes.

‘ It is m ird, sure enough!” he muttered at last,
losing gig t 0L the Bohemian’s tall figure in the
crowd. ‘ No need to track him, for now that I know
who he is I can put in finger on him at any time.
At last I hold in m ands the key to the whole
mystery; this cool ental meeting has revealed
everything to me, and blind idiot that I am! I never

‘ rspected it before. A cunning trick, and yet so
simple; but what is he (10in this quarter? What
game is he up to new! We , time will reveal that.
r or the present I must let mi rivate wrongs rest
until I have completed this pu c business.”

Crossing over to Fourth avenue, the spy took a
car for down-town, and alightod at that loomy
pile in Center street, known popularly as the ombs.

Presenting a card, he was at once admitted into
the building and cond to the cell where the
Frenchman, Louis Gironde, meditated upon the ups
and downs of this uncertain world.

The li ht from the corridor illuminated the cell
quite b htl , but keen-eyed as was the cute son of
modern aufi he did not recognise the cpolice spy in
his so although he scanned him osely.

“A tor, Louis,” said the keeper, ushering the
man into the cell and then withdrawing and locking
the door carefully behind him.

The spg waited until the keeper was fairly out of

an

i" exclaimed the Babe
lose his temper, and

sight hearing,l and then he made su
mysterious signs; tll‘ronch Louis only stared at
him in astonishment—astonishment a little too

strongto be real.
The signs finished, the spy looked inquirineg at

the “fined-o tt" ried the wily rascal,
‘ wan c
roughly; “Ido’roigt know ul"

“ come fromtheoa ”

“Whatca taint”

ptain k."
“ a n Shark! and who is he?”

“ ydoyounotanswerthesignsi I am:
brother.“ ,

“A brother—brother what?"

“ What‘s the matter with your—are you crazy?"

“No, man Dicu/ but I think you must be, with
your rubbish about the cfirtain and those signs,
whatever they mean!” the enchman retorted.

“See,” and again the spy made the signs.

“ Bah, bah," cried the prisoner, “I know not what
you mean!” -
. “The captain wants to know if you want any

n 1!

“Tools?”

“Y see,” and the spy lifted up one foot and in
a very extrous manner unscrewed the heavy boot.
heel and took it on; it was hollow and contained
some tin little saws, a ointed file, a little bottle
of oil an small piece 0 black putty. The saws
and file were to cut the irons, the oil to lubricate,
and the black puttyto fill up the cracks so asto
prevent discovery in case of an examination, not too
(310.62 a fri dI eed fth things!”

“ no, m on In none 0 see
the B‘renchmzn exclaimed; “ I am an innocent man
and on my trial the truth will come out. You,can-
not sell these toys." But, even as he
spoke, the little, sharp e of the “cracksman”
g ootod over;l the d to meets, the finest kit

a.

“T1! heg‘dovt mth ti tth
ere no 0 ; eca arisen, cm."
The Fmachmahr‘lngad fig a mindpto accept, but he
feared a vague memenger was a stranger and he
disti'uged . of d

“ ow nothing our captain an 11 are -
ing a trap for me, butyit won t wdrk, m?)me
am too old a bird to be caught by chaff!

lice spy replied, for it was Joe ,1

 

“All ht; on can do as on please"and the
op! flagged 0% the boobhool aygaln. '

 

Hardly had he performed the task when the keep-
er lpassed along the corridor and looked into the
ca

“ Come, hurry up! You mustn’t stay long!” he
said “it’s time you were out of this; it’s against
all t e rules, anyway, to have you here, at this hour.”

“ I came to see this gentleman Egon important
business, and so an exception was m e in my favor,
but Iam readyto go now unless Mr. Gironde has
something more to say,” and the spy turned to the
Frenchman.

The prisoner understood that this was his last
chance but he was too wil a rogue to be can ht in
the skillfully-laid trap an he only shook his cad,
so the y departed.

Then e was conducted to the cell occupied by the
Italian, Lucca. Care had been taken to place the
confederates in different tiers.

We will not weary the reader with the details of
the interview, for the second attempt was but a re-
petition of the first and equally as unsuccessful.

Firmly the Italian refused to answer the signs and
denied all knowledge of the “ ca tain.”

The clever device of the ce authorities had
failed; the prisoners were no to be tricked into be
traying the eader who stood in the background and
planned the evil schemes.

The experiment was not tried upon the woman,
for lin the beginning it was decided that it would be
use ess.

During the brief intervals which elapsed between
the arrest of the prisoners and their trial which was

ed forward with all ossible s , the entire
machinery of the police epartment was put into
operation to secure the arrest of the broker, Percy,
who was mentioned in the dying declaration of the
murdered Bullcastor but the search was in vain.
All that could be discovered was that some years
ago there had been a fellow, not exactly abroker,
but what is commonly termed a curbostone opera-
tor, a man who carried his office in his hat, as the
saying is, by the name of Percy, known in Wall
street. But the man had utterly disappeared and
left no trace behind him. And the lice, in spite of
their most persistent inquiry, coul not even obtain
a description of the “ operator."

One account said that he was short and fat with
light hair; another declared that he was and
t n and with black hair; a third said that he was
neither short nor tall, but betwixt and between the
two: some believed that he was old, and others that
he was a mere boy, and finally the officers giving the
matter up in d t came to a conclusion similar to
that regarding he wonderful Mrs. Harris in Dick-
ens's world-famous novel, that there wasn’t “ no

sich pusson."
In due time the risoners were laced on trial.
Jud Jefferson rgeWashi n Jobkins ap-

pea for the defense.

The Judge was a character. In the days when the
“ ri ’ ruled New York and made things lively for
the boys,” he had first been lalipolitical lawyer, a
strong ward leader of the unter ' ed—voters, whose
motto was “ vote early and vote often;” then he had
been elected udge and had presided over the Tombs
police-court or quite a long time.

He was the “terror of the evil-deer,” so the ever-
reliable daily newsgfilrs said, and a stran er hap-
pening to stroll in court would have n as-
tonished at the rapidit with which be disposed of
the petty cases brought fore him. He knew them
all, or at least retended he did-4t was about the
same; the culp ’s denial amo ‘ted to nothing, and
go way; he im thlet‘finels and 3am the poor,

noran wer ess—po ca y s ing—wretc res
to the ‘1 gonad " was a caution. pgut let one of the
“gang " be hauled up and the case was dififerent.

t despite the legal efforts of the judge and his
associate counsel, the two men were convicted, al-
tho h the Madame escaped, and were sentenced to
Bing-Eng

9

secret

was spy had struck his first blow, and the
d were staggered by its force.

CHAPTERXJX.
A norms sum: sun.

Jus'r about one month after the blue-rose episode,
as related in a dprevious chapter, the Be emian
knocked at the cor of the aging girl's room and
asked the favor of a few minu ’ conversation with

her.

Invitir¥ her visitor to enter she placed a chair for
filigrfi waited in curiosity to learn the purport of
“ yodear Miss Adaiia, I come on im rtant busi-
ness night,” he said “and I trust at you will
give me your earnest attention."

" Certainly, sir," she responded somewhat sur-
prised at the vity of his tone and manner.

The Bohem an hesitated for a few minutes before
he began, and as he surveyoed the girl thinking over
in his mind the best way deliver the proposition
which he had come expressluyl to nuke, he could not
help remarking how beaut 1 she was. Never be-

foretohise eshad she 11de solove .

“ Miss Adyalia, I hardly ow how to ," he
said at last, “ for what I have to say Will. I ear. be
totally hues-{octet} b you and probabl will take
you entirely y surprfse. You are a m charmin
young lady and since I have enjoyed the leasure o
flour aoquaintanceship, I have gradually earned to

ice you more and more.”

He paused in his h for a moment, and a
slight, beautiful blush began to creep up into the
face of the girl. She began to have an i ea of the
nature of the communication which was about to be
made to her, and gladly would she have avoided it if
she could have discovered any possible way of re-
treat, but she could not, and she felt that, perforce,
she must listen.

‘v‘gortune has fatvored me h at] of lam;I and the:

mecourage o e se m ps wou
ave been closed. M Adana, I have firms to ask
of you the greatest favor that a woman can give to a
man—gowns“. I love you and I wish to make you
m w e.

e girl cast down her eyes and her bosom heaved
tnmultuousl . It was a painful task to refuse even
a man for W cm she cared absolutely nothing, and
for a few moments she hesitated.

No hope, though, did the suing lover take, f be
was a keen reader of faces, and he look whic ap-
peared noon the flushed and confused face of the

 

 

irl told him only too well what the answer wouli
0: but he did not seem to be at all discouraged.

After quite a long pause Adalia lifted up her heal
and made reply.

“ I trust that you will excuse me Mr. Percy, if m
words give you pain,” she said, 5 owly; “but, as
explained to you some time ago, all my thou hts~-
all m energies are devoted to one purpose on y.”

“ es, I remember,” he re lied, takin advantage
of her pause to speak. ‘ And that idea is an!
strong within your mind—you have not given it up? ‘

“ No, I she] never give it up while I live!" sh!
exclaimed. “The purpose 15 as firmly rooted in my
heart as is the life which there exists, althou h I
fear the time is far distant when I shall set a ut
the task. Without money the attempt is hopeless;
and how can I, a sin le, helpless girl, he e to earn
the large sum neede ? I know enough 0 the wc H“
to understand that to successfully pursue my pun
fiese money must be spent like water, and now .

eaven h'elp me! it is as much asI can do to prc~
cure the means to sustain life. Oh! I think some-
times that I am mad to dream of measuring strengtl‘
with the powerful, cruel men that so foully wronget
the unfortunate victim who in the State prise: I
grieved his life away.”

“Why, then, not give up all ideas of such a diffi
cult and dangerous scheme? for if the facts of thvl
case are as you believe them to be, the men wht I
hunt ‘ the wretched criminal to his doom will bl
fully . :sperate and determined enough to remov» l
y’au from their (path if they discover that there it
any likelihood o succeeding in the attempt to bring!
them to ustice.”

“ Oh, think nothing of my own life!” the girl as-
serted. “Not fora single instant would .7 hesitatu
to sacrifice myself, rovided that I could succeed in
my task, and I shou d feel a holy, righteous joy 11 I
dying in such a good cause!”

in a glow was the face of the maid and her
beautiful egos sparkled with light until they out
shone the s can of diamonds.

“ You are an enthusiast!” Percy remarked, quiet
ly, but with his keen eyes fully alive to the rare
beauty of the sweet, irlish face, and every sense
on tivated by the subt e charm of her manner.

But I am only dreaming I fear,” she said, with a
sudden change of manner, her nervous excitement
giving way to despondency. “It will never be; With-
out a fortune at in back am helpless, and fortunes
are not to be had or the asking.”

“ Why not then accept the love I proffer?” the B0-
hemian questioned. ‘ Give 1] this visionary task,
cease from pursuing this life 0 tor], and find a refuge
from all cares with me. I do not ask you to say that

on love me; that will come in time; I am content

wait: your heart is free, so you assured me the

other da , and I am sure that if you give me the
chance can win it.”

“ Oh, no, no, I cannot!" Adalia replied, with down—
cast eyes.

“I am not repulsive to you?"

“Oh, no!" the oung woman answered, honestly,

“And perha s n time you might learn to love me
-—you know 0 no reason why you should not?“

‘ None."

" Why not accept then?"

“ No, it is impossible,” she answered, firmly, rais
lug her beautiful eyes to his face as she spoke
“ on have been kind to me, and I have too few
friends not to hi hly prize those which Heaven has
been kind enoug to give, but I feel that it would be
wrong to encoura e hopes that can never be realiz-
ed. t is rfigmssi le, and I he e that on will not
 unki y of me for spea ing thus onestly and
p n .’

It was a painful task, and the voice of the girl fal-
tered as she concluded.

“Ah, Isee the only man that can win on is the
lover who can lay a ortnne at your feet!” 8 banter-
ingly suggested. “You would not refuse then, eh?"

‘ t would be a terrible temptation,” she replied,
her whole manner troubled.

“ And you would not be able to resist it?"

“ I fear that I should not."

or Fear,”

“ Yes, for is it not a terrible thing for a woman to
sell herself?" she asked; “ and it would be a sale just
as much as though I was bid,off as the slaves used
to be at open auction.”

"No matter who the man is, so long as he had—-
let me see, what was the sum? twenty thousand dol-
lars, wasn t it?" -

“0h, why speak of it? It was a foolish speech;
such a thin can never be!" “

“ Ahal w o knows?" he replied la hing. The
most unlikely things happen somet mes n this world.
Come, let us understand the matter fully; for twenty
thousand dollars you would be willing to REP“ M
marry any man, no matter whetherhe was old or
ugly or missha n in face or form?”

‘ I fear that should not be able to resist the temp.
tation,” she confessed, her beautiful lips tightly
compressed '

“ 'ell, then behold in me the man, and see, here
is the money.’
The Bohemian drew a bank-book from one pocket,
a check-book from another and laid them on the
table side b side. '
Adalia 10371: at him with astonished em; she did
not com rehend his meaning. ’
“ Beefhere is an account opened for you with uni
National Union Bank to the extent of twenty thou
Build (Bikini: “hum. followed his finger as be
00 ca er e es ..
:ointed to theybook anyd read the inscription wnlen
ereon:
“National Union Bank
“ In account with’Adalla Cummerton.”

“But I do not understand," she said, opening her
large violet eyes wide in wonder.

‘ The story is soon told," he replied, with a gayfity
that was plainly affected, although the girl lathe m-
nocence of her heart never suspected :it. I Ilel

on at the commencement of this interview that for

une had been kind to me lately. By chance a mum
ago I came in possession of a letter '-tickct; bum t
it in fact of a poor wretch who said e was start-hit»:
and had nothin else to sell. I gave the man u ( «unit
for it, not that wanth it or c ted to profit by
it, but merely to get rid of the ellow. That in 1“in
drew a prirc of forty thmvsrnd dollars. and rim is 3'
use] make of the money is to buy the worst... 1 i; . - . '

 

 

 

>’~.—‘

i
i
4
l
l
)
4
'i‘
I

 

CHAPTER XX.
THE DECISION.

Tan r1 was terribly agitated. Never before in .
all her ' 0 had she been subjected to such a tempta- ,
tion.

She had spoken idly—foolishly when she had first
referred to the subject, and never, even in her wild-
est dreams, had she ima 'ned that such a miracle
could happen as the pro er of twmity thousand dol- I
lars for so poor a thing as her white hand. There-
fore she was totally unprepared for the otfer. She
knew not what to say, but blushing to the very
roots of her hair, she cost down her eyes in confu-
Lion.

The Bohemian watched her with the lance of a
lynx, a peculiar, hard expression upon his features;
he looked like anything but an anxrous, suing lover.

“ You do not answer," he said. at last, finding that
Adalia hesitated to speak. “ You repent of your
speech—you will not accept the money coupled with
myself." i

1‘ Ah but you are jesting with me!" she exclaim-
ed, suddenly, raising her beautiful eyes, which were
now moistened with tears, to the face of the man.
“This is but a mockery!” and she pointed to the ‘
bask books. “You remembered my foolish, heed-
less speech, and you wish to amuse yourself at my
ex .nse.’

Oh, no, I do not!” he protested. “ All that}
have said is sober, earnest truth. The money ism
the bank, subject to 'our crdcr. To—morrow you
can easily prove whet icr I am speakin falsely or
not by simply filling u ) one of the chec s and pre-
scnti it at the ban , first giving me your Signa-
ture, t ough, so that I can give it to the bank offl-
clals. "You will find that the draft will be cashed on
s' ht.

1% Itis so sudden—I know not what to do,” she
murmured, in‘csolutely, evidently wavering in her
mind. -

“Mind, I think that the pu se upon which on
have set your heart is a very oohsh one and
you will never succeed in accom lishing i , but that
is your’atfair,and.1 leave yon rec to act as you

lease.

p “I vowed long ago to devote my life to it!” she
declared, evidently ebating the matter over in her
mind.

The old adage says that the woman who hesitates
is lost, and most surely this young and charming
girl was hesitating. ,

“ Well, that is your business and not mine, and I
will not attempt to interfere, except to say that I
think the uest is a hopeless one, and that you Will',
not succ . I merely acce t the ofler t at you 3
yourself mode. You said I:- at you would never '
marry unless our suitor would be able, and Willin ,
to give you wenty thousand dollars to devote
this task. I love you, devotedly and sincerely, and
since I can never hope to win your love as a girl’s
love should be won, then as fortune has ven the
means into my hands, I have determined to uy you,
as I cannot gain you by any other means.”

Adalia was silent for a few moments, her eyes
bent upon the floor, one of her little feet impatiently
ta pin the carpet, and her face pale and thought-
ful? ’Fhe Bohemian watched her closely; he be-
lieved that she was ielding.

An ‘ then, sudden y, she raised her head, a change
visible upon her features; there was a cold, hard
look upon the fresh, young face which Porcyhad
never seen there before.

“I will accept our ofler on one condition," she
said, even her vo ce constrained and, altered and far
less musical than it was wont to be.

“What is it?"

“ Give me six months’ time to devote to this task,
upon which I have set my heart, before you claim
me; allow me to use the money to aid me in my en-
deavors, and then, at the end of six months, whether
I succeed or fail, I will come to on freely—nota
loving bride, for that is too much promise, and I
will not deceive you—but an honest, truthful one,
who in the future will do her besttorepaydyour
kindness, and whowill prove to you by her eeds
how much she ap neciates your generosity.

“It is a bar: n!” he answered, Without a mo-
ment's hesitation: “I fully agree to the conditions,
and not only 5 you have the money, but I my.-
self will assist you to the utmost extent of my
power. '

" You are very kind!” she exclaimed. tefully.

“When I say that I will assist on I 0 not mean
in person, although I would g! ly do so, werelI not
com lied to go to Europe upon important business,
but will provide a gentleman who in all respects
will act for your interests as faithfully as I possibly i
could. I had hoped that I might have induced you i
to accompany me on my European trip, but the con- .
(lition you have enforced u n me prevents that; I
do not complain, though. shall be absent four or
five months, six erhaps, nnd_I shall count the days
until the six mon lis have expired.’

“ How soon do you go?"

:‘I sail to-morrow.”

‘ So soon?"

“Yes, and that is the reason I made all the ar-
rangements about the money; I confess I was not
8 rised at the condition which you have exacted,
1'33 had an idea that you might require something
of that kind, a delay at least, and so I thou ht the ,
matter over and resolved to rovide you Wit a ro-
tector in my absence. Lucki y the one man on of
ten thousand whom I would have selected is in New
York, my half-brother, Hector LangueVille, the son
of my mother by her first husband. He was a
Frenchman, and my half-brother was born and edu-
cated in France, and although he has resided in this
country quite a number of years, still he is not able
to converse very fluently in our tongue. You Will ,
have no difficulty though, in comprehending what
he sa '3, although ie often makes sad blunders.” '

“ ou are very kind and ve thoughtful!" Adalia
confessed looking at the. B0 emian with grateful
cy ‘ and nning to feel that a very strong senti-
men of respect, if not love, was springing up in her
breast for h m.

“He will, I think, in such a matteras this be more ‘
useful than I could prove, for from his urogean
e iience he has uite aknowledge of these dii cult
c minal cases, as e was connected for quite a num-
ber of years with the secret service department of
France. I will see him w-night and have him call I
upon you in the morning."

 

 

Joe Phenix.

“You are very kind indeed!" The grateful ' l
began to think that an es ecial providence
guided this enerous man to er.

“ Oh, I ' do all I can for you, although I frankly
confess that I think you are wasting your time.”

“Ah! if you only knew how deeply the feeling is
im lanted in my heart!" she averred, earnestly.
“ eeping or waking, I think of nothing else; the
pale face of the unfortunate victim of as cruel acon-
spiracy as the world has ever known is ever before
my e es.”

“\ hat was this Gilbert Barlee like?” asked the
Bohemian, carelessly.

“You will laugh when I tell on that I do not
know,“ Adalia admitted, candid y. “I never saw
him—never saw even a picture of him, and yet a face
haunts inc—a pale, sorrowful face with great, re-
proachful eyes. I cannot describe the face to you—
cnnnot tell you what it is like; but it is his face; I
know it! I am sure of it! and the face haunts me to
spur m faltering purpose on to accomplish the vow
I so so enmly took to tear away the heavy vail that
shades the old-time crime and make his innocence
manifest to all the world.”

With his cairn, cold eyes the Bohemian watched
the face of the girl, now rendered doubly beautiful
by the excitement under which she labored, and if
the thoughts which were passin within his mind
could have been deciphered by dalia, she would
have been not only amazed but horrified.

“ If you will be guided by my advice in this matter
—and will also inform my brother of in ideas—
you will a )ply at once to the police heat quarters,
tell your 0 ject and request the superintendent to
procure the services of themost expert detective
hat he can furnish—gl him to understand, of
course, that money is no 0 ject. Justice is repre-
sented as being blind, you know, but it is quite evi-
dent that she is not deaf, for the chlnk of gold sel-
dom fails to reach her ears. To this detective fully
confide all the articulars of the case, and be sure to
leave not the s ightest thing untold. In these intri-
cate criminal matters acobweb will sometimes harifi
a man. Be guided by the detective‘s ad\ ice; he w
know best how to proceed."

“ Oh, sir, how can I ever thank you for the kind
interest on have taken in me!" exclaimed Adana,
her face aming with'gratitude.

“After six months you will find a way to pa me,"-

he remarked, with a smile and a look from h eyes
which sent the warm blood dancing up into the pale
cheeks and forehead of the girl.

“I will ,” she murmured, casting down her
eyes, and looking more enchanting than ever in her
00nfusi n.

o .

“And now give me our signature, and I will bid
you not only ood-nig t, but good-by.”

She. wrote er name Iulpon a sheet of paper and
gave it into his hands. e rose to receive it. ,

“My brother will come in the morning; and you
must trust him as you would me. Good- y!"

He extended his hand, and then, as she timidly
and shyly touched it, he drew her to his bosom, and
impressed a warm, passionate kiss upon her soft
lips; a kiss of love, and yet it made her tremble, she
knew not why.

“Good-by! ’ again he said, and then hastened
away' and shot—she wept, and yet why the tears
sho come she could not

m
a “on rnownaa.

Tn streets along the water-side are not ve live-
1 after htfall, and South street above Pi e on
t e east at e of the city, is particularly desolate ur-
in the hours of darkness.

ew persons are there passing along the wal
and they all hurry along as though in haste, an
even the solitary policeman uickens his steps as he
lpiecesovertha partof his tthatliesnear
ver. . ‘

And yet, deserted as this desolate-appearing dis-
trict seems to be, let some drunken, well-dressed
man come staggering along, and a watcher would
see dark shadows, springing like phantoms from
the very pavementi apparently, d his foot-
steps, and some E oomy nook the own would
assault and rob t o headless stranger: and if the,
drunken man was not so thoroug overcome with
liquoras to be utterly helpless. an dared to offer
resistance to these prowiers of the night the would
not hesitate to add murder to robbery, for t e swift
and ever-moving tide of the East river is right at
hand to receive the body of the victim and so con-
ceal all evidences of the crime.

In due time the tide will cast up the bod —asif
the pure and innocent water, tired of its s hire in
the uilt, and re lentant of the aid which it had af-
fo ed to the ev ~doer had determined no lon r to

. conceal the crime—and then the proper officia will

examine the swollen and disfl ured body, decide
gravely that the wounds and bru had been caused

y contact with the piles of the ier, and the news-
papers the next morning will 0 nicle the “Dis-
covery of the body of another unknown drowned
man.

The records of the river-side. and the history of
the human houls who haunt it, and pre upon
their fellow-k d, have et to bewritten, an w en
’tis done the tears of l the angels will not make
pure the blackened pages.

The clocks had ust s ruck nine when a tall figure
came slouching orig South street.

No danger was there in store for this man, for he
was dressed almost in rags, and he had that undo-
finable somethin about him that plainly told to the
ex rienced eye hat he was “ on e tram ."

urious, wolf-like eyes had peered on at him
behind dark corners as he assed, but these night-
birds of prey had recogn at a lance that the
stranfer was one of their tribe, an with these fel-
lows t is not dog-eat-dog, for they hunger only for
better food.

By do. or by night such a wretched tramp as this
was cut rely safe, even “ along shore.

In a certain block in South street not far from the
locality we have mentioned, is a dingy, two-storied
wooden house, a regular old rat-trap of a bull ,
dating back to the dgys when the worth Dutc
burghers ruled over ew Amsterdam on the all-
conquering Anglo-Saxon had not advanced his ban-
ners west of the Connecticut.

So old was the buildi that it seemed almosta
miracle that if holri togot er. It had been deserted

 

  

 

for years, for the estate to which it belonged was in
litigation, and no one of the contending arties
cared to trouble themselves about the 01 s anty.
Hardly a e of lass remained in any of its
windows—t at is, in he front, where they were ex-
posed to the attacks of the street urchins, who, the
world over, are noted for their fondness of d' lay-
ing their skill in stone-throwing, and a window in an
uninhabited house is an irresistible temptation.

Next door to the old shanty was a brick building
which had once been occupied as a foundry and
boiler-she , but hke a great many others of its class
in New ork, it had succumbed to the evil fortunes
produced by the labor quarrels between the masters.
and the men, which resulted in min to one class and
starvation or enforced emigration to the other.

The boiler-shop, contents and all, had been in the
hands of the lawyers for five years or more, and, as
a natural result, everything had gone to rack and
ruin.

Just outside the shop were some old boilers, now
rusty and dingy from long exposure to the elements,
and right close up to the wall of the old rooke was
a very large boiler with a fire-box at one end ost
lar e enou h for a man to stand upright in.

e fire- x end of the b( iler was close to the door
of the shanty, the men who had placed it in position

havin encroached across the line, but as no one oc-
cupi the old house, of course it made no differ
once.

The tramp was slouchin along with head toward
the ground, apparently hal stupefled, yet with keen
eyes he was diligently surveying all the surround-

in .
go saw the dark, ugly heads, with wolflsh eyes,
which had glared upon him from shadowy corners;
noticed keenly the ap ranoes of these human
vultures, and flgietly ca ulated who and what they
gore, and why y kept themselves secluded from
ew. « -
ntly nothing, yet he saw eve hing!

owly he dneiisifi his weary, shambling f3:

the old house pace slower than ever, an he
gazed at the dingy, battered door of the old tene-
ment as tho h be exmcted with his eyes to pone-
tratc throng the so wood and see what was

within.

The old boiler attracted his attention.

“Aha!” he murmured, “the ve thing! Luck
favors me! There could not be an ing better for '
m purpose'bntflrst, letmeseeifthorebcany
ipogskbeyond; there’s not a soul this side on the

He shambled slowly on his way, his careful e es
on the alert to discover the presence of a con ed

watcher. . ,

Buthissearchwas mittless;notasoulbesides
himself was in the street.

There was a gas-lamp on the corner, and under it
the tramp paused, leaned up against the iron pillar
and cast a piercin gfice Wind.

lB theligt‘eolf. e pthepersonofthemanwas

ALEin revea v
p He was a man of powerful build, clad most wretch-
edly and havmg‘ evidentfi seen much hardshi .
Fromundcrhis old hat ortmasses of 
brownhair stuck on and his chin was covered with .
9. r0 h, stubby . man had not troniaod
a for some time; this was to out.

“It's all ht," he muttered; “ en‘s not a soul
in sighgh can sneak back withontdangor of be-

u n.
mgu hartfiéthreestepshadhetakenfmmthe
lamppr on the measurodtroadofaheavyfoot‘
fallcametohisears.
“It’s the officer on thepost; Imust look out for
him,”thetram said; thenhe turned short around

and went u street to the next corner,
abruptly in the side street, walked u it to the disw
tanoe often oro down houses,an thenturned
aroundand hisstc andsowellhadho
timed his movements, that encountered tho of!-
cer right on the

corner.

The policeman, a stout, -looki I
whowas marching alo ,cub in mid—3%
precaution in this distri where three or four oili-
ce who had, by dint of atton to their duty

e themselves obnoxious to the onlnens of that
looalit , had been suddenly amaulted and half-boot-
en to oath with their own clubs—took a {god look
at the tram , but the man shamblcd past 0 “mo-
tro litan’ withe esbent on the groundfigndhod
so oubled n his that he appeared on old
man rather t an a young on wh ch he was.

“Be me sow]! that’s 8 ha case!" muttered the
policeman, as the man went by. “ Look at the
shoulders on him! Be the host of me mother‘s
grandfather! it’s not meself t at would like to have
a tussle wid the likes of him and no wan by."

But the man never took the least notice in the
world of the officer, and that worth , after a
good look at the fellow, started on his man

Little did the policeman dream that the shabbily-
dressed, broad-s ouldered tramp was the man whose
name for a week had been in everybody‘s mouth in
the neat cit of New York who took the least inter-
estl n the c dranal news of tElbe day. of th m

Sower an 'ower w e e m as

gills of go o p

be listened to the foo nicer dying am
in the co.
At last the sound ceased altogether.

By this time the man was right in frontoftho
huge boiler which lay upon the sidewalk like a db
mantled hulk abandoned upon the shore.

Rapidly he gtllanced up and down thestrect and
thengcrpsghto rest 11,81: Of at: pier: from whence gills
soun o 6 W3 I" c sling against 0
spiles could be distinctly heard.

if: m" °’°° f‘gene‘“ FW£“$mmxgypl?

ca e power 0 rs e .
darkness of the n t.
“ Perhaps I am osing my time, but I'll risk it!" he
muttered, and then be into thematboiler
apttihproggeded through the iron tube to lire-box
a e e .

All within was utter darkness!
CHAPI'ER III].
A nova. main-non.
As the tram crawled through the boiler be funded
that the scan of his own breath was echoed o

circu-rstance which puzzled him much, but 9
believed it but a freak of his Waco, although
for a moment he thought it- poss lo some vagrant

 

 
 

12

:10? 31911139.

 

 

 

log had taken refuge in the boiler, and, curled up
fast asleep, was, in peaceful dreams, forgetting the
:rials of a wandering, vagabond life.

“ I must be careful if some brute is here that I do
not step on him and provoke a bite " the man mut-
..ered, as he stepped mm the rounded boiler into the

' uare fire-box.

0 his utter astonishment he discovered that the
1ire-box was filled with straw, which rustled loudly
as he stepped upon it.

“ Hallo! ’ cried a shrill, boyish voice.

“ Oh, w’at's that?" piped a second voice, shriller
and more childish than he first, and from the tone
twas evident that the possessor of the voice was
much alarmed.

“ Don‘t you be scarti" cried the first speaker.

“If it should be the ghostesses?” whimpered the
second, beginning to cry.

“ Git out! w’at would they want wid us? We ain‘t
.ione nothin to nobody, you beti“ replied the first
cog, evident y somethin of a hero.

he man had remaine as motionless as a statue,
and even attempted to suppress the sound of his
areathing, lest it should betray him. The In stery
)f the two voices was quite plain to him. Two ome-
within the boiler,

.885 street boys had sought refugiek l t m . u
e y 0 ma ria It;

and this circumstance seemed

nteri'ere with the carrying out of the schemes whic
re had devised.
“ Oh, I bet it‘s the ghostesses i“ s uealed the young-
31' boy, who was evi
the two.

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“ Go ‘way wid your nonsensei" replied the other
"harply. “Didn t we say our ‘Now I lay me ‘ jest
Lfore we turned in, jest as we always do? ‘ ain‘t
in ghosts, I’ll bet a shillin’ i”

e man saw that he would have tos k, butjust
as he was about to do so his ears caug t the quick
(harp "click" of a pistol's hammer working, an
the boy immediately spoke.

“Look out now, stranger, whoever you be, ghost
7r no ghost!" the oungster cried' ‘ I’ve got my
pop-gun out and I’ll et 'er drive, dead sure! ‘less you
.ing out and say who you are, and w’at you want,
and w‘at you are a—doin’ about er, a-disturbing a
confine of gen’lemen in their private ’partment at
‘ec an hour as this, when all good folks o ht to be
in bed and aslee i Spit it out, now, or I’ drill a
,-Iole clean throng you!"

There was no mistaking the determination so
slainly written in the lad‘s voice, and the intruder

id not doubt in the least that the boy would be as
good as his word.

" Hold on! don‘t shoot!" he said, quiet] , taking
a sleet upon the rounded part of the b0 or as he

spo e.

“0h, jiminettil it’s a maul" the little one whined.

“ Of course it is, and ain't we men, too? or we will
0e when we grows up!“ the elder boy exclaimed.

“ Do not be alarmed; I do not mean to harm you,"
the man said, and there was something calm and
reassuring in the tones of his voice.

“I bet you won‘t!" averred the oldest b0 , confl-

dently. We never did nothing to no y, and,
’sides, I carry a pop, I do!
“ Put your pistol up; you are perfectly sale without

‘t," the man said, gravely.

 

 

 

“Yes; but w‘at do
boy uestioned; “me be you don’t know that we
own t '5 here hotel, me and my brother; my name‘s
Chi y and his is Dunno.”

“ ow comes it that you sleep here? have you no
better home?”

“ No, sir and this here does bully, too, and it don’t
cost nothin ," the boy anSWered. “ In course we
could go to t e Newsboys‘ Home if we liked—we are
both on us newsboys, we are—but that costs money
and we‘re jest a-putting away all our stamps and

when we get a stake big enough we’re both on us .

a-goin’ ou West for to be farmers and grow up with
the country—go to Californy, mebbe."

“ And you brou ht this s raw in here and made a
house for yoursel , eh?”

“Yes, sir ou bet we did! and it’s just as warm
as kin be. e snug les in down here and we don’t
ask no odds of nobmdy, we don't!"

“And the police— 0 they ever trouble you?"

“Oh, they don’t know nothiu’ ’bout it' we never
slides in here when any of the cops are round; we
allers looks out for them and waits till they git out
of the way'
hotel ain't hig enoug
here, there‘s a crowd.“

‘_‘dI have no idea of intruding upon you,” the man
sai .

“Yes, but on are here, you know,“ the boy inter-
rupted, “an then mebbe another one will come if
you stay, and then another one, until we’ll be full-
er‘n a tick here, and the police will get wind of it

for three; when there‘s two

W7
. iii/"(iii

{ii .‘

.‘1

 

_.. ,_._.~_, ‘

and come down onto us and bu‘st up the hull con-
cernl“

It was very evident that the boy was very much in
earnest and felt decidedly ag rieved.

The intruder perceived tha he would be obliged
to make the boys acquainted with his scheme or else
he would not be able to pursue it.

“ Harkye, boys, can you keep a secret?“

“ Oh. yes, course we kin!" answered Chippy,
promptly; “can’t we, Dunno?"

“Yes guess so," replied the other, ever the echo
of his older and stouter brother.

“ If you will not betra me, but keep my secret
honest y, you shall be we] rewarded."

“ Oh, we'll do it; but it ain’t a—goin‘ to git us into
any trouble, is it, ’cos we’re right on the square, we
are, both on us, ain‘t we, Dunno?"

“ Oh, yes, we wouldn‘t do nufiln wrong for all the
world, ‘cos we war brought up good and we says our
‘ N ow I lay_me’s ’ every night and morning, reg‘lar,"
pi the httle one, in his shrill voice.

f Are on all alone in the world, boysi—have you
neither ather nor mother?"

There was a momentary silence; evidently the
lads: hesitated to reply; but at last the elder one
spo e.

” Please, sir, we take care of ourselves, and we
ain‘t got anybody to look our for us."

“And how long have you lived here?"

“ 'Bout six months sir."

“ Well, if I live—if i am not killed within the next
six months, I’ll find a way to make your life an
easier one, my little friends.”

“Thank on, air, we would be very much obliged
to you." py replad, a little mystified by the

but, I say, w‘at do you want here? This :
i

i

 

HAND ON HIS REVOLVER, HE WAITED FOR THE APPROACH OF THE TWO STD-AN

 

. with pride.

A u

on want here, anyway?” the x strangeness of the speech, and he would have been

still more astonished if he could have seen what
manner of man the stranger was who promised to
do so much.

“Oh, sir, it would be too jolly!" Dunno ex-
claimed, evidently delighted at the prospect “for
we have a hard time on it, and it’s awful cold here
in winter.”

“But we stick it through, sir," Chippy added,
“Oh, we‘re tough little rats! Dunno
ain’t quite so tou h as I am but he ain’t so old, sir,
and he‘s been sic a good deal; but as for me, sir,
I‘m tougher‘n thunderi”

“ Do you know anything about this old house next .

door?" the man asked.

“ The old rookery?"

“ Is that what it is called ?"

“ Yes, sir."

“ Does anybody live there?"

“ No, sir.‘

“ Ghostessesi” put in Dunno, suddenly, in a
“ scart " tone.

“ Ghosts, eh?“

“Well, it's something, sir,” admitted Chippy,
slowly and reflectively.

” What do you mean? Explain.”

“Well, sir, it's awful queer,” the boy replied.
“ Dunno and me generally turn in ’bout nine o’clock
and it don’t take us long to fall into the arms 0
Murphy, as the feller at the thea-ter said the other
night, and we both slee s pretty sound, too; but
sometimes we are wake up by awful noises; we

  

\

\ y 

,\\

  

,_,__.

onasé-Page 5.

 

don’t say a word, you bet, for  the ghosts, or
whatever it is, should find us out.

“ What are the noises like?"

“Ra s-—" "

“Yes like what the say the ghostesses make,
put in bunno. “ I rea ’bout ’em in the paper. .

The conversation now sunk into barely audible
whis ers, such as befitted the subJect.

“ides, there’s two or three raps, est short and
quick like, and then we km always ear footsteps
a-movin’ around." _ "

"How long does the norse generally last?

“ Oh, only a minute or two. ‘ "

“And how often in a night do on hear it?

“Two or three times, some imes, when we're
awake, and then ag’in we sleep so sound that we
never hear an thin ."

“ Ohi" crie( Dungno, ina whi r, the little fellow
had wonderfully sharp ears, “I ’re caning now!"

“Hush! not a word for your lives!" the tramp
commanded.

The scheme was working.

CHAPTER XXIII.
IMPORTANT INFORMATION.

Tm; sound of the feetste s grew more and more
distinct, and the listening t within the old boiler
ke t just as still as mice.

he man who was approaching was not coming
straight on, as a chance passer-by would have been
apt to do, but was slowlv sauntering along as though
he were walkin for pleasure alone, but surely it

 

was a strange ancy to select such a locality and
such an hour for an idle promenade.

The footsteps slackened pemeptiblyas the man

\

 

 

 

unv—
“i—d

13

 

Joe 7 Phenix.

 

up reached the boiler, and finally he came to a halt,
e dently right at the door of the old house.

The listeners almo.t held their breath, so afraid
were they that their presence would be discovered.

The man knocked at the door; a sharp, gillck tap,
evidently given with a piece of metal, an then, af-
ter an interval of a minute, are two more taps.

A minute more and a gru voice asked:

“ What do you want?"

The speaker was clearly inside the door, although
there had been no sound to indicate that the door
had been opened, but the acute watcher, concealed
within the boiler, guessed at once that there was
either a slidin or a hinged panel in the door by
means of whic the sentinel within could hold con-
verse with the applicant for admission without the
necessity of opemng the door.

“I want the fishman."

“ What fishman?"

“ Captain Shark.”

Des ite the firm control that the spy held over
aimse he could hardly repress a start when this
rid name fell on his ears.

“ What do you want with him?"

“ To sell him some fish."

“ Are they fresh f"

“ Oh. ve freshl”

“ What nd i“

“ Tom-cod.”

With this answer the conversation abruptly ceased;
.here was a dead silence for a moment and then

here was a sound indicating that the door was be-

! l'l ’

“ms YOU m Born in rmsomms!”

lag opened; the a plicant for admission glided in,
the door closed an again the street was desorted.

To the simple-minded boys this colloqu afforded
no particqu food for thought, although t e rather
Wondered at a “flshman " occupym the 01 house,
which they had always supposed to deserted; but
lo the spy it gave a clew which followed up could
1ot fail to lead to great results.

Captain Shaz-kl .

To come face to face with the individual who bore
that stran e name was the dearest d sire of the
heart of t e man who was riling his life by pene-
trating into the mysterious aunts “ along shore."

So far fortune had favored him; he had gamed a
knowl e of the password required to secure al.1-
mission nto the den of the outlaws, for such the oil
house evidently was, but how to turn that knowledge
to account at present was not clear.

The boys were beginning to drop off to sleep

lgain; the expectation of the a pearance of tin i

‘ghostesses " had ke t them aw e, but now that
the sup sed appari ion had resolved itself into a
fish—ven er in search of a customer, tired nature bo-
gan to assert its sway.

Dunno was the first to yield to the influence of the

god of slumber, and he slowl curled himself up in his- .

straw nest and traveled off nto the land of dreams.

“Say, you man," said Chippy, preparing to fol- ‘.

low his brother’s example, “ you won’t tell anybody
ut our bunking in here, Will you?"
 , not" the stranger responded.
us, but you‘re welcome to bunk in here, if you ain‘t
got no otter place to snooze," the boy remarked,
generously.

\‘\

{9357/

right, for there ain‘t room here for more'n 3

“I‘m very much oblig .”

“ Well, good‘m‘ght, fer it is much as I kin do to keep
my eyes open,” and then Chipopy resigned himself to
the embraces of the drowsy g .

“ I had better wait,” the spy murmured, commu-
ning with himself; “ I may overhear somethin
more. The information was correct which I receiv
about this old house; there is no doubt that it is the
head- uarters of the gang. 1am on the ri ht scent
and t e next blow that deal them will worse
than the first.“

The meditations of the watcher were interrupted
at this point by the sound of footsteps approaching.

And this time, as before, the footsteps indicated
that the man was slow] sauntering along.

“ Another one of m irds?" the spy muttered.

The reason for the eisurely approach of the mem-
bers of the gang who intended to enter the old house
was lain. They feared detection; it was all-import-
ant hat suspicion should not be directed to the
rookery, and therefore as they approached it they
kgpt a wary eye about them to detect the presence
0 a spy.

The new-comer halted at the door of the old
shanty and tapped on it three times, in precisely the
same manner as the first had done, and the same
conversation followed.

This man, too wanted to see the fishman Captain
Shark, and he had fresh fish to sell, and t ey were
Tom-cods, but, after announcing the name of his
fish the man abruptly added:

“ old on a moment—has Neddy come?”

 

U“ H 'I

 

It NoI 99

“ How many are within?"

H  !"

H  fl‘

“Dan McGhee.”

_“Well, Iwon‘t go in ct. Iwant to have a talk
“1th Nedd in private. ome one is coming now. I
shouldn‘t e surprised if it was him. Shut pan!"

The listener understood that this was a command
to close the panel. Not a word of the conversation
had escaped him; familiar indeed to his ears was
the voice of this last speaker and a fierce thrill of
joy shot through his heart as he reflected how cun-
mngly and completel he was entangling these ras-
cals in the web of jus ice.

“It is my man,” he muttered; “I could recognize
the voice from among a thousand! Ca tain Shark
has about got to the end of his rope, an at the end
I is a hangman's noose."

The man who had held the conversation with the
' sentinel in charge of the door walked down the street
' a few ste 3, apparently to meet the new-comer to
‘ whom he lad referred; he did not go far, and after
_ he had recognized and exchanged greetings with the

man. both 0 them came right up to the boiler and
one of them even leaned on it as the conversation
, proceeded, so that not a single word of the interview
was lost to the sp .

“ Hallo, Neddy, is that you?" the man had asked,
evidently a fellow of note among the gang.

“ Yes, Cap," the new-comer had answered.

I And at this answer the concealed spy had nodded

- his head, significantly. As h' had expected, the first
speaker was Captain Shark in person.

- “You are alone?"

 

 

/ . -__._———Al

 

liYes."

“ Where’s your man?"

“ Blamed if I know.“

“Didn’t he come?"

“ Not yet.”

“What do you suppose is the matter?"

“ Well, now, Cap, you’re too much for me. I heard
of the fellow last night, just as I told you, at Blat'li
Jake’s dance-house in Cherry street, and from the
description the gave I reckoned he was the very
chap we wante to do the job. I’ve been there tin
night ever since six o’clock, but he hain’t come in,
and as I reckoned that you would be anxiors to
know why I didn‘t come if I waited any longer, I
thought I (1 come up and let you know how the jig
was working.”

“The fellow is a tramp?”

it Yes.!!

“ Well, have (you seen him?” '

“No but Bu dy has, and he says that he's a bigi
powerful fellow, just the man to do the job if he’
only agree to take hold of it.”

“The best thing then is for 'ou to go back and
wait for him.” the caEtain said. “He’ll probably
come in before midni t; or perhaps you’ll stumble
u n somebody else t lat may answer our purpose.
'1‘ is man must be got rid of, at any price, and at any
risk, or else we are all doomed.”

“All ri ht, Cap; I’ll git at once!”

“ And ’11 wait until midnight for you."

And with this the two men parted; one knocked
at the door of the old house and was admitted,

HI

1 .
,Illl-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

w

llnw

I ‘3,"‘1|‘!v i

 

 

m: cnmn, “comma” m as'romsnnn RABOALS wrrn A mm or momma—Page 6.

vrzhilet the other retraced his steps down the
s ree .

And in the interim a bold, brilliant plan had flash-
ed mto the mind of the spy.

( HAPTER XXIV.
A BOLD OPERATION.

Tuspy waited until the sound of the footsteps
of the man who had gone down the street had died
awa in the distance, then addressed the lads.

“ re you asleep, boys?” he asked. There was no
answer. Both of the little homeless waits were
soundly locked in slumber’s chains, and in their
dreams there appeared to them scenes far different
from those in which they daily participa'ed. After
all, sleep is the great enchanter and his miracles are
truly wonderful:

And then, 110150165811 the spy proceeded to de.

part.

At the mouth of the boiler he haltrd f r a mo
ment and glanced cautiously around him.

Nota soul was in sight, and so the spy was en-
abled to gain the street without being observed.

“ Now, if all goes well, I can trap these follows to-
night, right In their den. I must get word to thc
ch at at once, for there is no time to lose.”

At the corner of the street. under the lamp-post.
the SPY halted. drew a pencil and a small memor-
andum-book from his pocket, and after a careful

lance “P and dewn the deserted street, for caution

ibecome a second nature to this man since he

had taklniz'u the bloodhound’s trade, he wrote hur-
riedllyla brie message in the book.

it who is to take it?" he muttered for a mo

mt Perplexed. “The omcers cannot leave then

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

14

 

J oer Phenix. _

 

 

 

, and I dare not trust it to a stranger, lest by
accident I should place it in the hands of one of the
gang, and the result of that would be the forfeit of
m own life. Oh! what a stupid fool I am!" he
cried abru tly. “The older of the two boys! He
is a shrewd? cunning led and will be sure to befaith-
ful. I’ll t him out at once.”

Hurrie ly the spy returned to the boiler and suc-
ceeded in waking Chippy without disturbing the
other one.

“ Follow me without making any noise.”

“But Dunno will be scart if he wakes up and
can‘t find me.” Chippy declared.

“He is not likely to wake up, and if you’ll do a
lfavor for me—carry a message—I’ll give you a dol-

ar V7

“ Oh my!" the boy exclaimed, his eyes dilating
at the idea of earning so large a sum so easily.

“Come on and don t make any noise.”

The two emerged from the boiler, and the spy led
the way to the corner of the first cross street above.

“ Do you know where the police head-quarters are,
in Mulberry street i"

“ Yes, sir."

“ Take this note there," and the sp tore the leaf
upon which he had written out o the book and
folded it up. “Ask to see Superintendent Walling—
you remember the name?"

“Oh, yes! I knows him—he’s the boss!” the boy

replied, (filickl¥. _

‘ Exec y! nsist upon seeing him in person;
don‘t so. a word to any one about this note or show
it; puti in your pocket, so that no one will see it.
Say that Mr. Phenix sent you and that you must see
the superintendent.”

“Mr. Phenix!“ and the boy‘s eyes w saucer-
like in his amazement. “ Oh! iiminetti are you Mr.
Phenixhthe police spy? I all 'bout you in the
extras!

The metropolitan journals had not failed to dofull
Justice to the police spy on the occasion of the trial
of the lodging-house gang whom he had succeeded
in trap ing, and against whom he had been the prin-

ess

‘Yes, I’m the man; but remember, do not say
anything to anybody about where you met me;
merely say that you must see the superintendent,
and that on came from Mr. Phenix.“

The p0 ce spy had a shrewd idea that some of the
omcials at the police head-quarters, if not real] -
members of the desperate gang whom it was s
life‘s task to break up and estroy, gave them all
the aid and information in their power, and he was
determined that on this occasion his bold and skill-
ful plan to entrap the leaders of the band should not
fail throu h treachery. I

“Oh, Im fly, Cap!" cried the boy, earnestly.
xiiiobo‘dy shall git a word out of me ’cept the boss

“That's a good boy!" the spy exclaimed, and then
another idea occurred to him.

“ After you see the superintendent and give him
the note, say to him that if he wants a guide you
know every foot of the ground all about here."

“You bet!" cried Chippy, promptly; and then all
of a sudden the truth of the matter flashed upon

him. "Oh, I say! you’re after the fishman in the
old shanty?"
“ Perhaps. But mind; not a word of the matter to

all one, exce t to the superintendent."
All right; '11 be as dumb as an eel!"

“Andi everything goes well you shall have not
one dollar but ten more. Now be oif with out"

The liberality of the offer fairly took e boy's
breath away for a moment.

“ Here’s your dollar, and a uarter besides, to pay
your car-fare," the spy con nued. “ Take a car,
and when you return with the police look by the
boiler for a little piece of paper crumpled up into a
ball—just a iece like that note rolled up. If you
, fies o ahead. I will be within the
house; but if t is u there tell the superintendent
to draw off his men to a safe distance, and you
crawl into the boiler and wait until you hear me en-
ter the house; then and tell the captain You
will be sure to remem r all this?"

“ Oh! every word every time. Cap!” the boy
cried, prom tiy. “ h, I won’t make no mistake! ’
erarlsky thlifilto trustthis message,
upon which the spy knew very life depended, to
a mere boy and Phenix did so with perfect faith
cm the mi wo dbe uaitothetlsk. -

“ Be off with you, an lose no time!”

Chippy waited not for another injunction but
I at

the top of his speed.

It was not the though of the reward thaturgd
the lad on so much as the knowledge that he d
been trusted with an implortant message by the
great lices ,who in t e eyes of theboy,was
about he mos im rtant gersomge in the world.

“ A smart little eliow " henix murmured, as for

a moment he stood motionless and watched the boy

hurry up the street. And then. as the active re

21:3pr in the gloom, the spy pre for
o

n.
“ Now for Black Jake's dance-house: I hav’n‘t

any idea where it but it can‘t be far 011', and the

first man I meet probably be able to inform

me."

ChPhenix proceeded up the street until he came to
e .

Argoiiceman stood on the corner and the spy at
once accosted him.

The metro litan gave the information required.

“ Two bloc up the street wid a red ht over the
door, an’ mind yer ey? for they 0 t gh min
there though, begob! 'm afther t ' that they
woul n‘t make much out ofhflou."

The spy still keepi up assumed character of
he tramp nodded wit a knowing wink and sham-
bled up the street.

The dance-house was easily found; the red light-—
the signal of dan r—and never more truly so than
in this instance—t w its lurid fire over he dark-
‘neut of the street. cutting a fiery le in the night as

were.

There was the “ merry sound of music and of
dance," and hoarse screams of laughter came from
within and floated on the murky air without.

Black Jake’s den was a favorite resort, evidently,
for the dwellers alo ore.

Juneau a moment s hesitatim the spy opened the
r an entered.
He found himself in a long. m, low-coiled

 

 

room, well-filled with a motley crowd of men and
women.

Close to the door was a small bar where the pro-
prietor of the place, Black Jake—not a negro, as one
would imagine from the name, but a Spaniard, with
a bushy black beard and a skin almost as black as
the color of the tawny sons of Africa—presided.

At the further end of the room a German pianist
and violin-player furnished the music for the dan-
cers.

Phenix went at once to the bar.

“ Bay, is Noddy here?” he asked.

CHAPTER XXV.
ran rasxcnnsn.

A animus] un night Adalia
interview wit her 3 range suitor.

least during the night the odd scene came back to
her, and confused and m stifled with those fanciful
additions that in the lam of dreams abound.

And all through her slumbers a strange sense of
op ression haunted her; she no longer seemed
30 a free agent, but to be weighted and bound

Own.

Some subtile, mysterious influence was redomi-
nating over her oung life, and she felt as f invisi-
ble chains were ing fastened around her limbs—
c visible to the eyes. to the sense of touch,
but they fettered the limbs, though, as thoroughly
as if they had been‘forged of triple steel.

And in her dreams the old-time legend came again

 

ssed after her

and again to her of the rash and unfortunate mor— ‘

ta! who, for certain temporal ad vantages, sold him-
self body and soul to the author of all evil.

Had she, too, made a bargain of that nature?
Was this handsome-faced, velvet-voiced suitor, that
had wooed so cunningly, and so succ , thanks
to the money which he possessed, o the fiend of
darkness in disguise, and had she ered her
figway in order to carry out her heart's dearest

And when the first gray light of the early morn
stole in through the window—the single window
which lighted her humble room—and the spirits of
darkness fied, like evil fiends from angels of ii ht,
with an uneasy start and a muffled c for he p—
hel against what, she knew not—A alia awo e,
bat ed in perspiration.

Never before in all her young life had she passed ‘

such a t.

She knew that it was very early, for the sun was
not up at, and the morning was clear, and so she
still rec ed upon her couc and earnestly reflect-
ed upon the momentms events of the previous even-

in .

Percy‘s face rose vividly before her; his tones, so
persuasive still magi her ears.

But,asshe refiec u u what had passed be-
tween herself and the B0 emian, a at instinc-
tive dislike for the man grew stronger an stronger

u n her.
%’hy she should dislike him she could not tell— for
he lwas about the only friend that Heaven had sent

to er. _

“ Why should I not take the money?“ she mun
mured, arguing against the strange dislike she felt.
“Why should not ve_ myself to him? What does
it matter? Everyt in his world is bought with
a price. Why should not sell m self f
well as for love! The money I sha
love perhaps might esca me. Perhaps in time I
may earn to love him. y should I not? I do not
love any any one else, and in all my life 'I have never
cherished a dream of the kind of man that I should
prefer, as I have known other girls to do. Wh
should I not learn to love him?" she repeated. “ Th;
st , unreasonable dislike that has taken
sion 0 me is utter folly. I am weak and foo h to
yield to it for a moment will take the money; I
will try and love him for his goodness, with all my

It was along and bitter struggle, but in the end
the influence of the Bohemian had conquered.

Talk not of gold as idle dross, but how humbl be-
fore it and ac owledge that it is the bile en-
chanter that has ever waved a scepter in his world!

The girl rose when the sun s came dancing in
at her window, made her toilet, .her b ast,
and then sat down to the table and thh n and ink

roceeded to fill out the first check that had ever
rawn in her life.‘ .

“ A h dollars will be enough for the t{gis-
sent," she said, as she signed her name at the 110 m
of the check; “but su se that this is all a jest—
that this check is we ess, or that there is no such
bank? It would be a cruel joke!"

She determined to ascertain the truth at once, so
she put on her hat and cloak and hurried out. Stop-

ing the first oliceman she saw, slfilinquired of him
81 regard to e location of the b k distrustfully
addin , “I suppose there is such a ank?” The
d an of the ublic weal at once eased her mind
Ey the informat on that there certainly was such a
bank, but he was norant in regard to its location,
and recommende her to procure a directory in
some of the stores which would give her the
desired informs ion.

Adalia followed the omcial’s counsel and so easily

ed what she wished to know.

The bank was situated down town; so the girl took
a car and roceeded there at once. The place was
still cl and a gentleman informed her that it
would not open for an hour yet.

And there was another hour of suspense; so Ada.
lia paced idly u and down Broadway—the bank
was situated on t at great thoroughfare—until the
hour expired; in fact, to avoid being the first custo-
mer, she waited until a quarter past the hour before
she ascended the steps of the building.

At one of the little windows within she presented
the check.

The clerk took a good look at her, another at the
signature, litely requested her to write her name
on the bee of the check, and after she had done so
compared it with another signature asted in a large

and then in the most matter-o -fact way, took
out a huge lpile of bills—more money apparently
than thegir had ever seen before in her life, and
counted out a hundred dollars in ten-dollar bills.

“ Tens will do, miss, I presume," he said, “ or I
can give on smaller or larger as you .

The gir , dazed at the large sum laced within her

hand, murmured that “tens wo d do," and then

wenty times at ,

fi.

' hurried out into the o n air with the little roll'
clutched tightly in her ainty white hand.

It was no dream! the mongol was in the bank.
subject to her order. Percy h kept his part of the
com t and there was now no excuse for her; she
mus keep her promise.

She hurried home at once, and entering her little,
humble apartment threw the money upon the table
and with a firm, whitc, rigid face egazed u on it.

“I have sold myself!” she cri , “an new, hav-
ing il'eceived the earnest money, I belong to this
man "

There was a gentle tap at the door just then;
Adaha gathered up the money and thrust it into the
drawer of the table, and then went to the door.

.A stran er stood there—a man about the medium
8120, With lack hair, black mustache and imperial,
and a peculiar olivotingcd face.

abort

A stranger, and yet there was somethin
” Ah, mademoiselle—miess. I beg ze ten t’ousand

the face that seemed very familiar to the gir .

pardons. I have ze honor to see Miess Cummer‘
toll 1'“

“ 'cs, Mir," rcplied the girl, astonished at the fa-
miliar sound of the man‘s voice.

“ I have ze grand honor to introduce myself,” he
said. “ I do come on biesness. My name, mademoi
sclle—miess, is Hector Langueville.”

And then, with the announcement of the name the
remembrance of who the man was flashed all at
once upon the girl.

This was Percy’s half-brother — the gentleman
who be had said would call upon her, and who was
to aid her in her difficult task of clearing away the
staingghft rested so darkly upon the name of Gil.

ee.

No wonder that the face seemed familiar—no won-
der that she recognized the tones of the voice! De-
! spite his dark complexion and his strong French ac-

cent, he greatly resembled Percy both. in face and

“Yes, sir,Iam gladto see ’ou- walk in lease-
Mr. Percmy1 spbke to me about yfiu.“ ’ p '
She ered the Frenchman into the room, pro-
vided a seat for him, and tried to receive him cordi-
ally as she ought to receive the brother of the man
who was to be her future husband, and yet, all the
time there was an instinctive feeling of aversion
win 11 in her heart against the stranger.
s e s ould dislike the man she could not have

to] ; it came from instinct not from reason.

“No, no, a t‘ousand t‘an s mademoiselle—miess;
Iviil not be a-seated,” he said, declining the chair
with a low bow. “ It is a-late, and if we are to see
3e chief de police, it is bettair sat we go presently at

nce.’

Adalia assumed her hat and cloak, secured her
money, and then signified that she was ready.

“Proceed we then, for justice!" he exclaimed.
theatrically. .

 

CHAPTER XXVI.
was: sworn or ms cams.

Tan twain roceeded at once to the white-fronts!
bmld in . ulberrylstreet where the stern agent.-
of just ce have their cad arters. L

On the wa thither Mr. eviile explained in
the girl the: he had had a great deal of ex rieuco
with the French detectives, and illustrn cd—not
very clear , though, on account of his broken Eng-
lish—how * ar superior the olice system of Paris
was to that of any other city in the world.

And as for_the New York omcials, when he spoke
of them, the gentleman elevated his shoulders in
that liar manner common to the modern Gaul,
and t us plainly expressed his contempt:

‘ “ They are one set of bun lers; they do not un'
derstand ze finesse. Ah, made oiselle—miess, I fear
saw viii be of no use to you."
the girl been less firm in resolution, she sum-
ly would have been disco ed; no one seemed to
believe that she could accomp anything; but she
was determined in her purpose. Had she not self
herself, and of what use was the in my unlcs
she pcrsevered in her endeavor? She could Sup
rt herself b her daily toii- few pcogilglarc there
11 this world w llin to work w o canno d enough
to do to support li e.

Inquiring for the superintendent, they were con-
ducted at once to his presence, and Adana made
known her b ess. ,

The chief listened patiently, but it was quite plain,
to the quick eyes and keen apprehension of the r1,
from the expression upon his ace, that he consi er-
ed her quest a hopeless one.

“It’s a long time ago, miss,“ he_said; “ after the
lapse of fifteen or sixteen years it is pretty hard
work to get at the facts in such a case as this. I re-
member this man Barlce very well, and have uite
a distinct recollection of the circumstances 0 his
trial, and I admit, miss, I believe that he wasan in-
nocent man and unjustly convicted; but the evi-
dence was very strong against him—not quite strong
enough to hang him, but enough so to send him to
State Prison for life."

“ And do you think, air, that! there is absolute] no
hope of ever getting at the truth .9" Adalia aske , al-
most beginning to despair. ” .

“ Oh, no; I 0 not say that _ the police superln.
tendent replied, quickly. “While there is life there
is hope, you know. Just be seated and excuse me
for a moment; I will see what I can do for you."

Adana and her escort obeyed the injunction, and
the superintendent left the room.

“ You rceive mademoiselic, sat zere vill be om,
grand di cultv," the Frenchman observed. with u
very discouraging shake of the head

“Oh, it cannot be possible that Heaven will for.
ever permit this terrible outrage against an inno.
cent man to go unpunished l“ A alia exclaimed, fer.

t1 .
ve'l‘lhg Frenchman looked Slt her out of fine corners

f his e esin a very pec iar manner; was ve
gvidentythat he was amazed at her persistence. W

In about ten minutes the superintendent re.

urned.
t " Now if you will have the kindness to step thi.
way,“ be said, pausing in the doorway.

They atom at once and followed the chief, who
ushered them into a small, plamly-fumished omco
on the same floor as the mam room. . I

At a desk in the room sat a pale-faced, well-built
man, busily engaged in writing, who lifted by W

 

as the visitors entered. -

 

 

“This is Mr. Phenix, the police spy, miss, who has
consented to take charge of your case."

The famous detective was no stranger by re uta-
tion to the girl, for she had read all about the trial of
the lodging-house gang in the newspapers, and so
she gazed with a natural curiosity upon the person
who had in so short a time made such a pecuhar
re utation.

ut as the name did not seem to affect theFrench-
man in the least, it was plain that he was ignorant

of the ability and daring of the sad-faced but iron- I

willed police spy.

“ Explain everything to this gentleman,“ Walling
continued, "and if any one can succeed in unraveling
tin tangled stein of circumstantial evidence whic
sent Barle- x ‘4) Sin: Sing, and by so doing brlngéight
on the re ll criminal, most assuredly he will the
man, and you can rely upon my giving him all the
assistance in my mwer."

Then the superinti-inlcnt bowed himself out of the

room.

"Be seated, please," said Phenix, 5 king quite
low and very slowly, and by this simp e device suc—
citilding in disguising his natural tones most effect
u y.

The pair complied with the request.

“ The superintendent informs me that you wish
my services in the case of Gilbert Barlee, arrested
for murder, in the .
sentenced to State rison for life and who died at
Sin lllgpflly a short time ago," he continued.

vs, sir.

“ Have you ever made an memorandums in re-
gard to the case?" Phenix as ed, slowly and reflect-
ivrly. “The report of the trial can be obtained
from the daily press of the period."

{far 1&30, tried, condemned and ‘

 

“Yes, sir, in lbisliltle book you will find a co_m- i
plete history of the case," the girl answered, tale 1

a little memorandum—book from her pocket an
placing it upon the desk before the  “It was
prepared years ago when I was a chil y one who
was fully acquainted with all the rticulars."

There was a eculiar gleam in t e eyes of Phenix
as he 0 ened he book, and it was answered by a
strange ight which shone in the orbs of the French-
man. The roduction of the book was evic‘.-ntiy a
sur riseto iim.

T c pages oi: the book were covered with fine,
iehg'iblle writing, evidently the work of a women‘s

[1

The narrative was entitled:
“TEE Sronr or Gmnmr BAnLnE.”

“I will read it aloud," the spy said, after a mo
neut‘s reflection, “ and if there are any gaps in the
account perhaps you can suppl them.”

“In the year 1860," Phenix e on, reading from
the book, “in the city of New Yor livod a wealthy
tobacco-broker named Jose Diego Avala. He resid-
ed on Madison avenue and he had a place of buSi-
ness in Wall street. This Avala was a man of fifty,
or thereabouts; a proud, self-willed, passionate )er-
son, domineering and arm nut in manner. . no
child only had Avala-a dauz ter. a beautiful girl of

lughteen at the time of which I write. A'vala’s bus1-

ness was not a very extensive one, and in his Wall
street office a single clerk and an omce—boy attended
to all the business. The clerk was named Gilbert
Barlee. He was an orphan and without a relative
in the world. As was but natural under the circum-
stances the clerk became acquainted with his
em loyer's daughter, and the girl, vain, fickle anl
iiig ty, fell in love with the Iona” man. The pas-
sion was a mutual one, an Banlee, who was the
very soul of honor, wished to go bol llv to the old
man and ask for the hand of his daughter, but she
would not hear of such a. thing. 81h: was sure that
her father would never consent, and besides, Wlfh
true Spanish coquetry, she had set her heart upon a
secret marriage. Barlce at first wavrellictant to
take such a desperate step, but the girl persuaded
him that that was the only way by Whicn she might
be won, and so at he consented and they were
married.

“ l‘his union was kept a profound secret from an
(as world with one exception; the writer of these
lines, the confidant/3 of Magdalena Avail», find one,“
the witne es to the marriage, a servant in the min-
ister's lion e being the other.

“Just about two months after this secret mar-
riage one u ht a policeman on duty in Wall street
was hurried y accosted by a s . r who said that
he feared that there was some ." Wy‘O in an
ofllce down the street as he had heard cries or help
comin from it accompanied by groans. 'lne officer
hurrie at once to the s t. The ofllce indicated

was the business place the tobacco-broker, Jose

 

 

Avala. A light was burning within and the. groans, ‘2
as describ ‘d b the stran or could be distinctly
heard. The p0 icemar trie the door; it was locked,

and so.with a well-directed _
lock, and rushed into the room. A hon'ible s ht
met his eyes. Upon the floor lay the old bro er
welte in his blood, and by his side trying to
stanch e wounds was his clerk, Gilbert Barlee.

“The officer at once gave
procured assistance but the
save the life of the old man, for
examine him life was extinct.
circumstances Barlee was sun
niitted the murder, although a was, a )arently,
trying to assist the old man upon the 0 per: en-
trance; but mmraiices were all must him. The
officer testi that the door was ocked and that
he was compelled to force it o n. An after exami-
nation disclosed the fact tha the ire was in the
lock on the incida, thus proving beyon the shadow
of a doubt that either arlee or. the old man
locked the door; after enter the office: but about
Who strangest fact of all was at the unknown man
:who had called the officer’s attentionyo the scene
of the tragedy never appeared again.

CHAPTER XXVII.
uknnna’s nnrnnsn.

Ar this point the s y erased reading, and raising
nis eyes from the boo ',
face of the girl.

“This circumstance-the strange and unaccount-
able ktiepllllg in the backtgroumtlo of the mangmtvgigo
gave on arm—op are ome possess
niflcancc. althoughfif I remember the story of the
trial rightly, no one attached nor
“ all .1311i ‘1’ the :13 , > " ~

aid came too late to
when they came to

. ,.,-..!Q»‘
...&ll. L.

kick he beat in the frail ,

. himself to believe that

the alarm. and soon '1 her own free Wm propose “Ch 5 thing 01' consent to

Of course under the 3
ed to have com- A

. lee Would not consent, and be freely threatened him

fixed them upon the anxious =

importance to it ‘

Joe Phenix.

15

 

be—gdpassinir stranger, without interest in the
y whale. or, why did he no come forward
on the trial and give his evidence in regard to the
matter, as he was the first to hear the groans of the
wounded man and to call the attention of the police
to the spot? If my memory is correct, it was re-
sumed that the stranger was a traveler, who, a r
warning the police, proceeded on his Journey and
troubled his head no more about the matter. With
this explanation evegy one was satisfied. and no one,
even in the remote manner, connected this man i
with the real author of the crime, presuming Bar-
lee’s strong assertions that he was innocent of all
knowledge of the deed not to be the truth."

“ It was strange," the girl admitted, thoughtfully. l

“ Yes, it was more than strange; it was a criminal ‘
blunder on the part of those who had charge of Bar-
lee’s case, but just such blunders are committed 3
daily. The man should have been foun for if Bar-
lee was innocent, the chances are a bun red to one
that this man was the real criminal.”

“Ah, mon Dieui” the Frenchman exclaimed. “I
do not a-comprehend, how you do arrive at dat con-
clusioni"

The police spy turned his eyes slowly u n the
face of the foreigner and surveyed him uiet y for a
moment, not with a staring gaze, but With a reflec-
tive sort of look, as if he was debatin over the mat-
ter under discussion in his own min and was con— ;
isidgé‘ing how to present the matter in its proper ;
1g . .
And yet the Frenchman did not seem to relish the '
ins ection, although it would not have been an easy
tas to have discovered an particular thing in his .
manner to indicate that su was the fact.

The girl hastened to introduce the Frenchman.

“This ggntleman, Mr. Longuevill has kindly
promised assist me in this matter.”

“ Mr. Longuevillei" observed Phenix, thoughtful- ;
l “ I knew a family of that name once. Have you
relatives at Toulon, in France, sir?"

“ No, sar," the Frenchman responded, quite stii'fly.
“I am from Paris."

“ Ah yes; well, your voice seemed familiar to me,
and I thought perhaps that you might be related to
the family I knew.”

There was a peculiar glitter in the eyes of the
Frenchman as he listened to this apparently unim-
gortant speech which it was hard to account for.

urely the words of the police spy were harmless I

 

enough.

Phenix resumed his reading:

” Barlee was accused of the murder, arrested and l
thrown into prison. On his person was found a note
in the handwriting of Ava making an appointment i
for an interview in the 0 cc at nine o’clock that 1
night, and in the note the writer referred to the se- 
cret marriage of his daughter, and nested Barlee
to be sure and meet him at the a po nled time, as
he, the writer, Wished to have a and free discus
sion in regard to the matter. ,

“ When the case came to trial, Barlee told a most
wonderful story. On the night in question he had
gone to the office in Wall street, as fir a. intment,
and had found the broker there. e man was
seated at his desk, which was situated between the
door which gave admittance to the room and the
door of a small closet where odds and ends were gen-
erall tucked out of sight.

“' he broker upon Barlee‘s entrance had
motioned him to a seat by the table and then
had vehemently demanded to know in he had
dared to secretly marry his daughter. ee had
replied as most men in such a. situation would have
replied. He described the love which existed be-
tween himself and the lady; admitted the impru-
dence of the disobedient act, and humbly asked par-
don for his share in the transaction.

“Avala had listened patiently to the recital, not
saying a word until Barlee had conclud and then

he proceeded to make known maidens the mat-
l‘.

' “His daughter, he said, was a oung. weak and

foolish r1, and already she mgnytod the rash step

which 3 9 had been induced take, for thus the

father laid all the blame upon them when, in

reality, it had been the gir sid and rleehad

only eldod to the secret union w on she had dc-
c with all the erversity of her sex that she
was to be won in the way and in no other. But the
young husband did not undertake to undeceivo the
angry father: he was content to let all the guilt rest
on his own bmad shoulders. She had repented of
her rash foil and gladly would do anything toreth
the error 0 the past, but as that was impossible,
the next best th would be to undo the knot which
had been so rash ytied, and so the broker coolly
progosed to give Barlee five thousand dollars upon
con itlon that he quitted the cit at once and bound
himself by oath not to return or'twoy and in
the meantime a divorce would be procu by the
m e.
“ Barlee rejected the pro ' he could not
ifagdaiena Avala would 0
it.

“ As proof that what he said was true, the old
man gave Barlee a letter written by the girl, where-
in she stated that all was at an end between them
and that she would never see him again.

“ Even this did not bring Barlee to consent. He
believed that the a father had forced the girl to
write the note, an that without compulsion she
would never have nned such an epislle, but the
lover-husband little new how weak, tickle and utter-
Lv unworthy of the love of any true man was the
woman he so fondly fancied.

“ Avala became enraged when he found that Bars

 

 

with the dith con uences if he persisted in his ro-
fusnl. But Barlee d d persist, and after a stormy
scene, the old man rose sudde as if intendingto
brin the intchiew to an end' arlee also rose to
his eet, but hardly had he gained astundin poni-
tion when the room was plunged in utter dominoes.
Avala, be presumed, had turned off the gas, for he
was standing within easy reach of the burner.

“ Astonished at this unlocked-for event and ump-
lng at once to the conclusion that an attac was
about to be made upon him, Barloe t behind the
table, then m was 3%?‘33611 of a alli follozed lg
groans, 0118 was no pool vo

re and fills...“ haclea that the door 0 the once
it Ich led into the hall was opened and shut. and

 

thattsome one had cautiously quittcd the open
men .

“ The groans continuing and there being no other
sound, Barlee, having matches in his pocket, struck
a. light and relit the gas.

“A scene of horror met his eyes. Extended 11 n
the floor, bleeding and dyin, was the old bro er,
and a glittering knife, stain here and there with
blood, was on the floor by his side.

“Barlee knelt by the side of the wounded man
who had been stabbed in the back—just asingle
stroke, but the blow so skillfully delivered that it
had cut a way to let out the life almost immediate

y.
“ Dazed and horror-stricken by the fearful tragedy,
he had been bending over the body when the lioe-

“, man tried the door of the office, and thin ng of

course that he could enter, had not moved from his
posxtion, having no idea that the door was loch up
on the inside.

“This was a terrible point against the prisoner
when the trial came 06, or he testified that neither
himself nor the old broker had looked the door after
his entrance. Of course this statement was not be,

lieved.

“ The theory of the defense was that old Avala. by
accident had turned out the gas, and that some foe
of his who had been concealed within the closet had
taken advent go of the eculiar circumstances of
the situation to deal the end] blow, then once.
from the room, and concealed y the darkness, ad
turned the ke inside, from the outside with a pair
of “hi pers,’ as the burglar‘s tool is called, and
shrew y calculated that the suspicion of the crime
would be cast upon Barlee.

“ Ve ingenious reasoning indeed, the wondering
world eclared but utterly improbable, and so the
jury believed, for they chose rather to accept the
theory of the prosecution, which was as follows."

 

CHAPTER mm.
mm ma non": loom

“ Nunnv Till" said the keeper of the dance-house,
reflectively, and then he closed one e e and took a
good surve of the person of the 0] trump; “ and
what migii you want with Noddy Tie my man i"

“Well, I reckon am that is in business, ain't it?"
the rough customer replied, wit a. leer.

” ou can‘t strike him for no stake, you know."

“ Who sed that I wanted to!"

“W you look like it."

1 “k121i: :5 gen’leman, I am, if I am down on my
uc '.

“Oh, of course i”

“But, honest; I‘m real old business! Oh! you
needn’t be afeardl I'm on the cross ” and the va-
grant made sundry onch signs with his hands.

“ And you want to see Noddy on business?”

‘6 Y “M?!

“ All right. Stay hero and I'll call him."

At the end of the counter was a. small door—lead-
igg 11:1er a sort of small private room right back of

e .

The saloon-kw r opened the door, stuck his head
in and excha a few words with some one with
in the room, then he turned and beckoned to the

tramp
The wt shuffled up to him.
in; ht, he expects you," Jake said; “walk

The tramp obeyed at once, and after he cute i
godsxli‘iiall apartment he closed the door carefullyrbe‘e -

n m.

Noddy Tie, the dler, as he w commoan
called,sata.tota esmoki aaliaosrtpipeanll

amusing himself by looking at o pictures in one 04

the iii no porn.
“How are ye, Hummer" said the tramp, ad
vnncin and be] ing himself to a chair by the table.
“ 0!" ex aimed the other, the e ression
upon his face tchangin ow that t 0 new-
comer was a s ranger, o eman he had
MW; “ what do you want?"

want you, my pippin, and as talkin' is
work ain‘t on going tostand something? I neg-3'
take an

stron er than wh and th
trough n at his 05m wit. 15k)" 9
“ at do you want with me? I don‘t kn—w you!"
The peddler Was an old and wary bird and naturally
sus cious.

“ ht you are, my tulip; but I reckon that we’ll
git acquainted aforo long. My name is Long Bill
rticulartoa huh-u towotldo, and i

heered to-n ght from a mate of mine that you had a
leetlenjob on hand that you might give to a good

“Where is your mate? why don‘t be come?“
“ He‘s on another lay that he thinks will pan out

better."
“Hump It was quite that the astute
Nedd was not gym satisfich
“0 ,it‘s all ht pardneri" the tram asserted.
Jestusquueuadiewithupal. ‘m on the
‘and then he again indulged inthe abolis-

tlc slian
“ ave you been u the river!”
“ Jest come from ."
“What were you ‘ centup ' for?"
“ Highway robbery."
“You don’t look u if you had
sort of thing," Nedd
" Well, I hav

P9

H I'm
cross,

the luck for that
remarked, re ivcly.

the strength, too " and then be
stretched out brown! arm and doubled up his
flat,fiiggiligcnnfl .

c you‘ do." Neddy observed, at length.
“In? me try me, pardnerl" the tram cried.
eager y. I‘m 19‘ spilin for 3, 'ob, an Idon‘t
$39.: wag of a sheep a what it s so long on the
15.70 you the pluck to stick amen?" Noddy
. o

“1 Lot yer " the tram mp0. nd rom t '
u that is, pmvided that I‘mgvell paid 1?; tKe 10536

thatthereisochanceto g _ .1 ‘
you know, to M 3‘ “my I tin t nil’xim g

u , my precious neck foolish

There wont be much danger, if you iron-

enough to keep a still tongue in your head, and the

matter can be fixed no t at you can lh'deoutci'

agaiidputforthewm junta-soon utiejobis
“I’m y mP'thotnm m rom

 not our thing. and mogonth

l

 

 

 

...._._..~...._.~. ..q.._._——--_. ...-__._._._l__....._. .

 

1?. __

a" “y > ,  -m—fi—a”

‘é‘nlx.

 

 

 

 

 

The liquor was called for, dispatched, and the two
Be on . ,

As the disguised pohce spy had ex ected, the des-
tination was the o d house by the ock, but the as-
tute villain did not conduct his companion directly
to the spot, but wznt up and down and around the
place, so that if the tramp had indeed been a stran-
ger to the locality, as he had professed to be, he
would have supposed the old house to have been a
mile at the least from the dance-house.

At the corner of the street Noddy halted, told his

v companion to remain there for a moment until he
saw that the coast was clear, and then went cau-
tiously down the street.

The tramp guessed the reason for this: Neddy did
not wish a stranger to learn the peculiar forms ne-
cessary to the openingr of the well-guarded door
which afforded access to the thieves’ den.

In a minute or two chdy returned.

“ Cum: on " he said: “ it’s all right.”

“ Go aheal: I’m fly!” responded the tramp.

He had taken advantage of the absence of his
guide to prepare the crumpled Biece of paper which
was to serve as a signal to the oy that everything
was in rea-liness for the attack, and as the peddler
o ened the door of the house and in a whisper in-
s ructcd him to follow, he, uietly and without at-
tracting the attention of Ne dy, cast the ball of a.
per down by the old boiler, and followed the ot er
into the house.

The door closed behind the pair, and the police spy
was fairliy in the lion’s mouth.

He ha a difficult part to play, and he felt that he
must act with the utmost caution, for a single false
step now most surely would cost him his life. He
was alone; single-handed he must face the enraged
and desperate outlaws, if, by any unfortunate chance

disguise should be penetrated; but this boll
lynx of the law never quailed; he had counted the
cost and determined to risk all, confident that he
would succeed.

When the door closed, the entry became so dark
that one could not even see his hand before him.

“ Follow me, straight on,” N eddy commanded.

Ten steps, and the ddler spoke again:

“ Turn to the right ere and look out for the stairs:
we are going down into the cellar."

“ All right," the disguised sgy replied, although at
this information he be 'an to e a little uneasyiu his
mind. If by any aeci out the police should not suc-
ceed in gaining admittance without exciting an
alarm, and if his agency in the matter was suspected,
he must de en! upon his own courage and skill to
defend his ifc, for it would most certainly take time
for the oifimrs to find their way into the cellar. But
then, on th 5 other hand, if this was the on] entrance
to the underground apartment, the po '06 would
most certainly succeed in ca turing the entire gang
if they gained admittance Without raising an alarm.

There was a door at the head of the stairs and an-
other at the bottom. The first door Noddy openel
himself, but at the second one he knocked in a pecu-
liar in inner, waited a moment or two and then
knocked again; and this time the knock gave out a

'metallic ring, so that it was plain the peddler had
tapped with a key, or some piece of metal, on a
metal plate fixed in the door.

The outlaws had allo ted a complete 8 stem of
signals, so that it seeme almost impossib e to sur-
prise them.

Oh! how the disguised police spy wished that he
could step outside for a few minutes and trace a line
or two ufion the crumpled paper which he had cast
down! ut it was too late now; he must go on; any
attempt to return to the street would at once have
excited suspicion; and in the power of these des er-
ate men, to excite suspicion was to court his ant
death; and so the spy was obliged to content him-
self with the hope that the officer in charge of the
police force would be shrewd enough, if he suc-
ceeded in getting into the house without an alarm,
to locate the den of rufflans.

After a moment the door opened, Neddy stepped
into the cellar, and the tramp followed.

Some eight or ten men were sitting around a table
in the center of the cellar, which was illuminated by
a single large lantern hanging from the ceiling over
the table.

The quick eyes of the sgy rapidly surveyed the
group. He was ea er to be old one—the man who
was the brains of t iese outlaws—the unknown who
signed himself Captain Shark.

CHAPTER XXIX.
ma cause. or oaownans.

WITH 3 wary eye the Holice spy scrutinized the
faces of the men within t e cellar; he behaved that
he would be able to pick out the leader of the dos.

era ioes at the first glance, but his search was a

ruitless one; either Captain Shark was not within
the apartment or else he overrated his detective
powers, for no man in sight answered his idea of the
ca tain.
he men within the cellar, who were scattered in
little groups, conversing quietly together, raised
their heads and took a good look at the new-comers.

Nedily, the i’erldler, was evidently no stranger to
them, for nearly every one nodded to him, but tha
searching looks they bestowed upon the police spy
would have been apt to have chilled the blood of
any man less daring than he, and lacking the iron
will of this bloodhound of the law.

But Phenix was as confident of the completeness
of his disguise as mortal man could well be, and not
a single tremor of fear thrilled his muscular form as
he stood, helpless and alone, a single man against a
dozen desperate villains, in the den of the outlaws.

“A new pal, he s," said Noddy, introducing the
disguised spy. “ hat did you say your name was,

mate?”
in the husky tone of
conjunction with his

 

“ Lon" Bill," replied the alpy,
voice which he had assume in
disguise.

“And a werry appro riate one!“ exclaimed one of
the gan , whose pecu iar tones su gested at once
old Lon on and the famous bells of w.

“ Are you true-blue, old man, and warranted not
to cut in the eye nor to go back on a pal in dan-
ger?" cried another one of these birds of prey.

“ Oh, you kin de end upon me!" the tramp re-
lied, earnestly. “ ’mgest the man to tie to when
t comes to trouglle. I m gntghe crossfién‘ad $2:
again the disguis spy use e mystic w
bed before been of such service to him.

 

 

“Yes, bo s, he’ll do I reckon," Nedd said, seat-
ing himsel at the tab e and motioning he tramp“
a chair. “ Bring out a bottle and give him a drin "

One of the gang produced a bottle and a lass
from a. small trun which stood in one corner 0 the
cellar and placed them before the tramp.

“Now drink success to our club, old man," Noddy
continued, “ and don‘t spare the liquor.”

“A club eh?“ exclaimed the spy keeping up his
assumed character as he spoke bf}: filling out a glass
of whisky and most certainly e obeyed the in-

unction o the peddler, for he filled the glass to the

rim and then tossed it off at a single drau ht, with-
out even so much as winking; a feat whic excited
profound admiration among the lookers-on, who
mentally admitted that the r ged and unsavory
tram had as fine a swallow as t ey had ever seen.

“ es, sir, our club, the United and Independent
Order of Growlers, and this is our head-quarters."

“ And a mighty comfortable place it is, too!" the
disguised spy exclaimed, sagely, at the same time
casting a scrutinizing lance around the cellar. He
was anxious to learn i there was any other means
of entrance into or exit from the underground den
besides the stairway which he had descended. Ap-

arentl there was not, for the rude stone wall of
he eel ar was unbroken by door or window, ex-
iceptit where the stairway from above descended
ntoi .

“ Yes my tulip!" Neddy exclaimed, with a know-
ing sh e of the head, “it is about as neat a hole as
such rats as we con“ find anywhere."

“There's only one bad thing about it,” the tramp
suggested wisely.

‘ Indee and what is it?"

The peddler was surprised by the observation, as
indeed were all the rest of the igang, and they await-
ed the tramp‘s explanation w h considerable curi-

osit .

“ Klebbe I‘m wrong though," the spy replied, with
a sudden assumption of modesty.

“Let‘s hear what you are trying to get at, any-
way!" cried one of the gang.

“ Yes, spit it out, ’cos we think that this is about
the finest meetin‘-room for gen‘lemen in our line
offlpusiness on top of this here earth!“ cried an-
0 er.

"Go ahead, pal!" sung out the peddler, encour-
agingly. “I reckon that you‘ve go chunks of wis-
dom in that head of yourn."

“ Well, furst and foremost, is there any other way
to git out of here, s‘posen a man wanted to in a.
hurroy, ’sides the way I come in?”

“ b, no, of course not!" Neddy cried, instantly,
but the keen-eyed spy noticed that the dler as
he spoke winked knowmgly at the rest 0 the ang,
and therefore on the instant he felt convinc that
there was some other outlet to the cellar besides the
staiigyva . ’1 I ,

“ 6 ,gen emen, as was a-goingtosa , 3 en
the police ot wind of this here place an gotplgisat
the ront oor and kem down the sta there, why,
yo‘ili‘d’all be caught in a trap, just like so many
ra s.‘

“ Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the peddler, and the rest
of the gang'ioined in the mirth.

“Oh, youre up to snuff, you are!" Ned ex-
clgiiged, facetiously, when the merriment sub-
51 e .

“Yes, I reckon that Long Bill knows a thin or
two!" the spy exclaimed, in exultation, preten rig
to acce t the eddler’s remark as a compliment.
“ I ain‘ gone't rough life with my eyes shot like a
uppy!’

‘0 , you‘re a downy cove!" another one of the
gang remarked.

“ You ought to have two or three ways to git out
of here somewheres," the tramp persisted.

“ We old man, to be bones with you, you ain't
the only fellow in the world that has got a. head on
his shoulders," the eddler said.

“Oh, then there 3 another way out?" The spy
was sure of it and he felt extremely anxious to s-
cover where it was situated, for he plainl foresaw
that even if the 1police succeeded in gain ng an ad-
mittance at the rout door and capturing the man
on them, thanks to the instructions which he
had given them' yet it would take some time for
them to break n the heavy door which barred the
entrance to the cellar at the foot of the stairs, and
which was so carefull guarded, and it was certain
that if there was anot er way out of the cellar, the
outlaws would easily escape while the officers were
breaking in the door.

“ Oh, yes, my 1:51pm i" Nedd exclaimed. “ So
don‘t you be alarm ; your prec ous carcass ain’t in
no danger whatsomever.“

“ But, I don’t see any wa to git out," the di ised

persisted, again in: another caret look
around at the a parently solid walls.
am the out we la hed

“ ho! you’re toofres Mister Mail!”criedaburly
ruffian; ‘ you mustn't expect to knowall the secrets
of the club afore you’ve done anything to prove
that {lou‘ve got the right kind of grit into yerl'

“O , I ain’t a-trym‘ to pry into your secrets," the
tram replied.

“ o, it wouldn‘t be health for on to do so till
we‘re Willing you should,” t e dler remar
Significantly, ‘ but take another dfink, old man, and
don’t bother yourself about how to et out. If the
‘cOps ' come while you’re here, I'll go ' to get you

$1

“Fairer nor that couldn’t be said,“ the 5 ob-
served, sententiously, and he excited the agile
tion of the 1Fang by takin another huge drinkof
the potent quor, but so nsely strung were the
nerves of the spy with excitement that the fie
3111ng no more eflect upon him thanaoxnu

a .

 

CHAPTER XXX.
CAPTAIN SHARK.

Tni: outlaws shook their heads gravelyas they
:vitnessed the wonderful drinking powers of the
ramp.

“ I reckon that you‘d break a distillery inside of a
month With that swallow of ourn,‘ one of the

i rufi‘ians gravely remarked, and n a rude chorus the

rest assented to the opinion.
:: £33 £25 'captainf lgfien in yet?"lliN.§.ddy asked.
one o 0 re
“It's ml; for  gm p
“Yes, I guess he'll be here soon."

 

The spy had listened to the conversation with in
tense interest, although feigning perfect indiffoi
ence.

Of all men in this world, this Ca tain Shark, the
unknown leader of these despera men, was the
man he most desired to meet.

“ The captain will be here soon," Neddy said, ad-
dressing the tramg, “ and when he comes, he’ll e) -
plain to on what e wants you to do."

“Oh, 'm 11 for an thing!" the sp exclaimed,
pretending to slight y under the in uence of thl
strong liquor of which he had rtaken so freely,
fithgugh in truth it had not a ected him in the
eas

Hardly had the tramp spoken when there came
two taps upon the door, to lowed after a moment]
interval by the ring t f metal u on metal.

“ That‘s the captain now, ’11 bet!" averted the
peddler,

The burly rufilan of whom we have spoken, ant
whose duty eVidently was to attend to the door, ad
vanced to the staircase and opened the door, admit
ted a tall, well-built man, closely wrapped in a (18“:
overcoat much the worse for wear: his face was coi-
ered with a black mask, over the top of which a dull
felt hat was pulled, and from under the mask a hug .
Jet-black beard escaped.

All the members of the gang bowed res ctfulll
as the man entered, and the y guess at om In
that this man, disguised with suc care, was not on]. -
the skillful leader of the band, Captain Shark in pe. ‘
son, but that he was an individual of some cons: r
quence, or else he would not have taken so much

ains to conceal his person. 80 complete! was his

dentity disguised that even the keen~ey spy we I
forced to acknowledge to himself that he won] I
never be able to ident fy Ca tain Shark if he shoul I
chance to meet him in the s reet, stripped of his d1; r

guise.

The long black beard he felt sure was false, and :t
was probable, too, that the curly black hair which
escaped from under the felt hat was also false.

The moment that Captain Shark was fairly within
the room he cast a searching glance at the tramp,
Wl'i‘iim he Eecognizedi‘ais a grangei; uponf £11110 instant.

e er, erce ng escruin 0 cos. tain.
made aste to Sitroduce the tramp. y p

“ This is the man, ca taln, that will undertake the
little job on want one," he said, slapping the
tram on t 6 back as he spoke.

“ right," the ca tain observed, in a harsth

voice, whose tones, espite the speaker’s effo s to
di e them, were extremely familiar to the earn
of t e spy, and the moment he recognized them—for:
recognize them he did at once—his heart gave a wild,
fierce lea for fey.
At last 6 he dwithin his hand the thread which
would lead him through all the mazes of the lab-
yrinth which this arch-plotter had so carefully con-
structed around and about his secret.

But, des its the nick throbbing of his pulses and
the fierce eSire w ich he felt to at once tear thq
mask from the face of Captain Shark and denoun
him, not a single trace of all this excitement coufl
be discerned in his face; he was the sleepy, stolid
half-drunken old tram to the life.

“ Sit down and e yourself comfortable, 0
man " the leader of the des eradoes continu
“and bring a little fire-water, oys, so that he ca:
wet his whistle.”

The captain took a seat at the head of the table
while one of the gang pushed a stool toward th I
tramp which he at once proceeded to take ossessiw
of, and squatted down upon at the foot 0 the now
festive board, rendered so by the appearance of an
other bottle of liquor and some lasses.

The captain poured out a sm uantity of whisk:
into his glass and then pushed the ttle over town.“
the tramp, with the remark:
flu‘l‘ 3131p yourself and don’t be afraid; don’t shlrk th
“ I won't," the spy responded, briefl , and no mor
did be, for he filled the tumbler to t e very brin _
and drank the potent contents at a 5 le swallow,
without even a wink, much to the surp se of the as-
ed rascals, who unanimously voted the tram"!
to be a first-class poison-h’ister, and they were a
good judges about this sort of thing.

The draught was potent and strong enough to u] -
set the senses of most men, even though hardenel
drinkers, but so strong was the nervous mental eas-
citement under which the spy W85 laborin that th I
fie liquor produced no effect on him at .

“ he deuce!" muttered the captain, under lib
breath, “ this fellow has got a head hke iron 1"

“That's pooty good stuff, cap’n!“ exclaimed the
tramp, carequ wiping his month With his r ed
coat-sleeve. “ shouldn’t mind owning a bar or
two of that stinger." _

“Well, now to business," the chief said, abruptly;
“I've got a little job I want done. Do you think
that ou’re the man to do it?“

“ h y, cap‘n, you kin bet your bottom dollar that
I‘m your catamount fer any kind 0‘ scratchin’."

“No matter what kind of scratchin’ it is?"

“ It don’t make a bit of difference to me no lonp M
I get 01? well paid for it!"

‘ ha ’3 your name?"

“Well, I've got- a dozen: ‘which one do you want?"
the tramp asked with a 8111'-

it Any one on like."

H Long Bi is in latest handle."

“ Long Bill? ell, that will do. You are on the

“on, I‘ve served my time u the river! I'm no
slouch you kin bet rocks on t at, and what I don‘u
know ’bout the cracksman‘s lay, ain’t worth know.
lug!" he cried. boastwa-

You don‘t seem to have rofited much by your
knowledge, to judge from the ooks of your clothes,"
Shark remarked.

“ Down on in luck. cap’n—down on my luck; the
best on us w' git that way once in awhile, ou
know, an‘ that’s why I’m up now to anything t no
offers; so jest give me a chance—that’s all I want!

int out the '0b and see how neat and workman-

ke I'll do it. hi you kin trust me, you bet!"

“Are you willin to put your head in the hang-
man’s noose?" an Captain Shark leaned over on
the table and fixed his eyes earnestly on the face of
the tramp.

" es, am i" the spy responded promptly ma
defiant? keeping n his assumed c arncter; " that
is, prov ded I am we i paid for it, and that than is a

crcs f

 

 

 

. Joe Phenix. ‘ '

17

 

1‘ '1

sight for me to t my head out ’in. Of course,
I’m no fool to the stone-jug for e, or maybe a
dance upon nothing, without seeing that there is a
fair show for my money.” .

“ That‘s understood, of course,” the captain re-
filled, with a sagacious nod of the head as much as

say that be appreciated the wisdom of the speech.

“ P’int out the job then and let me know Jest ex-
actly what you want done, and when it is to be done
and how much I‘m to t for it, and I reckon the
we‘ll fix the matter in a iffy." .

“Aha! I see that you‘re a man of business!"

“Oh, you kin jest bet I am!" _

“ Do you know a man called Walling?"

The members of the g stared at each other and
at Ca tain Shark in surp , but the tramp did not
man est any astonishment. _

“ Walling—Walling?" he repeated, refiectxvely.
“ Well, now, I think that I've heard that name some-
where, but where on earth was it?”

“Never mind; he is the man I want settled!”

CHAPTER XXXI.
AN UNEXPECTED Paocsnnmo.

Mom: and more amazed were the outlaws at this
bold declaration. Wallin , the head of the t
Ellioe force of New Yor i To coolly bar n to

ke the life of such a man as tho h he were a
mere nobody who could be knocked on e head and
tossed into the East river with as little ceremony as
if he was only some drunken countrym
ing by night, dazed and bewildered, in the dark and
deserted streets along-shore: why, the very thought
was astounding!

“Oh we I reckon that I kin do it," the tram
replied, co dentl , never betraying by the s1 h
es sign that be new who Walling was. “ ow
much am I go to git for the job and where will I
be able to find i: e man?"

“ One hundred dollars.”

“ One hundred dollars!" cried the tramp, in as-
tonishment, affecting. with rare ability, to beamazed
at the extent of the sum.

“ Yes° that's the money.”

“ 0h, in do i in course i" the say cried, quick-
ly. “ A hun dollars! Why, I stick a man
any time for ten provided there was a show for me
to git 03 without he perlice tting hold on me.”

‘ All right' it’s a bargain, t en?’

“Oh you bet!”

“ This w is the sux§rintendent of the police
department of t e city of ew York."

The blazes he is!" gasped the tramp laying back
in his chair and at Captain shin-i: with blank
dismay written on his 

And so well did the d spy act his part that
the ruflians laughed unt the '_tears came into their
eyes at his comic dismay.

“ Yes, old pal° Superintendent Walling of the
licew York’Pohce bepartment is the man I want you

tackle

“Well, really, boss, I don't know as I'm hanker-
ng arter sich a job as that," the tramp observed,

owly.

“ ut you acce ted."

. “ Yes, but I di n‘t know who the man was."

“Is it possible that when I said Walling you didn‘t

ow I meant the police superintendent? Didn‘t
you know he was the chief of the police?" demand-
ed the captain, sharply.

“I told or that ho ht I‘d heard the nave
afor but ain’t been in ew York for years. Last
time war here Kennedy war the boss,” the tramp
exclaimed.

“Then ou don’t want to take this job?"

“ five me something easier Cap.”

“ I on that you’re only a chicken-hearted ras-
cal after all," the outlaw remarked, expressing his
contempt 2y his looks.

“ No, I n‘t!" the tramp cried, sturdily. “ I'm
pluck to the backbone, but I want a show for my-
self. Why, the cove that should stick the police
boss wouldn’t have no place in this country nor in
an other; he‘d be hunted down get like a dog!"

And you don‘t care to risk it? ’

“ Not any in mine,thank you i" refined the tramp,

witha rin.
“Wefi, we'll let that job  I‘ve‘ got another
one for you, and the party 9 nothing but a police

, this time.
EX 1:)h,f I’ll Iriskhtzleist, Cap!" was the ready reply,
t a n u .
“ Somgogiffgir‘ence ligwegn the chief of police and
a coalmfrfipy, eh?"
u ’ env
“The manys name is Phenix—Joe Phenixé' you
never heard of him, I suppose?" and Captain hark
favored the spy with another glance as he put the
question, and so curious was he look—so full of
suspicion—that for amoment the spy believed his
dis had been penetrated, but he soon repelled
the id for he was cei taln that neither by word or
my on had he been incautious.
Phenix? Oh, yes, I‘ve heard of him—seen his
glider in the papers, too, though I never run across.
ma “

e n.
“ He‘s the follow I want settled." "
“ [‘11 do it, 'but how much? A hundred for him?

"No, lift 1
y you ought to make it ahundred !"

“ No; 0 fifty, and that's more than the thing is
worth.

“ But he’s a precious big teller; no small job to git
own with him." ”

“ t's so; he’s just about your eh? and as
he put the question the chief of the ou ws favored
the di lsed  with such a look that
again K: susp on that his secret had been dis-

tcovered came to the daring man with redoubled
force, and he be n to think that he had incautious—
ly t him into a trap from whence to escape
would be difficult if not im ble. But, as the pe-
°too““”i.l°°t‘ Flemish . Ema” “:3 item“:
c r m e a se cou
testedl exciept y a miracle almost, the spy breathed
n.

«230% pal, fift is quite owls” the chief con-
tinued, “and it \ .I‘l not be a cult job to get at
this Phenix for he is a foolhardy fellow, and sodner
"later he’ll be apt to rim his head into our very den
here, and then you cab-sock his goose for hintwith-

91'.

outan trouble."
“0b,, I'll do it; you can led“ cam-watts
mini reioina d

an, wander-‘

“ No doubt; and then I‘ve got another hit of busi-
nessmto attend to, and you must set abov‘ ii. to-

H
nifiI'm your man 1"

“Take another drink, for you've got a long and
dangerousij before you,” and as he spoke Shark
pus ed the~bottle over toward the tram .

Andas the 8p filled up his less 0 the brim
again, his watc ul eyes, ever on t e alert, although
apparent] taking no heed of what was gomg on
around h m, saw an expre ' of astonishment
gather on the faces of the rum 3; first they looked
in mringly at each other and then at the leader.

he quick-witted spy was not slow to guess that,
in the apparently careless observation of Captain
Shark, “ a oug and dangerous journey” before him,
some well understood signal had been given by the
leader, to his band, but that, for some reason, the
gang were in doubt how to act upon it.

The truth was plain now to the spg; he was dis-
covered, or at least suspected, and e at once pre-
pared for action.

“Drink hearty!” Shark exclaimed, after a slight
pause; “the whisky will brace you up for the long
and dangems journey before you. '

Again the signal was given, and this time the out-
law chief slightly contracted his brows and nodded,
although almost imperceptibly, toward the tramp.

With every sense on the alert, and yet apparently
as cool and unconcerned as possible, the y tossed
off the liquor, no more feelin the fiery dra ht as it
washed out his dry throat han if it had 11 so
much pure and lim id water.

“A certain man as got to be deco ed to a certain
glacex and a certain message which e e cts, will

0 it, ‘Captain Shark said. ‘ Can you w tel"

“ A little—not much."

Apparentliithe spy was giving all his attention to
the outlaw c ef, but he had his eyes about him and
noticed that three or four of the gang had quietly
risen and passed to the back of his chair.

Now he understood what the signal meant; he was
to be surrounded and seized when Shark gave the
wrgréd. In some mysterious way he had been discov—
e .

“ Well, a little will do; write as well as you can,”
and Shark pushed a scrap of pa r and a pencil over
mthe tram . “Write: All rig t; Iam insidel’ ”

The mys ry was out now; these were the very
words that the spy had written on the acre. of paper
which he had tossed down b the outside cor.

Captain Shark, instead of he police, had found it!

CHAPTER XXIII.
A DESPERATE sc'r.

Nil-van was mortal man placed in a more terrible

situation. The spy saw at once that he was sus-

e lpaper which he had cast down as a

t to the po c_e had been observed by the keen eyes

of the outlaw; he had picked it u , mastered the con-

tents and instantly suspected hat the mysterious
message referred to him and his 

The spy was fairl in the trap; here seemed to be
no way to escape; e was com letely in the wer
of these desperate rufiians—a le man ag a
dozen, and each and eve one of them a desperado
who would not hesitate a any act of violence to so
cure rsonal safety.

If t e lice wou d only come! Such was thefirst
tho ht hat flashed through the mind of the spy,
but second told him that the first rap of the
lice would be the signal for an assault upon him y
the enraged rumans, and, make as brave a fight as
he possib ye

 

could, t he was certain to be overpow-
ered and n long before the ofiicers could break in
that stout door.

In such moments of peril the active, well-trained
mind works quickly, and almost instantly the spy
decided upon a course of action.

“Write, heyi” he exclaimed, keeping up his as-
sumedcharactertothe life; "well,Iaintmuchofa
scholard but I reckon I kin do it well enough.”

“Go aiieedi" said Captain Shark, fix his eyes
full upon the face of the spy with a
as if e would read the man's veg soul.

Thespytookthe  thgreat eareand
deliberation, a capi tation of a man unused to
pe pend rather em how to go to
work, scrawled the words that the outlaw captain
had pronounced upon the paper; and a fearful at-
temp at wri it was, too.

"1 cl Sher  the plop“ and examined m
an rom e expression u

face iitgwasoment that he was uzzled; the ponhad

succeeded in completely alte the c of

his hand-writ , so that it did not bear the least re-

semblance to e inscription upon the scrap of pa-

per.

“There is no resemblance between the two, but
the fellow may be skillful enough to so his
hand,“ Shark tho ht, as he surveyed t 9 paper
with a careful eye. on a sudden tho ht occurred
to him. The paper he had found evi ently was a

leaf torn from a memorandum-book. If the tramp
was the man who had~written and drop it outside
the doc as a si to the police, he at must have

the boo in h possession. and a search would
giscfise it. The book would convict him, beyond a
on .

“Hark ye, my' man!” exclaimed the outlaw, “to
tell the honest truth, I have an idea that you are not
exactly what you seem and that your visit here
means mischie to us."

“ on, captain, how kin you think so?" and the
tram assumed an injured air quite in keeping with
his c racter.

The attention of all within the room was now cen-
tered upon him: every face wore a hateful saowl - to
be suspected was to be condemned among these} -

binds.

“ Well, ideas will get into a man’s head, some-
times,“ the leader persisted, “and, I tell you, if you
are not act on the square with us and mean mis—
chief, it was he most unlucky moment of youriife
when on set your foot in this place, for we’ll put
you ' ere the dogs can't get at you."

A erocious murmur went from ruffian to rufiian—
a sort of chorus full of dreadful meaning.

But not for a sin le instant did the sp “ show the
white feather,“ a1 hough be fully re that he
was about as near to death as a man could come and
yet live to tell of it.

 

b ca ’n; ou‘re uitewelcometo 'arch
iufiflii‘iini'hni’eu’iiu muss-mm?“

 

me as soon as on like; but I‘m true-blue, I tell
yeri" the spy ed in bravado, and genuine bravado
indeed it was, for in an inner pocket of his

coat he carried the very identical memora um-
book from which he had tom the leaf upon which he
had written the message, that, by an unlucksy mis-
chance, had fallen into the hands of Captain hark:
a search would reveal the book, which would, of
course, prove that he was the writer of the m steri-
ous sentence. Then, too, an ins ction of his

son would disclose that he was fu ly and com letely
armed' and few old tramps, no matter how esper’
ate or how lucky, carried about sixty dollars‘ worth
of revolvers around with them.

“We’ll soon settle who and what you are," the
ca tain remarked, advancing toward him.

e critical moment was at hand, and the s was
about to put into operation the daring and Him“
plan which he had conceived, when the signal knock
sounded on the door.

“ Helloi see who that is!” Shark commanded.

The sentry, whose business it was to attend to the
door, at once unbarred the portal and admitted a
stout, muscular fellow, who looked like a mechanic,
accom 'ed by a rough and to h specimen of hu-
manity whose clothes, like his eatures, were very
much t e worse for wear.

The first comer was ve well known to the out-
laws indeed, being one of t e principal members of
the ang: he was called Ta lor Bu , or Buddy the
Crac srn ashe was famHiar' ly termed. His s
cialty was nk-robbing, and he was reputed tog
as skillful a workman as there was in the country.

“Who's this?" demanded Captain Shark, closely
scrutinizing the tramp who accompanied Taylor
and jumping at once to the natural conclusion that
he was a confederate of the man already within
their den.

“ Why; he’s the man that Neddy was going to get
to do t at little job that you wanted attended to,
captain, but when he ot to Black Jake’s place to-
night, they told him hat Nedd was gone, but I
ha pened to drop in just then an run across him i"

he cat was out of the bag now, with ave ance!
"Aha!" cried Shark, and he was just a ut to
command the gang to seize the false tram , when a
pistol—shot echoed thro h the room, to owed at
once by the sudden bre {; and extinguishing of
Whom which at once p unged the room in utter

ess.

The spy had made a bold stroke for liberty.

All was confusion, the more so that there was a
desperate struggle goingeon in the darkness, the
sounds of whic could plainly heard; but this
noise was soon drowned in a vigorous attack made
upon the outside of the stout cellar door by the
batons of the police, who had entered the house at
the veg same moment that the spyhad fired the
Eistol ot which had blown off the burner of the

ntern and so extinguished the ’ ht.

The sound of the shot guided hem to the cellar,
and finding their barred by the heavy door,
they  at once commenced a ferocious attack
upon 1 .

Anticipating that some such obstacle m' ht bar
their a con le of the officers come
arm With axes, an a few well-directed blows
s lintered the door into piec and then, with cock-

nevolvers in one hand an bull‘s—eye lanterns in
the other, they rushed tumultuoust into the
thieves‘ den.

The cellar was deserted, with the exception of the
scared and astonished old tram , who crouched in
one corner, f htened out of wits, and who
begged iteo y for his life when he beheld the
sh ng ls of the revolvers. But two other
Loon were mm in ad flex-file mtgbriéosehem-

race, st oen un er e w ere
th hull-oiled.

e moment that the room was plunged in utter
darkness by the well-directed shot, the had

spru to where the outlaw chief was stan , to
seize - but the captain had eviden con ved
a similar idea, for the spy encounte a stalwart

form sooner than he anticifited, and closing in

with him had bro ht him the und where,

d ite the man’s esperate strug es, he sue-
ed in overpowering him.

But a terrible disa intment was in store for the

y, for when the {)0 cc flashed their lanterns u

e scene the ligh revealed that instead of Ca 3
Sharkhe captured the burly tor of the cor.

ain fickle Fortune had smil upon the unknown
out w chief, and but by a hair’s breadth he had ee-
caped from the man whose life's task it was to hunt
him down.

CHAPTER XXIIIL
m cans; sr man‘r.

Talescape of the rufilanswasamystery,foru
the lice looked around the cellar there was not a
sin e outlet visible.

“ andcui! those fellows!" commanded Walling,
refe to the tramg and to the burly Lanitor.
The pa ce superinten out had takenu n imself
the task of heading the expedition. for e believed
that the capture would be a most important one,
and when, guided by the boy, he had arrived at the
“ii Pit" “d n‘la‘fdlflr‘ing‘finm‘biéi” “d $21”?
w c e spy Ve as a ' 0
had concluded that it would be better to make 09
dash at once and capture the rascals already in thc
in wait for the rest.

Lu was it or the 8p that the astute police om-
cer h come to this conc usion and had at once ro
ceeded to it into effect for most certainly gal:

Walling wai the life of t e would have beer
forfeited to his rashness in ven 3" alone into thc
den of the gang.

Hallo! where are the rest?” cried Walli “ i
are these two all there were?" us, 0
“Oh, no; there were ten or twelve besides!" tho
spy answered; ‘ bring your lanterns here; there
an“ be ariotlllltlet lithe rfiar," If: Phenix rushed tn
9 back 0 e 0e as e d ncei!
mam“. a. “sham t... 1:: ” mm
u e was a t l .
an  what he one for the we] was
“ re 7» an outlet somewhere!" the s 1-
exclaimed, bafled but by no means discouraged all.)
then he flashed the lantern which he had taken 1'
the hand of one of the officers up Wt the ceiling
in search of a trap-door, but again mutiny was

 

 
   

 

18

Joe Phenix.

 

 

“Where did they go? how did they get out?” de-
manded Wallin , sternly, presenti his revolver at
the breast of t e tram , just as ' he intended to
shoot him on the spot if e did not answer.

Down upon his knees went the cowardly wretch in

an argon of terror. ,

“0h, on’t shoot! I don’t know anything about
it; upon my soul, I don’t, I never was ere aforei"
he w impered.

"Git up, you fool!" cried the big ruffian, giving
him a hearty kick; “ they’re only trying t‘ “*ser

on. They can’t shoot for nothin if t ey are cops. ‘
This fellow assumed a bold and defiant tone.

“He is a stranger, captain, and is not posted, but
the other fellow must know,” said the spy, still act-
lvely employed in searching the wall for a concealed
door.

“ Well, Ireckon that whether I know it or not,
you’ll never be any the wiser for it i" cried the
rufiian, defiantly. .

“ If you know, you had better spit it out," the cap-
tain said, sternly.

“ Well, I won t!”

“If on make a clean breast of it, maybe we’ll let
you c , or, at all events, make it easy for you,” the
police officer remarked, meanin ly.

“Oh you can’t skcer me muc ," the giant retort-
ed. “ ’m an old hand, I am—no greenhorn, you kin
bet your life on that!"

“ Aha! I have it!” the spy cried in triumph.

The ruiilan turned in haste, and an oath escaped
from his li as he noticed the sition of Phenix.

The spy ad passed round to t e front of the cellar,
and there, in the a arcntly solid wall, he had diS<
covered a door sk fully painted to resemble the
wall of which it formed a part.

“Two of on march these fellows off to the sta-
tion,” Walhng commanded, and then as the tram
and the giant were marched off by two of the o -
cers, he, with the rest, proceeded to examine the
secret door.

It was a skillfully contrived affair; the hea
lanks of which it was composed were roughed an
Bad s ams cut in them so as to resemble the joints
of the stone-work, and then had been painted so as
to exactly match the rest of the wall. It required a

ve close inspection indeed to detect the cheat.

The door was firmly fastened and resisted all at-
tempts to open it.

“Try the axes on it," commanded Walling.

The keenedged steels wielded by the muscular
arms of the o cers soon shattered the door which
was fastened on the outside by two heavy bolts.

A narrow passage. dark as the fabled sha ies of
Egypt, renowned in story was revealed.

evolvers in hand, guided by the li ht of their
lanterns. the officers proceeded to erg-Lore the pas-
figg, Phenix in the advance and W ‘ng right he-

n .

In twenty ards the passage came to a sudden end

as far as a ootway was concerned, and then three
or four feet downward the dark waters of the East
river met the eye.
. “O‘uoi I understand how they escaped now!”
Walling exclaimed, as he peered down at the rest-
less, chafing title. “ The rascals had a boat here.
See! there 5 the ring to which the painter was at-
tached! they got in, pulled out under the dock and
by this timet ey are out on the East river some-
where.”

“Can we not nrsue them?" Phenix cried, ea-
gerly. The bloc of the police sp was up and he
pan ed to overtake the men whom e had so nearly
succeeded in capturing.

“By accident we might run across them if we can

ta boat; they haven't got much the start of us,
E3: we must 1050 no time. Sergeant!" and he turn-
ed tothe officer in command of the new, “I’ll
leave six men with you here to hold the p ce. Put
a man at the door to challenge any of the gang who
may happen to stumble in, not knowing that we
have seized the fort; perhaps we may bag a few of
them. I‘ll have you relieved as soon as possible.
The rest I‘ll take with me.”

Phenix and Wallin with their portion of the force
at once hurried to t e street leavin the sergeant
and his squad in possession o the ru ans’ lair.

The pursuers at once hurried down to the dock
and proceeded out to the end of the pier.

The ni ht was quite dark but the moon which had
been bid on by dark storm-clouds was beginning to
break forth in a measure to light up the darkness of
the night.

There was a small schooner lying at the end of
the pier, and a middle- ed, thick-set sailor, smok-
gilg til. shlprt pipe, was pacmg his watch up and down

e ec .

“ Remain here, boys, and you, Phenix, come with
me," the chief commanded, and then, followed by
the spy, he commenced to clamber up the side of
the vessel.

“If they come straight out from under the dock
they must have passed near this man, and, as he
seems to be on the look-out he may have noticed
them,“ Walling remarked to Phenix, as they slid over
the bulwarks of the schooner.

The man was indeed on the alert; he had noticed
the two men invading his domain and had deliber.
ately drawn a revolver from his pocket, cocked it
and so ut himself on the defensive.

“H‘tl 0! don’t fire; we are officers!" Walling ex-
claimed, perceiving the intention of the ski per.

And the moon happening to shine out u to brl ht
just then fully revealed t e uniform o the po ice
on )tain.

‘l‘All right; glad of it; but I reckoned that you
were a con 16 of river-thieves; they are thicker
round here t an musketers in a swam .”

“ We are in search of a party of that kind; have
you seen any boat, prett well 1 ed, pass by
your vessel w thin the last n minutes?" the super-
intendent asked.

“I bet you I didi” cried the sailor, emphatically.

“Ah, you did!" exclaimed Walling, eager as a
bloodhound 0n the chase.

“Yes, sir, I was a-leaning over the counter a-
watching the sky and kinclcr meditating whether it
was oing to clear u or take a fresh start for a

when a boat, c ock full of men, and pulling
ath muffled ours, too, came ri ht out from under
my stern, but how in thunder t ey got there is too
much for me, forI never noticed them until they
slid right by me. Ithought that it was a police-
boat furst and I was a-going to bail ‘em and ask ‘om

! what they were up to, when I happened to think
that the crowd didn't look like officers, and so I had
sense enou h to hold my tongue, for I saw that
the hadn’ twig ed me and the ’spicion kinder

I flashed upon me t at they warn’t up to no good.”

i “They came from under the dock!" Walling ex-

. claimed quickly, “and they are the very party

' we’re a ter."

“Well, I kin fix you, then, for I heard ’em say
where they were gel to land.”

I “Aha!” and both t ie police captain and the spy
pressed forward eagerly to listen.

| “Yes, sir! one to lowsa 3, ‘Which way Cap? to

i Fulton orto Grand street? ‘Foller the tidei“ said
another. ‘Fiood,’ says the first chap. ‘Grand

, street, then,’ says the second, and then out into the

‘, stream the went.”

“ Many t anks, my friend. Take care of yourself,

3 for we‘ve got no time to lose!”

i And, hot after their prey, the police raced down

’ the pier.

 

CHAPTER XXXIV.
m mnoav or run Paosncu'rron.

“ ‘ Tm: prisoner, Barlee, had married in secret the
, da hter of the cotton-broker ‘ so the district-attor-
‘ ney gan. ‘ He, a cler with no means to support

a wife, excepting the sma salary which he rece ved,
had schemed and contrived until he won the affec-
tions of his employer’s daugh er, and why? Because
she was the onlylchild of a rich man and naturally
the heir to all is wealth and he was poor; there
was—and is—no disgrace in honest poverty, but for
a man to willfully entrap the affections of a young
and trusting girl, knowing that her natural ardian
would never give consent to the union, an looking
only at the marriage in a sordid spirit of gain—win-
ning the 'rl‘s consent to a secret marriage so that
he might ind her securely to him and thus acquire
some of the wealth of the father, was decidedly re-
pre hensible. ’

“ For a good half an hour at least the officer of the
law continued in this strain, making an extremely
tellin speech and bearing hard upon the prisoner,
and t on he began to sum up the pomts which, as he
frankly expressed it, left not the htest doubtin
his mind as to the lit of the ac .
ala had discovered the secret marriage and

 

‘5 6Av
had called the prisoner to his office at an unusual
hour in order to talk the matter over uietly and if
possible to filet him to consent to have e marriage
annulled. e prisoner had given his account of
what had taken place at that interview, but whether
it (vivas trued or notlwould neier betllrlnowrli'igitil tn:

u grnent ay, un ess—su posln e p ner

ave falsified in regard to tge matger—his conscience
should smite him to tell the truth. But as the
scholar—the man of learnin and of science skilled
in the lore of ages, could rem the mud of a dead
‘ and fo otten time pluck the single bone of a fish,
or repti e or beast, whose race had rished long
ago, and from that single, solitary nk construct
anew the frame and substance of the creature
whose semblance his eyes had never seen, so could
even an ordinary man, (possessed of sound common
sense, take the story 0 the prisoner, and from the
facts given therein and about which there could be
no dispute, tell all the articulars of the secret in-
terview in the lonely Wa street ofi‘lce and, unfortu-
nately for the prisoner, the recital will differ materi-
ally rom the version which he has given us.

“‘Two facts are plain: first. Avala met the pris-
oner in the office; second, that interview was ended
b the death of the old cotton-broker the father of
t e young girl whom the prisoner ha married; this
must be borne in mind, for on it our whole story
hin es. The prisoner says that Avala was annoyed
at he marriage, reg-cached him for having per-
suaded his daughter the act, and tried to bqu his
consent to the dissolution of the union. All t s is
very probable, and there is no doubt that it is the
truth' but when the prisoner relates that Avala rose,
and then that the as suddenly went out—that he
antici ted an attac —he, a strong muscular young
man, magined that the old and feeble cotton-broker
was about to menace him with personal violence, and
that he heard a groan followed by a heavy fall, and
then im ned that he heard some one leave the
room, in efiance of the fact, sworn to by a credible
witness, that the officer—the witness—found the door
locked and the key inside, thus positively preving be-

cnd even the shadow of a doubt that the door had

on locked by some one within the room and not
from the outside. Then the risoner testified that
he relit the gas, discovered Av a bleeding and in the
agonies of death upon the floor, and that while
striving to assist him the officer broke in the door.
Now look how reasonable the first part of the
story is and how utterly unreasonable and incredible
is the second! Why should Avala, an old and infirm
man, attemptto measure strength with this oung
and powerful fellow? Did be hope to free his ugh-
ter from the union which was so distasteful to h m
by murdering his son-in-lawf Impossible! The very
i ea is absurd! Mr. Avala undoubtedly was a hot-
headed, petulant old man somewhat arrogant by
nature and accustomed to havin his own way, and
there is not the slightest doubt t at he was fearfully
enraged at the secret marriage' and, acce ting the
prisoner’s idea—that the cotton-broker m tated an
attack upon him—that the attack was made, who
could ossiny have stuck the fatal blow but this
man w o is now on trial? The risoner in his story
strives to bring a third party in the affair—a mys-
terious, shadowy, ghost-like personage whom he
does not even pretend to have seen but he thinks
that he heard a sound—after the fatal blow was
struck that robbed the aged Avala of his life—a
sound like some one gliding across the apartment
and quitting the room. No doubt in the terrible mo-
ment that succeeded the giving of the awful blow
that stole a human life away, the guilty man whose
angry assions urged him to the fearful deed, heard
all so of sounds and saw shado arms out-
stretched in eve direction to seize h mi But we
will dismiss this p antom of a diseased mind—this
unsubstantial man, seen by no one, heard b one
human being only, the risoner at the bar you er, to
whom it is of life and eath importance to prove—
which of course he cannot, exce t by v e imagfiry
—that there was a third man n that one] o co
when Avala received his death-wound—we‘ll ave no
mom,l say, of this \‘islziriikc human who glides

 

 

like a ghost in the darkness, passes through doors
and then locks them after him cn the inside!

“ ‘ Come we now at once and without unnecessary

detail to the story which should have been told had
the truth been spoken: The prison. and the old
cotton-broker were alone together; they quarreled
about this secret marriage; the father Wished the
young mantc ve up the girl whom he had en-
rap , and e obstinately refused; from words
they came to blows—the exact truth of the matter
it is not robable that we shall ever know in this
life—an then, in one rash moment, the younger,
stronger man of the two used a knife—and the bloody
deed was done !'

“The speech of the District Attorney roduced a
profound impression, and it was quite p in that all
Within the court-room believed that the case would
go ainst the prisoner, and so it did. The jury
were ly absent an hour, and when the return-
edto the court-room their verdict was: ‘ uilt of
murder in the second degree ' but coupled wit a
recommendation to mercy. It was uite evident
that the jury believed that the blow h been struck
in the heat of assion, and that the crime was en-
tire] hunpreitna itated. h b th as

‘ e sen nce impos owever, y e in e,
was imprisonment for life. 5

At this point the police spy paused abru tlyin
the reading, although there were some ten or teen
more pages to the book.

The i looked at him inquirineg, and the French-
man, a though pretendln to be rather fatigued at
the long account, watch the face of the spy nar-
row! out of the corners of his eyes.

‘l‘mdave you read thisb00k through, miss?" the spy

H No sir.”

“ Did ou stop at this int!"

And enix held up e book showing that the
last few pages were securely fastened together by
a thread pamed thro b their centers, and on the
first page of the few us strangely fas , was
the inscr ption:

“ Not to be read except by some nt of justice
detailed to ferret out the full partculars of the
death of Jose Diego Avala and by so doing to make
1e'ni‘arrliifes't to all the world the innocence of Gilbert

ee.’

“ Yes, sir."

Despite the self-command of the Frenchman he
could not prevent his face from betraying the inter
est which 6 felt.

“3"%’..”“’.i¥"£’h°"’.:i?’d' to a

“ e y, or we u n on m 0
known the truth. " p0 y

With his penknife the spy rem0ved the thread and
opened the pages which ad concealed their secret
so well for so many years.

“ Pardonime, mm?“ I"  thte1 Frenich-
man, rce ving t e po ce spy no nten to
read fife rest of the book aloud, “ would there be
any objection in allowing dis lady and myself to
hear ze grand secret! Ze interest we take is heart
felt I assure you."

“No doubt, numkur,“ replied the very, raising hit
eyes from the book and fixing them t a pone rat:
ing gaze 13?]! the face of the Frenchman; “ but
from the gle sentence that I have already read I
am sure that it would be decided] for the best that
the secret statement of the book ould be known to
me alone.”

“ 0b, of course!” cried the Frenchman with an
expressive shrug of the shoulders, which p re-
vealed that he was not pleased with the decision,
“ you are no best Judge, but ze thought to me oc-
curred that if dis ladle and in self were fully intm
ducgd to all so facts,wemig t beable you toaid;

“ I do not think so," Phenix re lied d U.

“I am not at all curious!" A a hagened to ex.
claim. “ Act your own pleasure, sir. I am sure
that you know what is for the best."
thPhtgg: bowed silently and resumed his perusal of

e

XXIV. I
new AT uni

Tux minutes at least the police sp occupied in
the perusal of the remaining tpage: of t e memoran-
dum-book, and during this 'me both the French-
man and the girl watched him with anxious e es,
although the man affected an indifference whic he
was far from feeling. ‘

But if either of the two imagined that in the face of
the detective could be read the impression reduced
upon him by the book, they were deci ly mis-
taken. The face of a marble statue could not have
been more non-commit

The reading ended, the spy closed the book and
placed it upon the desk before him.

“ The production of this book, and the etc it
tells after so many years have elapsed since he
time of the tragon which it relates, is one of the
wonderful thi t t are continually hap in
this world," 9 spy remarked, refiectiv . l'l‘qi'ho
old adage says, ‘ Murder will out,’ and it sometimes
comes quite true."

" There is hope, then, that the unfortunate man
who died in Sing S will have his innocence made
manifest at last i" A alia exclaimed, anxiously.

“ More than hope—to my mind it is a certaintyi"

“ Aha! db is {rand ood news!“ the Frenchman
exclaimed. rub ing s hands together in a very
gleeful sort of we , and yet there was an expression

fie eyes that d not seem to correspond with his
wo s.
“ ere is very little doubt in my mind now in
ard to the matter; this book gives a clew to the
w ole mysfirfl."
“Morbe at possible?" and the eyes of the

Frenchman looted upon the book as though he
ivaiuld have you much to have been possessed of
scene

“ The murder was not committed by Mr. Barleef"
the rl asked.

“ o, miss; he was as innocent of the crime as ou'
are, or this gentleman here,” and Phenix bow to
the Frenchman, who looked at the police spy in a
very strange way out of the corners of his eyes for

. mm min i an: is r h cases
“ woea oneotosestran

which the world at large thinks are only to 5: found

inthotalogoftheromancerortho stage fictions of

 

 

 

 

,.,_ _..._ -W—___. .___ ._ -

 

Joe Phenix.

19

 

the pin. wriiht, but which, in truth, exist more often
in real life t an in the mimic world of the novelist
and the dramatist. Truth is stranger than fiction,
despite the popular belief to the contrary. A stran-
ger and more carefully-planned murder than this
case of Avala exists not in the criminal annals of the
world, and it is no wonder, considering the precau-
tions taken by the guilty man, that he succeeded in
disguising his action in the matter and m—what
was more difficult still—thromngIthe entire res on-
sibility of the foul deed upon t e shOulders 0 an
innocent man. But, in s ite of his careful and
cunning plans—in spite of t e fact that for twenty
years he has succeeded in keeping his_dark deed
concealed from the light, the information that is
contained in this book will enable me to drag him
forth from his concealment of lies and hold him up
{0 all the world as the criminal and murderer that
is is!”

“Aha-l ze prospect is splendid—magnificent. Ah!
Monsieur Phenix, ze authorities knew what they
were about when they made ze police 5 y of on! ’
the Frenchman exclaimed. “Monsieur rlee one
innocent man, then ?“

“Yes, sir.”

“And ze real murderer is known, eh?"

“ Yes, the real murderer?" Adalia‘ repeated.

It was plain that their curiosity was gently
Excited by the positive announcement of t e de-

active.

“ The real murderer was a man who was concealed
in the room when Barlee entered—concealed rob-
ably in the closet in the wall by the desk, an who
took advantage of the gas being extinguished to
strike the fatal blow wh ch ended the eXistence of
the old cotton-broker.”

“ Then the risoner‘s belief that some one left the
room in the arkness was correct?" Adalia asked. .
. “No doubt about the matter at all,” Phenix
replied, positively.

‘Ahai but ze ocked door—2e door locked and 26
kc upon ze inside!" the Frenchman exclaimed.
“ ou remember ze evidence of ze police officers
who burst open ze door?”

“If my theory in regard to the tragedy is correct
that is easily explained," Phenix answered. “ I hap-
pen to be very well acquainted with all the details of
his matter, and now, since I have become possessed
of the information Igiven in this book, I am able to
give a shrewd and believe accurate, guesn at the
true history 0 the mysterious crime. Avala having
learned that his clerk was married to _his daughter
summoned Barlee to meet him.at his office at an
hour when the buildingmin which the'offlce was
situated and the neigh rhood in which it was
located were certain to be deserted. If the old man
wished to see Barlee merel for the purpose .of
talking the matter over an striving to induce him
to consent to a dissolution of the secret union, why
was such a place and such an hour chosen? Any
time would have answered—any place where the

 

interView would be secure from interruption. But a

if, on the contrary Avala intended to use force if
{oei‘suasion failed—if he meditated Violence, then the

4011er oilice in the deserted neighborhood at such an ,

hour was the very place and time.

time of the trial was scouted as ridiculous, for
Avala was no match for Barloe, but the existence of
an unknown man, armed of course, concealed in the
closets, puts an entirely different face upon the
matter. If Barlee had been able to prove that there
was a man concealed in the closet, then the sudden
extinguishing of the gas, no doubt throu h design
and not by accident, by the oil in in, Won d clearly
lead one to the belief that it was to enable the man
within the closet to attack Barlee and take him
at a disadvantage.” _ I

“ Ah, yes, but he did not attack him—lie did attack
l8 old man, according to our theory!’: the French-
man cried, quickly, andi was uite evident, des ite
the fact that he was not as familiar With the Eng ish
language as he might have been, that he had‘ mis-
tered a l the details of the trial and tragedy. I Why
Ihould ze man attack ze master and not ze Victim,
eh? how ex lain ’ on that fact, monsieur—he mates
ze mistake n ze ark, eh? discover ze mistake—in ze
dark too—run away and locked ze door behind hm?
Dat s, dis man on ze outside do lock ze door fro n
he inside, eh?” and the Frenchman leaned forward
at the end of his 3 each and peered With curi )'13
eyes at the face of t e detective, as if annousto see
how he would get over the knotty pomts which he
had raised. "

“ No, there was no mistake about the matter,
Phenix replied, in his cold, matter- of -fac_t wav.
“ The tool struck the master who had hired him; he
did it knowingly purposely, then quitted the room
locked the door behind him by means of a air of
strong pincers with which he grasped the en of the
key outside of the door. It is a common trick
among hotel thieves to unlock the door of sleeping-
chambers from the outside b the aid of pincers so
as to get at the valuables wi bin, and on this occa-
sion the same trick was used although in a different
way. Then, in the street, the man gave the alarm
to the first om :er he met, knowing that Barlee
would be discovered with the wounded man, and
that, under the circumstances he would most surely
be charged with the cominitta of the crime.

“ The mm in the street then who gave the alarm
but who was never seen again was the real murder-
er?” Adalla exclaimed, excitedly. H

“ Not the slightest doubt about the matter. ”

“Ah. but 23 reason, my g friend, ze reason l_

the Frenchman exclaimed; “men do not comimt
,mur-lers without reason.” ‘
‘ “This statement reveals the reason to me, ‘ Phe-
nix replied, holdi up the memorandum-book,
“‘ and so certain am that I shall succeed in bring-
ing home the crime tothe real author .of the deed
that I‘m willing to stake all that I have in the world
that, within one little mont I'll have the real
criminal in jail. That is all I can say now;
leave me your address and I will notify you when
there is occasion.”

The girl ave her place of residence, and then, ac-
compani by the Frenchman, withdrew. It would
be hardto say which of the two was most

CHAPTER XXXVI.
A pasraa ma STRUGGLE.
mmiinn hm; rm . -' ' w: as fast u possible

anxious w i'cacu the pic: before an action

Of course the ‘
theory of violence on the part of the broker at the ‘

 

land, so as to be able to receive them in a proper
manner.

But the river rats pulled lusty oars, and, aided
the current, had made quick time, so that when the
guardians of the night came with stealthy caution
up1 the dock they suddenly e countered the outlaws,
w 0 had landed, made fast t eir boat and were pro-
ceeding shoreward in blissful ignorance that a foe
was so close upon them.

Dark. was the night, et it did not shield the police
from discovery One sen-eyed fellow cau ht sight
of the uniformed line stealing along the doc and he
at once gave the alarm.

“ The cops, by blazes!" he cried.

And then came the stern command from the 1i 3
of the leader of the outlaws, desperate Capta n

hark.

“ Break through them, and each man for him self 1”
he cried.

“ Surrender, surrender!" shouted Walling, hardly
able to believe that the fellows seriously contem-
plated resistance.

But the outlaws answered the summons by a des-
perate attempt to break through the police lines,
and for a few minutes there was a violent struggle.
The officers outnumbered the thieves nearly two to
one, but they had to deal with desperate men and
soon the hce discovered that they had no easy job
upon the r hands.

Each and every one of the outlaws was armed and
the fellows did not hesitate to use their weapons.

As the thieves advanced each officer attempted to
clutch the man nearest to him and as it happened

two burly fellows "reached" for the outlaw eader,
Ca tam hark.
odging quickly he evaded one only to find him-

self in the grasp of the other. With the desperado
it was not a time to stand on trifles, and in a twink-
ling _he thrust the muzzle of the cocked revolver he
carried against the breast of the policeman and
pulled the trigger.

It was a bloody and violent deed!

With a single moan of gain the officer released
his hold and, staggering ack, fell bleeding and
senseless.

Ca tain Shark had added another crime to the
long ist for which he was already responsible.

Belie ' the outlaw chief to be secure in the
hands of t e man who had grasped hi the other
ofllcer had turned his attention from m and es-
sa ed to seize another one of the thieves, and as the
fe ow dodged the officer and Is turned to pursue
him, he saw the flash of a pistol, heard the moan of
pain from the lips of the wounded policeman and
saw him reel, stagger and fall; in he haste then he
rushed after the murderer.

Another dark form, too, joined in the pursuit; the
police spy had_been on the look-out for the outlaw
chief, and the instant he heard the report of the pie-
tol, a icion seized upon him that it was the re-
port of S ark’s wea n which he heard, and so, at
once he flu the to ow whom he had seized into
the ands o the nearest officer and immediately
joined the pumuit.

Some three or four more of the fellows, in addition
to the outlaw leader had succeeded in breaki
through the line, an were running for dear life,
hotly pursued by Walling and the policemen who
were not burdened with risoners.

{LET  3’2”? “it?” Alfiiim'mfp
o ungs, u no a o ew o,
for the r0 es 0 ran the Elgar.

One an all of t e rascals had selected the river
street as an avenue of escape, as it was both dark
and deserted.

Fast ran the thieves and fast the officers followed.
They did not try any pistol practice, for they knew
we enough that the chances were ten to one that
they would not succeed in hittingtheir men, and to
fire would only retard the ursui .

The thieves were runn ng in the center of the
street, and when the came opposite to the entrance
to the next dock to t 3 one upon which the struggle
had taken lace, the out] w leader suddenl turned
and darted down the pier, while the rest ept on,
evidently preferring to rust to their heels for safety
in the street.

“ One of on come with me i" the lice spy cried;
he was in t 9 van of the pursuers. ‘ Two of us can
handle him well enough, altho h he is doubtless
armed tothe teeth and will fig t to the death be-
fore he allows us to capture him, for he has put his
head in the noose by this night's work i"

The nearest officer followed Phenix, while the rest
kegt on in chase of the fleeing gang. I

p the pier at the top of his speed ran the fugi-
tive, while fast behind followed the two ursuers
pistol in hand. They had an idea that at t e end of

he pier the desperado would turn and make a bold
fight for his life, and so as they came on the slack-
ened their speed slightly, cast a careful g nce at
their weapons, for they anticipated a bloody
gongict and were determined to be prepared

or t.

But. to their utter surprise, the desperado, u n
reachin the string-piece of the pier at the on of
the doc , never turned, but dropped on at the end
of it into the water.

A cry of amazement came from the lips of both
the pursuers as thelj; beheld this une cted act.

A few seconds ter they, too. 331 upon the
string-piece, and with their cocked revolvers in their
hands, glared down upon the surface of the inky
tide. They looked to see the head of the fugitive
emerge from the dark waters, but to their utter sur-
prise not a trace of their man could be seen.

“ He must be under the dock!" the policeman
exclaimed.

The dock was an open one at the end, and the
spiles could plainly be seen.

"Well I can‘t understand this move,” Phenix
said. “If he has sought concealment under the
dock, and he can’t have gone an where else, he
must be two-thirds under water an as he can‘t get
out without being captured while we are here, all
we have to do is to remain, and he'll either have to
surrender or drown.”

“ That‘s sol” cried the 1policeman.

“ But hold on!" cried P enix, suddenly; “ perhaps
his idea is to swim from he to lie under t e dock
and make his way to the d w e we are watching
for him here."

t of that!"

“ yhookeyi I never the
“'1‘ ore maybe a ladder on One more“, by

 

 

means of which he can climb up. Suppose yougo
and see while I kee watch here. ’

“ All right, Cap,‘ and then the omcer hurried ofl,
while Phenix proceeded to examine the sides of the
dock, thinking perhaps that the fugitive might be
clinging to a spi e somewhere, but his examination
was a fruitless one.

And where was the desperate leader of these des-
peradoes bold Captain Shark, all this time?

As we have described, he had dropped from the
end of the string-piece into the dark waters beneath,
spreading his arms out fan—like to break the force
0 his fall, and then he had quietly, and almost
noiselessly, addled himself in under the dork until
he reached 6 second row of spiles, to one of which
he clung, and so near was he to the two men on the
dock above that not a word of their conversation es-
ea d his ears.

aptain Shark

und his teeth together in vexa-
tion as he listen

to Phenix’s low, calm and clear

nes.

“What demon was it that ut this man u on my
track?" he muttered; “and w y does he f0 ow me
so persistently? He trails me like a bloodhound.
Can he suspect my secret? Who and what is he?
His voice and face both seem familiar to me, and
yet I cannot remember to have ever met him before.
A good enius, too seems to watch over him; twice
already ave I led his steps to death‘s door, and
both times, by a miracle almost, he has escaped me'
the third time, though—" and the b ' and paused
abruptly and set his teeth firmly toget er; already
in anticipation he gloated Over the death of the
police spy, for the moment forgetful of the fact that

e was a hunted fugitive, whose life hung on a
thread, as it were.

And while the two omcers of justice on the pier
above were speculating regarding his whereabouts,
the desperado was preparing for action.

With the utmost caution, so as not to make a
noise, he removed the boots he wore, took his hand-
kerchief from his pocket, rolled it into a rope, tied
one end to each boot, and then slung them over his
shoulders.

By the time this was accomglishedf] the policeman
had departed on‘ his mission own t e pier, and the
3py had commenced to examine the sides of the

The outlaw waited until he heard Phenix walk to
the lower side of the dock, and then he carefully
swam out on the up r side and headed for the pier
where the fight taken Soon he disap-
peared in the darkness, e from discovery, even

Phenix’s sharp eyes. He reached the other pier -
t e police were busy with their prisoners at the
shore end—unfastened the boat, and, clinging to it,
allowed it to drift up the river with the tide.

Once again Captain Shark had escaped capture.

CHAPTER XXXVH.
Ami vinE‘ait°p“3n°‘”h”ii“°me Adallaand
ea ce e - uar rs
Elie Frenchman proceeded st ht tothe home of

e

Very little conversation was there between the
two on the road, for the girl was meditating over the

history of the unfortunate Barlee: and the
man, too, seemed ve much reoccupied.

At the door of the cues w ere Adalia resided the
pair halted. Monsieur Langueville excused himself
ea ng that he had some im rtant business on hand
w ich required his imm 'ate attention, and that
he wouldcall the next day to learn how matters were
progressmg, although he had very little hope that

he detectives would succeed in their task, for as be
explained, it was a very common thing for these
bloodhounds of the law to promise very much more
than they were able to perform; then he departed.

Adana entered the house and the Frenchman
sauntered on up the avenue, his face gloom with
anxious thoughts and his brows knitted ioget er.

“1am workin in the dark," he mutte using
now most excel ent English and king wit out a
trace of foreign accent. “What cos it all mean? I
am wande bhndly on like a man under the in-
fluence of a ideous nightmare, but in m soul I
feel that my steps are tending toward a down
which, despite myself, I must plu e todestruction.
Who is  policispth iot’l(i)ke a fearful
specter, s p so a ru y n m path

aveI taken into my hands Sic sword of justice
only to divert the point against my own breast? I
am walking on dangerous ground; at an moment
the earth may open and swallow me up! iat shall
I do? What steps shall I take to avert the danger?"

He paused on the comer of Fourteenth street as
he ut the question, and in a moody, abstracted way
loo ed around him' with no es ial purpose, just
by sheer accident, he happen to look down the
street, and the re of a man, standing before the
window of a jewe er's shop and apparently intently

' the treasures so lavishly displayed within,
can ht his eyes.

e man was a medium-sized, plainly-dressed fel-
low with nothing about his person to attract par
ticular attention as far as any one could see at a

glance, and yet the moment the Frenchman
set eyes upon him the suspicion flashed at once iutc
hlisamind hat the fellow was a detective in plain
c 0 es.

There was a certain someth about the man—an
air that he could not d so, or he was not con
scious of it, which serv to indicate his professio!
to the skilled judgment competent to decide upor
these delicate matters, just as one used to the man
ners of wastage-amber: generally indicate then-
in private life rom their “Xemllar carriage and th:
0d movement of the he arisin from ong prac
tice in attitudinizing before an au ence.

“Iam spotted,” he muttered, takin his eyes oil
the man after glaring at him, so as no to excite the
detective’s suspicions and reveal to him that his lit
tle game was discovered. “Now, what does this
mean? What is he after me for? Can it be possible
that I am suspected ? It seems incredible; but I’ll be
pagan first that it is a fact before I begin to speed

a upon 1 ."

So the Frenchman strolled on leisurely up th
street, taking advantage of max possible incidei
to glance around once in a w ' without exciting
the suspicions of the spotter.

“1:12.: mane was after high, bpt evidently remll alpine
, 9 near one to ca.)
him in debt. y “g

 

m.< .v—m—_.’ WNW

.._....—- ._.

.__.__—~..<.

 

.._.. “W. . .-.~—..-... -w_—-WW ._—... r...

20

“ I must determine whether he really is after me or
not,” he muttered. “It will never do to allow
myself to be frightened at a shadow. If I am
watched, then I must be on my guard. The blows
have been falling thick and heavy lately and it
begins to look as if the end was near at han . Well,
a man can live comfortabl almost anywhereif he
has plenty of money, and al the world is open to me
for a choice. First, to make sure that my suspicions
are correct; and then, if they are, I will s )eedily
take measures so that I can laugh at this blo ound
of a police spy and all his gang.”

At First avenue the Frenchman turned abru tly to
the left and walked down the street, but 11 the
middle of the block he turned suddenly. just as if he
had abruptly made up his mind to take another
course, and walked up the street again, encounter-
ing the spy, face to ace, as he had expeced, but
gassinghim by without takin the slightest notice of

im. twas no part of the ‘renchman’s policy to
allow the detective to perceive that his game was
discovered.

At the corner Monsieur Langueville crossed the
street and again proceeded up Fourteenth street
toward Second avenue.

Half-way up the block he crossed over, thus being
enabled to get a view of the street behind him with-
out appearin to be anxious to do so.

The detective was saunterin slowly along with
his hands in his pockets just as t e dogged man had
expected.

‘ Now, I think that we have played this comedy
long enough and we’ll bring it abruptly to an end, '
he murmured.

A huge block of tenement houses lined the street
on the upper side, the basements of which were
occu ied by small stores, lager beer shops mostly,
and into one of these places the Frenchman went-
he nodded to the pro rietor, just as if he was an old
customer, and passe at once through the store into
the yard behind, then up the back-stairs into a
tenement house and up the stairways in the building
until he gained the roof and then it was an easy
matter to pass from one flat roof to another, as they
were all about the same hight, until he got to the
corner house, in which he again descended to the

root.

And while he was assing from roof to roof he had
taken a sly pee ) own into the street, and there,
sure enough, jus as he had expected, was the spy
sitting down upon a door-stoop, nearly opposite to
the lager beer saloon, pretending to be deeply
e aged in the perusal of a news a r.

he Frenchman smiled scorn yashe emerged
into the street again and saw the spy still occupied
in his fruitless watch.

“ Stay there, my friend until you grow into the
stonei‘ he murmured. ‘ Neither you nor any of
your bloodhound gang will ever trail me through
the streets of New York again!" and turning into
the avenue, he proceeded rapidly up-town.

The spy, who y the way was om Irving, reputed
to be one of the best men on the force, waited for

.about twenty minutes, and then perceiving no signs
at the man he was after, determined to visit the sa-
loon himself.

Of course his enterin and drinkingaglass of lager
would excite no suspic on, and if his man was there,
he could easily feign an excuse to remain.

And so the spy passed into the saloon, called for
his lager and upon discovering that his man was not
in the place, proceeded to carefully “pump” the

re netor.

Pgecious little information he received from the
stolid German. The man had forgotten all about the
stran er passing through the saloon.

“ y beeple dot in de housen live do do ," he

said.

‘ And so the detective was forced to come to the
conclusion that either the Frenchman occupied
rooms in the house, in which case it would bean easy
matter to lay hold of him at anwime, or else that
he had discovered that he was ing followed and
had skillqu evaded the chase.

Which of he two theories was the correct one the
detective was unable to say, and so in the dilemma
he thought the best thin to do was to proceed to
head- uarters at once an lay the whole matter be-
fore P cnix.

Prom tiy he acted upon this belief, and thus, in-
side of alf an hour, the police spy was in possession
of all the facts in the premises. ’

Phenix was not long in coming to a conclusion.

“ He discovered you or else be suspected that he
would be followed and took measures to throw any
tracker of! the scent“ This man is no common
rogue and if we are not careful he will beat us af-
ter all, although at present We seem to have him
prett well in our net. I’ll see the irl to-morrow
and ad out what she knows about h m. I may be
able to gain some important information from her.
I would go at once, but I have too much to attend to

And it was on the evenin of this same day that
the excitin scenes in the t ieves’ den and along the
dacks, as stalled in our previous chapters took

cc.

The next morning about nine o‘clock Phenix set
out to visit Miss Adalia Cummerton.

He found the girl at home, but had hardly pro-
ceeded to eXpiain his business when there came a
rap on the door, and a civil-spoken gentleman, when
the rl answered the knock, in uired if Miss Cum-
me n lived there, and said the he brought a mes-
sage from Monsieur Laugueville. .

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
ran omens.
“A MESSAGE from Monsieur Langueville?" Adalia

to u- .

Wes, miss,” said the man' “ he has unexpectedly
been called out of town on businem, and it is prob-
able that he may not retum for two or three weeks;
therefore he desired me to tell you to proceed in the
business in which you are engaged just the same as
if he were here.“ ‘

“Yes, sir, ' Iim girl replied, somewhat astonished
at the unexpected news.

“When he returns he will call on you at once."
And then the man bowed and took his departure.

The police spy, whose presence in the room was
entirel unsuspected by the messenger, as the open
door not reveal him to the ass of the man,
looked when the so of the fellow's

 

Joe Phenix.

voice fell upon his ears, and his face betrayed still
more amazement when he listened to the memage.

Adalia closed the door and returned to her seat,
but Phenix was on his feet at once.

“ You must excuse me for a short time, miss!" he
exclaimed, quickly' “for I fancy that I shall have
some business With that gentleman who has just
departed. Did you ever see him before?"

‘ 'ever.”

“ He is a stranger to you, then?”

“ Yes sir; a total stranger.”

“ And this Frenchman, Langueville, how long
have you known him, and how did you become ac-
quainted with him?”

“He is a stranger, too; I never saw him before
as; morning upon which we called at the police
o co.”

“ How did you become acquainted with him?"
Phenix Spoke hurriedly and moved toward the door
as he conversed.

“He was sent to me by a Mr. Percy with whom I
am acquainted, and whose half-brother he is "
Adaiia re lied, a slight tinge of color appearing n
her pale c eeks as t e mention of the man’s name
brought back to her recollection the uliar rela-
tions existing between herself and the ohemian.

‘ Percy, a broker?" cried Phenix, (Perceiving at
once that he had unwittingly stumble upon a ciew
tothcle (Cilark and terrible mystery which had so long

uzz e .
p “ No, a writer, I believe; in fact, I do not know
much about him, except that he used to live in this
house, find that he professed to be a great friend of
e.
“ And where is he now?"
“ Gone to Eumfif."

“ Aha! and in s absence he said that this man—
this Frenchman, Langueville, would re resent him?”
cried the solice spy. his hand on the cor-knob, all
readyto e . He had guessed at once the
secret of the hemian’s absence.

to s r' I

“I must away at once now or my bird will escape
me; but as soon as I havesecuredhimlwillreturn,”
and Phenix was 03.

Reachin the vement he did not hesitate for a
moment then the figure of the man could not
be perceived, bu started at once up the street.

‘ This is the way he should go, ‘ he muttered, as
he hurried along, “ and if he has any other business
to take him down the street instead of up, why, it
doesn't matter much; I know whereIcanlay my
hands upon him at any time. I thought that I could
buy the fellow, but i is quite evident that the head
of the gang has outbid me. Well, since money has
failed we’ll try what force can do.‘

Half-waymup the block Phenix encountered the
detective, ng. ‘\

“ Hallo!" he cried; “you’re the very man! want!
One of our birds is on ahead, somewhere, and I‘m
going to lock him u for a time."

“All ht, I’m th you,” the detective re lied.

“ You ad better get a coach, for I fancy t at the
fellow will resist, as I haven‘t an warrant for his
arrest and am merely ‘ snatching ’ In on suspicion.

“ We can clap the bracelets on him, throw him
into the coach and be oi! before any one can inter-

ere."

“ Keep your eyes on the street and hail the first
coach you see. 'm plafving a bold c this time;
I’m going to seize this ellow and f hten him into

confession. It‘s the only way to o the job; the

sad of the gang has covered up his tracksso well
that we’ll never be able to get a real good grip upon
him without some one of the band turni informer. "

“ And do you think that this fellow w om you are
after will do it?"

“ Yes, I think so I lmow pretty well what kind of
a man he is, and I know so much of the gang’s his-
tory, and can guess at so much mo that when I
open my batteries upon him, he w surely think
I am in possession of all the facts, and in order to
save himself from going up the river to Sing Sing,
he will be pret certain to make a clean breast of it.

at on if he will turn State’s evidence?”
to  is

"Do you see him?" asked Irving guessing by the
look upon the sp 's face that he so.

“ Yes; that re. or short, thick-set fellow in dark
clothes, ust ahead of that woman in the redshnwl.”

“ ht; I’ve spotted him.”

" Get your back as soon as you can."

“ Here comes one now, and I know the party, too.”

“ Is be all ht?”

" Oh, yes; I ve had him on one or two jobs like
this before. ‘ Then the detective ste ped out into
the street and hailed the coach. Brie y he explain-
mr; as is“; in new "steaks
n on ; um up on e x,
driver turned tbs:18 coach around, and then up the
street theynwent, keepinglin close to the curbstone
and right the rear of t e police spy.

The messenger kept straight 0 never even tak-
ing the trouble to turn his head to 00k behind him,
so totnll unsus icious of danger was be, until he
reached entie h street; then he turned the cor-
ner and headed toward the west side of town.

The side street was an admirable one for the

urprotsbei of the detective, being quiet and almost

ese .
When the man turned the corner, Phenix nodded
toIrving. and the astute detective understood the
lIliiai at once and comprehended the duties desired

0 m.

He gave his instructions to the driver, who whip-
ped up his horses, drove round the corner into the
side street passed the man who was countering
leisurely along with his hands in his pockets,
head bent down in meditation, never taking the
s htest notice of his surroundings

alt-way up the block the coac came in close to
the curbstone and halted, when Irvin jumped from
the box, opened the coach door an then walked
across the sidewalk, and, lesni against the iron
railing, looked up expectant.in a the door of the
house, just as if he was w ting for some onsto
come out.

Phenix, advancing with noiseless steps, overtook
the man just as he the detective.

The spy laid his hand abruplt‘lnyhupon the shoulder
of his rey, much to the auto ment of the latter.

“H 1;, my friend!” he said; "I'vegotafcw words
to say to you."

The man stopped and stared in surprise.

 

_
1

“Well, what is it?" he said.
Pheitilx drewa legal-looking document from his

poSke
I’ve a warrant here for your arrest.”
:: #rrest i’z‘cried the man, utterly astonished.
es .

“ !,And for what—upon what charge do you arrest
me '

“ Murder."

The man's under jaw drop , and for a moment
or two he stared in great onishment in the face
of the police spy.

“ Come along,” continued Phenix, producin a pair
of handcuffs; “ and I warn you to be caref what
you say, as it will be used in evidence against you."

“ Murder?” the man, evidently for the mo-
ment unabletto {)ei'ealize that he was under ar-
rest, and mchned to lieve that there must be some
mistake in the matter.

“ Yes, sir, that’s the ch ."

“ You arrest me for m er—whose murder-who

are on?”
“foe Phenix, the police spy,” answered the cm.
cer

The man’s face turned deadly pale and for a mo-
ment the corners of his mouth twitched nervously-
but by agreat effort he endeavored to put abo
face on the matti r.

“You have made some mistake, sir, and you had
better be careful how you oh a respectable citi~
zen with suchacrimei" he exc imed; “ his is an
outrage, sir, and I shall hold on responsible for it i"

“ righ sir; I know my ut , andshall perform
it. Hold on your hands.”

“I will not submit to be handcuffed!” the man
cried; “and I demand to see your warrant. Who
am I accused of murdering?"

" Hilton Bullcmtor 1"

Again the face of the man despite the effort
he made to conceal his ap $133011.

“1 never heard of sue a man i" he declared.
“ Again I tell you, sir, that you have made a mistakci
I am not the man on take me fori"

“ Did you ever ear of Captain Shark?" Phenix
asked, in his cool, off-hand wa .

For a moment the man a most red; the
blood left his lips and he visibly trembl .

“ Ca tain Shark," he murmured. “ I know no one
by tho name.“

Phenix made an almost imperceptible to Irv-
ing, and the detective, advancing, seized t e man's
arms from behind his back brought his wrists to-
gether, and in a twinkling Phenix snapped the hand-
cuffs upon them.

“Do not attempt to resist, or we shall be com.
polled to be violent with oui ’ the police s y warn.
ed, and then the two de ives hurried e man,
despite his struggles, into the coach, entered with
him and closed t e door; the driver whipped up his
horses and away the went.

The capture was e acted, and at last the untirlng
police spy was hot on the trail of the brigand.

CHAPTER xxm
mama ml: nun.
Tigecoachdwas driveitihat once to talc! 
rs, an uring e e t er 9 .
germ earnestly rotem innocence ofp
knowledge of the c c with which he had been
charged, and had denounced his arrest as an out-

e.

‘“The two detectives hhd listened with incredulous
miles, merely cautioning the man to take matters
quietly and him that they much pfrcferrcd
tomcat him like a ntleman, but that he at-
tempted to give tron 9 they would not hesitate to
use violent measures with him.

Findi all expostulations fruitless the man at
last su ded into silence. He had evidently come
to the conclusion that it was useless waste of time
to attempt to argue with these human bloodhounds.

At the police lead-quarters the party dismounted
and the two detectives conducted e prisoner—not
into the presence of the chief of the lice force as
he had —but to a cell where e was at once

 

placed in solitary confinement.

“ What is the mean of this?" he demanded, an
the lice s y remov the handcu and he saw
that owns beleft to hiscwnmcdl ns. “Am
I not to have an examination i”

“ Not at present " Phenix replied, tersely.

“But I demand it! You have no proof againstmci
This is all a trum'ged-up accusation!”

“ Well, if that so, lyou will be able to prove it,
of course,” and then henix started for the door.

“ But this is infamous treatment!" persisted the
man. “Iwarn you that I shall call you to anac-
count for this thro h the courts. I have influential
friends, and they not see me abused."

“ An influential friend, you mean i" the police spy
su ested, “ but I reckon on will find he will have
all e can attend to in 1 ing out for himself, for
lIl'll have him in the next cell to this one within five

ours. ‘

For a moment the man looked bewildered; tbs
confidegtl as well u the words of the detective

s .
as the game indeed up after so many successful
ears? Had the bloodhounds of the law at last run
e society wolf to a corner from whence there
was no escape? t seemed impossible and yet it
might be so. To the mind of the puzzled man cams
the old adage of the pitcher that goes often to the
well; some day it won d surely be broken.

And if it was true—if the great captain of the ter
rible gan , who had so man years thrived on ch
deeds an inn bed to scorn e efforts of the acute
officers of the w, was at last hunted down, his cum
hing torn away, and the law‘s diced pent
alty him in the face, why, what chance was
there for to escape—he, the jacked to the lion!
Would it not be better for him to make a clean
breasth of a71/11 this) gubiolgy gent—hm turnteln’former and
pure use a y ra ng mas r
inclined to do so, but he did not feel

He was
quite certain that the detective was the
truth. He struggled against the bells No, no, it
was not his! The master mind of the band “as

cunn a toorich,tooinfluent tobc
hunted down to his 2:; the ordinary mac men;
of the law. The confld statement of the detec-
tive was but a trick to cntrap him into a confession;
and yet, when he spoke of influential friends, wh'.‘

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

should the spy so uickly reply in the singular when
he had spoken in t e lural?

“Oh, no, my frien ,” the lice spy continued
“don’t lay the fiatterin unc on to your soul that
the captain will be able aid you in the least. He
has come to the end of his rage and Will now be
brought up with a round turn; e has_no.reason to
com ain, either, for he has had long innings of it,
and he amount of lunder that he has got away
with is really wonder ul. He has played a bold and
desperate game but you can’t keno every time, you
know; the ‘ ban ’ must win some time." .

“ Can I communicate with my friends?" the pris-
oner asked, anxiously. .

“ Not at present," he detective replied, promptly,
“ but just as soon as we get the captain safe in our
clutches you can write as many letters as you

lease. Don’t fool yourself With the idea that we

on’t mean b ess this time, for we do nd if you
are wise, you won‘t be as foolish as the Frenchman,
Gironde, the Italian, Luc and the Madame were.
They wouldn‘t h on he captain, although I
ave them the c ance before they were tried; they
ondly believe that the head of the gang would be
able to save them as he has saved his ollowers a
hundred times at least, but things have cha ed in
New York during the last ten years; you can t buy
ju es now uite as eas , or as cheap, asin the
old ime and t’s a great eal harder, too, to pack
juries. hey wouldn‘t peach, and the consequence
was that they all went to Sing Sing, and they are
there, too, now. Even things up the river have
changed. It isn’t so easy to bu three or four keep-
ers and geta risoner out as used tobe. I tell
you, my frlen , with the grip that we have ot now,
t‘s goln to be hard lines for Captain Shar and his
g "rig tstraight along! If you take my advice

you try to come to some arrangement with the
chief ' if your information is worth an , maybe
you'll be able to is out of the scrape. ’

“I suppose I w be allowed tosend for alawyer?"
the man remarked thoughtfully evidently much
impressed by what the o ce spy had said.

‘ Webster won‘t be a le to he p you in the least "
Phenix responded, instantly; “and when he fin
that the captain isdown on his luck and we‘ve gist
our grip on him I rather think he will begin to
have that he had etter kee in the . round. It
was the captain who fired t t shot whi killed the
policeman the other night on the dock, and that’s

ing to be a hangilirifinmatter. Just you w the
t ng over in your (1 and see if it isn't bet r for
you to creeps out rather than to face the music.”
And with th injunction the police 5 y departed;
gut lhe had given the prisoner plenty o foo for re-

act on.

Phenix went straight to the house where the rl
Adalia resided, and where a lucky chance had ed
him that morning just in time to recognize the
Frenchman‘s messenger. I

“ I thought that I recognized the fellow in spite of
his di ," he muttered, as he walked along;
“ and in the person of Captain Shark Irecognized
him, too, but his lucky ture makes assurance
doubly sure. The fellow w confess, I am certain-
he'li make a clean breast of it before long, but will
it be in time? Why does the Frenchman depart?
Does he fear that the bloodhounds are coming near
to him and that in time hewiil be discovered? It
looks like it. He has evidently resolved to keep
shady for a while until the storm blows over, or else
he has, Proteus-like, assumed a new disguise. I
mustbe on guard,forifhehasnotfled, hewill
be inclined to deal me a blow if he can get the
chance, that ma hurt me some. ’

When Phenixyarrived at the house wherein the
girl resided, he at once ascended to her room, knock-
ed and was admitted b her to the apartment.

“And now, miss " e said, after he was seatedi
“I want you to ve me a-fuli account ofall the
you know about man, Percy."

It was not a pleasant task, and the rl hesitated.

“ I know very little indeed of him,” s e confessed,
“ and yet we are most intimatel related, or will be
in time," and a conscious blus tinged her pale
cheeks. .

“ ease explain " Phenix re lied, a stra elook
upon his face. “ ileve me, do not ask or the
more gratification of idle curiosihtly but it is essen-
tial for the success of the task w ch you intrusted
to me. I must know all about him; how yoube-

came uainted with him— his occupation—what
he hasaggld at any time about himself; a chance ob-
servatio fallin at random from his lips and

a aren of s ght importance, mi httomebcof
tg: utmogt value. Speak, then, thout reserve,
and tell me all you know in regard to im.
As we have said, it was nota leasant task for the
lrl to relate how she had sold erself to this man—
ails Bohemian of whom she really knew so httle,
net for the money to enable her to carry out the
dea to which she was wedded; but the earnest words
of the detective officer had reduced agreat impres-
sion upon her, and she reso ved to speak fully ani
frank y. .
And therefore she related all that had transpired
between herself 33d thle man Percy, not even omit-
the sli htest etai .
“this told ow he had waited upon her and attempt-
ed by every possible means to gain her friendsh p;
how, in an unguarded moment, she had revealed tue
doe et urpose of her heart—the removal of the
s ntba enshrouded the name of Gilbert .Barlec—
and her announcement, foolish and girl-like, that
he would sell herself for the means to accom ii
ier urpose' then how he had told the story 0 his
ludifen rise to fortune, his ofler to share it wrth her,
and the compact between them: his relation of his
intention to take a journey abroad, and the an-
nouncement that the Frenchman his half-brother,
Monsieur Langueville, would aid her in her en-

deavor.

“Yes, yes, I understand that," Phenix observed,
with an air of meditatiOn, after she had finished.
“ He expected that at the police head-quarters he
wouldseemeandhedid no care to face me. He
saw, too, that you were resolutely determined in
your purpose to solve the mystery of the old and al-
most forgotten crime and since the inquiry was
like to be put on its feet some day, be determined
to set the matter going at once, and to take it en-
tirely under his own direction so as to be able to di-
root and control it. I think i hold now, at last, in
my hands, the clews that will unravel the whole

 

Joe Phenix.

myste and now, if you please, tell me the etc of
your  for it is most important." W

The girl was surprised at the re uest, but she com-
plied at once and when she had nished, the police
spy who h listened with a strange expression up—
on his face, took his departure, promising to return
on the morrow.

“ The ways of Heaven are indeed wonderful!" he
murmured; “ and now for Magdalena Avala, to
wringl’her heart as in the old dead past she tortured
mine ’

 

CHAPTER XL.
A small or THE rasr.

THE lice spy wended his wa at once to the
elegan mansion of the retired b er, Leopold Van-
derwolf.

Bitter were his reflections and moody his brow as
he walked swiftly on; the old dead past was rising
fresh in his memory, and man a dull pain wrun
his heart as the remembrance of wrongs return

to him.

“But the end is near at hand,” he muttered, as he
strode onward; “only a httle time longercan he
escape the consequences due to all his crimes. The
reckoni will be short and the vengeance a. speedy
one. 1th my own hands might I avenge my
wro , but to drag him forth from his screen of lies
into he open lig t of the day—to hold him up
before all the world in his true_colors, to e se
him to the shame of a public trial and convic ion,
would be so much more bitter to him, so much
more satisfactory to myself, that not for the world
would I by any rash act of mine deprive myself of
the opportunity to make him suffer, and sufler
jugtvlfi', what I, an innocent man, have endured."

en the police spy reached the house of the
banker the darkness was comin on. All the adjoin-
ing houses showed traces of light; li hts were be-
fining to glimmer from the win ows; usy servants
n the basement dinin -rooms were pre aring the
tables for sup r' bu not a light co (1 be dis-
tinguished in t e Yanderwolf mansion; no servants
could be seen; all was as still and dark as the

grave.

“Hallo, hallo!” exclaimed Phenix, as he mounted
the _ste after taking a careful survey of the house,
“this ooks ominous. Is it possible that he has
flitted already]? I can hardly believe it, for my bird
whom I frig tened into a confession, said that
Saturda was the day fixed u on. Perhaps, though,
he may ve taken alarm at he absence of his con-
fidential servant and guessed that he had fallen into
my clutches? It is hardly possible, though, for the
arrest was so recent that there has not really been
time for him to take fright. Besides, unless he is a
professor of the dark art, and has a knowledge of
what is going on around him far superior to the

cases of common men he cannot possibly sus ct

ow completel I have. drawn the net around 'm,
and that alre y there is hardly an avenue of esca
left open to him. Every ferry evefiy steamer doc ,
eve railway depot is watched, an unless he can
riv Proteus in his disgLiises, he is sure to be nabbed
b my spies if he at mpts to esca . No, the
c nces are a hundred to one that be safe in the
house, and that within the next hour I shall have the
guhplreme satisfaction of snapping the bracelets upon

The s y pulled the bell and after quite a lo
interval0 a servant appeared at the door. Hg

It was a colored man, with a sullen, morose face—
not an agreeable-looking fellow at all; in fact just
the sort of a man to attend to the door and get rid
of troublesome customers,

“ Miss Magdalena Avala?” Phenix said.

“Not in,” re nded the servant, laconically, and
then he attemp to shut the door right in the face
of the questioner; but Phenix was prepared for this,
and was quite equal to the situation for he dex-
trously shoved his foot in between the doors, so that
it was impossible to close it.

The servant, u n perceiving the obstacle imme-
diatelyoproceed to ut his shoulder aiainst the
door shove it to, etermined to give t e foot of
the obtrusive white man a pretty inch, at all
events; but at this game Jack was qu as good as
his master, for Phenix brought to bear all his eat
strength, and exerting it against the door w th a
sudden efiort, knocked the n ro over backward
with an irresistible force and t e stalwart fellow
went sprawli upon the floor, just as if he had been
a child ins of a powerful man.

In a twinkling, however, the fellow was on his
feet, and with an oath, be rushed upon the intruder,
who was now fairly fixed upon the threshold.

Phenix was prepared for him, though, and skill-
fully avoidin he attack he dealt the man a wer-
ful Iowin tie neck which felled him asif ehad
been shot. Thenhe uttered a low yet shrill whistle,
and at the signal two men, who ad been lounging
up the street came dartin up the steps and at once
handcuffed t e astonishe darkey.

“_Hullo, w‘at’s de mattert—w’at ye ’bout?" he ex-

claimed.

“ Keeps still tongue in your head, or it willbe the
worse for you i” Phenix cautioned.

“ W’at’s de matter?" was all the astonished negro
could e aculate.

“ No arm will come to you if you behave our-
self!" Phenix replied. “ You are only wan as a
witness."

f‘ Say, be you a policemen?" asked the man, be-
Wildered at his sudden arrest, and looking in vain
for the bright button and blue coats of the metro-
politan officers.

“Yes; detectives."

“ An‘ w‘at does yer want?"

“ Miss Avala; you lied when you said that she
wasn‘t in the house."

“ Dat‘s so, marsa," the negro admitted; “ but dat
was marsa‘s orders. He said dat I was for to tell
everybody dat dere wasn’t an body at home. I
was to say dat (is hull house gone out.” -

“ Your master is at home then? ‘

“ Yes, sah; but don‘t let on dat I done igive it
away, for de old man will be ht mad ’bout 1"

“ And where will I find Miss vale?”

“ In de back room up-stairs, de furst door dat you
comes to. " '

“ All right; just wait for me with your prisoner in
the lor and if you hear me whistle, come up,”
Phe said addressing the officers.

They nodded and procecded with their handcuffed

 

21

man into the room indicated, while the police spy
slowly ascended the stairs.

A painful task was before him, which he would
have avoided if it had beemssmle, but fate was
stronger than mere human , and he felt that he
must go on in the ath mapped out for him.

He tapped at t e door which the negro had re--
ferred to; a low, sweet voice bade him enter, and in
obedtience to the command he strode into the apart-
men .

The gaslight within the room was burning bright‘
ly and the woman known as Magdalena Avala—but
whom our readers will perhaps remember better
when wesay that she was the mysterious lady who
had 1am in wait for the flower-girl, Adaliu Cnmmer-
ton, and had warned her against the pursuit of a
wealth and influential man—was rechning in an
eas -c air with an open book upon her lap.

e started to her feet in astonishment when
Phenix entered the room.

“ (Yireat heavens, you here 1" she exclaimed.

‘5 es"! '

“And what do you seek here?“

“ Vengeance!” replied Phenix, as somber as an
executioner.

“Vengeance upon me?" cried the woman sinking
back into the chair, evidently overcome with terror.

“ No, not against you, for I think that you havd
already been sufficiently unished.”

“ Heaven knows that I ave,” she moaned, wring;
ing her hands to ether in agony.

You have su ered l”

“ Yes terribly—terribly l”

“ And yet you do not know how much more on
might have suffered had not Haven in its wi om
chosen to conceal some of the truth from you.”

“ I do not understand you i” the woman exclaimed,
with a wondering glance.

“ Let us retrace our steps and 0 back to the old,
old time when we first came togegher.”

The woman buried her face in her hands and sob-
bed aloud.

“ You were then a young, petted and spoiled child,"
he continued, in slow and measured tones; he had a
disagreeable task to perform, but he did not shrink
from it, for he felt that poor, weak human as he
was, he was car ing out the will of that eternal
Judge who never 8 ee eth. “ I was a few 'ears your
senior; chance broug t us together. In 1 your life
you had hardly ever fancied anything that you did
not obtain it. You fancied me; the obstacles be-
tween us did not daunt you; you determined to over-
come all of them and you succeeded. But it was
hke the child With the new toy. No sooner had you
accomplished your object than you repented; you
were quickly tired; perhaps some ency was at
work to make a breach between us. think so now,
although then I did not suspect it in the least. Acci-
dent or des' , favored you; accident I had always
believed, bu Within the ast few days m eyes have
been opened to many stra e facts, an I have be-
come convinced that what took to be the accident-
al work of afar-seeing and inscrutable Providence,
was in reality the cunnieiiglyéplanned scheme of a
man who had determin use me as a ladder
whereby he might mount to the hights of his desires.
We were married, but your father’s murder tore me '
from my home and consigned me to the cold walls of
a prison; you procured a divorce so that you might
be able to marry the man who had fascinated you;
you sent forth your baby-girl to heartless fosterage,
careless whether she hved or died, so ion as you
could compass the selfish desires which h sprung
up Within your heart. The child did die 1’”

“ Yes, yes, and if you could have known how I
have mourned for her! Long, long “Ego I repented

s

of my heartless crime and gladly wo do anything
in in power to atone for it.” ,
“ 1h, your repentance comes too late' but, is the

repentance sincere?“ Phenix cried, wit bitter at
cent. “Do on not re&ent merely because this man
tricked you because e golden prize for which you
strove turned to ashes in your gras .9 You rocured
a divorce from me that you mi ht able marry
this man' and yet, this night I find you, Magdalena
Ayala a housekeeper in the mansion of Leopold Van-
derwolf. How is this?”
“ Because he deceived me as I deceived my father.
We were married, as I supposed. I gave into his
hands all my father’s property. He wished the mar-
riag; kept secret in order to avoid scandal. 1 w' ‘
mg complied, for his stronger nature domino.
mine, but after he had fairly got possession of every-
thing and Iwas just beginning to see that I was but
a tool in his hands, he announced to me that our
age was a fraudulent one; he could not legally
marry me as he was not a free man but alread had
a Wife in Europe and one from whom he coulli not
rocure a divorce, as the laws there in regard to
hat subject were much more stringent than they
are here. I was thunderstruck at m position;
helpless in the power of this man. I no choice
but to acce t the terms he offered; honestly his
wife, as I he believed, yet I was forced to appear to
all the world simply as is servant."

CHAPTER XLI.
m nvs'ranv arm.

“A .msr retribution!" Phenix exclaim' ed,

“I must admit it is," she re lied.

“And now listen to me an see how. in another
wayé‘you have been unished,” the police spy con.
tinu . “ You confl ed the care of your babygirl
to your maid, a woman who had waited upon you
almost from childhood, althou h but a few years
your senior. The birth of the c ild was kept secret

{Ion because you feared that this man whom you
h detenmnedto Win would not have on if he
knew that you were incumbered with a c ild. You
confided everyt g to this woman, and she, thor
oug ydevoted to me, whom in her humble way
she loved, eagerly took the child and promised to
care for it, but In her secret heart she had deter-
mined never to return that bab -girl to you but to
rear-her with one Single idea p nted firmlyin her
brain,and that was to hunt down and bring to justice
itt‘fi’idi‘io’éi“ inserts faShe‘ii Shewmw“

un o e r' an a that a
tained to it, for she had an excellent educatior? and
was very shrewd in wit, and as years went on from
time to time she added to her memorandums. She
came to you with the intel nce that the child had
di but that was a part of er scheme to keep the
chil away from you, and to devote her to a task of

 

 

'1

_.‘..:._~,

22 .. 7

7.766 'Ph‘en'fiz.

 

In—
t

v nce; and then, too she had got the idea into
her ead that this man w 0 had taken ouunder his
protection was the real assassin of her ather."

“ Oh, no, impossible!" the woman cried, starting
to her feet in horror.

“Not at all impossible. I myself believe that it
is the truth!” Phenix replied, firmly. “ And the wo-
man actin on this idea. resolved to conceal the ex-
istence of he child, so that the guilty man in ht
rest secure in the belief that there was no one in he
world excepting the unfortunate wretch confined
for life at Sing Sing, who had any interest in the
murder of the cotton-broker. Even from the father
she kept the truth, for she did not dare to betray the
secret to a. sin is soul. Years passed, and once
again accident avored the assassin. The house in
the little country village where this woman resided
took fire in the middle of the night and she perished
in the flames; the girl was absent on a visit and es-
caped, and the precious memorandum-book escaped
also, for, in obedience to her supposed mother‘s in-
junctions, the girl, now some eighteen years old,
sewed the book up carefully in a bag and wore it
like an amulet next to her heart. The death of the
woman apparently destroyed all evidence in regard
to who or what the girl was for as I have said, the
secret had never been intrusted to a living soul, but
in the back of the memorandumvbook the woman, in
fear of some such accident happening to her, had
written a full account of her sus cions in regard to
the murder of your father, an had also told the
gory of the girl s birth. The rl came here to New

or in search of a sister of or supposed mother,
who, with her two little boys, had come to this city,
but she was unable to find any trace of her and so
sub; isletvitled dgwn quietly to earn hetgliivéh ,tsltill keep-

ew, owever, er e wrong
that had been done to Gilgefl Barlee. By a miracle
almost the girl and her memorandum-book fell into
my hands, and so the whole truth became known to
me. Alreaeddv had I followed up some clews which
had reveal to me that there was a villain in a high
place in this city who would not hesitate at any
crime and as I hunted this fellow from disguise to
disguise—from one hiding-place unto another, I be-

n to entertain a shrew s lcion that in discover-
fiiag the villain who had ofi'en ed against the laws, I
should also bring to light the man who, in the old

e, done me such a fearful wrong. Two
trails I followed, and then all at once the two became
one!"

“ Great heavens, it is not possible i ” she exclaimed
in wild amazement. “ You do not mean to say the
wt: ltlrace the crime for which you entered home to

ones ’ I

“ Yes.t it is the truth,“ he replied, with solemn ac-
cent. Already the officers are in on of the
house, and in a very few minutes more we‘ll have
the handcuffs upon this man who has for so long a
time committed crime after crime with impunity. I
captured his confidential servant this afternoon, and
the fellow, frightened by the knowledge, has partly
confessed

“Oh, has he?" cried a cool, calm and deliberate
Voice; “thenI supposeI may as well give myself
up,” and into the room from the door which led
i‘nto thl: adjoining apartment stepped Leopold Van-

erwo .

He saluted the police spy with a bow, and there
was a scornfui, sarcastic smile u n his face.

“ You are very clever in your usin Mr. Police
Spy, Joe Phenix, or Gilbert Barlee, t2 ve you the
name to which you are entitled. I was a very
clever trick of yours-the pretended death at Sing
3mg, saitlgat tyou sctrgirlgcfomignemfotrth and hunt me

own, on my a on were on in
track. Phenixi Oh, you are we named! I
own frankly to on that I experienced a great de-
tgifmriillilef in eed when {hareadt “111211186 newtst of your
Sea e news a rs— re , up
expresslyto throw;> 111,169 at my guard:lzid ftosuc-
ceeded admirably, too, forI confess I had no sue
melon that you were on my track, or else I should
ve taken more certain measures to have silenced
ou.‘

“Do you surrender?” asked Phenix, g with a
certain de of curiosity upon the man w om he
had hunt down so well and patient?

“ Oh,wy ; what other course have i" the manre-
piied, th perfect composure treating the matter
with the utmost indifference. ‘ As I have thered
from your interesting discourse, you have t e house
surrounded by your spies, all means of esca cut
off, and therefore, like the celebrated 'coon aged
in story, I am going to come dawn without tron is;
but first, before you proceed to ornament my wrists
with the delicate bracelets which I presume you are
lingling in your pocket, let me e lain to you cer-

matters in regard to the dar mystery of the
past which I only can explain, and wh ch y with
all (your cunning acuteness, would never be a le to
fin out. In the first lplace I will reveal to you the
secret of Avala's deat . At that time I was in busi-
ness in Wall street with my brother, my twin-
brother, Leopold.“

“Leopold! ‘ exclaimed both of the listeners, in
astonishment.

“Yes, Leo id, for my name is Victor," replied
the wily vilmn, with a sardonic smile. ‘My bro-
ther and m self were so much alike that we could
not be to d apart. He visited Eu and died

e. I had good reason for wishing he world to
behave that i was Victor who died, and not Leo-

ld for there were two or three ugl little affairs

which Victor Vanderwolf was imp cated and of
course his death canceled the account. Just after
this somewhat sudden chm? in my name, I be-
came actgnainted with the roker, Avala, in the
course of usiness, and as soon as I learned the Far-
ticulars in to his family affairs, I perce ved
that there was a chance for me to make a bold
stroke for afortune. I intended to marry his daugh-
ter' your secret marriage to her defeated that plan
and hen I determined at one bold stroke to kill
Av remove you and divorce her, and I think that
you ll be obliged to own that my lan worked to
achagn. Aaydal‘a in hiaragel' in liegan the mrtarriageuI
song my vce,an perce g so u ty,
determined to rofit b it. I counse that you
to vi thiminhisofficeatanhour
when I knew the neighborhood would be deserted.
As Iexplainedtohim, myplanw first—to reason
with and endeavor to buyyou o :but,as I told
himeeltsure that you would never consent. I

 

was to conceal m elf in the closet in the room,
and when persuas on failed, Avala was to signal me
by turning OR the gas; then, in the darkness, I was
to fall 11 n you. The plan was to gag and bind
you and ee you a prisoner in the office without
ood or we r until you yielded. Of course the
scheme was real] an absurd one, but Avaia, with
all the hot-h ed impetuosity natural to all
men of his race, believed that it was feasible.
My real scheme was at a single blow to remove
the old broker and at the same time fix the guilt
u n our shoulders. It succeeded most mag-
n cen y. The gas was turned off, I came from
the closet, and with a si le well-directed blow
let out the life of the old cot n-broker; then I hur-
ried noiselesst from the room, turned the key in the
lock by means of a pair of pincers from the outside,
made my way to the street and gave the alarm to the
wwmam As you will perceive, you guessed only
well when you asserted that the unknown man
who was never traced was likely to be the real mur-
derer. From that time all pros red with me until
{Ion rose like a s ter upon t e scene. I formed

6 band of Cap ain Shark, became a ve brigand
of society, married this woman, for I id really
marry her although I deceived her into a belief that
I did not for I wis ed to be independent of all bind-
ing ties. Leopold Vanderwolf the banker, prospered;
but it was Percy, the Bohem , and Captain Shark
who made the money. In one ucky moment
when in the disguise of Percy, I came across the gir
Adalia, and like a fool I was fascinated b her pretty
f having no suspicion at all that s e was the
chil of the secret marriage between this woman and
yourself. I took considerable trouble to win the
confidence and love of the girl little thinking that I
was digging a pitfall into wh oh my own footsteps
would wander; and when, to my astonishment, I
discovered that she was resolute to unravel the mys-
tery of Avala’s death, I determined to advance the.
mono and control the investigation; and this is the
end a which I have arrived :—this girl’s pretty face

ruined me. I am your risoner, sir.’

The guilty man bowed h head humbly but at
the same moment, and as uiok almost as thought,
he drew a small pistol from is pocket and discharg-
ed it full at the breast of the lice spy; but the
quick-witted woman had e some such design
and threw herself forward.

At the sacrifice of her own life she tried to atone
in some little measure, for the past. She fell, killed
upon the instant.

In a twinkling Phenix had the handcuffs upon the
desperado, an the detectives came hastening up
the stairs, but the guilt man never left the house
alive. He was prepared or all emergencies; he had
a small vial of poison in his hot and contrived to
swallow it unawares, and so e cheated the scaffold.

Our story now is told. In the famous lice spy
Adaiia found a loving father; the two ttle boys
also, the ne hews of the woman who had been so
faithful to er trust, were well provided for by the
man whom they had aided.

Gilbert Barlee never ap red again, for the stain
was still on the name at the police spy richly
earned the freedom he had won blv his moment to
destroy the terrible secret gang 0 Cap Shark.

m m.

 

Half-Dime Singer’s Library

1 WEOA, sham and 59 other Songs.

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29 BLUISOBONNETS 0m m Boson and 54 other

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48 H. II. S. Plasmas, comma, and 17 3518" Songs.
linfield eyvegnglgeit'e by‘ Nemealersfit five cents

n - (' , an dress, 0

Mp8? $3 0am pogo: p lber. y n m-

BELDLI AND ADAMS,

98 Wasn- Slum, wa .Yonx.

 

J
BEADLE & ADAMS’

STANDARD DIMLPUBUCATIUNS.

Speakers.

3mm: AND Anus have now on their lists the fol
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4. Comic Speaker. 15. Komikal Speaker.

5. Elocutionist. 16. Youth‘s S eaker.

6. Humorous Speaker. 17. El uent p’eeker.

7. Standard Speaker. 18. ' Colum ia Speak
8. Stump Speaker.

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9. Juvenile Speaker. 19. Serlo-Comic Speaker.
10. Spread—Eagle Speaker 20.- Select S er.
te . 21. Funny peaker.

22. Jolly S er.

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Dialogues.
The Dime Dialogulgeg,o eachizvolume 100 pages, em-

tfiirglce twen —t(l;ree
ogues o. ne. a] es No. Thirteen.
Dialogues No. Two. ' Dialgguues No. Fourteen.
Dialogues N 0. Three. Dialogues No. Fifteen.
Dialogues No. Four. Dialogues No. Sixteen.
Dialogues No. Five. Dialogues No. Seventeen
Dialogues No. Six. Dialogues No. Eighteen
Dialogues No. Seven. Dialogues No. Nineteen.
Dialogues No. Eight. Dialogues No. Twenty.
Dialogues No. Nine. Dialogues No. Twenty-one.
Dialogues No. Ten. Dialogues N o. Twenty-two.
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164 12mo Pages. 20 Cents.

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Ladies‘ Let -Writer. Book of Games.

 

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ted to their odd. 1 and m es

 

Yachti and Rowin .
Chess Instructor. Ridingggnd Driving. 8
Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestrianism.
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Manuals for Housewives.
ann’s Dun: Famv SERIES aims to an
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The above publications for sale by all new eairrs
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f‘grssnrs HALF-DIME LIBRARY.

.7

Every one or them “ Live” Stories by “ Live” Authen.

Each number

s (‘omplete Novel, at the extraordinary price ora HALF-DIME.

l Deadwocd Dick, Trill: PillNCE OF THE
ROAD. By Edward L. \V’ln-clur.
2 Yellowstone Jack: or, Tm: TaArrna
ormsl‘immurn«imnm, J. E. er.Jr.
Kansas Kin ; a .-, TH: Ran lGBT
HAND. B Bu .110 Bill (Hon. Wm. F. Cody).
The Wil -Horse Hunters. By Capt.
Mayne Reid and Ca t. Frederick Whittaker.
5 Vagabond Joe: In: YOUNG WANDERP
[N0 Jaw. By 011 Coomes.
6 Bill Biddon, Tra er: or, L!" m
Tns Non'rnwu'r. By ‘ ward 8. Ellis.
7 The Plyin Yankee: or, Tn: OcsAn
OU'rOAsT. y 00L Prentiss Ingraham.
8 Seth Jones: or, Tar CAPTIVII or ran
Fromm By Edward 8. Ellis.
9 The Adventures of Baron Mun-
chanson.
10 Nat Todd; or, Tin FAT: or ran
SIOUX CAmvt. By Edward 8. Ellis.
1 1 The Two Detectives; or,
FoamssorABowsaY Gnu. A.W.Alken.
1 Gulliver's Travels. A Voyage to
Lilli ut, ands Voyage to Brobdln .
Coomes,

Tm:

1 e umb Spy. By Oll
authm- or “ Vagabond Joe," etc.
14 Aladdin; or, Tun VVONDERJ'UL

P.
15 The Sea-Cat; or, Tns Wrrcn or
DAISIEN. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and

Surprisin Adventures, (1.” illustrations.)
1 7 Ralph oy, The Boy Bucca-
neer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

1 8 Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy-
ages. From the Arabian Nights.

19 The Phantom Sp : or, Tm: PILOT
or was PaAIaIs. By uflalo Bill.

20 The Double Daggers: or DaAD-

21 woon Dion’s Dsruslcs. By E. LTVheeler,

Frontier Angel. A Romance of
Kentucky Rangers‘ Life. By E. 8. Ellis.
22 The Sea Serpent; or Tin: BOY
RonmsON Censor. By 001. juan Lewis.
23 Nick 0’ the Ni ht; or, Tar BOY
Sr! or ‘76. By T. . Harbsuzh.
24 Diamond Dirk; or, Tns Mrsraar
or Tar Ymmws'ron. By COL Ingrahsm.
25 The Boy Ca tain; or, Tn: PmATs’s
DAUGIrran y Roger Starbuck.
26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. By
Edward L. Wheeler.
27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide.
By 011 Coomes.
2 Bufi’alo Ben; or. DEADWOOD Dch
m DIsGUIss. ?; Edward L. Wheeler.
2 The Dumb e: 011, TH: DOGr’s
DAUGIITsa. B a t. F. Whittaker.
30 Roaring Ralph kwood. Tn
Rscnm More. By Barry St. George.
31 Keen-Knife, Tn Pumas or was
PaAnuss. B 011 Goomes.
3 Bob Woo the Border Rnflan:
or. Tn: Gnu. DsAD-Snor. E. LWheeler.
33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or Tan
RIDPmATssor was Cans-sis. S.W. me.
34 Oregon Sol: or Nch WnIans’
BOY Sn. By Cspt. . F. 0. Adams.
3 5 Wild Ivan, Tar. BOY CLAUDs DWAL;
By Edward L. Wheeler.
36 The Boy Clown; or, Tn Gum or
m Assn. B Frank 8. l'lnn.
37 The Hidden Lodge; or, Tm: errLs
Hus-ran or Tn: ADuoNDAcu. Herbaugh.
3 Ned Wylde, Tan: BOY Scour. By
Texas Jack.
39 Death-Pace. the Detective. By
Edward L. Wheeler.
40 Roving A story of s Young
American. By John J. Marshall.
011 Coomes.

42 The P tom Miner: or, DEAD-
wOOD Dxcx‘s Boxsxu. By Ed. LWheeler.
43 Dick Darlln%.athe Pony Express
Rider. By pt. F. Whittaker.
Ratt Rube; or, Tin NIGII-r-
awas or on. B Her St. George.
45 Old Avalanche. rc/at An-
nihilator. By Edward L. Wheeler.
46 Glass Bye, the Great Shot of the
West. By Capt. J. ETC. .FA‘xiams.
N htingale Nat: on, m: oaasr
47 Emma. By '1‘. 0. Herbs h.
48 Black John. the Rea -Agent.
By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.
49 Omaha Oil; or, DrADwoon DICK Is
Dumas. By Edward L. Wheeler.

llB

 

50 Burt Bunker

GROUND KP. By Archie 0. Iron.

52 The White Bufi’alo. A Tale of
.Strange Adventure. Charles E. Lasalle.

53 Jun Bludsoe, J r., THE BOY PHENIX;
or.’l‘meGn T0 Tn: DaA'rn. E. L. Wheeler.

54 Ned Basel. Tm: BOIr TRAPPER; or,
Tn: PBANTOK Parsons. By J. F. 0. Adams.

5 5 Deadly-Bye, Tn: UNKNOWN SCOUT;
By Buffalo Bill.

56 Nick Whiflles’ Pet;
VALLn or DsATn. Capt. J. EC. Adams.

5 7 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or,
Tea PAnDs or FLOOD BAIL E. . Wheeler.

5 8 The Border King; or, T3]: Sacaar
For. By 011 Coomes.

59 Old Hickory, or, PANDY ELLIs’s
SCALr. By Har St. George.

60 The White In ian; or, THI: SCOUT
or TE! Ynmwsmn. ByJ. F. C. Adams.

61 Buckhorn Bill; or, THE RED Ruru:
Tun. By Edward L. Wheeler.

62 The Shadow Shir; or, Tar. RIVAL
-LIIUTENANTI. By CO . Prentiss lngraham.

63 The Red Brotherhood; or, Tm:
Twvas Answers. By W. J. Hamilton.

64 Dand Jack; or, Tn: OUTLAW or
Tm: noon TRAIL. By T. C. Harbaugh.

65 Hurricane Bill; or. MUSTANG SAM
AND HIS "PATIO." By Joe. E. Badger, Jr.

66 Single Hand; or, A LIFE son A LIrs.
By W. J. Hamilton.

67 Patent-Leather Joe; or, OLD RAT-
nmsfim Games. By P. S.Warne.

6 The 80 er Robin Hood: or, TH!
PaAIaIs Rona. By Buffalo Bill.

69 Gold Rifle; or, Tun BOY DETEOTm
or Tns BLAcx Rmcn. By E. L. Wheeler.

70 Old Zip’s Cabin: or, Tar: Gasm-
noas or ran Wooos. By J. F. 0. Adams.

71 Delaware Dickg-Tna YOUNG RAN-
Gsa SPY. By 011 Coomee.

 Mad Tom Western. Tm: Tam
BANG“. *By W. J. Hamilton.

7 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

74 Hawk-eye Harry. Tan YOUNG
Turns Rattan. By Oil Coomes.

7 5 The Boy Duelist: or, Tar Cams:
or m n Wou. By Col. P. Ingrshsm.

76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. By
Albert W. Aiken. '

77 Corduroy Charlie: or. Tn: her

or, IN THE

Aer or DaADwoon DICK. By E. L. Wheeler.
7 8 Blue Dick; or, Tm: YELLOW Cam’s
7 9 Sol Gin er, Tm: GIANT TaArrna By
Albert . Aiken.
Kmon'r or m Games. By E. L. Wheeler.
81 Lightning3 Jo, Tam Taaaon or run
run. y Captain J. F. C. Adams.
OLD PowDrs-FAOI. By T. 0. through.
83 Rollo. the Boy Rangeré or, as:
84 Id 1, the Girl Miner; or Rosanne
1%): on HAND. By Edward L. Wheeler.
85 run: Tau-rm 3; Ca t. J. F. C. Adams.
Rock, my. lAN-FROM-TEX-
87 The Land Pirates: on, THE LEAGUE
or Drm’s IsLnID. By Capt. his as field.
89 Island Jim; on 'l‘m: PET or Tm;
FAerY. By author of “Jack Harkaway."
Dormer. By George W. Browne.
9 l The captain of the Club. By
92 Canada Chet; or, OLD ANACONDA
IN Srrrmo BULL’a Cm. By E. L.Wheeler.
Ist. By Edward S. Ellis.
94 Midnight Jack, Tun ROAD-AGENT.
9 5 The Rival Rovers. By Lieutenant
Col. Hazeltine.
Edward L. Wheeler.
97 The Outlaw Brothers: or, Ts:

stGnANcs. By Captain Mayne Reid.

80 Rosebud Rob; or, NUGGIT NID, TE!
8 Kit Harefoot, TIII: WOOD-HAWK; or,
Kansas or m Gowns Boas. ll Ooomes.
Buck Buckrasn; on, Bass, 'rmc Fr.-

8 D‘A: v G. Waldo Browne.
88 “BEETLE? ma. .1 £322.22
90 The Dread Rider; on, THE TEXAN
Brace!) dge Hemyng. (Jack Harkaway.)
9 3 The Boy Miners; or, Tm: ENCBANTED

By T. C. Harlnugh.

96 Watch - Bye, Tm: Dmorrvs. By
CAmvs or ml Hmss. By J. J. Marshall.

1 98 Robin Hood, Tin: OUTLAer Essa

By Prof. Stewart Gildersleeve.

Tm: TRAPPER. A !

Tale of the Northwest. By c. E. Lasalle. ,

51 The Boy Rifles; or, THE UNDER— I
‘A

 

9 The Tin-er of Taos. By George
Waldo rownc.

 Deadwood Dick in Leadville.
By Edward L. Wheeler.

i 1 0 1 Jack Harimway "In New York.

By Brm-ebrid e llemyng.
10 Dick Dead- ‘ye. THE BOY biqu-
szn. By Col. Prentiss lngmliam.
 The Lion of the Sea. By COL
belle Sara.
10 Deadwood Dick’s Device. By
Edward L. Wheeler.
10 Old Rube. Tm: HUNTEB' or, TH]
CHOW CAPTIVE. By Capt. . Holmes.
 Old Frosty, the Guide. By
T. C. Ilarbaul h.
10 One-Eyed Sim; or. THE Asa-
DONED P‘oam’r HOME. By J. L. Bowen.
10 Daring Davy, THE YOUNG Bw
KlLLER. B ' l-larr ' St. George.
 Deadwood Die as Detective
By Edward L. Wheeler.
1 1 The Black Steed of the Prai-
ries. By James L. Bowen.
1 1 1 The Sea-Devil; or, THE Mmsnrr
IAN‘s LrGAcr. Bv Col. P. Ingraham.
1  The Mad Hunter: Or, THE CAV'J
or DEATH. By Burton Saxe.
1 1 3 Jack Hoyle. THE YOUNG Sracu
LATOIL By Edward L. Wheeler.
1 14 The Black Schooner. BY Roan
- STARBL'CK. . g
1 1 5 The Mad Miner. BY' GEORG’
WALDO Bnowna.
1  The Husear Captain. BY COL
Pamss human.
1 1 7 Gilt-1}('ged Dick. THE SPORT—DI
TEC’IH 1:. By Edward L. Wheeler.
1 1 8 Will Some; 3, THE BOY Darro-
Trva. By Charles Morris.

1  Mustang Sam; or, Tun: KING or
Tm: PLAINS. B Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

 The Branded and;nr.TIIr. MAJ
or MYSTERY. By Frank Dumont.

1 2 1 Cinnamon Chi , Tm: GIRL SPORT.
By Edward L. 'heeler.

 Phil Hardy, The Boss Boy.
By Charles Morris.

' l W .
123 firstfwr 331...? M"

 Tigpy, the exam or, Tm: YOUNG
IIAIIPION. By Geo. Gleason.

12 Bonanza Bill, Miner: or, Tn

FEMALE Fonosn. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

 Pica ne Pete; on, Niconnws,

was 06 Da-rscrrva. By Chas. Morris

12 Wild-Fire. Tn: Boss or TIII
ROAD. By Frank Dunnout.

 The Young Privateer; on, Tns

lem' S-moxonou). B. Cavendish.

 Deadwood Dick's Double. A

Story of “'ild-Cat City. E. L. Wheeler.

 Detective Dick; or, Tm: Hana

Is RAGs. By Charles Morris.

13 The Golden Hand; or, DANDY

Roux TO THE Rascul. G. W. Browne.

1 3 The Hunted Hunter: or, Tns

STanoa lioasmux. By Ed. S. Ellis.

 Boss Bob, THE KING or Tns

BOOTBLACKS. By Edward L. Wheeler.

134 Sure Shot Seth. Tm: BOY Runs-

IIAN. By 011 Coomes.
135 Captain Paul. THE Moonsams
or KENTUCKY. B C. D. Clark.

1  Night-Hawk Kit ; or, 'l‘HI: DAUGn-

Taa or THE lasers. J. E. Badger, Jr.

 The Helpless Hand; or, BACK-

wmns RETRIBL'TION. Capt. Mayne Reid.

1  Blonde Bill; or, DEADWOOD DICK’I

Hour BASE. By Edward L. Wheeler.

1  Judge Lynch, J r.; on, Tm: Bor

VIOILAN'I‘E. By T. C. Harbaugh.
14 Blue Biases; on, Tm: BREAK 0'
DAY Bors. By Frank Burnout.
1 Solid Sam: OR. THE BOY OUTLAW.
By Edward L. Wheeler.

1 Handsome Harry, Tns BOOT.
sues Dmn'l. By Chas. Morris.
A new We every week.

The Half-Dime Library is for sale b V an
Newsdeelers. five cents per cofimr sent by m on
recei t of six cents each. ‘ DLE a ADAM
Pub hers. 98 “like!!! Street. New York.

For BALI Br

 

 

 

 

 

 

BEADLE’S

 

 

 

32 Large Three-Column Pages.

1. A Hard Crowd 3 OR, GENTLEMAN
RAH’S SISTER. By Philip S. Warne.

2. The Dare-Devil; OR, THE WINGED
WITCH or THE SEA. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

3. Kit Carson. Jr., THE CRACK SHOT ON
THE WEST. By Buokskiu Sam.

4. The Kidnapper; OR, THE GREAT
SHANGHAI or THE NORTHWEST. By Philip S. Warne.

5. The Fire-Fiends; 0R, HERCULES, THE
BUNCHHACK. By A. 1’. Morris.

6. Wildcat Bob, THE Boss BRUISER ;

OR, THE BORDER BLOODHOUNDS. By Edward L. Whee-
ler, author of “ Deadwood Dick,“ “ Double Daggers."

7. Death-Notch, THE DESTROYER; OR,
THE SPIRIT LAKE AVENGERS. By Oil Coomes.

8. The Headless Horseman. A strange
story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover.

10. Vidocq, THE FRENCH POLICE SPY.
Written by himself.

1 1. Midshipman Easy. By Capt. Mar-
ryat.

12. The Death-Shot; OR, TRACKED To
DEATH. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

13. Pathawa ; OR, NICK WHIFFLES, THE
OLD TRAPPER or THE ORTHWEST. By Dr. J. H. Rob-
Mean.

14. Thatvzerdanegea, THE SCOURGE ;
on, THE WAR- AGLE ON THE MOHAWKS. By Ned Bunt-
he, author of “ The White Wizard."

15. The Tiger-Slayer; 0R, EAGLE-
HEAD To THE RESCUE. By Gustave Almard.

1 6. The White Wizard; OR, THE GREAT

PROPHET or THE SEEINOLES. By Ned Buntiine.

l7. Nightshade, THE ROBBER PRINCE
w HOUNSLow HEATH. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

18. The Sea Bandit; OR, THE QUEEN
tr THE ISLE. By Ned Buntiine.

19. Red Cedar, THE PRAIRIE OUTLAW.
5.7 Gustave Aimard.

20. The Bandit at Bay; OR, THE PI-

RATES or THE PRAIRIES. By Gustave Aimard.

21. The Tra er’s Dan hter o
M OUTLAW’S FATEPpBy Gustave fimard. ; R,

22. Whitelaw; OR, NATTIE ON THE LAKE
home. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

23. The Red Warrior; OR, STELLA
DlLom’s COHANCHE LOVER. By Ned Buntiine.

2-1. Prairie Flower. By Gustave Ai-
lnard, author of “Tiger-Slayer." etc.

25. The Gold-Guide; 0R, STEEL ARE,
THE REGULATOR. By Francis Johnson.

26. The Death-Track; OR, THE OUT-
LAWS or THE MOUNTAIN. By Francis Johnson.

27. The Spotter-Detective: OR. THE
GIRLS or NEW ORE. By Albert W. Aiken.

28. Three-Fingered Jack, THE ROAD-
AGENT or THE Rooms; OR, THE BOYMINER or HARD
LUCK. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

29. Tiger Dick, THE FARO Kma; or,
THE CASHIER’S Can. By Philip S. Warne.

‘80. Gospel Geo ; or, FIERY FRED,
tHE OUTLAW. By Josep E. Badger. Jr.

31. The New York ‘8 3’ OR, THE
FLASH or LIGHTNING. By Albert W. iken.

32. B’hoys of Yale; OR, THE SCRAPES
DI'A HARD SET OFLCOIJMIANS. By John D. Vose.

mas. Overland Hit. By Albert w.
en.
34. Rocky 1!! tain Re .
bertW. Aiken. on b
85. Kentuek. the Sport. By Albert
W. Aiken. ,

36. Indun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken-

87. Hirl, the Hunchback; OR, THE
lWORDEAEERorTHESAN'I-EE. BnDr.J-B.Bohinsoa.

BY Al-

 

 

 

 

88. Velvet Hand; OR, THE IRON GRIP or
INJ'UN DICK. By Albert W. Aiken.

39. The Russian Spy: OR, THE BROTH-
ERS or THE STARRY CROSS. By rederick Whittaker.

40. The LonguxHaired ‘ Pards 3’ OR,
THE TARTARS or THE NS. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

41. Gold Dan; OR, THE WHITE SAVAGE
or THE GREAT SAM By Albert W. Aiken.

42. The California Detective; OR,
THE WITCHES or NEW YORK. By Albert W. Aiken.

43. Dakota Dan, THE RECKLESS RANGER;
or, THE BEE-HUNTERS‘ EXCURSION. By 011 Coomes.

44. Old Dan Rackback, THE GREAT
EETARHINATOR; or, THE TRIANGLE'S LAST TRAIL.
By 011 Coomes.

45. Old Bull’s Eye, THE LIGHTNING
SHOT or THE PLAINS. By Joseph E. Badger, JR.

46. Bowie-Knife Ben, THE LITTLE

HUNTER or THE NOR-WEST. By 011 Coomes.

47. Pacific Pete, THE PRINCE or THE
REVOLVER. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

48. Idaho Tom, THE YOUNG OUTLAW
or SILVERLAND. By 011 Coomes.

49. The Wolf Demon; or, THE QUEEN OF
THE KANAWHA. By Albert W. Aiken.

 

Err CARSON, m—NO. a

50. Jack Rabbit, THE PRAIRIE SPORT;
or, THE CHILDREN or THE LLANO ESTACADo. By Jos.
E. Badger. Jr.

51. Red Rob, THE BOY ROAD-AGENT.
By 011 Coomes.

52. Death Trailer, THE CHIEr or
SCOUTS' or Life and Love in a Frontier Fort. By
Hon. Wm. .Cody. (Buflalo 13111.).

58. Silver Sam; or, THE MYSTERY or
Deadwoon CITY. By Col. Delle Sara.

54. Always on Hand; or. THE SPORTIYE
SPORT or THE FOOT HILLS. B Philip S. Warne
author of “A Hard Crowd.” “ Patent Leather Joe."

55. The Scalp Hunters. A ROMANCE or
THE PLAINS. By\Capt. Mayne Reid.

56. The Indian M3183 ; or, THE
MAD MAN or THE PLAINS. By rt W. Aiken.

57. The Silent Hunter: or, THE SCOWL
HALL MYSTERY. By Percy B. St. John.

58. Silver Knife: or, WICKLIFF‘E, THE
ROCKY MOUNTAIN RANGER. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

59. The Man From Texas; or, THE
OUTLAW or ARKANSAS. By Albert W. Aiken.

60. Wide Awake; or, THE IDIOT or
THE BLACK HILLS. By Frank Dumont.

61. Ca Seawaifl TEE PRIVATEER.
By Ned Bun

LIBRARY;

Each Number Complete. Price 10 Chi.

82. Loyal Heart; or, THE TRAPPERS or
ARKANSAS. By Gustave Aimard.

83. The Winged Whale. By Albert
W. Aiken.

84. Double-Sight, the Death Show
By Joseph E. Badger, r.

65. The Red Rajah; or, THE SCOUROJ
or THE INDIES. By Captain Frederick Whittaker.

66. The Specter Barque. A TAU'
or THE PACIFIC. By Captain Mayne Reid.

67. The Boy Jockey; or, HONEST»
VERSUS CROOKEDNESS. By Joseph E. Badger. Jl.
88. The P hting‘ Tra or or K”
CARSON To THE Riga“. By Cap  F.,C. Adams

69. The Irish Captain: A TALE 0V
FONTENOY. By Captain Frederick Whittaker.

70. Hydrabad, THE STRANGLER; or
,THE CHILD or THE CORD. By Dr. J.B{
Robinson.

71. Captain Cool-Blade. or, THE MAN
SHARK OF THE MISSISSIPPI. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

72. The Phantom Hand. A STORY or
m YORK HEARTHS AND HOMES. By Albert W
en.

73. The Knight of the Red Cross:
or. THE MAGICIAN or GRANADA. A Tale of the Al-
hambra. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

74. Captain of the Rifles. A ROMANCD
or THE MEXICAN VALLEY. By Captain Mayne Reid

75. Gentlemen George, or, PARLOR,
PRISON, STAGE AND STREET. By Albert W. Aiken.

76. The Queen’s Musketecr, r‘r,
THISEE, THE PRINCESS PALEIST. By George Albo. 3

7'7. The Fresh of Frisco. or, T‘ n
HEIRESS or BUENAVENTUM. By Albert W. Aiken,

78. The Mysterious Spy; or, GOLDEI-
FEATHER, THE BUCOANEER‘S DAUGHTER. By A. M
Grainger.

79. Joe Phenix, THE POLICE SPY. B3
Albert W. Aike‘ n.

80. A Man of Nerve; or, CALIEAN,
THE DWARr. By Philip S. Warne.

81. The Human Tiger: or, A HEAR-
or FIRE. By Albert W. Aiken.

82. Iron Wrist. the Swordmastor.
By Col. Thomas H. Monstery.

83. Gold Bullet Sport; or, THE KNICH i.
or THE OVERLAND. By Buffalo Bill.

84. Hunted Down; or, THE WHn-p
WITCH. By AlbertW. Aiken.

85. The Cretan Rover: or, ZULEIHAII,
THE BEAUTIFUL. By Col. Prentice Ingraham.

88. The Big Hunter; nr, THE QUEEN
or THE WOODS. By the author or “ Silent Hunter.“

87. The Scarlet Ca tain; or, TLH
PRISONER or THE TOWER By 1. Delle Sara.

88. Bi Geo:- e, THE GIANT or In
GULCH: or. HEFIVE UTLAW BROTHERS. By Jou 1.3
E. Badger, Jr.

89. The Pirate Prince: or, PRETTY
NELLY. THE QUEEN or THE ISLE. By 001. Premise
Ingraham

90. Wild Will, THE MAD RANCHEEO.
or. THE TERRIRLE TEXAN. By Buckskin Sam.

91. The W Oar; or, THE INN
EEEPER’S DAUGHTER. By lbert W. Aiken. .

Ready April 7th.

92. Buhlo Bill. THE BUCKSKIN KING;
or THE AHAEON or THE WEST. By Major Danger-
field Burr. Ready April 2m.

93. Captain Dick Talbot, KING '0!
THE ROAD; or,'I‘HE BLACK-Hoops or SHASTA. By
Albert W. Aiken. Ready May 5th.

Amiemeverytwowuka

Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale all
Newsdealers, ten cents per copy or sent by m on
BEADLE & ADAMS

 

recei t of twelve cents each.
Pahiflherl. as William Street, New York.

5. . .

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