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VOI‘XXV° w°d“°'d‘y' 9:: WILLIAM STREET. N. \'., December 10‘ 18M. 85-00 I You. N 0' 

THE GENTEEL SPOTTBR: or, The Night Hawks of New York.

BY ALBERT W- AIKEN,

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‘ The» enteel Spotter. K

 

The Genieel Spotter ;
The Night Hawks of New York,

A Tale of the Lawless.

 

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,
nurses or “THE DEMON DETECTIVE." “OVER-
LAND arr " “ BAT or THE BATTERY,”
" ranaor or CINNABAR,” are.

' , CHAPTER I.

' o N 'r H a a! v n R .

TE)! 0’ the night, no‘ moon visible. and only a
few stars peering through the blanket of dark-
nos.

Lonely enough it was on the river,,for quite
a fog had swe t in from the ocean, and the
liglhgegn the s ores could hardly be dietin-
gn . . l

The water was almost deserted, for the night
wuso thick that only those crafts absolutely
oligged to be abroad cared to brave the peril.

ver
hull some river steamer would loom up in
the darkness, as it forged through the mist, or
the broad-back ferry-boats would cut a lane
with their lights through the darkness.

We write of the great city of New York, our
modern Babylon, renowned for its wealth, and
e ually renewned for its crime.

ew York I. .iimr is famous throughout
Curietendom for its beauty :inl s‘uf—‘v.

The navies of the world might ride therein.

On the west of the city sweeps the broad
Hudson, or the North river, as it is usually
termed in the Metropolis, and the narrow strait
that connects the waters of Long Island Sound
with the Atlantic ocean, emptying info New
York Bay, washes the other shore of the city
until at the Battery. as the little park at the
extremit of Manhattan Island is culled, it
forms a firnction with the Hudson, and the two,
ex ending, make New York Ba v.

’Fhis passage is known as the East river, and
on the night of which we write, a small boat
had shot out from a dark nook. nearly opposite
to the Navy Yard on the. Long Island shore, and
to the south of the point which in bygone days
was known as Corlear’s Hook.

Within the boat were two men. and it glided
through the water so noiselessly that had a
keen observer chanced to notice it he would
surel have been obliged to rub his eyes and
ask irit was not a hantom craft which he be-
held—a sort of mo ern Flying Dutchman on a
small scale—or a creation of a disordered
, brain.

The oar-locks were evidently muffled. for not
the slightest sound came from them as the oars
rose and fell.

There was just the splash of the water-drops
as they fell from the broad blades into the
stream, yet so carefully and so skillfully did the
two oarsmen pl their sweeps that the sound of
the stroke coul not be distinguished above the
dash of the waves. . _

The wind was blowinfl' in fltful gusts, making
a short, choppy sea, whereon the white-caps
could be distinguished every now and then.

The boat was painted a dark green, so it was
exactl the color of the water through which it
made ts way.

The men in the boat were dark clothes, blue
flannel shirts. and oilekin hats. popularl known
as sou’weahrra, hate with wide brlms wh could
be pulled low down on the forehead, and capes
behind to t the neck.

A pair :- “smack” fishermen. as the
crews of the vessels that cruise alas the coast
from. Long Island to Nahtuchet, an who an
ply the New York market with deep-sea ,
are called. ,

 

But no honest fishermen would have occasion

to be at such an bound the night. and
rowing too in a boat provided with mauled

oars. .
Any city man well-posted in regard to the
habits of the criminal closeupwou dn’t have
had an dinoulty in guessing the riddlo'of those
mvata ous oar-amen.
‘ They were river thieves—river rats—as they
, as... commonly termed, who prey upon the ox-
; flipping lying at anchor in the stream.
. . gh their spies they are kept wall-in-
fdflod of the condition of all newly-arrived

I m crowdanxioizhtohgt on shore aftera
W. s anacon as possible
nutfthe crafts are left in  of one or two

men. '

The captain often sleeps on board, and some
of these worth marlnm are foolish enough to
keep considers lo inone in their cabins.

In the dead hourso the night. selecting a
time when the moon does not shine, the river
rate. with mauled oars, pull alon side of the
ship on board of which their spies ave discov-
ered or suspected, there is plunder worth some
Rouble to obtain. ,

Watchmen are but human, and ‘the best of
them will nod sometimes.

now and then, at long intervals, the-

 

 

Often the first intimation the guardian of the [

craft has of danger is when he finds thc mule
of a rsvolwr pressed against his temple and a
hoarse voice assures him that if he attem is to '
give the slightest alarm his brains will to lown V
out upon the instant. ‘ i

There’s hardly one man out of ten thousand "
who wouldn’t “weaken” under such circum- '
stances. ' 1

Then the watchman is bound. gagged. and the 
merauders “g0 ” for‘the captain in the cabin. 4

And these river rats are generally despe rate I
men too. who will not hesitate to take life if re- l
sistance is offered, or their escape is impeded.

Of all the rascals that infest a big city the 1
river rats are the ,u lest to handle and the po- ’
lice fear them the m t. ,

The police force employed to patrol the rivor
is totally insufficient, as it is impossible for the
police boat to “ cover” the entire river front in
a satisfactory manner. '

The thieves have a great advantage, for after
the police boat has passed a certain point on its 3
rounds it is an impossibllitv for it to return to
that point again for four or five hours.

So. when the gang make up their mind to pa
a visit to some craft anchored in the stream, a 1
they have to do is to wait in the shadows of
some dark nook on the shore, in the shelter of
the piers, near to the. vessel which they intend
to attack, until the police boat has passed; then
the are pretty certain of a clear field, with
littre danger of interruption, for four or five
hours.

The tide was a strong ebb, within an hour of
its end, and was racing seaward at a speed of
fully l< ur knots an hour.

The mysterious boat, after getting well out ?
into the stream, pointed its prow seaward, fol- I
lowing the ecurse of the tide.

{The police boat had passed ten minutes be-
ore. '

And for the police boat the river rats had been
on the watch.

Now they were follow ing in its track.

It was easy enough for the marauders to kee
watch of the patrol craft, sweeping along wit
its many pairs of cars, and that is where the
river rats have such a decided advantage ovu-
the police.

They can distinguish the patrol boat afar and
so are able to kee out of its way, but it is an
almost impossibi ity for the police to discover
the dark boat of the river thieves, with its muf-
fled oars, stealing phantom-like through the
“'fliPl‘.

“Everything is O. K.,” the stroke-(mrsman
remarked, a well-built, muscular fellow, with a.
singularly pleasant voice.

“ You bet.” responded his companion, who
was a thick-set. short, burly man, who, to judge
from his figure, was possessed of wonderful
stren . th. “ Where does the craft lie?”

“ be other side of Governor‘s Island, off Com-
munipaw."

“And you think there's a chance fora tidy
bit of swag?”

“ So Red Bari-v says. He’s been piping her
06 for a week. She’s a Dutchman, an oil-chip,
laden with petroleum for Bremen. She ong t
to have sailed to-day, but she has had trouble in
shipping her crew, and so will not get away
unti the day after to-morrow.

“ There’s only a watchman on board, and a
son of one of the owners: a young fellow in

or health, who is returning to his native
and.

“ He has been operating in the stock market,
and, as the result of a successful turn last week.
he carries with him about twenty thousand dol-
lars in Government bonds.

“These Dutchmen, you know, are 'great he-
llevers in United States securities.

“ Now, there’s only this sick man and a single
watchman—a thickvheaded Irishman. on board
of the craft to-night to guard the twenty thou-
sand dollars, and if we can’t ‘catch on ’ to the
boodle it will be a wonder.” . -

“ That’s so!”

“ The haul is a big one, although we shall
have to divvy with Red Barry. and some other
party whom Red Barry represents, and that in
cloth in the broker’s office where the young
Dutcbtninan got the bonds, and who really put up
the .

"l‘ here’s plenty for all “of. he.” observed the
ot or. .
“Better slack up a little and let that “ferry-
boat pass us, then pass under her stern,”. re-
marked the first man, abruptly.

Tiny were right in We track of the boats
Which run from the South Ferry to Eamllton
fleece. Brooklyn, and the taller fellow had no-
ticed that one of the boats was so close upon
them that it would be no easy matter toch
horbown.

They ceased rowing and allowed the craft to
arm with the tide. -

The ferry-boat swept by them, and just as
she cased. a female sprung from the stern of
the erry-boat into the water.

Some desperate soul, tired of life, had chosen
this wild way of Ihnflllng off the mortal coil.

Not a person on board the ferry-boat noticed
this desperate attempt at self—destruction.

There were very few passengers on the boat,

 

 

.from every land

 

and all of them were in the forward cabins.
with the exception of the hapless woman who
had elected to find a grave beneath the surface
of the rushing tide.

“ Great heavens! did you See that?” cried the
taller fellow, greatly exci'ed.

He had happened to turn his head just as the
woman leaped ()VE‘l‘l‘A‘fll‘d, and 80 had a full
view of the daring attempt.

“Yes; the durned fool !” observed the other.

“Sheeny, that girl must be saved! Draw in
your oars and grab her when she comes to the
surface 1”

“ Are you mad? What is her life or death to
us?” cried his companion, astounded.

“To you nothing, but to me much: l'know
her! I thought we had parted forever, but
since fate has seen fit to bring us together again
in this strange way, if she is willing to share my
fortunes she is welcome.”

Inside of a minute the woman, who was sin-
gulasly beautiful, was in the boat. She was
save .

 

CHAPTER ll.
SPIDER AND rLY.

LONG ago, before the war, one of the wards
of the great city of New York was popularlv
known as the Bloody Sixth, and it was gener-
ally believed that it was as much as a man’s
life was worth for an officer to attempt to take
after nightfall any well-known criminal, po
nlar among fellows of his kidney, out of certa n
districts in the ward.

It was the abiding-place of some of the most
prominent men be onging to that vast collec-

, tion known as the dangerous classes of New

York.

When a police ofiicer, or a detective collared
one of these follows, some man “ wan ” for a
big crime,‘for they rarely attempted to, seize
any “two-penny rascale,’ within the limits of
the Bloody Sixth, his associates seemed to fair-
ly rise out of the ground to oppose the arrest.

From the windows the women hurled brick-
bats and all sorts of missiles upon the heads of
the officers, and it generally took a small army
of men to secure a risoner.

The fame of the loody Sixth Ward has van-
ished before the march of modern improve-
ment.

No more do tales of officers assaulted and
half or wholly killed in the discharge of their
duty, or vivid descriptions of the bloodv battle
between the Dead Rabbits and the Bowerv
Boys, the two rival clans who disputed the
supremacy of the ward, fill the columns of the
daily newspapers.

C vilization shakes hands with itself and
cries out that crime has been stamped out, and
the rascals transformed into honest men.

But it isn’t anything of the kind, as any well-
informed police official or diligent reporter can
testify.

Crime and the criminal classes are like a
virulent sore upon the body corporate.

The foul matter comes to the surface; strong
medicines are applied and the sore disappears.

It is cured?

Not at all!

It is simply driven inward to appear at some
other spot.

The name of the Bloody Sixth is no longer a
by-word and a re roach to the city, but the
criminal classes stll exist, stronger and more
dangerous than over.

They have only been driven to other quarters
by the stron arm of the law.

.The F0 'Wnrd it one of the smallest in the
city, lying along the river front on the east side
of town, a squalid, miserable quarter, where
the honest poor. b .thodire stress of verty,
are driven to hard
of tenementohouaaa with wretched outcasts
and mime-stained criminals,
ranging from the b0 thief, who pllfers from
the street stands, to t o despeme and burglar
who would not hesitate at any moment to
commit murder to obtain ten dollars’ worth of
plunder, provided there was the smallest chance

of escaping. .

~ In this district, too, are a large number of
sailor hohrding-houaeaeomeof them respectable
places, and others the vileat done that man ever

entered.

Peor Jack fresh from sea. with his wages in
hiuhpocket, if he is once induced to enter one' of
these caverns of despair never gets out while he
has a cent of money left.

If he is not robbed outri rt of his money, he

" is induced to drink, and so is hard earnings are

moths: friam him.
a e t rec men blocks in this ward,
Cheri-v street 'Boosevelt to Catherine,

visit it about nine o’clock on a pleasant even-
ing, and you will see there a sight that you

old hardly believe could exist in a great city

ike New York.

Talk about the slums of London. or the dons
a: f’aris,l we! can mutt-aghgm hierethright in our

9 iropo us, or root t am n in respect 1.
not a whit behingd her older sisters.

The looker—on will see vice so openly floated
in :is face that his heart will grow sick at the
sig i.

Not only old and hardened wretches, but child

n the most mieera le kind ‘

\

o—i-e



ma‘

. . _.a._;L—_ c.._:..

' in undone to make the scheme a success.

 

 

- dren of tender years, both iris and boys, al- 5

ready far advanced on that road avanue that
leads directly to the gates of hell.

on, let us send more money and men abroad 
to convert the heathen of tar-oi! lands, nor
waste a thought upon these miserable wretches, :
sinking in the whirlpool of vice right in our f
midst. ‘

And, gentle stranger, have a care! If you take
a tour of inspection after nightfall in this local i
ity, wear not costly raiment, nor glittering dia- ,
monds; show not the color of gold, for it will ‘,
be as much as your life is worth.

You will be keenly scrutinizod by the eyes of |
desperate men and women, who possess as little ‘
pit. as the ravaging wolves, and who will rend
an tear a prey with as little remorse as a bun-
grv tiger.

The water is near at hand, the deep, ever-
moving arm of the sea known as the East river;
the tides are always sweeping up and down.

It is an easy matter to slips body into the
water from the end of some deserted pier, when
the mantle of night veils the earth, and who is
the wiser?

In a Week or a month, maybe, the sea gives
up his dead.

The body is bruised altnost beyond recognition
by the action of the waves, the attacks of the
fishes, or by bumping against the wharves or
other obstructions.

The papers chronicle:

“The body of an unknown man was taken from
the water yesterday. No valuables, or papers to da-
note who he was. were upon the corpse. It was
taken to the Morgue.“

At the dead—house it is kept for a brief period
and then carried awn to a pauper‘s grave.

And in some far estern town, or distant
Eastern hamlet, or perchance across the stormy
seas, a sorr0wing wife, mourning mother and
anxious children wait for the husband, son, or
parent, who will never return, having fallen a
victim to these modern Thugs, who render the
life of a stranger so unsafe in our great Me.
tropolis.

But now for our tale.

it is a little after nine at night, and a couple
of well-dressed gentlemen both of whom had
evidently imbibed mone liquor than was good
for them, proceeding through Cherry street at-
tracted general attention.

And no wonder, for one of them was well-
known Bristol Bill, probably the most expert.
and daring scoundrei that overcloyed England
ever sent to our shores.

And there was hardly a man, woman or child
in the street. that did not recognize, at the first
glance, this hero of a hundred crimes.

Bristol Bill was the champion of his class.
Head and shoulders he stood above any other
rascal in the country. in the estimation of the
police and. the men who make up the criminal
classes.

He had not only the courage of a bull-dog,
but the brains of s. statesman, and the cunning
of a criminal lawyer as well.

A good-lookim, gentlemauly-appearing man
of about forty: no one not acquainted with the
man could possibly have guessed, after the
closest inspection, that the were looking upon
the most notorious cn’mina of the age.

A lucky man, too—so lucky that the more su-
perstitious of his associates declared that at an
early period of his career he must certainly
havo entered into rtnership with the devil, or
else he never coul have got on so well.

But the spirits to whose aid Bristol Bill owed
all his success were the twin brothers, Audacity
and Caution.

He was as reckless as though he bore a
charmed life, and yet he hen-r entered upon an
enterprise until he had carefully examined it in
all its bearings, and once embarked he left noth-

 

course Fortune does not smile always on
the best of men. and there had been times when
owing to the chance of accident, things had

wrong.

The satellites of the law had closed in upon
him in half a doseu uses. and he had fought
with the desperation of a tiger brought to be i
and nevor yet in his career of crime had e
been caught red~handed in an i-ifense, so suc-
oessful had he been in either evading or heating
0! the officers.

Naturally, the a rauce of Bill in company .
with a well-dress young man, a blood. evi-
dently. and somewhat the worse for liquor,
amused the daniaeas of the locality.

Clearly, Bristol Bill had picked up a flat and
was steerin him to some convenient .placo
where he in ght be nil-lied at leisure—and mur-
dered, without fear of detection, if he objected
to the operation._

Bin guided his companion along the street
until they came to a saloon which dis layed a
anal-ng light before its door, and ram the
ate came the sounds of a harp and violin.

A couple of wanderln ltalian minstrels were
stationed inside to turn music for the cus-
tomers.

“I as , let’s go in here and see what the
place is ike.” Bristol Bill suggested. as he and

is companion came n to the saloon.

“ All right,”an the other, with a hic-

 

 

The GenteeISpotter.

cough, which seemed to indicate that he had
taken all the liquor he could stand.

The two entered the saloon.

Bristol Bill nodded to the roprietor, a short.
thick-set Irishman, with n cry-red head and
a bristling mustache of the same hue, like an
old acquaintance.

“It’s too public here,” Bill said to his com-
panion, as he glanced around the room. “ Let‘s
go in back to the private apartment: we can
have a bottle of wine in ace and quiet there.”

“ That’s the kind 0’ tal ' I like—bottle of wine

I—two bottles 0’ wine. first-rate!" replied the

other, and just then he made a stumble and
but for the support of Bill's arm wou'd have
fallen.

“Take care, old fellow. this floor is dent-ed
uneven,” the master—secundrel cautioned.

“Yesh, so it is—deuced uneven,” mumbled
the other.

“Come along, then: I’m posted; I’ve been
here before."

Then Bristol Bill conducted his companion
out into the entry like one well acquainted
with the way; and no wonder, for this low den
was the rascal’s chief resort when obliged to
keep shady and out of the sight of the emcers
of the law for any length of time, and there
wasn't a soul in the house but was eager to do
his bidding. _
CHAPTER llI.

a suaramn.

THE room into which Bristol Bill took the
young man was a medium sized apartment
situated in the rear of the house, on the first
floor.

It was plainly furnished, all the articles with
in the room betrayin signs of Ion wear.

There was an old- ashioned ma ogan ' table
in the center of the apartment, in whic some
reckless fellow had cut deep gushes apparently
for mere amusement, or possibly for the pur-

' of discovering whether it was really
mahogany or not.

An antique, hair-cloth sofa. a. few chairs,
com anionopieces to the sofa, and an extremely
odd- coking higirbacked armchair, a relic of a
far-distant age. a massive cumbersome piece
of furniture, such as is seldom seen outside of
an old curiosity-shop.

The two windows in the back of the room
were covered by heav curtains, so it was im—
possible for any one without to see what tran-
spired within.

A plain, two light gas fixture, pendent from

the ceiling, directly over the table aflorded
i hr.
“Now then, James, in boy, this is what I
call comfortable!” Bria Bill exclaimi d, after
they had entered the room. “Take the arm-
chair, old fellowi There it is, rightat the table,
just as if it had expected you: . .

“And I’ll give the tipple a name thistiine
myself, and it. shall be flzethe real genuine old
gooseberryl",

And Bill seized the small hand-bell that was
on the table and runglit lustily. .

His companion in t e meantime sunk intothe
arm-chair, which being provided with heavy
cushions felt del. idedl y comfortable.

“ Fin is first-rate," remarked the oung man,
with a thickened tongue, his articu ation ain-
ly betraying that he had had all the drin that
was good for him.

An illlookiug young man. with a bullet head,
the hair cropped, Sing Sing- style, promptly
made his appearance.

“A uart bottle of £2, Johnny. and look
sharp a ut it, tool” Bill ordered.

.The waiter ducked his bullet head and re-

ti .

“ Fiz is the stud—first-rate,” remarked the
young man, having evidently arrived at that
state when ideas were as hard to get as to ex-
press.

"Oh, We’ll make a night of it so long as we
have commenced!" Bill exclaimed. no more the
worse for the strong drink which he had taken
than if it had been so much water.

“Big thing—make a bully night of it,” hic-
ooughod the other.

The waiter returned withthe champs no and
glasses, placed them upon the table, t en un-
it‘lorléed the bottle and served the sparkling

ui . , -

“ Here's the rhino and a quarter for yourself,
Johnay,”.said Bill.

The waiter pocketed the money with a grin,
ducked his head and retired.

Hardly had the door closed behind him when
Bill pretended that he wanted to say something
to the waiter. and setti down the glass which
he had just raised to his ip8. hurried after him.

“ Iiere, Johnny!" he cried. as heopened the
door and looked into the entry; but the man was
out of sight.

“i wanted to tell him to fetch us another
bottle in fifteen or twenty minutes.” be ex—
plained to his companion when he returned to
the table. ,

But it wasn‘t anythin of the kind.

It was a dodge to ge an opportunity to lock
the door, which he performed in the most admit
manner. the lock, contrary to what might be
expected in such a house, being a modern one,

 

and the key moved in its wards without a par-
ticle of noise.

It was an old trick of Bristol Bill's and had
neVer failed to work in the most satisfactory
manner.

In this case, although satisfied that his prey
was too much under the influence of liquor to
trouble his head about the matter. even if he
had locked the door openly, yet he had acted
with his usual caution.

Great was his astonishment than upon return-
ing to the table to discover that an entirely dif-
ferent expression was upon the face of the man
whom he had destined for his victim.

Bristol Bill was not a man easily surprised,
and even if he was, his Wonderful nerve was
such that he seldom showed it, tut this time he
did.

“You did that trick very neatly. Bi‘l." re-
marked the young man, all traces of intoxica-
tion having disap ared as if by magic.

“ Ver neatly, indeed," be continued, “ and
if I ha not watched you as narrowly as a cat
watches a mouse 1 should not have tumbled to
the thing.”

“ What do you mean?” cried Bristol Bill, com-
pletely at a loss to know what to make of this
strange aflair.

“ Why, you have locked the door: having suc-
ceeded in inducing the victim to go into the
trap, 'ou want to make a sure thing by cutting
ofl' al chance of retreat.”

The outlaw looked at the speaker earnestly.

He was not disguiSed, that was plain, so his
guess that the _\ oung man might be a detective.
got up as a blood, ixpressly to trap him was not
correct.

Besides. there was hardly adetective in the
country that amounted to anything with whom
he Was not acquainted, and this young fellow
was certainly a stranger to him.

The outlaw had encountered him at the Fifth
AVenue Hotel that evening and perceived he
was slightly under the influence of liquor, and
provided too with a good big roll of bills, t0—
gether with some valuable trinkets, a costly

old watch and chain, a diamond pin and ring,
be two worth five or six hundred dollars, and
as Bristol Bill’s finances just at that period
were at a low—water mark, he conceived the idea
of pos=essing himself of the young man’s valu-
ables.

He succeeded in scraping an aiquaintance
with the stranger; they had indulged inseversl
drinks together and then had taken aback to
see a little‘of the dark side of New York life, so
it had been an easy matter to conduct the young
man to the Cherry street den.

“ You see in this matter I rather have the ad‘
vantage of you," the othercontinued. 1‘ I rech~
nized your race the moment I set eyes upon it,
while. npersonally. you don't know me from
Adam. ' r

“ Oh,.is that so?" exclnlmed Bristol Bill, com-
pletel m stifled by the strange stair.

" es, s r, that’s the truth. and that‘s the rea-
son why I hssumed the air of a. man who had
been drinkin more than was good for him,”
the other rep ied. "‘ I laid a trap for min and
you fell into it immediately. lnsteaddf trick-
ing me you were tricked yourself, but that is
inelway it often happens in this world, Bristol

1 .

The outlaw gave a slight start, i or the revel»
tion of his name convinced him that the other
really did know him. ' ,

“ gun are  P‘Ihe ilemandedéad. h ,

“ our dea‘ y 09. i‘espon ,t e g
man, instantly. and at the same time propacilgg
a r'evolver from under the table: he had im-
gzloved the o rtnnity of Bristol Bill’s back

'ng turned him, when the outlaw had tot
out to call the waiter, to draw the weapoan
his gocke
T e affair grew more and more mysterious,
and thedes erado was utterly at a loss to know
what to ma 1: of it.

One thing though was sure.

The young man had him at a most terrible
disadvantage.

“ What id I ever do to you?“ he asked, in n
ravage tone, bis,ragc excited by the fact that
the other had secnr d an advanta e, a had
worked the job so cleverly, too, t at Bil had
not the sli htest suspicion that anything was
wrop unti the in: was sprung.

“ y name is R0 and Yorke.”

Bristol Bill shook, his head; he had never
hears the name before.

3' he name is strange to you?"

“ Yes, it is.”

“ But your name is not strange to me, William
Armstage.”

Bristo Bill lared hard at the speaker.

“ Whether t is your real name, or merely
one of yownmeroushliases’, I have not been
able to d r but it doesn t matter. I have
learnedthat ll am Armatage and the blood-
staiaed criminal, Bristol Bill, are one and the
same, and that is all I want.

“ I have hunted you down, and now the hour
of reckoning has come.”

“What have I ever done to youf’ Bristol
Bill demanded, vainl racking his brains to try
and connect the apes er with some event of his
past life.

4

.—

 

‘ Do you remember Ihsamoud Kendricksoni’

The outlaw winced, despite his wonderful
nerve.

Tue name recalled an ugly memory.

“I see you do by the expression upon our
face. She was the bells of the little ham ct in
which she lived, a guileless, aimless creature un-
till you threw the baleful shadow of your pres-
ence over her young life.

"‘ It is the old story of the serpent entering
Eden. You seemed like a gentleman—you
posed in that quiet little village as a city mer-
chant, seeking recreation, and all the time you
and your pals were plotting the robbery of the
village bank, and for your own private amuse—
ment you won the heart of the country maiden.

“ And when the robbery of the lrimk was ac—
com lished, you fled with your Confederates,
leav ng her to shame and ruin.

“She bore up for a time, for she could not
'bring herself to believe that the man who had
won her young aflcctious in whom she confided
as only woman can confide in man was not a
gentleman but a rascully scoundrel, not even
honest with his fellow-men, but a wretch for
whose person, the doors of a dozen jails Were
yawning wide.

“But at last the lime came when the truth
became known, and when her parents discov-
ered she had become the victim of a miserable
scoundrel, who had fled in fear of an outra ed
law, they, poor, weak-minded, bigoted fanat cs,
drove her forth, helpless upon the world.

“ She had committed one sin, and they gave
her no alternative but to commit others or die——
to lead a life of shame or seek oblivion in the
grave. All this was years ago. Death, no

oub soon claimed her. but you, her destroyer,
still i yo, and I intend to make you pay dearly
for your crime!”

CHAPTER 1V.
mo run name.

“08, that's what’s the matter!" exclaimed
Bristol Bill, drawing a long breath, evidently
much relievod. “And you don’t reall mean
to say that you have taken all this troub a about
a little thing like that?”

“Do you thus characterize the ruin of a
young girl’s life?” cried the avenger, indig-
nantl .

“ ell, I own that it wasn’t exactly the
s uarc thing, but I intended to stick to the
g rl and see that she got along all right,” Bris-
tol Bill replied. "The police at after me
thongt , on acco not of the bank usiness, and I
hadn anythin to do with it, either, just hap-
piening to be u the town by accident at the

me—and they made the country so deuced
hot for awhile that I had to get out of it.

“When I came back I attempted to find the
girl, but she was among the missing and no one

new what had become of her.”

“ A lame explanation i” cried the other, scorn-
full . “You are a double—dyad villain, and it
is a ut time that your career of guilt came to
an end.”

“ Well, what is your little game in this mat—
ter, an way!” asked Bristol Bill in a dogged
tone. w ch seemed to indicate that he was not
inclined to tamer submit.

“To deliver you up to the authorities, who
are anxious to send you to the prison you so
richlv deservol” the other answered, imme-
diatoly.

“ That is, you mean, suppose I knuckle, scared
by your revolver, and surrender."

‘ f on do not surrender, 1’" drive a ball
throng you with as little ceremony as though
you were but a maddog P

“You feel rfectly sure about doing that
little dob rl h up to the handle and no mis-
takel’ cried ill, a sneer upon his lips.

“Most certainly I do. I've a couple of de-
tectfves watchingI the house on the outside, and

on must not t ink that your associates will

able to rescue you, for the officers are armed
and will not hesitate to use their weapons.”

“8an I show fight, and your revolver
{nines e—what then?" questioned the out-
aw.

“If you are willing to run the chances on
that, I am,” the young man replied, and there
was an earnest look in his eyes, and. a in ex-
pression about his resolute mouth whic plainly
revealed to Bristol Bill—an excellent judge of
character-that the other was determined to
ca ure him even at the risk of life.

‘You have me in a tight place, and having
got the deadwood on me, of course I shall have
to l; but I say, who are you, anyway?

" on have worked this job allc enough,
and though I am not ivon to boastin , Iain

mud to say that this s the first‘time risml
hm was ever brought to hay by a single man.”

“ I a only an amateur in that line, but i be-
lieve I have some little talent in that direction,
and henceforth I will ado t the business.”

“Yes; and call yourss f the ‘Dandy Detecc
tive,' and ‘ The C ty Tho hbred ’ and ‘ The
Genteel e am; " exclaimed ristoi am, with
a jeeriog sngh. “ There's fins titles for you 1"

"Whatever I may be called, I will try to
make a name thut rascals of all grades will
tremble to hear!" the young man replied, with
firm determination.

 

 

“She Genteel Spotter,

“ Oh, the Dandy Detective is the name: that
fits you exactly, and you will make a name mo,
if you are not cut 03 in the flower of your
youth, for see haw easily you pulled the wool
over my eyes, and led me like a lamb to the
slaughter, the first man, as I told you, that ever
took me into camp, single-handed.

“ That’s a bi feather in your cap as a starter,
youn man. a, ha, ha!”

An the outlaw laughed as if he had given

v utterance to an exCellent joke.

Yorke looked surprised. for he could not un—
derstand what had got into the fellow.

Then there was a sudden “click, click 3” as if
spine delicate machinery had been set in mo-
t on.

Roland Yorke was leaning back in the big

‘ chair, his arms resting upon the chair-arms,

which were unusually high.

Out from the chair came steel bands which
coiled like so many serpents around the arms,
the wrists, the legs and the neck of the man-
hunter.

The piece of furniture had been modeled on
the old fashioned torture-chair which in by-
gone days plafyed so prominent a part in the
proceedin o the secret tribunals presided
over by t e black-robed ministers of the Inqui-
sition.

Rowland Yorke was entrapped.

He could not move either and or foot, and
as he had neglected to cook the revolver, he was
utterly helpless.

“Ha, ha, hai” inn hed Bristol Bill, as he
moved to the side of t e prisoner and tore the
revolwr out of his hand; “the tables are turned
now, in lad, I fancy, and Bristol Bill is not so
much og’a prisoner as he was.

“You are completely in the snare! You
might yell and scream at the top of your lungs
and no one would hear on.

“ The walls are thick, the entr guarded by
double doors, the music is in in] blast in the
saloon, the men and girls are dancing there,
and nothing short of a steam-whistle screeching
in here would be able to attract attention from
any one outside.

"You have heard of the old saying of the
tra per entrapped? it fits your case exactly."

he young man bore the surprise like a hero-
rfiot a muscle of his face betrayed a sign oi
ear.

When the steel bands had first clasped his
limbs he had attem ted to struggle, but dcsisted
in a moment, bav ng satisfied himself that the
strength of a giant would hardly have summed
to burst the bonds which restrained his free-

dom.

Bristol Bill had watched him closely, expect-
in an outcry, and was surprised to see how
ca ml he took the matter.

” ell, you're a plucky rooster anyhow,” he
muttered. “ Say, huva you any idea what I’m
goin to do with you?” he asked.

“ 0, not the slightest,” the other replied, in
a perfectl calm voice, and without evincing a
particle 0 fear.

“ Of course you understand that thinking on
to be a you blood with more money t an
brains, I brou I‘ht you into this room w th the
intention of he pin myself to your valuables.

“As you have oubtleea guessed, for i am in-
clined to think you have a little more brains
than the average man, this room is a den, ex-
pressly fitted for the pur e of plundering men
with money enough on t eir persons to make it
worth my while.

“ The wine in the bottle is not drugged, for if
I happen to get hold of a fellow whose head is
not entire] gone, he would instantly suspect
that somet in was wrong if I pressed him to
drink and re rained from indulging myself,
bait tbs man drinks hocused wine all the same
t on .

“ you glance carefully at the bottom of one ,
: sation with himself as long as his voice held out.

of the glasses you will see a few drops of a
colorless liquid there; it looks like water, but it
isn't: it’s a dru . potent enough to throw the
strongest man 0 is halanco.

“ It is always easy enough to force that glass
on the victim, and do the trick so neatly, too
that he will not suspect the glass was forced
onnhim, but thinks he\took it of his own free
w .

“ Once he drinks he is gone.

i ‘1‘ Then, if he is not in that chair, I put him
n t.

“ A touch of my foot on a secret spriil here
under the table set the machinery to war that
nabbed you so nicely.

“ Another sprin puts into operation another
hit of machinery t at operates the trap, worked
on the elevator plan, so the chair descends
through the door into the cellar, and there the
man can be operated u at leisure.

“ There are cases w on it is necessary that
the plundered man should never come aim out
of that cellar.

“ It is easily arranged, too. and without put-
ting an one to the necessity of shedding the
blood 0 the victim.

“ The cellar is the resort of an enormous num-
ber of rats, great overgrown fellows, with teeth
as sharp as razors, the rodents that scamper
about the docks at night.

" When the stranger is left alone in the dark-

‘ ness, these vermin come from their holes and
, pounce u n the helpless man with the ferocity
* of ti ers ong deprived of food.

“ an c you will hardly believe me when
I tell you that l have known them to make
so complete a meal of a man in one night
that when I went in the morning there wasn‘t
a particle of flesh upon his white and glistening
bones.”

Despite his firm nerves. Rolard Yorke could
not repress a shudder as Bristol Bill, with studied
coolness, told his tale.

“ It makes your blood run cold and your flesh
cree eh, when you reflect upon it!" cried Bria-
tol ill, with a fiendish smile.

“ Well, that’s the way I serve inquisitive do.
tectives who run me too close.

“No man ever yet brought me to buy that he
did not disappear, and no one could discover
how or Where he died.

“That’s the kind of a reputation I am work-
ing to gain. The man who attempts to follow
me goes to certain death!

“ b‘o, good-by to you, Mr. Roland Yorke!”

The master scoundrel pressed the s ring, and
slowly the chair descended into the ct» lar.

The cellar was a deep one, and the. air was
foul and thick.

The rats scampered to their holes in a perfect
swarm, as the chair descended and the light
from the trap—door dimly illuminated the foul
pit, but so fearless were ihey ct intrusion that
they did not entirely retire but crouched at the
entrance of their holes and gased with glisten-
ing eyes upon the hel less man. just as if they
knew he was destine for their prey.

The outlaw peered dewn through the hole in
the ceiling, and laughed in fiendish glee.

“You sought me—you found me, and new
when on feel the teeth of the rats meet in your
flesh, hink of Bristol Bill!”

The trap closed, and utter darkness reigned.

CHAPTER V.
m DEernA'rl: rum.

A MORE fearful position for a human being
than that in which the young man found him-
self, when the trap-door in the ceiling closed
and the place was plunged into utter darkness,
could not be imagined by the most fertile mind.

The darkness was as intense as that which de-
scended upon the land of Egypt in the days of

ore.

As old sailors are a t to say of a sea-fog it
seemed to be so thick t at it could be “cut with

 

 

a knife,” like a tangible object.

But it was not alone the darkness that filled
the mind of the young man with terror.

Human nature, weak in spite of all its
strength, is apt to fall a pre to a thoumnd
fears when exposed to an invi bio danger.

During the brief interval that the cellar had
been dimly illuminated b the light coming
from the o n trapdoor, t e young man, who
was bl with a wonderful sharp pair of
eyes, had not failed to note all the surround-

in

g; had caught si ht of the rodents—the big-
wbiakered, s'ivage- coking ruse-peeping from
their holes, and in his imagination, now that
darkness hid them from his eyes, he thought he
could hear them licking their chops in anticipa-
tion of the feast which had been provided for

 

them.

“ The detectives were right when they warned
me of the peril which I was braving in attempt-
ing to capture this sconndrell” he exclaimed,
musing uloud in an ordinary tone of voice, for
the idea had entered his head, that as long as he
talked the rate would not dare to attack him,
for he thi ught he remembered that he had either
heard or read somewhere the statement that all
such vermin were terribly afraid of the sound
of a human voice.

And so he made up his mind to hold a conver-

“ The detectives were correct when they said
that this man was a very king of rascals. and
vet, smart as he is, I succeeded in hoodwinking

m.

“He had not the slightest suspicion that I

was other than what I represented myself to be
until I threw of! the mas .

“ If it had not been for this cunningly-ccn-
trived scheme, which it was, beyond the wit of
man to guard against, unless previously warn-
ed, I should most certainly have captured him.

“ The Genteel Spotter he suggested will be a

name for me.

“The remark was maliciously made, for be
believed I was doomed to a certain death at the
time he uttered it.

“But am if Is there not a chance of escape
from this terrible trap left open to me!

" Oh! what a glorious revenge is would be to

' get out of this scrape. and then be able to hunt
this sconndrel to his doom!

“ And if I do escape—4f I succeed in evading
grim death, who now seems so near that I can
almost fancy I feel his icy breath blowing upon
my forehead, I swear I will devote the m1; of
my life to hunting dawn these villains who
make a raclice of defying the law.

“1 wl i make the name of the Genteel Spot-

 

ter so well known that the boldest mm] in the
country will tremble at the sound of it.

The genteel Spotter.

 

 

“Oh, there must be some way_ to escape from
this trapl” he exclaimed, abruptly exerting all
his strength to break the steel bands which held
him so securely.

He was amasingly strong, too, despite his

delicafe appearance.

Not one man in ten thousand would have.

given him credit for being onohalf as strong as
be really was.

His muscles were like great bunches of steel,
and he was in perfect condition, there not being
a pound’s weight of superfluous flesh upon him.

5

 

' in esca d into their holes, there was no more i

l tforl e brute todestroy.
“Saved for the present, thank Heaven!"

, ejaculated the prisoner, an immense weight be-

ing removed from his mind.

“ But what, in the name of all that is wonder-
ful, is this thing that has come so timely to my
rescue?

“By the sound of the growls I should take it
to be a dog, and a good-sized one, too, but how
on earth did he get into the cellar, and whet
color is be, for I can’t make him out in the

But not even the strength of a giant, unless ; darkness any more than I could the rats?"

he was a miracle of a man, like Samson of old,
could prevail against the bands that held the
prisoner.

He strained and tugged until the perspiration
started from every pore.

The attempt was fruitless, and at last ex-
hausted by the superhuman eflorts he had put
forth he desisted.

For a few moments utter silence reigned, and
then to the quick ears of the captive came
the stter of a score or two of little feet upon
the our.

The rats, emboldened by the silence, were ad-
vancing upon their prey.

Exhausted by the terrible struggle which be
had made to break the bonds which held him
prisoner, the young man remained quiet for a
few moments.

The rodents, growing bolder and bolder,
swarmed around him, and some, mcre savage
than their fellows, leaped upon the sides of the
chair, or crawled up his legs.

Then the desperate man shouted at the trp of
his lungs, and the rats, scared by the sound of
the human voice made haste to retreat.

“Oh, merciful Heavenl can there be a more

horrid torture than this devised by the mind '

of either man or fiend?” the prisoner cried, in
a nv.
“I have frightened them away for the time
being, but soon that device will fail to exert any
power over them.

“ It will not take these miserable vermin long
to learn that I am utterly helpless—that I can
cry out and that is all.

‘Then they will swarm over me by the hun-
dreds. and with their sharp teeth tear my living
flesh."

And a shudder cf horror convulsed his frame
as be reflected upon the terrible doom which
seemed so certain.

What possible way was there to escape the
fate to which the merciless Bristol Bill had
doomed himl

The sound of his voice had only scared the
rats away from his immediate vicmity. They
had not retreated far, for the prisoner’s hear-
ing, now rendered doubly acute by the terrible

sitiou in which he was laced, could detect

he patter of the almost no less feet upon the

damp earth which formed the floor of the cel-
lar, and so great had the strain upon his nerv-
ous system become that be was sure he could
distinguish a hundred pair of little gleaming
e es, glaring at him in feverish impatience in
t e darkness.

“ I shall 80011 go mad l” the prisoner exclaimed,
his voice sounding hoarse and unnatural even in

own cars.

“I shall not know how horrible my death
really is, for I shall be a raving lunatic ong be-
fore the rats with tLeir sharp teeth tear my life
away,” he continued. “ Oh, I would freely give
ten years of my life to esca from this trap, so
thstIoould hunt down Br tcl Bill, and bring
him to the scaflold he so richly deserves.”

His mouth began to feel dry and parched and
it was with dimculty he s ke. '

In the last half-hour t e exertion and sus-
pense of an ordinary lifetime seemed com.

“It is only a Question of minutes now!” he
cried. “Only a question of minutes before
these disgusting vermin will be feasting on my
flesh. tearing it away, piecemeal!

“ Oh! for one more chance to measure strength
with this desperate scoundrel—one more chance
for honesty to grapple with crimel"

Again he paused exhausted, and be under-
stood that he would not be able to talk much
longer.

Already his tongue seemed to be too big for
his mauth. and although he felt sure it was
more imagination than anything else, yet he
was not able to get rid of the idea.

Then. all of a sudden, there came a startling
interruption to the current of his thoughts.

Some large animal seemed to have bounded
into the cellar.

The rats scam red away with shrill screams
of terror, and row the sound of the cries, the

risoner judged that the unknown beast had
Kurt some of the rodents. ~

Amid the cries of the rats, whose “eeance”
was thus rudely interrupted, came the sound of
low, savage growls. and the young man thought
he could hear the teeth of the intruder crunch

ether as they met in the carcass of some un-
luc y rat, not swift enough of foot to escape
from the unknown too.

This strange struggle in the dark only lasted
for a few minutes, and then all the rats, who
bud not fallen by the teeth of the intruder, hav-

 

But now the prisoner, his attention acutely
alive to all the surroundings, fancied that he
could detect a current of 0001 air—a sort of a
wind—blowing through the cellar, which he had
not noticed before.

“There must be an open door in the rear of
the cellar. for I am sure the wind comes from
that direction,” he mused.

‘9}And through the door the dog must have
found his way; that is, if it is a dog, and it cer-
tainl sounded like one.

“ he brute must have pushed the door n

having smelt the rats, but I u cnder that B tol i
Bill should be careless enough to allow the door 3

to be unlocked.

“But then, what diflerence did it makel I
am helpless as a new-born babe in the steel em- ’
braces of this chair, and could not have es- ;
caped if there had been forty open doors in the :
place."

At this point a chill of horror ran rapidly
through the prisoner's veins.

The mysterious brute who had dispersed the .
rats so quickly, after snifiing about the legs of 5
the prisoner, had abruptly stood upon his hind
legs, placed his forepaws u )on the young man‘s
knees, and then put his col nose against one of
his manacled hands.

CHAPTER VI.
run Doc’s owns.

FROM the manner in which the brute acted
the prisoner became convinced that it was a
dog. and from the quick dispatch which he had
made of the rats it was probable he was an
animal used to killing vermin, and his natural
instincts had brought him into the cellar.

“Good dog, good dog!" exclaimed Yorke, in
the caressing tones usually used when a human
wants to impress upon a canine that his inten-
tions are perfectly friendly.

He was sorely afraid, now that the brute had
put the rats to flight, that he might take it into
his head to depart, and if he did, the rate would
be certain to return. and then his position would
be as bad as before.

He was like a doomed man who had only been
granted a respite, not a rdon.

“Is there any i le way by means of
this do by which can convey to the detec-
tives w thout, a knowled of in position?" the
prisoner cried, racking is bra n to solve the
diflicult problem.

But as he was bound hand and foot, not able
even to move his head more than an inch or
two from side to side, so closely did the steel
band compass his neck, to get at the dog in any
willy was utterly impossible.

he' brute, after snvmng at the prisoner’s
hand for a moment or two, got down and began
to explore the room.

Yorke groaned aloud in agony.

“ Oh, merciful Heaven !" re t1claimed. “Am
I indeed doomed to die here in this miserable
way? Am I to be only mocked with the hope
of esca 7"

Her ly had the words left his lips when
some one at a distance chirrupod asif calling the

!

 

0!.

The heart of the prisoner gave a great bound.

The brute had an owner, and the dog was be.
ing sought.

The call was given in a falsetto voice, so it
was evident that the person who was after the
animal was either a boy a girl, or a woman.

From any one of the three he might expect to
receive aid, while if the caller had been a man
he was more likely to prove a foe than a friend.

The chirrup was re ated, this time much
nearer than before, an it was evident that the
person who gave utterance to the sound was ap-
proachin the cellar.

“I bel eve that Heaven has listened to my
supplicaticns and deliverance approaches,” the
pr soner murmured, his spirits so elated at the

respect that all the agony through which be
had passed was forgotten.

Then to his ears came the sound of light fool-
steps. proceeding cautiously, as though the r-
son from whom the noise roceeded was feeligg
the we in the dark, and orke fancied too that
be con (i distinguish tte rustle of a woman’s

dreis.

“ If it is either a girl or a woman I shall be
rescued from this terrible plight beyond the
shstw of adoubt,” he muttered.

The footete came near and nearer. the
rustle of the res, evidently rubbing against
the walls of some narrOw ssage, more and
more distinct, until at last and Yorke was
sure that the new mmer had entered the cellar,
for she paused as if endeavoring to pierce the

“ Well, I declare, if I don’t believe this is ar.~
. other cellar!” cried the newcomer, evidently
l halting on the threshold, in tones which clearly
betrayed she was a young girl, but little more
than a child.

“ If this don’t beat all that I ever heard tell
of in my hero days!" continued the s r.
“And the ideaof that beast dog sme ng his
way into this place!

, “I suppose it’s full of rats, and he’s a ratter
: from ratierville, and don’t you forget it!”

~ A child in years, but a woman in knowledge,
. evidentliy, as most of the poor waits who are
1 reared n the poor quarters of a great city gen-
; erally are.

l The street life of a great city forces forward
E into a premature maturity the children exposed
l to its influence as surely as the hotbed does the

l plant.
“Here on. Nip, Nip, where are ytul Come
here, you lack rascal! '

 

The dog obeyed the injunction, but after
fawning around the girl for a few minutes, left
her and, returnin to the prisoner, commenced
to snuff around his legs.

The intelligent brute seemed to understand
that something was wrong, and be was anxious
to call the young girl’s attention to the helpless
man.

“Where on earth have you gonef” asked the
girl, astonished at the behavior of the dog.

For answer the brute gave a low whine.

The girl, who thorou hly understood the dog,
comprehended at once t ‘at this meantsometbing
was wrong.

" Hey, Nip, you block beauty, what’s the
matter with you! What's broke, anywayf”

Yorke thought he would new venture to speak,
although he was afraid that the girl might be
frightened and take to her heels at the sound of
his voiCP.

“Don’t be frightened. young lady,” Yorke
said. “Your dog has discovered me and he
don’t exactly knOw what to make of it."

There was a moment of silence, and the pris-
oner con ectured that the girl was straining her
eyes en eavoriug to make out where he was;
then she spoke:

“Afraid? not much! that ain‘t the kind of
hair-pin I am!" and from her clear, resolute
tones it was evident she was a decidedly plucky

irl.
g ” lam glad to hear it,” the prisoner responded,
his spirits risin , for it seemed robable that
through the gir ’s aid he would able to es-
cape from the fate to which he had been doomed
by the merciless outlaw whom he had hunted to
h s lair.

There was only one thing that could interfere
with his escape.

He would be obliged to explain to the girl
how it bap ned that he came to be in the cel-
lar, fastene to the chair.

if she was in any way connected with the
scoundrels, who clearly acknowledged. Bristol
Bill for their chief. she would not be apt to
aid in healing the plans of that master-rascal.

But Roland Yorke had got the idea into his
head that the tirl was not in a way con-
nected with the gang ca ined by ristol Bill,
but had found her way nto the cellar by acct~
dent. '

Certainly she did not know of the use which
the outlaws made of the cellar, or else she
would not have been surprised at his preeence
there, as it was evident she was.

“ I am in great distress and a m urgently in
need of aid," the prisoner contirued.

" Where are you, and what’s the matter!"

“I am here, about the center of the cellar,
sitting in a chair to which i am fastened by
steel hands, so that I am unable to move either
hand or foot.”

“ Gracious me!” exclaimed the girl, in amuse-
ment, “ on don’t say, sol” Why, ain't that
queer? nd what does it I!“ uni—how did you
come to be in such a fix!”

“ I have been on aged in a little detective
business and was no uck enough to be caught
in a trap by the man whom was trying to
hunt down.

“He wasasmarter rascal than I imagined,
and when I fancied I had him dead to rights, as
the saying] is, threw cfl my assumed character
and told im that he was m prisoner. by a
cunning mechanical device e contrived to
fasten me with steel hands to the old-fashioned
chair upon which I sat, so that I was as helpless
as an infant.

“The tables were turned in a manner that
was to me extremely disgusting.

“ Then by means of another mechanical de»
vice, the chair and myself were lowered into
this noisome cellar. and I was left in the dark
ness here to he devoured by the rats. '

"Thevermin were already swarming to the
attack when mm d came to the rescue.”

"team!" the gir cried. amigo. “ an
a terror, Nip is, a reg'lar terror, a don’t you
forget it, eitherl ' ‘

“Becan kill moierateinlesstimethan any
dog that ever went on four

‘ But who is the man tbatyouwereafteri"

“ Bristol Bill."

The girl indulged in a low whidle, Intending

 

intense darkness with her gene.

by this means to express great mtonishment.

 

 

“Bristol Bill, eh?”

“Yes, Bristol Bill; do you know hint!" the
prisoner asked.

“ Well, I reckon I do, and a downright bad
egg he is too; but I say. Mister Man, it seems
to me that you were anxious to tackle bi
game when you got after such a man as Bristo
Bill.

“ Are you a reg’lar detective?"

“ No, only an amateur.”

“ That accounts for it, for I guess that there
ain’t any of the reg’lar gang anxious to go for
him without having all the odds on their side.
I’ll bet there ain’t any single one cares to tackle
him!”

“I hope you are not an ally of this scoun-
drelf"

“Not much, for I’m on the square, i am,
every time. My name is Nan, and I sells pa-
pers for a living. I come from the old barracks
next door, visiting a friend who occupies a

round-floor p'll‘lOl' next to the roof, me and my

0g.

“ Nip is my dog, you know; he‘s a bull-ter-
rier and as b ack as black can be, and death on
rate.

“He’s been of! his feed for'a day or two, so I
thou ht I’d take him down in the cellar and let
him ve some fun.

“I t 1. maybe if he killed a few rats he
would feel better, but the first thing I knew he
rawed right through an old door into this cel-

ar, and I followed after."

 

CHAPTER VII.
as usnmcrnn ons'racmt.

“ IT was the hand of Heaven that led the dog
hither!” the prisoner exclaimed. “ For had it
not been for his timel arrival the teeth of the
rate by this time won d undoubtedly have been
tearing into my flesh, and I as powerless to fight
against their attacks as an infant.” I

“ Isn’t it perfectly awful l” the girl exclaimed,
“ and wasn t it lucky that I should take it into
in head to bring the dog down into the cellar?
It s mighty strange, too, for it's the first time I
ever did it.

“ Nobody ever uses the cellar or comes down
into it either, I guess, for the stairs are so worn
out that they’re fit to break your neck.

“ I didn’t bring any light for fear of scaring
the rate away, and there’s an iron grating in
the street that let’s some little light into the
place, and as there’s a good deal of the out
about me I managed to are pretty well in there;
but this hole is so dark that i don’t believe I
could see my hand if I held it up.

“ I s’pose the first thing I had better do would
beto run and get a candle so asto be able to
see what I am doing.”

“ Yes, that would beadvisable, and be care-
ful of course not to mention to any one that
you know I am here,” the prisoner cautioned.

“Oh, don’t be afraid! I know enou h to keep
my mouth shut. I haven’t been runn ng ’round
Cherry street since I was kneehigh to a grasp

hmr for nothing.

. I was to say anything to anybody it‘s
bimodda that I might stumble on some pal of
Br to! Bill, for he’s got a heap of friends round
this neighborhood.

“Bay, pyou’re fastened in with steel bands,

H Ya.”

“Doyou s’poae I’ll have to get a file to cut
theml"
“ No, I think not. They are worked by
machinery. and when you get a light you will
undonle be able to discover the lever which
when moved will spring the bands back again
into the chair. just as they were when I uncan-
tionsl sat down, in it, without the remotest
idea t at I was placing myself in a tra ."

“ It was a r ‘lar cute dodge, but ey say
that Bristol Bi is always up to all sorts of
tricks of that kind.

“ It will not take me long to get a candle for
I‘ve got one up in my room and although it is
at the to of the house, the first floor next to
the roof. 'm as spry as a cat and will be back
in no time.”

“ I do not think that we need to worry our-
selves at all about time,” Roland Yorke re-
marked. “My executioner will not be apt to
trouble himself about me until to-morrow.

“I am securer fastened in the chair; nothin
diort, almost, 0 a miracle could save me. an
asmiraclea are rare nowadays, any escape for
me seems out of the question. ’

“It won‘t do any harm to hurry," the girl

ed. “Some of the gang in ght take it
into their heads to come down and take a leak
at .you. Bill elwavs has a big crowd with him.
8 a a regular w some the thieves, and
there ain’t a bi. one 0 them, too, that
me to do anything when he tells them not to

“If one of his gang tried to be his Own boss
for a while, Bill would ‘ knock him out’ quick-
er'n a wink.

“'Illl lease Nip here to take care of the rats.
for they're such bold things they would be apt
to hgo”flnl' you the moment the dog got out of

i. v. ,v .
«‘Yon‘re a good girl, and if lsucoeed in get-

 

-__ Th9 (591115691 Spotter- 

ting out of this scrape, there isn’t anything in
this world, that lies within my power, that I
wouldn‘t do for 'on.’ .

“ Oh, that's al right?” the girl replied, in her
careless, independent way.

“ I’m a-doing this for fun, you bet! and that’s
the kind of an ash barrel I am! '

“Lie down, Nip like a good dog, and mind
the gentleman until I come back!"

Tue dog immediately obeyed, for the ener-
getic whacks of his tail on the earth as he
crouched upon the floor close to the chair, and
wagged his “narrative” vigorously, could be
distincgly heard.

“ Go by; I will not be long, for I’m a regu-
lar lightning girl, I am!”

An then she hastened away.

A thankful prayer escaped from the lips of
the isouer.

“ shall not perish after all!" he exclaimed.
“ The fight has not ended with the first round,
as Bristol Bill fondly imagines.

“ I shall come up smiling for a second.

“The first trick he has gained, but the second
it may be my good fortune to secure.

“ In derision he applied to me the title of the
Genteel Spotter. 11 do my best in the future
to deserve the name and perhaps the day may
come when Bristol Bill will learn to fear the
man whom he thought he had conquered so
easilg.

“ ere, on the evo of my escape from a hor-
rible death, I swear I will devote all the rest of
my life, be it much or little, to hunting down
and exterminating the rascals who lunder
honest men under the leadership of Bria 1 Bill.

“ One by one I will hunt them into the hands
of Justice, and all of the gang will live to hit-
teer rue the hour when I started in upon their
ti'ai .

For once in his life Bristol Bill had committed
the error of iinderrating a foe, but as he had so
easily succeeded, thanks to the concealed ma-
chinery of the antique chair, in overcoming the
avenger, who had set out to call him to an ac-
count for the wrong done to an innocent girl,
he jumped to the conclusion that he was not a
den erous antagonist.

hen the sound of conversation ceased, one
by one the rats came peeping out of their holes
eager to begin the feast, but when the beheld
their prey gardedb the muscular bui -terrier,
thy slunk ck a n in haste.

at for the r ents was the soft flesh and
warm blood of the entrapped man.

There was a small army of the vermin, but
the richest feast possible wouldn't have tempted
them to brave the teeth of the d .

Meanwhile the prisoner was ful of hope. He
felt sure that no one would be apt to trouble
themselves about him until the morning, for
he was satisfied that Bristol Bill believed there
was no chance of his escaping from the fate to
which he had been doomed by that malignant
rufiian.

He was somewhat curious in regard to the
girl, who had come so opportuner to his res-
cue, and during her absence amused himself
in speculatin in re ard to what she was like.

A though or vo ce seemed youthful, yet it

'was evident she was no child, for she had all

the sober forethought of a woman of mature

years.

Still the children of the streets age rapidly
and it was not impossible that the irl might
be far younger than her lan uage in cated.

The moments passed rap dly away], for the
prisoner was so busy in thou ht that e did not
pay particular attention to he lapse of time,
an etziefore he had expected her the girl re-
turn .

She entered the cellar with a candle in one
hand and half a dosen matches in the other.

“ It's all ri ht, don’t be frightened!” she said,
as she came t rough the door.

Then she lit the candle.

“ I didn’t dare to turn on the ‘ as’ before,”
she explained, “ for fast the lig t might be
seen through the grating and somebody might
come down to see what it meant.”

“ Look for the leveri” the prisoner exclaimed.
“hiti is probably somewhere in the front of the
c a r. ‘

“There’s a brass hook on the side of one of
the front legs,” the girl said, the object catch-
ing her eyes in an instant.

“Does it look as if it could be movedPRo-
lande Yorko asked.

“ Yes, it looks as if it had been pulled down.”

“ Try and ush it up then.”

She obey the injunction and immediately
the steel bands flew back.

The prisoner was freel

A si h of relief came from his lips as he rose
to his set.

For quite a time he had fancied he would
never stand erect again. .

“I owe you my lifrl” he exclaimed to the
girl, titude shining n eve line of his face.

“ h, don't bother about t at!” she replied,
in the most matter-of-fact way. “You ain't
out. of the fryingpan yet; maybe this little
move will onl get you into the fire. You’ve
got to get into e street yet, and you can‘t tell
how many of the gang may be hanging ’round
the door until you try to get out.”

 

 

“ That’s ver true, but as I am well-armed
I don’t fear a ozen of them.”

“ Come on then, let's be gitting!”

The girl led the way.

But hardlv had the girl, the man and the dog
passed through the passage when a startling
discovery was made.

In the other cellar, descending the stairs, Who
Bristol Bill and two other rufflans, both of
whom betrayed in their faces that they couI-l
be lielied upon to do any sort of murderou~
wor .

The surprise was mutual, for Bristol Bill and
his companions were equally as astonished as
the irl and the fugitive.

eapons Were instantly drawn, and Bristol
Bill with a fierce oath cried:

“Hallo, my bird! were you going to spread
your wings and fiy !”

It was a thrilling tableau.

CHAPTER VIII.
as asromsinn mo.

Tm: situation seemed to be a desperate one
indeed for the young detective, for «p sad to
him were three of the greatest rnmans that the
cit had ever known.

Kideed, it is doubtful if more brutal, bull-
dog-like fellows could be found in any part of
the world.

They were all fully as well-armed as Yorke,
and as they Were three to one, the young de-
tective’s chance of escaping from the trap, so
pnggectedly sprung upon him, seemed decided-
y .

The unexpected appearance of Bristol Bill
and his companions in the cellar is easily ex-
plained.

The two men were his intimate ls—“side-
pardners,” as a Western man woul say.

Happening to drop into the saloon just as
Bill was about to depart, he could not refrain
from relating to them how nicely he had tricked
the detective, who had had the impudenoe to
attempt to capture him right in his stron hold.
for Bristol Bill was the real owner of t e sa-
loon, although it was carried on in another
man‘s name.

Red Barry and Sheeny Lew were the names
by which the two rumans were known.

Red Barr was a tall, muscular fellow with
red hair an a fiery red mustache. '

Bheeny Lew, on the contrary, was a rather
undersized man, with a foxy face and a sham-
bling way.

As his name indicated, he came of the race
of Israel, but was a most unworthy representa-
tive indeed of the Hebrew line.

After they had listened to Bristol Bill’s ac-
count of the neat manner in which he had
turned the tables upon the as er tracker,
Siieeny Lew, who had the longest ead of any
of the "cross" men about town, suggested that
it would he a good idea to search the detective,
as it was possible he might have some im-
portant papers about him which would put
them in posseseion of the police plans, as it
looked probable that a regular raid was intend—
ed by the authorities.

Bristol Bill thought the idea was a good one,
and Red Barry agreed with him—so the three
descended to the cellar, going by the way of the
stairs in the adjoining house.

There was no other way of getting into the
underground apartmmt from the house to
which it belonged but through the trap-door in
the floor—the stairs which once led to the lower
region having been urposely remowd so as to

revent any inquisit ve policeman from exam-

ining the Cellar.
_ As the girl had stated, no one in the adjoin-
ing house ever used the cellar, and the door
which connected the two undergmund a rt-
ments was fastened by what
strong padlock and bug, but t e woodwork in
which the staples were riven had rotted, and
the dog in forcing his way into the cellar had
easily displaced them.

Three such desperate men as now barred the
prisoner’s way to liberty seemed an obstacle
impossible for the young detective to over-

come.

In calculatin the chances, the girl and the
dog would hard _v be taken into account by any
one as being important factors in the problem.

But as in this life it is the unex cted that
always he no, so in this instance t e girl and
dog were estined to play a more important
part in the scene than any of the rest of the
actors.

Hardly had the words escaped from the lips
of Bristol Bill—the threat that boded death to
Roland Yorke—than, with a single pufl of her
breath, the girl blew out the candle, plunging
the cellar into utter darkness.

This was a movement for which no one of the
parties was repared and before any oneconld
{Inuit}? a mot on the s arp command came from

er :

“8 c ‘em, Nip, go for ’eml"

With a series of tiger-like growls the bull-
terrier obeyed.

Th3, three were on the stairs, standing clhee

er.
he dog rushed between the legs of Bristol
Bill who was in the adVance, nipping him ht

 

peared to a,

 

 

The‘GrenteelfiSpotter.

 

the calf as he passed, made his teeth meet in
the leg of Sheeny Law who was next to Bris-
tol Bill, causing that \‘l orthy to bowl with pain,
and then—just as if he had calculated how best
to disorganize the attacking force and clear the

stairWay—seiZeal Red Barry in the on” of his r

i

right log—the man stood with the right foot on ‘

one stair and his other on the stair above—and
held on for dear life.

The result of this maneuver w: s that the last
mentioned ruman, shrieking with pain and
giving utterance to the most hOrrible profanity,
lost his balance and fell headlong down the
stairway. upsetting his companions who were
beneath him.

The three came to the ground at the foot of l

the stairs all in a heap, swaaring the most fear-
ful oaths that human ears had eVer heard.

The terrier relinquished his hold upon Red
Barry when the three men fell and really
seemed toamuse himself by seeing how many
bites he could take of the prostrate men as
they rolled over and over each other, striking

out with their revolvers, endeavoring to hit the .
dog. ‘ iniaway at the door there.
he terrier was perfectly impartial, and dis- [
evenly, nipping -

tributed his “favors” rett
first one man and then t 0 0t er.

And as the place was plun ed in utter dark-
ne the rumans in endeavo ng to disable the
douhy striking at him with their pistols—they]
di not dare to fire, for fear of shooting eac
other—only succeeding in hitting and damaging
themselves, aresult which enraged them to a
fearful extent, and the imprecations that they
uttered were enough to make the blood of any
decent person run cold.

The moment the rl extinguished the light
she asped Roland orke by the hand.

“ me!" she whispered, hurriedly, in his ear,
“ Nip understands every word I say to him, and
while he is making it lively for these brutcs we
can get out!"

The detective resigned himself into the girl’s
hands; better acquainted with the cellar than
he, she seemed to have the catlike faculty of
seeing in the dark.

And while the rufi‘lans were swearing and
tumbling over each other on the floor, vainly
trying to escape from the sharp teeth of the
dog, who was worrying them just as he would
have worried a lot of rats, Nan conducted
Roland Yorke to the stairway.

It was an easy task to evade the scoundrels,
for their cries of rage plainly revealed their
whereabouts.

In their attempt to get away from the savage
attacks of the dog they had rolled away from
the foot of the stairs. so the fugitives were able
to ascend without diflcult . ,

There was a door at a head of the stairs
and on the outside of this door was a stout bolt.
It was rust , and evidently had not heed used
for years, at the girl with her wiry hands
succeeded in getting it into working condi-

tion.

“I’ll call the dog up, then bolt the door, and
that will give us p enty of time to get out of the
wag,” she explained.

nd this movement she executed immedi-
ately.

The moment the terrier heard the call he
came bounding up the stairs.

The girl shut the door and bolted it.

“ Now then. I think I have got the dead wood
upon them!” she cried in triumph.

“And I shall be able to capture Bristol Bill
after all!" Roland Yorke exclaimed, in high
glee. “There’s a couple of detective officers
outside waiting for me‘ I’ll call them in and
then I’ll nab Mr. Bristol hum

He hurried through the dark eat -for in
this miserable tenement-house. inhah ted only
by the poorest of the r, lights were alto-
gather too expensive a t ing to be amirded in
the public entries—but when he reached the
front door, which stood open, the unwelcome
discOVery was made that the detectives were

:11 suing.
They had waited according to orders, and not

havin received the romised signal had de-
par thinking the p had in some way mis-
car .

But a more unwelcome discovery even than.
this Yorke made.

The noise of the conflict in the cellar between
the men and the dog had attracted quite a crowd
around the grating a emwd composed not only
of women and ch ldren. but of roughvlocklng,
desperate ap ring men, and, as the detective
glanced at t em, the thought came to him that
these men were the ver fellows like] to be the
pale of such a scoundre as Bristol Bil .

And even while he stoodat the door, hid by
the darkness 0! the entry from the crowd with-
out, medltating what would be the best course
for him to pursue. Bristol Bill made another
move in this desperate game.

As soon as the d ceased his attack the ruf-
fiansganng to their set. and while Sheeny Lew
an Barry groped their way to the stairs,
Bristol Bill ran to the rating.

He knew the neigh rhood well enough to
surmise that the noise of the fight in the cellar
would be quite enourh to attract a crowd to the
grating, anxious to find out what it all meant.

 

And in the crowd he was sure some of his pals
would he found.

“ There’s a cursed spy in the house!" he yelled.
“ Kill him the moment he comes through the
door!”

A how] of rage arose from the throats of the
crowd at this announcement, and Roland Yorke
immediately realized that he could expect but
little mercy at the hands of the ruflians.

Understanding this he was prompt to act.

He shut the door in an instant.

Luckily for him there was an old, rusty bolt
upon it, and he hastily shoved it into its socket.

The moment the door closed the cr0wd with-
out made a rush for it, for ther guessed that the
detective had closed the ports .

CHRTER IX.
A smear MISTAKE.

'Wrm angry yells and blood-curdling oaths
the ruflians threw themselves against the door,
endeavoring to force it open, and at the same
time the men on the cellar stairway were pound-

nd as both of these barriers were old, and.
therefore, somewhat frail, it was certain that
very soon one or both would yield to the per-
sistent attack.

Then the fugitive would be caught between
two fires.

He must act promptly.

The girl’s keen wits appreciated the difilculty
of the situation, and she was quick to suggest a
method of escape. '

“ How is the back yard—is the fence high——
can l climb it?” Yorke inquired, hurriedly.

"Yes, but it would only be jum ing out of
the fryiugpan into the fire,"i'or al the neigh-
borhood is alarmed now, and you would be cer—
tain to be discovered before you could get
awa ," she replied.

“ hat is to be done, then!"

“Come up to the garret; no one will ever
dream of looking for ou there. and if by any
chance it should be d scovered that you are in
the house, you can easilymget out on the roof,
and, although it would a rough old climb
yet you con d manage to get along to some of
the neighboring houses.” ,

“I shall have to thank you for my life a
second time!" the detective exclaimed, as he
groped his way hurriedl through the dark en-
t? toward the stairs, fo lowing in the footsteps
o the girl.

“Oh, that‘s all right, don’t let that trouble you.
You’ll get a chance to get square with me one
of these days!” the girl replied, carelessly, just
as if risking her own life to save that of an en-
tire stranger was a common, everyday occur-
rence.

“Tread lightly!” she cautioned, as she com-
menced the ascent of the stairs.

“ It won't do to let those cross coves know of
this little dodge of ours, or else all the fat will
be in the fire.’

" Trust me to be as cautious as a cat.”

In truth, it would have required a remarka-
bl y acute pair of cars to have detected that any
one was ascending the stairs, so careful were
the two in their movements.

They had not started a moment too soon
either, for as they got to the head of the stairs
and turned in the entry-the dog trotting along
demand at their heels, apparently fully un-
derstan ing the necessity for caution as well as
the humans—with a crash the rufians on the
cellar stairway forced Open the door.

Hearing the row that the crowd outside were
making at the front door, they fell into the
natural error of thinkin the fugitives were
holding it against the outs ders.

So they hurried forward to take them in the
rear. -

Then followed one of those strange mistakes
that sometimes occur.

Just as the three were within a couple of
yards of the front door, it abruptly gave way
under the pressure from without, and the bowl—
ing mob came pouring into the entry, swearing
at the top of their lungs.

The entrance was effected so suddenly that
the mob was upon Bristol Bill and his pals
almost before they realized what had occurred.

And the moment the two parties came to-
gether, the front-door crowd fell into the natur-
al mistake of taking then in the entry for the
prev they sought, and so, despite the endeavors
of Bristol Bill and his companions to make
the outsiders understand that they were “ true
blthe," the crowd fell upoa them tooth and
na .

For some three minutes there was about as
pretty a fight in the darkness of the entry as
the most bloodthirsty mortal could desire.

Finding that the outside gang was determined
to maul them, the three pals IhOWed tight in a
woly that astonished the assailants.

he entry was one of the Wide, old-fashioned
ones, so the three had room enough “ to st in
their work," while the attackin crow , all
huddled to ther in a heap, labors under a de-
cided dlsa vantage.

Bristol Bill. Red Barry and Sheeny Lew were
all distinguished members of the “shoulder-
hltters’ brigade,” regular sluggers, every one,

7

and they felled the leaders of the attack with
sledge-hammenlike blows.

And as the foremost men went down. those
behind, pushed On by the impatient crou'd, half
of whom were attracted merely by curiosity to
see what was going on, trampled remorselessly
upon the fallen bruiSers.

These, naturally, protested against such treat-
ment, and attacked the aggressors.

So, in no time at all, there was the biggest
kind of a free light inaugurated.

Fresh men kept getting into it, forced onward
by the curious crowd in the rear.

And there, in the darkness, these wolf-like
men clawed and struck, bit and howled, until
one would surely think that Pandemonium was
let loose on earth.

Thanks to this accident. Bristol Bill and his
pals were enabled to make a retreat.

They understood now that the retreat of the
fugitives had been cut off at the front door by
the crowd without, and they had not succeeded
in getting into the street. -

“Where in blazes have they egone?” owled
Bert-id Barry, as the three emerg into t 0 back
ya .

The speaker had received a violent blow on
the nose in the fray and felt extremely ugly
about it.

Neither one of the three had got 03 scobfree.

Some one had threwn a club and cracked
Sheeny Lew on the head, causing him for a
moment to witness a most brilliant display of
stars.

Bristol Bill had the narrowest escape of the
three.

One of the foremost men in the crowd had
been armed with a knife, and he had slashed
the master—radian on the arm, making quite a
painful wound, although not at all dangerous.

Thanks tothe lights in the windows of the
houses in the neighborhood and to the moon,
now just Coming up full and strong. the three
were enabled to see each other and ascertain
what damage they had suffered.

Their first thought of course was of the fugi-
tives, but as they were not able to secure any
trace of them they came to the conclusion. they
had made their escu by scaling the fence that.
surrounded the yard?9

Although when they inquired of the people who
crowded all the windows in the neighborhood
attracted by the sound of the disturbance, all
declared that they had not noticed any one
passing through the yard.

“ The mav have done it, all the same
though, said Bristol Bill.

“ If they got out before the row commenct d. ~
and it's proable they did, no one would have
been apt to have noticed them passing through
the yards.”

“ Rome of these people say they have been
sitting at their windows looking down into the
yards for the last hour, though, ’ Sheeny Lew
remarked. '

He had got the idea into his head that the
peogle were right and the fugitives had not.
ma e their escape in that way.

“ Good many folks in this world say a great
deal more than their prayers,” Red rry sug-
gested.

The big ruflan had the reputation of being a
doubting Thomas. '

“ If he didn’t get out by way of the ard he
is in the house somewhere," Bristol ill oi"
served, with a thoughtful glance up at th-
building. “The detective is our mutton.”

“ And yet I don’t understand how he can be
in the house either,” Sheen Lew remarked.

“With all this row guing on down-stairs“-
would be likely to scare the people so that they
wouldn’t open their doors to admit a stranger,
particularly one with a bowling crowd after
him. anxious for his blood.”

“You’re right, there,” Bristol Bill observrd.
“They’d beamighty sight more apt to shut
their doors, and if he attempted to get in, to
lay him out with the fires weapon that came
hand .”

“ e couldn‘t have got out the front door:
your little funny business at the grating put a
stop to that," Bheeny Lew remarked.

_‘ These people here say he didn’t get out this
way. and though the man might have climbed
the fence without being noticed, 'et it ain‘t very
probabl it seems to me, that al three of their.
man. gir and dog-”

“ Curse the brute! he hit me in a donen places!"
interruped Red Barry, who had had the ill-luck
to get the greater part of the bites that the hullv
terrier had given with such liberality.

“-—Couldn’t have climbed the fences without
somebody seeing them.” continued Sheeny Lew,
finishing the argument he had he an.

“ It doesn’t seem probable," as d Bristol Bill.
“ But, i say. who is the girl, and where did she
came from!” ‘

" nd the dogl” cried Red Barry. “I’ll kill
that brute if i have to hunt ten years for himi'i

“ I don’t know her, although’it strikes me I
have seen her in the neighborhood,” Sheeny Lew

 

"as was constantly in the vicinity, and so was

 

 well acquainted with the deninens'of the
y.
“She probably lives in the housa,and the

8

chances are big that if we hunt her up we’ll be ’ “No. I don’t think she did," Bristol Bill an- I
able to find the man." ‘ swered. " Sue was asleep at the time just as
“We can get at the dog, anyhow!" cried Red she was when we came up, and as they took
Barry. care not to make any noise they aneceeded in I
, getting out on the roof without alarming her.

3 “And once on the roof it was an eas mat— i

‘ ter for them to get into one of the neigh ring l

The Genteel Spotter.

night at nine," remarked ilie leader of the

gang.
The others nodded, and so they parted.

 

 

 

CHAPTER XI.
AN OLD RIDING-PLACE.
Arm now that we have rcla'ed how com-

CHAPTER X.
'riiii: i'URb’UI‘I'.

-‘

BY the time that the three arrived at this con—
ciusion the fight in the hallway had ended, and
the crowd adjourned to the street.

Owing totue peculiar turn that aflairs had f

taken, the original cause of the disturbance was

supposed to have made his escape, for the men .
who had fallen by the iron-like knuckles of the l
three pals naturally thought that it was the po- ;
lice spy to whom they Were indebted for the '
, Lew observed.

sturdy whacks.
All now being quiet. though a crowd which

had been attracted by the dietill‘bflllt'fl still stood '

in front of the house and discussed the affair, all
sorts of ridiculous rumors flying about, Bristol

Bill and his companions proceeded to Search for ,

the fugitive detectiVe.

"It will not take us long, boys, to find out v

whether he is in the house or not." Bristol Bill
remarked as he led the way up the stairs.

It was a small building, one of the old-fash-
ioned two-suiry~and-attic housi's, such as the old
New York biirghersi were in the habit of erect-
ing a hundred years ago.

The apartments on the first fiOor were vacant;
there were three families on the second, one to
every room about, and two in the garret.

All the men were out, nobody but women
and children at home. and not a single soul
had seen anything of the fugitives, so they all
declared.

The three men wvnt up to the garret, and the
only person they could find there was an aged
lrishwoman, decidedly the worse for liquor.

She was indignant at the intrusion and rated
the “murthering blaggards" so severely that
even these hardened I'Dfli‘llis were glad to re-
treat, and so get out of the reach of her tongue.

They did not neglect to examine the garret
thoroughly though, but this occupied but little
time, as there was only a landing, upon which

the moon looked down through a skylight iii the i

met, and two rooms, one in front and the other
in the rear.

Both were open, almost bare of furniture.
and could be eXamined at a glance.

' used to work the oracle."

 

1 houses, through a window, and by this time
' they are in all probability at a good safe dis- 5
; for the fugitives we must return to them and
“ The game is up then,” remarked Red Barry, ‘1
‘ angrily, terribly disappointed at not being able 1
I Bill and his associates.

tance.”

to get at the fugitives.

“ Yes. I should say so, for the present any- ‘

way," Bristol Bill replied.

“ There isn’t the least doubt about it," Sheeny a
‘ old woman who dwelt in the garret.

“You might as well look for
a needle in a iiindle of buy as attempt to find
that fellow after he once. got out into the
street."

“That‘s so; he has succteded in scoring a
point upon me after all,” Bristol Bill remarked.

By this time they had gained the lewer entry
and stood looking out into the street.

“ He is in possession of our little hanky-panky
chair arrangement by means of which we have

lucked so many pigeons, and we can't work

hat racket any more.

“We shall have to get up a new dodge and
destro all traces of the old before the police
come own upon us.

“Sheeny, you had better attend to that.
Tell the boys to clean the whole thing out so as
not to leave a trace of the way in which we

“ All right. It will not take long to remove
everything, and I’ve got the stairs all ready to
put back under the trap—door, so that it will
appear as if the trap was merely cut to give
access to the cellar.”

The speaker was the man who had arranged

 

the dialudical contrivnnce.

Sheeny Lew was noted among the dangerous
classes, and in police circles, as being one of the '
most skillful mechanics in the country.

He possessed talents in that line which, ifj
they had been employed in a proper direction, _
would certainly have brought him a fortune.

But, so strange is the composition of the thing i
that we call man, he preferred to pursue thel
uncertain and dangerous life of a “crook.” l

One week so flush with money—the product of l

pletely the pursuers were he fled in their search

describe how it was that they succeeded in so
completely bnfiiing the eager search of Bristci

As the irl explained to the detective while
ascending be stairs she did not live in the house
but only came there once in a while to see an

“ You see sir,” she said, “ everything ain’t on
the square ’bont me. I’m an orphan without
any father or mother—that is, I suppose I am,
but there‘s no ti-llii g, for somebody pays eight
dollars a month for my keeping.

“ it is paid to the old woman up-steirs, who
brou ht me up.”

“ hat a strange history l"

“ Ain’t it! But I’ll +pin the whole of the yarn
for you some time when ther’s an opportunity
for you to listen to it, but we’re a little too
pressed for time nOW.”

“ Do you think they will pursue us up here!”

“Maybe! there’s no telling ’bout it, you know.
I guess they’ll try the yard first, thinking we
have gone over the back fence, but when they
don’t find any trace of us there they’ll be apt to
think we are in the house somewhere, and go
for us.”

“But we can escape hymeans ofihe roof,”
suggested Roland Yorke.

t was strange how in this dangerous emer-
gency the detective, who was a man of extra
shrewdiiess, consulted the girl, who was but lit-
tle more than a child. just as if she was an old,
experienced man of the world.

“We would be mighty apt to be seen by

i somebody, and then Bristol Bill and his gang

would soon be at our heels."

Just at this point the two doors below were
broken in and the conflict ensued, the particu-
lars of which we have already relaied.

“Quick, q'uick! they are after us already i”
cried the gii' , while the dog gave utterance to a
low, ominous growl, as much as to intimate that

The old woman had been half asleep in a a successful expedition—that be hardly knew  he was illl ready for another scrimmage.
dilapidated rocking-chair when the intruders , what to do with it, and the next, a. fugitive
ascended to the level of the garret, and when l from justice, with the bloodlioiinds of the law 
she was first aware of their presence, she had i right at his heels, and dependent for protection

:lvidt‘llti mistaken them for the “lady” who i
occupi the rear garrei, for she had called ,
out: v

"is it there a are. Mrs. Casey! Shure,

you‘re back ear y, ma‘am, and lell a wan of
your fri’nds has been for to see yer. since yez's
been gone.

Bun when she discoVered it was not “Mrs.
Casey,” but three rough~looking men, she had
fallen into a violent rage and abused them in
the most insolent manner when they inquired
concerning the fugitives.

Red Barry, whose temper was none of the
best at any time, but who appeared to be trans-
formed into a. very fiend by the pain of the dog-
bites which had been so freely bestowed upon
him, had drawn his knife and threatened to cut
the old woman’s throat if she did not keep

uiet.
q But this threat instead of causing her tostop.
only added new fury to her rage.

There was a heav iron po er in the mom,

an extra-sised one, agout two feet long, and this
the old woman caught up stones, and then. in
terse but extremely vigorous language, invited
the rough to “ come on.”
“ I’m an O‘Neill do yez mind that, ye dirthy
sent! and I’m able for a dozen of the likes of
yes!" and then the stringof names she hurled at
histh would have amazed the oldest fisbwo-
man in existence.

But though Red Barry was just in the humor
to‘vent his rage upon somebody, yet he did not
quite see his way clear to meet the woman in
sin e fight.

he was a muscular, raw-boned virago, and
armed as she was with a heavy poker, she
would have been a tough antagonist for almost

sag man.
ristol Bill and his pals retired with an ill-
grace; they were men who Were not accus-
tOmed to take abuse with impunity from any
one, and it was rticularly galling to them to
be thus defied tw co in a single night.

First to be vanquished b a 0g and then
forced to retreat by an old rish woman, some-
what the worse for liquor! It was tough!

Bristol Bill, though, believed he had solved
the mystery of the detective's disappearance.

“Be made his way right up to the gamt,
then went through the open window in that
back room to the roof,” he said, as the three
descended the stairs. -

. “ And do you think the girl and the dog took
the same road?” Sheeny Lew asked.

“No doubt of it; it isn’t a dimcult task;
and it was the only way of escape left open to
them.”

“ Bach s’posc the old woman knew all about
it!” Barry questioned.

 

and sup ort upon criminals more lucky than
himself or the time being.

“Well, you look after that; we can set the
machinery up somewhere else and work the
trick again without any trouble.” Bristol Bill
remarked. “ And I suppose it ii ill be only pru-
dent for me to keep shady fora while, until I
can get a chance to locate this new detective.
He’s a regular dandy of a fellow, boys, and
after I had got him dead to rights. Isugaestul .
to him that if he was going to follow the}
detective line and go in to make himself a first-
class lice-sp , it would be a good idea for him
to cal himsef the Genteel S tter, the City
Thorou hbred, or something 0 that sort. Of
course thought I had him settled for this
world, but I tell you what it is, pals, there’s
many a slip between the cup and the lip.”

“What put the fellow on our track, any-
way!" asked Sheehy Lew—w 0, being natura-
ly long-headed, suspected there was an impor—
tant reason for the action of Bristol Bill in so
persistently hunting to death the sleuth-hound
of the law.

“ 0h, a womnn~scrape, some years ago, that’s
all,” the other answered, carelessly.

“ The fellow is doing a little on his own book,
eh?" said Red Barry.

“Yes, he has joined the detective force
expressly to get onto with me, and, to ive
the devil his due must say the fellow ma 0 a
good beginning, or if it had not been for my
getting him into the chair, thinking him to be a
pigeon worth the plucking, he most assuredly
would have snapped the bracelets on my wrists
and carried me 03 to head-quarters in tri--
umph.”

“It was a narrow squeeze for you, and a still
narrower one for him, ’ Sheeny Lew remarked.

“Yes. and from now out it will be likely to
be a desperate struggle between us. i must
down him, or else he will be likely to dawn me.
Biy‘g’ie way, do either of you say you know the

r

“Or the do i” wled Red Bar ssva ly.
“I’ll never bgmtigsrged until I haveridved igethe
head of the infernal cur. S'pose the brute
should go mad, where would we all be?"

“I think we would have a pretty lively time
of it; but the rgirl’s face seemed familiar to me,
althoash I ha ly got a good look at her,” Bris-
tol Bill said, refiectively.

“ Her face seemed familiar, but I can‘t place
her, and I‘m not sure I would be able to recog-
nise her if I met her again,” Sheeny Lew ob-

served.
“ I could pick the dog, though, out of a thou~

 

sand!” Red Barry declared.
“ Well. let's make ourselves scarce. “ I’ll see
both of you at our uptown house tomorrow

The old woman to whom the girl had referred
had been sitting in a low rocking-choir by a lit-
tle table, upon which burnt the commonest kird
of a tal10w candle, when the row broke out in
the lower entry.

She had been sewing, but help overcome by
slumber allowed hr-r work to fal into her lap,
and was enjoying a splendid nap when the up-
ronr below roused hsr to a consciousness that
something was a rona.

.“ Mother of Moses! phat’s that?" she crird,
optiiing her eyes ard glaring around her with
orbs distended by amazement.

“ It’s all right, aunt , don’t be alarmed?" the
girl exclaimed, hasti y. “ It is only a little
trouble that this gentleman has tumbled into
with Bristol Bill and his gsngl"

“The mnrthering blaggardsl” cried the old
woman, who thoroughly hated the rufiians who,
by their evil deeds, had made the neighborhood
a terror to all decent men.

“ Can you hide us somewhere, aunty, in case
they should take it into their heads to come up
here?" asked the girl.

“ Share, and I can do that same!” answered
the old woman, promptly.

" And I give on my word that you will not
lose anything y aiding nsl” said Yorke, ini-
pulsivelv.

“Sorta a thing do I want, bedsdl" replied
the old woman, oftily. “Share, I’d do an ~
thing in me poirer to worry that thafe aft 0
woruld, Bris'ol Bill.”

During ihis brief conversation the irl had
gone to the read of the stairs. and was stenin
with all her ears to the iramendonsrecket wh
the contending parties in their free fight in the
darkness of the entry below were making.

" I don‘t understand it!" she exclaimed.
“They seem to be having a regular ht down-

: stairs. and there isn’t any signs that t ey think

of following us up here.

The detective at once jumped to the right
conclusion.

"It would be a oke if the rty from the
outside had run age nst Bristol ill and his men
in the dark and mistaken them for nsl” be ex-
claimed.

“I’ll bet a hat that that is; just what the
have done, for they seem to be going at one
other tooth and nail, hammer and tongs,”re-
plied the girl.

“ It wil not take them long to find out the
mistake, though. and then we may expect them
to attempt to follow us up with ten times more
vigor than before," said Roland Yorke, in a
tone of conviction.

“ Oh. there isn’t the least doubt about that,"
the girl assented.

“ Don‘t ye be afther minding the his" srds!”
cried the old woman. who had evident y been
indulgin in more liquid stimulants than was
good for r health. "To the divil I’d pitch the

 

The Genteel Spotter.

 

h..-— ,.._'—.—. m..- ~..._.__.s ——

whole pack, bad ’cess to ’em fora gang of dirthy
scrubsl”

“That’s all right, aunty. but the will mur-
der us all the same, if they succee in getting
hold of our precious persons, and I don’t see
where on earth you are going to hide us in this
barracks! Why, there doesn t seem to be room
here to stow awa a good-sized rat, let alone
such health -looking humans as we are,” the
girl obssrv , looking around her with a critical
a r.
The truth of the remark could not be dis~
puted. In the open spst‘e between the two gar-
rets there wasn’t anything but the bare walls,
the floor and the roof, while all the furniture
the garreta could beast was a little cot-bed, a
table and a rocking-chair in the old woman's
apartment, which Was the front garret, while
the back room could only hold a straw mat-
tress, placed right upon the floor, and a solitary
chair, decideil the worse for wear.

As the girl ad said, an ordinary rat would
law had trouble in concealin himself so as to
avoid detection anywhere in t e garret.

Possibly such a small animal might have got
under the straw in ltll‘OSS and so avoided detec
tion until the mattress was moved, but all of
the three fugitives were entirely too big to hope
for success in trying that game.

“ Aha, wait till awhile ago!” cried the dame,
shaking her head, while a look of extreme cun-
nin appeared upon her features.

“ hure I'll be afther putting yes in a place
that all th blaggards in the woruld Would
never find fezl"

“ Well, I give it up!" the girl exclaimed, in
amazement. “ You’re too much for me, aunty,
I don’t see any place where you can hide us three
big critters.”

‘01:! I‘ve a beautiful place, me darlint!”
chuckled the old woman.

"I'd like to know where it is,” observed the
girl, doubtfuliy.

And the detective too was equally dubious.

He had carefully surveyed the scantily-fur-
nished apartments and was not able to find a
hiding-place.

True, one might try to hide under the straw
mattress in the rear garret, or think to esca
observation by crawlin under the cot in he
front, but it would be t e hight of folly to try
to play either of these games, for detection was
certain.

“Ye don’t see any hiding-place?“ cried the
aged dame, with a cunning leer.

"Nat-y place!" responded the girl, droppin
into the slang way that she sometimes assumetf

“ hf good woman, do not trifie with us,” the
detective said, seriously. “ This is no laughing
matter—no jest! These rulians who are fol-
lowing us up so closely are determined to shed
our blood, and although I am armed and pre-
pared to defend myself yet I do not wantto
become involved in a fight if I can help myself,
particularly when the odds are all in favor of
my antaz'oniste.”

"Hould yer whistl” cried the old woman,
with another knowing leer. “Ye mustn’t try
to tache yer grandmother to suck eggs, you

know.

“I’ll bids ye away where the divil himself
and all his imps couldn’t find yes!

' “ I’ll be afther putting es in my trunk.”

“ In your truukl” or both of the fugitives
in a breath.

“That is phat I sedl Hebhe ya think the

likes of an old woman like msself haan’t at
such a thing, had ’eess to er impudencel" cr ed
t?e Celtic lady, with a no show of indigna-
t on.
" But where is your trunk!” asked the girl,
lookin around with a bewildered expression,
while oiand Yorke came to the conclusion
that the old lady had taken too much liquor
and didn’t really know what she was talking
about.

“Oh, I have a trunk, and a fine wan, too.”
then the dame remond a small stri of carpet,
which was spread on the floor in rent of the
cat-bed, to one side, and pulled up two loose
boards in the floor, revealing quite a cavity be-
nesth.

"There’s ms trunk! there’s where I put me
valuables whin I go out, and divil a blaggard
has been cute enough to smell thim out.”

It was a tight squeese but the thrss all man-
sg'f‘d to get into the rev ty.

are was plenty of air, for the boards were
filled with cracks, so the fugitives endured the
confinement better than one would have ex-

pected.

The old woman replaced the boards and the
car t, and so it happened that the sugar search
of ristol Bill and his pals came to naught.

CHAPTER. III.

NAN. .
Wm Bristol Bill and his pals “treated,

the old woman followed them on ti -tos with
the stealthy caution of a cat, and opt watch
until she was satisfied they had quittcd the
house for good.

Then she returned to the srret, moved aside
the carpet, lifted the boa s and cried in tri-

umph: ,
“ You kin come out of that, me darlints, the

 

murthering blaggards have gone away, bad
’cess to thiuii”

The fugitives Were not sorry to emerge from
their narrow quarters, and even the dog seemed
deli hted to be released.

armly they expressed their thanks to the
old woman for the service she had done them.

“ Don’t be afther saying a worud, mejewals!”
she exclaimed loftily.

“Shore, it’s on] right for all decent pie
to Pain hands ag’in’ sich blaggards as ristol
Bil and his spalpeens.

“ Faixl I won d be a hap y woman for to see
that thafe of the woruld ance upon nothing
wid a. rope around his neck for to hold him up.”

“ He will come to that in time; there isn’t the
least doubt about it, unless some well-aimed bul-
let or keen edged knife cuts the thread of his
life in twain,",Rolaud Yorke remarked.

“ True for yeesl” Mrs. O’Neil exclaimed.
“ That do be the way the most of the hard b’yes
come to an ind.

“ But now, me jewels, jist make yerselves
comfortable here, while I do be afther seeing
phat the blaggurds are doing.

“ Hobbs, ye know, they are lying low ’round
the house somewhere, waiting for yen to come
out.”

“ I hardly think so, granny,” the girl observed
“ for after searching the house as thoroughly as
they did, they will not he apt to be under the
impression that we are still here. I guess they
would all be willing to bet high that we got out
while they were in the cellar.

“ Mebbe yez are right, darlint, but it won‘t
be afther doing any hurt for me to luck afther
thi m a bit.

“ There‘s no telling phat tricks sich blaggards
will be up to.

“I’ll be back as soon as I kin find out the
rights of the matter.”

And then the old woman departed.

The girl sat down upon the cot and motioned
to ttlhe etective to take the rocking-chair by the
ta e.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she observed,
in the free and ens way peculiar to her.

“From what I now of granny, I can just
tell you that it will be an hour at the least be-
fore we set eyes upon her face again.

“She’ll get down to the door. strike some of
the other old women in the neighborhood, and
then their tongues will go it in a way that will
be astonishing to behold.

“ I know grann of old,” she declared, with a
pert toes of her w as little head.

“ She’s generally good for an hour’s gossip at
the door on any ordinary night when there
isn’t anything in rticular to talk about, but
with the neighbor ood in a fever over this ruc-
tion, as it is to-night, I guess I am a little too

revious in thinking she will come to the scratch
u an hour.

“ I uess we had better say two hours, and so
be on he safe side.”

Roland Yorke smiled at the assumption of the
girl, but as he judged she was pretty near right
he sat down in the rockin —chair and prepared
to make himself comforts le.

For the first time he had now an opportunity
to study at his leisure the appearance of the girl
who had come so timely to s rescue.

She was petite in form, yet extremely well-
proportioned, and looked to be about fifteen
years old.

This youthful a pearance was partly owing
probably to the ashion in which she was at-
tired, for the dark calico dress she wore was
made in the plainest manner and only came to
the top of her boots, thereby giving her a youth-
ful appearance.

She had an odd face; it could not be called
pretty, yet after a few minutes' inspection it
was stran ely attractive, as the young man soon
discovered.

She was a ronounced brunette, with sharp
black eyes, a see more oval than round, a nose
which had a decided tendency to that shape
which is popularly termed “pug,” a skin well
browned, not only by nature but by exposure
to the sun as well, and her chestnut-brawn hair
curled in great tangled masses allover her well-
sha hand, which was disfigured by a hor-
rib y battered-up hat, vary much the worse for
wear.

Roland Yorke studied the fat» of the girl
for at least five mlnutss in perfect silence, and
the longer be looked the greater his intsrsst
grew.

It was one of those rare faces which at the first
glance the casual stranger would pronounce to
bs decidedly ugl .

“ A little dar thing, with a turn—n nose,
squirrel eyes and a shock head tang like a
lion’s mane,” would have been t s judgment of
about ninety-nine people out of a hundred.

But the hundredth-the careful jud a who
looks beyond the more surface. and w odoa
not allow himself to be biased h firstim res»
alone—would have decided that t egirl. ifpnot
a beaut in the rough, could, like the diamond,
be lis ad into one.

said of proper costume, carefully-aslectcd
wels, and an experienced hair-dre-sr, would
fie worked wonders in the appearance of the
g .

 

.. -.._ _ .. s.s.,__. .7 . W..- . ,—

Such thoughts as these ran rapidly through
the mind of Roland Yorke as, with earnest eyes.
be surveyed the person of the'giri.

She bore the scrutin unfiinchingiy for a
while, gazing at him With her sharp eyes as if
unconscious that she was the subject of so much

. attention.

Then, with a quick movement of her head and
just a shade of irritation perceptible in btl"
tones, she exclaimed:

“Well, I guess you will know me again when
you see me, won’t you eh!”

The detective start ; he had not really been
conscious that be was devoting so much atten-
tion to the girl, so interested was he in this new
and novel study, until her words recalled him
to himself.

“I beg your pardon!” he hastened to say" “1
did not mean to offend you.”

” Oh, no, of course not: I didn’t think you
did: but I tell you it isn’t quite the cheese for a
good-looking fellow like you to stare an ugly
girl, such as I am, clean out of her coaute
nance.”

“ But you’re not ugl i"

“ Oh, no, not by a jugfull” she cried. sarcas'
ticall y. “ There’s been a heap sight uglier girls
in the world than I am, but they’re all dead, and
you can bet high on it too."

Roland Yorke laughed; the girl was a char-
acter if there ever was one.

"Oh, you needn’t think to get out of it by
laughing!” she exclaimed, with a pout that was
wonder uliy becoming.

“ I’m rea mad, so now, and I don’t care if you
know it!

" The idea of sitting there and staring at me
jusgas ii‘ I wasastatue put here just to bestared
nt'

“Again I must beg you to forgive me; I did
not really know what I was about.

"Upon m word I assure you I was not con-
scious that was staring at you rudel- . I be-
came interested in your face, for it {s an odd
one, and before I knew I had fallen intoa brown
study over it, just as if you were a model sit-
ting for a portrait and I was the artist who was
to paint it.”

“ That’s real sweet, isn’t it?” and then she
burst into a pesl of laughter.

“I guess the artist who attempts to paint my
icture will come to the conclusion long before
e gets through that it is the toughest job he evvr

tackled.

“ If he is after a girl to sit for an imp or ahfe-
male devil, rhaps I might be able to fill the
bill!" she a ded.

“ ()‘o, no, you wrong yourself!”

“ No, I don’t! I know what I am as well as
anybody.

“You can’t giVe me any points on myself.
I’ve been there every time, and I know how the

cat jumps.

“ ’m much obliged to you for the taffy, all
th? gorge. i -

‘ a y 3 sweet, particularly to an n iri.
such as I am, even when I know  It is
tafiy.”

“ If you were dressed in a becoming manner,
with your hair properly arranged, on would
look well enough,” he remarked, wi the air of
a critic.

“ You think I would pass in a crowd!"

“ Yes, undoubtedly.”

“A big crowd-1 ve b crowd, say about
a million, so that I woul n’t ave any chance to
be seen,” and again this odd creature gave her—
self np to merriment.

“ 0b, not so bad as that!”

“ Well, I am as I am,” she remarked, abrupt-
ly sobering down, “ and I can’t help in self. i
try to behave myself as near as I know ow and
that is about the best i can do.”

" What is your name?”
u an.”

“ Nan?”

“ Yes, sir-ee, Nan; short and sweet _ in‘t it!”

“ Yes, it’s not an unpleasant-sound g name,
and although it used to be common, it's getting
to be rather odd nowadays."

“ Short for Nancy, of course. I got the
gage! f'rom granny here. She is Mrs. Nancy

ei .

 

CHAPTER XIII.
m Gum‘s mar.
“ But the old lady isn‘t your grandmother

Roland Yorke asked, unable to believe that-

thcre could be any tie of relationship between
this bright, intelligent girl and the dull, stupid
old woman, who could onl boast of a sortwf
low cunning, peculiar to t s race from which
she came.

“Not much!" replied the irl. “ She is no
kith or kin of mine, as far as can find out, but
as I told you on the stairs coming up, she’s the
woman who has looked after me since I was a
baby. and somebody palvs her eight dollars a
month for taking cars 0 me. That is, shamed
to take the sig
time when I started on my own book she has
turned the money over to me. , '

“ She’s a square old soul, you see, square as a

disl”
“I am decidedly interested in your history,
for them is evidently a mystery connected with

b

t dollars, but ever since the i ‘

10

yellir birth," the detective observed, thought-
ul .

“56h, yes, you can bet high on that. There. is
a big unys.ery, and l‘v» puzzled my head a good
deal over it since l’ve got old enough to take
care of myself, but l’Ve only had my labor for
my plins."

crccvl”
“Oh. no, she don‘t know any more about it
than I do.

“She’s a g>o<l old soul, though she’s a lectle '

too fond of t iking more benzine than is good
for her mum in awhile.

"‘She’s so fond of me that. slw would give the
whole thing away it' she could. but she can’t.”

“This seems like a riddle,” the detective re- '

marked, “ and I confess I do not understand it.”

“ 0h, I’ll spin the yarn right from the begin-
ning, and then you'll be able to get at the rights
of the matter," responded the girl.

“ I’ll give it to you just as straight as a
string, just the way granny give it to me, after
[got big enough to e inquisitive, and used to
pester the life out of her with questions.

“ How old do you think I am?"

“ Well, you look to be about fifteen, but
from your manner I should judge you were
older.’

“I will be eighteen next fall, but no one takes
me to be as old as that.”

“I should not from your appearance.”

" I wear short dresses on purpose so as to look
as childish as possible, for I don’t think it looks
nice for a great big girl to be selling papers in
the street.

"That is Wild' l I" for .'l living. you know,

“ Well, to come down in in, >‘urn : n w- mm.

‘mer-night about seventeen years ago, Mrs.‘

O’Neil was sitting at the end of one of the piers
for the sake of getting a breeze from the river,
for the day had been a scorcher, and the night
was about as bad.

“There was a lot of people on the pier when
she went down, but as the night wore on they
gradually went home.

“There was some barrels and bonus on the
dock. and granny found a snug nook. curled
herself up in it and went to sleep, expecting to
he rowel up by the party with whom she came
to the pier when they got read to go home.

“ But these folks forgot all a out granny, and
went away without waking be r.

“The first thing she knew was being roused
from her sleep by the sound of a woman sob-
bing, and when she looked around on the strin -
piece, right at the end of the pier not a wefi-
dressed young woman holding a baby in her
arms and talking to it in such a way that gran-
ny came to the conclusion that the woman had
gone crazy.

“I cannot do it—I cannot do il l” the woman
exclaimed, and then she Would cry and hug the
baby.,

“ There wasn’t a soul on the pier but granny
and the strange woman, oil the rest having
gone home, and from the hight that :tbe moon
had risen granny judged that it must be near
midnight.

" Now granny was always a good—natured
soul. so she up and snid:

“ ‘ Can I do anything, for ye, ma’am?’

“The strange lady grabbed her baby to her
breast, jumped to her feet, and granny for a
moment thought she was going to spring over-
board, so she made haste to grab her.

“ 'Don’t do it, ma’am, don’t leap into the
river for I’ll give the alarm and you’ll only be
fished out aga nl’ .

“ ‘ What is the use of living? said the stran e
lad . ‘ I am an unfortunate wretch and won d
be or better oi! beneath the dark waters than
anywhere else.’

" ‘ Oh don’t say that, ma’am!’ cried anny.
I ‘ A brig t, handsome lady like yourse f, sure,
there’s a great store of good luck for on some-
where in this world if you only take the trouble
to bout it up.’

“ ‘ I haven't a friend in the world i” the lady
exclaimed, looking as if her heart would break.

“"I'hore’s plenty of friends for you if you’ll
only give them a chance to show themselves.‘
granny replied.

“Granny always had the gift of the gab, as
she calls it, and that is because when she was a
girl in Ireland she kisrd tho blarney stone.

“The lady named to be struck by the force
of this'rcmark and looked earnest! at granny
as much as to ask if she was really n earnest. _

“‘Oh, I mean it, «:3 word of it!’ any
exclaimed. ‘ Sure, a like yourse could
call do well if you only ricd.’

“‘E’crhapia, perhaps, the other re lied.
‘ If I. only ad Inon f to look after but am-

” I am with this child, this living evi-
dence of m folly and mother’- sin, this innocent
babe that both love and hate-J
“Give it to me, ma’aml’ cried granny. in
that blundcriugagood-natured way of on.
“I'll take care it for you until you t a
chance to turn ’muud. My husband a sher—
maa,and away moatof the time, and as we never
had on children of our own in» won’t mind.

,“ ‘ ban you able you can pay a trifle if
you like or take babt‘OJmt as you planso.’
, “The lady accepted odor, gave the child

suppose the old woman is bound to se-

The

 ,, Granted Spotter.

 

m—

 

l
to granny, and arranged to meet her there on and when Yorke sent one of his p0werful riuhl~

the pivr on the first of the next month.
i “She kept the appointment, said she had
found friends, but wanted granny to keep the
‘ child. and agreed to pay her eight dollars a
1 month.”
i

sriid. amassing at the fact.

. “Yes, sir, I was that blessed baby!

i “Years assed on and I grew up. My mother
.’ —that is, irthe woman Who gave me lo granny
, was my mother-never cared to see me. She
i came regularly and paid the money, but never
i set 9 'es on me.

3 “ hen .I was eight years old the personal
1 payment stopped.

l “ The lady told granny that she was going to
leave the country, and did not expect to ever re«
turn to if. again.

“ The money would be paid through an agent,
and if the payments were ever stopped granny
might make up her mind that the lady was dead
and everything was ended.”

“ And the money has been regularly paid?”
the detective inquired, deeply interested.

“ Yes, regularly every quarter, until this last
quarter, then, when granny went for the money
to the old pawubroker,Moses Cohenson—perhaps
you know where his lace is on the Bowery?”

The detective nod ed.

Cohenson was one of those pawnbrokers who
was regarded by the detectives as being but lit-
tle better than a thieves’ “fence,” as the place
where stolen goods are disposed of is called in
the thieves’ argot.

” He’s the agent. He said the money had not
i come. but l‘.“ supposed it would be along in a
uln'.‘ --|' inn, ‘

" Do you think he knows the party?"

“He swears he doesn’t; s'ys that all he knows
is that he gets a dollar for paying over the

 

check. It is alwa s sent in the form of acheck,
and granny has 0 go to the bank to have it ’
cashed.”

“ That trail ought to be easily followed, and
if you like I’ll undertake the job of finding out
who and what this mysterious lady is."

A wistful look came into the girl’s dark eyes.

“ If she is my mother, I feel sometimes as if I
would like to see her. and then again I get hit-
ter and revengeful when I think how she cast
me off when an infant.

“ I ain’t much of a daughter, I know, for any
kind of a decent mother to be proud of, but
then just think, sir, how much worse I might
be if granny hadn’t taken such good care of
me."

“ You’re a good girl, Nun. and I believe that
there's the making of a noble woman in you!"
the detective cried, warmly.

“ Taffy again. and swwter than before.” she
said, with a laugh, but there were tears in her
dark eyes.

The old woman returned at this moment with
the intelli ence that the coast was clen r.

Roland orke took his departure, first mak-
ing an appointment with the girl. for he assured
her he would lose no time in following up the
claw he had secured. -

Through Cherry street the detective safely
passed without hindrance, but just as he turned
the corner of Catherine street he came face to
face with Bristol Bill and his two pals, Sheeny
Lew and Red Barry.

There was a about of recognition.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
mam 'ro ONI.

“AHA!” cried Bristol Bill, in triumph, “ this
time you shall not escape me!"

An , without pausing to draw a. weapon, he
threw himself upon the young detective. .

It was the deaperado’s lan to close in with his
foe so as to prevent him rom escaping by flight
and while he kept him em loyed. his associates
could attack the detective rom the rear.

It. was an old game, and one which had been
worked successfull a hundred times before.

‘ Man a man he been assailed after this fash-

on an
the round by just such ruflians as Bristol Bill
and is pals.

But though our hero appeared to be but
slightlyetimilt, ye: heI was one oi; thou; decgptivc
men, n r cct ropor iouc w o a

red mugb mullet-{bag he really was. p—

Roiand Yorke could hit out straight from the
shoulder as well as any professional boxer, u
be quicklg roved to the man who assailed him.

Bristol ll, rushing upon his pray with the
ferocit of a tiger, was met by a right-baud”
mum y delivered just between the cyan. and
with so much pewcr in it that the diaper!“
went reeling backward like a drunken man.

Rad Barry, who was run t to follow the ex-
ample sat by his chief n a log the young
man, caught a smashing blow from the detac-

housc had fallen on him.
Shortly Lew

more export also, for be was a pugiliot by pro-

fession when not engaged in the pleasant occu-

pation of making free with other people's prop-

erty, made a hint of closing with he detective,

 

left bleeding and almost lifeless upon .

l

handers straight at his head, succeeded in dodg».
ing the blow, then broke through the guard of
Yorke and cloacd in With him.

His success, though, was short-lived. for no

» Sooner had be grasped the detective than lin-

“ And you Were that child,” Roland Yorke 1'

 

 

tivo’a fist which landed on his nose, and, for the L when Red Barry weakened. nude-rod

moment. gave him the impression that a brick l for the time being of doing any dam-g,
l tec'lvo turned his entire attention

more cautious than his fellows, : Bill.

other, with an adroimess that fairly astoundwl
the [,lugilist, got an under grip on him, and with
an eXertion of strength that not one judge out
of a thousand would have deemed possible to
exist in such a slenderly-built man, “threw”
Sheeny Lew, bringing him to the ground with
a force that made every bone in his body feel
sore.

V The fallen man had accomplished his purpose,
though, for, during the few seconds that he had
contrived to occupy, Bristol Bill and Red Barry
were afforded an opportunity to recover from
the effects of the blows they had received.

And no sooner had the detective completed
Sheeny Lew’s downfall than the two were upon
him.

They closed in so quickly that Roland Yorke
was not afforded any opportunity to we his
fists.

The three men struggled with each other like
so many angry serpents for a few moments and
then came to the ground, all in a heap.

By this time Sheenv Lew was on his feet - Dd
drawing a stout club from his pocket—a peculiar
weapon made of ratan, loaded in one end with
a solid lump of lead. an English instrument,
commonly termed a life-preserver-endeavored
to get a chance to hit the detective on the head
with it.

A single blow from the life-preserver. dealt
by Sheeny Law’s vigorous band, would. on-
duubtedly, have laid the detective out as flat as
a mackerel.

But the contestants were twisting and turn.
ing so r:-pidly that the rufllan hesitated to strike
for fear of injuring one of his pals instead of
the detective.

Then, too, a crowd had immediately gathered.
and although there were quite u. number of
roughs in the throng. who were well acquainted
with Bristol Bill and his party. and could be
depended upon to lend a hand, if n quested so to
do, yet there were also strangers present, sailors.
mostly, more or less under the irtlum cc of
liquor, and all clamorous for “ fair play.”

“ Three ag’in’ one ain’t the cheese. noh0w,
you kin fix it,” one of the sailors declared, and
as he was a. broad-shouldered fellow, about six
feet high and evidently gifted with great per-
sonal strength, besides being one of that class of
mariners commonly termed “ hard as a pine
knot,” his utterance had decided weight.

The moment he reached the scene of confl ct,
heading a party which consisted of half a
dozen jolly Jack Tars, who had evidently been
having a deuce of a time, and ascertained what
the matter was, he interfered in the row.

“ You put up that joker of yournl” he cried.
stcrnly, to Sheeny Lew, and he shook a brawn
fist at the rough in a manner that lplainl indi-
cated he intended to have the commando eyed.

“ Don’t you dare to attempt to use that air
we’pon or I’ll knock you clean through the side
of a brick house!”

And as Sheeny Lew, with the experience born
of long practice, looked at the man, the idea
came into his head that the sailor would be
pretty apt to try the experiment. and if he did
not succeed would come mighty near to it.

“ Fair play is a jewel the world over, and me
and my mates are going to have it, if we have
to clean out the ha I gang of ye!" the sailor con-
tinned.

The Cherry street run be are des rate men,
but they knew full well t e danger t era was in
provokinga party of Jack Tars on a bit of a
spree.

The sailors always fought like demons when
their blood was up and then too every man of
them carried a sheath-knife, and when hard
pressed they were not apt to hesitate to use the
weapon as many a man along shore could testify
to his cmt.

“ Form a ring—stand back, all of you!" yelh d
the big sailor in a stentorian voice. " Let ’. m
fight it can I’ll put my money on the lll'lc
cuss, even if he has got two big tellers ag’in’
him i”

The keen-e ed sailor had calculated rightly:
de ite the do Roland Yorke was getting the

of the struggle.

in such a contest as this the two acting to;
gether could not employ their forces to ood ad
vantage. and the detective had managed to obv
tain a decided lead.

With his slender left hand, which was, how-
ever, as strong as though made out of steel be
had caught Rod Barry by the throat and choked
him until the eye. of bat worthy protruded
and be turned black in the face.

With the other he succcmfully minted Bris-
tol Bill’s attempts to do him material harm. and
incapable
the dc—
Bristol

Just at this moment the cry of police was
heard. and two stalwart canon. club in hand.
for-cod their we through tho thron .

“Help, help!‘ Roland Yorke cried, tho moo

i

 

Therfientielfisetter-

 

5...-..

ment he heard the kl: I raised that the police
vwrc at hand.

"I am a deiH‘ilVe oilit-er and have laid hold
of Bristol Bill!”

'i‘ue announcement threw a. damper over the
enthusiasm of the sailors, for these men seldom
have reason to 104k upon a policeman in too
light of a friend. _

Sneeny Lew Was quick to perceive and take
advantage of the turn of the tide.

“ The cops are coming, boys! will you let Bill
be taken 1” he cried.

There was a wild yell and a sudden rush of
the crowd.

The detective‘s prisoner was torn from his
grasp, and at the same moment he received a
dozen diflerent blows from as many different
men, and one of the licks, a vicious one on the
head, that he felt sure was inflicted by the “life-

reserver” of Sheeny Lew, was so assure that

or a moment he “saw stars.”

But by the time the police got to the spot he
was himself again, but the ruflians had tied,
with the exception of Red Barry, too weak to
esca .

“ hat’s the row?” cried one of the police-
men, as Roland Yorke rose slowly to his feet.

“A little tussle with Bristol Bill and his
gang, that’s all,” Yorke repli . “I am a de-
tective officer attached to t a central office,
and was sent out expressly to capture Bristol
Bill.

“I found him all right, but his pals were with
him, and they attempted to lay me out.

“The would have succeeded, too, I think, if
some as lors hadn’t interfered so as to give me a.
show for my money.

“ Bristol Bill managed to get away, but I’ve
got this fellow dead to rights.” '

The police assisted the fallen man to rise, and
great was their astonishment when they dis-
covered that the man whom the detective had
managed to overcome in this triangular fight
was the notorious Red Barry.

In wonder they looked upon the dandlfled
young man.

What kind of a fellow was he to be able to
overcome such a man as the desperado, and at
the same time “ stand of! ” Bristol Bill?

This capture made a deal of talk in police
circles, and the authorities soon made up their
minds that they had got hold of a valuable man
when they admitted Roland Yorke into the de-
tective force.

“You look like a dandy, but you seem able to
hold your own against the best of them,” the
old superintendent remarked.

“Yes; Bristol Bill dubbed me the Gonteel
Spotter, and I hope before I get through to
make the name worthy of remembrance,” the
young man replied.

CHAPTER. XV.
ON THE TRAIL.

ALTHOUGH the lice authorities were glad to
get hold of Bed arr , yet they regretted the
escape of Bristol Bil, for Bill, in the thieves’
world, ranked as being equal to about a dozen
of the others.

Bristol Bill bad the head to plan, while Red
Barry was but a sin id fellow, able only to
carry out the orders g vsn him.

One was the master, the other only a ser-
vant.

Red Barry was wanted on a couple of serious
charges, and, acting on the principle of set a
thief to catch a this , the authorities offered to
make it easy for him if he would in informa-
golili that would lead to the trapp ng of Bristol

I .

Bill was in the city, carefully concealed some-
where, the police felt sure, but all the private
and public detectives at the command of the
authorities were utterly at fault in regard to
him.

He kept so discreetly in the background that
the closest search failed to find him.

Red Barry was true to his chief, and laughed
at the offers made to him.

“ Maybe you may be able to send me up the
river, but you’ll never be able to keep me there,”
he declared defiantly. .

"And as for Bristol Bill, if you want him so
bad, on had better put on your spectacles and
look or him.

“I'm not giving away pals at this stage of
the game.”

Finding that the roman could neither he
bribed or frightened into betraying his chief,
thorn rintcudent of police avo the case en-
tirer nto the hands of Rolan Yorke.

“Goalieadl do the host you can, and I will
back you up with all the power at my com-
mand ’ be said.

The detective ladly accepted the mission.

Meanwhile be ad not been idle in the case of
the young girl who had come so timely to his
rescue in the old cellar.

He had met her according to appointment,
and obtained from her all the particulars in

ard to the mvstcrious payment of the money
w ich the old woman received quarterly.

Armed with this information, he had called

upon the J aw pawnbroker.

Moses Cohsnson was the. name under which,

the man did business, but the detective had

 

 

learned by inquiry among the force attached

to the central office that it was more than sus- .

pected he had no claim to either name.

His reputation was decidedly bad.

Stolen goods had been traced to his place
time after time, and though he had been re-
peatedly cautioned that some day he would got
himself into serious trouble if he did not look
more closely after his business, it did not do the
least good.

In fact, all the detectives were perfectly sure
that the pawnbroking was a mere blind to cov-
er his real business, which was that of a
“ fence,” or receiver of stolen goods.

In person the pawnbroker was a little, with-

01

A smooth—spoken, oily sort of a chap, with a
squeaky voice and a sneaky manner.

A man who never by any chance looked any-
body in the eye, and who always cringed and
crouched as though he was afraid some one was
going to strike him.

Another peculiar habit he had, too.

Whenever he talked with anybody, he was
always rubbing his hands together, as if he was
washing them in invisible soap and water.

Slippery Moses was the name by which be
was generally known, and from long 6 ri-
ence, all who were intimately acquainted with
him regarded the name as being particularly
appropriate.

Moses’s establishment was situated on the
Bowery, as the second principal artery of great
Gotham is called, the great shopping street of
the middle class of the city.

A truly cosmopolitan street where almost
everything under the sun can he bought, and

on whose over crowded sidewalks the natives of .

twenty different countries can be encountered,
and the effect of so many languages falling
upon the ears, as the crowd hustles onward, re-
calls to one's memory tne story of the Tower of
London.

The shop of the Jew was a very insignificant-
looking one.

There was a small show-window, wherein a
miscellaneous collection of articles was dis-
played, ranging from so-called diamond rings
down to a child s rattle.

Conspicuously over the door hung the pawn-
broker‘s sign, the same all over the world, no
matter the country, nor the language, the three
golden balls, the old-time arms of the Floren-
tine house of the Medicis, who long years ago
in the land of sunny Italy lent money to their
brother nobles, took usury and security, and so
founded the numerous if not noble line of pawn-
brokers.

But in the cant slang of the day the three
balls signify that it is “two to one you don’t
take out what you put in.”

“ Slippery Moses ’ was in the shop when the
detective entered.

It was a remarkable fact, and one often com-
mented upon both by Moses’s customers and the

lice, that no one ever visited the shop and
ound the old man absent.

He seemed to be as much of a fixture as the
counter in the place.

The old Jewbnd eyes like a hawk, yet he al-
ways woro afair of old-fashioned, iron—bowed
spectacles, wi h light blue glasses.

Shrewd men said it was to conceal the ex-
prvision of his eyes.

W hen it came to difficult work the Jew could
control every muscle in his face with the skill
of a practiced actor, but he feared the eyes
would betray him so he kept them guarded.

The pawnbroker was sitting upon a high
stool behind the counter, with an extremely
dirty memorandum-book in his hand and the
stub of a pencil, busy in calculation.

When the young man entered he favored him
with a re id glance, and the detective felt that
the wn roker was takinga mental inventory
of h m and all his belongings.

“ Are you Mr. Cohenson i” Yorke asked.

The Jew ut away the [book ind pencil, got
down from a stool and shambled up to the end
of the counter.

“Yesh, yeah, dat is mine name, mine fr‘end,”
be sold, again annoying his visitor with a glance
so piercing that it seemed to go right through
him like a imlet.

“ I’ve a l ttle bit of business with you."

“ Yeah, mine fr’end, yeah: vat ish it?" and the
oldman ethnmenccd to wash his hands with the
invisible soap and water.

“It is a ittls private matter,” the detective
e lalned.

1: almost imperceptible look of mistrust
passed rapidly over the face of the wnbroker.

Roland Yorke did not look at a 1 like a cus-
tomer, either regular or irregular and the Jew
did not know exactly what to make of it.

He had not come into the store to awn any-
thing, that was svident, nor did he ook like a
thief who had made a successful haul and had
come to the shop to dispose of his booty. _

“ Yesh. vesh, vat ish it, my tear!" smoothly
spoke the Jew.

“ Do you know an old lady called Mrs. Nancy
O‘Neill"

The Jew a peered to reflect profoundly for a
moment, an then said: '

 

ersd-looking, fox-like man, about fifty years‘

11

 

 

! “Yesh, yesh, I t’iuk de name ish familiar to
mo. 7?

V “ Well, I should say it ought to be, considering

} that you have been doing business with her for
a dozen years or more.”

“Yeah. yeah, is dat so?” and the pawnbrokcr
looked inquisitiver at the other, as if to ask
what on earth the matter was to him.

I “You know it is so; what is the use of Inn!-
1 ing around the bush?”

f “ Mine goof fr’end, I never beats around du-
f bush 3” protested Slippery Moses.

: “ I’ve come to see you about that little mat—
,‘ ter.’

l “Yesb, yesh.”

“ I represent a certain party who has a great
interest in the affair, and I want to find out
where the money comes from.”

“ Monish? Vat monishl” exclaimed the old
man with an expression of the utmost astonish-
ment upon his face, just as if he knew nothing
at all about the matter.

“ Oh, come, no nonsense!” cried the detective.
decidedly. “ You know what 1 mean. well
enough. I refer to the money that you, for the
last sixteen or seVenteen years, have paid quar—
terly to Mrs. Nancy O’Neil, always giving her
your check for the amount.

“ I want to trace that money on behalf of the
child for whom the money is sent.”

“ Ah, my tear fr’end. you are a lawyer, then?”
said the pawnbroker, IllSIl Uhtil gly.

“No, sir, I am not."

“ Vat then—vhy take you an interest in der
afl‘air, hey?”

“ 1 am a detective from the central (mce.”

The old man surveyed his visitor fora mo-
ment, noted the foppish manner of his dress—tho
general “ dude ” air which he wore, then smiled
I and shook his head.

“ Oh, no, mine tear fr’end, you hafe made
some mis‘ake; I know all der detectives—I hate
in New York live long while. No, you are not
from der central office,” and the Jew shook
his head and washed his hands in the invisible
water more briskly than ever.

“ Moses. I am giving it to you as straight as a
ramrod,” Yorke replied.

“ I am a new-comer on the force, but I‘ve no
doubt I shall be able to make your acquaintanca
in a business way, before lon .

“ My name is Rolando Yor e.”

“ Mine gootness, der Gentleman Spotter!”
cried Slippery Moses, in considerable astonish-
ment, which was not unmixed with alarm.

CHAPTER XVI.
THE FRENCH comer.

Tait detective laughed. ,

He had produced an impression as he had cal-
culated upon doing.

" You have struck it right the first time,” the
detective said.

“ That is what I am called, I believe, and I
am indebted to an old friend of yours for the
title.”

“ A friend of mine?” and the Jew’s little, cun-
ning eyes glared suspiciously.

“ Yes. Bristol Bill.”

“ Bristol Bill," the pawnbroker remarked, in
a vacant sort of way, just as if he had never
heard the name before.

“Yes, you know him well enouglhl: it’s no use
for you to affect ignorance. at sort of
thing is plaved out.

“ Bristol Bill is an old customer of yours.”

“ So helup me gootnessl” protested the Jew,.
“ der name is stran to me. Mebbe I know
der mans, mobbe he sh a stomer of mine, but
I hafe so many fr‘ends w ose names I db not
know, and don my memory is bad.” i

“ Particularly when on don’t want to re-
member, ohl” and the etcctive smiled, for he
knew the pawnbrokcr was speaking falsely.

" But never mind Bristol; I didn’t come here
to talk to you about Bill. i am not ing to
worm anything out of you about him. ’ve
a rod in pickle for that gentleman, and I tb nk
it will not be long before I get a chance to clap
the darhles on his wrists.”

“Der darbies?” said the Jew, in a tone of
question, just as if he had never heard the word
before. -

“ The darbies. that is exactly whatI said, and
of course you don‘t know the meanirg of it,
you are such an innOcent chap. You never

eard it before, did you!"

" i t’ink not,” and the pawnbrokrr endeavored
to smear as much like a greenhorn as possible.

“ Well, my honest friend. since you appear to
be so ignorant of the thieves’ Ian age, the re-
nowned and ancient argot, learn rom mo that
darhiea moans bracele of steel, handcuffs, in
fact."

“ Ah, yeah. I vill remember dat.” ‘

“ Yes, don’t you forget it! But now to busi-
ness. I represent the yonn girl on whose be
half Mrs. O'Neil receives a money that she
gets from you quarterly. and I want to find out
who that mone comes from. ' 

“ If you can elp me to procure this informa-
tion I shall be ve much obliged to you, and I
give you my w I will try to return the favor

some time. .
“ But if, on the con ‘ . you are to
be ugly and do not foal ii 0 giving me apointsr,

 

 

 

 

12

The _ Genteelt §P°il9¥z

 

then I shall do my best to get square with you
one of these days.

"You Moses, I talk right open and above-
hoard. There’s nothing like coming to an un-
derstandlng in these little matters.

“Treat me right and you will find me a friend
who will stick b you if you ever get into a
tight place, but i you choose to act mean there
isn’t a man bn the force who will hunt you down
as persistently as Roland Yorke l”

‘ Mine goo nose! I am der nicest mans in der
city! ’ the pawnbroker protested. “ I vill tell
you vat you vant. V’y shouldn’t I? It is no

’isness of mine."

“That is the way to talk, Moses, so 0 ahead,
and, as I said before, it will be decided y to your
advanta to he! me all you can in this mat.
ter,” rep led the etective.

“ Oh, yeah, mine gootness! that ish der kind of
mans I am!" and the old Jew washed his hands
vigorously in the air.

“I vill tell you all I know, but so helup me
gracious! it ish not much.

“ Shust about seventeen years ago, a lady
came to me von night as I vash closing der shop

up.

“She vas shust a common kind of vomans,
not poor, nor not rich, to shudge from der
clothes she vore.

“She vorc a dark vail, so thick dat not von
leetie bit of her face could I see, but t’inks I to
mineselup from der vay you speak, you are a
young vomans.

“She says to me, ‘Moses Cohenson, dey say
(lat you are an honest man l’ I say, right quick,
‘ Mine gootness, you can bet all you hafe in der
vorld on dat.’

“Then she explain herselup. She vants to
pay Mrs. Nancy O'Neil so much by d°r year,
payable quarterly in advance, but she has a
reason vy she does not Vent to see der party.

“She ask me, ‘Say I put der money in an
envelope and put it into your letter-box—’ you
see der slit inder door derei” and the pawn-
broker pointed to the store-door where there
was a slit for the rece tion of letters. -

“ Behind der door t era is a. box for the let-
ters,” the Jew explained.

“ ‘ Three or four days before the money is due
I will at the money into your letter-box. and
when e old voman comes on gife her a check
for the money. Vill you 0 it and how much
you charge, ehi’

“ I see der game in a minute; der check vas a
check on me and on der old vomans too.

" I hafe always been ready to turn der honest
penny ever since I vas born. I told der lady,

Oh. yeah! 1 vill do it for so much moni-h.’

“Very sheep, my fr’end, because I am an
honest mans and alvays ready to oblige der
vomans.

“I hafe never see de'r lady from dat day to
dis. Der mone has always Comes as regular as
clockwork unti dis quarter. Der time vas two
veeks ago, but dis tirue it ish nixy weeden,” said
the paw nbroker in conclusion, dropping readily
in to the argot.

“ Honest, now, is this the truth that you have
told me?" questi0ned the detectivs, locking the
pawnbroker square in the eye.

u The Jew lifted both hands in solemn assevera-
on.

“So helup me Father Abraham it ish!” he
cried. “ I vish I may die die minute if it isn’t!
0hl sir, I am a square mans vhen I am treated
like a gentlemans.

"/Vhy should I lie to you? it ishmot to my in-
terest. Bo helup me gracious, I vill not lie ex~

‘ ' no t in the vay of business!

‘I vant to be fr’ends vith you, mine goot
sir; I have heard der boys talk about you al-
read . Into mine shop comes all sorts of
geopIs, you know, but I can’t help dat; it ish

’isness.

“Some day I may into trouble get. It a man
gents a watch here mlt me. how can I tell dat

r ‘ ticker’ was ‘ faked’ from a ‘suckerl’ How
Ila! to know it vas stolen?

In some case like dat you vill s air a goot

' word for me, mebbei” and-the pawn roker look-

' has stopped. I

sd anxiously at the detective.
“ Oh, yes' I will do what I can for you.”
“I hate told you all I know, so helup nae
gracious! I vould not know der vomans if I
met her der street on, for I hate only seen her

. dat time, seventeen years ago,” the pawnbroker

“ Did the meney” ever fail to come in time be-
fore!” Roland Yorke asked thoughtfully.

“ Never!" cried the g , av. emphatically.
“i’no’s’t always it lab in dsr boxa week ahead of
t ,

sz ‘ ‘
m: Looks as if it had. stopped for good, doesn’t

The wnbroker shrugged his shoulders.

it “Me, be; perhaps der vomans ish dead.”

“That would account for in I’m much
obliged to you for the information. and if it is
ever in my power to do you a favor you can
cemmand me.”

Then amid the profuse thanks of the pawn-
'bro er Roland Yorke departed.

“ bet ail mus npa tree,” hsmnrmursd, as
hspr ed n the Bowery. “If the money
on’t many wa to fit at the
mystery. If the remittance ar Ves, t in when

 

 

the time draws near for the next yment I can
put a watch day and night on oses’s prem-
ses and follow the messenger who deposits the
mom in the box.

“ othing can be done new, though, until the
money comes, and so until that event takes
glues I will devote my attention to trapping

ristoi Bill.

From certain information that had reached
police head-quarters it was surmised that the
whereabouts of Bristol Bill might be known to
some high-toned gamblers who held forth at an
elaborately fitted up “club room ” on Thirty-
first street, a few doors from Broadway.

80, about eleven o’clock, the detective, in one
of the most complete disguises that mortal man
ever assumed, made his appearance at the Fifth
Avenue Hotel, and from this central point
lounged up and dawn Broadway, stopping in at
all the popular night resorts.

Roland Yorke on this occasion was disguised
as a Frenchman, and he looked the modern
Gaul to the life.

He had put on a black wig, the hair of which
curled in little crispy ringlets close to his head;
a jet-black mustache and imperial, both with
carefully-waxed and pointed ends, completely
altering the whole rxpression of his features.

He had even taken the trouble to ap ly a d e
to his face and hands, so that his skin ad a e-
cided olive tinge.

In his scarf lre wore a handsome diamond
gin; a solitaire diamond ring adorned the little

nger of his left hand: an elaborate watch-
chain shone upon his vest—front; his dress, from
hat to boots, was irreproachable, and as he
Eromenaded up Broadwa swinging a light cane

a locked for all the wor d like a distinguished
foreigner, blessed with plenty of money, and
out for a night‘s enjoyment. .

The detective’s game was a simple one.

He expected to attract the attention of some
of the well-dressed, agreeable “gentlemen ”
who acted as runners for the high-toned up—town
gambling-houses.

“ Coppers-in ” is the professional name for
them, and their business is to frequent first-class
hotels and drinking-houses, make the acquaint-
ance of well-dressed strangers, men who were
new to the city and who looked as if they
had money to lose, and induce them to visit the
temples devoted to the worship of the goddess,
Fortune.

The bait was a tempting one, and inside of
half an hour from the time he made his ap-
gearance upon the street the deteccive got a

ite.

And the gentleman who singled him out as
being worthy of attention was the very man
whom Yorke desired to meet.

Hungry Joe he was popularly called, the chief
runner for the gambiing~house in Thirty-first
street.

 

CHAPTER XVII.
'rnn CONFIDENCE MAN.

HUNGRY Jon was about as well known to the

lice as any rascal in New York, but so care-

ully did he conduct his operations that it was
but rare! the authorities gOt a chance at him.

The to low had one res? gift—a. gift which
rendered him almost nva uable to any first-
clsss gaming-house. and that was a natural
talent or gaining the confidence of utter stran-
gers.

Hungry Joe, although not particularly blessed
with good looks, yet had a pleasant and agree-
able way with him.

He looked like a gentleman, acted like one-—
in fact. the rascal had been well brought up,
bein the scion of an old and respectable family,
but ad one to the bad earl in life, the result
of follow ng his own unchec ed impulses—and,
as a conversationalist, it is doubtful if his
superior could be found without a long search
among educated and gifted men.

Being a well-read man, and taking particular

'care to keep, up with the times, he was thor-

oughly posted upon almost ever subject, and
so was ambled to get upon famil ar terms with
strangers, if they were at all inclined to he
sociable.

In the game which the detective had resolved
to lay he had one great advantage.

ing a new man on the force be was not
personally known to the criminal classes. while
he had taken particular pains to familiarize
himself with a! the representativemen of the
different rades.

So it appened that the moment he saw
Hungry Joe he reco ized him, while even if
he had not been disgu sod the confidence man-—
as the ex rts in that line of business which
Hungry os followed are termed—would not
have had the slightest suspicion that Yorke was
one of the detectives from the Central Office.

Our hero had Just entered the elaborately
fitted u cafe of the Hofiman House. when he
noticed s had attracted theattention of Bungrz
Joe, who had been loun ing on the sidewal
nfati; the door of the bots on the lookout for a
v c m. .

Hungry Joe followed the detective into the
saloon which was ,well filled with customers,
some drinking at the bar. o'hers conve‘sing in
little knots in the center of its apartment,

 

‘3

while quite a number were exumining and
admiring the costly paintings which adorned
the walls.

The detective joined one of these groups so as
3 give the confidence man a chance to accost

"I.

Taking out his e Iasses and putting them
inlposition he aflect to be engaged in a critical
examination of one of the paintings.

“ Beautiful!” he murmured, as if communing
with himself. yet loud enough to reach the ears
of Hungry Joe, who had taken up a position
right behind him.

"Praia! it is as fine a icture as I have ever
seen—n—ze female forms are cvely beyond expres-
sion.

The detective had assumed a slight accent
only, just enough to enable any one to suppose
he wrs a foreigner.

“By Jove! it is really so rhi" Hungry Joe
remarked, affecting the Eng ishman on this oo-
CBSIOD.

“ I beg your pardon, sir,” he continued, touch-
ing the di~guiscd detective on the shoulder,
“ but could you tell me the name of this really
superior work of art?”

“Well, really, I am not exactly sure of as ex-
act title, but I think it is known as Faust's
Tem tation, or something of that sort.

“ aust, you will observe, is the bearded man
in the center, gazing with such enrnptured eyes
upon as beautiful women, so perfect in both
face and form, while the sneering fellow‘at his
elbow represents Mephistcpheles, the Prince of
Darkness, who is showing the mortal what
pleasures he can bestow upon him if he will
only consent to sign away’ his soul in considera-
tion of a. few years of un imited pleasure."

“I don’t really know if it would be such a
deuced bad bargain after all,” the confidence
man observed.

“ Those angelic women are almost enough to
tempt a saint, particularly such saints as we
have nowadays.

“I was just going to take a little liquid re-
freshment, but as I hate to drink alone, I was
looking around for a friend; not much chance
of meeting one, though, for I am almost a
stranger in the city—I’ve only been here a
week.”

“ Something like my own case, but I only ar-
rived to-day.’ the detective replied.

“By Jove! sir, I am glad to meet you. My
nameis Altenhanz—Harr'y Altenlism, of Lon-
don, England. I’ve just run across the herring-
gond to see what kind of a beastly c untry they

ad here, anyway.”

“My name is Melanforte—Adolph Melan-
forte. I am a Frenchman by birth, but have
been doing business so long in this country—in
Canada, Montreal—that I regard myself as be-
ing almost a native," Yorke remarked.

And then the two shook hands in the most
cordial manner.

Hungry Joe chuckled in his sleeve at the easy
mannerin which he had succeeded in making
the acquaintance of the man who, he thought,
would prove a rich prey. while the detective
was equal] rejoiced at being able to humbug
such an oi hand at the business as the confi-
dence man so successfully.

“ Well. how do you like the city as far as you
have got?” Hungr Joe asked.

“I have hardly en in town long enough to
be able to pass an opinion.”

“ Is this our first visit to New Yorki"

“ch, a though I have been a resident of
Montreal for years."

“ Come down to have a little fun, I suppose!”
said Hungry Joe, snggestively.

“Yes, that is mv idea,” and the detective
laughed as if he thought his companion had
given utterance to a good joke. ‘

“ That is about my case, and I generally
manage to have a good time when I am in
foreign parts; but I was 1aim going to take a
drink, as I said; will you in me?"

“C°rtainly: much pleasure it will lve me,”
replied the supposed Frenchman, bow ng with
stately dignitdy. -

The two a vanoed to the bar. irdulged in a
brace of “cocktails.” for which Hungry Joe
paid, and then the disguised detective insisted
upon his new-made friend imbibing at his ex-

use.
peThe confidence man consented readin enough, ,
glad of an opportunity to “ sine u ” the pocket-
book of the Other, and his eyes airly s rklsd
with delight when the detective, in sstt irg for
the “drinks.” displayed a large wallet, crowded
with bills of large denominations, which he
carried in the inner breast-pocket of his-coat.

“ Are yen bound for an particular lace this
evening?” Hungry Joe a ed, as the we saun-
tered toward the door of the saloon.

“ Oh, no, only cut for the purpose of killin
time. I am a mere straw upon the surfaceo
the tide, content to float in whatever direction
accident may see fit to can me,” the other re-
plied, with true French ind fi'erence. '

“ I own case exactly, although I had a
sort 0 idea I should drr'lp into aclnb~house up
the street here, where was introduced last

night.”
‘ A club-house?" ,
“ Yes, a regular first—class place; as fine a one

 

 

 

 

13

 

The Genteel Spotter.

 

as I was ever in, and that is saying a great deal
too, for I have been the rounds in ‘Lunnon
town,’ and have seen everything worth seeing.”

“ What sort of a place is it?" asked the detect-
ive assuming to be interested in the matter.

‘ A temple devoted to the worship of the
goddess of chance, and I was really astonished
to see that the very best men in New York were
hovering about the shrine."

“ Nothing surprising in that; a man who is a
man with blood in his veins instead of water
must have his fling once in a while,” the make-
believe Frenchman repliei, with suugfroid.

“ When I was in Paris I made the grand
rounds with some friends w ho were kind enough
to do the honors, and we had a glorious time.
Ze s rt was superb—magnificent!”

“ggmetimes t is deuced expensive, though;
I remember one rouse that we had in London
cost me a hundred unds, and the deuced cash
was us almost be ore I knew it. It took unto
iteel wings and vanished.”

Hungry Joe was laying the character of the
light-hearted, jovia Englishman to the life, and
if the detective had not been posted as to who
and what he really was, he would surely have
been tricked.

“I have never been unfortunate: the blind
goddess always smiles upon me. Peste.’ I am
utterly indifferent about the matter. I do not
care whether I win or lose,” the other replied,
with an rb indiflerence.

“By owe! you would be just the fellow to
break one of these banks!” Hungry Joe ex-
claimed, pretendin to be sudden y impressed
with an intense a miration for the nerve dis-
played by his companion.

‘ Look you here! I have half a mind to go
with you to-night, and see if I cannot astonish
these Yankee Doodles!” the supposed, French-
man observed, abruptly.

“ That’s a deuced good idea! By JOVe! 1 be-
lieve that you could make the fellows squeal!”

“ I’ll do it!" the other exclaimed, decidedly.

“I have not- had anything to stir my blood for .

along time, but I do not know if I have money
enough. I have not over four or five thousand
with me, and to break a bank, you know, my
friend. one must play a big game.”

Again the eyes of Hungry Joe sparkled, and
it required all his self-possession to revent him
from betraying the satisfaction he elt.

Five thousand dollars was a pretty big haul.

“ I did not think!” continued the detective
before Hungry Joe could a eak. “I have my
check-book on the bank 0 Montreal. My sig-
nature is good for twenty thousand.”

“ Oh, you have money enough, so let’s be off!"

Hungry Joe's mouth was watering to et at
this wonderfully rich pigeon; not often id to
chance to meet one so well worth the plucking.

Fifteen minutes later the two were ascending
the steps of a palatial brown-stone-frout man-
sion on Thirty-first street.

CHAPTER XVIlI.
m rm: DEN.

“ I‘M not uite sure that 1 will be able to get
in," Hungry oe observed, in a dubious sort of
way, to his companion as he pulled the bell.

“This is one of the high-toned places, and
they do not admit andy strangers unless they
are roperly introduce .

“3 friend, who knows the ropes, introduced
me, an I rather think the sable guardian of the
dozgw ll be apt to remember me, but he may
no .

The detective understood that this was all
gammon. for Hungry Joe, being a regular run-
net for the house, was as well known to the ser-
vants as the pro rietors of the establishment.

But this little it of “ funny business," as it is
termed among the ” profession,” was for the
pur e of inspiring the proposed victim with
per set confidence in the honesty of his com-
pauion.

And so, when the servant appeared—lie was a.
stout, cod-looking negro, clad in a complete
suit of lack, with a white necktie, lookin re-
' spectable in the extreme—at first he aflec not
to remember “ do gemmau " at all.

The door was so arranged with a bolt and
chain on the inside that it could only be opened
about three inches—just fsr enough for the ser-
vant to get a view of the applicants for admis—
sion; then, if the inspection was not satisfac-
tory, he could decline to admit them, and it
would be impossible for them to force their way
into the house.

In case of a descent of the police, while they
were engaged in breaking the door 0 n, ample
time would be allowed for the gamblieers within
to escape.

At last the servant pretended to suddenly re-
member that he had seen de gemman before,
and said he would admit him, but hesitated in
regard to his companion.

The “on per." however. upon assuri the
man that t e gentleman wasa “ thorough ed,"
in every respect, succeeded at last in securing
admission.

The door was opened by the colored Cerberus
and the visitors were ushered into a hall titted
up in the most luxurious manner.

“De password to-uight. gemmena, is cham-
ongne and oysters!" said the negro, as the two

 

passed by him, and be carefully closed the door
after them.

“What means he by that?” the disguised de-
tective inquired, thinking that it was his game
to ap ar ignorant, although he had a pretty
good idea in regard to the matteh

“We have to pass another guarded portal.
As I told you, this is one of the toniest places in
the city; all the big-bugs come here, men whose
names on 'change at the bottom of a check are
good for a hundred thousand dollars, and it
wouldn’t do, on know, for any such customers
as that tobe pulled ’ by the police.

“They wouldn’t have such a thing happen
for a million of dollars, and although there is
very little danger of the police ever troubling
the place, for it is understood that the proprie-
tors stand in with the powers that be. and pay
a big sum weekly to a certain prominent man
in the olice department for protection, yet
they ta 6 all these precautions so as to make
their patrons feel safe.”

“ Ze idea is a good one. Pesto! it would be
ugly to be dragged to a police-station and
locked up all night in a miserable cell like a
common vagabond. With my constitution, it
would not agree at all,” the pretended French-
man remarked, with a true Gallic shrug of the
shoulders.

“ Not the slightest dan er of such a thing oc-
curring, I assure you!" ungry Joe protested.
“Why, my dear sir, I wouldn’t have such a
thing happen to me for the world!

“If the news of such a frightful accident as
that should ever travel across the water, it
would cost me a fortune, for I’ve a bachelor
uncle, worth a hundred thousand pounds and
he has promised to make me his heir— was
named after him—if I behaved myself like a
good boy; so, in England, you knOW, I am

euced particular what I am up to, but over
here, by Jove! I’m on the loose!"

By this time the two had come to a heavy
walnut door at the end of the entry.

Hungry Joe turned the gilded knob attached
3 to it, but, instead of the door opening, a little

panel, about six inches square, in the middle of
the door moved to one side, permitting the
{)ace of another well-fed colored gentleman to
e seen.

 

Hungry Joe.

The darky grinned, closed the panel, and
then distinctly to the ears of the two came the
sound of heavy bolts moving in their sockets

“You see,’ Hun ry Joe explained, “how
deuced well-manage the place is. If any hos-
tile force succeeded in getting by the first man,
here is a second door to stop them and allow
time for the birds to escape.“

“ Ze scheme is beautiful,” the Frenchman rc-
marked.

“ Oh, the men that run this place are right at
the top of the heap!”

Then the door opened, the servant bowed low
as the two passed him by, and they ascended
the stairs beyond. which were carpeted with
an expensive slug into which the foot fairly
sunk, so that their footfall did not make the
least noise.

On the floor above were three rooms, two
lar e and one small.

T 6 small room was right at the head of the
stairs and fitted up for the reception of the
visitors’ hats and cumbersome outward gar.
meats, a servant being in charge to check the
article.

Relieved of their incumbrances, the two
sauntered into the front room.

Roland Yorke had seen some finely furnished
apartments in his time, but the reams into
which his companion conducted him went
ahead of anything in his experience.

The apartments were connected by a large
archway. ‘

The front one was a most elegant parlor,
adorned with su rb furniture, costly statues
and expensive paintings.

By one of the walls stood an elaborate side-
board, upon which a sumptuous lunch was
spread, flanked by costly liquons.

A cream-colored waiter, activo as a dancing-
master, and as polite as though he expected
every visitor to resent him with a five-dollar
i bill, waited u n he guests.

“This is t e best spread in town.” Hungry
l Joe whispered to his companion. “Delmonico
‘ himself couldn’t get up a. better.

“ They say they give the cook here two hun—
dred a month and a carte blanche to get what
' he likes.

” The wines and liquors too are superb; I am
told that there isn’t a better stock in the city
, than this house has in its cellars.”

In the inner room was the farc-table,and
around it was quite a throng deeply engaged in

 

pla .

Tlie runner was quite ri ht in his statement
that the place was first-c ass in every respect,
to udge from the looks of the visitors.

here wasn‘t a rough or a scaly-looking indi-
vidual in the rooms.

Although there were about thirty gentlemen
present, and the. majority of them were well
along in ears, solid, substantial-looking men,
not the k nd at all that most people would sus-

i

 

; l
\

“Champagne and oysters, my boy i” said'

 

 

 

! poet of risking their money u u the turn of a

card. But the establishment ad the reputation
of iplaying a perfectly square me, and so the
sol (1 men who. not content w th the rise and
fall of stocks, “ hankered ” for a chance toeither
win or lose money more speedily, took a “ flyer ”
in this place.

The disguised detective had surv ed the
guests with an eagle eye, although so a illfully
did he manage it that he seemed to be simply
glancing about him out of mere'idle curiosity.

He was looking for the. man whom he had
sworn to hunt down—Bristol Bill.

And Bristol Bill was there!

The heart of Roland Yorke gave a great lea
when he discovered the outlaw, although his
impassible face betrayed no sign of the exulta-
tion which possessed him when he made the dis-
covery.

He was on the track again.

Bristol Bill was capitally disguised, and it is
doubtful if any eye but that of his desperate
and determined foe could have penetrated his
secret.

He had had a clean shave, and wore a black
wig with rather long hair; the wig came down
low on his forehead, and the hair was brushed
back behind his ears, and being dressed frtm
head to foot in black, with a white neck-tie, he
had quite a clerical look.

The complete black suit, too, made him ap—
pear much smaller than he really was, and the
alteration wrought in his face by the wig was
truly wonderful.

Bristol Bill was not playing, but stood by the
sideboard busy in conVersation with a portly,
good—looking man with a long, brOwn beard.
and the moment the disguised dettctive set
eyes upon him, he came to the conclusion that
he was one of the proprietors of the place;
there was a certain something about him
which, to the practiced eyes of the sleuth-hound
of the law, seemed to indicate he was not a
visitor.

Bristol Bill and the long—l‘earded gentleman
had surveyed the detective w ith searching eyes
when he entered the room in tow of the cappu-
in, and Yorke, who discovered them almost as
soon as they did him, saw that the critical mo-
ment was at hand.

If they, with their keen eyrs, did not pene-
trate his disguise, it was morally certain that
no one else would be able so to do, and for the
moment he felt anxious.

 

CHAPTER XIX.
A BIG GAME.

THE detective had complete confidence in his
disguise though and he did not believe that
any one, no matter h0w well-acquainted with
his person, would be able to detect his deCep-
tion.

This belief was correct, for Bristol Bill did
not recognize him, although he bestowed a
most searching glance upon him.

Two things favored the disguiSed man.

In the first place, Bristol Bill hadn’t any idea
that the detective would be able to get upon
his track so soon, for he had caused a report
that he had fiei from the city to be widel cir-
culated in all resorts where the criminal c nests

congregate, and where, as a natural result, the

police-spies sought their prey.

This was done to throw the sleuth hound 0!
his truck.

Bristol Bill fully realized that at last a man
had struck in upon his trail who threatened to
prove more dangerous than any instrument of

,‘ustice whom he .had yet encountered. and be

ad made up his mind that at any cost the
bloodhound must be removed.

He understood that it was to he a struggle for
life or death, that he must kill the man who
had set in upon the pursuit with such fiercenes.
or else the detective would certainl land him
upon the scaffold, and bold as was t is master-
sgouudrel, yet be shrunk from the hangmanand
t e rope.

Secondly, as the detective had been lured into
the place by the most skillful runner that the
city could boast, or the whole country might be
challenged to produce his equal for that mat-
ter, Bristol Bil at once fell into the error that
he was a pigeon to be uoked and never fora
moment even entertained the suspicion that
there was anything wrong about him.

The searching look that he bestowed upon the
stranger was on] for the purpose of ascertain—
ing what sort 0
for Bristol Bill had a large, though secret inter-,
est in the gambling-house.

“He looks like a foreigner,"Bristd Bill re-
marked to his com anion.

“Yea; I shouldn t be surprised if hepenued
out rich,” the other replied. ‘° That rascal of a
Hungry J09 has a scent as keen as a Maud for
a man with money in,'his pocket.

“It is a very rare thing indeed for him to
make a mistake and waste his time onamaa
not worth the flpicking up.” '

“That's a tie-loo
brown heard,” the detective remarked contest
ly to his companion. as t both happened to»
glance in the direction of t e sideboard atthe
same time. . .

prey he was likely to make, .

ing gentleman with. ‘the i z

 

 

14

The Genteel Spotter.

 

“ Yes; I have a slight acquaintance with him.
He is one of the noted men about town. His
name is Bolly Lewes and he is a regular king
among the sports of New York."

Hungry Joe felt that he was bein led upon
dangerous grouud. when the Frenc man re-
ferred to the man with the brown beard.

Boily Lewes was one of thOSe men whose re-
putation as a sport extended from Maine to
California, from the Gulf of Mi'xlcl) to the
frozen regions of the North.

That he had been in Montreal a dozrin times,
and each time made a stir in the sporting cir-
cles of the t0wn, was more than probable.

It was possible that the stranger had met him
on one of these occasions and to attempt to lie

about the man’s character might npSet the;

whole aflair.

So Hungry Joe thought that it was best to
tell the truth.

“ Ah, yes, he looks like a representative man,
although I should never have taken him fora
sport,” the detective remarked. quite. carelessly.

as though he took no particular interest in the ‘

matter.

“He is one. and a deuced fine fellow too,
over body saysi”

“ et‘s have a glass of something and then
we can try our lack,” the supposed Frenchman
suggested.

“All right, I’m agreeable.”

The two went up to the sideboard; Hungry
Joe took a glass of sherry wine, while the

Frenchman, to the delight of the runner, in- '

dulged in :1 good horn ( t' brandg’.

This was exactly what Joe li ed to see.

If a man commenced on brandy he wasa t
to stick to it, and when a man begins to gamb e
and becomes excited be generally drinks hard,
particularly if he is a new band at gaming, and
not used to the excitement.

Then the two made their way to the table.

An old gray—bearded gentleman, who looked
as if he might be the president of a National
Bank, had just lost the last of his stock of chips
as the two men approaclwd, and stood gazing for
a moment with an anxious face as the “ bank ”
raked in its gains. then smiled a sort of sickly
smile, got up, went to the sideboard, helped
himself to a whole tumbler full of brandy, took
his hat and departed.

Boliy Lewes noticed him as he went out. and
remarked to Bristol Bill:

“ That’s old General Jones, of the firm of
Jones and Jones; one of the leading broker-
houSes in Wall street.

“ He has blown into the bank here ilfty thou-
sand dollars since last month.

“Ishould not be surprisod if the firm wakes
up some morning and finds the general to be
among the missing.

“ For I reckon it's the flrm’s money that he
has been using.”

The gambler‘s words were prophetic.

Ntxt morning the general was among the
missing.

He was dead.

Going straight home from the gambling-house
he took a dose of poison, and the next day the
cit rung with the news that he was a d: fiulter
to ho tune of a hundred thousand dollars.

Such is life!

“ Huugr JOe's man is going to take the gen-
cral’s chair.” Bristol Bill remarked, “ and that
ought to bring him had luck, for I heard one of
the boys as tonight that the old man hadn’t
won a bet or a week.”

“Well. I don’t know about that,” responded
the gambler, with a dubious shake of the head.
“ The chair may be bad luck to him, and mighty
good luck to another man. ,

“ I’ve seen luck change about in just that
way a hundred times; luck is one of those slip-
pery things that a man can’t tell much about.

" I know I would much rather tackle a bank
after an unlucky Jain yer, than to take the chair
of a man who ha got up a big winner.”

And the gambler seemed right in this belief,
too, for the luck of the chair seemed to change
the moment the stranger sat down in it.

“ That man is no slouch of a gambler!" Bolly
Lewes exclaimed, as he watched the French-
man's game.

And, in fact, the detective. though young in
years, was an old hand at this sort of thing, for
when standing on the threshold of manhood he
had been infatuated with the temptations of
the green cloth, and had risked many a dollar,
and spent many an hour “bucking from the
tiger. .

And since he had weaned himself against the
fatal habit he had given much study to the

me, just for mere amusement, and had
it ought out a “ system ” which be judged would
ban tto win, if the player was at all favored
by ortune. ,v

It was simple enough.

If a certain card came out a loser three times
in succession, back it to win on the fourth, or if
it won three times, hack it to lose on the fourth.

And astha dis ised detective had plenty of
money to hack h a game, he went in boldly.

He tossed o'er ten one-hundred-dollar notes,
and requested a thousand dollars‘ worth of chips
to begin with. -

This did not excite any particular attention

because it was a _“game” not-«l it r its big
stakes.

a card was thought to be rather small potatoes,
titty-dollar bets being far more int; n it than
ones for lower sums.

A fresh deal had just commench when the
newcomer sat down at the table; he watched
the cards run for a few minutes, until the ace
had lost three time.- in succession, and then he
put the whole tt.ousand dollars on the ace to
Win.

The magnituie of this first bet caused the
rest of the players to open their eyes. for it was
not often that a man plunged in so boldly at too
beginning.

The ace won.

“The luck has changed," Ilolly Lewes re—
marked to Bristol Bill.

 

l
 whoever he is,” the other remarked.
, better 100k out or he may break your bank for
i you to night.” for that’s the kind of fellow he is,
can see plainly enough.”

I. “That would bea tough joke on Hungry Joe.”
‘ Lewes obserVed, with a quiet chuckle. “He
gets so much prAr c nt. ot what the stranger
loses as his commission for inducing the fly to
walk into the spider‘s parlor.

"Now, if the fellow breaks the bank and
strikes us for flitv thousand dollars. can’t we
i come down upon Joe for a percentage on that
I sun? It’s a poor rule that won’t work both
way 9. you know.”

“When you get it out of Joe. 'on can put it
in your eye and see clear,” Bristo Bill replied.

be game continued.

The stranger bet more and more heavi‘y, and
he seldom lost.

The stack of chips at his elbow grew to mam- i

moth proportions.
At two o‘clock he had won ten thousand dol—
lars.

 

CHAPTER XX.
ANOTHER PLOT.
HUNGRY Jon was dumfounoed by the aston-
ishing luck of the stranger.

anticipated.

|
l Events had not transpired at all as he had

i
where the money could be taken from him, his
, share would amount to in small fortune.

The man who only ventured ten dollars upon I,

Not that Hungry Joe had any idea of trying

‘ to rob the stranger himself.

Robbery from the person was altogether out
of his line. He hadn’t the pluck for any bold

' operation of that kind.

He was emphatically a chicken-hearted scoun-
drel, otherwise he would have been a rich man
long ago.

But the Frenchman was himself prl‘purirg h,

I walk into the snare which would ccrtuinly cost

him his money, if not his life.
The pro osition oi' the successful gambler to
go somew ere and have a supper WIiS'XHPtly

; what Hungry Joe would have suggesled if the

“He’sa bold fellow and plays a big game. ,
“You had ‘

 

 

He had lured the Frenchman liil’i the gam- ,
'bling-house, expecting that he would lose all :

the money that he had about him. and this was

p‘tid him a liberal percentage on the amount of
money lost bv any victim whom he was lucky
enough to entice into the place.

And in this case, Hungry Joe felt as sure of
fingering his little percentage on the five thou-
sand, or more, dollars. that the stranger had
carelessly announced he possessed, as though
the money were already in his pocket.

But then the runner had taken the French-
man to be a greenhorn in gambling matters
and as a general rule it isn’t once a. hundred
times that a man who is not a practical and
scientific gambler succeeds in making a big
stake at faro, for even if the game be fairly
dealt the percentage of advantage is so much in
favor of the ban that if luck runs at all
even the better must come out a loser in the
long run.

But in just about twenty minutes after the
Frenchman commenced playing Hungr ' Joe‘s
eyes were opened, and be realized that e had
picked up about on skillful a gambler as he had
over struck in his life, and what Hungry J0e
didn’t know about gambling and gamblers
wasn't worth knowing.

And the man was an amateur, too; no ro-
fessional player who made a living by fol ow—
ing the business, but one who merely played for
amusement.

Was indifferent whether he won or lost;
played as cnolly as though he were only staking
cents instead of dollars, and eviden‘ly closely
alculated all possible chances before he made a

t.

“Just my luck." muttered Hungry Joe, in
huge disgust. “Pick up a greenborn, bring
him hereto blow in his ieetie five or six thou-
sand ‘cases,’ and then have to stand by and
watch him skin the bank.

“Blamed if I don’t believo he’ll break the
cussid thing before he gets through."

But Hungry Joe was wrong in this surmise.

The successful player was clearly not cov-
etora of lucre, for after reaching the point an-
nounced in our last chapter, he looked up at the
runner. who was bending over his chair, and
remarked:

“I’m getting tired of this sort of thing. and
I begin to feel as hunger gnawing at my Vitals.

“I’ll cash in my cheeks and we’ll go and
have,a nice supper somewhere, oh, what do you

3?

“With all my heart!” Hungry J‘a replied,
suddenl becoming remarkably cheerfuL

The t Hg was going to turn out bettér than
be expect .

The stranger was a far richer prize now
tliian when Hungry Joe had first encountered
h m.

In addition to his own money. he had the
wealth he had won from the bank. and if t :e
runner could succeed in getting him into a trap

 

where the capper “came in.” as the “bank” ‘

 

stranger had not.

The runner knew a nice, quiet plat-é where a
splendid supper could lie tnjoyed at any hour
and at the shortest notice, but no men, though,
who had ever paid for a supper in this spider’s
den, cared to task the hospitality of the place a
second time, for the meal alwa s cost them
everything of_ value that they ad on their
persons, and in some ones, where the man
was inclined to be troublesome and the. prospect
for booty was good, the life of the guest was
exacted.

The only thing that troubled Hungry Joe was
whether he would succeed in finding the in-
mates of this modern Borgia palace at home or
not.

He had heard a report that very afternoon
that the master-spirit of the place had been so
closely pushed by the detectives as to be obliged
to make himself scarce, and be was afraid that
this untoward event might interfere with the
working of the machinery of the institution.

The Frenchman turned his cheeks into morey,
the cashier counting out the bills with the at—
most respect, for such a customer as this was
not to be seen every day, even in this high-toned

1 place where big p ay was the rule and not the

exception.

The winner stuffed the bank-notes into his
pockets with the utmost indifference.

if they had been advertising shop-bills instead
of bank—notes worth from ten to a hundred dol-
lars apiece, he could not have been more care—
ii‘sls; with them. d

he other layers ma e we res tfull for
him as he le¥t the table and jfiinedpliigs comypau-
ion.

"Now then, we’ll take a arting drink, just
to wish as house luck, and t en for as good a
supper as money can buy, that is. if you know
aplace where we can get one at this hour," the
successful gambler observed.

“ Oh, yes, a nice little quiet. place, near here,
too. a couple of blocks down Broad wav. Thrre’s
a first-class drinking-saloon on the first floor.
and over it are private supper rorms; the cook
is as gooda one as you can find in the city.
Delmonico has no better, and the larder is al-
ways su lied with all the delicacies of the
season,” ungry Joe replied.

“it is a regular sporting~house, you see, and
is only patronized by men w ho know a good
thing when they see it, and are willing to pay
the topmost price for it.”

“ That is no place for us!" the Frenchman ex—
claimed, evidently in high spirits.

“ Come, we'll take a good glass rf brandy and
drink good luck to 29 house, and the-n we will be
00'.”

The two advanced to the sideboard, and the
obsequious waiter hastened to fill out i he brand 3'.

Nothing succeeds like success, and even the
negro was impressed with an immense. degree
of respect for the man who could are the
tiger’s claws as neat] as the stran cr iad done
since he had ventu into the jung e where the
wild beast held his court.

Bolly Lewes and Bristol Bill had watched the
stranger's play with the utmost attention.

Few words passed between them until the
successful gambler arose, and then the proprio-
tor of the gaming-hell drew a long breath, in—
dicative of much relief.

“Thank Heaven the fellow has quit!” be ex—
claimed, in an undertone, to his com nion.

“If he had kept on. and his luck ad contin—
ued in another hour he would have broken the
bank, and that is an event that has never hap-
pened since I opened the doors of this house, al«
though it has come pretty near it half a denim
times.”

“ He's going to get away with a good deal of
money.” Bristol ill remarked, a peculiar look
upon his face, as if he was revolving something
important in his mind.

“ Yes but I’m not sorry to get rid of him. at
though he has skinned the bank of a month‘s
profit.” v

“ Well, are you going to let him get away
with the cashi” Bristol Bill asked, meanin ly.

The gambler was quick to comprehendg, and
he shook his head.

“Oh, no. Bristol, I’m not on that lay,” he re-
plied. “ Every man to his trade-running a
taro-bank is mine. and that is the only business
1 propose to follow at present.

” The ones has got t a money and be will get
awn? with it. too, for all of me.

“ reckon I’ll have to take a band in the
game, then,” Bristol Bill remarked, with ovi-

.,. .

-- .s.

 

«We’d, www.3an 3.“ <a‘);“ «1,4 4% a.» ~51)...“

 

 

dent determination. “Fifteen or sixteen thou-
sand dollars don’t grow on every bush, and as
l’vo an idea. that it will not he an extremely
difficult job to secure the cash 1 propose to go in
for it.”

The gambler shook his head. _

“What’s the matter with you!“ the other
asked. “Don't you think the trick can be
worked? Don’t you see how Hungry Joe is
sticking to him? He has evidently made up his
mind that there‘s a chance to get at the
boodle."

" Well, I know the thing looks feasible

enough, and the money is a ig stake,” Bolly
Lewes answered. “But ifyou’ll take my ad-
vice you’ll let the man, alone. His luck to night
is running so strong that I reckon everybody
had better steer clear of him. There’s some-
thing about the man that impresses me with the
belief he’s a dangerous fellow."
“Bah! that’s only your gambler supersti-
tion!" sneered Bristo Bill. “Hungry J06
hasn’t recognized me yet in this get-up, which
proves it must be a mighty good one. I’ll jiist
give him the ‘ofllce,’ and if he wants me to
come into the game, you can bet all your wealth
I’m going.”

Then Bristol Bill took advantage of the fact
that the Frenchman had turned his back to him
in raising his glass to his lips, to make an almost
im rCeptible sign to Hungry Joe.

ho runner returned it immediawa and an
ex ression of satisfaction appeared on his face.

he sign had revealed to him that the cler-
ical-looking stranger was Bristol Bill, and Bris-
tol Bill was the man he wanted, the proprietor

‘of the “ Private Supper Rooms.”

 

CHAPTER XXI.
m ran sauna.

WHEN the glasses were drained, the French-
man drew a handful of money from his

cket, selected a ten-dollar bill and presented
Ftnto the astonished negro, whose breath was
fairlv taken away by this generous tip.

“ ’ank ye, sah; much 0 liged, sah." the ser-
Vant managed to stammer in a moment.

Then Hungry Joe seized upon the opportunity
to reveal to Bristol Bill the design which he
had formed.

“ It‘s only a short walk- «a couple of blocks
off, and I’ll guarantee that they'll get you up as
good a supper in half an hour’s time as can be

rocured in New York from the B'iilery to
igh Bridge,” he said, in a tone sufficiently
loud to reach the ears of Bristol Bill.

“ You see ” the desperado remarked to the
gambler, " Hungry Joe is steering the ‘ sncker.’
strai ht for my place. I'll bet on a hundred to
ten t at I skin him before day reak."

“ If you‘ll take my advice you’ll let him
alone,” Boll Lewes re lied. “I wouldn't
tackle the £91 0w with th 5 run of luck on him
for a million dollan.

“ Look out that he don’t slip over the traces
in some way and ut a ball through you.”

“1’” risk it,”. ristoi Bill replied, carelessly,
and then he followed Hungry on and his com-
panion, who by this time were out of the
room.

The disguised detective, who was playing the
role of the Frenchman so well, perfectly under-
stood what Hungry Jo: was up to when he
made the remark which was to warn Bristol
Bill that a “sucker "—as the thieves termed all
victims—was to be conducted to his den.

The detective knew the s rting-house, too.
and although in the minds o the police it was
not certain that Bristol Bill was connected with
the place yet they were aware he often used it
for a hen - uarters.

Hun ry oe-after he and his companion
reachc the street—was loud in praise of the
masterly manner in which the Frenchman had
triumphed over the faro game.

“ B Jove!" he cried, “I never saw anythin
like t. You understand fare for all it is
worth!” .

“Oh, as, I’ve made a practice of playing for
years, a though generally in a ma l way, but
the humor seized mo to-night to see what I
could do with a big game.”

“ Well, you have no reason to com lain.”

“Oh. no; if the bank is satisfied, am,” and
then they both Ian lied heartily at the joke.

Just at this pain Hungr Joe discovered that
ho had a con in of choice c pars in his pocket.

“Danced no imported allows. you know,”
ha explained. “I have a friend in the custom-
houso who supplies me."

Then they ad to stop while Hungry Joe
hunted in his kets for a match, and it took
him a couple 0‘ minutes to find his matchcase.
Then the cigars were lighted and they resumed
their walk.

This maneuvt-r was to "Bristol Bill time
to got ahead of them a roach the sporting.
house before they arrived there. ”

And the disguised dotoctivo understood this
for his koon eyes detected Bristol
Bill anyiag noiselesst along on the other side

But the leagnod scoundrsls were not the only
our who were up to secret games that night.
As *0 two passed along Broadway, just be-

 

The HG-enteelrfipotter. 7

fore they reachirl the sporting-house. which  pals, and Hungry Joe knew he could depend

was apparently closed for the night, for there
wasn’t a gleam of light visible about the place,
a seedy-looking man, with an unshavm face
and a general appearance of having slept in
the gutter for a night or two, came up to the
genitlemen, and with a strong English accent
sai :

“ Will either of you two gents have the kind-
ness to oblige mo with a nickel? I want a drink
so bad that my throat feels like an has’-’<~ap,
’pon my soul !”

l
l

“ Here’s a ten for you,” and the, Frenchman j
threw the man a crumpled bill, which he caught ,

with the utmost eagerness. “ Now be off, and
get drunk as soon as you like.”

“ Strike me blind if I don’t!" cried the folio“
as he swaggered off, evidently overjoyed at the
windfall which had come so unexpectedly.

Hungry Joe looked after the man with a
troubled expression upon his face.

The features of the man seemed to be familiar
to him, and yet he could not place him.

“ Can that fellow be a detective in disguise?”
he murmured under his breath.

Hungry Joe was ever on the watch and about
as easy an alarmed rascal as there was in the
city.

“ An 'how, I don’t see how he could smoke my
game i he was,” he mused.

And then he came to the conclusion he had
allowed his imagination to get the better of his
judgment, and that he had no cause to be alarm-
ed about the man whether he was a detective or
the homeless wanderer he appeared.

“ The place seems to be closed," the French-
man remarked.

“ Oh, that is all right; that’s done to keep
away undesirable customers who might be in-
clined to kick up a row. '

“The place is very exclusive after midnight,
and they will not give admittance to cvery
Tom, Dick and Harry.”

Then Hungry Joe pulled the bell.

In a moment or too a servant appeared.

“ My friend and I want to get a little sup r,”
Hungry Joe said, nodding to the s—rvant li c an
old ac uaintance.

“ Al right, sir; I guess we can accommodate
you," and the man made Way for them to enter.
“ What would you like, gentlemen i” he asked,
as he closed the door.

“ Any articular dishes you would prefer?”
Hungry oe asked of his companion.

“ Oh, no; I’ll leave that to the cook,” the
Frenchman replied, in his lordly way. “ Tell
him that a couple of gentlemen desire a light
supper; they want the best in the house without
regard to price, and they will leave the selection
of he viands to his good judgment.”

“Yes, sir; I’ll tell him. He’ll fix you up all
right, gentlemen,” the man replied, evidently
impressed by the manner of the Frenchman.

‘ And while the cock is tting the supper
ready, seudusu a bottle 0 the best wine in
the place,” said angry J oe.

“ Yes, sir; turn to the left at the head of the
stairs. gentlemen, and take the front room.”

“ All right.” I

Up the stairs the two went, while the servant
sought the lower re ions.

Hungry Joe led t a way into the front apart-
meat.

It was a good-sized room, connected by large
doors with the apartment in the tour, which
was a room of the same size, but fitted up as a
sleeping-apartment.

And the bed in the room was a wonderful
affair, being one of the oldéfashioned kind with
liu e posts, and a canopy resting on the posts,
and extending allover the bed. '

“ if a fellow became sleepy, or got too much
liquor on board, that bed would comeiu handy,”
the Frenchman observed.

“It is at our service, if We need it,” Hungry
J on replied.

The a was burning bright] in the room,
but as t a windows wore cover by heavy cur-
tains and the blinds without closed, no rays of
light escaped into the street.

The front room was comfortably furnished, a
table being in its center, some easy-chairs seal-
terilsld about. and a sofa placed against the
wa .

The dis sed detective made a careful in-
sipectlon o the furniture without appearing to

0 so.

He was on the lookout for another arm-chair
with secret springs like the one that had sump-
ped him before.

“ Once caught, twice shy,” sa 3 the old
adage, and as the Genteel Spotter ad experi-
enced the efl'ects produced by Bristol Bill’s in-
fernal ingenuity, he was on the alert not to be
snared a second time.

Thorsten, when he sat down, be selected a
plain chair, so there wasn’t any possibilii y of a
trick being worked.

Hungry Joe helped himselfto the most com-
fortsblo rocking-chair in the room. and as ho
sit down there was an expression of great sat-
isfaction upon his countenance.

Already, in his mind's eye, ha was sharing

spoils which be regarded as being sure to he

gathered in.
Bristol Bill was a generous fellow with his

 

 

upon a liberal share.

The servant brought in the nine, carefully
boxed in ice, and a couple of glas‘Ses—the wide-
bowled, slender-stemmed champagne glasses.

He placed the glasses upon a. small table,
which stood by the door, while he opened the
wme. *

The detective understood why the man put
the glasses upon the small table instead of
bringing them to the one in the center of the
apartment by which the two sat, for he had
that wonderful faculty, so important to a po-
lice spy, of seeing everything without appear-
ing to see anything.

In the slender stem of one of the glasses was
an almost colorless liquid.

This was a drug, and that glass was intended
for him.

Already he thought he knew the way the
trick was to be worked. The drugged wine
would make him sleepy, his com anion would
press him to lie down upon the , then, when
drowsiness overtook him, he would fall an easy
PTPY-

Now it was his game to appear to be drugged
so as to induce Bristol Bill to show himself, but
he wanted to dispose of his companion, for he
would be in the way of the scheme which he in-
tended to try and bv means of which he hoped
to entrap Bristol Bill.

CHAPTER XX ll.
ran raarrsn ENTRAPPED.

it was a difficult matter to accomplish, but
Roland Yorke was equal to the emergen .

The game of the scoundrels was to “ area”
the drugged glass of wine upon him, as the
jugglers 0 when they request one of the audi-
ence to select a card from the pack which they
ofler and then so adroitly arraa e that the
chooser, while thinking he is ma ng a free
choice, takes the very card which it was in-
tended he should select.

The waiter brought the tray containing the

two lasses, one on each end of the tray, and
plac it on the table between the two gentle-
men.

Of course it was but natural that each man
should take the glass nearest to him, and the
disguised detective understood perfectly well
that the glass next to him was the one that con-
tained the drug.

He had made up his mind. though, that Hun—
gry Joe should try the effect of the drug, and
had thought of a plan to effect it.

Both 0 them had risen when the servant ap-
proached, and the disguised detective had quiet y
taken out a whole handful of the'crumplcd hills
which be had socarelessly stuffed into his pocket,
and as the waiter put the glasses on the table he '

Said:

“Good boy! here’s a trifle for you!”

Then opening his hand, “accidentally” he
allowed half a dozen of the bills to fall upon the
floor.

Both Hungry Joe and the waiter dove down
for them immediately, and as they did so. with
lightning-like rapidity the detective changed
the glasses, putting the drugged one next to
Hungry Joe.

The two picked up the scattered notes and
returned them to the disguised detective, who
presented the waiter with a flvedollar bill,
and also asked Hungry Joe if he didn’t want a
loan.

But Joe said no with a lordly air, and the
waiter retired, loud in thanks.

No wonder that both were satisfied.

The waiter had captured a ten-dollar note on
the floor, while Joe had secured a twenty.

And it was with the idea of making a capture
of this kind that the two had been so eager to
pick up the bills.

They had succeeded, but ruined the plans «.f
their master by the operation.

“Well, bores your health, my friend!” ex-
claimed the Frenchman, with joyous accent,
helping himself to the glass nearest to him, a
fact which Hungry Jon noticed with a great
dual of satisfaction.

The confidence man took the other glass, the
two pledged each other and the champagne dis-
ap cared.

he Frenchman caught up the bottle immo-
diately and refilled the glance. '

“Como another, my friend: this is life!" I.
cried, at the same time began to roll his
eyes and assume a stupid expression as if the
drug was beginning to produce an sheet upon

him.

Hungry Jon noticed this with delight, and at
the same time wondered why on earth it was
champagno had made
him feel an internally 

Jove!” he not to him “can it
be bin that tho dcuccd idiot madoamflah
a Eat the drug in both of the losses!

" a‘s flxod all right, but 1 oelasif I was,

too.

“Ika in antimalariqu
him on the man] in tho signal that ovary-
thin in 0. K." ‘

“ can‘t hoop my eyes open,” rumoured tho

16

The genteel §potter.

 

 

disguised detective, after he had swallowed the
second glass of wine, affecting to be almost
overcome.

“ 1 must lie down for a while—wake me when
the supper comes.”

And then he staggered to the bed, stretched
himself upon it with his face upward and pre-
tended to fall immediately into a dee sleep.

Haingr
table a

hold of l'he front upright post at the foot of the
bad and pressed a small knob which was con-
cealed In it.

“ Blessed if I ain’t done for," he muttered,
vacanily, and then he sunk down in a stupor on
the floor.

Roland Yorke had watched him with an ea-

ger cage.

“ has given the signal that the victim is
in the toils, evidently,’ he murmured; “ and
now for the star actor in this thrilling drama!
Bristol Bill will soon make his a pearance, I
mpp use. and when he does come I'l give him a
reception so warm that he will be astonished."

Tue detective drew his revo’ver from the se-
cret pocket where he always ke t it concealed
and held it in his hand ready or action, still
lying on the bed as motionless as a statue, the
pie el cencealed by his person so that until any
one came close to him it would have been an
utter impossibility to have detected that he was
onlfly snammiug.

e kept his eyes on the door, ex tin each
instant tosee it open and Bristol ill ma a his
a arance.

e understood well enoth that the supper
was all sham, and the p ace nothing but a
thieves’ den.

The minutes flew by.

Hungry Joe, com etely stupefled by the dose
which he had unwit lngl taken, lay on the floor
at the foot of the bed, al in a heap.

“ What does it mean! Why don’t the scoun-
drel come to complete his villainous work!” the
detectiVe queried.

And then, all of a sudden, he madea dis-,

covery which for a moment filled him with hor-
ror, iron-hearted sleuth-hound though he was.
The top of the bed was descending.
Sl nwly but surely the heavy canopy, with its
padded surface, was coming down, worked by
mauled machinery in the posts, to meet the

It was a third of the way down before the de-
tective discovered that it was movin .

He watched it for a few momeu to make
sure that it was not an optical delusion, and
then got off the bed with surprising ra idity.

All the details of the murderous pan were
now plain to him, and as this was his second ex.
parience with a thing! of this kind, the convic-
tion was forced upon him that Bristol Bill must
have the heart of a fiend. '

The unconscious victim, after being drugged,
was laced upon the bed, and the padded canopy
mot and the life out of him without leaving
anv outward marks of violence.

1'. was truly an infernal machine!

The top descended until it came within six
inc-:as of the bed and then it missed.

A sleeper with his head im ed in a pillow
mast surely would have been strangled.

No further movement took place for a good
ten minutes, and the detective wondered what
was to be the next move in the game, and then
it suddenly occurred to him that as Bun ry
Joe had been left on the watch, it was probe ly
his duty, when he thou ht the frightful instru-
ment had done its to erous work, to signal by-
means of the spring in the bed-poet to the man
who had set the machinery in motion.

“ Then Bristol Bill will probabl make his sp-

rancc, and as I am anxious or achance to
nterviaw that gentleman I’ll give the signal,”
‘ he murmured.

This was no sooner said than done.

And it was as he had expected: almost imme-
diately the bad-top commenced to ascend, mov-
ing with the regularity of clock-work, to its
usual place.

“ If ever there was a scoundrel since this
world he an who richly deserved to feel the
squeeze o the hangman’s hem n necktie, sure-

) Bristol Bill is the men P' land Yorke ex-
claimed,” he looked up In the pillows crushed
by the power of this infernal machine.

A?“ new asudden idea occurred to the de-
tect ve.

IMtin Hun r_v Joe from his recumbent po-
sition lse'placull him on the bed, turning his face
to the wall,

“ He’s in dark clothes, like myself, and at the
first glance Bristol will be sure to take him
for me," he observed, “ while if he saw that
the bed was empty when he came in at the door
it would surely excite his suspicious, and it

might render me 10b of securing him a difiicnlt

one.

“ But if I can take him by surprise I can fix
him with a single blow.”

This was shrede

on club-like wen n which originally local to
Ph adelphia, is ca led a black-jack.
He took up a position behind. the heavy cer-

Joe rose, steadied himsef by the,
watched until the Frenchman was on ‘
the bed' then he staggered to the bed, caught ‘

thought, and he showd his
revolver back in h a pocket and drew out the

,' tains of the window in the front room: next to
the door which gave entrance to the apartment.
i Hardly was be than completely concealed
' when he heard cat- like steps approaching
through the entry).
Grasping the lack-jack firmly and nerving
every muscle for the struggle the detective
braced himself for the attack.
The door opened and Bristol Bill appeared.
From behind the curtains, peeping out, the
detective could distinctly see him.
Bristol Bill clased the door carefully behind
him and then looked at the bed.
“ Ohol we’ve cooked the goose of our gentle-
man without any trouble!” he cried, in savage

lee.

“ No .‘ for the plunder!

'_‘_ ‘.'.’ cere are you, Joe '6"

.Ie advanced half a doz-v-n steps into the room,
wondering where his confederate had got to.
The detective glided from behind the curtain
j and with a single wicked blow on the head
1 failed the roman as if he had been shot

Then hurrying to the window Yorke threw it

open and gave a loud, shrill whistle.

Ten detectives ap cared in the street as and-
denly as if they be sprang from the stones,
and n a twinkling they battered in the door of
the house.

Bristol Bill and his fortress alike were taken.

In

 

CHAPTER XXIII.
rm: LOST woman.

Nuvnn was there a surprise more complete.

The house was occupied by the detectives al~
most before the inmates were aware that any-
thing was wrong.

Five well~known criminals, besides Bristol
Bill and Hungry Joe, were among the prison-
ers, and each and every one of them was
“ wanted ” b the police authorities.

Bristol Bi l’s rage when he recovered his
senses—for the detective had stunned him with
his well-aimed blow—was intense.

 

’ He rose to a sitting posture on the floor, looked

at the handcuffs upon his wrists—the detective
had taken the precaution to snap the bracelets
u n the ruman at the first opportunity—then
g anced at the detective, whom he had not yet
recognised in his disguise, and broke forth in a
torrent of curses.

“ Don’t swear, old man,” remarked the tri—
umphant detective, “ for if you do you will not
catch any fish.”

“ And you—you are the man whom I am to
thank for this!” Bristol Bill cried, terribly en-
raged at the coolness of the other.

‘ Yes, I guess I‘m the man."
d “ I’ll have your heart’s blood one of these
a s.

‘X You said that before, but you haven’t suc-
ceeded in doing the trick, the detective replied,
" although I suppose I would have had a pretty
narrow squeeze to-ni ht if I hadn’t been on the
lookout for you, an walked into the trap on

urpoee to burst up the whole concern.”

Bristol Bill was puzzled he could rot under-
stand how his capture had been bro ht about.

The servant had said that every ing was
working beautifully—the “sucker ” had taken
the drugged lass of wine and inside of ten
minutes his li a and valuables would be at the
mercy of the thieVes, who did not hesitate to
add murder to robbery when the booty seemed
rich enough to warrant it.

He had received the pro r signal for start-
ing the death-dealing mach nery of the fearful
bed, and after the usual interval the second sig-
nal, which sitvnilled the murder was accom-
plished; and ow any one but Hungry Joe
could have given these signals he could not un~
derstand.

By this time the detectives had placed a air
of haudcufls upon the confidence man, and, ug-

thinking him to be asleep.

“ Oh, it’s no use of your botherin with him,”
the Genteel Spotter observed. “ e’s good for
six or eight hours yet. I guess.

” Bill, here, can tell.”

And then he turned to the prisoner.

“ I say, Bristol, how strong a dose was itcthat
you put into the wine glass!”

For the first time the master-roman began to
have an idea of how it was that lie plans had
failed so signally.

“You see. Bristol, I tumbled to your little
game right from the beginning," the detective
remarked. “I let Hungry Joe pick me up on
purpose to lead me to you.

"I knew that he was one of your right—hand
men, and I felt pretty certain that if I displayed
a large amount of money, he would be sure to
try to entrap me into some den over which you
presided, and aogive me a chance to nail you
right at your work.”

" in the fisnd‘s name who are you!” cried the
healed dcsperado.

Thedeteotive removed his wig, and the star-
tled ruflan cried: ,

“ The City Thoroughbred 2"

“Yes, that is the name you Mower! upon
me when first we met, and I really believeit is
goin to stick.” .

Br el Bill was not now in disguise. He had

 

l

 

 

ging him of! the bed, attempted to wake him, 1

 

how thoroughlv I don ised him and all

threwn it aside, so that all the detcciiVes, to
whom he was well known, did not hare the
slightest difilculty in recognizing him.

Again a perfect torrent of fearful caths poured
from the lips of the captured desperado.

“ Don’t waste your breath I” exclaimed the
victor, contemptuously.

“Remember the old Arab proverb, ‘ Curses
are like young chickens and always come home
to roost. ’

“Oh I’ll be even with you is me day for
this!” Bristol Bill cried, fiercely. “I’ll make
you repent in tears of blood the moment when
you first crossed my path."

“Exactly; P“ be there when that happens,”
the other re lied, coolly.

“ But we vs had talk enough. Away with
your prisoners, boys!”

The officers took up their line of march.

The due processes of law were gone through

and then for safe-keeping all the prisoners
against whom serious char es were pending
werle transferred to the Tomgbs, there to await
tria .
But Bristol Bill had more powerful friends
than the authorities gave him credit for —
sessing, for in some mysterious manner 1%
contrived to smuggle tools to him, and one
dark night he took French leave of his jailers
despite the vigilance with which he was watch-
ed, and managed to escape from the prison.

Without the walls, though, he chanced to en—
counter one of the keepers who had been absent
from the prison on business.

The keeper recognised Bristol Bill and en~
deavored to detain him, but the riscner had
been provided with arms as wel as tools, so
with a single slash of a keen-edged knife he laid
the prison ofllcial bleedin upon the ground and
then fled through the dar case.

He was not recaptured, although the whole
fility was scoured by the detectives in search of

m.

The affair excited great interest, and a heavy
reward was offered for his capture.

“ I‘ll have him in time,” said Roland Yorke,
confidently, when questioned by the chief of
police in regard to the probabilities of the des-
perado being taken.

And the City Thoroughbred determined to
geave no stone unturned to acccmpllsh this ob-

ect.

But while he was busy with his plans to re—
capture the criminal he received a call that as-
tonhbed him.

It was a lady and she said her name w as Rosa-
moni Kendrickaon.

“I come to you on behalf of Bristol Bill,” she
said, as soon as the youn man had sufficient'y
recovered from the aston shment which her no-
expected appearance produced, to ask her busi-

cars.

The detective had seen the Picture of t e lady
taken when she was a air of eighteen and
thoggh she had greatly changed, being now a
fad , old-looking woman, as though she had
seen hard times and suffered much, yet still the
resemblance was strong enough for Yorke to
believe she was the person whose name she

ave.
E “On behalf of Bristol Bill!” asked the detec-
tiVe. rplexed.

“ es, i understand that it is on my account
that on have pursued him with such relentleis
feroc ty.”

“ Yes, it is on your account, for my father on
hi. death-bed made me promise to hunt the vil-
lain down on account of the wrong which be
bid done you years ago.”

“ Bristo Bill never wronged me,” the woman
answered, tartly, “but on the contrsr he has
been the best and truest friend to me I t ever
a woman had i”

“ You astound mel” exclaimed Yorke, who
could hardly believe the cvlderco of his own
ears. .

“ It is the truth; I knew °Xerfectly well what
I was doing when I allow him to engage my
affection.

“It Is true be deceived me in regard to his
position in the world, but I deceived him even
more grossly in regard to mine, so, as far as
that goes, the honors were easy. \

u an? when my parents drove me from their
home, went to h In and he gladl uceived
mewitu open arms, and for years, despite the
mawhich he has been obliged to lead. he has
been to me all that a men could be to a woman.

" Then we quarreled—my fault, for l deceived

him and we parted.
“The man, for whose sake I forsook Bill.
team“: 3005?: be tshbehvllest oktind of a seoandrvl
an I , a r ro me ave thin that I
had in the world. ‘ r, ‘

“In utter de ir and not caring to live I
sought to die an Bristol Bill saved me, just by
aeckient. ,

“ Be forgave me, and I am asxious to help
him as he is in trouble.

“It you pursue Bristol Bill on my account 1
want van to stop. Your promise to your father
need n‘t stand in the way. If ha'hsd animown

t -
longed to him he won d never have 
head about me or my affairs.

The detective leaned back in his chair and

 

 

The genteel Spotter.

 

 

surveyed the face of the woman for a moment
in silence.

Was it possible. he asked himself, that this
was the woman whom his father secretly adored
even to his dying day? .

It did not seem possible. and for this creature,
who seemed to glor in her intimacy with the
desperado, he had r sired his life so freely.

“Madam,” he said, “ I entered into t is pur-
suit on your account, but now I must keep it up
on my own.

“Bristol Bill is a human wolf who ought to
be hunted down, and I for one will never give
u the chase until I again snap the bracelets on
b s wrists.” .

The woman rose in anger.

“That you will never do!" she cried. “ He
is out of the country—safe from pursuit. I but
pleaded with you that he might return, but you
are like all your race, savage and merciless?

And then she departed.

“She lies!" exclaimed the young man “ he is
in this country, and she is sorely afraid that I
will trap him, and I will too, but it will be no
easy job. Proteus-like I must transform myself
into somebody else."

 

CHAPTER XXIV.
ma 'rvcooa.

Aim now we must introduce the reader to a.
personage who is destined to play an important
part in this our “ ower tine tale.

Bauntering down Broadway, on the shady
side, at the fashionable hour a the afternoon
when New York’s great artery is always well
filled with peo le, was a tall, well-made, gentle-
manly appea ng felloW.

A man of thirty eight or forty apparently
although he was one of those well-preserved
mortals whose age it is so hard to guess.

His lace was rather long, swarthy in hue,
with high cheek-bones and jet-black eyes, orna-
mented with a long curling mustacie and a
bush imperial which gave him a decidedly for-

ei n ook.

file was dressed in the hight of fashion, sported
a costly diamond cluster ring upon the little
finger of his right hand, and in the elaborate
scarf which hid his snowy shirt bosom front
shone a regular ‘head-light’pin whose value
could not be less than a cool thousand in hard
cash.

After a careful inspection, the most experi-

. enced man of the World—the careful student of

human nature, would certainly haVe set this
elegant gentleman down as being of consider-
able importance, as the world goes.

And so he was, and yet not in the way that
the best man judge would have imagined.

He stood at the very head of his fraternity,
and embraced among his intimate ac naint—
ances, about all the prominent police ( vials
and detectives in the country.

He was a rascal of the first water.

No mere petty. common scoundrel, but a
very princa of scumps.

In the old days when thieves were all banded
in one fraternity he Would have stood an excel-
lent chance of being the king of the ang.

He was known as Tom Kellish; w ether that
was his realappellation or not no one knew, but
that was the name that he had alwa s borne
since he had arrived in the “land 0 the free
and home of the brave," some twenty years be-
fore the time of which we write.

He was not a roduct of the rolific soil of
the New World, at a transpian from efi'ete,
played-out Europe, as the stump demagogue is

0nd of tarming the land across the sea.

A man who had “ left his countiy for his
country‘s cod,” and danced glad the police uu-
thorities 0 En land and the continent had been
to get rid of h m, for hardly a rascal was there
who flourished in Kellish’s time who had given
the officials as much trouble.

.He was a mas-fer rascal if ever there was
one, and since he had taken up his _quarters in
the New World he had prospered like a green
ba

v tree. _

Our soil and climate is congenial to the
growth of first-class men, whether they be hon-
est or otherwise.

Kelllsh stood at the very head of the opera-
tors in his line, and during the twenty. years
that he had prewa upon the public,1ivmg by
his wits upon the mom-y of other *ople, no
jailer had ever turned the key upon in) for a
term of im sonment.

True, be ad been arrested on she icion more
times than he had fingers and toes, ut the au-
thorities had never been able to make out a
case against him, althou h at a dozen different
times the evidence wh ch they had accumu—
lated seemed conclusive as to h s guilt, but he
always managed to wriggle out of it in some
way.

Being a prudent man, and neither agamester
nor addicted to excessive drinking, like the ma-
jority of his clam, he always ad plenty of
money, and, say what you will, mono «is the

most effective thing that has yet been iscover-
sd to either accelerate or retard the progress of
' the wheels of justice.

Kellish was one of the men who went in for
big hauls.

_todouit

 

A hundred or two of dollars wasn‘t of any
account to him.

He turned up his nose at such altry lunder.

.An thing under five or ten t ousang be de-
spise .

He was technically known as a “ bank 0 ra-
ter,” though sometimes he figured a litt e in
the confidence line, but always on a large scale.

The record of the big jobs which he was sup-
posed to have engineered would have filled a
good~sized volume.

He was generally believed to be the man that
gated the trick so neatly on the Washington

n .

Walking in, right in the busiest part of the
day, he engaged the paying-teller in conversa-
tion, and a confederate, who had followed
quietl at his heels, slipped of! his hat, cor:-
ceale it under his coat, puta pen behind his
ear, proceeded behind the counter. just as if he
was one of the bank clerks, and helped himself
to a ckage of ten thousand dollars just by
the te ler’s elbow; then the two managed to
escape with the booty without suspicion being
excited.

Kellish was identified and hauled up, but as
it was im ossible to prove that he had anything

the actua stealing of the money, the
authorities were forced to re ease him.

Of course, there wasn‘t the slightest doubt in
the minds of the police officials, and the parties
interested, that he was the mun who put up the
job, and so the bank men, after their failure to
fasten the robbery upon him, attempted tocom-
promise the matter, unplug to get back a part
of the stolen funds at least.

But Kellish laughed at the idea.

“ Why, what kind of an idiot do you fellows
take me for?" he demanded. ” if I was the
man that put up the job, do you suppose, after
getting away with the money, which can no
more be traced than a bucket of water cast into
the river, I would be fool enough to surrender
any of it?

“Honestly, [don’t know anything about it,
because I didn’t plan the job or get any of the
bundle; but if I did, nary cent would I surren-

er.

On another occasion he did a trick so hold
that it made the whole country ring.

He went into a bank in a country town in
Georgia, right in the heart of the cotton season,
when Northern meney had gone down to move
the Southern crops. at the noon hour, selecting
a time when the clerks had gone to lunch and
only the cashier happened to be in the bank.

Kellish was disguised with an iron~gray wig
and beard, and was got up to personate a back-
country farmer.

He had arranged a couple of bogus notes,
purpor'ing to bedrawn and intlorsed by some
obscure men in the neighborhood. who were.
however, wail known, although their financial
standing was anything but 

He had come to see if he ‘ couldn’t raise some
money on the notes," he said, and pretending to
be extremely deaf, succeeded in getting the
cashier to come out from behind the counter to
talk to him.

And the moment he got the man, who was
an elderly gentleman, busy examining the
notes, he caught him by the throat, so as to
prevent him from giving an alarm shoved a
sponge which was dexterously amxed to a little
wide-mouthed bottle filled with chloroform to
his nostril, holdin him with a grip of iron,
until the old gent emau sunk to the floor in a

stl'lIPOI'.

hen he helped himself to some packages of
bills, amounting in value to a little owr twelve
thousand dollars, stufiiug them into the pockets
of the old-fashioned long coat which he wore as
carelessly as if they were so much paper.

The booty secured, he proceeded to escape.
but right on the threshold encountered two of
the clerks returning from their lunch.

Assuming an appearance of alarm, he criel:

“Say, boys, the old man has fainted l—got a
stroke of ’glexy Is’posa. Jest do all you kin
for him w ile i run for a doctor! And, say!
thar’s a couple of notes of mine that he was
lookin' at. it out for ’em, will ye, 'cos
they’re worth a couple of hundred, and cotton‘s
selling too dog-goned low for me to aflord to
lose any sich sum as that!"

Then he galloped out of the door, while the
clerks, without the least suspicion that anything
was wrong, hurried to the assistance of the old
gentleman.

The better to " go for the doctor,” Kellish
jumped upon his horse, which he had handy.
and made good time out of the town.

It took about fifteen minutes for the truth to
be ascertained, and then immediate rsuit was
given. and so hot was it that wit u a week’s
time Kellish was run to earth in Atlanta, but
none of the money was found upon him, nor
an part of the disguise.

he only mm; was the horse, and this was
very easily identified, for a dozen men had seen
the supposed lanter ride out of the town.

And as Kai ish was hei tried in a country
where neither judge nor nry could be got at
by the means of either money or influence. it
really seemed as if the master-rascal was going
to do the state some service this time.

 

12'

But as we have said, Kellish was a born
genius and a firm belieVer in the old saw which
says there are more ways than one to kill a
cat.

The bank, immediately aftsr the robbery.
had offered a reward of a thousand dollars for
the apprehension and canviction of the thief.

The only point against Kellish was the horse,
and he attempted toexplain away the pOssession _
of the steed b ' saying he had bought it from a
young man, at as he couldn’t produce the
man, or any evidence to rove that the story
was true, t e police cfiicia s from the Northern
cities were brought down to testify that he was
a. well-known rascal, and as such a job was
right in his line, it seemed as if conviction was
certain.

But then at the eleventh hour came forward
a private detective from Chicago, wLo rut
himself in communication with the bank (fli—

oars.

He said that, attracted by the reward, be had
been working tip the case, and had not only
become satisfied that Kellish didn’t do the job,
but he could put his hands on the man that did
the trick.

The bank men were doubtful, out they in-
structed the detective to go ahead, and the rt"
suit was the capture of a well-known rascal at
Columbus, Ga., and in his possession—for the
arrest was so carefully planned that it appeared
to take him completely by surprise—was the
complete disguise that the bark robber had
worn, as well as five thousand dollars of the
stolen funds.

And the man broke down completely, we
when arrested and charged with the crime, an
admitted he was the man who did the job.

He was tried and convicted. Kellish being re-
leased, although the cashier was positive that
he was not the man who had assaulted him.

The fellow said that he had buried the rest of
the money in the pine wrods, but after making
a couple of trials to find the place of the
“cache,” declared that he could not locate it.

He admitted, too, that he had sold the horse
to Kellish, and declared be had dere so with
the idea of throwing suspicion upon him, and so
directing it from himself.

The Northern police cfliCei-s, who knew the
rascal well, did not believe a word of his story,
as they asserted he was not a man with pluck
or brains enough to plan and perpetrate such a
first-class jlob.

It was a l a trick, they declared, on Kellish's
part to get out of the scrape.

But to the public at arge it did not seem
likely that a man would be apt to consign
himself to the tender mercies of such a den
of horrors as the Georgia State Prisnn. unless
he rl-eally felt the pangs of guilt gnawing at his
son .

The public. were inclined to believe that they
had made a mistake about this, though, when
before his first month in rison had come to an
end the culprit manage to efi’ect his escape.
got. off without trouble, was not recaptured,
and a strict examination revealed that a lar
sum of money had been used to efi'ect hises-
cape, for three of the risen wardens had un-
doubtedly been bri , although the State
couldn’t prove it.

Was it any wonder thtn that such a man I.
this was commonly known as the “ Tycoon!"

CHAPTER XXV.
m CUBAN LADY.

Tm; Georgia business was the narrowest
squeak that the “ great chief ” had ever It
ceived. and it proved a warning to him never
to work in the inhospitable lands of the South.
age a.

At the time we introduce the Tycoon to the
reader he was riding serenely on the topmut
wave of fortune. .

With three oonfederates he had lately made
a haul of twenty thousand dollars from an ex-
press messenger, whom they had dextrcusly as~
saulted in his car, and the job had been worked
so neatly that not the slightest trace of the
operators had the expreasman been able to
obtain.

Kellish was walking leisurely along, swing-
ing his light cane, admiring the beauty of the
many handsome girls always tube seen on
Broadway between the hours of three and five,
and meditating in what quarter he should oper-
ate next, and pondering. too, upon intelligence
which he had received that day from a friend
attached to police head-quarters, that the new
detective who was befihnihgfp make something
of akname for himsel had been placed upon. his
trac .

This “ friend at bead-quarters” cost the Ty-
coon a thousand dollars a year, but he consid-
ered the money well invested, for,” in this
case, he always received early warnln of any
im‘portant action threatening either f or
h

“fiends!- who the deuce this City Thorough-
bred is?" be murmured, as he strolled along.
“If I could only find out what the man was
mks, Ishouldbeablatobeeamygnardagsiaat

m

“but, as it is, I might take a drink with the
fellow and wouldn’t recognias him.

 

18

 

 

“ My friend at head-quarters must get me a
chance to see what he looks like, although be de-
clares that is impossible, for he has never even
seen the fellow himself, and he believes that he
alwiys wears a disguise.

“ at when I show my man a hundred-dollar
hill and tell him that it is his, if he can only
contrive to work the trick, I would be willing
to bet another hundred he will manage to flu
some way to accomplish it.

“ ‘Always disguised,’ bah! that is only a
trick to make the fellow appear mysterious.

“Let me once Set my eyes upon him and I’ll
beta fortune I’ll know him again, disguise or
no disguise.

“Such talk may do to cram children with,
but it’s too weak food for such men as I am.’_’

Just as he had come to this conclusion his
quick eyes caught si ht of a lady on the rome-
nade ahead of h w om he was overtak ng.

She was a ta 1, stylishly-dressed girl, not
fixactly handsome, yet with a prepossessing

ace. '

A brunette, very dark, evidently of foreign

extraction, and with the slight down upon the
upper lip peculiar to some women of the Latin
races.
In spite of this her face was attractive, and
Kellisn, who was quite a lady’s man—report
declared that he had had as man as a dozen
wives in his time—took it into his end that he
would like to make the lady’s acquaintance,
particularly as she wore magnificent diamonds,
and from her general appearance seemed to be
like one rollin in waalth.

“ It Would a glorious idea if I could strike
some girl like this and so get into fashionable
societ forawhile.

“ hat a haul I would make of diamonds
and bonds if I could only get in among these
Fifth avenue big-bugs!”

The lady paused or a moment tolook in a
shop-window where there was a collection of
paintings, and Kellish embraced the opportun-
ity to get a good view of her.

And as they stood side by side, each appar-
ently attentively en aged in examining the
disp ay of art. but ellish in reality studying
the face of the lady, thereby making the dis-
covery that she was not so youniz as he had
taken her to be—for instead of be ng a girl of
eifghteen as be had imagined, she was a woman
0 about thirty-oone of the heavy diamond
rings that she wore slipped from her finger and
fell to the ground.

The Tycoon was prompt to improve the op—
portunitv.

He picked up the ring-and most ladly
would have keted it, for it was a so itairc
diamond worth certainly a couple of thousand
dollars, but her brilliant dark eyes were upon
him, so with a polite how he tendered her the
trinket.

“Permit me, miss,” he said, assuming his
most gallant manner.

She seemed a trifle confused, affected to blush
alittle under his ardent gaze, and stammered
in a low but quite musical voice:

“Thanks, sir, you are so kind.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, miss; it always ves
me the greatest pleasure to be able to be 0 sero
vice toa lady,” and the Tycoon made another
profound how. -

“ You are Very gallant, sir.”

“ I hold it to be a fentleman’s dut to do all
in his power to ob] e alad , and should be
extremely pleased i eed if could render you
agreater service than merely to restore you n
aim le ring.” ,

’ -" on can do me another favor, if you all]
be so kind,” she said, with that charming frank-
ness so calptlvating in the softer sex.

' “I ahal on] be too happy,” he replied, with
another polite w.

The Tycoon was delighted. Fortune was
clearly smiling upon him, for here he had been
lucky enough 0 scrape an acquaintance with a
lady who was evidently a member of the upper
ten.

And as the Tycoon was particularly a prac-
tical business-man. already in his “ mind's
eye” he saw the aVenue open to a lot of enter-

whereby he and his pals could acquire
much wealth.

“I am on my way to the St. Nicholas Hotel,
but I do not know exactly where it is situated.
1 was told to go down Broadway, and assured
that I could not miss it.” -

“The advice was correct; the hotel is onl a
few blacks further down the street. I am go ng
right past it, and if you will rmit me I shall
ta a great pleasure in point ng it out to you.
Allow me toolfer you my card."

And in his politest manner the Tycoon ten-
dered the bit of pastehoard.

Kellieh was always vided with this sort of
thing, for he belieVed n doing business in style.

The lady read the name aloud.

“00an La Gm Cmono."

“Yea. miss. of Water roof, Wadppi. I am
here. a New York on a riot viola"

“ y own case exactly. I am a native of this
city. but have resided in Cuba eVer since I was
a little girl,” and she too drew a card from a

most exquisite little card-case, and gave it to

 

The Gentefiefil I Spotter.

the Tycoon.
“ Mas. GENE-EAL MANUEL Ilssmcnas,”

was thy inscription that. the curd borc.

And as this chief of rascals read the name,
throu h his brain floated visions of the enormous
wealt that these Cuban generals were rumored
to ssess.

Certainly this promised to be the greatest
piece of luck that he had ever struck, if he was
only careful in pla ing his cards correctly.

“ I am delighte ,madam, to have the honor
of making your in" uaintance, although it is the
fortunate result oii chance instead of a formal
introduction.”

“ It is very lucky that it happened for I might
have lost my ring if it had not been for you,
and that would have been no trifling loss, for it
cost twenty-one hundred dollars. It was a pres
ent from my husband, my engagement—ring."

“To lose such a precious token would have
been a serious matter indeed,” the Tycoon de-
clared.

And then the two strolled down the street to-
gether chatting like old acquaintances, the Ty-
coon oing his leVel best to keep up to the life
the character which he had assumed.

 

CHAPTER XXI.
KELLISH'H GAME.

“ I'M almost a strungcr in New York." the
lady rcmarkcd, as they proorcded along the
street. " l (‘ilnlfl from Cuba to join my bus-
band hero. but important business cullcd him
away before my arrival, so that I llnvc bocn
without an escort, consc uently linvc sccn
ver ' little of the city, and have not gone at
all mto society."

"My own case cxuctly." tlic Tycoon rc-
mnrked. “ At home I do not lack for
fricnds. in fact, all along ihc Mississippi
from Memphis to ()rlcuns I am at homc
cvcrywhcrc, but in this ovcrgrown city 1 :un
complctclv lost, madam."

“ Possibly I may still Iurlhcr trespass
upon your kindncss,” ilic lmly remarked,
abruptly, as it suddenly impressed with a
new idea.

" I shall be dclightcd —- pray command
mc!“ cxclnimcd the zulvcnturcr, in high
glue that affairs “'ch progressing so favor-
ably.

“ I am going to the St. Nicholas on partic-
ular business," she remarked, a trace of con-
fusion plainly visible in ln-r lllllllll('l‘. “l
sci out hecdlcsaly and williout rcficclion,
but now as I approach Illi‘ liolcl I lit-gin to
think that it was not wisc in inc to come in
person, and that I ought to have sought the
aid of an cxpericnccd law yer." ,

There was evidently some dccp m story in
all this, and the Tycoon jump(, at the
chance, for, to his thinking, a mystery con-
nected with the wife of a Cuban general who
sported about five thousand dollars? worth of
diamonds upon her person. must be produc-
tive of some money to a man of genius like
himself.

“ Madam, allow me to oifer my services.

,I am a lawvcr by profession. and shall be

glad of the clmncc to scrvc you!" lie hastened
to 

“ 'hy, this is rcull fortunate!" she ex-
claimed, “for I slloul not have. known to
whom to apply. As you have doubtless sur-
mised, I am in trouble. and I need the assist-
ance of u clear-headed, lioncst lawycr. My
husband and mysclf have bccn separated for
some little time now.

“ After his arrival in this country he be-
came infatuated with some wrctclicd stage
creature. an Opera-singer, or a ballet-dancer,
or something of that sort, and although I do
not care enough about it man who can so far
forget his position as to disgrace himself in
that way, yet I cannot allow him to Sf uan-
der u n such a miserable creature bot his
own ortune and minc.

" lie is stopping at the St. Nicholas, and
in answer to a lettcr of mine wherein l
ihrcatcned to tnkc legal proceedings unless
he came to some agreement. with me, he
begged that i would visit him today before
I proceeded to all y extreme measures.

“Now would it not be better that you
should see him as my legal adviser and learn
what he proposes to do?"

“By far the best plan!" the Tycoon re-
plied, instantly.

“I will wait in the parlbr while you see
him, and if 'nccessary for me to appear in
the matter you can bring him there. ’

“Just pencil on the back of one of my

 

 

cards authority for me to act,“ Mild thc ud-

\‘cnturcr.

They had now cntcrcd the vestibule of thc
hotel and hnltcd.

She complicd with his re ucst; then Kcl-
lish cscoricd her to the par or, and leaving
her there. prtx-ccdcd to the office to hunt up
the general.

' “ Gone away," responded the hotel clcrk.
bricliy, consulting the register.

“ Is it possible?"

“Yes, sir, left 'cstcrdny.”

“ Did he say w cu he would be back?“

“ Isn‘t coming back at all. Huilcd for
Brazil yesterday afternoon."

The Tycoon icsscd the game at. once.
The general ha merely written to his wife
to gain time, and had taken advantawc of an
opportunity to cscnpc to Brazil, with which
country the United States has no extradition
treat .

“ ie has collared the boodle and vamoscd
the ranch," muttered the inquircr to himself,
dropping naturally into the thieves’ argot. as
their peculiar figures of spccch are termcd.

“ I rcprcscnt Mrs. Gcncrnl lIcspcdcs; I
am her legal adviser," lic continued aloud.
handing the clerk the curd upon which the
lady had written, for inspection.

“All, i suppose then you have come for
the nrccl that the general left for his wifc‘!"

T e Tycoon prickcd up his cars. What
was in this parcel?

“ ch, if you will be so kind; the lady is in
the parlor now. '

“ All, I‘m glad of ll, for the gent-ml was
quite particular in warning me to be cnrcful
that the parcel rcuclicd her.”

Then, going to lllc wife, the clerk opcncd
it and look out. it small parch curl-fully
wrnppcd in still brown papcr, cnllcd one of
the bcll boys and bade him go with the gentlc-
man and give the package to Mrs. Gcncral
llcspcdcs in the parlor.

'I‘hc pnckngc was delivered, and win-n thc
boy (lcpnl'lcd, as there wasn‘t any one in the
parlor to observe them, Kcllisli adviscd that
the packagc be opcncd.

The lady (lid so; a letter, u snfc-kcy and ii
lmudlc of United States bonds wczc re-
vculcd.

The 'l‘ycoou‘s cycs spurklcd.

TIIC topmost bond was a thousand dollar
one, and us the othch socmcd like it. and hc
felt there was a strong probability that they
were the sumc, there was fortune in the little
parcel.

The letter was brief, and the lady read it
aloud:

“ ' I sail this afternoon for Brazil. You will
never see me again, but I am not base enough to
rob you of your fortune, despite 'our accusations.

“ In this package are the nited B'ates bonds
and the key of the sale, which stands in the dining-

room. where the rest of the securities are kept.
“ ‘ Allis yours. Farewelll' ”

T he lady shrugged licr shouldcrs with truc
Latin indifference.

“1’98th 1 do not care for the man so
long as m money is safe,” she rclnnrkt‘d.
“1 learnc to despise him lon ago. ’

Then she opened the little Img,‘ which, af-
ter the fashion of the age, she carried.
crammed the bonds into it and put the. safe-
key in her wallet.

“I should advise you to put these Vulu-
able sccuritics in some safe place as soon as
lOSSIblO," Kcllish remarked; “ also the othcrs
m the safe, for that is anything but a secure
place for them.

“We have rascals in New York who, to
pm at a goodly sum of money, would brcak
through the iron walls of an ordinary safc
ulmost its easily and quickly as though they
WP". composed of pine boards,”

" It is an cxool cnt idea, and if you will
accompany me we will go home and examine
them and then put dam in some safe place
immediately. ”

“Have you any idea of what securities
arc in the safe and their value?” the Tycoon
uskcd, insinuatin ly.

“Thcrc shong be about fifty thousand
dollars in United States bonds and fifty
thousand more in railroad stocks and other
securities. I do not exactly remember what
they all are. for I have very little head for
business." v .

Despite himself the Tycoon could not re
press a start of surprise. ‘

Fifty thousand dollars in United States
bonds would be a haul worth making, and

"#39 Way: " A‘

"#39 who: " A‘

\

A

this extraordinary prize seemed to be fairly
within his rasp.

Woman ike, the. Cuban lad had been im-
pressed by his appearance, an all he had to
do was to keep up the dece tion and most
certainly the bonds would be is.

“ The quicker such a sum as that is put in
the charge of a safe dc sit company the
better," hellish remarku . With an appear-
ance of great wisdom.

“Yes, I suppose so. but I really know so
little about business; I shall have to rely
entirely on your judgment.”

“ You may depend upon me,” Kellish re-
plied, promptly, and with a profound bow.

Then the quitted the hotel.

“When came to the city I took oases—
sion of my husband's house, which 0 had
fitted up in Twenty-ninth street. My ar—
rival was a surprise to him, and he imme-
diately left the city on the pretext that he,
had important business interests to look
after.

“ I did not understand at the time why he
should want such a house. but I discovered
very soon that it was his intention to install
this miserable stage wretch there, but my
timely arrival frustrated the Ian.”

The house had been fitt up in excellent
style, as Kellish speedily saw upon entering
it, althou h from the outside it did not look
particula'ry attractive, bein a small, twp-
storicd brick house, one of t to old-fashioned
kind, about a block from Broadwa .

The safe to which the letter refined was
an elaborate affair in the dining-room. fash-
ioned after the pattern of a sideboard and so
excellent was the imitation that detection.
except upon close examination, was almost
im ossib e.

be Tycoon with his quick eyes had no-
ticed all the surroundin s.

N 0 one within the ouse had observed
their entrance, as far as he could see. the
lady having used a latch-key. If there Were
any servants in the house, they were. in some
remote part of it, for there was no sign of
their ,nce.

A ortune would speedil be within his
gm'asp and he was determin to secure it.

In his pocket he carried a small sand-club,
a weapon he was quite expert in using, and
without which he never traveled. ‘

The plan he had formed Was an extremely
simple one.

After the safe was open he was 'goin to
suggest to the lady that the bonds am so;
curitics be placed upon the table so that they
mi, ht be counted and a list of them taken

hen when the lunder was in plain sight
—within reach of iis hand—he would man-
age to get an opportunity to give her a tap
with the sand-club which would stun her
into insensibility.

And when the lady was thus disposed of,
it would be an easy matter for him to pocket
all the securities that could be easily
marketed, and leave the house as quickly as
possible.

The beauty of the scheme Was its sim-
plicity.

 

CHAPTER XXVII.
rm; 'rrcoox rs HNARED.

REALLY the thing seemed to be so simple
that the Tycoon felt almOst ashamed of the

ob.
j A fortune right beyond the tips of his tin
gem and only a weak bit of a woman in the
way.

“ I must arran‘ it so as to get a chance to
give her a lick o my life- reserver when her

ack is turned," he mu in his mind.

" I should hate like the deuce tobe obliged
to strike her right before her face and eyes,
after making such a favorable impression
upon her.

“Oh, that would never do at all; I must
play the gentleman in this matter, even.if I
never see the woman again."

“ Have the kindness to open the safe.
please, and then we will see if this husband
of mine has tol the truth or not," the lady
said, handing him the key of the safe.

“I do not have very much faith in his
statement,” she continued.

“It would be just like the man to change
his mind at the last minute and help him-
self to all the valuables he could get his
hands upon." '

“Oh. I feel sure you wrongnhim, madam;
the fellow would be worse t n a Turk to

 

The 391115991 ISPBIP‘EE-.-

commit such an outrage upon such a charm-
ing lady as yourself," said the. Tycoon, with ‘
a most gallant bow. ,

“All, I fear you are a sad flatterer," the
lady remarked, appearing to be a little em-
barrassed by the ointed com liment.

“ I give you fair warnin t at hereafter I
shall never be willing to he love there is any
truth in man.”

“()h, madam, because you find one man
who is not to be trusted, it is unfair to con- ‘
demn all."

“Perhaps so, but I fear I shall always.
doubt,” she replied, with a dubious shake of f
the head. I
. “Pray, open the safe. I am dying with
impatience. ’

“ How disgusted she will be after she rc- i
covers from the clip on the head and discov— f
ers that l have eloped with all the valu—.
ables," muttered the T *coon, as he kneltf
and inserted the key in t e safe.

And hardl had he done so when thcre ’
came a swis of something through the air,
and the bold and wily Tycoon. stunned into '
insensibility, sunk forward on his face. i

How long he remained in this state he
knew not, but when his senses slowly came
back he looked around in wonder.

He was in a cellar, into which no ray of
daylight seemed to penetrate.

A small lantern, placed upon the damp
ground, served to dime illuminate the place. ’

The Tycoon was lying onhis back on a :'
sort of a rude bunk made out of bOards. and !
destitute of any covering, :

The bunk was a couple of feet. high. and !
the man was so securely lashed to it by stout
cords passed around his arms, legs, and the
middle of his body, that he found it almost ,
impossible to move, although he exerted his '
utmost strength in attempting to alter his?
position. :

Another strange fact, too, his stockings?
and shoes had been removed, although not a f
single iecc of his other clothing had been 3
touche .

“What in the name of all that is wonder— .
fit] is the meaning of this?" he cried. sav- :
agely.

“ {ave I been cntrap ed? and, if I have,
why, am I put here—w at is to be done to
me "

The iron-hearted desperado was nervous
under these strange circumstances, for the
unknown danger which seemed to threaten
ap alled him.

hen abruptly, and without warnin , a
door in the darkest corner of the celar,
which the Tycoon had not noticed before,
opened, and a young man. neatly clad in a
dark business suit, walked into the cellar,
and coming to the foot. of the bunk surveyed
the prisoner with a quiet smile.

The Tycoon took a single look at the hand-
some. smoothl -shaven' face, and the truth
flashed u u h m.

Ile ha been tricked in the most outrage-
ous manner.

This was the Cuban lady. .

He had one for wool and got shorn.

“Well, coon, how do on find your-
self?" the visitor asked, br ng the silence.

“ What is the meaning of this?”

“ ()hol you are too 01 astager to put such
a question as that.”

“What do you want'with mo—why have
you fooled me in this way?" '

" That’s my business."

“ Your business?"

“ Yes, I am a detective oficer."

‘f’Thc Genteel Spotter!” burst involun-
taril from the lips of the prisoner.

“ on can go to the head: you have guess-
ed the riddle correctl the first time."

“And; you decoy me here on pu . to
give me a clip on the head?“ cried meoon,
mad with an , "when he thought how com-
pletely he ha been fooled.

“ ics, I had to lay you out, so as to bring
you down here," the ‘Other answered.

"I know it was rather rough, for you
swallowed the story of the Cuban lady with-
out once choking at the bait; you calculated
to lay out the lady at the first convenient
o portunity, and then get away with the
p under.

" It would have been a beautiful job, and
that is the reason I made the tem tion so
stron ; ou were a big fish, and I new you

’ you down here.
, we can‘t disturb any one even i we shn'dmd
l at the to of our lungs.”

 

woul n‘ ‘be apt to bite unless I offered you
a big bait."

“Well. you have tricked me, but. what
are you up to? What. is the meaning of
this concern that you have me tied to—why
have you brought me down into such a

 

" place as this—what's your game, anyway?"

“\thw! you fairly overwhelm a fellow
with questions,” replied the detective, and
then he brought an old box out of a corner
of the cellar and sat down at the foot of the
bunk.

“You might as well let me know first as .
last what you are up to," the Tycoon '
observed in a sulky tone. “And, I say, why
in blazes did you remove my stockings and

' shoes?"

" Take it easy and I will explain,” respond-
ed the detective. ‘

“In the first place
that you are ‘wanted?’

“ That is possible, but if I am, why didn‘t
'ou clap the handcuffs on and take me to
head- uarters, not truss me up here like a
blastt chicken?”

“Because I wished to have a little talk
with you first. I want some information.”

" Information l”

“Yes. and that is the reason I brou ht
This is a fine lace to ta k;

you know, I suppose.

The ycoon, man of iron nerves though

he was, shivercd.

'Ile felt in his bones that there was a,
fearful meaning back of this simple hit of
information.

"Yes, sir. I could kill you right here,
and you could yell till your throat cracked,
no one would hear you." the detective con-
tinued

“What good would it do you to kill me?"
the Tycoon questioned. “ I never met you
before, never injured on in any way that
you should hold a grut c against me.

"Of course, as a etective, it is only
natural you should want to snap the dar-
bics On my wrists, if you got a chance, but

I that hasn‘t anything to do with killing a

man."
“Oh, no; but, as I said before, I want :i

. little information."

" About what?"

“Bristol Bill i”

There was a moment of silence and then
the risoner blurted out:

“ Vhat do I know about him?”

“ Everything; you are the man who
planned his escape, assisted by the woman
who clin so tightly to the scoundrel.

" You now where he is now secreted, and
that is what I want to know."

“ And if I did know, do you think I would
betray a pal? No, sir: you don’t know me!
I would not give. a pal away if you cut me
into mincemeat!" cried the Tycoon, with a
sudden outburst of ferocity. ‘

“ You wouldn‘t be fit for anything in that
shape except to feed dogs, and I don’t own
any." replied the detcgtive.

“ Do your worst: I’ I not speak!”

“You will not?” and there was asli ht
motion of the detective‘s'hand as he ended
the sentence.

A yell came from the lips of the helpless
outlaw.

" My God! what are you doing?"

“ \Vhat's the matter with you? What are
you yelling in that way for? I'm only tick-

ing your foot with a straw."

nd as be repeated the operation, another
yell came from the Tycoon, followed by an
outburst of curses.

The detective suspended operations for a
minute.

'° Oh, come, this will not do.” he said,
in a disgusted tone. “If ou‘re going to-
yell like that ri ht. at the nning, what.
will you do after 've been at t for an hour
or two?" '

“In Heaven’s name, man, have you no
pity?” howled the coon. hoarse] . " Can
you sit there and to ure me todea ?”

“ And why should I have any pity on much
a remorseless wolf as on have proved our
self to be a hundred t mes?" cried the -
bound of sooiety, sternly. 1‘

" Think of the crimes that stain your
soul, and then despair when you ask me for
mercy. ' j '

"' am determined to hunt you hm
wolves down. either, bv fair means or
foul. You know where. Thistol Bill is (on—
ccalcd. .

20'

The Genteel Spotter. . p  h “V m

 

" You must reveal that secret to me, or ill
torture you until you become a howling
maniac. I am as remorse-less as you have
been in lyour career of crime. Speak. and
you aha go free. provided on agree to leave
the country, for as sure as run foul of you
again I’ll hang vou! Bristol Bill is m 'meat,
and l hunger for him as the bloodhound
hungers for his prev."

“ Spare me and I will reveal all!" the Ty"
coon cried, in abject terror.

lie had met his master.

 

CHAPTER XXV” l.
rm: CAPTURE.

ALL the reparations for the attack had
been carefu ly made The gambling-house
was com letely surrounded by officers in

lain clot es, and each and every man had

n instructed to kill Bristol Bill rather than
allow him to escape, and as the desperado
was well known to be a resolute man and

one who would not hesitate to use his wea<
pons if he was cornered, every one of the
offlccrs felt that life was not worth an hour‘s
purchase if the outlaw succeeded in using
his pistol.

At last the word was given and the column
moved forward to the attack. '

The bell was rung and when the negro
opened the door in the cautious manner that
we have before described, a cocked revolver
was instantly passed through the o ening
and leveled at his head. and so neat y was
the operation performed that the first intima-
tion the guardian of the door received that
an thing was wrong was when he felt the
cod muzzle of the pistol prcss against his
temples.

“Don't utter a sound—don't attempt to
give any alarm or I‘ll blow the whole top
of your head off!" cried the. superintendent
of police, who led the attack in person, so
anXious was he to capture the renowned
Bristol Bill.

The African was a perfectly trustworthy
man and tolerably bravo as men go, but he
was not devoted enough to his employers
nor rash enough to lose his life in their ser-
vice.

As the chief of police afterward observed,
the darky nearly turned white with terror.

"For de love of goodness, boss. don't
shoot!" he murmurci in abject terror, his
voice. but little above a whis r.

“Open the door then an be quick about
it!" was. the stern command, “ and mind, no
nonsense, don’t try to come an ' um-games
upon us, fur if you do you‘ll in‘d that it is
the worst job that you ever tackled in all
’ your life!"

' “ Don’t you be skeet-ed! I ain’t dat kind
of a nigger. No ssh!" the janitor declared,
trembling in every limb. "It‘s all right,
I'll open the door, and as fur kicking up a
row. no snh! I’se been too well brnng up
fur dat.

“ When on gits de dead wood on me I'm
dat kind of'a coon dat comes down. cbbery
time, and don't you fergit dat, either!"

And then the African 0 -ncd the door
with an alacrity that proved a was a man of
his word.

The officers stole in as noislessly as so
many cats, and carefully cloud the door he-
hind them. -

“Take char 0 of this fellow, Williams,"
the. superintcn ent said, “while I interview
the. coon number two. If he attempts to
give any alarm by means of secret wires or
,anything of. that kind, put a hole right
through his head. "

“Ban cap‘n, for do love of goodness!
don't you be in ahurry 'bout dat ere let-tic
job,” the n to murmured, thoroughly
soared. “ I’ll just as uiet as a dead man
——I won't even draw my refft"

"All right! see that you behave yourself.
for you know what you‘ll get if you don't."

And with this warning the leader of the
party advanced to the inner door and gave
theslgnal.

The secret panel o and immediately and
the face of the secon negro appeared.

The same game was played upon him that
had succeeded so well with the first dorky,

But this second man, a far greater coward
than the first, no sooner felt the cold steel
muzzle of the revolver pressing against his
forehead and heard the ominous words of
the intruder:

“Don‘t attempt to give any word or you I ever snapped a handout! upon the wrist of a
die on the instant I" ' felon.

Then he almost fainted away. so great was . They paused for a moment in the upper
his fright. ; cntr '.

“ We want to come in and we want you to T 0 door leading from the back room.
open the door, and without, makin any noise . where the faro-table was placed, into the hall
about the matter either." the chic of the at- l was always kept closed and locked, as the
tacking forcc continued. “If you feel (lis—I officers found it on this occasion, but the
pOscd to behave yourself and do just as I door into the front apartment was standing
say, no harm will come to on, but if you i open. ‘
attempt to be ugly, I woul 't give a five. ; As the negro janitor had said, it was alto-
ccnt icon, for your life,"  g'ctlier too early for visitors, and therefore

“ I'or de Lor', boss, I‘ll do ebberyt'ing you 7 the. man who attended to the hat-room Was

tell me!" the fri htcned negro responded. ‘ not at his st, or else the intruders would
“Open the door, then; that's the first; have been immediately discovered the mo

thing on the programme." i ment they made their appearance on the
" ’cs, sah."  up r landing.

And the alacrity with which the man per- ut as it was the door was open and the
formed the task was wonderful. wa ' clear.

The police trooped in. he attackers hesitated for a moment in

“ Any secret wires or other means by l the entry, and the chief ran his c 'es over his
which you can sound an alarm upstairs in l followers, as if to ascertain that t ey were all
case of trouble down here ?" the chief asked. ready and appreciated the gravity of the sit-

“ Yes, sah, dat button dar on de wall," an- I nation.
swered the negro, with a promptitude which I Then, satisfied with the inspection, he gave
plainly showed he was desirous of doing all 1 the signal for the advance.
in his power to curry favor with the in- ; Noiselessly, like so many grim specters,
vaders. i the ' glided into the front parlor.

Life and liberty Were sweet. and the Afri- ; 'Ilhere were only two men in the room.
can did not intend to risk either if he could ‘ Bolly Lewes. the proprietor of the place. and
help it. a clerical-looking gentleman with smoothly-

“ How does it work?" sliavcn face and rather long, dark hair.

“ You pull it out, sah. and dar's a wire ' They were seated in easy-chairs. close by
dat runs to a big gongbcll right under do the sideboard, and had been taking some wine
fare-table, and dc game is for In(' to all dat together, for the glasses. only half-drained.
wire do moment I see any signs dat ( c police were in their hands.
are round." There was not a sign that the place was

“I see; well. We're all rivatc gentlcmcn: Used for ambling pur oses, for the fam-
here: you don‘t see any po ice oflicers in this 3 table was a ways remove except when want
party, do you?" ed for actual use.

“ '0. sub, private cuimens, sub," and dc- “ Well, well," exclaimed Bolly Lewes.
spite the gravity of tie situation the negro looking at the officers in astonishment, and
could not help showingr his ivorics in proof yet evidently not much alarmed, “if this
that be appreciated the joke. isn‘t a surprise-party you can take all I’m

“ Sit down and behave yourself like a gen- worth. _
tlcman and we'll treat on like a lord." “ What‘s the. matter, Captain Williams?"

The negro sat d0\\'u immediately. and he addressed the question to the officer

“ You'l find me right dar, sah, cbbery who stood next to the Gcnteel Spotter, and
time." who was the captain in charge of the pre-

“ One of you take care of this follow, and cinct. “What's broke? You look as if you
if he opens his head to give the alarm or at- had come on business, but as you see, there
tempts to pull the bell while we are ascend isn‘t anything going on."
ing the stairs, blow his brains out on the in~ “This gentleman is in command," the
stunt," the leader commanded. captain said. indicating Roland Yorke.

One of the detectives, with drawn and “ Ah! I‘ve not had the pleasure of your
cocked revolver. took up a p0sition by the actpuiintaacc. but the captain will tell on
side of the negro. that I'm a pretty square man," the gambler

“ For de Lor', gemmen, you won‘t find 9. observed, pleasantly.
quieter man in dis 1 yer t0wn dan I am. but “It is not you, sir. but your companion l

 

you're a deal too soon— es, sah, you’re. alto- ment the detective removed the wig that the
gedder [too previous, 8 evening, not dis desperado wore. _
evening, some odder evening, you know, Again Bristol Bill was in the toils.

yar. ar!" and the negro lnncd.
a’hat gr CHAPTER XXIX.

“ do you mean ‘2'
“De game hasn't opened yet; you won't BROUGHT 'ro BAY.
THE surprise was complete.

find nobody up-stairs for to speak of, and
dat‘s what's de matter with Hannah." The. movement was so sudden. and r-
“Wc understand all about that; you mi rht formed so adroitly. that even the astute ris-
as well undertake to teach your grandmot er to] Bill was taken complete] unawares.
to suck eggs as to ump to our little game,
but as 'ou spoke wit 1 good intent I'm much Spotter the moment the invaders had entered
oblige to on all the same." the room, but, confident in the-completeness
“ All rig t, sah, don‘t mention it. l allcrs of his disguise, he did not believe that even
tries for to be on good terms wid gemmens : his argus-eyed foe would be able to recognize
in you line ob business. Dar's no telling} him. .
when a coon like me may want fur to hub a ; Despite the overwhelmin I odds. the dos-
fricnd fur to speak a good word fur him." i pin-ado would undoubtedly ve offered re-
“We'll remember you, don't be alarmed i sistance if there had lit-(n the least possible
about that, if you behave yourself." , chance for a successful tight.
“You kin bet all yer wealth on dat, salil" j As it was, in the first flush of his ra at
Then, leaving the negro in charge of a de- ' bein thus easily captured, he (-lappc his
tcctivc, the party ascended the stairs. l ham to a revolver which he had concealed in
Their revolvers were out, the. hammers i a side. ocket; but Roland Yorke was on the
raised, ready for action. alert or 'ust. such a prooecding. and with
They were about to encounter a desperate his level pistol he warned the desperado
man, one who would not hesitate fora mo- against the movement.
ment to shed the blood of a dozen men if he “ Don‘t attempt to draw a weapon, or
could esca . the toils of justice by so doing. I will kill you without mercy!" he cried,
it Was li ely, too, that there might be two and the tones in which he spoke plainl
or three more of the same kidney with him, indicated that he would be as good as h
and in that case a desperate fight might be Word.
anticipated, unless the surprise was so com- “ l on are fairly captured, and it will not
plete that the rascals were aflorded no chance do you the least b t of good to be ugly about
to offer resistance. . the matter. .1 don‘t care to take upon my-
The officers hardl breathed as they as- self the double office of judge and execution-
cended the stairs wit noiseless feet. er, but as surely as there is a heaven above
Not a soul was encountered, but the sound me, so surely will I kill you without mercy
of men‘s voices came from the inner apart- if on attempt to show fight!"
ments. oily Lewes thought it was time for him
There were four in the attackingJurty. to put in a word at this point, for he well
Four as resolute and determin men as knew the desperate nature of Bristol Bill and

 

 

 

 

you’ll ’scuse me, gemmens, if I say dat want, Bristol Bill," and Willi a quick move--

Of course he had recognized the Gentcel.

 

v” "v, ’ZfiWf‘" ‘

.é‘
‘.
l

 

“ -‘ -:ft}-::‘;.€W:;i . .i :2 ‘ 

< p..-»— .mn .

was afraid that, in his ugliness at being so
easily captured, he might be tempted to do
something rash. . '

A weight had been taken off_ his mind,
too, by the discovery that the Visit of the
officers was not intended for him, nor for
his establishment, and not for a thousand
dollars would he have been willing to al-
low a bloody battle to take place in his
parlor, for that would inture a publicity to
the place which would bring utter ruin tohis
business.

“There isn't any use of making a fuss,
Bill,” the gambler observed, sootlringly.

“These gentlemen have got the dead wool 35
on you this time, and you might as Well take 1

it they as to kick up a row."

“Ah, that's the way of the worulL" the
ruflian cried, with bitter accent. “ When
a man is down, cwrybody takes a kick at
him."

“ Oh, come, Bill," the ambler protested,
“that isn‘t the way to ta k at all. I've al-
ways been a friend of yours, and have shown
it in a hundred different ways.

“And in this case I’m acting like a friend.
These gentlemen have got you dead to rights,
and what is the use of your kicking against
it? You might as Well make up your mind
to go along quietly. .

“One thing is certain: it you attempt to
show fight now, the chances are about ten
to one that you will never have another
opportunity.

“ So I say I'm acting like a true friend in
advising you to take it easy."

Bristol Bill glared around him for a
moment with a look on his face akin to that
which appears on the face of the caged wild
animal restlesst seeking to find some weak
spot in his prison bars, and then. fixing his
gave upon the detective, cried:

“ You houndl why have you hunted me

down? It is to you that I am indebted
for this but there's a bitter reckoning
ahead.

“You may be able to send me up the
river, but neither ou nor the whole force of
the State of New ork will be able to keep
me there, and when I return I swear I'll have
your life if it takes ten years to accomplish
the task!"

” Oh, will you?" replied the Genteel Spot.
ter, contemptuously. “Bristol Bill, there
are two old sayings that I would like to re-
call to your mind; the first is, ‘Threatened
men live lon ,’ and the second, ‘Barking
dogs seldom bite.’ "'

“You'll find that I can bite, and will,
too!" the desperudo cried, mvagely.

“ I don‘t doubt that your inclination to do
me a mischief is strong enough, but I do
doubt your ability to do the job.

“We have had considerable of a contest
already, and up to the present date the
advantages have been decidedly on my
side.

“ You were carryin it with a high hand
when I started in to unt you down, but I
succeeded in not only bringing your crimes
home to you but in driving you intoacorner
from which escape is not easy.

“You speak about going up the river,
but, Bristol Bill, the odds are at least a
hundred to one that you will not .go to Sing
Sin .

" e man that you hurt in your escape
from the Tombs died last night, and if

ou don't swing for his murder it will be
be because there isn‘t any justice in the
land.” ,

The tuition was visibly affected by this
})ntelligence, and his face turned a shade

aler.

This was a result that he had not contem-
\. lated.

“You can’t prove that I hurt the man!"
he exclaimed, defiantly, after a moment’s
pause.

" Oh, I’m not going to enter into the par-
ticulars of tho case and tell you what I can
prove or what I can’t.

"You‘ll find out soon enough, for the
way things are working the chances are big
that. you will be brought to an immediate
trial," the detective answered.

Ile did not think it judicious to reveal to
the despeme that the man whom he had
wounded so severely was sensible up to
the time of his death, and had made a dy-
ing declaration that Bristol Bill was his
murderer.

,tated springing u

 

._ Tile .QQnWel-,_§P°tter'-

“Oh, well, I suppose the game is up for
the present,” the rufl‘lan remarked, rising
with an ill-grace and allowing the officer to
search for and remove his wea ons.

“But I don't exactly un erstand what
has made you so infernal eager in this
matter,” he said to the vigilant detective,
who, with the eyes of a lynx, was watching
to see that the search was complete and that
the prisoner did not retain a weapon.

“1 had made up my mind to hunt you
down, and was determined to do it; that‘s all
there is to it," the sleuth-hound replied.

“ Yes, but the woman for whose sake you
first entered into the business, took the trou-
ble to hunt you up and tell you she bore no
malice for what had occurred in the past,
and she requested you to take no further
stc s in the matter, ’ the ruflian remarked,
sul only.

“ That was a very transparent dodge, and
do you for amoment suppose Ididn‘t see
throu rh it right at the beginning?

“’I‘ e woman is under your thumb; she
has changed greatly for the Worse since her
youthful days, and you sent her to me, when
you discovered I was going to make it hot.
for you, thinking she would be able to
switch me off on another track.”

“Well, since you went into the matter

solely on her accbunt I reckoned she might V

have some influence over you,” Bristol Bill
replied.

“And were you fool enough to sup so
that I was that kind of a man who woul be
apt to either forgive or forget that cellar
business when you doomed me tobe eaten
up alive by the rats?" Roland Yorke‘rcplied,
for the first time. betraying signs of excite-
ment.

“ Why, you bloodthirsty scoundrell when
I was waiting in the dark for the rats to be-
gin their attack, sufl'erin all the agonies of
the damned, I swore by a l 1 held sacred in
the world that if a merciful lleaven saw fit
by some wonderful chance to preserve my
life I would devote all my days to bringing
you and all such human wolves to ustice.

“A miracle was worked in my ever and
the result is I will either land you in the
 Prison for lite or On the hangman’s scaf-

0 .Jl

Bristol Bill glared at the speaker in sullen
rage and for a moment looked as if he medi-
n him, but if ,he had any
such idea the o cers at his side quickl
frustrated it by snapping a air of handcu s
upon,his wrists. forcing a itter curse from
the desperado‘s lips as he felt the contact of
the steel bracelets with his flesh.

“ Do you want me captain i" asked the
gambler. rising in a cheerful, business sort of
a way.

“ No, Bollv, nothing against you to-night,
only be careful what. company you keep. A
man with a reputation: like this fellow 1: don’t
do your house any good. I don‘t see any-
thing wrong about here," and there was a
quiet smile as he looked around him. “ And
it‘s lucky for you that I don't, for if you had
had any cards or chins, or any gamb ing im-
plements in sight should be obliged to
‘pull’ the lacs.”

“Oh, I out gamble any more; no game
here now; I‘ve made money enough to re-
tire,” res nded Lewos, with a smile that
was chil like and bland.

“ And I know so little of what is going on
that I had no idea that Bill. here, was mixed
up many crooked work. But take a drink.
gentlemen, before you go, and for old times’
sake, Bristol, I’ll see that you are provided
with as g00d a lawyer as money can buy.”

The captain laughed; he understood how
matters were well enough.

But they all filed up to the sideboard and
took a Bee able drink, Bill alone refusing.

“ I wouldn't drink with that seoimdrel of
a detective!" he cried. " The liquor would
choke me!”

The rest all laughed at this, thinking it to
be a good joke, and the captain took it upon
himself to tender the gambler a piece of ad-
vice.

“ A good lawyer for Bill is all well
enough, but if you’ll take my counsel you
will go for the jury and the witnesses, for if
you don’t manage to get at and square some
of them, Bill Will have about nine hundred
and ninety-nine chances out of a thousand,
to tr the fit of a hempcn eravat.

“ o-longl"

 

21

‘_” " """‘ ‘-"'~_— ,I 

 

And then the officers withdrew with their
prisoner.

An hour later Bristol Bill was once more
a prisoner, in the Tombs.

 

CHAPTER XXX.
a CLEW AT nas'r.

GREAT was the excitement in the flash
cribs of the city—as the saloons patronized
by the criminal classes are called in the
thieves argot—when the news of the recap-
ture of Bristol Bill became public pro rty,
particularly when it was a so learne that
the officer who had been hurt by Bill had
died of his wounds and there was an almost
absolute certainty that Bristol Bill would be
convicted of murder.

There was a hurrying to and fro ameng
the friends of the accused man, for it was
plain, right at the beginning that a large sum
of money would be needed for his defense.

The mest noted firm of criminal lawyers
in the city had been employed, but those wily
and sagaeious gentlemen said at the begin-
ning, after looking into the case, it washopc-
less, and they didn’t see a chance, if the trial
was a fair one. to save Bristol Bill from the

gallows which he so richly deserved.

When the counsel of the police captain
Was reported to them, they laughed and said
the advice was good and some one ought to
follow it, but, of course it was out of their
line.

Rats are quick to quit a sinking ship, and
when Bristol Bill seemed doomed, some of
the first to fall away from his side were the
men who had profited most. by the life of
crime he had led.

Slippery Moses, being the man who had
.enerally bought Bristo Bill's plunder when
t had been in such a shape that he could dis-

pOse of it without any trouble, had probably
made more out of the desperado than any
other person, but when he was visited by
Rosamond Kendrickson, who elun steadily
to the rufiian, despite his downfalf, a. paltry
hundred dollars was all he was willing to
contribute toward the fund to get the des-
perado out of his trouble.

And then the moment the woman depart-
ed, he hastened to find Roland Yorke.

Believing that Bristol Bill had come to the
end of his rope he was eager to be on ood
terms with the successful detective o oer,
even though he did an injury to his old pal.

The communication he made to Roland
Yorke was a most lm rtant one and set the. '
9 er detective imme iater to work.

y means of his spies he hadlong ago ” lo-
cated” the woman who for so man years
grid been intimately associated with ristol

ill. '

She resided in a neat little cotta in the
upper part of Brooklyn, New Yor ’s sister '

~—

cxt .

It was a rather out-of-the-way location,
and convenient as a place of retreat for any
of the gang’ecaptained by Bristol Bill when
New York came too hot to hold them.

Through his spies, the detective ascer-
tained that the woman was alone in the
house, all the gang being scattered by Bris.
tol Bill's capture.

Under cover of the night Roland Yorke
made a tri l to Brooklyn and called upon
Rosamond liendrickson.

She was surprised at the visit, particularl
when the detective informed her that he had
come upon some mrticular business.

“ Concerning ristol Bill?" she asked,
anxiously.

“No, about another matter, though he
may be mixed up in it for all I know.

“Well, proceed," she said, after a pause.

” I want a little information.”

The woman laughed harshly.

" Don't you think you have corn. to un
wron shop?” she questioned. “ You haVo
hounded my man to his death, I'm afraid,
and do you think I would do you an]
favor?”

“ Would you rather have me for o foo or
a friend?” the detective asked in his quiot
wa . .
‘ylt doesn't matter much to me whioh you
are,” the woman re lied, defiantly.

“ Oh, don’t it? old out yourwrioh tho-
and let me snap the bracelets on r'

“ What for?

“ You are my prisoner. It was you who

c

.guised as a gentleman.

‘3ce it.

'world for whom I care:

, brief period.

22

~tupplicd the. tools and the weapons to Bris-
tol Bill so that he was enabled to escape
from the Tombs." E

" You can't prove it!" she cried.

“Oh, yes. I can; I knew it was you the
moment I heard of the job. but for the sake 3
of the love my father once had for you I
wouldn‘t press the matter. ;

" I know exactly where you got the tools ‘
and the weapons."

" That accurscd Jew, Slippery Moses, has \
betrayed me!” she cried, white with anger. .

This was not true. for Moses had not '
spoken. 1;

The detective had worked the old trick of E
pretending to know everything and so asccr- E
taiued What he reali y did not know. '

“ Moses is a wise man and would sacrifice I
his own brother to save himself." 1

“ What is it you want?" sheasked, dog- i
gedly. 

" About fifteen years ago you left a baby

irl with an old IrishWoman, and, through ,

loses, remitted the woman a certain sum '
«yiarterly for the care of the child,“ said

orkc, making a bold guess at what the Jew
had declared to be the truth. .

The woman burst into a loud laugh.

“ Is that all?" she crial. “ Well, on are
welcome to that information. The cw dzd i
recognize me. then, althouwh years have I
‘ assed. I had an idea at tie time that he

id. for I was fool enou h to go to him with-
out my face being mu ed up as it was be-
fore. Not that it mattered a pin.

“ Well, about the child?"

“I want to know its history!" Yorke an-
swered. ,

“Oh, you think perhaps that there is a
chance for you to make a stake there! Vi'ell,
there isn‘t.

“ The child is my daughter. and her father
was a cousin of your father. whom I was
fool enough to love when I was young and
green.

“I belieVed his \\’()l'(l.\ of love and became
his victim.

“Frightened at the consequences of his
own passions he fled, and I have never heard
from him since.

“Just a month after his flight, when iii-as
deliberating whether or not to hide my shame
in the river, Bristol Bill came along. dis-

 

“ He fell in love with me, and I. believing
he would forgive, my error, accepted his at-
tentions.

“Then came the explosion that revealml
his true character, and also my shame.

“I was driven out into the world. Iwent '
to Bill and he rotectcd me until mv baby
was born, which hated from the day it came
into the world.

“When the baby was about a. year old.
Bill was arrested and jug'rcd. [struggled
alon for a time, and then determined—as i
saw could not get mv living as long as I
was burdened with a child—to throw it into
the river.

“On the dock my heart weakened, and I
gave it to the iris woman; and have sent
money regularly until the last quarter, when
I came to the conclusion that the brat was
old enough to look out for itself.

“That is all I know about it. [have
never seen the child, and never want to

“I hate it as I hate the miserable father
who mined all my life."

The anxious detective drew a. long breath.
Ills mind was relieved.

He took a wonderful interest in the girl
who had saved him from being eaten by
the rats, and he was very much afraid she
would turn out to be the daughter of the
desperado; it would be awkward, especially
as he was going to do his best to hang Bris-
tol Bill.

" You're right; there isn’t any chance for
a stake there. so that speculation is bu'sted.
But. I say. wouldn‘t you like to see the girl?
She's a good-looking piece of calico, and is
getting along very well."

“ No; what do I care for her? She would
only remind me of what I once was when I
listened to the lies of a smooth-iongued vil-
lain, and. for love of him, hartercd the hap-
piness of a whole life.

“ Bristol Bill is the on] ' soul in the
c has always
treated me well, with the exception of one

 

The genteel Spotter-w

“ Then I jumped into the water, to make
an end of it, and his hand pulled me out.

“ lIe was su )erstitious—believcd that it
was fated we s ould not separate, and we
came together again."

The detective heard and wondered.

Even such a brute as Bristol Bill had some
good traits in his nature.

Yorke departed, feeling decidedly better

3 now that he had solved the mystery sur-

rounding Nan, who, comically, called her-
self the Good—for-uothing.

Ile determined to keep the secret of her
birth a secret still, for the revolution Would
not be beneficial to any one.

lie used his influence to secure the girl a
position in an up-town store, and employed
a motheriy old lady with whom she boarded
to teach her at night. and as she was natur—
ally bright a. few months worked wonders in
the girl who, by such a. strange. chapter of
accidents, had been rescued from the peri-
lous life of the streets.

Nan thought there wasn't such another
man in the world as the detective, and as for
the dog Nip, the black bull—terrier, who
accompanied the girl to her new home, he
became almoat as fond of the young man as
of his mistress.

The chances are 0read that in a few years
Nan will become Eli‘s. Roland Yorke.

Bristol Bill's trial came off in due time and
justice miscarried, for the 'ury brought in a
verdict. that only consigned the murderer to
the State Prison for twenty years.

And Bristol Bill rose in the prisoner's
dock, after sentence was passed. and shook
his fist at the Genieel Spotter, whom be
blamed for his conviction.

“Twenty years is not a lifetime,’ he
cried, in a voice hoarse with passion; “ some
day I will come out, and as sure as there is
a devil in hell, l‘ll have your life, Roland
Yorke!”

V

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a...._..__~....._._.-_u_.x ...._. .. . .. .... ,. .. ..

---¢- ~ wa- ———----—-i—-w

 

gal; l

 

1 A Hard Crowd; or, Gentleman Sam‘s Sister.
B Philip S. Warne. ,

2 Irina Dare-Devil; or, The Winged \\ itch of
the Sea. By (301. P. in raham.

3 Kit Carson, Jr. t e Crack Shot of the
West. Bv Buckskin dun

I 61 (la taln Seatvaif, the Privateer.

I
I

.l The Kidnap er} or.The Great Shanghai of 5

the Northwest. y 1 hilip S. Warne.

5 The Fire-Fiends; or. Hercules, the Hunch-
back. By A. P. Morris.

6 “'iidcat Bob, the Boss Bruiser. By Ed-
ward L. Wheeler.

1

7 Death-Notch, the Destmyer. By Oil Coomes. .

8 The Headless Horseman. By Captain
Mayne Reid.
9 Handy Andi". Bv Samuel Lover.
re

10 Vidocq, the null Police Spy. Written by
Himself

11 Midshipman Easy. By Captain Marryat.
12 The Death-Shot; or, Tracked To Death.
By Captain Mayne Reid.

13 uthaw‘ny; or. Nick Whiffles the old Trap-
}3rer of the Nor‘west. B ' Dr. J. . Robinson.

1 4 loayen dun cgca, the Scourge; or, The War~
E In of the Illohnwks. By Ned Buntline.

15 T e Tiger-Slayer; or, Eagle-Head to the
Rescue. B Gustave Almard.

16 The “'1: te Wizard or.TheGreatPl-ophet
of the Seminoles. B N Buntline.

1 7 Nightshade, the bber Prince of Hounslow
Heath. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

1 S The Sea Bandit ; or. The Queen of the Isle.

B ' N Buntiine.

1 9 léednfedar, the Prairie Outlaw. By Gustave
A ma .

20 The Bandit at Bay; or. The Pirates of the
Prairies. By Gustave Aimard.

21 Tim Trap cr’s Daughter; or. The Out~ .

law's Fate. v Gustave Ailnanl.
2‘2 “'hitelaw; or, Nattie of the Lake Shore.
B Dr. J. H. binson.

Y

‘23 The Red Warrior; or, Stella Delorme‘s
Comanche Lover. By Ned Lurtiine.

‘21 Prairie Flon'er. By G. Aimard.

25 The Gold Guide; or, Steel Arm, the Regu-
lator. By Francis Johnson.

26 The Death-Track or. The Outlaws of the
Mountain. By Francis ohnson.

‘27 Thc Spotter Detective; or. The Girls of
New York. By Albert W. Aiken.

28 Th rcc-Fillgcrcd Jack , the Road-Agent. ot'
the Rockies: or. The Boy Miner of Hard Luck.
Bv J:-.sepll 1'1. Badger. Jr.

‘29 Tiger Dick. the Faro King; or, The Cashier‘s
Crime. By Philip S. Warne.

30 Gosch Geor rc or. Fiery Fred. the Outlaw.

By 030le B. ger. Jr.

:11 Tue New York Sharp; or. The Flashot
Lightning. By Albert W. Aiken. 

32 B hog: of Yale or. The Sci-apes of a. Hard
Set of llc ians. y John D. Vosc.

33 Overlan Kit; or. The Idyl of White Pine.
13 Albert W. Aiken.

34 ocky Mountain Bob the California
Outlaw: or. The Vigilantes of Humbug Bar. By
Albert W. Aiken.

35 Kentuck. the Sport: or. Dick Talbot at
the Mines. By Albert W. Aiken.

36 lujuu Dick or, The Death Shot of Shasta.
By Albert W. A ken.

37 llirl, the Hunchback; or. The Sword-
maker of t e Santoe. By Dr. J. H. RobinsOn.

38 Velvet lland' or,T e iron Grip of Injun
Dick. By Albert ’w. Aiken.

39 The Russian S‘py; or.The Brothers of the
Starry Cross. By Captain Fred. W'hlltukcl‘.

40 The Long Haired “ Pards a” or, The
Tarturs of the Plains. wBy Jon. E. Badm‘r, Jr.

41 Gold Dan ; or. The lie Savage of the Great
Salt. Lake. By Albert W. Aiken.

42 The California Detective or. The Witches
of New York. By Albert W. cm

43 Dakota Dan the Reckless Ranger; or. The
Beo-iluntrrs‘Exculsion. B Oil Coomes.

44 Old Dan Backback.t e Great Extarmina-
tOr; or, The Triangie‘s Last Trail on Coomes.

45 Old Bull’s E e the Lightning shot of the
Plains. 8 Joe. Badger, r.

46 Bowie- nife Ben tthiltle Hunter of the
Narnweet- or. The Exll’es of the Valley of Shad~
Own. By ll Coomes.

47 Pacliic Pete, lll -1'rincco!thc Revolver. By
Joseph E. Badger, Jr. .

48 Ida 0 Tom, the Youn Outlaw of Sliverland;
or. the Hunters oi't'ue \l‘il “'csl. Bv OllCoomes.

49 The Wolf Demon; or. The Queen of the
Ksnawha. B Albert W. Aiken.

 

 

50 v.{yack Bab it, the Prairie Sport: or. The 2

oil Children of the Llano Estacado. By Jon.
15.36%1‘, r.
51 Bed ob, the Boy Road-Agent. By Oil

‘oomes.
52 Death Trailer. the thief of Scouts; or. Lite
.3  Love Si: 3 anufiFofit. By Ruling; Bill. l
a 'ver m or e 'ste f ad'om

cn -. By eol. “lie Sand ’ W ° “

' an or.TheS rti .S rt

he oot-l'n'“. B)’ as. Wilmavo no
55 The, Sea] In" tern. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

56 The lnd an .v.asfwm1; or, The Madman
. en. '

of the Plains. B; A. ‘
57 The Silent Hunter
M stery. By Percy B. St. chn.

or. The Scowi Hall ;

58 S lver Knit‘e; or. “'lcklifle. The Rocky I

Mountain Ranger. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

.59 The Man From Texas; or, The Outlaws
of Arkansas. By A. W. Aiken.

60 Wide Awake the Robber King: or, The
idiot oi the Black Hills. By Frank llumont.

 

  

 

By Ned
un line.
62 Loyal Heart; or, The Trapper-s of Arkansas.
By Gustave Ailnard.

63 The “’ingcd “’haie; or, Red Rupert of
the Gulf. By A. W. Aiken.

64 Double-Sight, the Death Shot: or, The Out-
law ot the Chaparral. By J0s. E. Badger. Jr.

65 The Red Rajah' or The Scourge of the
Indies. By Capt. r. Whitlaker.

66 The S ccter Barqllc. By Mayne Reid.

67 The oy Jockey ; 0r Honesty versus
Crookedness. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

68 The Fighting Trappcr' or. Kit Carson
to the Rescue. By Captain J.  C. Adams.

69 The Irish (‘a tain. ByCapt. F.Whittaker.

70 ll 'drabad, t e Strangler; or, Alethe, the
Ch Id of the Cord. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

71 (‘a tain Cool-Blade; or The Man-Shark
of t 0 Mississippi. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

72 The Phantoln "and; or, The Heiress of
Fifth Avenue. By A. W. Aiken. '

73 The Knio'hts oi‘ the Red Cross; or, The
Magician of'Granada. B Dr. J. 11. Robinson.

74 The Ca tain ot'the idea; or, The Queen
of the La es. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

75 Gentleman George ' or. Parlor, Prison,
Stage and Street. By A.  Aiken.

76 The Queen’s Musketeers; or. Thisbe. the
Princess Palmist. 1'3; George Albany.

77 The Fresh 01‘ risco‘ or. The PL iress of
Bilenaventura. By Albert  Aiken.

78 The Mysterious Spy; or, Golden Feather,
the Buccaneer‘s Daughter. By A. M. (irainger.

79 gaze Phcnlx, the Police S y. 13;: Albert W.

en.

80 A Man of Nerve; or. Caliban, the Dwal 1'.
By Phiii ) S. Warne.

81 The lnnau Tiger; or. A Heart of I-‘ire.
By Albert w. Aiken.

82 Iron Wrist. the Swordnlastcr.
Thomas H0 or Monstery.

83 Gold Bil let S )ort ' or, Thw Knights of the
Overland. By Bl alo Bill.

84 Hunted Down; or, The League of Thwe.
B Albert W. Aiken.

85 he Cretan Rover; or. Zuleikah, the
Beautiful. By Col. Prentiss ingrailam.

86 The Bi lunter; or. The ueen of the
Woods. y the author of “ The- Si ent Hunter."

87 The Scarlet Captain; or, The Prisoner of
the Tower. By COL Ilcllc Sam.

By (‘oloncl

88 Big George, the Giant it the. Gulch: or. The ‘

Five Outlaw Brothers. By Joseph E. Bad er. Jr.
89 The Pirate Prince; or, Putty Ne ly, the
%een of the Isle. By Col. Prentiss ngraham.
90 ild Will, the Mini Ranchcro: or, The Ter<
rible Texans. By Buckskin Sam.
91 The “'iuning Oar; or. The Iltk-reper's
Da liter. B Albert W. Aiken.

92 Ba alo ill, the Buckskin King; or. The
Amazon of the West. ByM . Dangerfield Burr.
93 Ca tain Dick Talbot. m: of the Road;

or e Black-Hoods of Shasta. By A. W. Aiken.

94 F'reelauce, the Buccaneer; or. The Wall of
the Wave. By Col. Prentiss lngrallam.

95 Azhort, the Axman: or. The secrets of tho
Ducal Palace. B Anthony P. Morris.

96 Double-neat ; or. The 8 y Queen of Wyo
nling. By Capt. Fred. Whitt er.

97 Bronze Jack, the California Thoroughbred;
or. The Lost City at the Basaliic Buttes. By
Albert W. Aiken.

98 The. Buck Rider: or, The Spirit of the
Sierra. By (.‘zl t. Frederick Whittaker.

99 The Giant iileman: or, Wild Life. in the
Lumber Regions. By Oil (.‘comes.

100 The French Spy; or. The Bl idc of Paris.

By Anthony P. Morris.

101 The Man From New York ; or, The Ro-

manCe of a Rich Young Woman. Bv Aiken.

102 The Masked Band or. The Man With-

out a Name. By George .. Aiken.

103 Merle, the Mutinccr; or.The Brand of

the Red Anchor. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

104 Montezuma, the Merciless or. The

Eagle and the Serpent. By Col. P. ngraham.

105 Dan Brown at Denver the Rocky Moun-

tain Detective. By Joseph .Bad er. Jr.

106 Shamus O9 Brien, the llould y of .Glin-

(gal: Irish Hearts and Irish Homes. By

e Sara.
107 Richard Talbot 01' Cinnabar; or. The
Brothers of the Red Band. By A. W. Aiken.
1 08 The Duke ofDiamond-l; or. The Flower
of Calcutta. By Ca tain Frederick Whittaker.
109 (‘a tain Kyd, t 9 King ofthe Black Flag;
or. a Witch of Death Castle. By Col. Pren-

tisslngraham.
110 'fihe Silent Bifleman. By Henry W.

er
111 The Smug ler Ca twin; or. The ski
r'll Crime. fiy Ned Buntlinc. p.
112 cc Phenix Private Detectivm or. The
League of the s eleion Kean}. 13y A. W. Aiken.
113 The Sea Slipper %or. e mateur Frec-
booters. By Pro . J. . Ingraham.
114 The Gentleman From Pikc- or. The
Ghost of the Canyon. By Philip‘s. ame.
115 The Newercd Head; or. he Secret of
Castle Com-v. By Capt. . Whittaker.
116 Black Plume, the Devil of the Sea: or.

The. Sorceress of Hell Gate. By Col. Prentiss
lngraham.

l

 

 

1 1 7 Dashing Dandy, thc Hots ul- of the Hills; ‘

or. The Pony Prince‘s Strange

nrd. By Maj.
Dangerfield Burr.

118 The Burglar (‘a tain; or. The Fallen
m. '

Star. ByProf.J.H. ngraha

i

119 Alabama Joe or. The Ymo Man~Hun~
tern. By Joe. E. r. Jr.

120 The Texan Spy; or, The Prairie Guide.
By Newton M.‘Cu is.

1 21 The Sea C‘adet; or, The Rover of the Rigo-
lrtts. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

1 22 Su Ill Sahberday the Idiot Spy; or, Lulionn.
the Seminole. By Ned Buntline.

123 Alapahn, the S uaw ; or. The Renegadrs
of the Border. By ‘rancis Johnson.

124 Assowaum, the A \‘cnger; or, The
boom of the Destroyers. By Francis Johnson.

125 The Blacksmith Outlaw; or. Merry
England. By Harrison Ainsworth.

126 The Dclnon Duelist; or. The League or
Steel. By Col. Thomas Boyer Monster-y.

127 501 Scott, the Maskld Miner; or, Dan
Brown's Double. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

128 The (‘hcvnlicr Corsair; or, The Heli

tage of Hatred. By the author of " Merle the
Mutineer.“

129 Mississilgli Mose ' or. A Strong Man‘s
Sacrifice. y Edward Willett.

130 (‘aptain Volcano or, The Manofthe Red
Revolvers. By A. W. iken.

131 Buckskin Sam, the Texas Trailer; or, The
Pundits of the Bravo. By Col. P. lngraham.

132 Nemo, King of the Tramps or.The.
Roman Girl‘s Vengeance. By Capt. t‘l'lt'k
Whitta 'el'.

133 Body the Rover the Ribbonman of Ire-
land. By William ("ar eton.

1 34 Darkie Dan, the Colored but: ctive; or, The
MiBSiSRlppl Mystery. By Col. P. Ingraham.

13.3 The Bush Rangcr‘ or, The Hall-Breed
Brigade. By Francis Jo neon.

136 The Outlaw-Huntersor, Red John, the
Bush Ranger. By Francis ohnson.

137 Long Beard, the Giant S y; or, Hap r

Harry, the Wild Boy of the oods. By 8h

Coomes

1 38 The Border Bandits: cr, The Rorsc-
Thief’s Trail. By Francis Johnson.

1 39 Fire-Eye, the Sea Hyena; or. The Bride of
a Buccaneer. By (‘01. Prentiss In rsham.

l 40 The Three Spaniards. Bv  Walker.

14 1 Equinox Tom, the Bully of Red Rock; or.

Dan Brown‘s Masterstrokc. By Joseph. E.

Badger. Jr.

1 1‘2 d‘aptain Crimson, the M n ottbe imn
Face; or, The Nemesis oi' the aim-z By Maj.
Dangerfield Burr.

1 ~13 'l‘he (izar’n S )y: or, The Nihilist Ll agile.

By Col. T. H, l onstery.

14-1 The Hunchback of None-Dame.
1:; Victor Hugo.

145 into] Pards or. Soft Hand, the. Silent
S ort from (.‘inna r. By Wm. R. Eyster.

146 The Doctor Detective ; or, The 11‘ stery
of the Golden Collin. By Geo e Lemuel.

147 Gold 8 ur the Gentleman rom Texas' or
The Chid o the Regiment. By 091. l’ren-
tiss Ingraham.

148 One-Armed Air the Giant Hunter of the
Great Lakes. B Oll (homes.

1 49 The Border ities. By Gustave 'Aimard.

l 50 E1 Bubio BraVo, King of the Swordx‘men:
or. The Terrible Brothers of Tabasco. By
Col. Thomas Hoyer Monstery.

1 5 1 The Freebooters. By Gustave Aimard.

152 Captain lronnervc, the Permit rreitrr

Chief; or. The Gipsy Queen’s Legacy. By
Marmaduke buy.

153 'I‘hc “’hite Scalper. By Gustave Ailnard.

154 Joaquin, the Saddle King. ByJou-ph E.

er. Jr.
155 The t‘orsuir neon; or, The (lipsics of
the Sea. Br Col. miss Ingraham.

1 56 Velvet Face, the Border Bravo: or. Muriel,
the Danitc‘s Bride. By Dangerne d Burr.

157 Mourad, the Mamelukeg‘or.'i‘lle Three
Swordmastels. By (‘01. Thomas H. Monstery.

158 The Doonu-d Dozen; or. Dolores. the
Danitc‘s Daughter. By Dr. Frank Powell.

159 Bed Rudiger, the Archer- or The Lady
Berthn‘s Treachery. By Ca it. ‘F. hittaker.

160 Soil "and, sharpéeor. e Man \\ ilh the
Sand. By Wnl. R. Eys r.

161 Thc. “ olvcs of New York; or. Joe
Phcnix‘s Great .‘lnn Hunt. By A. W. Allie n.

162 The Mad Mariner; or. Dishonmed and
Diana ned. By Col. Prertim ingraham.

163 Ben Brion, the Tmp >er Ca taint or. Red-
‘sth. t e Avenger. By Dr. J. . Robinson.

164 he King’s Fool or. The- Knights of the
Clasped Hands and R81 l’ranch. By C. D.(.'lark.

165 Joaquin, the Terrible. By J. E. Badger. Jr.

166 Owlct, the Robber Prince; or. The Unknown
Highwman. By 8 plilnus R. Urban.

167 T c an ofStecl or, The Masked Knight
of the White. Plum“. A. P. Morris. ‘

168 “'ild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot: or. Dagger
Don‘s Double. By 001. Prentiss in ham.

169 Corporal ('annun. the Manet on.) Duels.
By Col. Thomas Boyer Monstery.

170 Sweet William, the. Trapper Detective,-
or. The (:‘Ibiet of lhe Crimson Clan. By Joe. E,
Badger, r.

1'71 Tiger Dick, the Man of the iron Heart: or,
The Dumb Bandit. By Philip 8. Wame.

172 The Black Pirate; or. The I tel-y of
the Gal 'en Fem-rs. By ('01. P. ingrsam.

178 California John, the Pacific Thrrongh-
bred. By Albert W. Aiken.

.4 mo tame every ii'edneaday.
Beadlo’s Dime Library is for sale in all
hewsdealers, ten cents per copy. or «out by on
of twelve cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS}

is, 98 William Street. New York.

l

 

W...— ,A_ .. ._._. . .. 1,.
.____.. _

 

174 T119 Phantom Knights. By Capt. F.

W I er.
1 75 \Vild Bill’s Trulnp Card or. The Indian
lleirers. By Major Dangerfield Burr.
1 76 Lady Ja uar, the Robber Queen. By Cap-
177 tain Mark ilton.

Dun Diablo, the Planter-Corsair; or, The
Rivah of the Sea. By Col. Prentiss ingraham.

1 78 Du rk Dani-wood, the. Desperate; or, The
Child of the Sun. By lliajorliarn S. Hall.

1 79 i‘ourad. the Convict; or, Was He Guilty? '

Proi. Stewart Gildersiceve, LL. 1).

180 0 d ’49; or. The Amazon of Arizona. By
Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

181 The Scarlet Schooner; or. The Nemesis
of the Sea. By Col. Prentiss lngraham

l 82 Hands I");3 or, The Knights of the Canyon.

Hv Wm B. yntcr.

183 Gilbert, the Guide; or. Lost in the Wi-
deruess. By C. Dunning Clark.

18-1 The Ocean Vam ire; or, The Heiress of
Castle Curse. BV Co . Prentiss lngraham.

1 85 The Man Spider; or, The Beautiful Sphinx.
By Anthony 1. Moms.

186 The Black Bravo; or. The Tonkaway‘s
Triamgl; Bv Buckskin Ram.

187 The eath’s llcad Cuira ssh-rs; or.
Brave of all Braves. By Capt. Fred Whittaker.

1 88 The Phantom M azeppa; or, The Hwna
of the Cha arrals. By Ma . Dangerfield or.

189 Wild Iii I’a Gold Tra l; or. The Desper-
ado Dozen. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

190 The Three Guardsmen. By Alexandre

Dumas.

191 The Terrible Tonkaway ; or. Old Rocky

nd His Portia. By Buckskin Sam.

192 ' he Lightning 8 ort' or The Bad Men
at Slaughter Bar. By an. . yster.

193 The Man in Red; or The Ghost of the
Old Guard. By Capt. Frederick \vmmm-r.

19-1 Don Sombrero,ihe California Road G.ul;

or. The Three Men of Mount Tabor. By Capt.

Mark Wilton.

195 The Lone Star Gambler; or, The Maid
L! the Mtuznolias. Bv Buckskin Sam.

190 La Marlnonet the Detective Queen' or,
The Lost HSIr or Morel. By Albert w. Aiken.

197 Revolver Bob, the Red-Handed; or, The.-
B lie of Nugget Camp. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

198 The Skeleton: Schooner; or. The Skim
mei‘ of the Sea. Bv (‘oi Prentiss Ingraham.

199 Diamond Dick, the Dandy from Denver.

Buckskin Sam.

200 he Rifle Rangers; or, Adventures in
South"rn Mexico. By Mayne Reid

201 The Pirate of the P acorn; ongoaquin‘s

r

Death Hunt. By JosephE. r. .

202 Cactu- Jack, the Giant Ga «3' or. The
Masked Robbers of Black Bend. ByCaptain
Mark Wilton.

203 The Double Detective; or, The Midnight
My . ByvAibcrt W. Aiken.

20-1 Bi oot allace, theKin of the Lariat;
or lid Wolf. the Waco. By uckskin 8am.

205 The Gambler Pirate; or. Bessie. the
Lady of the Lagoon. By Co . P. .

206 One Eye, the Cannoneer; or Marshal Ney's
Luv Legacy. By Cipt. Fred. hittaker.

207 Old Hard Head gpgr. Whirlwind and His
Milk-white Mare. By S. Warns.

208 The White Chief.

209 Back Farley the Bonanza Prince' or. The
Enhance of Deaeh Gulch. By Edward Willett.

210 Buccaneer Beau the Lioness or the Sea;
or, The Red Sea Trail. By Col. P. lngraham.

211 l‘olouei Plan or or. TheUnknownSport.
Bv Ca it Frederic ttaker. '

2.12 The. razol Ti era; or the MlnuteMen
of Fort Belknap. ,v Bucks}: 11

Sam.

213 The War Trail; or. The Hunt of the Wild
Horse. By Capt. Ma no Reid.

214 The Two Cool . ports; or, Gertie of the
G ch. By Wm.R.Eyster.

215 Parson Jim, King of tlze Cowboys: or.
The Gentle Shepherd 3 Big “Clean Ou ." By
Ca tain Frederick Whittaker.

216 T e Corsair Planter; or, Driven to
Doom. By CoL Prentiss lngraham.

217 The Serpent of El Pano; or, Frontkr
Frank, the Scout oi the Rio Grande. By Buck-

skin Sam.

218 The Wild lluutren; or, The Bit.r Squat-
ter‘l Vengeance. By Ca t. Mayne Reid.

219 The scorpion Brot tern: or, Mad Tom‘s
Mission. By Captain Mark Wilton.

220 The Sgecter Yacht; or, A Brother‘s
Crime. y 001. Prentiss Ingraham.

221 De: rato Duke, the Guadaloage “Ga-
loot; ‘ or. The Angel of the Alamo ‘ty. By

uckskin Sam

‘ B .
222 BIN, the Blizzard or, Red Jack's Double
- ' Crime.

By Edward W' lett.

223 Can on Dave, the Man of the Mountain;
or, Toughs of Silver Spur. By Captain
Mark Wilton.

224 Black Beard, the Bucoaneer: or, The

(.‘urse of the Cost. By Col. P. Ingra run.

225 Book Mountain Al; or, Nag etNeLi. the
Wait 0 the Rang». By Buckskin gun.

226 The llad "IIWI'I; or, The 0's and the
Mac's. y Ca it. hittaker.

227 Buckshot on, the Man-Hunter of Idaho;
or, The Cactus Creek Tragedy. By Capt.
Mark \Vilton.

228 The Maroon. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

229 (la itain Cut-lactic or. Tonch—Mo-Not. the

Litt a Sport. By Wm. Eystcr.

230 The Fiyvirg Dutchman of 1880; or,
Who was
Whittaker.

andardocken. By Capt. Frederick

A  v  L a E

 

 

 

El;

231 The Kid Glove Miner; or, The Magic
DOctor of Golden Gulch. By lngraharn.

232 Orson 03x, the Man of Iron; or, The River

Mystery. By lsanc Hawks.

'I‘ to Old Boy of Tombstone; or,

Dr J. 1'}. Bad er.

‘1 The Huntern’ Feast. By Mayne Reidg.

285 lied Lightning, the Man of Chance; or.
Hash times in Golden Uulch. By (‘oL Prentiss
lngraharn.

236 (‘lram ion Sam ; or. The Monarchs o! the

Show. ' Col. '1‘. H. Monstery.

Long-1 aired Max ; or. The Black League

of the Coast. By Capt. M. Wilton.

flank Hound, tie Crescent City 

live; or, The Owls of New (lrhans. By An-

thony P. Morris.

239 The. Terrible Trio ; or, 'llu~ Angel of the
Army. B Buckskin Sam.

2-10 .1 (‘ool lead; or. Ul‘bOn Oxx in Peril. By
Isaac Hawks.

241 Spitfire Saul, King of the Bustiers; or.

con Dixie‘s Grand "Roumi-l‘p." By Jon.

ker. Jr.

212 The For: Devil; or, The Skipper of the
Flash. B Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

243 The Pl rim Shar ° or, The Soldier's
Siva-then . ilv Brtflaioaiiil.

24-1 Merciless Mart, the. Man-Tiger of Mis-

souri: or, The Wall of the Flood. By Buck-

skin Sum.

Hurranca Bill, The Revolver Champion;

or, T he Witch of the Weeping Willows. lly

Captain Mark Wilton

240 Queen Helen, the Amazon oi‘ the Over-
land' or, The Ghouls of the Gold Mines. lly
Col. Prentiss lngrnham.

2-17 Alligator lkc; or. The Secret of the Eve!“
iade. By Capt. 1 red. Whittaker.

2-18 . ontana Nat. the Lion of Last Chance

249 Elephant or. Your

Camp. By Edward Willett.
' ‘OIn of Duranro:
Golddlnst or Your Life. By Jos. FL Badger, Jr.

250 The Rough Riders; or, Sharp-Eye, the
Seminole Scourge. By buckskin Barn.

251 Tiger Dick vs. Iron Dcspard; or.
Every Man 11er His Match. By P. S. Warne.

252 The “fall Street Blood; er. Tick Tick,the
'i‘e‘egra 'i Girl. .va Albert W. Aiken.

253 A You ee ( 'ossaek; or, The Queen of the
Nihilists. l‘)‘ (‘ztptu Fret crlck \Vbittaket‘.

25-1 Giant Jake, the l’atrol (.f the Mountain.

Newton 31. Curtis.

255 he Pirate Priest; or, The Planter Gain»
bler's Daughter. By ('ol. Prentiss Ingraham.

256 Double Dan. the Dnstard; or, The Pirates
of the Pecan By Buckskin Sam.

25'] Death-Trap Dizginus or. A Hard Man
from ‘Wav Back. By Josop l E. Badger. Jr.

258 Bullet Head, the. Colorado Bravo; or, The

Prisoners of the Death-Vault. By Captain

Mark Wilton.

259 Cutlass and Cross or. The Ghouls of the
Se'a. l; 021. Prentiss ngmharn.

260 The . asked Myst“? ; or. The Black

Crescent. By Anthony P. orris.

Black Sam, the Prairie Thunderbolt; or.

The Bandit-Hunters. By Col. Jo Yul’dii.

202 Fighting Tom, the Terror of the Toughs.

By Col. Thomas Boyer Monatery.

Iron-Anncd Abe, he Hunchback [>11-

stroyer; or. The Black lders’ Terror. By

Captain Mark Wilton;

264 The Crooked Thrcc§ or, The Black
Hearts of the Gaudaiupc. y Buckskin Sam.

265 Old Double-Sword or Pilots and Pi-
rates. By Capt. Fred. W tta er.

266 Leo mrd I. aim, the King of Horse-Thieves;
or, T e Swamp Squattcr's Doom. By Captain
Mark Wilton.

267 The \1'hite Squaw. lly Capt. Mayne Reid.

268 Magic Mike, the Man (i' Frills; or. Bad
Ben‘s Bad Brigade. By William. R. Eyeter.

209 The [In on Bravo ; or, The Terrible Trail.
11y Bucks in Sam.

270 A ndrou, the Free Rover; or, The Pirate's

Daughter. lly Ned Buntlinc.

Stout-lint, oi” Elli: Nugget "end; i r. (dd

Ketchum‘s ’l‘u; of \\ an 115' Capt. Mark \\ ilton.

272 Seth Hlocurn Railroad Sur‘Yr-"or‘ or, The
Secret. of Sitting Bull. 33' Capt. F. rittalmr.

273 Mountain Mose the Gorge Outlaw; or.
Light Horse Leon’s rim. Fights for Life. By

Buckskin Sam.

Flush Fred the Ml<sissi lpi Sport: or,

Tough Times in > unrest-cu l y Ed \‘fillctt.

275 The Smuggler- (Tuttcr; or, The Cavern in
the Cliff. lii' J. I). t‘onroy.

276 Texas Chick, the Southwest Detective' or,

v 'l‘irrcr Lily, the Vulture Queen. By Captain
Mark Wilton.

27"] The, Nancy Jane, Privateer” or The
Hunting: of Old Irons] dea. By Capt edcrick
Whittaker.

278 Herculean Goldi- tur, the Man at the Velvet
Hnn'l; or, The Po er Queen’s Drop Came.
liy Captain Howard Holmes.

279 The Gold-Dragon}; or. the California.-
Bloodhound. By '\\ Ln. . Manning.

280 Black-Hons Ben; or, Tiger Dick‘s Lone
Hand. By Philip S. W aruc.

281 The Sea Owl ; or. The Lady Captain oi’ the
Gulf. By Col. Prentiss ingrah'tn

.5
i
l.

W agering a Life on a Card.

24

C1

261

263

271

274

 -+

it:

 

282 The Merciless Marauders; or, Chap—
arral Carl’s Revenge. By Buckskin Sam.

283 Sleek Sam, the Devil (if the Mines; (r, The
Sons of the Fury Cross. By Joe. E, Badger. Jr.

284 The Three Frigates; or, 01d Ironsidrs'

Revenge. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

Lightninf: Bolt, the (‘an on Terror; or.

The Monnta n Cat‘s Grudge. y Mark Wilton.

286 Pistol Johnn : or. One Man in 0. Thou-

sand. By Josep l E. badger, Jr.

Dandy Dave and Ills Horse. WhiteStoc-k-

ing; or, Ducats or Death. By Buckskin Sam.

Electro Pete, the Man of Fire: or The

Wharf Rats of Locust Point. By A. 1’. Home.

289 Plush Fred’s Full "and or. Life and.
Strife in Louisiana. By Edward illett.

290 The lm-t l‘orvettcé or, Blakeley‘s Last
Cruise. liy i‘npt. Fred. \‘hittnker.

llorseulim- flank the Man of Big Luck;

or. 'rht- Gold Brick or" Idaho. ByCapt. Mark

Wilton. '

292 Moke llorner, the Boss Ronstabout' or,
The lt‘resh-Water Sharks oi the Ovc ow.
By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

293 Stampede Steve; orI The Doom of the

Double Face. liy Buckskin 8am.

Broadcloth Bu rt. the Denver Dandy; or.

The Thirty Pards of Deadwood. By Captain

Howard Holmes.

Old Cross-Eye, the Maverick-Hunter: or,

The Night Riders of Satanla County. By

Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

296 Duncan, the Sea; Diver; or. The Coast
Vultures. By George St. George.

297 Colorado Rube, the. Strong Arm of Hot-

Eur Citv; or, The Giant Brothers of Buzzanl‘s

'mst. By Wm. H. Manning.

Logger Lem; or. Life and Peril in the

Pine Woods. By Edward Willett.

299 Three of a Kind. Tiger Dick. Iron Des-
pard, and the Sportive Sport. By 1’. e. Warnc.

300 .1 Sport in finer taclcn; or. The Bad Time

at. Bunco. By Wm. R. Eystcr.

Boulder run; or, The Man born Taos

By Buckskin Sam. >

Faro Sn u I, the Handsome Hercules' or, The

Grip of Stool. By Joseph E. Badger. r.

303 Top-Notch Tom, the Cowboy Outlaw; or.
The Satanstown Election. By Cant. Whittaker.

30-1 Texas Jack the Prairie Rattler: or. The
Queen of the Wild Riders. lly Buil‘alo BiiL

Silver-Plated 801, the Montana Rover' or.

Giant Dave‘s ram With Himself. By Capt.

Mark Wilton.

300 The Bought: of Richmond; or, The
Mystery of the Golden Beetle. By Anthony P.
,Morris.

307 The Phantom Pirate; or, The Water
Wolves of the Bahamas. By 00L inn-sham.

Hemlock Hunk, To h and True; or.

The Shadow of Mount Kata 16111. By Edward

\Villett.

309 naybold, the Battling Ranger? or.
Old Rocky‘s Tough Campaign. i y luck—
skin Ham. ,

310 'l he Marshal orSatanstown
Lea e oil the Cattle- Litters.
Fntt'i'ick Whittakt r.

285
287

288

291

294

295

298

301
302

305

308

or The
5‘ Capt,

311 llcav Hand, the Relentless; or. The
Market Men of Paradise Gulch. 1y Capt.
Mark Wilton.

312 Kinkioot Karl The Mountain Scourge;
or, Wiping Out the re. By MorrisRcdwing.

313 Mark Magic, Detective. ByA. P. Morris.

31-1 Lafitte or. The Pirate of the Gulf. l’y
Prof. J. . 1113121180.).

Fl nah Fred’s Double; or The Squat-
ter’s League of Six. By Edward Willem
Lailttc-‘s Lieutenant; or Theodore, the
Child of the Sea. By Prof. J. ii. lazraham.

Prank Lizhtfoot the Klarr Detective;

or, Following a Blind Lead. RV J. E. Badger.

318 The Indian Buccaneer or. Red Rovers
on Blue Waters. ByCol.Pren ins Ingmham,

31 9 \1’iid Bill, the Whirlwind of the West; or,
The gut-11;:qu Bravos of the Black am By
0 .

3201110 Gentoel Spotter or The B ht
Hawks of New York. By Airmen. use?

321 California Claude, the Lone Dealt By
Captain Howard Holmes.
By with

322 The Crimson Coyotes.
Sam.

323 Hotunur "a h, the Will-o'-tho-"h; or.
The Banded 171 (1'9 of the Giant‘- Lin. 1 y
Captain Mark Wilton.

324 Old Forked-Lightning, the W:
or, Every Inch 3 Man. By Jon. R 1m. 1:.

.‘i raw two every Wednesday.

Beadic‘u Dune Library is tor It). Cy all
Newsdeah-rs, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on
receipt ( f tw. lve cents each. BEADLIGM
i l‘trblirlwrr. 93 William Street. New York.

315
816
317