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T _+ INYISlllLE HAND.

The Romance 0' an Implacable Mission.

BY ALBERT \V. AIKEN,

AUTHOR OF “ THE ACTOR DETECTIVE,” “JO!
PHENIX, THE POLICE SPY,” ETC.

 

 

CHAPTER I.
THE DRESS REHEARSAL AT NIBLO’S.

IT was a Monday night. about eight o’clock,
and Broadway, New York Cll}“.\‘ great street,
was, as usual at this hour, well-filled with people,
but the famous old theater, known as Nihlo’s
Garden, which about. this time is generally one
blaze of light, appeared dark and deserted.

The theater-goers who ought to be flocking in
to the gorgeous temple of amusement were not
on hand—only a few strangers, who peered
wistfully in at the entrance and perused the
announcement which said:

“This theater will be closed on Monday night for a
grand dress rehearsal of the great

HE CRIED, "HE HAS ATTEMPTED Frencn drama
TO MURDER MR. MORTIMER!" ‘L O G A D E R  ”

«A A A“ \izt


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2

The Actress Detective.

 

 

This was set forth in brilliantrhued letters, so I

that “ he who runs mav read.”

It is a rare thing to close a theater on Monday
night, universally regarded as one of the best
paying nights in the week, but in this case it
had to be done, for although the play had been
originally billed to be presented on this i articu-
lar Monday night, yet when Saturday came it
was found that it could not be possibly got
ready, so the rformance was given up and a
dress rehearsa substituted.

The mana ers of the company who were to

resent the p ay were a couple of Jewish specu-

tors known as the Bolosso Brothers, who made
a business of producing theatrical entertain-
ments of the kind technically called “ spec-
tacular,” where the scenery, music, ballet and
such-like features, which up aled strongly to
the eye, are more depends upon to attract
an audience than the merits of either the play
or the actors.

On this particular occasion the only audience
that wars to witness the rehearsal consisted of
twenty-five or thirty people, who were seated in
the parquette, critics and personal friends of the
management of the house, or [he Bolossos.

The curtain was up and the stage brilliantly
illuminated, but the front of the house was dark,
only a single light here and there being lit so
that it was possible for anyone to find their way
from the front offices to the stage.

Behind the footligbts all was bustle and confu—
sion, the stagecnrpenters were busy arranging
the scenery, “property-men” were running to
and fro, and the performers, arrayed in their
costumes, were lounging in the “ wings,” as the
side entrances are technically called, congre-
gated in little groups at the foot of the stage.

A dress rehearsal is a rather rare thing and
seldom takes place unless under peculiar circum-
stances.

In the present case as the play could not be -

got ready for production on this particular
night, the dress rehearsal was given more for an
advertisement than anything else.

The critics who were to compose the main
part of the audience, were expected to go away
and write a glowing account of the affair for the
morning newspapers, and in order to stimulate
the imagination of these sons of genius, an ex-
cellent lunch, flanked with an ample supply of
champagne, had been provided inn private room
in the front of the house.

A dress rehearsal is popularly supposed to be
the same as a performance, but it isn’t.

True, the performers are all arrayed in cos-
tume, but the prompter’s table is on the stage,
down on the prompt side, by the footlights, where
it is out of the way, with chairs for the man-
ager, stage-manager and prompter, and as the
performance goes on it is stopped from time to
time, whenever one of the men in authority
thinks that a suggestion can be made which will
lead to an improvement.

The rehearsal was called for eight, sharp, and
at a quarter before that time, about all the per-
formers were ready, but the scenery was not.

The Bolosso Brothers, two little, dark-skinned
nervous men, with countenances which plainly
betrayed that they came of the old Hebrew race,
ware dancing up and down ‘in a great state of

' excitement.

Moses Bolosso, as the elder of the two was
named, and “ mein brudder, Yacob,” as he
usually termed the younger, Were quite a con-
trast to the placid manager of the theater, a

ood t pe of the Anglo-Saxon race, who satin
gin p vate box with a party of friends, taking
thin s easy.

“ ine ootness, dose carpenters vill drive
me vild!” oses exclaimed.

- The stage-hands were “ setting " the great
scene of the prologue, with which the play he-
, the fosse of the Chateau DeCaylus. the
scene in the prologue, where the hero of the
playjethe adventurer, Logadere, with the child
of Nevers in his arms, cuts his way through
a horde of rufilans and gains, the wall of the
most; the ca nters were not working as brisk-
ly as the brot are thought they ought to, but as
they already had had some severe es-at—
arms with the master carpenter, a veteran who
knew his business and promptly told the specu-
lators so, they did not think it wise to say any-
thing openly, but swore choice oaths in three or
four languages under their breath.

Just as the scene was made ready the elder
brother caught sight of a ntlemanwho had
just made his appearance in a first right hand
entrance. .

He was a handsome fellow, a little abOVe the
medium be' ht, splendidly formed and with a
frank, open ace, one of those calculated to win
favor at a glance: he had regular features, fine]
cut; 111! eyes were a deep, dark brown, whic_
appeared to be black a short distance off; his
hair was the same bus and a silken mustache
of a similar color shaded his handsome, firm-set,
resolute mouth. .

The brilliant cavalier dress which he wore was
extremely becomin , and he looked every inch a
hero as he appear in the entrance.

This was the leading actor of the combination,

as Mortimer. b name, the Logadere of the
phy and minus y regarded as one of the
pod promisinglactors of thovday. ‘ . .

?‘~ in ' "

i' (we

  

 

‘,I

The elder brother perceived the young actor
and beckoned to him.

“ V’ot you t’ink of dot set, hey?” Moses Bo-
losst) exclaimed, pointing to the scene.

“ Very good, indeed, very well painted and
well set,” the actor replied.

“ Mine brudder Yacob got dot up!” the specu-
lator exclaimed with pride. “ You never saw
as not a Set as dot before, hey?”

ow the actor was an inveterate joker and
above all things he liked to chaff the two bro-
icrs.

“ Oh, come now, that is saying a good deal!”
he responded. “ You ought to have seen the
set that I had the first time I played Logadere,
almost ten years ago; we called the piece the
Duke’s Motto then.”

“ Vas dot set better dan dis?”

“Oh, my goodness, yesl”

“ Vhere wasdot?”

“At the Grand Opera House in Mudhole,
Colorado. I painted the scene myself and it
was a daisy, I tell you! When I got on the
ramparts my head was a foot above the sky
border, and I had to hold the sky up "with the
pointnof my sword so the audience could see my
face.

“ Ah, yesh, dot must hate been a great set!”
the speculator sncercd. “ A great performance,
too, no doubt. You hit ’em hard, hey, they
covered the stage mit flowers und called you
omit!”

“ Oh, the audience was very enthusiastic.
When the duke’s men appeared and barred my
passage to the moat, one big miner in front
jumped up and offered to lend me his revolver
so I could clean out the ‘ hull gnng,’ as be ex-
pressed it. Oh, he was full of enthusiasm—and
whisky. It took six men to put him out, and
the light I had on the stage wasn’t a marker to
the one that went on in front. and as to being
called out, I had to answer three calls.”

“ Mine gootncss, is dot so?”

“ Yes, the first call was by the town marshal
who wanted the license money' the second by
the bill-poster after ducavs, and the third by the
orchestra, the piano-player, who declared he
would not play another note until he got his
money.”

By this time the brothers had made the dis-
covery that the actor was poking fun- at them,
and the elder growled; ,

“ You ought to hafe been a comedian, Mister
Mortimer; you vas too funny.”

" Oh, no, I’m only funny oti’ the stage; still a.
great many comedians are troubled that way,”
the actor replied.

At this point the call boy made his appearance
at the prompt table.

“ A arty at the back door wants to speak to
you, r. Mortimer,” the boy announced.

“ Oh, I’m busy now."

“Old Mike said you had better come. as be
guessed as it was something important,” the boy
remarked.

This wasa rare message to come from the
aged keeper of the stage-door, whose business it
had been for years to discoura e all applicants.

“ All right! I will come. ow much time
have I got?” the actor asked of the elder bro-
t er.

“ We will go ahead in ten minutes if dose car-
penters will get through,” Moses Bolosso
growled with a 00k at his watch.

“ Oh, I guess the will be ready; they are on
the first scene now, ’ the actor remarked, and
then made his way to the back door of the thea-
ter, the entrance used by all the stage peo le.

Asarule, the old doorkeeper never a lowed
any one but those connected with the stage to
pass him, compelling all who wished to speak
with those in the theater to remain right at the
back door, but on this occasion he had departed
from his regular rule, for Mortimer found the
pe son who craved speech with him on the inner
passage. ‘

It was a woman, plainly dressed, and with an
odd, peculiar face.

She was a tall girl of twenty-five, or there-
abouts, with a fine figure, well developed; her
face was a long oval, the complexion colorless.
atnd lib? firm-set morath, witltil its thin lips and
s rong mes, gave evn once t at sh possessed
uncommon resolution. 6

Her eyes were rather small, and were of a
peculiar color; they Were ra yet had the
prgiert of appearing to be t k at times.

or air was strange, too; it was an odd,
light shade of yellow, and curled in little ring-
lets all over her head, more like a man’s hair
than a. woman’s, and in fact the whole appear-
ance of the girl was decidedly masculine.

“ Pardon my disturbing you,” she said, when
the actor appeared, in a well-modulated voice,
whose tones were rather hard and harsh,
though, “but I could not help doing so. -Do
you remember inc—Hilda Serene l" -

 

CHAPTER II.
“rr I8 AN‘ILL WIND wnicn snows nosonv
GOOD.”
THE young actor gaud'with a look of curiosity
into the face of theglrl before he replied.
“ so,” he said, after a slight pause, “your
fan/o is 

 

    

 

‘ your name, also, al-

though for the moment I cannot recall just
when and where I met you.”

“ Do you remember the Grand Opera House
in Mudhole, Colorado?"

“ Most certainly 2”

“ You came there to play a star engagement
of a week with the Chit-ago Comedy Com any,
and opened in the Duke’s Motto, playing ga-
dcre. Just as you are gomg to play it here.”

“Oh, yes, I remember the circumstance per-
fectly well. I was speaking about it to the

! Bolosso Brothers only a few moments ago.”

“1 was in the company, and played Blanche
De Caylus With you; but I only played the first
night. f0!’ I was promised some money—4 had
not received but a couple of dollars in three
weeks—and as the manager did not keep his
word—he was insolent, tOo, when I reminded
him of his promise, into the bargain—I went
away, as I had a Chance to better myself.”

“ Ah, yes, yea, I remember you now, and re-
member, too, what a precious row the manager
kicked up the next day _when he discovered that
you were among the. missing. He admitted to
me that he was afraid to give you any money,
for fear you would leave. and calculated to
keep you penniless, so as to be able to retain
you. The scoundrell I had, myself, to go on a,
strike almost every night, to get any money out
of him.”

“ Yes, he was a rascal, because when he had
money he would not pay. There is some excuse
for a man’s not paying when he cannot possibly
get hold of the money, but none for the man
who can pay.”

“Yes, he was a first—class fraud! W0“. hm"
have you been all this time?” the young actor
asked, kindly.

Somehow e felt attracted and interested in
the girl, although she was almost a stranger. It
was not her beauty, for she was not at all beau-
tiful, but there was something magnetic about
her which was strangely attractive. If there
bdll not been, she never would have been able to
get by the old back-doorkeeper, armed with no
better excuse than a desire tospeak to one of
the actors.

“ \Vell, I have managed to live, and that is
about all I can say,” she replied, with a sad
smile.

“ But, if I remember rightly, you dis layed
considerable talent for the stage; your ‘ B anche
De Caylus’ was a good performance.”

“ Yes, I got through it all right, but I don’t
really believe I have improved any in all these
years. I am just the same as I was then, when

was a girl of eighteen, a fair, general actress,
who can be depended upon for t e words. I am
pretty sure to get through any part for which 1
am cast, but I am one of those unfortunate-5 who
will never make any name upon the stage, I
fear; quite different from yourself, you know,
for you have risen to the front rank.” _

“ True, almost a star, if not quite one,” the
young actor replied, with a smile.

“ I suppose you will think me hold and pre-
sumptuous, for I have come to ask a favor of
you on the strength of our slight acquaintance.
I would not do it if I could help myself, but ,I
cannot.”

“ Under the circumstances, then, you are ex-
cusable,” Mortimer remarked allantly. .

“ I arrived in New York on y about an hour
ago,” she explained. ” I haye been with a com-
pany which started from Chicago, and played
to dreadful bad busmess, as far as Buffalo,
and there we burst up. The manager ran
away, andI was left. penniless, almost. I left
my trunk as securit for in board at the
hotel, and the landlori , a kind- earted German,
advanced the money enough to come to New
York. and when I got here, the first thing I
saw after getting out of the boat was vour name
on a bill: the remembrance of how I met you
in Colorado at once flashed upon me, an
made up my mind to come and see you. for I
thought that it was issible that you could get
me something to 0 here. I do not care
what it is, you know, nor how small the sal-
ary], f3r I am desperame in need of something

( o.

Mortimer shook his head.

“ I am very
anything for you here, not at present, 15 any
rate, for all the people are enga ed; b some
of them may not ive satisfaction, and there,
may be changes in t 9 cast. I will speak to the
stage-manager who is an old friend of mine.
about you, and ask him to make a place for you
if changes are made.” ”

“ Oh, thank on, I am ever so much oblisl’dfi
the irl excla ed, ratefully. “ If you W 1
only so kind, I wil try to return the service
if it is ever in my power,”

 Oh, that is all right. I am always sled *0
speak a good word for any one whom I know to
be deserving of it.”

“ Much obliged.” -
thirdL the actress made a movement asif to

de
‘ Hold on a moment] You have not given
me your address, so I will know wings. to send
afteiityou in case anything comes up. .
“ y address l” And the woman smileu.
“ Upon my .word, I don’t know where I shall go! .
I am without friends in the city, for I have”

     
 

   

.g-I: 
‘.i‘:»i ‘

much afraid that I cannot do i

l

 

 

- k a.-- r:

 

The Actress Detective.

3

 

 

I
been in New York for five years, and then I had “Mine gootness, Mister Mortimer, v’ot a

a furnished room witha lady
same company with me, until we both got en-
gagements."

“ Will you excuse me if I remark that I
don’t suppose you have any more money than
you know what to do with,” Mortimer said,
gently. .

“ Oh, yes, it is the truth. A single dollar is
all I have in the World,” the actress replied with
a sadsmile. “ I have a few little articles of
jmvelry which I can pawn.”

“ Say, do you mind if I give you a line to the
boarding-house lady where lsto i?” the young
actor exclaimed impulsively. “ tisaregular
professional boarding-house, you know, nice
people and they will make you comfortable. I
will tell them that you are an old acquaintance
and I will be responsible for your bill. ’

“ Oh, Mr. Mortimer, I did not even dream of
asking you to do inc such a favor!” the other
exclaimed, a look of earnest gratitude on her

ace.

“ Well, I know that you are all right, and
when you get an engagement you can speedin
settle up, and if irofessionals can’t stand by
each other it would be a pity. Have you such a
thing as a card and pencil? I haven’t in these
togs, you know,” and the actor laughed as he
glanced at his handsome Chevalier dress.

“ Yes, take a leaf out of my memorandum-
book,” Miss Serene replied, producing a little
book and pencil.

“ I will write it in the hock and you can tear
it out when you get to the house.”

Then he wrote the recommendation in the
book. .

“Iain sure I shall never forget your kind-
ness!” the actress exclaimed, earnestly, as she
returned the book to her little traveling bag.

At this point the conversation was interrupted
by the appearance of “ mein brudder, Yacob "’
evidently in a high state of excitement.

In his hand he waved a letter.

“Mine gootness, Mister Mortimer, v’at you
t’ink, hey? I hate shust got a letter from
Blanche De Caylns—dot ish Miss Peacock, ou
know—dot she cannot blay der part. She as
sloped mit a young proker und started for Cali-
fornia dis afternoon.

“ Strange that a acock should make such a
goose of herself!” Iortimer observed, gravely.

“She has made gooses of us to fool mit her
managers in dis vay 2" the speculator exclaimed
iii a great rage.

“\Vho are you going to get to do the part?”
Mortimer asked, quick to improve the opportu-
ni . ,

“ Oh, I do not know—most of der ladies are
strange to us. so we do not know if any of
dem can do _der part, und der dreSSes are all
in der dressm -room too; we contracted mit
Miss Peacock or to find der dresses. Mine
brudder Moses is going to send to der agents for
a woman, but we cannot have her here for der
rehearsal to—night, und all der critics in front
too, and to t’ink of dot supper nnd dot cham-
pagne, und der rehearsal spoiled, och, mine
gootnessl" and he began to tear his hair.

' “Hold on! don’t get excited! Here is the
very lady to step right into the position. Miss
Hilda Serene. allow me to introduce you to one
of the managers of this colossal spectacular
dntor'priso,‘ Mr. Jacob Bolosso. Miss Serene was
the ori l Blanche De Caylus with me at the
Grand pera House—let me see, was it Chica 0
or St. Louis? I get the cities mixed up once in
a while. I suppose, Miss Serene, if Messrs.
Bolosso offered you money enough you wouldn‘t
mind doing Blanche De Caylus for them to
obli e in this emergency?”

“ should be pleased to accommodate,” the
actress re lied, puttin on her sweetest smile.

The litt 8 J ew'cock his head on one side and
examined the girl very much as a jockey would

- inspect a horse which he thought of buying.
(

Aha, on hate got 8001? stage resence— on
are not v’cyit ish called a beautifuf y
you will make up for der stage Well,” he re-
ward? r t 1 b b

“ .yes sheisa rec 31186 W 0'13 0 ti
her war-paint on!” Mpgrtimer exclaimed, as 33i-
ous as a ndge.

Miss rene smiled, showing her teeth, so
white and oven, and the Jew speculator felt de~
cidedly impreued. The peculiar magnetism of
the woman had an cfl'ect upon him,

“ Yesh, yeah, I that you win (10,11 you will
come for a low salary.”

“ 0,h yec'” the young actor exclaimed before
the git. could open her month, “ she’ll come
fbeap, if {03 provide the dnenses, any fifty dol-

ars a wee .

“ F‘eefty tollars!” hOWIed the Jew, “mine
goot'ness, Mister Mortimer, you know gamer
than dot! Feefty tollars! do you wantto break

» der concern? I vash  to “y ten.»
t

“ Oh, no, no, not to ought of!” Mortimer
exclaimed. never
speak, “ Wh , M as Serene got more than that
hot re she con d open her mouth on the s

Yo know, when on _did the e in Richelieu
*where was it, incinnati, rleansi Well, it
doesn't matter, and I say old fellow, you were
to give Miss Peacock twenty-five for she showed
me the contract.”

    

womans, but .

iving the girl a chance to

 

   

who was in the , mans you are to tell tales out of der school,"

and the little Jew shrugged his shoulders until
they almost went up to his ears.

“ Well, i suppose. Miss Serene, under the cir-
cumstances you will be willing to take the same
salary that the other lady was to receive,” the
young actor said with the air of a man who is
askin a favor.

“ as, I would be satisfied with that,” the
lady replied.

“ Overture on! everybody down~ to begin!”
was the announcement the call-boy howled forth
at this moment.

“ Vell, veil, it ish a bargain—twenty-five a
week and traveling ex uses, and one week’s
notice on either Side! (gems mit me und I vill
Show you der dressing-room!” the little Jew ex-
claimed.

And so the stranded actress got a chance for
life, thanks to generous James Mortimer.

 

CHAPTER III.
A STARTLING INTERRUP‘HON.

THE Jew took the lady to the foot of the
stairs which led to the upper regions and there
turned her over to the call-boy with instructions
to take her to Miss Peacock’s dressing-room.

“ You Will find ever t’ing up dere,” he said.
“ Der lady writes that er part is on der shelf by
der glass. You are not on until der last scene
of de prologue, you know, and if you hurry up
you vill hafe blent ' of time, und to take a 100
at der part too. 'lry and get on mitout reading
it on der stage if you can, for all dei' critics are
in front and it will make der show look queer.”

“ Oh, I think it will come back to me as soon
as I read the lines over. She has not much in
the prologue,” the actress answered, and then
she followed the call boy up the narrow stairs.

The room was on the second landin and a.
little slip of paper tacked to the door re the
names “ Miss Peacock, Miss Amherst.”

“There it is—the overture is on, you know,”
said the call-boy and then he departed on a run,
as was the general custom of the erratic youth.

The door was half-way open, so the actress did
not knock, but entered without ceremony.

The mom was a small, eight-by-ten apart-
ment, extremely scantily fui nished, for there
were only three chairs and a washstand, with a.
double r0w of shelves on three sides, and- the
carpet on the floor was extremely shabby.

The room was occupied by a slight-figured,
blondehaired young lady, with extremely bright
blue eyes, who was ro as a Gypsy.

This was the Pepita of the play, who, in stage
parlance, is kn0wn as a soubrette, French for
chambermaid, because her characters are usual-
ly in that line-—— rt, smart waiting-maid, or
00%uettish village uties.

be young lady was seated by the left-hand
shelf, in the center of which was a mirror, with
a couple of gas-burners, one on each side.

A towel was spread on the shelf before the
glass, and on it were the paints, powders, cos—
metics, and various other articles considered so
necessary to render a beautiful woman still
more beautiful.-

On the opposite shelf was a similar mirror,
flanked also by two gas-jets, and a newspaper
was spread out before it; the toilet articles were
absent, although on the shelf, by the side of the
glass, some handsome dresses wereJaid.

The young lady had her back to the door, and
was reading when the actress entered. '

“ You are late. Peacock,” she said, as she
heard the rustle of Hilda Serene’s dress, without
turnln her head. “ I took the liberty of laging
your hings out for you. so you . could ress
quickly; but you ought to be careful and at
here on time, for these Bolossos are regu ar
cranks, and would kick up no end of a row if
you should keep the stage waiting to-night.”

After the peculiar fashion common to many
actresses, she had left of! the miss when address-
ing the other.

“ It is not Miss Peacock, but I am much
obliged toyou, all the same for I have come in
her place,’ Hilda replied, closing the door be-
hind her, and nning to removo her thin
undressing with t e rggndity which comes to e
actress from long pra ice.

“Oh, my gracious! you really must excuse
me,” continued the other, jumping to her feet,
turning around as she did so, and Icurve ing the
new-comer with an inquisitive lance. “ hadn’t
any idea that it was not Miss eacook.”

“ She has disa pointed—has sloped with a
gentleman to Caligornia!”

“ Oh, my,” exclaimed the blonde girl, with a
little cry of surprise. “ You don‘t saysol Well,
now, she was boasting to me on Saturday that
she had a rich young fellow on a string, and
that the first thing I would know would be that
she was married, and had bid ood-by to the
stage forever; but I did not real y believe her
you know, for you always hear so much talk 0
that kind from these girls who think they are
extra fascinating.” .

“ It was the truth this time. She has gone,
and I have come in her place.

By this time Mia Serene had removed her

   

De Gaylus. ‘ 

         

 

dress and taken up the first costume of Blanche »

“ Let me help you, dear.” the other exclaimed.
“ But you have plenty of time, for you are not
on until the last scene of the prologue.”

“Yes, I know it. I have played the part.”

“ Well, that is lucky."

“ Yes, I played it with Mr. Mortimer at the
“'est, and it was through his influence that I
got this engagement.”

“Oh, I don’t like that a bit i" Miss Amherst
exclaimed in tho frankest manner possxble.

“ Don’t like it!” cried Hilda. in astonishment.

“ No; don’t you know that Mr. Morlimeris
my particular pie?” the other declared in the
saucy manner of the rt soubrette.

“Indeed I did not, ut you need not fear a
possible rival in me, for I am sure that nothing
is further from my thoughts than a love affair
between Mr. Mortimer and myself, and I am
certain, too, that he doesn’t think of anything of
the kind. Besides, with my faded, careworn
face, what chance would I stand witha bril~
liant, beautiful girl like yourself .7 ’

“ Oh. come off with your tally!” the other ex-
claimed.

While this conversation had been going on the
busy fingers of the two girls had not been idle,
and Hilda was speedily arrayed in the old-
fashioned dress of the French court lady.

It was a hard task for Miss Amherst to hook
the bodice, and she remarked:

“ Well, you are finely developed, and no mis-
take! Emma Peacock was a big English girl,
and you do not appear to be near as stout as she
is, but you are; and what magnificent arms you
have. and they are as hard as iron. too!”

“ Yes, I have indulged in a good deal of
gymnasium practice in my time, besides doing a
good deal ofhard work; but, I say, who is giv-
ing tafl’y now i”

“ Oh, no, I am not flattering you.” By this
time the bodice was arranged, and Hildatook
up the quaint, old-fashioned head—dress.

Miss Amherst assisted in the adjustment.

“ Upon my word, you are going to look reo
markably well. Come over to my glass and
he] _ yourself to my ‘ make—up.’” ,

y this term the actress characterized the
toilette articles.

“ Hallol there’s the curtain bell!” Miss Am-
herst exclaimed at this point.

Although the curtain was not down, the for-
mality of ringing it up just as at an actual per—
formance was gone through.

“ You will have plenty of time to look at your,
part—there it is,” the soubrette continued in her .
r

isk, lively way, and she pointed to a little
manuscript-book on the other’s dressing-place.

“ Yes, and as the part is a short one, I will be
able to recover it all right, I guess”

“ Oh, you can ‘ wing’ it easfly enough.

By this peculiar expression the actress meant
that the scenes in which the character took part
were so far a rt, and her share in them so
small, that the y who played it would have
ample time to study the speeches between the
scenes while waiting in the ‘ wings.’

“ Wh re do you board ?” asked Miss Amherst,
care] y, more for the sake of talking than for
any interest she took in the matter.

" I have not made any arrangements et. as I
have only just arrived in the city, but r. Mor-
timer was kind enough to give me a. line to the
lady where he ” '

“ Oh, come, now!
good cause to be jealous of you. commands

on to his boarding-house, does iti' Well, well

should be in a flutter on! I happen to board
there myself, so I will he a is to cop an eye on
you. By the way, I have a in e apartment
there, and you can room with me i you like.”

" You are an so kind,” Hilda replied, evi-
dently embarrassed by the otter. “ And I trust
you will not be offended if 1 am obli ed to de-
cline. I am an awful Queer girl, know; I
have a strange repugnance to rooming with
any one, and would infinitely refer a little bit
of a room where I could be y myself to the
meet spacious and elegant apartment «shared
with another.”

“ You are an odd girl! no mistake about that, I

as odd as on look, but I have taken a fancy to
on, all t same, and I think we are going to
excellent friends, although you will not mom
with me. . But come, let’s get down-stairs and
see how things are ng on. It is great fun
to.watch these two logo brothers; th _ get
fairly crazy if anything goes wrong, and
up and down like a pair of jumping-jacks.”
Then the two girls descended to the stage.
Miss Amherst stood in the prompt wing, and
Hilda found a sheltered nook a little back where
she diligmtly studied her part.
The Wm] went on in good shape, and

when the hstscene of the act came, the tone of  

the Chateau De Caylus, Hilda took her

behind the painted «mm: which repmeu

the chateau. ' ~ - ‘
She ascended a step-ladder, which

on a level with a wi ow, through w she

Log-adore, who is a famousd
arranged to fight another chevalier of metal.
the Duke De Nevars, in the fame of the Chateau

I guess I am oing to have

 

hr,
was

“org: story it the i t thi ti- fol- 
o paya s 'n as 
,lows: pm It,haa _ 

   

 

De Caylns. Blanche De Ca lus imacntly no» t
 to, De Norm.   to

.
':T W w.

 

 

'drives them back. utt

4

The Actress Peteotive.

 

 

 

their baby to the father’s charge on this 'partic-
ular night.

Logadere arrives in the moat first. Blanche,
in the darkness, mistakes him for De N evei‘s,
calls to him and gives the child. Logailere, like
a true allant of the age, thinks a pretty woman
has fal en in love with him, and when she calls
him to receive the “ treasure,” as she terms the
child, he, ripe for an adventure, receives it, but
when the lady retires from the casement, is as-
tonished to find that he has a baby in his arms.

Then comes De Nevers, eager to get through
with his duel, so that he may keep his tryst with
his wife, and the moment he discovers Logadere
he draws his steel and attacks him, but the sol-
dier of fortune wards off the thrusts and calls
upon the duke to be careful or he will kill his
child, for by this time Logadere, who has
heard the rumors that Do Nevers is secretly
married to the beautiful Blanche De Caylus, has
guessed the truth in regard to the child.

Just as Logadere finished his explanation of
how he came by the child, on the ramparts of
the moat appear a dozen masked men, sword in
hand.

They are hired bravos led by the Duke De
Gonague, who is a. rival of De hevers for the
love of Blanche, and the have come with the
intention of killing De evers, but as they ad-
vance, they are amazed to discover that Loga-
dere is going to fight for the duke.

The villain urges them on to the attack—a
fight takes place, the steel of Logadere performs
wonders, for in a. melee of this kind the advent-
urer is at home, the ruflians are beaten back
but the villain duke fires at De Nevers, an
succceds in mortally wounding him.

The husband falls by the gate of the chateau,
and with his last breath he calls upon the sol-
dier of fortune to protect his child and avenge
his cruel murder. ,

Logadere takes the oath upon the hilt of his
sword, then wraps the baby in his cloak. By
this time the villain duke and his men are clus-
gered upon the steps which lead out of the

osse

“ Now, dogs, give way!” cried the soldier.

“There is ut one man, kill him!” responds
Gonague.

The bravos advanced upon Logadere; he cute
his way through them, lays Gouague prostrate
with a slash on the head and gains the rampart

Ammonia. b h 1 hi bth

into ravosc eun m,ue

33 my aggloralized, and

standing in triumph at the head of the steps,
cries:

“ I am here, stanch and true! I swear to
avenge the death of Phillip De Nevers; first
come the hirelings and then he master!"

It is a glorious tableau and neverifails to
bring the curtain down with thunders of ap-
plause.

At the rehearsal all went well. Hilda as
Blanche made a good impression, she looked
fine] ,spoke her lines with a clear, well-modu-

, la voice, and the brothers were satisfied that

she would do fully as well as the absent’Miss
Peacock.

The end of the prologue came, Mortimer, as
Logadere, had cut his way u the steps and
beaten back the ruflians with a l the deftness of
a man used to haudlin the sword from boy hood,
the orchestra music ame " piano "soasto
allow him to speak.

With a voice as clearas a bugle’s note, the
actor delivered the stirring lines and as the last
word came from his lips and he struck a posi-
tion with the lime light turned full upon him, a
really beautiful tableau, the sharp crack of a

pistol was heard.

Mortimer gave a cry and staggered back, lost
his footing on the narrow platform and wmt
down between it and the scene which formed
the background.

fill watsoréonfusilpeni in an instant.

ve y rus n the sta .

Whgdid it mean?“p0 38
will?! Mortimer been shot? It certainly looked

e t

 

CHAPTER IV.
STRAIGHT FROM m snowman.

Evan the players in the orchestra, mud Ger.
mans who were not easily excited, dropped their
instruments and sprung to their feet, all eager
tome what was the trouble.

,. All the audience were on their feet, and the

, manager of the theater, the ex-sporting man of

other days, had not forgotten his early trainin ,

although now grown rather stout and ex -

ingly pros rous, and he leaped from his private

box onto t ,estage with all t e agility of an am
t.

The drama, was exciting enough but this un-
ex ted climax beat anything in the play.

ut just as everybodtfr was on their feet, and

before any one coul make another move,

 through the door of the canvas house. the mimic

Chateau De Caylus came two stru ling forms.
A, brawn , thic .set, muscular allow, with

' a bulldog-1i 9 head and neck, in hisshirt sleeves,

.‘ who looked like a scene-shifter and to him, with
v. . wonderful tenacity, clun Hil a

I!

no.
trfirst the spectators bought that the man

 toget away,and the girlwas snf

 

. ,\ ,‘
..t~ ' . -.

 

 

deavoring to detain him, but at a second glance
the saw that this was a mistake. The actress
ha thrust the man through the door, despite of
his stubborn resistance. All had fled from the
Sta e in wild affright after the shot.

he fellow’s face was purple with rage, and
in his right hand he grasped a still smoking re-
volver, and this right hand the girl held with
a grip of iron, her other being fastened on his
throat. .,

As soon as they got fairly on the stage the
man succeeded in breaking loose, but in doin
so loosened his hold on the pistol which drop
to the stage.

Then, with the an y glare of a demon, he
turned upon the fear ess girl, and aimed a ter-
rific blow at her face that surely would have
prevented her from playing Blanche De Caylus
for many a ni ht if it had alighted where he in-
tended it shou d.

But with the cunning of a veteran boxer the
actress threw up her left hand, warded off the
blow without any trouble, then there was a mo-
mentar stiffening of the lithe, muscular figure
—the ‘ gathering together” as the pugilists

‘terin it—out shot the right arm, and the man,

who got the blow on the neck under the car on
the jugular vein, received the impression that
he had been struck by a fist of iron, not of flesh
and bone.

He threw up his hands, staggered back and
then want down all of a heap.

He had been “ knocked out” as scientifically
as any pugilist had ever been in a prize-ring.

An involuntary shout of approval went up
from the throats of the spectators.

But the girl never heard the yells of applause.

“ Secure that man—don’t let him esca l” she
cried, “ he has attempted to murder r. Mor-
timer!”

And then with wonderful swii'tness, consider-

ing that she was incumbered by her woman’s

skirts, she ran up the steps, gained the platform
from which Mortimer had fallen, And throwing
herself upon her knees peered down.

The latform was a. good seven feet high, and
a tum is from it for a wounded man was no

‘oke.

J Bot Mortimer’s fall had been in some slight
degree broken by the canvas scene behind him,
against which he had fallen, so by the time that
the girl reached the platform he had risen to
his feet, considerably astonished, somewhat
shaken up, but otherwise all right, as he be-
lieved.

Mortimer had just got on his feet as the ac-
tress looked down.

“ Oh, Mr. Mortimer are you hurt?” she cried.

“ No, I think not, although I’ve had an ugly
fall,” he replied. “ I am a little bruised, but
otherwise am all right."

By this time the master-carpenter had come
to the spot, and he ushed the canvas screen
which represented t 9 wall of the most to one
side so that the actor could come through to the
stage.

In obedience to Hilda’s injunction the man in
the shirt-sleeves had been pounced upon, and
was now in the grasp of the s cial officer of the
house, a burly, red—whisker Irishman by the
name of McCormick. He was a member of the
regular police force, but assigned to duty at the
thiimiféa bee itt' i th tte jo

e nsinneparue,eny-
ing the show, and hag rushed to t e front and
climbed upon the stage when the disturbance
took place.

In a couple of minutes the fellow had, recov-
ered from the shock, and as he rose to his feet
the officer grabbed him. _

The Irishmanswung his club in the air.

“Be aisy, ye blaggard, or I’ll be afther layin’
ye out i” he cried.

The man cast a. sullen glance around at the
circle of hostile faces which surrounded him, for
by this time the stage was crowded with the
theater people, and if any idea of attempting to
esca had entered his mind, the display Would
sure y have ut the thought to flight, for the ac—
tors had the r swords drawn, the supernumerar—
ies brandished their old-fashioned Weapons, and
even the stage hands had armed themselves With
the staffs of wood with iron at both ends, known
technically as stage braces, and used to fasten
pieces of scenery in their places. _

If the man had attempted to offer realstance,
even if the policeman had not been present, it is
certain that he would have been roughly han-
dled. .

When Mortimer and Miss Serene came down
the stage, the actor was warmly greeted by the
manager, who was his especial friend.

“ Are you all right, J im'i” he exclaimed.

“ Yes, I think so, although I got an ugly
knock on in shoulder which pains a little," the
actor replied. .

” We Will just. have an examination into this
thing i” the manager exclaimed. “ Fall back.
ladies and gentlemen, please, and give us room.”

The crowd u the stage obeyed and formed
a circle amundpgllilc group, com of the man-
ager, Mortimer, Miss Serene, t e ofiicer and the

. prisoner, who were all in the center of the stage.
" Who

is this man?” the manager asked.
“ One of the scsnovshifters.” responded the
master carpenter,sz forward.

 

“ I don’t remember to have ever seen him be-
fore,” the manager remarked.

The proprietor of the theater prided himself
upon being well-posted in regard to all the de-
tails of his establishment, and so was acquainted
with the hands employed.

“ He is a substitute in place of John Toody,”
the stage-carpenter replied. “ Tood y is sick and
sent this man with a letter, saying he had work-
ed at the Grand Opera House, and could be de-
pemled'upon, and as we “we rathei'short-hand-
ed to—night I ut him on.”

“ Ah, yes,
you got to say for yourself?” asked the manager
sternly, as be fixed his sharp eyes on the face of
the prisoner.

“ Oh, not much,” the man replied with a sul-

len, defiant air, “ only you are kicking up a big ,

row about nothing.”

“ About nothing, eh?” the manager cried.
“ Well, I must say that you are a pretty cool
hand! Do you call attempting to kill a man
nothin ?” I

“ I didn’t try to kill anybody l” the fellow or
claimed.

“ You did not?”

H No.”

“ Well, upon my word, I must say that your
cheek beats anything that I ever came across 1”
the manager declared.

“ Hold on! don’t be in too big a hurry l” the
man said, in an extremely cool way. “ It was
an accident. ”

“ An accident!" cried the manager, and the
fiytstandem all eagerly inclined their heads to

s en.

f‘ Yes, an accident; why should I want to hurt
this man?” and the fellow nodded to Mortimer.
“  never saw him before-I have not got any-
thing against him, and I think he will say that
is the truth.”

“ How is that, Jim ?" the manager asked.
“He certainly speaks the truth,” the
actor replied. ‘
my knowled e.”

“ How cou d I have any g‘rud s then against
a man that I don’t knowl’ t e fellow demanded.
“The how of it was this: I was knocked dowu
and robbed almOst a month a 0 while going
home from the Grand Opera ouse late one
night, so I gIot a revolver in order to protect
in self, and was just lookin at it—fooling
w th it, (flan know, when the thing went ofi‘ in
my han Then the next thing I knew this
woman collared me, and then dragged me upon
the e," and the fellow looked at Hilda in a

uzzl sort of way, as though he was wonder-
ing how on earth she managed to do such a
thing.

“ An accident, eh!” exclaimed the manager,
who did not know what to make of the story.

“ It may have been an accident,” Mortimer
remarked. “ But I was certainly under the im-
pression that the bullet came within a foot of
my head, for I heard it whistle, and it was so
near that I thought I was hit, and in some we
lost my balance and tumbled off the platform.’

“ You were wounded by the bullet,” Hilda re-
marked, akin as quietly and impassively as
though this start ing scene wasamere every-day
occurrence.

“The ball tore through the shoulder of your
coat, there is the hole,” she continued, placing
her hand upon Mortimer’s left shoulder. “ And
it cut the flesh, too, for your coat is wet with
blood i”

This announcement created a deal of excite-

ent. .
“Well I thought Iwas hit at the time or
else I wohld not have fallen from the platfoi'm,

oung
I never saw the man be ore to

m

but after I picked myself up, I concluded that it.

was not so, and though felt a sin in m
:hfiiilder, I fancied I had wrenche it by m;
a

While he was freaking, the actor had taken
of! his coat, and ilda, with the air of one who
knew all about such things, examined the
wound.

It was plain that she igas different, from the
majority of girls, and t at the sight of blood
had no terrors for her soul, for the shoulder of
the fine stage—shirt that the actor wore was
stained crimson. ‘

_ “ The wound does not amount to anythin —it

is only a scratch,” Hilda announced. ‘ The

bullet just mod the flesh enough to draw

Blood, bit]: ii £183“ ggictieerfi enough to do serious
arm. 8 0 courtr

soon fix it all right.” puma, I could

As it happened. the old
supply in is wallet, and Hil
the dressing of the wound.

The spectators looked on with the reatest in-
terest, and the man who had made t e trouble,
surve,S’tad the oung actress from under his over-
hanging}; beet e brows as if she was some curious
puzzle t at he could not solve.

Well, my man, this wound don’t seem to
bear out your story that you discharged the re-
volver by accident,” the menu or remarked,
gazing sternly upon the scene-sbi tor. V

“I can’t help that—I am telling you the
truth!” the man declared with a sullen face.
“ It may be that the revo ver was inted to-
ward him at the time it accidsn y want of,
and that is how he happened to get Wounded.” ‘

e-carpenter had a
a soon completed

see; and now. my man, what have ‘

e

wrists...- atom“

 

s

l
l
l
l

. VW~vAw

 

 

 
   
 

 

 

 

 

 

“ Sir, this story is a falsehood from beginning
to end!” Hilda exclaimed, addressing the man-
ager. “ This man made a deliberate attem t to
shoot Mr. Mortimer, as you will see after tell
you what I saw. After my scene was over I
descended the steps and stopped b the door so
as to see the rest of the scene. his man was
there, and I presumed, of course, that he was
atten ling to his duties. I could see that he did
not like my remaining, and after a minute or
two, he asked me if I couldn't go in the next
wingr below as I would be in the way when the
time came to strike the scene. I knew that this
was merely an excuse to get me to go, for
ilml‘c would not be anything done until the act
ended.

"I complied with his request—that is, I left
that entrance, but instead of going into the en-
trance below, I Went to the one above, and by
squeezing mySelf in between two of the scenes
1 was able to watch him without his being con-
scious of it.

“ I fancied that he was up to some mischief,
for I noticed that he watched me when I left
the entrance as if to see where I was going, and
so I tricked him by pretending to go to the en-
trance below, but I took advantage of the dark-
ness to steal into the one above.

“ From my place of concealment I saw him
draw the revolver, raise the hammer and take
deliberate aim at Mr. Mortimer, resting the
pistol upon his left arm so as to make sure of
his shot, and I believe the bullet would have in-
flicted a fatal wound had I not Jumped forward
just as the man fined. and so disturbed his aim;
then I seized and dragged him through the door;
the rest you know.”

“ It is a lie !” the man cried, angrily. “ The
gal has put up this job on me jest so as to make
out that she has done something big. But I will
be even With ou for this night’s work before I
get through With you I”

The face of the actress seemed to harden sud-
denly—dark lines a poured upon it: the gray-
black eyes appear to turn a peculiar green,
like the orbs of a boost of prey, and she fixed
them upon the face of the boaster in a way that
fairlv made a cold chill run over him.

“ You scoundrel! if you ever dare to cross m
path again, I shall kill you!" Hilda Serene sai ,
in low, measured tones. .

And there was not one within the sound of
the woman’s voice who had any doubt that she
would be as good as her word, yet there was
nothing sensational—no bravado, in the girl’s
manner.

There was silence for a moment; it was as if
the actress had cast a sort of spell upon the as-
semblafe.

.The rish policeman was the first to k.

“ Shall I be afther takin’ him off, . Gil-

more. an’ havin’ him locked up?” he asked.
. “ YeS. do so, and Mr. Mortimer will appear
mlthe morning against him,” the manager re-
plied. “ And then perhaps we will be able to
get at the bottom of this strange affair.”

The man asked that he be permitwd to ut on
his coat, which request was granted, an then

' he departed in charge of the ofllcer.

 

CHAPTER V.
THE “ cor ” is ns'romsunn.

THE policeman marched his prisoner through
the back door of the theater into Crosby
street.

McCormick had a firm hold of the man‘s coat
cdllar with his left hand, and in his right he
swung the locust club which the avearage New
York policeman know so well how to use.

The ‘ cop,” to use the slang appellation which
the toughs of the metropolis apply to the
guardian of the peace, had no fear of the prison-
er escapin from his strong grasp, for McCormick
wasa g man when it came to a hand-to-hand
struggle, and was much more than a match for
the scene-shifter.

“ Now, my bould bucko, ye had better be af-
ther takin’, the matter aisy, an’ goin’ along wid
me like a gintleman. unless ye want to git a
taste of this stick of mine an’, upon me wourd, I
don’t think ye will find it pleasant,” the officer
warned as he took his prisoner from the theater
into the street.

“ Oh. that is all right,” the other replied in a
milky Way, “ I am not going to make any trou-
ble, but will go along asquietly as a lamb. I ain’t
at all afeardl' I kin get out of this scrape easy
enough; they can’t. do an thing to me, for it
wasn’t anything but an accident, and that wo-
man 1193 When “he says the saw me fire the re-
volver at the actor” Holy gmokei but; she is a.
terror though! I ain’t reckoned to be a weak
man, and l have had some scraps in my time

‘ with 5001 boys, and I allure managed to hold

"U 0W“. We“! "9“, but Ioouldno more do any-
thing With this woman when she grabbed me
than if it had been the champion, John L_ sum-
van whom I had run up against.”
“ True fer yees!” the officer exclaimed, u She
is a foine slip pf a gurl, do ye mind, an! whin she
ive it to ya in the neck, bogob, ye wing down
like the ox before the butcher l”

“ I never run up against such a woman before
and I don’t want toagain h a hurry!" the {9110.}
declared. “ Hang me! if she ain’t t muse}...
jest like a prize-fighter, and when a e give me

 

The: Actress Detective.

that lick in the neck I felt as if I had been hit
with a club."

“It was a foine stroke; there‘s no mistake
about that, an’ye kin take yer oath that the gurl
not only knows how to hit out straight from the
shoulder, but is afther understandin’ where to
put the blow so as to have it do the most good.”

“I don’t want her to hit me again, the she-
devil l” the other declared. “ Cuss me if she ain’t
a good deal more like a man than a woman!"

“ Arrah! don’t ye be afther findin’ so much
fault wid a mimber of the weaker and tin-
derer sex!” exclaimed the policeman with a

rm.
“ Weaker sex!” cried the prisoner. “ Well,
all I have got to say is, that no man ever t0ok
hold of me in such a way, and she has got a fist
like iron.”

By this time the two had got to almost the
middle of the block.

Crosby street, at thisfipart, is not particularly
well-lighted, and the o cer tightened his grip
upon the prisoner’s coat-collar for fear that the
fellow might attempt to make a dash for liberty
in the gloom.

There were eight or ten people in the rear of
the two, attracted by the sight of them, but the
officer paid no particular heed to them, for
there are always loungers at the back door of a
popular theater, and an arrest, even made in a
quietback street is sure to cause a small crowdto
gather. .

But all of these fellows were not ordinary
loun ers, attracted by the morbid curiosity
whic leads people to follow an officer who has
made an arrest, or to stand and stare when an
ambulance rolls by, as McCormick soon dis-
covered to his cost. .

As soon as the policeman and his prisoner
came into the loom, one of the men, who was
right at the o cer’s heels, a tall fellow, brou ht
his hand down violently on the top of c-
Cormick’s helmet, driving it down over his eyes,
and at the same moment a second man, who
was armed with a short club, hit the policeman
a terrific blow on the arm with the hand of
which he grasped the prisoner.

lVith a yell of pain the Irishman released his
grip and the captive took to his heels imme-
diately.

Then a third man, in the rear of a stolid Ger-
man, who was following in the procemion out of
pure curiosity with a violent ush sent the Ger-
man against McCormick wit such force that
both of them went headlong into the gutter;
the Irishman at the time was turning so as to
grapple with. his assailants, and had just lifted
his at from his eyes when the German came
against him like a battering;ram, and, of course,
it was the most natural t ing in the world for
McCormick to jump to the conclusion that the
German was one of his assailants.

The policeman was on his side in the gutter
crushed under the weight of the fat German,
who weighed a good two hundred, but he
managed to get his right arm free and aimed a
violent blow at his supposed assailant, and if the
club had alighted on the German’s head where
McCormick had intended it should, it would
sadly have damaged that worthy citizen, but an
accidental movement on the German’s part

spared him the blow; the club struck the curb-V

stone, and the concussion broke it short of! close
to the Irishman's hand.

Dropping the club, McCormick caught the
German by the throat and rolled him over, the
man not attempting to resist, but bellowing to
be spared at the top of his lungs, frightened
almost out of his wits by the unexpected peril
in which he had become so suddenly involved.

Perceiving that he had nothing to fear from
the foe the policeman released his grip on the
Gemian’s throat as soon as he got out from
under him and sprung to his feet.

By this time uite a crowd had collected, at-
tracted by the ght, and it was growing bigger
and bégger every moment. ‘

Mc rm ck was in a fearful re 6, and pulling
out his revolver, glared around a search of his
prisoner and the men who had attacked him,

ut none of them had waited to see how the
German would fare. All had taken to their
heels and, by this time, were safe from pursuit.

“ Where’s the blaggard who was after knock-
ing me hat over me eyes?" the’ liceman de-
manded, wild with rage. “ Where 3 the spalpeen
who belted me on the arm wid a club?"

These were conundrus that no one in the
crowd felt inclined to answer, but the circle
widened a little when the men who composed
it saw how angry the policeman was. for they
were a little afraid that he might take it into
his_ head to charge on them and New York
police officers when in a passion are justly re-
garded as dangerous men.

As McCormick had not seen his bold assail-
ants, of course it was not possible for him to
pick them out, even if they had been in the
crowd, but as he paw no evidence that any one
present had any idea of interfering-with the
majesty of the law, and was desirous of making
an example of somebody, be arrested the unfor-
tunate German and logged him 03 to the police
station and there made a charge against him of
interfering with an oflcer in the discharge of
his duty.

5

As it happened, the sergeant in command was
a sensible man and took pains to inquire into
the affair, and the result of the examination
was the discharge of the German, much to the
dissatisfaction of the Irishman, who could not
get the idea out of his head that the German
was not in some way connected with his assail—
ants, who had managed to rescue the prisoner in
such an extremely skillful way.

“ Begobl if I iver lay me two hands on that
scene-shifter ag’in, I Will not l’ave a whole bone
in his body !” McCormick declared.

CHAPTER VI.
THE MAN—WOMAN.

Ama the policeman departed With his pris-
oner, the rehearsal went on again and it came
to an end without any incident worthy of notice
transpiring.

 

happened, Miss Serene attracted more attention
than anyone else, although in the main part of
the play the character she assumed was that of
an old woman, for there is an elapse of sixteen
years between the prologue and the drama pro-
er, and in the drama the child that the soldier,
gadere, receives in the prologue is a charm-
ing girl of seventeen, who has been brought up
by him, and of course they fall in love With
each other and L adere’s efforts to restore her
to her mother and oil the malice of the villain
duke, who seeks to keep the girl out of her heri-
e, is the interesting feature of the play.
lanche De Nevers, as the girl is called, was
played by a very Charmin young woman, Miss
Georgia St. Clair. This ad{ and Mortimer
were old acquaintances; they ad played toge-
ther a great deal, and Miss St. Clair, more in-
terested in the young actor than she would have
liked to Confess, took an immediate dislike to
Hilda Serene.

During the last scene of the play there were
some minutes when Mortimer and Miss St. Clair
being together on the stag; had a chance to ex-
change a few words, not ing concerned in the
action of the play just then.

Miss St. Clair noticed that the young actor’s
eyes were fixed upon Hilda’s face. and the pecu-
liar expression upon Mortimer’s features did not
please the yonn lady.

“Do you thin she is pretty!” Miss St. Clair
asked, abruptly.

“ Eh ?” exclaimed Mortimer, with a start, evi-
. dently roused from a brown study. “ Who do
you mean?”

“ Why, this new lady, you know,” and Miss
St. Clair nodded to Hilda.

“ Well, I don’t think she would impress any-
one as being particularly beautiful With that
ugly white wig on,” he replied.

“Oh, I don’t mean as she is made up now!”
the actress exclaimed, a little impatiently, for
she fancied that Mortimer was evading her
question. “ I mean, do you think she is pretty
off the stage—as she was in her first dress in the
prolo e?”

“ ell, I suppose you will think it strange,
but, upon m word, .have never troubled my
head about t e matter. In fact, I never noticed
her looks; but, now that you speak of it, and
want my opinion upon the matter, I must say
that although she is not pretty—and could not
by any stretch of the imagination be called
beautiful, yet she is by no means bad looking.”

” To my thinking she is dreadfully coarse and
masculine,” Miss St. Clair remarked, in quite a
spiteful way. “ And if I did not know that she
was a woman, I should think she was a man,
dressed in woman’s clothes!”

“ Oh, you are clearly prejudiced l” Mortimer
exclaimed, lau hing.

“ I am sure 8 e handled that sceneoshifter just
like a man, and she used her fist as well as any
man could.” ’

“ Well, you know it is a popular fad now-
adays for. ladies to take fencing and boxing-
lessons, and only the other day there was a regu-
lar rim-fight between two women.”

“ he horrid creatures!” Miss St. Clair ex—
claimed, in disgust.

“ Yes, I should think that it was a tough pro-
ceeding; still it is not a bad idea for a woman
who is possessed of sumcient muscular strength,
to know how to take care of herself, in case she
is a cked by a rufl‘ian. I fancy, from the dis-
play tMiSS Serene gave of her abilities in
that line tonight, that it would take a pretty
good man to get away with her, to use thecomv
mon saying.” .

“Well, «think she is a horrid, bold thing,
and I don’t like her at all!” the young actress

“ Oh, come now, you are too severe!” Mor~
timer declared. .
really fair to come to a conclusion so quickly—
to decide on so short an ac uaintance?”

her!” the other replied, with a pout. ‘
don’t think she is much of an actress either.”

“ She is doing very well; she certaiifiy is fully
as as Miss Peacock, and even ' the poo-
ees-ed great talent, she could not well display it
in such a part.”

The busi ness of the scene now

\

 

attention of the pair put an end to the con .
tion; but it will be seen that there was a green.

Of course, as was only natural after what bad

s

the ,

O

“ And do you think that it is ' ~ 

“ Well, I know very wel ‘ I never shall like  I"
“ And I ‘

 

 

T’s

«a.

 

    

"by a right-hand swing on the

6

The Actress Detective.

 

 

holding a leading position in the theater who
was not disposed to look with friendly eyes
upon the newcomer.

After the rehearsal was ended, the performers
repaired to their dressing-rooms to remove their
costumes.

When Hilda reached her apartment she found
that Miss Amherst was dressed for the street.

The Gypsy girl was not on at the end of the
play, so she had had time to remove her cos-
tume, and pit on her street dross.

“ You got throu h very well,” Miss Amherst
remarked as the ot er entered. “ No one would
have known that you were taking the part at
short notice.”

“ It is very good of you to say that but I am
afraid that you are flattering me,” Hilda re-
marked, as she began to remove her things.

“ Say, Miss Serene, I have a- crow to pick
with on!” Miss Amherst exclaimed, abruptly.

“ 'ith me?” the other asked in surprise.

“ Yes, no one else. Do you know what a
good”many people down on the stage say about

on

“ Indeed I do not. I cannot imagine!”

“ Well, they say that you are not a woman
at all, but a man in disguise,” Miss Amherst
said, and she surveyed the face of the other with
her sharp, blue eyes in the most searching man-
ner as she spoke.

"Oh, that is nothing new,” Hilda replied,
smiling. “ That has often been said of me. It
isunfortunate, I suppose, that I should be so
masculine in my appearance, but I cannot be!
it. I was born that way. In one of the we:
ern companies that I was with we ran short of
gentlemen at one time, and I played all the
young lovers—the love-sick walkin gentle-
men, you know-and I appeared so i e a man
-—a rather efl’eminate one, of course, that no one
In the audience suspected the truth.”

“ Come, honest, now—aren't you a man?”
Miss Amherst asked, half in jest, half in ear-
nest.

“ I am as much a woman as you are, dear,
unfortunately,” Miss Serene observed, with a
lad smile.

“ Why do you say unfortunate! ?” Miss Am-
herst demanded, somewhat astonis ed. “ Would
you rather be a man than a woman?” '

“ Yes, a thousand times, yes!” the other de-
clared, em hatically. '

“ Well, wouldn’t!” Miss Amherst exclaimed.
“AndIcannot for the life of me understand
wh any woman should prefer to be a man
rat or than a woman.” .

“ If you were like me you would understand
it, and when you come to know me you will
comprehend, for in all things, save the accident
of birth,I am more a man than awoman,”
Hilda replied in her earnest wa . “ I take no
pleasure in the quiet home delights which are
so dear to the feminine heart. Dress has no
attraction for me. Jewelry I despise, and I
would almost rather be whipped than go shop-
ping any day.” .

“ Oh, what a horrid creature you are!” Miss
Amherst exclaimed, in mock horror. “ I begin
to believe that you are not a woman after all,
althou h you certainly a pear like one now, but
than t are was that c rcus—rider you know,
Ella—Ella‘Something-or-other, I on’t remem-
ber the last name, who fooled people for years.
Ever body was ready to swear the rider was a
girl, ‘ at in time it was found that Ella was a

u.

“ Well, I ought to have been a man but I am
not,” Hilda remarked, with a sigh. ‘ As I tell
an, I am not a bit like a woman in my

tes. I take no delight in the things that the
average girl loves, but all manly sports are my

ion. I can box, shoot, fence, wrestle, ride,
mp, and run with an average man; ay
more than hold my own, or ittakes an expert

‘ to outdo me.”

. “ I can readily believe that, after the exhibio

flan that you vgave to-night!” Miss Amherst ex-

claimed. “ hy, .the way you handled that

soak big man was truly wonderful! When you
me

him he'weifit down like a log. I really
thought you had. illod him.”
“Oh, no, I knew where to strike him,” Hilda

responded, with a smile. “ All I was after
was to put him to sleep—as the boxers say—for
a while. I might have accomplished t e feat
int of the
air—that is another professional xer’s term,
r-bu_t from the way the man stood I had

a better chance to get my blow in on his jugular,
and when a skillful boxer lands a hit there, it
finally puts a man to sleep.” 'i
\ ‘ neat, you awful thin !” the son-
lIl'ctte exclaimed. “ You talk as i you had the
lounge of the whole prize-ring at your fingers'

‘ “ Well, it is'as I have told you,” Hilda replied
with a smile. ‘_.‘ I take an interest in such things.
(ll:z l onflht to have been a man!”

‘ Yes. begin to believe so; but here is an-
other thing that I don‘t understand,” Miss
Arnhem- remarked, a puzzled look upon her
use. " Even, Inpppsiu that you know all
ghoul: boxing, bow is it t at you, a woman, can

'nustsr up courage enough to attack a big, burly
.fflh, there has been picutyofwomen since abou

’. ‘1"

 

the world began who have shown as much cour-
age as any man has been known to possess; the
pages of history are full of the names of women
of dauntless metal from the days of Judith, who
slew the tyrant, Holofernes, downward.

“ Besides, the conditions were not so uneven as
you seem to imagine,” Hilda continued. “ You,
yourself, remarked upon the largeness of my
arms and their peculiar hardness. All the rest
of my body is in proportion. You Would hard-
ly believe it to look at me but I weigh a hundred
and forty pounds, and it is all solid bone, muscle
and good. hard flesh, hardly an ounce of fat up-
on me. If I were in training for some great
piuscplar feat, I could not be in better condi-

ion.

“ That I can readily believe."

“ So, really, while this man ma be ten or
twenty pounds heavier than 1, yet [1 muscular
strength and condition he could not compare
with me, and he was almost as helpless in my
gras as a rat in the teeth of a terrier.”

“ hat is true enough, and the look of amaze
ment on his face when you dragged him upon
the sta e, in spite of his resistance, was almost
laugha 1e.” \

“ Oh, I teléladyou I ought to have been a man!”
Hilda declar in a tone of decided conviction.
“ Dame Nature made a terrible blunder when
she decreed that I was to be a girl. \Vhy, Miss
Amherst, do you know that I never knew what
it was to feel the slightest symptoms of what the
French called the grand passion?”

“ What? is it possible that you have never
been in love?” the other cried.

“ Never 1”

“And yet—forgive me for saying so, dear—-
bpt, you are not quite as young as you might

“ That is true; I am no young chicken, as the
sayigég is, but a woman of twenty—eight.”

“ ell, I am over twenty, but I guess I
have been over head and ears in love a dozen

, times i”

“ A candid confession is good for the soul i”
Hilda remarked.

“ It is the truth. I am not exaggerating!”

“ Well, I have never been in love in all my
life. I do not know what the meaning of the
Word is. I have had friends, both men and
women, whom I have liked, but, as a rule, I
have fancied the women a great deal more than
I ban the men.”

“I say, I hope you are going to like me!"
Miss Amherst exclaimed in her frank way.
“ For I have taken a fancy to you, although you
are a reat, horrid man-woman!”

Hi! a laughed, and as she was ready for the
street by this time the two left the room.

 

CHAPTER VII.
rm: MARK ON THE BAND.
AT the foot of the stairs the girls encount-

ered Mortimer and the manager of the theater,

who were busy in conversation.

The actor introduced Hilda to the manager
who complimented her upon getting through
her part so well under the untoward circum-
stances; and then referred to the courageous
manner in which she had collared the scene-
shifter.

“I acted upon the spur of the moment of
course,” Hilda replied, “for as it was I had no
time for consideration.”

“ And the scoundrel mana ed to escape after
all,” Mortimer remarked, an then be told how
thecprisoner had been rescued from the ofilcers
in rosby street.

“ Why that is very strange!" Hilda exclaim-
ed, knitting her bold, prominent brows in
thou ht.

“ cs, it is indeed strange,” the manager re-

lied.
p “It would seem to indicate a deep-laidplot!”
Hilda declared.

“A plot!” exclaimed Mortimer, wnile the
mana er looked amared.

“ es, do you not see?” the actress exclaimed,
rather astonished that what seemed so clear to
her was not plain to the others. “ The man had
confederates waiting in the street; they Were
there on purpose to rescue him in case he
should be captured, and they did enable him
to make his escape.” ‘

“Yes, by Jove! I believe you are right!”
the manager exclaimed. “ I say Mortimer,
you and I were rather dull not to ave Jumped
to this conclusion.” .

“ Yes, we were rather stupid,” the actor re-
marked. “ But there is no doubt that Miss
Serene has hit upon the truth.”

“Oh, es, evidently there was a deep-laid
plot, and it was aimed against you too,” the
manager observed.

“ I confess that I am utterly in the dark !” the
actor exclaimed with a shake of the head.
“I have not an enemy in the world, that I
know of, to hear me hatred enough to attempt
my life.”

‘But this man intended to kill you if he
could!” Hilda declared in her firm, decided way.
“ He took careful aim at you, and there was
murder in his face if ever it was written upon a
human countenance. I would not be positive
tthe matter if I had not been so near the

 

man and therefore was able to watch him
closel '.”

“ It beats all the mysteries that 1 ever had
anything to do with!” the manager exclaimed,

“ How unfortunate that this fellow was able
to escape too!” Mortimer remarked. “ If he
had been committed to jail, when the exam-
ination came on we might have been able to
get something out of him. But, as it is, he is
gone, and I don’t suppose we will be able to
catch him again, no matter how hard we try.”

“It will be a diiliculi nutter, I suppose, to
apprehend him,” the manager obeerved in a
thou htful way. “ We might put the detectives
on t is case. I know hair a dozen of the best
men. on the force, and the superintendent is a.
particular friend of mine.”

“ l fancy that the 'ob would be rather a
difficult one, for the fellow is a common-looking
rascal, such as can be met with on every block
in the city," Mortimer said. '

“ I am‘sure that I would be able to identify
the man if I ever saw him again," Hilda re—
marked.

“ Well, I presume that the circumstances of
the case would be apt to fix the man’s face in
your memory,” the manager observed.

“ Yes, and then the man has a peculiar mark
on his hand, which I noticed when he was level-
ing the revolver at Mr. Mortimer,” the actress
explained.

“ A mark on his hand, eh!” Mortimer ex-
claimed. , -

“ Yes, on the lower side of his right hand, or,
to speak more_correctl y, midway between the
palm and the side, quite near the Wrist; the
mark is a small hand, a light pink in color,
seemingly tattooed on the flesh in sailor fashion;
an almost invisible hand, one might say; for it
is so faint in color, and situated in such an odd
place,that only by accident it would be likely to
be noticed.”

"Well, that is an odd kind of a mark," the
manager declared. “It is tattooed, of course,
for though tattooing is usually done with India
ink, yet it can be worked with vermilion, too,
for I have seen an old sailor upon whose brawny
am an American flag was tattooed in colors,
and the red was fully as brilliant as the blue.”

“Yes. that is true, I have seen cases of the
kind,” Mortimer coincided. ,

“ So, you see, if the man is ever apprehended,
I will be able to identify him without any trou—
ble,” Hilda declared.

‘ Yes, no doubt about that,” the manager as—
sorted. “ Well, I will see the superintendent to.
morrow and get him to put some detectives on
the case. I Will admit that the strangeness of
the affair has greatly excited my curiosity, and
I would like to have the mystery solved.”

“ I cannot throw any light upon it!” the other
remarked. “ As I said before, I have no enemy
to my knowledge who hears me enough ill-will
to attempt my life. Of course, I have trodden
upon some toes in my time; few men attain any
success without doing so, but none of the parties
would be likely to commit a murder for the
purpose of squaring themselves.” -

“It isa regular mystery, Jim, and no miso
take! If you keep on you may find yourself the
hero of a romance yet!” the manager remarked.

“ The man was not one of your re ular scene-
shifters, but came as a substitute?” iss Serene
said, in a reflective way, knitting her heavy
brows.

“ Yes,” the manager answered.

“Have you the address of the man in whose
place he came?” Hilda asked.

“ Yes, the back-doorkeeper has it,” the man-
ager replied. .

“ Would there be any ob 'ection to my getting
the address, so I could ca 1 upon the regular
man and see what he knows about this stran-
ger?” Hilda asked.

The rest looked at her in sur rise, for the re.
quest struck them as a particu arly novel one.

“Oho! I see! you want todcalittle detec—
tive business on your own book!” the mans?!er
exclaimed.

“ I am a woman, you know, and therefore
curious,” the actress replied, with a Smile.

“ Well, I think it is agood Idea for you to
look into the matter," the manager remarked,
after turning the matter over in his mind for a
few moments. “I think. from what little I
have seen 0! you, M188 89113118. that you have a
decided talent for detectiVe business. You un.
derstand how to Rub a conclusion in a speedy
manner, andIshould not be surprised if you
Were able to get to the bottom of this matter as
quick as any detective on the force.”

" Ah, now you are over-rating my poor abili—
ties.” the actress replied. “ But I confess I
would like _to 100k into the affair, for it is my
belief that it will be found u n examination
that there has been some trickery about this
substitute. I suspect that the man Gained
entrance here for the express purpose of endeav-
orin to kill Mr. Mortimer, and that when it is

50113! t to ascertain who and what he is, no .

knOWledge can be gained.”

. ‘_‘ Well, Miss Serene, all I have to say is, that
if it turns out to be so, you are more than a
detective, you are a first class fortune-teller!”

 

the manager declared. .
There was a general laugh at this, and then

 

any. ., .

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~ rvww\qnhr I. rvvt.

 

 

‘pieasant

The ‘Actressh Detective.

'2"

 

the party proceeded to the backdoor where the
address of the absent stage hand was procured
from the doorkeeper.

Miss Serene made a memorandum of it in her
little book: then the manager bid them good-
night, and Mortimer with the two ladies do.

parted.

“ It is not far to our home,” the actor remark-
ed as they walked up Crosby street. “ It is in
Great Jones street near the Bowery."

__.____—

CHAPTER VIII.
BAFFLED.

THE three went up the street to Houston and

then turned and proceeded toward the Bowery.

It wasa few minutes to eleven o’clock and

the streets Were still full of people for in that
on late hours are kept.

“ You will find our boarding-house a very
lace,” Mortimer remarked as they
walked aong. It is almost striclty a profes-
sional house, for it is seldom that any outsiders
stop there. Mrs. Clifton is an old time-actress
and understands how to take care of profes-
sional people.”

l “ Oh, yes, she is just as nice as she can be!”
Miss Amherst declared in her brisk way.

“ I’m sure I shall be very comfortable there,
and 1 am ever so much obliged to you, Mr.
Mortimer, for recommending me to the good
offices of the lady,” Hilda said, and the manner
in which she spoke showed lainly that she
considered herself to be under eep compliment.

“Now you speak as if I had done you the
greatest kind of a favor when, in reality the
weight of obligation is on my side!” Mortimer

otested.

“Oh, no, Mr. Mortimer!” Hilda exclaimed,
quickly. .

“Oh, but it is! there is no doubt about it!”
the young actor persisted. “I but cast my
bread upon the waters and it was returned to
me tenfold, literall fulfilling the Scriptural
prophesy. I will ca 1 upon Mis Amherst to be

0the 'udge.”

“ on had better not take me fora judge!”
the soubrette declared portly. “ I am a true
woman and shall stand
be sure to decide that Miss Serene is right, even
if I know she is in the wrong.”

“ You do infustice to yourself I am certain !’
Mortimer dec ared, gallantly.

“The matter is hardly worth riskinga decision
upon,” Hilda remarked in her, serious way. “ I
came to New York, alone and friendless, no
engagement, no pros ts of getting one, and
very ittle money. r. Mortimer aided me to
secure this position, for if he had not kindly
spoken for me I would not have got it.”

“ And then you s y repaid that service
by savmg my life!” ortimer exclaimed. “ For
I am firmly convinced that if you had not
interfered with the fellow, at the moment he
fired the shot, the ball instead of more] scratch-
ing my shoulder, would have‘ probab y pierced
my heart. I ot Miss Serene a situation and
she saved my ife. Now is there an comparison
whatever between the two services

“And you want me to decide?" Miss Amherst
asked.

“ Yes,” the young actor replied.

“ And are you satisfied to leave it to me, Miss

Serene?”

“ Oh, yes, although it is really not worth both.

orin on about.” ,
.i right; since you are both willing, you

‘ shall hays a verdict as is a verdict, and I do not

doubt it will greatly surprise you l" the lively
soubrette exclaimed, vivaciously. “ This court
decides that Miss Peacock is entitled to all the
credit, for if that ga bird of Paradise had not
eloped with her Walyl street broker—became a
Pacific sloper, so to speak—there would have
been no vacancy in the company at Niblo’s;
Miss Hilda Serene would not have got her posi-
tion, Mr. Mortimer could not have recommend-
ed her, and she would not have had an oppor-
tunity to make a heroine of herself by engaging
in mortal combat With a bloody-minded stage

- hand. Miss Peacock is justly entitled to all the

credit, and the judge to the oysters as soon as a
good- coking oyster-house is readied.”

Both Mortimer and Miss Serene laughed at
thy. unexpected decision.

No appeal from this court, I suppose?” the
actor remarked.

“ No, sir; our decisions are like the laws of the
Modes and Persians, innumerable; but if you
poring: aefigglapggne with the oysters, Heights

in 0 may on!7 isa
Amiga-st addled, all-10h]; mg for y

, no; oou not brln m be nil-
ty of'attempting to bribe mimfifigff judgge,"
Mortimer replied. laughing. “ Mines cham-
l (i, i; to? rich for your blood: you ar’e not a
on 0 ur uei‘; you ought tobe ‘
beer, or Scotc ale, at the most.” “timed mm
The soubnette made a grimace.
“ Mr. Mortimer, I hate to say it, but I believe
on are really g‘ptting stingy!” she declared,
‘ Beer. indeed! 0 you take me for a member
of the German 0P0!!!” ‘

Hilda had not paid any attention to this pas-
sageaat-arms, but had contracted her brows in
thought, and at this point she said abruptly:

up for my sex, so I will I

 

 

l

“ This number in Second street where the
stage-hand lives is it not near the Bowery?”

“ I don’t know how the numbers run, but I
should not be surprised if it was,” Mortimer an—
swered.

“ Would it not be possible for us to go there
to-night?” Hilda asked. “ Is it not wise in a
case of this kind to strike while the iron is
hot?”

“ It is ratherlate,” Mortimer observed. “ Still,
being a stage-hand, it IS probable that his people
are accustomed to late hours.”

“It will not do any harm to make the trial,
and it will onlv take us but a short distance out
of our way,” Miss Serene urged.

“ You have the true instinct of the blood-
hound, which leads you to want to take the trail
at once,” Mortimer observed. “ But, as you say,
it cannot do any harm, and we Will go there.”

“ This is uite romantic—on the trail of a
mystery!”  Amherst declared in a melo-
dramatic way. “ And I am with you to the
death, but I want it distinctly understood that
if there is any fighting to be done, Miss Hilda
here is to do it. That is not in my line.”

“ Oh, you need not be alarmed!” Mortimer
said, laughing. “ You will not be called upon
to do anything of that kind. ButI really think,
Miss Serene, that you ought to take charge of
the inquiry for you certainly have displayed
positive genius in the detective line.”

“ Very well, I will be glad to do it, although
I fear new that you are making fun of me,”
Hilda replied. '

“ No, he isn’t!” Miss Amherst asscrted. “ He
is in downright sober earnest, and I only wish
he would make the discovery that I have a
genius for something, but that, I am afraid, is
siniij’ething which no one will ever be able to
i o.

“ Oh, you wrong yourself!” Mortimer de-
clared With a perfectly grave face. “ You have
genius for one thing.’

“ And what is that, I would like to know?”
the girl demanded. “ I fancy that you have
some trap for me now!”

“Sticking your unfortunate friends for the
oysters!” the young actor responded with a
comical glance.

“Ah! didn’t I know you were going to sa
something ugly?” Miss Amherst exclaime ,
pouting. “ I know what you are trying to do:
you want to get me angry so I will say that I
will not cut your old oysters, but that game will
not work, for I am just hungry for o sters, and
as you promised to get me some I she I hold you
to your bargain!”

“Oh, that is all right; I will not back out.
You Will find that I am a man of my word!”
Mortimer declared.

And so, chatting pleasantly as they walked.
the party went on to the Bowery, crossed it and
proceeded to Second street.

The house they sought was not far from the
Bowory, an old-fashioned brick house, now let
out in floors.

“ Do you want us to come in with you?” Mor-
timer asked, as they halied in front of the
dwelling.

“No, I think you had better remain here,”
Hilda replied. “ i think I will beabletoget
along better alone.”

She went up the steps; an old man was sitting
in the doorway smokin a pipe.

Of him Hilda inquir ,

“ John Toody? Yis, ma’am, on the top
fiure,” was the answer.

Up thestalrs went the actress, and when she
reached the top floor she knocked at the first
door she came to.

It was soon Opened and a middle-aged woman
appeared.

“ Does Mr. John Toody live here?” Hilda
asked. ' _

. “ Yes, ma'am,” responded the woman, survey-
ing the visitor with surprise. '

“ I am connected with Niblo's Garden, and

the manager wished me to call and see why Mr. -

Toody was not on hand tonight,” the young ac—
tru~s said in the most matter-of-fact way possi-
ble, just as if she had been accustomed to such
errands all her life.

The expression upon the face of the woman
chan ed immediately.

“ es, ma’am, come in and sit dovm, and I
will tell you all about it; excuse me for keeping
you standing at the door, but I didn’t know
what your business was and I thought it so
strange that a young lady should come inquiring
after my husband.”

Hilda eute ed and accepted the chair that the
woman hrou ht. ‘

. “I thought that the theater people wouldn’t
like it if my husband staid away, but then as it
was only a rehearsal to-night, and a substitute
went for him. I reckoned, maybe, that it would
not make much difference.”

“ The man who came in Mr. Toody’s place did
not give satisfaction, and the manager was
curious to know why your husband did not
come.”

Hilda could see that the woman was troubled
and hestitatod before she spoke.

“Well. miss, I ain’t a-goin to tell you any

lie,” she said at last, “ for I t ink that a party
ought to tell the truth, no matter what happens.

 

My old man takes a drop of something to drink
once in a while, but it isn’t once a year that he
lets the liquor get the best of him; but a man
brought him home about seven o’clock to-night,
and, miSs, he was that full, that he couldn’t
speak. I never saw my old man so had before;
he was jest paralyzed.

“ ‘ Oh, what ever will I do,’ I said to the man,
‘ there’s a rehearsal at the theater to—night. and if
my husband is not there, maybe he will lose his
job.’ This was arter we got Jo n on the bed,
you knew, and he was liken de (l man. ‘011,
that is all right,’ said the teller. ‘I am a stage-
hand from the Grand 0 mm House. and as I am
not working this week, will go to Nillo's in his
place. Write me a bit of a note to the master
carpenter and sign your hUsband’s name to it,’
and, of course, thinking it no harm, and want.
ing to keep the job for my old man, I did it,
miss.”

“ Who was this man?”

“ His name is Finn—Thomas Finn, ma’am.”

“ Ah, you know him, then?”

“ Not I; sure, I never set eyes on him until he
brought my husband in at the door. He told
me his name to put it in the letter.”

“ Your husband knows him, probably?”

“ No, he doesn’t, for he come to himself awhile
ago, and was that sick that I thought he would
die, and I ax him what got into him to go off on
a spree with this Finn, and how was it that he
was paralyzed and the other man wasn’t, and he
let on that he didn’t know the man from Adam.
He jest met him in the saloon, and they had a
couple of drinks together, and then my old man
said his head began to feel queer, and the man
said he would help him home. and that is ever
blessed thing he knew until he woke up that sic
that I was near frighted out of me life.”

“ It certainly is very strange,” Hilda ob.
served. This was for the purpose of leading the
woman on, for as she thought she understood
the game which had been played 'as though she
had lanned it, it was not strange at all to her.

“ es, and my old man can’t get it through
his head at all i” the woman declared. “ It is
not like as thou h he wasn’t a drinking man at
all, and not u to liquor, for he is, and for him
to be paralyzed with a 'few drinks of beer with
a couple of whiskies on top of the beer, is won-
derfu . It has been an awful lesson to him,
miss, and I don’t believe that he will get off again
for a year, so if you will kindly tell the theater

people jest how it is. and how I did my best to v I

send a man in his place. so that the wouldn’t
be bothered, ’cos I didn’t want in o (1 man to
lose his job, I will be much obli .”

“ Oh, that will be all right,”
reassuringly. “ I will see that a properexplan-
ation is made. You need not be alarmed about
your husband losing his situation.” And Hilda
rose to depart, having ascertained all she cared
to know, although, apparently, she had not
gained any information at all.

The woman was profuse with her thanks as
Hilda quitted the apartment, which the actress
accepted in her quiet way as if it was all a mat-
W of course.

When Miss Serene joined the others in the
street they proceeded to retracc their steps.

“ Well, what luck?” Mortimer asked.

Hilda laughed: the declaration of the themes-
mamiger had just come to her mind.

“ Really, I hesitate to tell you,” she said. '“I
was just thinking of what Mr. Gilmore said.
And when he learns the results of .my investi-
gation be will be sure that 1 am a witch.”

“ Is that so?” the young actor asked.

“ Yes, for the affair has turned out exactly as
I redicted.”

Iiss Amherst gave utterance to a little cry of
amazement.

“ Wh , isn’t that strange!”

“ I th nk M'r. Gilmore is right; you certainly . I

are a witch!” Mortimer declared.

“ Witch or no witch I was correct in my cal-
culations. The stage-hand, who is a drinkin
man, was met in a saloon b astranger '
whom he drank: only twice 1: e wife says. but
the liquor rendered him stupidly drunk, and the
stranger brought him home; the li' nor was
drugged, of course; the sti‘au er said wasa
Grand Opera House man. an volunteered to
take the stage-band’s place, getting the woman
to write a note introducing him, and this isall

ilda remarked, ‘

the wife knows of the matter; the husband, rem ‘

dered deathly sick bv the drugged liquor. recov-
ered his senses sufficiently to declare that he
knew nothing whatever of the man.”

“ The inference is plain, then. that the . ;

hand was drugged by thestranger so that a
could take his place behind the scenes at Nib-
lo’s.” the young actor-remarked. thoughtfully.

“ Yes, and you remember that I predicted
that it would not be possmle to gain any, infor-
mation in regard tothe man. I was satisfied

then that it was aliadeep-laid plot, and 
the man gained entrance behind the scenes for ’
the expres purpose of murdering you,"Hildaf  '

declared

“Thehpooition be selected. behind  set .

house. was one well-calculated for the purpose.
No one was near him; all were watc inglthe
scene from the lower wings, and after t
wasflred it would have
cult matter, in the confusion, to fix upon“!

that 
been an extreme y dim- ,

~>E

 

, hearsal took

8

The Actress Detective.

 

 

exact spot from which it had come. There was
a little trap in the stage by the set house where
the gas hose comes through when it is used. I
noticed that this trap was open—I have 9. won-
derful faculty for noticing these little things—-
and the moment the man produced.the pistol,
and I saw that he intended to fire at you, I
immediately suspected that he opened the trap
so he could drop the reVolvor through it after
the shot was fired; then, if he happened to be
suspecte l of having discharged the shot no wea-
pon would have been found upon him.”

i
l
1
l

“ Yes, I see,” Mortimer remarked, astonished ‘
at the faculty With which the girl grasped all <

the circunistancos of the caso.

“The chances were great, though, that he
would not have been detected unless some one
was at hand and witnessed the di~charge of the

weapon, and I was the only soul in the neigh- 1

borhood.”

“ It is truly a mysterious affair, and the more
I reflect upon it the more puzzled I become,” the
actor remarked. “ It does seem as if a despe-
rate attempt had been made to take my life, and
yet I know of no reason why any one should
wish to do me harm. I have no deadly enemy ;
Iam not in any one’s way. as far asI know,
and rthe crime seems to be one without a mo-
tive.

“ Yes, but there is a motive, and a deep one,
or such an assassination would never have been
attempted,” Hilda declared. “ And if I were
you I would be upon my card, for it is likely
that a second attack mayIie made.”

“ If the detective succeeds in arresting this
sceneashifter he may confess,” Mortimer sug-
geste .

Hilda shook her head and smiled.

“ I will assume the witch’s role again, and
preiljict that the man will not be caught,” she
can .

“ Well I confess I am rather of that opinion
myself,” the young actor admitted.

“ It is a very mysterious afi’air,” Miss Am-
herst declared, witha Wise shake of the head.
“ And I feel satisfied that the more we talk
about it, the more puzzled will we become, and,
as far as I can see, there is no place where the
oysters come in, and there’sa perfectly lovely
saloon across the street.”

“ Come over, for heaven’s sake, and get your
oysters!” Mortimer exclaimed. “ And then we
will have some peace.”

After the refreshments were dispatched the
party repaired to the theatrical boarding-house,
where Hilda. procured a room.

Time paSsed on; Logadere was produced and
proved to be a success; Miss Serene played her
part to the satisfaction of all concerned, but it
was evident that she 8 wire the truth when she
declared that she woul never be a great actress
She understood her business, but lacked the di—
vine fire of genius.

But as a witch, as the manager remarked, she
was a big success. Her prediction in regard to
the stage hand provarl to be true.

The best detectives in the city were employed
but no trace could they find of the man who had
called himself Thomas Finn.

CHAPTER IX.
A GILDED wmow.

AND now we must go backalittle and‘de-
scribe a certain scene which occurred about a
month- before the ni ht on which the dress re-
lace at iblo's Garden.

The city 0 New York is truly a cosmopolitan

 

, metropolis; all nations, all classes, are repre-

sented, and he who wishes to study character
cannot find a better fleld, whether he seeks the
millionaire or the be gar.

It is a purse-pron city, too, and nowhere in

I I the world is the mighty dollar more worshiped.

We hear a great deal nowadays of the exclu-
sive set who have been dubbed t e 400, and the
members who proudly fancy that they belong
to this mystical number, and that they are the
blue-blooded aristocracy of the metropolis,
loudly claim that the mere possession of wealth
cannot secure an entrance into their charmed
circle; but this declaration must be taken with
a grain of salt, as the saying is, for it is an un-

- w 'donbted truth thatif a family comes to New
' York with a vast amount of money, and their

past reputation is not’ .00 bad, there are Ve
ew social circles in the metropolis to whic
the cannot gain admittance.

oillustrate, we will take the case of a beauti-
ful blonde, a woman of forty, but extremely

' .well~-preserved, so that she (lid not look tube

within ten years of her age, a queen-like woman,
with a magnificent form, a regal-looking face
which was lit up by as handsome a pair of dark-
blne eyes as ever a woman boasted.

The p0pular name for this fascinating creature
among the young bloods of the town was the

i “Gilded lVidow. ’

She was the relict of old David Darlingtou
who came to this country some thirty odd ears

0 as the secretar of the agent of one o the
firlish steamship ines.

I§arlington was then a man over thirty-five,
a clo-e—fistcd.-shrewd, hard-headed Englis man.

He prospered in the New World, and rose step
by stop until he became the American agent for
tie line, and during the war he used the com-

 

pany’s funds which were in his hands, in addi-
tion to his own, in speculation, and as he was on
a rising market he accumulated great wealth, so
by the time the eighties were reached he was
commonly believed to be worth three or four
millions.

Then this confirmed 01d bachelor, now begin-
ning to show signs of natural decay, and more
cranky and obstinate than ever. surprised all
who knew him by going oil‘ to England and re-
turning with a wife, a young and beautiful wo—
man; she was thirty about at this time, but did
not look to be over tWenty-two or three.

A descendant of one of the first families in
England, he proudly announced to his friends,
one with the blood of all the Howards in her
veins; but to his intimate associates be ad—
mitted that although her birth was one that en—
titled lici‘ to admission to the best society in
England, yet her own immediate family could
not boast of much wealth.

Of course this speedin got around and society
shrugged its shoulders and exclaimed: “Ah, it
is the old stor over again' Age and Mammon
has bought outh and Heauty!” But society
was very kind to the new—made bride though,
and few of the exclusive doors of the metropolis
were closed against her.

Abeautiful English woman of high descent
and backed by two or three millions of dollars
it was no wonder that she was a great social
success.

The old man did not long enjoy his bride, for
about a year before the time that our tale begins
the old man died, leaving a will bequeathing to
the widow all his property.

The moment the death of the old man was an-
nounced great curiosity was excited to know
exactly how much money the old man had left,
but this curiosity was not destined to be satis-
fied. It was just as if the old man had antici—
pated the desire of the public at large to pry into

is affairs and had determined to disappoint
the seekers after knowledge.

To the widow and the old lawyer, who had
always attended to Darlington’s legal matters,
was left the task of settling up the estate, and
as neither of them were disposed to talk about
the matter, so, outside of these two interested

t‘rties no one knew how much the old man
9 t.

The widow behaved with strict propriety;
wore mourning for a full year, and did not ap-
pear in society until that period expired; then
she yielded to the solicitations of her “ dear
friends," and once more became an ornament of
that circle in which she had been wont to shine,
but now it was With a new splendor, for although
old Darlington provided a magnificent house in
Fifth avenue, in the neighborhood of the Cen-
tral Park, and had elegant homes and carriages,
yet he was rather close with his wife in regard
to her allowance, not being able to get away
from the frugal notions rendered necemary by
the struggles of his ear] life.

Now that she had ful swing, she became one
of the recognized leaders of fashion, and cut so
great a shine in the New York’s gay World that
the young bloods soon bestowed upon her the
name of the Gilded Widow.

She laughed when the knowledge of this came
to her ears.

“ Oh, no, that is not right!” she declared.
“ Not gilded, but pure gold 1’

There is envy and malice everywhere, of
course; the higher the station and the greater
the display, the more it is provoked.

Ill-natured feminines, who could not hope to
rival the dashin widow, shrugged their shoul-
ders when she ecame the subject of conversa-
tion, and declared they understood what her
motive was in making all this displa -—she
wanted another husband. She had married for
money--sacrificed herself, of course, and now
she wanted a man somewhere near her own age,
and, acting u n this impression, all the for-
tune-hunters w 0 could gain an entrance to the
charmed circle of society, laid vigorous siege to
the wealthy widow.

It soon became apparent, though, that if the
Gilded Widow wanted to re—enter the matri-
monial state, she had no idea of doing so with
any nniloss suitor, for she ave a decided cold
shou der to all who ease to gain her smiles
who could not boast a. gom , big bank account.

Then the censorious world gave tongue again,
and declared that with the dead man’s fortune,
the widow had inherited his avarice.

There was one exception to the rule which the
Gilded Widow had apparent] formed that none
but wealthy gentlemen woul be allowed in her
train. .

One man who could not boast of money she
favored with her smiles.

A young Englishman, who bore the name of
Leander Brakespear, a fellow of good family,
but of no fortune—that is, nothing to speak of,
as he himself freely admitted.

All the wealth was in another branch of the
family, and as there were a dozen heirs between
himself and the money, there was very little
likelihood of his ever coming in for any of it.

He had a small estate, which produced an in-
ocme snfllcmnt to keep him in fair style, four
hundred pounds a year, or about two thousand

 

dollars in our American money, as he frankly

explained; enough to enable him to live like a
gentleman, but not to indulge in much extrava-
gance.

To the ordinary man, who toils hard for his
living, forty dollars a week wmild seem to be a
princely sum; but to a gentleman who thought
it necessary to live in bachelor apartments, have
a valet to wait upon him, dress in the height of
fashion, and keep a horse, forty dollars a week
does not amount to much.

True, the young man was a “'all street
broker in a small w ay, niadc heavy books on
the races, and being an excellent judge of a
horse, usually won. Then be u as a fine curd-
player, and equally expert at billiards, and so
contrived to pick up considerable money, and
he managed his game in such a way that no one
could accuse him of being a card-sharp, or of
endeavorng to take advantage of men not as
skillful as himself. In line, the man was a high-
toned English gentleman, whi se only fault, as
far as any one could see, consisted in not pos-
Se‘Ssing money.

There was no doubt that he was what he rep-
resentod himself to be, for the great metropolis
has grown suspicious of late years of English
importations, and is careful to ascertain that
the English milord is the genuine article and
not his valet in disguise, before awarding him a
hearty welcome.

But Brakespear was all right; the En lish
consul was personally acquainted with his am-
ily, and all the evil that he knew of the man was
that he had lived in such a manner in England,
and on the Continent, that his expenditures had
far exceeded his income, and the importunities
of his creditors had driven him across the water.

But to run in debt to your tailor and have a
bill at the hatter’s which you cannot meet is
no crime, in fact, the fashionable young gentle-
man rather considers that it is about the right
thing to do, so this circumstance did not dimin-
ish Leander Brakespear's popularity.

In person, the Englishman was about the me-
dium size, well-formed and tolerany muscular.
Had a round, good-looking English face, with}
rather heavy jaw, which denoted that the man
had a will of his own; his hair was light in hue
and slightly curly, his e es a grayish blue, the
only bad feature of his ace, for they were small
and restless, and somehow detracted greatly
from the rest of the countenance.

He bada decidedly English look, so thata
judge of nationalities would not have been in
doubt in regard to his country, yet when he
spoke, had none of the peculiar dranl—the don-
cher-know style which the American ass adopts,
thinking that by so doing he will be taken for
an Englishman.

On the contrary, he spoke as good, pure
English as any Bostonese in the land.

Such a fellow as Brakespear ought to have
made a rich match with some of our American
beauties who have the wherewithal to enhance
their charms, butisomeway he did not seem to
be successful with the ladies.

Perhaps it was because he paid such ardent
attention to the Gilded Widow, and the young
buds of society resented his overlookin their
charms for those of the wealthy Mrs.
Darlin ton.

Possx 1y he thought he stood more chance
with the widow than with the young girls, but

the wise-heads, who had been acquainted with '

Mrs. Darlington eVer since the old man intro-
duceth to New York society as his wife, laugh-
ed at the idea that she would ever be foolish
enough to marry the penniless Englishman.

But when they were questioned why it was,
that if she had no seriOUS intentions regarding
him that she permitted the man to dance at-
tendance upon her, they were at fault.

It was a questipn they ,could not answer: she
had some object in view, of course; they all
agreed as to that, for her acquaintances had
learned that the Gilded Widow was very shrewd
and extremely far-seeing; not the sort of woman
to make a blunder, but what the object was
they could not guess. . ,

It was afternoon at the time ‘we introduce the
two to the notice of our readers; they were
seated by one of the parlor windows in Mrs.
Darlington’s Mansion, gazing out upon the end—
less procession,‘ promenading up and down the
avenue.

Brakespear had just called and had been con-
ducted to theiwidow’s presence, who invited him
to take a seat by her at the window, and ex.
pressed her leuure at seeing him.

“I am g ad on have come," she said. “I
have been out o sorts this afternoon, and want.
ed some one to talk to,” she remarked, carelessly
pulling the ears of the silken-haired Skye-terrier,
which nestled in her lap.

“ I am very glad that I came then,” the Eng-
lishman remarked, delighted at his favorable re-
ce tion.

e had called for a particular purpose this
afternoon, and the words of Mrs. Darlington he
took as omens of success.

He had made up his mind to brin , matters to
a crisis. For three months he had a paying
the Gilded Widow the most devoted attention,
and he thou ht that it was almost time ‘that 
aspertained’how she really felt in regard to his
an t. ‘

 

 

lberta ‘

 

 

 

 

 

 

, danger, and the den had come to

“ Yes, I have been very dull and listless, and
I needed some one to entertain me."

Here was a favorable opportunity to intro—
duce what he wanted to say, and he was quick
to improve it.

“ An, my dear Mrs. Darlington, if you would
only give me th; right to he always by )our
side I feel sure I could drive the dull Spells
away!" he declared in low, deep, earnest tones.
and then be cast :1 glance around, us if he wislml
to asture himself that he could speak without
dun {er of being overheard.

The widow understood the meaning of the

lance.

g “ Do not be afraid; you can speak freely,” she
said, “ No one can play the eavesdropper here.
This isnot one of the cheap modern houses, where
the walls are so thinnand so poorly constructed,
that aconversation in one room can be over—
heard in another. When the doors are closed,
as at present, you can speak with perfect assur-
ance that no one will hear your words but the
person to whom they are addressed.”

“ I am glad of that. for I have something to
say to you which is to me of the utmost impor-
tame, and it is intended for your ears alone.”

She looked at him for a moment, her keen,
(1111 k blue eyes full of merriment.

“ I think I can guess what you are going 00
say, Mr. Brakespear,” she remarked. “And I
suppose you might as well say it first as last. I
am no bird to play the embarrassed maiden at
wlj'lt I had foreseen must come some time, so, go
ahead and speak.” _

The gentleman was cons1derably surprised at
the frankness of this speech, and his keen Wits
took the alarm, for he did not consider that it
was encouraging, still, as he had commenced he
had determined to go on.

“You are very kind," he said. “ You must
have seen, Mrs. Darlington, that your beauty
and your goodness have made a deep impression
upon me, and though our acquaintance is not a
long one, yet since it has existed l have learned
to esteem you above all women whom I have
ever met. I have striven to show you by all
means in my power how much I prize your
friendship, and now I have woke to the knowl-
edge that if I were to be deprived of your
society the Worll would be a dreary blank in-
deud to me. May I venture to hope that the
time will some day come when you will be will-
ing to allOW me the proud privilege of guarding
you from all cares and troubles?”

The widow laughed merrily, not at all affect—
ed by the seriousness of the gentleman.

“My dear Leander, you do it extremely well 2"
she exclaimed in the most familiar manner pos-
sible. “I presume that since I laid aside my
widow’s weeds between twenty and thirty gen-
tlemen have done me the honor of offering to re—
lieve me from all future cares, and I am certain
that not one of them proposed as nicely as you
have done.”

The Englishman felt annoyed by both the
widow‘s Words and her manner.

“ Mrs. Darlington—Alberta—do not misun.
derstand me! I am really and truly in earnestl”
he exclaimed.

“ Oh, yes; I understand that, but, my dear
Mr. Brakespear, you are.not so much in earnest
as to be capable of going and doing something
desperate if I refuse your offer, ehi’ the widow

asked. archly. I _ e

“ Well, Mrs. Darlin ton, if you put it that
way, I don’t know as would be the Bert of a'
man to go and hang my harp on a willow tree,
even if my suit were to be rejected by the wo.
man I loved,” Brakespear replied, the widow’s
frankness being contagious.

“Oh, no; you are too sensible a mantodo
anything so foolishi” she declared. “ If you
were. not we would not be as good friends as we
are. a

“ Really you flatter me,” the Englishman re-
sponded with a bow.

“ No, no, it is the truth. and to tell the truth
is not to flatter!” she exclaimed. “Now in re-
gard to your proposal, Mr. Brakespear, I shall
not heat about the bush at all, but Will be frank,
plain and straightforward with you, and you
must not be offended at What I 3833”

This was no; a promising nning, but the
gentleman concealed his un ness, and said

hat he was uite sure that she could not say
anvthln too end him. ‘

“ W_el , I don’t know about that—truth is
sometimes very unpleasant,” she remarked, dry-
ly. “ But as I think that, under the circum-
stances, we had better come to an understand-
mg, I will say what I have on my mind."

Certainly! 3peak with the utmost frankneflB.
I beg!" the gentleman exclaimed.

CHAPTER X,
THE 3mm!) 
Amaoucn the gentleman apok h he
was really anxious to learn the la?! .’3 $225 yet,
in reality, he did not like the litna n at all for
he" had an impression that he was going to fie."-
something unpleasant.
He was a man nick to detect the ag mcb of
m that a
blow was about to fall, but as to exact. what
dupe it would come in he had no concept on.

 

The Actress Detective.

“ Now, Mr. Brakespear, I am going to be real-
ly brutally frank with you, and you must not be
offended, for I assure you that I have a good
reasmi for acting as I do,” was the startling an-
nouncement that the widow made.

“ Any one who has the pleasure of your ac-
quaintance. Mrs. Darlington, knows that you
are too intelligent to adopt any Course Without
a good reason!” the gentleman declared, gal-
lantly.

“ Thank you for the compliment,” she said,
with a smile. “ Mr. Brukespear, let me ask you
in the frnnkest pOSSliIiH manner, supposing Ihad
been a woman utterly without fortune, would
you have desired to make me your wife?”

“ ()h, Mrs. Darlington surely you do not
think that it  your wealth that alone has at-
tracted me?” he exclaimed.

“ No, no, i am vain enough to believe that my
persmial appearance had somethngr to do with
itl" she replied. “ I do not doubt that you
would have admired me even if I had not been
worth a dollar, but to admire a woman is one
thing and to marry her is quite another.

“ Come now be honest with me, as I shall be
with you! It' i were poor you could not afford
to marry me, no matter how beautiful and at-
tractive i might be. When poverty comes in at
the door love flies out of the window, you
know.”

“ Yes, that is very true, I will admit that. I
presume that if you had not been situated as
you are, I should have hesitated to pay my ad-
dresses to you, for I am a poor man and on my
limited income could not possibly support a
wife in any kind of style; still, I hope that you
will not look upon me in the light of a fortune-
hunter.”

“ Oh, no, a man should have his wits about
him when he falls in love—or to speak correctly,
when he thinks of marrying,” the lady re—
marked. " For a man to marry a penniless
woman, and he himself without fortune, is little
better than a crime, for he dooms both himself
and the woman he marries to a life of misery.”

“ Yes, you are right.”

“ Now if I was poor you could not afford to
marr_ me?”

“ o, I .fear not, though your beauty and ac-
complishments would be apt to make a man do
desperate things.” .

“ A truce to compliments!” Mrs. Darlington
exclaimed a little impatiently. “ We are talking
business now, not dealing in sentiment.”

“ Yes, yes, of course,’ responded Brakes r,
who did not know what to make of the WldJW.

“ And as you are poor, I cannot aficrd to
marry you. even if I loved you, which I do not,”
she remarked, frankly.

“ Do not be wounded by my bluntness,” she
continued. “ It is no discredit to you that I

have not been impressed with your attentions.

I do not think the man lives upon the earth who
can make an impression upon me. You must
remember that my marital ex )erience has been
a peculiar one: I was an 01 man’s darlin ,
which, in nine cases out of ten, means an od
man’s slave!”

And the proud lips of the woman curled with
anger as she spoke.

“ It was so in my case. I was truly aslave
to all intents and urposes, although my chains
were golden ones, ut they were chains, just the
same. and fettered my movements fully as
much as though they had been forged of iron.
And now that my master is dead I am not free,
although at first I thought I was, but he ar-
ran ed his aflairs in such a was that I am con~
fin to a certain income, andi I should marry

that would be forfeited, so you see, that, under.

the circumstances, I could not afford to marry
you, nor you to marr me.”

Brak ' looked ecidedly glum; this was a
revelation as unex ted as it was disagreeable.

“_ pon my wor I had no idea that you were
so situated 1" he exclaimed.

“ You are the only one, with the exception of
the lawyer who doles out my money to me, who
knows the facts in the case, and I rely upon you
to keep the matter a secret.”

“ You may depend upon my discretion,” the
gentleman declared. '

“Myposition is an intolerable one!” she ex-
claimed, impatiently, her beautiful face dis-
figured with the evil lines of passion. “My in-
come is not half lar o enough to satisfy my
wants. I am overh and ears in debt, and
although my creditors do not trouble me for
payment, because they think that I am a very
rich woman, and that the reason I do not pay
promptly is because Iam careless and pay little
attention to money matters. yet if they once
got an idea of how I am really situated they
would be after me like a pack of hungry

wolves!”
Brakespear was amazed at the utter free-
dom With which the woman kc, and the bet-

ter nature of the man impe led him to caution

her.

“ My dear Mrs. Burlington, do you think that
it is Wise to make these disclosures?” he said.
“ I am, of. course, greatly flattered at the con-
fidence which it shows you have in my discre-
tion, but i trust you will pardon me if I say you
are acting foolishly to trust anybody with such
vital secrets. I am an old and experienced man

 

9

of the world, and, believe me, I know of what i
speak.”

The woman burst into a laugh, but one in
which there was little merriment.

“ Upon my word you are not a bad felloiv to
take the trouble to warn me not to place mystli'
in your power!” she exclaimed. “ Well. it
shows that the good opinion that I had of you
was not without a strong foundation.

“ But do not be alarmed.
the conclusion that I cannot take care of myself,
for [can ; no woman in this world better able,
for what I have not seen of life, both high and
low. is not worth seeing.”

“ You astonish me!”

“ It is the truth: and now I am going to Show
how much I trust you by revealing another
secret.”

A look of surprise appeared (in the English-
man’s face. This woman was a rl'ldle.

“ IVlu-rc do you suppose my husband found
me?"

“ I hav’n‘t an ideal”

“ Behind the bar of a gin palace in Bir-
mingham!” the woman exclaimed with bitter
accent.

“ Is it ible?”

“ It is the truth. I was a bar-maid, although
the blood of one of the oldest families in Eng-
land is in my veins. My father at one time was
well-to-(lo— had a flourishing factory in a little
village in Lancashire, but in an evil hour he
took a nephew in as manager, and the man re-
paid the kindness by bolting to America with
all the money he could lay his hands upon.

“ The blow killed my father; he was an old
man and was not able to bear up under the
calamity: my mother speedily followed him into
the grave, and I was cast upon the cruel mercies
of the world. I was then only about eight years
old; the wife of a man who kept a public house
in Birmingham happened to take a fancy to me
and, being a childless woman, adopted me; \\ ith
them I remained, taking my place behind the
bar when I grew old enough.

“ It was not a very nice public either, for
among the police it bore the reputation of being
a house-of-cnll for thieves, and many an ‘unfcr-
tunate wretch have I seen taken out of the tap-
room by the datectives.

—\

The face of Brakespear darkened and a pecu‘ I

liar look came into his eyes.

The woman was watching him with the eyes
of a hawk, yet she did not betray that she no-
ticed the change in his face.

“ I suppose you see now I was right when I
told on that I had seen a deal of life,” she sat".

“ es, and I am simply astounded l” he rc-

l .

“ When I was twenty, both of my protectors
died suddenly, and as they were heavily in del‘ t
nothing came to me. But the new man who
took the place was glad to have me remain, and
there I stayed until my (pretty face caught Mr.
Darlington 3 fancy. an be trauSplanted me.
from the gin-palaceto his Fifth avenue mansion;
the Birmingham bar-maid took a place among
the matrons of New York 1” and then the woman
laughed merrilly.

“ My dear rs. Darlington, I can hardly be.-

Do not jump to ,

/,

-
l

lieve that this story can be true!” Brakespearx ’

exclaimed, earnestly. “ And if it is, you are
the most imprudent woman in the world totrust
such a secret to any one.”

“ Oh, I am not afraid to have you know it,"
the woman answered, carelessly. “ I feel sure
that you can be trusted.”

“ It would be wiser to keep the knowledge to‘ _,

yourself 1” he persisted”

“ What a pretty sca
wear!” she exclaimed, abruptly.
odd device, tool The beautiful hand of a wet“
man, exquisitely beautiful, done 111 gold, and.
clasping the tiny diamond between the thumb
and the forefingers. It is really charming! Do,
you know that I took particular notice of;
that pin when an were introduced to me. I
noticed the pin fore I even glanced at your
face. ’ ,~

Brakespear seemed ill at ease, although he
strove not to appear so. ~

“Oh, it is a mere bauble. I picked it up
somewhere for a trifle. It is avery common?
device; you willseeadozen of them in every
jewelry store.” ‘ .

“ Yes, I have seen the ones to which you ‘re-J
fer, but they are not at all like yours. You,
must take notice the next time you seethem
and you will soon detect the difference.” _

“ Oh there cannot be much." he replied, and

rf-pin that is that you

 

 

 

as he lipoke, he watched Mrs. Burlington in a :

curious way out of the corner of his eye.

She did not seem to notice his scrutiny. '

“ Your scarf-pin reminds me of a strange as
cident that occurred when I was serving behind‘
the bar,” she observed. “As I told you,our
public-house did not bear a good 
amo fireflies, and they were right in their
suspic ns t a number of our constant (3.:
tumors were men whose way of . life no

crooked. ‘ _
“ I remember one young fellow in particularly "

to whom I took quite a liking. He  
tomarry him, butI had no mind to I! 
fortunes with that of the boldest crgcksmon' -;
Europe; his name was Brumagen Bill!”

“ And such an r

 

s ,

-

10

The Actress Detective.

 

 

Brakespear’s nerves quivered, but slight as
was the start, it was not unnoticed by Mrs. Dar-
lington.

“ Why do you start?” she asked.“ Is the name
familiar to you ?”

“ Ye—yes; I think I have read it in' a police
report. It was some years ago, across the
water.”

“ The man’s right name was IVilliam Hodges,”
she remarked. “ He was a good-looking fellow,
with dark hair, and a round, rosy, English
face. He was taken by the police—caught red-
handed, robbing a country bank in Yorkshire;
was sentenced to transportation for life, and, I
suppose, poor fellow, that he is in Australia now,
if he has not died meanwhile. It was nearly
twenty~flve years ago that Brumagen Bill want-
ed me to be his sweetheart. I was a irl of fif-
teen then, and my hair was dark. had not
bleached it to its present color.

“Dear me! how time files! It seems only a

' year or two' ago since this young fellow—he

was only a couple of years older than myself——
used to tell me how he fooled the police, and
‘ crhcked his cribs ’ as he used to say; you see I
have not forgotten the thieves’ argot. He was
quite a hero in my eyes. ,

“ He too Wore a pin the shape of a woman’s
hand, and one day, when he was in a confiden-

' tial mood, he told me that there wasastory

connected with the pin.

“ It was the badge of a secret society of
criminals, known as the Brothers of the invisi—
ble Hand, and it was the custom of the members
of the band to wear some article of jewelry in

. the shape of a beautiful Woman’s hand, so that

' Fifth avenue just at dusk one day.

they would be known to each other, and all who
joined the organization took a fearful oath in
which they bound themselves to aid by all
means in their power any brother who should
be in distress.”

“ Quite romantic!” Brakespear observed; by
this time he had entirely recovered his com-

posure. ,
“ Oh, yes, and then it is true, too, but then

you knowktruth is always stranger than flc—

tion.”

“ I believe you are right.” i '

“ And then, in addition to wearing the golden
hand badge, all members of the organization, at
the time of joining the band, had a dainty wo-
man’s hand tattooed somewhere upon their per-
son in light vermilion, so that it is a faint pink
in color after a flow months have elapsed.”

“ Quite an od mark.”

“ Yes, twice since I have been in America-—
twice since I have been the wife of David Dar-
lington had I seen the brand of the Invisible
Bend,” the lady remarked.

“The first time was when I was coming up
A man
snatched my pocketbook from my hand and
made off with it. He was pursued and cap-
tured, but had managed to turn the book over
to a confederate so that it was not found upon
him when he was searched.

“He was brought before me to be identified.
I was just about to say, ‘ Yes, that is the man,
take him away !’ when I caught sight of a faint
pink mark on the fellow’s throat. I approach-

 ed him, apparently for the purpose of making

sure that he was the party, but in reality to see
if he did really bear the rand of the Invisible

. Hand, and when I saw that there was no mis—

take about the matter, to the amaZement of the
fellow, I declared that I did not think he was
ta: man, and would not be willing to swear to
j .

“ And so he Went free?”

“Yes. The next time I saw the mark was

' , when a gentleman happened to bend his head so

that I could look down upon it, and there, just
over the right ear, in among the roots of the
hair, I saw the Invisible Hand shine. I knew

- exactly where to look on this occasion, fora
" 111(1in of my acquaintance has the mark in the
.u _

same lace.
" Yes, understand,” Brakespear said, with a
smile. “ And now that you have made this ex-

' planation, I suppose you have something else to
4 ea
_ I he. Burlington nodded assent.

 been cut from a newspape

CHAPTER XI.
m MILLION raar WAITS FOR AN HEIB.
Tm: Gilded Widow took a slip which had
r from her pocket-

\' book, and handed it to the Englishman.

 

"dress White & White, Houston,

Brakespear read it aloud.

" Mormation wanted of the next of kin of Natlmn
Smith. of Houston. Texas, lately deceased. supposed
to have been a native of Blrmin ham. England. Ad-

exas, U. S.”
“ This man has left an estate, I presume,” the
lishman remarked, after he had finished the
red ing of the notice.

“ Yes, Over a million of dollars!”

Brakespear started in amazement.

“ Is it possible!”

“ Yes, no doubt about it whatever, and that

., milign now, in the State of Texas, waits for an

ir.

“Welling glrulegtw'hen : man dliles worth a
~fiflono o era is no genera ynecessary
to adva'rtise for heirs; they spring up like mush-
runs . .

 

“ In this case no one has come forward.”

“That is strangel”

“No, for Nathan Smith is not the full name
of the dead man. There have been about a thou-
sand Smiths to see the lawyer, so they told me,
but none of them were able to make out that
they were in the slightest degree related to this
Nathan Smith.”

“ You have seen these lawyers, then ’9”

“ Yes, I went to Houston on purpose, and
learned all the particulars of the affair.”

“But I do not understand,” Brakespear re-
marked, puzzled. “Why do you take any in-
terest in the matter?”

“ It is easily explained. I told you of a
nephew of my father who absconded with my
father’s money, and really drove both my
father and mother into an untimely grave.”

“ Yes, I remember.”

“ The name of that nephew was Nathan Smith
Throckmorton.”

“ Ah, yes, I see.”

“ After his flight my father put detectives on
his track. He was supposed to have sailed for
America, and in time the detectives discovered
that he was believed to have taken refuge at
Houston, Texas. They sent for money, so as to
be able to go on there, and bring him back.
When the tidings reached I England, both my
parents were dead, there was no one, to act for
me, the orphan, and so the search was given up,
and the rascal ,went free.”

“Yes, such is the case very often; it takes
money to get justice in this world.”

“ By accident 1 hap nod to see this next of
kin advertisement. remembered that the de—
tectives believed the absConder had taken refuge
in Houston, Texas, and I immediately jumped
tothe conclusion that this Nathan Smith was
my runaway Cousin, so I went on there and in-
vestigated the matter.”

“ And you discovered that it was so?”

“ Yes, the rascal had found refuge at that
distant point. and then as time passed on, and
no attempt was made to pursue him—undoubt-
edly he saw by the English papers that both my
father and mother were dead—he went into
business, started a factory exactly like the one
in England, which he had ruined, and in time
acquired a colossal fortune; every penny of it,
too, rightly belongs to me, for it was by the aid
of the money which he stole from my father that
he was able to start his factory.” '

“ But can you rove that this Nathan Smith
and your cousin, athan Smith Throckmorton
are one and the same?” Brakespear asked.

“ Oh, yes, without any trouble: there is
p‘enty of evidence, which I, who know all the
facts in the case, can get at, but the lawyer,
working in the dark, without any suspicion that
Nathan Smith was not his full name, will never
hit upon the truth.”

“ Yes, I see; the case seems to be a plain one.
You must go to Houston, reveal the truth to the
lawyer, and claim the property. Upon my
word, a million of dollars will come in very
handy to on just now,” and the Englishman
rubbed his ands briskly together with a deal of
satisfaction.

“ Oh, no, I cannot do that.”

“ Why not?”

“ To allow the lawyer to know the true facts
of the case would be to take the money com-
plete] out of my reach.”

“ ow so?” Brakespear exclaimed.

“ I am not the next of kin.”

" Oh! is that true?”

“ Yes, there are two heirs certain who come
in before I do, although, justly, it all ought to
come to me. I consulted counsel when I was in
Texas to see if it was not possible to bring a suit
as my father’s kin to recover the stolen money,
but I found that it was too late.”

“ Ah, you can trust these law are to have all
sorts of quibbles in the laws so t at it is a hard
matter to obtain justice, no matter how ood
the case is, unless you pay as much as the t ing
is worth,” the Englishman exclaimed, in a tone
which indicated that he had little respect for
either law or lawyers.

“ Nathan Throckmorton had three sisters who
came to this country before he did, and all three
married here—Agatha, Katherine, and Martha.’
The moment I discovered that there was a mill-
ion at stake I employed detectives to ascertain
all they could in regard to the sisters."

“ That was wise. ’

“ Of A atha and Katherine I found traces;
both are end, but left children. Martha has ut-
terly disappeared, and I was not able to find out
anything in regard to her—whether she is alive
or dead—although the presumption is that she is
not living, but she may have left a large family
behind.”

“ Very likely she did,” Brakespear observed.
“ It is the unexpected that always nap ns, and
as there is a million of dollars wait mg to be
claimed, the chances are that Martha’s descend-
ants will number a dozen or two.

“ I do not think so," Mrs. Darlington re-
lied. “When last heard from she was living
n San Francisco, and from the fact- that no

word has come from her, or from any child _of
hers for fifteen years. it would seem to in-
giocigg, that she is dead, and that she left no

 

“ Yes, that is certainly a fair inference to
draw,” the Englishman observed, thoughtfully.

“Do you comprehend the situation now!"
Mrs. Darliugton asked, her voice growing un-
consciously deep, and she cast a glance full of
meaning at Brakespear as she spoke.

“ Yes, I think I do. In the first place there
iS a million of dollars—"

“ ()ver a million really!”

“ We will confine ourselves to round figures.
Between you and that million stand two

, lives.”

“ Yes—two only !” And again a dark look,
full of fearful meaning was on the face of the
WOIIIHD. ‘

“ “'ho are the two?”

“ One of the two, the elder, is the child of the
oldest sister, Agatha: he is an actor by profes-
sion, and I saw by one of the morning journals
that he is to play the leading part in a new play
soon to be presented at Niblo’s Garden.”

“ His name?” Brakespear asked, and he got
out his memorandum—book.

“ James Mortimer.”

“ Do you know anything about him?”

“ Nothing!”

“Now for number two.” .

“ A young girl, employed as a saleslady in
Ridley’s drygoods store on Grand street.”

“ And her name?”

“ Katherine Martha Green.”

2‘ Named after her mother and her aunt!”

i Yes.”

“ Do you know anything about her?”

“ Yes, I went and bought some goods so as to
be able to see what she was like. She is a tall,
rather pretty girl, dark like a Jewess; and
boards in Grand street near Essex.”

Brakcspear finished his memorandums, and
then reflected a moment.

“ Both of the parents of these two parties are
dead 3” he said.

“ Yes, all the sisters died young.”

“ As long as this actor and this saleslady live,
you stand no chance for the million?” the

‘nglishman mused.

“ Not the slightest!”

“ If they should die—and human life is very
uncertain, you know—there is not anything
that can prevent you from obtaining all the
estate?”

“ Only the appearance of Martha, or Martha’s I

heirs.”

“ Humph! I don't like the Martha business at
all!” Brakespear exclaimed.

“It is the unknown danger that is always
terrible!” Mrs. Darlington declared.

“ If the chance of accident should take this
actor and saleslady out of the world, and you
claim the Texas estate, produce the proof that
the dead man was your cousin, and then, just as

non get everything nicely arranged, if this

Iartha, or Martha’s heirs, should make their
appearance, it would be remarkably awk-
ward?”

“ Yes, but we will have to run that risk. I
cannot see any other course open to us,” the
woman remarked, reflectively.

" No, there isn’t anythin else that we can do;
we must go ahead and ta e our chances. Did
you employ detectives in San Francisco to see if
any clew to Martha, or Martha‘s heirs, could be
found?”

“ Oh, yes, on may be sure that I did not
neglect a sing e point. ’ .

‘ And no information was gained?"

“ No, not the slightest. ,Martha and her hus-
band, George Cauldwell, a jeweler by trade, left
New York about fifteen years ago for San
Francisco, and from that time to this no word
has ever come from them.” ' -

“ Did they have children?”

" Three, two girls and a boy.”

“ Would they be of age howl”

“ Yes, all of them.”

“ That is ugly—extreme] ugl l” Brakespear
exclaimed with a doubtf sha e of the head.
“ It may be possible that the children are all
married and have families of their own, then
there would be a dozen heirs to claim a share in
the estate.” .

“ Yes, and any one of them would come in
before me, ' Mrs. Darlington observed, a dark
and ugly look upon her beautifulface.

“ T e first move to bemade is to advertise
in all the leading newspapers between here and
the Golden Gate for information in regard to
the heirs of Geor e Cauldwell; we will not men-
tion the woman, or his heirs are hers.”

Mrs. Darlington shook her head.

“ No use,” 3 c said.

“ Why not?”

“ I have tried it.”

“ And without success?”

“ Not the least! The advertisement was cau-
tiously worded, so as not to exmte sus icion, but
no word came from the right George auldwell,
althought plenty of wrong ones answered.”

“ Well, We must go ahead then on the theory
that neither Martha nor her heirs are in the land
of the living.”

“ I do not see any other course 0 n to us.”

“ No, and if all t e advertising id not cause
them to appear it is not likely that they will
come ,forward when no effort is made to find
them. '

 

-cwmi bum .

 

m..- .1». .. .. .

The Actress Detective.

11

 

 

“ But, as you observed, you know, it is the un-
expected that always happens.”

“ We must take our chances. I will proceed
at once to see what this actor and saleslady are
like. It is probable that the Brothers of the ln-
visible Band will have to take an active part in
this matter. ”

“ Yes; by the way, did you ever notice my
diamond brooch?” and she called attention to
the ornament at her neck.

“ Oh, yes, I have seen it: it is very beautiful,”
and then upon closer inspection, he uttered a
cry of surprise.

“Do you see anything strange?”

“ Yes, a tiny golden hand in among the dia-
monds.”

“ That is almost an invisible hand, eh?” she
lau lied.

“ es, this world is a narrow one after all, for
here in America we meet the same people with
whom we jostled elbows in England.”

A few more Words of unimportant conversa-
tion and Brakespeur took his departure, and he
had much to meditate upon as he walked down
the avenue.

“Well, I didn‘t win the widOW,” he mutter-
ed, “ but I will play good cards for a million 1”

 

CHAPTER XII.
run SALESLADY.

RIDLEY’s mammoth store in Grand street,
on which is termed the East Side of New York,
is one of those grand bazars where almost any-
thing can be bought.

In the old days a great deal of fun used to be
popped at the common country store, for, as a
wit remarked, in one of them almost anything
from a needle to an anchor could be bought, and
the modern big store of the metropolis is pat-
terned a good deal after the despised country

:ho .

\llith the exception of groceries, almost any-
thing can be purchased in one of the great me-
tropolitan bazars.

And this one of which we write, the cheap
store of the great democratic part of the me-
tropolis, compared favorable~in size and impor-
tance with any of its rivals.

A regiment of girls are employed and it is no
exaggeration to say that they wait upon thous~
ands of customers daily.

It was near the close of a long autumn day and

the 'eyes of the tired salesladies were directed
anxioust toward the door, ini iatient to witness
the closing of the portals, \\ hicli would be to them
a signal that their day's toil was nearly over.
_ At six promptly the doors are closed, no more
customers are admitted, and as soon as hose
within the establishment are waited upon, the
girls are at liberty to go home, first being
obliged to put their counters in order.

The hands upon the clock pointed to the hour
of six. The porters took their stations at the
doors, and from the lips of the army of sales-
ladies came a great sigh of relief.

As it happened, there was only one customer
at the ribbon counter, where two pretty young
girls were in attendance.

()ne of the torments of the storekeeper, the
female shopper, who doesn’t know what she
wants, and pulls over everything within reach
in order to enable her to ma 'e up’her mind.

She departed without purchasm anything,

'ust as the hour of six struck, an _ the sales-
adies set to work to put the ribbons in order,'

“ 0h, Katherine, did you read the Ladtes’
Own Journal this week?” asked one of the irls,
«a slender blonde, of her companion, a tall, ark,
willowy girl, who looked like a Jewess.

“ No, haven’t had time yet. I generally
read it on Sunday, but Miss Cohen lent me a
novel, and as she was in a hurry to get it back,
I let the newspaper go and read that instead.”

“ Well, that story by The Princess May, is
too sweet for anything!” the other cried, in rap-
ture, and as she talked, her busy fingers were
working away at the ribbons with wonderful
rapidity. ‘

“ You know how badly off the Lady Mar-
guerite was in the last» paper—hOW her villain-
ous uncle had her turned out of her cottage-
she and her poor, dear mother, because she
couldn’t pay the rent, and wasn’t willing to
marr his scamp of a son?”

“ 98. 3’08, I remember!” ' _

“ You recollect how splendidly it ended in the
last Paper? ' Marry my son, Sir Rupert de Brig-
adier. OI‘IOUt you 80 to starve in the streets!’ ”

“ 0h. )‘98. 11} was quite interesting,” the tall
girl said. but itwas plain that she did not take
the interest in it that her vivacious companion

did.

" Well, in the paper this week, justastbe
horrid sheriff’s men are going to throw the r
old widow’s furniture ate the s aong
comes a stranger. “ 8"“ bis. .Sflifl man with
ahuge beard. find a completion as dar ass
negro's, and he 89151238” he. ‘Can on tell me:
young lady, where dy MargueriteDe Brig.-
adier now resides, the peerless gm .110. five
years ago, was the beauty'and the belle of you-
der proud castle? And it is her other uncle,
Katherine the man whom everybody th in
was killed in Egyfit, come back With no on of
money, and then t 0 story goes on to tell how

 

I he drove the officers out with his cane and the

terrible time he had when he got hold of the
mean uncle who has done nothing but persecute
poor, dear Lady Marguerite ever since her father
died, and he managed to cheat her out of her
propei'ty——and I suppose the next number will
end the story, for now she will be able to marry
the poor young artist, who is so talented, but
hasn’t money to help him get ahead.
ei'ine, wouldn’t it be nice if we had a rich uncle,
who would come from some far-off place, with
lots of money, so we could have everything we
wanted, but I am afraid that there is no such
good luck in store for us. I have three or four
uncles, but they are all as poor as Job’s turkey!”
and the girl heaved a deep sigh.

“ lVell, I have an uncle who went to Califor-
nia Some fifteen years ago, and has never been
heard of since,” the other girl remarked.

“ Is that so?" cried the blonde, interested im-
mediately. “Oh, wouldn’t it be just too sweet
if he were to come back some day with lots of
money and make on his heir?”

“ I am afraid t new is no such good luck in
store for me.”

“ Then there would be no more stufi‘y old
shops for you and having to worry your brains
out to wait on fussy old women who want to
match a shade which they bought ‘ on] last
week,’ when they know very well that it was
six months ago and not here at all but at some
Chen J, special sale.”

“ \then mother was alive she was always ex-
pected to hear from my aunt, or uncle, some
day, for they were great friends, and I believe
uncle thought just as much of mother as if he
had been her own true brother instead of one
only by marriage,” the girLobserved.

By this time they had completed the arrange-
ment of their counter, so they went for their
hats and wraps and having got them, repaired to
the street.

As they passed through the door they stopped
for a moment to exchange a word with the por-
ter, and as they did so, a rather tall, smoothly-
sliaven entleman, dressed in a dark business
suit, an who had very much the appearance of
a minister, came up.

“ My good sir,’\he said, to the porter, in a
smooth, persuasive tone of voice, “ can you tell
me if a young lady by the name of Katherine
Green is employed in this establishment?”

The young girls stared at the stranger, and
the porter, very much impressed with the ap-
pearaLce of the gentleman, "responded:

“ Yes, sir, this is the young lady,” and he
nodded to them“ dark gir .

The stranger made the mistake of assuming
thaw meant the vivacious blonde girl, and he
100‘ at her with considerable astonishment.

“ Bless me i” he exclaimed. “ I never should
have known you in the world! How you have
changed since you were achild.”

“ Oh, sir, you have made a mistake!” the
blonde declared; she was never at a loss for
words. “ I am not Miss Green; it is this lady.
My name is Mathews.”

“ Ah, yes, I see!” and the stranger smiled
blandly upon the two. “ Well,well, you do look
something like what I expected to see, but you
take after your father much more than after

our oor mother,” and here the gentleman
eav a doe sigh, and the girls fancied that
there was a 8 fight trace of moisture in his eyes.

Miss Mathews was quivering with excitement,
for she was sure that the visit of the stranger
would be productive of some important result.

She was a. hungry reader of all the light,
cheap, love literature of the day, and in many
of her favorite stories the mysterious strangers
who appeared in this unexpected manner always
turnei out to be somebody of im rtanoe.

“ Yes, sir, mother was li ht, w ile Iam dark,”
Katherine remarked. a blood, too, was
throbbing high in her veins, for there was a
novel in this evidently well-to-do stranger
acco ng her and speaking of her parents which
impressed ’her greatly.

‘ And she was short, while you are tall but
there you take after dyour father again,” the
stran er remarked, an at this point there came
a ms of rls from the store so that the three
had to ma 0 room.

“ We are in the way here, I see,” the stranger
added. _“ If you have no objections, young
ladies, Will you walk to the corner, where we
will be able to converse in ce, for I havea
few questions which I should ike to ask on.”

Of course the girls were uito willi g, for
their curiosity ha been grea y excited by the
gentleman's words.

At the corner they drew out of the human
life-current ebbin up and down Grand street,
filling the sidew 1: so that there was hardly
room to walk. Allen street, into which they

enue.
A few yards from the corner the gentleman
halted and addressed the girls in his benevolent

wa '.
‘9 Now, my dear young lady, would you have
any objections to answering a few questions

which I should like to put to you in regard to
your family? I‘ think I was acquainted with
your father and mother.” he said, and the girls
ancigd that his voice trembled slightly at the

turned, was deserted compared to the main av-l

L)“, Kath' ;

 

end of the sentence, and again the moisture
seemed to gather in his eyes.

Evidently he was aware of this fact, for he at-
tempted to conceal it by remarking that it was
very dusty, and with a snow-white handkerchief
he wi (1 his eyes.

“ O , no, sir; there isn’t any reason that I
know of why I should not answer you.”

“ “'hy, certainly not, Katherinei” Miss
Mathews exclaimed, unable to keep quiet. “ I
am sure Miss Green would be delighted to give
you any information in her power.”

“ I expected it, of course, and I assure you,
young ladies, unless I have made some great
blunder, Miss Katherine here will have no rea—
son to regret that I took the trouble to hunt her
up; and it has been no easy task, I assure you,
my dear young friends, for to find a single young

girl in the midst of the many thousands who are -

in this great overgrown city is a wonderfully
diflicult undertaking.”

The girls were getting nervous with excite—
ment; why had the gentleman taken so much
trouble?

“ Your father’s name was William?”

“ Yes, sir.”

“ William Morris Green?"

“ Yes, sir."

“ And he died when you were about two years
old: he was a carpenter and builder, and left
your mother a small house in Market street.”

“ That is correct, Sir.”

“ Your mother was named Katherine, and
on are called after her, but your full name is
’atherine Martha Green; you were named Mar-

tha after your mother’s yougest sister, who marv
ried a gentleman named Geor e Cauld well.”

It was as much as Miss Mat ews could do at
this point to refrain from calling out: “ Oh,
sir, ain’t you Mr. Cauldwelli” but she resolutely
put her tongue between her teeth and so man-
aged to keep quiet.

“ Heaven be praised, my child, there is no
mistake about the matter—you are indeed the
young lady that I took you to be!" the gentle
man exclaimed, clasping his hands together and
casting his eyes upward in a very pious way.

“ The detective whom I employed to find you
assured me that there was no mistake about the
matter, and you were the young lady I sought,
but I was not sure he could be trusted,”the gen~
tleman continued. “ I told him to spare no ex-
pense to find you, and I did not know but that
such an order would be a temptation to him to
find some girl whom he might attempt to per-
suade me was the right one, if he was not able
to really find her.” '

“ A detective l” Miss Mathews murmured un-
der her breath, and her eyes grew large with
wonder; this, for all the world, was like a chap—
ter taken out of the novels which she devoured
so eagerly.

“ But it is all right; I am satisfied you are'
the Katherine Green I seek!” the gentleman ex~
claimed in a joyful tone. “ My dear yonn lady,
prepare yourself for a surprise, which think
will be as pleasaht as it is unexpected. I am

your uncle, George Cauldwell, ju~t returned '

from California, after fifteen ears’ absence!”
and then the stranger shook iss Katherine’s
hand, and in his joy shook hands with Miss
Mathews too, and it was as much as that de
lighted young lady could do to refrain from
singing “ Hooray !‘,’ at the top of her voice, so
rejoiced was she at this strange discovery.

“Well, really, uncle, I had a thought that
might be you when you began to inquire so par-
ticularly.”

“ Yes, yes, no doubt! I thought you would
and that is- one reason why I questioned you so
closely. I wanted to give you time to prepare,”
Mr. Cauldwell explained. ‘ My dear child, I am
as delighted to see you as if you were my own
daughter. Your mother, you know, was always
a great favorite of mine and it was quite a
shock to me, I assure you, when the detective
whom I emplged to trace your folks out in his
report said at your ‘poor mother had been
dead for some years.” And then, Overcome by
his emotions, the gentleman had to have to-
course to his handkerchief again.

A tear or two a peared in the dark eyes of
Katherine, and us Mathews had all she could.
do to keep from “ boo-booing,” as she said after5
ward, right out.

“Well, well, it is the course of nature, r.
Cauldwell remarked, with a solemn shake of h
head. ‘All flesh is grass and gram is hay, we

ic‘

 

I .x

are gone to-morrow and here to-day. I too, my  
s . '

dear Katherine, have had my share of his

and tribulations !” And he heaved a dee sigh.
“ I don‘t know as you know the portion ars in

regard to my family; you were so young when

we went to California, but {our dear aunt, in ~ _'

beloved wife, Martha, and
three children.
taketh. Your aunt and I are now childless, all
alone‘in the world. True we have

in a worldly fashion' we have wealth in a and-
anoe, more than we now what to do with, but,
oh! how glad] would we give it all to have our '
dear children ck again !” Once more the tears"
came into the eyes of the speaker, and the girls
had to resort to their handkerchicfs out of syn»

were blessed wi

pathy ‘ _ .
“ ' here, there, I will not dwell upon themehn-w

But heaven giveth and heaven --

. 4593» ‘s ‘ Div/f ..

 

 

 

12

The actress Detective.

 

 

 

choly subject!” he declared, brightening up with
an effort. “ on are found and that is one

reat comfort. 1 have purchasml a mansion in

ixteenth street and hereafter we Will liVe, in the
city, and as soon as possible, my dear Kather-
ine you must take up your abode with us. We
rely upon you to console us for the loss of our
dear ones. There will not be any more trial
and privation for on, my child; henceforth a
good comfortable ionie with us will be yours;
we depend upon you to be the prOp for our de—
clining years. “'9 do not live in any great
style you know, my dear child, for both your
aunt and myself are plain fieople, but we have
every necessary comfort. T at is my carriage
yonder."

And the gentleman pointed to a neat one-
horse coupe, driven by a coachman in a plain,
dark livery which stood by the curbstonc about
flf'iy feet up the street.

‘ be girls looked in the direction indicated,
and again Miss Mathews’s eyes were distended.

“ Oh, my, Katherine is going to have a car-
riage! won’t the iris in the store open their
eyes when I tell t em about it,” she murmured
under her breath.

“ Your dear aunt is so anxious to see you—to
clasp you in the arms which have not held you
since you were a little child,” Mr. CauldWell
continued.

“ Oh, I shall be so delighted to see her, Uncle
George. It seems almost too good to in true!”
Katherine exclaimed. “ Here I thought 1 was
almost all alone in the world, and to have you
and aunt come—to enjoy my own home again, I
(slhall be so happy that I will not know what to

o.

“ My poor dear wife will be overjoyed; she is
not in the best of health, but under your minis-
tering care I do not doubt that she Will rapidly
improve,” the gentleman declared. “ Her injunc-
tions to me were to hurry you on soon as I
could.”

“ Why don’t you go right along now i" Miss
Mathews cried, eagerly, glad of a chance to
take an active part in this exciting affair.

“ Yes, '68,, the very thin !” Mr. Cauldwell
exclaim . “If I should bring you home with
me your poor dear aunt would weep tears of joy
I know 1”

' " You can go just as well as not l” Miss
Mathews urged. “ I will tell them at the board-
in -house where you have gone.”

e two girls roomed together.

Katherine was an eager to meet her aunt that
it did not take much urging to induce her to
consent to go at once, so she got into the coupe
with the gentleman, and was driven away, Miss
Mathews waving her hahd after the carriage in
a great state of excitement.

CHA TER XIII.
EILDA’ DECISION.

In the parlor of the theatrical boarding-house
eat the young actor, Mortimer, Louise Amherst
and Hilda Serene.

The had just finished dinner, and had re-
pair to the parlor to enjoy u. soon] chat.

Like the majority of theatrical pie they
were fond of talking “shop,” an for a few
minutes they discussed theatrical matters.

“ Logadere” had entered upon what promised
to be a successful run. and the performers confl-
dontly looked forward to a prolonged sta in
New York, a circumstance which gave t em
great pleasure for the actor’s life ' upon the
road,” as traveling from town to town is called,
is not a pleasant one.

Finally the conversation turned to the attempt
which had been made u u the actor’s life.

Ten days had now e speed since the hi ht of
the dress rehearsal and no information ha been
gained in regard to the matter.

r “ These detectives are no good i" Miss Amherst
exclaimed in her decided way.

“ Oh, come, on are jumping to a conclusion
too hastily,” ortimer remarked.

“ You must give them time," Hilda Serene
observed. “ Remember that detectives are only
men and ‘ work by Wit and not by witchcraft,
and wit depends on dilato time.’ "

“ Oh, that is all very we 1, but it seems to me
that within a week or ten days the detectiVes
ought to have discovered somethin about the
magtecil' if they were good for anything," Louise
re ie .

P‘ Well, I don’t know about that,” Mortimer

remarked. “ As’far as I can see, the case seems
to be an extremely difficult one.”

“Yes, that is my opinion,” Hilda coincided.

‘ “Although I am not sure that my ideas about
the matter are worth anything.”

“Oh, dear! what a. modest, retiring creature

you are!” the llVely young actress exclaimed.

'Now I am fullysatistled that I am not one-

half as capable of expressing an opinion about
the matter as on are, and yctI do not hesiv
tats to boldly eclare what my ideas are about
the uflair.” I

“ There is a very old adage. you know, which
up that unwise lo rush in where angels
fear to tread.” Mortimer observed, with a quiz-
sicai glance at Louise.
. Miss Amherst mode a face at him.

“ You arc a horrid man to say that, although

 

 

' ’30” did have  grace to gotten it down of

g .

  
 

 
  

  

 

  
 

little!” she declared. “ The original reads:
‘ fools rush in where angels fear to tread.’ "

“ Oh, well, I did not want to break your heart
entirely, you know,” Mortimer replied, laugh-
mg.
“ That is more than you or any other man
can do!” the young actress retorted.

“ But. jestingr aside, Miss Serene, I think you
are as fully qualified to give an opinion on the
subject as any one I know of,” Mortimer asser -
ed. “ You seem to have a marvelous faculty
for getting at the points in the matter. I Went
to Police Headquarters with the manager right
after the affair happened and there was intro-
duced to the Superintendent of Police and a
cou le of the detectives.

“ he superintendent struck me as being a
remarkably able man. and the way he got at
the points in the case. strongly reminded me of
you, but I cannot say that the detectives made
a faVorable impression upon me.”

“ Men were put upon the case at once?” Hilda
questioned.

‘f Yes, immediately. Gilmore is a personal
friend of the police chief and so he took extra
pains about the matter," the young actor an-
swered. ..

“And no discoveries have been made?” Miss
Serene asked.

“ None at all. I was at Police Headquarters
this morning with the manager. He takes a
deal of interest in the matter, and I went over
with him to see how the detectives were getting
along," Mortimer explained.

“ And they report no progress, eh 3" Hilda
questioned.

“ That was the report,” the young actor an-
swered. “Gilmore was disappointed, and when
he said so to the chief, the superintendent re-
plied, he had not expected that the men would
)0 able to do anything with the case when he
put them on it, for he considered it to be about
as difficult a one as any he had ever encountered
durin the whole of his career.”

“ es, that is the way it looks to me,” Hilda
remarked, thoughtfully. “ Although, of course,
I am not capable of passing an expert Opinion
upon the matter, but it seetns to me that there
are no clews at all to go upon, for the man who
made the attempt upon your life has disappeared.
leaving no more trace behind him than if
he had never existed, and you are not able to
afford any information, for you have no one-
mies, and know of no reason why any one
should attack you.”

“ By Jove!” exclaimed Mortimer in astonish-
ment. “ I believe you were cut out for a detec-
tive, for you have repeated the words of the
su )erintendent of police almost exactly.”

ilda smiled.

“ Well, I do not know,” she said. “ It seems
to me that it is all 'very plain and sim le, and
anybody ought to be able to arrive at be con-
clusions. But I admit that I would like to be a
detective, for I think the life would just suit me,
although lam not so sure that I am suited to
the life.” .

“Oh, yes, you are!” Miss Amherst declared
immediately, and with great emphasis. “I feel
quite certain about the matter, and if I were
you I most certainly would try my hand at it.

hink what a feather it would be in your cap if
you succeeded when the detectives failed.”‘

“ Oh, yes, but it is altogether unlikel that I
would be able to succeed, ’ Hilda ropli with a
doubtful shake of the head. “ To my thinking

it is by accident alone that any clew to the man
can be gained; luck not skill must win the vic-

ry.

“ I think, Miss Serene, that you must be a
natural born detective for you have argued this
matter out exactly the same as did the superin-
tendent of police,” Mortimer remarked. “ He
declared that owing to the absence of clews the
ablest detective would be baffled and that only
throu h some great piece of luck could the
blood ounds get upon the track. Oh, you ought
to be a detective l”

“ I must confess that I think I should like the
life,” Hilda admitted. “ And I presume too
that there are lenty of female detectives.”

“ Of course! ’ Miss Amherst exclaimed. “ I
have read of their wonderful exploits a dozen
times.”

“ The superintendent, in speaking about the
part that you took in the matter, said that he
thought you had the making of a good detect-
ive in you, for show all things that the success—
ful sleuth-hound must possess is dauntless cour-
age, and the plucky way in which you grappled
w th the man plainly showed that you had that
to an eminent degree.”

“The superintendent was pleased to be com-

limentary,” Hilda remarked, with a faint
Blush. “ And I suppose I ought to call upon
him and tender my thanks for his kind words
and at the same time I can tell him that one of
those days. when I am out of an ongagementl
and want something to do, I would like to have
him give me a chance at the detective business.”

The young actress spoke in a jointing tone and
neither one of the others hail any idea that she
was in earnest and meant what she said, but she

did‘, thogfh.
‘ All ghtl” Mortimer exclaimed. “I would
if I my”. I feel wre that you could make

hi",

   
   

\

 

  
   

a success, and when you get ready to go just let
me know and I will take great pleasure in tak-
ing you up and introducing you to the chief.”

“ Yes, yes, you will make a splendid success
in the detective line, 1 am sure!” Miss Amherst
declared.

“ Well, I am not at all sure of that,” Hilda
replied. “ But I think that it is very likely
that I will try it some day. I do not think I
will ever make my fortune upon the stage. I
have advanced to a certain pomt and do not
seem able to impr0ve any; I am not content. Of
course, I make a good, comfortable livingr and
do not have to Work hard. Nine women out of
ten would be perfectly satisfied, I suppose, but
I am not.”

Mortimer gallantly asserted that Miss Hilda
was not doing herSelf justice, but in his heart
he knew that the girl was right.

She could never hope to rise to any eminence
upon the stage. She was a good, reliable ac—
tress, who could be depended upon to get
through her roles in a satisfactory manner, but
it was certain that she would never astonish the
world with any burst of genius.

After a few minutes more spent in conversa-
tion the party se )arated.

Hilda went to her room and dressed herself
for the street.

She had made up her mind to call upon the
superintendent of police and see what he had to
say in regard to her undertaking to play the
part of a detective.

The girl certainly possessed another great
qualification for a detective besides her daunt-
less courage, and that was her ability to keep
her own counsel.

During the conversation she had decided to
call upon the chief of police that very afternoon,
but she did not breathe a word of her intention
to her com anions.

She had earned where the Police Headquar-
ters were situated, and after leaving the board-
ing-house roceeded strai ht to Mulberry street,
where wit out any troub c she found the white—
frouted building where the all-powerful (‘hicf of
the great metropolitan police force reigns.

CHAPTER XIV.
coon ADVICE.

WITH that calm confidence which was so
characteristic of the girl the young actress
marched up the steps of the Police Headquarters
and inquired of an officer, who was standing in
the doorway, if she could see the superintendent
with as much assurance as thou h it was a com—
mon every-day occurrence for er to call upon
the august head of the police force.

The policeman happened to be one of the ob—
liging kind and so took pains to bring her to the
office of the chief instead of leaving her to find
her way there alone.

The superintendent sat at his desk writing,
a resolute. determined-looking man with a
shrewd, penetrating look, and a air of eyes
that seemed to have the power of ooking clear
into one’s soul.

I He recognized the onng actress at a glance.

“Good-afternoon, iss Serene, I am glad to
have the pleasure of meetin you. Pray take a
chair,” and he wavedhls and to one at the
right of the desk. “I! have seen you on the
stage at Niblo’s during‘ the past week and am
pleased to have an opportunity of making your
acquaintance in private.”

“ You are very kind,” Miss Serene remarked
in her matter-of-fact way, taking a seat as she
Spoke. “I have taken- the libert of calling
upon you because I want youra vice upon a.
certain subggct.” .

“ I shall delighted to be of service to you,”
the superintendent replied, intently studying
the face of the girl as he spoke.

During the course of his professional career
he had come in contact with all sorts of women,
but here was one who seemed to be entirely
different from any one whom he had ever en-
countered. ’

Hilda was well aware that she was under in-
spection but it did not worry her in the least.

“Mr. Mortimer informs me that the detec—
tives who have been employed on his case have
not succeeded in gaining any clew to his as-
sailant.”

3‘ That is correct, and it is myo inion that
they will not be able to do anyt ln’g unless
favored by some fortunate accident. be case
is an extremely difficult one, for there is abso-
lutely nothing for the detectives to go upon,”
the superintendent remarked.

“Yes, it seems so to me, although, as 1 am
without experience in such matters, [am not

 

well Qualified to express an opinion,” Hilda ob- v

eerv

“ Such is certainly the case and from the first
I have been doubtful. The difiicult port of the
case lies in the fact that there seems to be no
reason for the attack—no motive at all, and that
is what bothers my men. If Mr. Mortimer had
an enemy who desired his death orif he'wero
so situated that some one would profit by his
taking off, then, a clew could be secured, but, as
it is, the matter is shrouded in the deepest kind
of a mystery. That there was some powerful
motive which urged the man on to the commis-

I .
‘

tion of thoicrime I have not a. doubt, but what i

 

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m... a..-“

 
   

.‘w...n,_. .A ‘

The I ctress Detective.

13‘

 

the motive was puzzles me. If Mr. Mortimer
was able to give me some information in regard
to that, we could go ahead but now, we are
working in the dark. and, as said before, un-
less some lucky accident favors us there is no
chance of our being able to accomplish any-
thing.”

“ Yes, I can understand that,” Hilda observed,
thoughtfully. “I talked the matter over \\ ith
M r. Mortimer this afternoon—we board at the

 

some houSt—aml that unis the conclusion to.
which l cnnieto take a great interest in tho
cnsc and the thought has come to me that I
would like to try and see what I could do in the

detective line.”

A look of- surprise appeared on the face of the
superintendent.

“ I mippose the idea will appear to you to be
foolish in the extreme,” Hilda added, hastily.
“ But I feel so strong an inclination to try, that
I thought I would come to you and see what
you thought about the matter.”

“ Well, Miss Srrene, I will admit that I am a
little surprised thit you should entertain such
an idea, it being entirely unexpected, but I can
see no reason why you should not try that line
of business if your inclinations lead that way,”
the Chief remarked. “ From What I know 0f
you I think you must certainly possess many
qlmlificaiii lllS necessary to a successful detective.

on are wonderfully strong for a woman, and
understand how to use your strength; you are
self-possessed and your stage training will be
very useful if it is necessary for you to assume
a disguise at any time. Then, too, from the
way in which you went towork to ascertain
how it was that the stran er came to take the
place of the regular Stage and, I should argue
that you had natural talent for pursuing an
investigation.”

Q I certainly have a strong inclination for the
life. if that counts for anything.”

“ It most certainly does. A man or woman
generally succeed best in the occupation for
which they have a natural love.”

“What are the forms necessary to be gone
through before I can begin my investigations?”
Hilda asked.

The superintendent smiled and shook his head.

“ My dear Miss Serene, there are no forms
whatever to be gone through. This is a free
Country and if any one thinks that they have a
mission to become a detective. there is nothing
to prevent them from trying their hand at the
business.”

“ Ah, yes, I see."

“But to become a regular detective is quite
another thing,” the superintendent explained.

“ Regular detectives are appointed and re—
ceive a salary, 'usl: the same as a police officer
or any other 0 cial. Then there are irregular
detectives, police spies really, to give them the
name by which they are known in Europe, men
and Women whose names are not on the pay—
rolls of the Police Department, who are on y
paid when they are employed, and then comes
the lowest rade of all, who are technically
termed ‘stoo -pigeons.’ These are usually men
and women who have committed some minor
crime which has brought them in contact with
the police. and they ‘squeal,’ to use the slang
word for betraying their comrades. in order to
get off with a light punishment. This part is
kept secret though, for if it became known that
they had been favm-ed by the police their. ass»
.ciates Would no longer trust them and their use
tulness would be gone.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“These people, frequenters of the haunts of
the criminals, often bring us valuable informa-
tion and they are paid in accordance.”

“The must be useful, working thus secretly
and in t 9 dark.”

“ Yes, oftentimes they bring 11 word of some
crime planned but not committed and being
thus warned in advance we are able locatch
the fellows right in the act,” the superintendent
continued. “ This is rather a rare occurrence,
though. As a rule, they are made useful after
a crime has been committed. If it is a big bank
robberv we send word to the stool~pigeons who
are intimate with the crooks who ursue that

rticular branch of businesHVil-doers. you

,now, are divided into classes, Just the same as
honest man.”

Hilda nodded; being a great reader she was
well aware of this fact.

“ We tell these parties to kee their eyes open
and ascortain what men are holding secret con-
fabs together—whether any of them appear to
be particularly “flush with money, or if any
noted bank cracksmen are missing from their
usual haunts. It is often the custom of the big
crooks after a great haul is made to leave town
until the hue and cry has in a. measure subsided,
so by the aid of the information received from
the BtOOI‘EIEOODB we are able mgecure our men_”

“ And i you employ these spies in the Mor-
timer matter?” .

“Oh, yes, but gained no information what,
ever," the superintendent replied. “ You see, as
I said before, the trouble is that We had abso-

’ lately nothin to go on but the description of the
man who (1 the shot, and as there are rob-
ably ten thousand men in the city, and p nty

l of crooks and toughs among them, who would

 

answer to that description, it was not of much
service to us.”

“ If I undertake to try what I can do in the
detective line I would come in under the head
of police spies.

“ Yes, and if you should succeed in doing
anything with this affair, which has bullied my
best inen, you can rest assured I will find plenty
of employment for you in the future."

“ \Vell, I will try and see what I can do,”
Ilil'ia remarked, rising as she spoke. “I snall
keep the matter quiet though, then if I fail no
one Will be the wiser.”

“ That is a good idea; a good detective keeps
liisown counsel. If you need nssistancea line
to me will bring it at any tune.”

“ Thanks," responded the girl.

The superintendent bowed and she departed.

CHAPTER XV.
AN UNEerCTED EVENT.

FROM the Police Headquarters, Hilda proceed-
ed to Houston street.

Her mind being busy in thought she did not
notice where she was ’going until she came to
the corner, and then, looking around her, she
saw that she had come in the wrong direction.

“ What does it matter?” she murmured. “ l
have the time all to myself until supper and I
might as well wander around the streets as to
go home. Likea knight of old, when he set
out in quest of adventures, he threw the reins
upon the neck of his horse and allowed the
animal to go whither he listetzl, so I will pro-
ceed at random, for it does not signify where I

o, and I might as well spend the time in walk-
ng in the open air as to go back to my stuffy
little bedroom in‘the boarding-house. ’ '

Acting on this idea, Hilda turned and walked
along Houston street until she came to the
Bowery.

She proceeded up this popular thoroughfare
for a few blocks, amusing herself by looking in
the shop Windows, and then crossing the street,
came down on the other side, and when she
reached Second street, the inspiration came to
herto revisit the scene where she had begun
her researches into the Mortimer mystery.

She walked slowly along on the op its side
of the street to the one on which stor the bar-
racks-like tenement—house where the scene-

 

shifter resided, and as she passed the building,

Hilda gazed at it with her keen eyes as though
she fancied she could tear the secret of the dark
mystery from the senseless walls.

Then a sudden idea came to her.

“ Ah, there is a point which neither the super-
intendent nor any of t e detectives seem to
have soon!” she exclaim . “ If they did, the
superintendent did not mention it, and he would
not have been likely toneglect doing so, if it had
occurred to any of them.

“ The man who fired the shot was undoubted-
l y a professional criminal—a crook—for no
novice in crime would have the nerve to attem t
such a. feat, and then, too, an amateur wou d
not have had a gang of confederates in waiting
go help him to escape in case he should be cap-

u .
“Now this man was one used to the stage, or
else he would not have been acceptable to the
master-carpenter. If he had not understood his
business as a scene-shifter or sta e hand—and
no green band would have been at lo to deceive
a man like Sherwood, who is a veteran s e-
carpenter, one of the best in the country— e
would have been discharged immediately. So,
when the superintendent put his stool-pigeons on
the case, he on ht ' to have giVsn them instruc-
tions to look or the crook who had been con-
nected with a theater—the man who had once
been a stage hand. I think this int did not
occur to the superintendent, or a he would
have spoken of it.”

Hilda had been walking along as she mused,
not taking any particular notice of where she
was going and she turned to the right at random
and went down the street. '

After goin a few blocks she caught sight of
the name of t e thoroughfare.

She was on Allen street. .

There was a crowd collected in the middle of
the next block and Hilda hurried forward to see
what was the matter.

A large wagon had broken down; it was
heavily loaded and as the driver attemptpd to
turn, a wheel had come off just as the vehicle
was turned squarely around across the street,
and as there were empty wagons on both sides
of the way, the thoroughfare was completely
blocked. "

A little crowd had quickly gathered; it does
not take much to get a crowd together in a big
city, where there are glenty of people with
nothing todo but tostan and gaze: ilda stood
on the edge of the curb, below the b en-down
wagon and watched the men attempting to raise
the wagon so as to replace the wheel.

As she stood and gazed upon the scene, a coupe
drove up and came to a halt within five feet of
where the young actress stood.

Carelessly, Hilda glanced at the driver of the
coupe, a medium-sized, smooth -faced fellow,
dressed in s. neat, dark livery.

The moment the girl’seyes fell upon the face
of the driver she gave a start of surprise, and in

 

   
    
  
     
    
  
   
    
  
 
 
    
  
   
  
 
  
 
  
   
    
 
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
   
 
  
  
   
   
    
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
    
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
    
    
 
   
  
    
   
   
    
 
   
    
   
   
  
         

spite of the efforts of the driver to look indifl'ci'~
cut, as his eyes met Hilda’s, a scowl gathered
upon his face.

The driver in livery was the stage band who
had called himself Thomas Finn.

Hilda was quick to act: the moment she rec-
ognized the man she made a dash for him.

The flowng garments of a woman are not
well fitted for athletic exercises, but despite her
skirts, she sprung upon the shaft of the coupe,
and almost before the man comprehended what
she was about, had him by the throat.

The bystanders roared aloud in excitement.

In a twinkling, before any one could move a
finger to interfere in the matter, Hilda dragged
the man froni'the box of the coupe to the street.

The fellow snuggled with all his might, but
muscular as he was. could not escape from the
firm grip of the young actress. ‘

“ Let go of me, or 1 will do you a mischief l”
he cried. .

“ Stop your resistance, or it will be the worse
for you,” Hilda replied. . .

The man attempted to strike her in the face;
with a quick movement of the head she dodged
the blow, and then, in an extremely dextrous
manner, gave the fellow a trip with her foot
and laid him on his back with as little troubleas
though he had been a child.

Again the crowd roared—this time with de-

li ht.

gHilda knelt with her knee on the man’s chest,
and she had her muscular right hand twisted
in his collar in such a way as to nearly strangle

him.

Out of the coupe popped a middle-aged man;
he had opened the door just in time to witness
the “ going to grass ” of the driver, and the head
of a young girl appeared in the carriage door-
wa after the man alighted.

Ays the reader has probably suspected, this was
the coupe belonging to Mr. George Cauldwell,
the Californian uncle of Miss Katherine Throck-
morton, the saleslady, and the passage of the
two up-town had been thus strangely inter-

rupted.

“ Hallo, hallo!” cried Mr. Cauldwell, evident
ly in a great state of excitement; “ what on
earth does this mean! Is the woman crazy! "
Help me to secure her, some of you! Where are
the police?” ‘

“ This man is an escaped criminal and I ar-
rest him in the name of tbelaw!” Hilda cried, to
the intense amazement of the bystanders.

“ This woman is a lunatic,” Mr. Cauldwell,
declared. “ She does not know what she is say-
ing!

" Oh, yes, I dol” Hilda exclaimed. “This
man is my prisoner, and I am going to hold on to
him until a policeman arrives to take him into
custody.”

“ This is utterly ridiculous,” the old gentle-
man retorted. “ You have made some absurd
mistake. This man is my coachman; he has
been with me a number of years, and I know
that he is a thoroughly honest fellow, and you,
young woman, will have to answer to the law
for this outrage!”

“ Don’t you worry about that l” Hilda retort-
ed. “ I know my business, and if you only
kn0w yours half as well you will be fortunate.

Apparently taking heart from the interference -»
of his employer, the fellow began to struggle”
and endeavor to get out from un er the plenum
of the firm knee upon his chest, a movement
that the strong-armed Hilda Speedin put a m:
to by pressing her knuckles in his throat in sue
a. manner as to cut of! his supply of wind. ,

“ Hold on, hold on! what are on doing!”
cried Mr. Cauldwell, in alarm. “ bu will kill
the man 1"

He had noticed that the driver was get
black in the face from the choking which H’ I
was administering in so skillful a manner.

“Let him stop stru ling, then, and submit ,
quietly to the arrest!” do answered. “ He is '_ "
my prisoner, and 1 do not intend that he shun

escape!“ - .-
“ hat is the matter? L’ave me in there, will '
ye!” cried a hoarse voice, Whose accents shdwd.:
undoubtedly that the owner was a native of the

Eielimmme' h his h " '
n en, pus ing wa throng tho
rod,-md-faced

crowd, came a burly, red-w
policeman. ,
“ Ah. now we will have this matter speedily i
settled l” Mr. Cauldwell cried, in. a tone which «
betrayed great satisfaction. -. 
“.I am glad you have come, officer!” he can- '
tinned. “ I can see that you are a. man of
galsoemmgnt, and I know you will soon fix this
n u ,
, u ad, an! 1 will—you kin take yer oath on
that l” the policeman cried, flourishin his club '
i: ibe faces of the crowdsoasto orceth'em,‘
c - ' .' i.
“ Mv conichi hash guthbeenis assaulgsd and , x
from s x y extraor inary '
flman, whom I fancy to be crazy from , ‘
why she acts, and I call upon you, officer, to m w.
res herl” J

“ I’ll be either doing that same i ‘ the mid, A
:1 gang’s tail!” the “ intelligent” icsman fi~

a . '
And then..tn the astonishment of the 
actress, the policeman seized huh mugth y. .

h

‘r’

      
   
   
   
    

 

.. eyes, a dozen

- twist which made‘him dro

714

The Actress Detective.

 

shoulder with his left hand, while he swung his
club in a menacing way over her head.

“ Come out o’ that—l’ave go of the man, or
I'll be afther poundin’ a little sinse inter yer
crazy skull!” he declared.

This sudden turn of affairs took Hilda by sur-
prise, for even when the old gentleman made
the accusation, she did not think the policeman
would be so stupid as to believe it until he had
examined into the matter, but ,she was not at
all disposed to tame] submit. ’

“ It is a falsehood! ’ she declared. “ I am no
more crazy than he isi It is all a lie to secure
the escape of this man who is a criminal whom
I have just arrested!”

“ Wow, wow!” cried the officer, in derision,
“is it a policeman that ye are, that ye do be
talkin’ of arresting? Come along wid me now,
an’ don’t be afther makin’ a Judy of yourself!”

And the oflicer attempted to drag her to her
feet, but as she still retained her hold on the
throat of the now senseless man, he was not able
to do so until she let 0 her grip.

There was a pecu iar glint of fire in Hilda’s
clear eyes as she rose to her feet, pulled u by
the rough hand of the Irishman, one of t ose
dull brutes, who, by acme of those strange
chances due to the miserable politicians who
are the curses of the metropolis, had been pro-
moted from carrying the hod to wielding the
locust club of office.

The gm of the eyes had hardened into
green, an any one well acquainted with the

‘ lconld have told that there was a storm a-
mug.

“ I don’t mind being arrested," Hilda re-
marked, “ only there isn’t any need of your
being so rough about the matter. I am per-
fectly willing to go with you, but I demand
that’this man whom I have captured shall go,
“ She is crazy, officer! Don’t pay an atten-
tion to her 1” Uanldwell exclaimed. “ ake her
nwayl I will appear a ainst ‘ her. She has
nearly killed my man, at she cannot pull
the wool over your eyes with any of her crazy.
talk!"

“ No, our, not by a jugfull" the liceman
cried. “ Come along out of that, Wl( yel” and
he ave Hilda a violent pull, while he waved his
clu in the faces of the bystanders so as to open
a [glass-age.

y this time the temper of the crowd had got
decidedly ugl , and frowning faces were to be
soon on all si es.

The bystande-s, almost to a man, sided with
the young ac

“ And are you not going to arrest this man?”
Hilda (ried.

“ Come along win". ye, an’ be afther k’aping

mouth shut!” the policeman cried, angrily.

“ I tell you that ho is a. criminal for whom the
detectives have been in search!”

“ Howld yer whist, or I’ll give ye a crack
over the nose, which will be afther sp‘iling yer

' face for yezl” the amber replied, and as he fin-

ished the sentence, he raised his club as if he
really meant to do as he threatened.

Now Hilda had often read of the brutal ways
of some of the policemen, who disgrace the uni~
form they wear, and she had no notion of being
abused by this red-headed brute, so, as he raised
his club as if to strike, with a sudden whirl she
broke his grasp upon her shoulder, caught his
wrist wit her right hand, ave it a sudden
h s club as though
the article had suddenly come red-hot; this
movement made the Irishman howl with pain,
then, with wonderful quickness, she dealt the
man a blow in the stomach which doubled the
oflicer like a jackknil’e.

And now came the crowd’s opportunity.

Wrought up to a great pitch of excitement by
the girl's attack, they seized upon the unlucky
Irishman.

One man ban ed his helmet down over his
sts pounded him all at once,

' kneeoand feet aided his progress through the

,h

 

crowd, and when he got on the outside of
thothrong he was about as badly a used po-
liceman as the streets of the metropolis had ever

The man was nothing but a coward at heart

{for all of his bravado, one of those utterly unflt
’ men who sometimes manage to smuggle them-

halves into responsible positions.
Up the street he gallopedi

yelling at the
top of his lungs, producing an
. t.

mmense excite-

, At the corner he ran into the arms of his ser-
geant, who, at the head of the reserve squad,
was hastonin to the scene.

Word had brought to the station by some
tightened citizen that a small riot was brewing

., on Allen street, and the sergeant had hastily set

pat with-all the men he could master to quell
In disturbance.

CHAPTER XVI.

 

f- “ A mscovnav.

" On, so at, door, it is murtherod I am
aitlroly l” t e policeman cried, as he recognized

oflcer.
“ Well oulookaoif you had been rou hl
handled,“ lyho officer remarked, with a “reg-til:

 

 

The sergeant had an extremely poor opinion
of the Irishman, who was the cause of more
trouble than all the rest of the men in his com-
mand put together.

“ There’s a divil of a woman dewn the street,
wid the biggest crowd of blagg'nrds that ye
iver layed yer two eyes on!” the Irishman de-
clared.

“ A woman l” exclaimed the sergeant in sur-
prise.

“ Yis, sur!
terror she is l”

“ I will have to attend to her case. Forward !”
commanded the ear cant.

50; went the sq , the Irishman falling in be-

m .

The crowd scattered when they saw the po-
licemen approaching on the double-quick,
swinging their clubs. so when the squad reach-
ed the scene, there was a clear space around
the spot where Hilda stood by the prostrate
man.

The coachman recovered consciousness just
as the police arrived, and rosc to a. sitting pos-
ture.

The sergeant was amazed when he looked
upon Hilda, for he expected to see some Virago,
and the oung actress was also surprised, for
in the o cer she recognized the man who had
directed her how to find the Superintendent of
Police that very afternoon.

Although she was not aware of the fact, the
sergeant knew who she was, for he was a great
theater‘goer and had attended the performances
at Niblo’s; she was soon enlightened in regard
to this, though, for the moment the sergeant
arrived on the scene he addressed her by name.

“What is the trouble, Miss Serene?” he ex-
claimed.

The Irish policeman stared in astonishment at
hearing the sergeant address the young actress
like an old acquaintance.

“ I have arrested this man,” she replied, her
mind considerably relieved by the fact that the
officer knew who she was. “ He is the one who
fired the shot at Mr. Mortimer, but when this
stn id Irishman came along he insisted u )on
ma 'ing me a prisoner, and was going to al ow
this man to depart; I resisted, the crowd took
my part, and between us all the policeman got
rather roughly handled.”

“ You are always putting your foot in it,
Patsey, it seems,” the sergeant remarked, to the
Irishman’s great astonishment.

“ Share, didn‘t the gentleman in the coach say
that she was afthcr murtherin’ his man, an’
axed me to arrest her?” the policeman ex-
claimed.

“ Where is he?” asked the sergeant, glancing
around.

The rest followed his example, but Mr. George
Cauldwell had disappeared.

He had apparently taken advantage of the
confusion to quietly depart.

By this time the driver was on his feet, and
he seemed to be greatly astonished at the disap-
pearance of his employer.

“ How is this, my man?” the sergeant asked.
What has become of your boss?”

“ Blamed if I know”. the fellow growled.
“I s’pose he thought there was going tobea
general fight and took a sneak.”

“ It is very strange that he should not stay
to face the music,” the sergeant remarked.

“ Well, I s’pose he of: frightened,” the driver
replied. “ He is an o d gentleman, and it ain’t
like] that he is used to a. racket of this kind.”

“ on are sure in regard to this man Miss
Serene?” the sergeant asked. Being well ac-
quainted with all the particulars of the Mor-
timer case, he had no need to ask any questions
when Hilda announced that he was the man
who fired the shot.

“ Yes, no doubt about the matter at all i” the
young actress replied, in the most positive man-

Och, be the powers, it‘s a howly

ner.

“ I will send him right to Headquarters, then,”
the officer announced. “ You get into the coach
and I will put an officer on the box to drive.”

Hilda went to the carriage and was confronted
by the anxious face of the young saleslady, who
was both amazed and alarmed at these strange
proceedings.

Miss Serene saw that the girl was terrified,
and so spoke words of encourage nt.

“ Do not be afraid, my dear,” e said, as she
got into the coach, “ no danger will come to

on.
y There was that in the innocent face of the
girl which satisfied the acute Hilda that the
new nothing 'of the driver’s guilt, even if the
elderly gentleman did.

The actre had formed an extremely unfavor~
able impression of the coachman’s There
was something about his personal appearance
that Hida did not llke, and then the promptuess
with which he had come to the driver's assist-
anco, and his endeavors to procure her arrest,
allowing the coachman to go free, did not seem
to her to be just the way an honest man would

His sudden dlsa pearanco, too, when the offi-
cers appeared on t e scene was a ainst him.
The shrewd-witted Hilda ha jumped to a

conclusion in regard to the matter.
man was a crook, and he got out of the

‘

 

way when the policemen came because he was
afraid that some of them would recognize him.

“ Where is my uncle?” Katherine asked, anx-
iously, after Hilda entered the coach and closed
the door.

“ You mean the old gentleman?”

.,.4 Yes.”

“ He is your uncle, then?”

u Yes.”

“ He has gone away, evidently, for he is not
around.”

“ I suppose he got frightened—he is not used
to the city.”

“ Ah, he is a. stranger, then?” asked Hilda.
anxious to find out all she could about the man.

"Yes, he has just returned from California,
where he has resided for many years; I have
not seen him since I was a mere child,” and
then Katherine, encouraged by deftly—put ques-
tions from Hilda, told the story of her meeting
with her long—absent uncle.

And while she was telling the tale the im-
pression came to Hilda that the girl had been
deceived for some purpose and that the man
was not what he refended.

“ I am sorry t at I had to interrupt you in
your journey after fortune,” Hilda observed.
“ But in the driver I recognized a scamp for
whom the doors of the jail are yawning. Pos-
sibly you read in the newspapers of the attempt
which was made about ten days ago to assasin-
ate Mr. Mortimer, one of the actors at Niblo’s
Garden?”

“Oh, yes, I read all about it!” Katherine ex
claimed, with unusual animation.
took a great interest in the matter, for I have
an idea that Mr. Mortimer is my cousin.”

This unexpected announcement caused Hilda
to utter a cry of astonishment.

“ I am not uito sure of it, you know, but}
believe he is,’ Katherine added. “ For my
Aunt Agatha, my mother’s oldest sister, mar-
ried a Mortimer, and her son—her only child—
was named James. I don‘t know much about
in aunt and her family, for they lived out.
l eat, and I never saw my aunt and my Consm
James but once—when I was little—still, I feel
pretty sure that this Mr. Mortimer is my cousin,
for I went to a matinee at the theater with a.
couple of girls from the. store, and Mr. Morti-
mer looks just like Aunt Aggie, as my mother
always taught me to call her."

Deep thoughts were in Hilda’s brain as the
girl prattled on.

Had she been lucky enough to stumble upon a
clew to the dark mystery which surrounded the
attack on Mortimer?

Had she, by arresting the driver of the coupe,
failed in another blow aimed at a member of
the family to which the young actress belonged?

She thought that it was likely, for now that
she was in posseSSion of Katherine’s story, she
was more and more convinced that the man
who called himself George Cauldwell was a
fraud, and that he was no more the uncle of the
saleslady than she was.

Hilda was careful thou b, not to mention her
suspicions to the girl, for s e saw that there was
no doubt in her mind in regard to the matter;
she had perfect faith that the man was what he
re resented himself to be.

at although Hilda was satisfied that she had
spoiled a carefully-planned scheme, yet she was
not able to guess why it had been formed.'

That the girl was being lured away by this
man who had appeared to h'er in the guise of
her uncle, she was convinced, but the motive for
the deed was a mystery. 9 ually as deep as the
Mortimer one, and she ha a suspicion that the
two were intimately connected.

CHAI’TER XVII.
run EXAMINATION.

BY the time that Katherine had finished her
explanation, the coach had arrived at Police
Headquarters.

The sergeant had ridden on the box with the
Officer, whom he had selected to drive, leaving
to his men the task of bringing the prisoner
and, warned by the experience which the Niblo’s
Garden policeman had had with the fellow, a
pair of andcufl‘s had been snapped upon his
wrists, so he had p0 chance to give leg-bail this
time.

The sergeant conducted Miss Serene into the
presence of the superintendent of police, and
great was the amazement of that official as he
listened to the story the sergeant. told.

“ Well, Miss Serene, there is an old sayin
that it is better to.be‘born lucky than rich, an .
most certainly. this little affair would seem to
indicate that you were born under a lucky star.
since on have been able to accomplish in a
single afternoon a task which all the detectives
in the city could not do in ten days,” the super-
intendent exclaimed.

“ You kn0w you said it was a question of
luck," Hilda replied, with a smile.

“ The man is a stranger to you?” the superin-
tendent asked of the sergeant.

“ Yes; I do not know him, although I think I
am acquainted with as man crooks as any man
in the town,” the officer rep ied.

“It is strange that the owner of the coupe

 

should get out of the wa in such a mysterious i ,

manner,” the superinten ent observed.

“ And I'

 

_._.....‘._. . “Mug-a... NH .

-‘Nwa ,. ,

 

The Actress Detective.

15

 

Hilda made a sign,~which the acute chief in-
terpreted to mean that she had something to
say about the matter, but did not want to speak
in presence of the sergeant.

“ Yes, it is odd,” the officer observed.

“You had better go down and receive the
prisoner,” the chief said. “ When he comes,
send him up to me, and at the same time notify
all the detectives to come in and take a look at
the fellow; some one of them may be able to
identify him.” _

The sergeant saluted and retired. -

“I fancy that you have something to say
about this matter,” the chief remarked, after
the (1001‘ closed behind the Officer, “ and I com-
mend your caution in not- Wishing to speak be.
fore any one. In such matters the fewer wit-
nesses the better. This is a vory uncertain
world, and sometimes the peeple whom we be-
lieve to be mOst trustworthy, turn out to be ex-
nctl the contrary.”

“ have always been used to keeping my own
counsel, no it is nothing new to me to can-
tious,” Hilda replied. And then she roceeded
to relate to the chief the story that atherine
Throckmorton had told, and in concluSion re-
lated her suspicions about the matter.

The superintendent was amazed; he had met

pie with acute minds before, but none that
impressed him as stropfly as this girl.

“ Upon my word, iss Serene, you did not
make any mistake when you Imagined that you
could do something in the detective line!” he de-
clared. “ I do not want on to think that I am
flattering you, but I Wil say that this bit of
Work of yours is as clever a thing in the detec-
tive line as has come under my notice for a long

time.

“ You think, then, that my suspicions are
correct?” Hilda asked.

“ Yes, I do not think there is a doubt ,about
it. I feel sure that you have hit upon the truth,
and you havo obtained a clew to the mystery
which has baffled the best detectives in New
York—and when I say that, I think it is almost
the same as so ing the best detectives in the
world, for I don t believe either the French or
English service is as good asours, despite the
reputation which they have."

‘ It was not through any superior skill on my
put, though, that this result was brought
about; it was pure accident.”

The superintendent laughed.

“It does not do to tell tales out of school, you
know, stillI don’t mind saying to you that in
about nine cases out of ten the most successful
detectives owe their triumphs to the chance of
accident; where the skill comes in is the ability
to profit by the accident, and the forethought to
soejust how muchcanbe made out of the affair.”

“ Y I see.”

-“ In t is case you have displayed a. skill which
would be a. credit to the oldest detective 'on the
force.”

“ An, now you are flattering me, I am sure!”
Hilda exclaimed.

“ Oh, no, it is the truth—nothing more. I
am satisfied that the conclusions to which you
have come in this matter are correct, and that
you were able to reach them, With so little to go
upon, satisfies me that you have the instincts of
a true detective, and, with a little practice, will
take a high rank.”

“ Well, I hope so, for I must confess that I
like the life, and I do not care for the stage.”

. “ You left the young lady in the coach?”

“ Yes, I told her to wait until I came for her,
and then I would take her home. I thought
that it was possible that you might want to hear
her story from her own lips.”

“ Oh, no, I am satisfied that you have got all
the points,” the superintendent replied. “ In
case we cannot get an hing out of the man
the game will be to use i is girl aa’a decoy. 1i
ygur supposition is. right in regard to the girl

ing lured away, it is robable that the game
will be tried again, an I will have her closely
shadowed—without her knowledge, of course,
for it would not be safe to allow her to know
what was going on.” . 4

“ Yes, it would not be wise, for she would be
apt by some blunder to spoxl the scheme.”

“ Butwhat puzzles me about the matter is the
motivel” the su rintendent exclaimed, his
brows oompmsodpien thought, “ That there is
301119 deep motive at the bottom of the affair is
certain. .but I cannot for the life of we imagine
what it is' if we have patience though, by din.
gently '01 0"‘08 up the claw which we now pos-
3933, we may diacover it in time.”

At this 9011-“ the OOHVenation was interrupted
by the entrance of the sergeant with mp pris.
oner followed by a number of detectives.

“ hat is your name!" asked the superintend-
ent in his abru t, decisive my When the m
was unified fore him.

to Jenn ck,” the man answered, mm“),

“ That is not the name you Elva When . ou
warps: Nlblo’s Garden.” tho mwmtendent re-
mar .

“ I never was at Niblo’s Garden in my life ”
the driver declared. ’

“ ow is that Mi: Serene!" the chief asked_

“He is not telling the truth,” the actress an.
swcred. “ He was a sta hand at Niblo’s Gus
den and he called himssl Thomas Finn.”

 

“ What have you got to say to that?” the su-
perintendent queried, bending his keen eyes
shar ly on the man.

“ 'Fhe lady has made a mistake!” he declared,
endeavoring to assume an innocent air. “ I don’t
doubt that she thinks she knows me, but it isn't
so. I am not the man she takes me to be. I am
a coachman and was never behind the scenes of
a theater in my life.”

“ There is no mistake about the matter—he is
the man!” Hilda declared, firmly.

“ Take a look and see if any of you recognize
him,” the chief said to the detectives.

The man-hunters came up one by one and
carefully surveyed the prisoner; he bore the
scrutin without flinching.

The etectives shook their heads; no one was
able to identify the fellow.

When the inspection was finished the superin-
tendent beckoned to one of the detectives.

The officer received a whispered communica-
tion from the chief and then departed.

This circumstance seemed to trouble the pris-
oner, to judge from the look which appeared in
his eyes.

“ How long have you been in this country!”
asked the chief, abruptly. ‘

“1—1 have always lived herel” the man de-
clared, after a moment’s hesitation.

“ Here in New York?” questioned the superin-
tendent, carelessly.

The man scented a. trap immediately.

“ No, I haven’t lived in New York right
along.” he answered, and there came a look in
his eyes like the one which comes into the orbs
of a hunted animal when the pursuers are close
upon the track.

“ Ah, haven’t lived in New York right along,
eh i” said the superintendent in a bland and
careless manner, as though be attached no par-
ticular importance to the statement.

“ No, sir,” and despite the man‘s efforts to ap-

ar calm and unconcerned there was an anxious
ook u n his face.

“ W ere have you lived?”

“ Well, I have been traveling around a good
deal ” the man replied, slowly.

“ raveling, eh?"

“Yes, sir.”

“ In what part of the country i”

“ Out West.”

“ Did you do pretty well out there?” And the
superintendent put the question as if he really
took an interest in the matter.

“Well, no, I managed to live and that was
about all,” the fellow replied, evidently uzzled,
by the interest that the other manifes

“ You made quite a number of friends, I sup.

e?” .
po‘s‘ Can’t say that I did.”
“ Acquaintances then; you surely became
painted with the people or whom you work-

“ I didn’t have steady jobs; I jest picked up a
day’s work here and there.”

“Ah, yes, I see; whereabouts in the West-
at what town did you stop the longest?”

“ Chicago,” the man replied, after hesitating
a moment. \

“ Who did you work for in Chicago!”

“ Say! I don’t think that you have any right
to put me through any such examination as
this i" the driver exclaimed, indignantly. “ I
am not accused of having committed any crime
in Chicago l”

“Oh, no; no such accusation is brought
against you,” the superintendent replied in the
pleasantest possible manner. “ I was only ask-
ing you to give an account of yourself for your
own benefit. There is a pretty serious charge
brought against you here in New York, and if
you were able  say, I worked for such and
such men in Chicago, and all of them will testi-
fy that I was an honest and upright fellow it
would help you materially. Still, you are not
obliged to give an account of yourself if you do
not want to, but I tell you, my man, you are
making a_ mistake in not doing so, for it imme-
diately gives rise to the natural suspicion that
you have Somethin to conceal."

Eiffel], that ain’ so!” the driver exclaimed,
an i y.

“ An honest man ought not to wish to keep
back anything connected with his career; this
is good advice I am giving you, but if you do
not choose to take it, it is your own affair.”

“ I think I am the best iudge,” the other re-
plied with a. defiant shake o the head.

“ You say your name is John Mack?”

it Yes.”

“ Your businessi”

“ Coachman." r

“ By whom are you em 10 now?"

“ evy Mr. George Can] we .”

“ as that the middle-aged man who was in
the coach when you were arrested?”

“ Yes, sir.”

" Very strange that he disappeared before
the officers came up,” the superintendent com-
mented. “ Have you any idea why he did not
wait to see the end of tho aflair 7'"

“ I s’pose he got frightened when he saw that
there was going to be a row: he was a kind of
nezvfius olmchap and gladly scizred.”l ”

ump it certs y ex rcme stran
thschiof remarked. y . '89

 

“Where does this Mr. Cauldwcll live?”

“ I don't know,” the man answered to the sur-
prise of all the hearers.

“ How is that?” exclaimed the superintendent.
Do you mean to say that you don‘t know where
your boss lives?”

“ Yes, sir, that is what I said. He lives up-
town somewhere. but I don’t know the street.
He told me where it was—Thirty something, but
this trouble has knocked the thing clear out of
my head.”

“ This is a most extraordinary statement!” ,
the superintendent exclaimed. “ How long ‘
have you been driving for this Mr. Gould
well?”

" I only commenced about an hour ago. I
just got in this morning from Chicago and I
met Mr. Cauldwell on the train. He sat in the
same seat with me and so we got to talking. and
when he found that I was coming to New York
to look for work he said he would give me a
'ob.”

J “ Quite a fortunate meeting for you," the
superintendent remarked, dryly. .

‘ Yes, sir, and after we got into the city, he
took me to the stable where he kept his carriage
and I got this livery coat and bat there.”

“ Had it all ready for you, ehi” the chief
exclaimed. _

“ I had been got for his other man who didn’t
suit,” the driver explained. “ I put on the togs
and drove the carriage until I got into this
trouble.”

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
SEEKING A CLEW.

THE chief could not help smiling when the
man finished his story, and there was also a
broad grin of incredulity upon the faces of all
the officers.

“ Oh, come now, you don’t expect us to believe
this yarn, do you?” exclaimed the superin-
tendent.

d “ Well, it is the truth!” the fellow replied,
y.

‘ t is almost as lame and disjointed a tale as
1 ever listened to l” the oficial declared. “ And
it is evident to me that neither you nor your
Mr. Cauldwell had any idea that you would fall
into the hands of justice or you would have
hatched a much better yarn than this.”

“ Mehbe it don’t look like jest right but it is
the truth for all that," the man protested,
stout] .

“ \V hereabouts was the stable to which this
Mr. Cauldwell took you?”

“ You are too much for me, capt'n,” the man
responded, scratching his head, slowly. .

“ Do you mean to say that you do not know?”
demanded the superintendent, fixing his keen
eyes in a stern gaze on the face of the other.

“ That is jest what I mean to say,” the man
responded, stoutly.

“ Well, upon my word, yOur story gets Worse
and worse, more and more incredible!” the chief
declared.

“It was on the west side of town somewhere,
but I never noticed exactly where. I went
right along with the gentleman, and after I got
on the box he told me to drive down town until
I came to Grand street, then turn cast, but what
street I came down is more than I know, for I
never took any notice.”

“ Well, it does not matter much.” the su rin- .
tendent remarked. “ When Mr. Ca dwell
comes after his carriage we can ascertain all the
particulars from him.’

The chief made the observation in a careless
way as though he did not attach any particular
importance to the matter, but he had his eyes
fixed in a watchful aze upon the face of the
accused; he noticed he shade which came over
it, and the look he construed to mean that the
fellow felt certain that no Mr. Cauldwell would
put in an appearance to champion his cause.

“ You stick to this story, then, that you have
told i” the superintendent continued.

“ It is the truth, and of course I stick to it,’.'

_the other replied. sulkily.

At this point the detective who had been dise
patched by the superintendent entered the room,
and with him was the master stage-carpenter
of Niblo’s Garden Theater, William Sherwood.

“ This is one of the gentlemen you sent for,”.
saidf the officer, presenting Sherwood to
chie . '

“ What is your name. sir i” asked the super-in. ,
tendent, while the risoner’s face grew dark,
although he did his to appear unconcerned.

“ VYvilliam Sheit'iwoord.”

our occu on

“ Master staged-carpenter of Niblo’s Garden.”

“ Look around. Mr. Sherwood. and see if there ,
isfliiinybody here that you know,” said the police '

o cial.

Sherwood had been brought forward in such
a way that his back was to the driver, but when
he turned, in compliance with the chief's ro~
quest, he looked the man directly in the £300.

The master-carpenter started, although he I.
in a measure prepared for some such thing.

“ Yes. I know that man there, Thomas ,
he is the stage-hand who fired the shot at Hr,
Mortimer,” he said, pointing to the prisoner.

“ ’Tain’t so!” the fellow growled.
saw you before!”

“lunch.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

16

The estress_,.1?si69tive-

 

 

 

“ Oh, yes, you did!” Sherwood exclaimed,
positively. “ 1 have not made any mistake. You
are the man, sure enough! I know - you, al-
though you have made some changes in your
personal appearance.”

“ Bring in the other,” commanded the super-
intendeut.

The old back-doorteiider of Niblo’s Garden
then was, introdm-ed, and be promptly identified
the prisoner as being the lllilll, Thomas Finn,
who had come in place of the regular stage-
hand.

The old man was Very positive about the mat-
ter, for when the fellow had come to the back
door, bearing the letter to the niaster-caranter,
the guardian of the portal would not allow him
to pass, but detained him there until Sherwood
came.

“ It seems tome that they are making out a
pretty strong case against you,” the superin-
tendent observed.

“ It ain’t the first time that a mistake has
been made of this kind,” the driVer ar ued.
“ l s’pose I look a good deal like this man, ‘inn,
but I ain‘t him, by a jugful!”

“ My man, bravado will not do you any good
this time. If you are wise you will own up and
make a clean breast of it. Reveal who it was
that put you up to this job, for it is my idea
that you are not the principal in this matter,
and you will stand a chance to get off with a
light punishment.” '

“ Oh, I see your gamei” the driver exclaimed.
“You are trying to scare me, but the thing
will not work. 1 am not the man who did the
job, and when I come to be tried I will be able
to prova it, too, for all that you think you have
got me in such a tight place.”

“ Take him down below,” the superintendent
commanded, apparently not inclined to waste
any more words on the fellow,

The driver was removed, the rest also de-
pzrtfd, leaving Miss Serene alone with the
c is .

“ Well, what do you think of the affair?" the
official asked.

“ The man is an old hand, and one evidently
accustomed to police courts,” the girl an~
swered.

“ Why do you think so?"

“ Because he did not betray any confusion,
and was constantly on his guard against being
entrapped in any way.”

“ You are a shrewd observer,” the superin—
tendent remarked, With an approving nod.
“ And, to my thinking, the conclusion you have
reached is a correct one. The fellow is an old
hand, and is perfectly familiar with courts. It
is my belief that he has strong backing, too, or
thinks he has, or else he would not put on so
hold a front.”

“The scheme was stupidly planned,” Hilda
observed. “ But of course the parties who ar-
ranged it did not provide for the emergency of
an arrest. That was something that they did
not calculate upon.”

“ But itis the unexpected thatalways happens,
you know,” the superintendent remarked.

“ Yes, but in this case it a parean looked to
the men who planned the a air as i there was
not one chance out of a thousand of anything
happening to interfere with the working of the
scheme, and if it had not been for the lucky ac-
cident which brought me in the path of the car-
riage there is no doubt that the plan would
have worked to perfection.”

‘f You have done nobly, Miss Serene, and you
can consider yourself enrolled amongthe police
a iesfrom this day forth,” the superintendent

eclared. I I

“ I am glad to have been so fortunate, but I

am not at all satisfied, although I have succeed-

. ed in capturing my man,” the young actress re-

, the su

marked. "The mystery of the attack on Mr.
Mortimer is as great as ever, and, in fact, this
attempt to abduct the girl, who is his cousin——
for I am satisfied that that was just the game
which my interference prevented—complicates

' ’ matters.

' “ The abduction of the girl is fully as great a
mystery as the attack upon Mr. Mortimer, and

31 am satisfied that the two are connected in

some way—that one motive is at the bottom of
.both attempts.”
“ Yes, I think you are right there, and it is
mg notion that if we push this Mack, or Finn
‘w ic‘hevcr he is, we may be able to get a clew,’

rintendent observsd.

Hi] 3. shook her head.

"‘ You do not agree with me, oh?” and the
superintendent lau ed “ Well. I see that you
are going to be onest, and are not going to

' flatter me by pretending to believe that I am

 right when you have doubts in regard to the
;.’ gutter.”

l like mysel

“It is resumptnous, I know, for a novice
f .
to doubt the wisdom of your ideas,”

Hilda observed. “ But you have treated me so

7: well tint you hays given me courage to

o

\s‘

.-;-.w‘
_ a “That is ri ht!” the superintendent ex-

 

j claimed. “ The is exactly the way I wanted it
jto be. I wish you to Speak freely. Old stagers
 myself are apt to get in ruts, and fresh
.y ‘ ng wits

M

like yours often hit 11 n valuable
I0 go ahead 1” . ' p0

 

‘5 Although none of yourdetectiVes recognized
this man, yet 1 do not think there is a doubt
that he is an old criminal.”

“ That is correct, I believe.”

“ Probably from the lVest, or possibly from
across the water, although he does not seem to
be an Englishman."

“ Correct again.”

“ He is in a bad position, yet he does not ap-
pear to be troubled. about it; it is iiotbecause the
man is ignorant, and does not comprehend the
danger to which lie. is exposed.”

“ Oh, no; lie is an old hand!” the superinten-
dent exclaimed.

" It follows, then, it seems tome, that he must.
have powerful friends, and be is confident that
they will be able to get him out of this hole into
which he has tumbled.”

“ It certainly looks like it.”

“ Is it not probable, then, that this man is one
of a powerful and well—organized band of men
who are leaguod together to prey upon society,
and who are bound by oath to assist one another
if any of them are so unfortunate as to be caught
in the meshes of the law? I know that this
sounds like a page of a romance,” Hilda added,
with a smile, “but truth is stranger than lic-
tion, you know.” "

“ Oh, yes, no doubt about that, and all these
tales of secret leagues have ‘ruth for a founda-
tion,” the su erintendent remarked. “ I should
not be surprised if you are right in your sur-
misc, and in regard to the existence of these
criminal leagues, there is no question that they
have existed, and may exist now. It is the
nature of these fellows to band themselves toe
gether so as to carry out schemes which, singly,
they could never hope to accomplish.”

“ When you come to look closely into this
matter although there is no doubt about the
guilt of the man, and little chance for him to es-
cape conviction, yet if he is defended by a smart
lawyer—and if one of the best in the city does
not appear for him I shall be surprised—the
chances seem to me to be great that he will es-
cape With a light punishment, for, as no par-
ticular harm was done to Mr. Mortimer, and it
cannot be shown that the fellow had any reason
to wish to kill him, the chances are great that
in an average jury there may be some dull-heads
stu lid enough to believe that it really was an
accident, and that the man did not intend to do
harm.’

“ Your reasoning is good,” the superintendent
declared, with an approving nod.

“ From these circumstances I have come to
the conclusion that you will not get any infor-
mation from this prisoner, and as to Mr. George
Cauldwell, you will not be troubled by any Visit
from him. He got out of the way when the
officers came up, for he is not a stranger like the
driver, and knew he would be recognized.
Some one will come to claim the carriage—some
innocent party, apparently, who rented it to
this Cauldwel , but, to my thinking, the owner
of the carriage will be apt to be one of the mom--
bers of the band, and it will pay to keep an eye
upon him.

“ Correct again my dear Miss Serene,” ex-
claimed the chief, in admiration. “Ah, you did
not make any mistake when you took the notion
into your head that you had talent which would
shine in the detetective line.”

“ From the prisoner nothing can be dined,
but we may be able to discover who bac 3 him,
yet kee concealed. A watch must be placed
upon l r. Mortimer, another one upon this girl,
for it is safe to conclude that since the first
two blows have failed, others will be at-
tempted.”

The su rinteudent nodded in token that he
agreed w th this declaration.

“ A watch must be also put upon the man
who comes to claim the carriage, and throu h
some one of these shadows we ought to be ab 9
to get a clew to the parties in the background.”

‘ Yes, the chancc seems good. And now in
regard to yourself: if there is a gang at the
back of this man it is undoubtedly a powerful
one and the odds are great that when they dis—
cover—as the probably have by this time
through this auldwell—that to you they are
indebted for the second failure of their plans, it
is likely that they will attempt to be revenged
upon you, so you must keep a good lookout.”

“ I have thought of that,” the girl replied.
“ To kill the sleuth-hound who follows faithfully
on the track is the best way in the world'to stop
the ursuit.”

“ es, and that is probably the way these
scoundrels will reason, so you must keepa bright
lookout, and be prepared to resist an attack.”

“ I am prepared, ’ Ililda'rcplled, Quietly. and
then, from a secret pocket, just below the waist
of her dress, within easy reach of her right
hand, she produced a revolver. and the rapidity
with which she drew the weapon was wonder-

ul.

“ Well. well, the man who gets ‘ the drop’ on
you, as they sav in the West, will have to he
remarkably quick l” the superintendent ex-
claimed.

“ All my early lifewas spent in the West. and
I have been familiar with won as from child-
hood,” Hilda ex lattice]. “ on will see that
this-is no toy, sac as women usually have, but

 

 

a serviceable weapon, carrying a bullet big
enough to stop a man; then it is a double-acting
revolver, so that a shot can be fired without the
hammer having to be raised.”

“ Upon my Word, Miss Serene, from the way
you huh-lie the weapon 1 can Well believe that
you are perfectly familiar with the Use of it.”

“ Oh, yes, I am, and I am ii dead Shot too.”

“ And you would not hesitate to use the wea-
pon if you were attacked f”

“ Certainly]: it i” the young nctressexclaimed,
decidedly. “ Although I am a woman, yet in
that respect: I am just as bloodthirsty as a man,
and would as quickly defend myself if attacked,
and too would show as little mercy to my foes as
a red Indian on the war-path.

“ But this is not my only means of defense,”
she continued. And as she spoke she returned
the revolver to its place and from another secret
pocket, upon the left side of her dress, drew
forth an eight-inch bowie-knife, which she flour-
ished with her left hand, like one perfectly fami-
liar with the use of the weapon.

“ This is even a surer weapon than the revol-
ver,” Hilda remarked, “ for it never misses fire,
and at close quarters is certain to do deadly ex-
ecution.”

“ \Vell, after this display I don’t think I shall
lay awake nights speculating whether you will
be able to take care of yourself or not,” the
su rintendent remarked, with a. laugh.

‘ You need not worry about me ’ Hilda re-
plied, replacing her knife in its hiding-place.
“ I am as capable of taking care of myself as
any detective on the force. ”

“ That I can readily believe, and I am glad
that you are so well prepared, for I shall be sur-
prised if the gang do not attempt to do you
some damn e.”

“ Well, i they attempt it—and I think that
it is likely the will—maybe I can get a clew to
the men,” ilda nded, With a coolness
which surprised the o cial.

He surve ed her fora moment with knitted
brows and t en burst into a laugh.

“ By all odds you are the coo est hand that I
have encountered for a long, long time i” be ex-
claimed. “ And, unless I am greatly mistaken,
you will make your mark in the detective line.”

“ I certainly will try,” Hilda replied. “And
now I will send this Miss Throckmorton to her
home, and I shall not say anything to lead her
to suppose that there is anything wrong about
this pretended uncle of hers, for through the
girl we may be able to get on the track of the
secret band.”

“ That is wise.”

“ I live in Great Jones atreet, at Mrs. Clif-
ton’s theatrical boarding-house, if you wish to
send any message to me.”

“Yes, I know the house, and as it is impor-
tant that no one should suspect that there is
any understanding between us, you must not
come to Headquarters again. If anything im-
portant occurs, you can send a message, and I
will meet you. Let me see!” and the superin-
tendent tap his brow with his finger for a
moment in t ought. “We must arrange some
place where we can meet without danger of
any one knowing anything about the matter,
for to render you useful as a police spy it is im-
pera,tive that no one should suspect that you are
one.

“ How would the theater do?” Hilda asked.
“You and the manager are on good terms, I be-
lieve?”

“ Oh, yes, we are old friends.”

“I can enter by the back-door, the stage on.
trance, and you can cOme through the front of
the house, by arranging With the manager so to
do. Of course, yop Will have to, in a measure,
take him into your confidence. By arranging
the matter in this way we can meet and no one
will be the wiser.”

"The idea is a capital one!” the superinten-
dent declared. “I will see the manager and
make all the necessary arrangements.”

Then Hilda departed.

In the street she spoke to Katherine and said
she would show her the Way to her home, as the
police were going to take the coupe, but after
the saleslady found out where she “as she de-
clared that it was not necessary, as she could go
home alone without any troub e.

Hilda walked with her as far as the Bower ,
though, and during the brief interyal ma 9
such an impression upon Katherine that the
orphan girl was ready to declare she was the
dearest and sweetest won an that she had eyer
seen, and the two parted the best of friends,
Hilda having promised to call upon Katherine
as women she could find time.

It was the game of the female spy to secure
the confidence of the girl so as to be warned by
her if' the sup sed uncle again made his up-

rance, as H lda felt sure would be the case._

“ Though the first attempt failed, they Will
reason that a second may be more successful,”
the young actrem remarked.

CHAPTER XIX.
DANDY BEN.

As the superintendent of police expected, it
was not long before a claimant for the coupe ap-
peared, and, as it happened, the man was one
well-known to the superintendent.

 

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I'll-by proving propertY-

1

l

He was a hackman called Benjamin Keyser, l
but better known to his associates and the police ,
as Dandy lien. ' ;
He was want is usually termed a “ night-l
ha wk,” that is, he did far more trade by night
than by day. ,
About midnight, and the small hours of the 1
morning, be haunted the neighborhood ot the:
ptipnlar tip-town saloons, on the lookout for fast l
lnmi about town, who wanted to be driwn home .
at'cera night’s revelry, and when he had the,
tool. to get hold of it until considerably the l

l

uni-59 for liquor, one who had money in his
pmket, and valuable jew'elry (in his person, it ‘
\HIS but seldom that the puSsenger reached his

domicile with as much money and jewelry as he 5
had started with.
This habitof Dandy lien of “ taking toll ” from ]
his drunken passengers had brought him in con- f
tact with the police, and although he had 111- 5
ways been lucky enough to squeeze. out without l
getting “ sent up.” yet it had givenliim a “ black 
eye " with the detectives, and be had been warn- :
ed that if he did not change his game he would 
be. caught So “ dead to right»: ” some day that. he
would have to take a trip up the river to Sing
Sing‘s famous prison. ,

“ Halloal what do you want?” the superin—
tendent asked as Dandy Ben was ushered into
the office by one of the detectives.

The police chief put the question as though he
was surprised by the appearance of the hack-
inan, but the moment he saw him be suspected
that he came in reference to the coupe.

“I come about my carriage down in the
street,” the man said, ducking his head with a
clumsy attempt at a bow.

“ Your carriage?”

“Yes, that ’ere coupe is my rig."

“ Haven’t you made some mistake?”

“ Nary time!” the man declared, emphatical~
Iy. “Why, I would know that old roan mare
of mine anywhere!”

“ The horse and carriage belongs to a Mr.
George Ca uldwell,” the su rintendent asserted.

“ N o, sir-eel they are mine. That is the name
of the cove I hired ’em to.”

“ Oh, you hired the rig to this Mr. Cauld-
well!”

“ Yes, sir, that is the how of it. I was a-
standing on Union Square—that is where I hang
out during the day, you know—when this ’ere
Mr. Cauld well come along With a cove whom he
said he had engaged to drive for him, and he
was anxious to See what he could do as adriver.
His own horse was lame, he said, and he would
like to hire my rig for a couple of hours.”

“ Ah, yes, I see; and you were willing, of
course?”

“ Cert! for he at up a tenner like a gentle-
man, and ten-dollhr bills ain’t so plenty that I
am throwing chances away for to ick ’em up;
and so as to make the thing look ul rightJ lent
the dufler my coat and hat. These ’ere are his’n
that I have got on.”

“ Wasn’t it rather risky lending your rig and
your clothes to a perfect stranger?" the superin-
tendent queried. “ Your coat and hat were
worth more than ten dollars.”

“ Oh, Well, I wasn’t aieardl” the hackman de-
clared. “ I am too old a rounder to be picked
up for a sucker. I knew that the man was on
the square—I could see it in his looks, ’sides, he
give me his card with his house on it, allstJ-night
as a string 1” '

“ Have you t that card With you?" the po-
lico chief ask , carelessly.

“ Yes, in course,” and the man put his hand
in his vest pocket in the most confident was.

Then the expression upon his face and only,
changed. .

“ o, blame it all, I hain’t got it!” he cried.
“I forgot that I went home and changed my
clothes. It is in my other vest.”

“Ah, you! You left it hanging upon the
piano, I suppose?” the chief remarked bla'ndly.

" Oh, come now, on needn't think that I am
giving you any go i” the fellow declared, as-
suming an injured expressmn. ‘ I didn’t leave
it hanging up on no meO, ’008 I ain’t got no
alch thing in my roost, but I have got the card,
all the name!”

*“ Well, now, I am really sorry. for I take an
interest in this Mr. Cauldwell, and I wanted to
discover where I could find him.”

“ l’ll fetch the card to you arter I go home,
though. mind. I don’t 'know that it is all
Straigmv". the hnckman explained. “But I
reckoned It was. though. The old dufl’er look-
ed to be all right. Ind 00 I went for his ten
dollars. But if there's any plant, I am not in
it, and don’t know anything ‘bout it!”

“ IIOW dld  know  your rig was

ere?”
“ One of the boys send it, and hunted me up
for to tell me.’
“Ah, yes, Isoel” .
“ I s’pbse I kin have it all righun
“ Do you know a man named John Lucky”
asked the police chief, abruptly.
H H , ‘
“ Th. as Finn?”
“ I kgtdjw a Billy Finn, who works in center
Market.”
,“ That isn‘t the man.

 

yell, you can have the

’ claimed, with an air of deep disgust.

t

.n l«‘ - , .
. v k . '

The Actress Detective.

“ I reckon I will not have to go far to do
that. Scine of the detectives must know the
business.”

“ I will see about it.”

The superintendent sent a messenger, and he
soon returned with the information that a con-
ple oi the officers had ideiitiiied the rig as being
the property of Dandy Ben.

“ lio w about the teller w’ot has got my coat
and but!" the man asked.

“ You are alleOUS to know where he is, eh?”

“IV’ot do I keer ’bout biin?’ Dandy Ben ex-
“ He kin
go to blazes for all of me, but I would like to git
my coat and hat.”

“ Take off the things, and I will send them to

I him.”

The hackman complied.

In a few minutes the messenger returned with
the livery coat and hat.

The backinan put them on.

“ Now don’t forget when you come across
Mr. Cauldwell’s card to send it to me,” the
superintendent said, “ for I would like to have
a few” minutes’ conversation with that gentle
man.

“Of course I will send it to you i” the hack-
man declared. “ But, mind now, I don’t say
that it is all square, ’cos all I know of the man
is what I have told you, but if he ain’t all
straight, then he is the biggest kind of a confl-
deuce man for be fooled me, and I reckon I am
no slouch l’

W'ith this declaration the man departed

“Send the inspector to me?” the superintend-
gntqcommanded, and then he fell towriting,

 y.

When the inspector entered—a broad-shoul-
dered, muscular man with a face that plainly
showed that the owner both brains
and determination—the superintendent handed

him the memorandum which he had just drawn,

u .

p“ Have these parties, whose names are here
inscribed, shadowed continually; not that they
are suspected of meditating any evil-doing, but
as a measure of recaution to keep them from
being harmed. if my suspicions are correct all
three of them. Mortimer, the actor, at Niblo‘s
Garden, Miss Serene, actress, at the same house,
and Katherine Throckmorton, saleslady at Rid-
ley’s, are in danger of being assailed by a des-
perate gang. Put your best men on the easel"

The inspector replied that it should have his
immediate attention and departed.

“ Now I must have patience until the next
move is made,” the superintendent mused.

CHAPTER XX.
IN run COURT.

AN hour or two after his, arrest Finn was
turned over by the detectives from Headquar-
ters to the regular police authorities, by them
duly placed in the ombs and his case brought
before the presiding magistrate.

This was the first notice that the indefatiga-
ble reporters got of the affair, f r the superin-
tendent of police had been carefu that none of
them should know anything about the examina-
tion at Headquarters. ' .

The chief’s idea was to keep the part that
Hilda had played a profound secret.

He was well aware that the entlemen of the
“ press ” would have been delig‘lited to have got
hold of so choice a news item, and if they had,
they most assuredly would have written up the
part that the oung actress had pla ed until
they had made or out a heroine recon only to
Joan of Arc.

This is in consequence of the modern editor’s
injunction to the modern reporter, “ Get news,
sensational news if you can, and if you cannot,
get what news you can, write it up and make it
sensational."

Newspaper readers love 3 icy articles, and if
the news of the day is not sp cy it must be writ.
ten up to appear so.

The superintendent understood this, and as he
wanted to keep Hilda in the background he
took care that the newspaper men should get
the idea that Finn had been captured by one of
the ward detectives. _‘ '

To allow the world at large to know that
Hilda Serene was really a heroine would be to
interfere with her usefulness as a police spy.

The next morning Finn was brought up for ex-
amination. and, to the Surprise of every one ex-
cept the superintendent of police and the female
police pr, Counselor Have of the firm of Have
and Humpit, the most renowned criminal law‘
yers in New York, appeared for the prisoner.

The examination was a brief one.

The prisoner protested that a mistake had
been made and that he was not the man; there
were too many witnesses, however,whos wore in
the most positive manner that he was the party
who fired the shot to allow this statement to have
any Weight with the judge and he was bound
over for trial. .

Then the question of bail came up; the dis-
trict attorney’s men protested strongly against
the risoner being admitted to bail, claiming
that 0 had tried to commit a cold-blooded mur-
der, and although, thanks to the interference of
Miss Serene no Erticular damage had been
done, yet, toall‘in nts and purposes, he was just

 

 

ittle matter like this you, display the'nhility

'17

as guilty as though he had killed the man at
whom he had fired.

Then the ponderous and able Counselor Have
“ got his work in ” in the scientific manner pecu-
liar to him.

It was the duty of the court, he argued,to
consider what had been done, not what might
could, or would have happened. He was Will-
ing to admit that a shot had been fired, and that
the shot came from a revolver in the bands of
his client—it was a standing joke among the
Counselor’s brother lawyers that he was :11“ ays
ready to “admit” a fact when the evidence in
regard to it was so strong that no one Could
have any pos<ible doubt in regard to the matter
——but that the shot had been fired with the iii-
tent to harm Mr. Mortimer, the idea was pre-
posterous. It was an accident, as he was fully ,
prepared to show at the proper time, and in ..
such a convincing manner that no one could '
have any doubt in regard to the case.

“ There was no motive for the crime—none
had been shown, or even alleged: his client was
a stranger to Mortimer and it was absolutely
ridiculous to suppose that a man would attempt
to kill another in cold blood without knowing

  
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
    
  
  
   
 
 
 
 
    
   
   
  
  
  
   
    
  
    
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
    
  
 
     
    
   
  
  
    
  
    
  
  
   
  
   
    
   
   
   
   
   
 
  
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
  
  

anything about him, and he submitted that, 
under the circumstances, to refuse to admit the

prisoner to a reasonable bail was an injustice of g
which he could not “ believea judge who knows '

the law so well as our Honor,” and he made 5.
one of the elaborate bows for which he was r»
famous to the court—“ could possibly be guilty.”

It was an able speech, and there was hardly a
man in the court who did not think the lawyer

 

would carry his point. _,.‘-

The. representative of the district attorney’s '5,
office felt that the lawyer’s arguments were 
extremely strong ones, and the counselor that 
spoke in answer made but a lame speech in re- ,3:

Y.
The judge reflected over the matter a moment

and then said he thought that under the circum- . 5:4
stances the risoner was entitled to be bailed - 
and he Won] put the figure at five thousand . 
dollars. . a, g

According to the rule this would require the 

man who gave bail to justify for double the
amount, or ten thousand dollars.

Counselor Have made a melo-dramatic mo-
tion of des ir.

“ As we] might you have sentenced the man
to jail for life as required such a bail as that!”
he declared.

The judge was firm though, he would not re-
duce the figure, and the prisoner was returned to
the custod of the warden of the Tombs. _

At the c 056 of the trial as Counselor Have
turned to depart, a note was put in his hand.

“ MY DEAR HAVE:—

“ Can you give me about twenty minutes of your
valuable time? I am in a carriage on Leonard street
opposite your office.”

And the note had the bold signature of the ,
superintendent of police. -

The lawyer smiled.

He and the superintendent were old friends,
although, as a rule, in his professional life be
was always fighting the superintendent and his
men tooth and nai . ,

Seldom did the counselor appear in court ex-
cerpt as the defender of accused men, and many a
c minal he had succeeded in rescuing from the
clutches of the law.

The superintendent and his police arrested
and did their best to convict the men they brought
before the bar of justice, and the lawyer exerted
all his skill to get the accused out of trouble. ;.

But this was all a matter of business and in A,

rivate, the best of feeling existed between the
we.

The lawyer placed the note in his capacions
pocketboo —he was too careful to throw away
any paper which bore upon it such a weighty
signature, then be repaired to Laonard street, the ~
avenue which bounded the Tombs, the City , .
Prison, on the south. I I

A plain close carriage was there, driven by "
an ordinary-looking coachman, not in ii , : ,« i
and there wasn’t anything about either vm '
or driver to attract attention.

The superintendent sat on the rear seat, lean-
ing back well out of sight, and when the lawyer »
came up he opened the door for him. «

The moment the counselor was in the carriage
and the d00r closed, the driver, who had evident- , .
ii had his orders, started his horsesand away, i
t ey went. ‘

Straight to Broadway the carriage proceeded
turned into that great thoroughfare a
becaine one of the endless procession of vehicles
hastening uptown. _ .

As soon as the lawyer Was fairly in his seat
and the carriage started the superintendent

3 he. . __ \
p2 I wanted to have a quiet little talk with - 4,}. .
Have, and as there are reasons why I canno  ..-.
to your cam, nor have you come to mine .I hit  ,3
upon the idea of holdin a confab with youvln n ,, '.
cal-tinge. Itisperfecty rivate here and we '~ .
can 3 ” freely without ger of being over-2f ‘

“Oh, yes, no doubt. about that." the lawa  '
remarked. . You have planned this alfalr with ‘
your usual; skill. my dear fellow. and oven inn 

     
 

 

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any . 5w

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#1. "‘~
r W 1

« :_‘«§,.§“’L;‘};-,: _.

. .2. but“

. "a

«'1

, to relate the

 
   

18

The Actress Detective.

 

 

which has made you a bright and shining light  cheap lawyer who would be glad to take the

for all men’s eyes to gaze upon.”

It came perfectly natural to the counselor to
use fl0wery and rather extravagant language,
and this fact deceived the auditors who listened
to him in the courtroom, for oftentimes they
wondered how it was possible for him topre-
pare his speeches when, apparently, he was
called upon to go into a case with hardly time
to familiarize himself with the facts of the mat
ter.

But Counselor Have was one of those rare
geniuses gifted with the art of oratory, and it
was no more trouble for him to get up and
make an elaborate speech than it was to eat his
dinner.

As far as speaking went he was always pre-
pared, and could not possibly be taken at a dis-
advantage.

 

CHAPTER XXI.

AN EXCHANGE OF CONFIDENCE.

“ THE matter is not a particularly important
one,” the superintendent announce . “ And I
have gone into it more to satisfy my curiosity
than for any benefit that I may be able to
derive from it, and, in fact, it is my idea that
you ”will make more out of the affair than I
will.

“ Ah, yes. of course,” and the lawyer smiled,
blandly. “ In this uncertain, fleeting world of
ours, we generous mortals are always fixing
things so that our neighbor may profit more
than ourselves.”

The superintendent laughed.

“ You are incredulous, eh?”

“ Well, I do not doubt that you think you are
correct in our statement; but if it proves to be
so, I shall e very much surprised.”

“ You will see; it is about the man Finn that
I wish to speak.”

u Yes, yes.”

“ You are his counsel, and I must congratu-
late you on the way you worked for him to—
day.’

" You were in the court?”

“ l was, and the way you handled the case
was my admiration.”

“ Taffy,” res nded the lawyer, softly, clos-
ing one eye andmwinking with the other.

“ Oh, no, it is honest! the superintendent de-
clared. “ You succeeded in having the man ad-
mitted to bail, and, under the circumstances, I
consider it a decided Victory.”

“ Perha it was, but as the matter stood the
judge cou d not very well decide otherwise, for
between us, in strict confidence, on know the
case is a weak one; still, althoug technically I
won a victory, yet it is likely to beabarren one,
for a man f the class of this fellow stands about
as much c ance of escaping from the Tombs as
he does of gettln anybody to put up the sum of
five thousand dol ars for his bail.”

“ Oh, no, you are wrong there; he will get the
bail all right,” the superintendent replied in a
confident tone.

“ Do you think sot" the lawyer exclaimed,

‘ rather surprised by this positive statement.

“ Yes, I do not think there is a doubt of it; so

i you see your victory will be fruitful in results

after all.”
“ Well, it may be possible that some one will
be fool enough to 0 five thousand dollars on

, this fellow, but I s all not believe it until I see

the ducats put up!" Counselor Have declared.

“ Now I am going to put a delicate question
to you Have,” the superintendent said, abrupt-
l . “I don’t know as you will care to answer
i , but if you feel that you can I am sure that
in the em you will profit more by the afi'air
than I will.”

“ Go ahead! I will do the best I can for you.”

“ In the first place let me assure on that I
will not take any unfair advantage 0 anything

\- that you may say; the information I shall re-

gard as strictly confidential, and I will not
make any use of it without your consent.”
“ That is certainly fair enough, and as I said

before, go ahead l”

’ “ How is it that you came to be retained by
this man Finn as his lawyer—are you at liberty
rticularsf” -

The counse or reflected over the matter a few
minutes before he replied, and then he said:

“ Well, under ordinary circumstances, the re-
‘lations between counselor and client should be

considered strictly private, but in this matter I

don‘t mind straining a point to oblige you, par-

tltmlarly as I am not able to see that it will
damage the man in the least.”

“ nder the circumstances then I do not see
any reason why on should note k.”

“ How I came nt) the case is s mple in the ex-

,  trams. This morning an aged female called up-

on me,'said she was the aunt of this Thomas
Finn, rel how he had been sent to the Tombs
the cha against him, and begged that I
would on erta e the defense.

, I “ In that delicate manner, characteristic of a

- 'I” " gentleman about my size when dealing with the

male sex, even when, as in this case, they are
old ugly, and otherwise disagreeable, I inform-
odtbowoman that I thought she had modes
mistake in comin to me~that my fees were

1 _high and she won] do much better to took some

\

case and could afford todo it on reasonable
terms.

“ But the female was obdurafe; she said, not
in express terms, but to the effect, that she

‘knew good lawyers came high, but she must

 

have ’em, and then with a business alacrity,
which is rare among women, I am sorry to say,
she pulled out fifty dollars and planted them
down upon the table.

“ Would that do for a beginning?’ she asked.
“ She was ‘ only a poor woman,’but she was not
going to see her sister’s son in difiicnlty without

= straining every nerve to get him out.”

“Very commendable on her part, I must
say!” the superintendent declared, an odd look
in his eyes and a peculiar smile playing around
his mouth.

“Oho, you think there is some shenanigan
about the matter, eh?” '

“Never mind what I think until you get
through with your stor ,” the other replied.

“ All right. Well, expressed myself just as
ou did just now. I told her that the fifty dol-
ars would do for a retaining fee, and I would

take the case.

“ She called down all sorts of blessings on my
head, after the usual style of these elderly
females of low degree, and said she could get to-
gether fifty dollars more, and would that be
enough to see her nephew through? As I hap—
pened to be well )posted in regard tothe case
and knew it won d not be a difficult one, I
told her I thought it would be enough, unless
the matter turned out to be a much more com-
plex one than I imagined.

“ Of course a hundred was not what Iought
to get, but I judged that that was the limit of
the woman's pile, and, you know, I am a
reasonable man and not a hog, so I was willing
to take the hundred.

“Then too, there was another point, which
as a re essional man you will understand, to
rev to on one of ‘ the secrets of my prison
house,’ I new the case was of a sensational
character, one calculated to attract general
attention, and for the sake of the advertising
it gives me I can often afford to take su'-.h
cases even when I know that there is mighty
little money in them.”

“Of course, I can understand that,” the
superintendent remarked. “ The free adver-
tising that you get in the newspapers is just as
good to you as so much cash, for it increases
your reputation and helps to attract clients
who are able to pay you good, fat fees.”

" Exact] ; that is the whole matter in a nut-
sbell. We , that is how I came to take the
case.”

“I see; and now, Have, honestly, what do
you think of the matter? This is in strict confi-
dence, mind, and I pledge you my word I will
not take any advantage of any information that
you may give me!” the superintendent de-
clared. .

“I say, old fellow, what the deuce are you
driving at?” the lawyer exclaimed, puzzled by
the interest manifested by the other. “ What
do you care about the matter an ay? Why
do you bother your head about t is common,
every-day sort of rascal?”

“ A mere whim, possibly,” replied the police
chief, smiling.

"Oh, no, I know better than that!” Coun-
selor Have declared. “ You are not the kind of
man to take such whims into your head. There
is something in the background, and although I
think I can see as far intoamillstone as the
next man, yet, I will be hanged if I can guess
the drift of this matter l”

“ Go ahead, and after you get through I will

ex lain."
‘All ri ht. Well, honestly, I don’t think the
man will convicted, although there is not the

shadow of a doubt that he did fire the shot, and
that reminds me of a funny circumstance which
goes to show how stupid some men are when
they get into a hole.”

he superintendent nodded.

“ When I called upon the fellow in the Tombs,
after taking the case, to talk over the matter
with him, the ogre vious ass tried to persuade
me that his best efense was the old, worn-out
alibi game. He was not the man who fired the
shot—not Thomas Finn, the stage-hand, at all.
but merely another fellow who looked like him.”

“ It is odd that nine out of eVery ten of these
common scoundrels when they get in trouble,
rely n u an alibi to pull them through. But
how d d you succeed in convincing him that the
scheme wouldn’t work 1”

“ Well, as it happens. I am an intimate friend
of the manager of Nihlo’s Garden Theater; I
was one of the invited guests on the night of the
dress-rehearsal, sat in front of the house, saw
the whole thing from beginning to end, and
promptly told this ass that his alibi business
was perfectly ridiculous, for I, myself, could
swear that he was the man, and when twenty or
thirty witesses could be roduced to swear that
he was the fellow who red the shot. the mar-
shaliug forth of a hundred who didn’t see him
perform the deed, would not be of any avail.”

“ That was a knock-down argument!” the
:gpegntendent observed. “ What did he say

on

 

“ Well, he was struck all in a heap. and
seemed to be a little touched in the upper story;
he talked vaguely about there being a conspiracy
to ruin him, and a lot of other stuff, and I had
hard work to get any sense out of him. The
aunt said he was a heavy drinker, and she was
sure his head was affected at times, and, put-
ting this and that together, I came to the con-

clusion that a big spree was at the bottom of

this pistol—firing business.”

“”Ah, that is the way you solve the mystery.

1?

“ Well, I don’t see any other reasonable ex-
planation,” the lawyer replied. “ The man is a
stranger to Mortimer, and there is no earthly
reason why he should want to kill him. As it
happens, I am thoroughly posted in regard to
the affair, for the manager of the theater told
me all the particulars that I did not know.

“ Now men, you know, seldom commit mur-
der without a motive; true you might say that
this man had been hired by some foe of the
actor, who was hungry for revenge. but did not
dare to undertake the job himself, but Mortimer
upsets that theory by declaring that there isn’t
a soul on earth, that he knows of, who bears
him ill—will enough to attempt his life.”

“ Yes, I see now how you intend tooonduct the
defense,” the superintendent remarked, thou ht-
fully. “ Your theory, in the absenceof amo 6,
will be accident, or that the fellow was recov-
ering from a big spree and did not know what
he was doing.”

“ Yes, those are the points. Of course, I
ought not to give this away, and I would not
to any man but yourself!” the lawyer declared.

The police chief laughed.

“ Have, you are about as smart as they make
them i” he declared.

“ Well, I flatter myself that I was not born
yesterday,” the lawyer remarked, oomph.
cently.

The superintendent laid back in the carriage,
and indulged in a hearty laugh.

“ Wherefore this merriment?” the otherasked,
puzzled.

“ It is a rich joke i”

“ Maybe it is, but I must confess that I don’t
see it.”

“ You have got fifty dollars out of this Finn
affair, and you expect to get fifty more?”

“ Yes, and little enough it is, too, in all con-
science,” the lawyer grumbled.

“ You are right, for you might as well have
had a hundred or two in the beginning as the
fifty, which, by the way, I am willing to bet
you: good round sum is all that you will ever

“ Eh? What makes you think so?” Counselor
Have queried, decidedly annoyed.

“ Because, my dear fellow, you have been

layed for a flat, and I must admit that the job
has beenperformed in an extremely scientific
manner, or else it never would have succeeded
with an old hand like yourself, and, really, I
am not sorry that this trick has been played
11 n you, for your skill and eloquence have
of)th been successful in releasing some rascals
whom I would much prefer to have safely caged
in Sing Sing.” .

The lawyer shook his head.

“Assertion, my dear superintendent, is not
proof,” he declared. “ Demonstrate to me that
this thing is as you declare!”

“ First let me assume the role of a prophet,”
the police chief replied. “ The fifty dollars,
which you have already collared, is all that you
will get out of this case, and, as I haVe said, you
could have had two hundred if you had made
the demand, and refused to take the case for
less; this worthy aynt, who is so anxious about
her sister’s son, would have found the money,
if you had insisted upon having it: and you
need not worry your head in regard to what
line of defense you will adopt, for the case will
never come to trial; you have already won all
the victo y that the man craves, by getting him
admitted to ball. A bondsman will come for-
ward, who will qualify for ten thousand dollars.
the man will be released, and that is the end of
the affair.”

“ Oh, come, now!” the lawyer exclaimed.
“ You are putting it a little too strongly. You
don’t mean to say that this common scoundrel
will forfeit five thousand dollars rather than
stand trial, for I assume, of course, that you
will take care that the security is good for the
money and will not permit any straw bondsmen
to be rung in

“ Yes, ut the same old game will be worked
in this case that has been tried a dozen times be»
fore in our New York courts,” the superintend-
ent replied. “ The bondsman will be good when
he signs the bond—will have property represent-
ing the amount called for, but after the fellow
is released, and gets safe out of harm’s way,
what is to prevent the bondsman from disposing
of his property, so that the city will not be able
to collect anvthin from him when he is called
upon to produce t e man or pay the bail?" '

“ Yes. yes. that game has been worked suc-

.cessfully a number of times, and no stop will be

put to it until we have a law making the amount
of the bend a lien on the property, the mine as
a mortgage.” ~ \ ,

“ That will come in time, I suppose, but It

.——- .

 

<m-

 

 

 

g .__(.,,_.__ ,Wm-~-.. -

 

' able

- tor the Dutchman.

The Actress Detective.

19

 

:

does not exist now, and by means of this 100p-
hole this scoundrel will escape.” .

“ Yes, but hold on!” the lawyer cried. _ “How
comes it that a common, vulgar rascal like this
man can be able to work the trick in such a su-
perior manner?” ' . '

“ Because he has powerful friends; he is but a
tool, the principals are in the background; but,
my dear fellow, you are fdone,’ all tliesame.”

“ Upon my word, I believe you are right! and
if things turn out according to your prediction,
I will know that you are correct; still, under
the circumstances, it is no wonder that I was
fooled. A smarter man than II pretend to be
would surely have been caught in such a care-
fully planned trap; but I must rise to remark
that this beats all the games that I have ever
heard of.” .

“Yes, the players are skillful ones, and they
do not mean to lose a point if they can help
it; I trust though that in the long run Ican suc-
ceed in showing these men in the back round a
trick or two that will be apt to astonis. them,”
And there was a world of grim determination in
the manner of the superintendent of police as
hes oke. . i

“ Vell, if you are right—and I suppose _it is
dollars to cents that you are, I have been nicely
fooled,” the lawyer remarked. “ But I 583’, the
next time a case of this kind comes up give me
a pointer, and you can bet your life that I Will
make the men in the background come down
handsome] .”

” All right, I will. Keep this matter quiet, of
course.” .

“ Oh, cert'ainlyl”

The carriage had gone up Broadway, and
around Union Square, and then down the street
again, and when the conversation came to this
point had just passed Canal street.

The superintendent rapped on the window,
and the driver, understanding the signal, drove
to the lawyer’s oflice, Where the counselor
alighted, then the vehicle conveyed the police
chief to Headquarters.

Everything turned out exactly as the super-
intendent of police had predicted.

An apparently guileless Dutchman, a man
who had made a small fortune in the grocery
busiiieSs, and who now owned a tenement-house
in Avenue A, came forward and offered himself
as bondsman for the prisoner.

Spurred on by the superintendent of police,
the district attorney’s men would not accept
the bail until a careful examination was made,
but as the man was worth the money in real
estate, clear of all mortgages, they could not
well object and he was taken.

The bond was executed and the prisoner m-
leased.

Before the flnal proceedings were taken,
Counselor Have endeavored b a series of skill-
fully put questions to find out rom the man how
it was that the Dutchman came to go bail for
him.

The prisoner replied, apparently in the frank-
cst manner, that be guessed his aunt fixed it, for
she had plenty of money, although she was not
willing to admit it, but he refused to give any
information in regard to his aunt where she
lived, or could be found, so the lawyer was
baffled. _

As soon as the Dutchman appeared in the case
he was “ shadowed" by the orders of the super-
intendent of police, but nothing derogatory to
his character could be found.

He was a. stingy old hunks, a regular old
miser, a. man who bore the reputation of being
willing to‘do almost anything to make a. dollar,
but not likely to be tem ted to break the law
even through greed, an when a carefully-dis-

uised police spy made his acquaintance in a.

usiness way, and took occasion, in a careless
manner, to wonder why he had gone bail for
Finn, he had replied that he w well paid for
so (icing by Finn‘s aunt, and wu secured so he
could not lose anything if the bail Was for-
feited. .

And the dctectivcs, after scouring New York
and its vicmity for the aunt without success,
were ready to declnrc that like Dickens’s Mrs.
Harris, it was their belief that there wasn’t “ no
sich woman.”

The superintendent of police was annoyed; so
far the game had gone against him in the most
decided manne .

“ But it i“ 340118 lane which has no turning!”
he declared.

CHAPTER XXII.

 m.

THREE weeks went by “mom a bin cc.
currin of interest to the we, of 0315:2316?

The ay came when Thomas mun was to ap
pear before the Bar at the can": of special 868.
lions to answer to the “cannon. bro ht
against him, but the man was amt when i.
case was called. .
unselor Have rose, said he Md not been

find his client, and had not heard a, word
from him since he had been rem on ML

Whereupon his bond was declared to be to“

Th: proper officers immediately made search

‘

 

Acting under orders from the Central Office,
the Dutchman had been persistently shadoived,
and on the night before the day of the trial at
ten o’clock, after filling himself full of beer, the
Dutchman had retired to the little room he oc-
cupied in the tenement-house, and the shadow
rcluxed his vigilance, thinking that the game
was safe until morning, but when the morning
came and the old man did not make his appear—
ance as usual, the spy became alarmed; he in-
vestigated the matter and discovered that the
Dutchman was not in the house. He had suc-
ceeded in evading the vigilance of the watcher.

This discovery was at once reported to Head-
quarters and a thorough investigation ordered.

The first move that the detectives made was
to examine the fpro rty records, and, as the
superintendent ,0 p0 ice expected, it was found
that a deed had been placed on record that very
morning, transferring the tenement-house.

The affair was immediately looked into and
an investigation revealed that the transfer had
been made through the agency of a well known
down-town real estate man, whose character
was beyond question, and this gentleman, when
called upon, freely related all that he knew
about the matter. He had never met the Dutch-
man, or even seen the property.

“About a month ago a “ all street broker
put the property into my hands," he stated,
“saying that he had been asked by the owner
to find a purchaser, but as it was out of his line
—:ilthough he had interested himself in the af-
fair, on account of. the man being an old cus-
tomer-be Wished we would take hold of the
matter and he would divide the commission
with us; such being the custom in these cases,
we accepted the offer, particularly as we had a
customer who wanted just such a piece of prop-
erty, and we knew we could close thetrade a
once if matters were as represented. '

“ The deal went through all right, and that is
all we know about the matter.”

The detective procured the name of the
brokers who negotiated the sale, and called upon
him.

This gentleman was one of the “small fry ”
broker, not a member of the Stock Exchange,
and his business was nota large one, but his
reputation was good, although he was a stranger,
and had not been engaged in business long in
New York.

When the detective asked for information
concerning the real estate deal the man was
frankness itself.

His story was the same in the main asthe first
party. .

He gave some information in re ard to the
Dutchman though, which gave a c ow to what
became of him.

On the day before his disappearance he had
seen and conversed with the man in his room in
the Avenue A house, going there by appoint-
ment made by letter. Carried to him there
drafts on Bremen for eleven thousand dollars.
procured according to his orders, and from some
words the Dutchman let slip during the conver-
sation, he got the idea that he intended to sail
for German very soon.

The superintendent, having got this clew, fol-
lowed it up.

The Bremen steamer sailed on the morning of
the day of trial. Owing to the tide it got away
at an early hour, so that the ma 'ority of the
passengers came on board during t e preceding
night, and although the name of the Dutchman
di not appear on the passenger list, yet from
the bookin clerk an opinion was obtained that
one Peter I nyder, for whom a woman bought a
ticket on the preceding day, leaving it in char 9
of the steward to be called for, was the Dutc -
man concerning whom information was sought.

There was a little jollification on board the
steamer on that particular night, and the clerk
had been the guest of the steward when Peter
Synder came on board about eleven o’clock and
called for his ticket, so he had a good view of
the man.

The superintendent saw at once how the
game ha been worked, and the “ shadow”
fooled. i

The tenement-house was one of a long block of
similar houses.

After the gay had shadowed the Dutchman to
his lair. an thou ht he was secure for the
night, the wily fe ow ascended to the roof,

from one house to the other—the roofs

ing all on the same level, it was an easy mat-

ter to do this—and descended through one of the

end houses to the street, - thus avoiding the

watch of the spy, and then had gone to the
steamer.

It Was some satisfaction to the chief todis—
cover all this, although the knowledge could not
be turned to any account.

Of course if the man had committed a crime,
it would hhve been an easy matter to have
secured his arrest b means of the ocean cable
the moment he lan ed at Bremen, butasour
laws are it is no crime for a man to sell his

roperty and take ship for Europe, even if he
has one bail for a criminal.

“ 5Vherefore, then had the watch been
placed upon the man?” I fancy I hear a reader
ask, “ and if the superintendent discovered that
the man had disposed of his property, and in.

,.
:I"
-.

 

tended to leave the country, what could he have
done?”

Legally he could not have done anything, but
as the creature of the law often rises superior to
the power which makes it, the chief would have
arrested the man, had him carried to Head unr-
ters, and there would have endeavored to orce
him to tell who it was that had got him togo in-
to the bail bUSiness, acting on the old, old motto
of the end justifying the means.

But the parties in the background had ap-
parently calculated that some such game might
be tried, and so they had cunningly arranged to
smuggle the Dutchman out of the country.

The superintendent shook his head like a
bait/ed bull when the reports were brought to
him, and he comprehended that he was power—
less to do anything.

The affair had come to an end. The clever
piece of work which Hilda Serene had performed
in capturing the stage-band had really been bar-
ren of results, and the police knew no more of
the mystery than they did when the matter was
first brought to their notice.

It was late in the afternoon before all the re»
ports were in and then the superintendent sent
a message to ilda requesting her to come tothe
theater early hat evening, so he could have a
chance to ta k to her before the performance
began.

An arrangement had been made with the
manager to use his private box, access to which
could be had both from the stage and the front
of the house. ’

In this dilemma, baffled as he was at every
turn, the veteran police officer, grown gray in
the service, sought counsel from the shrewd,
fresh young wits of the girl.

CHAPTER XXIII.
mum’s COUNSEL.

AT twenty minutes of seven the superintend~
ent of lice entered the private box; five min-
utes a ter Hilda made her appearance. _

She was all dressed for the performance, and
had put a dark cloak over her stage costume, so
that if any one in the auditorium should happen
to catch sight of her no attention would be ex—
cited, but as the two sat away in the rear of the
box, it was almost impossible for any one to see
them.

The superintendent immediately proceeded to
describe the state of the case.

 

Hilda listened attentiver until he came to an 2

end.

“ If you had known the Dutchman intended
to leave the country, you would have arrested
him, with the idea of forcing a confession as to
who hired him to go bail for Finn,” she said,

uessing the police chief’s intention as accurate.
y as though she had been all her life in the de—
tective business. .

“ Yes, that was my game; illegal, of course,
but we have to stretch a point once in a while
to serve the cause of justice.”

“ Certainly, I can understand that; the ras-

cals employ any and all means to defeat justice, ,

and it would be a shame if on could not take a
leaf out of their book once in a while.”

“The parties who are engineering the affair
are working with wonderful skill,” the chief
observed. “ I think I may say, without exag-

eration, that in all my professional experience
Ihave never known a case which has been han-
dled better, and the skill with which they have
carried out their plans, and yet remained in the
background, is really marvelous: and I can
feel that, old and experienced veteran as I am
in the rogue-catchin business, it would be a
feather in my cap i I succeeded in trapping
these scoundrels.’

“ Yes, they are foemen worthy of your steel.”

“ I have followed this matter up as closely as
possible in hopes to get a clew to the parties
who are pulling the wires,” the superintendent
remarked. “ In such cases as these it is an
easy matter for the rascals to cover their tracks
in the first instance, like employing this Dutch-
man to go bill for Finn. Of course he was
secured, or else he would not have done it.
Now, if any one could find out who Secured him
a. point would be gained; it is possible that the
rascals are working the matter so cleverly that
even then we would not get hold of the princi-

ls; there ma even be two agents between the

utchman an the ringleaders, but the ferret-
ing out of each agent brings the chase closer
and closer.”

“ Yes, that is the truth, but have you followed
up all the clsws you have?”

“ (lei-ta n y, and come to a dead stop; the

close.”
“ How about this broker and the purchaser of

the Dutchman’s property?” asked Hilda, abrupt» .

l .
y“ What of them?” questioned the superintend-
ent, somewhat surprised by the question.

“Have you had the two shadowed so as to ~

discover whether they may not be agents or;
principals?”

" Upon my word! you are of an extreme]
suspicious nature,” the police chief (ile
“I is the old story, though; the convertusuzg

‘umdsthomnvsrmr, he possessesa ml w

'0

i 1
flight of the Dutchman brings everything to a‘

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

, recei t of a regular income from there.

20

The Actress Detective.

r

 

 

age and experience has diminished in the older
part '

be suspicious of everybody and everything!”
the young actress demanded in her abrupt and
forcible way. “ “'hen on the scent of crime
should any one—no matter how high their posi—
tion nor how spotless their reputation—1m ex-
empt from suspicion, if they swnied to be in the
remotest way connecth with the matter!”

“Egadi I believe, you are right, and I must
admit that when we ran up against these two
parties we stopped just as if we had come to a
brick wall which blocked our progress.”

“ In such a case is it not wise to go over the
wall, or if it be too high to be surmounted to go
around it? There may be valuable discoveries
behi d the barrier, to carry out the sinnlc.”

" es, you are correct; one should not have
stopped; yet, really, when I come to reflect up-

on the matter now, there does not seem to be 1

anvreasrin for going on——no advantage to be
gained, as far as I can see," the chief of police
observed, refiectively.
these two parties.”

“ \Vouldlyiou mind telling me what you know =1

of them?” ilda asked in the peculiar magnetic
wa which made her so attractive sometimes,
am
that in the semi-darkness of the box, it seemed

to the superintendent as though he was looking ,

into the orbs of some animal of the cat tribe,
which possessed the power of seeing in the dark~
ness.

“ Oh, no, I shall be glad to give you all the
information in my pOWer,” the police chief an-
awered.

“ The broker is named Leander Brakesgevarl; 1
a l

he is doing business in a small way in

street; an Englishman, only been in the country i

for about a year; a younger son of a good
family on the other side of the water, and is in
A very
Bopu ar young man among the New York

loads, and from them he gets the most of his
business.” ..

“ Doesn’t it strike you that this Mr. Leander
Brakespear is what in al ebra would be termed
an unknown uantity?” ilda asked, shrewdly.

“ Well, I on’t know,” the chief replied,
thoughtfully. “ What is there suspicious about
the oung maul”

“ Vhat do you really know of him! Is be
what he represents himself to be?”

“ Thatyidea occurred to me in the beginning,
and I had his case looked into, for I thought
that he might be an adventurer from abroad.
but my men reported that, as far as they could
find out, there wasn’t any doubt he was what he
re resented himself to be."

‘ That may be, and yet it does not prove that
he is above suspicion; there are many English-
. men who are the heirs of noble titles, yet as
poor as church mice, who are as big rascals as
can be found out of jail.

“ Did you inquire concerning his character

r and habitST’ Hilda added.

“ Well, no, not particularly, for the report
rather :hrew me of! the track; but the shadow
said he was about the same as the rest of the set
with whom he assorted—drank a littlee-gamblcd
a little, but not to excess in either line.’

" You see how little I know of the detective

-. business, for such a report would have at once

’ broker,” the superintendent remarked.

excited my suspicions,” Hilda remarked. “ I
would have said, “ here is a man who will bear
watchin l”

“ No. think you are wrong in regard to {in
‘ . )7
men did make a thorough examination as to his
career since coming to New York, not that they
suspected there was anything wrong about him,
for they did not, but as a mere matter of pre-
caution, and they found everything perfectly
straight.”

“ And the other party—the purchaser of the
house.”

“ It is a woman—a wealth widow, one of the
upper ten, Mrs. Alberta. Dar 'n ton, a lady who
moves in the best society, 19 t independently
wealthy by the death of her husband.”

“ And, therefore, of course, above suspicion,”

.v lgilda remarked, with a slight curl of her upper

8“ You intended to be sarcastic, but really

i v _ that is the truth. No obs in their senses would

suspect a Woman like Mrs. Burlington, who is
familiarly known as the Gilded Widow, to have
,anything to do with a common rascal like this
man Finn.”
“ Superintendent, do you not believe that the
rincipals in this affair. who have succeeded in
infiiing you so cleverly, are far superior in
every res ct to their wretched tool whom I
ca tut-ed ’ Hilda asked, abruptly.
he police chief saw the drift of the ques-
tion, and hesitated a moment before he answer-

I .

“ Well, yes, undoubtedly that is the truth."

“ Are you aware whether this broker and Mrs.
Burlington. are acquainted?”
: " No. I am not. 'But I should Imagine that
the chances are that they do know each
other.”

“ Now then, put these facts together. The
Dutchman has business relations with the

1)
“  it not right that a good detective should 1

“ We know all about :

her eyes shone With the strange light, so l

,I broker. Some one asked the Dutchman to go
I bail for Finn; the broker is asked by the Dutch-
man to dispose of his property: Mrs. Darlington
comes into the mar tet, anxious to urchuse
'ust such a property at this one particu at‘ time.
If you did not know anything about Mrs. Dar-
lingtou or the broker—if you were not aware
that both of them were above suspicion—would
you not be. apt to conclude that the purchaser
of the property was the, one who said to the
Dutchman, ‘ Go bail for this man: I will give
you so much money for the service, and after
the matter is arranged, will take your house
oil‘ your hands at your own price, paying You
‘ the cash in a lump, so that you can go to ’u—
1‘0 ic." ”

“ Well, yes, but circumstances alter cases,
you know. If I did not know the parties I
might think so, but as I do know them, I don’t,”
the superintendent replied. “ The man, Brake-
spcar, is not rich; he might be led into tempta—
tion, but the woman, being wealthy, would not
1 be a t to league with evil-doors.”

' “ ’oor argument!” the actress declared, with
In shake of the head. “ This is an uncertain
World, on know, and appearances are decep-
tive. nis woman may not be as wealthy us
you think, and then what reason have you to
think that money has anything to do with
this case at all? So far, there is nothing to
show that money could be gained by the attack
I on Mortimer, or through the abduction of the
; irl.”

| g “ That is very true, but experience has shown
| me that either money or revenge is at the bot-
tom of ninety-nine out of a hundred crimes, and
ina very great majority of cases it is money
that is the motive;and, as matters stand, it
iseems to me that it is not likely that either
Brakespear or Mrs. Darlington could have any-
thin to do with this matter.”

“ t will not do any harm to shadow both of
them though,” Hilda suggested.

“ You are ri ht in regard to that, and I will
have it done, i only to satisfy you," the super-
intendent remarked with a smile.

“ I shall be much obliged,” Hilda said, sober-
ly. “ I suppose it is both foolish and resump-
tuous for a novice in the detective bus new like
myself to jump to a conclusion, but I have done
so, and my opinion is, baviu gone from the
Dutchmanto this broker an wealthy widow,
you do not need go any further for you have ar-
rived at the principals.”

“ My dear girl, you are only guessing,” the
superintendent said ina fatherly way. “You

have really no proof to go upon.‘

“Wait and see if I do not secure some!” Hilda.
replied.

“ Oh, there is another matter that I want to
speak to you about,” she added, abruptly.

“ Go ahead.” I

“ You have put a shadow after me."

“Oh, you have detected it, eh'i”

“ I should make a very poor detective if I was
not able to make the discovery l” Hilda exclaim-

ed, contemptuously. .
l " And yet the man who 18 employed to watch
i on is considered to be one of the best in the
l usiness.”
’ “Yes, he does his work well. but I detected
him the very first day you put him on my track,
, the day after I arrested Finn. I came out of
the house to go to the theater, this man was
lounging on the corner, I hap ned to catch his
eye when I passed, and there read the truth.”

“By Jove! you have quick wits if you were

able to do that!” the police chi-4f exclaimed.
_ “ It is the truth; there was a look in the man’s
3 eyes which made me suspect that he had been
set to play the spy u n me, and in order to
satisfy myself upon t is point I doubled upon
my tracks twice, and the shadow, never sus-
pecting that he was discovered, followed me
with the fidelity of a dog."

“I suppose ,you are puzzled to know why I
took this step.

“ Oh, no, you thought that the confederates of
this Finn would seek to be revengcd upon me
for the capture of their pal, and so you put a
shadow upon my track in order to protect me.”
. “ That is correct.”

“ Well, I wish you would take him awayl”
Hilda exclaimed in a ver decided tone. -

 

in surprise.

“Yes, I want to be attacked !” the young ac-
tress announced. “ How am I ever to going to
get a chance to ca ture these rascals if you put
a man on my true to frighten them away?”

“Upon my word,I never thought of that!”
the police chief declared. “ My idea was to
protect you.”

“ Don’t you worrv about that, my dear sir, I
can protect myself!" the girl re lied, decidedly.

“ By Jovel I believe you can

. “ Take off the shadow—let me be the lure to
attract the pals of this scoundrel whom I twice
have captured, and yet who has both times
managed to slip through the, fingers of the men
to whom I delivered him. f the pals of Finn
will only attack me I will be deli hted, for then
I will have a chance at them, an if I donor. im-

prove it I am not Worthy to be a police spy.”
l p’Tho shadow shall be dismissed immediate-

 

“ Take him away!” cried the superintendent.

 

“ Thanks! 1 have a suspicion that there is a
watch on Mr. Mortimer too, for as we walked
home together last night, I fancied We were
dogged.”

“ Yes, it is correct, and there is a watcher
on the young girl Katherine also.”

“ It is wise, for it will prevent them from be-
ing attacked, but in my case I want to be, So I
can get a chance at the fellows.”

The entrance of the musicians into the orches-
tra interrupted the conversation at this point.

“I must be going,” Hilda said, rising.

“ I will act upon your suggestion about the
two parties,” the chief said.

" It will do no harm if no good comes of it.”

And this ended the conversation.

The superintendent departed, full of the con—
viction that the Actress Detective was the
strangest woman he had ever met.

CHAPTER XXlY.
rm: run-runs,

THE scene changes now to the luxurious par-
lor of the (lildcd ll idow.

She sat by the “indow gazing out upon the
avenue with a frown upon her handsome face
which sadly disfigured it. '

This was on the afternoon of the day which
followed the one whereon the interview between
the superintendent of police and the Actress De-
tective had taken place, as related in our last
chapter.

A cab drove up the aVenue, halted before the
door of the Darlington mansion, and Leander
Brakespear got out.

The countenance of the Gilded Widow
changed immediately. ~

“ At last!" she exclaimed. “I thought he
never would come.” '

She hastened to the door, and opened it just
as the gentleman placed his hand upon the bell.

“ I will save you the trouble of ringing,” she
said. Then she led the wa to the parlor.

“ You are late,” Mrs. arlington remarked,
after they were seated, the doors being carefully
closed so they could converse without danger of
being overheard.

“ Yes: and I don’t believe you can guess what
detained me.”

“ You are right,” the widow replied, with a
slight frown. ‘ I was never good at riddles.”

‘ Well. a spy has been placed upon me.”

The lady gave a start, and darted a rapid
glance across the street at the stately brown-
stone house which faced her own.

Brakespear noticed the look and gazed out of
the window to see what had attracted her atten~
tion, but was not able to discover the cause.

“ A spy, eh?” she 'said, slowly.

“ Yes; the fellow has been d ing my foot-
steps all day long; not that it has one him an
good, for he most surely has had nothing but his
labor for his pains.”

“ \Vell, that is some satisfaction.”

“ True; but we must take warning, and in the
future must be careful how we meet, lest suspio
cion be attracted. It will not do for us to allow
the enemy to see that we are on intimate
terms.”

“ That is correct.”

“When I discovered that I was being shad-
owed I made up my mind to elude the fellow’s
vigilance."

“ And you succeeded in so doing?”

“ Oh, yes, and without any trouble. I was
careful, of course, not to act in such a manner
as to lead the man to suppose that 1 had disoov-
ered his arm. Down-town there are quite a
number 0 business houses with two doors on two
different streets,” Brakespcar explained. “ I se-
lected a certain one of these houses, then sent
my office-boy for a cab, giving him instructions
to tell the driver to wait at the door of a par-
ticular building. and in order to make sure
that the shadow should not follow the boy and
so ascertain his errand, I came to the street
with him and went into an ofilcea few doors
away.” -

“ anticipate the result: the shadow stuck
to you and aIIOWed the boy to go on his we .”

“ Exactly, and when he was well out o the
shadow's reach I returned mung office.
boy was back in ten minutes wit the intelli-
gence that the cab had started for the spot.

hen I came forth, want to the building, enter-
ed by one door, passed rapidly through it,
came out at the other, jumped into the cab
and was off without seeing anything of my
man.”

“ That was cleverly done l”

“ Well I think myself that the movement
was pe ormed in good style,” the brokerre-
marked complacent] .

“Oh, yes, you easdy evaded the watch."

“ And in order to be sure that I had done so,
for I had a suspicion that there might be more
than one man on my truck. although I had not
been able to discover but the one shadow, I had
the cab take a devious course, doubling upon my
track three separate times so as to be certain
that I was not followed by a spy in another
cah.” ’

“ Oh, it waild be hard] possible that on
one would take the precaut on to place a pa

of watchers upon you!” Mrs. Darlington ex- -

claimed.

The v

 

 

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“ Well, I did not think that it was prob-
able, but I was resolved to be on the safe side.”

“ The idea was correct. There was but one?“

“ Only one! My cab was not followed, and
after I satisfied myself on this point I came
directl here, and that is the reason why I am
late. lost half an hour by this movement.”

“ \Vhat do you suppose prompted the placing
of this spy upon your track?" the Gilded Widow
asked, thoughtfully. , .

“Well, that is rather a difficult question to
answer,” the man replied, slowly. “As far as
I Cllll see, and I think I am as far sighted as the
majority of men, there is really no god reason
for the movement.

“ The only explanation that I can give of the
matter is that the police are thoroughly baffled,
and in ther perplexiiy they are hitting out at
random in all directions like a blind man, hop-
ing by accident to strike a clew.”

“ hes, that seems to be the only reasonable
explanation.”

“I was the broker who negotiated the sale of
the Dutchman’s property, and some_ Wiseacre
has suggested that it might be pOSSibIe that I
was the man who induced the Dutchman to go
bail for Finn, and so the detectives have put
their shadow upon me in order to discover it
there is anything suspicious in my daily walk."

“ Yes, the detectives are completely bilflle'l
and they are following up every 1X)SSlhIe clcw
with hopes of obtaining something tangible up-
on which to go,” Mrs. Darlmgton observed,

0 htfull .
t‘1]“ngwas rzther astonished at the circumstance,
for I did not think that any suspicion would at-
tach to me.”

“ In their baffled rage, not knowing which
way to turn, the bloodhounds Wlll try every
avenue," Mi 8. Darlington remarked.

“ 1 gave them the slip cleverly,” Brakespear
chuckled. “And although, even if I had been
followed to your house, the sleuth-hounds could
not possibly have made anything out of it, yet
I was determined to bathe ,the shadow if I
could.”

Mrs. Darlington laughed, but there was some-
thing sinister and omino’us in her merriment.

“ You have a good opinion of yourself, Lean-
der,” she said.

“ And have I not reason for it?”

“Perhaps; but tell me, if suspicion has been
directed to you because you had dealings with
the Dutchman, is it not likely that these acute
detectives will argue that as I purchased the
man’s property it is likely I may be fair game?”

“ Oh, no, I do not think that is ible!”
Brakespear replied, immediate . “ ou must
consider that there is a vast d' erence between
us. In the first place, I am nman and youa
woman, and it in a well-known fact that women
seldom 6 re as the master mind in plotting
crimes. hen it is well known that I am a man
who cannot boast of a large incouie' my tastes
and habits are expensive, and it could be argued
that if I saw a chance to make a good round
sum, I might be tempted to im rove the oppor-
tunity, if even at the risk 0 leaguingymyself
with those who liveelzy a life of crime. on, on
the contrary, are w thy; you have everything
that the heart of a woman can desire, and there
is no reason why you should take any risks.”

“ Well argued, but you are wrogg in your
conclusion, for suspicion has attach itself to
me!” Mrs. Darlington announced.

rakespear’s face became grave.

“ Haven’t you made some mistake I” he asked.

“ It does not seem to be possible, does it?”

“Indeed it does not.”'

“ It is the truth, though !” the Gilded Widow
declared. “And the joke of the matter is that
you should take so much trouble to throw your
shadow OR the track, so that he would not be
able to report that you had visith me, and yet,
wheniyou ente my house, you did so with the
full knowledge of a watcher detailed to report
in regard to m self.”

“ Is it possili e that this is true?” Brakespenr
demanded, eVidently much-annoyed.

“ Oh, yes; this shadow business is not what it
is supposed to be. It is not possible for the most
expert shadow to keep a watch upon a shrewd
person, who is on the lookout for such a thing,
without the knowledge of the watched one.

“ ow, in my case, havin a auspiCion that
somethin of the kind niig t be attempted, I
have kep in eyes about me. In an avenue like
this, it WOUIK not be an easy task for a man to
keep 8 Wind! upon a particular house Vlthout
attracting attention. The constant resence of
a man in the street would be sure to be noticed,
and even if “10" were eight or ten watchers
employed, 006 1:0 Rhev'e the other at irregular
intervals. “(18110! them diluent in their ap-
pearanCe, the game could not be played upon
such a womanu I am without detection.»

“ No. that '3 ""93 “is only way would be to

bee the shadow in a near at hand.”

mkespell' 0W h
comprehended why thewfiosufia mag):

liar glance out of the window ,
is entrance to the parlor. M a “I
“ That is exactly What has been done!” Hrs.
Burlington declared. to

 

tlTbe o be.
to a rominent lawyer “£0I i. ‘ m
Ion n, juatpthe kind of man, you know, “Dig:

 

himself to a game of this kind. No doubt he
and the superintendent of police are on the
best of terms, and the moment the suspicion en-
tered my mind that a shadow might be placed
upon me, I conjectured that the lawyer‘s house
would be used for a cover, and so I kept close
\vatch upon it.

" Do you notice that window on the upper
side of the house on the second floor?”

Brakespear nodded.

“The inside blinds are closed, and the cur—
tain is down just as if the room was not in use.”

“ Yes, that is true.”

“ That is the window of a hall-bedroom, and
until wto—day the curtain was up and the blinds
open.

“ I comprehend; the shadow is concealed
there.”

“ Yes, I have a powerful opera-glass, and
from behind a blind in my room above, which
I arranged so I could watch my watcher with-
out heing detected, I have made the discovery
that there is a man in the room, and he is ap-
parcntly playing the spy upon this house.”

“ Ah, I see, there is no doubt about the mat—
ter, and by this (lodge one point has been
gained,” the other remarked, thoughtfully.
“The discovery has been made that we are in
communication.”

“ Well, there is nothing out of the way in
that,” Mrs. Darlington said, carelessly. “ If
the neighbors, or any of our set, had been ques-
tioned, the information could have been gained ”

“ I am sorry, though, that when you made the
discovery that a watch had been placed upon
the house, you did not send a message tomy
office and warn me not to come.”

“ Oh. no, no!” the Gilded Widow exclaimed.
“ Reflect upon the matter for a moment; you
will see that that would not have- been a wise
move. It would have been a difficult matter
for me to have Sent a. messenger without at-
tracting the attention of this spy, and no douht
be has arrangements made so that any one com—
ing from this house can be followed.”

“ Yes, I presume that is true,” Brakespear
remarked, after thinking the matter over for a
few moments. o

“Then, if it had been discovered that I had
sent a hasty message to you, would it not have
appeared as if we were in closer communication
than is apparent from a call made by you upon
me in the afternoon?”

“ Yes, you are right.”

“ And it was necessary, too, that I should see
you in order not only to consult with you about
this matter, but to make arrangements for the
future, for now that a watch has been placed
upon me, it will not be prudent for you to come
here again.”

“Very true, and we must arrange some way
in which we can see each other without these
shadows being the wiser for it, for it is abso-
lutely necessary for the success of our plans that
we should consult together.”

“ Yes, I have thought of that, and made all
the necessary arrangements.”

“ Is it possible?” exclaimed Brakespear, sur-
prised by the announcement.

“ Oh, yes; although I am a woman, I am
prompt to act, and do not allow the ms to
grow under in feet!” she declared, wit a tri-
umphant laug .

“I have arranged a scheme which I think
will heme these bloodhounds. I anticipated
three weeks ago that suspicion might be directed
against us, when the detectives entered upon the
matter with such zeal, and embraced an offered
opportunity to urchase a house in Fourth
avenue' directly n the rear .of this one, and
after I completed the purchase, I took advan-
tage of a night when my servants were out to
arrange two boards in the fence between the
yards, so as to form a gate; thus, under cover
of the hi ht, I can pass from this house to that
without anger of any one seeing me.

“ You can gain entrance by the basement
door; here is the key,” and she gave Brakespear
the article.

“ That is a capital device to foil these blood-
hounds,” he remarked.

“ The only difficult thing about it is: will you
be able to gain access to the house without the
knowledge of the shadows on your track i”

“ Oh, yes, I have already made arrangements
to baffle the spies for from we first I suagecwd
that a watch mi ht be placed upon me,” rake-
spear replied. ‘There is a small English ale-
house in a cross street, just of! Broadway, t
by a man who was a pal of mine in theod
country. He is on the ‘square’ now, for he is
doing so well that he would be foolish to t any
crooked work, but he hears the brand of t In-
visible Hand, and is ready to lend assistance to
a brother at any time.

“ His place is in the middle of the block be-
tween Broadway and Sixth avenue, and as the
block is an extremely short one, the yard of the
ale-house joins two other yards, both belonging
to saloons, one on Broadway and the other on
Sixth avenue.”

“ I can see the advantage of such an arrange-
ment at a glance!” Mrs. Burlington declared.

“ In the ale-house I have secured a room, and
stocked it with some com late disguises. By
going there any time after ark, Iran alum“.

 

woman l”

disguise, and either reach the street through the
chop-house, or by means of one of the two sa~
icons, and return to my room in the same
wa '.

“ A capital plan l”

“ So it appears to me!” Brakespear declared.
with a smile of satisfaction.

“ Oh, it is, indeed! As clever a one as the
mini of man could posSibly devise!" Mrs. Dar-
lington exclaimed, with great emphasis.

“ Do you think there is any man attached to
the Police Department of this Ciiyof New York,
from the superintendent dcmnward, who will be
able to follow on my truck!”

“ No, indeed!” the Gilded Widow replied.
“ The shadow who could trace you would have
to be more than mortal!”

CHAPTER XXV.
THE BROKER’S SCHEME.

THERE was' silence for a few moments, each
busy with their own thoughts.

Mrs. Darlington was the first to speak.

“ But how is it to be!" she questioned. “ Are 
we so utterly discouraged by our defeats, having
completely failed in all our attempts, that we
will content ourselves in the future with standing
strictly on the defensive?”

“Oh, no, that is not my llifll at all,” Brake.
spear replied, promptly. “ I am too old a
gambler to be discouraged because luck happens
to run against me for a while. In such cases I
always consnle myself with the old saying, ‘a
bad beginning makes a good ending.” ,

“ I am not at all superstitious and pay but .
little heed to old adages, but there is one thing I . i.
do believe in, and that is luck,” Mrs. Darlington '
remarked, thoughtfully. “There are lucky
peOpIe and unlucky people. I have met “1th
those whom I would not have connected with me
in a business transaction on any account, for
failure seems to attend all their efforts. Others,
on the contrary, a pear to have a golden touch,
fortune smiles on t eir every effort.

“ Now, in regard to our schemes, look lack!
see h0w everything went well until this actress
—this Hilda Serene was encountered, then came
nothing but ill luck.”

“ True, very true!”

“ She spoiled the Mortimer game; if it had
not been for her it would have succeeded.”

“ Apparent! so.”

“The irl, atherine, too, was in the coupe,
all difiicu ties had been smoothed away, and it
appeared certain that the scheme would succeed,
then, hey, presto! up like a phantom in the path
springs this girl and the affair is a complete
failure.”

“It was like a miracle!” Brakespear coincid-
ed. “ Still, it must be admitted that we man‘o
aged the matter badly. We were foolish to risk
sendiu Finn, knowing that he was wanted by
the po ce; still, he had changed his appearance V
greatly, and it is safe to say that he could not.

ave been recognized by any one but this girl. ..
Finn was the best man by far for the work in ‘ '
hand and so I risked it.” :

“And in nine hundred and ninety cases out 
of a thousand the scheme would have succeeded. - _
It is this actress who appears to be fated to be ’7
an evil genius,” Mrs. Darlington remarked. 

“ I am like you in re ard to superstition,” . <_
Brakespear observed. “ attach little weight ”
to signs and omens, but I am a firm believer in
lucky and unlucky people. This actress is one
of the lucky kind, and there is something about.
her that puzzles me too, she is so utterly differ: .
ent from any woman that I have ever encoun-~
tered. I have been to the theater three nights
this week, going ex realieto study this girl,
and the more I see 0 her t less I like her. -.

” took a seat well down in front—the third ‘
row from the stage,” he explained, “and pro-
vided myself with a powerful opera—glass. [-
etudied her as a man would apply himSelf too
difficult problem.” , -

“ And the more you see of her the moreiyou
are rplexed, eh ?" the Gilded “'idow exclaimed.

“ es, that is the truth.” ' . 7 ~

_“It is the case with me. Ibave gonefoin' .s
times to Niblo’s Garden on urpose to study thins:
girl and I took a irivate x, in which I so
well back so that. would not be obseIVed. _ ~
also had an opera-glass with me, and I did nob
fail to improve eve opportunity to use it
which the girl afl'ord me. utIcannoteay that
I_gained anything by my pains. The girlie
riddle which I cannot guess In fact, so uncene
tam have I become about her that I have new“ I’-
ous doubts as to whether she is a woman or a
man in disguise." . 

“She certainly is extremely masculine.” V

“ es, according to the accounts, the handled"
Finn, who is represented as being a stout, mus-~
cular fellow, with the utmost ease, conquering
him without dimculty.” ‘ 4

"No doubt about that. On the nightof W »
diets nheaml she knocked him flat. With 1
blow of her fist, wing it with as in skill“;
though she was a lar p liter,
when she intercepted t a con in AIIen
she dragged him from the vet’s box with
any trouble, although be resisted to the but
his ability.”  ,

“Exactl , as I said, more liken man than

in. Burlington declared. ' - ""

     
  
   
  
   
  
  
   
 
  
 
    
   
  
  
   
   
     
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
    
    
     
  
    
   
  
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
 
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
    
   
   
    
  
   
   
  
  
   
          
   
     
 
 
        
       

 

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. profession for her living. During the
I since this idea came into m

The Aetress Detective.

 

“ And yet she has all a woman's magnetism
about her. There is a peculiar look to her
strange gray eyes, a siren~like charm and grace
to her movements, and all the time I watched
her I was reminded of the tales the ancients told
of Egypt’s glorious qg‘ieen, Cleopatra, the far-
:famed Serpent of the ’ile.”

“ Upon my word! I believe the creature has
fascinated you!" the Gilded Widow exclaimed
with a scornful laugh. “ Why don’t you get an
introduction to the lady and make love to her?
I do not doubt she could be won with very
little trouble. The majority of these stage
women are generally glad to get husbands of
standing and repgitation even if they haven’t
much money. y marrying the woman you
would transform her from an enemy into” a
friend.”

Brakespear laughed at the scornnt and sar-
castic way in which the Gilded Widow spoke.

“ Oh, no,” he replied, “ that would be merely
getting out of the fryingpan into the fire and
such a thing is not to be thought of. One fact
seems certain though to me and that is that
the woman must be ot out of the way in
some manner for she is our evil genius and we
will not succeed in our schemes until she is
where she cannot possibly interfere with them.”

A dark look came over the woman’s face;
her eyes sought the carpet, she frowned, hit
her lip, and tapped the floor impatiently with
her shppered foot.

“ The project does not meet with your a)—
probation I should judge,” Brakespear remarlr-
ed after along pause.

“ I am afraid!” Mrs. Darlington exclaimed,
“ and that is a rare thing for me to say, for it
is but seldom since I grew to Womanhood that
I have known what it is to be afraid of any-
body or of anything, but I will admit there is
something about this actress that terrifles me—
something weird and uncanny as the Scotch
say. If we were living in the olden time I am
sure I should feel called upon to denounce her
as a witch.

“No, Leander, no, I do not think it would
be wise to attempt to harm this woman; as our
Indians would saf7 her “ medicine ” is too great.
and we would sure y come to grief in the attempt.”

Mrs. Darlington spoke earnestly, and her
voice was low and solemn.

“ You are in error,” Breakespear replied.
“ You do not catch my meaning. I have no
idea of attempting any violence. I agree
with you, the girl’s luck is too great, and if we
attempted to arm her the chances are great
that the blow would recoil on our own heads,but
there is a homely old adage which says, ‘ there
is more than one way to kill a cat,’ and so I say
to you, there are other methods of getting rid of
an enemy besides using personal violence.”

“Yes, that is true; you are wise not to at-
tempt to harm her, for I am apprehensive that
an attack might not only fail but would result
in our utter ruin.”

“We will arrange the matter differently.
This actress is poor and dependent upon her
t week,
mind, have fre-

~ .quented saloons which were avorite resorts for

actors, made the acquaintance of quite a num-
ber of them, and in a guarded. way, made in-
quiries in regard to this Hilda Serene, so, with-
out any particular trouble I learned all that is
known about the girl."

" That was wise,” Mrs. Darlington com-

mented.
V“ I always like to be sure of my ground, as a

. prudent general always examines the field

I «mason he

proposes to fight in advance of the
flict if it is possible for him to do so.”
“ That is true, and it is a wise precaution.”
“ I propose to get the girl out of the way it
will cost money, of course, but what are a ew

' thousand dollars when we are playing for a

' matter at once, for the

' , stake worth millions.”

“ You must expect to spend money to make
mesa; nothing ventured nothing win 1”

“ tis true indeed: i shall set about this
uicker we et the
actress out of the way the tteri” Bra espear
declar

"‘ You are correct, and now in regard to our
meetings in the Fourth avenue house. The

.key admits on to the basement: the number of

All the inside shutters are

' closed; you will find a lantern in the entry,

-, gig“ it and then proceed to the back room on

second floor: ope of the shutters is open so

 the light will shine through the opening. I wzll

 interview came to an end, Brakespear depa

ldthecall.

watch for the light and when I see it come to

you.”

A few more words of trivial import and the
rted
V " shadow ” o posits, to whom the broker
was known, chuckl wisely as he made a note

CHAPTER XXVI.
‘ A ranarmcan now.
~As we'have said, there was at times a
«liar magnetism about Hilda Serene that was

I
S.
no
5'
O

 peculiarly attractive to members of the opposite

She was not beautiful in face nor in form, sc-
hg to womanly standards, for she was al-

 

out.

together too muscular and masculine, nor par-

ticularly witty or attractive in her conversa-

tion, yet, for all that, when she chose to exert
herself to please, she had a wonderful power
OVer those whom she tried to influence.

Not that the actress was a coquette, or had
any idea of making conquests, for all such
things seemed to be entirely foreign to her na-
ture.

She was perfectly frank and straightforward,
yet was retiring in her disposition, and never
sought to make herself prominent.

The manager of the theater, who, of course,
was acquainted with the secret of her meetings
with the superintendent of police, and under-
stood that they were on public business, had
taken a great liking to the girl. and when he
came behind the scenes, which he usually did
almost every evening durin, the performance,
took pains to converse with iss Serene.

An old sport, and a thorough man of the
world, who had seen a great deal of life, he en-
joyed conversing with this girl, who was so en—
tirely different to any woman whom he had ever
encountered.

Mortimer, too, and Miss Serene, were on the
best of terms, and he almost made it.“ a point to
wait and escort Hilda and Miss Amherst home
after the performance, a circumstance which
gave. rise to a great deal of gossip, for the young
actor, in spite of his attractiveness, was not
what is called a lady’s man.

He laughed, when some of his associates
joked him about the matter, and said he
went home with the girl to keep out of tempta-
tion.

“ After I get home Itake a glass of ale, a
bite of something to eat, and go to bed, where-
as if I did not go straight home, but stopped
in a saloon to get my ale, the chances are
that I would-fall in with a gang, would take a
dozen drinks when I only wanted one, and
would not get home until the small hours of
the morning, and such a course as that would
soon use me up.”

,_ That there was a good deal of truth in this all
were compelled to admit.

Apart from the manager, Mortimer, and Miss
Amherst, who had taken a wonderful fancy to
Hilda, the girl had few friends in the company.

The influence of Miss St. Clair, the leading
lady, was great, and it was all exerted against
Hilda, to whom she had taken amost violent
dislike.

Stage life is a petty world in itself, and the
actors in the mimic scenes are generally at
swords’ points with each other.

The trouble with Miss St. Clair was jealousy.
She was a good actress; bore the reputation of
being one of the best young actresses of the day,
as was shown by the fact that she commanded
a salary of a hundred dollars a week, and she
confidently looked forward to the time when she
would shine as a star; in her ambitious dreams
James Mortimer figured.

She had fallen in love with him, and in her
passion there was a deal of calculation. Morti-
mer was popular, commanded almost double the
salarv that she did, and if she succeeded in win-
ning him and becoming his wife, that they could
successfully “ star” together was almost certain,
so it was with envy and rage that she saw the
young actor pass her by and devote himself to
the girl.

And the leading lady from the beginning
laughed at the idea that Hilda had saved Mor-
timer from the bullet of the stage hand.

No argument could convince Miss 'St. Clair
that the man had really soughtto kill the youn
actor' she believed that it was an accident, an
that l-lilda had- seized upon the circumstance
with rare cunning, to make a heroine of her-
” 0
She was up—stairs in her dressing-room at the
time the affair occurred, and so did not have the
evidence of her own e es.

Miss St. Clair’s in uence was great for she
was ‘a favorite with Moses Bolosso, the elder
brother, and the managing man of the two, and
it was whispered that if ‘ mein brudder” could
only succeed in getting a divorce from the frau
from whom he had been so rated for a con la
of years, he would gladly tall: Miss St. Clair or
a ner.

'lda went quietly on her way, attending to
her business to the best of her ability, never
taking any notice of Miss St. Clair’s shearing
ways.

Louise Amherst did, though' she was hot-
headed enough to resent an thing said about
Hilda, and she and Miss t. Clair had had
several verbal rows.

“The nasty thing!” Louise confided to Hilda.
“I am sure I shall slap her face one of these
days!”

“ Oh, no, you must not do that!” Hilda ex-
claimed. “That would not be lady-like; you
are a lady, and ladies do not fl ht.”

“Well, but you are a la y and you can
fight.” thelother argued.

‘ Yes, but I do not; I would be about the
last irl in the world to have any trou le.”

“ 0 you know that this horrid, stuck—up
this has threatened openly to slap your face
the rst good chance she gets!” Louise blur

 

Hilda laughed, but there was a gleam of fire
in her great gray eyes, and the peculiar green-
ish tinge began to appear.

“ Well, if Miss St. Clair knows when she is
well off, she will not try anything of the kind,”
Miss Serene said, a world of meaning in her
quiet tones. '

“ I am afraid that you would forget all about
being a lady, and be inclined to handle her as
you did the stage hand."

“ If she so far forgets herself as to attack me
in such a manner, I would most surely give her
such a lesson, that she would never want to
slap another woman’s face as long as she lives!”
Hilda declared.

But this threat of violence was all an idle
vaunt on the part of the leading lady. She had
heard the story of Miss Serene’s encounter with
the stage hand, and had no notion of having
any personal difficulty with the woman she
hated so bitterly.

She had made up her mind to do all she could
to injure her, though, and she hoped in time to
be able to drive her from the company.

All she wanted was an opportunity.

It came at last.

On a certain evening Miss St. Clair was not
at all like herself. She had been out with a gay
party of friends that afternoon, included in
which were the Bolosso Brothers.

Champagne had flowed freely, and sad the
truth to tell, Miss St. Clair drank much more
wine than was good for her. She was not need
to drinking, and the wine went at once to her
head.

After she got home she was dreadfully sick,
but by lying down until it was time to go to
the theater, she managed to get there and go on
apparently all right.

No one in the front of the house could have
told that there was anything the matter with
her from her speech or walk, but she was not
able to act at all and merely “ walked ” through
the. part.

In the last act the lights and the heat made
her head dizzy and she stumbled in her lines.

There was a halt for a moment—a “ stick ” as
it is called in stage parlance, which Hilda clever-
ly coVered up by speaking out of her turn and so
set the conversation going again.

In a few minutes Logadere settled the ac-
count of the rufiian duke; “My oath is kept,
first the hirelings, and then the master.
Blanche, you are mine, and I am here, stanch
and true I” and d0wn came the curtain amid
the plaudits of the audience.

Hardly had the green baize shut out the sea
of heads in front when a “row ” commenced
on the stage.

Miss St. Clair was boiling over with indigna-
tion.

“ How dare you show me up to the audience
just became I hesitated a moment by takin
the words right out of my month?” she demsn -
ed, half~crying with rage and mortification.

“ I am" sure, Miss St. Clair, I did not intend
to show you up; there was a wait and I covered
it up as well as I was able,” Hilda replied,
speaking as pleasantly as possible. She had
divined what was the matter with the irl.
Her wild Western life had made her used to
that sort of this}; she was really sorr for the
girl and admi the plucky way in w 'ch she

ad fought through the night. ‘

“ No such thing. there wasn’t any wait! I
would have spoken if you had iven me a chance.
You did it on purpose, and think it is out-
rageous to treat me in such a way,” and the
girl began to cry.

“ No, no, you have made a mistake; I would
not do an thing to offend you for the world,”
Hilda rep ied, gently, sorry for the distress of
the other. '

At' this point the stage-manager thought
that it was a fine opportunity for him to put in
a word. ,He was a middle-aged man of poor
abilities who made up by senility, and readi-
ness to 0 all the dirty work required, for his
lack of talent.

He knew that Miss St. Clair hated Hilda, and
that the leading lady was a favorite of the man-
agers, and so he eagerly seized upon the chance
to curry favor.

“ Miss St. Clair is perfectly correct!" be de—
clared, with the air of a great mogul whose
word was to settle the whole business. There
was no wait—I was at the book, and Miss Se-
rene really was greatly to blame for 5 king
without her one, and I am astonished t It she
should act in such an unprofessional manner!”

In three strides Miss Serene was across the
stage, facing the stage-manager, and so near
that she could have taken him by the throat if
she had so desired.

“ How dare you give utterance to such a false-
boodi” she exclaimed, in deep, earnest tones,
which came from her throat as clear as a silver
bell. “You know you were not' at the. book
when the stick occurred. You were not in the
prompt wing at all, but in the second entrance,
talking to the master-carpenter with your back
to the stage, and on knew nothing whatever
about the matter, or you took no notice of what

was goin on on the stage, and you cannot tell
for the e of you now where the stick oo-
curredl” ;

 

 

 

 

 

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The strange green light was glowing in the
actress’s eyes, and she towered above the old
stage-manager, who was a little, dried-up man,
like an angry goddess.

The official, completely surpriSed by this un-
expected attack, knew not what to say, for the
girl had uttered the truth, so, like most men
under like circumstances, he fell back on his
dignity.

“Here, here, you must not talk in that we
to me!” he blustered. “ Do you know who
am? I am the stage-manager, and 1 will give
you your walking ticket if you dare to talk
back to me.” '

“ Oh, come oil, Snoop!” exclaimed Mortimer,
in his deep disgust fallin unecnsciously into
the slang of the day. “ 'ou don’t know what
you are talking about. in on will not discharge
anybody! You haven‘t got any more authority
to do that than a brass monkey!”

“ I am astonished, Mr. Mortimer, to find you
upholding any such insubordination!” the stage-
manager declared, dismayed by this unexpected
attack.

“ Well you ought not to be, for Miss Serene is
right and you are wrong,‘ and on have made a
donkey of yourself by interfering in the matter.
I myself saw you standing in the second en~
trance with your back to the stage when the
stick occurred, and you never took any notice
of it, and you are no more qualified to give an
opinion as to who is right and Wmng than if you
had been up in Harlem. ' .

“ I don’t believe in men interfering when
ladies get into a dispute,” the actor continued,
before the astonished stage-director could collect
his wits sufficiently to think of a reply. “ And
so, under the circumstances, I should not have
said anything, but as long as one man has jump-
ed into the breach, and on the wrong side at
that, I don’t see any reason why I should not
follow.”

“ Mr. Mortimer, this is really too cruel, for
you to take sides against me!” Miss St. Clair de-
clared, between her sobs.

Mr. Moses Bolosso made his appearance at this
moment, considerably the worse for liquor, for
he had not gone home and slept off the effects of
the wine which he had indulged in during the
afternoon, but on the contrary, had taken a few
more glasses during the rformance.

He was not drunk, for e could both walk and
talk as well as ever, but he was decidedly high-
strung and flighty.

“ at ish der matter?” he cried, his accent
worse than usual.

“ ( )h, 3?. Mortimer is saying such cruel things
to me!” It iss St. Clair moaned. “ Miss Serene
has behaved dreadfully mean—made a r ular
show of me in the last act, boo-boo!” An the
sobs came thick and strong.

The Jew speculator was just in the condition

. to .want to show his authority, particularly as

only a minor member of the company was con-
cerned, and Miss St. Clair had been artfully
working upon him for some time by repeating
tales of Miss Serene’s short-comings, so now he
felt like “going for her,” as the boys would

sa .

X I t’ink you had potter make some isness
somewhere else. hey i” he cried 'an ril y s aking
his skinny forefinger at Hilda. “ took you in.
to mine troupe out of mere charity, pecause I
knew you wanted a job pad, nnd now you do
nothing but makes troublesl. You had patter
valk 0! on your ear, ain’t it! 1 gife you ze
grand bounce!” _

“ Held on, hold on, what is all this row?
cried the souorous voice of the manager, ad-
vancing sudden! into the midst of the party
and cutting of! t e indignant Speech whic was
on Mortimer’s lips.

“ Who is going to get the grand bounce, and
what for!" /

The Jew was just drunk enough to resent the
interference of the r,

“ This ish mine pisnesi- ” he exclaimed.

“ Is it? Well. you can bet our ducats that I
am going to have some show u the fun if there
is going to be any!” the man retorted,
tar . “ What is the trouble, Mortimer?”

“ re was a stick in the last act, M1339.
rene took it up, and Miss St. Clair. blames her
for. doing so; the stage-mans er lies about the
thing, trying to throw the b ame on Miss Se-
tone. I sailed in for justice and the ‘ main guy’
who knows nothing at all about the affair and
who is, from all appearances, about three sheets
in the wind. lump- to the conclusion that Miss
Serene is to blame and has dischar ed her.”

In this 310311139 terse manner, blinding stage
and nautical “ a t” mggthe'r’ the young actor
deliyreged th‘e etx‘pi gatiom,

“ rees 60 n ewind” wled thoman—
ager under his breath; “blameng Jew fraud,
I should think he was about a dozen!”

" Yeas! 399%,!“ ish mi“ PM”! I hafe dis-
cha 0

“ here ngcCormick! Where is my cop?”
roared the manager at the top of hm voice.
“ Send the peeler to me!"

The man er was setting angry and the mug
of his «my a in: wag- m .0,

“580 hyer, 0 . v '“ my and a.
the bun blamed business. I! Miss Serene hadnx

taken it up there would have been the m

 

' The  DetectiVe.

iblamed stick that was ever seen on this hyer

stage! And the next time that on take any of
your girls out and fill them up c uck full to the
neck with champagne, for' heaVen’s sake, give
them time to go home and sleep it off before you
put them on the stage to act!” I

This was quite enough for Miss St. Clair. She

ew fairly scarlet in the face and fled to her
gassing-room as fast as she could go.

She had received a temperance lesson which
would last for many a year.

To do the girl justice she was was not used to
drinking wine, or any kind of liquor; in fact, if
she had been it would not have made her so
sick.

The manager had met the party driving
through Central Park in an open barouche in
great style, and knowing that the Bolossos had
come to the theater well under the influence of
liquor he had made a shrewd guess as to what
was the matter with Miss St. Clair.

“Nothing the matter mit mine girls!” cried
the Jew, indignantly. “ V’at you mean, hey ?”

“ Say, you are as full as a cat!” exclaimed
the manager in a tone of deep disgust. “ I don’t
believe you could see a hole through a fort foot
ladder! Just you wait till my copper, c00r-
mick comes and I will show you a turn which
will astonish your weak nerves, I think.”

The Jew was not sodrunk as not tounderstand
that the manager had given utterance to a
threat.

d ‘8‘”Hey? V’at you vant your cop for—v’atjvill he
0. ‘

“ that will he do? He will fire you into the
street neck and heels!” the manager declared.

The Jew fairly grew black in the face with
rage and indignation.

“ V’at ish dot? you fire me oudt, hey?”

“ You bet!” the other declared, emphatically.
“ You talk about giving any one the grand
bounce. Just you wait until McCormick runs you
through the back door into Crosby street and then
you will have a good idea what a genuine grand
bounce is.”

The Jew was so angry and excited that he
fairly began to dance up and down.

“ V’at 'ou mean—you vill not dare?”

“ WillI not? Just you wait until the cop
comes and then you will see about that! You
are as full as a tick! and I don’t allow any
drunken men on my stage. I will fire you out
in a way to make your head swim!”

“ I am not drunk—I am all right, und if you
hate your bouncer touch me I will hafe you in-
to der court.”

“ Oh, you are so full that you don’t know
what you are saying!” the manager cried, in a
tone of deep disgust. “ And see here, I want
you to get a1 your men together and take your
traps, out of here as early in the morning as you
can.’

“ Hey, w’at ish dot?” cried Bolosso, who could
hardly believe he heard aright. -.

“ I say to get your traps away as soon as the
Lord will let you !”

“ I hafe two more weeks after this one !” the
Jew cried.

“ Not by a jugfull I have given you the
grand bounce! you have broken your con-

ract!”

“ How ish dot?” exclaimed the other, in
amazement, also sobered by this startling blow.

“ You have broken your contract!”

“ How was dot?”

“ You can’t play an snide show on me I" the
manager declared. “ ischarge your good peo-
ple and fill with bad ones!”

‘ I vill sue for damages!”

“ Sue and be hanged! that is a game that two
can play at. I have got as much money to pay
In ers asyou have. This show has got to run
on  as it has been running or 03 it comes for

“ Mine g‘ootnessl can I not be der boss of mine
Own show ’ the Jew cried, who had just got the
idea of the game that the manager was playing
on him into his head, and was greatly disgusted

at it.

“ Not when it is in m theater!” the ma er

re liedj with firm deterI’nination. mg .

he ew weakened- he saw that the manager
was determmed, and he wanted no lawsuits and
lawyers with their bi fees.

“Oh well, it ish right. I do not vant to
quagre mit anybody, or to makes some trou—
ble, he said. in a crestfallen way. “ Und if
you say dot Miss Serene vas in der right, dot
settles it, and I am much obliged dot she pulls
der piece through.” .

_“ All right, and now if, on will take my ad-
Vice you will go home and get to bed as soon
as you can. and if you feel rock in the morn-
ing, you Will find that bottle of thorns water,
fol owed by a cocktail, is the best thing to brace
up on,” the manager remarked.

The Jew retreated without saying a word,
and at this moment the red-whiskered policeman
made his appearance, rushing on the stage in
hot haste, having been informed that his pre-
sence was urgently desired.

He had his club out all ready for action, jud -
ing from the tone of the message that a smug)
riot had broken out. _

Astonished at finding that everything was
quiet and peaceful he came to an abrupt halt in

' I

 

23\

front of the manager with his mouth open, all
out of breath from his haste.

“ Phat the matter?”

“ McCormick, do you think it is (going to
rain?” the manager asked in a deep an earnest
tone.

“ How the divil would I know?” cried the
policeman in utter astonishment.

Everybody roared in laughter, much to the
amazement of McCormick, who could not for
the life of him see anything funny in the mat-
ter, and the groups on the Stage broke up and a
general rush was made for the dressing-rooms.

As Hilda passed the manager, he lifted his
hat. She smiled and said in a half-whisper:

“ I am very much obliged, sir.”

“ Not at all; a simple act of justice only,” he
answered.

There was a little crowd at the foot of the
stairs which led to the dressing-rooms, as there
were some twenty odd ple all came to go up
at the same time, and ilda, who was among the
last, was on the edge of the throng.

The stage-manager had witnessed the ex-
change of words between the actress and the
manager, and, smarting under the rebuke which
had Mu administered to him, took occasion to
remark in a tone loud enough for Hilda to
hear:

“ It is better to be born luck than rich, but I
did not know before that this rene girl owned
both the theater and the manager!”

With wonderful quickness Hilda wheeled
around; two strides and she confronted the
sneerer, a single moment and her sinewy hand
clutched him by the collar, the iron-like knuckles
pressing into his throat like so many  of
metal, and the glray-green eyes glared into his
face like two bu ls of fire.

“ You are an old man, Mr. Snoop, old enough
to be my father, and I should hate to have to
punish you as I would a young and reckless
boy,” she said, in the deep, earnest tones which
had in them something which strangely remind-
ed one of the roar of a wild beast, “full of
sound and fury.” “ But I must protect myself!
I cannot allow any one, no matter if they are
old enough 10 be my grandsire, to abuse me.
Have the kindnessto take back and apologize
to me for the words which you just uttered.”

Never was there a man more thorough]
frightened; his face grew absolutely white with
terror.

So completely was be under the control of
fear that if the actress had demanded that he

should kneel down that she might walk over.

him, there is no doubt that he would have pros-
trated himself with the utmost alacrity.
He apologized in the most abject manner.
, Then Hilda released him and roceeded to her
dressing—room, the wonder of a! observers.
“Great heavens!" cried Snoop, after she was
gone. “ I would as soon face a hungry tiger as
to have any trouble with that woman!”

CHAPTER XXVII.
HILDA SPEAKS PLAINLY.

MISS AMHERST had not commenced to un-
dress whcn Hilda entered the room, but sat in a
corner crying.

“ Why, Louise, what is the matter?” the
young actress exclaimed, hastening to her
friend.

“ Nothing—nothing at all, boo-hoo!” and the
tears came out afresh.

“ Why, yes, there is—what is it?”

“It isn’t anything, I tell you! I’m Ole)? cry-
ing from nervousness!” the girl repli . ‘ I
heard all the row from the entry and I got so
excited that when it was over I came into the
dressin -room and cried like a good fellow l”

“ We 1, it is all over now and no harm is done,
so dry your eyes, get of! your things and let us
hurry home as fast as possible.”

Louise got up and proceeded to obey the in—
junctions.

“Well, I must say that you are the stran est
girl that I ever saw,” Miss Amherst dec .

“ How so?”

“ You haven’t shed a tear!”

“ Why should I cry? What is there to cry
about?”

“ Wasn’t you excited?”

“ No, not particularly.”

“ “Tell, I was.
if it doesn’t just express the feeling.”

“_ I do not believe that I have nerves like the
other girls,” Hilda admitted.

“That is true enough, I am sure. Here I,
that had nothing to do with the trouble, have
been bellowing away like a big baby, and as
for Miss St, Clair—she’s in the next room, you
know ” and Miss Amherst lowered her tone-.—
“shelias been crying in there as if her heart
would break, apd she was fairly howling as she

 

came up-stairs.

“ I do not doubt that she was terribly morti-
fled. It was a terrible thing that the manager
said,and what made it worse was that there was

a tdealoftruthinit.” .. 'i

‘ Yes, our dear leading lady has got a lessoa‘
which will be apt to last her for one while,”

Louise observed with a giggle of merriment, as -'V

she recalled Miss St. Clair’s precipitate flight,
thus uickly changing from tears to smiles.

“ 8 was very sick at thejboarding-honse be" i ‘

Talk about pins and needles— . ‘

 

 

A. if

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24

The Actress Detective.

 

 

fore she came to the theater, wasn’t she?” Hilda
inquired. '

" Sick! Well, I should say so!" the other res
plied. “And the joke of the thing was, that in
the morning she was boasting to me of what a
good time she was going to have, and when
she came back and had to rap upon the wall
for hie—she has the room next to mine, you
know—”

Hilda nodded.

“ Well, when I went in she was a sight! Her
face was as white as your handkerchief, and
she was so weak from getting the nasty stui!’
off of her stomach, that she could hardly
move !”

“ I suppose she was not used to wine."

“ No: after she get well enough to talk, she
told me that she had never drank a dozen
glasses before in her life. Sick! \Vell, I bet

on! If you could onlyliavo seen that poor girl!

know that there isn’t any love lost between
you, and I myself have had manv a spat with
her, but you could not help pitying her as I
did!”

“ I presume not.”

“ If it hadn’t been for her coach she would have
never got to the theater, and it is really a won—
der how she managed to get through as well as
she did.”

Miss St. Clair, although she only lived a few
blocks away from the theater, indulged in the
luxury of a carriage to carry her tovand from
the playhouse. “ Just a star, who was making a
mint of money!” her rofessional associates dc-
ciared with indigna t sarcasm, and this one
circumstance gave rise to a great deal of talk.

In no profeSsion in the World. is there so much
envy and petty jealous displayed as in the
theatrical, and when a rother or sister is in
need, the manner in which the petty feelings
disappear and the “ player-tors” come for-
ward shoulder to shoulder to assist, is deserving
of the warmest praise.

It did not take the ladies long to remove their
stage costumes and get ready for the Street.

At the back door they found Mortimer wait-
inglfor them.

e had been chatting with the old door-tender
in regard to the trouble which had occurred,
and the sari old man who was regarded as
being as bar as flint, took pains to speak to
Miss Serene about the matter.

“ Well, my dear, you come out right side up
with care after all,” he said with the air of a
father. “ Don’t you worry! you are a 00d girl
and the Lord looks out for his own! y boss is
a good man. I’ve kept door here for thirty

ears and he is as good a man as I ever worked

or. He may be a little rough once in a while,
but his heart is in the right placc. Just let him
understand who is incorrect and he’ll stand up
for the right like a major.

“ All I can find fault with is his sendin r for
McCormack l” he added, reflectively. “ hat
Irish tarrier is no good; all he had to do was to

ass the word for me and I would have necked
hat fraud of a Jew and put him out in the
street soquick that it would have frightened
him out of ten years’ growth."

Miss Serene thanked the old man for his ex-
pression of good will, and then the three de-

parted.

“ Well, if cu ain’t a witch, Hilda, I’m a
Dutchman l" iss Amherst declared with great
emphasis after the three got into the street and
awe. from the theater.

“ 3 that so? Why, I thought you were Irish
or J aw i" Mortimer declared in the most matter-
of-fact way. Above all things he loved to tor-
ment the lively Miss Louise.

” You horrid thing!” the lady cried. makinga
face at him. “Irish is bad enough, but don't
cry Jew if you don’t want to lose my friendship
forever.”

“ Heaven forbid that such a calamity shall
fall u 11 me!” Mortimer cried in mock tones.

“ ow do keep quiet! You are worse than a
woman! You chatter so much you make me
forget what I want to say 1" Miss Amherst de-
clared.

“ 0h, now I remember!” she added. “ I was
going to say that you must be a witch, or you
never could have got that gruff old doorkeeper to
like any notice of you. I have played at
Niblo’s a dozm times at least, and wit my nat-
ural dis osition to be agreeable—”

“ Wit everything that wears pantaloons you
flirt i” added Mortimer in an undertone.

“ Be uietl You want to break up the thread

, of my t oughts again, but you cant do it! I
have always treated the old man in the politest
manner, and he never takes an more notice of

‘ me than if I were an Italian tblack. I al-
ways, am particular to say good-morning or
good-evening and goal-night to him, and he
usually rowls a sort of gruff ' humph’ in re-
turn, alt ough when 1 came on this engagement
and said in my sweetest manner, ‘ I suppose you
haven’t fo ot mei’ he was gracious enough to
growl, ‘Bac ain, he 1'" and Miss Amherst

, gave 9. laughlb e imita ion of the old man.

,, “Really, Miss Louise, this attempt of yours
' to flirt w th that aged doorkeepor is frightfully

regrehensiblei” Mortimer declared, gravely.

“ on you not find some fooman more worthy

at your stool! Why do you not try your arts of

 

fascination upon me, charming creature that
you are?”

“ And get Hilda here after me? 0?) no, I
guess not. I know better than that! ’ retorted
Louise.

The shot struck home; it was not often that
the girl managed to silence the young actor in
these ehafling matches, but on this occasion she
did so most (-il'r-ctually.

But the Point Seemed to throw a. wet blanket
over the three. for there was hardly a word
more exchanged until they reached the board~
lug-house,

Then in the entryway Mortimer bid the girls
good-evenng according to his usual custom, and
went off to his room, which was in another part
of tho house from where theirs was situated.

Hilda’s roosn wason the same entry as Miss
Amherst’s, but on the opposite side. .

“ Como into my room after you get your
things oil‘ and I wd! stand treat,” Miss Amherst
said. “I haven’t been feeling well lately, and
was complaining to the manager, and he told
me that all I needed was a little tonic, and that
the best thing woull be to get a bottle of good
port wine and take. a 'ine-glass in] three times a.
day, and to be sure and take one at night, just
before going to bed, with a couple of biscuit or
a sandwich or Something of' that-Sort, and he
added that grown men and women were about
the only creatures in the world stupid enough
to go to bed on an empty stomach ; even babies
knew better, and no animal would be idiotic
(‘1)0llgll to go to sleep until it had 1 lcniy to eat,
if it (.‘(dllll posmbly be obtained.”

“ That is exactly like him; he is an odd ge-
nius,” Hilda remarked, with a smile.

“ Well, I have tried it three days now, and,
would you believe it, it works like a charm? I
fer-l ever so much better.”

“ Oh, yes, there is no doubt that the prescrip-
tion is a good one.”

“ Come in and I will stand treat. I‘ve got
two big sandwiches, and can treat you to a royal
banquet.”

“ All right! Such a tempting offer is not to
be refused. l’ll Com-“i”

Then the girls repaired to their rooms, re-
moved their streht dresses, put on their wrap-
pers and then Hilda went to Miss Amherst’s
apartment.

Louise, who was as brisk as a bee, had a little
table with a towel spread on it for a table-cloth,
and on it were the sandwiches and wine.

“ Sit down and make yourself comfortable,
dear; take the rmkingwhair—I had just as lief
have a common one!’ Louise said, in the most
hos itnble manner.

flilda tried to decline, but Miss Amherst in-
sisted, so she took the rocker.

Louise poured out the wine.

There you are! now help vourself to a sand-
wich; isn’t this oily, eh? You must come in
every night, for mu awful lonesome sitting
here all alone, munching my bread and meat,
and drinking my wine.”

" You must allow me to pay for half the wine,
then, and I shall be delighted to come.”

“All right; that‘is a go!” Miss Amherst do.
clared. ‘ I’m horrid slangy, ain’t I?”

“ Not so bad as the average Fifth avenue belle,
if one ’inay believe the stories in the news-

“ That is true enough. I got acquainted with
a millionaire’s daughter in Boston once, and the

way that girl could talk slang would have made .

any of the dizzy variety blondes turn green with
envy. But in regard to paying for half the
wine, if the next bottle doesn’tacost on y more
than this, your pocketbook will not suffer.”

" How is that?”

“It is a present from the manager,” Louise
replied, a little bit confused. “Now don’t you
go and think that I have made a mash of him
or anything of that kind, for it isn’t so. He is
'ust a jolly fellow, nice to talk to, and always
33110“ with me, but I am not the kind of girl to
make mashes. I always take good care of my-
self, and never give any one a chance to talk
about me.”

“That is true, I am Sure: from what I have
seen of you, no one could possibly behave better
than you (10, although you are about as full of
fun as an egg is of meat.”

“ That is true; ‘ care killed a cat,’ and you can
bet all your ducats that I don‘t intend todie that
way!” the lovely girl declared. “By the wa ,
dear, you are not afraid of etting into bad ha -
its if you come and take a g ass of wine with me
after the show i”

“Oh, no, there is no danger. Yon forget that
I have played principally in the wilds of the
West, where whisky is as common as water and
I don t mind admitting to you, dear, that can
drink just as well as any man that ever stood up
to a bar l”

‘ “ You don’t say so!” cried Louise, opening her
eyes wide in astonishment.

“ I hope on will not think any the worse of
me for the onest confession.” .

“ Well, no,” the other answered, slowly, as if
she did not know exactly what to make of the
matter. .9‘ But you don’t really mean to say
that you can drink whisky, brandy, and all the
rest of the horrid stuff just like a man?"

“Yes, it is true; it does seem strange, I sup—

 

pose.,to hear a woman make such a confession,
but it is a fact. I was brought up in the mines
where liquor was about the only medicine that
could be procured in case of sickness and so I
got used to the taste of it long before I got
out of my teens.”

“ Isn’t that odd?”

“ And now comes the strangest part of all,”
Hilda remarked. “ Liquor, no matter how strong"
or how vile, has no more eifect upon me tin-.11
So much water. I do not believe there is a
man in the world that I cannot stand up
with and drink glass for glass until he gees
under the table.”

“ Well, well, upon my word, I never heard
anything like this in all my life!” Louise de—
clared in wonder.

“ It is strange, I know, so strange as to be
almost incredible, but it is true,” Hilda declar—
ed. “ The discovery that liquor had no efl‘ed;
upon me was made u hen I was only a little girl,
and it was a common amusement of the rough
miners, among whom I was brought up, to as-
tonisli and ‘clean out’ strangers who caire to
camp by betting that they had a child in the
place who Could drink any man under the table
and not half try either, and many is the bet
that I, won for the men who backed me in this
way.

“Whatever could your father and mother
have been thinking of to allow you to be
brx ught up in such a dreadful wayi" cried the
soubrette in righteous indignation.

And then perceiving that Hilda hesitated to
reply, a sudden idea came to IN 1‘.

“Oh, perhaps you hadn‘t any father or
mother!” she cried. “ That would account for
it ’

“ I had both,” Hilda answered in calm yet sad
tones.”

“ Perhaps I am causing you pain by my fool-
ish question!” Louise exclaimed. “ Forgive if
it is so, but, Hilda, I do take such an interest in
you, for every thing about you is so strange and
nmrvelons; you are so entirer different from
any woman that I ever came in contact with in
my life. Everything about you is as interesting
to me as a fairy tale to a young one.”

“ Is that so?’ Hilda asked with a smile.

“Yes, indeed it is!” Louise declared, earnest-
ly. “I haven’t known you but a little while, and
yet it seems to me that we are just as well ac-
quainted as though we had been together all
our lives, and I love you as dearly as though
you Were an older sister, you great, big, horrid,
dear, delightful, masculine, fighting girl, you!”

And then, without any ceremony, Louise
Emped up, plunged herself down in Hilda’s

p, put her arms arohnd her neck, gave her a.
vigorous hug, winding up with a couple of
hearty kisses, which Hilda returned with ardor.

“Ah, Louise, I believe that you are really
and truly my friend!” she exclaimed.

“ I am, if there is such a. thing as friendship
in this world i” Iiouise declared, and then after
kissing Hilda again in the most affectionate
manner, she resumed her seat.

“ Oh there is no doubt that such a thing as
friendship does exist!” Hilda declared. “ The
history of the world is full of records of men
and women who have been willing to die for each
other, a willing sacrifice on the altar of friend-
ship. The stor of Damon and Pythias iano
fable, and frien sas stench and true live now
in the world as ever ancient Greece could boast.”

“ Yes, I am sure that is true, for I would be
willing to do anything for you!" the other de-
clareo.

“If’the time ever comes, perhaps I may be
able to show you that you could not sib y be
willing to do any more for me than would do
for you i" Hilda returncd.

“Ain’t that nice?" Louise exclaimed, with a
beaming smile. “And now, dear, that you
know how I feel toward you, I hope you will not
think that I am inquisitive when I declare that
I am fairly hungry to know every little bit of
your history, you strange man-woman i”

“ Well, my life has not been an uninterestin
one,” Hilda replied. " And some dav, wl‘en
fool in the humor for talking, perhaps I will tell
you all about it.”

“ That’s a dear l”

“ But in regard to my parents permitting me
to be placed on exhibition, as it were, in the
strange and unnatural way of which I Spoke, it
can readily be understood why they were willing
when I say that for twenty years before my
father’s death,,which took place when I was a
girl of fifteen, he had hardly drawn a sober
breath: be was steeped in liquor almost con-
stantly.”

“ I-l ow dreadful!” Louise exclaimed.

“Yes, and my wretched mother was but lit-
tle better. She died when I was ten years old,
leaving me to grow 11 like a weed.” .

“ Well, well, of all he romantic histories l”

“ But as I was natural! quick and apt I got
quite a ood education. it though I never went
to schoo a day in my life, but u our little iso-
lated camp. away up in the mountains a bun-
dned miles from any town of importance there
were lenty of educated men following the
miners life, who took pleasure in teaching me
for it was amusement to them and as my min
began to expand under their tlachings, it was a

 

 

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a“-.. I

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_ as Jenner-ls discovery

 

sort of wonderment to me that men of such re-
flnement, education and ability, should live in
such a God-forsaken region, afar from all the
comforts and luxuries of civilization."

“ 1t certainly was strange.”

“Not when the facts in the case are under-
stood,” Hilda explained. “There was hardly
one of these men who was not a fugitive from
justice for crimes committed in civilized com-
niiinities.”

“ ()h, yea, I see.” .

“They herded together like wolves in the
mountains, because they were outcasts, Iailillfl-
Elites» against whom, in regions where law and
order was respected, every man’s hand was
turned.” -

“My goodness! Itht a bringing up for a
girl!” the soubrette declared, in Wullilcl‘.

“Yes, but these outlaws and outcasts were
all good to me, and almost every man in the
camp tried to teach me that which he knew
best, so I, the wild child of the eVerlasting hills,
grew up lmssessed of most of the accomplish-
ments of a modern belle, carefully educated for
the fashionable drawing-room, with a view to
catching a Wealthy husband, and in addition,
the expertnessin weapons, cards, dice and all
sorts of rough, rude masculine sports of these
outcast men who went about holding, as it
were, their lives in the hollow of their hands.”

“on, what a book your life would make!”
LOuise declared.

“ I may write it one of these days when I get
into the-sere and yell0w leaf,” the other re-

lied.

p “ Don’t forget to put me in as one sincere and
devoted friend, even if you never take a fancy
to another girl i”

“ Friends are too scarce with me to be lightly
forgotten l” Hilda replied.

“ But to return to the point from which I
started; it was my wonderful ability to drink
the fiery liquor with about as much impunity as
though it was so much water that made me the
wonder of the camp.

“ One da a doctor came into the settlement,
an educatm man who had once held a fine posi-
tion in the East but had mined himself by his
appetite for strong drink.

“ The miners tried to fleece him by offering to
bet that they had a child of tender years who
could drink more than he could. but he was
sober, in possession of his wits and laughed at
the hunter—the first man who had ever struck
the camp who had not jumped eagerly at the
chance to, apparently, win money, so easily.

"“ Oh, no, geiitlemen,’ he said, ‘.you cannot
ring in any (‘old deal on me! Shekels are scarce
with me just now and I hav’n’t got any to throw
awa .”

“  vain the crowd assured him that the game
was a fair one—that there was no catch in it,
and no undue advantage would be taken of him.

“ It was really not the man’s money that they
were after but the chance of laughing at him for
being beaten by a child. ,

“ But the more the crowd talked, the more the
doctor laughed.

“ ‘ Oh, no, boys, you have got the wrong pig
by the car this time!’ he declared. ‘Although
I have never seen yourgame, nor even heard of
it, yet I understand it Just as well as thou h I
had seen it played adozen times. I am a oc-
tor, gentlemen, and I flatter myself amt I am
as well posted in all the discoveries and tra-
ditions of my trade asany man that you will
boa ttoscare up on this side of the herring-

n
p0“ ‘ I know exactly the sort of game that you
are putting up. You have got hold of an ab-
normal case—one out of fifty or a hundred
million, there are only an instance or two
reported in the books since the da 3
of Golden, which is {of back almost to t. e
fountain spring of medl l literature—a child
whose system at birth was so saturated wrth
alcohol that strong liquor has absolutely no ef-
fect—a patient more likely to get drunk on
water than on whisky—tho result. it is conjec—
tured by the able men who have made a study
of the subject, due to excessive indulgence in
liquor by the ancestors of the child, goin back

'bly for three or four generations. ossi-
Ely I can make the poSItion plainer to you,
by stating that it 18 about the' same
that by inoculating a
man With cow-pox, the likelihood of his taking
t"nan-PO! Wu reath reduced. The S stem
of the child is nosim of alcohol that morea cohol
introduced into it produces no efi‘ect.’ ” _

“ Well. now that man knew something!”
Lonifile (1°C 0 following the tale with great
interest.

“ Yes, the miners rated him to be the great-

t sharp in the scientific line that ever struck
t e town. He took a great interest in me, after
we became acquainted, and to him I am in-
debted for the best part of my education.”

CHAPTER XXVIII.
- mom: or ran am.
it Wm really, when you began I had no idea

gentlemen

that it was going to be so interesting!" said

Louisa H on, what a dull, common ace, hum-
drum life mine appears to be after inching-to

the am of your early career.”

 

‘  The 'Actres’si‘Detect-ive.

“ Yes, there are but few in the world, I fancy,
who can tell of so strange a childhood as mine
was.”

“ Now that I know your history, I do not
wonder that you are so self-reliant, so able to
fight your own battles.”

“ es, all my early training was in that direc-
tion,” Hilda answered.

“ But really, can you drink liquor just the
same as if it was water, and does it not have
any more effect on you 3” the other asked, hard-
I y able to believe that such a marvelous thing
could be true.

“ Yes, it has no more taste to me than water.
All liquors are the same to me. If you Were to
blind my eyes, and give me some wine, whisky,
brandy or pure alcohol, I could not tell the
difference between them."

“ Isn’t that strange?”

“ I sip your wine out of pure good fellowship,
but if you gave me water I should like it just as
well as far as enjoyment goes.”

“ Oh, you mean thing you!” Louise exclaimed.
“ You wanted to cheat me by paying for half
the wine when it doesn’t do you any good and
you do not enjoy drinking it.”

“ Oh, my dear Louise, I do enjoy your com-
pany, though!”

“ Yes. but there is no use of your throwing
away your money for wine; you see, I have a
frugal soul.” ~

“Yes, yes, but no one but yourself will say
that, though.”

“ But really, joking aside, there isn’t any use
of your paying for wine that you don’t enjoy.
But you must have something to keep me com-
pany; what would you like? Tell me honestly
MW, and I will see that you have it, for I can
foresee that we are going to have men y a cozy
midnight chat toga her before our season ends,
for after we at on the road we will room to-
gether—now on’t you say ‘ no ’ for my heart is
Set on it!” Louise declared with the air of a.
spoiled child.

“ Ver well, dear, it shall be as you wish.”

“ Ant now you bi man-woman, what will
you have for your mi night lunch?”

“ A cup of coffee would suit me better than
anything else.”

“ Oh, myl I should not be able to sleep a
wink if I took coffee i” Louise declared.

“ It does not affect me at all, but I believe 1
can sleep anywhere and under almost any con-
ditions.”

_ ” You shall have your coffee. I will get a
tiny coffee-pot and one of those contrivances to
put on the burner and make the coffee by the
aid of the gas every night. It will only take a
few moments while we are changin our dresses.
Oh, we will haVe just a delightful time!” and the
lively girl laughed merrily. '

“ Yes, undoubted] we will enjoy it.”

“ Do you know, ilda, I tried to get St. Clair
to go into something of the kind with me when
I first met her, but, oh, my goodness! her lady-
ship was not disposed to put herself on familiar
terms with me at\all. Her highmightineSS, the
leading lady, could not condescend to take lunch
with the soubrette, although she did borrow
four dollars from me when we were out shop»

pin together once, and it was a good four

w before I got my money: then I had to
dim for it too.” And an expression of lofty con-
tem t ap red on Miss Amberst’s face as she
flnis ed t e sentence.

“ It is apparent that 6gp have not a ve
good opinion of Miss St. ir," Hilda observ ,
with a quiet smile.

“ Indeed I have not!” the soubrette declared.
“ She is a, horrid, proud stuck-up thing, and
between you and me, and the bedpost. I do not
think that she is half as good an actress as she
reckons herself to be,” Miss Amherst continued.
“ She has had the luck to t good en ements
and has been smart enoug to at info t e good
axes of some managers who ave done their

to push her forward, and that is why she
has been able to get along so well.”

“ Yes, I think you are right,” Hilda remarked,
thoughtfully. “ She is a prett woman with a
good stage presence, but she
great actress. ,

“ No, indeed! She is as far advanced now as
she will ever get!” - '

“_I have not had much to do with Miss St.
Clair since I joined the com ny ” Hilda ob-
served. “ As you have probab y no ced, I keep
prettywell to myself, but I fancy that Miss St.
Clair is no friend to me, although there isn’t
any reason why she should not be.

“ Oh, yes, there 18!” Louise exclaimed, imme-
diately. “ She is Jealous of you i”

“ Jealous of me ’

“ Yes, on account of Mr. Mortimer. She has
been sweet on him for a‘ long time-there has
been a regular sort of a flirtation between the
two, you know; Miss St. Clair is a horrid flirt;
one of the kind who wants to have all the
youfig men at her feet, particularly such men
as ortlmer, young, handsome, and talented-

he is fond of a good time and so has joked and ,

lau bed with her, and although I am satisfied
thug he never had any idea of marryin her yet
she was vain enough to believe she he made .
conquest/and as she is one of the kind who
cannot brook a rival near her throne, she does

never make a-

 

25

not like you because Mr. Mortimer seems to en-
joy your society.”

‘ Oh, but he has no idea of making love to
me!” Hilda declared.

“ Well, I don't know about that,” the sou-
brette responded. “ He Certainly talus a great
interest in you—a great deal more, if I am any
judge, than he does in Miss St. Clair.”

“ Yes. that may be; but taking an interest in
a Woman, and loving her Well enough to marry
her, are two entirely different things.”

“That is true,” Miss Amherst admitted.
“ But, to my thinking, you stand a far better
chance of winning the man than this stuck-up
St. Clair!”

Hilda laughed at the earnestness of the other,
protested that she was not anxious to win any-
body, and after a. few more words of unim-
portant Conversation, retired to her room.

“ She is the oddest- girl I ever met,” was the
soubrette’s declaration.

CHAPTER XXIX.
MORTIMER DECLARES HIMSELF.

HILDA did not attach any importance to Miss
Amherst’s words, nor, in fact, did she give them
another thought after the conversation ended;
but during the next day the subject was forci-
bl brought back to her.

)She chanced to encounter Mr. Mortimer in the

rlor.

The gentleman was sittin by the window,
reading a newspaper when ilda entered.

“ Ah, is that you,  Serene?” he exclaimed,
rising and pushing forward a rocking-chair for
her accommodation. “ You have come most
opportunely, for I was just thinking of you,
and wishing you were here.”

“ Do you possess the wizard’s power, then, of
making people come when you want them?”
Hilda said, with a smile, as she took possession
of the chair.

“ Oh no, I do not think I am as highly gifted
as all that,” the young actor replied. .“ And, in
fact, if we come to of wizards, you cer-
tainly have shown that you are far more gifted
in that line than L” '

“ Now you are overrating my poor abilities i”

“ Oh, no, I was talking with the superinten-
dent of police this morning, and he said that,
in his opinion, you were one woman picked out
of a million.”

“ He is extremely complimentary, I am sure,”
Hilda remarked. “ And the next time I meet
the gentleman I shall have to thank him, for, as
the old saying is, ‘ Praise from Sir Hubert ‘
Stanley is praise indeed.’ ”

“Oh, he was honest about it!” Mortimer de-
clared. “He asserted that you were a natural-
born detective, and it was his belief that if
you adopted the callin , you would make a
name, for yourself secon to none in the busi-
ness

“That is the life for me, then, if his jud -
ment is correct, for I feel certain that l wfil
never make my eternal fortune as an actress.”

“ But it seemssuch a strange kind of a life
for a woman to adopt,” the young actor re-
marked.

“Yes, but if I am better suited for that
kind of an existence than for any other, I
should be foolish not to adopt it,” Hilda urged.

“ Miss Serene—Hilda!” exclaimed the young

1

I

 

actor, impulsively, “there is an existence for I

you which, I think, would be far preferable to
the one upon which you think of entering. Per. ‘

haps it is egotistical for me to make such an an- ‘

nouncement, though, and that I am consideri
how it will affect me more than how it w
with you.”

A slight shade came over the face of the
girl as she listened to the hurried words of Mor-
timer. -

With a woman’s instinct, she anticipated
what was coming.

“I feel that I am greatly indebted-to you, ’

Hilda, I owe you my life!”

“ Oh, no 1” she interrupted. “ It is not certain} ‘
that the bullet of the assassin would have been .

fatalnif I had not chanced to interfere with his
aim.

“ I do not feel so sure about that,” he replied.
“ The fellow was evidently a good marksman,
and felt pre sure he could wing me, or else
he would not
therefore I consider that i am indebted to you
for my life, and now I am going to ask you to
make that life happy by sharing _it With me.
Hilda, I love you—wi i you be my wife!”

The irl cast down her eyes and a troubled
express on appeared upon her face; she hesitated
for a few moments before she replied:

“Mr. Mortimer, it is an honor foran woman : i

to be wooed by such a man as you are, she said
at last. “ And deeply do I regret that I am not

able to return a favorable answer to your suit. 2, 
- “ In the first place, I think that you havo ' '
I made a mistake in regard to your fauna? to.
I.

ward inc—I feel sure, Mr.‘ Mortimer, t
are of too noble I. nature to take ofleneo

speak plainly.”

“Certainly not! The man who cannot 

to hear the truth is not worthy of the name!”
the young actor declared. ‘

“That you believe you love me well an 
tomake me your wife Idonotdoubt,” ,

, .

ve attempted to do the trick;-

 

 

 

 

 

 

“26"

a nature.

1  man, and twin sisters, Katherine and

 

 

4L

remarked. “But often, under like circum-
stances, mistakes are made. To my thinking
the sentiment which fills your heart is more
akin to gratitude than love.” ,

“ Oh, no, no!” Mortimer exclaimed, impul-
sive] .

Hi da smiled and shook her head.

“ Of course, you are satisfied that you have
not made any mistake; that is natural, but I
am very doubtful about the matter; it is only a
waste of time to discuss it, though, for it is one
of those things which time alone can decide. I
must admit, though, that I do not think I would
be wise to accept your offer With this doubt in
my mind, even if I were disposed to do so.”

“ Put me to the test!” Mortimer exclaimed.
“ Time proves all things, you know. I am not
in a hurry, but am willing to wait. Take six
months, or a year, if you ike, and if at the end
of that timeI am still constant then,perhaps, you
will come to the conclusion that the sentiment I

‘ feel for on is love and nothing else.”

“ -We , a year ought to test the matter, sure-
ly,” Hilda replied. “ Still, in the case of a man
like yourself, who is strictly honorable, it might
not be a fair test, for you might deceive your-
self, thinkin that you were bound to love me,
since you ha sought to gain my affections.”

“ On, no; if I discovered I had made a mis-
take, I most assuredly would be quick enon h
to admit it. I would not be acting honest y
with on to do otherwise.”

“ hat is true; but I am afraid that your
sense of honor would lead you to believe that
your gratitude was really love,” Hilda re-
marked. “ But as this is a point which can only
be settled by the in of time, it will be useless
for us to discuss t a matter further at present,
and now I Will come to another reason which
prohibits any thoughts of a union for us.

“ As you have probably discovered, long be-
fore this, I am not at all like the vast majority
of women.

“ I ought to have been a man; there is not the
least doubt about that. All my tastes are mas-
culine and not feminine, and the best proof of
my assertion is the liking I have for the life of‘
a detective.

“ I assure you, Mr. Mortimer, that I have
never in all my life felt the least spark of love
for any gentleman.

“ Few girls are there who do not look forward
to marriage as being the end and aim of a wo-
man’s life, but I never gave a thought to such.a
thing. From early childhood I havo been ac-
customed to look after myself, and so grew up
more like a boy than a glr .

“ I will say to you, Mr. Mortimer, in the
frankest manner possible that I like you as well
as I do anybod in this wide world, but the
feelin that is n my heart is gratitude and
frien hip, not love, and, moreover, I am per.
fectly satisfied that I shall never love you nor
any other man. Love of that kind is not in my
Let us be friends, good comrades, and
think no more of marriage t at if I were a man
instead of a woman,” and Hilda extended her
hand as she finished the speech.

Mortimer asped it warmly.

“ You are indeed a strange creature l” be ex-
claimed, “ and your frank explanation increases

.my admiration for you. how do not misunder-

stand me; I am not one of the kind to hang my
harp on a willow tree and sit down, refus-
ing to'be comforted, because the woman I fancied

' said no to my suit instead of yes.

“ If you cannot find it in your heart tobeoome
my wife I shall be ve glad to have you for a
friend and we will be as comrades, as you sug-
gest.”

And a hearty clasp of the hands ratified the
compact.

“ Well, I am glad we have come to an under-
standing,” Hilda remarked. “It will be much
pleasanter for both of us in the future. And
now I have a question to put to you which I
meant to have asked before, but, someway, it
slipped my mind. Do you know anything about

a young girl named Katherine Green?”

“ Oh, yes, I think so; that is] know one Kath-
erine Green; she is my cousin; her mother and
mine being sisters; but I haven’t any idea where
alarmist}, for I have not heard of her since I was a
c O

“ Are you acquainted with the history of your
family? Believe me it is not through any idle
curiosity that I speak.”

“ Oh, yes, I understand that; you are entire-
ly too matter-of—fact to Waste your time on tri-

. vial matters,” the young actor responded with a

e.
“ Well, my family history is soon told,” he
continued. “ Throckmorton is our family name
and we are of En lish extraction. I am the son
of Agatha Throc morton, who married James
Mortimer. My mother had an elder brother,
Nathan Smith Throckmorton, an odd, pieculiar
artha.

who married men named Green and Cauldweil.
fifatber went West, where I was born. Kath-
no’s husband remained here in New York
Cauldwell wanttoihlifornia, and that is ani

- know about either branch of the family.”

“Were either of these uncles by marriage

.waalthy men?”

7 a x . ,
, - \ , , I ~ - ..
-' t ". handinit‘. «  .'

 

The Actress Detective.“

“ No, they Were not at the time of the mar-
riages.”

“And this elder brother, Nathan, what be
came of him?”

“He went South—to Texas, I think, if I re—
member rightly. It is my impression that
my mother gotaletter from him in Chicago,
written in Texas, when I was eight or ten years
old. ’

“ And was he a poor man i?”

“ No, I think not, but, as I said, he was an
odd, peculiar man, who was very closemouthed
about his business. It is my impression that he
was retty Well off."

“ 0 you know if he is living or dead?”

“ No; I do not think that after the one letter
of which I spoke, mg mother ever received
any word from him. ut I say, Hilda, what is
the object of these questions?” the young actor
asked, his curiosity excited.

“Perhaps, though, I am acting indiscreetly in
asking the question and you may not wish to
answer it,” he added.

“ Oh, no, I am not‘ afraid to trust you,” the
actress detective answered with a smile. “ I
am merely blindly groping in the dark seeking
some clewrby which I may solve the mystery of
the attack on you. 4

“ There was a motive for it, of course, and as
you have no personal enemy who had reason to
wish to kill you, I jam to the conclusion that
it might be possible t 1: you Were the heir to
some arge estate. By accident I frustrated a
scheme to abduct this young girl, Katherine,
your cousin. There is no reason, apparently,
why any one should plot against her any more
than against you, but as the same man was con.

‘ corned in both the attack on you and the attempt

to abduct her, it certainly appears as if one
party was at the back of both affairs—that a
common motive dictated both attem ts.”
“Yes, that certainly seems so,” ortimer re-
marked, struck by the force of the reasoning.
“Now out of this scant famin history of
ours I construct a possible case,’ the Actress
etective remarked. “ This Uncle Nathan Smith
Throckmorton prospered in Texas—accumulated
a large fortune and died leaving no direct issue.
You and Katherine are the heirs to the prop-
erty, but there is some one else who would come
in for the money if you and the young girl
were out of the way, and it is this arty who
has struck these b10ws at yourself and) the girl.”
“ By Jove! I believe you have hit upon the
truth i" the young actor exclaimed. “ But who
is the party i” '
“A ,now you are asking more than I can
tell or even guess, but I have a suspicion that
some member of the Cauldwell family, about
whom you know nothing, is at the bottom of
the mystery, and upon that belief I am going
to work.”
“ Well, if you succeed, it will be a great
achievement!” Mortimer declared, and this
ended the interview.

CHAPTER XXX.
AN onn PROPOSAL.

AN hour or so after the termination of the
interview between the Actress Detective and
Mortimer, Hilda received a message that a lady
was in the parlor who desired to speak to her.

Descending to the room Hilda encountered a
dark-faced woman, plainly dressed in black,
who looked like a foreigner. Her hair was dark
brown, almost black, and thickly streaked with
gray, although her eyes were blue, and the con-
trast gave her a curious look; she was not youn ,
but a woman of fifty or thereabouts, ev1dent y
a lady, and well-educated.

“ And is this Miss Serene?" she asked rising
as the young actress entered the room, an evinc-
ing considerable astonishment.

‘ That is my name.”

“ You look much different of! the sta o,” the
stranger explained. “ I do not think would
have recognized you had we met in the street,”
and the speaker was studying the face of the
actress as she spoke in a way that Hilda did
not like.

The Actress Detective did not allow the other
to see this though, but smiled in a placid way
as she replied:

“ I sup the footlights and the stage cos-
tume do make a deal of difference in one’s ap-

rance.”

“ Will you grant me the favor of a few min-
utes’ conversationl" the lady nsked,with stately
politeness.

“ Certainly, I am at your service; pray be
seated.”

The stranger resumed her seat, and Hilda also
took a chair.

“ I have become much interested in you, Miss
Serene, from seeing you on the stage,” the lad
explained. “ I am a rest theater-goer, when
am in the city, an generally spend two or
three nights a week at the theater. I have
seen the pla in which you appear four times
now, and sac time became more and more in-
terested in you.”

“ I am glad to hear it,” Hilda replied, with a
courteous bow. “ Although I must say I won-
der at it, for even if I were a much greater

 

actress than I really am, it would be a difficult
matter for me to make any particular im—
pression in such a minor role.”

“ Oh, you wrong yourself, my dear Miss Se-
rene, and underrate your abilities, I am sure i”
the lady declared.

“ Oh, no, I know what I can do. I am no
novice in the histrionic art, and am fully aware
that the greatest actress in the world could not
hope to make any particular impression in a
role”of so small importance as Blanche de Cay-
lus.

“ Of course you did not shine as a star, but 1
am sure that there were few in the audience who
did not get the impression that you would have
been able to do much better if you had had a
more prominent role.”

“ Well, I am glad to hear it,” Hilda remarked,
in a placid way.

She was on her guard, for, instinctively, she
scented danger.

“ You must allow me to introduce myself,
and to explain why I took the liberty of calling
upon on,” the lady continued.

Hi] 3. bowed but spoke not.

“ I am a stran er in the city,” the lady pro—
ceeded, “ and, alt ough I do not suppose you
would judge so by my appearance, or conversa-
tipi’i, I am a foreigner, being a native of Bra-
z1 .

“ No, I should not have suspected it.”

“ My father was an Englishman thou h, and
that accounts for my perfect comman of the
Ian uage. Here is my card.”

ilda took the card and read the inscription
upon it aloud.

“ ‘ MADAM Msacanns Commas,
“ Seminary for Young Ladies,
“ Rio, BRAZIL’”

“My school is one of the most flourishing in
the empire,” the lady explained. “I have room
for thirty pupils and am alwa full. My
pupils belong to the best fam' ies, for my
charges are high, and none but wealthy people
can afi'ord to place their daughters in mv care.
We pay particular attention to the English
branches, for among the higher class in Brazil
a knowledge of English is considered to beef
the utmOSt importance. My mission to New
York is, principally, to secure a competent Eng-
lish teacher, and when I saw you n n the stage
the idea came to me that you won (1 be just the
lady for the position.” I

“But I have never had any experience in
teaching,” Hilda remarked.

“ Oh, that does not make any difference,” the
lady replied, quickly. “A good command of
English is about all that is needed, and then
your stage training will come in play, for it is
necessary that the young ladies should be in-
structed in polite English literature.”

“ Yes, I see.”

“ I am prepared to offer liberal terms, for I
am aware that with a lady like yourself it is
necemary to make it to your advanta e to ac-
cept the situation. I am satisfied t at you
would be a great addition to my school, and it
is my wish to make my English branch particu-
larly strong, so I am prepared to offer liberal
terms.” ,

“ Well, I don't real] know what to say,”
Hilda remarked in a re ective way, apparently
ponderin over the offer.

“ I wil give you eighteen hundred dollars a
year, with your board and lodging, pay your
fare to Brazil and also pay your passage back
at the end of the engagement.”

“ Your offer is a liberal one, and, really, I
am tem ted to accept it. although I amfather
doubtfu as to whether I will be able to give sat—
isfaction or not for-I have never tried my hand
at anything of the kind.” _

“ Oh, I am perfectly satisfied to risk that l”
the lady exclaimed, in the most confident man-
nor.

“ And as a guarantee of
an entire stran er to you, will pay you the
first month’s sa ary in adVance now, if you will
accc it it.”

“ h, I don‘t know I” Hilda exclaimed, appar—
ently much perplexed. “Don’tyou think that
I ought to have some time to think it over? This
is so sudden. you know.” _

“ Oh, no; it is really a very simple matter,
and one that does not r uire much delibera-
tion,” the lady urged. f‘ on will find me nice
and easy to get along With, and after you get to
Brazil. if you find that you do not like the posi-
tion, I will release on from your engage-
ment immediately. on see, I am so confident
that on will be pleased with your position,
that Iydo not hesitate to make this offer.”

“ You are very kind and considerate, I am
sure.

“ Come! you had better take the advance
money, and- make up your mind to go,” the
lad said, persuasive] , and she Opened her
w let as she spoke an counted out a hundred
and fifty dollars, which she tendered to Hilda.

“ You really tempt me to accept!” Hilda de-
clared, a longing look in her eyes, as she looked

upon the money. .
“ Do not attem t to resist the temptation!”
the other exclaimed, laughing. “ Make up

ood faith, as I am '

~w-

 

 

. . f. fl7~ét

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ...

 

“ ‘fiwfi 

The Actress Detective.

27‘

 

 

our mind to go—tako the money. The affair
is settled, and your mind will be at rest.”

“ Yes, that is true,” Hilda replied, but still she

\ hesitated.

“ Perhaps your engagement at the theater
prevents you from accepting?” _

“ Oh, no!” the young actress replied. “ There
will not be any trouble in regard to that. I am
only obliged to give a week’s notice. That is
the agreement.” _ ,

“ Take the money, say you Will go, give your
notice, and the week after you can be on your
wa to your new home.”

Hilda seemed suddenly to become inspired
with some of the ardor which animated the
other for the look of doubt disappeared from
her face. She took the money tendered by
Madam Contimar, exclaiming as she did so:

“ Very well, I will accept your offer, and will
be ready to sail the week after next. To—mor-
row is Saturday, and I will give my notice to-
night so the manager Will have a full week’s
warning, and then the week after I Will be
read to go with you.” I

“ 1y am so glad you have come to this conclu-
sion,” the other declared. “And I feel satis-
fled, my deer, that you will never have occa-

'sion to regret it. I am sure you Will find your
ition a most agreeable one, for the young
adios will be delighted to be taught by a New
Yorker, for we Brazilians are all familiar With
the greatness of this city, and few are there
among the better class of my countrymen who
do not anxiously look. forward to the time when
they will be able to Visit it.”

“ Of course, the idea seems very strange and
novel to me, but I do not doubt that I shall like
the position after I get used to it, but I shall
really be afraid to say much about the matter
to my friends, for fear that I may not be suc-
cessful in my new venture.”

The stranger was quick to take up the idea
that the speech of the girl suggested.

“ If I were you I would not say a single word
to any one about the matter!” she exclaimed.
“ I would mere] ' state that you are gomg away
for a little while, to attend to some business;
that is the truth, you know, and then, after you
have made a success, you can write and sur-
prise them all with the news.” 

“Yes, yes!” exclaimed Hilda, laughing mer-
rily, “ that would be a caIpital idea, and that is
exactly what I will do. will not say a single
Word in regard to my new departure to any
one, then, if I make a success, I can, make them
open their eyes in wonder, and if I fail, no one
will he the wiser.”

“ In my mind there is not a doubt but that
you will be successful,” the other remarked, and
then, after a few more unimportant words, the
Brazilian lady took her departure. ’

A strange expression came over the faoeof
tho Actress Detective when she was alone, and
if the visitor Could have seen the look it would,
undoubtedly, have given her cause for reflec-
tion.

 

CHAPTER. XXXI.
IN CONSULTATION.

ON the evaning of the day on which the inter-
view took place which we detailed in our last
chapter, Hilda arrived at the theater at an early
hour, and as seen as she got into the building

,dis tched a note to the manager,
is was merely a nest .for him to summon
the chief of police as she Wished to communicate
with the official. _ .

Inside of twenty minutes the police chief was
in the box. _ '

Hilda, by this time, was dressed in readiness
for the pla , and was waiting in the passage
when the c is! came. .

It did not take the Actress Detectivelong to
explain why she had summoned the oilimal, and
he listened attentively when she relatodthe ar-
ticulars of her interview with the Bra ' 'an

lM‘i‘yWoll, I expected that the party would get
after you, but I did not look for them to begin
0 rations in this way,” he remarked, when
Hilda came to the end of her narrative.

" Brazil is a long ways off.” Hilda observed.
reflectively.

“ Yes, and it takes time for one to go there
and return. I sup you have come to a con-
clusion in rd to the reason for this move?”

“ Oh. yes, 0 is to get me out of the way.”

“ Exactlv; you: are a, strong witness against
this man. Finn, and if on are absent when his
trial ”comes on, it w l undoubtedly help his

. i

“ From the manner of'ths woman I mistrust-
od her, although she talked fairly enough."

“ Oh. yes; 3‘10” 3 3313?? for such a position is
ridiculous,” the chief declared.  The. chances
are great that when you lot to Brazil you would

iflnd that no such scbgol exists. and this Madam
Contimar is a fraud-

" on. I came to that conclusion right at the
beginning” Hilda exclaimed. “ From what
she said, it would seem 8' If She W“ tO‘ sail on
the same steamer with me, but I fancy an“ at
the hut moment something wouldoccur to
vent her from 801“ “Pd 1 would m" *9 3°
alone.”

 

“ I should not be surprised if that was the
game.”

“ Of course I played the part of an unsuspect—
ing woman as well as I could, and I am satisfied
that I completely succeeded in deceiving1 the
woman, cunning as she thinks herself,” ilda
remarked. “ I suspected that there was some—
thing wrong about her from the first, and so
was on my guard.”

“I fancy from what I have seen of you that
the party who succeeds in taking you at a dis-
advantage will have to get up pretty early in
the morning,” the superintendent remarked.

The Actress Detective acknowledged the com-
pliment with a bow and went on with her reci-

al.

“ When the woman said she was a foreigner I
mistrusted that she was not telling the truth,
and upon examining her closel I became satis-
fied that she was disguised. or hair was false,
and her skin was stained with some preparation
so as to give her a foreign look.”

“ You are an acute observer,” the police chief
remarked. “ It is a pity that a shadow coiild
not have been put on the woman’s track so as to
find out who she was.”

Hilda shook her head.

“I hope you will excuse me if I doubt the
wisdom of this shadowing—that is in the case of
an old and expert band who understands all
about such a thing and is on the watch for it!”
Hilda remarked. “ it is my impression that no
shadow, no matter how experienced or skillful,
Would succeed in tracking such a woman as the
one Who visited me. Now, I am not well posted
in regard to such matters, but I discovered that
I was being watched almost as soon as the
shadow be an his work."

“ Well, don’t know but what you are pretty
nearly ri ht about this matter,” the chief re-
plied. “ n the case of an old hand the shadow
might not be able to do anything, but as ,far as
you are concerned, you must take into consider-
ation the fact that you are gifted with remark-
able powers of observation, and the shadow
who would make a complete failure in attempt-
ing to track you would successful with nine-
ty-nino people out of a hundred.”

“ Yes, I suppose so, but I do not believe
anynshadow would be able to track my visi-
tor.

“ Speculation is idle, of course,” the superin-
tendent remarked. “ What we have to do now
is to look after the future, not bother with the
past. What are your ideas on the subject?”

Hilda reflected for a few moments before she
answered; then she said:

“ Well, 1 think the best course for us to cgenr-
aue is to allow matters to go on just as if re
was no su icion that the woman was anything
but what s e pretends to be. I have agreed to
go to Brazil. will, apparentl , keep the agree—
ment. If the woman sails wit me then it will
not be so easy to appear to keep the compact
and yet in .reality reak it; but I do not think
there is the slightest dan er of her going. At
the last moment there wi 1 somethin'lg hap n to
dotainher, and I will sail alone. be p otters
will think that they have succeeded in their
game, and in my absence may grow more bold
and make some move which will give us a
chance at them.”

“ You have outlined the proper course to pur-
sue, in my opinion,” the superintendent re-
marked. " While the wily conspirators think
you are on the ocean. on {gur way to Brazil,
you will be here in New ork, hot on'their
track.” .

“ Yes; they are evidently anxious to get me
out of the way. We must allow them to think
that they have succeeded, and in order to still
further throw them off their guard, all the
shadows \ that you have now upon their track
must be removed.”

This was such a radical move that the official
shook his head in doubt.

“ Do you think that will be wise?” he asked.

“Yes; for the removal of the shadows will
make the parties think that the conclusion has
been reached that it was a mistake to employ
them,” Hilda replied. “ They will believe that

on are satisfied there is nothing to be gained by
coping a watch upon them, andso will bolulled
into a also sense of security.”

“ Yes, that is true enough.”

“ Then let me try my hand at the shadow
business, and if ‘I succeed in discovering anv-
thin the watch can be renewed.” '

“ on are right,” exclaimed the chief of
lice, in a tone of conviction. “ The remove of
the shadows will be certain to make the parties
believe that we have come to the conclusion that
we are on a wrong scent. That is, if they have
been smart enou h to detect that a watch has
been kept upon t em, and keen-eyed enough to
see when it is removod.”'

“ I see you do not give those letters credit
for as much ability as I do.” Hi da remarked.
" But before the game is ended I think you will
find that they are extra smart rascals.”

“ Well, I am satisfied that they are far above
the ordinary grade. still I do not suppose that
I am' so much imp with. their ability as
yeibeemyobe'wch; Ih

unning- as ey are. 0 to tra them ”
the Actress Detective exclaimed? And'thsn she

 

proceeded to explain how she proposed to make
or escape from the Brazilian steamer.

The superintendent of police liStened atten-
tively, and approved the plan in all its details.
Then the Actress Detective handed a memoran-
dum to the chief.

“ I desire to learn all the particulars in regard
to a certain party,” she said. “ The neceSSary
instructions are given in the memorandum.”

The superintendent of police glanced at the
writing and remarked that he would see that it
should receivo careful attention.

This brought the interview to a close, and it
was time, for the musicians had made their ap-
pearance in the orchestra, and in ten minutes
the curtain Would rise.

Hilda gave her notice that night, and it was
gladly accepted by the Bolosso Brothers, both
of whom were great friends of Miss St. Clair,
and that lady had done her best to prejudice the
managers against Hilda.

But Mortimer and Miss Amherst were an-
noyed. Both thought a deal of Hilda, and
hated to have her leave.

“ The best of friends must part,” was Hilda’s
remark.

 

CHAPTER XXXII.
HILDA'S LITTLE GAME.

IN just ten days from the one on which the
arrangement was made between the Actress De-
tective and Madam Contimar, Hilda boarded
the Brazilian steamer, all ready for her trip to
the South American land.

Madam Contimar met her on board of the
steamer, according to agreement, and was ex-
tremely affable and sweet.

The lady had secured a pleasant state-room,
and at once carried Hilda off to look at it, and
in the state-room the two sat and converged
until the hoarse cry of “ All ashore!” resounded
throu h the ship.

“ T at reminds me that I must see the steW-'
ad on a little business,” the lady said, rising.
“ I have some accounts to settle with him, which
will probably take me an hour or two. After
the steamer gets under way you can go up on
geek” and enjoy the view as we sail down the

av:

Then Madam Contimar hurried away.

Hilda smiled lacidly and nodded assent as
the lady depa , but she understood the game
as well as though she had had the planning of it.

Madam Contimar was goin ashore and she
had no intention of sailing to razil.

In a few moments the lady opened the state-
room door again in a great hurry.

“ I have to go ashore for a moment, but the ,\

captain tells me I have time, for he will wait a;
few moments for me!” she exclaimed. “Take
my bag; it contains my ‘ewelry and be careful
of it, for it is valuable. f anything should hap—
pen to me on the voyage you must give it to my
dan htor who will meet us at Rio!” And then
the ady hurried away. ,

“ Nicely planned—very nicely planned in.

geodll” Hilda muttered, a sarcastic smile upon
or ips.

“ The bag of valuable jewelry and the daugh-

ter who is to meet me in Rio are ingenious de-

vices to make me think that everythin is all

right when 1 make the diseovory that dam

Contimar is not on board the steamer.

“ The game has been very well played, but
unless I am greatly mistaken I shall be able to
give these tricky plotters a Roland for their
Oliver.”

Again the warning cry “ all ashcro” rose on
the air, and five minutes after, the hawsers hav- ,
ing been cast oil‘, the engine started and the '
steamer headed out into the stream.

Owing to the tide the hour of sailing had been “

fixed at five in the afternoon, so that the shades
of night would begin to lower by the time that.

the steamer passed Sandy Hook and got well out ‘

to sea.
After the steamer passed out into the stream

-Hilda went up on deck. '
A 5 she had expected, the Brazilian lady was“,

not to be found. ‘ .
Tlliis discovery made the Actress Detective

smi e. .. ‘ .
“ I am to go to Brazil alone then,” she mur—‘

mured.

pilotk when he leaves the steamer at Sandy
oo
“Undoubtedly they are too clever calcula-

tors not to have taken this chance into consider-
ation. But, probably, they have argued that.

‘as I have the first month a salary in my pocket.

and Madam Contimur’s valuable jewels in m
{Mom that I will not back out now that”,
a

vs fairly started. And they are right to a _ f;
certain extent.

“ I will not leave the steamer with the ‘ _
so if they have a watch ready for the list-boa
when she returns, the report will be , Idid'

not quit the steamer,” and a quiet smile of satis- ‘7’

faction came over the face of the Actress Detec-
tive as she mused upon the situation.
Sandy Hook was reached, the steamer slack-x

\.

“ But has this party calculated that I ' i.
might take it into my head to return with the '

..;-

speed so that the pilot-boat could come,

f

 

.5.
t‘r‘

 

 

 

:1 , ».
.31

‘28

The pilot descended into the cockleshell craft
which was rowed up to the big ship, waved his
hand in farewell, and away went the ocean
queen on her way to the Southern seas.

After getting well outside of Sandy Hook she
veered around to the south’ard, and ran along
down the coast.

The supper signal sounded.

Hilda made a hearty meal, and when the re-
past was over, darkness had set in.

The Actress Detective Went on deck and sought
an interview with the captain.

All the necessary arrangements had been
made by the chief of police with this official,
so Hilda found that all was smooth sailing.

Off ‘ Ocean Grove, New J ersey’s great coast
resort, the steamer sent up a rocket.

An answwing one came from the deck of a
small sloop, a mile or so away from the Brazil-
ian liner, and right in its course.

Then both vessels headed for each other, and

when the came near, the steamer slackened
s so t as the sloop‘s boat was able to Come
a ongside.

Hilda descended the ladder into the boat fully
as nimbly as the pilot had done.

“ All right!” came in hoarse tones from the
boatman, as he stooped to his cars.

0n went the steamer again, but minus the
Actress Detective.

 

CHAPTER XXXIII.
MORE PLO’I‘TXNG.

AGAIN the Gilded Widow and the crafty
En lishman, Brakespear, sat in consultation,
an this time the meeting took lace in the
house in the rear of Alberta Darlington’s resi-
dence, which had been secured so the conspirm
tors could meet without danger of attracting
the attention of police spies.

It was some ten days after thersailing of the
steamer upon which the Actress Detective had
taken passage.

“ Well, how goes the game?” the Gilded
W'iclow asked.

“Splendidly!”the broker replied. “I have
succeeded in making the acquaintance of Mor-
timer, and by playing my cards well have got
on exceedingly intimate terms with him. I am
posing as the soft-headed man of business who
takes a great interest in the drama, and has a
sneaking suspicion that he would be a great
actor himself if he could only get the chance.”

" Ah, yes, I see.”

“ Of course I have professed to be a great ad-
mirer of this gentleman, and as I have taken
particular pains to stand well with him, he is
inclined to be extremely friendly with me.”

“ Under the circumstances it ought not to be
adiflicult task for' you to win his confidence,
particularly if you took ins to tell him what
a great man you consi ered him to be,” the

iv-Gilded Widow remarked, sneeriugly.

“ Well, now, you are wrcn r about that,” the
other remarked. “ If I had p ayed the game in
that way I sliould not have made my paint, for
he is not that sort of man at all.”

“Not egotistical and vain like the majority
of his class?”

“ No, singularly unassuming and modest.
Very much of a gentleman, in fact, and I am
sorry that he stands in our way so that we are
obli ed to crush him.”

“ es, that is one of the evils of this world.”

Mrs. Darlington observed, thoughtfully. “ We
humans are like the birds, beasts an reptiles—-
always at war with each other. be strong

prey upon the weak, and little mercy is there
for anybody.”

“ Yes, it is the course of nature, and when the
thin veneer of civilization is stripped off the sav-
age barbarian is revealed beneath.”

“A truce to moralizing!” the Gilded Widow
exclaimed. “ We are pla ing a game for a prize

. of a million of dollars an we cannot afford to
look with disfavor upon any plans by means of
which we can win.”

“ True. To resume my account then: I am

,altisfied that I have succeeded in gaining the
confidence of the actor and when the time comes
I shall not have an difficulty in getting him to
take a little trip w th me.”

“ That is good, and I congratulate you upon
your success.”

“ Well how did you make out?” ‘

I “ Oh, was fully as successful in my task as
you was in yours,’ Mrs. Darlington replied.

“ If you succeeded I on ht not to have been
less lucky for my task Was iy far the easier of
the two, for while you were dealing with an ex-
perienced man of the world I had only a weak,
unsuspecting girl to hoodwink.”

' “Yes. that is true.”

“ And in order to fully gain her confidence I
went to live at her boarding-house, represent-

‘ ing that I was a widow from the South who had

, come to New York to look after some property
in which I was interested.” '

“ That was a story calculated to disarm sus-

:~. _‘ picion,” Brakespear remarked.

I ' “ Yes, the truth of the tale was notdoubted by
any one. I did not represent that I was wealthy
but only comfortably well on; if I succeeded
flangh in gaining the preperty, which some un-

The Actress Detective. ‘

principled relatives of my late husband were try-
ing to keep from me, I would be quite rich.”

“ Such a tale would be likely to create, sym—
patliy."

“ es, it did, and as I was so frank and un-
reserved iii my statement, no one had any sus-
picion that I was anything but what i repre-
sented myself to be.

“ The girl lieiself took a lively interest in m
story, and was anxious that i should succeed. t
did not take me long to get on the most intimate
terms with her, and being a simple, unsuspect-
ing creature she made a confidante of me. Not
that she had much to confide, for her life had
been a plain and uneVeutfnl one, the episode of
the uncle who had so unexpectedly returned
from California, and unexpectedly disappeared
when his Coachman came in contact with the
police, being the only hit of romance in her life.”

“ And I suppose she was greatly puzzled by
the circumstance?”

“Yes, she did not know what to make of it,
and her friends in the boarding-house to whom
she had confinded all the particulars of the
affair were equally at a loss to explain the mat-
ter.”

“ I do not wonder at that, for the affair
was certainly mysterious enough.”

“The conclusion to which they arrived, after
much deliberation, was that the man was her
uncle all riglht, but he had got in with evil asso-
ciates, and is story of having acquired wealth
in California was not true; if he had any money
it had been gained by criminal practices, and the
arrest of his eoachman had caused him to seek
safety in flight for fear of being hauled before
the bar of justice.”

“ A natural conclusion,” Brakespear com-
mented. “ But the girl and her friends must
have been puzzled as to the reason why he
should take the trouble to hunt her up.”

" Yes, they were, and it was the mpression
that no good motive urged him on.”

“ Under the circumstanccs it was not strange
that such an inference should be drawn.”

“ It was a bad business from beginning to
end!” Mrs. Darlington declared with a shake of
the head. “ And when I look back upon the
affair it seems so strange to me that the two at.
tern ts should have failed so utterly.”

“ ell, I am not inclined to be superstitious,
but it seems to me that this actress Hilda
Serene, as she calls herself, was a sort of an evil
genius to us.”

“It certainly does look that way,” the Gild-
ed Widow assorted. “ She interfered in the
Mortimer affair, and then again when the
girl was safely in the snare.”

“ Yes, and it was very strange indeed that
circumstances should have rendered it possible
for her to have interfered in both matters."

“‘ It is the unexpected that always happens,’
you know,” Mrs. Darlington replied. “That
is a very old saying, and an extremely true one.
I am like you in regard to not being troubled
much by superstition, but as far as this youn
actress is concerned she certainly seemed fat
to interfere in our lans.”

“ She is out of t e way now though,” Brake—
spear observed in accents of satisfaction.

“ Yes, and if you have observed, everything
has one Well ever since she departed.”

" ery true: by the way, I had neglected to
mention it, but the shadows who have been
keeping watch upon me have been withdrawn,”
the broker remarked. “ It is twelve or fifteen
days now since I have been able to detect that
any one was playing the spy upon me.”

“ And I have the same report to make,” Mrs.
Darlington observed.

“ And what inference do you gather from the
circumstance?”

I “That the men who put the watch uponus
have become satisfied t at they were on the
wron scent.”

“ ou do not think that the spies have been
withdrawn in order to lull us into a false sense
of security?" Brakespear asked, thoughtful] .

The woman gave a start of surprise; her face
became grave and she reflected upon the matter
for a few moments before she made a reply.

“ No, I do not think so,” she replied at last.
“ What put the idea into your head! Have you
anything to go upon?”

“Oh, no, not a thing; it is but a bare sus-
picion on in rt.”

Mrs. Darlington’s face brightened.

“ You take a weight off in mind. Upon my
word! you frightened me or a moment!” she
declared.

“ You know that I am of an extremely sus-
picious nature and am apt to think, ‘ each bush
an officer,’ ” Brakespear remarked.

“ Oh, you are altogether wrong. to my think-
ing!” the Gilded Widow declared. “It was a
blunder on the part of the police authorities to
put a watch on us, but, in their bewilderment,
not knowing which way to turn they struck out
at random, as it were, anxious to find some clew
to the mystery. By means of the real estate
transaction, we were brought to their notice
and some wiseacre Jack-iu-omce sugges
that. a watch should be placed upon us, in or-
‘ der taxes if we could be detected in any crooked

wor .
“ Yes, I think your judgment is correct,”

 

 

Brakespear replied, in a reflective way. “ Most
surely there was not any reason why any sus-
picion should attach to us.”

“Certainly not! It was, as
blind groping in the dark, but- as it did not pro-
duce any result, we can afford to laugh at the
affair, particularly as everything promises fair
for the future.”

“Yes, and as the actress is gone there is no
danger of her suddenly appearing to confound
our schemes like the good fairy in the panto-
mime.”

“ That is true, and I am ready to admit that
her departure takes a weight (if my mind,
and since she has been gone, fortune seems to
favor us; you have succeeded in getting on good
terms with the young actor, while the girl
looks upon me in the light of a bosom friend,
and then a rare piece of luck happened to me
day before yesterday.”

" In connection with our schemes?”

“Yes; listen and 'on will see how intimate
is the connection. was stopping in one of
the Broadway stores tw0 days ago when a
young lady left her handkerchief on the coun-
ter by my side. I picked it up and called to
her: a card dropped out as I did so.

“Naturally I mad the inscription upon the
card. It was Agatha CauldWell, music-teacher;
and then, as the girl came toward me to get
the articles, I had a good view of her. There
was something about her face which seemed
familiar to me. She was above the medium
height, finely formed, but not pretty, for her
face was rather coarse, and her complexion
dark and ugl . She was very well-spoken,
though, and t anked me in the most amiable
manner for troubling mysclf about the hand-
kerchief.

“The name, Agatha Cauldwell, impressed
me, then, too, as the likeness to some one whom I
had once seen, but for the moment I was not
able to recall the particulars. I seized upon the
opportunity to get into conversation with her,
for the thought came to me that it was possible
that in this strange way fate had thrown in my
path one of the Cauldwell heirs. If you re-
member the name of the elder sister, the mo
ther of this actor, Mortimer, it was Agatha.”

“ Yes, I remember; all the details of the affair
are firm] fixed in my mind.”

“ I to the young lady that I had taken'the
liberty of glancing at her card, and was lad
that I ha done so, for I once knew 11 ad
named Cauldwell, who was a very dear frien ,
and I had acuriosity to know if she was any
relation to her, for I fancied I could discern a
likeness in her face to the features of my old-
time friend, and then I added that her name
was Martha.”

“ And this girl was Martha’s child!” Brake-
spear exclaimed, jumping at once to the con-
clusion. .

“ Yes, you are correct. She immediately an-
swered me that Martha was her mother’s
name, and then I soon ascortained that she was
indeed the one whom I supposed her to be,
thenorily heir of George and Martha Cauld-
we . r ,

“ It was indeed a. lucky meeting!”

“ I pretended to be overjoyed, of course, and
insisted upon the girl’s coming to take lunch
with me, and during the repast I had no dim-
cul in learning all I wished to know.

“ artha Cauldwell had had three children,
but she, the eldest girl, was the on] one living;
both father and mother were also end.

“ She had been brought up in San Francisco
and educated for a music-teacher, but as she had
a hard time to get along, she had come to New
York; her main reason or coming to this city
being that she expected to find her uncle, Nathan
Throckmorton, hex-9.”:

“ Ahal
such a relative?” _

“ Yes, and has no suspicion that he is dead.
It seems that a ,few years ago, Nathan wrote to
this sister, Agatha’s mother; told her that he
was a Wealthy man, and if she ever needed any
assistance to ap 1y to him. The letter was writ-
ten in New Yor —Tbrookmorton was'evidently
on a business tr' here at the time, and the
Cauldwells fell in o the error of imagining that
his home was here.”

“That was natural under the circumstances.
The irl then came to the city in search of her
Wealt y relative?”

“Yes, and was very much amazed that she
was not able to find any trace of him consider-
ably put about too by the fact, for s 8 had not
much mom with her when she came, and al-
though she had advertised and tried in the
most diligent manner possible to get pupils yet
she had not succeeded in getting a single one.

“ No easy matter for a stranger to Come to a
big city like New York, where ever avenue is
crowded, and secure an occupation mmediate—
ly,” the gentleman remarked.

” The l confided all these particulars to me
without t e slightest reservation; a more frank
and open-hearted creature I don’t think I ever
encountered, and yet there is somethin about
her—a latent power, as it were, whic cmps
out every now and then, which makes me think
that she would be a dangerous enemy if fairly
roused into action.” .

\ ,
| . 1

I have said, a"

This girl, then, is award that she has '

 

 

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a

' the butler an

' should come down.

The Actress Detective.

29

 

r

 

 

Brakespear had been deep in meditation while
Mrs. Darlington was speaking, and now, rous-
ing himself from his distraction, said: .

“ It seems to me as if we control every paint
in the game now.”

“ I think we do.”

“ The three known heirs are so We can get at
them: a single bold stroke and we remove all
obstacles which intervene between you and this
c010<sal fortune.” _

“ Yes, that statement is correct.”

“ And it seems to me that the quicker we
strike the blow the better.” .

“ True! we cannot gain anything by delaying
the stroke.” _ . . . .

“That is my idea, and, in anticipation, l
have got everything in readiness, thinking the
time would soon come when action must be
taken.”

“ It was a wise precaution.”

“ On the east bank of the Hudson a little way
above Yonkers there is an old house which the
Brotherhood of the InviSible Hand have used as
a headquarters for a. year t. It is in an
isolated situation and being easily approached
from the river has made an excellent rendezvous
for us.

“ Now, my idea is to decoy these heirs to this
old house, and there, at one fell swoop, settle
their earthly accounts.”

“ Yes, it must be done i” the woman declared,
in a low, deep voice, after meditating over the
matter for a few moments.

“ If there were any other way by means of
which the property could be secured,” she con-
tinued, “I would not advocate taking any such
desperate stepasthis, but as far as I can see
there is none.”

“ None,” he replied, with a solemn shake of
the head.

" We must embark in this scheme then.”

“Yes, I will decoy Mortimer to the old house.
He is fond of sport and I have told him what
splendid fishing there is at my place up on the
river, and he has agreed to go with me some
night after the rformance is over, stop at my
house, so as to on the fishing-grounds early
in the morning.”

“ And while he sleeps the deed will be done?”
Mrs. Darlington observed, in low, constrained

tones.

“ Yes and then we can give the body to the
river. can manage the matter so that no sus-
picion will attach itself to me.”

“And I will manage to decoy the two girls
there on the same night, only earlier in the even-
ing, so that their fate can be settled before Mor-
‘timer arrives.” I

“ We must select some night when the ebb—
tide begins to run‘, about ten o’clock,” Brake-
spear remarked. ‘ In two of the rooms there
are trap-doors beneath which are the waters of
the river so that the bodies can be easily dis-

of, and if they are shot into the tide about
midni ht they will be carried down the stream
so farfiiy morning that no one will be able to da
cide that they came from above the city,” .

The scheme will work and the great prize
will be easily won 1” the Gilded Widow declared,
exultantly. _ - .

It was a dark plot indeed.

 

. I

CHAPTER XXXIV.
In ran NIGHT.

* Ir was not a diflicult matter for do arch
schemer like Mrs. Darlington to entrap two

oung and innocwt girls, neither one of whom
had any suspicion that she was an thing but
what she ought to be, yet the Gilded idow had
to proceed cautiously, for the matter must be so
arranged that after the girls’ disappearance no
one would be able to connect her in any way
with the affair. '

With Agatha Cauldwell, a stranger in .the
city, without friends, the task was comparative-

ly an easy one.

' - She told her that a friend of hers, who lived

rt'of the city, wished to see her in
riggéugowrmpmicx lessons, and would send her
coupe to carry her to the house.

The Californian at once Jumped at the chance,
and ati kart: o‘clock on a certain evening de—
" Ned n e carnage,
paTbe P18“ 0! Operations by which Agatha
CauldWell was to be nude 3 victlm was ex-
tremely simple. I

On arriVln at the house she was to be met by
800"“ to the rlor.

She "as to be asked to be seated until the lady

. Upon the table was a tiny
decanter of wine and some sweet “kc.-

- The butler was to fill out a with fun of

‘ the wine, and invite the young-Indy to refresh

herself while she wanted. .

If the girl drank her fate was sealed for the
wine was drugged, and the moment she became
insensible, down through the trap-door into the
waters below she was to. be hurled. '

With Katherine a different plan wu to b.

“Mrs. bulington, in her assumed character of
the Southern widow, pretended that she had re
ceived , lovaietter from some unknown ad-

 mirer, who craved the privilege of making her

. sips,

‘ Gilded

 

acquaintance, and gave as a meeting-place a
certain street in Harlem.

She pretended to be indignant at the impu—
dence of the proposal, but said she was curious
to see what the fellow was like, and asked
Katherine to go with her, not intending to keep
the appointment, but to survey the man from a
distance.

Of course she bound the girl to strict secrecy,
and arranged the matter so that she and Kathe-
rine did not leave the house together, but met
at the Elevated Railroad Station.

At Harlem, at the appointed place, no man at
all answering to the description was to be seen,
and then Mrs. Darlington suddenly remembered
that there was a very dear friend of hers living
on 155th street, and she asked Katherine to
make a call with her.

There was a carriage at hand, the same coupe
which had conveyed Miss Cauldwell to the old
house, and the supposed Southern widow made
a bargain with the coachman.

In the two got, and away they drove, halting
at last at the old house.

The butler was to receive them, as his mis-
tress was up-stairs, and press them to seated,
and take some refreshment, while be summoned
the lady.

Mrs. Darlin ton was to press the drugged
wine upon Kat erine, and then, when the 11 nor
had done its work, down through the tra oor
she was to go, to an awful death in the waters
beneath.

But when this scheme came to be carried out,
there was a slight bitch in it.

The butler was abSeut, but as the door was
ajar Mrs. Darlington pushed it open, saying:

“ 9 will lay a surprise-party on my friend,
and astonish er.”

It was the Gilded Widow’s thought that the
confederate, who acted the butler‘s part, had
not been on the watch, and so had not noticed
the approach of the, coach.

When she got to the parlor, finding that the
man was not there, she became a little anxious,
but as there was a wine- lass, with the drags of
wine still in it, on the ta 1e, showing that some
one had lately drank from it, she calculated
that all had gone on as arranged, and that the
confederate had gone down-stairs, to make sure
that the water was in the cellar, for there were
tide-gates, by means of which it could be shut
out.

Under these circumstances she resolved to
press Katharine to take a glass of wine.

“ Everybody is up-stairs. I guess,” she re-
marked. “ So much the better, for the surprise
will be greater,” and she laughed, merrily.
“ Come! let us have a, glass of wine and a cake,
Katherine, and then we will have a good joke
on my friend, for I will tell her that we could
have carried off the whole house and no one
would have been the wiser.”

The girl lau bed, for it appeared to her as if
it was an exce lent jest to walk into an one’s
house and take complete possession of it in this
way, and she accede the wine that Mrs. Dar-
lington offered her without the slightest hesita-
tion, and then they both sat on the sofa and
sipped the wine, nibbling cakes between the
d k But Mrs. Darlington only pretended to

no .

“ Now this is what I call real comfortable,”
the Gilded Widow observed, inwardly wonder-
ing though as she spoke as to what detained the
confederate who acted as the butler.

“ Yes, it is very nice, but isn’t this wine
strong)? Katherine had drank about half her
glass y this time.

“Strong? Oh, no, I do not think that it is
strong: it is real mild and delightful i”

“ Oh, my, it has gone to my head and is mak-
ing me so sleepy,” the girl murmured, half clos-
ing her eyes.

The drug was beginning to take effect.

The Gilded Widow hastened to take the wine-
glass from Katherine’s nerveless hand. i

The irl was sitting near the head of the sofa,
and as er senses began to leave her. Mrs. Dar-
lin’on arcse and guided Katherine's head so
that it rested upon the sofa pillow.

“ There is number two out of the way, and if
we do not have any more trouble with number
three we may consider ourselves lucky !” she ex-
lclaimed, as she gamed in triumph upon the help-

eas gir .
A 81 ht noise like a faint sigh attracted the
Gilded idow’s attention.

She turned and to her amazement saw the
girl who had called herself Agatha Cauldwell,
standing in the doorway.

The face of the girl was so lacid and marble-
like that at first it was Mrs. arlington’s belief
that some mistake had been made in the execu-
tion of the lan. and the girl was walking in
her sleep—t e slee produced by the drug ad-
ministered in the w no.

“ What is the matter, Agatha?” she asked,
advancing toward her. »

“ Nothing is the matter, so far as I know,”
the girl replied. “ Everything is all right, al-
though your little gamo is not working exactly
as an intended.”

be h almost took the breath of the
idow away: it wasas if a vail 'had

suddenly been taken away from before her eyes.

 

“ What does this mean?” she cried, in hoarse
accents.

“ Can you not guess?" and the girl lau bed
contemptuoust as she put the question. “ 'ou,
who are so extremely clever in plotting, should
be equally clever in detecting that your schemes
are not working the way they should.”

“ You miserable wretch! you are are a police
spy in disguise!” cried Mrs. Darlington, in a
perfect frenzy of rage.

“ Yes, that is true enough, and I am not on
my way to Brazil, either!”

The Gilded Widow gave a great gasp, rage
and mortification combined.

“ You laid an extremely cunningly-arranged
trap for me, but it did not work. laid one for
you, and it has succeeded admirably.”

“ You devil l” the Gilded Widow hissed, and.
from her pocket she plucked forth a revolver,
but Hilda Serene, for the supposed Agatha.
Cauldwell was the Actress Detective, was on the
watch for just such a movement.

With the quickness of a tiger she sprung for—
ward, grasped Mrs. Darlington by the wrist,
and with a single twist of her muscular arm
disarmed her prisoner, the Gilded “'idow being
as helpless in that grasp of iron as a rat in the-
jaws of a terrier.

Then, before the other could recover from the
shock of the attack, Hilda took a pair of hand-
cuffs from her pocket and snapped them upon.
the wrists of Mrs. Darlingtonn

“ There, now, you are all right!” the Actress
Detective exclaimed. “You are not able to do
any damage either to yourself or anvbod else,”
andasshe spoke she forced the Gilded idow
back and seated her on the sofa by the side
of the drugged girl. I

“ Oh, you devill I Will have your life for
this!” the infuriated woman cried.

“ Softly softly! spare your breath: threaten-
ed ple live long, you know,” Hilda re lied.
“ hen, too, you must remember that it wil pro:
bany be some time before you will be able to do
any damage to anybody, for I think I have got
such a clear case against you this time that you
will be sure to go to Sing Sing for a good term
of cars.”

he breath of the' entrapped woman came
thick and hard.

“ What can you prove against me?” she cried,
defiantly.

“ Attempted murder? You sought my life,
the butler tried to persuade me to drink a glass
of wine, but 1 rec ized the man in an instant;
it was Finn; again fate bad ordained that I was
to baffle his work. I made him a prisoner and
have talked so forcibl to him that he has half—
a—mind to turn State vidence, but as he would
not tell me all I wanted to L'nOw, I put him to
the torture until he yielded, so I know the game
which was to be played here tonight as well as
you do. You wished to kill me because you
thought I was a Cauldwell; who, as well as this
girl and Mortimer, are the heirs of the Texas
millionaire, Nathan Smith Throckmorton. I
had the chief of police send to Texas and get the
information.”

“ What is it to me?” the Gilded Widow cried.

“ You are a Throckmorton also. The cable
has put us in possession of our English record
and your conspiracy is laid hare.” '

Mrs. Darlington now took refuge in sullen
silence; Hilda did not trouble ker. but commu-
nicated with thepolice without, who were in am-
bush around the building, and preparations
were made so that Brakespear was made a pris-
oner without resistance when he came with the
actor Mortimer about midnight.

The astonishment of the broker was great and
at first he indignantly demanded to know why
such an outrage should be committed, but when
confronted with the Actress Detective and her ’
prisoner, Mrs. Darlington, he, as the woman had
done, took refuge in moody silence.

The prisoners were put in a carriage which

started for Police Headquarters, but on the way ' V

both of them managed to swallow poison, and.
when they arrived in Mulberry street were-
senseless. _

The policesurgeons tried restoratives, but all
in vain, and after due process of ldw had been
gone through the bodies were surrendered to
their friends.

Our tale is told.

The actor and the shop-girl inherited the for- ,
tunes which the 'piottcrs had tried so hard to,
gain. '

But Hilda kept in the background, and no“
but a few prominent omcials knew who had
hunted down the conspirators.

She had achieved her wish; she was now one
of the secret police, and \there was work ahead,

too, for the Brothers of the Invisible Hand were _ ‘

not yet exterminated.
m Inn.

 

 

 

 

’43? ‘

, 177 Don Diablo, the Plan

 18 The Phanto
 Chapsrrals. By Ms rDangerfleld

Beadle’s Dime Library.

 

 

240 The Three Spaniards. By Geo. Walker.

141 Equinox Tom. the Bully of Bed Rock; or, Dan
Brown’s Masterstroke. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

143 Captain Crimson. the Man of the Iron Face; or
The Nemesis of the Plains. By Maj. Dangerfield

143 The Czar’s Spy; or. The Nihilist League. By
Col. T. H. Monstery.

144 The Hunchback {of NotreIDame.
Hugo.

145 Pistol Pards: or. Soft Hand. the Silent Sport
from Cinnabar. By Wm. B. Eyster.

148 The Doctor Detective; or. The Mystery of the
Golden Coffin. By George Lemuel.

147 Gold Spur, the Gentleman from Texas; or, The
Child of thezBegiment. By Colonel Prentiss
Ingraham.

148 One-Armed. Alf, the Giant Hunter of the Great
Lakes By 011 Coomes.

149 The Border Rifles. By Gustave Almard.

150 El Ruble Bravo, King of the Swordsmen; or,
The Terrible Brothers of Tabasco. By Col.
Thomas Hoyer Monstery.

151 The Freebooters. By Gustave Aimard.

[52 Captain Ironnerve, the Counterfeiter Chief ' or.
The Gypsy Queen‘s Legacy. By Marmaduke
Fey.

15') The White Scalper. By Gustave Aimard.

154 Joaquin, the Saddle King. By Jos. E. Badger.

155 The Corsair Queen; or. The Gypsies of the Sea.
By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

156 Velvet Face, the Border Bravo; or Muriel, the
Danite's Bride. By Maj. Dangerfield Burr.

157 Mourad, the Mameluke; or. The Three Sword-
masters. By 001. Thomas H. Monstery.

1168 The Doomed Dozen; or, Dolores, the Danite‘s
Daughter. By Dr. Frank Powell.

‘ 159 Red Rudiger. the Archer' or, The Lady Bertha‘s
Treachery. By Capt. F. Whittaker.

"D Soft Hand Sharp; or, The Man With the Sand.
By Wm. B. Eyster.

I The Wolves of New Monk; or. Joe Phenix‘s
Great Man Hunt. By A. W. Aiken.

102 The Mad Mariner; or, Dishonored and Disowned.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

163 Ben Brion, the Trapper Ca. tain: or, Redpath,
the Avenger. By Dr. J. H. obinson.

164 The Kin ’s Fool' or The Kinghts of the Clasped
Hands agnd Red Brahch. By C. D. Clark.

165 Joaquin, the Terrible. By J. E. Badger, Jr.

166 Owlet, the Robber Prince; or The Unknown
Highwaymen. By Septimus R. Urban.

167? The Man of Steel; or, The Masked Knight of the
White Plume. By A. P. Morris.

By Victor

’ 168 Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot' or, Dagger Don’s

Double. By Colonel Prentiss lngraham.

109 Corporal Cannon. the Man ci' Forty Duels. By
Colonel Thomas Hoyer Monstery.

I 170 Sweet William, the Trapper Detective; or. The

Chief of the Crimson Clan. By Joseph E.
Badger, Jr.

171 Tiger Dick. the Man of the Iron Heart; or, The
Dumb Bandit. By Philip S. Warne.

172 The Black Pirate; or. The Mystery of the Golden
Fetters. By Colonel P. Ingraham.

--  - 173 California John, the Pacific Thoroughbred. By
" Albert W. Aiken.

K  174 The Phantom Knights. By Capt. r. Whittaker.
[I was Bill‘s'l‘ruuwCardz or. Mindanao-ass.
, By Major Danger-add Bur.

' llLsd J 8.1' the Robber een. Ca tain
anti “fin: 0" B’ "

ter-Corsair; or, The Rivals
- of the Sea. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

' 7 in Dark Dashwood, the Desperate' or, The Child of

the Sun. By Major Sam S. Hall

. 1711 Conrad, the Convict; or, WasDHe Guilty? By

Prod. Stewart Gildersieeve, LL. .

. Badger, Jr.

‘ .181 The Scarlet Schooner; or, The Nemesis of the
._ , m

89.. By Col. Prentiss Ingraha

7i02HandsU :or TheKn htsoftheCan n. B
r ‘ Wm.R.£ystei-. ‘8 yo y

18% Gilbert. the Guide; or, Lost in the Wilderness.
By C. Dunning Clark.

a 184 The Ocean Vsm ire; or, The Heiress of Castle
Curse. B Ingrshun.

y Col. ntiss

1 185 The Man Spidemr, The Beautiful Sphinx. By

Anthony P. Mo

 an The Black Bravo; or, The Tonkaway‘s Triumph.

By Buckskin Sam

 m The Death‘s Head Cuirassiers; or, Brave of All
r.

‘ Brews. By Capt. Fred. Whittske

m Maze pa;or.TheH ofthe

"0

fl Wild Bill’s Gold Trail; or. The Desperad Dozen.
 .. By Col. Prentiss Ingrsham. 1 °

191 The Terrible Tonkawa ; or, Old Rocky and His
Pards. By Buckskin am.

192 The Lightning Sport- or. The Bad Man at Slaugh-
ter Bar. By W. R. yster.

193 The Man in Red; or, The Ghost of the Old Guard.
By Capt. F. Whittaker.

194 Don Sombrero, the California Road Gent; or,
 Three Men of Mount Tabor. By Capt. Mark
' ton.

195 The Lone Star Gambler; or, The Maid of the
Magnolias. By Buckskin Sam.

196 La Marmoset, the Detective Queen; or, The Lost
Heir oi' Morel. By Albert W. Aiken.

197 Revolver Rob. the Red-Handed; or, The Belle of
Nugget Camp. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

198 The Skeleton Schooner or. The Skimmer of the
Sea By Col. Prentiss fugraham.

211‘" Diamond Dick, the Dandy from Denver.
Buckskin Sam.

200 The Ride Rangers' or. Adventures in Southern
Mexico. By Capt. .layne Reid.

201 The Pirate of the Piacers; or,Joaquin‘s Death
Hunt. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

202 Cactus Jack. the Giant Guide: or, The-Masked
Robbers of Black Bend. By Capt. Mark Wilton.

203 The Double Detective: or, The Midnight Mys-
tery. By Albert W. Aiken.

204 Big-Foot. Wallace, the Kin of the Lariat: or,
Wild \Voll'I the Waco. By uckskin Sam.

20!! The Gambler Pirate; or. Bessie, the Lady of the
Lagoon. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

206 One Eye, the Cannoneer; or. Marshal Ney’s Last
Legacy. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

207 Old Hard Head; or, Whirlwind and His Milk-
White Mare. By Philip S. Warne.

208 The White Ch. of. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

209 Buck Farley. the Bonanza Prince; or. The Ro-
mance of Death Gulch. By Edward Willett.

210 Buccaneer Bess. the Lioness of the Sea; 01‘, The
Red Sea Trail. By Col. P. Ingraham.

211 Colonel Plunger: or. The Unknown Sport. By
Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

212 The Brazos Tigers: or, The Minute-Men of
Fort Belknap. By Buckskin Sam.

213 The War Trail; or, The Hunt of the Wild Horse.
By Capt. Mayne Reid.

214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch.
By Wm. B. Eyster.

215 Parson Jim King of the Cowboys;
Gentle She ht-rd's Big “Clean-Out. ’
Frederick hittaker.

216 The Corsair Planter; or, Driven to Doom. By
Col. Prentiss lngraham.

217 The Ser nt of El Paso; or Frontier Frank, the
Scout 0 the Rio Grande. y Buckskin Sam.

218 The Wild Huntress; or. The Big Squatter’s Ven-
geance. By Capt. Maynefieid. ‘

219 The Sco
By Cap

220 The S
Col.

221D

By

or, The
By Capt.

ion Brothers; or, Mad Tom’s Minion.
n Mark Wilton. '
3!

ter Yacht; or, A Brother's Crime.
. ingrnham.
erate Duke, the Guada'loupe “ Gdloot.” By
Buc in Sam.
222 Bill, the Blizzard' or. Red Jacket’s Double

Crime. By Edward Willei t.

2% Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain' or,
Twhfigoughs of Silver Spur. By Captain ark
n.

94 Black Board, the Buccaneer; or, The Curse of
the Coast. By 001. P. lngraham.

‘ Rocky Mountain Al; or, Nug et Nell the Wall
of the Range. By Buckskinglam.‘ ' .

9% The Mad Hussars; or. The 0's and the Mac‘s.
By Capt. F. Whittaker.

927 Buckshot Ben. the Man-Hunter of Idaho' or,
. The Cactus Creek Tragedy. By Capt. Mark
Wilton.
as The Maroon. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

y m.

230 The Flying‘ Dutchman of 18C); or, Who was
Vandendec en. By Capt. Whittaker.

231 The Kid Glove Miner" or, The Magic Doctor at
Golden Gulch. By 061. P. Ingrahsm.

239 Orson On. t‘ze Man of Iron; or, The River My»
tery. By lsaao Hawks.

88 The Old Boy
. LifeonaCard.

84 The Hunters‘ Feast. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

2815 Red htn the Man of Chance; or Flush
Times Go on Gulch; By Colonel Prentiss
Ingrsham.

9w Cham ion Sam; or The Monarchsof theSh .
ByCo T. a. Monster-y. 0'

2871.0 Haired‘Max- or The BlackLeagne ot the
Cot-ft. By Capt. it. Wilton.

938 Hank Hound the Crescent City Detective; or.
The Owls of New Orleans. By A. P. MOI-rid.

of Tombstone' or. W or! a
ByJ. E. Battier. Jr. ‘8 n“

 

noTheTeu-morr’io- or'The of th .
By?” 1 a.  0 Army

\ .

    

229 Captain Cutsleeve; or, Touch-Me-Not, the Little
Sport. B W R. Enter. «

 

240 A 0001 Head; or, Orson Oxx in Peril. By Isaac
Hawks.

241 Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers: or, con
Dixie's Grand "Round-Up.” By Josep E.
Badger, Jr.

212 The Fog Devil; or. The Skipper of the Flash.
By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

213 The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier‘s Sweetheart.
By Buffalo Bill.

244 Merciless Mart, the Man-Tiger of Missouri (or,
The Wait of the Flood. By “Buckskin Sam.’
Maj. Sam S. Hall.

245 Barranca Bill. the Revolver Champion; or. The
Witch of the Weeping Willows. By Captain
Mark Wilton.

ueen Helen. the Amazon of the Overland: or,

he Ghouls of the Gold Mines. By Col. Prentiss
Ingraham.

247 Alligator lke: or The Secret of the Everglade.
By Capt. Fred Whittaker.

248 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp.
1‘" Edward Willem.

2A9 Ele hant Tom, of Durango; Or, for." Gold Dust
or our Life. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

250 The Rough Riders; or. Sharp-Eye, the Seminole
Scourge. By Buckskin Sam.

251 Tiger Dick vs. Iron Dresrpard: or, Every Man Has
His Match. By P. S. ame.

252 The Wall Street Blood; or. Tick, Tick, the Tele:
graph Girl. By Albert W. Aiken.

253 A Yankee Cossack; or, The Queen of the Nihil-
ists. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.
By

254 Giant Jake, the Patrol of the Mountain.
Newton M. Curtis.

255 The Pirate Priest; or. The Planter Gambler's
Daughter. By Col. P. Ingraham.

256 Double Dan. the Bastard; or, The Pirates of the

Pecos. By Buckskin Sam.

257 Death-Trap Diggings; or. A Hard Man from
’Way Back. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo; or, The Pris-
(‘i‘nelrs of the Death Vault. By Captain Mark
'1 ton.

259 Cutlass and Cross; or, The Ghouls of the Sex
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

246

260 The Masked Mystery; or, The Black Crescent. ,

By A. P. Morris.

261 Black Sam. the Prairie Thunderbolt; or, The
Bandit-Hunters. By Col. Jo Yards.

282 Fighting Tom. the Terror of the Toughs.
001. Thomas Hoyer Monstery. \

203 iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destro er: or,
The Black Riders’ Terror. Capt. Mark ilton.

264 The Crooked Three' or The Black Hearts of
the Guadalupe. By Buckskin Sam. 4

$5 Old Double-Sword; or. Pilots and Pirates. By
Captain Frederick Whittaker.

ass Leopard Luke, the King of Horse-Thieves; or,
"Ieiitlawaamp Squatter‘s Doom. By Capt. Mark
n.

B!

267 The White Squaw. By Cap. Mayne Reid.

%8 Magic Mike, the Man _of Frills; or, Bad Ben'l
Bat Brigade. By Wilham R. Eyster.

239 The Bayou Bravo: or, The Terrible
Buckskin Sam. '

270 Andros, the Free Rover; or,
Daughter. By Ned Buntline.

271 Stoneflst of Big N 1: Bend; or Old Ket-
chum's Tug of War. y Capt. Mark 'Wilton.

272 Seth Slocum, Railroad Surveyor or The Secret
or Sitting Bull. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

278 Mountain Mose. the Gorge Outlaw; or, Light
Horse Leon’s Five Fights for Life. By Buck-
skin Sam.

274 Flush Fred the Missiasi 1 Sport' or Tough
Times in Tehnessee. By Eward W'illet’t.

975 The Smn ler Cutter; or, The Cavern in the
Cliff. By .D. Conroy.

276 Texas Chick, the Southwest Detective; or.
Tiger Lily. The Vulture Queen. By Captain
Mark Wilton. ‘

277 Th Saucy Jane Privateer: or, The Hunting of
01 Ironsides. By Capt. Fred Whittaker.

978 Hercules Golds ur. the Man of the Velvet Hand:
or, The Poker een's DrOp Game. By Captain
Howard Holmes.

979 The Gold Dr on; 0r. The Cantos-Ina Blood-
hound. By W m H. Manning.

no Black-Hoes Ben; or, Tiger Dick's Lou Hand.
By Philip S. Warne.

an TheSeanl; or.TheLad Captain otthanlt.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingrs am.

3 The Merciless Marauders: or, Chap-1'4 (hr?!
Revenge. By Buckskin Sam. !

$3 Sleek Sam. the Devil of the Mines- or The Sons
oftheF‘ieryCroas. By.‘ios.E.Badg<eI3 J

as: The Three t ; or, on lronlidss' smut.
By Capt. Fwwgfittaker. .

985 Lightning Bolt, the Can
Mountain Cat’s Grudge.

8 Pistol Johnny; or. OneManinsm
Josephll. Badger J

Trail.By

on Terror; 0!. The
yOapt. mwnton.

n,

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Beadle’s Dime Library.

  

 

ri j

as: Dandy Dave. and His Horse. White Stocking;
or. Ducats or Death. By Buckskin Sam.

as Electro Pete. the Man of Fire; or. The Wharf
Rats of Locust Point. By A. P. Morris.

:89 Flush Fred‘s Full Hand: or, Life and Strife in
Louisiana. By Edward Willett.

390 The Lost Corvette: or, Blakeley‘s Last Cruise.
By Capt. Fred. Whittaker-

291 Horseshoe Hank, the Man of Big Luck; or, The
Gold Brick of Idaho. By Capt. Mark Wilton.

292 Moke Homer the Boss Ronstabout; or, The
Fresh-Water Sharks of the Overflow. By J. E.
Badger, Jr.

E8 Stampede Steve; or, The Doom of the Double
Face. By Buckskin Sam.

894 Broadcloth Burt, the Denver Dandy: or. The
Thirty Pards of Deadwood. By Capt. H. Holmes.

:95 Old Cross-Eye. the Maverick-Hunter: or. The
Night Riders 3t Satanta County. By Capt. F.
Whittaker.

no Duncan. the Sea-Diver; or, The Coast Vultures.
By George St. George.

07 Colorado Rube, the Strong Arm of Hotspur
City; or, The Giant Brothers of Buzzard Roost.
By William H. Manning.

“ Logger Lem- or, Life and Peril in the Pine
Woods. By Edward Willett.

39 Three of a Kind. Tiger Dick, lrnxi Despard, and
the Sportive Sport. By P. S. Warne.

no rt in S tacles' Or. The Bad Time at
 By illiam R'Eyster.

m Bowlder Bill; or, The Man from Taos.
Buckskin Sam.

I)! Faro Saul, the Handsome Hercules‘ or, The
Grip or Steel. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

as Top-Notch Tom, the Cowboy Outlaw: or The
Satahstown Election. By Capt Whittaker.

ll Texas Jack. the Prairie Rattler; or, The Queen
of the Wild Riders. By Bulfalo Bill.

so Silver-Plated Sol, the Montana Rover: or. Giant
Dave’s Fight With Himself. By Capt. Mark
Wilton '

m The Roughs of Richmond: or The Mystery of
the Golden Beetle. By A. P. orris.

I)? The Phantom Pirate; or, The Water Wolves or
we Bahamas. By Col. 1’. Ingraham.

we Hemlock Hank. Tough and True' or, The
Shadow of Mount Kathadin. By E. Willett.

309 Raybold. the Battling Ranger; or. Old Roch‘
Tough Campaign. By Buckskin Sam.

810 The Marshal of Satanstown; or. The League of
the Cattle-Lifters. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

I1 H Hand the Relentlesr or, The Marked
1333? Paradise Gulch. By Capt. M. Wilton.

it: Kinkfoot Karl. the Mountain Scou e‘ or W!
log out the Score. By Morris Red  ' p.

‘ 813 Mark Magic, Detective. By A. P. Morris.

814 Lafitte; or. The Pirate of the Gulf. By Prof. J.
H. Ingraham.

‘5 m h Red's Double' or. The Squatiers' League
or six By Edward Willett.

no Latitte's Lieutenant; or. Theodore, the 0mm of
the Sea. By Prof. J. H. Ingraham.

m Frank Li httoot, the Miller Detective. ByJ. n.
Badger. Jr.

By

no no Indian Buccaneer, or Red Roverson Blue
Waters. By Col. Pt'entiss lngraham.

I! Wild Bill. the Whirlwind of the West. By Buf-
talo Bill.

I!) The Genteel Spotter: or,the Night Hawk! of
New York. By A. W. Aiken.

Ii California Claude, the Lone Bandit. By Captain
Howard Holmes.

a The Crimson Coyotes: or. Nita. the Nemesis.
By Buckskin Sam.
_ Hi ll'Ol' TheBanded Brothersotthe
a  By Captain Mark Wilton.

.0 Old Forked Lightning. the Solitary; or, m
I Inoh' a Man. By Jos. get, Jr,

a The Gentleman Pirate° or, The Hermit ofCasno
Barn By 001. P. In m.

m The Whitest Man in the Mines. ’Dycaptain F.
Whittaker.

37 Timpln Dick. the Wild Woods Detective; or.
Trailing a Traitor. By Edward Willett.

K tzor.Tho {them I
as E: kgnSam' Bandits o 3!
Th League of Three' or. BanaloBm's Pledge.
w ByOCOL Prentips Inmhun. ‘
no cop Colt. TheQunkex-cltybem sychu.
Morris.

Charley. the Gold I o‘- no
.m mam,“ Mountain Masks. Byglll  3:.

Heel Jack or The Masked lynx-yo:
a Tower. 3! 05‘- £01139”.

m rDecthelanwithanmp. (w
.Wmlgemm-

"‘ 23%"; r.

glutinous”

 

$3 Flash Dan. the Nabob- or. The Blades of BOWIe
Bar. By Captain H. Holmes.

336 The Manic Ship: or. The Freebooters of Sandy
Hook. By Col. P. .ngraham.

337 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp; or. The Tragedy
of the Deserted Camp, By Ed. Willett.

638 Jack Sand, the Boss of the Town: or. The Fool
of Fiddler’s Folly. By Philip S Warne.

339 Spread Eagle Sam. the Hercules Hide-Hunter.
By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

340 Cool Conrad, the Dakota Detective; 0-. rron:
Lair to Lair. By Captain H. Holmes.

841 The Sea Desperado. By Colonel P. Ingraham.

342 Blanco Bill, the Mustang Monarch. By Buck-
skin Sam.

848 The Head Hunter; or. Mark Magic in the Mines.
By A. P. Morris.

844 Double Shot Dave of the Left Hand; or. A Cold
Wave at Black Dani. By Wm. R. Eyster.

84.5 Masked Mark, the Mounted Detective. ByJos.
E. Badger. Jr.

846 Ocean Guerrillas: or, The Planter Midshipman.
By Col. Prentiss lugraham.

847 Denver Duke the Man With Sand: or. Centi-
Yietile Sam‘s Loneliand. 3y Captain Howard
omes.

848 Dan Dillon, Kin oi' Crosscut: or. A Woman‘s
Wild Work. By dward Willett.

849 Lion-Hearted Dick. the Gentleman Road-Agent.
By Albert W. Aiken.

350 Flash Falcon, the Society Detective. By Weldon
J. Cobb.

851 Nor’west Nick. the Border Detective; or, Dan
Brown’s Fight for Life. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

352 The Desperate Dozen; or. The Fair Fiend of the
C(eur d'AIene. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

853 Barb Brennan. the Train Wrecker: or, The King
of Straight Flusu. By John Cuthbert.

854 Red Richard: or. The Brand of the Crimson
Cross. By Albert W. Aiken.

355 The Mad Athlete: or, The Worst Pill in the Box.
ly Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

856 Three Handsome S rts: or. The Double Com-
bination. By Wm. Eyster.

8!!! Jack Simons, Detective; or, The Wolves of
Washington. By A. P. Morris.

858 The Prince of Pan Out: or, The Beautiful New
vajo‘s Mission. By Buckskin Sam.

359 Yellow Jack. the Mestizo: or, Tiger Dick to the
Rescue. By Philips Warne

sao Jumping Jerry. the Gamecock fro'n Sundown:
or. A Craw Full of Sand. By J. E. Badger. Jr

on Tombstone Dick. the Train Pilot: or. The rm
tor’s Trail. By Ned Buntline.

ass Buffalo Bill‘s Grip: or, Oath-Bound to ouster.
By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

868 Crowningshield. the Detective; or. “tile. at
Death. By Albert W. Aiken

54 The Sea Fugitive: or. The can of tum
By 001. Prentiss Ingraham. Q“

l5 Keen Kennel-d, the Shasta Shadow or, The
Branded Face. By Capt. Howard Ho mes.

an The Telmnph Detective: or The smite
League. By George Henry Moi-so. M

an A Royal Flash or. Dan Brown's Game of
Freeze-Out. By Joe. E. Badger. .1318

an 'l'heOan on El :or.APri onHls Head.
Edward Billet? 06 By

D The Ocast Corsair: or. 'Madca  the Siren .

of the Sea. By Col. Prentiss
m The Dusky Detective: or. Pursued to the End.
By A. W. Aiken.

gra am.

an Gold Buttons- or The U -Ran Pards. B
Buckskin Sem'. ' p go y

MCataInCri .theManwih Boon
JosrfE.Badgseg,Jr. Vt “ "1‘ 8’

m The Sailor of Fortune or. The Buccaneersof
Barnegat Bay. By Col.  Ingraham.

an Major Blister. the Sport 01’ Two Cities

- or The
Broadwa 8 tier in the Black Hills. l3
Howard 0 y bum.

at Royal George. the Three in One' or. The Gold
Deck on Blazers. By Wm. B. Eys'ter.

an The Black Beards: or, The High Horse on the
Rio Grande. By Albert W. Aiken.

w Afloat and Ashore: or. The Corsair Oomph-m,
By Col. Prentiss. Ingraham.

I! John Arnitrong. Mechanic: or, From the Bottom

68.

to the To of the ladder. C! P. Whit.
p ‘8; pt. . 

  
 

N9 Howling Jonathan: or, The Terror from Haul
waters. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr

380 The Golden Serpent; or, Tiger Dick‘s Hedge.
By P. S. Warne.

881 The Gypsy Gentleman: or. Nick Fox. the Demon
Detective. By AJbert W. Aiken.

382 The Bonanza Band: or. Dread Don, of the 000i
Clan. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

  
   
   
  
  
    
   
    
    
    
   
    
   
 
   
  
    
   
   
     
   
    
 
    
 
   
     
   
  
  
   
  
    
  
   
    
    
   
  
     
  
    
   
 
   
     
 
   
 

«23$ Silver Sam, the Detective: 0“ The Rustler-s oi
ItightsteACity. By Major Danitl Boone Dumonb

.‘M Injun Dick. Detective; or. Tracked from the
Rockies to New York. By Albert W. Aiken

to. Mid Dick Turpin. the Lion .:5
The Lone Hand. By W“.

888 Hawk Heron, the Falcon Detective‘ or. The
gotham Flats Mystery. By Jackson Knox. (Old
awk.‘
887 in“; Burn. the Ishmael of the Hills; (mm
Gold Phantom. By J05. E. Badger. Jr.

8& The Giant Buccaneer; or, The Wrecker Win
of Death Island. By Colonel P. Ingraham.

839 Colonel Doubleed e. the Cattle Baron‘s Pard’
or. The Marshal o Sandstone. By Major Daniel
Boone Dumont, U. S. A.

890 The Giant Cupid- or. Cibuta John’s Great
Jubilee. By J. C. owdrick.

89! Kate Scott. the Decoy Detective; or. Joe Phe-
nix's sun Hunt. By A. W. Aiken,

8921116 Lost Bonanza: or, The Bant-
Hound. By Captain Howard Helmetr

398 The Convict Captain: or. 'l‘L
Buccaneers. By Colo:.el Pro.

894 White Beaver. the, Exile of the Platte: or, a
t.‘ronged Man‘s Red Trail. By Buffalo Bill. _

895 Deadly Aim. the Duke of Derringers: or. a Fight
for Five Millions. By Jos. E. Badger. J r.

390 The Piper Detective: or. The Gilt Edge Gang.
By Wm. R. Eyster.

897 The Wizard Brothers; or. White Beaver’s Red
TraiL By Buflalo Bill.

398 Sleepless Eye. the Pacific Detecflve: or, Ruhr
hing Down a Double By Geo. C. Jenks.

M The New Monte Cristo: or. The Wandering Jew
of the Sea. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

_ . needle: or,
. :1 alaumng

z Silent

mines of the
. ngraham.

m Captain Coldgrip, the Snort Detective; or, The
New York Spotter in Colorado. By Captain
Howard Holmes.

0! The One-Arm Pard: or. Red Retribution in Boo
derland. By Buffalo Bill.

I! Snapshot Sam. the Pistol Sharp, or. The Racket
at Angels' Flat. By Wm. B. Eyster.

ID The Nameless Sport: or. The Kilkenny Cat! 0!
Way Up. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr

Oi Silwr Rifle. Sid; or, A Daisy Bluff. By Philip 8.
Warns.

I! Did Baldv. the Brigadier of Buck Basin; or,

Hunted Down by a Woman. By William H. "
Manning. K
«in Old Po Hicks. Showman: or. Lion Charley! 

Luck. y Capt. F. Whittaker

0? Captain Coldgrin‘s Nerve: or, Injun Nick a
Deck. By Capt. Reward Holmes.

409 Doc Grip).
detta of ‘

the Sportinz Detective; or thev.
eath. By Albert W Aiken '

409 Rob Roy Ranch: or. The imps oi‘ the Pan Hul- ‘
die. By Joseph E Badger. Jr ‘

410 Sarah Brown. Detective; or. The Mystery oft].
Pavilion. By K. F. Hill.

411 The “'hite Crook: or. Old Hark‘s Fortress. = 
Major Daniel Boone Dumont. .’ 

412 Lnrrv Locke. the Man of Iron: or. A lighth- ft:
Fortune. By Capt. Fred. Whittak.-r. , -’

413 Captain Colder-lo in New York'- or. The Dram. 
League. By Capt. H Holmes. ' _ 

414 Rwi Renard. the lumen Detective: or. The Gold
Buzzards of Colored By Buffalo Bill.

415 Hot Heart. the Detective  or. The Red
Jagua 's Mission. By Wm. . anninr -

41b Monte Jim. the Black Sheep of Bismamk. w
Joe. E. Badger. r. .

.3 Tom. the Bowie Brave: or. mm
m We“. By George St. George. . '

man, ‘theSea Siren: or.The Fugitiver '
“BygoLPJnm-aham. - ‘

419111913“ of the Butte - or. Joe mmm'
- otDetectives. ByAibxeyi-iw. Aiken.  

Md. Daniel Boone Dumont.
fl father Fe
’0! Bowie

M‘l‘heOldRiverSpat: or.A manor noun a" "

   
   

the'hiscofihedowgor
Bycsptain

Howard

 

 

‘447 Volcano, the 'Frisco Spy

' 45B D'itch Dan.,the Pilgrim from Spitzenbegg;
o

’BEADLE’siDIMEaiILBRARY.

Published Every lVednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

 

l _

 

 

 

422 Blue-Grass Burt, the Gold Star Di-tective' or.
ToDuty Bound, to Vengeance Sworn. By  C.
(‘owdrick

423 The Lone Hand; or The Ri-creants of the Red

RiVi-r. By Albert w’. Aiken.

MHawk Heron‘s Deputy: or, Nixey’s Nip. By
Jackson Knox. (Old Hawk.)

425 The Sea Sword; or, The Ocean Rivals. iy Col. i

P. Ingrahani.

426 The Ghost Detectiw: or, Thi- Sp
Service. By Joseph E. Badger. r.

427 The Rivals of Montana Mills; or. Redgrave, the
Renegade. By Wm. H. Manning.

4% ITJge Flying Glim; or, The Island Lure. By Leon

ms.
429 Hair Trigger Tom of Red Bend; or, All Wool .

and Yart Wide. By William R. Eyster.

430 The atal Frigate: or, Rivals in Love and War.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

431 California Kit, the Always on Hand; or, The
Mountain Rivals. By Philip S. Warne.

432 The Giant Horseman; or, Tracking the Red
Cross Gan . By George C. J enks.

438 Laughing 00; or Spread Eagle Sam’s Dandy
Pard. By Jose, h . Badger. Jr.

434 Lucifer Lynx, t e Wonder Detective; or A Cool
Hand Among Hot Heads. By Ca t. H. olmes.

435 The One-Armed Buccaneer; or. he Havenless
Cruiser. B Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

436 Kentucky can, the Sport From Yellow Pine; or,
ggleEEyed Belle of Bonded Bow. By J. C. Cow-

c .

437 Deep Duke, the Silent Sharp; or, The Man of
Two Lives. By Wm. H. Manninfi.

488 Oklahoma Nick; or, Boomer olt‘s Surprise
.Party. By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

439 Salamander Sam; or, The Swamp Island Rene-
gades. By Major D. B. Dumont.

440 The High Horse of the Pacific. By Albert W.
Aiken.

441 The California Sharp; or, The Trail of the Gold-
en Grandee. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

442 Wild West Walt the Mountain Veteran; or, The
Gunmakers of World’s End. By W. H. Manning.

443 A Cool Hand; or, Pistol Johnny’s Picnic at Top
Notch. By JOSeph E. Badger, Jr.

444 The Magic Detective; or, The Hidden Hand. By
Jackson Knox.

445 Journeyman John. the Cham ion; or, The Win-
ning Hand. By Capt. Fred. hittaker.

446 Ocean 0 e. the Outcast Corsair; or, The Good
Ship of i-Omen. By Col. P. Ingraham.

or. The Secret of the

Secret Seven. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

‘ 448 Hark Kenton. the Traitor; orI The Hunted Life.

By Major D. Burr. '

449 Blui! Burke, King of the Rockies; or, The Black
Stake Rivals. By Wm. H. Manning.

450 The Rustler Detective; or, The Bounding Buck
from Buflalo Wallow. By J. E. Badger. r.

451 Grlplock. the Rocket Detective; or, The Han-
shaw Mystery. By Jackson Knox.

452 Rainbow Rob. the Tulip from Texas; or. The
Spot Saint’s Mission. By J. C. Cowdrick.

, 453 Captain Coldgrip's Long Trail: or. The Rivals of

Silver Deck. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

‘ 454 The Night Raider; or, The Mysterious Marauder.

By Major D. B. Dumont.

V ' . 9455 Yank Yellowbird. the Tall Hustler of the Hills;

or, The Conspirators of Medicine Springs. By
Wm. H. Manning.

‘ ‘ 456 The Demon Steer; or, The Outlaws on the Abi-

lene Cattle Trail. By Loon Lewis.

45? The Sea Insurgent; or, The (bnspirator‘s Son.

By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

or.

The Rocky Racket at Rough Robin. seph
E. Badger, Jr.

459 Major Sunshine. the Man of Three Lives; or. The
Waiting Waits at Git Thar. By Wm. R. Eyster.

By

I ‘ ‘ 460 Captain Coldgrin. thil (fity Detective; or, The

' 464 Sandycraw.

‘ 474 Dadd

Coolest Woman in New York. By Capt. Howard
Holmes.

461 The Fresh on the. RioGrande: or, The Red Riders
of Rayon. By Albert W. Aiken.

462 The Circus Detective; or, Griplock in a New
Role. By Jackson Knox.

463 Gold Gauntlet, the Gulch Gladiator; or. Yank

gallowbird‘s Hot Campaign. By Wm. H. Man-
ng.

the Man of Grit' or, The River
Sport’s Revenge. By Major D. B. Dumont.

465 The Actor Detective. By Albert W. Aiken.

’ .466 Old Rough and Read ,the Sage of Sundown; or,

Not for Life but for ouor. By J. E. Badger. Jr.

I V 467 Mainwaring the Salamander; or, The Detectives’

Ordeal. By Jackson Knox.
468 Coldgrl in Deadwood; or, The Great Detective‘s
Double rail. By Captain H. Holmes.

409 The Lieutenant Detective; or, The Fugitive Sail-
or. By Col. P. Ingraham.

' 470 The Duke of Dakota; or. Yank Yellowblrd’s

Fiery Gantlet. By Wm. H. Manning.

I, 471 The Heart of Oak Detective; or. Zigzag‘s Full

Hand. By E. A. St. Mox.
472 Six-Foot Si; or, The Man to “ Tie To."
Warns.
473 Gilbert of Gotham. the Steel Arm Detective; or.
Fighting the Powers of Air. By J. C. Cowdrick,
Dead-Eye, the Despot of Dew-Drop; or.
The amsel from Deseret. By Jos. E. Badger.
475 Chin Chin. the Chinese Detective' Or. The Dark
Work of the Black Hand. By A. ’w. Aiken.

By P. S.

476 Bob Brent. Buccaneer; or, The Red Sea-Raider.
_ By Col. P. Ingrshsm.

of the Secret Ii

41‘? Dead-Arm Brandt; or. The Long Vengeance.
By Jackson Knox.

478 Pinnacle Pete: or, The Fool From ’Way Back.
By W. R. Eysti-r.

; 479 Gladiator Gabe, the Samson of 59.550. Jack; or,

; Yank Yellowbird‘s Castle Crusade. By Wm. H.

Manning.

5480 Hawks ear, the Man with a Secret; or, New

York Nick's Spirit Trail. By Captain Howard

. Holmes.

481 The Silent Detectives; or, The Bogus Nephew.

‘ By Leon Lewis.

3 482 Ocean Tramps; or, The Desperadoos of the Deep.

By Col. P. lngraham.

} 483 Flush Fred. the River Sharp; or, Hearts for

I Stakes. By Ed. Willett.

1484 Captain Ready. the Red Ransomcr; or Nick
Peddie’s Wild West inheritance. By Leon Lewis.

485 Rmvloc the Harbor Detective: or The Terrible
Twins. iy Jackson Knox.

486 Kansas Kitten. the Northwest Detective; or,
Yank Yellowbird‘s Search-Brigade. By Wm. H.
Manning.

487 Sunshine Sam Chip of the Old Block; or, The
Silent Trail of the Silent Six. By Capt. Howard
Holmes.

488 The Thcu'oughbred Sport; or, The Big Bracer‘s
Bequest. By Jos. E. iadger, Jr. '

489 The Pirate Hunter; or, The Ocean Rivals.
Col. P. lngrahain.

490 The‘ Lone Hand in Texas; or, The Red-Gloved
Raiders of the Rio Grande. Bv A. W. Aiken.

491 Zi 1g and Cutt, the Invincible Detectives; or,
A ecious Set of Scoundrels. By E. A. St. Mox.

492 Border Bullet. the Prairie Sharpshooter: or.
Yank Yellowbird’s Black Hills Colony. By Wm.
H. Manning.

498 The Scouts of the Sea; or, The Avenging Buc

..caueer. By Col. P. Ingraham.

4941The Detective’s Spy; or, The Invisible Book.
By Jackson Knox.

495 Rattlepate Rob; or The Roundhead‘s Reprisal.
By Jos. E. Badger, r.

496 Richard Redflre. the Two Worlds Detective;
or, To the Bitter End. By Capt. H. Holmes.

497 The Fresh in Texas; or, The Escobedo Millions.
By A. W. Aiken.

498 Central Pacific Paul, The Mail-Train S y; or,
Yank Yellowhird‘s Iron Trail. By Will am H.
Manning.

499 Twilight Charlie, the Road Sport; or, Sulphur
Sam‘s Double. By J. C. Cowdrick.

500 The True Heart Pards; or. The Gentleman
Vagabond. By Dr. N. Dunbar.

501 Sgringsteel Steve. the Retired Detective; or,
; T e Relentless Shadower. By Jackson Knox.
502 Bareback Buck, the Centaur of the Plains; or,

The Trail of Six. By P. S. Warne. .

508 The Dude from Denver; or, The Game at Ground
Hog. By Wm. R. Eyster.

504 Solemn Saul the Sad Man from San Saba; or,
The Big Shell-Out. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

505 Phil Fox. the Genteel Spotter" or the Private
Secretary’s Oath. By Captain H. Holmes.

506 Uncle Honest, the Peacemaker of Hornet’s
Nest; or, Yank Yellowblrd versus the Leather
Jackets. By Wm. H. Manning.

507 The Drummer Detective; or, The Dead Straight
Trail. By Geo. C. Jenks.

506 Topnotch Tim, the Mad Parson: or, The Bad
Men of the Basin. By Major D. B. Dumont.

509 Old Falcon. the Thunderbolt Detective, or, The
Fateful Legacy. By Jackson Knox.

510 El Moro, the Corsair Commodore: or, The Lion
of the Lagoon. By Col. P. Ingraham.

511 Paint Pete, the l’raire Patrol: or, The Rival
Rancheros. By Major S. S. Hall.

512 Ca tain Velvet’s Big Stake; or, The Gold Goths
of o Man’s Ground. By Capt. H. Holmes.

513 Texas Tartar, the Man with Nine Lives; or.
Yank Yellowbiril‘s Best Yank. By William H.
Manning.

514 Gabe Gunn. the Grizzly from Ginseng; or.

I Solemn Saul‘s Seraph. By Jon E. Badger, Jr.

515 Short Stop Maje, the Diamond Field Detective;
or, Old Ealcon 3 Master Game. By J. Knox.

516 Chatard. the Dead-Shot Duelist; or, The Fate-
ful Heritage. By Col. P. Ingraham.

517 Buffalo Bill‘s First Trail; or. Will Cody, the
Pony Express Rider. By Ned Buntline.

518 Royal Richard the Thoroughbred: or, Long
Pete Jenkins’a Convoy. By John W. Osbon.

519 Old Riddles, the Rocky Runner; or. The Reser-
vation Castaways. By J. C. Cowdrick.

520 The Lone Hand on the Caddo; or. The Bad
Man of the Big Bayou. By A. W. Aiken.

By

Yellowbird‘s Great Diskivery. By W. H. Manning.

522 The Champion Three; or, Six-Foot Si‘s Clean
Sweep. By P. S. Warns.

528 Reynard of Red Jack; or. The Lost Detective.
By Captain H. Holmes.

524 The Sea Chaser; or. The Pirate Noble. By Col.
P. lngraham.

525 Fresh Frank, the Derringer Daisy; or. Millions
on the Turn. By Wm. R. Eyster.

5% Death-Grip the Tenderfoot Detective' or, A
Still Hunt or Old Secrecy. By Geo. C. enks.

527 Dandy Andy. the Diamond Detective; or, The
Twinsof Tiptop. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

 

 

521 Paradise Sam. the Nor‘wmt Pilot: or. Yank.

528 Huckleberry, the Foot-Hills Detective; on, The
Rival Ranchinen. By Lieut. A. K. Sims.

529 The, Fresh in New York; or, The Vendetta oi:
Hate. By A. W. Aiken.

530 The Savages of lllt' Sea; or, The Avenging
Cruiser. By Col. P. Ingraham.

531 Saddle-Chief Kit. the. Prairie Centaur; or, The
Border Blacksmith‘s Terrible Temptation. By
Wm. H. Manning.

532 Javert, the Independent Detective; or. Captain
Cinnabar in New York. By Capt. H. Holmes.

533 Oregon. the Sport with a Scar: or. The Best
Man 01’ Brace Box. By Wm. R. Eysler.

534 Greenmountain Joe; or. The Counterfeiter’s
Cave. By Marmaduke Dey.

535 Dandv Dutch. the Decnrator from Dead-Lift; or.
Saul Sunday‘s Search for Glory. By J. E. Badger.

536 Old Falcon’s Foe; or. The Matchless Detective’s
Swell Job. By Jackson Knox.

537 Blake. the Mountain Lion; or. The Fresh Against
the Field. By Albert W. Aiken.

538 Rube Rocket. the Tent Detective; or,
Trcacherous Two. By Geo. C. Jenks.

539 Old Doubledark. the Wily Detective: or. The In—
visible F oe's Masquerade. By Wm. H. Manning.

540 The Fleet Scourge; or. The Sea Wing of Salem.
By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. »

541 Ma‘or Magnet. the Man of Nerve- or The Muck-
a-) ucks of Animas. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

542 The Ocean Drift; or, The. Fight for Two Lives.
By A. F. Holt.

543 The M ate Detective; or. Major Million‘s
Joust wit the Witch. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

'544 The Back to Back Pards; or. The'Right Man in
the Wrong Place. By Philip S. Warne.

545 Hustler Ha , the Cowboy Sport; or. Daring
Dan Shark’s eneral Delivery. By W. G. Patten.

546 The Doomed \Vhaler; or, The Life. Wreck. By
Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

547 The Buried Detective; or. Saul Sunday’s Six
Sensations. By Jos. E. Badger. Jr.

548 Falconbridge. the S hinx Detective; or, The
Siren of the Baleful ye. By Jackson Knox.

549 Belshauar Brick, the Bailiff of Blue Blazes; or.
Four Horse Frank‘s Frolic at Bad Luck Bar.
By Wm. R. Eyster.

550 Silk Hand. the. Mohave Ferret; or, The Marked
Man of Arizona. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

551 Ga Kean, the Man with Backbone: or, The
Glad ators of Jack‘s Delight. By William H.
Manning.

552 Prince Primrose, the FlOWer of the Flock; or,
The Grand Camp at Paradise Gulch. By Lieut.
A. K. Sims.

553 Monte the. Mutinoer; or, The Branded Brig.
By Col. P. Ingraham.

554 Mad Sha . the Rustler; or, The Drummer De-
tective’s B g Layout. By Geo. C Jenks.

555 Grig-Sack Sid. the Sam le Sport; or, the Rivals
of ock-about Range. yJoseph E. Badger, Jr.

556 Fresh. the S ort-Chevalier; or, A Big Racket at
Slide Out. y A. W. Aiken.

557 The Mountain Graybeards: or. Old Riddle’s
Greatest Riddle. By J. C. (‘owdrick \

558 Hurrah .the High Horse from Halcyon:
or. High Old lines at Hard Pan. By Wm. R.
Evster. ‘

559 Danton, the Shadow Sharp‘ or. The Queen of the
Hidden Hands. By Capt. Howard holmes.

560 The Man from Mexico; or. The Idol of Last
Chancv. By Col. P. Ingraham.

561 The Thug King; or. The Falcon Detective‘s In-
visible Foe. By Jackson Knox.

562 Lone Hand. the Shad0w; or. The Master of the
Triangle Ranch. By Albert W. Aiken.

563 Wyoming Zeke, the Hots ur of Honeysuckle;
or. Old Humility‘s Hard and to Travel. By
Wm. H. Manning.

564 The Grip-Sack Sharp; or, The Seraphs of Sodom.
By Jos. E. Badger. r.

565 Prince Paul. the Postman Detective; or. Crush-
ing a Serpent‘s Head. By J. C. Cowdrick.

566 The Dauntless Detective; or, The Daughter

. Avenger. By Tom W. King.

567 Captain Midnight, the Man of Craft; or, The
Road-Knight’s Plot. By P.  Wame.

568 The Dude Detective“ or Phelin McGallagin's
Hard Luck Hustle. By Wm. R. Eyster.

569 Captain Cobra. the Hooded M stery; or The
Quickeni-d Dead. By Captain oward Holmes.

570 The Actress Detective; or, The Invisible Hand.

‘ By Albert W. Aiken.

571 Old Dismal, the Range Detective: or. The Hid-
den Cabin of Wind Canyon. By Wm. G. Patten.

572 Jaunty Joe. the Jockey Detective. By Geo. C‘.
Jenks. Ready October 9.

578 The Witch of Shasta; or. Th0 Man of Cheek-
Ry‘giaajor Daniel Boone Dumont.

y October 16.
574 Old Falcon's Double. By Jackson Knox.
Ready October 9!. . - '

The

575 Stead Hand the Napoleon of Detectives-
By \y am H Manning. Ready October 80.
A new issue every Wednuday.

Beadle Dime Library is tor sale 
Newsdaalers, ten cents per copy, or coat by m on
receipt of twalve cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS. Publishers,

 

fl William Strut; New Yuk.

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