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BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS, ,-,/ ,%
AUTHOR or “KANSAS KARL, 'rnn DETECTIVE 531/, 4-“
KING,” “PRINCE I’RIMBOSE. THE FLOWER  v,‘\
OF THE FLUCK," “ HtichEBEnaY, ‘  7‘  \ \
TIIE FunT-HILLS DETECTIVE,” _ ,7   "
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— “:‘—'7.- K
CHAPTER I. “I. ' ‘

A PILURIM AND A STRANHER.

A cnnwl) Wus gnthormg about a forlorn armci-
men of humanity on one cf tbs- dusty strep”, Hf
Mineral Gap. The shadows of night Wen- M-
ready fulhug; and the twang 0f the strnngvr’s
guitar attracted mnnyfrom the throngs of wwrk.
men and miners hurrying homewm—d.

Mineral Gap, situated in a notch of the snowy
Range was in the height of its mushronm glury
and growth. Whom hut a few months bt-furu
only sage-brush “Juriflbed, was now a city ml.“ ,,, ,
wrtb life and (-nvrgy, teeming with population, x/,‘,,/, W, .
and bUaSt'W 8“ “W “MM” “"inements. Ins mums SWEPT THE STRINGS or run GUITAR AND ma LIFTED Ins vorcr: DOLI-LE‘L‘LLY.

  
  

  

//

 

   
 
  
   
 
  
  
    
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

.armsto

tor ,days. His rusty clothing hung loosely.

Cl,

MW: 4 v-

 

 

 

The individual around whom the people were
flocking scarcely needed the light of the flaring
torch, which he had erected beside the dry-
goods box whereon he stood. The rays of an
electric lamp across the way fully illuminated
everything. But he had set up his torch, never-
theless: and now, in spite of the general dilapida-
tion and semi-semblance‘of distress that charac-
terized him, looked out upon his growing

l audience with a smile: while his fingers swept

the strings of the guitar and he lifted his voice
dolefuily:

“ I m a pilgrim, and i'm a stranger!
I can tarry—I can tarry but a night!
Do not detain me, for I am g dug .
To where the fountains are ever flowmg.
I‘m a pilgrim. and i'm a stranger;
I can tarry-I can tarry but a night i”

A universal how! of derision arose at this
point, forcing the singer to suspend in the midst
of his song. It was not that his voice was not
clear and pleasant. It was a tenor of much
cOmpass and sweetness. The words, too, ac-
corded strongly with his apparent condition. He
did indeed seem a pilgrim and a stranger, dropped
from nowhere into their midst—a wanderer and
a half-vagabond. But, it was not this that
caused the protest. The sentiment of the, sad,
old hymn was not pleasing.

“ What fountain aire ye lookin’ fer?” one of
the listeners questioned, as the singer glanced
with a smile of inquiry at the objectors. “ The
fountains don’t flow hyer wu’th a cent, ’thout

ou put up the dust. Good drinkin’ don’t run
rec in the streets 0' Mineral Gap!"

“Nothin’ is free, my dear sir!” with an at-
tempt at jocularity- “Even my Magic Cure
costs money. But, it’s Worth it! Worth every
cent 1 ask for it.

“ But I see you want a song! You shall not
be disappointed. My reperturry holds about
ever’thing that’s sung by the best singers, frum
Dadd lina Patty to the sweet singer from
Mich gan, and I’m willing to give you the benefit
of it. I see this is a business place, so I’ll sing
business!”

He thrummed the guitar fora few moments
while be cleared his throat.

“ Let ’er go!” some hilarious soul shouted.

And this was his response:

“ 'Tis not for your filthy lucm \
.‘Tis not for your tinkling tln'
‘Tis not for your ready, your rhino, your stamps,
That I travel this v e of sin!
’Tis the good I can do in , fellows;
And the sorrows that clans, ,
With my magical

Fra 'cal,
agical,
Cure for the human race!
" Have you corns on your toes? Have you pains in
our head?
D senses of body or mind?
Are vimr ears ,, stopped with sawdust to charity’s
ca .
'And to misery sore are you blind!
layour conscience cold? Do your pulses clog
’hen to wangayou are brought face to face?
Take my magi ,
Raglcal.
cal.
ragical,
Cure for the human race!
“ There is nothinfi wrong that it cannot right!
’I‘wlll mend it the rents in your cl'oes. ~
’Twill take that brick from out of your hat,
And draw that tint from your nose.
’Twill banish the terrible fever called "lover—7
All aches and'pains ’twill cancel—-

Here’s in cal
’ mflglo’n.
' cal
Cure for the human racel

“ Have a bottle! Only fifty cents!

"Gentlemen," as no one rushed with eager

p the cure-all so hi hi recom-

mended in his verse, “I used to sel is for a

quarter—but I’ve riz on the price. Ifaman
wants to have his cracked conscience nod to-
ether by this medicine, he can affo to pay
fty cents for it!

‘,‘ Only fifty cents!” steppln abouton the dry-
goods box and extending the ttle temptingly.
“ It’ll do just What I claim for it. Cure a head-
ache in three minutes, by the watch. Peel a

' corn oir’n your great too quicker’n you can lifta

mortgage, to savo your neck! The greatest lin-
iment that was ever produced. Just as good,
too, for a burro as 'tis fun a man. Have your

I but-roe got the epizootio or your children the

chicken-mix! Just take home a bottle and try
it. J out try it! An’ if it don’t do what I say
it will do. I’ll agree to drink it, myself. Harm-
less! Why, gentlemen, it’s as harmlessas water;
and mighty near as cheap. Fift cents for a
bottle 0
to health, wealth and prosperity!

“ Better come before the rush! for some days
I’m that busy a-haadin’ it out that it’s imwssi-
ble to ‘commodate all.

“ Have a bottle!”

A eerie-comic air hovered about the medicine-
vendor.
respectability—an individual who had seen t-

truck that'll set you on t a high road-

He seemed a representative of done «1'

 

  
 

His grayish heard, the sport of the evening
wind, needed the touch of a barber. But his
hataau ancient silk tile—seemed to link him to
amore stylish past; and his worn shoes shone
from a fresh polishing. The seriousness that
clung to him, as well as the humorous quaint‘
ness of his remarks, keyed as they were to an
anxious pitch in Spite of their banter, appeared
to be part and parcel of his very nature. One
would be inclined to be sorry for him and to
laugh at him at the same time.

There are men who will buy anything that
is put up for sale. No matter what is offered
they cannot resist making a purchase. They be-
long to that great class who are born to be hum-
bugged at every opportunity. One of these ex-
tended a fifty-cent piece, and received in return
a bottle of the medicine.

It seemed to furnish fresh inspiration to the
vender. His e! uence rose anew. He also be-
came more speci ciu his declarations of what
the liniment would accomplish; and others em-
boldened by example, aSSPd up their money for
a bottle of the Magic gore.

“Gentlemen,” beaming with ardonable
pleasure, “ this is something like. t reminds
me of the days in Denver, when I use to rake
in the shekels hand-over-flst. If this keeps up
a little while, I’ll be feelin’ as rich as Cresop!”

He was getting his histor mixed and min-
gling .Zanp with Croesus. eating time with
one of the bottles, he again broke into son .

“ That’s right, gentlemen! Tumble up! gl‘um-
ble up!

“ Come along, come along! Make no dv. lay!
Come from every nation, come from every way!

“ Come and get yerseives cured of your pangs
and paregorics, your aches and your ailments,
your pinched-u hearts and your paralyzod

urse-strings! tep right this way, gentlemen!

ight this way!”

The impulse that had led the purchasers on
bad ebbed; and in spite of his many urgings,
no one stepped forward to take the bottle
from his hand. Around the crowd that press-
ed closely to him rolled the tide of homeward-
bound humanity, like a stream deflected by a
rocky barrier.

Again he caught up his guitar and sought by
a song to stay some 0 those who were hurrying
past. A few of the more curious dropped out
and lingered for a time; remaining evon after
the song ended, to listen to his running fire of
comment and rsuasion.

In spite of t e apgarent anxiety with which
he urged the sale of is medicine, a close obser—
ver might have detected an occasional furtive-
uses of glance, which showed that he was more
closely watching what was going on, and who
was passing, than he seemed to be.

If he was a student of faces, there was truly
much food for thought presented in many of the
copntenances before him. It was a motley
throng he looked upon, composed as it was of all
classes and conditions of men, from the bus
merchants tarriing fora moment, tothe shrew -
faced boothac s standing on tip-toe with self-
assertive aggressiveness.

If he saw what he was lookin for, he gave
no si u; but continued to cry is wonderful
rein y, at intervals sandwiching in a song.

 

CHAPTER II.
A susmcrous GLANCE.

Tim medicine-vendor had not been standing
long beneath the glare of the torchlight, when
a stage rattled up the street to the roomy sta-
tion on the opposite corner. '

With a flourish of his whip, the Jehu drew in
the foaming and dust-covered horses; then nim-
bly descended from the box to the und, threw
0 an the coach door, and assis a woman to

ai ht. .

ghe '88 someWhat comely in appearance
though "the? large; and, so far as one could
judge—10" Hons Cloak partially'envelopcd her
-W88 EPPRYed in rich and dressy fabrics. She
Was 010°91y "lied; and, after paying the boy
Who took char of her hand-sachel, turned for
I moment to 001! at the sin er, who was at
“1” 108mm 013888“! in one of his metrical out-
bué'hu. ll lit to. r n

6 Rave 3 3 I rt as her eyes e upon

him. She slippecf the veil partly from her face
that She might see more clearly. and seemed to
ban as if entranced on his words. -

“ t’s Benton 1” she whispered, pullin the veil
“"50 Place and turning nervously up t 9 street.

“ I’m sure of it. He’s very cleverly got-up, but .

my eyes are too good for him to fool me. I’d
recognize him an where.”

She was man festly much agitated by her
supposed discovelg. Whoever the man was
whom she called enton, it was plain hi! Dres-
enoe tended to disturb her.

“ Now, what is he doing here?”

“Ma’aml”

She ha inadvértentlg expressed herself aloud,
and she ow observe the urchin at her side
look (#imtloningly u into her face,

“ V hat is who do ng here, mum)?”

She frowned behind her vail, but replied
smoothly enough: ,

“ Did I speakl I must have been talking to

 

Singer Sam, the Pilgrim '1 Detective.

'7

myself.
her?”

It was a point on which the boy could give no
information. The medicine-vender had only
come into town that evening, so far as the
boy knew; and the lad’s looks revealed that
with all his boyish nature he was longing to go
back, that he might further hear the rollicking
of the songs and the twanging of the guitar.

On arriving near her destination, she dismiss—
ed him with a kindly word, and hurried into an
imposing building, climbing the stairs with a
marvelous rapidity for one so fleshy.

There was a light burning in a room on the
second floor, and into this room she entered with-
out ceremony.

There were two men in the wow, lolling
easily back in luxurious arm-chairs and puff-
ing clouds of tobacco smoke, to the great detri-
ment of the hangings.

It was a richly furnished apartment, every-
thing being of the costliest character and
latest design, such as one would not expect to
find so far from the heart of civilization.

“ You must have come up those stairs three
steps at a time,” one of the men coolly observed
after removing his cigar from his lips. “ l
thought it was one of the servants. Such exer-
tions in a woman of your build might be fraught
with serious consequences.”

This was said with a lazy indifference not at
all pleasant‘to the one addressed.

She hit her lip to conCea! her annoyance, as
she threw back her veil and began to remove
her wraps.

The light of the swinging lamp fell full upon
her face, now. It was not an unpleasant face,
though there were lines of unmistakable stern-
ness and harshness. It had been a handsome
face in days gone by, and there still lingered
many traces of this departed beauty.

There was, however, acertain coarseness of
air and flashiness of dress that was repellent.
Her rather large fingers wore covered with a
profusion of rings, a gold watch gleamed at her
waist, and a superfluity of jewelry was eVery-
where visible.

“If you had seen what I did just now you
would have tumbled up the stairway headlong!”
she declared, with a flash of her eyes, as she put
away the articles of clothing she had just re-
movod. “ If Benton isn’t in town, Major Dius-
more, then I’m not good at guessing, that‘s all!”

The words were shot out with a suddenness
startlin of itself; but their effect was not due to
this. th the man addressed asMajor Dins—
more, and his companion, lost the er of in-
dolent ease’ which had characterized them, and
bent forward with earnest attitude.

Dinsmore‘s com nion was a man in middle
life, being about t e same age as the major him-
self. There the resemblance ceased. Except
for his noticeable indolence, the major was such
a man as one may meet any day in almost any
city. He seemed a well-to-do business man, of
the mercantile class;—a man who was making,
and had made, money, and to whom life was
passing pleasantly enough.

Not so with the other. From the top of his
iron-gray head to the soles of his heavy boots,

Who is that singer we saw on the cor—

he looked the villain; and his looks did not be- a

lie the facts. With the exception of a mus-
tache, the same! hue as his hair, his face was
smooth; and it had a bani-dog, lowering ex;
pression that was an thing at pleasing. This
worthy to an familiar, the major ad-
dressed as Tobe TinChman.

“ I reckon you must ’a’ been mistaken ’bout
that!” Tinchman observed, running his knuckly
fingers uneasil through his hair. “What in
the name 0’ al that’s out, would Benton be a-
doin’ here?”

“You and the major ou ht to know, if an
one does,” the woman en gmatically replie ,
sinking into a chair opposite the two.

“0! course Madame Muriel is densely ignoo
rant, herself!” and Dinsmore sneered, even while
his face was whitening under the fear that had
so uickiy come to him. .

ith a sigh, he resumed his old attitude, in-
terlaced his fingers, and looked questionineg at
her.

“ As the madame is so good at telling other
people’s fortunes, perhaps she can throw a little
light on this subject!”

The statement was in the form of a question. :

“Bother the fortunes!” rumin as if some as.

rsiou had been cast on her. “ his is no time
or nonsense, major! If Benton is here, and 1
am sure I saw him, it means mischis i”

“ We are not the only people i this over-
boomed town living by their wits!” the major
affirmed. “ Nor the only people who are hang.
lug onto money that ought to be in the purse of
others.’ Suppose Benton is here? That’s no sign
he is after us!” _

Tinchman saw, as well as did Madame Muriel,
that Dinsmore was talking more for the purpose
of mining his own courage than because he be-
lieved w at he said. '

“ Where is the chap?” Tinchman asked, still
thinking she might be the victim of an error'
and, when the madame informed him he pick
up his hat, drew it down over his heetling brass is,
and hurried into the street. _

He was back within a Very short time, his

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Y  V    Sa‘ni, the Pilgrim Detective.

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manner sh0wing belief that the madame was
correct in her conjecture. The others had ner-
vously awaited his return, and their tears, from
whatever cause, were now renewed.

“ I couldn’t swear that it’s him,” he declared,
addinga number of bitter invectives to fill out
and strengthen the declaration. “But it’s my
honest be let that it is. Hang the scamp! I’d
iike to choke him! And I‘ll do it, too, if he tries
i0 play any roots on us. He’s on a dandy lay,
and rigged out beautilul, thou h, and likewise
d -ceiViu’. I reckon I might ’a’ istened to them
swings and gags, and that poverty racket, for a
week, without ever takin’ a tumble to it!”

There was in the words great admiration for
the madame’s sagacity and shrewdness. In
Tobe Tinchman’s estimation, there were few
smarter women in the West, or on the footstool,
for that matter.

Although Dinsmore’s hands trembled from the
fear that possessed him, he still wished to give a
favorable turn to the discovery.

“Admitting that it’s Benton! What does it
prove? He followed us fora month or two, ten
years ago or more, and we thought he was then
piping this particular business. And we were
mistaken. He wasn’t after us, at all!”

“ But he was, major! Who else was be after,
pray?”

“ Not on account of this business, anyhow!
I’d give a penny—”

“ To be able to knife him!” Tinchman gritted.

“ Let me finish my sentence, will you? I’d
give a penny to know what he is up to!”

“And I’d give a. thousand dollars! Yes; ten
of them! That is, if I could head him oil! in his
plans, as well as know what his plans are."

“ Better give me that ten thousand, my—”

“ Dinsmore, you’re a fool!” a hot flash sweep
ing to her face. “ You never was anything but
a rattlepate; and I’ve been another fool for—”

“ Grant it, my dear. But we’ll be fools no
longer. Take your side of the case, if it pleases
you. This man is Benton, the detective—one of
the sharpest, shrewdest men in the business.
He’s here for us. A number of years ago—it
would make us seem too old if I should say just
how many—we got hold of a little pile of money,
and Were not very scrupulous in the taking of
it. And there were same children mixed up in
it, and a valuable estate, and a good deal more,
that, as I’m not dictaiing a book, I’ll not take
the trouble to rec0unt. Say that all this is so,
and that that is what brought him here. My
dear madame and my ever-true friend Tobias,
what’s to hinder us from ringing in a cold deal
on him! Beating him at his own game? There
never was a man so great that he could not be
over-reached, and never was there a plan so
carefully laid that it could not be thwarted.
We’ll fight the devil with fire I”

The air of banter vanished from his tones as
he proceeded, to be replaced by that of intense
earnestness, The indolent. manner had gone,
too. In fact, there seemed to be a sudden and
complete change in the man’s physical and men-
tal make-up. His brows were knit and his eyes
flashed as he made the final resolute declaration.

’ It could be seen that Major Dinsmore might

pro Is a worthy antagonist for any man, if once
thoroughly aroused.

This change was pleasing both to the madame
and to Tinchman. The madame was hot ac-
customed to follow anybody’s lead, but Tinch-
man could not advance a foot without the
piloting of a stronger mind. He could carry
out and tread down, though, in his rough, harsh,
heartless way; and no work wastoo stem or too
perilous for im tovundertake, if there seemed a
necessity for it.

“You’ll have a chance to do some of thatI

kind of fighting! And before long 1”
In this the madame expressed her sincere be-

lief.
Yet there were man things to show that
Dinsmore’s first view 0 the case might be the

correct one. The fact that they had committed

‘ some crime in the 10:5 ago, for which they were

still wanted, combin

with the other fact that
Benton, the detective, was in t0wn, scarwa
appeared to warrant the conclusions to which
they had leaped.

But guilt is ever fearful, ever sees danger
lurkin in the mast unsuspicious circumstance.
ever fl es at the first whis r of ril. And so
it was now; and so it will to t o and of the
Calendar.

“ It won‘t be the first time we have done hard
lighting,” Dinsmore replied, to her last state-
ment. “And Benton won’t be the first man to
wish he had let us severely alone l_”

The stern, ominous silence with which this
was greeted by the madame and Tinchnisu was
more eloquent of danger to the medicine-vendor
than a multitude of words.

 

CHAPTER III.
man 1117an AT norm.

Om the door of one of the stairways leading
.into the building wherein the talk was had be-
tween the woman and the two men, was a small,

gilt sign. hearing this inscription:
“ MADAME MURIEL,
_ ' Claimant.”

l

_ «Mr v

 

There were constantly in all the papers, also,
advertisements. after this fashion:

‘ MADAME MIVRIEL, Clairvoyanl:—Foretells the
future. Finds lost mono and treasure. Brings
together lovers. Teaches ow to win the affections
of those of the opposite sex. Directs how to cheese
a suitable partner in life.

daughter of a sewiith daughter, and.gift- d with
true pr vphetic foresight. Call on her at her rooms,
155 Laclede street. No publiCity.”

As may be imagined, such claims had some
weight with the more ignorant of the people of
Mineral Gap; and she was especially sought by
servant iris from the restaurants and kitchens,
and cregulo'us miners and workingmen, and
was even visited by gamblers whose belief in
luck amounted to superstition. These latter, as
a rule, cared nothing for her fortune-telling
powers, being mainly anxious to know what
were their lucky days and what games it would
be wisest to bet on.

On the morning after her conversation with
Dinsmore and Tinchman, Madame Muriel was
seated in her den at the head of the stairway
which led upward from the gilt sign. There
were other rooms back of the one in which she
was seated; and all were furnished with a rich-
ness that had scarcely a parallel in Mineral Gap.
Mirrors peeped out in odd places from among
the gorgeous hangings, and in one of the rooms
be and a small fountain played musically.

he madame herself, it not literally “ clothed
in purple and fine linen,” was arrayed in a way
to put the glories” of Solomon to the blush. With
silks and satins made up after the latest Parisian
design with roses in her corsage and in her
hair, her appearance was well calculated to
strike envy to the hearts of the ignorant girls
who were in the habit of calling on her.

The rooms had been darkened, and in them
burned what has been termed “a dim religious
light.” This was for the purpose of heightening
the general eflect she desired to produce, and of
giving a sem blanco of weirdness to the grotesque
statuar with which the place was lavishly
adorn . There were many naked Cuplds dis-
porting themselves in various unnatural atti-
tudes: and there were Bacchuses, Satyrs, and a
whole colony of figures from the mythological
Greek. '

The center of this weird and singular display,
the madame was as weird and singular as any-
thing there. A circlet of gold, or gilt, rested on
her forehead. And n0w, as she heard a ring at
the door, she grasped something that looked like
a Neptunean trident, and composed herself in
state in a throne-like chair. ’

A small boy flew from some unknown quarter
to open the door and usher in the visitor.

The madame’s stillness relaxed when she saw
who the caller was. It was a waiting-girl from
an eating-house not far away, one of the ma-
dame’s familiars and assistants.

There was nothing remarkable in the appear-
ance of this girl, save a certain sliding gait in-
dicative of fe ine instincts, and a cat-like way of

ring from the corner of her eyes, which
eightened the similitude.

As soon as she saw that the new-comer wu
not one demanding her professional services,
the madame tossed the trident down carelessly,
and sought a more comfortable chair. In this
she leaned, in a lounging attitude, as she looked
closely at the girl.

“ 1 was sure it was some one wantin to know
how to get back a lost lover!” laug ing in a
quiet and sarcastic way. “ The fact that there
are lots of fools in the world is a good thing for
us, Louise. Otherwise, we would be like Othel-
lo, our occupation gone.”

With a smirking smile the girl sunk into a
chair, and bearded admirineg at the woman be-
fore her. She was obviously conscienoeless as
the madame, and therefore saw much in her to
envy and imitate.

“ Jones has lost the gold ring that he bought
for his sweetheart," said Louise, with a sly
glance out of her eye-corners.

“ Ah! 1 know Jones. He is the porter at the
hotel over there, near Your restaurant. What
was the ring worth i”

“ Not over a dollar!” and the r1 snesred. at
the same time feeling in the poo st of herdress
and producing the ring in question.

Madame Muriel beamed eooouragingly.

“ You’re a jewel, Louise ” taking the rin and
turning it round and round to examine it. ‘ It’s
worth more than a dollar, though. Mr. J
the porter, ave fivs dollars for that if he gave
a penny. 150 must think a good deal of this

rl of his!”

“The madame Was an expert in estinnting the
value of such articles, and this ex rtness did
not come solely from the fact that e disported
a large amount of ewelry herself.

“ Faugh!” and also gave her nose a su
cilious toss. “ If I should ever have a fe w
who would present me with such a ring as that,
I’d givs him his Walkingqmpersl”

“ Diamonds for you eh? Perba Jones’s
sweetheart isn’t so high-minded. I it hadn’t
been worth as much as- five dollars; though, it
wouldn‘t have paid on to take it. I’ll have to
charge Jones two do are for telling him where
tg’fin’d it, and of course you’ll want a dollar of
t to ' '

 

!
l

)ladaiiie Muriel never v

fails 111 he;- prognostications: being the swenth  viuusly looked at her.

 

It was plain that there was a complete under-

: standing between these two; a partnership, in

fact, for the purpose of robbing the servants of
the neighborhood.
“ Have you noticed, Louise, that there have

been a good many robberies in the city lately?” '
looking at the girl as slyly as the latter had pre- ’

There was an undercurrent of meaning in
the question which Louise did not catch, else
she would have returned the glance with one
equally covert. She had not noticed anything
out of the ordinary in that line, for there Were
always more or less robberies.

“ The major says they are gmwing very fre-
quent. There was a big one last night. sup-
Bose you heard about how the store of Satin 8;

lush was entered, a lot of goods taken, and all
the”money the thieves could lay their hands
on

The surprising familiarity with the details of
the burglary evincedby the madame would not
have passed unnoticed by every one though
Louise did not attach any particular meaning
to it.

She was aroused, h0wever, by the madame‘s
next sentence.

“ I think I know who did it!”

The girl’s manner was the biggest kind of an
interrogation point. The madame's statement
premised food for gOSsip, and of this Louise was
inordinately fond. Perhaps the burglar was
none other than Jones, the porter!

“ You saw the singer on the street last even-
ing? The fellow who was singing songs and sell-
ing medicine?”

Louise could scarcely conceal her disappoint-
ment. She had no interest in the sin er, and
she had a very lively interest in Jones. he had
never revealed it to the madame, but she was
bitterly angry at the porter for preferring an-
other girl to her Winsome self.

“ I feel sure that that singer was the very
man who committed the robbery,” the madame
impulsively continued, not noticing Louise’s
lack of interest.

She did not condescend to give her reasons
for this sweeping char , cementing herself
with simply making it. also had always ap-
parently acce ted her words as the embodiment
of truth, an Madame Muriel saw no reason
why she should not now. She did not seem to

’take into consideration the fact that Louise was
cognizant of many things on her part which
were little less criminal than burglary.

“ I intend to set a trap for that follow,” and
the madame interlaced her fingers thoughtfully,
and rocked backward and forward in the big
chair. “ There will be more money in it Louise,
if I succeed, than there is in tellin people where
to find rings that we have taken im them and
hidden for the purpose!

“ You are acquainted with the manager of the
omega-house, at the corner of Nugent and Robin-
son

The corner indicated was that on which the
medicine-vendor had erected his torch the pre-
vious night. There was a huildi there boast-
ing the title of the Opera-House lock, and on
the second floor of this building was the commo-
dious hall known as the Opera-House. It was
only a dance-hall of the better order, but drew
in eaudiences ever night.

he manager spo en of by the madame also
ran a saloon and gambling-hall on the lower
floor, and paid much more attention to these
than he did to his boasted Opera-House.

There had been rumors to the effect that
Major Dinsmore was largely interested in these
mu tifarious ventures, and that his money was
really the support and prop of these institutions.

~

It may have been this fact that caused the .

madame to turn her thoughts toward the Opera—
House, or it may have been because the medicine-
vender had chosen to set up his torch on that
corner.

“ Go to the manager,” the madame said, when
the girl had confessed an acquaintance with
him, “and tell him that, with his permission, 1
will sing there for him to-night.”

The girl was struck with amazement at this '

novel proposition.
an excellent voice she knew, as also did many
people of Mineral Gap. On many occasions the
madame had chosen .to advertise herself by an
exhibition of her' "killing" wardrobe and her
voice. Yet she had nev r sung in so public a
place or so questionable a one, as this hall.

“ on don’t see just what I’m driving at!"
and the madame laughed behind her hand. “ It
concerns this street singer. Of course he will
come to hear me. He can't help it; for I shall
take away all of his crowd; and when he comes
I hope to learn something of him."

On the surface the madame’s idea
solely to the singer’s’sun connection with
the burglary at Satin & lush’s: and there was
no way by which the girl might know that it
had far deeper import.

When the girl had duly promised to make
such arrangements as were necessary to enable
the madamo to singat the hall that ht, the
subject of the ring, and kindred top was

resumed. .
“ It will be safer I think to give the impression

that this ring was not stolen,” looking at it-

Thst Madame Muriel had ‘.

 
 

  

 

l

4

\ .

Singer Sam. the Pilgrim Detective.

 

 

.again so that she could describe it perfectly, and

passing it back to the girl. “ I don’t want the
idea to get out that this section around here is a
den of thieves. We will make Jones think he
lost it.”

The cat-like crafty look had again come into
the eyes of the servant.

“ Hide it in the corner of the lot, soit may
look as if he had dropped it there; and when he
comes to me, as he will before night, I’ll tell him
juxst what he has lost, and where he may find
it

“ And so we advertise our business! My dear
Louise, if it wasn’t for such as you, we clairvoy
ants and fortune-tellers would have a hard
time.”

Louise was ready to go; but before she did so,
the madame closely questioned her concerning
a number of superstitious servants, and others of
like character, whom she half expected would
visit her within the ensuing week.

And having gleaned the field as thoroughly as
possible, and outlined other work for her crafty
assistant, the madame dismissed her: and then
sat down like the spider in his parlor waiting for
the unsuspecting fly.

CHAPTER IV.
AN ACT OF HEROISM.

THE medicine-vender, who had already be-
come knewn to the town as Singer Sam, was
inialkin his way along the street, just at night-
a .

 

i proceeding to the place where on the previous

\

I

5

night he had set at} his torch. The box con-
tained his guitar. he torch and his supply of
medicine had been left at a store near the cor-
ner.

He was evidently giving himself up to some
serious reflection, for his brows were knit, and

. muttered words, that were, however, indis-

tinguishable, fell occasionally from his lips.
Notwithstanding this, his keen eyes searched

. constantly the crowd that surged by him.

A clatter of horses, hoof 3, a whir-r—r of wheels,
and a scream attracted his attention.

A carriage was driving by. As he looked up,
drawn by the sudden, sharp cry, he saw Madame
Muriel seated in this carriage. On the driver’s
seat in front was a negro, who was at that
moment sawing on the lines of the plunging

that was half sarcastic sat on the
woman’s face, even as she peered out beyond
the pounding boots to, the shapeless object that
had fallen to the dust of the street.

A boy or man it was hard to tell which, had
been near the line of the carriage’s route, or
else had attempted to cross in frent of the ve-
hicle, and had been knocked down by the horses.

Singer Sam pushed the box against the build-
ing, even though to do so was to risk its destruc-
tion, and leaped toward the rearing horses.

In the short time given him he had not failed
to note the look that rested on the w0man’s
features. He could not understand it at the
time. Future events were destined to bring
clearer knowledge. "If he had been called on to
say what the look denoted, he would have de-
clared unhesitatingly that it was a heartless in-
difference, or a wish to sacrifice the life of the
one who had fallen.

There was no time for such thoughts, nor for
any thought save that which gave no supreme

/ im ulse of the moment.

‘ ‘ things before the coming of the man, for-whom

he scream had caused a sudden stopping of
the hurrying thron and a blocking of this
avenue of traffic. T are were others there im-
pelled as was the street singer, but none so quick
n decision or so li ht of foot.

While the blac driver was’ still t ggin at
the lines, for the horses seemed unma ages 1e,
Singer Sam darted to the side of the prostrate
form, threw back the threatening horses with a
powerful wrench, and effected a rescue.

Lifting the lim form, he bore it from the

street; while the arses, touched by the n ’s
whip. dashed furious! away, neither the d ver
nor the occupant of t e carriage appearing to
care to make any inquiries concerning the ate
of the one who had been run down. .,
, There was a drug store near, and into this the
medicine-vendor carried his burden a throng of
the curious followin him. This had scarcely
been accomplished w u there hurried into the
room a man, whose every action denoted intense
anxiety and fear. ' ,.

By the aid of the light, Singer Sam could now
see that the one he had rescued was a youth, or
young man, on whom the hand of affliction
seemed to have been mely laid; for the young
man was a hunchback. This deformity was
concealed in a large measure bya cloak which
the youth wore; but it was revealed fully, now
got the cloak had been disarra' aged and throwu

ck.

He had deposited the youth on the floor,
intending to call for restoratives. It was a
calm, placid face tha looked up at the ceiling,
though there was no ight of consciousnessin the

eyes. A face pale and almost girlish in appear-

once.
Singer Sam had barely time to notice these
the crowd gave why respectfull

* ' Even in the confusion of the moment 

‘ ‘5‘! i >Ii"nl".'.y.‘,- 
vii me.  '4 t in, Qéi. ;. ,7, .4, ,i «it: Eflkfié

e had a box under one arm, and was .

  

 

medicine-vendor caught the name of the new-
comer, as it was whispered from lip to lip.

At the same instant, too, the eyes of theinjured
lad opened, as if consciousness had returned
with the coming of this friend.

This indication that the lad’s injuries were
not of a serious character was hailed by the
man with a cry ofdeliglit; and he caught the
youth to his breast and hugged him with almost
ra turous joy.

hen he lifted him tenderly to his broad
shoulders, as if to bear him away. Before doing
so, however, he turned to thank the rescuer.

Singer Sam had disappeared, having stepped
outside to look after the welfare of his beloved

uitar, not deeming that his presence would be
onger required.

He more than half expected to find it gone, for
Mineral Gap was not noted for the honesty of its
citizens. But his suspicions hnd wronged them.
The guitar-case was there, just where he had
left it. He had no more than had time to ascer—
tain that it was still uninjured, when the rum-
bling of wheels again drew his attention.

He smiled cynically when he saw that the
madarre’s carriage was returning, and also saw,
by the aid of the electric lamps, the madame
herself leoking out from the carriage in an anx-
ions and inquiring way.

The negro drew the horses in near the curb-
stone; and the madame, catching sight of the
medicine-vendor, smiled beamingly.

“ My goiid fellow, beckoning to him, and
wreathing her face most attractively. “Will
you be so kind as to tell me how the dear little
fellow is that we run Over a while ago? It was
(fl. lllllosg untoward accident! It cut me up dread-

u y!

Singer Sam did not notice the coin which she
held in the palm of her hand, or he might not
have advanced in answer to her summons.
Others were crowding around the carriage, too,
and be mentally resolved not to be the hind-

most.

“ He’s all right!” he declared, dofllng his rusty
silk tile, and sweeping it downward in an elabo-
rate bow. “ My dear madame, the young-’un’s
as chipper as a medder lark. Had a little bark

elei off a corner of his cranium; that’s all. A

iottle of my Magic Cure, ma’am, will glue him
t ether in a jiffy. I was jist a-lookin’ to see if
1- ad a bottle of it with me, and fortunately I
have.”

~He slipped open the guitar-case, thereby dis-
closing a small ackage containing a few bottles
of his vaunted l niment.

“ This world is a. world of accidents! When
you’re up you never know when you’ll be down,
and when you’re down you never know when
you’ll be up. A fellow may ride on the wave of
prosperity to-day, and tomorrow he may be in
the bottom of the gutter, with his head bu’sted.
So I always carries the truck with me.”

All this was said with the most artless sim-
plicity imaginable, and as if it was the most na-
tural thing in the world for him to look at the
woos of humanity in that light.

“ I am so lad to know that no serious injury
was done l” adame Muriel purred. “ I so feared
the boy had been hurt beyond recovery.”

In 'makin this statement the madame falsified
most egre ously. She Wished it to be under-
stood that er return to the place was due solely
to anxiety, when in fact her anxiety had little,
if anything, to do with it. She had come back
principally to see and speak to the man whom
she believed to be the detective, Benton. She
was anxious to. meet him face to face, and if
possible ascertain if her suspicions were cor-

rect.

Althoughshe glanced over the crowd while
talking to him, her gaze was fixed chiefly on the
street singer: which would be only natural, as
her remarks were directed sole] to him.

She now for the fist time n hired whothe
ho was, and although Singer m could not
on i hten her another a he u in his behalf:

“ t’s Cece Manden, om endereon‘s chum.
The hoes give him a rett heavy lick, but I
guess he’ll come out all) rig t. Tom's a-gittin’
ready to carry him home now.”

Tom Hendemn was the name Singer Sam
had heard applied to the man who had rushed so
excitedly and Impetuously into the dru «store.
The speaker’s words caused the singer turn
about; and he now beheld Henderson Ste pinlg
from the drug-store door, bearing the lad n h s

anus.

This seemed no task for Henderson. Who was
herculean in build and stren th. The white
face of the injured youth loo ed whiter than
snot—decidedly ghastly ~under the electric

re.
“ ydear sir, allow meto thank you for our
kindness!” the madame cried, in a voice and
enough for all to hear. “ Truly, you have my
heartfelt thanks.” '

Then, before Singer Sam was aware of her
intention, she held a gold coin aloft, and dropped
it—not into his hand, for that was not extend-
ed, but into his open guitar case. The jingle of
it was plainly heard by all.

Before he could protest or attempt '50 retimi
it, she motioned to the black driver, and the

cord ewhirled aw . _
‘1‘“; “M "‘y es; that;de anyhow

hi

,i

  

 

Singer Sam exclaimed, looking at the coin as if'
he was not wholly pleased at being the recipient
of this bounty. ‘ hat woman must have took
me for a milyuuaire. Money comes tumblin’ in
to the rich without ’em ever a-tryi‘n‘ for it; but
if the pore man gits a dollar, you bet your
boots he’s got to hustle! It’s the way of the
world: and I always was lucky i”

In spite of which, it was plainly apparent that
the street singer was not at all glad that the
golden eagle had been dropped into his guitar

case.

He pocketed the coin with as much sang from
as he could muster, closed the case with a snap,
and turned toward Tom Henderson, who was at
that moment pushing his way through the
throng gathered about the door.

Henderson recognized him as he came near,
having already heard who was the boy’s rescuer,
and he stopped for an instant to express his
thanks in a few low-spoken words.

“ I think I’ll go along with you!” Singer Sam
asserted, suitin the action to the word. “ I’ve
got a little lii iment here that ’ll fetch your
chum around in a way most beautiful to behold.
Likely you’ve heard of it? It’s my Magic Cure.
Let me give him a bath of it, and it won’t be
ten minutes till he'll be singing as lively as a
frog in a freshetl’”

He ‘shook the guitar box until the medicine
bottles rattled, and began to sing, as on the pre~
vious night:

“ ’Tis not for your filth y liicre,
’Tis not for your tinkling tin:
"I‘is not for your ready, your rhino, your stamps,
That I travel this vale cf siiil
’Tis the good I can do my fellows [—

“ That‘s just what it is! You wouldn’t catch
me a—meanderin’ over the planet the We I'm a-
doin’, if I wasn‘t a- leasin’ myself by ringin’
whole chunks of g to whole chunks of people.
And for that reason I’m gifing home with you i”

“ I’m glad to hear it,” enderson declared, as
he trudged on with his burden. “I can’t say
that I’ve got much faith in your truck—beggin’
your pardon! but all the same I’m glad to have

on go home with us. Cece is all right: or will
he as soon as I can git him where I can ’tend to
him proper. He could walk now if I was to set
him down. But he’s shook up a bit; andI can
carry him a good deal easier than he can walk.”

There was the kindest sympathy expressed in
the tone and manner—a sympath that between.
these chums seemed more than rotherl ; and
Singer Sam as he listened to the we 8, and
watched the 'big giant as he walked sturdily on,
could not but wonder at it. \ _

“ Cece and 1—1 call him Cece though his
name is Cecil—live in an old roo ery up here
a ways. Hain’t much of a place; but you’re
welcome to it, stranger; as welcome as we are
ourselves. Our beds are not of the best, and our
cookin’ ain’t quite so good as you can git at
some of thesa ’way-up hotels; but it’s what it is,
and as good as we can make it.”

The “ rockery,” as Henderson had termed it,
was not far from where the accident had occur.-
red, and it required only a few minutes to reach
it. It was a crazy sort of a building, though
not what would commonly be called a rookery.
None of the houses in the town of Mineral Gap
were old enough to deserve that title.

Henderson pushed the door open with his foot,
invited his visitor to follow him, and,.marching
in, deposited Cecil Marsden on a cot in the big
front room. Then he struck a light.

He had already given'an examination to the
young man’s injuries, which he now repeated.

There. wasadazed look in young Marsden’s
eyes, as if his mind had not ully regained its.
balance.

- Singer Sam brought out a bottle‘of his Magic
Cure and applied it liberally to the injuries on
the young man’s head.

It seemed to act as a sleep-producer, for in a
short time the outh’s deep breathing told that
he had dropper; into slumber.

“Now, about this woman, whose carriage run
over the young chap?” the medicine-vendet-

ueetioned, as he set the bottle on ashelf for
urther use in case it should beheaded. . “ That
was mainly what fetched me down here—
tho'ugh of course I was anxious to see if the
onng fellow was bad hurt. I suppose you
ow the w0mani” ,.

He had removed his rusty hat. having de-~
posited it top-side down on the floor, and now
ooked earnestly at Henderson. ‘

There was at this moment in Singer Sam’s
countenance an a stance fif earnest, though

uaint cur osi . t WIS 8110 an appearance as
gnight’be (in In. face of one who had been
piqued by the gift of the coin and was seeking
for a in 0d by which he might repay the
humiliating gift with interest. _

And this was the turn he really gave to his
inauirieo.

You see that?" drawing out the coin, and
hoidingit up fer in tion. at thensame time
explaining how be ad come by It. “That
there woman knowed I didn’t want mone for
doing a thing like that. Great heavens! _ ,r
song say that I hain’t hankerin’ after any
k like this? And she knowed it as well“ I

 

 

my
true

‘do., She didn’t give it’jm‘me 

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" Singer Sam,

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the Pilgrim Detective.

'a'   w '.‘.~t'. ""rr‘

5

‘—__.

 

wanted wreward me, but for the effect it would
have on the crowd, and onmel Now tell me
jist who she is, and what she is?”

To Tom Henderson, the request appeared a
reasonable one, under all the circumstances.

“ “76”. she ain't a Woman you’d need to be
proud of makin’ an acquaintance with. She’s a
fraud of the first water. She calls herself
Madame Muriel, and she’s a fortune-teller, and I
think is the Wife of a man known here as Major
Diusmore. Which is the blackest of the two,
her or Dinsniore, it would be hard to say. Both
of ’em ureabout as bad as they make ’em. if
anything, the woman is the smartest; and, be,-
cause of that, may be worse than her parduerl"

It was time for Singer Sam‘s nightly appear-
ance on the street: and, after a few further
words, he took his departure, promising to call
again tosee how Cecil was getting along.

He had obtained the information which he
sought in following Henderson home; and as
HendersOD seemed likely to be a person able to
aid him. be resolved to continue the acquaint-
ance so suspiciously begun.

 

CHAP YER V.
“Tait DIVINE DIVA.”

SINGER SAM had passed more time at Hender-
sou’s than he had been aware of. When he
emerged from the building and made his way
down the street toward the point where the ac-
cident had occurred, he found that the hour was
already so late that the crowds of homeward
bound men on which he counted for his audience
had already disappeared.

Nevertheless, he continued on past the drug-
store to the point where he had set up his torch
on the previous evening.

He counted on the fact that the workmen
would soon return from their ewnitig meals, and
that he could then gather them about him with-
out difficulty.

But he was Soon made aware that another and
greater attraction had been offered to the peo-
ple of Mineral Gap. That was the singing of
Madame Muriel at the “ Opera-Hour.”

It was quickly evident that while he would be
able to gather a few about him, he could not
hope for the crowd he had had on his first night.
The majority of those who had then lingered to
hear him were already hastening to the hall to
hear “ the divine diva,” as she had been christ-
ened in the notices which had been so lavishly
distributed about the town, and which had also
appeared in staring letters in the one evening
pa er

inger Sam was not all embittered by the
fact that the people of Mineral Gap preferred
the singing of Madame Muriel to his own. He
reasoned, and with much Correctness, that they
were drawn as strongly by curiosity as by any-
thing else.

Therefore, he blew ouathe torch which he had
lighted, stowed it and his medicine in the store
wnere they had remained during the day. and
with his guitar-box under his arm strolled in
Elie direction taken by those who had passad

im.

He was as anxious to hear the “ divine diva,"
and to see her, as was any one. More anxious!
For none of those who were to listen to her that
night could have half the interest in her that
Sin er Sam had.

hen Singer Sam reached the hall, he found
it well packed by a surging, noisy crowd. The
madame had not c0unted without knowledge in
thinking that her fame as a vocalist would draw
the amusement-loving multitude of Mineral Gap.
Her singing was not to be the only attraction;
but it was what was most anxiously looked for-
ward to.

Singer Sam, gaunt and somewhat stooping,
with that evar-present air of decayed inspect-
- ability, removed his tall hatas hepassed through
the doorway, and crowded forward to obtain a
desirable seat. .

Those were nearly all taken, but after a time
be secured a place near». the center of the hall.
He had scarcely done so, when another came in
and ueezad into a chair at his side. This was
Tobe inchman. -

"I guess I‘ll have to swear of! on singin’,”
Singei Sam observed. with‘ a tinge of sadness.
" This here kind 0' business is jivt everlastin’
rough on the medicine racket. Only had an
audience of three ho a an’ a lame pup out there,
and I couldn‘t radar to waste good truck on a,
measly pu d the boy! was that health they
didn’t I:
up here. When does the leine—eh—what-do-
you-call-heb—begin to sling her music?"

If he knew Tinchman, or had any true idea of
the character of the man, he made no sign.

“ I don't know jist when she’ll begin to
splurgel"Tinohman nverred. a great admiration
for the madame evinced in his tone. “ She’s a
:honey, thou ,b. when she do git started; an' I
know you'll ike her. _

“ By the WSY. 810": 37011 the fellsr what filled
the boy out from under tinker-ridge wh 3 this
even'iu 1”

An answer was prevented by the thunder“

in places that at that moment shook the house-
curtain had risen. and thodfvlnb divs was
gliding upon thogtsgo in her mongluklnggwsy.

 

.n‘ u I l

as medicine. So I thought I' come.

  
   

 

Opera glasses were in instant demand, many
there being anxious for a closer View of the
creature whose beauty had been so highly laud-
ed by the evening paper.

if these were doomed to disappointment, they

ave no sign. Behind the footlights, Madame
uriel was really a handsome woman. Her
coarseness had vanished in a great measure un-
der deft applications of paint and powder. The
harsh lines of her face had been subdued or
completely eradicated.

And as for dress! She was a dazzling and be—
wildering sight. She was clothed in some
creamy, sheeny material that set ofl.’ her plump
form to perfection; and her arms and throat,
which were bare, had by some skillful treat-
ment changed from their natural reddish tint to
an alabastrian whiteness.

In one hand she carried a roll of music, which
she contrived to manipulate in a way to add to
the general efl’ect of her charms.

The applause was long and continued, as well
as deafening; and Singer Sam was given abun-
dant Opportunity to closely study the woman
who was bowing and smiling before him.

Queer specks of light gleamed within the
depths of the pupils of his eyes like paints of
fire. He never removed his gaze from her, but
stared as if desirous of reading her inmost
heart.

As for the madame, if she noticed him sitting
there, with Tobe Tinchman at his side, there
was nothing iii her manner to denote it.

“ Hain’t she's. Jim Dandy ?" Tinchman whisper-
ed in his coarse way.

There was no reply to this; and Tinchman
subsided, as the madame began to sing.

Singer Sam was obliged to confess to himself
that Madame Muriel had a full and musical
Voice. She had selected a catchy piece from an
opera poipular at the time, and sung it with fire
and spit t. '

At- its close, she received an encore, which was
repeated, and ,twice she returned to the foot-
lights, amid the plaudits of the assembly. .

But it was all over at last;and when it was
known she was not to sing again that night, there
was a general stampede for the door, for the
performance to follow had grownto be to the
habitues of the place something of ti “ chestnut.”

At this moment, while all was surging tumult,
a cry arose for Singer Sam.

It was started by Tobe Tinchman, and taken
up and repeated from lip to lip until the hall fair-
l y rocked With the calls. - o

The manager of the place made his appear-
ance on the stage; and. rubbing his hafnds to-
gether asked if the gentleman called for would
be so kind as to favor the ladies and gentlemen
with one of his songs.

Although not visible the hand of Madame
Mu' iel was back of all this, and directing it.
She had her reasons for wishing to see and hear
more of the stranger.

Although Singer Sam seemed slightly abash-
ed by this sudden and vociferous demand, he‘
was b y no means unprepared for it. He had come
there expecting to be called on for something of
the kind.

He got upon his lfeet in response to the
manager’s invitation, and bowed as politely as
the madame had done. to the storm 0 applause
that greeted him.

The people of Mineral Gap, or the rtion
there represented, were in for a “time ’ that
night, and were bound to have it.

The appearance of the medicine-vendor, as he
drew himself up in the Center of the hall, was
provocative of merriment. He was gaunt and
ungainly, dressed in a ston far from suitable for
the occa'sion,’and the dry, half-humorous. half-
pathetic look On his face was indescribable.

“ Gentlemen,” and the medic-ine-vender comb-
‘ed the fingers of one hand through his scant?
heard in a hesitatiug way, “seems to me it ain’t
jist the fair thing to call on your humble servant
after such a. treat 0' opery as that. Compared
with such eflorts. my sungln’ is like the growlin’
of a bull-frog alongside of that 0’ angel veices'.
Gentlemen, it was scrumptious! immense! My
dictioaary hain‘t got but a few words in it, or
would say more. V g

" As for me, you know mei If you don’t,
likely you never will. I don't profess to be aniy-
thing but a pilgrim and a stranger tarry 11’
among you for a night or two-i—me be for a
week or two, or longer, if business glts good.”

There was asubdued snifer in his tones that
was almmt touching, and lifting his hands he
seemed to Wipe away a tear with one of the
hard knuckles.

“Busineq hain’t been good with me lately,
though last night I had hopes. Tonight, you
fellows all come here. an' my hot-es tonk a tum-
ble, 3'30, everything do ads. I’m here today
an’ eto-morrow. Benetmy mission is todo
Wind it I can’t sell you,medicine, I’m will-
u' to aingyou a song!” '

He cleared his throa and tamed toth the

, who had furnis ed the accompaniment

oil-the madame’s singing;
“ I’d ask you mopon t at there box and hang
out a few for, me, only that I writ as words
and muslcfor this thin laminar"! Lhnm’t got
“kw, «abutment 4 '  t '
a ..

   

   
  

 

its box, gave the strings a few preliminary
twangs, and was about to sing, when the mana-
ger invited him to come on the stage.

“ Beggin’ your pardon! but tbeui lights would
rattle me!" still twanging the guitar. “ Besides,
I hain’t got my stage dress on. Thankee, I
think I’d prefer to stand just here i”

Again he swept the strings, the house became
quiet, and he sung:

“In the long. long ago—~when the world was light
and free—
As the_ mocking birds that warble through the
air;—
ln 8. pi'etfiy Eastern home. sweet as ere did ever see,
There iiv.d and loved a "( man. wr ndrt us fair.
Her heartit was her husband's, by their children
only shared.—— ,
Two babes were these, a bright-faced girl and

y;__
And their life so pure, with Eden can only be com—

pared: _
And tj e ‘passmg days Were filled with sweetest
oy.

“ But evil fell upon them—It was a cruel fate!
The father passed beyond earth‘s stormy sea:
And the mother, anguish-stricken, bereft and deso-

late.
Sobted out her heart in bitterest agon l
Thus lrft without protection—the fe despoiler
camel
From out their once sweet home those babes were

torn, ,
And. cast upon a dreary world, with but a blasted
name.
They 1;i:')ziiidered from the home where they were
rn.

“ One ODE] now is left :—and far from friends and
iii 1

Yet the author of this crime holds high his headl
And with his boarded gJins covers up the tell—tale
stains
Of his wrongs against the living and the dead.
Still. a wise God reigns above, and there‘s good upon
the earth.
And-as sure as J us'ice rules the globe around,
The rightlwill loudly call. the sword of vengeance

fa
And this monster will be stricken to the ground!"

There was so much weird pathos in the song
—such a wailing cadence iii the notes, that the
vast audience, at its conclusion, sat as if hushed
and oppressed by fearful memories. There
was no en‘cors. nothing but a deep sigh that
stirred through the crowd as if a sobbing wind
had SWept over it. None but a singer of won-
derful pow er, one who had a mastery of all the
finer effects to be producod bv music, could have
so wrought upon that audience. It was an
exhibition of the singer's art far superior to
anything contained in the operatic trills of
Madame Muriel.

The madame was not unaware of this unex-
pected result of the medicineovender’s effort.
The stage curtain was down; but from behind
it she had peered. watching the singer with en-
ger eyes, and with strained ears drinking in his
every utterance. . ‘

If the effect on the crowd was wonderful,
that produced on the madame was more so.
There had been a half smile on her lips while.
Singer Sam was twanging his guitar, but this
faded awa when the song began: and, as the
story slow y unrolled in that indescribany af-
fecting way, the change that crept over her fea-
tures was startling.

A scared, frightened light. came into her eyes, . 3
her lips whitened in spite of the rouge which ' '

had been so liberally applied to them. and her

thinly-clad form shook as if seized with asud- 

den ague. . ,

She had angled to draw Singer Sam to that
place, and in doing so had overshot the mark.
She had anticipated nothing like this. Believ- .
ing that she could force from him somee m- '
aim or action that would serve to revea

for such a revelation.

She crouched there with uivering form and ‘ '

palpitating heart until the t, note died awn r
em she was made aware of the impressivesti - “
near; that had fallen on the audience. Then she
laced her hands upon her ears and buried her
ace against the stage curtain as if to shut out
all sights and soundsfwhile sh
the tumult that raged in her soul.   ;
She was aroused from this position by a step ;
behind her, and by the noise made by the rising  ‘-
autlience. ' '
The step was that of Major Dinsmore. His
face win

them in those of the woman.

“ It is be!” she whispered. with a hysterical ‘

up. “ It is Benton!

mistaken last night!” i .,
Dle-il‘e did not at once reply. but drew the

cumin sli htly and looked out on the noisy asc'

ssmbly. w ich was already moving toward the   ' 
door. Singer Sam stood erect. his guitarstfil in i ‘-

his hands, staring after the retreating crewd in

a puzzled manner. as if wondering whyhs  ,

not been asked for another song.

The ms was beforethe curt-initiating , -"
inofl'ectual attempts to stay the moving tide by. '
announcing others customs. ..  '-'.

“Yes. “3 Benton!" said Dinamors. ‘tu 
hacktomthsr’still-knseling woman. “ And he. .,  

.l

 

his -" .
identity beyond a question, she had not looked V ' "

e struggled with I -;

also white and drawn, and his 0 as 
reflected back sometliing'of the horror w h‘ ,
' x

thought I couldn‘t  V

 

   
    
  

 

 

'Dutton’s fiery exclamation. ‘

l girl, but

\ I’m only a slave here.

I * you! And 'ou know it!

 and vexatious creature, Laura
, tell you that! And I can tell you more: If it; Ground

6

CHAPTER VI.
LAURA DUTTON.
Manx-.11: MURIEL sat in her spider-like den,

on the following morning, waiting as usual for ;

her prey.
The madame had not regained her customary
elasticity. She was moody and depressed. The

shadow of something terrible seemed to be hang- ,

ing m er her, which she could not shake off.

She was petulant, also, and fault-finding; The
boy who waited upon her and answered the
rings at the door, and who had been as regular
in his coming as clock-work, was not there; and
the madame had chafed herself almost into a fit
of nervous prostration because of it.

At any other time, so small a thing would not
have disturbed her equanimity. But her nerves
were at their highest tension; and it required
nothing scarcely, to set them in a flutter.

She had not been able to rid herself of the
forebodings produced the previous night by the
song of the itinerant medicine-vendor. The
words, the air, all clung to her with distressing
persistence. If she closed her eyes for a moment,
the flgur of Singer Sam a peared before her,
the gui r in his hand, an his voice raised in
that dispiriting, wailing song.

“ Laura!” she shouted, her voice keyed to an
unnatural pitch. “ Laura! Come here! That
miserable boy has dropped dead on the street
somewhere, I guess. I hope he has, at any
rate!"

Extreme irritability was manifest in the
Words.

When Major Dinsmore had stated, two nights
before, that the madame’s impetuous rush up
the stairway made him think one of the ser-
vants was coming, he had meant it asa jest.
They had no servants, in the ordinary accept-
ance of that term.

The young woman whom Madame Muriel was
now calling could scarcely be said to ban ser-
vant; for, although often treated as a Servant,
and forced to do a servant’s work, she was recog-
nized as one of the family.

“ Laura Duttonl Are you coming? If you
don’t hasten your footsteps I shall feel com-
pelled to go after you !”

In response to these repeated summons, Laura
Dutton made her appearance. ,

She had evidently came up fronf the kitchen,
for there were traces of flour on her hands.

In spite of this, however, and the added fact
that she was dressed only in calico, Laura Dut-
ton was a pleasing and good-looking young wo-
man. The fresh rosiness of her complexion, the
sparkle of her eyes, "and the air of bounding
health so visible in her, distanced the madame’s
false color and accentuated pretensions to youth
so far that there were no comparisons.

“ Here I have been waiting for you an hour!”

the madame complained, lying glibly, as she
caught the unsuspecting girl by the hair, and

gave its painful tug. “Why don’t you come
when I call for you?”
Laura Dutton had no reason to fancy the
madame’s pieasantries, but she was evidently
not prepared torso brutal an assault as this.
She was a girl of spirit, too, and the angry
color flamed hotly into her facs. She removed
the madame’s hand with much forcefulness, at
the same time giving the madame’s rotund form

such a push that the spiteful woman came near

measuring her length on the floor. '
“Take your hand out of my hair!” was Miss
I came as soon as
I could—as soon as I heard you!”

“ You’re a lying little minxl” was the ma-
dame’s rejoinder." “ Go out into the street, .will
you, and see if that boy is in sight!” '

Miss Dutton was about to flounce from the
mom in high dudgeon, when she was checked by
the a pearance of Major Dinsmore.

“ ajor, that girl has been assaulting me!”
the madame declared, furious with wrath.
“ She struckme just now !"

Then, as if anticipating a denial :‘ ‘

“ You did, you hateful thing! You did!
You did!"

The ma or lifted his hand as if tostrike the
rew back when he observed the un-
vontod light in her eyes.

Just at that moment it would not have been
safe for the major, or the madame, to have
tried personal chastisdmeut on Laura Dutton.

“You’re an ungrateful hussy!” he asserted,
choosing words as his weapons instead of blows.
“ Is 'that the way you treat the madame, after
all she has done for you—after all 1 have done
for you?"

“You haven’t done anything for me!” was the
defiant reply. “ You make pie think you act
toward me as it I was one o the family. and yet
You owe me more, Major
Dinsmore—and so does the madame—than I owe
Both of on!” '

Madame uriel was almost res y to cry from
sheer vexation. Major Dinsmore was not given

', to any weakness so purely feminine. That he
5 fan toward the gir
, r madame was shown, however, in the fierce'look
‘ a _ he bent on her.

very much as did the

“There’s to be rebellion in my own house, I
,Y on are getting to he a , vs till-tern
u ton.

   
  

  

.' r».
.. a. “4.2,: . ~_
«'5 t v .554'.‘vy'4.~¢if)

Singer S

  

 

I continues, you will go out of this house, and

never set foot in it again!"

This bitter language was hardly justifiable by
any past acts of Laura Dutton’s. She had real-
ly been too meek and too unresentful. Her sud-

den exhibition of temper that morning was some- I general,” smiling demurer at him.

thing uncommon—so uncommon that it startled
both the madame and the major.

The girl was silent for a moment under the
man’s threat.

am, the Pilgrim Detective:

I

[ blowed him away. But the madame! That’sa
3 heifer of another pedigree. I’m actually afcard
i of the madame!”
“ if your courage was equal to your word,
Jim, you could get an appointment as a. major-
“ You‘ie a
brave man—in your own estimation.”
“ Speakin‘ o’ majors,” squinting at her, and at:
the same time putting a Lig piece of. tobacco in—
| to his mouth; “the major up there didn’t have

That these two were in a quarrelsome mood I an thing to do with this, now, did he!”

Laura could plainly see, and she had no desire l
to draw down on her devoted head unnecessary l

he nodded her head affirmatively.
“I jist knowed he did. I’ll be the death of

wrath. him yit. You tell him so, will you? Tell him

“ You ought to go out of here,” the major con- I that I’m preparin’ to lay for him, with a big
tinned “for your treatment of the madame last i bowie-knife and six revolvers. An’ l’ll do it too,
night!” if he ever so much as puts the weight of his lit--

“ What did I do?” in a subdued voice.
The major caught at this change, and thun-
dered SCOWlingly:

fl om the madame last night!”

It was a charge so unjust and so unreasonable!
Laura Dutton had listened to the singing at the
hall, and had not applauded the madame’s trills,
an offense, as she n0w learned, in the eyes of the
gallant major.

She (lid not know that this charge was only a
pretext to hand his spite upon. He was coming
:10 hate Laura Dutton, even as the madame hated

er. _

There was a flash of defiance again in the girl’s

eyes.
“ I did not applaud l” she declared. “And I '

should not applaud, if it was to do again. If
there’s any consolation in that, Major Dinsmore,
you're welcome to it.”

“ And you smiled approvingly when that vag-
abond singer arosel” the madame snapped, vi-
ciously.

This was a remembrance hateful to Madame
Muriel. ‘

“ I diJ !” ~

She had drawn herself up to her full height,
and now glared defiance at the pair.

“And more: If you want me to go out of
this house, I can do it. I don’t know where I
should go, but I feel sure I could find a home
somewhere.”

She did not know that this was the last thing
they desired her to do: and as the icture of
herself, desolate and lonely, wandering he streets
of Mineral Gap in search of a home and shelter,
rose before her fancy, she could no longer resist

.the feelingnof weakness that was creeping upon

her, and dropped into a chair and sobbed. ,

The madame and the major looked at each
other and smiled. It was a victory such as,
at. the beginning, they had scarcely hoped to
ma.

Feeling now that they had crushed the irl’s
spirit, they proceeded to pour out the via 8 of
their wrath on her devoted head; and in much
distress and humiliation, after threat had been
added to threat, she was remanded tothe kitchen.

CHAPTER VII.
A FIRE-EATER or run HILLS.

“WELL, dad-gust me! If the gal hain’t a-
crvin’!” ‘ ‘

base were the words which greeted Laura
Dutton,as she set foot once more within the
kitcheu’s sacred precincts. -

The exclamation came from a. blow-hard
cowboy known asJim Bass, who was one of the
privileged hangers-on of the place.

The kitchen was one of his favorite lounging
spots, for Jim Bass, in the depths of his swelling
soul, fancied himself in love with Laura Dut-
ton.

There was no reciprocal attachment, for
Laura Dutton was as far removed mentally,
and in most other ways, from Jim Bass, as it is

siblo for such a girl to be. '

Siill, there were many things to endear him
to her, after a friendly fashion. In spite of his
porencp of word and manner, his heart was really
fill with the kindest of sentiment for her. She
knew that he was only deceiving himself in
thinking he loved her, and so paid lttle heed to
anything he miizbt say on that subject.

“ A-waslin’ all of your beauty in tears!” draw-
ing ,i’iimself up dramatically. “Well, dad-gust
me!

He appeared to be unable to find any other
expression sufficiently strong.

Miss Duttou wiped away the tearswith a cor-
ner of her apron, as she saw Jim Bass standing
b‘efore her, and caught thi repeated exclama-
t on.

“If they? anybody been abusin’ot you, jist
p’lnt ’em out to me. Jist p’int him out. I say!
an’ I’ll perceed to chaw his neck tell he’ll think
he’s been gored by a Texas steer. Jist 9"“
him out to me!”

He advanced as if he meant to place his arm
about her in a protecting wa ; but she eluded
the sweep of the arm and ran augblntly ‘0 the
other siddof the kite en.

“ It was Madame Muriel!” laughin again.

“ Well, , dad-gust me! Madame uriel! A]
foller’d need to have teeth of mm to tackle that
crester’o neck! -I thought ’tws’s a. man! If it
had ’a’ bean. do know what I’d ’a’ done? I’d

on
everlastin’l ’aY pnIVerized him into dust,
in
,‘5 3 .~

powder !

 

    

   

tlest finger on you.
“Do you know what I come hyer for, this

I mornin’?”
“You had the audacity to withhold applause } I “I don’t know. Jim BaSS, and Idon’t care.

I

Vhatever it was, it won’t amount to anything.
You talk and talk, and that’s the end of it.”

“ I guess you don’t kn0w me, yit,” dropping
heavily into a big chair. “ My name’s Bass!”

“ Tell me something I don’t know.”

“ Did ye ever hear of Sam Bass, the great Tex~
as cowboy? The biggest man in the whole coun~
try, from the Red River to the Rio Grande and
from the briny to the Staked Plains! I’m a
linyul descendant of his."

“If he could tell bigger fihs than you, he must
have been a powerful man!”

“ he come to T -xas in his youth, a cowboy for to be:
A better hearted teller you'd hardly ever see!”

Jim Bass chose to reply to her aspersion with
a couplet from his favorite song, a song he never
tired of singing, for it was one that recited the
interminable and glorious adventures of the man
whom he proudly proclaimedasa kinsman—Sam
Bass, of cowboy fame.

“That was me uncle,” he said, squinting at
her again. “ You’ve heered that song?”

“ I’ve heard it till I’m tired. You’re in n sing-
ing mood this morning. You must have been at
the O ra-House last night.”

“ 1’ 1 tell you what!” putting aside an immedi-
ate re ly to this. “ If you’ll promise to marry
me, I’ i go up and whip the major this blessed
minute! Dad-gust me, if I don’t! What do you
sayl Matermony and murder! I can do him
up inside of ten minutes, an’ it won’t take more’n
a half-hour longer fer us to git hitched. Mater—-
mony and murder! What do you so i That
won (1 make a beautiful headline for t 6 news-
papers to-morrow!" '

" I say that you’re a fool l” -

“Come! Come! Don’t be rough on a teller,
when his intentions is good. Yes; I was at the
Opery-House last night.

“ And that’s what brought me hyer, though I
come near forgittin’ it.”

The traces of tears had vanished from her
eyes, and she now looked at him questioningly,
though she only anticipated one of his boastful
outbursts.

Before roceeding to further enlighten her, he
drew his Face into a very wise and knowing ex-
pression, and winked most solemnly.

“You heered that song last night? The one
slung by the medicine-man! Did it put any new
ideas into your furrid, beneath themiiangs? If
it didn’t, you hain’t as smart a gal as i’ve took
you to be!”

Helookeil at the door which led to the stair-
way and the rooms above, to see that it Was
closed; and not satisfied with this survey, got up
and peeps-d into the corridor. Then, as if the
condensed wisdom of all the ages was resting on
his broad shoulders, he hitched his chair close
up to the girl’s, and whispered hollowly, putting
a hand to his mouth to act as a speaking-tube:

“ That song had a meanin’. A meanin’
higher’n the mountains and deeper than the
sea. I saw the madame and the major,.after
the show was over and if you’d ’a’ saw ’em,
you’d he felt jist as i do.” -

It seemed to please him to make his words and
manner as mysterious as posSihle.

“I heard t esong! What was there in it to
make such a bugaboo about?"

“ That’s what I’m a-goin’ to tell you. But
first! If 1 bring you a fortune, will you marry
me? I allow that will suit you a heap sight
better than if I’d immediately perceed to chaw
up the major. What do you say? If I bring
you a fortune?“ .

“ Jim Base, what are you drivmg at?”

“ If I bring you a fortune?’ he persisted.

“ No, not if you bring me a dozen. You don’t

 

    

want me, and I don’t want you. You think
you do, maybe, but 7°“ don’t!”

“Ho 1 may never slay another man it it.
ain’t so! I ain't foolin’ about this fortune biz-
negg, either. It’s there, and it’s yourn, and I.
can t it for you i”

H, tit, than! and we’ll talk about marrying
afterward !”

He draw back with an injured alr-

“"I‘ain’t_every girl would fly in the face of
be, best interests. A fortune haiu’t to

what I’m a-speakin’ of.”
“Go on and tell me about it!” impatiently. .

 

I It .. 

he
at—especiallya fortune like this hyer l

  

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  the Pilgrim Pet

 

 

it? If you do, you’ll see that it fits the major

and the madame, and you I”
She uttered a little gas

thin that greatly pleased ass.

5 into his pockets; and, with mouth hall~open. as
of astonishment, a ‘ . _
; professing to be lost in admiration of some

“ ou’ve told me more than once that you ;
didn’t know where you wns born, ner anything L

about yerselfl
major and the madame, like one 0’ the l'umbly,
as ye may say! Where did they git you?
Where did they git the gobs and gobs 0’ money
that they have? Tell me where?”

He drew back, and impressively shook a fore-
finger.

“ Where?”

“ You tell me!” her cheeks aflame.
sure Idon’t know!”

“ Of course the song didn’t tell the hull his-
tory of the thing! But the major and the
madame, some time or another, managed to get
hold of you and of a fortune with you. And
didn’t do it straight! Did you ever have a bro-
ther?"

“ I really don’t know!” and her face grew un-
commonly serious.

.“Of course you did! Don‘t you know the
song said: ‘a brightfaced gal and boy?’ You
air the gal, and you’ve got a bright face, and
t’other’n was your brother. And there comes in
the song ag’in: 'Oue only now is leftl’ Don’t
you recollect it?”

He was so taken with his subject, and so en-
thusiastic over his discove y, that he could hard-
ly contain his emotions. His face beamed as
red] as the sun at sunset.

“ ad-gast it! There’s a fortune there, for
you, Laury. A fortune and a husband. l’ll git
the one, and you’ll git the other—-an’ in that
way, you‘ll have both! What d’ye say ?"

“ For I’m

 

CHAPI‘ER VIII.
A PAIR or ECCEN‘I‘RICS.

AN hour later, Jim Bass was peering up a
stairway in a business part of the town.

Laura Dutton had not acceded to his desires
that they should be married forthwith; but, like
the sensible girl she was, had said that if there
wasa fortune in store for her she would be only
too glad to he put in possesaion of it; and that if
Bass could secure it to her, he would earn her
undying gratitude. Gratitude was the strong-
est term she would use in this connection; and,
though wholly unsatisfactory to Bass, he was
forCed to be content with it.

The loud-talking cowboy was really in earnest
in his belief that he had discoveréd the true solu-
tion of the medicine—veuder’s enigmatic and
pathetic song.

Buss Was not the only man who had thought
the song a recital of matters of personal history,
of which the singer had some, even if second-
hand, knowledge. The ve way in which Sing-
er Sam delivered it, tende to this conviction.

Absorbed in this new pursuit, the cowboy had
gone direct from the presence of Laura Dutton
to search for the singeNf the song.

Having caught a distant glimpse of him, he
followed him, only to see his swinging coat-tails
vanish up this stairway.

Biass looked at the sign above the door. It
rea< :

“ PAUL Roscoxuon,
“ Attorney-at-Law.”

“I think I know that fellerl” squinting up at
the sign. " Dad-gust me! Yes! It’s the young
law-shark that was mixed up in that case down
to the court room t’other day. He’s as sharp as
a brier, too! I wonder, now, what the old
psalm-singer wants with him?”

His curiosity was so great he could not hold it
in check. He had none of the fine sensibilities
of the true gentleman, and hence regarded
eavesdropping as a venial offense.

After looking up and down the street two or
three times, to make sure no one was conin
whose destination might be that office, he slip
up thestairway with cat-like stealth, and ap-
gied an eye to the key-hole of Roscommon’s

oor.

Singer Sam was seated in the office, convers-
ing in low but earnest tones with the young
lawyer. In spite of this 0 rvable earnestness,
however, the odd air of t simplicity still
clun to him.

“ think you understand the case, now,” the
listener heard him say, “and If you think you
can help me, I’m shore I’ll be powerful
glad of your services. I’m a stranger here,
and n pl rim”—a humorous ileum; from the
eyes—"an Ineed a man who news the ropes
of the town.”

Roscommon was standing by a desk,
some papers in' a large envelope.
slipped into his pocket and took up his hat.

“Scat u the would a... whispered, with-
drawing from his position and retreatin swiftly
down the stairway. “I might ’a’ knoc 8d and
made him think I was coming to see him on
p’tickler bizness of in own i"

The fact, though. t t be had not framed any
gratin for such a all caused his precipitate

i .

hen.Roscommon came down thcstairway
and out into the street. Jim “ was standing

acin
n. it

And byer you air with the‘

‘ but a silence that you could hear from here to

 

on the pavement, with his hands thrust deeply
if he saw him with that instead of his or is, was

horses attached to a carriage near at ham.

Roscomnion scarcely gave him a glance, but
continued on his way.

He was no sooner out of sight than Buss was
again climbing the stairway, this time intent on
a bit of conversation with the stranger still in
the office. ’

Having gained the door, he pushed it open,
and looked in as if searching for the young
lawyer.

“ Out, eh? I was jist a-lookin’ fer that feller
fer to pulverize him! He owes me ten dollars,
and not a blamed cent Will he pay! Dad-gust
him!

“I say, you’re the feller what slung that
music at the Opery-House, bain’t you? Of course,
Icouldn’t be mistaken. Scch a voice! Sech
a twang—twangin’i”——holding up“ his left hand
and drawing the fingers of his ri ht across an
iuiagiuarystrin ed-instrument. “ twasgreatl”

A curious smi e distorted the face of the medi-
cine man.

“ It must have been!” nodding is head nfiirm-
atively. “ It paralyzed the w ole audience.
Not one of ’em could so much as cheep, when I
set down. No flower! No bouquets! Nothin’

the lains. Yes,'it was cr-rentl”

“ hey was that overpdwered they couldn’t
say nuthin’!” Bass protested, sinking into a
chair and beaming adrniriugly on the singer.
“ Why, dad-gust it, yes! Take my own cnse, fer
instance. I set there, jist a-chokin’ with teurs,
and couldn’t saya word. My heart was a foun-
tain and my head a public pump. Never had a
thing tech me so in my life!”

A smile that was childlike and bland came to
the face of the “ pilgrim and stranger." He got
up from his chair, squeezed a tearinto each eye,
and, creasing to where J 1m Bass sat, took the
hand of-the cowboy, and moved it slowly up and
down as if the man were indeed a pump and this
the pump-handle!

“ Stranger! I freeze to you. You’re the fu’st
man I’ve met that has seen any beauty in that
there pieceo’ mine. You’rethe fu‘stman! And
I spent a month a-constructin’ of the words and
a-buildin’ up of the music. And when I de-
livered it, it fell like a lot of rotten apples on
frozin ground! Plunk! But, sir, you can ap-
preciate genius when you meetit!”

He forced out another tear, gave the pump
handle a final upward and downward move-
ment, and retreated quietly to his seat.

Jim Bass was perplexed. He had hoped to
draw the medicine man into a discussion of the
son . But he was not to be thus baffled.

” es, it was good! Don’t think 1 ever heard
anything gooderl Do you know. now, that I
thought that that song wasn’t jist quite like
other songs. There was a—a—meanin' to it, as
you may say! You sung it as if your hull giz-
zard was into it. As if yer grandmother, er
some of yer friends, had died suddent—like.”

“My songs always have a ineanin’l” the
singer affirmed, hugging one knee with both
hands, and rocking himself slowly to and fro.
“Always a meanin’. You remember the one
beginnin’, ‘ ’Tis not for your filthy lucref’ That
one hasa meanin’. I, scorn inone as the dust
under my feet. If I was rich, sir, ’d give away
my medicine, free as water!” -

“But the other song!” Bass persisted. “ It
was soo‘eal, so mournful! It made the tearsrun
into my boot! until I thought my little toes was
drawnded. Wasn’t there a meaniu’ to it, now!

“ I think I know the very identical chap and
the very identical gal that that song was meant
fer! I’m a-preparin’ to marry that gal, an’ I’m
a- oin’ to murder that chap fer abusin’ of her
this mornin‘! And which his name is Major
Diusmore, and the gal's is Laury — Laury
Duttoni” '

Singer Sam had good control of his facial
muscles, but he could not resist a slight start at
Bass’s statement. .

r The cowboy noticed this, and took courage. .

“ I jist know I’m on the right trail in this hyer
bizuessl” beginning to boil over with exuber-
ance. “ I’m on the right trail, an’ I’m n-goin’ to
foller it to the eend. ’m a-goiu’ to have that
fortune fer my future wife, or bu’st my b’iler
wide open a-tryin’! '

“ A while a 0 you was a
’re a locomot ve!” the m
ed

mp, and now you-
icine-vender observ-

, dryly.
“ But about this byer bizness! I ku0w you’re
after Major Dlnsmore, and I’m after a fortune!
What’s the reason we can’t hitch teams! Tie
our bronchoa together! Two bosses can pull
better than one, and the same way with human
critters!"
“.1! they don’t pull against each other!”
“ Certainly of course! Dad tit, of course!
lwe’d both pull together: That my idea! What
9 say? A fortune an’ a weddiu’! The com-
m "or of crime a-d in’ at the stake, with aknifc
jabbod through his iver. . Rod lights and slow
curtains! ’Twould do for the stage! What d'yc.

ctive.

 

so i” '
gu- wu workin jhimsalf almost into a fever
of enthusiasm, and‘ it touched him inc tender

 
    

spot to observe that Singer Sam did not respond
with a fervor «quail to his own.

“I hain’t sed, yit. that my song had any
special meanin‘!" still nursing his knee, and give
ing to his body that melancholy and monoto
nous swing. “ There’s crime and sufl‘erin’ in
this world, an' in that reSpect the song was
truthful. But 1 hain’t confessed that I Was
a-shoctin’ at any particular bull’s-eye l”

This denial did not satisfy the cowboy. He
believed that Singer Sam was indulging in a bit
of gentle prevarication.

“ You never had set-h a chance to git a side
pardner like me!” boastl’ully. “ You don’t know
me, or you wouldn’t put me off that way. I’m
a linyul descendant of the original Sam Bass.
Jim Boss is my name.”

“ Very happy to kn0w you, Mr. Bass,” again
rising and giving the cowboy’s hand that pump-
handle shake. “ Very happy! My name’s Sam
Johnson. Come around to my singin’ to-night.
and for fifty cents I’ll give you a bottle of medi-
cine that’s wu’th its weight in gold!”

Bass scarcely heard these words, so intent was
he on making good his own claims.

” Yes, sir; Jim Bass? and if you want a man
to cut and carve, to dirk yer enemies and slay
your foes, and wade in seas of crimson—in be
half of the right only! Remember that! Only
in behalf of the right!-—Jim Bass is your man !”

Singer San: smiled at him from his chair, to
which he had once more returned.

“ Yes, sir; Jim Bass is your man! For a foc-
tune and a nerldin’! I’ve already entered inn
a contract t i kill Major Dinsmore; and if I add
two or three more to the list, ’twon’t make any
difference!”

He had arisen in his excitement, and was wav-
ing his hands by way of emphasis, when tin
door opened and Roscommon returned.

The effect was like puncturing a wind-bu
with a pin. The loud-mouthed cowboy collaps
with startling suddennesastammered an apology,
and picking up his hat hastened from the room.

 

CHAPTER IX.
A DEVIL’S A'r'rrnim'.

NU'I'WITHSTANDING he had been foiled in ht
effort to draw Singer Sam into a declaration on
the subject uppermost in his thou hts, Jim
was so taken with the idea that e had hit on
the true meaning of the words in the song, that
he returned almost immediately to Madame Mu-
riel’s kitchen and to his amorous talk with Laura
Dutton.

He was as voluble in his threats against Major .
Dinsmore, but contented himself with stabbing
that gentleman at long range; never once think-
ing of ascending to where he might be found
and putting the threats into instant execution.

Laura knew that Bass’s vaporings were harm-
less, and time and again told him so; but th'l
did not stop the boastful flood. '

After he had talked the girl “ blind, deaf and
dumb,” as she herself ex it, he again
went into the street in search of the. medicine
vender.

He did not find him, but he stumbled upon a _
piece of information that he deemed somewa
astonishing.

The medicine man had taken n his abode bo-
neath the roof occupied by Tom enderson and
Cecil Marsden; and had, so the information ran,
become one of the family.

It was well known ow these chums lived,
though iow such a pair had become attached in
each other as chums, was not so well’ known.
Cecil Marsden, because of the weakness pro-
duced by his deformity, was not strong enough
for manual labor, and so had taken on himself
the duties of caring for the house and preparing
the meals. Henderson worked in one of the
mines; and the money he earned was the support
of their joint establishment.

“ Tuck the singer in with’eml” Bass muttered, r
revolving this piece of knowledge over and over
in his mind in an endeavor to extract something
from it. '

Only one thing was plain: and that was that
if he desired to again see and converse with
Singer Sam, his chances for so doing would b!
a mented by haunting this house.

efeared to do so during the light of da _;
and accordingly 5 v ned his visit to
vicinity until short y a for ni htfall. ‘

It would be possible to see intger Sam on tin
street, when he made his ni h a nce,
but the chance for a talk wi him then would
not be good. Bass preferred to meet him with-r
in the walls of a house, and sit with him face I}
face, as he had that morning at mmon’s.

Slipping along in the direction of thecrazy
building which had so recently become tin
singer’s home, Jim Baa, somewhat to his amou-
ment, saw another form gliding along before
him in the some surreptitious way.

The darkness was too deals for him to main
cut either the form or face; but the fact t \ a
the man before him see to be using too ' '
so similar to his own greatly piqued his cum-

osi . >

15’s feared to reveal himself, for that would In
to f hten the unknown from his inten '
and was anxious to Ins-n what those
section might be.

. ‘

 

.1" ..

      Detective.

 

   
 

That the man was going t0ward the same
house could not be doubted, for he had left the
street and was headed in that direction, and
there was no other house near. He was also
taking advantage of some shrubbery to conceal
his movements.

“ Well, dad-gast me!” giving utterance to his
favorite ex ression. “ That jist sticks me in the
mud. Cant flounder on to solid ground no-
 wheres. What’s the feller a‘dririn’ at?”

5' There was a lamp burning within the house,
but the light came through one window only
faintly. It was observable that the unknown

was taking precautions to avoid the rays of this.

 ‘ amp.
 , Bass quickened his footsteps, though he did
 ' not decrease his Caution: and suc ed in
' gaining somewhat on the other. He was not
many paces in the rear when the man reached
the house.

“ 1 do believe it's Madame Muriel's nigger!”
with a low clock of surprise.

This discovery, if it was a discovery, tended
to increase his nervousness, and also his careful-
ness. It was morally certain, he thought, that
Madame Muriel’s “nigger” could have no
,, reasonable excuse for so approaching this house.
53"" Even as he looked and Wondered, he saw the
negro stoop down and disappear beneath the

cor.

“ Gr-eat J ehoshaphatl"

With this ex ression of supreme astonishment
he darted light y to the side of the building and
peered under it.

He was satisfied the negro was bent on incen-
diarism; and be had! expected to behold a pile of
shavings, and the negro with a match lighted
ready to touch to them. Instead, he only saw
the blackness of utter gloom.

" Couldn’t expect to see an Ethiopyun in a
hole like that!” was his thought.

He was painfullv aware, though. that if he
could not see the Ethiopian,iit was probable that

‘ " V the Ethiopian could see him.

.v. , There might be danger, too; and, slipping
" " back with remarkable agility, he flattened him-
:l' self on the ground and at the same time drew
' - out and cocked a big revolver.

. “ If he makes a dive at me, I’ll fill his hide so

{1; '. ' full of holes that it won’t hold shucksl”
In spite of his wordy braggadocio, Jim Bass
, i was by no means the coward one might think.
M Hr.- fought most of his battles with his mouth,
it is true; but he had been knewn to engage in

more deadly combats.

He had little fear of the negro, believing that
most blacks would run at the first show of peril.
Much as he had been about Madame Muriel’s
. _ establishment, he had yet to come face to face
ii ‘ with this sable serviter.

‘ ' Lmking under the house, he could see noth-
ing, hear nothing. Yet he knew the man was
there. He had beheld him Va nish at that point,

I, and he did not think there was any other way
’ of agrees. r
, With ostentatious deliberation, he loudly
~ clicked the cylinder of his revolver round and
round, and called out in a voice that was tremu-
lens, in spite of his efforts at self-control:

, “ e out 0’ there, you black vagahonel
, v I Come out: er 1’]! open on you tell ou’ll think

it.- " the very sky is a-rainin’ bullets! ump yer-

’ , self! If you don’t, an' mighty quick. you’ll

~‘l ‘ ’. think avolcano is broke loose!”
',  ' He was so
' , , Almost be ore he‘had time to think, the no.
ro made a lunge at him. The black had not
i ’ n'two feet from him during all this time:

' and, seein that discovery was inevitable, was

 ’ determin not to be taken without an effort.

, ,  Jim Bass dropped his revolver, and tumbled
i “  back with a howl. The very suddenness of the
. assault quite unnerved him. Nevertheless, he
i ' ' (made a grab for the negro. thinking to hold him

’ 1 until his shouts‘should bring help. -’
I The negro was ng a bundle,‘ which be
,, now let fall- for the purpose of being better able
" to defend himSelf.
, »"the cowboy’s grasp, delivered a heavy blow, and

. darted swiftly away in the darkness. .

‘ Bass. fell backward again. bellowed with pain,

; for the negro’s hard fist had caught him full in
 Vibe stomach. ,

,As soon as he could sufficiently recover his
breath, he Sent u a number of additional bowls,
which had the 6 act of summoning the inmates

, of the house. 1

1‘ ‘ Henderson was the first to reach him. He

.-   bore a lamp in his hand. ‘

 " What’s the matter. hare!" he inquired.

f i ” Had the dad-gastedest flgbt on record!
i‘Kuncked the teller clean out of time, and iben
‘   he got awn from mel. If you’ll bunt around
.i of,» area! thin you'll find about threefourths of

' f s, scalp. sn’ the hull .of his clothing. 1 heerd
t;-  pomethin’ drop, anyhOw!’

He had scrambled to his feet, and 'was new
- lacing Henderson, panting and very much ex-

 

 

 

 9

.   _ vCecil Marsden was at Henderson’s heels, and
“u gigbiml him Singer Saint These crowded closer

,. , A, the exclamstor cowboy.

iii”  .“ Who wastit

; din t in a breath. " What was he doing here?"

 

  

if'hs'

was, but it bsin’t safe in say what he was as

rised at the result of his demands. .

He wrenched himself from.

Henderson‘snd Cecil asked, ~

“. ow you’ve got/moi I think I know who,

   

 

doin’. I think, though, he was a-tryin’ to burn
yershebang!”

He threw himself back with great dignity,
thrusting his thumbs into the arm-holes of his
vest and extending the fingers outward.

“I’m of the p’inted opinion that if I hadn’t
come jist when [did all three of you fellers
would be a-roastin’ now, like so many thanks-
givin’ turkeys. He had his match lit, and every-
thing all ready. Shonldn’t be surprised if you’d
find a can of kerosene under there!”

There is no telling how long these puffing de-
clarations might have continued, for Jim Bass
dearly loved an appreciaiive audience. He was
even willing to forego the gratificntion of his
curiosity, for the pleasure of it. But Hender-
son cnt him short by pushing the lamp toward
the building, and commencing a search.

A chorus of indignant astonishment arose.
The lump-light revealed some mysteriouslooking
packages on the ground. There was also a short
ength of fuse.

" It seems more like some one had been trying
to blow us up!”!” Henderson declared, picking
up these articles and close] examining them.

“’Twas the nigger!" dyim Bass exclaimed,
unable to longer withold this
“’Twas Madame Muriel’s nigger. Sech a fi ht
asI had with that fellerl See if you can’t nd
a piece of burnt match around there _somewhere.
He had it litl”

Henderson was handling the packages very

ingerly, not knowing what they might contain.

:iss‘s statement that Madame Muriel’s negro
had been at the bottom of the attempt came as
a surprise to him, though it was not a surprise
to Singer Sam.

With a keen-bladed knife, Henderson cut the
cords and removed the paper from the packages.
Enough blasting powder was revealed to have
wrecked the building and blown its inmates into
eternity.

The four looked at each other with scared,
pallid faces. The attempt had been so dastardly
that words could not be found to fltly char-
acterize it.

Jim Bass came to the rescue, however. He
could always find words for anyytbing. And
now that they were inclined to listen to his
tragic story, he drew it out in full. He ampli-
fled every detail, and worked his imagination to
its greitest extent. (

If there had been one there who was not
familiar with Bass’s weakness, that individual’s
blood would have been made to run cold. But
Bass was too well known in Mineral Gap to
have any of his utterances taken literally.

“ Come into the house, and we’ll talk it over!"
said Henderson, leading the way, and thus cut-
ting Bass short in the midst of his most thrilling

information.

episode.

This suited the cowboy. It would give him a
good opportunity to dilate at still further length
on his terrific fight with Madame Muriel’s ne-
gro; and he might also obtain a chance to brunch
to Singer Sam the subject that had brought him
there.

 

CHAPTER X.
DINSMORn’s wmns.
AN hour later, Jim Bass, with his big revolver

again bul 'ng’ in his hip pocket, Was on his way-

back to adame Muriel’s establishment.

The result of the conference held at Hender-
son’s was that nothing was to bedone openly,
for the present, at least, in regard to the negro’s
diabolical act.

Bass was in great good humor. The result of
his interview with Singer Sam had been partial-
ly satisfactory, though he had not been able to
worm any admission from the medicineman.
He had been given to understand, though that
Singer Sam expected to direct some heav blows
against the madame and the major. 'lhis ac-
corded with the theory that Bass had worked
out. and so satisfied him of its correctness.

He made his way into the kitchen of the house
as usual, but instead of finding Laura Dutton
there, he encountered Major Dinsmore.

The cowboy was filled to bursting with his (is-
sire to narrate to Laura his late exciting adven-
tures. To have his volubility thus repressed
hurt him.

" I was just thinking of on," the major said,
looking at him in his blan , oily way.

" Oh, you WIIB. was you? You couldn’t ’a’
found anything better to think of. You hain’t
driv that gallaway by any 0’ your abuse, now,
have you!” ‘

He bristled aggressive] y and dropped a hand
to his hip pocket. ‘ - ,

The major laughed sarcastically.

“ No, I haven’t done anything of the kind.
Likely she‘s gone down to hear the medicine
man.‘ .

“’Cause if you had, I’d feel under oblifltions
to put, a bullet into yon. That gal belongs to me
Me or Dinsmore, and don’t yen fergit it! An’
don t ’low nobody to go to puttin’ a rough hand
On her. You hear me ‘ ‘

The major paid ‘no head whatever” these
frothlngs. . r i

“ I wanted a talk with you," as coolly and un:
concernedly as it Buss had not been threatening
him. “Come up so my room, will you, where
we won’t be in

vu‘m‘ insmore‘s meaning;

      

 

danger of being overheard!"

“ I nacberly chawed up one man to-night, and
I’m jist in the mood to chaw up another. If
you’ve got bizness with me, major, Well and
good: if you hain’t—why, l’in a-goin’l”

He was aching to have the major question
aim concerning the particulars of his great

glit.

The major saw this, and humored him by an
inquiry.

" Mum’s the word, major! I can’t say more.
But sech a fight I don’t think you ever did see.
It" I wasn’t bound by the interests of certain
pa’tic’ler friends to say nothin’ about it, I’d be i ;
delighted to tell you the whole story. But, dad- ‘; .
gast me, it was afight I” 4,

Dinsinore’s only response wash dry smile, as .l ,
he turned to lead the way from the kitchen. He g ;

 

felt pretty sure that it would require but little
asking to extract from Bass the whole account. _

When they wore once seated in the quiet of 1
the upper room, the major, having closed the
doors Carefully, drew his chair close up to that
of the cowboy.

“I want to talk to you about this Singer
Sum!”

Jim Bass could hardly choke down his sur-

use
p “ You would like to make a little money?" 3

Dinsmore felt sure he had thoroughly ac- 1
quainted himself with Bass’s character, and I
thus feeling he was proceeding to sound him. ,
He did not, however, know Bass so well as he ,
thought. 1

“Money is the staff of life!” the cowboy ’
affirmed, nodding his head sagely. “I dont
keer for it, thou h, as much as used to. The
truth is, major, ’m a-flgerin’ on a fortune. A
bu’stin' big fortune! As big as yours, I think!”

Even at this stage of the game he could hardly
resist the temptatiou to tell Dinsmore that it
was his fortune he was counting on. ‘

“ I’m sorry you’ve lost your love of money l”
looking at him keenly. “But a fortune in
prospective isn’t half as good as a lot of hard
cash right in the pocket. A bird in the hand is
worth two in the bush, you know!” '

“I’m a-feelin’ pretty comfortable, major,
’specially after .knoekin’ that teller out to-night!
An’ the fortuue’s a~comin’l Still,a little 0’ the
yaller right now mightn’t be so bad i”

“ I thought as much!” dryly. “ I never took
you for a regular idiot, Bass. The whole world
wants money; and the mnjoriiy of people are
scheming to get the most of it in the shortest
time; and they don’t care very much how they
get it!”

He was

 

 

-mka.‘ 4.--“...—

keenly observant of the cowboy’s
features while 8 kin .

“ This man, inger m imagines that he has
a grievance against me. ft is all imagination,
however. I met him once, some years ago, and
we had a little trouble over a debt he owed me.
But the trouble with the fellow is that he is
more than half crazy. He really ought to be in
a lunatic asylum, instead of being allowed to
parade over the Country.

“No doubt you have noticed him yourself,
and observed what a queer fellow he is in every
we, .”

Byass had had splendid chances to note the
singer’s eccentricities. For a wonder, the cow-
boy was silent. His mind was too much occu-
pigd with the suggestions forced by the major’s
w 8.

Dinsmore marked this; and, putting his own
construction on it, hurried to the point at which
be was aiming. .

“ The fellow saw me on the street yesterday,
and the si M of me acted like water to a victim
of hydrOp obia. I'm afraid of him, Bass, and
that’s the truth of it! His crazy notions will
lead him to kill me, sooner or later.”

The major’s pretense that Bin er Sam was lit-
tle short of a madman did not eceivg the cow-
boy. Bama saw that in one respect Dinsmore
spoke truly. He was afraid of the medic-ine-
vender—not becauu themedicme-Viender was an ' %
irresponsible lunatic, but for quite another
reason. ' ,

And that reason. Bass Was confident he knew. ‘

It was another rop to his theory. Dinsmore,
and Madame uriel were withholding from
Laura Button a forums that rightfully‘belonged \
to her, and Singer Sam had come‘ to inernl
Gap for the purpose of righting this wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

There were many ga in this then which Bass .
could not fill, but he lieved-he n seen enough '
already to prove its correctness.

" W hat is is you wanr'me todo, major?" break
ing what was for b m a very long Silence. “ An
what is they in lt’l’ .— r I ,

“I want you to no ins of this fellow in some ' i ‘ ;
way,” looking at him With a covertness that was .1" 
suggestive of murder. “ I don’t care what you i,
do, nor howyou do it. I don't like to’put a pro- 3 ‘
position of' this kind into plain words; and I
think, gain, yen will understand why.. This man
is a me ace to me. He threatensmynfel Why
should I care for his?" , ' ,

Tb cowboy could no lon er have any doubt
I e wily major, too
shrewd or too cowardly to himself seek the life
or-Sinsor Sam. hoped to hire Bus: to do the ’vi)
lainous work for him. ' 
, A strange, crafty expression came into BM ' , ,I
fees; such an expression ' as wasflnetiofwh m _ ,I

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.. .-.-~ .mx uneven-"ae-senu newsflash”;

 

 

 

 

 

 

9

 

 

there. He nodded his head vigorously to indi-
cate that no further words were necessary to let
him kn w what was wanted.

“ Wl t’s the amount, major, spot cash?"

\‘ If you do the thing satisfactorily,” leaning
forward with a wolfish gleam in his eyes, “so
that no evil consequences will follow it, 1'“ pay
you five thousand dollars!”

Brought face to face with this new tempts-
tion, Bass seemed a changed man in many re-
spects.

“ I’m yer man, major l” whispering the words.
“ Five thousand ain’t to be sneezed at, even when
a feller is looking fer a fortune by-and~by. It‘ll
hold me up tell the fortune comes. How shall 1
go about this bizness? Dirk him, shoot him, or
pour hot lead into his ears?”

He seemed to be recovering something of his
old spirit, as the last question indicated.

“ I’m not caring. Take in advice, though,
and don’t bungle the thing. ikely, the safest
plan would be to draw him into a quarrel. Then
you could put up the plea of self-defense, and in
gliatnway get out of the thing without any trou-

e

“But the five thousand! How am 1 to know
that I will git it?"

“ Isn’t my word good? You’ll have the thing
all in your own hands. I won’t dare to go back
on ypu, for you could turn around and blow on
me

“ And on myself, at the same time! You know
I couldn’t do that, major. ’Twouldn’t be no sat-
isfaction to me to put some other man’s neck into
a halter, if I had to put mine in too.”

9;. Callous and rascally as Dinsmore was, he
inced under these words. He had thought to
overreach the cowboy in this matter.

“ You have as much security as I have!" he
protested. “If I pay you the money now, or
part of it, how am I to know you will carry out
your agreement?”

“Give me a hundred down, major—jist a
hundred, an’ this warbler is a dead maul”
something of his old bravado reasserting itself.
“ Yes sir, he’s a dead man. A hundred, in cold
cash 1”

He did not ask for more, behaving that if he
did so he would not get anything. He had no
notion of carrying out his part of the contract.
He would not have done so, even if had had no
plans of his own concerning Singer Sam. In
thinking the cowboy could be hired to commit
murder, the major had fallen into a grievous
error.

Jim Bass’s many boasts had led Dinsmore into
this false estimate. Any one giving credence to
Bass’s frothy statements would inevitably be led
to think him a regular flre-eater—a man who
would not hesitate to slay another at the drop
of a hat. Like many a man who has a rep—
utation on the border as a “killer,” the cow-
b'oy’s claim to such a distinction rested only
on puffery.

Dinsmore arose; and, going to the draw took
therefrom a crisp one-hundrad-dollar bill, and
placed it in the cowboy’s hand.

“ There!” he said. ‘ When the work is done,
come to me for the balance, and you shall hava

the bill
on may

“He’s a dead man, major!“ stuflin
into a pocket, and rising to leave. “
bank on me I”

 

CHAPTER XI.

'rn EXPLOSION IN THE MINE.

11‘ was wonderful how flrmly Singer Sam at-
tached himself to Tom Henderson and Cecil
Marsden in the shart time since making their

unintance. The acquaintance had been made
an er very favorable circumstances; and in
such cases friendship is often a plant of quick
growth.

There was much to admire in Henderson and

en. The former was a strong, sturdy,
right-minded and open-hearted fellow, whom to
know was to like and respect. And in the char-
acter of Cecil Marsden there was much to draw
out one’s kindest feelings.

Cecil was not only bright of face, but bright
of intellect, keen-witted and glib of tongue.
He was usually silent inthe presence of strangers,
but his backwardness. vanished when among
friends. His presence in the hours was like snu-
Ihgie;—lt walrmgd amt! 

no quick y orgo e a pearance of de-
formity, and saw only the wfnsomo and intelli-
gent face. ' ‘
il's injuries had not been of a serious
ch racter. The nervous shock was felt the
longest. But he was now quite recovered from
all of it. ,

Hendemn was absent from home through-
out the day, with the exception of a short in—
terval at dinner. He was employed in the
Calumet coal mine, one of the largest at Min-
eral Gap.

Coal mining was not the only mining done
there. it was really of secondary consideration.
The sudden growth of the place had been
caused by the discover of rich silver are. BI!t
the cool industry was mportant, and employed
many hands.

Three days after Singer Sam became a mem-
ber of the Henderson household, if this term is
I l‘ l . r.. ,  v.“ I (355*.

  
  

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allowable, Henderson met with a startling and
perilous experience.

The danger surrounding their new friend was
already beginning to hang like a shadow over
Henderson and Marsden; and it may have been
because of this that HenderSon was reluctant to
leave home for the mine, that morning.

That there may have been other causes for this
feeling of uneasiness on the part of Tom and
Cecil will be Seen in the further progress of this
story.

Henderson came to dinner, and returned to his
work, without meeting the medicine-vendor.

“Be watchfull Be careful!" was Cecil’s im-
ploring caution, as this big protector of his was
again about to leave the house. “ You know how
uneasy I am all the time!”

Why uneasy he did not say. Henderson
seemed to understand the reason, without any
ex ilanation.

enderson was employed in a long “drift”
that extended at right angles away from the
main tunnel of the mine; and that evening
when he returned to the shaft to ascend, be
found himself a few minutes late. The cage,
or elevator, by which the ascent from and de-
scent into the depths was made had just de-
SCPlldeil.

He knew, however, that the car would soon
descend. There were two other men still
in the mine, he believed, belonging to the day
shift; and it would not be long until the descent
of the night force. He even looked for the
coming of a portion of these with the next descent
of the car. .

It came down empty, though; and not willing
to wait for the appearance of those still in the
mine, he entered the car and gave the signal to
hoist.

It had not ascended a dozen feet—in fact,
Seemed to have just got under Way—when a
teriui‘ic explosion occurred.

it came with such stunning suddenness and:
force that Henderson was for a time blinded
and almost paralyzed. The light in his miner‘s
lantern was extinguished, the ascending car re-
ceived a check, and he was thrown down with
much violence.

A dull, heavy crushing pain in one shoulder
appeared to benumb that side of his body.

As soon as his mind cleared a little, some idea
of what had occurred came to him. There had
been an explos‘iou in the mine, not far from the
shaft; and it must have been tremendously de-
structive.

He felt around the interior of the car with the
hand of the uninjured arm, and convinced him-
self that the shaft had become bulged or warped,
and that the car therefore could be moved
neither up nor down.

This knowledge was not reassuring. It seemed
certain that the cage must remain there for an
indefinite period. He feared he could not ex~
tricate himself from his unpleasant position,
and that it would be impossible for the men
above to reach him. He saw no way by which
he might get out through his own' exertionl.
There was a sheet-iron hood above the car,
which he could not remove and had no way to
perforate. It was impossible to get out at either
side, or at the bottom, and so descend into the
mine. '

Even in the midst of these reflections, and in
spite of the pain and personal discomfort he was
suffering, he still had time for a thought for the
men still in the mine.~ Had they been killed by
the explosion? Perhaps they were cooped up in
some drift b a mass-of debris, and were even in
a worse con ition than himself. I

The explosion had disabled or destroyed the
ventilating machine, he was certain; and the
air within the cage and shaft was already be-
coming foul. . '

He was sure the mishap was known above.. It
might be barely possible for him to be reachel
and rescued within a short time. Unless the
shaft was too badly bulged above the , he
might be reached from that direction. here
was another way into the mine, by means of a
shaft located some distance away. Long sl-
leries connected the two portions of the in ne;
and if the entrance was effected in this round-‘

about way he would be forced to wait a consid- .

erable period for relief.

He was not especially frightened at his posi-
tion at first, but as the sloquoviug minutes
creptiby without bringing assistance, he began
to realize the extent of the peril to which he
might be subjected by the delay. The impurity
of the air was steadily increasing.

The news of the disaster at the Calumet Mine
flew like wild-fire through he streets of Mineral
Gap. It was not long in aching Cecil Mars-
den, who was at the moment perched before‘ the
big cook-stove supervising the preparation of the
evening meal.

This interesting work was instantly forgotten:
and, listless, he ran from the house, leaving the
blend to burn to a cinder in the oven and the
e 8 to crisp into an indigestlhle mass. .

8 found the Streets already well filled with

hurrying people—with miners. miners’ families ‘

and their friends and acquaintances. The rumor
had got got abroad that the entire night-shift
had been in thamine at the time of the explOdon
and were hhw imprisoned there. ‘ v . v

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intp Henderson's house, and was now addressiiu‘

    

m:

Hence there were many terrified and tear-
stained faces in the throngs that were rushing
along the streets.

Queries as to how the accident had occurred
passed from lip to lip, and the wildest and most
astounding theories were afloat. Some said the
mishap was due to “ damp,” and others- to the
ignition of a vast quanty of blasting powder.

None knew; and Cecil Marsden, as Le hurried
on at his best ait, p'iid little heed to these wild
conjectures. e had been told that Tom Hen-
derson was among those imprisoned in the
depths, and every thought and feeling was cen-
tered in the intense anxiety and alarm which he
felt for the safety of his chum.

When he arrived at the shaft, he found that a
party had already gone to the entrance to the
other portion of the mine, from which they ex-
pected to make their way to their imprisoned
comrades. _

It was not certainly known now, who was in
the mine. It had already been made plain that
the night~shift had not descended; and the
greater number of the day-shift had already re-
ported.

Filled with the hope that Tom Henderson
might be among those who had come up earliest,
the boy looked everywhere for him. hastening
hither and thither with his rapid inquiries.

Henderson was not there. No one had seen
him; and, to one so well acquainted with him
as Cecil Marsden, this was proof positive that he
was still in the mine.

Henderson, in the iron cage far down the
shattered and bulged shaft, could not know
what was occurring above—what steps were he
in taken to save the lives of those below.

Some sense of feeling returned to the injured
hand and arm, and he could even use them a
little; though from the peculiar sensations in his
shoulder he believed it to be badly crushed.

What distressed him most, now, was the
steadily perceptible incréase in the foulness of
the atmosphere. A dull, throbbing pain af-
fected his head, seeming to extend down his
spine, and spells of giddiueess came to him; the
frequency of these increasing.

Although but a short time had really nlapsed
since the explosion, he felt he had surer been
hemmed in there an hour. And he reasoned
that if assistance could not reach him in an hour
it was not likelv to reach him in time to be of
any value. he vitiated atmosphere would
destroy his life before aid came.

He was not disposed to complain, being rea~
sonath sure that everything was being done
that Ck uld possibly be done. But his impatience
and anxiety, combined with the great fear that
now assailed him, engendered a condition of
panic.

The thought occurred that he might bauble to
force a way through the h. .. a over the cage; and
then work,by some means,i.o the to of the shaft.

With this in view, he took upt e pick in his
strong hand—there had been one of these tools
in the cage when he entered it-and with this he
assailed the sheet-iron of the bud. It was not
easy to reach it and make his iriows eflective,
especially in his weakened condition; but after a
time he succeeded in driving the point of the
pick through the thin iron.

This herepeated a number of times;'and by
continually battering and beating at the h
enlarged i sufficiently to admit the passage

his body.

There was good accomplished by these ex-
ertions. The‘regave direction and employment
to his mind.

He fancied he could breathe easier with this
hole in the roof of the cage; and was eating
around for a way by which he might climb out,
when the flashing of lights above drew hisat-
tention. Words, also, floated to him.

These were the first sights and sounds to greet
him, and they brought new hope and inspira- .
tion. He had not been forgotten and forsaken!
These were friends coming to hel him. .

He did not know until later aga nst what dim-
culties those above had contended. There
been a blocking of the mouth of the shaft, which
accounted in a large measure for the foulnes of
the air which Henderson had felt.

W hen the obstruction had been removed, and
the way down the shaft once more made clear. a
small cage had been rigged; and this, swinging
independently like a suspended basket, was
lvivhat Henderson now saw descending toward

1m. .

There were faces looking over the sides of the
basket-like cage, and lights were flashing from
it.

Henderson sent up a great about of exultation
and joy; and this, with his features revealed by
the lights—for he had drawn himself up to the
opening in the hood—brought forth answering
cries and cheers.

And when the honest miner saw Cecil's. face
among those peering down at him, his joy now
no further alloy.

CHAPTER XII.
SUSPIOIOUS moron-Ions.
“ P’mrnnLr, gentlemen, I think I know who
done it!”
Jim bass had but recently come from thentreat

 
  
    

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

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. major that she had sent him.

     

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10

 

his words to Henderson and Cecil, and to Singer
am.

Henderson was in bed, propped into an easy
attitude with some bulky pillows. He was rest-
ing comfortably.

Not many hours had elapsed since the great
explosion in the Calumet Mine. Much of the

Singer Sam, the

wreck and debris had already been cleared away, :

and the work of restoring the shaft to its normal .
condition was already in progress. The two ‘
miners had had a narrow escape, their principal ,
danger having been suffocation. They had been
in a f‘drifi,” where they were blocked in, and y
from which they had been rescued by the men i
who went down the other shaft. ‘
Haw the explosion had occurred was not ye
known, and it was to this point that Jim Bass
was directing his talk.
“Gentlemen, [know who done it!”
An expression of owlish wisdom overspread 1
his features, as he made this assertion and look- 1
ed from one to the other to see how it would be I
received. I
“Knowledge is power!" the medicine man i
observed, dryly. “ It is the only thing that l
makes the czar of all the Rooshias wiggle on '
his throne at this blessed minute. If you’ve‘
got a kn0wledge of this thing, my good friend,
you’re in a condition to do something, and
C(flnfe’i; an unmixed blessin’ on mankind by tellin’
o it.
Bass bent forward and whispered solemnly:
“ It was Madame Mnriel’s nigger!" ,
Henderson laughed, and from his position 1
among the pillow replied:
“Since Bass’s encounter with that individual ‘
here, he’s inclined to think the nigger guilty ,
of all the meanness done.” ‘
“ Not a bit of it!” Bass protested. “ I know
what I’m a-talkin’ about. ’Twas Madame
Muriel’s niggér' an’ I can prove it to you!”
Again he looked about, thinking to discover *
evuiences of a sensation. ,
“Madame Muriel and Major Dinsmore has ,
apt it in for our good friend hyer,” nodding I
ward Singer Sam. “You believe that ,
Madame Muriel has, from what you already i
know. Didn’t she send her nigger hyer with in-
atiil-iuxgtions to blow him sky-high? Of course she

He drew out a wallet, and with slow and
pompous deliberation drew therefrom a crisp
one-hundred dollar bill—the very bill given him
by Dinsmore. ‘

There was a sensation, sure enough, when p
the eyes of the trio fell on this bill. If all re- _
ports were true, it was not often Jim Bass had
so much money.

“ You see that there?” winking slyly and f
smoothing out the bill on his hard palm. “ It’s
a beauty, hain't it? It’s been so long sence I’ve :
seenla new bill with them figers on it that I’d ;
near
isi hundred dollars! An’ it was give to me 5
by Major Dinsmore as part of a flve-thousan’ A
I’m to get fer layin’ out our good friend.”

Again be indicated the medicine-vender.

A flush of indignation came into Bass’s face.

“ Gentlemen, I’m porel Porer than ever ;
Job’s turkey was in his wu’st days. But I i
don’t go around a-killin‘ le for money! The
major thought 1 did, and there’s where he made
his mistake!

“ I’ve laid out a good many men in in time,”
the old braggart air returning,“ but always
done it fair and square. Yes, sir; whether ’twns
pistils er knives, or whatever it was that the
fightin’ was done with, there wasn’t any sneak-
in about it. 1 never drove a knife into a
man’s back yit, and I don’t ’low to!”

Bass had taken am le time to consider the '
matter before determ ning to make this revela-

ion. ' '

" When was this?” Henderson asked. “This 
ofleri When wasit made to you?”

His manner was intensely earnest. He had
fancied himself prepared for almost an revela-
tion concerning Diusmore, but he foun that he
had not been prepared for this.

“ The same night that the nigger tried to blow
up yer shebang. I reckon the failyer of the nig-
ger was the cause of it. I’ve flggered over the
thing a good deal, and this is the way I make it
cut:

 

ulled my gun on that black scoun-
drel that nig t, an’ he jumped out at me an’ we
had that awful fight, he didn’t know who I was.
Either that, at Madame Muriel never told the
I reckon it the
major had knowed that ’twas me that come so
near akillin’ the nigger at that time, he wouldn’t
have never up reached me at all.

“ But he dici’n’t know it, an’, reckonin’ that I
wags somethin’ of a fighter, he made me this
0 er:

“ He come to me, the major did, an’ asked me
to his room. Then he says, says he: ‘ Bass, put

forgot how one of ’em looked. There she 3 it "

I

this hyer Singer Sam out o’ the way an’ I'll giVe ,
on five thousan’l’ an’ he ive me this bill; and 7 been let down as won as a fair degree of venti-
e’s to pay me the .ba ance when the job’s i lation could be established; and “ark on the re-

done.”
He smiled oddly and boastfully, and with a

l
l

reely know whether vou’re wu’th that much or
not. Is life wu‘th five thousand toyou? Is it
wu’th the half of it? If it tain’t, I’ll erceed to
blow the top 0’ yer head off, and we’l make an
evon division of the pay. "I‘wouldii’t liker do
you much nod, but you could pass it over to
yer heirs. here ain’t many men that’s wu’th
the half of iivo tbousan’ that hiin’t got Some~
body ii-wishiu’ they was dead, so that they could
git the swag. Likely you’ve got some of them
kind of relatives!”

“ How many times do I have to say that I‘m a
pilgrim and a stranger?” was Singer Sam’s pa-
thetic protest. “ Put up that gun, will ye? It
might gO'off an’ hurt somebody. i don’t want i
you to draw the thousand on an accidentin- a
surance like that.”

With seeming reluctance the cowboy put the
weapon awn y.

" l’m a-gittin’ away off my p’int. I was
a-talkin’ about this hyer mine bizness, and a-say-
in’ that Madame Muriel’s nigger caused the ex-
plosion! He tried to cause one hyer, which.
makes me shore of the one at the mine.

“1 was a-talkin’ to our singer friend t’othcr
day, givin’ him my opinion ’bout several 5
things!

“ You an’ himmall three of you—air pardners l
n0w, I understand?” I

He looked from one to the other as if hesitat- l
ing to proceed.

“Go on!" said the medicine-vendor, encour-
agingly. “ You hit bed-rock that time. We
three air pardners; an’ I reckon what’s good
enough for one to hear is good enough for the
others. ‘Vhats’ever you have to say to me can
be said before them. Outsiders, h0wever, strict
ly excluded.”

He had for some time been paying close atten-
tion to that bit of the exterior of the building
visible by the lamplight from where he sat. He
now got up. took a short turn of inspection
about the yard, came in again and closed the
door.

Jim Bass, who had been watching him intent-
ly, now proc .

“There’s a gal up at the madame’s that I'm
a-gom’ to marry purty qmck. If I had that five
thousand I’d marry her to—morrow. I’ve reck-
oned that that gal has got a fortune comin’ to
her. It’s now in the hands of the madame and
the major, and they are withholding it wrong-
fully from her, and a-deceivin’ of her. Our
friend hyer, the singer, knows all about it, fer I
took pe’tickler pains to acquaint him with the
facts the other day.

“ He’s hyer, our friend is,” again nodding to-
ward the medicineovender, “ fur the purpose of'
gittin’ that identicdl fortune from these people,
an’ turning it over to the gal that expects to be
my wife. He won’t say so in jist that many
words; but that’s what he’s hyer fer an’ I know

 

Nothin was more manifest than that Jim Bass
was pleased with the close attention he was re—
ceiving. To have a story to tell and some one
to drink it in greedin was the great pleasure of
his life. '

“ An’ they know it, tool” he went on.- .“The
madame and the major both know he’s hyer fer I:
that reason, jist as well as I do. That’s why the 2
nigger come down h er to blow him up. not
keerin’ h0w many 0t ers he blowed up at the
same time!”

“But he wasn’t in the mine!” Henderson ex-
postulated. ‘

“ No, but one of his pardners was. You
needn’t tell me that them two don’t understand
this pardnershi . bizness that you’ve gone into 3
jist as well as‘ do. You cant keep anything i
awa from them. The madame’s abilityin that
line is what makes her sich a tarnel success as a
fortune-teller.”

“ They'll be after you, then, for what you’re

 

 

I now saying!” Cecil suggested, with one of his

rare smiles.

“ I know they will," dropping a hand to the
big revolver, “ an’ I’m ready for ’en.‘

‘They knowed that Henderson was the sing-
er’s pardncr, an’ fer that reason they proposed
todo him up. That’s my idea; an’ you’ll find
it’ll work out right!”

An intensely thoughtful look had come into
the face of Tom Henderson. He glanced mean~
ingly at Cecil, and then at Singer Sam.

The latter arose, drew up his lank form, and
reached for his hat.

“ 1 can’t agree With all my friend says, though
I must say he’s been dropping some chunks of
solid wisdom. The thing will bear investigatin’,
an’ I’m a-goin’ to investigate it.”

He stepped toward the door, without asking
Bass to accompany him, a proceeding the latter
did not relish.

Then he was gone.

From the home of Henderson and Marsden,
Singer Sam went direct to the Calumet Mine.

The night—shift had been long at work, having ‘

airs was progressing,
Without much difficulty, and under the reas.

tug drew out the big revolver. This he laid ! enable plea of curiosity, he was permitted to de-
' across his lap, pointing it in the direction of the ' scend into the mine.

medicine man.

1
“Five thousand is a purty big sum. I don’t ‘ Therefore, he was forced to descend the 6th
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The cage at the first shaft was not runnin .

l

f shaft and make his way through the winding
J galleries to the point he wished to visit.

There were many suspicious circumstances
‘ tending to corroborate J im Boss’s theory.

The first and principal of these was that Major
Dinsmore had an interest in the Calumet Mine.
Very likely Bass did not know this, or he would
haVe incorporated it in his statement. But
Singer Sam became aware of it scon after reach-
ing the town. Not accidentally, but because he
had made it his business to examine closely_into
Dinsniore’s affairs.

Bass was not. “far wrong in some of his ideas.
As hc-s been already shown, by the fears and
conversations of the madame and the major,
Singer Sam had come to Mineral Gap for the
purpose of investigating some criminal matters
with which they had been connected. Hence,
the negro’s attempt; and, according to the cow-
boy’s belief, this explosion in the mine.

On reaching the place \\ here the explosion
occurred, Singer Sam set himself to make as
though an examination of the matter as he could,
by inquiry and otherwise.

He soon learned that the general theory was
that a quantity of blasting powder had been
carelessly lying at that point, and by some means
bad exploded. I

This did not satisfy him ; and after much scrap-
ing and raking about in dirt and refuse, he came
upon a piece of wire. He caught it up with an
air of triumph; and, approaching one of the
workmen, inquired innocently what such wire
was used for in the mine.

The man’s reply confirmed his first impression.
No such wire was made use of there.

“ Aha l” he muttered, thrustin the wire into
his pocket and turning away. “ t’s as I thought.
The blasting wder was put them purposely,
and was fir by means of this wire an’ an
electric battery’l” _

CHAPTER XlII.
CAUGHT IN ms OWN TRAP.

WnaN Major Dinsmore entered into his mur-
derous contract with Jim Bass and advanced
the hundred dollars as part payment, he believed
that Bass would take the first opportunity of
drawing Sin er Sam into a quarrel, that he
mi ht shoot h m.

be night and a day went by, however, with-
out anything of the kind occurring, and he be-
gan to doubt if the c0wboy really intended to
make good his boasts.

He spoke to Madame Muriel of what he had

done, and immediately drew down on his dc-‘

voted head her severe censure and wrath. She
made his head to whirl and his ears to tingle
with the storm of her denunciations. He was a
fool. she assured him! He would bring about
the ruin of both!

Another day went by, and still no news came
that Bass had accomplished his work. Dins-
more diligently scanned the papers, reading
with avidity the accounts of the street brawls,
but neither Bass nor Singer Sam was mentioned
in them. It was plain that the fire-eater had
proved recreant.

In this state of mind he betook himself for
counsel and assistance to Tobe Tinchman.

Tinchman was not an adept in the fine art of
committing murder without bringing danger to
himself, but Dinsmore had always found him
level-headed; and, what was more to the point,
unscrupulous.

For a consideration, Tinchman agreed to un-
dertake what Jim Bass had failed to do; and in
the performance he purposed to use craft.

Just what course he should pursue he did not
for a time know. What seemed an accident

ve it direction. He saw, or believed he saw,

inger Sam enter the cage and descend the
shaft of the Calumet Mine. One of his confed-
erates was near, and be stationed him there to
watch for the medicine man’s reappearance.
Anriher confederate he sent to the other shaft,
intending to make sure that Sam did not come
out of the mine without his knowledge.

Then he hastened away for a short conference
with Dinsmore.

He found the major fertile of resources, filled
with expedients.

Within a few moments he was hastening
back, a large spool of wire and a small storage
batter stowed away beneath his coat. He suc-
cecde in entering the mine with these without
detection. He was not observed in the darkness
below; an after the explosion, as we have seen,
his absenc was not noted.

He had left word with the confederate at the
other shaftto notify him in the event that the
man he sought ascended by that way. The
long hours glided by Bud no such notification
came. Neither did the medicme man ascend at
the point he was watching.

It scarcely seems necessary to add that Tinch-
man was laboringunder mist ke. When he
thought he saw Singer am enter the mine he
had been deluded.

The Opportunity for which he had been wait-
ing and watching finally came. He succeeded
in obtaining possession of a lari-Ie quantity 01'
blasting-powder, which be concealed under a
. lot of refuse near the bottom of the shaft.
'.The dal‘kuefis, 80 constant and intense down

 

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I “Singer's-am, the Pilgrim DeteCtive'

11

 

 

there, aided him in his movements. He then
grounded his wire and formed a circuit, and so
attached it to the powder and to the battery
that only a touch was necessary to fire the ex~
plosive.

The wire he trailed away into the depths of
mine. covering it to prevent its detection; and,
when he was satisfied that all was in readiness,
he placed the battery in position in a cave-like
niche, and hastened back to where he could ob-
serve the bottom of the shaft.

He was uneasy, nervous, and laboring under
much excitement. If his scheme should fail, or
be detected, he would be perilously situated.
in such an event, could the influence of the
major save him from jUst punishment? He en-
deavored to comfort himself in the belief that it
could; but in spite of all, his doubts would oc-
casionally rise to an alarming extent.

He saw the day-shift ascend, and wondered
what could cause Singer Sam to so delay his
coming.

Then with quick steps Tom Henderson came
through the gloom and entered the cage. It
seemed strange that Tinchman should make so
great an error. But when he caught sight of
Henderson he felt sure he saw Singer Sam, and
ran back to the battery.

The explosion instantly followed.

The result was wholly unlooked-for, even by
Tinchman. He had not correctly estimated the
power of the explosives. The mine wasinstantly
a scene of wreck and confusion. The galleries
were filled with dust; and great pieces of coal,
weighing many pounds, were hurled in all direc-
tions, with almost the velocity of solid shot.

The chambers rocked and groaned, the crash
of the explosion was deafening; and, in an
agony of fear, Tinchman throw himself on his
face, believing his hour had come.

When he ventured to look about he found the
pathway to the shaft blocked. He was as com-
pletely cut off from it as if a wall had suddenly
been let down.

A danger he had not thought of now faced
him. He was not familiar with the galleries
leading to the other shaft. Could he make his
Wig there without guidance?

e felt sure the explosion had done the Work
he had counted on. Singer Sam was dead; but,
if he could not ape from his imprisonment,
what benefit could he ever derive from that
fact?

In a frenzy of sudden terror be rushed back-
ward along the gallery, hoping that if he kept
to it he could not fail to reach his destination.
But he had no light—he had not dared to bring
one with him—and this added to his bewilder-
ment and confusion. He was compelled to feel
along the passage with his hands, dreading a pit-
fall at every step; and to his dismay the passage
seemed to open at every few feet into others.

He could not determine which of these totake,
and his distress was almost pitiful.

After stumbling along for a great while, he
blundered into one of these side galleries, mis-
takin it for the main passage. As a result he
soon onnd himself ' in a perfect labyrinth. The
“drifts’ for coal extended in every direction.
divided only by the pillars left as supports, and
by the heavy timbers used for the same pur-

ose.

Tinchman knew he was lost, and his fright
became so great in consequence that all his cus-
tomary conlness forsook him. Clutching the
cold walls, and crouching, fear-stricken, he sent
up shout after about for aid. The sounds seem-
ed to be shut in by the confined space and to be
thr0wn back at him.

He sprung up and wandered on and on, turn-
ing this way and that. Mocking e as seemed to
leer at him from the gloom, and w ispers, as of
voices, to pursue him. He believed he was go-
ing mad. He knew these were cull; phantasies
-the creations of his own fears. evertheless,
they were soreal to him that he could not put
them awn ; and he even saw and heard them
when he c osed his eyes and stopped his ears.

A cold perspiration broke out on his body, and
he felt chilled, as if blown on by the arctic
blasts. .

On, on, he blindly stumbled, his terror in-
creasing, his hope growing less. It seemed to
him after a time that be ad been wandering
there for days. In tl-e bitterness of his despair,
he cursed the hour in which he entered the
Calumet Mine with that murderous plan in his
head. v
Whatever fate had fallen to the medicine-
vender, a certain and horrible death he feared
awaited him.

Suddenly a dancing light appeared before him,
bringing a thrill that was half hope and half
doubt. e stood treniulously watching it, not
knowing ut that it would disappear, and thus
prove to be only one of the fancies that had been
tormenting him. But it came straight on, a
dancing speck that grew constantly larger, and
he knew it was a miner’s lamp.

With a cry 0f Joy be rushed toward it, heed-
less of threatened falls and bruises.

The form of a man Was now plainly revealed,
coming toward him. .

.The sight brought a Wild cry to his lips.

A few moments later he was face to face with

the supposed miner. .

It was Singer Sam!

With a shriek that was blood—cardling and
almost maniacal, Tobe Tinchman turned, and
ran in the opposite direction as fast as his
tremblinglimbs would carry him. That he had
encountered the medicine-vendor’s ghost, he had
not a doubt.

Singer Sam‘was returning to the shaft by
which he had descended, having completed his
investigation. Brought thus face to face with
Tinchman, he recognized the man as one of
Dinsmore’s satellites, but was atalosstoaccount
for the fellow’s strange actions.

All at once an inkling of the truth flashed
upon him.

Tinchman ran on, not once daring to look

back. In his wanderings he had come again
into the main passage, though he did not
know it.

The wild race brought him quickly to the foot
of the shaft, which he beheld with a feeling of
profound relief. Intensely superstitious, as
many of the ignorant and criminal class are, be
firmly believed that what he had seen in the
darkness of the mine was nothing else than
Singer Sam’s disembodied spirit.

The cage was ready to ascend with its load of
coal; and, springing by the man who was at-
tending it, he leaped into the cage, where he
crouched shiveringiy, glaring back into the mine
With a look that was almOst insane.

“ Send her up!” he yelled. “ Send her upl” ,

The man knew not what to make of these
strange actions. He did not know but that he
might have a maniac to deal with; and obeyed
with alacrity.

In a short lime the medicine-vender appeared,
and with solemn visage and wondering words
listened to the miner’s gruesome story.

 

I CHAPTER XIV.
A VISIT TO MADAME MURIEL.

SINGER SAM was in great gcod-humor as he
walked homeward through the night. He had
begun to form a true theory of Tinchman’s re-
cent attempt.

“ He must have had his toes pinched purty
bad!” he soliloquized.

Then he began to sing, in a low, droning
voice, making use of a parody of the song:
“ Listen to my tale of woe!"

“ A little corn on a maiden grew;
Listen to my wail of toe.
Caused by the pinch of a too tight shoe,—
Instead of a three a number twol
It grer It grewl
Listen to my wall of toe.

“ As time went on as time will do,
Listen to my wall of toe.
The corn waxed red—the maiden blue—
Too true. Too true. '
Listen to my wall of toe.

“ She had a seat in the end of a pew:
Listen to my wail of toe
And a man it th another seat in view, ‘
Put his cowhide boots on her kangerool
Oh. uhewl Oh, uhewl
Listen to my wail of toe 1"

He had thought of returning immediately to
Henderson’s with the information he had obtain-
ed, but when half-way to the house he changed
his comes and headed for Roscommon’s.

He did not make his appearance at Hender-
son’s until nearly noon on the following day.
Then he came in, loaded withastore of good
things in the way of eatables, dainties for the
injured man and something more solid for him-
self and Cecil. ‘

“I’m a- oin’ to have a feast and then a talk!”
screwing is face into a comical appearance.
“ I’d say talk first, but 1 always believe in
bizness before pleasure. So we'll have somethin’
‘ ood to eat, and that’ll limber our ton es a bit.

Vhen we’ve devoured all this here, ’ve gota
pro ition to make.” k
.iturally these words, and especially the
manner, pi ued the curiosity of his friends.
But they di not question him, already knowing
from experience that it was best to let him take
his own time,‘when he had a communication to

make. v

Cecil hustled about getting the dinner in
order, and arranging the things brought by the
medicine-vender.

“ It’s a feast fit fer a king!" the latter declar-
ed, smiling as one dish after the other was placed
on the table.

“ Look at them ham sandwiches. Look at them
cakes. Look at that pie. It’s a punkin pie—
though I wish ’twas u gooseberryl If ’twu a,
gooseberry, I’ve got a son that would fit it.”

He drew up to the tab 9, seized a knife, and
flourished it ludicrously, /

“Thev may Boast. if they like, of their bacon and
green
They may'talk of roast turkey and game,
They may sing loud the praises of Boston baked

beans.
These. all may be just what» they claim.
t beef and plum pudding may answer for
801118. '
And oysters in stew or a fry;

 

 

I relish them all, butany' greatest
Is a big pieceof gobseberry p .

   
 

' ‘79.

 

“ For there‘s nothing like gooseherry pie, says 1.
Oh. don't i like gooseberry pit-l
Since the time of the flood there‘s been nothing
so good,
So luscious. as goeseberry pie.

“And now I‘ve grown older 1 love it still more,
And shall till the day that 1 die;
And the one who would reek for my friendship
must first
Fill me chuck-full of gooseberry pie.
As my teeth gently press through ilS lovely brown
crust.
And the moisture it holds is set free.
It goods through my frame such a thrill of delight;
Oh, it’s luscious as luscious can be.

“For there’s nothing like gooseberry pie, says I;
Oh. don’t I like gooseberry pie!
Since the time of the flood there’s been nothing
so good.
So luscious, as gooseberry pie.“

The dinner that soon followed was as 'ovial in
all its characteristics as was this preliminary of
Singer Sam. Though Henderson was restricted
from partaking as freely as his friends, he enjoy—
ed it as much as they.

“Now, fer my plan!” pushing back from the
table, and beaming at each in turn. “ We've
had the bizness, an’ now we’re ready fer the
pleasure!”

One thing had been carefully taken into con-
sideration by the medicinewender. These friends
of his were poor. There was probably a little in
the way of wages still due Henderson; but, in a
boomed town like Mineral Gap where six prices
were demanded for everything, this little could
not last long. And these friends Were as sensi-
tive as they were poor!

To offer them charity would be to offend and
to wound their feelings. He had no wish to do
that. Still, he desired to aid them.

“ I hain’t told you, yit, ’bout my trip into the
mine!” '

He drew out the bit of wire he had brought
away with him, and exultantly exhibited it.
After which. he went into a detail of all that
had happened to him while there.

“Stead 0’ being the ni ger, as Bass thought,
’twas Tobe Tinchman. m as well satisfied of
that as of anything. And from the yell he give
when be seen me, I think ’twas me he tried to
kill! 0

“ But that ain‘t the p’int I want togit at, now i”
when this matter had been dul commented on.
“ Our chief pard, hyer won’t able to do any
work fera goodish spell. Mebbe he can knock
about an’ look after the things around the house
in a day or two, but he can’t go to work in the
mines ;—-an’ I don’t want him to go to work there
for awhile, neither. I’m thinkin’ that I will
have somethin’ better an’ more interestin’ fer him
to do before long!

“ But until then! I’ve been to see Roscoin-
mon. He’s got a place that he can give Cece,
here. A lace that’ll just fit the boy. Suit him
to a T. mmon was a-askin’ me if I didn’t
know of some one to do writin’ fer him, an’ I re-
commended Cece.

“ Don’t go to blushin’ an’ hangin' back, now,
like a bashful school-girll I know you can tend
to the job jist as good as the next' an’ there’ll
be some mone in it. Not anyth ng big, but
enough to git ong on, tell Tom is ready fer the
work I’m goin’ to cut out fer him 1”

Cecil did indeed seem flustered and confused
by this sudden proposition. But after consider-
ing the matter ora few moments, he announced
his willingnea to accept the place offered him.

“ I’m sure I can do as wall as I can, and that
is well as any one can do!” he declared with a
sudden show of determination. “ Yes, I’ll take
the place; and if I don‘t give satisfaction, it
will not be because I don’t try hard enough.”

Singer Sam expressed himself as havingno
doubts on this score. ~.

He knew the boy would give satisfaction. He
had fibbed a little in making the roposition to
Cecil, for he had been the soli tor instead of
Roscommon. He had explained to Roscommon
the position of Henderson and Marsden, and
asked him to give the latter something todo. .
That there was little to do, made no difference.
If Roscommon really had no work at which the
boy could be profits ly employed, he had asked
tgatbliileli be given work anyway; agreeingto foot
t e . 3

This odor of a place for Cecil was not wholl
pleasing toHenderson,though he saw the ad -
sability of the boy’s doing something to add to ,
their limited means.

Singer Sam was taken with the idea, andsuc-
oeeded in conveying a large degree of his own
enthusiasm to these riends.

When the dinner dishes had dul washed
and put away, the house set in or r, enderson
made comfortable, and such things as he might
need placed within easy reach, Cecil setout with
Singer Sam for Roscommon’s oflice.

Immediately on arriving there, and being in-
ducted into his new position, he found that
writing and copying were notall the things he
would be expected to do. There would be
errands to run, a thing not mentioned by his
friend.

He was not inclined to shrink from this work;
but when he found that his first errand would
take him to the residence of Madame Muriel, he
drew back almost in affright.

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His lips and cheeks whitened. For some rea-
son he held the madame in mortal terror. The
fact that he had been once run down by her car-
183:6. seemed scarcely sufficient to account for
t is.

Roscommon and Singer Sam were so busily
engaged in conversation that they did not notice
this paculiar manifestation on the boy’s part:
and as he offered no verbal protest, he departed
with the written message which had been deliv-
cred to him.

After he had started, he hesitated for a mo-
ment at the top of the stairs; then returned to
the office; and, beckoning to Singer Sam, whis-
pered into his car;

“ i saw a negro crouching in the corridor back
there awhile ago, when we came in, and Ibes
lieve it was the one that stays at Madame Mu-
riel’s.”

The medicine-vendor started, and then ob-
served how pale and agitated Cecil was.

He spoke hurriedly to Roscominon, and then
went out into the cm-ridor where the negro hm]
been seen by the boy. As he turned from Ros-
common’s door, he observed that a note was
tacked to it with a pin.

He could find nothing of the negro, and when

'- he came back he called the lawyer’s attention to

the note.

Roscominon took it down and read it. It was
from the madame; and there could be no doubt
that the black whom the boy had seen had placed
it there. This was his way of delivering a mes-

sage

“ Afraid of his own shudder!” was Singer
Sam’s growling comment.

"Why couldn’t he have walked in like any-
body else and give it to ye?”

“ The madame wants to see me!" Roscommon
asserted looking up from the paper. “That’s
the second time she has sent for me. The first
request came by mail. She is getting scared!”

he mi9sive he had handed to Cecil related to
this first request. It was a reply to it, stating
that because of other engagements he could not
come The note brought by the negro and so
slyly pinned to the donr seemed to prove that
the madame was indeed anxious to meet him.

z j to“ he knows verv well that I huVe undertaken

 

dc!"

 

a d you.” said Roscommon, smiling serenely
at Singer Sam. “She’s fearful; and she wants
to do something to block our game. ButI sha’n’t
go just yet. We’ll keep her on tenter-hooks for
a while. It will do her high-mightiness a deal of

i

As the black had evidently disappeared from
the place, Cecil was again sent out with the
message.

He was familiar with the route to Madame
Muriel’s and reached the house without delay.
His pull at the door-bell brought the Loy; and
he was ushered speedily into the madame’s

presence.

In spite of his efiorts to retain his composure,
ho shudderod as he was shown into the room
occupied by the madame. There was some-
thing uncann and nerve-thrilling in all its ar-

\. rangements, rom the heavy curtains and half-

rovealod Cu ids and Satyrs to the fountain play-

" - i in the d in, uncertain light.

. I

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1‘.

mest haunted

ithout unnecessa? delay he delivered to her
the note, and waited or her reply.

“ You don’t want your fortune told i" was the
unexpected query, which the woman fired at
him as soon as she had read the note.

Cecil protestedthat he did not. .

“I should like to tell your master his!” and
her eyes snapped. “I know he’d like to hear it!
I’m very sorry he couldn’t come today, for he
could have heard somethin to his advantage,
and something that woul be sure to lease.
But he’s afraid to havo his fortune tol ; just

on are!" '

he at away the letter and began to ques-
0 boy about the man who had so re-
cently taken him into his employment. The
inqluiries were deftly framed, iut Cecil know
so lttle that if he had told all it would not

tly have advantaged the madame. He told,

awever, just as little as he could. w

He' was about to turn away, for the purpose
of making his exit, when his uick ear caught
the sound of a light footfall. healing as if on

a pivot, he saw Laura Dutton glide from the

room. He started. Had she been in the room
all the time? If so, where had she been con-
cealed? I ,1

These questions were not, however, what
him as he made his way down the
stairway and into the street. That was the
whiteness and ghastliness of the face he had for

' a moment seen revealed.

CHAPTER XV.
Bass's BLUBTER. ' .
(3:ch Mansions had scarcely left the room,

I when Madame Muriel vanished from it also in

I pursuit of Laura Dutton.

 There had been a stormy interview in regress
between the madame and Laura, wh ch had
been interrupted by the ringing of ths:boll pad
the‘ admission of Cecil. The madame had push-
oil Laura into a little alcove. drawn the cur ins

abmzt her, and caminanded her to remain t re,

 quietly until the visitor’s departure. . ' j x

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“mason.mixiitsiis  .e

 

 

Laura had seen Cecil turn to leave, and
thought him gone, when she emerged from this
place of concealment.

The irate madame found the girl weeping,
when overtaken by her in another room. There
came a. flash of defiance into the girl’s eyes,
thou h, as she saw herself thus followed.

" hy did you leaVe there before the boy
went away i" was the madame’s indignant
question. “ You did it purposely! You wanted
him to know We had been having words.”

Laura very promptly denied this charge, ex-
plaining why she had gone from the place.

The madame glowered at her in great ill-
temper.

“ I don’t know that I care about that! What
I want to know is, what did you do with those
jewels?"

“ I have already told you that I don’t know
anything about them. I never saw them.
never had them 1"

“.How dare you lie to me that way, Laura
Duttoni HOW dare you 'i” shaking her finger re-
provingiy at her. “ 1 know you took them, and
there’s no use for you to deny it!”

The girl looked fixedly at her accuser, a cer-
tain fine scorn resting on her handsome face.

“ Do your worst, Madame Muriel! I see you
are determined to degrade and humiliate me.
You Won't believe anything I say. Again and
again I haVe told you that I know nothing of
your jewels!”

The words, and the girl’s manner of uttering
them, threw the woman into a more fearnt rage
than ever.

“06 course you will lie, Laura Dutton. I
expected that. Agirl that will steal will lie.
You took them, and you disposed of them at
Baumgard‘s pawn-shop. I have the proof of it
here in the house!"

Tile girl caught her breath, terrified at the
niadame’s vixenlsli appearance. The woman
seemed a fliry, as she made this charge.
Laura’s life there had been made almost unen-
durable of late. The madame had never been
kind to her. At times she had treateu her with
gross brutality; and such outbursts as the pres-
ent were becoming alarmingly frequent.

She feared that some great peril lay behind
the madamo’s Words.

“ Whawver proof you may have, I shall not
acknowledge it!” she asserted. “ I know that I
am innocent; and nothing can make me sayI
am not i" '

The madame stepped from the room, and
called loudly: .

“Baumgardl Come here! This girl is dis-
posed to lie out of the thing!”

A wouzened, dried-up, little man made his ap-

-arance in response to this summons. It was

aumgard, the Jew awnbroker. There was a
look of low and devil sh cunnin on his swarthy
face, his hooked nose resemle the beak of an
eagle, and his dark eyes had a crafty, conscience-
less expression. He was such a man as might
become the fit and pliant tool of such a woman.

lie-glanced at Laura with hypocritical com-
miseration, as he entered.

“She says she never sold those things to
you!” the madame nverred. “She says she
never saw them 1” ~

‘ She held up her hands in a sort of pious hor-
ror, as if such deplicity passed her comprehen-
sion. .

“My teart” and the little Jew shru ged his
shoulders. meaningly. “It is t’e vay v th such
beople. You cannot expect dot dhey viii con-
vet; vhen dhoy hufe peen sdealingl”

“llut she brought the jewels to you, did she
not! Here, lot the see them i”

The Jew took a package from an inner pocket,
slowly and carefu ly unrolled it, and exhibited
somo sweled ornaments.

“D os‘o are dhe fery t’in vhat she prought
me!” he unblushingl‘y dec ared. “Dhot is t’e
troot, so hellup me, i I efer shake it!”

110 strove to wipe away an imaginary tear,
to 0:1")1'853 his ity that one so young and so
beautiful shoul be guilty of such actions.

‘ “ I kVeotioned her, vhero did she get dhem,
and she my dot dhey vhas her mudder’s, vhat
mi died. Dot vhas t’e trootl”

Ho drew the jewelry closer to him, as if fear-
ful the articles might disappear from under his
very eyes, and solemnly folded his hands to
attest the accuracy of his assertions.

‘5 It is not so i" Laura boldly and almost fiercely
declared. “i tell you, I never saw those things,
before. Not until this minute! Any one might
know that the scamp is lying!"

The Jew threw his hands heavenward in
amazement. while his features took on a look of
intense sur rise.

“ So hell)
lies! Dot gynrl she pring me dhose t’ings only
gyisterday morning. at vhas de solemn
trmto” ‘

The nervous strain under which Laura was
suffering would have touched any but the most
calloused heart. Hei- manifest distress had,
howeVel‘, no eflsct on these two. The madame
seemed to gloat over it; and the Jew, only stood
by, characteristically shrugging his shoulders
and muttering unintelliiiibly to himself.

b'l‘hechsrgcs. and as sis were broughltuto an
a, ‘ ,‘ ‘ ‘ ' ' v .

 ,,. \

   

up me cracious. I vas not delling no .

lentered the kitchen; and not finding Laura

there had boldly gone in search of her, feeling
that he had a roving commission to wander as.
be pleased about the place.

“ What’s the meaning of this hyer?” Bass do»
manded, in his most pom us tones, glowering
slavageiy first at Madame uriel and then at the

ow.

Laura was pleased with his coming. She felt
that Bass, in spite of his well known bluster,
was a friend she could depend on.

“They have been accusing me of stealing
those things!” and she pointed scornfuliy to the
jewelry.

The Jew grasped the articles, pressed the
paper about them, and thrust them into his

,ket. -

“ I wouldn’t take ’em if you’d give ’em to me!”
Bass sneered, noting the action.

“ She did steal them i” was the madame’s
wrathfiil assertion,£aying no heed to the Jew’s
movements or to ass’s words. “ They are
mine, and she stole them from me, and sold them
to this pawnbroker!”

“ I sha’n’t believe a word of itl”and Bass grew
red and white by turns, showing his exceeding
,uncomfortableness. “ Ncr I sha’n’t stand by and
See that gal abused. I’m lier gunrdeen, I am;
an’ don’t you fergit it! Duly app’lnted by my-
self. I expect to marry her one of these hyer
days, an’ I don’t ’iow to let nobody go to treatin’
her wrong 1”

He drew himself up with a martial air, and
with a Seemiug unconscious motion let his right
hand‘slide toward his bulging hip-pocket.

“ You let that al alone, Madame Muriel!
An’ as fer you,” facIng the Jew sternly, “if you
don’t git out of hyer with yer lies, I’ll h’ist ye out
with the toe o’ my boot!”

The madame’s fury passed all bonds.

“ If you don’t get out, I’ll send for Jingo and
have him throw you out!"

Jingo was the name by which the negro was
known.

“ Jingo be dad-gastedl If he comes foolin’
around me, I’ll jist nacherly blow the top 0’ his
head om”

. “ 1’]! send for Dinsmore i” the madame scream—
ed, almost beside herself.

“ Thankeel I wisht ye would. He’s a gentle-
man I’m a-wantin’ to see. Lik‘y if he comes
he'll pay me the balance of that five thousan’ he
Owes me!” - '

Such a startled look as came into the madame’s
eyes!

Bass saw that the shot had struck home; that
she had information of Dinsmore’s iniquitous
offer; and he resolved to take advantage of it.

“ Send for him 1” fairly shouting the words.
“ If you only will, Madame Muriel, I’ll divvy
the money w th ye when he pays me l”

“ J ingol” she called. “ Come here l”

She knew that the call would receive no reply,
else she would not have made it. She hoped,
however, that it would influence Bus to modify
his tone.

It had the contrary effect.

“ If that nigger comes near me. Madame Mu-
riel, do you know what I’ll do? I’ll pile up a lot
of ‘blastin’-powder under him, stick a fuse into»
it, an’ tech a lighted match to the foscl”

A ain the madame ,winhed and poled.

“ hat’s what I’ll do!” Bass vociferated. “ It’d
lease me to give him a blowin’ up like that.
u!!!” throwing up his hands. “ Blow him sky-

hi hi I’m a-thinkin’ if I did so, it'd rain chunks
offidsck meat for a whole week i”

The madame crouched in her chair as if panic-
stricken. ,

Throughout it all Lau 'a Dutton had remained
almost in one position, not understanding the
drift of Boss’s deciamatory words, but grateful
for the fact that he had interfered iniher behalf.

As for the Jew, Baum rd—there was a look
of terror in J is come enceiess eyes, and he
clasped and unclasped his dark, skinny hands in
an uneasy, fid ety way.

“ I don’t th nit you I! send fer the nigger, nor
for Dinsmore, oither 1" Bass averred.

The madame seemed absolutely crushed. These
indiscreet statements of the cowboy might ruin
everything. If he would make them here. in
“19 Dresencc of Laura and the Jew, would he
not make them elsewhere? Sho mentally
anathema’tized the day in which Dinsmore had
been so foolish as to take conceide and rock
less a fellow into his confidence.

“ You won’t send fer either of ’eni l" Bass re-

ted. “ ’Cause why, I ,don’t think it'd be
eaithy fer you to do so.

If y0u don’t, you an’ the major will be shore to
hear somethin’ dro . I reckon you kctch on?”

“ i ‘m sure I don." know what you mean,” the
madame walled. _

“ I think you understand well enough ” said
Bass. swelling with t’be‘importanoe of hi. vie.
tory. “ If on don't, i reckon I can make it
plainor. 3' 8 Clwstion is, she}- l?”

The madame deprecatingly put up her hands.
“I thoufibt .YOll Wouldn’t want that. Now,
pm a-goin‘ togol I’m a-oom'in’ back, though, in
an hour or less. If that Shyiock there says an-
other word about that jewelry, it’ll be the worse

      

 

m. min: minim that ,

for him, too! An’ if you charfiebghat gal agf’in
. owe. a

An’ I’m a-thinkin’, .
t00. that you’ll let up on this abuse oi. the gal. 5

 

«a

 

 

 

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the cong pawubroker.
‘ lie did histh though; and

‘I y. ,f ’7‘ on J lgr  h- ,x

' Singer'Sam, the Pilgrim Detective.

 

 

you! N0w, hearken to what I say: I’m a-goin’;
an’ if I find when I come back that you’ve been
mistreatin’ her ag’in, l’ll have somethin’ more to
Nilv. :in’ [‘11 say it in a way to make somebody
,~'c:'iiige I”

With this last thrust, he stalked importantly
from the room, giving the butt of his revolver a
final hitch as he disappeared.

His threats were not without effect on the
madame nnd linuingard. The Jew‘ left almost
iiiiiiiedi:itely; and the madame, with all the fire
taken out of lwr voice and manner, ordered the
girl to the kitchen. -

CHAPTER XVI.
A SECRET CONCLAVE.

BASS’S bluster bore fruit that night in a meet-
ing held in the privacy of Madame Muriel’s
room.

There were present in addition to the madame,
Major Diusmore, Baumgurd the Jew, and Tobe
Tinchman.

There was an air of seriousness and a lack of
oheerfuluess plainly observable. Sam Bass’sde-
fet-tion weighed heavily on the entire company.
Duisniore had reached the belief that the cow-
boy Would make no attempt on the life of Singer
Sum. But he had thought this was because of
Bass’s fear, and not beCause of his treachery to
their interests. Now it seemed that Bass had
openly turned against them.

This was a thing full of menace. It was not
the only thing, however, that troubled them.
Twice had Dinsmore’s plans been brought to
naught. It may even be said they had been
brought to naught three times. The negro had
failed, Tinchman had “one than failed. and the
«cowboy had made a change of front. Evident—
iv, something must be done. Singers-1m was
increasing his pmwr and influence eVery day.

The Jew’s presence in this select company of
villains provml him to be one of them.

“ I think Bass is angling for more money,” the
major avei‘red, twmting uneasily in his chair.
" I see 0w that I made a great mistake in an.
proaching him as I did. He is wholly unreli-
able, a coward and a braggart; and I don‘t
doubt would expose what I said to him if he was
Well paid for it."

“ It ish alvays money, money!" walled the
Jew, lifting his hands. “That isb t’e trouble
vith dish peesnessl”

“ You can’t expect to get along without using
money,” the major intemperately snarled. “it
tukgs money to make money, and to protect
usl

“ You may bet that that is So!” Tinchman co-
incided, with a solemn nod of his head. “It
takes money to git along in our bizness. We’ve
got to pay licemen to keep their eyes shet,
jéidges to be riend us an’ lawyers to defend us.

on bet it takes a mint 0’ money! But we git
money out 0' it—so what’s the odds?”

“ The odds will be pretty big, if we don’t find
some way to shut ofl’ the‘wind of this medicine
meal" and Dinsmoro‘ frowned, savagely.
“He’s makin headway against us every day.
I undentandfiie visited Baumgard’s shop this
morning. He came in there to buy some sec-
ond-hand articles, so he claimed: but We know
t at it was for a far different purpoee.”

he Jew muttered an assent.

“ I reckon he didn’t see any of that last swag?”
was Tinchman’s nervous question. “ Cause if
he did, I’m afeerd we’re in for it 2”

“ You may trust me for dot, mine frient. He
saw nodingsl”

Tinchman breathed a si h of relief.

“Them watches that

tifyl”

“ I thin'k Baumgard is a safe enough maul” the
madame purred. “We’d be better of! if we
had a few more such men.” i

The Jew smiled and rubbed his hands greed!-
1{ together in acknowledgment of the truth of
t is observation.

From the drift of the conversation it would
seem that this quartette was banded together
for mimosa of robbery. And this was the
case. he madame and the major ware at the
head of the burglarions organization. Tinchmau
was one of the men actually engaged in the
work, and the Jew pawnbroker acted as a re-
ceiver of the stolen floodl. 'Ho had connection
with other men of like instincts in distant cities,
and the goods were shipped to these to be dis.
posed of. Tinchman was not the only active
member of the band, however. There were
many of them, of kinship m viii-lay. varying
only in their adaptability and e! - Some
were men‘pickpockets and shoplifterl; other:
were of the more wurhgeous} scrt to which
Tinch man belonged.

" He will break up our band if something in
not done to shut him on’,” said the major di-
recting the_ talk min to Singer Sam. “That
is what heis bore for. I am free to confea that
I am afraid of him, for there are few sucb dan-
gerous detectives in the country.”

The Jew’s eyes rolled wildly, and he could not
re re- nn exhibition of four.
inchmau laughed coarsely as he looked at

t. up”

I

took from Living-I
stone’s house would be too blamed easy to iden-‘

.of the way, Tinchinau.

 

   

for a few moments the little company remained
silent.

“ I have been trying in vain to find some way
by which I might entrap this man,” said the
madame. “I have been studying, too, how we
may be able to reach Roscommbn. Is there
nothing you can advise, major?"

“ You might lure him into the den here for the
purpose of getting his fortune told, and insert a
knife under his fifth ribl”

Dinsmore tried to be mirthful, but the words
sounded hollowly enough.

“ Did you make anything out of that house I
cracked over on Tenth street?” Tlnchinan iii-
quired of the madame. “I reckoned some of
them would come to you. and you’d be able to
rake in another batch of Shekels!”

The madame was able to ” rake in ” consider-
able sums in this way, on occasion. Tinchman
referred to the habit some people had of running
to her for instruction whenever any ill overtook
them. Some had even come to her concerning
the robberies of their houses, when Tinchman
bud been the man who had done the work. And
at such times the madame had exacted a goodly
fee, and sent them away without any informa-
tion whatever.

Major Dinsmore was shrewd in many things,
and in none more so than in his management of
the cracksman.

He arose, and going into another room,
brought from a sideboard a bottle of liquor and
some glasses. The liquor was fiery stuff; and
Tinchman smacked his lips in anticipation, as the
mojor proceeded to pour out a quantity into the
glueses which be arranged on a. little table.

He touched one of those to his lips and pushed
another to Tinchman.

“ Sample it!" he commanded. “ It’s3the genu-
ine truck, and Will do all of us good. W e’re a
scare—crow lot up here to-night, and we need a
little fire in Our veins!”

He pushed other glussesto the madame and to
the Jew. All made apretensie of drinking, ex-
cept Tinchman. There was no pretense about
it on his part. He drained the fiery stuff to the
dregs, smacked his chops like a thirsty dog, and
held up the glass for more. ‘

“ It’s as free as water,” said Dinsmore, reas-
suringly, “ though it costsa deal more. Take
nll you want of it. It will brace you up. Put
some backbone into all of us!”

He set down the bottle and again sipped at the
stuff in his glass.

“ As I was saying: If we don’t do something
to rid ourselves of this bloodhound of a detective
every one of us will see the inside of a prison in
less than two months. I’ve had spies watching
him, and he’s working like a Turk. I’ve no
doubt he’s already gathered enough evidence to
convict us in any court—unless,” he added slyly,
“ we could succeed in buying the court. And.
as Baumgard says, that takes too much money."

Dinsmore had a well-defined object in thus
tempting the cracksman. Since his failure in the
mine, together with all its attendant and terrify-
ing consequences, Tinchman had been sorely
averse to making any further efl’orts against
Singer Sam. The fearful memories of those
hours spent by him in the darkness of the under-
giround gallery haunted him even in his dreams.

9 was aware, now, of course, that he had been
mistaken in his supposition that he had there en-
countered the detective’s ghoist. But he could
not rid himself of the feeling of horror that had
then swept over him. He had even declared to
the major that. as far as he was concerned, he
would have nothing more to do with anything
so perilous. ,

It was for this reason the major had been
making his statements about the danger they

. were in from the detective’s continued presence

in town. He desired to work Tinchman up to a
point of deeperation. .

And now, as he continued to ply his confeder-
ate with the potent liquor, he began to reiterate
the strong words. he had already used. The
madame joined himOin this, and tOgether they
almost caused the hair to rise up on the head of
the trembling JeW.

Tinchman drank so freely and frequently
that in a very short time the influence of the
liquor began to be observed in his thickened ut-
“ii‘”? a r a. ‘ i t

tth as goo a game the major upped
him on the shoulder and requ'ested a few minutes,
private interview. ‘

The cracksmnn got on his leg! unsteadin and
followed Dinsmm'e into another room.

“There’s no use of talking,” the latter ob-
served, motioning Tinchman to a. chair.

“Guess I ad better set down or I’ll fall
downi" and the cracksman showed his teeth in
an idiotic grin. _ ‘

“ There’s no use of talking," not heeding this
interruption. “We have got to down this do
tective, or he will down as; and. Tichman, you’re
the only man who can do itl” ,

" Wham: matter with you!” Tinchmnn hic-
oou bed.

“ rely on you to do the work!" somewhat
imperious-31y. “You need not fear the conse-
quences. shall look well to that. I Put him out
do it. And if t intI don’t will Imbeciiw you

' I. 0 an -trou a use
of i, will mm g9 xvii '

  
 

 

   

like water, if it becomes necessary. They can’t
get a jury in this town but. “hat I can buy some
lilenllu'l‘ of it. A hung jury, Tinchinau, is as
good as :in acquittal. An’ I’m not afraid but
what I can fix any jury so that it will he sure to
hang.”

Tiuchinan’s courage had returned with the
mounting of the liquor to his brain.

“ if you’ll stand b—liy me, major! (lll(') ”
weaving uncertainly in his chair, “hanged if
I don’t do itl There liaiii’t nothin’ small
about me but my fret!’ grinning again in that
horrible way. “Major, here’s my hand. I’ll
do it!"

This was but the beginning of the conversa-
tion, which lasted for nearly a half-hour. Dins—
more gave him some money, with a promise of
more. He feared to furnish him any more
liquor; though he determined to keep the cracks-
man in a state of semi-intoxication until the
deed was done. '

CHAPTER XVII.
PLAYING WITH FIRE.

SINGER SAM, “ got up regardless of ex-
pense,” as he had expressed it, stood at the
street entrance to Madame Muriel’s den.= His
worn, silk tile had been given a new rubbing,
his shoes shone glossily, and his clothing had
manifestly received some attention at his hands.
There had been no change in it, but its reno-
vated appearance betokened a desire tolook well
in the eyes of the madame.

It was the mornin of the third day follow-
ing the conclave. he detective had had a.
growing wish to call on the madame and speak
with her face to face. Certain secret reasons
urged him to this. Well aware that the
madame was of a treacherous disposition, be
had taken the precaution of informing Hender-
son aud Marsden where he was going.

He hesitated for a time as he stood at the door,
asif doubting the wisdom of his venture. He
looked up and down the street to see if he was
observed. Then he gave the bell a. pull, and
awaited the coming of the boy.

W hen ushered into the madame’s presence, he
found her arrayed in silks and smiles. She had
not anticipated his vis1t; but she was equal to
the emergency, and greeted him with the kindest
and most honeyed of words.

The detective seemed ill at ease amid such
sumptuous surroundings. He had removed his
hat, which he now delivered awkwardly to the
madame. Then he looked at the chairs as if not
sure that each of them might not be some devil-
ish con trivance or trap. Finally he chose one,

doubled up his limbs, and sat down very giu- ‘ ‘

ei'l .
g Thye madame’s musical laugh told that she ap-
preciated the comicalities of his looks and ac-
tions. ,

“ My dear Mr. Johnson l”—the boy had home
up a card u ith the name of Sam Johnson on it
—“ do on know I have thought of you ever so
much smce the time of our first meeting? Your
rescue of that child was a brave act, a noble
act! I thanked you then for it, and I now thank

r

,)

"'13"

if.

you again!
“And then our singing that night at the
Operchusel am sure I never heard anything , ,

quite like itl”

Singer Sam was nervously running
of one hand up and down an arm 0 the chair.
To all seeming, the witchery of the madame’s
presence quite overp0wered him.

“Thankee, ma’am, fer the compliment!” lids- ‘

sting again and pulling at his scanty
“I have had other feilers—l mean others—say
that it was rather out o’ the common.
sin some, when I git started l”
e smiled as if pleased with the ease with

which his words came.

“ Yes, I ’low it was party ood.
have been given more time,
better!"

loan.

If I’d only:
could have done ,

the finger! . I

“ I don’t see how you could have done bot-f.

terl” was the madame‘s sweet protest.

“ It was ‘ 4
a wonderful performance! And do you know, .

Mr. Johnson, that the words and music have  .

haunted me from, that day to thisl I can hear
them ringing in my ears now i” .

There was more of truth in this than the
madame would have cared to have

ing for her which had served to indelibly fix
them in her memory. ‘ ’

generally I '3
known. The words of that sling had a means- _ “

“It‘s too bad you didn’t bring your guitar} .v,

along!” she declared. “ I should surely ask you"
to sing those Verses again. I am called a pretty
fair singer. myself; but I don’t think any one
scald throw such expression into them as you
The medicine-vendor’s face beamed with tic-t
light. To be than flattered seemed a plenum,
indeed. ‘
eagerness to ratify her wishes. “’Two
take me very ong.'ma‘aml”
She put a hand to
sneer which she could not prevent.

\

, ,
“I can go an’ git it!” his face showiifidhgz,

 

her lips to conceal tho ,

"My dear Mr. Johnson, I really coulan at,

you to do such a thing—to. on p
for the .011qu of p

  

ut‘younelf‘ gm

   
  
 
 

  

. 554....

 

I,

- 31;“;

 

'her fovertly, but not taking up the glass.
beer

 

 

 

, ' den‘t want it.
' ‘I will send for a servant to take the wine

 

Bin
'acto treachery.
7- Ions

Iva-n u-I~--.m~wu~»~ ._._.,_._ ...,-_..
' '31:le Hwy. ‘5‘ we'd-f 4.2"; wri‘v‘raxqr. 3‘ an him. 7
y 1., , ~ , , , .,, i. ,4 IL  {r “why, ,

Singer 8

am, the Pilgrim Detective.

., I 13,911,... Raver-‘- ) “V; v..‘ 1. i 
I H,

 

“ "I‘wouldn’t be no trouble at all, ma’aml” he
protested, making as if to rise.

She waved him back imperiously, and de-
clared he should do nothing of the kind.

“I presume you came to have your fortune
told?” eying him closely, with that false smile
on her face. “I think I could tell you a very
good fortune, Mr. Johnson. Fortune-telling is
my business, you know.“

“ I don’t think I should want to know it,” he
said, drawing back. “If the rest 0’ my life
hain’t to be no better’n the past, I don‘t keer
anything about hearin’ of it.”

“ But it may bea great deal better. I think
it will be!"

“ Don’t keer anythin’ about hearin’ of iti”
with a sudden show of determination. “I
didn’t come up here fer that.”

“ Ah 1” uplifting her eyebrows.

“.No; I jist come to talk over that singin’
biznessi”

“ And to enjoy yourself for a time? Such
an object fiatters me 1”

She arose, and begging to be excused for a
moment, produced from a drawer not far away,
some wine and wine-glasses. These she placed
on a little tray, which she set on a table.

“ Y0u will at least join me in a glass of wine?"
drawin the table up between them.

She lied the glasses and offered one to the
detective.

He had been watching her closely. He knew
that in thus calling on her, he was really play-
ing with fire. Madame Muriel was a dangerous
woman. When she got up to procure the wine,
he immediately suspected some deadly trick;
and he had seen her, as she brought out the
glasses, drop a little white powder into one of
them. This fact she had concealed by filling
the glasses almost as soon as she put them
down; but he was, nevertheless, sure that the
glass now tendered to him was the one in which
the wder had been dropped.

“ 'his is r’ale kind of you,” he said, watching;r
Qt 

, a good while sence I’ve looked on the wine
when it is red. I’ve heard it said that the stuff
is liable to bite like a serpent and sting like an
adder!”

The two small glasses were sitting not far
apart; and as he said this he began to push them
idly about with his fingers: and succeeded in ex-
changing his glass for that of the madame.

A deathlv palior came to her checks as she
saw this. She knew the action was intentional
on the part of Singer Sam; and therefore that
lher treacherous duplicity had become known to

im.

“ Wine is purty good truck, though,” he smil-
ingly observed, taking up the glass he had thus
secured and squintlng at its contents? “ Purty
good truck, if it hain’t been doctored. They
doctors their liquors so much nowada s that I’m
most afeered to drink any of it. bout five-
flfths of the stuff will eat a hole in an iron kit-
tie in less’n fifteen minutes. But I guess this
here is all right.”

She was trembling visibly, and the pallor of
her face was increasing. '

“ Here’s to your good health," affecting not to
notice this and making ready to clink his glass
against hers.

The madame did not respond, but sat as white
and rigid as any statue. She dared not swallow
the deadly draught which she had prepared
for him; and how to avoid doing so she knew

‘ not, without at the same time confessing the na-

ture of her trick.

Singer Sam gavs her a puzzled look.

, “,Hain’t you goin‘lto drink?” he asked, with
every indication of innocent astonishment.
“ Well, now, that beats me! Here you’ve gone
and got out your wine, and now you Won’t fills
me in drinkin’ to our mutual good health !”

He set down his glass and stared at her in
amazement.

“ l—have a sudden fit of headache!” she
stammered, pressing a hand to her forehead.
“I am affected this way sometimes. You must
not think anything strange of it. When these
spflls some on me I dare not drink or eat any-
th 1'. .

Shge pushed heavily back from the table.

' " “ Liable to give you the cramps. eh?” still

staring at her in that fixed way. “ Well, that’s
bad! If I had list thought to bring along a

‘ bottle of my Magic Cure!"

“ It will pass away in a few moments!" she
assured. ‘

"/Well, dog my cats! That’s too, bad! An’
fat as we was about to drink each other’s
saith. Mebbe if you’d swailer this it’d help

ye! »
He took up her glass and held it out toward

,0
“ No!" she exclaimed, almost fiercely. “ I
if you don’t care to drink~ yours,

awe .”

Shyearose to her feet, staggered to the wall,
and pulled the. handle of the bell which had here-
tofore been invisible.

fgar Sam was on guard against some now

He was debating whether or

not it would be best to throw aside his assump-
of ignorance and boldly charge her with

I ’

  

 

g her attempted crime. At the same time he was
! narrowly noting the doors, intending at to be
I taken by surprise.

Unfortunately he was not familiar with the
l secrets of Madame Muriel’s den. Just when he
: began to think it time for the servant to comein
view, one of the curtains behind him was slyly
grawn aside and the negro Jingo leaped out on

mi.

The ringing of the bell had been for the pur-
pose of summoning Jingo, and not to call a ser-
vant, as the madame had asserted.

The room was Very dimly lighted, and per-
haps this had aided Jingo In making his stealthy
approach. It was also heavily carpeted, and
this had deadened the sounds of his footsteps.

Never was a man more bewildered and as-
tounded than was the detective when he felt the
clasp of the negro’s strong arms. All the ad-
vantage was on the side of the black.

Nevertheless, be determined not to submit
without a desperate struggle. He tried to wheel
around that he might the more successfully cope
with his adversary. But the negro hadagrip
of iron.

He was not so tall as Singer Sam, but he was
heavier in build and equally as strong. Evenly
matched, it would be hard to say which might
have come of! victor. As it was, there seemed
little hope for the attacked man.

Singer Sam, struggling with the energy of
desperation, almost succeeded in breaking away;
when a heavy blow on the head from the negro’s
fist brought him to the floor senseless.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
WHITEER'!

As the detective fell to the floor, Madame
Muriel ran forward with a little cry of tridmph.

“ You have not killed him?” she asked, the in-.
t0nation showing that she wished he had.

She could see, however, that Singer Sam was
only temporarily stunned. Already he beganto
show signs of reviving.

The negro stood over him; and, as he began to
move, drew out a knife.

“ I wish we dared to stab him here, and have
done with him!” the madame grated, With un-
femiuine fierceness and vindictiVeness.

She glanced about the room.

“ It would not be safe!" whispering the words
as if to herself. “ No, it would not be safe!
We must dispose of him in some other way."

A moan came from the detective's lips, draw-
ing her to his side; and again she glared into his
face,with the look of a fiend.

Singer Sam recovered consciousness more
quickly than they thought. The blow had
knocked him down and somewhat stunned him,
but its effects had not been lasting. But he did
not immediately regain the full control of his
faculties. There was a hnziness of thought
and a general uncertainty and healtaucy, that
made it imp03sible for him to take advantage
of any opportunity which ,chance might throw
in his way.

He heard the madame’s last words, but he had
no power to spring erect and fight for hisliberty
and his life. .

“ He is coming to,” was her apprehensive de-
claration. “ Something must be done!”

She looked appealing [y at Jingo, who, with his
black clothing and blac face, seemed more like
a spot of gloom iu the dim light of the apart-
ment than anything else.

He put back his knife and lifted Singer S'im in
his arms;—trailing the detective’s heels on the
carpet as he essayixl to move him.

“ This way i” he whispered; and pushing aside
the curtains by which he had entered, disappear-
ed with his heavy burden.

The madame sprung to the drawer fr0m which
she had taken the wine, secured some articles,
and followed.

The detective knew that he had been lifted and
that he now was being borne from the room. He
made a desperate effort to struggle from the
negro’s hands, but it resulted in nothing. In his
present state he was powerless.

“ Kee still there!” and the black glared at
him asi he could freely murder him then and
there.

There were but few steps to be taken—only

narrow hall hidden by curtains, and into a
smaller room.

On the floor of this, the negro let the detec-
tive fail heavily; stretching himself with a
itaiigh of relief as the dead weight slipped from his

n are.

H van as he did so, Madame Muriel was at his
si e.

“ Here. take this!” was her nervous exclama-
tion. “ 0r, let me do it!

She pix-bed by the negro. knelt at the side of
Singer Sam, saturated a piece of cotton from a
bottle and a plied it to his nostrils. The
odor at once led the room. it was the odor of
chloroform!

Even with his senses halfdocked as they were,
Singer 8am ind this odor, and tried to
ht against the effects of the deadl drug.

a he rostooped down and heldy him, While
the ma ame continued to press the cotton
to his nose. Neitheg beingegpmined by

 

  
  

 

from the room recently occupied. 801‘088 8 I

 

    

.Ll . , -

their intense excitement, and having no time for
words.

The detective could feel his senses stealing
from him. A drowsy lethargy oppressed him in
spite of his efforts to resist it. All the power of
thought seemed dissipating. He felt as if home
through space on beds of down, or hammoclo
swung in an infinite void.

Presently he seemed to be sinking, sinking,
sinking! Dowu, down, down to unmeasured
depths! This was followed by a shock, and then
the darkness of total oblivion.

He awoke—it was a strange and unnatural
kind of an awakening—«in darkness. He was
chilled to the bone, the icy congenlment seem-
ing to havs settled BulfiK'ailllgly about his
heart.. He moved; and found that the chill
was produced by the pen! of cold water in which
he was lying.

After much effort he drew himself to his
feet and felt about. Damp and clammy walls
rewarded his touch. A piece of rotting wood
which he chanced to clutch crumbled wetly be—
tween his fingers. Wonderineg he looked up-
ward, moving sl0wly around in the water and
in the ooze which so plentifully abounded.

It did not take him long to ascertain that he
was plastered from head to ,foot with this
ooze. His feet sunk in it. It was ofamucky
consistency.

But where was he? A low cry escaped him,
as, looking upward as if through a narrow
slit, ho beheld a pale and trembling star.

A gleam of the terrible truth came to him as
memory be an to reassert itself. He recalled
his visit to adame Muriel, the effort to poison
him by means of the wine, the battle with the
negro! What followed that was extremely
dream-like and uncertain.

Yet here he was! He recognized the character
of the surroundings. He was at the bottom of
an abandoned mining-shaft, of which there
wereannmher in and about Mzneral Gap. No
ore had rewarded the projectors of the mine,
and no side excavations had been made. For all

raciical purposes, and to all seeming, he might
ave been in the bottom of an old well.

He looked up at the rim of the shaft, only
faintly discernible, and shuddered. And he had
been tossed from there! He could not doubt it.
gnly the water and the soft ooze had saved his

fe. ‘

Inadvertently, and scarcely knowing what he
was doiu , he puta hand up to his face. He
started. be thin beard was gone. He felt of
his head. The wig that helped to make up his
disguise had also disappeared. The beard had
been false, like the hair.

These discoveries led to a further examination,
and he soon learned that the coat he had worn
to Madame Muriel’s, and the tall hat were also
missing. The coat had been replaced by an-
other. As for the hat, it might be near him.
But when he felt around for it he could not find
it.

It required no very keen discernment to un-
derstaud the meaning of all this. He knew,
when «the madame placed the drugged wine

before him, that she had recognized him as,

Benton, the detective. That she had resolved
on his death; and that when, believing if he
was not already dead the fall would kill him, e
had been cast into the abandoned shaft, the p
vious precaution had been taken of making these
changes in his bodily appearance.

Though the shaft was deserted, there was a
chance that the detective’s body might be found
there. If so found it Would not be recognized as
the body of the medicine-vender, who might
have been seen entering Madame Muriel’s es—
tablishment. ~~ '

The woman was cool-headed and calculating.
She had reasoned that in all probability some of
the detective’s friends or aids knew of his visit.
if so, a search would be instituted. In that
event she could brazenly make the statement
that he had gone away as he had come. This
Could not be disproved; and she believed it
would be hard, if the body was found, to estab-
lish the fact that it was the body of the man who
had visited her. ’

She had played her cards well; and Singer
Sam, looking despairineg up at thqt one pale
star, fully realized (it. -

CHAPTER XIX.
Discovnm.

TOM HENDERSON twisted uneasily in the big
chair which he had drawn up to the window. He
was recovering rapidly from his recent hurts,
and could now get about Without assistance. He
was succeeding very well in his task of light
housekeeping, thong the monotony of the long
days sorely told on him. He was used to an aco
tive life, and chafed at this temporary confine—

ment. , ,

He had placed In- cbmr so that he could look
out down the street leading to the heart of the
gown, He was uneasy because of the long delay
in the return of Singer Sam.

As stated, the detective had told Henderson
and Marsden Where he was
also said that ii he did not return withina ivpn
time,.they might knowlthat somethiw  oo-i

  

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going: and he had. '

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curred to prevent. The time fixed had passed,
and he was still away.
When he could no longer endure the suspense,

Henderson got up, took his hat from a peg, and .

sallied forth into the street. He had no ver
well defined ideas of what he ought to do. Hg
hesitated to approach the authorities, and would
do so only as a last resort.

Sin er Sam had gone to Madame Muriel’s,
and enderson new beat his steps in the same
direction. He resolved to investigate the inat-
tei' privately before trying anything else. After
all, the detective might have prolonged his visit
considerably beyond the allotted time without
being himself aware of it. Madame Muriel was
a woman of rare conversational powers, and
could give to dull Time the wings of the mud, if
she,so chose.

Henderson’s first thought, almost, was of
Laura Dutton. He had been acquainted With
Laura for many months. It was only a casual
acquaintance, which had never been pursued,
b'ut it had left its impression on him.

To Laura then he went: avoiding the front
entrance and cautiously approaching the kitch-

en.

He found Miss Dutton in that asylum—for it
had become, to a large extent, an asylum for
her from the ill-treatment of the madame and
the major. They did not often follow her there
with their bitter words; hence she fled to it more
and more, as a shelter.

Since the time Jim Bass had so blusteringly
threatened Madame Muriel, the girl had enjoyed
a fair degree of peace and quiet. No violence
had been offered her, though she was snubbed
and made to feel her inferiority and menial posi-

ion.

“Glad to see you 1” said Henderson, his face

reddening with pleasure.
“The kindness of the girl’s greeting, and her
gentle tact, soon put him at ease. He ceased to
feel the awkwardness of his huge bulk and
found that his hands were more easy to dispose
of than he had ever dreamed could be the case.
Heretofore, in the presence of ladies, these mem-
bers had been utterly useless and unmanageable
—always in the way. NOW. as he began to talk
to Laura, he forgot that he had any hands.

With stammering impetuosity, he plunged
into the spbject that had brought him there.
Laura’s interest was genuine. She had heard
the medicine-vender on the street. and Bass had
told her something of him. Besides, that morn-
ing, she 'had seen him as he ascended the stair-
way. '

“Perhaps he is still in the madame’s room 1”
the girl suggested.

“ If I only thought he was!” and a volcanic
sigh shook the breast of the giant. “ I’m afraid,
though, that he ain’t there. I’m almost as sure
something has happened to him as if I had seen
it myself, and knowed all about it. He ain’t a
man to go back on his word: and it’s two hours
now over the time set for his return. Still if
you think he is there, it may be that he is!"
=He seemed not to notice the contradiction of
his statement.

“ I can mighty soon find out i”

Without further ado, Laura turned from the
kitchen and tip-toed softly up the stairway.
She did not enter the madame’s room, nor reveal
herself, but looked in through a door opening.
from the corridor.

The madame was engaged in telling the for-
tune of ayoung woman, who had come there
heavily vailed.

Laura listened long enough to be sure that
Singer Sam was not in the room. Then she tip-
toeii back as quietly asshe had come.

HenderSon read her message in her face.

“ He ain’t there?” anxiously. ,

“ He isn’t in the madame’s room, at any

“ I just knowed you wouldn’t find him!” with
a lufiibrious and despairing shake of the head.

“ ay he not have gone away again, after
ending his visit?"

Again Henderson sheek his head in that dole-
ful way.

“ If e had,” fixing his eyes earnestly on her,
“ he would have come strai ht to me. He told
me he would do that; and e’: not a man to
break his word.”

Even in his distress Henderson could not fail
to note the exceeding Char!!! {ind lgrace of this
young woman, who was assisting im so kindly
with her sympathies and her words. He thought
he had never seen a fairer being.

The truth was that Tom Hendersomwas deep-
ly in love With Laura Dutton, and had been for
many moons. He had never told her so. He
had never breathed to her a Word Of this deep
and hidden feelin . Oxen could not have tom
the secret from 8him. He never intended to
mention it; and yet be derived a melancholy
sort of satisfaction from it.

Whether Laura Dutton had any sim'iar feel-
ing for him was a matter that would have been
dimcult to determine. She was kind to him.
and always treated him with the greatest con-
sideration and resmcfi- But a woman is ‘2:
adept in conceding such things. It is seld
she wears her heart on her sleeve, as a men 1!
often known to do.
This statement. may not apply with equal

  

 

 

truth to all, but it does apply to that large class

of modest, sensible women who are the true ex- | where.

ponents of the best qualities of the sex.

Tom Henderson was in all res cts a very dif-
ferent man from Jim Bass. t was plain she
cared nothing for, Bass, though he had never
ceased to pour into her ears the story of his
love. Henderson was quiet and somewhat reti-
cent. He was as big of heart as he was of body;
and the true woman who gained him would
draw a prize in life's lottery.

“ I’m sure I don’t know what to think.” Laura
averred, coloring slightly under the earnestness
of his gaze. “ Your friend isn’t in the madnme’s
room.”

“He’s in the house, though,” and Henderson
brought his well hand heavily down on his
knee. “I’ll bet all I‘m Worth on that—though
that ain’t sayiii’ much. He’s in this house right
110W!"

This sudden vehemence caused Laura to again
exhibit traces of uneasiness, which were not un-
mixed with alarm.

Henderson sunk his voice to a low whisper,
and continued:

“ I know something about this Madame Mu-
riel! More than you do; though you have lived
solong under her roof. She’s adangerous wo-
man. A reg’lar devil!"

He checked himself, as if fearing he had been
too rude.

“ Beg your pardon; but it’s true! Singer
Sam’s come into this house, and he never went
out. He’s in it yit; dead or alive, I don’t know
which.”

There was a horrible suggestion in the words,
that chilled her. '

“I want to make a search of this house,”
Henderson continued, speaking in the same low
tone. “ Do you know any way that I can do it
safely? I don't want to bring the police unless
I have to.”

Laura was silent for a moment.

“ Are you acquainted with the house!"

“No; and that’s the trouble. If I was, I’d
manage to crawl through it without anybody
being the wiser. But I don’t know the garret
from the cellar.”

Again the girl was silent!

“ It may seem strange to you, but 1 can hard—
Irv say that I’m acquainted with it, myself.
/ here are certain portions which the madame
has never allowed me to visit. There are cer-
tain rooms that I look after; but I have had or-
dei‘s time and again not to go into her room
when she is not there.”

There came a strange expression into Hender-
son’s countenance as he listened to this confes-
SIOD. 3
“He’s in one of them rooms!” be affirmed.
“One of them very rooms that you’re not al-
l0wed to go into. What does she keep them
rooms for? To st0w dead bodies inf"

The girl shuddered.

“ That’s my solemn opinion! NOW, how am I
goin to get into them rooms? That’s the ques-
tion store the house. Can you tell m that?”

“ There is only one way,” Laura mad . answer.
“That is for me to guide ,you. I know where
all the rooms are; though some of them are so
cut up with curtains that it’s hard to tell where
one leaves off and another commences.”

_ “ Will on do it?”tremblingly and hesitat.
ingly. “ s‘pose I onghtn’t ask it of you!”

The girl was well aware of the risk she might
run in acting as guide in such an undertaking.
The madame was vindictive and treacherous.
Laura’s lot there was not a happy one, at its
best. To bring down new wrath on her head,
as she would certainly do if discovered, was not
advisable. She hesitated, however, but for a
moment.

“ I will i” courageously and unflinchingly.
“Of course, you wi protect me if the madame
should see me. It would be just like her to fly
at me in a rage and tear the clothes from my
back, or pull a my hair out. You say you
know the madame; but she has some tricks that
you cannot be as familliar with as I am i”

She tried to assume a cheery air. but failed.
Despite her effort to remain firm, she was al-
rea
vealed a sus icious uiver. Still, there was a
smile on her ace, which to Tom Henderson‘s in-
fatuated eyes was like the li ht of heaven.

“ I don’t want to get you nto trouble!” he re-
joined. “But I do .want totake a look into
them rooms. Hang it all! of course 1’11 Protect
you! If the madame makes this house too hot
to hold you, I think it could bearranged for you
to go somewhere else.”

He would have liked to offer her his own
home{ in such an event, and his hand and heart;
with t.

Having agreed to pilot him through the build-
ing, Laura not deem any further words

necessary.

“Came up this stairway,” throwing open the
door leading to it. “ If we’re seen here, I can
say that you wanted me to show you to the
madame’s room so that you could get our for-

“11:; tgid. I think this is the most new“!
p on; bad whispe and now

   

 

red these word
tobarllpstoenjan
"said ,

w.

pressed her d

I

v! dipping

"

y trembling. and the tones of her voice re»

SingerfiSam, the Pilgrim Detective.

ioff his boots. “I’ll have. to hide these some-

l
i

i
I
|
i

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l

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I

~ you, unless they do it over my

  

 

I’d makeso much noise with these on
that I‘d Le sure to be heard.”

“ And if seen on the stairway with them off,
what about the fortune-telling story?”

Henderson had not thought of this, and he
slipped the boots on quite as quickly as he had
drawn them off, and followed her without fur—
ther hesitation.

The stairway was passed in safety; and the
carpets of the floors beyond rendered the re-
moval of Henderson’s boots a thing not de-
manded.

As they stood breathless in one of the corri-
dors, they heard the madanie’s visitor leave the
place; and the madame, after having accom-
panied her to the door, returned to the den.

11 arriving at the first of the rooms which
Laura intended to conduct him to, it was found
locked. But Henderson had a key which
chanced to fit. There was nothing in this room,
however, to reward their eager search.

As they turned again into the corridor, and
while Henderson was still locking the door,
some curtains not far away were thrust aside;
and, to their consternation, they saw Madame
Muriel.

 

CHAPTER XX.
a FEMALE FURY.

Tm: ‘nadame uttered a scream, which at once
brought Tobe Tinchman bounding upon the
scene of action.

Tinchman had been sitting half aslee in a
little room adjoining the corridor. On y for
this sleepiness he must have heard Henderson
and Laura as they entered the other room.

Dinsmore had kept close watch overTinch-
man since the night he had tempted him with
the liquor. Not once had the cracksman been
permitted to wholly recover from the effects of
that first intoxication. He had been constantly
plied with drinks, for the purpose of bolstering
his courage.

But Tinchman had not been equal to the task
amigned him. Invariably when an opportunity
Seemedtopresent for picking a quarrel with the
medicine-vendor, his liquor-born courage had
oozed out at his finger-tips. He could not for-
get his experience in the mine. .

When Tinchman stumbled out into the corri»
dor, aroused by that scream, he was rubbing his
heavy eyes as if not yet sure whether awake or
the victim of a delirium.

The sight of Henderson and the girl tended to
sober him and restore him to his normal condi- ;
tion. I

He gave a whoop, and was about to make at
Henderson with a rash impetuosity; but he dis-
creetly changed his mind when he saw Hen-
derson square himself to meet the attack.

“Put him out!” commanded the madame
dancing about in a perfect fury. “ Kill himl
Kill them both!”

The effect of the discovery on Laura Dutton
was terrible to witness. She became as white
as a corpse, trembled violently, and seemed
about to sink into a faint.

“ Don't you run!” Henderson whispered.
“They sha’n’t hurt you. They sha’n’t git at
body. You
stand right there! I hain’t afraid of both of
them!”

The girl scarcely heard his words, so great
were her fears.

“Shoot himl” Madame Muriel commanded,
glancing sternly at the hesitating cracksman.
“Are you a coward, Tinchman! Why don’t
you do something?”

Tinchman appeared tonnderstand that Hen-
derson and Laura were there for purposes dan-
gerous to the safety of the band; but this did
not make him more desirous of risking his neck.

At this show of the white feather. the ma-
dame’s furybecame fairly fiendish. There can
be no doubt that if she had had a weapon she
would have used it.

Seeing that Tinchman meant todo nothing
she uttered a little cry of scorn and hate, and
disappeared behind the curtains.

She was back again almost instantly.

Henderson had sturdin refused to retreat, but
was defiantly awaiting Tinchman’s advance.
Tue latter, stung to the quick by the madame’s
scorn, was min dancing forward, in orking his
fists pugilistlcally. ; i

It was at this moment the madame rted the
curtains. There was a bottle in her and, and
with a quick motion she hurled its contents.
Even as she did so her foot tripped against
the carpet, and caused her to Sway so that she
only saved herself from falling by clutching the
curtains. '

Ascresm of intense pain came from Tinch-
man. The bottle had contained vitriol. It had
been intended for Henderson and Iaura. The
tripping of the madame’s foot had diverted her
aim, and the horrible stufl descended on one of
Tinchman’s u lifted hands. burning it and the
arm in a terri le way.

The madame saw how she had blundered, and
reeled hack, faint and gasping.

u and down ina perfect pamxysm a
yellattgetopofhi'slnngs. ',

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As for the mcksman, he could do nothing but ,  '

       

 

 

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V t. h 1' Vt k‘ 5...

,.

ingler’Sa‘m, the \Detective. I

   

 

 

‘ “We’d better slide,” was Henderson’s excla-
mation, when he saw what had happened. and
understood the dastardly nature of the madame’s
attempt. “ She may have some more of that
track!”

Laura was too much frightened by all that
had occurred to be any longer the mistress of
her own actions. .

Henderson saw this, and pushed her gently
before him along the corridor.

Neither the madame nor Tinchman endeavor-
ed to stop them; and in a few moments they
were safe Within the kitchen.

“ It won’t do for ,you to stay here any longer!”
said Henderson, looking pityingly at the girl.
“ I’ve got you into had trouble, and I’m sorry
of it. But there’s a way out! You can leave
here!

“Git what things you want to take along
with you, for that she-devil may be down on us
in a little whilel”

Laura shivered, as she began mechanically to
obey. Much of her clothing could not then be
got at. She took what she could find; and to-
ge er they left the building.

hey went straight to Roscommon’s office.
Fortunately they found him in; and with him
Cecil Marsden.
‘_ Cecil looked up with unfeigned surprise. He
knew that something out of the ordinary had
happened. The pallor of Laura’s cheeks and the
perturbed expression of Henderson told as much.

The girl seemed to brighten, however, now
that she felt shelwai safe under another roof and
among friends.

Without a Word she took the chair which the
young lawyer Pourteously offered her; and
Henderson, with very little preliminary, plunged
into an account of what‘had occurred.

The young lawyer and his clerk were much
disturbed by the story. They were ready=to be-
lieve with Henderson, that some ill fate had be-
fallen Singer Sam.

’ Rosconimon fora few moments gave himself
up to silent thoughtfulness.
- " 1 don’t blame you for having tried to find out
whether Singer Sam was in the house or not,”
he said, finally, addressing,r Henderson. “But
I’m sorry that it turned out as it did. I didn’t
want Miss Dutton to leave there. I was begin-
imng to count on her to aid us by a little spying.
She'll not be able to do that, now!

“But that isn’t tiie most pressing thing, at
resent. We must find out about the detective.
don’t know of any better way to do that than

to go straight to Madame Muriel,and by threats
force her to tell what she knows. I dOn’t think
1 it wise to call in the police, yeti”

His decision was received by Henderson with
'a si h of relief.

“ ’m read to go with you!” the latter an-
nounced. “ he sooner we go the better. If
they had him there, they’ll be likely to take him
away,nuow; and they’ll be apt todo it mighty
quick.

Cecil was an interested listener, though he
said nothing,

Roscommon scribbled a note.

“Take this,” he said, handing it to Cecil,
.“ and accompany the young lady to Mrs. Blair’s,
at the corner of Covent and Fourth Streets.

- 'She will give Miss Dutton a home until other
arrangements can be made.

“ Just another minute i” as Cecil was about to
take up his hat.

Again he turned to the table and hastily
giving the writing to Cecil when he .had

n

“ It’s best to take some measures of recaution
before going to Madame Muriel’s. f we are
not back at the end of an hour. take this to the
Police Headquarters. They will know what 'to
do, when they read it. Rememberk'if we are

' not back here at the end of an hour!

Cecil and the girl left the omoe shortly after-
ward. It had grown dark b the time they
descended into the street but t e light from the
electric lamps rendered surrounding objects
almost as visible as at noonday. They experi-
enced no difficulty in finding the residence at the
corner of Covent and Fourth; and Mrs. Blair

when she had read the lawyer’s note, receiv
the rl with motherly kindness.

thin less than a half-hour Cecil was back
at the omee. He found it deserted. RoscOm-
moo and Henderson were one; and with a
heavy heart the youth sat own to watch the
going of the slowly moving minutes.

CHAPTER. XXI.
rim MADAME Dnrnii’r.
~, . i‘ls there anything I can do for you, gentle-
: men/i" '
: Madame Muriel, composed, but is in its
of the rouge she had been apply ng, sat a a
cemfortahie chair, and toyed with mmatrinkets

 

 

 flying on a table near her. .

r Her question was addressed to Roecommon

They had ted no time in visitin the

house, buthad f and some trouble in a ng

, admittance. Their rings at the bell had n so

imperious“ however, that the madame had de-
nuded to open the door. 4

' Thehoy was gone, she said, and it was after

business hours. I , ,

‘ i. .

3 .. and Henderson.

\
I

    

/

She had been on the point of closing the door
have a talk With her, and she could take her

presence of police.

She had yielded, and led the way up the
stairs.

“i thought perhaps you might know without
requiring us to tell you!” answering the ques-
tion at the head of this chapter.

She laughed lightly and jingled the trinkets in
her hand.

but I don’t tell even fortunes for fun.”

“ We have come to ask on what you have
done with Sam J0hnson,— inger Sam as he is
commonly called f”

The madame succeeded admirably in looking
surprised.

“ He came here to-day. He was seen to enter
this house, and he was not seen to come out of it.
He said he would come home by a certain hour.
He did not do it! Likely you can tell us whyl”

Tlhe madame showed her white, even teeth in a
3ml 6’.

“ Now you’re speaking in riddles. I thought
you had come up here on behalf of your very
dear friend there, and the youg lady he took
away with him. We hada little trouble, un-
fortunately, and I lost my temper. It Would
try the temper of an angel, I fancy, to be
treated as I was. That man there was actually
going through my rooms like a common
burglar!”

Roscommon saw that she was trying to avoid
as long as possible the subject of Singer Sam’s
,disa pearance.

“ hat is not to the point,” dryly. “ We came
here with only one object. That was to learn
what has become of our friend, Singer Sam.
You can tell us what became of him, for he did
not leave this house.”

“ But he did leave this house i”

“ I say he did not 1”

“How do you know that he did not? Did
you stand on the street below to ascertain if he
would oome down? He came here, I admit; and
henwent away again. That’s all I know about
it!

“ You’re lying to me, Madame Muriel l” with
uncommon sharpness and sternness. “Idon’t
like to say that to a woman. But you’re lying
to me. Singer Sam did not leave this housel”

“ Find him then, if he is here. If he did not
leave the house, he is certainly in it yet. If
you can find him you’re welcome to him. I’m
sure I don’t know what has become of him; and
I’m sure I don’t know why you should come
makin such charges against me.

“ Is it honorable, entlemen, for you to treat a
lady in that way? on two big, strapping menl
You know I can’t help myself, or you wouldn’t
dare to do itl”

“Send for Dinsmore, then, and Tinchman,
and any others you like. We will say the same
to them i"

"‘ And the hi geri” Henderson put in. “Send
for him/ I’d lke to see him. He’s the chap
that tried to blow up my house not long agol"

'The madame retained excellent control of her
lhem r. When she replied, there was an icy
coldness in her voice.

“.I would send for them if I knew where they
were. The major has not been here to-day.”

Szie hesitated for a moment, and then up

reached the hell by which she had summoned

in o to the attack on the detectivs.

“ me one of them may come if I ring,”
she said, looking at Roscommon with one of
her rarest smiles.

There was something in this smile that warn-
ed the young lawyer of danger.

“ You my ring that hell if you like, Madame
Muriel; but before you do so, you may as well
understand that it won’t be safe to play any
treachery a must us. You have already said
that none 0 these parties are in the house, and
now you propow to ring for them!

“I left a slip of paper with my emce-boy,
which he is to take to Police Headquarters if
we are not back at the end of an hour. Now,
that you understand the lay of the land, you
my ring if you want to!” '

he madame smiled adgain, this time defiantly;
and, reachin up. pulle the hell three times.

They coul not know that this waea far dif-
ferent signal from the one she had given in
summdning J ingo to her aid.

She listened for a few moments, and then re-
iiumed her seat.

“ I did not think there was any one in the
house!” again occupying herself with the trink-
etS. “The ring did no harm, though. in 3PM
of the fears of our legal friend i” ,

This was accompanied by no uncertain sneer.

“ Our time is slippinii: by, Madame Muriel.”
and Roecominon 100de at his watch. “ If we
do not accomplish something soon, the hour will
expire and the police will come."

“ Let them come!” with a disdainful smile.
“I shall extend to them the liberty of the
house,“ I did to on. They can look to their
hearts’ content. ,nd when they have looked,
and satisfied themselves, they can go away

ini” .
“in-mm M in MM lib-N“!
_ ,3 .2 ¥

 

again, when Roscommon had stated they must ,

“ It’s true I might, for I’m a fort‘une‘teller; l

chowe of conversing with them alone or in the .

 

   

murder of Singer Sam—for she did not then
know that the murder was not consummated—-
could not be unearthed, and she was therefore
inclined to extreme boldness in her statements.

In spite of his acuteness Roscommon was
baffled by her demeanor. He did not doubt

‘ that she had guilty knowledge of the detective’s

fate. He began to think, though, that, whether
alive or dead, Singer Sam was not in the house.

“Perhaps you think we can be put oil” in
this way,” he observed. “ If you do, Madame
Muriel, you’re sadly mistaken. If nothing
come-s of this visit of ours,I intend to inform the
police of the medicine man’s disappearance,
and of our suspicions, and I shall bring them
straight to this house. You and every one in it
will be placed under arrest to await the result
of the investigations, and the house will be
searched from garret to cellar.”

“ Roscommon, you’re a fool!” with bitter em-
phasis. “A man with any legal sense, a man
who has ever had any experience with crim-
inals, ought to kn0w better than to expect to
force such a confession, as you’re now trying
to do. I don’t know anything about your
friend! But, suppose I didl—suppose I had
killed him—do you think that I would up and
tell all about it in reply to your questions!
Roscommon, you’re a fool l"

The young lawyer felt the force of her re-
flections. He had come there with hopeful but

very vague ideas of what he expected to accom- V

lish. e had fancied that the madame might

reek down under threats, and admit every-
thing. He had found her a very different sort
of woman. She was a tigress at bay.

“ Very well,” not (lei ning to notice her
strictures. “If you wont confess anything
a way may be found to force you to. I shall
set the investigation on foot. If you are as
innocent as you assert, no harm can‘come of
itl” .

He arose, to indicate that the interview was
at an end; and, accompanied by Henderson,
who had not spoken a dozen words, left the
house. ____

CHAPTER XXII.
' A STARTLING ansrrmmxcs.

To return to Singer Sam, whom we left in the
oozing slime at the bottom of the old mining
shaft.

His condition was pitiable in the extreme.
Now that the effect of the chloroform was pass-
ing awayi he began to feel the pain of his in-
'uries. e Was badly bruised; and, when he
ooked up at the mouth of the shaft, he wondered
that he was still alive.

In addition, he felt chilled to the bone. _

What to do he knew not. It was plain he
could not climb out without assistance. The
sides of the well-like place Were slippery and al-
most perpendicular. I

He felt around, vainly hoping he might find
some timbers to assist him. A few remained in
place, but they were too rotten and crumbling
to be of the least service. .

His fingers touched a bit of board, an inch or
two wide and less than a foot long, that had not
yielded to the general decay. He clutched it as
an anchor of hope. .

The examination made of his clothing and
person had revealed the fact that he had not
a single useful article about him. His revolver
and knife were gone; likewise his watch!
Ever thing had been taken that might serve to
,identify him.

Urged by despair. be grasped the bit of board,
and b» an to ollow out niches in the damp
soil. e fancied it might be possible to di
steps by which he could mount. He dug two 0
these: and'then tried to climb up by them so that
he could scrape out another above.

The slippery soil had no firmness. It gave
way under his wei ht, and he was precipitated
splashingily to the tom.

Ashe id not know in what direction from
the town this shaft was, he could not determine
what chances there might be to obtain aid from
powers-by. It was a reasonable presumption
that, an so]
those who had thrown him there.

Nevertheless, in the hope that something
might come of it, he liftedv'his voice in the famil-

, iar strains of his street songs, and began to

sing:

A HUNDRED FATIOMB DRIP.

“There's a mine of Wealth untold, in a hundred
msdeep'

fat .
There's co ntless stoic: of the earth‘s red gold, in

a hundred fathoms deep;

Glittering gems from a thousand brows, cum.
prayers and terror vows,

1" a hundred fathoms deep, in a hundred fathom.

In a hugdi-gd fathdms deep, in a hundred fathom
deep. ‘

“The king sits on his throne. in a hundred
af‘étthomii deep,
And iaunhs as he 0 aims all for his own. in a hun-
dred 1hull?!“ghee”; hoards th
arem no es, - esearem seam
The” treasures. my world affogis. ' y

In". hundred fathoms deep, in a hundred fathom: "

deep . . .
In a hu‘iiidredfathoms deep, in a hundred fathom! . .
  can!   .y  - ,  v , v  - .

. t

 

ated location had been chosen by ‘

    
 

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..-n~.... .'» ~ .,

"t‘

'~$.~.u.a»«;.v ,

  

 

: l "Singer  t

"(31; ., ‘.  v

i e Pilgrim ‘ DeteCtive.

w. . r» ,r ‘>.- an: _~,;"/l . V‘ ,. r ‘ “
v:  , ‘9 .1..,,:\_»l .

 

 

 

He put as much force into this as possible, i boy. “It's me, Singer Sam, or rather what’s

hoping to Send the sounds a sufficient distance .

beyond the place if thereby they might happily
attract attention.

This first song drew no one: and be selected
another, in a ~hai'per. keener key. What inter-
vals he had bet ween singing he gave up to calls.

He was int rrupted in one of his outbursts of
song by a hail from above

“Hello: down there! What are ye doin’ in
that hole? A-singin’ away as if you was a mer-
lll‘lili adsoiiibin‘ of her hair!”

Singer Sam could not mistake that voice. It
was the Voice of Jim Bass. He could haVe wept
for very joy

Instead. he shouted back. as coolly and calmly
as possible.

“I’m a-tryin‘ my lungs under new circum-
stances. Tnink of turnin" myself into a deep
sea‘diver, an’ an] a-practicin’ fer the occasion l"

“ Who air ye, anyway? I’m dud-gasted, if
this don’t beat me! A-whoopin’ it up that way
at the bottom of a well i”

It is little Wonder that Bass did not recognize
the detective’s voice. Coming from that depth.
it sounded strange and unnatural. Besides, Bass
had never dreamed that it might be Singer
Sam.

“ Come down an' seel If ya don’t want to do
that. git a rope an’ windlass an‘ pull me out 0’
here. Then. if ye don’t kn0w me, I’ll interduce
myself."

Bass did not stay to waste words. He darted
away; and in a very short time returned, with
a big coil of rope and three or four men.

He had found the rope and the men at a
miner's cabin some hundreds of yards distant.

“ Hook this around ye," he cried, lOWering a
noose into the blackness. “ an' we’ll have ye out
0' therein a jiffy."

The rope was sent down rapidly. When the
nose reached Singer Sam, be adjusted it into
the form of a seat; and, clasping the rope above
his head was slowly and painfully drawn
out. -

The men were panting heavily from their ex—
ertions, as they grasped him and draw him over
the mm.

The light of a lantern was flashed in his face.
Jim Bass drew back in astonishment. The fact
that the man had been singing—and perhaps a
familiar something in the tones—had gradually
led him to believe that it must be Singer Sam.
But surely this was not Singer Sam who was
revealed by the light.

There was not a man in the town who had
seen the medicine-Vendor in his street perfor-
mances that Would have recognized this as the
same indIVidiial. The plastered condition of his
clothing aided, of course, in the metamorphosis,
as did also the blood streaks dismloring his fore-
head and matting his hair. But the greatest
change was the absence of the heard, the tall
hat, and the wig. ,

” Dad-gust it!" drawing back in amazement.
" I thought you was an old chum of mine. I’m

\ beat!" \

Singer Sam was not sorry he was not recog-
nized. He had no special desire to have it known
at that time that he was a detective in disguise
rah? had been attacked and thrown into the
s a t. -

“ I’m not acquainted with your town!” still
further concealing his identity by changing his
voice. “I was stumbling about in the dark
here awhile ago and fell inio the thing. I’m
sure, l’m obleeged to you gentlemen for getting
me out. “ ’Twould have been rather a Wet bed
to sleep in."

“ It’s a wonder it didn’t break your neck 1" One
of the miners observed.

"’Tis so! I’ve been telling myself that ever
since I took the tumble. l’m wet and cold, but
I’ve got dry clothes.at my hotel. My name is
Kiosk-Philip Kin —-and gentlemen, again I’m
obleeged to you. if my friend, here, that found
me," indicating Bass, “ will 0 along with me a
distancofl’ll be more obl . I’m shak ; and
there may be more of them holes around !’

Jim Bass was anxious for a further acquaini’r
nuce With the man he had been so strangely in-
strumental in rescuing. and be readily acceded
to the detective’s wish. -

Singer Sam did not realize how severe his
bruises were, until he began to walk, 39 could
hardly move, the pains produced by each step
were so great. There waslikewiao a disagree-
able and dizzy throbbin in his head. He had
been struck on the h by Sam heavy instru-
ment, which had caused the efluslon of blood,

' and a big lump now indicated Where  blow

had fallen. ,
Nevertheless, he bore up bravely; and, when
they had passed beyond ear-shot of the m ,
it); asked, in the voice so familiar to theoow-
‘ ‘V‘Ye think yo don’t know moi"
Jim Bass recalled with an exclamation of

surprise.

“ Dod-gast me! Is it Johnson, after all!
I thou tit was you when you w... in the welll
Shot 6 can’t be! I must be dreamin’

He peered closely into Singer Sun’s face, but
saw nothiu of the familiar features.

“ Well, hoes. your fu’st guess WI. right!”
reaching out his hand to clap thupf tligroow-1

 

 

Va!
.,: l

 

     
 

 

left of me!”

” But yer—yer—beardl— Yer—”

“ I understand all that. I've beien changed
somewhat, Transmogrified! Made over into a
new man! I‘ve had the gentle barber a-hold of
me. Likewise the tailor! Likewise the butcher,
the baker and the candlestick-maker. If my
mother—in-law should run acrost me she’d take
me fer a freak out of a dime museum. I don’t
blame you, Bass, for thinking me a mermaid.
Hitch a tail on to me aii’ mebbe I’d pass for that.
I’m a-f‘eelin’ jist now as if I’d pass for ’most any-
thing.

He shook Bass‘s hand warme as he gave
utterance to these characteristic phrases.

It required a full minute for Bass to fully com-
prehend this change and realize he had heard
aright. Then he poured out a flood of questions.

The detective replied to them, explaining
everything at length, as they continued on into
the town.

Bass had not visited Madame Muriel’s that
day, nor had be seen anything of Singer Sam’s
intimates. Hence, he did not know what had
occurred, and what was then occurring.

Singer Sam, however, knew that Henderson
had long since commenced some sort 01’ search
for him, and had probably called Cecil and Ros-
cmnmon to his aid. This knowledge made him
anxious to hasten his footsteps, and urged him
on in spite of the injuries from which hesuf-
fered. /

He smiled as be turned into the street leading
toward Hehderson’s. A plan had come into his
mind. He saw no light in the house. but he had
a key with which he could gain admittance.

“Go to Roscommon’s ofllce," he said, as he
parted from Bass, “and whoever you find there,
tell them you have seen me, and that I‘am all
right. You can sa whatever else you may
want to, but that wi 1 be enough!”

He turned toward the house, from which he
did not emerge for nearly a quarter of an hour.
When he came out he was again the medicine-
vender—rusty clothing, tall, battered hat, thin
whiskers, and all. His supply of disguises was
abundant. He had had somewhat similar ex-
periences before, and had learned to prepare for
emergencies.

The hour was late for the beginning of his
street performances, but he believed it was not
too late for him to draw a crowd. At any rate,
he could do what he intended. He had his
guitar-case under his arm, and strode down the
street in his old, familiar way, concealing his
injuries and his limp as well as he could.

He had resolved to set up his torch beneath
Madame Muriel’s window, and sing a song or
two for her delectation. This he would do, even
though he felt at that moment he ought to be in
bed. He could not resist the temptation to give
her a genuine surprise.

Henderson and Roscommon had not been gone
from the .house fifteen. minutes, when Singer
Sam, as t e medicine—vendor, set up his torch in
the str just: in front of the madame’s room,
and began to twang his guitar.

A crowd commenced to collect; and lifting his
voice so that it could not fail to be heard by the
madame, he began to sing:

“ Oh! COme my love, and go with me! Ahlmylove,
1’]! meet you!
I‘ll togs you in a mining shaft! Toss you, by and

3 t .

Wipe v -ur eyes. and don‘t you cry; come, my love,
’1! meet you! .

I‘ve come back, so stop that sigh! meet you by and

byl
Whack dat head! Whack dat head. Jl oi Whack
dat head! Jingo, whack dat h l

“ Oh. look from dust window. in live and my dovei
Oh, look from dat window, on‘t you hear? Ohi

5’. yes!
I can’t come some other night, for dar‘s goin to
be a ght!
Dar'll be worse dan razors flyin’ in the air!"

He sung the song through, making such ver-
bal changes in it as were necessary to more per.
fectly fit it to the present instance.

It was an old and familiar song; and although

the motley crowd did not understand just what

he was driving at, et the name of J ingo served
to catch them; on they whooped and yelled in
a most boisterous way.

Being extremely good at manufacturing
camel? verses on the spur of the moment, he
add to the song many things never dreamed
of b the ori n composer; all of which were
recs vod wit the same wildneclaim.

All this time he was narroWIi watching the
window above him. He thou t he saw the
curtain pushed aside. and even ancied he,conid
see a white, scared face peering dawn at him.

This was not Wholly imagination.

The familiar voice had reached the madame
in the seclusion of her den. She was, at the
time, pacing nervoualy up and down. brooding
on what had recently occurred. he was espe-
o'ifilly fearful or the result of i

t. .

She stopped‘ tho as thoson floated to her;
mid! approaching iii; window. rew the curtain
as o. .  ‘ ’

Thesihtshebeholdfmuethobiood inner
voimongolmmtlti ‘ the   ‘ Whoa”,

  

f'rx'

    
 

 

She could not believe she was awake. This
must be Some horrible vision that had come to
haunt her sluiiibersl She starcd at the crowd,
at the street, at the singer. She gave herself a
vicious pinch.

She could not deceive herself. She was
awake! And that was Singer Sum dOwn there!
He had escaped after all! And had come back
there to flaunt the fact beneath her very nose.

Was the man proof against death? Surely he
must be. She remembered the bl0w on the
head and the chloroforming. She had looked
into what she believed to be a dead face. Yet
there he was. Not one of his disguises was
missing. There was the hat, the straggling
heard, the same rusty coat; in his voice was the
same peculiar nasal twang. He had gone from
her room a dead man, with all his identity-con-
cealing artifices stripped off; and here he was,
just as she had been accustomed to see him night
after night.

She could not speak; she could not move!
Her breath came painfully, and in gasps.
mist seemed to swim before her eyes. She
clutched at her throat; then reeled, and fell to
the floor in a deathlike faint.

CHAPTER XXIII.
BEHIND MASKED BATTERIES.

ROSCOMMON and 'Henderson, with Cecil
Marsden, coming around the street corner, be
held Singer Sam as he thus sung and twanged
his instrument; and a feeling of gratitude that
he was still in the land of the living filled their
hearts.

Henderson and Roscommon had reached the
latter’s office just in time to intercept Jim Bass,
who was hurrying thither with his message
from the medicine man. It had not taken Bass
long to tell how and where he had found the do-
tective; and, without waiting for further words
from the cowboy, they had rushed into the
street with Cecil. Their intention had been to
go direct to Henderson’s, thinking they would
find Singer Sam there or on the street near
there.

Hence their surprise was great as they turned
this corner. ‘

Great as it was, however, they did not deem it
wise to interrupt the singer until he had finished
his songs, sold a few bottles of his medicine, and
blew out his torch preparatory to evacuating
the field.

“ I’m played out!” was Singer Sam‘s announce-
ment, after mutual greetings. “ I’m goin’ home
and goin’ to bed, an' intend to stay there till Ir
feel more like myself. It seems to me that the
whole world is spinnin’ around like a great big
buzz-top, an’ that my head is the little nob on

 



the top’s back. Ever had yer head feel that >

way? If you did, you can sympathize with me."

He Went home, and to bed, according to his
desire; but not until he had given to these
lflrjiendsafull account of all .that had befallen

nn.

He remained lubed until the evening of the
following day; then ot up, feeling something
like his old self, and an to prepare for fur-
ther movements against the madame and the
major.

Before rallying out into the street, however, he
had along talk with Henderson and

Manden;-— ‘

Marsden havmg butashort time before come ‘ ‘

home for his so per.

Darkness ha fallen, when the medicine-vendor
took his guitar and wooded his way toward Mn-
dame Mnriel's.
vice of his companions, to again visit her.

In thus poking his head once more into danger;
he did not do so without having first given due
consideration to the matter.

He deviated from his direct course, and drop-
ped in at a little police station, where he had I.
short consultation with one of the chiefs of the
force. Then he resumed his apparently aimless
strolling. and brought u in tho alley at the rear
of the madame’s ostablis merit.

He had resolved, against the 811- I

Before this rear door he posted himself, osten- »

tatiouslv tuned his instrument, and began
sing.
house; but there was a window from wh

knew the madame could look down and oeohim, ‘_ y’ ‘

ifsodisposed. He was determined to have an

interview with her. He believed that the iron ‘

‘0
There was no light on that side i

was hot for the striking, and he was ready for;

the blow.
These were the words that floated upward
from the alley.

“ Oh, look from thy window. my love,
On thy languishing lover below—
Oh. toss up the sash.
The n the glasses should crash,
And show im‘ thy features of snow-o—o,
And show him thy features of snow.

“ Oh. the black hats of night haver- near,
And the owl is abroad in the dark:
And these owls and these .bais,
And their comrades. the rats. -

Are foes of the poor, quay'ring lark—u-k—ut. "

Are foes ofthe poor quav ring lurk.

foes. are than black hate of night—
k Jigo and tb of his ilk—
\ thy lover, one, . .
ls thallln‘rkkingilt‘hulst‘sctiimmmof sun—aha. ‘ '
nmmxgwimnmmmoouux. ‘

 

 

    
  
 

   

 

 

, wants to see her.

’.

 

. not be safe!

 

. "1‘4, \ i'  41 .

. 

 

 

" Thou‘lt not choose the black hats. I am sure.
Nor the owls, with their horrible squeak:
Thou wilt take the pOor lurk,
Who doth sing in the dark,
With a sweetly melodious beak—esk—eak,
With a sweetly melodious beak.

“ So. look from thy window, my love,
011 th languishing lovor hclow!
Yes, toss up the sash,
Though thu- glasscs should crash.
And show him thy features of snow-o-o,
And show him [by features of snow. ”

He had barely conclulo-d this touching bal-
lad, when the door, in paint of mhiclt,he was
standing, was pushed open with no gentle hand
and a servant girl looked out. She had been
employed only the day before, to take the place

of the recreant Miss Dutt'in.

“You jist git out 0’ here!” was her unfem-
inine greeting. “ We haiu’t got no cold Vict-
uals to give to tramps. So, you jist clear out!”

Singer Sam knew that this was a game of bluff
instigated by the madame. He had no doubt in
the world that the madame had heard his sing-
ing and recognized his voice.

“ Don’t appreciate good music, I see!” and he
grinned, advancing toward the servant, so that
the light of the lamp fell full on his face.
“I’ve known that there song to draw tears
from the eyes of a book-agent; an‘ yit, you
don’t apprecrate it! Did ever a man git each a
mortal blow? I think I’ll sell my guitar an’ go to
callin’ swine for a livin’l”

The servant stared at him in open-mouthed
astonishment. She had never encountered just
another such man.

“ I hain’t a-singin’ fer victualsl I’m a-sin in’
to my sweetheart up there. The madame! on
tell her so, will ye! Tell her that Sam Johnson
It’ll tickle her so, that she’ll
order ,you to show me right up-stairs. See if she
don't!

The girl hesitated for a moment; and seeing
that the tramp did not intend to leave, she
withdrew from the door, closed and locked it to
prevent an invasion during her absence, and
tripped up the stairway.

She came back in a short time; and, in quite
a changed tone. told Singer Sam that the ma-
dame would see him.

“ What did I tell y0uf” tucking his guitar
under his arm, and giving an exuberant clock
with his tongue. “ She never sends Sam John-
son away 1”

At the top-of the stairway the girl drew aside
to allow him to pass, for the madame was visi-
ble in the corridor just beyond.

There was not sufficient light there to enable
the detective to fully discern her features; but
when they had entered the room, where a lamp
shed its radiance, he discovered that she was
deathly pale.

The change in her appearance since he had
beheld her last was unmistakable and startling.
Plainly she bud suffered intensely. There was
alanguor in her movements, and a dullness in
her eyes, beneath which wore heavy, black
lines. She had not expected a visitor, and
therefore had not prepared herself for this meet.-
ing by an application of cosmetics. This may
have accounted in part for the leaden hue of her
cheeks, but it could not account for all of the
telltale'indicati-z-ins.

“I am afraid, my dear madame, that you
havon’t been slumberin'g well?” interrogatively,
as he sunk without invitation intoan easy-chair.
“ You were so unkind the other day as to cut
off our interview at the most interesting part;
and so I have come to renew it!”

‘ “ What is it you want?” drawing back some-
:hat fearfully, and seating herself, as he had
one.

“You are not pleased to see me? I told the
girl you Would be. You oughtn’t to make me
out a liar in that way!”

He had cast aside his disguising dialect. and
addressed her in his natural tones. There was
no further need of playing a double part in her
presence.

She made no reply; and he looked about to
satisfy himself they were alone.

“I don’t care to have that ebony African
jump out at me again so lovingly!” a smile com-

ng to his lips. “ His love~taps are not admired
by yours truly!”

She looked toward the curtainstbrough which
Jingo harl ma-ic his appearance, as if she wished
him there at that moment.

" Don’t you do it, my dear madame! It would
[have come prepared this time
to foil any of your aflectionate tricks. No
salted wine for me this time; no chloroform: no
Juice-whacking on the head! I may as well
tell you at the start that none of those things
will work. In the first place, you can’t kill me.
if you want to. Your experience of the other
day ought to teach you that. I’m even proof
against minin shafts!

“ But to ma e assurance doubly sure I visited
a police station before coming here, an drop
two or three goodsized fieas into the ears of
the blue-cos l gentry. Likely, it will be news
to you when any they are now all around this
house, and watching itas if they were a reel
ment of cats watching a n‘mnsebols. Therc a
one of them standing at the foot of the front

i
a

"a .i- .4 . 1.31.1;‘r, f ,\ 
fistula-Wizi-“wrii '4 w." "v   "

  

 

If you doubt it. you

stairway at this moment.
Or

can investigate and satisfy yourself.
can send your servant.
Would take them for tramps!”

The madame had no reply to make to this.
She glared at him as a caged tigress might glare
at the springbok beyond its reach.

“ What is it you want?” was her hoarse de~ -

mand.

“ shouldn’t think you’d need to ask!” some-
what cuttingly. “ Your attempt to murder me
proves conclusively that you know who I am. I
don’t see, Madame Muriel, that there’s any ne-
cessity for either of us to go beating about the
bush. You know who I am?”

A cold bow was her only reply.

“ That makes it easier! Iam Wilfred Benton,
the detective. You have known that almost from
the first. At least, since the night of that do-
lightful singing-match. When I first came to
the town, I thought I would work wholly in the
dark. I did not intend to give you any clcw to
my identity. But circumstances changed my
plan. Still, as I had started in as a medicine-
vender, as a pilgrim and a stranger on this font-
stool, I thought it well to keep up the delusion.
There is no necessity for further fighting’ from
behind masked batteries.”

She was struggling desperately to obtain the
mastery of her feelings. Her hands were
clinched until the nails sunk deeply into the
flesh. Occasionally her lips opened, as he talk-
ed, but they gave. forth no sounds.

“ You know what I am here for,” running the
fingers of one hand through his beard. “ But I
don’t want to talk to you alone. I want Major
Dinsmore to hear what I have to say 1”

" He is not here!” she declared, with a little
shiver.

“ Oh, but he is!” in the same calm, even
voice. “ I have it on the best authority that he
came into this house not more than an hour
ago, and that he has not at gone out of it.
There have been some police shad0ws on the
street, my dear madame. I got my information
from them 1”

“ He went out the back way i”

“ But there were police shadows on that side!
Come, come, my dear madame! The ma'or isin
the house; and I must see him and tal with
him. I won’t be evaded !”

There was something so threatening in his
manner that the madame almost cowered.

“I can ring for him. but I tell you I don’t
think he is in the house!”

“Ring for him, then!
you don t signal for that negro.
healthy for you to do that.”

She did notimmediately move, but sat rigid-
ly staring at him.

“ I have Come out from behind my masked
batteries, and now you and the major must

ome out from behind yours. That was a

omb—mortar and a gatling gun combined that
you used on me the other day. There’s a lump
on my and yet as big as a oose-egg. Drop the
battery business, Madame uriel, and let’s get
down to something more sensible and effective.
Ring for the major. and remember that there
are policemen within hearing. Onc call from
me Will bring them swarming into the house.”

Shearose unsteadily, and pulled twice at the
bell.
There was no response for a long time, and
the detectivewas beginning to think Dinsmore
would not come; when suddenly the man made
his appearance.

He was almost as pale and agitated as was the
madame.

“ I had feared you had gone on alon journey,
or was sleepin l"and the detective smi ed sweet-
ly. “Major, ’m happy tomeet you. Intenser
hap y. 1 don’t think you need any introduction
to enton, the Detective!”

Dinsmore tried to assume a gay and light-
hearted air, but he failed miserab 

“0h, yes,I know you! We bar a pleasant
little time together some years ago.”

“ Pleasant indeed!” rubbing his hands together
as if the m .mory wag‘delightful,

"I come to see you again on a littlelbusiness. I
know you will be ratified to hear of it i”

“ Oh, cut that s ortl”

Dinsmore tried to laugh, but the effort result-
ed in something more nearly‘resemhling a snarl.

“If you’ve come on business, Benton, let us
hear of ,it. This tension is too great to be en-
joyehle.”

“ Very well. then!” thrusting his hands into
his pockets and stretching out his legs. “ Busi-
uses it is! A long time agol—quite a time ago,
me] , though the years have sat lightly on yout
~yo entered a home in a certain Michigan
town. not far from Chicago!

“ You remember Chic 0, ma 'or! You had a
little adventure in that p ce w ich caused you
to do itlmo at a certain institution 1 shall not
name

“ But that is not to the present purpow! You
entered this Michigan home, claiming to has
relative of the family. An uncle, was it not.
major? The husban and father of that home
had died, leaving a brother wandering some-
where on the mountains of this wear world.
You represented
you were. ~*

But be careful that
It won’t be

 

WW

( Singer Sam, the Pilgrim Detective.

!

you i in you.
Likely, though, she ! some relatives. There was quite a fortune, too—-

a
I

 

to-jtho widow and not or that. _

 

 

 

journeyings; and she believed you and trusted
There were two children, and perhaps

twenty or thirty thousand dollars—and it Wm;
the fortune you were after! You succeeded in
making this mother think the fortune had noth-
ing to do with your brotherly kindness. Brother--
ly, indeed! Dinsmore, you went there as a wolf
in sheep’s clothing—a blood-sucking, lifedestroy»
ing wolf. I don’t know but what it is a slander
on the wolf family to make the comparison!”

Up to this time neither the madame nor the
major had spoken a word: and now the detec-
tive stopped to see what effect these disclosures
were having.

“You are on the wrong trail, I can assure

ou!” Dinsmore declared, twisting uneasily.
“I think I know what you refer to, but I had
no band in it!”

“ The name of this Michigan family was Quin-
daro," paying no attention to Dinsmore’s de-
nials. “ There was a shadow of a great sorrow
over them at the time. You took advantage of
this sorrow. You did Worse! By some hellish
s stem of slow poisoning you killed the Woman!

hen you gathered in the. estate, took the youn-
gest of the children. and disappeared. That last
is a point on which I am not clear. There were
two children, and some say you took both of
them. You know more about that, no doubt,
than any one else!”

" 1 don’t know anything about it i” was Dins-
more’s very positive assertion. “ I tell on,
Benton, that you’re away off the track! 'ou
are barking up the wrong tree!”

“Oh, I guess not!" displaying a quizzical
smile. “I think I know Very well what I’m
talking about. One of those children, the irl,
was under this very roof onl the other ay.
You call her Laura Dutton, ut her’ name is
Nellie Quindarol”

A cynical, mocking look distorted the major’s
rather handsome face.

" You’re wrong, Benton! You’re dead wrong!
That girl’s name is no more Quindaro than
yours is Sam Johnson !”

The detective was not to be balked at this

int.

“ I said I had come to talk business. I havs.
This is the business: Restore that twenty thou-
sand dollars to its rightful owners, and I’ll go
away from here and not bother ou further.
I’ll look after the girl’s interests. t was more
than twenty thoi snnd —— but if you’ll put up
twenty thousand, l’ll be satisfied; and those
most interested will be satisfied. You ought to
be punished to the full extent of the laW, but
I’m not afraid but that you’ll succeed in hang-
ing yourself, or worse, before you’ve reached the
end of your career. Justice is popularly sup-

. to be blind or asleep; but my experience

as taught me that she always has one eye a
good deal more than half open. Justice will
settle your account, and the madnme’sl”

Madame Muriel had sat as stiff and stony as a
statue. Obviously she was relying on Dinsmore
to get them out of this scrape.

“ Will you pa over the money? That’s the
question 1’ and . inger Sam brought his hand
down on his knee with heavy force. “I’ll see
that the girl is made aware of her position, and
that she gets henrights! Will you pay over the
money?

“ he brother. whom you claimed to be, re-
turned to Michigan not lon ago; and I am
here at his solicitation. 1‘ ha a time in finding
the whereabouts of yourself and the madame.
Now that I have found you. I don’t mean to let
you go until you have made restitution !"

He saw by Diusmore’s looks that that in—
dividual had no notion of paying over so large
an amount of money, except as a last resort.

“You wori’t do anything? Why, Dinsmorel
it seems to me I’m very easy on you! I could
bring both you and the madame to the gallows,
for that poisoning affair; to say nothing of the
attempt to murder me the other day l”

The major could not conceal a sneer.

“It’s a long stretch of time back to that al-
leged ironing. [think you would find it ex-
treme y difficult to substantiate the charges you
have brought. And as for that matter of the
other day—I don’t know where you’d get your
witnesses to prove that.”

“ Then you don’t propose to do anything i”

“ I can’t pay an r twenty thousand. I haven’t
that much, if I wanted to pay it!”

“ You mean that it would bankrupt you to
hand over that sum in hard cash? You’re a rich
man. Dinsmore, as the world counts riches! I
wouldn’t carry the consumes-load you do,
though, for all you’ve got. .You can pay that
two ty thousand, if 0u Will. If you won’t do
it vo untarily I shall . no to take steps to make
you do it, and to punish you at the same time.

on can take our choice! I’m not going to
talk any ionizer -

He arose am took up his but as if to (mart.

Din-mom Whispered somethindg. to dame
Muriel, in reply to which the me shook her

head. ‘
“It’s fight. is it? Very well, then!”
He turned toward the madame.

to u up in a hall. You wouldn’t care to oin
mjrganothor singiog-matoh!" , _ i .1

" 1 guess I’ll have to notify you that I’m going .

 

\

 

mm..- -

_;. -.b.§.

      

 

}.
2‘.

 

.v M... -.. Janna».-. ‘_-.

 
   
 
 

v”, ‘ ‘ as

.F  ‘ ,..,

Singer Sam, the Pilgrim Detective.

'\-l»~__v\«  .5

19

 

 

The madame glanced up inquiringly.

"I think it advisable to set up in the medicine
business in some public hall. I sha’n’t go far
from here, you may depend upon it. Singing
on the street as I do, and expected to leave at
any hour, my disappearance, should I tumble
into another iiiiniiig~shaft, would not attract
much attemion. You might even be able to get
out of the country, before it was noticed.

"Sol guess I’ll set up business in a hall, and
announce to a long-suffering public that I intend
to stay a month, if the medicine-factory don’t
run out of goods.

“Long before that time, I hope both of you
will have come to your senses. In the mean
time, you needn‘t try to jump the town; for you
can’t do it without my knorvledge.”

He backed through the doorway, strode
heavily along the corridor and down the stair-
way, and disappeared in the alley; from
whence he made his way to the place of his
nightly meetings.

CHAPTER XXIV.
CHANGES.

“ WHAT do you think of that!”

Tom Henderson came into Roscommon’s office,
where were S2nger Sam and Cecil Marsden; and
as he asked the question, thrust a note into the
lawyer's hands.

Roscommon read it, and with a queer smile,
passed it to the detective.

Two days had ela d since the interview just
detailed, during which the warfare between the
two opposing parties had been in the condition
of truce.

The note, which read as follows, appeared to
astonish the detective:

" MR PAUL ROFCOIMON—t

" I learn that you have assumed guardianship over
Miss Laura Dutton. whose home was until lately at
my hous-a I desire that she should return. We find
her valuable much more so than the girl we have
employed 1l‘he conditions under which she left
were out of the common. She was piloting a stran-

er through our rooms which so angered Madame
.luriel that she said and did things in the heat of

assion for which she is now truly sorry. We prom-

e that if the girl returns. she shall be. well treated.

"Trusting this rctsuest may meet your favor, I am,

" S ncerely yours,
" Muoa Dissuons.”

Singer Sam passed it to Marsden, whose in-
terest in it was as great as that of the others.

“ What do you make of it?” Roscommon
asked, addressin Singer Sam.

The detective id not reply, for a moment.

“I may be wrong, of course; but the most

plausible theory seems to me to be, that they de-

sire to keep her near them. Perhaps they hope
to make their escape, and to take her along.
She does not know yet, I believe, that she is the
girl I am searching for l"

An odd look passed between Henderson and
Marsden.

“That hain’t all of it,"sai Henderson. “I
reckon you’ll hardly believe it. at the major has
hired me to do work about the house!”

There was a look of genuine amazement on
the faces of Roscommon and the detective.

“That’s jist what he has! You know he‘s a
part owuer in the mine. I happened to meet
him this morning. and he asked me how I was
a-gittin’ along; an’ I told him Iexpected to go
back in the mine in a day or two; an’ then he
offered me the job at the house."

“ And you took it?” was Roscommon’s breath-
less uestion.

“ ind o’ queer hain’t it? But that's jist what
I did! I hain’t afraid of him, ner the ma‘dame,
either; an’ the work’ll be a good deal lighter
there than in the mine.” .

Singer Sam laughed in a cynical way.

“ The prospect that the gal might be induced

, to return to the house had nuthin’ to do with

yer decision, I reckon?"

The color of confusion mantled the cheek of
honest Tom Henderson. He was well aware
that these friends had knowledge of his infatu-
ation for Laura Dutton.

ii iPon honor l" he asseverated. “ You’re away
off, there! I hadn’t no idea at the time that
they was a-goin’ to offer her the place. It might
’a' been a reason. if I'd 'a‘ knowed it; but I

- didn’t know it. ’Twill come handv. though, for

me to be around there, if she should go back. I
wouldn’t stand still and let them abuse herl"

There was a different intonation from that
with which Bass would have clothed his swellin
words, had he been in a condition to make sucg
a statement.

" Go for the girl and bring her here," said
Singer Sam, turiiin to Cecil. “ If she will take
that place againhl on’t khow that we could ask
anything better.

ecil eft the office immediately and while he
was absent they discussed this offer of the ma-
jor in all its possible bearings,

When the girl aWound—and they were not
compelled to wait long for her—they had re-
solved on a course of action.

Rowommon gave her the note; and after she

,had read it, he asked her if she was willingto

return again to the house.
Her face was polar; and she stood hasitatiug.

place of abode.

 

glancing from one to the other, as if uncertain
how to decide.

Thinking that inasmuch as he had already -

reVealeil his purpose to these friends, and there-
by secured their co—operation, it was advisable
to commit his interests also to her, Singer Sam
told her who and what he was, and something of
why he was there. He did not tell her, however,
that he believed her to be Nellie Quindaro, the
girl he was seeking.

There was much in his narrative to touch her
keencst sympathies and arouse her to a willing-
ness to do what she could tr.- aid him.

“Do you think you would fair to undertake
this task?” he asked, smiling at her, encourag-
inely.

There was a great deal of heroic fiber in Laura
Dutton. It was plain to the most uninterested
observer that she was afraid of the major and
the madame—having had abundant cause for
being so. Nevertheless, she spoke up with unex-
pected boldness.

“ I am willing to tr 1” :

Roscommon clapper his hands, a

“ That is the proper spirit,
That’s all any of us can do. Try.”

“ Ii’ eitherone of ’em lays his littlest finger on
you the ’11 hear from me i"

Tom iendersou could have bitten his tongue
ofi' as soon as the words Were uttered, so cha-
grined was he. The words had welled up so
strongly from his heart that he had given them
utterance almost before he was aware of it.

This was the first intimation the girl had that
Henderson was to be where he could be of any
assistance to her. The remark called for ex-
planation; and the miner was left to explain it
in his own clumsy way.

The girl flushed a vivid scarlet.
remark placed her in an embarrassing pesition.
If she acceded now to the detective’s re nest, it

rovingly.
iss Dutton.

i
I

 

l
i
l
r
i
l

The ill-timed I

I
I

might by some be deemed that she did t to be i

near Henderson. But she remembered that she
had already expressed a willingness to face the
den ers of a return to Madame Muriel’s.

“ will go!” seeking refuge by looking steadi-
ly at Singer Sam. I am afraid I can’t do
much good there, though i”

“ You understand what I wantofyou? I want
you to watch the madame and the major as
closely as you can. I want Henderson ‘to do the
same. Between you, you ought to ‘be able to
make some useful discoveries. There is a great
deal of mystery about that house. One of the
most mysterious things to me, is, h0w they re-
moved me from there when they thought they
had ut me out of the way.

“ am positive I was dragged into a room
by the negro; though, when was there the last
time, I couldn’t see anvthing of that room.

“ And that negro! Keep your eves on him, if
you can. I fancy it will beadifiicult piece of
work. If there ever was a slippery piece of
ebony, it’s that same Jingo. I never see him
about the streets, except sometimes when he is
driving the madame in the dusk of the evening.
I want you to pay especial attention to him;
both of you i”

3‘ As much as I have been there, I have never
seen him very often, myscll’,” said Laura,
thoughtfully. “ I’ll promise to do what I can,
though.”

There was a great deal more to. the same ef-
fect, which is not material to the interests of
this story. Then Laura took her departure, to
make arrangements for ,again changing her

 

CHAPTER XXV.
A DANGEROUS scum.

IMMEDIATELY after Singer‘s'im'g departure
from the presence of Madame Muriel and Major
Dinsmure, these two arch-scheiners commenced
to set on foot a plan that might prove extremely
dangerous.

0n the day Henderson entered the major’s
service, Tinchman and the Jew were called Th
consultation, and the plot thoroughly discussed.

Tinchman‘s various burglarious enterprises
was 'what first suggested it. There was no
more daring night-raider in the West than this
same Tobe Tinchman: and none more success-
ful. He had follovved the business for years;
and, altlihugh he had been nabbed by the offi-
cers. be generally managed to escape, or et off
with light sentences. access had in 0 him
bold and determined.

“ We’ve a little plan for you, Tinchman, and
for our friend,,Baurngard," the madame assert,-
ed, addressing them in her usual witching man-

ner.
The Jew did not look pleased at being thus
woken to. H9 knew from experience that it
was the harbinger of some request which he
might not desire to hear. The madame did not
Rive him any time for protest, if such was in.

" Our good friend, Tinchman.” looking at he
50". “has not had suflicient vertebra to In
this detective, as he a to do, and air the
major stood ready to pay him for doing.”

‘Twagn’t hea thy for them as did i” Tinch.
man growled. in his sullen way, referrin to
the late disastrous attempt on the d “’8
in. steam leale tw‘ met my

 
    
 

l

    

 

iconteuts of the vitriol-bottle.

finger into the pie. Had it burnt bad enough,

. a’read y l"

He held up the hand which had recelved the
It was not a
leasaiit hand to look upon, scarred as it was.
t would be slow in healing, and the chances
were that Tinchman would carry the marks of
it to his dying day.

The madame was not pleased with this re-
minder of her heedleSsness and recklessness.
But the scowl which flitted for a in'inent
across her face was quickly replaced by one of

her sunniest smiles.

“ Accidents will happen, Tinchman l” the
major apologized. “ You know the madame
didn’t mean that for you!”

“It hurt jist as bad as if she had!” with that
same black look. “ If she’d’a’ aimed it at me,
I think I should ’a’ knifed her!”

“ Our friend isn’t in an amiable mood to-dayl”
and the madame assayed to laugh.

“ What is it you want?"Tinchman demanded,
glaring at the little Jew as if he desired to eat
him. “ If me an’ Baumgard is a-goin’ into any
scheme together, I must know all about it fu’st.
“'hen it comes to divvyin' the Swag, you can’t

' trust him i”

This little thrust was due to a slight dispute
between the Jew and the cracksman, which had
rv‘antly threatened to sever their amicable re-
la‘ions.

“ We want to strike some hard blows at cer-
tain friends of this man Benton. We want to
hit them so hard that they will feel it—and he
will feel it. I have already given Baumguard a
hint of what I mean. He is inclined to be a lit-
tle weak-kneed, but you can stiffen him up,
Tinchman.”

This was said by the major, who now felt that
the time had come for him to put in an oar.

“Spit it out!” glowering as snllenly as be—
fore.

“You’ve been figuring on a burglary!" looks
ingat him fixedly. “Tl at raid on Langston’s.
you know! Why not vary the regular routine
a little? Why not make it seem that some one
else did the work?

“Now, my idea is this: we could rig up to
look very much like Tom cnderson; and, with
a little disguising, Baumgard could be made to
resemble the hunchback. What would you say
to going to Langston’s disguised in that way?
After you have made your haul, you could
show yourselves: and the old man would be sure
to take you for the parties you would re-
semblel”

Tinchman thought for a few moments, seawl-
ing at the floor and knitting his fingers together.

“ What is the object?” not taking his eyes
from the floor. .

“ The principal object is to give this detective
something else to think about. He’s crowding
us too close. If his friends get into a bobble,
naturally he would spend some time in trying to
get them out of it. Of course, old Langston
will have Henderson and Marsden pulled for the
burglary i”

There was an ulterior object which he did not
just then care to mention. He and the madame
were already arranging their affairs to secretly
leave the town. They hoped they might be able
to do this while Singer Sam was engaged in de-
fending his friends. It promised to give them
an excellent opportunity.

Tinchman’s dark eyes gleamed with vindic-
tiveness. He had no love for the detective.
He never had for men of that calling; and
Singer Sam had made himself particularly dis-
tasteful to the cracksman. If he could strike
him a blow by striking at these friends, he was
willing to do it. Then, too, nothing could please
him better than to bring trouble upon Tom
Henderson and Cecil Marsden. These two he
bated with a most unreasonable and bitter
hatred.

He glanced furtively at the Jam

Baumgard had not exhibited any great pleas-
ure at the prospect opened before him. He was
not a burglar by profession. He was only an
ally of burglars: shrewd, crafty and unscrupu-
lous. He had not the courage for such work as
Tinchman’s.

The crucksman thought he understood some.
thing of the Jew’s feeling. It would furnish a
revengeful sort of pleasure to be able to drag
the Jew into this scheme against his will.

SO, he turned to Dinsniore, tnd said, with

- quiet determination:

 

“ I think me an‘ Baum kin do it! Don’t you
think so, ole hooknosei”

Baumgarrl did not relish the appellation, but,
he was too d a man toexhibit is resentment.
Whenever he struck buck, the blow was apt to
descend in the dark.

aving gained the consent of the principal
actor, Dinsmore and Madame Muriel now entered
into a more thorough discussion of the plan they
had‘formed.

It was to he carried out that night, for they

uld not aflord to lose any time by delay.
achman was not read to make his raid upon
the hugston house, bu he was won over from
his reluctance; and the time was set for that;
night, at a late hour.

t was past midnight. when Tinchman, dis.
guissdtolookumucbaspouibloliko'l‘cm

’\

 
   

 

/

H “a! ‘n, 1”», . , :,, r adv-1

i- “Mr
V .

 “'3'1>tjll.l“ts.,“:' n ‘

20

"singéi Sam, the Pilgrim Detective. .

‘~._/’ "‘.‘.'_ in

 

 

Henderson. entered the grounds of the Langston
residence, and approached the rear area.

He was followed by the Jew, who hitched for-
ward in a crouching attitude. The Jew’s dis-
guise was almost as nearly perfect as it could be.
Being a small man, of about the same height as
Cecil Marsden, it had not been so difficult for
him to make the neceSsary changes in his appear-
ance. The peculiar hunch on the back had been
asin arranged. They wore no masks, as they

, .léld little fear of being detected, and their in-
lentions were not to permit their faces to be
Semi when the time came for them to reveal
themselves.

These details were of course subject to
change: and were changed in some minor par-
ticulars.

Tinchman’s preparations for the burglary had
been so complete and elaborate that not a hitch
occurred in the program. They gained access to
the house by way of the basement, mounting
from thence to the place where Langston kept
his valuables.

These were secured without delay—for the
cracksman knew just where to put his hands on
them!

“ Now, to give the old gent sech a skeer as’ll
turn his hair white!" he whispered to the Jew,
turning in the direction of Langston’s bedroom.
“I don’t ’low the old chap keeps any vallyhles in
his room, but we’ll let on that we think so.
Likely he’s got a gold ticker. \Ve can take that;
an’ you can ship it to yer brother in New
Yorruk.”

This was in imitation of Baumgard’s pronun-
ciation of the name of the great city.

The Jew had followed him meekly, Willing to
be guided by ’I‘iuchman’s superior exp erieuca.

The cracksmun found no trouble in fitting a
‘key to the lock of the bedrooni door. The key
was turned; and together they stool listening to
ascertain if the slight noise had aroused the
sleeper.

A heavy snoring attested to the fact that
Langston was possessed of a good stomach and a

quiet conscience.

The cracksinnu now twisted a handkerchief
over the lower part of the Jew’s face in a way
to serve as a mask; and, after having treated
himself in the same way, pushed the door softly
open and tip-coed into the room. ,

As he did so, he drew a bull’seye lantern from
beneath his cout——one he had already been
making use of—and turned its light full into the
face of the sleeping map.

Baumgard hovered near the doorway, where
he could he seen by Langston as soon as awake,
and where he would still be far enough to
render a too close look impossible.

The sleeping man put up a hand as if to ward
off a disturbing mos uito; but when the un-
pleasant rays continu to pour into his face, he
awoke with a start and a snort.

He was a fat, bulky man, with round, smooth
features; and the look of dismay which came to
him, as his eyes fell on the startling apparitions,
was comical in the extreme.

Tinchman snickered outright, in spite of his
best eflorts to contain himsslf.

The look of fear on the rich man‘s face grew
and intensified. A trembling and a paleness

‘ seized him; the latter being quickly superseded
by an a plectic hue.

4. "She 1 out your wealth!” was the cracksman’s
laconic command, when he wassure Langston
had been giVen ample chance to fix in his
memory their general appearance. “ Where is
yer dust? an’ yer ticker?’

He tried to ive to his tones a strong re-
semblance to enderson’s‘ and really made a

, vary fair stagger in that direction. One is not
inclined to be critical when frightened. and the
odds were rent that Langston would not notice
an small apnea in this direction.

ugston recoiled with an inarticulate cry, as
Tiuchman made this rough demand.
“ I have nothing i” appealineg putting up his
hands.
“Shell out, or 011’ goes the top 0’ yer head!
, Would you rather- keep your brains or your
dollars? Where’s yer money?"
“I have none here. There’s a dollar or two in
my p’ants pockets there. You’re welcome to
that. '
He did not know that the burglars had al-
refady secured the money which he deemed so
film
Tlnchman rifled the pockets, drawing out a
few small bills in addition to some loose change.

Then he picked up the man’s vest, and re-
lieved it of adhandmme old watch. This he
held in his han , as he bsc ed to.ward the door-

W‘ I
- "So long!”

With this farewell, he pushed the Jew into
the carridor locked the door and withdrew the
key from the lock, with a feeling am he had

_ worked the game very successfully.

And after events showed that in this he

was not mistaken.

CHAPTER XXVI.
massive son A sum.
Tn scheme had been well laid and well car-

   

vow

  

 

12:6 out: and its effects wererenot long in show-

As soon as the burglars had taken- themselves
from the premises, Langston, who had been
badly friglirened. got up from his couch, and
With trembling limbs, crossed the room.

He pressed the button of the electric bell so
frequently and vehemently that in an almost in-
credibly short space of time, the household and
the servants Were aroused. The latter found
him panting and puffing" in the solitude of his
apartment, from which he feared to emerge un«
til assured that there was no personal danger.

“ I have been robbed l” he howled, almost tum-
bling into a fit of apoplexy at the thought.
“ Robbed! And in my own house, and my
Own room! And I know who the thieves arel
They are that scoundrel Toni Henderson, and
the h‘ump-backed boy he always keeps with
him!

Then, in trembling and hasty sentences, he
commanded one of the servants to hurry into the
street and send a policeman.

Before the policeman arrived, he had visited
the spot where he kept his valuables, and found
them missing.

As he faced the guardian of the law, he was
in a perfect fury.

“ Sil'l I have been robbed! In my own
house! And yet we pay taxes to“ support you
lazy, good-for-nothing fellows; and you are
never about when you are needed. Isn’t it
your business, sir, to see that such things can-
not happen?

“ Now, I demand the immediate arrest of the
burglars. I saw them; and thev are wellknown
to me. They are Thomas Henderson and Cecil
Mu i'silen l”

The blue-coated ofiirer was struck with amaze-
ment. Heretot‘ore he had never heard a Whisper
against the character of these two.

” You are sure? There can he no mistake?” he
stnmmered.

Langston was a hot-headed old fellow, in-
clined to captiousness, and he did not relish
this. it seemed to cast a- doubt on his veracity,
or his powars of discernment.

“ How dare you. sir?” he sputtered.
dare you? Of course I’m not mistaken! I’m
old enough to know a thing when I see it with
my own eyes! You’ll arrest those two men im-
mediatelv l" .

b The officer was not disturbed by this out-
urst.

“ There’s no call for unseemly haste, Mr.
Langston! These men have hitherto home ex-
cellent reputations. I suppose you are willing
to go with me to Headquarters, and there swear
out a warrant?” ’

The red-faced Mr. Langston glared at him as
if lie wished he could annihilate him on the
s o .
p“ Do you doubt my word, siri Do you doubt
my word?"

hen, with a scornful glance: ~

“ Yes, sir, I will go with you! I suppose that
is what we pay you for, to have you drag honest
citizens over the town at this hour of the night.
Yes. sir, I will go with you; and, if I have any
influence in Mineral Gap, you’ll lose your
pine: ,on the police force before the end of the
wee

in this fiery mood. he stumped away behind
the olicemau; and as econ as the distance to the
station could be covered by them. he stood be-
fore the desk of the proper officer, ready to
swear to the warrants which he demanded should
be issued. ‘

He asked that they be served at once; and
at about the hour of three in the morning,
Tom Henderson and Cecil, and Singer Sam,
were aroused by the rap of a policeman’s club
on their door. \

Although Henderson had entered Major Dias-
more’s mrvlce, he still slept at home.

Henderson went to the door: and, even though
he was not yet dressed, was placed under arrest.
There were two officers outside. and they stated
courteoust but firmly the nature of their mis—
sion. and they asked for Cecil.

The detective got up and hastily donned
his clothing. Cccnl was sound asleep in an ad-
joining room, from which he came forth when
called. The announcement of the charge against
him, and the information that the officers
were at the door, threw him into a flutter of

terror. '

“ I think I understand the thing!” Singer Sam
averred,consolingly. “It's a put-up job, and
nothing can come of it. except ‘a little annoy-
ance. The best thing for you to do is to go
quietly to the pellce station. I can arrange to
have you released on bail."

This was done; and within less than an hour,
they had returned to the house. and, were on-
gaged in a serious discussion ' of this new
problem. , ;

Singer Sam 'was positive that the affair had
been instigated by Diusmore or the madame,
or both; then h he could not at that time
see throu h al of the underlying motives.
Neither dd he know who had committed the
burglary, though be naturally suspected Tinch-
man and the J aw.

He had some davs before come upon evidences
showing that the Jew was a member of the band
over which Dlnsmoré held swa . ,
. "I’ll ill! ywhat I thing,”

“ How -

  

they had talked for a long time, and after he
had given a good deal of thought to the. matter.
“ 'l‘inchman and the Jew did the work, which
was planned by the madame and the major. I
don’t know of any other man with whom
Tinchmnu is intimate, who could sacressfully as-
sume the role of our friend, Cecil. The Jew is a.
small, slight man, and might do it; and l’in sure
that he did i”

“NOW, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do.
Bauuigard has been acting as a ' fence’ for
thieves for a long time. His pawn-shop is only
a blind. It seems to me the chances Will be geod.
to find in that pawn-shop some witness of last
night’s burglary;—if we move soon enough! I
think they stow away their stolen goods there
temporarily; and, if I’m right in that, we ought
to find some of Langston’s things there. I think
We shall, if we work it right!”

So strong was his belief in the correctness of
this theory, that he began at once to plan to
carry it into effect.

CHAPTER XXVII.

BAFFLED.

“ BUY a bottle of my Magic Care?”

This was the request preferred by Singer Sam
as he entered the Jew’s place of usiness, that
night.

The detective, who was now proceeding to
carry out the plan he had formed, had an ob-
jcct, in addition to those stated to Henderson
and Cecil. His shrewd wit told him that the
madame and the major, new that they had
virtually defied him to do his worst, would soon
endeavor to leave the town. In moving against
the Jew, therefore, he was employing the same
tactics used by them. They meant to fully con-
sume his time by forcing him to look after the
interests of his friends. And now he purposed
to counter this by striking at theirs.

Baumgard looked frightenedly up, as the de-
tective’s Words reached him. ,

“ Have a bottle 0’ my medicine?” reaching out
the article. “ I hain’t been a-doin’ very well at
my night performances; and so if I manage to
pay my board bill. I’Ve got to hustle around an’
make some sales. Sung a whole hour down-
town, this evening, un’ didn’t sell enough truck
to pay me fer the guitar-string I broke. Bizness
is bad! VVuHs luck!”

The Jew shrewdly gue-sed that the medicine-
Vender had not entered the pawn-shop just for
the chm-cc of selling him ’one bottle of the
Magic Cure. He knew the man to be adetec-
tive.

“Ach, mine gootnessl” lifting up his hands.
“ If peesness vns rat mit you, vbat you s’bose it
vhas mit me? I but nod solt so much as t’e hrice
of dhose ttles. to-day! So hellup me, dhot ish
t’e troot! If I nod do potter ash dhot negxt
voek, I shall pull up vrom dhis here down! Dhot
ish t’e trOot’l”

"Jist a bottle!" the medicine man pleaded.
“ If I can sell only six more bottles, I can settle
with my landlady an’ my wash-lad . That last
creeter’ I’m act'slly ashamed to loo in the (see!
Hain’t been able to pay her izuta dollar sence
comin’ into this burg.
I had to put her (if, the last time; an’ it made
her weep. icol If she hadn’t had abusband an’
six childern to support I’d ’a‘niade her take
medicine. But a husband an’ six childern can't
live even on Magic Cure, substantial as it is.
Now, my dear sir, let me sell you a bottle! Only
one bottle! Think of that poor woman, an’let
the thought make you generous!”

The Jew was nervous and agitated, mentally
asking himself all the while what this man
wanted. ‘

“So hellup me. I couldn‘t do dhot!” be pro-
‘tested. “I should like to agcommodate you!
Dhot is t’e troot’l But you musd understant m
cirgumsdances. I he! not t’e money toenaps
me to do dhot! Dhot ish t’e troot’l"

With an air of sadness, Singer Sam put away
the bottle of medicine.

“ You’re a-missin’ a good chance i” he declared.
“ That Magic Care is wn’th jlst twic’t what I ask
fer it. You'll never hava another sich ,opportu-
nity~unless you come down to my meetings
some night! No; ou’ll never have anoticr sich
op rtnnity; for I m a-goin’ to offer you this at
ha f-pricel At half-price, 1’ mind you! You
Hebrews ginerally like to git things that way.
What do to say to er takin’ it at half-price?”

He brought out the bottle again, and held it
up alluringly. ‘ ‘

shoult like to a commodore yen, and dhot vo-
mans;1hut I cor ainl coult not do it!”

“ Very well, then !’ tucking the ,bottle awa
again. “ If you won’t buy of me, inebbe you i
lemme look at some 0’ the things you’ve got in
the shop. Some 0’ the things you‘ve got in that
trva They’re there to be looked at,ain’t they”

Tberw eeitated fora moment. nus icion ng
that 801116 trap was meant. Goods ta en from
various houses were concealed there though not
in that rt of the establishment. It occurred
to him hat no harm might come from exhibit-

perhaps advisable not to refuse to com 1y w!
so simple a request. -

 

. ..
he     my  of the  andu

. y‘afr‘wfiu h
I. -

t

It made me weep, when ,

“I coult not do it!” the Jew asserted. ' “I i

ing the contents of the tray; and that it was,

V. r.  ;. ‘ ‘3‘...“ ,3; 3:," Viki,» fl. )ré‘ya‘w U
.V .. M, . ‘ . ..

 

 

 

1‘ "Inc

 

       

   

 

 

{M- r > amiss—w:

 

 

 

 

   

a.

' Singer Se. , the Pilgrim Detective.

 

 

placed it in front of Singer Sam. It was an
ordinary tray, filled with rings and chains.

As Baumgard thrust forward the tra , also
thrusting his hands forward in sodoing, be de-
tective, with a quick movement, produced a
pair of handcuffs, which he slipped on the ex-
tended wrists.

It was done so quickly and deftly that the
Jew was taken completely by surprise. He was
a prisoner, and helpless, before he dreamed of
such a thing, or even of danger from that direc-
tion.

His face took on a sickly, yellow tinge; and
his hands trembled so violently that he let the
tray fall to the counter with a crash that made
its contents jingle.

“Ach, mine gootness!” be fairly shrieked,
looking helplessly at the medicine man. “ Vhy
you do dose tings, eh? You make a shoke of
me, eh 'f”

“Ruther a serious joke, ain‘t it?” and Singer
Sum could not help laughing lightly at the
J ew’s lugubriousness.

“ Don’t blay dhose shokes on me, bleasel” the
Jew pleaded, trying to squeeze out a tear.
“ Mine bruddvr diet of heart disease in Ny
Yorruk, and I vhas in t’e same fixi Take dhose
t’ings off. if you bleasei"

Singer Sam was looking closely at the trem—
bling wretch; and at this moment he observed a
strange shadow pass over the Jew’s face. '

He was about to turn to learn the cause, when
he heard a foott‘all behind him, and ‘then the
voice of Tobe Tinchman.

It was very low and very earnest:

" If you move, you’re a dead man 1”

Notwithstanding this stern injunction, Singer
Sam wheeled as if on a pivot and faced the
cracksman. Tinchman was threatening him
with a big revolver, and there was an ugly look
in his attitude.

“Take them things off’n Baumgard‘s Wrists,
or I'll send you to Kingdom Come in jist about a
second. I know who you air, even if you hadn’t
done that; an’ I won’t stan’ no foolin‘l”

Singer Sam lea at him, disregardin the
uplifted weapon. t was discharged at a most
the same moment, though the detective‘s quick
movements saved him from the effect of the
shot.

He struck Tinchman as he leaped forward
and the bullet crashed harmleesly into the ceil.

ing.

Stooping down to avoid another shot, Singer
Sam blew shrilly on his policeman’s whistle.
Then he dodged again, not knowing but that
Tinchman might send another bullet at him.

There was instantly a patter of racing feet in
response to the vibrating call of the whistle.

A number of police had been stationed about
the building before the detective entered it,
with the understanding that such a call meant
danger to him and that they were to come to his
aid without a moment’s delay.

The cracksman did not fire again. He heard
that ominous racing of feet, and concluded that
the beet thing he could do was to look after his
own safety.

As he scrambled up, after receiving that blow
from the detective’s list, he jumped for the
lamp, and in a twinkling had turned it out and
plunged the room into darkness.

Singer Sam had placed sucha cordon of police
around the building that he did not deem it pos-
sible for Tinchman and the Jew to get away.

He could not tell which way the fugitives had
flown, though he was sure they had not made a
dash for the front entrance. I

Through this the officers were already swarm-

, ing; and to have taken that route would have

nwaut capture for the criminals. r

The detective knew the position of the lamp,
and he reached this and had it lighted before
any of the police could produce their lanterns.

The flood of light thus thrown upon the reom
revealed nothing of the whereabouts of the pro-
prietor and his friend. The tray was on the
counter, just where Baumgard had dropped it;
and there was the ragged hole rent in the ceiling
by Tinch man‘s pistol-ball.

These were the only things, except the pres-
ence of the detectivo, to testify towhat had so
recently occurred. _

“ They’re gone!” said Sin
around'somewhathlankly. “
can’t get out of the house.” /

It was not often that his purpones were thus
frustrated. But in this instance he was com-
pelled to acknowledge a temporary defeat.

1 Without instructions, the police took up the
search, swarming over the premises like a lot of
cats hunting for possible mice. Into every DOOR
and cranny they poked; the detective leading
them and urging them to thoroughness.

The Jew and Tinchman had disappeared com.
pletely. '

There were buildings near, but it did not Seem
possible for them to have escaped from the
pawn-amp into any of these, This theory
seemed to be W851wa b the. statements of
those of the police force w 0 had remained on
the outside for the sole purpose of preventing
such a thing.

“ I’m heat!” and Singer
in a chair near the center of the pawn-shop and

r Sam, looking
ut I’m sure they

. glanced disconsolately at his assistants. ‘fflI 

l v

 

l
Sam set himself down

  

 

reckon those fellows could be hidden in the walls
or under the floor?”

An examination of the walls and floor were
accordingly made; but, like their previous
searches, it yielded no information.

 

CHAPTER XXVIII.
SEEKING SHELTER.

J WHAT had become of Tinchman and the
ewi

At the moment such strenuous efforts were be-
ing put forth to find them, they were safely en-
sconced on the roof of, a building only a few yards
from the pawn-shop. They could hear a great
deal of what was going ‘on, and could even see
some of the movements of their enemies.

As soon as Tinchman turned out the light, he
sprung for a rear stairway, which led from the
lower part of the pawn—shop to the story above.
He was accompanied in this flight by the ,terri-
fled Jew.

The perilous nature of the business carried on
by Baumgard made it almost certain that such
raids would occur, and previous preparations
had been made to lessen their perils.

A window opened from this upper room al-
most opposite the flat roof of an adjoining
building. The space between was partly filled
in by the bushy top of a shade tree. Baumgard
had a ladder, light and strong, constructed of
sufficient length to reach from this upper win-
dow to the roof. It could not have borne any
considerable weight, but for the fact that he had
nicely calculated to have the middle of the lad~
der rest on and be supported by one of the tree-
branches.

The window-sash was cautiously raised, and
together they looked breathlessly to the ground.
They could not see the officers stationed there
because of the gloom, but they could hear the
movements of those who were rushing into the
building by way of the front entrance.

Baumgard still were the detested handcufls,
tigers being no present means to relieve him of
t em. .

The ladder was lying near, ready for instant
use. Tinchman lifted it out, pushed it carefully
through the window, and succeeded in planting
an end of it on the tree~bough.

The overcast condition of the sky greatly aid-
cd them, for it kept the police from seeing what
was happening above.

Tinchman was strong of muscle, and it was not
a difficult matter for him to push the light lad-
der out to the branch. Then he slowly and in-
sidiously worked it across until the end rested on
the edge of the opposne roof.

When this had been accomplished, the. locked
down again to ascertain if they had yet 11 dis-
covered. They had not much time for delay,
for they could hear the baflled men tramping
about in the paWn-shop. and knew that the as-‘
cent of the stairway would be but the matter of
a few moments.

The Jew crawled out first upon the ladder and
crept like a cat across to the roof; what slight
lsounds he made being drowned by the uproar be
ow.

Tinchman followed, with even more care.
When he was across, he drew the ladder quiet-
lv toward him, sliding it back upon the roof with
all caution.

They had it safely stowed away behind a big
chimney, and were themselves crouching behind
this chimney, when some of the police ran up the
stairwa to the window. This had been lowered
by the ugitives. It was now hoisted; and the
police looked out on the blackness'of apparently
em'lpty space. '

inchman and the Jew hugged the roof as if
they ware glued to it, while these guardians of
the night stood at .the window and discussed in
low whispers the flight.

Nothing came of the survey of the police: and,
in a short time, the wmdow was lowered, and
they disappeared.

‘ Now, we’d better scoot l” Tinchman averred,
in one of his most Bug eative whispers. “ Some
0’ them chaps might t he a fool notion to come
a-pokin’ round up, hyer. Better slide while We
kin. an s I!" ,

He did not wait to see if the Jew coincided in
this view, but slipped away along the roof. 'He
had had ample experience in making similar
flights, and the ease With which he lirled owr
the smooth, flat surface would have one credit
to an eel. “

. The Jew was not such an adept in this method

of locomotion, but he imitated Tinchinan’s ex-

ample to the best of his ability; all the while

Eruénpllng and mumbling in low tones about his
or 0t. ‘

From this roof they crinsed to another, which
Wt? joined on to it: and from this to still an-
0 er.

There was a fire-escape at this point, which
Tinchman poi-posed to descend; but before es-
saying this be halted to take a survey of the
street below. It was abyszreet, not illuminated
by the electric glare, a thing on which he had
Counted to aid him. \

Only occasionally did any can have reason for
there

ammo. . . track
,,

in .i flni


v

  

passing u or dawn this streetztgu‘t  at that; »

 

were two men standing only a few feet from the
foot of the firecscnpe, engaged in conversation.

Peering down from the high roof, he cursed
this ill luck, with a bitterness that seemed to be
intensified by the fact that he could not give it
louder utterance.

“Ach! Achl”groaned the Jew, locking his
handcuffed wrists about his knees and swaying
his body disconsolately backward and forward. .
“ Dhis ish awvull If dhose mans gatches us, it 1
vill pe t’e insite of a chail ve vill see!” V

“ Oh, shut up!” Tinchman growled, giving
the swaying body a gentle dig with one of his
heels. “ Baum, you make me tired. You
hain’t in any more danger than I am. So,
shut up! We’ll get out 0’ this all right, yit!”

This was not uttered in a tone loud enough
to be heard a dozen feet, forcible as it was.

“ But dhose estaplishmentsl” the Jew whined.
“I am a mint mans. All dhose t’ings vill be
goppled by dhose holicel”

“Lucky they didn’t gobble you! Think of
that, will you. and stop your whining. They
got the irons on you, but they hain’t got you.
An’ I hain’t a flgurin’ that they will!”

He was thinking, at the same time of whether
or not it would be safe to make a dash down
the fire escape, if the police should follow and
come upon them from the rear. They could
do that, or make a race of it over the roofs.
He decided in favor of the fire-escape, and
again looked down at the two men.

These were shaking hands, as if they meant
to separate. Enough light came into the nar-
row street from the glare of the electrics on
the broader thoroughfares to show this.

In another minute the men had disappeared,
going in opposite directions; and Tinchman
whispered to the Jew that the time for decisive
action had again arrived.

He then swung himself over the edge of the
roof and began the descent.

Baumgard shivered as if struck with a chill,
ashe looked down into the dizzy depths. He
felt a sick, reeling sensation; and clutched at the
rim to keep himwa from falling.

“ Ach! Mine Gott!” he gasped, clinging with
desperate energy, and looking across the roof to
drive away that dangerous, giddy feeling.
“ Dhis ish awvull”

Nevertheless, it seemed he must go forward.
There was no other way by which he might
more conveniently get down, without a return
to the pawn-shop; and that he could not think of
doin .

Hg whole frame shock, as he slipped downy ,
to the fire-esca ; and only by the most desper- ‘
ate effort was e able to retain his grasp. ‘

He descended, however, very slowly, his
courage reviving as he came nearer and nearer
to the ground.

Tinchman was waiting for him, with every
manifestation of impatience.

“ If there had been a fire in that house, you'd

. V

- ’a‘ been a goneri” he growled into the Jew’s ear,

as the latter reached his side. “Snails hain’t
anywhere to on, the way you it along. Well
good thing em police hain’t ot on ourheals.

f they had ’a’ been, I’d ’a’ slid out, an’ jist let
’em gobble you!"

W ile waiting for the Jew to reach the
ground, he had been narrowly watching the
point where the little street opened into the
arger one; and had his mind firmly made up to
make a run for it, and abandon his companion
should a policeman show threatenineg near.

From the little street they darted into an al-
ley, keepin all the while in the blackest shad.
ows. In t is way they hurried on, until they
gainzd the rear of MadameMuriel’s establish-
men ,

Tinchman was a very dog, and made a careful .
survey of the surroundings before approaching
the door. He did not know but what the police
had stationed a cordon about this house, as they

. had about the pawn-shop. It was his belief that

if no police were there now, it would not belong
until their coming. , ’

He saw nothing, h0wev0r, to alarm him; and
surreptiously drew near the door. On its panels
he gave a peculiar rap; and in a short, time both
he and the Jew were admitted. ‘ _

The madame understood the significance of
that rap, and had hastened down to let them in.
She looked at them nervously, as they stood for
a moment in the hallway. ‘

“ No time to talk, now l” Tinchman ejaculat—
ed. “ The police are hot after us. See them
bracelets Banm’s a-wearin’? we had anerrer ' ~
squeeze for it.” ,

He had already turned toward the stairway,
up which he now hurried, closely followed by
the madame and the Jew. I

It took but a few moments, after they had
reached her rooms, to make the madame under-
stand just what had happened.

She was gale, and trembling almost as violent-
ly as was aumgard. . i

“ You did just rightto come here 1” she assert- o
ed. “ I have no doubt those hounds will be howl-.1 a
ing around the house in a little while; but I can - \
stew you where they'll never find you, smart“ l
the may think themselves l” ; 7
he glanced at the Jew’s manacles. - , v
“- You'll have to stand them awhile, Bunn- ~
and. .We can’t take them off, howl?! ( _ v

 

 

 

 

 

     

  

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22

   

Then she drew some curtains aside, and led
the way to the place where she intended to
secrete them.

Singer Sam had not succeeded in arresting
the pawnbroker; but he had accomplished his
chief desire. He had given the madame and the
major something to temporarily distract their
thoughts from an immediate flight.

 

CHAPTER XXIX.
onrwrr'mn.

“ I THINK matters air comin’ to a focus!”

Tom Henderson, seated comfortably in a big
chair by the stove in Madame Muriel’s kitchen,
kicked up earnestly at Laura Dutton, as he said
t is.

Metaphorically speaking, Henderson had been
making hay while the sun shone. There could
be no doubt that he had advanced himself con-
siderably in the estimation of this young woman.
Even he, bashful and timid as he was inclined to
be, felt it; and was greatly encouraged thereby.
He believed that Laura Dutton was beginning
to look on him kindly—more than kindly—and
this belief brought satisfaction and contentment.

“ I’ve been talkin’ with Singer Sam about it,”
again referring to the same subject, " and that’s
the way I size it up from what he said. The
madame and the major won’t be able to fly high
very much longerl”

There was in the tones a hope that this might
be true. He had no cause to love the madame
and the major, especially since he and Cecil had
suffered arrest.

Their trial had been fixed for a number of
days in advance, and they were out now on bail,
Roscommon having become their hondman.
He had little fear that they would experience
much difficulty in securing their final release;
but the fact that they had been accmsed of such
a deed bya man of Langston’s standing. out
Henderson to the quick.

Miss Dutton was doing up the evening’s work,
and she made the dishes clatter, as she replied:

“I hope it’s so; and I have been thinking the
same thing.”

“ Great minds run in the same channel!"
grinning and nodding his head approvingly.

" Small minds, too, for that matter! But
they can’t fall any too quick for me. They
have been flying high, as you put it, fora long
time!”

“ An’ when they do, what do you expect to
turn your hands to?” insinuating y.

Laura colored, but managed to
fact remarkably well. i

"Oh, me? I can find same place, without
much trouble. If nothing better offers, Ican
return to Mrs. Blair’s.”

“ You Wouldn’t like to set up housekeeping for
yourself, now, I reckon? For yourself and an-
other—say two others?"

The color in Laura’s cheeks deepened.

“ There you’re beginning your nonsense
a sin!”

“ ’Twouldn’t be a very big family !” Tom con-
tinued, hiding his heated face behind the stove,
from which position he \eeped out at her. “ Not
asbiga family as you ve got to do for here.
You an’ me, and Cecil. I’m the only hefty eater
of the lot. Cecil don’t eat enough to keep a. cat
alivs. ’Twouldn’t require muCh cookin’, an’ not
much work l” .

“ You mustn’t bother me, Tom, with such
fOOlish questions;—when you see I‘m busy!”

“Another time, oh?" thrusting his knees up
against his chin, and smiling in a very knowing
way. “That’s all right, Laura! I’m not in a
hurry! Any time’ll suit me—so it‘ hain’t for-
ever. I hain’t got any too much of this world’s
goods set b fer sich an event, anyway. Yes;
next week’l dol—er next month!”

Laura trembled slightly as she put away the
dishes: and skillfully diverted the current of
talk. She liked Tom Henderson, better than
any other man she had ever known: but she
had a‘feeling that he was a little premature, and
that it would be well to hold him somewhat in
check. If he evar became her husband—and she
had not set led as to that-the lesson taught him
would be sa utary. .

Henderson fell readin into the new train of
thought; and, thus conversing with Miss Dut-
ton, passed one of the pleasantest hours of his
life. Such fascination had that kitchen for
him that he could scarwa drag himself away,
when the time came for h s departure.

He had not been onea half-hour, when Laura
was startled by obe Tinchman’s peculiar
knock. Something told her that there was a
meaning to this; and she held the door slightly
ajar and peered u out at the madame, when
the latter came down to admit the cracksman
and the Jew. She heard what Tinchman said;
and it threw her into n flutter.

In his talk concerning the madame and the
major, Henderson had mentioned the fact that
Singer Sam was preparing for some kind of a
raid against the conductor of the pawn-shop.
She understood now that he had failed in his
glans, and that these men were fleeing from

im.

She draw back with great circumspectness,
scarcely moving until the madame and her visi-
tors had disappeared. Then she threw a shawl

conceal the

 

sage. Sam, the Pilgrim "names... 

about bel' head and hurried quietly into the'

street.

She had no very well defined ideas as to what
she ought to do, but she was determined that
Singer Sam should know of the whereabouts of
the fugitives. She thought it might be possible
to hire a boy to carry the information to Hen-
derson, who could communicate it to the detec-
tive.

Instead of a boy, the first person she saw was
Jim Bass. She almost stumbled against him, as
she hastened around a corner.

“Well, dad-gast me! I’d as soon thought of
seein’ my step-mother’s ghost!”

The cowboy was on his way to Madame
Muriel’s kitchen for a talk with Laura. His
duties had kept him away‘ from the town for
some days, and now, having returned, this was
his first objective int.

She motioned im into the shadow of the
building, and in breathless sentences acquainted
him with her discovery.

“ Well, dad—grist me!” drawing in his breath
with a snort of surprise. “ If you say the word
I’ll go up there and arrest both of them.
’Twould do me good to massacree the hull outfit!
Any of ’em been abusin’ of you lately?”

“ I don’t want you to slaughter them just
yet!” laughing at Bass’s pomposity. “ The time
hasn’t come for that. After a while, you can
turn loose on them i”

“Glad fer the priverligel” with an ostentac
tious bow.

“Jtlst now I want you to carry a message to
Tom Henderson. He is at home, and I want you
to go there and tell him what 1 have told you i”

The cowboy drew himself up frigidly.

“I’ll be hanged if I do! I’m afeared if I went
near that feller, I’d be tempted to shont him.
Say, he’s been a—shinin’ around you, hain’t he?
That’s the fu’st thing I been] when I struck the
tOWn. Now, I hain’t a-goin’ to ’low any 0’ that!
I’miygur lawful guardeen, an’ don’t you fer-
git t!

The laugh with which she greeted this was
not leasant to the cowboy’s ears.

“ hink I’m a-funnin’, do you? There’s where
you’re awav ofl. So help me, if I don’t shoot
that Tom Henderson on sight, if he don’t leave
you alone! You hear me!’

“He is working here at the house,” she ex-
plained. “ Of course I can’t help speaking to
him, can I? You wouldn’t want me to go around
with my lips glued together, would you?”

“New take this message, and make haste.
The madame may come into the kitchen and find
me gone, and then there will be trouble. Tell
Henderson just what I have told you; and have
him carry the information at once to Singer
Saml”

Jim Bass felt that he could not refuse to obey;
but he was grumbling deeply when he turned on
up the street.

He delivered his message, emphasizing and
punctuating it with a series of growling com-
ments. He had modified his tones, however,
and made no direct threats. thougli his words
Were full of hints and innuendoes.

Henderson realized the necessity of haste, and
darted away at the top of his speed in search of
the detective. He found him at the pawn-shop,
from whose front entrance he had 'ust come,
the unsuccessful search having been a ndoned.

The detective’s whistle smote the air as soon
as Henderson had explained the nature of his
errand; and the baffled policemen were in a few
moments congregated again about the detective.

An advance on Madame Mnriel’s establish-
ment was instantly commenced. On arriving
there, the men were stationed at various points
to watch the building, and Singer Sam, with
some others, boldly approached the front door.

A vigorous rapping of a policeman’s club
brought down the madame.

“ Some men were seen to enter this place,”
mid Singer Sam. facing her firmly. “ They
were Tobe Tinchman, and Baumgard, the Jew
pawnbroker. We have come for them.”

The madame was an adept in the arts of diplo-

mac .

“ They were here," she confessed, glancing at
the officers in her sweetest fashion. ‘ But they
are not here now. They only remained a few
minutes. If you had come ten minutes ago, you
could have found them‘ without trouble. They
are charged with something, I presume? I’m
sorry that you came so late!”

“They are in this house,” the detective de-
clared. “We know that! They were seen to
enter it, and we have positive information that
they did not come out.”

“ Your information is incorrect, then. I’m per-
fectly willing that you should search the house.
You will find it just as I say. The men are not
here.” '

On the face of it, nothing could be fairer:
though, as they ascended the stairway. Singer
Sam had an uncomfortable feeling that, while
the birds had not flown, they had been safely
hidden.

He remembered his own experience. He had
thought of it frequently, and tried to determine
how he had been remoVed from there when
drugged and clubbed. The most plausible theory
seemed to be that there was an elevator by which
be was let down into the cellar or some under-

«riff.
.

    

gund apartment, from which point he had
n spirited to the mining-shaft.

He in ant now to look for this elevator, and
for the nderground room.

The madame was all smiles and condescension:
and when the officers were grouped in her den,
she assured them that the house and all in it
was at their disposal.

“ Search where you please, just so you don’t
soil my carpet!” and she indicated the rooms
that were Visible.

The officers immediately entered on their
task, scattering over the building for the pur-
pOse of making the work as thorough as pos-
sible.

Singer Sam gave his time to a hunt for the
elevator. He remembered the direction in
which he had been dragged. or thought he re-
membered it. But look as he might, he could
find neither the elevator nor the room to which
he believed he had been taken. The multiplicity
of hangings did not confuse him. He saw what
rooms there were to be seen, but there was no
elevator in any of them.

Somewhat bewildered by this failure, be de-
scended to the kitchen and sought for the under-
ground apartment. It was there; a cellar-like
place, which opened on the street by way of a
coal-hole, and also opened into the rear yard.
But there was nothing suspicious about this
basement. Certainjy, the men they were seek-
ing Were not i:: it.

The policemen had no better luck. They
looked the house over, but could find no traces
of the fugitives.

CHAPTER XXX.

PLAYING A BOLD GAME.

THE next morning Madame Muriel presented
herself at the Jew’s pawn-shop. .

Since Baumgard’s flight, an oflicer had been
put in charge of the house, the front door of
which was now closed.

“ Are you in charge of this place!” the ma-
dame questioned, presenting- herself before the
officer. .

He had been lounging in the back yard, and
was thoughtfully smoking a stubby pipe, when
thus accosted. Although he knew the madame,
and was familiar with her reputation. he was
not proof against the smile she gave him.

He scrambled confusedly to his feet, polite]
doifed his helmeted hat, and replied in the a -
flrinative.

“I have come down to relieve you of your
possessions,” smiling again, and at the same
time reducing a piece of paper from her hand
sache. “If you’ll be kind enough to look at
that, you will see my authority.”

The oficer saw that she had given him a sale
bill for all the goods in the house. It was duly
signed by Israel Baumgard, and bore a date of
nearly a month previous.

“There was an attempt made to arrest the
pawnbroker last night,” she said, “ but I under-
stand he got away. I think he was charged
with some thieving. The officers foolish] got
the notion into their heads that he mig t be
hiding at my house, and they came there and
made a search. He had been there only a short
time before, with a companion, but both were
gone when the police came. V

“The fact that he is charged with thieving
will not prejudice my rights, will it?”

The poli man was not a lawyer, and so could
not settle this point for her.

“ 1 don’t think it will, 'though,” looking
thoughtfully at the paper. “ If you bought
these things that long ago, and there was no
lien or mortgage on them at the time, it seems
to me they are yourS.”

“ Why, of course, they’re mine! If you had
purchased them. new, 'ust as I did. wouldn’t
they be yours. Would t e fact that Bauingard
hasa charge against him out any figure in the
matter?"

The sale bill was very minute and descriptive,
enumerating nearly everything in the pawn-
shop. and lumping such small articles as could

not well be otherWise incorporated.
“ Yoa will at least let me look at m proper-
ty?” witchingly, glancing toward 9 closed

door.

The officer was still puzzling over the sale
bill, not knowing how he ought to meet the wo-
man’s claim. He got up or". opened the deor,
according to her wish, and showed her through
the lace.

“ here is only one thing,” he asserted, as they
wandered about, examining the wn-shop’s con-
tents. “I have heard it hin that there are
stolen goods in here. Your sale bill would not
cover those. You’ll see that, quite readily !”

“ Oh, certainly. I have no desire to take
anything that does not rightfully belon, to me.
If Banmgard has made over stolen g s to me
in payment of the debt he owed me, I suppose
the loss will be mine.

“ But I feel sure most of
stolen I”

On that point the officer was not posted. All

these goods were not

be in there.
“There will have to be some legal formali-

 

  

ties complied with,” the officer observed. “ You

\

he knew was that some stolen goods were said to I

 

 

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3

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i “You know very well why I don’t. You

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’ and you can have t e goods.

siege   Pilgrim Detective. '

 

 

understand that I have no right to do anything. ;
[have been placed in charge of these goods, {
without authority to do anything except to look i
after them, and see that they are not carried |
away. Until I have orders from my superiors, |
I could not turn them over to you.” 

It seemed to hurt the bluecoated gentleman to l

have to speak thus harshly to the elegantlyl
n dressed woman. He was inclined .to be gallant :
i to all of the sex, especially to the pretty ones, or "
those who made a show of wealth. The inad-
ume was neither handsome nor homely, but to
judge from her attire one would have set her
down as immensely wealthy.

He called to a brother officer across the street,
and, after some conversation with him, and 3
some hesitation, left him in charge of the place,
dofi‘ed his hat again to the madame, and hur-
ried away.

It had occurred to him that he might lose
his official head by dallyiug with this sweet-
Vuiced temptreSS. So he transferred her, for a
time, to his brother officer, and went in search
of Singer Sam.

flHe found that gentleman at Roscommon’s
() ice.

“ I will go down with you." the detective de-
clared, climbing from the office sto nl on which
he had been perched, and aCCOinpunying the
policeman.

The madame was not pleased to see him, as
was plainly evident by the sudden chill which
fell upon her and checked the flow of her spirits.

“ If you’ll tell us where the Jew is, perhaps
we Can do something for you,” he said, after
beckoning her aside where he could speak to her
without being overheard.

“As if I knew where the greasy thing had
gone to!” tossing her head disdainfully.

“i don’t see how we can let you have the
property on that bill of sale!” was his firm dec-
laration. “ There is no need for metomince
matters with you, Madame Muriel. In the first
place, I don’t think that sale bill has been writ-
ten twenty-four hours. You have seen Baum-
gard since we were at your house last night.
Either that, or the sale bi! is a forgery!"

The madame’s cheeks mantled with indigna-
tion.

“ It won’t do you any good to get angry, my
dear madame. If ou were served as ou de-
serve, you would behind prison walIs nowl
Both on and the major !"

“ hy don’t you put us there, then?”

know that I have enough evidence to cause your
arrest and secure your conviction. You know
that, and yet you will speak to me in this way!

“Why .don’t I arrest you? To do so now
would be to defeat the Very purpose that
brought me here. I’m after that Quindaro
estate. i’m not caring about these petty bur-
glaries. I am looking for bigger game. I ex-
pect to corner you yet in such a way that you
will be willing to pay that twenty thousand, if
it takes every cent you have. You can’t get out
of the town! If you try it, then you will be
arrested I ” \'

“What about these goods?" turning coldly ,
from him, unwilling to hear more. "

She had her own ideas on this subject ofi
escape: and believed she could safely take the '
chances.

“ There’s only one way by which you can get
them. The goods are worth quite a lot of
money. Just how much, I dont know. You
could get them through a repleviu suit by
establishing your right to them, or the officers
could turn them over to you on their own re-
sponsibility. But you may be sure they can’t
afford to do that unless they are made abso-
lutely safe. Is there any one in this town who
will become your surety for so large an
amount?”

“ Yes, there is!” biting of! the words very
curtly. . ,

The detective still wore his old disguise, and
he n0w ran his fingers through his thin heard in
the old, familiar way.

“ Who, pray!” looking steadily at her.

“John Langston!”

Singer Sam started. Lan ton was the rich
merchant who had so late y been robbed, and
who had brought about the arrest of Henderson
and Marsden for the crime.

The detective had heard hints against the
merchant’s character, but it was his first inti-
mation that Langston had fallen a prey to are
wiles of this woman.

“ Very well! Get Langston to go your bond—
the amount will be fixed by t’be proper parties—

k further
or negotia-

He turned away, not desiring 1:08
with her; and left her to continue
tions with the authorities,

" It almost flatt ned me out,” said the deth
tiVe, speaking to osoommou, after his return
tflo the office h d I l h

es rich enoug ; an an pose is foo enoug
to grant her her request. p

“ And that explains another thing: The
chances are big that Tincbman—who I am
satisfied led in the raid upon his house—has been
there frequently, at the instance of the madame.
and so had ample opportunity to learn where
the old man kept his treasures. ,

 

I .

     

“I hadn’t thought of Langston. .

“ Let her have her way; and give her rope
enough With which to hang herself! That’s
what she’ll do by and by!"

CHAPTER XXXI.
THE DEED OF A FIEND.

THESE excitmg events did not prevent Singer
Sam from :oldihg his nightly concei ts as the
medicine-yonder. There was really no need
that he should longer do this; but the habit had ‘
grown on hini;and the enjoyment he was able
to get out of it more than compensated for the
trouble, and served to distract his mind from
graver things and to lessen the tension under ,
which he was vorkiug. It did him good to,
watch the delight with which his songs and i
jokes were greeted. The outbursts of applause ':
oVer trifles were extremely amusing. it was I
so easy to please theSe outdoor audiences. They
cametolaugh; and he laughed with them;en-
joying it all quite as much as they did.

Cecil Mai-aden’s tasks were not usually
onerous; but on this night he was detained at
the office beyond the customary hour. 

Very frequently, in going home, if he was at i
all late, he went by the corner where Singer
Sam Was accustomed to take his nightly stand-—
a hall had not been rented, in accordance with
the intention announced to the madamel—and z
from thence he would go home with the singer,
or with Henderson, or Jim Bass,—though the
latter was not always in town.

The torch was flaring in a stiff wind, and
the medicine-vender was in the midst of one of
his lectures, when Cecil arrived at the corner on
this night.

Neither Henderson nor Bass was there; and he
seated himself on a. curbstone, and for a time
listened to the medicine man’s quaint talk and
funny songs.

Then Bass came along; and, as the boy was
tired, having had rather a hard day of it, he
went on home in Bass’s company.

When they reached the house, they went !
around to the rear ‘door, for the key CeCil had 2
would not fit the front lock. They crowded .,
into the dark kitchen and Cecil lighted the:
lamp. And then Bass, being hungry—he was.
always hungry l—began to devour the cold rem- !
nants of the evening meal.

While the cowboy was thus engaged, Cecil
lighted another lamp and went into one of the
front rooms.

A cry of horror from his lips caused Bass to
dropa piece of meat on the floor, and hurry,
with his mouth filled with a generous slice of
bread. into that room.

He saw Cecil standing in the middle of the
room as if transfiXed.

The youth could scarcely enunciate, but stood
with one hand pointed toward the door and to
some objects on the floor in front of it. He
was pale and trembling, and the lamp seemed
about to topple from his grasp.

Bass looked in the direction indicated, and
drew back with his usual exclemation.

What they saw was enough to startle any one.
Poised on a box was a gun, which was pointed
directly at the door. The hammer was set and
the gun was ready for firing. From the trigger
there stretched a piece of wire which passed 1
around one end of a box and over a pulley and ‘
was attached to the door-knob. In short, it was ,
aspring-gun, so set and arranged as to dis-
charge; its contents whenever the door was
open .

Singer Sam and Henderson carried keys to the
front door. The intention doubtless was to
bring about the death of one or both of these :

 

 

 

men.

“ Well, dad-goat me!" again finding his tongue. i
after a moment of mute astonishment. “ The =
boss-thief that put that thing there ought to be
held u in front of it and made to pull the trig-
ger, ’ve seen meanness in my time, but that _
lays it over ever thing!”

Cecil had sun down white, and so suffering i
from nervous shock that he was almost unable
to speak.

Bass made 'a cautious advance on the gun,
eying it as if he feared it might whirl upon him
and contribute its contents to the other indigest- ‘
ible matter with which he had been crowding
his stomach. But the gun remained in place,
and he reached over and carefully lowered the ,
hammer. Then he drew away the wire, re»
moved the cap, and set the weapon in one
corner.

“Dad-gast ye! Stay there tell yer owner
comes for ye!”

“ Which will not be in a hurry,” said Cecil,
ri=lng and forcin himself to say mmething.
“The owner of t at gun will never come for
it. Oh, Jim! Wouldn’t it have been terrible?"

He did not finish the thought, but placed his ‘
hands to his face as if to shut out some horrible
suggestion. ‘-,

"I‘would have been tough l” Was the cowboy’s
comment. “But they hain’t no use in gittin’
skeered, now. That load of shot is still in the
sun’s innards, and is likely to stay therefor some
time. Don’t no fer ter gittin’ skeered now! The
time to git skeered, if you have to, is when the
battle is a-ragm’l”

There was an intimatiOn in this that he never
got “steered.” . ’

i

 

  

  

Cecil was so wrought upon by the discovery,
and by the thoughts of what might have oc-
curred, that he could not rest, but nervously
paced the floor until the coming of Henderson
and the medicine man.

The c0wboy returned to the kitchen and to

‘ his belated supper, anxious to show that such

small matters could not interfere with his ap-
petite. He was still nibbling away when the
footsteps of their friends were heard.

Cecil sprung up with a little cry, and icoked
at the gun standing in the corner, to reassure
himself that it could not now possibly harm
any one. Then the door was opened, and Hen-
derson and the detective came in.

Jim Bass hustled forward, and with great
volubility and many exclamatcry phrases, told
the story of their discovery. CeCil said nothing,
but his eyes were filled with tears and he was
almost weeping.

Both Henderson and the detective looked seri-
ous. It had been a dastardly attempt at mur-
der, and only an accident had prevented it from
being a success. If the first comer to the house
had entered by the front door there seemed little
doubt that he would have been slain.

Singer Sam took the gun from the corner and
minutely leoked it over. It was an ordinary,
single-barreled, muzzle-loading shot-gun. There
was nothing to distinguish it from an one of a
hundred others of the same pattern. t had evi-
dently seen some use, and was rusty, as if it had
for a long time been neglected. These were its
only peculiarities.

There was a screw on the ramrod, and with
this the detective drew out theload. 1t consist-
ed of swanvshot, backed by a heavy charge of
powder. It was plain that if it had been dis—
charged as planned, the load would have gone
through the door as easily as if the latter were
only so much paper.

“ I have a theory,” and the detective, holding
the rusty weapon in his hands, locked thought-
fully at the friends gathered about him. “It
may or may not be true, but I shall think I am
right until I have proof to the contiary. This
gun came from Baumgard’s pawnshop: and it
was arranged in front of the door by that black
fiend, J ingo. I’ll warrant it hasn’t been out of
the shop twelve hours. I wish I had made an
inventory of what the shop contained when I
was there to-day. Madame Muriel bad all the
things carted to her house; and ”-—sqninting at
the weapon—“ this gun was among them i”

He remnined in thoughtful silence for a few
moments, then spoke again:

“ There’s one thing that puzzles me! There
could be no certainty that I would be the first to
return to the house—and we take it for granted,
of course, that this gun was ut there for me.
Why should any man, even ingo, run sucha
risk of shooting the wrong person i”

This was something no one seemed able to an-

swer.
“Mebbe he meant that fer me!” said Bass,
looking around at the little company as if hoping
they might think the same. “Say, you don’t
any of you think he meant that for me?" x

“ If you had opened that door, you would have
got it, whether it was meant for you or not!”

“ If you say the word,” and Bass swelled with
indignation. “ l’l' go up there an‘ pulverize that
gifger, yit! A-settin’ a spring-gun fer me!

by. I umm- done a thing to the black scoun
drel in my life!”

“ If you can find him, you’ll do better island I
think,” was the dctective’s dry ornament. “ It’s
something I have never been able to do. It
seems impissihle to find any one when they‘re

1 hidden in that house!"

Tom Henderson not up and tapped the detec-
tive on the shoulder.

“I’d like to See you for a minute!
Cecil, in do kitchen!”

Singer Sam wonderineg arose and followed

You and

. him, chil doing the same. When they were
within the kitchen, Henderson closed the door,

after them. \

This was a movement not at all pleasing to
Jim Bass.

“Well, dad-gust me!” he. muttered. “Stab-
bed, as you may say, in the house 0’ my friends.
Them fellers is a-goin'to talk about me! ' I
reckon, now, they don’t think I set up that in-
fI-rnal machine! They’re a-goin’ to talk about
me. or else about the nigger. Both beautiful
subjects! But if they think I bain’t a-goin' tor
hear what they Bay, they’re left!”

He got up and tip-teed softly to the kitchen
dOor, placing an ear against it to better enable
him to hear.

To his disgust, he found that the three had
drawn to the further side of the kitchen, and
were conversing in low whispers,1 He could
catch a word now and then, but on y enough to

,bewilder him.

" Dad-cast the luck! Is that the way to treat
a gentleman o’ my standin’? If they accuse me
of settin’ the spring-gun, like] they’ll accuse
me o’ tryin’ to blow up the muse that time,
and say that I pitched that blastin’-powder
down there myself.” ‘

But he was quickly made aware that they
~iVere not talking about‘him.
seemed to be in progress—either that or some» ., _ ,
thing equally mysterious. Bass heard Jingo’s ) r

A revelation

   
    

\

m

'.’.'-.

‘ .

  

I

s

' ' bropertyl Vhat vill

He inn ‘3 '. 1' 7’ mm. s ,
. 3  I  ‘i , w‘: l.

’ Singer Sam,

 u  v ; y

the Pilgrim Detective.

h  wing”,  .2,  “if. “‘9. i

 

 

name mentioned once, and thought it must re—

fer to the negro. But on this point he could not
be at all sure. The scraps of sentences which he
caught were so disconnected that he was not
able to piece them together into a satisfactory
whole.

“I could not have done better myself,” he
heard Singer Sam say. “It is really wonder.
in]. I su pose you have proofs to substantiate
all this? Kit is really wonderful! Wonderful!”

Bass unrie:stood Henderson to declare that
these proofs, whatever they were, would be
forthcoming at the proper time.

The talk lasted for some minutes longer,
when there was a movement toward the door.

Bass slipped back to his chair, and was sit-
ting in it very unconcernedly, and looking at
the on, when they came in.

“ ou Will excuse us for having gone out
there a few moments?” said the detective.
"There was an important communication, of
a very private character, which Henderson
wished to make. There is a good deal of sly-
ness and slipperiness in my profession, you
know; and sometimes things have to be done
that may seem a little rude!”

Bass seemed wholly absorbed in his examina-
tion of the weapon.

“ I’ve jist been a-thinkin’ that if you’ll let me

' take this byer thing, I’ll go up to the madauie’s
and shoot the nigger with it. It would be treat-
in’ him gist right to lay him out with his own
weapon! ’

He got up as if about to leave the house with
the gun for this laudable purpose, but Singer
Sam stopped him.

“ Your revolver will do, Bass. I’ve an idea I
may want that gun for another purpose. Prob-
abliy as a piece of evidence. Use your revolver;
an , when he’s a cold corpus, send for me. I’d
like to see him!”

Bass had no thought of seeking the negro, but
he did want to see Laura Button; and accord-
ingly, when he left H nderson’s, be bent his
steps toward Madame uriel’s.

CHAPTER XXXII.
“ran nonoa or THIEV'ESI”

Ton: TINCEMAN and Israel Baumgardwero
seated in one of Madame Muriel’s rooms. It
was a room which Singer Sam and his police
associates had looked all through, and therefore
of\ course not the room where the scamps had
- been hidden at the time of the search.

Both of them were in an ill humor, and their
talk was principally grumbling outbursts against
their lot.

Tinchman was looking white and sick. He
Could not stand indoor life, having been so long
accustomed to active exertions;

His hand, too, which had received the vitriol,
was paining him. He had hurt it in climbing
fii'om the roof during his flight from the pawn-
I

umgard was all right, physically, but far
from it otherwise.

. He was fearful of final discovery, and the‘

financial losses he would be forced to sustain
weighed heavily on him.
“ here hain’t no use in talkin’l” Tinchman
wlad, apparently addressing the ca t which
" e was scuffing up with his feet. “ hain’t a-
in’ to stay byer no longer than I have to.
um, what’s the reason we can’t dig out to-
night? What’s to hinder? The madame says
‘ no; but the madame hain’t a-hossin’ usl—not by
a jugfull”
“ Bud mine peesness!” the Jew walled. “ Mine
ome of it!” ’
“ The madame wil take hear of it for ye!

' She’s got it now, hain’t she?”

’ye! You Member I said to ye: ‘ Baumhif yo

 

“Dhot vomansi” throwing up his hands. ‘f I
vhasa vhml vhor efer trusdin her vith dhot
sale illl She vhill t’e ruin 0 me!”

“ at’s what I to d ye at the time!” resolved

'1’. hot to become a comforter to this son of J acct

in his hour of amiction. “ That’s what I told

over git them things back, or a fair va y fer

 them from the madame, ’twill be a surprise to

mo!’ ‘1 1
The Jew nodded his head and wrung his
hands.

“ Bud vhat vhas I to do? 1 coult not bolt t’e
kiwi I coult not go down dhere and hat dhose
’bo if dhem ofer to me! Vhat coult- ! do
also! ell me dhot, vill you?”
I Tinchman was working toward an object yet
unrev'ealad.
“I say, let’s git out o’ hfyerl The longer we
* stay, the wuss we will be 0 . I’m sick a’re‘ad 1
“I’ll be as white and thin as a ghost if I stay n
, this hole much longer. The air is [0 cluse that
it jist nacherally kills me to breathe it.' I’m in
favor of makin’ a break 1”
“ And leaf all of dhose t’ingsl” again uplifting
his lliands. “ I vould not haf so much as a peg-
 l i

" V “ Baum. you’re lackiu’ in good. hard “"59",

staring at him as he delivered this compliment.

5‘ I don’t see how you ever managed to carry an
a bisuess like that. I hain’t no notion—4’

Here he dropped his vows and looked careful-

_ ly'around to make sure no one was near to hear

1 “ L-Of goln’ away from byer like aha.

:1 5:

 

 

kruptl” ,

\

"and ,opened on a diminutive garden—plot.

completing the Sentence. “Not ifI know my
self l hain’t.”

The Jew stared at him, not at once catching
the drift of the thought.

“Them things air hyer in the house, hain’t
they? An’ we know where they air!”

Baumgard began to understand.

“ Bud ve coult nod dake dhem vith us!”

“ Not all of them, of course! There was a
good many things in your shop, Baum, that I
Wouldn’t carry across the street, if you was
to give ’em to me. But there’s a good many
other things there that air diif’rent. What’s
to keep us from takin’ them!

“ An’ then there’s the madame’s diamonds!
She’s got ’em—genuine sparklers—an’ I’ve seen
’em, an’ know where they air!”

The Jew regarded him admiringly.

“I hain’t been a-nosin’ around hyer, my dear
uncle, with my eyes shet, like you have. You
bet, I hain'tl I know where them sparklers
air, an’ I know where the rest of her jewlery
is. I kin lay my hands on the hull of ’em in
five minutes. You don’t want to lose nothin’,
an’ yit we both want to git away. l'm free to
say that I’m on the make. The madame ’11 do
you up in that little deal, as sure as you’re a
sheenvl Why not git ahead of her? Run a
cold deck into the game, as ye may say i”

The Jew was every whit as unscrupulous as
his companion. Both were thieves, with all
the i nstincts. of thieves. 80 strong was the
development of their propensities in this line
that they would not hesitate torch their nearest
and dearest friends, if they could do so safely.
The madame had aided them, and was n0w
sheltering them: yet they were purposing to
turn and rend her.

“ It sdrikes me vavorahly!” the Jew declared,
pursing up his lips and pulling thoughtfully at
his big beak of a nose. “In t’e evend dhot we
can do as you say, it vill bay me vor all mine
troubles and losses. Id is a greed sgheme l”

“ A way-up scheme l” the cracksman asserted;
pleased to know that the Jew was likely to be a
willing assistant. “ Baumgard, it’ll make both
of us rich! Why, them sparklers air Worth a
half-dozen pawn-shops, to say nothin’ of the
other things we kin take. We kin go out of this
town with more solid wealth than either of us
ever had in our lives!”

The J ew’s eyes shone greedily.

- “Of course, there’s to be a fair divvy of the
swag l" Tinchman put in, with his usual caution.
“ After we divide even, you’ll then have more,
three times over, than you could ever - have
made out o‘ yer biznessl"

“Of gourse!” said the Jew, thinking of the
rich haul in store for them. “ How many
vhas dhey of dhose tiamontsl”

“Ear-rings and pin! But they air good ones.
I’m afeared to say jist how much I think they’d
bring, if the sale was worked right. They could
be taken out of the settin’s and sold as single
stones. Likely that’d be the best way; I’ve
no doubt that brother of yours in Ny orruk
could do the thing up brown 2”

He was talking for the purpose of increasing
the Jew’s cu idity, as he felt that Baumgard
would not me. e a bad ally in the attempt he had
in mind. He had other and secret thoughts,
which be carefully kept from his companion.
He would secure Baumgard’s aid in getting out
of the place, and when once they were safe he
mealiit to ruthlessly rob him of his share of the
s o s.

p“ Vhen viii ve do dhisi” looking to the cracks-
mar. for guidance.

“ This very night! It’s about ten o’clock
now, and we wont want to move until after
midnight. We’ll wait till everything is quiet!”

Baumgard leaned lazily back, wrapped in
dreams of the wealth that might yet be in store
for him; while Tinchman kept Covert watch on
him, giving his mind up to a further development
of his plans.

None of the other inmates of the house came
near them that evening, and they devoted much
of the time to a discussion of the contemplated
rob ’ . But evon then the hours dragged.

Tine man became so restless he could scarcely
longer endure the confinement and the delay.
He walked uneasily up and down the room, mut-
tcrin to himself, and cursing the luck that held
him t ere. ‘

The expected hour came at last, and the
cracksman made a circuit of the building, to as.
sure himself that all Within the house was quiet.
He did not know whether the madame or the
major Were at home or not. There had been a
light in the kitchen earlier in the evening, but
he r rded that as a fact of no consequence.

He ad removed his shoes, and before return-
ing to the Jew, be secured the diamonds and the
other articles he had intended! to take. He al-
most staggered under the load. There were
valuables of every description, among them a
a number of costly gold watches.

The bag containing these he handed to Baum-
gard. and bearing the remainder of tbeburden.
proceeded lightly down the stairway toward the
door by whlch they meant to make their exit
from the house. It was one of the rear doors,

at »',i‘inchman‘o ed this door and stepped softly
out intothan t.  - 'fareverythlifg had gone
' , i ‘ , v

a}.
.~. to

and a most an hour was consumed

 

 

well. But now he drew back, pulled the door to
fitter him, and stood undecided at the side of the
ew.

“ Cuss the luck!”

“My tear frient, vhat is t’e madderl” shiver-
ing with ill-defined fear.

“ If I hain’t mistaken, there’s a cop a-standin"
right by that fence!”

The Jew pulled the door slightly ajar and
glanced out.

Sure enough, a man was leaninglazily against
the low picket fence, seeming to be abstractedly
watching the flickering of a stl‘eetclampa square
or more away. He was dressed in ordinary citi-
zen’s clothing, and there seemed nothing suspi-
cious in his make-up. He was smoking, as was
shown by the red cigar-end which was occasion-
ally revealed.

“Coult you nod pe misdakeni" withdrawing
his head and addressing Tinchman. “ Dhot
does nod look like a boliceman!”

“That shows how much sense you’ve got!”
growlingly. “ I’ve seen too many of the gentry
not to know ’em. I hain’t afraid 0’ one man,

’ticularly; but where there’s one, there’s
iable to be more. They hunt in packs, like
wolves!”

He was silent for a time, as if reflecting on
what course to pursue. Then he put his bundle
on the floor, removed his shoes—which he had
only bad on for a few seconds—and crept into
the yard.

He remained out long enough to satisfy him-
self that the building was closely encompassed
by police spies, all of whom Wore citiZen’s cloth-
ing, and seemed to be doing nothing in particu-
lar but stand about and. converse with each
other, or smoke their cigars in solitude.

“ I wasn’t shore whether the madame was in
the house or not.” he muttered, as he slipped
back toward the door where he had left Baum-
gard. “But I’ll bet she is! Two to one, them
gentlemen are after her and the major as much
as they’re after me and the Israelite!”

Baumgard had not moved from his position
durin the cracksman’s absence.

“Its no go!” Tinchman whispered, “The
house is surrounded, and if we try to git out
now we’re sure to be nabbed!”

The J «W looked disconsolately at the packages
heaped at his feet.

“What will we do with them! We could
carry ’em back to where they belong, but I
hain’t a-goin’ to. The shudders made by this
house air purty heavy, an’ there’s a tree which ;
makes the yard darker. I’ll tell you what, we’ll
bury the hull rbilin’ of ’em under that tree; ai.’
then we’ll go back an’ play innocent an’ keep
mum until we have a better chance to give the
police the slip.” '

This seemed to both the wisest thing to do.
and they at once set about it. The packages
were borne to a place beneath the tree. and
buried in a hole whichthe two men scraped out
with their knives.

The worked very slowly and vs cautious] ,
n this tas .
Tinchman was not satisfied with the work until
bits of grass and fallen leaves had been scattered
over the spot to give it a natural look.

As they were returning to the rooms above,
and when near the one they had occu ied, they
were startled by the tread of light set. The
sounds were so indistinct they might not have
heard them had not their ears been unnaturally
strained. They crouched down, and waited to
ascertain the cause of these stealthy movements.
To their great surprise, they saw Laura Dutton
stealing carefully from point to pomt.

They could not understand the reason of this,

not knowing what commands had been laid on .

Laura by the detective. The girl was really en-
3 ed in trying to ferret out some of the mys~
te es connected with the house; -

As she  not far from them, the saw a
handkerc of drop from her rson at; fall to
the floor unnoticed by ‘her. he continued on
leaving it lyin there.

Tinchman anched the Jew’s arm.

“ D’ye see at?” ecstatically. “ The madame
’11 find that thing, and she’ll think it was the gal
that done the stealin’. That’ll threw her of our
track;and the fu’st chance We git, we kin go
down and dig up the swag and slide l”

 

CHAPTER XXXIII.
* rson nova ro TEARS.

Pooa Laura Dutton was all unconscious of the
tell-tale handkerchief She hadleft behind. She
had no right in that part of the h use, as she
Well knew. It was, to hentorbid en round.
But she had romised Singer Sam to 0 what
she could to ay bare the secret of the various
things that had uzzled him, and this she was
trying to do. 6 had said that there was a
room there which he could not find. She was
trying to locate it.

Her mission was unsuccessful. Whatever the
mysteries of the house were, they were guarded
well. She had been frightened from the at-
tempt by what seemed a low whispering. She
believed the sounds due to her imagination,
though they were made by Tinchman and the
Jew; and returned to the kitchen, and taller
bedroom, which adjoincd it. _

 

 

 

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'  Singer "Sam, the ’ Pilgrim Detective. ' .

'4 ‘\ . .r A. «\

 

 

This prowling search through the house
served one object at least. It gave her a. new
subject of thought to present to Tom Henderson,
when he came in the morning.

Tom, likewise, had Something to discuss: The
discovery of the spring-gun.

Henderson was undisturbed by the police in
his coming and going. They had certain in-
structions. Thin were to watch the house, and
permit no onevti) leave it or enter it without
observation. If the madame or the major
should imerge—nnd this order applied equally
to Tobe Tinchman, the Jew, and the negro-—
they were to be foIIOWezl; and, if they sought
to leave the town, were to be placed under ar-
rest.

These instructions, conjoined to the finding of
the spring-gun, were what sorely puzzled Singer
Sam. He had stated that he believed the plac-
ing of the gun to have been the work of the
negro. How the negro got out of the house with-
out being seen and followed, was what.he could
not understand.

This, h0wever, is not to the present pur-
pose, and will he explained in due course of
time.

Madame Muriel, not in the best of spirits,
and suffering from a blinding headache, the re-
sult of her recent excitements, came languidly
forward through the upper rooms in the early
hours of the morning, and stopped short when
she behold the handkerchief.

A swift change cums over her face. She re-
cognized that delicate piece of linen, and
its presance there was intensively sug estive.
She picked it up and scrutinized it. he ini-
tals, L. D. were Worked in a monogram in one
of the corners.

“The deceitful thing!" her eyes flashing.
“ She was up here last night. I told the major
he was a fo »1 for wanting her to return. I felt
sure all the time she had been spying. She
came up here no doubt to ace if she could dis-
cover something that would be of benefit to the
detective.”

The madame was a shrewd guesser, and had
hit the mark at the first trial.

She had oppOsed Dinsmore’s wish to have
Laura come back to the house. The major had
believed it would be safest to have the girl
. beneath that roof. He had explained his rea-
sons for thinking so, but they had not been
satisfactory to the madame; and now the
madame felt she had ample proof of the wisdom
if her advice.

The madame did not at once proceed to the
kitchen, deeming it best to think the matter
over seriously before charging the girl with du-
plicity. The madame had so many things to
think about in those days and nights that her
head fairly swam because of its burden.

With {OUtSIGpB that were unusually shaky, she
Went in search of the major. She found him
standing in open-eyed astonishment before the
unclosed case which had contained her jewels.
He had been the first to discover their ions, have
ing chanced that way and observed the case to
be open. \‘ ‘ - .

He pointed dumfoundedly to the evidence of
robbery. ‘

The madame ran forward, her hands clasped,
and an inarticulate cry on her lips.

“Who do you suppose can have done that?”
was the iiiujor’s hollow question. “I came by
here, not dreaming that anything might be
wrong, when I saw this lid open 1”

The Woman held up the handkerchief.

“ And I found this near one of the other rooms
just a little while ago! Can "there be any con-
nection between their?" -

The major looked at the handkerchief amazed-

y“ It is Laura’s !”

“ Of course! You don’t need to tell a that!
But is there any connection between th hand-
i kerchief and the robbery of the jewel easel
Somebody took the jewels last. night. and some-
body dropped this handkerchief last night! Was
it one an the same person?”

She was half distracted by the unexpected 105.
The jewels were extremely valuable. They were
even too valuable to be frequently worn. They
had not been purchased for that purpose, dearly
as she loved display. It was a compact and con-
venient way to invest a large amount of money.
If com lied to flight, the jewels could be taken,
if all e so had to be abandoned. "

Just at that time, when the were making all
preparationil for a stealthy e
the claw tall with special severi . _,

The major knew not what fart er comment’eo
fllllakJe, but at a venture suggested Tinchman and
t 8 ON.

The madame was almost too nervous to think I

\coanectsdly. ,
“ I don't doubt they would do it, even after
all I have done for‘them. Yes, they would rob
mgrlwhile ilinder  shelter (gab my marl!” i
emaiame, e m erpeope, was n~
clined to take to bemfiymdit which was not
really 'her due. She had not given Tinchmm
and the pawnbroker shelter because [the highly
regarded them but becawm was safest for her-
self to deco. he [many secrets 1‘6-
toherand t em . Secreth ich she

   
 
 

   

.\

t fromtha town,

   

 

. latin 4
' ; notional-duo have flown,pnd;wnio might

become known should thev be arrested. Hence,
she had taken them in and concealed them.

“ I’m sure I don’t know what to do!” the major
confessed, looking doubtfully from her to the
empty case. “ It hardly seems that the men
would take them, and still remain in the house!”

“ But are they still in the house?"

The major had hopes of being able to break

through the line of policemen now guarding the j

house, and it might be that Tinchman and Baum-
gard had been able to do so.

He did not reply to the inadame’s question, but
hlilistened away to ascertain if the men were still
t ere.

He found them in their room, apparently sleep-
ing soundly, as if they had not a thought to
trouble them.

He returned to the madame with this infor-
mation.

“Then it was Laura!” with a vicious click-
ing of the firm, white teeth. “ I told you,
major, we could not trust that girl; and you
would have her returned! And now you see
the result! How can we leave here without
those jewels?”

It was a hard question. Dinsmore frowned,
not liking the madame’s tone of reproach.

“ You can go to the girl, and if she is guilty,
Virhaps you can force a confession from her.

e’re bound to have those jewels!”

“ And if she won’t confess?”

“ There’s only one otherthingl You can turn
the pawn-shop material and the property over
to Langston and force him to give you a lot of
money!”

“ But the police, major !"

For a moment a scared look sat on the major’s

ace.

“Confound the police! I had almost forgot-
ten theml We must have thOSe jewels!”

Madame Muriel was so wrought up that 'she
did not tarry long to discuss the subject, but
hurried t0ward the kitchen, busy with plans for
forcing a confession from Laura Dutton.

The sounds of voices caused her to halt at the
top of the stairway. The panic of a sudden
fright seized her, produced /hy those voices.
Her first thought was that the police were in the
kitchen; and she was about to fly back along
the way she had come to warn Dinsmore and
their confederates. But she caught her breath
with a sigh of relief, when she knew that the
vpilces were only those of Henderson and the
gir .

She slipped softly down to the door, thinking
she might overhear something of value. She

hardly thought it likely that Laura would cou- !
fess the theft to Henderson. but she aiigued that i

there was no telling. She knew that enderson
was recognized by the girl as a suitor, {and her
experience in the fortune—telling business told
her that young and foolish girls frequently con-
fided important, secrets to the men they loved.

She crouched at the foot of the stairway and i

listened intently. Not satisfied with this, she
half-arose, and applied an eye to the keyhole.
Henderson was si ing near the girl, holding
one of her hands in h s, and speaking 'on the sub-
ject that was constantly uppermost in the minds
of these two. The girl was blushing as redly
as any rose. The madame hit her lip in disap-
pointment. She wasnot to hear what she hoped;
but, nevertheless, she did not Cease her spying.
“ I‘his hull hizness ’ll be wound up in a day or

two, an’ I’ll be glad of it,” she heard Henderson '

say. “ Not that l’m tired of bain’ around here,
a-seein’ and a-talkiu’ to you, Laura! Not by
any means! But mebbe ou’ll agree, then, to
make my home yours; andY Ican see and talk
with
non].

The conversation seemed about tolend, for he
arose to his feet. He still held the girl’s hand,
howaver, and now stooped above her. ,

" You will give me that promise, won’t you?”
he pleaded. ' ‘ ,

The madame could opt hear the girl’s low-
spokeu reply; but she saw Henderson stoopand
kiss Laura, and then go slowly and reverently
out of the house. _

She waited until sure Henderson had depart-
ed for good, then opened the door and stepped
very stifliy and dignifiedly into the kitchen.
Laura had not her heard her descend the stair-
way, and so gave a"little start when the door
opened and she beheld the madame.

The latter watching eagle-eyed for some inan-
ifestation of guilt, caught at this, very natural
movement. - , 1- -

She said nothing, at first, but hold up the
handkerchief, I

“Do you know where I found this?” in tones
that were extremely icy. . . ‘

Laura flushed painfu ly, as she paw the bit; of
linen. She had not missed it, but she‘knew now
that she had dropped it. somewhere in her wan-
derings through the forbidden rooms.

“ I—l—” she stammei'ed." ; .

“ 130 {bu know where 1 found it?” sharply and
y. i ,l I

incisive '

Laura did not reply“ She was trembling vio-
lently, in spite of her efforts to remain calm,
lad the tears bad sprung to her eyes,

“I will tell youWhe‘rLI found ligand then
you must tell a where myjewels up " 

Th m’se. spawned in wid _‘ ‘ ‘

    

’you a good deal more than than I can even.

- not care to see the cowboy just .

    

! “ Your jewels?” she gasped.

! " Yes, my jewels! You took them last night.
1 You cannot deny it. 1 can see guilt written in
! your face! And if I needed any added proof,
i here is your handkerchief. You dropped it.
! while prowling about the rooms in search of the
l jewel case, or as you came away!”

“ You are mistaken, Madame Muriel!” Laura.
asserted, very earnestly and very decidedly.
“ I never took your jewels!”

“ It will do you no good to lie to me, Laura!”
with an expression that was almost fiendish.
“My diamonds were stolen last night, and I
know you stole them i"

“ indeed, Madame Muriel, I did not!”

“Then explain about this handkerchief!” was
the request, in the madame's firmest tones.

Laura could not explain, without incriminat-
ing herself. She felt she could not confess to
the madame her purpose in visiting the upper
rooms. There was only one other refuge, and
that was to give way to her emotions in an out-
burst of tears, and this she did.

The madame looked at her sternly and re-
lentlessly, believing her guilty of the theft of
the jewels. She was aboutto sh0wer her with
reproaches, when there was an emphatic ring
at the front doorbell. The madame paled, and
withheld her denunciations.

Her thou ht was that this might mean'the
coming of t e dreaded police; and thinking so,
she hurried upstairs to warn the men, before
descending to adir it the unwelcome visitor.

When she opened the door, she saw before her
Cecil Marsden.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
WHAT was FOUND IN THE WALL

JIM BASS was sauntering slowly up the street
when Tom Henderson came from Madame
Muricl’s kitchen, that morning. Now, while
Bass was a braggart and blusterer, he was also
inclined to be jocular and j0vial. He had
claimed Laura Dutton as his sweetheart for so
long that he really felt he had paramount rights
there. But he also recognized the fact that in
love affairs, the race is to the winner.

It is doubtful if Bass really cared for any one
in a whole-hearted, unselfish way. He fancied
Laura Button, and thought she would makea
good wife. But the marriage, of which he had
so frequently spoken, was viewed by him more
in the light of a business transaction than of a
purely love-affair.

He saw Henderson, as the latter made his
way from the house; and, going up to him,
tapped him on the shoulder, at the same time
drawing himself up with the airso peculianto
him. ~

“I say, Henderson! Hain’t you a-crowdin’
matters rother fast over there?”

Bass could not be umnindful of the light that
shone in Henderson’s eyes, for. Henderson’s face
was irradiated by the tender mission that bad
growu up in his heart. This was especially
noticeable at. that moment—for had he not been .
accepted by the sweetest and best woman in the
World?

He flushed painfully under the cowboy’s gene.
The question was so unexpected that he had no
reply for it.

“1 say, is it jist the fair thing?” looking at- '
him with pretended sternness. “Hyer I’ve
been a-wastin’ vallyhle 51 .pin’ hours a-settin’
up with that charmin’ cree er, only to hand her
gver to you at the last minute! Is it a fair

call

“Answer me that, will ye?” ta pin him
a ain on the shoulder. “ Is it a fair eal \

enderson forced‘a laugh.

“ E'verything’s fair in love and war—”

“ An’ the detective bizness! Yes, I ’low it is!
An’ I’m glad you put it that way, for I was jist‘ _,
on the p’int o’ pullin’ my gun on you an’ puttin’ ‘
a stop to your matermonial intentions!

“ Singer Sam sent me down hyer to see you i” 
changing his ner. “Hp wants you? up at.
the house, this m nuts. Ah', while you’re gone,

 

her explain why she prefers you to me. Why
dadvgast it, Henderson! I’m the best lookinl‘
man of the two! A heap the best lookin’l”
~ 'He drew himself up by Henderson’s tall form
for comparison. v ' _ ,
“I’ll leave itto an gal in the town! Any" -.'
sensible gal! Not to on Button for she’s lost
what little songs she had. She must have, also
she wouldn’t pick you out in place of me. But‘
I’m a-goin’ into see her, all the “same!” ,_
Henderson caught him by the arm and de-z 
tained him. He did not want Bassto intrude
on Laura at that moment, feelin that she would ’
“Come, go back to the'houee with me! You ‘ "
me last night {you were knockin’o work fora
few days. I there’s aconference to be held,
perhaps you’ll he wanted.” - 
Boss’s curiosit ' was still exercised over. the
mysterious talk in the kitchen at Hender-
son’s the previous evening. It occurred whim
that he might gain some information if he no»
turned to the house, that would  in:

    

  

 

 
 

elucidating the puzzle. Therefore, be it 
ingly turned about and accompanied 

4

i

 

~

I’m a-goin’ over-to tackle that girl andmako 

can call on her at any time, to-daybfor you told '- .. 

     
    

4.--.4...” -. .. . v. ~ ... . .

.. getaways -

MM
mg'x‘ .. .v

z: ,
s.
I .V,

 

   
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
   
   
 
 
   
 

V had pointed.

26 V

Singer Sam, the Pilgrim Detective.

 

“ I wonder what 0909 was a-doin’ at the
madame’s front door a while ago?” Bass asked,
as he linked his arm into the miner’s. “I See
him walk up to it as if he meant to ring.”

This was news to Henderson; and as they
walked on. they fell to wondering what it
might mean.

Singer Sam was awaiting them at the house.
They found him singing somewhat mixedly and
excitedly. On the table before him were spread
some valuables.

“ Do you see these?” he Buid, pointing them out
to Henderson. “ If you’ll help me to explain
them you will do me a favor.”

Henderson stared at the trinkets, not exactly
understanding the situation.

“I found them tucked in between some boards
in the wall Over there. You never had any oc-
casion for concealing anything of the kind?”

“ Never!” and Henderson bent low over the
articles. “I never saw them before.”

He looked at the wall to which the detective
The house was celled, and he now
saw that one of the boards had been pried loose.
It had fallen out of place.

Singer Sam got up and walked over to the
board as he talked.

“ It was just an accident that caused me to
notice this. I saw that the board had been only
lately misplaced. I could not remember that it
had been loose before, and so lgot up to examine
it. I saw a piece of paper tucked in there, and
that I drew out, for a feeling had come to me
that here was something w hich needed investi-
gation. You see, when it was ried off and the

aper thrust in there, the boar was shoved back
into place; but in such a way that a cl03o look-
ing would show it had been tampered with. It
was. not refastened securely, and dropped out;
and that’s how I happened to see it.”

He pushed the board to where it belonged, to
illustrate his words.

“ I never knew anything about that,” Hender-
son averred, much mystified. “ You found the
things in the paper you took out 0’ there?”

“ That’s where I found them,” returning to
the table whereon they lay. “ They were done
up snugly in the paper. It was a neat trick.
wanted to see you before coming to any conclu-
sion. I did not think you knew anything about
them, but of course there was a possibility.”

Bass had sat himself down before the table,
and was staring at the articles open-mouthedly,
very much aszif he fanciin they might be good to
eat. The deteczive had not acquainted him with
the nature of the discovery before sending him
for Henderson.

“ Well, dad-gast mei That does beat all!
They’re a lot of parties, ain’t they? If Hender-
son, hyer, hadn’t stole my gel from me, I’d feel
like buyin’ the hull lot, an’ takiu’ ’em to her for
a present. I would sol She’d shine up, a—wear-
in all that truck, wouldn’t she?”

The others paid scant heed to Bass's words,
being engrossed in thoughts of the find.

‘AWhat do you make of it?” Henderson que-
rie .

,“ Just this—since you don’t knoxv anything
about them. Those things were taken from
Langston’s by Tinchman and the Jew, when they
burglarized that gentleman’s house. You know,
we’ve concluded that they did the work, and did
it for the purpose of getting you and Cecil into
trouble. One of them, or some ally—perhaps
Dinsmore or the negro—came down here when
no one was at home and placed these things in
there. They could do that as easily as they could
get into the house and set up a spring gun. And
they did it for the purpose of convicting you and
Cecil of the burglary. They believed Langston
would cause a search to be made of the house.
Very probably, they felt able to_induce him to
do that. Probably too, that task would have
been delegated to Madame Muriel, because of
her influence over Langston.

" If that had been dope, and these things
fopnd here, you can see how hard the case
would be likely to go against you i”

“ Why wasn’t it done!

“ Because I moved so quickly against the Jew.
That move threw their lans into confusion.
The trial will not come 0 for a week or more,
and all of them will be at the end of their teth-
er lon before that. In my judgment. that’s the
only t ing that kept them rom pushing Lang-
ston on to make a search l”

’ He said this with the air of a man who is firm-
ly convinced that he has hit upon the true solu-
tion of a very troublesome question.

CHAPTER XXXV.
CECIL Hanson‘s PIRIL.

THE madame was in no very amiable mood
when she beheld Cecil Marsden. Her face show-
ed tokens of the excitement she had recently
undergone; and Cecil in 7oluntsrily drew hack.

“ You want to see me!” she inquired, coaxing
up a smile.

The sudden hope had cometo her that Singer
Sam or Roscommon meant to lower their de-
msnds, and that the outlook for her and the
ms 'or might still he better than she had thought.
 he boy reached into his pocket foralnote he
had brought from R'iscommon. /

v “ Come up stairs,” urged the madame. glauc-
In; around to see if any of the police were watch-

 

 

 

  

ing her, or near enough to hear her words. For
a wonder not one of those gentlemen appeared
within the field of her vision.

Cecil reluctantly followed her up the stairway
and into the room to which he had been conduct-
ed on a previous occasion.

The same creepy feeling came over him as he
entered this room. There was in it a suggestion
of evil, or danger, which he could int shake off.
The madame seemed to him more like an ogrcs:
than a real woman, and he shrunk as must the
childrui of the fairy talus when they were about
to be devoured by such monsters.

The madame, however, was all sweetness and
smiles; and when she had shown him to a seat,
she took the letter from his hands, and read it.

It contained nothing new or very startling.
It was a final appeal from the young lawyer,
urging her and the major to make restitution
of the money obtained from the Quindaros.
Even at that late stage of the game, be prom-
ised them that if they would do so, he would
do what he could to aid them. He did not
state that he thought they could get off with-
out punishment, but agreed to use his influ-
ence to make this as light as possible.

It was the same offer which the detective
had made in verbol form.

The madame smiled :cornfullv, as she ran her
eyes down the written page. 0 make restitu-
t.on, was a thing she and the major had no
thought of doing. All their earthly posses-
sions would scarcely have netted twenty thou-
sand dollars: and to go out into the world beg.
gared, was, to her, a horrible thought.

Besides, she Was counting strongly on their
ability to make their escape from the house,
notwithstanding that it was under police sur-
veillance.

-She sat glancing at the letter abstractedly,
but not seeing a word it contained; and a ter-
rible rage sWelled up in her heart as she
thought of how she and the major were hound-
ed and hedged in.

With a glance at the boy, as if she wished
she mi ht strike him dead at her feet, she
crump ed the letter in her hand and quitted
the room.

She returned shortly, having in the mean
while peeped into the kitchen to ascertain if
Laura Dutton was still there.

“ You will tell Mr. Paul Rescommon,” and
she smiled as she had done on admittiu the
boy to the house, “that I have talked wit the
major, and we think very well of his offer.

There are some preliminaries, though, which

will take timi- to arrange. We want to make
him a proposition, which, if he accepts, will
enable us to restore this money of which he
speaks in the letter. You hava read the let-
ter l .

Cecil replied that he had not.

“ It does not matter. Mr. Roscommon will
understand me. The letter mentions a. sum of
money which he wants me to ay over. This
evening I can tell him definite y whether I can
do it or not. You may assure him that I will,
if I can. Tell him that I shall have to see
Mr. Langston. Don’t forget that, please. I
shall have to‘ see Mr. Langston; then, if you
will come here- late this evening, I will have
an answer ready, which. you can take to him.”

She. was” benignancy itself, as she delivered
this message, and the smile did not leave her
face until she had shown him down the stair-
wa and out of the house.

be black look came back, though, as she
turned toward the kitchen, thinking of Laura.
Dutton and the missing diamonds.

Her further interview with Laura was, to
the latter, painful! in the extreme. But the
girl met the madame’s charges with womanly
firmness. She had had time to nerve herself,
and to gather strength against the madame's
attack. She resolutely denied all knowledge
of the lost articles, and would not, be brow-
beaten into confessing that she tookthem; and
the madame was forced to retire discomfited
from the field.

That afternoon the madame arrayed herself
in her costliest robes, and paid a visit to John
Lan ston. The result of that visit was not
who ly satisfactory.

Langston was willing to do something toaid
her, but not to the extent demanded.

Therefore. on her, return to the house—she
was followed 13v police spies to and from Lang-
ston’s—she ha a long conference with Dins—
more, at which it was agreed they should en-
deavor to make their escape that night.

The fact that the madame had found it easy
to come and go encouraged them. They knew
they were watched; but, if permitted to leave
the house, the hoped that somewhere in the
town they mig t be able to throw the spies oil!
the track and succeed in getting away. ‘

The shadows of night were at hand, when
Cecil Marsden returned to the madame’s for the
answer she had promised him.

There had been other conferences besides the
one engaged in by the madame and the ms or.
The most important of these was one he) in
Roscommon’s omce,‘ st Which there were only
present Singer Sum; Cecil and the young law-

er. The detective did not believe the madame
onld do snythl fsrguing that she was only

     

 

 

temporizing for purposcs of delay. Roscom-
mon hoped for better things; but it was decided
that if the madame and the major did not cometx r
terms that night—and within a few hours—,thc
arrest should be made.

Understanding all this, Cecil came back to
Madame Muriel s, and rung at the door.

The woman came down to admit him as she
had done in the morning. She was also as radi-
ant and smiling. Ti e boy could not know that
her heart was boiling over wiih suppressed rage
against him. He could not know that the dc»
signs of a fiend were working: in the mind
masked behind that cordial smile. If he had
kriown, he would have fled from the place and
from her presence as from the presence of a
pestilence.

He ascended the stairway as unconscious ol‘
the peril that menaced him as if he were only an
innocent fly creeping into the meshes of a spi-
der’s web.

The intentions of the madame and the major
concerning him were deadly. They had reasons
for disliking him; reasons which have not yet
been made manifest, and which caused them to
fear him as well as dislike him.

After reaching her room, she conversed with

,him a short time, trying to draw from him

something of the intentions of her enemies.
But Cecil was to wary too let slip any secrets.
He replied courteously to her inquiries, but
would not be trapped into revealing anything
which she desired to know.

A fierce look swept to her face, when she saw
she was to fail in this effort; and she arose and
clapped her hands together sharply.

It seemed some kind of a call, ominous of
ganger; and Cecil sprung up, contemplating

ight.

Before he could take a step, the negro, J ingo,
rushed from behind some conCealing curtains,
and fell upon him furiously.

The boy uttered a sharp cry of pain and
fright; which was not loud enough, however, to
be heard in the street. But it penetrated to
the kitchen and drew Laura DuttOn to the seen:-
of action.

She had observed him enter the house, and
had feared for him, and so had been listening for
some such indication of treachery.

The anguish of the cry arouaed within her a
hitherto unknown courage, and she flow up the
stairway regardless of what the consequences to
herself might be. p

The negro was holding the boy down and bind—
ing him, when she reached the rodm.

‘ What are you doing with him ?” she demand-
ed, with hot indignation. “ If you don’t release
him, I shall call for help!”

The madame was frenzied by this interruption
and by the threat.

She sprung at the girl like an infuriated ani-
mal, and seizing her by the hair tried to pull her
to the floor. The negro had the boy bound and
gagged, and instantly leaped to the woman’s as-
sistance. His first act was to clutch the girl by
the throat to k’eep her from crying out.

“ You’ll call for the police, will you i” the
madame sneered. “ We’ll 2970 you a chance to
call to your heart’s content!” _

CHAPTER XXXVI.
INTO THE Dnr'ras.

LAURA Dor'ron was powerless in the negro’s
grasp. She began to understand, too, that she
had committed a great folly in thus impulsively
rushing to the aid of’ the boy. She could have
called to the police from the kitchen. But she
hadmot thought of that at the time. It was too
late, now. She had failed to help Cecil, and had
brought to herself the same peril.

As soon as she saw that the negro would be
able to handle the girl with ease, the madame
flew to the doors opening on the stairways, and
closed them to keep any sounds of the struggle
from reaching the police.

By the time she had done this, the black had
choked the girl into a state of semi-insensibility.

“ Oh, yes, she’ll call for the police l” scorn-
fully, as she looked down at the girl’s distorted
face and discolored throat. “I’ve fooled with
her just as long as I am going to!”

Cecil lay on the carpet, bound and helpless, his
eyes rolling wildly as he saw the enactment of
t is dreadful scene. What terrible thing was in
store for him, and for Laura Dutton, he did not
know; but he had seen enough to cause him to
fear the worst.

The negro seemed to know what as wanted,
without any orders from Madame uriel. He
lifted Laura Dutton; and, while the woman held
the curtains aside for him to pass, bore her into
a little room but a few feet aWay.

This was the room which Laura had sought
forand failed to find on the previous night. It
was the r00m in which Singer Sam had been
placed, and from which‘ he had been so mysteri-
ously conveyed. ~ The police, under his guidance,
had searched the house and failed to find it; and
yet it had been there all the while.

Madame Muriel stood over Ithe girl while the
negro went to bring the boy. Laura was recov-
ering from the temporary swoon into which she
had been thrpwn by the merciless chokin .'

“ Call, if you Wish!” the madame

 

      

  

 

when she saw the light of returning corrosion»1

swanky? . .03..

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‘"'mw;é¥g;g~g,fwt.'mpm - . \ V P
I . r I. V ' . ‘ .z‘ .

4'. 1.; f; a} g‘  '-

ness. “ Call, it you wish! No one can hear you
here!"

The girl shivered and put up her hands appeal-
ingly. She might as well have pleaded with a
stone.

" Do you know what we are going to do with
you two?" as Cecil was tossed down rather
roughly at Laura’s side. “ We intend to place
you where you can about to younheurts’ content
Without any danger of disturbing the llelgh-
bors!”

The madame was giving free play to the bell-
ish passions that had been for so many hours
seething in her soul. She was becoming reckless
of consequences, only thinking of the pleasure
which this fierce measure of vengeance was
bringin her.

“An when you shout and groan and wail
and weep—as you Willi-as you will l—remem-
ber Madame Muriel! She will not be here to
listen to you, but she’ll know of it: and the
knowledge will help her on her way i”

The sentences were delivered like blows, and the
cowering figures on the floor of the little room
crouched and shiVered as if in momentary ex~
pectation of death. Never before had they
fialized what a fiend incarnate was this Madame

uriel.

They were so oppressed by the honors of their
situation, they could scarcely have struggled if
an opportunity for so,doing had presented. No
such opportunity came.

The negro and the woman stepped back from
the room, the latter crying out to them to re-

- main quiet under pain of death.

There were tasseled cords depending from one
of the curtains, and the black gave these cordsa
sharp pull.

In spite of her fears of the madame, Laura
lifted herself with a little shriek of terror. At
first glance, she thought the ceiling was de-
scending to crush them. It was not the ceiling,
but was four walls in shape like a. bottomless
box. This slipped down with surprising
rapidity. inclosing the little room in which they
lay, and shutting them out from any hope of
escape.

The little room was really an elevator, ar-
ranged to be concealed by these four de~cending
we] 9. Whenever these were let down to the
floor they were so jotned with the walls on either
hand that no break was visible. or only so slight
a. one that it was readily concealed by the cur-
tains. This will explain why Singer Sim and
his associates were unable to find the room into
which he knew he had been conveyed.

The descmt of the box-like ('onti'ivance shut
out every ray of light. and so terrified the hap-
less prisoners that they began to utter ngonized
screams.

The madame’s mocking laugh, sounding faint
and far away, reached them; and they'knew
that should they shout never so loudly their
chance of being heard was slight indeed.

With the lowering of the walls, the room itself
appeared to be put in motion, and a gliding,
swinging sensation was felt. ‘

They knew then that they were really in an
elevator, which was being sent down toward
some underground depths, the gloom and ter-
ribleneSS of which they feared to picture.

Laura Dutton sprung to her feet, wild with
frenzy, and ran from side to side of the little
apartment, screaming hysterically and heating
at the barriers with her hands.

Cecil Marsden was in a condition of equal ter-
ror: and, though he could not rise, added his
cries to hers.

The elevator came to a halt with a jolt; and
the girl, still rushing blindly about, felt her
hands touch a door-like surface. It was a door,
which was not difficult to o n.

She slipped it aside, so was about to rush
out, when she recalled Cecile condition. With
the opening of the door, a knowledge of where
they were came to her. She knew they were
in the basement. -

She had been in it frequently, and had never
noticed anything wrong there. But this ele-
vator had upset all her ideas. She was ready
to believe now that there was a hole in the
basement floor by which they might be lowered
to still further depths. 1

Nevertheless, she ut aside her fears and
turned back to Cecfl. He was moaning and
uttering inarticulate sentences. Laura reached

. dawn and endeavored to relieve him of his

bonds. They had been knotted so fast this was
impossible.
“There‘s a’ knife in my ket,” said the boy.
:bln my right pocket. et it out. and cut
em. -

The knife was easily found, and with its blade
the cords were covered. Then Laura half-drag-
ged him from the clovntor.

“I know where we are," was her encouraging
whisper. “'I hope we may be able to get out.
I am familiar with the position of the deer.”

' Her hopes were not so stron as she wished

to make Cecil think them. 8 e could hardly
escape the conviction that the madame would
not have consigned t to the basement if
there was an easy way of egress.

The we joined hands. and without another
word Laura led the way to the ‘door. She found
it, but it was barred so they could not get out.

 

"M  ‘ '

Singer Sam, the P

 

    

' . .’y;:.. ,1 ,~ '7

It was useless to shout at this point for help;
and, remembering the coal-hole, she turned from
the door.

She found they could not reach that. It
opened from a coal-romn, which was filled with
coal and locked from the basement side.

It was plain the madame had understood r~
fectly well what she was doing. They might
scream and shout and burl themselves against
the hard walls, but no good could come of it.

Both were in such a state of high n’erous ten-
sion they could not remain still; and so, when
they found they could not gain access to the
coal-hole nor make their way out by the base-
ment door, they hastened back toward the ele-
vator.

The place was almost pitcliy dark, and they
stumbled and bruised themselves as they raced
recklessly along. To these small hurts they paid
no heed, being almost unconscious of receiving
them.

Laura stopped with a gas of dismay, on ar-
riving at the point where s 6 expected to find
the elevator. They had not thought of re-
entering it, but to be near it won seem to
place them in closer communication with the
outer world. But the elevator was gone! It
had been drawn up, and no trace of its recent
preset me there was discernible.

“ Oliwhat shall we do?” Cecil moaned, sinking
disconsolately to the damp floor.

“ This is dreadful !” was Laura’s exclamation,
her tones the very essence of terror and dis-
mfly.

There was apparently nothing for them t3 do
only to rrmain there until help should C(lme from
some sourCe. Would it ever come? That was a

uestion they could not anSWer. They almost
cared it would not. ‘

No one could know they were in there, and
therefore would not dream of searching the base-
ment for them. And they had already con-
vinced themselves that calls for aid were a mere
waste of breath. ‘

They could not sit there idle, bewever, when
there was the 311 htest chancc of finding a way
out; and so they gun a thorough search of the
gloomy place, poking into every hole and cranny
for some opening that might perchance lead the
way to liberty.

Even this they abandoned after a time and
gave themselves a prey to the deepest despair.

 

\ CHAPTER XXXVII.
PLANNING FOR FLIGHT.

“ LET them remain there and rot l” was the ma-
dame’s vindictive cry as she saw the elevator
descend with its burden. “Ayl let them rotl
Or, better—let them wander there in the dark-
ness until they go raving crazy l”

The bitterness of her hate for these two
seemed to have suddenly concentrated itself in-
to this effort against them. \

“Now we must get ready to leave," turning
upon the negro, who, like her, had been staring
at the descending elevator. “ We haven’t a mo—
ment to lose now! Get everything in shape,
whilenl go and speak to Tinchman and Baum-

ul‘d.

She did not remain to see that her orders
were obeyed, but rushed awayto confer with
the cracksnian and the J ew. .

She deviated from her direct course thither,
however, and, turning into a room, took from a
bureuu~drawer some small articles which she
placed in the pocket of her dress.

The cracksman and his iconipanion-in-hiding
had been Conversing on the subject that was
constantly uplpermost in their minds, vim—their
escape and t e securing of the valuables buried
beneath the tree in the back yard. The ma.
dame’s name had just been on their lips when
she made her sudden appearance before them.

Some distance separated them from that 'pe

portion of the house where the assault on Laura
and Cecil occurred, and they were therefore not
aware of vi hat had SO latelyr taken place.

“Speak 0’ the dev“. fln’ you’ll ree one 0’ his
lmPA‘.” Tmcmmm Wbl‘ Gil to the Jew, as their
ears caught the ruste ol' the madame’g gm-
merits. “ Mebbe she hain'c one o» rem! Oh,
1101 She‘s a angel 1”

The madame stood before them before the
Jew could reply. . l '

u I SbOUld like to see Baumgam 3 little
while,” she said. “ It's not a matter of much
coaguluenwi but I’m havin some trouble with
Langston OVBI' that saleblll and the value of
the things that were said to be in the pawnoshop.
Perha Baumgard can make an explanation
that will satisfy him.“

This "85 33“ to Prevent the cracksman from
suspecting her real motive in seeking out the
Jew. It was satisfactory; and Tinchman did
not once dream that she had made a false state.

ment. .

Baumgdrd followed her, also thinking she had
Inches truly.

“ See here. Baumgard ” turni on him when
the had reached the p vacy of or den. “ I’m
Rat sfled the police intend to raid this house
30-13mm. and ’m' going to getlout of it just as
soon as I cant”! I v
The Jew looked in the direction of tbs elevator

room.  place in which hand Tinchman had

k

ilgrim Detective.

 

   

27

been hidden when the search for them had been
made.

“ I don‘t think you would be safe in there
again,” she asserted, interpreting the look.

She had her own reasons for wishing to make
him think so.

The Jew shrugged his shoulders questioning~
ly, at the same time elevating his hands in his
Characteristic way.

“ Ach! Mine gootnessl Isb dbot so?"

“ It’s so! That’s why I called you out here.
I don’t think it will be long before the police
make their appearance. Now, I want to help
you. You and Tinchman both can’t get out of
bare—at least not in the way I have planned.
Tinchman will have to look out for himself.
You assisted me in that pawn—shop matter, and
now I have a chance to pay you hackl”

Banmgard shrugged his shoulders again,
thinking of the jewels concealed in the yard.

“Yes; you helped me, and I propose to help

on. Cecil Marsden came up here a while ago.

had him put in the elevator and sent down to
the basement. He is there new, and he can’t get;
out. I wanted to punish him for some of his
smartness, and at the same time to prepare a
way for you to escape.”

The Jew bewilderedly muttered his thanks.

“The clothes you were when you went to
Langston’s with Tinchman,” the madame con-
tinued, unfolding her plan, "are here in the
house. I want you to dress as you did then-
Then I can let you out the front way, and
thaw, policemen will never dream but that you
are Ceiil Marsden.” ,

It struck the Jew as a brilliant idea. There
was only one drawback to it. If he left by
the front entrance, he could not unearth and
carry away the things hidden beneath the tree.
This he had resolved upon, as soon as he knew
the madame was planning for his escape. Tinch’
man had thought to eventually rob the Jew, and
now the Jew was scheming to serve him in like
fashion. ‘

“ Acn! Dhot vas fine! But I am afeart to go
out py t‘e vrcnt door. 1 am [avraid dhem men
vill gatch me vhor sure!”

The madame frowned, not liking this proposed
alteration. She could not understand why it
should be more dangerous to leave by the front
door than by the rear; and she told Baumgarti

so.

“ It ish as you say!” shrugging his shoulders.

“Then, I say go out by the front entrance!
And we haven‘t much time to lose here talking!
You’ll find the clothing in that bundle. Go into
one of the rooms and make the change; and
hurry about it; for it Tinchman should come out
and discover 3 on it might spoil all 1” ~

The Jew t0ok the clothin and darted away.
He had not abandoned the idea of securing the
secreted valuables He believed he could get
them, though, even if forced to go out by the
front.

As for the madame, she was pleased with the
Jew’s acquiescence; and hustled into another
apartment, hurrying her Own preparations for
departure. If Banmgard succceded in making
his way through the police cordon by fooling
the (flicers into a belief that he was Cecil
Marsden, it would probably stave 03 for a time
the searching of the bonse.

She found the negro already dressed in cloth-
ing closely resembling that worn by the police.
She uttered a compliment, and hastened away
to dress herself similarly.‘ She hoped it would
beegossible to get out of the building thus at—
tir . '

Before making this change, however,!sho re--
turned to see how the Jev. was progressing.
She found his makeup satisfactory. At a short
distance, and especially in the dark, it would
have been almost- im ossiblc to tell that the
Jew was not the boy e ap red to be. The
what lump on the back was very marked.
“You'll dol” the madame confessed, admit»
I “Now get out of here Just as quick as
you can." '

Boumgard was only too lad to obey; and he
followed her obediently own the stairway.
She opened the door; and when be had reached
the pavement, watched him through a small
aperture, as he walked carelessly up the street.

“ He’s sure to fool them l”clasping her bands do»
lightedly.

.She continued to gore after him until he
disappeared, and then remained there listening
for any sounds which might indicate his'dis—
covery.

/ None came; and she climbed breathlesslz back
to the upper apartments, congratulating
on the success of this Venture.

The Jew, in spite bf his apparent noncha-
lance, was trembling inl’every fiber as he strode
away from the buildin . To be suspected,
meant discovery, and a v sta of horrors waited
on that. '

Be soamelydared to look about him no he
strode up the street, fearing to see the beckon-
ing finger of one of the ofllcers, or to hear the
commandto halt. But he passed the g

in safety. Bis disguise was really so perfect that, I,

not one of the lies spies dreamed be was an
but what he gagged to be. 

~

creelf ~- N

He did not intend to abandon the valuable; , c‘
and when he had walked around the square, or ‘_

 

    

  
 

,.
i
s

A;
V.
v,
.

 

“dz-V  ._ ,.._.t vv, .-h ‘|

. Singer Sam. the Pilgrim DeteCtive.

 

 

sufficiently far to convince himself that he was
unsuspected, he turned slowly about as if he had
forgotten something and made his way toward
the kitchen.

He remained unmolested; and, when safe
Within the shadow of the tree, he lost no time
in unearthing the bags there buried. He could
not carry half the things; but he took the
diamonds and the most valuable of the smaller
articles, and again left the house, jubilant over
his success.

He had no regard for the feelings of the cracks-
man, and cured as little for those of the madame.
He argued, and very reasonably, that they
would have served him in the same way.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
IN HYSTERICAL MOOD.

MADAME MURIEL, garbed as a man, made
her way to the front entrance, some minutes
after the departure of Baumgard, and looked
out on the apparently deserted street. One of the
police spies was standing only a. few feet away;
and when she saw him she drew back and crept
softly up the stairs.

The time for flight had come! In conference
with the major, it had been decided they should
leave the house separately, to attract less at-
tention, she to go first. This she was now en-
deavoring to do. ,

She stood for a while irresolute, after climb-
ing the stairs; then she descended to the kitchen.
She could not resist the feeling, as she opened
the door, that Laura was there. She knew it
was only a fancy, but it was only dispelled when
she had entered the room and observed its cheer-
less look of discomfort.

The kitchen door she unlocked, and she let
herself into the little back yard where Baum-
gard had been but a few moments before.

Callin up her courage, she walked unconcern-
edly in t e direction of the gate, hoping to pass
without troubling the policeman who was sta-
tioned near it.

She failed. The officer had been warned by
Sin r Sam to stop every one whom he did
3 not now._ He thought he knew Cecil, and so

. ‘ had let the Jew go; but the madame was notal-

lowed to pass.

; :3 ,“ He did not recognize her; but said, firmly:

“ No on allowed to go by here, sir, who comes
from that house! Those are my orders, and I
 must enforce them i”
‘ The madame recoiled as if struck a blow.
She dare not speak to the man, forher voice
might betray her; and therefore all she could do
was to beat a confused retreat.

She was gasping for breath, when she regained
the kitchen door. She had so counted onher
ability to pass these sentinels, that this failure
was crushing.

f“ i. “ What shall we do?” was her mental wail, as
she looked blankly about.

She made her way into the kitchen and stag-

. gored up the stairway, intent on another talk
with the major. Perhaps his ready wit would
be able to suggest something!

Before she had regained the upper floor, she
was startled by a ring at the front door!

During the occurrence of these exciting
scenes, an important conference was under way
in the office of the young lawyer.

Henderson, Bass, and the detective, had come
there, shortly after CcCll left for Madame
Muriel’s establishment. This sending of Cecil
for the madame’s reply to Rescuinmmi’s oil’er,

a. .' had not been wholly pleasing to, Singer, Sim.

 , He had.doubted its wisdom and advisability,
" having for some time been convincei that the
woman really meant to do nothing except light
for time. ,

' Nevertheless, he had waived his objections;
and Roscommon had dispatched Cecil ouithe
_ perilous mission.

.‘ ~ For nearly an hour the four men sat in the
omce awaiting the boy’s' return.

' more and more anxious, as the slowly-moving
minutes went by. . All were feeling the tension

‘of the a preaching crisis. They knew that
very muc hinged on -the events of that night.
Either the madame and niajhr would accede to
the detective’s demands, or they would nttem t
to escape. In the last event, their arrest won d
speedily follow, with all' its sensatiohs and excit~

_ ,1 ' circhms‘tancos.

' uey tried to kill time by conversing on a
variety of subjects; always returning, however,
to the one uppermost in their minds.

 When the hour was almost spent, Singer
 ‘ Sam ,arose and announced his intention of

 

 

.sallygng forth todiscove’r what had become of
the 0y.

This movement was greeted with up roval by

~ ,, Henderson, who was fast becoming r uced to_a

f, , state of fri ht over the long delay. Roscom-

‘ , anon seems equally leased that a movement
was to be inaugurat .

, "lthlnk it best for one of us to enter the

,9 ‘ lhouse,” said the youn lawyer, as they hurried

down the street, " an as I was the one to send

., :the message I on lit to be the one for that work.

.I can in and c aim that, u the boy has not re-

. , turn I became anxious, and came personally

rite receive her answer. : v

, .. As this arrangement was satisfactorzgeho left

them when they wet-cysts block from build:

  

L

They grew ,

   

ing; and it was his ring at the door which had
so startled the madame.

“ The young man I sent here hasn’t returned
yet," he said, when she opened the door in an.
swer to the rin . “So I thought I would come
around inyselil’

He had been compelled to wait many niin~
utes; for the madame, before descending, had
doifed the male attire and re-robed herself in
her own clothing.

He could see that she did not want to admit
him, and this made him determined to enter.

“ I sent an answer to you by the young man,”
was her repl . “ You don’t mean to say he did
ndt bring it’i’

“ He did not return to the office, at any rate!”

She simulated surprise.

“That man there,” and she laughed hyster-
ically as she pointed to the policeman,gwho, in
his citizen’s dress, was half visible in the gloom
just beyond. “ He can tell you that the young
man left here some time ago, for I am sure that
he was standing there at the time!”

Roscommon was puzzled. Was the woman
lying to him, when she knew that a word with
the officer would reveal the falsehood?

He drew back hesitatingly, and she closed the
door and fled up the stairs.

The lawyer heard the light tread of her feet,
and was not sure he ought not to follow her.
But he turned toward the policeman for the
purposo of making inquiry.

The man substantiated the madame’s claim.
He had seen Cecil Marsden leave the house, he
said, at about the time stated.

“You are sure you cannot be mistaken?”
Roscommon questioned.

The officer was perfectly sure on that point.
He was familiar with Cecil Marsdeu’s appear-
ance, and was positive he had seen him leave
the house.

With his mind in a whirl, the law er hastened
back to confer with his friends. f Cecil had
left the house, of which there seemed not a
doubt, what had become of him?

This was an enigma which even Singer Sam
could not solve.

” There’s something wrong here,” was the lat-
ier’s comment, a troubled look on his face.
“ There is treachery somewhere, though 1 con-
fess l’m not able to put my finger on it. If the
boy left the house, something has happened to
him since leaving it. Otherwise, he would have
returned to the office.”

This was perfectly plain to all. ‘

" It may be,” starting as the thought came to
him, “ that the madame has been able to bribe
the man stationed at the door. If she has done
that, the chances are big that she is out of the
house before now. You say she didn’t appear
to want to see you? Perhaps she was getting
ready to leave, at that Very moment!”

“And if 80—” Henderson put in.

“If so, Cecil Marsden is yet in the house!”
\ Roscommon Was filled with disquiet. Not
even Henderson seemed more disturbed.

“I will go back to the housel”he declared.
“And while I am gone, will you make a search
for hiin‘i [He may have returned to the office;
or he may have been assaulted, and be new
lying semevthere in a ivy-street or alley i”

He did not wait for them toagree to this pro-
position, so great were his fears; and in a Very
short time he was back at the front door of the
house, pulling at the bell.

There was no response this time, and he began
' to think Singer Sam was right in his conjecture
? at least: that the madame had departed.

He turned sharply on the 8p , almost con-
] vinced the latter had yielded to t e influence of
the madame’s money.

“ Is there a way by which I can get into this
‘ hence?”

The man felt in the packet of his coat and
: produced a key.
“ This will unlock the door,” he said giving the
i liey to the eXcited' law er. “I tried it to see
i that it would fit, when first came here.”

This did not seem the act of a guilty man, a
thing which was noted by Roscommonl

The latter looked steadily at the officer for a
moment; then walked to the door and applied
the key to the lock.

The fit was perfect and he had no difficulty in
Opening the door. 9 pocketed the key, and
trumped up the stairwiiy in search of some one,
of the occupants of the house. If Madame
Muriel was there, he meant to see her. ‘

The madame was there and, when she heard
the heavy tread on the stairs, she came out of
the seclusion of her den to ascertain its mean-
ing. ' She was dismayed to behold the face of

mmon. She had intended to exolude him

and his friends until she could formulate some
other plan of escape that might promise a he
of success. She was deep in this plan when 0
ap aired before her.

he Italrway’ had been dark, and the rooms
occupied by the madame were only faint]
lighted; yet Roscommon could see how p50
and distracted was her appearance. She id
not seem the same woman that she was a few
dag: before.

he laughed a little hysterically. ‘ >
“,.Ioeeitisnonsetotrytoharvou out. Well,
 in. no the ‘I'vesent an

 

  

 

is. , t 

    

. “mi

 

answer by the boy, as I told you. Perhaps you
received it awhile ago. I have concluded to
change it; and this new answer I was writing!"

Her words disclosed that she was on the verge
of hysterics. There was in them a suggestion of
both laughter and tears.

She invited him to a seat, and then held out a
sheet of paper on which she had been writing.

Rescoiiimon, shrewd as he was, was no match
for this subtle woman. She had known he
would return, and had prepared for his recep-
tion. This bit of writing was a part of the
preparation. It was another stroke to gain
time—to postpone the last, fatal, final hour.

“Read it!” she commanded. “It is in con-
fession. You didn’t let me finish it! f you
had done that, I should have produced some-l
thing worth your while!”

Her spirits were unnaturally volatile.

Roscommen glanced over the writing which
she had denominated a portion of her “con-
fession.” It did indeed seem to be that.

There was not a great deal of it, the most im-
portant thing being a statement that she meant
to cast Major Dinsmore aside and look out for
her ersonal safety.

“ f you had only permitted me to finish it!”
laughing airily, when she saw he had reached
this point in the reading. “ I Will finish it
verbally. Not all I intended to say there, but
enough to show you I am in earnest. I know I
cannot get out of this house. We can’t pay the
money demanded by: Mr. Benton. The result
will be exposure, imprisonment and ruin! _

“Now, why should I fall with the majori I
havo no great reason to remain true to him!
Should Ido so, we must both suffer together!
And thinking over that, brought me to this con-
fession. ‘ /

“Now, Mr. Roscommon, if you will pledge
me that I may go free, I will write out a con-
feesion cowring eVery point of which you are
anxious to know; and have it ready for you in
the morning.”

{oscominon stared at'her. Was the woman
in earnest? Would she prove untrue to this
man, her companion in crime for so many
years? . _

A laugh that was so deCidedly hysterical greet-
ed this look, that Roscommon shuddered.

“You don’t believe it? It is the way of the
world, Mr. Rescommon; and I am of the Worldl
l have never claimed to be a saint, as you ought
to know!” \

“ But about Cecil Marsdeiif” the lawyer
queried, tearing himself from this subject. “I
am more anxious about his safety, just new,
than about anything else. If you will tell me
where he is, Madame Muriel, it will be worth
much more to me than even this confession.”

Again that hollow, hysterical laughter echoed
through the room, and again Roscommon shiv-
ered and recoiled.

“ It’s very strange, Mr. Roscommon, that you
will not believe me, when I tell you he left the
house taking with him my answer to your let-
ter. If you think he is still here, you’re at lib-
erty to look for him. But he isn’t here! I
couldn’t afford to deceive you; for, if I did_, the
confession I propose to make would not be likely
to help me any. He left here, and went into the
street; and .if you hope to find him, you Will
have to look for him there !"

Roscommon knew not what to do or say. He
felt that it would he uncles; to make a search of
the house. Besides, the policeman—whom he

was new inclined to think truthful—had also ‘

stated that Cecil had gone away frOm the place.

“Write out your confession,” he said, rising
to depart. “ If it accomplishes anything to our
purpose, I will do what I can to help you. This
is all I can agree tol"

With this declaration he hastened from the 

room, his mind in a condition of complete bewil-
derment. 1 -

And when he was once more beyond earshot,
the madame laughed louder and more hysterical-
ly than ever.

 

CHAPTER XXXIX.
SINGER sam‘s CAPTURE.

SINGER SAM and his associates were, not idle
during Roscommon's absence. They. called to
their aid several members of the lice force,
and made a theme h search of al the streets
and alloys in the vic nity. This occupied time,
and the search was not ended when the young
lawiyer left Madame Muriel’s. V,

S uger Sam separated from the others and ex-
tended his search further up-town, drawing near
to the place where he had been in the habit
nightly of setting up his torch.

There Were a number of persons gathered on
the corners in the near Vicmity. who were wait-
ing and wondering why the medicine-vendor did
not make his appearance. . ,

This point was'almost on a line running from
the madame’s establishment to Baunigard’s
pawn-shop; and as the detective turned back,
after a distant survey of the waitigg people, he
saw a slight form slip from the oh 0
into these of another.

 

form drew his quick attention He had ro- y
caught sight of
hunchback. \ , u

4,

slinklng manner and a peculiarity of the

. .

ws of/ome '

 

 

 

 

Mia-«wax»  ~.

      
    

the Jew in the the ‘ ‘I "

 

 

 

 

   

 

Singer Sam, the Pilgrim

, .-

 

 

Singer Sam started, almost willin todoubt
the evidence of his eyes. He coul not think
that Cecil Marsder. would have cause for slip-
ping about in that stealthy manner. And yet
the form had looked like Cecil’s.

He ran rapidly toward the alleys, hoping to
get another view.

Baumgard had halted in the second alley for
the purpose of spying out the- route ahead; and
was stooping, in a crouching attitude, when the
sounds of the detective’s steps fell on his ears.

Having been expecting a pursuit, this threw
him into a panic; and, Without looking around
to see who the pursuer was, he leaped up and
fled along the alley like a frightened deer.

Singer Sam knew that here was something
wrong. He had a good view of the fleeing man.
The‘resemblance to Cecil Marsden was remark-
able. But Marsden would not run in that man-
ner.

A suspicion of the truth—but a dim suspicion,
at first—came to him.

He blew shrilly on his whistle; and leaped for-
ward in chase.

The vibrating blast of this police call smote
the Jew with terror. He knew he had been dis-
covered, and that, if he continued on to the
street, he would be hemmed in and taken.
Hence, at the first chance, he turned aside to
seek refuge in another direction.

There were some half-deserted ware-rooms
here, among them some open houses used for the
store. 0 of lumber. Into one of these he scram-
bled, hinking to evade pursuit fora time by
concealing himself between the tall stacks of

boards.

He might have succeeded in this had the
detective not been so close at his heels. But
Singer Sam saw him when he turned in here.
He knew, too, exactly what the frightened man

hoped to do.

nstead of following closely at the Jew’s heels,

he stopped at a point where the building would

be in full view, and awaited the coming of the

gifioers, whose pattering feet could already be
card. '

Baumgard interpreted this movement as an
indication that his pursuer was OK the scent; and
was disposed _to congratulate himself, as he
squeezed into a narr0w opening. He rested here
for an instant, and then .burrowed deeper for
greater security.

The police came up at a rapid run; and the
detective speedly informed them of why he had
sounded the call, and of the present location of
the fugitive.

The men spread out, and quickly surrounded
the lumber building.

When this had been satisfactorily accomplish-
ed, Singer Sam entered the place for the purpose
of routing the pursued,very much as a dog might

enter a covert to flush game.

Hearing the detective near him, Baumgard
squeezed out at the other end of the opening
and darted for the alle . Singer Sam saw him
and plunged wildly a ter. The Jew ,was also
seen by two members of the force. Thus
hemmed in, he gave a frightened cry, and again
changed his direction. But it was too late. He
was speedily overhauled, and brought into sub-
mission by a threatened clubbing.

The detective dragged him to the nearest
li ht.

“ Ha! ha!” he exclaimed, when the Jew’s
features were revealed. “ I had a strong notion
that it was you. You wore my bracelets once!
Now you can wear them again! And I fancy
you won’t et rid of these so easily!" ‘

Suiting t 3 action to the words, he snapped
the irons about the wrists of the prisoner.

Baumgard was trembling so he could hardly
speak, as the detective proceeded to question
him. »

“ You came from Madame Muriel’sl Is it not
so! .8 k up, or it may be worse for you i"

The ew was so frightened that be readily
confessed to the'truth.

These questions were followed by others quite
as inted. / ~ ‘

aumgard, fearing he had made a mistake,
refused to answer.

“ Search him!” was the stern command,

“ Achl Mine gootness, no!” the words drawn
from him by reason of his fears of losing the
diamonds. “ So hellup me, I but not ings
apowet me!” ,

This was all the proof needed to convince his
hearers that he had good reasons for wishin to
avoid asearch;and they therefore subjected 1m
to one that was most thorough.

The diamonds were found, with the other
valuables he had secreted on his persOn.

“ Now, you will tell me what you are doing in
that rig, and all about yourself, or I’ll know
the reason why!” 

As he said t ll, be thrust a pistol into Baum-
gard’s face, com leting the Jew’s terror.

“ You will tel me, win you not, what I want
'toknow? What are you doing here in these
 . a...

e ew could no 1‘ uiries so stron ly
hacked. He broke down. turdqwhimpered likg a
wblpped cur. assuring them that if they would
only spore him he would confess to all he knew.
, And this he did; telling how he had “an

" , concealed with Tinchman in Haemagnuriei’s

 

.erable modification in his tones.

  

 

tective. .

29'

 

 

house, and how he had made his escape there-
from.

“ And what about Cecil Marsden ?”

Of Cecil the Jew denied all kn0wledge.

Finding that nothing further could be ex—,
tracted from him, Singer Sam turned the pi'is- ;
oner over to one of the officers, gave the valu- 1
ables to another—by wrzom they were to be!
held temporarily for safekeeping—and then i
hastened back toward the madame’s, sure that I
Cecil Marsden had fallen a victim to some
act of treachery.

CHAPTER XL.
rmcnmaa‘s TIRROR.

To return to ’l‘obe Tinchman.

He did not suspect that Madame Muriel was
speaking falsely when she called the Jew from
the room, and for a l0ng time :remained in sub-
lime ignorance of her duplicity. .

Before her coming, he and Baumgard had
been discussing what their chances of getting
away that night might be. They had resolved
to wait until nearly morning before making a
movement.

And so Tinchman, in blissful ignorance that
his companion had already departed from the
house, sat in his comfortable chair in the little
back room and peacefully smoked his pipe.

By this it is not meant that he was contented
or wholly at ease. None knew better than be
what manner of danger lay about him; but, as
the time for action had not come, he tried to fill
the period of waiting with as much comfort as
he could.

As minute after minute passed, however, and
these linked themselves into an hour,he could
not further control his unéhsiness. He could not
understand why the madame should wish to
cougar for so great a while with Israel Baum-
gar .

When he could stand the suspense no longer,
be knocked the ashes from his pipe, and went in
search of the madame.

He found her shivaring and moanin in the
privacy of her den. Roscommon had on y a few
moments before departed.

“ What’s become of that infernal Jew?” the
cracksman growled, presenting himself befo
her in no very amiable mood. '

The madame looked up at him with hot and
tearless eyes. Tinchman drew back, as he
glanced into their blazing depths. The madame

ad so much the appearance of a madwoman,
at that moment, that he L88 half frightened.

“ Where is Baumgard i” be repeated, aconsid-

“ I don’t know where he is, and I don’t carol”
was the wrathful answer. “ Why do on come
here bothering me about him? aven’t I
enough aflairs of my own to look after? Go and
hunt himl”

“But you called him away!” Tinchman de-
clared, not to be beaten in thismanner. “He
hain’t come back sence you‘ called him out,
an’ that was more’n an hour ago!” .

“ Go and hunt him l” said the madame coldly. A
“ I’m not his owner. If he didn’t come back to
you, that‘s his fault and not mine. You ought
to have tagged him, so that you would have no
trouble in putting your hand on him!”

“ See hyer, Madame Muriel l” and the cracks-‘
man’s face flamed. “ This hain’t no time fer
nonsense, this hain’tl I want to know where
that Jew is. If he hain’t in this house, you know
what's become of him i”

The madame laughed at him as she had at,
lI’Eosctommon —— that hysterical, blood-chilling

ug I

“ vaant to know what you have done with
himl" drawing ck. yet resolved to maintain
his and. “I he’s gone out of this house,
M ame Muriel, you know it l” '

“ What are you teasing me for, then, if yon
know I know it? I suppose he has one out of
the house! 01 course he did, if s got the
chance; and it may be that he got the chance.
It’s not going to be so easy. though, for you or
me to get out. I tried it a little while ago, and
I ought to know i" A v

Tinchman saw that in this last statement she
was in earnest, and a feeling of fear took pos-
session of him. He saw. too that Madame
Muriel had no further use for him, now that she
could no longer maize him valuable to her; and
cared little what became of him.

“That’s all right!” turning an rily away.
“If you wanttogo back on a f ler at this
ate 9 of the game, you can do it] reckon! But,
her you! if i’m took. there’li {liker beothers
that’ll bavea close call l”

Her onl answer was another chilling laugh.

On leav ng her, Tinchman’s first act was to
makeas thorough a search as‘ possible of the
house, or rather those rooms which he was able

to enter. To his’ surprise the place seemed
whotly deserted. '
E descended into the kitchen, and from

thence peered out into the yard. 'Theofiicer was
still on duty. He was almost afraid to venture
out, but his desire to see if the treasure was mu
concealed beneath the tree was strong on him-
He crept down the steps and over the ground

‘ He believed there wasa hidden wa

      

 

until the tree 'was reached. It required only a
glance to show that Baumgard had beentbars
ore him. The earth, win upbeaved',  _

of the valuables as Baumgard could not take
were lying beside the cavity.

Tinchman was furious: and in an] hnrous
whispers proceeded to anathematize the ow and
the Woman.

He secured what remained of the valuables,
and stole softly back to the house. He deposited
them in the corner of the kitchen, concealing
them beneath some papers, and then again visit-
ed Madame Muriel.

“ You helped that scamp to git out’ o’ hyer!”
he asserted, suddenly facing her.

She seemed not to have moved from her posi-
tion since his departure.

“ I did!” she confessed, with rare frankness.
“I have helped you at other times, and I helped
him. What of it? If you’re tired of my service,
go out and give yourself to those wolves!”

She pointed toward the window to indicate
that she meant the police.

Tinchman began to curse her bitterly; but she
only laughed at him; and he again left her.

e was n0w becoming greatly terrified. He
saw that because of inability or lack of desire
she did not intend to aid him. He knew that
very possibly she was not able to aid herself.
But he could not for ive her for this deception,
and for helping the ew to leave the house.

Plans for getting away thronged quickly
through his mind, but they were as quickly aban-
doned as impracticable.

As much as Tinchman knew of the secrets of
Madame Muriel and Major Dinsmore, be had
never been received fully into their confidence.
by which
one mi ht get out of the house; and e reasoned
that w en they got ready, she and the major
would go by that route, and leave him to look
out for himself. He resolved, therefore, to make
a uiet search for this outlet.

6 returned to his room and got the lam for
that purpose. Then he made his way stea thily
to the kitchen, keeping to the corridor that he
mi ht not be detected by the madame.

ere was a trap-door in the kitchen by which
one could gain access to the basement door with-
out passing through the yard. He lifted this
trap-door; and, as he did so, withdrew precipi-
tately. Strange and frightening sounds had
reached him.

“ What’s that?” he asked himself, peering into
the hole.

Again the sounds came, wailineg 'and sob--
bingly. They were made by the imprisoned in-
mates of the basement.

CHAPTER XLI.
a WAY our.

CncrL MABSDEN and Laura Dutton had never
endured a more terrifying time. Both were-
timid; and, when they found they could notes-
cape, they crouched helplessly in the gloom, al-
mOst giving themselves over to despair.

When they became more accustomed to the
darkness, and could see about them without
great dimculty, their hopes arose slightly, and
they ventured to make another round of the
basement. It yielded nothing, except a fresh
fright when some rats scampered from a dark
corner.

The horrors of the place rew on them more
and more; and they could a ready foresee their
doom. oIt was to remain there until they per.
ished of starvation, when their bodies won d be-
come a prey to the routed rodents. More rats
appeared, as the prosecuted their search; and
they retreated a most hysterically to the point
from which the had started.

Cecil recall how the detective had been
spirited from that house; and thoughts of the
great danger to which be had been subjected

id not tend to restore his own nanimity.

Thinking of this, however, 1 him to ry the
door again.
{stained to the companionship of Laura Dut-

h.

.To occupy themselves and in a measure we
tain their courage, t ey trsmped aimlessly
about. The dampness of the lace had begun to
chill them, and it required t. 3 physical exercise
to keep them from succumbing to its influence.

They convened much of their friends, when
ti: ey believed to be then hunting vainly forthem.
They could not doubt but that a raid would be
made on the house, and they calculated the
chances of bein found at that time. There
was distraction n these thoughts, ‘if nothing
else. By means of them they were better en—
abled to endure the slow passage of time,

Suddenly Laura Dutton started.

Did you not hear that?” she asked, leaping
to her feet and looking anxiously at Cecil. .

Cecil had heard nothin ; but he also arose,

and together they stood latching for a repe-

 

v

tition of the noise which had attracted her at- '

tention.

It came again, from the direction of the
kitchen; and was made by Tobe Tinchman,
who was at that moment approaching the trap-

They clutched each other for support, as their 1 i‘ ‘

heads whirled with this new hope.
“ The raid is being

    

He could not shake it; and he,

made!" Cecil exclaimed. '
,“I feel snreof it. That’s some of our friends.
hunting for us!" " , ' _
1, He ran toward the barred door,'closely 

 

 

...........-,.......... a.--. v‘....r..._.,..._, a

.9... ‘- ._..-

 

 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
   
  

. into the

' of it, he was not di

"him to
I ,' it; and again halted in the kitchen to consider

‘30

I Singer Sam, the Pilgrim Detective.

 

 

lowed by Laura; and, standing near it, they
shouted together with all the strength of their
lungS.

The trap-door was lifted, and a ray of light
from Tinchman’s lamp penetrated to the in-
terior of the basement through a crack inthe
door.

They felt they could not be mistaken now;
and screaming and laughing together they again
sent up their calls, beating on the door with
their hands.

These Were the sounds which had so frightened
Tinchman and caused him to draw back.

He set down the lamp, with an oath, and bent
forward to catch the meaning of these strange
noises. He was superstitious, and his first in-
clination was to retreat from the place without
delay. But he recor'isidered, and again bent his
head in a listening attitude.

“If that haiu’t Laura Dutton a-yellin’ there
like all possessed, then I’m fooled l” was his
mental ejaculation. “I wonder, now, if the
madame has shot her up in there? ’Twould be
jest like her to do sech a trick l”

He would have advanced straight to the base-
ment door, had not Cecil’s voice also reached
him.
in the basement,a fact which greatly puzzled

- him.

At the same time it aroused his curiosity,
.and be resolved to see what it meant. He had
not given up the idea that there was some way
of escape opening from this basement. Hence,
he again lifted the lamp and descended the steps.
He expected to find the door locked; but he had
a large number of keys which he made use of in
his various burglarious enterprises, and one of
these sewed his purpose.

Cecil and Laura had not for a moment ceased
their calls; fearing that after all their friends
might not hear them, and thus they should be
left to their fate. But they were reassured when
Tinchman descended the stairway.

Th wept hysterically, as t ey heard him
fumbl ng at the lock, and shouted again in the
very boisterousness of their joy. But when the
door flow 0 n, they were doomed to disap-
pointment. hey saw not one of their friends,
but the cracksman, whom they feared. They
felt certain he had not come to their assistance
withany kindly intentions, but rather that he
.had been sent there by the madame to subject
them to still further indignities.

Now that the way to iberty soomedto lie so
plain before them, they made a simultaneous
rush for the opening; and, in doing so, tripped
the cracksman. The lamp felled from his hand
with a crash; and, as the oil red out, it
caught from the flame cf the wick, and blazed
up with a furious roar,” thastrong draught
caught it.

CHAPTER XLlI.
BEMMED IN.

Tons TINCHHAN gave vent to his an r
in an ill-tempered snarl. But the thing ad
{been done and could not be undone. It was like
.Humpty-Dumpty, the egg of the famous puzzle,
which sat on a wall and got a great fall.

“.Not all the king‘s horses, nor all the king‘s men,
Gould put Humpty-Dumpty together again!”

The lamp had been broken, the oil was flam-
ing and a confiagration seemed imminent.

Tinchman looked at the burning fluid, and at
the flyin causes of the accident; then darted

meat. He felt that if he found the
caning which he believed wou d lead him to
ii rty, he had no time 1701088.

He made a running search of the place, stop-
ping for a moment near the coal-hole to con-
sider the chances of getting out that wa . He
believed he could do it, by opening the our to
the bin and removing enough coal to permit of
an approach to the Opening. But that would
take a great deal of time, and he had no time to

spare.

He made the round of the basement, but found
no wayvout; and returned to the stairway by
which he had entered.

The flames were mounting furiously, a portion

of the stairwa bein already eaten through;
and he saw t un a fire-alarm could be
turned in and prompt measures taken, the house
was destined to destruction.
“ Let ’er burn!” he qowled, in a savage tem-
per. “ Let ’er burui don’t owe the madame
any good-will; an’ I couldn’t stop the ey
thing if I wanted to. It’ll brin down 0 re
Department, an’ mobbe that‘ll ve me a chance
tor slide!”

0n the whole, after he had had time to think
sposed to quarrel with what
he had been deemin a piece of ill-luck. This
accidental starting 0 the fire mi ht be he rea-
soned, the best thing that could ve fallen

him. ,
, “ Let’em look out for themselves ” thinking
of Dinsmore and the madame. “ She tole me
to look out for myself; an' you bet that’s what
I’m arguin’ to do!

It was not the easiest thing in the world for
pass up the stairway now. But he did

This assured him that two persons were.

the proper course to pursue in view of this new
element in his calculations.

“ I’ll git as near to the outside as I can! Then,
when the firemen bu’st in the doors, I’ll make a
run for itl"

He had not forgotten the valuables concealed
in the corner of the kitchen. He took up the
bags containing these, closed the door leading
to the basement to keep the light of the fire
from reaching and betraying him, and then
crouched in the darkness to await the moment
for action.

Laura Dutton and Cecil Marsden had fled by
Tinchman in breathless haste; and, as soon as
the kitchen was gained, had hurried toward the
door leading from it to the outer world. They
found the door locked- Tinchman had locked it
to increase his own safety.

They were panic-stricken. Believing they
would be instantly pursued by him, they fled
wildly up the stairway.

They alted again when they reached the
upper corridor.

“ We ought to go to the madame and tell her
of the fire!" Laura whispered, her humanity
overcoming her repu nance and fear.

“Do you knoww ere she is? Perhaps if we
tell her, she will let us out!”

With this purpose in view, they were turning
toward the madame’s rooms, when they were
frightened by the appearance of the negro.

They rccoiled; and again retreated toward the
kitchen. They were afraid of Tinchman but
they were m<~re afraid of the black. They knew
not what to do; but thought if they could again
reach the kitchen door before Tinchman came
out of the basement, they mi htmake themselves
heard by the pic on the 3 rest.

They foun however, when too late, that
Tinchman had already returned from the base-
ment. He had closed the trap-door, and was
crouching in the gloom. Their first knowledge
gglhis presence, was a command for them to

I.

He got up from the floor at the same time, and
presented what they believed to be a pistol at
their heads.

“You two have been rampin’ over the house
jist enoughl”and be enforced the statement with
a bitter oath. “ You’ve set the house aflre, an’
I don’t knew what other meanness you bain’t
done. Now, you two stand ri ht there, or
set right there, I don’t hear whi hl But you
hain’t a-fioin' out of this kitchen ag’inl If you
try it, it i be the wuss far you i”

His (one was so imperious that they dared not
disobey, ially as it was backed by that
menacing pfitol; and so they crouched shivering-
l y together, fearing to make a movement or ut-
ter a word. ‘

Tinchman had his own reasons for thus hold-
ing them. His uneasiness was constantly in-
creasin , and his desperation was increasing in
like re 0. It occurred to him that when the su-
preme moment came he might be able to make
use of Cecil and the girl to shield himself. If he
could do nothing else, he could push them out in
front of him when the door opened, and thus
protect himself from the shots of the police. He
resolved he would not be taken.

CHAPTER XLIII.
AT THE WINDOW.

As Singer Sam hurried back, after the capture
of the Jew, he knew that Madame Muriel had
falsified, and that the policeman was mistaken
in saying that Cecil Marsden had departed from
the house. The one who had departed had been
Baumgard, disguised to represent the bunch-
back. What had become of Cecil? This was a
question he could not answer, and which sorely
tried him.

He was 10th to communicate to his com-

ions the of the Jew. But this was a
necessary thing; ' and he did it as speedily as
possible.

The effect on Henderson was most distressing
to witness. His heart seemed to break, and the
most direful fancies to run riot in his
troubled mind, as he thought of Cecil’s probable
fate. He also thought of Laura, and wondered
' what ill had befallen her- and be accused himself
cause-lesst and merciless for permitting her to
remain so long at the ma ame’s.

It was plain to all of them that they had de-
layed too long in the raid on the house.

‘ We will not :3th here longer!” the detective
declared, volcin , genera wish. “ We will
force our way to the buildin , and see what
we can discover there. We find out what
has become of Cecil, if we have to apply torture
to Madame Muriel and Major Diusmore to ac-
complish iti”

mmon was no less excited and wrought
up; and accordingly an advance on the house
was immediate] commenced.

They a proac ed it by way of the front. Not
a light geamed anywhere within the building.
All. was dark, gloomy and forbidding; and, to
their anxious minds, prophetic of iii.

A number of vigorous rings at the bell failed
to arouse any one, and Singer Sam applied to

 

the door the poii‘csman’s club with which hebad
provnlsd himse The result was the same. No

,Ia'

     

)r

one appeared to open the door, and they began
to fear for the worst.

“ Fellers, I smell fire 1”

Jim Bass thrust his nose into the air, and
sniffed like a dog scentin game.

Now that their attention was directed to it,
the others also became aware of the pervading
odor of smoke.

They could not at first locate it. but the im-
pression grew on them that it emanated from
the house.

Without previous warning, the flames burst
into view at that moment, becoming visible
through one of the windows. They had eaten
upward from the basement through the floor,
and ware now spreading at a terrific and alarm-
ing rate, there being nothing to impede their
progress. Those on the street saw that within a
very few moments the entire building would be
on fire.

At the detective’s call, the policeman came
forward with the key to the door. But before it
could be applied, a series of startled cries from
overhead drew their attention and diverted them
from their present purpose.

They ran further out into the street to ascer-
tain the meaning of these cries; and by the aid
of an adjacent lamp ware able to see, at one of
the upper windows, the faces and forms of Cecil
Marsden and Laura Dutton. These two were
screaming frantically, and looking appealineg
into the street.

They had been held for some time in the
kitchen by Tobe Tinchman; but an unguarded
movement on Tinchman’s rt had revealed to
them that the supposed pistol with which he
was threatenin them was only a stick; and they
had fled with a lspeed from his presence. The
cracksman had had a weapon, but he had mis-
laid it that night, and it was not now in his pos-
session.

Cecil and Laura could already feel the heat of
the fire on the floor beneath their feet. Tinch-
man kept them from trying to get out by the
kitchen doc; and so there was nothing for them
to do but to retreat to the upper apartments.
They knew that the fire wou soon have the
entire building in its grasp.

Again prompted by fee ings of humanity they
sought for the madame, intending to warn her
of this new danger. They could not find her.
The rooms she usually occupied were locked, and
thus the way to the front entrance was cut off.

Overpowered by the terrors of their situation,
they hastened as swiftly as they could to the
third floor. Here they succeeded in forcin up
one of the windows; and now they were loo ing
down into the street, and calling wildly to the
little group of men they beheld there.

Without any command, Jim Bass flew across
the street and turned in an alarm of fire.

All of them saw however, that before help
could come from the’Fire De rtment, the flames
would eopardize the lives 0 these friends.

Hen erson and Roscommon were the first to
rush into the building, and they directed their
endeavors to the rcscus of Cecil and Laura. The
fire was breaking throu h into the rooms on
the second floor when t ey reached the top of
the stairway. dreat tongues of flame licked up-
ward, and catching in the many hangings of the
rooms quickly transformed the interiors into a
mass of surgin and fiery wavss throu h which
it Was difficult or the men to make the r way.

Singer Sam was delayed for a moment at the
street door, and so he bounded up the stair-
way, the two who had preceded him had van-
ished beyond the flaming barriers.

An exclamation from the direction of the kit-
chen drew his attention thithe r, and convinced
him that some of the inmates of the house were
trying tOescape. Believing that Henderson and
RoscOmmon would be able to accomplish the
rescue of their friends, be bounded down the
stairway, which was already intolerably hot
and filled with smoke.

Before Tinchman was aware of it, the detec-
tive had penetrated his place 0f concealment.
The cracksman stood at bay; and, when Singer
Sam rushed upon him, grappled with him in a
des rats struggle.

he beat wit in the kitchen was almost un-
bearable. Tinchman had only endured it so
long because he expected that every moment
would bring the firemen. He had been about to
take the desperate chance of darting from the
house and striving to pass the police spy, when
the detective s rung down the stairway.

“ Take that? will ya?” Tinchman ejaculated,
aiming a furious blow.

This was deftl avoided; and as they clinched,
they fell to the cor and rolled over and over in
struggling confusion. Singer Sam had in his
hand only his police club, andthis he was pre-
vented from using by the rapidity of Tinchman’s
movements. The cracksman was trying to get
at a knife which was in onset his pockets.

The detective discovered the motive of these
frantic efforts in time to prevent theconsumma-
tion of Tinchman’s wish.

They were almost equal] matched in strength
and agility; and if the fig 1: had been fought to
a finish what its outcome might have been can-
not be told.

 

a" . y _,
‘szd'..s.:€::r-”;'->i; cadrwtn w» 1-.  Z v," " l. .

It was interrupted by the coming of Jim
Bass. '

 

cm a... .r'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

The cowboy had followed closely in the ‘de—
‘tective’s heels—so closely that he beheld him de-
viate from his course and leap down the kitchen
stairway.

Bass had hesitated for a moment, not knowing
whether to follo\v the detective or continue on
toward those upper rooms where Cecil and
Laura were known to be and to which it was
reasonably Certain Henderson and Rosconimon
mid ascended But the sounds of the struggle
in the kitchen reached him and decided him as
LU his course.

“Hi, there!" he yelled, dancing about the
combatants. " Hold still there a minute, you
two fellers, till I can tell t’other fruni which!
I’ve got it in fer one 0’ you, an’ I’ll perceed to
do him up ist as soon as “find out which it is.
BL. there! old on!”

They did not “hi, there!‘ neither did they
“hold on.” It is doubtful if either compre-
hended a word of Bass’s talk. They were fight-
ing with fierce dotsperation, each too anxious to
get the better of s foe to pay any heed to these
ones.

The cowboy caught Tinchman by a leg and
pulled with al his strength. The aid thus given
Singer Sam permitted the latter to turn the tide
of battle, and he got the fingers of his muscu-
lar right hand about the cracksman's throat.

That was the beginning of the end of the
fight. Within a Very few moments Tinchman
was choked into due subjection: and within a
veiiy few more he had the hated handcuffs on his
wr sts.

“Hooray! Cock-a-doodle-dooo—oo!” crowed
the irrepressible Bass, when this had been ac-
complished. “I say, we’ll have that in the pa-
pers to-morrer! That was a fight wu’th speakin’
of! One 0‘ the kind 0' fights you read about!”

_ “ We’ll not be able to read the papers, though,
if we don’t get out of here in short order!” said
the detective, pointing to the flames, which were
now bursting throu h the kitchen floor onlya
few feet away. “I? we don’t get out of here,
we’ll be hemmed in and in a very little while!”

Tinchman was lying on the floor, glarin at
them with a vindictiveness seldom paralle ed.
He was furious with impotent rage, and if his
looks did not belie him, he was almost wishing
at that moment that the fire might consume
these enemies, even if in so doing it licked up
his heart’s blood as well.

Singer Sam saw this look of deadliest bate,
but paid no attention to it. He could afford to

Zbe lenient to a fallen foe. And just then, he
had something of more importance to occupy
his attention. Bass, in his exultation of spirits,
had almost forgotten the peril they were in
from the fire. Now. as the detective pointed it
out, his florid face poled.

The flames were roaring betwsen them and
the stairway, and between them and the outer

door.

“We’ll have to make a dash for it!” Sin er
Sam said, with (“not determination. “ e’ll
not gain anything y standing here!”

He pointed to Tinchman who had also been
ornamented with anklets of iron, and who was
corresponding] helpless.

“ Lay hold 0 him! I don't intend he shall get
away, at any rate.”

As he gave the command, he seized a strip of
the kitchen carpet.

“The very thing! This will make us fire-
proof l’ .

Bass flew to his assistance, and the carpet was
dragged from the floor.

'They wrapped this around them as a protec-
tion, also swathing the cracksman in it; and
then_they seized him by shoulders and heels, and,
hearing him thus, made a rush for the stair-

Wfl .

_ They passed through the flames without receiv-
ing so much as a burn: and vs shortly had
their prisoner safe in the street an in the hands
of the police. Nor were the bags of treasure left
behind. They had been light and portable, and
had been borne with ease.

Meanwhile Tom Henderson and Paul Ros-
common had not been idle. They had found
Coed Marsden and Laura Dutt0n flame-girdled
in the u per room. The corridor through which
they be topass to reach them was filled with
smoke and fire. Through this the rushed with
worthy recklessness, finding Cool and the girl
still at the Window.

Henderson and Roscommon had had much
trouble in making their. Way throu h the rooms
of the second floor. because of the mound we
looked doors. Two of these the had unlocked
and one they had smashed in, enderson having
done this by hurling his tremendous weight
against it.

The two within the room uttered cries of do.
light, when they beheld their friends; but these
changed to anxiety and even to pity when
they 33" their 800mm and blistered appear-
ance. Beard‘J hair and 'clothing had been
singed, and t e white marks of same severe
burns were visible.

“It's amic'logularI hell back there!” Rosoom-
mon pan " ‘ pass
thfiughhit a sin!” I we m t

9 es the rush 0 the fire-en no in the
street low. and looked out of the w‘iindow. A
number of firemen were endeavoring to hoist a

  a, it. Pu...@....m

I
ladder, under the direction of Bass and the de- l

i tective. But though the ladder was spliced, it
I fell many feet short.

“ If we only had a rope!” and Henderson look-
ed wistfully about the room.

There was nothing of the kind there, but the
clothing on the bed suggested an idea. It was
quickly stripped off and placed on the floor.
Then the articles were torn into strips and
knotted together, and when this was done a. rope
had been fashioned of sufficient length and
strength to sustain the weight of one person.

By means of it Cecil was lowared; and, when
he had reached the ladder, the rope was drawn
up and Laura was let down in the same way.
Roscommon was next, the rope being steadied
by the strong hands of the miner; and wbtn all
three stood in security on the ground, Tom
Henderson lowered himself from the window
haud-over~hand.

CHAPTER XLIV.
A TRAGIC SIGHT.

WHAT had become of Madame Muriel and
Major Dinsmorei

This was the question which now agitated the
breasts of Singer Sam and his friends. In their

ssage through the house they had seen neither.

rue, they had not entered all of the rooms, nor
had they entered the room which the reader has
known as Madame Muriel’s “den.”

They turned to Tobe Tincbman for an an-
swer.

“ They’re up there some’eresl” Tinchman de-
clared, secretly delighted with the hope that the
detective might be bafiied in securing them.

He had no regard-for the personal safety of
the madame and the major, but the detective’s
discomfiture was a thing to be desired.

Although Tinchman could not have been sure
of it, he was correct in stating they were still in
the house. They were there; and one of them
was destined not to leave it alive.

Madame Muriel was indetd on the verge of
insanity when she was visited by Tinchman
in his search for the Jew. Her failureto pass
the lice s y had drive her to desperation;
and his com ined with the tremendous ressure
on nerve and brain under which she be for so
many hours been laborin . was almost enough
to unseat her intellect. he was beginningto
believe that escape would be impossible.

Yet she did not entirely give up hope until
later. She again descended toward the street,
and looked out to see if there was any
relaxing of vigilance on the part of the s; ies.
There was something to encourage her: but,
after further delay she made another effort to
leave the house, this time lzswaly of the front
entrance. It failed as the t ad dine; and
then she gave herself up to fu and despair.

“Major!” she cried, return n to her room,
and from that point shouting to im. “ There’s
no use to try any more i”

In response to the call, the negro came for-
ward; and, when she saw him, she wept and
ion bed by turns, in frenzied abandon.

ere was some wine on the table, and she
filled two small glasses, her band shaking as
she ured out the iquid.

" ou couldn’t find any way out?” question-
ingly. “Ah! I thought not. But there’s one
wag out, major! they can’t close that against
us

She set the bottle down, and looked at him——
for this black was none other than Major
Dinsmore—with eyes which burned with incipi-
ent insanity. “No, major! there’s one route
thgy can’t c against us!”

he laughed again, and Dinsmore drew back.
The hollowness of that laugh told him that the
woman before him was mad. _

“What do you mean?” he asked, shivering,
in spite of himself.

“ Just what I said. major! One way is
always lopen! It is the way that leads to
death! Are you afraid to walk in it?”

“But we can surrender ourselves!” be ex-
claimed, as if desiringmto plead with her.
a“ They cannot do more t n imprison us!”

“Imprisonment! Noue of that for me!
{My major! I see you are inclined to be coward-
y .

She arose and roduced the white powder, a
portion of which a 9 had dropped into the Wine
oflered to Singer Sam.

“ Will you drink it with me?” holding it up
that he might see it. “ It will brin a sleep that
will know no waking. Dare you rink it with
me. maf'orl” . '

The ook of insanity was deepening in her

e as.
y“I will not!” he declared. “ Pm not such a
fool as to throw my life away in that manner.”

The laugh that issued from her lips ended in
a high, piercing shriek.

“Just one glassful, major! I say you shall
drink it!"' .

There was such deadly menace in the voice,
that he turned from her and started as it to
leave the room.

" Ha, ha, ha! You fear the fire do you not!
DO you hear it? Do you smell it? The house is
on fire, major! The kitchen and the basement
"6 in flames. and so are the lower rooms! Ha,
ha. ha! i welcome it! it cannot hurt the’life-

 

 

 

less fiesh! Better to be consumed than to lie in
the grave and become food for worms; or to lie
in a prison and rot! Don’t you think so,
major? Then drink this with me! Drink it,
and neither the fire nor our foes can harm us i”

It was the first intimation Dinsniore had had
that the building was on fire. The knowledge
was appalling.

“You are a fool!” he said. “ If the house is
afire, the sooner we surrender the better it “ill
be for us i”

A sWift change passed over her face.

He saw it, and turned to law the room, feel-
ing that argument and persuasion Would be
alike useless. But he had no sooner presented
to her his back than with a swift motion she
drew a revolver and fired: and he iell prone and
bleeding to the floor.

The powder was dashed down, as was the pis-
tol' and she rushed to him and bent tenderly
and lovingly over what she believed to be his
lifeless form.

” Forgive me, major! Forgive me! I had to
do it!”

The firemen broke into this room not many
minutes afterward, and they found the two
lying side by side on the superheated floor. The
major was seriously wounded and unconscious;
and the Woman was dead. He: features were
drawn and distorted, and there was about her a
strange, peachy odor, showing the use of that
speediest of all deadly drugs, prussic acid.

 

Six months later. there was a double-wedding
in Mineral Gap. The “ rookery,”as Toni eu-
derson had called his house, was ablaze with
light, and was filled with song and laughter and
merry-making. The happy rties whose for-
tunes were at that time jo nod for life, were
Paul Roscommon and Nellie Quindaro—the lat-
ter known to the reader throughout this story
as Cecil Marsden: and Tom Henderson (whose
name was not Henderson, at all, but Thomas
Quindaro) and Laura Dutton.

Thomas and Nellie . Quindaro bad by the
merest chance discovered that Major Dinsmore
and Madame Muriel were the ones to whom they
Owed their misfortunes. They had been in Min-
eral Ga not more than a month before the com-
ing of ilfred Benton, the detective, who had
been sent there by relatives of the Quindaros—
these relatives being partly instigated in their
efforts, no doubt, by a desire to share in the
money to be recovered.

The hunchback dis uise and the male attire
were adopted by No! ie to keep the madame and
the major from suspecting them before they had
accumulated evidence sumcient to establish their
claims; and this was, also, the reason for their
ado tion of false names.

T e double part played by Major Dinsmore
has already been seen. As a ne ro, he could
safely commit crimes which be con d not in his
own proper person—such deeds, for instance, as
the setting of the spring-gun and the attempt to
blow up the house. If seen at such times and
pursued, he could have escaped punishment by a
change of Outward ap 'ance; the negro could
Vanish, and not all the oflicers of the West could
have found him—for the reason that there would
be no such person to find.

Dinsmore lived long enough to makeacon-
fessiou of’ his misdeeds. and to do what he could
to repair an irreparable injury. He instructed
that what property he had should be disposed of
to settle the Quindaro claim. The diamonds /
brought large sums, as did some other valuables;
but the amount obtained fell short of the twenty
thousand which the detective had demanded.

The revelation of the true character of Hen-
derson and Cecil Marsden was made to Benton
at the interview in the kitchen at the rooksry,
which had so excittd Jim Bass’s curiosity.

Bass was present at the wedding, as jovial
and as boastful as ever. He did not threaten
Thomas Quindaro with condifli unishment for
marrying the girl on whom a ad himself set
his youthful afiections, but muttered anathemas
against him should he not treat her in a proper
and becoming irit-a thing entirely unneces-
sary, as the er need not be told.

And so, with song and laughter, the drama
was played out, and the curtain rung down.

« TH]: END.

Beadle's Dime library '
BY\LIEUT.- A. K. SIMS.
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673 Stuttering Sam, the Whitest Sport of Santa Fe.
666 Old Adamant, the Man of Roe .

618 Kansas Karl. the Detective King.

552 Prince Primrose. the Flower of the Flock.
588 Huckleberry. the Foot-Hills Detective.

BY LEON LEWIS.
634 The Submarine Detective: or. The Water Ghouls.
484 Captain Ready. the Red Ransomer.
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A new issue every Wednesday.
Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by an
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Pub hers. 98 William street, New York.

 

 

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" to: Duke Daniels. the v Societ

 It BEADLE’S*DIME*EBRARY.

Published Every lVednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the U17th Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers.

 

 

550 Silk Hand. the Mohave Ferret: or. The Marked
Man of Arizona. B ' Capt. Howard Holmes.

551 Garry Kean, the an with Backbone; or, The
Gladiators of J ack‘s Delight. By W. H Manning.

52 Prince Primrose. the Flower of the Flock' or,
The Grand Camp at Paradise Gulch. By Lieut.
A. K. Sims. _

553 Monte, tho Mntineer; or, The Branded Brig.
By Col. P. lngraham.

54 Mad Sharp. the Rustler; or, The Drummer De-
tective‘s B g Lay-out. B Geo. C Jenks.

555 Gri -Sack Sid. the Sam e Sport; or, the Rivals
of ckabont Range. yJoseph E. Badger. Jr.

556 Fresh. the Sport-Lhevalier; or, A Big Racket at
Slide Out. By A. W Aikcn.

557 The Mountain Graybeards: or. Old Riddle’s
Greatest Riddle. By J C. Cowdrick.

558 Hurrah Harry.the High Horse from Halcyon; or.
High Old l‘imes at Hard Pan. By W. R. Evster.

559 Danton. the Shadow Sharp: or, The Queen of the
Hidden Hands. By Capt. Howard hoimes.

560 The Man from Mexico; or. The Idol of Last
Chance. By Col. P. Ingraham.

561 The Thug King; or. The Falcon Detective‘s In
visible Foe. By Jackson Knox.

562 Lone Hand, the Shadow; 01', The Master of the
Triangle Ranch. By Albert W. Aiken. .

568 Wyomin Zeke, the Hots ur of Honeysuckle;
or, Old unlility's Hard load 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 it . King.

567 Captain Midni ht, the Man of Craft; or, The
Road-Knight’s lot. By P. S. Warne.

568 The Dude Detective' or Phelin McGallagin's
Hard Luck Hustle. By Wm. R. Eyster.

569 Captain Cobra. the Hooded M story; or The
Quickened Dead. By Captain oward Ho mes.

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,tbe Jockey Detective. By G. C. Jenks.

573 The Witch of Shasta; or, The Man of Check.
Ry Major Daniel Boone Dumont.

574 Old Falcon's Double. By Jackson Knox.

575 Stead Hand the Napoleon of Detectives.
By Wfillam H Manning.

576 Silver-Tongued Bid or, The Grip-Sack Sharp‘s
Clean Sweep. By. oseph E. ger. Jr.

577 Tom of California; or, the Actress Detective's
Shadow Act. By Albert W. Aiken.

578 Seven Shot Steve, the Sport with a Smile. By
William R. Eyster.

By Capt.
Howard Holmes. ‘

sso Shadowing a Shadow; or, The Pacific Slope
Detective’s Triple TraiL By J. C. Cowdrick.

581 The Outlawed Skipper; or, The Gantlet Rnnner.
By Col. P. Ingraham.

582 Joram, the Detective Expert. By Jackson Knox.

583 Captain Adair. the Cattle King; or, A Red
Ransom. By P. S. Warns.

584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King. By Ned
Buntllne.

585 Dan Dixons Double; or. The Deadlock of Danger

-' Divi e. By Wm. H. Manning.

586 The Silver Sha Detective‘ or. The Big Rustic
at XL Ranch. y Albert 6. Aiken.

587 Conrad, the Sailor Spry; or, The True Hearts of
'76. By 001. Prentiss ngraham.

588 Sandy Sands. the Sharp from Sun. City- or
Hoist by His Own Petard. By JosephpE. Badger:

5“ Prince Hal, the Battling Detective; or Pat Lyon.
the Master Locksmith By Charles orris.

590 Gentle Jack, the High Roller from Humbug: or,
The Dark Deal at Doubledeck. By W. R. Eyster.

Detective or, Caging

the Uncanny Birds. By .C. Cowd ck. .

596 Cdptain Sid. the Shasta Ferret: or. the Rivals of

Sunset. By Captain Howard Holmes.

508 The Sea Rebel; or, The Red Rovers of the Revo-

lution. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

594mm Face. the Silver King’s Foe :or, The Mys-
terious Highwayman. By Albert' W. Aiken.

565 Wellborn, the Upper-Crust Detective: or Play-
ingtor the Challoner Millions. By Jackson x

596 Rustler Rube. the Round-Up Detective. By
William H. Manning.

597 Big Bandyihe Brigadier of Brimstone Butte.
By Josep Badger, Jr.

596 The Dominic Detective: or. The Deedham Sen-
sation. By J. C. Cowdrick.

599 The Dead Shot Nine: or fiPards of the Plains.
By Hon. Wm. r. Cody. (a alo Bill).

“600 Thf Silver Ship; or. The Sea Scouts of '76. By
' Co .

Prentiss Ingrahsm.

‘ 601 Joe Phenix‘s Shad0w; or, The Great Detective‘s

Mysterious Monitor. By Albert W. Aiken.

 609 Captain Namelessths Mountain Mystery :gig'ege
m. . .

Blue Coats of the Big Horn. By

‘ 66% Desert Alf. the Man With the Con ar; or. The

Strange Pilgrimage of Gentle Jac . By Wm.
B. Eyster.

‘ , 66! The Detective in Rags; or, The Grim Mower.-

By Dr. Noel Dunbar.

 

605 The Shadow Silver Ship; or. The Red Rebel of  656 Old Plug Ugl ,the Rough and Ready: or, The

the Revolution. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

606 The Dro Detective; or. The Dreamthorpe Sen-
satiOn. y Jackson Knox.

607 Old Benzine. the “Hard Case" Detective' or
Joe Bowers‘ Racket at Bicaree City. By Albert
W. Aiken.

608 Silent Sam, the Shadow Sphinx' or, Following
the invisible Trail. By Capt. H. Holmes.

609 The Texas Tramp; or, Solid Saul, the Yankee
Hercules. By Capt. F. Whittaker.

610 The Red Flag Rover; or. White Wings of the
Waves. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

611 Alkali Abe, the Game Chicken from Texas; or,
The Smash-Up in “No-World Kingdom." By
Wm. H. Manning.

612 Sheriff Stillwood, the Regulator of Raspberry;
or. The “Suspects” from Frisco. By J. C.
Cowdrick.

613 Keen Billy; the Sport; or, The Circus at White
Gopher. y Albert W. Aiken.

614 The Showman Detective; or, The Mad Magician.
By Capt. F. Whittaker.

615 The Three Buccaneers- or. The Ocean Outlaw'e
Nemesis. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

616 Magnns, the Weird Detective. By Jackson Knox.

617 The Grip-Sack Sharp’s Even-up: or. The. Boss
Racket at Solid City. By Joseph E. Badger.

618 Kansas Karl. the Detective King; or, The Sphinx
of,Leadville. By Lieut. A. K. Sims.

619 Kit Bandy & Co.. the Border Detectives. or, The
Big Wipe Out at Hermit Dome. By Oll Coomes.

620 Joe Phenix’s Silent Six; or The Great Detec-
tive's Shadow Guard. By Albert W. Aiken.

621 The Red Privateer; or. The Midshipman Rover.
By Ned Buntline.

622 The All Around Sports; or, The Keepers of the
Seals. By Wm. B. Eyster.

623 Dangerous Dave the Never—Beaten Detective;
or, A Fight with Foes from the Grave. By Wm.
H. Manning.

6% The Submarine Detectives; or,The Water Ghouls.
By Leon Lewis.

625 Red Wings; or, The Gold Seekers of the Bahamas.
By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

626 Duca s Dion. the Nabob Sport Detective; or,
'lhe Sealed Secret of the copper Collin. By
J. C. Cowdrick.

627 Mossback Mose. the Mountaineer or. The Bald
Hornet of the Ozark Hills. By Joseph E.
Badger, ' r. /

628'Joe Phenix's Combine: or, The Dandy Conspira-
tor. By Albert W. Aiken.

629 Daredeath Dick, King of the Cowboys; or. In
the Wild West with Buffalo Bill. By Leon Lewis.

680 The Sea Thief; or, The Vailed Voyager‘s Mys-
terious Mission. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

631 Colonel Cool, the Santa Fe Sharp; or The Lucky
Pards of Goodenough. By William . Patten.

632 J , e Phenix‘s Master Search; or, The Casket of
lll Omen. By Albert W. Aiken.

683 The Sea Spy; or, Mortimer Monk, the Hunch-
back Millionaire. By Ned Buntllne.

634 Old ,Handcart's B Dump- or. The Rakestraw
Ructionist. By Wi m R. hyster.

635 The Ear-Buccaneer; or, The Stigma of Sin. By
Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

636 Dandy Darlin ,DetectIVe; or. The Boomer of
Big Buffalo. y Jos. E. Ba er, r.

667 Joe Phenlx in Crazy Camp' or, The Great De-
tective’s Long Chase. By Albert W. Aiken.

688 Murdock, the Dread Detective“ or Northland
Nick’s Guardianship. By Wm. H. Manning.

689 The Gold King; or, Montebello, the Magnificent.
By Buffalo B l.

640 The Rover‘s Retribution- or, The Evil Spirit of
the Deep. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

641 Aztec Jack, the Desert Nomad; or, The Vulture’s
Swoop. By Wm. G. Patten.

642 Red Pard and Yellow; or. The Nabob's of Centi-
pede. By Captain Howard Holmes.

648 Castlemaine. the Silent Sifter: or, The Great
KDetectivia‘s Wonderful Revelation. By Jackson

nox. ,,

644 Bunnie Bill's Bonanzs‘ or, The hts of the
Silver Circle. By Col. Prentiss Ingra am.

645 Gopher Gabe, the Unseen Detective; or. The
Uncanny Ranch. By Jaseph E. Badger. Jr.

646 Dark John, the Grim Guard' or. Hailstorm's
North Plain’s Braves. By William H. Manning.

647 The Fresh 01 Frisco at Santa Fe: or, The
Stranger Sharp. By Albert W. Aiken.

648 Gold Glove Gld. the Man of Grit~ or, Desperate
Durg's Desperate Scheme. By Wm. G. Patten.

649 Buck Taylor. the Saddle King; or. The Lasso
Rangers’ Le e. A Romance of Buflalo Bill’s
Obie of (‘ow ys. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

650 Lucky Lester‘s Lone Hand; or Uncle Bed Rock’s
Queer Game at Ginger Flat. Hy Wm. B. Eyster.

651 Sllvertip Steve. the SR, Scraper from Siskiyou.
By Joseph E. Badger, r.

659 Jwackson Blake, the Bouncer Detective ByA.

. en.

656 The Lasso King's League. A companion Story
to " Buck Taylor, the Saddle King.“ By Colonel
Prentiss lngrah

am.

654 Sol Sphi the Fermi. Detective: or, The Seven
Secrets. Capt. Howard Holmes.

655 Strawberry Sam, the Man with the Birthmark;
or. The War Clan of waiter Annex. By William
H. Manning. , .

 

Last Stroke 0 the Land Sharks. By William (J.
Patten,

657 Long Tom, the Privateer. By Ned Bnntline.

658 The Cowboy Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas. By
Col. Prentiss Ingrnham.

659 Gilt-Edge Johnny; or, Roldan and His Rovers.
By Wm. R. Eyster.

660 The Fresh in Montana; or. Jackson Blake's Full
Hand at Hardtack. By Albert W. Aiken.

661 The Get-There Sharp; or, Grip‘seck Sid at Rocky
Comfort. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

662 The Jew Detective; or, The Beautiful Convict.
By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

663 The Giant Sport; or, Sold to Satan. By Wm. Cl.
Patten.

664 Monk Mo 61. the Man-Hume!" or, The Trail of
the Bandit Nabob. By Capt. Howard Holmes.

665 The Frisco Detective; or, The Golden Gate Find.
By Albert W. Aiken.

666 Old Adamant, the Man of Rock; or, The Hum-
mer from Hummingbird. By Lieut. A. K. Sims.

667 Buffalo Bill’s Swoop; or. The King of the Mines.
By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

66% Solemn Saul’s Luck Streak; or. The Boomer
from Blissful Buttes. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr.

669 Old True Blue. the Trusty: or, The Marauder of
the Mimbres. By Wm. G. Patten.

670 The Lightwe' ht Detective; or. Old Blazes, the
Sovereign of t e Rocks. By Albert W. Aiken.

671 Jason Clew the Silk-Handed Ferret. By Capt.
Howard Holmes.

672 The Red Rapier; or, The Sea Rover‘s Bride. By
Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

673 Stuttering Sam, the Whitest Sport of Santa Fe;
or. How the Hummer from Hummingbird
Feathered His Nest. By Lieut. A. K. Sims.

674 Uncle Sun Up. the Born Detective; or, Boodle
vs. Bracelets. By Albert \\ . Aiken.

675 Steel Surry, the Sport from Sunrise; or, The
Blind Deal at Break-Neck. By J os. E. Badger, Jr.

676 Hurricane Hal. the Cowboy Hots ur; or, Old
True Blue’s Pilgrimage in Satan’s ction. By
Wm. G. Patten.

677 Mr. Jackson, the Gent from Jaybird; or, The
Mystery of the Lovver Drift. By William R.
Eyster.

678 The Dude Desperado or The Baleful Beauty of
Brimstone Bar. By Cap ain Howard Holmes.

679 Revello, the Pirate Cruiser; or, The Rival Rovers.
By CoL Prentiss Ingraham.

680 XX, the Fatal Clew; or, Detective Barr's mas-
ter Case. [By Harold Payne.

681 Joe Phenix’s Specials; or, The Actress Detec-
tive’s Double Victory. By Albert W. Aiken.

682 Buffalo Bill's Secret Service Trail; or, The
Mysterious Foe. By Maj. Dangerfield Burr.

683 Bob Breeze, the Rounder Detective; or, The
Eruption at Eureka. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr ‘

681 Velvet Van,the Mystery-Shadower; or The Man
in the Satin Mask. By Captain Howard Holmes.

685 The Red-skin Sea Rover; or, The Destroyer
Destroyed. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

6% The Cn-the—Wing Detectives; or.'Bolly Blairs
Grand Exposition. By Leon Lewxs.

687 Double Cinch Dan, the S rt With a Charm; or,
The Saints of Sunrise. y Wm. B. Eyster.

688 The River Rattlers; or. The Detective from Way
Back. By-Lieut. A. K. Sims. 1

689 The S arkier Sh ' or. The Spott-r Sport’s
Unknogvn Foe. BWm. G. Patten.

690 The Matchless Detective; or. Thad. Burr’s
Marvelous Case. By Harold Payne.

691 Buflalo Bill’s Blind Trail' or, Mustang Madge,
the Daughter of the Regiment. By 001. P.

raham.

692 Dead-Shot Paul, the Deep-Range Explores” or,
The Mountain Spy‘s Vendetta. By Wm: H-
Manning. -

693 Kent Kasson, the Preacher S rt; or. The Don
bio Deal at Denver. By Jos. . Badger, Jr.
694 Gideon Gri , the Secret Shadower; or. The Claw

of the In his Hand. By Captain Howard
‘ Home“. Pl] De 3 m a
6 -' 1 Sam the m tective: or, c n
90  Batteries. y Lieut. A. K. Sims. .

696 D hie-Voice Dan. the Go-ltaAlone Detective-
orf‘v'rhe Mystery or the Missing Heir. By Wm?
G. Patten.
697 Bumble Bill’s Buckskin Brotherhood' or, Open-
ing Up a Lost Trail. By Col. Prentiss am-
6% Thad Burr, the Invlnc ble; or, Tracking the
"L" Clew. By Hamid sync.
699 The Cowbo ~ Couriers; or, The Bustiers of the
Big Horn.‘ y Leon Lewis. \ m h
700 Joe Phenix's Unknowir or Cm ng t e Crook
Combination. Albert W. Aiken. . I
Ready Much
701. Silver Steve. the Branded Sport. By Captain
Howard Ho mes.
Ready March 80th.

A new am new chwdau- '

Mia’s Dime Library is (or sale by all ,

Newsdealers, ten cents per copy. or sent by mail 9..
receipt of twelve cents each. I ‘
BEADLE AND mutant:va

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