ENTERED AH Sncmn (mus MAII‘ER in THE NEW Sioux. N. Y.. Pusr OFFICE. New. miwr 3s. 1H1"). Published Every fieadla (f- v, titans, (1311722 fishers, Ten CentsaCOPy. V01 wed“°5d“7‘ 3r.) WILLIAM 5 mm. N 1W YORK. “'00 ‘ h“ ' ‘ u u mixvmiimmi ll lilij'lll‘) oland R'eide’s Ruse. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,‘ AUTHOR OF “FRESH or “FRISCO,” £743.; CHAPTER I. ON THE BEACH A'I‘ DONG BRANCH. It is of Long Branch that We writ-x “Long Branch-by-the—Sea,” not the vil~ lage proper. which is a mile or so inland, bug of the hotel and cottage city, cigstm- ing by the side of the sad w-u waves. It was in early spring :md the season had not yet opened; the .u‘ miner visitors had not made their amwm mow, I It was a fine night. air balmy and, m1" 2 The Hawks and Wolves of New York. pleasant, and with just breeze enough stirring l to make one feel comfortable, for the day ha been quite warm. The boulevard along the beach cliff, the grand ocean drive, the one t attraction of the “ Branch,” was almost eserted, for the hour of nine had come, and despite the pleasantness of the night, nearly all the inmates of the hoases along the street were preparing to retire. The drive runs by the side of the beach from Seabright to the \Vest End Hotel, there makes an abrupt turn inland, for a few hundred yards, and then, though turning again to its original course, is separated from the beach by a line of cottage estates. - Right op site to the West End Hotel, on the top of the b uff, is a. little carefull -tended lawn where the open summer- ouses o the hotel are placed, and a wooden stairway leads to the bathing-booths below. But at the time of which we write neither summer-houses nor bathing-booths were in place, for the first, very much the worse for wear after the winter campaign, were over on their sides against the fence, and the bathing-cabins, all taken apart, were piled up in heaps by the side of the summer-houses. The only thing in readiness for the opening season was the weather—beaten wooden stair- way. And upon this stairway, seated about half- way down it, so as to be concealed from the view of any one passing along the drive above, was a oung man, gazing with a sober face out upon he moonlit waste of waters, and putting listless] at a cigar. He was of medium height and we l-built; had regular features, deep blue eyes and golden, crispy curling brown hair; a small full beard concealed his chin, but his up- per lip was cleanly shaven. This gave rather an odd appearance to the handsome face, par- ticularly as the hair had been allowed to grow long after the careless artist fashion. He was dressed poorly; all his attire from his boots to his but gave evident si us of long wear, and there was an anxious loo upon his face which plainly told of inward care. ‘.‘ Wh don’t she come?”he muttered, draw- in fort a little silver watch and consulting it. “ t is after time, and I want to get out of this by that late train to-night; the p ace is gettin too deuced hot too hold me. 1 mustn’t wait unt to morrow. If-I miss that train to-night, I’ll foot it up to Seabri ht, cross the brid e to the Highlands and take he New York fre ght-boat w.h ch goes up the thing in the morning. Ithink that will give my inquiring friends the slip in the most ingenious manner. But I must have a parting word with my sweet girl.” And as he came to this pomt in his soliloquy, the sound of footste reached his ears—short, and sharp—a woman s footsteps evidently. The youn man rose an tossed awa his cigar, and I face lit up so that he look like another person. A woman appeared at the to of the stair- way, and at once descended, smil ugly, to greet the watcher. , She was eighteen, apparentl , not little nor yet e in stature, and been fully formed; a round, nglish-like face, rosy with the hues of health, lit up by reat brown eyes—thoughtful eyes and with re her a sad expression. Her hair was blue-black in color, and grew in re- fusion. She was dressed plainly, poorly in act, for, althou h everything she wore was tastefully and becom nglty made, yet the stuff was of the commonest an cheapest material. “You are late,” he said, as she descended to his side; and he ssed his arm around her as he spoke, imprin ng a loving kiss upon her not unwillin lips. ' *‘ Yes, have along way to come, you know, and I could not leave home 'until after dark without excitin suspicion.” fi‘Ah, my daring, the time will come, and soon, hope, when you will be with , me all the time. ’ Slowly they descended the steps until they reached the beach. Above shbne the bright moon, along the shore the surf poured in with its restless roar; his arm was around her waist, her head pillowed upon his bosom, while her eyes were fixed upon his face, full of love. “ Oh, I hope so." she replied, in fervent ac- cents. “The life Ilead now is misery. All is so dark and dreary; the only 00nsolation I have is to think of you.” . , “’ Bear it for awhile, the end will soon come.” " I will strive to do my best, but it is a. dread- ful life; all that keeps me up are these blissful secret meetings With you. If it was not for the courage that you give me—the remembrance of your caresses, I feel that I should never b0 able to endure it. I should go mad, I am sure I should.” 5 A shade passed over the young man’s fan), I and involuntarily his arms tightened around I her and drew her i till closer to him. ; “My own dear Helen if I could only express ' hapnv your words make me, and l I to you how Yd: they ,~_-;..~,.r in» 'niserahie,1oo. fire "l'ili‘l fortune dccrets t!” .t ior 'l time-We, mth separ- ate.” ~ ‘ . _ “Separate!” (ill-l the cry came like it Will. of anguish ’.ii‘:.‘.3lit i‘mh ti c 3 mung girl’s heart. . simple “ Yes; Heaven knows I would spare you this blow if Icould,”he said hurriedly, evidently much troubled, “but it is impossible, and we must bow to the will of fate. Trust me, have confidence in me, and believe that all will be well. You do trust me, do you not?” . “Can you ask that questioni”she re lied, a little touch of reproach in her tones. “ ave I not given you the best roof of it in the world? You have my love, al that I can give, and yet you are almost a stranger to me.” “Helen, dear, I am almost a stranger to all the world. You know as much of me as any one does, with two or three exceptions. I am called Roland Reade,a Bohemian, a man. who makes his living by his wits, a J ack»of-all- trades, and a master of none, a rolling stone who thus far has gone throu h the world gathering no moss; in a ha py, b issful hour, I came here to the side 0 old ocean and en- countered you, a Jersey lily blooming amid these barren sands, flourishing in the shadow of the stunted pines; the moment I saw you I felt conscious that you would change all my future life. [sought to win the priceless treasure of your love, and I succeeded. I have lingered in one lon of awa ening has come and I cannot linger longer. The nets of adversity are gathering around me, and I must away ere I am caught in the toils of the spoiler.” “ You are in danger 4” and she clung still more tightly to him. ‘I am, but do not press me for an ex lana— tion, for I am so situated that I cannot to 1 you all that I would under other circumstances. All I ask is for on to trust and love me—be- lieve me true! elieve me when 1 say that I love you more than all the world besides, and that as soon as I can 1 will return and make you mine, 0 enly before all the world.” “ An this is our last meeting, then?” the girl gasped, her eyes filled with tears. “ For the present, yes; but do not weep; I will come again to on as soon as I can.” “ But I may not e here; my position is grow- ing so absolutely unbearable that at any mo- ment I may have to run away to seek my for- tune out in the cold, cruel world.” “ Yes, I remember on told me something of this on our last meet u , butI entreat you not to go if you can possib y avoid it: but in case ou do have to leave home, you will go to New ork. I presume!” u Yes. i “I have prepared this letter for you; do not open it until you arrive in the city on any ac- count,” and he put _a sealed envelope in her hand. “In it you will find instructio . And now, one farewell kiss and then - y. No matter what ha pens—no matter ow much ap- pearances ma 0 against me, belieye and trust mg; 'm on'l'i all th 1d t y" t oug e wor may urn against you?’ she cried, impulsively. A fond embrace, lips to 1i in lover’s pas- sionate kisses and tha -—he hurrying along the beach, for he 0 ht that road woul be safer than to trust to t e avenue, and she sinking down in a flood of tears at the foot of the stairwa , the‘dreadfal thought upon her that she mig t never see him again. CHAPTER II. A DRIADFUL DISCOVERY. “ GONE, gone, perhaps forever-1” she mur- mutedt her tears falling thick and fast. But he more violent the grief the quicker it is over, and after a, few minutes the girl recov- ered her composure, wiped away the tear-drops and with slow steps, mournful reflections and a heav heart she reascended the stairway. Stra ght along the'avenue she went, past the West End Hotel, and around the turn until she came to Cedar avenue into which she turned, her backgron the sea, and proceeded up the de- sorted ro . , There were signs of life along the avenue though, if the girl was the only one who seemed to be abroad. . , Holly wood, the great Hoey Mansion, was ablaze with light and in the “ actors’ quarter,” as it is termed, the inmates of Mary Anderson’s, Chanfrau’s, Johnny Albaugh’s, Maggie Mitch- ell’s and Manager Henderson’s cottages were all u . pA sigh came from the sweet lips of the girl as she trudged past the abodes of these Thespian celebrities and peering in through the windows saw the merry players enjoying the delights of home after their long professional tours. The girl was a born aristocrat, and when she COmpfiI‘t d the cornforts of the life, of which she nowraught' a glimpse, With the miserable ex- istence which she was compelled to endure, her heart fairly grew sick within her. ' She hurried forward, for the sight of these happy people only made her more miserable; and as she trod along the weary road all the events of her life came back to her One unceasing round of toil that life had been. Ever since she could remember she had dwelt with old Daddy Waybit. on a little farm in the “ pines,” a couple of miles from Branchburg—a little sandy patch, right in the middle of the forest of ’scrulr by pines, ten or twelve acres in extent, with a small story-and-a-half farm-"house and a dilapidated little barn. The neighbors were all negroes, who occupied similar patches reclaimed from the pines, and who managed to getaliving by raising “ truck ” and fruit, principally berries. Way bit was an eccentric sort of a man, who had not changed a rticle in all the years the girl had known him. Her earliest remem- rances of him was as a mihapen, cross old man, very much given to drink, and who sel- dom went to bed sober if he could procure liquor. He was, though, a person of education, head and shoulders above any of the neighbor- ing country people, despite his vices and slovenly W8. 3. o Jerse man was Waybit. He had bought the misera 1e little farm some fourteen years ago, coming from no one knew where, accom- panied b an old woman, whom he called his wife, an the girl, then a child of four ears, whom all supposed to be his dau hter. e was a mystery to the neighbors, for hough he cul- j tivated the farm after a fashion, yet he never dream of happiness, but now the hour ; raised enough to support himself and family, but, as he always had money enough to pay his bills, it was plain that he had something to de- ‘ pend upon besides the land. Waybit was gruff, surly, and repelled all familiarity, so that at first the neighbors be— lieved him to be all that was bad, a rascal hid- ing from an outraged law, and procuring his money by foul deeds, but in fourteen years a man will live down many an idle rumor, and longr ago the talk had ceased; Daddy Waybit, as he was commonly called, was regarded as a pretty good citizen by all, and the explanation which, when in his cups one day, he had vouch- safed to give, that he had a small income, en- ou h to live on, was accepted. 'Ehe child, whose name was Helen, although made to work around the farm exactly the same as though she was a boy, was educated by the old man in the most careful manner, and as both he and his wife were scholars, always speak- ing correctly, the girl grew up ladylike and re- flned, for she had never been allowed toasso- ciate with the coarse, common children of the uni hborhood. . e only luxury that old Waybit aflorded liquor excepted, was reading matter, books an newspapers. Of these there was always plenty. so the girl did not grow up entirely in ignorance of the great world. ‘ When Helen was fourteen years old Mrs. waybit died after a short illness, and her last words ere her t took flight were to the child who, weeping, begged her mother not to leave her. “I am not your mother, child,” she mur- mured, and then she had clasped her husband’s hand and cried, wildly: “ See that justice is done this cruelly-treated girl or I will come back. from the other world and haunt you b niglllit, you villain i” and ex- hausted by the orts 0 had sunk back and ex- pired. , The next day Daddy Waybit prlall‘l‘ed: . “ You are not my child, he said; my .wife found you in the street. cue cold winter’s mght, in a basket, deserted by your inhuman parents, and she resolved to care or you and she has al- ways been anxiout to have me tell you the truth about your ntage and many a time. has called mea vi ' because I refused. But you know all now and the poor woman can rest eat in her grave.” . _ Byut, did she know all? There was a lurkin suspicion in the girl’s mind which strengthen as year grew into year that she did not know the whole truth. She kept this to herself, though, for she knew Daddy Waybit well enough to understand that it would not profit her for him to know she doubted his words. A weary life of drudgery Helen led after the death of Mrs. Waybit; not only all the cares of the house but the farm also came upon her shoulders, for the old man became more and more addicted to liquor. , , . Then across her desolate life. like a glorious a dull and drear December day, sun lighting up It was 3 came the wanderer, Roland Reed. case of love at first si ht. _ _ And while she was ifted to the very skies in Iove’s young dream. 01:1 Daddy Waybit sudden— ly took it into his head to persecute the girl With his attentions, telling her that he would make her his second W1 e. ‘ And the old man was so obstinate—so deter- . mined upon this point, that Helen feared unless some favorable accident occurred to cause him to change his mind, she would be compelled to seek refuge in flight. Her lover’s departure, the old man’spersecu- tion, the mystery surrounding her birth, her aspirations for a higher, nobler existence than the one she was now leading—with all'these ioomy thou bts and conditions pressing upon get agitated irain. was it any wonder that the way seemed long and dreary! ' At last, emerging from the pines, sne came in sight of the old farm-house, but to her astonish- ment a light shone through the curtain of the i kitchen window. ' Thin was strange, for Daddy Waybit had /. The Hawks and Wolves of New York. been drinkingl hard all the afternoon, and had laid down rig t after supper, and after he had once gone to bed in such a condition she had never known him to rise until the next mom— in . i sudden im ulse came to her to advance cautiously, peer nto the kitchen through a crack in the rear wall, and discover the meaning of this unusual occurrence. It was a happy thought, and Helen at once executed it, to iscover a stranger within-41 well-dressed, big, burly man, with a smoothly- shaven, fat face, short-cropped sand hair, and a loud coarse voice. Daddy Waybi sat oppo- site to him, an ugly look upon his hard. wrink ed face, and his eyes blinking like those of an owl brought suddenly into the light. Evidently he had been roused from his slumbers andhe didn’t ‘ relish it. The two were in the midst of a hot discus- sion, and the girl could plainly hear every word. “ It’s no use for you to beat about the bush 1” the stranger declared, bringing his hand down upon the table with 3'- heavy whack. “ I wa t you to understand I’ve come here for the gal and I am going to have her, and that is the kind of a bird 1‘ am! Gayaway Muttlebud is my name, and the man that once has me put my flippers onto his shoulder is never anxious for a second spoonful oi the soup. It’s none of your business what; want her for! Mebbe it’s for arson, mebbe for murder,” and the stranger leaned over and hissed the word at the old man. Helen’s heart fairly rose in her throat; what did this coarse and brutal stranger mean by such horrid words? “ You. are playing a bluff ame. but you cilin’l’: frighten me. Murder, ha i” Waybit re- 19( . “What do you know about the girl? What do you know ’bout what she has been up to?” the man cried. “ You can’t keep track of her all the time. Perhaps I should astonish our weak nerves it‘ I told you that the gal h got a fellow whom she meets on the beach in secret, and you can bet all you’ve got in the world that that is where she has gone to now, and that is what is detaining her.’ “ It’s a lie 1” exclaimed Waybit, furiously. “ Nary time; but I’m not surprised that she succeeded in pulling the wool over your eyes, but she wasn't smart enough to fool me. I have been in the detective business too long; but now, to-return to our mutton I’ve got to have the girl; whatI want with her is no business of ours. I'mlgoing totake her and you cannot elp yourse . but asIallers lieve in doing things on the quiet, I don’t want to kick up any fuss bout the matter. I want on to introduce me to her, to—morrow as an oh? friend of yours whom you have sent for to take her to the city, so that she can see a little of life. She won’t have any suspicions, of course, and she’ll come ri ht alon with me as docile as a lamb. And w on the t ing is fixed I will make a fair divvy with you for your trouble.” “ Eh? I don’t understand you l” “Why, I will give 'you a fair share of the cash that l corral—the reward offered for her capture, you know,” and then the speaker ut his tongue in his cheek and winked in a pec iar way at Waybit. . ‘ Reward for her capture!” repeated the other, whose brains were sti I so upset by liquor as to be incapable of reasoning clearly. “ That’s what I said, and don‘t flatter yourself you can get her out of the way, for it can’t be done! I ve ot everyroadcovered in this nei h- borhood, an if you should attempt to run er of! to any railroad station she would be nabbed the instant she set foot upon theplatform. Now, you fix it, as I suggested,so that she will go with me quietl and I Will let you in for a share. Re- fuse, and .W1“ go to the nearest magistrate the first thing in the morning, Svear out a warrant for her arrest, come here With the officers and take her by main force!” The girl waited to hear no more, for she was filled with a terrible fear. What if this burly stranger should take it into his head to Walk to the door look out and discover her? At all hazards she must escape! but the roads were guarded! ‘ The simple child never dreamed that this guard was nothing but the idle vaunt of a man whose chief stock in trade was brass and brag. There was a path through the pines which led to a small back-countryroad. By keepingto the back roads, avoiding the turnpikcs, she t ought she would be able to reach the county seat, Freehold, Some sixteen miles away; and once there, in the morning, she could take a train to New.York. No one would be apt to think ofplacmg a spy on the watch at that distant int. She knew every foot of the way, for she had been to Freehold with Daddy VVaybit a half- dozcn times, and as the old man had a decided aversion to paying tolls. which in SnuthJersey is no small item, he always avoided the turn- pikne 'm'l went l‘)’ the back roads. Fortune favored her too, ii: one respect; she ind sold sonwsyming chickens of herown raising at Long lienc-l: village that very afternoon, and had the money in her pocket—six dollars] That would pay her fare to the city and enable her to live for a few days until she could find some- thin to do, for in the innocence of her heart she id not think it would be a hard matter for a young, strong and willing girl, like herself, to prrocli‘ire employment in great overgrown New or . She crossed the little field—stopped just for a moment on the edge of the pines to take a fare- well look at the humble cottage which had shel- tered her so long, waved her hands toward it bidding it a mute ood-by, while the tears stood in her eyes, then D tinged into the recesses of the wood, and it would have been a skillful tracker indeed who could have followed the trail of the girl that night. - ' Ou she went with steady, resolute ate 5; she reached the back road, then struck off ward Eatontown, keeping a wary look around, fearing a spy in ever dark covert. Not a. sing e soul did she encounter on her journey that night, and about two in the mom- in she came to the depot in Freehold. l The morning train for the city was standing 2 on the track, ready for the engine. One of the cars was open; she entered it, stretched herself upon a seat, and slept soundly until the dayligéit coming in at the window awakened her. 0 one noticed her particularly. She slipped out, bought her ticket and the train started. She had escaped the toils. CHAPTER III. THE PLANTAGENETS. ON Fifth avenue, in the city of New York, op- ‘ posite Central Park, and above Sixtieth street, stands a mansion so palace-like in appearance that it commands the attention of even the most careless passer-by: . Without and Within it was a palace, fit for a king,and yet it was only the private dwellin of the widow of a rivate gentleman but he ad ‘ been reall a ing among his fellows, and when he led left his disconsolate widow five million of dollars, all well and, securely in- vested. An odd genius he had been too, in his life- time. He was an Englishman b birth, named Gloster lantagenet, or at least t is what he called hi self, although before he got tobe a rich man there were scoflers in abundance who sneered at this high-sounding appellation, but after he “ made his pile,” and was able to draw his check for a million or two without feeling it, the man bold enough to suggest that Planta- genet was a humbu and no more descended from the ancient Eng ish house of Plantagenet than from Julius Caesar. would have stood a ood chance of being mobbed by all the money Eing’s acquaintances. Plantagenet Was well in years and rather bad- ly of! for money when he landed upon our shores, and how he got his first start no one exactly knew; but, after he did get started, he went ahead with wonderful rap dity. Ever hing be touched seemed to turn into gold, an his luck became proverbial. And a ter he arrived at the eminence of being one of the “ kings” of New York, as he was a widower, the match-makers of society set them- selves at work to find a wife for him, but he had been on the lookout himself. and the fashionable world Were surprised one fine morning with the news that Gloster Plantagenet and Matilda Livingstone, the widow of Judge Livingstone, were aboutto be married. ~ Against the lady nothin could be said on the score of birth, for she had n aVan Tromp be- fore marrying the judge, a belle and a beauty, and even age and the fact that she had a son of sixteen did not diminish her charms. ! But as far as money went, she was not well ' off. From her father she had inherited very 1 little, from her husband scarcely anything, for | the judge was one of those men who lived up to i every cent of his income, no matter whether it was five thousand or fifty. Rumor, that sharp-tongued jade,declared that the‘widow had married the railroad king for his money, and the world answered the aspersion by saying that, if it was true, Matilda Living- stone was the chea st thing Gloster Planta- genet had ever boug t. Between the widOW’s son, Denb Livingstone, and the Englishman, the best of eeling did not exist. There had been no quarrel, for Planta- genet was one of those polished men who seem to glide through the world Without friction, and the young) man, too, was reserved and quiet, aithough is intimate associates declared that he could be as stubborn as a mule and aswarlike as a lion, at times. There was a lack of sympathy between the two, from the first, and the wife and other although she had perceived it and had ( one all she could to remove it, at last gave up the task, satisfied that as long as the two existed the feel- ing would continue. A year or two before his death Plantagenet sent to England for his only living relatives-so a he said—Richard Plantagenet, his nephew. and ‘ Viola- Plantagenet. his nieces cousins, not bro- i ther and sister. The wife, although at first ‘ rather inclined to be jealous, thinking they would supplant her boy, soon grew to like the pair. 0 And the girl, particularly, was such a capti- vating creature, that she completely won the wife’s heart. , Plantagenet’s acquaintances had a shrewd suspicion that the railroad king intended to make one of the two his heir, but when he died all his vast estate was left by will to his widow, neither Viola, Richard nor Denby being men- .ti0ned. Mrs. Matilda Plantagenet was a peculiar wo- man: when she made up her mind to anything, ith was almost an impossibility to get her to c ange. She had looked upon Viola as calculated to make her son a ood Wife, and although she did everythin in er power to throw them into each other 8 society, yet she did not speak open- ly about the matter, ut a year or so after the death of her husband theidea seemed to develop r son, but the young man, now twen- ty—four years old, did not receive it favorabl , much to his mother’s disnleasure, and the resu t was they quarreled and Denby quitted the house ‘ in an er. He ad been gone a year, and now on this eve- nin of which we write had just returned in obegience to his mother’s pressing request. The two were seated in Mrs. Plantagenet’s private parlor, which was a front room on the second floor. ' Mrs. Plants genet was a woman of command- ing fi ure and of dignified aspect, and still beauti 111, although there were the cold, hard lines around the mouth and eyes which always indicate an iron will. Denby.the son, was a well- roportioned young man, with regular, clear-cu features, pleasing expression, and the unmistakable stamp which a life of ease and luxury, free from care and toil, almost invariably gives. His hair was cut short, cropped, in fact, after the idiotic fashion common to the fashion- able young men of the day. his chin was smooth- ly shayen, and a small mustache shaded his u r ip. p e had his mother’s dark-blue eyes, and the look which came from them was equallyas reso- lute as the light which shone irom hers. And new mother and son wmzing upon each other like two enemies me g strength before engaging in mortal combat. The lady was the first to speak. “ You have returned at last,” she said. “Yes, because you sent for me; otherwise I should not have come.” ‘ “ And are you ready now to comply with my wishes?” “ No more thanwhen I departed.” “ And when will you be ready?” “ Never 1” Mrs. Plantagenet stamped her foot angrily. “ligenby, you are a willful, disobedient son “.And’you, mother, are unreasonable and im; ‘1‘1 What obj ti bl ha 1 ec on can on £0311 vo o Viola? Is she not everythihg at a gen oculd desire'il Where in this world can you find a girl more suitable for a wife!” ‘ “ I grant that she is perfection, but I do not .care for her.” ' “ And will you let a foolish whim stand in the way of my happiness?” she cried imperiously. “ Denby,if I couldsee you marri to thatsweet , girl I should be content to die, for my cup of appiness Would be full to overflowing. I tell you it is necessary that this union should take place; it is for your own sake more than mine that I urge it. Why will you not confide in my su rior judgment and yield to my wishes in this matter?" “ What are the reasons why this union should take place, and why for my sake? There must be no half-confidences, mother, if you expect me to yield up the happiness of my life by com- pl ng with your wishes.” ‘ I have alread explained.” “ All that you ave said merely goes to show that it is your whim that I should wed Viola, but you have not yet given a single reason why the union should take place, except that you fanc the match.” “ nd I am determined that it shall be made!” 3. i into a regular mania; she then broached the . 1matctei'to e Mrs. Plantagenet cried,quickly, her countenance . flushed with anger. “And I am equally determined that it shall ‘ not be consummated.” “If you refuse to comply with‘my Wishes, I will disinherit you! Not one single penny of my money shall you touch! You shall go forth into the world a beggar!” The son laughed in scorn. “And what, think you, do I care for your money? If I can survive the loss of your es- teem and love, do you for a moment imagine that I care for the gold? 1 have a good educa- tion, and have a certain talent for some things, so the world says, and if I am not able to get my daily bread then I am content to starve.” The lady rose majestically. “ You shall have until low ’fl'r-Jv» .i-"ll‘. i” ,2; 2.0 decide,”she said, :; ,If E~; :‘;.l 1. might \ \ .v'.‘ r .‘l ~ I l'AJ‘ihf’} ' 4 The Hawks and Violves of V that you shall ever spend under this roof if you refuse.” “ Mother, there isn‘t thb least use in waiting until the morning; I can give you my answer to-night as well.” he replied, also rising. “It is no! and it will be no for all time to come.” “ Miserable, misguided boy!” she cried turn- ing upon him with a sudden fury, “ and do you think I do not know why it is that you are so firm in this matter? When you firstref used and quitted this house it was because your pride Nas piqued that I, your mother, dared to choose for you, but now you have another reason for refus- ing. Do not think that I am speaking idly or at random, for I am Well informed concerning all your movements since you left this house; de- tectives have been upon your track and you have been constantly watched. “ If you hold firm in your resolve, you will be no son of nine, and think not that you will be able to enjoy the life which ou have chosen in preference to the one which selected, for I will use all my wealth and influence to baffle you in your designs, and although I will not strike at you, disobedient boy, yet I will at the one who as come between me and my long-cherished lans.” “ Do not threaten,motherl” he cried, indig- nantly; “it is useless and I defy you to harm me or those for whom I care. i thank you for the caution, though, for forewarned is forearm- ed and now thatl know what is before me, I will do my best to check you in every move. I understand, too, to whom I am indebted for this griendly interest in my aflairs. Mr. Richard lautagenet no doubt has been not only your adviser, but your confidential agentaswell; and in this struggle which is to come, as you Will not strike at me,so I will notaim a blow at you, but as for this interloper who has come betWeen us, let him bawarel he will have need of all the courage and skill of the doughty warrior whose name he bears to win in this contest. As for you, mother, you will live to repent the day when you for ot that [was your son and for- bade me your ouse.” Then the young man quitted the room, and hardly had the door closed behind him when Richard Plantagenet came from a closet where he had been concealed. “ Did you hear him, Richard!" she cried, ex- citedly; ‘he will not yield an inch, and he dares to threaten me; but he shall do an will, or else I will crush him and this wretch girl who has come between us to the very dust!” “ My dear aunt, for his own sake it must be done, and now let me suggest a plan.” The two sat down and conferred together. CHAPTER IV. us run nanx. Mmmon'r had come and gone, and the “ woe, ama’ hours ” of the morning were at hand. Mrs. Plantagenet had not retired to rest until late and it was after one o'clock before she got whales-a.“ A r on ng her a i'tment which was a back room on the recon story in the rear of her lor, she been careful to lock and bolt all 0 doors beh nd her, and undressingaud putgrig on her night-robes, had gone to her private e -an ornamental piece of furniture, gotten up after the fashion of a small bureau, so that one notacquainted with it would never, have been apt to s t what it was—unlocked it, cast a hurried nce around, as though she feared notwithsanding the doors were all locked and bolted, that some one mi ht be playing the spy uplon her, then drew on a little secret drawer w ich contained two large, folded,legal-lookingf documents. “1‘: flnédhsomo safer lags,” as dmust-laur- o n e papers n or n , n thoughtfulg upon t o superscriptions, but no attempting to open them. “ Some-afar place,”she repeated, in a mechan- ical sortof tone; “ but where—where! Ah! that will uiro some thought. Chance might lead to a d some? here, and if Denby know, what would he say ’ With a deep sigh, she returned the papers to the secret drawer, shut it up, closed the safe and locked it carefully. “ To-morrOw—ay, to-morrow will do; to-mor- row“ will see about it; it shall not remain here ano or night,” she murmured, her mind ovi- don lg far away. An turning down the gas so that there was just t enough to distinguish objects in the room I wont to bed. The clocks in the city had struck three—that ' hourwhen human sleep is said to be the deepest, a the when there came a low cautious knock massive door which led from the hall into Mrs. Plantagenet's apartment - but the mistress of the mansion, firmly wrapped in slumber’s chains, heard it not. A second, a third time, the knock was repeat- ad but the lady’s sleep was unbroken. Then the knockor satisfied that the inmate of the room was not likely to be easily disturbed, ed to action. - “as applied a pair of “ nippers”—a burglar’s used for turning a key in the lock from the outside of a door by ruling the end of the key. filowly the keyturned, the bolt oftho lock moved back without a sound. The door now was fastened only by the heavy bolt on the in— side. From his pocket the man took a hood of black crape, arranged to covu‘ both head and facc, but with eye—holes, so that the wearer could dis- tinguish what he was about. This he drew on, and then, cautiously turning the knob, opened thc door, the strong bolt with in yielding immediately to the pressure without resistance—showing that it had previously been tampered with. The door open, the intruder cautiously looked into the room; then with noiseless steps he ad— vanced directly to the bedside, and—like one Well ac uainted with Mrs. Plantagenet’s habits —drew rom under the pillow her pocketbook, from which he abstracted the key of the safe, disdaining to help himself to three one-hundred- dollar bills which were also in the same recep- tac e. Strai; ht to the safe he went and unlocked it without trouble, evidently being familiar with it, but the location of the secret drawer puzzled him for some time, for that was what he was after. He found it at last, opened it, and took out the two documents Mrs. Plantagenet had examined before retirin to rest. “ Aha l” he muttered in a fierce chuckle, as he pod the paper. “ ow, Denby, we will see who will triumph l” Therewas a rustling of the bed-clothes, and he sprung to his feet in alarm. Mrs. Plantagenet was wide awake and sitting up in thebedl He had thrust the papers inside his breast at the first alarm, and now, perceiving that he was discovered, he made a dash for the door, but on the way was intercepted by Mrs. Plan enet, who, with rare courage, sprung at him ike a tigress. “ Help, help, murder l”'she cried. The two grappled ' soon assistance would come, for the woman's shriek had run shrilly through the house. Understanding th s the intruder exerted all his strength tore himself loose from her graslpégnd hurled her violently backward, then das through the door, closing it after him. The woman, thrown backward with such vio- lence, struck her beads ainst the marbletopped tableinthe center of t e apartment and was stunned b the shock. When he frightened servants entered the room, headed by Miss Viola, they found Mrs, Plantagenet senseless and bleeding. . As quickly as possible she was «placed ugon the bed and a messenger dispatch for a octor. He soon arrived, is residence being near at hand. Under his care she ially revived, but her senses seemed to be a acted b the shock which she had received, for onlyw d and whirling w~ Irds came from her lips. “Oh, Denby, Denby my boy 1” she moaned, “ how could you woun your poor mother, who would have gladly given her life to save you from harm l" “ Her mind wanders; she does not know what she issaying,” the doctor observed, and imme- diately he ve orders to have the apartment cleared of but the nurse. But the mischief had been done, and grave suspicions were excited. CHAPTER V. o w 1' a r: r a A I N . FULL of anxiety was the heart of the girl u the train went on its way to the city. The boasting words of the burly stran or were fresh in her memory. and, for the fl six 0: 913“; stations, she trembled with apprehension every time a pa-enger entered the car, but as she journeyed further and further away from her startin -point and found that no one took any parti notice of her, she began to regain her courage. Her purluors would surely never think of looking for her so far away. After about half the distance to the cit had been acoomglishod, Helen suddenly remem the letter w ich her lover had given her on the previous evening. Surely the time had now come to open it! Acting u the im loo, she did so. Inclosed n the save ope was a ton-dollar hill, and a brief note, which ran as follows: l “ If on are compelled to leave home and go so sh. city, I’lnclose on ten dollars which will lupport you for a week or wo, and in that time you can find ma, 1 cannot give you an ve definite directions, bug, after ou arrive in - ow ork, go daily at twelve o‘cloc , noon, to tho obelisk ln Centr Park, W Fifth avenue and opposite Elghtleth street. The obelisk is ona little mound. main on the hill in front of tho obelisk and facing the avenue for ion or fifteen minutes, then descend. cross the drive and takoa seat on one of the benches opposite: wait a half-hour or so, and, if I do not come return home and repeat the same thing the next day. All this. I know seems very m storious. but more are reasons for it Have slth in my honesty, an be- lieve me when 1 ea that I am truly yours until death puts an end to he love and life. Then followed the bold signature: " Bonn Buns.” A pleasant smile was upon the girl's face, and l. . «. .“ ,, Jr.- .7 York._ a strong love-light shone from her brilliant eyes; she was resolved to obey the instructions to the letter. At the next station a benevolent. countrifiod old gentleman, with a round, ruddy face, fringed by iron-gray hair, and ornamented with a short’ heard of the same hue. came into the car. He was plainly and comfortably dressed, looking like a well-to—do farmer. There was a vacant seat by the side of the girl, about the only one in the car, and the old gentleman asked if it was engaged. Helen, suspicious of danger, had taken a good look at him, afraid at first that he might be an agent of the burly stranger who had talked so freely of hunting her down, but the apprehen- sion vanished almost as quickly as it had arisen for in such a mild-looking, honestappearing old gentleman, there could surely be no guile, so she answered that the seat was at his service. He sat down beside her, and the two speedily got into conversation, the old gentleman being naturally talkative. “Going to the city, hey, miss?" he had in- quired. Helen answered in the afiirmativr, and then he stated that he was also bound for “ York,” and immediate] proceeded to give a full history- of himself and study. He used to live in the city but his health wasn’t ve good, so he had gone into farming in a smal way: his health had improved, but; his pocket had suffered, for his fnrming opera- tions had been anything butiroiitable, so hi; wife and daughter and son,all of whom mor- tally hated the Country, as he confidentially in- formed his com mice, had returned to New York and open a small lotel on South Fifth avenue. ' Fifth avenue was of course well known to the girl as being the great street of Gotham, and she formed a ve favorable impression of the old entleman an his relatives. '1‘ en, after the fashion of the country 1 actuated by that dev0uring curiosity which seems to be natural to all rural denizens, the old fellow put the girl through a regular cm examination. “ Live down in the country, I s’posez” If she had not felt so sure that her companion was exactly what he looked to be, an i uisi- tive old countryman, she would have hesi ted to answer, but as it was, she saw no harm in satisfying his curiosity, so endeavored to reply freel , and yet at the same time keep in reserve po culars which might lead to her being traced and a prehended. " es, sir, I have lived in the country.” “ Freehold, mebbe?” “ Well, not exactly at Freehold.” “Yas, near it, I reckon; pretty lace; I ain’t much acquainted in that neighbor ood, though. Don’t you live in the country now?” “ No, sir.” , “ Oh, I see; folks moved to the cit l" “ I haven’t any folks; I am an orp an." “Bakes alive you don't tell me so! Well well, now that is too bed. A nice, likely g‘ai rich as you are and no folks to take care on her. I s‘poee you’ve got friends in the city, tho hf" “ es, sir,” and a slight flush appeared u is her innocent young face; she thought of or lover, Roland—he was in the city somewhere, and such a friend as he was worth a hundred of the common kind. The shrewd old man had keen eyes; he no- ticed the color which his question had called up and easily guessed the reason. “ I s’pose you are oing to your friends now?" not appearing to not ce what he so plainly mw. “l—no, sir, I do not know the addre- an I suppose it will take me some time to find it.” “ ike as not,” he observed; “ I tell you those pesky big cities are awful hard genes to find anybody n unless you have got street and number right down, so you kin go M“ to the house. You’ll excusem axin youwmy gusstions, you r know, but am or III 01d ogy ’bout some things, and when I I0“ 5 like]? youn gal like you trawling all alone, I kinder git in rested in her, “on if “10 W“ my 0" darter; I’ve got a galup to 0th M ’bOW Your agekilou know.” “ , sir I do not feel at all offended at your questions.” i “ ‘ ngtt;htbat's the riggt way to look .t t, but some t o gab nowa ays are so stuck- that it is ’bout what a man’s Hail; worth or to say a civil word tothem. Well now, you see, we have jest got to talking, jest by accident, and I’ll bet a cocky I know how you are situated. I will be able to he of some amistanco to you, seeing as how you ain’t very well acquahited with the city. Awful bad place I tell yer, New York, for a young gal what ain‘t How might I call your name, my For a moment the l hesitated. She had al— bosn called elen Waybit, but when the old man revealed to her that she was not his child, he also said he did not know whose child she was. Helen, though, had a suspicion, which she could not rid of, although there was absolutely no oundation for it, that the old topsdidkncw,hotfonmneparpaeol flaown ¥ chose to keep her in ignorance. Her right name was not Helen Waybit; why give it, then, and so expose herself to the risk of being traced and ca tured? oi Henceforth she must be known by an- other appellation, and so she gave the first that came into her head. She had no home, and :therefore Helen Home should be her name. “ Well, { swovv! Helen Home!” observed the old gentleman, repeating the name; “ why, that is a right pretty name, and you seem to be a real nice kind of a gal; it’s kinder of a shame that you shouldn’t know exactly where your friends live in the city so as to be able to go right to them. What do you expect to do in York—work at something, maybe?" “Yes, sir; I SupINNB there will be no diffi- culty about getting employment?” she asked, a little anxtously. “Sakes alive. no! I reckon there is allers plenty of wirk in York for anybody at all \\ ill- iug to Work, but, it may take some leetle time to hunt it up. you know: work ain’t a-running gonna on the streets begging people to take . 0111." “ Oh. I do not expect to get it right away." “ And you will want some place to stop, too, while you are looking? Have you got any trade’i‘ “ N o, sir, but I am a good seamstress and can run almost any kind of a sewing-machine; and I am also used to housework." “ You’ll be all right then; you’ll get enough to do and you Won‘t have to wait very long for it, either; and if you are willing to do house— work, why York is full of good places for tidy American girls, ’cos they are hard to get, and at good wages too; but \ hat I was going to say, if you don’t know of any lace to stop, you might come to my wife’s hote where you will be right comforts I do.” Now the idea of goin to a hotel on Fifth ave— nue rather frightened t 0 girl, for she thought ‘1 it would surely be a very expensive lace, and in i her simple, honest way explained t at she was ‘ not very well provided with money and must husband her means. “Oh, my wife won’t charge you much and ‘ you can take some of it out in work, if you , ike,”the old gentleman replied, his face glow- I ingwith benevolent-e. silent prayer to Heaven rose from the rl’s ' heart. Surely Providence was indeed watc ing 3 over h. r foot~teps that thus, at the very be in- ning of her j urney, a friend had appear to aid her. ” Have you any baggage, my dear!" the old 3 man asked, as too train rolled into the depOt at ‘ Jers» City. ' u U, sir.” In her mad haste to get away from the burly 3 stranger who was threatening to arrest and im- 1 H l risou her, she had fled without taking anything ‘ but the clothes which she wore. “ Neither have I, so we will take a street-car.” The crossed the ferry together, and as they pfinerfthrou h the fei'ry gates gu this New Yor s 0, two po cemen, ounging y t e entrance, noticed them. “Hallo,"ssid one. “has Papa Canary icked up a fresh bird, or .s that some decoy due 1" “ One of the old gang, of course; looks don‘t count with that fami . Why, twig the old buffer! Who weald tb nk he had a tongue fit to whsodle a bird notofatreeorcharma‘ stake’ out of the shrowdesv. banker alive!" Strange words in regard to the benevolent- looking old gentleman, but in this world ap. pearanoes are often deceptive. CHAPTER VI. msxsnnn. On South Fifth avenue, not far from can! street is a narrow, dingy two-story-and-attic brick house; on the ground floor is a saloon “,1 over the saloon door a small sign reads; OLD Town. or Loxmou Hour. The saloon was not an inviting-looking one, and ya it had a certain run of custom, as the oscould testify and the lodging-rooms over , he saloon, althoug meanly furnished and not at all calculated to attract a casual customer a sacral:i time, were generally pretty well pat- ton I To the Old Tower of London Hotel, Mr. Ca- nary—Mr. William Canary as he had informed the girl was his name-éalthough if he had been inclined to be oonflden al, he would have said he was much more often called “ Papa ” Canary than anything else)—conductsd the girl. Th0 B Durance of South Fifth avenue, as well as hotel itself, completely astonished the id. 8 She had been to the cit with Daddy Waybit a half-dozen times in the act few years, and so was accustomed to the looks of the lower part of New York, but of the rest she only knew~ throu h the papers and books, and the disre- putab appearance of what she innocently zuppossd was Gotham‘s great street astounded er. But having perfect faith in her ids she en- tered the house “ ituout hesitation?u ’ The Hawks and Wolves of New York. 5 arlor, she was introduced by Mr. Canary to is family. First, there was Mrs. Canary—Betsy, as the 1 old gentleman called her, fondly—a ta 1, broad- shouldered, hard-featured, determined-looking l l woman, middle-rig: d and grav-haired; then the . daughter. Kathleen, a copy of her mother, ex- , ‘ cept that she was not so stout and had fiery red hair; and the son, a slightly-built, consumptive- looking youth, not particularly prepossessing in face, and his appearance rendered still more ugly by the fact that his hair was cropped close to his head. Joseph was the name under which his father introduced him to the country girl, and as she clasped his cold and clammy hand, which was more like the hand of the dead than the living, Helen instinctively felt the same sort of a re- pulsion which she had once before experienced in her life. and that was when after berries in a huckleberry patch in a swamp amid the ines, she had almost trodden upon an ugly lack snake, as long as her arm, and the horrid crea- ture for a moment seemed to design making an attack upon her, coilin its slimy folds together and hissing in menace, ut the girl had a little stick in her hand, and the snake, after a short pause, had glided away as if awed by the wea— n. The old man, whose shrewd eyes seemed to see everything, immediately perceived that his hopeful had not made a favorable impression, and hastened to counteract it. “Joe, run down-stairs like a good fellow and tell the gal to git us a little snack; I’m as hun- gry as can be, and Ireckon. Miss Helen, you wouldn’t object to pick a bit.” The young man took himself oi? at once, and then the old chap, in his bustling way, ex- plained that he had brought Miss Home to stop with them. The girl, though innocent and unsuspecting, was not lackin in that keen tion natural to her sex, an when the ol gentleman made the announcement, she fancied she could discern a peculiar look upon the faces of the mother and daughter which indicated that the were not exactly pleased at the idea of her g up her quarters with them. And on her part she was not impressed with their appearance. Mr. Canary seemed to be a nice old gentleman, but she could not say she liked the ooks of the rest of the family; still, she reflected, that might be because she was so ignorant of the world. “ And, Kitty, can’t you take Miss Home to a room where she will be able to lay aside her things while breakfast is being prepared l” the | master of the house continued. “Oh, yes,” replied the girl, looking at her father in a peculiar way, as it appeared to e en. “Take her right into my room. Kitty,” ob- t served the old lady; “it is on this floor, so that you won’t have to go u stairs.” “ And I do declare, iss Home, if you don't look all best out i“ the old gentleman exclaimed, sympathetically. “ Say, mother. s'pose you bring up a cup of codes, and a bit of toast. and a leetle piece of steak or a couple of nice fresh eggs for our guest, and save her the trouble of go n into the dining-room. He en protested immediately that not for the world could she think of putting them to such laconvenience, but Mr. Canary laughed at the ca. “ Sakss alive, child! it won't be any trouble! Make her a nice, stro cup- of h coffee, mother; have it good an strongfiso that it will tons her right up—thst extra nd of codes, mother, tha you make.” Again the girl fancied she saw that liar expression upon the faces of mother an daugh- ter, but when she looked again it had vanished. “ Well, I s‘poss, then, I had better show Mi- Bome to the room that she will occupy while she remains with us," Mrs. Canary remarked. “ Yes, I reckon that will be best.” “ I am sorry to put the rl began, but the old man intertupted: “ o trouble in the world, we want to make on feel right to home here- just like as if you ad lived with us all your life. you know.” And so she was conducted up-stairs to a small back room tolerably well furnished. . " There, 1 think you will becomfortablo here,” Mrs. Canary remarked. trying to appear as kind and motherly as his, “ and if there is any- thing you want, on’t hesitate to ask for it, just the same as if you were in your own home, my dear. And now, if you will excuse me, I will so 32d get the coffee ready.” Then the old la y ‘Shall I help you of! with our thins-Who daughter asked- she had acconyipanied her mo- ther and Miss ome u stairs. “ 0b. 110. thank you; I will not put you to so much trouble.” “ No trouble at all; of course '0 Wlnt ‘50 do everything we can to make you comfortable. You will find this to be quite a pleasant room, nice and quiet—” And just hers there came the sound of terrific Within the hotel, in a dingy, shabby little thum on the side wall of the afartment. He en jumped to her feet, or she had sat down, and even Miss Canary started, for it real- 2‘. ii you to so much trouble,”. - he! limbs were powerlem, her brain st 1y seemed as if the whole wall was about to tumble in. “ My sakes! how that frightened me! But it isn’t anything but the workmen next door: they are tearing dawn the building in order to put up a new one; that’s all; but before the com— menced it was nice and quiet, and it wil be so again after they get through, so you mustn’t- mind it,” the gi"l explained. Then she said she would go and help her mo~ ther to bring the things up, and withdrew. Left alone, Helen removed her hat and cloak attended to her toilet, and. then looked out of the one solitary window to note the surround- in s. ismal enough they were, too, for of all ugly sights the back yards of the overcrowded houses in the poor quarters of a great city can hardly be surpassed. A sigh escaped from the ’irl’s lips as she looked out upon the miserab e view, where all the surroundings seemed to denote poverty and degradation. This was not the picture of New York that her fancy had painted! Someway, although she had been received in so friendly a manner, she felt melancholy; bar spirits were depressed; a foreboding of misfor- tune seemed to hang Over her; and yet there did not appear to be the slightest cause for it, except that there was something.r about the m0- ther, daughter and son which she did not like, yet the old gentleman certainly was goodne- personified. “ It is foolish for me to harbor these gloomy thoughts, when there is so slight reason,” she murmured, turning away from the window and resuming her seat by the table. “ It is because I have left the place where I was reared, and plunged out into the busy, bustling stream of life, and now I must either swim or sink.” It was some fifteen minutes before the refresh- ments were brought, so Helen had plant of time for reflection. but her thoughts were isturbed half a dozen times at least by the violent pound- ing of the work men in the next building on the wall of her a; artment. The old gentleman and his daughter brought up the coffee and steak, all nicely prepared, and looking very inviting. “There,” said Mr. Canary, arrangin the dishes on the table, “now, if you don’t in nd, I will sit down and pick a bit with you myself.” Of course Helen was glad of his companv, so the father ured the coffee and pro steak, pr ng the girl to eat all the w e. “ I don’t know how the coffee will suit on,” he added; ” it’s pretty strong; but we a1 like it strong, and it won’t do you a mite of hurt, if you Can drink it ;—fact, it will be the best thing you can take; it will brace you right :5!” “It is ve strong,”I-Ielen remark , as tho sipped it, an it had an odd taste, too. “ You ain‘t used to the genuine article, mob- bs.” Canary remarked. “ Take a good swig; it will give on new life!” The gir obeyed, but instead of giving her new life, the potent draught seemed to sap theold. Soon the room swam around her; all control of herself gradually passed away, and she seemed to have fallen into a swoon, and .ye though worked steadily, and she was conscious of all that trans- pired around her. ' CHAPTER vn. AN UNIXPICTlD In”. ALL that could be done for Mrs. Plantagenet was done, but the lady had received a dreadful . shock and the doctor shook his head when ho memmmomingandmado acarefulexam— on. Mrs. Plantagenet was a wom and as she had been thrown beefing-g withaginsid- arable force, by the midnight intruder, the cor- ner of the marble table, against which she had fallen, truly had inflicted a wound to make the old fam doctor look anxious. She ha lingered in a swoon, too, despite all the efforts of the doctor and nurse to revive her, until about ‘sight o’clook in the morning, jusdt after the physician had arrived for his sec- on on . Speculation naturally had been at work in re- gard to how the lady had been hurt, and some ark rumors were in circulation among the saw. vants in the house. All the members of the family were gathered by the bedside of the sufferer when the doctor arrived. There was her son, Denby, with his handsome. noble face; Richard Plantagenet, tall, dark-brewed and with shifting. uncertain ’ gray eyes that rarely looked any one straight in t e face; Viola Plantagenet, with her ligh yellow hair, roguish blue eyes, and fair red a white complexion—good type of Anglo-Saxon beauty, andso different appearance from Richard that a stranger would never have guessed there was any relationship between the two. In addition'to those three there were a coup is of the servants, old and trust servitors who had been with Mrs. Plantagenet or years. “ What do you think, doctor?” asked Denby, .1 man kneeling before it. p :6 The Hawks and Wolves of New York. after the physician had made his examination :nd sat looking at the patient with a very grave ace. The sick woman opened her eyes, and a thrill went through the group at the unexpected sight. “ Oh, aunt i” cried Viola, im ulsively. “ I am very ill, doctor,” rs. Plantagenet murmured, in feeble accents. The doctor had a delicate question to put, he , feared, from what little he knew of the circum- stances, but it was his duty to learn all he could in re ard to her wound. “ Egon must be careful and not excite yourself, my dear madam,” he remarked, soothing] y, after the fashion of his kind. “ I do not think it will hurt me to talk a little.” “ Oh, no, if you will be careful. receive your injury ?" “ There was a robber in this room—” All the listeners started in surprise at this in- telli ence. “ had retired to rest, but I am a very light sleeper, and was awakened by some one 0 en- ing the safe yonder. How did you the consequences— instead of attemptingI to alarm the house at first, as I ought to ave done, I sprung up and endeavored to detain the intruder. He was masked and evidently re- pared to take life rather than be captur , so when I seized him he pushed meover backward; in falling I struck against the table, the shock stunning me. ” “ The safe should be instantly examined, then in order to see what has been taken,” Richard su . ested. ‘ do not think the robber had time to secure anything,” the lady observed, faintly, her strength evidently failing. “ I awoke too uick- ly, but let the matter alone; this hurt wi 1 not amount to anything; do not attem t to discover who the intruder is. There must e no scandal —it would be too dreadful—too awful,” and then her eyes closed wearily. The doctor looked around upon the white faces which were at the bedside, for each and every one felt that the shadow of a dreadful suspicion him over that ill-fated household. “ or mind wanders, I fear,” the doctor re- marked; “it is natural in all such cases as this, where the head is affected.” “ Do you think there is any real danger that this may prove serious?” Richard asked. “ It is impossible to say at resent, but we must hope for the best,” respon ed the cautious ph sician. ut from that time forth, despite the care that I looked, and behe d a ; Without a thought of ' was so freely lavished upon the sufferer, shesunk , slowly into the grave, never again regaining sensibili . And w en the doctor saw there was very little chance of Mrs. Plantagenet’s surviving, he con- suited the two young men. “ Mrs. Plantagenet will die," he said, “and I fear we have been criminally neglectful in not bringing the matter before the pro rauthori- ties. I hesitated, in accordance wi h her wish that the matter should not be touched, but now that she is almost certain to die, I think it is high time the detectives are put upon the track of the midnight rufilan who committed this fiend- ish assaul .” “ agree with you, Doctor Fosdike and I fear that too much time already has been lost,” Den- b exclaimed, warmlv, for now in the hour of mother’speril all thoughtsof the coldnessand misunderstanding which had existed between them had vanished like the dewdrops before the ravs of the morning sun. - “I regret allowing ourselves to be influenced by her wishes that this matter be ke t secret,” Richard observed, regretfully. “ fear we have permitted too much time to elapse, and that i will not be possible now to trace the scoundrel who has committed this atrocious act.” “ I did not for amoment ima ethecasewould have a fatal ending,” the doctor admitted. “ Mrs. Plantagenet was so full of life and health I would have staked my reputation,almost, that she would haverecovsred inaweek. But'human life is a frail thing, and sometimes yields to the slightest jar.” . The authorities had better be informed im- mediately, I presume?” Denby remarked. “ Yes, and I will take that task upon myself. The superintendent of lice and I are old ac- quaintances, and since his affair so far has not created any talk, everybody ardin it as an accident, it is just as well that shou d be kept quiet, for by so the interests of justice can be conserved. will go directly to the chief and ex lain the matter to him; he will t some men on the case, and the first in- imation the world at large will_ have of the matter will be the news of the arrest of the acoundre ” l. “ It is a pity we have not got a list of the con- tents of the safe, in 0rd “Vt thedoctor finished. . “It was not my mother’s habit to keep as); money in it.so far as I know,” Denbyexplain . “She used it almost exclusively for jewelry and private papers.” “ I suppose of course you would know, upon er to discover whether ; hing is missing,” Richard observed, when ‘ examination, if anything had been taken?” Richard queried. “ Alas! I fear not,” Denby replied, shaking his head sadly. “ There has been a cloud between my mother and myself during the last six or eight months, and she has not intrusted to me the particulars of any of her business afiairs. But you—you have been her confidant, more of a son to her than I—do you not know what the safe contained?” “ Oh, no; you are mistaken l” the other ex- claimed. “ i _e never confided any of herafi‘airs to me, except her wishes in regard to a certain ‘ marriage.” 1 “ Don’t speak of it!” Denby cried. “ If it had not been for that, the estrangement would not have existed l” “ Well, gentlemen, I will lay the matter be- , fore the proper authorities, and you may rest 1 assureld the affair shall be managed as quietlyas ib 6. And thus the conference ended. True to his word, the doctor went at once to the oflice of the superintendent of police and laid bierfore him all the particulars of the mysterious a air. The chief listened attentively. “ It is a strange case,” he confessed. “ I regret that you did not let me know of it before.” “ Yes, yes, I am sorry myself; it was an error on my part, I admit, but Mrs. Plantagenet was so anxious that the matter should not be made public; and then, really, I had no fears in regard to her life ; she had received a pretty severe shock, but as she was in the best of health, a strong, robust woman, there wasn’t, in my judgment, hardly one chance out of a hundred against her recovery.” “ And you say now she is certain to die?“ “ Yes, she cannot possibly survive many hours; her death may be looked for at any mo— ment.” “ A deal of valuable time has been lost,” the ofiicial murmured, refiectively, speaking more to himself than to the doctor. “ I regret it, I assure you, from the very bot- tom of my heart, for, of course, I understand this delay will render it difficult for dyou to trace and capture the fugitive; he has ha time to put the ocean between himself and the scene of his crime.” ‘ “ Oh, not a bit of it!" the superintendent ex- claimed, decidedly. “The man is no common rascal, and, from what you as , it is evident he didn’t intend to hurt the old la y; that was prob- ably an accident. You see, he didn’t use a wea- pon—only broke from her grasp, and flung her of! so that he could get away. The man who di the trick is right at hand, but it will bea dif- ficult matter, I am afraid, to bring the assault home to him. These family affairs are the deuce and all sometimes.” .The doctor departed, much puzzled, and very much disturbed. CHAPTER VIII. rill: ACCUSATION. ON the hi ht of the day of the interview be- tween Dr. oadike and the Superintendent of police, Mrs. Plantagenet breathed her.last. The doctor had come in before retiring for the night, and his experienced eye noticed that the end was near at hand. All the family were summoned immediately, for the doctor had a hope that. in the last con- vulsive throes of life, the afilicted woman might revive sufficiently to speak. . ' But it was not so fated; “whiny, with hard- lya last Kai-ting asp, she pa away—soquiet- ly that t e watc are by the bedside were hardly conscious of the fact. . And now that death had come it was necessary to call in the coroner. A jur was got together, and, as often hap- ns an or like circumstances, all the evidence ring upon the case was not brou ht before them. In fact, the affair was shrou ed in the deepest mystery, and had it not been for the in- ured woman’s declaration no one would have s pected that any intruder had been in her apartment, althou h the testimony roved that when the househol were roused by rs. Planta- genet’s screams, and came in haste to her mist. sees, the door of her room was unlocked, and the door of the safe was open, while one of the maids who attended the lady, and auisted her to disrobe for the hi ht, testified that, after-leav- ing the a meat, s e distinctly heard her mis- tress bo lock and bolt the door after she—the maid—had quittod the room; but not a particle of evidence was produced to show that an one within the mansion knew of the presence any ntruder within its walls that night. ' Then, too, as far as could be ascertained, no valuables had been abstracted from the room or saf e. The mid further testified that, after {hitting some valuable jewelr of her mistress nto the safe, Mrs. Plan one had locked it and put the key into her w at, which, in accordance with her usual custom she had put under the head of her bed. in this wallet. too. were some three hundred dollars, for Mrs. Plantagenet had count- ed the money before her. This had not been touched. There were stupid heads on the jury, of course, and one of them reasoned that no one had been in the room, as assumed, but that Mrs. Plantagenet, in a sort of delirium, had got up, unlocked the safe and the room door, and then had fallen, and in falling had struck her head against the table ; but the verdict was that “ Mrs. Plantagenet had died from injuries re— ceived at the hands of a party or parties un- known.” True ttz his promise to the doctor, the super- intenden detailed two of his best detectives to look into the matter, expressly cautioning them to keep their business to themselves and not to reveal, even to their brother detectives, that they were employed on the case; for, as in all such peculiar and difficult cases, the first thing to be done was to throw the guilty party off his guard by getting him to believe that the search had been given up. Thus lulled into fancied security, the culprit would be less cau- tions, and by some word or not give the detec— tives a clew. The first point in the game was to find out what had been taken from the safe, for the chief was satisfied that the masked man had secured what he came after before being disturbed by the waking of the old lady. No valuables evidently, for the jewelry in the lock~up had not been touched ; there must have been, therefore, some other motive for the intru- sion. What was it? Papers l—some important documents, no doubt, and yet no one seemed to miss anything. After the death of Mrs. Plantagenet, Denby, as her 0111 heir, With the assistance of the legal firm who ad always attended to her buxiness, made a careful search among the effects of the dead woman for a will, although the lawyers, in the beginning, told the young _man that they did not think any such thing existed, for they had never drawn any out, and most certainly the lady would never have gone to any one else for such a service. Billcock & Billcock was the name of the legal firm now, but gears ago it had been Billcmk, Livingstone& illcock, forthe judge, Mrs. Plan- tagenet’s first husband, had been one of the part- ners at the time of his marriage. The brothers Billcock, Joshua and Josiah were two old bachelors, sharp, shrewd pieces of Connecticut hardware, keen as razors, close as grindstones, but as honest as the da . To the young man, the elder ner, who al- ways did all the talking, prim, ormal, ramrod— like Joshua, frankly said: “ My dear Mr. Denby, there isn’t any will but of course, as a mere matter of form, we wil ex— amine all the papers left by your lamented mo- ther, but 1 know that we shall not find a will among them. I speak thuspositively for I know exact y what I am talking about. bu the very morning of the day on which she received the injur w hich led to her death, she came down to the o co and had a long interview with me.and the main thing for which she had come was to consult me in regard to a will which shedemgned making. She spoke v'ery freely about the mat- ter, and I then learned for the time that. there was a misunderstanding cristing between on and her. I will not conceal from you, Mr. enby that she ke ver bitterly in regard to curse . She h set her eart uponamurria e tween you and Miss Viola, and she said she had summoned you home to learn your final an— swei‘.” “ Yes, it is true.” “. And, furthermore, she declared that if you did not consent to the marriage, she was re— solved that you should no lon er be as a son to her, but she would make a wil bequeathing to gin only the interest on fifty thousand dol are, vested in Chemical Bank stock, so that you would not starve as long as you lived, but the balance of her property she would dividebetween the on] two livin relatiVes of her dead hus- band, ichard an Viola Plantagenet, giv ing nine-tenths to Viola, with the exception 0 a few small bequests. “ I remonstrated with her as strongly as pw sible against such an un ‘ust will for so I consid— ered it, and as an old fariend of the family, as well as her legal adviser for years, I did not hesi— l tate to express my opinion and pretty Openly, too. contrar to my usuai custom. She was firm-set in t is par , though, and all that I could succeed in do n was to obtain from, her a promise that she won d not do anything rasth —that she Would take time and meditate over the matter before executing the document, for she did you justice, Denby, my boy, and freely 0'11“ you bld been. a! good a son in every re- spect as an mother needed to have, with the exception 0 this one thing, but that to her was all-important. “Now you seewhyI feel so sure that your mother did not leave any will.” Audit seemed as if the lawyer was right, for not the slightest trace of any such document. could be discovered. As her solo heir, then, it was plain that Denby would inherit all, and the lawyers, acting un- der the young man’s orders, immediately took the proper steps to put him in possession of the u I Two ‘weeks more went by. The detectives had been working untiringly, The Hawks and Wolves of New York. '7 ‘ ,. butsofar with little success; and so carefully 1 brought a carriage along; it is outside at_ the l _ “Well, go light on it, captain, for he don’t had they managed matters that, with the ex- i door, and if you care to pay for the use of it, it 1 like the record to be du up. ’ ception of the superintendent, not a soul sus- pected their game, although in various dis- guises the had penetrated into the very man- sion itsel and cunnineg cross-examined the servants. When satisfied that there was no barrier be- tween himself and the fortune left by his mo- ther, Denby sought an interview with Viola. Not a word had been exchanged between Denby and Viola and Richard in' regard to money matters since the untimely death. The two met in the grand parlor. “Viola,” he said, and as he addressed the beautiful girl he took her soft, white hands in , his, ‘if my mother had lived, I am satisfied your future would have been provided for. As my mother‘s son I intend to do no less. This house is your home, of course,as long as you choose to remain, but I shall, in time, give it a mistress, and then it may not be agreeable for you to remain, although you will be as welcome as the sun. All barriers are removed, now, be- tween myself and the girl I loved. She gave her affection, when she thought me only a poor wanderin artist, a Bohemian, hardly able to gain his aily bread, but now I can place my country pear in a setting that will we 1 become her beauty, in a station that she will adorn. But in order to render both you and our cousin Richard inde ndent,I intend, as am sure my mother wou d have done had she lived, to settle upon each of you a hundred thousand dollarsl” ' “Oh!” cried the girl, her bright blue eyes beaming with gratitude, “Denby, you are the most noble of men, and if the woman whom you love does not worship you, it is because she is ig- norant of your true worth.” “I hope she will,” he replied smiling at the girl’s enthusiasm. “ The future has been black enough; but now, thank Heaven, the clouds have cleared away!” The door opened and two stalwart policemen came stalking into the parlor while a group of frightened servants gathered in the doorway. ‘ Mr. Denby Livingstone!” said the foremost. “ That is my name!” “ 1 arrest you for murder!” the man cried, lay- ing his hand upon Denby’s shoulder and produc- ingva pair of handcuffs with the other. ith a wild cry Viola started back. “ Murder! Oh, no, it is imDossible!” CHAPTER IX. IN CHARGE. “ Aaansr me i” cried Denby, utterly astounded by this unexpected event. “ That is what I said, sir,” responded the officer, respectfully, but firmly. " If you are lgr. Denby Livingstone, you are my pris- oner. “There must be some mistake!” the young man exclaimed, much more amazed than ed. “ No, sir, there is no mistake; here is the war- rant ” and the policeman put the legal document into is hands. “You are charged with mur- der, sir.” “ Oh, this is too absurd! With the murder of whom, pray ' “ Mrs. Matilda Plantagenet,” replied the ofli- cer, in a business-like way. A loud shriek came from the white lips of the l at this terrible announcement; then she ainted dead away, while Denby was so horri- fied he could .only stare at the policeman in a dazed sort of way, like a man who had been stunned by a heavy blow. “ I ace of murdering my dear mother?” he stammered, at last, as if unable to believe that he had heard aright. “ Your motheri’breEchoed the officer, who wasi orant of this fact. and much astonished now t at he knew the truth. The servants, rushing to the assistance of the faintin girl, raised her from the floor and placed her upon the sofa. H You see, sir, there must be some in take, for this accusation is horribly ridiculous.” it Here’s the warrant, and that is all we know about it, of course.” replied the 0150913 ‘ “You understand, we have gotto obe orders, sir,” put in the other policeman. ", 0 don’t know anythi but that. At the court things will probably charge, what you as to us may be used against you. So you had tercome along uietly,sir, and the judge will straighten the hul thing out when you at before him." “But to _ paraded through the streets, hand- cuffed like a felon i” cried Denby, all the blood within his veins boiling at the revolting indig- nit . This first policeman looked at the second, and he, understanding what his comrade meant, shook his head. “Well, sir, if you will give us our word as a entleman to come along y, without sin savoring to escape, we not put the brace- lets on you, and as to going through the streets, we thought it likely that a gentleman like your- self wouldn’t like that sort of thing, and so we straightened out, but if I were ; you, sir, I wouldn’t make any talk about the ' matter, because if there is anything in this ' l is at your service.” ' “Thank you, sir: I will see that you shall not lose anything by this kindness,” the young l man observed, gratefully. “ Where am I to be . taken?" “ Before Judge Himmilstein, in Fifty-fourth street.” “ 1 do not know him.” “ Easiest man in the world to get ac uainted ‘ with.” replied the officer, jocosely. “ e’s one i of the boys.” 1' “I presume I had better send for my law- yers.” , “Yes, sir, it would be as well, for this is a , pretty serious charge.” I Denby called one of the sen ants and desired 1 him to “wire” Billtock and Billtock to come to i the Fifty—fourth street police court immediate- l y“I beg your pardon, sir,”said the officer, in t the young man‘s ear, evidently disposed to be ; very friendly, “ but I know Billtock and Billtock 1 like a book, and though they are nice men and 3 good lawyers, and all that sort of thing, they 1‘ ain’t the party you want in this hyer case; you 1‘ want a man that’s got some ‘pull’ with the ; judge, you know. Kissing goes by favor, and E so does law sometimes in a police court. Now, I if you will let me recommend a friend, I can | put you onto the best man in the city. This is ' crinnial business, you know, and you don’t want any realvestate lawyers to handle it.” Denby replied that he would be very much obli ed indeed. “ ed Purchase is the man for your money, then; there’s no sharper criminal lawyer in this city, and he is square to the backbone, too; you can depend upon him every timel” Denby quietly slipped a ten-dollar bill into the officer’s hand, with the injunction to retain Mr. “ Ned ” Purchase as soon as possible. Then, after bidding the servants take the best of care of the young lady, who was slowly re- viving from 'her swoon, in company with the ‘ two officers the young man departed. As the policeman had said. a carriage was at the door, and as the three descended the steps toward it, Doctor Fosdike came along. “ Hallo! what’s the matter?” he inquired, suspecting at once from the appearance of thing; that some untoward accident had hap- pene . “ I, am arrested, doctor, charged with mur— er. “ Murder? Nonsense! What stupid mistake is this? Who have you been murdering!" “ My own mother.” The doctor started as if he had been shot. “Good heavens! Why, this is absurd: but I will go with you at once; I am acquainted with the superintendent of police, gentlemen, and I am sure I will be able to convince him that this arrest is a mistake.” “ The superintendent of police hasn’t anything to do with it air,” the officer remarked, respect- fully. “ In fact, he don’t know anything more about it than you do. The warrant was sworn out in the Fifty-fourth street court.” “ B whom? ’ “I couldn’t really say, sir,” the policeman an- swered; he was a civil and obliging fellow—far su rior to the common run. ‘ The warrant was given to us to execute, and that is all we know about it,” explained the other officer, who was also a decent, civil man. “Ah, I see; it is not the work of the detec- tives.’/’ “ No, sir; I think not, for in that case they would have made the arrest themselves and taken the prisoner to the Central Office.” “Oh, well, it is all right then!” cried the worthy doctor, with an air of relief, for a great wei ht indeed had been lifted from his mind. “ t is some absurd mistake, of course; an examination will clear the whole thin 1gp. Who sits in the Fifty-fourth street co ‘ Jud e Himmilstein.” “The ’s lucky! I know him—have known him well for the last twenty years ever since the time when he first started that little saloon on Third avenue that the police used to make , so much fun about. I’ve gone his bail a dozen times.” The policemen laughed, and then winked mys- teriously at each other. “ I beg your pardon, sir,” said the big metropolitan, who had proved so obli and cod-natured, “but, if I was on, woul n’t say anything about that lee e busi- ness of the saloon if you want to be of an use to this gentleman. The judge is a lee e touchy ’bout those things since he struck lie and got to the top of the sap, and it won’t do a mite of good to rake up the old times when the £31306,de to ‘run him in’ for keeping a low ‘ se. “ It wasn’t his fault: he did the best he could to keep his customers quiet, and he couldn’t help it because he was in an ugly dis- trict and the tough young fellows of the neigh- borhood used to select his saloon for a battle- ground.” “ Much obliged; I wi be overned by your , advice,” the doctor remark . “ Will the ex- ; amination take place immediately?” | “ No, sir; the judge is not on the bench now, and will have to be sent for; and that will 1 probably take a couple of hours at the least.” ‘ “ That Will give me time to see the superin~ , tendent, then: I know he will be annoyed at l this. Don’t be downcast, Denby, my boy; you will come out all right: these little mistakes will happen once in a while, you know. I will be on hand for the examination,’ and then, with a partin shake of the hand, the good old doctor hum away. “That boy commit the murder?” he mue- tered, as he strode down the street-—“ pooh, non- sense! As well might I myself be accused of the deed.” The officers with their prisoner got into the carriage, and away they went for the Fifty— fourth street court. As the officer had stated, the court was not in session when the party arrived there, so the prisoner was consigned to a cell until his Honor could be summoned. The policeman had made a shrewd guess in regard to the opening of the court, for it was fully tWo hours before the magistrate arrived. He came lumbering into the court, very much out of breath. Judge Himmilstein was one of those pro- ducts which can only grow up and flourish in the free air of such a glorious republic as our own. As a poor German lad he had come to this country, without a second shirt to his back; had graduated in a grocery store, then opened a saloon; from that to the proprietorship or a brewery was an easy step; made a fortune; then got into political life and studied for a. lawyer, so as to wipe out the score on the slate of his ear! occupations. He had n admitted to the bar, but had never practiced, nor wanted to; but, on the strength of being a “ lawyer,” he had managed to get elected to 'a police-Judgeship. He was a well-meaning old man, though woe- fully ignorant in many cis, yet Wonder— fully shrewd in others, an , despite the fact that he had been in this country since boyhood, he still spoke with a strong accent. He took his seat upon the bench, looking, for all the world, With his jolly red face, flaxen hair and heard, like a god of ager, who had wan— dered by some mistake from the signboard of a saloon into the court-room. “ Order in der gourt!” he cried. CHAPTER X. CANARY’S IDEA. A irons: dreadful position for a human being to be placed in can hardly be imagined. The girl was apparently in a state of total insensi- bility, unable to move either hand or foot body and brain alike affected by the powerfu nar- cotic administered in the cofiee, yet, in reality, she was conscious of all that was going on around her, and, despite her innocence and want of knowledge of city ways, she understood what had transpired. She had been" drugged; the tenevolent-looking old man was one of those human wolves who prowl through the world dis- ' as lambs. But why‘had she been selected for a victim! What was the object of this fiendish plot? She was soon to learn. As we have said, although apparently uncon- scious, she had a complete understanding of all that was said and done—could even see all that was passing around her. 0 As she sunk back in her chair, and relapsed slowly into the statue-like state produced by the drug, the benevolent look upon the face of the old man changed to a fiendish grin. “ Aha Katy~didl I never saw your dear mammas little drink work so beautiqu be- fore!”he exclaimed to the daughter. “ 'hy it is really miraculous! I hope that she hasn’t made the dose so strong as to kill the girl, though. If sucha thing as that were to hep pen, it would be mighty ugly for us. These nfernal policemen haven’t the highest possible 0 inion of me, and it would be just nuts to 3 an, to lay me by the heels on a charge of mur— er. “ Oh, you needn’t be afraid of that, daddy!” the girl remarked. “ You leave Mother Canary alone to at up the ri ,ht does. it isn’t the first time she fixed a s eeping drau ht.” ‘ And then the two looked at eac other and laughed, the cruel sound seemin to sear the very brain of the young girl, so he pics: in their wer. po" Well, well, I suppose it is all right, but the girl weakened under it so quick I was afraid mebbe it was too stron ."' “ Shall I call mother “ Yes, tell her that ev is O. K.” The daughter soon returned with the old wo- man, and the hangdog-looking young man came slinking in behind her “Pretty quick work,” the woman observed, with a fiendish smile, “ but I reckoned that. as C5 1116 flaWKS and WOlVGS OI New York. she was young, strong and tough, she would need an extra dose, so I put in about half as much again as I usually do.” “ But isn’t there danger that on have given , her too strong a dose?” inquired] the old man, - unvasily. l “Oh, no, not the slightest; in six or eight 1 hours she will be all right a sin and none the ‘ Worse for her soothing; draug t.” "' But I say, fatlicr, what are you up to, any— 3 way i" demanded the young man, stepping for ward, an‘ with a grin of admiration on his ugly fe ,tures surwying the beautiful face of the \'i_:tim. “lid 1*) something that concerns you more near yi ion anybody," the father answered. “ .011, l reckoned 3 0'1 had Same game afoot thll y ill gave no the signal 1201100118 the gal,” , remarked the (1d woman, “ out I don’t exactly I undirs'and what you are rriving at, for she. don’t look like a pigeon who would pay much for the plucking.” “ Oh, you are right there, mother; I don‘t be- i lieve the girl has got many valuables; but I say, she’s a beauty, mn'r. : he?" ‘ Yes, she’s good-looking enough.” “Nothing to brag on.”ndded the daughter, spitefully, \rith asideway glance in the mirror at her own homely lace. “Ain’t got quite so handsome hair as yours, you pretty gazelle: and you beat her all to death on freckles,” was the son’s sarcastic sally. The young lady favored him with a vicious look as she retortcd: “ It" I had such lzair as you’ve not, I would go and dr0wn myself, and as for freckles, you had better look at your own face." “My lambs, you must not quarrel,” inter- the elder Canary, “ and least of all about this girl, who from this time forth will b) one of our little family.” A iruntcf surprise escaped the mother, and the son and dang ter echoed it. “It is a grand idea.”l ld Canary continued, "and it came intoiny lwnl when 1 got into conversation with her, on tha train. Just think how useful we can make a yothr and beauti- ful girl like this, with llu‘ innocent look and ways.” v “ h, that is all foolishness!” Mother Canary exclaimed. “ You will never be able to get such a girl as this to act as a decoy duck.” “ My dear mother, I have accomplished some pretty diflicult feats in my time, as the police records of three counrri-s will testify, and l have thought of a little plan by which we can make this bird do our bidding, although of course it will take time. Our hopeful, here, 'needs a wife; he hasn’t been the same man at all since he lost his girl by her being sent to State Prison for ten years, and from all ac- counts I i'eckon she will never come out alive, for they say she is dying of consumption. Now my litt 9 game is to call in our esteemed friend, the renowned Mr. Otieiliah Ketterwall who is undera cloud just now,on account of some little money matters C(iunf'cted with his late occupation as justice of the peace, and have him tie the knot betnern our boy and this girl; then, when she is Joe’s Wife, it won’t takeussbvery great while to break her into “Yes, yes but isn’t it taking a big risk?" asked the old woman, cautious and suspicious in all things. “ How so? Even if she does try to kick up a ‘ Iow after the thin is done, u'Iiat good will it do her? Can‘t we a “Vicar tout the fell in love with our charming son at iii st sight, and wasn’t , contei t until a minister w: -i summoned to unite l them in the holy bonds of wedlock, and won‘t Ketterwall, in his sleek, butter-won’t-melt-in- my-mouth way, take his oath that she did not ' object v hen be united her in marriage to this ‘estims' lie young mani’ ” and here the speaker imitated th ) ranting tone of the disgraced miu- l later of the law so cleverly that the rest could , not avoid laughing. I “Yin, but won t her folks be apt to take up I the matter and make it hot for us?" "Not the :1 htest danger of that. mother,” . assur.d the o scamp with a sly chuckle. “She is fin Orphan, and bain't any relatives. . ‘ You st 0, put her through her paces on the 5 cars in regard to that, and us was so close- ‘4 mouthed about it, too, that I have got the idea ; there is somt thing wrong about her. She didn‘t have any baggage, not even a hand-bag, and that's a very suspicious circumstance, for girls , as well-dressed and ladylike-looking as this one i don‘t generally go out into the World to seek ' their fortune absoluter emptyohanded. I have an idea that she is running away' and, muy- = be, there is some good reason for her gettin out. If that is so. she will not kicx up much 0 a fuss when she lines we have got‘ her in our clutches.” . The rest nodded , this was good, sound reason- l mg. “ S‘ I go through her pockets, father?” ‘the girl suggested. “Perhaps she may have acme, letter, or someth ng that will tell us about or . “ You are my on n :enrle child 1” the old ru- . ca} responded, pathetically ; “ that suggestion to ‘ go through her ’ proves that you are a chip of the old block." “Hel me put her on the bed, Slinky,” or- dered the girl. By this Well-befitting appella- tion the young man was known among his asso- ciates. H e obeyed, and after the insensible form was placed upon the bed, with skill born of experi- enc —for the girl, despite her youth, was a pickpocket of the first degree—~this notorious daughter of a still more notorious sire exam— ined the victim’s person and produced her treas- ures. From the pocket in her dress came the well- * word wallet,end from her bosom the letter from her] m r u llli'h She cherished so carefully. “ Not much of a haul,”’the old man observed, as he (xamincd the contents of the valid; and displayed upon the table the scanty store of money which it contained. “She was honest with me, though, for she gave me to under- stand that she was not well fixed, finuncmlly. Well, we don‘t want tiiai; it isn’t worth tak— ing,”and he commenced to put the money back into the wallet again, but the daughter interrupt- ed him. “Say, father, what do you want to do that for?" she prUtOrth. “ Well,why not?” “S’poso she cuts up ugly when she finds out she is in a trap and goes to walk her chalks, won’t it be mighty handy to have that little change in her pocket?” “ Exactly—exactly: you are quite right, and I will take care of it, although I reckon she ain’t going to have a chance to get out, if I know myself,” the old man remarked, pocketing the money. The letter was then examined; it was the brief note which the girl had received from her lover, and this at once gave this precious family an idea of why she had come to New York. “I’ll take care of this," said the old man; “ there is no telling but what it will prove useful one of these days,‘ and he carefully stowed the letter away in 1: Is capacious pocketbook. “And n0w, EOUDV," he continued, “run for the justice and we'll have you jomed to this lIieauty in no time, and that is the kind of man ainl CHAPTER XI. A. MIRACLE. THE young man, after a gloating look at the beautiful girl who was so soon to become hisvic- tiin, departed. “ We'll darken the room by closing the blinds when the justice comes, and you two can hold the girl up between you, so that if our dear brother ever has to give any ev1dence about the matter, hecsn do so with a clear conscience,” old Canary observed. “ And now, since the girl is all right and won’t need any attention until Slinky and the justice get back, I’ll trouble you two to carry those thin s down-stairs, so that I can make a decent brea fast.” The women proceeded to comply with the re- quest, when there was a crash and a bang against the wall that fairly seemed to shake the ouse. “Confound the fellowsl” exclaimed Cans , “they’ll knock the whole side of the house n with their carelessness. I think they are all drunk two-thirds of the time. ” ' The three a t oncequitted the apartment, never even taking the trouble to cast a parting) glance at the girl,so complete] satisfied were t ey that the potent drug would ind her as though she was lettered b an iron chain. And poor elen, in her enforced slumber, comprehended all that had passed. She under- stood thst she was in the hands of wretchcs as cruel and merciless as any painted save as of the Western wilds. A miracle alone coul gave her. And the miracle camel The very precaution which Mother Canary taken to increase the dose which she usually gave, defeated the purpOse for which it was in- tended; instead of throwing the girl into adeeg, stupor-like sleep, to continue seven or ei hours, it induced a sort of cutalepsy, wh ch a violent exertion of the will, and the excite- ment of her perilous position quickly began to con uer. Little by little she recovarsd consciousness; the color came back to her lips and cheeks, the brightness to her eyes, and t c strength to her limbs. She rose, with feeble action to a sitting p0... ture, then gained the floor and half-staggered to a chair. She was still weak and her stops uncer- tain. , What was she to do! The terrible vampires, intowhose hands she had fallen, were liable to return at any moment, and how could she esca them? In agony of min she pressed her hands to her throbbing temples, her head aching unit it would burst. “ The door is unlocked but if i attempt to reach the street will I not be discovered before I can do so?” Her heart sunk as shereflected thstthese mon- sters had robbed her of all her scanty store of 1 money, and that, if she succeeded in getting out she could only roam the streets, penniless and friendless. But anything was better than remaining to be- ! come their victim, and evpry time she thought of being made the bl‘lUH of the evil-looking, snake- like son of the old man-si;ark,.a chill of horror [ pervaded her frame. I “ At any risk I must try it!” she excl: imed i rising to her feet, and putting on her hat and c oak. So confident had been the vultures that their victim was completely in their pow”, they had not taken the trouble to remove her outward garments, ( r even to lock the door. Two ideas only weie in the girl’s mind; first to get out of the house as soon as osszble, and then t ) make her way to the meeting-place ap- pointi d by her lover in his letter. ‘- i will find the obelisk and wait there until ho corms,” slieninrmured, as she opened thedoor and poured out into the e1 try. All was still; as far as noise was concerned there did But seem to ho a soul in line house. “ I must \ enture,”she decided. But just as she s‘epped over the threshold— ignorant of the fact that not only was the front door lvelow Securely locked and the keys in Mrs. Cunary’s pocket, but the old woman’s pet dog al- ways was roaming about the lower part of the house, and the moment she set fOot upon the there wasa terrible crash, and near] one-half of the side-wall, against which the ed from which she had just arisen, was placed, came tumbling in upon that piece of furniture, crush- ing it to the floor! A shudder passed throcgb the girl’s frame as she reflected upon the horrible death which she most surelv would have met i the had remained upon the bed. ' The careless workmen had loo . But the signs of suff‘eri so visible in the face. of the it] interested the. car, and he had been watch ng for some time, determined to speak to her if he got a goal chance ' Sowhen besaw her rise, and then stag er, , weak through faintness, he came up to her m- mediate ' l . . . . f . At a fines Helen caught sight ofliis "uniform, ' clclimpiget entdatli h; wins an ofllcer,l;ind, instantly, . t on s o e ur yssranger w ohhad , . ened er so loudlydown in the country across her mind. ' She was about to be arrested, and up doubt ' lurked somewhere in the background. “ Oh. for Heaven's sake let me-‘gol" she ex- claimed, wildly. “ I have never injured any one in all my life!" . She assayed to step forward, but she was so weak unnerved and trembling with excitement that, had it not been for the support which the policeman instantly afforded her with his arm, she would most surely have’ fallento the ground. ' ‘ “Don’t be alarmed miss; I ain’t u-soing to] , hurt you ' but I say, what on mm is the matter with youi Why, you ain’t hardly got strength to stand I” a _ “ You won’t arrest mel" the girl asked, with trembling li , sounnerved h , thoughts of the danger who she thought threatened her that “ Lord ove yer heart. my dear, I guilt got no " call to arrest you that 1 knows on; but‘what is the matter? Are you sick?" ‘ ‘ " I am not well. . V I h _ . “ No, I reckon you ain’t: you are as whiteasa ghost! I’ve had 'my peepers on you for. some time, seeing ‘you sitting here all alone, and I was a-thinking o ain’t a very forward (map, .nd 1 never 1 kl“,th interfere in other psi ple’s business, but when 1 seed that {con could liarleV walk I thought it ’bout time put my car in. “ I think I am better now.” And she made an effort to walk with the sup- grt of his arm,,but had not the strength she h ought, and he was obliged again to steady or , l “ If the will had come to light we ' l for a long , speaking to you long ago; butifl'fl. “.Now, miss, take a friend’s advice and don’t- The Hawks andh‘Wflolves of York. strength—you’re sick—I kin see lain enou h in your face that on are sick, ut, Lord less ,vouil" you don’t ook half as sick as you really are “ No, no: I am not reallysick; I am only weak and faint for lack of food,” she murmured, the confe~sion escaping from her almo t before she knew it. “ What, hungryl”exclaimed the officer, in pro- found asmnism. out, for as the gill was well- dressed and refined-looking,he had never thought of any such thing. “ h es, sir; I have not tasted food since morn- ing. ’ “ Blaz‘ s you haven’t!” The, policeman was so amazed that he could hardly find words toexpress his feelings. “ And, then, I only had about half a cup of COlfi" ." “ Nu-e, solid kind of food that is to wrestle with lul‘ a whole day!” “ I felt taint while sitting on the bench, but I had no idea 1 “as so weak until I got up and tried to walk.” “ The gal will die before I can get her down to the arsenal unless I can give hersomething to brace her up a leetle,” the policeman thought, taking a good look around. “ There ain't a soul in sight, and I reckon [can risk it,” be c intinued. Then he took a small flask from his pocket. “ Say. miss, I’ve got a leetle drop of whisk here, and if you takeaswallow or two it wifi help yr u to keep up for awhile. Don’t say any— thing, you know, to anybody that I give it to you, 'i-os it might make trouble for me.” Haidlv knowing what she did, the girl took a good swallow of the potent liquor from the flask of the kind-hearted policeman, and the stimu- lant seemed to put new life into her upon the instant. “ Aha!" exclaimed the ofiicer, perceiving that the cordial had been of use, “ that is the kind of stqu to make a man’s hair curl l" And he took ad“: of the whisky himself, then returned the to his pocket with an- other meml’glance around. “ Whisky the right kind is as good as meat and drink sometimes, with a suit of clothes threwn in.” " It seems to make me feel better.” it gum be able to get home now, miss, I sup- .“ Home!” ' ' And melanchol indeed was the way in which she nounced t a word. “ 110,1 have not.” “ Well, that’s rough! But you‘ve got friends?" - ' - “ Only one, and I have been waidng here all day expecting to see him, for he was to com. to me here in front of the obelisk.” . Sofaint and dispirited was the girl that she. did not attempt concealment of the motive which had induced her to remain in the Park alldaylongl. . ' ' A law w istle escaped from the lips of the hind officer, who had become ‘deeply interested in the unfortunate maiden. -. v ' It was the same old story, he then htr-the tale which begins with vows of love an eternal fidelity, and winds up with doertion, disgrace anddeath. ~ .- “ And he didn’t come?" thema asked, gentlv, a suspicious huskiness in his voice. . ' ' ‘ He was a married man with a" little family, and his eldest, a girl about ten years old, was. beginning to show signs of- blouoming into a‘ veritable beauty: in his. imagimtldn he thought that is the event of anything happening to him, his child might some gdaycome and wander around the Park, waiting with a sick "heart to:- the lover who newr tomes. - '- " as No, 81]..” . O ‘ “ What time did you expect to meet him!" ‘ ~ “Betw ‘ ntwelve and one.” . ~ v -‘ “ And 193- ’bont eightlnow 1” cried the “ cop,” with a guttnral exclamation—a cross‘between an oath and a groan. “ Don’t you know where he lives!” V f‘ No, sir." “ Well, do you live in the city?” “ £10, sir; have just come from tlm coun- he officer was sure now that his surmise was correct, and that the maid was one who had loved “ not wisely, but too well.” ' country!” - .. Go backl thought Helm—go back to fall into the hands of that coarse and brutal stranger who was pursuing her as though she was a gimbal, guilty of murder! No, she had rather e. . ‘ ' i “ I have no friends m whom to go; I am all alone in the world l” “ This is about as rough as they make ’em 1” .10 policeman muttered. “ Mighty bard lines min, but if you’ve got a laetle money, you will heable to find shelter somewhere until you kin get time to turn ’round.” “ I have not a penny in the world; I fell into the heart (1 some wretched people this morning try that ag‘in; you can’t do it; you ain’t got the I - the gruff tones struck a chi 'tirely. when I came to the city, and they robbed me of everything I had ; it was not much, but it would have kept me fora week or two until I could have found employment.” “ No home, no friends and no money l” the Stile,“ murmured. “ What on earth is she to o?’ And then, as he pondered over the sad story, an idea came into his head. The girl had spok- en in such a dull, listless way—due t - the poten- cy (f the strong liquor which she had swall0wed —that it seemed as if her mind was affected, and the policeman had come to the conclusion that her troubles had upset her mental balance; so his thoughts ran: “ A leetle cif‘ lier nut, I reckon, and perhaps the best thin i can do for her is to ‘ run her in,’ where she WI 1 be taken care of; it won’t do to let her wander round the city in this hyer con- dition, ’cos it she don't fall into bad hands and isn’t taken to some den, she will be mighty a t to find her way to the river and make a hole in tile water; then there’ll be another item for the newspapers ‘ Beautiful girl found drowned, and nobody knows nothing about her.’ “ Say, miss,” he said, to the girl, “ I guessyou had better come along with me. I’ll take you down to the arsenal to the sergeant and he Will be able to do something for you. You can’t stav here all night, you know, and if you haven't any place to go, I don’t see what else you can do. And you have got to have someihing to eat, you know, or you Will die; you can’t go on in this way.” “ No, I suppose not,”she replied, hardly know- ing what she was saying, for the fumes of the liquor had now mounted to her head and her brain was terribly confused. “ Take my arm and come along; the quicker younget a good square meal into you the bet- ter. Helen went with the man willingly enough, for she did not for an instant imagine that she was under arrest. But such was the fact, and the policeman took her straight to his head-quarters, the arsenal, where, behind a desk, at an officer whose eneral appearance was extremely unprepossees- n . 5‘ Hallo, what's this!” he exclaimed, as the policeman conducted the girl to the front of the oak and then retired to one side. Helen surveyed the serfieant anxiously, for to her hegrt.‘ . CHAPTER XV. Barons: run Jones. It! in the Park liceman the unfortunate girl had found a f end the. man at the arsenal turned out to be a different sort of fellow on. ,He was not the officer usual] -in char _,hut a stranger put in his place or a few ys. . ». “ A knave dressed up in brief authority." To him the beautiful country girl was but a' common creature. a little the worse for liquor, and, perhaps somewhat weak in mind, who was to be dis of as soon .as ble. ._ ' To the officer’s kindly ta e be turned a. deaf ear. .He, could not be imposed upop any 1m- probable’story. “ Nothing to eat,’ w on it was plainly'to be months]; she had had sbmething to drink, and the unhappy officer did not dare con» fees that he had given the girl a sup of liquor for fear she might faint on his hands. ' “ Take" her over to the Fifty-seventh street court and give her in charge as a v_ rant found wandering‘about the Park!” cried he oflicial, , sternly, and as the harsh sentence dld 'not seem to affect her the self-important man in authority was satisfied his impression of her character and ‘ condition'wasquite correct. There. was no helg'for it and with a muttered imprecation upon't e h of the oficial brute, the oficer departed with his prisoner, and took her to the Fi tyeseventh street court, but tarried on the way at a little eating-saloon, where he in- sisted upon his charge taking an oysterstew and drinking. a cup‘ of codes: a proceeding which wonderfully revived her. ' ‘ -- -' He tried to soften the matter down as much as possible. ' “ The boss was rather cranky to-night,” be ex- lained. “ I'don’t know much about him, but om what I’ve seen I think he is the most ob- stinate man when he gets an idea into his head that I ever ran across. But. after all, _ rha it is the best thing for yon. You won’t p8 ve to I * 'Sloe out in the at t ' u Cm“ you so back to you friends in the I. ree s, and when morningcomes you ll feel all right. Here’s a couple ,of dellars to help you along. You’d be welcome to more, but it s all I’ve got.” The girl’s heart was touched by this kimi- nesa, and she protested she could not take the money. “ 0, it’s all right! Call‘it a loan, yep know, and when on get your p again you kin pay it back. he Judge wi ' be pretty sure to dis- charge you in the morning, if you tell your story all right and say that you have money to take care owourself, as you have you know: two dollars ii a good way in ew York if on know how use it. T ere’s some lace ;hout town somewherss, Friendless Girls’ ome, or something of that sort, I think they call it, I I Ft Would be a lovely old World if each man went l parted, his la~t Words being one of cheer and en- 'the box; she had been looking for the friendly ‘ ‘while the irl looked at him understandinga, .f'.» little what meant as thong ghehad, Wendi: ' Choctaw. " i ‘ ' ' where they take girls in who are looking for work and give ’em meals an’ lodgings for five cents apiece. I’ll find out where it is tonight and come down to the court in the morning and let you knovV.” “i never, sir, shall be able to repay you for this kindness!” the girl stemmered. affected to tears by the goodne~s of this u'tei' stranger. “Oh, that is all 0. K.; that is w: at we are ut in this world for, to help eat-l1 other along. into paddle his own canoe and let l he or her fel- low sink. I’ll be ’round in the niorn-ng; don’t be afraid: keep a stiff upper lip; you’ll come out all right.” The man performed his mission and then de- couragement. But fate had not yet vented all her spite upon the head of the forlorn girl. To anticipate : the good-hearted policeman was not able to return in the morning, for on his way back to the Park be came upon a couple of footpads, who had waylaid a drunken gen— tleman, and were endeavori‘ng to secure his valuables. The ofiicer sprung to the rescue, and the ruf- fians. being cornered. shewed fight; they were armed, and did not hesitate to use their weep pone. A desperate encounter ensued; the officer was game to the backbone and clung to his prisoners until assistance arriVed , but mceived such severe wounds as to necessitate his being carried to the hospital, and so he did not appear in the morn— ing as he had promised. Judge Himmelstein was on the bench; the reader has already made the acquaintance of this rather peculiar Dutchman, but it must bere- membered that the events detailed in a preced- ingchapter which took lace in the judge scourt, occurred some two wee s later, for it was on the very evenin of the robbery of Mrs. Planta- genet’s safe t at Helen Home slept in durance vile, locked up like a felon in a cell. We have retraced our store in order to take up the for- tunes of the gir . The judge was not in a very good hulhor that ‘ morning. He had been taking a “ ii er " in Wall street—acting u u some “relia le” in- formation that a stock- roker friend had kindly given him—and upon looki over his morning paper had beendisgusted to ver that hewas - on the side of the market and about a thousand d rs out of pocket. Small mercy had he thht day for any of the unfortunate wretches brought before his august tribunal! . Helen was sent lastof all and his Honor the . ju , with his nd on Wall street, cud ing his rains as to how he should retrieve his barely more than noticed that shewas a girl and tolerably well-dressed. » . ,, “ V’at ish der shargei”, 1 , l “ agranc ,found wandering in Central Park, . intoxicated, responded an officer. I; , “Oh, no, no, sirl” cried Helen,startledinto speech atrthe horrid alienation. ,, , . “ Silence in der gdu'rtl” thundered the. judge, glaring at her with wrath in his judicialéyp. _. The girl shrunk timidiy back in one cern'er of face of the honest Park policeman,and failing, to discover him amid the motley crowd __tha ' lounged in the court-room, felt as t "ough shewas . 1 without a friend in the world. ' ' ' . , The judge, satisfied with the impression, which ' he had made, relaxed his frown and condernd-__ ed‘t({7allk:t t" to i” ' " ‘e gesomeings sa .. , “ I! Ho, sir," responded HZlen, timidl‘y... She‘ had been so sternly rebuked before for ventnri ‘ ,_ = todeclare her innocence she thought itbettern : to t the offense. , -, v, . ’ “ all, ten tollars.” - ' . ' ' . 1 ' _ “ Ten dollars! what does he mean, sir!” ‘asked' the girl of the policeman, bewildered. . r~ “ Wh , you are fined ten dollars.” “ An will I have to pay: it?” is You bet!” ‘ ‘ _,_ r; , “ But I hav’n’t ten dollars in the‘yvorldl' . . , ' " “Can’t ante, and passes 12min ' “5670615133 :- i-'> u: M 4‘3, +l?1";x a .. .‘ fr'J‘“. dge had his eyflvmjhenlgl’DarM‘norn ticed t econversation.":""<:«; ;: 2. Me. :2?“ ish it?’:‘h38 asked. ' r _. o mone u even!!! _. - tighten. ’ “ Oh, vell, {en days und dflsf‘and, den.”. “ What does hemean hythat, sir?” “ Why. you are sent up“ to the. Island for. ten. dan_B]“kwell’s, you know, where the prison 4‘ is. Ain’t youfi f” I 3,. .3 , “ A prison-l" muttered the unfortunate v , with white lips and a terrible terror tagging, ., her heart. ‘ w “ But I haven’t done anything, sirl" die pleaded. ‘ _ N, “ In course you have—drunk and disorderly; ‘_, you’re fortqu that he didn‘t send you up her six months,” responded the officer, coarsely. , ; “ It’s «sky for you that the jud is in a m} f ,' humor this morning, or you have gets, ., - _ I: 10% e . . . u .. e $1 only stared blanklg, for the words... . seemed eahollow mockery her. ' " . tie ‘- -, The Hawks and W’olves of Yor1 . To prison—she, so young, so innocent of all wrong-doing! It did not seem possible! Wim '- eVi! star satin her house of life? Ju~t a: this moment a short, thickset and very fat man, with a. fiery red face, iron—gray hair and heard, who had been standing at the rear of the court i oom, came to tuc front. . “ H. llli 0n, judge, a moment,” he said, nodding familiarly to the justice, like an old acquaint.- anCe. “ l tllan I know this young woman, and I Will piy her fine.” “ How you vash,senator? You settlesder line, ch?" said the judge, snaking hands with the old gentleman wi' o greut Cordiality. “ Yes, I know her; nice girl; gets a little off once in a while. You See, a. few glasses of beer gces rig-st t ) her head and upsets her.” “ i) .i. 15h so; feefty or sixty glasses fixes nw! How i~h all dul‘ po 8?” " Lively; we‘ll clean things next election.” “Lo k you out for me at der Albany, you know, eh?" whispered the judge. “ All right ; if anythin fat comes along,I will throw it in your way. fiere‘s your ten.” “ Dat iah all ri ,vht,” res nded thejudge. push- ing the bill back, yet w th a sort of a wolfish glare at the roll of notes that the politician dis- played. “ I remit der flue.” “Thank you: l will do as much for on one of these days.” The “senator” nodd to the 'dge, th~~n beckoned to Helen to Come out. lien she did so, he placed her arm within his own and left the court-room. She went blindly, “resistingly. not knowin what else to do. “I tell you! it is lucky recognized you!” he remarked, after they got into the street. CHAPTER XVI. ran DETECTIVE’S Masrnn. In a pleasant front room of the Bravoort Home, the New York hotel so much favored by our English cousins, sat 'a portly, well- proaervod, middle-aged gentleman, whose gon- oral appearance indicated that he was a son of Albion. He was dressed with scrupulous care, had a pleasant face, and yet there were some ugly lines a nit which indicated that ho had had hissharo caroand toil and had not passed unscathed through the world. In his hand he hold a telegraph dispatch, and ho had read it over again and again with a thoughtful air. “Lona Bianca Nsw Jana-r, 1 Tuesday atternoon. l “ '1'. tin. Marnnw Gannowcaorr. Basvoon‘r Housn, law Yoax m:-- , _“ I l';aV;)rlll:}t‘I‘le unc t: earth; at“!!! f’lloscli‘ixgd MIG -ll . X me n W O ' rrow noon at thgelftos’t. £18151; (1) p y “ mama." " The doucod ass !” tho gentleman muttered, at- (a' he ha-i road the telegram for tuo fourth time. “ Takes twenty odd words to say what he could have easil put in ton. ‘ Up tomorrow noon at to htost, and that was throo days ago, and not a of the rascal havo I soon. Not only that. but can’t reach him, for whsn ho didn 1: come I wirod him in ordor to soo what was tho mat— tsr, and tho tamph is notified ms that figcan’t find ha can have happened to o idiot!” At this mcmont thsro came a knock at the door, and in answer to tho tleman‘s sum- mons a servant ontorsd, boar a card on a diver. “Gentleman to see you, sir.” Hr. Garrowcrofl took up thocard and on it road tho name of tho veryman whom ho had had in his thou ht . ~ “Gayaway uttlcbud—ohow him up, it you so. Yivs minutes later the burl stranger who had as ailrightod the country gir with his arrogant firsats entered tno apartment. . “flow :3: do?"t “gang‘s; yr. Hatfnogud, grinning co ; ‘ on ex- tosoo mo. will bota hat!" y “Woll, sir, would lose your hat,” ro- mmiod tho er, with chilling tones, “for I expect to soc ou—havs boon waiting for you for three who days and wondering what on earth had become of on." “ Tho ht I was lost, reckon.” and than this load- gentleman ind ad in a vociferous “Ha! hai"asit ho thou ht twasagood joke under cover of his he helped himself to a chair. “ I do not soo any cause for morrimont, sir!" achimsd tho Englishman, sharply. “I ro- cdvod your dispatc throo days ago; boro it is' and I have boon sxpocting you ever since, an new that have come, whore is tho priao whose ca you so confidently predict in fills?” the speaker tapped the telegram with his finger. “ Wail, you soo, my lord—” “I am not a lord. sirl” interrupted tho other impatiently, “and I wish to Heaven you would calling mo my iordl" ‘ OI coursol Oh, I undorstsudl"and Mattie- bnd put his to e in his check, then winkod, mysbriously. ‘ It’s all right- a wink is as good as a nod to a blind horse. I sha’n’t forgot again h’ut it jest slips out by accident, once in .a w ‘0 “Will you stop your nonsense and go ahead? You have failed, I presume?" " Fdlii‘dl No, sir! ’ cried Muttlebud, theatri- cally. “ As the felier in the lay says——‘ in the bright lexicon of (layaway uttlebud thar’s no sich word as fail? ” “ The fellow in the play, as you elegantly ut it, doesn’t say a Word about any Muttlebud; ut et on.” “ 1 will; I have succeeded at every p’int ’i-ept one. Let me show you, ’cording to the iii- structions.” Then with a flu rurish he drew from his breast— pocket a large memorandum-book, upon one of the Covers of “him, in bright gold letters. was the inscription, "Gai away Mutllebud, Private Detective,” opened the book and read aloud: “ ‘ )londay»~' well the date don’t signify. ‘ En- gaged by Mr. Mathew Garrowcroit on a secret mis- siou. A girl wanted, snout 8]}? wet. eais old, de- sc lptiou. (guessed at. not cer air) rai er tall, light broiin halr, blue ev es. roll and wblt~ camplexion, looks l. . can Enrllsliglrl. Name. Hrlei , other name unknown. and not material. Su pos d to b - living With a farmer somewnere near rung Branch New Jerse Name of farmer uiicerlain,but something like \ aylsnd or Way band.‘ “ That is all correct, isn’t it?” “ It is." “ ‘ I found the gal—ham , Helen—blue eyes. but dark brown hair lnsii ad of llxht brown—led and white complexion all right; does look like an Eng- lish girl Bromht u.- i y a farmer i arm-d Timothy W iybit always been ca lei Iii—l nWsybit and so - p041 (1 by ih inei hoors [0 be the old man's dang - ter. but a short t me ago the farmer let out that she wasn‘t his da hter; some little mystery about the child apparent y. Old man‘s story is that he found her when a baby in New York in a bass e1. evidently deserted by her parents, and ms! is all he knows snout her. The neignbois, how ver‘ a! e not satis- fied with the explanation, and bias the old coat is not telling the mth. Mystvr 'bout the old man; poor farmer, mean, mlsv rable arm, vet he manages to get along and pay his debts: cvorybodytzdnks he has an income indepr ndent of the farm. and a good many poo lc think he eta money on account of the chi d rom some y who is paying him tor keeping it.‘ " How’s that, governor? Didn’t I strike tho right gal first lick oh?” ‘Yes, yes, no doubt about it!" the English- man exclaimod, ovidently excited and nervous. “ It is tho tfir! for a thousand pounds.” “Ean y what I said; my mutton for a million I” “But how was it that you wore going to bring her and yet have not? I resume you haven‘t, or you would havo sai something about it.” “ No, I haven’t got hor " tho datootivo ad- mitted, with rather a shaop air. “ Well, that doosn’t matter; 1 did not instruct you to brin tho girl. 02 courss l have no authority in a romisss at t; that will take timo. It is a right as long as I know when she is, so that I can put my hands upon bar at any momont.” “ Was]. the fact is, govornor. you can‘t do it, exact]u d,” tho man rejoined. so 1” Thou r. Huttlsbudhadto lain. Bo had formodanicolittloplanto sgiritoooms to New York with him, an things soomsdtobs workin allrig'ht when ono night tho 1 sad- donl d mound. Bhs had on inths av had novor “ At .” said tho dotactivs, in sonclw “ I had an idea that old Waybis had just h her out of my way and I want {or him rod-hot, but artor awhile loans to tho conclusion that ho was honostabout tho mattoranddidn‘tknow a?! moro about tho girl's disappsaranco than I “And thonlgotonthotrackotsomovillaga gomip,’bout how sho hada “Bananas stran- gor chap from tho oity,akindol soody tailor rdin toanaccounmwhomshsusedtomoot acco on tho bs‘ach, andputtingihisand that other ’bout sv body was of opinion that bad sl wi thochap." o En lishman covorod his taco with his hands groanod aloud, much to tho sun prise of Muttlobud, who stared at him open- mouthed. “ Oh, this terrible pain!” murmured Hr. Gar- mwmoltaftsramomont,taki°?his hands from his taco, which had fiush vary rod, a h habit, fig of great excitement in man ct w l glonorally turn rod when other man become in 0: o prossod one hand to his aids and hoavod a dog sigh. “ I am subject to those attacks, but oy do notlastloug. So all traca of tho girl is lost!"~ “ Governor, I toll yer. it ain’t often that I am fiabbe stodl" tho dotoctive exclaimed, im- gromgnly, “ but I will have to own up host this mo. “ Whore would the rl and her lovor be apt to fly” quostioned tho nglishman. “ ow, that requires some head-work.” " Not at all;th olso would they go but to this ritv 1” “ That was just what I was a-goin to say.” " It is certain it they feared psrsu t." u on, tho did, or the fellor did, anywa . for he had got nto a row in the village and po ad oi! his man like a prisevfigbtor. Thoro was a warrant out ag’iii’ him, and that wuss. the reason he gave leg bail.” “ And what hope i< there of lilldll ;: this one girl amid the nzilh: n souls who lrl‘lple this great melropolis!‘ mind the Englishman, de- 7 spondently. “ Why. governor, H van lm done: you jest give me the job, and we u. i «Mi retch it as nicely as I did the country all ilr. Didn’t I do that- right I p to the bench “Yes, you did very well in all but the one iiuportiintihing; ~you let the girl slip through your fingers.” “ HUW cmild I help it? Wasn’t I working un— der difficulties anyway! I didn‘t know whatyou , wanted of the girl. Even if i knew that she ' was going I couldn’t liuve stopp: d her by law, , you know. You see, govvrnor. you ain‘t acting i according to Hoyle in this matter. You haven’t i told me what you want of the girl; Iain com- , pletely in the dark. | “ I went for the old cuss with the yarn that 3 there was a big reward out, and all that sort of talk, but he was a tough old Sinner and wouldn’t have it for a cent. Now, jest let. me know h0w the thing is, and I’m sure I kin fix it as easy as rolling of! a lo 1” But the En shman didn’t are it in that light; he merely said it made no difference. unc- then fell to discussing lens to ascertain the where- abouts of the lest elen. Energetic measures were at once taken; ad- vertisements inserted in the papers, the police notified, and all the machinery possible put in motion. And the adVertisemeuts appeared on the very morning that Helen Home left the court OI- corted y Senator Buinblobig. CHAPTER XVII. nuamnmo run annex. As we stated in a former chapter. at the clone of the examination in Judge Himmilstoin’n court, Dent y Livingstone departed in trcsdom sitar givin bail, while the accuser, in default of any one w ing to give a thousand dollars bond as security for his appearance, was carried 0! to the Houssoi' Detention—aprocaution adopted b the court to insure tho witnem’s presence w on tho trial day came. ‘ Now to the two sharpest men in the court room t day the same idea had occurred, and those two were tho Superintendent of Policoand Ned Purchase, the lawyer, neither of whom bo- lievoi that you Livingstone had anything to do with the uifair, but the fact of the coachman swearing out the warrant when he failed at tho inqusst to coma forward, seemed to them a db cumstanco that rsquired explanation, and when they met in the street after the case was over, brisfiy they discussed the matter. :‘ gdd can,” laughs lawyeit'm t ' cry, ropiisd o superin on . “gov mon havo boon working at it, I sup- “ Yss, on tho quist, svsr sinco it accnrrd.” “ Any headway!” “ Nous at all.” “Vo’rygood trick, but it wasn‘t this young “ Oh, no; although ho appears to boys profited mon‘gynit than anhycbody else. I think thorn is soms g hack w b has not coino out yet, and which may show that somebody also th to gain by robbing tho sais.” “ s murdor was an accident, clearly; that was not on the programme.” I “ No; the follow “‘8 trying to get awa‘nand had no intsntion oi seriously injuring old lad .” “’How about this coachman: isn't this accu- tiona dovicc to throw suspicion m an innocent man,and so screen thorsal lugs asked Purchaso, shgowdly. own idoa sxactl . “ Bu’t, like some othorysmart man, hswould ho better 0!! if he wasn’t so smart.” “You are right there! I havo had about ovorybody connected with tho houss s dowod this fellow among the rest; it didn amount to on g. but now I think I have got . clow. had“.- had held his tongue.” at N mt” “ Hm oithor the man who did the trick, or also he knows who did do it.” H My am;andnowthat I find on aroot tho am. oprnion, Ned, it makes ms t ink I am on tho truo trail.” Then, with friendly the two parted. The police chief wasnct s ow in acti . When the coachman arrived at the House 0 Deton- tion, another risonor entered at the same timo, an undersi man. who said he v- as a tailor, a ctr-angst in the city, who had had his pockst flicked, and was locked u: as a witness againt a man who had robbed im. “ Wo‘ro full here now.” mid tho grufl ofiicial in c a ., “so I gue- wo’ll havo to put you two chaps ono ” mom. Tho mon growled a little at this, but thorn wasn't any help tor it. so away they went. alono tog When they were other tho two 1011 into mnvsrsation. “ Which you wouldn’t have had it this (show 'w M .——..-- >..- r. ,_ . ,, .__._— ,v “Just think! they wanted me to give two hundred dollars bail l" declared the tailor. " I’ve got to ive a. thousand." “ Then there is nothing for us to do buttogrin and bear it.” “ Not much !” responded the other. “ I’m not going t) stay here.’ " Can you raise a thousand dollars?" “ l've g to. friend that will have to raise it; he don’tda cio refuse; but if he does, it won’t be has (by for him." The tailur’s curiosity excited, he tried to get his companion to explain, but the Coachman suddenly became dumb, as if he had already said too much; and he had, for the sup sed tailor was in reality one of the keenest (footw- tivur in the city, and had been put with the prisoner for the express purpose of entrapping ‘ 11 im. But the coachman was a suspicious chap, and after this episode either held his tongue or else he t a careful watch on it. nough had been learned. tho 1:, to set the chief to keeping a good lockout or the man who “ dared not ” refuse to hail the coach- man. The next day the man a peered—a wealthy saloon-Lower; he went bai for the coachman, and thrn the detectives “ went ” for him; bus the affair Lad been cunningly managed for the saloon-keeper knew nothing cf the coachman at all, but had been paid byacertainlawyer,whose reputation was none of the best, to go bail for the detained witness. At the lawyer the search for the moment stopped, for the su rintendent kfiew the slip- pery linb of the w would never reveal the name of a client, particularly if there was any- thin “ crooked ’ in the case. “ I ut I’ll have the man who is behind the law- yer if it takes til i” the police chief cried. A d from that ime forth. night and day a perpetu- 1 watch was kept upon the le al gent 0- man, and much t) his annoyance, for e wasteo sharp not t J discover that he was under surveil- lance, and as he had been mixed up in numerous transactions, more or less questionable, he was in considerablehgpubt in regard to the precise matter which brou ht upon him such un- welcome attentions bu never for an instant ascribed it to the s ple fact that he had ar- ranged to bail a witness out of the House of De- teiitioai. f n t is gameo cross- with the detec- tives on the watch for evilclence,’ and the lawyer ‘ alarmed and suspicious, it was a doubtful mat- ter as to who would come out ahead in the long run. Plot and counterplot in this quarter, and while the struggle was i.) program, another he- gan right in the Plantagenet mansion. Richard Plantagenet. after coming to an un- derstanding with Viola. had surveyed the field of Mann with careful eyes, and formed a plan of operations which he now proceeded to carry out. He had been in the court-room during the ex- amination. but keeping well in the background, so as not to be observed, and when it was over he lEras tihe fill-list to leave. “d on» n t e superinte ent of lice Rich- ard's first fdea was that the chief regs ori hand ready to weave a web around the accused, but when the affair ended and the doctor introduced the pris her to the officer. and the judge, super- intendent, lawyi-r, doctor and Livingstone all indulged in a friendly chat. the on mancom. prehended that none of them believgd there was angthlng in the accusation. it is apretty hard fact to make the world believe theta man yorth four or five millions could possibly put his neck in ril by commit- ting s i vulw II cum u mu er."he muttered ” he pmergod from the halls of justice. “ if I had been unlucky enough to have been ar- rayed on this charge, I would not have t off :90 said] . He has tried his th the luv an won the wrestle without a hard breath; now, he will have to measure wits with me, and we shall see if he comes oi! with such flying colors." le‘bll‘d Plantagenet. for ‘11 bl! quiet ways, we: a daring, desperate fellow when roused to act. on. ‘ He had studied over his plan of attack and Mali not discover‘a weak point ii. it. , “The sooner I get to work the better,” was his muttered observation as he entered the Plan— tagenet mansion 80 like a spider waitin for an ill-fated fly to walk into hisweb. Richar sat down by the win— dow and waited for Danby‘s return. He came at last, accompanied by the doctor, who shook hands with him warmly as they part- ed on the steps of the mansion. Denby entered the beans; Richard met him in the hall and asked if he could be favored with a few minutes’ conversation. “ Certainly; let us step into the library,”Den- by replied. New, although the young man had a suspicion that Richardwas n i l‘ wad of his and had acted $0111] and in an undurl-and manner cversince he had cut. red the H utugt net household, yethe always treatid huu politely, and, since the death of his mother, had endeavored to forget The Hawks and Wolves of New York. 13 ( the sentiments which he had entertained. Den- by was of a noble, generous nature and scorned to harbor resentment without great cause. He had no actual proof that the other had en- deavored to prejudice his mother against him, and although be strongly suspected that it was Richard who had put the detectives on his track while he was wandering in disguise, yet he was not sure. Knowing his mother’s disposition, be under- stood that she was quite capable of doing this herself without hint or suggestion from anyone. And if Richard had but obeyed her orders in that business, he was hardly to blame, dependent as he was on her bounty. After they entered the library, Richard took particmar care to close the door carefully be- hinzl him. “As I wish to talk to you upon some impor- tant- business, 1 consider it necessary to be sure that what we say shall not be overheard by curi- ous ears,” be explained. Denby looked a little surprised at this extreme precaution, and observed: “ I do not think there is much danger of any one pla ing the eavesdropper within the walls of this once; if I detected them so doing they would not remain here long.” “ No doubt, but when a man comes to talk on business that involves a fortune of four or five millions of dollars, he is not prudent if he is not cautious.” Denby stared at this strange beginning. CHAPTER XVII. A STRANGE PROPOSAL. LIVINGSTONE, considerably mystified, helped himself to a chair, and motioned Richard to be seated. , “ it is a ratherawkwardmatter to talk about, but, business is business.” And, with a slight pause, he continued: “ A month 0 you were in disgrace—in exile, so to speak, an now, within the short space of thirty days, on are your own master and the possessor o a colossal fortune—a wonderful change, you'll grant.” “ It is not so wonderful that I should inherit my mother‘s fortune; it is but following out the natural order of events.” “ Ah, yes; but just look how improbable it seemed only a short time 0, that such a thing should have happened! ow, I am not a bet ting man, but, i I was, a year ago to-day I would have been willing to wager ten ears of my life against a lass of wine—no smalyl odds—- that you stood a otter chance of being made emperor over the United States than of getting hold of the fortune of which you are now in possemion." There was someth in the manner of the speaker in the tone 0 his voice which warned young Livingstone that something unpleasant was in reserve. “ One year age.” he went on “Gloster Plan- tagenet was alive, and on an he were not on good terms; he fanci . too, that he had good ounds for disliking you. You did not pay mtherespect whicbwas due fromason to a father.” “ lie was no father of mine!” exclaimed Den- by, his face fiushlng. “ My father was a gentle- man in every, respect, and so the [fly W that he died a poor man, when by. mply shut- ting his eyes at certain times, , too mi ht have gained thousands, and in time swelled sum total to millions.” Richard‘s lip curled a trifle; he had no sympa- thy with the man who neglected to take money when it was within his reach sim ly because there might hea doubt in regardto emeralin of the transaction. _ Denby did not notice the look. but ke t on, for this was one of the subjects upon whic he was sensitiv no, and I will en- e. “The man is dead and deavor not to wrong him a the least. There was a dislike existing between us from the be- ginning. Lad thou h I was, I thought my mother was crazy w on she married him. I did not then understand,» I came to in after years, how she was fascinated by the wealth of this ad- venturer—for he was nothin more, and if he had failed instead of succeeding, all the world would have said so; but a golden mantle covers a multitude of sins, and Gloster Plantagenet’s money blinded the world to Gloster Plantagen- et’s faults. What was the meaning of the mys- tery that shrouded all his early ifel Do you know aught of him in England?” Richard shook his head. “ “ N0; nor an body else.” Denby resumed; His life before e came to this country was all a blank; no one eVer heard him speak of it, and when questioned—some inquisitive people will question even millionaires—he always evaded 81x10 a direct answer. ‘ on’t talk of England,’he would say, ‘ I have lived so long in this country and prospered so greatly thati want toforget 1 ever lived any- where else. lam an American, heart and soul, and I do not wish to remember that I was o'er unfortunate enough to have been born in an- other muntry.’ “Most men, particularly those who rise up from nothing, after they acquire wealth are anxious to return to the place of their birth. or, at any rate, Where they spent their early year s ' in poverty and toil, so as to be able with tLe pride that comes from success, to dazzle the c yes of the ple who knew them when they had I nothing, with the show of their wealth. (Homer ] Plantagenet never returned to England even for a a visit, and I always had a thought that he . dared not go. I “ I may wrong him in this; itis but athought, ‘ and I will frankly own that there is no founda- . tion for it, beyond the imaginations of my brain. My mother was charmed by his oily via) 8; and then, too, his wealth replaced her in the position from which she was gradually falling for lack of means. He wanted her tograce his triumph, as the old Roman victors used to dl ag the cap tive barbarian lungs at their chariot wheels to makea Roman holiday. Mone be had won; he was a great man among the all street kings, but his position in society was not so well as- sured ; there was a certain circle in which he de— sired to shine, but to which even his million could not gain him free access. “ When he married my mother he accomplish— ed his purpose, fer the daughter of aVon Tromp and the wife and widow of a Livingstone had cit- tre‘e everywhere. His gold bought my mother, harsh as it may seem to say it, but itis the truth, for if he had been r the union would never have taken place. ut it did not buy me, and. from the beginning he knew that I both dis- liked and distrusted him, and despite all his ef— forts, he never was able to change my opinion in the least.” “ And that is why I say the chances were great against your inheriting his money l" Rich- ard remarked, a very perceptible sneer on his face. “ Not his money, Mr. Richard Plantagenet, but my mother’s money, the bribe for which she sold herself to this man who came across theseas with a dead past to which he was afraid to re- fer,” Denby rotor-ted. “ A lucky chance for you that there was a child born of that union, so that the wife could inherit all, failing the child; lucky chance, too, the death of that little girl in infancy,» that in the anbsence of a will all the property came to you. “ Heaven works in wondrous ways; it gives and it takes away; it'is our kismet—our fate—. that we are as we are.” “ It wasa and blow to both Viola and myself, for we had always been led to expect that on the death of our uncle we would be handsomely remembered.” “ His death came so sudden that he had no time to am his earthly matters.” “That was ucky for you again. for he most certainly would have done his best to have fixed the money so that you would never have got any of it.’ ‘ He would have found it a diflcult matter to have arranged it without wrongiu his wife, and our courts are severe on unjust wi s. ” " And then your mother’s sudden death, too—— how strange! She had no time to arrange her affairs,” Richard remarked, flxin his eyes searchineg upon Denby’s face, w 0 did not shrink from the scrutiny, although irritated by it. “ There was another wonderful piece of luck for you, for there isn’t any doubt in in mind that if she had been able to attend to - fairs matters would be diflerent from what they are now.” - “ It is pomible, for my mother was irritated, and most unjustly, against me.” “That, of- course. is a mere matter of opin- ion; she believed that she was acting for the best. And new, Denby, to come right down to business, on behalf of Viola and n yself—but without her sanction or any consultation with her, you understand—I thought 1 would see what your views are in regard to her and my- self. We were brought from England b our uncle; we were told that at his death we a cult! be provided for, and when his sudden taking of prevented the fulfillment of that promise, your moth was kind enough to us and true enough to th memory of her dead husband to re- peat the pledge: but a second time the sickle of the grim destroyer sets at naught human calcu— lations, and we now have no one to look 'to but you. “I have thought ever the matter. Richard, and I know that my mother would have he that word had not death come upon her so qu ckly; and altho h I do not think, since your sojourn beneath this roof, on have ever been a true friend to me, yet am Willing 'to let the past rest ; you are free to make this house your home as ion as you choose so to do, both yourself and V ola, and I will give to each of you, in ash, one hundred thousand dollars—a free gift without any conditions and with which you can doasyou like.” , “Two hundred thousand dollars out of four or five million is a mere drop in the bucket l” the other retorted, scornfully. “ Sup our mother had executed the will whic she ew out before her death. in which she gave half her property to charity and all the rest to Viola and myself, with the exception of a fifty-thousand- dollar nestto be held in trust for you and yourchil run?” 14 The Hawks and Wolves of New York “ But no such will was executed.” “ Don’t you be too sure of that; don’t make me try to hunt it u . Come, Denby, give Viola and myself a mi lion between us; you'll never,- miss it, and it will be better than a con- “ That sounds like a threat, and I refuse!” ex- claimed the other, rising in heat. “ I won’t do anything rashly, but when I get the will you shall see it; then we may come to terms.” And Richard bowed himself out. CHAPTER XIX. A LIBERAL OFFER. “ YES, yes,” continued the elderly gentleman who had so kindly interested himself in Helen‘s behalf as they walked down the street together, “it was really fortunate that I should be we hap— pened to stroll into the oeurt-room just as I did; and tortunate, too, that I recollected your face; but I have really a remarkable memory, and after I have onre s< r n a fat 6 I seldom forget it, although the nnme may escape me.” The gentleman spoke so confidently the girl did not know what to make of it. She stole a sly glance at him as she asked herself whether it was possible she had met him and had forgot- ten the circumstance; but upon reflection she was positive it could not be. His peculiar figure could not be easily forgot- ten; she was certain she had never seen him be- fore, and it was plain he was laboring under some misappre ension. “ Now, though I knew ou the instant I saw you—and so much astonis ed I was to see you in such’a hole—I couldn’t recall your name to save “.Helen Home.” the girl confessed, thinking its utterance would shew the stranger his mis- ke. But it didn’t; he only nodded his head in a satisfied way. “ Ah,yes; I was'sure it wasa short and Home] name, and that was the reason perhaps why forgot it.” And the “ senator” laughed at his feeble at— tempt at a joke. “ knew you, though, for all that. Why, I was just thinking about you the other day and wondering where you was; do you know I never had anybody since you left who attended to my correspondence as well as you?” It was now plain enou h the man was labor- {anti under a mistake, an Helen must undeceive “ Pardon me, sir, but you have made a mis- tak; and confounded me with some one else,” she “ The deuce I have! Why, it isn’t pomible!” “ Oh, but it is, air, because I am sure we have never met before—i never was an amanuensis for anybody.” “Quite impossible that I could have made a mistake!” he persisted. “ Never forget a face, you know, never! 1 may be a little Weak on names, but on faces, oh, no l” “But it is the truth, sir; I have on] been in the city three or four timn in my e, having alwa s lived in the country.” “’ on my life! if I havo made amistaks it would be the most remarkable thin ! mOst won- derful resemblance, you know. ut, are you tive about it? Isn’t your memory a httle herons? Just try and think now - didn’t Eon act as a sort of secre to me, nator nmblebig—J. J. Bumblebig— eflerson Jackson Bumblebig—at my house just above Tarrytown, 0n the Hudson, about two years ago?" “ No, sir' ever since I was a little girl I have lived on a farm in New J ersey, and have never been away from it ex ,t to come to New York three or four times, an then I always returned home the same day.” " I am really astonished!” the senator ex- claimed, in a tone of profound amazement. “ I would not have been willing to believe there $uld be two people in this world so much alike. on are the very image of the young lady who acted as my secretary for a couple of months about two years ago. “ She was taken ill and had to go awa ; she romised to return as soon as she was ab 0, but never heard a word from her. I can’t explain toyon how much I missed her, and I have been on the lookout ever since; she was worth dou- ble any secretary I ever had, and when I saw you this mornin I wassnre on were she, but now I come to t nk of it, it rikes me thdt her mine was Ellen instead of Helen. Well, well, I'm sorr .” y “ It was not my fault, sir,” said the girl, tim- id! . "Certainly not, and, on the whole, I am very glad the in take occurred for it has been the means of getting you out ofa nasty position; so itis all right, anyws . Danced funny. though, when you come to hink of it, and you must have had an idea I was ,a little cracked in the upper storv when I claimed acquaintance with you so 1 y. “ did not understand it, and I presume I did not act rightly in not trying to nudeceiye you, but} was in such a position I knew not what to “ii 'That i4 all right, my dear young lady, and I 'out with me.” “he remarked. am glad the mistake occurred, as it was of ser— vice to you; and I must say that, since you look so like the lady I knew, I wish )ou were able to come and be my secretary in her place. I i don’t know, of course, how you are situated, but the salary is liberul— twenty dollars a month ; you will be an inmate of my household, up on the Hudson, and you will nd the duty ogltne position light, and, I think, very agree- a e. Had the ground opened before the young girl she could not have been more astonished than she was at this unexpected offer. Here she “us, alone and friendless-a stran- ger in a great city, not knowin which way to turn, wrth only enough money in her pocket to keep her for a'couple of days, and now, like a good spirit from another world, this stranger came! All she feared was that she would not be equal to the duties of the situation. although she had received an excellent education and wrote a beautiful hand. And this she diflidently expressed, but the sen- ator, who seemed to be a jolly fellow, laughed at the idea. “Oh, I do not think there will be any diffi- culty on that score,” and then he put a few questions to her in regard to her handwriting and kindred matters, all of which she answered to his apparent satisfaction. “ You’ll shit, i guess,” he decnied. “Now, all you haveto do is to let your folks know of your engagement, and then I will take you right “ I haven’t any folks in the city, noracqnaint— ances either; I have inst come from the coun- try and am like one 10st in lhlS wilderness of houses.” And she briefly related the strange experience through which she had passed since landing in New York. p The gentleman listened with great attention, and when she had finished expressed his wonder at her strange adVenlures. “ I have heard of that Canary family before,” “ ’I be old man is a colossal rogue and socunning that he generally manages to slip through the meshes of the law, but your trials are over new; so, if you please, we will go to the de (St and take the train.” W it a light heart our P001 Girl went. The clouds which had enshrouded her ever since her arrival in the city seemed to be clear- ing awe and the bright sun of fortune shone clearly orth. f Ah, if she could only have looked into the near uture! At the depOt the senator insisted upon the girl g of some refreshments, remarking that no doubt she needed them. Helen would have declined, for her heart was so full of joy at the brilliant prospect which had so unexpectedly opened before her, that she had not the least longing for food, but the “ senator "insisted and she yielded. Before they started he telegraphed for his coachmsn to meet the train, and so, when they arrived at their destination, the carriage was in waiting. - “ 1 think you will like Oak Hall,”he said, af- ter they were in the carria e and on their way. “ It is a fine lace, so co derod b every one; it has cost a ortune; but I didn’t not the b though; the man that did was ruined by it a I bought the property for a quarter of its real value. By the way, I never thought about your e gag . b.Helen looked confused, for she had begun to comprehend now how strange it looked for a young girl to be traveling without any h.“ e whatever, and she was just about to expls n that she had come away in such a bur? that she left every one of her possessions behin , when he saved her the tranhle by saying: “ But, that doesn’t matter; as long as it is safe where it is, it isn't hardly worth while sending for it. I will advance you aquartsr's salary; you can make out a list of what you want, and my housekeeper will get them for on. - , y Helen was so confused by this kind ofler that all she could do was to stammer forth her thanks while tears rose in her-brilliant eyes. “ My dear, don’t say a word ' t doesn’t make any difference to me,’ he said, in reply. “ You might just as well have the mono ‘in advance as any other way; but here we are ’ As the senator had said, Oak Hall was indeed a ma iflcent place. The house wasamamive man on, built out of stone and WM combined, after the fashion common to England in the time of the Cavaliers. The estate com rised the whole of a point jutting out into he river, about ten acres in extent, and all access to the mainland was cut of! h a massive stone wall, pierced in the center wit ponderous iron gates. A stone poster’s lodge stood by the gates and the porter, a stout, rather ill icokin German,re- ceived the “master” with servile umility. “ This is my housekeeper. Mrs. Sparrow,” the ‘ keeper she could not he] and in a very cold, calm wa remarked that she would do her best to make e young lady com— fortnble. “ Let me see! I guess you had better ut Miss Home in the lust room in the north ng; and Miss Home requires some few articles to be pur- chased. Ge’ the list and come to me for the money." The girl was conducted to her apartment by Mrs. Sparrow,who as Helen thought, looked at her in a strange way every now and then. CHAPTER XX. A nnw Lira. THE apartment :0 whicu Helen was conducted was on the top floor of the house, at the extreme end of the extension known as the north wing, and from the windows a really beautiful view of the river and the opposite shore could be ob- tained. It was furnished in the most luxurious man- ner, and Helen, who had never been used to any luxury in her his, could not iesist an ex— clamation (f surprise upon being ushered into the room, which more resembled the chamber of a princess than the sleeping apartment of a servant. “ A fine room, isn‘t it, miss?” “ Oh, yes; l-eautilull” And it was, indeed; for not only were the carpet and furniture of the most costly and elaborate description, but the walls were adorned with elegant paintings and hung with silklen draperies after the old-fashioned tapestry stv e. “ Is thergnot some mistake?" Helen queried. “ It is not possible that this can be the apartment designed for me!" “No mistake. miss; this is the room; the senator new r makes a mistake, and you mustn’t even hint that he does, or else you will make him frightfully angry.” responded the woman, in her cold. hard. dry tones. “I would much prefer a plainer room. I have never been used to such luxurious sur- roundings, and I fear that it will take me along time to get nm (1 to them.” “ Humph l” grunted the woman; “ you will be a great deal difl’erent from the rest. if you do not only et used to the room, but complain because it isn finer.” “The restl—I do not understand.” “ The rest. of your sex, of course ' I don’t count myself a woman new, because I am old and have got through with all kinds of nonsense. You will get used to it; time enough. It‘s gnu room, anyway, and you must make out he contented with it. Now, it you will make me out the list of the things on want, I will see that they are got; an on't shut your— self; money is no more to the senator than so mucéh”wator when he takes a notion into his hes . This seemed all very strange to the country girl; she could not understand it; but there was somethin so harsh and r llent about the houseikeeper t tshe did not] e to ask her to ex la n. he wrote out the list and when Mrs. Spar» row lanced over it her lip curled in contempt. “ ell, you are modest in your re nirements l" and then she checked the articles 0 iapidly on her fingers;- “ Why the, things put down here won't cost fifteen do rs!” “ But it is all I can afford, at resent!” “ Nonsense! You can have a nndred dollars’ worth if you like, and you haven’t got any dressesdown. You don't su peso you can wear that one dress all the time, c you!” Helen Icoked dov n at her garb in dismay. It was a pretty dress, fashionably made, Hel- en’s own handiwork, and fitted her superb fig: fl lilke a glove, though composed of cheap ina- t a s. “ I presume I ought to have another dress for house wear, but I have always been so t that I have never been able to afford more hsn‘ one good dress at a time,” the girl replied, with perfect slm licity. A puszl expression crept over Mrs. Spar- row’s face, and for a moment she stared hard at Helen, much to her astonishment. “ Well, miss, I must say. you are a strange kind' of a girl, as girls go nowadays. Don’t you know that it is a crime and a disgrace to be r, and that no one ever ought to own up to it? by don’t you tell me that you have got silks and satlns and allsorts of pretty things at home, and that you forgot to bring your trunks with you or some other stupid lie?” "but it isn’t the truth, madam,” the girl ed, in her sweet way; “ and lease don’t speak of home. for there is no such t n in the wide world for me. I am alone, utter y alone, and I do not possess a single article beyond what 1 have upon my ,” and as she made the confession Helen could not prevent the hot “ugh-om welling u into her eyes. Despite the so dis tion of the home- ing touched by this senator said. as they entered the house and a l speech,so plaintive-.y de vered_ large, middle aged woman with a stern, hard face advanced to receive them. “Miss Helen Home, Mrs. B the duties of t e secretaryshw.” _ Tn~ woman inclined ler head in salutation rrow: she is: houtto undertake , thought truth and honesty,and all it- “ Well, miss, all I have to say is that you are the strangest young woman I have ever s. eh. i s-vri. (le thing, had diet! 4 nt long ago, but u m i. I listen‘ to ,~ on it kit-derinskes me think time may ba‘ ‘h Han ‘ of New Yor . some left in the world yet. And now, as for the things you need, you must have a couple of drones, one for mornin wear and one for dinner and evening. You wi l dine with the senat0r—” ” Oh, no!” “ Oh, yes; that is his rule; you are more than a servant, you know; you answer to a COD'. fldential man of business, and you will dine re- gularly with the senator, so you must have the dresses.” “I suppose I must if you say so; you know 3 best, but I cannot afford much for I am only to receive twenty dollars a month.” “ Oh, don’t let that trouble you; the senator ‘ is good for a.hundred or maybe two if you feel inclined to be extravagant.” “But i do not want to be extravagant. I want to be as prudent ns sible!"the girl (is. clared. ” W by, just thin , Mrs. Sparrow, how long it will take me to save up a hundred col— lars, to say nothing of two hundred !" Again the woman indulged in her peculiar grunt. the meaning of which Helen could not com rehend. . “ ell, I will do the best I can. Perhaps on are right in being prudent, for there’s no tel ing what will happen. I will get twu dresses for you and I will take care to see that while they are nice they shall not be expensive ones.” Mrs. Sparrow departed, sought the senator, and told him that fifty dollars would purchase all the lady required. “She is moderate in her ideas, isn‘t shel’he remarked, as be handed over the money. “ Something wonderful in a woman. I should I fit be surprised if this one turned out to have more sense than all the rest of them put together.” And so desirous was the pro rietor of Oak Hall that his secretary should ave her things promptly and properly selected that he desired he housekeeper to go down to New York in person and procure the articles. ' So expeditious was Mrs. Sparrow that she was back by five o’clock, bringing with her quite a neat little wardrobe. Add when Helen was dressed for dinner, in the really pretty dark evening dress which the housekeeper had selected with excellent taste, she looked like another creature from the hag- gard, frightened irl who trembled within the prisoner‘s box in t a police court. ‘ “Here’s some jewelry the senator said you might wear,” the housekeeper observed, after she had flnishedrobing the girl, for she had in- sisted upon aiding her to dress, despite Helen’s rsmonstrances. Then Mrs. Sparrow produced a pair of brace- lets, a necklace and a pair of earrings, and the lone country girl could not repress the natural womanly exclamation of delight that rose to her lips as she looked upon the s arklin gems: “ 0h, are they not beaugfull P never saw anything so beautiful before in my life! Why, they sparkle as if they were diamonds!” ' Yes, they are very good imitations of dia- monds, the houses r observed, a peculiar expression upon her ace. “Not many people would be able to tell them from diamonds.” 4‘ But they are far too beautiful for me to think of wearin .” “ Oh no: just let me try them on and see how "the will set gm 08. Beauty unadorned is all we 1 enou h talk about. but it is such orna- ments as t ass as make women beautiful 1" And with dextsrous fingers she adjusted the gems. The efl'sct was surprising. “I hardly know myss !” Helen exclaimed, with a beaming face. " But, someway, it does not seem ht that I should wear these costly things, for know they! must be worth a great deal of money, even theyaro not the real ems. -‘ You had better wear them; it is a whim of the senator: you see he would not be satisfied if you did not make a 800d I pearance at his table. You will have to presi overit, rogulnr- 1 , you know, and then, when he gives his am. by... as he has a great many prominent men in public Ii 9 as gnu“, and of course it wouldn’t do not to have on all fixed 115..” Helen look amazed at in' rare] y never wasa humble secretary so treated before. But since the senator was s: kind and gener- ons, Helen felt that she ought to comply with his willie. II much as poulblO. find so wore the 0 fix: the table Bumblebig complimented her' tly upon her improved BDptI= ance,snd, in is livelv. chatty way, soon at the young gm completely at her case, and though she had no sx risnce In t‘ -s rate, yet bei a natural-born , she presided over the tab e as though she and; been usedk to it all hvihluifs. wo weespa swi yawa,tw0 ha weeks, for Helen’s position was aypleasant :15: and the work was very light. but. as the senator explained, the political campaign had not be- gun yet and until that commenced the real work did not begin. All that Helen regretted was that she was not able to go to the obelisk so as to be able to meet her lover as per agreement. A half dos-u times she had spoken to the sena- tor about going to the city, but each time he i had something for her to do, so she could not go. iShe was annoyed, but did not know how to help i t. One evening, while she was meditating and , wondering how she would be able to get to the r city,t the housekeeper abruptly entered her apart- ‘ men . “Miss Home, I cannot carry this load upon my conscience any longer!” she cried. “ You are walking blindly to destruction, and I cannot , bear to see it!" ! 1 CHAPTER XXI. THE iiOUSEKEaPER 5 STORY. HELEN was Sitting by the Window , and as she had been planning and planning how to be able to meet the noble, manly lovu' whose image was eVer before her, her g_.ze had been fixed upon the moonlit service of the majestic l'lVel', and it was with a start that she turned and faced the housekeeper, who, in her ixeitenxnt, Lad en- tered the room without knocking. “ What did you say Mrs. SparrOu‘ ?" she asked, hardly able to beilCVe that she had heard aright. “ it is a shame, so it is, and, cold and cruel as I am, 1 cannot stand tamer by and see you fall into this old inonster’s pewer Without making an effort to save you." “ But I do not understand—what is the matter?” “ hush! Let me be sure first that I have not been followed, and that there is no spy lurking Without, annous to hear what 1 have to say. In such a case as this he is very suspicious, and 1 am not certain that he trusts me thoroughly." She glided to the door, opened it, slomy and quietly, then posted out mm the hall. be one was near, so she closed the door again, returned, took a chair and drew it up close to where Helen was seated. H My dear child, haven’t you any idea of the danger that threatens you?” she asked, her vaice soft and gentle, and a tender look upon her face, u~ually so stern. “ Danger?” repeated Helen, unconsciously using the same cautious tone that the other had ado ted. “ es, s. m0st terrible danger and so near that I shudder when I think of it, and blame myself that I have not had the courage to warn you before. No (10th you haVo thought me a cold. hard, stern woman—a woman Without pity—~ little charity for any of her sex; and so, too, I believed I was, but someway you, With your , little, simple ways, so dev0id of all guile, have touched a chord in my heart and causod no to feel as I have nOt felt for years. You are so young, so innocent and unsuspecting! I have watched you closely ever since you came into i this house, and it has been in my mind to warn you half-a-dozen times, but the demon of in- , (imprence was in my heart, and I saidto my- ' self—what though she is you I innocent? Others as young, as , innocent have been dragged into the dreadful v ulf; whi should I risk my worldly prosperity ; or the as e of savuig her? But this afternoon I was tired and laid myself down for a little sleep, and in that restless slumber I dreamed. I thought my sister appean to me, my dear dead sister who fled from this world of sin and sor- row over twent years 38°. dying wh~n she was no older’t n YOU. ,dfiing right on ihe verge of womanhood, in the ash of her bright ; yod beauty. I dreamed that she came to me an and said, ‘Martha. have you forgotten your sister who was torn so rudely away from on and hurled into an untimely ve? hink what you would have thou h of a woman who could have stood cofidly by and watched me descend to my awful doom without stretching forth a hand to save me!’ and in my sleep, to the vision, I murmured: ‘ I could have found it in my be.“ to have killed her.’ ‘Yes,’ she answered, ‘but what are {on doing now? Will you see this poor c ild, Helen Home sacrificed, and make no effort tosave heri’ And then with a start I awoke. Miss Home, I am not a religious woman; I don't real] know as I believe in any- thing at all; but a messa e straight from Heaven did not come to me th s afternoon, then no spirit word was ever given and received in this world. ” Helen was speechless with astonishment. “The story of my sister is soon told; it hap- mnsd twenty years ago; but that vision to-day s brought the tragedy up as fresh in my memory as though it was onlyyesterday." Mn. Sparrow spoke rapidly, on ently laboring un- der grgat excitement. “My sister and l were orphans, and Vi 0 came to this country to seek our fortunes when but little more than children. I wassevsnteen, and she a year younger. W e went out to service, i as a seamstress, and she as a nurse-girl, in the same family ; a walth “11111.7. the head of which was a great man then and is so today. There was a son, a handsome fellow of twenty-five. After a time I saw that there was a familiarity existing beween my sister and this young gentleman that their d flerent positions did not warrant, und I warned m sister, Rose, against him, and she, poor foo , beautiful and ‘ utiful and as ‘ issed my check in her old, cunning way ' .his likin 15 child, cried and confessed that they were em gaged tobemarriedl I doubted his honesty. ut she had perfect fai h and fled with him one day. He was su pose to have gone on a leak sure trip to the est, and no one connec the disappearance of my sister with his absence at myself. In six months he returned, alone. I, desperate, in secret asked him for an expiafia— tion, when to my amaZement he denied in w— ing anything about my poor child. Ab ed and humbled I crept from his presence, for Few could I tell that note. word of his deinal was true? A week after that I received a letter from Rose. She was in Chicago, whither she had gone with this villain, and she “‘15 sifig and dying. He had married her there, an then, whv n tired of her, bad eiolly told htrme [marriage was a false one, and inhunianly de— serted her. Mad With rage I flew v~i1n ihe lair ter to his father, and lie—laughed in i. yiace, and asked What better l, or my f< oh. [1 sister, could eXpect? Did I think that the son (in. United States Senator would marry a ti rvaqt girl merely because she had a pretty lam l and then, unceremonipusly, 1 was turned out of the house. I went ti Chicago and arriVed them just in time to have my sister die in i. y arms. 1 had a. little money which i had saved up, and I tried to find out about the marriage, and as near as I could discover it was a luwlnl mar- riage,thoughcelebratenunderlalscnames. This was done, he pretended, to evade pursuit; the lawyer, whom I employ ed, said it Would have been a very d.flicult matter for my sister to have row [that s owns really married to this vil— uin if he had chosen to deny it and had won y to block the wheels of justice. Thatis my 5» ter’s story, briefly told, and now I am deter— mined tnat you shall not be lured to that self— sanie ruin.” “ But no such danger threatens mel” Helen exclaimed, and as she spoke, thoughts of her mysterious lover were in her mind, but she could not bring herself to believe that he was anything but good and true. “ Why, you foolish child l” Mrs. Sparrow ex- claimed, “ is it possible that you have been berg two weeks and yet have no smpicionsjt ‘ N o! What should I suspect!” ' “ Do you not see that this old monsterjs treating you as he would never treat any young woman whom he had engaged merely as a ne— retary f" " He has been very kind, but I did not beliPNe there was any evil in it!" replied Helen, now thoroughly alarmed. ‘ “ If you were not such an innocent you would have suspected him lon ago. Doesjie not y you all sorts of comp ' cuts and tell you ow glad he is that he happened by acci— dent to make your acquaintance, and then those magnificent diamonds that he insists upon your wearing— “ And are they really diamonds, then!" , “Of course they are, and I supposed you knew it. I thought that you were only pro tending when you spoke of them so lightly..,_ I thought you were an adventuress who was per- fectly satisfied to become this old monster’s slave, to appear as his wife when he has one already living and. from whom he cannot get freei, ,though he has tried and tried, time and n. . . . “l, the senator’s wife!” and her countenance fully revealed how disgusted 1%?) was at the bare idea. “ Of course; that is what he brought you here far, although, as 1 havs told you, he cannot legally marry, but he can arrange that, ford! ou pretended lobe scrupulous on that point, 6 would easily find some willing tool to y the part of a minister or a justice of the , and the farce of performing the marriage s..- vice would be gone throu h. Then, as lungas lasted, you eon d reign as mistress here, an when the fancy passed away you would be unceremoniously shown to the door and told to go about your business.” - “This is horrible l’ exclaimed Helen, in agitation. - Again the wheel of fortune had turned, and from peace and happiness, at one plungefilm was hurled to and dessair! "At first I believed the you wasawi victim, and not until I saw the precau which were being taken, did I get the idea on were an innocent about to be sacrifl _ ' room is than at lonely one in all the bug ‘ . use" there isn't an occupied apartment near it. windows are all f oOWn so that cannot be opened. You might scream at to top of your lunfi hero and no one Would hus- Kou. You have reality been agrisonerinthis cuss ever since you entered i Do yump member the door in the cos you m from the main house into is l" . Helen nodded. _ " That dot r has been locked every night since you have been hereafter you have retired.» rest, sothatif you had she ted thetrs you were in and had attemgt toescape a in had gone to sleep at nig‘ t, you could not e got out of this wing. hat circumstance excited in suspicion, and then m—night, after you re from the table the old man drank ‘fvg-zxr. Vof’New York. more deeply than usual and, for a wonder, got ‘ his brains muddled wrh liquor; it is hard twice a year that he gels so. ‘ Wren then ine is in the wit is out,’an«l the senator is nocx ep- tion to the rule, so he told me bluntly that he had made up his mind to marry you—and th' n he laughed, the vile boast! for he knows very well that I know he cannot legally marry any , one; and he further Said he thought tomorrow would be as gooi a time for the ceremony as any day, and that I must have an extra dinner prepared so as to do honor to the wedding; so, to- morrow, my child, he Wlii force you to accept his suit.” “ Never] I will die first!” JUrU then the clang of a closing door came faintly to their ear.» , “ That was in the entry— some one is coming!” cried Mrs. Sparrow, starting to her feet. CHAPTER XXII. THE SENATOR EXPLAINS. “ 11' must be the senatt l ; Lu one else would dare to come!” the housekeeper Continued, and flien she glided to the Cu .or, carefully unlatched it and peered out. “ It is the Senator, and he is locking the door that leads into the entry; that is a bad si n; he is deeply steeped in liquor, too ——-I can tel that by the way he is fumbling With the lock. He means mischief, but do not be alarmed; heshail not harm you. I would srrau- gle him with my own llanos first! ’ and the air of fierce determination with wt ich she spoke showed her u and her courage. She cl the door and then 1 .oked around for a place of concealment. Tue large ward robe, a massive piece of furniture placed against (heal the walls of the apartment, caught her a e. y“ This will do,” she said. opening the door and stepping inside. “ He will nevor dream that there has been any one in the room and will not think of searching for a listener. Keep up a bold heart, and pay no attention to his threats; defy him to do is worst, and before morning comes you shall be free from this place.” Mrs. Sparrow closed the door of the ward- robe,and as she did so a knock sounded through 1 the'a artment. He en was dreadfully agitated and excited, 3 himself back in the chair and stared. hut exerted all her efforts to appear calm, as she bade the applicant enter. The door opened and the senator appeared, butjih an altogether different guise from what the girl had ever seen. His face was unnaturally red, his steps un- steady, and his eyes had the expression which band!” an;overdose of liquor generally gives. He came rolling into the room and closing the ’ door, planted his back against it and surveyed the occupant with what. was intended to be a genial smile, but the effects of the liquor turned it into a horrible grin. “ How'y do?” he ejaculated, with a thickened umrance; “ ot kinder lonely down stairs, so I thoughtl won (1 come u and see you for a while, sans to pass an agree’b e evening. Sit down— sit down, my dear, anti make yourself com- fort’ble." The girl sunk into a chair at the command; like the most of her sex she had a horrible aver- sion to a drunken man. With a laughable endeavor to walk straight and a pear all right the senator made his way! ton. air in the center cf the a tment and succeeded in sitting down upon t, announcing the fact with a grunt of satisfaction; but, though so much under the influence of liquor, his cunning was not impaired. “ Mus’ be lonesome up here, all ’lone,”te re- marked; “ guess] will have to come up and sit l with you once in awhile, kee you company, you know; fact is, Helen, my ear, I’ve taken a monstrous fancy to you; never sawa girl be- fore in thewhols courseof m’ life that I thought soimuch of on short ’quaintance. Helen, m’ darling, I am in’ to make a confession—an honest con! on, you know. l’ve taken a leetle too much wine an’ m’ heart has got the better of m’ jud ment. I’ve been thinking 'bont s‘ayin’ some in’ to you long time' ever sence ’most the first time I met you. lzleleu you’re monstrous fine girl! I think a deal oi you, Helen; in fact, I think th t it would trpubl - me to tell you h0w much I think of you. Now, I’m all ‘lone in the world, my own mu. ter, you knew—ho folks to interfere, and poke their noses into my business, and I’ve made up my mind I DVO you more‘n any woman I ever saw. Helen. nl’ darlin , how would you like to be Mrs. Senator Bum llehi ’! How does that strike you, boy? That woul he a little better than going in the island for ten days l” and the old rascal chuckled hclarsely. Now the girl, uns4 phisticated in the ways of the world, gave utterance to the first thing that 0 into her mind. _‘ How can on marry me, sir, when you already have a ving wife?” The senator's under jaw dro and he i i I l I “An‘ u ho tol-i you that i” be fairly howled. “I bet a ten dollar note I lgmml It‘s that mis- er’bleoulhag, Mrs. Sparrow l l’vellani nl’ doubts ’bout that u onlan ever Since you came into this house. She said then that you didn’t seem to be like the lest, but was like u reg’lar lady, au’ as innom-ht us a lamb. An innocent lamb in a police court, beiu’ sent to the Island—ten days—- drunk and dim derly l" and he laughed derisive- ly, while the face of the poor girl grew red with shame as she thought of the awful trial through which she had passed. ” Guess l-ho w. ulll have opened thoSe old cat’s eyes of hers if I i all told her that, hey i” llccon- tinut d. " But. I didn’t say u. word, ’eos I made up my mlnri the first time I saw you that you were] ‘st the kind of girl I Wanted, and when I saw that ._\'cu wth to play innocent, you khOW, I tumbled to the little game right away. ’cos I always huh- ve in letting everybody tell . their Own story; but you didn‘t foo me, you know—seen tco many girls in m’ time to be fooled. Now, new-r you mind what t at old cat says; she’s only jealous, ’cos she thinks that if you comein hereas my wife maybeyou ll turn her« ut; but I‘ll h’ist her,though,for this; ought i to be ashamed of herself, interfering in her mas- ter's affairs? Helen felt thet she ought to try and lift the blnn e from the shoulders of the housekeeper, lult she was so unused to falsehood, that for her life she could not bring herself to the task. " I‘ll g;t rill 0’ that old cat; been here too long,” he continued. “Thinks 1 can’t go t along without her, but I’ll show Ill-l ; won’t have any strikers in my camp. W’at difference dors it make b) you, anyway! Ill fix things up all i nice, you klow: have reg‘lar justice 0’ peace, min‘stel', alderman, or some (-tnrr chop in, y ou know; tie the knot all right. I say, it’s all right—he says it’s all rig:t— y-' u say it’s all right, w’at’s anybody clse’s businlss, hey? I call you Mrs. Senator Bulnbleblg, introduce you to all my friends as m’ wife, nobody ’sputes it; it’s all right, ain’t it! Who says ’tain’ti” “ No no, I can never consent to such a thin l” “ ever consent l” and the senator straightened ” No, no! it is impossible!” “ Blazes! w’at’s impossible?” he cried, rough- ly. “ I could not bring myself to become your wife even if you were a free man; i do not feel the affection that a wife should feel for her hus- “ ’Fection be blowedi Don’t care two cents for ’fection; I’m goln to have on whether yeti like it or not, an’ t at is all are is ’bout t! This was a revelation with a vengeance. “ You do not know what you are doing, or you would never dare to say such a thing to me!” the rl cried, indignahtly, all the hot blood with n her form leaping in wrath at the indi nity. “ on t I know w’at I’m doin‘? Well, I guess I do!" he retorted. “ You needn’t think because I have at a bottle or two of wine on board that I am of? my balance, ’cos if you do you never madea greater mistake in your life. I know w’at I’m ’hout. an’ I know who you are,_too, Helen Waybit I” - The girl started in amazement as the senator mnounced the name by which she had so long n known. " Aha l" he cried, in drunken glee; “ I fetched the bull‘s-eye first time, I reckon! See here, now, my gentle gazelle! You mus’n't ut on any airs with me, ’cos I know on. hy, if you had a bit of the right spirit ’ at you you would go down on your marrow-bones and thank me for giving you the chance to come in here. You’ll be safe here for no one would dream of looking for Helen Waybit in the palatial man- sion o’ Senator Bumblehig. Biggest chance on record for you, and all the Herald advertise- ments in the world wouldn’t set anybody on the ri ht scent. ’ - my the irl understood how the senator had guessed at er name. She had been advertised, and the description was accurate enough, com- bined with the knowledge he had gained from her. {)0 (nable him to guess she was the person so t. t‘1‘8’I‘ake it easv, my dear,” he continued. “I don’t want to now what you’ve done—don’t care two cents whether it’s robbery, murder, or what. It‘s all right; you're safe here—perfec’ly I safe, au’if tho detectives should hunt you up. I I’ll buy ’«m elf; nothin’ short of an army can take you out o’here. You shall be a queen— reg’lar queen, an’ all I ask, m’dear little darling duck, is for you to love me ges‘ a little”, And wivh considerable rouble he rose to _ 1331 feet, as with the idea of approaching the l r She was quick to take the alarm. “Do not come near me,” she cried, in an l *— didn’t think you would be fool enough to refuse my lfl’er, but i am allers prepared for the worst ; an’ now, since you are oing to be ugly I will jt-s’snow you how 11le can be when I get r. y mad up. From this time forth you shall be a prismler in this ’dentical room; an’ you sha’n’t have anything to eat or drink until you make up your mind to acoept my offer. I’ll starve the devil out 0’ you. In three days you’ll be glad enough to do anything. Jes’ you put that in )our pipe and smoke it!’ Then, with uDSIPutiV steps, the old rascal re treated, passed out into the hull and locked tin door behind hiln, leaving Helen a prey to th . wildest apprehensions. CHAP ER XXIII. 'rwo WILLS. IN a sumptuously-lurnisnell oifie on Broad street, near Market, in the city of Philadelphia, sat a Massive-framed gray-haired gentleman whose appearance deciared him to be a man of power and pt sltn n. It is not nweg-ssary for the purpose of our story to gi s e his pane in full, for Wlt'l a single slight enluxe only M 116 connected, to we will simply on [him Mr. D , and say that both as a lawyer and u statesman he has a national repu- tation. He had just arrived at the ofl‘l-‘e and was 1 looking Over his morning mail when the n in attendance broughtin a card with the state- ment that thehgentleman desired a personal in- terview With r. D. on important business The great In wyer‘s time was so taken up that it was not an easy 1: atter to gain access to him, as ordinarv clients were always received by his partnels in the outer ofilces. “ Edmund Mordauht, M. D.,” said the law- yer, reading the inscription upon the card. ‘ Merv aunt? Mordauntl I don‘t remember any one by that name. Are you sure, Joe, that he wants to see me in personl Hasn’t be con- founded me with the firm?" “ No, sah, I gues: not; for when he said he wanted to see you in ’ticular, I done ax him if one ob de odder emmens wouldn’t do, and he said dnt de-y wou dn’t—dat it was Mister D. he wanted for to see.” “ Show him in; it looks like business.” In a few moments the negro ushered in the applicant. ‘ Mr. Mordaunt"was a youn gentleman of good a pearance, faultlesst a red, and with a shrew , intelligent look. “ Mr. D., yn-u will pardon me, I trust, for my urgent requestwsee you in person, but I am interested in some legal matters u n which I diesirg to obtain the best possib 0 legal ad- v ce. The law or bowed at the im lied compliment, and wav the visitor to 8. ch 1'. The gentleman set down. drew out his pocket- book and selected a fifty-dollar bill from among some other notes. “ I am not really judge enough of these mat- ters to be aware or what such advice is worth, but here are titty dollars to start on, an! if in your judgment, when you understand the cir- cu mst’ances, that is not enough, I will gladly pay more. The inner nodded iously as he accepted the hill; great man as e was and Wealthy, still he dearly loved money. and this prompt way of doing business pleased him. . “ Proceed. sir; I shall bepleased to do what I can for on.” ' _ 'l‘h-l ot er drew a large envelepc from his breastpocket, took from it a tidal legal- looking document and handed it to the law- yer. “ A will, ehr'Mr. D. observed, as he unfolded the paper and glanced at it. The other nodded. “A copy of the original document. I pre- sume, as l perceive it is in one handwriting, sig- natures and all.” “ Yes, sir.” ' “ Well, what information do you des‘re'i” “ Is the will all right—executed in due form, no flaws in it?" “ I’ll run it over—it seems to b .” Then the lawyer read aloud skip ing a little hele and there: “ ‘1, Mary nn rown,’-—not the right name Ipresumel” u ) a.” I “Uncommon appellation! ‘Bein or pound mind, etc., etc., last will, etc., etc., u. en l ex- penses to be pain, 900.; to my son. by my first marriage, John Sn 1th. Junior, the sum of ten thousand dollars— Fourth National Bank am _invested for his benefit—interest to re pr-ill to him—principal to be dmded among his prelud- children, u'in the 9WD! of to issue to go to— Timbuvtm Missionary Society. Belem e 0! my estate to be turned int: cash and one-quarter of the sum to my dear oung relutiye by mar- riage and esteemed f end, Sarah Brown; an. other quarter to m relative by Harris e and confidential man 0 business, Thonrar rown' gazed r..t the girl iora few momen sin speech- agony of fear, “or I will scream for assist- the remainder to be divided into ten equal on- ions astonishment, stunner. “Ea. W‘at’s tha‘ ?‘ in stnmmered, at last. “I asked you how you could marry me when 1001' wife is still living?" hr the question was aI l ance.” “ Ha, h-l, ha! Well, that’s a good okel” he ‘ replied. in drunken mirth. “ You can d scream for a week in this room and no one would hear you; that's the reason you were put up here. I parts—Home for Ihmnbles—Foreign Mill a Society, etc., etc.’ Well. I must say th‘ th s is pretty rough on John Smith. Junior.” “ Is the will all ri hti-will it until—cu tested!" 8 u be con 9f 9! 'l‘e _Haw_ and ol‘fi ew York.”— “ Most certainly! there never lived a lawyer of: with skill enough to draw a will that couldn’t be contested.” “ But successfully, I mean.” “ That is a horse of another c010i; the docu- ment is not drawn as carefully as it might have been, and is somewhat clumsin arranged; still the meaning is perfectly plain. I presume that John S nith, Junior, is ik ' H “'5 as? “ Well, while the document is, on the face of it, decidedly unjust, yet the law distinctly holds thot one has the right to do With his own pretty = much as he likes, within certain bow-AI. Of course; the bequest of the ten thousand d liars to be held in trust arts as an estoppd in John ‘ Smith, J unigr, unless he can prove that his mo- ther was not of sound mind or was unduly in- fluenced in the making of this will.” b: gut is it properly executed—witnessed, e . “Two witnesses, I see; the law in this State uires—” “ it is not in this State; the propertyis in New York State.” “Two witnesses are all that are required. ‘ Did the witnesses know the contents of ihe pa- per before they affixed their signatures to it, or was it merely stated to them that it was Mrs. Brown’s will?” “ Th’e pape vas read to them at the lady’s re- -nest “ That is a strong point in favor of the will, as it shows that there was no design of keeping the matter a secret, and they would be able of com to testify in rzgard to the lady’s con- dition—that she Was 1 fight and knew what she was doing.” “ There is not the slightest doubt in regard to that. as a hundred witnesses can testify. “Well, as I said before, it is rough on John Smith, J unior, but I don‘t see how he can help himself, and if he should be unwise enough to show fight, the Timbuctoo Society and the rest of them would come down on him like a pack of wildcats.” “Now here is a second document on whi~h I want your opinion, but before you examiu-i it let me t xplaiu in regard to this property. Mrs. Brown, w ..n Mrs. Smith and a widow with a good- ized boy, wet and married Brown, then a vellum. h man. One child, a gil 1. Wu. the issue of t marriage. but she only lived a few days. grown died suddenly; no will was found, and 's WlJOW crime ate the roperty—the ropes-t devied by this will w oh you havepjust exy- amined.” M I m." “ Now look at this,” and the seeker after knowledge handed the other paper to the law- yer. " ‘ Last will and testament of James Brown,” read the law er. “0110! This is getting inter. ' , and t is dated two years previous to the time the will of Mrs. Brown was executed.” “ Exactly! About six months before he died. This paper was hidden away and only came to light recently." ‘But the estate was settled up in ac- cordance with the law, in such cases made and rovidl’d, just as if this will was not in ex- ' nee “ No one suspected that there was such a pa- “ A complicated case ; ground enough to found a romance upon,” commented the law- yer, as he unfolded the paper and proceeded to examine it. “‘To my wife Mary Ann Brewn, all the etc. ct.c., of whic I die possessed, to have and hold as long as she lives, and at her death the entire estate to go to my only child, my da h- ter ’—the name is blotted so that I cannot ugh ” " It is so in the original document." ‘“ That‘s stra n89 1" “Is that paper of any weight in a court of law 1" ' “ Certainly; it is short, but right to the point; there could be no quibbling about it. meaning. It is properly signed and properly without." ' “ Both the witnesses are dead." “ Were they well known men, so that their signir'ur? could be proved!” At a. “‘ That is all that is required." “ What effect does the first will have on the second i" ‘ it renders it of the same value as a sheet of waste paper. Mrs. Brown could not convey the prpperty in which she only had a life in— tenet ' “ But the daughter, evidently a child by some former marriage -no one knew that such a girl was in existence.” , “ He did, evidertly, or else he would not have left her his pro ty.” “ Then the he rs mentioned in the sound will could not dispute the property with the heir mentioned in the flrstf' “ Not with any hope of success, for there lean ap rauce of fnndonthe face of it. It looksu malice had kept baokthe first will." ely to be the contest- : “Then, when the first will is produced, it is the duty of the executors to search for the daughter?" I “ Precisely! and until the child is discovered, or her heirs are found, the estate remains in statu quo.” “Suppose the girl is dead, leavin or that no trace of her can be found! ’ “ The widow then inherits, as the heir of her 1 dead child' but let me caution you, my dear sir, not to believe that there is any possibility ‘ of that. Experience has taught me that the l heirs of large estates rarely die, until they come into their property, or, if they do, they leave a = lot of heirs behind them.” i “ Well, sir, that is all,” said the visitor, fold- ing the documents and carefully replacing them in his pocket. "‘ Is the fifty sufficient for your trouble?" “Yes, sir, quite so; and any; further in- formation you desire i shall be appy to give you. “I am very much obliged,” remarked the gentleman, bowing himself out. “A deep chap, muttered the lawyer; “ but who does he represent in the case? And the names are real, too—oh, no! not much! If the estate is abig one, I shouldn’t mind havmg a fingrr in that pie.” “Mr. Mordaunt’s” brow was gloomy as he walked directly to the depbt and took a train for New York. “Now, then, what is my game?” he mur- mured as the iron horse bore him swiftly toward New York. “And this daughter-is my guess true? If it is, I hold her in my hand a trump card, ready to lay at the critical moment, and what can eep me from win- mng?” ' no heirs, CHAPTER XXIV. CANARY snoorm’rns. Mn. GAYAWAY Mun-Lunch sat in his ofiice, a small a artinent in Fourteenth street, near Union . quare, his feet elevated upon a table, and pumng a way vigorously at a huge ci ar. The private etective was not in up easant mood and he was giving vent to his thoughts in words after the semi-theatrical style common to the man, who. although possessed of a certain shrewdness, was a great hraggart. “ Well, now, if this don‘t beat the Dutch you can take my b otsl" he ejaculated blowing out a great cloud of ttlbflfimflh'ka. ‘1 Eleven days ._ leven precious days I have been on this trail, a d nary scent of hide nor hair can I get. And yet she is here in New York, somewhere. I would be ready to take my oath that she is; bu I: where, that is the question before the meet- ing. Where is she hiding, and why don’t she come out and show herself, or is she afraid that there Flu! be trouble on account of her running away The blundering booster had little su lcion that he was entirely to blame for the girl‘s ht, and that, if he had kept his threats to himself, he would have had no difficulty in securing the ame. ‘ “ This is about as m sterious an aflair as I eve-r got mixed u in,’ he continued. “What on earth docs the nglishmn want of the girl? and he’s so darned close-mouthed, too, that a man can‘t get an idea out of him. It is for somethin important, of course, or else he wouldn’t e throwing his money around in this loose way. It has cost him a retty nny already, but he don’t seem to min iti ‘ Han the expmm!’ he saw; ‘flnd the "'1; that is all I want,’ and I’ve done my low! , but, same- how I can’t work the trick. I thought the per- sonal advertisements in the newspapers would fetch the gal. or, at least, reach somebody that knew something about her, for if she isiu the city she must be stayin with somebody, and I itched it pretty strong): the advertisement of 17 hi mono would paid for reliable in- format on, bu here’s a good ten days gone and nary a bite.” J list then the door opened slewly and a benev- olent-lookin old gentleman, attired in a well- worn suit 0 black, peered into the apartment— snch a man as nine out of ever ten people meet- ing him in the street would ta e to be a leading 11 ht in some quiet old church. uttlehud, however, knew the man of old, for be instantly accosted him. “ Hallo, Papa Canar , what do you want! Come in; don’t be frigitened; lain’t (go-t any of the dc tectives here from the Central co to DOunce upon you.” “Oh. mv dear Mr. Muttlebud, on will have {2m- joke I” the old man replied, c osing the door hind him. at the same time takin! ‘5 m d surve of the apartment to make sure that w at the etective said was correct. “ I am not afraid of the detectives; why should I bet I am living on the square, now—have entirely shook my vile associates." ‘Yes' will a good chance comes tomake a big haul. You turn honest! Yes, when the world 0 mes to an end." “ Ah. You will joke just so much: but 1 have come to see you on a leetle matter of I War" . '00; you can’t ro me into an . Go sing to some other hull): was “ You wrong me so much that you make my heart bleed!” whined the old fellow, trying hard to ueeze out a tear. “ )h, stow that gammon! What do you want?” “ A little advertisement in the paper attracted my attention.” “ Oho!” and the detective tenk his feet from the tal,i,le; do you know anything about the t l “ Vell, I am not exactly sure. I happened to make the acquaintance of a young girl whose first name was Helen on a train in J rwv a“-out a couple of weeks ago when l was coming up to the City, and she answers to t to description that you gave in y or advertisement." “ Two wu‘ks ago! That was the time.” “ Well, what is there to this thing, anyway! What do you want of the girl?" “ Have you got her?" “ Oh, no.” “ No use to lie about the matter, you know,” continued the detective. “ If you have got her you had better own right up, for if you are in- clined to be ugly about it, n0w that I have got a clew, I will be own on you like a thousand of bricks!" “ My dear Mr. Muttlebud, you are onl wast- ing breath by threatenin me,” respon ed the old man, oilyas ever, an yet with a rust of snarl showing his teeth, plain proof that he could ofi’er attle if necessary. “Just look attheinat- ter ourself; I am no chicken; entire? too old a bir to be caught with chaff. If had been mixed up with anythinlg crooked in this busi- ness do on suppose would have been fool enough come to you! Do you suppose I couldn’t have sent somebody else to have found out what leetle game you was u to? Now, I propOee to deal honest with you. e giil was in my hands—in my house, but she isn’t now although if you can afford to make it an object to me it is just possible [maybe able to find her for you ” “ Canary. if you have harmed that I it will bethe worst day‘s work 'you ever di in your life, and you know better than any one else that you have had some ugly obs recorded against you in your time!” on uttlebud, in his blue- terin way. “ , my dear Mr. Detective, you are not half so acute a man as you think yourself to be ” nded the old rogue contein nousl . “Do you think that if I had uni-m to. i I would ‘ give myself away’ by ndmi to anybody that I knew anything about her :Vhy’} you must think that I am a regular dou- ey. “ No, no; the man who pick: you up for a fit will et badly fooled.” “ 0 business; for my time is worth too much to be wasted. What is the informaflon worth?" “i ain’t sure that your bird is the one I want.” “ She came from South J ersey—somewh-e luck of Freehold." “ Blazes!" muttered Muttlehud, to himself; “ no wonder I missed her. Wasn‘t she a sly one, though, to cut across the country to Freehold while I was cooling my heels around the d at Long Branch?” - “ The irl excited my suspicions because she kept me a close month about herself, for I couldn‘t get a word out of her in regard to her folks, where she lived, w why she bad‘lefl her home; but the fact that she was so mun. about these matters, cou led with the circumstance that she hadn’t the eastbitof baggage, 11 seems suspect that she had given leg-ban and was run- ning away from home. I suspected, too. that the name she gave me was not her on n. and from the peculiar wayin which,when we stopped at a station, she watched the ngers board the train—a sortof fri htcned ook upon her face as though she was d that some 0: them were coming after her—rather led me to think that she had done something and was afraid of rd“ pursued and captured. “ Whit; name did she give?” “ How much is that information WW 3:3” demanded, with a dry chuckle and a “ Oh, I don’t know that; not much of earth”, I reckon. All I wanted to know for was to see if it was the page; I wanted.“ \ “ She answe to the description exact] —- face, figure and dress: her first name was Bela, and she was on the train from Freehold in. for New York, on the morning succocdiilg ihei fl when, according to your advertise-m ni, she appeared from her home. “ Now then, if she fills the bill. and you want to negotiate, w oil and good, as so, and id! get to work; if you don‘t mean usiness, spit it out. and i will shake tl e dust from my feet and depart.” Murviehnd looked puzzled for a moment: bet a quick-u Med man. despite all his brags. bewas no match for the old scamp who for manyaloug ear had comfortably supported himself by ‘ trick and device.” “ Well, how much do you want!" “ What's your cflerf” ’ “ How can i tell what your informati- is worth until I know what it is?” 1 l.» ' its“ , .. . responded Canary, with a grin. ‘ maul” ‘ croft, entered the room. ’I‘he Hawks and Wolves of New York. “ You are very anxious to seewhat cards I . hold eh!” “ f I have got tobuy your hand it is only fair I should havoasight at it to be able to tell some- thin about its value.” “ can iput van on the track of the girl.” " That 5 what I want." “ I in do her acquaintance on the train that , morning. as I told you. and when I found out the suspicnous circumstances that surrounded her, I came to the conclusion thai she was just the kind of girl I was looking for; she was fresh-faced, ; good-lookin , innocent-appearing; one to look I at her woul never have so .ted the had been 3 up to any mischief, and so reckoned that if I I could work her into a sort of decoy-duck I would make a heap of money.” “ I see; get her into Wealthy families, and have her find out where the valuables were kept, so that you and your pals could go for them.” “ Ah. Mr. Muttlebud, you must have associa- ted with very bad men to haw such evil ideas,” “ On, I know gour favorite game, there’s half a dozen girls in ‘tate’s Prison now, sent there on your account, but you always manage to get clear.” “ Innocent man. you know! Well, I got the girl to my home all right, but in an hour or tw0 she contrived to slip through my fingers, and I tell you she‘s a deep one or else she couldn’t have done it. I’m a kind of a superstitious man, and [didn’t try to find her, for I had an idea she wouldn’t bring me any luck. for she escaped froma trap that never failed to hold its bird before; but when lsaw vour advertisement I thought theremight be a few dollars in the thing, and so I set out to hunt her up, and I suc- ceeded. Now, if you want to trade, I’m your “‘ How much? Name your price.” “ A thousand dollars, say." “ Oh. my principal wouldn’t stand that.” “ That’s the lowest cent.” “ He won’t give it.” At that moment the Englishman. Garrow- CHAPTER XXV. CATCHING a TARTAR. Canaan gifted with a scamp’s quick compre- hension, the moment the Englishman came in gues ed that the new-comer was the man inter- ests-d, so he resolved, with instant decision, to Ignore the detective and do business with the principel. “ Ah i this is the entleman, I presume. who is interested in the elen Waybit matter? How fortunate it is that I am able to afford him val- uable information.” Muttlebud scowled and ave a little gasp; the owl impudence of the ot or had almost taken his breath away ; but the unsuspicious English- man naturally sup that the detective had spoken of him to t e stranger, so immediately replied. ‘ Yes. sir; I am the part .” “ I don’t think we can 0 anything, sir, with this here cove,” Muttlebud hastened to remark. aile”wants too steep a price for his informa- on, Ca sighed and rolled up his eyes in pro- test aga nst this insinuation. “ How much!” demanded Garrowcroft, sharp— ly. “ A thousand dollars.” “Oh. b Jovel Why don’t ou ask for the bank of ngland, ou know? ow, if you were to say a hgndred, think you would be deuced w “ at for such information as I can give; that is, of course, if you are interested in the girl and manxious to recover her. " " Won’t you take lessi” asked Garrowcroft. “ Not a pennyl Oh, I could not-I really could not, in ustiee to in self. for I have been to conside a trouble an ex use in the mat- ter. and I can assure on that f you decline to pay my price and so ve to go without my in- ormatiou the chances are a hundred to one you won’t find the girl. even if you spent ten years in the search.” . “ Gammon i" cried the detective. “ Fact 1” Canary replied. The Englishman had taken a good look at the old man, as if am to make out what kind of a customer he to deal with, and now he e. “ This tleman may be right ” he said, ad- dressing uttlebud. “ Perhaps I would save money and time by graying the thousand. Will you wait flve minu . while I talk the matter over with my friend in the inner room?" the..." we: y ted to oblige "replied Ca- u‘ry,satisiied that is demand would be met. The Englishman and the detective withdrew into the little inner office. “Who is this old rascal. and what don he know about the girli.” asked Garrowcroft, the moment they were alone. Briefly Muttlebud told all he knew of Papa Canaryand his “ interesting ” family, who spent more time in jail than they did out o'.‘ it: then he , . ,. “Whig. ., W :, n . ' related the story told by the old man in relation to the girl. “ How can we be sure that he hasn’t got the girl in his possession nowi” Garrowcroft que- ried. “ Heaven help her then. if she is l” Muttlebud exclaimed. “if she has been two weeks in the hands of this old scoundrel and his crew she is a poor ruined creature l" The Englishman ground his teeth in a rage. “ If it is so, may the Lord have mercy on all of the gang, for 1 11 have the deepest and direst vengeance that money can buy, and if I can’t stretch the law far enough to satisfy me, then I‘ll take the law into my own hands.” The speaker Wus greatly excited, and the de- tective marveled at the emotion which he dis- played. “ I don’t think, governor, that it is likely. He wouldn’t have dared to come forward it' he had harmed the girl.” “ True, Very true! Oh, I’ll give him his thou- sand dollars. the atrocious scoundrel! Do you think he will tell me the same story he told you show. the girl?” Muttlebud did not exactly comprehend what the other was driving at, but he replied that he had no doubt he would. T 0 two returned to the outer room. “Sir, I will not conceal from you that this gentleinan,”—and he nodded t0 the detective— “strongly, advises me not to give you the sum you ask, ut if you convince me that you can arrange matters so that I can put my hands upon the girl, I think We can come to a satisfac- tory agreement.” “ No d1 lubt, for I can do that.” “ Proceed, sir; relate to me all the particulars of the affair, so that I may judge.” Canary fell immediately into the trap the Englishman had laid. De-pile his shrewdness this time he was tricked, for he related in in] how he had encountered the irl on the train, how he had carried her to h s house, and how she had disappeared from the apartment in which she had been placed, suppressing, of course, the particulars of ho >v he had drugged her, intending to make her his slaVe. “ And when you saw the reward offered for Helen Waybit, you suspected that it was the girl whom you had harbored in your house, and you then hunted her up?” “ Exactly.” “ And you can tell us where she is now i” “ I can, provided you fork over a thousand dollars.” “ I think twenty-five will pay you very well.” Canary stared; this was a discount with a van eance. “ wenty-flve devils i” he cried, in a rage, for he began to have an idea that the cool English~ man was amusing himself at his ex use. ‘ Say, Muttlebud, tell this gentleman am not the kind of a man to be played with." “ Sir, I assure on you are the very last ar- ticle in the word I would select for a play- thin . I am quite in earnest in this matter; I wil give you twenty-five dollars and no more.” “ I refuse—that is all there is about that; I refuse, and I reckon you won’t be able to find the girl without my help if you search for a year I” Canary made a movement toward the door, . but the broad shouldered Englishman antici- pated him and blocked the way. “Not quite so fast, my friend; I’ve not got throu h with you yet. ” “ hat do you mean?” demanded Canary, much more annoyed, though. than alarmed for it took a great deal to frig breaker. “You are a donkey, sir, for by your own ' confession it is plain you entrapped the girl into , going to your house, for if she ad had any idea of llyour character or the nature of the den over w oh you preside, she never would have gone. You have admitted that the girl was with you two weeks ago, and since that time she has never been seen, so the inference is clear that you had something to do with her disa - anoe; so I ropoee to have you arres on a char e of a notion. If you haven’t harmed the l, and know where she is, you can very easi y get out of the scrape by either reducing her or glib-in information so that s a can be found. . uttlebud have the kindness to ut wolf in communication with the superin- l’e ent of police with the telephone.” anary was far too shrewd a rascal not to comprehend that he was in a tight place. The chances were a thousand to one that some one of the nei hbors had seen the girl enter his house with 1m and would teetif to that eflect and he well knew his bad character would wei h heavily against him; so, like a wise man, r izing that he had caughta Tartar, he sub- mitted racefull to the inevitable. “ We gents. he remarked, forcing a sickly smile, “ I guess you have got me this time. and seeing that it is you. I will take your offer of twenty-five for the information.” “ But we don’t pay the monvv, you see. until we know that everything is all square!” put in the detective. eager to how a voice in the mat- ten this veteran law- ' ter, and rather nettled to think that his princi— al had devised a scheme which had succeeded ngetting olii Canary “into a ole” when his wits had not been equal to the task. “Of course; I don’t object to anything in reason.” And then the old bird of ray related how, af- ter the advertisement in re ation to the girl had a peared, he came to the conclusion that the eleu Home whom he had met on the train was ‘ the youn girl advertised for under the name of Helen aybit, and thinkin there was some money in the matter he be gone to work to hunt her up. i A single clew only had he—the letter, which f be explained the girl had left behind when she ‘ had quitted the house— which tale neither of the l listeners believed, for they had no doubt the letter had been stolen from the girl. This letter Canary yielded to Mr. Garr0wcroft. Iu ! this note was an appointment to meet the girl at the obelisk in Central Park. 80, up to the Park Canary went, and after careful inquiry he discovered that a girl answering to the descrip- tion of Helen Home, or Helen W aybit, had been arrested in the Park. and was afterward taken ‘ to the cou: t in Fifty-fourth street. To the lcourt he went, and after a little trouble suc- ceeded in discovering that she had keen lined, her flne aid by Senator Bumblebig, an i with that gent eman she had departed. Keeping to the track like adetective-hnund. Canary at length discovered that the girl was aninmaie of the senator‘s house at Tarrytown, acting as his secretary. “ We can decide in regard to the truth of this story within an hour or i wo. Sir, we will have to trouble you to accompany us to the heuse of this senator.” Canary made no objection, and inside of five minutes the three were on their way. CHAPTER XXVI. A DISCOVERY. AFTER the interview between the two young men in relation to the Plantagenet estate. as re— lated in a preceding chapter, social intercourse between them was almost entirely br« ken oii’, for Denby was of that peculiar. open nature which cannot conceal its ikes and dislike», and after having offered to make Richard a free gift of the princely sum of one hundred thou— sand dollars without conditions, to have him declare that he thought he ought to have a null- ion, was the assurance of insolence. and par— ticularlyso as the young Englishman had in— sinuated that if his demand was not ci-mplkd With there would be trouble. Denby had consulted his lawyers, but, as: be- fore, they laughed at the idea of Mrs. Plan— tagenet making a will without their 1.. on i' dge. and advised the young man not to pay any at- tention to such a ridiculous surmise. Under these circumstances there was not much sociability among the three who now dwolt in the family mansion. although the giri,_Viola, tried to be as agreeable as ible, but Wlt‘l her quick womanly instinct s a saw that. the gulf between the two young men was growing wider and wider each day. and understood that it would be the height of folly for her to attempt to interiere in the matter. One day after dinner. just in the dusk of the evening, all three happened to be in the parlor I together. It was a purely accidean meetin , | {gaggither of the young men courted the other 3 : y, l Denby was seated close by the window, look- ing over. one of the evsning papers, when Viola. had coaxed Richard to come in and turn the ' lane of a new piece of music which she wished 5 to try, and she had got all through with the laying before either of them disobvered Den- y’s rescues—or at least so they said. “ h I’m tired of music !” Viola exclaimed, ' abruptly. “I feel just like reading to-ni m. Denby, won’t you have the book-cases nuloc ed so that I can have a book i” I i “ The book-cases are not locked.” “Oh, yes they are, for I went for a book this after-pooh when you were out and couldn’t get one. “ Well. I didn’t know it. and I can alums you it was not by my orders.” (Emmy said be supposed it was, for you had t e e . “I had the ke i What nonsensel” Denby exclaimed, impa eutly. “Call Larry. please; he has made some mistake.” Viola summoned the servant, who was the waiter of the house, and when he came the young master questioned him. “Indeed, sir, I thought that you looked the book-cases. for I saw the key on the bureau in your room.” “Ale Why should I lock the book- cases “ ’Deed, sir, I don’t know, but the cases are locked, sir, and I am certain I saw the key in one of the vases on your bureau." “ Well. 1 can’t imagine who looked them—for I certain) did not, and noone should meddle with the] arrangements without orders." “ I didn’t. sir i” protested the servant, quickly. “Oh, I have no doubt of your innocence; it 'le ole f w "ask. I is a small matter, though, not worth speaking about. If you want a book, Viola, Larry can get’you one as long as he knows where the key is “ What shall I send for!” “ Have you read any of the Waverley novels lately 1” Richard asked, and she answered with a shake of the head. “ l‘r y one of them,” he suggested. " Which one?” - “ Oh, it doesn’t matter, let chance decide; let Larry bring you whichever one he thinks proper." “ It will be as good as a lottery, won’t it? Well, Larry, if you will be good enough to go to the library and bring me a book; you choose for me :, it doesn’t matter which one, any of the Waverley novels.” “ Yes, miss,” and the man departed. “Here's u chance to win a pair of gloves!” crii'd the girl. “~ Richard, I will bet you that you rannot name the book he will bring.” “ That is a safe wager, for the chances are all in your favor, and [beg leave to decline.” She hantered him about his lack of courage until the servant returned. He had chosen “ Rob Roy,” delivered the book and then retreated. “Oh, I‘m afraid that I shall not enjoy this very much!" Viola declared, with the charm- ing pout which became her beautiful face so well. "If I remember rightly, it is all about fighting, and horrid, rough, savage pe0ple who talk in the most outlandish way.” . “ You haven’t any Scotch blood in your veins, it is evident. or you would never dare to asperse the Highlanddialectafterthntfashion 1” Richard declared. “ But you can lmk'at the ictures if you don’t like the dialogue, for the i1 ustrations are beautiful.” .The edition was a magnificent one, large in size and splendidly illustrated. “ Here goes for the pictures. then!” The girl openedthe book,and as she did so she exposed to view a folded paper which had been snugly hid between the leaves. 1_ “ Oh, my! what‘s this?” burst from Viola’s l y,” su gested Richard. ‘31 rise Denby lock up from is newspaper, big at- tention attracted by the exclamations. I: XV?“ is it i" hebasked. / etter. or a usiness paper of some kind hidden away in this volume.” ' ’ “ That’s odd!” he remarked. “Examine it and seewhat it is,” said Rich- i ard. Viola turned the paper over; there was an inscription on the other side, and she read it aloud: “The last will and testament of ' Trump Plantagenet." Mfllld. v.11 There was a dead silence in the room for a moment, and the three gazed upon each other with wondering eyes. The girl was the first to speak. “ What a strange place to put a will 1” “Oh, no; I have read of Just such things be- fore ” observed Richard. “Yes Ihnve read ‘of such a thing in a ro- mance. but I thought it was all pure fiction, I and i never behaved that such things did hap- pen intreality.” “ Where else do the writers draw their in- spiration but. from real life?” “ Open the paper and read it, Viola, and then we will know whether it is what it - ports to be or not,” Denby observed. not a all ages-ted by this mysterious and unex ted dis- covery, except that it set him to watc g Rich- ard’s countenance very intently. (‘1 your rdon, Denby, for interferin but 633% you t ink it would be better for ya; to exnmlDO the paper and make ourself master of its contents before you no t to the world! You era the head of the amily, and by ri ht entitled to examine any Mich Paper as this fora any one else." Donby’s lips curled slightly, and there was a Will look in his e)‘¢'- n ‘fBichard, on are r88 V STOW!“ i- movhs.” he reymarked. “ 0"”. ow [have wrongedyoul I never should have been will. ing to believe that you would yield to any such neroua sentiments- cu the contrary. I would va been certain that you would not scrapie to hka advantage of an and all means to ad- vance your fortunes. If this :8 my mother’s will, it is, doubtlem, the pa of which you gpoko the other day when t we convened the moot—New of which you knew something I knew nothing, strange as that may appear to any “prejudiced observer. If your statement of the contents of that paper wascorrect, then both you and Viola have de- cided] more interest in the matter than I, therefbre I prefer that one of you should ascer- what the document really does contain. 5f you place it in my hands and it strikes the blow at my fortune which you icted, I mightbecapable, if I were a wic ed man, of attempting to suppress it altogether.” not. for shame. Denby, to speak in that my 1" Via]. exclaimed. her face flushirg. “l gmm Vuu have no mm u. for unto Richard I MV“ and myself have the utmost confidence in your honor.” “ I echo Viola’s sentiments!” Richard hast- ened to add. ” I have the most perfect trust in your integrity, and as I consider you the only proper person to examine this paper, I must do— cline to do so first.” Viola brou ht the document and gave it into Denb ’s ban a, saying: “ ou must read it, for no one else will.” In the last few weeks the experience of years seemed to have come to the young man. He had become distrustful, and had learnedto trust more to the actions of those by whom he was surrounded than to their words. He was satis- fied that Riche rd Plantagenet was a crafty schemer who would not hesitate long lefore using any means which he thought would attain the end he sought. In this mysterious appearance of the will he sus ected a trap. His mother, of late years, ha not been much given to reading, and he thought that a book in the library would be the most unlikely place in the world for her to de— pOsit such an important document as her will: so it was with every sense on the alert to guard against tricker that he unfolded the paper. He read it t rough carefully, and then look- ing up, commanded: “ Listen, while I read.” And he proceeded to clearly rehearse the con- ientsof the paper nloud. The reader is already familiar with the char- acter of this paper, for it was the same as the one the stranger had sut mitted to the Philadel- phia lawyer as the will of Mrs. Brown. “ But this will rob you of your fortune, Denby l” Viola exclaimed, her eyes Opening wide. “ Yes, if the document is a genuine one.” “ ()h, but we can settle the matter among ourselves, since we alone are interested. We can pay these sums given to the charitable in- stitutions, without making the will ublic, and we can amicably arrange to divide t e remain- der. I am Sure neither Viola nor myself wish to reduce you to a bare annuity, Denby,” was Richu rd ‘3 declaration. “ The document is not worth the paper upon which it is written l” and Denby threw the will disdainfully to Richard. “ Take it! do with it what you please. It isa fraud, and I will not be beaten by trickery 11’ And in heat the young man quitted the apart- ment. “ It will be war, then. after all !” Richard re- marked, fr0wningly, “ and war to the bitter end I will make it. tOO! ' CHAPTER XXVII. our IN 'ras NIGHT. Tint housekeeper was pale, but stern resolve was stomped on her features. when she made her appearance from the wardrobe after the depart- ure of the senator. “You see, m dear. it is exactly as I told you. The old rute has thrown on the may now ; he thinks you are completely in his power, and 'is reckless in regaru to the conse- quences.” “ But surely he would never dare to carry on his three tsi” “Most certainly he would! You are here, helpless, a prisoneruin his hat-£3. n0,possible way ofesca e a ran y,0pen you. “ But? I nglald never consent to this infamous marriagr—I would a to the minister who came to perform the ceremony and denounce this miserable old wretchl”. “ On, he won’t have any real minister. It will only be some rascal dressed up; that is to quiet you you know, so as tomake you believe ou are is wife. There'l been many a poor, foo ish girl lured to her ruin by some rich scoundrel retending tube in love with her and flattering er vanity by offering to make her his wife. It’s an old saying that charity covers a multi- tude of sins, but if it was said that money coversa host of crimes it would be far more true. What chance would a poor, wronged girl, without money, stand, opposed to this mm, backed by both wealth and litical influence! He has entrapged you, and e is confident you cannot escape im. “ I will not consent to a marriage, and surely I cannot be forced into one!" i “ Why not i” “ I will resist even unto death.” “ If he finds you are d to be obstinate, 30 will not use fgil'dcei‘ b’ut cunning. He will W your food or n . “ h, horror!” cried the girl. terribly alarmed, for the manner in which she had been dosed by the Canary tribe was still fresh in her mom: 0". “ You are a prisoner here and will not be re-' until you consent to marry Hm.” “But \ou will aid men—you Will not “00 me sacrificed bv this inhuman monster?” cried Helm. In imploring accents. . “No. ygn shall not fall his Victim if I can you. ' “ It will cost you your place; I did not think of that.” “There i~n’t the lust fear of that; he would find it'difflcult to get any one to attend to his ' houseand keep it intheorder I do, and he knows it well enough. Besides, I had just assoon go away as not; I have been a saving, prudent wo- man, and have put by enough to start me nicely in some little business from which I can make a good living. I am sick of this old villain and had rather go away than not. " “ But. if the doors are locked, we are both prisoners!” “Oh, don’t fear about that; I have the sena- tor‘s own pass-key, which will open any door in- the house He dro ped it at dinner to—day and I found it after he sit the table; it wa< a luck chance; the hand of Heaven was in it, for if had not found the key it wruld have been a dif— ficult matter for me to have arSthGO you to- night. As it isI can do so, and no one Will be- the wiser. Now dress yourself, takeiff all the things bought with his money and put on your own again; be careful not to take with you a single article which “as purchas: d by him. for he lsa mean and petty man despite his wealth und station, and would be eupanleot’ having you arresed for theft if he could succeed in overtak« ing F in.” " hat would be horrible,” murmured the girl, as she dist-obed hurriedly, and put on her own garments again. “He is a malicious monster when aroused, but; this time he shall be bullied. Have you any money?” . , “Only a little.” “You must have mone or else you cannot get along. Here are ten ollars for you,” and she took from her pocket some bills and a note securely sealed. “Do you know how to reach Jersey City ?” “ Yes, ma’am.” “ Here is a note to a lady friend of mine who lives there; she keeps a few rs, and I have asked her to ta e you for a week or two, while you are looking for something to do. Her address is on the note. and any one will tell you where the street is after on get over the terrv. It Will not be necessary or on to explain v hat has taken place here. or be reason why you were compelled toleave. Perhaps it would be better not to mention this house at all. You can simply say, as I have said in the note, that you are an acquaintance of mine—that y u have just come up from the country, and that I have promised to assist you in getting WOTF : not! ing more will be necessary. She will receive you and look to me for her pay.” Tears of gratitude stood in Helen’s eyes when the housekeeper finished her speech. Surely Heaven was good to her to bring such a friend to her assis' tance in this her hour of mortal pen . She stammered forth her thanks, but Mrs. Spaiérow turned a deaf ear to the heartfelt wor s. . “ It is my duty, child—my duty to assist you, and I am thankful that We met, for I feel like a Christian woman again." ~ And now Helen, completely drencd,announced that she was ready;: “I will 'go on fore and see if the coast is clear, for it would spoil all if any one ‘saw- you leave the house. I 0 not think there is much danger, then b, for at this hour the servants are either all n their rooms or else congregated in the kitchen.” 80 the housekeeper went first, unlocked the door which led into the main building—as she had anticipated, the senator had secured it so that the risoner should not escape—then, after aacerta ng that none of the servants were lin- gering about in the hall, summoned the girl to descend. The reached the front door and out into t e darkness of the night without seeing— or being s..en—by any one. The housekeeper had caught up a light shawl and thrown it over her head as a protection against the dews of the night. “There is very little dang 1‘ now of our being observed, for the porter’s family are almost al- ways indoors at this hour,” Mrs. S ow said” a as)” approached the stone lodge which guard- ega . Fortune was favoring Helen on this occasion. for they passed by the house, and out through the gate to the road beyond, without detection- “ Now on are tolerahly safe.” Mrs. Sparrow remark , drawing a long tresth. “ You must keep straight on in this road; do not turn either to t e flarht or left. and it will bring you to the depOt. There isa train for New Y--rk at half— past nine, and you will have plenty of time to catch it. w ten you reach the city take the cab line 'at the depdt which connects with the idle- v'ited Railway and tell the conductor to let you off at the Cortlandt Street F. rr} . You will? get therein n couple of hours. and you will find the f In at the boarding-house up forthey keep late hours. and seldom go to bed heft re twelve. I will come down and see ycu as soon as it is ante, for [ am afraid the old demon n ey fill-pa“ that I have had a hand in helping you topscspe, and if he does, he in quite capable of settirp a watch upon me with the idea that T will be t pt to communicate with you after a while: svif vu; do not either see or hear from me witt iv a W“ k. or two you need not be slam-ed. plained in the letter which I gain: you that it. I have ex-fl is? ' P ’20 The Hawks and Wolves ofew York. might not be convenient for me to come to J er- sey tor some little time. I am determined this old scoundrel shall not recapture you, but I have no doubt he will do his best to find out where you have gone. you to keep in the house until I come or write you what to do. He is none too good to put the police on your track with some trumped-upstory that you have stolen something from the house, Of course, from what I heard him sayI know there isa mys'ery connected with your life, and he, like all evil-minded. brutes, thinks you would be air-aid to inv .ke ism assistance of the law to protect you from his inrsecution; but I cannot bring in.self tot ink in that way. If you are not a good girl, without; (2 .use to be ashamed of an thing you have i ver done, then I am no ju e of human nature." “ t isthetruth, Mrs. Sparrow!” replied Helen earnestly, “and when l hawun opportunity I will tell you all of my simple story, and you shall judge for y ou rsell.” “ 1 am satisfied to take your word for it, my dear; but go now, und'Heaven bless and watch over youi Do not be a raid, although the road does appear so dark and gloomy; there isn‘t the least dan er, and the annces are that in the mile or so etween here and the station you will not meet a single person. I very o' ten 0 down to the village after nightfal’, and it is 89 dom in- deed that encounter any one either going or coming, so you must not b 3 alarmed. Hurry right along, and when you come to the depOt do not go inside, for some one may notice you and sogive the old villain a clew. Remain in the neighborhood until the train stops; then get on board and pay your fare to the conductor, and thus baffle pursuit." Ag iin Helen thanked Mrs. Sp'irroe' with an eloquence which plainly showed the wordwame straight from her heart; there wasa parting em- brace and the girl hurried i. w: y. Mrs. 8 new watehed her until her figure vanished n the darkness which vailed the r all. Therefore it will be best for ‘ : the door, which was unlocked, and entered the room. I than described. The unrufiied appearance of the bed, showing that it had not been occupied, was a clear proof that the girl had got away during the preceding evening, yet how she could have succeeded in passing the locked door was a mystery. “ Oh, I have it!” he cried, in the most violent rage; “ there is a traitor in the camp, but who? Mrs. Sparrowl She is the only one in the house who would dare to do it, and there is a possi- bility that she has got a key which will unlock that outer door.” - He hurried down-stairs immediately, and had all the servants summoned, much to their won- der. ' It the night,” he declared. “She ran away to avoid the consequences of her crimes. I discov- ered last evening that she has been stealing ever since she came into this house; she ooiifesse i as much to me when I charged her with her crime, and begged me to have mercy upon her. I told her I would think the matter over, and would decide this morning, so I locked the door leading into the win so that she could not escape in the night. ut she has maua ed to elude my vigilance. Some one has un ocked that door and locked it again with a false key, and so permitted this vile little wretch, who turned to bite the hand that fed her, to escape. But I shall pursue her instantly, and give warning to the ipolice. I am not to be robbed with im- pun i As rs. Sparrow had foreseen, the old knave was going to play the old game of false accusa- Hull. “ Now, then,” he continued, “some one of you people here have helped this girl; somebody has “ Well there's one good deed l have done in ‘ my hfel’lshe exclaimed, in a tens of great satis- faction. “ I thoughtmy heart had hardened into stone but I guess it is still flesh and iilo ii, i. n or all. Now to return and prepare t » face t is ~in rascal. There will be a precious row kirk. d up in tie morning. but he will get as good a. lie sends fro 0 me.” And she retraced her steps to- ward the in ill”. As her tail figure vanished amid the gioom and the sound 0 her footsteps died away in the I distance, three men all mum-ad up in dark coarae ove. coats an with slouch hats pulled down over their foreheads, came from a clump of bushes by the wayside. They listened for a moment as if to be certain that the housekeeper had no intention of returning, and then with rapid, noiseless steps stole after the girl. CHAPTER XXVIII. ran PURSUIT. Buxsnnnio had made up his mind to use de- cisive and desperate measures with the girl. He had studied her intently durin the two weeks that she had been under his roo , and was satisfied that she was not to be tricked so easily “the common. vain, foolish women whom he had hitherto encountered. Despite the fact that there seemed to be a cloud around her when he had encountered her, and ‘he fact that she was advertised for in a public journal, gust as if she were a criminal mm justice, ye he saw that she was not dis- posed to yield a ready consent to his wishes. When he awoke the next mornin —tbe one which one eeileul the night on which‘ e had re- vealei the name of his plan to Helen—his first thought was in regard tothe best way to break the stub'iorn spirit manifested by her. “A little wholesome starvation will be as asanyt'wing, I guess,” he murmured, and hen he happened to glance at the clock. It was after nine; the senator had evenlept him- self—a natural result of the violent spree in which he had indulged on the preceding night. “I will go and see her the first thing. h murmured ~“deliver to her my ultimatum. Perhaps, now that she has had timeto think it ever, she may be inclined to,be more reason- able. The female sex are proverbialiy uncer- tain; I have kn -wn a great number of them to comm-thee bv saying no,’ when. all the while, thev intended to wind up by saying ‘ yes)” The senator was tryin to deceivo himself. for in truth he did not an icipate that she would “ weaken.” as he would haVe ex ressed it. After his toilet was made. umbleblg went straighttothe young woman’s apartment: the door leading from the main building into the wing was looked just as he had left t on the goosding night, and he chuckled as he turned okay in the lock. . “When she attempted to get out this morn~ ing she must have been very much astonished to find she couldn‘t. Just about that time, I guess, she came to the conclusion that she had amanto deal with who meant every word said, and that is the kind of a man I am!” He proceeded smilingly along the entry toths doorof her mom. knocked. then waitel for the newer. As none came he knocked Iain, an than. rather mystified by the silence, opened . got a key to that deorl I don't want to be hard on you; all of you have been with me a good while. and have f iund me a kin laud indulgent master, and I don’t wish to send any of you to prison, as I shall have to, unless the guilty party o was right up. 1 do not suppmo, of course, that whoever let the girl out had any idea of what sue had been up to. She may have iold a pitiful stoi y, and i understand haw such an art- ful hussy could impose on anv one very easily, moause she fo-iled me. and 1 fi utter myself I am not a man who is easily fooled, either. Come. make a clean breast of it so I can get on the girl's track, and i will look over the matter this time and say no moi e about it.” But not a soul op die; they only gazed at each other with inquiring faces. “ I know who it is, now i" shouted the senator, beginning to get i'rightfully enraged. “ I‘ll ive the guilty party the minutesto speak!“ an he took out his watch. The servants only stared more surprisediy than before, ve much amalod, but not par- ticularly alarm , for they were all accustomed to their master’s violent fits, which-rarely lasted long or did much damage. “ Five minutes are upi” No one stirred. “ Mrs. S rrow, you are the one who let that girl on l” he senator cried, shaking his finger menacineg at the housekeeper. “ ell, sir, if you believe so, I do not sup- pose it will be of any use for me to attempt to me my wages, I will go," r lied the woman, in a manner possib e, dr0pping a cour- Yo “ No, you won‘t! Not until you tell me :lhgre that girl has gonel" fairly howled Bum- e . “i you know, sir, how to make any one tell what they do not know, it is more than 1 do.” “ l’ll have you in a police court!” “ I am ready to o, sir, as soon as you are,” and the woman di not seem to be in the least mrwe ‘ Bu mblebig ground his teeth in rage. His threats were impotent and any one knew it “ See here, now. Mrs. Sparrow: I don‘t want to do anythin unpleasant," he remarkedz mak- ing a great e on to control his temper, ‘ but I must make an example of that wretched girl. It isn’t the money she stole; it is the idea of her doing such’ a thing after I fairly picked her out of the gutter. I’ll give you fifty dollars if you’ll tell me where that girl has gone." And the senator pulled out a big roll of bills to give due emphasis to the odor. " Lor’, sir, I’d liketo take the money, but it i would be only robbing you. How should I know anything about the girl? She was a kind of a haughty, proud thing, and never took much no- tics of anybody." “ Get out the carriage l" Bumbleb roared, satisfied that he couldn t extract any nforma. gourom Mrs. Sparrow by either threats or ri . When the coach came the senator hurried down to the station. The «master was very civil, indeed, but not the information uld he give in re- gard to the fu tive. In t, he was quite certain she b not taken any train the pre- ' His ra e, when he discovered it to be empty— , who? Who would dare to brave my anger?. secretary has absconded, like a thief in l deny it; so, if you will haVe the kindness in pay . l l l l i that the ird had flown, is more easily imagined i l Vious evening unless she had gone before seven O'clock. “ No, it was after seven, for I saw her at the house at about seven.” “ Then I am certain, sir, that she did not take a train at this station, for I have noticed every one who got on and off. I came on duty at seven.” “ Ah, but the little wretch, no doubt, was smart enough not to buy a ticket, and probably jumped on the car from the opposite side of ' the track just on purpose to escape observa- tion.” But the station-agent was positive he would have noticed her no matter which side of the track she had been on, so the senator was re- luctantl y forced to the conclusion that she had been shrewd enough to go either up or down the road to the next station, and there had taken the cars. “It is rather late but I will do the best I can to head her ofl',” Bumblebig muttered. as he proceeded to the telegraph office with the idea of telegraphing to the police in New York to be on the lookout for the runaway, and to ar- rest her the moment she was found, on the charge of theft. But, when he began to write the message, it suddenly occurred to him that he couldn’t givo a very accurate description of her dress. So the senator was obliged to return to the mansion in order to examine the things in the girl’s room so as to find out what she had worn aw av. Bumblebig was a regular old woman in some particulars, and unlike the most of mankind, was familiar with the details of a woman’s wardrobe; therefore he knew exactly what Helen had worn when she fled. “The little beast hasn’t taken a thing but what belongs to her," he growled, in great dis- satisfaction. “Never mind; l’ll swear that I dropped ten dollars in the room here, and when I came back after it. I found that she had gone and so I knew she had found the money and tied with it. That will do; if I cannot have who secretary, I will get square with her, any- way.” An hour afterward all the police in New York were on th - watch for an absconding girl, named Helen Home, accused of having robbed Senator Bumblebig of Tarrymwn. “She can’t escape me very long,” was the comment of the old sconnilrel after this precious piece of work was performed, and he was on the road t) his mansion, hungry for his hmk- fast, for so absorbed had he been in the wait that he had not stopped to take a mores to eat since he had ot out of bed. But when 0 got to the table he could not en'oy the food, being so full of rageandoha- n. “ Oh, I’ll be even with the jade if it cost me a thousand dollars!" he fumed. . CHAPTER XXIX. a s'roainr mrnavrnw. THE senator got up from the table with the feeling of a man who had breakfastm upon saw- dust aud dish-water, and barely had he . at c« an- i’ortabliva seated for a perusal of the morning journa when word was brought that son»: gen~ tlemen desired to speak with him. With a very ill race indeed thesenator went to ascertain what is visitors wished. He found three gentlemen in the ball—the same three who had started that morning from the private detective’s office on Broadway to hunt up the girl. There was Garrowcroft. the Englishman, Hut. tlebud, the detective, and old Canary—for the old scamp had been forced to come along," the Briton had declared he would not pa y him a cent until he an ertained that the information which he had given was correct. Canary bani remonstrated, but the 308'”. man was 1 kn a rock, and the old confidence-man was onliged to yield. Gargowcroiitflacted as kmgi:;lle:nxl; to niheg was-cum en mnical calwnl-‘TuSMI disappeared and he was never more exr . “ Senator Bumblebig!” he asked. “ Yes, sir. ” “ I have come in reference to a young lady who is now beneath our roof, I be. . v... The senator 0 his eyes. . “Miss Helen ome is the name understand.” . Bumblebig did not understand this at all. and rather resented the idea of anybody troubling themselves about his affairs. “No such person here,” he responded, short— 1 I y“I beg our pardon, but are you not mis- taken!" a ed Garrowcroft, politely. yet with tr -air of a man indisposed to stand any non- sense. . humblebig e loded; he was just in a good condition to gefln a row with somebody. “ Great Cmsarl” he exclaimed: “ am in m¥ own house, or am I not! Get out of here. or will have my servants kick you out.” Canary commenced to edge toward the door. but the other two stood firm. ~ bears,I «'ggl‘he Hawks and " No, you won’t!” cried the Englishman. i “No, you won’t, hoss flyi” echoed the detec— ‘ tive, never more in his glory than when lie had achance to bully some one. “I want you to understand that we came here on business, and we don’t want any gulf!" “1).; you know who I am?” roared the sena- tor, red in the face with rage at the idea of be- ing defied in his own house. “ b‘ir, it does not make a farthiniz’s difference to me who you are l” retorred (lari‘owcrol‘t. “ I have come here on business, and I do not pro- pose to go awa without transacting ii. You brought the gir , Helen Home, from New York, about two erks ago. I have ascertained in the village that she was in this house yesterday, find do not intend going away without seeing er.‘ “ N i, we don’t! Put that in your pipe and smoxe it!” added the detective. Canary, all this while, prudently getting nearer and nearer the door, for the servants had commenced to gather in the hall, and the pros- pects for a row seemed excellent. “The girl was here—a beggar that I picked out of the gutter, and she repaid my kindness by stealing everything that she could lay her hands on, and last night giving leg-hail.” “ What! That poor child steal—you infamous old scoundreli” exclaimed Garrowcroft, white with passion. Bumblebig got as red in the face as a boiled lobster. “ You villain! Do you dare to come here and insult me in my own house?” And the senator, fairly crazy with rage, made a blow at the other’s face, but the Briton, like the majority of his rare, was an expert in the art of self-defense, so, in the easiest manner possible, be parried thv 4'lll'n9ll7- aimed blow, and, with a single Well on 0611 stroke, laid the senator flat upon his back. Bumblebig struck with u howl of ra e and a concusinon that seemed to fairly she e the floor ; but he was on his feet again With remarkable agility, and like a mad bull again he rushed at the intruder only to again re- ache a whack which heeled him over a second me. The senator had got enough: the second stroke, which had materially spoiled the appear- ance of his countenance, had taken all the fight ouItIof “11:10.6 e ye to the servants to come and ick him up, and to put the strangers out. Thexilrst coininand they obeyed readily enough, but paid no attention to the second, on all their mics in conducting their hru and bat- mastsr to his apartment he groaning and aw in the most frightful manner. After the exhi, tion which they had witnessed of the rs w not one of aha-wag“ tags); . them had any n strangers were not disposed to retire. e housekeeper—who like the rest had heeuattracted by the noise of the altercation—- took itupon herselftos lain: ndesd xIl’iss Home is not here “ I tlemen, I now "shaman “She went away last night so- and without saying a word to any one, and . Bumbleb was mmuch annoyed this moi-sin whonho scov thstshe wasgone. He has hen the idea into his head that she act- ed dishonestly, but I hast up and examined her room. and I have not been able to discover that she has taken a single article which did not to her. The senator is very unreasonable '1... gets a notion into his head, and he in- m that sho’has stolen something, which is the reason why she ran away without m ng any- thing, So impre-ed is he with this saurd sus- ,icion that he has taken the trouble to tele- m totho police in New York, and inn-act, d tosrrestthe younglsdyif shocanbo tonld ’0 “ The infamous old scoundrel i” one Riglishman, in h in(lililltitlli. “If he had notshuuglit that poor child was alone and handles] he would never have dared to sub her to sue an insult!” M binned the “lad sir,shcssunedtobeanice,modosc Land d not look like a person who would 0 anything wrong,” and the cast it Willi”. Iidsws glance at the r justasif she mediated“ glome more,gut wasindoubtinregardtot ewisdom of so do. WEE would not, I am sure, and from what I have seen of this miserable old wretch, I feel cox-fire had good reasons for quitting his law , “ It is possible. lit. but of course, under the olmmstangee, I ought not to say anything about that. “And the unfortunate child fled without lsavi any clew behind by means of which she could traced!” “Kr. Bumblebig was not able to discover an ." ‘y'l'his is the W chapter of accidents; whenever I getupon t track of this poor child, something issure to bug)“: to throw me 01!. Well we must return to ew York and see if we can dud any clew there.” run their one Canary and the detective walhdnKout of the house; the Englishman fol. lowed, but paused just outside the door, the housekeeper being right behind him. “ Madam, I take it that you are a friend to this unfortunate child, who seems to be the prey of ill»luck,” he said, speaking cautiously, so as not to be overheard. “ Indeed, sir, I wish her nothing but good.” “If any information of her is gained, will you communicate with me? Here is my name, and my address is Brevoort House, New York.” The housekeeper read the name inscribed upon the on d aloud, then looked at the Englishman in a thoughtful way. “What is the matter—do you mistrust me?” “ No, sir,” she answered; “you look like a gentleman, and like a man who would not be , apt to harm a friendless, homeless girl.” “Upon my word, madam, I assure you it will he the lu<~kiest moment in Helen’s life when she meet.- me." “ You seek her for good, then—only for good ?" . “ Entirely for good. I pledge you that upon the honor of an English gentleman.” Mrs. Sparrow turned the card over and wrote a line, hurriedly upon the back. “There 1” she said, giving him the card: “ go to that address and perhaps you may gain some information, but do n -t disc ose to any one, not even to your companions, my agency in this matter.” “ Certainly not,” replied Garrowcroft, prompt- 1yz and putting the card carefully awa . ‘Good-by, sir, and may Heaven eal with you as you deal with her.” The strangers departed, and Mrs. Sparrow closed the door after them, feeling thankful that she had been able to put the Englishman upon the right track. On the wa to the depdt, Canary and the de- tective got to a Violent argument. Muttle- bud insuted that so long as the girl had not been found the old man was not entitled to any rew , while Canary declared that it wasn’t his fault if the girl had skipped in the n ht. lThe Englishman settled the dispute, tin-mg:I by pa in the money and ofleri a bun more {yer t e discovery of the fugi ve. When the city was reached, Garrowcroft rated from his companions, jumped into a cab and was driven to the address in Jersey City which . Sparrow had inscribed upon the card, but his utter astonishment, for he had absolute faith that he would receive in- formation, the people at the house knew noth- ing whatever of any such person as Helen Home although well acquainted with Senator Bumblebig’s housekeeper. ‘ The Englishman was utterly astonished, and knew not what to make of it. “ She meant it all right, I am sure T' he mut- tered, as he was being driven to new York again. “ Well, theouly thing to he done is to contrive a secret interview with her so she can explain.” CHAPTER XXX. a Lovnn’s ounsr. Qm a number of chapters have we trans- cribed since the one where the dotaik of the nice between the lovers on the beach at Long ranch were given. The forlorn country girl has figured m. neatly in our tale since then, but the man's name has not been mentioned {not we judg. few careful readers have failed gua- M Roland Beads and Denby Livingstone were one and the same. In his in ueradi turer, with al the wor before him to make a fortune in, hehad won the love of the country girl, although at the time he fancied that some months must clam More he would be in a condition to claim as his own publicly. The strange events though which followed his hisbe “alimw radii”: ":12: u n on o une w she hatgnherited from Gloster Plantagenet >————___——____ of a poor adven- seemed to smooth the th between him and his love and caused the o tacles which intervened to melt into thin air. Assoonashe recoveredfromtheshock occa- sioned by the dreadful y, he wrote a careful! guarded lettertoiie n, addressing it , to the v‘filsge and it Roland Reade. In 1 the letterhetold hertobeof goodheart to 309? up her courage, for the uture looked i gentler, and he me ,no doubt that all would I we , He did not affix any address to it as he judged it wisest that the girl should not answer the ' pa :1 to. , Then when affairs were all settled,and every- thing loomed to be going smoothly, he was an able to control the fever of im tience which h‘d upon himtolooksganonthesweet face of the beautiful girl who had won his heart, and he wrote agin, This time he ld her that he thought he would ; be able to arrange matters so that she could oometothe citv it sheso desired, and that in a; very few months now. he would be able to ful- ._ flu 1' promise and make her his bride. ; This note he also signed Roland Beads, and l I olvs o 3 unravel 21' dim-ted her to ad iress .v i i in care of the gen— eral p st-i flit-e. Ten days went by wi :iout his receiving an ansthr, and, just us he mid about given up all idea of hearing from Mr, and was meditating a trip to Long Branch, it ) see What had become of her. he received a letter, post marked Long Bunch. 'l‘he handwriting did not seem to he hersr though, and he opened the envelope it its a ure- sentiment that be war about to hear llhil news. The letter was from old Wayhit. and 'riefly said that he had is 'eived b’ith letter~ w i iiten to , Helen, and that he uiilierefuld the trick of writ— : in letters to her expecting that they would ' fa i into his hands and so lead him to think that the writer had nothing to do with her flight. l But he knew better, and unlesa Helen was in- stantly sent back to him he would apply to the law to restore his ward and to punish her ab. ductor. Denby perused the letter with a grave face, girl, for a moment, was almost dazed by the ow. Helen was gone; she had fled from her home and yet had not come to him as he had direct- ed her to do in any such emergency. Another idea occurred to him: was it true? had she really fled. or was it only a cunning trick on the part of the old man to keep him. from coming after the girl? Waybit was q-iite capable of such a thing and so the young lover determined to heard the lion in his den—the Jersey farmer amid his pines—and ascertain the truth. A few hours later Denby was walking in through the gate of the farmer. Old Waybit, who had been busy tending to his crops that morning, was cooling 08 in the shade of a large locust tree. Not knowing the young man by sight, the- old fellow only surveyed mm with the natural curiosity that the majom y of rural dwellers feel at the si ht of a stranger. “Mr. Way it?” “ That’s m name.” “ I have a 'ttle b'isinais with you.” “Sart’in; sit down,” and he kicked an ski stool, which stood by the rude bench upon wflcb he reclined, over to the visitor. “ I desire a little information." “ Well, I s’pose I can givoiit if there’s no 0hr jection.” “ It is in regard to a 09an young lady—” The old man sat bolt upright. “Helen who new lives with you.” “ Oh, I know you now i" cried Waybit, in a sudden outburst of rage. “I suspicioned you when I saw you coming up the road. You‘re arter Helen, are you, and you are the Mister Roland Reade who has been writing letters from York to her?” “You are quite right, sir; Helen knew me under that name.” “And what have you done with her! How dare you come here and take my galuwayff Don’tyouknowlkintake thelawoo and I w too. unlessyoubringbackths 1” “And Helm is not here, theni" Denhy gush tiousd,ey theoldmsnshsrply,soastshc certain w ho was truth or not. “You know in ain't hm! and you can't, fool me with nding not to know anythin'fi about her. cu just bring the gal buck, or I go to law about it. Ain‘t you ashamed of your. self,a nice young gentleman forte come and coax a man’s gal to run ed with you! You have on sway my support, and how am I go- b! toget my living howl” You didn’t that the girl would stay inthis desolate and work all hsrlifo for you!” demanded by, in indignation. _ “ i didn’t want her to work,” retorted the old man. “She workedof herownaccord,’cosfie liked to work, and would rather work than be idle. But it wasn’t for her work that I wanted her. Iusedtogstaregularsumofmosis each month for taking care of her, andwhen ran away, somehow, the lawyers in New York heard'pf it, and they stopped the payments dead Dsnby was amused at this information. and felt convinced that if the old man would hecould a clew which would enable him to mystery enshrouding the birthand early childhood of his betrothed, although it seemed robahle from what Daddy Wsybitssid that he now very little about the matter. “ I don't exactly understand you.” Denby roe marked. “Do you mean to sag thstyoure- ceived a regular amount m n ly for taking care of Helen, an i that when she left home the ylnents stopped?” ‘ That law atIsaid and no lieaboutlt, dther. Ever so many years ago when she was. only a baby, these lawyers that I spoke of made an arrangement for me to take cu. 0‘ 30100 and bring her up as my own child. Thishere farm was deeded over to me.snd I received twentv~ilve dollars a month cash, and now the blamed thing has all bu‘st. and I’ve got to work. for my living, worse luck.” “ And you never knew anything about the per-sonar personswho placed the childwith‘ you?" “No! thtdldlcsretcrthem,soh>ng as I. n—{VHI . -‘ r 22 got the mono all right. I only knew the law- yers, that’s a! , and i was one of the conditions of the thing, too, that I shouldn’t try for to find out anything about the child—whose she was, you know, and what did I care 'as long as I got the money i” “ And now payment is refused because she is 9?” “Of course that is the reason! What other reason can there be?” “ But do the lawyers say that is the reason?" “No, they don’t; did you ever catch a law- ~ yer to own up to anything or to tell the truth in hislife? Nobody ever did!” “ But what do the lawyers say, then?” “Oh, they lie, as they always do," the old man snarled. “The money has always come to hand regularly, on the first of every month, but when the first of the month came this time the gal had been gone about a week: of course I didn’t think that w0uld make any difference, but it did, for the money didn’t come. I waited four or five days, and then I wrote up to York ’bout it, and the answer came right back that there wasn’t an money for me, so I went up to the city myse f to see about it. The lawyers were polite enough, but they didn’t give me a bit of satisfaction. They said that the year had ended and they had aid me all the money that had beegflaced in t eir hands. The way they explain the matter was that the money for the year was placed in their hands in a lum , at the he nning of it, and then they pai it out to me a monthly parts. The money was gone; no more had been paid in, and they supposed that the party did not intend to ay any longer. Of course I said that there ht be some mistake about the matter and t at they had better see the~ party, and tell ’im the money was gone. But no; the said they reck- oned the thing was all over. an that I had bet- ter be content with‘what I had at. Then I asked if I couldn’t see the arty, ut they said they couldn’t give me any nformation as they did not know the address now—a blamed lie, of course. To kinder smooth the matter over I said that if I had k'own that the party would- n’t like it, I wouldn’t have let the gal go of! on a hit, but, anyway, I would fetch her right home. I thought that would fix things, you know, but the didn’tseem to pay any atten- tion. The 01 fellow said that it ,didn t make any difference where. the gal was, whether she was away or with me: the money had stopped and that was the end of it: but they didn’t 001 me for a cent. I knew they had found out that the girl had run away, and that was why they had stopped the money.” , , " It was plain to Denby now that the mystery surrounding his beloved was even deeper t he had antici ted. . . » , “Suppose go and see the law ers-” . . yes; you want to catc some of .the moueyi ’ criedthe old man, angrily; " Just you bring the girl back, that’s all !’ ' It took a long time for the you man to 'con- viaoe the old scamp that he real y knew nothv but .had: ‘ ing of Helen’spresent Wheresbauts come in searchof her; but at Inst'oid Waybit acknowledged. that he might be mistaken, and then Denb’ astonished him. by so ng he would- gve him ve hundreddollarsui "he'could-find- elen_—a proposition whichthe other—accepted greedily. enough. - ' A heavy heart Denby bdck with him , I the city; and now there was another man eager . ‘ - .i v I ml ht‘ do,” he repl to find Helen Home. . ,3 . - CHAPTERXXXI. _ _ a rscumsa (immerse; Ricmn Pmraonmtr had not let the , i I 6_ grow under his feet-after. Liv , rided his ofler for compromise, or it was. then plain he could only gain the ends he sought by 0903950 ,lifll'o‘ .. ' He ha retained, as his counsel,.one of the most noted of the tribe ,to be found inkNew York—a noted limb of the law, by name Colo- nel Baldwin Albany-mores genera l The colon was a tall, rather lean man, short- :‘fghted', and disreputable-looking, having one the mod fieryred nOSes. overseen upon a mortal. , a _ a =_v : - - His line of practice was peculiar; he seldom appeared in a court-room, or argued a case, for he was not a fluent speaker; his appearance was very much against him,- and. the odds were about ten» to one that hawouldvbe under the in- figence of liquor when must needed. He confined himself almost entirely to f urnishingadvice, and of hisclients nine-tenths of them were lawiers, and some of them men who ranked as leaders at the New York bar. But, able men as they were, in subtle legal questions, they were con- tent todraw in iration from drunken. disrepu- table Colonel- ldy. No better counsel, no clearer exponent of the law was there- in the dty than this same old, and, apparently, worth- - less drunknrd. And to Colonel Baldy Richard Plantagenet went for advice. . '. Richard brought the will with him out for the colonel's inspection, and the Wins in regard to it. spread it etailed all .1 ~:,court-room. e j | how im robable that a lady like Mrs. Planta- ' ' about" the"thlng? Throw aside‘ terest in the matter and examine it‘just as 1 known as' Colonel Bald ,becsuse of hisgbald pate. .~ ~ , The Hawks and VWWolves r of York. As it happened, Baldy was sober and in the certain time. and these two men saw her sign, I and are prepared to swear to it?” best possible condition for business. He chuckled over the story of the finding of the will. “ Beautiful, me b’ye, beautiful!” he remarked. The colonel was an Irishman b birth, and his l l speech was enriched with a slight and melodi- I ous brogue. “I couldn‘t have arranged the 1 thing better meself. Found in a book, promis- c’uslike, in the parlor, before all of yees!‘ Beautiful, upon me conscience.” “ Take a look and see if it is all right. I had it examined by D., of Philadelphia, and he said there couldn’t be any question in regard to . ,. “ He knows the law, but you see you don’t, any Jack could tell that; but it’s the circum- stances connected with it that we must look into. S’pOse I show Mr. D. a check for ten thousand dollars, signed by Astor or Vander- bilt. Wouldn’t he, on the face of it, say it was good? The signature is there, and either man is good for the amount, but when it comes to proving that the man actually did si 11 the check, begorra ! if he didn’t, wouldn’t we 3 ip up?” they saw her write it.” “That is good enough. ‘Jerry Bitters and Larry Marble.’ Faixl me b’ e. them names are not illigant ones to tackle a fury with.” “ Bitters was the coachman and Marble a waiter in the house. They happened to be near at hand,and were called into the room to wit- ness the signature of the old lady.” “An’ the will swear to thati’ “ They ll.” “ Did the come high?” whispered the lawyer, with a drol smile. Richard‘s face darkened. all a joke, and I take my whack at it as I go along,” the colonel explained. “But I say; this name, Bitters, is familiar to me. Maybe it “He is the man you procured 11 for the other day—the House of Detention, don’t you re- member ’ “ Oh, yes; he’s the man that made the charge ag’in’ youn Livingstone about murthering his mother, an he’s one of the tellers to swear to the will!” “ You don’t like that.” “I don’t like this pa at all! Faith! I’d tear it all to ieces i I got hould of it in a ewel! see how weak it is! net 8 ould will away four or five million ollars in her bedroom without an 1a or to draw the pa up, and a coupleo the owest servants in t a house as witneues!” “ I. drew it out at her request; ' I was familiar enough with the usual forms.” _ ' “ And you are one of the principal legateesl 0h, me b’ye, you on ht to nave known better than that, d’ye seel. 'suspicious‘the whole matter‘ isi‘ No wonder Denby Livingstone laughs at ye, and defies ye to make avatand on this will.” “ find is it not good enough to risk a con- , ,“ If you want to get beat afore ye begin, it ,with true Irish humor. on’t ye see that there is a sus icious look 1 your in- if ye knew nothing at all about it. Wouldn't ye be apt to say, at the first glance, there’s something wrong about this paper! The book sucha thing was mighw improbable. Why did she put it in a book? ‘ hy wasn’t it in the safe, among the rest of her a rs!"—- and then a sud- den idea occurred to t e awver, for he knew all the particulars regarding Mn; -deat , having posted hiinself‘ when called upon .to interfere in the case of the tness detained in the House of Detention. In" hissliarp, 'shrewd way he looked Richard straight in the e e for a moment, and the other, understanding an in- stant what was passing in the mind "of the law er,-scowled darkly. ' muted, apparently talking more to himsen than to his client, “ and I don’t think it is- wise to go into it: it‘s like a man taking hould of a rat b the tail; there's no telling how the affair w' end; the man may get more than he bargained for. And then these two Witnesses—no doubt they are all cooked and primed and know ex- actlv what they are to swear to.” ' “ 0", yes, I have seen to that.” “And they will stand cross-examination l" , ' “ I think'so.” “ And they won’t let out that you coached thim in regard to what they were to swear?” . ‘; Oh’, no; I warned them particularly on that nt. - ' “ They must be foine witnesses if they are all fixed beforehand'for a crass-examination. And now tell me, me. jewel! this will was signed b Mrs. Plantagenet in her own bed-chamber at a is beka’se it reminds me of somethin to drink." ’ on’t you' apprehind how 1 “ ell, well, it’s and business,” he mur—. “Oh, but there i~n’t anv doubt about Mrs. é Plantagenet‘s signature! Thero it is; plenty of ; persons can be found to testify that it is her sig— 1 nature, and the two witnesses can swear that ‘ * tiful. and that is where you led him into a ditch. On J the face of it, as an instrument, it is all right; } “Oh, don’t mind my joke, me b’ye! Life is (0 “ And you have got the time, so that one man won’t say it was four o’clork in the after- noon, and t’other chap swear it was nine at night?” “ Oh, I looked out for that; it was just about five, for the clock on the mantel-piece struck the hour while they were in the room.” “ That’s a fome idea—the clock is really beau- But here’s another p’int: supposing there was some mistake about this matter, do you know where these two men were at five o’clock on the day in question?” Richard understood exactly what the lawyer was driving at~the point was one which had not occurred to him, carefully as he had plan- ned all the details of the scheme. He thought the matter over for a moment, and then shook his head. . “Ye don’t know?” I‘ No.” “ Suppose these twO men swear that the will was signed in their presence in the Fith avenue house, on a certain day, at five in the after- noon, and some witnesses—who ha\e nothing to do wid the case, and are not interested in it at all, swear that at five o’clock on that very day one man was drinking beer up in Third avenue and t’other playing billiards down- town?" “ But such a thing is very unlikely l” “ Is it? Begorra! if you had been tripped u in that ,way in your life as many times as have, you w! uldn’t say so. Don’t ye know that it isthe unlikely things that are always happen- 1 5‘ Then it is of no use to think of fighting this {ill through?” Richard observed, with a gloomy ace. “ No use! Ye don’t stand the ghost of a chance." “ Look at that l” and Plantagenet tossed an- other legal-looking document across thetable. “ ‘ The will of Gloster Plantagenet ’—every- ' thing willed to ‘my only daughter’; executed x - usiness was very cute, but for a woman to do ‘ Plantagenet’s ' ten years , and witnessed by John Matthews and James raham—” “ Then clerks in Plantagenet’s ofil ~e-—” , “ And now brokers on their own account in Wall street. I know both of them. They are the right kind of men for witnesses. I’ll go all I'm worth on this paper. ,That isn’t saying much, thou h, unless ye lump in what I owe along wid w t I have. I’d be willing to do it, an’ call it uarc.” _ “ This wi was executed just after the birth, of his female child; that child died; now is not the mother, this same Mrs. Plantagenet, while will the other paper is supposed to be, the helrof that child?” ' I’ “ Hould on a bit. No doubt he intended to leave his property to that infant daughter, but he doesnt say so; he doesn’t mention her by name: He only says ‘to my oldest daughter.’ : How do 1you know that he hadn’ta daughter, or a coup e of dosens of. .for that matter, across the water? Some oft ' ' forei ers in the divil'for‘lea'ving theirfamilles be nd when -’ they emigrate ‘and get of the water. Of course t is retty certain that he meant the infant who a , rward died but he doesn’t say so, and his oldest daughter, ii she exists, born in lawful wedlock, can, take the new'cnes. on this'sidb ‘ property in spite of everybod , ,and it don’t; , matter the scratch oils 'in .‘w ere she comes Q from, or who was her mot er.” ' Ric-hard was silent for a moment, as if in,‘ thought. “ I am on her track, and since I can’t make, terms with Denby'I will with her,” he at length ’ remarked. V. , . .. r “ Then he had been married before and had ‘ dau hter b that marriage?” I “ es,” ichard admitted. “ Then,” assured the enamel, ‘f if you can find, -. her ou’ll win he 0nd a doabt.’.’.' " h, I’ve got" with this assurance be de oaArrnafxxle a Discovnar. . Tm: moment'Denby arrived in the city, after, his unsatisfactory visit io'the old farm in the pines, he hurried to the office of Ned Purchase, the law er, and laid the whole matter before 1 him. 0 thought that the .lawyer,lwith his "great ex rience in regard to the undercurrents of New ork’lil’e, Would be able to afford him some amistance in his endeavor to trace the girl, for that Helen had come directly to the city he felt sure. ' ‘ “ Certainly! Deligh t-d to do anythmg I can for yea,” the lawyer observed, after the young man had explained the object of his visit» “Helen Way it,” he murmured, as he jetted the name down in his notebook; “it seemsts methat that name is familiar; I’ve heard it be- fore, and only reoentl , too. Let me see! I’ll be han ed if it wasn‘ in one of the Herald’s na , onl a week or so ago, too!” i “ I did not see it, but then I seldom read the advertisements." ' “Jump in a car with no and we wil ride down to the office. ltwas odya wedr or two 0 "er safe enough, I think,” and , Wu... W.,‘wkrr~—w-l~.- move“. .0...» ua—a—wu mafia...“ We: as.“ » Wm isc.-,,..»‘ ago, and we can easily find it by looking over a bio of back pa ” As the lawyer had said. it was not a difficult matter to gain the information. “ And who is this Mr. Muttlebnd who desires to find out about the girl!" Denby asked. “He’s a rivate detective who has an ofiice up—town. am well-acquainted with him, and I have no doubt that I can easily find out what he wants of her, and if he has found out any- thing about her.” “It may be a device of the old man. We - bit, to get on her track," Denby suggested. lg’e :iad explained all the particulars fully to the SW 61‘. “ think not; for how would he know that she had called herself Helen Home after com— ingtithe city? But it is idle to waste time in speculation when in half an hour we can find out all about it." fl Away then went the pair to Muttlebud‘s of- ce. The detective was in and ready to oblige Mr. Purchase to the extent of his power, but not the least bit of information could he furnish, excepting that he was employed by Mr. Gar- rowcroft, who was an Englishman, and who had only been a little while in this country, to hunt up the lost girl; but as to what he wanted with her, after he found her, was a mystery too deep for him to solve, although he had been exerting his gigantic intellect upon the sub- ject ever since he had been employed in the search. “ He‘s a deep old cuss, I tell you, gentlemen !” the detective declared, in that impressive stvle which was his chief stock in trade. “Yui can’t pum him any more than on can pump 00d old ourbon whisky out o; a coal—mine. ’ye tried it. and slipped up on it, and when I slip u , what chance is there for any other morta man! Ned can tell on that. But one thing, gentlemen, I can te you: he has been spending money like water for to find this gal, whatever he wants of her; but as to why he does that. I have given it up as a conundrum l lion ago.” . “ on have absolutely no trace then?” ob- served Denby, rather disco . “‘Well,'I hath hold of the tail of an idea, but whether it ll amountto anything or not is a question," and the detective assumed a wise look. “ Here's a letter that I've run across and I may be able to work something out of it, theses no telling,” and Mnttlebud got out his pocket-book to show the letter. “ It's from a teller to the gal, making an a mntment, and it may be just possible that s e managed to find him and he has stowed her away somewheres." Then he fished out the letter. "‘ It is signed Roland Reade.” - ' “ That .is my letter!” Denby exclaimed. “ That is the name under which she knew'me. When -I made her acquaintance I had good rea~ son for not wishing that she should know my true name." ‘ ' : ' “ I sec;- it is the old idea—the prince in dis- ; .” Purchase remarked. The lawyer was inclined to be somewhat iven to romance'at times: “ You didn’t want er to knOw that n were Denby Livingstone the heir to four or $3» millions, but you wan to beloved for your- self done." ' ‘ ’ “That was my idea precisely}: the other ad-' mitted. v Tad detect!" 9'1"“ ul7‘his ears 'at-the men. 'tion of Livingstone’s'wealth.' Hero m ‘ man to whom 'it‘ was worth his while to‘- twang, ing, so with the opening remark that be pro. sumed Mr. Livilafietone would liketo know all he could in regs to the girl, he “km .1, he knew about the affair. “ I . Of ecurse with the knowledge that I,“ , obtained from old Canary, it wasoomparguvely totrace the comer of the girl from the time she left her home in Jersey‘u tothe per-iodwhen she fled from the house of nator Bumblebig. Andtheblood of the oung man fairly boiled 'in his Veins when he earned of the infamou. accusation which the enmed old rogue had‘ made against her, and when he said as much, Muttlebud, with great delight. related how handfisomely the Englishman had polished 08 the sens r. < ’ “ I will take an early Opportunity to call upon him and thank him for having thrashed the old sooun'drei and brute.” ’ H He’s a bad egg.”remarked the lawyer. “ He has been mixed up in three or fourwomen scrap“ to my knowledge. but by the liberal use of money and calling upon his stench political friends for aid. he easily overcame all roeecu- tion where a meaaer man in such a tuation most certainly would have eto Sing Sing.” “Yes, he’s a bad 'un,” c imed in the detec- five‘ had, b the by. if {on call upon Mr. Gar- rowcrof‘t pe aps he wil be willing to tell you why he is so anxiousto find the i. when he won why you are so deeply ntereeted in fl 40' we go for hire at once.”suggested g. fiuwyer. “There isn't anything like strik- when the iron is hot." “5 You'll find him at the Brevoert House.” Hunting the detective for his kisdnw, the H To Hawks and Wolves ofmyevvjf‘ork.w 23 l l ' two withdrew and immediately proceeded to I to throw over her head, Bill: and you, Jack, seek the Englishman. I That gentleman was at home, and although ' at first he was somewhat disposed-after the fashion of his countrymen—to be uncommuni- ‘ cative, (yet, after Denby had introduced him- , self, an with the generous frankness of youth, ? explained fully how it was he came to take an ,‘ interest in Helen. the Briton‘s reserve vanished. l “I cannot just at present imitate your can- ? didness and explain to you wh it is that lam 1 so anxious to find the poor old] , but I will say I ' that you may rest assured I intend her no harm, , but, on the contrary, much i termined that she shall be discovered, no matter " how much it costs.” good, and lam de- " pick her right 12 in lIyour arms and put her in the wagon, and w' l clap the sponge to her nose, so as to keep her from making an outcry. Let me know when we et near the road, if either of you can, for I’ be hanged if I can make out anything in this darkness.” Then in silence they stole along, seeming with their noiseless steps, like so many spectral forms. They had got quite near the fugitive, when one of them gave the warning that the cross- road was near. “Stand ready when I k to her and she turns, to throw the blanket over her head," the r leader commanded. i More than this the gentleman was reluctant : to say; and so, aftera brief but pleasant inter- 7 1 going right before sh. proceeded. view, the twain withdrew. “Suppose we go and see the superintendent ‘ i of police?” the lawyer now proposed. “ He is i posted about all matters of this kind, and‘he ; I claimed. ‘ might be able to give us an idea.” Livingstone thought the suggestion a good one,fand so away they went to interView the . chie . 5 The superintendent was in his office and lis- tened attentively while Purchase told the story of the missing girl. “Helen Home!” he said; “ why, I had my at- tention called to her case esterday morning, and it cropped up again to ay. Senator Bum- blebig, who has a place up on the Hudson, was - after her with a sharp stick; he char ed her with levanting with some of his valuab es, and telegraphed a full description of the girl, how she was dressed, etc, and r nested me to catch her if I could. I notified a of our men, and from one of the upper incts, not an hour ago, I got word that on the river’s bank, near ‘ the rai road, a lot of women’s clothes had been ‘ found. outwar ‘ garments, hat, etc., answering exactly to the description given of those worn by the girl. The suppmition is, of course, that she has committed an cide.” . For a moment the young lover sat like a man stunned at this unexpected and heavy blow; then he roused himself with an efi’ort and , declatij'led that he could not believe such a thing ‘ e. . “ Of course it is all mere supposition; it may ; not be her garments at all. Suppose you go up ‘ there and see for yourself!” The advice was good, and the pair acted upon it immediately. ~ An hour later they were at the up-town sta- ;. tion-house; the superintendent had givhn them a note of introduction to the officer in of the station, so they were received with honor. / The garments were produced and Denby, with a shudder, recognised them immediate) . They were the same that‘had been worn by t e rl when he parted With her on the beach at on Branch! St 11, Livingstone could not bring himself to believe she had committed suicide. The ofilcer who had found the clothes hap- pened to come in. just then, and. at the sugges- tion of the ca tain, he conducted Denby and ' garments. ‘ It was a secluded spot, and just such a one as selected to take the lungs into eternity. But neither Li histone her the lawyer be- lieved in the suicide t eory. . o “ She is alive, depend u n it!” Purchase de- cla ; “and this clothes nsiness isa cunning trick, worked either bwr or somebody else, to throw pursuit of! the .k.” “ I will not rest until I find her 1” Denby cried, pith all the fervor of a young and anxious ' ever. ‘ ' And now then, what was the truth in rd to this matter—what had become of the gu- 9 ' ' Once again We will follow on herfi ing foot- steps as she harried along the dark an lonesome count road toward the railroad station. never dream ‘ three fel ows, whose unprepossessing a 0. would have made even a stout-hearted man apt to give them a wide berth, if encountered in a lonely part of the road. .———— CHAPTER XXXIII. * srnanon quaarnas. ALONG the road hurried the girl, eager to catch the train. She had no fear of being over- , taken, since her escape would not be discovered 9 until morning. Therefore the Paid but “m. ! attention to her surroundingS. 80 “10 Hummus ‘ men, stealthin creepin after her. were 3b“ w . approach quite near be ore she discovered their ‘ prgs'ence. l‘hat’s the girl,” the tallest and Mute“ 0‘ ; the men had remarked. he has come a long distance ” added one of th: others, “ but she trots along llvell” It s wonderful the strength some of these ga‘l‘s have,” the third man observad. “ The wagon is at the cross road, isn’t m" “ Yes, it’s at the next road." We had better 0 tor her just as soon as we get to the road. ave your blanket In "ad? the lawyer to t 9 place where he had found the. a desperate mortal, tired of life, would have . " 'upper part, so that any one 'in‘the entry codd I that hard upon her track followed" outlines of a human form ‘surethat she was awake. ‘ished‘, the eyes of the girl And just as the girl reached the cross-road, she hesitated, as if to make sure that she was The foremost masked man improved the op- portunity. “is that you, Miss Cadwaladeri" be ex- Helen turned, surprised, and a little alarmed that any one had approached so net-r without her knowledge, yet somewhat reassured by the man‘s speaking as if he believed her an ac- quaintance; but even before she could reply a dark figure darted forward and threw a blanket over her head, and despite her struggles and mufiied screams she was lifted by strong arms and carried to the covered wagon standing near. When she was placed in the vehicle, with a dexterous hand the leader produced a chloro- formed s n e. which was quickly applied to the nostri s o the still struggling girl. Despite her moans and d rate attempts to free herself, little by little or senses reeled until at la>t nature was conquered and the girl lay senseless, at the‘mercy of the attackers. “ It’s all right, governor" she has give in,” observed the man holding the girl in his arms. “ Prop her up on the back seat between you ' two, and give her fresh air. We don’t want her to smother now, after all our trouble,” the “ But if she shows sign , leader commanded. of reviving so as to make an outcry, let me know: but I don’t think she will, for i gave lu- ' an awful dose.” Away the wagon went to the southward at rapéd speed. hen Helen recovered ooneciouane. she found herself upon a small, low bed in a little room plainly furnished. It was a r_ . apartment, being long and narrow, with a win- dow at one end and a door at the other. . Through the window the moonl ght shone so surround: that she could easily distinguish her he only pieces of furniture in the room we‘re two beds, upon one of which the girl reclined. The other stood by the opposite wall of the ' apartment. The heads of both‘b‘eds were to- ward the window and after a few wondering: glances around—for Heleu'wa‘s dull and da at first—she fancied she could distinguish the othgeoghercouch. , ‘th id h on ergoserestedupon ewn' owthroug' which the moonbeams shone and,to her sur- prise she diseovered‘that: ti) guarded on the outside by stout iron bars. ‘..‘ the clothes e'cas‘ementwas" Inlthe door, too, was 'a little window, in the , look into the room. I Was it a prison, theni ' ' ‘ ‘ Then the girl looked at herself.' She was ly— ing on the outside of the bed: her outward ments had been removed, and she was now in a beautiful blue- silk‘ dress. exquisitely madb' " and trimmed.‘ Upon‘ her wrists were'costly bracelets, and half a down merited her fingers. , - . Helen was so surprised at this metamorpth that, involuntarily, she rubbed her eyes lobe The surv‘ey of the room and her ain turned it!) the occu t of the other bad. sl’ ngtheretshewas sure. -. . a , . noble at last to restrain her guidei and surprise she arose, determined to, see i he: jeweled'riags y" _ o personifin- hat someone was thonghts'were right or wrong; but she put it's! ' feet to the floor only‘to discover “that sh‘e’ was so weak and dizzy thafishe could hardly keep‘ her feet: the walls of t e apartmentseemed to fairly spin around her, and it was fully ten minutes before she was able to,de without support. , ' ' At last, though, the dizziness passed'away sufficiently to enable her with slow and ulcer-- tain steps. to cross the narrow floor. to find that , her surmise was correct; the bed was Occupied by a sleeper—e. young and rather prettywoa man, although, even in her slumbers, thee! was a strange, wan expression upon her features. Was this woman, like herself, a wasshe a guard ,and spy? And w at was the meaning ‘of all this strange affair! The 31ch ing woman certainly did not look like one placed there upon guard, but more like a sick and feeble girl. who needed care and attention. “Possibly I can find some one without who will explain the meaning of all this,” the gt} murmured as- she advanced to the door. b8 " $ cones-.or " 24 The Hawks and Wolves of New York. when she tried to open it found that it was locked. Through the little window she could look into the entry Without. It was quite a long passage, and a. aslight was burning at one end. It looked fiike a hotel env ry, for it was nicely car- peted; some easy-chairs and a couple of small tables were placed along it, at intervals, and there were no has two (night doors opening into it, four on each she, and all of them with the little window in the upper part exactly like the one in the door of the room u here she was con- fined, and at each end of the entry was a solid 1 door without the window. “ What does it nman?” questioned the girl, after she had thoroughly surveyed this passage and then ,ieturned and seated herself upon the ed c of the bed. “ Is it a prison?” gee pondered long ano painfully over the strange situation—over her elegant garb—over the seizure and ab luctlon—over her extraor- dinary adventures since her advent in the great city z—pondered, but could not answer one of the questions which she asked herself. Happening to glance down the front of her dream she discovered a gold chain attached by a hoo~< to a button-hole while the other end went into a little pocket at the waist. “ It is a watch,” she wondered. and then drew out the most elegant time lece her eyes had ever beheld—a tiny thing, a blazing with dia- monds! it was running, and the time was ex- actly four o’clock. “A few hours more and I shall know what all fliis moans.” CHAPTER XXXIV. run srmenn‘s sroar. I a short time the chorus of the birds without began, and the girl, used to count life, under- stood that this outburst of melody eralded the coal of the morn. G will the fumes of the potent drug which had cloud her brain cleared away, and by the time the first grog light of the morning mine shuling in throng the window, he began to fool somethi like her own self. When the ht became so strong that she could distinguish objects without, she went to t; winrl'lclwvvi and looks-d forth. M k “k ru ew met or eyes,s e,par - e on. hemmed in by a high stone wall so y mas no common man could have scaled it. . Beyond this wall was a wood which barred the view. The grounds wers well-kept, and far more suited to a walthy gentleman s country house finntoa p'rison. “0h,th cannotben jail,und yet, why are to windows barred? and wherefore the open- loft in the door! involuntarily turned to look again at indoor, whenshe perceived theoocupantof hoothsrbodsittingupandlookingat war. He had a t face, which would have hos-beau had itnot haenmarred hyacnro- wornund Ind exprs-ion. “Chad-morning dear! I’msoglad you have osmol"shosnid with s. courteous nod, perceiv- ing that the 1’s eyes were fixed upon her. Thovoloowas ow, sofaandsingulnrly sweet. “Good-morning!” clan replied mechan- iosll , for she wus’so amused at this familiar that she hardly knew what to say. “I waited up for you everso , lsstnight, hsmussthe said you werssnpsc ev mo- msnt,und didnotundressstsll”snd w- ingssidsthoclothes,sheshowedshewusin mu house “but madam ed mete lisdownandrsstsllttls when tgot lsts,and I presume I was sotired I fell asleep ulmost'im- msdintsl , for I do not remember anything at ullafter yingdown. Isu posswhsnyoucams inyoumundmsaslecpan puttheolothes over motor four I should take cold. That was real kindofyou andlknowIshnlllovo O'Cl somuch, ouwilllovsmoalittle . won’tl desrffor ’mrenlgood-nntured,if Ido sgl twhoouhtnotto. Iknowlamsllt! posvlth at- t mm, but you won’t mind that, will ~ you! bscauss I am a Igreat deal older than you aromawshssitsp ‘vileges, ou know.” “hid ,mndam,ldidnot w ouwere inthoroom untilIswoke,"Helsnro . “ ‘ ‘d didn’t the profs-or say anything to yousbout me!” “I madam.” 0. “ Ior Hsdnm mam” “Idongtknowol ofthopersonstowhom you refer. “ Why, that is certainly very strange. I do not midorttund it,” the other remarked, evident- ly psrplexed. ‘ I beg your pardon, madam, but did you ex— to see met” Helen asked, roelvlng that , was some mistake about he matter, and hoping by msansof thistotlnd outwhere she was and why she had been brought thither. “ Of course I did.” “ But I am a stranger to you.” » “Oh, yes; why, don’t even know your name. “ How is it, then, that you were expecting to _ see me!” . “ Why, both the professor and Madam Mary i fill me shout you. I have been lonesome for quite a time, and have begged that a congenial ‘ companion might be procured for me, and the rofessor promised to comply with my wishes. e did not set any particular time for your ar— rival, but in slime way I got the idea into my head that you were Coming last night. i sup- pose the professor’s manner toward me gavi- rise to the suspicion. I questioned Madam Mary about it, and she admitted that the young lady who had been s:lecled for my conifauion would probably til-rive last n'ght, and as i in- formed you, my dear. I sat up until quite late, waiting for you to come. Madam Mary spoke in the highest terms of you, and said that she was sure i would be highly delighted with you after 1 became acquainted.” Helen pressed her hands to her forehead for a moment, and stared at the other in such a man- ner that the lady looked amazed. Was it possible the girl asked herself, that she had been kilkiapped, and brought to this place Simply to serve as a companion! Surely a young lady as a companion was never before secured in SJ 'h a manner! “ Why do you look at me so strangely, my dear?" the other asked. “ Are Eyou ill?’ “ 0h, madam, do you knovv t 9 way in which [have been treated?" exclaimed Helen, becom- ing so excited and unnerved when she thought of her night’s adventure that she could hardly refrain from bursting into tears. “ Dear mel no, of course not. I hope that the Were not rude to y u. I am sure I don’t uni erstund how any one could have the heart to be rude to you, for you look so gentle and so lovable. Won’tyou come and kiss me, dear?” and with a beseeching look she extended her thin white hands imploringly toward the girl. Helen fclt herself irr stibly drawn to the speaker; something in her face and voice ap« pealed strange] wthesym athiesof theforlorn and hunted gir although s e was not one to be- come intimate onslight a - uaintance. But she could not resist t 0 impulse to comply with the lady‘s requvast. “Knnel down. my child and let me take a good look at you," the other said, as the girl came near. ' Hal :1 knelt dawn by the side of the bed: the lndv passed her this arms around her neck, took a 14 mg, wistful a at her face, and then, pressing her to h«r usom, imprinted a long, affectionate kiss upon he ripe, red lips. And as mien was bold in the ferventembrace she became consolous of a powerful, sickening sort of perfume wit] which the person of the lad scented to be impregnated; the strangest, 0d est scent that she had «var encountered, evr- dontly not from a toilet article, but the odor fmm some powerful medicine with which the system of the lady had bean saturated. “I know I shall love vuu door,” said the lsdy,releasi Hell in from or arms and mak- inghorsitby ersidoonthe ofthehed. But, madam, i do not tend this at all.” the girl remarked, anxious for an expla- nation. ‘ I hadno idea stallof coming here until I was here. I do not even know where I am. I was assaulted last night while walkin slongacountryrond. Amen came up behind and spoke to mo—osllcd me by some name. I ttz‘rneiitotellthim he hadhmnde a mistake— t wasno thsperson e imagin meto be, when a blanket was thrown over my head ' I was forced into a carriage' then some powerful drug applied to m nostrils until I was thrown into a stupor, and knew nothing more until I awoke and found myself here. Oh ,. what is this place—what is the mean of the barred window—of this strut. 0 room, so bars of furniture and that odd he s in the door, so any one withoutcan look into the room at all times? Is its risoni” “My dear c ild, you are feve ,” lied the lady, soothingly, smoothing Helen’s my hair ssshe spoke. ‘All this thstlyou speak of is nothin but a horrid dream. sdam Mary told me t you had been very illof a fever and that was why you had not become bef .. so they took you before you were fairly w ,sndthstis why allthis delusion seems so real to you.” Helen at the s or with amused eyes. Could it possiblet t it was the truth, and that all the horrid ha penings which had racked her soul had no foun tionf Oh, no, it was im- possiblel “And the idea of thinking you were in a prison," and the lady shock or head while a mournful smile spread over her features. “ But what kind of a place is this madam!" “ It I. u sanatorium. conducted by Professor Muller—one of the most celebrated physicians' in the country. I have been under his care for a great number of years, and if I had not been here I should have been dead long 0. This room is for the reception of patients boring under slight visionary attacks, and whom it is necessa to keep a watch upon until the worst stages 0 the delirium are over. That is the reason why the windows are gilinrded by the iron bars. and also why there s. window in the door. It ha us to be the onl room vaos’pt now, and t is why it was good to you “ It is not your room, then!” Helen asked, her mind in a maze, not knowing wrist to lake of this explanation. “Oh, no; mine is on the next floor—much larger than this, and Very nicely furnished.” “ But this dress that 1 mm: nn-- this costly jewelry, What does it ill-.au—-they are not mine.” “ Not yours? But they must be, or else you would not wear them." “ But they were put on me when I was in my stupor; I kno v nothing at all about them.” “This is Certainly Very strange,” and then she took a lon look at lielen, shook her head, and said: “ y dear,I am afraid the fever still confuses your mind.” Helen knew it was useless to argue with her companion, although convinced that her strange experience “as reality and no dream. “ Now, perhaps you would like to know some— thing about me, my dear,” the lady continued, “and as you are to be my companion hence- forth the desire is only natural." “ If you please, madam.” “ My story is uite u long one, romantic and yet very sad. gossibly by looking at my face you can perceive marks there which seem to indicate that my life has not been a happy one.” Helen nodded assent. The signs of carking care were indeed very perceptible in the wan, yet still beautiful face. “lam French by birth,and my name—well, never mind the name; everybody here knows me as Mrs. Blank. it is so lung since I have been called by my own rightful name that I am not sure I should renegimzu it if it was spoken in my presence. I was an o nan-— there were two of us, myself and an 01 or bro- ther—as noble a man as eier God created. He was some fifteen years older than myself. and. ever since the time of the death or' our parents protected and supported me. He was absent on usiness the greater part of the tune, and I, lacking a mother’s lender care, grew up 11):. an idle weed. In time the tempter came. his was of noble birth, bad royal blood in hisveinl—o Come closer to me, child, while I whisper my secret to on,” and she drew the wondering girl closerto (r bosom. “The man who swore he loved me, uni whom I was feel one ii to love was Philip, Duke of Orleans—the el est son of the Bourbon line, and the rightful of France. When he told mewho he was, was a pulled at the discovery, and tried to make leave me, but be swore that he lovedmo better than all the world besides; what were all the titles in the wurld to him without me! I wasa young and foolish girl, hare] flit“; I believed every word he said; I yi ed to his entreatles, tied with him to London—without a word to my noble brother—and there I married my prince. Of course we could not havobcen married in France. Then came a year of wed- ded bliss—a fool's adise, th h,’ from which at last I was ly driven. he pnnoo, my husband, deserted me and his intent daughter and fled with a newer beauty who had ht hisflckle fancy, to America. '1, with In “all... followed and traced him out. The er wo~ man he had also deserted after landing on these :3“; more” reams; , man w w me sofoully. At iirsthstrembled.andesss , by mourn of fair words and smooth to get me to return either to England or promising that he would provide sum money for the support of in self and child. In uniting himself to me he been mud. and the mar 000111)?“ nevsr be publicly ackme , wwith scorn. Thus tone than ed. and threatende Our 5% s 5 unlonwasno al one,hssaid,snd,inro- allty,Ibndnoc uponbim.80mednz; whenthewheeloffortune turned, howonld :3“ looked around her tsriousl! M If my! I lowered her voice to a whisper. “ 1’07.nt friends came to myahi. sts placed herein this scours uncut, where it is Impo-ibl. for m husband‘s emissariss to reach me. I am his w e and will be Queen of France once! those days when the Bourbon! come to their own again. Of course, if my enemies could kill me, they would ladlng so, for there are twenty princesses o the 100d who would be proud to wed my lord; but here I am safe.” “ And your child madam?” asked Helen, who had listened to the stor with great atten- tion. “ is she here with you “Oh, no. my dear,” the other re lied, with a cunning look. “That would not oat all: she must receive an education befitting a of France. She is not here, and where she is I keep a profound secret from every one, for no one suspects the is alive. That is to insure her safety. My enemies are bitter enough to strike even at her youn life.” At this point the conversation footstopo were heard in the entry, and Mrs- Blsnk, whose hearing seemed to be wonderful}; acute, rm to her feet and remarked: “ It is the professvr and Madam Mary : break- fast is ready, I prssums.” . .-___ .. _,ng, .. .a The Hawks and Wolves of New York. 25 CHAPTER XXXV. THE LOST HEIR. IN the Plantagenet mansion. in earnest con- versation, sat the two cousins, Richard and Viola, and as the words which passed between them have an important bearing on our story we will transcribe them in full. “ I have made a most important discovery, Viola,” he said, at the beginning, “and one I think that will turn to cur advantage.” “ 1 am glad to hear it. ls it about the will? for Denby l..ughs at that clumsy trick. as he calls it, and he says outright it is a f'rgcry from beginning to end, and he can easily prove it so if the matter gets into the courts.” “ That is Something which will admit of con- siderarle discussion,’ Richard observed. “He must bea wise man indeed nowadays who can tell in advance how a lawsuit will turn out. But, there isn’t much doubt, backed by his money, that Livingstone w ould succeed in mak- inga very long and expensive fight even if he was beaten in the end, while it would undoubt— edly be a diflicult matter for us to raise money enough to carry on the contest as it ought to be prosecuted.” “ Why not take his offer, then?” Viola in- quired, after a moment’s thought. “ I’m sure a hundred thousand dollars is a very handsome sum. - “ But n4 it to be com ared to a million.” “Very true; but t e one you can have for the asking, while it is very uncertain indeed about the other." " What would you say, Viola, if I told on there was a chance to take all the estate—a1 of the four or five millions, leaving Denby abso- lutely penniless?" “ l suould say you Were joking because it isn’t possible.” “ But it is." d “How can it be?” Viola exclaimed, in won- er. " I Will admit that there is considerable doubt about this paper purporting to be Mrs. Plan— tagenet‘s will—there are suspicious circum- stances connected with it which indisputably lead to the belief that it is not a genuine paper, but there is another will in existence.” “ Mrs. Plantagenet’s?” “No; a will made b Gloster Plantagenet floats ago; and that wil of course disposes. of re. Plantagenet‘s claim. She inherited from him in the aoseuce of a will and blood heirs, but as there was a will, she had no business with the property any more than either you or I, and of course could not will away what did not belon to her. Neither could Denby inherit from er. This will, which is properly made and executed, and the witnesses to which are still livmg, bequeaths all of Gloster Plantage- me‘t’s‘yropeirtv ti -h 1': elder daughter.” ‘ by, never new he had one ex ' the infant child that died!” ’ “pang “This will was made long before that child was born—long before he married Mrs. Living. «.stme; so, clearly, it has no reference to that daughter at all. It is plain to me that this old will, made yours ago, had entirely from the memory of our uncle. and when he died I do not believe he was conscious that he had left any such paper behind. it was, probably, mowed away with his old rubbish. After his death it was found by Mrs. Plantagenet, and when she disco» ered what it was, she yielded to the tem itation to suppress ih l document which :robbed th herself and heirs of the vast for- tune that Glaster Plantagenet had left. She knew of no daughter—and never heard of such a thing, and it was only natural for her to k the secret to herself; at the same time she had a suspicion that the daughter lived and fancied she was not far off.” “ Richard, you amuse me.” “Why was she so anxiousto make a match between you and Denby? You did not care cularly for him, and he fairly hated the ' den of making you his wife but she was deter- mined that the union should take place even 0 .0 m- as tothreaten to disinherit him if on to wed you, and had spoken to her lawyers in ard to making a will wherein she left the bulk of her tortunewvw- Why did she netthus strangely l” “1 mil cannot tell, but I alwnfl W“ a pid has and never good at gumnz-" ‘ It was a guilty conscience!” Richard do- clarod. “She believed that you were Glmter Plantagenet's daughter. That would ex lain the fondness which your uncle alwa s disp god for you. She had so pressed the vi [which' ad ven all the prope .y to you, and was aunous atone for it by giving the estate to you at her death. If a marriage between ourself and Donb could be arranged, all we] and good but f he was obstinate she was determined should have the greater part of your fa- m‘g wealth.” “ But I don’t understand! How can it be sible that I am Gloster Plantaglenet’s child l" u Yuur supde father was is older brother, as mine was his younger.” "Yes." u am; you never knew either your father or _ mother or any relatives of your mother. on I” ich an Orphan at a tender age, and Glostsr always took care of you. Both your parents died abroad, so it was said, but no one knew much about it. Now the truth I believe to be that your sup father was never married. At any rate, never heard my father speak of his wife; he never saw or knew of her, and all that he ever heard of his brother’s death was when Gloster returned from some foreign coun- try bringing you with him, then about three years old, and told the story of the death of your parents. Bojy though I Was at the time, I remember distinct y that my father did not be- lieve in the story that you were brother Jack’s child, and said then that it was far more likely you were Gloster’s chick. And then when my uncle departed to America right after that, recollect my father said it was en account of some girl ix hom he had married and deserted, and that he fled to avoid the Vengeance of some relative. Now the Whole matter is clear to me: the woman he married and afterward deserted —for Gloster Plantagenet was at heart a Scamp, despite all his great success in money-getting— was your mother. For some reason he stole you away from her, and then, when hotly pur- sued, fled to America, leaving you behind in England masquerading as his niece. His wife pursued him here, and be compromised with her in some way, promising to make the child his heir, and then the will was drawn out. He was a man of considerable property even then. I gathered these facts from some old letters near- ly destroyed by the ravages of time, w ich I found among the rubbish of one of his old desks stored in the lumber room up stairs.” ‘ “ You have fairly taken my breath away. It does not seem possible, and yet the story you "have put together seems a very probable one. The girl spoke rather doubtfully. She knew Richard to e a cunning fellow, and had a sus- picion that he would not be inclined to be scrupulous when there was such a prize as four or five millions of dollars to be had it the cards in the game were right] played. ; manner. “ First, rest assured t ere isn’t the least doubt 5 that the Will is genuine. It came into my hands in a peculiar way. Of course I have a sus picion of how it was obtainedubut I wanted the document too much to push inquiries into the i misguided girl, doubtless. wh matter. said the countr him. For five me on the track of this will. I closed the bar- aln. The dooument was in this same old desk n the lumber room up stairs; there I found it, and of course I am not obliged to tell that any one suggested the search. That is the first point. The will is enuine. And can I prove that you are Gloster lantagenet's eldest daugh- ter? That’s the second point. If I can, no power on e rth can keep gou out of the prop erty. The proofs are in ngland, and in my mind there is not the sli htest doubt that I can make out a case, and i a link or two in the chain is missing a shrewd lawyer will easily supgl‘y others that will do." ‘ ou’re a darlin fellow, and if you give me all this money I abs 1 love you ever so much 1“ And so they plotted and planned to fight the battle for Giotter Plantagenet's gold. CHAPTER XXXVI. an ASTOUNDING srnsusx’r. Tull lady’s guess was correct; it was the pro- fessor and his principal female assistant, known as Madam Mary. The professor was a portly man of forty-five or thereabouts, with a smoothl -shaven face, quite fat and ornamented with a cubic chin. A sort of oily expression to his countenance, a po- culiar way of sucking in his lips and rolling up his little cunning eyes strongly suggested the Aminadab Sleek order of men—fellows loud in good words, porofuse in their protestations, but not at all to de nded upon, but yet the very sort of persons w o, in nine cases out of ten, will succeed in posing succeufully before the world as the benefactors of their kind. Asiother Canary, in fact, only of a higher gra 0. Helen, grown wise by experience, distrusted the man the moment she loo ed at him. The woman was a tall, stout specimen of hu- manity, with a stolid face and an iron-like law— a woman who could be depended u n to exo- cute all orders ven her by those w opaid for he}: services, Without remorse or scruple. The morning repast is ready, Mrs. Blank,” the man said, with a bow to her, and a similar sanitation to the girl, “ and if you will have the kindness to walk down to the refoctory while 1 exchange a few Words with our dear young friend here. you will oblige me.” Helen recognized the voice at once. This was the man who had kc n to her on the country road ust before the time i f the assault and in- quire if she was .‘liss—sonwbrdy; the name had secs (1 from the girl‘s memory. Mrs. iank bowad grecionsl- , smiled at the Sgktand With the woman quitted the apart- The rofessor, who, despite his size and Weight. had a stealthy, soft, cat-like tread, fol- lowed them to the door. saw that it was so- curely closed after them, listened until he A certain party came to see me and was getting too hot to hold 1 heard the door at the entry shut after them, then, rubbing his hands softly together, he re- turned to Where Helen stood, gazing at him in amazement. "Sit down my dear,” he said, his tones as soft and bland as the purring of a pleased cat. He waved his hand toward the bed as he spoke. “ You must excuse the furniture of this apart— ment,” he continued; “it is not as sumptuous as your own, I kn0w, but after your little es- capade of yesterday I thought better to put you in here for the present.” Helen was astounded. The man spoke in such a familiar tone, just as if he knew all about her. Was it possible he was a confederate of the senator, and that in fleeing from Bumble- big’s hou~e she had jumped from the frying-pan into the fire? She knew not what to say, and so mechanical- ly sunk upon the edge of the bed. The professor seated himself upon the other bed, facing the girl, and surveyed her for a few moments in silence, as though thinking of what to say. “ My dear child,” he began, atlast, “I do not suppose in your unhappy mental condition that it is possible to make you comprehend how much trouble and anxiety you have given me during the last twenty-four hours. I assure you I have not had a moment’s peace from the time I discovered that you were missing until I encountered you in such a totally unexpected I will own to you, my child, that you were cunning enough to almost deceive me, and I am a man who has had a t deal of experi- ence in this life, and I thin I have profited by it. When I discovered your clothes on the bank of the river, I felt sure that, in your mad- ness, you had flung yourself into the stream, and so put an end to your existence, but in the soft sand leading to the r0ck whereon the clothes were laced, I found that your foot- steps not only ed to the rock but away from it again—a sure proof that on had not thrown yourself into the water: hen the idea flashed upon me that, after escapin from this man— sion, and when you had ma e your wa to the river, resolved to put an end to your ifs, you there chanced upon the clothgs of some poor, had chosen to find an end to her woes in the dark current of the noble Hudson. An idea seized upon you—a undred dollars he would put 1 fantas due to your disordered brain-inst you could isguise yourself in these casth clothes, leave your own garments upon the bank of the river, and’so deceive everybody into the belief that on had committed suicide, while you wan- der away, fearless of pursuit. Luckily,thanks to the foo rints in the sand, lguessed your plan, and so to lowed you up closely, and at last suc- ceeded in overtakin you.” . Helen listened W th 9. face expresswe of the greatest amazement, but she began to compre- hdnd now- there was a mistake' the man knew notbin about her at all, but by] Iain circumstance had taken er for some- y else; and now that ‘0 understood this. an intense feeling of relief came over her. danger was past._ All she had to do was to make the entieman understand the mistake un- der which e labored, and she would be free to depart. She did not imagine that this would be a difficult matter, although he so positive in his ition. “ I beg your par on, sir, but I think you are laboring under a mistake,” she said, in reply. “ A mistake—in regard to whatl’ “ I do not think you know me; you have inh- taken me' for some one else.” “ My child, that isn't blei" “Iamsureldonot wyou,andIhavo never been in this house before.” “Now you see, my,dear, that is one of the strange hallucinations which, at times, takes poms-don of you, and which renders my talk of taking care of you anytheizg but sgreeab ” ‘ shaking h he re ed his vel . “ coursephno bus to look t on wgilild bills" it was not the truth, . t is the reasonwhy yourmalad .issohardtooopo with trying my utmost ' 1.” Be on was visibly annoyed ' the persim of the man was voking. Her words did not seomto maket eleastim rsssionuponhim. “But you are wron , lawn youl”sho declared. “ It is no h ucination : you speakof me as one whom you have known. while I sure I never saw you before in my life i” “ Shall I introduce myself, then, and humor you in your whim?” the other asked, apparently not in the least disturbed. ' " If you please, for the quicker we under- stand each other the quicker I shall be free to depart." “ Ah, you ought not to be anxious to run away. for I am sure you have been well treated ever since you have beenunder my care, but since it is your I him to a?” ignorant. know, then. that 1 am Professor ullsr, and this is my house, the lngleside Sanitarium, devoted an tire] to the care and cure of mental disease-in the emale sex—an establishment patri niaod b the best aple in the country, for it is cond ed on strictl scientific plans, and although we do not ma e many cures, I admit—because nearly all our patients are incurable, and all the some unex- ‘ 26 The Hawks and “waves of New York. doctors and drugs in this world cannot ‘ medi- I gather from the conversation between the two cine to a mind diseased ’-—yet the care and at- tention which the inmates receive cannot be surpassed at any madvhouse in the country.” “ A mad-house!” cried Helen, in horror. “ Yes, my dear—a private lunatic asylum, in fact, but sanitarium sounds much better, and all our patients are members of prominent and wealthy families, for the charges here are high, and none but wealthy ple could afford to pay them. Take your ather, the judge, for instance; if he were not a millionaire, he couldn’t afford to pay fifty dollars a week for your board." “My father, the judge?” gasped the girl, amazed. “ Yes, of course.” “ Why, who do you think I am!” “ Miss Pauline Cadwalader, of course, only daughter of Judge Cadwalader of Ohio, now , minister to Russia.” “Oh, but you are crazy, sir, as well as your ‘ patients, to assert such a thing! I am not Miss Cadwalader, and never even knew that there 1 - was anylsuch person in existence. My name is Helen ome, and I am a r girl. withouta relative, and hardly a frien in the world l” The mad-doctor shook his head and assumed a mournful air. ‘ “ You see, my dear, that is Where your insan- * ity comes in. You are in full possession of our senses except in regard to this one thing. _ irst you imagine you are the Queen of Eng- ' land; then the next week, you are an African princess; from that you turn into the greatest ‘ prima donna the world has ever known; but this freak of assuming to be a poor girl is really something out of the common, for itherto you havgimagined yourself to be some great person- a e. gFor a moment Helen looked at the professor like one dazad ; his confident tone stunned her. “ Can you not see that I am not the girl you take me to be?” she cried, at last, in a sudden outburst of passion. “Or, is it possible that on do not want to see? i tell ou that I am elen Home, and I demand that be permitted to depart instantly.” “And that poor old lady who has just left, Mrs. Blank, declares she is married to one of the Bourbon princes, and would be mortally offended if we failed to treat her in a manner becomin the future Queen of France, except at odd mes when she imagines she is the Em- press of Russia and is afraid of being assas- sinated.” “ And is she madf" cried Helen, horror- siricken, for she had never dreamed of such a t ing. “ As crazy as it is sible for a woman to be. She is the wife of a eceased merchant, and she has been under my care for fifteen or sixteen ears no'v.” . “Oh, butI am not mad; I am Helen Home, and you must not detain me!” the girl cried, wrou ht up almo to frenzy at the terrible situat on in which s found herself. “Now you are becoming violent, and if you keep on must use harsh measures. It is the hand of iron in the velvet glove here. As long as you behave yOurself and conform to my rules, you will be treated in the kindest possible manner; have plenty of good clothes to wear, plenty of the very best to eat and drink, plenty of books and amusements to kill time, and you I can sew and busy yourself with an kind of fancy-work. take exercise in t gar en, and if on are very contented and disposed to remain ere and nel me a little in taking care of the rest, on sha receive a liberal salary, such as the 1, Helen Home, whom you assume to be, we d no doubt be glad to get. If, on the con- trary, you are obstinate and u ly, there come the strait-jackets the dark un erground cells and the powerful dru which act upon both bod and mind, so tha the sunset person under the influence will appear to be nothing more than a gibbering idiot.’ “ Oh, heavensl into what a den have I fallen l" exclaimed Helen, in terror, recoiling from the man who was now throwing off the mask and appearing in his own true character. ‘ “ No den at all, if you are sensible enon h to know what is good for you,” he replied. “ ow we will suppose a case. week to me the cash ready the moment the bill is Rresented; the judge, her father, and the only re tive who comes anywheres near her, is in Russia, and, probabl , will not return under three or four years; t a girl, through some stu- piditg, mans to escape. I follow in chase, and nd her c has a few miles off on the bank of a river, and as her mania is of a suicidal na- tore, the chances are great that she has im- proved the opgortunit to take her own life, and I am out fty do! are a week. for the risk would, be too great to present the hills without having- some one in the establishment to per- senate the girl. Then, returning home in the darkness, [ overhear a conversation between an old woman and a young one. The voice of the young one attracts my. attention, for it is exact- like the voice of the missing girl. Icatch ht of her face, and I find that in feature, too, she ‘ .. almost an exact countsrpa rt of my patient. Miss Cadwalader is here , in my charge and she is worth fifty dollars a I‘ women that the girl has a record which won’t _ bear inspection, and even n0w she is flying from i ursuit, and is without friends. Then the bril- | iant‘ idea occurs to me to seize and carry her - of! on purpose to have her personate the dead girl so can secure in handsome little sum per year, thinking, too, n her peculiar situation, that, when she comes to understand the circum- stances, she will be extremely glad to stay in my domain and to evade the pursuit so hot up- on her heels.” “ I Would not consent to be a party to such an ‘ infamous scheme for anything in this world l" , the girl protested, hot with scorn and burning with rage at the insult of such an offer. “ If you get violent, Miss Cadwalader, I really shall have to use unpleasant measures,” the pro- fessor remarked. “ And if you persist in this delusion that you are somebody else, I shall i have to try some powerful drugs upon you. If you think it over perhaps you will calm down. I’ll come again in an hour or two.” And with this assurance the proprietor of this remarkable establishment departed. i l CHAPTER XXXVII. l A CLEW AT LAST. AFTER ascertaining all the particulars in re- ing the ofii :er and patrolman for their kindness, Denby and the lawyer proceeded down-town V again. i “There does not seem to be the least clew,” the anxious lover remarked, discouraged at the ill-success of his search. “ It does not appear to me. probable, though, that the girl has destroyed herself,” the lawyer declared. “ Oh, no; I do not entertain that thought; she was of a bright, joyous nature, and I am sure it would take a crushin weight of sorrow to bring her to the point 0 wantonly taking her own life.” “ Wouldn’t it be a good idea to employs sharp detective to look into the matter?” “Perhaps it would; there is this Muttlebud, but I haven’t a very good opinion of him.” “ Oh, I don’t take any stock in Muttlebud at all. As far as I can see he has blundered from beginning to end in this matter. Brag and bluster are his best "nolts.’ I haven’t the least doubt that he is responsible for the girl quitting her home down in the country. He went down there and bragged of what he was going to do, and instead of securing the girl, as was his in- tention, he so frightened her that she thou ht some awful danger menaced her and so cut or ‘ luck at once." “ king of Muttlebud reminds me of the Eng] shman, Garrowcroft. his employer, who, ‘ for some pur of his own, is so anxious to i find Helen. ouldn‘t it be a good idea to make i known to him what we have discovered in regard to these clothes, and the supposition abroad that . she has committed suicide?” ' “An excellent idea! He’s a shrewd man of the world and in a multitude of counselors there issafety.” ' “ We will go to him immediately.” I As it happened the Englishman was at home when the two arrived, and so they were enabled | to lay the matter before him. . 1 He too scouted the idea of suicide. “The poor child has been foui‘xy dealt with, you may rest assured of that l” he instantly ex- claimed. “ln escaping from the house of that miserable old wretch, Bumblebig, she fell into the clutches of some other scoundrel or scoun- drels, and for some reason—which I confess I can’t fathom—it was desired that it should be believed the girl had committed suicide. There is some deep plot in this matter, gentlemen, you can be certain of that and the quicker it is in- vesti ated the better.’ “ hat is the conclusion of both Mr. Purchase and myself. and we thought of putting detectives on the track at once.” . Garrowcroft shook his head. “ Really, entlemen, you must excuse me if I say to on t at I have little confidence in detec- tives. am satisfied that this Muttlebud, whom I employed. has blundered—if not from the very ginning— at critical moments, and by so doing has upset everything. Muttonhead would be the appropriate name for him, in my opinion. Suppose, gentlemen, instead of em loyin de- tectives, that we try our hands at a lttle (Estee- tive work. Let us go up to the spot where the clothes were discovered: examine the locality and question anybody whom we may chance to find in the neighborhood. If I understand you rightlly’you didn’t investigate the matter very c ose . Both admitted that they had not. “It is clear to me the clothes were put near the river to give the impression that the girl had jumped into the water; I am satisfied she did not at them there herself, and so somebody else mu have done so. and as it is plain the gar- ments could only he obtained from the girl, the inference is that, if we find the part who left . the clothes we shall obtain a direct c ow to the I‘ lost Helen.” l Both Denby and his lawyer assented to this view of the case, and the result was that an gard to the finding of the garments, and thank- 1’ hour later found the three on the spot where the ' clothes had been found. But, after a careful examination of the lo- cality all were obliged to confess themselves baffled. “The next thing is to question the inhabit- ants,” Garrowcroft remarked. There was a small shanty about an eighth of a mile down the river which the three had no- ticed as they came up, and at this humble abode l the Eu lisliman suggested the investigation had ' better egin. I As they approached the house they noticed a , sharp-looking youngster about ten or twelve ; years old fishing from a rock a little ways from 1 the shanty. ! “I’ll commence operations with him,” Gar- i rowcroft mid, as they approached. ! The Englishman got at the subject in a mas— terly manner. He had resolved to interrogate , the boy upon two subjects: first, had he noticed- ! any strangers, male or female. in the neighbor- j hood lately; Second, were there any folks of bad i re utation in the vicinity? lie openin move was to exhibit to the won- dering eyes 0 the boy a bright new dollar, and assure him that the coin should be his if h. l 1would answer truthfully the questions put to 1m. The lad agreed readily enough, for silver do]- 3 Lag:d were uncommon scarce in that neighbor— I in answer to the first question the boy said he I had not seen any strangers about for two or three days, and as he explained that he spent ahout all his time from six in the morning to nine or ten in the evening Outdoors, it was more than probable he would have noticed any stran- gers if there had been any around. To the sec— ond, the people in the neighborhood were all pretty good as far as he knew. And then a sud- den thought occurred to the lad: “ P”r’aps y0u mean the mad-house up on the hill?’ No, Garrowcroft said that he didn’t take any interest in mad-houses. “ ’Tain’t a very big one—a private one where. the people hav’ to pay big to it in—a sanny- something, the professor calls it,” the boy ex- lained. “He’s a mean old cuss, that Muller! came near pegging a stone at him yesterday night when I see’d him going up the track with a bundle.” The three men were fairly trembling with ex- citement at this unex disclosure, and it was a moment before arrowcroft could go on with his uestionin . uller hufa bundle and went up the “He did, the mean old ri : hosswhip (1 me onc’t 'cos I was in his orchar ,and he sai l was a-hooking his apples." “ Where do you squpose he was going?" “ I dunno; but it had ’a’ thought he was a- coming back so soon, I would have hid in the bushes somewhere and fired a rock at him, any- ow.” . “ Did he have the bundle when he came back?” The boy scratched his head a moment. 2“ I guess he didn’t; I don’t remember seeing of “ It doesn’t matter, anyway; here’s your dol- lar, sonny for your trouble.” Awa the three went. There wasn’t much doubt n their minds, now, as to where the girl ra ewasinexplica lo. I ow Purchase’s legal knowledge came in. P ayl “ We want to go to the nearest magistrate- and swear out a warrant; then, with an officer, proceed to search the house.” Not a minute was wasted. The magistrate was found, the warrant issued, an oflicer r0- cured, and then Professor Muller’s Sanitar um was attacked. Never was there a more astonished man than the proprietor of the private mad-home”When his premises were invaded by this “ army. First he attempted to blaster, but when he found that the visitors were armed with the necessary legal authority, and were determined to execute their prime. he began to crin e. He had been aways fires? deal. htely; one of is tients had escaped n his absence, and his men ad recaptured her, so_they said, but he had not seen the patient since his return, and there might have been some mistake made. And in this way he tried to avert his Own implication in the out. e. “fie conducted the visitors to the cell~like apart- ment where Mrs. Blank and the lost Helen were confined. With a scream of joy Helen rushed toward Denby the moment she saw him in the door-- way. And her exclamation was echoed by the poor insane patient, Mrs. Blank, when she ooked upon Garrowcroft. “ Mathew, Mathew!” she cried. “ Oh, heavens, it is my sister!” the Englishman ‘ exclaimed, rushing to her. I With a wild scream she threwn her arms f and fainted dead sway Garrowcro t cath ' he; as the fell, and placing her sponono ’ ‘ e s. was confined, though the object 'of such an out- - The Hawks and Wolves of New York. 7 “ You have done it now,” the professor re- marked, cynicall . “ You have either killed or cured her. or madness came from a se- vere ief-shock, and now if she don’t die from the c ects of too much ha piness, it is more than,probable she will actua ly recover her rea- 1 “ And I have mourned her for dead all these years,” the Englishman moaned. “ Poor lady! and I love her so much, although we have only just become acquainted and she says that I am nearer and dearer to her than any one she has ever known,” Helen remarked, her face full of sympathy. “ And no wonder, in dear child, for this we- man is your own mot er, as I am your own uncle l” “ My mother 1” and throwing herself upon her knees beside the bed, she rested her head upon the bosom of the senseless woman and burst into a flood of tears. “ Yes your mother, who was stolen from me by a villain when she was but a mere child; he married her; then, after you were born, de sorted her and fled to this country. She, with her child, followed him, and all traces of her disappeared. I was away in India, battling bar for a fortune, and new nothing but the bare facts of the case. Not until I returned to En land with a fortune, onl a year ago, did learn all the rticulars. 'Then I came to America, but all could learn was that my sis- ter had died shortly after coming to this coun- try, and that her child had been intrusted to a man living somewhere near Long Branch whose exact name I could not discover. I came for vengeance; too late, though—the vil- lain who did all this mischief was dead. But a bitter reckoning hereafter awaits Gloster Plan- tagenetl” A cry of astonishment came from Denby’s ps. . “ Gloster Plantagenet was my -fatherl” “The scoundrell and he coul n’t legally marry anybody as long as this :- woman lived, for she was his lawful wife. understand it all now; when my poor sister came here and hunted down the man who had so cruel] de- serted her he, probably, threw off the m and declared she had no claim on him, and that she could and starve for all he cared. So the terrible shock produced insanit .” “Exactl ," the profeuor astened to ex- claim. “ hat is the wa she tells it, with the slight exception that, in or madness, it is the ‘French prince, the Duke of Orleans, whom she had married. I can he of assistance to you gentlemen, if you care to accept my aid. If on will agree to overlook this little mistake hat has been made, I will furnish you with the name of the lawyer who arranged for this lady’s keeping here. Of course I never knew who she was, or anything about her. In an in- stitution of this kind, troublesome questions are never asked of patrons. I knew that there had been a sum of money set apart, the interest of which was sufiicient to support her, so that she was provided for as long as she lived. I gather from what you have said, that there ma be some property involved in this matter, an my evidence, an the proof of which I can put you on the track, will help to make the legal chain complete)” a A ter a consultation, it was agreed to accept the offer, although. as Gsrrowcrcft remarked, “ the rascal ought to be punished !” “ I am punished where I feel it most, gentle- men—in my pocket.” Muller replied. “ By this little incident I lose two good payin boarders —seventy-flve dollars a week out, an if I don’t get some others in their places right soon I shall have to shut u shop.” Meanwhile t e unfortunate victim of man’s cruelty was slowly reviving. and as her strength came back so that she could‘situ , all noticed the the peculiar wild expression w ich her face had worn was no longer there. -“ She’s all right. gentlemen; it is a marvelous recovery n Muller remarked. “ All the medi- cine in the world applied for a hundred years‘ n’t have done it. I’m no slouch of an ex- pert, gentlemen, and I know what I’m talking aboutbif I do run a rather peculiar establish- ment. And it was the truth, the shock and rescue restored the unhappy woman to all her senses. At one turn of fortune’s wheel, Helen recov. ered her freedom the man she adored. and the loving mother w om she had so long mourned as dead. CHAPTER XXXVIII. A aoonn’s Discoxriruas. 0 Tm: rest of our tale is now soon told. The unexpected appearance of the first wife and eldest daughter of Gloster Plantagenet would have upset all of the crafty Richard’s plans, even if a bomb-shell had not exploded under him, hurled from an entirely diflerent direction. ‘ He had made all preparatioan reduce the true will which, in some momentw on Justice got the better of his craft, Gloster Plantagenet had executed. making tardy reparation to his abandoned daughter; but it was not the young \ r e’s game to make the will public until he ha gone to England and arranged matters there, so that he could, by means of false wit- nesses and false oaths, establish the fact that Viola, instead of be Gloster’s niece, was in truth his daughter. e felt sure that, by the liberal use of money, he could make out a case so strong that he could make Denby glad to compromise by giving up one-half of the prop- erty, even if he could not clutch the whole. But, just as he was getting everythin nicely in trim an event occurred that chang all his plans. As the reader will robably remember, the superintendent of po ice surmised that the coachman, who had been so prompt to accuse Livingstone of the murder of his mother, knew a great deal more about that tragedy than he was willin to acknowledge, and so the detec- tive, after fiis release from the House of Deten- tion, kept a constant watch upon him, day and night. So complete was this surveillance that the man never step foot out of his house without being dogg by a spy. Suspecting that he was shadowed—for the guilty mind doth fear each bush an officer-the man at last discovered the truth. Then he be- came alarmed and sought an interview with Richard, informed him that the police were on his track, and that he must have money by means of which to fly. The letter, although at first rather inclined to lung at these fears, finally came to the con- clusion that it would be a good idea to get rid of the weak-kueed scoundrel, for by this time he began to realize that the trap he had laid to catch Denby was not going to work. He had hoped that the circumstantial evidence was strong enou h to convict Livingstone of the murder of his mother—for it was he who had concocted the ch but new be was con- yinced nothing coul be expected from that ef- ort. So, on the whole, he thought it would be a good idea to et the coachman away, for he now distrus the coward, and had an idea that should he be arrested, the man would try to throw all the blame on his employer. ' Giving him a hundred dollars—at which the other grumbled, for he thought he ought to have five—he advised him to ‘get out’ with- out delay. The fellow declared that he would leave by the first train; but in regard to this he reckoned “ without his host,” for the detec- tives, keen on the watch, nabbed him at the de t. file an rintendent, resolving to play a bold game, has0 given orders to arrest the coachman f be attempted flight. His idea was to f hten a confession out of the man, if he really- ew an thing about the m der. his artifice succeed . The moment the fel- low found himself in t e hands of the officers, and it was intimated to him that he was sus- pected of being the murderer of Mrs. Plantage- net, he became terribly alarmed and agreed to tell all he knew about the affair. It wasn‘t much but it served to throw suspicion strongly upon ichard Plants not. Then the chief reso ved upon a master-stroke, and that was to arrest Richard on the charge of murder, hoping by the movement to frighten him into a confession. But the plotter was too much of a fox to be caught napping. The coachman, having told him by what train he intended going the young man had been on hand in the back- ground, disguised, to see him off. When the arrest was made, in the fright of the moment, the coachman had declared his own innocence, but aeknowled ed that he knew who did the deed. Richa waited to hear no more. He realized well enough that the time to act promptly had come, and if he was not anxious to see the inside of a cell, the quicker he got out of the way the better, for he was the guilty man, although he had not the slightest inten- tion of injuring Mrs. Plantagenet when he had made the midnight raid upon the safe. In anticipation of just such an event as this he had made all preparations for flight. He had fared well since coming to America, and flattered himself he had such a start that in some infant city of the far West he might build up a colossal fortune. ‘ After all, I was a fool not to take the hun- dred thousand.” he said, after he had got past St. Louis and felt free from danger. But in the wild West Richard Plan enet was not fated to p The weight 0 the crime which he had committed seemed to drag him down. All his speculations were unluck , and finally reduced to poverty, he caught t e fever so fatal to non-acclimated strangers in some parts of the mountain regions. and died a miserable death without even a friend] hand to close his e es; and thus it happened t the true will of loster Plantagenet had never come to li ht, for Richard had carried it away with him n his flight. ;I B] means of the information gained from the old sump. Muller. the lawyers were found through Whom old Plantagenet had arranged in regard to his wife and daughter. but with the cunning natural to the man, he had not let the firm know his real name. 27' It was very easy, though, to identify “Mr. Thomas Blank,” as he had called himself, and the great speculator. As the professor had predicted, the long-sf» flicted woman completely recovered her reason, and bid fair to engoy many happy days in the society of her new- ound daughter. The char e against Denby was of course ut- terly ex 1 ed by the confession of the coach- man, w o swore he had been bribed by the fu- gitive, Richard, to make the charge, and as a punishment for his perjury he was sent up the river to do the State some service. Justice, too, at last swooped down on Bumble— big. It was suddenly discovered that he had been dipping his arms in the public treasury up to the elbows, and when his “crookedness ’ came out, and he only escaped punishment by a hasty flight to parts unknown, leaving all his ill—gotten gains behind him, again the new - pers displayed the stirring head-line: “ Ano er eminent citizen gone wrong!" The Canary family, cunning and skillful as they were, “tried it on ” once too often, and were “ scoo in,” then sent to Sing Sing to meditate upon the folly of all evil ways. As for liola, the irl without a heart al— though well provide for by Denby, she liun- gered after more money, married an Italian count, who turned out to be a chorus-sin er in the opera. a mean rascal, who made sad avoc. with his wife’s money until Livingstone inter- fered, and procured a legal separation for the unfortunate girl; and now, as the rly-paid music-teacher in a fashionable boar ing-school, she sighs for “ what might have been.” “'ith the happy marriage of our country girl to the man of her choice our story ends. The millions of Gloster Plantagenet althou h haps ruthlessly acquired, are used or naug t ut good, andpeaceand ha in” dwell in the mansion over which p es peerless Helen Home. ' rm: END. THE DIME Dialo—gu—es- and Speakers EXHIBITIONS and Hart Murmurs EACH Boox 100 12310 Paons. The “ DIALOGUIS ” number forty-one issues or books, and the “ Sraanns” twenty-five. 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NIH-“UK”- 20?‘ Kit Ilandy'o (‘atchz Ur, 'l'hl- llnv lierl'lllrl. 4‘39 Kit. llnndy‘n Right flower; or, ituhv Sawmthe Boy Giant 444 Kit llandy‘n swoop; l-r, Lillie llm-kakln. lite Centaur. 4C8 Kit. llnmly‘o Hllok Scheme; hr,01(i'l‘un; Ruttlcr. Kit Bandy"— Dellvcrum-e: or, Banner Us”. , llnmly'n ’nrd; ur, llttllnllo-u Dan. the ll'reelancr. Kit lhuul)‘ Holiili'll' or, 'l'lwlnlantilinnt. 795 Kit Ilumly III Iii-d ituln: or, line Young Whirlwind. 799 Kit littllti)": lliK "while; nr,Saddle King Sam. 804 KM. lhuldt‘o llrlgmlo; WI" [)an, the Muunlaiu Guide. 921' Kid llnmly’n llrixntlt- in Arizona. 989 kit llundy'n slur Engagement. 8 Jan-k Drew. llw Nt-Im'hia. or, Eagle Kit the Bov Demon. 82 Jon-k Drew‘- Drom or, Lililr Hurricane. the Boy Captain. 80’) Jack Drew In Deadwood; or, l’ruapeci Pole. 87 Koon Knli’e on Guard: 0?. AHMUPO Abe, tho Boy Guldo 31 Keen-Knli’e. the i’rinre or the Drama. 5 \‘g‘ghqpud Joe, tlm Young Wandoring Jay. 18 The Dumb lipy. ‘1 Laaao Jul-k. lln- Younz Mil-tang". 53 The Border King; or.The Secret Foo. :1 Delaware Dick. 1 a hung R‘nler Spy. 4 Ilawk-e '0 Harry tlu- Young Trap 88 Rollo, I. e “0le un erfi or, The 184 Sure Hhoi. flet , ‘hr 0 ' Woman. 48 Sear-Fave Fatal. the Si ent Hunter. 178 Did Rolitury, the Hortnlt Trapper. .18 ’:"I'L’hf"l‘0il’l‘ t|he Tera; Terr-yr. * 284 an o 't or, rapper Tom’l C .88 Little‘vndilro, the Ynunx Prairie Nnmui. Dill-l ’l‘he Parooa De tootivet or Tho Little Rang... no The "local-ed Guide: or, huh Ravon, u... 11...». 800 Doro-Devil Dan, tho Ynnnu Prairie Ranger. '7' lilakakin Mike, the Boy Sharpohootor. 890 Little Foxfire, the Boy Sm. or, Old Caleb Arbucllo. 800 The Sky Demon; v-r, Rnlnlmlt, the mug... .34 \v hip-king Joe, the WW Rancht'ro. 409 Hercule-t “P. Dirk, illr iio} Ranger, 4l7 Wehi’oot Mono, thv Tramp Dom-ti". 457 \flngedi’oot Fred ; or. “iii Polar Soul. 468 'I anarac Tom. the Mg Trapper Boy. 482 fltonewull lloh, the Hay Trotal. 868 “hindering Ila-ll, tho Hrrmli Boy‘l'rappa. 65! Don Barr, tho l’lalno Freelanco. 670 Norway Nola, the Biz Bov Moonloinoor. 778 Iiiihland Harry the Wind RIflow- 828 [’0 or Jack. tho two Sport. BY ’1‘. J. PLANAGAN. 900 lilohlptaaa Dora the Pirate Canker, oan Cow y Captain RiTwo gidohlp-en; or, 'l‘ho Coroalr~Chuer’a mm Cu . v Ranger. rife-o BY DAN BURNING. 748 Iiei. Jack, the Secret liorvlre Spy. 7 ac and Jack. the lnvlnclblu. 07.11» Diobollcal Threo. 875 Detective Dave’s Clone Call. 84 Farrel Fox and Ilia Girl Ferret. 98 Farrel Fox‘s Sweep-Baku. in GEDRGE 0. JENKB. 888 Git Thar Owney tho Unknown. 888 Git Thar 0wney’o Plug. 818 The Demon Dot-tor; or, ndhold, the Kid Dotectiro. 581 Double-Carve Dan, the Pitcher Down". “in; Flute the Singer Detective; or Ownoy in a New Rolo. 808 The Pitcher Detectivo‘o 13o"; or, Dn’o Dooblo Play. 016 The Ocean Detectivet or. The Lotterqu oitho Bloch loop. 081 The Pitcher Detective-’- Toa heat Taaole. 7 y the Thoroughbred ton on Ivory moo. 779 Iron “and. the Charmed Driortlro 8“ Uncle San'a Detective in Chic-‘0. BY WI. 9. PATTEN. 089 Violet. Vane: tho Vulvot Sport: or, Tho Jubileo oi Jockqu 888 Violet Vane a Victory; or. Tho Jllper Clty Clout Out. 888 Violet and D oy, iho no: Portia. 05 Violet Vane’o vow; or.‘l‘ o Crany Deiocttvo'o Crait. 84 Violet Vane’o \ ea aloe; 0!, Tho Wlpo-Out. i: grits: $aae’au‘v‘e’ " t olr, Game atsCoflu City. oo one. o our not 6009: or rtvasm no Violet You as. Vanqoio .4. or.1‘ho u}. "mo, 1’68 Violet i one Vision; or, Tito Fiery Hand of r“... 489 The Diamond bport or, Tito Doubl— erooi Bod Rock. :3. 0a tan- .dyoter tor. "in Ooo. 1 Dal” uaro tho port from Doug, 887 Old iiowlblhell lhu Ran”: Dotootlu. .04 iron Fern the gian oi tin: or, Among tho Vultnroo. 81! The Bo rat-p Detective: or.Tho Doohlo nvtpwuoooo 841 Diurnal ave’l Dandy Paris or,ThoClooto¢oM.Clow 651 no... Roy F "lit. the You"! Amotolll’ fly. 08. Wild Vulcan, the Lotto-Range Rider. 714 Did Miner-y the Man from Mlmuri. 1’74 Clear-Grit Gal, tho Nova-Say-mo no”... 789 Earn Sheridan, the Seem Servico Epoch]. 80“ Cowboy lteve the Ranch Moaeot. 880 Hobby Nat. tho Tendorinot Dotoctlvo. and sharper fltoke’o Double Deal. 857 Bpotter Robin New York. 808 Spotter Bob‘o ll owery Racket. BY CDLDN EL DELL! IARA. i go. or, The Vallod Lady, lg: 3:: E3525: .° or. H'- Gunner'- mx 0-... BY CAPTAIN FRED. WIIITTAKLI. ho Son-(lat or. Tho Witch of Donn. io DI-h or, Tho Don’- Donna. "R n.'"'-v t 0 any Exprooo Ridor. ace and 3 or, The Childron of tho Chm. 34 atom or. Tho Land oltho In. tlidoro ’ Th. m 0. hilt or, Akin-or Jabol Colo'o 0 Th. 8” CHIN 0r. Tho Broihorl of tho Pia-oi 1.. 880 “0 Rohhor oitho loo. 0.0? tho Animal Kin: or. Round tho World. m Th. Tl’.’ 7' l’i 0'. Tho Loa'ao oitho hub. “to .80 M-. 88 California Joo'o War Tun. BY CAPT. J. I. c. ADA..- s.‘ (R Nick Whlh'. . “a. y iho bro-t 8hot of tho 8‘ No! II tho 3;! TWP". 50 met “8 ’I on or. In no Vol oi M. ‘r o Whito adia-t onnostmtor o'fiw o Old 8%5 Cabin: or. Tho Gnu-hon to tho w...“ 18 a o 5-1-1 ’0, tho Torror oi tho Praia-lo :8 an oohra-t or. Booo tho haul; , Grilll urn-r l. .n. "Hm... ' |‘h Onawiflziho “who’d. o ’ H E.“ mfithm-mr BY T. C. IIAllDACGII. 28 Niel." 0' the Night: or, 'l'hv l'-ry Spy 14,76. 37 The Hidden Lodge; ur Thr Littl- Hunter. 47 N lghtiln ale Nut, ' n7, '1 Hr, l-‘nrcll ('uytuills. 84 "IIIle tit-k: lrr, 'i‘iu‘ (hillatwa ml the Oregon Trait. HE it'll Ilnrel'oot, the “‘ood—lluwh; hr, ()lti PuwtlerJHu 94 .‘litlliifl‘lli. .l Iii-it 3 1'?" 'l he Boy 'l‘rumlrv. 106 Did Froaiy, the (v‘uillr: nr, 1 ll» \i'hitr Quotn. 128 Kltnvn Charley the White )Iualunger. 139 Jud e in lit‘ll Jr.: “LT-he WW Vigilante. 155 i-‘volt 'I‘r gler. llu- Sr ll: 0'. The Girl Avenger. 169 'l‘ornudo 'l‘ont; ur, njun Jiil'li Frnm er (You. 1’48 Ned Temple. tln- l‘lnrlier lloy, m- Thr Mad llunlrr. 19H Arhunuuw; or. 'l in film it 0| Fatw’ufievengo. 207 Navajo vah. the Bar Gold Hunter. 2“; (‘uptnin litlllot ; i-r. Lillie Tupkmt’o Crusade. 21H Plungy I’hll; or. mun. lhr Rt‘ : Jerehel. 24] In” Ill-“yo; “r, Tllr Roughl- hi tho Rnt'liiel. 255 (‘gptghg Anon , lhl! i\lll(-l)ln Hi Howie. 867 The lint-L'an Dotovtlve: or. Th» King of Road—agents. 279 Did “'ilwltt “r. 'rl'k' Ifll“3ll‘lll'll lieu-vermin“. 294 Dvnnmlle Dan: “r. The wais illadr of (lochetopo. 802 'l‘ 0 Mountain Detective: or,1‘he Trigger Bar Bully. 816 "hi Eclipae. 'l‘rumn (‘nrd hi Arizona. 826 The Ten i’ardn: yr. 1 he Tenor mTake-Noilco. 886 Ill: Bent-on: or, The “not?” of tho Lama, ‘45 I’ltlleu Matt; 0'. de 'l'hllulrrholi’l Secrot. '50: (um! ~ m mud Par '3 0‘ Tho-Terrible Six. 356 van-g Foot. ilio- lndnm ilrirrilve. 8N6 i‘nnialn (‘IItla-Au: or. he- ll ccuneor‘o Girl Foo. 896 Rough Rob: 0". The will Champion: oi Blue Elana. 411 The Nikon Lam-o: or.1‘he Kouec Ranch Rubia. 418 Felix Fox. the “fly Sttnttur; or. The Gold Gang of New York. 485 Tenn 1 ramp. the Burdor Rattler. 486 Phil Fla-n, tho- New York Fox: onle Riv-wry oime 9|. M5 The (‘liy \ amniroo: or, Red Rolfe'o Plg'wn. Gill Due A allot. Fin": or. The Loot Man of Keno Bot. $=e f oy fhadow: or. Felix Fox’o Hunt. o 1x09 n or hport: or. The Wuhin ton s tter. 499 flinglc Night. the Our-Eyed Sport. R w 5 Branded Den. the Mob! Ferret. 518 limiter Dick. thy Wharf-S ly Dean-live. 521 Jodgor Dlok‘a lie-l Dulth or. The Gotham Gold Gang. "ox and Falcon. lhr Boweryshadowa. rod‘er “ii-Ii; the Dock Ferret. Dodger Dlok I Double: or, The Rival Boy Detectivoo. Dodger Diok’o Dunner-ate can. 588 -!0¢l er Dii-k. iht- Boy Vitiorq; or. The Gang of Three. 878 ' he wo “In down: or, Dmlgrr Dick’s Slop Game. 588 llod or Dlt-k’a Drop; or. The Mun from Johny. 894 J“ o Lon. the Stmt-slnzor Detective. 010 Did Skinner, the: Gold Shark; or. Tony Sharp on Guard. 886 'l he Champion Par-(lax or, The Lucilor or Silver Bar. 687 Dru-ll Donn. the Dock Bov Detective. 645 kit the Pavement Sharp. 058 Billy Bantam, u... a... Bugle. 671 Jersey Jed, the Bm- Hnotlor: or. Shadowing the Shodowor. 885 Happy "n h, the Boy Mllllt‘ihn DmiiVl. 701 Photoarap Fred. the Camera Shar 715 wake Len, lhu QBnltrr City cmi. 782 Dnin Doll. tho Pavement riorilve: or, Trapping Big Game. “‘illlo'l, illt' Bell liny Dvlet‘lh‘e. 754 l‘ ill \"inka, tho ROM BOY Shadow. 763 la: 9, Ned. the Boy on Guard: or. Too Can]: Spidorl. 780 Tonkaway Tom. the Red Wizard The lgl'l'niill‘m Sportir ‘ n. t e uttery errott on. an: onion loll No 807 Davy Doon’o Bi. llounoo. , 905 lialdfioN Igget, tho Bo" Shadow. 981 The y on Denver. ' BY OIIA RLE! 308318. 118 Will Gov-ten, tho 30V Dotoouvo. Br“ Hardy: the lion gay. rhythm «to: or. iwdormto tho buntin- no now-mo Dick: or.’l‘ho H... il. i 8 Ilpndomne Ilarry, the Bootbloch Dotocti 47 “ ill W 88% the Thorough“. 188 Ill-oh Bela. Ill Wildfire I Rater. 7 Mike lorry tho Harbor Police Boy. I Will Wildfire in the Wooda. R lly Ba. age. the Railroad Br . Tran“ Ear-d; nr. Will Wilalii'ro Wino and Lao. Boh lloo lien: or. lily-min ot New York. B oo hot the Bank Runner. “ en aland [onmllnylldfiroéohlhwm ayar tn» o t _\-- nr. oSmau nob Roe Kettz'or. Driven to tho \i’all. u Bhuowodlt or, Bob ltockott‘o Fight for uio. . the Tire! King. Dallth Dave. tho Dandy Dotoetivo. Torn Ton-(tr; or. The B och Shoop oi tho l'loeh. 885 flan: Charcoal tho Prominm Darky. i :” “ltd” “Wilma "sthfly'd h am ‘ noon. o a 3 or, onon co and ' . .8! Dick Duh-way t or, A Doioto. Boy In Chu- 888 Young shin-pa; oi . Rollieking Mlho’om Trail. 874 Jolly Jim. ihr Detective Ar untieo. 889 Jolly {int’o Job; or, The con: Dotoetivo. 898 The “ ater-lloaadt or. Tho Young Thovoofhlrod. 805 lbuhawayt of Dakota: or. A Wootorn lad n Qooxor City. 884 lialnh Ready. the Hotol Boy Dotoetivo. I Tony Thorne. tho Vagabond Dotoctivo. Tho Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyor'l Bill-hi. 887 W hie-Awake Joe: or. A Boy of tho 7mm. 87’ Lari-’7'. the Leveiert or. Tho Blnodo oi tho Bonlovard. 408 Fire ,v Jack. the Rlvor—Rat Domtlvo. 488 The Loni. Finger: or. Tho Entrappod Cuhlov. 408 Fred Fiver tho Rot-arm Doiottive. “I Invincible ma. tho Pink!”- 1'0"“. “8 lllly Brick. tho Jolly Vagabond. 400 e-Awake Jerry. Do'octlvo; or Into-1M Ailvo. 47. Detective llod : or. The Mvntorv of Frank Hoorty.‘ 88" “'ild Dioh "no '0“ or. How He Fought for Honor. 801 llooto. the Boy Finn-an i or. Too Sharp ior tho Sharps i‘h Soon-i. ‘erviee Dov Detective. the K'ilk oi. A Lamb Agonzwwiolvm race 0 r anoaot or. e o {lo Fold. 888 l‘laeky Paul, the Boy flpeoalator. 007 oh an Earn, the Dain Dotectivoo. ‘0” The Carbotone Detective: or. Harry Holo‘o Bk Boat. 8 flu 5 too I puuuuunuuuu 983372.00!“ good-coo 5 hi 2 3' "' = 5’ E S r- I 167 Detective Fran h’o lwee oiah 89 Ned Norman. the Ga-irnrolftr. . 881 Tarke Billy tho Shim-’m-up Detectivo. on Fla-h ton-l... at. Mountain Mum. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN. 11 The Two Detootivea or Tho Fort-oo- oi low Aha Colt. tho Crow-Killzr. ’ ‘ a a“ Go lager, tho Giant Tra por. aolt of anio%n Ilia Boy P g; tz: r": r... t a. 4.1%. - 2....“- II on e or. a ortoa-oiol' . Nihh 0 lot, tho Cir:ol Prim. 488 Tao- ol. too Avllona B 810 Cool Oolorad .tho with.“ Mo 818 Cool Colorado I New York: or, The Cowhoy'o m BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR (I. I. A. tot Bolalo mu th I! n h h . m BII’alo mu 'n.‘.l’°.’.. 131.3353. Guido. :3 ll“ J. \V. QSBON. £8” The Ilh Ill iiiania oi'Nowhor‘o 498 (‘aotu- linrr. lha \lan lrnm Hard back. 587 Did Honcho" 9. Lhr