' 873M359 QSE‘? E h 

Entered It the Punt 0m» M New York, N. Y., M Second Class Mull Mutter.

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Copyrighted, His. by BEADLR A.\D ADAMS.

VOL. IV.

$2.50
a Year.

PUBLISHED WEEKLYBY BEADLE AND ADAMS,
No. 98 William Street, New York.

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kyérwfiri’é» .55

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May 19,1535.

NO. 52.

I Price,
Flve Cents.

WITH UPLIE'I‘ED HAND.

HOMELESS ;

0r, Two Orphan Girls in New York.
BY ALBERT W. AIKEN.

CHAPTER I.
r H E s 1 s T E R s .
The shades of night had fallen upon Gotham’s
great city; the supper of the poor was over,

«

and the dinners of the rich had been dispatched.
It was in the autumn time; the leaves were
falling, and already the chill night winds her-
alded the approach of winter’s grim old king.

Up the fashionable thoroughfare, New York’s
pride and boast, splendid Fifth avenue, two
young girls were walking.

0 daughters were they of any of the million-
aires whose lordly mansions lined the street;
their dresses denoted that, for they were com-
posed of neither silk nor satin, but only plain,

 

    

2

HOMELESS. .

 

serviceable stufl’, though made and trimmed
nicely, and fitting perfectly.

But, though robed so plainly, their faces and
terms would have added new charms to the
finest attire that the skill of mortal. could have
devised.

One was a brunette; her companion a. blonde:
strong contrast each to the other, these two sis-
ters, and yet it would have puzzled even the
gifted eyes of an artist to have decided which
was the lovelier of the twain.

The brunette, the elder, was tall and straight
as a pine tree, with a. glorious face, every fea-

ture as regular as the most exacting could de-
sire, lit up by a lovely pair of black eyes,
which could melt with love’s tenderness or flash
like the lightning with passicn’s fires.

The blon’de in this respect was vastly different
from the other, being, evidently, gentle, timid
and loving. ,

\ And now, as they walked up the avenue, the
elder sister’s arm was passed caressing] around
the other, and she whispered words 0 encour—
a ement, striving to sustain the faltering spirits
o the younger girl. \ ,

As we have said, the two maidens were sis-
ters; Katherine Monteal, the elder was called,
and the other, Hermia.

Who they were, and why they were wander-
ing through New York’s fashionable street, so
different from all whom they encountered, the
reader will see anon.

“ Cheer up, dear sister,” said Katherine. “ It
cannot be far off. The man at the depot said it
was on this side of the street, and that we could
not missit when we came to it, as it was on a
corner and built of white marble.” ,

“ Oh, but, Katherine dear, when I look at
these elegant houses, and see the well-dressed

. ople Within, the ladies all so splendidly at-
ired, glittering with diamonds and jewelry,
and then think of how plainly we are dressed,
it makes my heart sink. Surely we cannot be
anykindred to these fine people. How can we
two, poor girls, ask aid from such great folks?”

“ Hermie, you are a little stupid, and you
haven’t_got any more courage than a mousel”
Katherine exclaimed in the most decided man-

 

per. “I§aven’t you ever heard the old sayin ,

fine feathers make fine birds,’ and, you litt e
goose! don’t you know that if we Were dressed
up like these pretty ladies, whom we see through
the Windows, we could hold up our heads with
any of them? You could, at any rate, it I
couldn’t. because you are a beauty. clear, it
there ever was one in this world. Every one
owns that. Now, I am too dark—too muc like
a G1 sy—” _ ,

“ h, Katherine, how ,can on say so’f’,’ the
oungcr Sister interrupted. “ on are a. perfect
leopatra, so tall and stately, so far superior to

, “In courage and i'm udence. I acknowled e
butI yield the palm of eauty to you. Theregis
too much at the spit—fire about me to answer for
311? RIOflOus ‘Serpent of the Nile.’ But, never
mind our ood looks. we’re both of us complete ‘

beauties, ear, and here in New York I don’t i,

doubt that we can easily secure millionaires for ;
g husbands-i but, while we are waiting for the '
millionaires to make their appearance, we have ,

\

 

 

got tolive, and as I have but ten cents in my
pocket, I am somewhat in doubt where our sup-
per and lodging to—night is to come from if we
don’t succeed in flndinz Mr. Latchford’s house."

A sad look came over the face of the younger
girl and tears a peared in her eyes. _ .

The other un erstood the meaning of this 1111'
mediately.

“There, there 1” she exclaimed: “don’t feel
sad; I suppose I’m a horrid thing to speak'about
husbands when I know that you are not in the
market. But, you mustn’t be downcest; the
course of true love never did run smooth, you
know; you have a fine, true-hearted lover and I
wouldn t for a moment think of suggesting that
everything will not come right in the end, for I
think it Will. Ahl it he hadn’t been far away,
out in the Colorado mines seeking his fortune,
so as to come home and fit up a nest for you one
of these days, we wouldn’t be wandering like a
couple of Gipsies in the streets of this great City
to—ni ht.”

“ . own dear Will I” murmured the other.

“ el], if you expect ever to see him again,
you must keep up your courage. You are not
strong, my dear little sister, Ciyou know; and you
are not able to stand the bar ships that wouldn’t
have the least effect upon me. Now, if you al-
low yourself to yield to des ondency you will be
right down sick, the first t ing you know, and,
graciousl I think the future looks dark and un‘
certain enou h now, without your falling ill.”

“ Oh, I wil tr and keep up my courage, but
it seems so drea ful to be turned out of our little
home." .

“ Yes, and just as the apple crop was coming
in, too, and I was relying upon the monev from
that to carry us over the winter; and if I hadn’t
trusted to it, I should have kept some money
back. And only think, Hermie dear, I had just
paid the bill for repairing the house and barn—-
two hundred dollars! Oh! how much good that
two hundred dollars would do us nowlf’

f‘ But, I don’t understand, Katherine—how
could they take our little home away from us——
how could anybody be so cruel?”

“ I can understand the cruelty part well
enough, but where they ot the law and justice
for such a. thing is uite eyond my comprehen—
sion. Hermie, pret y, there have been a. great
many business details that I haven’t let. you
know. You haven’t any head for such things,
anyway, and you would only’bave worried your-

self to death fretting aboutthem, so Irthought.
4 better to keep them to myself: but now I sup—

pose I may as well make a. clean breast of it,
Of course you don’t remember much about our
father. You were only four years old when he
died. He was an inventor—invented all. sorts
of things, none of which ever brought him in
any money, and he had a very hard time to at
along, but mother ran the farm, which had ‘-
longed to her before she was married—ht was
her father’s—and so we all managed to live.

At last, father invented something which he

felt sure would make his fortune and he went
down to ,New York to see about i . He was so,
certain he was going to be successful this time,

and so discouraged about his previous failure,"

that not even to mother woul he saga single
word of what his invention was like.

e wrote

i

 

 

 

 

HOMELESS. ‘ 3

 

regularly from the city, and eva letter was
more and more encouraging. he fortune
which he had dreamed about £05 years at last
was in his grasp. Then came a letter saying
everything had been satisfactorily arranged and
that he would be home on the next Saturday.
The Saturday came but no father; in his place
aletter, though, saying he had been taken very
sick and was unable to travel; his illness had
come upon him so unexpected and was so
severe that he hardly knew what to make of
it; but that, it it had‘ a fatal ending all his
affairs were arranged and by applying to Mr.
Jonathan Latchford his second cousin,—and he
inclosed that gentleman’s business card—she
would learn all the particulars. Mother started
instantly for New York, but arrived too late,
for she found our father dead.”

The voice of the girl trembled at this point,
so that for a few moments she could not go on;
but at last subduing her emotion, she proceeded:

“ Mother went to Mr. Latchford, but that

entleman was astonished when mother told

im about father’s letter, and said that he real-
ly knew nothing at all about Mr. Montenl’s
affairs. He had come to see him about somein-
ventions, but they were not of a kind that he
could use in his factory and that was all there
was to it. Butz the man seemed so strangely
nervous and excited that mother suspected there
was something wrong about the matter, al-
though mother was like you, dear—gentle,
timid and unsuspecting. I take after father in
my disposition, and like him, have anature that
knows no such word as fail. Mr. Latchford
further stated he had taken a great interest in
father and that if he could be of any service
she might command him. Mother thanked him
and came home, sad enough. A few years
after, when things went badly with her through
sickness, and she desired to give us girls a good
education, she wrote to Mr. Latchford that she
desired to raise money by mortgaging the farm,
and he replied immediately that he would be
glad to oblige her and through him the matter
was arranged. Mother as you know never en-
tirely recovered from her illness, and in time
she died; and her last words to nae-I was then
eighteen—were, neVer to leave the farm and
never to separate from you until you were mar-
ried. ‘ You two girls can very easily get a liv-
ing ‘ofl the place,’ she said; ‘ an although
ever thing is mortgaged, you need not let that

tron le you, for you Will not be disturbed“

whether you pay an interest or not.’ I prom-
ised. of course, that would do as she required.”

“But how is it then that we have lost the
farm and furniture and everything?”

“ Because we were in the hands of a rascally
old wretchl” cried Katherine, indignant] .
“That lawyer, Mortimer Marmaduke, the o d
wretchl I trusted him. and signed all the papers
he put before me. 1 consented to the fore-
closure of the mortgages because he said that
would straighten matters out, and'I, like a. fool,
knowing no better, consented; but, Hermie, I
have an idea the lawyer is only Mr. Latcbford’s
agent, and that is why I have come to see him.”

an...—

cousin;
and has had a hard time to get along; we were I

 

CHAPTER II.
rovnarr moons AT THE men sun’s noon.

HERMIA gazed at her sister in astonishment,
not unmixed with alarm.

“Why, Katherine, what on earth do you
mean?”

“That I think there has been foul play in this
matter, and I am determined to learn the truth.
For the last three years I have had this suspi-
cion, and I have been doing all I can to examine
into the matter, and wi hin the last few months
I have learned some particulars’ which lead me
to believe that our father’s death and Mr. Latch-
ford’s rise to fortune are intimately connected.
You know Mr. Latchford was only a poor man
struggling along—and over head and ears in
debt, too, they sa —when father came to New
York to seek wea th, and found death instead.
There is something wrong about this matter,
Hermie, and our being turned out of our farm,
and driven forth, homeless into the world,
savors of persecution.
one had discovered that I was looking back,
trying to rake up the dead past. and was de-
termined, at any cost, to prevent me from
learning the truth.” ,

“ Oh, Katherine, you are so deep and cunning
compared to poor shallow mel” Hermia mur-
mured. “ I should never have dreamed of such
a thing. But, who would have any object in
interfering with us? We never wronged any
one? ,

“ Only one person in all the world, and he is
the guilty man who dreads discovery.”

“ And you think it is Mr. Latchford’i”

“I do,’ replied the other, firmly, “althou h
I admit I have very little evidence: but, w y
should father, who was the soul of honesty,
write when on what he was afraid was his
death-bed, that he had graspedafortune, and
that death had no terrors for him now that he
was ably to leave his wife and children well off?
Why refer to Mr. Latchford as knowing all,
and being willing to attend to everything, it it
was not so?” ‘ v
an‘;”And didn’t he know anything about it at
, “ He professed the most utter ignorance, and
said that father must have been out‘of his
senses to write such a thing; but the folks in
the boarding-house where father stopped, and

the doctor who attended him, all declared that ‘ n

father'was in perfect possession of all his senses
up to the very moment of his death and his
last words were: ‘Thank Heaven, I leave my
wife and children secure from want!’ ‘And he
also told the doctor, on one occasion, that he
had entered into an arrangement with Mr.

Latchford which would make millionaires 0t ,

both of them: and he further said: ‘I might
have ke t it all to myself, but Latchford is my
e’s a good fellow with a large family,

boys together and there is enough money for a
dozen reasonablemen in the thing, so I let him in
for a share. It will take the hard work of my
shoulders, and I don’t grudge him the ,moiiey,
for I know he will make a cod use of it.’ Now

would father have spoken that way 1: 1: mi
not been the truth?” .

“ I should think not.” /

It looks to me as it some '

 

 

a ' noMELEss.

 

 

“ Of course, you den’t remember him as I do. 1‘ The door opened and a. tall, hard-faced man

but filtllcl has one of the best and most selr.
sacrificing of men. His wife and children were
his idols and for a man of his wonderful talents
he was strangely modest and unassuming; he
was not in the least inclined to boast, and if he
said—as there isn’t the least doubt he did—that
he had int a fortune in his cousin’s way, it was
the trut , and Mn, Latchford, when he said he
didn’t know anything about it. told a wicked
lie! One thing is sure. Mr. Latchford from
being a poor man, all of a sudden got to he a rich
one,rjust as father said he would. Now, though
I really haven’t anything that in a court of
justice would be cal ed evidence, yet, Hormin,
don’t you think I have got enough to warrant
me in we ecting that we have been dreadfully
wronged? ’ i

“It does seem so; but, what do you intend to
do? What can you gain by calling upon this
'man if he has denied that e knows anything
about it?”

“ I want to meet him face to face and eye to
eye!” Katherine exclaimed, the color rising in
her cheeks and her brillant orbs flashing angry
fires. “I want to ask him if he cannot do
somethin for two poor orphan girls, wander-
ing home ess through the world, his own kin-
dred, and who haven’t an other living soul to
whom they can appeal. f be is a guilty man—-

if he wronged our mother. and is the one who 1

has been instrumental in driving us out of our
little”home, I shall be able to read it in his
ace. '

“And what then? Suppose he repulses us?”
asked Hermia in her timid, way, afi’righted at
her sister’s daring.

“Then Heaven will surely come into the list
and champion our causal Does not the poet
who writes as it inspired say, ‘Thrice is be
armed that hath his quarrel justl’ Don’t be
afraid. dear; though friendless and alone, the
great Providence that noteth even the fall of a

arrow will watch over us two poor orphan
girls- our innocence and our helplessness will be
‘our 5 ield and bucklerl”

“Bee, Katherine, seel” exclaimed Hermia,
abruptly; "there isa white marble house and
it is on a corner. too 1” '

“A palace. truly! Ah! how rich'lthis man
must be to afford to live in such a magnificent

.mansionl" r I

“Surely, Katherine, you will not dare to go
in therei’ the younger sister asked, impressed
by the splendor of the millionaire’s abode.

. “Indeed I will!” the other answered, reso-
lutely. “And you must not be afraid to come
with me either.” '

“Oh, lwillr do ust as you say of course.”
Timid as she was t e boldness of the other in-
spired her. v . .

Straight then to the door of the magnificent
mansion of the millionaire the two girls went.

The house was as brilliantly illuminated as
then ha etc were in progress within. Nothing
abas ed, owever, Katherine run the bell.

“Oh, I am so frightened!” ermia mur-

‘ murad,’a§ the peal of [the hall-bell. rang out
shrill and clear. .

‘ “There is too much at stake for me to give
way to tear am) if I felt it." the other replied.

\

dressed in a sort of livery appeared. The very
moment the girls looked upon him they became
sure that he was a low, miserable fellow, al-
though he endeavored to assume a lofty and
patronizing air.

“ Well, what do you want?” he exclaimed. ‘l

Katherine’s cheeks flushed scarlet at the
coarse manner in which the man spoke, and
there was an ugly glitter in her dark eyes.
l This was but a servant, though, and she could
_ not afford to waste words upon him; she had.
, hi her game in view.

‘ Does Mr. Latchford live here?” she asked.
“ Can’t you read—didn’t you see the name on

J the doorl” demanded the fellow, insolently.
[ Again angry words rose to the girl’s lips,
S but by an effort she kept them back, while
Hermie, frightened by. the lackey’s manner
clun r to her sister in alarm.

“ 5 Mr. Latchford in?”

“I don’t know whether he is or not!”

“ I should like to see him, if you please.”

“ Got an appointment with him?”

beginning to get the better of her prudence, for
I the m n’s manner was extremely aggravating.

gals, I must say, to come a-ringlng at a gentle-
l man’s door at sich an hour as this, and a-want—
in;r to see him, without having an appointment!
Be 06? with you about your business!” ‘

For a moment Katherine stood,dumfounded
at this outrageous treatment, not knowing what
on earth to make of it. She and her sister

appearance, so there was no reason for the ser-
vant speaking so roughly; and then the thought
came-to her that, possibly, the man had been
drinking, yet she could not discover any signs
of liquor about him.

Thegirl could not restrain herself any longer.

“How dare you speak in such a we
you insolent ruflian?” she cried, facing t a man
with flaming face and flashing eyes. “How
dare you speak to ladies in such a way? I wish
to see your master! Go instantl and tell
him that Katherine and Hermia onteal,~.the
orphan daughters of Gilbert Monteal, desire to
speak with him!” -

“ Oh and you’ve come about that old cock-
and-b story, I s’pose, that ought to have been
dead and buried ten or twelve
cried, thus betraying a knowle go of the past
that astonished the girls. “But, you won’t
make nothing by it. Do you think that Mr.
Latchford has nothing better to do than to lis-
ten to your yarns and whining? You want
mone , or course! Well, ou’ll get none here
and t e quicker you get on the better; so, you
miserable tramps, get out or I’ll throw you in-
to the street!" an be advanced through the
doorway with uplifted hand, just as if he in-
tended to strike them. '

of her anger, Katherine ad clinched her

little fists as though she intended to. give blow

for blow. . ' l
Whether the fellow would have executed his

«

threat is a‘ question. but the timely appearance

 

“No,” replied Katherine, shortly, her temper ’

“ ll, you have got lots of cheek, you two, I

were both nicely dressed, and she knew there 
could not be anything suspicious about their

to us,

ears ago!” he '

The sisters recoiled, althou 'h in the flerceness ‘

 

 

 

 

 

;,, ...

. «.m—mfl“ Jan; :‘A “uni... A...

 
 
 
   

 

\

upon the scene of a. fourth party made a. di-
Version.

“ Hallo, what is the matter i” asked a gentle- ‘

man, a caring behind the servant in the door-
way. he new-comer was young, about the
medium hight, with regular features, upon
which sat a grave and thoughtful expression,
dark hair and eyes, and was plainly attired in a
neat dark suit.

An evil look appeared upon the lackey’s face 1‘

as the voice reached his ears, and turning
around, in an ugly way, he exclaimed:

“ You better mind your own business, Mr.
Secretary, you ain’t got no call to interfere in
this matterl”

“ Haven’t I? Well, I will make it my business
to interfere, and if you don’t keep acivil tongue
in your head it will be the worse for you.”

ior the moment it seemed as though the fel-
low meditated an angry re ly and than, appar-
ently thinking better of it, e growled:

“’Tain’t no business of yours, and the man-
ter won’t like your interfering!”

CHAPTER III.
FA 0 E T o F a c E .

TEE young man now made a step forward so
that the two girls could see him.

“You must permit,me to be the judge of
that,” he answered. “ What is it you require,
ladies?”

He was as courteous as the other was surly.

 

“ We wish to see Mr. Latchford,” Katherine ,

replied.

"And he don’t want to see ’cm, I knowl”
blurted out the servant. “He’s got something
better to do than to listen to a pack of foolish
stories.”

A strange expression passed rapidly across
the face of the young gentleman as he listened
to the man’s words. The lackey had been

drinking, and pretty freely too. although he;

had such an iron-like head that if his wits be-
came a little muddled he rarely showed it in
any other way. ‘

“ It seems to me you assume to know a. great
deal about this matter,” the secretary remark-
ed, uietly. “ How do you know that Mr.
Late iford will not want to see these ladies?
They are strangers to me, and yet I fancy I am
a little better acquainted with Mr. Latchford’s
business than you can possibly be.” i

“ Sir, we never saw him before, and he has no
reason to treat us in the outrageous manner
that he hasl” Katherine exclaimed, hotly.

“ I tell you the master won’t want to see ’em:
and if you insist on bringing ’em in, you’ll jist
git into a hornet’s nest for your painsl”

“What do you know about the matter? Mr.
Latchford may wish to see them. Does be ex-
pect avisit from you?” and he addressed the
question _to the girls.

“No, r, not that we know of. We did not
tell any one that we were coming to see him,
Katherine replied, always acting as s okesman,
for Hermia did nothing but cling to her sister,
and gaze timidly into the faces of the speakers.

“ Do you know these ladiesi’wnd the secretary
put the question directly to the. lackey.

"‘How shonld 1 know ’eml I never saw ’em
before in my life l’,’

 

HOMELESS. 3

 

"Mr. Latchford is In, and at leisure, just
i having finished dinner, and [am so sure, ladies,
that he will be glad to see you, that I will take
the responsibility of conducting on to the
reception-room, where he now is if you will
have the kindness to follow me, 'ss— Ibeg
your pardon, will you favor me with your
names.”

uMonteal, sir,” replied the elder sister who
already had formed a. very favorable opinion of
the young man. “ My name is Katherine Mon-
teal, and this is my sister, Hermie.”

The lackey watched the face of the young man
closely, as if he expected him, by the play of
his features, to betray that the names were
familiar to him' but, if such was his idea, he
was doomed to disappointment, for the gentle-
1 man gave no indication that he had ever heard
f the names before. -

“ This way, if you please,’l he said.

“ It will cost you your place, young teller,”
growled the servant.

“ Mr. J abez Jones, have the kindness to attend
to your own business and I will look after
minel” ._

The millionaire was enjoying an after-dinner
cigar in the luxuriantiy furnished reception—
room, when, with scarcely any warning, the
Secretary, whose name, by the way, was alem
Kerreton, conducted the girls into the apart-
ment—the servant. whom the young man had
addressedas Jabez Jones, bringing up the rear
as if curious to see what reception the strangers
would get.

“Two 01mg ladies wish to see you, Mr.
Latchfor ,” said Kerreton, ushering the girls
into the apartment, where the millionaire was
reclining in an easy-chair, surrounded by a
cloud of fragrant smoke. “I knew you were
not busy, so I took the liberty of introducing
them, trusting that you would excuse me. Mr.
1Igntlcyhford, Miss Katherine and Hermie Mon-

en . A ,
Jonathan Latchford was a. man of fifty—a
short, thick-set, “ pudgy " sort of a person, with
aubig head, short neck, and take him for all in
a 1
up ’ ‘ arance.

he manner in which he received this
announcement was extremely strange; his face
became as red as fire—the cigar dropped from
i his hand; his head sunk back amid the, cushii us
of the easy-chair, and a convulsive sort of gasp
came from his throat.

Not an atom of this emotion was lost upon the
secretary, yet not the slightest thing in his
manner betrayed how close was the watch he
was keeping. >

 

i .
i And theservant, Jabez, erceived also how

deeply the millionaire was
to his assistance.

‘ “Will you have a glass of water, sir!” but
Mr. Latchfurd, struggling to recovar his com-
posure waved him off, and‘then Jabez turned
savagely upon the secretary: ,

“ There, didn’t I tell you so, Mr. busy-body!
I couldn‘t help it, sir,” and he again addressed

, his master. “1 did the best I could to keep

5 them out, but this here chap would fetch them
in, s ite ot me, though I told him I knew you
we dn’t like it!” ' p ,

ected,‘ and hastened

with a. most decidedly commonplace '

,0-

 

 

   

6

HOMELESS.

 

“The young ladies were so anxious to see you
that I took the liberty of introducing them,
knowing how accessible you are enorall to all
comers,” observed Kerreton. in is coo , quiet
way—so soft, so careles:=, and yet as straight to
the point as the hammer to the anvil.

The millionrire looked in a helpless sort of
wa , first at Kerreton and then at the lackey,
an a close observer would have immediately
suspected that in a measure both men had some
hold upon him.

“Yes, yes,” he murmured in a rather
bewildered manner, “it is all right, of course.
I am always glad to see everybody that comes
upon business, but it was so unexpected, so—I
don’t know as I can explain it exactly, but for
the moment I was overcome by surprise.”

“They wouldn’t have come in if I had had
my way!” muttered the servant with a savage
look at Kerreton, which that gentleman received
in the most placid manner.

“It is all righhthe surprise and—have the
{goodness to retire, please, as I presume the

adies would. prefer to state their business in
private.”

The secretary bowed and quitted the apart—
ment, followed by the lackey, grumbling to
himself under his breath, but when the pair
were out of the room, and the door was closed

behind them, Jones’s wrath found vent in‘

words:

“ Now, you have upset a pretty kettle of fish.
blame oul” he cried, shaking his clinched fist
in the ace of the other. “I don’t know what
has got into the old man to stand it so mealy-
mouthed. I expected him to order [me to kick
you out of the house.”

“And no doubt you would have been glad to

rform that operation,” Kerreton remarked,

aughing. .

“I would have done itas quick as eat my
dinner!”

‘ “If on were able.” .

“Ab el” and Jones fairly gasped at the im-
pudence of the other. i

“Yes; and I don’t think you are.”

“Why, i am big enough to put you over my
knee and break you in two!” blurted J abez.

As an answer, the secretary, with a. strength
that few would imagine dwelt within his frame,
took the other by the throat with an iron gripe
and shook him until his teeth fairly chattered
and his knees knocked together. I

“You miserable hound l” he exclaimed. “I
could find it in my heart to shake the lifeout of
your vile carcass, only I know that I would be
cheating the hangmanl”

Then he released his hold, and Jones, whose

chairs. “ I am not very well, and my physician
ordered me to be particular whom I received, so
as not to get unduly excited by strangers, and
that is the reason why my servant was so ob-
stinate about admitting you.”

Now, Katherine felt sure there was not a
word of truth in this statement. Her quick in-
stincts warned her that she and her sister were
the only visitors whom the millionaire did not
wish to see; and he being, in some mysterious
way, informed of their Visit, had given orders
to refuse them admittance, for now she was
convinced the lackey had recognized them at
once, and that was the reason why he had
treated them so rudely.

“ My memory is not so good as it once was: I
am getting old, you see; but your name is quite
familiar to me; I think I knew your—your
mother.”

“And our father also, sir—Gilbert Montesl.
He died here in New York some twelve years
ago. '

“ Ah, yes, I think I remember,” and again the
millionaire breathed very hard, and his face
showed signs of suppressed excitement.

“Both of our parents are dead, sir; we are
two orphan girls, all alone in the world, and we
have come to you for'advice.”

anything, and generally you can get plenty of
that for the asking,” he remarked, with a feeble
attempt to appear merry.

“ We had a little farm which gave us a mod-
est support, but by a mean, treacherous trick
we have been robbed of everything—driven
homeless out into the world—and now we come
to you to know—what has become of our
father’s property 3’”

CHAPTER IV.
WAR Is DECLAREIY.
AGAIN the head of the old man sunk hack in
his chair, and he breathed with difficulty. ,
“You see. as I told you, Iam 'not very well,"
he murmured after quite a long pause, “ and the

 

were speaking of our father’s property—I did
not know that be mad any.”

“ And I am sure he had—a magnificent prop-
erty,” replied Katherine, flrmly; “ for he said
so upon his death-bed, and he was too ood and
honest a man to go into the other wor d with a.
lie upon his lips.”

of 'this kind, but I believe she did not succeed in
discovering anything.”

“Because the rogues who stole my father’s
property, and thus robbed the widow and the or-

 

bravado had been suddenly and completely l. phans of their rights, were so cunning that they
taken out of him, tell to the floor in a. heap. l concealed all traces of their crime, and my

« “ The next time have a care how you talk to
me,” and with a parting kick, so vi orously be— ,
stowed that it made the lackey how with pain,
the secretary walked away, leaving the astou-
ished servant to nurse his injuries and relieve
his mind by swaaring all sorts of] horrible ven-
eance upon the ma whom, tor the first time,
fie now know to be his master.
After the door closed behind the two men,
, Latchford spoke to the two girls: ,
“Take a seat.” and he motioned them to ,

./~

poor, dear mother was of such an easy, gentle~
nature that she was not fitted to play the part
of a sleuth-hound and hunt down the perpetra-
tors of this ignoble crime; but I, sir, am com-
posed of diflerent stuff. For the last few years

have devoted all my spare momentsto the un-
raveling of this dark and horrid mystery. In
some way, I am convinced, the Villain, or vil-
lains, who stole the fortune which my father
left, became amassed of the intth once that I
wasbusyon ektrmhsoekmza ew. Alarm

“Advice—yes, adv1ce; well, that doesn’t cost '

slightest bit of excitement upsets me. But you '

“ Yes, I remember; your mother had an idea I

     

vu—

.. . - ’ "
 w

 

    
 
   

‘w‘——{)._

M‘_

 

‘thinkin
,tim, an he further said that, aided by his

HOMELESS. 7

 

was at once taken, and this crafty, cunning
robber, for I think there is only one, feared a
poor, weak, helpless girl, and so he set to work
to drive my sister and myself forth, homeless,
into the world. The lawyer, Mortimer Marma-
duke, was the tool chosen to accomplish the
crime. Little by little the not was wound
around us, and we totally unsuspecting all the
while. Two mortgages were in existence. In
my ignorance of the law I allowed both to be
foreclosed, not knowing that by so doing I was
placing myself entirely in the power of my en-
emy,so t at, at a moment’s warning, myself
and sister could be turned out of our home and
stripped of almost everything we possessed.
And the moment we were fairly in the toil the
trap was sprung. Never were there two poor
girls taken more com letely at a disadvantage.
Satisfied, then, that armaduke, whom I had
so completely trusted, was nothing but an ar-
rant rogue, sought other counsel, but was told
that it was too late, and that I had no redress.
Then I determined to come to New York and
see nu I” '

Latchford had listened impatiently to this re-
cital. and all the time it seemed as if he was
nervin g himself for some great effort.

“What do you come to me for?” he asked,
querulously. “I helped your mother some
years ago, but that is no reason why I should

6 relied upon to come to the rescue of the
whole family every time you get into any diffi-
culty." ’

“ I come to you because I believe you are the
man who has turned my sister and myself out
into the world I” the gir replied, boldly.

An ugly look passed over the fat face of the

' millionaire, and he clinched his hands nervously

together. _

“ Take care—take care what you are saying,
young ladvl” he exclaimed, attempting,to as-
sume a defiant manner. “What have I to do
with your affairs? It is true that, some years
ago, out of pity for {pui- mother's distresses, I
recommended Mr. armaduke to lend her
money, taking the farm and Personal property
as security, but beyond that haven’t had any:
thing to do with the matter.” ,

“ What did this vile wretch of alawyer menu,
then, when he said that if I would marry him,
he would take measures to stop the persecution
of us two girls; and more—that he would ad-
vance money to aid me in whatever enterprise
I had in view, and which was so distastefu to a
certain arty in New York? Concealing the
rage ang horror into which this offer threw
me, I asked him if he was only an a ent, and if
the man in New York whose track was upon,
was the principal? ’He admitted it was so,

was going to become his willing vic-

money, I would have no difficulty in bringing
my game to terms, and then we would be rich!
He also said that in his opinion, all the legal
proceedings were part of a cunningly-dewsed
plan to get me into the ower of the man who
cared the evil record of is past life would be
brought to light, and he tried to get me to ex-
plain to him what the trouble was, and asked
me why a. New York millionaire should be w11-I
ling to spend his money like water to crush two

\

..

 

poor youug girls and drive them forth helpless.
At last, in bitter scorn, I drove him from my
presence. and now I come to you. Why do
you persecute us, two creatures who have never
wronged a human being? Is it because on
foiblared us years ago of the fortune our fat er
e t

“ Young lady I cannot longer listen to these
insultsl” Latrhford exclaimed, rising and at-
tempting to assume a virtuous indignation. “ I
have listened to you calmlv and patiently. I
would have been inclined to offer you assistance.
but this outrageous cnlumny puts to flight all
ideas of that sort. Once for all, I tell youI
know nothing about any fortune left by your
father, and it is absurd that so much im ortance
should be attached to the insane delus cos of a
delirious, dying man. I have. in the past, as-
sisted your family, as by the tie of relationship
which exists. I am, as a man, bound to do; but
that is ended now. This ridiculous insult
makes us strangers henceforth. leige me by
leaving my house!”

“ You will have war then?” Katherine cried,
rising likee. young Juno, and as proud and dur-
ing as though she had the wealth of a nation at
her back.

“ You are crazy, young woman, and I must
really, in justice to my own self-respect, decline
to have any further conversation with you 1”

“Be it sol To Heaven I commit my cause
and the Great Judge who miles above will surely
see that in time, despite your wealth and in-
fluence, justice will be done the orphan girls!”

Then taking Hermia’s trembling hand in
hers, she left the apartment. The younger
sister had been terror—stricken at tho boldness
of Katherine in bearding the money king in his
own house and home. .

“ He isa guilty man,” Katherine whispered

to Hermie. as they passed through the hall; “ he i

did not dare to look me in the face during all
the time we were i=f)eaking; never once did his
eyes meet mine. am satisfied now that my
suspicion is true. This man’s fortune has come
from pur father’ brain; this lordly mansion,
this elegant furniture, all this luxury by right e
belongs to us I"

“Oh, but, Katherine, just think! What
chance do we stand, we two poor girls, without
even a single friend to aid us, against this man
with all his money? I am not as bright and
smart as you, yet even to my ignorance it is
plain we cannot be e to win in a struggle
against this man 0 wealth without Heaven
works a miracle in our favor}? ‘

“ Then the miracle will come i” the otherre-
plied, in the most ,decided tones. “It is not
possible that a just Providence will permit the
orphan and the friendless to be overcome by the '
more, weight of money. Gloomy as is the pros-
pect before us now, forget not that every cloud

as a silver lining, and that it is always the
darkest hourbefore the dawn.”

The secretary was in waiting at the portal to
let them out.

He glanced carefully around, to be. certain
that no one was near. and then spoke rapidly:

“ Did you have a stormy interview?” -

Now although there was no articularrealon
why Katherine should trust th strange young ‘

/'.

 

 

lo HOMELESS.

 

gentleman, excepting that he had interfered to
secure her admission to the presence of Mr.
Latchford, something about him irresistibly at-
tracted her, so she answered frankly:

, “Yes, sir, our interview was more stormy
than leasant.”

“ on came on a certain est—to demand a
certain thing: what said he ”

The girls were amazed at the knowledge be
displayed, and while Katherine was hesitating
how to frame her answer, he, misunderstanding
the cause of her hesitation, said:

“ I beg {our pardon for putting such a ques«
tion, bu assure you it comes not from any
officious spirit. I t ink I can be of service to
you if I know all the facts in the case.”

“.Although you are a stranger, I feel sure,
air, that you are a friend and not an enemy,’
the elder sister replied, while the young one
sweetly smiled, for both trusted the new ac-
quaintance.

“ He refused, of course?”

. ~“ Yes, denied all knowled e,‘and said it was
but the insane delusion of a ying man.”

“Your father was in perfect possession of all
gisds’enses, for I was at his bedside when he

1e

“ Oh, sir, is that possible?” Katherine ex-
claimed, tears standing in the eyes of both the
sisters as they gazed upon the handsome face of
the secretary, who was brought so near them,
seemingly by this declaration. .

“ It is the truth, but the fact is not known ‘to
any one, and I have ood reason for asking you

, never to reveal it. tell it to you, so that you
may trust me. I think I can serve you, and I
will, most surely, if there is an opportunity, for
the love I once bore your father, who was a
friend to me at a time when I needed friends
very badl indeed.”

The el er sister turned a beaming glance
upon the youn er one as much as to say, “Did
I not tell you seven would aid us?” -

" It was by chance that I happened to notice
you when you were at the door, and then I was
determined that you should havo speech with
Mr. Latchford. I thought when he saw you
his heart might be touched, and he might be
impelled to do you justice. He, at heart, is not
so bad, but when a man once enters upon the
downward path, it is terribly,hard to either
stop or retrace his footsteps. He refused and
defied you, then?"

4‘ Yes.”

" Then the struggle must begin at once. Are
you well provided with money! Do not be of-
ended at the question, for you must rank mean
an ally inthe future, and if our own purse is
notivell-supplied you must a ow me to act as
our banker, for the present; then, when the
htis won and byou are in possession of the
wealth that is rig tfully yours you can easily
pa me back again.”

oth of the girls’ faces were covered with/

blushes at this generous offer, tendered in such

' a respectful manner.
Ittseeined' like a giftstraight from HeaVen
though, for the o hans were not only without
acquaintances in city but they were almost
penn ess. . -
“Indeed. Bin.” said Katherine at last. “we

 

haven't any money to speak of and I didn’t
reall know where we should 0 tonight.”

“ ere are ten dollars V and erreton drewa
hill from his pocket boo and gave it to Kath-
er he.
came in at the Grand Central depot?”

“ Yes, sir.”

“And you can find your way back there,
without any trouble?”

“ Oh, yes, sir.”

“Well, go to any of the hotels opposite the
depot, the large one on the corner is perhaps
the best. Tell the clerk that you have come to
the city on business for a few days and wish a.
room. He will take good care of you and See
that ou are made comfortable. In the mom-
ing will have the pleasure of waiting upon

an, and then we can talk matters over at our
eisure. Don't hesitate to take and use the
money for itisonly a loan for a short time
remem r,” he added, perceiving that the 
hesitated.

For once Hermie was the first to speak:

I‘Oh, we will take it, sir; and very much
obliged indeed we are.” ‘

Slowly Katherine put the bill in her little
wallet, a bright blush upon her cheeks and an
odd look in her brilliant eyes. She was strange-
ly silent now—this usually talkative girl.

Kerreton held open t a door and the two
passed through. .

“ Good-night," he said.

“Good-night," they replied, and once again
the two orphans were on the avenue.

“ You were right, Katherine, when you said '

that Heaven wonld watch over us!” Hermia
exclaimed.

 

CHAPTER V.
‘ A DARK SCHEME.

Hanna? had the door closed behind the two
girls when the old man sunk into his easy-chair
again and drawing forth his handkerchief
wiped away the perspiration which stood in
great drops u n his forehead.

“ The bold aggagell’he cried; “the forward,
impudent hussyl and she means it, too—every
word of it! If she had the money to back her
indomitable courage what wouldn t she accom-
plish? But, she hasn’t the money, and I have,
and I will spend every cent of it, too, before
ibepshall know the truth. ButI fear—I fear

er

“I don’t doubt it, dad!” said a shrill voice
and the millionaire, turning in his chair, beheld
a oung man who had enteredvunperceived. ,

he resemblance between the two was so
marked that any observer would have taken
them at once for father and son.

The young man, thoughgwas not as good-
looking as his sire. although old Latchford could
lay but little claim to any manly beauty. He
had a dull, stolid look, and no one would have
suspected from his appearance that he had
an overstock of brains; while the son, on the
contrary, was possessed of asharp. cunning ex-

ression, and a close observer would have let

im down for a keen, unscrupulous rascal.

He was short invstature, but thin in fleshpin- I
stead of being stout like the father, had red

hair. -a freekled face, and, altogether. was ex-

“ That will suffice for the present. You i

Jazz: a.-

>«NN<.-...n..,

«N.

2p

HOMELESS. 9

 

tremely nnprepossesslng, although dressed in
the “loudest " manner.

“Hello, where did you come from?” growled
the old man, annoyed.

“Next room,” responded the he eful who an-
sWered to the name of Abner. “ hap sued to
be in there; the door was ajar, and so had the

leasure of overbearing all the conversation
tween you and that delightfully fresh young
lady, who really ought to be put on ice for fear
she will spoil.” Then he helped himself to a
chair, where he sat and grinned at his sire in a
peculiarly exasperating way.

“ You had better mind your own business;
you are always interfering where you are not
wanted.”

“Yes, but, respected dad, it strikes me forci-
bl this is my business. This young lady is a.
re ative of mine isn’t she? A very charming
girl, indeed— uite my style. The little one is a
pretty thing, ut she hasn’t got the fire and the

assion of the elder sister. Oh, I tell you,
ather, she is a hummerl In the language of
the classics, ‘she is a jay—bird and too utterly too
too, for anythingl”

“Bah! what do you want of her, abeggar?” ,

“Yes, dad; but who made her a beggar, ehi
There’s a conundrum for you to try your aged
jaws upon. If you, find it too much for you,

ive it up, and I ll tip you another.” And this
gopeful oung man leaned back in his chair
and win ed in[a knowing sort-of—way at his
parent. _

“ What do you mean by that insinuation?”
demanded Latchford, getting red in the face.

“ Oh, you know we enough; why do you

want to try and 'play innocent? Maybe you
think I ain’t up to snufl, but I am, an 1 uess
I know a heap—sight more than you think do."

“ What do you know!”

“I was in the library the other day when
that lawyer from the country, Mortimer Mar-
maduke, was here. ” _

The old man started in surprise and the son
chuckled.

“That rather astonishes your weak nerves
doesn’t it? You didn’t think I was in the closet
when you walked into the room.”

“Ab, you were there, then, on purpose 'to
play the spy upon me 1” cried the old man, With

ssion.
pa“ Nothing of the sort; it was pure accident.
I was hunting after an old book which had
been stuck away in the closet, the door swung
to after me, and just as I was about to open
it on and the law ei- entered the room, and it
suddenly occurre to me when I heard you
say upon entering, that the library was per-
fectly rivate, and there wasn’t any danger of
bein tempted or overheard, it might not
be a d thin for me if I heard the converse-
tion, so I let t e door remain closed, set down
on a ile of books and listened.” .

“ verheard every word, then, I suppose!”

“Right you are, ovemor—every blessed
word, and to prove it ’11 repeat the substance
of the conversation. You said to Marmaduke,
now that everything was fixed so that the two
orphan girls could be driven out at a few days’

notice, you wanted the machinery of the law‘
~ put in motion. but you did not want to be in

any way associated with the transaction. He
was a wily old duck and tried in a sl way to
find out wk on were so desirous 0 driving
the girls ou omeless into the world, and you
, were idiot enough to give him an inkling of
‘ what was up, by saying that, after they were
1 driven forth as beggars, it was possible they
‘ would give up their insane notion of trying to
measure strength with you. This at once gave
, him a. c_lew, and the old rascal, according to the
‘ girl, tried to double on you andlsecure one of
the girls for himself, thin ing no doubt he could
; make a ‘stake out of the ob. There’s the
whole thing in a nutshell. he girl was right
in her suspicions. You were the man who ad-
vanced the money on the mortgages; you were
; the man who took advantage of the moment
, when you knew they could not ossihly meet
your demands to turn them out. ut you were
stupid in so doing: the girl was puttering in
her feeble wa , at this secret in your life, and
if you had le t her alone, theochances are she
would have married some country 'osey, and
then, with the cares of a family-on er mind,
would never have thought of troubling you;
but now you have forced her into the war,
‘ and I’ll bet big odds that unless a certain part
I know of takes a hand in the game she will
worry you, heavy l”

“ Ah, do you think so?” and Latchford looked
his anno ance and apprehension.

“I fee sure of it; and do you know, dad, I’ve
often wondered what that private detective
used to come to see you about. I thought, ma -
be. there was something wron down to t e
factory, but now I understand; e was laying
the spy upon the girl. Dad I’m the o y man
who can get you out of this hobblel”

“ You?’

“Yes, sir; I’m the boy I”

d “”I don’t exactly understand what you can
0.
“ Of course you don’t; and you won’t until I
tell you. But I say, dad, since I’ve been let
$30,th little thing I know a heap more than ,1

“The older we grow the wiser we are,” ob-
served the father. dryly. I

“ The airs that Jabez Jones has‘put on in this
house has often astonished me; he’s only a ser-
vant. but he acts once in awhile as if the house
couldn’t get on without him, particularly when
, he gets a little rum on board. I s’ ose he knows
‘ something, don’t be, father? and 6 could make
/ it u ly for you if he chose to talk?”
‘ “ abez is a faithful servant, and he will never
1 do aught to injure me.” .
l “ Perhaps not; and then that other fellow

this secretary, this business manager, for that

, is what he really is; why, he seems to know a

 

,1 eat deal more about your business than you

‘ oyourself.” _
‘ He is as useful to me as my right ban
‘ find "I don’t know what I should do withou
, im. .
' “ And has he got a hold on you?” asked
Abner. '
, “No, no; why should you think sol” de-
r mended the old man, with a new alarm. '
“ Onlv thatvhe acts in a cool. quiet way. and '

 

  

 

10

HOMELESS.

 

don’t seem to care two pins Whether school‘

keeps or not.” '

“ He knows his value, that is all; the business
has been built up under his eye, and he is so
skillful in all the details that he could build up
an opposition business tomorrow if he knew
certain things.” .

“ Yes, es; I understand; but he has nothing
then, to o with this girl affair?”

“ Oh, no; not in the least.”

“But he introduced them in spite of J ones I”

“The reason for that is plain enough; he saw
that Jabez had been drinking, and as he talked
roughly to the girls, as a gentleman, he inter-
fered. How could he know they were the last
persons in the world I wished to see?”

“But Jahez did, and he was on the look—out
for them. I suppose that telegram this morn-
ing warned you they had started for New York.
Marmaduke mired you, eh?”

The old man grunted; and the son, who saw
he had hit upon the tram, laughed.

“Now, dad, to business; I can put a stop to
this thing if you are inclined to come down
handsomely.”

“How? Explain.”

“By etting the girls out of the we ,” and
the son eaned forward in his chair an fairly
hissed the words.

“ Out of the way?” and Latchford’s face wore
a. troubled ex ression. ‘

“Yes; dont be alarmed; I don’t mean any-
thin desperate. I don’t pi'opigse to run my
hea into a hangman’s noose. hat 1 mean is,

, toflx them so they won’t trouble you any more.”

“ Ah, Abner, if they troubled me they would
trouble you fully as much.”

“You don’t mean to say that if they suc-
ceeded they would sweep everything away 7”

“ Pretty much so.”

“ Well, it is time that I took hold of
the matter then. Dad, I’ve taken a fancy to
that Spitfire. I think she is just the kind of a
girl to suit me, and I’ve got a friend who will
be glad to take the little one. It will cost some

. money on know, for we will have to carry the

'rls o , ad that sort of thing takes cash; but,
if the plan succeeds, neither one of the two or-
phans will be apt to make mischief again. Can

have a. thousand to commence on? Perhaps
that will be all I shall want.” -

“ Yes; but make a sure thin of it.”

“You may bet on me! l’l go for ’em at
once. I’ll at a sharp little lad on their track,
so' I shall e able to trace them without diffi-
culty. Ta ta, governor. Inside of twenty-four
hours you may expect news.” Then Abner
sauntered out.

- .CHAPTER VI.
LURED AWAY.

LIGHT were the hearts of the two girls as they
retraced their steps down the avenue.

‘ “Thererwhat did I tell you?” Katherine ex-z
claimed. ‘ ‘ It is along lane that has no turning,’
'is what the old proverb says, and it is a very
true saying, too. Just think howunlucky we
have been for a long timez and when we ap-
proached the house of that miscrable old wretch
to-night, wouldn’t it have troubled us to call to
mind the name of a single friend able and will-

 

 

 f V  to help us in this, our hour of need?"

"Indeed it would' and that gentleman seems
to be so nice, too. If it had not been for him
we would neVer have been admitted."

“ It was all arranged beforehand, I am satis-
fied of it. Why should that great brute behave
so insolently to us? We were perfect strangers
to him, and he had no reason to suppose we
were not ladies, if we wasn’t dressed up in silks
and satins. No one ever spoke to us in such a
way before, and there wasn’t anything in our
appearance to warrant such ill—treatment, I am
sure. No, Hermia, it wasn’t our looks, but this
old scoundrel, who has robbed us of our heri-
tage, was warned, in some way, that we were
coming to see him, and he had that ugly brute
on the watch for the express purpose of fright-
ening us away. He feared—the miserable ras-
cal—to meet; the two poor orphans whom he had
robbed. Didn’t I tell you, sister, that if I once
came face to face with him I could tell you
whetherhe had wronged—us or not? I knew I
could read in his face whether he was innocent
or guilty, and he is guilty, dear: I am as sure
of it as if I had all the proofs of his guilt right
here in mv hand.”

“ But, Katherine, it seems almost beyond he-.
lief that we two poor things can do anything
against this man. Just'think of the money he
can afford to spend, while we have nothing.”

“Oh, yes, we have! We have right and jus-._

tice on our side,” replied the other, stoutly.
Hasn’t almost a miracle happened already?
Here we were, all alone in this great wilderness
of a. city with but ten cents in our pockets, no
place to sleep, and although I didn’t say any-
thing to you about' it, I had made up my mind
that we should have to lodge to-night on a.
beach in some of the public garks—that is, if
the police would allow us to 0 so, and I was
rather doubtful on that point, when up springs
this generous young man, just like one of the
good fairies we used to read about, when we
were children, in the story books: he gives us ten
dollars, and promises to come and look after us
to—morrow. Now, if we don’t believe after this
that HeaVen is watching over us, then we ought
to be burnt at the stake for a pair of infldels.”
Hermia smiled: the good spirits of Katherine
were contagious and there was no disputing
the fact that fortune seemed to be looking wit
a kindly eye upon the wild and desperate ad-
venture of the two orphans, who had come,
friendless, to the great city to fight a battle
with a man worth a million. \

As Katherine had believed, they had no diflL,

culty in finding their way back to the neigh-
borhood of the depot, or in discovering the
hotel indicated by the secretary.

“We had better go and get our traveling-

bags from the bagga e-room,” Katherine sug-

gested, “ for it won’t ook right for us to go to
a hotel without any baggage. Ilnav’n’t traveled
much, but I have read enough about it, and I
know it will cause remark if we go empty-
handed.” ‘

Hermia coincided with her elder sister in this,
asshe generally did in everythin so the girls

0: liken bags and then crossed the street to the "
0 e . . -

The were received with all possible" polite-
ness. or there was that air of good—breeding

 

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about them which convinced the experienced
hotel clerk that they were ladies.

A room was assigned to them, which
Katherine paid for in advance, although the
clerk told them, jocosely, there was no need of
that, as he was not at all afraid of their run-
nin away.

“ on see, dear,” Katherine said, after they
were sung in their room, “ the big city is not
such a bad place, after all. I'm sure we have
no reason to complain, for we have met friends
at almost every turn. The only ones who have
treated us harshly are the vile old wretch,
whom we have come to strip of his ill-gotten
gains, and his servant, who, of course, was set
on by his master to frighten us.”

To the young, the future generally seems
bright, but if the two girls could have looked
forward a. few hours, they would have dis
covered that the city held creatures ready to
destroy and devour upon the first opportunity.

The two orphans, totally unsuspecting, had
never for an instant dreamed of being followed,
but they had been, and an easy task it was for
the spy, for neither one of the two had ever
taken the trouble to look behind, and no soon 3r
did the watcher see them safely located in the
hotel, than off he set to warn the master who
had em loyed him,

And t at master, as he reader doubtless sus-
pects, was no other the Abner Latchford. '

The whereabouts of the girls asaertained, he
immediately set to work upon a lan which
only a man with the spice of a fien in his na—
ture would ever have concocted. -

It was early in the evening when the girl
reached the hotel, and although from their
country life they were used to retiring to rest
early, yet when the hour of nine arrived, their
usual time for oing to bed, neitherone of the
two felt at all s eepy. The excitement through
which they had passed, since leaving their quiet
country home, tended to make them wakeful.

And so they sat and talked, speculating
vaguely, upon the manner in which Jonathan
Latchford had robbed their father, and for the
first time, Katherine explained to Hermia how
it was that her suspicions chanced to be aroused
that her father’s dying words were true, and
that Latchford had risen to wealth by using
another man’s property. ,

At the post ofl‘ice one day, in the little village
where the two girls lived, which also was the
general store of the neighborhood, Katherine,
while waiting to be served, picked up a trade
journal which happened to e lying upon the
counter. She was an inveterate reader, and
nothing in the newspaper line came amiss to
her, so noticing the paper she glanced at it.
The old store-keeper told her to “ take it alo ”
as be reckoned it didn’t belong to anybo y,
havin “ been kicking around for along time.”

Wit never a susp1cion of howlimportant was
the “find,” she carried the newspaper heme

‘ and when she examined it, found among other:

matters that it gave a portrait and a full de-
scription of the career—eulogistic in the highest

‘ degree—of the “successful man of business,

Jonathan Latchford.” -The writer related how
that gentleman had struggled along in his early

 

 

HOMELESS. ‘ 1,1

which came near swamping him, until, by a-
series of lucky_hits, “ seine ten or twelve years
ago,” he lifted himself from the verge of bank-
ruptcy to the firm foundation of financial sno—
cess. And now it was estimated that the
“plant” of his factory—she didn’t understand
exactly what this meant, but supposed it was a
short way of saying the “whole business ”—
with its trade secrets was worth four or five
hundred thousand dollars.

The girl read and pondered. Ten or twelve
years ago! That was just about the time of her
father’s death. Latchford was ‘a poor man
then, but suddenly blossomed out into a rich
one: was not his prosperity due to what he had
received from his cousin, her father? The more
she pondered the matter, the more she became
convinced that she and her sister had been
cruel] wronged and in her heart grew up a
wild esire for justice. .

Without stopping to calculate how it was
possigcle for one situated as she to do battle with
so po erful a man as the millionaire, the brave
girl resolved to devote the rest of .her life to as-
certaining the truth.

She began a series of cautious inquiries and
it soon came to Latchford’s knowledge that the '
young woman was attempting to rake up the
past, and, in order to stop her, he began to use
the power which his wealth gave him, and with
what results the reader has seen.

About half-past nine one of the bell-boys of
the hotel came to the door of the girls’ ‘room and ,
announced that a gentleman in the parlor
desired to speak with them. i

The orphans thought at once that it must be
the secretary, for there was nobody else in the
city who knew anything about them.

“He said he would come in the morning, but
perhaps he thought it would be better to come
to—night, so as to be sure that we are all safe,”
Katherine remarked, a slight blush upon her
fair face and ajoyous light gleaming in her
glorious eyes. ‘ .

Hermia had never seen her sister so, much
interested in a gentleman before, and so
remarked, at which. Katharine cried ‘fNon-
sense I” and then ’ the two descended to the
parlor.

But, the gentleman who waited there was not
the secretary. On the contrary, a stranger, an
elderly gentleman, with afigreve face, and snow-
white hair and heard. 9 was neat] attired
in 'a. dark business suit wore an old~ ashioned
stand-up collar and a white cravat. ,

He was just such a man as eight rsons out
of ten, meeting upon the street, wo d have set
down for a minister, and the ninth one would
have taken him for a deacon at the least, while
the tenth might have had sus icions. '

He arose and bowed in t e politest manner
when the girls entered the room, hesitating,
upon perceiving that it was tenanted by a
stranger. ‘ ‘ ’ ’

“Miss Katherine Monteal and Miss Hermie
Monteal, I presume?” he said with an elaborate
bow to each rl as he called her byname.

“Yes, sir,’ Katherinere lied. ’ '

‘f Allow me to have the onor of introducing , ’
myself. My name is Cadamus, John Cndamus,

- / business life, told about the adverse fortune , and I have come upon a ratherpeculiar mission,

 

 be made satisfactory.”

 

1 have the honor to represent your relativa, Mr.

Jonathan Latchford.”

The girls were so taken by surprise by this

announcement that they knew not what to

an .
xI perceive that you are amazed,” he con- ‘
tinned, “and I can readily imagine that to coach.

receive a message from him after the unpleasant
interview which you had with him to-night,
was about the last thing in your thoughts. ]
haye the honor to be Mr. Latchford’s confiden-

tial man of business, and I can assure you that I
Pray be ,
seated while I explain matters.” And then he ‘

gentleman keeps few secrets from me:

placed chairs for the girls.

Bewildered by the surprise of the unexpected
event the orphans sat down and waited for the
explanation. ‘

“ You happened by ill-luck to call upon Mr.
Latchford at a very inopportune time this
evening,” the old gentlemen remarked. “He
has been greatly worried by business details all
day long, and was in a bad humor tonight—in
just the mood, my dear young ladies, to be
gruff and crust to almost any one. But, after
you departed, e thought the matter over; he
explained everything to me and did me the
honor to ask my advice in the premises. At
once, my dear young ladies, I perceived where
the trouble lay. certain party has been
poisoning the mind of Mr. Latchford against

on for quite a long time, and when I discovered
ibis, the idea at once occurred to me that it was
more than possible that that same party—I will
throw aside all disguise, and say that 1 refer to
the lawyer, Mortimer Marmaduke—that he, I
repeat, was doing his best, in a covert, under-
hand—way, of course, (such men never do a My-
thing openly), to influence you against r.

tchford—to make you believe, in fact, that
Mr. Latchford was willing and eager to get a
, chance to injure you. The idea of it! To injure
you two poor girls and his own blood relations,
tool ltis absurd!”

The listeners did not know what to make of
this, and even the clear-headed, quick-witted
Katherine was puzzled.

“But never mind Mr. Marmaduke; his mal-
lce has done all the mischief that is possible
now. He will not make any more trouble.
And, the long and short of the matter is, young
ladies, to come to the end at once, I am here
commissioned by Mr. Latchford to ask you to
return tohis house and have a talk with him
over this tangled matter. The light I have
managed to let in upon the subject makes it
look ve different now, to him. He is your
nearest living relative, and, as Providence has
been pleased to take away all of his once lar e,

vfamily, with the exce tion of his eldest son, 9
thinks it is only right 9 should be on amicable
terms with on two girls.”

“We wil go, of course ” Katherine said; al-
.though there was a misgi ng in her mind that,
de ite all these flattering words, Mr Latch-
i'or was not the man to do her justice.

“ The carriage is at the door, if you will have
the kindness to put on your things and descend,
and you may rest assured that everything will

 

Confused and puzzled. the girls complied with

.

HOMELESS.

 

the request,_and in a few minutes more entered

a coach draw: up before the door of the hotel.
CHAPTER VII.
WHAT BEFELL THEM.
THERE was a young man sitting within the

“My son, Thomas,” said the old gentleman,

‘ as he opened the door and assisted the young

ladies to enter, then got in himself, closed the
door, and away the vehicle went.

“1f one of you ladies do not mind riding
backward, I shall be much obliged if you would
take the front seat, for it’always makes me
deathly sick to sit with my back to the horses,”
he had said, as he assisted the girls into the
coach.

Katherine was superior to this weakness and
volunteered to sit in the front, so that she and
the young man sat together, while Hermie and
the old gentleman occupied the rear seat.

He commenced to talk briskly the moment
the coach started.

“ Who did you get, my son? This is not our
re lar man, is it?"

‘No, sir; this is a. stranger; our man was
gone.”

The girls looked earnestly at each other: the
tones of the (young man’s voice seemed not un-
familiar, an yet they could not recall that t ey

had ever met him before, although the face, ike '

the voice, appeared familiar.

“You told him where we wished to go?”

“ Oh, yes; he says he knows the house, well
enough.”

“ It would really be a wonder if he didn’t,
for almost everybody in the cit knows the
Latchford ‘ alace,’ as it is calle . How did
you like the ooks of the mansion?”

The question was addressed to Katherine, but
her mind was so full of thoughts that she did
not feel in any mood for conversation, and
therefore all of Mr. Cadamus’s endeavors to
draw her out were fruitless.

“Hallo, where on earth is the fellow goin
to?” Mr. Cadamus cried, abruptly, as the vein-
ole swung around a corner into quite a dark
8 me . /

/ “ Why this is wrong—this isn’t the way l” ex-
claimed the youn man. '

“Are you sure e understood you, when you
gave him the directions?”

“ Oh, yes, and he said he knew the house”, ,

“ Is he sober?”

“He seems to be}?

“Speak to him.”

The young man rapped on the glass window
in the front of the coach, and after considerable,
trouble succeeded in making the driver compre-
hend that he wanted to speak to him, so [that
individual pulled his horses up to a slower pace

. and veiled out:

“ What is it?” ' \‘ V

"/You are going wron —this isn’t the way!
We want to go to Mr. tchford’s house, on
Fifth avenue.”

“All right! I know it—know it like a. book,
and I will take you there.”

“But you are not going right—you are tak- .

ing us out of the way. .
‘Only/ ’round the block: that’s all. I don’t

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stoma-as. 13

 

want to take your money without ,givin the l
worth of it, and I thought, maybe, you’d lke a 1
little turn in the park.”

“Oh, the fellow is drunk; there is no mistake
about itl The impudence of the ideal” the old
man cried. “ My son tell him to drive to Mr.
Latchford’s house on Il‘ifth avenue immediatel .
We want to go there and nowhere else, and t e ,‘
quicker we get there the better I"

The young man repeated these instructions to
the driver, who simply sung out, “All right!”
and wheeled his horses around.

“ Of all cool impudence this caps the climax.
Take us for a drive in the park! Well, well!”
Mr. Cadamus observed.

“ I believe the fellow is under the influence of ‘
liq‘uor,” the young man remarked.

‘Goodness gracious! I hope notl” the old I
gentleman exolaimed. “This comes of taking
a strange coachman. The man whom we al-
ways employ, when we don’t use our own
horses, is as steady as a clock. I hope he won’t
upset us. It‘ seems to me that he is driving
very carelessly. I declare it has given me quite
a. shock. My boy, have you got my medicine
in your pocket? really feel quite faint."

“ Yes, sir, I have it.”

“Put a. few drops on the sponge, please, so
that I can inhale it. Upom my word I am
positively upset.” _

The young man drewa vial from his pocket

poured some 0 the fluid in it upon the sponge,
a strange sickening odor filling the coach the
moment the vial was opened.

And, while this was being done, the old gen-
tleman kept up acoustant succession of com-

plaints, declaring that his head was swimming ,

ground, so that he felt exactly as if he was
ylng. .

When the sponge was saturated with the pun-
gent fluid the young man passed it over to the
old gentleman.

“Here, father I” he said; and the driver, who,
from his seat upon the box, had been stealthin
watching through the window in the front of
the coach all that was taking place within, the
moment he saw the sponge passed from the one

youn man to ped upon the front window—a.
signa , evident y, to warn the driver that the
deed was done, and that he might relax the
speed of his steeds, which had been hurried on.
ward so that the noise' of the wheels would
drolgvn any cries that might come from the

“ bid you ever see a nicer job worked?" ex-

? claimed the younger man with a fiendish smile

as he surveyed the hapless maidens. -‘

“ Never! It worked like a charm."

“Well, that is the way to do it; the more
carefully a job is lanned the easier it always is
to carry it out. on see we have managed the
matter so scientifically that these two will dis~
appear as completely and leave as little trace
behind them as though they had been swallowed
up by the earth.”

“Yes, but who will have any interest in try-
ing to trace them?” I

“Not a soul on earth; they are friendless and
alone, and as much in our power as if we had
them on a desert island a thousand miles from
the main land I” ‘

CHAPTER VIII.
IN THE TOILS.

TEE trap had been sprung and the prey
secured; and as the two orphans were separated
by their captors, we will follow the fortune of
thgvyounficr girl first.

hen ermia recovered her senses she found
herself lying upon a. bed, surrounded by utter
darkness. For a few moments after she be-
came conscious, she felt so weak and confused
that she could only lie still, gaze around her
and wonder what it all meant.

Then as she became stronger, little by little
she rea ized what had occurred. She sat up and
called for Katherine, but there was no answer
to her plaintive appeal. ,

The darkness and silence appalled her, and
trembling with alarm, she rose from the bed
and groped her way around the room.

It was a small apartment, with a window at
one end and a door at the other, but both were
fastened securely and defied her utmost power.

Satisfied at last that she was a helpless pris- \

 

to the other whipped up his horses so that they

3rung ahead with a sudden jerk that seemed .

imost violent enough to tear the coach in
peces. ‘ -
Those within had all that they could do to

taneously from the lips of the girls, and the

men, as if in order to reassure them, passed
their arms around their waists, and while hold- ‘

ing them in an iron gripe, helpless, almost suffo-
cated by the violent pressure, the old man
pressed the sponge tothe nostrils of Hermie.
while the young man‘ did the same with the
vial to Katherine.

Too late: the orphan ‘girls realized that they
had been inanaredl ainly they struggled!
They. were helpless in the ower of their cruel
enemies, and though they ought with all their
mightito resist the snbtile influence of the drug,
ygtbthey could not, and soon sunk into insensx-

l i . I

hen the two ceased testing 1e, and sunk
buck helpless against the side 0 t e coach. the

alarm came simul- .

oner, she groped her way back to the bed, and

threw herself upon it, bursting1 into a. flood of

‘ tears, and as she sobbed as if er heart would

l break, slumber gradually stole upon her, for
she was Wearied with the toils of the day and
the great ex’citement through which she had
passed, so finally she slept soundly, and did not
awake until the morning sun shone brightly
in through the window. ‘

With astart of alarm she sat up and looked
around her-for the moment bewildered by the
strangeness of the situation.

She was in an attic room of a. miserable old.
house, and when she arose and went to the
windowthe dreary outlook showeiherthat she
had been removed from the city to the country
and a,wilder and more desolate-view she had
never looked upon; A ‘

I / The apartment was furnished in the scantiest
manner—nothing but the bed, a small table and,

. a rickety chair; no carpet upon the floor, and
no curtain to the window. \

l After she had completed her survey ofthe,

l

, .

 

[l4

surroundings, Hermie. sat down upon the edge

of the bed and tried to uess at the meaning of
this strange affair. ticking the pluck and
energy of her sister she felt utterly helpless; and
while wonderin what was to become of her, the
door was unloc ed and a tall, muscular~looking
woman entered the room. She Was lainly dress-

HOMELESS.

 

 

worso for you. Give up all ideas of trying to
get away and make up your mind to settle down
and be content. I tell on, you will he a great
deal better ofEif you 0, butif you are obsti-
nate and try to kick against the traces you

1' will only haVe yourself to blame if harsh

ed and had such a peculiar look a )out her that 1

Hermia’s heart sunk immediately upon her
appearance.
' ‘Hallo, you are awake, eh?” exclaimed the
woman, perceiving the girl was sitting up.

" Yes, ma’am.” ,

“Well, how do you like your quarters here?
Do you think you will be comfortable?”

“But wh am I here, ma’am? Why have I

l

i
1

measures are used.”

“Oh, if you are a woman, and have a hu-
man heart, surely you will not keep me here,
torn as I have been from the side of my dear
sister, the only living relative that I have in
the world who cares aught for me? Oh, let me
go and Heaven will bless you for the deedl”
pleaded the poor girl, with outstretched hands
and streamin eyes.

But she might as well have talked to the‘

been broug t here? What is the meaning of ‘ winds for 811 the good it did. ~

this outra e on an innocent and unprotected

“Don’t snivel like a big baby,” retorted the

girl?" 910 aimed Hermia: Showmg rare Spirit! ‘woman, “and don’t whine about your sister:
{she’s all right, and 1’11 bet a dollar ain’t troub-

for one of her gentle nature. I
' “What is the matter with you—what on
earth are you talking about?” demanded the

other in her'coarse, unWomanly way.
H

jailer should strive to aflect ignorance.

1
on surely understand, ma’am, what I  trouble,
mean,” replied Hermie, amazed that the wo- ‘ first as last,
man, who evidently was to play the part of intend to do it,

ling her head much about you. Just make
your mind that you are going to stay here and

e a good girl and we won’t have the least
You may as well make up your mind
I have agreed to keep you and 1
You can’t get out of this
room, and even if you could, you would be dis.

“ 9. I don’t undersmnd What you are tan}-  covered before you could escape from the
ing about at all. IkflOW that YOU are here In , house; and even supposing that by a, lucky
my house, of course, and I also 'now that there ‘ chance you got; out; of the house, there are a
has been a bargain made for me to keep you, l couple of do 5 in the yard who would tear those

and in return you are to do certain work which
I have for you, but as to your quarrel with
anybody else, or any outrage. as you call it, I
' don’t know anything about it.” .

“A bargain made for me to stay here and
do work?” cried Hermie. bewildered.

“ That is what 1 said.”

“A bargain with Whom?”

“Ah, now, you are asking what I donlt
know; I didn’t have the arranging of the af-
fair. My husband attended to' that. All I

, 'know is that you were tocome here and stay
for awhile.”

' “But I do not wish to stay; I wish to go
home to my sister. I have been decoyed away
from her in the most brutal manner, and un-
less I am instantly permitted to go away I
shall make complaint to the proper authorities
and all concerned in this outrage shall be pun-
ished l” .

Never before had Hermie. spoken With such

hit, and after the words were said she was

most fri htened at her own boldness.

“ Well, don’t know anything about all that;
it isn’t any business of mine,” the woman an-

swered, not in the least alarmed by the threat.

J‘You are here and you have got to stay a
certain time and do a certain amount of work,
and that is all there is to it. And as for an
law, authorities or officers troubling me, that is
where you are a little out. It’s a mighty
'lo’nely spot here, away up in these mountains.
Why, there ain’t a house for two miles in any
direction, and as it is oflf the main' road no
travelers ever come nigh it. A dozen people
might be murdered here, and buried, and no
one would be the wiser for it. If you will take
ma advice, while you are in this house you
w 1 dolexactly as ou are told, and if you,

don’t, I

/

 

give you fair warning. it will be the 1 her up as 63511378511 she had been

nice limbs o yours into a hundred pieces be-
fore you could get a dozen yards away. So
stop fretting; make up your mind to be con-
tented and we V; ill get on very well together.”

“But this is shameful treatment, and 1 have '

never done anything to deserve itl” the poor
girl retested, pale with terror.

“ ou will be treated like a princess it you
will only be reasonable. What is the good of
your cutting up rusty? It won’t help you any,
and it will only compel me to make things un-
comfortable for you, and I’will make ’em un-
comfortable enough too if you don’t do as I say.

It you are ugly, I will keep you here on bread ‘

and water, and if that don’t tame you, I’ll cut\
off the bread and bring you down to water
alone: and if that don’t umble you then I will
stri the clothes off that dainty back, tie you to
the ed~post, and try the effect of a cowhide on
your soft white flesh, until the very blood
comes.” _

And the woman, approaching the girl, as-
sumed such a ferocious aspect that Hermie, wild
with fright, retreated from her to the further
corner of the apartment. I

“ 0h, mercy, merc , spare me i” shrieked the
terrified prisoner, an then, overcome with fear,
she gave aloud cry and fainted dead away.

The woman remained motionless for a moment
Floating over her work and then with a. savage _

auglh she a proached her. ‘

f guess will not have much difficulty with
this lady-bird. If starvation don’t make her do
what I want the cowhide will, sure i”

 

CHAPTER 1X.

. Hanson’s TASKS. ‘
THE woman bent over the senseless girl picked
but a babe

  

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HOMELESS.

13

 

and placed her upon the bed; then unloosening
her garments she began to chafe her hands. l

Slowly consciousness returned to Hermia, but I
when she opened her eyes and looked upward 1
into the harsh face of the egress a shudder shook ;
her delicate form.

“ Oh, you needn’t be afraid; I ain’t a—going to ‘
hurtnyou if you will only mind me and do as I
sa

A dee sigh came from Hermia’s lips, as she
reflects how utterly helpless she was.

“Now if you say you will be reasonable. and
won’t worry me any more about going away, I
will go down-stairs and bring you up a nice
breakfast, coffee and bread and butter, and some
nice fresh eggs.” .

Again Hermie. sighed, but when she thought
the matter over she came to the conclusion that
it would be useless to resist, for by assumin to
he resigned the chances of escape were doub ed.

“ I must make myself contented; there is

nothing else for me todo,” she replied, acting -

upon this idea.
“That is the way to talk! What is the use of

being ugl , Igarticularly when it won’t do you
any ood ow, be. patient for a few minutes
and will bring you up your breakfast, and,

after you eat that, then we will get to work.”

The woman was careful to lock the door when
she departed, and Hermie. understood from this
that the vigilance of her keeper would not be
likely to be relaxed even if she did assume to be
contented.

She fell to eculating upon the nature of the
work which 5 e was to do, but of course was
not able to conjecture what it could be. \

In a. short time her keeper returned, bringing
quite an appetizing repast on a waiter, and also
another chair. Placing the breakfast upon the
table she invited the girl to eat.

“ here, fall to at once.” she said. “If you
will only be good and do as you are told, you,
will be treated just like a queen, but if ou are
ugly and obstinate, the road you will ave to
travel will be so hard that it will make you
wish you were dead ten times a day l”

Now timid Hermia stood in mortal fear of
this coarse creature, and did not doubt that her
jailer would be as good as her word, so resolved
to comply with a] she demanded,_.if possible,
' and thus escape bad treatment. ,

She ate the breakfast, and really enjoyed the
meal, for the food was good and carefully
cooked—the woman sitting near by and watch-
ing the girl narrowly, as though striving to
make out whether she had really accepted the
situation or not.

The meal concluded, the woman took up the

tra .

‘yNow we will see about work,” she com-
menced. “ I’ll be back in a few moments.”

Again there was the same care about locking
the door, and a ain Hermia wearied her mind
in wondering w at ,could be wanted of her.

Whenthe woman returned she brought with
her a portable writing-desk, which she opened
upon the table. I

“You are a good writer,

Jenny, I believe?”
. she said.

 

“ I beg your pardon, my name is not Jenny,
but Hermie,” the orphan replied,
in};r thus accosted. , ,

"‘ Oh, I don’t care what you have been called 1”
the other retorted, impatiently. "Jenny is a

ood name, and it is a favorite with me; so

enny is what I shall always call you, and you
mustn’t forget to answer to it either, while you
are in this house. My name, by the way, is
Moll . Now, you are a. good writer, I believe?”

“ es, ma’am; I was always considered so at
school.” ~

“ And I am a good writer, too, although ou.
would hardly think so to look at my big sts,

and yet there was one trick with the en in
whic I am not at all proficient; I cant imi-
tate. Now 1 have seen people, not half as good

writers as I am, who could imitate almost any
handwriting so exactly that the original
writer could never have told the difference.”
:‘Ihave a gift in that way,” replied Her-
mia, innocently. never dreaming what dark ob-
ject her jailer ad in View.
“Oh, you can imitate handwritings then?”
“Very well indeed; they used to say so at
school.” ‘
“Sit down and give me a s ecimen of our
skill,” and the woman placedpa chair so Sthat
the girl could sit at the desk. \“I always had a. l '

curiosity about that sort of thing, and perhaps . ‘

when J see how you do it, I can learn, for I sup-
pose it is only a trick, after all.”

“I think not,” said Hermia. taking up a en " ' ‘

and preparing to write. The w man ad
placed a .ile sheet of paper before her. “I
never had any one teach me. I think that it is
a natural gift and cannot be taught, althOUgh I
have no doubt that one having it could improve
by practice, like anything else, but if the gift is
wanting, all the teaching and practica in the
world will not be of any use.” v

“ May be so, and per aps that is the reason
why I never could do anything at it. But you ‘ -
try. Here, cop that signature, that’sa hard
one to imitate, should think.” "

The woman had drawn a little package of
papers from her pocket, and the, girl saw at
once that they were bank checks. She took the
to? one and placed it on the desk as she spoke.

t‘was a check for twenty-five dollars drawn
on a. New York bank and signed W. H. Van-
derbilt.

“No. I do not think that is very difficult,” .
and, after a few preliminary flourishes to try
the pen and ink, both of which were superb—
the on gold, and a really beautiful {tool—she
wro the signature upon the blank paper.

Hermie. certainly was a genius in this line,
for the signature was such an exact imitation
of the genuine that the woman could not re- '
press a cry of admiration.

“Well, well, deary, it you can’t handle the
pen then I wouldn’t sa sol” she cried. “ Ican’t V
see the least bit of d' erence between the two,”
and she compared them 0 refully. “Perhaps
witha glass one might etect a difference.”
Then she drew a magnifying lens from her
pocket, such as is in common use in banks, and
examined the signature through it.

Hermie. was pleased atthis tribute touber
skill, for this washer one great aocom lishment. ’

“Just alike under. the glass, tool t_ is reall
marvelous.” the woman observed. “But.

amazed at be‘. guess you couldn’t imitate all the writing _

l

\d_

i?
,

 

 

 

 

 

10 HOMELESS.

J.

though—the filling out and the figures as well
as the signature.” v

“ Yes, I can, and that is my gift. J ustas the
naturalist will from the single bone of an ex-
tinct animal reconstruct t e whole, so I, if
given a single good specimen of any handwrit-
mg, Will he ah e to write a page or more in the
same hand.”

“Tr it! Here is a blank iece of paper.
Now 1: e first one is numbered 1 ,050, make this
10,051, and instead of twenty-five dollars write
five thousand four hundred and fifty, and see if
you can make it so exact that no one would
suspect that the two were written bya different

rson.” And as she sEoke the woman placed
a blank check before t e girl, the check being
on the same bank and in every respect a com-
plete counterpart of the other.

Thus put upon her mettle, and so ignorant of

. all business aflairs that she did not com rehend

the nature of the task set before her,
soon completed the check.

Again a c of amazement escaped from the
woman, and er hands trembled as she grasped
the glass with which to inspect this master-
piece, while Hermia wondered at her agitation.

“ Itis perfect! perfect I" the woman exclaimed.
“ Ah, my duckymyou are a treasure, indeed,
and if you will 0 y be good and content your-
self to stay with me, you shall have anything

ermia

in the world that {on want! Now, dear, here

are two letters the. I wish you to cop , and if

' you can do it as well as not, imitate t 9 hand—

writing so that they will all be alike.”

This was a strange request, and the letters
were stranger still.

The first was in a woman’s hand and recited
that the writer was the widow of a Methodist
clergyman,the Reverend Mr. Jacob Blinkerstofl,

d by the unexpected death of her husband,
Egrself and five small children were left entirely
destitute, with the exception of a small piece of
propert heavily mortgaged. If she could
seem to sufficient funds to keep possession
of this property, she could derive from it income
enou h to support herself and helpless little
fam y, ands e begged the favor of a small

t, even as low as a dollar would be thank-

yreceived. The letter was interspersed with
Scriptural notations and was a document
eminently ca culated to deceive the unwary.

The second letter, evidently written by a
man, merely said that Mrs. Jacob Blinkerstofl
was Well known to the writer as a. pious and
deservin woman, and he recommended her to
the oflices of all Christian people, but

there was no signature.

“.Here is the signature, and instead of imi-
tating the handwriting of that letter, build up
a letter from the signature, since you are able
to do so. ”

The signature wason alittle scrap of aper
which looked as if it had been torn from a arger
piece, and it was the name of a divine whose
reputation is world-wide.

All this seemed very mysterious to Hermie,

, but she then ht it best to comply with the

request, and w en the work was completed the

. woman was loud in her praises.

-' “Now, then, my duck , I want you to make

a thousand copies of can one of those letters so

 

I can send them all over the country. I’m the
minister’s widow, my darling,” and here she
grinned horribly, “ and if the good people don’t
send me some money you and I and my five
little ones will starve. But you needn’t be
afraid; those letters will fetch the stamps.
Work as fast as you can, ducky, and you shall
have a splendid dinner."

With this assurance, she departed, leaving
the girl much mystified.

 

CHAPTER X.
nrmmnm‘s ADVENTURES.

LEAVING Hermia to work awa at the strange
task which “ Molly” had given er, we will re-
turn to the elder of the orphan iris and relate
the strange adventures which be ell her.

Like her sister when she recovered her senses
she found herself in a strange apartment and in
utter darkness.

Like her she sprung from the bed and groped
about the room only to discover that she was a
close prisoner, and then not knowing what else
to do, laid down upon the bed and waited for
the morning to come, but she could not sleep;
the nervous excitement under which she was
laboring prevented that. ’

She waited and waited but _the welcome light
of the morning came not and then, when
wearied with her long watc , she went on an-
other tour of discovery, she was annoyed to find
that though there was a door in one of the
walls, there wasn’t anything like a window.

All at once the truth flashed u on her, and
she understood, too, wh the ’a seemed so
strange, she was in an an erground apartment
in some cellar into which the welcome hght of
the day never camel r

When she made the discovery she became for
a time almost frantic. ,

“ Help, help 1” she cried, at the top of her
voice, and with her naked hands she beat against
the stout wooden door.

But she was answered only by dismal echoes,

and, exhausted at last by her fruitless efforts, ‘
she flung herself upon the bed and gave way to

a. flood of hysterical tears.

But when this storm of passion was ended she
became unnaturally calm.

Hardly had she fallen into this state when she
heard the door open.

Instantly she was on her feet. ,

The door closed a in with a sharp “click,”
but she was sure t 1: some one was in the
apartment.

_ Then there came the sound of a match being

ht. .

The feeble gleam appeared, dimly illuminat-
ing the room, then it was applied to alamp
fastened to the wall, and in an instant a flood

of light flamed forth and it revealed to her the ‘ l,

young man who had been in the carria e, and
whom the old gentleman had introduc as his

son!
‘ Asmile of triumph was upon\his ill-looking

features, and the resemblance which his face
bore to some one else’s was SOIVed, and in part

explained the outrage by which she and her

sister had been deprived of their liberty for
although Hermie. was not imprisoned there

 

 

—...-ww

 

-v-«—~«n..-.._‘.;~

,AM ,.._§__'_.“_.{_‘J W _

*who has rendered himself liable to the State

for a stormy scene.

‘ HOMELESS. 1'1

 

with her, she felt Certain that she also had been I
entrapped. ‘

“How do you find yourself this morning?”
the young man asked, as unconcarned as though
he was merely paying a morning call upon an
esteemed acquaintance.

The irl drew herself up to her full hight, :1
Ver uno in her rage, and faced the intruder
wit an expression of withering contempt upon
her beautiful face.

“And you then are the unmanly scoundrel

Prison by committing this outrage?” she ex-
claimed.

Despite the brute’s eflrontery, he winced at
this bitter speech, although he came prepared

“Now , don’t be unreasonable,” he said, after
hesitating for a moment; “ it won’t do you any
good and you might as well accommodate your-
self to circumstances, first as last.”

“ Is that. door unlocked?” de anded the girl,
as imperiously as though she ere a. queen and
the man addressed one of the meanest of her
sub ects. I
, ‘ It is not; it is a spring lock which fastens
of itself when the door is close ,” he answered
sullenly. This calm and lofty tone of contempt
was something for which he had not bargained.

“You have the key i"

I “Who else should have it?” /

“ Give it to me,” and Katherine extended her
hand commandingly. _ _

“Oh, no, not much! that is cutting it alto-
gether too fatl” responded the man msolently.

“ Do you dare to refuse to let me out?”

(L Do
angrily. “ What do ou take me for_anyhowi
didn’t know that l ooked like an idiot, but
suppose I must, or else you wouldn’t say such
ridiculous things. Do you think ( I, have taken
all this trouble to get you here for nothing? Do

on imagine I am going to open the door and ‘
Yet you go free simply because you command me ‘
to do so? ’

“ You will be Wise to obey my command.”

“ Well, 1 shall not do so; you are here and

on will stay until you are reasonable enough‘
{0 come to some understanding with me. I pres;
sume you are puzzled over this aifair and don’t ,
know what to make it. But you needn’t be ‘
alarmed; there isn’t any harm intended—thati
is if you behave yourself; but if you attempt to _
be ugly, why the consequence will be upon your f
own head and you won’t have any one but your—
self to blame. Now, if you willvsto these
tragedy-queen airs and sit down an listen

atiently to me I will explain why you have
been brought here. " 1
. “ It is hardly necessary for you to go to that
trouble for I think I understand all about it," ‘
the firl replied, quietly, with bitter contempt
still her tone. I ,
It was the captor’s turn to. look astonished
now.

“You understand all about it?” be repeated.
“ Well, I?d like to know how that can be.” i

“If you had any brains you would know. I
have recognized you.”

“ Eh?” and he stared dazedly at the girl. 1

She went om—f‘ I have but a single enemyl

you suppose I am a fool?” he cried;

 

in all this wide world, and when a gross outrage
like this abduction is committed, it is not
wonderful I should know who is the guilty
man I”

“How do you know that I am your enemy?
You never saw me before last night.”

“Very true and last night 1 did not recog-
nize you, for the coach was dark, and I did not
notice you particularly; but here, the moment
the light of the lamp il umined your face I re-
cognized you immediately.”

“ I doubt it! I doubt if you could caJl my
name.”

“ Abner Latchford I” replied the girl,
promptly.

The countenance of the man changed 3 a bitter
oath rose to his ii 5 and it was only by a strong
effort that he cho ed it back.

This recognition upset his plans, for he did
not intend to let the girl know who he was until
he had molded her to his wishes.

“I suppose it would only be wasting time to
attempt to persuade you that you have made a
mistake in this matter?”

“It would, most surely. Your father’s fea-
tures are almost exactl y reproduced in yours.
Jonathan Latchford is my enemy; he has done
his best to persecute me ever since he discov-
ered that I was determined to learn the truth in
re ard to the fortune which my father said he
is t for his children, and which I am now cer-
tain your father basely st! do. But, though those
ill-gotten gains made ',. “ rich, et in other
ways he has not prosper-so. Out 0 all his large
fami you are the onl one who is left; death
snatc ed them from im and all his money
could not save them. Was it not a judgment
upon him for the base crime which he commit-
ted when be robbed the widow and the orphans?
And still so blind and headstrong is your father
that, despite the warning which 9 has re-
ceived he persists in keeping on in the path of
guilt. l’erhaps he thinks it is an easy matter for
a man possessed of his wealth and influence to
crush two poor orphan girls, but behind them
stands justice with her resistless sword. Al-

ready has your father felt the weight of the ter- ,

rible blade; let him sto in his career of crime
before the next blow fa s, or else all chance of

repentance in this world and forgiveness in the '

next may at one fell swoop be destroyed.”

Like an inspired prophetess the girl had de« ‘

livered the warning, and Abner. Latchford, as
he gazed upon her, thought he had never be-
held a more-beautiful woman. /

“ Well, I will own up.” he said. after a slight
pause; “I am Abner Latchford; but you are

wrongin one thing, and that is about the old ,

man—he doesn’t know anything at this afiair.”

The girl looked incredulous.

“ Oh, it’s the truth! I’m givin
straight this time, upon my Word 0 honor.

Katherine’s lip curled in scorn at the idea of
the word of honor ofaman who could be guilty
of such a crime as that by which she had been
made to suffer.

“ This is a little racket of my own getting
up,’? be ex lained. “i won’t attempt to deny
that the 01 man means fight, but he hadn’t ex-
actliv ads 11 his mind what little , game to'
wor Now. was in the other room d or.

it to,you '

19

HOMELESS.

 

heard the conversation between you and him.
and being struck with your beauty and pluck. I
made'up my mind to take a hand in the affair,
of course with the idea of making dad. come
down handsomely.”

CHAPTER XI.
ABNER‘s PROPOSAL.

“ YOU are a regular stunner of a girl, and no .

mistakel” the young scion of the house of
Latchford exclaimed, “and that is the reason
why I have taken a fancy to you.”

he look of utter scorn and disgust upon the
girl’s face would have convinced any one less
blinded by egotism and conceit than this stupid
villain of the folly of his conduct and words;
but he only laughed at her expression.

“ You don’t like that, do you? Oh, well, you’ll
get used to it in time."

“ Will I?” and there was a world of meaning
in the tone and look.

“ Why, certainly! We ain’t used to each
other yet, but that will come, you know. We
must have time to get acquainted. Now, you’re
a real splendid girl, I know, and the more I see
of you, the better I like you, and that will be
the way it will work with you, I’ll bet 1”

“ I should not be surprised l” the girlrejoined,
with keen irony.

“ Well that is what I thought. ”

“Oh, lam quite sure of it! The moment I
saw you I felt an instinctive dislike, and now
that I have conversed with you, I am quite sat~
isfled the more I see of you the greater will be
my detestation of you.”

Abner stared open-mouthed at the bold
speaker for a moment. Then he grew pale in
his rising anger.

“See here, you don’t want to talk in that
way to me I” he cried, threateningly. “ I can be
awful ugly when I choose.” '

~ “ I do not doubt it in the least, and I can as—
sure you that you will always appear ugly and
disagreeable to me, whether you try to be so or
no .

Young Latchford was silent for a moment,
meditating how to tame this defiant beauty.

“ h, well, I s’pose I ought not to mind what
on ay,” he retorted at last. “ All you women
ave got to talk just so much, or else you

wouldn’t be able to get along. I don’t mind
your talking so long as you do as I want.”

“ But that is exact] what I will not do I”

cried Katherine, with ery energly. “Do you
think I am a slave to submit tame y to the rule
'0! a master?” \

“ Iflyou know when you are well 011’, you will
redo as say I” he rejoined, menacingly.

* “Dismiss that thought from your mind, for
you will never make a slave of mel”

. “Well, we will see about that; but now, I
say, suppose you just give me a chance to ex-
plain myself. I mean to be fair and honest in
eve thing, if you will only allow me to be.”

, “1811,, yes; this outrage, of which I am a vic-
tim, is a specimen

V I suppose, of how fair and
honest you intend

act.”

[to talk to you unless I got you in my power,
and so force you to listen to me.”

“ I am in your power now, and I am forced to
listen, so proceed and let me understand what
‘ you desire.”

“ Sit down,” he said, bringing her a chair,
“ so we can talk comfortably.”

The girl complied, and the young man went
on to say: ,

“Now, then, you think you have got some
kind of a claim against the old man.”

“ Yes, I am sure I have a claim against him. ‘
‘ He has robbed my sister and myself of our in- .

heritance. Perhaps the whole of his fortune
came from the money which he stole from my
‘ family.”
, “ Even if it was so, it would be a mighty hard
\ thing to prove, you know.”
‘, . “ 1 am not so sure of that!” retorted Katha
1 fine. “ If I have no claim, or, having one, yet
i no chance of succeeding in proving that it is

v just, why is your father so frightened about it?

; Why did he not allow me to go on in my

Week
and feeble way if he was so strong that he

, could afford to laugh at my efforts? Why did

he take so much trouble to crush me? Wh did
he wrest house and home~everything—— rom
my sister and myself. and drive us, homeless
and friendless, out into the cold, cruel world?
It does not look to me as if he could afford to
laugh at the strength of my cause. On the
contrary, it a pears as if his own was so weak
that he faa're to allow me to gain the slightest
headway, knowing that if I succeeded in gain:
ing friends I would not have much d1fliculty in
establishing my rights.” .
This able statement rather uzzledrAbner.
He had no doubt that the gir_ was perfectl
right—that his father had obtained his Wealt
by appropriating what was another’s' but, cov-
ered up as the theft had been, ltd d‘seem ab-
surd to suppose that two penniless girls could

disturb him in his possessions. And yet Abner ,

knew that his “ overnor” was acting as if his
case was decide ly weak, which might be due
to Latchford‘s natural timidity, for the old man
was cautious, and in any contest preferred to
succeed by craft rather than by boldness.
“There’s a deal of money against on,
though,” the young man remarked, “and tell
vou, when it comes to afight of this kind in
New York city, the side that has the most
money wins every time. Now, my idea is Just

 

. with me, half-a-dOZen times. For a man wort '

this:, until about a month ago, when I hap-

armaduke and my dad, I had ‘no idea there

whs such a person as yourself in existence, but ~
when I got on the track I went at it for all it,

was worth. I don’t mind telling you my re-
spected father and myself do not get on as well
as we might. The governor has tut up rust

a million or two he ban 8 on to his money in a
disgusting manner. 0 course like all young

‘ men I have sown some wild oats, and as the

“All is fair in love and war, you know. ‘

After the row you had with the old man, I
‘thought there wouldn’t be an” \se of,mv trying

only son of a millionaire it was my duty to keep
up my reputation, and as the governor didn t
pony up the needful liberally enough, I helped
myself, and the result was a precious row 1
was unlucky enough, too, to get mIXed'up w th
some jolly good fellows who turned out to Le

ned to overhear a conversation between old \

femurs.

1‘_.»..,...n_.‘.~2, 5/“..444.‘ ‘ .. ..

_. ,. ,. "can; L:.,e_..

. we.» lw Asa-m;

e .',_’~.~,.~.Lfi,_ < <

‘ how could I tell that the ‘gang ’ wasn’t on the

HOMELESS. - 19

i. ,

queer characters, and if the governor hadn’t
come to the rescue I would have been sent up
the river to» rusticate at the State’s expense for
a while. But, it wasn’t my fault, youknow;

square? They didn’t seem like ‘crooked’ men,
at all; in fact, a nicer lot of fellows I never got
in with, so there was really no occasion, you
see, for the old man to keep throwmg ‘ forger,’
‘ State-prison bird,’ and similar affectionate
names at me whenever he got his ugly UK. One
thing was lucky; my acquaintance wit these
gentlemen it was that learned me how to work
the little job which captured you so neatly.
Well, the moment I got wind of your matter,
it struck me I might get an ‘under hold on
the old man and throw him. So, being as
well posted as my unreasonable dad in re-
gard to your movements, I knew when you
arrived in the city and was watching for you
when you came to the house, and if that med-
dling sneaking secretarly hadn’t interfered to
let you in, I should, for wanted you to See the
old man, 501 could get posted: I was in the
next room and overheard every word of the
conversation that passed between you two, and
when I learned what the game was, I made up
my mind to take a hand, so the moment you
departed I went for the old man. I tell you he
was all “ broke up I” ~

For a young man who was supposed to be,
Well educated, Abner Latchford used shocking-
ly bad language.

“But I had him, for he was knocked clean of!
his pins when he found that I knew what was

oing on; and he was disgusted, too, to think
but old Marmaduke had tried to double on him
and get you to marry him. Of course his idea
was to get hold of you and then he could bleed
his employer, but as you wouldn’t have it, that
little racket failed. Now the idea came into
my head that it wouldn’t be a bad plan for me
to try my luck; so I made a proposition to dad
to take charge of your case and he was so mor-
tally scared that he jumped at the offer, and I
struck him fora thousand dollars for expenses,
which he shelled out like a little man. , Here is
the whole thing in a nut-shell; I have taken a.
fancy to you, for you are just the kind of a girl ‘
to suit m book: I’ll marry you, fair and
honest, an then, if the governor is inclined to
be ugly and won’t make a fair divy with us, We
will go for him, lively.”

It was hard work for the orphan girl to re-
strain the words of contempt and disgust upon
hf'rdtongue’s end, but she did so and calmly re.

ie : v »

p “Your proposition has taken me so utterly
by surprise that I must have time to think the
matter over.” v ,

“ Why. certainly; that is all right,” his coun-
tenance brightening, for he had expected a
stubborn and defiant answer. “Take all the
time you like: don’t hurry yourself, only the
quicker you make up your mind the quicker we
can bring the old man to terms. "

The girl acted the role. she had assumed so
perfectly—that of a hesitating—haltoinclined-
toyield-consent woman, that the base son of

 

an eWally base father was completely deceived.
“ here is my sister? 18 she safe?”

“Oh, yes; why, ‘I wouldn’t harm a hair of
her head for the world; but of course I am
obliged to keep her in strict confinement until
you make up your mind, but you and I can
malice7 that all right with her after we are mar-
rie .

It was as much as the girl could do to suppress
her feeling of loathing for this dyoung scoundrel,
but she did, and only remarke :

“If any harm came to her it would put a.
stop to any bargain between us, you know.”

“ She will be treated just like an angel!
Don’t you worry about that.”

“ Is she in this house?” 1'

Young Latchford hesitated; he was uncertain
whether to. tell the truth or to lie about the
matter; but, concluding that Katherine might
be more inclined to come to terms it she
thought her sister was near her, he answered
truthfully:

“Yes, she is u' stairs in the garret. (You
needn’t be alarme about her. I will see that
no harm comes to her, nor to you, if you will
agree to do 1131 want; but if you don , I will
not be answerable for the consequences. I’m
desperate! I’m playing for a big stake, and it I
don’t succeed there is no telling what I may do.”

And with this threat he arose.

“ I will decide as soon as possible.”

“There’s a little closet there in which you
will find your breakfast in about ten minutes.”
and he indicated the exact spot. “ I will call in
and see you before dinner—perhaps you will
have your mind made up by that time. Good-

'I‘hen he departed, springing the door to be-
hind him. . -

CHAPTER XII. ‘
A DABING DEED.

Amn he left the apartment Katherine sat
motionless for quite a time, busy in thought.

“What is best for me to do?" she murmured.
“My sister is in the house—upstairs. But is
that the truth? Why not? What object has he
to gain by deceiving me upon that point? Now
fibenb’how can I gain my liberty and also secure

ers. . ' ,

This was a difficult problem to solve, and
while meditating over it a noise in the closet
that young Latchlord had indicated arrested
her attention. _

She opened its door to find upon one of the
shelves 3. tray containing a substantial break-
fast. There was evidently a secret door in the
wall at the back of the closet, through which
the dishes had been assed, although Katherine
was not able, after t e most searching eXamina-

 

" tion, to discover it.

At first she hesitated to partake of the repast
lest some of the viands might be drugzed.
Particularly suspicious was she of the coffee;
but, after carefully tasting of everything she
concluded that ’her suspicions were unfounded,
and so made a hearty meal, and as she ate, her
mind was busy planning, and by the time she
had finished t e meal she had decided what to
do to turn the tables upon her captor and make ',
him a. prisoner instead of her! ‘ _ ‘

It was indeed a bold stroke for libert —-one‘
likelyto spring from the brains of a, arias.

 

   
 
 
   
  
  
 
  
 
 
  
   

    

207

HOMELESS.

 

' desperate man rather than from the wits of ‘h. l
gentle, loving woman. But. Katherine Monteal
was one girl of ten thousand; although gentle
and aflectionate by nature, yet when the occa- l
siOn demanded she could display the courage ,
of a lion as well as the cunning of a fox. ‘

And the moment she resolved upon her plan,
she set about finding means for rendering it suc- l
cessful.

She examined the apartment in the most
thorough manner—floor, walls and ceiling, but
discovered no signs to indicate that she was
under espionage. Then she went to work.

First she stripped the clothes from the bed— l
a couple of sheets, a blanket and a Comforter. l
She tore the sheets into strips four or five inches
wide. and then. tossing the blanket upon the
/' floor by the door, took one of the pillows and 2,

the bolster and arranged them in the bed. cov-
ering them up carefully with the comforter so
that, at a little distance, it looked as if some i
one was lying on the bed with the clothes drawn
up over the head. '

“ Now I must have a weapon in case my sur- ,
prise doesn’t succeed,” she murmured, glancing
thoughtfully around the room.

Her eyes fell upon the little table which stood i
by the wall, and upon whiclrshe had eaten her i
breakfast. I

‘ “The very thing!” she exclaimed, and, re-
moving the breakfast dishes to the closet, she
then u set the table and easily wrenched off one ,
of the egs. This placed her in possession of a
weapon capable of felling a, strong man when‘
wielded by such a. desperate and determined
a? as was this heroine. And why should she

itate to strike for libert even though she
slew the bold, bad man who ad entrapped her?

She was determined not to hesitate; she was
resolved to secure her freedom, no matter who
I stood in the way!

I After having completed her preparations she
’ ' . » , took a chair and placed it by the wall a yard or
, ' i so from the door, and then turning the flame of
the lamp down quite“ low, so that objects within
[the apartment could he ust discerned, she-sat
down in the chair, Sprea [out the blanket upon
her lap and waited. ’
i Slowly assed the hours until in her hot im-
,_ patience s e began to get wearied at the tardy
flight, of time, and caught herself nodding once
in awhile, but with the patience of a second ‘
’Job she waited, watching intently for the ap- E
'prooch of her’ captor.
He came/at last, just as he had said he would. !

She heard his footsteps in the passage without i
' -—heard him insert the key in the lock—heard f
' the bolt spring back, then the door opened and ‘
J, L young ,Latchford entered the apartment.

The door opened into the room, and Kathe-

' rine had chosen a position so that when the door

— was opened she, being behind it, was concealed

r in View. I ‘ .

\ Latcbford unsuspicious of danger, fell into i
, . 1' the trap. fie noticed the dummy on the bed, 1
r wh ch in the dim light, looked astonishingly ‘
. like a human figure.

' “Ohol she has become tired and laid down to ,
‘ rest,” he thought. “ Well, that argues that she”
‘is not much worried, and is «rather disposed to i
. make the best of the‘sitnation. No doubt in;
,time. she will who do as I Wish.” ’ ’
i ' l ‘ ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.w-..............

He swung the door shut, intending by the
noise to waken the girl, and turned toward the
lamp with his back to the captive.

This was the auspicious moment; the girl
darted forward, threw the blanket over his
head, and while he, takbn by surprise, struggled'

in its folds, she caught hold of him from behind

and tripped him up.

Abner went down to the floor all in a heap,
and in falling hit his head sharply against the
side of the wall, partially stunning him for a
moment, and before he could recover his senses,
with the strips torn from the sheet, the brave
girl had bound him, hand and foot, so that he
could not stirl

The victory was complete, and won with far
less trouble than the captive had expected.

Young Latchford had the key of the door in
his hand when surprised, so the girl secured it
at once.

 

CHAPTER 2:111.
LIBERTY!

THE path of freedom was now open, and
Katherine was not slow to avail herself of it.

Putting on her hat and cloak she took the
club in her hand. for other perils that might be
encountered before she would get out of the
house, and unlocking the door, left the dungeon-
like apartment. .

Closin the door carefully behind her, she
put the ey in the lock without, so that the
prisoner might be relieved by his confederates,
after her departure; then she went forward. I,

At the end of the narrow passage in which
she found herself, was a flight of stairs, down
which a dim light shone, so the resolute girl
had no hesitation in shaping her course.

S had left the room amid a smothered tor-
rcn . of curses and threats from the man Whom
she had so cleverly entrapped. and of which she

'had not deigned to take the slightest notice. but

now that the door was closed she could not hear
a sound, so it was plain he would not be able to
alarm the house. ' ‘

Straightforward she went and ascended the
stairs. There was a door at the top with a
small glass window in the upper part, through
which the light came.

“ Suppose the door
murmured, as she placed her hand upon the
latch, but it yielded readily to her touch, and
passing through the doorway she found, herself
about midway of along entry upon the ground
floor of the house. .

There was a door at each end, of this entry,
but from the appearance of the two the adven-

turing girl had no difficulty in deciding which -

was the front door and which was the back one.

In the ent Katherine hesitated for, a mo-
ment—a weig ty question in her mind.

“The house seems deserted ” she soliloquized;
“ I do not hear a sound, and here is “no one to
prevent me from making my escape through
either one of the doors." Her keen 6 es had
detected the fact that the keys of hot ‘
were in the locks. “Now, shall’I escape imme‘
diately, or shall I'go upstairs and tryto dis.
cover Hermia so as to take her with me! But
it I do that, am I not likely to meet some-one
who will tr to prevent us from escaping, for

v though the ouser seems deserted, there may bo_

.M

9“.

is locked?” Katherine '

doors ,

 

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V. m; “kw—4'

... an.

. a 345...}.

 

' F‘s:

‘ at once, from the expression upon her face, but

HOMELESS.

 

a dozen rufilans in it for all I know, and it is
hardly probable that the master-fiend would be ‘
here all alone. But if I make my escape I can
go to the nearest magistrate, make a complaint .
of the ill—treatment we have received, and with
the proper ofllcers come back and relieve Hermie.
That will be by far the best course for me to ‘
ursue. And now, which door? Decidedly the 1
rent one, for that will allow me to reach the
public road immediatelyl” ,
But, having come to this decision, hardly ,
three steps forward had the girl taken, when
the door opened suddenly, and the stout, stern- i
faced woman whom we have described in con— i
nection with Hermie, and who called herself ,
Molly, appeared. I
The surprise was mutual, but if anything the '
woman evinced the most astonishment. She
held an empty plate in her hand, and had evi-
dently just returned from disposing of some
scraps.
“Well, well; here‘s a gel” she cried.
Katherine’s face was pale, but the fires of de-
termination blazed in ier eyes, and from the
position in'which she stood, her right hand,
which grasped the club, being at her side, the
gospel) was concealed amid the folds of her
ess.
That the woman would attempt to prevent
her from leaving the house Katherine surmised

this did not trouble the girl so much as the fear
that there might be men Within the dwelling
whom the woman could bring to her assistance
by raising the cry of alarm, for, although the
other was larger, stouter, and apparently
stronger in every way than the orphan girl,
yet, thanks to the weapon with which she ’was
provided Katherino‘had no fears in regard to
the result of an encounter between the virago
and herself.

And the woman, too, noting the defiant
bearing of the girl, understood at once that she
was compounded of different stuff from her
gentle and timid sister, so she thought it
wise to begin harshly with her.

“ What are you doing here, and how did you
get out of your cellar? You had better go
back at once or it won’t be healthy for youl" i
and in order to emphasize her words, she shook '
her clinched fist.

But Katherine did not quail.

“ Ah, you are a party to this dreadful out-
rage, then?” she cried indignantly. “Are you ,
not ashamed—and do you not fear to look me in E
the face—are you not afraid that I shall make 3
you pay dearly for this crime against the law?” 5

“ W911, you are a bold‘onel” commented the i
woman, amazed. “But I say, you can’t make
anything by putting on any airs, here. We'
know how to take the ugliness out of all rebels, ‘
so it you know what is good for your health .
you will march down-stairs again l”

“Youshameless creature! Do you dare to.
persist in your course of guilt? Icommand you ,
to stand aside and let me pass I” ‘ 1

For answer the‘woman put her arms “ akim- 3
b0” and indulged in a loud laugh,as it to in-‘y
timidate the 'rl. .

4 “Stand as1de and let me pass!” again the?
owhan zirl commanded. /

 

r

 

" You go right down-stairs new, and stop
our nonsense! You won’t make anything by
h1s—you will only bring harsh treatment up-

on yourself. Come, go down-stairs again like a.
good girl, and- I won‘t say anything to any-
body about this mad freak. If your lord and
master, that is to he, were to know of it, why.
the house wouldn’t be big enough to hold him.”,

“My lord and masterl” and the lip of the
girl curled in supreme contempt.

“Well, you know who I mean. Go down-
stairs again quietly or I’ll call out and fetch him
here in a twinkling.”

“ I don’t believe you will; you had better call
some one else." .

“ Oh, no! he’s the man to look after you, and
he wouldn’t like any one else interfering in his
business.”

Katherine‘s heart gavo a. great leap; she in—
ferred from this that there were no other men
about the house!

“ You will not be able to make him hear you!”

“ Wh not?” asked the woman, amazed at
the con dent tone.

“Because he is down in the cellar bound and.
gagged; he has taken my place and is now the
captive.” ',

‘Molly ” stared hard at the other for a mo-
ment; the statement seemed almost incredible.

“I tell you this so that you may go down
and release him after I depart,” Katherine con~
tinued. “And it you are wise ,you will stand
aside and let me go in peace. I do not wish to
harm you butI am determined to regain my
liberty, no matter how great the cost l”

The woman began to be a little alarmed, the
determination displayed by the girl was having
its eifect. .

“ Give over this foolish notion or I’ll cry out
and alarm the house!” she threatened. ‘If I
can’t stop you the men can, but I reckon; you I
won’t pass me without my spoiling that pretty"
face of yours.”

“ You cannot summon assistance, for you
know very well that there are no ,men in the
house, with the exception of the vile wretch
whom I have imprisoned in the cellar.”

“Whether I am alone or not you sha’n’t
passl” cried Molly, with dogged determina-

on. i '

“I will go free: and, what is more-I shall u
soon return with the oflicers and deliver you
and our vile associates to justice.”

“ b, you will, will youll I see I’ll have to
take hold of on and shake this nonsense out
of youl" crie the woman, fiercely, determined
to put a stop to this talk and decide the ques-
tion of supremacy at once. 7 I ,,

The moment the other commenced to advance
the orphan girl raised her club menacingly, and
Molly came to an abru t halt, somewhat dis-
mayed at the unexpecte sight.

“ Ahl you’ve got a club, have you?”

“Yes and now what chance do you think

you w‘ have in trying to stop real”
I ‘f If Em hit me one good b owvwith that you
would 'll mel” , '

"Stand out of my way then and yourwo'n’t ’
run any risk I” ’ . ,
“Hang me if I don’t step you!” cried the

1 woman. and taking deliberate aim she flung the~ .

 

 

 

  

 

‘22

HOMELESS.

 

plate at Katherine’s head, but the missile missed I
V he mark by an inch, and, whizzing past the i
girl’s head, was shattered into a. hundred pieces
at the end of the assage. 1

With all her lood in a flame, Katherine
swung the table-leg in the air, and, as the wo—

man attempted to sieze her, dealt her a heavy 

low.

Molly attempted to ward off the strokeb
raisin her arm, but she was notrquite quic
enoug , and the club struck both arm and head, .

eliciting a howl of mingled rage and pain, but, l

take the man, for ‘I will fix it so that there
won’t be any suspicion attached to either you
or me. Let me alone for thatl I’m no novice
in the business, but have been working this
crooked stuff off for the last twenty years.”
Hermie. looked up, amazemen written in
every line of her face. She could not make
head or tail of what the woman had been say-

} ing, except that she was speaking about their
I

being engaged in some wrong-doing, but of
what nature, she hadn’t any idea.
Molly saw by the girl’s face that she did

in a moment, recovering herself, with a my not understand, and she burst into a loud laugh.

like a wild beast, mad with rage, the she Fur ]

“Bless your dear little innocent heart! You

sprung again at the M, when Katherine dea t ain’t up to snuff, are you? Well, it don’t make

her a blow u n the end with the club, so vio-
lent, that it elled the woman upon the instant.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
mum anoxs UP cocnaom.

To return now to the younger sister.

She worked faithfully at the task of copying
the two letters until about twelve o’clock, when
she was disturbed by the entrance of the wo«

man.

“Just dro ped in to see how you was a—get-
ting along, cary,” she observed, as she entered,
taking care as usual to lock the door after her.

“I have finished quite a. number," and she
pointed to the copies of the letters lying upon
the table by‘the desk. '

Hermie had moved the table over to the win-
dow, so that as she worked she could command
a View of the country without. Limited and
desolate enough, too, it appeared, for there was
nothing to be seen but a little patch of. meadow
land and a great dreary wood. A Wilder spot
the girl’s eyes had hardly ever looked upon.

And as her busy pen had traversed the surface
of the paper she had calculated upon the proba-
bility of some unknown knight emerging from
the depths of the gloomy wood intent upon res-
cuing fair damsels in distress, but the old forest
was so desolate that not even a bird seemed to
be stirring within it, let alone a human.

“ I am afraid I‘ should wait and pine here for
a long time before any gallant comes from that

loomy forest ready to do battle for me,” she
ad murmured, just before the woman ap-
peared.

“Beautiful, beautiful 1” Molly exclaimed, as
she took up the co ies and examined them with
a critical eye. “ hey couldn’t be better donel‘
Why they are all as much alike as two peas—-
gas alike as though printed from a copper-plate!
Ah, my dear, 'you are_a treasure, and now for
v the first time in your life you have got a chance
H to use our wonderful skill to advantage.

Be go and on shall be treated like a
queen. You 5 all » have all that money
can bu . You are a beautiful girl! Ohl
wouldnt you look well in a nice silk
dress, trimmed w1th rich old lace and with
lenty of costly diamonds to set off your rare
utyl And you shall have them all, dear, if
Em Will stay with me and do as I say. And
one won't be any risk for you, either. We

willhave other people to do the passing, and
if anything should happen to go wrong, and the
trick is discovered, why. all they can do is to

any difference: perhaps it is just as well that

"you shouldn’t 'know; but I wouldn’t have be-’

lieved that there was such a greeny as you are
in the world. You must know what this piece
of paper is?” and she took out a check and laid
it before the girl.
“Oh, yes, ma’am, it is a. bank check.”
“And when you present it at the bank they
give you money for it.”
“ Yes, madam, I understand that.”
“ Well, that is enough for you to know, so we
, won’t go into any particulars. Here. try your
1 skill at imitating this handwriting; it’s a dim-
oult one,” and she spread the check out 0 re-
; fully before the girl, and then placed a. blank
1 one, but on the same bank and. exactly similar
l in every way, by its side.
i “ ‘ Pay to Leonardo Vinci, or order, the sum of
[ forty-five dollars,’ ” said the girl, reading the in-
l scri tion upon the desk; “ signed, ‘Jay Gould.’ ”
“ es; new write, ‘Pey to Leonardo Vinci, or
I order, the sum of ’——let me see~well, it might as
well be a good haul this time—‘ the sum of ten.
thousand and fifty dollars,’ and be very careful
about the signature: number the check the
same as the other, and put on the same date.”
The girl executed the task very slowly this
. time. for some strange ideas were in her mind;

:5.

she could hardly bring herself to believe that -
a

,the suspicion which (1 crept into- her brain
f was true, and yet, what else could be the reason
for these mysterious proceedings?
“Good! Splendid l” exclaimed Molly, when
the check was drawn out. “ But let me try my
j glass upon itl” And then, as carefully as on
I the greceding occasion, she examined the writ—
ing y the aid of the lens. . .
I ‘The sharpest paying—teller couldn’t tell it
', from the origmal,’ she murmured. -
I Then she drew out the first check which the
' girl had exocuted and placed it on the desk,
‘ face downward, and the original from which it
,' was copied, face upward by its side. The other
r two checks, the copy and t e original, she also
, arranged in the same way.
I “ Now, across the back of this first one write
‘ the signature, W. H. Vanderbilt, and indorse
the other in the same way with Jay Goild’s
name and be very careful indeed to get them
correct, for a blunder here would upset the
whole business.” » -

The single word “indorse” opened the girl’s
eyes, and convinced her that her suspicions were
correct. She knew that checks had to be it»
dorsed before being cashed. and in her igno-
rance of business supposed that neither one at

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, HOMELESS. . 23

 

these two were of any value until the name was
Written on the back, not understanding that
this indorsement was to enable the party, in
whose favor the check was drawn to get the
money without having to be identified.

“Let me see; when I write the names, all Mr.

‘ Vinci will have to do is to go to the bank and

get the money 9” Hermie. asked. pausing with
the pen point to the paper, and looking up with
such an innocent air that even the cold, case-
hardeued criminal was deceived.

“ Yes, deary; Leonardo.Vinci is a painter—
an artist. you know; and Mr. Vanderbilt and
Mr. Gould have each bought one of his paintings.
and these checks are to pay for them, and after
he gets the money on these checks, we are going
to be married, deary, and then we will have
you come and live with us. We will cross the
water and on shall See all the sights in foreign
parts, and 6 treated just like a princess I’

“But, there is a great difference between the
sums set down in the original checks and those
written on the copies.”

“Oh, that’s. all right; both of the gentlemen

- Were so pleased with the paintings that they

told my beautiful boy to draw whatever sums
he wanted,” responded the woman in the most
careless off—hand way, trusting to the girl’s in-

nocence to receive the story without question.

“Then, when these two checks that Ihave
drawn are presented at the bank they will be

,paid without question?”

“Of course they will! Why both the men

‘would be willing to swear that the signatures

were written by their own hands; and, Omy

h
we’ll make a haul on thgse documents—don’t
you be afraid about that!

With a quick motion, Hermie. seized the two
forged checks and tore them into a dozen pieces,
for now she understood the base work that was
expected of her, and her countenance flamed

. With indignation as, with firm—set lips and flash-

. mieies, she looked up into the woman’s face.

. Written and tore them into atoms.

, ‘clinc

owl of rage came from the lips of the

’ other, and she wouldhave thrown herself upon

Hermie, and torn the recious checks from her
hands, had not the 'r been so quick.
“Oh, you wretch Why did you do that?”

“ Do you think you can make a forger of me,

(vile woman?”

. “Oh, you deceitful hussyl There’s thousands
and thousands of dollars gone, and we could

ave collared them just as easy as anythingl”
groaned the woman in utter disgust.

“And these vile lies!” and with the word
Hermie seized upon the letters which she ‘hsd
“ Now they
are destroyedl Oh, what an awful woman you
must be ‘to lend yourself to such fearful

. crimes l”

“And what a little fool you are to dare to
attempt to brave me, and you here helpless in
my werl” hissed the woman shaking her

good fist with savage ma ice right in
ermia’s face, but the gentle, humble girl, for
once in her life, had got her temper up, and
now in her rage looked more like her superb
elder sister than she had ever done before.
“ 'You may kill me if you like 1” she cried, not

flinching in the least. from the rage of the

 

infuriated woman. " 1 don’t care what becomes
of mel I would rather die than live and act as

our creature and follow your footsteps in a
life of crime l” »

“Live? Well, you shall live, but such a life
as will make you curse every hour of your
miserable existence, and wish for death as a
welcome release I”

“You cannot frighten me with your threats,
ou miserable creature!" Hermie. retorted.
‘Just reflect upon what your fate will surel

be if you keep on in this life of crime. ,Thin
of the time when on will be dragged before a.
judge to answer or your misdeeds. and then
perhaps be sent to prison for the rest of your
natural existence."

“ Bahl a prison has no terrors for mel I have
done my time in .the stone jug, and am ready
to try it again if the lunder offered is big
enough to warrant the risk; but I tell you. girl,
I pity you.
I am going to break you down?”

“No,” replied the girl proudly, and with no
fear in her/face, although the woman was glar-
ing at her like a fiend.

“ You are the only one I have ever found who
can do the work I want to my satisfaction, and
I am determined that you shall not escape me.
I shall starve you into submission. Not a morsel
of food nor a swallow of water shall pass your
lips until you a ee to do my will. You may
hold out for a ay or two, but I guess when
you feel hunger and thirst tearing at your
Vitals you will be glad enough to yield l”

“ Never! I will die firstl”

“A week will decide that question, but you’ll
give in sure. Good-by, ducky,” and then this
s e dragon departed. .

 

CHAPTER XV.
A Pnnrnous VENTURE.

IT was remarkable—the change which’_ had
come over Hermie. Instead of yielding to the
danger/which confronted her, she was rising to
confront it.

“I must—I will escapel" she cried, springing

to her feet and glaring around her with dis
tended eyes. Then she ran to the door and
listened; the footsteps of the woman were
dying away in the distance as she descended
the creaky stairs.

Cautiously the girl tried the strength of the
door; but it was good solid
securely locked from the outside, it was evident
that no egress could be had in that direction.

Then she hastened to the window; itwas‘ a
small casement, with an up er and lower sash;
the upper one was immova la; the lower-Was
clearly intended to be used, but it had been
nailed down. And even if she could open the
windogv it was about twenty-five feet from the
groun . '

“And where will I procure e ladder, not
haying the wings of a 1rd?” she exclaimed,
(les ndently. '

or eyes fell upon the bed. and in an instant
stories‘which she had read of people descendin
from upper windows by means of sheets an
bed~clot es, torn into strips and knotted
gather to make a to , flashed into her mind.

Do you know—can you guess how

wood, and being '

“There is my lad er. test enouzhl’l she cried, ' V

 

 

 

{/1 I

 

‘v quized her nimble fingers were working busily.

‘ “ .,¢}‘.W‘It00htenowtoremedytheerroay A]!

23 HOMELESS.

 

her tone’ now full of joy.
to at the window open.”
he examined it carefully: the blood of an in-
ventor was in her veins, and on this occasion
the daughter proved to be worthy of her sire.‘ '
Although the window was securely fastened

l/‘Vfitlill heavy nails driven in above the lower
sas ,

yet the strips of wood which held the sash
itself in place were fastened with small nails,
and by means of almost any tool—the blade of
a strong knife, or a common nail even—the
stxfips could be pried from their places.
either knife nor nail had the girl, but sud-

denly she thought of that now indispensable
article to a lady’s toilet, a button-hook. She
had hers in her pocket, and immediately went
to work upon the window.
» A few minutes’ effort proved that she would
have no difficulty in removing the sash, so she
suspended work there to prepare the ladder.

-‘ Two sheets, which are about two yards

‘ long, torn in two, lengthways, and knotted to- '
~gether, will surely be ro

enough and stron

to support me. It’s luc that I am a lighfi
weight. If I were tall an stout now, I should
be afraid to trust myself to this fragile stuff,
for it is old and weak. It is lucky the bedstead
is near the window so that I can tie the end of
the rope to it.” And while she thus solilo-

Soon the rope was nished; then she tied it to
the bedstead, removed the sash and peered
cautiously out from the window, anxious to see
if anybod was near at hand who might inter-
fere with er project.

Not a soul was in sight, not a sound broke
upon the stillness.

’ The girl stood by the window a moment, as if
deliberating. .

“Is it wise,” she thought, “ to risk my life by
trusting tO’thiS old and half~rotten stuff? Is it
wise to make the attempt now, instead of wait-
ing until darkness comes on? ‘Yes,’ I think is
the answer to both questions. The rope, surely,
will support my light form; and if I wait
something may interfere With my plans. 1‘:
ma be removad from this room or some other
an oreseen accident may occur. No! something
tells me it must be now or never!” V

Then to her mind came what the woman had
told her.

“The dogs!” she murmured, and shexleaned
out of the window with a frightened, anxious
look upon her face.

“ it would be horrible after I reached. the
ground to have such fierce brutes spring upon

me!

But not the slightest sign of life could she
discover, either beast or human. The place and
the neighborhood seemed utterly deserted;

‘.‘ I must risk it 1” she said at last, desperately.

And with a brief prayer, committing herself
to the protection of that kind Heaven which :
heretofore had been so cod to her, she lowered
the ‘rope out of the win ow, and passing through .
the casement, descended hand over hand like an ‘
old salt; but when she came to the end of the
rope she discovered, to her dismay, that she
had made amistake in her calculation, and thai
it did not reach within eight or ten feet of the

“The only puzzle Is I

she could do was to drop, and she did. The

l shock threw her forward upon er hands and
knees, and though it jarred her considerably,
yet she escaried without injlug.

l “ Now, if can only succee in getting away
from the house without attracting notice,” were

‘ her thoughts as she rose to her feet.

The window from which she had descended
was in the rear of the house, and was the only
one in the house so situated' hence the descent
could not have been noticed by any one within
1 the dwelling.

With fear and trembling she went to the cor-
ner of the building, turning to her right, and
peered around it.

The coast was clear; no one was in sight, and
in plain view was the road, lonely and desolate
enough, and which in a very short space lost
itself in the gloomy wood. ‘

“ Oh, if I could only reach the trees without
being observed I would be safe 1" she murmured.

I Fortune seemed to favor. for on the side of

the house which she had chosen all the window

‘ blinds were closed, and as they were regular,

heavy shutters, they eflectually cut oi! the view
from the inside.

With timid, noiseless steps Hermie now hur-
ried toward the road.

Two dangers only were to be feared: some
one in the house might notice her as she passed
by the front, and. er terrible fear the dogs,
mi ht be lurking in the neighborh .

he was not so afraid of the people in the
house as she was of the dogs. It might be pos-
sible no one was at home but the woman, and if
so, Hermia felt satisfied that, with a. fair start,
she could easily outrun her.

But the dogs! Of all things in this world the
girl most dreaded a savage dog: So, as she
went along, her eyes fell upon a stick about a
yard long lying upon the ground; gleeftu sh
seized upon it as an offensive weapon. ' ’

She reached the front corner of the house,
hler 323' that all the blinds there were also
c ose

The chances were good now that she could
reach the-road without being observed, and as
for the animals, there were no indications that
an were in the uni hborhood.

he stepped bold forward, but not five
aces had 3 e gone w en, with a fierce growl, a
uge yellow dog rose from a nest which he had
occupied in a cluster of bushes by the sidebf
the path leading to the road.

For a. moment the girl’s heart seemed to stand
still with fright. The beast was a. vicious-look—
ing fellow who evidently meant mischief,‘ for

thing but a friendly manner.

To run of coursewas useless. To use the
itick might be equally so, and also alarm the

ouse. , -

Then to her mind came the tales of solitary
travelers suddenly encountering wild beastsi
and who had compelled monarc s of £1531 an
jungle to abandon the road to them y mpilly
staring the animal out of countenance. Wh e
having no faith in these stories, yet under the
circumstances she felt that it would be far better

 

to face the do: boldly than to retreat in fear.

he was displaying his keen, white teeth in any- .

- sea—2.22 -

I farms}... . JV; 's

 

looked carefully around it. and discovered to '

my w :x

 

 

 

l

HOMELESS.

—

 

And so with a gentle, " Good-dog, nice dog-
gie," she advanced upon him.

The animal evidently did not understand this .

and was suspicious of the stick which the girl
possessed, so, as the r1 advanced. he moved

around to one side, sti l growlin and betraying 1

adecided intention to attack 1: e girl upon a
favorable opportunity.

Hermia, not daring to turn her back upon the i

rute, was forced to turn around and retreat
backward toward the road, brandishing the
stick, and changing her friendly salutation of
“good doggie,” into. “Don’t you dare to come
near me, you nasty brute or I’ll hit
this stickl” which threat he seemed under-
stand well enough: he evidently had a whole-
lome dread of a cudgel; but when he saw his
prey gradually approaching the road, gettin
_0ut_of his reach, be rushed forward, circle
rapidly around the girl, and at last sprung di-
rectly at her.

For a wonder, des ' e the dreadful fear which
made her fairly sick t heart, Hermie. remind
her presence of mind, and as the brute leaped
forward she dealt him a. heavy blow on the
head with the stick.

As luck would have it, the end of the stick ‘
ltruck the dog in the eye and with a terrible
bowl of pain he rolled over and over rubbing ,
the wound with his front paws. |

But—sore mishap! The force of the blow i
broke the stick in two and neither piece was
long enough to be of any service. i

There were lent of stones about, though
and Hermie ast' y secured a couple and
$351.1 backed toward the road as fast as pos«
I e.

A few seconds and the dog we again after

\

her, savage with rage and pain.

 

CHAPTER XVL
TIMELY AID.

“ on, if I only had a knife or a pistol, you
brutel” the girl cried, as the now infuriated
beast rushed upo her, inspired with new cour-.
age upon per ving that the stick had disap-‘
peared.

V Just as he was crouching for a spring, while

Hermie, disarmed, stoou in mortal terror, but
ready with the upraised stone to strike, the
door of the; house opened suddenly and Kathe-
rine came rushing out. the effective club, which ,
Iliaddalready done. such good service, in her_
an _
After beating down the woman, as related in .
a previous chapter, Katherine had 1i htly'
sprung over her and hurried forth, coming rom .
t e house just in time to be of the utmost ser-
vice to her sister. ‘ '
Perceiving the crouching deg, and her sister,
standing like a statue, she comprehended all,
and with loud cries rushed upon the dog. The
to, amazed at this attack in the rear, wheel- .
ed around to meet the new danger, and as
therine ran toward him he sprun at her, i
but as the dog rose in the air she dea t him a
ow that fairly made the brute’a skull ring.
The force of the blow beat him down to the
ound, and before he could recover from the
a ock. the brave Bill Rave hini‘ halts-dozen

\

\'r

\

on with f

more strokes upon the head and back which ren-
dered him is defeated and disgraced dog.

‘ In another moment, the two orphans were in
, each other’s arms, shedding joyful tears at the

unexpected meeting.
I didn’t know what had

“Oh, Katherine

, become of youl”

‘ “Nor I, what had befallen you, although I
was assured that you was safe. But come! We

mustn’t waste time in talking; we must get

away from here at once, for there is no know-

ing who maybe in the house. although I have

an idea no one is there but Abner Latchford and

the old woman, both of whom I have had to

fight 'ust like a man."

“ A ner Latchfordl”

“ Yes, I will explain as we hurry alongl”

So, away the two sisters went.

Straight through the timber the road ran; it
was nothing more than a wood-path, about a
quarter of a mile long from the main road. out
of which it came, to the house where it ended.

When the reached the broad, and evidently
well-travele highway, the fugitives breathed
more freely, althou h at first, so utterly igno-
rant were they of t e locality that they were in
doubt whether to turn .to the right or the left.

“ Let us go to the right," suggested Kathe-
rine; “ we always use our right hand more than
our left, you know; anyway, neither one will
be likely to carry us back to that miserable Old >
housel” .

So, turnin to the right, the two trudged
along the hi way.

It'was a lucky selection as it happened, for
after the woman had recovered from the effects
of the violent blows of the table le , sbe
hurried to the cellar, released young Latc ford,
and then, swearing vengeance, the two accom-
panied by the dog, whose battered head plainly!
showed that he too had felt the prowess of the
courageous girl—they started in pursuit, deter-
mined to reca ture ‘ e fugitives at all hazards!

But when t ey came to the main road they
turned to the left, for New York lay in that
direction.

For a couple of miles the two girls walked
along before they encountered any one, and
durin this time each sister related to the other
all that had occurred since they had been sepa-
rated” The first person they encountered was
an aged Irishman, driving a cow. .

“We must in hire of this man and find .out
where we are,” atherine observed when she ‘
saw the man approaching. ' ‘

“ Good—day; sir! How far is it to New York?”
asked Katherine, as the man came up to them.

“New York, is it?” . «

“Yes, sir."

. “ Mebble it’s twenty miles.” . '

“ Ohl’” exclaimed ermia, astonished that
they were so near, for she had an idea that they
were away off in the wilderness.

“ Which is thenearest wav to get there?"

“Is it walkln you mane?

“Well, to we k, or to go by any conveyance,
if there are stages or cars handy.’ ,

“ If you walk, you want to turn right ’round
and go back, for as long as you ks on this .
rosdyand in this direction, you’ll in Albany 
afore ye will New York’f ., A, - *

1

 

 

 

2t,

HOMELESS.

 

“ Yes but we don’t want to walk if we can I

hel it.”
‘Prr

and take the furst turn to the right; that will
bring ye to the river, where ye’ll get a boat for
the city. ”

“That is what we want l”
claimed. Then she thanked the man and again
the two or hans went on their way. ,

They fol owed the directions, and in about

' half an hour found themselves in the neighbor-
hood of the leasant section of country so well-
known to ew Yorkers as Closter landing, on
the west shore of the Hudson. From a. little
boy, playing in the outskirts of the village as
they entered it, they ascertained the name of
the town and also procured the information
that they could get a boat for New York,

' “almost an time.”

Luckil therine still had the change from

ye like boat riding, kape on as ye are,

Katherine ex- ‘

"Oh, my dears, do you know what time you
7 will get into the city?’ she exclaimed.

The girls answered that they did not, but
added that they expected it would be late.

“About one o’clock. and if you haven’t any
friends to meet you, or no place to go, what on
earth will you do at such an hour?”

This was something the orphans could not an-

 

i

swer. ,

“ You’ll have to go to a hotel: you can’t walk
the streets until morning, because you would
E be liable to be arrested by the police as sus‘
I picious characters.”

i Then an idea seemed to occur to the woman,
, and she added:
I

 

“I tell you What you can do—you can come

V with me and stop until morning. I am going
1 to the house of a. relative who only lives a
i few blocks from the pier where the boat lands.
She always has a couple of spare rooms ready

3 ten-do ar note in her pocket, just as she had ;‘ and will be glad to be of assistance to you, for
received it from the hotel-keeper, so she was not i she is a very good-heartedaoman, and will not
without funds. , charge you anything, either. I have a night—
They went straight to the landing and from ‘ key so we can get in without rousing the house,
asurly sort of a man, lounging on the wharf, ‘ as i come to the city on business regularly.
they obtained the information that a New York  You can have a good night’s rest, a breakfast
boat would be along pretty soon. i in the morning, and then go where you like.”
“Take the first boat,” the man added, as he , The ofller was made so good-naturedly that
sauntered away, and relying implicitly u on i the girls, without a suspicion of evil, gladly no-
this information brought the girls into trou 1e, i cepted it, and when they arrived in the city

    

for fate, still being in acapricious mood, deigned
to further persecute the innocent wanderers.

The first boat that came along was not the
boat for the city, but on the contrary was a
frei ht craft, bound up the river, which stopped
at loster to land some goods.

In blissful ignorance of /this fact the girls
went on board and not until the steamer had got
out into the stream did Katherine discover that
all was not right, and inquiry speedily re-
vealed the truth, but the anxiety of the orphans
was relieved by the intelligence, that at the
next landing, they could go on shore and take
the other boat of the line which would be along
about nine o’clock that evening. '

Satisfied with this and never thinking at what
an unseeml hour they would arrive in the
city by taking the nine o’clock boat, the girls
resigned themselves to .the situation.

At the next landing they got off, took advan-
tage of the wait to procure some refreshménts,
and then, when the little steamer came along,
wanton board, taking care this time to ascer-
tain they were on theright boat. i

There were few passengers on board; this
boat like the other being chiefly devoted to

, freight, and that was the reason why it er-

and looked at the lonesome streets of down
town, deserted at this hour, glad were they
,I that they had a place to which to go.

‘ CHAPTER XVII.
AN UNPLEASANT REVELATION. ,
IT was after one o’clock when the boat made
fast to the dock. The city, like a mighty giant,
was sleeping soundly, recuperating for the toils
‘ of the morrow. '
“it is only a little ways, girls,” the woman
said, as she conducted them through the silent
streets now as quiet as though all the people in
great Gotham were dead and buried.
‘ The woman led them through an evil—smell-
‘,in , had-looking locality which appeared re-
lpu ive even when the worst of its features

were disguised by the kindly mantle of dark-

ess. ’

“My friend is in the market line and that is
the reason she lives down in this neighborhood;
’tain’t quite as nice as Fifth avanue, but nobody
but decent honest peo le live here.” '

Both girls were so chest and unsuspecting
that they did not dream of doubting this state-

, ment. but after the got into the narrow
, streets, so dark an re ulsive, the were

 

rived in 17119 City Ener'midnighl'u 30 17th “753 alarmed every now and t en b v evil- ooking
cargo of fruits and vegetables would be in the ; faces, peering at them from sha owy corners,

cit for the morning market.
here was only one female passenger on board
,besides the orphans—a stout, rather coarse-fea- ‘
tured woman, dressed plainly and looking like I
i some farmer’s wife. , v
She had a pleasant way with her, despite her
i “ill looks, and getting into a. conversation with
the girls in an ingenious way, wormed out of
them the intelligence—without appearing to do
Io,:that they were strangers in the city and did
fiefipect any one to meet them when theyl

where the owners of the faces lurked, just like

so many beasts of prey, lying in wait for

victims. , i '
The orphans drew closer to each other, and a.

. feeling of terror took possession of them. This

was an aspect of city life which they had never
before witnessed.

The woman stopped at last at the door of a
dingy old brick house, in the lower part of
which was a liquor store, displaying upon its
front a sign which read:- . .

  

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

1i

2‘:

sweeten 7",,

’«

  

j. if? 

so: as

    
   
      
  

(- a 3;...» u: MA.-
Fo . . .

344-.»

. , 1, Fags“: < :5

M; m 1;

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.



“1.35 #1:.

 

 

 

 

HOMELESS.  9?

 

THE OLD DISTILLERY.

BEST OF WINES AND LIQUORS BOLD HERE. FREE
CONCERT AND FREE LUNCH EVERY NIGHT.

The woman, whose keen eyes Were ever on
the watch, noticed that the girls looked askance
at the display of bottles in the windows, and so
she hurried them into the house as soon as
possible.

“ That is a rent wholesale place, my dears;
it supplies all t e foreign steamers.”

An so it did, with sailors maddened with
bad liquor, who were worthless or duty until
they had been a day or two at sea and had had
time to work oi? the effects ofthe poison.

All was dark within the house, but the we-
man, instructing the girls to follow, conducted
them to a small room in the rear of the house
on the second floor.

There she lit the gas, which only burnt with
a dim, uncertain light, as though the pipes were
out of order.

The room was Plainlv furnished, but there
was a good, com ortable-looking bed, which,
after the exciti g and fatiguing experience that
the sisters hud~.lately passed through, seemed
particularly inviting.

“There now, ladies, I won’t stop to talk and
so keep you up, for yomleok—‘th tired out.
There’s a nice bed for you, and the quicker you
get into it the better. You see, there’s a key in
the door and also a stout bolt on it, so you can
fasten yourselves in and be as snug as can be
without fear that any one will disturb you. it
know what it is to sles in a strange house and
in‘ a strange bed, an when I’m away from
home I always feel more comfortable if I Can
lock and bolt myself in my room. Good-night.”
And then the woman retired.

The orphans felt strangely out of sorts, for
this was not the kind of lodging-place they
would have icked out of their own free will.

“It is on y for one night, anyway 1” Kath-
erine consoled her sister, and carefully examin-
ing the apartment to be sure that there wasn’t
any one concealed in it, and adjusting the fas-
tening of the door, they undressed, went to bed
and in ten minutes were soundly asleep, so
tired were they, locked in each other’s arms.

And so soundly did they sleep that they
rocked not of the secret door in the wall—the
old panel game—through which two skulkin
figures gained admittance to their room, an
after prowling cautiously about it for a few min-
gtes, retreated noiselessly through the secret

oor. ~

The sun was high in the heavens when, with
a start, the sisters awoke at the same moment.

“ Oh, Katherine, we have overslept ourselves;'

it must be very late 1” exclaimed Hermia. ,
“No, no, the sun has not been long up, I
ess. ‘ ,

They arose and looked for their clothes,
which when they had undressed before going
to be , they had placed on a chair near at
hand, but not a. single thing could they find.
Atll lg? disappeared, even to their shoes and
8 oc l

Theyfioked at each other in amazement.

“I am sure we put our clothes on these

Achairs.” Katherine declared. . ‘

\

Hermie flew to the door, but neither bolt nor
key had been touched.

“ The door is fastened, just as we left it 1”

Then a closet, with the door ajar, at the other
end of the room, attracted her attention.

“Perhaps we put our things in the closet,”
she suggested.

An examination was made.
were all the necessary articles of dress, for the
two girls, including slippers and stookin gs, made
of coarse and common material, but not asingle

thing there which the girls could recognize as ‘

their own!

“Well, 1 an pose we will have to put these
things on,” atherine remarked, surveying
them, though with great repugnance. ‘ We
cannot stay the way we are. ” ‘

“ Oh, Katherine, what does it all mean?"

“Hermia, dear, I fear we have fallen into
some terrible snare. Oh, what a dreadful
place New York is] There are people here
worse than savages. But let us dress ourselves
and be prepared to meet whatever fate is in
store for us. It is plain that we have’been
robbed of our clothes and what other mischief
is intended, it is impossible to say; but I don’t
see how any one can harm us, for we are not in
a wilderness, and if any one molestsul ourcries
will surely bring assistance.”

With anxious hearts the organs at on the
garments which fitted them lerah y well, a1;
though the slippers were rather large.

Then they went to the window and looked
out, but the view was barred b an old build-
ing, apparently an unoccupied warehouse,
which stood close to the window.

“ Not a. very invitingprospect,” Katherine re~
marked.

“Not veryl” responded a voice, and the

man, who had so treacherously conducted them
into this mysterious house, standing in the cen-
ter of the apartment. ‘
The sisters involuntarily glanced toward the
‘ door and perceiving that it had not been dis-
turbed» understood that there must be some
secret way of entering the room. The mysteri-
ous disappearance of their clothing was 'now
explained. V
‘Well, how did you sleep?” asked the wo-
man helping herself to a chair, and then, with-

r “ You'll be quite comfortable here, I guess.

did as you told me. I sold your clothes and
got twelve dollars for them and that is doing
very well. Mike says he will keep you a

make for yourselves, so ’you ought to be able to
do pretty well.” . .

‘ What do you mean, madam?” exclaimed
Who gave on authority to do anything of the
stealin , and that the law will hold you an-
swer-ab 9?.” ’ .

“Well, well, here’s a precious row! You

around Without any home or friends. You
have been in trouble, you know on have! and

 

you were coming to the city hide away:

out waiting for an answer, she went on.‘

Katherine, “ and how dare you sell our clothes?

 

In the closet v

orphans, turning in surprise, beheld the wo— ‘

month for that and Will allow you all you can ,

kind? Dong: you know that it is the same as ‘

are talking mighty big for a gal, wandering"

 

 

28.

HOMELESS.

 

Now you have got anice place here, for Mike
wanted two just such girls as you are.”

“ What does he want us for?” cried Kath-
erine amazed.

“Why, to hand round beer and drinks to his
customers. and to sing in the concert if you
have any talent in that way. Mike, you know,
keeps the saloon down-stairs, and two of the

'rls ran off with some sailors last week and I

ave been on the look-out for a couple more to
fill their places ever since, and when I met you
on the boat last night I spotted you instantly.
I knew that you had been up to some mischief
and were running away, so I thought you
might as well come here as to go anywhere’s
else. Mind you! I don’t ask you any questions.
It’s none'of my busine>s, or anybody else’s for
that matter, and while you are here you can
keep yourselves just as select as any shop—girls in
this town. All you have to do is to wait on the
customers and be civil to them and if you don’t

I choose to be familiar with any of them, that is

' the woman, roughly.

your business, and Mike will see that you are
not molested, by an one. It is a nice pleasant
place and you mig t go further and fare a.
great deal worse.”

.“ Madam, we will trouble you to return our
c othes immediately 1” Katherine exclaimed.
“There isn‘t money enough in the world to
hire us to stay here. You have made a mis-
take; we are not the kind of girls you take us
for at all. a
breeding, and have no reason to be afraid of
any one or ashamed of anything; therefore you
must let us depart in peace.” ‘

“ Oh no, that isn’t to be thought of l” retorted
“You made a bargain
with me last night on the boat to come here and
be beer—girls and you can’t back out now I” _

“ Oh, what. a shameful story!” Hermla cried.

“ Is it? Well, I am read to swear to it in a
justice court, my beauty!” he other asserted.

‘You have made a bargain and you must

I stick to it. We will keep you here for a time,

an‘yhow.” , l .
‘Yog cannot keep usl We W111 most surely

“ in those duds, of course, for you can’t.

0 into the street without clothes, and then
ike and I will be after you and have you ar-
rested) for stealing our property. That is the
way we work it with girls who are» inclined
to be ugly. And when We haul you up in a
olice court, do you s’pose the ju lge is going to
ake your word against ours and you with our
clothes on our backs, too, which we can prove?
Won’t be t ink it’s the same old story—gals dis-
satisfied and trying to bolt? Can’t we bring a
dozen up, ready to swear that you two have
served beer here for a week? Just you think the
matter over and make up your mind to be good
girl. You shall have until tomorrow to de-
cide, and. it won’t be well [or you it you choose
to be ugl .” .
And with this arting threat the woman re-

treated through t 9 secret door.

 

we are ladles’ bow by bn‘th and ? ing to persuade them to comply with the con-

,head toward the floor.

. of thing, in time.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
our or DARKNESS comru LIGHT.

A Misrman day, indeed, the two poor girls
spent. The woman brought them u their
meals, good substantial food and ric wines
which she earnestly pressed them to drink.
With the cunning other sex she believed that
if she could awaken an appetite for liquor the
orphans would fall an easy prey, as many a
poor girl has fallen, beset by the temptations
which abound in all large cities. ’

But, not a single drop woull either of the
two touch, nor would they drink anything at
all but pure water. They realized that they
were in one of the dreadful dens which exist
“alongshore” in all great seaports, id they
felt perfectly satisfied that the wretc me, into
whose bands they had fallen would not hesi. ’
tate at any means, no matter ow criminal, to
force their victims to yiell obedience.

“ As long as they do not separate us, and we
retain our senses, we are safe,” Katherine had
remarked eudeavoring to cheer up Hermie. who
was greatly downcast.

The woman had been sparing of her words at
each visit, but when she servsd the supper sh‘e
informed the“ girls that she intended to come
and spend the evening With them, in order to
cheer them up a bit, but the orphans suspected
that it was more for the purpose of attempt-

dlitions that had been imposed, than anything
e se.

“ It is only a question of time," Katherine
had remarked, after the woman had departed.
“ If we hold firm they will get tired of keeping
us, and will be obliged to let us depart, for they
dare not kill us and I think they would hesitate
before they harmed us in any way; still there
isn‘t any telling to what lengths these desperate
wretches will go.” ‘

An hour or so after the supper had been re-
moved the woman came in. v ~

The festivities in the saloon below were in
full blast, for the scraping of a fiddle, the voices
of the singers and the boisterous laughter of the
patrons of the plume came distinctly to, the ears
of the prisoners. "

The woman sat down, and after she had
talked for a few moments, the girls, innocent ,
as they were, could see that she was much un-
der the influence of liquor, which frightened
the sisters. for to them there was hardly amors _
horrible sight than a drunken woman.

“Do ye hear that?” she asked, nodding her
“ There’s where you
ought to be-down there, enjoying yourselves
Go it while you’re youngl " ou’ve only got one
life to lead. Let it be a merry, sweet and short
one, say I! But, you will are .used to this sort
Lord love er! Ican remem.
bar when I was just as foolis about such things
as you two kids are. Why, there was a time
when I Was an honest, respectable woman: .you v
wouldn’t think it, to look at me nowl -Why I
don’t believe there is a cop in the precinct who
would believe that I was ever anything . but
Dublin Betty, that is, what I am \called now;
but there was a time when I could hold up my

 

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,Man N

HOMELESS. ' 29,

head with the best of them for honesty, but in
an evil hour I yielded to temptation, and I’ve
been going down the ladder ever since. It was
a mean, contemptible crime, too, I committed;
I robbed the dead, but obi wasn’t I punished
for it] and by the very man, too, who hired me ;
to do the deed. Wouldn‘t you like to hear all
about it? It's beti er than any yarn you can get ,
hold of in the story papers, and it’s all true,
every word of it i” ' ‘

The‘ girls, thinking it would be best not to
cross their enemy, nodded assent.

“ Maybe it wi 1 be a lesson to you; maybe it .
will teach you that when you get into a rascal’s
power, he can grind you to the dust it he's got
money and plenty of backing, and you are ,
unfortunate enough not to have either,” the
woman remarked with bitter accent. “ This
affair I am going to tell you of happened about
twelve years ago. I was a respectahlo member ‘
of society then. I was a widow, and kept all
boarding-house, and among my boarders was
a man—poor enough then—hut who is worth
two or three millions now, they say. My 1
boarding-house was at Greenpoint, and, this man ‘
was running a small varnish factory in the out~
skirts of the town in the meadows. His factory
was not a success, for he didn’t get up a good
article. and it cost him too much to make it; he
was over head and ears in debt, and his creditors
were running after him for money all the time.
He was so poor that he had to.give up housey
keeping, send his wife and children—he ‘had
five of 7em—out in the country to her father’s,
While he came and boarded with me.

“Well, just at the time when this man was
going right down under the water, another
man came forward, took him by the hair of his
head, as you might say, and pulled him out.

I

o. 2 was a. genius; he could make any-

thing! He had como to New York to sell some

things which he had got up, and one of the

things was a. new way to make varnish, so that;

it could be got up for about half whatit usually

cost, and yet be abetter article. He struck a

bargain With my boarder. He had received a

thousand dollars from some men for something

he had invented;'so, with the thousand dollars 1
and his secret for imaking the varnish, he went

into partnership win my boarder, who was to 3
attend to all the details of the manufacturing
and get one~third of the profits, while No. 2

took two-thirds.

“This put my man right on his legs again,
but no sooner wasall arranged—the partnership
articles signed and the bargain cone uded, than
man No. 2 fell sick—he was boarding with me
-—and died. Then, what does my boarder do

1 but offer me a hundred dollars down for to

steal the dead man’s papers, with a year] an-
nuity at five hundred dollars afterward was
the witness to the partnership articles-I knew
all about the transaction, and was the only
one who could prove it. I was a miserable,
wretched thief! I took the money and stole all
the dead man’s papers. so that w en his family
came to inquire about the fortune, which he .
had promised them, they couldn’t find any-‘

, thing. -Then..I thou hi: 1 would play sharp
with m gentleman, or I felt pretty sure he -‘
' would sharp with melt he gotqqhqnce, l

‘ trick. He believed that I had the papers, and

I didn’t give the papers to him nor (Ht! 1 destroy
them, as I pretended, but I kept them so as to
have a ring in his nose, for I had an idea that
some time he would stop my five hundred dol-
lars a year. ‘

“For five years things-went on all right. I
got my money promptly, and my boarder with
his varnish get rich, but all the time he was
afraid of me, and was planning to play me a

was determined to get them into his ands. He
tried all sorts of games. My house was entered
twice by masked men, who came expressly to
get the documents, but they didn’t succeed.
Then. when he found he couldn’t succeed in

this, he made up his mind that he would stéilp Ir
3 ..

my mouth, anyway. I had bought a lit
house, and through him had it heavily insured.
The house was destroyed by fire; I was accused
of setting it on fire to get the insurance, and
the proof against me was so strong that I was
sent to State prison: yet I was as innocent asI
either of you two kids. I had been entrapped
by the man who had first led me into crime.

" I served my time, and when I came out, a
ruined, desperate woman, I went to him for as-
sistance, never suspecting, then, that he was
the man who had done the mischief. He gave
me what I asked promptly enough, and al-
though he tried his best to find out about the
papers, I stuck to my story that they were de-
stroyed. The money he gave me was another
trap, for he arranged it so that I was arrested 1
for stealing. It was a large sum; my guilt was

‘ made clear, so back to Sing Sing 1 went again.
There 1 made Mike’s acquaintance, and he adv '

vised me to let the matter drop, for he said that
the more I tried to fight this wealthy rascal the
more punishment I would get. I thought he i
was about right, so when I came out of prison,
Mike‘and I were-married, and we went into
keeping this place, as he had some money and
I didn’t trouble my man at all. No doubt he
thinks I am dead, but I ain’t, and I’ve ot the .
papers Iyet, too, and perhaps the day wi 1 come
whe can have my vengeance on Jonathan
Late ford l”

A simultaneous cry of surprise came from
the lips of the orphans.

“The name—the nameof the man who died
in your house?” Katherine exclaimed, trembling
with ex‘citement. -

“Gilbert Monteal,” replied the woman,
anilazed at the interest betrayed by the two
gir s. - '
“ He was our father! We are the orphans
whom this vile man Latchtord robbed 1” Kath-
erine cried. , ‘ ,

The woman stared, hardly able to bring her-
self to believe that this could be true.

Then, with a. violent kick, the door was i
burst open, and into the a artment strode one
of the most noted of the aw York detectives,
followsd by Latchford’s secretary, the young
man who had befriended the girls—Salem Ker-
reton. - \

“You are fairly tread this _time, Betty,” the
detective remarked. “This is a retty ugly
scrape and I reckon you W111 have 0 go uptthe
river for along while.” i .

7 With cries of joythe orphans had rushed

\

\

 

 

' 30

HOMELESS

 

toward the young man, and be briefly explained ‘
that, calling at the hotel next day he found the
proprietor, who had taken a fancy to the girls 1
alarmed at their absence. Detectives were a
once employed, and with such success that
Abner Latchford and his confederatea had
been traced and captured, and the girls tracked
from the time they had left the old house un-
til they had entered Dublin Betty’s den.

“Oh, no! No up the river for me, captain,
it you please. Lord love you! I didn’t mean
no harm to these precious girls,” the woman re~
plied, with a grin of triumph, for she saw a.
way out of the difficulty.

“ Whatl” cried Kerreton, astonished, when
he heard the woman’s voice. “ Why, it it isn’t
Mrs. Martin 1"

“Hallo! hallo! who knows me by my old
name?” and then she recognized the speaker.
“Why, it is little Salem Kerreton; but, how
you have grown! This lad owes a deal to
your father, young ladies, for he gave him
money when his fatherdied, and there wasn’t
a. soul in the world to take care of him.”

“And he has been anxiously waiting for a
chance to pay the debt. Yes, ladies. that I
might be able one day to serve ou. I have re—
mamed with the man whom know to bee
rascal and whom I suspect of being a robber."

CHAPTER XIX.
JUSTICE AT LAST.

“ AND so he isz and I can prove it! I’ve got
the documents right in my bosom here to prove -
itl’” the woman exclaimed, and from a secret
inside pocket she produced two papers, yellow
with age.

“There’s the partnership agreement signed
in my presence and witnessed by me, and here
is the acknowledgment of the receipt of, a
thousand dollars paid into the firm by your
father, young ladies—Gilbert Monteah Take
’em', miss; you’re the eldest, I reckon,” she
cried, giving the Eapers to Katherine. v, “Now
sail in and strip t is black-hearted Scoundrel of
every dollar he has got it you can, and I will
just laugh at the fun! I’m ready to go on the
witness-stand, and there’s a man that knows
about the partnership, although, not much—
Jabez Jones; he used to be a. watchman at the
factory.”

a “ He is still in Latchford’s employment, and
now I understand why he has such influence
over his master,” thesecretary remarked.

 

their hands. The millionaire was waited upon
by one of these legal gentlemen, for as be ex-
pressed it, the case was so strong it was advisa-

le to show their hand at once that the other
side might understand a contest would bee. us‘e-
less waste of time and money. ‘

Latchford. though, was too much the slave of
the money which he had stolen to yield it with-
out a struggle, but when he came to consult his
own lawyers and they went into the particulars
of the case. they strongly advised a crom ro-
mise, for they frankly declared that Latch 0rd
had not one chance out of a thousand to win.

.But, he would not listen to any such thing.
What, give up the wealth for which he had put
his soul in peril, at the first demand? It was
not to be thought ofi, But, when he found that
the men who had assumed the championship of
the two orphans were not only disposed to hold
him to a rigid accountability, but were also do-
ing their best to accumulate proof so as to send
Mr. Abner to State prison, he showed signs of
weakening, and finally agreed to come to terms,
provided Abner was allowed to go free.

One million dollars he agreed to pay, and Mr.
Kerreton took care that, out of this money, the
lawyers did not take a colossal sum for their
services, as is generally the rule with “ the pro-
1fression.” Justice, to them, means enormous

ees.

Abner’s case was arranged so that he was re-
leased on bail. which it was. expected he would
forfeit, for his father had determined to send
him far away from all his old associates, hoping
that in the new West he might learn to lead a.
diderent life; but, what is bred in the bone will
come out in the flesh they say, and the mug
man had not been absent from New ork a.
month when intelligence came that he had be-
come involved in a drunken brawl in a gam-
bling house at Kansas/City, and in the aflray
had been so badly wounded that he had only
lived for an hour after being hurt.

The last straw breaks the camel’s back, and
the death of his only child, the only one who
had been spared to him out of a large family,
threw the millionaire into a fever.

In

He took to his bed and never rose from it.
ten days from the time of the first attack he
was dead, and all through his delirium he raved
about the curse that was attached to the gold
which he had so basely stolen from the widow
and the orphans.

 

_“ Come, Mister Detective, I reckon these gals
ain’t got no complaint to make against me!”
the woman exclaimed, with an air of triumph.

“ Under the circumstances I should sa they
were very unreasonable young ladies i? they
had," the officer remarked quick to understand
that there had been wheels within wheels, and
that from the nettle, danger, the orphans had
plucked the flower, safety.

 

Therestof our tale is soon told.

Acting under the advice of Mr. Kerreton, who
not only found counsel but the material sinews
of war—mane -—able lawyers were retained

as: the  9 the when sistersintrustged to -

The orphan girls being Latchford’s nearest
1 kin, inherited all his estate, and thus fate re-
paired the wrong which had been done.

To the young secretary the girls were more

2 than grateful; and when, encouraged by Kath- ‘

erine’s smiles, he told his soft tale, he was a
‘ thriving wooer. ‘ I ’
Pram Colorado, too, came Hermia's lover,
and the sisters were wedded on the same night.
Happiness at last had come to the two orphan
TEE END. .

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