‘* \

‘ “tullmlllimT-T

1| JWMuh..mnml um (-11 , .. V
Copyrighted. 1885, by Human: AND Aunts. Entered at the Post Office at Now York, N, Y., as Second Class Mail Mutter.
$2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, I’rlce, N 
No. 98 \VILLIAM Sn. NEW YORK. 1‘ 1"“ CW“- 0' '

VOII VII 11 Your.
Or, ARABS AND ANGELS OI" A

WATCH-EYE, the Shadow; GREAT cm.

_ ._.M_#
BY EDWARD L. WHEELER.

 

\\‘\

/

\

R JACK SPHINX EXPOSED 6. HAND-

SOME BADGE. IN THE 10le OF HIS LANTERN:

 

2 I Watch-Eye, the Shadow.

 

Watch-Eye, the Shadow;

Arabs and Angels of a. Great City.

BY EDWARD L. WHEELER,
AUTHOR or “DEADwoon DICK” NOVELS,
“Rosnnun ROB” NOVELS, “DEATH-
FACE, DETECTIVE,” ETC.

 

CHAPTER I.
EIGHTEEN YEARS PREVIOUS.

UPON one of the main streets of the city of
Baltimore, stood a one—story frame building,
painted reddish—brown, and not bearing a very
cheerful appearance. It was evidently a place
of business, for a creaking sign swayed to and
fro above the door, bearing the intelligence that
this was the residence, or at least, the office, of
“ Silas Pry, Broker.”

A step Within the office revealed a small con-
tracted room, meagerly furnished with Wood-
en—bottomed chairs and a desk and table. The
windows were dusty and ornamented with an
average crop of cobwebs, and the floor
did not look as if it had been scrubbed for a
century.

Altogether it was a disreputable looking den
to ornament beautiful Baltimore. ’

One day in May, 186—, a man sat in this
office, turning over the pages of a large ledger,
a thoughtful expression upon his knitted brows.
He was not an old man—indeed, but thirty
years had passed over his head; yet there were
wrinkles about his face and a crafty glitter to
his steely eyes.

His attire was very common—few would
have thou'rht him above the humbler paths
in life. ct, there were those who regarded
Silas Pry as one of the pillars of Baltimore
finances.

A man, he was, with plenty of money,
esteemed by all as honest and fair in all his
dealings; a man who had a finger in the city
government, and whom everybody called sharp
and shrewd.

Silas Pry had come to Baltimore when
no one knew it, evidently, and had estab-
lished himself, without attractin notice;
no one knew what were his antece ents. He
might be the veriest scoundrel in the world—no-
body took p'iius to inquire into his case.

In his little dingy office he sat, day in,
and day out, and ‘sliave ” money and lent
money upon security, dealing equally hard
and grasping with the widow or the mil-
lionaire. It mattered not to him whom he
smote, or whose mouths he wrested the bread
from, by his exorbitant interest and merciless
“shave.” ‘ '

As he sat poring over his accounts. to—day, he
wore an anxious expression of countenance, and
occasionally ran his fingers through his wiry
_ hair, or over his smoothly-shaven face.

“No/ use,” he muttered, closing the book, at
last, and lighting his common clay pipe. “I
shall let no more money without a bigger pre-
miunl, and better security. . I cannot live on it.

 

“ There is Franzbingen, of Charleston, hither-
to esteemed a millionaire—he has fled the coun-
try, with two thousand dollars of 111 money in
his possession, and what have I to s ow for it?
Nothin —only a bit of worthle paper called a.
note. d, come to find out, his brother owns
all of the real estate and personal property, and
—Silas Pry, you’re beat!

The money—lender hit his lips savagely, as he
concluded his meditative solil uy.

_But he was speedily aroused y a knocking at
his door, in a peremptory manner. Laying
down his pen, he went to answer the summons.

oung man, of about his own age, stepped
within the office as he opened the door—a stal~
wart, handsome fellow, Of dashing appearance,
with a fair face, light curling hair and blonde
mustache—a man whose ever move was grace
and ease, attired in the hig t of fashion, and
wearing the refinement of a higher station in life
than that allotted to Silas Pry.

Into the office strode this individual, and drop—
ped into a chair, as if exhausted from long exer-
tion; while Silas Pry turned upon him, after
closing the door with a frown.

“ \Vell, Gerald Tracy, What do you want?”

It was in a ieremptory manner that this de-
mand was ma 0, as the money-lender confronted
his dashing visitor, with an ugly glitter in his
crafty 6 es.

Geral Tracy started, as if the harshness of.
Pry’s voice grated upon his senses unpleasantly.

“ You need not speak so pointedly,” he replied,
evenly. “ My coming to you, Silas Pry, is not
so often that you need regard me as trouble-
some.”

“ Yet I do ” the money-lender replied, snapv

ishly. “ on and I were never lass
Friends, I flatter myself. You were the son of
Old Richard Tracy, as rich a man as ever Mary—
land reared. 1 was the son of a cart-driver.
You were received into society and idolized, be—
cause of our wealth, while I was kicked out and
ignored, ccause I'Was poor. That was the sole
difference between us.” ‘

“ Well, allowing all that, what ofiense have I
committed that I should incur your enmity,
Silas?” '

“ HO! hOl you don’t know that on have done
ought to incur my enmity, eh? ow forgetful
you are, to be sure. You did not wed the WO-
man, then, whom I held dearest of all things on
earth?”

Trac s‘miled good-naturedly, as he stroked his
hea londe mustache.

“ ell, yes, I did win Marion Leefor my wife,
but it was not my money that did it,” he replied,

sbru gingvhis shoulders.

“ erhaps it was your beauty,” Pry said, with
an undisguised sneer.

“ Parks. 5,” -Tracy replied. “ Anyhow, we
loved eac other truly—always shal , for that
matter. But, now, I suppose you are wondering
what brings me to Iyou?” - '

“ I am, undeniab ,” Silas Pry replied, drum-
min upon the table”.

“ on you shall know. I am in trouble, old
fellow—~in such trouble as I never dreamed of
getting in. Imprisonment and social disgrace
stare me in the face, and I have cometo you for
money.” '

 

 

Watch-Eye, the Shadow. ’ ~ 3

 

“ You come to me for money, Gerald Tracy—
you ?”

“ Ay, even so! I am nniless, and even more
—a thief 1 Listen, an you shall know all, and
even though we were never friends, if you are
half the man I believe you to be, you will assist
me out of my scrape. You have money-though
the Lord only knows how you came by it, and

on must help me! Do you hear ?-——you must
e1; me I tell you.”
ilas l’ry bowed, calmly.

“ Go on,” he said. “I will listen to what you
have to say, and help you.”

“You will ?” Tracy exclaimed, joyfully.
“ Then God bless you, for you are more human
thanI gave you credit for being. Here is my
story—a story which ought to cause a blush of
shame to rise to the chee of any man. As you
{hayrhave heard, we have been living fast over
in ashington. Style was requisite to kee us
in social standing, and style we have adhere to

y. It was not so much my wife’s fault as I
taught her to be proud for I come of blood that
brooks no equality. i; may surprise you to
know that the three thousand a year revenue I
received from the old plantation,made but a small
figure in keeping up the expenses, and the three
thousand additional which I received for my
clerkshi in the bank went like chaff before the
Wind. saw it go~saw that something must be
done. Either I must have more money, to pay
off the many debts contracted, or my wife and I
must bid farewell to Washington and Washin -
ton society. This I could not bear to think 0 ,
and so I surrc titiousl borrowed fifty thousand
do lars from t e —— ank,in the dead of one
nirrht. You have no doubt heard of the bank
robbery, as I find that reports are circulating
rapidly, although efforts are being made among
the directors to hush the matter up. ” »

“ And you—?” interrogated Pry.

“ Have been accused of the appropriation. I
hays one chance to save public disgrace and im-
prlsonment.”

“ And what is that chance?”

“The directors offer to lot me go, scot free,
and hush the affair up, providing I return every
penny I have stolen from them, and leave the
country for five years.”

“ And you accept?”

“ If I can get the money, yes.”

“And you intend to leave the country, after
havmg paid them off?” '

“Certainly. By so doing I can in five years
return, my crime unknown, and none to taunt
me of it, an honest man among my fel—
lows.” ’

. “ And what would you do with your Wife dur-
ing all these years?”

‘Leave her in Washington. She will never
know what has become of me until I return,
r1ch enough, I hope, to settle all my indebted-
ness, and begin life anew. My Marion is not
afraid to work, and can support herself by her
needle, as she did before I wedded her. Though
her ride must have afall, it is better so.”

“ on have Riverdalc, yet,” Silas Pry sug—
gested, scratching his head. “ How much do
you value that at?”

I “I have refused seventy-five thousand dollars
for It, because I promised my father upon his

 

deathbed never to part with the plantation. It
is one of the best in the State.”

“Well, I have heard on throu h. What .

more do on want?” Silas ry deman ed. “ You
seem to 6 under a cloud, des ite the fact that
you have always carried your cad so hi h.”

“Do you mean to taunt me?” Geral Tracy
demanded, his eyes flashing.

“Certainly not,” Pry replied, rubbing his
hands in a patronizing manner. “ l sympathize
with on, and am your earnest friend.”

“T en, will you let me have the money I
want?”

“ On conditions, certainly.”

“ On conditions? What do you mean by that?
I was not aware that a true friend as you claim
to be would ask conditions!”

“Ha! ha! the time is passed when friends
trust friends on simple word, Gerald Tracy.
Security now takes the place of men’s words, as
the safest panacea for debt. If you want to

ive me a mortgage upon Riverdale for seventy-
ve thousand ol ars, I will get you fifty thou-
sand dollars in money I”

“Are you mad, man?”

“Never was more sane, I assure you, my dear
Tracy.”

“But our proposal is reposterous. Do you
supppse would sacrifice iverdale in that man-
ner?

“As you please. I am not in the least par-
ticular about lettin you have the money. If
you accept m 0 or, on shall have your
plantation bac when get my seventy-five
thousand.”

“And you would take twent —five thousand
dollars out of me for the use of
outrageous l“

“You may look at it so, but I cannot make a.
livin at a less shave.”

A esperate look came into the eyes of Gerald
Tracy, as he glanced at his watch, and then
through the Window across the street, where a.
well—dressed man stood leaning against a tree.

“A detective, eh?” Silas Pry said, following
his gaze, with a crafty smirk.

Gerald Tracy nodded, as he sat staring in a
reverie upon the dirty floor.

Silas Pr drummed idly upon his desk, and
gazed at is enemy—for he re arded Gerald
Tracy as his enemy, and he was t e bitterest foe
the troubled Washingtonian had.

“ My God, Why was I ever so long in the dark
as to this?” Tracy murmured as if he had for-
gotten the presence of Pry. ‘ Why Could I not
awaken in time to steer out from these accurs-
ed breakers, of which I have now run afoul?
Poor Marionlait will be a. bitter blow to her
when she learns all. But there is no other al-
ternative. God knows I wish there was. I
must accept the terms of this inhuman land-
shark, and break my promise to my dying fath-
er. For the time is growing short. Inside of
an hour, I must place the mone in the detect-
ive’s hands, or go to jail and su er disgrace and
imprisonment. No! no! not that, by Heaven!
I’ll commit murder before I o to Jail. Let me
see. A train leaves for the est to Pike‘s Peak
and Denver this evening, and there Lshall go.
I have already written to Marion, so everything
is complete except—” -

ty. Why, it’s

 

 

4 . I Watch-Eye, the Shadow“.

 

“Signing the mortgagel” Silas Pry finished,
eagerly, laying aside his pen, for he had been
writing rapidly during the latter part of Tracy‘s

soliloqu‘y‘;
The ashin tonian looked up with a start,
and azed keenly at the money—lender.

“ hy is it that you are so eager?” he demand-
ed, suspiciously. ‘ Perhaps you expect to have
Riverdale for your own? But you will be mis-
taken, Inside of twenty years—ay, nineteen
years from this, the 10th day of May, I will. re-
' turn prepared to pay off our claims, prlnmpal
and interest. Do you um erstand me?”

“ Perfectly,” Silas Pry said. “ Shall I fill out
a mortgage for your property to be foreclosed in
nineteen years from to-day, if not taken up?"

“ I sup 030 so. I see no other alternative,”
Tracy said. “Go ahead, I will call in the de—
tective for a witness to the compact.”

Silas Pry set to work at writing, briskly. At
a beckon, the detective crossed the street and en-
tored.

He was a low-brewed, fierce—looking fellow,
powerful of build, and the possessor of an evil
pair of eyes, around which lingered traces of
dissipation.

Gerald Tracy paced up and down the room,
his head bowed, and an cxpression of despond-
ency upon his face.

Silas Pry at last finished writing. and after
reading over the mortgage, handed it to Tracy.

“Si n that, please,” he said, briskly, “and
River ale shall raise you the money.”

Gerald Tracy took the document and read it
several times over. It was a formal mortgage
upon the plantation known as Rivordalc, given
Silas Pry by Gerald Tracy in consideration of
seventy-five thousand dollars U. S. money, said
mortgage not to be foreclosed until nineteen
years from date—interest during the interval to
accrue and be added to the principal at time of
liquidation or foreclosure.

‘ All satisfactory?” Silas Pry demanded.

“ Yes, I su
seated himse
bold, graceful style of chirography.
give me the money.” .

‘ Without demur, Silas Pry unlocked a safe
which stood beneath his desk, and took outa
biggroll of bills of large denominations.

at of these he counted fifty thousand dollars,
the whole making a. large stack of paper.

Gerald Tracy took the money and counted it
over, to assure himself that it was correct; then
he turned to the detective.

“I have here the price of my liberty. Give
me a receipt for it, and it is yours to return to
the bank.” . -

Upon a receipt reparod express] for the oc—
casion by the ban , the detective” illiam Mc-
Quaver, by name, appended lllS signature,
whereupon the recei t and the money exchang—
ed hands, and Gera (1 Tracy arose to his feet
with a sigh of relief.

“At last!” he said, “I am a free man, and
grepared to begin life anew! Look out for me,

llas Pry, nineteen years from today, the tenth
of Ma 1” .

An bowing haughtily, he turned and quitted
the room and strode down the street With’a firm,
elastic step, while Silas Pry smiled craftily.

ose so,” the other replied, as he
and signed the document in a
“New

 

CHAPTER II.
EIGHTEEN YEARS LATER.

EIGHTEEN ears from the month of May in
which Geral Trac borrowed fifty thousand
dollars from Silas ry in Baltimore, rovious
tohis departure from the land of his irth, to
seek a fortune in golden lands.

Eighteen years is a long lapse of time, and
many changes maybe noted in the growth and
settlement of our fair, beautiful continent, of
which every true-born American is justly proud.

We change the scene of our romance to the
Centennial city of Philadelphia, where we pro-
pose to chronicle the secret and open events of
pverélday life in the great metropolis—the Qua—
{er ity.

Upon one of the principal thoroughfares stood
the imposing residence of Judge Felix Ver-
millye. It was built entirely of stone, of elabo—
rate finish, aud stood upon a terraced lawn
which was a perfect paradise of flowers, well—
kept shrubs, and spraying fountains, within a
labyrinth of circling and serpentine walks.

It was one of the finest residences upon --——
street, and therein dwelt Judge Vermillye and
his accomplished daughter, the stately Beatrice,
an acknowledged queen of society.

Of the antecedents of the Vermillycs very lit-
tle was really known, though it was currently
reported that they were enormously wealthy,
and were of Virginian birth. They were at once
admitted into the best society, and idolized be-
cause tlicy were leaders in fashion, and had a.
limitless bank account.

The judge was interested in a‘steamship line,
owned a large woolen manufactory, and s ortly
after taking up his residence, was elected to the
vice—presidency of one of the first banks of the

cit .

X11 this combined to make him popular, and
his philanthropy upon several occasions gained
him further notoriety through the press.

In society, Miss Beatrice shone resplendently
as a star, for hers were ever the most expensive
and stylish toilettcs, and she was universally) es-
teemeda beautiful woman—a tall, stately ru-
nctte of willowy form, with cold, purely chisel—
ed features dark hair, and eyes to match—eyes
that had the power of flashing with intense
scorn, or of lighting handsomely with enthusiasm.

Thus the Vermillycs lived in their magnificent
home, drove their costly turnouts, gave their

. fashionable receptions, and carried on a. style of

existence that was the marvel and topic of dis-
cussion at manya mil-table.

One dark rainy evening in May, the rand
mansion on Vermillye Terrace was brilliantly
illuminated for a fate, in honor of Miss Beatrice,
upon her nineteenth birthday.

Cards of invitation had been freely circulated

among “the best families,” resulting in gather-_

ing a large assemblage of guests in the Ver—
millye parlors.

The music of a fine orchestra throbbed weirdly
upon the night; the perfume of rare flowers from
the well-stocked conservatory was delicately
gratifying to the senses; while the hum of busy
voices, the rcvelry of the dancers, the clinkin
of glasses, and sounds of laughter all betoken
the general enjoyment of the hour.

Miss Beatrice was resplendent in a. rich even-

..vam up»:

/

 

l
§.
%
l

 V,,..,.,.....,..,A

   ¢ 

Watch-Eye,

the Shadow. 5

 

ing costume, with her hands, hair and throat
begeweled, and her arm given over to a gay Eng-
lis marquis.

De Haven was his name—tho Mar uis of De
Haven, from London; quite the “ catc ” of the
season the judge had assured his dutiful (laugh—
ter previous to the introduction at the font.

'I‘he marquis was a pale, effeminate person-
age, with milky complexion and eyes to match,
light hair and sickly Side-whiskers of the vcriest
sandy hue. His dress was natty and his linen
immaculate, while he sported a “loud” supply
of enuine diamonds, and other jewelry.

, accom lished dancer, he and Beatrice were
the observe of all observers, as they whirled
throughthe mazes of the dance.

Judge Vermillye stood gazing on in due pa-
rental pride in company with several business
gentlemen of his acquaintance.

“Beatrice looks her best, to—night, Sheffield,
ch’!”he said, stroking his long beard, compla-
cently.

“Indeed she does, and she and your English-
man dance superbly. From London, you say i”

“ De Haven? 01)! yes. I have telegraphed
and found out that he is a big gun over on the
other side.” .

“ Indeed! Then I suppose we need not he
surl'prised to hear of an engagement soon, eh?”

’ he judge smiled.

“ It depends how well Beatrice likes his lord-
ship. If everything goes on smoothly, I’d as
soon have the marquis for a son—in—law as any
man I know of, as he seems to be a decidedly
jolly dog, and a thoroughly good fellow.”

And so, the evening wore on, within the man-
sion one round of gayety, while outside the
spring rain poured down, and the thunder boom-
ed along the heavens as answering the sharp
flashes ofjlightning.

The judge was a liberal provider, and his

ests lacked not wine and champagne to wash

own the sultriness of 'the evening and the fa—
tigue of the ball-room.

Outside the illuminated mansion and grounds
of Judge Vermillye, humble passers—hy would
occasionally pause for a moment, to gaze upon
the scene of revelry, or to listen to the exquisite
muSIc that floated out through the open case-
ments.

But such as deigned to pause, were sure soon
to hurr away toescape the drenching shoWer
that fel evenly from the clouds—all, save one.

A man came zig-zagging along the street and
paused under the lamp-light in front of the gate
which led into the lawn of the Vermillye laco—
a man. such as one will seldom meet in t 0 city
of Philadelphia—a gaunt, hungry-lookingindi-

’vidual, with blcared eyes, nn uncommonly red

nose, and hair that, to all appearances, had not
made the acquaintance of a comb or brush for
many a long day. The beard upon his face was
of a two weeks’ growth giving him a rough and
uncouth ap earance. Ilis garments were torn
and ragga , except where they were patched
with contrasting material; his boots were
broken out at the sides and toes, and his hat had
evidently some time been used ms a target for
rifle practice, as it was full of bullet-holes. This
comprised is possessions, save it be a small
bundle swung to a stick over his shoulder.

A full-fledged tramp looked this fellow, and. ‘
that he had taken “spirit” consolation lately,
was evidenced by the unsteadiness of his gait.

Ho paused, and steadying himself against the
lamp-post, gazed up toward the gaslit parlors,
wherein forms of men and women were whirling
in the giddy dance, to the music of unseen mu—
s1e1ans.

For several minutes the tramp gazed in silence
toward the mansion, while the rain poured down
upon him pitilessly; then he gave vent to a
grunt, the nature of which it would have been
difficult to analyze.

“They’re havin’ a big (hie) time up in that,
durned if they ain’t,” he soliloquized, scratchin
his chin. “ Wonder who keeps that high-ton
roost, anyhow? Phew! do my nostrils deceive
me, or do I really smell champ ? Must be a.
fu’st~(:lass kind of han ’otel, I rec 'on. Wonder
of they receive guests at all hours? Reckon I
ain’t in fu’st-class rig, but mebbe I’ll p-p-pass
(hie). I wonder of there’s enny dorgs about?”

And, with the instinct belonging to his race
the man peered about the grounds in search 0
the tramp’s worst enemy, a watchful dog.

A sleopylooking coach—dog lay upon the ter-
race steps, with one eye open. An ordinary ob-
server would have classed him among the most
harmless of dogs, but not so with the tramp.
Muddled as was his brain, he was well aware
that the sleepy-looking canine was secretly
smacking his lips for a piece of tramp.

“ No, no, I hain’t got any (hic) meat for ye,
dorg‘y,” this lone adventurer muttered. “ Ken’t
spare a pound, nohow. Kinder (hie) intelligent-
lookin‘ )urp, that. Wonder if he be susceptible
ter f-f— atte '4”

And, scare ing around among the rags of' his
coat, the tramp brought forth a. fresh piece of
beefsteak and tossed it up on the terrace, in
front of the dog.

At first the sagacious animal disdained to no—
tice the offering; but after a few moments, dur-
ing which time the tramp waited patiently, the
scent of the meat caused the dog to rise and ap—
proach it and smell it over and over. As a final
result, he swallowed it with relish, while the
tramp, from his position by the lamp-post,
chuckled audibly.

“No, (hie) beast or man who isnot (hic) sus-
cc tible to flatter ,” he said.

he dog went ack and laid down upon the
stops, after finishing his meal, and waiting a few
minutes more, the tramp zigvzagged forward,
opened the gate, and ascended to the terrace. As
he passed the dog, he gave ita kick, butthe poor
brute stirred not. He was dead!

Staggering on, the tramp ascended to the ve-
randa, and entered the grand vestibule which
was deserted, and made his way along the hall
toward the refreshment room, in the rear, us-
ing occaSionallyto inspect such articles 0 f —
niture or ictures as aroused his curiosity.

Judge ermillye was in the dinner salon,with
a group of his most intimate friends, at the
time, engaged in sampling some rare old vint-
age, and the judge after proposing a toast had
raised the glass of 1i nor to his lips, when a
trembling hand sudden y reached over his shoul-

 

der and snatched it from his grasp.
With an ejaculation of surprise he wheeled to

 

 

8 Watch-Eye, the Shadow,

 

behold a sight that caused the blood to boil in
’his veins.

The tramp was quai'fing the wine with the
greatest of gusto, his face suffused with gracious
smi es.

The judge’s companions burst into a shout of
laughter, while the judge himself smothered an
oat .

“By in soull” he gasped, his face apoplectio

in color, ‘this surpasses any case of actual im-
udence that ever came to my notice. Who is
he fellow?”

“’R-r-r—rastus Racket, at yer (hie) service!”
vouchsafed the tramp, seeming to think that he

, was called upon to introduce himself. “ Werry
good wine—w—w—werry good. Don’t (hie)
mind if I do take another nip, seein’ it’s you.
Y—y—-—yes, take mine straight} ’

And he passed back the glass, smacking his
lips loudly.

' Judge. ermillye snatched the glass from his
hand, and pointed toward the door.

V “ Go!” he said, authoritatively, “or I’ll have
.my servants kick you out, you ragged loafer.”

’Rastus Racket looked in the direction indi—
cated by the judge’s finger, then back at the
judge, the blankest of leers coming upon his
face. Then he shook his head dubiously, and his
ears wiggled to and fro with as much ease as the
ears of a mule.

“Have to (hie) speak louder!” he muttered;
“ much deaf, an’ (hie) can’t understand.”

,“Leave the house I sayl” the judge thun-
dered at the top of his voice, “or I shall have
my servants put you out!”

An expression of intelligence immediately lit
up Ogle ace of the tramp, as if he fully under-
sto .

" Yes, w-werry good wine!” he assented, with
\a quizzical leer. “Your treat? Yes. Razzer
drink (his), wi’ you as any better man."

This caused another roar of laughter from the
judge’s guests, but it thoroughly exasperated the
judge, and seizing the tramp by the arm and
coat-collar, and drag ing him out into the hall,
he forcibly pitched im headforemost out of
doors.

Closin the door, he returned to his guests and
hastily rank off the toast, after which he ex—
cased himself for a few moments, and sought
the solitude of his library. Here he turned on
the gas, and aced to and fro, his face flushed,
his whole being agitated with nervous excite—
ment.

“That face!” he gasped—“ there is none other
in the world exactly the same. B heaven! I

‘am not mistaken in the man, shrew as was his
disguise. This matter must be settled. IVith
that man at large I am not safe. Ruin, expo-
sure, disgrace, stare me in the face. Ha! a
ready thou ht. I havo Chica, my Mexican
steward. e is safe and trusty 1"

Touching a bell the judge summoned a ser-
vant whom he in turn dispatched for the Mexi-
can, who soon appeared.

He was a dusky-skinned fellow of some twenty-
eight or thirty years with an evil eye in his

end and a general ex ibition of restlessness.

“ You saw the tramp ” Judge Vertmllye said.
“Well, I don’t want him ever to be seen alive
again, in this city. Do you understand me?”

 

The swarw face smiled, and nodded; then
withdrew. hile Judge Vermillye descended
to the parlors, feeling somewhat easier, despite
the fact that he had pronounced a fellow-mor-
tal’s doom.

For Chica was a faithful bloodhound—a hu-
man tool to perform whatsoever the judge
willed.

“ Curse the fellow, how his comin unnerved
me!” the judge declared, to his frien 5, later, as
he cracked a fresh bottle.

“ I have a particular horror of tramps, and
then this fellow was so much bolder than they
usually are. To your health, gentlemen, and
also—to the tramp’s!”

CHAPTER III.
THE TEAM? FINDS FRIENDS.

“HELLO! bless my eyes if I haven’t a case of
mystery to tackle the very first night of my
career as a detective. Jack Sphinx, old boy,
you’re in luck.”

The speaker was a man enveloped in a lon
oil-cloth coat, with a broad—brim hat slouche
over his eyes. He had stopped in traversing one
of the many narrow, dark thoroughfares of the
city, to bend over an apparently inanimate form
which lay outstretched upon the sidewalk.

The night was well advanced toward another ‘
day, and as dark as Stygia. The rain still pour-
ed down ceaselessly, and not a person was to be
seen or heard abroad. The lamps that were
posted at the street corners gave forth but a
feeble, flickering light—often seemed to die out
altogether, as a fierce blast of wind would sweep
along through the street.

Jack Sphinx glanced sharply at his surround-
ings before making an examination of the case
which lay at his feet. He was in a locality that
had the repute of being none too safe after dark,
and caution was one of the ingredients of his
composition.

A close scrutiny failed to reveal any person
in the neighborhood, and he turned toward his
case. .

Producing a dark—lantern he shot the slide,
and directed the little bolt of light upon the pros-
trate man.

It was the same tramp who earlier in the eve-
ning had invaded the mansion of Judge Vermili-
ye on —— street. '

Had Chica followed him, and executed his
master’s bidding?

Evidently so, for ’Rastus Racket lay ’quite
still, as if earl, and there was an ugly bruise
upon his left eye, and a red discoloration about
his throat.

“ There has been foul play here,” Jack Sphinx
announced. “A sensation for the morning Ja~
pers. ‘ A man found dead upon a disreputa lo
street, at midnight, by Sphinx, the great dc-
telctive!’ Ha! ha!” and the man laughed at the
1( ea.

Closing the slide of his lantern, he knelt beside
the tramp, and tearing o n his dirt , ragged
shirt, he placed his ear to is heart. moment
later he raised his head and glanced around him.

“ The chap still lives, whoever he may be.” he
muttered. ‘ I should say by the scent of his
breath that he had been drunk and fallen by the

1‘

Watch-Eye, the Shadow. 7

 

way, only for these bruises and discolorations.
I wonder how heavy he is, anyhow?”

An attempt to lift the inanimate form proved
that he was quite too heavy for one man to
carry, although he appeared thin and gaunt
from exposure and hunger.

This fact became immediately ap arent to
J ack Sphinx, and taking from under is coat a
small whistle, he blew it rapidly and shrilly, in
little jerks.

In the course of a few moments loud footsteps
were heard approaching, and a policeman came
dashing up.

.“ W’at‘s gone wrong?” he demanded, out of
breath from his run.

“ You see don’t you?" Jack Sphinx said,point—
ing to the body 0 the tramp. “ There’s been
foul play here and I want you to help me carry
the fellow to gglesby row.”

“ Sho’! Is the chap dead?”

“ No~merely stunned, I take it.”

“ Been drunk at that, too ” the cop said,
smelling the tramp’s breath. ‘ Come, let’s jerk
him down to the station.”

“I say no!” Sphinx replied, coolly. “I will
take him to my hospital, if you please. The fel—
low has been assaulted, and I will take care of
him for the present.”

“And who are you!” the policeman demand-

’ ed surlily.
i‘

or answer Jack Sphinx exposed a handsome
badge, inthe light 0 his lantern, with a cool
ironical laugh.

“ My name is Jack Sphinx, detective, at your
service,” he answered.

The policeman muttered an unintelligible
ejaculation of some sort, and seized the tramp
by the legs.

“ Come alon ,” he called. “ I reckon you be
a new one, or should ’a’ know’d ye.”

Without more ado they raised the inanimate
form of ’Rastus Racket.theen them and bore
him away out of that street, into another which
was, if anything, darker, but cleaner and less
offensive.

After a journey of several blocks, they halted
in front of a tenement block, four stories in
hight, which must have been built years before,
for it was now in a ruined condition, the win-
dows being minus man panes of glass, and the
bricks decaying and falling out in places.

The first floor was occupied by German and
Irish families of the lower grades, while the
upper stories were chiefly tenanted by a more
respectable class, the upper rooms being in bet-
ter condition than those upon the ground.

A broad staircase led from the street and, up
this Sphinx and the policeman carried ’Rastus
Racket. ,

“‘You seem to be familiar with this den,” the
policeman remarked, as they roceedcd.

“ To some extent, yes,” J ac replied. “ I have
a little private hospital of my own 111i in Room
1 run y my Angel of the Attic us call her.
W ban you see her, you will not think I have
overrated her, I am sure.”

Pausintfi a moment on the first landing for
breath, ey then ascended to the second, then
trudged along a. long hallway, finally stopping
before a door on the left-hand side.

Upon this Jack Sphinx gave a peculiar rap,

 

after which it was opened by a young woman—
a maiden, rather, of eighteen summers.

Fair of face and graceful in form, she was a
most pleasant object for gaze to rest u on, with
her brown, sparkling eyes, sunny ir, and
bri ht expression of countenance.

e uttered a glad cry as she saw Jack, but
her cry seemed to die out into a little wail of
horror as she caught a glim se of the policeman
and the insensible ’Rastus acket.

Jack, however, took pains to reassure her, in
a kindly tone.

“Don’t be frightened, Nellie. I’ve brought
my first case, as I promised I would. An old
codger you see, who has been foully dealt with.
Isod gglesb in?”

“No, shon d not have opened the door. bad
he been here,” Nellie replied. “ Bring the poor
man inside, Jack, and if I hear Jared coming, I
will hide him.” .

With the policeman’s aid, Jack lifted ’Rastus
Racket inside the room, and laid him on the
lounge. The officer then bowed and took his
departure. ,

As soon as he was gone, Nellie sprung eagerly
to J ack’s embrace.

“Oh! I am so glad you came, Jack, fer I
have been so lonesome, and fearful that some
harm would come to you in your new vocation!”
she said throwing her arms about his neck, and
pulling him down so that she might kiss him.

For Jack S )hinx was a fellow that any wo-
man might a ore. Tall and stalwart, with a
well—developed form in which was a super-
abundance of strength and muscle; a keen eye,
regular classic features that man would have
pronounced handsome, brown cur ing hair, and
a high, intellectual forehead, he was the picture
of a handsome man.

A light brown mustache shaded his month,
about which ever lurked a good-natural ex-
pression.

“ You are glad, my Attic Angel?"I he said re-
turning her caress. “Well, I am glad. hut,
laying aside lovers’ matters, here’s my first Jrc-
fessional case waiting our attention. How ong
before you ex ect Ogglesby?”

“ Oh, Jack,IIj do not know. He is ver cruel
to me. He got very drunk to-da , an went
out, declaring his intention of m ing a night
of it

“ Humphl Let me catch him drunk upon the
street, and see how quick I’ll jerk him into the
station.”

“ Don’t do it, Jack, I beg of you. He is avin-
dictivo old wretch, and he would do you harm,
should you interfere with him. I grow to fear
him more and more every day I live. He even
threatenedto pound me last night, and would,
no doubt, had not Mr. Crockett, next door, in-
te sed and argued with him. 0h! Jack, it is
aw 111 to be bound out to such an old wretch.
I sometimes at to feeling desperate. I didn’t
used to ming it so much until I—I met you
Jack and learned that there were some good
people in the world I” .

“My poor little Angel 1” the young detective
said, softly, smoothing back the sunny hair
from her forehead. ‘ Yours is indeed a hard
lot. But take cheer. - Three more years will
place you out of Jared Ogglesby’s hands, and

 

 

~

8 Watch-Eye, the Sh adow.

 

then whom will you seek to protect you for the
remainder of your life?" .

“You, of cour:e, Jack—who else do I know
who has been aslkmd to me as you? No one-—
no one Whom I care half so much for. You
may‘ have me even sooner than you imagine,
Jac .”

“ How do you mean?”

“Jared Ogglesb is failin
age and rum are s attering
cannot long hold out.”

“ Well, pretty the sooner you are froetocome
to me as m litt 9 wife the better it will suit me.
I’ve got a little nest all prepared for your arri—
val. But here we are a ain neglecting our
subject. I will see how ad y he is bruised,
patch him up a little, and leave him in your
care. When Ogglesby comes on can hide him
in the secret partitioned hal way which I dis-
covered. I don’t believe he’ll be molested there,
until I can come and see him again."

They now set about making an examination
of the tramp’s injuries.

Search disclosed only the ugly bruise over his
left eye, and the discolored ring about his neck.
Otherwise he appeared to have received no dis-
(Itng hurts.

“ e has been choked, evidently, or elsea cord
with a weight to one end, such as is used by the
Oriental stranglers, has been slung about his
neck, the weight strikin him upon the eye,”
Jack said, re ectivel . ‘ The latter is probably
the correct theory. e seems to breathe regu-
larly, and will be all right as soon as restored
to consciousness. Is there any liquor in the
bonsai”

Nellie hurried to a cupboard, and brought
forth a bottle which was the property of Jared
Ogglesby. This Jack took and poured a few
dro s between the lips of the tramp.

9 effect was electrical.

A shudder seemed to traverse the man‘s
frame, and he gave a gasp, after which he
slowly opened his eyes.

Jack raised him to a sitting position, and then

stepfied back a pace.
‘ umphl” ’Rastus Racket granted, staring
about in some curiosity.

“ What’s the matter? Where am I? Who are
you?” and his bleared eyes turned inquisitively
upon Jack and Nellie.

“One question at a time, if you please, my
friend, and we will endeavorto answer you,”
Jack answered, With a smile. “ My name is
Jack 8 hinx, at your service. This young lady
is Miss ellie Morton, my betrothed."

The tramp stared at Nellie, queerly.

“ Beautiful I” he muttered, half aloud.

“You’ve made a good choice. young man.
She will make you a good wife. But, how came
I here?”

“ Well, you Were carried here by a policeman
and myself. I found you lying insensible in a
dark street, and taking pity on you, had you
conveyed here to my private hospital.”

.“ Ugh! I remember,” the tramp said, rubbing
his inJured eye. “I was drunk, as usual, an
somebody lass‘oed in neck, like they do on the
plains, and thum me over the eye with a
stone. I didn’t seem to remember any more just
then. Rather a game-lookin’ optic, eh?"

I

every day. Old
is system, and he

 

“Yes; gen will have to be careful or you will '

lose it. 0 you Were drunk, then, when at-
tacked?"

“ I’ll allow I was. You see the fact is I hadn’t
seen many sober days since I’ve been East.”

“ And why? Do you not know that whisky is
a man’s worst enemy?”

“ Yas, I reckon you’re ri ht, young man; but,
you see, when I cum back ast, after an absence
of nearly seventeen years, and found ' the hopes
of a lifetime all blasted and withered, I war as
disconsolate a mortal as evyer trod terra firma,
an’ tuk ter drink. That war nigh a year ago,
an’ since then whisky’s got so firm a hold upon
me that thar’s no sech a thing in ther Bible as
lettin’ it alone. Besides, ye see, thar’s nothin‘
for me ter live for—no wife, no chick nor child,
no friends—an’ I calculate the sooner I find my
we to a hole in the ground, the better for my-
sel and the world at arge.”

“ You have a wrong idea altogether, my
friend,” Jack said, earnestly. “There are hun—
dreds ready to grasp you warmly by the hand,
were on to redeem yourself."

“ 6 don’t mean to say thet ye believe it,
youn feller?”

“ ertainly I do. I speak only what I believe.
A drunkard has no true friends, but a temperate
man has many. The world is not yet so gone to
the bad that there are not honest, faithful souls
in it. ’

“ Mebbe you’re right thar, but I’ve been cl'ar
over the world, and as a general thing the people
war all greedy, selfish an’ worldly. No use 0’
me tryin' tersto ticklin’ my weazand wi’tar-
ant’ler, no use. othin’ short 0’ extreme povert
an’ a prison oell’d do the job. Sumtimes I thin
I’d go to jail a year of I could regain my wits an’
be as I was a few years a o.”

“ Oh! sir, I am so gl to hear you say so!”
Nellie cried, clasping her hands eagerly. “ Jack,
if we could only induce him to go to the Reform
Home! I am sure they would kill his appetite
for strong drink, and oh! how happy it would
make me i”

“ Thankee little gal. You’re the first woman
who has said as pleasant a thing to me since—
well, since long, long ago.”

And the tramp brushed moisture from his un-
injured eye.

‘There is a Home of Reform, here in the
city,” Jack explained, “in charge of a kind-
hearted physician and his family, where intern-
perate men and women are taken under treat-
ment and I am happy to say that many won-
derfu cures have been effected. But the charges
are necessarily high—and—and I fear they
would be above your reach. But perhaps the
united contents of our pocket-books might pro—
cure you an entrance, that is, if you would go.”

“ Oh! do go——please do!” Nellie said, eagerly,
“ and when you come out, we will be your
friends, and so will others, and perhaps Jack
could get you a good paying jo , for Jetle
bogndn to be an influential citizen, you know,
an —

Pretty Nellie paused in her childish enthusi-
asm, while ’Rastus Racket chuckled outright:

“ You’re a good little girl, miss, an’ it does me
good to hear you talk. My life 0’ late years has
been barren o’ sech streaks 0’ sunshine as your

9

‘0?

Watch-Eye, the Shadow. 7 D

 

bright resence unfolds. An' I’ve made 11 m
mind t at I’ll try 01$lproposition. thoug it’
robably be a toug p through. As to money,
ittle gal, why I‘ve ots of it, an' when ’Rastus
Racket makes his will, you an’ your respective
husband, thar, shall have a large 5 'ce out of
my golden pie. Ah! I had forgotten—my bun-
dle! What has become of it?”

And the tramp’s face grew pale as be gazed
around and did not behold it.

' “ My bundle!” he repeated, excitedly. “ If
that is lost I am ruined! ’

“Calm yourself, my friend!” Jack said. “ I
left the bundle behind, for I did not consider it
of any value. I gave it a kick up an alley, and
no doubt it is there still. I will go at once and
get it I”

And seiziu his hat, he hurried from the room,
and in the 'rection where he had found the
tram lyin .

Ne 'e an 'Rastus Racket waited impatiently,
and in the course of half an hour heard some-
body coming up the stairs, three steps at a time,
as i in a. cat hurry.

“It is ack! it is Jacki” Nellie cried, 'oyous-
ly, springing forward and opening the cor, to
admit him. “And he has got your bundle, too,
Mr. Racket.”

“Yes, I found it just where I had kicked it,”
Jack explained, as he delivered the budget,
which was wrapped in an old silk handkerchief.

The tramp received it with muttered thanks
and proceeded to open it. Nellie and Jack
stood by, watching, more out of curiosity than
intention.

A couple of sealed envelopes rolled out as the
bundle came untied and then a handful of large

olden coins, several gold rings, and one set with
'amonds of great size and brilliancy.

“ Oh! how pretty!” Nellie could not help say-
ing, enthusiastically, while Jack gazed Silently
on, not a little surprised.

“ Oh! I got ’em all honestly!” ’Rastus Racket
assured. I grubbed for gold sixteen ears,
steady and I salted down a few sech t gs.
Here, leetle gal, I’ll give ye the diamond ri to
kee ’til .I come out 0‘ ther Home as ye it.
An Jack, heer, kin keep the rest for me. Now,
then, I’m all ready to go and try to make a man
of in self.”

“ ut you should not trust us!” Jack expostu-
latcd. “ re you come out, something might
happjeru that I would lose it. ”

ell, then you may deposit in the Bank of
North America in the name of Eurastus
Racket, and send the receipt to me at the place
where you are going to take me. Come! now
let’s go at once, while the fit is on me, or I shall
back out.” . n

Jack Siphinx knew that it would be policy, to
obey, on so, after pocketing the tramp smoney,
they both bade adieu to Nellie, and descended to
the street.

It Was not yet daylight, but Jack was aware
that the Home was over open, and so he led the
wa through the dark streets.

veral times they were sto by police

men, but the star under the lape of Jack 3 coat

fines ,equal to a written pass through the
es.

Half an hour later Jack Sphinx emerged from

 

the Reform Home, but ’Rastus Racket was not
with him.

The tram was now where he could not get in-
toxicating Lfiuors. And he had a year to stay
before be CO d again be set at liberty.

CHAPTER IV.

ONE YEAR LATER—MIKE KEENE’S CLUB—THE
STRANGER WITH A GLASS EYE.

ONE year later, in the month of May, on
Chestnut street, Philadelphia, stood a lar e, im-
ing structure of brick, the oun floor
ing occupied as a store, and e basement
by a fruit-stand. The second floor was taken
up) for offices by prominent business men,
w ile the whole of the third story was occu-
pied by what was familiarly known to those
who were aware of its existence as “ Mike
Keene's Club.”

Gaming establishments are plentiful in the
Quaker City. but there are perhaps none
run upon as large a scale or conducted on
as ‘gajgh-toned ” principles as this Mike Keene’s

lu .

Unlike other places of the kind, there are not
a mixture of games to attract the visitor, but
the gambling is confined to one species of game,
and that only a “wheel of fortune.”

To be sure, there are dice-cups to shake for
cigars, but this fact is scarcely noticed for the
buzz about the great wheel of destiny.

The wheel in question was a beauty, being
large, with 'a goldjgatcd hub and axle, upon
which it revolved, e spokes being handsomely
inlaid with pearl and ivory, and the numbers
upon the rim being of solid gold and crested with
a diamond to each number.

Those said, who knew, that the wheel, with its
magnificent mountings, had cost Mike five or six
thousand dollars. There were one hundred num-
bers upon the wheel, and ten cards were usually
sold, each card bearing ten numbers. If by
chance the sna finger stopped at any number
upon your car , you were e winner of ninety
dollars, while ten dollars went into the coffers of
the banker, who was the inevitable Mike Keene
himself, the ten cards havin all been disposed
of at ten dollars a card. Ha —cards were some—
times sold to accommodate those who were
“broke,” or such as were too modest to venture
a larger sum. In case some number on the half-
card won, forty-five dollars went to the holder
of the card, and forty-five to the man who
held the other half, and ten into the banker’s
pocket.

In case the second half of the card was not
sold, the banker retained it, and won or lost as
the case might be. In every case each turn of
the wheel would not the banker ten dollars, and
when sometimes of a da or evening the wheel
would go around many undred timeshis profits
were enormous. . _

Mike Keene is no fictitious character, as man
a poor fool can testify who has gambled at _
club. Popular among the business men, and rich
as Croesus he rejoiced in his callin ,claiming
that he did good for all the owl resufitmg from
his “ little ame.”

It is bu justice in behalf of the poo le of
Philadelphia to say that only a  9w 9;

 

 

~ 10 Watch-Eye, the Shadow.

 

 

all the great pulation knew or ever heard r-
ticularly of ike Keene and his club. An , as
for the city authorities, if they were aware of
the existence of such a personage or such a club-
room, they were quiet and close-mouthed about
it. At least the police never “pulled” Mike
Keene’s place, and the club and its votaries con—
tinued to prosper and grow more notorious
among business men.

The room in question was furnished with a
taste and magnificence rarely ever seen in a.

ambling hall. The floor was carpeted with rich

russels, and furnished with luxurious uphol-
stered furniture, while the ceiling was a marvel
of the fresco art, and the walls were hung
with pictures and paintings, such as one will
not often meet with outside of an art gallery.

On one side of the room, near the middle, was
the standard with the axle upon which revolved
the wheel of fortune.

One man stood upon a bench to whirl it, at the
clang of the banker’s call—bell, while four men,
elegantly dressed, stood within the low railing
inc osure that encircled the wheel, to sell tickets
to the s ectators.

A litt e office in one corner of the inclosure
contained the am 1e roportions of Mike Keene,
who was his own Emu er and treasurer.

He was a thick-set individual, with iron-gray
hair and mustache, and wore a pair of gold—rim
glasses, when engaged at his work.

The evening of the 8th of May saw quite a
crowd in Mike Keene’s establishment, composed
of merchants, speculators, gamblers by profes-
sion, bankers, and occasionally a theatrical
manager or actor. Men were there, whose
families waited their coming home; men were
there who had no homes or families; men were
there who professed religion, and in one or two
instances were deacons of prominent churches.
This ma seem incredible, but was nevertheless
a fact. {flany names of patrons we might men-
tion that would be a thunderbolt in social and
religious circles.

Among the votaries about the wheel, was
Judge Vermillye.

’ He was faultlessly attired, in the hight of
fashion, and was as much engaged as though he
were not esteemed a “model society man,” an
upright and good parent, and an honorable citi-
zen. /

The scene was one that was peculiarly excit-

m .

g‘rom overhead the gas shed down a soft radi-
ance; the voices of the criers who sold the tick—
ets, the hum of the Wheel, the cries of disap-
pointment or joy, as the case might be, all
min led through the room creating an excite-
men% easy to acquire, but hard to dispel. Many
dropped in, just to look on, but before they left
were by the luck of others tempted to try their
own fortune.

Judge Vermillye had been the lucky man of

the evening, haying won, continuously.
‘ It was usually the custom of Mike Keene to
limit a player to a dozen winnings of an even-
ing, but Judge Vermillye was a friend of the
establishment, and could not be offended of
course.

At last there entered the club-room a man
who had. never been. weathers More; cease:

,/
\

 

quently all eyes were directed upon him for a
moment.

He was a good-sized personage, attired in blue
broadcloth, with a white shirt and vest that were
immaculate and a silk hat upon his head, which
was closely barbered of hair.

Patent-leathers were upon his feet, and dia-
monds on his fingers, and shirt front: also a
massive gold chain was strung across his vest,
and a delicate rosebud on his coat lapel, added
to the ivory-headed cane he carried, gave to him
the appearance of a dandy.

His face was one that once seen, could not
soon beforgotten. It was a pale, intellectual
face belonging to a man of some forty-eight or
fifty years. The features were all perfect and
attractive, but in places were an expression of
past suffering. The c es were dark and sharp,
and the mouth firm, eing shaded bya heavy
iron-gra mustache; the hair upon his head was
pepper with silver, which was probably the
cause of his having had it sheared in the so-
styled “ fighting cut.”

In looking at him a moment, a person would not

perceive any difference in his eyes, but a second '

glance revealed that the left eye was artificial,
or in other words a “ watch-eye.” In some acci-
dent this natty stranger evidently had lost his
own eye, and had been obliged to fill the socket
with an artificial one.

None were there in the club-room, who knew

this flashy stranger, for they made no advances: .

to him, nor did he seem to be anxious to culti-
vate acquaintance.

Ho was accompanied by a young negro at-
tendant, who was attired in liver , and carried
a small leather valise. The two stood near the
counter, and watched the game, the master puff-
ing leisurely at a cigar, the while, and noting
the changes of luck, indifferently.

He seemed to be proof against the excitement
of the game.

“ One more card! one more card!" cried the
clerks. “Who will have it~who will have the
lucky numbers—90 to 100, and sure to win.”

The stranger nodded in answer to a glance
from his brown attendant. and taking a roll of
bills from his pocket purchased the card.

Then right merrily clanged the starter‘s bell,
and he gave the Wheel a swift whirl. Around
and around it spun, the snap-finger clattering
swiftly until the wheel began to slow down, and
finally stopped.

The finger pointed to 95!

Not a smile appeared upon'either the face of
Watch-Eye, or his attendant in consequence of
their success, but the latter coolly raked in the
ninety dollars and pocketed it, allowing the
clerk to take up his card and sell it to some one

else.

And that some one chanced to be Judge Ver—
millye, who eagerly received and paid for the
plug, confident that the next “pot” belonged
o m.

The cards sold rapidly, and a nod from Watch-
Eye caused the mulatto to purchase one num-

bering in the fifties. The reminder sold swiftly, _v
and at last the bell clanged, and the starter gave

the wheel a whirl.
“Fifty-five wins!” cried the starter, as the
Wheel stoppedwnd the quds were scarcely vet

Watch-Eye;

the Shadow; 1 1

 

of his mouth ere ninety dollars were placed in
the mulatto’s hands and the cards were selling
again.

Still not a trace of excitement or enthusiasm
appeared upon the faces of the stranger and his
attendant. They might have been supposed
stone images, so expressionless were they over
their luck.

Judge Vermillye was secretly chagrined; but
he did not allow the fact to come to the notice of
the others. For there were others who had lost
many times, when he had won.

The next round W'atch-Eye did not take a
hand, nor the next, nor the next, and the win-
ning was among men who had lost all the even-

m .

fiut the fourth round thereafter, a nod of his
head caused his servant to purchase a card, it
being numbered in the seventies.

Clang went the bell, and round spun the wheel,
sto in at seventy—one.

utc -Eye had won again!

That seemed but the starting-point, for he won
the next seven times in succession, to the aston-
ishment of all, the mulatto in each instance pur—
chasing cards at his master’s nod, and pocket-
ing the winnings, pausing occasionally to strike
a match, and hold it to the fore of a fresh im—
ported ci at in hismaster’s mouth. g

Altoget or there was something entirely novel
in the way the strange pair behaved, neither of
them speaking a word.

Mike Keene, a veteran in gambling, eyed
Watch-Eye sharply, seeming in some way sus—
picious of him.

Judge Vermillye, unable to Win since the
stranger’s advent, grew rather “ tonguey,” ven-
turing hard hints freely, and by numerous in-
nuen oes tried to arouse VVatch-Eye’s temper.

But this was futile, for VVatch-Eye—as the
crowd seemed unanimous in nicknaming the fel-
low—was evidently not easy to provoke, nor did
he seem to care to speak.

Determined at last to bring matters to a
crisis, Judge Vermillye approached him, and
gave him a slap upon the shoulder in a way he
would not have thought of doing had he not been
imbibing frequently from a “ quiet bottle,” usu-
ally kept in Mike Keene’s private closet.

atch—Eye wheeled around instantly, a look
of cool surprise upon his face.

“ Well?” he interrogated, haughtily.

“ Well!“ Judge Vermillye retorted with a
sneer. “ You seem to be somewhat on your
muscle at gaming. You esteem yourself a sharp
’uu, I calculate?”

“ I didn’t remark anything of the kind, did I?”
the other demanded. .

“ Well, n—no, but one would judge by the
style you put on that you imagine yourself a
person of some im rtance.”

“Suppose that do; what business is that
of yours?” the glass-eyed stranger again do»

mended.

“Well, I’ll show you if you give me any of
your insolence!” the judge cried, hotly. “Maybe
you don’t know who I am.”

A strange expression shot over the face of
Watch—Eye, as he gazed sternly at the insolent

banker
‘/‘Yes, I believe Ido know youi" he replied, a

great depth of meaning in his tone. “If Silas

Pry were hanged by the neck until dead, for all

his crimes, you would not be insulting our su-
riors at this minute. Remember! ou may
now me as Watch-Eye, the Shadow!”

And so saying, the stranger turned and saun—
tered from the room, accompanied by his ser—
vant leaving the bystanders in a maze of vague
wonderment, and J udge Vermillye suddenly
grown white with—shal we call it terror?

Evident it was that the two had some time
met, in a dark eventful past.

 

CHAPTER V.
vnaMILLYE’s VILLAINY.

NELLIE MORTON was a bound girl.

She had no parents, to her knowlcd e, and
none to care for her except the man w 0 held
himself as her master, and Jack Sphinx, who
had been her friend for several years.

Jared Ogglesby, her guardian, as it were, was
a. cruel, grasping, avaricious old wretch, who
hoarded his pennies with the closeness of a
miser, except when he wanted to satisfy his own
unnatural craving for liquor, when he was free
with his cash to a certain extent.

He was aggent for the row of tenement build-
ings for a lock upon the street on which he
lived, and was said to have money buried in
some of the cellars beneath the rookeries, or hid-
den in the decaying walls.

Concerning the truth of this report, no one
knew for certain, but certain it was that he had
enou h to keep his system soaked in bad li uor
all e the time, rendering him ugly, and a an-
gerous peison to be abroad. For he was malic-
ious in his hates and dislikes, and as deep 9.
schemer as ever hatched a vicious plot.

Everybody who had eyes, was well satisfied
that Nellie was in no way related to him, but he
had documents, all lelgally drawn up, witnessed
and signed, binding ellie Morton in his service
from infancy until twenty-one years of age.

So that the law supported him in claiming the
girl one might say, as his slave.

ellie worked in a eat factory during the
daytime, and often urin the night, but her
earnings always were eager y demanded by Ja-
red Ogglesby, and stored away with his other
hoards.

Then he abused and ill-treated her, and alto-
gether her life was one of constant dread, devoid
every ray of sunshine, except when a secret in-
terview with Jack served to cheer her out of the
gloomy life she was living.

Many little presents of money and other trink-
ets found their way to her, through the kindness
of Jack, but as she had little use for them she ‘
put them away out of the sight of Jared Oggles-

y. For when she was in need offmoney for
clothing she always kept it out of her earnings
even at the risk of his wrath, although her dress
Was never more than the plainest. ,

On the night subsequent to the events related
in the previous chapter, Nellie sat alone in the
main room of the suite occupied by herself and
Jared Ogglesby, engaged at sewing upon a plain
calico dress which 5 e wished to wear to the fac-
tory, on the morrow.

The hour was late, but this was not upcom.

 

 

 

1 2 Watch-Eye,

the Shadow.

 

men, for she often was obliged to sit up half of
the night to wait for Jared Ogglesby’s return,
as she was afraid to retire before he came, not
knowing in what condition he might return.

“I wish Jack were here!” she murmured,
wearin laying aside her work, and going to the
window w ich looked out into the narrow street.
“When he is near, I am not afraid. And, then,
he has not been to visit me in over a week.”

As she finished speaking a rap upon the door
caused her to start and tremble with fear and
up rehension.

but could it be?
Surely not Jack, or J arcd Ogglesby, for while
' the former hada peculiar knock, the latter never
paused to knock, or if the door was closed, he
genkerally manifested his presence by giving it a
lo .

Who then [could it be, unless some stranger
who was at the wrong (1001‘?

“Who is there?” she asked, approaching the
door without opening it.

“ pen, please; I am a friend. I have come
to await the return of Jared Ogglosby.”

Scarcely knowing what to do, under the cir-
cumstances, Nellie opened the door, and a man
onvelo in a heavy oil-cloth coat and cap, en-
tered t 0 room.

The moment he throw off his wrappings she
saw who it was.

It was J 11ng Felix Vermillyei

He smiled complacently, as he saw her look of
sur rise, and accepted an unoifered chair.

‘ Ha! ha! you reall seem surprised, my dear
Miss Morten,” he sai , in his most affable tone.
“ No doubt you were not expecting me, but you

see I had a little business with old Jared, and .

thought I might as well drop in and wait his re
turn. Feelin well this eve, I trust.”

“Yes, MI‘. crmillyol” Nellie replied, closing
the door, and dropping upon a chair near by.
Her tones were cold and unfriendly, and Ver-
millye, as sharp as pointed steel, could but be
aware of the fact.

“I am glad to hear it. I thought you were

' flockin palo as I passed through the factory to-

da .

{Y Pale from overwork, perhaps,” Nellie re-
plied, coldly. “ One cannot always drung and
assume a cheerful presence.”

“Very true. It often causes my heart to
ache, iss Morton, for the slender girls who
have to toil so faithfully in our great factories.
You, my dear, more than the rest, have I
noticed, together with the fact that you are too
well-bred and lady‘like to be a factory girl.
Miss Morton, how would you like to live in the
country—that is, as far out as Ardmore, on the
Pennsylvania Railroad?”

“ Sir? I do not understaan you!”

“Then let me ox lain. A few milesback from
Ardmore station Ip have a dairy farm, su crin-
tonded by an aged couple, who are not b essed
with chick nor child, and who want some city
young lady to come and stop with them. You,

think, would suit them, and the work for
you to do would be but trifling. I Wlll kee
you liberally supplied with mono , and—and— ’

Here the Judge suddenly pans .

Nellie had arisen to her feet, her face pale,
and her eyes flashing brightly,

“ Stop! stop, Judge Vermillyel” she cried, her
voice trembling, despite her efi‘orts to be calm.
“ You have gone far enough. Once before you
insulted me, sir, because you thought that, be-
ing in your emplpzy at the factory I would not
dare resent it. on found out your mistake,
and now, sir, I command you to leave the room,
befigo I call for help and have you thrown
on

“ You—~you have me thrown out? Ha! ha ha!
good joke, I’ll swear!” and the judge laughed,
mockingly. “ Why, Miss Morton, do you know
that I own this place and everything in it? I
should smile to see anybody put me out of my
own house. Come! come! now, there is no use
of you and I being at swords’ points, at all.
I admire you, and I am willing to do what is
fair.. You give me your heart and hand, and
I’ll make you Honorable Mrs. Judge Felix
Vermillye. New, what better oiI‘er do you
want, than that?”

Nellie shrunk back with a shudder.

doors, “ o, I command you!”

“And positively refuse. If I cannot pre-
vail upon you to accept a good offer, I will bar<
gain with old Jared Ogglcsby. I-Ic‘ll sell you,
I’ll bet!"

“Sell me!” Nellie gasped, in horror. “He
cannot! He dare not!”

“He can, and dare. You were a nameless
brat when he took you from an old sea—captain;
you were legally bound over to him, and he has
the ower to bind you over to me!” =

“ ed in Heaven help me, then!” Nellie
moaned, staggering back. “Beastly as Jared
Ogglesby is, he is not so great a villain as you,
Felix Vermillyc.”

By the way, how fares your gay lover, Sphinx?
A year ago I had the pleasure of discharging
him from my factory, for undue familiarity
with-J’ v

“Liar! base liar!” Nellie cried, her temper
now thoroughly aroused. “ You caused Jack’s
discharge because you knew he was my friend.

he is now on the detective force, where he can
confront villaiuy with a strong hand.”

“ Ohol he is, eh? \Vell, I wish him success.
But, now, as Jared does not return, I must bid
you adieu. I will call and renew our pleasant
visit at another time. A kiss, now, my dear,
and then I will be gone.”

He arose quickly from the chair, and sprung to-
ward hcr, catching her by the right arm. With a
low scream of atfright she struggled to get

ing‘ 1‘ round, shapely arm to the shoulder.

he accrdent revealed upon the arm, just
above'thc elbow, a livid scar upon the white
flesh, in the shape of a star. It was evidently
a birth-mark.

Judge Vermillye saw it, and suddenly released
her arm and stepped back with a gasp, his
breath coming and eing heavily, his eyes fast—
ened upon the soar in a sort of horrible fasci-
nation.

. “Curse youi”he gaspedhfiierspimtion start-
ing out upon his forehe —‘ curse you!
thought you were dead!”

 

“Go!” she said, still pointing toward the ‘

“Thanks for your compliment, my pert miss, ,

But it was a lucky day he left your employ, for '

away, and in so doing her sleeve tore open, bar-i -
e

*7.

 

Watch-Eye, the ShadoWa

13

 

Nellie shrunk back, not knowing what to
make of his strange words. She was aware
that her birth and infancy Were shrouded in
mystery, but she knew no more. Why did the
birth-mark visibly affect Judge ermillyo?
What did he know of her past—of her child-
hood—of the mystery obscuring her bab hood?

She could no conceive, and tremble as she
saw the strange, horrible passion that was
cree ing over the banker.

“ ies seize you !” he said, in a hoarse
voice. “ I supposed you dead, but here you are
a stumbling-block in my path. No! no! I’ll
tolerate no interference or usurpation after all
these years—no! a thousand times no! It is a
fortunate chance that-threw this scar before
my eyes. You are alone with me. No one
knows me in this locality. Swear that you will
marry me, and keep your mouth forever closed,
and that scar forever hidden—swear it, or by
the God who hears me speak, I will murder
you on the spot! Swear! swoarb all you hold
sacred in this life and the next. t is your only
salvation!”

He sprung toward her as he spoke, a long
dagger in his hand poised to strike.

he tried to elude him, but her limbs refused
to move, and with a low cry she staggered
against the wall and leaned there, with face as
pale as death, and eyes wild and distended.

“ Swear!” he cried hoarscly, seizing her arm
with a vise—like gripe, and raisin the knife
higher. “Swear to marry me, or will plunge
this dagger into your heart!”

“No, nol—nerer!” she gasped, shuddering,
expecting to feel the cold steel piercing her
breast—“ never 1”

But the knife struck not the promised blow.
It was suddenly torn from the infuriated would-
be murderer’s grasp, and he was hurled to the
floor with a crash that caused the floor and
Windows of the old tenement to clatter noisily.

Not stunned by the fall, Vermillye staggered
to his feet, but the strong arms of Jack
Sphinx again hurled him to the floor, and this
time he lay where he fell, in an insensible con-
dition.

“ 0h, Jack, you have killed him !" Nellie cried,
in alarm.

“No, but it’s a pity I didn’t!" the detective
growled. “I’ve a notion to finish the job, as
1 is.

“ Oh, no! no! don’t harm him more than you
have already. Please don’t, Jack!”

“ Then I won’t, Nellie dear. But I’ll assist his
nibs over to the Central station, or my name
ain’t Sphinx. Why, the accnrscd villain would
have murdered you in a second more, if I had
not arrived just in time!” ,

“Yes, but he could have killed me before I
would have promised to become his wife.”

“ 00d for you, my peerless! But I’ve got
him now just in the she. I’ve been wanting
him for some time. We’l see if some of his
murderous nature cannot be pruned down by
the law. ”

“ I Wouldn’t bring him into the police courts,
Jack, for it will only increase his enmity toward
you ” Nellie said, anxiously.
"‘ t it increase, peerless. ’Twixt you and
me, my head has been full of queer thoughts of

 

late, and strange suspicions about this man. He
is wealthy, and he is popular, but you take Jack
Sphinx’s word for it, he is a rascal. And your
Jack’s the lad as is going to keep a crow’s eye
on his future movements. Why was he about
to murder you, dear?”

Nellie related to her detective lover what is
already known to the reader, and Jack Sphinx
listened with knitted brows.

“There’s a mystery here,” he said, as she
concluded, “and into its depths I'm going to
penetrate, dear. It looks to me as if you were
in the way~as if there were roper in the
case, or—cri'me! So, my peer ess lit 9 waif,

on may turn out an heiress to a fortune, or at '

least, atitle. Stranger things have happened.
As for old Ogglcsby, he’s dead drunk in a low
groggery on Callowhill street, and won‘t be
home till morning. So you can retire without
fear of disturbance. I must now hunt up police
aid, and trot his honor off to the station.”

First handcuffing the prostrate judge, Jack
went in search of a policeman.

On his return with one, he found that the
prisoner had recovered consciousness, and was
cursing Nellie as freely as his breath would
permit.

Without parley, he was seized and hurried off,
Jack only pausing long enough to kiss Nellie,
and tell her to be oi‘ifgood cheer.

Although Judge ermillyo cursed and raved,
ho was obliged to marc along, for Jack
Sphinx never took hold of a man but what he
had to go.

Luckily for the judge’s pride it was late at
night and the streets were near] deserted, and
he saw no one that he knew or t at knew him,
save it were the officers pacing their beats or an
occasional belated laborer who had stayed up
too late with his toddy.

Into the Central station Judge Vermillye was
conducted, and Jack stated the charges against
him, after which he was remanded to a cell in
the jail until the morrow, when his hearing was
marked to come on, tenth in order of arrest.

At his request, however, the news was sent to
his daughter that she might be present with
funds for bai .

When the judge’s case came on in the morning
the court-room was crowded, and many of his
friends and acquaintances were present, which
was gall and wormwood to the haughty, proud
jud e.

'1‘ e prosecution was conducted by Jack
S hinx, detective, in a clear and concise manner.
11% stated how he had chanced to call upon Miss
Morton in the nick of time to prevent her being
murdered by the prisoner: how he had secured
lfiis arrest, and with the aid of an omcer, “ caged

im. ’

Nellie Morton was then called on to testify,
and related her story in a plain, truthful manner
that could but cause a good impression upon her
audience. She gave her testimony in accordance
with the facts stated by Jack.

Judge Vermillye offered no objection, and the
judge adjourned the case, releasing the prisoner
on bail, which was not hard to obtain, for Ver-
millye was a, popular man, and popular men
never lack friends.

So the judge went back to his home in a car~ ,

 

 

i4 Watchlfiye,

riage, with his aristocratic daughter, while Jack
Sphinx conducted Nellie back to her home.

“ I’m thwarted, this time,” he said, gloomily,
“ for that case will never be called on again, or
if it is, the jud e will allow Verniillye to wriggle
out of it, some ow. Money, you know, darling,
goes a great way, and he has more than enough
to buy off our courts. But never mind. I’ll nab
him, yet!”

Judge Vermillye rode home. .

As he was leaving the carriage before his own
residence, a passer-by brushed rudely against
him and a low voice said:

“ Beware! the law will not always be as leni-
ent with you as new!"

A curse escaped the banker’s lips, for he re-
cognized the same cool, inscrutable individual
he had met in Mike Keeue‘s Club—Watch-Eye,
the Shadowl

 

CHAPTER VI.
A BANK ROBBERY—GERALD TRACY'S RETURN.

YOU may not know, dear reader, but detec-
tives will tell you of a place where thefy do con-
gregate, to read, learn, and inquire. n Phila-
delphia, it is upon Walnut street, front room,
first flight.

A large- apartment, carpeted, and furnished
with easy—chairs, couches, tables and astove,
while the walls are literally covered with photo-
graphs and news per portraits of notorious
murderers, housc- reakers or cracksmen, petty
thieves, shop-lifters, and incendiaries.

Of course, being a “men’s” room, where the
tidying hand of a woman seldom reaches, the
place is not remarkable for its cleanliness or
order, and when occupied, as at present, by a
half dozen men, is generally enveloped in a fog
of tobacco and cigar smoke.

“ Here, in the ‘Quarters,’ we have an oppor-
tunityof gazing upon the features of several
well-known Quaker City Sleuths, all of whom
have won for themselves a name, and in many
cases, a nick-name, anion their fellows.

Half a dozen are distri utcd about the room;
let us notice them.

The elderly, well-dressed gentleman there by
the fire, is “ Colonel ” Browncll.

He has a fine head, a kindly face, and an in-
tellectual forehead; yet this quiet, unassuming
man ranks hi h in the profession, and those
long whiskers e wears so naturally can be re-
moved without the application of the razor, for
they are false.

That man playing with the long ears of a
hound, b the Window, is “Joe Ferret,” alias
Ransom cDonald. He is not generally known
as a detective, which adds to hisvalue as a
“ ferret. ” '

Harri Scott, yonder, is a railroad detective,
in \vhic line of the profession he is successful.
Then there is Pat Haines, Sam Sharp, “Mary”
\Vallace, and Hi Osgood, all of them to be de-
pended upon, when put upon a trail while
“Dr.” Danton, in the corner, yonder—t 0 man
with the gold-rimmed glasses, is a street-car
“spotter.” Jack Sphinx, new member comple-
tes the collection present, most of w om are
smoking and reading

Pipes are laid aside, heels lowered from pro-

the Shadow.
miscnous elevations, and newspapers dropped,
as the door is opened to admit—a woman.

Yes a genuine live Woman, enveloped in a
a cloak and Vail-trimmed hat.

Let me introduce you dear reader, to Kate
Carson-otherwise the “ Clipper.” She, too, is a

brethren.

A modest, quiet little woman she is, of some
twenty—four or five years, with a fair, pleasant
fac¢13, and eyes as black and bright as lumps of
con .

Every man arose and bowed respectfully on
her entrance, and Jack Sphinx handed her a
chair near the door.

“Thank you,” she said, in a pleasant voice, in
which there was a trifle of hesitation. “but I
didn’t come to stay.
the entleman known as Jack Sphinx.”

“ hat’s I, ma’am, at your service,” Jack
hastened to assure her. “lVish to see me in
private, I suppose.”

“ Not necessarily. All these gentlemen are de-
tectives, are they not?”

“They are, and I’ll guarantee they never
meddle with each other’s affairs, other than in
a helping way. State your case, and I will
give 'ou all attention.”

“ ell, within the last six months tlie~———
Bank, on -— street, has been robbed of sixty
thousand dollars of the money intrusted in its
care. Not only has the bank’s own pile been tam-
pered with, but the private safes and vaults of
depositors and renters have been relieved of
liberal sums.”

“Has this thing been going on any great
length of time, Miss Carson?”

“Six months or so, says the President, Mr.
Fowler. The robbery is done systematically,
either by some one in the employ of the bank,
or,some parties who have gained secret access to

“True enough. Have you taken the case,
then?”

“Yes, providing I can secure your help in
working;r it up. The chief of police recommend-
ed you, saying you might be able to help me.”

‘ That’s good of the chief. Of course Iam
willing to tender on my assistance, although I
am comparative y youn in the business. I
should like to see the PreSident of the bank.”

“Then we will call upon him. He wants the
case investigated at once, before the report of
the loss leaks out anion the depositors.”

Accordingly theg bot set out from the “ Quar-
ters” for the —— tank, which was some blocks
away.

Once upon the street, Kate Carson spoke not
concerning the case, nor did Jack, for they had
learned among the foremost things in their ex-
perience that a floating word upon the highway
IS liable to reach some person W o remembers it,
thinks over it. and finally arrives at a conclu<
sion. Conclusions are what detectives Spurn as
things unsafe to trust.

A short ride in the cars, and a short brisk
walk brought them to the bank in question, and
the ‘ Clipper,” as Kate Carson was familiar]
known, demanded to be shown to the President 3
private room.

 

detective, and as successful as any of her male '

I came to inquire after.

Thither they were conducted, the apartment V

being in the rear of the banking main, and fur-
nished with ele ant taste. ‘

Taking seats he tWO detectives waited, and in
the course of several minutes, President Fowler
was shown in.

He was a portly, intelligent-looking man, With
an honest face and kindly bearin ; his face was
covered with a sweepin bear , and his eyes
were clear and searching in their glance. .

He bowed pleasantly as he entered toKate,
who in turn introduced Jack.

The banker gazed at the young detective with
a keen glance.

“ This is the man you have chosen as your as‘
sistant, Miss Carson?” he interrogated, turning
to Clipper Kate.

“It is, sir. Mr. Sphinx was recommended to
me by the chief of lice.”

“ Perhaps he Will do as well as any other.
Have you any questions to ask, Mr. Sphinx?
All detectives generally have.”

“ Yes, a few,” Jack re lied, tersely, not at all
disconcerted by the ba er’s tones. “Let me
have a sheet of paper to jot down an occasional
item on. That’s it, thanks. Now, you I suppose
are the president of this bank?”

“ I am, sir.”

“ Who is vice-president?”

“ Honorable Felix Vermillye.”

Jack ave vent to a little whistle of surprise,
and m e a memorandum upon his paper.

President Fowler looked annoyed.

“ Your whistle would go to show that you
think Judge Vermillye is a man to be classed
among the suspicious, eh?” he demanded, sharply.

“ In my business, sir, no man, be he saint or
sinner, is beneath my notice, I allow!” Jack re-
plied, evasively. “ Who are the directors,
please?”

President Fowler named them, and Jack jetted
down their names and residences.

“Are they in the secret of this robbery?” he
next asked. '

“The are, most assuredly.”

” An the vice—president?”

“ He is. Why?” '

“Nothing. Only thought I’d ask. Who are
the tellers?”

‘f Jackson Way is the receiving-teller, and
Phili Rossmere, the paying-clerk.”

“ one others have the handling of money——
none of the book-kee rs?”

“ Not to our know edge. Jud e Vermillye has
the ,yvhole supervision of the ks under his
eye.

“You look them over, too, I dare say?”

“ Certainly, sir.”

“ Ever find anythin wrong?”

“No, sir. Books 0. K.”

“ Do you ever entertain visitors in the bank,
or admit others than employees behind the
grates?”

“ Miss Vermillye occasionally favors us with a
call; also my Wife and daughter.”

“ Call in this Way and Rossmere, please. I
can tell you if they are men.”

President Fowler touched a call-bell, and the
two tellers were ushered in at his request.

“ Mews. Way and Rossmere,” he said, “ allow
me to make you acquainted with Miss Carson,
detective—ditto, Mr. Jack Sphinx.”

Watch-Eye. the Shadow.

 

15

The two men acknowledged the introduction
with bows, and were seated.

Jack Sphinx gazed at them inapeculiar, scruo
tinizing way, then turned to the president.

“You may dismiss the gentlemen,” he said,
calmly. ‘f I have done with them.”

Which Mr. Fowler did, with a bow, and they
quitted the room.

“Well?” he demanded, after they had gone,
“ what is your decision?”

“ It is reserved, at resent. I should like you
to show me through t e bank, and the safes and
vaults to see if they’ve been tampered with yet.
The rest, Miss Carson and I wil work out our-
selves.”

Their request was granted, and they were
shown through the entire building from
ment to garret by the resident in person.

Jack and Clipper ate each used their eyes
sharply, and at last every portion and a art-
ment had been shown them, and they out
onto the street, through the bank.

Jud eVermillye was engaged in writing on
one o the desks, and retended not to notice
them, but Jack Sphinx ew that he was aware
of their presence.

Out in the street, once more, Jack turned to
Clipger Kate, influiringly:

‘ on may ca upon me, at your leisure, and
we will com are notes and opinions. Two heads
are better 1: an one, they say, and perhaps we
may strike a lead. I live at —, Spring Garden
street, up—stairs.”

“ Very well. Look for me at almost any hour
during the evening.”

They parted then, Kate going into market
street, and Jack into Chestnut, where he saun-
tered idly along, his thoughts busied with other
matters than the gay whirl of life around him.

“Let me see,” he mused. “ Today is the re-
lease—day of Eurastus Racket from the Ine-
briates’ Home. I wonder what effect the ear
has had upon him, poor fellow? I promised el~
lie I’d 100 after him occasionally, and here I’ve
not been near the place, since the morning I
procured his admission. I believe I’ll go and
find him now.”

To think was action with Jack Sphinx, and he
accordingly set out for the Inebriates’ Home.

On his arrival, he was shown into the super-
intendent’s reception room, and direct] waited
upon by the doctor in person—~a gray— carded,
kindly-faced elderly gentleman, neatly but not
richly dressed.

“Dr. Mason, I believe?” Jack said.

“ The same, sir. Your name is—?”

“ Jack Sphinx, detective, at our service. A
little overa year ago I broug t a r fellow
here for treatment, and it occurre _to me to-
day, that I’d better call around and mquire af-
ter his welfare and condition.”

“A ear 3. o—let me See,” the doctor said,
musing y. “%Vhy, that must have been the
man, Racket?” .

“The same—Eurastus Rackei ."

“ Ha! ha! he was a strange fellow, ’pon my
soul. At first he was quite sick, what with a
running eye and craving for strong drink. But
we soon had the eye out and a new one in its
place, and in six months the taste-or smell of

'quor was nauseating and. disgusting to him.

a

 

 

16

He improved rapidity",a and our drunken vaga-
bond turned out to a gentleman of culture
and intelligence, who evidently had seen better
days in a past which he was careful not to
speak. The last two months of his stay, be de-
livered some excellent lectures on Temperance
to the inmates of our as lum, and made a deep
impression upon them. tried to revail upon
him to remain longer, but he won] not, claim-
ing that he had a great wrong which must be
righted. I expect he has been greatly sinned
against, in the past, and is now about to fight to
the bitter end, for his rights.”

“Then he is not here!” Jack asked, disap-

inted.

“ No; he took leave of us several days a 0.
He often spoke of you and a young lady called
Nellie an wished he could see you. ’

80 Jack was obliged to take his departure,
without finding out any more concerning the
tramp. __

Judge Vermillye dined at three, as a usual
thin , but to-day a pressure of business detained
him ater, so that it was nearly dark ere he left
the carriage in front of his own mansion and ran
up the steps.

Miss Beatrice and Marquis De Haven were
amusinithemselves at the piano in the grand
parlor, ut, instead of stopping, the banker ran
tip-stairs to his suite of rooms, making his toilet
in his elegantly-ap inted boudoir, and then en-
tering his grand li rary.

He started back with an oath as he did so for
a man was seated in one of the judge’s own lux-
urious] —upholstered arm-chairs, with his feet
perc up against the book-case, engaged in
smoking a cigar.

He condescended to lower his feet 11 n the
judge’s entrance, and arise from the chair, with
a bow, after which he resumed his seat.

Vermillye uttered another oath.

The man was Watch-Eye, the Shadow.

" You here I” the banker cried, a spice of
threat in his tones. “ What fetched you here,
sir, in my private office, at that?”

“My limbs assisted me here, if I remember
correctly” Watch-Eye replied, coolly. “Be
seated, udge Vermillye, instead of working

ourself into needless passion. I want to have a
'ttle private talk with you, you see.”

The banker drop ed into a chair, his face
Iown a shade whi , and a strange glitter in

8 es.
“VYell?” he said, interrogatively, “ I am lis~
teneiailf to what you‘may have to say. Go
ah I,

“ Yes. Allow me to offer you a cigar first, as
it improvesaman’s memory, and I desire that
yours shall be very good, upon this occasion,you
see. What! don‘t smoke?”

“ Not with you, sir. Go on with what you have

to sag." .

“ my well. To open matters in a business-
like way, just cast your mind and memory back
for a period of nineteen years, to a certain 10th
32%;, May. Where were you upon this day and

“ In Philadelphia, sir, doubtless, as I have
never been be end a radius of a few miles from
the city,” J unge Vermillye replied, calmly.

 

Watch-Eye. the Shadow;

“ You are sure you were in Philadelphia nine-
teen Ziears ago today?” Watch-Eye demanded,
watc 'ng his honor keenly.

“ uite sure I” the banker replied.

“ ou have no recollection, then, whatever,
of a little transaction which occurred in Balti-
more, on said day, in the office of one Silas Pry,
money-lender—a case wherein said Pry in con-
sideration of a mort age given upon a éouthern
plantation know as iverdale, by the heir and
owner, Gerald Tracy, paid into said Tracy’s
hands the sum of fifty thousand dollars?”

“ You speak in riddles, sir,” Judge Vermillye
replied, haughtily. “I know nothing concern-
ing the transaction of which you speak, neither
was I ever in the ci of Baltimore!"

“ You lie, sir I” atch-Eye hissed, turning
fierce] upon the banker.

“ hat! What!” and the 'udge, springing to
his feet reached for the bell— dle. “ on give
me the lie, sir? You villain, I’ll have you kicked
from m housel"

But etch-Eye sprung and hurled him back.

“ You lie, Silas Pry!” he repeated. “ You lie
and I know it—lmow you, for I am Gerald
Tracy I"

 

CHAPTER VII.

VERMILLYE HOLDS THE STRONGEST HAND.

“GERALD TRACY!” the banker repeated, his
face assuming a grayish pallor—“ you, Gerald
Tree 1” I

“ he same, alive and well, thank God,” the
Shadow-Detective said, triumphantly.

“ Sit down, Silas Pry, alias Judge Vermillye,
and hear me out. I know you, even under your
high-sounding exchange of cognomen. You also
know me but not so much of me as you will di-
rectly. éiit down, while I rehearse ou a little
story. It is very beautiful and pat etic in its
everyday occurrences—almost like you will read
of in Sunday-school books!”

The sarcasm in the man’s tones so affected
Vermillye, that he dropped into a chair, his
teeth closing with a click, and his hand involun-
tarfly nearing a hip pocket.

“ Oh! you needn’t mind the weapon,” the
Shadow said, coolly; “ it is not necessary, for
are you could draw it, I can put a half a dozen
bullets through you. I long ago learned the art
of quick trigger for such occasions as this.

“ BNut to return to myolgtle i‘omaiigg in real
life. ineteen years 0 a , a i to on
for a loan of moneyfgl had been gfving high,
and not only used up my own ready cash, but
in a blind moment appropriated fifty thousan
dollars of the bank’s cash, where I was employ—V
ed. Discovery followed, and I was offered a
chance to redeem myself and save disgrace and
imprisonment, by returning the money I had
appropriated. .

In this desperate strait I came to you, whom
I knew to be a money-lender, and tried to bor-
row the sum. You were willing to lend me the
fifty thousand, providing I would give on a’
mortgage on my southern estate, Riverda e, for
the amount of seventy-five thousand dollars.
was forced to accept your hoggish terms; I gave ‘
the mortgage, received the money, paid it over
to a detective in your presence, and took my de-

parture.

Watch-fiye, the Shadow. if

 

“ I had been ordered by my employers to leave
the country for five years and I resolved to seek
the far-western gold fields, to dig out of the
earth riches enough to redeem Riverdale.

“ And according to my resolution I im-
mediately took my departure from Baltimore,
for the West. In bidding adieu to the East, I
left behind me a little babe, and a wife, in
Washington, dependent upon my wife’s needle—
labor for support. I had written to them, ex-
gaining all, and iromising a, speedy return.

11 reaching the est, I wrote them several
letters, but got no answer. Again and again I
wrote, but still no answer came from my loved

ones.

“ At last I despa'red of hearing from them—
God forgive me, but I believed that my wife
had turned from me, because of the social down-
fall I had caused her, and had returned to her
people. I , . ’
“So Silas Pry, I slaved on in the mines.
More t an a score of times did I face death, and
narrowly esca it. I learned at last that my
enemies were ut tools in your hands, that you
were plotting away my life, that I might never
return to pay off the mortgage. For ten years
I battled with and baffled your bull-dogs; then
the?r disappeared, and I was troubled no more.

‘ Over a year ago, I returned to Baltimore
and Washin n, in search of you and my
family. In altimore I learned that you had
years before left that Iplace, and returned to

hiladelphia, which, if remember right, is the
oil: of your birth. On inquiring after River-

e, I learned that it had trebled in value in
the last eighteen years, and was worth at least
avcouple o hundred thousand dollars, being in
close proximity to the city.

“ I then set out for Washington, and there re-
ceived the worst blow of all. My wife had mar-
ried one Judge Vermillye only a few years after
my departure and had since er marriage sud‘
denly died. 01’ my child I could find no trace
——-no word—nothing! She was dead or lost—re-
search disclosed no facts concerning her after
my departure for the West.

“These discoveries disheartened me, for what
had I to live for?—aud I took excessively to
strong drink; I became a drunkard, a sot,ua
tramp, on the face of God’s footstool. No one
knew‘ me, no one cared for me—and I was happy
only in my cups.

_ ‘ A year ago, Silas Pry, I entered this man-
sion, when it was a scene of festivity upon the
occasxon of a party. You had me unceremoni-
ously thrown out, and even sent a tool of ours
after me, to end‘my miserable career. me-
how he failed to complete his task, and I was
picked up and cared for. You see my left
eye is a game eye. I owe the loss of the optic
to you, but I love you so much that I can well
afford to forgive you—oh! yes. As Iwas say-
in , I was picked up and cared for—was even
in uced to enter an inebriate asylum, to get
cured of my a petite for strong drink. I went
and was cured). You see me are before you,
to—day, Silas Pry, ready to redeem that mort—
gage on Riverdale—dyou see me here before you,
a_free man, able an willing to fight you to the
bitter end !”

There was a dead silence in the room as Ger—

 

ald Tracy finished speaking, and both men sat
glaring at each other in a way that was evidence
that they had no love for each other-that they
were destined to be deadly foes, foes from now
on to the end.

Judge Vermillye, spoke at last, a cold, devilish
smile upon his face.

“ I: have heard you through Gerald Tracy,
and, now, tell me, if you please, how are you go-
ing to prove my identity with Silas Pry, of nine—
teen Eyears agfi ?”

“ asily. ut that has nothing to do with
my present business here. Be you Silas Pry,
Judge Vermillye, or the devil, you have a mort-
gagfef a’gainst Riverdale, and I have come to pay
it o .

“Have you ever thought how much you owe
me then?” the banker demanded.

‘ Yes, I have been figurin it over and over
for nineteen years—J ought know, certainly.
One hundred and sixty thousand five hundred
dollars, is every cent I owe you.”

And are you ready to settle this claim,
now?” ~

“I am. My nineteen years of banishment
have not been spent idly, and I can no doubt
pa off several such mortgages.”

udge Vermillye arose an paced to and fro,
his eyes fixed upon the carpet, a terrible glitter
in them.

He was struggling with an evil and a good
spirit.

Should he yield up Riverdale, with all its
wealth and beauties, or should he turn and
Smite down this claimant as he had the power to

o?

No! he would not yield, after all these years of
triumph—he would not ield and allow Gerald
Tracy the satisfaction 0 a single triumph. He
would fight with the aid of the Evil One—fight
as man never fought before—and win!

He felt sure that he would win.

“ Gerald Tracyl” he said, pausing before the
returned wanderer—“ Gerald Tracy, you are
reckoning without our host, in coming back
here to claim that w ich was once yours. You

are confident that by shrewd perception you 

have turned the tables upon me, but let me dis-
pelthis idea. The mortgage shall be foreclosed,
and Riverdale is mine. defy you to get it
awa from me. Try it if you think ou can,
and will have you arrested and cast in prison
before the sun sets to-morrow. Hal ha! you’ll
find that Silas Pry still holds the winning
hand!”

Tracy’s turn it was now to be surprised.

“ You have me arrested!” he gasped. “ You
have me arrested? Explain yourself—what have
I ever done to you?" r

“Nothing particularly to me, my dear Tracy,
but you see, there is a ittle charge against you
up in Washington, which remains unsettled
from nineteen years ago—a mere, trifling mat-
ter, but sufficiently criminal to cause your ar-
rest and imprisonment for a number of years to

come. Cause ?——ohl a small theft from the bank, I

I behave, of some fifty thousand dollars!”
And the villain laughed, satiri ll .
As for Gerald Tracy, he stagge
the whole damnable plot bursting upon his 
with the closing words of his enemy.

afi‘rflefiaifie Awareness .

to his feet /

33.:2111‘?"’

Eve‘s: re. s “is '

"W?fiirfi¢¢§§k3§' ‘a- "

i§€g§3fim’3‘5“ ‘W’ "

,Féw‘j‘i‘liiQEYT-fii'“

' {1‘3}???

' « '3 “viz:

 

18

“ Whatl What is this you would say?” he
gasped, his face deadly white, his one eye seem-
ing to blaze, his whole brain seeming on fire——
“ was not the money I gave the detective paid
the bank, in Washington?”

“It was not I" Judge Vermillye said, with
triumphant emphasis—“ it never saw the inside
of that Washington bank, I dare say—certain-
ly not to pay ofl.’ your indebtedness. It of
course was all owing to my shrewdness. If you
had been a. mouse in my office nineteen years
ago to—day, after you had taken your departure
you might have overheard or witnessed a bar-
gain between myself and the detective, Mc-
Quaver, wherein we were to equally share the
'fifty thousand dollars, and he was to make pre~
tense of continuing the search for you in behalf
of the bank, but was in reality to find and put
you forever out of the way, whereupon I was
:20 pay him an additional ten thousand dol-
are!

“My God! man I never deemed you such a
villain!" the Shadow gasped, in righteous hor—
ror.

“ No one else did,” the banker replied coolly.
“A smooth face, a smoother tongue, and scru-
pulous honesty in all my dealings, has won me
the reputation of being a square man.”

Gerald Trac groaned aloud, as he sat with
bowed head, is eye riveted upon the carpet.
He was no fool not to see that he was complete—
ly in the power of one of the most devilish of
all schemers. He knew that Silas Pry had mat-
ters all in his own hands, if it were as he said. ,

“ Well 3” he demanded, interrogatively, “ what
do you intend to do?”

‘ I intend to use my power over you to the
fullest extent, providing you make any stir.
You are a thief to-day as you were nineteen
years ago. In the hands of the chief of police
at Washington lies a warrant for your arrest
on the charge of bank robberg. Dare but to
annoy me again and you sha suffer the full
penalty for your crime.”

“ And you—you mean to hold Riverdale?”

“ Yes. I shall foreclose the mortgage at once
and sell the lace to et back my money and
the interest t ereon. f it goes for two hundred
- thousand dollars, let it go. If for less, I shall
buy it in, and pay whatever it sells for, above
my claim."

‘But you cannot keep over the amount due
you on the mortgage?” ‘

“ No, probably not, for the bank stands ready
to claim any amount it may bring upon my
claims.”

“ Then, I have no claim whatever?"

“None, whatever. Your only plan of safety
is to lay low, as every thief does. If you come
forward to oppose the foreclosure of the mort-
gage, your fate is sealed. OR to prison you go,
as ast as justice can carry you."

“But you are counting it all ainst me. I
have a. few points against you. have your
own confession of all your villainy, which would
lower your high head, somewhat, when taken
into court. Besides, there’s a charge against
you, in court, now for attempted murder.”

Felix Vermillye smiled, villainously, and
snapped his fingers.

“A fig for the latter case, while of the former

v

 

Watch-Eye. the Shadow.

you have no proof. We are alone. No one has
overheard us. My word in law would stand
better than yours, for you are a thief!”

The next minute the banker regretted his
hasty speech for Gerald Tracy leaped suddenv
1 from his c 'r upon him, and grasped him by
t e throat.

“Curse you!" he gritted, his face livid with
passion, “ you have said that thin once too
many times. Do our worst! I ef you——
doublg,r defy you. aware! With ’5 aid I
will ght you, Silas Fry, and if I am beaten.
I’ll break every bone in your body if I hang for
it the next minute. Beware, I say] A des r—
ate man has no mercy upon a foe, and I s all
have none upon you—to baffle and dis ace ou
to that extent that you will gladly see deat in
preference to a miserable existence. I go now,
but on have not seen the last of me. A very
fien in my pursuit of revenge, I will hunt you
down to a pauper’s gravel"

During his wild, excited speech the returned
wanderer had ti htened his grip about Vermill-
ye’s throat until '5 eyes protruded from their
sockets, and his toggue hung from his mouth.

And as he finish ,he raised the portly banker
from the floor, bodily, b the powerful strength
of his arms, and hurled im half—way across the
room. He struck the floor with acrash, and lay
there, quivering, his senses having deserted him.

“ Lie there, you accursed villain. and taste the
beginning bitterness of my battle with you!”
Tracy gritted, as he seized his hat, and stole
from the house.

It was some time before the stricken banker
could be called back to consciousness by the ser-
vants who had seen him through the open door,
living prone on the floor, soon after the Shadow’s

e

rture.

glahen he finally did recover his senses, he per-
emptorin dismissed them all and remained in
his library for some time before going out for
his usual evening in town.

He was very sore from this fall, but was more
sore in temper than in body.

“Curses take the fellow,” he growled, as he
paced to and fro through his elegant library, “he
was as savage as a tiger. He said he was des-

emte, and I am of the opinion that he was.

9 bade me beware. Yes, Gerald Tracy, I will
beware. I’ll cage on where you can do no
harm, and that era ong. You are too danger-
ous a stumbling—block to lie in my th. I’ll see
that you are removed. And then ’11 foreclose
the mortgage on the southern plantation and.
pocket the cash.

“ A snug little investment, that was, after all.
Twenty-five thousand for the use of fifty a. mat-
ter of nineteen years, and then the interest
amounts to a hundred and sixty and five hun-
dred more. Ha! ha! ha! I cou d not have done
better had I leased the money b ieces. For
Riverdale is surely mine, now, an t t is worth
two hundred thousand, at least, though at auc-
tion sale I .will chance its running above a hun-
dred and fifty thousand. So much for our
scheming, Silas Pry. But, another bit of evil-
try remains for you, and that is to get possession
of Gerald Tracy’s wealth. Get it I must, or he
Will beat me at my own game. And mbfing

instead of outright theft must be 1: way of

 

 

Watch-Eye. the ghadow. . V 19

 

reachin him. There is a man here, who they
say can at the best, and if he is not possessed
of too conscientious samples he is myhuckleber—
ry. I will go and sound his depths.”

 

CHAPTER VIII.
A SURPRISE—TWO ROGUES MEET—CAGED.

THAT evening Jack Sphinx called upon Miss
Kate Carson. at her residence in S ring Garden
street. It was a cosey little two-story ck cottage.
in the heart of the city. surrounded by many others
greater in size and more imposing.

A little yard in front was inclosed by an iron fence,
and under cultivation as a flower arden.

Upon ringing at the door, Jac was shown in
through a hall to a little reception parlor, by a neat,
firetty servant girl, where he was informed Miss

ate would presently join him.

The parlor was furnished after a neat but inex-
Ecnsive fashion, with a bright crimson carpet, up-

olstered furniture, an upright piano, and, a few
modest pictures and paintings upon the walls. Then.
there were numerous little nicknacks which served to
1ziclogn, all of which betrayed the skill of a woman‘s

an .

Jack Sphinx had not been seated long,when a door
opened, and “Clip er Kate " entered. She was at-
tired in a loose toi et wrapper, rettily set off with
ribbon bows; spotless linen on s and collar. and a
handsome gold chain about her neck reachingto her
watch-pocket.

Her hair was arranged becomiugly. and altogether
she appeared to great advantage, despite the fact
that no one could have called her handsome.

She bowed with a smile, as she saw Jack. and seat-
ing herself, at once opened up on the subject of the
interview.

“ Well, Mr. Sphinx, who do you think is the bank
robber?"

“ I haven’t made any direct decision, yet, Miss
Carson. I have been waiting to catch your ideas,
b‘efore allowing my crude experience to form into
thought."

"Well, I can soon tell you my judgment in the
matter. There are two buildings built against
the bank—one upon the east and one upon the west
Side. The first named is occupied as a clothing
store, and the latter as a pawnbroker’s establish
ment. The latter is kept by one of that much-abus~
ed_ race known as Jews. Now, in my estimation,
this robbery is done either by parties who have ac—
cess to the interior of the bank through one of these
side buildings, or by some one in the employ of the
bank, who has charge of or access to the vaults of
the company in that direction."

" Well, which do you think most probable?"

“ The latter."

“And who the person or persons?" _

“ I don’t know. That is for you and I to determine

between ourselves. You questioned President Fow« ‘

ler concerning this man Vermillye, rather sharply, I
took note.”

“ Yes. I did. My opinion of the man is‘not favor-
able, to say the most. albeit he may be mnocent of
comfilicity in the robbery.“ .

“ 8 may and may’not. Did you discover any-
Ehinlgwparticular, while being shown through the

an

“ No, nothing. My eyes failed to see anything out
of order."

“My eyes, then. are a trifle sharper than yours.
See here. what I picked up, will you, ‘ and she held
up a watch-key with a low laugh. ‘

Jack Sphinx took it and glanced it over sharply.
It was a patented kev, arlng the patent mark, and
the name of Jay Walterbrooke, Jeweler.

“Where did you find this. Miss Carson?”

“ Upon the basement bottom. when we were visit-
ing the vaults."

 

“Whom does it belong to?"

“I know that no more than you. I picked it up,
thinkin it inightbe useful."

“An so It may. But. now, we must dig in at the
root of this matter. I have my suspicions firmly
fixed upon J udie Vermillye. as being the depredator.
but of course ave no definite proof—no clew on
which to cause his arrest. What course do you ad-
vise? '

“I have been thinking of one, which may pan out

as important results as any other. and that is for us
to conceal ourselves in the bank at night, and learn
what we can.

“ Will the President allow this?”

“ It I ask him, yes. If you will kindly wait here a
few moments. I will go to his residence, half a block
above. and ascertain.“

Jack assented. and during her absence whiled
away the time in looking over some hroks which lay
upon the center-table. She Was not one long, he
thought, when he heard her re-enter t e house, and
she came tripping into the parlor.

\_
“I have triumphed, my dear S hinx," she said,“

holding up a bunch of keys. “I ave got a set of
duplicates to every lock in the bank building. Now
we will go and make a. night of watching of it. Are
you properlyarmed? You know it is over well to be
pro ared.”

“ e, I am ‘ heeled.‘ “ Jack replied, with a smile.
“ But in case we can get into the bank, will not the
watchman along that beat raise a rocket, and arrest
us for the genuine bank robbers?"

“I uess not. when we show our had es. Do \ on

g g 3’
know the, policeman on that beat ma;7 be the very
chag who knows all about this robbery "

“ uch a thing might be, and in that case, he, even.
must not know of our presence in the bank.”

" Right. We must watch our chance, and get in
on the sly, or else we’ll see no robbers to-night. Ten
to one we shall not, anyhow."

Kate Carson wrapped herself in a heavy water.
proof and hat; then they took their departure to
ward. the bank.

On arrive] there they had no 'trouble in gainin

an easy entrance without being disturbed or noti . V“ ‘-

Passing through the banking-room, Kate unlocked
a door and they stepped into—the presence of half a
dozen of armed, masked men who instantly “cov-

ered” the two detectives with gleaming- revolvers

that were cooked with an ominous click! click]

Judge Vermillye left his own mansion. after re-
ceiving the harsh treatment at the hands of Watch-
Eye, and hurried into town. Nor did he pause until
he reached Nash‘s restaurant. where he partook of
a goodly-sized meal of choice viands, the whole
washed down with a bottle of chem agne.

Then came a choice cigar, when t e banker arose
to leave the place. Ashe did so, he saw aportly,
pursy individual, who, from his dress and manners,
might have been mistaken fora statesman, or the
firesident of a corporation, just entering the door.

is coming: seemed to affect the banker strangely,
for he sunk backu on his chair, and gazed at the
new-comer speech see with surprise.

A smooth, fat face had this fellow, and he was
dressed in the hi ht of fashion—black eves gleamed
from his head, owever, and Judge Vermillye re-
membered the face.

As the stranger was (passing, the judge touched
him upon the arm. an then made room for
upon an adjoining chair.

“Sit down here." he said, in answer to the fel-
low‘s look of surprise; “ sit down here, I know you.
I want to speak with you."

“Know me! Well. guess you've mistaken your
man!" the otherre lied. looking the judge over,
with a. criticising 3 shoe. “,1 am but recently in
these parts."

'

“Some foreign dignitaryl dare say, then!" Vere -

millye re lied, sarcasm in his tones. “An emperor,
cmbassa or, or mayhap a nobleman."

 a .»-= :r.;.«--;.~::‘>:*:av1+ssv%-e..<

’5 il‘f’fit's ’. ‘5- L ‘j  <

 

are an» n :1 no:  own;

or ink fame “'v mm;

 

 

$0 r . Watch-Eye; the Shadow.

 

The man uttered a grow], and then turned square-
ly upon the judge. ‘

“Who are you?” he demanded, surlily.

T e 'udge smiled, crafti y.

“ s it possible that you how: for otten your old
friends so soon?” he said. “I shou d have known
you had I seen 1you sitting u on o king’s throne. M
name is Vermil ye, sir, alias ‘ilss Pry. Yours is B’ l
McQuaver, alias what?”

The fat gentleman started angrily.

“You liel I am not Mcguaverl" he replied.

“You are," the judge eclared. “ Comel come]
no more denial now, but go on and tell me where
you have been, since eighteen years ago.”

“ Well, since you won’t take no for an answer, let’s
step into the theater below here, and secure a box,
where we can talk unmolested and unheard. What
do you say?"

“ Lead ahead. Just as you sayl” '

Inside of ten minutes thefi‘occu pied a proscenium
box at the Chestnut Street heater.

“ As I was saying,” the judge remarked, by way
of opening the conversation, “ I should like to know
where you have been durin the last nineteen years.
Here ou come back dressing and looking like the
presi ent of some great corporation, and putting on
as much style as though you were worth half a
million insteadof being Bill McQuaver, a runaway
detective.” '

‘,‘ My name is Right Honorable David Thurston, at
' ivqour servicel” the ex-detective replied, grimly. “I

ave been around the world since I saw you last
and, as you suggested, am worth half a million 0
dollars.’

“How did you summon up sufficient coura e to
come back into the States, when such areward sset
upon your head?"

“A reward upon my head?"

“Certainly —— for feloniously appro riating the
‘money paid you by Gerald Tracy on leaving for
parts unknown."

“ The deuce, ou sayl"

“Yes. The c urge stands against you, and I saw
a policeman eying you, a bit ago, or I shouldn’t have
called on here.”

“ Bu you took the larger share of the mono . Be
sides, you owe me ten thousand dollars, for t at job
against Tracy.”

“ Who is alive and well, to~dav l"

" Not by a long sight. I at him four times

,through the heart, an saw his body covered over
with‘ six feet of ground."

“Are you lying to me?"

I“ Upon honor, it is as I’ve told you."

“Then he has the nine lives of a cat, for certain it

’ is that he has returned, and threatens to make trou-
ble in camp. You must silence him, forever I"
“I must ” v
“ You must. If on refuse. I‘ll hand you over to
. the law as the t is! who ran 01! with the bank
mono ."

The eat-detective uttered an inaudible curse. and
glanced nervously around.

He evidently had a dread of arrest.

5 “ Curse on. What do you want me to do with
him?" he emanded, “ and what will ye do after I do
get rid of him?"

“You can take your own remedy,“ the jud c said,
coolly. “ I am not particular as to the met od, so
10 suit is effective. After the job's done, my lips
s be sealed as to your past, [and you shall have

I the money."

“ You remiss this 7"

"A , swear to it, if necessary."

“ here is this Gerald Tracy?"

“ You must find him. Some call him Watch-Eye,
because one of his eyes is a glass eye."

“ I will find him. And I’ll use a remedy that won't
fall this time."

ghortly after this the two se rated, McQuaver
Elaing‘toward the upper part of t e city, and Judge

ermillye in the direction of. the wharves.

 

\

“Gerald Tracy‘s doom is scaled,” he muttered, a
horrible glitter in his eyes, as he moved along. “I
shall be rid of him; McQuaver fairly upon his track
he is a dead man—sure. Then. only a row remnants
of a dark past lie in my way, and t ey can easily be
removed. McQuaver himself for one; Jared Oggles-
by for another. The girl, Nellie Morton, and tho fel-
low Sphinx may give me trouble, unless I can quiet
them, somehow. I think I can fix all these things to
suit me.

 

It was an unexpected situation that Kate and Jack
found themselves placed in, for they had not calcu-
lated upon being surprised in highway robbery
fashion within the very walls of the bank, where
they had come to lie in wait for stealthy criminals.
Instead, they were now confronted by a half—dozen
masked fellows, all enveloped in hooded oil-cloth
coats, and armed with the revolvers which they
leveled so suddenly upon the detectives. that neither
had an opportunity to draw a weapon, ere they were
“ covered.”

“You may as well surrender, and take matters
rationally,” one man said, stepping forward, ap n,-
rently to distinguish himself as leader. “You vs
fallen into the trap you had prepared for us, and we
shall see that you don’t trouble us.” ,

“What do you mean?”Jack demanded. “It is
you who had better surrender, as you can never es-
cape from this place alive. It is surrounded.”

“A clever lie, but it avails on little," the leader
replied, with a sarcastic chuc 1e. “ Were there ten
thousand men on the outside they could not prevent
our leaving this bank. Come, hand over your wea-
pons. It’s your only choice.”

Jack turned to Miss Carson, inquiringly, and she
nodded her head.

“ It is no use to resist. So let them do as they will,
and we will work afterward.”

“You will, will on?” the leader said, craftily.
“Ohl es, no don t. Seize them, boys; and bind
their ands behind their backs, and’ blindfold
them."

This was done, and as resistance seemed useless,
under the' circumstances, the detectives submit-
ted, without knowing what fate was in store for

hem.

When they were secured according to the captain‘s
orders, the were forced to walk forward through a
number 0 rooms, and finally down-stairs into the
bank.

Here they paused.

“ You are In the basement of the bank, where all
the money is stored. You seldom visit the place,
while we visit it often. I shall now extract a thou-
sand dollars from the fund. Then you shall be taken
away and confined, and the bank will lay this rob-
bery,and ossibly those heretofore, to you, and your
names will be heralded abroad; you will be outcasts
and outlaws upon the public. When you are
thoroughly branded, and your names are in the
mouths of everybody, we will turn you out upon the
streets to be gobble up by the law. ”

" Curse you. do your worst, Judge Vermillyel"

Jack Siphinx replied. "Though you were a mask '

when looked at you, I now recognize an by your
voice. Hal Ifancy you start and trem le. because
you dread the open revelation to the world.”

“ You err, young man," the leader replied, in a
disguised voice. “ I am not the man you believe me
to be. So, in accusing J udze Vermillye, you will be
doing- an innocent man a great injustice—that is if
you ever secs 9. My name is Captain Jim Stavers,
and my gang ere are all professionals."

“ Oh! that will do very well to feed the sparrows
on. but sparrowhawks do not digest that order of
grubl" Jack replied, sarcasticslly.

Then there was a silence for a. few moments, dur-
ing which time the prisoners heard two of the gang
move away along the aisle in which they seemed to
be standing. ' .

“ lipper " Kate Carson said nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

Watch-Eye, the Shadow. 21

 

I

All that passed seemed to be received by her. but
she gave expression to no sentiment whatever,cither
of despondenc or regret that they had come and
gotten entang ed in such a. difficulty.

Jack Sphinx was a little dubious of the ultimate
results 0 their adventure, for he believed Judge
Vermillyc to be a person who would hesitate at no
crimewhich would cover previous guilt, or add to his
welfare and safety.

But he resolved to take matters as they came,
without grumbling, and await the issues before
drawing conclusions. Something might turn up.

The parties who had left the ranks soon returned
and then the whole gang moved off, taking Jack and
his female pard with them.

For a. mil ~, it seemed, they moved along a. hard
bottom; then three of the gang went off with Jack
and Kate Carson, while the rest stopped. On
through another series of passa es; then there was
a clanging as of iron gates, an the two detectives
found themselves locked in a sort of dungeon but
separated by an iron grating. They were cagedl

 

CHAPTER IX.
A Immous sousmn—ncqnnvm’s RESOLVE.

ON the following day there was a great excitement
at the —— Bank, upon the discovery that it had
again been robbed.

Suspicious naturally turned upon Jack Sphinx and
Kate Carson as the perpetrators of the theft, since
they had been given duplicate keys to the bank. on
the previous night, and were now nowhere to be
seen.

Nor were they to be found. as a fruitless search
proved. They had sudden] disappeared, as had a
thousand dollars of the ban ‘5 money.

Several of the directors together with President
Fowler and Vice-President 7Vermillyo had assembled
in the president’s private office to discuss the mat«

ter.

“ I think the case is clearly explained now," Ver-
miliye said. “These two detectives whom we em-

loyed, are the very ones who are robbing us, or, at

est, are in league with a gang of professional
thieves whom they are aiding and abetting."

“So it would'seem," President Fowler confessed,
thoughtfully, “and yet these robberies took place
long before Isought detective aid."

“ 'I‘hat may all be, but you stumbled on the very
parties who were bleeding us and employed them

“ What proof have you of t us?"

“Why. the precious pair have escaped, and a
thousand dollars are missing—~isu’t that sufficient
proof of their guilt?” ' _

“ B no means. I do not believe in convicting
poop c on circumstantial evidence. These detec-
tivesnmay be laying low in order to work up their
case.

“ Perha But I shouldn’t be afraid to wager
that they (1 never turn up again.”

“ Ah! Well, maybe they have been put out of the
way by some one interestvrl in the wholesale rob-
bery business?“ President Fowler suggested.

Judge Vermillye flushed, and sprung from his
scat. an rily, ,

“Did understand that to he an insinuation?" he
demanded, hotly.

“‘ Just as you choose to accept it, my dear Vermill-
ye,” the president replied, coolly. “ A man with a
clear conscience, I have heard said, will not notice
an insinuation.“

The judge flushed again at the out, but subdued
his wrath.

“Perhaps you are right. and I should not have
thought of such a thing. But I am naturally quick—
tempered to that extent that I am often ashamed of
myself. i hope and trust these detectives may turn
out all right, but I have my doubts. I know of a
detective who can be relied upon. but I don’t know
as he could be engaged at present, ”

 

“No hurry,” President Fowler replied. “I shall
give the matter my personal supervision and see
Wilt;th kind of a detective I will make. What, go-
in ’

“Yes. My daughter was indisposed when I left,
this morning. and I must drop in upon her while the
physician is there."

his was an outright lie, but the judge regarded
it as an exceedingly good way to obtain leave of ab-
sence, but. instead 0 goin to his home, the banker
made his way to East Ca owhill street, and in one
of the numerous grog-shops there to be found, hunt-
ed up Jared Ogglesby, the man to whom Nellie Mor-
ton was bound.

He at last found him in a saloon, notoriously bad
in the character of its patrons, and a dirty, filthy
den at the best. ’

Jared Orgiesby was the ideal of a thoroughbred
miser. He was lank and lean, with inched fea-
tures, partly covered with a grizzly stu bio of hair,
a pair of little black eyes peered evilly from in un-
dera pair of overhanging eyebrows; his nose was
booked and the color of a cherry upon the point, and
his attire was ragged and filthy.

He was rather " full," but recognized Vermillye,‘
with a. tipsy nod.

“ ’Momin’, jedge. Have a smile o‘ gin i"

“ No, I thank you, Jared. I do not drink the vile
poison with which you saturate yourself," the judge
replied. “ Come, 1 want you."

“What d” e want?”

“ You sha 1 know directly. Barkeeper, have you
a private room hand i?"

“ Yis,_yer honor!“ replied the Irishman, who dealt
out the beverage for the establishment. “ Here he

the kay, sur, an‘ ez‘ll flnd the room noomber ,

twenthy—siven, on t e right av the hall. Five doi-
lars av yez might please. '
“Go to the dogsl" Vermill e replied, taking the

key, and throwing down a do ar. “There's enough ,

for your old coop. Come along, Jared." .
Vermillye then led the way through a. dark, dismal-

looking hall, until room 2? was found. He unlocked .

the door, and pushed Ogglesby inside, entering him-
self and closing and fastening the door behind him.

He then took a seat in front of the miser, who
dropped into a chair.

“ l have wanted to see you," the banker said, in a -

low tone; “for I have made an important discov—

er ."

x What?“ Ogfilesby demanded.

“You know 1 about the Gerald Tracy aflair, for,
believing you could be trusted, I have from time to
time made you my confidant. Well, I have at last
found the girl whom I have all along believed to be
living—Tracy‘s dau hter.”

“Found her? W ois she?"

" Guess!"

“ I am no hand at guessing."

“ Weli,dyou’ve heard of the row I had at the tene-
ment, an
der?"

“ Yes. Why did you try your hand on the gal?"

“Because the girl whom you have bound to you
under the name of Nellie Morton is in reality Gerald
Tracy’s own and lawful child and heir."

“ The deuce you say!"

“It is true. in a tussle with the girl I discovered
a birth-mark upon her arm, which: I remembered
havin seen upon the arm of the infant that I
thc Butler stole from Mrs. Tracy‘s house, before
my marriage to her." .

“ You are sure of this?” _ _

“Positive. And then, come to think. the irl re—
sembles Tracy. I marvel that I never notic it be-
fore."

“ What became of Whack Butler?"

“Satan only knows. He went to sea, and never
returned,” I .

“I got the girl from a man in West-Virginia. Don‘t
remember the name pow. It was over fifteen year:

“50‘”

how 1 was arrested for attempted mur- ‘

 

 

ii
I-

 ava-«m.» ~—

wc'azsn- rmmw, 1,

~ v.“Sts-("

:e s‘ 37:11 awe-v rem-w»: sex we! «sis—.9“: may:

 

22 ' Watch-Eye, the Shadow.

 

“ She is undoubtedly the original. And, to make
matters still more interesting, her father is in this
very cit , and knows me.”

“ Wei , how does all this concern me, I should like
to in uire?” Ogglesby demanded, sharply, for, al«
tilioug he was soaked with liquor, he was keenly
a ert.

“It concerns you greatly," Vermillye replied, sig‘
niflclz‘uitly. " There is work for you to do—dark
wor '

“ Then I decline before you mention it; you know
I am not partial to labor.‘

“ But you are a great miser, and I’ll allow that you
like to turn an honest or a. dishonest penny, as well
as the next one."

“Well, state our business. I‘ll argue with you
after I’ve hear what you want done. You know
that I despise money, and only a very liberal sum
can affect me."

“ You are an old hypocrite!" Vermillyc retorted,
as if in disgust. “ But to business. How much rent
has the ,old tenement brought in during the past
year? ‘

Oiglesby shrugged his shoulders.

“ ut a mlghtv little. Only a matter of a hundred
dollars, what with dishonest tenants and big taxes."

“ What became of my money? You as agent had
a right to keep but ten dollars on a hundred.“

"All down, here," the miser replied. with a cun-

ning grin. “ All went for rum," and he laid his hand
upon his stomach.
, “ You are a fine rascal to act as one‘s agent, ain‘t
you? But, passing that aside, the old building is not
paying me, and I'm resolved to get my money out
of it. Do you understand how I mean?"

“ By fire I"

“Exactlyl by fire,“ the banker replied, lowering
his tone and glancing around. lest he should be over-
heard. “ And I want you to do the job. The build-
ing is insured for two thousand dollars, and that is
more than I should ever realize out of it if it were to
stand. Therefore. I want you to fire it. When it
stands in ruins, and I get the insurance u on it, you
call upon me and I will place five hundre dollars in
your hands. And, hark you, Jared Ogglesbv," and
the banker lowered his voice to a whisper, " if such
a thing; should happen that your bound girl, who is
Geral Tracy‘s daughter. s ould by accident—un-
derstand me now—should by pure accident burn
with the building, you would be richer by five hun-
ilred"dollars more, making in all a thousand dol—

em.

“I think I understand you," the misnr replied, a
horrible smile coming upon his face. “ In saying to
you that you may depend upon me, I believe I have
said enough.“

"Quite," Judge Vermillye replied, rising triumph-
antly, to depart. " i will depend upon you.”

A man was loitering about the docks at the foot of
Walnut street that same night. not apparently hav-
ln - any object in so doing, more than to catch the

,re reshing breeze that blew off from the rostl-ss
Delaware. for the night was sultr for May, and
the sky was hooded in inky clouds, oreshadowinga
storm.

Business had pretty much suspended. with the
exce tion of a few oyster-venders who were closing
out t eir stock in trade to an occasional late pur-

. chaser, or an occasional policeman who paced to
god fro along Front street, which overlooks the

ver.

The man referred to was ordinarily dressed; a
personage with long brown board, which almost
foyered his face, and the bearing of a gentleman of
ensure.

He carried a stout walking-stick, and a pair of
gyeglasses were perched upon his nose, screening

a eyes.

Ever and anon he would stop to listen,‘as if ex.
pee inglsome sound or signaL ~

on y he left the dock at the foot of Walnut

 

street. and walked briskly along, until he arrived at
the Market street ferry-house. r

The boat from Camden had just arrived, and the
passengers were disembarklng in swarms.

Standing near the entrance to the ferry-house, the
stranger watched the passen rs as they came out,
with a keen scrutiny that evi enced the fact that he
was interested.

At last he seemed to fasten upon a man as being
the one he wanted—a tall, powerfully-built individ-
ual, with an immense allowance of paunch, and the
possessor of a pair of brown whiskers that rivaled
the stranger‘s own.

The man with the big stomach was in reality the
ex-detective, McQuaver, in disguise.

McQuaver started away up Market, at as rapid
a stride as this co OI‘OSity would allow. and the
stran er dogged his ootsteps with the pertinacity
of a s euth. f the (ax-detective stopped into a store
or a saloon, the stranger either stopped also or
loitered near, until his game came out and went on
age n.

In this way he continued to shadow the man
with the great girth. If McQuavor was aware that
he was followed, he did not betray his knowledge
of the fact, but kept on up Market street, going
$§Fd8till the stranger followed, not many paces

n .

At last they came to the s uare of unfinished
Public Buildings at Broad and arket streets, and
by some error in usual customs, found the gate to
the public transept left opt-n.

Seeing this, McQuaver quickenod his pace. and
entered the gloomy portals of the massive pile of
masonry.

This lost him temporarily from the sight of the
strange pursuer, who still held his own, and shortly
afterward left the street and entered the gloomy
transept himself.

After striding forward for a little ways, he paused
to listen. 

ootsteps were distinguishable at the further end
of the transept. and appeared to be receding.
Believing them to be the footsteps of McQuaver,
the stranger hastened cautiously forward, until a
figure sprung out upon him. from one of the dark
alcoves, and a triumphant voice cried in a low, evil
tone:

“ Hal hal my gay copper, you’re after me, eh?
We‘ll see whether you git yer wants satisfied or not.
Take that, cuss ye I"

And in the air above the stranger‘s head a long-
hladed knife flashed threateningly.

But the murderous blow did no particular harm
for the stranger struck aside McQuaver’s hand. an
the knife but grazed his shoulder. The next instant
the tables were fairly turned, for the stranger had
Mr uaver by the throat.

“ ol nol Jack McQuaver, I am not satisfied." he
gritted savagely. while his gripe fastened tighter
around the ex-detective’s throat. “ Instead of my
falling into your hands, you have fallen into minel ‘

A powerful man was the stranger, and withal a.
cool man. For. keeping one hand about the ex-do-
tective's windpipe, he actually raised him. big as he
was, from the grchmd, and carried him up one of the
gloomy aisles of the massive structure, until they
were out of the way of chance passers-by. Here he
laid him upon the ground. and placed one knee u on
big breast, while a. revolver silenced his woul -bo
cries.

“Silence now i" the stranger ordered, pressing the
muzzle of his weapon to the ex-detect ve‘s cheek.
” If you but give a squawk, I‘ll blow your brains out.
Don‘t imagine I‘m fooling, for I was never more in
earnest,"

“Let me lipi"McQuaver growled. “You've got
hold of the wrong man."

“ No, I've got the right man. You are Bill Mc-
Quaver. and know it. I heard you admit the some
to VemillyHlm Silas Ply l"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Watch-Eye, the Shadow. L 23

 

“Well, whatgit I am McQuaver? What business
or right have you to assault me in this manner?”

“ The right of an injured victim of your thievish
treachery—the right of a man who is seekin ven-
geance, through the aid of the law. Do you now
me, sir?“

“N01” McQuade grunted, suilenly. “ Let me up,
or I'll whistle for the police)"

“ Dare to try such a move, and I’ll give you a dose
of leaden electricity, such as you never experienced.
So you don’t know me, eh Y—don‘t know the man you
were seeking out, to murder. I am Gerald Tracy,
or Watch-Eye, the Shadow!"

McQuaver started. his florid face paling, a trifle.

" You .7” he gasped—“you?”

“ Yes. I! You may well tremble, you accursed
rascal, for into prison you go, in less than an hour.
unless you make a confessmn of your crimes, and
place it in my hands."

" Implicatin in self ?”

“ Yes, and so ilas Pry. Also, on must pay me
fifty thousand dollars. Refuse. an into Jail you go,
for a straight ten years of your life."

Mchaver remained silent a few moments, as if
turning over the situation in his mind.

“You promise to let me go. if, out of the money I
have honestly made, I go and pay the bank, and
clear you?" he demanded.

" You shall go free."

“Then, I’ll do the fair thing by you. I’ve allus
been haunted by that cussed bit 0 villain , and I’ve
made up in mind to clear my skirts of vi lainy, and
even thong it beggars me. I ll sguare up, and turn
over a new leaf. I scarce] brheve I was ever cut
out for a villain anyhow. hen shall we start [or
Baltimore and Washington 7"

“At once!" Watch-Eye said.

CHAPTER X.
BREAKING LOOSE—OLD PHILLIS.

We must now return to Jack Sphinx and Kate
Carson, whom we left incarcerated. underground, in
a dun eon, though they were ignorant as to the
style 0 rison they were in, or its locale.

After ocking them Within the dungeons, the bank
robbers took their departure and the two detectives
were alone, separated by an iron-barred partition.
The robbers had neglected to release them of their
bonds, and so the were left blindfolded and with
their hands tied be ind their backs. ' l

e Carson was the first to speak.

" Are you there, Jack?" she called. .

“Yes I‘m on hand," Sphinx replied. grimly. “ How
do you ike your new quarters, over there?”

“ I don’t know, for I haven’t been able to inspect
them yet. My eyes are covered with a strong
cloth.‘

“ Ditto mine. And my arms are bound. too. But
it I can find a sharp stone, I can cut the ropes, an
then release you. Then we can better inspect our
new quarters, I guess."

The search for the sharp stone was fruitless, for
the walls were all laid or smooth granite.

The next best thing was the iron bars, and Sp in):
set to work, determined to free himself some ow.
But the sawmg of his bonds across the edges of the
iron was slow and monotonous work. and weary-
ing, to that extent that be finally gave it up as a bad

ob.
1 He next tried to remove the bandage from before
his eyes, in which he was successful, and was soon
able to survey his surroundings.
He found that they were in an old disused cellar,

I halt-filled with old barrels and boxes, behind which

the double dungeon had been built at some remote
erlod. for what use was a mystery. A kerosene
amp swung in a bracket, just outSIde the dungeon
door, and furnished the only light upon the sub.

ec .
It enabled Jack to see that there were no ways in

which he could cut and tree himself of his bonds.
Kate, he could toe, was working to liberate her

 

hands, but with poor success. The act of wearing
out a strong r0 9 by drawing it acrossastone or
iron bar, is not t a most rapid work.

After reflection, an idea struck him which he re~
solved to put into execution.

He had a clasp-knife in his jacket-pocket, and if
he could but get at this. he could perha s manage»
to cut his bonds. But with his arms tied ehi'nd his.
back, how was he to f. ee himself— how was he to
get at the knife?

There was but one way. and he resolved to try
it. That was by lying down upon the floor, and at—1
tem ting to stand upon his head, and in this manner
spi mg out his knife.

To try the Klan was easy. and he gut the idea into
execution. ying upon is back, e turned a half--
somerset, balancin himself for a second or two
upon his head, with is heels in the air.

Clink! the knife dropped from his pocket upon

the hard bottom of the dungeon, and he had wonl.

Drop ing back 11 on his back, he wriggled along,
until is inioned ands came into contact with the
knife. 6 then arose to his feet, and it was not long
ere he had the blade opened, and the cords severed,
after which his arms were free!

“ Loose, at last!” he cried, with a chuckle. “ And,
now. Miss Carson, if you Will come to the grating,
I will endeavor to reach through and free you."

Kate obe ed. and the detective managed to re-
lease her ands. after which she tore the covering
from her eyes herself.

“Well, we’re partly free at last,” Jack said, “but
there's no telling when we shall get out of this place.
Iron bars are not so easily cut as a rope.”

“True, but I do not intend to stay here, if I can
help it. Do you think we could make anybody hear
by yelling?” -

“ It is doubtful. This old basement seems to be
ver large. and a fellow might halloo till doomsday,
wit out attracting attention, except from the rats.
I can't imagine where we are.”

“ Nor 1, but we are not far from the wharves. and
possibly under some vacant storehouse. These
ca es have probably been used some time to cage
wi d animals for the menagerie s.”

“ Yes, but not belonging to that race of creatures.
I don’t like the situation. We shall have to put our
heads together. and form some plan by which we
can secure our liberty. "

 

When Watcli~Eye spoke as last recorded, he re-
leased his hold upon Mc . aver. and allowed him
to arise. He still retained is revolver in readiness,
for he knew not but what the (ex-detective might be
playing the villain, despite his seeming earnestness.

“ You can put up your weapon." McQuaver said.
“ I’ve nothing against you, and if you treat me half
human. you can depend upon me.’

“If you choose to carry out your reposition,
that‘s all I care about you,” Gerald acy said.
“ Faithfulness never goes unrewarded, and it
through your means I become rte-established in the
world, you shall not lose by it. First come with me
to my quarters, and we will arrange a confession."

Mo uaver did not hesitate to obey, and accompa—

nied t, e Shadow-detective to his lodgings which were ’

in North 13th street. A large. pleasantly lighted
room. tastin furnished, was what the Shadow called
his quarters, and into which heconducted Mp naver
and handed him a seat at a desk. supph With
writing materials, While he himself took a chair
close at hand. ‘_ . ,

“ There are pens. ink and pa er 3’ he said. . “ You
may make out a confession._ I Ilik’e It, all 1') ht; if
not, I will destroy it and give you the tron le 0!
writing the whole thing over." ‘

Without demur the exvdetectxve set about his task.
He was a good penman, and wrote rapidly. so that
it was not many minutes ere he handed Gerald Tm-

cy the document, of which the subjoined is a correct,

COPY i

d=asr¥v:..

 as. «w ;~.

..,,...,.1. at. l,

m a a 2:. w

5; m Na,

 

 

24 _ Watch-Eye, the Shadow.

 
 

 

l

“Philadelphia, May 12, 18—.
“To President of —— Bank, Washington. D. 0.:—

“ DEAR Sim—You will probably be astonished on
the reception of this, to learn that the warrant you
hold for the arrest of Gerald Tracy, nineteen years
ago an employee in your bank, prevents an honest
man from coming forward to claim the rights of a
citizen under his true name. For, understand you,
Gerald Tracy is not indebted to you one,farthing, he
having on the tenth day of May. nineteen years ago,
paid into my hands. according to your direction, the
sum of fifty thousand dollars, which he had pre-
viously taken from the bank.

“This clears Gerald Tracy. and I recommend that
you receive him back as an honest, law-abiding citi-
zen, which I believe him to be. He has been absent
from the East nineteen years, su posing allthe time
that his debt to on was cancele ; but on returning
and finding tho it was not, has sought me out. and
I have decided to make a clean breast of it. The
money was paid by Tracy into my hands; then a
devil came to me in the shape of one Silas Fry, and
proposed that 1 kee a portion of it, and surrender
the rest to him. I id so, and I fled to other parts of
the world. But I have become tired of a rovmg life,
and the thought that I am a thief; and hence I have
resolved to clear Trac and pa you one hundred
and sixty thousand an five hun red dollars. which
is the full amount, principal and interest of the debt
I owe you; upon condition that you will sign a clear-
ance gaper, and return it to me y Mr. Gerald Tracy.
prom ing never to take action against me or him.

“ WM. Mchmvza."

This was what the document said, and what Gerald
Tracy read. over and over several times.

“Is it all ri ht. or is there something more you
would have?" c uaver asked, anxiously.

“It is enough," etch-Eye replied, “and Ithank

on for it. I believe you mean to do better. and as
ong as I see that such is your intention you can
count on me as a. friend. There have been black
spots in both of our lives, but I have confidence we
can yet do enough good in the future, to atone for
the wron of the past. You intend that I shall pre~
sent this go the President of the bank?"

“ Yes. I will accompany you _ to Washington,
gngtifythey accept my terms, I Will pay them the

e .

“No. You shall not do that, alone,” Watch-Eye
replied. “You pay what on took. with interest.
andI will give you the res . I shall get it out of
Silas Pry, at. or I am mistaken. And now. having
arranged t is, you can meet mo at the depot, Bron
and Washington avenue tomorrow morning, and
we will catch the first train to the Capital.“

Afters. few more words, McQuaver tookhis dc-
parture. .

Bright and early the following morning, Watch-
Eye was at the Baltimore depict. and found the ex-
detective there in advance of im.

Going aboard the first train, they were whirled
away over the steel trnclr, toward their destination.

“ here are a few things I would ask you about,"
Gerald Tracy said, as the train glided along, “and
that is concerning the death of my wife, who, I un-
derstand. marrie Silas Pry, after I left forthe West.
Have you information to give?"

“ Very little bearing directly on the case. I am sor-
ry to say," McQuavcr re lied. “ I was hired by Silas
Pry. as 1you may know, 0 follow you and put you
out of t 5 way, in order that ho, ry. might in the
course of time, foreclose the mortgage upon River-
dale. Once or twice I received letters from Pry; in
one of them he stated that he had married Mrs.
Tracy; in another that his wife had suddenly died.
That’s all I ever heard about it."

Gerald Tracy groaned in spirit.

“ I wish I could find out how she diedl" he said
his brows knitted in perplexity of thought. “
should be better satisfied.‘

‘ “Why do you not hunt up old Phillis, the nurse

woman. It occurs to me that she was in attendance
upon your wife during her last sickness.” ,

“ Hal if I could but find her. But is she alive,
after‘all these years? Inquiry in Washington might
or might not find her."

” We can try. at least.” Mc aver said. “ Al-
though not much acquainted in ashington, I know
where the old wench used to live, and it will do no
harm for us to visit the locality."

"God bless youl You are indeed a. friend in an
hour of need. ’ Watch-Eye re lied, warmly gras‘ping
the ex‘detective's hand. “ 6 will go and perm 5
find the negress. If I could but find my child, tfie
happiness of my future would drive away the dark
clouds of my past.”

Arrived in Washington, the two men set faith-
 to work, to discover the abode of the negro,

l s.

A visit to the spot where McQuaver had once known
her to live, resu ted in finding no trace of her. She
had long since moved to other quarters.

In their disguises both )lcQuaver and Gerald Tracy
passed through the streets of Washington, without
detection, for after nineteen years nobody knew
them, nor did they see many that they knew.

Turninf away from several places where the ne-
gress ha once lived, they sought out the city direc-
tory, and together scanned its pages, eagerly.

There were Philliscs of every name. seeming] , but
only two whose occu ation corresponded wit the
previous business of t e Phillis they wanted.

One of these was Phillis Bohec, dry nurse, and the
other, Phillis Washtoe, wet nurse.

They lived in the same section of the city. and our
two friends decided to pay them each a visit, before
trying the other Phillises.

A visit to Phillis Washtoe, who came first on the
route, resulted in finding a negress with half a dozen
little negroes tied to her skirts. In uiring if she had
ever nursed one Mrs. Judge Vermi lye. or Mrs. Silas
Pry, McQuaver and Watch-Eye were informed in the
negative. So bidding Mrs. Washtoe good-day, t' ey
set out in search of Mrs. Bohee, whom Mrs. Washtoe
believed to be the right party.

“I have almost despaired of finding any claw."
Watch-Eye said as they walked along. “ Ten to one
the next one wi 1 not be the one we seek."

“ I have faith that she will be the one," McQuavcr

replied.
And so the went on until they came to the rc-
si(lcnce of hillis Bohee. It was a dirty-looking

113‘.ng in which she lived, but there were no children
a on .

.Mc uaver‘s rap was answered by a trim mulatto
girl 0» seventeen who politely invited him to enter.

Inside everyt ng was neat and clean, but showed
that poverty was not a stranger there.

An old negress sat croning before the stove, 'clad
in rags. She wasas black as a. coal, and well pre-
served, but was evidently in her second childhood.

The dgirl handed the visitors chairs, and then
awaite in respectful silence for them to state their
errands.

” Which one of you is Phillis Boheel’" McQuavcr
\aslfed. glancing first at the old woman, and then at

the girl.

“I’m Phillis Bohee—who wants me?" the old wo-
man said, looking up from the fire, abruptly. “ Who
wants me?"

“I want you to answer me a few questions, my
good woman,” the ex-detective replied. “One of
them is: were you ever employed as nurse to Mrs.
Judge Vermillye, of this city?‘

“Vermill e—Vermiilyef" The negress muttered.
thoughtful y. “Let me see; was it many years
ago?

"Yes—a matter of sixteen or so. Vermill e‘s
wife died very suddenly, you 'know. Her prev ous

Ohl v es I remember now,

 

name was Mrs. Tracy.”
Yes, I nussod

I t 63_
Mrs, Tracy se orll times."

 

 

is

' l
;\ rash-.1122... «ma-www.mww‘.owns-m...  ., 

 

  

 

 

 

M m“,

.. “mm...”

"1:, ‘finlfi‘t‘cflmau w... .,

 

o. M... _. _..... t.-. ,

.4,

 

 

 

 

.. amid...

' , [weal-mu. the Shadow.“ ~ 25

' “Did you ever hear her speak about her former
husband ‘3”

“Oh! golly, yes. She tell me all about him. She
tell me how he run away an' leab her, and den she
hear of his deafth, nn' then somebody stole her baby;

es, an’ she mourn au' grieve her pretty eyes out for
er oor first husband an‘ child.”

“ id she ever say how she came to live with Ver-
millye? how she came to marry him i"

“No! she nebber say much about him. He treat
her wuss'n a slave master used to treat his niggers.
1IlIe bpund and abuse her drefful, and threaten to kill

er.

“ Curse him i” Watch-Eye fairly hissed, in terrible
anger as he listened to the simple story of the
wench. “ He shall yet suffer, even as she suffered.“

“This is Mr. Tracy, who was the first husband of
Mrs. Vermillye," McQuaver ex lained. “We came
to find you, and learn if possib e of what Mrs. Ver-
millye died. We have both had suspicions that foul
play might have caused her death."

"Yes, yes. I allus sed she did not die naturahlike,
but I hadn’t any proof on it. Bless you, dough,
missus dropped away orful quick, she did. She com—
menced aihn’ on Monday, an’ Saturday she was laid
out in her coffin. Sez Ito her:

“ ‘ Missus, be all goin’ right?
Den she smile an’ she sez:

“ ‘ Look in under m pillow, after I‘m gone, and
you’ll find a sealed ac age. Take it, an’ if ever my
child is found give i to her.’ "

“ And this ipagan—have you it yet?" Watch-Eye de-
manded,exc te ly.

“Yes, I'se got it. Dolly, gal, jes‘ you go up in de

arret an’ fotch down dnt bandbox. De dockyment
fie in dat, onless de rats hab done gone an’ eat it to
pieces!" -

Be you satisfied ?‘

 

CHAPTER XI.

mas AT OGGLESBY rmcs—«ucn srnmx’s nmvanr.

“ Fire! Fire/ FIRE!" _

The cry rent the night in a piercing yell from some
stcntorian voice.

“ Fire!" the electric signal ran like chain~lightning
to the many lire stations in the Quaker cit ; the Dis-
trict Telegraph flashed the news over t ieir many
wires‘ the one word,“ fire " made man a heartbeat
fast, {or it meant destruction and dose ation.

Only along the routes taken by the fire engines
and trucks was the populace aroused. except in the
locality of the fire: elsewhere the pie slept on
unaware of the conflagrat-ion, per a , until they
should read of it in the mtrning papers.

The scene of the disaster was in no other building
than that known as Ogglcsby‘s tenement.

The whole lace seemed ablaze. From every door
and window he smoke poured in dense volumes,and
occasionally a sharp tongue of flame would leap out
into the ni ht, as if reaching for a hold upon the op-
posite buil ings.

The street in front of the old building was throng—
ed with people. who surged to and fro behind the
ropes that barred them out from reaching the burn-
ing building or touching such household effects,as
were being rescued from the doomed tenement.
Men, women and children, many of them in their
bare feet and night-robes, as they had escaped from
the fire; brawpy policemen. yelling draymen, and
tlietrum et veice of bravo firemen—all united in a
series 0 howls and cries that made the scene a.

andemonium.

Still the fire waged on within the building,.and the
smoke and flame poured out into the night. Streams
of water were turned upon and into the building
without apparent effect; several daring “laddies "
ventured into the budding, but all to no avail. The
dense volumes of smoke drove them back, nearly
suflocated. All that could be done was to play the
streams of water upon the structure until it was
flooded. but it might take hours ere such flames
yielded to the power of water.

Among the most excited upon the spot, was old

 

Jared Ogglesby. He rushed frantically about, urg-
ing on the firemen, and acting more like a crazy per—
son than aught else.”

“Put out the fire! put out the fire!" he shouted.
” Oh! my property is all gone and I am a ruined
manl Five hundred dollars reward! five hundred
dollars reward for the arrest and conviction of the
person or persons who set fire to my tenement."

But, none seemed to know anything about the fire:
the average spectator was pleased to see it burn, for
it would give room for a better block.

But Ogglesby apparently bemoaned his ill-luck, in
the bitterest terms, and swore bitter vengeance upon
the incendiary who had fired his tenement.

The fire waged on.

Stream after stream of water was being thrown
into the building by the panting engines; still the
smoke poured densely out.

“ Are all out of the building?“ the chief of the fire-
department asked, as he wiged the black and per-
spiration from his face. “ cunt noses, and report
at once."

This was done, accordin to orders; then up went
it) erg, from those who _ ad been tenants of the

loc :

“Nellie Morton! Where is Nellie Morton?"

“Nellie! my Nellie! Is she not here?” screeched
Jared Ogglesb , rushing to and fro. “ Somebody
find her—look or her! Oh! God grant she is not in
the burning building. It would kill me!”

A hurried search was made for the missing girl,
and her name was shouted aloud, without eliciting
a response.

In passing through the crowd in an apparent
agonized search, a voice exclaimed in Jared Og-
glesby’s ear, in a low tone:

“ What a cunning old hypocrite you are. I wish
you success l"

The miser glanced around to catch a glimpse of
Vermillye’s exultant face, but a few feet away. ~-

“ Curse you,” lie muttered and then went on.

At last it was decided that Nellie Morton was yet
in the burning building, and word went from mouth
to mouth.

Horror was upon everybody seemingly, as they
thought of pure, innocent Nellie being consumed in
the flames.

But among all the firemen noted for theirbravery,
none were there who dared to enter that furnace of
fire; even to save a human life. And. then, man
argued that the poor irl had been suffocated wit
smoke long ere this. ow could it be otherwise?

It was at this juncture, when all were in a state of
horrified anxiety, that Judge Vermillye stepped
forgh where all could see him, and raising his voice,
sai :

“It seems useless for man to buflet with fire. but
if there is any person resent who will bring Miss
Morton out of the fire a we, I will willin ly give him
a thousand dollars out of my own poc et as a re-
ward of merit!”

A breathless silence ensued for a moment. except
for the cracking of the flames and rush of water.
Each person present was waiting for some other

erson to ste forward and accept the judge‘s phi-

anthro ic 0 er.

Hark A yell came faintly from down the street
—-then a man came rushing up and forced his way
through the crowd to where the judge slood~and
this man was none other than the young detective,
Jack Sphinx! . _

“ Curse you!" he cried, seizm . the banker and
hurling -him to the ground. “T is is your hellish
work! Nellie Morton I—where is she? Somebody
tell me i"

“ In the burning building " the fire chief replied.
“It’s useless to try to save er, for she is dead long
are this!"

“No! ’tis not useless 1" Jack Sphinx cried, as be
seized a blanket and wrapped it about his head.
“ Now Order your men to turn a stream of water on
me!

 

 

so -_

The order was given and obeyed, and in an instant
Sphinx was soaked with water.

He then seized an ax from a fireman’s hand, and
with a strange cry dashed up the staircase lead-
ing {gem the street into the upper part of the tene-
men .

As he darted away Judge Vermiliye staggered to
his feet, excitedly;

“Stop himl stop him! Arrest him, for he is Jack
Sphinx, accused of bank robbery. A hundred dol-
lars for his arrest! Will no one stop him?"

No one, evidently, for Jack Sphinx was lost to
view in the burning building ere the banker had
caused speaking. No one would have followed him
for love or money.

It was with breathless suspense that the excited
s ectators watched and waited. Would the gallant

hinx over come back from the fiery furnace into
w ich he had ventured to save a human life? And,
if so, \\ oulJ he bring Nellie Morton out alive?

These were the questions that ran from mouth to
mouth—the all important questions for the solution
of which all were waiting.

- Jared Ogglesby was suddenly missing. Perhaps
the fact was unnoticed, but the miser had siuuk
away as if uilty of some awful crime.

Steadin id the streams of water pour through
the now paneless windows of the old tenement: ea-
Eerly the crowd sur ed forward, until the fire-patrol

ad to use their clu s to kee them back.

Judge Vermillye stood wntc ing the smoking stair-
case, with horrible fascination. expecting, yet hoping
against hope that Jack Sphinx would not make his
reap earance with the form of Nellie Tracy—the
dang ter ' of the man the banker had so bitterly
wronged.

Doomed, however, was he to bitter disappoint-
ment.

For, even as the burning floors within the brick
walls fell with a crash, the form of Jack S hinx
came into view at the foot of the staircase, fol owed
by a dense volume of smoke. and in his arms he car-
ried the form of Nellie!

Then there went up a wild, tumultuous hurrah—4t
mad cheer of enthusiasm. such as I'IUVUI' escaped
from so many throats, probably. before. And the
crowds surged forward, still making the night ring
with their plaudits.

Jack Sphinx laid the inanimate form of Nellie up-
on a mattress which had been hastily spread and
then turned—40 find himself in the hands of several
stalwart policemen.

“Mr. Sphinx, we arrest you in the name of the
law!” one of them said, laying a hand upon the
brave detective’s shoulder. "You are accused of
robbery, and we shall have to take you with us.”

"Yesi away with him to prison 1" Judge Vernlllye
cried, advancing. “He is the very man the —
Bank is looking for!"

“Hold! release that manl" cried a stern voice,
and the chief of police, accompanied by President
Fowéer and Kate Carson, detective, stopped for-
war .

“ Jack Sphinx has been proven guiltless of the
crime’charged against him, and I declare him a free
man.

The officers obeyed, respectfully, and Judge Ver-
millye uttered a horrible oath, under his breath, at
beling tigus foiled in the very hour of his supposed
tr ump . ,

AnOther cheer then went up for brave Jack
Sphinx. and it was a rouser.

Seeing that he was expected to say something the
hero of the hour modestly stepped forward, where
all could see him, and bowing, said:

“My friends, you do me unnecessary homage. I
have simg‘ly done an act of duty which deserves no
cheers. or your sympathy. let me, however, tender
m thanks, and add afew words. That there has
been foul play here, to—night, there can be no doubt.
Alter penetratin to the apartments of Jared Ofigles-
by, whose boun girl Miss Morton is, I foun hrr

Watch-Eye, the Shadow;

 

lying in an old closet, bound hand and foot, and
gagged. Who is the author of this meditated crime!

leave it to you and the law to discover. I can only
say that suspicion points to Jared Ogglesby.”

A murmur of indignation ran rife among the
crowd, and search was hastily instituted for the
miser but he had taken his departure, era the
knowledge of his attempted crime transpired.

Jack S hinx turned to President Fowler and shook
him by t 6 hand.

"You arrived just in time to save me a trip to
Moyargiensing. How have you found out my inno-
cence '

“ Through Miss Carson here, who took myself and
the chief, here, to the old storehouse cellar where
you were concealed. We found that the wall of
each cellar between the storehouse and the bank
was provided with a sliding wall, and we also found
some other things which throw the suspicion else-
where. You had better look after your fire-waif
now, and then call on me as soon as possible,"

Jack bowed, and turned his attention to Nellie.
Ready hands had participated in an effort to restore
her to consciousness, and had been successful, for
she soon opened her eyes.

Kate Carson then called a cab, and with rescued
Nellie, she and Jack left the scene of the fire.

The cab took them to Kate's own residence on
Spring Garden street. and they were soon installed
in the female detective’s own pretty little parlor.

Nellie was very week after passing through her
terrible ordeal, and it was some time ere she could
relate anything concerning the fire.

But she finallv felt able to talk, and in answer to
questions from Jack and Kate she said:

"As to the origin of the fire, I know only that
Jared Ogglrsby came home, carrying with him a
gallon can of coal oil. He was in liquor. and when I
asked him what he was going to do with the oil, he
replied that ‘ho was going to set hell on fire.’ Be-
ing used to his brutal talk, I paid no attention to
him, and after I had finished or work, I went and
threw myself down upon my be , for my head ached
terribly. I must have dr%pged asleep, for the next
I was conscious of, was 0 eing drawn rudely off
the bed to the floor, and dragged along by the hair
of my head. I then awakened to the re ihzation that
I was bound hand and foot, and gagged. Iwas drag-
ged to the closet and left, and then my guardian
disappeared, and I saw no more of him. But I prea-
ently smelt the fire, and the horror of burning alive
was so great to me that I lost consciousness."

“ lam believe that Jared Ogglesby fired the tone-
men .”

“ Yes. I am well satisfied that he did. Moreover, I
believe that he was hired to do it by». certain person
who seems desirous that I should not live.“

“ You mean Judge Vex-mill e?”

“Yes. He attem ted to eke my life once, and
would he not be like y to do so again?”

“ Very likely. For the present, Miss Nellie, I shall
assume your protection, and I guess I can induce
Miss Carson to allow you to remain here for the
present."

“Certainly,” Clipper Kate replied, eagerly. “ She
can assume control of my house while I’m out
scouting, for you know, Mr. Sphinx, we’ve et to
discover the robbers of the bank. lam of t e be-
hef that we shall not have to Search far."

 

The mulatto girl hastened to obey the command
of Old Phillis. and in the course of five minutes re-
turned with the bandbox, which was well worn, and
covered/with cobweb ;.

Phillis received the box. and began to overhaul its
contents, which consisted of some rags, ribbons, pa-
pers and etcetera. She finally rescued a lar 6 red
envelope from the mass, and handed it to V atch-

Eye.

“ Dar be the dockyment, Mars’r Tracy, jes’ as dis
old nuss received it."

"Thank God!” Watch-Eye ejaculated, a: he tore

 

r

new, .. . Mam». m

 

 

:7, new. .

r

or...” .. . Miguel m

 

Watch-Eye, the Shadow. 9-"

 

open the envelope. “This ma be the key to the
mystery of in wife's death. ere, McQusver, you
me read it a mid." .

T e tax-detective received the document, which
was old and faded. and read, aloud:

“ WASHINGTON, December 8th, 186—.

“My DEAR Hosmxn on CHILDI—Should this ever
fell into your hands, you Will know that I am dying,
Ohl Gerald, my husband, come to me, and bring our
child. I shall have but a few do. s to live. at the
longest. and I want to see you ere die. Ohl Lord,
spare me till then)

"I know not what ails me, but I have suspicions—
ohi horrible suspicions, that I am being poisoned.
The doctors shake their heads, and call it a strange
case~beyond their comprehension. But, when the
savage-looking Italian chemist comes, my soul is
filled with horror. I can hear him and Vermillye
chuckling together, as over some diabolical plot.

“ LATER. *

“Vermill'e has just been to see me, and has
confessed 0 me that I am doomed. No one has
teen admitted to see me to-day, and I am impressed
that, after to-night, I shall be out of my misery.
Vermillye is my murderer. Gerald—and the child,
look for it, far and wide. It was stolen from me at
Vermill e's insti ation. It is marked, so that when
you (In it, if, in eed, you are alive, you will know
it. It has a crimson star upon either of its arms,
above the elbow. One is very faint, and may disa -
pear. There, some one is coming, and I must hi e
this. I am dying—dying in torture. God bless you,
my first husbau an child.

"MARION TRACY VmunLLYE."

“That is all,” McQuaver said, laying down the
tell-tale document. _

CHAPTER XII.
CLEAnEn—A DAUGHTER'S ACT.

“ IT is enough 1“ Gerald Tracy said. “ It is enough
to hang Silas Pry, and he shall certainly pay the
penalty. Come, we have learned enough to satisfy
me. My good woman. here are fifty dollars for
your faithfulness. and more reward shall follow, by
and by. Now, McQuaver, we shall have to go, for
another matter awaits our attention."

Accordingly they left the miserable dwelling of
the negress, and burned back into the heart of the

city.

At the Ebbitt House they stopped, and tool: rooms
for the day; then leaving MeQuaver at the hotel,
Gerald Tracy started fur the bank. where, years
before. he had in a dark hour yielded to the in~
fluences of temptation.

Upon entering the bank he saw only strange
faces. and upon inquiring of the cashier for Presi-

dent —. a look of surprise overspread the offlcial’s
sailow face.

“Mr. —. did you say?" he demanded, stroking
his side-whiskers. “My dear sir, you must be a.
stranger in these parts. President ——-— died ten
years 0 "

"Is not 'the bank in the same stockholders' hands,
tlaen, as eighteen years ago?" Watch—Eye demand-
e .
“ With a few exceptions, yes.”
“ Who is presideht, here, now?"

“ Mr. M—-—, sir.‘
“ He was formerly vice-president?"
“ He was.”

“ Then, he is the man I want to see. Please hand
him my card.”

And drawing a card from his pocket, Gerald Trac
handed the cashier a. card, upon which was printe :
“ WATCH-Eve, Snwow-Dsrscrrvs."

The clerk started as he saw the inscription, and
b0wed as he took himself off. qudenngly.

Watch-Eye had not long to wait. ere he was shown
into the private oflice of the president.

 

That gentleman bowed courteonsly, and motioned
the Shadow to a seat.

He was a portly. smooth-fared man, with kindly
bearing, and Gerald Tracy remembered him, even
though nineteen years had passed since they last
had met, for in feature he had experienced little or

.no Q‘erceptible change.
..

ou do not know me, I dare say, and wonder
what brings me here," he said, accepting the prof-
fered chair.

“Well, really, no; I cannot account for a, visit
from one of your stamp. You come on business, I
suppose?"

“ Yes. strictly on business. The case which Ihare
in hand is one somewhat peculiar in its nature.
Some nineteen years ago, an employee of this bank
stole a sum of money amountin to fifty thousand
dollars. and absconded, did he no i“

“ Exactlyl What dolyou know about the matter?
If you have any valuab e evidence, you shall be paid
well for it."

“ I have to offer you a confession recently written
by one William McQuaver, a detective," \\ etch-Eye
replied and taking from his pocket the paper, he
handed it to the President, who bridging his glasses
u on his nose. carefully perused the confession.

hen he laid it down, there was an expression of
surprise u on his face.

“ This s a strange case," he said. drumming
thoughtfully u on the table. ” It seems that Tracy
paid is debt a ter all, and that this McQuaver was
the ‘ nigger in the bush.‘

“You see. the money ap ropriated by Gerald
Tracy was taken from corn ed deposits and from
private vaults. It belonged to patrons of the bank.
and rather than they should be the losers, President
--—, my predecessor, made good the sums taken,
out of his own purse, so that in reality the bank has
no claim on the money. We have kept the warrant
ready, in behalf of the resident’s wife, in case
either Tracy was capture or should return of his
own accord."

“ Then you believe Tracy exonerated?"

“ Certain] . The confession proves that clear
enou h, an I shall withdraw the warrant to-day,
whic can be done b_ explaining the situation."

“ How about Me aver? Cannot he have ex-
emption from prosecution upon restoration of the
mone :7”

“T at is just as the Government and Mrs. —,
the former president‘s wife, see fit. Iwill lay the
case before the proper authorities. and let you
know this afternoon or evening. Where shall I find

“At the Ebbitt House. You may inquire for
Gerald Tracy, and I shall be pleased to wait on

you.

“ What! am I to understand that you are Gerald
Tracy?"

“ I am the same.”

“Then let me shake hands with you. You have
assed through a life-cloud, and I believe haw- pro-
ted by the singular experience you have had."

“ Thank you. I am a better man. I trust, than
nineteen years ago. and shall try to live a life in the
future that shall be without reproach." y
' Gerald Trac then left the bank and returned to
McQuever, w 0, upon hearing the news, looked
rather grim. _

“ They can do as they please." be said. “ if they’d
rather arrest me and put me in jail. than to promise
me immunity and have a full restoration of the
money, they can do so. I will go to prison ten years.
and then. when I come out. the money is mine.
Here," and the ex-detective laid a number of papers
upon the table—“ here are papers making you pos-
sessor of all my wealth. You can hunt it up, and
keep it for me, providing I have to go to prison.
Among them are two checks upon the —~ Bank of
Philadel his for one hundred and Sixty-one thousand
dollars, rawn anable to you. This leaves you to
settle with the ank, in case there is to be no prose~

 

 

28 Watch-Eye.

the Shadow.

 

cution. Surve ing the situation from all stand-
points, I thong t it advisable not to bring along any
money." :,

That evening President M— payed them a visit,
and brought with him Mrs. —, wife of the former
President of the Bank, and also the malls pray. for
McQuaver, making him a free man upon the restora-
tion of the money, principal and interest, that he
god stolen after it was paid to him by Gerald

racy. ,

Whereupon Watch—Eve gave Mrs. — a check
upon his bank for the full amount, and matters were
satisfactorily settled, so that when Gerald Tracy and
McQuaver were once more alone together, they were
free men.

Remaining in Washington over night, they the
next day started on their return to Philadelphia. for
Watch-Eye was new free, and fearless—free to brave
Silas with the powerful document he held
against t e banker. ‘

He would have matters righted, though years had
passed and gone.

 

After his defeat and rebuff at the fire, Judge Ver-
mill e returned to his mansion, and locked himself
in h s library, in company with the great cases of
books, a bottle of wine, and a box of cigars.

“I am beaten, there,” he mused, staring save ely
at a vailed statue that was gazing down upon im
from a pedestal. “ Curse that detective, Sphinxl
He and the returned devil, Gerald Tracy, seem
leagued in an attempt to ruin me, and drive me out.
But they have a tiger to fight. Tracy dare not show
himself. fearing arrest, and I care not for what ill he
can do me so long as he kee 3 out of sight. But, he
must not i ve to triumph. e must not. I have not
lived all my life without sinning, and,by heaven, I
shall not hesitate to sin again, to gain the consum-
mation of my plans. Hal be! what do I care for the
worst he can do? I have not yet to beg of any per-
son. To be sure, I own but one piece of roperty,
and that is where the old tenement stoo , for this
house my factory and steamship, are deeded to
Beat ce. my daughter. But, I have five hundred

. thousand dollars in greenbacks, in my immediate
ossession. In yonder safe the money reposes, and
carry the key. Then, there is the mortgage upon

Riverdale, now in the hands of attorney for fore-
closm‘e. That will bringlme in ready cash, unless I
bid in the estate. Hal al you are yet triumphant.
Silas P , and can laugh at your enemies. Hal a
ring at t 8 door. Who can want me?"

The question was soon solved, for a servant
brought up a slip of paper in lieu of a card, and re-
spec full awaited an answer.

Vermil{ve took the paper, and glanced at the writ-
ing upon it. In poor chirography was penciled the

name——
“ JARED OGGLESBY."

“ Show him u ," the banker ordered.

And he and t e miser were soon locked in the li-
brary, together.

Ogglesby had been imbibing freely, and there was
a sullen, bull~dog look upon his face.

“I have come to make terms." he said, sullenly, '

“ and I haven't long to wait. I want money—the
more, the better it will suit me. I did that 10b, and
now I‘m going to clear out and live a better life.”

Silos Pry leu hed sarcastically.

“ You lead a tter life?“ he said, withs grimace.
. “ When that happens, I shall be willing to pay you.

But not till then."

“ What do you mean?" Ogglesby demanded, a
finish glitter coming into his eyes. " You prom-

‘to gay me for burning the tenement."

“Per aps. But promises are cheap. Why, you
old rascal. you‘ve stolen enough out of me to make
a 931‘; m“ “Sign to a t r”

‘ enyou on n n opayme

“ Not a. red cent."

 

“Very well. Inside of an hour every secret I
possess of yours shall be heralded to the four winds."

“Bah! what can you tell that will materially af-
fect me?”

“You shall see that. Supposing the world was to
know how Mrs. Vermill 9 died? S'posing the world
was to know who were he robbers cf the— Bank?
Supposing the world was to know who abducted
General Tracy’s child, years ago, and only to-night
hired me to burn that same child aive, in the old
tenement? Supposing the world at large was to
know all this, and much more, J udgo Vermillye,
alias Silas Pry? Do you not realize how insignificant
a person you would be, and what danger your neck
would be in, of getting entangled in the meshes of
the sheriff’s noose?"

Vermillye had grown white at the words of the
miser, but a glass of wine somewhat restored his
bravado. '

“You dare not make all these exposes," he
growled. " The law would not let you OK no more

han me.”

“ 1 don‘t know about that. I would stand one
chance in a hundred of escaping, by turnin State's
evidence. Besides, if I cannot get money cannot
leave the clt , and my capture, with a dozen detec-
tives at my eels, is only a matter of a few hours,
anyhow. So. if I am captured, I shall make a clean
breast of it!"

“ You devil. I’ve a mind never to let you leave this
room alive " Vermillye hissed, in a passion.

“Try to ill me, if you choose, and see which will
get the most of the bargain!” Ogglesby replied,
pulling a revolver suddenly down out of his coat-
sleeve. “I came prepared for this interview, you
no doubt perceive I”

" Curse you again. How much money do you
want?”

“ Ten thousand dollars, exactly. I will not accept
of nine thousand, nine hundred dollars, and ninct <
nine and three—quarter cents. It must be exactry
ten thousand dollars.” ,

“ Good Heavens. man, are you mad? I have not
so much money in the world!”

“Bah! don‘t lie to me. You have often bragged
of how much you had stored own in yonder safe.
Comcl I will brook no delay. Eit er ten thousand
dollars it is, or you go to prison "

With a sigh as if of despair, Judge Vermillye arose
and advanced toward his safe.

“Do you promise to take your everlasting depart-
ure upon receipt of the money, and never trouble me
again?" he demanded, turnmg upon Ogglesby, half-
suspiciously.

" give my word of honor, as a gentleman,” the
miser re lied, with a smirk. “You know I’m a thor-
oughbre gentleman, and value my integrity next to
my life."

‘You are a fine gentleman," Vermillye sncered
savagely. “But you shall have the money, and i
you ever show up within my sight again, you shall
die, if I have to kill you myself."

“Very well I’ll take your money for it. you can
bet, instead of your word. I shall immediately hie
m self to some Western city, and become the pastor
0 some Betbel church."

Vermiliye did not refily, but kneeling in front of
his safe, began to turn 17 e knob communicating with
the combination lock.

“ Devils!" he gasped. “somebody has been tam-
pering with this look. Beatrice, I‘ll wager, if she has
had need of money. But there‘s one satisfaction.
She might try a lifetime, without getting the safe
open. Ah!"

And the judge opened the door, which swung back
on its ponderous hinges. Then he uttered a. snarl
like some infuriated wild beast.

“I’ve been robbed! I‘ve been robbed!" he gasped,
sinking back upon the floor. his face deathly white.
“ Here—Ogglesby—read this paper, and see what it
says;" and he picked up a document which had fall-
en upon the carpet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

x. 2‘3," 

i
i
i,
l"
r
i

 

 

.h 4   :5

 

Watch-Bye,

the Shadow.

 

 

The miser seized the paper, and glanced it over,
before speaking.

“It is from your daughter, and here is what it
says,” he said.

“ PHILADELPHIA, May -—. 187-.

“ DEAR PAPA2~EFG this reaches you 1 shall be far
away from you, where a lifetime’s search could not
find me. By the time you get this paper, you will
have discovered that your safe is robbed of ever
cent of money, and you will of course lay the the t
to me, which is correct in on. I am the thief—I and
my beloved Mar uis. \ e have been spendin a
week at opening t a safe, and have just succee ed.
The Marquis was an adept in the business, or else we
should not have succeeded. Of course you cannot
blame me. I have always been a kind, indulgent
daughter, and I did want some money so bad, that I
could not resist the temptation to borrow yours. Of
course I borrow it I would not stoop so low as to
steal itl I leave you this note of explanation as so-
curity. It was so good of you to place the money at
my disposal—so extremely good of you, dear pa. Of
course you can easily again make the amount appro-
priated, and in addition, learn a valuable lesson never
to leave your ill-gotten cash where a child can reach
it. As for my dear Marquis, and myself, we shallgo
to some remote corner of the earth, get married,
and live in wealth and honor all the rest of our natu-
ral lives, at your expense.

“ Be ieve me still, dear Papa,
“Your dutiful and ovmg daughter,
“ BEATRICE Vanmnnvn.”

“That is all," Jared Ogglesby said, turning u on
the judge, who was crouching on the ca et be ore
his empty safe, white and speechless. ” I ’s enough
I rackon. eh?"

“ My Godl This is the bitterest blow of all," Ver-
millye groaned. “I never believed Beatrice, with all
her faults, so utterly heartless and unnatural. I am
a ruined man i"

" Yet. despite this fact," Ogglesby said, a spice of
triumph in his tones, " you must somehow contrive
to raise me ten thousand dollars, or—go to prison,
branded as a murderer /"

CHAPTER XIII.
CONCLUSION.

“ Wrurl would you press me to pay you that e'x-
orbitant sum when I am already a beggar?" Vermin-
ye gasped, almost in a frenzy of rage.

“Even so," Ogglnsby assented, stclidly. “I must

have money, and on must furnish it—i care not
how you get it. on have the bank at your dis-
posall”
“ 'Shl" the judge cautioned, giving a terrified
glance around. " Not so loud. I do not want to be
overheard. The bank business is out of the ques-
tion. I fear suspicmns are fastened upon me now.
In God’s name, man, release your hold upon me, and
cave.

“ Never. while I love you so dearly," Ogglesby rc-

lied with a dewlish chuckle. “You are mine,
ilasl’ry. . Tell me you have no money! Why, the
mortga e a ainst racy’s estate amounts to one
hunrlre an sixty thousand dollars, or over."

“ But, I have it not by me. “The mortgage is in the
hands of my attorney, who w1ll foreclose it and sell
the estate at Thomas & Son’s auction-rooms, to:
morrow." ~

“ Then, some other means must be adopted. I
must have the money or you must go to Moyamen-
sing, at once. I will. however, suggest a plan to help
you out. seeing as you have always been a. friend to
me. This man, Tracy, has plenty of money. and
perhaps by breaking into his room, we might-be
able to discover his money, and appropriate it to-
gether. I will he on hand to share it With you and

after you have got the mortgage-money, which I will

 

also share with you, we will flee from this city, to
parts unknown. How like you the idea?"

‘“ I like it not, but will ac uiesoe," Judge Ver-
millye returned, sullenly. “ here are the lodgings
of Gerald Tracy!”

“ In North 13th street. If we go tonight we will
not find him at home, which will be all the better for
ouerurpose.”

“ if not at home, where is he?"

“ in Washington, whither he went to-day, in com-
pan with the man McQuaver."

“ erdition! What are they doing together, and
in Washington i”

" That 1 cannot say. But stay; before we can play
bur lar, we must have disguises."

“ hichI have on hand, in a great plenty. You
know it never pays a man of my stamp to be with-
out them?" . .

And the judge laughed eVilly.

At Ogglesby’s suggestion they set to work imme-
diately in making up for their ex edition. From a
trunk in an adgoming room Vermillye, or Silas Pry,
as we shall in uture call him brought forth numer-
ous suits of clothing, wigs an false beards, and he
and Ogglesby adorned themselves, according to
their particular fancy. The judge cut off his long
beard with a air of shears, and donned a false
heard of a red 1511 tinge, with hair to match, which
gave him altogether a very much changed appear-
ance.

Securing an assortment of keys and house-break-
ors’ tools. which the judge had on hand, they sal-
lied forth into the night.

The Shadow’s rooms were in a tenementvblock
similar to that which Oggleshy had fired, but the
building was a better structure, the tenantsa better
class 0! people, and the neighborhood more aristo-
cratic.

On arriving at the scene of their groposed opera-v
tions Ogglesby led the way up a road staircase
from the street into adimly lighted ball. This they
followed back until its intersection with another hall
which they traversed for a considerable distance.
finally pausing in front of a door, over which was
the number 37.

“ This is the place," the miser announced, ina low
tone. “Give me your keys, and I will see if I can ‘
unlock the door." ,

Silas Pry surrendered the keys, and kept a watch
around them, lest they should e Surprised in their
burglarious act, while his confederate in crime soft-
ly tried to unlock the door.

After trying several keys, he at last found one
that turned in the lockl

“ Come!” he said, in a low tone—‘fthe door is un-
locked, and now is our time." ,

Softly opening t e door. the entered the room,
then reclosed the oor behind t em.

All was dark and silent, but Ogglesby soon struck
a light with a match, which enabled him to find and
light a lamp. 4

" Now be lively," he ordered, setting the light upon
the table. “ Help me to examine every article in
the room which may contain money."

They went to work as rapidly and noiselessly as
practical burglars, overturning and examining each ~
article of furniture, but all to no avail. . _ .

No mom was to be found, and their expedition
was a fruit ess one.

So all that was left for them to do was to take a
cautious departure. . '

“ You sewI cannot get any money l” Silas Pry
said, as they hurried away from the tenement.

“ I shall wait and share the results of the mort-
gage foreclosure," the miser replied coolly. " There
is no use of arguing the point—you must share all
of your remaining wealth with me, or go to man.
I‘ll leave you now, but will meet you again at cross
& Son’s salesrooms, to-morrow afternoon at three,
the hour appointed for the sale of Riverdale.”

at the auction—rooms, on the afternoon of the

 

     

   
   
  
   
   
    
    
  
    
  
     
  
   
  
 
 
 
    
  
  
   
  
 
    
   
     
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
   
   
   
    
  
  

    

30 Watch-Eye, the Shadow.

 

next day, the estate of Riverdale was to be sold and

having been but little advertised there were few in
attendance.

Silas Pry was present, and Jared Ogglesby was not
far awa .

When it was seen that there were no more bidders
likely to come, the auctioneer arose from his seat,
and said:

“Gentlemen, we are about to sell a piece of Vir-
ginia property, known as Riverdale, upon foreclosure
of mortgage. The estate is one of the finest in the
South; has been for man years a plantation. It
was mortga ed to Silas ry, nineteen years ago.
smce when t 9 mortgage has been handed over to
Jud e Felix Vermillye. The first mortgagee, Ger-
ald racy, havin not put in an a pearance, and the
day of payment aving passed t e customary three
days” grace, Judge Vermillye has ordered me to sell
the property for what it will bring, spot cash. It
was ori na 1 mortgaged for sevent -flve thousand.
Now t on, ere is a rare strike or capitalists—
who 11 give a bid to start iti—where’s the man?"

“Twmt dollarsl" shouted a personage in the vi-
cinit or t e door, whose accent savored strongly of
the ‘ ould sod."

Whereupon there was a roar of ion hter.

‘ “Put that man out." roared the auc ioneer, bring-
ing down his mallet, fiercely. " No man with twenty
dollars’ worth of cash or brains will be allowed to bid
on this property."

“ l‘ll start it at ten thousand dollars," announced a
prominent Third street speculator.

“ ’i‘en thousan‘l ten thousan’l ten thousan‘—I have
——who‘ll make it twenty? ten thousan’—who’ll make
it twenty?" the auctioneer cried, starting off in his
sing-song st le.

“Hold! forbid the salel" cried a deep, strong
voice, and there entered the salcsroom Gerald Tra-
cy, accompanied by McQuaver, and J ark Sphinx.

“ By what right do you interfere i” demanded the
auctioneer.

“ Allow me to explain." Tracy said ,cnlmly. “ That
mortgage is not legal, although I supposed it to be
when it was given. I am Gerald Tracy, who gave it
to Silas Pry, in consideration of a loan of fifty thou-

. sand dollars. The mortgage specifies seventy—five

thousand dollars but one-third of that was usury——
which alone disbars the claim. At that time my
wife was iivin , but I did not _ et her consent to the
mortgage, an , therefore, in t e State of Virginia,
the mortgage was not legal, as there. as well as in
Baltimore, where it was given, or in Washington, a
wife must give her consent before a piece of property
can be mort<y get“ This man Vermillye is the same

'Silas Pry t "whom the mortgage was original]

given, and I have a confession from my dead wi e
which implicates him in her murder."

“ And I arrest him in the name of the law!” Jack
Sphinx cried, turning toward where the judge had
stood upon their entrance, “on the charges of mur-
der and robbery 1”

But that time Jack had literally “ counted his
chickens before they were hatched," for taking ad-
vantage of the crowd which had collected, the ex-
posed Silas Pr had slipped from the salesroom, and
was gone. hither, no one could say, for instant
Search resulted in discovering no trace of him.

Of course the sale was stopped, and the ille al
mortgage was canceled afterward. Knowing t 9
crimes and villainy of Silas Pry, Gerald Tracy felt
that he was doing justice to himself, in not paying
any portion of the original loan.

McQuaver it was who had informed him concern-
ing the mortgages illegality. Therefore. upon their
arrival from Washington. and seeing notices posted
of the sale, they had come direct to the salesroom.
Meetin Jack S him: on the way, Gerald Tracy had
hailed im. an explained that he was the ’Rastus
Racket Whom Jack and Nellie had induced to enter
the Reformatory Home, over a year before. This
{was a joyful discovery to Jack, and matters were

'l

 

arranged so that he should take Marion Vermillye‘s '
death confessxon, and arrest Silas Pry upon the
strength of it.

How the matter terminated, the reader has al-
read seen.

At er the scene at the salesroom, the three men
adjourned to a restaurant for dinner. which neither
Tracy nor McQuaver had yet been able to obtain, in
their hurried operations.

While they were eating, the following conversation
took place:

“ I doubt if anything of Silas Pry, alias Judge Ver—
millye, is ever seen again, in this city," Jack ob-
served. “I hear that his dau hter has absconded
with all his ready money, an I guess that about
closes u his career."

“Let im go,” Watch-Eye said. “If he will go
and never return, I shall not ofier to follow him. for
I realize that there will yet be a day of reckoning,
when every man shall have his sins held up before
his eyes. And those who have sinned most, believe
shall sufler most. But one cloud lies between me
yet, and a peaceful future—that is, the mystery of
the whereabouts of my child."

“Your childi7 Did you ever lose one?”

"Yes— cars a o, m girl-baby was stolen away.
by this so (same ilas , and I have never known
of it, until a year ago, since when I have been unable
to find a trace of it.”

“Then, by Jove, I believe I know where your
daughter isl" Jack cried, jumping excitedly to his
feet. “ Do you remember in sweetheart. Nellie,
whom you promised you woul enter the Home?"

“Yes! yesl"

“ Well, there is some mystery concerning her life.
She has, so long as she can remember, been bound to
Jared Oggiesby, one of this Vermillye‘s tools. Who
were her parents, she never has known. But this
Vermiilye has been her enem of late, to that ex-
tent, that he has attem ted to ill her. ‘His hatred
for her has seemed to ate back to the moment he
discovered a birth-mark upon her arm."

“God be raised! I believe 'tis my child—my
long-lost ch' d. Tell inc—this birthmark—what is
its shape?”

“It 15 a crimson star, upon the arm above the
elbowl”

"Hal the same—the same! But, has she not one
upon either arm?"

“Yes, but the one upon the left arm is very faint
walmost colorless."

“Then, show me to her at once, for circumstances
clearly indicate that this is my child. The confession
describes those identical birthmarks, and the fact
that Vermillye recoigized the marks goes to show
that he knew her to my daughter, and wished in
But her out of the way, so that I might never find

erl“

Ofcourse the dinner was intermpted, "and our
friends hastily adjourned to the resxdence of Kate
Carson. where a hap y reunion took place be-
tween the long separa ed father and daughter; for
Gerald Tracy was perfectly satisfied that Nellie
was his daughter, and be thanked God fervently for
the happ restoration.

Jared g lesby and Silas Pry were heard of, later,
in the Far lest, but Gerald Tracy made no effort to
ap rehend the man who had been the bane of his
latIt’er life.

With Nellie. he remode to Riverdale. in Virginia,
but Jack Sphinx soon came to claim her, so that the
returned father was left alone; Not long, however
for he soon brought home a bride in the person of
Kate Carson, for whom he had formed an attach-
ment. And both he and Jack are happy in the pos-
session of true and lovmg wives, and are prospering,
as the world wags on. _

McQuaver is occasionally Wlth them, and is not
sorry for “ taming over a new leaf," for Ihe finds in
a good life, happiness.

THE END.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    
 

32 Octavo Pages.

 

l Deerhunter, the Boy Scout of the Great North Woods.
By 0]] Coomeu.

2 Bufl'nlo Bill, from Boyhood to Manhood. By Col. Pren-
tiu Innrnhmn.

3 Kit Cur-on, King oquiciol. By Albert W. Aiken.

4 Gordon Lillie, the Boy-interpreter ofthe Firms". By
Major. H. B. Stoddard.

5 Bruin Adan", 01d Grizzly’n Boy I’m-d. By Col.
Prentiu lugrnhnm.

6 Deadwood Dick an nBoy. By Edward L. Wheeler.

7 Wild Bill, the Pinto! Prince. By Col. P. lnzrahnm.

8 The Prairie Ranch. By Jouph E. Badger, Jr.

9 Rfivlpllfl Joe: The Hirtory of a “ Border Boy." By A.
. out.

10 Texan Jack, the Mustang King. By Col. l’. lngrnham.

ll Charley Skylark. A Star .fSchonl-dny Scrupeo and
College Capers. By Major . l}. Stoddnrd.

18 Marinara Mnrnh. By Jowph E. Badger, Jr.

18 Roving Ben. By John J. hinrnhnll.

14 Spring Steel, King of the Bush. By J. E. Budger, Jr.
15 inde-Awnke George, the Boy Pioneer. By Edward

l ion.

16 The Boy Wizard. Br Burrv Ringgold.

17 Peter l‘egvergrnn, the Gruenharn iromGnthnm. By
Nonh Nu .

IS Adrift on the Prairie, nnd Amateur Hunter:
on the Bufl'ulo Runge. By 01] Cooxner.

19 The Fortune Hunter; or, Roving Joe nu Miner,
Cowboy, Trapper nnd Hunter. By A. ll. Post.

20 Trapper Tom, the Wood imp. By T. C. Harbnngh.

21 Yellow llnir. the Boy Chief of the l’awnoer. By Col.
Prentiss lugruhnm.

22 The Snow Truil. By T. C. linrbnugh.
28 (Did Grllzzly Allnmn, the Bunr Tamer. By Dr. Frank
owe] .

24 Wood: and “'nters. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.

25 A Rollin Stone: incident: in the Curerr on Sea and
Lnnd oi oi. Prentiu ingrnhnm. By Wm. B. Eynter.

26 Red River Rove“. By C. Dunning Ciuk.

27 Plaza and Plain; or, Wild Adventure: of“ Buck-kin
Sam,” (Muj. Sum. S. Hall.) By Col. P. lngrlhnm.

28 The Sword Prim-e. The annnlic Life of Col. Mon-
atery. By Capt. Frodarick Whittaker.

29 Snow-Shoe Tom. By T. C. i-lnrbaugh.

30 Paul dc Lney, thc Franch Bent Chnrmer. By C.
Dunning Clark.

81 Round the Camp Fire. By Joneph E. Badger, Jr.

82 \Vhlte Beaver, the Indian Medicine Chief. By Col.
l’rculiq lngruhmn.

83 The Boy Crusader. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

8 l The Chane of the GrentWhite Etnz, Ind, Camp
and Canoe. By C. Dunning (,‘inrk.

853 (Nd an Knuckle and Ill! Boy Chums. By
Roger Smrhnck. _ ‘

86 The Dnnhln Dragoon: or, Tho Story of Gen. George
A. Cullor. y Cuyt. Fred. Whitinker.

8? nght-llnwk George. By Cnl. Prentlu ingralmn.

88 The Boy Exiles of Siberia. By T. C. llnrbnugh.

89 The Young Bcnr lluntcrn. By Morris Redwing.

40 qurt film, tho Lad with I Level llud. By Edward
“Hunt.

41 The Srttlcr’n Son. By Edvard S. Ellin.
42 Walt Ferguson’s Cruise. By C. Dunning Cluk.

 

 

48 Rifle nnd Revolver. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. «
44 The Lost Boy “'hnlern. By T. C. Hubnugh.

45 Bronco Billy, the Saddlo Prince. By Col. Prontlu
Ingrnlmm.

46 Dick, the Stownwny. By Charles Morris.

4’? The Colorndo Bo s or,Liie on an Indi Pl t t
By Joseph E. lindgery, Ji’. “0 “n I ion.

48 The anpns lluntern; or, New York Boy: in
Buenol Ayres. By T. C. Huh-ugh.

49 The Adventl Lii’ i' N .
By c.1.1>....u'.§‘f.'.',?m1..n§ ° °"'”"‘“ “am”

50 Jnek llnrry nnd Tom tho'l'h e Ch ‘
By dapt. Fnd. wnmné. ’ e mp‘on BMW”

51 The Young Lnnd-Lubber. By C. D. Clark.
52 The Boy Detectives. By T. C. Hnrbnugh. .

53 Honest llnrr : or The Count B Ad ' 1
City. lly Chnr el Mérriu. ry 0y "n n the

54 Culli'ornln Joe, the Mystericul Pinimmnn. By Col.
l‘rentiis ingmhum.

55 Tip Treuel, the Floater. By Edward Willett.

56 The Snow Hunters; or, Winter in tho Woodl.

B
Barry do Farrelt. y

52' llnrry Some", the Sailor Bay Magician. By S. W.
Pearce.
58 The Adventuroun Lli'e of (in tnln/ Jack, the

Border Day. By Col. Prentice ingrn mm.
59 Lame, Tim, the Mule Boy offithu Mimi. By Charles
Morris.

60 The Young Trail Hunters or New Y k B ‘
Grizzly Loud. By '1‘. C. linrhnufzh. , or 0y. “I

61 The Tiger Hunter” nr,’l‘he Colorado Boy: in Elo-
plmnt Lund. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

62 Doctor- Cnrver, the "Evil 'Spirit " of the Plains. By
Col. l’reulisc lngrnhmn.

68 Black "0 Bill ti B dit W .
Sun—1mm. roe , In an reckcr By Roger

64 Yonn Dick Tnlbotl 0r, A Bo "- R h
Fightfirnm New York to California. Byflx. mdzizgih

65 The Dov Pilot; or,Thc lalnnd Wrecker.

l‘rentiru lnzmlmm. By COL

66 The Desert Rover; nr,Stownw-y Dick Among the

Aruba. lty Churles Mums.

6? Texas Charlie, the Boy Ranger. By Col. Prentis-
lngmhmu.

68 Little Rifle' or The Youn F H i . ’ ' ‘
“ Bruin " Am’umf g M “n m By CHM"

69 The Yollnlehilldt: or. AYankee Boy Among the

Runsiunn. iiy (Ilmrles Morris.

70 Pony the Uowbo or The Yn r M i ll‘ ’
By A injor H. B. Stoht rtrd,’l£vacoulx.‘g a" m . Raid.

71 Rnfl'Robnartund Ilia Bear. By Cnptnin “ Bruin "
Adlml.

Beadle’n Boy’s Library in for sale by all Newsdealen,

live cents pcr copy, or sent by mail on receipt of-ix cent: ouch.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
98 William Street, New York.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

32 ocnvo mans. /

gram... 

POCKET LIBRARY.

 

 

O O 0 0 ° ° ° 93.29.93}. 99.93.0339 0 °

\ ISSUED EVERY

o c: o o o o o o 0'5 0 o o o o 6625665666

WEDNESDA Y.

 

‘l Deadwood Dl k, th Prince of tho Rmfld.
ward L. W healer.

Knnmm King; or, The Red Right Hand. By Bull
lac Bill.

The Flylnu Yankee; or, Thu Ocean Outcast. By
Col. Prentiss Ingrnhnm.

The Double Daggers. By Edward L. Wheeler.

The Two Dcteotlvcn. By Albert W. Aiken.

The Prairie Pilot. liy Buffalo Bill.

The Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures.
liy Edward L. Wheeler.

Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oil Coomes.‘

Nell Wylil e. the Boy Scout. lly “ Texan Jack ”
(J. B. Omohundrn).

l'llmtlo Ben, the Prince of the Pistol. By Edward
I. Wheeler.

Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccaneer. liy C‘I. Ingraham.

Nick 0' the Night; or, The Boy Spy ol’is. By T.
U. linrlmnuh.

Yellowstone Jack. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.

VVlld Ivan, the Boy Claude Dnvul. By Edward L.
Wheeler.

Diamond Dirk. By Colonel Prontiau Ingmhnm.

Keen- Knife, Prince of the Prairlvo. By Oll Gunman.

Oregon Sol: nr, Nick VVhiflles’s Boy Spy. By Capt.
J. F. C. Adams.

Death-Fave, the Detective. By E. L. Wheeler.

Lam! Jun-k. Hy Oil Coomca.

Roaring Ralph Roekwood, the Reckless Ranger.
By Ilarry St. Gnome.

The Boy Clown. By Frank  Firm.

The Phantom Miner. By Edward L. \Vhecicr.

The Sea-Cat. liy Captain Frederick Whittaker.

The Dumb flpy. By 011 Canines.

Hauling: lluhe. By ilnrry St. Georgu.

Old Avalanche, thoGrent Annihilator. By Edward
.. Wheeler.

Gin ‘fl-l‘iye, the Great Shnt of the West. By Capt. J.
F. C. Adams.

The Boy Captaln. By aner Stnrhnck.

Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. By Capt.
H'erinriok Whittaker.

Bob “’00”, the Border Ruffian. By E. L. Wheclur.

Nightingale Nat. By T. C. linrhauuh.

Black John, the Road Agent. By J. E. Badger. Jr.

lhnaha I)“, the Maskvrll Terror. By E. L. “’iumhsr.

Burt BunkerY the Trapper. By George E. Lusnlle.

The Boy Rifles. By A. C. Irons.

The White B ffnlo. By George E. Lanalle.

Jim Bludnoe, Jr. By Edward“- Wheeler.

Natl Hazel, the Boy Trapper. By Capt. J. F. C.
Adams.

Deadly Eye, the Unknown Smut. Tiy Buffalo Bill.

Nick \Vhll‘llen’n Pet. Tiy Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

Deadwood Dlt-k’n Eaglea. By E. L. “’heuicr.

The‘Bordcr King. 12y Oil Canines.

0111 Hickory. By Harry St. George.

The “finite Indian. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

Duckhorn Bill. By Edward 1.. Wheelch

The shadow Ship. lly Cul. Prentiss Ingrahnm.

By Ed-

 

Thc Red Brotherhood. By W. J. Hamiltnn.
Dandy Jack. By T. C. Harlmugh.
Hurricane Bill. By Jospph E. Badger, Jr.
Slngle "and. By W. J. Hamilton.
Patent-leather Joe. By Philip S. Warnc.
The Border Robin Hood. By Buli‘nlo Bill.

Gold Rifle, the sharpshooter. By Edward L.
heeler.

Old le’s Cabin. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.

Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy.
Coonxen.

Mad Tom Western. By W. J. Hamilton.
Deadwood Dlek on Deck. By E. L. Wheeler.
Hawkeye Harry. liy ()ll Conmer.

The Boy Duelist. By Col. I’rcntisa Ingrnham.
Abe Colt, the Crow«K ller. By Alhort \V. Aiken.

Corduroy Charlie, tha Boy Bravo. By Edward L.
Wheeler.

“Fill Somera, the Boy Detective. By Chas. Morril.
Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapncv. By A. W. Aihon.
Rosebud Rob. By Edward I... Wheeler.

Lightning Joe, the Terror of the Prairie.
J. F. C. Adnum.

Kit llarefoot, the \Voorhl'lnwk. Tiy T. C. liar.
bnugh.

Rollo, the Bay Ranger.
my], the Girl Miner.

Delcetive Dick; or, The Here in Raga. By Charles
Ol'l'l‘.

Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifluman. ByOll Cnnmcl.

Sharp Sara; or, The Adventure! ofa Friend era I’my.
liy J. Alexander Patten.

The Lion ofthe Sea. By Albert W. Aiken.

Photo raph Phil, the Boy Sleuth. By Edward L.
When gr.

By on

By Capt.

By 011 Cnmuas.
By Edward 1,. Wheeler.

Picayune Pete; or, Nicodemus, the ling Detective.

By Charles Morr a. ..

' Inland Jinx; or. The Pet nfthe Family.

By Bruce-
hritlgu llmnyng (1’)“ k Harknwny).

76
77

\Vatch-Eye, the Shadow. By Edward L. Wheeler.

Dick Dead Eye, the Bay Smuggler. By Col. P. In<
graham.

’?8 Deadwood Dick’s Device.
' Ready July .‘th.

79 The “’lld llarne-lluntera.
Reid and Frederick Whittaker.

By Ed. L. “'heeler.
Ry Captain Mayan
Ready July 15lh.
80 Old Frosty, the Guide. liy i‘. c. Ilnrhnugh. Ready
.luiy m.

81 The Sen.Dcvll; or. Tim Midshipmnn'a Legacy.

ll
Col. 1‘. Ingrnhmu. Randy July ‘J‘Jth. y

Beadle’n Pocket Library in fur sale by all News—
(ivnlorl, five could put copy, or sent by mail on receipt of rix
cents each.

BEADLE & ADAMS, Publlahern,
98 “’llllam Street, New York.