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.. Published Weakl b Beadle nd Adumn .. . ,
V01. III 3.: (513’. No. 98 szuuys-r" New Yong. ' I“: aim. N0: 18-

DEATH-FABE, The Degptiyg; °"  m .

BY ED‘VARD L. ‘VHEELER,
Au'rmm our “mumwoon max.“ "DOUBLE moamns," "WILD IVAN." mu, ITO.

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DEATH-FACE TRAPPED.

 

    
  
 
  
    
  
  
   
  
 
   
     
  
   
 
 
  
  
  
   
   
   
  
 
   
 
   
   
   
  
 
   
    
   
   
  
 
  
      
     

; 3/

_, hut exceedingly

Death-Face,

, THE DETECTIVE;
, , m
Life and Love in New York.

BY EDWARD L. WHEELER.
Amos or “nunwoon max." “nouns moons,"
“ammo ass." “wins IVAN.“ no.

CHAPTER I.
ran manor m CENTRAL max.

'l‘mt last lingering rays of the golden sunset of an
AW day-a warm, sultry, breathless da in the
gent metropolis—were throwin a halo of s iimmer-

3' light over the crowded par with its throng of
moving pedestrians and handsome carriages—its
trees, flowering shrubs. beds of fragrant blossoming
downs, and sloping lawns, and over the pretty lake,
dotted with rowboats filled with pleasure-seekersi
and tiny white sails that looked pictu us an

, may as they danced across the waters, cfore a
nt breeze that evening brought on—a breeze that
had been lacking during the hot. parched. feverish
day, within the narrow streets, and filthy courts of
the great, bustling city. I

They were all here in one realistic picture, these

people of the city—the rich and the or, the high
'and the low, and he ood and the ; come out to
enjoy thesunset, the elicious breeze. and the exhila-
rating, romantic influences of the hour,

The rustic seats were full, the arbors and flower-
covered bowers were all occu led, and the green
enact of grass strewn with dis loun'zers. some
asl p some reading. others gazing at and comment-
i on the assers-bv.

- nd Ce a Orwlck, only a r sewing-girl. to be
sure, had come hither into t s paradise of trees and
mowers, and in a little vine-embowered arbor. un-
seen and safe from intrusion, where she could watch
the lake, the drive and its gay equipages, and the in-

nt moving panorama of figures. was watching
the dying glow upon the horizon, and waiting.

Waiting Ah! the word was so inexpresmbly long
and meaning it seemed to her, as the moments wore
by and the shadows gathered.

A pretty little thing was Celia. and. men often

sed to gaze back after her. as she along
he street-not because she was ay. or , or
fsscina’ing, nor because of her re; but" there was
somethin attractive ani pretty about her that
created miration and drew attention. .
Only seventeen. yet old in education and in intel-
lectual growth beyond her years, and ” finished" in
a modest way that was prepossessln in itself. Petite
graceful of form. th 9. ‘fair, sweet
hoe-whiter than health would demand, the -
browmspsrkiing eyes. and hair line on .soft and
flowing. unconfined, to the tapering a car-
riage naturally regal. ‘
Her dress was painfully lain and at contrast with
her pretty.self. s mply a w he muslin, relieved 'of its
monotony bye bunch of red roses at t t:
and yet she looked sweetly beautiful in it and her
little straw hat and dainty out-door slippers
—-_looked ivinely thou ht one who was looking at
her. unobserved thorug one of the lattice windows.
He had been there just ten minutes. us a her,
asshe in turn watched the

for scene, and , ‘ Ted

ough nerallygenia o e ression.had
paws/rte anthem: the are of a Wand resolute
will. Notr‘a man t waste, you counted the
Mia-1t  are about Bay-
lnond attained his madorlty. but his nth, figure
hndsllthegrsoesof manhood. and in face he looked
really older. A handsome face you would say, it

 

Death-Pace. the Detective.

 

was so round and good-natured, vet dissipation had
left hauntln traces there, and he 8 es showed it
more than 0 other features. But f dress could
add to one‘s personal appearance, it was not lackin

in Dandy Dock, for his general make-up was deci -
ed] borderin upon the "exquisite."

l Celia Orw ck was conscious of the lances level-
ed at her. she was a skilled actress, for y no not or
move did she betray the possession of such knowl-
edge; indeed, she started violently at Dock‘s pecu-
liar little laugh, and almost screamed when she be-
held him standing upon the threshold.

“ You, Mr. Raymond! How you frl htened mei
Were you standing there long?" she as ed. her face
a trifle more reddened than usual.

“Yes. Cele; have been standing out there, and
gazing at ou in raptures. for full ten minutes.

ovel you 00k sweet enough to eat, to-night; and
to think of you coming here toenjoy what ain't ai-
lotted to poor mortals in this confounded city—a
streak of sunshine. Do you come here frequent i“

“No, I do not often get this far," she replied, er
gaze dropping to the floor, a pleased ex ression set-

tling about her cherry lips. “ It is a on distance
and we can't always spare the car-fare. ster- Nel-
ly comes ofmner t an "

" And that‘s because sister Nelly has net a trifle

more ambition than sister Celia,“ replie Dock. as—
surineg. coming forward to occupy the remaining
portion of the seat.

“ You are too much of a home body for your own
good; pet; don‘t give a fellow even a chance to see

“ Why should you want to see me, Mr. Raymond?
You know where we live."

“ Yes, I know where, and used to dro in occasion~
ally but on remember another occup ed my place.
the last t me I called.”

“ Yes.“ the girl assented, a pained expression
shadowing her features. “ I remember. It was Mr.
A—: but you do not know him. I ess."

“ Luckily for him. no—luckily. cause my flsts
are in a prime condition for a pugilistic encounter
You treated me rather cool that night. so I conclud
I'd best take a scull, as the boys say."

“ Oh that is untrue. Mr. Raymond; I did not use
you coolly)" Celia said. renmachfully. “ You have
always been too true a friend to me and Nelly, for
that. I am sure I—l-”

And tears came into the pretty eyes that, in Dock
Raymond's opinion. were incomparable.

‘ Of course you did. dear," he replied, soothingly.

,venturing to encircle her waist with his strong arm.

and drawing her toward him—"of course you did.
I was only teasing, that‘s all. I saw how matters
were—that you had more smiles for the new beau
than the old—and thought it my duty to resign.
There, now. dry those tears or I shall be tempted to
kiss them away."

“No. ou mustn't—that would not be right. you
know. y," she said. putting her white hands over
her face, as he made a faint at putting his threat
into execution. .

“ And. does that fellow still visit you. Cele! Don‘t
seewhat you admire in him, except it is his glib
tongue. for he's sourer-lonking than a pickle."

Celia did not repl immediately. She was gazing

way across the l t e sail-dotted expanse of water.
and noting how fast the night-shades were gather-
ing. v Oi! yonder through the trees the first gleam of
a gas-lamp shone like a twinkling star.
“ “He dop‘t come any more," she finally replied.

“For him to meet you here. eh?" corn leted Dock.
with a little lau h. ‘ I thought someth or unusual

did not answer, and he regarded her silence
as a hint to go. arcse. wi a
“Don‘tgo,Ray—not ust yet " s e said,hervoice
low and trembling. “ will tell you when, and you
needn't be oifended,“

. ht ouou. An perha heme evennowbe
2%“ ormetovsegte?" p. y ‘

 

-: new

 

 

 

 

 

‘ Death-Pace. the Detective.

./Y9

 

“ Neither I will, dearest." he said. reseating him-
self, and gathering her in his arms. “Cele Celel
do you know how much I love vouf Have you not
seen all the while that my love is only for you 7"

She trembled from head to foot, and he could feel
the beating of her heart against his arm, but she did
not try to release herself—only bowed her head upon
his breast, and wefig‘plteously. She did not refily,
but he felt that he an answer more assuring t an

words.

He held her there, while the night came striding
on, softly caressing her soft hair, and waiting for—
he hardly knew what.

She amused at last, sat up, wiping away the tears
that had reddened her eyes.

“ You may a, now, Ray," she said, pressing the
hand that hel hers. “ And, I want you to promise
that you will not lin r near, an eavesdropper."

He rose, after kis n her on the lips.

“ You needn't fear, ele " he replied, something of
reproach in his tone. "I have got a matter to at-
tend to in the Bowery, and it is time I was there.
Don't stay here lon . The ple are beginning to
leave already. I w sh I cou d see you home."

“ Not to-night, Bay, on his account. But, is!) may
come and see me, some time. No one will there
in vour we .“

"‘ And I will, bet high on that Cele, yo '. darling;"
and then snatching a last kiss, he left the arbor and
hurried away toward the city, whose countless lights
had all been lit.

Celia watched his handsome, stylish figure until it
had disappeared among the throng: then she turned
wearily around, as a footstep sounded. and a man
step within the arbor.

A ll, graceful young fellow, attired in the hight
of fashion, and faultless in almost every particularas
far as personal appearance was concerned. His face
was darkly handsome in its well-chiseled features.
and his e es and jetty curling hair matched well with
his comp exion. But the expression about his mouth
was more cruel than pleasing. Diamonds were
liberally worn uponhis s irt-front and huge and
the chain across his white vest was of heavy go d.

.Celia saw him, and he came forward, an angry
gleam in his dark eyes.

“80 you are alone, at last, eh t" he said, half-sav
agely. “ I‘ve been waiting half an hour or more for
that uppy to leave."

“ ou came too early, ' Celia answered. calmly.
“I said at dusk, in my note.“

“ Yes. and that was a pretty note too, wasn't it!
I gave you credit for more sense. If that note had
b any mischance been lost, and its contents got
a road, I should have been ruined l"

"Indeed!" Celia had chsn .d wonderfully in this
man‘s presence. She was on d, calm and collected.
She knew she was facing a tiger. and must be equally
brave. “ You were warned, once before. in less em-
phatic words of the impending trouble, and paid
no heed. When last I wrote, I wanted to make my-
self understood, Ned St. Cloud!"

“Curse it. you are growing lmpudent. I did not
come, becausel had important business on hand,"
replied the man, digging into the floor of the arbor
with the heel of his tent-leather boot. “ And now
that I am here. wha do you want!" '

It was several moments before he was answered;
then the reply came in words of weight—in the cool,
measured tones of the desperate girl:

“You should know, well enou h. Ned, without
asking ne—you do know, and are remblinfaon the
verge of ruin, where one word of mine will p on you.
You must marry me might I"

He started to his feet, with a fierce oath, then re-
sented himself 0 its her again.

“ You are a foo , girl," he said, haughtlly. “You
think I fear you and that you can t him over
me. but you will ilnd to your cost tha I am not to
be brow-beaten. I told you I could not many on
at present, and you could not let that suffice, ut
must send me an insulting letter."

o

seemed drooping and list

 

"Insulting!" Celia laughed scornfully. "No one
can insult a man of your cloth, Ned St. Cloud. It is
im ssible. True, you told me on would m
an acknowledge me, some time, ut I cannot wait—-
cannot, I say; more, will not. Oh! how I hate, loathe
and despise on, and et Lou must marry me——at
once—to—nig t, or, as od my judge, l'll—"

“What?” he asked, coolly, thou h there was a
frightened look in his eyes. “Who 7"

‘ I’ll make you marry mc—I‘ll go to our father— '
I'll advertise you through all the soc al circles of
New York, as a black-hearted scoundrel l"

" And t laughed at for your painsl"

"No! ‘11 not get laughed at, either you villain
but I‘ll make you such an object of attention, that
you'll be lad to hide your face."

“There there!" he gasped, “ be quiet, for I take
it all back. But I cannot marry you—not yet."

” You must— on shall; this very night, or go to
the magistrate n the morning, whichever you will."

" I'll do neither. You shall not divul e a word con-
cerning our relations. I swear it, you s ie-tig'ressi"

He had stepped nearer, his eyes gleaming with
fu . and they stood face to face, the wronged girl.
an the man who had been her worst enemy. -

“ Marry me, to—night or every one of your friends
and ac uaintances sha —“

She id not finish—she could not, for, like a pan-
ther, he was upon her, his two hands around her
throat in a terrible grasp. With the ferocity of a
madman he held her, his gripe never relaxi until
he was satisfied the foul work was done. An when
he ut her back upon the rustic bench the heart of
Ce] a Orwick had ceased to beat.

“Dead, b heaven!" he gasped, looking askance
at the purp e face and throat.

Then, with a shudder, he turned and stealthilK
made his way out of the dark arbor, joining In wit
the great crowd.

Half an hour later he emerged from the park on
Fifth avenue, and hailing a ca , sprung in, and was
whirled rapidly away.

 

CHAPTER I].
AN imavrnw wrrs on. serum. r

Tns day following St. Cloud’s murderous assault,
was but a counter; art of its predecessor. The sun
poured down upon the metropolis its intense heat,
and not a brea h of air was stirring. Everythin
seemed withered and burnt by the scorchin rays;
the sidewalks and avements were blazing wit heat;
even the flies in t e fllthly gutters of Baxter street

ess from the arid influence
of the sun.

All whom important business did not I: e out
were pretty sure to make the best of their elter,
while those unlucky ones who were perforce driven
out, took the shady side of the street, and their lei.
sure to perform their duties. '

At noon, when the heat was about the greatest a
young gentleman might have been seen hu
along Baxter street. in defiance of the wilting power
of the sun. At nearly every other saloon where
cooli bevera was dispensed, he stepped in. and-
each t we on is return to the burning street, ap-
peared somewhat refreshed.

He was tall, strong-limbed, and otherwise well
proportioned, and att red in the dress-suit of a West

at cadet, which well di layed his figure. In
ace he was tolerably goo docking, though his
cheeks were bloated a trifle, and dissipation hadleft
marks about his eyes, which were of a lusterless
gray color. His hair, of a light brown hue. was
sheared close to his skull, and a light mustache on
his’lip wascarefully waxed to a needle‘s point at the ,

on s.

Without lookin around him in either direction, he
hurried aloughmmat last used in front of a two-
story brick rerun me left-hand side of the
street, going up. The blinds and door were tightly

 

 

     
    
   
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
   
   
  
 
   
  
  
  
   
    
  
 
    
  
   
   
  
   
   
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
   
      

 

4 Death-Pace. the Detective. o

closed, and one might have supposed the building
empty but fora. p nted tin sign upon the window
ledge. bearing the inscription: _

“ DR. J. C. HsinLn,"

in larze, showy letters.

" This is the lace, I believe," muttered the cadet,
advancing upt este s and (pulling the bell, vigor-
ously. “Iwonder i the ol curmudgeon receives

V patients at this hour?"

In answer to the ring, a colored youth appeared
, at the door, and stared curiously at the uni orm of
the caller.

"Lordyl you isn‘t a ‘lice officer am out" was
the question put, and t e whites of the oy‘s eyes
showed wild y.

“No, you fool," replied the cadet, curtly. “ Is
your master in?"

“No, sar- he has stepped out," responded the
youth, in all truth.

“Go tell him a gentleman has called who has a case
of vital im rtance. wherein there is a good speck.
D.) ou nu erstand, you rascal?"

T e boy nodded, and closing and locking the inner
hall door after him. went on his errand. He soon
returned, however, and admitted the cadet.

Lathe second story front the learned doctor was
presented to the cadet, who, without ado, accepted

‘ a. seat and lit a cigar.

The doctor was a short man, whose age probably
bordered upon fifty, with a round little face. evil in
its expresSion, peculian glittering little blacks es,
and long curli hair, w ich touched his shouli ers.
lie was palnfu ly large of irth, and made an odd
figure when settled down in is huge arm-chair.

‘He received the cadet with an inquiring nod, and
.then gave some order to the colored youth, in a low
tone, after which the boy hurried out.

“ You have imEortant business with me, my
lrlend, I believe," e said, with a slight German so

3 cent.
‘ “ Yes, I have," was the reply, “ if you are the Dr.

Heidle whom I seek—the same who has a. private
as lum for insane peo is in—"

‘No matter just w ere, lease. Yes, I am the
same man. What shall I ca you, my friend?"

“ Ainsworth, for the present, Clifford Ainsworth."

“Very flood Mister Ainsworth, very good. And
now what can I do for you?"

The cadet glanced cautiously around, as if appre-
hending eavesdroppers.

“Oh! you need not be afraid to s ak out!“ the
doctor hastened to so , with ashrugo his shoulders.
“These walls are al padded. I could murder you,
and our screams won d never be heard.”

“ that cue I shall feel easier," Ainsworth re
pliedrwith a. smile. “ My business is secret. in so far

. that it would be my death-warrant to let my little

" . raisin!

 
 

    

~‘ sham chin, calmly. v "Or are

set abroad. I understand, sir, that you receive
patients in your private as lum, for a moderate re-
muneration per annum. this so, or have I been
I armed " ‘
“Obi yes, I occasionally receive patients—quite
often, in fact. Tgfinstitutlon is under my personal
' an raisiop, and outs receive the best of care and
- n

v 5‘ So I hive heard. And I have also been informed

‘ ,1th you do not require a person to be wally insane,

to insure an entry into your place, and that after
lostwlthin those prison walls. there is no hope for
their ever escaping without apermit from you. for

the kee .
The doctor tipped back in his arm-chair. and
at his visitor keenly. Md
{"Hsve you got an one £3ysoii wish put in the as -
~ him, never to come at un you say so. or cease
pay the bill?“ he demanded, stroking hi. smooth-
you endeavorin to
learn what you can so that you can put it to ot er
hnwvtounake u a rt?"

. , or. licere
. ' '-“N , lotto: .,¢ertainly, utptge toriggr. possi-

   

 

 

 

bly, if we can come to satisfactory terms. Now,
then, I suppOSe what I say is in strictest confidence
with on. It must go no further."

“ oneed to fear me " returned the doctor. “ Any
of those with whom I have had dealings will vonc
for my responsibility."

“ Very well My case is this: Between two of us
—m se f and a female cousin—there is a matter of
a. m ion dollars pending. The sum total was left to
my cousin while , being a. wild out in the field, came
in with only an allowance of a. home with my cousm
if I chose to accept of it and five hundreds. year
for pocket change. But, in case my cousm and I
should marry, two<thirds of the money returns to
me.‘
“Ah yes I perceive. Why not use other means
then, than he asylum? I can fix you n a powder
which could be slipped into her tea, an I will defy
the sharpest chemist to discover a trace of p0ison
after the work is done. It is sure. safe and quick!"

Ainsworth shook his head, with a shudder, at the
proppsition.

“ o! I want no murder on my hands," he said
decidedly. “ Besides, it is imperative that she shall
live. For, in case or her death, I only get half of
the legacy. It was my uncle's fond desire to see us
two man and wife, but death snatched him 01!, sud—
denly, and so he left us situated as I have illustrated.
Now, in cousin hates me in the most approved Insh-
ion, an no inducement of a mild nature will ret me
so ingratiaied that an early marriage will be t ie re-
sult. Therefore, it behooves me to adopt harsher
measures. If I can imprison hei‘ for a time, perhaps
she will marry me: or, if she will not, I can then
have her put out 01' existence. and live on the half a
million.“

“Exactly. And, saying you receive but the half,
where will the remaining half go to, sir?"

“ To various public benevolent institutions through
out the country—a large share to the poor."

“Very well. Your plans seem about your onlv
hope, young man. Bring the rl to me——or. still
better, I will see to her remov —and she shall re-
ceive safe quarters, and you need never fear that
she will intrude upon you. so long as you pay the
annual fee for her confinement."

“ And that will be?”

“Four thousand dollars, if you please, invariably
in advance."

“ What? Are you crazy, man?" the astounded
fadeitfiemanded, starting up. “ Four thousand dol-
ars. '

“Precisely, sir, and you needn‘t accept the offer
at that figure, unless you choose to do so, as lam
not anxious to get patients of your kind."

“ But. heavens! that is beyond the bounds of
reason. even. I had not thoughttopay overas many
hundred."

The doctor laughed. coolly, and drummed on the
table with his fingers. evidently enjoying the other's
discomfiture. _

“You can find cheaper institutions in the city, no
doubt,” he remarked, pouring out a glass of Rhlne
wine, and swallowing.r it at a gulp. “There is Dr.
Barker's ‘Home '—charges only about eight hun-
dred: or Sedton‘s ‘ Retreat,” at a. thousand: but both
places were gutted by the authorities, last year, and
are even now under police surveillance. My lace is
so private that no one .even suspects that it s more
than a residence, and its prominent location on the
avenue shields it from suspicion. it is absolutely
sate. r, if you Wish to go out of town—“

“ No, I do not wish to leave New York, if there is
help for it," replied Ainsworth. “ But you can
aflord to knock oi! a. couple of thousand, doctor."

“No, indeed. My fee is small enough at five. con-
nidering the risk I am running. Blackwell's Island
has no tent charm! for me.’

“ pose if those are our 11

I 3'13 you
will have to e the job, for two housan down in

be satisfactory!”

‘ _+;-..._;;;   _ .. . pimps  V. ,

cash. and a check on the Third National. Will that I

..___._,-.s\f,.

:x-r

        
   
    
     
    
   
    
    
     
    
    
         
           
     
 

 

 

 

Death-Pace.

“ Not at all. I must have all cash. Checks do not
answer my pur use."

With a muttered execration, Aiusworth took a
hug: wallet from an inside pocket. and counted out
a s ck of bills upon the table, some of which were
fresh, crisp ones. while others were older and more
worn.

The “ young " ones Dr. Heidle counted out from
the older, and handed back to the cadet, with a cool,
calculatin smile, that spoke volumes.

“If on ave any more of those of a maturcr age.
I shou d prefer them," he said. with keen sarcasm.

"Wh '1' what‘s the matter with these new ones?"

deman ed the plotter. an angry flush dyeing his .

face.

“ Nothin much. only I don’t handle the ‘quver 'l"
was the rep y. in significant tones. “ You should have
known better than to try any raines on me. young
man. Supposing I had taken t ose cleverly execu-
ted counterfelts. and after I had caged your bird,
some of them had come back on mol‘ As a result
I should have gone to prison. and you may rely up-
on it I should not have gone 010/. e,’"

“ You have a sharp eye to detect what thousands
are daily failing to detect!" replied Ainsworth, with
a. shrug. “ It is seldom one of those bills is pro-
nounced bad."

“I recognized them immediately. becauSe I was
once in the business l" was the old villain’s announce-
ment. “One more fifty, please~there. that is all
correct, I believe, And. now. about the patient:
Where does she live?"

“ At No. — Fifth avenue."

“ Ugh! that is bad. ‘MnSL any other street would
be better for my urpose. Does she go out much?”

“Not this went Ier. It is too sultry. You must not
before next Tuesday, as that is the day appointed
for her departure for Newport.”

“ Hum. yesl Has she any particular female
friends?”

“ A few, I believe.
acquaintance. Resides at No. ~ 28th street.
Miss Lulu Marolin. at No. -- 27th street."

“Ah l yes," The doctor jotted down the addresses
upon a piece of paper.

“ Her name is—l'"

“ Amy Elwood."

“ An your correct name— 9" '

“ Icannot give. I am to lemain incog."

“Oh! no. You cannot do that. young man, and
leave the girl with me.“

“ I‘B’ut I will not give my real name. It is danger-

ous.
“ And equally dangerous for me to undertake
your case. wit hout yourfnll name and address. Sup-
pose I should get warning that the cops were about
to make a descent upon my asylum. I should im‘
mediately want to rid myst of incumhrances.
And. then, what would I do, in case I was ignorant
of your name?"

“ Well-—" Ainsworth reflected a few moments, a
fork lstco'wl upon his face—" I suppose you‘ll have to

lave .‘

He took the doctor’s pencil. and wrote a name and
address u n a sheet of paper. Heidle took it and
put it in h s wallet. with a nod.

“ I shall in uire at the address if such a party re-
sides there." e said. inanirestin hisdis sltion of
cunning. “ if not. I shall do noth ng in t e matter.
and you will forfeit your money. It is always the
best to be on the safe side. you know."

Amy (lhyle is a very intimate
Also

co;0iligtg§si- gfiiI-tggniy. And, now, if our bargain is
“ ery well. But: one thing more: has thisyoung

lady any favored lovers-such ones as would he apt
to create a disturbance if she turns up missing? You
should look well to this. " r

“ None. I believe. except it is a young fellow, whom
she occasionall receivas. by the name of Harry Con—
rov. I doub i he is in town, now. however!)

This finis ed Cadet Ainsworth‘s business With the
doctor, and a few minutes afterward he left the

the Detective. ‘5

house and made his way out of Baxter street. Half
an hour later he was u lot] Broadway. mingling with
the crowd. that, deep to the patching heat. were
Bromenadin : and there was an exultant smile upon

is face, wh ch hoded no good to poor Amy Elwood,
th? victim of as diabolical a plot as man often con-
ce ves.

 

 

CHAPTER III.
A vxtumons ACT.

Tm: home of Amy Elwood was located upon Fifth
avenue, in one of the hundreds of grand, imposing
residences, which line that noted thoroughfare.

It was a large pretentious structure. set in a pret-
ty shrub-fringed lawn. where beds of rare flowers
were in blossom. It was a lovely place even for the
aristocratic avenue. and one might wellenvy the fair
heiress her possessions.

Inside. the house was furnished richly and luxurie
ously throughout, and superior taste was displayed
in the arrangement of everything.

On the morning following the day of Cadet Ains-
worth‘s visit to Doctor Heidle in Baxter street, two
persons were seated by the open window of the crim-
son drawing-room. one smoking and go zing out upon
the avenue, while the other, a young girl of not over
eighteen years. was looking over t 6 columns of a
morning paper.

A fair. pretty picture she made. in her loose-fitting
wrapper, with a tie of lace and ribbons at the throat.
A fair. glorious lrl was Amy Elwood. the young
heiress of all old ohn Kent's countless thousands.

Rather slight. but yet exceedingly raceful of
build, she was possessed of a Pleasingfiigure wo-
manly and symmetrical. and a ace of purely chisel-
ed features, set oi! with a soft cream~tinted com.
plexion. which matched harmoniously with her ex-

ressive blue eyes, her rosebud ii 8, and tine blonde

air, which the faint breeze blow ng in through the
gpen glass door, tossed in confusion about her shoul-
are.

A gloriously beautiful woman or girl she was, and .
so evident}? thought her male companion. a. hand-
some, dan yish fellow, who alternated his lances.
between her and the end of his fresh y-iired
Havana, while she pored over the news. intently.

“Anythin of importance, sis?" he asked. watch-
ing her win a vacant, dreamy expression. " y
returns from the regattas or the races at the park? '

“None, Clarence. was the reply. without‘raising
her eyes from the page. “There has been another
terrible drowning case at Long Branch. however.“

“Has, ehiI Well, for my part 1 should not mar-
vel to hear that all these reckless bathers were
drowned."

"But, I am not reckless Clarence. Indeed. they
called me the most expert lady bather at Cape May.
last season."

“Because the report had got abroad that you
were an helrvss~a millionairess. rather; use
you had aipretly face and the capital to back it, no
doubt," w h a perceptible shrug. .

“ You seem to envy me my good looks. Mr. -
mour. and the fortune that uncle left me," she .
looking straight at him with her big blue eyes. “ I am
sure—"

“ i envy you nothing. dear cousin " the oungman
replied, flinging away his cl ar. and bend ng toward
her. a touch of passion in is voice, “except it be
Your heart and hand. Ohl Amy. you know how tru-

y my heart is 1yours—how I love—3y, worship you;
Why, then. wil you not give me some little cum
ngement? tell me that I may have a. little hope?"

“ Because. Clarence, I do not love you. and never
can be your wife." Amy answered candidly. “I
have to d you the same many times fore, but you I
still will persist in your unwelcome declarations of
love. Once. and for all, I say I cannot—will not
marry you. so lease let that settle it. As a cousin,
I res ct on, ut no more." '

" ou ovu- anotheri" he growled. biting fiercely
at his mustache—“ I know you do, so you need

 

 

 

  
 
   
   
    
  
   
  
    
   
   
  
   
 
    
  
   
   
 
 
 
   
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
    
 
   
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
   

, initialherse

.word of love hai
:consoious that she oved the young fellow with the

Death-Paco. the Detective.

 

make no denial. That blush u n your cheek tells
more than all else. And itis t t or shabby fel-
low who once sto ped your runawa orses. I heard
of that little an r. and know that- 9 called on you,
and that you gave him encouragement to come
again and again, which he has done. And it is going
to end that you. an heiress to a million of dollars,
docking. healthy and intelligent. are going to

at: your fortunes with a. poor, uneducated pauper!“

A hot, indignant flush was burning upon Amy's
cheeks. when Seymour had finished.

“You a untruthfully, sir," she said control-
by a determined eflort. " Mr. éonroy is

orough entleman, as intelligent as yourself,
and, neither oes he dress shabbily. nor is he in the
distressed circumstances on would like me to be-
lieve. I have not a doubt at what today. he could
raise moremoney than you."

“ Mavbei” Seymour assented, with a sneer. “ But
at least.I am considered a gentleman in our best
social circle and he is a—"

“ What? to me what he is, less than a centleman,
sir!" Amy cried. springinz from her seat, her fair
face white, her eyes blazing with anger.

“ I will tell you, dear cousin, so that you may keep
flour pretty foot out of the fire. H irry Uonro is—

-weli he's a porter. and occasionally c. es in
ooall A good honest occupation, no doubt, but hard.
ly in my liking."

“ No; you would sooner Eloy
live upon your friends, t an 0 an honest stroke of
labori ’ flashed back the angry heiress. “ Bwides,
Mr. (gouroy is engaged in no such work, I am posi-

ve.

“ Obi you are positive, eh? You have questioned
him as to his occupation. probably."

“ I did. but—"

“ He didn‘t tell you? No. I shouldn‘t. if I were he.
Hal hai you disbelieve me, I see. Well, all y ')u
have to do, is to ride through Third and Fourth ave-
nues every day for aweek. and I‘ll guarantee you
will see your Adonis blacked up with coal-smut. and
working like a beaver."

Amy did not reply, for the thoughts aroused by

mour’s declaration were strange y painful.

his Harry Conroy had once upon a time stopped
her runaway horses when they were dashan through
Broadwa at a furious rate of speed and she had
thanked im and given him her card, for at a glanc ,-
she was favorably impressed with his pale, intellec-
tual face.

H_e called u on her, and she became more interest-
ed In him dur rig his short stay than she had ever be-
fore been in men, and as a result, extended him an
invitation to call again. Anal he had made several
calls which were mutually pleasant, and though no
awed between them. Amy was

ntieman loafer. and

whole of her young heart and she guessed that he
was as much in love as herself. But, he had not
now called for two weeks. which seemed an endless
time to the waitin girl.

And althou h s e believed what Seymour had
said to be a see fabrication, she naturally could
not hel thinking of it.

For s a had once asked Barry what was his occu-
pation, and he had dexterously evaded a regiy.
which, now that she recalled the fact, loo cd
strange, if not suspicious. Who or what was her
This was the uestion now!

A ring at t e door interrupted her thoughts, and

, ' Seymour went to answer the summons, motioni
. the servant back. A glow of satisfaction gleam

in his e e. as he opened the door and received a
delicate enveloped note from a messenger-boy,
who retired as soon as he had done his errand.
“ ,What is it, Clarence!" Amy asked. looldnz upas
he re-entered the drawing-room with the letter.
“Something for you. cousin. 'A boy brought it,
and he tossed the note upon her lap. “ Doubtless it

n

is from your hod-c trrier Adonis."

Ir. Seymour, 1 wish you to cease your insulting

 

 

comments upon Mr. Conroy, or else leave the room.
i will not be annoyed any longer!" Amy cried, in-

dignantiy.

“Ohl I touched a tender spot eh? Well, Iwon't
offend again. ’pon honor," and lighting a fresh
cigar. the cousin strolled out upon tie lawn, while
Am hastily tore open the letter and ran over the
con nts.

It read:

“an You, August 12, 187-.
“DEAR Miss ELwoonz—

"Your intimate friend, Amy Chyle, is lying dan-
gerously ill at No. -—- 8d avenue. and is calling for
you. Please come; we send a carriage ferrvou.

“Truly, . U. 11."

Tears were in Amy‘s eyes as she finished, and Sey-
mour. saunteriug back into the room from the lawn,
saw them.

“ Hello! what’s the matter. sis? Bad news? And,
1‘); the way, there is a carriage waiting outside.

hose is it?“

Amy explained in a few Words. and then rnn‘up‘
stairs for her wraps. returnin shortly after, attired
in a rich morning street cos nine, and lookin so
sweet and pretty, that the heart of Clarence ly-
mour-the bogus Cadet Ainsworth—smote him,
when he realized that she was about entering a
living tomb, within the walls of a private mad-
house.

“ You ma call around for me at tea time, Clar-
ence, and possible I will come home," Amy said,
as slie allowed him to put her into the waiting
coat: .

“ Very well, sis. Good-b
the door. and the cab rolls
cobble-stones.

“ So goes one obstacle from m path 1“ muttered
the arch-villain, as he returnc to the uninsxon.
“This is all mine. now—for a time, at least. and I
mean to enioy it in the best sense of the word.
while my de ant little cousin ianguishes in what is
worse than a grave or risen."

Amy was driven ra dly awa . andin the course of

to you!" and he shut
away over the jolting

half an hour the cab ct her on in front of an im s— '

lug marble- front structure. with massive spirals cps
ascending from the pave, to the heavy. silver-
trimmed doors."

With no suspicion of the diabolical schemes of
which she was the victim, she ran up the steps. and
sounded the ponderous knocker.

A ounc irl of about her own age, evidentl a.
Oreo e, juri~1nz from her features and complexxon,
answered the summons.

“Icame to see Miss Chyle.“ Amy said. upon an
inquiring glance from the servant. " Can I see

er

“ Yes. ma‘am.“ replied the girl, with a courtesy.
” Come in, please."

And Amy was ushered into a grand hall. and than
into a parlor which was so grand, that involuntarily
she gave a stare of amazement.

The marble-tiled floor shone like a mirror where
it w as not laid with plush and velvet mats; the rich-
ly-frescoed walls were inlaid with costly ntings;
brilliant chandeliers pended from the big .molded,
ceilings. and the furniture was of the rchest and
most expensive pattern.

The great windows were guarded by costly dam-
ask curtains; statues under vall stood here and
there. and agrand piano occupied one corner. Al’
together it was too grand for a residence, and Amy
gazed around her in wonder and inquiry.

“You will please be seated, ma‘am," the servant
said, “and I will call the doctor."

Amy sunk down upon a sofa and waited while the
Creole hurried awa . A few moments later, Doctor
Beidle entered, his at face wearing a smile of wel-
come.

“Good-morning, Miss Elwood." he said. suavely;
“ll!!ng to meet you, but most sorry to say that
Miss hyle is no better. Would you like to seehert"

 
  

l

1

- wwwfifi _‘ .

 

 

 

Death-Pace, the Detective. , I 7

 

.—

“ Oh es." replied Amy, quickly. springing to her
first; ‘ We are very dear friends. 'lake me to her.

The doctor bowed, and led the way into the hall
and then up the hall to a small room. where an ole.
vator was waiting for them. Into this they step ind,
and were borne rapidly upward. finally coming 0 a
at?) in the third story.

ere Doctor Heidle assist Amy out. alow laugh
breaking from his lips.

“ Pretty well done, miss," he said; “ l apprehended
more trouble,”

“ Sir?“ Amy interrogated, not understandin

“Pretty Well done. I say.” repeated the (octor.
with another laugh; “the ease with which I caged
you. Ha! ha!"

“ Caged me?" A great horror seized upon the
oung heiress at those two words. “Caged me?
Vhat do you mean i"
“ I mean that I never had less trouble in entrap-
Bing a victim. Young woman. you may as well

now the worst at once. You are safely imprisoned
in Doctor Heidle‘s private mad-house. where you are
liable to remain for life.“

Then. without waiting to note the effect of his
words. the old wretch lea ed into the car, pulled a
cord, and descended rapi ly downward.

No words can describe the horior~lhe awful sen-
sation that swept over Amy Elwood at this moment.
She uttered a low. terrified cry, and sunk unconscious
on the floor! Poor girl!

After hours of insensihility, she awoke to find her-
self in a large but neat] ~furnished room. lying u «
on a couch. with severa females bending aiixio y
over her.

“ Where am I?“ she gas ed. starting up; and.

‘ flashed across her mind he doctor's words.

great God! I am in a mad-house l“

“ Yes, young lady," replied one of the females,
“ you are indeed in a mad—house—a ao-called mad-
house, but no persons whose sanity is questioned.
ever come here. It is a livian tomb—a jail wherein
poor defenseless women are apt, by a foul wretch
who calls himself a doctor."

“ And. you—who are you all?" Amy demanded, sus-
piciously. for she saw girls around her from her own
age upward to old gray-haired women.

“ Alas. dear. we are the same as you—prisoners. I
was the last to come. and in name is Etta Allanton.
There are women here who ve spent years of their
life in this third-story prison."

This much Amy learned. and with a groan she sat
noon the cot. and ghazed hopelessly around into the
strange faces about car—faces that this horrible life
had furrowed and wrinkled deeply.

CHAPTER iV.
burn-mes. was nmcnvn.

Como alon Mulb-i-ry street for several blocks.
and reading t 0 door and window-ledge signs. you
would, at the time of our story. and will now, doubt-
less. come to a large unprepossessmg tenement of
brick. in which not less than twenty or more
families were crowded, and a large banner sign over
the main door, r . tfuli announced to the 1public
that this was “ o y‘sCi-i ." Why it was cal ed so,
or who the individual Moll was, we shall not stop
to learn, but, after sng up several flights of
stairs, and along h ways where filthy. half-nude
children were playing. we at last enter a room in the
further corner of the fifth story.

Inside we find quite a change from the unpleasant
scene we have just passed through. The apartment
is rudely but comfortably furnished. with common
in ain carpet, wooden chairs. and three couches
w ich evidently served as beds for the three nien
lounging upon them, smoking their long Turkish

i )es.
9 Ji’hcy were three as unlike. as one will often meet
in com nv—unlike in personal appearance and

 

dress. i not in dispOsition, taste and callings.
First of all, and most noticeable of all was Death-

 

Face. the Detective. It would re uire considerable
explanation to enlighten the re er as to how he
came into possession of that title, and therefore we
will let the nime suffice in itself. Death-Face is too
well known in the detective annals, for us to be strlcv
1y personal. Yet we propose to write of him, in this
romance, as though he were a character of imagina-
tion and fiction.

He was a man of flve-aiid‘twenty years. then; tall
and compactly built. with wiry. supple limbs. and
swelli muscles, and people. who knew declared
him to e the strongth quickest man of his weight
In the metropolis. whic might seem rather a boast-
ful assertion, when the men about our wharves and
markets are considered—men whose feats of strength
are often astonishing.

In face the young detective was a study, if you
were desirous of taking in all the minute points. for
he was not a man easily read; long acqn tance
was the only thin calculated to give you asafe idea
of the man. Per aps it was from his face that he
iii-rived his name; at least his countenance was
white as though death had left its stamp there.

It was not an unearthly paleness, but a natural
deathly white, reminding one more of a dead face
than of anything else. Some hinted at pain and
others at consumption, but Death-Face shoo his
head with a grim smile. meant to imply that they
were in the wrong. His eyes were black and pierc-
ing. and his hair of a like shade. and. while he were
no heard his garments were of a gray color harmon-
izing with the deathly pallor of his face.

By temrfirament he was habitually silent and im-
passive. nless he chose to reply. all questioning
was useless. for he would not make any sort of an
answer until the spirit moved himI when he was as

lib of tongue as anybody. And, as a detective,

nth-Face was an expert. and second tonono upon
the metropolitan force. .

Of his two com anions, one we have seen before—
the same Dandy k whom we saw in the Central
Park, the evening of the murder of poor Celia
Orwick. But there is less of elegance in his make-
u , now. and a more dissipated look about his eyes.

e third was a young man of one-and-twanty.
sli ht of build, and tolerably fair looking in the face.

e had spent three years as a comedian upon the
Bowery stage. acting principally a foolish character.
at which, by the way, he was u in his line, this
had earned him the sobrique of Fooly Fred. by
which he was widely known. Both he and Dandy
Dock had enlisted in the service of Death-Face over
a hyear previous, and had proven themselves apt
so aims in the profession.

It was known among a few that Deck was in the
detective service, but not generally, and in
he had been able to netrate everywhere alt.
without fear of detect on.

00 Fred was unsuspected, and by some he
lievsd o be really foolish, which admitted him into
some of the lowest haunts of the city. All three
had disguises unknown to the .other, unless they
wished to be known when there were wen anon
signals to be given, hy which one could be app
of the other‘s presence.

Death-Face was here, there. and everywhere:
there was no telling one moment where he would be
the next. and his disguises were so many and per-l
feet, that the villainous element of the great city
had green to dread the mention of his name, .

gill? thus we introduce him and his aids to the
pu c. .

Death-Face was in a communicative in V to-
day, for him. and while he puffed thoughtfully his
pipe. he would occasions“ put in a word. '

. ‘ Did you hear about hat missing rli'.‘ qua»
tioned Fool Fred. watching the clouds o smoke dis-
solve into h uish atmosphere. . .

“ No' what girl?“ demanded Dock, from hiscorner.
“ Another Ross case?" _

“ Well. something similar I reckon. Saw an ad-
vertisement in the morning 114mm; some gal wanted

  

2:1- 2: - « .»: »

 

).

 

 

 

8 Death-Pace. the Detective.

to know where her sister was. Left her home to go
to Central Park, last week, Frlda , and hasn't come
back yet. Foul play susBected.y ‘

“ a reward? ’ asked oath-Face, stretching him-
self th a yawn.

“ko- seems there were only the two sisters—wok
in sewl for a living. as near as I can learn. Poor
as share mice, and ‘ if any one will kindly tell me
of gmwhereabouts of my sister, I shall be very
man!" Dock twisted his face into a wry expres-
sion. “A ‘gratitude ‘ case, eh? Well, I am not tak-
ing on any such to-day."

‘It might be a good move, old boy. Maybe this
sister that advertiseth is handsome and courtable.“

“Han the women!" re lied Dock, in evident dis-
gust: iey’re all alike. he only female I ever cared

or gave me the ‘ shake,‘ and I haven‘t much faith

‘ in them. I’ve got something better in view.“

"What?" asked Death-Face, calmly.

,“0hl something up on Twenty-seventh street in
a brown-stone."

‘“ Faro or counterfeiting!"

.“ The latter, I suspect."

“Humphl you‘ll not get in there. This lost girl
we“ 'tveighs better to the pound, in my way of

n . '

“ We , on can tackle it, if you choose. but you’ll
find the d erenoe.“

“A news of this at counterfeiting scheme?“
asked ooly Fred rel hting his pipe.

“No!” replied eat -Face, wit a scowl. “ It is
indeed a big case to handle, with no handles to it.

‘ I've done some of my most scientific scouting, and

Plnkerton‘s men are on the watch, constantly. but
all tono avail. The game is safely quarried, and the
country is being flooded with the most cleveriy~exe
outed counterfeits of the age. Not less than five
thousand dollars' worth of the stuff was afloat on the
market yesterday. I’ll wager money against refuta-
tion, that one man out of every ten. in \Vail s reet.
cannot distinguish the new true fifties from these
‘ ms‘ the ‘ ring ’ is shoving.”

“Probably not: and this establishment must be
one of the most complete in the world, for, instead
of ayins upon one bank, the have sets of dies for
at fifty throughout the nited States, I hear,"

' V saidDandy ock.

' ,“Yes, there is where the mischief is. If they only
‘hlosso

,to‘market are decidedly puzzling.

' and d in n
' [prevent sus icion in man cases '

'terfelts here than in Philadel

med ‘ on one or two banks the public could

watch out for them, but ‘bllls of all hanggspidiuri in-
es ey
haves rocess for makingne counterfeits look old
pidated, which ions, and helps to

y .
" Do ou think the den is in this cit i"

‘ “Un oubtedly, as there is a ter nilux of coun-
ia or Boston. In my
on, many of our first ci ens are im licated in
movement, and if the ring is ever roken up,

t
’ there will be some startling discoveries.”

 

nine, at a guess. And
Dock

MAM“... .- ... _'..-.

“ You’d be so

rprlsed to find a Ma or and a Con-
man in it " said Fred, with a laugh.

grass
. I  “No 1“.- of that: but there are some gambling

politicians in New York, who need watch
than their bolder brother rogues."

At this juncture the conversation of the three de-
tectives was interrupted by a knock at the door of

as more

/ their room.

A dainty, hesitating sort of a knock it was—femi-
so it proved, when Dandy
went to answer the summons. A little we-
manish figure, neatly attired. and deeply vailed,
stood in the hallwa , outside, lookin so odd, that
Dockwhistled under isbreath. He d not remem-
ber of ever having seen her before.
"Is the detective, Death-Face in!" was asked in
a low sweet vows, and. then t e woman save a

* start as she looked u into the face of Dock. She rec-

him, even t ough he could not her, on ac-
count of the veil. ,
“ lies, ma'am. the boss is in; will you step inside?"

.«mvua . M. 1-»in .. ,

 

 

and in his suave manner, Dock handed her a seat
near the door. “ Death-Face, this lady wishes to see
you—eh? madam?"

“Yes, sir,” was the faint reply.

“ To see me, did you say?" yawned the detective,
rising to his feet and bowin courteously. “Ah!
yes; what can I do for you, in y?“

The woman hesitated a moment, evidently con-
fused at finding herself alone with so many men,
but at last she threw back her vail to give her free»
dom of speech. Dock uttered an exclamation of sur~
prise and s rung forward. ' ‘

“ Miss Nel y Orwick !" he cried, extending his hand;
“is it you?“

“ Yes it is I, Mr. Raymond," replied the sweet-
faced little woman, shakl hands, cordially. “ I
expect our surprise is mutu , for I did not expect to
find you here.‘

She was a little thing, this Nell, Orwick, with a
model, petite form, a resh swee face, and bill“
eyes, and hair of a chestnut shade—a woman whom
it is deucediy hard to see and converse with without
admiring" a gay. fascinating little butterfly, seem-
ingly ma e to bring sunshine and enchantment into
the world. At least, her ap earance created favm'
in the mind of one of the etectives, and that one
was Fool Fred.

“ And am as delighted to see you as I am sur«
rised, Miss Nelly!" Dock replied. “How did yon
eave the piquant Celia?"

Dock Raymond wished he had not asked, when, the
great moment, Nelly burst into ache, and wept bli-
er y.

“Oh! Dock!" she cried, piteousiy, “Celia is yum!
I have not seen her for nearly a week!"

“ Gone!" Dock's face whitened a little, as he
heard—“ gone, did you say?"

“ Oh! yes, gone and I .do not know where she is.
Oh! my poor darling sister! she is dead, and I can-
not see her."

“ Celia gone! By heaven this is news to me, Nelly.
WllKien'pid she go—where—how? Explain. for God's
as e

Dock was tly agitated.

“ Oh! Doc . she started for the park one da last
week—Friday afternoon. and she has not come ack.
Oh! my poor, sweet sister! Oh! what shall I do?“

“Calm yourself, Miss Orwick." said Death-Face,
apfiroachmg the weepin girl, respectfully, “ and We
wi look into the case. red. this must be what you
mentioned of seeing in the IleraJIi f"

“ Oh! yes, I advertied in the Herald—I have done
everything, ‘ moaned Neil , sobbin the harder. “I
have spent every cent we ad save up for our rent,
and cannot find her.”

“ I can throw a little light upon the matter." said
Dock, slowlv. “i met Celia in the park. on Friday
evening at dusk. She was sitting in an arbor. wait-
ing for some one. I uestioned her, and found out
that she had an appo ntment to meet the fellow who
was at your house, the last evening I called. Then I
came away."

“Oh! the poor, misguided girl. She went to meet
St. Cloud, then? I would not let him Visit her any
more. and she promised me not to see him."

“Who is this St. Cloud?" demanded Death-Face,
who, in short-hand cipher, had been jotting down
the conversation upon a sheet of foolscap.

“ He is a young man of dark com lexion, hair and
mustache; somewhat dressy, and e son of a Wall
street broker." .

“Ah! is that so? Do you think he would have
married her, she being beneath him in station ?"

"No! he promised to marry her, and I told him
that unless he kept his promise, he must stay away.
Then he at angrv, and came no more."

" Ahll is by little we are getting light upon the
case." Death-Face said eagerly. “Di your sister
love this St. Cloud i”

“ Nol she was fascinated h his fine dress, and ele-
gant ways—his flattery, an costly resents. God

knows, I wish she had stuck to you, ll r. Raymondl”,

7“... .. _

 

Death-Paco. the Detective. 9

 

Dock did not reply. There was a pained look up-
on his manly face; evidently unpleasant memories
were crowd u on him.

“Then. if s e ated him, why did she go to meet
hing“ continued Death-Face, jotting down word for
wo .

“ You shouldn‘t. at present, press too close, boss,"
into sed Fred Funk.

“ ank you, be . for remindin .and I hope you
will excuse me, iss Orwick. e detectives are
great to uestion. I think I understand the case.“

"And sthere any hope, sir? Ohi do not tell me
nol You are a great man, and I am sure you will
not refuse to— “

“ No, miss, we will not refuse to aid (you because
you are poor,” Death-Face replied. kin ly. “I will

ve the case my immediate attention, and my aids

ere shall work in your behalf."

“Oh, thank on. sir, thank youi God will reward
you for your dness, if I cannot!"

“Never mind 'ahout that, lady, for I am always
read to strike in defense of the weak and innocent.
Asi e case lies, there are eat chances that this
St. Cloud has made wa w th her—either had her
im risoned or murder , in case she threatened to
m e him marry her, which, as I understand it. was
evidently her intention. I shall dispatch Fred to the

rk to earn what he can. and Dock to the Morgue

examine the latest arrivals of unclaimed dead. I
shall not leave one stone unturned, believe me. that
will promise the slightest chances of success to our
undertaking."

Gratefully Nelly thanked them all, and then, after
leaving her address, took her leave, Fooiy Fred
ofi'ering his escort as far as Twenty-seventh street.
which was accepted, much to his delight for in
secret he was greatl enamored of pretty little Nelly
and her sweet, winn ng ways.

CHAPTER V.
sBERRY asynon’s aonsssn. .

Tax Brooklyn ferry-boat was crowded that night
—probably owing to the fact that the New York
boards offered extra theatrical attraction—when,
after the ciankin of chains, and the splash of the
agitated water a ut the piled sidings the boat
swung out into the stream, and plowed her way
through the waves like some monster of life.

' Upon a seat sat a youth of between seventeen and
eighteen years, evidentl of the “lower ten," if you
were to judge by his ha iliments.

'He was a handsome youn fellow. with an erect
yet graceful form, such as t e ladies admire. and a
clear. 0 n, honest face, handsome because of its
re ulari y of features. and fresh, healthful glow.
H s hair was i ht, and curled in a great mass close
to his head; s mouth rather large, yet firm and
resolute: his eyes brown, yet pasessed of a strange
m etic influence. dress was coarse and
shmy, and the but set jauntil upon one side of
his head. and the patent-leather {mots upon his feet
were more dilapidated than was becoming for public

dis is .

(Ros); beside the youth sat a m‘an of some thirty-
two or five years, with a dark, un repossessing face,
made the more so by a jet-blac . heavy mustache,
and eyes and hair of the same fierce shade. He was
well dressed, sported a diamond pin and a heavy
seal ring, and a massive gold chain, the glitter of
which in the gasli ht mere than once attracted the
gaze of the youth y his side.

The man carried a large bundle across his knees,
done up with grecision in heavy cream-wove wrap-

ing Elmer. an upon this he kept a close watch, as
B he ad apprehensions for its safety.

His eyes when not riveted upon the bundle

 

' rested alternately upon the faces around him, as if

expecting or in search of some one, who did not put
in an ap arance. His movements, nervous and un-
eas . in looted that the fellow was greatly agitated.

This mi ht be owing to the presence of a little be-

whiskere individual in along duster, who occupied

‘ /

 

the opposite seat, in a facin position. He watched
his opposite with a gaze p arcing encu h tobean-
noyinlg, and more than once the man wit the -
andis mustache uttered a fierce curse under
breath, but loud enough for the ears of Sherry
Raynor, the outh at his left.

‘ What's t e jig, boss?" was Sherry‘s cool query,
as he saw the man iidget in his seat.

Sherry was not a bashful bog; years of mu h-and-
tumble existence in the sinful metropolis hard-
ened him in manners if not in heart.

“Got a corn thet pinches. or a bile? Biles are a
plague sometimes. Make a teller uneasy as a lobster
at low tide." '

His words called forth another muttered curse
from the man; then a question in return.

“Who are you young man?" was asked in a low,
intense tone, an the man azed eagerly into sher-
ry's genial face. “Do you ive around here! Are
you much acquainted i“

Sherry gutted hard at his cigar, and in a reflective
manner, efore replying.

“ Don‘t hev any purtickler lodgin‘-house, asIkuow
of,“ he replied at last, with a grlmaoe. “Roost
‘round most ennywheres night overtakes me. Pretty
well acquainted ’bout town, yes. Kin point out

romenentgmlertitions ter ye fer a quarter a head:

now ccnsi erable about the s ums, too."

“Ah! then maybe you can tell me who that man
in the long duster is, over across the way.“

“ Him? Wal, now, I reckon you‘ve sn ed your
unkle over a bar, sure. Don‘t identerfy h 3 1mm, of
I‘ve ever seen it. Might figger in for an alderman,
or a detective. tho‘l"

“A detective l“ the man started. and muttered
another curse. And the man on the opposite bench
was starin straight at him.

“That pi i is as sassy with his optics as a Bowery
beer-slin er,"commented Sherry gazing reflective
at the c and of smoke that cured above hish .
"He‘s got his attention pasted snug on you, boss:
you tumble to it. Watch out for him, or he‘ll tickle

yer hee

“Yes, curse him. he has been trailin me about
fora week!" replied the man. “I‘ll on how it
is. boy, and ma am from

T to L belyou oil? 1181933th lay
oron , ‘au a. am e grea - er
in all the Provinces. Two months ago I canned
out Toronto and Ottawa, and then cleared out. But
they sent a gang after me to regain what thiiy had
lost. I‘ve evaded them without trouble, and that
cuss across the way struck my scent, and .1 cannot
shake him. Boy, do you know of a place I can

in for a few days? I 1 pay well to lose yonder d

in the duster."

“ Reckon there‘s places where no one can find oi“ ‘ ‘

replied She . reflectively,"‘ef o bed spondu icks
ter foot ther ill. Jest shove a in under yer un—
kle‘s nose. and see how quick he'll flimth inter
yonder gentleman‘s face. Bet he ken't d ye ‘foro
next Centennial, you hear mel“

“ Five dollars? ' the man stated in . “Five
dollars, you sa 7 . young man. you will put
me through so e and t row that bound of! the track,
I‘ll give on a thousand dollars—ay, and double the
thousan , {of l’ mufi  out 83f the greasncef of that
man—mus sa . ave spen every arthing
I’m worth,’for ifyhe were to arrest mo and take me
back into the Queen‘s dominions, they‘d shoot me
inside of twenty-four hours."

“ And you‘ll give me two thousand dollars if I
throw yonder crab off scent d‘ye r" d
Sherry. near yelling out in his excitement.

“Yes, I‘ll ve {on every dent of it, and u
of my bones . w on we‘re out of immediate o
vation I‘ll surrender this bundle to you, in which you
will tilndhthat whammy“! I “y

n t 0 man ap e paroe incan .

“ All ht. Mafia?) yer clam. w are there's du-
dads fort comin , —:iust put yer w on that, you
hear me! What 3 yourcognomen " I

"My name is~well, call me Faro l’hil, Thatwlll K

 

10 Death-Pace, the Detective.

- answer as well as any other, I guess. Hal the old
devil is one from his seat, across yonder." _
“80 e hasl“ assented Sherry with a wmk.

“Smells a mice, an‘ has one to the front of the

boat to set his trap. But ‘11 show him a trick worth

two of that. Cum along here ter this hind end. The

machine ar‘ going to turn around before running

into Fulton street. Don't yer see. ther ‘orses ‘d hev

ter back off if she ran in front emit”:

“ So they would," replied Faro Phil, as he followed

- his oung guide to what was then the rear portion of
J ' the at. ‘ But where did we make the turn? [did
not notice it.“
' “ Around that inan~o'-wnr back there. See, she are
; _ swingin‘ around again. Now, look out! Ther minnit
g. l, she touches pier, jump an‘ foller yer unkie."

i The bell run , the passengers crowded forward,
 and at last. wit a splashing of the. water and the
i" 1 shouts of men, the boat rubh ad against the pier.
in . Sheri- was off in a moment, and striding swiftly
5“? , out of the ferry-house into Fulton street, closely fol-
lowed by his dark—faced companion.

“Got any loose cash ’bout yer?" he asked, as they
halted a moment outside the ferry-house. “ Better
take 'a cab fer a while. Quick. or yer shadder ’il spy

out ‘

Theylboth sprung into a waiting cab, and Sherry
gave t e directions in a low tone.

/ Then the door was slammed shut and the carriage
whirled away, but not in time for the two occu nuts
to miss seein a man rush out from the crow and

around film. it was the gentleman iii the linen
duster. who had aniioyei Faro Phil on the boat.

“ He’s stuck worse'n a clam in red inudi“ laughed
Sherry. enjoyin the sport. while his companion bit
fierce at his rigandish mustache. l‘hey had a

“Drat the luck. he‘s bounced that oliceman; yes
and b’y jingo he’s tumbled 'im to t. He’s cabbed
,hissel , an’ new look out fer a race.“

Faro Phil swore roundly when he saw that his old

enemy had indeed jumped into a cab, which was
I starting 03 in pursuit of them.

“So , how d ye like it?" Sherry laughed. “ Hain‘t
sfea .are you? Simon Peter! we're golp’ to scoot
thet rooster. just like caster-oil oiffni an icicle, you
beer yer unklel Hello there, driver?"

"What‘s wanted?“ came back the response.

“D’ 9 see that kerridge snuckin‘ up ahind ye,
back t ere?"

“Yes leech."-

“ We of you wanter finger-fondle an X. put in;
outside 0’ thet chap‘s vision in less time than a cat
can slide of! a house-roof when hrickbats are plenty.
D‘ye tumbl to it i"

‘ Yo rul ," came back the reply; and then
the cab w rle along at an increased rate of speed.
And the ursuing vehicle also came on rapidly.
Evidently t was to be a close race.

“ A few pounds of steam more. boss !“ She
yelled. “ Softly on ther t‘rottle and let her rip!"

i‘Ay, ayl" responded Cabby. .

r {Lind rage us out, first opportunity."
ours, ruly.

Then the cab plunged on at what seemed a terrible
rate of speedto the two men. but at no less velocity
came the rsulng cab.

W . , , “Curse he pursuing hound!" growled Faro Phil;
5‘: : watching the space over which they went through
V ' the lam lit streets. “I believe he‘ll overtake us,

after al "
, “ Bet another .thousan‘ on‘t," demanded Sherry.
. x . with agrln. “You may count me euchered if that
,. e rooster goats us ef ye‘ll only give the case in-

‘ ' Fr in rl

. wig

 

 
   
   
 

, g een such as him before. Reckon I

jib superfine. Double inderwiduai—one

sideout,tother side in under di iiise. His sign-
board spells. Death—Face. tective."

I.»"'Emdevili" Faro Phil ercely yelled. growing

“unwitth foradark-compiexioned man. “it

lsnot c f". ‘ ’
“Dunno; n‘t most allus tell, as ther old man

 

view of the scene from the little back window”.

 

Tell sed, afore he shot the a pie. Possible it might
be that same Death-Face. hy? w‘at d‘ye know 0‘
him f Thort you‘s a Canadian?"

*‘l've read of him,” was all the retort Faro Phil
vouchsal’ed.

“ Yas," accepted Sherry. obliquely closing one
eye. “I suppose so."

But the expression in his tone proved that he did
n't suppose anything of the kind. And Faro Phil
was not so dumb as not to understand it. but he
gave no proof of his knowledge.

On came the pursuinfi cab, at as great a speed as
was permissmie throng important streets of the
metro olis. and on went the cab in which the two
had fa en pas e.

” Why don‘t t e accursed idiot turn of! Fulton
street?“ raved the gambler. as he saw that the fol-
lowing cab was in reality gaining.

His words were answered by the turning of the
cab into Broadway, where the crowd was dense and
black. The rumbling of the great ‘busses and
cracking of whips, and shouts of contending drivers,
made strange noises on the night.

“ Now, boss!“ cried Sherry, keeping an eye out
“ put about fifteen dollars down here on the seat for
our back fare, and then prepare yerself fer a grand
fling. I’m fer debouchin‘ inter sum 0‘ this 'ere
crowd an’ eludin’ our old perennial.

Faro Phil took a large roll of bills from the pocket
of his white vest and aid a twenty out of it upon
the seat.

By this time the jam usual at Broadway and Ful-
ton was encountered, and the cab was forced to
slacken speed to scarcely a walk.

“ Come, now‘s our harvest i“ cried Sherry and the
next moment he had the cab door open, an was out
and making his way in among the immense crowd
that thronged tLe pave. He hurried along swiftly,
for a few moments, without looking back. but when
he did. it was to discover that Faro Phil was not been
hind him. He was about to wonder at this, when the
report of a pistol was heard, and the crowd involun-
tarily fiaused and surged hack to learn the cause.

To S err it was at once apparent. '

Faro Ph had been nabbed and had attempted re
sistance. And he, Sherry, had ssession of the
mysterious bundle. He had grab d it in his leap
from the cab.

What was in it? Had Faro Phil told the truth
about its containing two thousand? A wild tumult
was rising in Sherry’s heart as he thought of the
enormity of the sum to him.

“Ali’l'm a baked clam of it ain‘t a-goinz tobe
mine!" he muttered. “ Don‘t reckon I come dishon-
estly by it. Honest 's the best policy. they say. but
23‘ don’t say nothin’ bout two thousand dollar poli-

es ’

Half an hour later, he sought a lodging house in a
side street. and engaged a room, in which he looked
himself. Then, with a. rapidly-beating heart he
quickly undid the bundle.

And the gambler, Faro Phil, had not lied to him!

Inside were rolls of bank notes, none of whose de—
nominations were less than fifty dollars-bills on all
the important banks of the country—bills that were
new and crisp, and bills that were old and well-worn
—all in one great bulk. It was more thaitthe de-
lighted boy had dared to hope. and swinging his hat
sings he gave vent to his feelings in a wild cry of
ecs y.

 

CHAPTER VI.
cons EASY, no EASY.

Snsmw Runes was not dishonest. or unscrupu-
lous. His parents had died when he was ten years
of age, leaving him and a twin sister. alone upon
the charities of a cold, pitiless world.

The were penniless and raggled, and starvation
stores them in the face, until a ind-hearted baker
took Sherry into his employ, where he had remained
until two years previous to our story when the old
man died. and the boy was thrown out of work.

 
   
  

Wyn»; A

i
l
i

 

 

Since then he had roamed about the city, catch- '

inga job here and there. Of his twin-sister, Leo
he had heard only once in the time since they had

dried. when hehad gone into the service of the

aker. Then she was working ina picture gallery
on Broadway. lint he had never found time to go
and see her while at the baker‘s, and after his
liberty, when he sou ht her. she had gone away
from the gallery, ant no one knew of her where-
abouts. But he found a picture of her—a. tall,
promisin girl of seventeen. with surpassing pretti-
ness of eature and form—a fair maiden approach-
in the threshold of a glorious womanhood.

c purchased the picture, and put it in his pocket;
then, when no other occugation prevented, he pass-
ed away his hours in wan ering about the city, hops
ing by some chance to stumble upon Leo.

And Sherry had another ob set in these rambles.
He was literally trying to kil two birds with one
stone. for he had a little love romance of his own.
locked up in his heart. It was now full 11 year since
he had caught a glance of the eyes that had fascin-

ated him one summer's night upon the Fulton ferry i
and the roguish little face and petite form that had so t

entirel captivated him. And the owner of this
little em and rognish face had sligped a pa r in
his hand with the one word written t ereon— ay!

Fay! All! how many nights Sherry Ra‘ynor went
to slee with that name on his li ; and 10W many
times e thought of Leo, and t e temptations to
which she was exposed in this great wicked metro-
politan city.

And nowi

Before him lay in a pile, where his fingers had ar-
ranged it, a fortune such as he had never dreamed
of possessing-a fortune that would lift him from
the streets, and place him forever above want.

“I‘ll be scooped up fer oysters, if ‘tain't mine,
now!“ he mutt red. handling over the notes as care-
fullyas if the were tissue. “ Thet cha come b
them dishones . so I orter keep ’em from im, whic
would be honest, now, wouldn‘t it? I‘ve a notion ter
begin bizness at once, and see the sights.“

‘ I would, too, She , if I were you." replied a
voice. and glancing astily around. the startled
vouth beheld asecond individual of somewhere near

is own age, looking composedl over his shoulder.

“ Hello! ‘ Sherry was upon h 5 feet in a moment.
his fists clinched for combat. “ How in Simon
Peter did Lou 'tin?"

“ Was in be ore you came," laughed the other,
ggdod-natnredly. “Didn’t on spy me lying on the

, ondert I rggt upvan dressed while you were
undo ng your p . here‘d ye make the raise?"

Sherry did not answer the question. He was 
ing straight'at the youth. a light of recognition
beaming in his eye—a wild. unaccountable throb~
blng in the region of his heart.

The youth was a little shorter of stature than him-
self. and more plump and rounded of form. with a
round face, the was strikingly handsome in its deli-
cate outlines, and rosy-and-cream complexion. and
e es that were hazel and wondrousl‘y attractive in
t elr glances; while the hair. of a lghtish shade,
was c osely cut, in the prevailing style. The face
was not graced with beard. and if it ever had been,
it had been recently shaven. The dress of the oath
was of faultless elegance, of the costliest ma rial,
while in his immacu ate shirt-front arkled a thou-
sand-rsyed diamond cluster pin. an a ring of the
same tprecious material glittered upon the little tin-
gor 0 his left hand. which was as small and white,
nearly. as a woman‘s.

Patent-leathers upon his feet, a silk hat upon his
head, and a gold-beaded cane in hand, completed
the outtlt of the young gentleman of leisure at
whom Sherry Raynor azed in a sort of fascinat on.

“ You are—are Faye brother!" he declared. at
last decisively. “Ain‘t you?"

k " Vt‘int do you know about Fay. I should like to
now?

" burned little—not half as much as I should like

!
y

 

Death-Pace. the Detective. 11

, .

to.“ Shcrry responded. earnestly. “ I saw her on

the Fulton ferry. nigh a year ago."

“ Oh! you are the oung fellow she gave the
paper to, eh? Just ii 13 one of her harum—scarum
pranks. And I suppose your innocent young heart
was won. there and than?“

“ Dunno ef it‘s any 0‘ your business!“ She an-
swered. with spirit. lie didn't particularly miro
the insinuating manner of the fa low.

“ Oh! you needn‘t be so sassy. Maybe I can hcl
along our case a bit if you don‘t got your hang
up. 1‘ L y cognomen is Charley Evans. Yours is Ray-
nor ’

“ Reckon it is."
Evans very closely.
yourn hang out?‘

“Here in the city. A nobby ’al is she, too. You
must see her sometime, and ma '0 her acquaintance.
But. for the present, other business. I see you‘re
flush of money. Expect it isn‘t none of my business
where you go it?"

“Not a mite of your business," replied Sherry.
indelzlpendently, lighting a cigar and pulling away,
coo y.

He had received a fair education while in the
baker‘s employ, and could converse as correctly as
any one. when to chose. or could master the slang of
the street as fast as any of the boys.

“If it were an of your business. that would be
another side to t e case, you see. But. it ain‘t."

“ Of course not," Evans assented. “But I believe
‘I heard you remark that you pro osed going out to-
night, to enjoy yourself. I am 0 that turn of mind
also, and I argue we had better go together. I‘ll
venture to say you don’t know the ropes while I do,
and if we cannot have a boss time, I 11 vote for
Tweed. Will you come?“

" Reckon so, ef thar‘s music in the air. But what
is yer rogramme? I must blossom out in new tags
store can be received inter society."

" And must drop the glitter dialect, too. for recol-
lect you‘re no longer a street Arab, but a gentleman
of leisure with all that money.“

Sherry counted out a thousand dollars, and con-
cealed it about his person, and then did the remain-
ger u in a bundle. and signified his readiness for

e are.

' What are you going to do with that bundle?" .
demanded Evans, showing his disgust at walking
with a person who carried parcels.

Reckon I’m goin‘ to tote t alon ,“ replied Sherry.
inde endentl . “ Ef you don‘t l e to walk wi‘ yer
unk e. why t ere‘s two directions ter Baxter street."

Evans laughed good-naturally, and they made
their way toward Broadway, but it was noticeable
that a good many passers- y glanced amusedly at
the two youths, at once taking in the contrast of
their dress. '

Straight into one of the first tailoring establish-
ments of Broadway. Sherry went. followed by his
com 'on. It was an immense place. with great
stac s of cloths. grand mirrors, gorgeous chande-
liers, and hurt ing clerks. and a place no one need
venture in for ow rices.

Evans stood bac near the door, and let Sherry
break his own path. And he was not afraid tostem
the tide. either. He sauntered leisurely along, stop-
ping now and then to examine a piece of goods. or
stare into the great mirrors. which were much he-
Lond an thing he had ever seen. At first the sus-

re cler s regarded him With disdain. and exchango
ed winks and smiles at his expense. And he was not
slow to realize that he was going tobe n lected.
for none of the clerks paid him the least at ntion.
Shabby customers are rarely well treated in Broad-
wagyI palaces.

erry well knew this, but determined was he not
to he snubbed. _

Presently he saw a. tall elderly personage wearin
gold-rimmed spectacles. issue from the can er’s -
lice. and make his way toward the front of the store,
and he waylsid him at once. .

Sherry was studying Mr. Charley
“ Where do thct purty sister 0‘

  

12 ‘ «

Death-Pace. the Detective.

 

' “Be ou the boss of this shebangi“ Sherry de-
' mended}: confronting him and blockading his pas-
.) -

sag .
‘fI am the proprietor, yes, sir." replied the gentle-
, man, gazing down at the boy, an expression of fun
. in his eyes. “ Such being the case, what can I do for
you. my young friend?"

Sherry.V stared.

“You‘re a fast-class hoes!" he declared, after a
moment—" what they call a gentleman. I twig your
iib. superfine. An‘ now, may I ask ye, w‘at d’ye

cogI hese upernumeries 'round beer fer?"
1 . “ y clerks? Why, to wait upon customers, of
3 - course."
-‘ > > “ Generally pick out sich as they keer ter wait up
i on. an‘ let the others slide off, I reckon." ~
‘2 "Certainly not. Have you not been waited upon?
.1 )1 H Do ou wish to purchase?"
a,» v ‘ “ houldn‘t wonder of I might invest a hundred in
; tog. of I can get ennybody to wait enter my royal
n .

"~‘ 1 _ “Of course. I'll see to this. Hewley, this way;“

i}. ' ' and Mr. J— motioned to his foreman.

' . “ Why has not this young gentleman been waited

3' . ~ upon sir?“ I

, " “ e!” and the foreman gave Sherry a withering

4p. .3 - glance;,“why, he‘s from the streets, sir: he has no

1i. mono . ’

 ‘-,  ' ."D e want ter waltz out back an' tell me that?“

,l ‘ , Sherry asked. bristling up. “ Bet a baked clam. wi‘

u . free lunch added in, gratuitous. and a five-cent pony,
‘ that I can muster more currency than you, or a

dozen like you.“

The foreman flushed hotly. .

“See here no more of this!" exclaimed Mr. J—,
aharpl . “ f-Iawley, never let it be said that you, or
any 0 those under you, neglected a customer, be-
cause his attire did not favorably correspond with

our own, or I shall dispense with your services.
_ his is in store, and the rich and poor shall be

treated wl h the same due courtesy. Please remem-
ber that."

“ You’re a solid man, you are, Mr. Whatever-your-
vname-is!" cried Sherry, in delight. “1 war poor
once myself, and I’m not above 'em yet—tumble ter
that! Now, {on supernuxnery. of yer ready. show
me the best lock 0 stuff in yer hull establishment,
you hear yer unklel“

Mr. J—— made his way out into the street. a broad
mile [)1an about his mouth.

" That y has a sharp tongue, and is nobody‘s
tool," he mused. “That little incident has been a
lesson. I wonder who he is?“

And a great man wondered who Reckless Sherry
was before he got t rough with his fortune. A young
Goal Oil Johnny some dubbed him.

Hawley showed him several patterns of goods:
but sherry shook his head grimly.

“You can‘t throw chat! in my eyes Mickey!" he
said. coolly. “Take me fer a skim-milk idiot, don‘t
' yet Reckon I can’t locate shoddy from ther jenny-
wine fabric. I ’s t. Guess I do. Just tumble out
sumthin’supe e, or you’re bound ter git the grand
ill-{91%. fer I ain’t foolin‘i" _

e foreman began to reahze that he couldn‘t
trifle with “the boy from the streets,“ and threw
down one of the costliest pieces of goods in the

ease.

"That’s ther ijce. You are talkin‘ now,“ announced
Sherry. “I twi that cloth tera dot. Bow much
fern. ir o‘ bric elloons, a vest, and a. coat. all in
t style. Speak upl"
, “One hundred and two ve dollars. and warranted
to suit. Take your measure?"

“Oh! Well yes, ye can (it my figger. and mind
mm a good t."
 measure was taken, and playing half the price
ggv‘lil, Sherry rejoined Evans w c was waiting near

nor.
11 hour later he had taken a suit of rmms in the
avenue. having first rigged himself out in a
4 the suit of ready-mode clothing he had purchased.

o

 

 

 

 

 

in which he looked even gayer than Fey‘s brother.
His clothing was fine, his whit» vest and shirt bei
done up to perfection; in the jewelry line, he hgfi
purchased a diamond pin and two costly rings: his
silk hat. evening gloves, and gold-headed cane com-
pleted his nohby appearance.

“ Now, where 9" he demanded, when he was settled
in his new quarters. “ Goin‘ ler interdooce me ter
that sister 0 yourn, ain‘t ye?"

“Not yet,“ replied Evans, with a laugh. “We‘ll
have a supper at Delmonico’s first, and then drop
in at some thcat -r, after which we will take a trip
up on Twenty—seventh street. You know all about
taro and roulette, I su pose?"

“Not I! I ain’t muc on high-toned games."

“That is bad. But I will play for you. You must
redeem yourself."

“ How d'ye mean?“

“You must sweep some faro table of enough to
Eake back what you have spent to-uight," explained

vans.

They left their rooms and took a cab to Delmoni-
co’s. Here they had supper. after which Evans led
the way to the Fifth avenue theater, where the Two
Oi )hans was having a tremendous run.

y luck they secured a couple of reserved seats.
from which position in the parquette circle, they
could overlook the house.

Sherry was instantly interested in the play, and
did not pay much altention to the audience, which
on the contrary. Evans watched narrowly, by aid of
one of a pair of gold-mounted opera- glasses which
his com anion had procured at a fashionable store
on Broac way.

And at last he was evidently rewarded, for he
smiled andbowed to acouple of ladies who occupied
the opgosnte proscenium box. after which he
clutche Sherry by the arm.

“ Look! old boy; there they are in the box across
yonderl They belong in Gaylord's gambling palace
on Twenty-seventh street. Come alongl"

CHAPTER VII.
Lira m A GAMBLING PALACE.

Evans rose as if about to leave the theater.

“ Where you goin’?" demanded Sherry. “ I ain’t
takin’ in any sich kind 0’ pettycoatry.“

“They are all right, only they're gamblers. Come
along. Don't you see the audience is staring? Come
along, I say."

Sherry followed, rather reluctantly. He was op-
posed to associating with disre utnble people, and
did not know what kind of 0. en Evans mightbe
conniving to entrap him into. But he had a strong
will when he chose to exert it, and he was resolved
to balk. when any unwarranted temptations might
be set forth.

He noticed that the two females had also quitted
their box, and was not therefore much surprised
when they all met in the lobby outside.

“Ladies. Emperor. Prince William, of Austria!“
introduced Evans. " Prince William, the Baroness
Lulu and Princess Alec.“

Sherry acknowledged the introduction with a
grace Evans had not deemed him capable of, while
the ladies courtesied low.

“ How are things upon the royal thoroughfare.
baroness?" Evans asked of the elder of the two,
both of whom were youn and beautiful, and dress-
ed richly. " Is there a c nce for two at the table
of knights. this eve?"

“Yes, my lord. There is always room in Queen
Mab's palace for those who are in the circle, ’ was
the reply' whereupon Evans oflered her an arm,
and led t 9 way. while Sherry followed with the
Princess Alec. This was new work for him. He had
never been much in the presence of the oppositesex,
and to have the charming princess hanging u n his
Sign and chatting incessantly. was a new 1- tion

m_ »

The first cab was hailed. and soon they were

dropped upon Twenty-seventh street, beforea grand

 

 

Death-Pace. the Detective. 18

 

brown-stone, which stood in a yard, that was a
very paradise of flowers and rustic nrbors and mu-
sically—drippin fountains. Sherry was amazed, and
had he been a one he would have boiled over with
outlandish expressions of admiration, which he now
was forced to hold in check.

The baroness led the way, entering liy aid of
alatch—ke . Inside. the hall was luxurious and elab-
orate, in t e greatest degree. and the glimpse Sherry
caught of the parlors, as they were ushered up the
staircase, was enchanting, so graiidly were they fur-
nished and lighted.

They were occupied, too, iiy scores of brilliantly-
dressed women and uien, who looked strangely
weird under the bluish-tinted gaslight.

But a greater surprise was in store. At the head
of the stairs, they entered a gorgeous saloon parlor,
very wide, and running the entire length of the build-
ing. And such a scene Sherry had never witnessed,
nor dreamt of. The room was furnished throughout
in crimson, the furniture consistin of chairs. luxu-
rious sofas, card, wine and faro ta lest; the carpets
the sweeping lace and damask curtains, the unvaile
statuary and immense mirrors and chandeliers. were
all the costliest that a lawsh expenditure of money
could procure.

And around the faro tables, of which there were
three. were gathered fifyiy dressed men and women
—men whom Sherry new to hold prominence in
business circles; 'oung men and old, gay men and
grave; while of t e richly-clad females, none were
evidently older than thirty-five, ranging from that
down to twenty, And the champagne-scented at-
mosphere, and weird music of clinkiug glasses,
added a strange, irresistible charm to the fascinat-
ing hour.

“ How do you like it Prince?“ asked Evans, look-
ing back at Sherry. who had paused with his com-
panion. and was breathlessly drinking in the pano-
rama of beauty. “ Isn’t it immense?" .

“You tumble to it!” assented Sher . with a sigh,
half regretfiil that the spell had _ aen broken.
“ You're a boss. you are, Charley. Nicer’n a church
at Christmas time ain‘t it?" '

Elvans came bac , and drew him one side, mysteri-
ous .

“ {on must choose better language. if you want to
succeed in here," he said, kindly, but advisingly.
“ It won't take.”

“ All right; try my best; bet a baked clam l’li
blurt out sunithin' improper afore the night's over,
tho‘. Hello! see that old gold-eyed spectacled roos-
ter, over onder at the table, wi a feminine ban n‘
over his 3 oulder. I twig his ib. superfine, you ti
Got my new brichelloons o’ h in."

“ ‘Sh! hush that slang talk!" cautioned Evans.
L‘It won‘t do for us to recognize any one we know in

ere.

" "l‘won’t hey? Well, what's the lay—out?"

“ You are to keep in Alee‘s company, this evening.
The girl is struck after you, and you must keep her
in our races. 'lry taro, and let her play for you.
unfiyou 1 come out ahead."

on the Princess Alee led the way and seated her-
self at a table where the heaviest stakes were play-
ing. Sherry standing by. as most of the gameaters
did, who allowed the iiinihle<fingered sirens to choose
for their luck. ~

“ How much will you risk?" asked Alec, after they
had watched the game a few moments. “ Quick,
now!" in a low tone; " fifty dollars, and you sweep
the board. I think."

Sherry threw down a fifty. and A198 exchanged it
with the banker for one of those round ivories. that
so often lose and win fortunes, in our great cities.

She gave it to Sherry, with a smile.

“ Now. sir. our turn next. Cover your diamond
queen. That s it,” as Sherry obeyed. " Now. then.
watch and wait.‘

The game went round. and—the bank won on the
swee of the

board.
, “ tter luck, next time, gentlemen," assured

 

Queen Mab, the banker, with a smile. as she raked
in the ivorics. “ I wouldn't get discouraged," as two
of the gentlemen withdrew.

_ “ Don‘t you get discouraged," whispered Alec. v-
in Sherry a strange glance, that thrilled h m.
“ ‘m going to regain your confidence in me, before
long. See. there are six against the bank, and
there is going to be heavy Playing. You notice that
man across there, with tie black mustache? ‘He
has the reatest luck of any of our patrons. His
name is ed St. Cloud. The gentleman next to
lilin is Clarence Seymour. He is also excefitionally
lucky. But, you are not going to lose, wh e I play
or on."

“ hank you.” r§plied Sherr ; “your kindness I
shall not forget. ou‘re a hos—" But he thou ht
of Evans‘s warning, in time to avoid a blun er.
" How many checks do we want?"

“Let me see." said Alee, counting the board;
" Madam has five hundred on King Heart. You pur-
chase five one hundreds, and cap the queen."

“Isn‘t this rather dangerous—this playin with
hearts?" asked Sherry, with a laugh, as e re-
ceived his checks.

“ Well. sonietinies— es,“ Alec replied, with a soft
flush tiii ing her chee . '

Accor iiigly, Sherr deposited his cheeks upon the
queen of hearts—nu won the game. coming oi? with
over a thousand dollars worth of checks.

“ Good 1" Alee said, delight expressed in her tone.
asshe stacked up the ivories. ‘ You won; I amin
duty bound to order the champagne for you "

And slipping a fift check into the hand of a uni-
formed co ored we 1 ‘r. she called the champagne
for the table. And when it came, it proved to be of
the best. Both Alee and Sherry drank lightly. but
this was not the case with the others. and then
Queen Mab, called another game.

At Alee‘s request Sherry invested heavily. and
pla ed under her directions, thou h the beauth
gir was careful not to let Madam b hear her ten-
dered advice to the new visitor. .

The girls are in duty bound to respect the bank -
at ueen Mab‘s. and to play into its treasury; .
butl t was apparent that Alee was oi! the rules to-
m it.

nyhow, at the end of two hours, Sherry was
tlfio Bossessor of two thousand dollars' worth of
c ec .

Alee was the first to notice this fact, so interested
had Sherry been in the game. _ .

_ “ You are one thousand and eight hundred dollars
ahead of investment. sir,“ she said, ling sli htly as
she caught the ominous glitter in ueen Ma ‘3 eye.
" Will you sto i" -

“ Yes, I ha best,” replied Sherry. who had also
caught madam's severe glance.

“ Will you honor my checks, your queenliness!“
and be counted out his pile of ivoi-ies.

Queen Mab raked th em in spitefully, and counted
out the money, which Sher pocketed with a bow.

“Come.“whis red Alee, rawinghls armthrou h
hers. “ We had st watch the other games a whi
sour winnings have been the means of angering the

iieen.

“Yes; and what is the penalty?“ asked Sherry.
“s‘hi‘? wniimliiiyoiu'ni i m h

‘ o; s ew sm wrte in sc argepapers;
and I need no longerpvisit this es ablishment." . ~

“ Why is this?”

“Because Idid not lplay into the bank. I co-ld
have bet so you won d have lost double what you .
have won."

“I suppose so; you have the hang of cards.\ Why
didn't you?"

“ Becauskwell—well. because I didn‘t see fit.
lViloniltnthat do as an answer!" with a faint little
aug . ‘

“Yes, I suppose so. What will you do if you are
discharged?‘ 7

“I‘ll marry the first wealthy gentleman who'oflorl '
me his heart and hand." . .

 

 

 

 

 

' 14 Death-Pace. the Detective.

 

“ Phew! that's nice. But in event that individual
is minus?" -

“ I‘ll apply for a position in the ballet."

“ Hagen won’t! your jib wasn‘t cut fer the bally l"
declare Sherry. “ I‘ll see to you. you tumble to

V i that! I’ve got chips, and as longasthe last, you

ain't a-goip‘ ter associate yerself wi’ no y; you
I, E u, e .

Alee did not reply, but she clung closer to Sherry‘s
arm, as if feeling assurance in h s protection. bite
wasa beautiful creature, rising seventeen years, with
a slender. sylph-like form, a fair, pure com lexion,
hazel eyes and chestnut hair. and a mouth 0 tempt-
ing sweetness. IIer dress was costly and elegant,
and the jewels she were were by no means inferior.
Yet she was so different from the other 'rls of
gasen Mab's establishment, Sherry could bu notice

contrast.
' As thegv strolled along through the great palace
parlor, berry wondered if the contrast between
this place and his former haunts could all be

real.

Presently they paused at a table, where Evans and
the baroness were engaged. The former's watch,
rings and diamond pin were just going into the
banker's hands for more checks.

“Hellol what’s the row? Broke, boss?" demanded
Sherry, ste ing up]. '

“Yes; if lose t is time, I’m whipped," replied
Evans a h gard ex resslon in his eyes.

"Not whi e yer un le’s about i” cried Sherry, mak-
in a dive into his 'ket and fetching out a roll of

“Here’s a t ousand. Bet it ug'in’ the bank
(l): qili‘een of hearts, an’ I'll stand ye, you tumble to
at.

“’Shi you’re kind, but lease avoid that gutter
language," remonstrated vans, in a low tone.

And then he accepted the loan, and put it upon
the card as per directiOns, and amid much excite-
ment. he won. After that he was more successful
and finally he left the table a couple of hundred

ahead.

He found Sherry and Alee in the magnificent par-
,lors downstairs, partaking of wine and refresh-
men as scores were doing.

The ttle female gambler was chatting lgay] , and
it was plain to see that Sherry was great y n erest-
ed in her. And before he had left the gambling-
house, just the darkest hour before dawn, she had

romised to ride with him in the park, the follow-

afternoon.
» Sher went from the scene of excitement to the

, eiefiimt -furnished suit of rooms he had engaged

at t e F fth Avenue, parting with Evans at the hotel
entrance.

Once in his rooms he took a bat and then sought
the slumber he ha so much use ed. He awoke
about noon. feeling considerably refreshed and af-
ter ordering a tempting repast, proceeded to dis-
patch it, after which he sauntered out of the hotel
11 n the crowded streets.

he day was clear, but not nearly so warm as usu-
al. and countless pleasure rigs were driving along
the avenue toward the Central Park.

" Now the first thing is a caboose ter ride my fair
inamorlty in!" he muttered. “ I must have some
thinfigay. too, and where‘lli go to t it? Bahl I'll
stan" where I am and buy the first i that takes my
e 9

And accordingly he stood upon the curb and
watched the rigs that sped gayly by through the
soft sunli ht. I

Present v, he saw a handsome phaeton, drawn by
two spanking handsome bays, come dashing down
the avenue, with many eyes followin them.

1 Straight out into the street strode t e youth. and
at his beckon the driver drew rein, surorise beamin
in his countenance. while his lady companion sta

at Sherry, haughtily.

“ D'ye‘ own this turnout'i‘ Sherry demanded. tak-
ing a glance over the horses, harness, and phaeton,
in a moment. A .

 

 

“ Certainly I own it!" replied the man, surlily.
“ What if i do, or do not, sir?"
“I‘il give you twelve hundred dollars fer it, spot
,.

“ What! are you crazy, sir?"

“ Not a bit, my clam. Here‘s the rocks; so take
’em and pile out, or else drive on.“

The man seized the money, and sprung out with
alacrity.

"Como, Celeste," he said, ofiering to assist his
com anion to alight.

“ h! surely not here, in the middle of the street,
Pentield?" exclaimed she in righteous horror, as
she beheld a crowd collecting.

But the husband was obstinate, and one of New
York's fashion ueens quitted her conveyance in
the middle of th avenue, while one of New
York's fast oung men took possession of it, and
drove triump ntly oil.

CHAPTER Vill.
DEATH-FACE ALERT.

DEATH-FACE, the detective, had given Nelly 0r-
wick promise that he would take her case in charge
and he was ever a man of his word. He commence
LY dispatching Fooly Fred to the park, to find what

ews he might of the missln Colin, and Dandy Dock
to the Morgue to go over t 8 late arrivals of un-
claimed dead, while he in person went to the estab-
lishment of Cuthbert St. Cloud, broker, in Wall
street, and demanded to see the pro rietor, an-
nouncing his business as of greatest mportahce.
And so it was, considering the case.

The broker, a gray-haired, sharp-e ed little specu-
lator of fifty years, with more of a isplay of dress
than became so old a man, received him In his back
rece tion oflicc, with a cool salutation.

“ r. Cu hbert St. Cloud I believe?" Death-Paco
said. decli ing the proflered chair.

“Yes. sir' that is my name. What can I do for
mu tic-day? ’ and the man rubbed his hands, patron-

Di!

 

“ Yt’su can give me a little information; I believe
that is all to-(lay. You have a son, have you not—
a young gentleman with dark eyes, hair, mustache,
and complexion f“

“ 0h! certainly; that is Edward. Splendid young
fellow when once you thoroughly know him. Your
business. I take it, relates to him?"

“It does-is particularly with him. Can you di-
rect me to him "

“Ah! 1 am sorry to disappoint you. but I cannot.
Ido not even know of his present whereabouts."

“Indeedl and i wanted to see him so badly. You
even do not know if he isin the city, then?"

“ Not positively. Might have run down to Cape
May—or maybe in the city."

“ Is he married i” .

“ Ha ha! no—not he! Loves his freedom and in-
depen once too well to think of tying a. woman to
his coat-tails.“

“ Aheml yes. Well, if I can obtain no information
of you, I must be oing," Death-Face said, preparing
to depart. “You now of none of his haunts where
a person would be likely to find him?”

)1.“ gardly: it is uncertain just where to look for

m.

“ Very well. I can perhaps find him. Goo 1-day.
815i" and he took his departure from the broker‘s
o co.

Going back to the rooms of the tenement in Mui-
berry street, he found both Dock and Fred awaiting
his drive].

“ Nothin at the Morgue." Dock announced, with
a gloomy s ake of the head.

“ Ahl then there is some hope that she has not
gee!) lkilled. Might have jumped into the river,

oug .

“ And more than probable that is the solution of
the roblem."

“ at we won‘t accept of it yet. What is your re-
port, Fred?"

r.‘-‘

‘1')!"
i ‘4!

If.“

Death-Pace, the Detective. ” 15

“ Found the place, but nothing more, captain.
Guess it's a ton h ‘un."

" llut we‘ve andled worse ones, by ten-fold.
Dock, where is Queen Man's?"

"The lace I spoke of visiting on Twenty-seventh
street. Vth"

“You must get into it and use your eyes. You
may have to gamble, but let it be in close roximity
to a young fellow with dark complexion, ark eyes
hair and mustache. Watch him narrowly, and tin
out where he goes to when he leaves."

“ All right. Who is the chap?"

“ Some of our game—St. Cloud by name."

“ Ah, curse himl I’ll indeed watch him, then! I
shall have to go in disguise, for fear of recognition."

" And how shall I amuse myself, boss?" asked
Fred, with a yawn. “ I long for something to relieve
the. monotony.”

“‘Well, you may keep an eye on both rivers for
acouple. of days, and see what is fished u in the
shape of bodies; though my expectations 0 finding
this missing girl are not in that direction."

"God grant that she is alivel" said Dock Ray-
mond, quitting the room.

That afternoon: a bent. gray-haired and whiskered
little old man sauntered into oneof the many variety
beer gardens of which New York can boast and
seatinghhimself ata table called for cheese and eer,
which 6 proceeded very leisurel to dispatch while
he watched the performance. e was dressed in
outlandish style, and everything about his make-up
from his sto my boots to his old rag ed wool hat an
unkempt loc , proclaimed him to a veteran from
the rural districts.

He watched the performance with evident huge
delight, a broad grin distorting his hairy counte-
nance, and occasionally, at some ludicrous remark
of the comedians, or extra caper of the brazen-faced
females who paraded across the stage, he would
burst into a yell of delight. his sides shaking with
hearty laughter.

The afternoon was exceedineg hot, and the cool
gardens were crowded hy the heated and thirsty.

And many were the curious glances leveled at the
old “coot " from the country, as he sat and enjoyed
both the performance and his beer. Ignorance is
said to be bliss, and the old man might have been
deemed in a blissful state, if such was really the
case. Certain it was that he appeared ignorant
enough.

Two st lishlydressed young gentlemen, evidently
street a vertisers of the latest fashions, came in
and ltook possession of the bench just ahead of the
rura ite.

Much to his disgust, too, for he reached over and
tap .d one of them on the shoulder rather heavily.

‘fihllo?’ cried one, the darker of the twain, look-
ing around with a fierce oath “ What is the matter

' With you. old man? Keep your dirty paws where

the£beiongl"

" h?" and he from the rural districts put one
hand to the place where an ear might have been
supposed to ave sprouted but was now invisible,
owing to the great locks of wiry hair: "what d‘ye
far, youngster? I‘m leetle hard 0' beerin’ in my
9 t ear

"I as kee your paws to home or I’ll show you!“
growle the andv.

“ Nice show? Oh! yes, mighty nice. Like to her
my bo Peter see it.“

‘Wl'i’o said anything about the show, you old
ignoramus? I say keep your dirty hooks off from
me, or l‘ll treat you to a knock-down."

“Treat me. did you say? All kerect'boyee. Ye
’pcer ter seem knder natteral—like my family:
resemble my Peter considerable. Yes, et is kinder
dry. Waiter, fetch three bottles 0' that stuff you
ca lchampsign. 1‘“ stand the shot, boys."

And niral fetched one hand out of his capacious
pantaloon pocket. in which was grasped with tri-
umph a huge roll of bills—genuine greenbacks every
one of them. _

 

“ Hal by Jove, Seymour look at the old slnner‘s
pile. will you!“ whispered Ned sc. Cloud, cautiously,
to his companion. -

" We must lay for him."

. “Exactly. it will be easy enough to bleed the old
idiot!“ replied Seymour, confidently. “He‘ll go
back to the country with his wisdom-teeth cut."

The champagne was brought, and glasses filled:
then the ruralite laid down a fifty-dollar note in pay
ment receivin ' back four tons and a five.

“Well. old toss, what‘s your name?" said St.
(,‘loud, as he and Seymour changed their positions so
that they faced their intended victim. ‘ We gener-
ally like to know whom wedrink with."

“Eh? what's my name!“ queried the old man
restoring his mone to his huge pocket. "Well, i
reckon it’sa ood un, ef I do say it. I‘m Tobias—
Silas Tobias rum Cornfield Center, Vermont. You‘ll
find lot's o‘ Tobiases in Cornfield. There’s Jim To-
bias, Sam Tobias. Jacob Tobias, Zackariaher Ta lor
Tobias, Godfrey Tobias, Zackariah Taylor Tab '3
son Josiah, Peter Hank, Zebulom, Aaron. John.
Saul, Job. Obed. enr (‘lay John Quincy Adams
and Andrew Johnson obias, ides—"

“Hold on, for Heaven’s sakel“ interrupted 8!.
Cloud; “ that will do. “Our names are res tlvely
Fletcher and Brandon. Drink, old man— era's to
your success !"

And the glasses were em tied, refilled and emp-
tied repeatedly, until the ias bottle’s contents were
exhausted.

And much to the surprise of the two sharpen).
who were themselves not a little affected blythe
drink. old Uncle Silas Tobias was as sober and ively
as a cricket.

“See herel“ Seymour said. in a cautious tone,
" we‘ve at to let up on this drinkin , or we're ench-
ered. T as old cuss ‘ll stand a barre , for these coun-
try bucks have. cast-iron stomachs. We‘ll have to
try another tack." ‘ '

‘Well a-all right. Fletcher. You 'tend to it. and
I‘ll watc . I’m deucedly slee y."

“But that'll never do. We e up. Say, old man.
d’ye ever play cards?“

‘Waal, gen, I sometimes take a hand." replied
Tobias, in ifferently. “ My boy Peter is great at old
sledge Itellyou/"

“Ali right; come along to the club-rooms, and
we‘ll have a social game. Come along, Fletcher."

And the two shrugs and their supposed "flat"
left the garden, an sauntered leisurely toward
Broadwa . The club~room was reached in the
courseo a an our, u ngw c me y~

hlf h drl blhti bothSe
mour and St. Cloud had leisure to dissipate the ef-
fects of their champagne.

The club-room was upon the fourth-floor front of
a lar e building, the first, second. and third floors or
whic were unoccupied; the building itself being the
individual property of St. Cloud.

The cause of its vacancy was because of the um I A

reasonable high rents demanded

The club-room was fitted up
tables. desks. chairs, sofas, an
the furniture.

A few fashionably-attired fellows were lounging
about, a few smokm , others reading, and ot era
glaying cards; but all eft soon after the entrance of

t. Cloud. Seymour and Uncle Tobias.

'in handsome style,
settees comprising

The three seated themselves at a. table. and began ,

to lav. The first game was won by St. Cloud.
tId Tobias winked one eye as the cards were dealt

u .

“ 1‘" bet five hundred dollars 'in' the same. put
up by gou two, thet I win,“ he so. d. slowly andspeo-
u ativ y.

“Agreed! Seymour, you will find a roll of bills in
yonder desk." St. Cloud said, offering a cigar to the
man from Vermont, while he was lighting one him-
self. “ What! don’t you smoke?" '

“ Not when playin‘ keerds, you tor," replied the .
on man, with a sage shake of a head. ‘Bmoh
alius sits up my nose an‘ makes me sneeze", <

0

 

p...

 

 

  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
  
  
 
   
    

 

1: mm... r~....r~ 11.3, .uy.‘ ~

-m._..

I he said.

forced to
, 3t

 

 

 

m.» . .. .
._s.-r——“‘—". H—.» .——w —_-.,

 

.16 y " Death-Pace. the Detective

 

Seymour bro ht a large roll of fresh, crisp green-
backa and laidut‘liem upon the table.
‘ " There on are. old stag—two thousand dollars!“
th a . “ Can you cover it?"

Uncle Silas took up the bills, hetted them. and then
smelt of them.
as“ Bran span new, ain‘t they?" w his slow com-
me . “Reckon ye got 'em right mm the mint,
didn't ye?"

“Yes. right from the mint!" replied St. Cloud,
with slaxuigh. "Worth double the amount of such
greasy 0 paper you r .

“Yes, I Ignaz so. aka the old man fer a fool.
don't yet 'pose he's an ignorant old buck thet
ken’t tell a butterfly from a asshopper. I reckon!"

St. Cloud and Seymour exc aged glances. What
did it mean? .

It was a question not answerable Just then. for the
old man sla ped down the Opening card of the game.
rather spi fully. And the game was pla ed
through, without the exchange of a word, Uncle o~
,blas winning

With a meaning smile to St. Cloud, Sefimour
counted out five hundred dollars, and paid t e we;

ger.
“ Now, will you try a thousand?" he asked, watch-
ing the ruraiite narrowly.
Oh. no !" Tobias said, leaving the amount he had
won upon the table, and pocketing his former stake-
vmone . “ Five hundred at a slice ain’t ter besneeaed
at, 1‘1» tellin ye tho‘ I've seen the time I could ’a'
bet five thousan , easier."
And the game was played, and again Seymour was
y the wager into the Vermonter‘shands.
. Cl swore roundly.
'f See here. you old cuss, do you know I believe
you’re no ciguntryuniiannat all? I believe you’re a
se

“J’oohl pooh! what put that notion into your

1 ahead?" was the evidentlyrsurprised reply. " I reck-
‘ Onyou’re green yourse
r

, of you can t tell a good

I honest one like yourself, for in-
a sneer. “Old man, I‘ll bet you a
Wand dollars I win this game. be you take

“No. thankee; I'm content wi' five hundred. By
the way, Mr. Fletcher don't for a moment calkylate
old Silas Tobias is aleard 0‘ ye. ner sich a darned
fooll nuther. Reckon I‘ve plowed enui! zroun’ ter
no w‘ich way sub-soil turns easiest. Yes, siree.
The Tobiases. o' Cornfield Center. can show jest as
good blood in their gills as any 0' the city aristoc-

, I‘m tellin’ yel Thar was old Governor Tobias,
mus, an‘ Tobias, the watch inventor. and Tobi—~"

“0h, hang your bragging! Five hundred‘s the
game. Plank. old blower."

‘ “ See here, boyee. jest call less names, please."

St. Cloud wled back some inaudible response,

down his first card. The game was

ad quickly, the Vermonter winning. as usual.
game after game resulted in his favor, until he

had won about three thousand dollars from the two

. n " shar rs.
he arose wit a quiet la b, and placing the
whole stack of- bilis upon a h on one side of the

he touched a match to them and watched
room, I

up.
A cry of astonishment esca ed the two sha rs.
. “ For God’s sake. man, are you crazy!" denial-33m

Seymour, I . from his seat, with an oath.
MOI. crazy, without doub ," was the
and then. as the Vermonter turned

NP
toward them, they made a discovery.

The gray matted mass of hair was {fine—lay upon
the floor where it had fallen—and a w ite-faoed, res—
olnte man stood before them, a cocked revolver in
-'eitberhaud,and a gleam in hispr eyes that

meant see.
the detect! by all that is living!"

I.

I Death—
' ‘ Laid fit. Olmoowerine avasder theaim of there-
’oim. while Seymour blanched, pole with fear.

 

“ Yes, my gay larks,“ replied the detective, grim-
ly. “ it is DenthAFace. I have caught you, and—"

But, even before he could complete the sentence,
a portion of the floor was jerked from under his feet
and he was thrown forward and precipitated head
long downward!

CHAPTER iii.
A new case.

Down —down went the detective. through what
seemed an endless space, and ere he stopped, insen-
sibility had robbed him of some of the terrors of the
fall. It was long hours ere he awoke. and then it
was to find himself lying bruised and sore, upon
a great net in mid-air, which had so checked his
downward flight as to save him from death.

With a start he roused himself, sat up and gazed
about him.

An u ward glance explained the mystery of his
fall. or above in the floor of the third story
through which he had fallen, was a large square
hole, while still further above in the fourth floor was
just visible the mechanical works of the trap. He
was suspended on the net between the second and
third floors; below him was a second square hole
through which he could see to the first floor. There
evidently had been an elevator there, some day. but
it had been removed, and the treacherous dead-fall
substituted in its lace.

The distance to e second flight was nearly twenty
feet. and after resting a 'few moments, Death-Face
swung off and made the drop. He came near oing
through the elevator-way, but fortune favor him
in managing to avoid this new disaster.

He struck with great force, and a roar of noisy
echoes ran riot through the great chambers. But
on listening, he could hear no sound of his enemies‘
alpproach, which naturally produced the conclusion
t at they had given him u as done for.

Two doors opened out o the chamber, but both he
found to be lockfll. so that escape was revented in
that direction. Vith a muttered m ediction. he
turned to the huge windows looking out upon the
roadway, which were covered with a thick coat of
cobwebs and dust.

But these, also, he found to be fastened with
screws, and having no sharp instrument to remove
them with, he was obliged to abandon any attempt
at escape in that direction, unless he broke one of
the great plate glasses, which be resolved not to do
while there was any other chance.

“I wonder what’s down u n the first floor?“ he
muttered, eering down 1. rough the opening,
through wh ch he had come so near falling.

“Deserted and dusty, like all untenanted places,
I see. But I'm going down there, somehow. It a
pears to me there must be some show of esca e n
there, it anywhere. But how shall I get down? ‘

This was now the question.

There were no ropes nor anything to manufacture
them out of. and the distance was more than twenty
feet to the floor below. Which made dropping a
dangerous attempt, in the least sense of the word.
Yet Death-Face resolved to make the attempt, hit or

miss.

And swinging downward as soon as the resolution
was formed, he let go. Down—down—and then he
struck upon his feet with great violence. Fortu-
nately no bones were hurt, but he was so ja
that it took several moments to recollect where he

was.

Then he proceeded to inspect the apartment and
the modes of escape therefrom. The back oors
and windows were securely nailed and locked; but
great was his surprise on approaching the front door
to find the key on the inside of the door, and the
door unlocked.

“Ha! this is lucky, by Judas. The t has
doubtless been here, and gone away withou his key
which lets me out handsomely."

And the detective stepped forth into the street, a
free man!

s.»

 

41.

o

Death-Pace. the Detective. .1? A

 

Death-Face. or Harry Conroy. as he really was,
although there were but few in the great metropolis
acquainted with this fact. was the man who had
once rescued Amy Elwood‘s runaway horses. and
he had, as we have related, paid several visits to the
beaut -heiress.

He ad now not seen her for some time, and no
sooner had he gained the street. than he formed the
resolution to call uion her. But. first of all he
went to his room an changed his attire. and when.
an hour later, he rung the bell at the Elwood inan-
sion he was truly a fine-looking fellow, the only
detriment to his personal appearance being the
peculiar whiteness oi.’ his face. A mulatto girl
answered the summons, and made ahumble cour-
tesyas she beheld the noted detective, for she, of
the whole household. knew of Conro ’s profession.

“Good-day to you, Molly}! 15 Miss wood in? It
so, will you please give or my card?“ and he ex-
tended a. delicately-perfumed card. upon which his
name was written n a. master-hand.

“ Ohi de Lor‘, siri" gasped the servant. the whites
other eyes growing unnaturally wide “(is missus
ain't at home, sir. Done gone oi! wi out sayin‘ a
word to anybody. Didn‘t take a. stitch of clothes.
neither. an" dis chile is awful worried sir. Mas’r
Seymour say she gone to Cape Mav.bnt f don‘t h‘lebo
it sir. ‘deed I don’tl Missns wouldn't ’a’ done gone
off widout takin’ me, sir. I’se her maid. I is!"

Conroy whistled his surprise.

“ Why, this is strange. The way I remember it.
Missfillwood was not to go to Cape May until next
wee .

“ ‘Decd she wasn‘t, sir; ’deed she wasn’t. An’, ohl
do L01" only knows what has become of her."

“ Hum hi I must look into this. Itdoes not look
just right that‘sa fact. Didn't take her wardrobe,

you say?

“ No a dud, sir, but what was on her back; ’deed
she didn't. sir.”

“Then I don’t believe she went to Cap May, at all.
Is this Seymour in?"

“ No, sir.”

“ He s Miss Elwood's cousin, I believe?"

“ Yes, sir.“ '

“Were they close friends Y"

“ Oh, de Lor’, no. Missus Amy jist despised him.
sir. ‘deed she did."

“Ahi this has an appetizing look. In case Miss
Elwood was (lead, this cousin would come in for the
property, eh?" ’

“ 'spect so, sir; but—but—y—you—y—you—‘
And Mo ly be an to cry. in alarm.

“ Hush, sir i" Conroy commanded. authoritative-
ly. “Your mistress is all sate, I’ll warrant. I’ll go
and hunt 'her up. Mind. you don't say a word of
this to an body. I‘ll call in the course of a few days,
and see i she has not returned."

88. ing which. Harry Conroy quitted the mansion.
’ “ 1y don't like this a bit.” he muttered. as he saun-
tered along Fifth avenue, reflecting u n what he
had heard. “I am well satisfied that my is not at
On May. Let me see; she had engaged accommo-
dagi’gns at the Stockton, she told me. I will tele«
graph and find out it she is there. Seymour—Sey-
mour. Let me think; ahi that was the name of the
villain who was in com ny with St. Cloud, under
another name. Probab v the two Seymours are
identical. in which case Miss Elwood’s cousin is a
rascal, and not above suspicion for any crime."

fitm‘tn‘i “1 wt???” Tit“ Mimi. Di“ii"'§°t3ci?f“
a spec nq ngo ecero e on
Eote . at C‘ape May. it Miss Amy Elwood. of New
York, was registered on their books. And are long
the reply came back:

“No such part here."

Which settled hat rt of it in Conro ’s mind.

And thus matters s at the end 0 three days.
Nothing satisfactory had been learned concerning
the fates of either Celia Orwick or Amy Elwood.

Neither Fooly Fred nor Dandy Dock had learned
anything or importance, for the latter had not suc-

 

 

ceeded in gaining admission to noon Mab's, while
in his sphere among the Waters reetites. Fred had
little op rtunity to gather news appertaining to
either 0 the cases. '

.“ They‘re two stickers!" said Death-Face. as with
his two aids, he sat in his room in the Mulberry
street tenement. the evening of the third (is in
question. “There is no chance of success wit out
arresting this St. Cloud and Seymour. which I don't
care to do just at. Ere long I hope to n b them
on another tac which will send them to lug-Sing
or Blackwell‘s Island. one or the other.“

"‘Passing ‘queer blossoms.‘ eh?" queried Dock,
With a laugh. “ They ain’t the only guilty ones, I‘m
tellin‘ you."

“ No, on are right but this paper cannot long be
handle With impunlt . Why, 1 saw a leading city

liticmn, who aspires to a high office in the near
.uturel, make a deposit at the Second National today
in which there were a. couple of new fives, on the
National Bank of Albany. I didn‘t say anythi .
and the receiving-teller. one of the shar t expelga
in the business, ran over it. and ut t on s ack.
without noticing the good from t e bad—just
cause an influential citizen made the deposit.
What is the country coming to, when even our best
lmen ?handlo the stuff without knowing when they

0 it ”

“ I’ve got on the trail of a gay young lark who is
‘shovinfi the ueer‘ in the oldest style," said
Dock. c ewing ard at the end of his cigar. “but
who is, I believe. doing so, ignorant of his crime.
I’m going to investigate as soon as the case ripens."

“ Yes, keep youreyes peeled on all cases of shov-
ing,‘ because if we win we‘ve got to work sharp, tor
Pinkerton’s men are laying to with a will. It‘s going
to be hip and tuck between us.”

For some time they conversed u on different topics
relating to their profession; bu finally they were
interrupted b a knock upon the door.

Fooly Fre opened the door. and admitted an
elderly gentleman of rather prepossessing a
ance—a man stout of figure with a round. ovial.
heardless face pleasant lack e es and long hair
that fell in little wavw down his c .
dressed“ sported a gold-headed cane and exigent
vest-chain, and altogether was somewhat d lag
of make-up. fora man over whom fifty years b
passed, no matter it but lightly.

“ Ahem! excuse my intrusion. gentlemen, but is ,

not this the head quarters of a detective whose polo

lid countenance has earned for him the name of ‘

Death-Face?” '

“ This is the place, sir. Be seated. sir. Boss, this
gentleman wishes to see you, I believe."

“ Well, sir, I
bringin
critical y.

“What is there I can do tor-you in my line of
business?"

“ i have a little job I wish some exgert individual
to undertake," was the repl . “ an was recom-
mended to you as being a g hand. These young
gentlemen are all right, I dare say?” with a business.-
like glance at Fred and Dock.

his chair closer, and scanning his visi

“ Certainly; make your case known without‘hedé ‘

tation, sir.“ .
“Well, then, firstly, my name is Samuel Raynor.
of Virginia City, Nevada. I am what they call "a
‘bonanza. man’ out of the States—always on the
search for something new. I went West twent
'ears

time have never heard from the East except an
occasional newspaper. When I left I borrowed
twenty thousand dollars capital from my brother,
who had just inherited it. promising to return attho
expiration of twenty years and pay it back to him
or his heirs, with twent years' sim is interest at
ten per cent. And I am

knows where h heirs are-l don‘t.

He was well '

am at your service," said Conroy, .‘ '
tor '

o and engaged in gold-mining, and have t  ’ '
owed t for a business ever since. and durln that-

.V‘

 

stfortha [mtg '_
to find that mg brother is dead—arid tll’e fining,  a 5

  

 

.p. 2......1....,..r..n. A

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

'18 Death-Pace, the Detective.

 

“Ah! well,I must say that you are an honest
man. without question," Death-Face exclaimed.
while both Dock and Fred expressed their astonish—
ment by longer pulls at their cigars. " Not one man
out of eve hundred, nowadays, would honor an
obli ation o twenty years‘ standing.”

“ ell, erhaps not; but I wish to depart from
this life w th 11. clear conscience, which I couldn't do
were I to retain the mite of the orphan."

“ Your resolve is very praiseworthv. at any rate.
isnfigose you wish to find these heirs?"

“ ther I want you to find them. Here are your
figures. James Raynor lived in Mulberry street,
carpenter by trade; widower; died about nine or
ten years ago—or maybe eight years ago. uncertain
about that; left two heirs—boy and rl, twins. aged
ten years. Boy entered service 0 baker; don‘t
know what became of girl; boy's em lover died a
couple of years a 0, an baker s fami y don‘t know
what became of h m. Boy '5; name. Sherry Raynor;

rl's. Leo. There on have it. sir, in a nutshell.

on you make anyt ng out of it?"

“Doubtless. sir. the boy can probably be found,
and will know of his sister."

“ And you will undertake the case?”

“ If you like, yes. I have every confidence that we
can oust him out of his hiding. He is here in the
city, Ithink; for I think I have heard the name.
though I cannot recall just the place nor when."

“Very well; do your best and when you find a
clew let me know. You will find meat the Fifth
Avenue."

Then Mr. Samuel Raynor. of Virginia City, took

a his departure. leaving the detectives with another
‘ ,case in hand.

 

CHAPTER X.
. AMY’B nesoxsu—snnsay's mousse.

, Wswili Ior'a short space of time look in upon
those unfortunate females of Dr. Heidle’s asylum for
the insane, though probably his doors were never
darkened by those who were in the least deranged.
I-Iis patients were all deranged ina mild way, he
was wont to say to his intima e acquaintances. with
one of his evil little laughs. .o -

But of the fifteen women. young and old. who oc-
cu ed that prison in the third story of the asvlum,
no one was there in the least unsound in mind.

Amy Elwood was for the first two or three days
very sick, doubtless owing to the violence of her

efaud excitement on finding herself du ed and
't prisoner of Clarence Seymour. But t e kind
care of her sisters in durance had nursed her back
to health and strength, and now it was a month
since her imprisonment. August. with its dry,
scorching heat. had gone. and September, with its
milder breath and occasional breezes, was at hand.
a little more cheering to the prisoners. And although
their confinement was terrible and chafing to the

,.l'pirit, none of them could complain of harsh or

cruel treatment, or lack of food.
There was an excellent opportunity offered here

I for the study of character. Some of the inmates

were sullen and uncommunicative. while others
were as gay and light-hearted as though they had
possession of their freedomnnd liberty. And among

his latter class was a girl whom Amy took an in-
stant fancy to—a girl of seventeen or eighteen years,

‘ .very retty in face and figure, and of great vivacity

"of s t.

“ name is—well, say Annie Bo ce. dear!" she
said one day, a preaching Amy as s e stood at the
stained-ghee ndows and tried to peer out onto
the avenue, while tears coursed down her cheeks.
“Don't cry. sweet sister {or it only leaves you the
worse oil. I have been here two years. and never

 :Iheda tear. because I trust in God. and knowlshall
some day be‘reieased from this terrible bondage.“

r.“,0hi Icould not live in this terrible prison that
long. I know." Amv sobbed piteously. “I should

'die—I know I should."

’ “ Not if you keep up spirits. Only one died here

 

since I came here. and she was an old woman—Old
Aunty Hodge we called her. Her son-in-law shut
heir up here to get possession of her house. the vil-
a n."

“9b! how cruel. What were you put in here

“ Ohi I found out a secret. by accident, which
threatened to ruin the prosplects of a couple of men,
and they took care that I s ouldn‘t betray them by
incarcerating me here. But by the faith of Gtxi, if
I ever do get free. the wor d shall be shown one
gigantic fraud. at least."

“ Have you made my attempts to escape. Annie?"

“ No. for they woul be useless. You see the win-
dows are securely barred, and a guard is constantl
stationed outside. in the entrance. yonder. It won d
be a vain attempt. and we should only receive
harsher treatment."

“ Maybe you are right. But I do not intend to re-
main here without making a trial for our liberty!"
said Amy, d ‘ing her tears, and the shone a reso-
lute light in er eyes. “ I am i to open com-
munication with the outer worl at least."

“ But you will not dare to break a window, dear.
We have tried it several times, but the guard cursed
so terribly that we had to desist.“

“ He‘ll not hear me," replied Amy, quietl . “ Get
me a piece of paper and pencil, first, and ‘11 get a
message in readiness, so I can drop it out as soon as
I make an opening."

The prison was furnished with afew books. and
Annie aving her own ncii. Amy wrote on slips of
the fly leaf from one o the books. the following:

“Help! help! Fifteen girls are confined in the
upper story of this building. which is a so-called
private mad-house. Notify the authorities, or as-
sist us to escape, for the love of God, I pray you.

“ Am! ELwoon."

“There! that will procure our libert . I am cer-
tain, if it only chances to fall into the right bands."
said Amy. as she finished her task. “Now for the
window. ‘

She approached one of the immense stained-glass
windows. and examined it closely, eagerly watched
by her anxious companions. The glass was heavier
than she had at first sup and a fear assailed
her that her efforts were estined to be futile.

But she could try. at least.

Drawing a solitaire diamond rln from her little
finger. she pressed the gem to the g ass, and drew a
large circle. The diamond cut a deep track through
the smooth surface.

“ Good! Now give me a stick, or something I
can use noiselessly i“ Amy cried. excitedly. and the
other females began to share her enthusiasm. But
at this juncture the door opened, and the guard
cametramping into the room, with a muttered curse.

He was a rest brawny murderous-looking fellow
with biea e es and hloated face, and tangled
black hair an And to the alarm of the
trembling women. he carried a heavy black-snake
whip in is hand, which be cracked with meaning
significance. _

" Hulioai" he cried. glaring at the frightened
prisoners with apparent fury. “ I heerd a ’splcious
noise in beer. Maybe some 0‘ ye miser'ble squaws‘d
be leased to tell me what it was?"

ere was no answer, for none of the women were
inclined to betray their last hope of escape, even
had they possessed the power of speech which they
did not. in their terror. And their silence seemed to
more enrage their Jailer.

“Oomei curse you. speak upl" he ordered. draw~
ing nearer, a wolfish gleam in his eyes. “ I‘m goin‘
ter know what made that noise, or by—"

He did not finish the sentence, but raisin. his ugly
instrument of torture, brought it down wit stinging
force around a lady's shoulders. With a pained cry
the poor creature staggered back. and would have
talk?“ had not Annie Bo ce caught her in her arms.

“ ou ugly brute 1" c ed Amy Elwood, spflnzinc

- ~

.t

"i

 

’7‘.

Death-Face, the Detective. 10

 

forward, her eyes flashing and her whole form
gnivering—" you mean, cowardly wretch, to strike a
efenseless woman l“

She sprung a pace bearer, and with a hold dash
caught old of the whip, to which she clung with all
her might.

“ At him, girlsi IIold him, quick, while I ilog him 1"
she cried, bravely, resolution expressed upon her
face.

The rufflan swore furiously, and made a fierce
eflori: to tear loose, but eight of the prisoners laid
hold of him, with sudden determination, and he
was home to the iioor, and held there as in a vise

Then, Amy wreiiched the cruel whip from his
grasp, and raising it repeatedly. brought it down
with all her might across his back, which was only
covered by a thin cotton shirt.

Howls of rage and oaths of the most horrible
character escaped the man. as Amy continued to
ply the god to the best of her ability. Ami when
she had exhausted her strength, Annie Boyce took
her place and the inhuman jailer was flogged until
he hegg 4 piteously for quarter.

Then he was dragged out into the outer entry and
left there, while the girls retreated into their prison
and locked the door after them, taking care to retain
possession of the whip as a wee n of defense.

No further molestation was 0 cred them that day,
but Amy did not again attempt to break the glass.

She was too fearful of being caught in theact. and
having her plans frustrated. She hid her messages
under the carpet and bided her time.

The next morning, however, she began her second
attack upon the window, and by careful labor soon
succeeded in dislodging the circular piece of glass.

Then she thrust out her messages, and the wind
waited them away. ' .

“ Now, we can wait and hope." the brave girl said;
“so cheer up, sisters; liberty will soon be ours!"

In the mean time, the metropolitan circles, while
being agitated over the success of the great counter-
feit ring, and the Bl ss ’l‘wved sensation, were not
blind to the extraordinary doings of a modern Coal
10$ Johnnie, who was no other person than Sherry

vnor.

We have passed over some of the features of his
ga reckless career, thinking that it would be more
to future credit. Asthefioriginal Coal Oil Johnnie
sowed his money to the wind, and led a wild, reck-
less exlstence, so did Sherry Raynor follow in his
footsteps, until, eventually, at the end of one month,
he was penniless, and turned for comfort to (‘harlcy
Evans, who had followed his fortunes from the be-
ginning to the end. v

It was a miserably wet, disagreeable summer
night, when the two youths sat together in their par-
lor at the Fifth Avenue. which overlooked Madison
square finishing a bottle of wine, which the last
five-dollar note of Raynor had paid for, a few ino-
ments previous.

A month of this roystcrin had greatly chan ed
Sherry. He was paler and ess vivacious, an a
hunted, hungry expression ever haunted his unna-
turally bright eyes. _

All that was to be seen for money in the great
metropolis, he had seen, and Evans had been his con-
stant com anion, sharing his {oys and sorrows
like a hrot er. A strange yout i Sherry thought
him, sometimes, but withal a 'olly good companion.

And as they sat facing eac other. to-night, With
the Segtemher rain dashing against the window-
panes, herry Raynor said:

“ Evans, how much had I when I left the streets and
began this life?“

“Two thousand dollars. old boy.“ _

“ Two thousand? Great Heaven, can it be possible
that}, have let that amount slip through my iin-

ers.

" Yes, and twu thousand more with it, which,
lucky dog that you are, you won from the gaming-
table. Twice two thousand, in 11111"

 

“‘My God, is it possible I have been such a fool?
hour thousand dollars in a month! By heaven, it
seems incredible!"

“ But is nevertheless true; and that is not the
worst of it, Sherry." r

“ Not the worst of it? No, I am aware it is not. I
have been a fool. But to what do you refer!"

“ I hardly dare tell you ard, for it will be a great
spook," Evans said, pu ng away slowly at his
C Hill'-

“Indeed, I knew nothing of it until to-day, when I
readla piece in the Herald. Sherry, you are a hunted
criin na 3“

“ A what i“ the astonished youth demanded, start-
ing to his feet, his pale face growing whiter, and his
linings involuntarily clinching. “ I acriminal, Evans

“ Yes, you, Sherry, and now that I see what trou-
ble threatens you, I am sorry that you ever got that
monev." '

“ it‘s about the mono , then?" he . sinkin
hack into the chair, andy pouring out mtflrop (E
Wine from the decanter.

“ Yes, about the money. It seems a criminal has
made a confession, upon his prison death-bed, which
involves tyou. His name was Faro Phil. He was ar-
rested w en suspected of having in his possession a
large amount of counterfeit mone . The money was
not found, but he had enough ot ei- crimes against
him to send him up for nine! days. And he has
died, swearin that the night 0 his arrest he was in
possession 0 two thousand dollars in counterfeit
mone , belonging”? the Ring, which he wastocircu-
late t ron h t e est. But, it seems he got chased
by Death- ace, the detective, in disguise, and on the
ferry-boat met you.

“ ie told you his troubles, and you offered to ur-
chase the ‘ blossoms ’ at ten cents on a dollar, w ich *
was accepted, and the transfer made. You slid off
with tn: ‘ agar.‘ andbhe slid intobthe hands gffltlllio
cops. u , ‘ crry, oy, you‘ve een s mm e
that money boldly and recklessly here {111 the hang
of New York city 1“ ~

The youn man covered his face with his hands;
and groane aloud. This was a terrible blowto him.
Unconsciously he had been all counterfeit
money. and now this death charge of Faro Phil had
forever sealed his fate. He was an outlaw in one .
sense of the word—would be sought for, high and
low and no protestations of innocence from him,
0011 d possibly better his case, after the damnlgf
confession of Faro Phil. lt was to bean uncon -
tional surrender, andsubmit to cars of servitude on .
Blackwell’s Island, or flight an a hunted life.

Ahl which would he the better?

it was some time before the youth spoke, and then
it was in low and husky tones.

“ 1 am glad it‘s gone. Evans,” he said, starin
thoughtfully at his companion. and then‘ rising ans
gom to the window, looking on the avenue. ,

“ lame will come to me, but not for the world ‘
would I handle the stuff again. Besides, I have
learned a lesson, by this experience. I am no ion r
a boy, but see with the eyes of a man. Good- ,
old boy; I am going to hunt up Alec. She can
me.

" You are not going near Aloe.“ Evans said, firmly.
“The girl is we] enough in her way, but you have _
better friends in your dark hour than even she.
Have you forgotten Fay i“ .

“Fay? Fay? No; heaven be praised! Istillre-
member her, though my brain has hardly been
strai ht fora mont- . You promised to takeme to
her"! “rile” yo? Ed] R d i i

‘ es promis as on an were u
now. at we must 0 in dlzguises, which I. av‘e
thoughtfully procu ." -

Ha f an hour later two middle-aged men left th
hotel, and hurried down Broadway through the wet
night as fast as hie. ‘- '

" As I thou h i” said one to the other; “ the hotel
is watched. we of Pinkerton‘s men stood In the

 

f /_ _ 90 Death-Paco.

entrance as we came out. and—" with a backward
« ,. glance. “ Great Heaven! Sherry. tiny arefa/lowt‘ng

r close in our/rear, as I‘m a live man.‘ Comel faster, or
\’ we are lost—l as well as you I"

 

i
I CHAPTER xr.
 ‘ man carcass A canw—nonamo.
' ONthe same wet, rainy night into the darkness
1 of which the flickering glare of the street lamps
. y penetrated, Tom Mc.Donald's “Arms” in
. Mulberry street was more than crowded with the
I atrons from the immediate neighborhood, whose
i , road brogue betrayed the accent of the Emerald
:’ . . sod. Then there were a few Englishmen, and a seat-
‘ terln of native Americans; in tact. Tom‘s place was
r a we known resort for anybody who had ten cents
t to leave with him, in exchange for liquid fire.
1 Also, it was a resort for that low order of sportin
;' ' - men, whose pugilistic barbarities occasionally shoe
1 . the public— rlze-flghters,cock-fighters and dog-tight-
' ers, of whic New York and Philadelplna have an
i over-su ly. _
~ In Me onald’s establishment were little back-par-
i _ lors. into which privileged ones were admitted, and
5‘» ‘ .where business could be transacted in private.
'1 , In one of these a artments. sitting opposite each
I other ata round on! table. on which were liberal
gt glassm of ale, were two men, this evening of which
9 .- ' we write. They were evidently there for the pur-
i‘ , of enjoying a social glass, ud mg from the de-

- w with w ’c they uafled t e c erry liquid—the
‘ ugllshman’s favorite rink.

l But after they had emptied the goblets, they sat

' " . goal at each other a few moments, asif each were
a i” V» r waiting for the other to speak.
4) * Both. were large, brawn! men. past middle-a e in
5 life with whisky well writ on u on their coarse aces
an in their haggard eyes. ougth dressed. and
evil of ap rance. the were such men as mlilt be
selected or dark wor upon just such dar , wet
.nlghts as this. when the metropolis between the two
rivers was enveloped in a dense fog. and the rain fell
in fltful showers.

Outside of the little “parlor.” in the saloon were
heard the shouts of drunken men; maudim songs
and ribald jokes and oaths, and the two men ex-

d glances. - . .

.“ m's rea ing a big harvest " said one. With a

godmf‘ge is t e b’y ter fetch in the honest coppers,
l

“Ohl he'll get rich, never fear," was the reply.
“But where‘s our man? Why don‘t be come?"

“Ohl he‘ll be comln’, never fear, Durg. His se-
cret is‘worth too much to him for him to run any

“ es, I think you‘re right. Curley,“ with a grim

laugh. “He knows the gal—3"
“ Shl" cautioned Curie , with an apprehensive
lance toward a neighbor n corner. where, u on a
p of old blankets, a yout ful t1 ure was on( died,

 
 
     
   
 

an,exp on of repose upon the irt-begrimed fea-
“Ohi ou needn't have no fear of him," said

\ D , wi h a laugh. _
_ Don t know enough ter keep him over night. Drunk
’noth' presume. as he generally is. Fredi I say,

Fool
  ‘Fred was evidently in dreamland. or else too drun
‘ ~ ' , . to answer. He was a devoted habitne of the saloons
‘ r .- . along Mulberry and other like streets, and not a few
' ' harbored him, because he was known to be good at
’ a hand if wanted. ,
’ “Well. maybe he’s all right," acce ted Carley
 satisfied. “Ahl here comes . St. Clou

. As he spoke, a man was admitted into their
presence by the barkeeper, after which the door
, was again locked. The new-comer was indeed Ned
, . 5t. 010ml, whom we have met before. There was an
‘ pasty Ioowl upon his dark taco as he saw the two

“ That‘s Fooly Fred, the idiot.

But there was no response to the call.

 

1

men by the table. and Durg motioned him to a seat
by the board.

“ Well?" St. Cloud interrogated. eyin
men coolly not a trace of fear express in either
tone or loo s. “I am here, you see: now, what the
devil is to (pay "

“A goo ( cal, Mr. St. Cloud," Dur r replied, with
a bland smile. “ We writ you a le ter saying we
wanted ter sec ye on important business, relating to
Celia Orwick. I reckon. You were not slow to come
w’en 6 found somebody knew sumthin’ about the
gal asuies from you. eh?“

"What do you know about her?" demanded St.
Cloud, flercvily, as he leaned forward across the
table, a very evil gleaming in his eyes. “ What do

you know about her?”
on tar Sing-Sing. or, maybe.

.his two

“ Sufficient ter send
hang ye!" was the rep y.

“Poohl you cannot scare me. What have I done
that I should fear your power, pray tell me?"

“O_hi you're a gay rooster. ain’t yet I reckon
you imagine we brought you here for the fun 0'
the thing. which ain‘t the case at all. We mean
business. Mr. St. Cloud, an’ the sooner ye order up
the drinks, the better it‘ll be for all concerned—eh.
Carley?"

“Fo’ sushi" replied ereg, with plantation ac-
cent. “ De massa pa s de bi ."

“ Well, order the rinks then, and I’ll pay for
them,” growled St. Cloud, throwing some co n down
upon the table. “Then, say what you have to say
in a hurry."

h “S’ ose you have important business, elsewhere,
ey?‘

“ That matters not to you. What do you know of
Celia Orwick 9"

“ Considerable, more or less. S’posen you should
wake up sum’ night, wi' yer room in darkness, an‘
her a-layin’ in a coffin by yer bedside, wi’ her white
face? and staring eyes turned accusingly toward
you n
t St. Cloud shuddered violently, at the terrible pic-
ure.

“ What do you mean by this nonsense, you fools i”

e gasped. “ I don‘t understand.”

“You don't? Well, we’ll try to make you. Un-
derstand. then, that we were at hand when you tried
but faded to choke the life out of the gal."

“Muted J” St. (iloud grew whiter still. “ You
don’t mean to say she is alive 1'“

“ Alive and well, sir; but a close prisoner in the
power of yours, trul , Durg and Curie . Yes, In
gay St. Cloud, the a is well, but the c ild is dew ,
and {gm Will he hel responsiblei"

“ hi you cannot frighten me with an of your
humbug. 1f the babe is dead, so much t e better.
She cannot make me marr her."

“ But she can, though. or the brat isn‘t dead at
all. but lively as a cricket." chuckled Curley. “ So
ye see ye‘re in a box yit, my gay rooster.”

" The case is.” said Durg, lgh lng his pi e. “We,
Durg and Carley. turn in a nny, occ onally, by
doin odd Jobs in the park. e see'd you choke the
gal— eered what passed between you. and as soon
as {on were gone. we ran in an” tried to fetch her
hac , an‘ succeeded, though it was a pretty hard
case 0‘ stranfitlilation. After it were dark enough.
we smuggled .r out o‘ the park. and to our board 11‘-
house in Wooster street. where, a week later. she
gave birth to a child. a little girl. the very lcture of
its mamma. She told us her story, and as ed us to
keep her till she was able to work, w‘ich we have
did; an‘ now, beer we air. askin‘ you what ye think
about it?"

“I think it's a piece of high-handed villainy, all
around.“ St. Cloud said. with a quiet laugh. “ You‘ve
got the girl and may keep her—I don't want heri"

“ Ohi ain’t you had i" was the sarcastic response;
then both men laughed, evilly.

“Reckou you don't know us. Better you call
around at number— Wooster street inside of ten

 

days, or we’ll let the gal loose on you."

 

 

:Death-Puce. the Detective. ‘ 81’

 

Then Messrs. Dnrg and Carley arose to depart,
and St. Cloud did likewise.

“I'll come around,“ he said as they passed out
into the saloon. " And in easel should-— ’

“ In case you want the gul done entirely away
with, stick a hundred-dollar hill under the nose of

our humble servant, nn‘ you‘ll never be troubled,
{’11 ruarantee."

T ion the separated, St. Cloud going out into the
street, and essrs. Durg and Curlcy pausing at the
bar to replenish with s arkling ale.

Half an hour later, ooly Fred made his way can-
tiously from the saloon. and out into the rainy night,
a litter of satisfaction in his eyes.

‘ So much for playing the fool!” he muttered, as
he hurried along. ' l have at last got on the track
of the girl, and now it only remains to put Dock Ray-
mond in search of her to complete the job. And
when Miss Nelly finds who was instrumental in find—
ing her sister, maybe a young chap of about my
figure won’t be left clear out in the cold. God, but
the fair Nelly meets my views, precisely.”

 

It was as Evans said.

Two mufiled fl res were hurrying along, not far
behind them, ev dently in ursuit, since the youth
recognized them as two of inkerion's detectives.

“What in thunder shall we do?" demanded Shor-
rfi, breathlessiy, for the thought of arrest under the
c urges against him was horrible.

“We‘ve ot to work our best cards, old boy,”
Evans replied, quickening his pace. “Don’t look
back or the devils will suspect that we scent them.
Come on~—swiftly; watch me, and do as I do, in
every particular.”

They hurried on, with all rapidity racticable,
Evans keeping a watch in the rear and n the front,
showing h mself to he an ode t at dodging.

He was swift of foot an nick to move, and it
was about all Sherry could (o to keep track of

im.

After going several blocks, they crossed over to
the opposite side of Broadway. and continued on.
The ursuing detectives followed their example.

“ E’s us they’re after, without a doubt," Evans
said grimly. “ But I don’t see why they don’t
catch up with us, and make the arrest. That’s
what puzzles me, you know. But Death-Face would
make mighty short work of our little ease."

“ You know him, then 2’"

“By sight; he is the best man on the force. to-
day. Here! quickl come in,“ and Sherry was pulled
into a. grand saloon, which he had never visited be
fore. Following in the steps of Evans, who nodded
familiarly to t e barkeeper, thev assed into the
parlor at the rear, and Evans caiie for a. bottle of
champagne, which was brought with accompanying
glasses.

“ Now, make yourself at home and appear as
much at ease as ssibie," was the injunction to
Sherry. “ Ah! as thought, here the ducks come."

For the two detectives were seen entering the par-
lorsat this moment. Both of the youths trembled in
their shoes, for they expected no hing else but that
thfiy would be arrested.

ut to their so rise, the “ shadows " took posses-
sion of another to lo, and called for wine.

“They an t us in this old man disguise,but
yet are afrai to tackle us, for l closely resemble a
certain notable olitician‘s son," Evans said, in a
low tone. Then 9 began a brisk conversation on
the uestions of the day, gutting forth in strong and
elfec ive language ideas t at would have done credit
to an educated politician of older ears.

Sherry at in a word occasional , expressing his
views. an the general tone of their conversation
was such as might be heard in a club-room any day
of the campaign term.

And both Evans and Sherry were aware that their
auditors were listening intently to every word, ai-
thou b they kept up a desultory run of talk, unin-

~ to ing to themselves and others who heard it.

 

“Ohl hum; where shall we go—home?"
exclaimed Evans, with a tremendous yawn; “
suppose you start back for Chicago in the morning,
eh or will you stop over with me? I expect
Governor to tea, to-morrow, and I would like you to
be present."

‘ Perhaps I will stop over another day “ re lied
Sherry, loud enough to be heard by the detec ves.
“My business is not imperative. But come. you
Womised to show me some of the sights to-nighti

her? (tire they 9" l k i

‘ in ‘s so; we must on ntosome of the aces,
as rmniscd." 1 f h l pal

ey rose and e t t e sa con, Evans a l
the champagne at the bar. Once out it‘i‘toy 
way, Evans led the way toward Fulton street at a
rapid walk, occasionally looking back to see if they
were followed.

.Snre enough, the detectives were comin on be-
hind, as usual, quickcning their speed wit' that of
the fu vitivcs, or in other words keeping such a dis-
tance etween them and their prey, as would not
allow of their escaping should they attempt to.

“They are coming, eh?” Sheri queried, with a.
bitterness in his tone that meant t 9 two opposites—
defiance and repentance. I

“Yes, hang them. I think I know their one.
They have a suspicion that we are connec with
this great counterfeiting ring, and repose to shadow
us and thereby discover where t e bogus money is
manufactured. But, I‘ll wing them on that calcula-
tion. This way, Sherry!“

The turned into a narrow by-street, where the
lamp- lghts were few and far between, and darkness
was consequently thicker. Evans led the way with
a firm, ringing step. and Sher dogged close at his
heels. The street was flanke by old brick tene-
ments, and the drizzling rain caused a sickening
steénch to rtilse frgintthe utltlers. b

n—on ey as one , t eir reath commg'
goin in ants. “d

Be in _thcm could he heard the footsteps of their
persevermg pursucrs. They were bound not to lose

he game even though they faced fire. _

On—on; then Evans pulled {Sherry up a pair of
igiililrble steps, and jerked spitefully at the door

8

“It’s a notorious bagnio," he explained. “but I
know the door-keeper, and we can escape to- the
next street.” '

The door was opened by a pretty young lady, not
yet out of her teens. r

“ It‘s me, Kitty!“ Evans said hurriedly. “ The men

of Pinkerton’s a ency are after us. For God’s sake '

let us in1 and go do us to the next street!"
The girl nodded, and Evans and Sher

ate 4
inside, after which she bolted the door on “neg

for them to follow her. .
She led the wa through several brilliantly-lighted
and gorgeousl - urnished parlors, then through a

kitchen into a ack coon-filo, out of which a cor-i,

ered wa led to the street 0nd.
Here 'tty left them. and vans plunged into the
dark passage. Sherry following

trusting all in his companion sguidance. Present-

ly they emerged into another narrow thomiéighfm; .
3 ve v -

and as they did 50, came face to face with
ones they were trying to evade—the two “shadow '
detectives .’

 

CHAPTER XII.
a mourn rm: BUSH-“FAX.

nun-nu
In the mean timea Death-Face, leaving his other

business in charge 0 his two aids, was prosecuting
his search for the missing Amy Eiw , ,
Nearly a month had now passed since his first dil-

biindly, for he was ~

   
   
    
   
   
    
   
   
   
  
  
   
 
   
   
    
  
   
   
  
    
   
  
  
   
   
    
   
  
    
   
  
  
   
 
  
   
   
 
 
 
   
    
   
   
   
 

covery of her strange absence. during which time he  '-

had been on the, watch and wait incessantly.

He had telegraphed to the Cape. Long Branch
and all the principal watering-places inland and
upon the coast, wi hout learning ,of her thdieut

tidings on which to base his much, He went'evay .

  
  
  
     
       
    

83 , Death-Pace. the Detective.

 

few days and talked with the maid. Molly. but as at

the household knew nothing concerning their air

mistress. It was the third case that had "stuck"

the b0 d detective~flrst. the great Counterfeit Ring;

seeon the mystery of the whereabouts of Celia Or-

wick; t it'd, the mystery of the whereabouts of Amy
Elwood. the young heiress.

Her absence, the detective found. gave little rise
to remark among the circles in which she was wont
to move. for the season out-of-town was prolonged
this year on account of the extreme length of the
heated term.

But when autumn advanced he know there would
be more inquiry. and ere that time he meant to find
her if such were a possible thing.

On the day of the evening on which Fooly Fmd
overheard t e conversation between St. (lloud and

‘ Messrs. Du and Curley. Death-Face. while saunter-
in up Bro way. espied Clarence Seymour. Amy‘s
ainous cousin. standing at the corner of Fifth
avenue and Broadway. in conversation with a port-
ly. elderly individual. with gold eye-glasses and an
immense paunch.

“ Hal" the detective muttered. instantaneously

, halting. and making Kretense of gazing into a store
window. “ There is t e Seymour party at last! Ho
has kept pretty shady since that murderous attempt
to break my neck from the club-room trap. Who is
that old rosebud he is talking with? i have seen him
somewhere—in the police court, I guess—but cannot
recall his name. But I‘ll wager he is an old rogue;
so I'll remember him. That Seymour must tell me
something concerning the whereabouts of Miss El.
wood when he gets done with the portly cha ."

And accordingly the detective loitcred non-z at

v the show windows. keeping an eye upon the two
I men at the comer. bound that they should not cludo

.. his vigilance.

.‘ i ' Full fifteen minutes elapsed are the portly man

~ turned on up the avenue. while Seymour came on

. down Broadwa at a re. id gait. When just about

opposite. Den -Face 3 epped forward and inter-

,~./‘.‘ ' “' “ . ._. . .

    
 

vi.

3:...

him.
. Hold 11 . Mr. Seymour." he said. in his undeny-
' . tone 0 command which so few cared to disobey.
“ n’t be in a hurry. for I wish to s oak with you."
“ yrnouri“ was the reply. as t e young man
came to a halt. “ That is not my name.“
‘ “ Olll isn't it? Well. maybe I know something
about that myself. Your genuine name is supposed
to be Clarence Seymour. of N o. — Fifth avenue. I
am. as you well know. Death-Face, the detective."
“Ahemi yes, I believe I have read of you. Ad-
mitting that my name is really Seymour, what do
want of me. sir—you. a detective?"
""1 want to know where your cousin. Miss Elwood,

“ Oh. you do. do you? Well. you are destined to
have your desires un ratified for the present. then."

' “Am I? You won t tell me?“

“Certainly not. because I don’t know. If I did.
what business is it to you?"

"A t deal of business. Amy Elwood is my
bet wife."

'1! there was no truth in this declaration. Death-
Face thought it might affect his auditor. and so it
did. He flushed angrily. and a steely glitter came
into his eyes.

‘~ ‘ “Iknow nothin of her. I supposed her to he in

Cape May at first. ut a telegram proved that I was
. wrong. and therefore, I know as little where she is
as you do. and am greatly distressed.“

‘ Without doubt." Deathdi‘ace said. in his dry. sar-
castic way. “If she were never to come back. now-
: ever. on would be rejoiced—would not be financial-

ly die: that is."

F “ at do you mean, sir. by your insinuations!"
i’ 3 ' ' cried Seymour hotly. “Your insolence is unpar-
donablel"

_ “YOu seem to tumble to my meaning prett
strafi‘ the detective laughed. qtuietly. "Or. f
' ‘ you your whisky straighter ye , why. I believe

 

you do know just whore Miss Elwood is: moreover,
that you have got her imprisoned somewhere. while
you are squander-mg hcr wealth. Hal ha! The
ammer gave the nail a hard hit that time. didn‘t it.
you roscbudi" for Seymour had colored as red as a
{3359. under the truthful accusation of the detec-
ve.
int he mustered his agitation in an instant. and
ion lied. coolly and mockingly.

“ 'our imagination is very strong but floats in tho
wrong current of atmosphere,“ he observed, twirl
ing his cane. jauntily. “ I have no such schemes
against my fair cousin‘s firopm'ty and welfare. it is
a great mystery to me w at has become of her!"

" And a mystery to me. and soon will be a mystery
to the public. when suspicion will point toward you.
So you will do well to tell me where she is.“

“ Look for nngcl Gabriel to blow his trumpet when
I do. that‘s all." replied Seymour.

“ But you must—shall ."‘ Death-an snid. lnyinl:
one hand upon the young swell‘s shoulder, “or I
shall put you under arrest. and take you to tho nonr-
est station-house. charged with trying to kill me, and
with [nssing counterfeit money.“

“ Go ahead. then. All you’ll realize will be my con-
finement on the Island. for a few months. For you
can gain nothing in regard to your unwarranted sus-
picions of my abducting Miss Elwood. If you will
glance in the Herald of today. you will sec that I
have offered five. hundred dollars for information of
Miss Avny Elwood. who mysteriously left her home.
in August. I should not be apt to advertise for her.
if I did not desire her return—“

“ If you didn’t desire to blind the people," correct-
cd Dnutli—Fncc.

“Well. have it as you will; I don't care it fig
whether you arrest me or not.“

“ In which case i shall not arrest you." Death-Face
replied. releasing his hold. “ You can go free for a
few days. until I mature my plans. but you need not
attempt to escape from the city. as that will Brecipi-
tate your nrrest. for henceforth you will 0 con-
tinually shadowod. The same advice will a ply to
your worthy companion-in-amis. St. Clou . The
government wants a couple of expert handlers of
the ‘queer.‘like you and he. and your attempt to
escape will instantly supgl y the want.“

“Oh! don't you fear t. at I shall make the least
attempt to get out of your reach." Seymour snccrotl.
contomptuously. “I am not so badly scared.“

“ As you will be when the King‘s head-quarters are
raided. and a few millions‘ worth of bogus paper
destroyed. Then the sky will look dark for you and
St. Cloud."

“ So you say. But when you find out anything in-
teresting in either case. Just call around and let me
knowfiwill you? I shall be pleased to See you at any
time.

And then the young villain turned on his heel, and
strode briskly away. up Broadway.

Death-Face watched him a few moments. thou
simmered off. reflecting on the foregoing conversa-
t on.

“I am more positive than ever that he has Miss
Elwood shut up somewhere now." he muttered.
“ but it will be useless for me to attem t to find out
whore h quizzlng him. He would ( in before ho
would tea. I shall have to lot the matter drop until
some new light is thrown upon it."

That afternoon. however, he was destined to re-
ceive a clew to the m story.

In passing along iird avenue, in front of Doctor
Heidie’s private asvium. a small-sized shower. com-
posed of bits of white paper, came down from above.
alighting upon his coat and hat.

“ Hello! Bridget has found a new method of dis
posin of the dirt." he muttered. in disgust. brush-
ing 01% the pa rs which clung to him. But. while
thus engaged, e noticed that some of the slips had
writing upon one side. and curiosity prom ted him
to glance at the contents of one or more. that he
read was a startling bit of news to him. Each

 

penance. the Detective. ' ea

 

paper on examination proved to contain the same
message. name : ‘

“ This is Doctor Heidle‘s private mad-house. Nearv
ly a score of unfortunate women are imprisoned
here who are not insane. hut perfectly rational.
Help us out of this living tomb. for the love of Godl

“Aim ELwoon."

 

Sherry uttered a fierce c as he beheld the two
detectives. whom the ' had en trying so hard to
elude. and making a orward spring. he struck one
of them a blow upon the forehead that dropped him
to the pavement. from which he rolled into the gut-
ter. insensibie.

The other detective was about to give an alarm
when Evans adopted Sherry‘s example. and render-
ed him silent and useless for a few moments. during
which the boys took good care to leave the neigh-
borhood with ails d ossible.

For fear that ot ero Pinkerton's men might be
on the watch for them. they still retained their (lis-

uises. and hurried through the streets. which the
fam ~lights ve dimly illuminated.

“ a'e’ve shoe the ghost now. for a time at least."
Evans said. his tones more s irited. ” We will go and
see my sister. Fay. and tin a lace to coo down
until] this blows over sufficien ' to ndmi of our
escape from the city."

Presently they took a cab. Evans giving the direc-
tions and paying the fare.

Through the foggy streets whirled the cab at a
lively rate of speed, yet it seemed an interminable
s ace of time to Sherry ere the vehicle sto pod and

eposited them in a little but wonderfuly clean
street running east and west. It was out near the
subur . and more quiet and retired.

Evans rung the bell of one of a row of neat little
two-story buildings. with ainted shutters and wal-
nut door. Then. hey wai ed upon the stedps.

“Shouldn’t wonder if Fa 's abed an asleegfi"
Evans said. giving the hel another jerk. “ e
generally retires early. unless she has extra work."

“What is her occupation?“ Sherry ventured to
ask. partly forgetting his own troubles as the mem-
ory of the little roguish beauty he had met on the
boat came back to him afresh. causing his heart to
heat faster.

“ Fay is a dressmakerl" replied Evans. with a lit«
tie laugh; “ and as good as she is prettg. Ahl here
we have her now,‘ as the door was t rown open.
and a young lady. rett in form and feature. was
revealed in the h of t e hall chandelier.

For a momen all was silence. but the moment
Evans removed his false heard. Fay sprun forward
with a delighted cry. and was folded in t 0 young
man‘s embrace.

“Ohl Charley. you naughty. naughty boy! how
you frightened me in that odious disguise. I t ought
of a hundred horrible things in a moment-murder,
thieves. fire. and—“

“ Didn’t hit the right appellation, dear. But come
inside; I suppose you can keep us. This is mv
friend She Raynor. Fay—also in disguise. Oi!
with the whis ers. Sherrp, and follow our lead.”

And. when they were in an inexpensively but
neatly-furnished ittle parlor, where the gaslight
shed a soft. mellow radiance over all. Sher? gota
better slim e of Fay—his Fay. as he had 0 ttimes
secretly cal ed her.

She was a prepossessing and prettily-formcd girl
of seventeen. or thereabouts. neither slender nor
stout. but of medium hight and development grace-
ful. lithe and supple—reminding one of a happy.
healthful school-girl. .

Her face was st that some pretty face that had
so impressed h in two years before. when he met
her on the Fulton ferry-boat—a face of roguish
sWeetne with dancing hazel eyes. and long. wav-
ing hair t at fell below a faultless waist. She was
attired in a loose flowing wrapper, which had evi-
dently been hastily thrown on. yet she looked ten-

 

fold more charming to Sherry than though she had
been clad to pi-Ifeclion in silks and laces.

“ Here we are safe and dry.“ Charley Evans cried.
giving his sister another bug. and then stretch]

imself uponacouch. “Off with the false
Sherry. and make yourself at home, for we‘ll have
to make this our home. until the row blows over."

“ What row. Charley i" Fay asked, anxiously, tum-
ing to him.

“ Oh! the police-mm rather. the detectives—want
us for unknowingly having counterfeit money. So
we‘ll have to lie low here. and the first chance that
offers. slide out of town. Don‘t get scared though.
for no harm shall come to you. sis—or to us. for that
matter. But. look, Sherry has of! his whiskers; see
if on recognize him."

ay turned toward Sherry with an inquiring
glance. and gazed at him intently, a moment.

“No!” she said. at last, reflectively. “I do not re-
coggnize you. Mr. Raynor, as any one I have over
me ."

“ Then it isn‘t a case of love on both sides. after
all." laughed Charley from the sofa, “for they say
love never forgets. l reckoned you were forever
gone. sis. after that ferry-boat afiair—"

Fay's cheeks crimsoued prettily. and a. strange
light gleamed from her eyes. -

“it cannot be ossihle that—" she began; then
suddenly stopped 11 confusion.

“ Yes. Miss Evans. it can be possible.“ She
laughineg replied. advancing and extending be
hand “that I am the hero and on the heroine of
that erry~boatcaprico. Here ist elittle notenow.“

And as Fav warmly clasped one of his hands in
both of hers. he produced from his vest pocket a lit-
tle stri of SOilEN . torn paper, on which was traced,
in a de icate hand. the name that Sherry had always
remembered—Fay.

“Oh. yes. that proves your identity." she cried.
“But, l‘d never have known you. you've changed
so "

lint Sherry felt sure that he would have recognized
her pretty self among a thousand. at the Antipodes.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
rAY’s HOME—DANGER—DETEO‘HVES.

THAT night was one of the happiest Sherryhad
ever ex erienced. Fay was a gay, vivacious crea-
ture. wi ty. intelligent and sensible; fairly educated.
and a good conversationalist; she made the most

b a of companions.

Evans also occasionally put in a few words. but
mainly the eflort of entertaining Sherry was left to
Fa , while he pulled at his cigar, an intent listener;
an . as for Sherry. he could have asked for no more
charming an entertainer than the prett Fay. with
all her artlessness. and conflding dis si ion.

Just such a little woman as she, harry decided.
would make him a good wife-one whom he could
love. honor and trust.

He looked at thin . diflerent. now. His past
month of wild fast ii e had developed an older head‘
upon him, an had created a wise. far-seeing young ,
man out of 1!. ca . idle outh.

But he forgo his roubles in the com anv of
pretty Fay—forgot that he was a hunted c mind-—

orgot all. except that he was in her fascinatinr
Eresence. and she was weavinga blissful spell around ~
tiim for which there was but one word of explana-

on— two.

“ I don‘t know what ever made me give you that
slip of (paper. on board the boat." Fay said. seatinz
hersel upon the sofa beside him, after Charle had
gone on rummaging after something to eat n the
pantry. “Isaw your face and was favorahlyim-

ressed with it—and. then. you know. I was only-

teen,lat that time. and wild and rattle-braiued. like
most girls of my axe. I am sure you will excuse me
for that little caprice. and think no more of it."

“ I'll excuse you. certainly. if there is anything to
excuse, but I can never forget that little incident.»

 

" ‘i‘r _

l
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L.

 

    
   
 
 

.I‘Sherry

’ .vwewillsay—ad

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'84, Death-Pace. the Detective.

 

for it opened up to me a glimpse of paradise I had
never aspired to before. was a thoughtless, devil-
may-care boy of the streets then,and never consid-
ered the girls of much account—barely noticed, and
rather shunned them, in fact. But after I caught
agilmpse of your Siren. face, Miss Fay, upon the
Fulton ferry, and e s y pressure of your hand,
then was that vision of future paradise presented——
then did my first boyish love begin.“

“Ohl Mr. Raynor, you don’t really mean to tell
me that you fel in love with Oor me?"

“I mean just that, Fa , an 1 have loved you ever
since, just as I do now.’

His voice betrayed how sincere he was in his decla-
ration, yet Fay shrunk away and rose uickly to her
feet as he would have drawn her close y to him.

“ 0, Mr. Raynor, we are not lovers, yet," she said,
slightl haughty in tone. “ We can be friends,
thoug ust the same.“

Then s e resumed her former sent, just as Evans
came in bearing a plate of rosy-checked apples, and
a pitcher and glasses.

‘ Who says this isn’t a provident district?" he
laughed, first passing around the apples. and then
url out three brimming glasses of cider.
p0
‘Here s to our mutual success through life, my
friend, and peace and good will toward men—and
all pretty oung ladies. ‘

“0h! arleyl just as if the old ladies wern't as
good to be included, as us young ones!"

“Well, we won’t dis ute about that, sis; this was
a dparty toast. Eh? herry, how do you like the
ci err

“ Give me it in preference of all other drinks, save
waterl". replied Sherry, enthusiastically, for the
cider was recently made made, fresh, sweet and
wonderfully delicious of flavor.

“Itisa capital thing to drink when one is too
sweet," said Fay gravely, yet Sherry caught a

lab glitter in her glance, and a meaning under-
lying her words, and a flush of mortlflcation and
anger, darted across his countenance.

‘ I’ve made myself ridiculous in her sight." he
muttered under his breath, biting his lip. “Con-
found it, she shall not/have cause to twit me of
sweetness, very soon again.“ .1

And Sherry meant it, too.

'Charley observed the cut, and very suddenly
floured out another glass of cider, that he might not

u h outright.

“ ove‘ on Sherry‘s part, as I ex ted," was his
silent soliloquy, “and he’s tried 0 rush matters
while! was out, and he’s got his chance. Good!
‘3 agood fellow, and his recent lesson will
. make a man of him, and I‘d like to see him and Fay

‘ " . come together. But it is useless for him to get in a

hurrv. ,Fay isn't nobody‘s fool, and she’ll rap him

' one for every advance he makes until she gets ready

for him; then. it would be just like her to pop the
question herself."

A' And pretty Fay saw that she had cut and the cut

been received, and the next moment she was

("sorry for it. But she was too proud to show it in

V,-either word or action—too proud to own that she—
mired him.

And thus the evening passed away, and the clock
upon the mantle chimed twelve ere Evans pro

« _, * posed that they retire. which the finally did.

Sherry was given a neatly-urn15hod bedroom
ining Charley's, and the bed had so much temp-
‘tat on for him. hat it was ten the next morning

, , . before he awoke, to hear Charley pounding at his

door, commanding him to tumble out for break-

, which he did, and after making a careful toilet
descended to the little dining room, where Fay had

_ the repast waiting.

The morning was very close and sultry and the
young hostess was prettin attired in a light, airy

7 . costume, with slippers upon her small feet, and a

bunch of fresh-b own roses other throat, which

'  : ,made her look sweet enough to eat, Sherry thought,

 

as he took alternate glances at her and the food
upon his plate.

He was pleasant in his address to her, but she
instantly perceived that he was more reserved than
before she had iven him that merciless stab. And
how was she to at him know how sorry she was,
without com romising herself in his estimation?

After brea fast he and Evans lounged around in
the parlor for a con is of hours, smoking; then
Evans went out nroun the neighborhood to see how
the land lay.

Shortly after Fay came into the parlor, with a
wide-rimmed straw hat set jauntily upon her head,
ghellvery picture of a very pretty, modern Maud

ll 81‘.

“ Do ty‘ou play croguet, Mr. Raynor?" she asked.

“Oh! i 3 ever so cc; and we have such a nice
little ground."
“ I on‘t know B from broomstick about it, but I

trust I won‘t make a bad ptipil," Sherry replied
rising and donning his hat. ‘ you will accept of
me. I will be happy to learn.”

“ 011! of course; come this way," and she led the
way into a back yard, inclosed with a white picket
fence, and bordered with beds of blooming, fragrant
flowers. In the center a croquet round was staked
off, and the balls, mallets, and wic ets all ready for
use. And under Fay’s tutelage, Sherry soon learned
so that he could Play a very fair game. After the
had become tire( of pla ing, Sherry offered her 11 s

.arm, and they went wit '1: doors, where it was a

trifle cooler

“ I don‘t want you to be offended at what I said
last night, Mr. Raynor,“ Fay said, looking frankly
up into his face. “ I only said it for fun, not think-
ing you would resent it.”

“ You meant it enough at the time.“ he replied,
carelessly turning over the leaves of a book.

She came and laid a hand upon his arm, and then
flor the first time he saw that tears were standing in

er eyes. .

“I didn’t mean what I said, Mr. Raynor-indeed I
didn't. I only said it to tease you, Won‘t you for-
give me?”

“You are free] forgiven, Miss Fay," he said
heartily, offering er his hand, which she accepted
with an ea erness that he observed with a thrill;
“ and we wi remain friends. Maybe it will not al-
ways he as now."

‘ Maybe not always,“ she replied, in a low tone.

Just then Evans came rushing in from the street,
flushed, panting and excited.

“Our goose is cooked!“ he cried, grimly, locking
the hall oor: “the detectives have trac ed us to
our lair, and now we cannot escape them!"

Death-Face could scarcely re ress a yell of excite-
ment as he read the notice, w ich, as he supposed,
a servant had, with other rubbish, pitched from an
upper window to save the trouble of carrying down-
8 airs.

“ Amy is confined here, and this is a mad-house. or
rather a prison for women who are in peo le‘s way,"
he said, pausing and surveving the struc ure with a
critical glance. “In the third story, and robably
guarded zealously. Dr. Heidle—ahl I have t. That
was the big old reprobate I saw in conversation
with Seymour, undoubtedly. I can find his place of
business in the directory. I must look into this
case.

He went immediately to the room in Mulberry
street, but neither Dock Raymond nor Fred Funk
were there. Nor did they put in an appearance until
late in the evening. by which time Conroy‘s patience
was well taxed. _ Raymond was the first to come,
Fred soon followmg.

“ Hello, you in so early, boss? What's happened!"
demands-d Dock, hunting up his pipe and tobacco,
in order that he might have a comfortable smoke.

“ A good deal has hap ned ” replied Death-Face,
{nog'gdexultance in his us than he usually mani-

es . . -

 

 

 
   

 

l
v .

 

 

Death-Pm. the Detective. 8‘

 

“I have found where Miss Elwood is confined 1"

“And I have found where Miss Celia Orwick is
quartered i“ announced Fooly Fred, entering at this
moment.

“ The deuce you have. Where?" demanded Dock,
springivtég to his feet.

"In ooster street. But let’s hear the captain’s
portion first. Mine’ll keep."

Accordingly Death-Face related all about his in-
terview with So mour, and about the notes that had
been showered own upon him.

Then Fred related what he had learned in the
saloon—about the interview between St. Cloud and
Messrs. Dora; and Curley, finishing up with a descrip-
tion of the house on Wooster street where (‘elia was
confined.

" Well, we have got two cases on hand from which
we are not liable to realize much!" Dock remarked,
puffing at his meerschaum meditatively. “ But I’ve
got another one demanding immediate attention,
which will fetch in a few thousand. This Raynor
boy. who has been leading such a fast life for a
month past, has. it turns out, been very coolly cir-
culatin two thousand dollars' worth of counterfeit
money n this city, as revealed by Faro Phil's death
the other day. ow from all I can pick up I believe
he is innocent."

“I was going to speak about that, but it slide
my mind. Isaw the death confession here in his
evening aper. Now I was after Faro Phil the same
night of arrest. and saw him gull the boy on the
boat. And they escaped together; but I am positive
the boy gave no ten per cent. for that ‘qucer,’ for
I'll wagler he didn't have ten dollars at the time.
Maybe e slid off with the bundle. believing? it to be
genuine money, and this angerin Faro hi], the
moundrel resolved to. strike him a t blow, which
he has effectively done."

“You're sound there. The boy‘s prospects are
mined in New York. All of Pinkerton's men are on
the watch for him, and they are making up a re-
ward purse in Wall street."

“ And has be dodged them ?“

“Successfully, so far. He has Charley Evans, the
fellow who was once a ‘ shadow ' on Pinkertou’s
force, for a comrade, and Evans knows the ragga,
you bet! He was discharged, you will remem r
on suspicion of being concerned in a swindling ma-
chine on lower Broadway, but his innocence was
proven so far that he was offered a job back on the

orce which he refused.”

“ Well, the show is a little better for Raynor then,
but they. cannot long escape the vigilance of fifty
e rts.

‘ Not unless we help them. I saw Samuel Raynor
to-day, and believing in his nephew‘s innocence, he
offers to give 11 five thousand do out of his own
pocket, if we can get. the boy safe out of New York
westward bound."

“ He does? George, that it a good offer, but it is

hardly the thing for us to accept," said Death-Face,

slowly.

" Not with the belief that the boy was guilty in
' shoving ' those ‘ blossoms,‘ no. But [believe he did
it unknowingly, for the reason that Evans was con-
stantly with him, and I am well satisfied of his hon-

est .‘ —

IP71 hardly believe him guilty. myself, but we
would be risking our necks in tryin to sm is
him off. But. an how. we will ivet e mattert e
bestof our con oration. And 11 the mean time,
we have got work before us in the behalf of mercy
which appeals stronger than money. You shall
manage Miss Orwick’s rescue. whileI will take Fred
and myself to cope with Dr. Heidle and Seymour."

. CHAPTER XIV.
burn-Men’s amt): mun.

Fos two hours or more the three detectives dis-
cussed, plans and re-discussed them. until each
finally found one suiting their case. Fred Funk was
to negotiate with Dr. Heidle for the imprisonment

  

 

of an elderly maiden aunt, who was to be no other
than DeathFace in disguise, for, once inside the
private mad-house, with the (proper tools concealed
about his person. the great etective had no doubt
but that he could work his passage out without
much difficulty.

Of course i was within his power to make an
open raid upon the institution. with aid from the
metropolitan police, but then there were ten chances
to one that there would not be a female nor in
the place, so handy are these pseudo octors at
smuggling and quieting.

Therefore, it was the ht best to release the girls
first and arrest the doc or afterward, as the testi-
mony 0f the risoners and himself, Death-Face cal-
culated. wou d be all that was needed to procure
conyxction and a lonw sentence.

So having decider? u n their plans. Fred set out
at once for Doctor Heid e's place, where Death-Face
had learned that he lived by consulting the directory
of names and residences.

But something else occurred before he reached his
destination. Ere he had got out of Mulbe street
he met a hurrying, cloak~enveloped figure. w ich he
at once recognized, even though the darkness was

intense.
“Miss Nell Orwickl“ he said, blockadi her
passage. " hat are you doing so far from one

on this wet night!"

The little woman burst into sohsasshe saw and
recognized the young detective, who of late had
called 11 n her several times.

“0h! r. Funk I have no home an longer. I am
homeless and sheiterless. for my land ord has turned -
me out on the streets, and sold all my furniture and
clothing, except what I have on my person."

“ The low-lived brute!" Fred involuntarily ex-
claimed, drawing her under his commodious um-
brella as if he had the right to protect her. “You
owed im considerable, eh?“

“ Onl six dollars, and I could have soon paid it if
he wo d have treated me half-way decent; ' with a
fresh burst of tears.

“Well, that is bad, but don't cry, Miss Nelly, for
you have a friend in me: and you will let me care
for you, will you not, until we find and restoreto
you your sister?"

“ 0h, sir, but that will never be, I fear," replied
she. sorrowfully. “Obi would to Heaven that I
knew what has become of my poor sister—my own

what, Miss Nelly. I was lucky
enough to over a conversation, which complete-
lv unraveled the mystery. Your sister Went to meet
St. Cloud in the park. and he made a murderous
assault upon her and left her for dead. But two
ardeners had witnessed the scene, and rushed into

t e arbor where she lay, and were successful in
bringing her back to life. So they took her to their
home on Wooster street, where she still remains
confined So we have set Deck Raymond after her,
and as he thinks the world of her—as I do of her
prett sister here—he will be likely tops: in his best
effortvs to rescue her."

“ Oh. Heaven be praised!" exclaimed mfnl
Nelly. “ I feel I have still something to live or."

“Miss Nelly, I assume the right of guardian and
protector for the present, until I can make other
arrangements. I will take you to an old aunt‘s of
mine. and she will give you a good home and accom-
modations."

“0h. sir, you are very kind." Nelly said, tears
again springing into her eyes. and her little form
trembling with emotion. “I know not how I can
ever re you.

Fred idgilgnot answer for a few moments but when
he did, he stopped in under an awning an drew her
closely to him, kissing her passionately upon the
mafia]? adldlliips' th re is ‘ ay ou can 

e or oz 9 one w
me and’n'mke me'the hap lest man a ive. and mm
by returning my kiss, an saying you will be mine

K

I 86 Death-Pace. the Detective.

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forever, until death do us part,“ he whispered, all
his love finding ex ression in his voice.

And Nelly trem led in his firm embrace, and re-
mained silent for a few moments—~moments that
seemed hours to Fred, waiting for his answer.

At last she whispered the wished-for response

es.
And he held her closely to his breast, and their
with all the exultant ecstasy of a new-
born love.

But duty amused him, and urged him onward. Iu~
stead of takin her to the home of his aunt, he took
her to the Fift Avenue, and they registered as Mr.
and Mrs. Fred Funk, after which she was shown to a
suit of rooms, which he had taken, while, feeling
twice the man he had earlier in the evening, he
repaired to Dr. Heidie‘s establishment in Baxter

v street.

On ringing the bell, the doctor opened the door in
person, his immense corporosity making a formid-
able barricade.

“Dr. Heidle, I believe?" Fred said, staring hard at
the old villain.

““r’Fhe same," was the reply.

r .

“ Well, yes. as I have a little private business to
transact with you," and ate ping inside, Fred soon
found himself closeted with t e pseudo M. 1)., in his
office u u an upper floor, and he proceeded to make
known is business.

“ My name is Farbell—Christian Farbell,“ he said.
in his rapl-l, off-hand way. “ I have an elderly aunt
who stands between me, and a great fortune. i
want her removed, and hearing of your ability in
that respect. I concluded to pay you a visit, nnd see
what {cu could do for me."

"A i yes." The doctor rubbed his hands in anti-
cipation of a good fee. “Do on wish the old lady
summarily removed. or mere y ( uleted for n. time?"

“Merely uieted. I've been to d that you have a
private asy um where you can hold people in dur-
ance for a short length of time "

“0h! certainl --for a life-time if desirable.“

wan e0 suu ron au wo

“1 m. dlady h t (‘0 iy ho tt
wee " replied Fred; " then contem late taking
her out West and feeding her to the In inns."

“ Very well. I will keep her safel for you for
the consideration of one hundred an fifty dnl hrs,
and deliver her to any part of the city at the expira-
tion of two weeks."

“Agreed. I will bring her to your asylum to—
morrow evening. She imagines she suffers a thou-

and one ailments, and I can represent you to
be a great cure-all."

Then Fred counted out the required fee, and signi-
fied his readiness to be shown out.

After quitting the doctor’s, he hurried back to the
Hulbe street tenement, and found Dock and an
elderly ady whom he at once pronounced to be
Death-Face in disguise, to be the only occupants.

. ‘é'I‘oo tihini" tFi'redi(-3xt<l:llatimt'g::d, dectlglvel‘y. “ You‘ll
nonavsnspeconn a ,ca n.’

“Think not! Well. 1 am nfrnfd not, myself. I

got the costume at Weisserts, but it didn‘t quite suit

e.
“Go to Shannon, Miller & (lrane‘s, if you want to
fixednup scrumptious. They're the boss, as

, “Pretty fair, yes, but I know of a little dress-
maker, ’out near the suburbs, who once ilxcd Jack
Oramer out in tine style for a masquerade, after he
m furnished the trappings. I think [shall patronize

Death-Face set out the following morning. for
the residence of the little dressmaker in question.

"He first, however, visited several Broadway stores,

dresses and underclothing, so far as
was necesaa , and false hair, a bonnet, and several

. little articles e was like] to need.

, Bubythetime he reac d George street, it was

. mar past. He found the residence, an unpre-

“ Will you walk in.

 

 

tentious little twostory brick, without trouble, and
rung the bell. While waitl for an answer to the
summons he made a little very.

Two men were lounging at the corner, a short dis«
tance away. and were evidently watching some
house in the vicinit . And these men he recognized
to be two of Allan inkerton‘s “ shadow " detectives,
named Day and Hall. What were they doing away
out here, so far from the heart of the city where
the usually held out?

was the problem for solution.

“ What’s wanted?" demanded a feminine voice,
and laucing upward whence came the challenge
Dent Face caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes an
a dark face, through t no shutters.

“ Does Miss Fay Evans reside here?" the detec-

tive asked‘ then came an inkling> of what had
brouéllilt Pinkerton's men here. erha Sherry
and arley Evans had taken refuge in ' house.

and the Shadows suspected it?
“Yes, Miss Evans resides here. What do you
want?" was the re ly.

- “I was referred you by Jack Cramer, who pro-
nounced you an expert in rigging one up for a mas
qucrade."

‘ Yes. sir."

“Well, I wish to secure your services. immediate-
ly, and will give on your price. I have all the flip
lugs with me. ill you accc )t?"

‘I will come dowu," was he answer and a few
moments later the door was opened, an the detec-
tive ushered into the parlor by pretty Fay.

Sherry and Charley, who were both lounging there,
sprun to their feet. the latter drawing a revolver,
as he ehold the great detective.

“ Death-Face!" he gasped, grewing white but
guliing back the hammer of his weapon. “ hat

0 you want hem?“

‘ Nothing of you, young man, nor our compan-
in;f s3 gut upmyoptil'1 revolgarflisaid clung); coolly.
‘ y u ness w you, as vans. w you to
disguise me as a woman, as far as is possible. I am
about to play a bold game, and in order to do it, i
must be made to resemble an elderly lady. Your
art lbiro'ught into play, I believe I can deceive the
W0“ .‘

“ Then on really do not mean harm to my brother
and his riend, sir?" Fay asked, a slight tremor in
her voice, and her face pale and eyes dilated. “ You
promise—"

"There is nothing to promise, my dear youn lady.
Evans and Raynor are not on my list, and shall
offer them no molestation. in fact, I am interested
in Ra nor‘s case in another direction, and shall use
my e orts to screen him from justice, as 1 do not
he love him guilt ."

Satisfied that was right, Death-Face received a
warm welcome from all three, and at his solicita-
tion, Sherry related how he had come into posses-
sion of the counterfeit money, and how he had reck-
lessly squandered it.

Death-Face in turn related what hehad learned
from Samuel Raynor. of Nevada, and of his desire
to get Sherry out of the city. It was wonderful
newsto the young man, and something of his old
spirit returned. _ ,

Evans also related all about their escape, and how
Plukerton’s men had skillfully hunted them down.

“ I‘ll put them oi! scent, ' Death-Face assured,
with asrnlle; “and you must lie shady until I et
ready to run on out of the city, for it will not
safe for you organ-fin very soon."

It was nearl I are Fay had ilxed the detective
up to her so faction, but when the job was com-
p eted, all declared that it would take more than a
:crutiny to distinguish him from an old lady of six-

y ears.
verything was perfect, from the wig of irrs hair
and costume to the pa'nted face and angled gyes.

And well satisfied with the job De -Faoe resa-
ed a. liberal sum of money upon Fay, after wh ch he
took his departure, promising to send the detectives

 

 
   

g, .
l
i

 

i

 

  
  
    
  
 

    

Deathpraoe. the Detective.

 

on a false scent, and nlso to call again as soon as he
completed the business to which he was now devot
.ing his whole personal attention.

 

CHAPTER XV.
DEATH-FACE PLAYS wow-as onsncns.

DEATH-FACE left the house of the Evanses and
crossed over to the opposite side of the street, nim-
ing for the corner where Pinkerton‘s two detectives
were lounging. As he had expected, they instantly
blockaded his path dociswely.

“See here i" said the one named Day, sternly:
“ what does all this masquerade mean? Do you
think to esco )0 us in any such flimsy disguise?"

“Reckon I ve nothing to fear from you." replied
Death-Face, in his own naturnl voice. “You don‘t
know the sort of tree you're burkm" up.“

“ lly Heaven! it is Death-Face! just as I told ye,
Tony!" exclaimed Hall. “What are you doing in
this disguise, pard?"and the ‘shadow put out his
ha nd warmly.

“ Oh. i‘m of! on n lurk," Conroy replied indiffer-
ently. “Got truck of a little game, and am going to
attempt to bag it."

“So? Well i wish you success."

I “ Thanks; but what are you doing’way off up
iere?"

“ Well, according to all calculations, we’re watch-
ing the much from which you just issued.”

The deuce you are!” oath-Face exclaimed in
apparent astonishment. “ Watching whati—that
prett little hazel-eyed dressmaker?“

" o—not particularly her; but for n c7uple of
coons she‘s hnrboriiig—A-Rnynor and Evans. the
counterfeit shavers. We at upon their trail last
night. but they succeeded n giving us the fling, and
came down here. We knew Evans used to live in
this locality, and so come down to invvstigate, and
by luck saw him enter yonder house only about an
hour in advance of you." .

Dvnth-Fuce gave utn-rance to a sarcastic laugh.

“ You came too into," he snid. having a “ blllllli‘l' "
ready for the occusion.“for {our gzune has tied.
After knocking you down his night, Raynor and
Evans both came here and remained through the
night. starting in the morning for Brooklyn, accom~
panied by Charley Evans‘s brother, who came back
as soon as he had seen them aboard the ferry-boat.
I saw them on Fulton street. and it was vans's
brother you saw re-enter the house before I came.
1‘" bet you'll not see your game in this direction
aglain for a month.” ‘

hen the detective turned and tripped down the
street leaving the two “ shadows " to reflect upon
what a had said.

And presently he had the satisfaction of seeing
them quit their post. and come away looking rather
grim and disappointed over their ill-luck.

“It was a whoppin‘ bi hol" muttered Death-
Face. with a grim smile, “ ut, ‘we won‘t count dot
one.’ as old Van Winkle says. Ali‘s fair in this kind
of war, except murder; and I‘m bound Pinkerton's
men sha’n‘t eucher me out of my game. Now then,
back to head-quarters. and then to Doctor H’exdle‘s
asylum. Wonder how I shall like it—in with so many
females?"

There was time for debate on this ques‘ion. as he
got into the waiting cab at the next corner and rode

ack toward Mulberry street. But other thoughts

- occupied his attention.

He thought of sweet Amy Elwood. and how much
he loved her—and would she not think even more of
him if he succeeded in rescuing her from her con-
finement. within that rison to which her scheming
cousin had consigned erl Would not he then dare
to tell her what he had never dared to tell her here-
tofore—that he loved her-and ask her for that small
white hand that many a man would have riled his
neck to possess—the hand back of wh ch was a
beautiful woman, and a great fortune!

. 0n arriving at the tenement, he found Fred Funk

 

   

in waiting for him, and they both drove at once to '
the Third avenue retreat, wherehl Death-Face was
to enter in his clever disguise. He had procured
all the tools and things neces for his purpose
and loncealed them under his cothing. and had
little fear but what he could effect an easy cottage,
{It has were given time, and allowed theuseof is
an 8.

Doctor Heidle received them in the grand parlor.
which Am Elwood had entered ahead oft em a
month be ore, and bade them heseated, while he
turned on a full head of sunlight from the magnifi-
cent chandelier.

“ This is the learned medical grotessor. Doctor
Heidle, I suppose?“ Fooly Fred sni with a bow.

“ The same. young man.“ re licd the old wretch,
with a patronizing rub of hs soft white handl.
“ What is there i can do for you?"

“ I have a case here, sir. requiring a little atten-
tion. and thought you the proper authority to con-
sult. M dear aunt Priscilla is very much run down
in healt ; needs a little strengthening medicine, on
know, and a proper course of diet to fetch er
around ship-shape once 1m re."

“Ahi yes; an easy job to straighten her up.
though it is uplain to see that she is very much debi i-
tated. Wi on leave her in my care, sir? My
boarding fuc itics are the most complete, and 1
can have her under my immt diate charge."

“Will you be content to remain here forafew
‘vlve‘eks, aunty i“ asked Fred, tuininx to-the disguised

e votive.

At first aunty demurred considerably but on
being assured that it wasm be for her con. itutionfl
benefit, she acquiesced. and after givin instructions
to the doctor, that she should be con ned with the
other patients. Fred took his departure; but it was
an understanding between him. Death-Face and
Dock Raymond, that they were all to meet at
Evans’s house in Geo e street. as soon as their sep-
arate tasks were comp eted. '

After Fred’s departure Aunt Priscilla. was taken
up into the thir sto-y by way of the elevator
shown into the prison room. and the door locked
behind her. I

At first she made violent protestations and
screamed loudly for help, when she learned that
she was in a mad-house—tmly a. creditable piece of
acting for Death-Face. ‘

And none of the females suspected that he was
other than what he appeared, and they all clustered
around him which was amusln in the atest de-
ee. though he dared not div e hisi entity. All

e had expected, he found Am Elwood among the
inmates. and she was amen tie foremosr. to offer
consolation. Her month 0 confinement had not
worn upon her much. for the roses were still in her
cheeks, and she was as pi neat and pretty as ever.
At least so thought Dear - ace as he gazed lovin ‘-
ly upon her. She was his loveddeal. and it model)?»
heart beat faster to have her near him—she on
whom he had secretly centered his directions. long

530- v .

After the women had nearly talked him out of his
senses, and he had learned all about how the es-
tnblisbment was conducted. he took advantage of a
couch and laid down—not to sleep. but to think. and
feeling decidedly uncomfortable in his feminine
drapery. He was hardly decided what to do-
whether to attempt to escape that night, or wait

longer—and orlutps fare worse. The ni ht was
black and r iy. and the show for escap was
favorable.

At last he decided that the attempt should be
made, and rising to a sitting position, he motioned
gr Ahrjny Elwood, who came and seated herself by

SS 8.

“What is it. Minty?" she asked, sweetly; “cannot
you get any rest?"

“I don't need an at present, Miss Elwood,“tho
detective re. lied. n his own voice—{“shi don't
solemn, or t e jig’s up, as the boys say. I am a

 

 

284 -' Death-Pace, the Detective.

friend in disguise, who has come to get you out of
this den. I am Death-Face, the detective i"

Amy gave a little gasp of surprise. She could
scarcely credit her sense of hearing, so sudden was
this disclosure.

“Then you are not a woman?" she articulated,
faintly, hardly believing that he was speaking the
truth. It seemed incredible, almost, that man could
be so effectually disguised.

“ a bit of women about me, Miss Elwood.
Ihave en looking for you a month, and it was
merely by chance that I came into possession of
some of the notes that you or some one else set
adrift over the pavement below.“

“Ah! then they were not without result, after all?
I have thrown them out every day for a month. At
last. thank Heaven, they have inen answered—hut
in so strange a way!"

“I probably look strange enough in this rig—so
strange that you fail to recognize me, Miss El-

, .

“Indeed I do, though the outlines of your face

seem familiar."
I “And yet. Miss Amy, in this disguise and under
these most inauspicious circumstances, I wish to tell
you that! ~clearly love you, and ask you to be my
own little wife. As soon as you see me out of this
disguise you must give me an answer, and a favor-
able one, too."

- A deep blush mounted to Amy‘s cheeks. Who was
this stran 9 man, who was so bold in his proposal
of love? S e could think of no one that was in the
detective business among her acquaintances—not
one.

“I am surprised, sir!" she said, a trifle haughtily,
and risin from her Seat.

‘ Well, '11 not press you now, believing you will
reconsider. Please inform your companions of my
identity, that they may not be alarmed. Are we
safe from intrusion for the night)"

“Oh, yes. No one ever enters here after seven in
the evening."

Amy then informed the other inmates of the eat
detective’s presence, and no little wondermen did
the announcement cause. They all flocked around
him and bored him with ucstions until he was
nearly distracted. and he at erward wondered how
he ever withstood the siege.

He managed, however, to make a critical examin-
ation of the a artment and its modes of egress and
ingress. He ound that the easiest and safest way
to escape would be out of the front windows, to the
Evement below. But the windows were heavily

rred and fastened into the casing with long

screws.

“Does Dr. Heidle remain here all night, Miss El-
wood?" he asked, peering out into the dang; dark
night through the aperture in the glass whi - Amy

in e.
. “No- he has another plwe somewhere; he never
' comes ere only when there isa patient to imprison.

There are two persons who remain overnight 9.

Creole woman and a man guard, who is stationed in

the elevator room."

“ i then our escape promises to be easy. I'll
lower you down. How many of you have homes to
' go to when you are free?"

Eleven out of the crowd, lncludi Am Elwood,

were provided for- the others—also nclui ing Amy
ly—Death-Face resolved to take to Fay Evans's home,
not“ other arrangements could be made.

He Emceeded to remove the iron bars by aid of
tools e had fetched alo , and after a con le hours
of noiseless labor he be them off and t e entire
window out, which opened up an avenue of esca e.
But it was nearly thirty feet from the pavemen . a
distance which must be descended by aid of a rope-

, ladder, which he had brought along.

. After everything was in readiness and the women
were repared, he glanced at his watch and found
that t ey had yet a couple of hours to wait before it
would be safe to descend .to the street; so he re-

 

solved to undisguise himself, which hedidbztearing
oi! the-gray wig from his head, rubhin t e paint
from his face, and ridding bhnself of h s feminine
attire, done by touching a concealed spring in the
hack of his dress; when he stood beforejhe aston-
ishei girls once more in his true garb.

Harry—Mr. Conroy l” exclaimed Amy, spring
ing forward with a glad little cry. and the brave de-
tective. made hold to take her in his arms, as she did
not resist.

“ Amy. my darling,” he whispered, softly, im-
printing a kiss upon her rosy lips, "you are now
mine, by right of rescue. Do you care anything for
me. my little Amy i"

“ 0h! Harry,“ she replied, in a low tone, that the
others might not hear. " how can you ask that? l
have loved you ever since you so fearlessly rescued
me from danger, when my horses ran away."

“ And yet, you gave me no for answer a while ago,
when i told you that I loved you, and asked you to
be mine."

“Oh‘. yes, but I didn‘t know it was you under
that disguise," she replied, with a shy glance up
into his e es. “ If I had, I might have taken time to
consider ei’on- I answered. And to think that you
are Death-Face. and I knew nothing of it!"

“Well. now what is to be m answer? Can you
marry me! 150 you love me we 1 enough for such a
9 ep?"

" I more than low you, and will be your wife
whenever you wish for I shall never feel safe again
without a strong. rave rotector like you. Clar-
ence Seymour will be my ife-long enemy."

“ Only in thought, dear, for ere long there will he.
work for him to do on Blackwell's island, or at Sin-"n
Sing. Besides being a villain in countless other ways,
I am satisiied that he is a ringleader among a gang
of counterfeiters.”

The two hours dragged slowly by it set-med. but
at last the clock in a neighboring steeple tolled the
hour of two.

It was raining Very hard. and by peering out at
the window, Death-Face saw the watchman rush
swiftly by, bent on getting under cover.

“Now is our time." he said, fastening one end
of his rope-ladder within the room, and dropping the
other out of the window. “ I will go first, and etch
three or four hacks around onto the next street, and
see that the coast is clear. Then I will return and
assist you all to the ground.“

Sa ing which, he let himself cautiously out of the
thir -story window. and glided down the ladder.
And when he reached the pavement, he found him—
self confronted by a stalwart policeman.

 

CHAPTER XVI.
AND mt novsn inn—noes T0 was raox'r.

Ar Fey’s home all remained quiet after th de-
parture of Death-Face, and it was with feeli . of
gratitude that the two youths saw Pinkerton's
“shadows” turn away from their post and hurry
toward the heart of the city.

"Twenty thousand dollars for twenty years. at
ten per cent. lnterest—phew! you're the master of
sixty thousand dollars, _princl al and interest, or,
rather, of thirty, if this sister 0 yours ever comes in
for a share."

“ Yes, and you can wager your life I will freeze to
this fortune l“ Sherry said, resolutely. " I need but
one lesson of the kind I have recently passed
through to teach me at least common-sense. I long
to see this uncle of mine. for I feel that I shall like
him. He is my only known relative, except Leo."

“ Leo? that s your sister?“ ,

“Yes. and one whom I have not seen in eight
years. lwas ast eleven when I went to work for
the baker, an she was ten. But I have a picture of
her taken before she left the Broadwnv photograph
gallery, and I hope by its aid Death-Face can find

er.

/

,7_ r...— 4"‘<——_..-- ..

 

 

Death-Pace. the Detective.

 

“ What will you do with all your wealth—go West,
I dare say?“ .

“ Probably. for New York is too hot for me. I’ll
let uncle invest in thirty thousand in government
bonds and that wii make it safe, and yield me an
income big enough for my su port. Yes. I shall go
West, 'for I have always h a yearning to see the
great mountain, prairie, and mining regions."

" Well, our best wishes go with you. then, and
accept our congratulations on your bountiful good-
luck.”

Thus the conversation ran, until, finally, Evans dc-
cided to take a stroll around the neighborhood,
through the wet, murky night, to See if the shadow
detectives had really vainosed. .

Sherry concluded not to accompany him, fearing
lest they might encounter danger. which was most
undesirable, under the circumstances. Besides, he
had much rather remain with Fay.

Fay! whom he thought he loved more and more
eve time she came into his presence. She was sit—
ting y the open casument, now. gazing thoughtfully
out into the street upon a pool of collected writer, on
which the gasJamp threw a flare of light, watching
the raindrops drop upon the glass surface; listen-
ing to their reverberations as t ev pattered on
the pancbwonderin how it was all going to end.
Sherry was going 0 , he had said. Could she bear
to have him go, and know she was never likely to see
him again? Ahl no; the tears came into her eyes
as the unwelcome thou hts rushed u on her, and a
lonely feeling entered er heart, ma< e the more so,
perhaps by the loneliness of the sobbing, murky
night. 0, she could not let him go. now that she
had learned so thoroughly the lesson of love—the
sweet, ecstatic lesson that produces such a wild, un-
goveruable desire of the heart—an inex ressible sen-
sation. hard to describe. She could no let him go—
it would rob her life of all its pleasures; yet twice
she had repulsed him, and was he the one to sue
now for favor?"

Ah. perhaps not; wrliaps he would go away with-
out ever speaking 0 his love again.

And the longer she thought upon the subject, the
faster came the tears and with her head bowed down
a n lthe window-sill she wept quietly, but oh! so

tter y.

Sherry did not know that she was crying at first,
but presently discovered the fact. and went over to
her side, wonderingiy. He had no suspicion of the
cause of her of. and w s alarmed. .

" What is t e matter, iss Evans; are you ill?" he
asked, laying one hand upon her shoulder.

His touch thrilled her, and caused her to raise her
tearful eyes to his, and make an attem t to smile.

“No, lam not ill, sir; I was only thin 'ng of some-
thing. and you know thoughts sometimes create sad-
ness in the heart." . ,

“ Ver truly spoken, indeed. But, I ray you will
banish hose thoughts and cheer up. never like to
see a person cry-it makes me feel in a tearful way

in self.

_ x Well," with a faint laugh, " then I will postpone
it until some other time: though I have cause to
feel very sad.“

“ Which I am sorry for," he said, drawing a chair
near, and sitting down. “ I hope no blunder of mine,
has been the cause of your unhappiness, Miss
Evans?"

“ No blunder, no, hut—"

“ Ah! then there is a but in the case, eh, Fay?" he
said. bending closer, and drawing one of her hands
withir; 'his: "is it because—because I am going
away ‘

She made no audible answer save it was by more
tears that filled her eyes, assho again bowed her
head upon the easement. Yet Sherry into rated
h‘er silence to be an affirmative reply. in the a ace
0 we .

“Don't cry. sienna.” he said, utting his arm
.pround her. an drawing her age nst his shoulder.

‘You wouldn't care—" ,

.l'

 

" Ohl don‘t say so, Sherry—Mr. Raynor; you know
well enough I wouk ,“ she replied, nestling closer to
him. “i would be sorry if you were to go without
taking me."

“Taking you! But you would not go."

“Wouldn‘t I? If you don‘t care for my company,
you hadn‘t better ask me, than."

“ Fay i" Sherry's voice was now earnest and
thrilling, “are you trifling with'ine? Somehow these
women are a sad puzzle to me."

“No, Mr. Raynor. I am not trifling with you. I
know I have committed myself, but— ‘

“But what. dariiu Y”

“But I love you,‘ she softly whispered, “and it
would kill me to have on go away and leave me."

“And I love you a so, my treasure!" he replied,
drawing her close to his breast. “ But will your
brother—“

“ No need to fear objection from him, for he
approves of my choice."

‘ And then you will become my darling little
bride?" ,

“Yes. my prince, and I hope that day may not
be t110131;: distant when you shall call me yours in
ti'u ‘ l. ’

And then lip met lip in a fond, clin ng kiss—the
lu-trothal caress that bound two oving hearts
to rather.

u the mean time Dock Raymond was in seth of
Colin ()rwick.

He found the house on Wooster street where Durg
and Curley had stated her to be, without dimculty,
but the next thing was to effect an entrance.

It was a three-story brick, and it was a puzzle to
Dock how he was over to get into it; but not long,
for his subtle brain soon conceived a plan, which he
hastened to put into execution.

Toward the close of the day that witnessed Death-
Face‘s entree into Heidle's asylum, a welloressed,
bewhiskered individual, evidently middle-aged. rung
the hell on the door of the house in Wooster street,
and then waited for an answer to the summons.

He carried a sin ail-sized leather-bound book under
his arm, and looked like a common business-man.
The ring was answered by an- elderlv servant. evi-
dently of Irish descent, who nearly filled the door-
way with her broad groper-dons.

‘ An‘, faith, an' w at would yez be havin’?" she
asked, staring hard at the man outside. “Be yen
wantin’ to see ther master?"

“ Oh! no, Biddy," was the pleasant reply. “I am
the as-man: don’t you remember me?‘

“ ure, an’ are yez the as-mon? I thought ache
wore Galway sluggers. sir "

“ So 1 did the last time, Biddy; but I changed the
style of my heard." .

“ An’ a right sinsible-looking mon flea be. Come
in. if it‘s the meter yez wants ter see, at wipe your
brognns on the mat, furstly." _

The gas-man com lied with this request, and was
shown in through t a hallway to the cellar where
he made an examination of t e meter, writing the
result down in his book.

“Blddy,” he said. u
lar. “ there is a great
somewhere, since last quarter.
sexenty million feet, I know!

)1 coming up out of the cel-
eak of gas through the house.

You have not burnt
Oh, the good saints save us. noi Faith, an‘ how
much isit, yez sez?"

“ Over seventy million feet, actual measurement."

“ Ouch! howly murther. and the master sed e!
burnt more than a thousan’ he‘d skin me alive. "

“I would too, Bidd , for wastin so much. Whyé
woman, your master mined. '1‘ e - will
over two hundred and ten thousand alien."

“ Och! the saints preserve us i" exclaimed the her--
rifled servant. holdin up her hands'in righteous hor-
mg'oii‘ ‘Ym “ii: ling—dings», 31133 ” viding

‘ u“ ’9 pm

’11 insist me a little.” - i,
h “ Beam; 1'“ wurruk the and- o‘ my fingers amm-
onor. ' ~ 5

-.-._.,..

 

 

 

l!

‘low. glad cry. and was folds

. after a month of search.

 

30 ‘ Death-Pace. the Detective.

 

“Well then. my inn is this. ll'here is a young
woman imprison in this house whom I Wish to
rescue. Go bring her to me. ready for the street
and I’ll make your gas-bill 0 two dollars. an
$ve you a V to buy a dress wi h. in the bargain.

llnyou do it?"
" owiy saintsi but sir. the young leddy isn‘t here
no lo r. I tuk pit on the poor crater. an” let her
out wi her dead he. in her arrums. an‘ sent her to
Pat Maloney‘s." I

“Hal is that so? Then. Bridget. you‘re a ‘sohd
woman.‘ Here‘s a. V for you. and now give me a
note tothis Pat Maloney to surrender the girl to me.
for I am a. detective in search of her."

“A detective!“ cried Bidd '. in wonderment.
“Then yez beno gas-mon. at al 1?"

“ Nary a gas-man. my beauty."

“ Ochl w’at fer divii's own imps the men are! An'
you want the ieddy?"

“ Certainly.“

“ Well. I‘m glad the poor crater hes got friends. I
am. Bhure s e‘s swater than gin w1d sugar. an'
twice as purty as a shamrock blossom. Pat Maloney
lives in Wather strate. No, —; jest tell him Biddv
O’Bha sent yez fer the leddy. an’ it'll be all ri ht."

“Al right Biddy. When you get married le me
know. and I n come and am my heel at yer wed-
dingl" replied the disguised ock Raymond. as he
bowed himself out.

"Ha! ha! that gas-bill nearly frightened the or
fool out of her wits!" he laughed. ashe trudged ack
toward his lod ngs. “ Now then. I must get on my
other tags. an go and ti id Celia. Poor girl! She
has seen trouble enough.“

He repaired to the tenement in Mulberry street.
first. and found Fooly Fred and Samuel Raynor

there.

“,W hat luck?" Fred demanded.

“0h. hosslucki Will have 'r all safe and sound
inside of an hour."

" That's i Fetch her around to George street.
No. —. an I’ll take her sister there. Mr. Raynor,
here, will also accompany me."

Then. after a short conversation. Dock went to his
room. on a neighborln street. and spent a couple
of hours in arrangin is toilet to his satisfaction.
after which he set on for Pat Maloney‘s. on Water

street.

‘Reachinz his destination, he found it to be a
dth . grimy sort of hovel. characteristic of the
locfiity. The sounds of drunken revelry in the ad-
joining dwellings jarred discordautly on the n' ht.

“ My name is Dock Raymond. I was dlrec here
by Bi dy O‘Shay. in search of Celia Orwick." Dock
said, as a grim. stubble-bearded face was presented
through a window.

Then the door was opened. and he was admitted
into an humble apartment. occupied by the owner

I :fflths bearded face. and an old crane. evidently his

a. The room was scantily furnished and ill-
wmng' r u 1 did '
ye cum or 16 ga. yez'!‘ ueried Pat
Malonoy. “ Well, ye ken have 'her. f‘tlir I've no
worruk. begorra. an' it’s moighty hard to get a crust
nowadays. Celia. gurl. be yez awake?"

In answer to the call. a pale. frauds-looking girl
came out of an adjmninr room. and as she ca ht
sight of Dock Raymond she sipan forward wit 1 a

' in the young detec-
tive s arms.

“ Obi Dock!" she exclaimed. “ is it really you?"

“Yes. Cele, you dear girl I have come for you
on are mine now—
knowell-everything. But come: let us go. I will
take you to a better place than this."

Doglgve Malo “berg fee legal}: “mime”.
then hasin some 8 ne ring 6 0 ‘
hand can so? forth into he night. p’

’ A heck was soon hailed. and inside of an hour the
were Isfelyset down in George street.“ before Evans s
house. where they found Charley. Sherry. Fred.
Nelly Orwiok and Fay in waiting for them.

 

CHAPTER XVII.
A HAPPY REUNION—CONCLUSION.

DEATH-FACE was somewhat startled. but not in the
least alarmed. as he behold the liceman. and felt
a heavy hand laid upon his shou der.

“ Now I‘ve got you!" the officer said. with a little
chuckle. “ Didn‘t expect‘to find cops this wet night,
did ou? Come along!"

“ ot if I know myself.“ Death-Face said. coolly.
“ Better find out who ou are arresting first. See
here," and he pulled t e officer toward the nearest
lamp. " I am Death-Face, the detective. Here is my
proof," and he displayed a handsome gold badge. on
which his name was engraved: “and now, instead
of arresting me. you must ve me a little aid. Do
you know the character of t int house?“

“ No. Respectable. ain't it?"

“In a virtuous sense. yes; but in other words. it
is a rivate mad-house."

“ he devil you say!"

“ Yes. a private mad-house, with fifteen or sixteen
girls in it—girls and women—-who are no more insane
than on or I."

“ P ewi how do you know this?"

“ By notes thrown from the window, first. and by
visiting the place in dis uise. last.“

“Georgei that is a, iscoveryl What were you
going to do, just now?“ ‘

“Was going for carriages. and then going to get
the rls out of the den."

“ n the upper story. eh?“

“ Yes. Can I depend upon you for assistance!"

" Certainly.”

“ I shall call u on you to make the arrest of this
old cuss—Heldle is name is—when I get around to
it. You procure four hacks. and fetch them around
the corner. while I at out the prisoners "

Then the officer urried off on his errand. while
Death-Face reascended the ropedadder. and crawled
back into the chamber, where the females were hud-
dled together.

“Oh. what is the matter?" demanded Amy Elwood
and Annie Boyce, together. “ We saw a man below.
and feared for (ion er."

“ No need of tha . my dears." was Conroy‘s reply.
with a smile. “That was a policeman. and he will
help us off. He has now gone for carriages. and we
must get out—

At this moment heavy footsteps were heard in the
entry. near the elevator-way, and a key was thrust
in the lock of the prison room.

“ Oh! ‘tis Mike. the jailer. coming!" whispered
Amy. turning white. “He hasheard noise. and is
coming to investigate!"

“ Oh! what shall we do?“ gasped Annie Boyce.
“ He will kill us."

“Just keep quiet l" exclaimed Death-Face, coolly.
“ and I’ll fix him."

He glided across the room and got behind the
door. and as the jailer entered. sprung upon him.
and dealt him a terrible blow on the forehead.
Down he went like a log. when Death-Face securely
bound and gagged him.

“There! one difficulty less!“ he said. with a grim
laugh. “ Now. ladies. if you will get. upon my back
one at n time. and hold fast. I will get you out 0
here. Amy. deer. you may try first. and set the rest
an example.“

It was rather an undignifled position for a young
infidey. laut as there was no help for it, Amy cheerfully
0 ye .

And Death-Face succeeded in placing her safely
upon the pavement.

Annie Boyce come next. and then the others. one
at a time, until all were safely out of their prison._
thanks be to Death-Face.

Without tarrying. the; hurried around the first
corner. and there foun Comton the $310110!!me
waiting with four hacks. ready for spa re. '

Death-Face ut Amy and Annie Bo ce into one cab
with three 0 the others who 11 no particular
homes. and then mounted with the driver. and gave

 

 

Death-Pace, the Detective.

r

orders to drive to number—George street, leaving
Co ton to see the remaining prisoners to their re-
spective homes.

The ride to George street was soon accomplished,
and Death-Face and his five companions were made
welcome into the little home of the Evanses, which
already had been the scene of a joyous reunion be-
tween Celia and Nelly Orwick.

Thus was the little circle as complete as it could
be made.

But a new sensation was there, when, with a yell.
Sherry sprung up, rushed over to the side of Annie
Boyce, and t rew his arms about her neck, giving
her a resounding kiss.

“Leo, my sister. as I livei" he cried. in delight.
“See here. Uncle Sam, this is she: I twig her jib.

su rflne.“

‘Sherryi Sherryi can this ossiny be you?“ re-
turned the astonished girl. ‘ I never should have
known you.“

“ But I knew you, bet your life on that!" he cried,
with enthusiasm. “See here." and he drew a le-
ture from his pocket; this is you, and you're t is.
I got it at the gaile where you worked. Hey,
Death-Face, ain't this Y“

“A ver enjoyable discovery indeed, I should
say." replied Conro , " but me finquire, Miss Ray-
nor how on come n the mad- ouse?"

“‘I‘hst s easily explained, sir,” replied Leo, in
answer to his request. "I was placed there two
years ago. As some of you may be acquainted with
my histo , I will say, that after leaving the gallery
I went to eep house fora. young man named Ned
St. Cloud, upon Twentieth street, in this city.

“While in his employ, I came into possession of
an important secret, longing to him and a man by
the name of Se mour."

“Clarence ymour, was it?" demanded Amy,
en erly.

‘ Yes, that was the name. I was goingto notify
the roper authorities. but sus cting my knowledge,
St. oud had me put in He dle‘s place, where for
two years I have remained. "

“And this secret? What was it about?" asked
Death-Face. e erly.

“ it was sbou their running a counterfeiting busi-
ness, and a plot to flood the country with urious
money. I found out where their ‘mlnt’wes ocated,
and will tell you!"

 

81

‘And then she named a certain lace within the
cit limits, the exact iocalit of wh ch we must with-
ho d from the reader. Su cc to so that it was inn.
place where it. might have rema nod a lifetime,
undiscovered, but for the information of Leo Ray-

1101‘.

The following day was a busy one with Death-Face
and 00.. for they had their hands full in making ar-
rests, which were necessary, now that the fruit was
rigs: and fit for pluckin .

rst of all. Dr. Hei e was arrested and delivered
up to the authorities: and next came St. Cloud and
Se mour. on various charges.
hen Death-Face and his two bowers, accompa-
nied by a posse of oliCe, madea raid upon the coun-
terfeit den of the 'ng, only succeeding in capturing
(tihti dies, presses. etc, and one man who was on
u y. .

 

This work safely accomplished, there was, one
evening, a great Wedding at the little-house in George
street, Sherry and Fay, Dock and Celia, Death-Face
and Amy and Fred and Nelly; being the happy
couples w o linked their fates together.

A week later. old Samuel Rn. nor started back for
Vir 'nia Cit . Nevada, and w th him went Sherry
an his daring Fay and Charley Evans and Leo,
Sizer 's sister, who has since then wedded.

An out there in Mineral-land they all still live. as
happy in their love as the day is long.

 

lie-idle, St. Cloud, and Seymour, received earl
trials for their crimes. and severe sentences. He -
die went to Sing-Sing for twenty years. and well he
deserved a longer sentence.

St. Cloud and Seymour were put to work side by
side in Sing-Sing—cnch for a term of ten years, only.
to serve a new term at the end of that time on new
indictments.

And if you want on detective business done, dear
reader you cannot r 0 better than call upon the
" Bil.r ree"—Conroy, Raymond and Funk, who
still hold forth in the metropolis, experts in their
profession,.and devoted husbands to those dear girls
whom they took for better, not [or worse.

And thus we take leave of them all, with our best
wishes forever. -

THE END.

 

 

 

 

 

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