\ \ m W\\\\\M\\\\m ‘ mmmww \~ A “himA « :x \. . wmflmlllllllllflll IIUI‘ IIHIUII \ ‘ . Copyrighted. 1885, by BEADLE AND ADAME. Entered at the P05! mm at New York, N, Y., as Second Clnsa Mail Mutter. May 6. 1885. $2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams 1’ 1, , V0].- VI- :1 Year. No, 93 WILLIAM ST" NEW YORK. ’ Flvercognts. N0. 69' DETECTIVE DICK: or, The Heroin Rags. BY CHARLES MORRIS, “AUTHOR OF “WILL SOMERS,” “PHIL HARDY,” “ PICAYUNE PETE,” ma, ETC. 8 Detective Dick. Detective Dick; THE HERO, IN BAGS. BY CHARLES MORRIS, AUTHOR or “WILL sounns," “run. many,” ETC. CHAPTER I. A WARM INTERVIEW. “LUCK? You kin bet your bottom dime on that. I‘ve had a. streak jist as his: as a. mounmin." “ Hold yer bosses a bit, Dick. Good luck can keep sweet till we're ready to use it. It’s bail liick_ihat goes sour. I never talk business on an empty pipe." The speaker—a. middle-age 1 man. with thick, grizzled whiskers, and a face as rough as u chestnut- burr—produced a handsome nr~erschaum from his pocket, and proceeded to charge it with tobacco. Dick sat, with a. grim smile on his young face, curiously watching this process. The pipe lit, his companion took two or three long whifls, sendin the smoke curling through the air, his face full 0 deep satisfaction. “There. That’s what I call comfort,” he said. “Now Dick, you can unload.” “ Ain’t in no hurry ‘bout that," mi 1 Dick. grimly. “ Guess my luck '1! keep sweet 9. while longer.” “What do you mean, you blowcd young rag doc— tor?" growled the man. > “ Somehow I c an‘t never talk bizness till I've had apuft," answered the boy. deliberately roducin': from somew new in his odd apparel 8. ha. f-smoked cicvtr. "S’pose you favor your uncle wish a light.“ The man looke'l half-angry for a moment; then, with a. short laugh, he handed Dick his pipe. Dick pr vce'ided with gre it nonchalancc, to light his stump of a. cigar, and while doing so it will be a good time to introduce him to the reader. He was a short. well-set bw. of apparently some Sixteen veers of age though there was (he worldl ' wisdom of a. man in his not overly clean face. Dic < laid no claims to beauty of countenance, but he had all the keennes : of the genuine street boy. Hisdr s was a. conglomerate, s emineg made up of s’riy bits of cast-OE clothing, and long since worn into rags. “ ’ here." exclaimed Dick. handing hack the pipe. “ That's what [cull cmrfort." He put his heels 0.) the table, tilted back his chair to a dangerous uncle, and poured out smoke from his lips iill his head seemed enveloped in a cloud. “ Well. if you ain‘t a cool coon,” declared the man, with alook of some adm ration. "If he ain’t got the imp *rdeuce of Old Nick himsel , then I’ll rent , out my head for lodsings.” “Dunno who you‘d «it to rent sich an empty old place as that," was Dick‘s provoking retort. “ I‘ll set on you uftor awhile. and mash you, sure as my name‘s Ned Hogan," with a touch of spleen. “You’d best dry up while your skin‘s whole. There‘s enough of this slack now; let’s hear what you done. Did you see Harris?" “ I've got a ridick’lus whim that‘s the job 1 tool: in," and Dick fastened another button with great dignity. “ When you fln‘l Dick Darling go b'tck on his gobs you kin git out your mud-scrapers and scrd oh the riverbottom for him. I’m one of the kin‘l that kin bear death but not dis'zracn.” “ Ye‘r‘ a. blamed long-winded. short-haired, knock- knned. imperdent young son of a ship’s monkey." growled H ignn, wrathfull y. “And if you don't come to the point soon there’il be a death in the Darling fam‘lv, without the trouble of your drownd- in: yourself.” ’Ned Hogan raised his short, sturdy figure from his chair, and laid down his pipe, as if this were his first movement toward putting his threat into execution. r “Thank you. Don't keel-it I do, long as my Gon- cher’s smoked out,” said Dick, qfiietly pickinfiI up the pipe ani inserting it between is lips. " T ere allers was something ’bout a. ginuine meerschaum that i liked.” , He pufied away in seeming unconsciousness of the wrathful attitude of his companion. who stood as if overcome by this sublimiiy of impudencc. Finally, with a short, savage laugh, he sunk again into his chair. exclaiming: “ I’ll be shot if I don’t b’lieve that boy would stop to argy the pint if there was a pile-driver comin' down 091,1y his lead. Come, Dick, now, what did Har- ris say. “ 0:]! he wasted a. good many parts of speech tryin‘ to argyfy into me that boys’ tongues were only made for ornament; which. in course didn’t stand to mason, He guv me a latter. though, which I guess will come to the heel of it quicker nor [ kin.” Dick laid down the pine. which Hogan made haste to appropriate. Then followed a general unhutton- ing and diving into multifarious pockets, with which Dick's apparel swuuod pleutifullv supplied. A gen- eral assortment of boys‘ pocket merchandise adorn- ed one corner of the table as Dick emptied pocket after pocket in his search. “ Well. if it don’t beat hugs and butterflies!” he exclaimed. indignantly. “I know I sunk itin one of them pockets; on'i there ain‘t a pickpocket this side of Hong Kongcould tin l a. thing after it's once buried in my pockets. .Can’t find it myself half the time.“ Dick took off his hat to scratch his head for an idea to help him out of the difficulty, when out drop- ]faed the missing letter, falling on the floor at Hogan’s veil. Dick looked down on it with an odd contortion of countenance. “ I ll sell my pet cat, if there ain’t some sleivht-of- hand about this,” he protested, rucfully. l“I see‘d old Signor lilitz across the street. Bet he had a. hand in putciu’ that letter in my hat. Sich things don’t do theirseives. " Hogan paid little attention to the boy's mutter-jugs as he picked up the letter and tore it open, evidently anxious to learn its contents. Dick moved to the other side of the table. as if for defense attainst the gathering storm that showed it- sclf in Hogan‘s countenance, ani stood slyly eying the strongly-marked face of the man, as his eyes ran down the epistle. There were mutterings and gmmhline‘s as of,dis- taut thunder, as he continued to read. Finally. with a sudden outburst of wrath, he slapped the letter violently down upon the table. / “May I be cantankerously smashed into tin six- enccs. if this don‘t hike the biggest rag: on? the ittlcst bush tint ever I run across!” he ejaculated. “ Oh! if you ain‘t a genius for biznessl” shaking his fist at Dick. “ Lucky for you that the table’s be- tween us. if vou think anything of your bonus." " What’s wrong?” asked Dick, with childlike in- uocuucc of manner. " What‘s wrong?" echoed Hogm. loudly. Then, su’ldvnly lowering his voice, he asked: " Can you read ?" "Kin I read ?" repeated Dick, indignantly. ‘ I'd be a purty graduate of the No, 1 Keystone primary if I ha'ln‘t h’isted in that much eddlcation. Wonder if he takes me for a. fresh emigrant ‘2" “ Read that. then, and out loud. Iwunt to see how it strikes you." “ All 0. l(., uncle," assented Dick, confidently buttoningr up his coat till he looked like a trussed turkey. “ Don’t find me goin" back on literatoor." H", crammed his but down savagely on his head spread the sheet of paper before him, shut his right eve and scratched his loft car. as if these were neces- sarv preliminaries of dippin'r info literature. ” ‘ Filvirdelfy, April one eighteen hundred and—a. blot.’ ” began Dick. with slow and emphatic manner. L‘kWon'ler if it ain‘t an April-fool sell. Kinder looks ' c it.‘ " Go on," commanded Hogan, energetically. A: . r .919 A ‘ Detective Dick. / 3‘ “ ‘ Edward Hogan, Est}! What’s Esq?” “ Go on.” Dick was no great success as a reader of manu- script, and it was with many a tri and stumble over the big words, which stood ike tall stones in his way, that he made his slow journey down the rugged pathway of the letter. “ ‘ Business is bus-i—ness ’ (wonder if he thinks we want to be told that); ‘and what is worth doing at all is worth a man doing himself.’ (That ain’t good grammar. Should have said hisself)." . Hogan sat listening, with a smile of deep mean- in g. “ ‘ In what high-way or by-way of in-solence you picked u the boy you sent me I’d like to know. for don’t elieve such crooked crab-apples grow in every orchard.’ “Now who th dogs ever heard of a crooked crab~ apple?” deman ed Dick, looking up from the letter. Hogan made no answer but a grim smile. “ As for in-trust-ing an bus-i-ness of impor- tance (guess big words is so d cheap in his country) ‘ to such a. messenger. I would as soon put my hand in a hornets’ nest after honey.’ (That’s fun. Tried it myself once. Kinder ’preciate your feelings theme.” “B ow me if it ain’t like ouring water on a duck’s back," growled Hogan. “ was fool enough to think there was some shame in the boy.” Dick seated himself before proceeding. leaning back, with his heels on the table, to the greater eu- joymcnt of his literary task. “ ‘I asked him to tell me where you were living, and he asked me if I wanted to buy him for a donkey?’ (Bet he could been bought cheap jist then.) ‘Then I re» uest-cd to know his residence. and was informed that he lived at the corner of Goose and Spruce. next door to whale bone nlley.‘ " “ What did you tell him such stuff for?” “ Tweren‘t none of his hizncss where i lived. “ ‘I was next-informed,’ ” continued Dick, “ ‘that the city I lived in wasn’t fit for a respectable boot- black to emigrate to, and that it Would do first rate to set up in a corner of a Philadelphia square as a specimen of a one-horse village.’ “ I tell you that fetched little Harris,” Dick laugh— ed. as if the recollection was highly agreeable. ” He talked so big of the City of Chester, that I couldn’t help puttin‘ in a back-handed slap.” " You seem to have distinguished yourself pretty generally,” said Hogan. “ ‘ I suppose these are enough il—lus-tra-tions ’ (don’t reckernise the word) ‘ of his mode of conversa~ tion,’ " continued the reader. “ ‘ I was silly enough to let him go on for an hour.’ (Don’t know how you‘d stopped him). ‘I certainly shall not trust im- ‘, portant business to such amessenger. “You know where I live, and have not informed me where you live. Come down and see me yourself. Yours truly, “ ‘ H. WILSON HARRIs.’ “ Short and sweet; with oceans of my imperdence, and not a word of his own,” and Dick spoke in— dignantly. ‘ “ You‘re a high old messenger.” said Hogan, sour- ly. “‘Do you know anything else?” “Only that the schooner Lucy flung the hawser on Chester ier last night.” “ The evil!" cried Hogan. rising so suddenly as to overturn his chair. ” And he leaves the only hit of news worthla icayune to the last!” He rushed astin from the room, followed by an irritating laugh from Dick. CHAPTER II. THE smomo LESSON. Hosm's hasty journey was to the telegraph ofi‘ice. Arrived there. however, he was not so hasty in send- ing his message. but spent full twenty minutes. with the aid of a pocket-dictionary, and a. peculiarly cut piece of paste-board, in inditing it. The clerk looked at it curiously, and then up at Hogan. “ Want this sent just as it reads?” “ Sart’in. And maybe you’d better run it over to see if it’s writ out plain. Wouldn’t do to get one of them words wrong.” 1“ Wilson Harris, Chester, Penna," began the 0 er . “Chocolate, cows. corpulent, cucumbers, crimi< nal, carter, cake, can, combine, calico. “ CHARTER.” “All correct. Hope it won’t run to seed. Push her through. my friend. I expect an answer.” It was half an hour before the answer came. It was couched in the same cipher, which seemed to give Hogan more trouble to read than it had to write. “Let me see,” he muttered, " I told him to keep a spare eye for the Luc , and especially for the red- haired mate. “I ju go this to be: ‘I have been watchin , but have ‘seen nothing ’—-‘ cranberry,’ what’st at? Oh! ‘suspicious.’ ‘Seen nothing sus—' picious.’ ‘ Will keep my ’—-‘ curtain concert.’ What the blazes is that?” Hogan thumbed his book for several minutes, then ejaciillated: I, K i H ‘ yes 0 en —— ee in eyes open ope you will, Harris]? Wish I vpyas Sdown there myself, but I’ve (got to pay my compliments to our mutual frien , Harry Spencer." Hogan had long since left the telegraph oflice, and was making his way as rapidly as a street-car could carry him to an up—town localit . Arrived in front of a stylis row of houses on North Eleventh street he was met, as if by ure chance, by a plainly-dressed man, who had een lounging carelessly on the nearest corner. "What news?" was Hogan’s first remark to this individual. “All serene. The bird ,is caged yet. Wish to Heaven he’d show a wing.’ “You are too uneasy, Tom. I hope you haven’t sold, your business?” “Do you take me for a fool, Ned Hogan?” an- swered Tom, angrily. “I haven‘t been shadowing rascals for ten years not to know the first ropes yet.” “ Been an Signs?" “ A rusty— coking lad, that might have been atele< graph boy, wentin half an hour ago. He ain’t come out since. There was a very bright-faced iyoung lady. too, went in an hour ago. She left just efore you came.” “ Bet on your having an eye for the ladies, Tom,” laughedflogan. “You can slide now. I’ll take up the next watch." They walked carelessly on together Hogan fillin his favorite meerschaum. He took along. delights pufi? at it, and then said: “ Be on hand at six, if nothing turns up before. I’ll smoke him if he shows his nose.” Tom walked on, and Hogan turned on his heel, stationing himself in an indolent attitude against an awning-post, and smokingr diligently as his eyes restm ed on the houses before him. We will take the privilege of entering the (particu- lar house to which his attention was directe . From the parlor of this rather plainly-furnished residence, a half-hour or so before Hogan took up his watch, there came the tones of a remarkably sweet lady’s voice, accompanying the piano in what seemed more of an exercise than a song. There mingled with it now the ma y tones of a fine tenor voice, while more vigorous sounds came from the piano. ‘ The young lady whose voice is so full of birdvlike sweetness is a tall, beautiful girl, very stylishly dressed, a light-haired, blue-eyed witch, on whom the eyes of the gentleman are fixed in deep admira- 10". He is a very handsome fellow, and has about him that case and dignity of manner which seem to be the prerogative of culture. He is dressed rather plainly. but wears his clothes with an air that gives hem all the effect of styhshness. . “ That is well done—very well done," he says, ap‘ \ x 4 . Detective Dick. provingly. “ The range of your voice has increased within the last few weeks.” " Do you really think so?" she asked, pleased with his raise. . es; ou struck that upper. note clearly to-day. Last wee you could not sound it. I wish on to try this new song with me. It is a beautiful t ing, and will just suit your voice." “ ‘Love Waits,‘ " reading its title with a shrug of her shoulders. “Something sweetly sentimental, I suppose. What is love waiting for?’ "Heaven knows. If I were a lover, now, I could tell you what I would be waiting for." “ For a smile from the sweetest eyes under the sun,” she read, iookinz intently at the music. "Let me see them,” and laying his hand lightly on her arm, he peered earnestly into her face. “ Oh! no nonsense,“ she exclaimed. turning quick— ly away. “ You are a mere tease." Without a word he laid the music on the piano, and ran his hand softly over the air. “ Do you think you can catch it? It is easy." “Sing it yourself first. 1 want to hear the move ment." He sung with a great deal of feeling and ower, she listening with a charmed expression as t e rich tones of his voice filled the room with music. “ She is as winsome as the summer rose, Ah! false was he that painted love’s eyes blind; The stars are paled when those bright orbs unclose; Love waits no more when love‘s s )ft heart grows kind." He was silent for a moment. the echoes of his voice seeming still to fill the room with music. “Do you like the song?” he asked. quietly. “ Ohl indifferently," she answered. ” Will you try it now?" “Not now. thank you,“ cooll. . “The lesson is ended, then," shutting down the piano with almost a bang. l “ Which lesson ?“ was her innocent inquiry, as her bright eyes rested a moment on his face. “ The musicviesson,” he replied. rather curtly. “I was not aware that I was teaching any other lesson." “ Ahl true was he that painted love’s cyes blind," she sung, with a laughingr intonation. She seized her music and turned toward the door. He stood irrcsolutely, his face flushed, hia foot nervously tapping the door. “You shall not go till you have told me what you mean." he declared, suddenly taking her hind. “Why, you wished me to sing it a minute ago," with a quick glance. “I hope I caught the senti- ment properly.” “ But your paraphrase? Your change of my words?” , “Excuse me. That is one of the things no woman explains." withdrawing her hand resolutely from his grasp. “One moment. Helen; I have dared to think—I have dared to hope—" Yet he was not destined to finish his hesitating sentence. The door near which they stood suddenly o shed, and a boy, of the most unmitigated boyis ness. stepped s'iucily into the room. It was no other than ragged, independent Dick Darling. ‘ Scuse me," he said, with a meaning glance from one to the other of the pair upon whom he had in. truderl. “S’pose, maybe, if I was to call ng‘in, it mought be more agreeable. I’ll retire to a sofy in the parlor til] _ ou git through." “Stay. ere you are, you wicked young rascal,“ /cried Mr. Spencer. laughing in spite of his chagrin. “ Shall I see you to the door, Miss Andrews?" “Don‘t you mind me," suggested Dick, reassur- in ly. “I never peach, no matter what signs I see." hfife seatedhimself on the piano-stool as they left t 6 room. " I’ll be shot if they wasn’t makin love! I swow, if I ever see‘d sioh funl" a broad am a breaking over his face. as he brought his hand down for an em- phatic slap upon his knee. It fell, however, on the bank of keys of the piano, yieldin such a clash of sound that the boy made a startle movement backward. The result was an overturning of the piano-stool. and a helpless rolling of Dick over and over upon the carpet, “ I wonder what blamed kind of a nitro-glycerine he keeps in that mahogany boxl" he muttered, as he cautiously picked himself up. Dick eyed it askance, as if not quite satisfied with its proximity. “ There he goes. In mischief before he is in the house five minutes," declared Mr. Spencer, as he paused near the front door. “ Who is he?" asked Miss Andrews. “ 011! a oung gentleman who has deigned to take me under is care, and who calls on me at the most inconvenient moments—rags and all."" “ He is rugged enough,“ she admitted, with a shrug. “ But I am intruding on your time.” Her voice was lowered in tone, as she stood a mo- ment, her hand on the door knob, as if hesitating to open. . " When shall I see you again?” he asked.’ “0hl this day week, I presume: if nothing hap- pens. Good-day,” and she tripped hastily into the street. His face had a very happy look, as he turned back from the door. When he entered the room Dick was standing in the middle of the floor looking defiantly at the of- fending piano. “What do you call that critter?” he asked, point- ing to the instrument. ‘That‘s a piano,” “ Oh! that s a pianer. is it? Does it often go off?“ “It is a little dangerous to boys, sometimes," ad- mitted Mr. Spencer. “ Now, what do you want? I have no time to spare." “ Come here to-day to tell you your fortune." _ “I guess I will excuse you that duty, then," with a smile. " I have no fortune to tell." h “ glare than you think, maybe. Give me your an . Mr. Spencer extended his hand to the boy, who took it in his own soiled palm. “The lines don‘t come out clear."he muttered, after poring over it. “Maybe you‘d best cross it with Silver." Mr. Spencer laid a piece of silver in hiso en palm. “ That helps it amazingly,” said Dick as e uletly ocketed the coin. “Tell on what, there 3 fun lore; and there’s danger. T is line leads to trouble. There’s a. red-headed man in it. Best keep clear of red-headed men for the next month." " Quick. boy; get done with this nonsense l" “ lhere’s no nonsense in it." protested Dick. sturd- ily. poring more closely over the hand. “ You were going to Chester to-day ?“ “ flow under the sun did you guess that?” asked Mr. Spencer. in surprise. “ It‘s all here,” declared Dick. slyly. “When. .7011 go there keep clear of a red-headed man. If Slch ‘a one wants to talk to you jist knock him down or vamose. There‘s a plot here." “ This is some rascally nonsense." averred Mr. Spencer, drawing away his hand. “What do you mean by it all?" “Don‘t you go to Chester. That‘s what I mean." “I do not think I will give up my journey on ac- count of your fortune-telling." “ There‘s danger. I tell you," spoke out Dick. ear- nestly. " There’s a red-headed man there. mate of the schooner Lucy. You must keep clear of him. If such a chap wants to speak to you don’t give him no closer quarters than you would a ’skeeter." “What is it, Dick? What do you know?" demand- ed Mr. Spencer, impressed with the boy‘s earnest manner. , “ Don’t know half what I’d like to," answered DetectiVe Dick. I 5 Dick. “ Only know that the devil’s got his foot loose. and got his eye on you." “ You are a strange customer. I shall beware of the red-heads. If you have no more business, Dick, my time is limited." " All right!” said Dick, going to the front window, and looking into the street. “ Is there an easy back way out of your house?” “Yes. Why?” “ ’Cause there’s eyes in the front niusn‘t see me, that’s all. Do you know that this palatial mansion is shaddered Y" What is that?” “ Shadowedl “ Watched,” explained Dick. mysterious] . “There’s eyes on you that you won‘t easy fling o . Can’t tell no more, but jist you beware.” In a few minutes more Dick was threading his way through back alleys. out of that nei hborhood in a very short time after, Mr. pencer left the house. and walked quickly down the street. He cast a sharp glance around, but saw nothing more suspicious than a thick-set man leaning against a post and smoking a meerschaum. CHAPTER III. DICK cons I.\’1‘0 BUSINESS. Two gentlemen were seated in earnest conversa- tion near the front window of a hotel room over- , looking Arch street, Philadelphia. One of them, a large, full-faced man. sat with his feet on the Window-sill, in a remarkably easy arr titude. The other was a. small. delicately-framed man. who seemed to be greatly annoyed by some circumstance. “Do you know, my dear boy, that we have so far been bamboozled? That's iust the word for it— bamboozled," remarked the arge man. “ A new ten-dollar issue on the market. The Paw- kusset bank. lt‘s deuced provoking.” declared the small man. “ And after six months’ work we haven’t the shadow of a clow.” “Oh! it will come. It will come,” protested the other. “ We have set things working, you know.” “ I have never been so long in the dark in any case Iever took on in my life," said the testy gentleman. "And we are looked to, to do something. Here is a gang of counterfeiters flooding the country with had money under the very nose of the Government detectives. And it is no bungling work. I tell you. They are first—rate mechanics, and the keenest fellows I ever saw at hiding their trail. They are just shaming the whole Secret Service.” “Every dog has his day," declared the other, in his easy manner. “ Let them alone. We have made ourselves too visible. We had better get back into the shadow and hide our hand. It sometimes pays to take to earth and only use your eyes." “ Yes. and let Pinkerton‘s men step in and take the ame out of our bag." was the impatient reply. “I know they have scouts out. How would it sound to say that Will Frazer and Jack Bounce, the noted Secret Service officers. worked for half a year on a blind trail and then let themselves be pinked by Pin- kerton. I sir uldn't like to see that in print." “Well. Jack Bounce. for one. don’t care a fig," 're lied the large man. indolently shifting his feet. “ f it comes lo a free race between the detectives, the devil take the hindmosr, that’s my rogramme.” “ You are are lar philosopher. Jae " confessed his comrade. “ don’t know. though. that it makes you any worse at your business. I don’t know when was ever more ashamed of myself than about something that happened to-day.” “ Ahl Let‘s hear it?” asked Jack. “Do you know that I was accosted by an impu- dent young rascal in full street uniform—a caster: coat and rags for breeches. He had my name par, and my vocation, too, it seems. He had smelt our business here, and was gomg to put us on some wonderful track for only ten dollars. I was more inclined to give the young villain ten kicks. I never knew before that l carriedmy business in my face.” Before he ot half-wa through, Jack Bounce‘s feet were on t e floor, an be was eying his comrade steadily. “I didn’t know that you valued ten dollars so highxlzyn. ‘ ou know it wasn’t the dollars.“ “ It looks devilish like it," was the vexed response. “ You were out of temper. Will. or you wouldn‘t EaveJet that boy off so easily. I should like to see 1m. Will‘s reply was a sudden leap to his feet and rush to the window. “ There he is now I" he cried. “ And sees ou.” added Jack. “See, he is coming into the beta . He has not given it up yet.“ A few minutes passrd in silent waiting. Then came aloud knock at the door. " Come in!” he cried. resumin his easy attitude. The door opened and in walke Dick Darling. “ Morning. gentlemen 1” “Come here. boy. and let’s have a good look at you," called out Jack. “What is your name?” “ Dick Darling, or Darling Dick. I’m called both wa s “ And what are you after, to-day?“ Dick helped himself to a chair, and then an- swered: “ I’m arter that sot of counterfeiters that’s mak- ing things how] in the mono market. and that’s laughin’ in their sleeves at inkerton’s and the Secret Service.” “ What do you know about it?" asked Bounce, his feet falling to the floorin his surprise. “I know that Will Frazer and Jack Bounce, two of Uncle Sam’s best men. have been smellin’ ‘round for months, and haven‘t found a bad egg in the basket et. 1 know that Ned Ho~an and his pals think t ey’ve got a scent, which won‘t work up worth a dime. And, finerly, I‘ve got a stupid notion in my head that I see an openin’ into the den of rascals." “ Ahl and what is your opening?" ‘ « “I wish you’d take a close look at my eyes, Mr. Jack Bounce, and see the color of them. If you can find any green there. then buy me chca . that‘s all." "What do you think of this fellow, ill?” asked Bounce. turning to his companion. " I think he will never die from impudence strik- ing in.” Will answered. “ Maybe you and me can cry quits.” retorted Dick, defiantly. “You took me for a sell yesterday; but you sold vourself. Now I’ll give Mr Bounce I: .i chance. If he don’t take—why. me and Ned Hogan knows one another; that's a word to the wise." “What do you want», Dick?” asked Bounce, in a tone of amusement. “ I want ten dollars now, to begin on. And I want to be let alone. Them's two things. I won’tpromise that’ll be In last draw. It takes;rhino to push these jobs throu .” " And w at is our security for our ten dollars?” “ My face,” looking Jack squarely in the eye. “ If you can‘t see ten dollars wu’th of honesty there, then we’ll cr quits." Dick rose rom his chair and began buttoning his coat. his habitual action when he meant business. “Of course it‘ll be sheer and sheer alike. in re- wards, profits, and sich.“ he added, pausing a mo- ment. "Do you take? If you do, fork over the nee'czful. If you don’t, why,:don‘t belong about say- in l ." “ Strictly to the oint, Dick, eh ’2" said Jack, laugh- ing. “ Come. my ad, I shouldn’t wonder if you did smell a rat somewhere. Guess I won’t mind risking a ten on your personal security." He took a bank-note from his pocketbook, and handed it to the boy in his easy. careless manner. Dick examined it with the e e of a connoisseur. “ Well, do you think it croo ed, eh?" " Thought maybe it might be one of the new edition.” said Dick, honestly. “ I don’t trust detec- tives too for.” \ily stri ping 011! the coat. . 6 Detective Dick. Jack Bounce laughed heartily with an amusement which was not shared by his companion “ You monght lose your cash." added Jack. “ I‘ve onl got a pin-hole to See through. so far, but I’ve a notion that I can see a mighty long ways through it- and a thunderin' pile of rascality at the end. I’ll telegraph when I want your help.” With a dignity that would have done him credit in a stage tragedy, Dick stalked from the room, not deigning a glance behind. ‘ CHAPTER IV. THE SELLER sow. THE ho had designs on the ten-dollar bill which had bar 1y been contemplated by the giver. His next appearance is in a South street second-hand clothing establishment. surrounded by a lentiful array of “old clo‘ ” which had experience regene- ‘ ration, so far as their sins of the body would admit. The proprietor,a cadaverous-looking gentleman, whose welldiooked nose seemed the larger portion of him, came bustling forward to where Dick had planted himself firmly on his sturdy legs. and was surveying the stock in trade with the eye of a critic. “ What can I do for my young friend today?" asked the Storekeeper. “ Got any cutaways and sich i" asked Dick. “I‘ve got a beautiful assortment here," the Jew declared, ea erly. “I know 1 can {it you out and make a regu or little gentleman or you. What shall I show you?” “ Give us a squint at that short-tailed beaver,” The dealer brought down the coatindicated, hand- lin': it with alook of intense admiration. Dick put on the coat which was the very reverse of the one he usually woro. The tails reached but lit- tle beyond his waist. and it looked like a roundabout which had undergone a partial process of develop- ment in to a frock coat. “Come here. This way. To tho glass." suggestod the J ow, hustling Dick eagerly before a very small square of mirror. “ Mought pass it the price was ngree‘ble. What’s the lunzieri’" “ hat coat on ht to bring not a penny less than ten dollars, and og-cheap at that, for such a piece of cloth.” “Cheap at thatch? What rice mought it be door at?" aski-d Dick, sarcastica 1y. The Jew held up his hand with a sickly smile. " Well, ii‘he ain't a droll one!" he exclaimed. “ Take a squint at that bit of broadcloth. Solo- mon," and Dick picked up his own old coat. “ Jest look at that elegant garment. Observe the button- holes, and the nap. Git your optical organs on the style. See here. Sol. I'll make a trade with you. What‘ll you give to boot?" “ What! for that dilapidated old—" “ Don’t run that coat down now. It’s stuck by me through sun and rain. You mought be glad to git a faithful old piece of broadcloth like mm. It only wants some scourin‘, and a stitch or two.” Th? Jew examined it all over with the eye of an arr’is . “Give me five dollars and I’ll trade," he said, at length. " Here you are, Sol," and Dick pulled out atwo- dollar bill. “ Say the word 011 the nail, uick as greased lightnin’. Got biz on hand, and can t stand palavering with you." ~ “ Four dollars. And that’s a great fall,” responded the J cw. decidedly. . “ Here‘s your old antiquity then," cried Dick hast- " Hand over my Japanese broadc 0th.” “‘Make it three," conceded the Jew, as he saw Dick walking briskly to the door. “Two. And that’s the last word," responded Dick decidedlya as he emerged into the street. "dome back, ' groaned the Jew. “ I can‘t bear to see you leave such an elegant fit behind you. But, I'll be mined entirely it I make many such sales.” “ Oh, fies! you are a generous-hearted old cuss," and Die resumed the coat, and passed over his two dollars. “The city ought to make up your losses. You're a charitable old beat, you are." And with a. smile of contempt Dick left the store, proud at heart of his new attire. “ Well, if I ain‘t done the Jew. Didn’t think old Solomon would bite at such a gudgeon as that. It‘s enough to make a chap feel proud he’s a human, to sell that skinny old penny-squeezer. I feel jist one foot hiuher.” And laughing repeatedly to himself at thou ht of his great bargain, Dick progressed throng the classic precincts of South street, entering store after store, and ~ticking up new cheap articles of apparel at r1" ‘ ' , prices, until he emerged like a butterfly in spi. , array, and minus five dollars in pocket. “ (mess I'm gay and lively now. Fine feathers make fine birds." Dick took his way to the vicinity of alarge sta- tionery establishment on Chestnut street above Eighth. Here he was seized with a desperate attack of lounging. and s )ent several hours with no other apparent purpose 1: an to display himsolt in his new splrjgig suit to the fashionable denizens of that lo- ca 1 v. Yet it might have been noticed that he paid his re-, gards to the store in question so close] that note. soul entered it without passing under t to ordeal of his eyes. Not until the store closed for the night did Dick erase his task of espionage. The next morning found him on his post again and though hour after hour passed he never strayed beyotnd easy eye-shot of the paper-selling establish- men . Yet Dick was not without his sources of entertain- ment. One of those was th ‘ pulling of a torn envel- ope from his pocket, and looking through the paper toward the sun. Ht: always returned it to his pocket with the re- mnr ': “There‘s riches in that. That bit of paper is my end of the trail. Wish my chap would come. It‘s past (linuentime. and I’m gettin’ holler.” His wish was speedily gratified by the entrance of a person to the stationery-store whose appearance trove Dick a sudden start. in a minute more he was across the street and had entered the store behind this {persom a tall, handsome, well-dressed man. " ave you the paper ready which I ordered last week?" he asked. of the proprietor. _ “ Yes. sir," replied the latter, proceeding to get it, while his customer (fiietly waited. ” Is it the Gordon ills paper, as I ordered 1'" “ Certainly. sir. You may see the water-mark," holding upa sheet before his eyes. Df'IZVhat will you have?” asked a salesman of 1c . “Got any nice note—paper, with double D. for a monygram l" "I can let you have it with D.” ' t. “i want double D. or nothing," said Dick, possi- 1ve . “chan have it made for you." “ Can’t wait. The ’stablisbments I deal with all keep double D‘s. Didn’t i- now this was a one-horse retail concern, or wouldn’t paternized you," said Dick. walking out with great dignity. . The gentleman with his rackage of paper had 1351? left the store. and Dick kept his eyes intently on 1m as he followed him rather closely. Passing up Chestnut street he came, near Tenth street, face to face with Miss Andrews, whom Dick at once recognized as the pupil in the singing—lesson he had interrupted. , The gentleman nodded familiarly to her as he gassed. a fact of which Dick made a mental note as e continued his close pursuit. The line of pursuit soon left Chestnut street, and followed less frequented streets in an up-town direc- lion. The gentleman walked along in an easy, careless _ ‘ Detective Dick. ' i 7 manner, occasionally Reusing to glance in a window, or casting a. quick loo ‘behind him. He turned at length into an unoccupied by-street, , through which he. more slowly proceeded. ‘\ Near the further end of the street he entered a narrow alley, Dick hurrying up lest he should lose sight of his prey. What was his astonishment, however. on arriving opposite the ulleg. to find himself in a tight grasp, andfithe face of t 9 gentleman looking sternly down on m. ‘ “You young villain! You’ve followed me now from Chestnut street. If I am not mistaken, you were in the store where I got my paper. What you are after the Lord only knows. but if I catch your dirty face at my heels a square further I’ll leave you in a condition to be carried home on a shutter.” And loosing Dick with acontemptuous shove, the gentleman walked on. “ Look here. mister,” called Dick. after hiin. “ how many of the strvets ’bout these diggin‘s mought you own? Seems somehow :1 felier’s got to ask you what strl-ets he kin yo thr ugh.” The gentleman walked on, without answering this home-thrust. “Bet I had him there," thought Dick. “ That’s as fioodascllasl got on old Sol. Wonder what rcnt e’d take for a foot or so of pavement.” The joke seemed so gond that he broke. into a laugh, slapping his knee heartin in its enjoyment. A most unexpected result occurred. A sound of ripping cloth was heard, and 1he new coat split in the back from shoulder to waist. It was a most rueful face that Dick wore when he put his hand back and discovered the nature and ex- tent of the accident. ’ " I‘ll be fizzled for a. salt mackerel if old Sol didn‘t sell me, after all!” he 03‘ aculated. “ Guess I‘d best so back, like a blamed young fool, and trade even up for my old ulster.” Recollection of his pursuit returning. Dick looked up uickly. The gentleman had disappeared. He ran asrily to the next corner. In vain; there was no such person anywhere in sight. CHAPTER V. was. RED‘HAIRED S1‘R.\NGER. To Harry Spencer, whom we Iel’t on the verge of his trip to Chester, on an errand which we have so for 1 his vaguely outl lied, the mysterious communi- cation of Dick Darling had not been without its eflr'cts. despite his seeming disregard of it. His acquaintance with this young gentleman had been rather romantic in its character. and one cal— culated to give him confidence in Dick’s good inlen- tions. It had commenced by his saving the boy from a severe drubbing with which Dick was threatncd by some of his associates. Dick was just then spoiling for a. fight. and had stirred up a stale of nclive war among his companions from which he seemed likely to emerge badly defeated. Harry Spencer had witnessed this nffra —and taken such aclive part in it as to rescue Dic ’ from his assailants, with no deeper wounds than It black eye and a bleeding nose. This assistance the boy had construed into an alliance. offensive and defun- sive, and he had since done his new friend more than one service from a sheer sense of gratitude. “The be is shrewdncss itself." Harry mused. as he sat in t 6 car of the railroad leading soulh from Philadelphia. “ This stuff of the fortune telling is onl one of his oddities. He knows something which he does not wish to divulge. and takes this ridiculous way of warningr me of some danger. As to my house being watched. Ihat 1 can hardly be lieve. I certainly saw no one but acommon-l oking man clouding himselfin the smoke of a huge pipe. I hardly fancy that he had any ulterior (l98i’1ns." Yet this common-looking man, With that innocent pipe in his pocket, was at this moment in the same car with his unconscious prey. He took a. letter from his pocket and read it carefully, replacing it again With an air 0! much satisfaction. This action was imitated by Harry Spencer. who also producer] a letter. which he pored over intent- ly. his face ox ressive of great uncertainty. ‘ He read the etter over again, carefully consider- ing every word. “ If you would hear of something very greatly to ' your advantage,” he read, “you will he in the cit of Chester at three o‘clock in the afternoon of April 10th. You will find the writer of this in Morgan’s restaurant at that hour, seated at a. side table. Ad— dress the person with a green sprig in his button- hole. Don t fail, if you value wealth and honor. “ Your. F‘Rmsn.“ “ Iv he my friend?" asked Harry, dubiously. “It would be no new event for a wolf to wear sheep’s clothing. I must bear myself very discreetly in this business." He saw now reason for doubt on his arrival at the do wt in Cht‘ste'l‘. ‘ 2 took his way leisurely down the main rtreet of the town. examining with a curious eye the obvious strife hetwern antiquity and the modern spirit of iunm'aiion which i ere plainly displayed itself. Turning into James street. he soon saw the sign he had been looking for, " Morgan's Restaurant." glaring in great gilt letters above the front of a. rather narrow store. . Harry paused a moment irresolute-ly at the door, gazing abscnll up the street. ln the distance he caught sight 0 a l hick sot man, whovaguely n-mind- ed him of the man of tlwepipe. This erson had just reached the main street. into which 9 turned. “Another false alarm.” thou ht Harry, smiling. “I wish Dick had not put snci nonsense into my head. I will be seeing something suspicious in my own shadow next. Well, here goes. The quickest nay to get over the fear of cold water is to plunge in. He opened the restaurant door and entered. A glance showed him the state of affairs within. It was a narrow, long room containing some doznn of tables, three or four of which only were occupied. Avoiding any attention to these persons Harry gave an order for some slight refreshment, and seated ’ himself at. a table near the front, looking down the room. lie snt idly playing with a spoon, and carelessly eying the persons present. Two of these were ap- parently a. young man and his sweetheart. who were enjoying their ice-cream as if luxury was just then a. far more substantial thing than love. There was one other person present, in the lower end of the room, who was quietly enjoying a sub- stantial plate of roast beef, and whose eyeshad been fixed on Harry evm- since his entrance. 5 He was short. slightly built, and with a thin, light- complcxioned face, lit UP by keen gray e es. There were two main portion ars, however, w ll h Harry chiefly saw in him. One of these was a green leaf at the In.va of his onat. The other was a plentiful display of hair of a decided reddish tinge. Harry gave 0. slight involuntary start at this dis— covery. the warning of his queer young friend re- turnng to him with convincing force, “Dick knew more than he would reveal." he thought. as he bent his eyes resolutely on his plate. “There is certainly something wrong. I shall have nothing to v’o with this man.“ His mind thus made up he quickly rose. and pay- ing for what he had ordered, left the saloon. Yet he had not taken ten steps outside before he was accosted by a. strange voice. “ Excuse. me. Mr. Spencer.” was the remark thus hcagd’. “May I haves minute’s conversation with you He turned to behold the Jed-haired man of the saloon. Detective Dick. “ I do not know where you learned my name. sir," he coldly replied. “ You are a stranger to me." “I know more of you than you are aware." re- turned the stranger, politely. " My object in. this interview is entirely yourown advantage, not mine.” “I wish no advantage from you, sir,” said Harry, walking on decidedly. “Nor do I care to prolong this conversation.” The stranger gave a quick glance backward. Not ten feet behind them was visible the form of Harry’s persistent pursuer, who was lounging along as if the shop-windows were his only aim in life. A queer smile came upon the spare face of the man. as he again said: . “ Su pose I desire to tell you something about that w ich has been the great aim of your hfe? Sup- pose I know something concerning that strange myster of your parentage? Would my communi- cation e then of no interest to you?” Harry turned sharply upon him. “ What do you know about it?“ he demanded. “You are entirely too energetic. my dear sir," re- plied the other. “i know much more than you im- agine. "And what is your object in appointing this inter- view? If you have such information, what do you expect to make by it?" ‘ Of course if I should assist you to wealth. for in- stance, I should expect to be remembered.” said the man, smiling. “ I never did anything for pure love. Certainly ten minutes’ talk with me won’t hurt you. Step here into Price’s for ten minutes only." Harry followed. It was nearer a half-hour than ten minutes when he emerged into the street. leaving the red-haired man behind him. The first erson he saw there was no other than the man 0 the meerschaum, who seemed deeply interested in the movements of a fish-woman. The man aid no seeming attention to him. He waited unti Harry had got some distance up the street. and then turned and entered the hotel. looking sharply around. he soon caught sight of the red-haired man who was seated at atable. uiet- ly sipping; glass 0 ale. and examining some case papers. e looked up with an odd expression at the entrance of Nod Hogan. for it was really he. But the stranger paid no further attention to him. Hogan stood undecided for a minute. thnn called for and drank a glass of liquor. and left the saloon without speaking to the Stranger. “Guess I’d best not break the ice till it's froze harder." he musod. “Harry Spencer's nailed if I ain’t badly sold. I must see Harris." He soon turned from the street into an offloe that had for sign: “ H. WILSON HARRIS. Attorney-at-Zaw." The occupant. a short. dapper personage. glanced up at Hogan with a look of recognition. “I have been expecting you. Take a chair." “Anything new turned up?" asked Hogan. as he threw himself into a chair. “ How about the Lucy and the red-haired mate ?" “ He is living very quietly at Price‘s. He seems to have no business and to know nobody. His time is spent in lounging about the town.” “ And the Lucy? Anything mysterious about her? Any sort of cargo landed?" " Nothing. She lay quietly at the wharf for a day 01- two. She has been gone-“ “Gone! The deuce!“ exclaimed Hogan. “ No. the Lucy.” quietly replied Harris. “ Where did she go?" “She slipped out between two suns. knows when or where." “ What kind of a vessel was this Lucy?" “ a, one-masted vessel. Not very large, or very new. “An old sloop. And that’s all you know about her? You’ve got a better eye for a law-paper than avessel. Mr. Harris. I bet I‘ll find some old river salt on the pier who will tell me all about her." Nobody “That may be,” admitted Harris. as Hogan rose to go. “ Look for old Mr. Pike. He sees everything down that way." _ Hogan made his way quickly to the main wharf of the town. on whose verge stood the old Steamboat tavern, a revolutionary relic of the ast. _ 0n the orch of this edifice stoo a tall, straight, grizzled o d man with his eyes fixed on the river. ‘ “ How is m o (1 friend, Pike?" asked Hogan, vig- orously clasp ng his hand. " Anythin new stirring hereabouts? Any new craft in. or the 'ke?" “Nothing but a sloop that crept in a day or two ago and crept out ag'in last night." “ What kind of 9. looking craft?" “ A very rakish build. Very low down amidships." Painted black, with a rod streak. Carried a heavy show of canvas. Should say she was built for a yacht, and has grown old in service.” “ Did she land anything?" . “ I did hear of some things being taken off of her at midnight. Joe Bower happened to be prowling around. What’s the matter? Anything wrong?" " No. Which way did she go?” “U the river." “T iank you. Mr. Pike.” After a few words more of desultory conversa- tion. Hogan left the old river-dog and made his way back into the town. __ CHAPTER VI. HELEN ANnnEws’s 'rwo VISITORS. IT was with great amusement that Harry S encer beheld a spectacle which the reader has a ready seen. It was no other than that of a half-grown bov who closely resembled a locust in the act of shed- ding its skin. For his short. tight coat was split down the back, from shoulder to waist. the gaping wound revealing a Blentiful display of dingy shirt. _ ick Darlin , for it was he, turned With a rueful face that brig toned somewhat on seeing Harry. “ Why, what under the sun has happened?" asked the latter. laughing. “Is my coat torn?” Dick asked, as if he had just discovered something wrong. . “ Badly demoralized. Dick. But where did on get such a s ruce rig? I never saw you dresse much like a andy before." “ It’s a bran-new suit," protested Dick. with some pride. “Bought it from Sol Sly. a South-streeter. Reckon he thinks he‘s sold me as well as the coat. Shouldn’t wonder if I’d pay my ’spects ag’in to that individual. Got a pin ‘3” . ‘ Dick had off the obnoxious coat and was SterInE to pin together the gaping seam. Herr supplied him with a pin or two more. with the ai_ of which he drew tone her the greater part of the rip. “ Bet I‘ll square with old Sol for this.” he declared as be carefully introduced himself again mto the dubious garment. “If I don't. sell me fora fried oyster. But, there’s somethin‘ I want you to tell “ All right. Let me hear what it is." I “ I Show you recollect a sort of ‘good-lookin young gal that takes singin' lessons from a Mr. Spencer that I know?" “Suppose I do? What then?” . “ Onlv I’ve got some private bizness With that angel. that's all. Want to know where she lives. ‘ What business can you have with her?" “ Ohl private. ’Tain’t none of yourn. Don't cal. culate to mention your name.“ “Iam afraid the young lady may not thank me for sending her Dick Darling as a visitor.” “ Don‘t you worry your cranium ‘bout that." “ Well. here are her directions.” and Harry wrote, down an address on a card. I can’t imagine what business you can have with her.” . “ Your ’mogination ain’t very profuse. Didn’t take my wamin'. Went to Chester and see‘d the. red-haired man. spite of all. a . i Detective Dick. 9 ‘ “How under heaven can you know that?" de- manded H any, in great surprise. "Know more than that.” confessed Dick, turning on his heel to leave. “Hope it won‘t git you into trouble, but I’m nfeard it Will.” Dick walked awa after delivering this oracular sentence, but turne to add: “Jist you keep your eye skinned, Mr. Spencer. Ther’ll be the devil to pay if you ain't sharp as a new razor. Can't say no more.” Harry stood for minutes in deep wonder as to what lay behind all thi : mysterious warning. We will precede Dick in iis visit to the young lady whose directions he had thus obtained. Miss Andrews lived in aflno mansion on Spruce street—the residence of her father, a prosperous merchant. \ Dick had been preceded in another manner, un- dreamed of by him. For the gentleman who was so earnestly conversing with Miss Andrews in the par- lor was no other than he whom the boy had lately followed. and in pursuit of whom he had been so si nally discomfited. r. Andrew Williamson, the gentleman in ques- tion, was a tall, rather stout person. handsome in face, a full brown mustache shading his well-formed mouth while his eyes were small, dark and some- what shifting in expression. He stood grasping a chair with a hand that closed on the wood as if it would crush it. Opposite him Miss Andrews sat easily on a. sofa, a «little tinge of amusement on her face. L with a darkening look upon his face. “ Now do be seated, Mr. Williamson,” she in'isted. “ You will certainly hurt my poor chair if you close your fingers upon it in that energetic fashion.” “Anddvou did not mean a word you have said?” he aske . releasing the chair he had been uncon- sciously grasping. “ It is only some of yourhumor?” “ My humor!” she replied, holding up her hands in afiected horror. “ That is the first time I have been accused of anything so unfashionable.” “You are diSposed to be witty. at my expense.” " But enough of this. Will ou lease explain which of us, I or the musicvteac er, is the one whom you are pleased to flirt with?” His tone showed that he was too indignant to con- sideg how far he might be injuring himself by these wor s. “I hardly think that Mr. Spencer will ever have reason to accuse me of flirtation," she replied, with a fierce glance at the speaker. “Do you know who Harry Spencer is?” he de- manded. growin cool as she grew excited. “ I know that e is a gentleman." “There is something besides polite behavior re- quired to make a gentleman.” “ As what, for instance?" “ As birth, for instance.” “Ohl Then he is of no family?" “ It would be difficult for him totell. If you should like to know, just ask him who was his father.” She seated herself, or, father, dropped into a chair,» looking up at him with scared eyes. “ Will you be kind enough to change the subject?" with a flush of crimson on her cheek. “ If on will but let me return to our former sub- ject? f I have not ofl'ended you too deeply.“ "Perhaps you had best not recall your offenses,” she answered. with flashing eyes. “ Now you are angry. Helen. I am sorry, indeed I am. that I have no better control over myself. Jeal- ousy has made a fool of me, ns'of better men. Will you not forgive the fault which love counsels? Will on not— y He paused as she turned away with what he seem- ed to think a contemptuous gesture. He was mis- taken in this' it was a step outsxde the door which had attracted her. She was agitated as she rose to answer a knock upon the door. _ “There is a young gentleman here Wishes to see yous minute, Miss Helen,” the servant explained. “You will excuse me. Mr. Williamson?" “ Certainly.” with a smile that grew deep and subtle as the door closed upon her. " I have a fancy that l have checkmated S encer. She is but a fluttering bird, and I know we] where her nest will be." Helen had walked quickly to the room where her visitor was awaiting her. Vith surprise she sawthe shrewd face of Dick Darling. “ Do on wish to see me?" “ We 1, that’s about what brung me here,“ he an. swered. stretchin himself out in a chair. “ Got a minute's worth 0 bizness.” “What do you wish with me?" she demanded im- patiently. “Does it come back to your recollection that you nodded to a certain person say about Eleventh and Chestnut, about two o’cloc ’ this afternoon?” “I remember doing so,” she answered, afteramo- ment’s thought. “That‘s jest to the mark," declared Dick. excited— ly. “ I want the name of that certain person. Like- wise where he hangs out. Moreover, who he is.“ Dick seemed quite proud of his lawyer-like way of gutting it. He was slightly taken a ack, however, y her reply. “ls that all?” “That’s all." “ Then I decline to give you any information in re- gard to that Certain person." with an involuntary. smile at Dick’s manner. “You ain‘t goin' back on me that way?” “ I believe you said that was all our business?” “About all,’I resignedly. “All ‘ve got to say is that you’re harborin‘ a rascal. Harbor—hrs jist the word. miss. A rcg‘lar out-an’ outer of a rogue." “ You have nothing more to say?" _ “I think I’ve said ’bout enough,” rising and walk- m§ toward the door. espite her indignau'on she could not help laugh- ing as he turned his back, at the peculiar aspect of his new coat. deOIéleWhat emboldened at this, Dick turned and a e : i “ Ho e on won’t take it ag’in’ me, miss. Jist take t is ast shot. If you know this chap drop him like a hot potater, and you’ll 't 03 w thout burnt fin ere.“ Instea of returning to the parlor Helen went slowly to her own room, sending her excuses to Mr. Williamson by a servant. She wished time to reflect upon the two strange charges she had just heard. CHAPTER VII. THE LUCY‘s TWIN sIs'mR. NED HOGAN, back from his visitto Chester is again seated behind his favorite meerschaum in t a room where we first met him. Stretching himself out easily he takes the pi from his lips and lays it temporarily upon the tab 6, Erihiifijhlirs thand goes on an exploring expedition into s c e. “ don‘t know that I’ve got an ounce of proof positive,” he muttered, as he drew from its rece - mole a well-thumbed letter. “Tracked him 0 Chester well enough. Seen his interview with the red-haired cha . too. That’s correct as far as it goes, but how 0 I know but this is 9. Sell?” He opened the letter and again read it. After the address it read as follows: “If you would gain a clew to that mysterious gang of counterfeiters, who have been setting the detec- tives at defiance, you will follow thesa directions. There will, two days from the date of this letter put into the port of Chester a small sloop called the Lucy. She belongs to the gang in question, and will leave there one of her officers, 3 red-haired, thin-faced man. She will also land certain materi- als of the counterfeiters, with the pin-p, so of con- tinuing their operations in that locahy. A young 10 Detective Dick. man named Harry Spencer. of 1084 North Eleventh street, is connected with the gang. If you want to discover their movements you had bust shadow him, for he will go at once to Chester and have an interview with the red-headed man referred to. If you wish to learn more. you will find in his house a. supply of counterfeit bank-notes, and also informa- tion which may put you on the track of his con- tederates. A FRIEND.” “ A friend to who. that’s the mystery. Sartain he’s no friend to S eucer. He mought want to hurt him. It’s true things' come out just as he, says. But then, there‘s nothing to show that the sloop, or Mr. Redhead had anything to do with the gang. Hope Harris wiil track his man and the Lucy‘s cargo into some port of entry. I’m curious about that sloop. Maybe Dick may fetch her.” He had hardly thou ht this ere the person named entered the room, wit his usual frec-and-casy air. Hogan looked at him in sur rise." “ Well, I'll be swiggcd I’ he exclaimed. “ if tho, boy ain‘t changed his skin. What‘s happened to the back of your coat?” “Was down at the monagerie, and tried aback somerset over an elephant's back. Went over and didn‘t touch a hair. But it wore aleetle too much of a strain on my new ra'tl‘m." “ Ma be it was some such lie as that swelled you outan bu’sted your outfit," suggested Hogan, re- suming his pipe. “ Been along the wharvcs?" “ I hev,” quietly. “ Seen anythingi" “ ’Bout a couple of ounces or so." “What sort?" I “ Seen the Lucy l" proudly. “Jist as sure as cheese is made of sour milk. She’s changed her c0at,qthough, and dropped her name. It's t..e Molly now. " The Molly. hey i" “Where doos she lie?" ‘ At Poplar street wharf " “ All right, boy. I‘ll pay my respects to the newly- christened oun: lady," promised Hogan. Dg‘l‘KSpect 0 make anything out of her?" queried c . “ She belongs to the gang, Dick. She‘ll bear watching." “ And do you s‘pose thisgang is goin‘ to sell their- selves out as chea as that .? It's my action there‘s some deeper game n that latter." “ It may have come from some one who is turning traitor to the counterfeitn-rs.” “ It didn't do nothin‘ of the sort," protested Dick. itively. “ That fellcr that wrote this latter nowed he’d put you on the track of the Lucy. and wanted to throw you off ag’in. He weren‘t no trai- tor. then, and he's got some game you don‘t see. I’ll bet a cow he's tryin’ to hurt Mr. Spencer.“ “ I have thought of that.” admitted Ilogan. “ Wish I had took hold of the red-haired man." “ Don't you do it.” expostulated Dick. rising. “ It‘ll pay best to watch him. I'll go a peanut ‘gainst a persimmons that Chester hizness is only a blind." ' “ You‘re a shrewd imp. Dick." “ I kin see a hole through a ladder. I’m goin‘ down now to see the chap as sold me this coat, and sold me wuss than the coat. I've a notion to guv him a piece of my mind." “Good-by, Dick. Draw it mild. my boy. It’s all in the way of business. you know." Dick walked leisurely out. saying to himself: " You're a smart chap. Ned Hogan. but you won‘t catch these birds in your spring-trap. And them Govemmentdetectives ain‘t as near the game as you! I’m goin‘ for them makers of the queer and slippers of the sly. I am." He took from his pocket the torn envelope he had before used. and looked through it at the sun. He then replaced it in his pocket with an air of great satisfaction. “ That‘s the sauce for their mutton,” he said, con- fidently. ' Ten minutes afterward Dick burst into old Soi’s clothing establishment with the air of a boy that meant business. He was arrested in his object, how- ever, b an unexpected incident. The ew was engaged in earnest conversation with a. gentiemanly-dressed person. They both looked round at Dick’s abrupt entrance. and he saw to his surprise. that this gentleman was no other than the man whom he had so unsuccessfully tracked. He had also overheard something interesting. “I put it in n place,"Sol had declared, “where a child‘s rye couldn‘t miss it." “Look here. old Sol Sly.“ cried out Dick. anxious to appear not to have notich these words. “ do on call this a coat to sell to agcntleman of my standin' in s'clety?” “ I must be going now.“ remarked Mr, Williamson with only a casual glance at the boy. “You wi send the things round to my house?" “ Certainly,” answered the Jew, in a tone that seemed to Dick somewhat nervous. “ That’s a blind,” thought Dick to himself. “ And now. my dear young friend. what can I do 501‘ you to-day ?’ demanded Sol, returning from the nor. "That's a high old cove to be callin’ on you, old fellr-r. I've see’d him of‘en, but never knowed his name. What (10 you call him ?“ “Mr. Williamson.” answered Sol, quietly. “ in bizness?” asked Dick. “He has an office at fourth and Walnut. But what does my oung friend want today?" “ Got more t an I ’spected," said Dick to himself. “ Gross i can let up some on you. "Just take an observation of that coat," otIering himself for inspection. “You have been doing something to that coat," assovvratcd Sol. “ Of course I have," retorted Dick. “ I've been bu‘stin’ it.” “ It’s your own fault. I told you the coat was too tight and was a trifle tender in the seams." “Is that the first he you ever told?” asked Dick. sarcastically. “ If you crllkel‘late to shet up my eye, and then choke me off with that kind of logic, you’re barkin‘ up the wrong tree. that’s all." “ it is only the seam that has ripped." pleaded Sol, nervously. "' That can ('asin be sewed up.“ "Ain’t takiu‘ in plain sewing for a living. Guv me my own coat back, an’ you kin stitch up your own rippin's.” The Jew seemed disposed to accommodate Dick. or to be a little afraid of him. and began 10 Show him other articles of apparel. Then ensued a scene of (lickering which the reader will forgive our troub- ling him with. It ended in Dick’s procuring another coat several degrees further gone than the one he had brought back. but having the advantage of be- ing a much looser flt. . “Guess I’m spruce mm," and Dick made abee~ line for F urlh and Walnut. “ Want to find out in~ stanter if Sol told the truth. flis search was not a long one. In one of the buildings. that seemed overflowing with office-rent- ing tenants. he Soon discovered a door having on it a Sign to this effect: "Asnnnw \VILLIAMsoN, Altorney-nl-an.” “ That’s a good day‘s work,” thought Dick. “Guess l’ve druv‘ more than one nail to the head. Best go home now and get some grub." And he ended a hard day‘s work with a not very luxurious supper. CHAPTER VIII. HARRY srnnona‘s vist'roas. " Now don’t nohodv hnther me fur an hour. more or less.” commanded Dicl: Darling, letting himself down gingerlv into a chair that was doing its best to maintain a dignified position on three legs. Hofore him was a table of the most venerable aspect, on which he had carefully deposited a sheet of paper and a bottle of ink. '31“. n <.