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copyrighted. 1885, by Bnnu AND ADAMS. Entered at tho Pon Oflico gt New York. N. Y., ar Second Clau Mufl Matter. Jun. 13. lass.-

 

VOL IXI $2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Prlve NO. 

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a "'3‘"- No. 98 Wu.me ST" NEW YORK. “"0 00""-

 

 

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1H“. ._   ‘ h'  7- CHAS.MORR|
«Wm. H mm ' ‘ ‘  BY -7 8'

El WAS BINDING OVER AN OPEN CASKET ON A TABLE. FROM WHICH an TOOK IN SUCCESleN SEVERAL
JEWELS, WHICH SEEMED TO HARRY'S UNACCUSTOMED EYES OF “WUSVBEAUTY.

M , \\,,

 

 

M

 

 

 

,/

2 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective.

Handsome Harry,

The Bootblack Detective.

BY CHARLES MORRIS,

AUTHOR or “WILL sonnas,” “PHIL HARDY,”
am, mm, are.

  
   
 
  
    
   
   
  
    
   

 

CHAPTER I.
THE Boo'rBLAoK’s DAYeBOOK.

IT was a beautiful spring morning. Winter
had vanished with its frosts the winds of March
had blown themselves out; the rains of April had
fallen; the bright sun of early May now warmed
- the soft south winds.

I But at the point where our story opens the

' traces of spring were not visible in green fields
and verdant roves} but rather in muddy streets
anddiscard overcoats. For six months past
the street-cleaners-had been activezin nothing
except in drawing their wages, and the hi h-
ways and b ays of New York were decide ly
V in need oft e broom of the scavengers.

. But it is an ill wind that blows nobody good.
Muddy streets are the harvest of the bootblacks,
and that class of active young artisans was out
in fierce this morning; * .r . 
, . In the broad, sla paved space of the City
“Hall park, a knot of such young gentry had
r gathered, boxes flungover their shoulders, many
of their faces lookin as if they had used them
totest the quality of t eir blacking, but as happy
, asif each of them owned all of New York, and

‘. 'as'full of mischievous tricks as a cage—full of

monkeys out on a holiday.
, One of them, rather better dressed and with
acleaner face than his companions. but as full
of the spirit of fun as any of them, seemed to
exercise a sort of control over the rest, as if
force of character had raised him to a tacit gen-
. eralship.

He was a good-looking lad, with bright eyes
and an intelligent expression, while the neatness
with which his clothes had been mended seemed
to bespeak a careful mother.

,  Two of the young sca egraces had got into a

" fight, and were pumme ing each other as if
. fines and eyes were only made to be targets for

Is.
“ Look

 
         
 
   
   
   
   
 
 

,(

    
   
  
  
   
   

fy’ here, Harry,” cried a little Tom
Thumb o a chap to the boy of whom we have
spoken. “There’s Bill Blunt a-peggin’ it like
fun into our Joe. jist ’cause Joe called him a
lummux—anrl he is a lummux, tool” The little
« fellow’s eyes filled with tears.

“Hold my box. Tim,” replied the boy ad-
dressed. “ I’ll settle ’em.”

He walked quickly across to the fighting boys,
and grasped each of them flrmlyby the collar.

“Now, drop it right there,"‘he exclaimed.
>“This mill can’t go on. Do you want to have
the perleece down on ye, you cross-eyed young
rats? Drop it right there, I say!”

“I ain’t done polishin’ him up yet,” replied
one of the boys. “ He called me a lum‘mux. and
I don’t take that from no snoozer like him.”

“ S’pose he did! You just called him a

 

snoozcr; won't that square it up, without smash-
ing one another’s noses?”

“ We’re a—goin’ to have it out!” cried the other
savagely. “ J ist you let go my collar, Harry
Hunter, or I’ll rattle into your affections next.”

He was as large a boy as Harry, but the latter
did not seem much scared by this threat.”

“You’ll rattle into me, will you?” he rejoined.
“ Look here, Bill, you know I’m not a. fighter or

on wouldn’t say it. If I was a bruiscr like you

’d just shake you till your teeth rattled—this
way ” and suitiniethe action to the word he
shook the youn lligerent till it seemed as if
he would shake 'm out of his clothes.

“ That’s what I’d do if I was fond of a mill.
And I’d catch you by the collar—this way; and
by the breeches—this way; and I’d lay you out
on the grass to dry—this way.”

And in a minute Bill Blunt, very much aston-
ished, found himself flying head-foremost over

a bench, and bringing up with a surge on the -

soft r rass of the inclosnrc. '
“ hat’s' just to show you what I’d do if I was

a fighter—which I ain’t,” continued Harry, walk- I 1

ing away.

‘ Bully
other boys, in delight. “ He’s the chap to rattle
them down. You get off the grass, Bill gift
you see the Sign?” :-

 

 

Bill gathered himself up, shook himself to so

if there was anything leose, and crept off, crest-
fallen enough, though there was something sav-
age in the look which be cast toward his athletic
antagonist. _

, But without paying further attention to him
Harry resumed his box, while the little fellow
who had held it capcred around him in delight.

“ Oh my, Harry, if you ain’t a daisy!” he ox-
claime , in admiration.

“That’s all right, Tom,“ returned Harry.
“ I’m 5 uare up for e and quiet, you know.
Only Bill‘s been gettm’ a little too much crow in
him for this barnyard. He wanted his comb
out a bit.” '

“ You’re jist an out-and-out daisy!” repeated
little ,Tim. “An’ he’s a lummux, jist as Joe
said.” ‘

But Harry had other business on hand just
then, and left little Tim to his adnumtmn. He
had. caught sight‘of a pair of vcr muddy boots
approaching, on the feet of a we l-dressed indi-
v1dual. ‘ .

“Black Your boots, si ’1?” he cried. whipping
his box from his shoul ers. “ Polish ’em up!
Shine ’em up! Put your foot right hero. I’ll
give you a boot you could see to shave in.”

The person addressed stopped, and looked su-
Peroiliously downw‘ard. .

“ I am afraid there is more talk than there Is
work in you, my boy,” he said. ‘ “ I don’t like so
much tongue.” ‘ ’

“ Try me, that’s all,” returned Harry. “Just
let me get my double-distilled, high—pressure
Polish on them boots, and if you don’t think
there’s been a mistake, andjthat you’re some-
body else than you thought you were, then I
won’t‘charqe you a red for the job; that’s me.”

“ Thnt will do,” returned the gentleman storn— '

1%, “ Don’t flatter yourself that impudence is
smnrtness. You may go on, if you can h01
your tongue.”

for Handsome Harry I” screamed the ‘:

 

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Handsome Harry. the Bootblack Detectives 3r

 

He placed a mudd
glanced at him wit
the boy d d not relish.

“ Wonder if he’s King George, or the Prince
of Whales?” muttered Barry to himself, as he
brushed away at the boot. "Puts on as much
style as if he was Emperor of China. Got halt'
a mind to take him down a peg.”

He brushed diligently away at the somewhat
large boot, keeping silent With some difficulty,
for speech flowed as readily from his tongue as
water from a spring.

“Hurry up, there!” cried the gentleman im—
patiently; “ can’t stand here all day.”

“And do you s'pose a fellow’s goin’ to get
over a side of leather as uick as he would over
a baby’s shoe?" retorted arry, angrily, for he

rided himself on his quickness. “ There ain‘t a
Boy around the Hall can beat me on a polish;
but, when we take in wholesale jobs, we expect
to have time to at over 'em.”

’5 wor elicited a laugh of derision
from the other boys, several of whom were look-
ing on.

“What do you mean, you impudent oung
hound?” asked the gentleman, his face flushed
with anger. _

“ Nothing much,” returned Harry. “ thole—
sale business is one thing, and retail’s another;
that’s all. There wasn’t never a trotter yet

boot on Harry’s box. and
a disdainful look, which

that could get over a two-mile course in one-

mile time.”

“ Confound you,” exclaimed the irritated cus-
tomer, whose boots were now shining brightly.
“Do on suppose I came here to listen to your
imputlenee, which you call smartness.”

Ho kicked the box fiercely away. and started
to walk off.

“ Hold on, there 1” cried Harry, running after
him, brush in hand. “ It‘s cash in this ’stablish-
ment. We don’t charge no bills.
fork over.” ,

“ Do you fancy thatI am goingto pay you for
your impudence?”

“ I s’pect you’re goin’ to pay me for my polish.
The im rdence is flung in free.”

“ I t ink we will let the im udence stand
against the polish,” retorted t e gentleman,
looking at Harry With a smile o triumph.
“ You’ve had your fun. It’s m time now.”

“And you ain‘t goin’ to plan down?”

“ I think not.” I

“And you want me to charge it in my books?”

“ Yes, if you keep a set of books."

“ All correct,” said Harry. .f‘ I’li charge it in
the bootblack’s day-book, so that you won’t for—
get that you're owing me for one polish.”

In an instant the brush which lie-held in his
hand, well supplied with blacklng‘, was daubed
against the knee of the gentleman’s l) ht—colored
pantaloons, leavin an unsightly blac blotch.

“ That’s charg up now.” cried Harry, as a
roar of ‘jeering laughter broke from his compan-
ions. ‘ Guess I won’t sto to polish it.”

In an instant be was 0 at full speed, grasp-
ing his box as he passed it, and shooting like a
deer around the corner of the marble building
near which they stood.

The gentleman stood dumfounded, looking
down at his disfigured knee, while an expression
of savage anger came upon his dark face.

Just please

 

“All right, my lad.” he fiercely ejaculated, as
he walked away. “There are more days than
one. I will pa you for this.”

Meanwhile arrfir, with his box flung across
his shoulder, wnl ed gayly away, his face
wreathed with smiles.

“ Wonder if he thought bootblacks was dogs?”
be queried. “Maybe next time he’ll look out a
little for his own ton ue. It’s all imperdrnco
when it comes from a oy, but it’s all perlitcness
when it comes from a man, I s’pose. Only boys
don’t always see it that way.”

“Hey, Harry are you open for a job this

morning?” calla a cheery voice near him.

Harry turned quickly. to see a Well-dressed,
genial-looking young man, who stood just be-
hind him.

“ Greed-morningZ Mr. Livingston,” returned
Harry, politely. ‘I am always ready to give
you apolish: you know that. Hoist up your
foot on my box, and see me make the mud fly.”

The boy went to work with a vim which he
had not shown in his former job, brushing; away
as if life and death depended on his dis atcl).

“ There; that will do, Harry," said his smiling
customer. “ The other, now.”

“No, it won’t do neither,” cried Harry.
“Ain’t gotthe doubledistilled polish on yet.
S’pose there ain’t no artists in boot-blocking, as
well as in other lines? Just you hold still.”

The young than laughed, and pushed his band
carelessly into his pocket. But, suddenly, a

marked change of expression came upon his 
He hurriedly felt in all liispoekets,biti;ng ‘ "

face.
his lips with an expression of chagrin.

tore .

don’t see how I can go back.” . c

“There,” said Harr ,tappinehisbox. “That’s
a job a fellow mig t be proud of. That’s
artistic, right out from the shoulder.
them shoes, sir.”

“ Yes; very good,” replied his customer, ab-
stractedly. ‘ Ha!” he quickly continued, as his
eyes rested on Harry. “A good thought. I
wonder if I could trust him '4”

“Trust me, do you mean?” asked Hairy.
“Just lay down a heap of 'old dollars here, and
see if you can‘t. I bet no ( og, that don’t know
what money is, could watch ’em closer.”

“ Do you know New York well, Harry E”

“Try to lose me about this town, and you’ll ’

see if I don’t.”

“13nd would you mind doing an errand for
me?

“Out with it, Mr. Livingston.
thin for you.”

“ hen you must be quick as lightning, for
there is not a minute to lose. You will take the
Elevated Railroad and go out to Harlem; then
—but can you read?”

“I rather reckon so.” ’

“Here are the directions then,” hurriedly
writing. “Goto this street und number, and
ask to see Miss Gordon. Don’t be at ofl’, mind;
you must see her in person, and )and her this
note.” He gave Harry a note he had quieka
indited.

“That’s d0wn.” answered Harry. “ What
else?” , 1

I’ll do any-

hook at e

“ By Jove! Can I have. forgotten it?” he mub- i

1'.'

d 7. ,
“ Well~of all the awkward mistakes—audit“: .

l ‘ Handsome Harry. the Bootblack Detective._

 

“She will give you a package, with which you
are to return as quickly as possible. You will
find me at—but I ad better write that direction
too, to make sur . Remember, my boy, that
this is a matter 'of the greatest importance.
You must let nothing detain ou. in going or

' «returning. I would go myself, ut that is im-
, possible.’ '
x. “ I’m your race-horse," cried Harry. “Don’t
you Worry a skiver. I’ll do all that’s in the
wood, you can bet high on that.”

—'—r'
CHAPTER II.

. 'WHAT HARRY SAW THROUGH THE WINDOW.

‘ A RIDE on the Elevated Railroad was a new
experience for-Harry Hunter, whose profession
of bootblack had so far made him use his own

' shoes for vehicles, and the shoes of his patrons
asa means of livelihood. He had not been ac-
customed to such rapid traveling as this, and to

~ ‘ sayidthat he enjoyed it would be putting it rather

m1 . ,

He simply luxuriated in it, leaning back on
the soft—cushioned seats, and watching the long
rews of houses which swept in stately procession

, past him, with a sense of pride in himself, and

> in the city which was honored by his presence.
“ If this ain’t high old getting over ground,
then you can bang me!” he soliloquizcd.

“ Shootin’ through New York like a sky rocket,

or a forty~horse power balloon! And only the

price at afipolish for a run from down town clean
out to arlem! Guess I’ll charter this old

team.” I

‘ D‘He leaned back with an air as if he had al-
ready lived as lonfi as Methusaleh, and was only
new beginning to ad out what the world was
made of.- ' r

On and on they shot, stopping at station after
station, passing Central Park, and darting on
into the benighted regions beyond it at an eleva-

-» tion that made Harry dizzy.
’ “ I Wonder if we’re goin’ to cut loose from the

.~( ground altogether?” he muttered, as the bottom

:‘ of the valley over which the read now passed

seemed dangerously distant. “ I didn’t pay for a

' b' lloon ride, and I ain’t got no fancy fer goin’ to

eaven by railroad; so I wish they’d p’int the
old machine down ag’in. But my stars, if

A there ain’t a. big slice of all creation spread out

yonder.”

It was indeed a fine view of upper New York

, city, of its girdling rivers, and of the inhabited

 , hills beyond, which lay spread out before

. Harry’s admiring eyes, and which roused the
artistic taste which lay dormant in his soul.
“I bet high this ain’t my last holiday on the

Elevated,” he said, in a satisfied tone. “But,

what a taruation long road? Seems to me

as if we’d been six hours now, and had come a

r hundred miles.” .

1 At this moms t the train slackened speed, and

' soon halted at t 3 terminus of the road. Harry
got up with some dissatisfaction. and followed
his_fellow passengers down the long flights of

\

 

 

‘ \

stair . . '

“ It’s better than gettin’ down on your knee—
boues and scrubbin’ away at some chap’s muddy
trotters,” he muttered. “ But whereabouts am
1 new? I must get my bearin’s.”

' But New York was too much of an old songto

 

 

(

Harry for him to be long astray in any part of
it. It was not two minutes before he was mak-
ing a bee—line for the pelnt to which he was ac-
credited.

It was some two miles distant from the termi-
nus of the road, part of the way along settled
streets, part across fields, or over rock-strewn
hollows.

He soon neared the house in which he was to
find Miss Gordon. It was a thinly—settled dis-
trict, very near the banks of the Hudson, which
flowed here in a broad stately tide, as if proud
of the throng of vessels and throbbing steamers
that ruffled its liquid plain.

“ There’s the house now,” exclaimed Harry,
“and Jerusha, but it’s a ripper! Brown stone
front near as bread as the City Hall, and two
genuine stone lions on guard duty at the front
door.’7

Harry knew only one way to get into a house,
and that was always by the stateliest entrance
it possessed.

In response to his ring a nobbily—dressed serv-
ant appeared at the door, with his chin in the air,
and 1118 eyes bent upward at an angle of ferty~
five degrees.

“Miss Gordon live here?” asked our important
young messenger.

“ Yas,” answered the footman who had now ..

got his eyes down to Harry’s level.

“All right. Make yourself active, and tell
her there’s a gentleman waiting to see her on
important business. And, mind you, say im-
portant with a big R. Just roll it out lively.”

The astonished servant surveyed the speaker
as if anxious to make out What new species of
animal this was. His chin went higher yet in
the air.

“Miss Gordon don’t see any beggars,” he re-
plied. “ Get away now.”

“ See here, sonny,” cried Harry, undauntedly,
“don’t say beggar to me again, if you aren’t
wanting that lofty nose of yourn barked. I’ve
got to see ,Miss Gordon instanter; and you’ll
know the reason why if you don’t stir yourself.
Absquatulate new.”

The footman looked for a moment as if he
would have liked to annihilate this saucy
{isiton But wiser second thoughts soon came to

1m. ’

“Very well,” he said. “ I will tell Miss Gor-
don that there's a young gentleman waiting to
see her. What name shall I say?”

The insolenoe of the footman‘s tone was quite
a match for Harry’s impudencc. But our young
friend was ual to the occasion.

“ Say it’s arry Hunter, bootblack. And you
can say bootblack just as if you said lord, or
duke, for it’s an honest business, and that’s as
much as a lord’s is. Tell her I’ve got a no‘e for
her which must go in her hands quick as lightn-
in’ z or quicker.”

The footman turned on his heels, shutting/the '

door carefully behind him. .
Ye was‘back ’again in a very fewminutes.
“ You are to send the note upto MissGordon,”
he said curtly. » ’ w ‘ a
“I don’t know ’bout that,” was Ma’s doubt-
iul Eesponse. “ I was told to give it into her own
an s. ' v - '

“You will give it to me, or go about-your ’

m...

l



 

 

 

e a

Handsome Harry. the Bootblack Detective; 5

 

business,” replied the servant. “ And I can’t
spend my time here all day, talking with aboot-
black.” ‘

“ You might talk with worse company, and
then be talking to your bettcrs,”retorted Harry,
as he reluctantly drew the note from his pocket.
“ Here’s the letter, then; and see that she gets it
straight off, or you’ll maybe find yourself in hot
water afore you know it.”

“ See here, boy,” exclaimed the angry ser-
vant: “ if there’s any more of this impudence,
l’ll tumble you head-foremost off the steps. I
won't stand it!”

Harry’s intended retort was prevented by the
approach of a gentleman, who at that moment
mounted the steps. He stopped with a surprised

air.

“ What is the matter, James?” he asked.

“ This young chap has brought this note for
Miss Gordon. And his tongue is a good deal too
live] for his size.”

“ h, I suppose it’s all right, James,” said the
new—comer, glancing at the superscription of the
note which the servant held.

on seeing it, however, his face changed
color. With a quick movement he took it
from the footman’s hand, and looked at- it
more closely.

" I am going in to see Miss Gordon,” he said,
in a voice in which a quick car might have de-
tected unquiet. “ I Will take it u to her."

" I didn’t give it to you to ta 9 up!” cried
Harry, boldly. “ You aren’t Miss Gordon’s sor-
vant, are you?”

At these words the gentleman, for the first
time, turned to look at the messenger, and Harry
got a good look at his face. An observer would
have been amused at their sudden change of ex-
pression. Harry backed, step by step, his eyes
riveted on the face of the other.

“ By cats and dogs, if it ain’t the skulk that
done me out of the price "of a polish l” he
ejaculated. as he noted the stern face, small,
deep-set eyes, and long mustache of the man be-
fore him.

A savage expression came upon the face of the
latter. .

“ Hal I’ve caught you already, my street
rat!" he exclaimed. “I will leave my mark on
3,011., now!”

He made a quick leap for Harry; but the lat?

ter was too alert to be caught so easily. One
bound took him to the foot of the steps. In an-
other instant he was off like a. deer along the
garden wall. quite distancing his msuér. The
latter turned back after a minute. finding it quite
impossible to overtake the agile boy.

“Come back for your answer to the note!”
cried the pursuer, fiercely. “ I Will give it to
you with good interest.” _ '

Harry looked on at a distance With chagrin,
as his enemy entered the house and closed the
door behind him. a; _

“ If this ain’t rich, then there’s no use talkin’,”
he soliloquized. “What will Mr. Invmgston

'of me now? If I could only get in to where
Miss out, he wouldn’t touch me afore her,
and I’dketmy answer. But I can’t get in past
that galoot or a Want." .

Harry’s eyeszwere roamiug'about busdy as he
spoke. He took in the front and rear of the

 

house, the hight of the garden railing, and all
other perceptible details.

“ There’s only the one thing for it,” he mut-
tered. “ I’m a-goin’ to get in that house, if I he
took for a burglar the next minute.”

No sooner said than done. A stone wall of
three feet in hight and five feet of iron railing,
were slight obstacles to the agile lad. He went.
over them almost as quickly as a. monkey could
have performed the same feat.

The garden was chiefly laid out in flower-beds.
But it had numerous trees, and some walks
shaded by high bushes. Along one of these the
interloper cautiously made his way.

Arrived at the rear of the mansion, he stopped
to reconnoiter. Voices were audible in the
kitchen, of which the back door stood open.
But at the side of the house, near which Harry
stood, there were no signs of occupancy. .The
shutters of the basement floor were closely
bowed. But on the first floor, above his hea ,
there was a window open, with the inner cur-
tain partly raised. . .

Up the side of the house, close to this window, .
ran the stem of a strong vine, which branched l
out over a shaded arbor higher up.

Harry looked at it an instant.

“ I can shin that,” he said. ,

Without a moment’s further hesitation or re-
flection, he had gras ied the vine, and was going
up it hand over han , as alertly as an old sailor.

Reaching the level of the window, he swung
himself around, and looked into the apartment
from which it opened.

What was his surprise to see there his late
pursuer engaged in a very suspicious action.

Ie was 1 ending over an open casket on a table,
from which he took in succession several jewels
which seemed to Harry’s unaccustomed eye oi
marvelous beauty.

“This solitaire,” muttered the visitor, holding
up a flashing ring. “ I will never be suspected,
and I can make good use of this. Livmgston
was here this morning, and the jewel-case must
have been ex osed then.”

He sudden y paused, in a listening attitude. ‘2- V

The next moment he hastily closed the caske
slipped the stolen ring into his vest“ pocket an
stepped quickly to the wall, where he seemed to
be intently admiring a picture that hung there.

The door opened, an a young lady entered. ,
Or an angel rather, as she seemed to Harry’s
ndmirin eyes, for she appeared to him to be too
heautifu to be a mere earthly creature. Her
delicate com lexion, finely—cut features, soft and
full eyes, an
relieved rather than hightened in their beaut
by the shimmering folds of her amber-lined si
dress. She walked into the room with a digni-
fied, yet easy and graceful movement.

“ Mr. Staiiway,” she said.

The visitor turned, with a gesture of sur-

rise.
p “ Excuse me, Miss Gordon; I was so taken up
with your new picture. that I did not notice your
entrance. It is a beautiful piece.”

“ I hardly see how you can tell that, in this
vague light,” she replied, with a slight ripple of
musical laughter. ‘ Wait till I raisethe curtain
and let more light in on it. I think It fine.”

As for Harry, he concluded notto wait. There .

masses of rich brown hair, were ,

 

8 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective.

 

were two ways of descending the vine before the
young,r lady should get to the curtain. He chose
the quickest, let go his hold, and tumbled hcud-
long on the soft sward of the garden.

Last the noise of this hasty descent should
alarm the house, he crawled quickly into a dense
bu sh near him, and lay concealed from sight and
hearing.

 

CHAPTER III.
ALICE GORDON’S LOVERS.

VVHXLE these events were progressing Mr.
’Eilward Livingston proceeded from the point of
his meeting With Harry, making his way into
the intricate lexus of streets which form the
lower part. of cw York city.

Turning into Beaver street he made his way
along that avenue moral to trade.

“I never did anything before quite so awk-
ward," he muttered. “ To forget that docu-

ment atacrisis like this! It might endanger /

all, if these men were disposed to lie obstinate.
That comes from being taking prisoner by u.
woman’s eyes. Alice Gordon has my sin to an-
swer for.”

He walked on slowly, looking occasionally at
the numbers of the stores. He seemed seeking a
particular locality.

‘V‘I wonder if I can trust that boy?” be con—
tinued. “ I should have gone myself, but I
must be present to soothe their agitated souls
until my messenger arrives. It is decidedly an
awkward fix.—Ahl here is the spot. Price and

' Company—Now for my plunge.” ’
\ Entering the doorway of a dingy-fronted but
huge mercantin establishment. he made his way

to the Second story, and entered a large room,-

furnished as an office, and occupied by some
twenty individuals, in whom his coming seemed
to relieve a. feeling of suspense.

\ “You are late, Mr. Livingston,” said one of
them, a large-framed but sharp-looking person-
age, who occupied the seat of honor, at a high
desk in the front of the room.

"It is only ten,” replied Livingston, calmly,
glancing at his watch.

“Ten minutes after, sir,” retorted the other,
taking from his pocket a magnificent gold re-
peater. “A man of business should carry a
correct time-piece. Ten minutes each to twenty
merchants is two hundred minutes. Just three
hours and twenty minutes wasted for us be-
cause you choose to be careless about your
watch.”

“Your arithmetic is very good,” returned
Livingston, a little vexed. “Each of you has
lost ten minutes reading of the Tribune or
Herald; for which I am duly sorry. But you
must excuse my delay. Had we not better pro-
cciiil to organize the meeting?”

" We are organized, sir ” responded another
of tzh’e merchants. “ Will Mr. Gordon be pres-
ent. ,

“ He is utterly unable to come,” was the re-
ply. “He is quite prostratod and under the
(l )zztor’s care. But his presence will not be neces-
sary. ’

“No.” returned the first speaker. “If you
ll’lV3 the articles of agreement duly signed and
witnessed, I think we can cxouse his attend-
anse. ' i

 

This remark precipitated matters with Mr.
Livingston. He was forced to the disagreeable
necessity of explaining how he hud left behind
him this important document. but that he had
sent a incsmnger in all haste to obtain it, and
that it would be there by noon at the latest.

Au outcry of angry excitement was aroused
in the assembly by this information. “ Unpar-
Lloiiablcl” “A ridiculous excuse!” “ I, for one,
shall not wait,” and a dozen other such exclama—
tions came from the buzzing throng of vexed
merchants: ,

Mr. Livingston did his best to try and soothe
the angry gentlemen, andto keep them from (lis—
persiug until Harry should arrive.

“ I acknowledge all my carelessness," he ex-
claimed. “ But in any case there is an hour or
two’s work before us. There are a number of
points of importance to consider, and we willbo
fully occupied until my messenger arrives.”

“ There is nothing we can’t settle in ten min-
utes ” e'aculated the chairman.

“ on t you imagine that,” replied Living-
ston, coolly. “ You won’t find it aseasy to bring
twenty men to one way of thinking as to move
a shipment of sugar. ct us to business, gentle-
men.” "

The business to be done was real] y but the
settling of some minor points, but Livingston
shrewdly managed, by 0 position and adverse
arguments, to protract tie discussion, allil- to
occupy the minds of the merchants by stirring
them up teeager argument.

It had been too difficult to get them together
to let them separate until the missing paper was
duly executed. The fortunes of the wealthy
merchant, George Gordon, rested upon his skill
during these two anxious hours. ’

But, meanwhile, the fortunes of George Gor~
don were being imperiled by circumstances quite
beyond his control. All was not going well
with Harry Hunter in his errand. The fates
which, had sent Hall Stanway there at that uu~
lucky moment seemed about to prove disastrous.

\Ve must return to the room in which we left
Miss Alice Gordon and her Visitor. She had
just crossed the apartment to raise the curtain.
as we have seen. But, as her hand touched the
cord she gave a slight start of surprise.

“What was that?” she exclaimed, as a hollow
thud sounded beneath the window. V “

Mr. Stauway quickly crossed to her side, raised
the curtain, and looked out.

"' I see nothing there,” he said. I

“ And yet it sounded as if something had fal-
len. I must have been deceived in the direction
of the sound.” _

AS she stood with slightly-pawl lips and
flushed cheeks, looking through the open win-
dow, Mr. Steinway gazed upon her With undis-
guised admiration.

“ I called principally to in iiire as to the health
of Mr. Gordon,” he explainei , as she returned to
him. “I hope he has had a good night, and is
better this morning.” _

A sad look came into the face of'the beautiful
girl, as she slowly shook her head in response.

“ He is still very unwell,” she replied. “ I
am in hopes, however, it is nothing more t an a
sew-re nervous shock. and that rest Will rove
the medicine he needs. «

  

A

 

 

L flayflh<k> ea «.

 

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s£*‘v-\ '

. a: V

Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective. 7

 

“Rest of mind,” added Mr. Stanway. “We
are doing our best to settle this business trouble.
If we have satisfactory success it will certainly
relieve him.” '

“God send that you may!" she fervently re-
sponded. “ You have my earnest thanks for
your kind efforts. Is that note for me?”

“ Oh, yes! I had forgotten,” he exclaimed,
glancing at the note which he had been holding
partly extended toward her. “ There was a
messenger boy on the steps with it as I came up.
I told James that I would hand it to you.”

She tore it open, and glanced quickly over its
ponciled contents.

“How provoking!” she exclaimed, in a tone
of vexation. “Mr. Livingston has left behind
him the document which he was to take in to the
meeting this morning. It was partly my for-
getfulness, too. I hope it will occasion no trou—
ble. It must be sent withoutamomeut’s delay,”
she cried, excitedly. ‘

She was already at the door of the room.

“ J ames,” she called.

“ Yes, ’um," came a voice from below, and in
a minute more the important f ootman appeared.
I “ 1,5 the boy who brought this note still waitr
Jng?’

As she spoke J ames’s eyes had wandered from
her face to that of Mr. Stanway. A peculiar
warning IOok was upon the latter.‘

“ He ain‘t, mum,” replied James.
right away.

“ That is too bad! He should have waited.
See if you can overtake him, James.”

“Yes, ’um.”

“ There is no need of that,” said Stanway,
quietly. “ I am going immediately into the
city, and will take it in for you.”

“Will your” she exclaimed, her face lighting
up with a look of joy. “ I will be ever so thank-
ful to you. That will do, James. Excuse me
one moment, Mr. Stanway. I will get it.”

She hastened from the room. in a silky gleam,
as her shimmerin dress swept across the broad
beam of the sunlig t.

“ Good!” he muttered between his teeth. ‘ “ I
am getting the ame in my own hands. It is
now or never. I she refuses me now I will ruin
her father, and we will see then if my lady
keeps her pride. As for Ned Livingston, I have
him under my thumb, too. He won’t stand so
well in her good graces if this stolen ring is
traced to him.”

He took the ring from his pocket, held it an
instant in the flash of the sunshine, but dropped
it again as he heard her returning step.

“It is true,” she excitedly exclaimed, on re.-
entering. “He did leave it behind him. It is
here, Mr. Stanway. I hope you will make all
haste.”

There was a peculiar expression on his face as
he took the document from her extended hand.
To her surprise he retained her hand in his; She
flashed up a look of inquiry in which was min-
gled some displctAsure.

A single glance at the expression of his face.
and she withdrew her hand with a somewhat
hasty movement from his close grasp.

“Pardon me, Miss Gordon—Alice,” he quickly
said. “I know this may seem an inoppm-tune
moment to address you on any but the one sub-

“ He went

 

'ect. But I cannot restrain my feelings at will.
need not sa that I love you. nor how deeply I
love you. I ave spoken on this sub’ect before.
and you have given me reason to ope. Oh!
will you not change it now from hope to cer-
tainty-to undying surety of bli?” -

His Voice had a ring which seemed that of
counterfeited passion. It apparently ave her a
disagreeable sensation. She drew bac . with a
look upon her face anything but favorable to his
suit.

“ I do not know when or how I gave you any
such hope,” she answered, with some distress of
tone. “ Certainly I had no intention of raising.
false expectations in your mind. I be ou will
cease to address me on this subject, r. Stan-‘
way. I wish to remain your friend; but can
never be more to you than a friend.”

“I cannot continue a mere friend!” he hotly
exclaimed. “I must be more or less than a
friend. There are passages in life at whichwo
cannot stop—we must go forward or back. Love
cannot arrestitself on the mild plain of friend-

shi .”

‘PYou must go back, then. You cannot go
forward. I need a friend now; not a lover. I
pray that you will not withdraw your friend-
ship from me because I cannot enforce my affec-
tions in your favor."

He stood with a half-sulky, doubtful aspect:
regarding her with something lowering in his
glance. There was a sense in his attitude of
that of the tiger at bay, though it was glossed
over with the polish of enforced liteness.

“Miss Alice,” came a voice mm the door.
The attractive face of a young servant girl ap-
peared there. '

Alice seemed glad of the interruption. She
hastened with a quick step to the door. .

But we must go back somewhat to trace the
cause of this interruption, for which VHarry
Hunter was wholly responsible. -

We left that young gentleman closely hidden
in the leafy de ths of a clump of bushes, where
he lay extend . awaiting developments. ' ..

His quick ears caught the words spoken b
Miss Gordon and her visitor at the window. t
was all right. His escape had not been dis-
covered.

After a minute or two he crawled cautiously
out from his covert. plans of action busily _re-
volving through his head as he did so. Gaining
the wall of the house he moved slowly along it._

“ I s’wse it’s cheapest in the long run to hit
the nail square in the head,” he soliloquized.
“Wonder what sort of gal they’ve gotin the
kitchen? If there’s a good-lookin’ one there, a
little soft talk might come it over her—I’m go-
in’ to try it on, anyhow.”

With a holder step he walked around the
corner of the house, and approached the kitchen
door. It stood wide open, and two women were
visible within, one engaged in laundry work,
and the other—a pretty young girl—husfly par-
ing potatoes for dinner. . _

She looked up with a slight exclamation of
alarm, as Harry suddenly appeared fore her
eyes. On his side he stopped short, his eyes
fixed upon her with an admiring gaze. \.

The older woman at the ironing table gazed
quickly round. \

 

 

8 Handsome Harry, the Bootblacl: Detective.

 

“Who are you, and what brings you here?”
she harshly as ed.

" I 'most always come in this way,” said
Harry. “ ’Cos why; I ain’t got u nobby
enough for your front-door gentry; an I’d any
time sooner talk to a couple of pretty girls than
to a stuck-up jack of a man.”

‘f Oh! you’re a fool,” cried the woman, yet
ev1dently not ill-pleased. “ Just suppose you
get out of here by the same way you got in.’

The youn er girl laughed.

“ How di you get in?” she asked.

“That’s my secret,” said Harry, mysterious-
. ly. “ I never blow on myself. Fact is I’ve got

bizness with Miss Gordon, and thought I wasn’t
rigged spruce enough to go to the front.”

Get out then and go to the area gate.
That’s the place for your kind,” replied the older
woman.

“ What’s the use, when I’m here now, to fetch
one of you to let me in?” rejoined Harry, cool]
seati himself. “ Can’t you go up and to
, Mi rdon there’ a young gentleman here a-
waitin’ to see her?”

“Miss Gordon don’t allow us to tell lies,” said
the girl. “ So I wouldn’t like to call you a
young gentleman.”

“ Say then it’s a gnolisher of youn gentlemen’s
understandings. ay it’s Hari- unter, boot-

lack, and who ain’t no more as amed of it than
' if he was a bank president."

'. “ Oh, you go to grass with your nonsense. I

ain’t’floor-tender, and I’ve got my potatoes to
re. ‘

“ Is that all?” cried Harry. “ Guess you never
saw. me parin’ pertaters. I’m just a steam-
. engine at that bizness. I never see a prett girl
like you with a {an of Ipertaters, but I ways
want to dive rig t in an pare.”

,Before she could prevent him Harry had taken
the pan of potatoes from her lap. snatching a
'knife from the table, and was busy at work,
taking off quite as much potato as paring at
every vigorous sweep of his knife.

The two women watched him for a moment in
silence, and then burst into a roar of laughter.

“ Well, if he ain’t a lively youn rascal I
never saw one,” cried the elder. “ ou’d best
go 11 , Sally, and tell Miss Gordon ’bout him,
or he ll be tryin’ to cook the dinner next!”

“ That’s so. Sally,” responded the boy, as he
made the potato parin s fly, “and I’m some
ms at cookin’, too on y I am afeard I might
scorch the gravy, which wouldn’t be quite com-
.fortable.”

Sally laughed again as she left the room to
break up the interview between Miss Gor on
. and her would-be lover, as we have already seen.

 

CHAPTER IV.
LIVELY nuns IN Tun KITCHEN.

Ma. Snuwar stood bitin his lips with cha-

' . His footta ped the oorwith anangry
impatience. His owncast eye rested on the
knee of his pantaloons where there remained a
trace of Harry‘s handiwork, though the most
of the stain had been removed.

“The young hound!” he muttered between
his teeth, his thoughts reverting to the
“ See if I don’t settle for him, and for his

‘ /

‘t us occupied his ten

 

employer, Ned Livinaton. A , and for our
Eroud beauty, Alice rdon. I, have only to
eep back this paper until the meeting breaks
131;), and George Gordon’s ruin is accomplished.
on have despised my love, my haughty young
lady. ” We will see if I have lost my power to
5 ing.

She continued absent, talking to the girl.
With a esture of im atience he took his hat.

“ G -day, Miss ordon ” he said, through
the partly-open door. “ ou must excuse my
haste, but every minute is im rtant now. This
document must not be delay .”

“ Pardon me, Mr. Stanway,” she replied, from
beyond the door. “ Wait one moment only.”

‘ Wait! For what?” he said to himself, with
a fierce intonation. “For you to tell me that

ou have thought better of your refusal of my
ove? No, indeed: I read your look too well to
fancy that. I will not wait, I will have the
credit of haste. But, for all that, I fear the
meetin will not get this aper in time.”

f‘ Te _the boyto wait or a minute or two,”
said Alice to her servant, as she dismissed her.

“I Will not be obliged to trouble on, Mr.
Stanway,” she continued, re-entering t room,
“the messen er boy is—"

She pause , and looked around her in sur-
prise. The room was unoccupied. Her visitor
was one.

“ hat is certainly a very impolite haste,” she
exclaimed, in a tone of displeasure. “And I
cannot but mistrust this man. That he should
take such a time to press his unwelcome suit! Is
he truly our friend?’

She rung the bell for James.

That dignified indiVidual quickly appeared.

“ Is Mr. Stanway gone?”

“ Yes, ’um.”

“ That will do, James.”

“I must, at all events, send the boy to inform
Mr. Livingston of what has occur ,” she con-
tinued, after James had retired. “ He may be
able to retrieve the plossible danger.”

Meanwhile Sally t e servant girl had returned
to the kitchen. Here she found that her substi-
tute had finished the potatoes. In fact he had
almost finished them in another sense, for there
was about as much potato in the dish of parings
as there was in the potato-pan.

He was now seated beside the range, busily en-

aged in shelling peas. While his hands were

with nonsense to the girl at the ironing-table,
whom he kept in a roar of laughter.

‘ And here comes black-eyed Sally, and now
we’ll know all about it in a jiffy,” cried Harry,
with enthusiasm. “ Ain’t Miss Gordon just
wild now to see me, and wonderin’ why I didn’t
come sooner?” .

“0h es! dreadful wild,” retorted Sally, in a
disdai ul tone. “I hope you don’t fancy that
a born lady like Misa Gordon hasn’t better com-
pany than bootblacks.”

“Ain‘t I good-looldn’?” returned the boy, as
he shelled awa for dear life. “ Don’t every one
call me Han some Harry? And between you
and me,” he continued, drop ing his voice to a
mysterious whisper. “ if she owed what brimg
me here, ahe’d'be wild enough to see me, I pro-
mise you.”

e was rattling away,

VI
r.
I
i
‘Q
‘.

 

M , Handsome Harry. the Bootblack Detective. 9

 

Theyawere interrupted by a hick ull at the
bell. ut Sally had just then t 6 ho saucepan
in'her hands, its contents bein in that critical
state that they could not be eft until after a
minute or two’s attention. '

as» Thus the bell was not immediately answered.
: Miss Gordon, impatient at a delay which might
. > prove dangerous, quickly descended herself to

the kitchen. She opened the door with a rapid
movement, and then halted with a gesture of
i surprise at the tableau presented.

‘ At one side of the kitchen stood Sally, drop-
" ping salt in the hot saucepan with one hand, and
i stirring vigorously with the other, while her
head was turned over her shoulder in some saucy
re ly to Harry.

R‘he girl at the ironing-table was also looking
behind her and laughing, while the scorching
hot iron was doing irreparable damage to rufies
and flounces. / .

As for Harry, he was seated on one chair,
with his feet on another, a deep _an in his lap,
I from which he was actively she] in peas out to
the floor, and carefully dropping t e shells into
i the pan. while his eyes were turned with a com-
,  ical blink toward Sally, Whom he had been busi-

i

 

ly chafling.

The sound of the opening door caused an in-
stant reversal of affairs.

The hot iron sli ped from the fingers of the
laundress, hitting er square] on the toes and
causing her to execute an ndian war ance
5' ‘ about the floor, accomganied with yells of
-. ‘ pain. As for Sally, her ngers went heedlessly

> ‘ into the boiling mess, Scattering it about the
table and floor, while she joined in the war-
dance of her fellow-servant. Harry, the third
member of the party, sprung hastily to his feet,
upsettin both chairs, and sending the peas fig-
ing like illiard-balls in all directions over t e
kitchen floor. . . _

It was certainly a most effective Situation, and
Miss Gordon, despite her momentary sensation
of anger, could not suppress an irresistible im-
pulse to laugh. _
to“ Is thishlfliss Gordon?” asked Harry, the first

re am is senses.

“ Igam not quite sure of that or of anything,
just now,” she replied, still laughing. “ I hardly
thought my coming into the kitchen would ro-

~ duce such a convulsion of nature. What oes

all this mean?” i

“I have willy been trying to amuse the young
ladies,” said arry.

“ Indeed! I should hardly care to be amused
in that way,” she laughinEly m301ned,_as she
saw the older woman on t e floor nursing her
toes, her yells gillpain being reduced  low
moans; while y was running to dip her
scorched fingers into hot water. I .

“ If you produce such a commotion as this in
all the families you visit, I should imagine that

our calls would not be very welcome,” con-
finued Miss Gordon. “Are you the boy who
wished to see me?" .

“I’m 'ust that boy.” he replied. “.Ha
Hunter, tblack, is my name and title.
come here with a letter from Mr. Livmgston,
and I was to take him somethi back from you.

r d I’m afeard I’ve been dish out of both by
I, a floaty-eyed sort ot a teIIOW. Who is mean

 

 

 

 

 

 

enough ;to rob an honest mechanic out of his

wags?”
‘ hat do you mean?”

“ Why if you’d looked at his boots this mornh
ing you (i found them to shine so that you could
have Seen lyour own pretty face in ’em. I put
that lis on ’em, and 6 went back on me
when asked him to pay for the job. But I’ve
got it charged up against him, and if he don’t

ave to pay it get, with forty per cent. inter-
eHst, then the oys don’t call me Handsome
airy

She looked into his bright young face, flushed
With indignation and excitement, and thought
to hefself that the boys were not far wrong in
giving him that title.

“ Come this way, my boy,” she said, leading
up-stairs into the reception-room.

“Mr. Stanway has got thIe package you were .

to take,” she continue am sorry now that
I gave it to him, as I fear it may be delayed in
reaching its destination. I will give you a note
explaining the circumstance, w ich you Ill
take immediately to Mr. Livmgston.”

“ 1 wouldn’t trust Stanway half as far as I
could slin an elephant by the tail,” soliloquimd
Harry, at 1' she ad left the room. “If I can
catch upto him I’ll have that paper at, in some
wa 3r other. But, J erushal ain’t is high old

9
e looked with admiration around the hand-
somely-furnished room.

“ It 5 like walkingi over thick grass,” he con-
tinued, as he move gingerly along the carpet,
that yielded to his tread. And em icters!
And them bronze sojers on the mantle! such

andeur ain’t gist enough to take awaya chap’s

reath, I won] n’t say so.”

Miss Gordon soon returned with a note which
she had written. '
ensued, after which Harry was dismissed, with
in 'unctions to make the greatest haste

or was he sent away without a
was equal to a fortnight’s bootblac ing.

“ I ain’t much given to take money that I
haven’t worked for ” he said. “But I calculate
to can this. And i know it will brin me age
luck to have something in my pocket t at’s n
touched by your prett fingers, and looked at by
your sweet face. So ’m very much obliged to
you Miss Gordon, and you’ll never find me go-
in back on on.”

slight b ush, not unmingled with a look of
pleasure, came into her face at his words. '

“Be off. you young flatterer,” she said, smil-
ingly. “ I fear that you are learning the arts of
the gallant too early.”

It was something more than sur rise that
came into J ames’s face as he was calls to let the
boy out. It was rather astoundment of the most
supreme order. He could not comprehend at all
how the boy had got into the house.

“Good-by, old dignity,” called out Harry as
he left the door. “Best take a double rec in
that nose of yourn, and hang a pound weight _to
the corner of both them eyes, or after a while
you’ll have to he stood on
you want to see the groan .”

He was of! are his antagonist could recover-
from his surprise at this stupendous impudence , ~

meieutly to reply.

i

A few minutes’ conversation

our head every time ‘

ratuity that «

\

 

 
  

    
  
   
  
  
   
  
 
   
    
     
    
  
     

 

  
 
   
    
  
  
  
  
 
    
  
     
   
 
   
  
    
  
 
   
 
   
   
   
   
 
  

_ s

t

f
,r.
.

i .

"i

if

'. V falling.

 ‘ way’s attention.

10”

  

Handsome Harry. the Boot'black Detective.

 

It was not long before Harry again found
himself in a car of the Elevated Railroad on his
return trip. He walked through the train to
see if he could find a car still more to his satis-
faction; and in doing so he made an important
discovery.

This was that Mr. Stanway was on the same
train. The fact is that he had been in no haste
to reach the cars, and Harry had not been many
minutes behind him in leaving the mansion of
the Gordons.

. A new idea came into the boy’s active brain.
Mr. Stanley occupied a seat facing forward.
The seat immediately behind it was unoccupi
This Harry boldly took, satisfied that his foe was

‘ too deeply engaged in his newspaper to notice
who sat near him.

The train was soon swiftly flying onward to—
ward the city.

But Harry ’did not trouble his brains now
about the surrounding scenery. His mind was
too closely occupied about the gentleman who
set before him.

“There’s a dockyment sticking out of the in-
side pocket of his coat,” said Harry to himself.
“ That’s my game, fora brass dollar. I’mbound
to have it, or somethin’s a-goin’ to bu’st.”

"3 ’Station after station was passed, Harry still
vigilantlyr watching for an opportunity. Ere
long they were among the downtown stations.
Mr. Stanwa ceased reading, and began delib-

' erately to fo d his newspaper.

‘ “Park Place!” cried the conductor, while the
train slackenqi its speed.

Mr. Stanwa rose and stepped into the car
aisle, still do in his paper. Harry also rose
and stood behin him. The car gave a slight

- jerk forward as the brakes took firmer hold of

the wheels.

Instantly the boy, as if he had lost his footing,
.plunged forward in the aisle, flinging his arms
around Mr. Stanway, and huggdnglhim closely,
with seeming intention to save imself from
. "‘ Confound your awkwardness! Let go!”

cried‘the gentleman, angrily.
“ Excuse me, I tripped,” said Harry, releasing

‘ ‘ him, and starting for the rear end of the car.

Something in the tone attracted Mr. Stan-

He turned, recognized Harry

‘ at a glance, and with an oath rushed after him.
It was, a quick chase. The train was now nearly
at rest at, the station. The conductor opened
the gate to the our platform just as Harry roach-
ed it. With his usual agility the boy leaped from

. the car, ran hastily to them, and was in an
instant . more going down them six steps at
a time, ten feet in advance of his pursucr.

And in his hand he held the important docu-
ment. which he had managed to abstract from
Mr. Btanway’s pocket during the surprise of the

. latter at being so rudely grasped.

 

I

CHAPTER V.
TOO LATE roa THE MEETING.

THE two hours which Mr. Livingston had
calculated as suficient for Harry’s trip was

 .fied. and the boy had, not yet appeared. In

,two hours were too short a time for his

 

task, even if he had met with no interruptions.
His employer’s impatience had run ahead of his
ijudgment, or he would have realized that it was
mpossible for the boy to be back by twelve, 01'
even by half-past twelve.

Indeed it was not impatience only which made
him nervous and uneasy. There was much more
to be feared than the consequences of a more
ordinary delay, and he felt strongly the neces-
sity of getting the signatures of the merchants
present to the missing paper as soon as possible.

He succeeded in kcepin them together until
past the noontide hour. ut when half—past
twelve arrived, and there were no signs of the
messenger, they grow too restless to be longer con-
trolled.

“ This is about served out,” cried the burly
man at the desk, in a very impatient accent.
“I am willing to be easy with Gcor 0 Gordon,
butI cannot give up my Whole day’s msinoss on
account of the blunders of his agents. Every-
body knows where the establishment of J ones 8:
Brown is to be found. Bring the agreement
there and you can have my signature.”

The door of the room was hastily flung open,
and the figure of a young man appeared in the
opening, his face red as with haste, a pen behind
his ear, and no hat upon his head.

“Mr. Browu,” ho ejaculated, as soon as he
could recover breath, “have you signed?”

“ Not yet Harry,” answered the burly mer—
chant. “ Vhat is wrong?”

“There is nothing wrong if you have not
signed. I only wish to announce that suit has
been entered against the estate of George Gor-
don, in the Rochester courts, for a claim of fifty
thousand dollars, of which we knew nothing.
If you had signed that iron-clad aper, your
hands would have been all tied. s it is, the
man who can push his claim through to judg-
megtfihe liveliest has the best chance for 1115
cas . .

“ By Jove, if that ain’t rich!” exclaimed one
of the merchants. “ And you, Nod Livingston,
have sought to defraud us in favor of this snap
suit. ”

“ It will come to nothing, gentlemen,” said
Livingston firmly, but a little pale. “It 1s a
claim that has not an ounce of foundation, as I
can prove to you.

“ Save your breath to one] your porridge!”
angrily retorted Mr. Brown. “ My claim has
some foundation, then, as you shall see. Harry
Jones, you’re a brick! Come, gentlemen, we are
saved by good fortune from being made the vic-
tims of a swindling trick.”

“ That is falsel” cried Livingston, excitedly.
“ It is George Gordon who has been cheated and
ruined by swindlers and robbers. I do not
blame you, gentlemen, for your hasty action,
but you will be sorry for it yet.”

There was an incredulous and angry look on
the faces of most of the assembly, as they made
their way in a mass to the door.

At no great distance from the front entrance
to the building stood a ‘young man, his shoulder
carelessly set against the corner of a neighbor-
ing store. The smoke of a cigar curled slowl
up from his lips, and a covert smile marked his
face, as he noticed the throng of irritated Inez:-
chants issuing from the doorway of Frice & CO. 5

   

     

 

  

 

‘ Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective.

11

 

store, much like the angry inmates of a bee—hive
when disturbed at their work.

He turned his head away as certain more fa-
miliar faces approached him. He evidently
(lid not care to be recognized. There was little
danger of this, however; they were far too full
of their own ull'uirs to be interested in this idle
smoker, whose only aim in life seemed to be the
burning of a roll of dried tobacco.

lint when, from the number who had come
forth, it was evident that the hive must be near
cinpty, a suddm change came upon this youngr
{'l‘llth‘lllllll. He raised himself from his loung-
ing attitude, lhmg away his half—smoked cigar,
and walked hastily toward the door whence
they were issuing:

“ \‘.'Iiat is wrong, Mr. Mason?” he cried, with
on appearance of concern, to me whom he met
on the stairway. “ The meeting is not broken
no?"

1 " Yes: thanks to our good luck.”

“ But I have the agreement.”

“You can keep it, then, for cigar lighters.
That is all it is likely to be good for.”

The new-comer run quickly up to the room of
the meeting. It was nearly empty. Only a
small group remained, talking earnestly to-
pvtln 1-, while Mr. Livingston stood, his hand on
the desk, looking angry, heated, and as if at an
utter less what next to do.

" Mr. Stairway!” he exclaimed, as the new-
comer entered.

“What is wrong, Mr. Livingston?" asked the
latter. “I was at Mr. Gordon’s this morning,
and have brought the agreement with all possi-
ble haste. Could you not keep them Higetlier'fi”

“It is all up, Mr. Steinway,” returned Living-
ston, in an accent of chagrin. “There is a
bitch in the proceedings: and the document is

' not worth the paper it is written on.”

“You don’t tell me thatl” exclaimed Stan—
way, with evident concern. “ Why, what has
occurred? But here is the unlucky paper.—Hul
where is it? I had it in this pocket. ’

It was his turn now to be surprised. Ho
hastily searched his pockets, one after another.
No trace of the missing document was discover-
able. -

“Well, that is the strangest thing. It must
have fallen from my pocket in the cur.” A sud-
den thought struck him, and he continued. men-
tally: “Alul! that boy; can he have taken it?
—/\nd the letter which I had in the some pock-
et?" Helngain i'ilunged his hnud info the depth

, of his pocket, and grew lividly pale as it came
up empty.

Mr. Stairway turned toward the door, walk—
ing with a hasty but trembling step. His lips
were. blowlless.

“ Why, Mr. Stanway. are you unwell?” asked
Livingston. anxiously.

“No, no,” replied the other. “I was only
vexed at my carelessness. I must go back to
seek that lostgmper.”

“ You need not. It will be of no use,” added
Livingston after him.

But he left the room without paying any at
tention to this remark,

"Well, I didn’t think that Stanway was so
interested in Mr. Gordon’s affairs. He turned

‘ l , as 9,119 agit‘ it had been his own loss, The feet

 

is, I would have suspected him of feeling the
other way, from some things I have seem—But
how come he with the paper! It seems that 1
have been especially unfortunate in my mes—
senger.” A

Mr. Livingston, thus speaking, folloch the ’
last of the merchants from the room.

Meanwhile that messeugrr was occupied in a.
very different ail'air from that (:11 which he had
been employed. Afli'l‘i'H'fllllllfl,‘ fromSinni ny's
pursuit by plunging~ through several streets and
turning; various corners, “'llllUlll} looking uh mad
to see whether or not he was followed, he i'emnl
himself in a quieter :chnuo than the met of
those through which he had ‘nssed.

He stopped a. few minutes to recovrr his.
breath. ant, to dispose of the folded paper v. hich
he still held tightly clutched in his hand. »

“ You can score one for Hurry Hunter,“'ho
said, triumpluuiily, aslier‘rnnmied the rccm cred
document into some inner pi (-l-zct. “Gem: 1’“
forgive Stanwny the! shine-up. But I ain‘t go-
in’ to have him clinsin’ me this way every limo
he sees me. I‘ll salt him worse than ever if he
tries it on again-«But I must hunt up M13.
Livingston now.”

“Here he is, boys!” yelled a youthful voice
at this moment. “ (To for the galoetl. Pile it
into him 1”

Harry looked up quickly at this, to see lel‘ore
him the identical Bill Blunt v. In in he had laid l itt
on the grass that morning. He was accen'ru-
nied by fire other boys of his own size, and ll cy
were all three advancing lrclligerently upon
Hurry.

It was a critical moment. He had no frur
for being pummeled. One quick look nrenu ,~
and he hastily threw off his root, and backt «3 up
against the side of the building near whii h he
stood. .

“ Como ahead, now, my coveys,“ he ('x—
claimed. "One at n time, or all togeilniz I
don‘t care a lig how; for I‘m good enough for a.
dozen such gutter—sniper; us you.” '

VVith‘a howl of anger the three young: rava-
ges leaped at him, clowdinpr in so thnt they im-
peded each other’smovements. They thus in re
forced to strike wildly end at l'fllllll in. Not so
with Harry. He was tlmroinrhly cool and (ol-
lccted. He stiuck back with vim. making M'er
blow tell. For every stroke that rulelud him
he returned two with interest.

“Pile in, my henrtiesl 'l'umble up!" yillcd
Harry, his fists workng away like linnmrcis.
“Come in and give me n INIlll—ll. Wipe llwt
blood ofl.’ your nose, Bill lilunt, or it will rp‘ilo
your dinner. Sail in, sonnics, und gl-l'. your ru-
tious.” ,

His three infuriated antneenists went at him
more madly than ever, striking wiih too mu h
angry viciousness for their blows to be effect 1w.
Despite their numbers Hurry had thendvanlngo
of them in his backing: and in his (‘oolness

“Look out for your nose, little one,” (‘rird
Harry, tapping; that exposed organ in one of “in
foes. "And here‘s to put your eye in men!”
nin’," and he gave the third of his antagonists a
settler in the right organ of vision.

“Come, you rats: what are you stoppingr up
the pavement for?” culled out a passing gcutlow
man

 

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“Three on one; that’s not fair," said another.
“ Let us separate them.”

“Leave them alone.” cried Harry coolly.
“The ’re gettin’ curried down. Here’s Bill
Blunt 5 rations.” v

His fist shot out, taking that young man
square between the eyes, and knocking him flat
on his back in the street.

“ You know I never was a fighter,” continued
Harr . “I go in for peace and quiet, straight
out rom the shoulder. But you fellows can’t
get along without a cooler now and then.”

As he's ke he caught his two remaining an-
tagonists y the hair, one with each hand, and.
brought their heads to ether with a resounding
crack that might have con heard a block away.

Then, bearing them backward, and tripping
up their heels at the same time. he laid the pair
0 them on their backs in the street, beside Bill
Blunt, who was slowly gathering himself to-
gether. '

“If I was ‘a fighting boy now, I might have

whurt some of ou,” sald Harry calmly. “But

I ‘ as long as I ay myself out for a pcaccmaker,
,fyou’re not a-goin’ to get me into any of your

 squabbles. ”

1 And he Walked away with a look of pious
gravit that set all the b standersvof whom
severa had collected—dang ing.

’ “Here’s, your coat, my peaceful boy, don’t

I , leave that,” said one of them.

Harry picked up his coat and put it on, while
his discomfited foes scrambled to their feet, and
skulked sheepislily away.

With his hands in his pockets, and the dignity
of a con ueror, Harry walked from the field of
battle, his stately step starting a fresh burst of
laughter in the bystanders.

“Appears as if I’m never goin‘ to get to Mr.
Livingston; I’ve on so many mules to curry,”
he remarked to imself. “ But what was the
directions he gave me?”

He felt in the pocket in which he had put the
paper given him by Mr. Livingston. But it was
no there. Fancying that it had dro ped out
- during the fight, he turned back. A ter some

r (search he found a scrap which might have been

it, but it had been trampled in the mud until
there‘was no writing distinguishable upon it.
\ “Well, if this ain’t thundering unlucky,

. there’s no use talking," he ejaculated. “It’s all
up, after all my trouble.

rin’, and pea-shellin’, and pocket-pickin’ is

'Just flung away. Mi ht as well have been
playin’ marbles all this time. A jack I was
that_I didn’t look at them directions afore I put
’em in my pocket. Mr. Livingston is dished out
of his document, that’s sure.”

He walked disconsolately onward, making his
way at random toward the eastern side of the
City. Crossing Broadway, he walked carelessly
forward, not heeding or caring where he went.

“If I could only stumble across Mr. Living-
ston now, it would be as good as a treat,” he
said aloud.

, “ If ou had stumbled across him anhour ago
it mig t have been better,” spoke a familiar
V0108 near him.

Harry raised his eyes with a startled glance.
There before him stood the very person of whom

{   spoken,

And all my potater:

 

Handsome Harry, the, Bootblacls Detective;

CHAPTER VI.
A CHANGE or BASE.

“BY the great jollification, if it ain’t Mr.
Livingston himself l” exclaimed Harry, in a tone
of infinite relief. “Well if this ain’t just as
good as a. play. Couldn’t have come straighter
if I’d been shot out of a gun.”

“ And you couldn’t have come more slowly if
you had borrowed the feet of a snail I” retortcd
Livingston, angrily. “You are a sweet speci-
men of an active messenger! And how came
Mr. Stanway to get the paper and send you back
empty-handed?” .

‘ Em ty-handed? Not much!” ejaculated
Harry, is tongue in his cheek. “ "l‘ain’t quite
in that coon’s boots to sell Handsome Harr as
cheap as that. Fact is, sir, I got ambushedy by
three boys, who laid themselves out to lick nio.
Now I wasn’t never no go on a fight, but I
reckon somehow there ain’t as much light in
them galoots as there was. Howsomever that
aren’t the p’int. I lost your directions in‘tho
scrimmage and I was-tacking along here, all
at sea, w en you and me come together,
head on.”

“But did you see Miss Gordon? How came
Stanway with the ‘pa er? And how is it that
you are an hour behm time?”

“ Let’s get around this corner, out of the
crowd, and I’ll tell you all about it,” answered
Harry. “It’s too long a story to be told in a
breath.”

It, in fact, took Harry some time to relate all
he had seen and experienced, during his journey
after the paper. One point only be suppressed,
hardly knowing why—that of the theft of the
diamond ring by Stanway.

“ Well; you are an admirable messenger after
all, Harry; and have done your best,” said‘Liv—
ingston. “I am onl sorry that you are too
late for the paper to e of any use.”

“ 0 use?” cried Harry. in dismay, as he drew
the document from his breast pocket. “Why
ain’t it of no use? It’s here, all 0. K. ”

“ Too late, my boy," returned Livingston, tak-

ing it and slowly unfolding it. “ It is not your

fault though. No one could have done more.”
He held the open sheet before his eyes, and
glanced at its contents. ‘
“ This is it, sure enough,” he remarked. ’
H“ But you have dropped a part of it,”‘rejoined
arry.
In fact, as he opened the sheet, a folded paper

had fallen out, and, caught by the wind, had

fluttered to the ground ten paces away.

Harry hastened to recover it.

“What is that?” asked Livingstone, in some
surprise. “ The agreement 15 all here. ”

“ You’ve at me there,” replied Harry. “All
I know is it fell out of that dokyment that’s in
your hands.”

Livingston took it from the boy’s grasp, and
opened it. It'was folded like a letter.

“Some instructions, perhaps, which Mr. Gor-
don may have added.” he remarked, as he ran
his eye quickly over the written paper.

Harry was lfiokiug him closely in the face as
he did so, and was astonished by his sudden and
extreme change of expression.

“By heavens!” he exclaimed. in a tone that
made passersvby pause and looked, at him our?

 

 

 

 

Handsome Harry. the Bootblack Detective. 13

ously. “ This is worth its weight in gold. Yes,
iifty times its weight in gold. Harry, my lad.
I fancy you’ve unearthed the neatcst rat’s ncst
that was ever built in this great city. Hang the
agreement now. “'c don’t want any signatures.
It' all goes well the creditors can have their hun-
dred per cent. instead of fifty.

Hurry looked on astounded at this unusual
display of emotion.

“ I got it out of a rat-hole,” he. ventured, for
lack of something better to say, “ and that was
Stanway’s pocket.”

“Exactly,” exclaimed Livingston, his face
radiant with delight. “You‘re the premium
ferret, Harry. Rats have no chance before you.”

He seized the boy’s hand, and shook it with
the utmost warmth.

“ I’m glad I’vo toed the mark so square,” said
the pleased boy. “But now, Mr. Livingston, if

on haven’t no ob'ections, I guess I’d best got
ack to business. t’s a boothluck’s duty to be
at his post on a muddy morning."

“One moment, Harry,” returned Mr. Living-
ston, again perusing the letter.

Ho stood for some minutes in deep thought.

“ I Wonder if Stanway suspects your having
the )apers?”

“ hugged him as close as if it had been a
grizzl bear. He might ’spect.”

“ T on I must work with dispatch," exclaimed
Livingston, excitedly. “ Go back to where
Stanway found you this morning. Hero is his
document, which you can return to him if he
asks for it. But you are to know nothing of this
letter.”

“Don’t talk about an oyster, or a’Gyptian
mummy bein‘ dumb.” returned Harry with a
knowing look. “If I ain’t ten times dummer
than the dunnnest oyster that over drunk salt
water, then there’s no use talkin’. Just let old
Stanway try me on.” V

Harry brought the conversation to an end by
walking away, as if he was in haste to give
Stanway a specimen of the possibilities of dumb-
ness.

“ I may need on this afternoon,” called out
Livingston. “ eep in the neighborhood of the
City Hall."

‘ Ay, ay!” came from Harry; who was al-
ready some distance away.

In half an hour more he had recovered his box
from some hiding-place, and was back again,
ready for business, at his morning’s standpoint.

Livingston, left alone, again read the letter,
and struck his knee with an outburst of pleas-
are.

“ If this ain’t the richest find!” he cogitated.
“A regular nugget. But I’ve got to Work like
lightning to play a counterplot on the rascal.
That boy is as sharp as a steel-trap; he may
help mo in my little game. But I must strike
while the iron’s hot. I fancy I will succeed in
saving Mr. Gordon from the ditch in which they
are seeking to plunge him." I

Carefully depositing the letter in his pocket-
book as he spoke, he hastened away, w1th a very
different expression from that With which he
had met Harry.

But, as we have no special business with Mr.
Livingston at present, we will follow the young
gentleman who has just left him.

 

 

“ Shine ’enil Shine. ’cin! Here's your double-
nction, nickel-plated polish!" called out Harry,
in n. cheery Voice.

Harry walked on, whistling heartily, and
keeping an eye 0 en for trade. '

“ llello, Bill B nut, is that you? Stopped that
flood-gate in your nose, did you?”

“All right, Harry," said Bill. “ You’re my
boss. I give in. But don’t open out on this to
the boys. Will you now!” r

“ I wasn’t never a hrag nor a blow, Bil}; you
know that. It’s quits between us."

“ Look out, Handsome Harry,” cried little
Tim, Harry’s young admirer, as he ran up. ,
“ Keep your eyes skinned. Here comes the chap
you marked this morning!”

Harry looked up and saw Mr. Stauway ap-
proaching. ,

“ I’ve run away from him three times today
now,” exclaimed Harry. “ That breaks the
charm. I ain’t goin’ to spend all my life runnin’ '
away from any skulk like him.” '

As he spoke he was vigorously ~ittiug into a
box of blocking, into which he ru bed a brush
till it was swimming with sable fluid.

“Hal I thought I’d find you here!” exclaimed
Stanway, angrily, as he came up.

“Stand back!” cried Harry, warning] . .V “I
haven’t got no sword nor no pistol but I ve got-
tho bootblack’s breech-loading ri e. If you ’
don’t want to catch it on the t’other knee, you’d
best keep off.”

Stanway backed in some dismay from before-

.the dangerous brush, which Harry was brand-'

isliing in the air.

“ ou villainous young houndl” he fiercely
roared. “Where is the piper you stole from
my pocket this morning? f you do not deliver .
it up instantly I will have you in the Tombs be- \
fore an hour." A '

“Stole iti—I wonder!" retorted Harry, still
threatening with the brush. “Who dished me
out of it first? Maybe you’ll tell me that. But
I don’t care for your old, aper. I can’t find
Mr. Livingston, so you can ave it back."

He took the folded document from his pocket,
and handed it over, with a careless swing.

Stanway seized it with the avidity with
which a vulture snatches a morsel of meat. A
look of cxultation was on his face. But it
changed to dismay when he opened the paper
and found that it did not contain the letter.

“ Where is the other?” he cried. . “ There was
a letter caught in its folds.”

“ Was there?” asked Harry. innocently. “It
must be in my pocket, then. And it's not there,”
he continued, after plunging his hand to the bot-
tom of his pocket. ‘

“ You have it, you young thief. I. will search
you or have you searched."

“Keep ofl’l” exclaimed Harry. with swam-
ing sweep of the brush. “ I never say what I
don’t mean. The boys here can search me, if
they‘ve a mind. But it you touch me, see it 1
don‘t make another entry in my day-hook.”

b A]: this dread threat, Mr. Stanway drew
ac .

“ Go for him. boys,” he said. “ I’ll give a dol-
lar to theboy that finds my letter on him.”

There was never a boy of Harry‘s size better
searched than he was, on the‘strength of this

/

 

 ; him.

 

 

14

Handsome Harry; the fiodbisck .‘Detectiv'e.

 

muniflront offer. He stood perfectly still,
while Bill Blunt, little Tim, and one or two
others, went through his clothes, from head to
£00?» .

But there Was no letter to be felindhand they
finally gave it u ) in disgust. Mr. stanway sceni—
ed to be thoroug 1y puzzled. . ..

“ Didn’t I tell you so?” remarked Harry, still
keeping,r the black end of his weapon toward his
foe. “ Maybe it was dropped in the Elevated
when I ulled my dockyment out of your
,pocket. etter go for the conductor of that
there train. Car 24 Sixth Avenue Elevated.
‘That’s what I d do ifl was in your boots. But I
don’t care a fig what you do. You can go to
grass if you want.”

Mr. Stanway made another movement toward
Harry, which the latter repelled by brandishing
his dangerous weapon. , a

The baffled villain stood for a moment in sus‘
pense, then turned on his heel.

“ ' he boy must be right,” he muttered, as be
Well ed away. “ He evidently knows nothing
about it. I must try the car.”

“ Good-by, old slider,” called Harry, after
“ If you ain‘t the eheapest’sold goose that
was’ever hung up in this market I won’t say
' .so. I’ve cut out a good two hours’ business for
you, anyway; and that’ll give Mr. Livingston so
much more time to countermarch on you.”

As he spoke he espied the gentleman whose
name he~had mentioned rapidly approaching.

“ Can you go with me, Harry?” he asked, as he
came‘up.

“ Yes; to Hong Kong, if you say the word.”

“ Then get rid of your box and follow me at
once," and he walked quickly onward.

 

CHAPTER VII.
HARRY PLAYS A DOUBLE GAME, AND WINS.

', AN hour after the date of the close of our last
cha tor, Edward Livingston and Harry Hunter
mig t have been seen traveling in very differ-
ent directions. The first was going up-town in
the“ direction of the Gordon mansion; the
second had crossed the North river at Court-
landt Street Ferry, and had taken a railroad
train for Newark.
' I They are both-on errands of some interest to
.us; but as we cannot follow them both at once,
We Will dispose first of Mr. Livingston’s busi-
ness, and then devote ourselves to the more in-
teresting expedition of our young friend Harry.

The meeting between Alice Gordon and Ed-
ward Livingston was quiet, but there was in it
'an undefined element which rendered it Very

' different from her previous meeting with Hall
Stanway.

' A momentary silence and hesitation was

. brokenlby Alice, who asked, impetuously:

“I am so anxious to‘ learn what has ha

Did the agreement reach you in time?— tear it

r was largely my fault that you forgot it.” Her
eyes were again downcast in momentary con-
fusion.

“I cannot excuse my negligence so easily as
that—by making you responsible for it,” he
anfiw’ered. “I felt like never forgiving my-
se .

'lution among the girls in the kitchen.”

ened. g

 

“ But why? lVas it too latefi’

“ It Was~so far as its main object was emi-
(*el'néi .” I ‘

“V’Vhatl” she cried, growing slightly pole,
“ (lid Steinway—was it purposely delayed?” V V

“ I would not like to accuse any one of that,”
he replied. “There has been a series of mis-
fortunes. he messenger sent for it may
haVG caused all the trouble by his over—zeal.
He took the paper from Stanway: and thou
failed to find me.”

“ Now, that is too bad!” she exclaimed. “ But
Where did you ever come across such a messen—
ger? A handsome little fellow he was; but such
a scapegracel thy be almost created a rege-

he
laughed heartily at the recollection of the scene.

“ e is the King of the City Hall bootblacks.
But there is more in him than that. I in—
tend to make further use of the boy, for I do
not know where to find one smarter, or more
wide-awake.”

“But you said it was too late! Did the
creditors refuse to sign? I fear that my poor
father’s recovery depends on these signatures.”
, “I hope not, Alice. They have not signed.
But all is yet far from being lost.”

“ Why was it that this signature was so very
necessary to-day?” ,

“I wel tell/you,” he replied. “But to do so
I must recapitulate the whole business. Of
course you are well aware that your father’s
threatened failure is through no fault of his.
Very few merchants, in these hard times, could
bear a loss of one hundred thousand dollars, and
be ready to meet their engagements. The loss
of the ship Good-Speed and her cargo, without
insurance, was a hard blow. But the robbery
of these securities was fatal. If we could re-
cover them—” '

“But you cannot recover them,” she inter-
rupted. “ Everything has been done. The
thieves have hidden, their tracks too completely.”

“ I am not so sure of that,” he rejoined. “ In

fact, I fancy that I see a clew now to their trail. 2,

But to return to our subject. After your
father’s creditors had agreed to sign a paper
accepting fifty per cent of their claims, we re-
ceived notice that a suit for a large sum was about
to be entered against him in the Rochester
courts, The claim is a false one, and will never
stand a close investigation. But the creditors
would be sure not to sign adpaper which binds
them absolutely, as ours di , if they knew of
this extra claim. They have heard of it, and
there is now no hope of obtaining their signa-
tures. If they bring suit it will be ruinous.” V

“ But will they? ‘ You spoke just now of some
hope remaining. Her voice had a very anxious
ring. “It is not for myself I care, but for my
poor father.”

“There is hope—hope of regaining the stolen
bonds—hope that the Good-Speed may not be a
total loss. I have not told you all yet, Alice.”

But we will not trouble the reader just now
with what further he had to say. It will all
develop itself in time.

“ I beg,”he said, in conclusion, “that you will
not change your demeanor toward Stauway.
Nothing must be said or done to make him
suspect.” .

 

.‘r-Q".

 

’

 

 

l

Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detectiye. - 15

 

 

 

“ My demeanor is not so very inviting to him
at any time,” she replied, her innate disposition
to morriment showing itself in a smile on her
lips. “ He was here this morning, and—but
there is something I have been forgetting,” she
hastily interrupted herself. “ I, too, have been
robbed, Edward. My jewel casket was care-
lessly left in the parlor this morning. It has
been opened, and my solitaire ring stolen. But
what makes you look so disturbed ?” '

“ New troubles, Alice,” he responded, with a
sickly smile. “ So there is a new addition to
the tale of robberies.”

“ There has been no one there except Stanway
and your messenger boy—-yourself excepted, of
course, and I hardly think it was you,” she
laughed, as if amused at the idea. “ From what

on have told me, I fear that Stanway may have
elped himself to my ring.” .

‘ It may be,” he returned, in a. ‘low, some—

what doubting tone. “ I scarcely think that the
17

“Oh, no! 'I don’t dream of such a thing.
He is too frank, honest and direct. He is no
thief.” .

“ I am glad that you do not think it was he,”
was the rejoinder. “ I should be sorry indeed—
after sending him here.”

But we must dispense with the remainder of
this conversation to follow the boy—0f whose
freedom from theft Livingston was evidently
not nite sure—in his new journey
“ hi h old time I’m having 0 it to—day,” he
cogitatefi, as the rattling train bore him through
the hills that environ Jersey Cit and out into
the wide marshes beyond, water by the snake-
like bends of their sluggish river.

“ Never done so much railroading in one day
in my life before. And it’s goin’ to pay like
wild. Money’s just been a—shOVeling into my
pockets. A month’s shining up wouldn’t hold a
candle to it.”

Leaving the train at Market street station, he
walked up that busy avenue, looking eagerly to
the right and left.

“ I’m retfimuch at sea here,” he muttered,
“ for I didn’t ow any more about this here city
thana cat knows about huntin ’possums; but
I’ve got a tongue in my boa , and I never
knowed the time that I was afeard to use it. I
can ask my way to Simmons street.”

Yet he did not find it so easy to discover
this street byasliing. It was a small, obscure
streethand those he asked had never heard
0 it. '

But by dint of continued questioning, varied
by an application to a city directory, he was
finally enabled to find the street. It was a nar-
row, dirty passageway, running but one or two
blocks, in the most uninviting portion of the

Cl .

tI’twas nearly four o’clock in the afternoon
when Harry reached this new locality. The dn y
continued bright and warm, the treasure of the
sunshine falling here as richly as in the most
aristocratic quarters.

The boy looked keenly around, as he passed
slowly through the streo . _ O

“ o. 27,” be muttered to himself. “ Horn 15
23. Ah! yonder it is; that brownstone palace,

built of brick, with a brownstone door—stop, and

 

the whole business as tumble-down as if it had
gone through an earthquake. Now, if I can
only twig my mun—brown side-whiskers, lon

nose, five feet six, squint in his left eye. 1

I’d see such a chap 111 the dark I’d know him.
But it won‘t do to seem as if I’m on the spotting
game.”

Harry looked eagerly around him, in search
of some excuse to justif his continued presence
in that street. It woult not suit his purpose to
run the risk of being taken for a spy.

Some three doors down the street a group of

boys was collected, busily engaged in a game of ,

marbles. Here was just the opportunity Harry
wanted.

For awhile he stood looking on with one eye
on the game and the other on the house over
which he was keeping guard.

“ That’s not fair,” cried Harry, at length to
the winning boy. “He told you to knuckle
down, and that wasn‘t nary a knuckle.”

“ What do you knew about it?” asked the boy,
angrily, gathering up his winnings. - I

‘I know enough to clean you out of all the,

marbles you’ve swindled these little chaps out
o . ‘

“It ain’t in your boots,” retorted the other dc-
flantlv.

“ All right. Make your rin ,” returned Har— ‘

ry. “ VVe’ll see who‘s brag out who‘s boss.”

In a minute more they were deep in the intri-
cacies of the ancient and honorable game of mar—
bles, with all its mysteries of “ knuckle-down,”

.“ Fen-dubs,” and other strange passwords, bor-

rowed from some of the dead angua es.

But the Newark bov soon found t at he was
a tyre at the game. In Harry1 he recognized a.
master of the art; and the carded marbles
flowed in a steady stream from his pocket to that
of this skillful stranger. '

The younger boys looked on withexclamations
of delight, as they saw that their victorious foe
had met more than his match, in this wonderful
stranger.

“ Perr it into him I” cried one of them eagerly.
“ He’s on a-scorching us, and a-bragging over
us. It’s about time somebody was a-taking the
starch out of him.”

“ Get out of the way, you little devils!” called

out a harsh voice, as a broad-shouldered man '

pushed his way through them.

4

Harry was on his knees, taking a difficult ‘

shot, but he stopped long enough to look up at
the man. ,

Sidowhiskers—long nose—the soulnt not visle
ble—but Harry missed his shot. His 6 es fol-
lowed the mnn, who wnlkcd boldly to t 0 door
of No. 27, and entered without ringing.

From that time forward the fortunes of the
game varied. Harry’s shots Were not near so
marvelous as before, and his antagonist begun
to get back some of his lost marbles.

“I believe my band’s getting out of order,” '

remarked Harry. ,

He did not deem it necessary to explain that ’

marbles were now occupying only one-half of
his thoughts, and thatvictory never comestrom
half—hearted work.

He continued 10 play, however, his small ad-
mirers lapsing into silence as fortune turned
against their champion, and the flow of marwa

VJ

\

 

[16 . Handsome Harry. the Bootblacl; Detective.

 

began to ebb back into the pockets of his antago-

st.

A half-hour more passed in this hotl -con—
tested ame, at the end of which time arry
rose to is feet with a yawn.

“ There, I’m tired-out playing,” he said.
“You chaps can finish the me.” And he dis-
tributed the remainder of ' winnin s amen
his laddened partisans. “ Play like did an
you 1 warp him yet.”

Harry walked quietly awa , leaving a buzz of
Excitement at his unexpecte generos1ty behind

v 1111.

r There was more reason for this sudden move-
ment than the boys dreamed of. The lon -nosed
man had just emerged again from the oor of
No. 27, and turned with a rapid step down the
street, in the opposite direction to that in which
he had come he ore. -

He held in his hand a large leather pocket-
book, which he carefully placed in some interior

.p‘g'cket, as he hastened onward through the
5

eat.

Harry followed, with a lounging step, and a
careless manner, gradually letting the man get
about half a block in advance of im.

This interval was kept up, as pursuer and pur-
sued passed through street after street, con-
stantly tending toward the Market street depot.

As they drew near this place Harry hastened
his footsteps. The man entered the waiting-
room, which was already well occupied, and
which our young trailer walked into a minute
afterward. The man was examining the time-
table, his foot tapping the floor with an impa-
tient sound.

Har coiled himself up on one of the seats,
and loo ed at anything except the man who was
most of all in his mind.

i There was no great occasion for impatience.
fiatl‘ail; 1(13am:a sileng vvithinti'lfteen minutea.)
rry o ow is unsuspec m uarry in

the cars, taking a seat just behin balm.

He noticed that, are they had gone far, the
man took the leather book from his pocket, and
opened it with a slightly nervous movement.

He seemed anxious to see if its contents were
all right. Harry’s keen eye shot thro h the
narrow opening, and caug t a glimpse 0 some
shining, parchment—like papers, ere it was closed
and returned to the pocket of its holder.

. - The pursuit continued to the ferry-boat, and
to the streets at New York, which they reached
about half-past five o’clock. I
. The man walked up Courtlandt street to
Broadway, and for some distance along this
busy avenue. He turned off at the post-office,
and made his way out toward the Bowery.

Harry was now on his own stamping ground,
and readily followed his man without any dan-
ger of discovery in the crowds which were on the
street at that hour of the afternoon.

‘Going some distance up the Bowery, he at
length turned off at a. narrow side-street He
had not gone far down this- when he paused and
turned into a. lo -browed ale-house, which occu-
pied the corner of two streets.

“ Holedl” cried Harry to himself, in exnlta-
tion. “And now I'd give a dime to see Mr.

ringston.”

 

CHAPTER VIII.

ANYTHING FOR HOGAN.

HARRY was not one to wait long for things to
turn up}. He was more inclined to turn things
up for imself. The windows of the establish-
ment within which his man was lost to View
were partly screened by green blinds, but there
was an open space 01’ an inch in width at the
bottom, through which the keen-eyed boy man-
a ed to get a glimpse of the inside.

he man stood at the bar, talking with the
barkeeper. After a moment Harr saw ,the
latter ass out a folded note, which his ill-
favor customer hastily opened, and read its
contents.

The boy was not very favorably situated for
close observation, yet he distinct] saw that the
reader changed countenance, an seemed to be
annoyed.

Crushing the note in his hand, he entered
again into conversation with the man behind
the bar, and for a few minutes they continued
in earnest talk. He then walked back by a side
door behind the bar, leading to the interior of
the house.

Harry did not know just what to think of
these movements. He backed oil? and looked up
at the front of the house, with something of the
same hope of getting at its contents which a
reader has when he examines the title pages of a

k.

“ If I seen a man with a face like that house
I’d think he wanted watchin’,” soliloquized Har-
rg'. “It’s got a reg’lar hang-dog look. Iibet
t ere’s more passes over that bar than ale, or
half-and-half. Let’s take a uint round the
corner, and see what kind of a ace it makes at
the other street.”

His squint round the corner told himmore
than he had calculated upon. It showed him
that he had been on the plaint of losing the
game which he had so we played upto this
point. For there, not twenty yards from the
corner, was the familiar brown coat and em-
browned neck of the man he had beenpursu-

1n .

The latter had apparently, left the house
from the rear, an was hurrying away from the
localit at a rapid ace. Harry’s quick eye
caugh in his hand he glint of white paper, as
if he still held there the note which he had
crushed in his grasp.

“ By Jiminy, if I wasn’t as near as a hair be-
in’ throwed,” e'aculated the boy, as he hastened
onward down t 9 narrow street. “ That chap’s
just as keen as a cucumber; but Harry Hunter
ain’t to be flung as easy as you’d throw off a.
chestnut-burr.”

The man looked cautiously around several
times, in seeming dread of being watched, but
his pursuer walked on with a steady. bold step
as if home and a warm supper were foremost
things in his thoughts. ’

In this way the distance between them quickly
diminishedf It decreased still more rapidly
when Harry at length broke into a. run. The
man just then halted, and gave a cautious
glance backward, partly turning to the left. In

his relaxed right hand the crushed note was ‘

plainly visible.
\

 

 

“o  .«s- 4.»-7 . .......a._..:., .4 5-..,N5‘ .

an-Nne...\.u;)dv .

“ looked around t

' Handsome Barry. (10 Dcotblack Detective. 1‘5

As he pained, Harry, who was quite near, ran
against him with almost force enough to dash
him to the ground. This collision was n'inci-

)ally against his right side and arm, and gave
nn a staggering inclination to the loft,1‘rom
which he with difficulty recovered.

Harry fared still worse, for he tumbled head—
long on the edge of the sidewalk, only saving
himself from injury by his flung-out hands.

A fierce oath broke from the man’s li s.

“ You blundering young hcathenl' be ex-
claimed. “I’d servo you right for your awk-
wardness by kicking you info the gutterl”

“Yes; you're a bi h old aristocratic coon,
you arel” grumbled arry, as he slowly'scram-
bled to his feet. “ Nobody with a grain of com-
mon sense would sto in t
ment so that every yin a hurry must come
buttin up ag’in’ him. uess you’ve been brung
up in t e country and fed on buttermilk.”

The man seem still dubious as to whether or
not he owed the boy a kick, as the latter limped
away, grumbling to himself as he went. In a
minute more Harry disaplmared around the
next corner.

The man, after a moment’s hesitation, has-
tened on, saying to himself:

“ I’ll be shot if I didn’t think it was a batter-'

ing—ram taking me in the backl That boy must
be as solid as cast-iron. I’d like to pay him out
with a foot-lifter yet. But, by the great guns,
what’s become of my letter?”

His right hand, in which he had held the
crushed note, was emptfi’.

Starting hastily bac , he examined the spot
where the collision had taken place, as nearly as
he could remember, the exact locality. But no
trace of the lost note was Visible.

“ That blasted boy must have knocked it out
of my hand,I suppose,” he muttered. “And it’s
likely the wind finished the job. Let it go.
Nobody could make out what it means, that’s
some comfort. I must slide on.”

When Harry a. minute or two afterward.

he corner behind which he had
hidden, the man was gone, He had turned
back. or taken some other course. Search as he
would the boy could not again get sight of him.

“ I thought he was comin’ straight on,” con-
sidered Harry, as if in apology to himself. “ If
he ain’t flung me right out and out—and I
thought I was sharp! Anyhow I’ve got this,”
and he looked at a pieCe of white paper in his
hand. “ I don’t go to plowin’ up the curbstone
for nothin’, anyhow.”_ _

The boy occupied himself 1n flattening out the
crumpled piece of aper, as be. walked quickly
onward. It open at length, into the shape of
a half-sheet of note paper, partly occupied by
writing.

“ It was near here I was to meet Mr. Living-
ston,” he said, after ten minutes’ walk. “ Ah!
there’s the spot, just ahead. And there he is
himself!” I _

“What luck, Harry?” asked Mr. Lmngston.
starting forward from the spot where he had
been impatiently waiting. ‘I could not find
the place mentioned in the letter, and have been
waiting here for the last hour.”

“Good and bad luck, the had mixed through
the good like raisins m a puddm’,” nnswm-ed

0 middle of the pave- "

 

Harry with a shrug. “But I’ll tell you all
about it, Mr. Livingston.” ~

It took Harry some ten or (il'icen minutes to
get through the story of his adventures. He
ended by saying: ,

“ I lost him; but I got his letter. I knocked
it out of his hand, and grabbed it when I was
down buttin’ my head ag’in’ the pavin’ stones.
Here it is; and I ho )o thcro’s somethin’ in it.”

Livingston read t 0 note handed him, with a.
curious expression.

“ There may be something in it,” he remarked,

“ but I don’t just make it out.”

“Spin it out so I can hear it,” returned
Hairy. “Two heads is better than one, you
know.”

Livingston read as follows:

"You must be wary. There‘s danger afloat. Strike
for new uarters, and leave word with Tim. ‘Any- ‘
thing for logau,’ will be the pa“ sword. I will be on ‘
your track when sure my own is clear. S."

“That is a decidedly mysterious document,”
said Livingston. “ that does it all mean?"

“S’pose it means that Mr. Long-nose is to
leave word at the ale-house where he’s strikin’
for. And ‘anything for Hogan’ is the pass-
word that’s to unlock the honest bartender’s
tongue."

Livingston remained a momcnt lost in thought.

“I ima rine you are right,’7 he then replied.

“ We wil try it on him at all events. It may
protve the ‘ open sesame’ to let us into their so— ‘
are S. ‘

In a short time they wore in front of the alc-
house. the scene of Harry’s late adventure. Ho
looked again through t 0 open slit at the win-
dow bottom. ‘

“ The coast is clear.” he announced. “ Now’s
your time. But that’s a cunninl-looking chap. i ‘

ou’ve got to be Wide awake.”

Without replying, Mr. Livingston entered the! 
open door of the tap-room, and passed around
the screen which stood just within it.

The rough-faced man behind the bar stirred
himself at the prospect of a customer.

“ Good—evening,” was Livingston’s address. \

“ Good-cv’nin’ yoursol’,” returned the man, in
a strong old-country accent. '

“A noggin of ale,” ordered the customer.

“That‘s the brew for a men of taste,” ro-
sponded the barkeeper, seizing a deep goblet.

“ Draw one for yourself then,” answered Liv-
ingston. . “ We’ll drink together to the health of
good old nut-brown ale."

The bartendor’s rough face showed marks of
content, as he hastened to draw and place on
the bar two foaming goblcts, with the froth
streaming down their earthen sides. ‘

“ There’s tipple for a king,” he said. ,

“ Can’t say that I’m so particular," remarked
Livingston, as he lifted the brown mug, and.
looked at the foaming froth-cap. “Some folks .
are hard to please; bu‘ for me, my motto is’— ‘
‘Anything for Hognn.’ ”

This was spoken in an indifferent tone, but ‘
there was a keen intelligence in the look which
he gavo the bartender.

The latter slightly started, and glanced can-A ‘
tiously toward a man who sat at a table on the
other side of the room, quietly sipping his ale.”

“That’s well put, where the brew’se slack" .

‘0

\

 

 

\Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detectiva. -

 

’un ” rejoined the bartender. “ Some sich top
as ill Lathrop’s, or J akc Blembery’s, or say Joe
Tod’s, at Prince and Apple streets. But it dun-
not apply to my ale.”

There was a peculiar expression of the barkeon
er’s countenance accompanying the name of Joe
Tod, which told Livingston that he was intended
as an answer to his signal.

But it was not his one to take seeming notice
of it. He uietly sipped his ale, with an air of
great satis a’ction.

“ Prime, that’s a fact,” he said.

“I’d anotion ye’d come to that ’pinion,” re-
spOnded the pleased bartender.

\ With a few more words Livingston took his
leave, and sauntered slowly from the room.

“ Any luck?” asked Harry, eagerly, meeting
him ‘ust beyond the door.

“ es. The new rendezvous is to be at an
ale-liouse, kept by one Joe Tod, at the corner
.0 _

“ Not another word!” cried .Harrv, gleefully.
“Why, I know Joe Tod as well as I know my
finger-nail.”

“ That’s good. Our man is very likely there

_ now. It is not far from here, and we’d better go
at once. ”

It was not long before our brace of con-
spirators found themselves in front of another
ale-house. ‘

This was a more wide-awake establishment
than the one they had lately left, the house he—
rixeig taller and fresher, and the sign new and glit-

, ring. ‘

The name of “Joe Tod’s Retreat” stared our
friends in the face, as they halted in front of
this hostelry.

“ Here we are on the outside. But that is far
from being the inside,” remarked Mr. Living-
ston, in a dubious tone. “What’s to be done
next?" / »

“Why, to go in, and go through that sumptu-
ous mansion,” said Harry. ‘

' “But how? It might be objected to."

“ Leave that to me. I’ve got a key that will
unlock every door in that shanty; and a pass-
'word that will take me to every room.”

‘1 “I do not understand what you mean,” re-
turned the doubting Livingston.

“ It's the bootblack’s latch-key,” replied Har-
rv, “the box and brush. And the pass—word is
the bootblack’s cry.. Shine ’em! Shine ’oml I
wouldn‘t be areard to try Queen Victory’s

lace with that—Here, J em, lend me your box

or five seconds.”

This was addressed to an acquaintance in the
same line of business with Harry, who was just
then passing.

He readily made the loan requested, and Har-
ry went singing into the tap—room, giving vent
to his cry of “Shine ’em! Shine ’em!” as soon
as he was fairly within.

"‘ Not to—day, Harry,” said the landlord, a
rubicund-visaged personage, who seemed the
embodiment of good humor and good living.

“ Maybe some of your friends here?” con tinned
Harry, looking around the room. “Ain’t there
nobody wants an overshot, double-barroled
polish? Don’t speak all at once.”

Nobody took the trouble to speak at all, and

', ,‘ Harry shouldered his box again, exclaiming:

first»

i .

 

 

“I never see’d so many salted sardines More,
packed in one box. And there ain’t a pair of
shoes among you that’s smelt blocking for a
good six mouths—All right, if you ain’t got no
respect for yourselves, I won’t try to carry you
on my conscience. I’m a—goin’ through the
house, J 00 Tod. Maybe I’ll find somebody there
that’s been brought up in ’spcctable society.”

“Very well,” said the smiling landlord, “try
your luck.” ‘

Harry went whistling back into the house.
He had noted every face in the bur-room. There
was no trace of his man among them. Instead
now of going into the roar rooms, for a chat
with the girls, as Joe had expected, Harry made
his way upstairs. He thought it possible that
the man he sought might have taken one of the
upper rooms.

“ Shine ’eml Shine ’eml” cried Harry, as he
opened door after door.

The reoms were empty, and he went on from
one to another, still with the ringing war—cry.

He finally reached a door at the extremity of
title passage, where it opened upon a view of the
s reet.

This door he flung open with the same reckless
boldness as before.

At last he had struck oil. There, standing on
a chair, at a high closet in a corner of the room,
was the familiar form of the long—nosed man.
He was reaching up to the highest shelf of the
closet, but dropped his arm, and turned sudden-
ly on hearing the door open.

“ Who in the blazes is there?" he ejaculated.

“ Shine ’eml Shine ’em l” sung out Harry.
“ Give you a ripstaving polish. Get down and
give me a fair chance at them there dirty boots,
and see if I don't make them shine like silver.”

“ You thundering catamaran of an im' udent
young hound, if you don’t take your ug y face
from ere before a frog could croak his prayers,
blast me if 1—”

He had sprung to the floor as he spoke. Harry
jerked the door quickly to, cutting 01]? his long
threat in’ the middle.

He ran like a deer down the passage; and
none too soon, for a boot-jack came flying after
him ere he reached the head of the stairs.

‘5.What luck?” asked Mr. Livingston, as Harry
emerged whistling into the~street, a minute
afterward.

“ Just the best. I’ve a notion our rat’s holed.
Here’s your box J em. Git, now, you young
rascal, and don’t be losing jobs.”

CHAPTER IX. 

MR. GORDON TAKES A HAND. I'NTEE GAME.

HARRY had every right to sleep soundly that
night, for his day’s work had been a busy one.

And there promised. us busy labors for him
during the coming day; not only from the part
of his work left unfinished, but from new com-
plications which were gathering around his do.
voted young head.

 

But we must seek again the mansion of the '

Gordons on the morning of the next day.

And we shall now be obliged to make the ac-
quaintance of Mr. Gordon, the ruined merchant,
whom the business troubles had so prostrated.

He was much better this morning. He had
slept well during the night, and his nervous

ailing; '

 
   

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Handsome Harry. the Boothlack Detective. 19 I

 

prostration seemed greatly relieved. He was
seated in a deep easy-chair, enjoying the sini-
light that flowed in at the open window his
lioworml dressing-gown rlowing like a one
purterre in the morning g ow.

Ho was a handsome, full—faced man, with
smnething arbitrary about his mouth, though
kindliness encircled his wide blue eyes.

“ What keeps Alice?" he muttered to himself,
impatiently, as his glance sought the door.
“ She should have been here ten minutes ago.”

He looked at his handsome gold watch, as if to
satisfy himself of the extent of her delay. At
the same instant the door opened and Alice en—
tered. But before doing so she thrust into her
pocket an open letter which she had held in her
hand. There was a pale, agitated look upon her
features, and a. suspicion of tears about her
eyes, evidence of a mental trouble which was
with difliculty sup )ressed. .

“Why, what ai.s the girl?” he asked, With a
look of concern. “ Here she is half as pale as a
ghost, and~”

“Oh, it is nothing, )apa,” she exclaimed, ten-
derly kissing him. “ am glad indeed to see you
so well this morning. And I do hope you’re go-
in;: to be your own old self again.”

“Me! Why of course I am, child!” he re-
turned, with the testiness of an invalid. “But
what has happened to my Alice? It is no trou—
ble with the girls, I hope. I will send them all
packing if they worry you. Or is it that ring?
—James told me that your ring was stolen.”

“ch, papa,” she quickly responded, appar-
ently glad of some excuse to stop his inconveni-
ent questioning. “It is too bad! However, I
presume that I can do very well without it.”

“But, girl, lost for once is not lost forever,”
said the positive invalid. “There have been
things found before, and that may be too.”

“Yes, yes, papa; it may come back to me, I
know,” sher‘hurriedly rejomed, as if not satisfied
with the turn the conversation was taking.
“Never mind the ring—we can talk about that
again. At present—”

“ Let’s settle the ring question before we go
drifting off into the land of nowhere,” he posi-
tively protested. “There is no keeping you
women long enough to one point to get it deli-
nitely out of the way. You have such a bad
habit of drifting 011’. Now if we merchants did
business in that Way—” and he shook his head
in indication of What disastrous consequences
might come from doing business in that loose

way.
If it hadjbeen any one else Alice might have
been tempt)? to say that his own way of doing
business not been a. great success; but she
kept silent. .
“It was careless in you to leave your. jewel

. casket in the reception-room,” he continued.

“I learn from James that there were but three
persons in the room while the casket was there.
Those were Livingston, Stanway, and an impu-
dent beggar of a boy. Who was he, Alice?”

“ He was a. messenger sent me by Mr. Ll Vina.-
ston. after something which he had forgotten.”

“ But who? What was his name?”

“ He called himself Harry Hunter. Ho was
a bootblack. whom Mr. Livingston engaged at
the City Hall.”

 

“ Isn’t it plain enough then, child?” asked the
{0,319.13 1n Vexation at her lack of shrewdness.
‘. tanwa nnd Livingston! Tho idea 01’ theft

is prepos ronsns amncctcd with then1——thut ,
boy has your ring. Nothing can he more evi- ’

dent than that.”

“ No. no,” she hurriedly responded. her pallor
deepening. “ The boyislionost. You have cal
to look in his face to see that he is honest. I
hope you will not trouble yourself about the
ring. nLot it go. Do not worry . yourself, dear

apa. »
“ All Very nice,” was his querulous res onso.‘
“ Of course, we are all honest. I, and amcs.

and the girls. and everybody. All the world is ‘

honest, and that remarkable ring walks oil on
its own legs.”

“ Now, pa , dear, on will vex me ever so
much if you Keep thin ‘ing about that old ring.

Do let us talk of something else.” She seated -

herself in his lap, and threw her arms loViugly
around his neck.
shine. No diamond was over half so beautiful
as that.” ”

Mr. Gordon answered with a mollified growl,
as if not half content to bo coaxed out ofa
sweet morsel.

“ You are the most outrageous little coax,

 
 

\

“ Let us talk about the sun~_ ‘

and I am the most ridiculous old hinny ” he‘ ’

grumbled, as he kissed her sweet lips. ‘ But
what chance has a man to keep business in his

head. when he is persecuted by such fairies as '

on?”

But Alice had gained her point and carried
the conversation away from a subject, which,
for some reason, she wished to avoid. In a half-
hour afterward she left her father, apparently
in self—satisfied content. '

But the pallor and agitation returned to her,

face as soon as the door had fairly closed behind
her. She took the letter a ain from her pocket,
reading; it with eyes that g istened as if with a
dew of tears. '

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed.

wildl That lie—that Edward! I can scarce be-
lieve it: even in his own Word.”

Reachin'r the parlor she fell in a nerveless at- ‘

titude upon a sofa, her eyes again perusing that

“Can it‘bea'l
Can it be? The shock is enough to set my‘hrain . V

letter, which was apparently the cause of her .

overwhelming distress. She crushed the epistle
in her hands, and pressed them to her mois ened
eyes. as if she wished to shut out every vision of
a. hateful world.

Meanwhile Mr. Gordon had returned to the
subject from which she had sought to divert his
attention.

“ Alice is entirely too simple-minded,” he said.
“She is old enough to know more of the world:
but one cannot well gain wisdom without ex-

rieuce. That boy stole the ring. Of that there
18 no doubt. H 0 must be arrested and committed
for the theft.” . »

He rung the hell for James, and sent him. 0
into the city to enter a charge of theft against
Harry Hunter at the police court, and procure
a warrant for his arrest. When taken he was
to be thoroughly searched. If the ring was not
found upon him, or at his residence, then Miss
Gordon and the servants were to be notified to
testify against him. Mr. Gordon was sure that

  

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. r'i‘fj’y““~‘é'ff .

 

‘ Stanway’s

m, “Qwemfi..-” *&,,..s.-_...w,n.a_.,v

, needed for some time.

91 

v, w,

I ‘20 fiandsome Harry. the Bootblack Detective.

 

a commitment would force him to dislodge the
stolen roperty.
Ear 1y was this order given, and J amcs sent

I out for its accomplishment, when Mr. Gordon re-

ceived a visit from Mr. Livingston, who ox-
ressed himself as heartin gratified to observe
his improved condition. r

“I wish to report girogress,” remarked the
visitor, after some wor s of greeting had passed.
‘5 I have news for you, both good and bad, if you
feel in condition to receive them. ”

“Certainly, Ned,” replied Mr. Gordon, with
whom Livingston was a favorite. “The good
can serve as an antidote for the bad.”

“Hardly ” rejoined Livingston, “ for the bad
is a fixed act, and the good only a prospect.
However, 1you would probably prefer to judge
for, yourse f.”

He proceeded to relate the events of yester-
day, except that he avoided the introduction of
Stanway’s name, or any account of the ursnit
of the lost papers. It was not advisable have
too many confldants before their business was
accomplished.

As a part of this revelation he read to Mr.
Gordon the letter which had been taken from
ocket, though he avoided telling
him from w at source he had obtained it.

It ran as follows:

. “ 27 Simmons St., Newark.
“ Dana sum—7 _

“I got yourn all rite. but its plade out, and I ain‘t
a-gfne to kepe them plagiuey dokkyments no longer
be 0W. Thar ain’t not in‘ in them for me sept
what I got now, and I‘m bound to unlode. There’s
beue some coons smellin‘ round this strete aready,
and it old Gordon‘s got wind of our trac 1t mote be a
ten yearer fur me in a stou jug. An’ thet won’t go
down. I’m a comin’ over to Tim Coiu’s Old Ba y
afore six to nite with ther dokkyments, an‘ I fspect
you to mate me thar and saddle them yourself if you
ain’t a b’ilinl over fur trubbel. Cos I’m not gom’ to
sing in a ston cage to elite nobody. ,

“Your Spectful Sarvent,
“JACK Bananas.”

.It was this precious epistle which had put
Livin ston on the track of the stolen bonda;

r thong it was pure Greek to Mr. Gordon until
' his visitor had explained his conception of it,
v and what measures he had taken. ‘As we have

said he took care not to explain these very defi-

' ‘nitely, lest Mr. Gordon, in spite of his promised

caution, mi ht prove too communicative. It is

possible,’ in eed, that he would not have said

anything of the matter, had he known that
Stanway was even then in the house.

The latter person was, in fact, calling upon
the daughter, while his rival was closeted with
the father. '

It was with a forced self-control that Alice re-

_ ceived'him. She/ had promised to be cautious in

her demeanor toward him; though, for reasons

- which had come to her since, she distrusted Liv-

invston’s accusation of his rival

.‘ The whole matter really lies in a word,”
said, Stiuway, after their conversation had pro~
“ I am devoted toiyou
and to your father, and will do all I can for you.
But I cannot say that my devotion to you is the
guiet one of friendship. What I said yesterday

will not un‘say to-day.” ’

r - “ Nor I," she answered briefly and coldly.

\

n.

/

 

“ I am sorry, then, if I am reopening a SlllF
jeot distasteful to you. Believe me that I would
not do so without an object. I have something
to offer you in turn for the gift of your love7
Alice.” v

“ \Vhat?” she chillingly asked.

“ Your father’s safety. I have learned much
since I left you yesterday. I will not say that I
can save his fortune. But if you will but give
mo a promise, a hope, of this dear hand in case
of success, I will work as no hero ever worked,
and be content to lose it in case of failure.”

“ Is it on the principle that they who hide can
find, Mr. Stanway?” she asked with a stern, ac-
cusing intonation, that made him start despite
himself.

“ What do you mean, Miss Gordon?”

His tone was pained and wondering.

“ Only that performances are sometimes as
cheap as promises,” sho haughtily answered.
“ And this more I will say—the man who truly
loves acts first and appeals afterward. I de-
cline to sell myself to Hall Stanway, or to any
man.”

She was sweeping with an air of grand hauteur
from the loom, when his next words arrested
her steps.

“ Some one has been belieing me!” be ex-
claimed, “Was it Ned Livingston, that false—
hearted mcrldler, who has already—”

She half-turned, with an indescribable look
upon her face.

“Edward Livingston is no more to me than
are you,” she interrupted, a deep tremor in her
voice. “Hardly as much. You have no more
occasion to fear him as a rival than he has to
fear you."

She turned againto the door, but paused with
an involuntary start. _

For there stood Livingston, his face full of
pained astonishment, his hand graspin the door

rame with a clutch as if to hinder im from

falling. A rifle-shot could not have shocked
him more deeply than had those few disdainful
words. ’ ' ’

“Alice!” came in tremulous accents from his
white lips. He could say no more, but his eyes
spoke volumes.

What had come upon her? She bent upon him
a look like that basilisk glance of old, that turn-
ed men into stone. There as deep pain in those
eyes; but there was un enchable Scorn—not
anger; it had nothing in it of the transient gleam
of anger. .

Livingston loosed his hold of the door, and
staggered like a drunken man when she had
passed him and disappeared.

“ Great Heaven 1” came in low tones from his
lips; “ is she or am I mad?”

A cynical curl marked Stanway’s lips as he
looked upon this scene.  -

“ Perhaps she is coming to her senses,” he said,

as he also passed from the room.
' There was a sneer in his voice that almost
tempted Livingston to strike him. The as-
tounded lover looked after his insulting rival
for 23 moment, while a new light broke upon his
nun . ‘

“ It is you. then!” he cried; “ you that I have
to thank for this sudden change! You that
have poisoned her mind with some deep false-

..-l.. a“;

Winn-“4A., .
‘ .

~  -0-.~.~

we»... ma..._. .
1

f!

" foller ’em if they do

Handsome Harry, the Bootbluck Detective. 81 «

 

hood against moi Beware, Hall Stanwayi my
turn will come! No lie can live in the presence
of truth.”

The sneering villain failed to hear these words.
He passed on into the house, while Livingston,
staggerin like one who has received a. heavy
blow, wal 'ed slowly down the stairs and from
the house.

Had he dreamed of the lack of discretion in
Mr. Gordon he would not have left so soon.
Stanway was with him less than ahalf—liour, yet
in that time the invalid had let out, hit by hit,
every word of the revelation which Livingston
had made him.

The latter had done wrong in not warnin g him
specially against Stanwuy, in whom Mr. Gordon
had every confidence. He had done wrong, in
fact, in making him his confident at all, if his re-
velation was to he partial. The only evidence of
wisdom ho had shown was that of concealing
the details of his discovery; so that. when Stan
way soon afterward left the house, he was stun—
ned and frightened at what he had heard, but
did not know just what course to take to haflle
his unseen pursuers.

CHAPTER X.
HARRY IN AMBUSE.

“ THIS is just the weight of my ’ inion,” re~
marked Harry Hunter, in the tone 0 an oracle,
to Mr. Livingston, who had lately joined him.
“ If we ain’t sharp as pins and needles them
coons will play some carom on us yet. Now I
think you’d better keep a wide-awake eye on
Tim Coin’s ale-house and see if anything turns
up. And I’ll go to J’oe Tod’s and rumigate that
room till there won’t be a. shadder left in it.”

Harry was decidedly taking the business into
his own hands. He had more reasons than one
for this, One was a thorough confidence in his
own ability, and in the sure working of a plan
which lay dormant in his brain. The other was
that Mr. Livingston seemed strangely ireoc-
cupied and gloomy, and quite unfit for sue deli-
cate business as they had now on hand.

“ It's likely old Stanway will, he scooting
round here: or it might be Mr. Long-nose. You
You must ’scuse me, Mr.
Livingston, but you don’t seem to have enough
bizness in ou to—day to sell ’taters by the small."

“You ad better accept excuses from me,
Harry," said Livingston, with a sicle smile.
“ I am not myself to-day. , But I think I can do
what you wish, and will give you the chance to
try our luck with Joe Tod.” _ ‘

“ on see, J 09 knows me like a breeze,” re-
marked Harry. “ I’ve got my box this mornin’,
and this is J oe’s blackin’ day. While I’m polish-
in’ his shoe-leather, see if 1 don’t tie some sort of
a bow-knot in his brain-pan. I’m a—gom’ through
that house, or I’m goin’ to make Rome howl; you
may bet your empty pocket-book on that. Here
goes for ’em.”

And throwing his box over his shoulder, Har-
ry strode off,whist1ing Little Buttercup’s song
in Pinafore till the very street resounded again.

“ I wonder if Long-nose has been back for his
dokkyments,” Harry asked himself, as he halted

, in front of Joe Tod’s, and gave it a scrutinizing

once. “The best way to find out, I s’pose, is
go go in and see, So here gins,"

 

It was to the tune of the Admiral’s song that
our young friend marched into Joe Tod‘s hostel-
ry. One would v have thought, by the Way he
rattled it off, that he had himself been brought
up to “ polish up the handle of the big front
door.” instead of to polish up the uppers of his
countrymen’s boots and shoes.

“ Here you are, Joe Tod,” cried the boy, as ho .
flung his box on the floor. “ Rattle out your
boots, for I’m a.~:.1:oin7 to shine you n till your
grandmother won’t know you. Scei she drn’t
swearit’s the Duke of Durham, or some (i114 r
big nohby that’s tryin’ to play it off on her?
And you won’t go along the streets without all
the young ladies wantin’you to stop, so they can
see their pretty faces in them looking-glasses on
your feet.”

“ Dry up there, now,” returned the landlord,
laughing. “ You’ve got more blow in you than
a ten-knot breeze. Shine away, but put a‘clap—
per on that talking—box of yours.”

“Do you want me to bu’st?” asked Harry,
indignantlv, as he worked away with both
hands. “ You might as well set fire to gun-
powder, and then try to bottle it up, as ’spcct
me to stop talkin', whom I am full of it.”

“ I don’t know any one that wants corking u '
worse,” responded J 00. “You’re like a. mill2
race that’s just broke its banks.”

“ Look at them boots now, and then say that
I ain’t a rip—stavin’ Shiner!” exclaimed arry,
as he rose to his feet, and looked down with
pride upon his work.

“ Yes; pretty good for a greenhorn,” said J as,
indifferently. ,

“ Much a greenhorn,” cried Harry, indi mm’t—
ly. “Just you find a chap of my size in a lNew

,York, that can flirt his elbows, and fling black-

in’, up to my level, and 'I’ll sell out, box and
brush. Say, Joe, got a full house now ?" i

“ What in the thunder is it your business?”

“’Cause I want to take a room for a dayor ‘
two, that‘s all.” v

" Take a—whati” \ ,

“ Now, don’t stand on your ear ’cnuse I asked
you a question. If you ain’t got no rooms to
spare, just say so. and I’ll try at the Astor.”

“ You want a room. he ?” -

“Fact is, Joe Tod, I had a little difference of
’pinion up home last night, and dad got the best
of the ai'gyment.” ,‘ ‘

“ How was that?”

“Why, he kicked me out of doors for an im—
pertinent young hound. That was a p’int I
I couldn’t circumvent, so 1 just toddled. Now
I’ve got to take quarters for a day or two till he
comes round again.”

“ Well, if you ain’t a sweet young honey,” re- ,
joined the landlord, looking admiringly on the ,
cool-speaking lad. “ Hang me if 1 don’t feel
like taking you in for your grit.”

“ I calculate to pay my way like a. man,” re.
joined Harry proudly. “ I haven’t 0t no ex-
tra lining of dinghats just now, but ’1] put up
my box and brush for security. And. therenin’t
no gentleman of my bizness in York that’ll go
back on that security. ”

“ Blast it. Harry, I’ll take you in for a day or
two, if I never see your cash. I don’t like to 596
true rit go beggin’ or starvin’.”

“ . owe a boss. Joe. What room are you

 

 
   

22 r‘»

Handsome Harry, the Boothlack Detective.

 

a—goin’ to give me? You see I want to take a
wash—up now.” -

“Well, toddle up-stairs then. Here’s No.6
and 8 em tyJ Take your choice.”

“And £10. 4?”

“ That’s full. It was taken yesterday.”

“All ri ht. [I’ll take No. 6. Trot out your
key. for want to interduce my face to some
’ fresh water, and my hair to a. comb. Slept in a
coal-bin last night, and combed my head this
mornin’ with n. fire—shovel.” ‘

Joe laughed heartily as his irrepressible young
friend made his way up—stairs.

“ That boy’s got the making of a man in him,”
’ .said the landlord to himself. “Bless his bright
eyes. I’d give him six weeks’ board before I’d
see him adrift on the streets.”

v Harry. meanwhile, was occupied with other
thou hts.
’ “ 8 still holds on to No. 4, that’s one com-
fort,” the boy soliloquized. “Wonder if he’s in
j now?”

He listened intently at the door of the room
,in question. No sound came through it. He
r next cautiously knocked at the door. There was

no answer,
* “Looks as if the coast was clear,” he cogi-
' 'tated. “ If I can only get in now."

He soon discovered, however, that the door
‘ was locked; and, next, that the key of No. 6
.~ would not open it.

“I don’t see what I’m to do, ’cept it’s to lay
in ambush, and wait for something to turn up,”
considered the boy, as he opened and entered the

adjoining room of which he had the key.

r ,‘ Let me see: here’s a winder lookin’ out on
the yard. And by Jeminyl it ain’t more than
» six feet from r. Leng—nose’s Winder. And
’ there’sa ledge of bricks just under the winders
that a monkey or a cat could go along. I can’t
say that I’m as Spry as a monkey or a. cut, but
3 there ain’t no tellin’ what a boy can do till he’s

. tried. It isn’t so dreadful (loop if I tumble.” .
The ledge in question was only some three
‘ inches in width, with no purchase for the hands
 save an occasional crevice where the mortar had
; worked out from between the bricks. But Harry
‘ was bold, alert and reckless. He never consid-
»’ cred an object long enough to grow timid at a

dangerous prospect. Before two minutes he had

his feet on the ledge, and was slowly working his
wa along, holding on to the edge of his window
‘ as edid so.

.But he had to loose his holi of this ere the

other window was within reach. there being a
g s ,ace’of some two or three feet, which it seemed
' a most impossible to pass.

Harry carefull scrutinized the brick wall.
Just over his heat was one of the narrow crev—
ices mentioned. Into this he dug the ends of
his slender fingers, and found that he was able
to sustain himself while he shuffled his feet a
short‘distance further onward.

Other crevices appeared beyond, and the boy
. .soom, much to his relief, found himself within
reach of the frame of the next window.

The perilous passage had hardly occupied two
minutes, yet it seemed to him as if a. quarter of
an hour had elapsed.

_ _. ,Getting a firm hold of the sash. he tried to lift
“it it was, (fortunately, not fastened, and in a

 

 

minute more he found himself within that mys-
terious No. 4, which contained the object of all
his present hopes.

He looked heedfully around. It was furnished
Erecisely like the room he had left, wiih a low

ed, a plain bureau and washstaud, n looking—
glass and two chairs.

“ S’pose there’s no use foollu’,” remarked
Harry. “ I’m a—goin’ through this room, and if
them papers are here they’re my divvy. First
place is the top shelf of the closet, where i saw

(mg—nose a-rummagin’.” ,

Harry’s success was not very promising in this
direction. The closet was high, and even when
standing on the chair he had difliculty in getting
his hand into its recesses.

He was about to turn the chair, so as to be
able to mount upon its back. and thus make the
effort to better advantage, when a sound without
the room made him pause.

It was a step, which came along the passage,
and stopped when ciposite the door of No. 4.
Quick as lightning Izu'ry replacez'l the chair,
and plunged under the bedstead, which was just
high enough to admit him.

The door was unlocked, and a pm‘SOn entered.

“What confounded noise was that I heard?”
came to Harry’s ears, in a tone of distrust.
“ Everything is quiet enough now. It must
have been a rat.” ,

He hustled around for a minute or two, pull-
ing down the window-curtain, and moving the
chairs.

“Tim Coin’s let the cat out of the bag, that’s
sure,” he remarked. “The fellow he says he

ut on the Joe Tod scent wasn’t Mr. Steinway,
y a pailful. I' must find a. safer hiding-place
for them papers.”

Harry, by this time had wriggled himself into
such a position as tobe able to get an eye on the
movements of his fellow~occupant of the room.

He saw the latter on the chair, his arm in the
closet.

“ It’s luck Joe Tod let me into the secret of
this hidden rawer in the closet,” he muttered.
“ I might leave them here in safety, only Joe
knows it himself, and there’s no surety ag’in’ his
blabbing.”

As he spoke. there was a clicking sound, as if

'some spring had been touched.‘ The next min-

ute he stopped from the chair, holding in his
hand the large black-leather pocketbook which
Harry had seen in his grasp on the preceding
day. He laid it on the edge of the bed, and
stood a moment as if in thought.

“ I know,” he exclaimed, slapping his hand on

his knee. “ It will be safe there—But I must
fix J eds hiding—place first.”

Again mounting the chair, he thrust his arm
into the closet. The same clicking sound as be-
fore was audible. He stepped to the floor with
an air of intense satisfaction. ,

“ That’s done,” he said, “ and the coast’s clear.
And now I‘d best make a backrdoor flitting, for
there might be awkward eyes on the front—If
they beat Jack Brunter they— Hallo! What
in the blazes has become of the papers?”

There was good reason for this exclamation.
The pocket-book had disappeared.

While he was occupied at the closet, a hand.

haul stolen up over the bedside, closed upon the

  

 

.. -3... W
v

n
Y

 

 

.3“...

 

 

 

Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective.

prize, and drawn it down into the hidden re-
gions beneath.

“ Well, if that ain’t a blazing uncomfortable
queer dodge, I wouldn’t say so,” he ejaculated,
starting back in astonishment. “ By the seven
pipers, if I find who did that I‘ll make it hot
for him l—Did that rat make for a hole under
the bed?”

He stooped down to look under at the same
instant that Harry backed out, foot foremost,
from the foot of the bed.

“Aha!” cried Bruntcr, catching sight of this
movement. “ That’s the rat, hcyé”

There was a savage expression upon his
countenance as he ran around tho corner of
the bed with arms outstretched to grasp the
intruder.

But he had not calculated sufficiently on the
agility of the premium bootblack. With a. quick
leap upward, Harry was. upon the bed. He
rolled over it as lightly as if he had been a bllA
hard-ball. Lighting on his feet on the flool‘
with the quickness of a cat, he sprung for the
door at the same instant that Bruiitcr recovered
himself and started after him.

Harry reachcd the door first, drew it quickly
to after him, and hold it with both hands.

At the same moment he gave vent to a loud
“ Cock-a—doodle-do !” as naturally rendered as if
a genuine rooster had been present.

With a curse of savage fury, Brunter grasp-
ed the handle of the door, and ulled with
all his force against thefeeble strengt 1 of the boy.

Harry sustained himself for a minute: then,
feeling the door was slowly yielding, he loosed
his held. In an instant it flew wide open,
and Jack Brunter, who had been pulling with
all his strength, went down into a. heap on the
floor.

Another “ Cock-a-doodle-do!” came in a shrill .

triumph from the boy’s lips.

He dashed away, and none too soon, for Brun~
tor regained his feet and was after him in an in-
stant. ,

But Harry’s flight was not far. The door of
No. 6 he had left unlocked. Into this room he
darted, locking it after him at the same instant

' that his foe dashed fiercely against it.

Harry’s irritating cry of triumph again run:
out: “ (lock-a—doodle-dol” almost maddening his
furious foe.

“ Open the door, or I’ll burst it in I” yelled the
latter. .

“ Bu’st and be blowed i” cried Harry, back.

Bi‘untcr was as good as his word. Starting
from the opposite side of tho passagohe flung
his whole Weight against the door. The in-
secure loek gave way, and the door flow wide
open. It revealed Harry, with his liouy half
out of the window, his hands still clinging to the
sill.

With savage fury Bruntcr drew a pistol, and
fired a int-blank shot at the boy. Harry’s
body suddenly dropped; his hands loosened their
hold; he was, gone. __

CHAPTER XI.
A STERN music is A LONG oNn.

WE must return to Mr. Livingston, whom
Harry had left on, guard over Tim (Tom’s ale-

01150. 7 .

 

23

The truth was he had just then little heart for
guard duty, or for any thing save sad remem-
brance of his morning’s bitter experience. Com
jeeture as he would he could not imagine the
cause of Miss Gordon’s strange demeanor to-
ward him, thouin it seemed to him most proba—
ble that Hall Stanway had in some manner ini—
bittered her against him. ‘

“ It is his turn new. It will be mine yet,"
murmured Livingston, as he stood at the corner
of the street, languidly viewing the passers-by.

His curling lips showed that he wanted but an
incentive to rouse him to vigorous action.

That incentive soon came. Some distance
down the street his eye caught sight of an ap-
proaching form, which he immediately recog-
nized. , It was that of Hall Stanway.

Livingston had no plan laid; et evidently
some definite action must be, tagen at once. I
There was no time for cautious consideration.

He remembered the well-known rule in cards
-—“ When in doubt, play a trump,” and acting
on it instantly, he crossed the street and entered
Tim Coin’s tap—room.

A glance around this broad—flanked, low-coils
inged apartment, showed him that everything
was favorable to his purpose. There were no
customers except a full-faced Englishman,.who
was sipping ale at the bar. The barkeeper of
1133110 previous day was replaced by a halfvgrown

0y.

Ordering a mu of ale from the latter, Living-
ston seated himsc f at a table near the window,
his back turned to the bar, and his hat drawn
low down over his eyes.

The foaming beverage was hardly served him
when the previous customer turned to go, and as
he did so he was passed in the doorway by tho
ste IS of a person entering.

fiivingston did not look up, but bent himself
closer than ever over his foam-crested mug.

The new~comer walked up to the bar, and ad—
dressed the boy in a voice which the listener ini-
modiately reeo nized as that of Stanway.

“ Where is r. Coin?” he asked.

“He is back in the house. Do you want to
see him?”

H Yes.”

Livingston was Well aware that the eyes of
his suspicious foe would be fixed upon himself.
during the absence of the boy. But he occupied
himself in slowly sipping his beverage, contriv-
iiig, without seeming intention, to quite hide his
face from View.

This momentary dread of discovery was endrd
by the entrance of the landlord, who asked, in his
harsh tone: ,

“Want to see me?” » .

“ I onl wanted to see if I could make a sale,”
replied a tanway. “I have an importation of
fine Brown Stout, better than you often see. .
But let’s wet our whistles before we come down
to business.” '

A slight bustling sound followed, as the land-
lord drew tho drink ordered. It was followed
by In momentary whispering. Then Stanwuy
Salt :

“Draw another mug. There is a friend of
mine here will keep us company. Mr. Liviiig- ,
stein  shall be glad to have you drink with us.”

Lwlngstm started at this 0001 evidence of dis.

 

  
  
    
 
  
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
   
      

.\

e

24 Handsome Harry, the Boot‘black Detective.

covery. He was deeply flushed Mwhen he rose
and the look which he/cast uponhis foe was full
of re )ressed fury.

“then I accept such an invitation it will be
made by another man than Hall Stunway,” he
re lied, with an effort to appear cool.

£19 turned to leave the room. As he did so
his opponent gave vent to a sneering laugh,
which angered Livingston almost beyond en-
durance.

“ It is your turn now, you think.” he remark-
ed, half turning. “Make the most of it, for
vour villainy» has nearly reached its climax.
The landlord there can tell you that I have
already stolen a march on your ras :ally scheme.”

Wit this parting thrust Livingston left the

m

roo . I

“It is all up in that quarter,” thought Liv—
ingston, as he walked away; “They are on
their guard now. { I can only trust, for the pres-
ent, to Harry’s succoss.”

He walked irresolutely away, turning street
after street, in an utterly purposeless manner.

‘ A ’A halfvhour thus passed, at the end of which

time he found himself at no great distance from
his startin -point.

Indolently turning a corner into another
street, he hastily drew back. For there stood

rHall Stanway, not twenty paces away.
‘ ,He had just met a middle-sized,i11-favored

personage, who bore evident marks of haste and
irritation. It was no other than Harry’s furi-
ous foe, Jack Brunter.

A few hasty words passed between the con-

.rederates, and then they hurried ofi.’ in great

haste, their, faces marked by fear and confusion.
In a moment they disappeared around a neigh-
boring corner.

Livingston hastened after them, determined
not to lose the advantage which had thus unex-
pectedly fallen into his hands.

But for the present we must leave this pursuit,
and return to the fortunes of Harry Hunter,
whom we left in so perilous a situation.

His body had dropped suddenly as the pistol
hall Whizzed toward him; but it was not in con-
se uence of this ball.

a window from which Harry hung was
some twenty feet from the ground, but some
four feet below it was the top of a. window of

V the story below, whose shutters stood slightly

ajar. Between the two was the ledge along

. which he had already passed.

On the violent entrance of his pursuer into the
room, the boy was clinging to the window-sill,

’ with his feet on this ledge, half inclined to make

his way, as before, to the adjoining window.
But the furious action of his pursuer left him
but one course to pursue. He immediately let
himself dro until his feet just rested on the top
of the part y-open shutter below him. Then,
losing his hold on the sill. his fingers caught the
projecting ledge, and from there. with the agili-
ty of an acrobat, he let himself fall. and grasped

« the top of the shutter with his hands.

Harry’s quick eye caught the situation of
affairs at a glance. The window, from whose
shutter‘he now hung, was open at the top, the
upper sash being pulled down for ventilation.

Inan instant the feet of the agile boy rested on

the top 013 the sash, and, he swung himself lightly

 

fl

through the opening. As he did so his head was
for a moment thrown back. At the window
from which he had just descended he caught a
glimpse of the infuriated face of his pursuer,
glaring down upon him, his hand grasping the

istol as if ready to send another shot after the
'utritive.

Harry now found himself in a sort of outer
kitchen of Joe Tod’s establishment, where two
or three women were busily occupied in prepar-
ing food for the approachin dinner.

The sudden advent of the oy, in this unusual
way, created an intense fright in these rovious
occu ants of the room already terrifier by tho
piste -shot. Screams of terror resounded
through the house, and they backed off into cor-
ners, as if some wild animal had suddenly
leaped in through the window.

‘ Don’t get skeered,” exclaimed Harry.

“There’s a chap up there firing pistols at me,

and I thought I’d move. Hope you’ll ’scuse me
for makin’ tracks without waitin‘-to be rlite.”

Harr was off like a. shot through t e open
door. n a minute more he dashed through the
bar-room, in which Joe Tod stood the picture of
surprise at the unusual uproar in the upper por-
tions of is mansion.

“ What in the thunder’s broke loose?” he
called out, as Harry dashed past.

“ There’s a fellow coming down-stairs will
’splain,” cried Harry. “You must ’scuse me,
I’m in a hurry.”

Harry went through the door like a flash. In
an instant after his pursuer burst into the room.

Joe Tod had now placed himself in the door-
way. .

“ I’m bunged if there" ain’t too much of this i”
he cried. “What in blue blazes does it all
mean?” ' 7

“Did that boy go through here?” asked the
breathless man.

fl Yes],

“ Then he’s m
robbed me. If
for a fool.”

He rushed through the door, despite Joe’s ef-
fort to detain him for fuller information.

“Well, I’m fond of fun,” said the landlord,
slowly rubbing his head “ but they’re giving
me an overdose to-da . ought to have stopped
that man. It must ave been him that fired
the pistol. If he hurts Harry, hang me if I
don’tgo for him.”

Meanwhile the pursuit was vigorously kept
up along the street into which pursuer and pur-
sued had emerged. It was a somewhat quiet
locality, but few persons assing at this time of
the day, and these looke with surprise on the
vi orous chase.

arry had gained some fifty yards advance
on his pursuer, and though the latter was a good
runner he could not compete with the agile oy,
who shot like a deer along the street, gradually
increasing the distance between them.

“Stop, or I’ll send another bullet after you!”
cried the latter. -

“ Send and be shot!” cried Harry, as he dart-
ed around a corner. _

The chase was too furious to belong continued
at that pace. Both had slackened their speed at
the pomt view We next take them up. and at

meat! The young hohnd has
don’t eat him alive, blow me

   

.. «a ._..-..<

 

; are you gong to take him, ofliceri”

Handsome Harry. the Bootblack Detective.

28

 

which, as we have alread seen, the pursucr had
unexpectedly encountere Mr. Stanway.

A dozen words told the latter what was amiss,
and the chase after the flying boy was at once
continued while Mr. Livingston, in his turn,
put himse f on the track of the pursuers.

They were now entering on more frequented
streets, and were forced to moderate their pace,
both from exhaustion, and from the difficulty
of movement.

It was hardly safe for the villains to raise the
hue—and-cry against the boy. They preferred
to do their own work in this line.

This double pursuit continued for some little
time, Harry slacking his e(pace a she lost sight
of his pursuers, and fanci that he had thrown
them off his track.

He was, indeed, quite out of breath when he
stopped his flight at the City Hall, toward
which he had directed his course with the same
sort of instinct as that with which a hunted fox
seeks his hole. /

Hang took a scat, breathing violently, while
a crow of his young co-laborers gathered round
him, asking him multitudinous questions as to
the cause of his flight.

The boy troubled himself less to answer their
questions than he did to assure himself of the
securitfi of the precious package which he had
hurrie y thrust into his inner vest-pocket.

“ It’s nothing, boys,” he indiflerently remark-
ed, in answer to their uestions. “ I’ve jest
been scooting around a it, that’s all. Prac-
ticing for the six days’ run, in the international
walk-round.”

.“There he is now. That’s the young thief.
Grab him i” came an excited voice near b
Harry started to his feet, and looked
around. There, not twenty feet away, and rap
idly ap roaching, were the forms of his pur-
suers, all Stanway and Jack Brunter. His
quick eye also caught, at about the same dis
tance behind them, the figure of Mr. Livingston.

But the voice he had heard came from none
of these. In his quick lance around he had
reco ' still another gu that of the su-
perc 'ous James, the servant 0 Mr. Gordon.

It was he who had spoken, and, at the same
instant, the hand of a policeman fell heavily up-
on Harry’s shoulder, and a stern voice said:

“ Come along now, you young heund! None
of your monkey tricks with me.”

“ What will come for?” asked Harry, boldly

ing 11 n him. “ What have I done?”

“You’l find that out soon enough, my young
rooster. I’ve got a warrant for you—that’ll do
for now.”

He was draggieig Harry away, when another
voice stern] a : .

“,‘What 036 this mean, Sir? What has the
boy done?” . . ”

‘ I’ll tell you, Mr. LIVlngStQ‘l'l,_ answered
James. “The audacious little villain has stole
a valuable diamond ring from Miss Gordon.”

“A diamond ring!” cried Livu} .10}, m 5m“
prise. “I don’t believe he everdi it.

“I fancy he did, then,” reJolned Stanwayz‘av
look of triumph coming 11 'n 1119 face- I
charge him, too, with ate in a _number of
valuable papers from a friend 0 male. Where

hastil y '

 

“Before Justice Bigsby.” '

“Very Well. I will be there to substantiate
our char e.”

“‘And , to have a word in the matter," said
Livmgston, to himself.

As for Harry, he seemed confused, but not a
whit frightened. At the mention of the diamond
ring a quick light flushed into his face. He re-
membered what he had seen through the open
window at the Gordon mansion.

CHAPTER XII.
BEFORE JUSTICE niesnY. ,

IT was no pleasant sensation for Harry Hun-
ter to find himself the occupant of a olice cell,
an charged with the commission 0. a serious
crime: in the last twenty—four hours he had
passed through a multitude of new experiences,
and had his wits sharpened more than they had
been in weeks before.

“ It is that fellow, Stanway, who is at the bot—
tom of it,” he said to himself. “ And I s’pose if
I tell what llve seen nobody ’lI b’lieve me.. I
could bring the boys to prove my character—
but who’s a-goin’ to li’licve boys? They ain’t got
no character——’specially bootlilncks.”

While Harry thus occupied himself in his un-
comfortable cell in bitter reflections on the un-
certaith of human justice, other events in which
he was estiiied to be connected were proceeding
elsewhere.

A hearing on the charge against him had been I

fixed for three o’clock that afternoon, and word
had been sent to the Gordon mansion that the

arrest had been made, and that Witnesses should "

be on hand at the above hour. ’
It was with surprise and indignation that
Alice Gordon received this requisition to be

present at the police court of Justice Bigsby at“

three o’clock that afternmm. to give evidence in

regard to the loss of her diamond ring, ngainst’

Harry Hunter, the sugposed thief.

A moment’s thong t convinced her of the
source of this arrest, and she walked hastily to
her father’s room. Here she found the invalid
still seated in his easy-chair, enjoying the morn-
ing aper.

“ hat does this mean, father?” she asked,
with some sternness of tone. “ I am told that
the boy who was here yesterday has been arrest-
ed for the theft of my ring. I certainly made no
such charge against im.’ ‘

“I did, daughter,” returned Mr. Gordon, his
face slightly flushing. “You would never re-
cover your ringif you go on believing every-
bOdy innocent. Somebody stole it, and there
was nobod but that boy to do it.” '

“ He be nothing to do with it,” she positively
rejoined, ,“and 1 am very sorry that this false
charge has been laid against him. I would not

have it on my conscience to have destroyed the ,

youth’s self-res cct.”
“ Self-respec i” laughed Mr. Gordon. “ The
self-respect of a bootblackl Well, that is slightly
rich. ,
“Why not?” asked Alice. “There is nothin
dishonest or di‘screditablc in the business.
bootblack earns his money as honestly as a
mechanic or a merchant. but he is a poor boy
is not dishonorable. Nor is it a crime to have to
work for aliving.” ~ , .

4
\"

 

' ..in a puzzled tone.

 

28‘

Handsome Harry. the Boot-black Detective.

 

“ Now don’t go on ridiculously. Alice,” re-
plied her father, making a wry face. “ You
now I don’t believe in theories. I have nothing
against bootblacks in the mass. But who stole
(the ring—that’s the question? I hardly imagine
you would charge Stanway or Livingston with
it. There is nobody but this boy who could have
done it.”

“ But that is not sufficient evidence.”

“ The ring may be found on him; I suppose
that would satisfy your scruples.”

“It will not,” she replied, somewhat triumph-
antly‘.’

“ by will it not?”

“ Because it is here,” was her unexpected an-
swer. -“ I have it on my hand,” and she dis-
played the missing diamond. “ He can hardly

. be guilty then, even if he is a. bootblack.”

‘ How is/ that, girl?” exclaimed her father,
angrily. “ Have you made all this bother for
nothing? The ring was not lost, then?”

“ It was stolen,” she returned, “ but not by the
boy. As it has been returned to me, I prefer to
let the matter rest.”

v “ But who stole it?”

“Excuse me, father, for not answering that,

There are some secrets which are best buried in

\ oblivion.” There was a deep sense of pain on
her face as she spoke. “I am sorry you acted
without consulting me.”

“ Oh! you can easily clear the boy. You will
[have to be present at the hearing.”

“I suppose so,” she returned with an expres-
sion as if the necessity was a very distasteful
one.

But we must close this interview, and hurry
for Nerd toward the hour set for the hearing of
H'wry Hunter, on the charge of theft.

The police court was located in a not very de—
sirable part of a not very fashionable street, and
Alice Gordon looked around with an expression
ofutter distaste as she found herself in a locality

r .Widely different from any to which she had been

‘ accustomed. ~ V '

As she approached the office of Justice Bigsby
she encountered Mr. Livingston, who was walk-

‘ infi disconsolatel , in the same direction.

' is face lighte up as he recognized her, yet
he a preached her with a hesitating diflidence.

“ iss Gordon,” he said, “ I am very sorry for
this arrest. Yesterday you did not believe the

’ boy guilty. Have you further evidence against

him nowyjustifying his arrest.
_ .“ It was not to doing,” she coldly replied, “I
am here to clear im of this charge, and I call

n — on you to aid me.”

' “ Whv, Certainly,” he replied, “so far as I
can. Unfortunately I can only speak as to his
general character.”

“ You can do much more,” she answered, look-
ing him sternly in the eye. “ It is your duty to
clear him, no matter how unpleasant it may
prove tp yourself.” .

> ‘ Unpleasant to myself!” rejoined Livingston,

“I am sure I do not know
what you mean.”

, She looked at him in silence for several sec-
onds. with the same stern glance.

“ This assumption of surprise is every strange

' one. Mr. Livingston," she severely remarked.

‘f’Why you should make it in my presence I

- /‘

 

cannot understand. There are circumstances
in which revelations cannot be confined to two
persons. This is one of those occasions. If you
do not yourself take measures to clear the
boy of this charge, I shall be obliged to, how-
ever disagreeable the duty may prove.”

She walked haughtily away, leaving him a
picture of astonishment.

Meanwhile the case had been called hcfoi'O' I

Justice Bigsby, and that self-sufficient personage
was busy 1n hearing testimony.

The servants of the Gordon mansion had been
notified to attend, and were being closely ques-
tioned by the justice.

James had given in his testimony in regard to
the boy’s behavior on the previous day. Ac-
cording to this witness he had tried to force
himself into Mr. Gordon’s house, and had only
been restrained by an exercise of haughty firm~
nose on his art.

He had inally run away in fear on the ap-
proach of Mr. Stanway.

“Aha! afraid of Mr. Stanway, was he?”
cried. the examiner, with a chuckle. “ “71137
should he be afraid of Stanway? That hasa
guilty look. Is Stanwa here?”

“ Yes, sir,” replied r. Stanway, stepping
forward. A ,

“What do you know about this case?” ques-
tioned the examiner. “Why is the boy afraid
of on?” '

‘ Because he played a rascally trick on me,
and I owed him a chastiseinent for it.”

“I’ll tell you, judge ” broke in Harry at this
point. “I blacked that coon’s boots. and he
wouldn’t pay me, so I just made a charge ag’in’
him in the bootblack’s davhook.”

“ Aha! what was that?”

“ I give him a dab of blackin’ on his knee, so i

that every time he saw it he’d know he owed me
ten cents. That’s all.”

“I believe you’re a villainous young rascal,”
cried the justice, looking at him with withering
severity. “Who is the next witness?”

“ The most important witness has not yet ar-
rived,” remarked the oliceman. ' “ Miss Gor-
don, the owner of the ost ring, has been noti-
fled to attend.”

“ I hope she does not imagine that a court of
justice is a ball-room, or an opera-house, where
it is fashionable to come late?” remarked the
justice. “ I shall discharge the prisoner if this
delay continues. Has he been searched?”

“ Yes, your honor. There was no trace of the
ring found upon him, or at his residence.”

“ What was found upon him?”

“ The leather pocket-book which lies upon
your desk.‘

“ Ah!” exclaimed the justice, lifting the pack-
age. “I remember now. There has been a dis—
tinct charge laid against him for the theft of
this. Is the prosecutor present?"

“ Yes, your honor. It was stolen from my
room at the hotel this morning,” answered Jack
Brunter, stepping forward. “ I caught that
boy in the act, but he got away from me. I fol-
lowed him, and was about to catch him, when
the policeman here arrested him on another
charge.”

“ So he’s been doing a double job of robbery,”

said the justice, bending his eyes severely on‘

i

when“. .u a... S. ,

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Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective.

2‘7

 

Hairy” “ IV hat proof have you of this charge?
Have you witnesses?”

“ I can have, your honor,” replied Bl‘untcr.
“And Mr. Stnnway here can testify that the
pocket-book is my property, and that he joined
me in the chase of the boy.”

Stanway was closely questioned as to his
knowledge respecting this new charge. His cvi-
dcnce seemed sufficient to prove that the pocket-
book was the property of Brunter.

“ And I hope your honor will return it to me
new,” appealed Brunter. “I have important
business in Chicago, and must set out at once.
1 have lost valuable time already by the delay
which this young thief has caused me.”

“ Don’t let his thieving fingers touch it,
judge,” cried Harry. “It ain’t no more hisn
than it is yourn.” , _ _ .

“ We shall have to lock that boy up again if
he is not still,” roared the justice. “ Thispocket-
book seems to be our property, Mr. Brunter.”

“ I hardly thin so,” spo to another voice.

They all. turned round at this interruption.
The speaker was recognized by many of them as
Mr. Livingston. Miss Gordon had also entered
at the same moment, and seated herself on a
chair proffered her by James.

“ What means this interruption?” queried the
justice, angrily.

“It means that the boy has told youthe
truth,” spoke Mr. Livingston, in a calm voice.
“The papers in that pocketbook are stolen
property, and I here charge the man who claims
them with theft. I ask you to retain them in
your ssession until I can prove my words.
And a so to not let this man escape until my
charge is heard.” '

I “See that no one leaves the court,” said the
justice to the policeman, as he noticed router
and Stanway edging toward the door.

CHAPTER XIII.
ALICE GORDON TESTIFIES.

“ ARE there any other witnesses presentdn
the case now before me?” asked the ‘udge.

“ Miss Gordon is here,” answered ames. I

“ Will Miss Gordon lplease step forward?” re-
marked the stice. 5 had caught a glimpse
of Miss Ger on’s face and fashionable attire,
and deemed it judicious to assume a more polite
tone toward this mm avis, so widely distinct

 

/ frmn the ordinary customers.

The fair witness advanced at this request.

Being put upon oath, she detailed the events
connected with the loss of her ring.

“But,” she continued. “I prefer not to have
this charge prosecqu any further. I do not
believe the lad guilty, and wish to have the suit
discontinued.” I

“ It is not a question of your belief, but of the
evidence,” calmly remarked the justice. .

“But there are the best of reasons why it
Should not go on,” she earnestly repeated.

“ Will you name them, Miss Gordon ?" i

“ This is the first and strongest.” she replied,
holding up her hand, on one finger of which

‘glittered a large diamond. “ I have here the
stolen ring! It has been returned to me!”

" “ But that does not absolve the thief.” said
the surprised justice. “Your father has had
this boy charged. with the theft of your I‘lng-”

 

“I never touched the old ring,” interrupted
Hurry. “ What good would a diamond ring he
to me, I’d like to know? W'ouldn’t I be apretty
figure hlackin’ boots witha diamond like that
on my hands!”

Harry’s tone of scorn and contempt raised an
involuntary laugh, which was sternly repressed
by the justice.

Have on further evidence to oifcr as to who
returnet you the ring?”

“ No, sir,” she replied, in an agitated tone.

She glanced around the room as she did so.
Her eyes encountered those of Mr. Livingston,
who stood 'ust behind her. There was an ap«
pealing loo in her face which surprised and
troubled him. He stood irresolutc, not knowing
what to make of this expression.

“ Then,” said the justice resolute . “ I see
nothing before me but to commit t e boy for
trial on the charge of theft.”

“He did not steal the ring!” she cricd, in a
pained tone. “I have evidence to the con-
trary.”

She stepped up closer to the high desk, which
sheltered the portly form of Justice Bigshy.

“I have evidence which will convince you,”
she remarked. “ I do not care to have it made
public, but the lad must not suffer for the crime
of another. Will you please read this letter?”

Justice Bigsby took the letter and read it. '

His expression changed as he did so. A look\
of surprise came upon his features. .

“This is certainly an unexpected picceuif evi~
deuce, Miss Gordon,” he said. “Do I under-
stand”that this letter accompanied the returned
rin ?

“It did, sir.”

The eyes of Stanway flashed with triumph as
he heard these words. They seemed to convey
more meaning to him than to the others present. <

“Then the accused is certainly clear of the
crime with which he is characd,” remarked, the
justice. “ He will consider himselfivdischarged
from custody.”

“ Thankee, judge,” replied Harry, gratefully.
“ If you’d only asked me I’d told you long ago
that I didn’t steal nobody’s diamond. But you
asked everybody else 7cept me. How was you
goin’ to find out what I done by askin’ somebody
else I’d like to know?”

arry’s handsome face was flushed with joy
as he walked out among his friends, and began
a busy process of baking: hands with all pres- ,
cnt, as if all must necessarily take part in his
pleasure.

“I wish to withdraw any further proceed-
ings ” said-Miss Gordon. “The party accused
has won proved innocent. I decline to prose-
cute any one else.”

“This will not do!” cried Steinway, stepping
angrily forward. ,“No one can be cleared on
concealed evidence, oven in a petty court like
this. I demand that the prisoner be recalled,
or that the evidence clearing him be made pub-

' 'I’

“ I decline to have the letter read,” responded
Miss Gordon.

“Very well. then. It cannot be admitted as
evidence. without being made public. Even
J lpstige Bigsby knows enough of the law toknow
t at.

 

4...

a.‘...._.-:

 

’./

/

28

Handsome Harry, the. Bootblack Detective.

 

The justice cast an angry glance at the speak—
er; but the latter stood with determined atti—
tude and expression. ‘ ,‘

“He is right, Miss Gordon,” replied the ,jus—
ticc. “ The letter must be publicly read. Secret
evidence cannot be admitted.”

Miss Gordon flushed and paled.

“ Why should it not be read?” asked Mr,
Livingston, addressing her. “ If it contains
any matter not hearing on this charge, that can
be suppressed.” ,.

She looked at hind with a strange glare.

“Very well then. I will withdraw my ob-
jections to its beimr read.”

The justice had noticed this by-play with
wonderm eyes. There was evidently some
secret fee ing between these two persons. He
carefully adjusted his spectacles, looked impres-

r sively for a moment over those present, and then

read the letter. as follovvs:

“Dun Miss Goanonz—You will be more than sur-
prised—you will be horrified—by receiving this note,
with ts contents, in my handwriting. Do not ask
me what induced me to take the ring. That I can‘
not answer. Your jewel case stood there—at my
hand. Asudden temptation—from the Evil One. I
verily believe—came upon me. I could not resist it.
It was but a moment. and I had the stolen jewel in
my possession. I dared not seek to return it, for you
‘entered at that moment. i

“But when you afterward told me of its loss. and
accused another of the theft. you stirred in me the
sting of conscience. My whole soul is burning With
remorse. I dare not keep it longer. Ireturn it to
you, not askinz you to forgive me, but hoping that
you will not altogether despise me.

“ Shall we not let this unfortunate matter die out
of our memories? I shall not refer to it again, nor
change my demeanor toward you. I hope you will
show your forgiveness by not changing yours toward
me.

The reader paused and looked slowly over the

A assembly all of whom were spell-bound in sur-
rise' h

6 eyes of Alice were fixed on Livings-
n, whose'face was a medley of emotion.
“ 'But the name? The signature?” cried Stan-

wa .
, , “y It is si ed only by initials, E. L.,” re-
marked the Justice.

I“ E. L. l” exclaimed Livingston, in a hot fever
of feeling/"‘ My initialsl”

“Yes; and your handwriting,” said Alice, in
an itated voice.

“ t me see that lying scroll l” he ejaculated,
striding forward, and snatching it from the
hands of the reader. -

An instant his eye glanced over it,and then he
exclaimed:

“ It is as I then ht!

It is a forge 1”
“What!” cri ' ry

Alice, with bloodless lips.

.“Can I have been so deceived? Oh, may God

grant that it be as you say i”

 

/

CHAPTER XIV.
rim LEATHER POCKET-BOOK.
MR. GORDON was net quite at ease in his mind

.‘ in regard to his action of that morning. The

indignation of his daughter had troubled him
deflate himself. ,
e walked his room, backward and forward,

( in a h‘etful, uneasy mann .

er
“I believe everybody would be better off if

 

they’d, quit meddling in matters: where women
are concerned,” he muttered. “ Alice is always
right and I am always wrong, and I expect that
this business will turn out as usual with show-
ing that I have been an unfeeling 01dmcdd1er.——
Hal there is the hell. I wonder if any one is
left to answer it, or if they have all gone away
on this business?”

It appeared that they were not all gone, for
one of his servants immediately afterward
brought him up a telegraph message.

“ Ah! what can this be?” he asked himself.
“ Tell the messenger to wait a minute. I will
see if there is an answer needed.”

He tore open 1: 6 sheet with a nervous motion,
but his eyes lit up with a flash of inward fire as
they glanced over the scroll.

“ Good news—good news!” he shouted, snatch-
ing up his pillow and flinging it lightly into the
air. “ The Good Speed is safe! She is in portl
My ship is in port I—A truce to your medicines.
That is the best medicine. I am myself again;
I am on my feet in every sense.”

“ Is there any answer t” asked the servant, re-
turning.

“ Yes; answer that I am w,ell, and will prove
it by coming into town immediately.”

And he was as good as his word. In ten minutes
he had thrown off all the insignia of illness, and
was dressed for out-door exercise.

They were certainly somewhat surprised in
Justice Bigsby’s court when Mr. Gordon opened
the door and walked into the room. '

A cry of alarm burst from his daughter, as
she ran toward him, cau ht him by the arm,
and looked withfrightene eyes into his face.

“ It is myself,‘Alice,” he said cheerfully. “ I
am all rightmgain. Good news has cured me.
Havae‘ you not heard? Has not Livingston told

on.

“No, father,” and she looked curiously from
one to the other.

Livingston, with flushed face, and an angry
curl to his lip, still had his eyes fixed on the let-
ter he had just seized.

“ He knows, Alice. He just telegraphed me
that the Good Speed was safe—was in harbor.
It is this that has put me on my feet again, as
sound a man as any here.”

“I declare again that this is a forgery l" ex-
claimed Livingston, striking the 1etter with his
open hand. and too deeply excited to heed What
was rocceding so near at hand. /

“ hat remains to be proved,” said the justice,
coldly. \

“ Now see here, judge,” cried Harry, earnest-
ly. “Mr. Livin u had no more to do with
that ring than I ad, and Icau prove it! If you
want bail for him I’m just the fellow that’ll go
his bail. ’Cause he ain’t a-goin’ to, jail on no
such a bizness as that.”

“ What is the matter?” asked Mr. Gordon, as
he pressed up and took Livingston warmly by
the hand. “ Is there a charge against you?”

“Is that my handwriting?” asked Livingston,
forcing the letter into his hand. ,

Mr. Gordon looked at it for a minute or two
in deep surprise. He caught the sense of the
letter. and turned quickly to his daughter.

Al‘l‘ W33 , it this that oiled you this morning,
'ce?

I

witW" p.642” < n____.. .

_ ',—
“I r
a.

 

 

a

y.........._., . bum.“ .

a

“WM; .,......_.._.,_.m‘,_,..

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, Leah‘s»...

.-..r~“-/

 

r.

ham ; sat—.4 .. __.l._.



 

'

»

Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective.

i

 

“ Yes, sir.”

“Then I have made an old ninny of myself
again, that is sure.”

“ But do you recognize the handwriting?”
asked the justice. _

“ The handwritingi” his eyes perused it again
attentively. “ Why, it’s a deuced clever imita-
tion of Ned Livingston’s hand. But I’ll swear
it’s a. forger , for all that: for I know his writing
better than do my own.”

“ 'Will you testify to this under oath, Mr. Gor-
don i” asked Livingston. r

“ Certainly. Under ten oaths. There’s some
deuce of a sharp rascal been at work here,
Ned.”

The face of Alice had rcddened, and then
grown deathly pale. She still clung to her
father’s arm, but her downcast eyes only slowly
Enid timidly raised themselves to Livingston’s

ace. r

“ Can you forgive me?” she murmured. “ My
manner! My scornful tone! Oh! how strange
and cruel they must have seemed to you i”

“ For ive you!” Alice!” was all he said; but
the tone of his hand, and the look in his eyes,
su plied the rest.

‘And now as you big folks have had your say
I s’pose it’s no harm if a little chap like me puts
a word in sideways,” cried Harry. “ You ain’t
got all the evidence about this case yet, judge. I
now something ’bout it, which I’ll reel out if
you’ll only let me.”
“ Yery well. Let me hear what you have to
say.
The boy was at once put upon oath, and asked
to tell what he knew about the theft of the ring.

“I know the thief, your honor. I know him
just like on know a book. And that’s him;
that snea ing old cheat in the corner there,”
and Harry’s finger pointing accusingly at Stan-
way.

The latter sprung fiercely forward at this un—
looked-for accusation; yet he could not keep
back a guilty pallor from his face.

“Back, sir!” exclaimed the justice. “ Officer,
See that no violence is permitted.”

Harry proceeded to desoribe his adventure, of
the previous day, at the Gordon mansmn. He

ticularly detailed his climb to the parlor Wln-
(CW, and how he had seen Steinway open the
casket and take from it the diamond ring.

The face of the accused man was a study as

"this evidence was given in.

“ Is the word of a lying little bootblack like
that to be taken against a man of my known
standing?” H .

“Perhaps Miss Alice remembers, continued
Harry, paying no attention to Stan Way’swords,
“ how she came to raise the winder curtain, and
how she heard something drop outs1de?

’Alice. with much surprise, assented to the

, truth of the boy’s remark.

'_ little matter of the paper Vet

tom.

“That was me that dro .ed,” procer ded Har-
ry. “ I just let go and pIrie‘atched up at the hot-
And then I crawled in under the bushes.”

“ Go on,” said the justice. .

“ That’s ’bout all, judge,” replied Harry.
“ ’Bout all in this bizness I mean. There s the

“Can this be possible?” asked Mr. Gordon.

looking earnestly at Stanway. “That you"

 

that a man like Hall Stairway, whom I would
have trusted with my fortunc~ But there
must be a. mistake in this.”

“ Not an ounce of a mistake,” ejaculated Har-
ry pes1tively, “ ’ccpt that you’ve trusted him too
much. I Wouldn’t like to trust him with the
vally of a bent pin. I trusted him with a shine
once; but I’ve got it charged up ag’in’ him.”

“ We are wasting time here,” said the justice
impatiently. “Mr. Livingston, these men are
under arrest on your charge against them of
roblicry. I am prepared to give them a hear—
ing.’

“Will you please examine that leather book
in your possession, and tell us of what its con-
tents consists?” asked Livingston. _ , \ '

The dignified judge took a thick mass of pa-
pers from the well-swollen book.

All )resent remained in expectant silence
while ustice Bigsby slowly ran his eyes over
the mass of papers. Then. pushing back his
spectacles on his forehead, he looked fora mo—
ment over the room, as if to properly impress
every one with a sense of the importance of the
impending disclosure:

“I find,” he at length remarked, “that we
have here avaluable series of United States
government bonds. And I also find that they
are not the property of either Mr. Brunter Or
Mr. Stanway, but of Mr. George Gordon.”

“My propertyl” cried Mr. Gordon, bursting
forward. ‘ Are they the bonds that were stolen
from me? Oh! that would he too much ood
news for one day. Answer me, Livingston, tan-
way~are they my lost bonds?”

“ I know nothing about them,” growled Stuns '
way with affected indifference. ‘

‘ They are the bonds which were stolen from ‘
you,” re lied Livingston, “and I hope to con-
vince l\ r. Stairway that he does know some:
thing about them. I got on their traekvlgy a.
mere accident, and-with the help of our cle—‘
awake bootblack here—succeeded in recovering
them.” .

“,You can bet we succeeded,” replied Harry,
earnestly. .

The justice, who had been listening with the
interest of curiosity to this colloquy, now re-
turned to a sense of his relaxed dignity. ,

“ This is all too informal,” he exolaimed. “ I
cannot listen to any more such irregular pro-
ceedings. This case must be heard under oath.
Who are your witnesses, Mr. Livingston?”

But we will not detail the evidence given in
this hearing, as the reader is pretty thoroughly
ac uaintcd with it already.

The most important feature in it was Mr. Gor-
don’s sworn recognition of the bonds as his, and
his testimony that they had been stolcn from his
office.

The evidence of Livingston and that of Harry
was next taken, that of the latter exciting rent
interest as he graphically described hisa Ven-
tures‘in search of the papers.

“ I fetched ’em at last,” he‘ triumphantly con-
cluded, “but I calculate they’d have snatched
’om from me if your honor hadn’t been kind
enough to have me grabbed by a policeman at
that identical minute. They was a-comin’ down
on me like a. 2:40 two-boss team on the home
stretch, when this gentleman here, with'the

.,‘

 

 

for the interests of

' Brown.

30 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective.

 

forty und muscles, gobbled me u and toted
mo 0 . And that was what flung ol Stanway."

Han ’s voice was full of triumphant scorn as
he cone uded. He evidently fancxed his foe de—
molished.-
'1 “I do not see any evidence bearing directly
upon Mr. Stanway,” remarked the justice, doubt-
ingly. “ His evident anxiety to favor the other
prisoner may arise from other causes.”

“But the etter signed Jack Bruntor, which
was found in his pocket?” ueried Livingston.

“ Yes, es, that is certainly important,” re-
plied the Justice, after again reading it.

,' And :16 have the e7ident collusion of the
‘ two‘men hro

ugh the whole business,” said Liv-
' ston impatiently.

‘ And there’s theietter that was left for Jack
Brunt/er at Tim Coin’s,” suggested Harry. “And
which I confistercated.”

“ The one signed 8.?” asked the justice, pick-
ing it up. “ Can any one testin to this hand-

, writing?”

Mr. Livingston and Mr. Gordon both exam-
ined it, and swore positively that it was Stan-
wa ’5 writing.

he countenance of the latter had brightened
somewhat during the last few minutes; but it fell
again when Justice Bigsby turned severely to—
ward him, and said: ‘

“Your case is made out, Mr. Livingston. I
shall commit these two men for trial on the
charge of larceny.”

CHAPTER XV.
WHAT HARRY SAW THROUGH ran noon.

Wm must step forward a few days before
a ain taking up the thread of our story.
uring these da 5 events had worked. well
1'. Gordon.
Yet this was but temporary. The good tid-
ingswhieh had come to him, were certain soon

 

' to bring him permanently to his feet again.

The creditors had been advised to Withdraw
any intended suit-i, and had been again convened
together. And this time they came less unw111—

' ingly than before, since it had become the whis-

per of the town that a most decided improve-
ment had taken place in Mr. Gordon’s affairs.

And it may be well imagined that they were
not lon in accepting an improved offer of one
hundrefi cents on the dollar in ayments to their
claims; or in granting to Mr. ordon the slight
extension of time he desired, so that he might
get his alfairs in order.

“Ialways had a notion that Hall Stanway
was something of a sneak,” replied bluff Mr.
“Mr. Gordon was too confounded un-
suspicious. I only hope now that he’ll squeeze
him as hard as he deserves.” «

“ And who’s to be trusted?” queried another
merchant. “I did not like the man, but I did
not dream he would steal.”

“ There is another matter on which I desire
to speak,” said Livingston, changing the subject.
f‘ You‘ broke up our former meeting in conse-
quence of hearing that a suit had been brought,
in Rochester, against Mr. Gordon.”

' “ Why yes,” rejoined Mr. Brown. “The
business. egan to look blamed thin.”

“Itold you then that our settlement would

 

not be affected by that suit,” rejoined Living-
ston. “ I suppose some of you went away with
the idea. that was trying some sharp practice
upon you. But I ha pened to know that the
suit was based on a c aim that would not hold
water. I am happy to be able to announce to
you this morning that it has failed. The
Court has disallowed it.”

After the breaking up of this meeting Mr.
Livingston made his way toward Mr. Gordon’s
mansion to report the results.

Hurry Hunter had also sought the same
locality. This was at the desire of Alice Gordon,
who wished to see the boy.

But instead of distur ing the high-toned
James at the “ big front door,” our young
friend made his way to the area gate, where he
was admitted by Sally, the kitchen girl.

“Got any shinin’ you want done? I’ll do any- '

thing for you, Sally, if it’s to polish up the fryin’-
pan.

“ Now, none of your nonsense, Harry,” said
the smiling girl. “ You’re avexatious little imp,
but I like you for all that. When you was tell~
ing how you fooled that Stanway the other day,
it was as much as I could do to keep my hands
elf of you. I wanted to take you in my arms
just there and kiss you for a smart little Hand-
some Harry.”

“ It ain’t too late yet,” exclaimed Harry, mov-
in toward her.

ith a scream of laughter, Sally threw her
apron over his head and ran from the room.
But he was too alert to be thus checked. In a
moment he had released himself from the blinds
inrr folds of the apron and was after her.

hrough the entry, through room after room,
the chase continued. Finally she darted up-
stairs, still so full of merriment that she could
hardly run. .

Harry shot up-stairs after her with the
agility of a. squirrel, and caught her just as
(silie had reached the hall in front of the parlor

oor.

“ Let me go, Harry 1” she exclaimed, as well
as she could speak for laughin .

“Yes, when I’ve had my 'iss,” replied the
merry boy.

- Her head had fallen back over his supporting

arm; her red lips were slightly parted like the
petals of a flower: Harry’s lips lighted upon
them like a butterfly on a rose—if we may in~
dulge in a poetical simile.

At this same instant the parlor door opened,
and the face of Miss Gordon looked inquirineg
out. Just behind her stood Mr. Livingston. .

“ What is the matter there?” she asked.

Sally burst from the’boy’s graspin blushing
confusion, and ran hastily for the stairs; but
Harry stood his ground. I

“ She challenged me,” he said,~“and we City
Hall polishers never go back on a. challenge.
And ’11 tell you what it is, Miss Alice,” he
continued, in a stage whisper, “ there’s Mr.
Livingston behind you, looking as if he’d lost
his grandmother; and I know he’s as sweet on
you as hone}r on pound-cake. Just you take
Handsome Harry’s advice and challenge. him the
same way.”

If Harry had anything further to say, it was
cut short by the sudden closure of the parlor

ow

g

 

—-‘—_» .
k.

may»; .

" 'Ws
, W

“anNn‘ lg...

‘ t»
,7

Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective. 31

 

no hurry. You can send for me when you
want inc,” called Harry, through the door, as he
walked awa ‘. ‘

“If Mr. ivingston don’t take the hint after
that, I wouldn’tgive a green persimmon for
him,” :solilequized the mischievous boy, With a
sly laugh to himself.

In fact, the interview between tho two lovers,
previously to Harry’s advent on the scene, had
won decidedly cold and dry. He was inclined
to blame her for too readily crediting him with
writing the forged letter, while she declared that

"’ he Should have demanded an explanation of her
demeanor.

“I could not act otherwise than I did,” she

’rsisted. “I might, in time, have forgotten:
iii-1t it is hard to bear to have our idols so rudely
Shattered.”

It was at this moment that the Harr and
Sally episode occurred. Livingston stem in a.
quiver of nervous excitement. She had spoken

, as if he was one of her idols. W'as this but a
thoughtless figure of speech, or had it a deeper
meaning?

There was a warm suggestion in the scene he
had just witnessed, and in liari'y’s mischievous
" words. There was a warmer suggestion in the
confused and blushing face with which she rc-
treated from the door.

How it happened neither of them ever knew.
It had something of the unconscious action with

L dre

w.
“I’ll be down in the kitchen, and I ain’t in

v‘}
‘ ' door, as the sweet, blushing, confused face with-
< ,.
l
i .

33
‘i
g

    

certain that before ,either dreamed of such a
thing Alice found herself clasped in Livingston’s
arms, and his Ii )5 ressed in warm kisses on her
lovely, rose-flus 8 face.

But the parlor door had closed, and it may not
be quite the fair thing to open it upon these two
young lovers.

Harry was having so lively a time in the
kitchen that he did not know how rapidly time
, ,. was gliding by, and he could not have guessed

' , that two hours had vanished since that eventful

J moment when he had seen the flushed face of
Alice disappear behind :he closmg door.

The uizzical look wi h which 10 entered the
parlor ad, then, nothing to do with the lapse of
time, but with some comical thoughts which
were wandering through his brain.

An involuntary blush came again into Alice’s
‘ _ checks as she caught his humorously- uestioning
'  ,1 glances. He looked from her 'to ivingston,

,‘g Whose face also was full of happiness. ’

- ’5 “ That’s right up to the mark,” he exclaimed,
- ' joyously. “And if you don’t give me an invite

‘ V to the wedding I’ll never Speak to you again-
And I hope either of you ain’t mad ’cause I kissed
Sally behind the parlor door.”

“ To show you that I am not, you hand-
some, mischievous, little tease, I will. kiss you
right here,” exclaimed Alice, enthusmstically,
“ for you are as good and noble-hearted as you
L are queer.” .

f. It was Harry’s turn to blush as be felt the
. , pressure of her soft lips. He retreated With a
p timid dismay unusual to him.
long in recovering his equanimity.

_ “You needn’t be asking for that back,” be

it... I .

\

"mew-x ~.'.~

But he was not

.i“¢

which the iron flies to the magnet. But it was

cried joyoust to Livingston “ or claiming that
it’s yearn, for I wouldn’t seli it for a barrel full
of gold dollars; and if I’m goin’ to give it away,
I’ll give it back where it came from.”

The hearty laugh which followed these words
was succeeded by a long conference, in which
Harry’s future was the principal subject of dis—
eussmn. They wished, in their new-felt charity
toward all mankind, to do a thousand things for
the boy; but they found him particularly ebdu~
rate. .

“ I’m a first-class bootbluck, and I wouldn’the
worth a cent at anything else,” he said. “ Guess
I’d best stick at what I’m used to.”

“But you are getting too old for that busi-
ness,” replied Livingston. “ And, besides, you
need some education.”

“ It’s time enough for all that,” persisted
Harry. “ Of course, I want asprinklin ' of eddi-
eation; and maybe I’ll soon have to stri 'e out in
some new line of bizness; but just new, if You
ain’t no serious objection, I’ll stick to the box

and brush. A boothlaek’s a gentleman if he’

ain’t a millionaire. He goes where he wants
and leaves when he pleases. He works when he
feels like it, and he plays when he is in the hu-
mor. And if that ain’t being a gentleman, then
that’s all I know ’bout it.”

And try as they would they could get no more
out of Harry.

A few words will finish our story. The com- '

ing in of his ship, and the recovery of his lcst
apers, put Mr. Gordon again upon his feet.
is health soon came back on the tide of return-
ing prosperity. His business is now fully re-
established, and more prosperous‘than ever, and
he is the happiest of easy-going people.

There is only one thing that greatly bothers f
him, which is that Women, and especially his, r

daughter, will have their way.

“But she and my boy Ned are going to he
spliced soon,” he says, “and then I’ll be clear of
all that trouble. But if she don’t make him back
down if he tries to cross her too much, ,then my‘
experience goes for nothing.”

They are not married yet: but, by the Way
she’ does as she pleascs with her happy lover
now, it will not be likely to make him very un-
happy, even if she does have her way in the
future. .

As for Stanway and his associate, they have
been punished to the extent of the law for their
crime, and are now “chewing the end of sweet

and bitter fancy” in the New York peniten— ‘.

tiary. \

Harry is still the Boss of the Bootblacks, but
he goes to school part of his time. and is rapidly
progressing in learning. As to his future voca-
tion, that is not yet decided on. ‘

“ I don't want no other business,” he declares.
“I’m just as happy now as a clam at high wa-
ter. I can wallop the blackiii’ onto a boot, and
fetch out the polish, quicker and livelier than
any boy in these parts. And I'm takin’ in learn-
iii’ faster than an old turkey takes in com. If
that ain’t enough to satisfy any reasonable fel-
low, then I’ll sell out i— Here you are, sir!
Step up this way! Shine ’omi Shine ’eml ’

And no customer can resist the boy’s bright

 

face and cheery voice.
,. THE END.

   
   
   
   
   
   
 
  
  
  
     
   
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
   

   

   

 

 

bOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

\ ISSUED EVER Y

 

 

32 OCTAVO PAGES. /9E LE’S \ PRICE, FIVE CENTS.
POCKET LIBRARY.

 

 

V oooooooooooooowo—o’é
V WEDNESDAY.

 

1 Deadwood Di k, the Prince of the Rind. By Ed.
ward L. Whealrr.
2 Kfunafi-Irl King; or, The Red Right Hand. By Buf-
n.o i .
The Flying Ynnlr‘ee.
The Double Dangers. ily Edward L. Wlaelur.
The Two Doteotiven. Hy Alhvrt W. Ailien.
The Prairie 1’ lot. By Buffalo Hill.
The Buifulo Demon. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Antelope Abe, the Buy Guide. iiy 0|] Coonms,
Nod wyille. the Buy Smut. By “ ’i‘uxas Jack ”
r uifnlo “on, the Prince of the l’istul. By Edward
Winsolnr.
Roiph Roy. the Dav i‘accuneer. By C 1.1ngraham.
Nick 0' the NI ht. By T. C. Hill‘bltllu‘ll.
Yellowstone oak. liy Joseph it. Badger, Jr.
\Vild Ivan, tlw Buy Claude Durnl. By Edward L.
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Diamond Dirk. By Cninnvl Preatisa Ingraham.
Keen-Knife, l’rince t-l‘ the Prnil'ius, By Oil Comm-.3.
Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whirlien’a Boy Spy. By Capt.
J- . C. Adams
Dentin-Face, the Detertive. By E. L. Wheeler.
Loflao Jar-k. Hy Oil (Twines.
Roaring Ralph Rockwood, the Reckicu Ranger.
By llnrry St. (marge.
The Boy Clown. ily Frank S. Finn.
he Phantom Miner. By Edward L. Wheeler.
The Sea-Cnt. Uy Captain Frederick Whittaker.
4 The Dlnnh Spy. By Oll Canines.
'. Rattllu - Rube. By Harry St. George.
26 Old Ava. rtnche, the Gram. Annihilator. By Edward
L. Wheeler“
Gina-Eye, the Great Shot of the West. By Capt. J.
l". C. Adams. ,

By Col. l’rvntin lnuraham.

®N$€hFfl

p:
O

H HHH Hui-a...
3 N39! pam-

The Boy Captain. Br Roger Stm‘buck.
Dick Darling, the Puny Expreas Rider.
Predarick Whittaker.
Bob \Vooli‘. the iiordvr Radian. lly E. L. “'heelrr.
1 Nightingale Nut. By ". C. liarbaugh.
Binek John, the Road Agent. By J. E. Bitdzer, Jr.
ilmohn 011. the Mmlmi ’i‘error. iiy E. L. when...
Burt, Bunker. the Trapper. By George E. Lasalle.
The Boy Iliilen. By A. C. lrona.
The \Vhitc ii fl’nlo. By “(WNW Ev Lflsnllfi-
.lim Biudqoe. Jr. By Edward L Win-am.
NAcél llazei, the Boy Trapper. iiy'Cnpt. J. F. C.
ams.

89 Dead] ' Eve, the Unknown Smut. By liafl‘alu Bill.

40 Nick thiifle-z’nl’et. liy Capt. J. i“. C. Adams.
Deadwood Dick’s Euuiea. By E. L. Wheeler.
The Border King. By Oil Coumea.
01d lliokory. By Harry St. George.

The White Indian. Hy Capt. J. F. C. Adaml.
' Buckhorn Bill. By Edward L. Wheeler.

46 The flhndow Ship. lly Col. i’runtisr lntzrrtham.
The Red Brotherhood. By W. J. Hamilton.
Dandy Jack. lly T. C. liarhaagh.
llurricoue . ilr Jan-uh it}. lladger, Jr.

0 Single "and. ilv \V. J. Hamilton.
1 l'ntmtt-ientlu-r .loo. By Philip S. “’nrnn.
The Border llohiu llood. liy iiali‘alo Bill.

53 Gold Illile, tl Slittt-nxlinnter. ily Ed. L. Wheeler.

54 01d Zln’a (labia. By Capt. .i. i‘. C. Adams.

55 Dceiownre Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. By Oil

‘ trnlliefl.
56 Mad Tom Western. By W. J. iiatniitnu.
57 Deadwood Dick on Dot-la. By E. L. Wheelur.

58 iluwkeye llurry. lly on «mun-s.

69 The Do Duelist. liv Col. Prentiss incraham.

60 AIM.- Coi’t, the Crow-Ki ler. liv Albert W. Aiken.

61 Corduroy Charlie. tho Buy Bravo. By Edward L.

Wheeler.

62 Will flolnern. the liny thoctivu. By Cillil. Morris.

“3 Sol Gin or, this Giant Train-er. By A. W. Aiimn.

64 Ronelm Roi). By Edward L. Whamler.

65 Likhtnimr Joe, the Terror of the Prairie. By Capt.

~66 l ‘ f‘. Adams.

By Capt.

 .Il/urei'oot, the Wood-Hawk. By T. C. “ar-
haugh.

 

Rollo, the Boy Ranger. By 0]] Gnomes.
ldyl, the Girl Miner. Ii' Edward L. Vt'heoler.
Detective Dick. By having Morris.
inure Shoo Both, the Boy Riiloman. By Oli Cnomrl.
sharp burn; or, The Adventure: ofai‘riend.esu Boy.
Tia)- Jx. lAlcxlll'l'dnll' Patten.

e . on o t to Sen. By Albertw. Aiken.
l’hntoFruph Pin“, the Boy Sleuth. By Edward L.

When er.
Picayune Pete. By Charles Morris.
Inland. Jim; or,’l'he Put oi' the Family. By Brace-
hridue I‘it‘lilyitfl (Jul-k liarkaway). i
“Hitch-Eye. thu Shadnw. By Edward L. “'heelar.
Dick Dead Eye, tho Boy Smuggler. By Col. 1’. in-
78 ligmiim a TI i.’ n l n
on woo . o ' 11 ev (-e. v Ed. L. \Vheelt-r.
79 The Black Muutnn rr. B3 C ‘
Reid and Frederick WhitiEtliur. } “1mm. fimnyuo
930 old Fronty, the Guide. By T. C. Hurhnugh.‘
81 The Son V Iper. Hy Cnl. Prentiss Ingraham.
82 Seth Jones; or, The Captivel oi the Frontier. By
Edward S. HHS.
88 Canada Chet, the Countarfeiter Chief. By Edward
l. Vltaeler.

84: The Dumb Po 0. RV Ca t. Frederick Whittaker.

1-35 The Boy Ming‘u. By E w rd S. Ellis.

86 Jack llorkuwny in New York.
bridge Hemynu.

R? The "minor Ca tuln. By (‘01. Prentiss Inxruham.

8.5 Deadwood Die in Leudvillc. By Edward L.

“'heeler.
99 Bill Biddon Trapper. By Edward S. Eilia.
90 ’l ippy, the cxnn. By Geiirue Git-anon.

91 Muntunz Sam, the King of the Plains. By Jot. E.
Badger, Jr. .

92 The Ocean Bloodhound. By Samuel W. [‘t-uce.

98 Phil "only, this Boss Buy. By Charles Morris.

94 Deadwood Dial; M Detective. By E. L.Whoeinr.

95 Buck lluckrnm. By Captain J. F. C. Adams.

96 Gilt-Eldged Dick, the Sport Detective. By E. L.
DI! \‘l'.

97 The Block Steed of the Prairies. By Jnmefl
L. Bowun.

By Brace-

By Juan Lewis.
By E. L. Wheeler.
By ‘

98 The Sea. Serpent.

99 Bonanza Bill, the Man Tracker.

100 Not Todd! or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive.
Edward S. Ellis. ‘

101 During Davy, th- Young Bear Killer. By Harry
St. George. , J

103 ThoYeliow Chief; or,The llali-iblooda Vengeance.
By Capt. Mayne Raid.

103 Chip, the Girl Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler.

104 The Block Schooner. By Roger Starhack.

105 "and-onto. Harry, the Boothlack Detectiw. lly
Charles Morris. ’

100 Night-llawk Kit.
Rmtly Jun nary :0.

10’? Jack Hoyle, the Young Sveeu ator.
L. Wheulur. Ready January '17.

105 Rocky Mountain ,Kit. By T. C. i-iarhaugh.
lit-ally February 3.

109 Thu Branded “and.
Randy February 10.

By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.

By Edward

By Frank Dumont.

Bendie’a Pocket Library in fur iaiu by all Nam.
dealer], five gentl per copy, or lent by mail on receipt of Iix
tent: each.

BEADLE &: ADAMS, Publisher-n,
98 William Street, New York.