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3 “9‘1" No. ‘38 \VILLIAM Sn. NEW YORK. 1"” 00"“-

 

 

r’  N0 343 $2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, Price, V01 

 

 

WITH A SKILLFUL TRIP DBISCOLL SENT SHIELDS SPINNING HEADLONG [N TEE
FAST FLOWING TIDE.

 

I!

8  “I,

 

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

' Milli, the Bowery Detective;

Peleg Prancor of Vermont.

/ BY ED. L. WHEELER,

AUTHOR or “ nuanwoon max” NOVELS, “ BOSE-
BUD non" nouns, 1:10., arc.

' CHAPTER I.

THE BEGINNING or A PECULIAR CASE.
“ I'm Detective Mike, of the Bowery-obi
Whatever I do, I always make go,

I‘m a worry fly lad,
But you bet I m no cod——
I‘m Detective Mike, 0‘ the Bowery—chi"

Tm: sing-song tone in which the above verse
was uttered, together with the reckless abandon
of the singer, proclaimed that he was a little, if
not considerably, the worse, from the effects of
Bowery stimulant. -

Yet, in every sense, the young man evidently
understood what he was about. r

He was one of that species of humanity, the
rather “loud” and “fast” young ,man of the
Metropolis, with the shrewdness, ready wit and
common sense of an experienced man of the
world. .

Somewhere between the ages of eighteen and
twenty-one years, and not hardly of the average
stature, he was, withal, Possessed of a wiry and
graceful ii to. which. ‘ dressed to kill” as it
was, showe plain! that the owner was not a.
stranger to physics exercise.

In face, he was not to say handsome, although
a keen observer would have found features very
pleasing to the eye.

It was rather a hawkish face—that is to say,
the features were sharp of cost—49. fact that no-
wise detracted from their expression of sagacity
or intelligence. The face was as smooth as a
beardless face could be; the, mouth wore an ex-

ression of waggishness, and his eyes were of the
Sacra black and most penetrating power.

is. hair, on the contrary, was of a light-

gemwn color, and as curly as it possibly could
His attire was in the height of prevailing
fashion, and by no means inex nsive, com riso
in all the novelties require to make a rat-
classyblood— old-beaded cane, eye—glasses, the
daintiest of g oves, polished “ dicer,” and no end
of jewelry, all of which was superior in quality
to the. generality of, that worn by‘tho modern
“ dude”—-which, evidently, it was Mike, the
Bowery Datecti ve‘s intention to pox-senate.

He had serenely invaded one of the numerous
saloons that flank either side of the Bewery,

 

and after casting a furthe glance at the few-

' r'omzlblooking,r customers the place afforded, he

‘ wh'ohad plainly pa
,‘Ming-experiehoes, gave the young bloods sharp

fronted up to the bar, and uttered the single
word: '

“ Whisk l"

The bartender, a lar erbuilt, hard-faced man,
through some of life’s

401‘ ad '

 

2
“Hello! Is it you, Mike?” he demand That i1

. .

What’s come over you, boy? Not on not!
racket, I hope?"

‘f You hope?” Mike echoed. “ You must be
struck the wrong vocation, Terry, to hopt .
foller had shot do No on booz. What’s the ;. - mthe

burly, g‘
map 0: 1

th , - _ in
tefeusgéénégerry, that makes yer so specially wigggl‘
“A good reason, Mike. There’s bette; e :1 1 $95
more profitable employment for you than soak 19m,
erself with had rum. Ye’r’ as outeo detecti‘ c y“; E
‘ke, as ther’ is in New York, and there’ss " ‘_ Md 1,.
open ter sling yorself in l" .  Wm} a
Mike’s eyes kindled with enthusiasm. 7 u No
“ Is there a job to be done, Terry, that I i roam
git away from the regulars?" " pou’rs
H You bet there is! and I judge it is a fat 0 ymn
tool You know that me brother Pat is par! Put
up at the Hotel Devonshire, Forty-second stre'! “P
an’ has a clipper eye for all that’s going L “1

Well, here’s what he hastelegra had me!"

He handed Mike an American pid telegrai," YES
which was worilel as follows: , {me
“Tuner—Send u tho fellow ye callMlke, 4‘“
Bowery Detective. art job for him. 61001
I “ PAT Ramon". 

The Bowery Blood scratched his curly hear 6,“
perused the message a second time, and the “
glanced at his handsome gold watch. ‘ Mi}
“ It’s not late yet, and 1’11 trot up andse op

what’s wanted. I'l‘herc ain’t much show for m ' ‘
unless the job’s private, for the regular fore "
contrive-to rin in ahead of me at every op ' r
tunity. Bob riscoll is mainly the cause 0?? ~ 7 ‘
ain’t on lip-smackiny- ‘8

     

 

too. Ya know he and I

ternis,,an’ bein’ in with the regulars a’n’the 1.}
police, his main aim Seems tor be tor crushvme':

and baffle whatever plans I try to push (or ,1
word.” "- ' fl

“ Why don’t yez black his eye for him ’1" Terry
demanded, indignuntly. “ Sure, I’ll be atth’e
doin’ it it he runs afoul me.” , _ . .

“ I’ve got it in for him!" Mike declared with i ':r
nod, “ but prefer to catch him in some crooked ‘ v
ness an’ get him bounced, rather than have 25,.
scrappin'—match with him. Well, I’m off after,
the Job, and will wait till I’m done before you?
set out the decanter!" - 7‘ V ' ‘v

And with a Eeculiar smile in _ his {wide
foo: he left 1: e saloon, at a rather unstead

alking down‘the‘ Boweryto Grand 
he took then town Elevated cars, and was soon.
landed at orty-socond street near the Grand
Central depot. '
From here he made his way direct to
Devonshire, but a few yards distant, , >

Entering the office he made an‘ “
of theregister. purchased a cigar, and seated
Self to wait ‘for the appearance of Pat. who was;
not resent. . ‘ , _ .

bile puflingat “ the Weed," he made a-n’l'osé
optical invent) ot the several 
werelouaglngl t,:an‘d camoftothe 1m .
ate canal on that none of them want. in
ve’s assistance.  v ' ~ -

He was unaoqlnalnted with the hosteiry’s
clerk, and cone nded,that about the mos
ble thing he could do was to make his
of porter Reilly. r - ‘

  

 

   
  

 

   
    
    
   
       
  

 
  
 
 

   
  
   
     
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 

   
 
 
   
  

  
 
  

‘ x

 
 

\

'1‘ * I like. the Bowery Detective.
Q

   
 
 

'3'

 

he demand

Not on “not, That individual soon appeared, and was a
'burly, good-natured-looking fellow with the

You must bi map of Ireland indelibly engraved upon his

W, to ho countenance. '

Vhat’s gbepf As he appeared to be at leisure, M1116 hopped

> ’speciany‘ into the bootrblacking chair, and signaled Put

to give him a shine, knowing that he could thus

3’8 bone" 8 engage him in conversation without the usual

Either] 303 lulqlkreSIIIte of being scowled at by the hotel

undo - 0 er .

thong?!“ Put produced his tools and eel: to work with a
 Will, but Mike checked his energetic movements

Sm. t" with a‘ gentle reminder.

y, that I; “ Not so fast, me buck—oi” he said. “ I’ve a
 productiva cornfield under cultivation where

isa fab you’re plowin'. Then, too, I’ve got a flea for

.at is p03: ‘ your car.”

acond sum Put looked up with a speculative squint.

’5 gain (I “Phat is it?" he demanded. " Be yees Mike?”

1 met" “ l he pen to be that some majestic being, at

yer eervme," was the repl ‘. “ I got wind. of the
job up here and I am be ore you in all my pris-

d telegragv
' d
itine‘glor .

 

l ,
“1 Mike. t7 hl yKape u still tongue on ycz. Whin the
clock yonder strikes ten, give yer card to the
.RE’LLY.” clerk an’ tell him that ytz wnnt to see Mr. Pelog
U'ly he,“ Pram-er. Whiu yo see him yo must Inuke yer
and the own hizness.”
- “ Bet I’ll do that, if there’s an to be done,”
0 and.” Mike assured, witha wink. “ W nt’s the nature
w for m of the beast?" 7 _ _
‘lar fore ‘ “Och! bedad, 313’ it’s :1 gnu-e one be Is; Irish
ry op - r I fromtheeonntbry, too, an as green as a bit 0’
nae ‘  g, . . . ,'
smagkilg‘, ; 7 “6' 6’3 my mutton: then !” Mike declared.
; an:  ‘3 l’_m particular fond o’ incklin’ cases where the
rush me, pluintifl’ duu’t know more’n th 3 counsel."
After his leathers were polished up like a

ush '
191' V , ’ mirror, Mike proceeded to the office counter and

r threw down his card.
‘  I “ M. MAVERICK,
“ Private Detective,”

83', 4 finds: nit.
 toiggid-thut up-to Mr.
m 28,” Mike said, referring to the

re ister.
he clerk gave him a scorching stare, and
touched the bell for a, call-boy, whom be dis-
patched with the card. _
“Do you know anything about the party in
28!” theclerk asked, still regarding Mike with
‘_ freezing keenuees. _ ‘ - '
' “‘I have not that honor, I believe.” the Bow-
ery boy replied. ‘ “ I was sent for, and hence, I
. urn here.” 7
“ Mr. Prancer sent for you, eh i”
“I resume so. What of it!”
‘ Q ,ncthing in particular, only that I re-
nim as an exceedingly eccentric person.
e came rushing into the otel to-day, like a

Texan steer on ,‘the mmpage,.and it was some
I time before we could get him quieted down suffi-
ciently to «(and him toe. room. Unless you work
We callattus before you do the case, I'd advise

F ,> have little to do With him.”

‘, ed'the clerk sharply, only concealing
113’!an ‘ by an eflort.

That a hotel clerk,

   
 

   
 

   
  

  

  
  
  
   
  

ially one
as the

belonging
to such an ‘ , o' \

    

through so trying an ordeal,” Mike declared.

 

mime, I meet, zlt‘will be but the matter of, a; few days

     
  
 
  
     
  
   
   
   
     
   
    
  
   
  
   
        
     
 
     
   
   
   
      
 
     
      
  
     
   
    
     
       
      
    
  
   
  
     

should contribute such a remarkable bit of ad-
vice, was beyond Mike’s understanding.

He was just deliberating on what answerto
make, when he was saved the trouble by the
call-boy’s return.

“ Mr. Prnncer will see the gentleman in his
room. This way, sir," and the boy led ofl’.

Mike followed. and was directly ushered into
the presence of Mr. Peleg Prancer, of Porcupine
Corners, Vermont.

Mr. Pranccr was lying upon a sofa, and mo-
tioned Mike to a seat without arising?

He was. a. long, lank, l‘uwboued ankee, or
uncertain age, probably lpast thirty years, yet
not over fifty. His angu er features, with high
cheek—bones, sunken eyes, a. capricious mouth!
and a stubble of yellowish beard of three weeks
growth, made it pretty hard to guess whether
he was 9. young or a. middle-aged man. His hair
was of theeamo color as his heard, an had evi-
dently not known the use of a comb or brush for
a long time.

He was dressed in a suit of coarse homespun
stuff—wore stogy boots of large size, a flaring
red necktie, a huge steel watch-chuin' and u.
battered, ancient-style plug but, an time-
wul‘n umbrella lay upon the floor, beside the
couch. '

All in all, he had a. decidedly backwoods
countr appearance and was 21 curiosity upon
which ike feasted ’his eyes with nvidit .’

His homespun suit was well dusted With flour,

a fact that tended to indicate that Peleg Prnnccr
was the miller of that fur-away burg, Porcupine
Corners.

“ Wan], young man, what d’ye wont?" Mr.
Peleg Prancer demanded, turnin his head
sufficiently to get a fair view of the ‘owery de-
tective. , '

“ I believe my card expressed the nature of
my errand,” Mike responded, the while taking
in the “ points” of the Yankee. “ I believe you
are in need of the services of a detective.” .

“ Domed of ye hain’t hit the nail plum on the
head,youn teller! That’s jest the thing Ido
want. -ReC'on you count yerself competent to
fill the bill, eh?” , ,

" I have chosen that line of business as a pro
fession,” Mike assured, with a. smile, “ and am
open for engagement whenever or wherever my é »_
services are needed.”

“Wanl, I‘ll swowl Ye don’t look big nn’
ztrolng enuff tor milk twenty cows, darned of ye

o. ,

“I hope I may never be called’npon to pass

“ W hntl didn’t ye never milk cows?"

“ Oh, no! I’ll give yo a. friendly tip on
that.” y . V
“Been fetched up in a college, an’ fed on
sponge cake, hey?” . ' ..
"Cert. Bin through Harvard, Yale, Black-
well’s Island, the Rb al Conservuto of—” ' .

“ Great Jeminyl a don’t tell me!”

“ You have heard, me articulate.” ~'
h “én’ so yeou hev ‘turned out a. detective,
ey . 

“ I am proud to say I have. Young in years, '
though I am I am proud to any that nm'toreé
most in the first-clans ranks of the detective eleé

  

Mike. the Bowery Detective.

 

-*‘ until I become chief of the whole detective force
‘ of this vast city.”

» '“ Wual, by 9:01! yo don’t say so! You’re the
‘ very chop I’m arter then. I want a feller that
is smart as clminiiuhtuin’, yr» we, un’ I suppose
you calculate yo kin ill! the hill?"

“ If I can’t, Honorable: Mr. l’runcer, there isn’t
a chap in New York that can l”

V , Mr. Pmuccr svemed deeply impressed at hav-
j lug honorable prefixed to his title.

“By the way, sir, how is your millng busi-
ness getting: on at Porcupine Corners?" Mike
pursued. “I have frequently seen your name
nmntioned in New York papers as a producer of

> the finest flour in Vermont.”

“ Indeed/l” Mr. Prnnccr looked a little doubt-

v ful about this. ” That’s the furst I ever kneer

MI was so fur known from home. I suppose tho’,
at hire 90, Yo see, I don’t take no back sent at
gristcgrindin’ nowhar over the, State 0’ Ver—
moat.

“Ohl thnt isa well-known fact. You see, it
doesn’t take a man of your well-known business
stumling long to get free advertising in mer~
cantilo circles. I resume it half of our reputed
rich men of New ork had as good a standing:r
to-duy as you, Mr. Pruncer, Bradstreet’s would
not have to chronicle so many failures. But,
now, let us get down to business. Business is
»_ business, ye know in the Metropolis, and we of.

_ the perfesb don’t have lunch time to do chores,
except for money. You, I believe, are in wunt
" of a detectiva?” I

' "Lord a’mighty, yes l” 2

“ When did ya arrive here, Mr. Prancer?”

., “This mprnin’, from Hartford. I cum there
- from Porkypine Corners.” ‘

“ I, suppose; accordingly, your mission is a
very important one?"

“.I’ll be gin-darned of it nin’t. I never was so
mad atom in all my horn days. I s’pose I acted
kinder mad downstairs, but I wau mad, an’
« when Prior, Pmncer gits mad, he’s wuss ’n a
v Mexican lion l” _ ,

VVnether Mr. Prnncer’a education in natural
history had been sadly. neglected, or whether
he intended the reference to the Mexivuu lion as
n hit of Yankee facetiousuess, Mike was hardly

' prepared to gadge.

,Prancer’a lieu betrayed nothing".

V . “I hear you wan mlhvr violent below.” Mike

. _ said, “and would like ifyou desire to employ
-. me, I‘D-haven brief explanation of the caSeI
» have to undertake.”

"2 , .Praucer tooku chew of tobacco from a. tin

box and then began:

. z “ Wan], I cackilutewhut I tell to ye won't go

no further?” .

 “ Certainly not, except that necessity requires
' it to advance- the case.’

. ,“ Kerrect. Yo. see, I want the thing did up in

brown Shape, an’ luin’t no use tor hev over -

holy stickin‘ their snout inter the hizness. a

know ,my namev-I’olcg Pmucm', Eqkwire, 0’

I’ox‘kypino Corners. Vermont. Guess ’must nigh

Meryl)me knows where Porkypiue Corners is,
“’99 there’s more porkypincs killed tharabouts

Over . :u' thun in any other part of the State.

- ' al. I own the grist-mill that, an’ of I do

v laid away quite a snug sum fer a

I up" we aliens has plenty to eat in the

 

bargain. On course we don’t dress tar kill but
allers hes euufl on so we never fretze our shins
in (mid weather.” ‘

“ I take it you nm a Benedict?"

“Goldnrn yer pivter, no! I’m uI’mncor
every day in o week and twice on Sunday,
01d Jnke Benedict, the internal mean skunk,
lives a mile beluw me, an’ he’s Yicaner than
thunder, he is. “Why, would, ye x’lleve it, he
goes un’ lets down the rail fence urter‘darkmh’
lets his Cows inter the neighbors? grain.”

“ But, sir, you misunderstand me. 1-

“No sech a darned thing. I know jest a]
about it. Ther’ ain’t only one Benedict in the
neighborhood, an’ that’s old Jake. Everybody:
knows him. He’s the dirtiest sculawag in
Vermont.” ‘

“ But, let me explain: here, in New York, we
have a fashion of calling married men Benedle
I meant to propound the idea, sir, that ye Were a
married man)" " ' ~ ‘

“Me married? Gosh alllflsh-hooks, I should
say sol Why, Young feller.1’ve got a gal as
big as you, au’ it’s all on account 0’ her that I
am liver!”

“ Ah! yes. Now you’re gettin’ down to busi-
1105?. Go ahead.” . _ . 1 . ,
“ An’ so ya call married men B'enedicfi,
hyer in New York 3”

“Of course.” - ' r

“ Wee], let me tell ye one thing, young feller‘
—-don"t yer never come up for Porkygpine Cor-
ners 311’ cell none 0' the married folk? enedicts.
ef ya don’t want ter git yer care 55 filled full 0’
buckshot. Why at ye’d call a fel er a Benedict,
thar,ye‘d get tar-an’-l‘eathered quicker’n the
jerk of u lumb’s tuil—an’ a fine-wool ewe lamb
at thutl” , . ' ,

Mike did not smile. He-wfipthamip, “
of a. hundred who could compose his-1e3-
tures, even when he was ready to burst with
hm liter.

9 saw that the Vermonter was liable
prattle on all night, without coming, [305%
point, if he was not checked. " ‘ " ‘ 7

“ Well, what about this girl of yours?"

“Oh! yes. Waal, she skipped.” .

“ Ahl eloped, eh i" .

“That’s what ye call it, I an pose. ,‘Skl
is nod enough for me. est ter;  '
fete ed that gal up ’cordin' tarfidflfl‘én iii-11
she was seventeen, an’ theuup an l~-ft 
hnm’ an’ parents. Beer, read this letter—815’
will tell yo a. darned sight more than 1 kingin
an hour’s talk.” ., 3 ‘

He took a. couple of sheets of per 1118
pocket, which were covered iv thewfiting, and
handed them'to Mike-c ' ,' 5 i _

That individual tool: ime tolight a cigar, and

” r

then began the perusal.

The lettel? was written in a fine, clear style of ‘

chirogrnph’y, and run thus: x E
' “ Acous'r 10, 1

“ 1mm FATnuu:——By tie time you. race“
you will doubilcsS have learned t '1 NS
my home forever. It will be '
‘me. for I have gone, in quest
better than I do the he pry honie I have always hm
~umil recently. You now wwhat I refer. by)
and it is useless for me to say more on the m
When. in all mij He, was I ever
shocked than when yonr d turned -- .

3

a

 

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

Hal? It nearly drove me frantic. but I had courage
enough to aid him to escape the harsh penalties of a
, terrible accusation—an accusation as unjust as the

world is unmercitul. I
"Then, too, other troubles have been weighing
:' me down. I have left behind me letters that l have
' received during the last two ruomhs~lrtturs and
newspaper clippings, which, though a my '3’ ‘5')
me, are of course intended but for one purpo Lalo
foreverrninmy life and hamnncss‘. i dan not re
~ main to face it, all; my heart is broke~my existence

~ is a. hideous terror tome. ‘ ~
“So. forgiviugall. and praying for all to forgive
me. whom I ma have disgraced by this step. I am
gom away. shall find Ned. and»ba hap y.
Dup mom of the letters. and clippings, have fa en
in 0 other hands, and through them only you may
, be able to find out who is my unknown persecutor
or petsecutors, be they one or more.
“ Your daughter,
*‘ Guam."

CHAPTER. II.
> , .- smmol '
 sumo road the letter but once, then looked
suddenly up from the missive and gave the Ver-
monter a keen glance.

“WHO is this Gracie?" he (ll-mauded, sharply.

The Yankee’s face did not change an iota
from its original and usual expression ol’
stolidity.

“Who is she? Darn it 81], didn’t I 98]] ye in
the fu'st start she Was my darwr? What more
d’ewanm-.w . ’

'  abru tness,” and the Bowery
nfié‘twtive gazed bar at the floor. “ Gracie is

your daughter. She had it lover, and his name
. was Ned 3”

“Yes. Ned Shields."

“ Edward Shields?"

“ Yas—Ned, fer short.”

., Vii-Judging by the tone of your daughter's let-
‘iler, Edward was accused of doing something
naughty i”

“ Gui—darn his picter, yes!

>ont~an’_-out 3h.  , . »
'W   circumstances of the

He war a thief—4;

'“ Waal, ye see, this feller Shields was a
nephew of old Simon Sanger. at the Comers,
an’ used to post his books. Sanger war a speed-

,' Winter, and one thing another, and, next to me,
was the richest clmp there. " Ned» was a poor
. relation, ya see. and was sorter tool; in ter his
" uncle’s employ tor charity’s sake." 4 
' '“ls‘ce. Goon." .
4* Wool, old Sanger an‘ I wurn’t much friends,
, , an’ ' the old cuss objected ter Ned’s
. iin’ to see Gracie. an’ 1 rfectiy agreed
with him, on (flat, ma" Ned 1111’ had sum words,
‘ 911’ darn his meter. henwrarod he’d have my
5:3. in: spite of me! Then I booted him off ’In
‘ ‘ place. ' Next thing we knowod. tliar was a
big rumpus. Old Sanger and Ned bed had a
' spilt u , an‘ Ned were lxiunoad. an’ ther report
were i: et Sunger's discarded'aon were for come
‘ But he didn’t, tbo’, forme reason or

.ggy

within a day or t'wo, there was an—
clan. Some one had entered old
'Sangar’lhouae' through a window, an’ stole
two clumsau'dolla , The:- same night, my
aorrel boss was 

 

,and ’spishnn  A

to Nod Shields. A warrant was swoared out.
un’ I bein’ constable, I was sent after him.
But, darn his picter, he was no where to be found.
The pust-oflls clerk sed he bud hecrd him speak
0’ comiu’ for New York. Next day, my gal she
cut sticks and run, :11)’ that’s the hull of it, ’(rept
that ]. am ili’l‘l' arter ’em, on’ of I find that
durncd thief, l’ll set him up in thuboot business,
ye kin bot, purty lively.”

“ You think he came to New York?”

U Yes.”

“And the girl, too?”
1.“(;)’n course she did. She was spooney alter
um.

“‘ What about the letters and newspaper clip-
pings she alludes to?"
_  Didn’t find none, ’cept one, and hear that
is

He extended to Miko a soiled sheet of letter-
paper on the top of which was printed:

“ WARREN & 00., STOCK BROKERS
144 Hester sh,‘N. Y.” >

The letter ran as follow:

“ MADEMOISELLE Gmcw‘ — ~

" Once more 1 warn you that if you do not come
to me. and fulfill your promise of marriage, I shall
send an officer after you, and thorn will be quite a.
scene in your-home. Your complicity in executing
the forged draft on the bank Aon Wall street. is sus-
pected, and detoctivos are on their way to your
lace. If they gobble onto you, it will be our-own
unit, for not coming: hpre, Hurry u an execute
that check on the First National of lgclfast, Maine.
and then licth out, and come here. It is a hundred-
i’old safer Jhere. for those of our craft. Mindl if
they latch you don’t you give me away. and I'll. get
you out of the scrape. Money, position, and mini-
cal influence, is a power, nowadays. you now.
Should Tou come. first write, addressing ‘B. Y. Z.
121V.  down town) Hzmlrl, oflice,‘ stating hour ri'
arrival. ‘ our Own, forever, “Squarzrx.”

This letter was penned in a dashing style of
ohirography- unquestionably a. man’s hand-
writing. . .

A faint smile was on Mike’s face as be read
on.

“This was the only letter you found?” 110‘
nskesdl, finally, putting the missive in his pocket. , .

I5  i ‘

“ Was your daughter always at home?” '
“ 0n course she was.” .

“Did she'havo on regular company?” .
“Not by a dame sight. We fillers fetched
her up ’cordin’ to Scripter, an‘ she never had a

,feller ’cept Ned Shields.”

“This letter is dated New York, July 7th.
Was Shields in Porcupine Corners then?” ' ;

‘L Yns.” I V .

1‘ Then you don’t suspect him of being in an
way connected with the writing of this letter '

‘quess not, onless ho had some cuss hear. 1 \
a-doin’ the job.” ' r A ~ -‘

“What could be his object in doing such a-
thing? I infer, from your mention of him, that
he loved your daughter.” ’ ' .

“ Cuss his picter, that’s what be sad. . Bo
Inved her enulf, anyhow, to steal my horas and '

’ skedadille." -

" Are you positive he was tho coloritl‘l

" ‘ “One‘oursa. Who else did it?"

“Armand persons  have 

 

   

Mike, the Bowery Detective. ‘ l,

 

 

Never condemn a man until sure you have goml
cause to do so, by the possession of proofs. In
my opinion, this Shields is not the man he is
pictured.”

Mr. Peleg Pram-or evidently did not regard
this view with an y too much favor.

“ I ’spect et ain’t none 0’ yer iiiznoss, of he is
' or not!” he growled. “ Yer hired ter find him

Athat’s all. D‘ye see?”

“ Certainlyl You pay me to find Mr. Edward

Shields and turn him over to» you.”

“ You‘ve hit it now!”

7 . “ And you, likewise, want me to find your
daughter!"

' , “ ()n course I do!”

‘ “ Well, is that all?”

“ No, by thunder, no! When she scootcd, she
tuk a little tin trunk or safe. contuinin’ papers
of the utmost value to me. Them must be
$1111rl,yef we hev tor raise every stone in New
’ Wk 1’

Prancer had arisen, and spoke with’unnsual
vehemence-excitedly, nervously.

His hitherto inscrutable countenance, now
Wore a hard, grayish expression, that forcibly
indicated his nature to be not of the meekest—
v , nor dlll Mike like the glitter of his eyes.

- “ What are these papers?" Mike asked quietly.

“None of yer hiznoss. They haven’t nuthin'
ter do with the case. I want the feller nii’ gal
—that’s alll” ‘

I All which it became apparent to Mike that

Prancer was playing a part. i

“ [suppose ye'r’ aware that in a city like New
York, it will not be an easy job to find Jeni?"

, “ That ain’t none 0’ my nll’uirs. You get paid

i to find 'em, an’ that’s your lookout."

,i “ You can give an accurate description of the

parties?"

. “ Yas. Shields is medium figure, an’ light-
complected, with brown hair on’ mustache. He
is twenty—four years old, comin’ January, an’
aim sort of spruced up, like yourself. T e gel
is seventeen, on7 dark coniplccted. She's the

- ,pnrtiest gal at the Corners—bus black eyes and

)mir, and is smart as chain-lightniii’."

‘ “I presume a detective needn’t look an hour

without findin’ ’em, of he went‘iliy that descrip-

  
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
     

. tlon,” Mike observed, dryly. ‘ av’o you pho~
. , 1203 of this irecious pair?" ~
“Yes. ere they aim!” ‘
He handed Mike two cards which evidently
, had heen recantly taken,
V‘The one was of a. remarkably pretty young
lady, of pleasant face-«a decided irunette, and
'ono'whom it would not be hard to remember,
r‘whon once seam
The other portrait Was of a man answering
' somewhat to Francer's descrl tion of Nod
Shields-4'19 picture of a good» coking young
3 1 tollow,’ who appeared anything but of a villain—
7 cos type of clmrecter. . ,
Althou h ho resembled a hundred and one
 men to V met daily upon the streets of the
Metropolis, he had one distinguishing peculiari—

~ ’ combined with an aristocratic, cultured ex-
Kefiiion countenance was a piercing look of

intense that it would seem it was the
momma hisgaze rested, upon. ,

  

 

   

 
  

 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  

he owner of the photo-loco to magnets

dent lose the photos.”

 

  

Mike‘s experience in the business he had chosen " ’ « ' 
nsaprofession had not been extensive, but he ‘ 
was naturally a keen student of human
character, and his attention was centered for
several moments upon the two pictures.

Peleg Prancer at length interrupted him:

“ Well, what (l’ye make out?”

“Oh! nothin’ much. I was memorizing the
faces. so I would know them should Lby'acci—

“ Ye’r’ cute, you uirei D’ye think ye can'
find the pair?”

“I firesume very like]
think have seen this gent email. Mr. Shields

“ Mister Shieldsl Weal, I’ll swow! Yelloh’t
mean to call that scalawag Mister !”

“Certainly, Mr. is a mark of respect that
every one ought to use, no matter what he the
circumstances." ' ‘

“ You’re a quare one. But say, where'd ye
see him?" .. ‘ _
“That is part of my own professional busi-
ness. Iain not supposed to disclose my secrets

gratuitously.”

“Ohl ye hain’t, eh? Ye want a feller ter
give ye a dinner on greenbacks More ye cum
ter time?” ’

“No, sir. I estimate my expenses on a case, .v '
make my charge accordingly, and, if I have
anything to part With, 1 let her go. My motto, -
however, is: ‘Find out much an’ give away lit-
tle till the pie is done.’ In other words, the
quiet hog drinks the better share of the swill,
and puts better and more profitable pork on the
market than the squealer does.” . ,

“ Dunno but yc’r’ right. Now ter bizne‘Ss. ». .- 
What will ye produce the teller, the a], an’ the O '
box an’ papers for within forty-eight ours from '
now, without fail? ’

Mike took a good look at the Vermontcr, then
glanced at his watch. .

“To-night“ August 20th, and thetime is ex- _  j, . .
actly hal —past ten. Within lofty-eight hours '  l i
from date, for the sum of three hundred dollars - ‘7 ‘
I will iroducc before you Edward Shields and
Grace rancer. Terms: Half cash in advance;
bfiufcel) on delivery 126d th we be: '

r. rancer re 11 n e ta ore
which he now  p0 , ,
_ A closet door opened, and a man stepped out
intotlieroom. ‘ _ ’ V j _,
f “ Bob Driseolll” Mike uttered, springing to his  '
e .

at.

“You betl”,that Worthy uttered, “and I 1111-. :v ‘
derbid you, just an even hundred.” '
“ That would be nothing new for you to do,”
Mike cried, his eyes flashing with indignation.
“ if you want the Job, Sneaker Drlscoll, you arch,
perfectly welcome to it. Mr. Peleg Prancer’s hit
of Yankee strategy has satisfied me that I should
not desire to work up his case for him at any
price. So the field is entirely open tglyou. V »
“Lookee herol” Driscnll cried, he gerontly.
“ What d’yo mean by callin’ me fSn‘ alter?!”

“I believe that (is a title you are've well
known by!" Mike rotormd, coolly, “and have
a special penehon’tror the tel-mail: fits 67a!"
closely as though ground in b an emery-w p 3’
.“Cuss your an udenoe I’l thrasbtthe lit out,
of you lav; that, e Moverickl’kand Jim
lookedm age. I ’ I V "

I can. In fact,,I

 

 

 

      
    

 

 
   
  

   
  
  
   

    

    
   
 

 

 
  

   
      

   
 
    
 
 

  
 
  

  
 
  
 

 

   

,1 {7” I  Mike, the Bowery DetectiVe. V

 

l - He was a heavy-sci; young fellow, possibly

' three ears the Bowery Detective’s senior, witha

“beard ens, bulldog sort of countenance, develd

- or refined outlines, and a pair of snaky eyes that
were by no means of honest expression. _

His attire was neither neat nor attractive,

and he looked \\ but he was—atypical rowdying,

bullying city rough.

‘- A person would have been led to suppose that
‘ he was an over-match for Mike in a light, but tho
Bowery boy was evidently not of that Opinion.

“ You use prett strong Words. Mr. Driscolll”
he said provoking yt _ “ It has never been your

. privilege w thrash Mike Mavei ick yet that I am
,, own to of,”

f‘Meblie, ye think I can’t do it?" Driscoll
snarled. .

“ If I were to express my 0 )inion candidly, it
would likely surprise you!" ll ike smiled, tanta-
lizingiy. “ Let me tell you, Bob Driscoll, that I
don’t fear you at all, and though you have used

' every means to spoil the success of my adven-
tures heretofore, Iaccredit it to the fact that.
you are a rough, ignorant lont, jealous of every
oue’s superior accomplishments, and malignant

, toward those who are better than you, because
you are too mean a sneak and loafer to help
yourself out of the uneuviable sphere you oc-
‘cu .vl” V

ith a vengeful fervor did Mike utter these
words; he meant every word to count, and it did.

.s- Driscorl’s brow new, literally, as black as a
:_ gunfireloudandfie doubled up his fists threat.

"“ l’arn‘ ye to bla’guuril me, ye IOVV-lquil

" Bowery bum !" he cried. “ l’ll sp‘ile some 0' your
fine feathers, now that l’ve a chance.”

i, i“ That‘s right. Pitch in, boys! The feller that

’ licks ih the teller I want!” l’eleg Prnncer do—

_ stared, etting near the door, either with a view

ofrihuténg off the chance for either of the men

,, to escape, or else taking the position with a View

 oi? escaping, should an assault be made upon

him.

Dri ,-uttening. ' ,m ' l rushed fierce] at
mamwéazy’boy: intent $33 hocking him’out,
in short order; but Mike was not knocked out
by any means. His black eyes were fixed upon
, therivul doti-ctive,and .as he rushed forward

 the young blood leaped lightly to one side, and
'miroitly tripped the bully. '

Down. with a, crash that Jarrod the floor,
went ‘Driacoll, striking l‘uirly upon his face,
,hrifil causing a. jet of claret to spurt from his nos-

 

 

  

 

 

 

   
 
 

8. .
WK low laugh escaped the bower-y boy.

Quickly regaining his feet. with an infuriated
cry, Driscoll once more sprung toward his ad-
W' ti: ‘f a M h r ‘d
'1 menaaoo anexcaneorai
~hldwa,‘ hud‘violent curses the plug of Bob. p
One terrific biow,caug t him on the right
eye, another on the left. a third upon his bleed—
nmpose. at which he fell. and did not,risc; he
Wmiisputahly “ knocked out.”

‘Kilto. did not show the result of a blow or a

 

 
  
  
 
    
  

, " Whenéthe bums ngin to drap,
And goodh’hoya begin to scrap—",= .

 

 

i

 

,gnug, turning id Peleg Prancer, with a "wink, piquant taco, wane peth mouth, nth-active ’ '

“ Ef ye don't b’lieve it, jest drop down in the
Bowery some night and I’ll show ye how we
train fleas down t ere. Have the kindness to
step one side, Mr. Praneer. I will bid you good-
eve.” ,

“ What! ain’t ye goin’ ter undertake the job?”
Prancer demanded.

“ Not muchly, old gristnnll! Yo deceived me
by havin’ an eavesdropper, and I don’t have no
split ticket when I vote, Mebbe I_’ll look up the
case, but if I do I’ll look deeper. into it. You »
hire Driscoll fer two hundred. I’ll work for
nothin’.”

,“ What d’ye mean?”

“ I mean thet I don’t take ilve cents’ worth 0’
Watered stock in you, sir, and I ain’t hitchin’ on.
In my rivate opinion, publicly expressed,
you’re a rat—class fraud l’. v

And brushing past the Vermonter Mike lett
the room.

 

CHAPTER III.

NORA AND HER MISSION.

MIKE went direct from the Hotel Devonshire
to his lodgings, in a Hester street tenement, near
the Bowery.

He had one apartment here, -on the third
flight, which, though by no means first-class,
was comfortably furnished with a bed, chairs,
table, and warmed by a grate fire.

The walls were covered with lithographs of
various celebrities; and here and there were odd
little articles, peculiar to the tastes of the city
Bohemian.

Producing his pipe the young detective turned
onthe gas, and seated himself at the table. A
thoughtful expression was upon his face as he
sent up columns of smoke.

“ l’ve lost the jobl” he soliloquized, " but I
ain’t certain that I’m sorry about it. I didn’t
quite catch as lively an interest in it as I might,
at any one but that Peleg Pra ncer had been
connected with it. It is evident that he wants
the girl had. He wants Ned Shields not quite
so bad, and he wants that box of papers at good
deal more than either girl or man.’

His reverie was interrupted bya rap on the
door, to which he called out:

"‘ Who’s there?" "

In the particular neighborhood where his

lodgings were located, societywas not exactly

established on a Christian footing, and it was
but prudence to be careful. The denizean
the vicinity were not noted for good character
or respect for the law.

“ It’s only me, Mike. Can I come in i” a girl—
ish voice cried. '

“ Certainly. .Come in, Nora. Your rap
sounded unfamiliar!" Mike responded, heartfl .

The door had opened, and a girl entered a
room—one, too, whose appearance was some-
whatacontrast with that of the well-dressed,
Bowery Blood.

She was about sixteen years of age, of gun»

tul figure, yet evidently she had always  t 

accustomed to hard wo k. A . 1 7
She was rather shabbily clad, showing that
poverty we: no stranger to her. ' r '

Yet. beneath her Well-worn hat was a pretty,

‘ .—

 
 

 

 

          

 
     

 

 

 

  
   
  
  
   
   
  
   
  
   
        
        
       
    
 
     
       
       
      
    
     
        
   
     
       

[showed t

“but futon, their evil gaze upon every pretty

, let him lnsnure you!
' but have nothing further to do with the fellow.
,Ir’ll wgger a new dicer he don’t mean you any

.. 1. posted over it. .
V.“ Yoti bet I’ll take care of myself, Mike. I’ve

8

m.P.WW«wv-rw "W>'~~.——tvvwf‘ww-~'t Am

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

  

 

blue eyes, and a fair forehead, fringed with
charming shingled “ bangs ” of brown color. _

A gleam of pleasure shot athwart Mike’s fee.-
tures at sicrht of her.

"' Woll, ore, how did peanuts and candy and
fruits sell to—duyl‘” he asked, pushing her for-
ward n chair.

“Not very well, Mikel” and a serious expres-
sion crossed her face. “There’s an Italian
woman set up shop on the o posite corner, and
she’s stolen away 9. 00d (8&1 of my trade.
She‘s got a bigger stoc than me, too. But I’ll
snap my fingers at her to-morrow, Mike. I’ve
shot up shop l” ~

“Shet up shop? \Vhy, what are you talking
about, Nora?"

Mike knew that she was a wait and an or-
phan, alone in the world, with no one to love or
care for her—except it was himself—and with
no means of support, except wlmt little she
could make out of a corner fruit and candy
stand, on the Bowery—barely enough it was to
get her the most frugal necessaries of life.

“ Yes, Mike, I’ve sold out, an’ shot up shop I”

“ But I dontunderstand you. What in the
world are you going to do without your busi-
noes?”

“ Why, would you believe it, I’ve got a splen-
did situation, Mike, as clerk up at Macy s on
Sixth avenue. Jest think of itl I get live dol-
lars :1 week, and can wear good clothes!”

Mike smiled. The idea. of wearing good clothes
and livin on five dollars a week was something
beyond his com rehension.

‘l’d like to now how you got a situation
there ” he said, incredulously.

“ oil, a nice—dressed entleman came along,
and the crowd jostled a undle he carried into
the gutter. I picked it up and wrapped it in
another paper, and be thanked me awful nice.
Pretty soon he came and bought some nuts, and
asked me if I wouldn’t like a better job. He
told me he could get me one, no doubt—so I said

es. He went own again, and came back
about dark, and mi he was interested in me,
and had obtained the a situation at Macy’s. He
said that I was to re rt to—morrow morning,
with better clothes. 0 I just sold out the stand
to Mom Mngniro, and I’m going to Macy’s.”

The exgrcssion on the young detective’s face

at he did not approve of the change.

“What was this fellow’s name?” he asked,
“and what for looking man is he?"

“0h! he‘s just Scrumptious—and he said his
name was Tracy ’l‘rnvls. Ain’t that a nice name?
Ohl he's a daisy, Mike—~nicevtormed, well-
dressed,’ and good—looking in face, with a black
mustache, black eyes,’nnd black hair. Ohl I tell
'youhe'e a real nuhobl"

. “Undoubtedly!” Mike assented, dry!y;—-“ one
of the sort of nebobs who have naug t to do

‘ rlish face the see. You take my advice,

ore—look out or Mr. Trncv Travis, and don’t
Go to ecy'e, if you like,

Nora’s face flushed, and a grateful expression

 

not been on the streets all/these years without, ‘
lenrnin' how to do that. I am much obliged for
your kind advice, Mike. You were ever good
to me.”

“I always took an interest in your welfare,
Nora. because you had no one else to do so.” ,

“And, Mike, ,I’ve got something else to tell «ya
you. I’ve had another adventure. ’ ~,

“So? Well, let’s hear it!" , u

“ Oh! it’s funny. A man stopped at my 
stand .just as I was about leaving it, and as ‘
me if I knew of a smart, keen-witted youth of fm
honesty and integrity, who was well, posted ,5!
about the city?” 9' ,

“ Indeed?" - ? '

“Yes, and I axed him what he wanted of 
sech a boy, and he said that he was hunting for ‘
a. person, and wanted to hire a shrewd, wide- v'
awake young man in preference toemployiug 
a detective." ‘

Mike had become deeply interested.

“ Well, what did you tell him, Nora?" 

“Why, What d’ye su so I told him?——that 
I didn’t know of any? on bet-I didn’t. I just '
told him about you, and told him you’d fill the
bill, and he said he thought you would, and for .
you to meet him at the Astor House. in the . ,7
morning at nine.” 

“ What’s his name.”

“ Duvid Dore.” ,

“ Front door, or back door?” v .

“ I don’t know about that, but I should ’spect
buck-door, as he‘s from the backwoods—Way up
in Vermont l”

“ Hui you don’t tell me?”

“That’s what he said." , , i ' .

“Did he mention what kind of a person he ~‘
was in search of?” . "_-

“ No, net‘s I know of, ’copt it was a. girl.” "

Mike dashed the ashes out of his pipe so . '
vehemently that he broke the clay stem m to ’
a dozen pieces. .

“ Why, what’s the matter?" Nora asked ex‘
citeley. » '

“ othingl nothing!" he replied excitedly,
“only I’ve ct a case which is worthy of my’ ., "
steel. Ch! ’11 worklt upl" 

Mike was one of the gay birds of the Bowery
whom sleep seldom troubled. If ever he did > r
indulge in that luxury, it was generally in the ,
daytime; for every night saw him roaming. . r
about the city. in the sections where the m '
excitement prevailed. ' V ,

It was his custom to make n'midnight tour of,
the down-town police stations, and examine the -
registers, in which way he was able to kee
himself pretty well posted as to doings in crime. v -
nel circles. 1‘

He also frequently posted himself as to the ,.
arrivals at the various first and second-claw ".
hotels, and picked up such news everywhere it
might prove of interest. to him in his pro.
fessione calling. .

After Nora’s departure, although it was near
midnight, he sallied forth from his 1 ' gs and'
made his way u n the Bowery, “w ere the'
crowd was but lit e less dense than earlier, in the
evening. v, - :  ' 1 r‘

Great volumes ,of immunity pulsed along vln‘
either direction without seeming to have any
particular elm, except to move cum—on,

 
 

-AAAA

    

«

lat-4M: *

 

   

 

  

u

  

  
  

   

Mike, the Bowery Detective. 9

 

    

Mike was familiar with the location of nearly
- every den of sin and vice in that section of the
city, but it was not because he was a frequenter
of ! these dens except in pursuance of the interests
of his profession, or, in other words, tofind some

, one whom justice “ wanted.” ._

Although of a rather Wild and reckless dis-

position, he was not the young man to be led
away by any one of the various phases of
vice with which he came in. contact, from which
fact he commanded a certain degree of respect
from the rough class With whom he occasionally
min led. ~

' 0 all the resorts that he was familiar with

»_ a he knew of bdt one where he could get what he
would probably need. .

This was an up-stairs poker-«room, run by a
native Vermonter, named Jim Luce. '

Luce was a wideawake man of the world. a
thorough-bred sharp, and yet a perfect gentle-
man, with man'}' good qualities not to be found
in the average ambler.

’ He liked boo s and purchased them. He ran
aquiet poker gains, and sometimes dealt in a
brace at fare; but every one voted him as square
as a cube.

_Through saving him from falling into the
river, at'a Jersey City ferry~slip, Mike had
come to know him, and the two had since been
on very friendly terms. ,

Remembering that Luce had a Vermont Di-
rectory, Mike made his way to the resort, which

‘. Iwas located over a clothing store, on the east
' , side of the Bowery, below Prince street.

Understanding the signal, he gave several po-
culiar rnps upon the door, and was admitted.

The room was not very large, but contained
:1 liar and a number of tables and chairs, and
the Windows were closely curtained, lamps dif-
iusing all the light permitted.

The tables were surrounded by players, most
of whom were well-dressed men, who looked as
tlliongh they might possess some means to gam-

e on. '

, ,Mikegave them but an idle glance, for they
,5: here but of a thousand and'one similar
‘ . ‘fiatgeringa‘ 6 had seen, in diflerent places of the

in .

Jim Luce was loun lag behind the bar, enjoy-
ing a cigar, and no ded as Mike approached

im.

“ Howdy, Mikel What’s the word?” the gam-
bler saluted—a large, powerfully wrought fel-
low, ho was, with sandy beard and keen gray
eyes.

“0h! things still move,” Mike replied good-
naturedly. My businom isalittle du how-
ever, an I thought I‘d come up and ‘ pull your
place and make aspen, you see.” ,

-‘ , Lu clocked serious.

, ~‘ 9" a know I’ve had a notion you would be

doing somethin like that, one of these times!”

he said, earnest y.

Miko laughed. v

“ If I was in thatlino of business there’s plent

- I’d sin lo out before I’d tackle you," he mi _

“ By t 0 way, I’ve another mission to-night,

Luce.” ‘ ~

“ What is it?”

_ “You have a State Business Directory of
, ~jerinontl" -i'_“ \

 

 

 

  
   
   
  
  
   
   
  

 

. “No. I have, hou‘ever, one of each county,
in se rate volumes.” '

“ hat, perha , will do as well. I want to
find a town, Village, or hamlet, known as Por-
cu ine Corners.” -

. 1:100 looked at the Bowery Detective rather quiz
sicu y. -

“ Porcupine Corners?” he echoed. “ Why,
what in the world is the matter with you?
There isn’t such a place in all Vermont, I’ll take
an oath."

“ Are you sure?"

“ I am. Here is a set of volumes, givin every
postal address, town and hamlet, in tho 0 d ‘ flno
wool’ State, and if you will find Porcupine
Corners there, I’ll treat.”

Mike examined the books. Each volume
represented a county of the State, with the
po ulation of each village, town or recinct.

9 ran over’ these directions wit a critical
glance, while Luce watched him, ,withastrange—
y inquisitive expression. ' ' . -

List after list of names the Bowery Detective
scanned, but no expression of his hawkish fea—
tures told that he had found the place he sought
f

or.

He finally closed the books, and stacked them
up on the bar. ‘

“ No P cupine Corners there, I am sure 1” he
said. “ at settles one point in my mind.
That son-of-a-gun of a. Yankee is a. fraud. Are
you sure, Luce, that there isn’t some little coun-
try gathering of houses by that name?”

“ If there is, boy, it has recently sprung into
existence. I have traveled over nearly every
foot of ground in Vermont, before I came here,
two years ago, but I’ll take an oath I never
heard of Porcupine Corners before.”

“Did ye ever know of such a man as Peleg
Prancer?” he demanded.

“ No. That’s a make-u name, sure. What
are you trying to follow, ike—a false trail, or
are on overloaded?”

Ҥothing of the latter!" the Bowery boy re~

lied, positively. “ I had a pretty good jag on
gourd, the early part of the evening, but I
struck a scent, and I’m smelling it up, with
clear nostrils."

“ What’s the racket?”

“I’d tell you, Jim,’as quick as anyone, but
this IS a case I’ve got to work up, on' its merits,
and be rewarded, accordingly. It isn’ta snap
by any means, and for a time I’ve got to gel
blind, and sift every speck carefully.’

“All right, Mike, I approve of your spunk.
There’s nothin like chasing the game cloae,
whether you Will or lose.”

“ Right you be. But, Jim—”

“ Hold up a hit. D’ye See that follow lyonder, '
at the back of the table? 'He’s had devil sh poor
luck, and the ‘ timers’ are working him for all’
there’s in him!”

” Never mind him!” Mike said, calmly, with-
out takiug his eyes oil from the Yankee gam—
blor’s face. “ I am not interesle in the fortunes

and misfortunes of cards just at the present mo- ,
meat. I have come to the conclusion that you
can give me a. little information on a matterrof
importance.” . ’

Luce eyed him sharply.

“ What d’ye meaul’ he demanded. 7"

I

  

 

  

’10

 

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

 

“Nothing much. I merely want to ask you——
do you or did you ever, know a man by the
name oi David Dore?” -

The rapid, uninterpretable expression thatshot
nth wart the poker-man’s countenance proved
that the name was familiar to him.

And, with his lynx-like eyes, Mike took note of
the fact.

 

 

CHAPTER IV. "

ON THE SCENT.

, ‘r ’ “ YOU knew David Dore—«you do know him!

' he exclaimed in an undertone. “Let me know
where he lives.” .

“What d’ye want to know?” Luce growled,
all of the habitual pleasant; composure gone out
of his face, leaving a hard, cold expression there.
“ What d‘ye want to know about David Dore?”

“Simply his addrefl, Jim. I see that in con-

v nection With the name you have some secret
you would not willingly disclose. Give me the
man’s address, and will ask you no more, at
present!"

A grim, threatening glitter entered the eyesof
the gambler. .

“ Are ye working against me?” he demanded,
fiercely, bending over the bar.

“No, Luce, I am not. Only for an intuition,
caused, perhaps, by knewing that you were a
Vermouter, I should not have suspected that
you were ever acquainted with the name of
Dore!”

- The gambler did not appear entirely satisfied.
He knew that Mike was literally as n as
steel, and he eyed him, (loubtfully, for several

'. seconds.

“ Give me an insight into why you want to
know anything about David Dore?” he said,
shrewdly.

“ Nary‘an inf." Mike decided. “The case is
mine, not yours, and if I can make anything out
ol‘. it, why shouldn’t I? So far as I know, now,
you will not be interested in it, whatever your
past may have been 1” ‘

“ But why do you seek information of David

 

re
“1319.1: I cannot tell you, until I work up the
case. r
“You’re a shrewd one. I You must have
' some urgent reason for wanting to know about
r - him. Last ‘I knew of him, he lived up near
5 ‘ _ Grafton, in Vermont.”
. “Are you well ac’qufinted with the people of
that immediate section ?" r
“I was, a few years ago.”
“ You’re sure, then. that .you never heard of
such a man, there, as Peleg rancer?’ I
“ Positive of it.”
“I am much obliged to on for your infor—
mation. How large a (am ly did Dore have?”
" One childv—a daughter.” ‘
“Correct. ‘Did, you ever know that he had

noon?” 1 _
. ‘ r r  “I’Ve an idea he did, once, but believe he
7 ’ ' died some 1years ago”. ‘
y - “wen, guess that is all I needito know

‘ ’_ just at once. Give me o’clgar and I’ll take a
w . iskip. Join me?” a

i 3. And he threw down some change, and selected__

one of thecigarshandud him,

v A. .

 

  

I

had luck, and did not appear to care whethc

 

 

 
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
    
   
 
    
  
   
    
  
 
   
  
 
   
   
 
    
   
  
  
    
   
  
   

“ Now, then, what about the fellow, you’
spoke about getting fiecced 1”

“Ah! yes—the one at the back of'the table
yonder. He’s as reckless as blazes, 'or he’
plainly see he’s getting; swamped. Some teller
(1019’: seem to care, whether they lose money, 0
"0 r. '

Mike took a. careless glance at the person in
dicated by the gambler—then, he gave a per‘
ceptible start.

What strange fatality was this? ‘ .

The reckless young man was a decided coun
terpart, in face and general appearance, to tn
photograph the young detective bad receive:
from Peleg Pruncerl ’

There could be no mistake, in this respec
the features, the eyes, and their expression
were the same as in the photograph. " i

The young man had plainly been upon a.
protracted spree, for both his face and eye
were red from the effects 0 drink, and his
whole appearance spoke of a reckless regard for
himself, such as is peculiar to the average hard
drinker. ' I .

If this was Nod Shields, he was certainlyxin‘
he lost or won. . ’15" '

Mike eyed him, attentively, and 'iinally saw?
him draw a purse from his pocket, and extract a 2
single new crisp note. 3,

“ It’s all I have left,” he said, “and it 11059,}
it, I’m broke. I’ll go it, however, that my 4,}
hand goes out!” ..
. The gamblers about the table exchanged
liggtning glances; then, ’one of their number
sui : - '

“I’ll just have
friend; put up!” .

The money was staked, and the gambler laid
down his hand in triumph. . -
He held everything, nearly, worth holding in
the game. ‘

Shields threw down his cards with a curse, "
and arose from the table. H 1":

“ Cleaned out!” he cried, grimly. “Servgd
me right for being, tool enough to play with
pack of sharpersl’ , . ,

“ See here!” the winner of the last stak
cried, springing to his feet; “we don’t want n
insinuations, my friend. Any one as dares in-4
timate we don’t do the square thing, ‘generallyr
goes off with a cracked skull.” ’ ‘

“Indeed?” Shields retorted, evidently in no-
wise alarmed at the other’s frightening aspect.
“I presume likely the skulls of your previous
cracking were somewhat softer than you’d find
mine. As for your square playing allow me to ’
inform you that I am perfectly well aware that
the whole gang of you played as much as 'possi—
ble into each othe'r’s hands." : ‘ ,7

“You are a liar l” the gambler declared,-
fiercely. v , ,~

“You’re anotherl" Shields retorted, coolly, H
his penetrating; eyes flashing brilliantly.

to take you on that, my: ‘

   

 

The‘gambler, whose name was Burke Bren- ' _‘
nan, uttered a fearful oath, and bounded 1
forward. His onslaught appeared savageinr
enough to carry a. larger man than youu‘ "
Shieldskfrom his feet. But the young man di '
not'stir out of his-tracks. ., . ‘
He waited until the proper opportunity for»

 

 

 

      

   

Mike, the Bowery Detectiva.

  
  

11-

 

rived, then his fist shot out with sudden ve-
locity and caught the gambler between the eyes,
laying him back senseless upon the floor.

With revengeful cries, the other card sharps
rushed toward the yenng stranger, but they

nosed when Jim Luce stepped from behind the
liar and confronted them with a. pair of six-
shooters, one in either hand.

“ Back!" he ordered, sternly. “None of this
sort of thing in my place. If you want to fight,
go charter a. mg and go down the river.”

“ We’ll punch the head oif’m the dirty bin]—
guard 1” one’ of the sharps declared. savagely.

“ No, you won‘t—not here i” Luce assured,
positwely. “ You’ve got his money, and that’s
‘f enough. Young man, you git out now, and I’ll

see that these fellows don’t harm you.”

“I’m not afraid of the whole gang!” Shields
declared pluckily.

“ Maybe not. You go, however; I don’t want
any further fuss.”

“Very well; to accommodate an, I will go.
, But recollect, it's not because wouldn’t like
today ’em all out, like I did that one sucker l”

And shaking his fist at them, he left the room.
I They would have followed, but Luce’s warm
lng shake of the head admonished them that it
would not be a healthy undertaking.

Mike alsqquitted the poker-room, and descend -
ed to the street. He meant, it possible, to keep
track of the youngxyertnonter, it it were indeed

he. -. V  , _ » ~—
,, ,7' [Notthat it was his présent inten ion to arrest
" ' him-,lfor he had little faith in what he hail
learned from Pele; Prancer. Young Shields
nnght be a culprit, but Mike was not quite sut—
isfled that it was any of Prancer’s business
whether he was or not.
. Shields was already a considerable distance
I. ,away when Mike reached the street, and was
hurrying along rapidly down the Bowery.

Striking into a. brisk gait, Mike took the
opposite side of the street and followed. He
hoped, by keeping Shields in sight, to learn
_ _1_Wh9f,9"mvlfldg.5dl and thus, perhaps, the where-
abouts of the missing Gracie Prancer would be

cleared up. ,

Unaware that he was followed. the object of
the young detective’s search he 1: on steadily,
without once looking back;and ltlike pursued as
perseveringly, without once losing sight of his
man.

Through the Bowory continued the chase, into
, Park Row;thence to Broadway, to Cortlandt

‘ guest, and through the latter street to the ferry-
01186. .

‘ ‘ ” “ He’s going to Jersey City,” Mike concluded.

“ and like enough is going to take the Pennsyl-

V‘Nfl Mfoad, to some other point. I’ll find

 
   
  
  
 
   
  
   
  
 
 
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
  
 

 .39th.” .

' .ields entered the terr'yahouse.

Mike remained in,the rear. He saw Shields
purchase only a ferryeticket. He did not ap-
proach the railway ticket window, but passed
on Into the inner ferry—room. ,

V Mike then entered, purchased a ticket, and

‘~, V waited in the first apartment until the clung of
‘ the bell announced the arrival of the boat.

He then entered the waiting-room and min-

, sled with the crowd, taking good care, to keep
out of the sight of the young Vermonter, ,

   

 

   

When the gate opened, there was a general
rush on board the boat, and the detective suc-
ceeded in getting aboard without being spied
by Shields. . _

As usual, when the boat steamed out from
her slip, What passengers were not in the cabins
were on the front end of the boat—with one ex-
ception. ' .

Ned Shields remained at the rear end, looking 1
oil? into the water as it it had a peculiar attrac-
tion to him.

The night was so densely foggy thetonly a few
feet from the boat could the human eye reach,
and a constant succession of whistles were heard
from the various crafts plying upon the river-—
precautionary signals, whereby collisions could v
better be avoided. '

Mike stood in the shadows of the carriage.
way, watching his man like a hawk. His mind,
was already made up in regard to what was
Shields’s purpose—that his objective destination
was not Jersey City, but a watery grave.

When about in mid—stream, Mike saw him
raise his eyes henvenward, as it he were uttering
a prayer.

' With a swift and stealthy stride, the detective . .
reached him, and firmly-seized his arm just as ’12».
he wesabout to make the fatal leap. v A _

y“ I wouldn't, to friend, if I were you 1" Mike I 
said, quietly. “ he'flsh get plentyof better
bait than you, and tho Morgue supplies more
floaters than the hospital dissecting—rooms can,
use up, you can bet. So there’s no room for

'oul

 

 

Shields wheeled about, with an angry excla-
mation, and evidently recognized the Bowery
Detective

“ Let go my arm I” hercried, savagely._ ‘r‘ What .
d’ye mean by interfering in what don‘t concern
you, you in—” .
“ Tut, tutl no back talk 1” Mike interrupted. _
“ If you don’t want me to arrest you for at-
tempted suicide, you behave yourself like a Ply-
mouth churcb deacon. Here comes one of the
boat-hands." . ‘ = I

The admonition appeared to have a wonder—
fully soothing effect on the young man, so Mike ,
released his grasp. ~

The boat-hand, in passing, eyed them sharply,
but 8 eedily returned to the front.

“ hy did you interfere?" Shields demanded
again, when they were alone. - ,

“ Because I don’t like to see ’a; _ nice fellow
make a. confounded idiot out of himself without
cause.” 

“ You little know what cause I’ve had." V

“ Mehbe not; again, mebbo I know consider"
ably more about it than you think I do, Mr.
Shields!” '

No perceptible sign did the young,r man evin
that he had ever heard the name before. > ' _'

“I presume you’ve mistaken me for some
other person,” he said, with innrui’flfi‘ cum-
posure. “ My name is Gresham—George Gres- 5

 

is it? NOW, Nedd ', my chum, I don't:

look like a greenhorn, do Hon’t look likens .

if I'deat cream biscuit, and think they were“
plum‘guddin’, do I?” r . "
1",! °91§'3l9d°’m'9§¥%“.

  
   

   
 

 

12

 

Mike, the. Bowery Detective.

 

“You do! Ye can’t fool me. You take me
for a regular Weehuwken flat, you do.”

‘ “Nothing of the kind, sir, but I must admit
that your actions are someth eccentric.”

“Oh! you’re a good ’un. you are! But.
Noddy, it Won’t wash. You’re E'lwurd Shields,
of Grafton, Vermont, or thercabuuts, :in’ there’s
no sort of use of your trying to deny it!”

The would be suicide uttered a metallic sort
of laugh, but that strengthened Mike’s convic—
tions. ‘

"I am sorry I cannot agree with you, my
friend. You are either laboring under an at-
tack of dementia, or else are outrageously mis-
taken. George Gresham is my name, and don’t
you forget that,”

“Ohl well, if that’s the case, I’m on the wrong
track,” Mike said, npolng‘otir‘ally.

“Nothing more positive,” Gresham assured.
“ Ah! here we are at the ferry slip. And I am
still alive. I hardly know whether to thunk
you or not?” '

“Ohi suit yourself about that. If you con-
template attempting suicide again, I hope you
will first recollect that Gracie is hero in the
city, looking for you I"

“ The devil, you soy—J’

He suddenly checked
confused.

Mike laughed triumphantly.

“ Now, there! I thought I’d trip you, Noddy

dear, though you were ovur so careful, You
' know!"

“Confound you! What do you know about
her?” the young, man demanded, frowning
fiercely. “Out with it, or I’ll throw you over-
boardl”

“ Oh, don’t be so owcsomcl You don’t mnlm
even a two-cont shiver run down my spine, and
don’t forget that. If you want to know any-
thing about your darlinur Gracie, all you’ve got
to do is to go back to New York with me, no-
bosom yourself, and we’ll compare notes.
Conin let’s get oil! N0, stay here. We will go
back on this boat!” v

“ What! withoutpaying fare?"

. “Cert. Live in New York as long as I
- have, and you’ll catch onto the ropes, I’ll guur-
antes.”

“ Who are you .3”

“ Mike, the Bowery Detective, and as gallus a
b’hoy as you often pickup. In other words,
more to the point, Pro a detective.”

Au assurnnce which did not seem to favorably
impress theNermontor.

“ What d’you think you‘re going to make by
dogging me?" he growled, his former fierceness
returning. ‘

“That isn’t decided yet. I believe!” Miko re-

lied, composedly. “ It altogether depends on
ow you pan out, my frient. If you balance
the scales at good honest weight, all may be
right. If lthere‘s too much alloy and alacking
of good coin, things may be dilferent."

Gresham, or Shields which ever he was, ut-
tered another of his metallic laughs.

_ 1 “There’s one thing you’ll find l’m not lacking

" in!” he hissed, as with lightning like agility the
‘ "wanted" mun sprung upon the Bowery boy.
, and lifting him hotlin in thenir, as though he
. had been an infant, flung; .hiui ovurbuard, in

himself, and looked

‘» r in

 

 

the path of ‘the boat, which was beginning
to move out from her pier, into the stream.

There was no cry; simply a splash; then
Gresham darted back into the carriage-way, in
the nick of. time to escape being Seen by several
passengers, who came out from the cabin, to
the lore part of the boat.

Gresham joined them directly. He was pale,
but otherwise strangely composed. ,

The boat was already passing over the spot
where Mike had struck the water. '

A hundred chances to one, he had been
drawn in under the wheels, and crushed ‘to
death.

“ h! they’ll hound me, will they?” the Ver-

monter muttered under his breath. “ More than ,

one, then, shnll pay a hard penalty for his toll .
New York is a big place to find a man inl” y

 

CHAPTER V.
MIKE‘S NEW TRAIL.

MIKE, through the experiences of an eventful
career, had learned one valuable lesson, and
practically perfected himsel? in it—that was, in
a time of emergency, to think and act with
rapidity.

Therefore, when he found himself going down
into the river he knew his danger was imminent
——not particularly because he could not swim,
for there were few bettér men-fish than be in
the city; but he was aware that unless he got
out of the slip in an incredibly short space of
time, he would be run down by the New Bruns‘
Wick, which was the name of the huge craft
from which he had been hurled.

The distance to where he could round the piles
nnd g‘ct out of the path of the boat was not
great to the eye; yet to swim it would require
some lively work, as the great wheels of the
bout were already beginning to churn the water
into a foaming vortex. ‘

“ Sink or swim i“ came to Mike’s mind, and he
struck out mentally. ' ‘ ,

Never before did he put forth as much exer-
tion as now. V .

On—onl his head making but a. tiny speck in
the dnrk water, and the great monster sweeping
after him, as if eager to ride‘ him down. He
could see the passengers at the front of the
boat, but they saw him not. To be sure, a or
for help might have attracted attention, but it
is doubtful if it would have done any good, as
the bout could not have been instantly stopped.

Oh—on! He felt a terrible suction of water
tugging at him, asif to pull him backward, in
under the Wheels. The broad prow of the boat
was hovorinu close over him.

“ My God! I’m lost!" he thought.

No! he Would make a. superhuman efl'ortl

He didl He reached the soil of. the piling on
the right hand of the crib, and whirled partly
around it. He Could go rvno'furtber, for the
other bout loomediup, speeding into the next
sli ). ’ i r
i ll he could do was to throw-his arms about

the outer pile, and cling to it, and this he did I

with desperate strength. ’
It was his salvation. v '
When the New Brunswick was out o! the slip

ho SWulll across and still further on down;

 

lie-AW" . t. A J.» .71..  ‘

 

 

 

 

 

a
l,
f

 

\

stream, and soon struck the docking a few rods

below the ferry-house.

Knowing well he would attract attention if
he attempted to cross on the ferry again,.lie
was at a loss what to do, after clambering out

oftho water, but finally, Seeing no other plan m‘

pursueyhe bolted into the ferry-house, pur-
chased his ticket, and got aboard the next boat.

'Several curious ones asked him how he got
.wet, but in each case he answered them evasive-
ly, so that they got no satisfaction.

0n reaching the New York side ho made his
way, by unfrrqm-nleul streets, to his lodgings in
Hester street.

The next mornng ho was abroad bright and
early. and looked none the worse for his ducking
the previous night. He had been baffled, seem—
ln ly, at the beginning of the case: but the fact
0}) y uvrved him to a m‘eatt‘r resolution, to as-
SIduously stick to the trail until he had unraveled
the m ste .

An yet a could see no clear way ahead, and
he Was pretty well satisfied that he had tackled
a. harder ob than any other he had ever under-
taken. 8 knew. however, that many a detec-
tive had worked himself up to fame and fortune
by following the merest shadow of a claw; why
could he not do the same?

To be sure, he had no present sure of get~
ting paid, or even of being? thanke , (or his
eflorta but he knew he had sufl'icient money to

 carry in through for awhile, and by the time

it _was exhausted, something. “ M it-awber ”-like,
might turn up. If not, it would not he the first
time in his experience that he had been reduced
in his finances to a. single cent.

This cent—an anoient-dhted, old-fashioned

copper—he had worn, saspended to a small-
, linked gold chain, nhout his neck, ever since he

could remember. He would not part with it
for love or money—it was his talismaul That
there was any special significance in its posses—
sion heer unable to say, as he had never

\'hnuwxi «his parents-min earliest recollection

dating back to n riod when he was a tiny

street waif, supporting himself by selling news-‘

papers.

In the case now before him, he was full de-
termined toleave no stone unturned, until he
had sifted out all that was possible to learn of
old Pel ’3 game, of Miss Gracie's history, and

VNed Shie ds’s roguery.

Bright and early. therefore, he sought the
nearest telegraph ofllce, and sent the following

i ' r message:

 

. “To‘P

‘ comm Grafton. Vermon‘ :—' '
' Bowman live there named Davld Dore, or Peleg

’ ,Pranoer Is ma w v i '
e é"? anted named Eda an) shields or

sham? Mru MAVERICK,

‘ ‘ Detecllce. ”

He then lounged about the office, until he
thought an answer ought to reach him. and sure

enough, he got one.
 was worded as follows:

" ll. Mum“, Detection-«Do not know the -
ties named, nor of them. I ' P MW

“Just as I thong Mike muttered.
d ted re now I know it. Mr.

 

1

Mike, the ficwery Detective.

L‘Tbere’s stole away in the dead of mg

 

8
glimmkranaerare hotber ‘

mysterious gentlemen. They are both playing a
umo.

g Remembering that he was to see David Dora

at nine, he at once set out for the Astor House.

lf he found the gentleman, it was harr-ly possi-

ble that he might learn something applying to

the case, even if it were but little.

He found Dore’s name upon the register, and
op mite it, “ Grafton, Vermont.”

is room was 56.

Mike, hesitated a few minutes; then, sent up
his hard. .

He was not positive whether he should profit
by forming Mr. Dora’s acqaintance or not.

The hotel boy soon returned, and Mr.
accompanied him.

Ho was a good-looking, well-preserved man
of flve—and-forty, robust of figure, and on tho
whole, rather prepossessiug of. appearance. He
was nicely dressed and. seemed at least to be a
person who was well-to-do.

He eyed the Bowery Detective sharply, as he
approached. as if “sizing” him up.

“You wished to see me?“ he interrogated, in
a leasaut tone. .

‘Yes, sir—that is, if you are Mr. Davxd
Doro?"

“ That is my name, sir. What can I do for
you. mefir I ask?” .,

“ I on ed to see you in reference to your want
of a young man—” 4

“Ah, yes! yes! I see. The fruit girl recom-
mended you. Come into the reading-room.”

They were soon seated opposite each other.
with a. table between them, and Dore produced‘
some fragrant cigars.

“1-was expecting you,” he said, by way of
breaking a momentary silence, during which
he had regarded Mike intently. “I suppose’
you think you are competent to fill the hill?"

“ Judging from what Nora told me, I presume '
very likely I can suit you. I don’t often go to
slee over a joh.”

“2 hut’s what I like to hear. When Ivem lay
a. person I expect him to be wifi-awake. ve
you ever done detective-work 3"

“On a small scale. What is the nature of
your .case?” and with a professional air, Mike
took a note—hook and pencil from his pocket,
and made ready to jot down any notes, he
thought worth while.

“My case can be summed up in a few words
—-a girl missing.“ ., ,,

-“ Yes? The name, please—J ‘

“ Dora G. Doro.”

“ Your daughter?”

“Yes—that is. my adopted daughter.” ‘ ' '

‘9 For how long has she been your adopted
daughter?" ’ -

“ Since infancy. I took her from a foundliug
asylum, in Boston, sixteen years ago.

“ Her age consequently is-” '

“ A little over seventeen.”

“ How lon has she been missing!"

“ Two was s, to-day." ‘ u

“ What are the circumstances of her flight» 1 
as I‘infer that she fled from your home I” , ‘ 7

“She did. and very suddenly at that. She .:

1t and when we

discovered her fli ht no trace wh ‘
he twndot her.” g ‘ never 

Dore

n ‘>
y

.\y

 

    

14

 

Mike, the Bowery Detective.)

 

“ Did she lenvc nothing behind relating to the
cause of her flight? Was she content with her
home and surroundings?"

" Perfectly so. The only” clew she left behind
was this note.”

He handed Mike :1 half—sheet of note-paper,
upon which was written tho following, in a good
hand: ;

“DEAR PAPA:~-By the time this is found 1 shall be
far away. Whv l um going, I cannot explain to
yen, and you will never know. Do not seek to know

. or to find me, for it will be unless. DORA."

 
 
  
    
  
    
    
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
    
   
  
  
    
  
 
  
  
  
  
 
   
 
 
  
  
  
 
  
 
  
    
  
   
  
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
    
   
 
  
  

The chirog'mphy was alike to that in the

letter Mike had received from I’eleg Pmncerl

, There could be little doubt but what one person
' , had written both letters.

Mike was puzzled, and know his face betrayed
the, fact, but Mr. Doro evidently did not take
notice of it.

' “ Let me see. You live at Grafton, Vermont,
I believe?” Mike proceeded.
“ I do, sir.” .
“ And your adopted daughter fled from
there?”
“ She did.”
“ What business are you engaged in,
Dore?”
“ I am a farmer, but on rather a. retired scale,
however.” ‘
“ That is to say, you have a plenty of this
world‘s goods?" ‘
' “ Certainly.
case.” .

'“ Perhaps not. We detectives have a great
habit of asking questions, you know. Did your
daughter move in society, or have any particu-
lar gentlemen friends?” '

‘ “‘None. She was always at home.”

“ What were your relations to her—fatherly,
' or loverly?”

“ Well, of late years, ,L have grown to look

', torwurd to a day when I could make her my

wife.” , l ’ .

“ Did sheknow , is?"

“Yes. I thin ' she favored my suit——or
Would have done so had I made a. formal decla-
ration." ,

“H120 you know who were the parents of‘ the

1; i

“ I. do not. .She had been taken in by the In-
stitution as a nameless waif.”

‘ “ Have you any idea. where she went to?”
-' “ In ,my opinion ’she came here. She was
very ambitions to work, although I always kept
her well supplied with money, and I once h
her say that she would like to work in one of the
great stores in this city.”

The Bowery Detective took a note of this.

“ Have you a icture of her?” he asked.
7 ,“ Yes, here it 8. She is a very pretty girl.”
‘ Mike nodded. as he g'szed'at the photograph.
, In his pocket he carried a duplicate of it.
- “A. face that, once seen, could not easilybe
Jargottenl" he said. “ Are you aware, Mr. Dore,
olf‘liavin any enemies who could have any 01%
. jrct inn ucting her?”
. « “Nobilide I don’t know that I have a foe
Cliff-ho {ace of the earth." ‘
Hike was silent a. few moments, glancing over

mm and thinking.

Mr.

But this does not touch upon the

  

v.

 
 
  

 

. . a,
“ Well, Mr. Dore, I suppose you want to ,find
thisvgirl?" - -

“ I do, indeed. If I succeed in doing so. it
will be the realization of one of my; fondest
hopes." -

“ I suppose you must have some ulterior oh-
joct—something more than your actual interest
in the girl. That alone could hardly tempt you
to follow her up, especially when her flight proved
that she cared‘nothing for you?"I

“ You misconstrue my motives. 1 want to
save the poor child from a. life of drudgery, per-
haps of temptaion and sin. Besides she took
with, here some papers that are of great value to
me.

“ Ah! what were they?“

“ Merely papers of personal importance to 9‘6,

but in no way touching upon the mutter of the
girl. Why she should have taken them I cannot
understand.” ‘ r

“ Well, Mr. Dore, do you want me to take
hold of the case?"

" I do, yes. If
be well rewarded.

Mike uttered a peculiar laugh.

“ I dare say you won’t find any New York
detectives who will do your job and depend on
their success for their y At least I shall
wont a. liberal sum downgfore Ican undertake
it. ' ’

“ How much 2”

“Not less than a couple of hundred dollars,
which I need for incidental expenses.” . .

"Very well; you shall have it» When “will
you set to work at the case?”

“ That depends upon circumstances. I shall
first require toknow who you are, air, ahd where
you reside.” ' '

Dore started violently. .

“ What do you mean?" he demanded, angrily,
his face flushing.

you find Dora for me you shall

“ I mean that, didl knowwhare to flu} thank; Sn

gii‘l this minute, I should not turn her over to
you until 1 had some proof of who and‘ what
you are, as a guarantee of good faith.”

“ You are insulting, young man-1‘ Havel not
already told you about myself?” .

“You have told me u. falsehood!” Mike‘re-
turned promptly and fearlessly.

“ Oh, don’t look as if you could bite my head
03, for I ain’t one of the skeery kind! You will
perhaps be surprised to know that another arty
is wanting this same girl, under a di erent
name. Believing him a schemer. I refused to
have anything to do with him. When [heard
about you, it‘rathor struck me you might be
mother of the same breed; so sent a tele—
gram to Grafton to inquire about you and
Prancor.” - '

“Prancer?”

“ Yea, Praucer. That’s t’otber fellow.

is the re ly I received.” . . l .
ram and glanced

David ore took the tale
over it. His face was-flush

“ You are really too cute to live i” ’he’uttercd,
grimly, when he had perused it. “ It don’t mat-
ter. however. I’ll give you five thousand dollars
cash to (1 me that
or where live!" v' . . .  ,, -
Mike eyed the man curiously. It wigs evident

.4

 

   
 
 
  
  

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girl, no matterwho I am ~

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Mike, the Bowery Defective. a

16

 

 
    
   
  
    
  
 
  
  
   

- be missing girl was more to Dore than to Pran-

r‘ and that the former was in dead earnest.

He meant to have her if money could ascer-

'n'her whereabouts. ‘

1“ I shall have to consider it,” Mike returned:

‘51 will let you know my decision some time to-
norrow.” .

' 2Isle then arose, and bowed himself out of the
gus Vermonter’s presence.

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE “ FIND.”

Mm had long wished to get on favorable
terms, With the chief of the detective—police of
the city, but had hitherto been unable to sin
nythiug like a friendly fooling either with im
or Superintendent Walling, owing to the fact that
Detective Bob Driscoll was immensely popular
with the police captains of the different precmcts,
and ipllueuced them against the young Bowery
Emotive end they, in turn. gave Mike no favor-
able airing to the higher oilicers.

Despite this, however, Mike was well known
to all, and made It ,a point to so keep himself
before the officers of the several precincts that
their": should‘be no possibility of his being for-
go 11. -
‘ Imagine his surprise then, when, later that

day, he was accosted by So ‘ utendeyt’ Wal-
' ling, es lie was passing 1: rough City Hall

uni-e.  '_

“Good-afternoon, young man. A word with
you!" the dignified oflicial said.

Mike paused, with a bow, and awaited in re-
-) ' spoctful silence.

) “ I hear you have been giving Driscoll a
. *black Says!" the superintendent continued, rather

, ‘ y.

l“ Is that so? I haven’t seen him since he
pitched onto me and got laid out. He was fresh
enough to suppose I’d let him bully me, and got
flew—that’s L?! ' " ‘ ‘ ' ' . '
-' ‘i‘ijfineofiy for the trouble, and hope noth-
- ng‘ of the sort will occur again. _ Dn’scoll is one
I of our shrewrlest man. and we shall miss him, as
. he will not come out-of-doors again for several

days. The blow has on upset him.”

, "Can’t holpit. Maybe he will know better
. than to pick me up for a fool, again. By the

‘VWay, sir, I’ve done several little deserving jobs
- for the city—one or two of which, Driscoll has

.. received the credit of doing. Don’t on think I
, i. it? have a badge, backed by a lttle power

E
s
(D

 

 

. There! It was out, and Mike was glad of it,
no matter what answer might follow. He had
 hath in mind to ask for an authorized
4 p0 tlon, and he knewif any man could get it
*for‘him, Wulhng could, .

‘ . It was In reference to having you work up
[elittl'ematter that I accosted you. Where do
you live?" .

Mike gave him a card, with his address
scribbled on the back of it.

. Im usually to he found there, when I’m'
not roamin" about townl" , r V .
“Well, this is what I have to 'say: It has

been brought; tomy-notloe that, despite all at-

rcmntlynmde, and the absence-of n cer—

    

 

 theycily, there is still a’large J

 
 

. A“ _ any}:

traffic being done in the sale of lottery-tickets.
The mayor has, consequently, ordered that
strenuous measures be taken to break up this
nefarious business, and rid the city 0! it as
quickly as possible.

“ Yes, sir. How
I ask?”

’“ There is but one way to accom lish much—
that is, to once more huut up an arrest those
dealing 'u the fraud. Several detectives have
been detailed to look up the matter, but have
thus far failed to find a case.”

Mike laughed quietly. ,

“ It isn’t often a detective gives away all he
knows, when a millionaire corporation keeps
plenty1 oflgreenback ‘ soothing-syrup ’ afloat l” he

1 . ry .

“ I hardylyfilike yOur insinuation, young man.
So far as we are able to jud e, believe we
have a special force admirable or honesty and
integrity. Then, too, I find, by inquir , that
you are quite likely to be betterpos in re-
gard to lottery and policy—dealers than every
Bohemian one meets.” .

“ Perhaps I could name a few 1”. Mike re lied.

" Why have you not reported them at sad:
quarters, than i” i _

“ Because, being naught but a private detec-
tive, I did not feel called upon to wage a per-
sonal war on a. class of men, who, at best, are
unsavory characters. But with the commis-
sion of a detective, and the pay thereof. to-

ether with the backing of the city authorities,

could put your detectives on the track of e' ht
or nine ticket-dealers, almost within‘the s ow
of your City Hall.” '

The superintendent lcoked incredulous.

“It you can do that, lose no time about it,

oung man.”

‘:,I’ll tell you what I’ll do: you secure me a ,

commission as a regular, and I’ll tell you the
name of ten dealers and where they can be
found. I will not, however, partial be in
their arrest, as they've pals whod ma 6 New
Yorlg’too hot for me, and I can’t be spared just
now.
“Give me the names. Pro er men shall be
set to work the matter up, an if they are sno-
ccssful you will receive your badge and papers
lac—night."

Without furthey hesitauc Mike wrote out the
names and “ dens” of such ottery-a cuts as he
knew, on a leaf of his note—book. 9. gave it to
the superintendent, who received it with a bow,
and the two ported, *

The Blood realized that he was doing a _-
fectly roper thing. because he had lonife It
to be is duty to give up the several 3 arpem
who were swindling greenhorns out of mono in
more than one way than through means the
“ Louisiana. lottery.” ~ ' ~

Then, too, the advantage of being promoted
to a. " regular,” with the power and pay helon -
ing to the position, was an advantage not to

d ised. ,

,e‘sl‘l’zebalance of the day he agent in idling
about town in a questioning moo . How to gain
further clew‘s in working up the case of the misl-
iug lrl was a puzzlerto him. That not ' ,
coul be elicited b bothering with either De .‘ r /
Dore or Peleg raucer seemed certain—m 3

- :7 ' «1' '-

do you propose to do it, may

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

    

 

 

   
  
   
  
 
   
    
  

 
 
    

forth.

‘ git-WWW. Stephen!

16 D

 

up- .57.”, Ly  

P Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

 

where could he expect to find anything to help
him in any other source?

New York was a big city wherein to search for
one girl, and she. too, evidently trying tolosc
herself from being found.

He did not desire to make an attempt at find—
ing her in any of the stores until he was possessed
of his badge, which would secure him more
privileges than though he had none.

About five o’clock in the afternoon ho'visitod
his' lodgings, and there found a large official-
looking envelope, which contained his commis-
sion-blank and badgomtho former to be executed
and returned, whereupon he would be duly 1n—
stalled as a “ regular.’

As he had yet some time to spare, he placed
this bad 3 under the lapel of his vest and sallied
ong the places he visited- were the
logger dry oods and trimming establishments,
a simply hrough posseming his badge he was
able to gain access to the books (Eon mining the
names of all the employees. But he failed to

r find either the name of Dora. Dore or Gracie

Prancer.

As closing time prevented a further search,
he concluded that nothing more could be done
until the morrow, when he must visit the es-
tablishments further down town.

Fatigued with what he had done in the way
of :travel durin the day, he started back for
his lodgings ear y, resolved to get u good night's
rest.

Then, too be rather expected he would re-'

celve a call. uom Nora. She often dropped in,
for a little chat, as they had known each other
since childhood.

He was passing along the Bowery, which was
densely throngod, when his foot ickcd some-
thing and be perceived it was a pocket-book—
one of the long, side-pocket sort. \

Happening to have his handkerchief in his
hand. he dextrously dropped it so. it covered
the wallet, and stoopinq, picked both up,
jammed them into his pocket, and hurried on,
lwithout any one paying particlar attention to

im. .

Within the security of his own apartment, he
was soon seated, with the prize laid out before
him.

“ No poor man lost this!” he muttered as he
took off the rubber strap which held itshut.
“ There’s money in here, and loads of it, too, I
reckon.”

The wallet contained two hundred and fifty
dollars in bank-notes, 0t tenodollar denomina-
tions each, and a few dollars in change. There
were also a number of slips of paper, unenvel-
oped notes, and postal cards—also a sealed,
mm ed letter, direch to “ Stephen Dore, No.
3- 1 tb street, city.” ,

"By Jehosaphat Johnson! Here’s another
claw at last, and if I don’t work something out
ofvthis. I’m a royal rhinoceros from Rantoul!

ephen Dore. hey? That sounds respectable,

. St
r algn‘gsido of David, though Ib’lieve David was
a

lo hero—1017 into a lion’s cage, or something
Let me see: Stephen is
Jandvmarriodé-aud is goin’ to die—or lost a

' '0 cars ath—Or—han it, I’m as deep
* huh; nymd as ever. I ,must exainine."

 

Ho went over the other papers and postal-

cards carefully and considerately.

There were three postals.

One was post-marked Chico o, and addressed
to “ Leonard Lentonville, ’ost~()flice, New
York.” It read as follows:

“Lam—Things loom mg no better. The change
to there is imperative. T e M——— has ofleied big.

“ um.

The second card was to the same address, and
bore the following:

“ rem—It is useless to delay longer. Expect and
100k. » lummu. ”

The third was to “ Mr. Tracy Travis, No. ~—
120th street, City.” Post-mark, New York.

It simply said:

“ Meet me at Grand Central Hotel atpéice. ”

Mike was as acute of understanding a; the
ordinary young man, but he had to scream his
head reflectively over the contents of the cai'ds,
ani‘lhturn to the papers for relief.

e
tion, ing recei is rom different parties to
Tracy Travis. T e exception was a document
couched in the following language:

“Tuna—I think all lscafe. I have sounded the

depths, and got a general idea of what to expect.

As to her, there is nothing more to report“,
“DAVE.”
This was all there was of importance, except
that upon‘the lapel of tho wallet-book, were the
initials, “ T. '1‘.” ..
“ That means Tracy Travis,” Mike com-
mented, deliberately. “ Tracy, the lad, drop

this hoodle, and is no doubt even now mourn ng"

over its loss. Let me see. Tracy T ravisl ‘ That
is the name of the snoozer who got Nora into
Macy’s.”

“You bet it was, Mike,”'a voico‘ cried, and
the door opened and Nora hersell'entered the
room. “ Ha, ha! I caught you talking to your-
self again. Oh, my! where did you get that
pocket-book?" K

“Amon the ancient Egy tian ruins,” Mike
replied, qu ckly putting it in llS ocket. “Ax
{no 1,1,0 question, ins darlint, and ’ll tall yer. no
nos. . ,

“ Avast! you
some ship!” cri
attitude. ,

" Oh! you can bet on that!” Mike responded.
“ How’s caliker sellin’ tar-day, Nora?” ,

“ Bully, Mike! The foreman ad I did just
elfegnnt. I got away with thirty dollars’ Worth
0
culgate I’m solid at Macy‘s, too.

“ Don't be too sure, Nora.” .

" But I aml I sha’n’t stay there long, mobbe.
Mr. Travis hinted that if I wanted to we might

irate, you’ve ’been wrecking
Nora, tragically striking an

get married pretty soon, and I could live in a ‘

rows-stone house. and ham servants. Oh!
you bet he’s a dais l” _

“And you’re a col!" Mike declared “bluntly.
"Why, you crazy girl. can’t on painly see
that e
aim in knowing you is to entrap you?”

" Oh, no, no! He is top nice a gentleman (39...,
have any wrong intentions, Mike. Ha 

tectly lovely,”

, .

were of no im rtance, with one excep- ’

per-camhric all in one lum’p. You can cal- ‘

 

is an unsorupulousv lain, whose solo‘ "

   

 

 

 

 

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

i"?

 

 

' “ You‘ll find your mistake when too late,”
2 z‘ . Mike gritted. “If 1 see the snoozer, you can
’ - bet I’ll Sp’ile some of his loveliness."
v' . “ If you touch him, Mike, I’ll never speak to
. 0".”
I ‘ “ Then you won’t, that‘s all. By the we. , do
5 ‘ ou know a. irl at Macy’s named either ora
" ore or Greene Prnncer?”
“ No' I ain’t. much acquainted. Only know
\ ' one gir «a new—comer, like myself. The hands
' thut have been there awhile, look down on late
arrivals as if they were of no account.”
' “ What’s this one girl’s name?”
“ Carrie Chase.”
“ Belong in the city?”
“No; but she didn’t tell me where she came
from.”
“ Ah! Does this picture look like her?” and
he showed her the picture he had received from
- Peleg Praucer.
Nora uttered a surprised exclamation.
" ., “Why, that’s Carrie, as sure as the world.
-~ Where did you get her picture?”
, i “ Never min where. I am working up a
case in which she is concerned. She is u wanted
, person. You keep mum and help me. To—mor-
'. row ni ht I want you to bring her here."
“Me be she won‘t come."
“But she will, though, it you tell her that
you Want’ hernto accompany you to see a par-

fic , en

“Well; I’ll try. When shall we come?”

“To-morrow evening at eight. Be sure to
fetch her here, and I will make it worth your
while.”

Conversation drifted onto other topics, and a
mun‘who had been crouching in u listening at-
titude, in the ball, by the door, stole cautiously

way. ,
It was Bob Driscoll, detective!

V CHAPTER VII.

V v . L JIEVELA'I'IONh —'

' x Ami}, N ra's departure the Bowery Detective

. . retired for the night, in order to he rested pro-
, r _ parutory to a hard do '5 work on the morrow.

Although he had no i en just how“ his case was

going to end, he know that he had struck a trail

in the finding of the ppcketbdok, which was

likely to be worth followmg.

. There were two persons whom he must inter-
~ ‘ view, besida Dora. Dore, or, as she was now

I known, Carrie Chase. They were Stephen Doro

‘ 7 and True Travis.

‘Justm ‘utpmconnection they might have with

the case was not clear, but that some connection

thy did have, the detective was perfectly well

' r as med. , ‘

{After a has, breakfast the next morning,
Mike tooka. r 0 up to the Hotel Devonshlre

- , and made an inquiry afiel- Mr. Poles pram,
, Mr. Francer had taken his de rture, stated
‘ the clerk; 11: was not known whetfigr he had left
- , the city or not.
' “1 mm not!” was Mike’s decision, as he

 

 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
   
  
 
  

 

  
     

‘p  tout of the hotel. “ In I hurdl know
rwh'at to make of Mr. Prancer. in ever; mom
or is than Davy Dore.” . .
;. ‘ B as so far up—town, he concluded to kill two

 
  

with 0119 Stone. and call upon Stephen

_/
..'f'

 

On arrival at the correct address, he found
there an elegant and imposing mansion, plainly
the home of some man 0 considerable wealth.

A servant answered the hell—a. real tony-
looking African, who assured the caller, in the
blundest of tones, that Mr. Stephen Dore did re—
side there, but was not in.

Mike knew it was yet curly in the morning
for a retired nahoh to be out, but us the dorky
was positive about the matter, what could he do
about it?

“ Is Tracy Truvis in?" Mike asked.

“ What you want of him?" the servant de—
manded, bluntly. ,

“ Look-e0 here! I want to see Travis, you
black skunk, and it’s none of your busineSS what
for, neither! Are you going to admit me, or
shall I pitch you headpverihccls out of doors?”

“ Morse Travis am not in 1” Pompey protested.
“ Huf to call, sah, some odder thne.”‘

“Julius, what’s the trouble?” called a. voice
from inside. “If it’s any one to see me, show.
the person in, of course."

Julius scowled, but opened the vestibule door
wide enough to allow Mike to enter.

“ Step right into do parlor, sub!” he said,
throwlnfilopon aside door. “ Find Morse Travis
there,‘sa .’ v ’

Mike obeyed. ’

The parlor was a magnificently furnished
room, but was so darkened as to shroud all its
objects in half gloom.

A young man was sitting in a luxurious easy-
chuir with a newspaper spread out before him,
while 11 young woman wus reclining upon
a sofa, and was covered up with a. rich oriental
shawl, in such a way that none of her features
were visible to Mike’s keen gaze.

Mr. Travis was a dapper individual of de‘
cidedly “ dudrsh ” appearance, and, although he
was well dressed and rather good-looking, there
was an air oi! snobbishness about him that one
would hardly fancy in a respectable business

man.
He nodded, without arising, at Mike’s entrance.
“ Be seated, SII‘. Excuse our servant—I sel-

dom am in forenoons, hence his mistake. “What
can I do for you, Mr. Maverick 3’” ‘ 1
Mike was electrified.
How come he to be known to this rson,
whom he could not remember of ever aviug

soon before?

“ I called on a little matter of
that is if you are Mr. Travis.
ever, that you have an advantage over me, in
previously knowing my name.”

“ Ohl yes. You were once pointed out to me
as beluga promising young detective. I, too,‘
havonheard a. young friend of mine mention

on.

“ You refer to Nora?”

u I do 9?

“ It is.partly on her account, Mr. Travis, that >
She has been telliing me of ’ -
you. and having for a. longtime kept a friendly I

I want to see you.

eye on her, I want to Wow what you are up to?"
Keen and to the point were the tones of the

Bowery Detective, showing that ho was thorr

ouuhly in earnest.

cute his eyes ..

  

 

usiness, sir—
t seems, how- ‘

Tm 'vais’s {ace flushed, and a hard glitter l I

   
 

 

'
.l
.
'

 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
   
  
   
   
  
   
   
  
 
 
 
  

 

  

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

 

  
   
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
   
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
   
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
   
    
   
    
       
   
     
     

“i don’t know what right you have to in-
trude here, air, for the purpose of demanding to
know concerning what is none 01’ your business!”
he cried hotly.

“I have the business, sir, of looking well to
it that no harm comes to that orphan girl,"
cried Mike, sternly, “ through the dishonorable
intentions of one who,'but for an evil purpose,

_ Would neVer stoop to notice her.”

“ You speak altogether tog fast, young man.
You had first better prove that my intentions
are not perfectly good and honorable, before you
exercise your mouth quite so freely l”

“ Do you mean to say it is your intention to
marry her, then i”

“ If i choose to do so!”

“ If you choose to do so, oh?”

“That’s what I said, I believe. If I don’t
chooee,I shall not. I don’t know it to be a
mutter of com )ulsion either way.”

“You will nd out difierently, perhaps, Mr.
Travis. Let me give you fair warning, now.
And you will do well to heed itl If ever it
comes to my hearing that you have not acted
honorably toward that irl, I’ll have your life,
if I hang for it the next instantl"

- “ Very dramaticnll delivered l” Travis

sneored. “You shoul study up in tragedy.

, sugpgse I may now consider our interview at an

’ env .

, “ Not yet, dear Travis; 1 rather revel in your
society. I thought I’d call and ask it she has ar-
'»rive:l etl”.

” hom do you meanq—what do you mean,

. I sir? You speak in riddles.”

‘ . “Ohl I guess not. I mean your foreign
friend, called ‘ Lulu,’ ‘ Ragged,’ ‘Camille’ and
I so forth!”

Travis uttered an oath. -

. A “By Heaven! you have found my pocket-

book, haven’t you ’ he gasped.

“Idon’t know. Is your name Leonard Len-
tonville?"

“ No, it is not. "There were articles to such an
address in my pocketbook. however."

“What were they doin there? That is em-
phaticnlly what I want to now.”

“ It is emphatically none of yourbusineis.”

“ Then if that’s the case, you'll get no pocket-
book. Y’on see, my dear Travis, the fact of the
matter is, you are liable to at yourself into

' a’ peculiarly unenviable box if you don’t go

smooth 1” ,

.“ Do you think so? I am surprised to hear it.
Could you enlighten me as to your meaning

' once more?" ,

“ If it will oblige you, I can possibly give you
on efioopeneri” .

“ 0 so. My curiosity is great 1”

Mike could

Travis was provokineg cool.
have choked im with. a good will.
,“ Well, I w shed to know how the thing was
workln ,” Mike returned, as if be fully under-
, stood t e subject he Was talking on. “ so I paid
‘ avisit toPranoer after his arrival here, and
Zone to David; They were both anxious to get
the girl, but were not u to the requirements
.with collat’. Therefore, couldn’tdo anything
kiwi!” l ‘ a h nd
 _rava 0111M outa ry song ,a eyed his
timer 9 only~vmiously,' . .7 l

 
 
  
 
 
  

 
 
  
   
  

    
 

 

     

“ I see plainly that yci 're considerably in the,
dark," he observed. “ I you’ve undertaken to ,
stick your nose into a furnaceLdon’t blame any
one but yourself if it gets singed off.”

“ 0b, certainly notl I rather despair-ed of
working out the biz, on the slender thread I
had first, but I feel considerably assured to-day.’
After an interview with Mr. Stephen Dore, I
presume there will he less of a mystery for me
to work up than now l” '

“ You had better not fool around Mr. Stephen , r
Dore, or you'll get hnrtl” Travisadvised.savage- , ' .' , -
1y. “ Furthermore, I presume you’ll learn , -‘ ’
that you’ve been rubbing against the wrong
porcupine, ere long.”

“ I do, I shu’n’t have to visit Porcupine
Corners!" Mike laughed, arising. “i’ll bid you

cod-(lily, sir. Bear in mind my warning about
oral '

“ Your warning, as you call it, will not have
a passing consideration,” Travi replied. “So
there will be no further possible reason why you
should call here again I”

Mike did not reply, but quitted the house and ’ i
returned down-town, feeling that he had de-
rived little satisfaction ‘from his morning’s per-

formances. . ‘ ,

He had little idea that he was followed. until
he entered a concert garden, near , Union
Square, for the purpose of seeing who might'bé.
loun 'ng there. I

A ter purchasin a’ cigar, and taking a look
around, he was a ut leaving, when he felt a
tap on the shoulder, and saw to his astonish-
ment, that he was confronted by Julius, the
waiting servant of the Dore mansion. _

“Why, hello, stove-black—what are ' yon-3 a ‘ “‘
doing here, I should like to ask?" Mike de-
mon ed.

“I was sent after on!” the dorky replied.
“ De young missus wis to see you.”

“De youn missus, eh? Who’s that'l'ia . _ ,. '

' “ Missy Age, sah—de Missy Ada.”
* “ You mean David Dore’s daughter,
Stephen’s J ulius?”
“Morse Stephen’s, sah. She Wants to see
on. 

“Where is she?" .. . '  V.

“She waits in de hack, sah, outside. You git
in, sub, an’ she explain, while you ride toward 1,
Central Park." :"  ’

“I wonder if this is a trap?” Mike mused,
eying the negro suspiciously. “ I’lr look in the ,
carriage, before I get in, I’ll bet.” v '

Aloud, he said: _ '

“All right. Lend ahead, Josephus. I’m al- » g, ,
lus willing to accommodate the ladies, yonoan ’j r '

,7 i '

 

 

 

01‘

 
         
        
     
       
     
    
  
 
  

 

They left the garden. _ g
A hack was awaiting, outside, and the wmn I m
dows were closely curtainech . . 4, 1'
Attached to the vehicle was a span of 
spirited horses, which were in turn managed y
a negro servant, In livery.  > _ ' _
Julius opened the door of the hack, and Mike 2 -
took a sharp look inside, ere he entered. .
He saw a. young and beautiful ,1, of seven-g ‘
teen or eighteen, who was richly attired, and
bore every indication of being I cultured 
refined. person. ' - V , 
She smiled him a welcome, and he no'longer .v

 
 

  
     

  
 
  
    

     

  
  
 
  
 
  

  
 
 
 

  

u

t \ Mike. the BoWery_ Detective.

 

hesitated to take a Beat'besizio her in the hack

and they were whirled rapidly away. '

. “I wanted to speuk with you, and I did not
know of any way I could do SO better. than to

, ; follow, and ask you to taken drive With me!”
i r the young lad explained. “I am Add Dore,
* _the duggetor 0 Stephen Dore, whom you called

to see. .

, “1 am very much pleasnd to have the honor
. of your acquaintance!” Mike responded. “I
'. .‘ ..' judge you are the same young lady who was
present, reclining upon the ‘sufu, during my in-

“ terview with Mr. Tracy Travis?”
“ Iain. He supposed I was sound asleep, as

,I had taken an opiate, a short time before, hav-

ing been in need of quiet and rest, after a. severe
.. attack of neuralgia. As it was, I heard every

Word of your conversation. I then pretended

to arouse, as on left the room. Tracy was de-
fi.{.ceivod nicely. , _

“What relation does he bear to you, Miss
Dore?" _

_ “ He is my betrothed husband, and is also my
own cousin."

“Indeedl I presume, then, it is a. sort of
famil y match .1"

“ it is. You see, my father is a very rich man,
and is so far along in Iyears that he don’t ex ct
,wt‘olivea great while onger. .Being very end
.olgffrucy, it is his desire that we cousins marry,
and keep the money in the family.” '

‘ “Ahr'yesyl  ,I suppose you acquiesce,
,5 then. to hisvwishas?’

“I have never. refused, sir, believing Tracy

- to he a. nice, houorableman. But, since you

‘ visit to—(ley, I have been assailed by fears that

on is not as I have a right to hope and expect.

I ’ ’ It“, on account of these feelings of uneasiness

‘ __ that [ordered my cab and followed you.”

w '  “ Well, I am sorry, lilliss Dore, if my call this
 morning has alarmed or worried you. (If in
‘my power, I will try to set to rights anything I

'huye Apuwittingiy said or done to offend

 

 

 

 

.“7— ,
Y

 

y “ Oh! it is not-that, sir. Your conduct did
- not; oflend me—hut it was some reference in
F! ‘ your conversation, which caused me much nu-
éiéissiness. Tell me, has Tracy any interest in
' any other irll” . -

“ That could not mlvxse you about for any-
‘fll‘i llkeacertaintyl” Mike answer .

' ‘“ ut youmade mention of the names of sev-
eral women—Lulu, Camille, Nora, and so forth.
 us, sir?”

" ‘ Who-the. rat two are I know not, further
ban that I .round articles in Travis‘s pocket
took so sued. NOTE! is a personal friend of
' mine .whom Travis has latelyghrocnred a position
'M'in' 3 dry goods store. he tells me he has

 

  

  

  

 

  

 
 
 

  

 

   
     
     
 

  

“brown-stone house with servants and so forth.
I v'mg he meant her no good, I t 10k advan-
’o'f an opportunity of givmghim a timely
as you heard.”
sirl—what is your barium?”

  

  

 
  
 

“ I ‘am a detective.”
“ thought you war ,.because yvou alluded be
laughing hp 0! a: ysbery. _  isit, Mr.

' "more than I can  you._1t is con-

 

hinted of marrying her, and of their living in a'

 

concerning the  further than that

 

coming a cnse I am endeavoring to unravel,
and with which I have good reasons to believe
your betrothed husband is closely connected,
because of the letters I found. Do you know
that your father ever had a brother, Miss
Dore?" '

A strange start camo over the young woman.

"0111 yes, sir. There were three brothers of
them—-pnpa_ Uncle David, and Uncle Thomas 1”

Mike begun to feel elated.

“ Are these uncles living now ?”

“ Only one of them—that is Uncle David. He
is a very bad, wicked man.”

“ Would you mind giving,r me the family his-
tory. so far as you know it, Miss Dore?"

“ Not if it will be of any use/to you, sir. I
don’t know that I am Eierfoctly posted on it, but
I will tell hate you as understand it.”

“Do so and I shall ho ever so much obliged
to you i” like declared.

“ My father and his brothers were Virginians
of poor pareutuge, and together with their fa-
ther tilted a small plantation.

“ When the gold-fever of ’49 was raging,
grandfather Dore went to California, and did
not return for several years when he brought
back with him a fortune of two million of dol-
lars. A few months after his return he died.
and When his will was opened, it’ was found
that he had left all his money to his elder son,
my Uncle Thomas.

“ As naturally was to have been expected,
there was a bitter dissatisfaction on the part of
my Uncle David and pupil, and Uncle David,
who was of a naturally rush nature, swore
Thomas should never live to enjoy the undivid~
ed fortune.

“ Thomas married and moved to the West,
but was followed by David, and my father was
afterward notified that Thomas had been killed
together with his wife and child, by David, and
that the latter was a hunted outlaw in the for
West for the crime.

“Thomas had mode a will, which, in event of
the death of his wife and child, left the fortune
to my father during his life and then to his heirs
immedmte. My father went West, settledlnp
the affairs, and returned here.

“My Uncle David went from bad to worse,
until when last heard of he was the chief of a.
band of counterfeiters, and was wanted in sev-
eral different States for various crimes. He has
written threetonin letters to papa. several
times, which seemetf to worry him very much,
but I never saw any of them,‘ and do not know
their contents.” ' v

“At last I think I see the beginning of the

end!” Mike mused to himself. “ It is'by no, -‘

means certain that there isn’t work to be done,
however. David Dore may not be the. only

black slg’eep in the flock I shall have to en- .

counter.

“.—

CHAPTER VIII.

THE snornnns’ common

THE ride continued as far as Central Park
and back but Mikelenrned little more of

importance from Miss Dora, and but httle.‘

further confirmation ensued relutive to matters

   
   
    
  
    
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
         
   
       
    
      
    
    
 

 
       
       

 

 

 

 

"‘M-www. "l, _ ,_

 

 

4 ~—

20 Mike, the Bowery Detective. v  m:
. t
candidly expressed his deep distrust of Tracy “ Why in God‘s name were you not content to  Elli
Travis. remain where you were, and not to intrude W('
Miss Dore scomcd much shocked at Travic's your villainous presence where it is not want- tin
apparent faithlcssunSs‘, and (li‘l'lilrllil her inten- H?" 5
tion of winmunimting hor doubts to her father. “ Oh! I’ve tired of being a wanderer on tho '
But Mike advmed her not to do this until he face of the earth, Siophon. and want to settle qu
personally had a further opportunity to investi- down and enjoy myself. Your money—bags are 1 yo
gate the case, and she nocordingly promised. snmciently full, as I have several times written ,, tlc
When they reached Union Square on their for you to open your folding—doors to me, and l ah
roturn, Mike bade her good-day, and made his protect me as you would an aged fathor.- To  Wl
wiiy toward Macy’s. Enteringr this emporium, llC sure, I haven't been really as good as a pur- ‘ .l ‘
he went at‘once upstairs, and was not long in son, since last we met so long ago; but I pre- ' DI
finding Nora’s stand, whore ho hogan pricing sumo it won‘t mattor particularly to you. since sic
some goods, as a pretext by which to gain time you are not the most perfect man in Christen-' , ag

to talk with her. .

“ Whore is Currie Chose?” he asked, after the
first greeting. “ Have you spoken to her about
tonight?”

“ Yes. She has no objections to coming. She
has been removed to one of too other rooms—~12
don‘t really know which." ‘ .

‘ I will look about and see if I can got a.
glimpse of her,” Mike announced.

He went from department to department of

the great store uni scrutinized the faces of tho '

muny pretty young; solos-ladies but failod to find
one answering to Dora’s photograph.

Lmving Fourteenth street, he once more sot
out for the Bowery, whore he entered tho some
upstairs ’gaming-snloon in which he had first
met George Gresham, or Ned Shields.

His was not there, however, nor had ha been
there, said Lucc the proprietor.

Not knowing what else to do. Miko turned
his footsteps toward the Astor House, dl‘Iill'lug
to know it David Doro was yet stopping
there.

If he was,iit was his intention to telegraph to
Chicago for an order for his arrest, as undoubta
edly he was pretty well known there; but tho
frigid clerk informed the inquirer that David
Dore had been a guest at that hostolry but one

av.
Mike felt disappointed, but he basci great ex-
tations on what he might learn from pretty
or: at the forthcoming interview.

 

In the mean time, an interview was ,taking

lace which it hecoino-x our duty to chronicle, as

t has direct connection with the thread of our
narrative. r

Two mon were seated at a retired dining-ta bio
in a. down-town restaurant. W inc and glasses
were before them, showing,r that they; had 0.1-
rcady dispatched their meal. Both were enough
alike in face, linure and general appearance to
be pronounced rbrothers, and such they really
were.

.The younger of the two, was David Dore.
The elder person, whose hair was more silvery,
and heard heavier,
wealthy retired merchant of 120611 street.

I He was a somewhat noblcr-looking personage
than David, but his face was now clouded and
gloomy, while that of David bore unmistakable

I traces of triumph in its expression.

_ “Yes, Stephen; your fancied security is but

' ' a face , for. as you rceiwa. your affectionate

brat has returned you.” , , ‘

“I would, to Heaven you had never lived to

l

"  natal” Stephen Doro replied passionately.

was Stephan Doro, the,

 

     
 

doml" a I . an

“Were I aking among sooundrels, you are V la‘
too bad to come within my notice or charityl‘ : (15
Stephen replied. bitterlv. “ You murdered my . m
brother, and have inherit/ad my everlasting
curse 1" ~ 3.

David uttered a sardonic laugh. th

“ What an ideal” he declared, without appaar- '_ re
ing to get the least ill-humored. “Why. bless ‘
your door heart, Steve, you were just as much ;
interestui in poor Tom’s taking off as I was. .
To be sure, I got the credit of doing the job 
proper, but, where did you ring in, except for l
the fortune, when cruel justice was doing a good
bit of ndvortisin’ for my scalp? Ohl I’m a bloody
rod—handed villain, Stove, but you’re a cunning
scamp, and my even matchl” r

“ I am no scamp. I am an honorable gentle- ‘
man,” the elder brother asserted, his growl
deepening. “ in wth instancn can you find me. I -
guilty of a. disreputable act? Not aono, sir. * I. '
have always lived an upright life {1' '

“Oh, yes, without a doubt. How about the
fortune you-fetched away from that far Iowa
town?" I - .

“1 was informed that Thomas was missing ,
together with his child: that his wife was [’0qu if  ‘
murdered in their cabin home; that a paper
purporting to come from you stated tlmtvyon I
ha i kille thmn all out of revenge; that my poor
brother’s will had been found, leaving,r his wealth '
to me. Of course I went West. I found Tom‘s 3
wife dead and huried, and Tom and the child {4
missing. Shreds of their clothing had been dis- ' '3
covered, which confirmed their fate, even though
no trace of their bodies was found. The money
was handed over to me, and I came East, Now,
then, what was there wicked about allthat, on
my part?” ' ‘

“This much: you olfrréd an extra reward for
my arrest and conviction, knowing if you could
get me out of the way. you would never have
any trouble—your right to the money would ,4
never be disputed." . . . . 1

“ Well?" \

“ Was it well? I am not so sure. old boy, that, .
it wasvvell for you. You knew you had a, .‘ .
scheming brother, but you little reckoned on all '
there was in him. You fancied yourself gain, ,
and to make yourself still safer, you did some!
thing very, very funny.” -

“ I don't know what you mean, sir.” ~.  -

“Bah! You Nev-that’s one polite fact, -You
speculated on the money for a time, until you.
enriched yourself of! from it—theu you content
ed it into railroad bonds, lathe name“ your:
daughter. Very cute, wasn’t M". , ' V r -

A

   
   
  
  
  
    
   
   
 
   
  
   
   
   
  

mud-14954

and

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

  

 

   

 

 

    

  

   
 
 

l
i

ii

:5 later one— .
 daughter and his adopted son, provided they
. married when the girl became of age.”

 thinkrao? But you can’t.

‘.
i

   

 

 

 

 
 
  
   
   
   
   
  

5Davidreepo

" when you were i 1 Iowa.”
 pose sucho, thing wero possible as the existence

' have,~ soonorior later, got to,give up Tom’s
 principal and interest, and don’t you
forge it.

‘ dreds.”

“ ., nggatdhiggiturthbrto- communicate of interest, go
,3 .  ' ‘

' v ‘f Well, I suppose I might as well do it!” and
_ 'Dnvi'd Dore glanced on either side to see if any—
 ._ was within ear-shot.
I -—for instance, at the time of the murder.” he

. , on.
g 3‘ Go ahead!”

I 7 “and when she refused

' ouml him, and a desperate struggle ensued.

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

  

21

 

“ Well, I pride myself that it was a. business
like move-eyes." ‘

“ Exactly. If an heir to Thomas Dore s money
should turn up, he, she, or whoever it might he,
would have a jolly good time trying to reclaim
the heritage, oh?"

Stephen Dore smiled complacently.

“Well, David, I perceive that you are not
quite so dull of comprehousmn us I supposed
you were," he said, with uchupklo of Fatisinc-
tlon.‘ “I am lad you are satisfied how really
absurd it woulgd be Dr any person to try to
wrest Tom’s forttiue from my Ada, now.”

“I don‘t see i in the sumo light as you do!”
nded, coolly. “I may know cou-
siderabl more about the matter than you im—
agine, or instance—that will you found was
an old one and docs not hold. There was a.

leaving everything to Tom‘s young

“ Bah] you are lying!”
“ on’t you wish you could bring yourself to
You have always
really believed that another will existed, eke
you Would not have had a private Search made
“Pooh! you are talking to idle on"; Sup-
?! a later will—how would it affect me?”
“ In a way you little dream of. Stephen. you-v

n ' ‘
ff Who to, preyl—uyou f” '

“Oh, nol I’m out of the question. I’m a
wandering rogue, with u reward on my head,
and duo publicity might give me an undesirable
vacation behind prison bars. Icon, howevvr,
will. you up in points, and perhaps win a sufi‘r
0! your favor, in this way, that you
WON “’8 hesitate to give me a lift to a few hun-

r‘fYour bright anticipations are doomed to
eclipse, sir, I assure you.» Howevery‘ii' you have

_ h “ First, however, we
' better begin somewhore near tho bcgiuning

 

 
 

“ Well. with revenge in my heart, I followed
“brother, West from Virginia. I found him
4093 11, n it new form in Iowa, miles from
any other abitatipn. «This Satisfied me that I
could effect a successful consummation of my
schools. Bel _ [Visiting the cabin, I got nerved
up, bywplen “apply of whisky, and then act
forth. :1 *l‘ound Tom’iowifie alone, at the cabin,

give me u the mnne ,
'1 brainod her. I had learned from l‘i’er that Taryn
we; .at work, in a distant watercourse, 59cm.
lug firewood. The children were visiting at a
neighbor‘e. I left a paper, proclaiming my
_ e. Whisky made me glory in such 'an act
ol'hravado. I then went in search of Tom. I

 

thought I had killed him, finally, and ma no

body in a lonely, swamp. I then hided my
time, wayluid the children, and captured them,
and bore them miles and miles from the
scene of my Crime. I had no intentidn of kill-
ing them. For years I kept them well-cared
for, but really imprisoned, in a wild mountain
retreat. I had no desire to slay them, for I had
secured Tom’s lutust will from the cahin,and
meant to turn it to good use, when they grew

11 .

D“ As they grew older, they came to regard me
as a hated nomy, and on live or six different
ocnnsions escaped me, but byu liberal use of
money, I always succeeded in recapturing,r them.
On the lns’ occasion, however, whonlhcy escaped
they visited my own quarters, to kill me, I pre-
sume, but I was own; so they stole the tin sale,
containing '1' m’s will, and some other papers,
which will enable the girl, with her sharp wits,
to pick out who and what she is, and where her
fortune lies.”

“ And you have not found her?”

Stephan Doro uttered these words in a. gasp-
ing, spasmodic sort of way.

ills face was not us florid as usual, and it was
plain that he hogan to apprehend unpleasant
impending results.

“ Nol she has not been found. -I, myself,
have traced her here to New York, but there the
trail ends. I have feared to employ regular de-
tectives, us there was‘ danger of getting the
mutton into the fire. I tried to work in a shrewd
young follow, but he was too much for me. He
first telegraphed and found out that I did not
belong where I claimed to, and then denounced
me as on impostor, and refused to work for me.”

“ That is strange. How come he to do this?”

“ Simply from the fact that another party had
proviously tried to engago him to work up the
some case!”  .

“ The deuce! tho is this other party?"

“ My llittcrest foe, and everlasting pursuer.
He is a. Chicago detective, and he searches for
me with n poclzetful of charges, and requisitions”
from different States for my arrest. He is

,_ known as i’cleg Prancerl”

“ Ah! then he in not after the girl?”

“ Ain’t he? Well, I should smile, if he wasn’t!
Stephen, he wants the girl as had us either of us
———anrl for natural causes, too i” -
Stephen Dore glared at his brother inquir-

ugly.

David nodded and smiled.

F‘You are not slow to comprehend, no more
than I am," he uverred. “It is he, sure
enough!” '

“ Ten thousand furiesl Where is be?”

“He arrived in New York about the time I
did, having come from the East, where the
game was caged.” r

“ Do you not know his present whereabouts?"

“Not to—duy. I expect to soon, however. '
He has employed a. detective named Driscoll to
wot-l; for him. I have hunted Driscoll up, and
bribed him to my side. He is a keen dew],
and open to money. Iofl’ered.him fiv‘e thou~

1

sand dollars to make Mr. Pmncer the subject
{or an inquest, and another five todellver the
girl to me, together with the safe." ,_

“ Goodl lt-is plain you havs not lost all our
judgment, , Have you an idea Where the git my

  

. »

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

“ Not exactly. Ii Driscoll cannot find her, no
one can.”

“ Does e suspect her actual value?”

“Not t int I am aware of."

“And what do you propose to do, if she is
delivered to you i"

“ Simply this: make myself solid for life, by
forcing: you to divvy up Tom‘s boodle, and then
hand’ the girl over to you, to do with as you
wili!’

“ Sol 90! You are playing a cute game, ain’t
you? What it I refuse?”

“ Then. I’ll produce ample proofs of who the
girl is, and she shall turn you out oi? doors, and
I’ll kill you in the bargain!”

” So you think you’ve got me, dead to rights,
eh? What if I should misc an alnrm, and give
you into the custody of the police?"

Dnvid Dore lnughcd grimly.

“ It would be the last act of your life, I warn
you. I am e bud man to trifle with, as you'll
find out, it' you tire squeamish, in the least. So
you bud better play safe with me, for half, than
pity for the whole, and lose all i"

“I am not so sure of that—yet I must have
time to consider. Where is this step-son of our
brother-or adopted son? I never heard of him,
before.” '

“ Didn’t you? “fell, he is known as Edward
Shields, and was with Dom, when they escaped.
The irl came here, and I dare say Shields has
joiner her.” '

Stephen Dore poured out a. glass of Wine, and
lit a cigar.

“ It is plain that we, must work to save an
unwelcome accident!” he said, his brows drawn
into a scowl. “Therefore, I will take you into
partnership, and when we are mutually satis-
fied that all obstacles have been positively re-
moved, beyond peradventure, you and I will

' share the inheritance equally. I see no other
way to prevent a disgraceful explosion.”

" You have good judgment, worthy of n
kingl” David asserted, rubbing his hands with

‘gzlee. “I will, then, in foroi n clinics, snap my
fingers at the law that won] crush me here.”

“ Well, let us adjourn then. When you learn

‘ more you can notify me by mail.”

“ Correct! But, Ste )hen, considering all the
expense and trouble have been to, can’t you
put up for Driscoll’s services?”

“I have no such amount of money with me.
We will meet here toLmorrow, and fix the mat-
ter up.”

They then arose and quitted the restaurant,
not suspecting that a. person had been swallow-
ing a. square meal. a few feet in the rear of
where they had sat, and had, likewise, been
swallowing almost every word they had
uttered, for they had not spoken cautiously and
he listened with intense solicitude.

This rson was Mike, the Bowery Detective.
He he at last. “ dropped " upon a windfall.
having been seated there before the entrance of
the pores, as if directed by some invisible good
genius. '

CHAPTER. IX.
DORA. '
ermo until the two Dores had fairly left

 

the restaurant, Mike arose and, followed them, at

a respectful distance, not desiring to bedisoover; .
ed by them. '

They soon separated, however, Stephen Dore ‘
taking an uptown Elevated train, and David
Dore proceeding further down town, on foot.

It was him Mike desired to trace to his lair,
for knowledge of his whereabouts might prove,
invaluable at u later stage in the drama.

First Doro went to Broadway, and visited
several steamship, offices, along that 'busy
thoroughfare. ' .,

“ 1 smell a. large-sized rat!” Mike muscd as he
kept in the background. “ Davy the duck, pro-
poses to get off of terror, firma, as soon as ho
clinches onto the divy his brother has promise]
him. A cunning duffer, is Davy, nndIshall
have to watch out he don’t get ahead of me.”

After his visit to the ticket ofice, Doro
made his way toacheup lodging-house, on the
Bowery, and disappeared therein.

Knowing the manager of the lace, Mike had
little (liiliculty in finding the ocation of tho
villain’s apartment, and also learned that he
had paid for the room a week in advance. ' I ‘

Satisfied that he needed no particular watch-
ing for the present Mike then made his Way
toward his own 10 gings, where he put in the
balance of the day in sleep, and in figuring out
the singular case with which he had been con- *
nected. Not until four o’clock in the afternoon
did he again venture forth to innkeatour at
such resorts as he 'udged either Ned Shields or '
Peleg Prancer mig t frequent, but up’ to night-
fall, ho had found no trace of them. '

Then he returned to his room, to await'the
coming 0! Nora and Doro. Dore. ‘  ‘ “ .,:

They made their appearance at the proper
time, Nora. ushering the pretty heiressvinw the
young detective’s presence with an air at
triumph. _. " ';' ,

Miss Dore grew pole ‘at sight Of‘Mzke, and.
made a. movement to escape from the room, ,
but Nora. prevented, by closing and [locking the '
door and putting the kgy in her ket. 1 \

“Don’t be sken'rt. arrie. his is my best
friend, Mr. Mike Maverick, better known’as.
Mike the Bowery Detective. He’s a; ' t.
gentleman, and ye needn’t be nfesrd of him.” ’

“.But you have deceived me. N era. 

I was to meet one of your lady acquaintanms‘.” I

“ Ididn’t tell you so, did I?"

“No—huh” ~ - ,, 1 ‘ '

“ Prey be seated, Miss Doro, and have no fear.
of me, for you will find in me your warmest
friend 1” Mike said, politely. I 'I 730* ’ _,

Doro. started and grew still; paler, as she,
stared in alarm at the Bowery Detective. ‘

She was by all odds the prettiest girl 
ever encountered, thought Mike, evenith
her attirewas not as fine ns‘righttully bessm ,
her station. in life. _ '  ' i

“ Sir? Why—how—l” she stammerell; Words,
refused to come to her almond tears ‘
into her eyes. ~ ' "

“I pray you will besented, dearledy,"
urged. placing her a chair. ‘ 13st «being:
lured into the trap of your .enemy. H'thfih'mt
to believe, you have been brought tonne whose ,,
special object it is toright your  . ,
you not accept this brth explanation, on
can further convince you?” , .  i

\

 

.Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

A‘f ‘ - She sunk reluctantly upon the Seat, very lit-
.,; tie of the pellet leaving her otherwrse rosy
"cheeks. . .

“You will pardon me, 511‘ but to me it seems
incredible that you, a. perfect stranger, could
be my friend.” _ ' ‘

’ “No doubt of it, in my mind, dear Miss Dore.
Iam aware of many of the trials you have had
to undergo, Because of your uncle’s villainy,
but, I assure you’ as a friend, and as a. detec-
tive, that there is an end to all things, and so
there is an end to David Dore’s machinationle

“ Anelyou a. detective sir?"

. “ I have the honor of eing one of that craft.”

“You bet, Mike’s just adaisy detective!” Nora.

’assured. proudly. “ Mike and I are old chums,
and I expect he will be making a detective out
of me one of these days.”

"Is David Dore dead, sir?" Dora asked anx-
iously, without noticing Nora’s remark. ' _

“ No—he’s just as lively as a. flea, but his 11%-

' liness is goingto get him into trouble, before
many moons, and don’t you forget itl Do on
know anything with respect to your early ife,
Miss Dore?”

 ‘ , “.I know that I was abducted, together with

I my adopted brother, and was told that my father

and mother had been killed. David Dore told
us this. For years he held us us ca tives. The
reason he assigned for this was that e ntan who
hedgmurdered our rents was searching the
world over for-us, ,th the desire to take our
refinanci- it was necessary to keep us secreted in

l' order to escape his vengeance.

* “ As we grew older, we grew to disbelieve, and

to regard our uncle as a. wicked and designing
r mun. Ono night we overheard him talking in
his sleep, and learned enough to cause us to be-
,lieve that he was the murderer of our parents,

3 2'; .a’nd that we were heirs to a large fortune, left

by, our father, and that David Dore was with-
holding from us our rights, in order to perfect a
pecuniary scheme of his own. .

“ lfime‘end nguiu we tried to escape our ca

‘ ; V. r]! instancehesucceeded in rota -

ingns, and each time punished us more and more

severely, until endurance ceased to be a virtue.

It was useless, however, for us'te seek to baffle

or elude him, for he was every demon on our

trail. Our lust incurccrati’on’w'as in a, 311 posed

private asylum run by a Doctor 8 ey, in

New Hampshire—an asylum only in name. how-

. 7 over, as no demented or diseascdupetientever

" entered there, it being merely 3- PT 1501! '10!) View

time of evil and designing persons who were,

Willing to pay the ‘Doctor' for his accommoda-
tions and ‘vile services."

“ Yours as been a sad lot, Miss Dore. Wha_t

on have ,, me is not new to me, although it

 ' been known only a. few hours. I heard Du~

wd Dore reciting the whole remarkable story to _

his brother, this very afternoon.”
“ His brother?”
~ , fires—Stephen Demo—your other uncle, who
all our father’s wealth.” _
as no aware I had another uncle, sir !”
rDu’vid Dore has no doubt kept you
iot'thefact. Your father had two
 we matters have finally been
 mm is for the two brothers
M equally, and that, you and

1 Wish that

 

another are to be captured and forever put out
of the way."

Dora’s lip quivered. .

“ You do not mean to tell me, sir, that another
terrible murder is contemplated?”

“ Just that, Miss Dore. Were you to fall into
their builds, your life would not be worth speak-
in for. ’

gMerciful Heaven! am I yet to be hunted
down alter my long years of suffering and sus-
pense? I shall go mad, sir, il’. 1 have to stand
the worriment much longer 1” r

“ Do not worry in the least, dear lady. In
me on have an earnest friend, who is as true as
stee . Trust to me and I will bring everything
torightsin due time. If you follow my direc-
tions they'll have a good time finding you. Do
you possess the trunk-23. small tin safe, I be-
lieve—Which contains among' other documents,
your father’s last will?” ,

“No, my adopted brother, Ned, took charge
of that when we separated for the finrpose of
throwing pursuers oflf the truck. 0 was to
meet me, per appointment in Herald )ersonals,
as soon as he arrived from Boston, ut he did
not, 3.51:3 I have not heard from him since we

rt .

“ I rather 0 inc he’s here, though!” Mike
announced. “ hetsort of asnoozer is he, any-
how?"

1“ Ned is a. nice, kind young mam—a little wild
sometimes, but guild-hearted end trusty. We
have both been buffeted about‘ since infancy,
you'know, and Ned has a. violent tem )er, and
0. sort of mania—en abhorrent dread of my
terrible uncle. I do believe he fears my uncle
more than any other being upon the face of this
earth.” -

“ He’s a queer ’un, anyhow. I got on his trail
t’other night: He was goin to commit suicide
in the river, but I stopped him, and he got mad
and 'tched me overboard in front of the boat.”

“ h! mercy l" w ,

“Factl I at out, though. a. wetter but wiser
man. Since hon I haven’t seen his nibs.”

“It is very strange he should have attempted
to commit suicide,” Dom said, “ although he has
several times become very melancholy over being
a. hunted men." '

“ I suppose you have examined the c‘éntents of
the safe—that is, you know it was your father’s
fyou should become your foster-
brother‘s wi e?" r .

“ Yes. That is known to me, but it is, a

nutter of very little importance, as Nod and I

have both a reed that such a match is unde-
sirable for oi her of us. Ned has sworn to stick
b “1:19: thxi'olugh (thiclfiland thifl, but he, (loves a V
, n 1‘ an ' wi merr er some a. no ’

doubt.” g .' y ,, .  i

“ Well, before '.we can do much for you, Miss
1303's,!1t Will be necessary, to find this fellow,
Shields, and obtain the last will or your father.
This Vlle not be the hardest job, however. How - i
we Will force Stephen Dore to give’up your _
rightful fortune, except by law, is not niceso
plain to me, and you are aware that the aw is a
tough customer to fight, except you have all the
right on your suite, and, 3.; power of money to
back it u ‘

'H .
{‘1} wagon, young teller, “Won’t be or soy» 1

 

 

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

need for ya ter g0 tor law l” a disagreeable voice
cried, and the door was burst open, and half a
dozen rough-looking rowdies entered, headed by
Bob Driscolll

Each man g‘asped a dirk—knife except Dris—
coll, who instantly covered Mike with a bulldog
revolver.

“ Not a peep, ye blo’g‘unrd l” the villainous de-
tective growled. “ Ye know none, of the neigh-
bors loves ye, an’ of ye try any monkey bizness
we’ll leave two of ye for the coroner to look at
to—morry 1”

Mike was taken so wholly by surprise that
they had an undeniable “ drop” on him before
he could make u move.

His courage was not dauntcd, and he put on a
bold front.

” Hello! What the blamxs d’ye call this sort of
thing?” he cried sternly. “ What d’yo mean by
breaking into my room in this fashion?"

“ We menu that thcr game belongs to We, Us
and Company!” Driseoll declared, grimly, “ an’
we mean business. If ye try to raise an alarm,
ye kin bet you’ll never raise anotherone. Boys,
bind and gag the cuss. Ef he attempts resists
anco I’ll put a bullet through him. No fear any
one will inquire into the cause of n. pistol—report
in these quarters, I assure you. [f there is any
trouble, there is more ways than one out of this
building.”

Mike at once saw that resistance was next to
useless.

Driscoll’s companions were of the roughest
characters from the slums, and {it for any crime
that would yield them gain, and Mike know
only too well that their leader was no better
than were they.

Should he attempt to fight them oil’, there
seemed little doubt but that he would be disabled
—pcrhaps killed, while it was possible that both
Nora and Dora would be used even as badly; so,
when the roughs advanced, he made no move to
frustrate their intention, until—

A sudden thought occurred to him.

Directly behind him was a window which
opened into a. court, or area, which was a. dis
tnuce of about twelve feet to the pave.

During his knock-about life, Mike had not
failed to learn his little mite of athletics and
gymnastics, and a sudden resolve entered his
mind; he would try a desperate undertaking.
If he received injury, it was no more than he
was likely to be Subjected to at the hands of Bob
Driscoll.

As the roughs came toward him he suddenly
turned a backward somerset. There was a
crash, and a disappearance of window-sash,
glass, Mike, and all.

The astonished roughs, with Driscoll at their
head, sprung to the opening, with cries of as-
tonishment, and glared down into the darkness
below. '2

At the bottom lay the fragmnnts of the win-
dow-sash, but the daring detective was not to
be seen.

“ He has escaped !” Driscoll cried, with an
oath. “ Quick] we must get out of this!”

They turned, seized Dora, throw a show]
over her head, and carried her bodily from the
T0011].

 

A blow from Driscoll’s vicious fist laid Nora
senseless upon the floor.

Darker than the shades of Styx was Hester
Street that night, and the villains had no difii.
oulty in getting their captive into the Close cab
that was waiting by the curb.

Driscoll and another man also got in, and
the vehicle drove ofi’.

At the corner of the next block, a sturdy and
yet stylish figure darted out from the shadows,
and began to give chase.

He found, however—for it was the Bowery
Detective—that he was no match for the two
horses In the race, and finally stepped, out of
breath, and very much disappointed.

“ They’ve got her, sure enoughl" he grittedh

“ and Heaven only knows where they will take
her. For the present I am baffled, but I’ll swear
it shall not be long. I’ll yet find her."

Seeing no possible Chalice of immediately
learning whither Dora was to be taken, Mike
set out on his return to his lodgings, to see how
Nora had fared; but on arriving at his room,
he found Nora gone, and that none ol’ the other
occupants of the tenement n upenred to know
anything of what had occurre

tter a few moments of deli, ,erntion, he once
more started forth. '

Nora. was undoubtedly safe; 1‘, Kt what of Dora
Dore?

She must be found, and that too, very soon, or
the chances were she would nevu‘ be heard of
again.

of

\ 1v

'ut-

First he made his way to a telegraph ollire on3

Broadway, and sent the following message:

“ To rm: MAYOR on Cmnror Poucz of Chicago, Ill. :
" ls l)av1d Dore, criminal, wanted? If so, (or,
what, and price?”

He then hurried back to the Bowery, and to
the lodging-house where Dora’s room was locatml.

Inquiry of the manager revenlevl "he fact that
Dore was still in his room, which MAT ‘1‘?" garded
as good news. '

‘ It is now but a. matter of time and circum-
stances!" he muttered. “I have got to watch
the every movement of Davy, in order to find
out the whereabouts of Dora. Driscoll, or some
of: his gang will surely communicate ,with
David, and that, too, very likely, before any
harm is done to Dora.”

And, just one hour later, Mike had the satis-
faction of seeing Dore leave the lodging-house.

It was now to be a game of shadowingl

CHAPTER X.
o N 'r H E 'r n A I L .

On leaving the lodging-house, David
Dore looked sharply around him as if suspi-
cious that watchful eyes were upon him; but
Mike was quartered in a dark doorway across
the way, and the keen gaze of the arch villain
fniledto see his enemy.

Walking along the Bowery to Prince htrect,
and thence to Crosby street and thence into
Marion street, David Dore entered one of the
groggerics on this street, and remained within
the ordinary space of time for a man to quad? a.
glnss of beer.

He then reappeared, and looked ca'utiously up
and down the street.

 

the

"101‘
18
if

  

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l

, -fi.~_“_fiv‘fl . .
H.-.‘ ._'..Am ..

 

  

 

Mike, the Bowery Detective.
’ '

   

I”. . .z..,..-,..»,..... u .....M.... .«W01w7~..owgg,wm m...

 

23

 

 
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
 

In a doorway, where shadows were dense
' enough to conceal a human form, stood Mike,
Watehing'nis pray with the eyes of a hawk.

It was now plainly evident to him that Dore
suspected that he was £0110wed; and this was
precisely what Mr. Dore did believe, although,
as yet, only intuition excited the suspicion.

‘ He gazed inquirin ly toward Mike’s place of
concealment, and a couple of steps in that
direction, as if impressed with the idea that he
would find an enemy lurking there.
He. however, immediately desisted from his
Bzrpose, and finally starting 01? up the street,
went perhaps a hundred yards, then wheeled,
abruptly, and looked back.
Evidently he expected to catch his pursuer in
' the act of dogging his footsteps, but the street,
up rently, was wholly deserted.
ike had anticipated a mow of this kind, and
’ had very wisely kept to his covert.
A ' Dore remained long; enough tolightacigar,
' and then Set out brisk y.
Half-expectingrho would look around every
(few, minutes, Mi ,;o took up the pursuit, slowly.
. {The “ wanted_7‘,’man went directly to Broad-
' way, and then’tJe north through that thorough-
fare to Thirty—i juth street, and then over to the
_, vicinity of the JOIN] River.
Here he disappeared so suddenly that Mike
. . was puzzled. He did not see his prey enter an
, ' building, nor rlid he see him laws the sidewa]
M‘s-yet it was an undeniable fact that the man
«was gone.
For half an hour the Bowery boy scouted
about the neighborhood and “ took in ” the visi-
..ble points, but without much satisfaction.
Dore had disap ared, and that was all there
was ot-it, and Mi e finally name to the conclu-
fiioh that there was little use for him to con-
‘  any further in that direction.
Accordi; ,iy he made his wa . back to Ninth
avanu? ,‘nn‘ll took the Eleva cars for down-
tOWD. , . /
'filthoufih pnettywell tired out, he was still
game. mm was no sleep in his eyes, as long
3 there was a ossible chance to obtain a clew.
4 his way own-town he indulged in a care-
ful deliberation, and the result of it was he
, made his way to the Bowery lodging-house
where David Dore held forth.
It happened that Jem June. the manager or
', the-88th llshment, was alone in his dingy office,
which, fragrant with the fumes of had tobacco,
was also liberally decorated with lithographs of
Sta ’ Iavorites of more or less prominence.
rough “ steering" June out of a bunco
amo, once upon a time, Mike had won the
manager’s hearty friendship, and therefore he
felt Warranth in. requesting a return of favors.
~ [To use the popular slang. “ there was nothing
’ slow about June.” and he set out a box of cigars
the moment the yonn detective entered.
, f‘E-Vening to ye.
thehulls and bears?” , .
“The bovinerather has the bear on his horns,
Jain, and it devolves upon you' to liberate the
mm. mm by allowing a little strategy to be
rtormed within the precinct: of your dormi-
l” Hike announced, with seriooomic grav—

  

  

  
   
  
 
  
  

     
     
    
    
  

 

  
   

 

 

ikel” he saluted. “ 'Ow’s'

 

    
   
    
   
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
 
    
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
   
   
    
 
    
   
 
  
  
   
    
  
  
    
 
 
 

“I fail to catch on,” he said, elevating his
heels upon the oilice table. “ Will ye please be
more explicit?” ' 7

“I will endeavor to explain!’? Mike said,
lighting up. “You have u lodgcr, i. believe, by
the name of David Dore?”

Business—like, June rel'vrred to the register in
front of him, and announced that Mr. David
Dore did room there, in Room 41; although he
had previously posted the young detective as
to the fact, at that young gentleman’s solicita—
tion.

“ Is Mr. Dore in his room?” was Mike’s next
query. ‘ >

Again June referred, but this, time it was to / V '
his key—rack.

“Dore is not in,-Michoell” he announced,
with the air of n. Metropolitan Hotel clerk.
Then he condescended to add: “ Vl’hut particu—r
lar interest have you in the aforesaid Dorel’i

“ Well, to tell the truth, I propose to slam it 1"
Mike declared, grimly. “ That is tosay, I mean
to go trapping for foxes, and r:ollnr a ittlo fur.
to line my pocketbook. Did you ever see this?”
and he exhibited his budge, whoreat the lodging—
ho’use manager wliistled.

I see! I see!” he commented.

f‘ And you likewise perceive the enormity of
the importance of my resent visit. This royal
rascal, Dore, is a villa n of the first water, and
it is my business, as a representative of the re— »
quirements of legal jurisdiction, to investigate
the way and means of Davy’s manner of sub—
sistence, and so forth. Therefore, suspecting
that David will soon return, laden down with
the spoils of a nocturnal pilgrimage, l desire to
be granted the rivilege of concealing to self
in his room, hoping to hear much that will in the ‘
future embellish the police records, and make
newsvlior the penny daily periodicals of the present
time. ‘

And after delivery of this bit of talk Mike
seized u on his jaw, as if in fear it would lorcak.

Jem uno put up his hands, imploringl .

“Don’tl” he said. “Another. inflic ion of
that kind, will be my death.” .
“ Well, I’ll drop on the dictionar , then. In "
lain, solid Latin I want you to at me into
ore’s room, so tint when he returns, I can
hear and see all that transpires. I’m working
up‘a serious case, Jam, and my success all do- r
pends on getting into hls room.”

“Can’t do it, young manwan‘t do it. That
would be an offense for which I might get a long
term of imprisonment l”

“Bah! Nonsense! What are the laws? Is
not ever ' citizen expected to lend justice 5 ‘
helping and? I say, Jeni June, Pm goin’ to
occupy bavid’s room, and if you don’t aid and .
shot me in my plans, I’ll pull you up before“.
police court for being Dore’s accomplice in
crimp. OhI but there’s nothing slow about
mol ,1,

J one was not a cityobred individual nor were;
his intellectual accomplishments of the highest
order, and he really knew very little about the _
laws; hence was not certain but what Mike
could make him trouble, of which, in his honest ..
heart, he had a great horror. . “ - A
‘ After a little parley, he consentedtoMlke'ii
proposition, and within a few minutes ’ de-

 

  
  

 
 
 

 

    
  
  
   
   
   
 
 

      
   
 

   
 
   
   
   

  

 

 

' ‘1' find out.

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

a

‘tecti've was under the bed, which Dore was to
occupy, should he come in.

It was a cramped and uncomfortable position; ‘

’ but with true detective patience, Mike waited,
_ satisfied he would learn enough to repay him for
his trouble.

‘ It was three o’clock in the morning, ere a key
turned in the lock, Duver Dore then entered

’ the room, closing and securing the door after
him.

Mike got a. glimpse of his face, to see that it
reflected satisfaction and triumph in a superla—
tive degree.

' It told to Mike that the villain was cognizant
ff Dora’s capture, and had very likely seen
101'.

Doro appeared fatigued, however, and throw
off his coat with u growl.

“ Well, the bird is caged once more, and if
she escapes this time it will be something like a
miracle!" he nudibly muttered. “ Thut fellow
Driscoll is u. faithful dog, and he’ll not be apt to

\ let her escape, when by vigilance for a. short
time, he can lay his hand upon ten thousand

» dollars. Oh, no !"

. v “ So Driscoll is the jailer, eh?" Mike mused,
“ and the girl is still alive and safe. So far/co
good! The important thing is to find out Where
Driscoll has his bird caged. If Dore can’t vouch-
safe me the information, there‘s another way to

Inspector Byrnes can easily furnish
men to watch Driscoll‘s movements.”

vDore did not further express his thoughts in
words, but took a drink of liquor from a pocket
flisk, and then threw himself upon the bed,
without disrobing.

. If the sleep of the unrighteous is not sound,
Dora’s case must have been particularly an ex-
ception, for his heavy snoring soon proclaimed
him to be in a deep sleep. 

The first streaks of early dawn\,began to shoot
in , at the window, and warned Mike that what
was to be done must be done quickly.

Creeping cautiously from beneath the bed, he
took a good look at the sleeper to make sure
that he was wholly unconscious; then he looked
about him for some means of binding Dora’s

' ' feet and ankles. ~

' Findin nothing more convenient, be bound
them wit the two towels on the rock, which he
( ‘ first wetted, then twisted for the purpose.
" The liquor Dore had imbibed, helped to dead-
en his slumber, so that he did not awaken, and
Mike went through his work without arousing
the sleeper. ,
When David Dore awakened, he found the
, Bowery Detective sitting on the bed beside
_ him, toying with a dangerous-looking knife. _
 WShl Notapeep or I’ll stick ye!” Mik‘e ad~
“mouished. “I mean bizness, Davy, and if you
' . don’t want to die before the law gives you a.
chance. you’ll be discreet; Otherwise the coro-
*- nor will be called here to make, an inquest dur-
ing the coming day. D’ye hear me?”

“I fancy I am not deaf,” Dore gmwled, mak- -

ing un'unavailin attempt to burst his linen
bonds. 523101) in cruel young whelp of Satan,
what do you mean by this sort of business? Be-
eaée me at oncel” . r , . ;

3“ When the swallows homewsrd fly, Davy,
, apsjl muymthat dependin’ altogether on

,_ D’ye think

; lost track
room awhile ego, I

 

how you conduct yerself. Ye see, Davy’,“I’m »'
dead on her yer little racket, an’ I intend tel!
work ye the sameas I would a old mine. If
ye pan out well, so good! If ye on’t, a’ll hopes
0’ yer hein’ a success hire a dead open-en’-
shut failure. So you see there’s but one course
for you to pursue, an’ it behooves you to travel:
alon it faster than on a j -trot,y you bet.”

“ ah! You are a bar ing cur. If I get
free, I’ll make you sorry for this indignity!” the
villain declared, savagely. “I’ll cry for help,
and have you arrested, curse you 1" ’

“ Try it on, old rooster. If you try anything‘
of that sort, I’ll mighty quick shove ye inter
the Tombs for the murder of Thomas Dora’s
witel” Mike warned. “The fact is, Davy, your
ball of yarn him about run outto theend, and ye
might as well make a clean out an' out breastot -
matters, an’ thus stand a chance 0‘ getting legal
lenienc .” l ‘

“ I’ll do nothing of the kind,” the villain de-'
clared. “D’ye think I fear an upstart like
you? I guess not! You’ll find you’ve got

old of the wrong sort of a bad man when you
try t work me." I .

‘T We where you mistake, Davy. A man
of you’re bad character is just .thevcortrot a
hairpin I like to bend into shape.» Yemseer
there’s more . fun in working a real outvandé i
outer, than there is a tame, ninety—nine cent vil- 
lain~more real enthusiasm in a. victory‘of this'
sort. And, as it happens that I have you com-
pletely at my mercy, you will see that I’ve

every reason for enjoying the situation to a ' .

greater extent than you can.” -,

I“ You Mei-emerituny good of gab, for a green
kid; but, pray tell us how you presume to b
gained any power over me?”   L

“ Easy enough. Believing you are wanted in
Chicago, I have telegraphed declaring my capa-
bility of laying hands on you at a minute’s
notice. [I expect an answer early in the mom-
infg, announcing that an officer has»
to {c you to the scene of your former crimes!

Dore looked uneasy at this.

“ You lie l” he gritted.

“ Bet your life I don’t l” Mike calmly assured
“ I overheard your interesting conversatio
with your brother Stephen yesterday,ij eon»
elude it was about time for meta take a hand
in the game. It‘s a real dramatic scheme you’ve
got up against Dora Dore, ain’t it? But you’ll“
find to your sorrow that it won’t work.” ,

“ Won’t it, thou h?" V . ‘ i ;

“ No, it won'tl ’ll knock smitherosnsoetot *
that s’cheme before I’m 01!. this 1?
bet on, that] Now, sir, what I desir to
is—wbere ’ve-yon got the girl shut up?”

' “ What girl?” , r ' .

‘ “ Oh! don’t be so innocent! Where is Dom
I)??? d’ I k l 'i' d ’

ow . e suppose now, can can

lzm a general dir i” . 
You're a general idiot to supposethet n r
can shut my eye up. Dora Dore 'Ygalfibfluctedé
last night—for it's how 'mostmmmg, from my
room, and Driscoll abductedher for you. You».
afterward went to the pines Where'she is held}
captive. I dogged you for ,a ways. but
of you. When you re-ente
heard you samba:

 

m7 Mike, the Bowery Definitive. '

 

caged, which proves that you were at the cage.
Now, sir, you ve got to tell me where Dora. is
secreted !”

“May I neVer see another sunrise if 'I do!”
the Villain sneered. “ It yon‘think I’d give up
the game, young fuller, when It’s all in our_0wn
hands. you’re the most mistaken youthful Jack~
ass that ever brayvd.” ,

“ So you are inclined to be muhsh, are you?”
Mike growled, his face hardening. “ It won’t

, work with me. Davy,.l’m not a perfect saint,
Thy any means, and I give you fair warning that
"if i don’t get a straight and truthful answer

, from on, you will get seriously hurt."

. “ I’ll never tell you—I’ll see you in purgatory

' first,‘you hear me, you whelp!” and the desper-
' ate solicmer looked decidedly as it he meant it.

, ‘ Mike allowed no trace of disappointment to
cress his face. ' I

“I've a mind to knife you for your obsti-
myl”_he declared, grimly. . “ Fire a better plan

. than-t, however. I’ll go out. get an rflicer,

.and one youto less comfortable quarters nt
one of our police stations. When the proper

V authority urrivcs from Chicago, you will un-
doubtedly be treated to a picturesque trip across
the Continent as far as (‘hic-in—agn!"

' And rising from the bed, he made a. move to
leave the room.
h.David Dore flung a torrent of curses after

1m. .

$60 with your apple-earl! You’ll see

ere you’ll borne out. Put me in jail if you

' Z ’d I'll outwit you then. Go ahead, I say,
but loo you. out for your life once I got my

reedoml l’ll cut your heart. out as sure’s there
is a sharp knife to be found in America 1”

. , 4 CHAPTER XI.
‘ CAGING A “conicnafl’
MIKE paid no attention to the threat, but left
'.the room and locked the door after him. '
Descending to the olfice. he‘l'ound the light
1 ‘ g scandal" j
 ‘ " ‘ flies chair. ,
wake‘ning him b a rough shake, Mike gave
him the keys and so. d:
“ Mimi, now, if there’s any noise up there, you
0 and make. the follow dryup. I’ll be back to
arrest him directly.” '
' Heliad l’ull made up hisnund on his course
of action as going the most sensible thing he
could do. '
v ,.'.l‘ allow David Dore his freedom once more
 he llrerally equivalent to signing poor
1 death-warrant.
' Straight to the nearest: lice-station he went,
' ' met-.mskln‘a comp int against Bob Dris-
pistol-twde he Bowery, accompanied by a
Dore was taken in custody and conducted to
the station-home but not without his treating
i e and the policemen to a fearful torrent of

3 Weir-wing the ser

to be admit

eant not to allow the ris~
to bail it is could be he' ,

rte (Mike) got advice from Chicago, me-

altective “once more took himself back to: the

a”.  broad daylight, and Mike’slflrst
do get away With a good breakfast

.1 no snoring away as he eat

some one down

 

at one of the respectable restaurants. His next
move was to visit the telegraph-office from
which he had dispatched to Chicago.

A message had just been received, which said:

“ Dave Doro wanted. Hold him until special ofii-
cer with requisitions arrives."

It was signed by the chief of police.

“ He don’t mention any reward,” Mike mut-
tered. “ I’ll bet, if there is one. I’ll sock in my
claim for it. This playin’detcctivc for nothing,
and boarding one’s self in the bargain, ain’t
hardly what it’s cracked up to be. Reckon,
mebbe, ef Dora gits her rights, she’ll divy up
sensible-like.” ’

This, however, was something akin to count-
ing chickens before they were hatched.

From the telegra h office he made his way to:
Sixth avenue and ourteenth street, and spent
a full hour in watching the salesgirls as they‘
came along and entered Macy’s to begin their
day’s work.

But, though he watched, he saw nothing of
Nora, and at once formed the conclusion that
some ill had befallcn her from the trouble of the
previous night.

Knowing where she dwelt, he turned his steps
toward the dismal street, and hurried along
anxiously.

In passing apolicc station he was just in time
to see a trio of men carrying a man inside from
an ambulance.

Some intuition he could not account fo’r
caused him to follow into the station to get a
glimfise of the unfortunate’s face. What, then,
was is surprise to see lying upon the stretcher
no less a personage than the redoubtable Pcleg
Prunccr!

He was insensible, and upon his brow was a
rugged wound, where he had been struck by
some rough instrument or object.

“ Hello! I know this man!” Mike cried. “ His
name is Prancer. ’ Where did 9 find him .7”

_ “ L in’ down on one o’ the ast River docks,”
welt eanswer. “Guess some one tapped him
an’ throw‘ed him into the river, and he crawled
out ag‘in for his clothes. He’s the second hos—
pital case this morning.”

, “He must not go there!” Mike said, exhibit-
ing his badge. ‘.‘.There is important, business
on foot for him, and I do not believe his injury
will disable him after he recovers consciousness.
I will see that he is cared for." - ‘\

Restoratives were promptly applied, and in
due time Peleg Pranoer opened his eyes.

He’ looked grimly enough at the officers, but
his face lighted up a little at sight of the Bowery
DotectiVE.

“ By hokey! Is that you, younker?” he cried, '
sitting up and grinning at the v\{roung blood as ii‘. ,
pleased. “ Glad to see you. hat’s the matter
of me?” '

“ Nothing much, only some one has been rap-
pig]; you on the head. Didn’t you know about i
it . a _ l .

Pram-er scratched his head. , '_
. “ Well, now that I come to think about it, I

reckon I do- I had an‘ appointment tomcat
hchast River last n' ht,and ‘ ’

I. kuowed.’ didn’t »

was-waitin’. when,"'fnrst
was consciwe of tumbling

knoir  I

4

 

    
  
 
  

28 Mike, the Bowery Detective.

into the river, and had sense enough to get out.
That’s all I remember occurring until now.”

“I )resmne you have an idea who assaulted
you?" Iiko said. “ l. have.”

“ It does not matter!" l/‘runrur hastily replied.
“ (tome along with me, boy, till I get my wound
tinkorcd, and we can get matters fixed up later
on."

The oiliccrs were not inclined to lot l’runcer
go, but at Mike’s demand l’runcur was permit-
ted to accompany him from the Station house.

They went to the nearest doctor, where the
wound was dressed, after which they set out en
route down-town, Mike having abandoned the
idea of hunting up Nora for the present.

On the way tho subject of the assault upon
Prancer was more fully discussed.

“ You were to meet Bob Driscoll, weren’t
you?" Mike asked.

" Yes, I was. What of it?”

“Lots! I thought you’d soon get your fill of
that snoozerl"

“ You think he struck me, do ye?"

“ I should snicker! Ho’s as bad at heart as
any”eut—throat in the city. “ D’ ye miss any col—
lat?

“ No. I didn’t have much with me, and
there's none of it gone.”

“ What were you to meet Driscoll in such an
out-of-the—way pluco for?" Mike queried, oying
the Yankee keenly. '

.“ He claimed he had found where my daugh-
ter was, and if I met him there he would take
1119 to her."

“ Ha! ha! ha! And you were fool enough to
believe him?”

“ I considered his word good, although my
confidence in him has not been growing since
last I met you.”

“ I was afraid you‘d git bit. It’s lucky, how—
ever, that you’re no worse for wear. I know
this Driscoll and all about him, and I trust that
we’ll find him behind the bars before sunsot!"

“Ye don’t say? W but will that be for?"

“ For deviltry in general, but most important
just now for abduction.”

“ \Vhat?"

“For abduction.”

“ Not—not of my Gracie?”

“ No—not of your Gracie, but of your dough-
ter, Dora, Mr. Thomas Dore !” and Mike
laughed.

The Yankee started violently, and gave Mike
a sharp, searching glance.

“What d’ye mean?” he growled, evidently in
bud humor.

“ I mean that the I’rancer racket won’t work
worth a cent. Its b’iler is cl’ar bu’sted, und
’taiu’t fit for use no longer. Ye sec, I’ve inves-
tiguted the hull affair, Thomas, and all thctI
have found out wouldn’t go inside of n. diction—
ary. Prancer are very good to stufl’ turkeys
With, but no good for stutfin’ Bowery shang—
highs, you can bet! So you see, you and I
might as well understand each other, first as
last. You’re Thomas Dore, an’ ye seeketh fer
your royal brother, David, and your daughter,
Dora!"

The scowl did not leave the man’s face.

“Well, what it all you say.is true?" he do-
manded curtly.

 

. u

“A good deal to you mebbe. If you expect
to Win a respectable show in the game, you
orter to hitch outer the right feller as can help
ye to pull through. The fact is, Thomas, all
your talk when 1 first met you was bosh. Why
were you searching for Grncic?“

“ Gracie is Dora. Grace Dore.”

“ Ah. I see!”

“ \Vcll, you’ve cheek enough, that’s one fact,"
Dore retorted, still in ill humor. ” I am rather
averse to young men who cut their wisdom-
teeth a week after birth. They generally have
a superfluous sort of idea that they know more
than their elders.”

” And in many instances such is the fact of
the case!" Mike unblushingly declared. “I
don’t pretend to be the seventh of a seventh,
nor nothin‘ like that, but I generally know how
to relish a, square meal When I see it, or kick n.
square package lying on the sidewalk when I
want to let my toes know they are growing too
progressive.”

“ Well, go ahead and let me know how well
you are informed about my business, since you
claim it to be so much to my interest.”

“I’ll do it. I know that David Dore killed
you, or thought he did—killed your wife, an’
abducted your gal an’ your foster-son. On
comes your t’other brother, finds a Will lenvin’
him all yer collnt, which he appropriates like u
little man, and makes himself comfortably safe
from hein’ troubled by David, by oil’erin’ a. big
s'andin’ reward fer him. David don’t keer. He
hangs on ter yer progeny wi' an e e ter the
future. The aforesaid prod escapeth avid, and
the upshor of it is he turns up in New York,
business and blood in his eye."

Thomas Dora’s face grew inexpressihly stern
just then.

“]You are sure he is here?" he gritted, sav-
age v.

“Just assure as I am that Christmas comes
but once a year. I had the pleasure of seeing
him locked up in a police-station not over a
couple of hours ago."

“Hui Then take me there at once! For
many a year I have longed to confront him, the
accursed viper!”

“ Whoa n p, now! Don’t get excited! You’ve
grit1 to let me run this machine, or I kick at
one i.

“Go ahead, then. boy! Out with all you
have to say. Where is my child l”

“That's jest sum’thin’ I can’t perzactly tell
you, because I don’t know.”

He then went on to relute about how he had
heard the compact between David und Stephen
Dore; about his encounter with Ned Shields;
and about the abduction of Dora, the night be-
fore, which later had resulted in the arrest of
David Dore.

When the young detective had finished,
Thomas Dore seized his hand warmly.

“Young man, you are well worthy of your
small amount of self-conceit, and you’re one
after my liking. Uninvited you have taken hold
of a case of but little interest to the ordinary
detective, and develo ed much out of it. 1
heartily thank you. enceforth, we will work
together, hand in hand, but you shall have the
guide, for I believe your knowledge of city life

 

 

 

 

 

Mike, the Bowery betéctivet

 

yes you a great advantage over me. But no
 must be‘lost.” .
R" ' i- you be. A minute lost now 18 very
p .v ‘ . a mile. Before anvthimz can be done,
we mustnwait the arrival of the Chicago oflicer
with the requisition papers—that is, before any—
n can be done with David Dore.”

Thomas Dore smiled.
I “ Did you mention whose wife be murdered?”
" By Jove! I did not. That’s sufficient to
angling-it nothing else is preferred against

m. . v -
“Perhaps. yes. The best thing we can do is
hasten to the hearingl”
glanced at his watch.
You are right. We haven’t a minute to
para. After we get that arranged, we must
Mun our attention to your-other brother, Ste
r ’ Dom Inmay not be amiss to keep a light
all 115133 (minis movements, I reckon.”
.They hurried on at a brisk pace. .
Directly, Mike once more glanced at his

Something tells me we shall be too late 1" he
“ My watch was stopped when I looked at
'3, few moments ago. It is really later than I
hallway idea of.” ,» ‘ ,
the first 0 ity they ascertained the
3%,.m 'ft‘was nearly after the time

en ‘ ‘terial hearings usually commenced.
W n“ hey arrived at the room where the

. leewurt hearings took place, they learned
that. as no one was present to appear against
Dore, when his case was called, his hearing had
been poet ued one (is , and the Honorable
- orehadgone giahail in the sum of

H . ly u pointed,  two Searchers left the
court~room, and adjourned to a neighboring
Saloon to compare notes.

In ,
' fl Vail be too l’atee' -No doubt en
martian attempt will be made to spirit away
A our daughter, or kill her, as you must see that
avid will seek to esca with great haste, rc-
- diessof two thousan dollars’ hail, which is
i ,7er 3n insignificant sum, under such

" z. But, what Shallwe do.

.. V w

“Theeonly thinglseetoyhe done, is for you

gonna swear out a warrant for his re—arrest,

fining your authority and stating your rea-
sons for (Loin; no. A general alarm Will then

“Enhance done; then, at Mike’s, sug-
Wfiflgy madetheir way to the residenca of

Pornp'ey. the negro, servant, answered the
rm, and bowed polite] . _ '

Mr. Stephen Dore at me?" Mike asked.

_ mpot, sah." , ~ '

A , ’ on inform me wherel win he apt to

«if. be‘dene instantly!” Mike

 

“ No, sah.”

“ Does he ever hang around Wall street?”

" Dunno!” .

“ Is Miss Dore in, then?”

“ No, sah~nobody in, sub 1"

And bang! went the door, in the faces of the
callers. .

“Confound the imp of blackness. Fetch him
to the door again while i choke the gizzard out
of him!” Thomas Dore fumed.

“He’s mm est nowl” Mike said. “ We will
do Wall street, and maybe find Stephen there.”

They did go to ‘Wall street, and spent a couple
of hours there, looking into the “ pens” and
“dens” of the “ bulls” and “ bears,” but no-
where did they find Stephen Dore.

“ I fear we’re on the wron track,” Thomas
Dore said, in a. tone plainly tel ing that he was
discouraged. “ My poor daughter may be mur—
dered before we can get to her rescue.’

“We must not despair. We may run upon
the much-wanted clew before we have the least
expectation of so doing.”

And he was right.

They had not gone two blocks,‘ when they
suddenly Bob saw Driscoll and Ned Shields
coming down the opposite side of the street. "

“ 1n here,” Mike gritted, pulling Dore into
an ofllce area. “ The game is at last ours.”

CHAPTER XII. ,
THE TRAIL NARROWS DOWN.

DRISGOLL and his companion passed down
the street. ,

“ Where are they bound for?” Thomas Dor
demanded, glaring after them. "

“ That’s something I’m not just prepared to
tell—kit’s what we must find out,".Mike replied.
“Do you know that man who accompanies
Driscoll?” ‘

“ Not that I am aware of. Who is he?“ '

“ Your adopted son, of yore—Edward,
Shields!” - ‘ - ’
‘7‘ What? And he with Driscolll Then Drie-

coll is not false to me.” V
“ Don’t [you fool yourself ; Ned Shields is,
wanted out of the way nearly as much as you

are yourself, or your daugéhter, and I’ll bet a‘ , . i

new but against a Bowery at that he’s now be‘
ing”led- to the slaughter. There's work before
us. * ’ . “
“ You have told me that Ned possesses the
will. Although I still live, it may be necessary
for me to possess that.” r , '
_ “Right again. We must follow them, and
not lose track of them.
very careful they don’t scant pursuit, and throw
usofl! the trail.” , r ' ’
They tool; up the
behind Driscoll an his companion to prevent
the chase bemg'discovered. . ' A
It was a lougpursuit. '

'It really seemed that the renegade detecliye 5

—~‘for lie was really that—bWas trying to‘thmw'
pursuers of! the mail, for he changed the

course from one thoroughfare‘to mother, until 

it really, would have puzzled the wits of a sure
vevor to decide their ultimate destination. 4 «

They frequently, dropped» into saloons f ‘

’ “drink, and ‘erelong, by his unsteady gait

;}

 

We shall have. to be ' ‘ I

t .
ursuit, keeping far enough ,_ i '

,.
‘F
i

    
  

30 7 Mike, the Bowery Detective.

 

came evident that Ned Shields was feeling the
effects of his potutioiis——u fact which caused
Mike to remark:

“You see how reasonable is my opinion of
Driscoll, don’t you? He is getting Shields para-
lyzed| and no doubt will treat him to the same
dose that he did you.”

But little doubt now that Driscoll had some
evil intention in View.

Slowly but surely they were proceeding in a
northeasterly course, and hearing the Eist
River.

It now became noticeable that nearly every
saloon was visited, and that Shields was really
getting beastly drunk—so much so that Driscoll
had to take him by the arm.

“ The pnddin’ is gittin’ pretty near ripe enough
to dip!” Mike observed.

“ You are right. If that scoundrel pushes the
boy overboard, I’ll shoot him."

“No, you won’t!"

“ Why not, pray i”

“ Because in losing him we are losing the best
possible opportunity of findin’ Dora.”

“ Truc enough.”

“You bet! You j(‘St let the Bowery Detec-
tive manage the helm. If Driscoll ushes the
pigeon in, we’ll be there, and you‘l rush for-
ward to the rescue. I’ll keep gliln. Driscoll
will take leg bail for security. I’ll take the same
kind of bail, after him, and if I drop his trail
I’ll never trickle unothorone. After you get out
0!" the rescue. biz, you come to Thirty—Ninth
street and North River, and wait about the
vicinity until I join you.”

It was so settled.

The chose seemed nearing its end, as the pur-
sued app‘ onched the water~front.

Driscoll evidently had “ timed ” his arrange~
m°nts perfectly.

They soon went out upon a pier, where there
were no visible signs of business in the innue—
diate vicinity.

Fur below was to be seen the skeleton struc-
ture of the Brooklyn Bridge.

It was noontide, and a man could have
dropped into the river and drowned at that
particular point with but little possibility of any
one noticing the mishap or crime.

Driscoll was talking to his more than half-
stupefied companion as they advanced upon the

" whnrt.

What he was saying was apparent to his
pursucrs—hc was telling Shields that they would
row across the river.

As they neared the water’s edge, Driscoll gave
:1 Searching glance around; then suddenly
throwing his leg in front of Shields, he tripped
him, and sent him spinning headlong into the
fast-flowing tide, and instantly turning, skur-
rierl from the vicinity, like u frightened deer,
looking neither right nor left until he considered
himself out of danger.

He then slur-.kened his pace and gazed search-
ineg around him.

He was no longer in sight of thedock, and
he saw no one in pursuit of him.

So he resumed his journey at a reasonable
pace, looking back only now and then, and at
such times seeing no sign whatever of pursuit.
Yet like an avenging Nemesis, the Bowery

 

Detective was on his trail; surely and cautiously
he was dogging,r Driscoll to his den.

The latter, as Mike had surmised, was making
his way toward Thirty-ninth street and the
North River.

Here, then, or somewhere adjacent to the
vicinity, was Dora Dore concealed.

If he failed to find her, Mike was ready to de-
Clare that he would give up the profession.

The fair face and winning manners of the
young heiress had deeply impressed him. and
although he had no aspirations so hi h-niinded
as giving her more than a passing t ought, he
was eager to be instrumental in restoring her to
her rights.

The pursuit was kept up without discovery or
incident worthv of mention, until they were
near the North River.

Then greater caution became more impera—
tive; it was too risky for the young detective to
get near enough to the object of his pursuit to
be recognized, and therefore he had to keep at
a considerable distance behind.

Finally, when Driscoll was pretty close in the
vicinity of the river, he suddenly wheeled ab-
ruptly and looked steadily back.

Nothing 10th, Mike came steadily on, and
finally knew that his advance had lulled any
suspicions Driscoll may have entertained; for
he turned and entered a house near where ho
had halted.

Keen as those of n lynx, were the eyes of
Mike, and their gaze never left the doorway
where Driscoll had disappeared, until they had
marked out, beyond mistake, the exact location,
leading to the renegade‘s rendezvous.

It was adingy row of bricks, evidently ten-
ements, and occupied by a number of families,
although the house that Driscoll entered hnd
more the appearance of being tenantnhle for but
one family, as a defaced bill of “ To Let,” was
pasted on the door.

“That’s the place!" Mike muttered, “and it
now is but a matter of time ere I win. It's
wait, he watchful and patient!"

He did not approach nearer to the dwellingmia
Thirty—fourth Street, but retraced his footsteps,
a ways, and took up his position where he could
keep a distant eye upon the buildin , with little
danger of being particularly notice .

For over an hour he kept up his vigil, and
then, to his surprise, he saw no less a person
than Nora, the ex-peanut-vender approaching.

“ Oh! I‘m so glad to find you," she said. “I
know where Dora is concealed!" \

“Humph!” and he chucked her under the
chin. “ So do I. But how did you find out?”

“ I tracked Driscoll this morning.”

“ i tracked him awhile ago. I’ve been
shadowing here, since. Have you any idea
whether David Dore is down there or not?”

“ Don’t think he is. I’ve been spying around,
too, but I've seen no one come in or out, except
Driscoll, and u nnbob-looking mun awhile ngc.”

“ Ah! lhd he have gruy hair and beard?"

“ Yes!"

“That was Stephen Dore!” Mike mused un-
der his breath. Then aloud to Nora:

“ Has he come out, yet?”

(I No.”

“ Then we want to shadow that building with

   

 

 

 

Mike, the Bowery Detective.

' a

 

unceasin Ah! here come Thomas

‘ and Ned. ’

. It was even so. Thomas Dore and Edward
,Shields now came up, both wet; but as the
weather was warm, it mattered not.

Ned’s unceremonious ducking had thoroughly
dissipated the effects of all of the liquor he had
imbibed at Driscoll‘s expense, and he was “ right
side up with care,” once more.

After a. short chat, and mutual explanations,
it was agreed that all hands should keep a close
watch upon the den, where Dora was impris-
oned, and that no one should be permitted to
escape, without being arrested. ‘

The-first man to leave the house was Stephen

: Dore, and as he came up the street, Mike inter-
‘oepted him.

‘ ‘One moment, Mr. Dore,” he said, in firm

but respectful tones. “I shall be e torequcst
» you not to proceed further, just yet, without my

permission.”

“Indeed! Who are you?” was the haughty

. demand. ‘ v _

r .5} I, sir, am generally dubbed Detective Mike

aMiehael Maverick, at your service. I am a

detective, sir, and place you under arrest."
The rich man's taco puled somewhat.
“What d’ye mean?" he growled, frowning.
“ This is nonsense."
“Nothin of the sort, sir. When I tell you
that I over eat-d your conversation with your
brother, David yesterday, and that 1 know
i v ,thatDora. Donnie lm ri yonder, and that

.‘it-iadesigned to take or life to-night. you will
see how well I am posted. Mr. Dore, do you
want the world of New York to know of your
complicity in a murder?"

The proud man shuddered.

“ By Heaven! no!” he uttered, hoarsely.

“ Of course you don't. Perhaps there is a
possible loop-hole for you to escape. Out of
pity for 62m daughter, I may be able to spare
you.N 1’s, vid Dore down yonder?"

o. , v

vigilance.

t he is laying low,”
8 the girl there!”

5'
" i do not. I ex
“ He’d better.
“ She is."
“ Safe?”
" As far in. lknow. for the present.”
“ Driscoll is there?”
“ No. He slid out the back way, and has gone
in Search of David.” ‘
‘11s the Virl aIOnel”
“Yes. he is bound, and chloroformed, or
Hinged. .
“ Stephen Dore. tell the honest truth—don’t
 unburned of yourselt for having any
in! int this most infamous scheme?"
‘ "Dore looked guilty.
“You are right, 1 do. I cannot account for
m¥ strange weakness.” -
‘ Well, be that as it may, there are possibly
_ W0 chances for you. You see that man over
.yooi‘merl’:1 .

'f'l'hatés Thomas Dore 1"

 

  daughter; _

Will lyou give him up every cent that is his, if
he wi [allow you to leave New York, and avoid
the disgrace you deserve?” ’

For the moment the man hesitated, and then
answered:

“By Heaven, I will.”

“ Then await me here, until I find it Thomas
Dore agrees to the terms.”

Mike crossed the street, and had a long and
earnest conversation with Thomas Dore.

When he again returned be said:

" It is thus settled for your part. Thomas is
to get his rights, and you are to remain or go,
as you please, but there is never to be any tie
of relationship recognized between you hence-
forth and for all time."

Why write more in detail?

Dom Dore was promptly rescued from her
captivity, and a joyous reunion took placebo-
tween her and her {other and foster—brother.

Then, after setting the police to watch for
Driscoll and David Dore, Mike escorted Dora. to
the St. Nicholas, while Thomas Dore and Stephen
set out to effect a proper restoration of: rights;
and it was, as far as was ever known, satisfac-
torily settled.

At any rate, Thomas Dore got his money
back, with interest, and when a short time ,
after, Stephen Dore left, New York, accom- .'
pauied by his daughter, it was not as a poor
man. ,

‘ Tracy Travis turned out about as badly as the
average young man of his unscrupulous class:
gambled, drank, married twice in a month, and
had to suddenly disappear.

Two days after the settlement, among persons
who viewed two corpses that lay in the Morgue,

L were Stephen and Thomas Dore.

The unfortunates had been found drowned in

‘ North River, and were David Dore and Bob“

Driscoll. ,
Probably the two Dores were the only ones
who ever really knew their identity, and they, ‘
locked the secret in their own breasts. - « ‘
To say that Mike, the Bowery Detective, re—
ceived a’ substantial reward would be “ draw—
ing it mild,” for he could aflord to retire from '
the “perfish” and marry; and marry he dida-
Dora! . L 5
And Nora so captivated Ned Shields" that he
got over his unsteady habits, and ‘ ‘ 'ea shin“— .
ing light in business circles. ' I - 
It was afterward found out that David Done
and Tracy Travis were both connected in the,
heiress scheme as well as in a counterfeiting
business, to which the letters in Travis’s pocketw
book undenbtedly had reference.
I m' m;

..

 

 

BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY.

Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price 11f Five Cents.

 

Tl Frank Morten. Llw Buy llurrulos. Hy Oll Cnnmes.
. 72 The Yankee Range ll} 1‘] "n E

N; "lek Dlnu‘le “an m E

74 Dandy line H M

' 'hc Aral: Deteeth e.

“'1” W'ildllrtN l’lnek.

The Boy (hunnulnller. Ry I'm. Prentiss lngrnhnm.
. The .“anlue Ilanler. I$_\- Bum."

Dalnty Lanee; or. 'l'lw Mysm- \

The Buy Guhl-Illlnler.

The. fienpegrnee Sun.
‘ The Dark-Skin
3 .Iahen Dart, l).-
l» FentheI-weltzl

r- .
snmn. By J. E. Ihulgun
Hnrhungh.

.nm-u

ny Chm. .
uul Cu]. llnzeltine.

ed Sen-rt.

]
1
1
l
17
17
1'?
I?
1?
1:4
1s
1%
1s
1
a
P6
8
q
q
J

., the 13..y _ ,

. if "hum Bill, thn, (Iveflnml . l. l:_\' (‘uL l‘ru M Ingmhmn.

(v Dnlnty Lunec nlnl "if! I’m-ll. Hy .lmwph llllllger, Jr
'l

»l \Villutl.

)
T The ’lhuuwed 'I'Ig‘er \ My Chm-1m Mnllm.
P5 The \ e] t [In nlut. Detu llv Edward L. \vllwlx‘l'.
9 0141 line ‘M I 03%. 'v. .5. Hull.
0 Mm Slinpklnu, Smut. lluwx'n.
9| Dandy Rnek'u Rlval. , 'nhlu lsnnvne.
2 ‘ lllekory Harry. Br Hum
98 Detective Josh Gr-hn. By
I} Ifrul-I wet Pete, the “my Mlllv [Ev UH Cumin-n.
Do ’1 he ’ ‘enderl‘not 'l‘rnller. . . llur‘mmgh.
Hi The Dnndy Dch-etlve. _' . ~ lvrr .
)7 Roy, 1h.- Ymmg l‘nltlu King. _ I. Pn-nti
DH I'lhna'v Mn 1 Musk. lly anl'. lnnmnt.
Dr'tetzlive. liy T. Hm‘lmmrh.
By ('nyt. l n eriek \‘l'hithkfl.
By “'1”. R. E_\E LY.
292 'l‘om, the ' ' :ln 'l‘igcr. V Oll (Tnmlw:
, 20:; Sum [In-01ml: Day. r..- C
201 The, Yum”: Cowboy.
  

.i ' I to, . I: It Jug; or, llw _ [h' 'l'. 1'. llmbau ll.
20’? Kentuek 'l‘nllmt‘u Bum . By Capt. Mhrl.‘ Wilton. g
208 Tran per Tmn‘u llxutle M ynlery. ly Oll (human.
20!! The . lewenzer- Bey lleleeth’e. llv (‘hm- 1|an 5.
2“) The llnnehhnek of the Sllnex. By .hm-ph Dm’lzL-r, Jr.
2“ Little Glant und "In Band. By Philly S. Wnnm

2 The Jllntuwn Rpm-L. ny Edward 1.. Wheeler.

3 The l’lrnle'n l' lze. lly C. Dunning Clark.
4 Dandy Dave, nt' min. By T. C. Ilul'hnutzh.
ii Dnrlnz "an, the Rang. By (ll! Cum"
6 The (lnwhny ('anlnil ‘ t
7 Bald Head el'tlw R1
H ’l‘lu Mlner Sport.
-k the Del _
k-Slml l~‘ 15y Chm- .
le the .“l: . By Cm. l’renms Ingnlhnm.
2 lhuehnd Ben n Boys. Hylfllf‘lmnu’bl.
Ki Gull] Gum'ml‘n “Vat. r-Daus. liv 'l‘. (‘. Hnrhnngh.
l ll'rliky [“ergu‘d. Hu Yer}: Rm', RV G. L. All;
5 Dlok Drew. mu Miner n, 1 l'hlwm'ul L. Wln lcr.
96 Dakota Dlek In ()hlenxz'o. _ Morris.
Mel-1e, tin- Hey ('ruhzvr. ltndl. ['mma Iham.
28 The Preneher Detcetlve. ’4' OH (341an .
22.9 0111 lllelun‘y‘n GI I My Jnhn J. shnll.
230 Three Buy Hp Ry ('nnt. n-k Whittnher.
2. l Meren Sum. II By Em ml L. “'hw-ler.
2 Merle Mont. \ Hy Cnl. I’D-mm lngrnhum.
ZS [Km-Ry Run .nxlfzn C. l) Wnrrwn.
1 ' th‘ \ r ‘ . Br (fun! I (‘.
' Stu
a. D Slerl'n SI
2157 Newulmv l\ l
“nun-'9‘ Sea-S up “V
II "IL: "00)". lly Capt, Mark \\ ilttvn.
' 0 Nun-p Shunt Mlke. Hy (Ill Comma.
' I filerru Nun’s Sentence. 1y E4l\\'l|rll L. “'heelur
2 The Denver Deteetlve. ' C. lllu'hnugll.
2' 3 Duleh Jan‘u Dllennna. L. W. (Tm-gnu.
1 Merle Mun-tum Dlugu . l‘l'rl)tl~s lngmhnm.
linllly’n “my l’nrtner.  -l 3- Ellis.
2: ) Deteetlve lxeen‘n Annrenllee. Hy Charla-r4 Murrla.
7 The um upori. Hy Edward L. Vl'heeler.
R Glnnt (I‘r - I-ze’n l’urll. |}_\v anhsun
2- 9 Rune] . ’ “'Hd Rllle. lly T. (1.
250 Merle Mont 'n Pardon. lly Cu]. l’rwntisu lug
25! The Den(' Deteetlu liv l‘ (l Wilhrz,
252 Denver Dnll’u Derive. l.. “'heell-r.
251’» The Roy Tender-foot. \Vlllon.
254IHn1-kllllI-«Be .
255 Jul . .Ilm. Deter-live. ( s“:
.., ti Merle Mante’a Lu»! ('ra h (WI. Pl‘vlllisn [HL'l'nhnllh
257 The Buy (‘Illel'al'llm'ky I’: a. llv \lni. .l.. SIJ'rnin.
25K Deliver Doll an Deieetlve. lly E. L. VVIu-eler.
.rmln .‘x‘ny. llv ()El (Joanna.
lwnrrl \l'illett.

rge.
ml 1.. \Vhl-l-ln-r.

ln grnh 21m.

liHflHh-iHHI-hl-IHHHI-IHH

nliw Tngrnhnm.
ml L. \Vlll‘v'll'l’.

- By (,
lea.

N ‘ 'QNPDEI‘NHNWG

 

hum.

.259 Little Foxeye, the 4

200 Hklt, lhe 4: Mn Hey

261 Blade, n... Sport. hy r llnrhmuzh.

262 Billy, the, llny Rover. 3 nl. l’runtinn lnzrnhmn.

268 Hunter lloh’n Buoy; or, Ligc, the Light-Home Keeper.
By Cnp'. J. F. C. Avhuna.

364: Denver Doll’s Partner. By E. L. Wheeler.

4

KMNNIGRI:
I

155 lnmnn-u.

 

265 Billy, the Baggage Buy. By (‘hm-l -a Morris.
(iny'n Boy Chum. Dv l‘x'pt. Cnmst
~ (Hunt. Gear ve’n Revenge. My Hut (skin Sum.
Dead-Slim. nntly. liy Unl. I’mntiss lngrnhnm.
The Quartm'llle lions. By Ellwan Willutl.
Denver Doll’n Mlne. By E. L. \anuler.
lihnny Jlln'u Terror. llyUll Canines.
Klt, the (at! hum-tine. ll)  . Hurhuugh.
The, (Elrl Kldcr; or, Nimble Ned‘s Surprise.
Hmlunr, Jr.
Dead Shut Dandy"! Double. By Cu}. P. lngrnhnm.
Fred. the Ocean Wait. My (‘hnrles Murris. ' _
Deadwood DIck Trapped. By Ethllnl L. “healer.
The hllot Boy Avenger. lh’Alln'rt W. Aihen.
Arlznnn Alf, the Miller. B} . .llm-bungh.
(‘nlerlulo Jack. the Tiger. Bv Frederick Dewey.
Deml Shot Dnndy’s Last Dcnl. By Co]. I'. Ingmhnm.
Ned, the Boy l’llqt. Bv Junk Fnrmgnt.
Burk Hawk, Detl-r-tlve. y Edward L. Wheeler. '
Roving Sport. Kit. By Edward W'illatt.
L The Showman"! Best. Curd. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
" Dld lhreky’fl Find. By BucknhluSmn.
luck, the Dnlmta Spurt. By Charles )Iurrls.
Ned, the hey Ski vnnr. By Jack l"nrmunt. .
Deadwood DIeli‘n lungnlae. llv Edward L. Wheeler.
2H9 (‘olnrudo Nick, the Lnxgsnisl. ll} ll. 1%. Slmldnrrl.
290 Rube, the ’l‘emlcrfoot. By Mnj L.  \ mm.
291 l’enenek Pete, the Lcndvlllp S nrt. By Albert W. Aiken.
292 Jae Morey, the NI vhf. Hnwk. 1y Jon. E. Badger, Jr.
293 Dwurl’ Jake, the )etcctlve. By Ed. “'illett.
294 Dumb Dick’s l’urd. By Edward L. Wheeler.
29") “'hlte “'lng‘, the Ferret Flyer. By (‘Imrlea Mnrrls.
296 Govlndu, the TchY Tamer. By Capt. F. Whittnkeh
297 Arlznnn Glant George. Bv Buckskin Sam.
21W Dnlay Dnll'n Danh. lly T. C l‘lurbmluh.
299 The Dulleun Deleetlveu. By ll -EnMn.
800 Deadwood Dlek‘n Min-don. I mm! L. Whaler.
801 Dnntl ' Duke, the nvhnv. By h L. St. Vrnin.
802 Big I enuon’s Bet. 13y T» C- 11M “21- _
308 The llolel Boy Deteetlve. 1})" lurlus Mums.
304 Bald Hand’s l’nrd. Dy lluckrkmSum.
805 Dnnky Dick’s Duel. By Hurry llnmnl.
30“ S otter Fritz. By Edwnrd L. “’hm-her.
1:07 l lek, the Boy 5 ort. By Mnjm E. L. St. Vrnin.
303 DunIbIc-Flnted . at. By .105. E. Badger. Jr.
809 Did Greyheard’s Roy B): C. Dunning: (flunk.
SID Klt, the Glrl (‘nptn By Cn'l. Pmntm lngmhnnl.
81‘ Frlo Fred In Tenn. 3' llucknkm Sun). Y
2 The Detective. Ilmul-.\gen 1h- IC: L. Wheeler.
13 "one-t Jnek’s l’rntege. B P. S. \Vnrue.
4 Clip, the Boy Kherltl'. By
5 Tom, the Arizona Sport.
6 The Street-Arab Deteetlve.
7 Blleklkln Den of Texan. By Hue n Sam.
[H (‘olnrndo Charlie’s Detective Bank. 83 E. L. Wheeler.
I9 l’rlnky Frank in Idnho. rvzer Starlnlck.
20 (‘onl Hanl’n Glrl l’nrd. _ (‘. llwrb null.
: l Dllly. the Kid from Frlxl 15;: J. C. Cuu'drii‘k.
‘5 Fred F!ycr, Detective. By C .
Bi 3 Dead Shot. Ike ln Monmnu
. 1- Kit, the Denver Knox-l. By .
32 ) Dnnky Darrell, the (‘ a D . n Enmnon.
‘ Rev, the Roy (Trill-Aer. B3 ahnm.
\‘ell the Roving: Miner. By Hurry ['luznrd.
8 “(belly Ben’n Band. ‘ y W. .. llxunillnn.
9 Dave, the Colorado \Vrexl'er. Bv Maj. E. L. St V'rnin.
0 The Denver Sport’n Rat-Rel. By Edmurd L. Wheeler.
‘ I The ('(Nl'll Deteellvc. llvllvger ‘ lrur .
2 Dnan Dan In (‘all ' Hy l'hllip S, Warne,
3‘ 8 Boulhlaek lien, thu ll_\'1\nlhnny l’. Alums.
-'l Frlneo Tom on Deek. lly (:K'HI'LH‘ llvnvy Morse.
5 “en Bandy, the Buss l’nnl. By J. Stnnlm' Henderson.
6 Fred. the Spun, In Brlmntonc Bnr Camp; or,
The Boston “'restler’s Confudernle. ‘d L. Vl’hee r.
7 Duly-y Dave, the Colorado Gnloot' B ~ :I‘. C. Hnrhmmh.
The Gold Bar Detective. th J‘Ul‘ 17.1. at. Vrain.
I) Rardo the Boy Gypn_ . me. .. at... .
0 Billy l, nhhle’n B] S ' By Charles Morris.
3 l Colnrn-lo Stcvc’n ll ' Philip S. ane.
- 2 ‘ 'hul, Sum. Sam.
M lke. t I0 Bmvery De, (Ive. By Etlwnrrl L. Wheeler.
The Drummer Rpm-1,. Ily Ellwfll‘ll Willctt.
Jacques, the, llmxllmn nun-mm. By .1. C. Cowdrlck.
Joe. Hw t'hicugn Arnlu. By Charles Mu rla.
.“ltltl \' ll('l'lM*l‘I.‘I l'I-lze. Hy (Iol. l‘rentin lngrnhnm.
' filmrp-h'houter Frnnk. 5y lhlclmklll Sum.
‘ mulwr lII.
Miner. By Mnj. 15. L. St. Vrnin.
Really September 17.
Beadle’u Pocket Llhrnry Is for 5:19 by All Newsdcnlen, five
cent: per copy, or rent by mall on racelpt 0! alx cent! each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pnhllaherl,
98 William Street, New York.

:1:
:aaa
:x’ a

' ENGINH

uu—:

h) *1’4'1

By Jul. E.

.1 a») a.) .1

By Mnjnr F 1.: St. Vmin.
By ('J l'l Inn-is.

0:2":3

nausea