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Copyrigh‘ed, 1891, by BIADLI AND Anna. En‘ered as Second Clan Matter at. the New York. N. Y.. P0“ Otfice. June 24. 189].

 

 

N0I  $2.50 Published Weekly by Beadle and Adams, F l‘rlt-c.  

n ‘ W" N0. 98 WXLIJAM ST. New YORK. 1"“ 0'3"“-

NEW YORK BILL, THE DOD ER.

BY EDWARD WILLETT.

 

 

 

THROUGH A BROKEN wmnow, LOOKED our AT THE sunny NIGHT
‘ARE YOU ALIVE, SIM?" BE CALLED our.

 

 
 

I Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head.

 

  ! New York Bill,

THE D ODGE R;
, OB,
Two Boy: Who Were ‘Bounced.’

BY EDWARD WILI ETT,
Amos. or ‘wma-AWAKE amends, Tm: nor
PIONEER,” 1:10., is. 0.

CHAPTER I.
A one? AND A SMASH.

ADDY of fifteen was napping it in the emi-
grant car of a. railway train that was speeding
across the State of Illinois.

He was not at all an ill-looking young fellow,
> , n he slept there, with his head uneasily reclin-

ing in a corner, and his mouth wide open. He

had ht hair and a clear complexion, and did"

not loo as if he had been extravagantly fed.

‘Eis clothes, common in quality, were rusty and

' worn:

-Suddenly he awoke, startled out of his sleep
by some bad dream or a severe jolting of the
car. Then it could be seen by the dim lighhof
the railway lamp. that he had a bright face,
and was quick and alert in his motions.

“ Where’s .Uncle Amos?" he muttered, as he

v rubbed his eyes and looked at the empty seat by
. his side. ,

, He got up and went through the car, ering

closely at all the men who were we 9 and

asleep. Then he came back, 100 ing rather

disconsolaie. ‘ . I

' “ I’d like to know what has become of Uncle
' Amos," he said as he resumed his seat.

A boy stepped up and took the empty seat at

. his side. He seemed to be somewhat o der than
the lad who had lost his “Uncle Amos,” r-
:lahps a year or so older. At least, he ha an
or look on his face. Hls clothes were ragged,

and his general appearance was that of a street

v bond. But he had a pleasant face, in spite

of is snub nose, and he spoke kindly to the

youn or y.
. M“ Vgas you lookin’ fur the man who set here!”
.3: ~ .
,H Y, M 2
Yes, replied the other, and I can is find

   
   
  
   
     
   
   
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
   
   
    
     
      
       
   
          
    
       
       
         
       
     
     
        
      
         

‘ “ ‘ ash you won’t see him no more.”
' \ “ hat do you mean by that?"
_ V V. “I heerd him tell my man, a while ago, that
' he was goin’ to drop dyon, and he got at a sta-
, .tioo or two back, an he didn’t git on ag’in. I
guess you’re dropped? p - I
“ Drop me!” exclaimed the bereaved boy.
-' “Dre, me! I reckon he had better look out
what e’s droppin’. Itl’d known he had any
such notion as that, I’d ha’ dropped him mighty.

den. ~
, “’Bfed'o' that, he got the drop on you. Is he
s I ’yonr dad?”
’ “No: he is my Uncle Amos. Retold me
that he had got tired of keepin’ me, and was
- ’ in’to take me West. to m Uncle Ephr’im. >
we started, and here I am. ’
“He told my'man that be guessed he had

  

1L

. r

I go_ 1)

 

' Illinois. and on have
. slip. You "—jurning to im—‘ I 5in e to he in

took you about tar enou h, and’ would go back
and let you slide on. e said that my man
might have you if he wanted; but my man
laughed and said he’d get boys enough to ’tend
to. What‘s your name, bub?"

“ Sim Brattle, and I came from C’natta.
What’s voursi” ‘ '

‘9 Bill Yards.”

“That’s a jolly queer name." ~

“Yes; it makes a teller think of Bill Pool,
who was shot.” 

“Was your daddy called Front Yards, or
Back Yards?"

“ I guess he must ha’ been called Stock Yards
as he was a butcher. But he's dead long ago,
andI don’t belong to nobody. I was took up in
New York by some sort of a 'ciety. and they
sent a. lot of us boys West to grow up with the
country. They meant to play me 01! on the
farmers. as if the farmers don’t have a hard
enough time! But, I dropped my man where
your uncle drofiped you. I got ed the train
with him and t 9 rest of the boys, but sneaked
around the car, and jumped on ag’in, jist as it
started. I guess my man ain’t frettin his life
out ahout it though." .

“ What’s his name?" added Sim Brattle.

“His name is Quigg. and he’s a pig."

“ That’s a rhyme. What’s his business?”

“ He said it was Phil—that’s the fast name.
The second was a woman’s name—yes, it was
Ann g—Phil Ann—the rest of it was Dutch, I
guess.”

“You Jon’t mean 'to say, Bill, that 116 W"
a philanthropist?” ‘

' l‘hat's the name. Ain’t it a Whopper?"

It’s luck that you dropped him. I have
b 1rd that those chaps are mighty rough with
b' ys when they git their clamps on them.
V here are you goin’ new?"

“ As far as these cars will carry me." ’

“ What will you do when you git there?’

“If we fetch up in St. Louis, as I guess we
* ill, I can find shoes to black and papers to sell
; st the same as in New York.”

“But I don’t know how to black shoes and
sell papers,” demurred Sim. ‘ I

“ Oh, it’s easy enough to learn. I-ll put you
up to all the dodges.” »

“ I will go with you, then, Bill, as far {1' 3°“

On this point the conductor had somethxnsg‘to
y. He soon passed through the car, and a ed
the two he s for their tickets._ As they had
none, they 3 d blankly at him and at each
other. a .

But the must show their tickets, the can-
ductor tol them, or pay their fare. '

Sim Brattle explained that he had been with
his uncle. who had got off the train. leaymg
him aboard. Bill declared that he had been in
charge of .1 man who had similarly disap

“ I see how it is,” said the conductor. " on”—
addressing himself to Bill-e“ were with those
five boys who were brought from New York to
"van our party the

the same kind of a scrape. - Isnppose ought to

' azimu- fares was paid once.” declared Bill.

./

 

I senduyou back; but you may goon as far as you ;
P

ii
at,
,3:

,3... 42;?» 1;.

 

.. . —......___..__.' ‘.

Atk:‘& A-,‘ -f‘,

g

“Where to! Not as far as this, I’ll be bound.
You must shell out, youngsters, or I shall drop
you at the next st'i tion."

They jammed their hands into their empty
pockets, and the conductor went on.

“This drop game is gittin’ played onto us a
leetle too often," protested Bill.

s_“ What will we do when he drop: us?” asked
um.

“ Dunno yet. Somethin’ will happen, of
course- so we’ll wait fer the fun.”

The ‘fun ” came all too soon. Almost as he
spoke there was an unusually heavy jolt, that
startled the whole train; then a noise of some-
thing cracking and breaking, and then a. re pid
thumping of car wheels over ties, all mingled
with shouts and screams from the forward

cars.
_ “ Hold on, Sim l” warned Bill. “ The breechin’
is broke, sure’s you’re a sinncrl”

Then the car the boys were in followed the
others down a. stce embankment, rolling over
twice before it rose ed the bottom.

The darkness, the crash of breaking glass and
wood and iron, and the general wreck and
whirl, in which everythinrr movable, themselves
included, was dashed and tumbled about, left
the two lads nearly out of their wits when the
bottom of the embankment was reached.

Bill Yards was the first to move and feel about
him. The car, broken in the middle and with
its trucks gone, had finally rested on the remains
of its floor, and Bill, utting his head through
I broken window, loo ed out at the starry night.

“ Are you alive, Sim l” he called out. .

“ Yes, but mighty close squeezed. Can you
git out?”

“ Eas as rollin' oil’ a log."

“ Roi otf, then, and I’ll foller as soon as I can
git my foot loose."

In nfew minutes the boys were free from the
car, and standing by the wreck, shaking their
legs and feeling of their bruised bodies.

“ Anythin' bu’stedl” asked Bill.

“ No; but I feel as though I’d been through a
board mill."

“ And I feel as if I’d tackled a thrashin’ ma-
chine.” '

 There’s plenty wuss ofl than us, though,

I .

No doubt of that. The en ine, baggage-car
and three passenger-cars were uddled together
at the bottom of‘the ravine, a smoking mass of
ruins, from which came cries of pain and pita-
ous appeals for he] . The car next to them be-
gan to blaze, and t ey hurried toward the light.

Agonizing cries came from a point of wreckage
near the blame, and Sim Brattle jumped up on
the broken car that was lying on its side, and
looked in at the shattered window. There he
saw the face of a woman, distorted by fear and

pa 1:.

“ Help l” she shouted. " The car is on fire,
and we will soon be burned to death 1”

“ Fetch a rock, Billl” shouted the lad.

Bill Yards brought a heavy stone, and
climbed up to his friend, who cleared the broken
glass from the window and reached down.

“ Take out my child ti" bogged the woman
and film then new the face of a girl, which he
been hidden from him hr the shadow.

 

Smart Sim. the Lad with the Level Head. 3

"All right, missis," he said. “We’ll do our
best. See if you can fetch her a shove, down
there.”

The “child” proved to be a nearly grown girl,
and it was pretty hard tugging for the boys to
pull her out of the empty car; but they suc-
ceeded, and landed her on the ground, where
she seemed to be safe and sound.

Then they turned their attention to tho wo-
man, but this was a more difllcult matter, as she
was jammed in by the wreckage, and the open-
ing was not large enough to allow them to get
at her.

But the fire was burning briskly, and there
was no time to be lost.

Bill Yards seized the stone, and smashed in
the partition between two windows, and his
companion jumped dOWn into the mass of tan-
gled seats and broken timber.

Bidding the imprisoned women wait a mo-
ment, he worked his way toward the mlvunein
fire. and in spite of the llo‘li} broke off a bit 0
blazing wood, by the light of which he exam-
ined her position.

Perceiving that she was fastened down by a
broken scat, he Eulled it away exerting all his
strength, and s e was free; hut she “as still
unable to move, and said that she feared her leg
was broken.

Sim told his friend to bring the girl to help,
and she was lifted to the side of the car.

Then, with one to lift and two to pull, the
woman, who was not very heavy nor entirely
helpless, was got out of the car, and Sim Brat-
tle followed her, just as the flames broke out
behind him.

After considerable diilleulti they carried her
away from danger, and laid er safely on the
turf, out of the reach of the burning wreck.

Then they saw that she was a handsome
young-looking woman, with a pale and patith
face, pluiuly but neatly dressed. The “ child "
had even more than her mother’s beauty, and
her clear complexion, hug: blue (39s, and
bright golden hair showed good a vantage
in the starlight.

“ That was a close call, missis,” said Bill
Yards.

“ We owe our lives to you," re lied the suffer-
ing woman, “and I will never orget the debt,
though I am not able to pay it. What is your
name?”

“ Bill Yards, ma'am.”

“ And yours, my young friend?"

“ Sim Brattle.”

“I am Mrs. Amos, and this is my daughter

‘Amy. I shall never forget your names, and I

hope I may meet you again, and prove to you
that you are not forgotten.”

“That’s all right, ma’am. Now, we must go
and see if there’s anythin’ more we can do.”

As they turned to go the girl Amy seized
Sim’s hand. raised it to her lips, and kissed it,
while her tears rained upon it.

 

CHAPTER IL
AN ORPHAN ron woman.

THERE was plenty to be done, but by this
time there were many people doinx it Those

 

r.

  

L

Smart Sin, the Lad’with the Level Head.

 

who had not been injured had hastened to assist 
those who were confined in the wrecked 'and ‘,
burning train. Ill news flies swiftly, and people
had hurried to the spot from the surrounding
country, with lanterns and tools. The hlazin
ears also furnished light and everybody we‘rke
with a will, and soon ail was done that con d be
done by those on the s t.

On the ground were aid a number of mangled
victims of the collision, some of them Screaming,
others groaning, and others enduring their ain
in silence. Elsewhere lay several others, 51 out
and motionless, who would never scream, or
groan, or feel ain any more. ‘

As the two ads moved about the wreck, Sim
Brattle picked up a medium-sized black sachel,

' of thick leather and very heav .

At the same time they hear an old man, in a
group just ahead of them, crying over a loss.

“It was a black sachel,” he said, “pretty
heavy, but of no .value to anybody but the
owner, and I will ve a fine reward for it. Oh,
it can’t have been urnedl” ,/

“What sort of a sachel was yours. mister?"
asked Sim, concealing his find behind him as he
ate ped forward.

be old man described it, and the boy handed
it over to him. He seized it on gerlv, and at once
examined it, to make sure that it had not been
opened.

“ Heaven will bless you, my young friend,”
he said.
castings, but they are useful to me.
my place-Cornelius Corum,
Second street, St. Louis, and you shall have a
fine reward.” z

“ There was money in that sachel and we
may whistle for, a reward,” muttered Sim, as
the old man hobbled away, hugging the sachel
under his arm.

Intelligence of the disaster had been flashed
over the wires, and soon a train reached the
wreck, bringing physicians, stretchers, blankets
bandages, and other help for the wounded. All
were got on board, including the dead, and the
train slowly moved-toward the nearest station
at which the wounded could be attended to. v

The two lads helped themselves to a comfort-
able seat in a first-class car. and were not again
asked: for their tickets. It was sufllcient that
they were survivors of the disaster. .

“ Mighty lively time, that,” remarked Sim.

“ It wasn’t nothin’ shorter,” replied Bill.
“But that conductor got cheated out of a
chance to dro us. I sa , Sim what a Pretty
girl it was the we pulle out of the car.’

“ Pratt l” exclaimed Sim. “ She was just
lovely. at asweet name, too—Amy Amesl”

“ Yes; I mean to remember that name. ”

“ You may bet your last button that I won’t

for}? it. _
‘ ou didn’t make much of a spec, Sim, out
of that old man and his sachel.”

" The darned skiuflintl I am sure there was
money in that sachel, and he didn’t give us a
cent.’ -

i“%e said he would give you a fine reward,

“Ye he said so; but the cash down would

“ There is nothing in it but some iron .
Come to I
No. — North -

 

ha’sui mebetter. Imam to remember his
, ‘, /

lace in St. Louis, and we may worryhim some
fore we’re through with him."

“ Tell you what, Sim, I give in that I’ve been
sorter ‘picked up in you. I took you fur a
greeny at rust; but I guess your head is about
as level as a railroad track.’

“ I ho a it is, Bill.
need to lave about this time."

After various rlolrivs the train rolled into the
Union Depot at St. Louis at a late hour in the
morning. News of the disaster had receded
it, and newspaper reporters were ready to re«
ceive the surviving p'lsseugers.

“ Say, mister, ain't you goin’ to interview
us?” asked Bill, stepping up to a young man
who carried a note-book

“ Were you on the wrecked train? Give me
your names, then.”

“Mine is Willyum Yards, Esquire, of New
York.”

“Mine is Sim Brattle, Esquire, of C’natta.”

“All right,” said the reporter.

“ Ain’t you goin’ to interview us, mister?" de-
manded Bill. -

“I believe I will let you 03 this time.”

"-Go ahead, then. smarty, and buzz the big
boys who don’t know nothin‘. Say, Sim, what
are we ’goin’ to do for breakfuss? I’vegot plenty
0’ brass, but not a speck 0’ tin.”

“You’re welcome to what I’ve got, as long as
it lasts," replied Sim. “But we don’t have to
spend money for fodder jest yit. Come along 1”

He marched up to a railway official, to whom
he told a pitiful tale of the misfortunes and
losses of himself and his friend on the wrecked
train, and received an order on a neighboring
restaurnnt where the two lads breakfasted
sumntuously.
. “ Now we will even up,” said Sim, when they

could eat no more, and he divided with his friend

a small stock of silver and (toppers.

“ What are you ’goiu’ to do now?” asked Bill.

“ I mean to take in this town. and see if I'd
care to buy it.” '

“I feel as if Iowned it a’ready, after that
breakfuss. I guess 1 will go down on ’Change
and look inter the blackin’ and paper sellin’ busi-
ness.

“ I will look around among the airystuckup—
racy. Perhaps I may light on some rich old chap
who wants to adopt a norfln. Where shall we
meet, Bill?"

“I guess this is as good a place as any. Six
o’cloc this evenin’.”

“Kerectl I will consult my cornometer.”

“Oh, git out! You put on more airs than a
dandy darky at a cake walkfl

Sim. Brattle did not take a Course that would
lead him to the business portion of the cit , but
turned toward the south, and soon foun him-
solt m a broad street that Was lined with elegant
residences.

After wandering about in this region until he

gan to believe that he was wasting time and

hoe leather, he turned back.

He soon perceived that he was followed by a
man whom he had seen looking at him sharply,
and he loitered along, to give this shadow a
chance to go by.

.The man passedhinh but turnedatterml

O

Level heads are what we 7

 

A. .“h; 



 

: savezeflvfi

s.- .1-

(5.

ES! arran- Earn

’ s.

 

 

 

Smart Sim. the Lad with the Level Bend. Blh'

 

few steps, and faced him. Sim then noticed

that he was a small, slim, middleaged man,well
dressed, and with a dried-up agpearanco that
made him look much older than e was.

His actions were singular; but it was broad
daylight in a public street, and the lad felt that
he need not be afraid of any little, withered old
man.

“ Say, mister," said Sim, “ you lookasif you’d
lost somebody. Maybe l’m t is party."

“Perhaps you are,” replied the man, with a.
grin that wrinkled up his withered face. “Do
you belong in St. Louis?”

“ Not ’yet, anyhow. I’ve just got In from
C’nstta.’ . .

“ From wherei’?

“ From C’natta. Don’t you know C’nattai
Big hog town—the Paris of Ameriky."

‘ Oh, Cincinnati. That is a fine city. Have
you any relations or friends here?” , v
“ I haiu’t got nobody nor nothiu’, except one
ardner, who came on the train with me, and
0’s a young gen’leman from N ow York.”

The old gentleman rubbed his hands, and
puckered up his face with another grin.

“ So nobody knows you here,” he said. “Ah!
that is quite satisfactory. You wonder why I
take such an interest in you, my young friend.
The truth is that you look remarkably like a
boy I once knew, who was Very near and dear
to me. Indeed you are his exact image, and I
could not hel looking at you and speaking to
you. You w 11 do me a great favor if on will

0 with me to my home, which is not ar from
er! and let me present you to my wife, who
willhe Very glad to see you." \-

Si‘m Brattle reflected. He was almost con-

‘vinced that he had found the rich old gentleman

who wanted to adopt an orphan. This was just
the chance he had been looking for; but the end-
denness of it u 1: him, and he paused, as he
would have sai , to let his head settle.

“ You need not be afraid of me," said the old
man. . “I am Augustus Amos, well known here,
and I live in a. fine house of my own on Chou-
teau avenue. I have no wish to harm you.”

“ I ain’t a bit scared.” replied Sim—“ make
no mistake about that. I say, though, mister,
you ain’t a philanthroflst are‘you'!”

“ Alfhilanthro isti O , no; it is as much as

I can 0 to atten to my own business.”

du‘];YP?u’re my style, then. Lead on, my noble
e .

 

CHAPTER III.
A caoom rmnssc'non.

Mn. Auous'ms Asmst spoken the truth
about his residence. H stopped" at an elegant
house. led the led up the high and broad steps,
andopened the door with a latch-key. ‘-

Slm Brattle stored as he entered t e 3 clone
hall, and opened his eyes at wider w on he
was conducted through a en to of parlors richly‘
furnished into a room that was lined with book-
cases mall with books in costly bin

Here he was seated in a cushioned -chair,
and Mr. Amos requested him to remain a few

"minutes, until Mrs. Amos could be informed of

“$333: 1’ ' H n
worry about ruei old gen'lemsn, ro-~

M812}: “ 1h

 

 

Mr. Amos went out, but soon returned, fol-
lowed by a lady who seemed to be considerably ,
younger than be, but who was so large and fat
that she was a strange contrast to her dried—up
little husband. Her hair was black, and her
face was very red, and she wore a suit of heavy
and showy satin.

“Julia, my love,” said Mr. Amos, as his wife
settled down upon a sofa, “this is the boy
whom Providence has sent to us. Is he not the \,
exact image of our dear Arthur?" ‘

“ He is very dirty,” replied the lady, looking
at him closely;

This remar put Sim on his mettle.

“I guess you’d be dirty, too," said be, “if
you’d been tumbled down a steep bank, and
smashed up in a railroad train like I was last
night. The boy that stood on the burning deck
wasn’t a patchin’ to that.” ,

“ ere you in that fearful disaster?” she ‘ "
asked. -

“ You just bet your breastpin that I was.”

‘f You are right, Augustus. This boy is
strlilkijng’l'y like our dear Arthur. I think he
w: o. ‘

“ Of course he will do," said Mr. Angus. “ The
resemblance is nearly perfect. He Will have, to ,
do, anyhow,” it is neck or nothing w.th us '
now.’ ,

Sim Brattle was curious to know what all
this meant. ‘

“What’s the mixi” he asked. “ Have I
turned out to be anybody’s long lost son? Do I
need toflnd a strawberry mark upon my left

arm?” ,
“ He’s sha enough, J ulia,” said Mr. Amen. *
Decidedl I t ink he will do.” ‘

“You ad better explain to the boy what is '
wanted of him, then,” suggested his wife. '

“Is that necessary? I thought we might use ‘
him to: this purpose without telling any
secrets.

“ I judge that it will not be worth your while
to tr, any foolin with him." ‘ I
“Jory well, ulia; I rely upon your. judg:

ment. at is your name, my young friend _

“Sim Brattle.” v l ‘

“ The fact is. Sim, that we want you to take
the place of a dear young friend of ours who is ,
absent. He is far away, so far that he cannot _
get back here in time to be present in some pro- _ f
ceedings thatmust take place tomorrow.”

“Sonof yours?” asked Sim, jerking a quick
glance at the speaker.

“ Not exactly. I
guardians—that is, I am his guardian—and we
must produce him in court tomorrow—before,

a referee, I should say—to settle a little matter
or business.” . . > i -

“ Fur to draw money on him?” in aired Sink. -

“Dearmel what a sharp boy! at exactly 7
to draw money on him, but; to settle the’
amount of the yearly allowance that I am to
receiye and lay out upon him until hell 0!.

e. ,  ‘
.3“ That’s all solid,” remarked Sim, and be six
once began to wonder how much that allow‘
sues would and how he could make sure v
that it would he Spent nponhim. As Mr. 
Ames and his wife where whispering together, ,
he began to speculate upon another I

The fact is that we are his , i; .

   

   
   

 

 

‘ my young friend ” said Mr.

' stock in mere matters of form.
‘ somethin’ solid in this racket, count me out."

" x'.

 

>4,"_av_ : :1' ~-.- h, u...”  1‘ h

Smart Sim. the Lad

what had become of the boy whose place he
was to take?
“ Is be far away that boy i” he asked.
“Very far,” rep ied Mr. Ames.
“ Sure he Won’t be back soon?”
“ Oh, I am uite sure of that."
“Had any otters from him since he’s been
one?"
“None lately.”
’ “ Maybe he s where they don’t have any
postrc'ilices. It would be a pity if he’s dead.”
“ That isa int that doesn’t concern you,
Amos. “ You
must understand that your appearance in place
of our dear Arthur is merely a matter of form.”
“Is it that kind of a deal?” remarked Sim,
rising, and picking up his hat. “Then I pass
out.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Mr.
Ames, and his yellow face turned yellower.

“Imesn to 'say that I don’t take a. bit of
If there ain’t

“ Oh, you shall be paid for your trouble, and
well paid. ,Sit down, my young friend, and
make yourself easy. You will find that the
business is solid enough, as far as you are con-
cerned. Of course it is confidential. Do you
know what confidential means?”

“ Ya es—I guess it means clocked.”

“It means nothing of the kind. It means
that you, must keep a still tongue in your head
-that you must tell nobody.”

“Maybe it comes to the same thing,” sug-

I gested Sim.

Mrs. Ames shook her head, as if to intimate
that this boy was too sharp, and might do a
little too Well.

“ The first thing to be done,” said Mr. Ames,
“is to fit you out with a fine suit of clothes,

‘ and I will take you out directly and buy them
" “r you.”

“ Sim’s eyes kled. There was something

3 “ solid ’1.in a. uni of clothes.

" That ain’t the tust thing though,” he said.

" What is the first, then? ’

“I’m hungry."

“Of course you shall have your dinner, and

I a both too, as you need one badly, and we have

no time to lose.”

Sim Brattle bathed luxuriously, and dined
sumptuousl . When he had eaten as much as he
could hold, 9 mentally resolved that the lace

in which he found himself was a good ace,

and thdt if he was as sh as he suppose him-
self to be, he wouldsta t ere.
. ' “I am just in the ght fix nova/mister, to
fit into a suiirot new clothes,” he said.

“ Come with me, then, and you shall soon be

  Remember that your name is now

bur Amen”
“ Not yet, mister,” replied Sim.

 “Wh so?”

“ Whgn I git inside of Arthur Ames’s clothes,

 

‘ I will he Arthur Amen. As ion as I am wear-

ing Sim, Brsttle’s clothes, will be Sim
Battle."

Mr. Ameslooked at the lad as if he was dis-

', good to doubt, as his wife had, whether this

Infill: not prove to be a little toosharp. l
t wutskentosclothin‘store.where-

with the Level field.

he was fitted with a complete suit, ready made,
but quite stylish, and it seemed to h m that
there was but one thing needed to make him a
first class young entleman.

“I would be el right now," he said. “ if I had
some money to jinglein my pocket. ”

Mr. Amos gave him some silver change, and
soul that it was time to go home.

“ I’ve got a little bit of business to attend to
first,” he said. “ I romised to meet a friend of
mine at the Union epot at six o’clock.”

“ What friend?" asked Mr. Amos, looking at
him suspiciously. “You told me that you had
no friends here."

“ Only my pardner, Bill Yards, who was on
the train with mo last night.”

“ I don’t see that you need to meet him
now.”

“But I promised to, and I can’t go back on
my promise."

“ h!- Well, Arthur, I am glad to see that

on are inclined to keep your promises, and I

opp you will always keep them. Go and see
your friend, but make a quick job of it, and be
sure that you say not a word about me or the
matters we have talked of."

“All right, sir. I'm fly. Anybody who tries
to catch Arthur Ames for a sucker, will be
likely to loso a hook.”

Bill Yards, returning to the Union Depot at
six o’clock, with a boothlack’s outfit hungin on
his arm, saw nothing of his friend Sim. ut
he did see a stylish young fellow suunteriug
about there, wearing a new suit of clothes that
did not seem to have become entirely familiar
with his form. 2‘

“There’s a young swell, now,” said Bill,
“ who is puttin’ on more airs than a tree-toad in
a cherry orchard, and I mean to tackle him for
3'shir’i’e. Bet hell he tool enough togimmea

ime. . __

“ Shine, sir‘l‘ Shine ’em up! See your race in
’em for ten cents." ' ' ,
The young swell turned on his. heel contempt-
uously. ,. ‘

“ era is ten cents for you,” he said, throw-
ing down a coin. ‘ Now go and start a bank i”

Bill Yards dropped his box, and stared with
his allow: and eyes wide open, at the iiberal
you . r

“ Thunderationl” was all he could say. For
once his tongue was not equal to me task of
expressin his sentiments.

‘Wgat s the matter, bub!” asked the young
upstar .

“ May I he copperdistilled if I don't believe
I’m crazyl Can my ears believe my_ eyesight?
Has the comet throwed everything into over-
lastin’ smash, or is this Sim Brattle?’ .

_“Didn’t you really know me, Bill!” inquired

Sim.

“Burned if I did, and I ain’t I0 bu’stin’ sure
that I know you now.”

“Then I’m all right, and will pass In any
crowd. Ain’t thing illin’ rig, Bill?”

“Killiu'i I should blush to remark. It’s

‘ nothin’ short of murder in the first degree, with
malice aforesaid. What have you been stepexz'n' _
.

into, anyhow! Found a gold mine, or j‘in
whis ri

n l”
“I ldygou. Bm.thatlwu80in’totryto'

 

hart t. the Lad with the Level Held. 1

.a.._.

 

'light on some rich old gndeman who wanted
to adopt a norfln. Well, I struck him."

“ Did you, than hi"

“Don’t I look ii 6 it? I am residin’ at present
in a palatual mansion on Chouteau avenue.
Want any money? Here’s a half dollar."

Bill stared at the coin, and fingered it, as if
he was afraid it might vanish at any moment.

“I ‘ve in, Sim,” he said, quite meekly. “ I’m
rattle . Ialn’t nothin’ but a street scalawag,
sca’cely fit to black boots for each smart speki-
lators as you. How did you do it? Gimme the
tip. What sort of a racket are you on, any-
how?"

“That’s a mystery,” solemnly re lied Sim.
"Ican’t tell on now. I’ve got to eep mum
for awhile. his is important business, you
see. Private and confidential. But I’m on the
right track, and mean to stick to it. When I
git settled down, and can see my way ahead a
little furder, you may bet that your pardner
won’t go back on you. Igou’d seen the way I
fixed up things to-day, B' , and had heard me
chin around among the airystuckupracy, ou’d
ha’ said that Sim Brattle’s head is as leve as a
railroad track. I’ve got to keep it level, too, or
somethin’ will smash.”

“To think that I’d almost picked you up for a
greenyl” exclaimed Bill, regarding his friend
with adrriration. “ You re a regular tiptopper,
and no mistake. When Barnum wants to git
hold of a great moral phenomenon, I mean
to tell him to come out here and ketch Sim
Brattle."

“ All right, Bill; but you mustn’t call me by
that name afore folks. I have had a new chris-
tenin' and have got a new name.”

“ Who are you now 7”

" Ames is my name—Arthur Amos, Esquire.”

“ Any relation to Amy Ames?"

“ Not that I know of. Wish I was."

“ That reminds me,” said Bill. “ I saw that
gal to-day."

“ You saw Amy! Was her mother with her?
Did on go to her house!"

“ met her on the street. You oughter know
that her mother can’t git out 0’ the house. She
asked after you. I am goin’ to see ’em to-
morrer.”

“ I wish I could go,” said Sim, looking at his
new suit and thinking what a fine figure he was
for a visit. “ But I can’t go to-morrow.” .

“Plenty of time. I say, Sim, I am goin’ to
among up t at old chap whose sachel you found,
“ I’vvish you would wait until I can go with
you. -

“Guess I’d better make a strike when you
can’t go. Mebbe he’s another rich old gen’le—
man who wants to adopt a norflu, and I mus’n’t
isnissrany chances. When will 1 see you ag’in,

nu

“ Right here, to—morrow evenin’ at six, and
every evenin’ at six, until I can invite you to
my palatual residence; and now I must light
out for that sweet spot right away, without
stop in’ to play marbles on the road.”

‘ go long, Sun, and keep your head level."_

“ I’ll try, and will be here to-morrow evenin’
at six, sure."

 

CHAPTER IV.
BILL sums BECOMES AMBITIOUB.

BILL YARDS was full of admiration for his
friend and all .

Nothing ha evor struck him as so wonderful
as this—that a boy of fifteen should come to
such a city as St. Louis, a stranger, friendlcss,
penniiess, and nearly ragged, and in less than
a day should be “splurging” around, dressed
up “ to the nines,” with money in his pocket,
and claiming as his home a “ pulatual residence ’
on Chouteau avenue!

It was a miracle—it was a fairy tale—it was
a revised edition of Aladdin and the lamp!
How bad he done it? What sort of a streak of
luck had he struck? Were there any more such
openings in St. Louis? Had he really been
adopted by some rich man, or was be running
on a track that would speedily bring him to the
State risonl

Bill ept worrying his head with this problem
through the night, in the cheap lodging-house
where he had taken a bed, and awoke in the
morning determined to “ make a strike ” and to
(filnd or force a way to fortune as his friend had

one.

As he told Sim Brattle, he had met Amy
Ames the day before. He had recognized her
at once as the girl whom he and his friend had
saved from the wrecked and burning car, but
she, who had had but a brief glimpse of him in
the darkness, did not know him at first. Bill
was not too bashful to recall himself to her ac-
quaintance, and she greeted him joy fully.

“I am so glad to see you," she said. “ I was
afraid that we might never run across you again,
though gou had saved our lives. Where is your
friend, im Brattlel”

Bill Yards could only answer that Sim was
somewhere in St. Louis.

“ Do bring him up to our house. Poor me. is
laid up with her broken ankle; but she will 'be'
ever so glad to see you both, and I knowshe
wants to thank you, and perha s we can do
something to help you, for I do he ieve that you
are even poorer than we are. Here is our street
and number—see, I put it on this card—and you
must be sure to come, and when shall we look
for vonl"

“To-morrow morning,” replied Bill, glad of I
chance to put a word in.

“Don’t fail to come, then, or we shall be
awfully disappointed, and tell your friend that
we want to see him ever so much.”

When Bill started out in the mornin to find
the way to fortune, he left his box of lacking
tools at the lodging—house, for fear that it might
stand in the way of his immediate adoption by
some solid citizen. - . .

But he was willin to postpone his ambitious
schemes until be con d make the promised call
on Mrs. Ames and her daughter, and toward the
address that had been given him he first turned
his steps.

He found them living in asmall but neat house
in the northern part of the citflian‘d was warmly
welcomed by Amy, who took i_m Intoapleasant
ro m where her mother was lying on a lounge,

' with her ankle in splints.
' “You find me scarcelysble to mew-aid

, >

 

5 Quart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head.

Mrs. Amos, when she had eeted the lad in the
friendliest manner; “but am glad that I am
alive, and that piece of good fortune I owe to

you and our friend. But where is he? Amy
told me hat you were both coming here this
morning.”

Bill hardly knew what to say about his friend,
for fear that he would say too much; but be ex-

lained that Sim was kept away by “important

usiness,” and that he had “ struck a lucky
streak.”

“ I am so sorry!" exclaimed Amy. “That is
I am awfully glad if he is lucky, but so sorry that
he could not come. This ver day, too, When my
brother Dick has just come ome from Colorado
—Santa Clara, in Colorado—d0 you know Santa
Claral—it is a new place where they dig gold,
and everybody gets rich all of a sudden, and we
are hoping that Dick will get rich, and we have
told him all about you and your friend, and he
is awfully anxious to see you both."

“ How you do run on, Amy I” said her mother.
“ Suppose you run to the door. I heard the bell,
and perhaps that is Dick himself.”

So it was, and he proved to be a fine young
man of twenty or twenty—one, tall for his age,
handsome enough to be Am ’5 brother, with
sun—browned cheeks and sue an a earance
of health and strength as made Bill ards de«
ligfiit to look upon him.

ichard Ames at once put the street lad at
his ease, made him feel at home, and in a short
time had drawn out his entire history, in-
cluding his present condition and his immediate
desires.

“ I am thinkin’,” said Sim, “ of lookin’ about
to find some rich old en’leman who wants to
adopt a norfln, as Sim Brattle got adopted
yesterda .”

A “ Has 9 really been adopted?” asked Richard
mes.

“ Guess you’d think so, if you should see his
rig. Why, he is togged out in as big style as
the lilies of the valley that Scripter tells
about.”

“ That is really astonishing. I can’t retend
to understand it. But we will know al about
it, I suppose, when we see him. Well, Master
Bill, I am neither an old man nor a rich one,
and it is too early for me to begin to adopt
orphans; but my mother and sister want to do
something for you, to prove that they are
grateful; and so, if you will take a walk with
me, we will find a clothing store, and see what
sort of a suit can be got for you.”

There was no refusing this good-natured ofler.
If Bill had wanted to refuse it, his kind friends
would not have allowed him to think of such a
thing. So he went out with Richard Ames,
and soon his up arance was transformed as
nothing but a c ange from rags to new and
nice clothing can transform a rson.

As he admired himself in a iass, it occurred
to him that he had at least ta on one ste up

the ladder which Sim Brattle had mounte —he
was well dressed. It also occurred to him that
it would never do for the possessor of such a
suit to descend to blacking boots or selling
papers. Good clothes are apowerful stimulus to
ambition. As he had got a start, he could not

 

stop, but must go on and up.

    

 

Then he must go With menaru Amos to the
house again, and show the suit to the ladies,
and then he must stay todinner, which had been
kept back for him and Dick.

By the time dinner was over he had got into
a fidget thinking over the golden moments he
was losing, and the splendid chances he was
missing. f be was to step into a fortune such
as Sim’s, before six o’clock in the evening, he
must hurry and find it.

So he hastened away after promising to re«
turn soon, and went in search of Cornelius
Corum, the old man with the heavy sachel.

It was not easy to find the address which he
had preserved in his memory, among the rook-
eries of that part of North Second street to
which he had been directed, some of which
seemed to have existed since the time when St.
Louis was a French settlement. But he finally
found the name of “C. Corum, Agent,” on a
little old tin sign at the door of an old buildin
which had a brick wall for the ground floor an
tumble—down frame for the upper stor .

There was nothing to show that . Comm
was agent of or for anything in particular, and
no sign of any sort of business In the dirtcov—
ered windows, and Bill Yards shook his head
sadly as he thought that this rookery was far dif-
ferent from the “ palatual residence ” of which
Sim had boasted.

He knocked boldly at the door, which was
opened after some delayaby a ver ugly negro
girl, and was admit d into t e dark in-
terior.

When his eyes had become accustomed to the
dim light, he looked around, and rceived that
he was in a square room, low-eel inged, dingy,
dirty and without the least sign of wealth or
luxury. There was no carpet on the floor, and
the only furniture was an old desk, a battered
bureau, a stand of pigeon—holes, a rusty safe,
and a few worn and clumsy chairs. »

A closer look showed him one piece of com-
fortable furniture — a cushioned arm-chair,
roomy and wellvpadded, in which was seated an
old man with a short, thick body and very slim
legs. He had a square face, a low forehead,
small eyes and rusty gray hair and heard.

The lad at once recognized him as the man
who had lost the sachel, and was not at all
pleased with his appearance.

“What do you want, now?” sharply demand-
ed the old man. “Out with it, and be quick,
for time is valuable. If on have come from
Owiugs, you may go rig t back and tell him
that he can have no more money until he pays
that last note—not a cent.”

Bill Yards had helped himself to a chair, and
did not seem to be in an sort of a hurry.

“I thought you mig t know me,” he said.
“ Do you remember losm’ a sachel full of mono
night afore last, when the train was smashed.”

“ There was no money in that sachel," sharp-
ly replied Mr. Corum. “ How can you say that
t ere was money in it? I never carry anything
valuable, and never have anything valuable to
carry."

“ ou said you would give a reward to the
tellers that found it " suggested Bill.

“Are you one of these boys? Yes, I know
you now, though you have come out in m

    

nun 0.54

nah-III!“

Smart Sim. the Lad with the Level Head. I

 

colors, like the flowersin Spring. He, he! ‘Bu't

Wu are not the boy who found the sachel.
here is he!”

B He couldn‘t come with me to-day,” replied

“You must brin him, if you expect to get
an thin . I offer to give something, and I
wi 1 thin of it. Yes, I will think of it before

on come again. But you must bring the other

y, "as he found the sachel. You may go
now.

But Bill Yards was not read to go. If there

was a fortune to he stepped in o, it would never
do to walk backward, and he returned to the
attack.
“The other he has struck it lucky,” he said.
“He has been a opted by a rich old gentleman
who livesina palatual residence on Chouteau
Avenue, and the flowers in spring can’t hold a
candle to his style.”

The old man looked at the led with an in-
credulous sneer, as if to say “ What are you
givin me!”

“Its a fact, mister. He has come out like a
rainbow after a shower. So I thought I had
better look over the town for some rich old gen’-
leman who wants to adopt a norfln, and I came
here to (give you the fust chance."

Mr. ‘ rum leaned back in his chair. and
stared at the lad for some minutes without

speaking.

“Merciful heavens!" he exclaimed at last.
“ Has the boy gone era l Who ever heard of
such a thing? Do 1 loo like a rich old gentle—
man? Does this poor hovel of mine look like a
rich man’s residence?”

“ It won’t aJlus do to bet high on looks,” re-
plied Bill.

“Mercy on usl What a world is this! You
have come to the wrong shop my lad. I do
not wish to adopt an orp an. would as soon
think of adopting a rattlesnake or a wildcat. I
have a son, I am sorry to say, who is the ter-
ment of my life, and who is alwa s annoying
me by asking for money. though I ave scarce-
! enough to kee a roof over my own head.

ut I have sent im ofl to Colorado, where I
he he wxll stay, and you may go oi! now,
an ——,you need not trouble yourself to come
back.

Bill Yards, dropped his head. This did not
look a bit like stepping into a fortune. How
bad Sim Brattle done it? What was the secret
of his success? Wh had not that youn aris-
tocrat told his end how to ‘ wor the
racket?”

The ugly negro girl came into the room by
some unperceived entrance, and whis red to
the old man, who turned pale, tremb ed, and
lool'fid anxiousl about.

“ e here!” 6 exclaimed. “Birch Corum
come back! Are you sure of that, Rose?"

“Yes, Bah. I see’d him a while a o, walkin’
on t’other side of the street, and 100 in’ at the
house. The sidewalk wasn’t nigh wide enough
for him."

“ Mercy on usi This is terrible. What shall
I do? I must look n everything. I will apply
to the police. No, t at would never do.”

His eyes rested on Bill Yards, and a sudden
thonght seemed to strike him.

 

"Ah, my youn friend!" he said. “I am
led you came. on area flnelad, and I would
'ke to do something for you. I can’t adopt
on; but I can ive you a. good supper and a

home for the night. How would you like to
slee with me to—ni ht?”

“ ain’t fond o sleepin’ with old folks,"
bluntly replied Bill. .

“ Oh, I don’t ask you to sleep with me, but in
the house. You shall have a bed to yourself,
and a good one. Will you stay 3”

“All right; but I’ve got to be at the Union
Depot at six o’clock, to meet my pardner, Sim
Brattle.”

“ Can‘t you put that off?”

“ Not for no money.”

“ Be in a hurry, then. It is nearly six o’clock
now, and I want you to come back as soon as
you possibly can.’

The lad promised to do so, and the door was
locked and barred behind him.

“ If I had as level a head as Sim Brattle has
got, I would make a strike out 0’ this,” he
muttered, as he walked away.

CHAPTER V.
MIXED FAMILY MATTERS.

AT the Union Depot Bill Yards failed to find
his friend Sim Bruttle, alias Arthur Ames. He
looked all about the neighborhood, and made
inquiries of various persons; but nobody had
seen such a young gentleman as he described,
and he was surely not visible to Bill’s sharp

 

eyes.

After waiting as lon as he thought he could
afford to, the lad went ack to keep his appoint-
ment with Cornelius Corum. He was rieved
because he had not been able to show
new suit, and troubled because his friend had
failed to come to meet him.

What was the matter? Something unusual
must have ha ened to kee Sim away. Had
he climbed t e ladder of ortune to such a
bi ht that he could no lo!) er look back on his
fr end! 01' had he—and t is was the thought
that Bill Yards really worried over—got into a
sore. from which even his level head wold not
extr cats him!

At the Corum house Bill was admitted by the
ugly negro girl after the usual delay, and there
go found another visitor making himself at

0111..

He at once jumped to the conclusion that this
visitor was the son of whom the old man had
spoken—Birch Corum, who had unexpectedly
returned from Colorado.

He was led to this conclusion by the appear-
ance of the visitor, who looked like the copy of
the old man, exce t that his lower limbs were
not small and s runken. He was rou hl
dressed, and his skin was very dark an h 3
hair and heard were uncombed, and his small
0 es were red, and he had the ap arance, as
Bill Yards thought, of a man who ad been on
a “ reg’lar jamboree.”

“ This is a youn friend of mine, Birch," said
Mr. Corum when t e lad entered the room—“ a
young friend who has done me some small
favors, and I want to be kind to him.”

“Glad to see that you can be kind tosome—
body,” replied the young man. without giving

in] his '

 

 

Smartvsim, the Lad with theLevel Head.

 

Bill a second glance. “I think you ought to
be ' by being kind to me. Here am I, our
y son who have been far away, and ave
come bac dead broke, and only ask for enough
’. to take me out to Colorado again. Instead of
killing the fatted calf for me, (you want to give

. me nothing but the cold shoul er.”

“ How have you got rid of all you had, Birchi

 I ave you a. fine outfit, and it cost a great deal

‘ o monar ”

“A thimblei’nl to a thirsty man. I came on
here with some cattle, and went around with
the, boys and bucked against the keno men,
who ought to he shot for playing a rascally,

V swindling game. The long and short of it is
that I am flat broke, and I want money enough

H to take me back to Santa Clara.”

“You-are pumping at a dry well, Birch,"
said the old man. “Money is very scarce.
have hard] enough to keep body and soul to-
gether. y little rents come in very slowly,
and taxes and repairs and assessments are some-
thin terrible.”

“ hat be blowedl I have heard the same
sort of chm-musm from ou so often that 1 am
’ sick of it. You can’t 001 me. I know you
-, have lplenty and I want a little for my share.

You ad be r glive it to me, too, without an

i it. If

mi t worry

 

  
  
   
   
  
   
  
   
   
 
   

v fuss, or you w be likely to regre
.“should turn my tongue loose, I

you some.” ,

 V“ How much will you need?” V
' “ I shall want a thousand dollars."

“ A thousand dollars! Merciful Heavens! Is
theresomuoh money as that in the world? I
might raise a hundred dollars by borrowing—
but 1;,thousandl Do you take me for a million~
'aire , —

“, I take you for just what you are, and I shall
expect the money to-morrow.”

‘ Perhaps I can raise five hundred, Birch, by

 fitting a mortgage on a bit of land I have left;

it will ruin me.” ’ .

"I lmow just how much it will ruin you. I

 tell you that I want a thousand dollars, and I

Will call here at noon to-morrow to get it. Give

 me five dollars now, and I will not trouble you
until then.”

The old man hunted in his pockets until he
found a crumpled bill, which he had probably
placed there in expectation of just such a de-
mand. He gave this to his son, who left the
house without another weld, and the door was
locked and barred behind him.

“That is a very bad your": When,” said ,Mr.
Comm, when he resumed is neat. “ It is
awfully wicked in him to try to force money
from such a r and broken own old man as
31 am. But must try to get a little for him, if
r I have to sell eve thing, and, send him back to
_ Colorado. .I see y the papers that they are
mpeotingan Indian war to break out there,

and that is something to look forward to. Now
_’ ‘ji my young friend, we will have our supper and
’ go to bed.

5 ' Alter seeing that ev hin on the ground
’floor was locked, .boltedflzgrreg, and otherwise

secure, the old man knocked ,on the ceil-
hfi-trap  a ladder was let
m endin-

 

.56,
i

.4. ,z x...

Bill Yards. The ladder was then drawn up,
and the trap was closed.

The lad was struck dumb with astonishment
at finding himself in a brilliantly lighted and
elegantly furnished room, which seemed to
occup the entire 5 ace of the second floor of
the o d rookery. uch an establishment was
the last thing he would have expected to find
in that quarter. The walls were, hung with
rich and costly materials, the carpet was the
heaviest velvet pile, a. finely carved bedstead
occupied a corner, and the room was fairly
crowded with elegant furniture, paintings,
statuettes and other articles of ornament. Bill
Yards had never seen such a profusion of luxu~
‘rious fittings.

“ These are some things that I have taken on
storage,” said the old man. “ The owner thought
they would be safer here, and he is kind enough
to let me use them.”

Bill did not credit 9. word of this, and was in-
clined to believe that Birch Corum had placed
a pretty fair estimate on his father’s wealth.
But he did not give words to his doubt, and
prepared to enjoy the comforts and luxuries of
a “ palatual residence.”

The supper, which was brought in b the
ugly black girl from some locality whic the
lad could not even guess at, was very fine, and
was served on an elegant table, loaded with
handsome dishes and costly silver. Bill Yards
opened his eyes in wonder, but did not fail to
eat as if he might not get another square meal
for a month. . \

When this meal was over, Mr. Comm lighted

a meerscbaum pipe, and smoked In silence.
. Bill Yards was also silent. He was wonder-
ing why he had been brou ht u there to pass
the night, and he wished t at h level—headed
friend, Sim Brattle. was there to look the mat-
ter through and “ give him the tip.”

He was soon to be enlightened as to the pun
pose of his presence. ‘ .

Mr. Corum, when he had finished his smoke,
brought out a revolver. V

“Can you fire a pistol?” he asked.

“I see I can, as. well as the next man,” re-‘
plied ill. '

“You are to take this revolver, then, and
hava it within reach when on lie down. It
anybod should try to brea into the house,
shoot h .” ’

“ On the spot," added Bill.

“ Wherever you may happen to see him.”

The lad began to see through the hole in the
mill-stone. Mr. Comm was expecting a mid-
night visitation from his scapegrsoe of a

son. ,

“ S’posin’ it should be that young man who
was here this evenin’,” sug ested Bill.

“That was In son,” rep ied Mr. Corum. l“ I
cannot believe at he would 'be guilt of au_at-
tempt to rob his poor old father. at he is a
very wicked youu man, and the Wicked are
apt to come to unt mely ds.”

A bed was made on the r for the lad, and
he noticed that it wasdflaced exactliiovor the
trap door-Z" But that d npt alarm m in
least, and he lay down as soon as he was al-fl

 

 

pointed its followed by

lowed to, and slept the sleep that ,

AL..-..---,<.‘_ man. ,s,

1

\

.r I.

   

 

 

  

Smart Sb, the Lad with the Level Head.

 

ll

 

with youth, health, a clear conscience, and a
supper. .

That is to say, he slept very soundly. Noth-
ing disturbed his slumber, and when he awoke
in the morning he found the unused revolver
lying where he had left it.

Cornelius Corum did not seem to be greatly
relieved by the fact that he had passed a quiet
night. Indeed, it might be supposed that he
was disappointed because nobody had attempted
to break into the house.

“ I am afraid," he said, “ that my unfortunate
son must have got very drunk last night.”

Bill Yards was given a good breakfast, and
was taken down-stairs and dismissed.

“How much do you pay your night watch-
man, mister?” he asked.

The old man squeezed a dollar out of his
breaches pocket, and gave it to the lad, making
him promise to return there in the afternoon, if
convenient, and in the evening as a matter of
certainty.

“There must be some sort of a fortune in
this," muttered Bill, as he walked away; “but
I can’t seem to get the hang of it. If Sim Brat-
tle was here, he could put me right onto it;
but I can’t see my way clear to take hold of
it. ’

He went directly to Mrs. Ames’s house, where
he found Dick and his mother enga ed in a.
discussion of family affairs; to whic he lis-
toned. .

“ You have not told me all the news et, mo-
ther,” said the young man. “ The mos impor-
tant point is to come. How is uncle Augustus
getting on i"

“ You know that we never see him, my son.
He never comes near us, and we are not die—
posed to force ourselves upon him. I hear that

e is living in fine style, and you may guess
whose money it is that kee s him u .”

“ Has my cousin Arthur en heard of?”

“Yes, at last. I have not much money for
lawyers, but have engaged Mr. Brenner to keep
the run of things for us. He tells me that there
was what he calls a reference yesterday, and
that your uncle Augustus appeared before the
referee with your cousin Arthur, and that a
large allowance was fixed upon, to be continued
until he comes of a e. I don’t wish to be un—
charitable, but it is c ear to me that your uncle
Augustus will get the benefit of it.”

“ You are never uncharitable, mother. You
are only speakin the plain truth. Where had
Arthur been all he while?” -

“ At school in Cincinnati.”

d “dI ,l’lfld almost begun to believe that he was

on .

31s: igod I," sci-id Mrs. Amos.

very 3 range. I can‘t see wh the
should send him of! to Cincinnati, or whayt moy-
tive they could have had in keeping him hid,
unless t eyJ supposed we would want to murder
him. If e should die, the property would
come to us, would it not?”

“Yes—ta you and Amy, under his father’s
will. Your uncle Augustus is only the ex-
ecl'l'tfri’t, t large 3"

a no a property

“ Yes; your uncle Arthur left a very valuable

est-to.”

 

" It seems to me that there is something mys-
terious and crooked in the business. But we
won’t worry about it, mother. It is ill waiting
for dead men’s shoes, anyhow, and we are talk-
ing about matters that our friend Bill does not
understand. You must pardon us, Bill, and
tell us now why you did not bring your friend
here this morning.”

Bill Yards shook his head sadly.

“ I don’t know what’s become of him," he
said. “ I told you that he had been adopted as
a norfln by a rich old en’leman, and was
dressed up as gay as a stoc broker. He prom-
ised to meet me at the Union Depot yesterday
evenin’ at six, and every evenin’ at six, and I
went there; but he didn’t turn u i.”

“Perhaps his new people would not let him
come,” suggested Amy.

“Mebbe so. I’m keen to bet he would have
come if he hadn’t been held, and I’m worried
about him.”

“ You must go to the depot again this even~
ing,” said Dick. “If you don’t find him then,
we must see what can be done toward looking
him up. ”

The lad stayed to dinner at Mrs. Ames’s. He
was indeed faring sumptuously. Then he do-
cided that he would go back to Cornelius
Corum’s, by the way of passing the time. As
he went, he found that his head was in a tangle.

“There’s a mixed lot of Ames folks about
here somehow,” he muttered. “ Dick Alnes has
goth cousin Arthur, and I guess his name must

e Amos, too. He has been missin’, and has
jist turned up. Sim Brattle’s name is Arthur
Ames now, and that’s a queer mix of things. I
wish I could git it stralght. If Sim was here
now, he would put his level head onto it, and
take the twist out of the tangle in no time.”

Yes—Sim could have done that Very thing.

“—

CHAPTER Vl.
“I MEAN 'ro STICK.”

As a matter of fact, Sim Brattle was not then
in a position to take the twist out of his own
tangles, and Bill Yards was correct in guessing
that his friend lml been kept away from the
place of meeting by force.

After leaving Iiill he had returned to the
“ palatual residence ” on Chouteau avenue. where
he was feasted and spoken to as “ Arthur.” His
treatment at the house of Au stus Ames im-
pressed him so favorably that e was strength-
ened in his determination to stay there.

Mr. rnd Mrs. Amos devoted the evening to
“coaching” him for the part he was to play the
next day, and they found him such an apt
scholar that they were sure their plan won (1
prove a success.

His task, indeed, was an easy one. His face
would ,identify him, and it would only be ne-
cessary to answer a few questions concerning
Cincinnati, and there would be no difficulty
about that, as he knew that city well.

He knew that there was something “crooked ”
in the transaction, and had some scruples of
conscience about playing the part that was

given him- but a night’s rest in a luxurious bed
and a breakfast which “ got him for all he was
worth,” had much to do with Ellench those

Kr

  

 

  

   

12

 

that he would stick.
In the morning he was taken to a lawyer’s
omce in the central part of the city, where a

quiet little party was arranged for the occasion, .

composed of the lawyer whose ofllce it was—
who was a referee appointed by the Probate
Court—Mr. and Mrs. Amos, Sim BrattIe—alias
Arthur Ames—Mr. Amcs‘s lawyer, who had
everything to say, and another lawyer, who
had nothing to say.

When Sim was introduced to the referee as
Arthur Ames, that gentleman shook hands with
him, and congratulated him upon his stout and
healthy appearance.

“It 13 along time since I have seen you, my
young friend," he said. “ More than two
years, I believe. It was shortly after your fa.-

her’s death when you came before me last.
But on have not changed much, except that
you ave grown taller and heartier.”

The referee then put a few questions to the
had, for which he had been duly prepared, and
which he answered quite readily.

Mr. Ames said that he had sent Arthur away
from St. Louis for the sake of his health, and
the result showed that he had acted wisely. He
intended to enter him at a college in Massachu-
setts, and asked an allowance from his father’s
estate for his support until he should come of
age. He was of the opinion that $3,000 a year
would be a to or allowance.

“It soun s 1i 9 alarge sum for a boy,” said
the referee; “ but he is growing older every
day. Considering his station in life, and the
fortune that be Will inherit it does not seem to
be too large a sum. Have you anything to say
in the matter, Mr. Brennan?”

The silent lawyer replied that he had nothin

, to say, as he was merely a locker on, and ha
no interest that would justify him in interfer-

g‘ Then I will report in favor of an allowance
of $3,000 a year, to be aid to Mr. Augustus
Amos, who can apply to t e Probate Court next
month for a decree confirming the report, and
that will end the matter until the young gentle-
man is twenty-one."

This closed the proceeding, and Sim returned
with his new friends to their house on Chou-
teau avenue.

At dinner Mr. and Mrs. Ames complimented
each other upon the success of their strategy;
but Sim noticed that they did not compliment
him. He also noticed that they had ceased ad-
dressing him as Arthur.

“ By the we , my young friend,” said Mr.
Amos, “ what id you say your name is?”

“It was Sim Brattle," replied the lad. “It

I remember it now.

is Arthur Amos now.”

“Yes, Sim Brattle.

Well, Sim, ou have done very well to—day,
and you shal not lose anything by this."

The lad mentally declared that he did not
mean to lose anything by it. It seemed to him
that there was a disposition to “ count him
out," to “ shut down on him," and to “let him
slide :” but he did not propose to allow anything
of the sort as ion as his head was level. He
was in no hurry, owevor, and was content to
hold his tongue and await developments.

   

Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head.

Icruples, and he was more than ever determined '

  

He did not have to wait long. He was taken
into the room where he first met his two em-
ployers. and Mr. Ames brought up the subject
of his future movements.

“Now, Sim Brattle,” said that gentleman, “ I
suppzose you will be glad to go back to Cincin-
nati

“ I hadn’t thought of it," briefly replied Sim.

“But it will be best for you to go there or
. somewhere else, and I shall want you to do so.

You have a fine suit of clothes, and of course I
. shall give you some money. So you will be able
‘ to go where you please, and that will be very
nice for you."

“ I am well enough of! where I am,” said Sim.

“ But you have sense enough to know that I
cannot allow you to stay in St. Louis, as some-
thing might happen here that would make trou-
i bio. I am through with you now. and I shall
{ pay you (:ff and send you away. Let me see—

think that twenty—five dollars would he a nice
present for you. but do you say to that?”

“ I’ve been flgurin’,” replied Sim, looking very
solemn.”

“What have you been figuring at?”

' “ At 63,000 a year. As figure it, that comes
to $250 a month, or $75 and some cents a week.
I hain’t been in school at C’nntta for nothin’,
and I don’t care how I take it, so’s I git it reg’-
lar.”

Au stus Ames looked at his wife, and his
wife ooked at him. His face expressed nothing
but astonishment; but there was a smile on her!
that might mean mischief.

“ What do you mean '4” he asked. “ What
have on to do with $3,000?”

“ T at’s my allowance—the figure fixed b
yor and that lawyer for my support and eddr
cal on, as I heard you both say. That’s what I
w; lit-no more, and no le.”

Augustus Ames fell back in his chair, and
amazement and horror were written in every
wrinkle of his yellow countenance.

“ This is too much i” he exclaimed. “ Do you
really fancy that the $3,000 a year we spoke of
is to go to you. 1’”

“ Who would it go to, then?" inquired Sim.

“ To the real Arthur Amos, of course.”

“Where is he?"

“ He is absent from the city just now, but he
will return.” _

“ I guess he won’t. You may think I am
easy to fool, mister, but 1 ess you have got
the wrong pig by the ear. here ain’t no such
a teller!”

“ What has become of him, then?"

“ He is dead!"

Mr. Ames was worse than astonished—he was
bewildered. If a mule had kicked him he could
hardly have been more demoralized. He looked
to his Wife for help but she sat there with that
amused smile on her face and said nothing
After twisting about in his chair for awhile. he
gathered himself together and changed his style
of attack.

“ I am sorry, my young friend,” he ssid,“that
you havo got such a wrong idea into your head,
and that you are so willful and stubborn. I don’t
want to have an, trouble with you—though I
am not afraid of avin an —-and 1 do want to
treat you kindly and h rafiy. How much shall

 

  

.% .. MNA.,..4 M--’——~=—--

   
  
 

   

Smart Sim. the Lad with the Level Head. 18

 

I pay you, on your promise toleave St. Louis
and stay away? ’

“ Send me of! to college,” replied Sim, “ and
figme my reg’lar allowance, and I’ll be satis-

“Will nothing less than that satisfy you?"

“ No, sir-eel" _

“Then I will tell you what I will do. I Will
take that suit of clothes from you, and send you
awa with nothing at all.”

“ vvguess you won’t, mister."

“ hy won’t l1"

“ Because I would go right out in town, and
hunt up that lawyer, and tell him somethin that
would make him open his eyes."

“He would never listen to you,” said Mr.
Ames, triumphantly. .

“ I ain’t sure that he would, from the squint I
took at him to-day. But there‘s more lawyers
in St. Louis than one, I guess."

“Do on know what you would do, you fool-
lsh boyi You would talk yourself right into the
penitentiary.”

“ I hain’t read about whisky rings for nothin'.
mister. 1 know what they do with the tellers
Who peach. It wouldn’t be me who would git
locked up, but some bigger and older folks.”

Augustus Ames had reached the limit of his
patience, and he flew into a passion.

"You infernal young rascal!” he exclaimed,
as he jumped up.

But his wife aid her hand on his arm.

He looked at her, and saw that same calm
smile on her fat face and knew that she had
come to his rescue. He resumed his seat, and
was quiet.

Sim Brattle also saw that smile, and braced
himself up, expecting nothing less than a severe
tongue-lashing.

Greatly to his su rise, and still more to the
suigmse of her hue and, she spoke pleasantly
an kindly, and took Sim’s side at once.

“The boy is right," she said.

"Right? screamed Mr. Ames.

“Of course he is ri ht, and you ought to have
sense enough to see t not he is.
as Arthur Ames to—day, he must continue to be
Arthur Ames and keep his place, at least until
our dear Arthur returns. If Arthur should not
return, my dear—” .

“ Yes my love.”

“ If Art ur should not return, I say, who
could fill his lace better than this bright and
handsome lad? who resembles him so closely 1"

Mr. Ames said nothin . He could not ess

‘what his wife was aim ng at, and thong t it
best to take refuge in silence.

“So we will send him to college,” she con-
tinued, ” and he shall have his allowance,
though I think we ought not to give him the
whole of it just yet. But that can be easily
arranged, and I will at him an outfit and send
him off as soon as he is ready to go."

Sim Brattle’s face was bright enough then.
The affair had turned out even better than he
could have expected, and he praised himself for
the firmness with which he had kept to the
course he had marked out.

“ Bill Yards was right when he told me I had
a level head,” he thought, “ and he would swear
to it if he knew how 1 have worked this racket.

As he appeared .

 

l

 

Everythin’ is lovely new and if thcy should
try any shenanigin after I git away, I will onl
have to pull the lawyer on them, and that w' i
make them crawl."

“Does that suit you, Arthur!” asked Mrs.
Amos, with a beaming smile.

“ That’s all I want, ma’uxn," replied Sim. “ I
have i t into the family, you see, and I mean
to stic ."

“ You are quite right to do so. What do you
want. Augustus, my dear?”

Mr. Ames beckoned to his wife, who followed
him out of the room into the froutpurlor, win-1'0
he paced the floor in a high state of exalte-
ment.

“ What do you menu?” he demanded. “ It is
impossible that we should do what you propose
to do. What are you driving at?”

“ You silly man!” replied his wife. “ You
should keep your e as open and have your wits
about you. That )0V is dnngcrous——vory dun-
gerous—and his tongue would ruin us. We
wanted a smart boy, and have found one who
is a great deal too smart. As he will not keep

uiet willingly, he must be forced to do so. ln
s ort, he must be put where he can do us no
harm.”

“you are right, my love, as you always

 

CHAPTER VII.
rmormn AND TRAPPED.

WHEN Mrs. Amos came back into the libr
with l or husband, her face fairly glistened wit
good humor.

“Mr. Ames has been hogging my pardon
because he had disa reed with me,” said she.
“ He now says that ought to get your outfit
at once. But it is really too late in the day to
go shopping.”

“That’s a. fact," said Sim. “If you please,
ma’am, it is just about the right time for me to
go to the Union Depot. I lpromised to meet my
pardner there at six o’cloc .”

“The person you went to meet yesterday
evening?’ she asked.

“ Yes, ma’am.”

“I wish you would put it oil! until to-mor—
row. He will not feel uneasy if he misses you
this evening. I will go out wi‘h you to-mor-
row, and then you shall have a fine gold watch
to show him.”

The mention of a gold watch turned the scale
and Sim reluctantly consented to rei nain an
let his friend wait until another evening. Yet
l e began to have a shadow of suspicion that all
was not right. He fancied that Mrs. Amen
was a little too kind and cheerful.

Sim Brattle did not leave the houso, but
Augustus Ames did. He did not appear at the
sulpper table, and it was nearly nine o'clock
w on he returned. .

He had a little private conversation-with his
wife, who short! entered the room in which
Sim was seated, ressed for gomg out.

“ Mr Amos has brought me some tickets for
the theater," she said. “As he is too tired to
go With’Ple, I will take you, Arthur, if you are
willin .

Simgsuggested that it was rather late for that;
but she assured him that she never cared to 390

 

 

   

14

Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head.

  

 

a play until the first act was over, and he bage patch. There's only one thing left for me

gladly consented to go with her, as a. gold
watch and an evening at a theater were enough
to disturb the level of any young fellow’s head.

“ When our friends see him with me at the
theater," she said, addressing her husband,
“the will know that Arthur has come home,
and t at we have nothing to conceal.”

A carriage was waiting at the door, which
they entered, and Sim Brattle felt that he had
fairly be a life of luxury. He wished that
Bill Yer could be there to see him.

It was a long distance to that theater. The
carriage was driven rapidly, and time was
passing, and block after block was left behind;

ut Sim saw nothing that looked like a theater.
He was beginning to get uneasy. Mrs. Ames
noticed this, and quieted him.

“ I am in no hurry to et to the theater,” she
laid, “and am going a ittle out of the way to
call on a sick person. It will take only a few
minutes, and it is but a block or so from the
theater. We are nearly there now."

Soon the carriage stopped at a small two.
story brick house that stood alone out at the
edge of the city. The shutters of this house
were closed tightly and no light was visible.

“ You may go in with me, Arthur,” said Mrs.
Ames, as she stepped out of the carriage.

He followed er in at the door, which she
opened without ringing or knocking, and they
fingpred a narrow, uncarpeted and dimly-lighted

a .
She led the way to the second floor, and
stop ed at a door near the head of the stairs.

“ ou may wait in here for a few minutes,
Arthur,” she said, “ while I speak to the sick
woman.”

She o ened the door, but he hesitated. He
did not ike the looks of the dark room, or the
peculiar smile on her face.

As he halted on the sill, she gave him a vigo-
rous push which sent him into the middle of the
room. Then she quickly pulled the door to and
locked it on the outside. In afew minutes he
heard the carriage drive away.

It was some little time before Sim Brattle
could recover himself sufficient] y to reflect upon
his position. The suddenness of his imprison-
ment had amazed and bewildered him. He
had fallen from such a hight of good fortune
that the shock stunned him.

“ Durn the women 1” was the first result of his
meditations, as his wits came back to him.
“ Dora the women, an howl Any one of them
has got more tricks 1; an a dozen men. I had
the old man dead to rights, but let his wife
lump in and take the ame out of my hands.

mi ht have known s e was playin’ roots on
me, mm the soft way she worked it. I did
know it, but I follered ri ht along, like a first-
class idiot, and let her 0 just as she pleased
with me, and here she has got me shut up like a
mouse in a trap. But ’most any teller would
trust a fat woman.”

After trying the door and finding it securely
closed, he indul ed in a little more reflection.

“If Bill Ya swas here now," he said, “ he
would take back what he told me about my
head bein’ love]. It’s the poorest excuse fore
head that could he picked up outside of a cab-

now, and that is to wait till the fool-killer
comes around. I guess he’s got my measure
‘for a collin. But, gracious spikes! if I could
git out of here, wouldn‘t I make it hot for
y lem In

The idea of getting out was easier to reflect
upon than to act upon. The room could not
have been darker if it had been tilled with

itch, and it was only by feeling around that
he could make any discoveries.

There was little to discover. There was not
a table in the room, nor ‘a chair, nor a stick of
furniture of an kind. On the bare floor was
i a straw bed, With not a. bit of bedclothes upon
it. This was all.

There was one window, which the lad found,
and tried to raise, but it was nailed down
tightlfi. 'He shook it with all his force, and the
noise 0 made brought from the yard below the
res onse of a deep growl, followed by a bark,
we as might proceed from the throat of a full-

rown mastiff or bull dog. He stamped on the
Eoor and shouted; but only the dog made an-
swer, and his reply was not calculated to com-
fort the prisoner.

Sim clearly perceived that he must abandon
all attempts to escape, rt least until da light.
When he had reached this conclusion, e lay
down on the bed, and in a few minutes was
sound asleep.

In the morning some breakfast was brought
to him by a big-flsted and hard-featured Irish-
man, who looked as if he might be a near rela-
tive of the big dog below.

tomed to the absence of light, and the little
that filtered through chinks showed him noth-
ing more of the room than he already
knew, except that the close shutters were bat-
tened in, so that no force of his could open
them. Clearly there was nothing for him to do
but to wait and see what the future would bring
forth.

He waited, with growing impatience, while
the long hours passed slowly, and there was
nothing to break the monotony of the day but
the appearance of the Irishman with his dinner,
and nothing could induce that Irishman to utter
a word.

This solitary confinement was breaking the
lad’s spirit, and all sorts of 1gloomy thoughts
and desperate resolves were ta ing possession of
him, when a man opened the door and walked
into the room.

entered; but Sim saw plainly that there was no
chance to escape, as the new-comer was a
strongly-built man, coarsely dressed, with a low
forehead, a bearded face that was dark from
exposure to sun and wind, and a general dare-
devil recklessness of a pearance.

“I have come to ta e on away from here,
bub," said this rough-looking customer. “You
are going West, to grow up with the countr ."

“Yesl’ said Sim, inquiringly, leased t at
there was no prospect of being mmediately
murdered.

“ Yes; you are going far awa from here, and
I want you to mark what I to l on now, and

 

remember it. You have been eateninz to

The Iad’s eyes had by this time become accus- ‘

-The door was left wide open when the man '

  
  

    

4......‘ ,‘m A

Smrt Sim, the Lad with the Level Head. 15

 

make trouble for some friends of mine, and the
Want me to take you out of their way. In fa ,
they have paid me to do it. I hope t at is plain
enough talk.”
“ I will be mighty glad to git out of this place,
anyhow," remarked Sim.
“You won’t be hurt,” continued the man, “if
you mind what I tell you. You are a boy who
as run away from his folks in Colorado, and I
am an officer who is taking you back there.
That’s what I shall say about you, if I have to
say an thing, and you had better not even think
of say ng anythin against it; for I am Black-
hawk, the Terror 0 the Plains, and it ain’t safe
to fool with me.”
Sim opened his eyes wide, and directed at the
speaker a stare of min led awe and admiration.
Gracious spikes l” e exclaimed. “Are you
one of those fellers, mister—like Buffalo Bill and
Texas J ackl And are you oin’ out among the
Injuns, and all that sort of t ing? And are on
goin’ to take me with on? Oh. that'll be (jio l i
That was only a bit 0 a lark I had with 01 r.
Ames, and I didn’t mean any harm, and if they
had offered me such a chance as this I would
have jumped at it."
“ Come along, then, and see that you keep
jumping at it. " I
“ ou bet I will jump when such a splendid
lookin’ man as you are takes the lead. Bay, Mr.
Blackhawk, am I goin’ to have a rifle, and kill
In unsl"
he Terror of the Plains was evidently im—
pressed by the admiring enthusiasm of the young

“ All that will come along in time, if you prove
to be the right kind of a chap," he replied. “ But
you mus’n’t call me Blackhawk about here. You
may call me Birch. Come along, now!”

hen Sim followed his leader out of the house
he noticed that the day was near spent. A car-
riage was waiting at the door, which the en-
tered, and were driven rapidly to the rai road
depot, where they boarded a train that was about
to eave.

As the bell was ringin , and the conductor
was shoutin “ All aboard! ’ Sim was looking out
of the win ow, and he caught sight of Bill
Yards, who was standing still and staring
about.

Sim knew his friend’s face well enou h,
though the dress was strange to him, and e
hastened to attract his attention.

“ Hey, Bill!” he shouted.

“ What do you mean by that?" said Birch, as
he jerked the lad away from the window.

f‘ I saw a partner of mine out there. Gracious
spikes! ain’t he dressed up, though 1”

And the train rattled away.

 

CHAPTER VIII.
mu. YARDS UN'rwIs'rs A TANGLE

Anna leaving Mrs. Ames’s house, Bill Yards
sauntered down to Cornelius Comm’s rookery.

He found that disagreeable old' gentleman in
a more agreeable mood than usual. Indeed,
he was in quite a good humor.

“ Come in, my youn friend," he said. “ 001110
in and sit down. illiam is your name. I.

 

believe. I am glad to see you, William. That
wicked young man, my son, called on me at
noon; but I was ready for him. Not with
money, though—ho, ho!—but with something
that was as good as money, and that saved mo
quite a sum.

“ You see, William, a friend of mine came to
me this morning—a wealthy old gentleman, who
lives in a fine house on Ciiouteau avenue, and
he wanted some advice about a boy. It seems
that he had taken this boy to his house out of
charity, and had iven him a fine suit of clothes,
and had fed an lodged him. The boy was
useful to him in a little matter of business; but
that is of no conse uonco.”

Bill thought of im lirattlo‘s fine now suit,
and of the “palatual residence ” of which his
friend had spoken; but he wisely kept his
thoughts to h mself.

“ This b0 began to give my friend trouble,"
continued t e old man. “He was about your
size, I udge, and proved to be a very wicked
boy. hen my friend had no further use for
him, he was about to send him away; bathe
said he meant to stick. Merciful Heavens!
How impudent some boys are! He seemed to
think that he owned all m friend’s property,
and he vowed and declare that he meant to
have a big share of it.

“ My friend, who is not as sharp as he might
be, flew into a paSSion; but his wife, who has a.
big head full of sense, humored the boy, and
told him that he should have all he wanted. So
she took him out for a ride, and quietly shut him
up in a tight place, where she had him as snug
as a cork in a jug.”

“ Where is he now?” asked Bill.

“That is what you don’t need to know. He
will not stay there long. My friend came to
me to ask me what he should do with the boy.
That’s a fine chance thinks I, to get some
money for my son. 0 I told my friend that I
knew of a wicked young man who was going to
a very dangerous place in Colorado, and who
would be g ad to take the boy out there, if well
paid for it, and let him grow up with the
country, as people say.”

“ Or start a new graveyard,” suggested Bill.

“Well, he would 6 a flno subject—he, he i—
to start a new graveyard with. My friend
a ced to that and I mentioned it to my son
w en he called, and he was quite willing to get
the money he wanted in that way, and he is to
come this afternoon and settle the matter."

“ You don’t want me for anything, then?” re-
marked Bill.

“Not now, William. You may call again. if
you choose—say at four or five o’clock. After

hat wicked young man leaves the city, I may
be able to do something nice for you. .I have
done a good stroke of business today, William.”

Bill Yards hastened to board a street-car, and
rode up to Mrs. Ames’s. A suspicion that had
been growing in his mind had become almost
a certainty, and he was anxious to consult his
friends.

He found Richard Amos at the door, just
starting out.

“ I have to go back to Santa Clara at once,”
said Dick, “ and am in a. hurry to get read .”

Bill begged him to come into the house or a

. /.

 

    

 

16 Smart Sim. the Lad with the Level Head.

 

few minutes, ashe had something of importance boy he spoke of is to leave the city. Then you

to tell him.

“ It is about my partner, Sim Brattle,” he
said, when they were seated in the room with

Mrs. Amos and Amy.

must be at the Union Depot again at six. to see
if your friend comes to meet you. By that
time I hope we will know what to do.”

i This programme the lad followed as well as

“ Have you heard nothing of him yet?” asked he could; but he was umuccessful in his efforts

Dick.

“Not a whisper, and I am worried about
I’m afem'cd he has got into a scrape, and i
I told you that he had been

him.
a bad one at that.
adopted by a rich old gen’leman.”

“ Quite an unreasonable story,” said Dick.

“That’s what he told me, and he said I must ,

keep mum about it until he got settled. But

I think I begin tosee through it now. You
. were talking about a boy named Arthur Amos

who had been missin’ but had turned up at
last and there was a heap 0' money mixed up
in the story. Well, the fact is that when I last
saw Sim. and when he told me that yarn, he
said that his name was Arthur Amos.”

If a to do had exploded in the room, it

could hard y have caused a greater sensation.

Dick jumped up, Amy screamed, and cvun

Mrs. Ameawas greatly excited.
Di“kWhy didn’t you tell us this before?” asked

c
“I didn’t rightly got hold of it when you
weretnlkin’ "replied Bill. “The idee come to
me sorter slow, and di iu’t git fairly stuck in
my crew until a bit ago."

‘Arthur Amos must be dead, then, and this
boy has been employed to ersonate him,” said
Mrs. Amos. “Who won! have thought that
after saving our lives he would do us such an
injury?”

“ Why, ma, he could not have known that he
was hurting us,” suggested Amy, “ and I doubt
at lilo rgally had any clear idea. of what he was

0 n .

“ ou are right, Amy,” said her brother,
“ and we ought not to blame him until we know
more about the matter. The most im ortant
question is, where is he? Wh do you t ink he
has gig: into a scrape, Billl hat do you sup-
pose s happened to him?”

Bill relate as briefly as he could the particu-
lars of his acquaintance with Cornelius Comm
lncludin the story which that old man he
lately to (1 him, and which he could not help
connecting with his friend, Sim Brattle.

“It seems to be clear enough," said Richard
Ames. “Our uncle Augustus has used the lad
for that purpose, and now he wants to get him
out of the wn . A man who could concoct such
a swindle as hat would not strongly object to
committing a murder for the purpose of cover-
ing his tracks. "

“That is nterrible charge,” remarked Mrs.
Ames, “and we ought not to make it unless we
are sure that it is true.”

“I can easily make sure of that. Tell me,
Bill, exactly how your friend was dressed when
you last saw him. ThenI wxll see Mr. Bren-
nan, and get a description of the be who an-
swered to the name of Arthur Ames fore the
referee.”

Bill gave an accurate description of the ap-
pearance of his friend.

“Now,” said Dick, “you must 0 back to

Cornelius Comm. and try to find on when the

 

to pum ) out of Cornelius Corum such informa-
tion as e wanted.

That shrewd old money-grubber was even
more elated than he had been when Bill last
‘ visited him, and was communicative enou h as

far as he chose to be, but could not be in need

to go an inch further.

“ It is all right. William," he said; “ that bit
of business has been carried out nicely, and
everything is settled. My son came here, and
he was much pleased with what I pro osed to
him, and I gave him his money in ve new
hundred-dollar hills, which I at on my friend’s
check, and he will attend to bat little matter
for my friend exactly as it ought to be attended
to, I am sure.”

“ When will he leave town with that boy you
was s akin‘ about?”

“ , I don’t know. That was none of my
business. Right away, of course. I suppose
they are off and gone before this time. Whal
do I care about it? That wicked oung man is
out of my way, and has promi me that he
will not come back to trouble me for a long
time, and the papers do say that there is going
to be an Indian war out there.”

“ How long since he left this house?” inquired
Bill still bent on getting information.

“'Not long. How you do ask questions! He
was here but a short time. Let me see—J’

A cloud came over Cornelius Corum’s ugly
face and the bright and cheerful expression
left it suddenly.

“ I left him ere alone a little while,” said he.
“ He wanted me to go out and get one of those
bills changed for him, as he was afraid he might
be suspected of havmg stolen it. I was gone
but a‘ few minutes. It is not possible that he
could have done any mischief in that time.
lidsrciful heavens! I had not thought of it her
ore.

The old man hastily tried the door of his safe,
and found it locke . Then he opened some
drawers and little closets in his desk, and found
nothing out of the way there.

His ace began to grow brighter, but he was
not yet entirely satis ed.

He took a key from his pocket, and opened
the door of his safe. Then he took a tin box
from a shelf within, and carefully lifted the lid,
turnin his back upon his young visitor.

Sud only he uttered a screech of horror and
de air, and the empty box fell from his hands
to t e floor, and he would have fallen backward
if Bill Yards had not come to his assistance.

“ What is the matter?” asked the lad.

“ Oh, the reprobatel—the scoundrell—the in-
fernal villain! He has robbed me! He has
robbed his r old father! He had a he to
my safe, an I did not suspect it. What a b d
fool I have been! And now I am ruined!"

The agony in the old man’s face made Bill
pity him; but something more than pity wu

 

needed.
“ What did he take?" inquired the lad.

   
 
 
  

   

mmnddlog‘d

 

Smart Sim. the Lad_wlth the Level Head.

17

 

"Diamonds—the finest diamonds, emeralds! “Miners’and Rnnchmoi.'..l:lupp Homo;”butthe

and rubies—thousands of dollars’ worth. Oh, I
am ruined l”

“ What train was he to go on? Let's stop
him.”

“ He must be off before now.
I know about that.”

“ Let’s ketch him, then.” '

The old man 'umped up. The lad’s brisk and
active manner lied put new life into him.

“Yes, we must catch him," said he. “Will
you help me? I want your help, William. You
will serve me as well as a detective, and be
cheaper. I will give an the fine pistol you had
—that is, I will lend iz to you—and I Will get a
warrant or a requisition or whatever it is and
we Will follow him to Colorado—to Santa Clara
—and we will get my jewels, and on shall be
paid for your trouble, William—o . yes, you
shall be paid.”

“That suits me to a dotl” exclaimed Bill.
“ When are you goin’ to start?”

“ As soon as ssible—to—morrow morning."

“All right, Ipsvill run dewn to the Union De-
pot, to see if my pardner has turned up, and will
come back here to sleep.”

“lBe, sure that you do, William, and come
ear .

Tge lad hurried to the depot, but with no hope
of finding his friend. Blessed are they who ex«
pect nothing, for they shall not bedisappointed,
and in that respect he was blessed.

He was about to leave the place, when he was
startled by hearing his name shouted in a to-
miliar tone.

“Hey, Bill!”

There are many Bills, and that cry might be
heard any day on an street corner; but Bill
Yards was sure that e knew the voice. He
looked in the direction of the sound, and saw the
face of his friend at the window of a car that
was leaving the depot.

The next instant the face suddenly disap-
peared, and the train rattled away, far out of
the lad s reach.

But he was sure that he had seen his friend,
and was more than ever determined to follow
Birch Comm westward.

He hastened to Mrs. Ames’s house, and found
the family'm a high state of excitement. Dick
had seen is mother’s lawyer, Mr. Brennan, and
had learned from him that the description of
Arthur Amos exactly corresponded with that of
Sun Brattles Bill added to this the fact that
he had seen his friend leavin the city on a
westward bound train, and Rio ard Ames de-
clared that he would lose no time in endeavor-
mg to at possesswn of Sim and bring him back
to St. uis.

Bill related his afternoon’s adventure at Cor:
nelius Corum‘s, and said that he would start for
Colorado With that entleman in the morning.

“Go ahead,” said ick, “and I will be right
on your heels.”

CHAPTER IX.

TROUBLE IN A HAPPY noun.

Tan-“Happy Home"was not the on] hotel in
Santa Clara; but it was the best 0 the two
bad ones. It had Wine“: been styled the

,' .‘\

I told you all 1

 

mining business had “petere o " and the
name was too i rig to suit the n of the
ranchmen; so t had dwindled to “Happy
Home.”

The proprietor, Dan Sprawl, found It a dry
and lonesome businms waiting for better times,
as visitors were source outside of the customers
of his bar, and he was rejoiced when two
strangers alightud from thaltago and inscribed
their names in tho dirty refit” that lay on his
bar counter. ,

The names were these:

“ C. Corum St. Louis.”

“ Willyum Yards, Esquire, New York.”

The latter inscription was completed, after
considerable labor, by a rather young gentle-
man, with auburn hair and a snub nose, who
stood back and surveyed it with an air of

triumph.
A short and fat man, with a rod face and a
redder nose, and with a literal arance of

having seen better days a. long me ago, who
had been looking over the lad’s shoulder,
stepped back, and gazed at him admiringly.

‘ s that your name be asked.

“Yes,” replied Bill.

“ All of it yours?”

“Of course it is.”

“ And on have come all the way from Noo
York. ebbe you‘re a lawyer, and are gwino
to stick up a shingle here. ”

“Not much. I’m a spekilator."

“ Pockets full 0’ rocks, i reckon. Wal, young
gentleman, I’ve got a mine to sell—lust class
gold mine, and all the ore that ain’t gold is sil-
ver, ’ceptln’ a streak o’ quicksilver that runs
through the lead.”

“Say, now, Baldy " remarked Dan Sprawl,
a big six-footer, “ I don’t want you to be givin’
the guests of this yere hotel too much of yer

b

“’Tain’t oflen we see sech a fine young gen-
tlemanas this,” remarked the man who was
addressed as Baldy. “ Mebbe he mought want
to treat. ”

“Not if I know Wit," said Bill. “I be-
long to the Business en's ’Ciety fur the Pur-
ventiou of Treatin’.”

By this time the room had filled with loun-
gers who were inspecting the strangers closely.

“ 9 here, tellers,” said Baldy, “this line
young gentleman from the great metrapulis
an s he won’t treat.”

‘1 reckon he will have to, or shed some of
his feathers,” remarked a. man who was even
bigger than Dan Sprawl, and a howl of assent
to] Bill Yards that there was trouble in store
for him. He looked to Cornelius Comm for
help, but only saw the old man’s coat tails as
he went out at the door.

The next moment the lad was picked up,
passed over the heads of the crowd, and Seated
on the counter.

“I reckon we’ve got to hev suthin’ to amuse
us,” remarked Baldy. ,

“ 0h, I'll amuse you fast encugh,” said Bill.

“W’ot kin you do that's interestin’, young
Ipekilamrl"

“Jest make room fur me on that floor, and
I'll give you em on’

 

 

 

 

18

 

Smart Sim, the Lad

  

with the Level Head.

 

In a few minutes a space was cleared, and
Bill pulled oi! his coat, and rolled up the bot—
toms of his trowsers. Aftera little preliminary
shuflle, to limber his feet, he began the enter-
tainment with this ditty, which be sung in a
shrill but clear tenor:

“ My name is Willyum Yards,
And I am from New York;
On fun I allers go my pile,
But not a cent on work. '

He walked around the space reserved for him,
in the most approved style of the “ variety
artist," exacuted a breakdown that called forth
plenty of applause, and proceeded to sing his
second verse:

“ I ain't much on the drink,
Nor am I on the fight:
But when it comes to song an‘ dance,
My head an‘ heels are light."

“Now fur the third verso. gentlemen,” he
said, when he had again performed his walk-
around and breakdown.

“ I‘ve come to Santa Clara,
To have some sport, you know;
Fur it is jest the weljest town
This side of Jericho."

For an encore he repeated the first verse, and
when the storm of applause excited by this per-
formance had subSIded, he treated his audi-
ence to “ Wait Till the Moonlight Shines on the
Water.”

There was a general outburst of enthusiasm,
and then a rand rush to the bar.

“ That’s t a chap for in money,” exclaimed
the giant of the party. “ nybody what trends
on his toes will hev to buck ag’inst Bob Slater. ”

“ It’s as good as strikin’ a, new lead in an old
mine,” remarked Dan Sprawl “and that boy
kin" hang out at this hotel as long as he wants
to

“ Hurrah fur the Wild Warbler of the Santa
Clara Walleyl” shouted Baldy. “Whar’s the
old man, now! Let’s have him in, and see what
he’s up to."

Bill Yards had sought Cornelius Corum, and
found him looking at the scene from the outside
through a crack in the wall, and persuaded him
that it would be safe to enter the hotel. When
he came in he was greeted with inquiries as to
his business and destination.

“ Mg business is square enough, gentlemen,"
replie the old man, as his presence of mind
came back to him. “ I shall want help, and am

willi'ngnto pay for it. I am looking for the .

shenfl.

“I’m the sheriff,” said Dan Sprawl.
elected three
elected sincet en; so reckon I hold on.
thar ain’t no jail nor no court and the county
business has kinder fell through.”

“ What are you sheriff for, then?”

“ I was

“Wal, I mought kerlect the taxes, ef thar ,
was any tunes to kerlect; but since the diggin’s ‘

dried up, and this town has sorter faded out, we
don’t bother about taxes. What do you want of
a. sheriff, old gen’leman?”
“ I have a warrant and a requisition for a man
who stole some valuable jewels in St. Innis, and
. who has come out here."

“ Who is he?” asked Sprawl, looking around at
the loungch rather sus )iciously.

“His name is Birch orum.”

“ What! Blackhawk?”

This name was repeated by so many voices
that the old man was bewildered.

“The man I speak of,” he said, “is a. sort of
cattle—trader.”

“ Cattle—trader l” exclaimed Bob Slater. “ Cat-
tle-thief ouhad better say. Read—agent—high-
way rob r—whatever on choose to call him—-
you can’t give him too nrd aname. He’s the
worst egg in the basket. Thar’s plenty besides
you,”sti'anger, who would like to git hold of

EM.

“I offer a reward of one thousand dollars for
his capture and the recovery of the jewels,” said
Cornelius Corum.

“’Tain‘t enough, stranger. Thnr’s men who
would give more‘n that for him, dead or alive,
and dead is the only way to fetch him. He is n
durned sight more likely to ketch than to git
caught.”

“The fact is,” said Dan Sprawl, “that none
of us banker arter the job of buckiu’ ng’inst
Blackhawk and his gang, and we are only glad
if they will leave us alone. They used to take
this town every now and then, and make things
lively. We had a bank yere oncet, but they
cleaned it out, and that made an end of the
bank. 0! late days we don’t dar’ to run as
much as a taro—hank, for fear they mought
light in on it. The bottom fact of the matter is,
stranger, that our poverty purtects us. ”

Cornelius Corum looked around in dismay.
The prospect of success in the pursuit of his
jewels appeared to be very faint.

“There are men enough about here." he said.
“ and I should think that there ought to be some
among them who are brave enough to hunt that
rascal down.”

“ Yere’s yer hunter!” shouted Baldy. " Look
at mel Jest put me on the traill I’m the man
fur yer mone l Gimme five hundred dollars to
start on, an’ ’11 light out arter Blackhawk in
less’n an hour.”

A storm of jeers and hisses followed this offer,
as the crowd were clearly of the opinion that
Baldy’s lighting out with that sum of money
would result in his never returning.

“ As fur bein’ brave,” said one of the party
“I reckon we’re as brave as most folks; bu
men as hain’t got nothin’ don‘t fret much about
the losin‘s of them as has. Thar’s plenty of us

 

cars a o, and nobody has been ;
But '

as would be glad to tackle Blackhawk and his
gang, at he should give us cause, and of we
a could git a fair chance at him."

This sentiment was received with approba-
tion, and Cornelius Corum encouraged it by
directing Sprawl to produce his poison.

After several drinks had been absorbed, the
crowd became enthusiastic. and boisterously

 

proclaimed their intention of organizing for the
capture of Blackhawk and his band.

‘I wish we could git a sight at ’em nowl”
shouted Baldy.
snnozersl”

The gallogying of horses was heard on the
street, and he noisy loungers suddenly became
silent, looking at each other as it they were not
, easy In their minds.

“Wouldn’t we salivate the

A \

  

    

Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Head.

10

 

The galloping quickly came nearer, a number
of horses stopped at the hotel, and a sharp com-
mand was heard.

“ Blackhawki” shouted Baldy, and there was
a eneral rush for doors and Windows.

ut all the avenues of escape were stopped
by the muzzles of rifles, and three masked men,
with revolvers in their hands, marched into the
room.

“ Sit down, gentlemen, and hold up your
hands!" ordered the leader, and this command
was_instantly obeyed.

Bill Yards who hup sued to be standing at
the corner of the bar, (Yodged down behind the
counter, where he burrowed among some empty
ke s and bottles, and covered himself with an
01 sack. Cornelius Corum, seeing no escape
for himself, crouched down in a corner, and hid
his face with his hands.

It would have been amusing to an outsider to
observe the quiet and docilit with which that
lately boisterous crowd seate themselves upon
benches. boxes and barrels and meekly held up
their hands, while the raiders “ went through ’
them rapidly and thoroughly.

A few, such as Baldy, who were sure to have
nothing, were skipped in the search, and the
gleanings were so small that they called forth
exclamations of disgust. The on] “ haul "
worth speaking of was Dan Spraw ’8 money-
drawer, which he opened under the persuasion
of a revolver. Even on the person of Cornelius
Corum nothing of conse uence was found, as he
had previously conceals his valuables outside
of the building.

But the old man’s sachel was quickly broken
open, and the leader took from it some folded

apers, which he glanced at and stuffed them

to his pocket, bursting into a harsh laugh.

“I sha’n’t trouble you Santa Clara cusses
again,” he said. “ I mi ht as well shear a

olecat for wool. Santa lara is the poorest,

ryest, meanest mangiest, sneakln‘est, flea-
begotten and G ~forsaken hole this side of the
MiSSissippi, and it has got down to a thousand-
foot love beneath my notice. Come, boysi"

And Blackhawk and his band left the “ Happy
Home,” mounted their horses and cluttered
away.

 

CHAPTER X.
TURNING THE TABLES.

A nonsmmn rode u to a small tenement on
the side of a hill, at a ’stance of several miles
from Santa Clara.

The tenement might more properly be styled
a “shebang” than a house, as it was partly
shanty, an partly dug out, a portion of it be-
ing nothing more than a hole in the bill. It
had an open shutter and a broken door, but no
Window.

Behind the horseman rode a well-dressed bo ,
who got down at a word from a man in t e
ililaddle, who also dismounted and hitched his

orse.

The broken door was opened by a small and
lean man, ragged, dirty, dark-skinned and with

con

an ill favore ntenance.
“ Hi, Birch!” he exclaimed. “So ou’ve got
back at last. What sort of a kid is 5.1. you ve

brought 7”

 

"This is a young friend of mine from St.
Louis,” replied the visitor, who Was no other
than Birch Corum. “ Come in, Sim, and rest."

The two entered the shebang, and found the
interior quite as comfortable as the outside
promised. .

“ What have you got to eat, Yarrupi” asked
Birch. “I am as hungry as a wolf."

“Deer meat and corn-pone.”

“That will do. Trot it out."

The provender was not very dainty, as to
quality or cleanliness; but the two riders were
hun ry enough to make no complaint, and they
ate eartily.

In the course of the meal, Birch Corum gave
the proprietor of the shebang such particular!
as he chose tc ive of his trip tc the East. He
said that be h been “ cleaned out by the St.
Louis sharps." but had managed to “raise a
stake,” and had returned to make up for his
losses “ by honest labor.”

“ How are the ho 5 getting on?” he asked.

“ They’ve been ol’ahle quiet since you’ve
been gone," re lied Yarrup. “Afew things
has been picke up yere and thar; but they
tried to stop a stage on the valley road, and
made a mess of it and I reckon that since then
they’ve been wait n’ fur you. They’ll be livaly
enough when you it tc ’em, you may bet. Air
you goin’ to take t 9 kid over thar?"

“No; not yet, anyhow. He is a. shat lad,
but 1 have heard that he is alittle too 5 arp,
and i.’ may not be safe for him to mix with the
gang yet awhile. I will leave him with you for'
the present Yarrup. You can take care of him
and perhaps on can make him useful. I will
an you for h 9 keep, anyway.”

gains’ this arrangement Sim Brattle pro-
tested vigorously. It did not suit his expecta-
tion.“ in. the least that~ he should be kept a pris-
oner ir that dark and dirty hovel, in the charge
of such. an unpleasant person as Yen-up}.

"You promised me, Mr. Birch ” e said,
"that when I 9' out here I might learn to
hunt and kill Injuns.”

"You must have patience, young chap. There
are nc Injun: to kill just now, and on are hard-
ly fit tor the kind of hunting we 0. You had
better settle down as you are told to, and he
mflight) durned thankfu that you are no worse
0

Bird. Corum rode away, after some whispered
conversation with Yarrup, leaving Sim Brattle
sulky and discontented.

A1 Siir had foreseen he was not likely to
havt a pleasant life,with Yarru , and he soon
made up his mind that he won] not endure it

lon .

The proprietor of the shebang ordered him to
talu oil is coat, relieved him of the little
change he had left, led him out of doors, and
set him tc chopping wood, a s ecies of work to
which Sim was not accustome .

Yarrup lighted a pipe and sat down to over-
see the each. at the same time favoring the
lyoung 1 CW with a lecture or his position and

utieb

" Ah you’vr~ got to do is to mind me,” said the
lecturer. " It you. don’t mind me, there’s trou‘
blt ahead far you. I’ve heard that on was a
leetlv toc sharp far some folks at St. uis; but

5...,

 

 

80

 

 

you‘ve come‘to a kentr whar that kind 0'.

sharpness don’t- count. on don’t gc out no-
whar, ’ceptin’ along 'ith me, and you’d better
remember, all the while, that a rifle-hull kin
travel a powerful sight faster than you kin, and
I’m told that it won’t make much differ of you
should happen to git knocked over. So you see
it Won‘t do to try to run oil. EC you should
happen to git loose, whar’d you go to? This is
alone wild kentry, and thar’s b'ars nn’ wolves
an' Wildcats till you cain’t rest."

Sim rdmembcred that he had ridden a consid-
erable distance in that region without seeing
any such menagerie beasts, and he was not
afraid of them. He had a wholesome fear of

gstting lost in the hills, and did not doubt that ‘

arrup would be willing enough to send a hul-
let after him; but he was strong in the deter-
mination to escape when he. could see his way a
little clearer.

After a wretched sup er. a rough. night’s
sleep on a bare floox, an a very poor excuse
for breakfast, this determination became
stronger In addition to his desire to “ make it
bo‘ ” for Augustus Ames and his wife. he. wanted
to “ get even” with Birch Corum. who had put
him in such a hole and such company.

His determination became a settled intention
shortly after that bad breakfast.

He was ordered tc gt out and cut some more
wood; but he grumbled, and hesitated about
obeying. Yarru; picked up a piece 0t rawhide
lariat and shook it at him.

“ arrup rhymes with larrup,'- he said, " and
you’ll ketch it ef you don’t mind."

Sim inwardly resolved that if that man should
strike him, he would never rest until he got
ever; but he thought it best to choke down his

tern r and wait unti.‘ his turn came.

“ l of! your coat i" ordered Yarrup.

As Sim started to obey this order he ed d
toward the corner in which he had seen ar-

rup’s rifle standing. He knew that it was
ca ped, and presumed that it was loaded.

be next instant he grabbed the rifle, cocked
it. and aimed it at his ragged and dirty jailer.

“You durned fool!" exclaimed that individ-
ual. " If- ain’t loaded!” I.

" That’s the very kind that always kills folks,"
replied Sim, as the idea flashed across his mind
that it it was not loaded Yarrup would be sure
to make a rush and seize it.

But Yarrup did nothing of the sort, and
seemed tc be strongly disinclined to gaze at the
morale of the weapon.

" Walk straight out of here, now.” ordered
Sim, “and point your toes toward Santa Clara,
or I’ll blow a. hole right through you.”

“ You wouldn‘t- really shoot me, would you?”
asked thr owner of the ride, as he edged away.

“ Wouldn’t I though? You can just bet your
last rag I would. I tell you, old seed, I’m des-
prit, and I mean business all the time. I’m

goin’ to git out of this scrape if it takes a
funeral. March right along, or I’ll shoot as
quick as winkin’.” I
It needed but a glance at the lad’s determined
face to show that he meant what he said, and
that ho was dangerous. Yarrup backed out of
the door. 1

    

Smart Sim, the Land with the Level Head.

 

“Won’t you please shut up the house, young
gen’tleman. ’ he asked, as Sim followed him.

“Shut nothin’l There ain’t a cent’s worth to
steal, and no white man would stick his head
intc that hole if he could help it. You just
turn square around and march toward Santa
Clara, or you‘ll git a dose.”

“ Santa Clara is over so fur from here,"
snlkily replied anrup, m. be obeyed this order.

“ I don‘t care how for it is. Point your nose
in that direction, and fl How it right along!”

anrup scrambled down the bridle—path that
led to his hut, and took a westerly course, Sim
Brattle keeping at a distance of about ten paces
in his rear.

Every now and then the leader partly turned
or looked over his shoulder, and ever time he
saw the lad’s eyes fastened on him, an the rifle
aimed at him.

He was getting uneasy, and the weapon in
the boy’s hands made him nervous.

“ 1 wish you’d ’int that thing some other
we ." he said. ‘ It mought go off.”

‘ You said it wasn’t loaded," replied Sim.

“A gun is danger’s, some folks say, without
lock, stock or harm], and I reckon you hain’t
been used to foolin’ with weapons."

“You had better not bother me, then, or do
anythin’ to startle me, or you’ll be to blame for
the. accidents."

“You mought let the hammer down, any-
how. ’Tain’t no use to keep the gun cocked."

Sim considered this point, and thought he
might, grant the request.

“ I will let it down,” he said; “ but I can lift
it a sin as quick as you’d so snap. So you
had tter mind your eye, an keep your nose
pointed for Santa Clara.“

Yarrup ltd the we. by a faint bridle-path
that seemed to lead 0 nowhere in particular,
exce t that its general direction was westward,
and but took the travelers down hills and up,
but mainly up, thron h ravines and gullics
where Sim was oblig to mind his steps and
carry his rifle carefully. But he never failed to
keep a watchful eye on his leader, and to be
ready to draw a head on him if there should be
anylsign of treacher .

hen this sort 0 work had continued more
than an hour, and there were still no indica-
tions of reaching anything that looked like a
settlement, Sim began to grow uneasy.

“ Are you takin' me toward Santa Clara, you
dodrofted old seed ?” he asked.

“ Of course I am, ” gruflly replied Yarrup.

“Itdon’t look as if we are ever goin’ to gif-
in si ht of anywhere.”

“ ‘m a-doing the best I kin.
to Santa Clara.”

“ I want you to strike into the big road."

It’s a long way

 

" This is the highest way to the big road,” re-
plied Yari'up, and he began to whistle.

“ What aref'ou whistling for 3" demanded Sim.

“Reckon want to do suthin’ to pass the
time. ”

Sim was suspicious of the whistling; but he
did not perceive that he had any good excuse
for stopping it, and it went on until something
else happened.

Three men suddenly sprung out from among

    
 

 

i.
l
l
a

. Be!
a look
Thi
into a

‘ men

n 1
Bircl

Br

1 it
’1:

lo
if

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VUU—w‘vn'D‘ 05:;

Smart Sim. the Ladgwith the Level Held.

81

 

the rocks and Sim Brattle was seized from be-
hind and disarmed.

Before him stood Birch Cor-um, with a puzzled
look on his face.

Then the lad knew that Yarrup had led him .

into an ambush, and had whistled to call up the
men who captured him.

CHAPTER XI.
LIFE on DEATH.

“ WHAT doss all this mean, Yarrup?” asked
Birch Corum, looking from Sim Brattle to the
man in whose keeping he had been left.

“ Yoi jest take that young rattlesnakr inside,
and I’ll tell you all about- it.’

Sim was led through an opening in t1“ rocks
to a lar 6 hole that proved to be the entrance to
o consi erable cavern.

Inside, under the arched but irregular roof of
stone, was quite a comfortable arran ement of
blankets, skins and rude articles of urniture
with a variety of weapons, utensils and miscel-
laneous articles. Five men were sitting or
lounging about in the cavern, besides thosr who
came in with Sim.

The lad was seated in the midst of them, and
Yarrup had told how his young prisoner had
captured him, and how he, in his turn, had
turned the tables on his driver by leading bin.
into an ambush. There werea few exaggera-
tions in this narrative, inserted for the benefl‘
of the narrator; but it was, on the whole, a
reasonably fair account of the transaction.

It was listened to with occasional bursts of
lau liter, and now and then an up recativa
oath; but Birch Corum found himsel divided
between an inclination to be amused and a de-
sire to be angry.

“ I told you, Yarrup,” he said, “that the boy
was a sharp one, and your story roves that h!
was much too sharp for on. ehas earned
the right to be quit of you if sharpness is worth
anything; but it seems to me that he is just a
little too sharp to live."

"The on’y we I could keep him ’ud be by
slittin’ his windpipe,” remarked Yarrup. “ Noth-
in’ short 0’ that ’uu keep him from runnin’

awav.”
ing to get to?”

 

“Where was be t

“ Why to Santa C are.”

“ Grea snakes! he would have starved to
death there, ridging by the last view I had of
the old hole.’

Sim begar to believe that he had got into .
bad box. and thought it high time to put in a
word for himself.

“ I only asked him to take me toSanta Clara,”
he said “because I thought I would find you
there, Mr. Birch.”

This statement was a. little too much for

arru .

“ Eighat ain’t the cheekiest young riptyle that
ever was foaled,” said he, ‘ may I never see
ho an’ hominy ag’inl”

uch an assertion on the part of Yarrup was
considered as having the force of a solemn oath
and the feeling was decided] against Sim.

“ It’; a fact, though,” the diiisisted. "You
told me, Mr. Birch’, that I might learn to hunt
and to kill In juns.’

“I told you. you young imp. that you must

 

have patience and stay with Yarmp. But here
you are, and the question is, what shall we do
with you! You could never do us the least bit
of good, and the chances are that you might
dousa heap of harm. It is my opinion, as I
said afore, that on are ’most too sha tr live.”

This speech, a though apparently directed to
Sim Brattle, was in reality addressed by Birch
Comm to his comrades, and it was received
quite too favorably for the lad’s peace of mind.

“ Thar’s on’ one thing to be done with him,”
said Yarrup, ‘ and that is to strangle him."

“We must get at the sentiments of the party
on that subject_” remarked Birch. “ Gentlemen,
here’s a oung rattler that has got into the
wrong be e, and the question is, what shall we
do with him? There’s no chance for half-way
measures with such a sna pin’ turtle of a cir-
cumstance as this is. e have either got to
keep him, or make an end of him. Yarrup says
that the easiest and surest trick will be to
strangle him, and that is my opinion, knowing
the young, rapscallion as I do. and knowing that
he won’t e missed by those who sent him out
here. But I will put it to a vote of the party."

“ Ain’t I allowed to say a word about this lit~
tle amel” inquired Sim.

“ ot a twitter. Now, gentlemen, all who.
are in favor of twisting the neck of this bantam
will signify the same by saying ay.”

The ayes were vigorous enough.

" Contrary, no."

The noes seemed to be as numerous as th. ayes
though not so noisy; but Birch at once deemed
in favor of the a es, and the prospect for Sim
Brnttle was a dar one.

“ I ain’t sure, Cap, that that’s a fair vote,"
said a tall and aunt man, who seemed inclined
to take the l s part. “1 call for a. standln’
vote.”

This was held to be a parliamentary proceed-
ing, and those in favor o Sim’s immediate exe-
cution were directed to stand up.

Five men stood up, including Yarrup.

A call for the other side brought only four
men to their feet.

“ Decided dead against the young scamp."
said Birch. “I hope Cimmarone Joe is satis~

e H

“ I ain’t, though,” exclaimed Sim. pointing at
“ Did that old seed vote?”

“ Yes, he voted.”

“Well, gentlemen, I guess I’ve got ever}7 bit
as good a right to vote as he had, and I vote—
no '

He jam d up and boldly ranged himself by
the side 0 his supporters. ' ' .

This piece of audacity did not fail to BXOliA‘
the admiration of the rough men for who-u
benefit it was intended, and a murmur oflnp-

lause drowned the savage remark that Birch
orum began to make.

After all, he was but one member of the band,
though the leader, and his veice went for no
more than another in a councri of war. _The
point was freely discussed, and it was decided
that Yarrup, being actually an outsider though
in some respects an assistantto the ban ,had no
better right to vote than the prisoner had. _

“ We stand four to four, then,” said Birch.
" W: s tie. and how are you coins to settle it!"

 

 

   
  
  
   
 
      

Smart Sins. the Lad with the Level Head.

 

“I'll tell you what tod‘o, Cap,"suggested Cim-
msrone Joe. “ Supposin‘ you let me buy the
youngster.”

“Buy him? What do on mean!”

“Buy his life of you. ’ll shoot for him, any
wa fiou want.”

‘ ell, I don’t care what becomes of the cuss,
so’s I get him of! my hands, and he is fixed to do
noharm.”

“ If I win him, Birch, I’ll engage to keep him
safe and sure.”

I “ You mi ht as well engage to take care of a
kicking m e or a. bucking broncho. Have it
your own way though. I will give you a. chance

or the chap, if you will shoot on my terms, and

it the "game is agreeable to the rest of the

l)“l‘Itaihat’s your terms, Ca i”

“,That you shall shoot a elf-dollar out of the .

chag’s fingers, ata hundred ste s. The boy to
bee against a tree, and to hol the half dollar
so’s it just fairly shows above his head.”

“That’saroufh deal, Cap considerin’ what
kind of a mark ’ve got; but Ican do it, if the
boy will hold steady.”

‘It is settled, then, if the comgan has no
objection. You shall shoot for t 9 go , and
may have him if you win. If you lose, _ arrup
ma take him and twist his neck.”

‘ ou bet I’ll hold steady,” said Sim, entering

totha spirit of the thing with the eagerness
of a ho at his first base-ball match.

He d d not entirely comprehend the arrange-
ment that had been made, but perceived that
his life, if not his liberty, was to depend upon
the marksmanship of Cimmarone Joe.

He was soon to learn that this was not the
only risk in the venture, but his life was more
immediately in danger, as there~wa a
stronmghahance that a. miss shot might kil him
on

The entire compan left the cavern, and de-
, soended to a shade and quiet valley, where
, Cimmarone Joe selected the tree that was to

serve as a backing for his mark. From this
tree a hundred paces were stepped off in the
direction which he pointed out.

He then led Sim Brattle to the tree, and
_ placed him with his back against it.

“I reckon I had better tie yor’u,” he said, “to

, keg) you as steady, as M10.
, I 0

passed a leather strap under the lad’s
arms, and belted it around the tree securely.
’ “Ihope you ain’t in’ to kill me,‘ mister,”
said Sim, looking at wistfully.

“ I want to save your life, youngster ” was
the kind reply, “ and you must help me all you
can. Imean todo my best; and my best is as

as any other man’s; but the shot is a

' _ pgemusone, and you ought to. know that.
~ » Take this half dollar, now.”
" Sim took the coin, and held it with his thumb

I and r ssJ’oe directed him, so that the
\ lower gs was about even with the crown of

hishead.
- “ “Yourlifede dsonthis,”saidJoo,“and
' allyouhaveto oistohold that halfdollar
steady. Canyoudoitl" ’
“Igusmthat’lldotobeton,"roplled Sim.

 9m Jammymm ..
‘ "f, generations»,me Don't

      

retty »

i think of anything in the world, now, but hold-
in’ that halll dollar just so."

Cimmm‘one Joe walked to his station, and ex-
amined his rifle carefully.

“I mean to have fair play here, or thar’ll be
trouble.” he said, looking around at the by-
standers. “If any man makes a noise. or stirs
so as to bother me, let him look out for him-

, self. 1 mean this warniu’ partic’larly tor Yar-

m I”
3 I’ll look out fur our side of the game, J on,"
[ said a stalwart six- ooter, as be cooked his ro—
, volver.

The marksman raised his rifle, and took a
careful aim. The boy stood like a statue against
the tree, and the sharpest eyes could not detect
‘ the slightest motion oi the com, or the least

quiver of his fingers.

The report of the rifle rung through the val-
, ley, and Sim uttered a sharp cry as his hand
i dro ped down.

. “ {0’s brained him!” shouted Yarrup, point-
’ ing eagerly at the patch of blood on the lad’s
‘ forehead.

“The boy is mine,” replied Cimmarone Joe,
as he walked leisurely toward the tree.

The bullet had chipped of! the tip of Sim’s
finger, had sent the coin spinning, and had
bedded itself in the tree. Afters search the
battered half-dollar was found in the leaves.

“ Iho you are all satisfied,” said Cimmarone
Joe, as e unbuckled the strap.

“It was a good shot,” said Birch Corum.
“ and I may say for the youngster that he
earned his li e b the nerve he showed.”

All seemed to satisfied, except Yarrup. who
sulked and said nothing, and all returned to the
cavern.

Cimmarone Joe took Sim into the back part
of the den, where li ht came in throu 'h a rift
in the rock, and ti up his finger, at t 0 some
time administering a little lecture to him.

“You are my boy now,” said Joe, “ because
I saved your life. ”

“ I know that," replied Si , and his tone and
manner showed that be ap eciated the fact.

“I have won on,” continued Joe; “but you
helped to lay t e game, and I know that that’s
good stu in you. You are a smart lad, but I
am told that you are a little too sharp. What
I want is that you shall be just shag; enough,
and then ou’l keep out o’ trouble. on must
go eas a ut these diggin’s, and don’t be too
darn brash. Mind what I tell you, and don’t
light out 0’ this until I 've you leaye, and
you’ll be all hunky. I’m inder ’sponsxble for
you, as you know, and I want on to stick to

he line I lay down, and you’ allers find a
friend in Cimmarone Joe." _

“ Am I goin’ to learn to hunt and to kill In—
jnnsi” asked Sim. . '

“I’ll teach you to shoot, and when I up
into the Gunnison country you’llfind June
enough, and mebbe a little too plenty.”

CHAPTER XII. ’

SANTA CLARA 0N rm: WAR-PATH.
Wm Birch Cor-um, otherwise known as
Blackhawk rode awa with his band from

 

 

'./ . l ‘ “ ' fink,

Dan S rawl’s “ Happy ems,” no attempt was
made pursue them. ‘ ' V

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{11'-

“,In
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Smart Sim, the Laduwith the Level Head.

 

 

There was a general feeling of relief when
they were one, and the citizens of Santa Clara

burst out n a. tumult of indignation. Their
anger, however, was not caused by the losses
the had sustained or the indignities theg had
suflgred at the hands of the raiders, but y the
slight that had been put upon the town by
Blackhawk in his parting speech. They could
stand anything but an insult to their beloved
burgh.

Bill Yards, emer in" from his concealment
under the counter, s 05k up Cornelius Corum,
who had been dazed by the occurrence, and the
old man slip ed out at the door to look after his
valuables. e found them safe, and restored
them to his person.

As he re—entered the room, he was saluted by
the landlord.

“That was Birch Corum,” said Sprawl.
“ Why didn‘t you ketch him?”

But the old man was examining his sachel
which the raiders had rummaged, and his an-
swer was a bowl of wrath.

“They have carried ofl.’ my warrant, my re-
quisition!” he exclaimed.

The crowd burst into a roar of laughter, led
by Dan S rawl.

“I’m ad to find suthin’ to lau h at," said
the land 0rd, “and that’s the best oke of the
season. That a man should come and steal the
warrant that calls for his arrest is a little too
rich for every day victuals. He knew what it
was, stranger, and he and his pards are havin’
a joll circus over it, you bet!”

“ I it is of no more use to him than it was to
me, be is welcome to it,” said Mr. Corum, after
a moment’s reflection. “I could do nothing
with it in this country.”

“That’s a solid fact, old gentleman. If
you can’t get him without a warrant you
can’t get him with one. That’s plenty 0’ folks
would be glad toput the’r clutches on him, with
out a acre of writin’ or a word from a sheriff,
and woul strin him up on sight of he’d give
’em a chance. I you’d offer a. reward, I reckon
he’d give himself up quick, and then would
take himself of! as soon as he’d got the mono ."

Cornelius Comm, who had not conceive a
high respect for the men about him, declared
that no people who had a proper care for their
own safety and that of t eir propert , would
permit such arascal to roam about t e coun-
try,]plundering and murdering as he pleased.

‘ ook a~here stran er,” said the giant, who
had announced himsel as Bob Slater. “The
less chin music 0’ that sort on give us, the bet-
ter fur your Wholesome. e know our faults
an’ failin’s, but we don’t allow any old smoked
herrin’s of your size and built to go about pick-
in’ flaws outen us. Regardin’ Blackhawk and
his pards. the time has come fur the solid
citizens of Santa Clara to do suthin’.”

A murmur of applause, not loud, but deep,
showed that the giant was giving words to the
prevailing sentiment of the crowd.

“ We are long-suflerin’ an’ slow to anger, as
the Scripter says," he continued; “but thar’s
some thln we can’t an’ won’t stand. We’ve
stuck to auto. Clara through ood times an'
bad; we’ve knowed its ups an’ owns; but we
never yet struck each a low level that we wasn’t

readyto everlastineg go fur the ha’r of any
high-headed galoot or set 0’ shee thieves who
dar’d to tell us to our faces that note Clara. in
the driest, dirtiest, meanest, mangiest, sneak-
in’est an’ most God-forsaken hole this side 0’
the Mississippi. "

“That’s sol Hurray fur Slaterl" shouted
Baldy, and a. chorus of yells and ejaculations
declared that the giant had struck the right
lead this time, with no shadow of a doubt.

Other speakers followed Slater, and the bur-
den of their remarks was that the people there
present might submit to being bullied. plun-
dered and driven over; but an insult to the
dignity of Santa Clara was something which
they could not and would not endure, and for .
which nothing but blood could atone.

Having settled this point, the proceeded to
discusst e ways and means of heginning and
carrying on the cam sign, and here they found
themselves, as Bob later expressed it, “ up a
stum ."

They could not agree upon a leader, and they
felt the need of some men who were personally
interested in hunting down the outlaws.

“If Dick Ames was here,” said Slater, " we
mought make a start tol’able suddent.”

“Who is Dick Ames?” asked Mr. Corum.

“A young man who n-anages the Kingpin
Ranch, up on the Ferida range. He's gone to
St. Louis to see his folks.”

“I know him,” spoke up Bill Yards. “1
saw him in St. Louis, and he’ll be comin’ along
right soon, if he ain’t out here a’ready.”

“Bully far you, hub!” exclaimed Slater.
“ Seems like you are bound to git in on time,
all the while. He is a right eert oung feller,
is Dick Amos, and Mr. Lum e , w o owns the
Kingpin Ranch, has told him 0 spend what he
pleases to clean out Blarkhawk and his buz-
zards. He’ll be glad enough to jump in, when
he knows that Santa Clara has took holt of the

“ That’s ist the game he wants to chip into,”
remarked ill Yards.

A horse stopped at the “ Happ Home,” and
the next moment Dick Ames entered the bar-
room.

Attired in a blue flannel shirt, heavy cor-
duroy trowsers tucked into tall boots, and a
broad felt hat, with a belt that held two revol-
vers and a knife. he was quite different in up
Bearance from the neat young gentleman Bill

ad met in St. Louis, but was no less a fine
specimen of fresh and vigorous manhood. '

He greeted heartily all who were present,
and fastened on Bill ards at once.

“ Here you are, Bill. my boy,” said he. “I
am glad to see that you are right side up with
care. Have you heard anything of eit er of
our birds?”

“ One of ’em struck this town a while ago,
and struck it pretty hard,” replied Bill. “ But
these gen’lemen can tell you more about that
little tea party than I can. ’

The men of Santa Clara were quite willing
to tell the stor , and Dick Ames wass dily
informed of al the facts connected With the
recent raid, and of their intention to awake
from their lethargy and punish the “ soothlesl

 

  

/,

~.:».:‘; a. :w7wweave“‘azw Won ~ . ' .  e '  »- r w

Smart Sim, the Lad with the Level Held.

 

 

   
   
   
   
  
    
  
  
   
   

insulters" who had given such a shock to the
- dignity of Santa Clara.

‘Im glad to hear that you are going to
work in earnest at last, he said, “and hope
you will stick to your good resolutions. 1 am
. ropose to start on the trail as soon as

Kingpin oh, and Santa Clara ought to fur-

nish a dozen. If any money is needed, Mr.
Lumley will an ply it.”
0 It was agree
. -. at an early hour the next mornin , and Dick
Amos inuted Bill Yards and Mr. rum to ac-
, comps y him to his ranch. an imitation Which
.' . they g adly acce ted, as Bill delighted in the
company of his riend, and the old man was
not at all desirous of spending a night among
” the rough population of Santa Clara.

They were obliged to be up and away long
before daylight in the mornin -a necessity
that was very disagreeable to
“ nuts "to Bill
fairly launched on a career of adventure.

When Dick Ames and his party reached the

,of whom were sure that the ought to count.
. H " The force was provision and ammunitioned
. for a possible campaign of several days. Dick
' Ames was chosen as captain and Bob Slater as
t. lieutenant, and they set out for the hills, leav-
wing behind Cornelius Comm, ’who was not in-
’ clined to undergo the dangers and exposures of
the expedition.

’They were destined to have better luck and
' an easier time than they e cted.
Shortly after noon they be ted for dinner, and
' Baldy and another set out on foot to scout
around their temporary camp, and make sure
that the coast was clear of enemies.

Soon they came running back in a state of
» high excitement, and the story they told raised
a similar excitement in the camp.
' Theth ascended a ridge a. ew rods away,
and from its crest had looked down into a ra-

quite as keen on the scent as any of you, and ,
possible. i
will bring eight men, well armed, from thel

that the start should be made '

 

r. Corum, but :
Yards, who regarded himself as ‘

3 “Happy Home,” they found the Santa Clara 3
battalion ready to move, making twenty men I
i in all. not counting Bill Yards and Baldy, both ‘

 

"vine where they saw three men eating and

   
  
  
   
  
  
   
   
 
   
   

them.

* ‘ .One of these men, they were willing to swear,
“‘ was Birch'Corum, otherwise kDOWn as Black- -
hawk, andlthe others must bemembers of his

‘Elated by this unexgected good fortune, Dick ‘

Ames and the Santa lsrans at once took mea- .
three to eflect the capture of these wandering
outlaws.
1 After gating the greater portion of his men
so/that‘ eycommanded three sides of Birch
Comm’s camp, Dick Ames made a circuit with
the rest, and reached the opposite side of the"
"vine. The arrangement was that when he
gotin position the others should close in on the
cam , and he would summon the party to sur-
re er. »

. Thisplsn was carried out successfully. The
party-in the ravine had finished their dinner I
and wereen ng themselves with their piEes

 bottles. when e stone at

drinking, their horses picketed and feeding near .

i brought away from
,Brattle.”

. uietly and obedientlg.
ii Biro Comm seemed to be ad-

down from the ledge at his right attracted
Birch Corum’s attention.

He umped up, reaching for his rifle, just as
Dick mes hailed him from the ledge.

“Drop that, and throw u your hands!” or-
dered the young leader. “ cu are surrounded
by twenty-five men, and there is no use in try-
ing to resist.”

irch Corum looked around, and saw that he
was covered by rifles from both sides of the
ravine, while armed men were advancing upon
him from the right and left.

“ All right i” he said. " We’re your mutton.”

There was one of the pahrz'ltg of three who did
not think so. Perhaps he not been drinking
as heavily as his companions. He (lashed away
and was soon lost to si ht among the rocks and

Bushes, though severe shots were fired after V

m.
“ I don’t know who you are or what you
want.” said Birch, as his ca tors closed in upon
him. “ If you want to go t rough us, you will
be welcome to all the money you find.”
“ That is not the sort of game we‘ are play-

ing,”replied Dick. “I believe you are Birch I

Corum.’

“That’s my name, for a fact. Anything
against it?”

“ A little. You also go by the name of Black-
hawk.” ,

“Not if I know myself. The name I was
christened with is good enough for me.”

“You were in Santa Clara esterday, and
robbed a number of men at the ‘ appy Home.’"

“ Not much. I reckon you have got the
wrong pig by the ear, stranger. I‘m a poerbut
honest miner, and so is my partner here.”

“We are goin to take you to Santa Clara,
and give you a c once 0 Prove your character.
I assure you that ou she I have a fair tnal.”

“ That s all I as , stranger,” said Birch, as he
submitted to being tied, and cheerfully pre-
pared to accompany his captors.

Bill Yards approached this important risoner
as they were about to mount. The ad was
bursting with anxiety to learn the fate of Sim
Brattle.

“ Say, mister, w’ot’s become 0’ that boy you
hrou ht out from St. Louis?” he asked.

“ es,” said Dick, “ tell us how to get hold
of him, and we may see a way to help you out
of this scrape.”

“ I wonder who on take me for, anyhow,”
replied Birch, look g at them with an air of
childlike innocence. .

“We take you for Birch Corum. who robbed
his father of a. box of 'ewels in St. Louis, and
ere a boy named Sim

“ You are a little too much for me, stran-
gers,” said Birch; “ and I reckon we had better
ride on to Santa Clara, and settle this matter."

' CHAPTER XIII.
em IN A sonsrs.
Sm Bums settled down to his new life,
under the direction of Cimmarone Joe, ve
The prospect of “
ng even” with .
his. and still more distant was the W ct

 

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‘ “41sz a when

 

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fur;

 

7,2' ,; .s .

 vi grh

:. ,,,. in", ‘

{,4 L

:5: I». r

< vinJQlMfi. a was 

 

“ making it hot" for Mr. and Mrs? Augustus
Amos, in St. Louis- but he wastolearn to shoot,
and in time he would 0 up into the Gunnison
country among the “ njuns,” and what more
could any young fellow of reasonable ambition
ask tor? ,

But his apprenticeship was not likely to be a
vtegy pleasant experience, judging by the way
1 gen.

He was obliged to bring wood and water, and
generally to do the drudgery of the camp. Al-
though he was not yet allowed to act as cook to
the band, he was told that he would soon be
promoted to that position. and in the meantime
was compelled to wash their rude dishes and
cooking utensils.

This was not abit like huntingdeer and killing
“ Injuns,” and when Sim laid down that night,
on his hard bed of rock covered with leaves and
a blanket, he was already weary of this style of
seekin adventures.

In t e morning, when he was called upon to
face more tasks of wood-gathering, water-{eth-
ing, and washing and cleaning, he was q1..te
disgusted, andmgain he began to think seriously
of making his escape.

There promised to be nothing to break the
monotony of the morning’s routine of drinking,
smoking, card-playing, and. lounging about
with an occasional quarrel over the cards, until
Birch Cor-um announced his intention of going
out on a “cruise.” ‘ .

, “ Rations seem to be getting scarce,” he said.
“and I had better take a couple of men and
pick up a sheep or two, unless we should run
across some better game. We may take a
notion to scout around Soda Spring, and See
' what show there is for making a. strike in that
quarter.” .

He selected two members of the band to
accompany him, and told them to get ready,
while he stepped to the back portion of the
cavern. , i

v Sim Brattle happened to be in that portion of
the den, attending to some of the duties with

which he had already become. disgusted, and

_ he noticed that the outlaw chief as he passed

4 him had a. stealthy look and manner. "
Therefore he watched him just as stealthily.

‘ie saw Birch go around a point of rock into
a dark corner, where he raised a stone and
placed something under it, departing as
stealthily as he had came.

The is too men went away, well mounted,
well armed, and well provided with whisky.
wthliich the outlaws seemed to regard as the staff
0 e. .

When they were well out of sight Sim stole
back to the place where Birch had made his
“cache.” He re ed that individual as fair

me for himse , and all his doings as worth

king into.

He found the place, raised the stone, and took
out a small tin box. I
, Opening the box, he found it nearly full of
, unset stones, that sparkled in the faint li ht
. , ’ that came through the rift. ‘ He could not in g:

V “of their Worth, but was sure that they must

', very valuable. ‘

“Thotimo mar oomewhen thatwillboworth

 

' smart Sim. the Lad with the  Held.

 

l

25

f

lookin’ after," he muttered, as be replaced the
box and covered it with the stone,

In the attemoon, when the outlaws in the
cavern were dozing after their dinner and drink,
and Sim Brattle was again occupied with his
di<agreeable tasks, a great excitement was
caused by the sudden return of Slim Jim, one
of the men who had accompanied Birch Ccrum
on his “ cruise.”

He came in afoot and nearly breathless.

“ Birch is took 1” he exclaimed. “ He and
Sam Chelly have both been ohbledi”

Being pressed for particu are, he hastily ex-
plained t at the party were taking their case in
a ravine, after eating their dinner, when they
sudden] found themselves surrounded by a ,
body 0 men who largely outnumbe ‘ed them,
and who “ had the drop” on them. 6 had es-
cuped at the risk of his life, but Birch and Sam,
bein “logy ” from the li uor they had drank,
had en captured and oubtless carried to
Santa Clara.

“ Come on, boys!” shouted Cimmarone Joe
“ there are enough of us left yet to clean out
Santa Clara 1” .

In a very brief space of time the remaining
outlaws were armed, mounted and galloping
down the mountain-path that led to the cavern.

In the hurry and excitement of the moment
it is probable that none of them gave a thought
to Sim Brattle. If they had thought of him,
it may be supposed that they would have gone
Eff just the same, without taking any notice 0!

1m.

The upshot of the flurry was, that the lad
found himself tree.

More than that—he found within his reach a
very valuable package of precious stones, which
he could easily carr away. -

“I guess I wish as well take them to the
owner,” he said to himself as he turned up the
stone and lifted out the tin box.

Not that he knew the owner, or had the least
idea of finding him; but a poor excuse is better
than none, and he thought that it was right
enough to rob the robbers. -

He thrust the box into the inner pocket of his
vest, and looks about for a pistol -, but the out«
laws carried all their was he upon their per-
sons. He stufled some col meat into his coat-
pocket and left the cavern. _

Knowin the route that the riders had taken,
he follow it until he had made a considerable
descent, and then struck oil in another direc-
tion. He was not going to get caught by any , '
member of that crowd again, if he could help it.

But he was n‘ot long' in discovering that he
was in quite as bad a predicamentas anyhe
had been in yet. ‘

It was one thing to be free, and 41111156 another
thing to know what to do with his reedom,

He tound‘himselt in a tangle of mountain
and valley ridge and ravine, trees and under-
growth, where there was no road, nor even as
much as a bridle-path." He must find a settle,
ment, or before long he would urish of starva-
tion: but he had not the most taut idea what
he ught to ursne to reach the abodea of
men. He oonldj go or, the position of the sun
pretty fairly. and’he had heard that the moat ‘

 

 

 

26

Smart Sim. the Lad with the Level Head.

 

on the trees would give him a notion of the

direction in which north was to be found; but,

as he did not know whether he ought to go ‘

north or south or east or West, that small

amount of knowledge was worth nothing to
im.

There was one thing the sun told him—that ;
the day was passing. and it would soon be night.
The chances were strongly in favor of his spend-
in that night, at least, alone in the wilderness.

int this is a world of change, and there is no
telling what will happen.

As Sim was working his wafy along the crest
of a ridge, 9. man sprung out mm the conceal-
ment of a rock, who seized him from behind,
pinioning his arms, and threw him on the
ground, face first.

This was done so suddenly and unexpectedly
that his hands were securely tied before he
could begin to struggle for his liberty. Then
he was turned over, placed in a sitting posture,
and found himself face to face with—Yarrupl

There was no person whom Sim would have
been more anxious to avoid than that same
Yarrup. He hated the dirty little man, and
knew that the feeling was returned with inter-
est. He knew, also, from the grin of devilish
satisfaction on his captor’s face, that he might
expect no mercy at his hands.

“ Yere you air ag’in, you youn riptyle,”
said Yarrup, with his mouth spree from ear
to ear. “Sovou’ve been a—runnin’ off in the
usooal way. I’d be glad to know how in thun-
der you contrived to cut loose from that crowd.
But you’re too sharp to tell, you air.”

Sim was too sharp to tell, as he saw nothing
to be gained by telling, and he kept his tongue
between his teeth and his eyes on his ques-
tionol‘.

“ Seems like you don’t wanter talk,” resumed
Yarrup. “ Wal, that ain’t no odds. On’y, ef
you know anythin’ in the way of prayers, you
mought as well be a-studyin’ of ’em 11 , ’cause
you‘hain’t got long to stay in this worl ."

Sim said nothing, but looked at his persecutor
is: igflhe would be glad to have the job of bury-

m.

5 You ain’t sharp enough though,” said
Yarrup, “ to guess w'ot kind of a larrupin’
you’re gwine to git. It’ll be sech a weltin’ as
11 come within’ an ace 0’ skinnin’ you alive—
that’s w’ot it is. Yam-up rhymes with larrup,
as I told er afore, an’ now I ll prove it.”

“You ad better not do that, said Sim, "or
I will murder you when I go loose.”

“Don’t you wish you may get the chance? I
ain’t gwine to make no ha -way job 0’ this, you
young rigyle. When I it through whalin’ yer

mean string w’ot’s sit up to one 0’ these
trees, an’ that’ll be a nice mess fur the buzzards.
Lemme see—thar’s some fine hick’ry switches
ni h hand, an’ I’ll lay in a stock.”

arrup walked away alittle distance, not go-
ing out of sight of his victim, out several strong
and lithe hic ory wands, and returned,trimming
them carefully as he came.

“Lemme see now," he said, as he looked
down at the lad. “ I reckon I’ll hev to change
this young rl tyle’s hands, an’ tie 'em around
in front, so’s I n whale him fur all he’s wuth.”

, return to seek his rifle and his victim.

 

Loosing his hands gave Sim achance to strug- ,

f‘

gle, and he availed himself of it. But Yarrup,
who was much the stronger, had him at a. dis-
advantage, and soon tied him to suit his no-
tion, but not before the lad had bitten his wrist
severely.

“ That’s another count in the 'dictment," said
Yarrup, as he rose to his feet. “You shall pay
fur that, too, you p’ison cuss. Now to proceed
to business, as the wolf said to the lamb. It’s
a pit to spilo them good clothes 0’ yourn: but
I rec on they kin stand it as well as you kin.”

He laid his victim face downward, on the
crest of the ridge, and made one of his hickory
whi whistle in the air.

“ wouldn’t take a quarter section 0’ the best
land in Colorado for this bit 0’ fun,” said be.

As Bobby Burns has told us, “ the best laid
plans of mice and men gang aft aglee.”

There was a rushing. crushing nose in the ad-
jacent undergrowth, followed by the trampling
of heavy feet.

Yarrup drop ed his switch, uttered a screech
of terror, and ed.

A large, dark and hairy form rushed across
Sim Brattle‘s body, turning him over in its pus-

sage.

As he looked in the direction it had taken, he
saw Yarrup running away at the top of his
speed, ursued by a brown ear.

Sim egan at once to strive to secure his own
safety.

Bound hand and foot he could only use his el-
bows and knees to work himself away from the
spot; but he used these with all his might,
squirming and crawling along the ridge.

But the ridge at that point fell away quite
sharply, and Sim in his excitement had crawled
too near the edge.

He fell over, and rolled to the bottom, where
he lay insensible.

But he soon regained his senses, and dis-
covered, to his great delight, that his hands
were free. In tumbling down from the crest of
the ridge over the stones and through the
scraggy bushes, the string that tied his wrists
had been cut or broken. Thou h he had been
sorely out and bruised in his escent, and his
face and body were bleeding and aching, it was
joy enough to know that he could use his hands,
trend he hastened to cut the cord that bound his

so ..

The first use he'made of his freedom was to

ick up his feet and run. It was possible that

armp might esca from the bear, and might
It was
possible, too, that the bear might come back
that way and smell him out. On all accounts
the viciggy of the place where he was captured
was a g place to get away from.

It was near night, and he could not go far;
but he made good use of the time while daylight
lasted. When darkness closed in upon him he
crawled under a clump of bushes, where, com-
pletel exhausted, he fell asleep immediately
and s ept soundly until daybreak.

When he set out in the morning, he soon came
to a brook, where be washed himself and ate his
breakfast of cold meat. On reflection he thought
that he would do well to follow the course of the
stream, as it would be likely to bring him to a
settlement.”

a“; A  ..

.4 .4 

Smrt Sim. the Lad with the Level Head.

87

 

so, refreshed and hopeful, he went forward
again and made good time through the forest.

 

CHAPTER XIV.
LYNCH LAW.

Tan party commanded by Dirk Ames rode
back toward Santa Clara, Birch Comm and his
partner, bound and tied to their horses, being
placed in the midst of them. The capture was
a great feather in the cap of Santa Clara, and
the delegation from that town were loud in their
expressions of self—praise. Dick Amos, however,
kept a sharp eye on the prisoners, and was by no
means sure that they were “ out of the woods.”

When they were abouta mile and a half from
Santa. Clara. he ordered a halt at a point where
the read they were following passed through a
narrow ravine or canyon.

“ What’s this for, Cap?” asked Bob Slater.

“There were three men in the party we sur-
prised,” replied Dick, “and one of them got
away. Of course hehastened to carry the news
to the rest of the gang, and it may be that they
were not far off. The y are a desperate set, as
you have cause to know, and the chances are
that they will try to get these two out of our
hands by attacking us on the way, or by mak-
ing a. raid on Santa Clara to-night. It seems to
me that we had better block their game by
meeting them where we have a bi advantage.”

“ Your head is level, Cap," said later.

Dick sent all the horses and the two prisoners
to the lower end of the canyon. leaving Baldy
and Bill Yards in charge of the horses, and put-
ting two of his own men on guard OVer the pris<
oners, with directions to shoot them rather than
allow them to escape. The others be concealed
at the head of the ravine, read to receive the
rest of the outlaws if they shoal follow the trail.

iTllle result proved that he had calculated
W S? y.

As the sun was setting the clatter of hoofs
was heard on the rocky road, and in a few
moments the remainder of Blackhawk’s band,
headed by Cimmarone Joe, came galloping into
View.

They were allowed to come within close
range, and had almost entered the ravine, when
the crack of Dick Ames's rifle gave the signal
and a rattling volley flashed out from behind
the rocks and trees.

It made an end of that outlaw organization.

Those who were able to do so checked their
horses as soon as possible, and turned and gal-
lnped away more rapidl than they had come.
Three were left dead in he read, and the others
did not get away unhurt.

“ That was short and swoet," laid Dick Amos,
when he had given orders for resuming the
march. “Now our rear is safe, as the say in
the arm , and we need not fear the Santa
Clara w‘ i be worried by that gang again."

Birch Corum was quite downcast when he
learned of the disaster that had befallen his
band, and expressed a desire to talk about the
terms that had been mentioned to him by Dick
Amos; but he was informed that such matters
could not be discussed on the march, and he be-
came silent and sullen.

He was safely conveyed to Santa Clara.

l

 

where he and his companions were lodged in one
of the rooms of Dan Sprawl’s hotel. Two
armed men were placed in the room with them,
and two others at the door. As for the remain-
der of the citizens of Santa Clara, home had no
charms for them, and they rolon ed the ex-
citement by makinganighto it at t e “ Happy
Home.”

Cornelius Corum, who had been very nervous
during the absence of the expedition, was
rendered still more so by its early return, and
soon learned of the capture that had been
made.

He expressed no desire to see his son. On
the contra , he seemed to wish to keep as far
away from im as possible; but there was one
subject upon which he exp himself freely
:2 young Amos and Bill Yards, when he saw

em.

“ So you have caught that wicked young
man,” he said. “ I have long been afraid that
he would come to some bad end, and now it
seems more likely than ever. Did he give up
my iswelsl"

“ understood him to deny that he knew any-
thing about them,” replied Dick.

“Oh, but he does. How can he tell such a
lie? Have you searched him?”

“Yes; but we found nothing of the kind on
his person.”

“ He knows where they are. Make him tell
where he has hid them.”

Dick suggested that Birch Corum did not seem
to be the sort of man who could be forced to dc

anything.

“"01161' to let him go free if he will give them
11 .

But there were others who might have some-
thin tosay in regard to that matter, and Ames
coul 've the old man no hope.

Birc Corum sent for the young leader, and
offered to negotiate for the return of the jewels
and the surrender of Sim Brattle, but was in-
formed that all points would have to be settled
by the entire body of the men who captured
him, and that he would have his trial in the
morning.

The bar-room of the “ Happy Home," which
was also the office and common room of the
hotel was the place appointed for the trial,
which was to be conducted in such a. manner as
th: good and lawful citizens present should de-
01 e.

News of the capture had gone abroad, and
ranchmen came riding in from the adjoining
country to witness the roceedings. The room
was crowded when Birc Corum and Sam Chel-
l were brou ht down, the formerstubborn and

silent, and t e latter apparently indiflerent to
the whole business.

Dan Sprawl was elected toserve as judge, and
he made an appropriate speech, in which be ex-
horted the amemb agle to preserve the peace of
the county and up old the dignity of Santa
Clara- an informed the prisoners that they
should have a fair trial.

“That’s all we want,” said Birch Corum. “ If
you keep your word, we are bound to go clear."

A jury of twelve men was chosen, half of
them from Santa Clara and half from the
neighboring country. and Bob Slater volun-

 

. ,, 1",  “mint, .~ .' ._y .

 

as ' Smart sluts. mam. a... Level nus.

“‘J»"<-r.hw“‘.-  a. 4 4 ,' ,

 

2 veered to serve as prosecuting attorney. Then
‘ J dgeSprawl called for the witnesses.
D ck Amen arose to say a few words.
“ Before this trial oes any further." said he,
“ I would like to ma a proposition to the citi.
zens present. The principal prisoner, Birch Co-
mm, was in St. Louis not lon a o, and there he
stole from his father a vs no le package of
jewels, which he is supposed to have brought
out here. At the same time he brought awa y
from St. Louis a be named Sim Brattle, 1n
. whomI am interests . in fact, it is very im-
"t ' portaut to me, personally, to get possession of
 that boy. Mr. Cornelius Coruzn is now in Santa
 .‘ Clara. and I understand that he offers a reward
-‘* of one thousand dollars for the recovery of the
jewels. I can guarantee as much as that for
the return of the boy. The question is whether.
in consideration of those drewards, you Will let
Birch Corum go free, a condition that he
a shows us where to find the ewels and the boy,
 and promises to go away rom this part of the
.. loountry and stay away. I ask that this propo-
sition be put to a vote.”
. “Before puttin’ that p’int to a vote," said
H Judge Sprawl, “we had better hear what the
v prisoner has to say about it. Maybe he
moughtsl’t acoept those terms.”
v flirch‘ Corum race to answer. ,
“ “As far as anything that happened in St.
Louis is concerns ." said be, “it is clearly be-
'ond the jurisdiction of this crowd that calls
-tself acourir. If I have brought any ‘jewols
out here, that is a matter between me and the
man who has come after them. As for that
boy. I admit t he came with me from St.
.Louis, and he was gladfto come. lie is well
and safe, and angbody who wants him is wel-
cometo him. I on’t admit any sort of gmlt,
but, to save trouble, I am Willing to accept the
proposition that has just been made, and to
carry it out in good: faith." ‘
L v. BobBlater rose to reply.
The-mbstance of his remarks was that he was
opposed to every kind of bargain and sale in a
court of 'austico, such as he sup osed that court
to be. he proposition of aptam Amos,
tho'ughwoll meant, was against law—clearly
inst law—and ought not to be listened to.
ore than that—and {sore the mgr birtougbt
' his list down forcib upon a x— was
against the dignit if Santa Clara. The
‘ prisoner, if he was t e man they behaved him
to be, had not only been repeatedly ullty of
robbery and murder, but had lately o ered the
. e of Santa Clara. and the town which they
known and loved so long and so wellI—here
the speakerbecame pathetic—a deadl insult.
crimes, among which that insult s ould be

 
  
   
    
   
  
    
 
  
 
   
   
  
 
  
  
 
  
  

.. punishment. and the speaker ho d that the
cithane present would do their uty, as men
;- who had teenage to protect, us well as lives and

Bob w [speech carried the crowd. The

‘tion made b Dick Amos was t to a
339% was rejezted by a large aggjofity,
San Clara voting solidly against it.

counted, called for the severest and promptest ,

 

  
 

. ‘ were again called for, and here a
Mono diflculty presented itself. There wasI
 could identiny at

the leader of the band that was known as
Blackhawlz’s gang, and Sam Chell asamem-
ber of that gang. Nobody had t e slightest
doubt that they were what the were charged
with being- but positive proo is imperatively
demanded by the American mind, esmoiaily
when there is a jury to pass upon it. o posi~
tive proof was forthcoming. The members of
the band had always been masked when they
carried on their plundering operations, and the
face of their leader, in particular, had never
been seen. t was an accepted belief that
Blackhawk and Birch Corum were the same
person; but, after all a. belief is not a fact.
After Bob Slater had called several witnesses
who could only testify to their belief, he got

angry.

“ What’s the use 0’ fooliu’?"he asked. “ Every—
body knows who and what these men are and
what everybody knows is evidence enough for
us’

“I ain’t so sure of that, Bob,” said Judge
Sprawl. “ It is our duty to git at the facts by
legal proof, and tuur must be somebody nhnut
yet-o who kin say that Birch Corum iszhck-

awk, and theleader of Blackhawk‘s gang.”

“ I can,” said a faint but resolute voice, and
[the crowd parted to make way for this new wit-
ness.

It was a boy, whose clothing bore evilcnce of
rough usage in the woods and hills, and whom
face was pale and scarred. He was almost
breathless from exhaustion.

“It is Sim Brattlel" exclaimed Bill Yards, as
he pushed forward to greet his'friomi; and
Birch Corum opened his eyes wide as he saw
the “ young rattler.”

“ Hoorayl We’re all right now i" shouted
Bill Yards, and tears of joy came into his eyes
as be squeezed the hand of his “ pardner.”

Sim was given'a seat and. after he had rested

a little, was requested to tell his story.
‘ His evidence was ‘ust what was wanted. 6
knew that Birch orum was Blackhawk, be~
cause that individual had told him so in St.
Louis, and had boasted of the fact. He had
been a prisoner in the mountain den of Black-
hewk’s band, and had seen Birch Comm there
acting and recognized as their leader. He had
also seen Sam Chelly there.

“ Rev you got any spite ag’inst Birch Comm.
youngster?" asked Judge Sprawl. “He has
gi’n me to understand that he treated you well,
and left you safe sud sound.”

“Did he, though?” replied Sim. “It’s no
thanks‘to him that I’m here and alive. He was
for havin’ me strangled or knocked in the head
—anythin’ to it rid of me.”

As soon as t e lad had finished giving his tes-
timgg, Dick‘ Amos and Bill Yards, who had
con to take a lively interest in the trial but»
ried him ofl! to the kitchen of the “ appy
Home,” where they provided him with refresh-
ments, and made him tell his story with fuller
details. .

The tale was not com leted, when the heard
the noise of the Santa lara crowd. he jury
had easil agreed upon its verdict. and the
crowd h gone out to execute the judgment of

the court and had returned to moistentheir

perched roots. .

 

 

 

 

:3;

‘2
a.

   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

I

. Ii new

V‘said Au stus

s..-

Smart Sin. the Ind With the Level Head.

 

89 

 

When the three friends entered the bar-room
they found Dan Sprawl politelgoand symfia-
theticall informing Cornelius rum of e
median! elfth of his only son. k t 18 l r,

e give up my pac age 0 was
asked the old man.

“ Nary give up,” replied S rawl.

“ Then you have murder him. You should
have given the poor boy achanoo. If he had
had a chance. he might have told you where to
find in propert .”

“W twoul you give for that bit of pro-
perty, mister?" asked Sim Brattle.

“ oflered a thousand dollars” replied the
old man “ for their return and t e conviction
01th: thief; but now, under the circumstan-

a—

“One thousand ducats is what on can git
'em for, and not a cent less,” said im, produc-
ing the tin box he had brought from the cavern.

‘God bless you, my soul, Give them to me,
and‘I will pay you in St. Innis."

" Cash down or no trade.”

Cash down it was, and Cornelius 00mm se-
cured his precious box of jewels.

“So that wicked young man has really been
banged," he snid. “ Well. I was sure there
would be an Indian war or something of the
kind. Dear mel he is the only member of my
(amil who ever went oi! that my."

“ is father will be likely to go of! the same
way,” remarked Dan Sprawl, “ if he don’t
make tracks for St. Louis and stay there close.”

The.old man took the hint.

CHAPTER XV.
'rrm TANGLE UNTWISTED.

Ma. m Mas. Auousrus AMES were seated
in the “ palatual mansion ” of which Sim
Brattle had boasted to his friend, discussing
their position and prospects.

“There is nothing more to worry us, In
love," said he. “The re rt of the referee wi l
be confirmed by the Pro ate Court tomorrow,
and we will have a good addition to our income
for six ears at least and we need not look
ahead any further at the present.”

“ Fo’r that,” she said, “ we may thank your
sharpness and forethought in securing the boy
who so strongly resembled our dear Arthur,
and usi ~g him as you did.” -

“ We must also thank your courage and de-
cision of character, my love. Imust confess that
the b0 wasa little too sharp for me; but you
ow to deal with him. When we found
lim on our hands. and he persisted in his

 

determination to stick, as he said, I really did a

not know how I was going to get out of the
scrape. But you came to the rescue, and

I ' quietly puthim out of the way.”

“ Far enough , out of the way too,” said Mrs.
Amos. “1 do not think there is any danger of
his comingback to bother us.”:

The door bell mug, and a servant announced
the visitor as Mr. Richard Amos.

.“ That poverty-stricken nephew - of mine,”
Ames. “Really, now, I do not
take the east interest in my brother’s good-for-
nothing family, '»and they have no right to
bother me."

 

"You had better see him,” suggested Mrs.
mes. I
“ I suppose he wants to borrow money.”

“ If he does, you need not lend it to h m. We
can treat him coolly, and soon get rid of him.

Show him in, Kate.”

Mr. Richard Ames did not have the appears
anoe of a person who wanted to borrow money. .

He was Well dressed, health and hearty, and
seemed to be well fed and we to do. .

“ Dear me, Richard i” said Mr. Augmtus
Amos. “I would not have known you. Why , \
have on kept away from us so long?” V 

“ ou gave me no 8 cial inducement to visit
you,” replied Dick. ‘ At least, there was no in-
vitatiou."

“ I supposed that you were sore about your
uncle’s will; but I hope you have got over that
unpleasant feel'ng.” '- \

‘ It does not worry me at all, sir. I hope
you are satisfied.”

“Quite so, Richard. 'I have had asuflicient
allowance ordered for our dear Arthur until he /
comes of age. That is, the order will bemude .
to marrow. Are you engaged in any business?”

“I have been managin a‘sheep farm in Col-_
orado during‘ .the. past wo years, and am _
renaouably'pioepemus; Speaking at Arthur
sir, I cauedto'askycu'whether you have heard _ 
from him lately.” V l / I

“ Not for a week or so," replied Mr. Ame‘s
and his answer was strictly within the limits 0_
truth. . ‘ v

“ Where is he now?”

“ I sent him westward, on a little trip, for, f
the sake of his health, which was rather deli~

cute.” r ~ . V
“ i called to ask you about him,” said Dick, ,.
“ because some news I have brought from Col-
gaéio isnhighly important, if it should prove to; 
rue * '

“What news is that, Richard?” asked Mr. .
Amos. who was sen'cnsly alarmed by his ~
nephew’s words and manner. ‘ " 

“ Just before 1 left there I heard of the sud-
den'death of a young fellow named Arthan
Ames. At least, epassed by the name of Ara.
thur Ames, and gave that as his name before. ,
he died. I was spoken to about him on the ‘sup- 
position that he might be a relative of'mine.” »

Augustus Ames’s face grew brighter. If the.
boy‘ who had been sent away in charge of .
Birch Comm was dead, there was surely noth- K
ing more to bother him. ' ‘ ‘

“Your news cannot be true,” he said. “ If—I
Arthur had died, I'd have heard of his deathbe- H
{lore ’now from the person who had charge of

1m. ' x .

“But the boy went by the name of Arthur
Ames ” Dick insisted. ,.

“ 1 hope, Richard—though I am sorry to be
obliged to make‘ such an insinuatiou—I do
real y hope that you are not prompted in this
matter by a desire to get possessxon of "your
cousin Arthur’s property.” a .

“.I have never given any evidence of such a
desire ” replied Dick. ' -

“The web is often father to the thought,”
severely remarked Mr. 'Ames. > \ '

"You may take it uses please. sin but it

,

   
  

I
Smart Him. the Les! with the Level Head.

 

is actually my belief that my cousin Arthur
Amos is dead.

“That is enough, young man. I understand
your motive now, and I assure you that you
will not be able to practice any imposition upon
me. This interview is at an end.”

Au ustus Ames rose indignantly, and just
than t e door bell rung a ain. .

The servant announc two boys who wrshed
to see Mr. Ames.

That gentleman and his wife lookedet each ,
other, and hesitated. But they need not have 1

hesitated. as the two bo s had followed the
servant close as, and Sim rattle and Bill Yards
boldly enter the room. /‘

Mr. Amos was dismayed and dumfounded.
He did not know what to do or to say. That

t of a boy was not dead, but had returned
gsSt. Louis, and all his plans were spoiled and
his fine pro cts ruined.

His‘w1fe, owever, was equal to the occasion.
, She step forward With a smiling face,
extending th her hands to Sim.

“Here is our dear Arthur!” she exclaimed.

“ What brought you home so soon, my precious?
Your cousin Richard has been frightening us
with a sad story of our death.”

, Sim his fore nger against the side of his
nose a locked up at her knowingly. ,

“That won’t work, old lady,” he remarked.

" Why, m dear Arthur, what do you mean?”

“Imean hat I don" trust any fat woman
again in this world of sin and sorrow—not
much. That dear Arthur business has gone
glimmerin’ asthe Boot says. You shutdown
on it a little too s a , and it"svfilayed. You
"keth this b' twice th the same

a . "

“Dear mel” she exclaimed, "has the boy
gone crazy?” .

“Not this time,” replied Sim. “My head
took a. twist it while ago; but it is level enough
now. I’ve come out o the kinks, and am goin’

' in for a square deal."

“ That's the ticket for soup, Simuel,” remark-
ed Bill Yards. I

Mrs. Ames was fairly at her wit’s end.

 

“Do on understand this, Augustus!” she
asked. ‘ I am quite bewildered.” ‘

“ He understands it well enough," said
Dick. “ He understands that my cousin Arthur
Ames died some time since, and that he used
this bo , Sim Brnttle, to practice an im sition
upon t e next heirs. He understands t at Sim
Brattle was then kidnapped and put out of the‘
way in such a manner as was likely to lead to
his death. He understands that his swindling
scheme has been discovered and can be easily
exposed, and that you are both in danger of the
penitentiary. Do you think you had better
apply to the Probate Court for that order to-
morrow, Mr. Augustus Amesl"

Mr. Augustus Amos said nothin .

“Instead of doing that. you ha better come
with our lawyer to meet Mr. Brennan in the
mom' lg, to make arrangements for settling
your accounts and turning over the estate to
the rightful heirs. And I want you to under-
stand that no com romise w ill be allowed. You
must pay up in {u 1, or he treated asa criminal.
Come. boys; let us go home.”

An hour afterward Dick Amos and the two
boys were at supper in his mother’s house. The
faces of all were bright and cheerful.

“I am sure," said Amy, “ that Sim would
never have thought of doing such a thing if he
goulzlnhave supposed that we would be harmed

y 1 .
“ Of course I wouldn’t ” re lied Sim. “ It was
only a lark anyhow. but am glad I got a
chance to make it hot for that fat women on ’
Choutean avenue.”

“ If it had not been for your ‘lark’," said Mrs.
Ames, “it might have been a long time before
we learned how we were being swindled. I am
glad that you are here safe and well, and I
would like to know whet you two boys think of
doin now.”

“ captain Dick has got togo backto the ranch
afore ong to settle up things,” said Bill, “and
he says that I may go with him.”

“ As I‘ve got a thousand dollars cash capital,"
said Sim, “ believe I will ’go out there too, and
grow up with the country. I ‘ r

 

BEADLE’S POCKET LIBRARY.

 

252 Denvar Doll’s Device: or. The Detective Queen,
B Edward L. Wheeler.

253 T 6 Bo Tenderfoot: or, Roaring Ben Bundy of
Colora o. By Capt. Mark Wilton.

254 Black Hills Ben; or, lunch Jan on the War
Path. By Maj. Lewis W. Carson.

255 Jolly Jim Detective; or, The Young Protege's
Victory. 'By Charles Morris.

256 Merle Monto's Last Cruise; or, The Sea Robber
at Buy. By Col. Prentiss lngraham.

257 The Boy Chief of Rocky Pass; or, The Young
California Pards. lly Maj. E. L, St. Vrain.

258 Denver Doll as Deteclive. By E. L. Wheeler.

259 Little Foxeye, the Colorado Spy. By Oil Coomes.

260 Skit. the Cabin 130v. By Edward Willett.

261 Blade, the S )ort' or, the Giant of Clear Grit
Camp. By . C. larbangh.

262 Billy. the icy Bowr. By Col. P. lngrahain.

 Buster Bob‘s Buoy; or. Lige. the Light-House
Keeper. ByCalpl.
264 Denver Doll‘s m-

J. F. C. Adams.

her; or, Big Buckskin the
Sport. By E. L. Wheeler.

265 Billy, the Baggage Boy: or. The Young Railroad
Detective. B Charles Morris.

5366 Guy‘s Boy C um; or, The Forest Waif’s Mask.
By Ca t. Comstock.

267 Giant eorge’s Revenge; or, The Boys of “ Slip-
u Mine.” By Buckskin Sam.

268 ’l 10 Deudsliot Dandy; or. The Rio
Marauders. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

269 The uartzvillc Boss; or, Daringr David Darke.
By E( ward Willctt.

270 Denver Doll‘s Mine; or, Little Bill‘s Big Loss.
B E. L. Wheeler.

27) Ehony Jim‘s Terror; or. Ranger Rainbolt‘s Ruse.
By Oll Coomos.

272 Kit, the Girl Detective. By T. C. Harbauqh.

273 The Girl Rider; or, Nimble Ned's Surprise. By
Jos. E. Bad er, Jr.

274 Dead Shot )andy‘s Double; or. Benito, the Boy
Pard. By (‘01. Prentiss lngrahani.

27!) Fred, the Ocean \Vaif; or, The Old Sailor‘s
Protege. By Charles Morris.

276 Deadwood lick Trapped; or, Roxoy Ralph‘s
Ruse. By Edward L. V\ hl‘t‘lel‘.

277 The Idiot Boy Avenger: or, Captain Wild-Cat’s
Big Game. By Albert W. Aiken.

278 Arizona Alf, the Minor; or, Little Snap Shot‘s
Luck. By T. C. Harbaugh.

279 Colorado Jack. the Tiger; or, The Ghost of the
Trailer. By Frederick Dewey.

280 Dead Shot Dandy‘s Last Deal, or. Keno Kit‘s
New Role. By Col. Prentiss ingrahmn.

281 Ned, the Bovl’ilot; or, The Pirate Lieutenant‘a
Doom. By ack Farragut.

282 Buck Hawk. Dd-Ieetivn‘ or. the Messenger Boy’s
Fortune. By Edward  Wheeler.

W Roving Sport Kit; or, The Ghost of Chuckaluck
Camp. By Edward \Villett.

284 The Showman‘s Best Card' or, The Mad Animal
Tamer. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker.

285 Old Rocky 3 Pard; orY Little Ben’s Chase. By
Buckskin Sam.

286 Dick, the Dakota Sport. By Charles Morris.

287 Ned, the. B0 Skiizper: or, The Sea Sorceress’
Cruise. By ack ‘arragut.

288 Deadwood Dick‘s Disguise; or, Wild Walt, the
Sport. Bv Edward L. Wheeler.

289 Columdo Nick, the Lussoist; or, Old Si‘s Protege.
By Major B. B. Stoddard.

290 Rube. the Tenderl’not: or. the Boys of Torpedo
Gulch. By Major E. L. St. Vrmn.

291 Peacock Pete. IheLeadvilIo Sport; or, Hawk, the
Boss Miner. By Albert W. Aiken.

292 Joe Morey, the iglit-Hawk; or, the Black Rider,
By Jon. E. Badger, Jr.

298 Dwarf Jake. the Detective; or. Kit Kenyon‘s
Man-Hunt. By Edward Willmt.

294 Dumb Dick’s Pard; or. Eliza. Jane, the Gold
Miner. By Ed. L. Wheeler.

295 White WingI the Ferret Flyer. ByChas. Morris. ,

Grandi-

 

296 Govinda, the Tiger-Tamer; or, The American
Horseman Abroad. By Captain F. Whittaker.

297 Arizona Giant George; or The Boyees of Sardine.
Box City. By Buckskin am.

298 Daisy Doll's Dash; or, The Ten Colorado Pards.
By T. C. Harhaugh.

299 The Balloon Detectives: or, Jack Slasher‘s Young
Pard. By Harry Enton.

300 Deadwood Dick's Mission. By E. L. Wheeler.

2501 Dandy Duke. the Cowboy. By Major E. L. St.
Vrain.

302 Big Benson’s Bet. By T. C. Harbaugh.

303 The Hotel Boy Detective; or. The Grand Central
Robbery. By Charles Morris.

30! Bald Head's Pard; or, Creeping Cat‘s Cunning.
By Buckskin San).

305 Dusky Dick‘s Ducl; or, The Demon's Trail. By
Barry Hazard.

306 Spotter Fr'lz; or, The Store-Detective’s Decoy.
By E. L. Wheeler.

807 Nick the Boy Sport; or, Three Piucky Pards.
By Major E. L. St. Vrain.

308 Double‘Fisled Mat: or, The Mystic California
Giant. By Jos. E. Badger, J r.

309 Old Graybeard‘s Boy; or. The Girl‘s Ruse. By
0‘ Dunning Clark.

310 Kit, the Girl Captain; or, The Mad Sailor-'3
Legacy. By Col. ‘rentiss Ingraham.

311 Eric Fred in Texas. By Buckskin Sam.

312 The Detective RoadrAgent; or. The Miners of
Sassafras City. By Edward L. Wheeler.

313 Honest J ack's Protege; or, The Dwart‘s Scheme.
By Philip S. Warnc.

314 Clip the Boy Sherm'; or. The Two Crooks of
Montana. By Edward Willett.

315 Tom, the Arizona Sport: or. Howling Hank from
Ilard Luck. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.

316 The, Street Arab Dotective; or, Dick Dorgan’s
Double, Dealing. By Charles Morris.

31’? Buckskin Ben of Texas; or, Single Eye‘s I’lucky
Pards. By Buckskin Sam.

318 (‘olormlo Charlie‘s Detective Dash;
Cattle Kings. By Edward L. Wheeler.

319 Frisky Frank in Idaho; or, Old Sklnflint the
Shadower. By Roger Starbuck.

mo Cool Sam‘s Girl l’ard; or, Captain Dick and His
Tuxans. By T. C. Hurhangh.

321 Billy, the Kid from Frisco; or, Silver Mask‘s
Claw. By J. C. Cowdrick.

322 Fred Flyer. Detective; or, Abe Blizzard on Deck.
By Charles Morris.

323 Dead Shot Ike in Montana; or. 1162 Helper, the
Yankee Pard. By Roger Starbuck.

324 Kit, the Denver Sport: or, Thu Bonanza Miner
King. By Edward L. Wheeler.

325 Dusky Darrell the Camp Detective; or, The
Dandy‘s Daring Dash. By Edwin Emerson.

326 Boy. the Boy Cruiser; or, The Water Wolf
Wreckers. By Colonel Prentiss lngraham.

327 Ned, the Roving Miner; or, Arkansaw Jack's
Match. By Harry Hazard.

3‘28 Rocky Ben’s Band; or, Big Pete's Big Haul. By
W. J. Hamilton.

329 Dave, the Colorado Wrestler. By Maj. E. L. St.
Vrain.

330 The Denver Sport’s Racket; or, Kit‘s Big Boom.
By Edward L. Wheeler.

831 The Coast Detective; or, The Smuggler Shadow-
or. By Roger Starbuck.

or, The

 

m/
BEADLE’S P
M—‘\

OOOOOQQOQ

 

332 Dakota. Dan in Canyon City; or. Colorado Kate's
Check.- By Philip S. Warne.

333 Bootblack Ben. the Detective; or. Pooler Jim
and His Paid. By Anthony P. Morris.

834 Frisco Tom on Deck; or, The Golden Gate Smug-
glers. By George Henry Morse.

8.5 Ben Bandy, the Boss Ford; or, The Plucky
Parson. B J. Stanley Henderson.

3% Fred. the art, in Brimstone Bar Cam : or.
The Boston restler’s Confederate. By (I. L,
Wheeler.

337 Daisy Dave the Colorado Gal-iot; or. The Boss
of Dead Line City. By T. C. Harbaugh.

‘ 338 The Gold, Bar Detective; or, ’lron Ike, the Solid

Man. Bv Major E. L. St. Vrain. ‘

339 Rardo. the Boy Gypsy; or, Reckless Rolf’s Re«

. volt. By Wm. G. Patten.

340 Billy Bubble’s Big Score; or. Tim, the Tramp.
By Charles Morris. ‘

341 Colorado Steve’s Dash; or. Old Buncomh's Sure
Shot. By Philip S. Warne.

. 842 Snap-Shot Sam; or, Ned Norrjs’s Nettle. By

Bucksin Sam.

\843lMike. the Bowery Detective; or. Peleg Prancer
of Vermont. By Edward L. Wheeler.

314 The Drummer Sport; or. (‘aptain Dasher’s Droll

.Diiemma. By Edward Willetr.

8:5 Jaques. the Hardpan Detective; or. Captain
Frisc'o the Road .genl'. By J. C. Cowdrick.

346 Joe. the Chicago Arab; or. A Boy of the Times.
B Charles Morris.

31’? iddy Herbert’s Prize; or; The Girl Captain’s
Revenge. By Col. Prentiss lnzmham. 7

848 Sharp—Shower Frank; or, The Young Texan
Paras. By Buckskin Sam. .

I.“ 349 Buck the Miner: or,Alf, the Colorado Guide.

7 ’ .B Maj. E. L Sr.Vrain.

350 ed the Slab City Sport; or, The Detentive’s

v Biz Sc 30p. By E L‘. Wheeler.

351 Rocky Mountain Jon; or. D noon Simplicin on
’the War. ath. By Col. T. H. Monsrel'y.

352 New Yor; Tim; or. ’1‘ 6 Boss of the Boulevard.
By Charles Morris. ' ‘

’353 The Girl'Pil it; or, Ben; the Reef-Runner. By
Roger Starbuck.

351 Joe, the Boy Stage-Driver; or. Nick Hicken‘s
Cunning B Maj 13.1. St. lWain,

355 Texas Fran ’s Crony; or. The Girl Mustang
Rider. By Bucks in Sam. '

'356 Idaho Nod Detective; or, ’ he Miners of, Tarpot
City. By 'dward L. Wheeler.

357 Guy. the Boy Minor; or, Rocky Mountain Dill.
By Colonel Pren iss Inzmham. '

858 Jersey Joe; the Old Tar; or. the Wrecker’s

.. Protege. By Mrs. Orin James.

 859 Dandy Dick‘s Dash; or. Tue lioy Cattleing.

By Oil Comes. v

360 Jim‘s Big Bonanza: or, Jake Dodd and His

. Gang. iy W. J. Hamilton. .

361 Oregon Phil, the Sport; ,or, The Marshal of Two
Bits. By Philip S. Warne.

362 Kit, the Boolblaek Detective; or. From Phila-
delphia to the Rockies, By Edward L.
Wheeler. I

363 The Ocean Racer; or, Trusty Tom, the Tar. By
T. C. Barbaugh.

864 Fritz’s Old Score; or, Sib Cone’s Right Bower.
By Ned Buntliue. V ‘ ,
" >865 Crack Shot Hart ; or, The Masked Rider. By
, a ‘ Colonel Prentiss m.

I:

 

o c Q 0 Q Q o o 09 6666 d'oh'b‘ciofib, ,

\V/

366 Gold Dust Rock. the Whirlwind of. the Mines.
By G. Waldo Browne. '

367 Fred‘s Bold Game; or, The Cave Treasure.
l’aul Bibbs.

368 Jim. the Sport in Wake-up: ‘or, Foghorn Fan to
the Front By Edward L. ‘Jl heeler.

369 Captain Blake’s Jonah; or, Harry. the Cabin
Boy. By Roger Starbuck. r

370 Denver Kit‘s Double; or, The Giant Miner of the
Gulch. By Major H. B. Stoddard.

371 Blue Blazes Dick; or, Danger Doll of Dynamite.
l‘y T. C. Hnrbaugh.

372 'T he Sea Cal’s Prize; or, The Fla of the Red
Hands. By Colonel Prentiss Ingra am.

873 Larry O‘Lynn‘s Dash; or, Kyle, the Renegade.
By Joseph F. Henderson.

374 Jim. the Sport’s Bit: Boom; or. The Bonanza
King’s Rival. By Edward L. Wheeler.

375 Bowery Bob, Detvclive; or. Bianca. the Tam-
bourine-Girl. By Jo Piei‘ce. ,

376 l‘u'ckskin Dick's Clean Swee : or, Jonathan
Jenks‘ Still Hunt. By Col. A;t iur F. Holt.

377 The Deadwood Sports. By Limit. S. G. Lansing.

87; B'oneo Billy. the Saddle Prince. By Colonel
Prentiss lugraham.

37!) Dick. the Stowaway; or. \ Yankee Boy's Strange
Cruise. By Charles Morris.

350 Youn Dick Talhol: or. A B y‘s Rough and
’l‘umh 9 Fight from New York to California. By
Alhtrl‘t W. Aiken.

381 Dandy Bill’s Doom; or, Deerhunter, the Boy
Scout. By OllCooms.

382 WidehAwake George. the Boy Pioneer.
Willet. .

383 Wild Bill. the Pistol Prince. By Colonel Prentiss

‘ Ingraham. ' , ,

381 Brimstone Bill‘s Booty; or, Mariposa Marsh at
.liund'Man‘s Gulch By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
385 The Boy Tran) s; or. The Rougns of Demon
Hollow. By J. .Hotfman. ‘
386 The Montana Kid; or, Little Dan Rock’s Mis-

sion. By Morris Redwmg.

387 The Boy Detectives; or. Broker Blondin‘s Dig
Roi ‘ird. By T. C. Hairbaugh. ‘

388 The Pony Express Rider; or, Buffalo Bill‘s
Frontier Feats. By Col. Prentiss Ingrabam. '

389 New York Biil. the Dodger; or, Twri Boys Who
Were “Bounced.” By Edward Willett.

390 The Ticket-ovaeave's Trick; or. Spring 9111‘],
King of the Bush. “By Joseph E. L‘adger, Jr.

Ready July 1.

391 Charley Skylark, the Sport.

B. Stoddard.
Ready July 8.

A N14;7[~$HI”_EUW'!/ 1%an a].

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ceipt of six cents each.

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