Per aM wm Proprietors. BY MRS. ANNIE A. PRESTON. The work of the.sun is slow, But sure as Heaven, we know; So we'll not torget, When the skies are wet, There’s green grass under the snow. When the winds ot winter blew, Wailing kke voices of woe, There are April showers, And buds and flowers, And green grass under the snow. We find that it’s ever so, in this life’s uneven fow— We've only to wait, In the face of Fate, For green grass under the snow. Dramatic Copyright Secured by Col, E. Z. 0. Fudson. BEGUILED AND TRAPPED. A Tragic Story of New York Life. By NED BUNTLINE. ioe and Tra; ” was commenced last 1o¢ek. Ask your News Agent for No. 19, and you will obtain the opening chapters.) CHAPTER VI. “Why should I wait?” he asked, wondering that pe could be so calm while his heart was all on re. “As his widow, even if he has not made his will, I should hold one-third of his property, not less than two millions of dollars, if father is right as to the amount.” ..Alice Carlton are you a woman or a fiend ?” A little of both—somewhat mixed, like yourself, Mr. Moray. When you are completely Harry Hot- spur Moray you are partially a gentleman, some- what of a gamester, have. a tendency for drink, and would makea very fair lover, for a poor man, if you kept a rein on your awful temper.” ae Snenon. I believe I shall murder both him and you “Do you Mean that as a threat? Are you anxious to end your days on the seaffold? To hang with wae eyes and protruding tongue, from the gal- ows “Fiend!” “Murderer !—if ie had the courage to become one. But you will not murder a mouse without wu nerve yourselfto madness with drink. Harry Moray. this interview has _been useless, and you, sir, have made itso. Once lI thought I loved you; awe been your own fault that I do not love you still. ‘ _ ‘Oh, Alice! dear Alice, let me undo my faults. It is my love, my undying love, that has made me commit them. Only promise not to marry him, andI will never trouble you till lean come with riches to lay at your feet. I will go the gold mines of the far west, or to the diamond fields of Africa, and delve and toil for you, and you only, until lean give you all—more than he ean—a young, true, loving heart; & man’s energy and devotion, that will know no change. I will give all, endure all, do all that liv- ing man can do to win wealth and luxury for you.” er face softened to his earnest pleading, while she looked in his bright eye, and his flushed, im- passioned countenance. “Harry, Iam sorry for you; but it is too late. Be & man, and bear it; but i have promised him, have received his money, and I must marry him, now. In two weeks from yeaterday we will be united, and sail on the same day for Europe.” “Oh, Heaven! What unseemly haste! While I could wait and toil for years to make you happy; mIneet every danger, endure every privation, this man, old and gray-haired, with his money must buy_you, body and soul.” Good-by, Harry. I mustbeoff. The carriage waits, and I must do my shopping at once. I have but two weeks in which to prepare for a year in Europe—a. year in London, Paris, Venice, and Rome. Will it not be grand ?” “Curse me, Paris, and all Europe,” he groan- ed, as he clasped his hands over his bowed face. He heard the rustle of her dress, and he knew she was gone, and he did not raise his head. The iron had entered his very soul. He sat there for an hour, heedless of the prat*}e of little children about him, heedless of the cool dash of waters in the beautiful fountain, Yeedless of everything but his own misery. | i He did not ezise his head until he heard a voice— the voice Aa man, evidently addressing him. “Excuse me, stranger, said this man; “you seem in some sort o’ trouble, I’m only a rough son of old Kaintuck, but I took a sort o’ liking to you when I saw you playin’ so cool aginthe bank last night, and if I can help you outo’ trouble, why count old Kentucky in.” Harry Moray raised his head, looked atthe stran- er and recognized the man who had told him in lton’s faro rooms that he had lost a thousand dollars the night before, 1 thank you, sir,for your eet Denny: uy name is Retry oray,” and he handed the other his car . Idon’t carry keerds, stranger. but my name is Jim Shelby. I come of the old stock—my grand- father was gouvernor of the state when the white men were gentlemen and niggers were niggers. There’s a woeful change there now!” Mr. Shelby, I am glad to meet you. Iam rather low in spirits, but they’ll rise with pleasant com- pany and good wine. We'll make a night of it, sir, and I'll show you what New York life is!” Thankes, para! thankee. I’ve seen something of New York life already, but I think I’ve seen the wrong side of it. So far every one I have met seemed intent on skinning me out of the few thou- Sand dollars Pve brought with me!” Tl stop all such games, sir, while you are with me. We’ll go and dine at Delmonico’s, and maybe over our wine, I'll confide my troubles to you, for you seem to pet brave Px atrue man.” ins ey count on me that way over in Shelby County,” said Mr. Shelby. ‘“Leastway, what I say Pll do, bet your bottom dollar twill be done!” elieyve you,” said Moray. and rising, he started with his new found friend for Delmonico’s. The Kentuckian had never been inside of a build- ing so elegantly fitted up. and he gazed with won- dering eyes on his surroundings when they were seated at table. A French waiter approached with the carte, or bill of fare and addressing young Moray in French asked what they would have. Oray answeredin his own tongue much to the surprise of Mr. Shelby, who though a wealthy planter, had never traveled before out of his native ore soup and wine shall I order for you?” asked Moray. “You are my guest here—order what you please, I'm not much on soup, Mr. Moray—but if we must have it, let’s have tarrapins. As to wine—it is wishy washy stuff the best of it. Get mea glass of old bourbon; it has life in it. It is like a mother’s milk to an old Kentucky man!” Moray ordered a bottleof bourbon for Shelby and a pint of Delmonico champagne for himself. The terrapin soup, was brought and Shelby managed STREET & SMITH, ) Nos: 27, 29, 31 Rose St., P.O. Box £896, New York. Lacn ERAN RT, to make a plate of it disappear very quickly. Then came fish, meats and the entrees, and a fine dinner was disposed of in due time. When mone int of wine was gone, and coffee ordered in, Shelby had nearly emptied his quart bottle of bourbon and it did not seem to affect him any more than so much water would have done. x,t Ve, been used to it from boyhood.” he said. “We all drink freely in old Kentucky, but it is sel- dom you see a man drunk there—a gentleman of the old blood, never!” From Delmonico’s, at a late hour in the day—for the lamp-lighters were at work when they went on the street—the new made friends strolled out on Broadway, determined to spend the evening in seeking city sights—“doing’” New York above and below ground, by gas and lamp-light. Thus far Moray had made no mention of his pextercier troubles—they had both found some- hing else to talk about—butthe young man thought he would ry out his new found friend’s char- acter, and if he could make him useful in his future plans, he would do it. He seemed to be a rough diamond, a brave, honorable man, who had seen little of the outside world, but who was well osted up about every thing in his native state. e will leave them now, to soon return to them. CHAPTER VII. Patiently over a delicious ice-cream, some cake and a glass of sherbet, sat Mrs. Carlton at Bigots, waiting for the return of her daughter. In front, before an elegant landau, two large tho- roughbred bay horses champed their bits and shook their gold-mounted trappings, while the driver in livery and the footman talked about the beautiful young lady who was to become their mistress. For servants in some way are almost ever the first to get hold of such news,'let it be kept ever so secret among those most interested. She had been absent only ten or fifteen minutes when they saw her coming back, calm, serene, and lady-like, with no sign of excitement on her sweet, winning face. Bene as she passed the carriage. going into ot’s. “I will take some refreshment,” she said, “and then you will drive me direct to Stewart’s.” The driver and footman both raised their hats never snstany. for a sweet smile accompanied her words. ‘She is just a hangel, Sam!” said the driver. “T believe hit!” said the footman. The “haspiration” told that they came from Lon- fon town,and had heard the music of the Bow- ells. “Child, you are back soon. Your interview with that misguided young man was brief,” said Mrs. Carlton, as Alice ordered an ice and took a seat op- posite her at the table. “Yes, mamma, brief and unsatisfactory. He seems utterly demented. He will not listen to rea- son. Heeven threatened to murder me as well as Mr. Burnell!” fe must be arrested, or he may indeed attempt “No; that would create scandal and injure us. Mr. Burnell has the right idea, and a most excellent plan. He will omney two brave and experienced detectives, who will watch him night and day until we are married and have sailed for Europe. If he attempts a rash act one or other of these men will be always on hand ready to prevent it,” “That is a good plan. r. Burnell is a wise as well as a careful man!” “He is indeed! I really begin to love him, mamma! He is so thoughtful—so generous. Every day when Torderit his carriage is to call for me, as to-day. The flowers from his conservatory make my cham- ber and our parlor sweet as a tropic Paradise. To- day—so soon, to send one of those magnificent diamond ear-drops. He wrote that I should be married in diamonds and pearls. Once I thought white roses, or perhaps orange blossoms would be all I’d get. And it would have been, had I been fool enough to wed Harry money. But that is all over now. Ihaye given him what my Latin. teacher called a quietus, He must never approach me or speak to me again. If he writes, his notes will go back unopened.” “You are right, dear child. It would not be honor- able or right tosee him now, But eat your ice—it is getting late, and we must have good light to ex- amine silks, laces, and satins.” “T wilt be ready in a few moments, mamma.” In ten minutes the ladies were seated in the lan- dau, and the snlendid horses dashed with a stately trot down Broadway to Stewart’s. Soon, met by the attentive floor-manager, they were escorted to the various departments, for Mrs. Carlton had said: ‘We wish to purchase largely for a bridal outfit, and want your lowest cash prices for your very best goods.”’ Never before had either the mother or daughter had the money to “shop” with which could com- mand much attention—but now they were happy. KMA - ts uy Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1877, by Street & Smith, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C._ NEW YORK, APRIL 2, 1877. Mi ; Pt ” S 2 £ x +> § From point to point thea gbaeayious.manager took them, the best goods war ought.and paid for, and before the two en Btewast’s at twi- light, they had expended eight ont of the ten thou- sand dollars, to the very best advantage. be “We have now two thousand to_ use in having all these goods made up,” said Mrs. Carlton. : “Yes, mamma; and if it is not enough a hint will draw all I want from the generous heart of Mr. sera: there is not astingy hair in his dear old 1ead.” Ordering the goods sent home, the mother and daughter were carried home ithe princely ear- riage, and at the threshold of their house found Mr. Burnell awaiting their arrival. CHAPTER VIII. “It is too early yet to see much about town,” said Moray to the Kentuckian, “‘let us go to the shooting ery and practice a while with pistol and rifle. fter that we will look in a theater or_two, visit a fashionable concert saloon, and then I’ll go with you to Colton’s,make my expenses, and if you’ll follow my betting you shall win your thousand dol- lars back again.” “Good as wheat! I’m‘your man!” The two strolled leisurely down Broadway, mak- ing quiet comments on the ever-moving throng as they went, until they arrived at Ottignon’s and then descended to the shooting gallery, which was in the basement of a Broadway store. Here Moray found that if Mr.Shelby knew little about New York life, he did know something about rifles and_ pistols; more in a minute than Harry Moray had earned in a life-time. He was literally a dead shot, with either rifle or pistol, at longor short range, shooting quick as thought and ringing the i or striking the center of the bull’s eye every ime. Mr. Ottignon, a portly man with a good-natured face, said in his astonishment that he had never, in all his experience, had so fine a shot in his rooms. Harry Moray at once, as he said, went into training, taking advice from Shelby at eyery shot, and im- proving fast under his tuition. ; “If I had you out on our deer, pigeon. and squir- rel ranges, I’d soon makéa rifleman of you!” said Shelby to Harry. ‘“‘A man can learn to shoot by practicing at a target, but he never amounts to anything without he tries his hand on life—he must be able to cut a deer down on the run, take a squir- rel as it leaps from branch to branch of the highest tree, cut a pigeon’s head off as far as he can see it, and tip a swallow over on the wing before I call him a rifleman.” “And ean you do all these things?” asked Moray. “T’ve done ’em ever since I was able to carry a nine pound tifle; I don’t count my shooting here anything extra; we’ve girls out in old Kaintuck that can do as well.” Two hours had been passed im the gallery now, and it was time to go the theaters. : - “We'll run over to the Bowery,” said Moray. ‘‘I want to have you see the boys of New_York in their glory—the newsboys, bootblacks, and gamins of the city, and theshop and sewing-girls. who work many an extra hour so they can enjoy the terrific blood and thunder plays that the management finds most profitable. I saw by a bill to-day that Jack Studley was 0 do ‘Buffalo Bill’ there to-night, and he does it well.” They walked across to the Bowery and soon had aseatina spacious private box where sey could sean the audience and the stage as well. The boys were, as usual, full of noise and fun, and they kept the attendant policemen busy with their rattans to preserve anything like order. Every time Studley came on in his character as the “King of the Bordermen” the applause was deafening, and it rose again at every point he made in the play, showing that he was a favorite there. The Rontuskian himself, full of the ro- mance of wilderness life, applauded as heartily as any of them, and Moray quietly enjoyed the scene, almost forgetting, for the time, the troubles at his heart. The house was full—the audience compos- ed entirely of the toiling classes, who, at cheap prices, sought here a pleasure they could not afford to seek elsewhere. Studley, well supported, was in his glory, had his usual conundrums for the boys, and everything went off like lager beer at Gilmore’s a under the fostering care of the watchful police. From the theater, Harry Moray took his friend to an Qp-town concert saloon, which did not suit Mr. Shelby at all. He had too much reverence for the female sex, as he had seen it in old Shelby County, pure, uncontaminated, lovely without paint, cotton wadding, or false hair, to admire what he met and what met him so mapluehing)y. So Moray at a very early hour for him, took a Third avenue car down town, and supper-time, midnight, found them at Jack Colton’s superb table, bracing uP over a game supper, for the game both meant to play on the faro table when supper was over. : I do not. like—when I can help it-to go into de- tails, and describe the vices of our great city, there- + Fee S—- AN MMW RMAMNAIYA “God forbid it! I forbid it !—I, that man’s lawful Wife £?’/screamed a woman, rushing forward. Three Dollars Per | eae SY AY NY Mc AN oN a CAIN \\ \\ \ TDS — fore I will simply say that under Moray’s leader- ship betting heavily, Shelby not only won back his thousand lost the night before but doubled it, and Harry himself did not stop until he was seven hun- | dred dollars ahead on his lesser stakes. But when | he had won this amount. and saw how far Shelby was ahead, he drew off, and induced the Kentuckian to do the same, much to the relief the banker, who began to fear for his bank when he saw the cool, systematic calculation of the young but fortunate gamester. “I have two beds in my room at the Astor House, Mr. Moray,” said the Kentuckian. “Come and pass the rest of the night with me!” 2 “IT will!” said Moray. “And as neither of us are sleepy, I’ll tell you my troubles, and take your ad- vice when I get to your room, for you seem won- derfully clear-headed in worldly affairs, though you know less about cards and city life than I.” “All right, pard!” said the Kentuckian; and the two started for the Astor House. Seated in Shelby’s room with a bottle of bourbon, a pitcher of water, and a box of cigars before them, Moray told the Kentuckian his story and his pres- ent grief. This done he asked what he—Shelby— would do were he in his place? “T’d challenge the of cuss, and shoot him as dead as a rock!” said Shelby. “It is a State Prison offense to send_a challenge or fight a duel in this State!” said Moray. ‘He would have me arrested if I challenged him!” |. “Then he would do a dastardly act. I don’t like to see shooting done without the formality of giving the other side a chance, but if I couldn’t save the girl I loved any other way, I think I’d warn him first, so he could defend himself if he wanted to, and then pull on him: the first minute I saw him out!” “That is my idea,” said Moray. “But he is an old man, very wealthy, and popular sympathy would be sure to go with him, and its antipathy be my share. A judge and jury might hang me if the lat- ter did not ‘hang’ themselves,” _ “Ha, ha! That is a good joke. Old Prentice couldn’t haye done better. But why not follow him aboard, and fix him there? Dueling is not forbid- den in France. I’ve read that in the papers.” “But if I will wait till then he will married to the girl I love!” : “That’s so. We must break it up in church, pard. I’m with you. You are good on plans. Ser ’em and I'll see you through as sure as I’m a Shulby of a a blood!” ides “Thank you, my good friend.” “No thanks till I see you out of the wilderness, ard. We’ll swim through, luck or no luck. You’ve Bel ed me and I’ll help you. We’ll win a few thous- ands more, and go to Burope if itis necessary to skip after you put that old codger out of the way. The gal will come allright when she finds he is beyond her reach.” “T hope so, for foolish though I am,I love her madly.” “Well, you shall have her yet. Bet your bottom dollar on that. And now let’s turn in. [mas sleepy as an alligator on a mudbank.” Soon both were in the land of dreams. CHAPTER IX. Mr. Burnell had just reached the house of Mr. Carlton for an evening visit, when Mrs. Carlton drove up in his landau from _their shopping excur- sion. Alice had never looked more beautiful to him. Her face was all aglow with pleasure and excite- m ent. “Dear Mr. Burnell, Iam so glad to see you!” she cried, as she ran up the steps and clasped his ex- tended hand in both of hers, ‘I have had such a delightful time shopping. and I have been awfully extravagant. Why, Ihave expended eight thous- and dollars. But [know what I have bought is nice and good, and will last me ever, ever so long! have two thousand dollars left for trimming and to ay dressmaker, and milliners, and I know it will e more than enough.” “It matters not, little woman. You ean have all you desire.” “ Dear Mr. Burnell, you will quite spoil. me with your generosity!” she said, as she ushered him into the parlor. “Sit down, I have news to tell you. Ac- cidentally I met youn Moray on the street, and he utters terrible threats. I fear he will murder us both if something is not done to restrain him. Ido believe he has gone crazy!” “Hardly, little woman, though it would be enough to drive any one crazy to lose such a treasure as you. But to relieve your mind, not from any fears of my own, I will have him watched. I will go to the central office in the morning and arrange for a detective to shadow his every movement. Then he ean do no harm to you or me, for he will be arrested if he attempts it.” “Oh, I ae so thankful! Heis a bad, desperate young man, and since he has begun drinking, may attempt things he would not have dared to do be- fore.” “Fear not, little woman; he ean do ez no harm. And so you enjoyed shopping, did you ?’ Two Copies Hive Dollars. Year. i FRANCIS S, STREET. No. 20. earnest before. You know my poor father of late years has been unfortunate, and could not afford me much money for shopping.” “Well, we will help him along now.” “Good Mr. Burnell, you cannot dream how your kindness penetrates my heart and fills it with rev- erence and love.” ’ | _ “I am glad the love is there, little woman. To the | dogs with reverence.” ‘ : | “Mr. Burnell, is it true that you intend building a country residence while we are abroad ?” “Yes, little woman.” “Then why not let father superintend the work and see that itis done faithfully, and that you are not robbed by builders or contractors? He has great taste in architecture, and has so little to do now.” “It is a good idea, little woman. If he will, he shall have full charge.” “T will speak to him, and for my sake I know he will take every pains and care imaginable.” en you, little woman. You are very thought- “Tought to beof your interests, for kindto me. Will you have some music?’ “Yes, if you please. I love music, flowers, every- thing that isin harmony with our better natures. Thatis why I love you'so deeply, little woman.” Alice blushed with pleasure. She felt, in woman porenen thatshe could wind Mr. Bunnell “around ner finger.” She went to the piano, and the parlor rang with melody, Mr. Carlton camein, and soon after Mis. C. came to invite them all to supper, for their shop- ping had broken in on their usual habit of early tea. At the tabel Mr. Brunell was tendered cake which Alice had made with her own hand, and he rejoiced to learn, that in addition to her other accomplish- ments, she was able to superintend household uae that she could be useful as well as orna- mental. The contemplated country house was spoken of, and Mr. Carlton informed that if he would do Mr. Brunell the great favor, he would be intrusted with the superintendence of its construction. Mr. C. was only too glad to serve is friend,and prospective son-in-law, and agreed to meet him at the office of a popular architect next morning to make plans, ete. After Supper came more music, and then Alice was left alone with Mr. Burnell, to give them an oppor- tunity to talk over DEAS hpee for their marriage, and other matters. ut punctually at nine, the “early hour” lover rose and left for his residenee, buta few blocks away. CHAPTER X. _ Harry Moray and Jim Shelby had become almost inseparable friends in a couple of days. It was not strange. One was in deep trouble, and wanted a friend and adviser, The other had left his western home to see and learn the ways of the world. He was rich, ardent in his nature, and though rough, was brave, impulsive, and as he said, “always on hand, ready for a fight or a foot-race.”’. To please Shelby, Moray took a roomat the Astor, and together they roamed through the city, visitin theaters, saloons, gambling houses, and haunts of vice together. and leading a fast, wild life. But with all this excitement, young Moray did not for- get Alice, nor the day she had told him the wedding would occur. He had made up his mind,if it ; could not be done before, in any other way, he would, aided by his friend, break up that wedding- party before the ceremony could be performed, even in the church. One morning Moray rushed into Shelby’s room. It was only four days before the day set for the wed- ding, and shouted: “Hureka! old boy. I’ve hit the very plan. I’ve struck an idea which will completely overwhelm Burnell at the very altar, create a scandal that will never die, and which will make Alice Carlton only too glad to take me, and as she has her bridal and traveling outfit all ready, Pll marry her, and the European ae, with _you as my groomsman, can be taken by Harry Hotspur Moray and wife, instead of Millionaire Burnell and wife.” “What is your plan, pard ?” asked Shelby quietly. He was never very demonstrative. “Itis this. You know that woman I introduced to you the other night, who covers other business under the cloak of dressmaking and millinery, She is just as smart as @woman can be, when there is any mischief afloat. Sheis a perfect lobbyist, and ready for anything that pays. Either she, or some one she will get to do it for money, will rush into the church just as the ceremony begins, with a baby in arms, claim to be Burnell’s wife by a private marriage, forbid the bans, then faint away so as to avoid further explanations; the whole thing will be broken up, and knowing, as I do, that Alice really loves me, I can persuade her totake mein his place.” : “T see the plan—it is good, if it can be carried out. But can the woman you speak of be depended on ?” asked Shelby. “Yes; she will dare anything. do anything for a thousand dollars. I have sounded her and know what she willundertake. She will recover from her faint in the confusion, get out of the way, and that will end her share in the plot. Oh, she is cool and sharp. She has skinned more than one man.on the blackmail principle, and is ready to do it again. She’ll hold a rod over Burnell, you bet, for: she’ll have witnesses on handif_ he denies what she says.” “Well, you cantry it. I see no better plan. It will save shooting him. Have you got our passage engaged on that steamer ?” “Yes, under false names, old boy.” “That part I don’t like. I’m proud of the name of Shelby. I won’t like any other, Butif we had to come down to the shooting, I’d rather that should ; be done under another name.” | “Old boy, ’m arranging everything with an eye |to our mutual safety. I do not think weare sus- i pected at all. I have, as you advised, refrained trom all threats,and avoided any appearance of opposition. I have passed Alice on the street with asad countenance and a bow, humble now, caleu- lated to excite her pity. She recognizes me every time, and that shows that she has not banished me from her heart. I tell you what it. is, Shelby, when a woman of strong feelings, even though she be worldly, loves, that love will never quite desert her heart. She may think to form asecond love, but deep, deep in_the innermost cells of thought the first love lays dormant ready to spring into a flame when the right chord is touched.’ “T reckon you are three-thirds right, pard. Love is something I never had much dealings in, though there are girls in old Shelby County pure as pearls and ten thousand times more precious. But had we not better both go and see that woman and bring our plans to a point? Thereis not much time to spare now.” “You are right. will go.” ou are so I will order a carriage and we CHAPTER XI. It was the morning set for the bridal, or perhaps I would be more correctin saying the sun had risen on the day set for the wedding of Mr. Burnell and Alice Carlton. Very early, before he left his own chamber at his alace-like home on Fifth avenue, Mr. Burnell had eld a long and confidential interview with the ex- pore detective, whom he had kept in service or nearly two weeks. The latter had learned that Harry Horay and his now constant companion, the Kentuckian, Shelby, meant mischief—what he could not precisely tell, but that it was so serious that they had made preparations in the purchase of clothing, trunks, ete., to leave the city, was evident. To guard against all rash acts of that kind, the detective had received aspecial detail of ten veteran officers from the central office, in citizen’s dress, who were to keep so close to the two oie tee as Moray and Shelby were considered, that they eould be arrested on the first sign of any overt act. The detective had traced them in several visits to the sham dressmaker and miliner, and knowing her real character og she might be mixed up in some plan of theirs, but he had not got any clew to . ash + Sey pees See . arches of the church, every word seemed lifted up 2 Ss ca iia eae __\_