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The Best 5 Gant Library of Detective Stories.

Jintered According to Act of Conyress, in the Year 1892, by Street & Smith. in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, On
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No. 82, Srreer & Smirn, Publishers. NEW YORK, ; 31 Rose St... N.Y. 2 BP. 0. Box 2734. = 5 Cents,

ROM PALACE TO PRISON

Or, Nick Carter’s Capture of a Swell Crook.

BY THE AUTHOR OF “NICK CARTER.”

 

 

 

 

 

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2 ce NICK CARTER LIBRARY. : ve

 

‘FROM PALAGE TO PRISON;
“NICK CARTERS CAPTURE OF A SWELL CROOK

By the Author of “NICK CARTER.”

CHAPTER I.

 

A CUNNING RASCAL AT WORK. 2

A tall, well-dressed, handsome-featured young man,
with flashing black eyes and an easy manner, stopped be-
fore the door of a flat on West One Hundred and Seventy-
sixth street, New York, and saying softly to himself,
“Now for a trial of the canary bird trick,” knocked

nervously, and showed an ae tage’ face when the maid.

servant appeared.

‘Pardon me,” he said, in his sweetest, most engaging
tones, “but is your mother in ?”

Now, this maid servant was old—that is, she wa8 past
her prime, and had crows’-feet, gray hair, false teeth, and
a retreating chin—and she relished chestnuts, provided
they were goed ones, and particularly if they were well
coated with the sugar of flattery.

Therefore, when the smart young man before her asked,
‘Is your mother in?” and looked at her at the same time
with a glance in which respect was blended with admira-
tion, she blushed, then dropped her eyes, and simperingly
answered :

‘T have no mother; I am——’

“No mother! How I pity you, for I, too, am an orphan.”

She might have had her suspicions excited if he had
pursued this line of acting much further—for his voice
was beginning to grow tremulous and a sympathetic
moisture was gathering in his eyes—had he not checked
his emotion to rematk:abruptly :

“But business is business. We may be unfortunate, but
the world is cruel, and its stern responsibilities should not
be shirked.”

.“ Yes, sir,” she murmured, ae a reverential expres-
sion of face.

He awed as well as attracted her.

“You were about to inform me,” he went on, with a
loox of courteous inquiry, “ that——”

“That I am not related to the mistress of the house,”
she interrupted.

She was about to confess herself the servant, but a feel-
ing of pride that had been invoked by the young man’s
language and looks made her hold her tongue in that
respect. \

“T will summon bor” she said, instead.

He bowed, and piesently the lady of the house stepped
into the hall.

She was young, but matronly looking, and her kind
countenance expressed more than ordinary curiosity when
she observed that the ooo was handsome and per-
turbed.

“In what way can I serve you ?” she asked.

“Pardon me-for my intrusion, madam,” the stranger
began, politely, “but I am in search of § a pet canary.”

66 Oh Beg

’

a,

“The bird “belongs to my: wife, who fairly dotes on it,
To lose4it would almost break her heart, I think.”

“What a pity !”
“Indeed it is, madam,” the young man earnestly pro-
ceeded, “and if I donot recover Regina I shall expect to
find the services of a physician: necessary when I return
home.”

“In what way can 1 help you?” the lady of the house
interrogated.

“You, can help me very materially,” he said, quickly.
“for some-boys I met on the street below here told me
that Regina had flown into one of your windows. The lit-
tle darling knows my voice,” he went ou, as he coolly
walked past her and into the parlor, ‘‘and if you will
kindly permit me I will make a search for her.”

She was about to interpose an objection to this proposi-
tion, for some of the rooms of the house were in disorder,

and earnestness :

“What makes me especially anxious to recover Regina
is the fact that my poor wife is a bedridden invalid, and
the-bird has been her main solace for years. In this next
room I think the boys said,” he concluded.

The lady’s sympathies were now fully aroused, and
without the least suspicion that her confidence was being
abused she led the way toward her private apartments,
and the search began.

After every cranny and corner of the bedroom had been
peered into without success the stranger suggested that
the lady herself continue the search in the adjoining
boudoir,

The suggestion was followed > but still no bird was
found.

Other apartments of the house were visited with no bet-
ter succéss.

The stranger seemed to be terrib!ty disappointed.

His handsom®@ face was grave and sad when he took bis
leave after profuse apologies for the trouble and incon-
venience he had caused.

made an alarming discovery.

She had occasion to look for her well- filled pocket-book,
which she had left on the bureau in her bedroom.

It was gone.

She was sure it was there when she left the room at the
request of the stranger to go into the bedroom.

The man who wanted to find a lost canary was the thief
beyond the shadow of a doubt. .

. He had taken advantage of her short absence from ihe
ae to fileh the pocket-book.

All his explanations had been lies, and he had resorted
to. a plausible trick to gain an entrance to the house.

Over*one hundred dollars had been stolen.

The loss was a heavy one; all the ready money, in fact,
that the lady possessed.

The thief must be captur ed at once and made to oiey

gorge.

pearance of the canary bird fakir, and then anxiously
awaited his capture.

But no arrest was made that ae nor the next.

A few hours later the slick stranger operated in another
quarter, in Harlem. : :

Ascending the steps to a flat on West One Hundred and

 

The lady looked disappointed.
She had anticipated an interesting revelation.

 

door.

when he turned and said, ee most engauine frankness

Five minutes after his departure the lady of the house |

Hurrying out she found a policeman, described the ap-®.

Thirtieth street his knock brought an poate lady to the —

    

 

 

   
   
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
  
 

 

 

 

   
   
 
  

 

 

 

 

~ oNo. 82.

NICK CARTER LIBRARY.

 

 

“This is the fourth flat, I believe,” he said, in his polit-
est tones.
> “Yes, sir; itis.”

“T see by the sign on the front that it is to let,” he went
on, ‘and I should like to look it over.”

The tenant expressed astonishment that such was the
case, as she had a long lease on the premises.

“It is very strange,” the young man returned, with a
puzzled expression on his handsome face, “ but the sign is
there, and if you step below you can see it.”

Urged by curiosity and impressed by the respectful,
gentlemanly bearing of the stranger, the tenant of the
fourth flat went below.

The young man did not follow her.

And his eyes sparkled with satisfaction when he noted
the fact that she had neglected to lock her door behind
her.

When she disappeared from view he rushed inside the
flat, snatched a case containing valuable jewelry, and

then fled, passing the owner of the property on the,stairs

as she was slowly climbing the four flights.

She had not found the sign “To Let,” and she would ;
have spoken to the stranger and told him he had made a!

mistake if he had given her time,to do so.

His hurried departure without a word of explanation
aroused her suspicions, and she hastened to her room to
ascertain that she had been robbed.

The police were notified, but the thief was not caught.

And while the worthy conservators of the public mor-
als were striving to capture the clever robber that enter-
prising young man was engaged upon a third venture a
few blocks from the scene of the second.

From the directory in the hall-way he learned that Miss
Sarah Jones was the tenant of the top floor.

Hurrying up the stairs he stopped at the second floor,
and attracting the attention of the tenant by his loud
cries, excitedly said :

“Run up stairs, quick ! Miss Jones has broken her arm,
and needs help. Quick, for she’s suffering terribly.”

The kind-hearted tenant hastened to thé top floor only
to find that she had been deceived. é

When she returned to her own apartments all her
money and valuables were gone.

While a policeman was listening to the story of the
- third robbery a telegraph line man was operating on a
roof two doors below.

He was a young man of handsome face, piercing black
eyes, and an expression of shrewd intelligence.

After the policeman had departed with the promise that
the thief should not escape him, if he remained in Harlem,
the lineman opened the scuttle of a house adjoining the
one upon which he bad ostensibly been working, and dis-
appeared from sight.

In a very short time he returned to the roof, his pockets
filled with valuables.

Descending to the street by the way he had come he
hastened away, and was seen in that neighborhood no
more. , ’

His pilfering for the day amounted to over a thousand
dollars in money’ and about three thousand dollars in
watches and jewelry.

The next day by means of other devices and subterfuges
he increased his ill-gotten wealth until it approximated
ten thousand dollars in value.

And though many detectives and policemen were put
upon his trail not one of them succeeded in running him
down.

- Po use Superintendent Byrnes’ own words, “ He was the
cutest and most daring criminal that had ever worked his
points in New York.”

Tom Dalton was a substitute patrolman, whose beat was
in Harlem, and to him had one of the tales of robbery
been told. —

Tom was a stalwart, manly, and intelligent fellow, and
his highest ambition was to become a permanent meinber
of the metropolitan police force.

He knew that Chief Inspector Steers had glanced at his
figure and carriage approvingly more than once, and he
was burning with a desire to distinguish himself, in order
that his promotion from sub. to regular might be hast-
ened.

 

On the forenoon succeeding the series of operations per-
formed by the smart young man with the handsome face
and the brilliant black eyes, Tom Dalton was patrolling his
beat and thinking of the: bright future that would be un-
folded to his view if he could but place his hand on the
shoulder of——

His musings were cut short by the light pressure of a
hand upon his own shoulder.

He turned quickly to behold a youngish man, with a
black, silky beard and sparkling black eyes, who was
dressed in a neatly fitting gray tweed suit, and who had
a prosperous business air about him.

“Excuse me,” was his courteous, deferential salutation,
“but am I addressing Mr. Thomas Dalton, of East One
Hundred and Thirty-sixth street?”

‘You are,” answered the sub-patrolman, with a touch
of dignity.

“Who keeps company with Miss Marcia Holley, of Man-
hattanville?”

‘*Kir—I don’t see——” began Dalton, with a frown.

“You will, presently,” quickly interrupted the young
man, who smiled urbanely and disclosed two rows of
milk-white teeth in the operation, “‘for I am her megsen-

er.”

“She sent you to me?” queried the officer, as he gazed at
the stranger with professional scrutiny.

66 Yes. 9

‘‘What’s the matter? Is she in trouble?”

Honest Tom Dalton’s ruddy face began to pale as the
thought of possible danger to the buxom servant maid of
Manhattanville occurred to him.

“She isin the best of health and in no trouble whatever,”
the black-bearded young man hastened to explain. “She
has got important news for you, and as I was passing—I
am a canvasser for an art house, you must understand—
she took occasion to ask me if I would not deliver a
message to you.

“T promised cheerfully, for I was going your way.”

‘‘The message—what is it?”

Tom Dalton was growing impatient.

“She says she knows where to put her hands on the bold
thief who raised such a hullabaloo in Harlem yesterday.”

“The devil she does,” exclaimed the ambitious sub-
officer in great excitement. ‘‘Where—where is he, then?”

“Not far from here.”

“Where 2”

“West One Hundred and Twenty-fifth street.”

“Let’s go there immediately.”

“‘Tt’s not on your beat.”

“That’s so,” ruefully.

“But you can get off in a few hours, can’t you?”

“Yes, at noon.”

“Then what’s the matter with your going around there
this afternoon ?”

“Nothing’s the matter.”

“Then tell the captain all about it, and get a detail, or,”
with a meaning look, “say nothing, and slip around and
make the arrest alone. The reward——”

“Yes, Pll do it”

“ Alone 2”

“Certainly.”

“T’ll go with you, but you may take all the glory and
all the reward. I’m well fixed, and don’t care.”

The young man twirled the heavy gold chain attached
to his watch as he spoke, and gazed contentedly into
space. .

At another time.Tom Dalton might have thought that it
was rather singular that the canvasser of an art house, a.
man who must be working for a moderate salary, should
scoff at the chance of making two thousand dollars, for a
reward of that amount had been offered for the apprehen-
sion of the bold and cunning criminal.

But just now the worthy officer’s mind had room only
for thoughts of his sweetheart and the promotion that
would come with the arrest.

“You may come along if you want,” he said, with a,
patronizing manner.

The young man smiled.

“T would like nothing better,” he said, “than to witness
the capture of this remarkable robber, for if he is not
placed behind bolts and bars right off he may steal all the

<r eo

 
 

 

     

 

 
 

4 NICK CARTER LIBRARY. | a

eh :

 

 

portable property in this part of New York. I never
heard of such a cool cuss in my life, did you?”

“No. He takes the pineapple for audacity and shrewd-
ness combined.”

“But you will catch him, though.”

“T will if I once put my lamps on him.

“By the way,” he added, as a sudden thought struck
him, “how did Marcia—Miss Holley—find out that this
dangerous rascal was located on West One Hundred and
Twenty-fifth street?”

“She saw him go out of a flat which he had robbed.”

“ How did she know he had got in his work ?”

“The tenant made the discovery of herloss a moment
after the robber left the house. She ran after him, and
he took to his heels.”

66 Well a)

“Miss Holley was coming from the park, and heard the
tenant’s excited cries, and saw the fleeing man, and in-
stantly she made up her mind that she would follow the
fellow.”

“Bless her heart; she’s the girl for me. Go on.”

“Ags he turned a corner she hailed a cab, and told the
driver to follow the fugitive, but without infor ming cabby
of the character of the young man.

“ After seeing the robber enter a flat on Week One Hun-
dred and Twenty-fifth street and ascertaining that he
lived there with his wife, and that his name was Perkins,
she was driven home.

‘‘Her one desire after she had located the robber,” the
stranger went on, “ was to send word to you in order that
you might make the arrest.

“Being unable to leave her work she was obliged to
send her message, and I was chosen to deliver it.”

The alleged messenger paused for a moment, and per-
haps an expression that suddenly crept into his auditor’s
face may have induced him to carry his explanations a
little further. —

“YOU vare perhaps wondering,” he glibly resumed,
“why Miss Holley condescended to favor me with her
confidence, why she told me the man she pursued was a
noted criminal for whose arrest Steers would give his
head.”

“T hadn’t thought of the matter before,” rejoined Dal-
ton, quickly, “but now that you mention it I——”

“Of course you do. The most natural thing in the
world,” was the smooth, insinuating interruption. “Any
one with a grain of common sense would have his sus-
picions aroused if a proper explanation were not: forth-
coming. Now listen to me; Miss Holley opened her heart
because I am engaged to marry her sister, Carrie.” —

“Who lives in Brooklyn?”

“The same.”

“T didn’t know that Carrie had a beau,” was the sub-
patrolman’s surprised comment.

“She hasn’t had one for long.”

“When did Marcia learh that this sort of thing was
going on?”

“Since yesterday.”

“T saw her last night, and she said nothing of it.”

“Did she mention Carrie’s name?” asked the stranger, |
rather anxiously.

ce No. 9

“Then the matter must have slipped her mind. By the
way, Carrie had her picture taken the other day. Have
you seen it?”

6b No. 99

“Here itis. Isn’t she sweet?”

The young man with the black beard produced a cabinet
photo of a very pretty young woman with a pronounced
bang and an arch expression.

Tom Dalton’s doubts, if he had any, vanished at the
sight of the counterfeit presentment of his sweethearts
sister.

‘‘She is a beauty and no mistake.”

“She’s a corker. Beats ’em all.”

“Marcia excepted.”

“Well, Marcia is another Carrie, so we won’t count her.
But here, Dalton, this won’t do. I’ve overstaid my time.
T will meet you at one 0 ’clock at'the north-west corner of

 

Mount Morris square.”
“All right. I'll be there.”

“Good-by, then.” -

“So long.”

The young man hastened away briskly, and Tom Dal-
ton pursued his walk.

At one o’clock tne two men met at the place appointed.

After a short conversation they proceeded in the direc-
tion uf West One Hundred and Twenty-fifth street.

Stopping in front of a building devoted to flats upon
which the sign “To Let” stared at them from a window on
the first floor the young man said :

“This is the place.”

“What floor?”

“The fourth.”

“Sure it is not vacant like the first ?”

‘‘Sure—at least Miss Holley is sure.”

“Let’s go up, then.”

It must be explained that the sub- patrolman was in cit-
izen’se clothes and that he had endeavored to disguise him-
self by shaving off the heavy mustache which for years
had adorned his upper lip.

Nothing but the prospect of becoming a regular and
earning a big reward could have induced him to sacrifice
this much-loved hirsute appendage.

The young man with the black beard and keen black
eyes led the way. The door was unlocked, and they
entered the hall without knocking.

As they ascended the several flights of stairs they met
no one and saw nothing to indicate that any of the flats
were occupied.

Arrived at the fourth story the guide pointed to a door
and whispered :

“He’s in there, I’ll bet a hat.”

“What makes you think so?”

ak heard a man’s voice just as I reached the top of ERS
stairs.”

“What’s best to be done?

“Knock at the door, and if your man opens it nab him.
If some one else responds to your summons ask to see Mr.
Perkins. Andif noone comes to the door open it and
walk in; see?”

The sub-patrolman was not thick-witted, but he had
never engaged upon a case on his own haok.

He didn’t know the ropes, so to speak.

As the youre man’s advice was good, however, he took
it.

He softly went up to the door and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again and again without result.

‘Better open the door and waltz in,” suggested his men-
tor, and Dalton obeyed.

But he had no sooner turned the knob and made a
motion to push the door open, than an unwelcome surprise
greeted him.

Something heavy descended on his head, and the door
flew open, and he plunged forward to strike the floor of
the apartment and remain there.

It was some time before he opened his eyes in conscious-
ness,

There was a dull pain at the back of his head, and he
felt sore all over.

He had been sand-bagged.

As he raised himself on an elbow and looked about hits
he saw that the apartment was bare of furniture.

A sharp fear smote him as he recalled the incidents
connected with his arriavl there.

He felt in his pockets for his purse.

Gone.

Then he looked for his watch.

Gone also.

Tom Dalton arose to his feet and sta ggered to the door.

As he went down the stairs the air became blue by
reason of the profanity which flowed in a steady stream
from his lips.

Reaching the police station he informed the captain
that his career as an officer must cease.

Surprised at the honest fellow’s determination the cap-
tain asked :

“What has happened ?”

“Something personal ;

“ What will you do?”

“T have the promise of a job in Morriniana

I can’t tell. you.”

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

- tectives.

 

No. 82.

NICK CARTER LIBRARY. © 5

 

 

“To do what?”
“Say nothing and saw wood.”

CHAPTER II.
BEGINNING OF AN INTERESTING GAME.

There was a deep frown on the strong, intelligent face
of Chief Inspector Steers as he sat alone in his private

, office a few days after the events narrated in the opening

chapter of this story.

The Harlem robberies had increased'.at an alarming
rate.

The bold robber having worked one quarter had shifted
his operations to another.

Over sixty victims had been reported within a week.

The amount carried off in money and valuables now ex-
ceeded twenty thousand dollars.

“The fellow must be the human embodiment of the Old
Boy himself,” muttered the inspector, “or he could never
have succeeded so thoroughly in mystifyingy my de-
If Nick Carter was disengaged I might have

He was in Chi-

this vexed matter settled in short order,
cago the other day, and my telegram——’

“ B-r-r-r-rig !” from the telephone interrupted his cogi-
tations.

A message from Superintendent Byrnes.

“Do you want to\see Carter ?”

“Dol? Ishould say so.”

‘“‘He’s here.”

“Where? In New York?”

“Yes. Strauss has just reported him to be in Harlem.”

“What can he be doing there?”

“Don’t know, but can guess. Shall I send for him ?”

“ At once.”

* All right.”

An hour later the great detective presented a smiling
face before the chief inspector of the metropolitan police.

“Got in town this morning,” Nick said, after the usual
cordial greeting had been exchanged, “and having read
in the morning papers of the Harlem robberies I thought
I would go out to test a certain theory that had suddenly
taken root in my mind,”

The inspector was all interest at once.

His eyes twinkled in satisfaction as Nick went on.

“It appeared to me,” began the latter, “that the very
enterprising individual who has been raising Ned among
the Harlem flats of late is an old acquaintance of mine.”

4c Ah 172,

The inspector’s ejaculation expressed as much pleasure
as surprise.

“Do you remember,” said Nick, “the very slick party
who worked the flats of both New York’ and Brooklyn
some six years ago?”

“Let me see. Yes. But that fellow was a kid—a
printer, and not more than seventeen years old.”

“The same,” returned Nick, quietly. “Do you remem-
ber his name?”

“Daly alias Wallace.”

“That’s the chap. Let’s call him Wallace, for that’s the
cognomen he’s known by.” '

“He worked with Brandt, the kitten, and was sent to
the penitentiary for five years.”

“And served four. Correct. Two years ago he went to
Connecticut.” .

“T think I did hear that he went off somewhere and got
work at his trade, that of a stone mason.”

“Yes, and he labored just long enough to make the
acquaintance of a very pretty girl, the only daughter of a
respectable widow.”

_ “You’re well posted,-Carter. Must have kept track of
the youngster from his first start into crime.”

“So I did. You see, [ had something to do with his con-
viction six years ago, and he was such a sharp, wide-
awake, intelligent fakir that I concluded it would be
worth my while to keep track of his movements.

“T knew when he left prison, when he married, and
when he returned to New York with his wife. Chick has
‘had an eye on him lately, and last week my assistant in-
formed me that Wallace was up to some shady work, for

 

he had been losing thousands of dollars at the races, and
had no visible means of support.

“ And this morning,” concluded Nick, “I found on my
arrival in Harlem that the youngster that was—the young
man that is; he’s twenty-three now, and so changed you’d
never recognize him as the Brooklyn kid grown up—had
been seen coming out of several flats at the times of the
several robberies therein.”

“So Jim Wallace is the thief?’ commented the in-
spector.

‘Beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

o It is strange that none of my detectives could spot
LANs

“Not very strange when you consider that he has kept
out of New York until very lately, thal he has changed
considerably since his discharge from prison, and that he
is an adept in the matter of disguises.”

“Carter,” said the inspector, earnestly, “if you will
land this rascal you willdo me a personal favor as well
as earn a rich reward. E

“You see,” he quickly added, as-Nick was about to
speak, “the operations of this fellow reflect on my man-
agement of the office. People come in every day and say,
‘What’s the matter with the detective force of New York?
Is it possible that this rogue who is cutting such a wide
swath in Harlem is more than a match for Superintendent
Byrnes’ successor and the skilled and intelligent force
under his control?’ ”

“PH land him, inspector,” replied the great detective,
with grim positiveness.

Nick remained in the office but a short time longer.

He had made an appointment with his assistants for
that afternoon, and when he went to the place agreed
rey he found Chick, Patsy, and Miss Ida Jones awaiting

im. :

After greeting them pleasantly Nick, in his quick, ab-
rupt manner, got down to business. °

After a brief statement of Jim Wallace’s misdeeds, etc.,
given for the benefit of Miss Jones, for Chick and Patsy
were already well posted in regard to the doings of the
bold and daring criminal, the great detective said to
Chick :

“ Any races at Coney Island to-day 2?”

“Yes; Futurity stakes, with Corrigan’s colt as the gen-
sational entry, at Brighton Beach.”

“Good, Wallace will be there. Patsy, it will be your
business to shadow him after Chick puts you onto him.”

Patsy’s eyes glistened with pleasure.

‘He sha’n’t fool me the way Danvers did.”

“Now, Chick,” said his superior, “ your work will be to
shadow Patsy.”

6 What ne

“Shadow Patsy.”

* With what object?” queried Chick, in great wonder-
ment.

“ With the object of tracking Wallace to his rendezvous
or home.” :

“But Patsy will do that, won’t he?”

“ He will do his best, and he will do all that I expect
and require of him,” returned Nick, quietly. “ But he won’t
be able, in my judgment, to get the upper hand of our
quarry in his role of shadower.”

Patsy’s bright face expressed both disappointment and
curiosity.

As for Chick, who knew his superior better, he waited
with an impassive countenance for Nick to make the
proper explanations of his curious statement and proposi-
tion.

“Jim Wallace is a cunning scoundrel, Chick,” said the
great detective, “and ordinary methods to capture him
will likely fail.

“Tf he’s caught it will be by playing trick against trick,
and outholding him. ‘

“Tf I put a shadower on to him when he leaves the races
he’ll drop to the business sure.”

“Sure.”

“Therefore if I let Patsy go alone on his track he’ll lose
the scent. No reflection on your ability is meant, Patsy,”
added Nick, as he turned to his second assistant, “ for this

 

rascal whom we want to down has been pursuing the avo-

 

 

 

 
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
   
   
  
    
  
    
  
  
  
  
   
 
   
  
   
   
    
  
    
  
 
 
     

6 NICK CARTER LIBRARY. 3 No, 82.

 

 

cation of an actor for many years, while you have only
just begun. Besides he——”

“No need to make any further explanations, Mr. Car-
ter,” said Patsy, ‘for I quite understand you.™

“Not quite, perhaps,” rejoined Nick, with a curious
smile. :

“What do you mean ?”

“This: That I want you to assist Wallace in getting onto
you, and therefore to allow him to throw dust in your
eyes, so to speak.”

“To get away from me?”

“That’s it.”

“'That’s a queer go, isn’t it?” looking at Nick, a little
doubtfully.

“Tt isn’t in the usual line of ordinary detective busi-
ness, but it will do to try on Mr, James Wallace.”

“T see your drift,” remarked Chick.

“T thought you would.” |

‘You want me to take up the direct shadowing of Wal-
lace when Patsy leaves off.”

‘“Yes. You will shadow Patsy until Wallace leaves him
in the lurch; then you will get in and track the cunning
youngster to his nest.”

“Good,” commented Chick, with enthusiasm. “ He’ll
never spot me, for the idea of two shadows won't enter
his head.”

‘“That’s the way I figure it,” said Nick.

“All right, and after I’ve run him down——

‘*Report to me here.”

‘“‘Good. Come, Patsy, let’s be off.”

When the two assistants had gone Nick turned to Miss
Jones, who had been a quiet and attentive listener to the
foregoing.

“You want me to find Wallace’s wife and gain her confi-
dence, I presume?” she said, as she lifted her’ dark, seri-
ous eyes to the great detective’s face.

‘“You have divined my wish exactly.”

“And if I find the husband at home ?”

“Report to me here at once, in the usual secret cipher,
should I not be here in person.

“Oan you give me any information regarding the lady 2”
Miss Jones asked.

“She is very smart and intelligent as well as handsome
and stylish.”

“And devotedly attached to her wicked husband, I pre-
sume ?”

“Yes. She would go through fire and water to serve
mins

“My undertaking promises to be a difficult one, then.
All the better, for I like to engage in the struggle in
which wit must be pitted against wit, cunning against
cunning.”

“About Mrs. Daly alias Mrs. Wallace, what I have
learned about her is this, Ida.

“She had never seen much money when she married
Wallace, and the easy life that came to her afterward
suited her notions to a dot, for she loves fine clothes and
all the ways of luxury.

“When Jim took her to New York he told her that he
intended to make a living by betting on the races.

“Some days he would come home with a pocketful of
money, and throwing a handful of gold and silver and
notes into her lap would tell her to go spend it.

‘Other days he would borrow what money she had and
go out to Coney Island and lose it.

“He was never known to win at the races, and all the
money he has ever obtained has been by the exercise of
his rare criminal gifts.

“Where she lives and where Jim holds out I can’t tell
you. If I could I would not need your assistance.

‘“‘But when you find it, as you will, I miss my guess if
you don’t strike a sort of palace fit for a king, filled with
costly furniture, bric-a-brac, art treasures, and all the de-
linquencies of the season, as Wallace himself would say.”

‘“‘T shall look for him on the east side,” Miss Jones said.

“May I ask why ?”

“Because he has been operating on the west side.”

“You are probably right, and how shall you begin your
investigation ?”

“ As an agent for a Chinese lottery.”
She spoke calmly and in a matter-of-fact voice.

9

 

Nick looked at her a moment gravely.

Then a smile crept into his face.

“You purpose pursuing my methods,” he said, “by
working a little out of the ordinary.”

Yes.”

“Good. The agent of a Chinese lottery—such an agent
as you ought to make—will be able to gain more informa-
tion, make better headway than a mere canvasser of
books, or other traps, would.”

“T shall act upon the presumption that she has become
affected with the gaming fever.’

“T see.’

&

“Ag her husband isa gambler, as she loves money as ©

well as loves him, and as she readily and cheerfuliy
spends the money he gives her, it follows that she must
sympathize in his pursuits, be they off color or not.”

“Miss Jones,” said Nick, gracefully, “I am sure that
your part of the programme will be admirably carried
out.

“ And now I will leave you with the conviction that the
combined efforts of yourself, Chick, and Patsy will place
Mr. James Wallace in a hole that he cannot escape from.”

The great detective parted with his lady assistant, and
then started for the Manhattan Beach ferry.

““My part in the little play,” he said to himself, “ will
be to shadow not, Wallace or Patsy, but Chick.”

When the races were over at Brighton Beach that after-
noon a green-looking countryman, “of the spring crop,
Queens County,” as a Brooklynite remarked when he had
swept his person with a sarcastic eye, might have been
seen gazing with wide-open mouth at the performance of
a knife thrower—a Bowery juggler, who had a little stand
not far from the track.

Another spectator standing by the countryman’s side
was a typical metropolitan tough, whose sneering smile
at the juggler’s performances so aggravated that person-
age that at last he wrathiully exclaimed :

‘See here, young feller, maybe you kin beat me at this
game, eh?”

“‘Dat’s w’at, sister.”

“Wat! You really t’ink so?”

“Don’t t’ink so. Know so.”

The tough had the stump of a cigar in his mouth, which
he now placed at an angle of forty-five degrees.

“Oh, go off ’n’ take a bat’.”

“Wat yer say ?” fiercely.

“Take a bat’, dat is, cully, take a tum’le; see?”

“T see dat yer tryin’ ter backcap me. ‘But yer can’t,
Reuben, not ter-day. I’m loaded fer fakirs, an’ w’en I
gits a dead sight on yer I’m goin ’ter let ’er flicker. 2

“'W’at are you givin’ me? Cranberries?”

“Naw. It'll be soup w’en I takes dem knives and has a
try wid ’em.”

“Take ’em den.”

The juggler handed the knives to the tough, who after

casting a furtive glance behind him, jumped over the rope -

that separated the outfit from the crowd and prepared to
exhibit his powers as a knife thrower.

The countryman followed the tough’s backward glance,
and saw a tall, well-dressed, handsome young. man with a
black mustache, brilliant black eyes, and a pale face, who
seemed to be very much interested in the tough’s per-
formance.

Not far from this individual was a haggard-visaged
bootblaek, whose walk showed a decided limp.

The tough raised one of the knives, and witha quick,
“Here she goes,” flung it with a practiced hand.

It struck the blackboard target, and rang the bell.

Five times this success was repeated.

Then the tough, who was now the hero of the crowd,
began a series of juggling operations that made the coun-
tryman cry out in delight:

““Jehoshophat an’ Jiminy Christmas, but ain’t he a Jim
Dandy !”

The young man with the black eyes also gave vent to —

his admiration.
“ Never saw the like of it in my life.”
‘*Yer never did, eh?” sneered the proprietor of the out-

fit, whose nose had been put out of joint, as if were, when —
the tough began his performance. ‘‘Well, Pll bet a fiver |

that I can knock ther spots off’n w’at he’s doin’ now.”

 

 

 

 
—
Poe

 

 

“Nom. : NICK CARTER LIBRARY, 7

 

 

 

“That’s not the kind of a bet I want to make,” returned

the young man, “but this would suit me. I'll go youa
twenty he can beat you as an all-around knife thrower
and juggler.”

“Tl go yer.”

The fakir was excited and angry.

Besides, his reputation was at stake.

The tough listened to the above discussion with a smile.

The money was.put up, and the countryman was se-
lecced as stakeholder.

It was close upon Jusk when the contest began, and it
was still going on with the odds in favor of the tough,
when it became so dark that operations had to cease.

“ Postponed until to-morrow,” announced the black-eyed.

better. “That agreeable ?”

“Suits me, cully,” said the tough, nonchalantly.

‘T ain’t er kickin’,” grunted the juggler.

“But how about der boodle 2”

‘Guess ye’d better take it back,” remarked the stake-
holder, ‘‘and if I’m here to-morrer you kin plank it up
agin. How’s that, hey?”

“ All right,” responded the two betters.

After the money had been returned the black-eyed
young man called the tough aside.

“T’d like to have a few words with you in private,” he
said, earnestly.

‘“ Anvthin’ in it?”

SY OS.”

‘Then I’m yer gooseberry.”

They walked up the road a way, and leaned against a
fence.

* “Have a cigar,” said the young man.

‘Don’t care it I do.”

The tough took the proffered weed, and began to puff it
v.gorously.

As the twain began talking the pale-faced bootblack
s rolled past.

It was not so dark, but he could see their forms plainly.

After going ona short distance the bootblack crouched
b2hind a mound of sand and waited.

His action had not been observed by the two men at the
TEQCE,

But a certain individual had taken note of. the boot-
blac«’s movements.

That individual was the countryman.

And now began a most peculiar and interesting game in
which one man was pitted against three.

For the young man of the black eyes was Jim Wallace,
the daring flat robber.

His companion, the tough, was Chick, while the boot-
lack was Patsy.

And who was the countryman ?

Nick Carter.

CHAPTER III.
A MYSTIFIED DETECTIVE,

“Pye got a girl over in Brooklyn,” said Wallace to
Chick, “that I’ve been visiting on the quiet for some time.
See?”

‘“T ain’t blind.”

“This girl is engaged to be married to arich stock
broker in New York.”

“Tf she is waitin’ fer my consent, give it to her, young
feller, wid my bes’ respecks. See?”

=f ll do it.”

Manks.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, this broker,” went on Wal-
lace, in his former serious tone, “is as jealous as he
can be.

“And he suspects that she has been receiving outside
attentions.

“In fact, suspecting me, he has hired a certain party to
pipe off my movements.”

‘An’ yer want me ter smash der bloke, is dat it?”

‘No, I want you tosmash the fellow he has hired to

‘watch me.’

Chick jerked his head forward, crooked his elbow ina
pugilistic manner, and spat viciously at the fence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Gimme dat twenny yer put up a w’ile ago, an’ I’ll
make him a candydate for der horse-pistol.”

“I knew by the cut of your jib that you were the man I
was looking for,” said Wallace, approvingly.

“Now, yer’ve foun’ me, wair 3 der bloke I’m ter smash 2”

“ About here somewhere. i

“Pipin’ yer ?”

66 Yes. ”

“ Describe hii.”

‘“He’s made up as a bootblack.”

“Wot! dat snoozer wid er ghos’ mug ontce him ”

“The same.’

“He ain’t no spy.”

‘What makes you think so?”

“ He ain’t got sense ’nuff ter las’ him over night.”

“Don’t you fool yourself. By the way, by what name
shall I address you ?”

“Tommy der Pug.”

“Well, then, Tommy der Pug, you want to understand
that this bootblack is shar per than a ferret.”

‘Who tole yer?”

“T know him by reputation.”

oo right, Sharp goes. Now, wair am I terdo bim

up

“Not kill him, smash him, break his jaw, lay him up so
he can’t interfere with other people’s business for a week
at least.”

“Pl fix him, bet yer pants.”

“Good! Now, here is the programme.”

Wallace bent forward, and whispered these words into
the pseudo-tough’s ear:

“When I start for the railway station this boctblave
will be found somewhere in my rear. Keep your eye on
him, and after we get to Brooklyn and have left the train
light down on him.”

“Down by der ferry, eh?”

“Yes, that’s a good place.” a

“Will you’se be around ter see der fun?”

“No, I won’t have time. Important business over the
river. See?”

“How about der blunt?”

: vat Ml pay you twenty down, and thirty when the job is
one.’

““W’en der job’s done you’se ’ll be in New York. Dat
won’t wash, Reuben.”

“Tt will have to. You can call on me at this address.”

Wallace gave Chick the card of a Bowery saloon.

Nick Carter’s assistant took it, thought a moment, and
then said :

“Tl trus’ yer dis time. Gimme der twenny.”

The money was placed in his hands.

Soon after they separated.

As Jim Wallace wended his way to the railway station,
he chuckled softly. to himself.

- His thoughts were pleasant ones.

“Steers has got onto me,” so they ran, “and has put a
detective on my track.

“The inspector knows that suspicions of a man won’t
convict him, and what he wants, now that he’ has got his
eye on me, is to track me to the place where I have stored
my plunder, as well as to have my next operation in the
flat line witnessed by a party whose evidence in court will ~
be worth something,” and he was right.. The rascal had
not toyed with justice for years without becoming thor-
oughly familiar with the machinery of police officers and
courts, and of understanding what was legal evidence and
what was not.

He had caught Patsy looking at him queerly several

times at the races, and being on his guard, and also

blessed with a quick intuition, he had at once put down
the young detective as an emissary of Chief Inspector
Steers.

Had he known that Nick Carter was in New York, he
would, perhaps, have associated the false bootblac . with
some’ cunning plan of the Little Giant.

But Wallace supposed Nick to be in the West.

In fact, all his Harlem operations had been committed
during Nick’s absence.

“Tf I queer the game of this spy of Steers,” mused the
young criminal, as he was being whirled over the rail-
way toward Brooklyn, “TH clean up in 1 Harlem to-mor-

 

 
    

    

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ee NICK CARTER LIBRARY. No.

 

 

row, and then’ transfer amy oper ations to Brooklyn or
Jersey City.”

He saw the countryman board the tr ain, but paid no at-
tention to him. .

At the ferry, Wallace looked around for the bootblack.

To his surprise, he saw him struggling in the grasp of
the false tough in the full glare of the electric light.

Chick turned a meaning glance in his employer’s direc-
tion at this moment, and while he held Patsy with one
hand, with the other he threw open his coat and exhibited
an officer’s badge, either that of a policeman or a detec-
tive.

‘‘What the duse does this mean?” muttered the villain,
under his breath. “I don’t understand it.”

He saw the tough drag the lame bootblack away, and
then his brow cleared.

As the boat pushed off, he went whistling softly and in
avery easy frame of mind.

“That tough isa daisy,” his thoughts now ran, ‘“‘and
the copper racket was the slickest and softest one to play.

“Of course, he'll start for the police station with his
prisoner, and on the way he will find it necessary—in
some dark and obscure corner, of course—to beat his pris-
oner to a jelly for resisting arrest.

‘‘T must cultivate the acquaintance of this new em-
ployee of mine. It’s not every day a fellow meets with
such a handy, intelligent worker.”

On the boat’ was the countryman.

The great detective had taken a hand in the game at the
start, for the reason that he feared that-his carefully ar-
ranged programme might either miscarry or require at-
tention on some material point.

He conjectured that Chick had not allowed Wallace to
leave his sight without making an appointment with the
alick rascal; but there existed a doubt in Nick’s mind as
to whether Wallace would keep the appointment or not.

“Tf he has been taken by Chick’s ways, and has not the:
least suspicion of his identity, then he will meet my as-
sistant as agreed upon. But in the meantime I must not
lose sight of him, so that if Chick’s——”

Nick ceased to commune with himself, for a raw-look-
mg Teuton suddenly accosted him.

‘‘Oxcoose me,” he said, timidly; “but I vas not hf py
Ni Yorrik alretty.”

: aoe tell!” .

“So! I vas some strangers mit dose zitty.”

yi Well, what can I dew for ye, eh?”

“Maype dot you can dell where dot est ein hoonderd
wnd swansy teerst streed vas?”

“In Harlem, ’cordin’? tew my reccollection, mister.”

“Vere dey. haf dose flats alretty ?”

Nick ‘started, and gave the Dutchman the benefit of a
gearching serutiny.

What did he mean by reference to Harlem flats?

* Yes, ”he said, slowly and guardedly, ‘‘I hearn tel: that
there’s jest slathers of houses over there with those
Prenchy flats inter ’em.’

“Und vere dey vas flats dey might pe sharps, eh

The Dutchman smiled, as he asked this peculiar ques-
tion.

“Look here!” said Nick, half-angrily, “what air yew
drivin’ at? Ifit’s some of your goldarned funny busi-
ness, I don’t want any of it in mine.’

The Dutchman allowed a low, aggravating chuckle to
escape him.

“Tf I ean fool you, Nick,” he said, in the voice of Chick,
“then I won’t have much difficulty in getting away with
Jim Wallace.”

The great detective silently shook hands with his as-
sistant.

“Tf you come on as fast as this, my boy,” he whispered,
“Pll have to look to my laurels.”

They withdrew to a quiet spot out of sight of their
quarry, and sat down.

“T had a fine chance to do a little lightning change busi-
ness.” said Chick, in explanation, “and I did it.”

“When I had yanked Patsy out of sight behind a pile,
of boxes, I transformed myself into a Dutchman in three |
shakes of a lamb’s tail.

be

 

oe

 

|
1

“ Where’s Patsy ?” asked Nick.

“Tn Brooklyn. He’ll come over on the next boat.”

When the passengers landed in New York, Nick parted
with Chick, leaving to Young Hercules the task of shad-
owing Wallace, while he himself hastened to the rendez-
vous to see if any message had been left there - Miss
Ida Jones.

The great detective hardly expected to hear from her so
soon, and he was deeply gratified when these words,
translated from the cipher met his eyes:

“T believe I have made a most important discovery. Come at once
to No.——Bowery. Jade

The place designated was an underground saloon fre-
quented by thieves and toughs, and presided over. by a
one-eyed Irishman of the name of Red Mike Sheedy.

Nick wondered in his mind what clew had brought his
lady assistant to such a disreputable and dangerous quar-
ter, but remembering the brave and daring work she had
done in the green-goods case, he concluded that she had
made a bold stroke in male attire, in order that she might
not lose a single trick in the game she was playing.

Arrived at the saloon about nine, Nick, in the character
of aswell crook, entered the dingy, ill-smelling and _ ill-
lighted place, and distinguishing the proprietor’s face
through a rift in the cloud of tobacco-smoke that envel-
oped him, gave asmart rap on the greasy counter, and
called for beer.

While Red Mike waited on him, Nick cast his eyes
about the room.

Two tables were occupied by card- players, and in a cor-
ner sata young man with a red-and-white complexion
and a small, black mustache.

When Nick had finished his glass, the young man se-
cretly beckoned to him.

In the belief that he was about to meet Miss Jones in
disguise, the detective went over to where the young man
sat.

As he came nearer he saw to his surprise, that the per-
son who had beckoned to him, though a woman in dis-
guise, was not Miss Ida Jones.

‘“ The lady you are looking for is in there,” said the dis-
guised one, in a sweet contralto, indicating a rear room.

“How do you know that I am looking for a lady?”
queried Nick, in his assumed character as the crook.

“She told me you were coming,” was the composed
reply. .

“She?. Who?”

* Miss Ida Jones.”

“Told you I was coming?” interrogated Nick, in affected
wonder. ‘“Haven’t you made a mistake?”

If a trick was being attempted, he did not purpose being
taken off his guard.

66 No. 99

‘“‘This is a queer go,” he muttered, as if to himself. “A
Miss Ida Jones tells you I am coming to this shebang 2”

“That's what I said, Mr. Ce arter,” said the disguised
woman, coolly.:

Nick ‘started.

Then he looked her over slowly.

The calm, steady eyes and the emotionless countenance
gave him no clew.

“How did Miss Jones know that I was coming here in
this get up?” he asked.

“She did not specify the disguise you would assume.
She simply told. me to be on the lookout for Nick Carter,
who might be identified by a piece of court-plaster over
his left eye.’

The detective flushed to the temples with vexation.

He had received a slight cut. over the eye several days
before while making an arrest’ in Chicago, and since his
arrival in New York he had worn a piece of plaster over
the wound.

That Ida Jones should have noticed it did not surprise
him; but he was annoyed to think that shs should have

confided the secret of the plaster to another party to be

used as 9 means of identification.
Stop! Had she done so?
He had only this woman’s word for it—a woman mas-

“The boat:was getting ready to shove off when IT leaped querading in male attire, who might be, for all he knew ~
| to the contrary, an emissary and tool of Jim Wallace.

on board. I hadn't a second to spare.”

 

 

    
     
      

 

 
 

 

 

No 82.

 

NICK CARTER LIBRARY.

eee a ER I AH on

9

 

 

 

He would soon know whether he was being peceivey or
not,

“You say Miss Jones told you to look out for me o

6 Yes. »b) :

“ Why could not she look out for me herself?”

“Because she has business in there,” pointing toward
the door of a room in the rear.

“She is in there now, is she?”

66 Yes. b)]

“Will you go in and inform her that I wish to see her ?”

“No, I cannot.”

ee Why ?

° Becacee to do so would be to spoil her plans.”

“Do you know what they are?”

e6 Yes. 99

“Tell me, if you please.”

‘‘To trace the plunder stolen from the Harlem flats and
fix the crime on James Wallace.”

“She told you this?” Nick said, scornfully.
me, my dear, but that doesn’t go down.”

“You would have confided in me had you beenin her
place,” returned the disguised woman, earnestly.

“JT would, would I? Humph!”

“Of course you would.”

“Will you be kind enough to explain? Why would I?”

“Because vou could not refuse to confide in one who is
as anxious as you are to see James Wallace the inmate of
the hotel at Sing Sing.”

“Vou are referring to yourself, I presume?”

a am,”

“‘And pray who may you be?”

“T am the wife of the man you are seeking to corner,”

“The wife of James Wallace?”

66 Yes. 29 z

Nick Carter whistled.

Unbelief looked out of his eyes.

“Per haps you doubt my word,” she said, reproachfully.

“Madam,” said the great detective, coldly, ‘ ‘in my pro-
fession I am compelled to doubt until presented with the
facts. Permit me to remind you that James Wallace and
his wife are a most affectionate couple; that she knows
of his evil courses and approves of them because they
bring in money; and money to her means luxury—the
gratification of every selfish whim and pleasure.”

“She did love him once.”

“ And does not, now?” sneered Nick.

“She loves him no more,” responded the woman, sadly.

“What has he done to forfeit her love?”

“He has terribly wronged her.”

“In what way?”

“By making her believe him to be’ her husband when,
in fact, he has a wife living—a woman he married a week
after he got out of prison and nearly two years before he
saw me.”

“This isa very pretty story,’’ said Nick, with an amused
smile, “so pretty that if you were to send it to one of the
Sunday papers it might be worked up into something very
taking in print. Q

The woman’s black eyes flashed in anger.

“You will regret those contemptuous words,” she said,
“when you find out how you have misjudged me. Miss
Ida Jones will bring you to your senses.’

‘‘Ah, yes, Miss Jones! For the moment I had forgotten
her.”

‘She told me about Jim’s duplicity.”

“She did, eh?”

“Veg. T never dreamed until this afternoon that he had
a wife living*when he married me.’

“Miss Jones met you—-where ?”

“At my house. On East Fifty-seventh street.”

“In what guise did she accost you? As a woman or as
a man?”

“ As a woman.”

“She had some excuse for calling upon you; what was
it?”

“She wanted to sell me a ticket for a Chinese lottery.”

“Did she know who you were?”

“Not at first.”

“ How did she make the discovery that you were the

wife of Jim Wallace?”

“JT invited her into the parlor, and when she entered she

“ Hixcuse

 

noticed a piece of statuary—a Clytie—that I had been
foolish enough to put on the mantel. It had been stolen
by Jim from a Harlem flat the day before.”

“And she identified it?”

**At once.’

“Well, what occurred when she denounced you?”

«She did not denounce me?”

“No? What words did. she use, then?”

“She said very quietly, and like the lady she is, ‘Mrs.
Wallace,’ said she, ‘I am very sorry for you.’

““What for? said I, with a toss of my head, for I was
defiant, and I had my husband’s interests at heart at that
moment I can tell you.

“*For the gross deception to which you have been the
victim,’ was her reply.

“And then she told meall about Jim’s other wife—his
true wife.

“T wouldn’t believe her at first, but when she brought
her proofs, a copy of the marriage certificate, taken from
the register, and then went out and brought in the woman
herself—she had been waiting down the street—I could
not but believe that I had been most shamefully imposed

| upon.

*‘All my love for Jim Wallace then turned to hate, and
when Ida Jones proposed that I assist her in bringing him
to justice for the Harlem robberies, I eagerly and fiercely
consented.

“The first proposition made by your assistant, Mr. Car- '
ter,” the disguised woman went on, “was that I should
turn up the stolen plunder—that is, as much of it as Jim
had secreted about the house.

“This Lagreed todo, and when I had done so, Miss
Jones had it all loaded into a police wagon, which she had

‘|telephoned for, and it was taken to police headquarters.”

At this point in the woman’s recital, Nick became firmly
convinced that an attempt was being made to hoodwink
bim.

He had been listening to the artful tale of a skilled
romance.

What was her object?

To lure him into some pitfall, of course.

He deterimned to put a stop to her little game at once.

“T beg your} ardon,” he said, abruptly, when she paused.
fora moment; “but I must speak to Miss Jones for a mo-
ment,”

The answer surprised him greatly.

“Very well,” said the disguised woman,
and is probably awaiting you.’

Nick had made up his mind as a natural sequence to
his theory of his companion’s character that, Ida Jones
was not in the next apartment, nor anywhere in the
vicinity.

But when the woman in male attire spoke so coolly in
reference to the lady detective’s presence in the building,
Nick took two quick steps and reached the door opening
into the rear room.

He turned the knob quickly, and opened the door.

A small apartment with a circular table in the center
and a lamp upon it.

Sitting by the table was a woman in the guise of a Bow-
ery boy.

It was Miss: Ida Jones.

Nick was about to speak, when she put her finger to her
lips and motioned him back.

The great detective nodded his head, and silently closed
the door.

Then he turned to the woman he had left in the corner.

She was regarding him with a curious smile.

“Well?” was her sarcastic query. ‘“ What do you think,
now ?”

Nick answered, evasively.

“JT think it will rain before morning.”

“she’s in there,

CHAPTER IV.
NICK FALLS INTO A TRAP.

Nick Carter was puzzled when he turned from the room
which held Miss Ida Jones, his lady assistant, and con-
fronted the disguised woman who represented herself to
be the wife of James Wallace.

 

 

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The story she had told, backed by the presence of Miss
Jones in the saloon, would have been proof positive to the
ordinary detective that she had told the truth.

But Nick Carter was not an ordinary detective.

Asa deep student of human nature, and one whose
strange and varied experience had brought him in contact
with all sorts and conditions of men, and with crime and
wickedness in all its phases, he was not prepared to
swallow at a gulp the very plausible yarn the disguised
woman had reeled off.

It was a pretty yarn, a very pretty one, indeed.

It had been cleverly put together, but it lacked in but
one important essential.

And that essential was a proper understanding of the
character.and ability of Nick’s lady assistant.

The great detective could believe that Miss Jones might
have confided in Jim Wallace’s wife under the circum-
stances as narrated by her, or the person who was per-
sonating her; he could believe that she had asked Mrs.
Wallace to turn up the stolen property.

But he could not believe that his assistant would take it
upon herself to send the plant to police headquarters.

Such a proceeding was contrary to good sense.

It might spoil everything, for Jim Wallace might get
word of the removal of the plunder in time to keep out
of harm’s way.

No good detective or officer of the law would think of
taking such an action while a fine chance existed for the
immediate capture of the robber.

It was only in a case of a public raid, or when the un-
lawful operators were unknown, or scenting danger had.
fled the scene of their crimes; or that arrest had immedi-
ately followed or preceded the movement, that stolen
property had been taken from its place of concealment to
police headquarters.

Miss Ida Jones understood her business thoroughly—on
that point Nick was convinced—and besides she had not
departed on her mission without having received definite
instructions as to the course she should pursue.

It was no part of her duty to take upon herself any of
the functions that naturally devolved upon her superior.

The woman, who was, or pretended to be, Jim Wallace’s
wife, was therefore, according to the great detective’s
shrewd deductions, a fabricator in this one point at least.

And if she spoke falsely in one regard, might not her
whole story be a tissue of ingenious lies?

Or were both truth and falsehood blended in her nar-
rative the better to deceive him?

After regarding her unabashed countenance for a mo-
ment, Nick said :

“What business is occupying Miss Jonesin the next
room ?”

“She is waiting for the appearance of Jim Wallace.”

“What !”

‘‘It surprises you, does it?”

“Tt does, madam.”

“And yet I speak the truth.”

“Jim Wallace is too sharp and crafty to put his neck in

a noose of this kind.”

“The sharpest rogue has his weak spot.”

“ And has my assistant found that weak spot?”

“She has.”

“ And what is it?”

“Woman.”

“T thought you would say so, and, what’s more, it’s the
truth.”

“Of course it is.”

But she looked at the great detective with eyes of sus-
picion when he so readilv coincided with her.

“Yes,” said Nick, with decision, “he’s weak on the
woman question. But my assistant—how did she make
use of her knowledge of his weak point?”

“ At her request I indited a note to him, and had it sent
off by a boy whom I knew could be trusted.”

“You know where Jim hangs out when he’s not at
home, then?”

“ Certainly.”

Goon.”

“The note alluded to a chance meeting at the races.”

the most beautiful women in New York—she moves in a

select but fast set—met Jim at Brighton Beach, the other

day, and made eyes at him till he actually blushed. Both

were on the mash, and she outmashed him.” |

“He told you this, did he?”

“Ves, and laughed at the episode, for he never expected

to see her again.”

“Well?” :

“Now, this note of mine—inspired by’ Miss Jones—re-

ferred to this meeting—of eyes—and asked for a different

kind of a meeting. In fact, an appointment was made for

Red Mike’s saloon this very evening.” :

A queer smile curled about the corners of Nick’s mouth.

“Tg not this a rather inappropriate quarter for a lady of

the best society to select as a trysting-place ?”

ce No. 99

**Explain.”

“She’s got the slumming craze like many others of her

kind. I refer to this pet diversion of hers in the note,

and say that I—that is she, you understand—have been

here before.” : i
‘“T see.”

.“And that to-night I will come in disguise—in male

attire.”

“What! Do you intend to personate the society belle

on this occasion ?”

“How stupid you are !”

Nick smiled inwardly.

“Miss Ida Jones is to take the part of Jim’s admirer,”

she explained.

The great detective began to entertain a feeling of re-

spect for the disguised woman. ’ ‘

Such an expert romancer he had not encountered for
many a day.

Some parts of her narrative bewildered him by its cun-
ning plausibility.

It was certain that Miss Jones had an appointment of
some kind in the next room. _

If he could only see her for a moment—speak but a few
words to her.

A rap on the door made him start.

“She wants me,” said the disguised woman, quickly.

‘Perhaps not. It may be that I am the person she de-
sires.” : . ;

The woman shrugged her shoulders.

Nick reached the door just as another rap came.

He entered to find the room empty.

He determined to sit down and wait for her return.

The room-had two doors, one opening into the bar-
room, the other into another apartment or a corridor, the
detective knew not which.

Five minutes passed. ;

Then the door by which he had entered opened quickly.

disguise, who had represented herself to be Jim Wallace’s
wife.

At the same moment the other door opened, and a man
leaped into the room.

to defend himself.

A short, sharp, and decisive struggle followed.

But the detective was outnuYnbered.

For while he was wrestling with his poweiful adver-
sary, a club, wielded by the disguised woman, descended
again and again on Nick’s devoted head, until he fell limp
and insensible to the floor.

CHAPTER V.
MISS JONES’ MISADVENTURRE.

The great detective had fallen into a trap most cleverly
prepared by the friends of Jim Wallace. .
Aud Miss Ida Jones was also 4 victim.

that success would crown her efforts; for before Nick
Carter had entered upon the case she had learned that
Wallace was a bigamist.

 

‘Jim is too fly to be caught by such a bait as that.”
“Oh, no, for the meeting actually took place! One of

put it to good advantage.

a

Nick turned to see the face and person of the woman in —

He threw himself upon Nick before the latter had time

She had set out on her mission in the confident belief ;

When the detail was given her, she resolved to keep the _
knowledge she had gained to herself until after she had

 

 

   

    
   

  

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dition, but she had no time for remonstrances.

‘and her moral principles were floating away in the fumes

No. 82

NICK CARTER LIBRARY.

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As the fact that Jim Wallace had committed bigamy
would not be of importance in any other branch of the
case than the one upon which she had entered, she did
not think any harm could result from temporarily with-
holding it.

She regretted her mistake when too late to rectify it.

Miss Jones’ washerwoman, a young, faded-out woman, |
had informed her that Jim Wallace had a wife living
when he married the Connecticut girl.

The washerwoman was Mrs. Wallace No. 1.

Untortunately the latter had a failing that had more
than once brought her to grief.

She loved to tipple.

Whisky had once sent her to Black well’s Island.

When Miss Jones left Nick she went straightway to
Mrs. Wallace’s poor habitation near the Grand Central
Depot for the purpose of ascertaining if the woman had
heard of her husband lately.

She found Mrs, Wallace in a happy mood.

In her little cheerless room she sat singing to herself,
with a bottle of whisky on the table beside her.

Miss Jones frowned when she noticed the woman’s con-

Her business was urgent, and she could lecture the rob-
ber’s deserted wife at some other time.

“Have you heard from your husband lately?” Nick’s
lady assistant asked, after a few commonplaces had
passed.

“Heard from him, isit? No. I haven’t heard from the
wretch, bad luck to him, but I’ve seen him.”

“Seen him! Where ?”

Here was news which might prove of a most important
character.

“Coming out of a house on East Fifty-seventh street.”

“Did you speak to him ?”

“Not I. He’s welcome to his other woman. I’m glad to
be rid of him, the deceiver.”

“The other woman 2”

“Ves. A young woman bid him good-by at the door.”

‘(Then he must live at the house you saw him come out
ot.”

“Of course he does, and some day I’ll go up there and
tear that hussy’s eyes out.”

“T thought you said just now that your husband was
welcome to her.”

With a maudlin grin, the woman replied :

“Vou didn’t understand me. He’s welcome to her, but
she’s not welcome to him.”

“You make a curious distinction.”

“That’s all right.”

Mrs. Wallace looked fondly at the half-empty bottle.

Nick Carter’s lady assistant with a little gesture of dis-
gust took her leave.

She had not been gone a minute before a young man
entered.

He was well-dressed, smooth-faced, and sharp-eyed,
with a hawk nose and thin, cruel lips.

At one time he had acted as her husband’s agent, and
had paid her certain sums of money on condition that she
should not seek him out or bother him.

Mrs. Wallace was in the act of finishing the bottle of
whisky, when she heard the door open.

“You're a hog, Lena,” the man said, roughly.

“What is that you say, Matt Cooley?” she fiercely re-
joined. ;

“You're a hog.”

‘“You’re a liar.” ‘

“No one but a hog would drink the last drop of liquor
in a bottle when she saw an old friend coming in.”

“JT didn’t see you, and you’re not an ol’ frien’, Matt
Cooley.” “ :

“Tf I bring the stuff, I’m a friend, ain’t I Y

““Ye-es.”

“ Stuff buys whisky, you know.”

“Right you are, Matty.”

The liquor had now complete possession of her head,

that came forth with each breath that she exhaled. _
“What was Ida Jones doing in here?” he asked in an

insinuating tone, after he had laid a ten-dollar note in

her lap.

4

 

 

““Who’s Ida Jones ?”

“The woman who just left here.”

“How’d you come to know her ?”

“T used to know her Cousin Rita, and I saw Ida when
she was doing her first work for Nick Carter in the Hen-
derson case.”

“Were you Rita’s friend ?”

“No, I was an honest man then.”

“Honest because it was policy to be so,” the woman
grunted.

“Maybe.”

“Got any more gol’ pieces?”

“Lots of ’em.”

“You asked me a quesh’n jus’ now,” she said, with a
cunning leer.

Tt did.”

“You want to know why Miss Ida Jones came here to
gee me.”

“Correct.”

“Gimme ’nother tenner ’n I’ll tell you.”

Matt Cooley put another bank-note into. her hand. .

Mrs. Wallace chuckled softly to herself as she stowed it
away in her bosom.

“She came here to pump me.”

oe Eh Qe

“To pump me ’*bout Jim.”

“Aha! Ithought so. Well?”

“T told her I saw Jim this morn’. See?”

Her tongue was becoming thicker, and she rubbed her
chin nervously as she spoke.

‘Where did you tell her you saw him ?”

“On Eas’ Fif-seven’ street.”

“What !”

“On Eas’ FWif-seven’ street, ’n that’s truth, Matt Cooley.”

“Then she’s gone there, now ?”

“Of course she has. Tha’s her reg’lar business.”

Matt Cooley left the place unceremoniously. |

There was an anxious look on his evil face as he took
his way to the east side.

He was Jim Wallace’s partner, and had located most of
the flats which Jim had afterward plundered.

Cooley lived on East Fifty-seventh street, and Mrs.
‘Wallace had seen her husband come out of his (Cooley’s)
house.

If Ida Jones went there she must make a discovery that
would render his further stay in New York a most danger-
ous proceeding.

For a portion of the property stolen from the Harlem
flats was in his house. .

It consisted of articles of adornment which Mrs. Cooley
had fancied.

This latter personage was a young woman of bright in-
telligence turned in an evil direction.

She was an able ally of her husband in all his criminal
undertakings.

Before Matt Cooley met Wallace she had been his sole
partner in all his schemes of robbery, and so cunningly
had she played her part that she had never once come
under police suspicion or surveillance.

‘Nick Carter had heard that Matt.Cooley had a wife, but
he had never met her.

“Tf IE can only reach home before that female spy
reaches there,” muttered Matt, as he got into a cab,
“Molly and I will be able to fix things so as to queer her
game in great shape.”

His hand trembled as he opened the door of: his dwell-
ing, and his face was pale with apprehension.

But his heart gave a bound of relief, and he breathed

freely when his wife met him with a smile, and in reply

to his hurried question, said that no one had called during
his absence.

When he told her what he had learned at Mrs. Wal-
lace’s, she pursed her pretty lips and bent her dark eyes
to the floor.

_ “T have it, Matt,” she said, presently.

‘“\ plan to beat Nick Carter’s game?”

“Yas.”

“ And save Jim Wallace as well ?”

ce Yes. 12

“What is it?”

 
 

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“T’ll put that Clytie that Jim picked up in Harlem yes-
terday on the parlor mantel.”

“That’s a risky move.”

“Wait and let me finish. Then I’ll make Miss Ida Jones
believe that [ am young Mrs. Walace—Jim’ s wife No. 2.
See ?”

“T see you’ve got some bold scheme in your head’—
looking at her with admiring eyes.

“So I have.”

-“Well, what next, Molly ?”

“Miss Jones will do the sympathy act, I’m sure, and
ten to one she’ll tell me about Jim’s first marriage.”

oe hundred to one she will. It'll be the boss card to
play.”

“ When she does, I’ll pretend at first to be all broke up;
and, after I’ve worked the briny in good style, [Pll flash
out as a wronged woman, who burns to be revenged on
the vile brute who has so cruelly deceived me.”

“Pll bet you'll fool her a big bunch, Molly.”

“After that I’1] play into her hands up to the limit of
making an appointment to deliver Jim Wallace into her
hands—that is, Nick Carter's.”

“What place will you designate?” »

“Red Mike’s.”

“How will you work the snap 2”

“Leave that to me. Once l’ve got her there, I expect
you and Jim to whirl in and put the finishing touches on
the game.”

“T understand. You press the button, and we’ll do the
rest.”

Tt is unnecessary to follow the conversation of this
wicked couple further.

Suffice it to say that when Nick Carter’s lady assistant
rang the bell at the front door, the details of the con-
spiracy had been fully arranged.

Ida Jones was-a shrewd, sharp woman, but on this oc-
casion she was completely taken in by the matchless act-
ing of Matt Cooley’s wife. -

In the firm belief that she had found Jim Wallace’s
wife No. 2—the girl he had married in Connecticut—and
that she had enlisted her services in the campaign against
her husband—now shown up to her in the light of a base
deceiver—Ida Jones left the house to don a male disguise,
and hasten to Red Mike’s saloon where she expected to
meets Jim Wallace.

Before leaving for the saloon, she indited a note, in|

cipher, to Nick Carter.

When she reached Red Mike’s, Mrs. Cooley, also in male
disugise, was found awaiting her.

“Go into the back room,” said the tricky Molly, “an
wait till Jim comes. He will enter by the back way.”

Informed that the part she had to play was that of the
society belle who had fallen in love with Jim Wallace at
the races, Ida Jones went into the back room, and closed
the door.

A few moments after she had seated herself by the table,
Mrs. Cooley entered.

“Did you see Nick Carter before you came here?” she
asked, with assumed anxiety.

i No, but I left a message for him.’

“Did you give him any instructions as to what he should
do when he reached the saloon 2”

és No.”

“Why not?”

“Because he knows how to adapt himself to circum-
stances. Besides, I may see him.”

“Not when he enters.”

“You may inform him that ITamin the room, if you
like.”

‘‘Give me his descripation, and I will do so.”

TL Cant.

“He will come in disguise, then ?”

“fOf course.”

“I will try to penetrate it. :

“T wish you luck in the venture.’ :

As Mrs. Cooley turned to go, she gave this instruction :

“No one must enter this room before Jim Wallace ar-
rives, for if he should come suddenly tothe other door
and find somebody with you he would suspect a trap and
take himself off.”

“*T will allow no one to enter.”

d

  

 

 

With a smile of satisfaction, the disguised woman-plot-
ter went out of the room.

She met Nick Carter soon afterward, and partially mys- —
tified him by her ingenious storv.

Ida Jones felt that all was well when he first opened the
door of the back room, and looked in upon her, but acting
upon the instructions of the woman she believed to’ be
Mrs. Wallace No. 2, she waved him back and so Nick did
not get a chance to speak to her.

Shortly after his return to the bar-room, me rear door
opened quickly.

Miss Jones looked up expectantly.

«But it was not Jim Wallace who entered.

It was a man the lady detective had never seen before.

“Pardon me,” he said, deferentially, ‘‘for this intru-
sion, but I come as the friend and messenger of the gentle-
man whom you are expecting.”

“Where is he?” asked Miss Jones, in a tone of acute
disappointment.

“Outside in the corridor. He is afraid to come in.”

“Afraid ?” her lips curled scornfully. ‘“ Afraid of what?”

“ Not for himself,” said the stranger, quickly ; “but for
your sake. The police are going to-make a raid on this
place to-night, and—-—-”

‘‘T see,” said Nick’s lady assistant, quickly, “and——”

“He wishes to save your reputation.”

“T am obliged for his consideration.”

“He is not a bad fellow when you get to know him.”*

Miss Jones found herself in a quandary.

She could not notify Nick of the shght change in her pro-
gramme, and it was too early to give the signal that
should bring him to her:

She must go out into the corridor and meet Wallace,
or else give up all hope of seeing him that night.

As for the statement that a police raid was contem-
plated, it might or might not be true.

The fact was patent, however, that Jim Wallace was
not disposed to trust himself in the back room.

Just a faint suspicion of treachery crept into her mind,
as she rose to follow the stranger—who was none other
than Matt Gooley—into the corridor, and for a moment
she hesitated.

But the thought of the canes that might be forever lost
in case her suspicions proved to be groundless; made her
go forwara resolutely.

She‘stepped out of the room into almost black dark-
ness.

The next instant she knew what a terrible mistake she
had made.

A rude hand was pressed tightly over her mouth, and
she was thrown roughly to the damp flags of a long, nar-
row cellar, and not a corridor.

“Keep quiet and stop your kicking,” hissed a hoarse
voice into her ear, “or I’ll choke the life out of you.”

The speaker was Jim Wallace.

CHAPTER VI.
CAUGHT A TARTAR,

When Nick Carter’s senses returned, he found himself
lying on his back in some dark, damp hole.

His head pained him, and he involuntarily uttered a
groan, as he attempted to move it.

The groan was productive of one result, which might
bea beneficial one.

It assured him of companionship.

He was not alone in his dark, gloomy prison.

““Who’s there?” came a faint voice, close at hand.

Nick answered quickly :

“A fellow victim, I presume.”

The detective’s voice sounded harsh and unnatural.

He hardly recognized it himself.

““‘Who are you?” again queried the voice, this time
louder and clearer.

“Nick Carter,” was the surprised response.
brings you here, Miss Jones?”

The lady assistant heaved a profound sigh.

“My want of caution.”

“We are none of us perfect.”

“No need to tell me that.”
- “ Are you bound like me?”

 

“And what 2

 

 

  

  
 
 
 

 

- ing which time’ every square foot of floor and wall had

 

 

No. 82 NICK CARTER LIBRARY. | 1s

 

“Yes. Ican’t move, Iam not only bound, but secured
to a staple in the floor.”

“My fix. How long have you been in here?”

“JT don’t know. I fainted when I got here, and I think
it was you1 voice which brought me to consciousness.”

“The time must be short, then. Have you any idea
where we are?”

66 Yes. bb] |

“Where ?”

“In a cellar back of Red Mike’s saloon.”

Miss Jones then told Nick what had happened
since he had parted with her in the afternoon at the ren-
dezvous.

“Tricked and trapped by as cunning a trio of scoundrels
as ever I had professional business with,” was his bitter
comment.

“ Jim Wallace is one,” Miss Jones said.
others.”

“The woman who represented herself to be his second
wife, and one Matt Cooley.” |

“Who is the woman?”

“Matt Cooley’s wife.” |

“How did you make this discovery ?”

“By putting two and two together: I was surprised by
Matt in the room where I expected to find you. Then the
thought instantly flashed into my mind that the woman
in the bar-room was his wife, whom I had heard much
about, but had never seen.”

“She ig the smartest woman in the criminal line that I
ever met,” rejoined Miss Jones. “She’d make her fortune
on the stage.”

The lady detective bit her lip in angry vexation at the
thought of the clever manner in which Mrs. Cooley had
imposed upon her...

Nick meantime tugged fiercely at his bonds, and suc-
ceeded in slightly loosening one of the cords about his
wrists.

An expert in the untying business, it did not take him
long to release himself.

Once free he proceeded to relieve his assistant of her
bonds.

“ Half the battle is won,” he said, in a comforting tone,
as they stood with clasped hands on the damp floor.

“T hope so.”

Then they began an investigation of the cellar.

It appeared to have but one outlet, and tha’ was barred
by a heavy iron door. 5

In the corner of the cellar Nick found a stick of wood. |

It had, probably, been used on his head by Mrs. Cooley,
and thrown into the corner after the detective had been
overcome.

Nick’s revolvers had been taken. from him, but with

“Who are the.

{
}

1
|

“his stick he felt able to make an effective resistance
_ when his enemies should reappear.

After half an hour’s walk up and down the cellar, dur-

been explored, Miss Jones said, despondingly :

“No chance of escape for us, I fear.”

“Don’t worry, Ida, we'll be out of here before morning.”

As he spoke, he began to tap against the farther wall—
the one oppoiste the iron door by which they must have
entered.

To his surprise the wall gave forth a hollow sound,

He tapped another place, a few feet away.

Dull—solid.

On the other side, a few feet from the first attempt, he.
next tried the stick.

Dull again.

Further tapping revealed the fact that hollow sounds
could be obtained in a space three feet square beginning:
at the floor.

The wall in other places was of brick. oe

Here it was plain plaster over laths or thin strips of
boards. :

Fis stick was not heavy enough to be of use in attack-
ing the wall at the weak point, so he began kicking at the
plaster with his feet.

In a few minutes he had made a hole large enough to
admit his body. ‘

The cool air rushed in through the aperture.

“T understand,” he said, as he paused in his work a

i
}

i

moment, “and if we are not svon on the Bowery I’ll miss
my guess. Ss

Miss Jones experienced a thrill of intense relief.

Presently Nick had enlarged the aperture so that she
could crawl through with ease.

The-detective went first to assure himself that all was
safe beyond, and then assisted her to follow.

They were still far below the surface of the ground, but
above them was no other covering than the star-studded
heavens.

In the half light they could distinguish their surround-
ings. 2, :

The place they were now in was or had been a cellar,
like the one they had just emerged from, but it had caved

in, and the greater part of it was tilled with bricks and

debris.

“Where are we?” asked Miss Jones. wonderingly.

“Not far from Green street, in the ruins of a building
that was destroyed by fire several years ago.

“The main part fronting on the street was rebuilt, but
the rear which at one time was devoted to tenements was
allowed to remain as the fire left it.

‘‘In the old days, if I reason correctly, and from my
knowledge of this quarter J think I do, the cellar we just
crawled out of communicated with the one we are in now,
and must have been used for nefarious purposes by tLe
gang of criminals who used to infest this neighborhood. -

“The opening between the two cellars was probably
closed after the fire, but I don’t think Red Mike or the
villains who entrapped us have the least idea that the
hole was not closed with brick to match the walls about
it.”

The great detective and his assistant now made an at-
tempt to get out of the cellar.

Looking upward Nick judged the distance from the bot- .
tom to the lowest section to the broken wall above to be
about twenty feet.

He climbed the highest pile of debris, to find to his dis-
appointment that it was not more than six feet from the
floor.

He examined the walls for crevices by means of which
he might work his way upward.

But none that were serviceable could be found.

“We are not out of the woods yet,” he remarked rather
gloomily when he gave up his search.

Miss Jones was stooping down tugging at something
when Nick spoke. ;

“Tve made a discovery of some kind,” she said.

Nick went to her assistance, and found that she was
trying to lift a trap-door by means of.the rusty iron ring
held by a staple.

Tl eir combined efforts resulted in success.

The door was raised, and a dark, foul-smelling hole was
revealed.

It was too dark to see how deep it was, and Nick had
no matches, for the thieves who had entrapped him had

: emptied his pockets of everything he possessed.

But a broken brick thrown downward proved that the
depth was not more than seven or eight feet.

“I’m going down there,” said Nick, resolutely, “for the
hole may be the means of our deliverance.”

“And it may lead into the den of the enemy,” returned
Miss Jones.

‘‘No matter,” said Nick, grimly, ‘“‘for I feel able at this
moment with this stick to fight a dozen men.”

He said no more, but swung himself down the trap.

As his feet touched bottom he ex¢laimed :

““T’m in a sort of sub-cellar, and it’s got an outlet be-
yond, for I can see a thin streak of light ahead of me.”

He was about to ask his lady assistant to remain above
until he called her, when she descended close by his side.

“You may need help,” she said, quietly, but resolutely,
“and I am here to give it.”

The courageous woman had armed herself with a brick,
and she walked by Nick’s side as he hastened forward#in
the direction of the light. :

As the detective had imagined, it came from the cracks
of a door.

The door was of wood, and to Nick’s surprise and satis-
faction it was not locked.

He had turned the knob and partially opened it, when

  
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i4 NICK CARTER LIBRARY.

 

No. $2,

 

 

a light, which had come from a lantern, went out, and a

pistol-shot was heard close at hand, which was quickly |.
followed by another and another.

Regardless of his personal safety the detective rushed.
out to ascertain the cause of the shooting.

Loud cries and curses greeted his ears from the long!
corridor in which he found himself.

“T)—-_n you, take that,” hissed a voice he recognized
as Matt Cooley’s, and a heavy thud was heard the next
instant, followed by a shriek of mortal agony.

Some one had been murdered.

Nick thought of Chick and Patsy, and with lips com-
pressed and eyes flashing ominously he pressed forward
for the scene of the tragedy, stick in hand.

A door suddenly opened in front of him as he hurried
on, and a flood of light was thrown into the corridor.

A strange spectacle met the great detective’s eyes.

In the door beyond. stood Red Mike.

On the floor before him two men were struggling in a
deadly embrace, while just beyond them was another
man lying dead with his head in a pool of blood.

For one second Nick gazed at the scene, and then, on
the impulse of the moment, he sprang forward, and
brought his stick of wood down on Red Mike’s head.

The saloon keeper was taken completely by surprise,
for his eyes had been riveted upon the combatants, and he
had not seen the detective.

As Red Mike fell and did not move Ida Jones made use
of the brick which she had brought from the cellar above.

It struck one of the combatants on the floor between the
eyes, and made him see more stars than ever the heavens
had unfolded to his gaze.

Then the man he had been struggling with arose to his
feet.

“The tricky cuss wears brass knuckles,” he said, “and
I got a taste of them just now.”

The speaker was Chick.

CHAPTER VII.
‘THE FLAT ROBBER IN THE TOILS.

Nick gave Chick a look of approval, and then both of
them proceeded to bind the two living rascals hand and
foot.

When this operation was over Nick stooped to gaze into
the face of the man who was lying in a pool of blood.

It was that of a ruffian who had given the police much
trouble.

He had been a Bowery fighter, a tough of the worst
description, and during his life could have been hired for
the commission 6f any crime however heinous, murder
not excepted.

‘Plug Masson,” said Nick, in see ‘And how did
this happen, Chick’ tee ~

‘*Matt Cooley made a mistake, that’s how.”

“T see. He took Masson for you in the darkness.”

‘“You’ve struck it.”

‘““Now tel) me how you came here.”

“Piping Jim Wallace brought me here.”

‘You shadowed him from the moment he left the ferry
and got on the Elevated at Kast Twenty-third street ?”

66 99

1 Go ou

‘Twas a passenger on the car with him in my new
character of the Dutchman, and I followed him to a house
in Kast One Hundred and Thirty-eighth street, where he
lives.”

“Ah! that’s news, indeed, Chick. And what kind of a
house is it?”

“A regular palace.
finer.”

“Just as I thought.”

Madison avenue can’t ee up a

“He went in this swell place,” Chick continued, “and |

staid there an hour. A servant let him in.
», “When he came out a‘handsome woman kissed him
good-by at the door.”

“That was his Connecticut wife.”

“T found that out by overhearing what they said.

“ *Good-by, Jim,’ were her words, ‘and don’t be out
late to-night, for we’re to go to Connecticut to-morrow,

“ *T’!l sit up for,you then,’ she said.

-“Wallace:lett her to board an Highth avenue car.

“He got off at the Park, and went on to a shady spot
near the Croton Reservoir.

“Here he was met by Plug Masson.

“I was within hearing distance, but concealed from —

view when they began talking.
“Tt seems that our quarry had made an appointment for

‘this place with Matt Cooley.

“Matt had not come, but had sent Plug instead.

“The news the Bowery bravo brought almost paralyzed
Wallace.

‘ ‘Nick Carter is onto you,’ Plug said, ‘and one of his
detectives expects to meet you to night at Red Mike’s.’
“*The duse she does,’ Wallace ejaculated, in alarm.
‘But I won’t be there though.’

“ ‘Oh, yes, you will,’ says Masson, and.related to nim
the scheme Matt Cooley and his clever wife had rigged up
to entrap you and Miss Jones.

‘Wallace breathed a sigh of relief when he had grasped
the situation.

roe think I will go dowr to Mike’s,’ he said, with a
fierce oath, ‘and I’ll square accounts with the man who
put me in a hole six years ago.’

“T shadowed the pair,” said Chick,
enter a tough crib on Green street.
“They passed through the bar-room to the rear, and
then I lost sight of them.

“It was after dark, and I hunted about,the back prem-
ises until I began to fear that if I staid there much
longer I might not be in time to save you and Miss Jones
from the terrible fate that was evidently in store for both
of you.

*T knew the pair would finally bring up at Red Mike's
in the Bowery, and I wus well satisfied that there was a
means of communication between this shebang and the
Green street crib.

“ “T’ll go to Mike’s,’ I said to myself, ‘and I'll clean out
the whole place, but I’) find the men I’m after.’ ”

“That’s old reckless Chick that spoke then,” said Nick,
with a smile.

But the smile was an approving one.

“‘T got into the Bowery and into Mike’s just as Matt
Cooley was coming out of the back room.

“He paid no attention to me, and I could see that his
face was very pale and that he was breathing heavily.

“My heart sank then, for I feared that he and Wallace
might have got away with you, Nick, for good, while ag
for Miss Jones——”

Chick hesitated, and the lady assistant shuddered at
the thought of the terrible danger which she had escaped.

“What did Cooley do?” asked Nick, quickly.

“ He called Red Mike aside, aiid they held a whispered
consultation of a few moments’ duration.

“Then Mike handed Cooley a big key, and the latter went
to the door of the back room, opened it, and passed from

‘“‘and saw them

_ | sight.

“What could I do?
“Tf I followed I would have Red Mike at my heels and
a score of toughs besides for aught I knew to the con-

trary.

came to the worst, but in a flash a better way to work my
points was suggested.

“T walked carelessly to the door so as not to excite sus-
picion, and when I got outside I yelled ‘Fire!’ with all
my might.

“The bar-room was cleared in an instant, Red Mike
being the first to reach the sidewalk.

“He had an idea that the old rattletrap of a building
that held his disreputable joint. might be in danger. ~

“T slid into the saloon during the excitement that fol-
lowed, and was out of sight in the back room before he re-
turned to his place behind the bar.

“ A door was open on the side.

“Tt was a secret arrangement, and slid back into the

 

you know.’ eee
“ *T’ll be back before midnight, Jennie, sure.’

partition.”

“That was not the door I was taken. bareuee ” said
Nick.

“No, because you went into the cellar.”

66 Yes. 9

“T was willing to buck against these oddsif the worst |

    

 

Nee

 

   
   
   
  
     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
No. 82.

NICK CARTER LIBRARY.

15

 

 

 

 

“1 did not stop-to ask why it had beea left open—

\though I think now it was Cooley’s carelessness that did
it—-but hurried through the opening into a corridor, which
led to a stair-way going downward.

“A lantern’s light warned me to be careful as I went
down the stairs.

* At the first landing I heard voices.

“Two men were in conversation—Matt Cooley and Plug
Masson.

“They had left you, Nick, and Miss Jones bound and
insensible in the cellar, and they were discussing the best
means of getting rid of both of you forever.

“Masson was for knocking you on the head, and dump-
ing you into the river, while Cooley, well, never mind
what Cooley proposed. It was something worse, though,
you may be assured.”

Again Miss Jones shuddered.

“T soon discovered that the two villains were in a sub-
cellar.” resumed Chick, “and that it ran aleng parallel
with Red Mike’s bar-room, and that one means of enter-
ing it was by a stair-way directly under the bar-counter.”

“ Where we are, now?” said Nick.

“Yes.”

“They were moving toward the stair-way where I was,
in order to go back and drag their victims down to the sub-
cellar, which Iimagined communicated in some portion
with the sewer.

“T made a step upward to get out of the way when as
luck would have it one of my keys fell from a hole in my
pocket, and went rattling down the stairs.

“A shout from the trio of villains warned me that my
presence had been discovered.

“There was but one thing to do, and that was to make
a bold stand.

“JT therefore turned, whipped out my revolver, and
blazed away as they came for me.

“The first shot struck the lantern which Cooley held,
and the sub-cellar was in darkness in an instant.

“ What happened afterward you can readily surmise.

“Cooley mistook Masson for your humble servant, and
put a knife into him.

“He discovered his mistake only when I clutched him
by the throat.”

The great detective was
Wallace from the scene.

Tf the clever flat robber had gone away from the prem-
ises with the idea that all was safe, and that Miss Jones
and Nick were prisoners, the way would be clear to his
arrest under proper conditions. nN

The question, then, was, had he left the place, or was
he concealed somewhere ?

The answer came in a moment in a most surprising
way.

A voice called down from the bar-room through the
opening by which Red Mike had reached the sub-cellar.

It was the voice of Jim Wallace, and it said :

“How is it, Matt? All right?”

disappointed at the absence of

Cooley had recovered consciousness, and was about to!

answer in words that would have spoiled the game for
Nick Carter, had not the latter instantly raised his stick
over the prostrate villain’s head, and hissed these words
in a menacing whisper :

“ Answer ‘all right,’ or (’1l brain you.”

Matt Cooley blinked his eyes, but kept his lips shut.

“Are you there, Matt?” came the voice again from
above.

“Bor the last time,” came the threatening whisper,
os OL

The stick was beginning to descend, when Cooley spoke.

“Tm here,” he answered, “and it’s all right.”

“Shall I come down 2”

&“ No.”

“Good, for I promised Jennie to be home before twelve.
But say, didn’t 1 hear a pistol-shot or two a minute ago?”

“T was shooting at a bat.”

This answer was prompted by Nick

“Where’s Mike?”

“Gone to see to the prisoners.”

“That's right. Keep them till to-morrow
fix’em. Good-night.”

' + “Good-night.”

. then we'll

 

The conversation ceased.

Nick whispered a few words to Chick.

Young Hercules nodded, and when Jim Wallace reached
home his meeting with his wife at the door was witnessed
by Nick’s faithful assistant.

Before the great detective and Miss Jones left Red
Mike’s they learned that the subterranean rooms and
passages which they had traversed had been used in by-
gone days by a powerful secret society of criminals.

Matt Cooley and Mike were conveyed to the Tombs, and
Nick having received assurance from Inspector Steers
that the fact of the arrest should be kept secret for twenty-
four hours, went home and took a much-needed rest.

It is needless to say that Miss Ida Jones slept well, also.

Chick was not so fortunate, for he remained all night
watching Jim Wallace’s palatial house. .

At ten o'clock in the forenoon of the next day, the
clever flat robber left his home and went to a livery stable
on East One Hunderd and Thirty-seventh street, where he
hired a horse and light wagon for the ostensible purpose
of driving to the races.

In front of a house on West One Hundred and Twenty-
fifth street he stopped, and alighted.

Chick and Nick were not far away.

Wallace went to the door, had afew words of conyer-
sation with the servant, and then went inside.

In a short time he came out hurriedly with bulging
pockets, and, jumping into the wagon, drove rapidly off.

He was followed to a Harlem pawnshop, and, while he
was showing a diamond ring and diamond collar-button
to the pawnbroker, Nick and Chick entered quickly and
arrested him.

He fought like a tiger, but was soon. overpowered.

After he had been taken to police headquarters, the two
detectives proceeded to his house on Hast One Hundred
and Thirty-eighth street.

His pretty wife was found in the parlor in easy conver-
sation with Miss Ida Jones.

This time .the lady detective had worked her points
well.

Mrs. Wallace No. 2'was not of a vicious turn of mind,
and she talked freely and frankly when she found such a
sympathizer as Miss Ida Jones proved to be.

The house was furnished like a palace, and the stolen
plunder that was removed from it approximated twenty
thousand dollars in value.

Nearly all the different articles were afterward identi-
fied by Harlem flat tenants.

Mrs. Wallace cried bitterly when informed that her
darling Jim had been arrested, and declared that he was
hers, and that she was going to have him again, despite
the law and that other woman.

Mrs. Cooley made her escape, and still is at large.

Her husband and Red Mike got six years each.

Nick Carter took such an: interest in the case that he
personally accompained Jim Wallace to the criminal
court.

“Your career of crime is over,” said Nick, as he con-
ducted Wallace from the wagon to the court-room, in
Chambers street.

Jim Wallace was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to
fourteen years and six months in the State prison.

The judge in passing sentence complimented Nick Car-
ter and his assistants for the valuable work
for the benefit of society, in ridding it for a long time of
the presence of one of the most deeply-dyed criminals in
the United States.

As for Inspector Steers, his gratitude to Nick for his
quick and effective campaign was unbounded.

Patsy came over from Brooklyn too late to be of any
service at the wind-up.

“Never mind,” he said, mysteriously, “you haven’t
got Mrs. Cooley yet. Perhaps she’ll fall into my hands
some day. Who knows?”

(THE END.)

The Nick Carrer Liprary has the largest circulation
of any Library ever published.
“THE FREIGHT THIEVES ; or, Nick CARTER’S EXPERT Ex-

posuRE,” by the authorof “ Nick. Carter,” will be published
in the next number (83) of the NICK CARTER LIBRARY.

 

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16

NICK CARTER LIBRARY.

 

 

.10—NICK CARTER’S DOUBLE GAME; Or,
. 11—NICK CARTER IN
. 12—CHECK No. 777; Or,
os, 009 MILES BY FREIGHT; Or,

.15--THE FATE OF DOCTOR QUARTZ; Or,
. 17—NICK CARTER’S GREAT PERIL; Or,
.18—THE GREAT

. 19—
“20 BROUGH? TO BAY AT

. 26—NICK
. 28
_ 99-NICK CARTER’S MYSTERIOUS CASE; Or,

_ 30.—MAD MADGE,

, 32—NICK CARTER IN KANSAS CITY ; Or,

. 36-
. 37—NICK CARTER IN BALTIMORE ;

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I—NICK CARTER, DETECTIVE. Tue Sonvurion or A ReE-
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3—A MILLION DOLLAR CHECK; Or,
Work. By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

4—ONE AGAINST TWENTY- ONE; Or, THe Rancnu Roppery.
By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.’

5—THE CIPHER LETTER; Or, Nick Carrsr’s Iron NERVE,
By the Author of ‘‘Nick Car ter.”

6—NICK CARTER IN PHILADELPHIA; Or, THe Nicur Hawks
OF THE QuakER Crry., By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

7—OLD 'THUNDERBOLT, LOCOMOTIVE; Or, ‘THe PackaGE IN
tHE Mrpnicur Matt. By the Authur of ““Nick Carter.”

8—NICK CARTER BEFORE THE. MAST; Or, A Sea Mysrerry.
By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.’

9—A MAN WITH FOUR IDENTITIES; Or, Tue Lirrne GIANt’s
ProsteM. By the Arthur of ‘Nick Carter.’

Tue GHOST OF

By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

BOSTON; Or, A CuEvER ForGER’s

By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

Huntinec THE Same Man By

the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”’

Ravenswoop Houvuss.

ScHEME.
TWICE.

Tur Mystery or A PIANO

Box. By the Author of “Nick Carter.”

0. 14—THE ‘THIRTEEN’S OATH OF VENGEANCE; Or, A Crr-

By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”
Toe Murprr IN
THE DissEcTING Room. By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

INAL COMPACT.

-16—PACKAGE ‘17 A;” Or, Tae Secrer or a Faminy Freup. By

the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

A Prisoner ror Lire
By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”’

DETECTIVE DEFIED; Or, Zzuma,

By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

GIANT'S TASK; Or, Nick Cartsr’s Won-

By the Author of ‘Nick Carter.”

LAST; Or, Ovrwrrrep, Ouvrt-

By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.’

Wirs tHE Dmrap.
THE

FemMaue Frenp.
THE LITTLE
DERFUL NERVE.

‘GENERALED AND. OUTDONE.

_Q91—NICK CARTER AT WESTERN UNION JUNCTION; Or,

Tur St. Pavi Train Roppery. By the author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

. 22--NICK CARTER’S CELEBRATED CASE; Or, ''HE Mysreriss

or GotHAM. By the Author of ‘Nick Carter.”

_93—THE LITTLE GIANT ON DECK; Or, Tat Great Axnpuc-

tion CasE. By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

 24—NICK CARTER AT GLENDALE; Or, Tur Rospery or THE

‘Frisco Niaur Express. By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

. 25--YOUNG HERCULES, NICK CARTER’S ASSISTANT ; Or, A

Man or Muscur anp Nerve. By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”
CARTER IN SAN FRANCISCO; Or, UNEARTHING

Crime In Cutnatown. By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

. 97-—NICK CAREER IN CHICAGO; Or, Tur Criove or Tae Lares

Carter.”
By the Author of ‘Nick

Crry. By the Anthor of ‘‘Nick

—THE PASSENGER GOING EAST.

Carter.’

Tue Roap-

By the Author of “Nick Carter.”

THE QUEEN OF CROOKS: Or, Ficutine
aw Antrun For. By the Author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

i—A DEAD MAN’S GRIP; Or, THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET,
3y the Author of ‘Nick Garter. Me

House ‘l’raGEepy.

Tur Nicur Hawxs

Revivep. By the Author of ‘Nick Carter.”

No. 33-——THE MYSTERIOUS MAIL BAG ROBBERY ; Or, Nick Care

Ter's Great CatcH. By the Auther of ‘‘Nick "Carter. a

.34-YOUNG HERCULES IN MEXICO: Or, Pruckx anp Muscir

Acainst Stratgecy. By the Author of ‘Nick Carter.”

35 NINETY MILES AN HOUR; Or, Tus Propiem or SEVEN

Deatus. By the Author of ‘ Nick Carter.”
_NICK GARYER IN ST. LOUIS; or, Toe Nicur Hawks’ Last
Scrreecn. By the Author of “Nick Carter. ie
or, Tuer CoNSPIRACY OF

THE Rep Leacus. . By the Author of “Nick Carter.”

_ 38-—NIGK CARTER IN NEW ORLEANS; Or, Tuz Rep LeaGur’s

Tast Errort. By the Author of “Nick Carter.”

. 89—THREE TIMES DEAD ; Or, Nick Carrer In A Tica Prace,

By the Author of ‘ Nick Carter.”

THE GREAT JEWEL ROBBERY ; Or,. Nick Carter AMONG

Tuk Hore. Tureves. By the Author of ‘‘ Nick Carter.”

—THE FOURFOLD MURDER; Or, Nicx Cartsr’s CLEVER
Work in Fnorrpa. By the Author of ‘‘ Nick Carter.”

—THE N. Y. CENTRAL TRAIN ROBBERY; Or, Tue Nervissr
Ovriaw Ative. By the Author of ‘‘ Nick Carter.”

Tur Lirrne GIANT AT

 

No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.

No.
No,
No,
No.

No.
No.
No.
No,
. o7—A MYSTERY OF THE SURF ;: Or,
. 583—NICK CARTER IN CHINATOWN :;

43—THE LETTERS ON THE FLOOR;; Or, Nick Carter’s CLEVER
DercreHer. By the Author of “Nick Carter. 4

44__NICK CARTER ON HIS METTLE; On, A CHaAsE AFTER
A Fortungz — By the Author of ‘Nick Garter,” etc.

45—NICK CARTER’S GREATEST PERIL; Or, On'l'HE Trat,
Or A Human Frenp. By the Author of “Nick ‘Carter, ” ete.

46—THE GOLD BRICK “SWINDLERS ; Or, Nick Canrrer’s
Grear Exposure. By the Author of “Nick Carter,”

47—NICK CARTER ON THE BOWERY ; Or, Tue Terrors Or
OnE Nicur. By the Author of “Nick Carter.”

48—NICK CARTER’S HANDICAP; Or, Won ry a Canter, By
the Author of “Nick Carter.”

49—BOLD MASKED ROBBERS; Or, Nick Carrer’s Live.y
ConFuict. By the Author of “Nick Carter.”

50—NICK CARTER’S FIGHT FOR LIFE; On, Tar Minuionare’s
Nemesis. By the Author of “Nick Carter, sy

51—JUDGE LYNCH’S MISTAKE; On, Nick Carrenr’s Szarcu
FOR A Murprerger. By the Author of “Nick Carter.”

52—A BOLD BANK ROBBERY ; Or, Nick Carrer’s Great Haut,
By the Author of ‘Nick Carter. ”

53—NICK CARTER IN WALL STREET ; Or, Trackine 4 SToLEN
Forrunr. By the author of ‘Nick Carter. a

54—TRICKED AND TRAPPED; Or, Nick Carter’s Green
Goops Haun. By the author of ae Nick Carter.”’

55—ROBBED BY RIVER PIRATES; Or, Nick Carrer AMONG
THE -WuarF Rats. By the author of § ‘Nick Carter.”

56—A DARING DEED; Or, Nick Carrer Soivinc THE OAKLAND
Mystery. By the author of ‘Nick Carter.”

Nick CarTER AT C

By the author of ‘< Nick Carter. a Pel:

Or, ‘Tur Dovers

By the author of “Nick Carter. i en

IsLAND.

CRIMINALS,

. 5J—NICK CARTER AT SING SING; Or, In Hor Pursurr OF

.60—A MYSTERY OF

AN EscapED CRIMINAL. By the author of ‘Nick Carter.”
THE RIALTO; Or, Nick Carrer In

New Yorx. By the author of ‘‘ Nick Carter.”

0. 61_THE GREAT BANK HOLD. UP IN DENVER; Or. Nick

. 63,—THE SIX ACES
. 64.—THE GREAT

No.
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No.

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Carter's Dirricutt Casz. By the auther of “ Nick Carter.”

. 62—-SHOT WITH A ROULETTE BALL; On, Nick Carrer

AMONG 'l'HE oo By the author of “Nick Carter.”

R, Exposine a Great Sw : y
author of ‘Nick Carter. 4 Hine 8
GREEN GOODS SWINDLE; Or, Nick

CartTER’s CLEVER CatcH. By the author of “Nick Car ter. a

. 69—THREE OF A KIND; Or, Nick Cartrr’s WmNNING ae By

the author of “Nick Garter. y

66—THE SNAKE BROOCH; ox, Nick Carrmr’s Srankace Dis-
covery. By the author of “Wick Carter.”
67.—THE DALTON GANG WIPED OUT; or, Nick Carrmr’s-
Deapty Ririx. By the Author of “Nick Carter.”
68--HER SHREWD DOUBLE ; on, Nick Carrer’s Lapy Assisr-
ant aT Work. By the author of ‘*Nick Carter.”
69.—THE HYPNOTIST’S VICTIM; ox, Nick Carrer’s Compr
ie ee CASE. ee author of “Nick Carter.”
K CARTER IN PITTSBURGH ; or, Escarep
By the author of ‘‘Nick Carter.” = Tan

71—_THE SUBURBAN SAFE CRACKERS; or, Nick Ginna 8
ee Se ea re

72— +H; on, Nick Ca
Casz. Ry the author of ‘‘Nick Carter. He a

73—A CLEVER CRIMINAL; or, Nick Carrer’s Fortunate
Cumw. By the author of “Nick Carter.”

74—THE LAST OF THE GLENDALE GANG; or, Nick Carren’s
Great Success. By the author ‘Nick Carter. 4

75-—THE CINCINNATI. BANK SWINDLE; or, Nicx Cartur’s
Great Forcery Case. By the author of “Nick Carter.”

76-—A MURDER IN THE SNOW: on, Nick Carter’s Cuntous
Cass. By the author of ‘Nick Carter.”

77.—BAGGAGE, CHECK x623; or, Nick Carrer “Amone tHE
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79.—“THE $35,000 SWINDLE ; or Nick Carrer anv THE InsuR-

ANCE Fraups.” ‘By the author of ‘‘Nick Carter.”

80—THE PRINCE OF CROOKS; or, Nick Carter’s Crever.
Scueme. By the author of “Nick Carter.”’

8i—_TRACKED TO MONTREAL; OR, NICK CARTER’S LONG CHASH,

By the author of “Nick Carter.”

82—-FROM PALACE TO PRISON ; on, Nick Carrer’s Caprurr
oF A Swett Crook. By the author of “Nick Carter.”

88—THE FREIGHT THIEVES ; or, Nick Cartrrr’s Expurr Ex-
posuRE. By the author of “Nie Carter,” :

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