es

a Loy Cabin Library (esiion 10 Cents

 

GENTLEMAN JOE'S

(NOILIGS £3490d
_AaVYs! NisVo 907

Bee gee

of Wacienor a
DY aie GENTLEMAN JOE

 

No; 29,| STREET & SMITH, Publishers, "y's" Sie

 
 

 

 
"Issued Weekly. By subscription $5 per year. November 1, 1899.
Entered as second-class matter at N. Y. post-office.

 

(Gentleman Joe’s Denver Duet:

OR,

THE HOTSPUR FROM HARD-PAN.

BY

THE AUTHOR OF ‘ GENTLEMAN JOE.”

NEW YORK
_ STREET & SMITH, PupLisHEers
238 WILLIAM STREET

 
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1896, by
STREET & SMITH, in the oftice of the Librarian
of Congress at Washington, D.C.

JNA

 
ANY ES TE

THE HOTSPUR FROM TARD- PAN.

By the Author of « “GENTLEMAN JOE.”

CHAPTER I.
A BLIND GAME BEGUN.

“There’s one way to prove it, my young fire-eater, and
since you are so cock-sure that it’s all right I'll trot you

Se over to the office of the Silver Gulch Mining Company and

put you face to face with Joseph Gentry himself!”

“‘And so make me lose my train! And if I lose my train
then I lose my trade, and if the trade is lost——”’

“You needn’t string it out any longer. If a man pre-
sents a check for such a sum of money as that when there
isnocash to the credit of the one who draws it, then

_ there must be something crooked. That’s all there is to
Bate 2
The first speaker wore brass buttons.and a helmet. He
was Jim Nary of the Denver police, and a more faithful
officer never paced a pavement.
The other, within whose arm the officer had linked his
own in a manner which did not exactly indicate good-
fellowship, was a young man with bright blue eyes and 2

 
check which had just been refused by the cashier of one
of the leading banks in the city of Denver. The check
was made payable to Walter L. Wayne, and the young
man declared that he had a perfect right to bear that name
and sign it and to do anything else that he pleased with it
except to dishonor it.

This right had not been disputed by Jim Nary, the
policeman. 3

What Jim Nary’s exception was to the decisive manner
in which the young man declared that Joseph Gentry,
sometimes called Gentleman Joe, President of the Silver
Gulch Mining Company, had drawn that check in the
presence of the young man himself, and directed him to
present it at that bank for payment.

There had been several large checks presented at. the
sank that day bearing Joseph Gentry’s signature.

The cashier knew Joseph Gentry and so he did not hesi-

tate to pay the two which had been presented first. —

Yet Joseph Gentry, or Gentleman Joe as they called
him sometimes, even at the bank, made it a matter of
principle as well as of credit never to overdraw his account.
Consequently when Walter L. Wayne presented a check for
eight thousand dollars bearing Joseph Gentry’s signature,
while there had been already several thousand drawn on
Mr. Gentry’s account since the last cent to his credit had
been paid out, the gentlemanly cashier, to so eXpress it,
kicked.

The cashier did not exactly refuse to hand the money
ever to Mr. Wayne.

He was both too polite and too crafty to do that.

Instead, he asked the young man to be kind enough to-
wait a minute, and then stepped into the president’s —

- office.

 
 

It was not the president that the cashier wished to see,
_but the office-boy whom he knew to be waiting inside.
And within thirty seconds this same office-boy was on the
sidewalk requesting Jim Nary, the policeman, to step into
the front entrance of the bank and nab the young crook,
who was trying to pull out eight thousand dollars on
a forged check.

On the strength of this suggestion, Policeman Jim Nary
had coolly sauntered into the bank and laid his hand not
at all affectionately on the shoulder of Walter Wayne.

We will not in detail repeat the scene which occurred
in the bank.

Walter Wayne had turned upon the officer, glared at
him, and then tried to break away from him.

But Jim Nary weighed two hundred and thirty pounds
_withcut being at all fat. Those who knew him said that
‘at least one hundred pounds was clear muscle.

The consequence was that Walter Wayne was no more
than a baby in the big policeman’s hands.

As soon as he had found that there was no use in strug-
gling the young man had come to his senses and surren- |
dered. .

The policeman did not offer to put irons on to the
fellow. Indeed, Jim Nary made it a practice never to put
irons on a man until he had taken him to the station
house. He declared that if he ever got hold of a man that
he couldn’t handle without the aid of iron bracelets or
twisters that he was willing to let him go.

This explains why the florid-faced young man in gentle-

S manly attire was walking arm-in-arm with the biggest

policeman in the city of Denver toward the office of the
_ Silver Gulch Mining Company.

 
 

After a few words of explanation had been spoken the
young man showed no objection to going to the office of
the Mining Company except for one reason.

He declared that he must take a certain train which
left the city. He must have the money on that check and
get to the station at that time.

If he failed to reach his destination on the day appointed
he would forfeit a large sum of money on a transaction
which he had arranged to make.

The young man told a straight story.

But his face was so red, his voice shook so with passion,
and he tried to flourish his arms about so much when he
was speaking tat Policeman Jim Nary, the gentlemanly

cashier of the bank and the boy who lad gone after the ,

policeman simply looked at him and smiled incredulously.

“You tell a very pretty story,’’ said the policeman,
“and you tell it so well that it’s a pity to let it go by
- without letting Joseph Gentry hear it himself. Gentleman
Joe appreciates that sort of a thing—I know Joseph
Gentry myself.”

So declared Jim Nary as he marched his prisoner along ;
toward the office of the Silver Gulch Mining Company.

They had only a few blocks to go, and they walked at
such a rapid pace that they were at their destination
within five minutes after leaving the bank.

Upon inquiry inside it was learned that Joseph Gentry
was out at that time but that he would return in half an
hour.

“But I as wait!’’ exclaimed Walter Wayne, with
another burst of excitement.
‘‘What are you going to do about it?’’ was the mild in-
quiry of Policeman Jim Nary. a=

“IT want you to hunt up Mr. Gentry and tell himthefix {|

 

 
Imin. J _ start along and be about it and I’H wait for
- you here.’
 *Oh, yes, only I aloe I won’t do it,’’ smiled Jim Nary.

And why not, I would like to know?”’

“Oh, well, you just put on your thinking-cap and see if
you can’t find some good reason why I shouldn’t give you
a blooming chance to catch your train and skip out of
Denver. No, my young friend, Ihave got my heart set
upon keeping you in the cooler to-night, and unless Joseph
Gentry says no, that’s where you’ll sojourn.”’

‘‘Mean to shut me up in the police station, do you?”’
“TI mean to keep you real safe until your case can be dis-

posed of. But we won’t go there just yet—you are so
- anxious to see Joseph Gentry that we'll just sit here in
Joseph Gentry’s office and wait till Joseph Gentry comes
back. I haven’t had a picnic for a good while, and if I’m
not mistaken there’s going to be a good one about the
_ time that Joseph Gentry steps in here and we tell him our
_ little yarn.”

You think that I didn’t get that check from Mr. Gen-
try himself, don’t you?’’ Walter Wayne demanded for
about the twentieth time.
“T’m not thinking very much about it. Iam simply
waiting to hear the other side of the story. If you feel
happy then just stand still and look pleasant over it.
That’s all you have got to do!”
_ Walter Wayne stamped his foot on the mosaic floor of

the elegant little office. They were in the outer office at
the moment, The president’s private room was beyond
the railing, and they would not be allowed to intrude
upon that unless Gentleman Joe were there himself.

The young man continued to rave and fume, although

 
he did not swear, and Jim Nary noticed this and won-
dered at it.

Most of the hard tickets with whom Jim Nary had
transacted business were given to profanity, especially if
they had such an irascible temper as this young man
seemed to be possessed of.

The prisoner continued to chafe and fume while Jim
Nary calmly kept the young man’s arm linked in his and
waited.

The minutes passed slowly to the policeman as well as
to the prisoner. But at last the appointed number ebbed
away and with his usual punctuality Gentleman Joe was
seen to cross the street and approach the entrance of hig
office.

Joseph Gentry in the city of Denver did not look very
much unlike the Gilt-Edged Sport of the mining towns.
He was always rather nattily dressed and always cool,

handsome, and polite.

He came into the office in his easy way and said, on
recognizing the officer:

‘*How are you, Jim? Waiting to see me?’’

But before the policeman could reply the eyes of Genta
man Joe fell upon the face of Walter Wayne, and the
President of the Silver Gulch Mining Company started
back with an ejaculation of astonishment.

“Mr. Wayne, and back here! What is the meaning of

this? Why, your train left the city ten minutes ago!”’

‘‘Because this muckle-head of a policeman wouldn’t take
a gentleman’s word,’’ the young man cried.

‘‘What is the meaning of this, Jim?”’

Gentleman Joe turned to the officer, and the blue eyes
of the speaker met the blue eyes of the policeman, and
there was something very like a trace of anger in them.

 
  

“Don’t slop over, Gentleman Joe. Hear both sides of
; the story.”’
_ This was the response of Policeman Nary.
“Out with it quick, then!’’
a “Then answer me one question, Mr. Gentry, and every-
thing will be all right. Did you draw a check payable to
mS this young man for eight thousand dollars on this day?”
d. | “To be sure I did, and I reckon my credit is good for
another one just like it without the interference of a
common patrolman of the streets of Denver!’ was the 3
dd sharp retort.
iS' The cheeks of Policeman Nary flushed and his eyes
iS flashed. ,
He was a good-tempered man and he liked J oseph Gen-
y try.. But this was like a slap in the face, and it started his
_ temper.
Fe ‘You haven’t heard both sides of the story yet. I was
ordered to arrest this man by the cashier of the bank
_ where you deposit your money. You know the cashier ef
the bank, and you know me. Iam responsible to him and
he to you, and there the matter ends. If you say that I
am to take my hand off this young man’s arm I’ll do it.
But this is the first time that I ever saw you when you
‘wasn’t civil even to a common patrolman.”’

‘Release Mr. Wayne, if you please. Pardon me for my
_ remark—I ought to have known that Jim Nary would
have been doing nothing more nor less than simply his -
duty as an officer. NowIam willing: to hear both sides
and all sides of the story.”’

In a few words Walter Wayne told of his arrest and the
explanation of it which had been given him by the police-
‘man.

_ Gentleman Joe listened to the story without interrupt-

 

yi
R
Bare.

 

 

  
  

 

 

  
ing, although an expression came into his face which was
seldom seen there.

‘‘Do you say, Jim,’’ Gentleman Joe asked, when the
young man had ceased speaking, ‘‘that the cashier told
you that I had been overdrawing my account?”’

“That’s what he told me, sir.’’

‘Did he say how much?”’ A

“The cashier knows his business, and he doesn’t tattl
that of the bank or its patrons even to a patrolman. ”’

‘‘Did he give you to understand that the account had
been overdrawn by a large amount?”’

“Ves, sir.”’

“Then either the cashier lied or he has been imposed
upon.”’

Walter Wayne had already been released, and now that
the hand of the officer was not touching him he did not
seem to be in such a hurry to go.

He had lost his train and probably the transaction —
which had been of so much importance had been forfeited —

also.

There was no longer any use in fretting over the matter.

**We’ll go to the bank and find out about this.’’ .

It was Gentleman Joe who spoke, and with Walter
Wayne at his side and Jim Nary striding along close be-
hind them, Gentleman Joe covered the distance between
his own office and the bank ina remarkably short spac
of time.

The cashier saw Joseph Gentry even before he reache
the door. At the same time he recognized his companion
and in a flash he realized that something was wrong—
something even more out of the way than he had sup-
posed. ;

A moment later Gentleman Joe was shown three checks

 
bearing his signature which might have deceived even

himself, all of which had been cashed that day by three
different persons over the desk of that bank.

_ he aggregate of the checks was fifteen thousand dol-
lars. Asit chanced he had only six thousand on deposit

| that morning, so his account had been overdrawn scme
nine thousand dollars.

, it was no wonder that the cashier had been suspicious
: when still another check had been presented at the desk
_ for payment.

_ “I didn’t mind the second one that was presented,’’ said
the cashier, lowering his voice. ‘‘Since that was presented
by yourself, and I assumed that you would make a deposit
soon.”’

Quick as a flash the right hand of Gentleman Joe shot

_ out and fell on the cashier’s shoulder.

‘‘Have you gone out of your senses, man, or are you
playing a bluff?’ the Gilt-Edged Sport exclaimed, ina
voice which made the cashier recoil and turn pale.

CHAPTER II.

A BOLD BLUFF.

‘The cashier was a middle-aged man and in reality he
and Joseph Gentry were personal friends.

Indeed Joseph Gentry had obtained for him the position.
_ It was no wonder, therefore, that the man was taken
aback at this sudden and fierce demonstration on the part.
of Gentleman Joe.

‘What do you mean, Mr. Gentry?’’ he demanded.

“That's exactly the question that I want you to an-

‘swer,’’ was the stern response.

 
‘‘T mean exactly whatI say. The second one of these
checks was presented by yourself.”’

‘“You are perfectly sure of it, are you?”’

‘AS ae of itasIlam thatIam talking with you this
minute.’

“Then either you or I pee been pretty drunk to-day.
If my memory serves me right I have not stepped into
this institution since the day before yesterday until about
ten minutes ago.”’

The cashier for a moment seemed fairly stunned by La
declaration. _

When he had begun speaking it was in tones too low for ~
the policeman and Walter Wayne to hear.

But he no longer attempted to speak in a cautious key.

‘‘Look at the date of that check, will you?’’ the cashier.
exclaimed, holding the check before the eyes of Gentle- —
man Joe.

“IT see that it is dated to-day and that it bears my name
at the bottom and: is made payable to myself. The name
signed to it is a forgery—though a very good one. J never
saw it—I didn’t present it—I haven’t been in the bank —
before to-day—and you have been outrageously and
ridiculously taken in.’’ 4

The cashier drew a long breath.

**Well, I'll swallow the pill,’’ he said, ‘‘but I could have
sworn that the man who handed me that check over the
desk at a quarter past eleven this morning was Joseph
Gentry. It simply amounts to this: There are two of you e
in the city of Denver and the other is playing high ju
with your name and at your expense.”’

Gentleman Joe had been excited a minute before. But
now he was as calm as a clock. a

‘You say that the check was presented ata quarter past —

 
  

  
 

 
  

4
ig

shone ais ina acini

ACTED rene cs cintoki ks DU to

Sa:

 

 

 

 

eleven this morning?’’ he demanded, in a voice which had
suddenly become brusque and business-like.

“That was just the moment.”’ >

‘‘ And the one you took for me pocketed the money and.
went out?”’

‘‘He didn’t go out directly. He stepped into the office to
see the president as you have frequently done.”’

‘‘Was the president in?’’

‘‘No, he is out of town. But the office-boy was in there

and he saw you, or the one we took for you, and he will

testify to it.”
The cashier touched a bell, and a minute after the same

boy who had called the policeman appeared upon the -

scene,
He corroborated the statement of the cashier in every
particular. And when Gentleman Joe declared again that

he had not been in the bank before that day the boy

simply smiled incredulously.
‘‘T reckon that Mr. Gentry must have turned too many

- corners this morning,’ the Poy chuckled in an aside to

Jim Nary.
“Shut up, Dan!’’ was the ator of the big policeman.
“Tt looks that way, that’s all. Inever saw Mr. Gentry
on a regular booze, but if he says that he didn’t come into

this bank at about eleven o’clock this forenoon, then —

either he is pretty badly out of fix or I need a\pair of ten
horse-power goggles to make me see straight. ”’

These last words spoken by the office-boy were spoken
Joud enough for the Gilt-Edged Sport to hear.

Walter Wayne had listened to all without uttering a

comment.
So deeply intercating had the situation become that he

had evidently forgotten his own misfortune in his anxiety

to hear the outcome.

y

*

   

4,
4

  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
  

 

“Did this other Joseph Gentry give any hint as to
where he would light after going out of here?’’ Gentleman
Joe asked.

““No, he didn’t say a word about it.”’

‘*Was his voice like mine as well as his face?’’

**Voice, face, height, gait—everything. It was either
you or one’of the most perfect doubles that a man ever
had yet.”’

‘All right,’’ said Gentleman Joe, while something like
a grim smile relaxed his lips. ‘‘This double of mine and I

_are in for a duet, so listen for the music.”’

Gentleman Joe turned to Walter Wayne and said:

‘Shall you leave Denver to-night or not?’’

“There is no use in my going back. The transaction is
spoiled most probably and 1 might as well take it easy and
watch the outcome of this affair.’’

Gentleman Joe stepped to the telephone and called up
the cashier of another bank.

‘*How much have I with you to my credit at this hour?”
was his question.

**Your account is overdrawn just four hundred dollars, ”
was the response that came back in the ‘“‘still, small
voice’’ over the wire.

‘‘And how much to my credit this morning?’’ Gentle.
man Joe continued, without a change in his voice.

‘‘Something like fifteen thousand dollars.”’

*“*Have you seen me in your bank to-day?”’

“You drew out a check yourself for three thousand.’’

“Allright. That’s all.’

Gentleman Joe turned to Jim Nary and said:

“It appears that this is my day for drawing money.
What I have done with so much is more than I can tell,

Nr cn rR a cn na

on plgmm tte ete AA AOTLT I CA A TER

 

   

}
:
i
|
|
|

 

 

  
 

 

 

Nh

  
 

 

 

  

for I haven’t over seven dollars in cash in my pocket at

the present time. Ihave not gambled, I have not been

intoxicated, and I am in full possession of all my senses.

_ So you see what sort of a game is being played. I would

like to have you report it to police headquarters and if
you can manage to keep my double from getting out of
town until I can be brought face to face with him, then
you'll be doing me a favor which I will never forget be-
sides saving the banksa lot of money. As it happens I
can prove that I could not have come into either this bank
or the other one at the hour the cashiers named, since I
have two or three competent to swear that I was in
another part of the city at that time. A mighty neat game
is being played and this time if seems that I am to be the
target.”’

‘“There’s one tough point about this case,’’ said Jim
Nary.

“Tt strikes me that there aren’t many tender points
about it. But what have you in mind?’’

‘‘Supposing that I should run across this other Joseph
Gentry, how am Ito know that it isn’t you? If he has
fooled everybody else why can’t he fool me? And as for
that matter, how am Ito know that you aren’t the other
one at the present minute?”’

This side of the question certainly had its humorous
aspect, and Gentleman Joe appreciated it.

“There are several scars upon my body that would save
you from mixing me up with the other one teetotally.
Just as a test-mark let me say that there isa scar on my
neck almost down to the shoulder the shape of a crescent,
and itis on the left side. It was made in a pretty tough
tussle right here in Denver a few years ago. If the other
Joseph Gentry carries a mark just like thaton his neck

 

  
then I am willing that he should sign my checks. That’s
a perfectly straight offer.’’

Policeman Nary made his way directly to headquarters,

while Gentleman Joe and Walter Wayne repaired to a
hotel near by where Wayne had been stopping.

The young man’s baggage, what little he had, had been
taken to the station in season for the train which he had
expected to take.

As they presented themselves at the desk the hotel clerk
eyed them rather curiously and remarked:

**So you found each other, did you?”’

“I didn’‘t know that we had been hunting for each
other,’’ Wayne replied. ‘‘ButIshall have to ask you to
hold my room for me as I can’t get out of the city till to-
morrow and may not be ready to go then.”’

**You can have your room all right. But when Mr. Gen-
try came in an hour ago andI told him that you were

going out of the city on a certain train, he smiled and
said that he didn’t think you would go. He went out to
hunt you up.’’

Walter Wayne glanced at his companion and saw a
curious smile upon the latter’s face,

"You say that I called for Mr. Wayne an | hour ago?’”
Gentleman Joe asked.

**You certainly did.’’

‘*And I said that I didn’t believe that Mr. Wayne would
leave the city on a certain train?’’

“That’s what you said.’’

‘Did I say that I would come back here with Mr. Wayna

after I found him?”’
“I should think you might recollect your own words.
No, you didn’t say anything of that kind, but you did say

ae

 
   
 

 
 

eat
on |
ill i

Gen

wen

ut ty

a |

a0!"
onl

ut

rds
say

 

   

that if you didn’t find Mr. Wayne in the course of an hour
or two that you would return here and inquire.’’

‘‘Very well—we won’t have any trouble about it. I
think I will go up to Mr. Wayne’s room as I want to have

a little talk. And if you see me go in or go out while you

think Iam with him just ask me to ae ne ring for Mr.
Wayne, as he wants to keep track of me.’ '

The clerk stared first at Gentleman J oe and then at the
young man.

It is not often that a hotel clerk takes the trouble to
look surprised at anything. In fact, all human possibilities
have happened at one time and another under the observa-
tion of a hotel clerk, and itis not to be expected that he |
will show much surprise.

Yet this particular dignitary actually stared and looked
as if he would like to ask some questions.

But he denied himself the privilege and Walter Wayne
said:

“That’s all right. If Mr. Gentry comes in and inquires
for me within the next half-hour just ring for me. T shall
‘want to see him.”’

The next minute the pair were being hoisted up four
flights on an elevator and five minutes later they were in_
Walter Wayne’s room smoking and waiting.

Although there seemed to be enough to talk about yet
hardly a word passed their lips as they sat there face to
face and watching the rings of cigar smoke as they rose

“from their lips.

At last there came a knock upon the door and the bell-
boy looked in and said:

‘‘Mr, Gentry down in the office to see Mr. Wayne.”

The boy thrust his head far enough into the room to
catch a glimpse of Gentleman Joe. And the bell-boy

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

looked more astounded than the clerk had done.

“T’ll come right down and see him there,’’ said Walter
Wayne. ‘‘But wait a minute, boy. You needn’t go down
and tell him—we would rather that he wouldn’t know we
are coming. There’s no party as pleasant as a surprise-
party, you know.”

Gentleman Joe was already upon his feet and with his
companion was descending the stairs, two atatime. The
elevator being in use they did not wait for it.

“‘Go ahead and see me,’’. said Gentleman Joe, as they
both reached the office at the same time.

Walter Wayne opened the door and the next minute
found himself face to face with a man who was the mir-
rored reflection of the Gilt-Edged Sport—the man whom
he had just left on the other side of the door.

“Tam here this time,’’ said Walter Wayne. ‘Your pre-
diction that I wouldn’t leave the city on the train that I
intended to take has proved true. You see, the cashier
was cranky and wouldn’t cash my check.’’

The man before him who looked so much like Gentle-
man Joe that Walter Wayne could hardly believe that it
was not indeed Gentleman Joe, smiled faintly and replied,
in a voice which was as much like Joseph Gentry’s as
Joseph Gentry’s own.

‘*You see I made quite a blunder when I gave you that
check,’’ said this ‘‘counterfeit presentment.’’ ‘I drew it
on the wrong bank—I had drawn out all my deposit in
that bank and should have given you a different check.
When I found out my blunder I came here to remedy it,
but Iwas too late, and that is why 1 told the clerk that [
didn’t think that you would go out of town on that train.
I knew that the cashier wouldn’t pay the money out on
that check unless he was a fool, and I knew he wasn’t a

aorta OTe nT eer ot empleo er

 

 

 

See trek h) bn

 

 
  

8 SR et

 

 

 

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
   

fool. He knows me too well to think that I would over.
draw my account to that extent.”’

Here was audacity surely.

Gentleman Joe’s double was not content with looking
like him, speaking in his voice, but he was actually trying
to play himself off as the genuine Joseph Gentry in one of

- the most audacious and consistent games that ever could —

have been conceived of. :

Walter Wayne was so amazed and puzzled that he could
hardly find words for reply.

The necessity for doing so was spared him, for at that
moment he saw. startling change come over the one
sion of the man before him.

At that instant the real Gentleman Joe sprang into the

‘room and bounded toward his double with a revolver in
his hand.

CHAPTER III.
THE BEGINNING OF THE DUET.

The genuine Gentleman Joe had lost no time in showing

his own hand in the game.
- His double, as we might as well call the mysteriond
stranger who was acting such a bold part, had been as |
prompt in his action as the real Joseph Gentry had been
in his.

A swift bacieward spring brought him to the street
door. Simultaneously the hotel clerk had come round
from behind his desk, and instantly comprehending that
something was wrong, had made an attempt to detain the —
stranger.

Had he kept out of the way the double would sure! z
have been caught. Asit was, his interference gave the
man just the chance to get out into the street that he
needed. 3

The clerk’s person came between the ‘real Gentleman
Joe and his counterfeit just in season to make it hazardous
for the former to use his weapon.

The pretending Gentleman Joe had likewise drawn &
pistol and at the door he paused for a single instant and
covered the hotel clerk with it.

“If you want to keep your eyesight, young man, you
likewise want to keep your distance.’’

‘The clerk recoiled as if he had been threatened by a
boa-constrictor.

In his anxiety to escape from the counterfeit Gentleman
Joe he blundered squarely against the real, completely
upsetting him in his efforts to dotain the former. :

The stranger at the same time swung open the door,
sprang out into the street, and darted along the sidewalk
at a swift, light pace which showed him to be a practiced
pedestrian. q

He had only a brief start in the race, for Gentleman Joe
succeeded in flinging off the hotel clerk and reaching the
door close behind the fugitive.

The sidewalk was full of people. There was no more
busy time in the whole day on that street than the present
minute.

The city of Denver is not a mining camp and for one to
pursue another revolver in hand will create as much of a
sensation there as the same spectacle would do in the
streets of New York.

Gentleman Joe recognized this fact and had thrust his
weapon out of sight. But he did not stand upon a matter
ef dignity when it came to running.

 
76 ty
hats

Joma:
doa

 

i

 

 

  
 
 
 
    
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

With a swiftness, grace, and agility which it would have
been a pleasure to observe the Gilt-Edged Sport glided
along the crowded sidewalks, managing to avoid collisions
with other pedestrians and at the same time keeping up a
swift pace with astonishing success.

His double was only a little more than a dozen yards in
front of him. At the start the stranger had gained, but
after a minute the two had kept an evenly matched pace.

Instantly a shout was raised me acrowd began to col- |
lect. ° :

The face of Joseph Gentry was known to many on the —
street. The one who was in the lead in the race would be
mistaken for the real Joseph Genrty therefore no one.
would offer to interfere with his flight.

On the contrary, they made way for him as they would
have done had it been the mayor of the city who was thus
racing along the principal business street.

When these same people saw the real Gentleman Joe
racing along in pursuit, they were too much amazed and
bewildered to attempt to offer any resistance or to give
any assistance had hop asked it of them.

The policemen, of whom three or four were within ob-

serving distance of the mad race, acted as did the other

pedestrians on the street.

- Had it been a stranger whom they had seen thus run-
ning along the crowded thoroughfare, they would have
interfered.

But Joseph Gentry, President of the Silver Gulch Mining

Company, had a perfect right to walk or run as he chose,

and there was not an officer in the city who would have
taken the responsibility of interfering.
‘‘Can’t you stop that fellow, Jackson?” Gentleman Joo —

demanded, as he flashed past a policeman, whom he knew,

on a street corner. : eee aoe

 

  
 
The officer stared, started to run in pursuit, and then
stopped and stared again. It was so with the next who
was asked to stop the fugitive.

The pursuer speedily realized that he could not obtain
assistance—indeed, that there was not an Officer in the
city who could be persuaded to arrest this counterfeit of
himself. :

Thero was likely to be a comedy of errors, and the real
Gentleman Joe was likely to suffer quite as severely as _
the spurious Gentleman Joe.

The Gilt-Edged Sport was making good time in his pur-.
suit, however, and he soon saw that he was gaining a
little. :
At that juncture the stranger abruptly turned a corner.

and for an instant was lost to Gentleman Joe’s sight.
- Only for a minute, however

Having reached the street corner, the real Joseph Gen-
try once more caught sight of the fugitive as he was
springing up the steps of a brick house.

The house was one of several in a block which were
exactly alike. There was nothing to distinguish them
from each other except the numbers on the doors.

Inamoment Gentleman Joe had reached the door in
question through which the fugitive had fled. He found —
it locked, and he pressed the button of an electric bell
with such vehemence that the chatter of the gong inside
was brought to his ears. 4

It was evident that the fugitive must either have pos-—
sessed a key to the door or some one had been waiting to
let him in, else he could not have gained the interior of
the building so quickly.

Whichever might be the true explanation there was no

 

 
B

one who seemed to be at all anxious to admit the real

 

hen Gentleman Joe. There was a delay of a full minute—a
rho period which seemed vexatiously long to the waiter under
such conditions.

ain| . Lhen the door was slowly opened, and a Chinaman

the grinned into the face of the Gilt-Edged Sport.

bt ‘Did you see a man who looks exactly like me come
| _ into this house a minute ago?’’ was Gentleman Joe's de-

raj Ss maand.

ya ‘“Yas—me see him.”’

‘‘Then show me where he went.’

Du 4 ‘‘Yas, meshow. Yight dis lay.’’.

nga -The Chinaman, with the greatest appearance of willing-
ness stepped back for Gentleman Joe to enter and pointed
mg $0. a carpeted staircase within. .
‘‘How many flights?’’ Gentry demanded, as he put one
foot on the lower stair.
a “One flight. Yight-hand door.. Me see him go in dar.”’
was This direction, like all the others, had been given with
- the utmost apparent willingness and frankness.
in iH Gentry could not doubt that the Chinaman was acting
at | in perfect good faith, and without a moment’s hesitation
_ hesprang up the stairs and turned the knob of the first
4 door to the right at the top.
i The door yielded to his touch, and he found himself in a
4 comfortably furnished sitting-room where two women,

one quite young and the other middle- aged, were talking
_ together in an evidently excited manner.

Both women were handsome, and it was evident that
Yt the younger was the daughter of the elder.

“Tadies, I trust that you will pardon me, ” were the
. ¢ first words of Gentleman Joe, as he stood hat in hand just

within the room,

 

   
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   

 
 
  

 

   

‘Why, that is what you said before,’’ replied the elder
lady. ‘‘I thought that you went the other way. How did
you get back there again?’’ 2

These involuntary words explained to Gentleman Joo
just what he wished to know.

His double had entered the room as he had done, asked
the ladies’ pardon in the same words as he had used, and
had passed through the room. And naturally enough they _
thought that he was the same one speaking to them again. —

“‘T haven’t time to explain matters now, madame. The
one who came through here before is another who closely
resembles me. To make himself more closely like me he
has dressed as I do and imitates my voice and movements.
Iam Joseph Gentry, quite well known as a citizen of Den-
ver—the other I know nothing about except that he is
playing a very clever scheme at my expense. Will you tell _
me which way he went and if he made any explanations???

*‘He didn’t explain. He only asked if he might pass
through this room—he was in an awful hurry to get some-
Where, I don’t know why. He was so polite and yet so
urgent that I couldn’t refuse, and I don’t know as it would
have done any good if I had done so.”’

The voice of the woman was tremulous with excitement, _
and Gentleman Joe could see that the face of the younger _
woman was becoming almost deathly pale. :

“Be kind enough, ladies, to give me your names, while ;
I pursue this man who has led me such a chase.”’

“Tam Mrs. Armstrong; this is my daughter Ada. We
haven’t lived in this house long—indeed, we have just
come to the city. I hope that such events as this do not
happen often in Denver?’’ |

“Tassure you that they do not occur very often anys ‘

 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
 

 

 

 
   
   
 

 

 

 

where, and you will probably never encounter such anex | [jf

  

 
   
       
   
   
         
   
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
   
 
    

  

perience again. Now if you will excuse me, ladies, [ will
try to follow up this double of mine before he does any
more mischief.”’

“Certainly, sir, and we shall wish to know how you
succeed.’” _

‘You can tell me which way the fugitive is likely to
have gone after leaving this room?”’

“‘T cannot tell you, sir. There is another door opening
into the adjoining tenement and a flight of stairs leading
down. The door should have been closed up—it was left
open in case of fire and accident, I suppose—and we found
it without a lock. We put a bolt on this side, so he could
have opened it.”’

Gentleman Joe waited to hear no more. He passed
through the room where the ladies were sitting, into an

-entry-way, then into a room where the furniture had evi-
dently not been arranged, and from that into a passage. -
‘way which led to the kitchen.
There he saw the Chinaman who had admitted him.

The man was busy over a cooking-range, and he grinned
his recognition as Gentleman Joe appeared.

“Did the other one go thzeneh this way Gentry asked.
‘*Vas, he go t’rough dis lay.”’
| ‘Down stairs?”
| No, 'There’s a passage-way out there. That’s the way
he went. There’sa door at the end and another which
opens into the other tenement. Me show you.”
be With the same willingness the servant led the way out
: of the kitchen and pointed to a door which communicated

 

 

§ _hetween the tenements.
He must have gone that lay. Door unbolted—that

shows which lay he went.”’
This was enough. :

 

 

 

 
Gentleman Joe darted through the door-way and found
himself in a narrow passage similar to the one which he
had just left.

Opening the first door, he entered another kitchen, the
exact duplicate of the one which he had already visited.

There was no one in the room, but when he passed
through a door on the opposite side he nearly collided
with a heavy, dark-faced man who recoiled and exclaimed,
in a harsh voice:

‘“‘T thought I had got rid of you once! Get out of here,
and that lively, or I'll hammer you black and blue!’’

“Just hear a word from me first—don’t begin the ham-
mering too quick for you might wish you hadn’t, you —
know.”’ =

Gentleman Joe drew back as he spoke, and these words
were uttered with a perfect calmness of tone.

“T don’t wait this time and I don’t want any explana

 

 

tions. You get out of here lively—get out, get out!’’ ;
As the man spuke he sprang upon Gentleman Joe with
the fury of a tiger.

 

CHAPTER IV.
WHICH BRINGS IN SANDY.

In another room of the very tenement which Gentleman
Joe had entered last, at a period a few minutes before his |
encounter with the irascible man who was in sucha hurry |
to eject him, another scene occurred which is of unique
interest and importance to the incidents of our story.

The room was a comfortable sleeping-room with an open
grate fire, a mantle bed and other appurtenances of =
modern city lodgings of a medium grade.

A man was standing before the mirror, shaving. His. i

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

florid face was completely lathered, and his twinkling
eyes were surveying himself as he ‘‘strapped’’ his razor.

A moment later he began to scrape his cheek and at the
same time the door opened and a man entered the room.

The one who was shaving saw the intruder in the glass,
and without turning round he lowered his razor and ex-
claimed, in a voice with a slight brogue which bespoke his
nationality:

‘‘Well, Gintleman Joe, it is by luck that ye have found
me. wes

The ee as some of the readers of our former narra-
tives may observe, was no other an the Irish lawyer
known as Sandy.

Many a lively adventure had Sandy had in company
with Gentleman Joe in the wild mining camps of the
mountains.

He had not been in Denver long, and it had not been his

luck to meet his friend since his arrival.

Therefore he now put down his razor, turned about, and
extended his hand while his lathered face seemed to be
divided fairly across by the breadth of his smile.

“Why don’t ye chuck out your fist. Ye needn’t think
that the color of me cheeks is due to any particular sick-
ness or thatI’m frothing at me mouth, With all me
troubles in the world I have been spared that of having
hydrophobia so far.”’

The one who had entered the room, and who, of course,
was not the real Gentleman Joe, reached out his hand in
response to the other’s invitation, and the hands clasped
in a most cordial manner.

“Tt’s a surprise to me to see you here,’’ said the
stranger. ‘‘But it’s a pleasure just the same.”’

“T am glad ye say so, Gintleman Joe, for I should never

 
know it if ye didn’t say it. Your face looks as blank as a z i
piece of white paper and—look here, will ye!’’ aS

‘Sandy bent forward suddenly, and his keen eyes swept | él

over the face of the man before him with a sharpness of 2
look that made the other recoil. s
‘Ye spalpeen! Ye an’t Gentleman Joe at all and ye. |
would play it on me, would ye? Ye would play yoursilf
off as Joseph Gentry, the whitest man in Colorado. No
man would do that who was not black himself. Get out of
here, will ye—move lively, or by the powers of mud I'll
pitch ye out, stomach over elbows.’’
The red of Sandy’s cheek was visible through the thick | q
layer of lather, so furious was he at that moment. :
Half fcoladarity he seized the razor which he had _
thrown upon the dressing-table and rushed toward the |
intruder as if with a full determination to make use of the -
uniques weapon. :
The intruder sprang back in time to avoid the onslaught |
of Sandy. ‘
Yet he showed not the slightest trace of fear and at the

 

 

same instant a revolver appeared in his hand and the | :
muzzle of it was threatening Sandy in a manner which |

was an excellent imitation of the real Gentleman Joe. S
“Put down your razor, man, or I’ll make it whittle
lead!’ -
Sandy was not in the least frightened; neither was
Sandy a fool.
If this man was anything like the real Gentleman Joe h
knew that he would not hesitate to carry out his threat. _ €
Therefore he recoiled and laid his razor back upon the (|
table. :
At the same time the stranger stepped back and turned |

 

 

 
egg}

nd
one
0
ot |
ud 1

aeRO NATE M

 

ar Ml

7

pony

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

   

the key in the lock of the door by which he had just
entered.

‘““Now go easy, you son of Erin, and don’t make too
much noise with that big mouth of yours. Because I hap-
pen to look like a friend of yours doesn’t make it that I’m

to blame for it. You took me for him yourself and were

bound to shake hands with me, and I reckon that it won’t
be my fault that you were fooled.’’
‘‘Maybe you’re right,’’ Sandy replied. ‘‘But when I

came to look into your face and study it close I saw a sort

of cussedness in it that never showed in the countenance
of Joseph Gertry. If ye didn’t mean to fool me and if ye
are playing an honest game then why in the divil don’t
ye tell me who ye are, what ye’re here for, and where ye
are at ginerally.”’

‘‘Just.give me a bit of time and maybe I’ll do it,’’ was
the quiet reply.

‘“*T’ll give you a reasonable length of time. As ye see, I
am just making me toilet, and I don’t like to let the
lather dry on me face. If we aren’t going to foight it
might be as well for me to S0 on with me shaving while
ae are doing your chinning.”’

- As he spoke Sandy coolly turned to the glass, wiped:
away atthe lather on his face a few times, and then ap-
plied the steel to it as coolly as if no interruption had oc-
curred.

‘“Vou seem to bea level-headed sort of a customer if you

were a trifle sharp with me at first,’’ said the spurious

Gentleman Joe. ‘‘SoI’m inclined to be fair with you. I
am not going to tell you what sort of a scheme I’m work-

3 ing out, but I will tell you that Iam called Silver Steele
and I am an all-around sport. Itis luck that fetches me
-here to Denver at this time and when I strike luck of any

| se .

  
  
 

  
   

kind I generally try to make it turn to my favor. That's
more when you have known me better and longer.’’.

‘IT know enough about ye,”’
went scrape, scrape upon his jowl.
not found it worth while to bid very high for favor since
it. I find myself my own best friend.”’
Sandy’s comment.
seem to be in a hurry to have me go I will not detain you
so I can have it to remember you by——”’

razor kept on scraping.
**And the rest of it?’’

what I have given ye—except, as ye may imagine that
Sandy is short for Alexander, and ye must ea that

part of it out to suit yourself.’’

‘“My age is suet thirty-eight, if that is what ye are
after.’’

long you had known the real Joseph Gentry.”’
Same as your own.”’ ee

then Ill move on.”’

 

all you need to know about me. You are likely to know |
said Sandy, while the razor 3

“That’s allright. It isn’t your favor that I am bidding |
for or any other man’s just at the present minute. I have |

the best is apt to go back upon you when you most need |
“Your own worst enemy, too, I’m thinking,’’ was
‘“‘T haven’t made it out that way yet. But since you p
any longer than necessary. ‘Will you give me your name | ‘

‘‘My name is Sandy,’’ was the quick retort, while the U

“The rest of it isn’t here. Ye’ll have to be content with |

‘‘And you are quite an old friend of Gentleman Joe's?” | |

at wha what I was after. I wanted to know how Lk
“About the whole length of him, which is about the
“Seriously, I want you to answer a question or two and 4 é

“Answering questions isn’t in my province. I am

 
    
   
  
  
   
  
 
  
   
   
 
  
  
   
 
 
  
 

SOLS ay? .
as ORR ie ee REE

ae

 

 
better at asking them, but I don’t care todo that just at.
present. So ye might as well be moving along, for ye
won’t get anything out of me that will do you any good,
and if ye get me really mad ye’ll find that [am worse
than a Tartar.”’
“Was it at Silver Gulch that you got acquainted with
Gentleman Joe?”’ -

‘“‘That sounds a good deal like a question and to put it

flat and straight without any trimmings, I’ll say that it

 

_ isn’t any of your business.”’
: : ‘‘Let me suggest to you, Sandy, in wild-west parlance,
Lt that I hold the drop. Under such conditions I am accus-
 tomed to having my questions answered.”’

The real Gentleman Joe could not have uttered this re-
- mark with any more coolness and defiance than did this
double of his.

Indeed, Sandy could scarcely convince his own senses
_ thatit was not the real Gentleman Joe who was saying

_ these things and whose reflection he could see in the glass

 

as he stood there coolly shaving.
Sandy was scraping the razor over the ridge of his chin
at that moment, and as that is the most critical point in

_ the tonsorial operation, it was not convenient for him to

 

_ speak at the moment.

The stranger watched and waited and there was just
the faintest hint of a smile upon his handsome lips and
face. He stood in a careless attitude, his revolver still in
his right hand and menacing the Irish lawyer.

Sandy got over the critical part of the operation upon
his chin, and he faced about, his twinkling, penetrating
eyes fixed full upon the face of the intruder.

_ Now that the former had scraped the lather off his face,
it was like a peony.

 
  

  

Indeed, in face and eyes Sandy showed that his temper
was fully stirred up.
‘*What was it that you were saying?’’ he demanded.
“I merely suggested that I held the drop,’’? was the: f
quiet retort.
**And what of that?”’ t
‘I mentioned it as an inducement for you to answer the :
questions. ’’
**And where does the inducement come in?’’
“I thought that you might prefer shooting words over. fr
my shooting lead.’’ | al
“Ye are talking riddles, man. Do ye want me to under-|
stand that ye are trying to frighten me into answerin
your questions?”’ :
“If you like the word any better, that is what I meant
to imply.”’
“Oh, it is, is it? Well, then, go on with your threaten.
ing. If ye have any more guns about ye pull them out in P°
sight. And let me say that the next time ye come tc ]
frighten me ye want to bring along the heaviest artiller giv
that ye have got, forI have looked into the muzzle o me
more of those little snap-guns than ye could count in’ ia
week, and me hair is still red—not a gray one to be
found.” - + the
The eyes of the counterfeit Gentleman Joo caught ¢ ing
gleam of sudden fierceness, and the look seemed to spreaq |, *
over his entire face, changing his expression. ft 7
In that moment he did not resemble Gentleman Joe af Jen
all, nor did he resemble the man who had come into the acti
room a moment before. | fom
His was one of those faces which may be entirely trans: ing
formed by passion or emotion.

mee
A moment before he had worn the look of a handsome, strr:

 

6

 

 

  

 
ver

is0

 

 

hrea
m0

com
artil
wall
yan
e |

caulg:

0 a iC

0
into

ly fi

ands|' ¢

 

 

a :
sett

Imé

   

middle-aged sport, cool and courageous. Now that vicious-
_ ness transformed his features, he looked to be a fiend in-
- carnate.

. The hand which held the weapon tightened and it was
ised on a level with the face of Sandy, the lawyer.
_ “J’ll make you eat those words, you red-headed bog-
' trotter. You'll talk and answer the questions I ask or I’ll

; drive one bullet after another into your body.”’

_ The tones in which these words were uttered were so
| full of concentrated fierceness that even Sandy recoiled
_ and some of the ruby hue forsook his cheeks. .

CHAPTER V. _
THE CHASE BEGING.

‘The man who had thrown himself so impetuously upon
Gentleman Joe would have weighed fully two hundred
_ pounds, and his muscular development was on a par with
' his weight. ©
| He undoubtedly felt perfectly certain of being able to
give this audacious intruder a lesson which he would re-
- member—a lesson that would teach him better than to
persist in going into other people’s rooms when he had
' been ordered to get out.
| Gentleman Joe had. not the slightest thought but that
' the man had a perfectly legitimate purpose in thus attack-
. ing him.
Any man has a right to defend his own premises and
( this man undoubtedly intended to only exercise this right.
| Every man hasaright todefend himself against vio-
i lence,and it was upon this liberty which Gentleman Joe
é ected at that moment when the stranger attacked him so
_ furiously.

_ Without stirring from his tracks—without hardly seem-
3 ing to assume a defensive position—the Gilt-Edged Sport
1 met his oncoming assailant with a well- directed blow
1% straight from the shoulder.

And the stranger fell back and dropped upon the floor

 

4
|

oy

|

  
with a shock that caused the house to shake. 2
‘‘T hated to do it, my friend, but you would have it
Now, I'll bid you good-day.’’ ak
With these words Gentleman Joe turned his back upo
his assailant who at that moment had struggled toa sit

ting posture and was rubbing his forehead in a clumg
effort to collect his scattered senses. a
Out of the room, Gentleman Joe descended another
staircase, only to find that there were no further means of
exploring the premises in that direction. =

 

He retraced his steps, and in an upper corridor opened} ©
the first door that came to hand. =.
There he found himself in the presence of a young manf

with a smooth face and deep-set eyes, who stood at
mirror making gestures in a manner which it would have!
been curious to observe had Gentleman Joe felt any curi-} @
osity upon any point except the one he was pursuing. Ff

The young man did not notice the entrance of the in
truder at first.

He continued to flourish his arms and a moment afte
began to speak in sonorous tones, delivering what seemed
to be an oration with appropriate gestures which he was
observing in the glass. a3

Gentleman Joe waited a-moment observing his move-
ments and listening to his words. :

Then he spoke.

**Pardon me, sir!’? a

The young man wheeled suddenly with a startled ejacte
lation. ‘

‘“Well, who are you?’’

‘Tam Joseph Gentry, of Denver.” og

‘*You are, are you? What is your business? Are yo
thieving or begging?”’ =

‘Do I look as if I was doing either?” =

The young man surveyed the intruder critically, an
with a shrug of his shoulders, replied:

“TI can

doesn’t like to be interrupted in this way, and this is th law!
second time that you have done this thing.”’ = doxci

 
  

 
  
 

 

  

  
   
   
  
  

 

 

 
   
 

 

 

   

_ Once more Gentleman Joe found himself confronted by
the embarrassing necessity of giving an explanation,

‘|| which after all might not be credited, before he could
make any further progress in his curious quest.

The young man listened to Gentleman Joe’s apology and

E to the frank and simply worded explanation which he
He gave him.

At the conclusion the other approached our hero and
_ surveyed him more critically, then he shrugged his shoul-
ders again and said: _

“Maybe you’re all right; I don’t know. And I don’t

know what sort of a game you could wish to play that

would require your making up such a story as this, solam
inclined to credit you. To tell the truth, I have heard of
_ Joseph Gentry, and I don’t know but I have met him on
the street, though I don’t remember. You wish to know
‘which way the other one went—the one who looks so
- much like you and whom you say is being mistaken for
yo Ote

“That's what I wish to know.’’

‘Well, I can show you pretty straight, andI am going to

1| doit. Just come this way and go easy, for if he is still -

_ there I suppose you would rather he didn’t hear you until
you had got your eyes on him.’
“T would rather take him by surprise, that’s a fact.

- Lead the way.’

~ The young man opened the door softly, ascended an-

‘|| other flight of stairs, and knocked upon another door
_ gently.

There was no response.
“That’s queer,’’ said the young man. ‘‘He was there

not ten minutes ago, and I haven’ t heard him come out. I
think I'll try the door.”’

“Wait a minute,’’ said Gentleman Joe. ‘Are you speak-
ing of the man who resembles me or of somebody else?”’
“Iwas speaking of a lodger who has recently taken

rooms here—an Irishman with a rather jolly face anda .
lawyer by trade, if I may take his word for it, which I
don’t feel bound todo. But he has paid in advance, sol
- dun’t ask any questions.”’ :

  
   

 
 
 
 

   

 

‘‘And the name of this lawyer?’ Gentleman Joe ques. :
tioned, with sudden eagerness.
““That’s the queer part of it—he didn't want to give any
name besides Sandy.”’

“Sandy, eh? Well, I reckon that I know Sandy a good}
deal better than you do and a good deal better than you
ever. will. If that door isn’t locked, my friend, I reckon|
~ we'll walk through and find whether Sandy is there or not}
without waiting for him to answer our knock.’’ ee

The other tried the door, and to his surprise found it)
unlocked. oe

The next moment they were within the room, and a
hurried glance showed that the tenant had left it in¢
rather hasty manner. _ | th

One chair laid upon its back in a dilapidated condition,|
while Sandy’s razor and other shaving utensils lay on the ot
dressing case where he had hastily dropped them. Ee th

There were signs either of a struggle or of a hurried! al
attempt to get in oroutof the room. The door onthe; —
opposite side was open wide. t he

‘**Did the man I am after come into this room?” Gentle-| th
man Joe demanded, with his hand emphatically gripping
the arm of his companion. de

‘Yes, he came into this room, and it is pretty evident! le;
that he went out the other way in something of a hurry.”) of

“It is pretty evident that Sandy knew the spurious from
the genuine and that there was trouble. Which way would
they be likely to go after passing through that door? ‘Tell
me quick or show me the way. I don’t care a whistle’
which if you only do it quick.” t.ca

‘‘There’s only a narrow passage out there anda traph,
door that opens upon the roof. The space there is used as’ eg
a closet and there is no window init. If that fellow went st:
out that way, then he has gone up to the roof, there can ha

-be no mistake about that.’’ { he

Gentleman Joe did not wait to hear the last part of this’ th

remark. ~ ie

A bound carried him into the closet-like space, andai dr
glance showed him that the scuttle which opened upon; .
the roof was open. ! ea Wi

tte tenet ar Eh TES wc bh

  
   
  
   
 

   
 
  

 

  
hes. ; Gentleman Joe sprang up the steps, and in another
|} minute was upon the flat roof of the tenement-block.
| ny _ He ran swittly along it, noticing as he went that there
|“ were fresh impressions in the gravel on the roof.
|. Practiced as he was in the following of trails, even this
pod, faint trace was intelligible to him.
yo" —_- It led him to the end of the block, and there it ended.
ae He glanced downward and saw a window directly
fot underneath, and under the window the landing of a fire-
. escape.
it Without a minute’s hesitation Gentleman Joe let himself
_ down over the edge of the roof and dropped to the platform
f— @ underneath.
n= Here he paused to examine the surface under him and
| the narrow steps of the fire-escape.
pn, As it was unlikely that this had been used lately for any
fhe other purpose there would be sure to be some dust upon
_ them. Therefore every foot-print would show with reason-
fed able plainness.
fhe _— A first glance showed him that the one he was pursuing
' had landed on this same platform and had not descended —
ifle- the steps.
ng A glance in the other direction showed him that a win-
- dow had been opened and not quite closed owing, doubt-
int less, to the haste of the one who had entered by means
2 of it. .
To shove up this window and spring into the room was
but the work of an instant, and Gentleman Joe did it
without hesitation. :
) Yet, even as he did so, he heard a sound outside tha
caused him to thrust his head out through the opening.
What he saw below on the next. landing of the fire-
escape was the man he was pursuing—the mysterious
stranger who so resembled the Gilt-Edged Sport. The man
had just sprung out of a window, closed it, and as our
hero thrust his head out, the other looked upward, and
Wis their gaze met. eee
4 Owing to his position Gentleman Joe was unable to
a draw his revolver. se
q Indeed, it was easier for him to spring out through the
- window, and it was this which he did regardless of the

 

 

 

 

   

    
   

exposure of his own body to the enemy. r.
The latter certainly had a good chance to draw a weapon | hb
and use it at that moment. h
He evidently realized that to have done so would have, :
brought his own capture and punishment since the city of|
Denver and the State of Colorado, for that matter, would dD
have been too hot to have held him. - s
With the real Gentleman Joe out of the way, there a
would be no chance to deceive Gentry’s casual acquaint. y
ances. Therefore his capture would be quick and sure. £
Whether or not he considered these things, it is certain’ -
that this man who called himself Silver Steele, after —
recognizing and observing the nearness of his pursuerj —
bent all his efforts toward making a quick descent of thd —
fire-escape to the ground below. r
Silver Steele had a manifest advantage in his flight.) —
Great speed in descending the fire-escape could not be! g
safely attained. od
A few swift bounds carried him down the flight which 2
_ brought him on a level with the second-story windows. [|
Gentleman Joe followed with equal speed and at the mo-|
ment that the fugitive touched the platform of the second —

 
   
  
   
 
  

 

 

~— story the real Joseph Gentry was barely one flight above : t

 

him. E
Gentleman Joe did not stop here, but descended the Pn
stairs and swung himself down the entire flight. se
As Gentry performed this feat his adversary disappeared, - r
through the window, which seemed magically to open for .
his benefit. s
The next instant a sharp report split the air, and Gentle}
man Joe pitched off the landing to the ground below.

   
  

CHAPTER VL - @
THE COUNTERFEIT COIN. :

The reader should understand from this moment that a
the young man who has been introduced as Walter Wayne?
has a most important part to play in this story. Indeed, th
Walter Wayne himself was the Hotspur from far

 

  
After the hasty departure of Gentleman Joe from the
hotel in pursuit of his double, Walter Wayne returned to
his own room and spent an hour in writing letters.

Now that he was alone and the excitement of his arrest
and encounter with the mysterious stranger had abated,

h @ he had time to think over the loss to which he had been

 

' subjected. He then felt that the banks, in thus readily

re accepting a forged signature of Gentleman Joe and like-
pt: wise being so readily deceived by the personal appearance
_ of the impostor, should be made responsible for the loss
| to him in refusing to accept a genuine check which he had
eY received from the hands of Joseph Gentry.

~The loss indeed was a great one.

. Walter Wayne was naturally a hot-tempered, impulsive
fellow, but he was as generous as he was hasty.

. There had been a valuable mining claim made by him-
| self and partner among the mountains of Colorado which

as he had himself given the rather suggestive name of Hard-
| pan.

_ His partner had met his death by an accident a few days
- before these events opened.

As Wayne held the claim in partnership with his friend
» the property had to be settled and that at once.
: There had been a chance for him to purchase his part-
g ner’sshare for the sum of eight thousand dollars if it

| could be done on or before a certain day.

Wayne had been unable to raise the money except by
' borrowing. In coming to Denver he had been recom-
mended to go to Joseph Gentry as the most likely person
to advance the money for that purpose.

He had met Gentry before—indeed, they had taken one
trip together through various mining regions—and the
- Gilt-Eged Sport had much confidence in the warm-hearted —

/ young man.

 

As soon as the matter was presented to Gentleman Joe

in detail he did not hesitate. to advance the money re-
; quired for the purchase of the other half of the claim.

12 .._— It. awas for this that the check for eight thousand dollars

4. had been given. But owing to delays this was the last day

- upon which the money could be obtained in season for the |

_ young man to reach Hard-pan before the expiration of the

 
;
f

.
:

time agreed upon for making the purchase upon thos! PS
terms. an

There could be no doubt then but that the whole nanl ge
saction had been forfeited. And now that the young max
thought the matter over again and saw the loss to which, 1.
he had been subjected he fell to pacing the room wit §
clinched hands, blazing eyes, and flushed cheeks.

“‘So much for that bit of foolery of the stranger who
happened to look like Gentleman Joe!’ the young ma
exclaimed, as he paused before the table upon which hi
hastily scrawled letters were lying.

5 NOW what. is the tine = me to do? J Eee had: sg

isn’t a ‘doubt but that “he will help me to what mney I F.
need. The trouble is that I don’t know that money will Be
do me any good. Probably the best thing for me to do gl
would be to go back to Hard-pan with all possible speed. Do
and present matters to the agent who has the settling up; :
of my partner’ s affairs and see what can be done on ‘the; &
spot. If all is lost then that’s the end of it. I still have my|-
half of the claim if I don’t have too much of a quarrel t
fight with the heirs of the other half.

“But what troubles me most is that young Armstrong
who was my partner, wanted me to be sure and get hold | |
of his half of the claim in case anything should happen to),
him. He had a mother anda sister who were to be some- ‘| *
where in Denver at about this time and whom he wished
me to know.

“But he also had a brother, and it was his brother
whom he had cause to fear and hate. He said I would
have to work fast and still to get possession of the claim }
before his brother put a finger in the pie.

‘““This brother of his whose name was Ferd, will under-
take to swing the whole business on his own account, and |
my partner intimated that I would find him a hard char-
acter to deal with.

‘‘He was due to arrive at Hard-pan by the day after to-.
morrow. IfI were to start to-morrow morning I should t
get there one day behind him unless there were something |
to detain him.

 

 
‘‘Perhaps the best thing I can do is to get my money
nd go on and fight my fight out on the ground. If I could
traneet there a single hour ahead of Ferd Armstrong my case
would be won. But before I go, since I have a little time,
wish that it might be my luck to find the mother and.
wjisister of my partner if they are now in the city.’’
‘| How to discover the whereabouts of Mrs. and Miss
»yfArmstrong in a city as large as Denver whén they were >
{crecent arrivals and in so short a time was a problem which —
i WwWalter Wayne set himself to work out. ae
| Within half an hour he was making inquiries at sevéral.
4p50f the hotels where arrivals of that description would be
wemost likely to go. :
- Atone he found what he sought. Two weeks ago Mrs.
_wtfFerdinand Armstrong and Miss Ada Armstrong had bee
1 peguests there for four days. |
| All that the clerk knew of their subsequent whereabouts
Inwas that they had secured a dwelling somewhere in the —
“fc city and that in doing so they had had dealings with cer- |
4d tain real estate agents whom the hotel clerk named. This
wif was the exact clew needed.
| The young man was not very well acquainted about the
k« city, and it was eight o’clock when he started out to find
if the new home of the Armstrongs.
‘|. Hereached the block of dwellings in which theirs was
Bertuated, but by mistake ascended the stairs of the first
instead of the third.
7f AS he was about to ring, something dropped from over-
“head, just clipping the top of his ear, and fell with a
_ peculiar ring on the step. :
The young man followed the object with his eye and
Ii saw it roll from one step to another toward the sidewalk
4; and then into the gutter.
- JInan instant he had plunged after it, only to see it dis-
appear through an iron grating into a culvert that passed
under the sidewalk. Bending down and peering through
the grating, he could see the object lying about three feet
below the surface.
A pull at the iron grating removad it, and in another
moment he had the object which he had pursued so
/ eagerly in his hand. |

£

a ee
CC gaaaiiead nena

‘

 

 

 
It was what appeared to be a gold eagle—bright, yellow,' an
and either freshly burnished or brand-new, for it had not! ye
even become dull from handling.

Walter Wayne held it in the palm of his hand staring at) |
it, then he poised it on the end of his finger as if he were gi:
weighing it—then he dropped it upon the sidewalk to hear! —
the ring of it. It was this last test which convinced him| —
of the truth. th

“The thing is counterfeit—I knew it when it first struc +
the step by the ring of it.” Ane

He picked it up and dropped it into his pocket. The
he looked along the front wall of the block as if for som
sign to show from whence the coin had fallen.

“The thing is brand-new!’ the young man exclaimed) —
as he once more ascended the steps. © ar

‘It is counterfeit, freshly made, and I wonder if the ond
who dropped it doesn’t know something about the makin
of it as well? Here would be a point worth the while
the detectives if they only had the clew, but if the Arm. ar
strongs live here I don’t reckon that I want to give the
the clew—not that I think that they know anything about! of
the counterfeit coin, but it might mix them up in th
_mess.’

The young man rang for admittance. Nae

He had to wait some time before there was any re4 ©
sponse. At last the door was opened by a short, dark magi of
/ who eyed Walter Wayne with suspicious keenness. os

“Is this the house which has been hired by Mrs. Arm. W
strong?’’ Wayne asked. ‘| to
“No, this isn’t the house,’’ was the gruff response. -  |_
“The lady has hired a tenement or house somewhere in| be
this block. Would you be kind enough to tell me — ar
one???

“IT might be kind enough if I knew, but I don’t. —
reckon if you punch all the bells in the block you'll find!
the right one if there’s such a woman here at all.”’ i 80

Walter Wayne saw the man step back and make as if t¢ 7
close the door.

His actions excited the suspicions of the roe man:

   
     
wv, and a sudden impulse to make further investieations im-
i pelled him to say:
“Wait a minute, please, sir,’
» The door was opened a oe and the fierce- ee man

glared out at the visitor.
- **Well what is it?”’
( ‘I found a piece of money on the atone just now—I
_ thought it might be yours?”’
Walter Wayne very carelessly drew from his pocket the
new coin, and he spoke in such an indifferent tone that
nm the man had no reason to think that he was suspicious.
_ The man took the coin somewhat gingerly and said,
| without looking at it:
| ‘Yes, it’s mine. Ilaid it on the window-sill up stairs
and it got knocked out. Iwas just coming down to look
for it. Much obliged.”’

‘“‘Then you don’t pay any reward for finding it?’’

Walter Wayne raised his eyes to the face of the man
m. and met his gaze sharply. :
em  ‘‘I don’t pay any reward except to say that I’m much
7 ut obliged. If you wanted the coin what made you say any-
ithe thing about it? Ihaven’t time to talk with you anyway

_—go along and find your-Armstrongs.”’
If Walter Wayne had not been a hotspur he would have
hire. trey complied with the request and taken a more cautious way

 

 

of winning the game.
But instead of acting upon a more prudent plan, Walter
. Wayne coolly thrust one foot betwixt the door and casings
1 to prevent its being closed in his face, saying, as he did so:
if = *‘ You may hand me back that coin if you can’t show me
din: better proof of ownership than you have done yet. There
ih are a good many gold eagles in the city of Denver, and
_ they don’t necessarily belong to the one who claims them.
, I said that I found it on the step here, but I did not say
| that I knew how it came there—but I do know, and I know
" something more about that coin, too—something which
| may make it pretty valuable to me.”’
_ The man within flashed out upon the speaker one of the
‘most malignant looks of which the human countenance is
| capable. ;

 
 

Wayne’s foot with all his strength.

It was painful for the Hotspur from Hard-pan—but pain |

only stirred up his determination and anger to a more
serious pitch.

Without considering the consequences, he thrust himself
into the narrow opening As he had a better leverage than
his opponent, he succeeded in overcoming the latter in his
struggle over the door. :

The door was thrown back, and the man inside, fierce}

and panting, released his hold and flung himself upon

 

At the same time he slammed the door against Walter \

 

Walter Wayne, clutching him fiercely.

 

CHAPTER VII.

A SURPRISE FOR THE GILT-EDGED SPORT. bE

The sound of that sharp report smote upon the ears 0
Gentleman Joe, and then there was the dim consciousness)

of a sting upon the temple and a falling motion.

After that there was no consciousness at all, and there}

must have been several hours of intervening blankness to
him.

small, three-cornered room.
Indeed, the room was shaped like a flat-iron with two.
high, iron-barred windows and two doors likewise barred
with iron. :
Gentleman Joe stared with strangely stupid indifference

around the odd-looking room upon which his eyes opened,
He remembered distinctly enough what had happened

to him last. ; 2
Yet, strangely, he did not feel any great shock of sur-

prise when he discovered the strangeness of his situation.)

 

When he recovered his senses he found himself in a!

 

It was to him as if he had anticipated some such out- ©

come in that brief space of consciousness after his head

had been struck by the bullet on the lower landing of the\

fire-escape.

He was lying upon a cot-bed, and a glance about the

  
   
 

   
  

Walter

1b fit

More

ims
© than
‘in tt)

fag}
ny

i

neering ecticieereoniennrmnritence.

 

 

absolutely needed. Both of these weapons were gone. The

 

 

room showed him that the only other furniture of it wasa

chair of the lightest and plainest pattern.

If there was anything at which he was really surprised
it was to find that his limbs were all at liberty.

He rose un, put his hand to his temple to see if there
were much of a wound there, and was again surprised to
find that the injury, slight though it was, had been care-
fully washed and strips of court-plaster applied.

‘‘Well, they’re kind, anyhow,’’ said Gentleman Joe,
with a smile.

He next got upon his feet, found them a little weak for
a moment and likewise had a ‘‘heady’’ feeling as if he had |
been dosed with liquor of some sort.

“Treckon they made me taste or smell of something
while I was temporarily stunned by the bullet. It is night
now, that’s clear, and it iacked a number of hours of it

| 4 when I dropped asleep so suddenly. I wasn’t hit hard

enough to keep my wits out of me for all that length of
time, so I must have been dosed with something else.
Now, I reckon they didn’t put me in here for nothing, and

_Ireckon they don’t mean to let me out till thescheme _
which they are working has fully worked. Perhaps Ican’t

get out, but Iam going to try just the same.’
With Gentleman Joe to think was to act. He spent not
a moment in listening or planning.
If there had been anything of importance for him to
hear he would have heard it, and there was no plan which

ingenuity could invent which was not brought to his brain
e ina flash, as it were, just as quickly as the objects in the
'. room were presented to his vision.

A small lamp sat upon a bracket against the wall. It

. afforded very little light, barely sufficient to enable one to
| move about the room without falling over the one or two
a objects which it contained.

An examination of his pockets showed Gentleman Joe
_ that he had been stripped of everything in the =e of a

_ weapon.

In the city of Denver it was his habit to carry a single
" revolver which he could draw handily in case of need.. He
also had a heavy clasp knife suitable for self-defense if

 

  
 

little money he had had in his pocket was still there, a
was likewise his cuff-buttons, watch, and a valuable dia’
mond pin which he wore in his scarf. a ee

“Very considerate of me,’’ smiled Gentleman J08, tra
‘‘After fleecing me through the banks they thought that] ‘
had been abused about enough in that direction. And this lib
proves that Iam not dealing with the low grade of crookg =
—those into whose hands I have fallen are strictly of the.
gilt-edged sort. Well, they may find me gilt-edged, too,”)

After thus surveying the room, Gentleman Joe seated ;,
himself on the edge of the bed and drew off the right boot

Groping in the bottom of it, he drew outa false sole
and after it a knife which was just the length of his foot) «7,
‘including the haft. a

“‘T don’t like to be caught entirely asleep when my eyes
are open,’’ he smiled, as he held the weapon carelessly in) .¢
his left hand. 4:

He dropped it into a pocket and then drew on the bo
and in a moment more had taken up the chair and tes
the weight of it in his hand.

‘“‘Not quite so heavy as I could wish; still I’ll try t -
make it do. I’m afraid I shall have to make short work of y
1 ee i

The next instant the article of furniture was whirled a4
aloft and brought with terrific force against one of thi
doors.

{twas no doubtful blow which the wood-work received)
Into it Gentleman Joe had thrown every ounce of hig
strength, for he knew that the chair would not servea y
second time for a battering-ram and what execution it —
would do must be done the first time. a

Although the door was crossed at several points by iron
bars or rods, this blow was so well directed that the whole
force of it was expended on one of the wooden panels—and, go
the wooden panel was broken into splinters. t Be

There was plenty of noise made, but Gentleman Joe did +
not wait to find whether there was any response from
another part of the building or not. {

The next moment he had hold of one of the iron bars} °
wrenching at it with all his strength—wrenching ané

 
Be }

_k straining until he saw it bend—and it bent more and more
1 until it broke.

‘The Gilt-Edged Sport was purple in the face under this
t tremendous exertion. Never had he strained -his finely

iti trained muscles to a higher pitch.

- Somehow he felt that what he was to do for his own
“| liberty must be done at once, He likewise felt that it was

i important for him to escape, for he knew that the strange
‘4s succession of adventures in which he had become involved
“ so rapidly had an importance which affected more than
“\| his own interests and welfare.

' The one who had been palming himself off as Joseph
"( Gentry, of Denver, would not content himself with simply
1c obtaining money under the name of the genuine Gentle-
‘ji man Joe.

- There could be no doubt that he would make the most

‘{i' in handwriting, speech, and airs to impose upon others.
“ Therefore Gentleman Joe was anxious not alone about
esi) himself and his own finances, but about certain others
( whom he felt might be made to suffer more than himself.

41 | Besides, everything pointed to. a deep-laid plot which
vorkgy was being played with consummate skill.

_|| This was why Gentleman Joe made such a desperate
hilt; attempt to get out of the room before anything could be
of tk done by his captors to prevent his escape.

With the breaking of one rod of iron, which as it
eve chanced was considerably rusted and weakened on that
of i; account, and the splintering of the door, Gentleman Joe
eva was practically at liberty.
tion In an instant he was cutting away at the wood-work

_|\ with his knife where it had been broken by that furious
y 10!) blow.
wh} Even then he heard the sound of footsteps along the,
—ail corridor outside.

: A moment afterward he beheld a gleam of light coming

e dil; toward the door, and the gleam revealed to him a form

fro; that caused him to cease his efforts and. to stare in speech-
| less wonderment.

a§| The one approaching was a woman. So much he saw

even at a distance.

 
 

.

Had it been a heavy or coarse-looking representative of
the other sex he would not have been surprised.
But such was not the case,

t
The one approaching was slender and graceful, and she!
walked with light footsteps and a carriage that showed |

her to be a person of refinement. ‘
That was not all. When she got near enough for the

light to fall upon her face Gentleman Joe recognized that! ;

face.

It was the young girl whom Gentleman Joe had seen int
one of the rooms which he had so hurriedly passed through!

in pursuit of his double—it was the one who had been in.
troduced to him as Ada Armstrong.

It was no wonder therefore that Gentleman Joe ceased
his attempts to get out of the room. Indeed, he almost.

felt as if he had been dreaming and that in thus smashing?

the door he had been abusing some one’s hospitality in-
stead of trying to escape from an enemy.

He deftly put the knife out of sight before the girl had)
time to observe it. At the same moment she was confront-|

ing him and staring at him in undisguised wonderment.

“Why, sir, what have you been doing?’’ she exclaimed, :
in a voice which was as full of genuine surprise as was!

her face.

For a moment if was hard for Gentleman Joe to reply. |
He felt as if he ought to make some sort of an excuse!
beside the true one. He felt that the girl would not com.)
prehend the situation—or, rather, perbaps, that he did)
not understand it himself, and that he had been doingal —
foolish instead of an audacious thing. . dit

But the next moment he realized that he had acted in
the most natural manner possible and therefore the wisest.
It made no difference what the real sitvation might
be since he had certainly appeared to be a prisoner, and
all the circumstances led him to fear injury to himself if
he did not make the most of his chance to escape.
‘Just having a little picnic by myself. If you had only
arrived a minute sooner you would have seen the way I

 

 

have of unlocking doors. ’’ ;
Gentleman Joe made this reply with a faint smile.

 
  

tig! The girl smiled also, although the puzzled and startled

| look did not leave her face.

| | ‘Did you break the door purposely?”’

nd} “Tt rather strikes me thatIdid. But it isn’t so very

hoy.1 surprising, is it, under the circumstances?”

: “It surprises me. [am sure that when I wish to go

= (>; through a door I just open it—I don’t go to work and kick

it all to pieces instead of turning the knob or raising the
latch.”’

1 The girl was almost laughing as she spoke.

' “Well, that’s your style, Miss Armstrong, and this is

een _ mine. Yours would make a door last longer, but mine

ik gives excellent exercise to my muscles and works off my

cen bad temper. But I suppose that such a pleasant-faced

i) young lady as you are doesn’t have any bad temper to

ashi t) work off.”

_ “Oh, yes, Ihave. And IJ’ll confess that I feel a little of

i) it coming on now. What will my mother say?”’

‘*T haven’t the slightest idea what your mother will say,

; and if it wasn’t impolite, I would say that I didn’t care.
. Now to be perfectly straight and square about it, Miss
rons, can’t you see that a gentleman doesn’t like to

‘ find himself locked into a room with iron bars across the.
« doors and windows? Not if he has been a decently honest
+ sort of a man, and hasn’t committed murder or any other
) horrible crime.’

“But you were not locked in.”’

; - **Wasn’t 1?”’

“‘Certainly you were not. I closed that door myself and I

didn’t lock it or think of doing such a thing. You had just

been brought in here by some men who found you outside
| insensible—they said they guessed you had been drinking

f too much.”’

These last words were spoken in a faltering manner,

f and the fair cheeks of the girl were suffused by a deep
_ blush.

‘‘They said they thought I had been drinking too much,

way did they? What sort of looking men brought me in?”’

* ‘One of the men wore a blue coat and brass buttons,
pi and [ took him to be a policeman. Still I don’t remember

 

    
  
  
  
  

 

 

 

 

 

  
seeing a badge. He said that you were outside on our |
step—it looked as if you had been trying to come in or ; ¢
ring the bell or something and had dropped down ing:
stupor. They thought if you belonged here that they é
wouldn’t have you taken to the police station.”

“Very considerate of them. Now, young lady, will you
look me in the eye ard tell me that this is a straight Sy
that you are telling me?”’ |

The girl met his gaze squarely, not because he told her x
to do so, but from an impulse of surprise. -

‘And looking at her as he did then, he was surprised by
the wonderful purity and innocence of her countenance. |

And yet he found if hard to credit the explanation,
which had been given.

‘“‘You say that two men found me in that manner on
your steps and that they brought me in and fetched me to.
this room?”’

“That’s every word true.’

‘How about this room ae so much like a prison- -cell
then?’’

“That’s something I know nothing about. It is th
basement room in the house which we have just hired,
and we found it in this condition, We don’t know whati
was used for—we found things just as they are, the co
bed, the lamp on the wall, the chair, and iron bars to win
dows and doors. We had an idea that there might hay
been an insane person in the house at some time and tha
this was used as a place of private confinement. That wai
simply guess-work with us, and we were not so very pa
ticular about the matter anyway.’

‘*And you thought that a room that was fit for a lunati
would answer pretty well fora man who was so drun
that he fell down upon your steps?”’
 “That’s what we thought. Besides, it was handier to @

fetch you down here than to carry you up stairs. Then}

 

_ The girl hesitated, gave Gentleman Joe a searchin
look, and added: ;
**And then at first we took you to be the other one.” {| y
This let upon the mind of Gentleman Joe a flood of light, |
He had been mistaken for the one who had first passe '

 
   

 

: through the rooms of the Armstrongs and whom he had

 

ati
TL n

igh

   

 

 

- eonvinced them was an impostor. .
Not being quite sure, it was no more than natural that
they should have been doubtful about having him placed

- in one of their furnished rooms.

 *T reckon I won’t find fault with you, Miss Armstrong,
since you mistook me for the salamander who has been

| masquerading as Joseph Gentry, of Denver, but whom

_ Joseph Gentry never saw until to-day. I don’t blame you
for putting me into a room with barred windows and
' doors. ButIshouldn’t think you would blame me for
_ taking forcible means to get out.”’

“But the door wasn’t locked,’’ said Ada Armstrong, a
- gmile dimpling her cheeks.

‘“‘Wasn’t locked, eh? Well, then you may have your

+ laugh. I confess that I didn’t try to open it—I took it for
granted that I was a prisoner and I also took the shortest

way of liberating myself. It looks as if what at the start
- geemed like a serious situation wasn’t much more than a
‘joke. It amounts just to this: They would have liked to
- have disposed of the real Joseph Gentry so he couldn’t
‘interfere with them any more, but they didn’t quite dare ©
- to do it, so they tried to throw dust in his eyes and yours.
This double of mine has rathera long head, and he is usin

 

q every one of the wits he has in it.”
t
t

. “Tt was certainly a shrewd trick,’’ said Ada Armstrong,
in her sweet voice.

‘Tam sorry to have demolished your door, .but it can be

-~ mended, and I will see that it is done. Now another word

him since?”’
‘‘T have seen nothing of him since he passed through
eur rooms when you were in pursuit of him.”’
“These two men who brought me in—can you describe

-— them?”

j mend this double of mine. Have you seen anything of —
|
hix 7

I “One of them was young, with a smooth face—at least |
he had the general appearance of being young. The other

{ was older with a very heavy mustache. He was the one

_ whom I mistook for a policeman, ”’
‘Were they short or tall?’’

 
   
     
 

‘‘They were both medium in height and quite muscular, give
They carried you as if you were not much of a burden,” |
‘Did they say anything more than you have told me?"| ty
“They said that if it was not convenient for us to look! Ge
out for you until you recovered they would see that you\ had
were taken to the police station if we wished.”’ ~ Trea
‘“‘Then you told them that I didn’t belong in this house?) A¢
‘We told them that. My mother had most of the con. fron
versation with them, but it was I who conducted them «
this room.”’ :
- “Tam much obliged to you, Miss Armstrong, and sorry 4
to have caused you so much annoyance. This affair seem
to be interfering with the peace of mind of quite a number
of different persons. My young friend, Walter Wayne
perhaps, has been obliged to suffer most from it so far,” |
_ These words were spoken half involuntarily, or, more
properly, half to himself. W
But chancing to look into the face of Ada Armstrong) w
Gentleman Joe saw that she showed signs of excitement,
The next moment she exclaimed:
**You spoke of Walter Wayne. And that he is a friend) 7},
ef yours? What do you know of him?”’

 
     
        
     
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
    
    
 
 
    
  

   

   
  

 

a cla

*‘Then the name is familiar to you?”’ So
‘“Yes. Hewas the partner and trusted friend of myland

brother.”’ Trish

This declaration brought to the mind of Gentleman Jol;
what Walter Wayne had told him. |

  
 
   

Not until this moment had he thought that these Arm «pf
strongs were in any way connected with the partner ¢ [Th
the young Hotspur from Hard-pan. “even

Indeed, Walter Wayne had hardly spoken the named “p

his partner and said next to nothing concerning the youniang ;
man’s relatives. ‘Igaid
Following this revelation there was a clearer undergince
standing between Gentleman Joe and Ada Armstrong. ead {
The Gilt-Edged Sport was conducted up stairs to théome
sitting-room, and a brief conference was held with the gj),
young girl’s mother. dmos
They knew nothing of the other tenants of the block  Th¢
near the middle of which their dwelling was situated. _jot g]
Having obtained all the information which they on

t

i

at

ik
{
 

 

Bt. give him, Gentleman Joe left the house, promising to see
them again in a short time.

(?"| The hour was a little past eight in the evening.

0K Gentleman Joe returned straight to the spot where he
OU had fallen off the platform of the fire-escape under that
| treacherous shot.

' As he glanced alertly about him and up at the platform

™~
aa

 

Si

   
  

 

n-frem which he had fallen and at the window through
te which the shot had been fired, he was sure that a faint
ery came to his ears—a faint but unmistakable cry for
ry help.

er
pe, CHAPIER VIII.
Are SANDY’S COUP.

| We have neglected Sandy too long.

#8, While Sandy, the Irish lawyer, was a good fighter,
Pt. especially with his fists, he was a notoriously poor marks-
man.

ifd Therefore in the city he seldom carried a weapon except

 

yf

Ne)

mM

40)!

in

(0

cr

1.

oH

cdild.

_a clasp knife.

_ Soas Silver Steele raised the revolver which he heid
IBY and advanced with a swift, menacing stride toward the
Irish lawyer, the latter realized that he was ina pinch

nee from which there was only one way of escape—that is if

A

‘the pretended Gentleman Joe meant business.

ifa-| ‘*Hands up, you sorrel-top!’’

ot This order shot from betwixt the lips of Silver Steele,
even as he advanced, and the weapon clicked ominously.
ct = ‘‘Divil a bit, me dandy! If ye want to shoot be about it
ng and no fooling. ‘Some of my cross-grained friends have
‘said before now that Sandy wasn’t born to be drowned
pr since his neck was shaped just right fora rope. So if it’s

 

MDE come out left-handed.”’

ne Silver Steele had halted, and the muzzle of his weapon
1 almost touched Sandy’s short nose.

"ek The Irishman had not drawn back asingle step—had
not shown the slightest sign of fear—his blue eyes looked.

| Jead that is going to put an end to me their prophecy will

e
'

 

.
keener er AION
P ;

 

 
squarely into the fierce ones of his enemy with no sign 0
flinching or fear. oe

‘‘Are you a fool, man?”’ Silver Steele demanded, throug
his shut teeth. :

‘‘Draw your own inferences. If ye think I look and act! |
like one then ye can call _me one, and it won’t make a bit
of difference. As I said before, if you want to shoot, |t#
shoot, and auit your blarneying.”’ |

Silver Steele did not shoot. :

He slowly lowered the hammer of his weapon and then:
slowly lowered the weapon itself, and with a deliberat
yet nimble movement turned the revolver in his hands
that he held it by the muzzle. a

The next instant the hand and the weapon swept in a:
arc through the air, and the butt of it fell with stunnin
force upon the Irishman’s head. is

Sandy dropped as quickly as if it had been lead instead
ef iron that struck him.

Silver Steele bent over his victim, while a faint smile
curved his handsome lips. =e

“Better to have one-man down than two,” he audibl
remarked. ‘‘So this fellow calls himself Sandy, the Iri
lawyer, and is a particular crony of Joseph Gentry, 0
Denver. <All of which is another point of information and
one that I can make good use of. Let mé see, I don’t think@oul
Sandy will wake up for a minute or two, and I’ll hay

time to look over his effects a little and possibly get hold
of something else that’s valuable.”’

Silver Steele coolly proceeded to open a small desk w
which the room was provided, and to hastily scan seve
packets of letters and papers which were suppose
directed to Sandy, since the first name of each was Al
ander.

The superscription on several of the letters caught
eye of the pilferer, and these he selected and slipped i
his pocket. h

_ There were also several papers which promised to be of
_ interest to him, and these he disposed of in the same
manner. : a

The papers and letters which he had selected bore theitho

handwriting ef Gentleman Joe. AL. of which went t bove

 
 

2 prove that Silver Steele intended to got hold of every
0 scrap of information which could give him any bearing on
the business or the affairs of Joseph Gentry.
The better informed and the more familiar he became
pi¢ With such matters, the better able he would be to play
of, the bold part which he had undertaken.
> Having finished his investigation, Silver Steele once
again looked at Sandy.
ni Somewhat to his consternation he found that the latter
ate Had risen toa sitting posture and was staring bewilderedly
| gq round the room.

- Without a word being spoken, Silver Steele strode out
‘an through the door-way into the closet-like passage and after
ing Quickly glancing about, bounded up the steps, opened the

‘scuttle, and leaped out upon the roof.
ead. No sooner had he done so than Sandy was upon his feet

-and in full pursuit.
nile When it came to running or anything in the shape of a

“hot chase the Irishman was not, to so express it, ‘‘in it.”
bly His short legs and heavy body made him a poor pedes-
rish trian, and except in the way of a stand-up fight with his
, of fists, Sandy was no athlete.
ani ‘This, however, did not deter him from doing what he
inkcould in following the audacious individual who called
ave Himself Silver Steele.
hold. The Irishman got upon the roof just as the fugitive was

disappearing at the farther end of it in his descent of the
vith tire-escape.
eral Sandy’s short legs soon bore him to the same point, but
edljin the descent of the fire-escape Sandy made no great
\lexattem pt at haste.

| The fugitive had already disappeared. As this was as

thishort a way to the ground as any, the Irishman determined
intito descend in this manner and interview the first police-
man that he met in the street below.
pe of The fire-escape adder descended into a narrow passage-
sameway between that and another building.

E Sandy made his way down the several flights of stairs
e thavithout-interruption until he reached the last landing
1t tabove the ground.

 
 

 

 

Here he found a window open and glancing in, he say
something which caused him to hesitate and then to ste
from the sill into the room.

No sooner had he done so than the-door on the othe
side of the room opened slightly, though no one appeared,
and Sandy heard a voice exclaim:

‘‘Show me mercy, sir!’’ q

‘“‘That’s just what I propose to do, miss,’’ responded {4
voice which the listener recognized as that of Gentleme
Joe’s double. j

It is needless to say that Sandy’s interest was excita,
instantly to the highest pitch. E .
The feminine voice was one which he had not heard by.

_ fore. But it was very sweet in its tones, and Sandy’s he.
was instantly smitten with sympathy for its possessor. f
His first impulse was to make a dash through the doo,
way and again offer himself as a target for Silver Steele”
treachery.
But ina moment he thought better of it and instem),,
decided to stay where he was and listen and see what wig,
going on between them. ae
Even as he came to this decision the young woman—fg,.
Sandy was sure by the voice of the speaker that she Who -
young and beautiful—said: at:
‘But you would not put me in a felon’s cell, would yoy;
sir?’’ Gg
‘‘But I haven’t said that I would do that,’’ was the 1:
ply, spoken in a voice that was cold and smooth. ar
‘But if you do what you say that will be the result. 61
shall be arrested before the dawn of another day.”’ ]
‘‘That’s your lookout, miss. So I might be arrested
fore the dawn of another day if I was to stand and @
them take me. You must be sharp and take care of youn s¢
sef, miss, that’s all.’’ :
‘But you’re a man, and I’m a woman.”’ .,
‘‘Which is granted, madame. And for that very
you have a decided advantage over me. It’s easier for ‘Bu
woman to escape the consequences of a bit of crookedné‘Do
than itis foraman. Especially if she be young and wilt,
a pretty face.’’

   
   
    
    
     
   
   
 
  

  
 

,

TSS

ol ‘‘But there is no need of my being put in this danger. If
fyou will only do what I ask of you——”’
the, | But I won’t do it, you see.””
req. . Because I suppose that you had rather that I would
‘take the same risks that you have done?”’
“That isn’t the reason at all. The reason is simply this:
,q jLam looking out for myself. I have as much asI can
aa attend to to look after my own affairs. This case of yours
‘fis something which you brought upon yourself, and you
., /must take the zonsequences. I would help you if I could,
site provided I didn’t have to hurt myself in doing so. If you.
could only see Joseph Gentry, of Denver, for instance—he
| Dt has a heart as soft asa puff-ball, and you could make him
8 walk the chalk if you would only plead with him as you
. o| Know how to do and shed a few tears out of those pretty
00" eyes of yours.”’
ele) “But I don’t know the real Joseph Gentry.”
_ “You would know himif you saw him. He looks just
tea like me except that he can’t look ugly andI can. And you
Wé would see a scar or two upon his hands and face if you
‘looked sharp, while I have escaped all such blemishes thus
~f¢ far. He has been in a good many hot fights, I am told, in
Wé the various mining camps. I have been ina few myself,
‘but when it has come to getting badly cut or punched
YOl with bullets, it has been my luck to keep clear of them.’’
| ‘Where could I find Mr. Gentry, and find him quickly?”’
x “Go right to the office of the Silver Gulch Mining Com-
_pany after him. He won’t be there, but if they can’t tell
5, you where he is, they can at least give you some idea
“when and where you can ste him.”’
[be =“‘But why can’t you do this for me just as well? It
|e wouldn’t impair your chan ‘es of escape in the least that I
ow’ can see.’’
“It would take time, and I would also have to run some
risks. I haven’t gained my own play, and I haven’t time
ist’ to handle the cards for anybody else.”’
or’ ‘But you owe me something, Silver Steele.’’
né ‘Dol? Isita kiss? If it is I’ll pay it now and be out of
wii debt.”’
Following this speech there came a low, angry cry from
- {the woman.

 

 

  

 
    
that iene not be to his credit, even if he madea success
of it. f

“*T don’t want to put me finger into a pudding that is to,
hot for me—I guess I'll wait a bit and hear the rest of tht
story,’’ said Sandy to himself. P

“Oh, you needn’t fight, Adele. If that isn’t the sort ¢@
debt that I owe you then I won’t have to pay it, that’s al
There are plenty who wouldn’t fight me off, however, an
some of them are as pretty as you are. But never mi
my girl—let me bid you good-evening.”’

Sandy heard the heavy tread of Silver Steele advanc
toward the very door near which he was himself standi

The room was a small one, and it was quite full
furniture. There was a bed at one side, and Sandy ma®
a break for that and curled up under it with ignominioy
haste. £
. The instant he had done so he felt ashamed of hr

cowardice, but he justified himself in it by the though.
that more could be done by lying low and observing ar,
listening than by exposing himself to the open vengeang
of the all-around sport. c
. He heard Silver Steele spring into the room. Then the
followed an interval of silence.

Sandy was not quite sure that he was out of sight,
make himself doubly sure he cautiously drew his le
farther under the bed. F
_ As he did so, however, he felt a clutch upon his anki 3

and before he could wheel round in self-defense, he we
drawn out from under the bed with startling suddenne

CHAPTER IX.
AT HARD-PAN. 4
Bis, a

On a day about forty-eight hours after the one Whi ¢ ot
was marked by such a rapid succession of events in ince,
city of Denver, and in which Gentleman Joe, Sant
Walter Wayne, and Silver Steele were involved, other bn;

 
   

     
   
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
    
    
   
   
    
  
  

currences took place many miles from the city of Denver,

“which, however, were connected with Denver incidents by
a strong yet invisible thread.
 Themining claim of Walter Wayne and his deceased
partner, Arthur Armstrong, was situated in a wild and
“somewhat isolated spot not many miles from the famous
‘Cripple Creek region in Colorado.

The place which the young men had so aptly named
Hard-pan as yet could not boast of being even a mining
“camp. - ;

_ One rude shanty had been built, and at the moment the
reader’s attention was called to it two new tents had been
pitched there.

Infront of one of the tents stood a handsome man of
iddle age.

The name of this man was Roger Reynolds.

He had come hither in the interest of Mrs. Armstrong
and Ada.

_ One of the tents belonged to him, and the other to the
two mountaineers who had accompanied him as attendants
and guides,

As this man came out of the tent and glanced down the
Narrow trail anxiously a cloud of dust arose above the tops
f the scrubby trees at a point half a mile distant.

Out of this small dust cloud a horseman appeared, and
another moment he had dismounted and was standing
i front of the tent near Roger Reynolds.

“Is this the new camp called Hard-pan?’’ the new-comer
demanded, in a steady but somewhat harsh tone.

This is Hard-pan,’’ was the reply of the older man.
“Has Mr. Walter Wayne arrived yet?”’

_ Mr. Walter Wayne. has not arrived. I have been look-
| ing for him every minute for several hours, I hoped that
| 1 was he when I saw you coming.”’

| Thespeaker met the gaze of the new-comer as he said

_ | this, and as their eyes met each evinced a suspicion toward
: | the other which did not bespeak a very friendly acquaint-

Dn ance.
|  ThenItake it that you are Mr. Reynolds, the repre-
| sentative of Arthur Armstrong’s mother and sister?’”’ the
_ young man asked.

  

   

  
. {
“Tam Roger Reynolds of Pueblo, and I represent t
ladies you have named.” Te wi
‘Well, 1am Ferd Armstrong, brother of the deceased, dyii}
have come to take possession of his claim.”’ is 1
“Have you anything to show for it?’’? the other qothif
manded. f it. |)
‘Nothing but this.”’ pip
As the young man spoke he carelessly pulled a revolfomai
from its holster and fingered the weapon in a way whlesslti
was decidedly defiant. hands
Roger Reynolds eyed him closely and coolly.
The older man was armed, but he did not offer to d
a weapon. tbe
“Tg that all the documents you can show?’’ the re art
sentative of the Armstrongs asked without the slighall te
change in his tone. lai
“Tt’s all I have to show you. I have documents on! Rol
person which identify me and also a letter from myword
ceased brother. ButI shall not take the trouble to simuzai
them to you. If my mother and sister desire to see tlt Yo
they shall do so, but.I shall recognize no claim agen 0 ley
go-between of any sort. And it doesn’t matter whothg 2
his hair is red or green.”’ Hq
Mr. Reynolds. was certainly what is termed a san roper
complexioned man. But it was not because he was seje fe)
tive on that point that his face flushed at the words of | H?
other. ® Thi!
‘‘Very well,’’ he said. ‘‘If you have nothing to show lds
it, then I see only one thing to do with you—that’s to; In 2!
you off the premises. Dol need to speak plainer t Buti!
that?’’ ferd
‘“That’s plain enough, Mr. Reynolds, and when b Wasil
seem to see me going all right—till then it might be y Still
for you to understand that I haven’t got through hain
yet.” _ Eved
‘‘Do you refuse to go at my order?”’ JASLER
‘“‘T refuse to go.”’ _ §
“‘But I have express directions from the owner of Tt W
property to allow no strangers upon it. Remember thi#2 ff
doesn’t belong wholly to the heirs of Arthur Armstrtr i

fe 4

 

’
Bh

t
mm

 

 
ent tle
'He was a friend of mine as well as was his partner, and in
sased./ a dying request he declared that I was to take charge of
Fhis property here and to hold it in the interest of his
her @ mother and sister until suitable disposition could be made
e of it.”

' “That’s a very pretty story that you tell—sounds likea
'romance,’’ sneered Ferd Armstrong, as he leaned care-
lessly against his horse and fingered the weapon in his
hand,

“Hvery word is true. I would be willing to treat with
to dy youconcerning the matter if you had shown yourself to
'beagentleman. But instead you come here and act the
part of a blackguard at the start, and I’ll have nothing at
allto do with you. Once morelI order you to leave the
claim.”’

| Roger Reynolds took a forward step as he spoke these
words, but as he did so he found himself looking into the
muzzle of Ferd Armstrong’s weapon.

_ Young Armstrong had not changed his position except
to level his weapon, and a faint smile of defiance was curl-
ing his mustached lip.

“Hands off, you know—every part of me is private
property, and you see the no-trespass sign looking you in
the face.”

“Ho, there!”’

- shout of alarm came from the lips of Roger Rey-
nolds.

  
  
   
 
   
  
 
 
  
 
   
  
   
 
 
 
  
 
 
   
  
  
 

evoly
y whi

to sh

 

10W
sto! Inresponse to it two men came out from the other tent.
sr tif _ But before they could advance a step.the other hand of

Ferd Armstrong was holding a weapon like‘the first, and
en y it was menacing them.

be yt Still he stood in that cool and defiant position, leaning
h he 4gainst his horse.
' ven the steed seemed to partake of the audacity of its
| waster, for the animal coolly champed its bit and pawed
3 the ground without otherwise stirring from its tracks.
of | it wasa strange sight, this handsome, dark-eyed young
-thatt man thus defying three, two of whom were rugged
strof mountaineers.
_ Keep your distance,’’ said Armstrong. ‘‘I have no de-
' sire to start a graveyard at Hard-pan any sooner than I

  

      

  
   
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
 
  
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
   

  
   
 

 

A

iy

ir
he

+e
aie

Hs

}

am obliged to, for it don’t give & new camp a good namgoger
and I have got an interest in keeping the reputation of thyell k
claim sweet. But we can’t have any foolishness. I happeeculie
to have aright to put my feet on the claim, and it wiignifi
take a dizzy lot of such weak-kneed fellows as you appe each
to be to drive me oft from it.” j
A brief interval of silence ensued.
The two men glanced at each other and then at the mpeyno
who had hired them as attendants. md in
Then to the intense dismay of Roger Reynolds both F
them coolly turned upon their heels and entered the t@
from which he had called them. :
That audacious smile still showed upon the lips of Fda
Armstrong, and that smile broadened perceptibly ask
noticed this ignominious retreat from the field. ¢
‘You sae, it is man to man after all—and I hold &

 
   
 
  
 
 
    
  
  
 
  
 
   

' drop. So we might as well talk business and come to scfbsolu

gort of terms. You think that you don’t need me, bt
don’t pretend that I don’t need you. If I were to wipe y#
out now as I would a mark on a_ piece of paper, it worsen ¢:
cause mea deal of trouble, and 1 am really not anxigou pr
to do it. So if it has to happen, it will be you that pus ase, si
me to it.” Roge

Never were cool and audacious words spoken in CooBSs as
and more audacious tones than these. Nov

Roger Reynolds had allowed one hand to fall upon tfmst
butt of a revolver, but he saw the other follow the mov ‘But
ment, and he knew that the man before him would 1)t to
hesitate to fire if pushed to it. : havi

Mr. Reynolds, the trusted friend and agent of Méen w
Armstrong and Ada, was a man of strong nerve and fill gr
vincible spirit. Ferd

Yot he realized that in the present case he was ata @ando
advantage. le

But a moment before he had supposed that he had #
reat attendants upon whom he might depend in caste w
need.

Yet he had seen them both retreat from the field wil
out offering even the slightest show of resistance. But

If this had been mere cowardice on their parts a hen
y ti

5

 
namdoger Reynolds would not have cared so much, Buthe

of thyell knew that it meant more than this. He knew by the

1appdeculiar smile on the lips of Ferd Armstrong and by the

it wiignificant look of the men themselves that it meant

appedreachery—that his guides in fact had been secretly in the
jire of Ferd Armstrong himself.

Tt was this which for the moment discouraged Roger
1e mReynolds when he otherwise might have defied the cool
fand invincible man before him even to his own death.
oth § ‘You seem to be observing the logic of the situation at

1e tdast,” said Ferd Armstrong, breaking the silence.
“In gamblers’ parlance,’’ spoke Roger Reynolds, ‘‘you

f Féhave stacked the cards. That simply proves that you did
-asfnot dare to trust yourself to play afair game. While I

tknew beforehand that I had a man to deal with who was
ld *not considered quite square I had no idea that he was an
> scabsolute ruffian. Since I have found you out it appears
, buthat] must change my plans entirely. If I had come pre-
pe ypared to encounter a mountain outlaw I should not have
wotbeen caught in this trap. As itis, I’ll make the best of it.
nxi¢You pretend that you want to talk with me. If that’s the
pus) @ase, Say your say.”

; Roger Reynold’s voice had not lost an iota of its firm-
coofmess as he spoke these words.

© “Now we seem to be coming to something,’’ smiled Ferd
on tArmstrong.
mov But we are not coming to itas fast as I wish. I asked
11d 1 you to say what you have to say and have done. Instead

of having two faithful men for attendants I appear to have
f Mibeen wheedled into hiring a pair of knaves who have a
nd (Still greater knave for a master.”’

» Ferd Armstrong suddenly straightened his tall form and
; a @abandoned the indolent attitude which he had assumed at

ithe beginning.
1d t| At the came time the defiant smile left his lips and its
sase place was a look of invincible sternness.

; You have said enough on that score, old man,’’ he ex-
owl claimed. :

: “But I want you to do your talking if you haveany. I
; alam here and ready to listen and you professed yourself

weady to talk. Now speak—or I won’t listen at all.”’

 

‘

 

 

 

 

 
“Don’t be too high and mighty, my man—you’ll find)
easier to get down from the roof if you are going to dq

with me. I haven’t so very much to say but what theres

I’ll put into close measure. To start with, as I said befor

Lhold documents that give me the drop on the whq i
claim business just as I have the drop on you. The wh@ iH

Armstrong share of itismine. Iam not implying by thi
that my mother and sister will not be looked after.”’
“Ts that all?’’

‘‘Not quite. The partner of my brother, T understand It
is a hot-headed young fire-eater, who, when he getsq Li,
here in the wilds had rather fight than eat. It wasli gy

plan to get here ahead of me and buy up the Armstrq@
half of the claim. If he had done so he would have li
the drop on me. But he didn’t make his ante quite
enough in the day. .I reckon that when he appears on§
scene now that he will be mighty ready to sell instead

to buy, and unless I make a big mistake, he will set bh

figures pretty low.”’
‘Ts that all?”’ 4
‘‘Not quite. You ordered me off the claim a few min
ago. Youare here as the agent of the Armstrong
hereby relieve you of all responsibility in the case,
there is anything due you for services in cash I’ll pag
But I want to see your bill inside of ten minutes and
heels inside of fifteen.”’ 3
Roger Reynolds did not stir,from his position in fron
his tent. -
He understood the significance of this last speech §
fectly well.
He knew that Ferd Armstrong had as good as ord@
him off the claim. But the offer to pay him in casli
services rendered was in reality a mockery, since iff
were to accept money from this man it would bea
acknewledgment of Ferd Armstrong’s right to dicta
him. :

|

“T have no charge against you and the responsi bil, Ml
for settling for my services doesn’t rest with you.”” 7 §

“That’s all right—just as you choose. If you haw
pill against me then I’ll have none to pay and possilll

 
‘might kick against paying a very big one anyway. But
ithe other part of my order holds good—the part that re-
lates to your Showing your heels.’’

| “Which means that you order me off the claim?”
| *That’s the plain English of it.”’

» “And if I refuse to go?”’

_ You simply stay to start the grave-yard at Hard-pan,
‘that’s all.’
| And you think that there would be no consequences to

ots, Yourself?”
os) “Ithink that it would be slippery business for the con-
we sequences to strike me—I am as nimble as a mountain goat
' when it comes to dodging consequences. If that hadn’t
; been the case you wouldn’t have seen me here now for the
4 blessed things have been whistling round my ears about
} ever since I began transacting business in my own name.”
| Very well, then. I didn’t care to stay only long enough
0 have a little confab with my guides who have turned
heir backs on me so coolly.”’

“I gave you fifteen minutes and only five of them are —
one. So goand have your confab if you can do it up in
ight minutes. I suppose it will take about two for you to
#t on your horse and set the beast in motion.’’

“Tl go inside of that time. My only wish now is to get

back to Pueblo and do something more decisive——”’

Roger Reynolds interrupted himself, realizing that he
a$ inadvertently saying more than it was prudent to do
nder the circumstances.

Without another word he stepped to the door of the
ther tent.

Afew words were exchanged with the guides, one of
hom with a sheepish grin on his face, came out and got
1s employer’s horse.

“Now ye kin get upon your horse and amble along—we
re powerful sorry to have to say good-by to ye, but ye
ve we can’t serve two masters and we have got to keep
ith the one who carries the whip with the longest lash.’?
This speech was made by the guide who got the horse

for Roger Reynolds.
The latter made no reply.
Without hardly a moment’s delay he mounted and

 

 
started down the narrow trail at a swift pace.
The instant he was out of sight Ferd Armstrong turn}

to the treacherous mountaineer who was watching his li

master out of sight, and said:
‘‘Can I trust you to follow him, Nat?”’
“T yeckon ye kin.”’ ‘
‘And will you just let him pull the wool over yo
eyes if you come face to face with him?”’
“*T reckon I won’t.”’
“Then go ahead, get in advance of him if you can, a
cut him off. I wasn’t so anxious to start a grave-yard he

at Hard-pan. But if Roger Reynolds should pitch off que:

horse and fall into Ghost Gulch ten miles below hers

would give the cayotes and buzzards a good feast andpiutr

mee good turn at the same time. Do you understal
at?’ _-
“T reckon I kin seo through a ladder when ye lid
broke half a dozen rounds out,’’ was the reply.
Five minutes later the man called Nat was liken
mounted on a good horse and moving swiftly in pul sy
of Roger Reynolds. Poi
It was an errand of death upon which he had started>”

eee eet et

CHAPTER X.
JARED JOYCE.

Morning dawned bright, clear, and beautiful in E
Queen City of the mountains. E

It was buta little after sunrise when Gentleman my

ascended the stairs in a somewhat dilapidated buildin .
the oldest part of the city, and at the present time nog,
the most savory part of the city either. t

Up two flights of these rickety stairs climbed the
Edged Sport somewhat slowly, showing that he Fae
wearied by his night’s adventures. tt

He had not indeed had a bit of sleep.

After leaving the Armstrongs and returning tof
place where he had met with his mishap, it will aE
membered that he was startled by hearing a ery for

 
 

yard ¥

ch of ie

y hq ip
ist al lf
derg i

» way along a narrow passage-way.

ye] #

tart |

ful | |

‘ime 4

sd th
at hi

ing
¢ Wildly |
ry fh

 

 

He would have investigated the matter himself had it
not been that he wished to pursue his investigations in
another direction at that moment.

The cry for help, in his estimation, did not come from

"any person with whom he was connected.
ver | ith

Therefore after listening for a moment he returned to
the sidewalk and spoke of the matter to the first policeman

whom he met.

To the same officer he gave instructions to closely watch

© the building and to detain the man who had been mas-

guerading as himself.

Leaving the matter thus, he had made his way to the
quarter of the city where we now find him ascending to
the second story of a dilapidated building.

Arriving at the top of the second flight, he groped his

The floor was uncarpeted, and it sagged so that it seemed

We aif he was walking downa slope while the boards creaked
n ph under his feet.

Yet he took no especial care, showing that he had been
ever the way many times before.
Atlast he reached a door at the extreme end of the

_ passage.

He knocked upon it, and received no response at first.
He waited and listened and then knocked again, more

+ loudly.

A moment after some one stirred within and footsteps

| approached the door, the latch was raised, and Gentleman

end
build =

Joe found himself confronted by one of the strangest-
looking old men to be found in the whole city of Denver.
The face that looked into that of Joseph Gentry was

F thin, sharp, and with a skin as yellow as parchment.

The eyes were deep-set and piercing, jet black in hue,
and overhung by beetling gray brows.

The man wore a skull-cap drawn close around his small,
round head down to his ears.

He was smoking a short clay pipe, and he did not take
the trouble to remove it from his mouth as he recognized
his visitor.

“Come in, Gentleman Joe.”’

 

 
 

 

This invitation was spoken in a voice which was as @
and husky as might have been expected from such a @
and shriveled throat. t

“‘T need your help, Jared Joyce—and I need it mig
bad.”’

The door was shut and bolted, and Gentleman Joe sa
down into one of the two chairs which the small, clutter
up reom contained.

A more dismal, dusty, littered box of a room it wo iH
be hard to imagine than this which was occupied by Ja
Joyce.

Usbeobs hung from the ceiling and festooned the ¢

ners. Dust which must have been many months Aci

mulating lay on every object in the room which had ut i
recently been touched. t
The furniture of the room was of the most meagre r

miserable description.

The chair in which Gentleman Joe was sitting had on
three legs, and it was a matter of much presence of mi
for the one occupying it to maintain an upright position

Even the seat of it had been broken through and)
paired by cotton twine which had been woven ina per§
network across the frame.

The other chair, which had been occupied by Jat
Joyce himself, had formerly been a roeker. The seat lim
given out and been repaired in the same way as the ott
The woven twine was covered and cushioned by o
Jared Jdyce’s old coats.

A small table littered with papers and letters, with di
everywhere and upon everything, stood between the ff
chairs. 7

Upon somé shelves on the wall were several books, a
or the bottom one was a black bottle and glass.

The glass was the only clean thing in the room; itt
evident enough that Jared Joyce kept this well oleal
eut with the contents of the bottle.

Fhe old man seated himself in his own chair, fff
which he had been disturbed by Gentry’s knock. hh

As yet hardiy a word had passed between them. Jail
had still puffed away at his pipe, making the cloul
smoke in the little, stifling room still more dense.

 
_ “Why in the name of wonder don’t you open a window,
_Jared?”’ demanded Gentleman Joe.
“Because it would let in too much cold. I have get cold

‘ : already and I don’t want to get any more. You see, my

 

 

coal is getting low and I haven’t got much of a fire—just
enough to warm my fingers over.”’

Jared Joyce grinned as he made this remark.

Gentleman Joe seemed to find it hard to restrain the
impatient response which rose to his lips.

Yet whatever that response might have been, he did not
utter it. He knew that it would not be good policy for him
to excite the displeasure of this mysterious tenant ef the
miserable room.

For the services which he sought Gentleman Joe knew
that there was not another man in the city of Denver—
perhaps not in the country—who could equal this untidy
old miser.

“Well, Jared Joyce, I suppose there is no use in my
trying to reform you,’’ smiled Gentleman Joe.

‘Pretty late to begin, Mr. Gentry. If you had started in
fifty years ago you might have done something. But I am
apretty old fox now to teach any new tricks in that line.
That don’t make it just the same, Mr. Gentry, that my
‘eyes and ears aren’t all right yet and a good many of my
Wits are still lively and kicking—he, he!’

' “1 did’t come here to reform you, Jared, I came for
help in your line.”’

“You want some money?” the old man squeaked, raising
his eyebrows and looking shrewdly from under them at
his visitor.

“No, I don’t want money. I want a few points of infor-
mation. Did you ever see another man in the city of Den-
yer that looks like me?”’

“Did I? And suppose I had?”’

“Tasked you the question.”’

‘Well, to put it straight, I suppose I have.”’

‘Have you seen him more than once?”’

: _ Two or three times, I reckon. Maybe three er four
imes, ”’

 

 
‘When was the first time and when the last?”’ q

“The first might have been three months ago, andy,
might have been four months ago. If you want the exal
date I can give it to you.”

‘“‘No matter about that now—an approximate idea of t
time will do. When was the last time you saw him?”

‘(What if I should say that it was yesterday?”’

‘‘T should have no reason to dispute your word. I ame ag,
understand, then, that you saw this double of mine as logs
as yesterday?”’ fy

‘*Ves, I saw him yesterday.’’

‘*Did he come here to see you?”’

‘“Yes, he came here to see me.’’

‘“*Was his business private?”’

‘*His business was private.’’

“So private that you can’t tell me what it was?’’ E

“That depends, Mr. Gentry. You know I am one of ti
sort who will do some things for a consideration, som,
things I can’t do under any consideration, and some ae
things I will do without any consideration at all.” rh

The old man chuckled in his peculiar, cunning way,
he said this. th

But Gentleman Joe was too much in earnest to mil
Jared Joyce’s whimsicalities.

‘*In the present case, Jared, you know that I am willi
to pay any reasonable consideration for any kind
service. I came here to get you to help me, and I ama
to. pay for what I want. Iknow that you are an Wy
shyster, an old skinflint, and almost every other kind off
title which can be applied to a man whose one thought®
life is to get hold of all the money he can and to keep itt)
long as he can.”’ rf

““Ye’ve got it, Mr. Gentry—ve couldn’t have hit it clog mgy.
—ye couldn’t have hit it closer.”’ E

‘"Then tell me what this double of mine wanted of We
yesterday.’’ | Ue)

“In the first place he wanted to know something abi
you.”’

“What did he want to know?”’ t

“He mentioned two or three banks where you had@ #
posits, and he wanted to know if there were any otha

 
 

 

 

 

and he wanted to know what mining companies you had
stock in and in which of them you held offices.”’

“Did you tell him?”’

Jared Joyce grinned, showing his yellow teeth as he
held his pipe betwixt his thumb and finger.

“T can’t remember any of them things, Mr. Gentry.”

The old man chuckled as he said this.

ae remembered after he offered to pay you well for
ie”

“That’s just the reason I couldn’t remem ber—’cause he

didn’t offer to pay me well. He just said he would make

itright with me. But when I asked him how much he

would give he just said again he would make it right with

me. Sol pretended that I give him all I knew, and that
as blessed little—that was blessed little.”

“Aye you telling me the truth now, J ared Joyce?”’

“Tam telling you the truth, Mr. Gentry—I am telling

u the truth.”’

“And did he make it right with you?”’

“He give mea dollar. What do you say to that? ButlI

ckon he made it right with me, for the only thing I told

m wasn’t so—it wasn’t so.”’

ee he didn’t make much out of his call upon you,

ared?”’

“He didn’t make much, and I made a dollar—I made a

lar, Mr. Gentry.”’

“Now, Jared, am I to understand that you know no

ore about this double of mine than you have told me?’’

“T don’t know very much more about him, Mr. Gentry.

haven’t had time to look him up much yet. If he had

en more flush with his money I might have been more
Time is money, you know—time is
oney.

“Except when you are smoking a pipe.’’

“Tt 1s money when I’m. smoking my pipe, for it’s then
‘that Ido my planning. There’s nothing like a pipe full of
good tobacco to fill a man’s mind full of schemes for ob-
faining cool cash and for obtaining hot cash, too, Mr.|
Gentry—and for obtaining hot cash.”

There was an odd twinkle in the old man’s eye as he

 

 
Gentleman Joe would hardly have noticed them at al :

but for the gleam in the miser’s eye that accompanied th |

speech.
‘“‘What’s that you said? Something about hot cash?=
Gentleman Joe quickly demanded. 1
““T didn’t say nothing in particular about hot cashe
nothing in particular.”’

“But hot cash, Jared Joyce, is silver fresh from thie 748"

mint. You know that as well as I do.’
‘‘T suppose I do, Mr. Gentry.”’
‘Do you mean to say that you have got hold of som@
stuff that is freshly coined?’’
“IT got hold of a piece the other day that was pretty
warm—almost hot—almost hot, Mr. Gentry.”’ :
‘“‘What do you mean by that, Jared? You don’t meap
‘Ves, I do, Mr. Gentry—yes, I do.”’ pF
The old man whispered the words and nodded rapidly ap 4
he uttered them. t OF

‘You mean that you have got hold of some stuff run cf : ype

by a private mint—counterfeit stuff?’

‘'That’s the plain United States of it, Mr. Gentry.’’

‘*Who gave it to you?”’

“*I found it.”’

‘*What do you mean by that?’’

“Tl picked it up. I went to visit a friend on a certs
street in a certain city in a certain room ina cert
house, something dropped through a certain register ov

head, and I picked it up. It was a piece of money, andi 4

was pretty warm, Mr. Gentry—it was pretty warm.”’ }

Gentleman Joe sprang up and leaning across the table”
laid one hand lightly but firmly on the shoulder of thy ;
speaker.

‘*You’ll tell me, Jared Joyce, the location of that houg ie
and all about it. This is animportant matter—you know 79F ©
perfectly well that the United States Government emplof a

me to look after those things in the city of Denver.”’

“That’s why I spoke of it, Mr. Gentry. I don’t like
counterfeit money myself. I have got hold of poor stuf
before now and I don’t like it. I like good money and lof

 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 

led) i

   

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
  

| ofit, but when aman gets hold of the queer stuff he is
| iikely to get into trouble—he is likely to get into trouble.
| And another point is, that I don’t like to spend the time te
| test every piece of money that comes into my hands. I
- can make a new dollar about as quick as [can test an old
one. And then when I find that the old one isn’t good I
have to hustle round and find the man who gave it to me
and then perhaps not find him, it doesn’t pay, Mr. Gentry
—it doesn’t pay.’’

| It was evident enough that there was no matter of
| moral principle in Jared Joyce’s scruples against counter-
feit money.

His only objection was the inconvenience caused him
and the possible loss.

He objected to counterfeit-money on the same score that

the bank objects to it. He wanted money that was good
hecause he wanted it to deposit and invest, and only good
money could be used for that purpose.
Ifhe had wanted the money to spend it might be that
he would not have objected to an occasional counterfeit
piece, and he would have been sharp enough. to have
worked off such stuff without getting caught.

But Jared Joyce did not want money to spend.

“I'll tell you all about the place, Mr. Gentry, and I’ll
give you such minute directions to it and all about it that
you needn’t bea mite uncertain. But you want to work
gasy—you want to work easy.”

“They are a sharp set, are they?”’

“A mighty sharp set. And ugly, too—why, they would
do this to you.”’

Jared Joyce flung back his head, baring his skinny
throat, and drew one finger from one ear to the other
with a grim sort of grimace, as a dumb explanation ef the
sort of fate that would visit Gentleman Joe if he were to
be too careless in intruding upon the counterfeiters.

At that moment a knock sounded upon the door.
| _ Instantly Gentleman Joe sank back upon his chair while
| Jared Joyce, without raising his head, let out a first-class
| imitation of a snore.

| he knock was repeated—Jared Joyce snored again, and

then the knock sounded louder yet—and Jared Joyce

 

 

 
 
 
 
 

 

brought up his head with a snort and exclaimed, inj k
wheezy voice: i
‘*Who knocks?”’
“Open the door, and you'll see.”
It was the voice of Silver Steele, Gentleman Soa .
gentlemanly double, who uttered these words.

CHAPTER XI.
JARED JOYOCE’S JOKE.

Gentleman Joe recognized that voice and likewise ai
Jared Joyce.

The Gilt-Edged Sport rose, crossed the room, and silent
removing several bundles and baskets which were pi
one upon another, squeezed himself by them, and by t
means worked himself into asort of alcove which w
stored with odds and ends of all sorts—including cobw
and spiders.

Jared Joyce, without comment either by word or lo
yawned vociferously as if he were awaking from ap
longed doze.

Then he got up, and with a good deal of clatter, hobb
across the room to the door, paused there to yawn aga
and then flung back the bolt, saying, as he did so:

‘‘Come in, Mr. Steele, come in. Maybe you knock
more than once, Mr. Steele, it sort of seems as if I hear
noise before I woke up—before I woke up, Mr. Steele.”

Silver Steele glided into the room with the noiselessn
of a tiger and closed the door after him.

Without a word he went to the chair which had ju

it.

 

 

been vacated by Gentleman Joe and seated himself upd Nhe

No sooner had he done so, however, than he sprang Uff 9,7:
and bending over the chair, placed his hand wpon the seat

The next instant he whirled about, and that fierodly 7%,
vicious look which his face sometimes wore was bent fal} ¥,..
upon Jared Joyce.
‘Who else is there in this room, old man?”’
  

ned, iz

an Jo

“Just you and me, Mr. Steele—and the cat.”
The old man showed every broken tooth in his head
and the spaces where there had once been teeth when he

made this retort.
“He, he!” he chuckled. ‘‘And_ the cat, Mr. Steele—and

“the cat,” he repeated, his shrewd eyes looking fair and
| square into the fierce orbs of his visitor.

“] pelieve you’re lying. If you dumped the cat out of

' this chair where is the animal now? Show me the beast.”’

Jared Joyce, still chuckling, hobbled over to the other

side of the room and thrust one arm under a broken table

wise (

silent
Bre pil
L by tt
ich ¥
cobw

or lof
m af

hobli
D agi

knod
hear
ele."
slessil

aad :
If up

rang!
the st

fiert
pent

which was heaped over and underneath with bundles and
bales, exclaiming as he did so:

“Come out, Tabby—nobody but Mr. Steele, Tabby.”’

A spitting, snarling sound came in response to this
invitation, and the old man hastily withdrew his hand and
held the back of it up to his mouth with a muttered oath.

“Drat the beast!’’ he huskily exclaimed.

And Silver Steele, watching the man closely, saw a long
seratch on the back of the man’s hand, from which the
blood had begun to ooze.

“Tf you want Tabby, Mr. Steele, you must come and get
her out yourself. Ill be blessed if I'll do it—I’ll be ever-
lastingly blessed if I will.”

The suspicions of the visitor were allayed.

Yet had he but known it, Jared Joyce’s cat was at that
moment nowhere in the room.

The spitting sound which Silver Steele had heard had
been emitted from the lips of Jared Joyce himself. And
the scratch upon the man’s hand had ween purposely in-
flicted upon a broken nail underneath the table.

“Come round, old man, and get into your chair—wait a
minute, though. Pull down that black bottle and the
tumbler, won’t you?”’

Jared Joyce came around to his side of the table, took
the black bottle down from the shelf, and squinted at it as
he held it between his face and the dusty window-pane.

Then he set it back upon the shelf with a shake of his

shaggy head.

   

“Tt won’t go, Mr. Steele—it won’t go,’’ he said, in his
husky tones.
‘And what is the matter with it?” S
‘‘Just enough for one drink, Mr. Steele, that’s all.” F
“Then you may hand down the bottle without the gle
—I[ don’t need the tumbler. And you can sit there af
watch me suck the spout of the jug. ;

‘Don’t you think I am pretty liberal, Mr. Steele, to gif J
you a square drink and go without myself?”’

‘‘Tt’s more blessed to give than to receive, you kno
And a man as old. as you are ought to have found that oF
before this time.’ ;

“That depends, Mr. Steele—that depends. ”’

Silver Steele shrugged his shoulders and rising, reachiy*
over the table to seize the bottle himself. .

Jared Joyce watched him furtively until he had q q
bottle in his hand, and then with a cat-like spring
old man clutched the bottom of the bottle with both hank
_and jerked it away from his visitor. F

With the same still motion Jared Joyce slid the otf. ;
of precious fluid down under his chair. At the same tig
he dropped back into his seat. e

A red flame leaped into the cheeks of Silver Steele, ap;
the hand which a moment before had held the neck of ,
bottle closed spasmodically as if he hada mind to sel ;
the throat of the miser. :
But he seemed suddenly to think better of it.

Instead of making any further demonstration in th,
direction, Gentleman Joe’s double dropped baek into t_
chair which Gentleman Joe himself had occupied but; a
minute before. E

He breathed hard for a moment, and it was evida
that he was controlling himself by a great effort. | :

Jared Joyce gazed at him furtively from under I
beetling brows and showed his scraggy teeth in a fal a
grin of ‘exultation. .

‘‘Keep your poison,’’ Silver Steele said, at last. I

“Just what I am going to do, Mr. Steclo—just what, ‘Stat
am going to do.’ | Tete

“‘T come here this time for facts. When I called yest ti
day I asked you certain questions about a certain citim °°
of Denver. I paid youa dollar for the point which 0 | cou

 
a, 4 Diy)

 

md

pied

 

rt,
. unde
ina

Ast.
—juat W

valled ye
rtain @

 

 

 
 

+* most of them you said that you di
(4, one of them that you did know.
| making some inquiries about yo
4, you have transac
“| that he comes here a g
| here within a week to my cer

' some of the questions I asked you

} truthfully.”

k int Tr 4 “No, you don’t mean W
| Won't answer them, not that you couldn’t.”’

vas ew Mr. Steele. What I won’t do I can
|) from a boy and it was a long
| life, too I might tell yo
' between Jared Joyce at the age of four
 4rious father. That illustrious
| asnes for more than twenty years under
_ State of Illinois. The elder Joyce upon the
_ refer to, told the younger Joyce that he mu

ming. The younger Joyce went swimming and the older
one asked him why h
couldn’t keep out of the water.

 

   

Within two hours I! found out that you had

' lied.”

thé plas. u found it out, Mr. Steele—sorry you found it
enh | any
| you old skinflint.

'pugged? Do
| have a mind to chuck at me?”’

Sorry yo
99

“You may be sorrier before I get through with you,

Do you think I come here to be hum-

you think I will swallow all the bluffs you.

“T don’t know what you mean, Mr. Steele.”’

“T’T] soon make the matter clear to you unless you have

7 a skull that is thicker than any Lever run my fist against
‘yet. I found that you lied to me more

than once at that.’’

“Very sorry—very sorry.”
“T asked you some questions about Joseph Gentry. To
dn’t know and to only

Since then I have been
uand Ihave found that
ted a good deal of business together and
ood deal to see you. He has been
tain knowledge. I know that
might have answered.

“T told you, Mr. Steele, that I couldn’t answer them.

HY and [told you the truth when I said it.”

“What do you mean?”’
“Just what I say, Mr. Steele—just what I say.”’
hat you say. You mean that you

same in my dictionary,
+ do—always the same
time ago that I started into
ua little story about a transaction
teen and. his illus-
father has been moldering
the soil in the
occasion that I
gtn’t go swim-

“The two things are just the

e did it. The younger said he
The older one went and.

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
got a horsewhip and set out to wear it out over the Dati face:
of the younger one. But the younger one wa’n’t Soins 3

to stand that either. He used his legs, Mr. Steele, be
used his legs, It was ten years before the elder Joyce ani

the younger looked into each other’s faces again. It wal

all on account of the younger Joyce not being able to q ;
what he didn’t want todo. Do you see the point of the

- anecdote, Mr. Steele—do you see the point?’’

Silver Steele did not see the point—in fact he had nop
heard three words of the old man’s story. i
Indeed, the double of Gentleman Joe seemed to be abe
sorbed in reflections of his own and the husky tones of thi :
miser had no more effect on his inward communing:
than did the rattling of the loose window-pane in the wind)
“Now look you here, old man,’’ Silver Steele sharply
exclaimed. ;
*‘I am looking right at you, Mr. Steele.’’
‘When did you see Joseph Gentry last?”
: “Last time he was here, Mr. Steele—last time he wat
ere.’

‘*Haven’t you seen him outside of this room since?’’ :
“Haven't seen him outside of this room, Mr. Steel
since the last time he was here.’”’

‘And that was yesterday?”’
“No, it wasn’t yesterday. It was two days before.”’
“Is this the truth you’re giving me?”
: ae straight gospel, Mr. Steele. Iam willing to swealp
O it.

“If your oath isn’t better than your word I wouldnt
give much for it. There is only one thing that would maki
you tell the truth and that’s the fear of either losing”
money or your neck.’ | :

“You're not every complimentary, Mr. Steele.’’

“I didn’t come here to pay you compliments, old man,
In the first place instead of facts I want money. TI hayvé
been trying to see how much I could raise in one way and,
another the last few days, and I am just one thousand
dollars short of what I need. I want you to lend it to me.)

*‘Where is your collateral, Mr. Steele?”’ 4

The old man leaned across the table and leered into th

 

 

 
face of his visitor with a glance that seemed to go into the
man’s very soul.

“T thought I ought to be able to get that amount with-

out showing up any gecurity.”’

“Want to borrow it just on a note, do you?”’

“Just on my note, Mr. Joyce.”

“Got two good indorsers, I suppose?”’ the miser asked.

“Indorsers? what do you want of them?”’

“The banks require them, Mr. Steele—the banks require

them.”’

“But you aren’t a bank.’’

“Tphat’s true. And all the more reason why I have to
look out for my money. It’s my own money that I handle
and if I lose it I lose it. If the banks lose it their custom-

ers lose it, don’t you see?”’
_ “T don’t care for any arguments on the subject at all.
‘Will you lend me the thousand dollars on my note or not
payable in thirty days?”’

‘And no Indorsers?”’

‘“Nary an endorser, Mr. Joyce.’
 “Tcan’t do it—I can’t doit. Tke fact is I haven’t the
“money. I have had to run close all the geason—1l am out
of coal, I am out of provisions, Tam out of tobacco, and
you can see that Iam out of whisky. lI couldn't raise &
: fend dollars for you to-day if it was to save my
_neck.”’

“Couldn’t you now? Not to save your neck? Now let’s
“see. Just pass your neck over here and let’s see if you
- don’t value it at a thousand dollars.”’

- Gilver Steele rose and stretched out one arm as if to
 elutch the skinny neck of the old money lender.

Ashe did soa step sounded behind him. He wheeled
and Gentleman’s Joe’s double found himself face to face
with Gentleman Joe himself.

’

 
 

 

  

CHAPTER XII.
ADELE’S ANTR.

It is some time since we left Walter Wayne in the midge
of a strange and unlooked-for encounter at the door of §
dwelling in the city of Denver.

In his impetuous determination to solve the mystery
suggested by the discovery of the gold coin the young
Hotspur from Hard-pan had thrown himself headlong inti
a struggle the outcome of which was certainly doubtful, |

The man who had so promptly grappled with hing
within the door was very near his own size and weight;

Indeed, if left to themselves, it is doubtful Which would
have won in the tussle. .

There was nothing very skillful in the fight.

Neither of the combatants had either taken lessons iif
wrestling or in boxing. :

It was therefore like two boys, fiercely angry at each
other, pitching in, to so express it, tooth and nail. ;

It was atest of muscle and individual skill—nothingy
else.

For a minute or two their forms swayed to and fro ante
then they both fell to the floor with a force that shook thep
house.

Walter Wayne had his hand upon the throat of his adp
versary, and the other had a similar grip upon the throatf
of the young Hotspur.

For a moment it looked as if it would bea chokingy
match. The one who would be able to hold out longest
without drawing a breath would win.

In this sort of a test it speedily seemed that Walterp
Wayne would prove victorious—owing perhaps to greaterp
lung capacity or to the very temper which had impelledp
him to invite a doubtful contest.

But at this moment steps sounded near them and a lows
musical voice exclaimed: -

‘“Why, what is the meaning of this?”’ .

Since neither of the combatants had any breath to spare)
there was no reply to this query.

The speaker was a young woman with a handsome face}
dark, lustrous eyes, and a fine figure. t

Her eyes, lustrous as we have said, had an expression inf.
them which was not beautiful in a woman.
They had a look of fierceness in them—a fierceness thatp

 

 

 
  
  

 

  
 

  
     

  
   
   
  
  
  
 
 
 
  
  

oo pp

    
  

    
} was almost tigerish—as they glared into the face of the
} young man who was so fiercely fighting with the one
| whom she had addressed.

A single glance showed her the situation.

7 i And an instant later a small silver-mounted revolver
} appeared in her hand, and the muzzle of it touched the

 

 

temple of Walter Wayne.
“Tet go, you villain!’’ she hissed.
The young Hotspur felt the cold ring pressing against

® his temple, and at the same time his eyes sought the beau-

7 tiful face that was bending over the combatants.

| Instantly he released his grip upon the throat of his ad-

yersary. .

He realized full well that the odds were terribly against
hi

im.

Indeed, Walter Wayne obeyed the command of this
" young woman more quickly than he would have done had
' the command come from the fiercest-looking ruffian in the
city of Denver.
' Heseemed to know instinctively that there was more
danger in defying her threat.

But as he released his own grip, he at the same time

flung himself backward with a suddenness that flung off
_ the grip upon his own throat.
' Then with the same agility which both men had shown
' from the beginning of the fight, they sprang to their feet.
' The young woman thrust herself between them, for it
was clear that they would have almost instantly resumed
_ the fight had she not done so.

“Don’t be a pair of fools!’’ she exclaimed.

‘Maybe you're right, Adele—perhaps we are a pair of
fools to use ourselves up just to see which is the best
man. But lock that door, Adele—be sure and make it
secure. ’’

- “To be sure, Jack. Iam willing to do anything for
you. But what is the meaning of this affair?’’

“That’s something which I can’t make clear to you
tow, Adele. After we have gotten our visitor up stairs
and made him comfortable and secure, then I’ll tell you
all about it.”’

 
 

 

   

“T reckon your visitor will move on, Jack,’’ Walter
Wayne put in, with.a faint smile, as he took a backwany
step to the door.

But instantly he found himself looking into the muzzle
of a weapon held by the girl.

‘‘No, you don’t, my dandy! You’re a very good-looking)
young fellow, even if your hair is red, but you mustnt
wade in over boots, not in this ranch at least.”’

Walter Wayne hesitated.

It did not seem possible to him that the young womanp
before him would actually put her threat into execution. |

Would she coolly shoot him down if he were to persisif
in his attempts to escape?

They were within three yards of the street.

Only the door intervened between them and the side
walk, along which even at that moment could be hearif
the sound of passing footsteps.

“Put down the gun, girl! You wouldn’t murder a many
would you?’’ 4

It was Walter Wayne who spoke, and his clear, blup
eyes looked into the purplish orbs of the girl called Adelg
unflinchingly. E

“Why not, my young Hotspur? If you will come intoay
private house and fight with the tenants of it, why shouli?
I not defend my own premises?”’ 3

**T didn’t make the attack.”’ .

‘*But you came in by force,’’ said the man called Jack. F

‘**T reckon I had good reason. I had picked up a countery
feit gold coin on your steps and it fell out of your windows
You lied about it. Both circumstances prove that you amy
guilty of something, and I reckon that I wouldn’t have tp
guess a great while to find out what it is that you amp
guilty of either.’’

Once more Walter Wayne was showing his indiscretioy
by putting into words the suspicion which had been bornép
in upon him the moment he had discovered the gold coilp
upon the step. :

“T’ll admit that I lied about it,’? said the man calle]
Jack, with a sudden change of tone and face. F
‘Will you admit that it is counterfeit?’ :
‘I don’t know anything about it. I said that it belongel)

 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
   

 

 
Valter |
kward |

auzzle §

ooking

ustn’t

roman §&

10N.
ersist

side. F

heard
man,

, blue

dele f

ntoa §
ould F

ck.

nter-

dow.

u are f

ve to

are

etion |

orne

coin

alled |

 

nged |

 

 

     

to me—in that I lied. I never saw it before, but to tell the
truth it’s the sum of money that I need, and I need it
mighty bad.’’

“You need money so bad that you would pitch into a
man and choke him to death, while your friend here
whom you call Adele would put a bullet into his brain.
That strikes me as making a big and dangerous fight over
a pretty small matter. If you took my life here do you
suppose that you would escape the consequences?”’

“T suppose that you had no business to come in here.
You came in against my willand made a fight on my
premises. We have a right to defend ourselves. We would
be justified in shooting you—how do we know that you
didn’t come here for the purpose of robbing us?”’

“Of gold eagles, eh? Ishouldn’t think you would be
afraid of being robbed if you are as hard up as you pre-
tend. Now itlooks to measif you were trying two or
three different kinds of bluff, and there isn’t one of them
that will bear the light. ‘The best thing you can do is to
make me no trouble and let me go about my business.”’

Adele very softly laid her hand on the arm of the young
Hotspur.

‘Look here, young man!’’ she exclaimed.

“What is it, young woman?”’

“Do you mean to say that if we'll let you out you'll go
about your business?”’

“That’s exactly what I'll do.”

“And just about your own business? Are you quite sure
that you wouldn’t tell anybody of what you have seen and
heard and about the gold coin and things of that sort?”’

“TI might not like to promise that.”’

“Treckon not. And that’s just the reason I hate to part
with you. Now I said a minute ago that you were a good-
looking young fellow, and I hope you won’t think lam
too bold for my sex if I say that have taken such a
liking to you that I can’t bear to have you go out and
brave the dangers of the city streets. Just walk up into
my parlor, little fly, and see what a pretty web I am
weaving.’

These words were spoken in a bantering tone.

  
The gir: was very beautiful, and her voice was very
sweet.

Indeed, under other conditions Walter Wayne might
have been impressed by such beauty and such a voice.

It cannot be denied that those lustrous eyes looking intop
his did impress him, although their glance was anything
but a friendly one.

“Tf I stay as you command, what then?’’ asked Walterp
Wayne.

‘‘You ask too much. When the fly walked into the
parlor of the spider he asked no questions—he just a¢f

cepted the invitation. That’s what I want you to do. You

don’t know but what you would be used better than evel :
before in your life. We have a cozy home here and we’np
very friendly with our friends, but mighty fiery with ow
enemies.

Waiter Wayne was in a quandary. Indeed, he was inp
something worse than that, for he realized that he was inf
a trap.

It was not the first time that he had got into difficulty
by following his impulses in that headlong manner. Whilé®
he hardly believed that the girl would use her weapon iff
he tried to escape from the house, Walter Wayne was byp
no means certain that she would not do so.

He dared not put her to the test. :

He reached back his hand until it rested upon the door§ 1

Click, sounded the weapon, and at the same time therep
was another click which was nearly as ominous.

It was made by the white teeth of Adele as she brought
them together with a snap.
= aoe Wayne took his hand off the door and said, as he

id so:

“You hold the drop, miss, as they say in mining camps#

I reckon I'll have to cave.”’

CHAPTER XIII.
A BREAK FOR LIBERTY.

To say that Silver Steele, the all-around sport, WAS SUI: |
prised, is putting the truth in its mildest form.

 

 
 

, Ta

   

 

 

 

 

   

Yet he did not allow the unexpected appearance of his
most dangerous foe to break him up.

Silver Steele did not attempt to draw a pistol.

He would not have cared to use it then even if he had
had an opportunity, for to have done so in that locality
would have been sure to have filled the building with
police before he could get out of it.

Although the building was an old, ramshackle affair, it
was not by any means the resort of common crooks.

Nearly all the occupants of it were respectable people,
and old Joyce, the money-lender and miser, was the least
so of all.

It was the abiding place of poverty but not of crime,
proving that the two do not necessarily go together.

Gentleman Joe was no more inclined to use a revolver
than was his double.

He had the latter very nearly where he wanted him.
There was a chance to call him to account, and if the
genuine Gentleman Joe was but the superior of the imita-
tion, there was an opportunity likewise to pull the man
up short in his career.

A crisis in their strange conflict had come earlier than
either of them had expected.

It promised to beaclose one and one that would test
the peculiar abilities of each to the utmost.

While at first it looked as though Joseph Gentry would
throw himself upon Silver Steele and that a test of the
prowess of each would there be made, yet no such action
took place—at least not then.

The two men stood simply with the form of each drawn
up to its full height and the eyes of each looking squarely
into those of the other without any sign of flinching.

It would have been hard to have found two men in the
city of Denver whether they looked alike or not, who
would have made a finer appearance than these.

' There was something almost royal in the poise of those
eads.

It was like a meeting of kings or princes of the blood.

i rather think you had better tackle somebody of your
$1z0,’

 

 

 

 
These words were spoken by Gentleman Joe in a void)
that showed not the faintest trace of excitement. 3
‘‘Maybe you’re right. And Iseem to see a pretty gooj”
specimen right in front of me,’’ was the retort, spoken ij
a tone which was not one whit less cool than that of
Gentleman Joe himself.
“This is a poor place to fight it out—a poor place i
fight it out, gentlemen,’ interrupted Jared Joyce, neny
ously. :
“Tf you wish to do any neck-twisting, Silver Steele, if
might be well for you to begin on mine. You see, mip
has never been twisted yet, andI am after new expeip
ences.”’ ;
‘‘Much obliged for the suggestion. If you have really
had a long-felt want in that direction, I'll say to you tip
same as I said to Skinny Joyce here—just pass your net
along.”’ j
‘That isn’t the sort of game that I’m playing—it isly
the sort that I passin. It’s my deal and your ante.” fF |
“That’s straight. But you see that itisn’t the sortip
play that I am hankering after. It might be if we gotif
twisting necks, that neither of us would come out quip
whole. I think a good deal of my good looks, and I takei—
that you do, sol reckon that we won’t bruise each othtp
just for the sport of it. It would have been easy enouge
for me to twist the neck of old Joyce, but since you walp
me to twist yours before I can tackle his, I reckon I'll pay
whether it is a ‘pass’ game or not. Just stand aside ang
T’ll pass out.”’

‘‘T reckon not, my dandy. I have got you right wheny
want you and if you slip through my fingers you won’tift
it easy. You were going to twist that old man’s neck aif
so force him to make what you were pleased to call a loath
But I reckon that if you had got the cash out of him #
that way it would have been called robbery when you
case come to be calied up in court.”’

‘*You see I didn’t intend to have my case called.”’

“Your call has come already—you have played you
game and lost it. Don’t you think for a minute that yo
can win in thesort of foolishness that you have start

 
 

 

 

| euéupon. Did you think that you could play off as Joseph

Gentry and not get nipped?”’ \
| “Thave played off that way for several days and I am

“not very badly nipped yet.”’

“Perhaps not, but the trouble is coming onto you. I

ean see the symptoms, and you are losing ground pretty
fast. Do you object to telling why you were so anxious to
get hold of another thousand dollars of cash?’’

“T rather ebject to telling.”’

“De you object to telling whether you know anything
about one Ferd Armstrong, who has started out to play a
high-roller game and who is trying to scoop in the new

bonanza that doesn’t belong to him?”’
This query was put very deliberately, and the eyes of
Gentleman Joe searched the face before him with a keen-
“ness that seemed to look into the man’s very soul.
Silver Steele shrugged his shoulders slightly, and a faint
shadow crossed his face.
The sign was a slight one, yet it was enough to tell
Gentleman Joe that he had hit upon a hint of the truth.
' The game which Silver Steele was playing was not a
lone ene—he hada partner in the person of Ferd Arm-
strong, the claimant of the mines of Hard-pan.
' This, indeed, accounted in a measure for Silver Steele’s
attempt to get hold of a considerable amount of cash
within a limited time.
_ Whether the money was to be used for the purchase or
not, it was certainly intended by means of it to hold what
_ had been seized.
- This was not all.
The bold stroke of Silver Steele having crippled tempo-
arily the finances of Gentleman Joe, had at the same
time made it impossible for Walter Wayne to borrow the
cash which he required.

In other words, it had cut the sinews with which the
young Hotspur was to make war against Ferd Armstrong
for the bonanza at Hard-pan.

Had not Silver Steele struck his blow at the time that
he did, Walter Wayne would have obtained the money and
ere this have nearly arrived at his mining camp, and it
would have been too late for Ferd Armstrong to play the

 

 
  

first cards in his game.

 
 

pretenses, to say nothing of forging checks in his name,

 

‘The proof of this would have been sufficiently strong tp

 

have made the case a serious one for Silver Steele.
Yet Gentleman Joe was by no means satisfied.

  

That the man was working upon a deeper game—thap 1
these things which he had done were only cards played inp
agame the whole significance of which as yet was

 
 
 

secret, Joseph Gentry did not doubt.

 

Gentleman Joe had no doubt, either, that under thip
present conditions he could makea capture of the imp

 
 

postor.

 

=

Even if the two in a hand-to-hand encounter shoul |
prove equally well matched, it was certain enough thie
old man Joyce would bring the officers to the spot while

 
  

they were engaged in their struggle.
Jared Joyce had no reason to like the stranger sport.

  
 

The threat to twist his neck was not a pleasant one, ani ;
the most disagreeable part of it was that it was not im
threat alone. Silver Steele would have executed it withoue

 
 
 

a doubt if he had not been interrupted just as he was.

 

On the other hand Joseph Gentry had in more wap .

 

than one proved an aid to the old man.

   

Indeed, Jared Joyce, miserly, untidy, dissipated thougit®
he was, was in a sense one of the warmest friends of thi
Gilt-Edged Sport. Gentleman Joe was one of those mee
who make friends everywhere and among all classes dp

    
   
 
 
 

 

people.

 
  

It made no difference to him whether a man was if
Chinaman,or a negro or a thorough-born American. Hie
found something in all, except in ‘out-and-out criminalg

    

which was in a measure worthy.

 

Therefore if Silver Steele had only played a few prelim)
inary tricks in a deeper game, it would be desirable to gap

 
 

more facts in the case before his lips were sealed.

 

There could be no doubt but that Silver Steele woullf
eover his tracks as carefully as possible and that if If
were captured and brought to trial he would confess nothy

 

    

Gentleman Joe had all the proof he needed of Silva ;
Steele’s successful attempts to obtain money under falsp

eas

=e

  

 
 
 

 

" ing, and the whole burden of the proof against him would
' have to be brought out by his accusers.

Gentleman Joe had dealt with this sort of men before.

He knew how hard it was to get them into a corner
yen if they were arrested under a criminal charge.

“Well,’? said Silver Steele, after a brief interval of
ilence during which the men had surveyed each other as
f they were having their measures taken for the coming
truggle. ‘‘What are you going to do? I want to get out
fhere—I am caught, and if you don’t let me go I'll have
0 fight for it. I suppose the odds are against me since old
oyce would as lief stick a knife in my back while you
were keeping me engaged in front as not. But I can’t help
hat. Itisn’t my style to cave when there are only two
against me. If the room was full of men like you it might
be that I would talk about terms. As it is all I can say 1s
hat I want to get out of here—and that in short measure.’’

“After the long chase I’ve had do you expect me to give
up the advantage I have gained?’’ Gentry asked.

“No, I don’t hardly expect it. But I would like to get
your terms just the same.”’

“T’1] name them.”’

“What are they?”’

“A straight surrender on the spot, and with no re-
serve.”

“And that is all?”’

“All to begin with.”

‘What do you mean by that?”’

_“T mean that you are to yield yourself a prisoner with-
out even a kick and then I’ll give the real terms which
might, if you can give a clean bill of health, work to your
advantage in the end.”’

“Tn other words, I’m to let you deal and hold my hand
at the same time?”’

“There’s no call for any argument on the question. I
have the reputation of dealing squarely, and as I hold all
- the trumps in the present game, you may count it lucky
f iflallow you any sort of a show. And now I’m about it,
| Imight as well say that the time for talk is up. And now
f —up with your digits!”

 
   

As this order slipped smoothly from the lips of Gentle
man Joe the hand of the latter easily fell upon the butt df
a revolver and whipped the weapon up to a level.

Silver Steele compressed his lips and contracted hig
brows. His hands, hanging loosely at his side, did nof
shift their position.

Could it be that this audacious man actually intended t
put the threat of his enemy to the test? Would he refusg
to obey the command so grimly emphasized?

The keen eyes of Jared Joyce watched the faces of th
two men with an alertness and eagerness which indicate
the vividness of his interest in the outcome.

Whether or not the miser would have offered to inte
‘fere if not called upon was a question which even hi

might not have been able to answer on the instant.
In the moment when Silver Steele had found himsél

confronted by Joseph Gentry he had felt that fight i

liberty would surely fail.
He knew that Gentleman Joe would prove to be at leas

a fair match for him in a hand-to-hand encounter, alg
that Jared Joyce would call officers to the room to maki

his capture sure.

In other words Silver Steele had made up his mind tp
stand the test of capture by the police and a court examg
ination and perhaps in the end of facing a judge and jung

There he would use at some -point of the legal test tlt
rare nerve with which he was endowed in an efforti
avert the consequences of his crooked conduct.

In a flash had Silver Steele surveyed the whole coumsg

| lattent

| while

 

of that gantlet which he would have to run,
To himself he had said that other men had escaped tit
consequences of a crime even after they were broughtig

trial for it. If other men could do that with less nervy

than he possessed, why should he give up simply becaus
he found himself temporarily behind an iron grating?
It was so that Silver Steele had reasoned when he foul
himself confronted by Joseph Gentry.
Yet he did not by any means relish the prospect.
Slowly, deliberately, Gentry’s double raised both handij
saying, in an unconcerned voice, as he did so:

 

| be wid
| thes w

‘You hold the drop, and I’m not quite ready yet to lm

  

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 

you w
preset)
& pris

In
his l¢

Noi
gone

$0 Ad
prisopy
a }

who, ip
past: ¢
Thip
the oft
Hele
capta)
in thi)
mand
Gell
that his
cy Be
asker P
you ‘fill
macdé
a b
tain jr
Sillipr
worchic
Tt |B
Bed jr
ingssuiv
sp: d
my Tir

 

 

cow r
smili! :

 
 

 

   

 

 

   

you use it. As a mere matter of form, I'll surrender my
present liberty, and see what sort of use you will-make of
a prisoner. ”’

Tn obedience to a sign from Gentry, Jared Joyce writhed
his lean body toward the prisoner and deftly relieved the
latter of what weapons were discoverable upon his person.

Not a word was spoken while this programme was being
gone through with. Nor did Silver Steele remonstrate
while Gentry made him secure hand and foot.

“Allof which is done without telling why,’’ said the
prisoner, when he found himself absolutely helpless.

“Merely asa matter of sparing the feelings of a man
who, as I take it, has good reason to be sensitive about his
past record,’’ was the swift retort of his captor.

The eyes of Silver Steele were bent searchingly upon
the countenance of the Gilt-Edged Sport.

He seemed to have a burning curiosity to learn what his
captor knew or suspected concerning him. He regretted
inthat moment having surrendered without having de-
manded that the other should make a specific charge.

Gentleman Joe seemed to read the thought which was at
that instant controlling the mind of his prisoner.

“Do you want me to give it to you straight?’ Gentry
asked, as the eyes of the two men met.

“Ves, And then—but no. Go on—I’ll hear the charges;
you will have achance to see by my face that you have
made a fool of yourself.”’

“To begin, then, how about Ferd Armstrong and a cer-
tain den of counterfeiters hidden in this city?”’

Silver Steele started visibly. It was evident that the
words came as a shock to him.

It was something which he had not expected.

Before he could fairly turn the remark in all its bear-
ings over in his mind Gentleman Joe spoke again.

“And the money that you obtained from the banks in
my name was paid over to this same Ferd Armstrong to
be used in the case of the Armstrong & Wayne claims at
the new mining bonanza called Hard-pan.”’

hay good,’’ retorted Silver Steele, with his audacious
smile.
And he waited for the other to proceed with increag —_
expectancy. ‘‘How about a certain: escaped convict wh in|
about two years ago, led a posse of officers a wild mow Ge
tain chase away from the city of Pueblo—a horsebag i ovdi
chase which was one of the most exciting and nervy eq ha.
recorded ?”’ The

Low and smooth were the tones of Gentleman Joe asp ees
uttered these words. Sneed

Silver Steele was showing his teeth, but those tet foo rs |
were shut tight. | Nott

He made no response. Bad

‘“‘And as for this name of this convict who did sud eft tl
nervy deed, by a, strange coincidence, it bore a queer se No |
of resemblance to yours. It was Steele Stanford.’’ eyes

“It is false,’ came back from the lips of the prisong Flaim
like a bolt out of a gun. uyg

“And, asa mere matter of information,” Gentry we T told
on, without hardly a pause, ‘‘was it you or your cont Bone! ;
partner, Jack Joseph, who puta knife into the warden ‘over 4
the jail from which you escaped on the twenty-fourth d that d
of April, now nearly two years ago?”’ ;

Silver Steele was now breathing hard and his hap
were clinched. F

Jared Joyce had ceased smoking. His eyes were fig
upon: Silver Steele with a breathless eagerness to hi,
what he might say. 5

But no sound escaped the lips of the prisoner.

Gentleman Joe looked more relentless than he had} hen {4
any time since the beginning of the present encounter, more 4

 

He knew now that all his suspicions concerning 'Quicld
prisoner were true, and the realization told him thath Jark
had made a most important capture. He looked ath onvili
watch, and at the same time remembered that, so deep And
absorbed had he become in his investigation of the chifyom |
acter of Silver Steele that he had nearly forgotten anoth The
engagement which must not be skipped. hands!

There was not a moment to lose. : | Thel

He looked keenly at Jared Joyce. Could he trust ‘prom:
latter to see to the safe-keeping of the prisoner for a shiGijyes}
period—perhaps for half an hour? LOotstt|

There seemed to be no other way. But the time migh, Dak

 

 

 

 
 

hi

 

 

 

 

be made very brief indeed, for an officer could be sent in
from the street with but very little delay.

Gentry turned to the miser and in a few whispered
words stated that he must leave the prisoner in his charge
for a brief space.

The old man displayed almost as malignant eagerness to
have the prisoner brought to justice as Gentleman Joe
himself experienced; and for the moment the latter’s

| fears were quieted.

Not a word was spoken in the hearing of Silver Steele,
and the latter looked on in wonder as Gentry hurriedly
left the room.

No sooner had the door closed behind our hero than the
eyes of the prisoner met those of the miser, and he ex-
claimed :

“You love money, old man! ~ And I love liberty. When
ftold Joseph Gentry a minute ago that I had paid the
money which I obtained out of the banks on his name
over to Ferd Armstrong I lied. Ten thousand dollars of
that cash is concealed on my person at this moment.”’

Jared Joyce drew his breath short and sharp.

“Ten thousand dollars—ten thousand dollars!”’ the old
man echoed.

“And it is all yours, and nobody the wiser, if you only
act quick and sure. Break that rope for me—partly cut it
and I’11 do the rest. But first take possession of the cash.
Then let me tie you into your chair in a minute.
Then the work is done, and I am free, while you have
more money than you can gain in a dozen lucky strokes.
Quick, old man! Don’t lose the prize by dallying.”’

Jared Joyce was breathing hard. His hands worked
convulsively, in unison with his brain.

And then he yielded, and the bold suggestion that came
from the lips of Silver Steele was put into execution.

The money, in crisp bank-notes, was clutched in the
hands of the miser, and the prisoner was released.

Then, without stopping to bind Joyce according to the
promise, so that the latter might not fall under suspicion,
Rilver Steele faced about, flung open the door, and his
footsteps were heard retreating along the loose floor of
the passage outside.

           

     

1
5
i

 
  

   

Jared Joyce sprang to his table, glared at the bulky :

 
 
   
  
  

  
 
   

  
  
   
 
  

 
 
     
    

    
 
 
 

Ro
parcels of money, then ran bill after bill through hig wild
fingers. F less

Then a husky cry burst from his lips. | dang
“‘Counterfeit!’’ he fairly yelled. eRe
The miser leaped wildly to the door. But it was lockep a seat
upon him! 4 ae
mean
CHAPTER XIV. at
FLIGHT AND PURSUIT. critic
‘Pull up, old man, and show your passports!’’ SN
The speaker was Gentleman Joe’s double. | these
The scene was a wild mountain trail many miles froip 10 i
the city of Denver where we last met this cool-headip oS,
sport. P
Pele was mounted upon as fine a horse as one might ap your
in a day’s journey. | squat
The animal nevertheless showed signs of wearingp ‘1
while his rider, handsome and princely in bearing as evap 4 ma
looked worn, anxious, and travel-stained. two
The one to whom he addressed the challenge just quote Teasa
was an older man also mounted upon a good horse andatp shou
companied by a tired-looking burro. F one dq
The little anima] was but lightly laden, yet it was om “Ii
dent that a long journey had been taken. | ject,
The elderly man was no other that Roger Reynolds, ip “UI
confidential agent of Mrs. Armstrong and her daughiae other

 

  

Ada. .
He was twenty miles from the camp at Hard-pan. Hie
had not attempted to move at a rapid pace, but within tip —
hours after leaving the camp he had become aware of {hit
startling fact that he was being followed by one of tlip
men whom he had trusted but a short time before asip
guide and attendant. }
He instantly divined that the object of his pursuer wip
anything but a friendly one since it was doubtful if li
would have gotten upon the trail so quickly if not orderip
to do so by Ferd Armstrong himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
   
10M

ded .

1800

OSs, |

vel,

ated |
i ACs

evi.

' the |

iter

He ©

two

the
* the
jas a

i was
ff he
ered

   

 

 

 

   

Roger Reynolds, while not very much accustomed to the
wild life among the mountains and mines, was neverthe-
less one of those men who do not become daunted by
dangers or perils however new or however dire.

Reynolds halted in obedience to the challenge and sent
asearching look into the face of the horseman who was
confronting him.

“Well, stranger, what’s the word? I hope you don’t
mean this for a hold-up?”’

This demand was spoken by Roger Reynolds.

Silver Steele scanned the speaker from head to feet
critically.

“Not exactly a hold-up, partner. That’s out of my line
these days. However on this trip I am making ita point
P require every man I meet to give an account of him-
self.”’

“Do you reckon that you can make every man come to
your terms in the matter?’ Roger Reynolds asked,
squaring his broad shoulders.

“T reckon there hasn’t anybody refused yet. But it isn’t
amatter that we need to get upa quarrel about. When
two travelers meet upon a road and one of them has
reason to be suspicious of every man he meets why
shouldn’t he call for an account? If you had demanded
one of me perhaps I would have been willing to give it. =

“Tf it’s a matter of exchanging compliments I don’t ob-
ject,’”’ said Roger Reynolds.

“Then we'll call it that. Atleast until we know each
other better. Where are you hailing from, partner?”

“From the new camp at Hard-pan.”’

“And whither bound?”’

“To Pueblo.’’

“You have no partners with you?”’

“Nary a partner. I have been going a long way to make
a journey which ought to have been a fairly short and
straight one. But there is all sorts of treachery in these
mountains, and I have had my taste of it.’’

“Partners deserted you?”’

“Yes, and worse than that. But maybe I have told as
much of my story as is due to any stranger. Perhaps it is
 

   

 

  

my turn to call for an account of yourself.”

along the trail over which he had been riding at the beg
speed that his jaded horses‘could keep up.

‘‘Perhaps it is, stranger, but I reckon you'll have toe
cuse me. You see that I have the best of reasons fo
wishing to move on. I take it that ten miles in a straight
line will fetch me to Hard-pan?”’

‘Ten miles on the straightest trail would fetch yo
there; yet I have traveled many more miles than that.”

‘Then I’ll bid you good-day, Mr. Reynolds.”’

Silver Steele touched spurs to his horse, and the animl§

started forward with a swift bound.

Roger Reynolds stared after him with an expressiond®

mute wonderment upon his face.
‘‘How did he get onto my name, I wonder? And whoi

he anyhow? Itseemsasif I had seen a man resemblimg§
him in Denver in the office of one of the mining com®
panies. Let me see now, which one was it. The Silvie

Star—no. The Silver Gulch, and Joseph Gentry was pre

dent of the company—can it be—was that Joseph Gag

try!
Roger Reynolds was a bewildered man.

He had indeed met Joseph Gentry in the office of th®
mining company at Denver once or twice. But he had nig
had sufficient dealings with him to be absolutely sured—

his identity.

Yet as he recalled the face of the President of the Silva
Gulch Mining Company it seemed to Roger Reynolli
that it could be no other than the man whom he had just
met.

it is.”’

In the meantime Silver Steele rode on and on, thougl |

his horse was fast showing signs of giving out.

‘‘Curse the beast! Why need he get tired?’’ rasped Silvap
Steele, as hedug the spurs into the flanks of the tirel)

animal,

Silver Steele smiled slightly and cast a glance bac

 

 

‘But he didn’t speak like Joseph Gentry—and Josepl—
Gentry would never hold a man up in the road in thig
style. Unless Iam mistaken, there is something of ite
cut-throat written on that man’s face, handsome thouglp

 

 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
     

} “But I’ll get all the good there is in him, and then the

‘buzzards may pick his bones for aught thatI care. The

} jorse that can’t keep ahead of my pursuers is of no use to

'meand he might as well go to feed the hungry birds as

_ |} mything else. If I had only had time to take two horses
} instead of one—a led animal would have been fresh and

7 vould have helped me out of this stage of my journey.”’

7 As the fugitive uttered these words the animal was

7} boiling up a steep slope and was nearly at the crest of it.

7 At the top Silver Steele pulled the animal in to give him

7 achance to breathe.

7 At the same time he glanced back over the trail and

‘mother curse burst from his lips.

7 ‘There they are. And almost at my very heels. Halfa

‘Fiozen if there is one—and infernal hounds galloping ahead

i, show them the way.”’

7 It was so.

> 7 Within a mile’s distance and in full sight were half a

7} lozen horsemen riding at a furious pace along the trail in

; | pursuit of the convict-sport.

- # And just ahead of the riders ran several graceful ani-

F nals which unmistakably were hounds.

They had been used to track the fugitive.

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  

FP wraight line and was quite level.

® There was a slight descent and then a chasm over which
Pirie bridge had been thrown.

7 Beyond the gulch the trail wound its way more devi-
# ously and over rougher ground.

7 Silver Steele noted the speed at which his pursuers were
‘} »proaching. Then with another glance which, like that
‘7 an eagle, seemed to take in everything in front of him,
i , a the chasm which he must cross, and the frail
} bridge.

| “If 1 could reach that,’’ he exclaimed, ‘‘I could play a
} bluff which I reckon they wouldn’t care to meet. They
| taven’t got me yet—they mustn’t think they have too
‘ | easy a fox to run down, even if he does limp a little.”
uve! F The cruel spurs again wounded the horse with a sudden-
tived } tossand mercilessness which sent the animal forward

| Justahead of Silver Steele the trail lay in an almost .

 

 

 

 
with a scream of pain.
On he went with a sudden spurt of speed that a momen)
before would have seemed impossible. :
On and on for a hundred yards—then, with a whine anjp
a moan, the animal stumbled, plunged, and Silver Steck
cleared his feet from the stirrups just in time. 7
He did not even vouchsafe a glance at the dying sted}
which had served him so faithfully.

Winchester in hand, the fugitive leaped over the body]
of the horse and with the fleetness of a deer ran alow
toward the chasm which he must cross. t

He had only a few more yards to run to take him to th
bridge. tT

He bent every energy to reach the goal.

At the same instant Silver Steele saw the horsemen ride
round this same angle which a moment before had con®
cealed them. L

They were within easy rifle-shot, and Silver Sted : :

knew then that his very life hung as it were by a hair. §

He leaped upon the bridge, at the same time holdingy®
revolver behind him with the muzzle pointed at the fouy
almost upon him. I

The fugitive reached the other side of the bridge ani
there paused and faced about boldly. t
The pursuers were riding toward the chasm like mad. ¥
A huge bowlder rose upon the very brink of the chasig-
and close to the spot where the end of the bridge restee
Silver Steele quickly sprang behind that, and from hit
place of ambush watched his oncoming foes with a smity
which was as grim as death. E
The pursuers numbered four. One, a dashing youme
fellow, rode several lengths ahead of the others. He hag
his rifle unslung ready for use until within a few yardsip
the chasm. Then he abruptly put the weapon out of sigllf
and spurred his beast on to a desperate spurt of speed. —
As he did so, Silver Steele, throwing himself out fl—
length upon the ground shielding himself behind {ie
bowlder, crept forward, seized hold of the timbers tit
supported that end of the bridge, and by a tremendoiy
effort flung them clear of the rock upon which they restély

 
} Instantly the frail bridge fell with a crash into the

_ chasm.

At the same moment the foremost pursuer was almost
upcn the brink, and he strained every nerve to restrain
7 his horse, but too late.

| Steed and rider made a mad leap out over the chasm!

remota mrsened taEaset

CHAPTER XV.
SANDY TAKES A CASE.

We left Sandy at the close of the eighth chapter ina
situation which for the time did not seem to be wholly to
the credit of his courage.

Yet be it said that the Irish lawyer would never have
hidden himself as he did for the simple purpose of es-
caping from a fight.

Although in that kind of an encounter he was no match
for such a man as Silver Steele, yet it was not his style to
show his heels on that score.

His sole object in crawling under the couch as he had
done was to overhear what might pass. Somehow he had
a feeling that the conversation that he might hear might
disclose something which would be of interest to himself,

For here, in the city of Denver, as everywhere else,
Sandy’s chief aim was to get money.

With all his shrewdness and natural ability and with the
many successes in the way of professional skill, yet it had

® always been Sandy’s luck to be short of cash.

If he made a big strike in one quarter he was sure to
lose the gain of it in another.

Though he never gambled and never invested his money
inany doubtful venture, yet mischances of one kind and
another were always preying upon his capital.

At times when he had thought that an absolute fortune
was in his grasp, the promise would prove to be buta
bubble. But unlike similar fortunes which fell into the
7 hands of others, the bubble always got pricked. before

' Randy got rid of it. i

 

 

 

 
 

  

In the shady sort of legal practics which Sandy yj

most engaged in he found all facts, points, and secrets, ip

 
  

matter to whom they belonged, of use to him.

He had come to the city of Denver with the intentiond
following the same line of practice that had brought hip
for a time good fortune in the city of Chicago, but whith

 
  
 

had had a bad ending for him.

 
  

With the experience there gained he felt that he hip
learned caution and that he might here pursue the samf
tactics and win the fruits without being pricked by tip

 
 

thorns.

 

Thus it was that Sandy found himself in an uncomfot

 

able position as well as a dangerous one.

 

The hand which grasped his ankles attempting to drag
him forth from under the couch were strong ones. Bip
Sandy speedily showed himself to be a kicker of th :

 
 

liveliest description.

While he allowed his legs to appear limp for a momeie

and so throw off his guard the one who was attempting tip
draw him forth, an instant later his legs straightened wiih

  

 
 

a tremendous force and suddenness.

 

His enemy was forced to release his hold and was sélp
back across the room and against the wall with mudg

  

force.

 
 
 

Before Silver Steele could recover himself—for the op
who had seized Sandy was no other than Gentleman Joe i
double—Sandy had wheeled about, sprung from his mp

‘cumbent position, and seated himself coolly on the edgeip
the bed, hands in pockets, with his full-moon face turndp

 
 
 

squarely upon the all-around sport.
Silver Steele recovered his equilibrium, made a moves

 

if to spring again upon Sandy, and then paused in ti :

middle of the room, a faint flush mantling his cheeks.
‘So it is you, is it?’’ Silver Steele exclaimed.

‘‘Me it is, me man—and the spring isn’t all out of m
legs yet. If ye don’t believe it come and get hold of theif
and let me point them toward the window the next timée
shoot. There is pretty near two hundred pounds presstly
behind them feet, me man, so ye want to stand from unde

 

   

  
 

when ye see them coming.”’

=

 
 

  
 

   
 

 

 
   

itn

  

 

 
7 Silver Steele shrugged his shoulders and then glanced
} jurriedly toward the door.
“T didn’t think you would be fool enough to follow me
7 inhere,’’ he exclaimed.
} “I hardly thought that Ishould be myself. But Iam
7 always turning up in some sort of foolery so that I never
7 mow what to expect of meself. Me record in that respect
7 jas been a long and dizzy one and I expect that I am only
“4 half way through it after all.”
“You followed close at my heels, did you?”’
® “Quite close to your heels, but not quite as close as you:
‘were to mine a minute ago.”’
“So I suppose that you heard something just now?”’
q “Nothing to your credit, sir, so you needn’t feel uneasy
Pavoutit. Ifitsa bad record ye are trying to make, it’s
® nothing I have seen or heard that will go against it. -
| “Well, you couldn’t have been here long enough to have
heard very much. I reckon it’s none of my business
whether you stay or go. For my part I would rather that
you would stay.’’ -
Whatever Silver Steele’s original determination might
have been he certainly altered it.
Without another word or even looking at Sandy, he
leaped from the window and a minute more was gone.
Whatever events succeeded in the record of Silver
Stele, Gentleman Joe’s double, the reader already knows
insufficient detail.
After the man had gone from the room Sandy coolly
made a survey of the apartment, made a few mental
7 totes, and was about to withdraw by the same means of
® cxit which he had used in entering, when he was detained
® again by the gound of voices in the adjoining room.
® tItappeared that the woman with whom Silver Steele
7 had been speaking when Sandy entered had gone out of
7 theroom at the same time when Silver Steele left it in the
7 other direction. ;
} Consequently what had passed between Sandy and
4 he Steele had been heard by no other inmate of the
| house.
an door still stood slightly ajar as Silver Steele had
eft it.

 

 

 

 
 

 
  
 

 

   

eS SS

  

able to use for his own interest.
And he was speedily rewarded by hearing words that

thrilled him through and through with excitement and ;

interest.

‘We have got to get out of the city of Denver, Adele~ 7
that man is invincible, and now that we have got him @
against us, he will be sure to squeeze the very life right @ -

out of our business.’’

“Why didn’t I shoot him? I might have done it, and] @
don’t believe I should have got caught either. A pistol @
shot in this room could not be heard in the street, and if it @
were, would attract no attention unless an alarm was @

given, and who is there to give an alarm?”’

The voice, low, sweet, and musical, Sandy recognized as q :
the same one he had heard speaking to Silver Steele a mo. @

ment before.

And it is certain that Sandy was more intensely inter. 4 ;
ested than he had ever been before in anything he had

listened to in his life.

In all his existence Sandy had never heard a speech ue |
tered in such sweet tones with such malignant ferocity ex- 7

pressed in them.

‘It looks very much as if it was a falling out among 1 :

thieves, ’’ was Sandy’s mental comment.

said:

retort.

“Perhaps. Butitisn’t often that a brother and sister %
are both engaged in the sort of dangerous trade that we |
are. We have carried a big secret in our hearts for over& —
year, and we have thriven well. The police have never |
suspected us. They wouldn’t do so now but for one or two F
mischances and the treachery of this man who calls him- §

self Silver Steele. ’’

Once again Sandy decided to take the risk of discovery ;
in the hope of finding out something which he mightho 7

A moment after the other speaker, who was a mal, | 3
‘It would hardly have done to have used a pistol, Adele, |

You are inclined to be hasty, as 1am myself sometimes.” @
“‘Because we are brother and sister, I suppose,’’ was the #

“It was bad luck indeed that gave him an inkling of 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
  
 
  
 
 
  
  
   
  
  
 
  
  
 
 
  
 

‘our secret. To think that he should use that to blackmail
“me into pretending to love him! As if he could think that
ven his handsome face and princely bearing might im-
ress me while he held a threat over my head!”’
The girl called Adele uttered these words in a tone
hich was full of infinite scorn.
“T wish I had seen him just now when hoe was speaking
you as he did.”’
“What would you have done, pray?’’
me should have made an attempt to blacken his eye for
im.’
“You wouldn’t have succeeded if you had. The result
ould probably have been that he would have broken
our head for you. No, Jack, don’t pitch in rashly and
ght my battles. If he had persisted in his persecutions I
ould have taken care of him after a better fashion than
‘that, you may be sure. I am nota weakling, Jack, you
know that.’”’
“T know that, Adele.’’
“Now about getting out of the city. What’s the matter
with our pointing our toes toward that new mining camp
called Hard-pan which Ferd Armstrong expects to get
wholly into his hands? He is in with us up to his boot-
tops, and it may be for his interest as well as for ours for
/ us all to be together. What place could be better than a
‘ew mining camp which has not yet been incorporated as
a town and which one or two men entirely control?”’
“That’s a good idea, Adele. I confess that I hadn't
| thought of it.’’
s & ‘How soon do you think that we could get affairs into
@ shape so we could leave the city safely?”’ ’
r @ £“By to-morrow night.”’ :
» & ‘“Butsome of the traps are hard to coverup. And we
, | have quite a lot of the metal on hand, too—some of it has
* § been under the dies and some that has never been even
) warmed.’’
' Sandy, listening to these words, was not so slow-witted
- that he did not grasp their significance.
- ‘I'll be blessed if I haven’t tumbled into a queer pic-
| nic,’ was Sandy’s mental comment.

   

 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
   
“The best thing to do with what we can’t carry away i
to bury it in the cellar,’’ was the prompt response of Jack

“Even the stuff which has been coined?’’

‘“‘Even the stuff which has been coined. How muc
more is that worth than the stuff which has not even bee
touched? Justa little more labor, Adele. And we are not
poverty stricken. We have made a snug little sum already,
and even if we never did another thing in our lives, w
could afford to go to Hard-pan and sojourn just for ou
health. ”’

“‘T suppose you are right, Jack, but I hate to give up th
business I have been training for so long, and that I hay
fought so long to defend.”’ . 4

“For my part, Adele, I think I should feel better to 9
have it out of my hands. Almost everybody—I may say |
everybody that goes into it gets caught in the end. If 7

they only stopped a little sooner and while they were still 7

safe everything would be well with them. That’s th
thing todo. We are fairly safe now if that snide who has -
just left us doesn’t make too quick use of his cards. We
will invest our savings in the new mining property at
Hard-pan if it proves to be worth it. And we'll set upas
nabobs in the new camp.”’

“‘Just as you say, Jack—only I reckon I should rathe
play the queen in a larger town. I never was much struc
with this howling-wilderness business and being the onl
woman in the camp. But as longasI have a faithful
brother with me I suppose I need not worry.”’ | j

‘‘But Hard-pan may grow and be as big as Denver yet.”

‘‘Or London,’’ retorted Adele, with her short, scornfu
laugh.

In the meanwhile Sandy’s brain was in what might b
aptly called a ferment.

Here he had in his possession a piece of information
which he might go and use and within a short time hav
these precious people under arrest.

Should he do it?

He knew it was the only straight thing to do. Andy
‘ence more there came to Sandy the temptation to use
for the filling of his pockets.

“Twill at least keep their secret for them for a fe

 
  

mena Oo

_B@rdu ed

| days. It was by accident that I tumbled in here and I
7 really have no business to be listening behind their doors.

Ishould hate to come out in court and confess how I got

} ny knowledge. The case will surely come out anyhow—
7 that sort always does. They think they can get to Hard-
7 panand be safe. But if they only knew it, they wouldn’t
7 besafeif they went to the other side of the world, not if
7 they had been counterfeiting money in the name of Uncle
“4 Sam. What is the use in my throwing away a chance of
@ wing some of the money they have got in their hands?
@ They are bound to hire a lawyer one of these days to get
“@ them out of their scrape. He will swallow the biggest
@ part or their fortune for a fee, and he won’t get them out
‘@iither. They might just as well hand me over a liberal
@ retainer and I’11 keep me mouth shut until they find them-
#@ selves in the net and then they will send for me to help
‘@ithem out. I'll make an eloquent plea in their behalf—I’1l
“# «all the attention of the jury to the beauty and sweetness
@ of the young woman and to their fraternal fidelity—such
# ipicture of brotherly and sisterly love as one seldom sees
@ inthis weak world. Oh, I could make an eloquent plea,
@ though I know if the jury were not fools it would do no
good. Then I would get me retainer now and my fee then
@ 2d Jack and Adele—whatever their other names are—
“@ vill be sure to get their deserts at the same time. That’s
@ astraight and plain thing from beginning toend. The
® fates threw the secret in my way—lI always felt that the
@ fates intended me to be independent some day or they
-# would never have given me so many wits. Here goes for
® astarter.”’

Sandy very coolly knocked upon the door, and it wasn’t

@ avery timid knock either.

A faint scream burst from the lips of Adele and a gruff

ejaculation from Jack. In the midst of them Sandy
7 stepped into the room and stood confronting the strangely
7 matched brother and sister.

“T hope ye’ll excuse me, Mr. Jack and Miss Adele, for I

} come to you asafriend in need. I hope that Miss Adele
} willdefer whatever impulse to shoot she may have until
F She knows me better. I’ll admit that ye have a bad case

   
   

 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
  
 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 
on your hands but it’s many a bad case that 1 hag pulle
out of the mire,’

‘““Who the devil are you?’’ demanded Jack,

Adele was locking at Sandy and her glance seemed
look him through and through, and the next instant sh
turned to her brother and said:

‘Listen and I think he’ll tell you all about it. He look
as if he were white clear through, and he may be a frien
in need.’”’

So Sandy was now in a case which made him afraid
look his friend, Gentleman Joe, in the face.

e

CHAPTER XVI.
THE HOTSPUR’S HUSTLE.

“You must give mea minute of time, Mr. Gentry.
don’t care whom you are chasing or why you are _ hasten
ing so, you must give me a few minutes of time.”

‘*Very well, then, Mr. Wayne. What I must doI will
and I don’t suppose there is any putting off a hotspur lik
you when you get started.”’

_ “But I reckon that you would be in as much of a fum
asITamif you were in my shoes!’’ the young man eX
claimed.

} “T suppose I would at your age. But twenty years more
will show you that a good many things that you think
must be done in a minute can be left over a week, and
some of them needn’t be done at all. But never mind—
can’t make an old man of experience of you at twenty
three. It takes vears of experience to do that. Now I hav
no doubt but that it is quite as necessary for me to kee
moving at the present time as itis for you and that m}
business is just as urgentas yours. Still I am goingt
stop and listen to your yarn and maybe I’ll drop my chas
and take up yours. It would be just like me to do it.”

“Your blood is cooler than mine, Mr. Gentry, that
fact. But I won't detain you long.”

| The reader may be surprised to find Walter Wayne at

 
 

1 liberty and on the street hieing toward the office of the
bo t oo Gulch Mining Company with Gentleman Joe him-
| self.
16° 4% #@©6Wewill not here explain in detail how he gained his
| liberty so quickly.
BS 4 §@6Inbrief it may be said that upon holding a talk with
d @ Adele he found that his own enemy, Ferd Armstrong, had

4 been connected with them in their counterfeiting.

4 Barely an hour before Walter Wayne found that gold
-@ eagle on the steps and so had his suspicions aroused, Jack
@ and Adele received a note which had been left in the city
@ to be delivered to them.

@ The note was from Ferd Armstrong.

It had coolly invited them to count him out in all their

| future transactions.

' In other words he very coolly washed his hands of the
# counterfeiting business out of which he had made con-
4 “siderable profits while they had taken most of the risks.

4 Now that he had the scheme of getting possession of the
new bonanza at Hard-pan it was his purpose to leave the
city of Denver permanently and to abandon the dangerous
business in which he had been engaged with them.

The note which had,been addressed to them was couched
insuch language as to arouse the fiercest resentment in
i ® the heart of Adele.

Her brother took it no less oe ty though he was

_ less impetuous in his expressions.

4 While Walter Wayne was explaining to him his errand
® in that part of the city, he incidentally mentioned the
@ name of Ferd Armstrong.

ets

 

4 The instant that they understood that Armstrong was
89 working as a foo against Walter Wayne, Adele instantly
iE # conceived an impulse to set the man at liberty without
7 even a pledge of secrecy on his part.

to + She had impulsively declared that any man who desired
@ 7 tostrike out Ferd Armstrong was a friend of hers—that

' shecared not what he might say or do if he would only
a } join them in the issue against the treacherous fellow who

‘ ' had so lately been their ally.
a But Jack counseled more prudent action.

  

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
    
   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
The result of it all was that Walter Wayne promised in
his impulsive fashion not to disclose for the time at least
what he had discovered concerning these people. Despite
the fact that they were engaged in this crooked business
there was something about them which he could not help
liking.

Impetuous as they were, there was a generous impulse
in their natures which Walter Wayne could but admire.

He did not realize for the moment that he was promising —
to shield criminals from justice.

He only felt that he was simply refraining from med-
dling with a matter which was in reality none of his busi
ness. :

Upon the strength of this semi-pledge Walter Wayn
was allowed to go from the house freely.

Ten minutes later he had entered the dwelling of the -
Armstrongs and held a conference with them.

He came near lingering too long there, for he found
Miss Ada such a charming personage that time passed
more rapidly than he realized.

He was now apprised unquestionably of the fact that
Ferd Armstrong had gone to the new camp at Hard-pan
and that he must have arrived at the spot.

This information revived all his old eagerness to return
to the camp, and to go prepared in the way of cash to buy
the claim outright of the Armstrongs from Roger Rey-

_ nolds, their agent, provided the latter was still upon the
grounds.

So it was that he again found himself in the company of

Gentleman Joe and that the two hurried along toward the 4

latter’s office to confer over the matter.

‘“You think there is a chance of your getting hold of the
property if you only had the cash to do it with?’’ Gent
man Joe asked, after the young Hotspur had stated his
case.

“There is at leasta chance. Mrs. Armstrong and her
daughter are ready to dispose of their claim. They have
placed the matter wholly in the hands of a trusted agent,
and really the business cannot be done properly except
upon the grounds since a survey of the property must be
made by the agert himself.”’

 
  

' “Then you want to be on your wey to the new camp
7 with the cash?’’

| “That’s what I want to do.”’
> “You say you think that young Armstrong is already
7 there.”’
4 © 6“‘He certainly left this city for that destination. I have
7 found out to-day certain facts concerning him that make
q him out even worse than I thought.”’

s ‘How is that?’’

‘He is involved in certain criminal transactions in this
city. But that is something that perhaps I had better say
nothing about at present.’”’

Walter Wayne spoke these last words hurriedly, real-
izing that he was in danger of exposing Jack and Adele if
he were to speak too freely to his friend on the subject.

“You say Ferd Armstrong is engaged in crime in this
city?’’ Gentleman Joe quickly asked.

‘Possibly not exactly that,’’ the young man hastily an-
swered.

His manner showed such evasion that the quick sus-
vicions of Gentleman Joe were instantly aroused.

“Out with the truth, young man, or Ill throw you
overboard—I deal with nobody who can’t deal square. A
square deal makes a square man, and that’s the only sort
I'll play with any time.’

Gentleman Joe spoke sternly.

“Of course I want to deal square, Mr. Gentry. The only
-@ trouble is that I didn’t intend to speak of this matter. I
@ am always saying more than the case requires.”’
= ‘if it is a matter that has no importance, then you
@ needn’t say anything about it. But if Ferd Armstrong is
@ engaged in any kind of crime and you know it, you have

' no right to keep silent aboutit. You have no right to keep

silent about a crime that any man or any woman, for that
matter, has done if you know of it. The moment that you
7 agree tacitly or otherwise to keep a guilty secret you be-

— comea partner to the crime. No other code of morals in

f the land is a safe one for a young man to start out to live

ES by. Bae:

_ The eyes of Joseph Gentry were fixed upon the face of
Walter Wayne.

qi

Bi
a |
a
D

 

 

    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    

 

    
The face of the young man fiushed and his eyes
dropped.

“T know that what you say is true, Mr. Gentry. Iam
glad you said it for I like to hear the truth even if it can’t
always be pleasant.’’

‘“‘That’s good, young man. And now that I have given
vou a measure to go by, I will trust you to fill itup. Re.
member that I will make no use of any secret of yours or
that of anybody else except in the cause of justice. Only
I cannot myself become a party toany criminal trans-
action nor canI lend money or in any other way assist any-
body who has become a party to such an affair.”’

‘*T will not ask you to do so. I have made no pledge, at
least not in words. Ill tell you the whole truth.’’

The young Hotspur from Hard-pan told his story of his
experiences with the young man and woman known to
him only by the names of Jack and Adele.

Gentleman Joe listened without a show of excitement,
though it was evident that he was deeply interested.

‘*You have simply let a little light in on a subject which
I had already in hand,’’ said Gentleman Joe, when the
other had finished.

‘“‘Then you were suspicious of the place?”’

‘‘T had just obtained from Jared Joyce, a crafty old
miser and money-lender who knows about all the affairs
that happen about town whether crooked or straight, all
the details I needed concerning these people whom you
call Jack and Adele. I had their location and a number
of other facts concerning them. As you say there are cer-
tain good qualities about them which make them more
dangerous as friends than they would be if they were full
of unmitigated wickedness.

‘*But they are in crooked business just the same, and
they have got to be pulled up short. But I’ll see that you
are not mixed upinit. There is eivdence enough without
yours to convict them, and so they sha’n’t know that you
have ever lisped a word about it.’’

A few words more were exchanged, and then Walter
Wayne asked:

“But what about my having the money? Do you think

sO: | SEY RT

 

 

 
 

 

 

Vitis worth while for me to take the money and go to
} Hard-pan?”’

 

  

“Tthink it is worth while, but I don’t think that you
had better take eight thousand dollars or eight thousand

} cents for that matter, and go on the journey alone to your
7 camp, and there to meet such a character as Ferd Arm-

strong.”’

‘What do you advise, then?”’

“Tadvise you to join my little party which is going in
pursuit of Silver Steele. JI have the men all chosen, and
they are already on the road. There were some matters

7 here that I must have attended to and so I could not leave
-as soon as they did, but there isn’t much doubt about our

catching up with them, for one or two horsemen can
travel faster than half a dozen, and they haven’t many

® hours the start. From the best information which I can
4 obtain this Silver Steele, who has been playing high-jinks
4 with my name here in Denver, and with my face, too, for
® that matter, is steering his toes toward the very locality
-¥ where your mining claims are situated.

‘In any case the chase will take him somewhere near

4 that spot, and asI happen to know that he is connected

4 with your particular enemy, Ferd Armstrong, I have an

7 idea that he has ir mind the camp at Hard-pan for a des-
| tination—or at least for temporary one.’’

“Then we'll go together!’’ Walter Wayne exclaimed.

“We'll go together, so get a horse at Pueblo, for that
is where we strike onto the road. From here to there we
must go by rail, and the train starts in three-quarters of
an hour, so you see why I was in a hurry.”’

‘‘And yet you stopped to talk with me! If I could only
ever hope to become as cool and resourceful as you are,

| Mr, Gentry !”’

“T started as a hotspur myself, Mr. Wayne, so don’t

| despair. And now fora good chase and a pistol-picnic at

Hard-pan!’’

  
CHAPTER XVII.
CONCLUSION.

Silver Steele, the escaped convict, the man who had —
played such a cool and nervy game in the city of Denver —
against Joseph Gentry, was making the nerviest fight of
his career for his own liberty.

Crouching behind the rock, from the vantage point —
where he had so deftly demolished the frail bridge, he saw
the horse and the courageous rider make that mad plunge
out over the chasm. a

The rider, seeing that the bridge was gone and that it
was too late to stop, had almost at the very brink put |
spurs to the horse in the hope that the animal might, by
a spasmodic effort, span the chasm in the leap.

It was a vain hope.

The horse was jaded with his long journey, and besides,
he was no more than an ordinary animal.

For a second it looked as if the leap would be successful.

' The iron-shod hoofs of the steed struck upon the pro-
jecting edge of the chasm upon the other side—struck
there, striking fire from the flinty rocks, seeming to cling
for a moment, and then to fall back with his rider down
into the depths and upon the rocks below!

‘*He was a fool to try it,’’ said Silver Steele, from his
place of concealment.

‘But young men are mostly fools, for they think they
can do what older men would never dare to do. This tests
the width of the chasm and proves that they cannot cross
it until they can make a bridge, and there is no timber
near with which to build a crossing.

“‘This gives me just the start I need. That leap tested it
and I was bound to wait and see whether it would be
possible for them to cross or not.

‘‘Now I'll go and they will find it dizzy business to
catch me after the fresh start I have had, and there area
thousand hiding-places in these hills where thev could not
find me no matter how close they might search. And as
for their dogs—dead dogs can’t follow a scent.”’

Cool, confident, and audacious was the fugitive as ie
uttered these words.

b He saw the other horsemen draw up on the other side of

 
e chasm and look in horror at the spot where their com-
rade had disappeared.

He saw that they were holding a consultation, and it
was evident that they were in doubt as to what to do.

As Silver Steele lingered to observe them, held by a
species of audacious impulse to keep near his foes, he was
half impelled to send a shot across just to show them what
was the true mettle of the game they had come after.

Suddenly around the angle of the trail just beyond the
spot where the other pursuers had halted came two other
horsemen riding at a rapid pace.

One led the way by a length.

Instantly the expression of Silver Steele’s face changed.

“Joseph Gentry! so he has followed me here! And that
party is his, after all! Ill give him a shot and then I’ll
seek a burrow, for they say that he’s aman that bullets
won’t kill.”’

Silver Steele flung up his Winchester, took deliberate
aim at the oncoming horseman, whom he hated above all
men, and fired.

Had he aimed at the horse it might have been well for
him.

Instead he drew bead upon the rider. And as if to test
the remark which he had just made, Gentleman Joe
seemed to be untouched by the bullet.

It seemed to be true that the bullet had not yet been
molded which could draw the life out of the Gilt-Edged
Sport.

Gentleman Joe slackened his pace somewhat as he ap-
proached the party which had halted.

In loud tones they warned him of the absence of the
bridge and of the fate of their comrade, at the same time
apprising him that the game was hiding upon the other
side.

The bullet from Silver Steele’s rifle had already told
Gentleman Joe so much.

Not a word passed his lips. With his eye he measured
the distance across the chasm, and at the same time in.
‘Sstinctively glanced down at the clean, springy limbs of
e steed under him.

 
_ At Pueblo he had purchased two of the best horses to be
found for his own use. One he had ridden until within a
mile of this spot. Then he had mounted the other one,
which was the better of the two.

Therefore the animal under him had carried no burden
and having been recently watered and fed, was in the best
possible condition.

‘*T have skipped across a wider leap than that,’’ he mut-
tered. ‘‘This horse has been trained to the business and
sohavel. What do I want of a bridge if I am only
mounted on an animal that can fly?”’

As he muttered these words his spurs sought the flanks

of the horse, and the animal felt the bit in his mouth.

The steed seemed to know what was needed of him.

There was a swift forward spring, then another and
another as if the animal were gathering momentum for
the final leap.

The very brink was reached—and a hoarse chorus of
shouts full of warning and dismay came up from the men
who were watching the feat.

Up and outward flew the magnificent steed with the
cool and handsome rider describing a full are over the
chasm and landing with four feet close together on the
opposite side, fully two feet beyond the brink.

There was a chorus of yells of admiration and amaze-

“jaent from the other pursuers as they witnessed their

leader’s success.

But he did not so much as cast a backward glance.

He had not a thought for their admiration—his only
thought was for the game which he knew he had almost
in his grasp.

Even at that moment he saw Silver Steele leaping from
rock to rock in a mad attempt to find a place of conceal-
ment.

A few more leaps of the splendid animal, and Gentleman
Joe found himself fairly upon the fugitive.

A jerk at the bit, and then Gentleman Joe’s feet cleared
the stirrups, and he made a spring directly upon his prey.

The latter had turned at the last minute, revolver in
hand, and a blaze of fire burst from the muzzle of the
weapon seemingly into the very face of his pursuer

 

ps pe See SS ala aM

 

 

 

 
But Gentleman Joe was prepared for this, and the hand
which had aimed the weapon had lost its steadiness.

An instant later and the revolver was sent spinning
through the air and the two men grappled.

But it was an uneven grapple. Gentleman Joe had never
been in better condition in his life, while Silver Steele had
become almost paralyzed as he comprehended th certainty
of his capture.
 Hewasthrown back upon the rocks, and the hand of

his assailant was clutching his throat, while the muzzle of
a revolver pressed his temple.

“Shall I push out the lead, or will you cave?”’
4% ina low, steady voice these words slipped from the lips

of Gentleman Joe.

“T suppose that I’m caught as I have been caught once
before, As I escaped once before it may be that I can es-
cape now. Otherwise I would rather take the lead now.’’

“Very well, then—up with your hands! I had rather
have my captive alive, especially since it is well worth
my powder.”’

Long before Gentleman Joe’s companions could impro-
vise a bridge across the chasm, Silver Steele had been
made secure as a prisoner.

Two of the men took the prisoner back to Pueblo where
they arrived before nightfall.

In the meantime Walter Wayne and Gentleman Joe ac-
companied by the other men of their party, pushed on to
their camp at Hard-pan.

In their journey in pursuit of Silver Steele they had met
Roger Reynolds just outside the city of Pueblo.

A brief conference had been held with him there and he
agreed to follow them back to Hard-pan as soon as he
could obtain fresh horses and two or three trusty men as
attendants.

Walter Wayne having obtained from Jack and Adele
sufficient information against Ferd Armstrong, Gentleman
Joe came empowered to arrest this man as a member of
the little counterfeiting gang in the city of Denver.

As soon as the little party arrived at Hard-pan, Ferd
Armstrong coolly showed himself and it was evident that

 
 

 

 

 

he did not realize the real danger that menaced him.

He merely thought that Wayne had come to claim his
ewn, and for this sort of a strike Armstrong was prepared.

But to his unspeakable dismay the instant that he
stepped forth from his tent, Gentleman Joe covered him
with a revolver, at the same time uttering the familiar
command:

‘‘Hands up, or r’ 11 perforate your brain-pan! In the
name of the United States Government, young fellow—and
there is no greater name than that under the sun!”’

Ferd Armstrong recoiled, and his hand fell to the butt
of a revolver at his belt, while a muttered oath fell from
his lips.

But the ominous click of Joseph Gentry’s weapon
warned him that this was no time for fooling.

His hands were thrown up in token of surrender.

The other men in the camp who had _ been engaged to
support the claims of Ferd Armstrong would have made a
faint show of resistance but for the speedy surrender of
their leader.

At the same time, as soon as they were apprised of the
charge against Armstrong and the authority of the man
who was arresting him, they had no nerve left which they
could have used in fighting a battle which they would
surely have lost.

Five minutes later, Ferd Armstrong was under guard in
the very tent which he had occupied in freedom buta
short time before.

Walter Wayne held a brief conference with him or
attempted todo so, for Armstrong was in no mood for
talk.

Roger Reynolds arrived at the camp afew hours later.
The next day a survey was made, and Walter Wayne be-
came the possessor of his late partner’s share in the new
bonanza.

Gentleman Joe and Roger Reynolds, with two of the
men, returned to Pueblo and later to Denver with their
prisoner.

For Silver Steele no trial was needed.

The fact that he was an escaped convict, a fact which

Sn aaa

 

 
 

was easily proved, sent him back to the prison from
which he had escaped several months before.

This time his chances for escape were very small even if
that was the entire penalty which he was likely to receive.

Yet as it was easily proven that he was connected with
the death of one or two of the officers who had gone on
his trail a yet more severe fate seemed to wait for him.

But such scenes are not pleasant to write about, nor, as
I believe, are they pleasing to our readers.

Ferd Armstrong and Jack, for the latter was captured
in the city by the local police, were both put on trial, and
it is hard to escape the severe penalties which Uncle Sam
imposes for such wrong-doing as counterfeiting.

But Adele slipped through the hands of the police in
some unaccountable way and all attempts to find her were
futile.

Sandy did what he could to defend Jack, but be it said
that he used no dishonorable means in this instance, nor
did he get as big a fee as anticipated.

Yet Gentleman Joe suspected thatg Sandy knew more
about the escape of Adele than he cared to admit.

The mines at Hard-pan, though not proving to be quite
the bonanza that Walter Wayne had hoped, were never-
theless a very profitable investment, and the young man
is fast becoming rich from his property.

Roger Reynolds entered into partnership with him, and
the two spent their time partly at Hard-pan and partly at
Pueblo and Denver.

That Mrs. Armstrong and Ada should feel an interest in
the mining camp at Hard-pan, even though they had dis-
posed of their share of it, was but natural. Perhaps it was
yet more natural that Walter Wayne should feel an in-
terest in Ada Armstrong.

It speedily appeared that he thought more of the young
lady than he did of his mines since he spent rather more
time at Denver than he did at Hard-pan.

.“There’s only one way out of it, my boy,’’ counseled
Joseph Gentry, ‘‘and that is for you and the young lady
to get married like other sensible people and settle down
to the serious business of life. Marry the girl, Walter, and

 
  

take her to Hard-pan, and then stick to your business and
be happy at the same time.”’

This settled it.

And Gentleman Joe stood up as ‘‘best man,’ while
Sandy, with a broad expanse of shirt-front and more dig-
nity than he had ever assumed in any court-room, gave 2
away the bride.

The camp at Hard-pan is a camp no longer but a thriv- i
ing town, and Walter Wayne is the leading magnate of eS
the place. And norich man ever had a more beautiful
wife than he has.

Down in Denver Jared Joyce still sat in his dusty, cob-
webby room, smoking his pipe, drinking from his black
bottle, and scheming to add to his hoard of dollars.

Gentleman Joe for a time had business enough to keep
him almost constantly engaged in the city of Denver.

Then he made a tour through the variou mining towns
in which he was interested, and in that tour he became
involved in yet another train of curious and exciting
events.

So in Denver and out of it we may hope to see our Gilt-
Edged Sport again.

 

 

 

(THE END.)

 

 

 
 

2 DID YOU EVER HEAR THE LIKE?

OLIVER OPTIC’S
BEST BOOKS......

AT TEN CENTS EACH
IN STREET & SMITH’S

| MEDAL LIBRARY.

This is our latest sensation. We are always

@ trying to do something to make it interesting for
7 theboys. Get a copy of this, our new leader.

|
|
|

Other good stories in the line also. A new
one every week.

 

For sale by all newsdealers everywhere or sent by mail,
postpaid, on receipt of price by

STREET & SMITH, Publishers,
NEW YORK.

 
   
   
   
     

pes G STORIES

OF THE

<ws_W AR WITH SPAIN

 

By eye-witnesses of the principal battles on
sea and land.

FOUND ONLY IN

Street 8% Smith’s Columbia Library.

J2mo. Copyright Novels at 10 Cents each. t

EXAMINE THIS LIST.

. The Yankee Lieutenant. By Douglas Wells.
. The Fighting Squadron. By Ensign Clarke Fitch, U.S. N.
. A Courier to Gomez. By Douglas Wells.
. A Prisoner of Morro. By Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N.
. A Secret Service Detail. By Douglas Wells.
. Court-Martialed. By Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N.
. On the Firing Line. By Douglas Wells.
. Saved by the Enemy. By Ensign Clarke Fitch, U. S. N.
. For Spanish Gold. By Douglas Wells.
. A Gauntless of Fire. By Ensign Clarke Fitch, U.S. N.
. Holding the Fort. (Issued March 4th).
By Ensign Clarke Fitch, U.S. N.

For sale by newsdealers everywhere. Sent by mail
postpaid, on receipt of price by the publishers.

STREET & SMITE, New York.

 

= OS COI AMAW DN =

   

Cae co

      
     
 

Sea i eS NE aS IRN NO GE TS EE EAE aS Ses SC AOE

  
 

: $69000090400000000000000000000000000000065

Che Old Reliable,

OR cece mare

NIGK GARTER WEEKLY,

Is the warmest baby in the bunch when it comes to
detective stories, 3%. .3% 2% hh ee ee he

ALWAYS UP TO DATE, AND A LITTLE BEYOND.

 

Carter, the greatest detective that ever lived, get the
NICK CARTER WEEKLY.

5 CENTS A COPY.

4
4
“
<
4
€
<
4
4
<
<
<
<
¢
————— <
€
<
4
4
<
q
q
<
<
4
<
<
4
4
<

 

For sale by all newsdealers everywhere or sent by
mail, postpaid, on receipt of price by

STREET & SMITH, Publishers,

@
e
;
:
g
;
3 If you want to read of the methods of Nick
@
$
e
®
3
$
®
©
@
>
3
:
$ NEW YORK.

   

 

 

 

 
BO0€6666028 62SEC CEECCEEECE

USEFUL BOOKS OF INFORMATION.

Any of the following valuable and accurate hand-
books will be sent by mail postpaid to any address on
receipt of Ten Cents in coin or postage stamps. Look
over the list and see if there is not something you need,
Herman’s Black Art

Mills’ Universal Letter Writer

The Complete Angler
Amateur’s Manual of Photography
How to Do Business
The Young Gymnast
The Hunter and Angler -
Napoleon’s Book of Fate

 

Everyday Cook Book
Dunn’s Fencing Instructor
Prof. luldoon’s Wrestling
Complete Training Guide for
Amateur and Professional Athletes
Poe’s Football
Heiler’s Hand Book of Magic
Zola’s Dream Book -
People’s Reference Book

 

 

 

ADDRESS

STREET & SMITH,

232 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK.

(MANUAL LIBRARY DEPARTMENT.)
SSCSCSSESSESCSSCOCECECCECEFOE

 
   

  
  
   
    
   
   
      
   

SOME OF YOUR FAVORITE HEROES.

FRANK MERRIWELL.
DIAMOND DICK, JR.

CLIF FARADAY.
CADET CAREY.

a NICK CARTER.
i GENTLEMAN JOE. ®

DID YOU EVER HEAR OF ANY OF THE ABOVE?

Do you know that every story ever written about any of the
above favorites is copyrighted by and the exclusive property of
STREET & SMITH, the publishers?

YOU CANNOT GET THESE STORIES UNLESS YOU GET
STREET & SMITH'S EDITIONS.

   

 

 

That's why the boys like us so well—we are giving them
the reading they. want. If your newsdealer does not
handle all of our lines, and refuses to do so, you can send
the price to us, and get the books desired by return mail,

STREET & SMITH, Pustishers,

NEW YORK.
SOVVSVSSTCEVSIOFESOS

 
   

  
  
 
   
  
  
  
  
    
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
   
  
    
  
 

Good Reading .«. Popular Stories

Special attention is called to Street & Smith’s QUARTERLY
ISSUES of various publications.

Each one of these Quarterlies consist of thirteen issues of the popular 4
weeklies of the same naine, including the thirteen colored illustrations es
and thirteen complete stories. The popularity of these publications has i
caused a great demand for back numbers, and the Quarterly form pre- ce

sents the best method of supplying this call, as the stories are in con-
secutive order and bound in convenient form for preservation, and sell at
less price than the separate numbers would cost.

Retail Price, 50 Cents, By Mail, Post-paid.
NOW READY:

Tip Top Quarterly, No 1, embracing Nos. 1 to 13 of the Tip Top Weekly. ‘|
Tip Top Quarterly, No. 2, embracing Nos. 14 to 26 of the Tip Top Weekly. ‘
Tip Top Quarterly, No. 3, embracing Nos. 27 to 39 of the Tip Lop Weekly,
Tip Top Quarterly, No. 4, embracing Nos. 40 to 52 of the Tip Top Weekly.
Tip Top Quarterly, No. 5, embracing Nos. 53 to 65 of the Tip Top Weekly.
Tip Top Quarterly, No embracing Nos. 66 to 78 of the Tip Top Weekly.
Tip Top Quarterly, No. 7, embracing Nos. 79 to.91 of the Tip Top Weekly.
Tip Top Quarterly, No. 8, embracing Nos. 92 to 104 of the Tip Top Weekly.
Tip Top Quarterly, No. 9, embracing Nos. 105 to 117 of the Tip Top Weekly,
Red, White and Blue Quarterly, No. 1, embracing Nos. 1 to 18,

Red, White and Blue Quarterly, No. 2, embracing Nos. 14 to 26.

Red, White and Blue Quarterly, No. 8, embracing Nos. 27 to 39.

Red, White and Blue Quarterly, No. 4, em:bracing Nos, 40 to 52.

Nick Carter Quarterly No. 1, embracing Nos. 1 to 18 of the N. C. Weekly.
Nick Carter Quarterly, No. 2, embracing Nos. 14 to 26 of the N. C. Weekly.
Nick Carter Quarterly No. 3, embracing Nos. 27 to 39 of the N. C. Weekly.
Nick Carter Quarterly, No. 4, embracing Nos. 58 to 65 of the N. C. Weekly.
Nick Carter Quarterly, No, 5, embracing Nos. 66 to 78 of the N. C. Weekly.
Nick Carter Quarterly, No. 6, embracing Nos. 79 to 91 of the N. C. Weekly.
Nick Carter Quarterly, No. 7, embracing Nos. 92 to 104 of the N. C. Weekly.
Diamond DiGes Jv. Quarterly, No. 1, embracing Nos.1 to 18, Diamond

Dick, Jr.
ee ed Jr. Quarterly, No. 2, embracing Nos. 14 to 26, Diamond
Dick, Jr.

“A OU CO

Diamond Dick, Jr. Quarterly, No. 8, embracing Nos. 27 to 39, Diamond - ;
Dick, Jr. pores
Diamond Dick, Jr. Quarterly, No. 4, embracing Nos. 40 to 62, Diamond ES I

   

Dick, Jr.
Diamond oy Jr. Quarterly, No. 5, embracing Nos, 53 to 65, Diamond
Dick, Jr.

   

 

    
   

 

 
  

Sold by all Newsdealers, or sent post-paid hy mail on receipt of
price hy

   

STREET & SMITH, Pustisuers, 238 William Street, New York.

   
 

WHAT IS A NOVEL WORTH ?

 

For years Novels and Magazines have been sold at
prices ranging from 25 to 50 Cents. Improved
machinery has decreased the cost of production, and
the Ten Cent Magazine has become an established
fact. Now first quality novels are offered to the
public at

fey CENTS...

 

These Libraries are not composed of poor stories
printed on cheap paper. They are not a collection
of unsalable books offered at reduced prices because
they cannot be sold otherwise. They do not contain
a series of stories by unknown authors.

The Eagle Library, The Medal Library,

The Arrow Library, The Columbia Library,
The Magnet Library, The Historical Series,

are offered at Ten Cents because that is the correct
modern price for a first-class copyright novel. In
these books the type is clear and legible, the paper of
good quality, the stories by the best known popular
authors, the covers of most attractive design and

THE PRICE IS RIGHT...

 

 

 

Read one and you will want another.
Do not be fooled by inferior books at a higher price.
These libraries are published by

STREET & SMITH, New York.

 
Here is where you get the celebrated Nick Carter Stories : :

STREET & 2
smrts Magnet Detective Library

12MO BOOKS—ELEGANT COVERS,
RETAIL PRICE, TEN CENTS.

75—The Clever Celestial. By Nicholas Carter.

74—The Twin Detectives. By K. F Hill.

73—Two Plus Two. By Nicholas Carter.

72—Sherlock Holmes Detective Stories. By A. Conan Doyle,
71—The Diamond Mine Case. By Nicholas Carter.
70—Little Lightning. By Police Captain James.
69—Detective Bob Bridger. By R. M. Taylor.

68—The Double Shuffle Club. By Nicholas Carter.
67—The Mystery of a Madstone. By K. F. Hill.

66—The Detective’s Clew. By O. L. Adams.

65—Found on the Beach. By Nicholas Carter.

64—The Red Camellia. By Fortune DuBoisgobey.
63—The Chevalier Casse-Cou. By Fortune DuBoisgobey.
62—A Fair Criminal. By Nicholas Carter.

61—The Maltese Cross. By Eugene T. Sawyer.

60—A Chase Around the World) By Mariposa Weir.
59-—A Millionaire Partner. By Nicholas Carter.
58—Muertalma, or the Poisoned Pin. By Marmaduke Dey.
57—The Vestibule Limited Mystery. By Marline Manly.
56—At Thompson’s Ranch. By Nicholas Carter.

5d5—His Great Revenge, Vol. II. By Fortune DuBoisgobey.
54—-His Great Revenge, Vol. I. By Fortune DuBoisgobey.
53—An Accidental Password. By Nicholas Carter.
52—The Post Office Detective. By George W. Goode.
51—The Los Huecos Mystery. By Eugene T. Sawyer.
50—The Man from India. By Nicholas Carter.

49—At Odds With Scotland Yard. By Nicholas Carter.
48—The Great Travers Case. By Dr. Mark Merrick.
47—The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. By Fergus Hume.
46—Check No. 777. _ By Nicholas UVarter.

45—Old Specie, the Treasury Detective. By Marline Manley.
44—The Blue Veil. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.
43—Among the Nihilists. By Nicholas Carter.

42—The Revenue Detective. By Police Captain James.
41—Jobn Needham’s Double.. By Joseph Hatton.

 

 
 

THE MAGNET LIBRARY.

40—The Mountaineer Detective. By 0. W. Cobb.
39—Among the Counterfeiters. By Nicholas Carter.
38—The Matapan Affair. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.
37—The Prairie Detective. By Leander P. Richardson.
36—The Crime of the Opera House, Vol. II. By F. Du Boisgobey
35—The Crime of the Opera House, Vol. I. By F. Du Boisgobey
34—The Society Detective. By Oscar Maitland.
33—The Convict Colonel. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.
32—A Mysterious Case. By K. F. Hill.
31—The Red Lottery Ticket. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.
30—The Bag of Diamonds. By George Manville Fenn.
29—The Clique of Gold. By Emile Gaboriau.
28—Under His Thumb. By Donald J. McKenzie.
27—The Steel Necklace. By Fortune Du Boisgobey.
26—File No. 113. By Emile Gaboriau.
25—The Detective’s Triumph. By Emile Gaboriaun.
24—The Detective’s Dilemma.’ By Emile Gaboriau.
23—Hvidence By Telephone. By Nicholas Carter.
22—The Champdoce Mystery. By Emile Gaboriau.
21—A Deposit Vault Puzzle. By Nicholas Carter.
20—Caught in the Net. By Emile Gaboriau.
19—A Chance Discovery. By Nicholas Carter.
18—The Gamblers’ Syndicate. By Nicholas Carter.
17—The Piano Box Mystery. By Nicholas Carter.
SI 16—A Woman’s Hand. By Nicholas Carter.
i 15—The Widow Lerouge. By Emile Gaboriau.
14—Caught in the Toils. By Nicholas Carter.
13—The Mysterious Mail Robbery. By Nicholas Carter.
12—Playing a Bold Game. By Nicholas Carter.
11—Fighting Against Millions. By Nicholas Carter.
10—The Old Detective’s Pupil. By Nicholas Carter.
9—A Stolen Identity. By Nicholas Carter.
8—An Australian Klondike. By Nicholas Carter.
7—The American Marquis. By Nicholas Carter.
6—A Wall Street Haul. By Nicholas Carter
5—The Crime of a Countess. By Nicholas Carter.
4—Tracked Across the Atlantic. By Nicholas Carter.
3—A Titled Counterfeiter. By Nicholas Carter.
2—The Great Enigma. By Nicholas Carter.
I—A Klondike Claim. By Nicholas Carter.

The stories by Nicholas Carter can be had in no other series.

 

 

mcs
ay

 

 
[eee

STREET. & SMITH’S

Dew York Weekly:

IS THE MOST POPULAR
OF ALL STORY PAPERS.

weeed

BRL O0T000020000000000000202008

Hm et

é
|
: FOR MORE THAN FIFTY YEARS
;
°
°

It has been the favorite visitor in thousands
of homes throughout our broad land. % ttt

Hm em

FOR 1899... 5

We propose to make it better than ever
before, 2% ee er

hm

 

.wSEND FOR A...

SAMPLE COPY FREE.

dancinnnsessscanencse

 

 
 

 

 
 

TER | street & sma

Cents

Is the
Right
Price
for a
Good
Novel
¢

THIS BOOK
IS A FAIR
SAMPLE OF
THE ENTIRE
LINE

@

For Sale by
Newsdealers
Everywhere

Make the Right Books
at the Right Price

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ARROW LIBRARY contains the
best work of the most famous
writers.

The EAGLE LIBRARY contains the
best. and most popular American
copyright novels.

The MAGNET LIBRARY is the only
line of first-class detective tales.
The exclusive list of the celebrated
Nick Carter (American) stories, and
the best work of foreign writers.

The COLUMBIA LIBRARY of stories
of war and adventure.

The MEDAL LIBRARY has the best
and most famous stories ever writ-
ten for boys.

The ALLIANCE LIBRARY. A line
of religious novels, each one con-
taining sound Christian teachings,
and entirely undenominational.

The HISTORICAL SERIES. A new
and specially written series of his-
tories that ‘ read like novels.”

 

 

 

 

ALL THE ABOVE ARE
TEN-CENT BOOKS