SesaAe Yd}eq ae Se: Ea oo. oe s . 2 [3 w of s un 1 ie t |e BA i an fy af |S Wess: i Nia i i 1 eye! i a i Oo “ | fot i N I ij i] | | a | | eS = || o | i | | ee 1 is ) E | oles ale \\ es 1 ee 1 Fel. } wu I > | i ele |) ae ie We a Nes ney el We ee i oO | | os coor ze‘o sro £7'0- gz'0 v €€" os'6 LE°LT 80°9S Ebee os ZEOE $8'29 Peete Vee TS'°6T 26'22- 1S'62 OTZL € 69°Lb- F | Out For Everything [a —_ we CHEEK AND CHIN. OR, THE BOY WHO TOOK CHANCES OR, A NEW YORK BOY ON THE ROAD BY TOM TEASER 7 ma- OUT NEXT WEEK “ag = ..NEW STORIES.. Qe OUT NEXT WEEK “SBE sy AT Issued Weekly and Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1906, by FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C, Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office. October 19th, 1894. NEW YORK, MAY 12, 1906. es Per ANNUM, IN ae) No. 60 4 q FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, Vol. XXIV. 24 Union Square, N. Yo } $1.25 For Six MONTHS. T Whi Wi | f W | \\ Or, The Man Who was Never Seen ne ie 2070 O1 WO eC wan a i | | 43% ee | : Hi i Seeing the panel open, “Bat” approached it, bent over and peered in. “Hey, old man, I want to see you!” bawled the detective. “I want to ask ag Whish! A powerful arm suddenly. shot through the opening and a hand grasped Maloney’s throat. - > ee f HAPPY. DAYS. BEDTIME, Last year my bedtime was at eight, And every single night I used to wish the clock would wait, Or else stay out of sight. It always seemed to me | The next half hour’d be oe The nicest time of all the day If mother would agree. But she always shook her head, And she sort of jumped and said, “Why, it’s late—after eight— And it’s time you were in bed!” That clock would always do its best _. Fo sit all quiet there, Until I was my comfyest In some big easy chair... Then its striking would begin, And [’d tell my motherkin How I’d just bezun a chapter, and It was so int’restin’— : And the end was just ahead; But she usually said, “No, it’s late—after eight— And it’s time to go to bed.” And now my bedtime is ha’ past, But yet that old clock does © The same mean trick—it’s just as fast Or faster than it was. Last night it seemed to me The next halfhour’d be The nicest time of all the day If mother would agree. _But she smiled and shook her head, _And she kissed me while she said, “Why it’s late—ha’ past eight— * And it’s time you went to bed!” THE WHITE WIZARD OF WALL STREET ny Ry OLD KING BRADY ‘CHAPTER I, TOM WINTER SAVES THE LIFE OF HIS BENEFACTOR. Tom looked through the crack of the door and almost fainted. There, at the washstand in the corner, stood Mr. Jack Manola, his employer and friend, facing the mirror with a revolver at his head. Tom did not dare to call-out for fear his words might precipitate the fatal shot. He had not the least doubt that Jack Manola meant to commit suicide, but he did not want to be the one to precipitate the rash deed. Besides, Tillie Trumper, the stenogra- pher, was banging away on her type- writer, and the machine made such a racket that there was no certainty that Tom could Make his voice heard. But Tom Winter was one of the sort of boys who not only think things, but do things. Something had to be done, and that on the instant. “M. K. & T. is up three points!” roared Tom. It wasn’t! Tom had not even looked at the ticker. What he knew was that Mr. Jack Manola was deeply imterested in M. K. & TT. The ruse worked. Instead of a pistol shot, Tom heard his employer’s voice calling: “What’s that you say?” This gave Tom his chance. Stepping into the private office, he shut the door and put his back against it. The revolver had vanished. Jack Manola stood drawing water from the ice-cooler. He.tossed off a glass as nonchalantly as though he had gone to the cooler for no other purpose. Then, lighting a tigarette, he turned. and_ taced Tom. He was the best dressed man on Wall street, and one of. the coolest hands at the game of dollars known on the Stock Exchange. “What's that you said about M. K. & F,, Tom?” he asked. “I didn’t quite catch it. I am getting a bit hard of hearing, I think.” “What I said was that M. K. & T, was up three points,” replied Tom, “but I lied. I don’t know whether it is up or down.” “Tt is probably down,” said the broker, flinging himself into his desk chair. “What makes your face so white? I think I know why you led.” Tom tried to answer, but his tongue seemed glued to his mouth, he was sO scared. : You were spying on me through the crack of the door,” continued the broker. “You saw me with the revolver at my head. You thought I was going to blow My brains out. Well, you were right. 1 should have done it if you hadn’t spoken.” “If I was.in your place and was deter- mined to commit suicide, I should jump overboard, seeing that you can’t swim,” uskily. Seo ES a great ‘deal i | account or on Mine?” ‘your private affairs. ‘plied the broker. air TE said it: broker. “You are Sie. 2 nial Broker Manela. “Tf I had shot myself, then I should not only have spoiled the office carpet, but hoodooed the office into the bargain. AS you suggest, to do it by drowning would be a much more satisfactory way.” “But you mustn’t do it at all, Uncle Jack!” cried Tom, . “It’s wicked! If you kill yourself, what am-] going to do? Promise me that you won’t do it! Prom- ise me right now!” Tom was almost ready to cry with ex- citement. — The man whom he addressed was not his uncle. He was not even supposed toa be related to him. : Years before, when Tom was a boy of four, he had been abandoned by whoever he belonged to on board of an ocean liner bound from Liverpool to New York. To keep him from being deported Jack Manola had taken him in charge. The broker was a bachelor. He did not adopt the boy, nor even take him to live with him. Instead, he put him in charge of a com- petent woman, later sent him to school and gave him a first-class education, but not as a collegian. Later still, he took him into his Wall | street office, and now, for two years, had been educating him in a business way. Tom had been taught to eall Jack Manola “uncle,” but the fact was, the boy did not even know his own name. He was called “Winter,” because that was the season in which Manola took him in hand. And having stated these facts’ thus briefly, the cause of the boy’s agitation is made. plain. Manola looked at him with the same cold gaze. He had always treated Tom well, and ‘ had provided for him most liberally, but he had never shown him any open affec- tion. Nor had they ever-lived together. “You seem to be a lot interested in this business,” he said. “On yours, if you would only believe it, Uncle Jack,” replied Tom, the tears coming to his eyes. “I don’t want to butt into I never did that, as you know very well. But you have been good to me, and—and—well, you don’t suppose I could stand by and see you kill yourself and not make a holler, do you?” “That's all right,,Tom. ff L did it, I have no doubt you would get along,” re- “You know the ways of the Street now, You could easily get a job. As for anything you may expect me to leave you, that will have to be cut out, for I stand to-day a ruined man.” “That don’t surprise me,” said Tom. “Vve suspected it for some time. But you have your seat on the Stock Exchange.” “Wrong. I’ve even pledged that to cover my debts. I never was worth much as fortunes go nowadays. I’ve dropped half a million in the last three months. Noth- ing but a sudden boom in the stocks I am carrying can save me, and that’s not likely to come.” “If you will allow me to speak freely, Uncle Jack, I might suggest “Well? Out with it.” : LE you, would quit doping with mor- phine &Trom' ”? “There, I knew you would go up in the But how can a man ex- pect to buck the dollar game unless his brain is clear?” “You had better mind your own busi- | ness. I didn’t expect this from you.” “And you wouldn’t have got it if the circumstances had been different from just what” they are. Why don’t you consult the White Wizard of Wall Street? They say he has helped many a man back on his feet. There was Alfred Singleton “What do you know about Singleton?” broke in Manola, fiercely. “You know how far gone he was. worth a million to-day.” Well?) 2 “And the White Wizard’s advice did it. IT have it straight from Charley Francis, his clerk.” “Go on about your work, Tom,” said ine broker. “I have heard of this man before. Although no one ever sees him, it is a He’s fact that many brokers have been greatly assisted by his tips. It is worth con- sidering. ITll think about it.” Tom stepped forward, and for the first time in his life allowed himself to lay the hand of affection upon the shoulder of this cold,. reticent man. “Promise me you won't do it, Uncle Jack,” he said in a broken voice. “There, there, boy, I promise I won't do it till I give you notice,” replied the “Go on about your work,” Tom immediately left the private office. He left the door open behind him, as it usually was, but his heart sank, for Jack Manola immediately got up and closed it. Tom fully expected to hear the pistol shot, but it did not come. “What’s the matter?” demanded Tillie Trumper, after a minute. “You are as white as a sheet. Have you and the boss been having a quarrel, Tom?” » “Ves we eee a few words, but it don’t . “Ts it on your own plied Tom. amount to anything, z fmoled Tom, writ- ing rapidly. - It was now after twelve o "Glog. and in a few minutes Jack Manola left the of- fice. He had been on the ’Change all the morning, and this was about his lunch time. | Sometimes he eame back after lunch -and sometimes not. This time it was after three when he returned. No man living could judge by Jack Manola’s face what his thoughts were. . Even when he was about to put the bullet into his head there had not been the slightest change of expression, and when he came in now he looked just the same fas usual. He went to his desk, looked over the letters which had come in during his ab- sence, ald having asked Tom a few busi- ness questions, told Tillie that she could go home then. This was unusual, and the girl did not. ' know what to make Of it: “Wha—what do you mean? Am I dis- charged?” she gasped. “Discharged nothing!” snapped the pro- ker. “I shan’t want you any more to-day, so you may as well go home.” Tillie departed, insulted and mystified. Tom waited. He could hear his employer writing away at the desk. , At. the end of about half an hour his hame was suddenly called. oe Tom! ” “Yes, sir!” Tom slipped off his stool and went into the private office. “T have Made up my mind to take your advice and consult the White Wizard,” said Manola. “Close-up here, and we will go down there together. It’s all nonsense, I suppose, but—but I may as well have a | shy at it. Anyhow, it’s the last throw!” CHAPTER II. IN THE WIZARD’S DEN. The White Wizard of Wall Street was one of those mysterious characters who from time to time have made their pres- ence felt in the great financial center of the United States. Wall street is seldom without some one of this sort, but in a way this White Wiz- ard eclipsed them all as a tipster on stocks and all things relating to the money market from the fact that he never showed himself in public or in private, either. There was no record of his ever being | seen walking on either Wall or Broad streets, or any other street, for that mat- ter. Nor. did he ever show himself to his clients. Thus he came to be known as the “man who was never seen.” But in spite of these peculiarities, the White Wizard had continued during sev- eral years to sell his tips for cash. How he lived nobody knew, unless it was the owner of the building in which he held forth, and he, it was said, invari- ably refused to diseuss the matter. But, just the same, the White Wizard continued to carry on business. Not all who applied to him came away satisfied, by any means. In many cases he utterly refused to take their money or to answer questions. In other instances he gave his clients such a terrible raking down that they were glad to take to their heels. But all these peculiarities only added to the Wizard’s reputation. Just how he managed it all we shall now proceed to show. Tom looked Broker Manola over as he entered the private office, and knew that he had been hitting the morphine again. “J think you are wise, Uncle Jack,” re- “T’d go if I was you.” “Tm going,” said Manola, “and I am going now. Will you go with me?” “Sure I will. They say he will only see one person at a time, though.” “Is that so? Is he a medium, or a clair- voyant, or anything like that?” “I suppose he must be. Really, I don’t know what you would eall him. I only know what Charley Francis has told me, and what I have heard from others on the street.” “Tt have heard a lot about him myself. | E believe he is considered a clairvoyant.” “Do you take amy stock in such business, Unele Jack?” “J den’t know anything about this man. I do take stock in it. I am a Frenchman. I was brought up in Paris. My father believed in such things, and was a member of the famous French society for physical | research, which has proved hypnotism to be: a scientific fact. Personally I never came up against anything of fhe kind.” Tom made no further talk. -This was the first time he had ever heard | Jack Manola allude Lid his family or his youth. . Tom knew ihat he bana speak French, Spanish and It: an ~~ a native, “but to which race he bia if to eith fad Had no<1dea. They now left the office together 8 started down Wall street. “You know where his place is?” ask Manola. “Yes; down by the ferry.” “What's his name again?” “It’s an Italian name; I forget. bably he has a sign.” “But you know the building? We ¢ don’ want to go prowling about asking whi e the White Wizard of Wall Street lives.” “Yes, I know the building. Charley Francis pointed it out to me. There wil | be no trouble, Uncle Jack, and I do hop he gives you a tip on the market which ‘will put you on the road to fortune again.” “It’s to be hoped so,” replied Manola. “Tf he don’t, I tell you right now, ‘Tom, this week will see my finish, and you have cause to regret that you did not le me spoil the office carpet, my boy. W! hello, Peter! How are you? By Jove, you : are looking fine.’ Right in the midst of his converse Broker Manola had stopped a hatchet- faced man who was hurrying past them. He was altogether a peculiar looks person. ue His little glittering eyes were dike th eyes of a ferret. He had a way of pursing out his and making his cheeks hollow before: he spoke. : This he did three times aid then an- swered: ; “Oh, I am very well, hope you are the same.” De “Never better: in my life, Peter,” was the reply. ae “Ah!” said Peter, fixing his little eae on Tom. “Is this the boy?” “This is the boy grown to be a man, replied Manola, with a short: laugh. “Ah!” said Peter. “Is that so? W good-day, Mr. Manola.” ‘ He hurried away, and Tom and the br ker resumed their walk. : “Who is he?” asked Tom. that man before.” i “That is Peter Pye, the detective,” i. plied Manola, “Shrewdest proposition o his kind in New York, yet he fell be on a case [ gave him once.” e "§Vesg?” “Yes. bh “He seemed to know me.” “That’s it. It was your case.” “Mine, Uncle Jack?” “Yes; IF tried te find out who you. hes longed to, Tom.” . “And failed? I always wanted to ask you about my parents.” i “And failed utterly. two thousand dollars.” “Then you have no idea who L am?” “No more idea than you have yourself & I picked you up on board the old White Star steamer Atlantic, an abandoned kid bawling for mamma, That is all I knew Mr. Manola, Sek “lve se It cost me ov ‘| about you then, and it all I know about you. now.” Z “What would ever have become of me if it hadn’t been for you, Uncle Jack?” ms The broker shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, I daresay you would have been taken care of by a better man than Me,’ “he replied, and then with a sigh he add ed: “You are one of the kind who will, ae ways land on your feet, Tom. I suppose you have got to stick to Wall street, for that is what you have been educated for, but take my advice and get out of it just as soon as you make your first success. Fortune seldom strikes a fellow twice in- the stock market. If I had retired tiree years ago i ; “Here we are,” said Tom, withott wish- ing to cut his benefactor’s remarks short. They had reached one of the old build- ings on Wall street below Front. ; The store was occupied by a ship chan- © dler, and there were offices above. — — “That’s his sign,” said Tom, pointing to. a battered strip of un which had painted “upon it: “PROF. POINSETTI.” There was no indication of the profes- e sor’s business, but in addition to the name was “Top Foor.” They aseended the stairs, and ‘upollt reaching the top floor found themselves pe against two doors. The one in front -had the professor’s sign “ooo a the one in the rear nolniae. at all. “ “I suppose we go right in, ” said Manola. = “Don’t know, I’m sure. Let’s try it, ae replied Tom, and he opened the door, __ It admitted sathem to a narrow lobby in which was a single chair. This was all the furnishing of the oe except three mirrors set upon the wall 8 peculiar angles. One was flat against it, another was” ed outward sideways to the right, the third, which occupied a different tion, was tilted to the left. The width of the place was not der of the loft by a high partition of | boards which extended from floor to a which reached halfway to his waist. neath which was a sign reading: “Ring the bell’. 5 The lobby extended out to a window in “front, but was cut off on a line with the door in the rear. --There was no door leading in behind the partition, so far as they could see. “Heavens! This is primitive enough,” muttered Manola. “Bust ahead, Tom. Tiltilate the tintanabulum—in other words, ying the bell.” ‘Tom caught the bell and pulled it. 6“ Sping! ” - A loud-voiced gong sounded. “Heavens! Hnough to wake the dead!” breathed the broker. “That ought to bring the White Wizard out of his den for fair.” But they waited a good two minutes and there was not a sound. “Pull the bell again, Tom!” cried the broker. “By jove, if there is anybody in . this blessed shop, we will have him out!” CHAPTER III. THE WIZARD'S PROPHECY. Tom gave the bell another pull. As it rang out a harsh voice was heard to call from behind the partition: “Whoever you are, if you can’t be pa- tient and wait till I get ready to attend to you, g0 away.” “Well!” whispered Broker “there’ s a calldown for you.” “That’s the way he goes on, I am told,” replied Tom in a whisper. “So? Then we must be patient.” _ They waited fully ten minutes before there was a sound. _ Then suddenly a wire, or string, behind the partition was pulled and the panel flew open. “T wanted to consult you-——” Manola, stepping forward. He stopped short. be seen. Tom touched him on the sleeve. “Look there!” he whispered. He pointed to one of the mirrors. There, reflected on the glass, was the bust of an old, old man. He wore some sort of white robe. His hair was long and as white as the driven snow. .It was the same with his beard, The Manola; began hands were not to be seen. It was like looking at a living picture. But that the reflection was that of a real man was made plain by the eyes. These were constantly winking. They did not fix themselves either. upon Manola nor Tom, but continued to stare into vacancy, aS a voice behind the parti- tion said: “Wait, gentlemen: There is an intruder coming. [I must settle with him first. Afterwards I will deal with you.” Then in an instant there was a clatter on the stairs outside, and into the room burst a stout man with a huge diamond stud in his shirt-front and a very shiny tall hat. It was the notorious “Bat” Maloney, a Wall street detective known to every one and cordially disliked by all. Seeing the panel open Bat approached it, bent over and peered in. “Hey, old man, I want to see you!” bawled the detective. “I want to ask ” “Whish! A powerful arm suddenly shot through _ the opening and a hand grasped Maloney’s throat. “Away with you!” cried a voice behind the partition. “We give nothing out to detectives here!” Then the detective was hurled backward. “Bad luck!” he snarled. For a moment he acted as if he would resent the attack, but he finally seemed to think better of it. and took himself off without another word, banging the door behind him. It was the Wizard’s man servant who at- tacked him, but he did not know it. “Now then,” said the voice, “we will proceed. Pierre Manola, of Paris, France.” “Tt certainly am,” muttered the broker, looking puzzled enough, for he had not communicated his intention of visiting the - Wizard to anyone but Tom. Never before, to the best of his know- ledge, had he seen the face reflected in the mirror, _ How then was it possible that the great unseen could recognize him, and above all, know-his name and ancestry? . _ “Silence! If you wish to be guided by me, do not speak again till I give you per- mission,” the voice called. Manola subsided. There was a brief pause, and then the voice continued: “You came here to connie me because you are financially ruined; because you . have been saved from suicide by the boy with you; because you have committed : forgery, ‘and your crime will be found out in three days, when the a8 notes come into your bank. - “You are, aS you See it, a ruined man; this you consider a great danger; | voice. There was no one to. You are John Manola, son of } you had rather die than face the world as a criminal; you hoped that I would give you tips On stocks to enablé you to make good, aS I have done to many enone This cannot be.” There was a pause. Manola’s face was deathly white, and he kept his eyes averted from Tom. Again the voice spoke. | “Let Me tell you, John Manola, that fate has stranger things in store for you than you dream. You are not a bad man at heart, but weak, pitiably weak, and the vile drugs with which for the past year you have been dosing yourself have been the cause of your downfall. From the fate which menaces you, you will sudden- ly be snatched. You will by this time to- morrow be dead to: the world. Another will usurp your name and place. Even now he is plotting to push you from his path as he did in the past. Do you know to whom [I refer? Speak!” “He is dead!” replied Manola in a hollow voice. “He is not dead, nor will you be dead when he believes you dead!” called the “Dark clouds surround you. The future is as black as midnight. Fear not! I see light breaking through tHe clouds. The day will come when you shall be re- stored to your name and place through the waif for whose feeble life you cared. That is all. Now go!” The voice ceased to speak, and the panel closed with a bang. Manola reeled against the partition and covered his eyes with his hands. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” he gasped. “It cannot —it cannot be true!” “T. must get him out of this,” thought Tom, whose feelings can be better im- -agined than described. “Ts there anything to pay?” ue called out. “Nothing to pay, Tom Winter,” replied the voice, though the Wizard had passed tg, the other end of the loft. “Take him away. Be of good courage, and if you are in trouble, come to me.” “Great Scott! muttered Tom. “Come, Uncle Jack! this,” he said aloud. Manola followed him unquestioning- like. He acted like a man jin a walking swoon. They descended to the street, and just as they were leaving the building who should come along down the street but Detective Peter Pye. “Ah, ha! Been consulting the White Wizard of Wall Street!” he cried. “Strange character that!” He pushed right on, seemingly paying no attention to the fact that Manola did not reply nor even appear to hear him. They walked on up Wall street in si- lence. Tom was waiting for Manola to speak. This happened when they caMe abreast the Drexel building. The broker suddenly stopped short and said: “Which way are you going, Tom?” “Vm bound home, Uncle Jack, .but I don’t have to go. I can stay with you as long as you wish.” “Leave me.” “Just as you say, Uncle Jack.” “Good-by, Tom.” - Thus saying, Manola bent down and kissed Tom on the forehead. Never before had he done anything of the sort. Having done it, he turned abruptly away, darted across Wall street and hurried down Broad. : Tom was frightened. He would have followed him, but Manola was not the sort of man to be interfered with. So Tom, after a few minutes of inde- cision, went about his business. Not only was he deeply puzzled at the singular outcome of the interview with the Wizard, but he was terribly anxious about its effect on Jack Manola. What if he should be driven to suicide by the strange words he had heard? All night long Tom tessed and ae unable to sleep. Towards morning he dropped off for an hour or so and dreamed that he was travel- ing over hilly country with Detective Peter Pye. They were looking everywhere for Jack Manola, who seemed to have mysteriously disappeared. _ The dream ended with their discovery of the White Wizard in a hut. Pye was in the act of questioning him about Manola, when Tom suddenly awoke. It was ‘broad daylight and time for him He knows my name, too,” Let’s get out of | to get up. Tom hurried through his breakfast and started downtown. His room was in one of the Greenwich Village streetS, off Abingdon Square. . Here, as he boarded his electric car, he bought a paper and started to read it on his way downtown, - Naturally he took in the stock report first. A glance showed him that the market had taken a turn at the close more un- favorable than ever to Mr. _Manola’s in- terests. speaking from a distance as | - Tom now turned to the news of the day and had almost reached his destination, when he came to the following item: “Suicide from the Fall River Boat.” He glanced down the column to see the name, a strange, sinking sensation coming over him. John Manola, Wall street broker! There it was in print. “Great Heavens! He has done _ it!” thought Tom. “Uncle Jack is dead! And it ne I who advised him to drown him- se y CHAPTER IV. WHAT IS THE MATTER WiTH UNCLE JACK? Tom for a moment could not bring him- self to read the item which announced Manola’s death. ; But this state of hesitation did not last. He thrust from his mind the emotion which was getting the best of him, and read as follows: “Last night while the Fall River steam- er Puritan was off Block Island the night watchman on the port side discovered the door of one of the. outside staterooms standing open. As the electric light was burning inside, the watchman looked in and discovered that the lower berth had been suddenly vacated by its occupant, which fact was proved by the bed being still warm, : “This stateroom, No. 101, had been en- gaged by Mr. John Manola, the well- known Wall street broker. “Manola was seen at supper and in the saloon during the evening. “His clothing lay over a chair, aed his watch, pocket-book, and private papers were found intact. “Upon the washstand was a bottle con- taining morphine tablets, with the cork re- moved. “All the clothing, even to the pajamas, was found in the stateroom. That the un- fortunate man sprang overboard naked there can be no doubt.” Tom folded up the paper, and left the car. To describe his sensations is no part of our purpose. Enough to say that he was deeply moved. Now the prophecy of the White Wizard of Wall steet was forgotten. As Tom happened to know, Manola could not swim a stroke. To fancy that by any possibility he could have been saved seemed ridiculous. “That’s the last of poor Uncle Jack,” Tom said to himself bitterly. “It’s all my fault. IfI had not urged him to go to that horrible old fortune-teller this might never have occurred.” Tom went straight to the office and | opened up. And such a morning as he put in! Never could he forget it. First it was Tillie Trumper who had not seen the paper. Before Tom could begin to talk it out with the typewriter the telephone began ringing. Call after call came over the wire. “Was it true? Was Manola actually dead?” : To one and all Tom gave the same an- swer, deliberately thought of beforehand. He had seen it in the paper, and that was all he knew about it. When he part- ed with Mr. Manola the afternoon before, the latter had not said a word about going over to Boston, and Tom knew of no busi- ness which should take him there. He was inclined to think that there might be some mistake. - Again and again he answered the same question, both over the telephone and to those who called in person to inquire. At last, just before noon, came a des- patch from Boston which read: “Rumor false. [ am alive. Send word to Stock Exchange.—J. Manola.” “Oh, good!” cried Tillie Tumper, when Tom read her the despatch. He immediately telephoned the Stock Exchange. But after that, when he went into the private office and sat down in Manola’s chair, he remembered the Wizard’s words: “By this time to-morrow you will be dead to the world, and another shall have usurped your name and place.” Perhaps he had not remembered them just as they were spoken. The idea was all right, however. This is what the Wizard had said. “Tf anybody really is working against Uncle Jack it is up to me to keep my eyes open,” thought Tom. “I'll believe he is still alive when I see him; and yet——” Now the rest of the Wizard’s prophecy came to mind: “Fear not! I see light breaking thecuen the clouds. ‘The day will come when you shall be restored to your name and place, through the waif for whose feeble life you cared,” The business day on Wall street ends by four o’clock. Tom was up be Lege it pusyer te ques- fee Mong all day. ie 8 |take Stateroom 101, but 102 opposite. some reason which ‘he does not explain, he 'me busy,” he exclaimed. When ‘the afternoon papers came out: Tom was on hand to buy. The earlier editions. contained no al- lusion to the matter, but later Tom read the following: “Fall River Boat Mystery. “The mystery of the disappearance of - Mr. John Manola from the steamer Puri- tan has been explained in a peculiar way. by the supposed suicide himself. “It appears that Mr. Manola did not For gave the name of William Smith to the clerk, “During the night, so he claims, his state- room was entered, his clothes abstracted, 'and those of another person substituted. _ “This person must then have been the suicide. Who he was Mr. Manola claims to have no idea, but his own identity he was able to fully establish. “Mr. Butts, the clerk of the Puritan, however, declared that Manola is the man . who took Stateroom No. 101, and that he also took No. 102 a little later, giving the name of Smith. “This persistency on the part of the clerk involves the case in further mys- tery.” . This was all. From that hour the matter dopped out of the papers. Next morning when Tom arrived at the office he found Manola seated at his desk. If Tom had doubted, all doubts vanished as soon as he looked at the man. It was simply Jack Manola, and no one else, to all appearances. “Oh, Uncle Jack!” cried Tom, the door of the private office, glad to see you. 2 Manola looked up from the letter he was reading with an immovable counte- nance. His manner was as cold as ice. “Don’t intrude upon me when you see “When I want to talk to you I'll ring the bell, and let you know.” If a wet blanket had been thrown over closing “T am so ees ‘him Tom could not have been more com- pletely squelched. “I beg your pardon!” he said proudly, and turned, left the private office, and went to his desk. It was Jack Manola’s voice, and Jack Manola’s insolent manner which he had seen displayed to many, but never before to himself. To say that Tom was hot under the col- lar scarcely expresses it. He was furious! And now, as one will forget under such circumstances, he forgot all about the White Wizard and his prophecy. Uncle Jack had turned him down! It was enough! But this was only the beginning. For half an hour the broker sat at his desk, examining his mail. Then he lighted a cigar, and called: “Tom Winter! Step here.” Tom came in through the door, his face betraymmg the agitation he felt. “You got my despatch from Boston?” | demanded Manola, Sees, Bit. os “You ‘telephoned the Stock Exchange?” “Yes, sir?! “Hand me my check-book.” “Tt is in the left-hand drawer there, sir, where you always keep it.” “Oh—ah—yes! Just so. This—this re- port of my death has rattled me. Make up your personal account.” eOine? = “Are you deaf? account.” Now, the fact was Tom drew twenty-five dollars a week, but Manola scarcely ever failed to give him extra money, which was never entered on the books. “There is nothing coming to me, Uncle Jack,” he stammered. “Nothing?” “Unless you call the—the—my salary for the four days of this week. I don’t - understand you. I 2 “Stop! Let me see? How much is it again that I am giving you now?” “Twenty-five since the first of the year, SIT: “Oh, yes. Just so.” Manola took out the check-book, and began to write. Tearing out the check which he drew, he handed it to Tom. It was for $50, and aan to the boy’s order. “You take that,” ie Manola, “and call it square. I shall not require your ser- vices any longer.” “Wha—what?” gasped Tom. “What ails you, boy? Are you deaf?” shouted the broker. “I have given you a week and a half in advance, You are dis- charged.” “Discharged! " eCor ” ‘3 Manola arose and pointed to the door. Make up your personal Why, Uncle Jack!” CHAPTER Vv. - TOM AND TILLIE GET THE BOUNCE. “Go? Yes!” cried Tom. “I'll go right now, but. I Jeave this behind me! ue to speak * cross wort ae - Tillie,” broke in Tom, Well | sto “HAPPY DAYS. “ He flung dis check to the floor, and yalben out. Stepping only to gather together a few ef his personal belongings, he put on his - hat. and started for. the door. ‘Manola stood in the doorway of the pri- vate office watching him. “You had better take the check,” _ said. Tom. gave him one look and left. ~ His heart was. bursting. He loved Jack Manola as dearly as any boy ever loved a father. Never before had he ee je eneed any- thing but the utmost kindness and liber- ality at the broker’s hands. “What can have come over him?” thought Tom, as the elevator dropped to the leyel of Wall street. But not until he was out upon Wall street did he come to the recollection of the White Wizard’s pophecy again. “By this time to-morrow you will be dead to the world, and another | will have usurped your name and place.” _ “Great Scott! That can’t be Uncle Jack!” thought Tom. “He never would -have used me so. The words of the Wiz- ard have come true!” Deeply puzzled, he stopped on the cor- ner of Nassau street, and leaned against the Treasury railing. Strange thoughts were chasing each oth- er through his puzzled brain. “But it can’t be,” he thought. “Don’t I know Uncle Jack? That man is either he or his very double, face, form, voice, clothes—everything; and yet——” He paused, and then muttered: “But he didn’t know where his own check-book was, nor how much salary I was getting! Say, there is something al- mighty strange about this!” ~ - So much for that line of thought. Then came another. “But who would want to take his place under the circumstances?” he asked him- self, “even cllowing a man could disguise himself as perfectly as that fellow has done it, if he is not Uncle Jack? He will have to face forgery if the White Wizard told the truth, and : Suddenly the truth dawned on him. There was the seat on the Stock Ex- change. It’s value was almost $100,000! Allowing that it took that amount to make good Jack Manola’s obligations, the man would still have his seat, which was some- thing he could not get at any price, with- out having his record thoroughly looked into. There was a big dalae to be had by any- one who could successfully usurp Manola’s place and had money to back him up. . Tom saw that now. Then came the recojlection of Manola’s agitation. -“T thought he was dead!” The broker had said it. To whom did he refer? Likely to this very man. Then there was the mystery of the jug- gled state-rooms. What if it was a case of murder? What if.Jack Manola had been dragged from his berth and thrown overboard while unconscious from the effects of a dose of morphine? There was the statement of the Fall River boat clerk, also. He claimed that Jack Manola had -en- gaged both staterooms. Manola frequently went to Boston on the Fall River boat. He was a man who was accustomed to throw money about freely. He knew everybody. Of course, he must have known the clerk on the Puritan. — “There is detective work to be done here,” he said to himself as the crowd went surging past him.. “That man is never Uncle Jack, in spite of appearances. He had good reason for wanting to be rid of me—he was afraid I would find him out.” “Oh, Tom!” Someone caught his arm. It was Tillie Trumper. The girl had been crying, as her red eyelids showed. -“Oh, Tom!” she repeated. too! 9 “What?” demanded Tom, bounced you?” “Yes. Oh; Tom!” Tillie began to ery, and she pulled down her veil. _. “Come along,” said Ton. about it.” He turned down Pine street. - Tillie calmed herself after a minute. “Why, I was never treated so mean in all my life!” she began. “He never even gave me a minute’s warning! He wouldn’t tell me what fault he had to find with me. Well, say, it was the meanest ever! ‘Pack up and get out,’ he says to me. ‘I don’t want you any longer. Here’s a week’s pay in advance,’ he says. ‘What have I done?’ I. says to him, and would you believe it, he just turned his back on me and shut himself in the private office. Well, say, I believe he’s drunk! years for Mr. Manola. he “Vve fot: it; “Has he “Let’s talk I never knew him Well, say——” the clouds. I’ve worked two | keep away from me, for it will only hi talking auless he interfered. you know he bounced me, too.” “Well, that’s what I thought, Tom, but how could he do it? Aren’t you his adopt- ed son, after a fashion?” .“That’s what I am.” “But what will you do? I always sup- “posed he was going to leave you all his money. They say he’s worth a couple of million. Well, say, I wouldn’t stand for it! I’d see him again if I were you.” - “Oh, I shall see him again, Tillie. You needn't have the least doubt on that score.” “Well, don’t say nothing about me, then. I wouldn’t work for the horrid thing again not on any account. I can get all the jobs I want, and besides I’m expecting to be married in the fall, anyhow. I just guess I don’t have to typewrite unless I want to, so there!” And so the girl went on until at last Tom toek her to the subway station, and finally got her off his hands. As Tillie talked Tom kept thinking, and now his mind was made up. “I’m going back to the Wizard,” he de- termined. “Whoever or whatever he is, his words have come true. If he-can tell yesterday what is going to happen to-day, perhaps he can tell me what’ I ought to do to make things come out right to-mor- | row. Anyhow, he can only say no.” So Tom bent his steps toward Wall street again. : He did not in the least regret having re- fused the check. Tom was not one of the extravagant sort. He lived away inside of his income, and the balance had been carefully banked along with the bulk of the money pres- ents which Jack Manola had bestowed up- on him. Thus Tom had several thousand dollars at his disposal. “I'll spend the last penny I’ve zot but Tll find out the truth of this business,” he said to himself now..- He hurried down to the lower end of Wall street, and once more gs the Wizard’s stairs. CHAPTER VI. TOM PUTS HIMSELF INTO THE HANDS OF PETER -PYE. ~ This time when Tom rang the Wizard’s pell the voice behind the partition an- swered on the instant. “It is all right, Tom Winter. You have done as I told you to do. You are in trou- ble, and you have come to me.” And now for the first time Tom remem- bered the Wizard’s parting words. “Strange that I should have forgotten, 2 he said to himself, Tom waited nearly five minutes. He listened intently, but could not hear a sound behind the partition, until sud- denly the panel-flew open, and there was the white face of the wizard in the glass. “Tt has come to pass as I predicted?” de- manded the voice, and Tom could see the lips of the refiection in the mirror move. “Tt has,” he replied. “Do you. want me to tell you what has occurred?” 6c Yes. obs Tom briefly told all that had happened since he and Manola had left the place the day before. There was silence for a minute, and then the Wizard spoke. “The man who discharged you is not John Manola!” he slowly said. : “Who is he then?” demanded Tom. “Wait,” said the Wizard. “Do not ques- tion me. Listen as I talk. I tell what comes to me To be questioned interferes with my train of thought.” Another pause. - “John Manola did jump off the Fall River boat. “Whether he still lives -or not I cannot now say, but yesterday I saw light through For that reason I should say that he was probably alive, for my predic- tions seldom fail. “Yesterday, also, I saw- him back in his place. This makes me doubly sure. I saw also that his restoration came through you. Will you put your hand in mine, promising me that you will not attempt to look through the opening?” “Certainly,” replied Tom. whatever you say.” “Put your hand through the opening.” Tom did so. Along, firmly. This much he was able to see as he stood ee but he saw no more, nor did he try 0. There was a pause for several minutes, after which the Wizard began to talk