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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FOOL OF THE FAMILY ***





[Illustration: ROUND THE WORLD LIBRARY No. 29]

  The
  Fool of the
  Family

  _By Bracebridge Hemyng_

  [Illustration]

  STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
  PUBLISHERS    NEW YORK.




Round the World Library

  Stories of Jack Harkaway and His Comrades


Every reader, young and old, has heard of Jack Harkaway. His remarkable
adventures in out-of-the-way corners of the globe are really classics,
and every one should read them.

Jack is a splendid, manly character, full of life and strength and
curiosity. He has a number of very interesting companions--Professor
Mole, for instance, who is very funny. He also has some very strange
enemies, who are anything but funny.

Get interested in Jack. It will pay you.


_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_

   1--Jack Harkaway's School Days             By Bracebridge Hemyng
   2--Jack Harkaway's Friends                 By Bracebridge Hemyng
   3--Jack Harkaway After School Days         By Bracebridge Hemyng
   4--Jack Harkaway Afloat and Ashore         By Bracebridge Hemyng
   5--Jack Harkaway Among the Pirates         By Bracebridge Hemyng
   6--Jack Harkaway at Oxford                 By Bracebridge Hemyng
   7--Jack Harkaway's Struggles               By Bracebridge Hemyng
   8--Jack Harkaway's Triumphs                By Bracebridge Hemyng
   9--Jack Harkaway Among the Brigands        By Bracebridge Hemyng
  10--Jack Harkaway's Return                  By Bracebridge Hemyng
  11--Jack Harkaway Around the World          By Bracebridge Hemyng
  12--Jack Harkaway's Perils                  By Bracebridge Hemyng
  13--Jack Harkaway in China                  By Bracebridge Hemyng
  14--Jack Harkaway and the Red Dragon        By Bracebridge Hemyng
  15--Jack Harkaway's Pluck                   By Bracebridge Hemyng
  16--Jack Harkaway in Australia              By Bracebridge Hemyng
  17--Jack Harkaway and the Bushrangers       By Bracebridge Hemyng
  18--Jack Harkaway's Duel                    By Bracebridge Hemyng
  19--Jack Harkaway and the Turks             By Bracebridge Hemyng
  20--Jack Harkaway in New York               By Bracebridge Hemyng
  21--Jack Harkaway Out West                  By Bracebridge Hemyng
  22--Jack Harkaway Among the Indians         By Bracebridge Hemyng
  23--Jack Harkaway's Cadet Days              By Bracebridge Hemyng
  24--Jack Harkaway in the Black Hills        By Bracebridge Hemyng
  25--Jack Harkaway in the Toils              By Bracebridge Hemyng
  26--Jack Harkaway's Secret of Wealth        By Bracebridge Hemyng

In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the
books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New
York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance
promptly, on account of delays in transportation.


To be published in January, 1926.

  27--Jack Harkaway, Missing                    By Bracebridge Hemyng
  28--Jack Harkaway and the Sacred Serpent      By Bracebridge Hemyng


To be published in February, 1926.

  29--The Fool of the Family                    By Bracebridge Hemyng
  30--Mischievous Matt                          By Bracebridge Hemyng


To be published in March, 1926.

  31--Mischievous Matt's Pranks                 By Bracebridge Hemyng
  32--Bob Fairplay Adrift                       By Bracebridge Hemyng
  33--Bob Fairplay at Sea                       By Bracebridge Hemyng


To be published in April, 1926.

  34--The Boys of St. Aldates                   By Bracebridge Hemyng
  35--Billy Barlow                              By Bracebridge Hemyng


To be published in May, 1926.

  36--Larry O'Keefe                             By Bracebridge Hemyng
  37--Sam Sawbones                              By Bracebridge Hemyng


To be published in June, 1926.

  38--Too Fast to Last                          By Bracebridge Hemyng
  39--Home Base                                 By Bracebridge Hemyng




Bill Cody


At a rough estimate there are 400 million civilized human beings who
have heard of Bill Cody, not under his real name, but by the name
everybody called him, "Buffalo Bill."

His character made him an outstanding figure during a period of the
development of America when a strong character was a matter of vital
necessity.

We doubt, however, whether the man's work is fully appreciated, or ever
has been. In the rush and bustle that followed the introduction of the
railroad to the West, the results of Buffalo Bill's work were more
or less overlooked, but a time is coming when this remarkable man's
achievements will be fully appreciated.

This is the character whose adventures are dealt with in Buffalo Bill's
Border Stories.

Read them. You will find them of true historical value.


  STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
  79 Seventh Avenue           New York City




  The Fool of the Family

  By BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG

  Author of the famous Harkaway stories.


  [Illustration]


  STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
  PUBLISHERS
  79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York




(Printed in the United States of America)




TABLE OF CONTENTS


  CHAPTER I. INTRODUCES THE READER TO TOMMY.
  CHAPTER II. HOW SMITHERS FOUND CONSOLATION.
  CHAPTER III. FUN ENDS IN TRAGEDY.
  CHAPTER IV. A NIGHT IN A COFFIN.
  CHAPTER V. THE MAN WITH ONE EYE.
  CHAPTER VI. THE CONFIDENCE GAME.
  CHAPTER VII. TOMMY MAKES A STRANGE VOYAGE.
  CHAPTER VIII. THE WRONG SIGNALS.
  CHAPTER IX. THE SMUGGLER.
  CHAPTER X. LOST IN LONDON.
  CHAPTER XI. TOMMY IN BUTTONS.
  CHAPTER XII. AN ARTISTIC CHIMNEY SWEEPING.
  CHAPTER XIII. TOMMY FINDS A FRIEND IN BOBSEY.
  CHAPTER XIV. A DOSE FOR THE DOCTOR.
  CHAPTER XV. A HASTY TRIP.
  CHAPTER XVI. OUT WEST.
  CHAPTER XVII. KILLED BY HIS FATHER.
  CHAPTER XVIII. "WHO BREAKS, PAYS."
  CHAPTER XIX. BOUND HOME.
  CHAPTER XX. TOMMY'S COURAGEOUS RESOLVE.
  CHAPTER XXI. FINDING A FATHER.
  CHAPTER XXII. THE FINAL TRAGEDY.




THE FOOL OF THE FAMILY.




CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCES THE READER TO TOMMY.


"Mother!" exclaimed Mr. Smithers, as he came into the parlor about
supper time one winter evening, "that boy's a fool."

Mrs. Smithers, who was a quiet-looking, blond little woman, about
thirty-five years of age, looked up from a book she was reading, and
regarded her husband with a weary air.

"What boy?" she asked, languidly.

"As if you didn't know?" replied Mr. Smithers.

"We have two," she said, calmly.

"Oh, that boy, Tommy."

"What has he done now?"

"Done! why he is always doing something absurd. I told him this
morning, before I went out, to cut up all the wood in the yard."

"I'm sure he'd do anything you'd tell him," said Mrs. Smithers, in a
tone of conciliation; "he's only too anxious to please. I am positive
that he has been hard at work all day, for I heard him chopping and
sawing."

"Yes," answered Mr. Smithers, "he's chopped and sawed a little too
much. Not only did he cut up the wood, but he's pulled down the fences
on both sides of the yard, torn up the supports of the grapevine, and
even made firewood of the sawbuck."

"He's too full of zeal; in fact, the poor boy wants to do too much,"
Mrs. Smithers rejoined. "You oughtn't to blame him for that; as he
grows older he'll know better."

"I doubt it, ma'am. I doubt it very much," replied her husband, seating
himself before the stove.

Mr. Smithers was a tall, consequential man, in the prime of life, dark
in complexion and not bad looking.

His wife was a widow when he married her, and she had one son, the
Tommy of whom Smithers was now complaining.

Our friend was commonly called "Soft" Tommy, on account of the
simplicity of his nature and the numerous mistakes he was constantly
making.

His age was thirteen, and he was a pale, delicate-looking boy, with a
mild voice and a dreamy eye, fair hair, thin lips and an undecided sort
of mouth.

By her marriage with Mr. Smithers, Tommy's mother had two children, a
boy and a girl, who had respectively received the high-sounding names
of Harold Stamford Smithers and Alice Regina Smithers.

Mr. Smithers himself was a clerk in a New York dry-goods house, and
he resided in a quiet part of Jersey City, about half a mile from the
ferry.

He prided himself upon being high-toned, and above all things boasted
that he was master in his own house.

Poor little Mrs. Smithers knew this to her cost, for she received many
a scolding, especially on Tommy's account, without daring to "talk
back."

Smithers was very fond of his own two children, Harold Stamford and
Alice Regina, both of whom he spoiled dreadfully.

One was eleven, the other ten, and they were as disagreeable,
self-willed and conceited as overindulgence could make them.

Perhaps Smithers had a stepfather's dislike for Tommy.

One thing is certain, he frequently beat him and rarely said a word to
the others.

Mrs. Smithers always looked sad and worried, which was no wonder, as
she had to put up with a great deal from her husband.

She was a bad manager, was idle, and hated a disturbance of any kind,
so that the children might do almost anything without her interfering
with them.

"I hope you didn't beat the boy," remarked Mrs. Smithers, after a pause.

"He ran too fast for me," replied Smithers, "and took refuge in
neighbor Barker's house."

"He'll be all right there, and when he wants his supper he'll come in,"
said Mrs. Smithers.

"It's a pity we can't choose our neighbors!" exclaimed her husband.
"There's that Barker--he's an undertaker; it's a ghastly trade, and
I've remarked that Tommy is more friendly with Charley Barker, the
coffin maker's son, than he is with his own brother and sister."

"He must have some one to play with."

"Granted; but he needn't associate with those beneath him."

"The Barkers are hard-working and very respectable," Mrs. Smithers
ventured to observe.

"Oh, very!" answered Smithers, sarcastically; "very much so indeed. I'm
not saying anything against them. Still, they are not on a par with
us, and if your first husband was a mechanic and left you with an only
child, an infant at that, to go and work and die in the Nevada mines, I
am not supposed to share your tastes."

"Poor man," said Mrs. Smithers, "there was no work for him here. He
thought he would do so much better for all of us out West. He promised
to send for me and Tommy soon."

"Well, he died, and he couldn't help it," put in Smithers, who was in a
bad temper.

"We can't always do what we propose; and Thompson, my dear, dear first
husband, was as good as they make them."

"He was a bold and exceedingly vulgar kind of person," rejoined Mr.
Smithers, in a withering tone of voice.

"I'm sure Thompson was as genteel as--as Smithers," said his wife.

"Possibly he may have been in your estimation; but we will not discuss
the question. Be good enough to get my supper ready," replied Smithers,
with a grand wave of the arm.

"I'll do that with pleasure, only do make some allowance for Tommy--you
know he is subject to the chills."

"You give me a chill, talking so much. Where are Harold and Alice?"

"Gone visiting."

"Oh, yes. I forgot that I gave them permission this morning to visit
the Macphersons. Highly respectable family, the Macphersons. I will go
and bring them home in a couple of hours' time. The ground is slippery
with the frozen snow, and they might fall and hurt themselves."

Mrs. Smithers sighed.

She wished her husband would be as kind to Tommy as he was to Harold
Stamford and Alice Regina.

Smithers had taken the trouble to go to Fulton Market and buy six dozen
oysters, which he wanted roasted, and his wife went to get them ready
for supper.

Meanwhile Tommy, accompanied by Mr. Barker, the undertaker, entered the
room.

Tommy hung behind at the door, for he was afraid of his father, but the
undertaker, who was a fiery, shock-headed little man, free and easy in
his manner, and fond of his glass and his pipe, walked right in.

"Good-evening, neighbor," he exclaimed. "I've brought your boy back."

"Ah! Barker! Pray take a seat," replied Smithers, who, though he
disliked the undertaker, was secretly afraid of him.

"I can stand."

"Sit down, I say; you're just in time for supper. Oysters from Fulton
Market. First-class, I tell you."

"No, no," said Barker. "I only came here with Tommy because he was
afraid to come alone. You won't lick him, now?"

"I don't see what you have to do with it, really, Barker."

"He did not understand about cutting up the wood."

"That is the trouble of it; he never will understand," replied
Smithers, with a complacent smile.

"He's a good boy enough, and he and my Charley get along together first
rate."

"Stay to supper, and we'll talk this thing over."

"Well, I don't mind if I do, though it's more for Tommy's sake than for
anything else," answered Barker.

"Tommy, our neighbor is right," said his father. "You probably did
not mean to do wrong, and I will not whip you this time. Now, you can
go down to your mother and see if there is anything you can do in the
preparation of supper."

"Yes, sir, certainly, sir," responded Tommy, his face beaming with
smiles, as he saw that Barker had got him off the thrashing he expected.

His father kept a rattan in the corner of the room, which he devoted to
Tommy's sole use, it never being employed upon the favored persons of
Harold Stamford and Alice Regina.

"Now, Smithers," said Barker, "you ought to let up on that boy."

"Why should I, when he's the fool of the family?"

"He can't help it."

"Will you admit he's a fool?"

"I guess he's a little soft, that's all, and your severity makes him no
better."

"Oh, pshaw!" said Smithers. "Spare the rod and spoil the child."

"That's played out."

"Since when?"

"Long ago. Try kindness."

Mr. Smithers grew rather red in the face.

"I have every respect for you," he remarked, looking sideways at
the stove. "But I don't see why you should interfere with my family
affairs."

"Because I like the lad. Why don't you apprentice him to some one?"

"To whom?"

"To me, if you like. I'll take him."

Mr. Smithers laughed in a tremulous manner.

"What!" he exclaimed. "Apprentice him to an undertaker?"

"Why not? You might require his services sooner than you expect. If
ours is not such a respectable trade as the dry-goods business, we are
as much in request as you are. You clothe the living, we clothe the
dead."

"I couldn't hear of such a thing," replied Smithers. "Besides, the boy
hasn't finished his schooling. He knows nothing."

Tommy re-entered the room and spread a snow-white cloth over the table.

"There's a little man," said Barker, encouragingly. "What a nice
tablecloth."

"'Tain't a tablecloth," replied Tommy. "It's a sheet. Mother says the
clothes ain't out of the wash yet."

Mr. Smithers looked disgusted.

"Didn't I tell you he was a fool?" he exclaimed.

"He's only simple," replied Barker.

"What does he know? He's going to school next week, and I'll bet he
can't tell you what he wants for books."

"I'll ask him," said Barker. "Come here, Tommy, won't you?"

Tommy approached him without any hesitation, and showed none of that
fear which he exhibited when spoken to by his stepfather.

"How much money do you want for school books, Tom?" asked Barker.

"None at all," replied Tommy.

"Why not?"

"I don't like skule," said Tommy, with his hands behind his back.

"But you've got to go, and what will it cost?"

"About four dollars, sir."

"How's that?" demanded Mr. Smithers, sharply. "I bought Harold
Stamford's books yesterday, and they didn't come to that. Name the
books."

"Lemme see," answered Tommy. "Singin' book, 'rithmetic, jography."

"Well," said his stepfather, "the first is sixty cents, the second
seventy-five, the third a dollar and twenty. I insist upon knowing how
you make it out."

He took up the cane which stood in the corner and held it up
threateningly.

"Don't hit me and I'll tell you," replied Tommy. "There's half a dollar
for a new bat, a dollar for a pair of skates and a quarter for candy."

Mr. Barker burst out laughing.

"I tell you he's smart," he exclaimed, "and you can't punish him for
telling the truth."

"I won't this time," replied Mr. Smithers. "Yet I don't half like this
sort of thing. Go an' give the horse his supper, Tom."

"Yes, sir," replied Tommy.

He hurried off as if he was glad to get away.




CHAPTER II.

HOW SMITHERS FOUND CONSOLATION.


While Tommy was gone Mrs. Smithers came up and laid the table, for
although her husband was high-toned, he did not choose to keep a
servant.

In ten minutes Tommy came back.

"Did you feed the horse?" asked Mr. Smithers.

"I gave him the supper," replied Tommy; "but he wouldn't touch it."

"That's strange," remarked Smithers.

"I think that plug of yours is ailing," said Barker, "and it's a wonder
to me why you keep him."

"Well, you see," replied Smithers, "I got him cheap, and having a good
barn at the back, I thought he'd be handy to take to the ferry, and to
go out with Sundays and holidays."

"That's so."

"Tommy," said Smithers, "what did you give him?"

The boy was about to answer when Mrs. Smithers rushed into the room.

"Where's the oysters?" she almost screamed.

"How should I know?" replied her husband. "Didn't I give them to you to
cook?"

"You did, and I roasted them beautifully, took the top shells off, and
left them on the stove in a big dish, while I went upstairs to tidy up."

Mr. Smithers bent a severe glance on Tommy.

"What did you give the horse?" he asked.

"The supper," replied Tommy.

"What?"

"The oysters. Thought that was what you meant."

Mrs. Smithers clasped her hands together, and uttered a cry.

"Do horses eat oysters?" demanded Smithers, furiously.

"How could I tell?" answered Tommy. "I've heard of donkeys eating
thistles."

"What would you like to eat, you donkey?"

"A mild tongue," said Tommy.

"How do you mean, you idiot?"

"Do be quiet, dear," cried Mrs. Smithers.

"Am I to be insulted by this idiot of yours, madam?" thundered Smithers.

The wife raised her apron to her eyes and began to cry.

Smithers seized Tommy by the ear and pulled it, exclaiming:

"What do you mean? Are you luny?"

"I meant a beef tongue, not too much salted," replied Tommy.

"What did you do with the oysters?"

"Won't you lick me, if I tell you?"

"N-no."

"When I found the horse wouldn't look at them, I called Charley Barker,
and we polished them off between us."

Mr. Smithers let go of Tommy's ear and looked at him ferociously.

"You young villain!" he exclaimed; "I'll skin you some of these days."

At this Mrs. Smithers burst into a fresh torrent of grief.

"Oh, that I should have to hear my boy called such a name!" she sobbed.

"Silence, woman!" roared her husband.

She sank into a chair, exhausted, and redoubled her groans and tears.

"See here," exclaimed Barker, "I'll send for some more. There's no harm
done."

"No, you won't," replied Smithers. "You're just as bad as the boy. I
could see you snickering all the time, and it's the last chance you'll
have of coming into my house."

"I can get out of it," said Barker.

"Git!"

This was said in such a contemptuous manner that Barker had no
alternative.

Putting on his hat, he went.

When he was gone, Smithers attempted to do what he had not dared to
undertake while the undertaker was in the room.

Seizing his rattan, he rushed upon Tommy.

His mother threw herself between them, and Tommy escaped the intended
blows, but his stepfather chased him around the room, uttering frantic
cries.

The door being open, the boy thought it would be only prudent to make
his escape.

"You rascal! you dunce!" cried Smithers. "The idea of giving oysters to
horses! I'll be even with you!"

Tommy banged the door after him, and his stepfather, having put his
hand on it, got badly crushed.

He withdrew his hand covered with blood, and as he sucked his fingers
he danced an original fandango on the floor.

At this moment the door opened and a boy's form appeared.

Blinded with rage and smarting with pain, Smithers struck out with the
cane.

"Oh, pa!" cried the boy; "what have I done? It's me, Harold. Look out,
or you'll hit Ally."

Mr. Smithers groaned again.

In the passion of the moment he struck his own child, Harold, who, with
his sister, had just returned from the party.

"My darling!" he exclaimed, "I'm truly sorry. It was that stupid, that
silly, that insane beast, Tommy, I meant to chastise."

"What's he done, pa?"

"Don't ask me. Maria, I'm going down the street, to the drug store, to
have my hand dressed."

"You shouldn't be so violent," she said.

"Just keep that boy out of my sight when I come back, that's all."

"I can't help his making mistakes."

"I'll kill or cure him, anyway."

"When shall you be back?"

"I don't know."

"Don't be long. I'm tired and hungry. We've had no supper," said Mrs.
Smithers.

"I shall get mine outside."

"What am I to do? I've had none."

"You may thank your precious brat for that, madam. Give oysters to a
horse! Oh, my, I'll never get over it!" cried Mr. Smithers.

Wrapping his injured hand in a handkerchief, he rushed from the house,
leaving his wife alone with Harold Stamford and Alice Regina.

"What is the matter with pa, ma, dear?" asked Alice.

"Oh, don't bother me," said Mrs. Smithers, swaying herself to and fro
in the rocking-chair.

"Wasn't he mad?" remarked Harold. "I never saw him so before. It was
all that Tommy's doing, I'll bet."

"Go up to bed, both of you," said Mrs. Smithers.

"I won't for one," exclaimed Alice. "Will you, Harold?"

"Not much," replied the boy.

"Your father will punish you when he comes back."

"No he won't--he likes us too much, and we don't care for you, ma, when
pa isn't here," said Alice.

Mrs. Smithers sighed again, but made no further effort to get the
children to bed.

She knew they were their father's spoiled pets, and that it was
useless, with her weak mind and undecided character, to attempt to
control them in his absence.

So, while she sat silently crying to herself, Harold Stamford and Alice
Regina got out the board and amused themselves with a game of checkers.

It was past midnight when Smithers returned, with rather an unsteady
gait, and a glaziness about his eyes, which, taken in connection with
the huskiness of his voice, led his wife to suppose that he had been
drinking.

"This is a nice time to come home," she said, with more than her usual
boldness.

"Very nicesh timesh," he answered, hiccoughing.

"Where have you been?"

"Looking for boysh they call Shoft Tommy--hic--that'sh where I've been."

"Did you find him?"

"No."

"Well, he's not come in," said Mrs. Smithers, "and it's my opinion that
your harshness has driven him to some rash act."

"Run away, do you think?" exclaimed Smithers. "Oh, dear,
no--hic--Tommy's too good a judge of when he'sh well off. Light
my--hic--candlesh, and I'll go to bed."

Smithers was accommodated with a light, and in some mysterious manner
retired without breaking his neck or setting the house on fire.

Harold and Alice followed their father's example, but Mrs. Smithers
remained up till the small hours, waiting for Tommy to come back.

The fire in the stove went out, and the daylight peeped through the
shades. Still the anxious mother watched.

When Tommy managed to escape from his father's anger, he ran to the
back of Mr. Barker's house, where he knew he was sure of protection and
shelter.

In the kitchen he found Charles Barker, a boy about his own age.

"Hello, Tommy," exclaimed Charley; "weren't those oysters bully?"

"I'm afraid to go home, through them," answered Tommy. "It seems as if
I made another mistake. They weren't for the horse's supper at all. I
wish I was a little smarter. Father will knock the life out of me when
he catches me."

"Let him sleep over it," said Charley, "that's what I do when pop's mad
with me. Sleep out all night, and let him go to business before you
show up."

"Where can I stay?"

"In our house. You can go up in the carpenter's shop and sleep
in one of the coffins. I'd give you half my bed, but father's so
funny-tempered he might lick us both, if he found that I'd kept you
out."

"That's so; and for want of a better roost, I'll do as you say."

"Come at once, for I hear pop upstairs, going on at mamma as he always
does when he's in a bad temper."

Charley went into the yard, followed by his friend Tommy, on whom he
thought he was conferring a great favor in allowing him to sleep in a
coffin.

The snow was lying about in heaps, and the idea that it would be great
fun to snowball somebody at once struck Charley.

"Say!" he exclaimed, "let's go down street and snowball Darky John."

"All right," replied Tommy.

"You fire at him, and I'll make a grab at his candy and divvy with you
afterward."

"Just's you say."

Darky John was a good-tempered colored man who kept a candy store.

The boys were always playing him some trick or another, and, indeed,
they made his life a misery and a burden to him.

As usual, Soft Tommy did not see the drift of his friend's proposal.

He ran the risk of getting all the blows, and Charley all the candy.

A few minutes' walk brought them to Darky John's. He was standing
behind his counter, and was suddenly roused from the contemplation of
a batch of red and blue-colored sugar pigs by the forcible contact of a
snowball with his nose.

"Ki!" he said, "dat's too rough for dis chile to stand. Who fire dat
ball?"

"Give him a couple more, and make him come out after you," whispered
Charley.

Tommy threw two more balls, one of which raised a commotion among
the bottles on a shelf, the other broke on John's ear, and its flaky
particles streamed down his neck.

"Fore de lord, dat's too much. What I gwine to do now? If I cotch dat
boy, I'll have to make him feel mighty sick!" exclaimed Darky John.

Catching sight of Tommy he ran out of the shop and chased him up the
street.

Charley, meanwhile, entered the store and filled his pockets with
candy.




CHAPTER III.

FUN ENDS IN TRAGEDY.


Fat and lazy, Nigger John did not succeed in overtaking Tommy, and at
length gave up the chase, vowing vengeance upon him when he got him in
his power.

The boys met at the corner of the street and divided the candy.

"Now, what's the next move?" said Charley. "Do you want to creep into
your deal box?"

"I don't care," replied Tommy, with a shiver.

"You needn't be afraid. The old man's got no stiff up in the shop just
now."

"It's horrid, though, to go among coffins, and your father does keep
the dead bodies there sometimes."

"Of course he does. I've seen half a dozen at a time waiting to be
boxed up, but they can't hurt you. They're harmless enough; it's
nothing when you're used to it."

"Anyway," said Tommy, "it's better than going home to be licked."

"I'll bet yer," replied Charley.

While sucking their candy and talking they were approached by another
boy.

"Hello, Charley!" exclaimed the newcomer; "was that you snowballing
Nigger John?"

"I never give myself away, Swanny Marsh," replied Charley.

"He's awful mad. I wanted to sell him two pigeons for candy and he
wouldn't deal."

"I'll trade with you."

"What'll you give?"

"My jackknife, a handful of candies and a dozen marbles."

"Can't do it," replied Swanny Marsh; "they're worth more."

"You can keep them," said Charley.

"I'll tell you what I'd like to do with them," continued the owner of
the pigeons.

"What's that?"

"There's a lecture on to-night in Julian Hall. I went there and got a
seat up in the gallery. Just under me there was a man with a bald head,
and I dropped a marble down right on top of him. Jimanetti! you should
have heard him howl and seen him jump!"

"Did they tumble you?"

"Like my bad luck, they did. A mean cuss saw me do it, and I was
bounced. Now, I'll let you have the pigeons, if you'll throw them up
through the door of the hall."

"What's the fun of that?"

"They'll fly all around and put the gas out, and we'll holler 'Fire!'
like fury. It'll be all a lark to see the folks run for the door,"
replied Marsh.

"Good boy, Swanny!" said Charley.

"Will you do it?"

"Tommy will, won't you, Tommy?" exclaimed Charley.

"I don't mind," answered Tommy, in his usual good-natured way.

"That settles it," said Swanny Marsh. "Here are the birds."

He produced a paper bag, in which were two full-grown pigeons.

"Come on to Julian Hall. Open the door a little way and let the birds
fly," exclaimed Charley Barker. "It'll be such fun."

Tommy thought so, too, but he did not stop to consider the matter
thoroughly in all its bearings.

This is the trouble with most boys. They do not stop to think, and,
acting as creatures of impulse, they often do mischievous things, which
produce disastrous results, without meaning any real harm.

Reaching the hall, which contained about three hundred people, who were
listening to an instructive lecture, Tommy opened the door a little
way.

He attracted no notice.

Then he opened the paper bag, and the birds flew out among the audience.

Rushing hither and thither, the pigeons, by the motion of their wings,
soon extinguished the lights. The hall was wrapped in darkness.

Meanwhile Charley Barker and Swanny Marsh cried "Fire! fire!" with all
their might, and Tommy joined in the din.

Not knowing how or why the lights had been put out, the audience became
panic-stricken.

They made a rush for the doorway, which speedily became blocked.

Now a terrible scene ensued, which the boys were far from intending, or
even anticipating.

The doorway became jammed with a fighting, struggling mass of humanity,
yelling, shrieking and pushing to escape.

Delicate women and children were trampled under foot, and the darkness
made the scene more dreadful.

There was only one door to the hall, which was all the worse for the
people.

The three boys left off crying "Fire! fire!" when they saw the people
coming out.

They grew frightened at the terrible uproar, and with blanched faces
stood on the outskirts of a quickly increasing crowd.

The police came up and rendered effectual assistance.

In a quarter of an hour the hall was cleared, and beyond bruises and
cuts, none of the grown people were seriously injured.

Some women were carried out fainting and bleeding; but one sight caused
a thrill of horror to run through the assembling crowd.

The police had picked up a little boy--dead!

He was a tiny little fellow, about seven years old, and as they placed
the lifeless body on a shutter, many a strong man felt inclined to shed
tears.

This was the only one killed.

"He's a goner," whispered Charley to his companions. "Who'd have
thought that?"

"It's rough," replied Swanny Marsh. "Wonder who's young one he is."

"Don't know."

"Oh!" said Tommy, "I'm so sorry we did it."

"So'm I, now," answered Marsh.

The shutter, with the youthful corpse upon it, was taken up by four
stout men.

"Where are they going to take it?" asked Charley of a man in the crowd.

"Up to Barker's, the undertaker's," was the reply.

"Whose boy is it?"

"They say it's Marsh's; him as lives up the avenue. Little Tony Marsh,
I heard them call him, and they won't take him home, 'cos the mother's
sick, and the shock might kill her."

These were cruel words for Swanny to hear, but he did hear them, and
they sank into his heart like lead.

"Oh, God!" he murmured, "I have killed my little brother."

Then his lips became whiter than his cheeks, and he would have fallen
to the ground had not Charley Barker caught him.

"Say, Tommy," exclaimed Charley, "this is awful!"

"What'll I do?" asked Tommy.

"Say nothing to anybody. Watch your chance to get into the shop, and
hide away in a coffin, as I told you."

"But how about poor Swanny Marsh?"

"I'll take him home. Don't bother yourself about him."

"All right."

"Don't forget; you're not to squeal. I must post Swanny when he comes
to. If you don't look out we shall all get sent up."

Tommy nodded his head, as if he quite comprehended the warning.

He walked sadly away, and Charley, in time, with some difficulty, got
Swanny home.

The state of affairs at home can be easily imagined--a hysterical
mother, a father frenzied with grief, one little bed empty, its
occupant gone forever, and the house of mourning, desolation and
despair.

But crushed with grief as he was, and overwhelmingly shocked, Swanny
Marsh did not say anything.

He kept the horrid secret locked up in his breast.




CHAPTER IV.

A NIGHT IN A COFFIN.


Tommy watched the undertaker's house from a distance, saw the body of
the dead child taken in, waited till the crowd dispersed, and then
crept into the house by the back way.

The room in which the coffins were stored was up one flight of stairs.

No one saw him go up.

He pushed the door open, and the pale moonlight streamed in on piles
of coffins, some made of common pine and others of handsomely polished
wood.

These latter were the elegant caskets of the rich.

Pieces of wood and carpenters' tools lay all about, but what arrested
Tommy's attention was a white cloth.

This was stretched over a plainly-made coffin.

Actuated by an irresistible impulse, he approached and lifted the cloth.

A convulsive shudder ran through his limbs.

He had disclosed the pallid features of the dead boy, the poor
unfortunate who had come to his untimely end through the thoughtless
joke of his friends and himself.

It was dreadful to have to sleep in the same room with the dead.

"I'll put it out of sight," said he to himself.

Lifting up the coffin containing the dead child, he hid it under the
carpenter's bench.

It was a cold night, and he kept the sheet.

There was a boy's coffin on the floor, and he crept in.

It just fitted him.

Drawing the white cloth or sheet over himself, he soon fell asleep, in
spite of the dismal and ghastly surroundings.

An hour later Barker, the undertaker, entered.

"I guess I'll just nail a lid over that 'stiff,'" he muttered. "I've
known cats to come in here and gnaw the hands and faces. There'll be an
inquest to-morrow, and it'll be best to have it look decent."

Taking up a board, he placed it over the coffin in which Soft Tommy was
sleeping.

Then he drove in half a dozen long nails.

The sound of the nailing roused Tommy, who tried to cry out, but the
lid was so close to his face that he could not.

He felt a sense of suffocation.

In vain he endeavored to raise an alarm.

A nameless horror took possession of him. It was worse than a
nightmare, or anything that can be produced by physical suffering.

It was the fear that he was going to be buried alive--that, in fact, he
was already nailed up in his casket and on his way to the silent tomb.

"That fixes it," he heard Mr. Barker say. "Now I'll go to bed."

"Mr. Bar-Barker," Tommy strove to say, but his tongue clove to the roof
of his mouth.

The words died on his lips.

A dizziness came over him, his head seemed to swim, and he lost
consciousness.

The undertaker had nailed him in the coffin, and he was alone with the
dead.

       *       *       *       *       *

Charley Barker went to sleep, after leaving Tommy, but he woke up with
a bad dream, in which he had fancied that his friend had fallen into a
furnace and was rapidly being reduced to a cinder.

He had witnessed the horrid scene distinctly in his dream, the boy's
arms were outstretched as if begging help and protection, while his
plaintive voice rang in his ears.

A cold sweat broke out all over Charley, as he started up in bed, and
such was the impression that the dream made on him, that he determined
to go to the carpenters' room and satisfy himself with his own eyes
that all was right.

It was fortunate indeed for Tommy that Charley had his dream, for had
he been left till morning in his confused and cramped position, he
would undoubtedly have been a corpse.

Hastily slipping on his clothes, Charley crept out of the room and
stood a moment at the head of the stairs to assure himself that all was
quiet.

Mr. and Mrs. Barker had retired to rest, and the house was consequently
as still as the grave; so he boldly made his way to the place where he
had left Tommy.

Striking a match, he lighted a lantern, which cast a lurid light over
the pile of coffins, and, to his astonishment, perceived that the
wooden casket into which his friend had crawled was nailed down.

"Dad's been up here," he muttered, "and I shouldn't wonder if he hain't
taken the living for the dead."

Seizing a screw-driver, he began to force off the lid, finding his
judgment correct, for there was Tommy Smithers, breathing heavily, with
the blood oozing from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears.

"By thunder," he cried, "that was a lucky dream of mine. I'm only just
in time; but better late than never; a good motto, and he yet lives."

With some difficulty he lifted Tommy out of the coffin, and placed him
on the floor, when the cold air soon revived him.

Opening his eyes, he looked curiously around him at the strange
surroundings, like one emerging from a trance, but when his eyes fell
upon Charley, his memory seemed to come back to him, and he smiled
faintly.

Presently he sat up and said:

"I guess your father nailed me down, thinking I was Tony Marsh. But how
did you come to know it?"

"It was through a dream I had," replied Charley.

"A dream," repeated Tommy, in surprise.

"Yes. I thought you were in a fiery furnace, and called to me for help.
The dream was so clear that I couldn't sleep until I had come to see if
you were all right."

"Thank you," said Tommy, grasping his hand. "You have saved my life."

He was trembling with excitement and shivering with the cold, so that
Charley concluded to offer him half his bed.

"Come and turn in with me," he exclaimed. "I'll stand a thrashing from
father. You can't rest here."

"No, indeed," answered Tommy, with a shudder. "I came too near dying
here to like the idea. Wouldn't it have been horrible if I had gone to
the grave that way?"

"I'll bet you. Wait while I put poor little Tony in the box and fix the
lid, or father will think something."

He took hold of Tony, and was about to place him in the coffin when he
dropped the body.

"What's the mat-matter?" asked Tommy, whose teeth were chattering.

"He's warm yet," answered Charley.

"What you say?" cried Tommy. "It can't be, because the doctor said he
was a gone coon."

"I don't give a straw for what the doctor said," answered Charley,
going on his knees and putting his ear to the boy's chest. "He's
breathing," he continued, after a slight pause, "and of course he can't
be dead. This is a night of miracles. Oh! ain't I just glad, that's
all. Swanny was awfully cut up, and so were we, to think that our joke
should have killed Tony."

"What'll we do?" inquired Tommy.

"Tell you what'll we do. You help me to carry him, and we'll put him
between us in my bed, and warm him."

Tommy was now strong enough to render the required assistance, and the
boys succeeded in getting the supposed corpse into bed.

There were no bones broken in Tony's body, though he was considerably
crushed and bruised.

It was an undoubted fact that he lived, for in a couple of hours he was
so much recovered that he was able to speak.

"Is that you, Swanny?" he asked.

The little fellow was accustomed to room with his elder brother, and
supposed they were in bed together.

Tommy had dropped off into a deep slumber, but Charley Barker was awake.

"No, Tony; it's me, Charley Barker. You know me, don't you?" he replied.

"Why, certainly. But why ain't I in my own house? What has happened?
I'm so sore all over."

"You got hurt when the people at the lecture had a scare, and Swanny
and I thought you'd be best here."

"Does mother know?"

"Oh, yes! Try and get to sleep, there's a good little fellow. Swanny
will be here good and early in the morning."

"I shall be glad to sleep, my head aches so, and I feel quite dizzy,
while my body is just as if I'd been beaten all over. Good-night,
Charley; it was very kind of you to take so much care of me."

Then the little fellow dozed off, and Charley Barker sank to sleep with
the sweet consciousness of having saved two lives that night by his
lucky dream.




CHAPTER V.

THE MAN WITH ONE EYE.


Charley Barker was up at daylight next day, and after washing the blood
from Tony's face, which was much cut and disfigured, he hurried off to
Swanny to acquaint him with the good news.

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Marsh had gone to bed at all, for they were
mourning the loss of their darling, and, on being admitted to the
house, Charley at once acquainted them with what had occurred.

They could scarcely believe in the reality of such joyful tidings, but
started immediately for the undertaker's.

Mr. Barker, as we have said, was a rough-and-ready, fiery sort of man,
who at times did not attempt to restrain his temper.

The father and mother had gone alone to his house, as Charley had
stayed behind to talk with Swanny.

It was about seven o'clock, and Barker was not up.

When he heard a furious ringing at his bell he jumped out of bed in a
passion, saying to his wife, who was also aroused by the noise:

"I'll teach those fools, whoever they are, not to ring my bell as if
the house was on fire, dern me if I don't!"

Advancing to the window, he threw it open, and his temper was not
improved by the rush of cold air, which struck a chill to his bones
after leaving his nice, warm bed a moment before.

"Be-low!" he shouted. "What in thunder do you want?"

The tassel of his nightcap fluttered in the cold blast, and particles
of the crisp, frozen snow flew up in his face.

"Give me my child," replied Mr. Marsh.

"Oh, it's you, Marsh," said the undertaker, in a milder tone. "What's
the use of asking for the body so early? You'll have it in a neat
casket about the middle of the day. I can't work at night, besides, I
didn't know you were in such an all-fired hurry."

"It isn't the body we want, it's the child."

"Comes to the same thing, and you've got to wait."

"Open the door and let us in."

"No, I'm derned if I do. Come at a proper time," growled the undertaker.

"For Heaven's sake, take pity on us!" cried Mrs. Marsh. "Will not a
mother's tears move you?"

"Not by a bucketful, marm."

"If you don't give up Tony, I'll get a warrant and have you arrested,"
roared Mr. Marsh. "Aren't you an inhuman scoundrel? Want to kill him, I
guess, for fear you'll lose the job."

"Kill him! What do you mean? Oh, pshaw, you're both crazy!" replied
Barker, in a tone of deep disgust. "Go home, and don't come fooling
around here no more."

"Look here, Barker," exclaimed Mr. Marsh, "I'll----"

His further utterance was cut short by the sudden and violent slamming
of the window by the irate undertaker, who, after consigning the
interrupters of his repose to perdition, crept once more into bed, and
pulling the clothes round his cold shoulders, prepared to sleep again.

At this moment Charley and Swanny came running up.

"Won't dad let you in?" asked Charley.

"No," replied Mr. Marsh. "This is an outrage. I shall go for an
officer."

"Don't do nothing of the sort. Come in with me at the back door. Pop
ain't to blame; he don't know anything about the stiff coming to life,"
answered Charley.

The rage of Mr. and Mrs. Marsh moderated at once, and they followed
their conductor into the house through the rear. Presently they were
overjoyed at seeing their darling.

Barker was roused, everything was explained, and Tony was carried home
by his anxious parents.

Tommy also sought his domicile, finding his father and mother in the
kitchen.

"If that boy takes to stopping out nights," he heard Mr. Smithers say,
"he can stay away altogether, for what I care."

"You forget," replied his mother, "that it was your injustice and
ungovernable temper that drove him out."

"He's such a fool, madam."

"Can he help being a little soft? Besides, he's quite young yet."

At this juncture Tommy came forward.

"Here I am, mother," he said.

"Where have you been, sir?" demanded Mr. Smithers.

Tommy related the incidents of the night, which were pronounced to be
very wonderful.

"Well, I'll overlook it this time," said his stepfather; "but don't
let it happen again, or I'll take you into the woodshed and welt you
considerable."

Mrs. Smithers caught him in her arms, crying:

"Oh, my darling! I should never have got over it if you had been buried
in that coffin."

"Here, stop that blubbering!" exclaimed Smithers. "Give me another cup
of coffee; I must be off, or I'll be late at the store!" And soon after
he hastened off to the ferry.

There was a ring at the bell. Mrs. Smithers dried her tears, and added:

"See who that is."

Tommy opened the door, and a man, poorly dressed, with a worn
expression on his face, which was weather-beaten and battered, stood on
the stoop.

What made him more remarkable was the fact that he had only one eye. No
attempt was made to conceal the defect, which might have been remedied
by one of glass, and the vacant space made him look even more homely
and ghastly.

"Does Mrs. Smithers reside here?" he inquired, in a voice harsh and
hoarse through drink and exposure to the weather.

"Yes," replied Tommy.

At this moment Mrs. Smithers raised her head, took one long look at
the stranger, and uttering a piercing shriek, would have fallen to the
ground had not Tommy rushed forward and supported her with his arm.

The man with one eye smiled grimly, and showing no outward concern,
stepped into the house, closing the door after him.

"Let go," he said. "Where's the parlor?"

"That door to the left," answered Tommy.

"Open it."

Mrs. Smithers had fainted, but the stranger took her in his arms as if
she had been a child.

"What's your game?" asked Tommy. "That's my mother."

"I know it," was the calm reply.

"Don't touch her, you dirty-looking tramp!" continued Tommy. "How dare
you?"

"Because I am your father, and she is my wife."

At this remarkable and unexpected reply, Tommy opened his eyes wide in
amazement.

"Thought my father was dead?" he said.

"No matter what any of you thought, I am alive and I am here. Open the
door."

There was an air of authority about this man who claimed to be the Mr.
Thompson whom Mrs. Smithers had first married, and Tommy no longer
refused to obey him.

He opened the door of the room in which a good fire was burning, and
the stranger carried the woman in, laying her on a sofa, and chafing
her hands so as to circulate the blood and restore her to consciousness.

Tommy could scarcely realize the fact that this rough, ragged and ugly
man was the father of whom he had heard his mother speak so often.

Young as he was when his father went West--only to die, as was
reported and supposed--he remembered a very different sort of person.

In the course of a few minutes, during which Tommy remained standing
near the closed door, in an awestruck sort of manner, Mrs. Smithers
became herself again.

Her mind was clear, and the passing faintness having gone away, she
looked the stranger in the face.

"Thomas," she said, softly, "what is the meaning of this? I heard from
one of your friends that you were dead."

"All thought me so," he answered. "I was in a wild part of the country,
where I had gone to make money for you and our child----"

A sickly smile overspread her delicate countenance.

"You left me to starve, and the child, too," she interrupted.

"Let that be as it may," he rejoined, "I went away. You can put what
construction you like on my actions."

"Well, go on," she said, in a tone of resignation.

"I'll admit," he continued, "that I was a drunkard and a gambler; but
I wasn't that when I left you. I intended to do you good. A barroom
quarrel nearly resulted in my death. I was badly shot, badly kicked and
lost one of my eyes."

Mrs. Smithers covered her face with her hands, as if she could conjure
up the horrible scene and wished to shut it out.

"How have you been living since?" she asked.

"Heaven only knows. A friendly Indian took care of me till I got well,
and then I waited till I could get square with my enemy."

"And he?"

"I slew him as I would a dog," said the man, Thompson. "He begged for
his life like a whining girl, but I had him in a tight place, and he
died by my hand."

"Horrible!" she muttered.

"Not at all. Didn't he disfigure me? I tell you that out West we
consider ourselves entitled to satisfaction in cases of this kind."

"Why did you come here, Thomas?"

"To see you. I found out that you had married again, and knowing that
you were my property, I thought I could make something out of you."

"Your property?" she repeated.

"Why, certainly. Does not a wife belong to her husband?"

Mrs. Smithers groaned.

"Do you wish to destroy me?" She asked.

"Oh, dear, no! I'll own up that you made a mistake in marrying me--that
I was always a bad husband, and that you were better without than with
me. Further than that, I will confess that I don't blame you for taking
the first chance that offered after you heard of my death, because you
had to keep yourself and the child."

"Then why persecute me, Thomas?" inquired Mrs. Smithers, raising her
moist eyes to his.

"Simply because I think that I can get something out of you. I am poor;
'dead broke' won't express my condition."

"And if you can levy blackmail upon me, you will be satisfied?"

"For a time, yes."




CHAPTER VI.

THE CONFIDENCE GAME.


"You never were a good man," said Mrs. Smithers, looking down at the
floor and moving her foot restlessly, "but I didn't think you would
have become so bad as you have. However, I shall have to make a
compromise with you. Name your terms."

"Now you're talking," answered Thompson, with a smile of satisfaction.
"In the first place, I want all the money and jewelry you can lay your
hands on. You can say the house was robbed."

"Yes, you shall have all," Mrs. Smithers replied.

"Secondly, I must have Tommy."

"For what?"

"No business of yours. If you don't let Tommy come with me, I will see
Mr. Smithers, and upset the whole caboodle. Don't you forget it."

"You want to make him as bad as yourself, I know you do," she said,
impetuously, "and I will not let him go."

"All right. I'll stay here till Smithers comes back from the dry-goods
store where he is employed, and the chances are that he will kick the
pair of you out when he hears what I have to say."

"Is this manly or just, Thomas?" she asked.

"Neither one nor the other; but I have to do something in New York this
time, or I shall be sent up to the island for the winter," replied
Thompson, looking piercingly at her with his one eye. "Take your
choice."

"Come here, Tommy," said his mother.

"What is it, mamma?" he asked, taking her hand tenderly.

"Will you go with your father?"

"Yes, to save you, mamma," answered Tommy.

"Then go, and God be with you," she said, and rising, went to a
handsome bureau, which she opened with a key.

Taking a roll of bills and some jewelry from a secret drawer, she
handed them to the stranger, adding:

"They are all I have."

The man's eyes gloated over the plunder which he counted, exclaiming:

"Twenty dollars, three rings, a bracelet and a pair of diamond rings.
Little enough, but I will make it do."

Covering her face with her hands, the weak-minded and unfortunate woman
shed an abundance of tears.

"Come on," said Thompson to Tommy; "you're mine now. D'ye hear--or do
you want a gentle reminder from the toe of my boot?"

"You needn't kick me," replied Tommy. "What I say I never go back on."

Bestowing an affectionate look on his mother, he followed the stranger
from the house, and in silence they made their way to the ferry, by
means of which they crossed over to New York.

Thompson took him to a house in Dey Street, where he boarded, and when
they were alone in a room, he lighted his pipe, and began to talk.

"How do you suppose I get my living, sonny?" he inquired.

"Best way you know how, I guess," answered Tommy.

"Precisely. Sometimes I am a gambler, at others a thief, now and then a
monte man; but here, where I am not known by the police, I mean to work
the confidence game."

"How's that done?" asked Tommy.

"It's as simple as playing policy. We'll go out presently and look for
a victim. I can always tell a countryman. When I point him out to you,
it will be your job to go up to him and say:

"How are you, Mr. Jennings?"

"But suppose his name isn't Jennings?"

"Of course it isn't," replied Thompson, "and he'll say: 'My name is not
that, you've made a mistake.' Then you say: 'Didn't my father work for
yours in Buffalo,' and he'll most likely answer by telling his real
name and address, after which you beg his pardon, and fall back to tell
me who he is."

"What then?"

"I shall go up to him, you keeping in the background, accost him by
his real name, and worm myself into his confidence, the end of which
will be that I shall get all his money and valuables out of him in some
saloon."

"That's cheating," said Tommy, bluntly.

"I know it's a State's prison offense; but a man must live, and I'm
too far gone to work now," replied Thompson. Putting down his pipe,
and replacing his hat on his head, he told Tommy to accompany him to
Broadway to make his first attempt at the game of confidence.

Thompson was not yet acquainted with Tommy's aptitude for making
blunders, or he would not have been so pleased at getting him as a
decoy for unwary strangers.

They walked on till they came near Grand Street, where Thompson saw an
individual upon whom he thought he could practice.

He was tall and gaunt, with a restless, inquisitive air, looking into
shop windows, and staring about him as if everything was new and he
wanted to take in all he could during a limited stay in the city.

"Here's the bloke!" exclaimed Thompson. "Go and do what I told you, and
leave me to play him for a sucker."

"All right," answered Tommy.

The boy approached the stranger, and pulling his sleeve, accosted him,
saying:

"How are you, Mr. Jennings?"

The man stopped abruptly, and with a sharp, clear eye scanned his face.

Instead of answering as Tommy expected, he exclaimed:

"How long have you been at this game, bub?"

"Not long, sir," replied Tommy, in his simple way. "I only started on
it just now."

"As I thought. Who put you up to it?"

"That man behind, sir, who is leaning against the lamp-post."

"If I told you my name you were to fall back and tell him, and then
he'd come up to me?"

"Yes, sir," he said, "you were a greenhorn, and he'd play you for a
sucker."

The tall man smiled.

"He never made a greater mistake in his life," was the reply.
"I'm pretty well posted on all these tricks, and I've paid for my
experience."

"What will I say to him?" asked Tommy.

The tall man advanced to where Thompson was waiting, but when the
latter saw him coming he concluded that something was wrong, and ran.

A chase ensued. Thompson ran into the arms of an officer, who held him
till the tall man came up.

"What's the charge?" asked the officer.

"He tried to play confidence on me. I'm a detective connected with
Central office. Take him to headquarters, while I find the boy. You
know me, officer. I'm Maccabe."

"I guess I ought to," answered the policeman.

"Curse the boy! Did he give me away?" asked Thompson.

"In the worst way, but without meaning it," was the answer.

"If I'd known he was such a fool, I'd never have traveled with him,"
growled Thompson, bestowing some choice oaths on Tommy, "and when I
come out, after doing the time I suppose you'll give me, I'll have
satisfaction out of his hide."

"Stop your chinning. You're my prisoner," said the officer, hauling him
off to Mulberry Street.

Maccabe, the detective, who had assumed an innocent air and a rough
sort of dress on purpose to throw thieves off their guard, looked
around for Tommy. He was nowhere to be seen.

Tommy had done the most sensible thing he ever did in his life, which
was to run away to the ferry and go home again, consequently the
detective couldn't catch him. But the absence of Tommy did not save
Thompson, who was sent to the island as a rogue and a vagabond for
three months.

In the solitude of his cell he had ample opportunity to plan his
revenge upon the boy, and we must leave him to brood over his future
plans while we return to Jersey City. It was afternoon when Tommy
reached the house.

His father had left the store early, and was with Mrs. Smithers in the
parlor, the latter being hysterical.

"What's the matter with you?" he heard his father say. "I ask for the
money in the bureau and all you do is to cry."

Tommy entered the room, and his mother no sooner saw him than she
caught him in her arms, and kissed and hugged him as if she had never
expected to see him again.

"Oh! my dear, dear boy," she exclaimed, "Heaven be thanked you are
restored to me."

"I ran away from the man, mother, when the police took him," said Tommy.

"Hush!" she cried, placing her fingers on her lip, warningly.

Mr. Smithers was interested. He saw that something of an unusual nature
had occurred during his absence, and he was determined to find out what
it was.

"What man?" he inquired.

"My father," replied Tommy, innocently. "He wasn't dead, and turned up
to-day."

"O-oh!" said Smithers, with a prolonged whistle; "that's how the cat
jumps, hey? Now I can see where the money went. Soh! the late lamented
Thompson has come back, and you're not my wife by law."

Mrs. Smithers bestowed a wrathful look on Tommy.

She would not for the world that Smithers should have got even the
least glimmering of what had taken place that day.

But it was too late for regrets. He knew all now.

She lay perfectly passive on the lounge, while Mr. Smithers closely
questioned Tommy, drawing from him all the facts connected with
Thompson's unexpected return from the West, and the circumstances of
his visit.




CHAPTER VII.

TOMMY MAKES A STRANGE VOYAGE.


After pacing the room in a state of agitation for some minutes, Mr.
Smithers enjoined Tommy not to say a word of what had happened to
anybody, and ordered him to go out and play, which the boy was very
willing to do.

At length he took his wife's hand in his.

"My dear," he said, "on consideration, I do not blame you in this
affair. When you married me you believed your first husband dead?"

"I did, indeed," she said, sobbing.

"You were weak and foolish to give him money, and still more silly to
let him have control of Tommy, whose simpleness came in well for once,
however."

"It broke my heart to part with him; but what could I do?"

"In future leave this fellow to me, or we shall have trouble. Will you
do so?"

"I shall be only too glad."

"That settles all. You are forgiven, and if Thompson dares to enter my
door again I shall give him to the police."

"But if he claims me and Tommy?"

"You can refuse to accompany him. The law will protect you," replied
Smithers.

"Oh! my dear, dear husband," exclaimed Mrs. Smithers, smiling
gratefully through her tears, "you are the best of men."

"And with all your faults you are good enough for me," replied Smithers.

Then peace was restored between them.

Meanwhile Tommy sought his friend, Charley Barker, who was standing
near an express wagon in the yard.

"Here's fun," exclaimed Charley. "Father's got a body which is to go
to England, and I'm to go with the expressman and see it on board the
steamer. Have you ever been on board a liner?"

"Never."

"Wouldn't you like to go?"

"I'll bet yer!" replied Tommy.

"That settles it. We've got to hurry up, as the steamer sails this
afternoon. It's the _Umbria_, of the Cunard line, and their docks are
in Jersey City," said Charley.

Tommy, boylike, was delighted at the chance of a little amusement of
a novel nature, and waited with impatience for the appearance of the
undertaker and the expressman, who at length came down the stairs with
a handsome, polished, elm coffin.

It contained the body of an Englishman, whose friends were desirous
of having it sent to the old country, so that he might rest with his
forefathers.

"Hurry with this to the _Umbria_, Charley," said the undertaker. "Are
you going along, Tommy Smithers?"

"Yes, sir, if I may."

"All right--up she goes."

The coffin was put in the wagon, and the boys got up behind, while
the driver said "Git up" to his team, and "rattled his bones over the
stones" to the Cunard docks.

When the steamer was reached, the steam was up, and, as usual on such
occasions, the greatest confusion prevailed.

The body was hoisted on deck, and the boys were permitted on board to
see it safely stowed away; but once on the ship, they took advantage of
the confusion to wander through the ship, being hugely pleased with all
they saw.

Suddenly a bell rang.

"Ship off!" cried Charley. "Make haste--this way; we shan't get ashore
if we don't look sharp."

Friends were taking leave of friends, and passengers were rushing about
in all directions.

In the crowd Tommy was separated from Charley Barker, and, as might
have been expected, from him, he took the wrong turning and got lost in
the saloon.

While he was trying to find his way out the gang-plank was drawn up,
the cable slipped, and the huge ship began steaming down the bay.

He had started on a voyage to England without intending it, and could
not help himself.

When he did reach the deck Jersey City was only visible in the
distance, and the _Umbria_ was gradually leaving the Battery behind.

The tears came to his eyes, and he exclaimed, "Charley! Charley!" But
his call met with no response.

The great ship steamed past Staten Island and into the upper bay
without anyone taking any notice of Tommy.

He had spoken to several people, but they, full of their own affairs,
had pushed him rudely on one side, as if a small boy was too
insignificant to pay attention to. There was no hope of his getting
on shore now, for the only place where they might have landed him was
Quarantine, and that was out of sight.

The tears trickled down his face still, and a strange fear that the
captain might beat or imprison him took possession of his mind.

He had heard of people being put in irons and confined in some dark
place for a trifling offense.

Suppose they asked him for his passage ticket, what could he say?

It was not likely that the captain would take him a journey of three
thousand miles for nothing.

He had no money, his knowledge of the sea and of seamanship was so
meager that he did not think he could work at anything.

Then, again, if they did not throw him overboard, which he regarded as
a possible contingency, what would he do at Liverpool without a friend
or a cent in the world?

The more he thought over the situation the more grave did it appear.

He was standing nearly amidships on the side of the rope which divides
the steerage and the saloon passengers.

It was no use to look imploringly at people who passed him; he was
nobody's child, as it were.

The huge ship seemed like a town to him, it was so vast, and held such
a number of people.

After a while the crowd on deck decreased, as the land receded from
view, for everyone wished to put his state-room in order, and get ready
for dinner.

They neared the Hook, Coney Island was on the left, and the Highlands
of Navesink, vested in a blue mist, were lying gracefully on the right.

A slight swell began to be perceptible in the motion of the vessel,
which showed that there was a stiff breeze and a rising swell in the
Atlantic.

A bell rang. The deck was soon deserted by the few who had remained up
to the last minute to enjoy the breeze and get an appetite for dinner.

A lad about sixteen came up to Tommy and exclaimed:

"Now, then, captain, you'd best be going below to get your grub."

"Thank you," replied Tommy, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not hungry, only
miserable."

"How's that?"

The lad was fair-haired, blue-eyed and good-natured, if his face could
be trusted, and he stared curiously at Tommy.

"Are you saloon or steerage?" he asked; "because, if you're steerage,
you'll get bounced if you come this side of that rope."

"I don't know what I am, and that's a fact."

"Come, don't guy me! Where do you belong? You must know who you came
aboard with."

"So I do."

"Who was it?"

"I came with the corpse," replied Tommy, with the utmost seriousness.

The fair-haired lad laughed.

"They call me Wild Charley!" he exclaimed, "and what my other name is
don't matter to anybody, since I left home without asking permission to
go; but in all my experience, I never traveled with a corpse."

"I'll tell you how it was," said Tommy, eagerly. "I live in Jersey
City, next door to Barker, the undertaker, and his boy and me was sent
to this steamer with a coffined body to go to England. We landed the
stiff and went to look around the ship, and----"

Wild Charley laughed.

"I see now," he interrupted, "you weren't quick enough in getting on
shore, and so you've started on a voyage without having previously
declared your intentions."

"Exactly."

Wild Charley whistled.

"Indeed, what I say is true," Tommy continued, hoping to make a
favorable impression upon the first friend he had met.

"I believe you," was the answer, "and I am trying to think how I can
help you. My position on board of this ship is that of steward's
assistant. If I said you were a friend of mine whom I had engaged to
assist, you could share my bunk, do what work you could, and no one
would trouble about the bit of food you eat, so long as you kept quiet
and made yourself generally useful."

Tommy's eyes filled with tears again. This time they were tears of
gratitude.

Seizing Wild Charley's hand, he pressed it cordially, saying:

"Oh, please do this for me. I will be so thankful."

"What's your name?"

"Tommy Smithers. They call me Soft Tommy sometimes, because I get
things kinder mixed up now and then."

"I should guess you were soft when you let the ship slip from her
moorings and take you across to the other side. Why, what on earth are
you to do when you reach Liverpool?"

"Work my passage back, I suppose."

"Not so easily done as said," answered Charley. "You don't meet with a
good-natured fellow like me every day."

"Will you do what you can for me?"

"Yes. Come below. Dinner is just being served, and it is my busy time.
I'll say a few words to the purser and chief steward, which will fix
things, and all you'll have to do will be to take the word from me and
do as you are told," answered Wild Charley.

They descended the hatchway, and Tommy found a job in washing up plates
and cleaning knives and forks.

After tea he went on deck.

The sea was calm, and he did not experience any sensation of
seasickness.

For a while he looked over the ship's side into the starlit night. All
at once a steamer was discovered going west.

The captain was on the bridge with the second officer.

"We'll signal that steamer," he exclaimed. "Send below for the usual
lights."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the mate.

He left the bridge, and, seeing Tommy, said:

"Are you one of the ship's boys?"

"Yes, sir," replied Tommy, touching his cap.

"Go to the quartermaster, and ask him for the ordinary signals."

"The what, sir?"

"Quartermaster, you fool! and hurry up!" shouted the officer.

Tommy did not understand who the quartermaster was, but he was afraid
to ask any more questions, and dived below.

The first person he met was the doctor.

"Please, sir," began Tommy.

"Well, what is it, my lad?"

"Where is there a quarter, master?"

"I've no quarter to give you, and am surprised at your impertinence in
asking for it," the doctor answered, passing on.

Tommy was somewhat surprised at this abrupt answer, and stood
still, wondering where he could go and what he could do next, when,
fortunately, he met Wild Charley.

"Say," he exclaimed, "where will I find the quartermaster?"

"That's his room," replied Wild Charley, pointing to the right. "What
do you want with him?"

"I'm sent for signals."

"Do you know what they are?"

"Of course I do. Don't take me for a fool," answered Tommy, looking up
with considerable pride.

"All right, my son. When you want to turn in, come down to the bunk I
showed you. Yours is the same as mine."

"I'll be there," replied Tommy.

He knocked at the quartermaster's door, and was told to enter.

"What is it, boy," asked the officer, without looking up from some
accounts which he was attentively studying.

"Captain's sent for usual signals, sir."

"Take them out of that locker."

There were two lockers, and, unfortunately, Tommy mistook the
direction in which the quartermaster waved his hand.

The consequence was that he took up two signals which he should have
left alone.

"Got 'em?" queried the quartermaster.

"Yes, sir," answered Tommy, hauling off the two lights.

"Get along, then."




CHAPTER VIII.

THE WRONG SIGNALS.


Tommy lost no time in getting on deck, and reaching the bridge, found
that the third officer was in charge, the captain and the second
officer having retired to the cabin of the former to consult the chart
as to some questions in dispute between them.

"Give me those lights," exclaimed the third officer, who had been
instructed to burn them.

They were handed over, and at once sent up.

Bright and brilliant they shot up, and flashed in the clear, dark blue
sky.

Scarcely had they died away when the captain returned and took his
place on the bridge.

"Signaled her, Mr. Simmons?" he said.

"Yes, sir," replied the third officer.

Scarcely had he spoken when an answering signal appeared shooting up
from the deck of the passing steamer.

"By jingo! that's queer," said the captain.

"Very strange, indeed, sir," replied the third officer.

"What do you understand by that?"

"It's heave to, or I'm mistaken; but, really, I don't understand the
whole code as well as I ought. I must take the book in hand."

"See, she's altering her course. We'll show our ensign, and alter the
ship's course a few points to the northwest."

"Ay, ay, sir."

The necessary change was made, and the two steamers approached each
other.

When they got within hailing distance a voice shouted:

"Ship ahoy!"

"_Umbria_," was the reply.

"Where from, and how long out?"

"New York, six hours."

"What in thunder," was the next question, "do you want to fool us by
signaling that you were in distress and out of provisions?"

"We sent up the ordinary signals, to make out who you were."

"Some mistake. Do you want anything?"

"No."

"Then good-by. We're the _Asia_, and we'll have a good joke on you."

The captain of the _Umbria_ muttered some improper words, and gave the
order to go ahead.

Soon the mighty machinery began to creak and groan, and the good ship
was speedily flying across the ocean at the rate of sixteen knots.

The vessels parted, their lights grew dim in the distance, and the
captain had full leisure to vent his displeasure upon those who
deserved it.

He sought the quartermaster, who was still busy in his cabin.

"Why did you send me the wrong signals?" he demanded.

"I pointed to the locker, sir, and told the boy to help himself. He
must have mistaken the lights."

"Yes, and a nice laughingstock he has made of us."

"What did you send up, sir?"

"In distress and short of provisions, when we were only six hours from
port."

The quartermaster with difficulty repressed a smile.

"Who burned the lights?" he inquired.

"The third officer, and it's my opinion that none of the men on board
this boat know their business," quoth the captain.

With this severe shot he went on deck again, and sent the boatswain to
find out Tommy.

"When you've got him," he added, "give him the taste of a rope's-end,
to make him smarter in future."

Luckily for Tommy, the boatswain was unable to find him, as he had, on
seeing that something was wrong, gone below and got into his berth.

But again he had made a mistake, for in the darkness he had entered the
purser's cabin, and got into his bed.

The purser had been playing a game of whist in the smoking room
and drinking some hot whisky, which, with the fatigue of the day,
consequent on leaving port, made him feel unusually sleepy.

Kicking off his boots, he turned into his bunk without looking inside,
and was greatly surprised to find it occupied.

"Oh! Charley," exclaimed Tommy, "ain't you heavy. Get off me, or you'll
have me smothered, sure."

The purser sprang out again and took one look at the bold intruder.

"You young cub!" he cried, "come out of that double-quick, or I'll skin
you alive!"

"Ain't it Charley?"

"No, it's me. How dare you have the cheek to turn into my bunk? Clear
out!"

Tommy made a snatch for his clothes, and got out.

"Beg pardon, sir, but where do I sleep?" he asked.

"Hang me if I know, and I'm blessed if I care," replied the purser.
"Take your hook out of this, youngster."

Tommy attempted to run, but a well-directed kick from the purser sent
him on his hands and knees, when the door was banged behind him.

"Bounced!" he heard a voice say close to him.

"That's sure as I'm alive, and badly bounced, too. Why, Charley, is
that you?"

"It is. What's up?"

"I'm down," replied Tommy. "The fact is, I got into the wrong cabin,
and was yanked out."

"You're always making mistakes. It's rough on you, I'll admit, but it
serves you right."

They turned in after this, and the next day very little was seen of
Tommy, as the weather was very rough, and he was so seasick he kept in
his berth.

The gale was over in a couple of days, and he appeared again, serene
and smiling, having found his sea legs, as his friend, Wild Charley,
expressed it.

The boatswain's pipes whistled cheerily at this moment.

Some sailors were climbing up the shrouds.

"Anything I can do, sir?" inquired Tommy.

"Go aloft and help set that sail," was the reply.

Though he had never been in the rigging before, Tommy was too proud to
refuse to comply with this command.

Accordingly he shinned up the shrouds, but hadn't gone far before he
lost his hold and fell in a lump to the deck.

He would have seriously injured himself had not the officer been
standing directly under him.

Tommy fell upon the officer's broad back, bringing him with a thud to
the deck.

He jumped up unhurt, but the officer was much bruised and shaken.

"Deuce take you for a fool!" he cried.

"Anything else I can do, sir?" asked Tommy.

The officer rose and picked up a belaying pin.

"If you don't make yourself scarce," he replied, "I'll pound you into a
jelly."

Tommy disappeared below, but the men had seen the fall and heard
Tommy's remark of "anything else I can do, sir?" which became quite a
word in the forecastle during the remainder of the voyage.

During the rest of the morning he was sent by the steward to wait upon
the cabin passengers, and answer the smoking-room bell.

The ladies kept him busy carrying up wraps and chairs, as it was fine
on deck, and the gentlemen occupied his time in orders for Bass' ale
and cigars.

Mrs. Nathan S. Stocker, of Chicago, had a mortal aversion to a dog, and
a maiden lady named Jones had a Scotch terrier which she insisted upon
giving all the privileges of the saloon.

The two ladies entered the saloon together as Tommy was dusting the
piano.

Miss Jones' dog ran up and pawed her.

"Boy!" exclaimed Mrs. Stocker, "remove this animal."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Touch him if you dare! Dogs have as much right here as children,"
replied Miss Jones.

"That remark does not apply to me, as I have left all my precious ones
at home; but I will maintain that the butcher's shop is the place for
dogs. Boy, go to the purser, and say that I wish this brute taken away."

"Certainly, ma'am," answered Tommy.

The ladies glared at one another, and Tommy sought the purser, who was
in his cabin.

"Well, what do you want?" he asked.

"Say, sir, what am I to do with Miss Jones' dog? Mrs. Stocker says----"

"Oh! hang the dog!" replied the purser, impatiently. "I've heard all
that before. I can't be bothered."

Tommy entered the saloon again with a piece of rope.

"What does he say?" asked Mrs. Stocker, eagerly.

"The dog's to be hanged, ma'am."

"What!" cried Miss Jones, "hang my Fido!"

"I always said the purser was a gentleman," remarked Mrs. Stocker,
smiling triumphantly.

"I will appeal to the captain!" exclaimed Miss Jones. "Touch Fido, if
you dare, till I return."

She rushed away, and Tommy stood, irresolute how to act.

"Boy," said Mrs. Stocker, "carry out the purser's orders. Execute that
detestable brute of a dog, and I will never forget you."

"All right, ma'am," answered Tommy.

He put the dog under his arm, and going on deck, slung the rope over a
yard, made a noose, and having put it round the dog's neck, hauled him
up about two feet from the deck.

Fido struggled and kicked, and his eyes were nearly starting from his
head in all the agony of strangulation.

Suddenly Miss Jones, followed by the captain, rushed upon the scene,
wringing her hands and uttering piercing cries.

"My dear, dear Fido! Save him! oh, save him!" she exclaimed, in piteous
accents.

The captain took out a claspknife and cut the rope; then he gave Tommy
a box on the ear.

Consequently Fido fell on the deck, very much resembling a dead dog,
and his executioner tumbled in a heap on top of him.

Miss Jones pulled him off, and taking up her dear dog, hugged it in
her arms, being rewarded by a feeble wag of the tail.

"He lives! yes, he breathes! I was in time!" she cried, tragically,
"and my darling is saved!"

The captain looked sternly at Tommy.

"Who gave you authority to hang people's dogs?" he demanded.

"Purser's orders, sir," answered Tommy.

The purser chanced to come on deck, and was just about offering his arm
to a lady who was taking a promenade, when the captain called him.

"Why did you order this lady's dog to be killed, Mr. Kinsey?" he asked.

"I, sir? I did nothing of the sort," replied the purser.

"This boy says you did."

"Yes, indeed, sir. Don't go back on me!" pleaded Tommy. "You said,
'Hang the dog!'"

"But I didn't mean it that way, you fool! It was an exclamation of
impatience. I had heard of this dog trouble, and didn't want to be
mixed up in it."

"Take the dog to the butcher, and let him mind him until the end of the
voyage."

"Yes, sir."

"Madam, I am glad to have been of service to you," continued the
captain, making a polite bow to Miss Jones and going on the bridge.

Tommy took the dog to the butcher and received a severe talking to from
the purser, who said:

"Are you a fool, or are you putting on?"

"Really, sir, I thought that you were in earnest."

"Thought my eye! thought my grandmother!" replied the purser. "If I
thought you were trying on any more larks with me, I'd tan your hide,
my lad, and don't you forget it!"

Tommy shrank away, somewhat abashed, wondering why people would say
what they didn't mean.

But he had made a friend of Mrs. Stocker, who in the end proved of
great service to him.




CHAPTER IX.

THE SMUGGLER.


The voyage was a quick one, and on the morning of the ninth day out
they were in the River Mersey.

Wild Charley spoke to him in the morning, and asked him what he
intended to do.

"I don't know, exactly," answered Tommy. "At first I was anxious to
get home, but if I write a letter to mother, telling her I am safe and
well, she will not be anxious about me, and now I am here I should like
to see something of England."

"Spoken like a little man," said Wild Charley. "I have spoken to the
steward, and he says he will always give you a passage back to America."

"That's good, and I'm much obliged to you."

"Mrs. Stocker has also mentioned your name," continued Charley. "She is
grateful to you for that affair of Miss Jones' dog."

"Yes, she said she'd be a friend to me."

"If you like to be her attendant and look after her baggage, she says
she will take you along."

"That will suit me first rate."

"Very well. You can see her at the Adelphi Hotel, where she stays three
days; but at present I want you to do something for me."

"You have only to name it. I'm sure, after your kindness, there is
nothing I could refuse you," replied Tommy, warmly.

"It is a mere trifle. I've got a lot of tobacco in cakes, which I would
like to have you conceal about your body."

"What for?"

"To avoid paying duty to the custom house," replied Wild Charley.

"That would be smuggling."

"Of course it would, but there is no harm in it."

"It's against the laws, and if I'm found out I shall be put in prison
for it."

"Oh, no," replied Charley, "there is no harm in it. They're not very
strict, and if you were tumbled to, I should be the principal sufferer."

"Why?"

"Because I should lose all my tobacco, which would be forfeited to the
customs."

Tommy hesitated.

Looking critically at him with his keen, selfish, blue eyes, Charley
added:

"I didn't think you would make any difficulty about such a little thing
after the friend I've been to you."

"But----"

"Oh, if you're so awful mean, say no more about it. I'm tired of
roughing it, and intend to go home. My only idea in smuggling the
tobacco was that I should have a little spending money when I reached
home, and not look poor."

"Are your friends well off?"

"Tolerably. Father is a professor, and keeps quite a fashionable
boarding school for young gentlemen in London."

"And you mean to go back?"

"Yes. I'll return to Greek and algebra, and learn all I can. Seeing the
world is all very well, but it doesn't pay when you can do better at
home," answered Wild Charley.

"That's so," answered Tommy, still hesitating.

"Come, don't keep me waiting for your reply all day. Say yes or no,"
answered Wild Charley, impatiently.

"Yes."

Tommy had consented in his soft way to do what his better judgment told
him might get him into trouble.

Lest he should have time for his decision to cool, he was called by
Charley into their cabin and literally stuffed with bags containing
thin, flat cakes of tightly pressed tobacco.

The duty on this tobacco is four shillings and six pence per pound,
with five per cent. added, and when we say that Tommy was loaded or
padded with over half a hundredweight, it can be imagined that he was
smuggling on a large scale.

Wild Charley sewed the bags with a needle and thread to the lining of
his pants, vest and coat, giving him a large pilot jacket to wear over
all.

"Now," he said, "you'll do. We shall soon be off Birkenhead, when the
officers of the customs will come on board. All you have to do is to
loaf around here, and when we've landed our passengers, you and I will
go ashore together, and I'll take you to a friend of mine, where you
can unload your cargo."

"All right," replied Tommy.

"If anything should go wrong you won't squeal?"

"No."

"Promise me that, because if they do twig you, they'll ask you all
sorts of questions, and it will do you no good to give me away. There
are more in the thing than myself, and you'll have a present given you."

"I promise," replied Tommy.

He remained below, showing himself as little as possible, until the
steamer was boarded by the custom house officers.

It did not then occur to him that his friend, Wild Charley, was as
heartless as he was full of scheming.

Yet it was a fact that he had only made up his mind to befriend him
because he thought he would be of great assistance in his smuggling
venture, in which some of the steward's assistants were mixed up.

The revenue men had been all over the ship, and Wild Charley had looked
in upon Tommy, whispering that he guessed it was all right now.

Tommy accordingly went into the saloon to see if he could not pick
up a dollar by making himself of use to some of the passengers, who
were getting their smaller articles of baggage together preparatory to
quitting the vessel.

The first party he encountered was Mr. and Mrs. Nathan D. Stocker, of
Chicago.

"Anything I can do, ma'am?" he asked.

"Well, yes, take a hold of this valise and these wraps. But, gracious
sakes! how you've grown," she replied.

"Got a little fatter," said Tommy, coloring up.

He was not aware that he presented the appearance of a prize side show
boy, and had increased apparently at least one-third in size.

"Why, bless me!" remarked Mr. Stocker, "the boy is positively
bloated--swelled up like the frog in the fable. I never saw such a
thing. Chicawgo growed fast after the fire, but, by thunder, he licks
Chicawgo hollow!"

"It's being confined and shut up on board ship," said Tommy.

"You've been living high, bub."

"Yes, sir. I guess that's got something to do with it."

A man who was writing at a table in the saloon heard this conversation,
and got up.

Tommy had the valise in one hand, and the wraps were thrown over his
arm.

"Put those down," said the man.

Mrs. Stocker looked at him.

"Why should he? They are mine!" she exclaimed.

"I am perfectly well aware of that fact, madam," replied the man, "and
feel sorry to interfere with your arrangements in any way, but I am a
custom house officer."

"Indeed?"

"I feel it my duty to examine this boy, because such an extraordinary
growth as you hinted at does not seem natural."

Tommy felt as if he would like to sink into his boots.

If the floor had opened and allowed him to drop down into the hold or
into the sea, it would have been a welcome relief.

"Take off that pilot coat," continued the revenue man.

"Why should I do that?" asked Tommy.

"If you don't do it, I'll have to help you."

Reluctantly Tommy obeyed.

"Now remove the other."

He did so.

The officer laid it on the table, and the bags of tobacco were revealed
to view.

Passing his hands up and down the boy's vest and pants, the officer
smiled serenely.

"Decided case of smuggling!" he exclaimed, triumphantly. "I'll have to
arrest you. Put on your coats, and, when we land, come with me before a
magistrate."

"Oh, please, sir, don't do that. Take the stuff and let me go," pleaded
Tommy.

"Can't do it."

"I--I'm very sorry."

"I'm not. This is a good haul. We have suspected that there has been a
great deal of smuggled tobacco taken off these ocean steamers, and I'm
pleased to think we've spotted some one at last."

Tommy began to cry.

"Who is in this with you?" asked the officer.

"N--no one, sir," replied Tommy.

"Are you sure?"

"Qui-quite sure, sir."

"All right. Tell a lie and stick to it. We've got you, and that's
enough for me," answered the officer.

Tommy continued crying, and rubbed the knuckles of his hands in his
eyes, but nobody took any notice of him.

All were busily engaged in preparing to leave the vessel, and when she
presently reached her dock, a grand rush was made for the gangway.

"Won't you let me go?" asked Tommy, thinking the officer might relent.

"Not likely," was the reply.

"What will they do with me?"

"Send you up for life, or perhaps hang you."

At this appalling prospect, which was a jest of the officer, Tommy's
tears redoubled. Mr. and Mrs. Stocker bestowed no attention upon the
unhappy boy, and even Wild Charley, who caught sight of him in charge
of the officer, hurried on as quick as he could.

"Charley! Charley!" exclaimed Tommy.

But Charley ran as if his former acquaintance were stricken with the
plague.

"Who's that?" asked the custom house officer.

"Only a friend of mine, sir," rejoined Tommy.

Soon afterward Tommy was taken on shore, and brought up before the
nearest magistrate.

The case was stated, and the smuggled tobacco produced.

"Clear case," said the judge. "Had he any accomplices?"

"He says not, your worship," replied the officer.

"Well, as he is so young, we will fine him twenty pounds, or three
months in jail."

"I haven't a cent, sir," exclaimed Tommy, "nor a friend on this side."

"Sorry for you. Next case!" replied the judge.

Tommy was taken below to the cells of the jailer, to await the coming
of the van which was to take him to prison.

Pushed rudely in, and locked up, he felt very miserable; but he could
do nothing.

He was alone and friendless, as well as penniless, while even Wild
Charley, who might have been expected to help him, kept away.

Abandoned on all sides, Tommy gave himself up to despair, and sat on
the hard bench in his cell in a state of sullen despondency.




CHAPTER X.

LOST IN LONDON.


Very miserably passed the sluggish hours for Tommy. It was now
afternoon, and he had been locked up more than two hours, during which
he had indulged in a good cry.

He was looking forward to the arrival of the van which was to take him
and others similarly situated to jail, when the wicket in his cell door
was pushed back. The face of the jailer appeared at the aperture.

"Johnny," he exclaimed, "brace up. Here's two people wants to see you."

"Who are they?" eagerly demanded Tommy.

"How should I know? They look like swells, though, and are dressed bang
up. The lady gave me a shilling."

"Is that so?" said Tommy. "Show them in at once. This isn't New Year's,
but I'm receiving calls."

The door was flung open, and Mr. and Mrs. Stocker appeared in the damp,
narrow passageway.

"What an awful place," exclaimed Mrs. Stocker. "Is this where they put
smugglers? I declare that I'll never risk taking any more silks or
laces in my trunks when I go back to the States."

"It's for all sorts, ma'am," answered the jailer.

Tommy looked at Mr. Stocker and wished him good-day.

"You've got yourself in a nice fix," said the Chicago man, "and if I'd
thought you'd done it all yourself I wouldn't have helped you, but my
wife thinks it's a put-up job, and she wants me to pay the fine for
you, though a hundred dollars is a lot of money, and if you travel with
us, you mustn't expect much wages for some time to come."

"I won't ask a cent, sir," replied Tommy, "if you'll only get me out of
this place."

"Who was it?" asked Mrs. Stocker.

"It was Wild Charley, ma'am, that got me to do it."

"That steward's assistant. Sakes! Why didn't you tell the judge so?
Good land! I'd have turned the tables on him mighty quick."

"He made me promise not to."

"Well," said Mr. Stocker, taking a chew of short-cut, "I'll allow
that you were soft not to squeal on him, but I guess I'll have to buy
you out of this hole. It goes against the grain of my wood to see an
American citizen shut up for smuggling a bit of tobacco."

Overwhelmed with delight, Tommy was marched upstairs by the jailer. The
fine was paid, and instead of going to prison, he accompanied Mr. and
Mrs. Stocker to their hotel.

He was engaged by them to look after the baggage and attend upon the
lady, who hated foreigners, and said she would rather have one of her
own countrymen around her than an Englishman or a Frenchman.

The next day was spent in viewing the sights of Liverpool, and at five
o'clock they took the express train to go to London.

On arriving at the railway station, Tommy was quite bewildered at the
noise and bustle which prevailed on all sides of him.

Mr. and Mrs. Stocker hired two cabs, as one would not contain all their
baggage, which they had packed on the roof of the cab, putting the
smaller parcels inside.

They were to ride in one and Tommy in the other.

"Give me those wraps--hurry up! Oh, my, how cold it is!" cried Mrs.
Stocker. "I shall be so glad when I get to the hotel."

The weather had changed considerably within the last twelve hours, a
light snow was falling.

Tommy handed in the wraps through the window.

"Did you tell them drivers where to go, sir?" asked Tommy.

"Yes. Jump in and keep behind us," was the reply.

Now it happened that there were many cabs in the station, and most of
them were laden with luggage, so that it was difficult to tell one from
the other.

People were rushing about hither and thither, porters were wheeling
trunks on barrows, and pushing all out of their way.

A hand truck went over Tommy's foot, which made him set up a howl of
pain.

Scarcely had this happened than he was caught in a rush of people and
carried halfway down the platform.

Having got out of this crush, he retraced his steps and tried to find
out his cab, but as all the four-wheeled London cabs resemble each
other, it was not an easy task.

At length he fancied he had found the right one, and opening the door,
got in.

"Go on," said he.

The driver, however, got down from his box, and eying the boy sternly
through the window, replied:

"Who are you tellin' to go on?"

"Why, you, of course."

"Did you engage me?"

"I didn't hire you, but my boss did," replied Tommy, "and he told you
where to go to."

"Where's that?"

Tommy scratched his head in perplexity.

He had heard the name of the hotel, but the rush, the whirl, and the
bustle of the moment had driven it clean out of his head.

"I've forgotten!" he exclaimed. "But it don't matter so long as the
boss told you, and you know."

"Look here, young fellow," replied the cabman, "this game won't wash.
I never see you before, and I don't know nothing about bosses. You get
out."

"What d'you mean?" cried Tommy, "ain't the trunks got the name of
Stocker on them?"

"No, they haven't. It's name of Jones. See for yourself."

"I'll stay here," answered Tommy.

"Will you?"

"You bet I will. It's my opinion you want to steal the property."

This insinuation was more than the man could bear.

He stretched out his arm, seized Tommy by the collar, and dragging him
out, flung him on the platform, where he fell on his back.

At that moment the gentleman who had in reality engaged the cab
appeared with his wife, got in, and was driven off.

Tommy, still of opinion that the cab held Mr. Stocker's property, ran
after it out of the station, but it went quicker than he, so that he
soon lost sight of it in the blinding snow.

Thus died away his last hope.

He had lost all trace of his kind protectors, and it seemed as if it
was impossible to find them again.

How could he gain any news of them in such a vast wilderness as London?

The snow was descending in thick, heavy flakes.

Where could he go for shelter?

In his pocket he had not a cent, and he did not know anyone in the
whole metropolis.

With a terrible dread of starvation, or being frozen to death, he
leaned against a lamp-post.

Suddenly a policeman came upon him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, roughly.

"Nothing," replied Tommy.

"Move on."

"I've nowhere to go to. I'm a stranger here, and----"

"Go to the workhouse," interrupted the policeman.

"I don't know where it is."

"Then I ain't going to tell you. All I know is, if you don't get off my
beat, I'll have to make you."

With a weary sigh Tommy trudged on in the rapidly deepening snow.

He was so tired that he scarcely could drag one leg after the other,
and seeing a door standing half open, he determined to enter and throw
himself on the mercy of the inmates.

Over the door was a lamp, and on the door a brass plate, upon which was
engraved, "Rev. C. Floyd, Academy for Young Gentlemen."

In the hallway he met an elderly lady, who had no sooner seen him that
she began to cry out at the top of her voice:

"Thieves! murder! burglars! help!"

A gentleman of clerical appearance came out of a room, and behind him
were a dozen or more boys.

These he waved back with his hand, saying:

"No excitement, if you please, young gentlemen. Stay where you are."

The boys hesitated on the threshold, looking over one another's
shoulders, those in the rear standing on tiptoe.

"Now, my dear," commenced the clerical-looking gentleman, who was the
Rev. C. Floyd himself, "what is the matter?"

"A stranger in the house," replied Mrs. Floyd.

"Indeed!"

The Rev. C. Floyd adjusted his spectacles, and looked curiously at
Tommy.

"My boy!" he exclaimed, "what do you want here at this hour of the
evening?"

"If you please, sir," replied Tommy, "I'm a stranger here. I'm lost,
and I thought you might allow me to sleep somewhere till morning."

"Have you no home?"

"Not here. I'm from America, and only came up from Liverpool to-day."

"Dear me," said the Rev. C. Floyd. "That is a curious coincidence. My
son only arrived yesterday. You say you are from America. Now we will
test the accuracy of your story. Perhaps you are an impostor. If so,
you will be turned out; if not, you shall receive shelter."

"Thank you, sir," answered Tommy, peeping curiously at the young
gentlemen on the threshold.

"Mary, my dear," exclaimed the Rev. C. Floyd, "will you kindly call
down our prodigal son, who, I have reason to believe, is smoking a pipe
in his bedroom, contrary to my express orders."

Mrs. Floyd, having recovered from her fright at seeing a stranger in
the house, went upstairs, and presently returned with a young man.

Tommy's eyes dilated with surprise.

"Charley!" he exclaimed--"Wild Charley! He knows me, sir. We came over
in the same ship together."

The young man advanced with a smile, and held out his hand.

"Glad to see you," he said; "I thought you had found a job in
Liverpool."--This was said with an expressive wink.--"But how did you
find me?"

"Chance," replied Tommy.

Rev. C. Floyd looked from one to the other.

"Do I understand that you two were shipmates?" he asked; "and that you
have met here quite accidentally?"

"That's so, father," answered Charley. "Let Tommy come in by the stove
and he'll tell you all about it."




CHAPTER XI.

TOMMY IN BUTTONS.


Tommy was invited in, and given a seat. He related his adventures, but
owing to a whisper from Wild Charley, did not say anything about the
smuggling. They all listened to him with great attention, and admitted
that his coming to Mr. Floyd's was very remarkable.

"My young friend," exclaimed Rev. C. Floyd, "your wanderings serve
to show that there is a higher power which watches over the most
insignificant of us. I will turn no houseless wanderer from my door;
nay, I will even offer you employment."

"How can I thank you, sir?" said Tommy, his eyes overflowing with tears.

"By diligence and civility. We have a lad named Bobsey, who cleans
the boots and shoes, sees to the fires, brushes the young gentlemen's
clothes, and answers the bell, as well as waits at table."

"I'll do that."

"Bobsey is about to leave us. You shall take his place, receive your
board and lodging, and half a crown a month. I think, my dear, that
Bobsey's livery will fit our young friend."

"Yes; they're about the same size," answered Mrs. Floyd, to whom this
remark was addressed.

"Then we will relegate him to the regions below; for though he has
traveled with our Charley, their intimacy must cease, and Tommy be
taught at the start that we can allow no communication between him and
our young gentlemen."

At this, the young gentlemen in question, who were inclined to be
priggish and high-toned, turned up their noses and appeared to regard
Tommy as one very much beneath them.

"Boy," exclaimed Mrs. Floyd, "go downstairs, and the cook will give you
your supper. For to-night you will sleep with Bobsey."

"Thank you, ma'am," replied Tommy.

She conducted him to the top of the kitchen stair, and called down to
the cook, saying:

"Susan, this is the new page boy."

"All right, ma'am," answered the cook from the depths below.

Tommy went down and entered a large kitchen in which burned a bright
fire. The cook, a good-natured looking woman, sat on one side, and on
the other, perched upon a stool, was a lad of sixteen, though his face
was old enough to make one think he was twice that age.

"Bobsey," said the cook, "missis says this is the new page boy."

"I knows it," replied Bobsey, with a cheerful air. "Cos vy, I vos
a-listenin' at the door all the time they vos a-talkin', and it don't
break my 'art. Look at me! Ven I come 'ere I vos fat, now I is that
thin my mother thinks of chalkin' my 'ed and lettin' me hout as a
billiard cue."

"I'm sure, Bobsey, you 'as plenty to heat and to drink," answered the
cook, with a reproachful glance.

"It isn't you I's complaining of, cooky," rejoined Bobsey; "it's the
vork. If a cove vants to go for to commit suicide vell, hall he 'as to
do is to take a place in a academy for young gentlemen. Sit down, my
noble swell from furrin' parts; we hain't a-goin' to heat you, and I
don't bear no malice agin' anyone."

Tommy took a seat between the two.

There was a ring at the bell.

"Vot is that bell a-ringing for?" said Bobsey. "They've got a scuttle
of coal in the schoolroom; ditto in the parlor; the young gentlemen
'as 'ad their supper, and the ole woman has got some 'ot water for her
nightcap."

"What does she want hot water for her nightcap for?" asked Tommy.

"She takes a little gin 'ot before she goes to bed."

"Shall I answer the bell?"

"If you don't, I shan't," replied Bobsey; "as you're engaged, I may
consider myself on leave of habsence--eh, cooky?"

"Of course," replied Susan. "Servants have their rights, and who'd
blame you, Bobsey?"

"You hadmire my spirit, cooky?"

"Indeed I do."

Bobsey got up and removed a coat he wore, made of blue cloth and
ornamented in the front with bright silver-colored buttons.

"Take the badge of servitude!" he exclaimed. "I discard it. Cos vy? Not
cos I'm sacked, but I've got a hindependent spirit which vill never be
satisfied till the earth of this country runs red with the blood of the
haristocrats."

Susan regarded Bobsey with admiration not unmixed with awe.

"Don't he talk beautiful?" she said.

"Yes," answered Tommy.

"'Ow is it in the Hunited States?" inquired Bobsey.

"Very much the same as it is here," replied Tommy; "we've all got to
work."

"Hain't you hall masters and no servants?"

"Not exactly. One man considers himself as good as another, but's a
mighty hard place for working and finding your level."

The bell rang again.

"Put on the badge," said Bobsey. "I'll take it heasy."

With some difficulty Tommy got into the coat, which was several sizes
too small for him, and only by dint of holding his breath could he get
the buttons to go into the holes prepared for them.

He felt that if he was compelled to undergo any unusual exertion, the
buttons would fly off like bullets from a rifle when the trigger falls.

"Shall I do?" he asked.

"First-rate," replied Bobsey. "You looks a A No. 1 Buttons, and no
mistake."

Tommy hastened upstairs to answer the ringing of the bell, which
summoned him to the parlor where Mr. and Mrs. Floyd were seated,
the young gentlemen being in the schoolroom indulging in half an
hour's conversational recreation before prayers, which preceded their
retirement to their dormitories.

Entering the parlor, he inquired:

"Did you ring, sir?"

"Ah--h'm," replied the Rev. C. Floyd. "This is very good. He'll do, my
dear; I think, though, the coat is a little tight for him. Yes, I did
ring. You are putting too much coal on the fire downstairs. It makes
our chimney smoke."

"I wish he could stop our chimney; the nasty thing chokes me," remarked
Mrs. Floyd.

"I'll see what can be done," answered Tommy.

He went into the kitchen again, but missed a step on the stairs and
fell in a heap at the bottom, but without hurting himself.

"Vot's that?" cried Bobsey, coming out.

"I missed my pitch," replied Tommy. "Blame these stairs!"

"No bones broke, eh? and no damage done?"

"Oh, no."

"That's good. Yes, there is, though--you've busted some buttons. I
knowed as 'ow you'd bust yer buttons."

Tommy looked at what Bobsey called the "badge," and saw that several
buttons were missing.

"They'll have to buy you a new one," said Bobsey, consolingly. "Vell,
vot did the old duffer want?"

"His chimney smokes, and they want me to stop it."

Bobsey's eyes twinkled with a delight he could not conceal.

"Oh," he said, "that's an old dodge. Did he tell you what to do?"

"No."

"He left it to me, I suppose. I always had to do it."

"What?"

"You've got to take the hall doormat and get up to the top of the
house; there's a trapdoor at the top--get out of that, and put the
doormat on the top of the chimney. I'll show you."

"Is that what he calls stopping the chimney?"

"If that won't do it, I want to know what will," replied Bobsey.

"That settles it," said Tommy. "I want to do all I can to please them,
as they were kind enough to take me in out of the snow."

"Of course; you're tender hearted. Come along."

Tommy followed Bobsey, who pointed to a heavy mat in the hall, which
Tommy slung over his shoulder, and they proceeded to the top of the
house, where a step-ladder gave egress to the roof through a trapdoor,
which was easily opened.

The chimney was close to the trap, and without any great exertion
Tommy managed to place the mat over it, precluding the possibility of
any smoke escaping.

When this was done, Bobsey hurried him downstairs again into the
kitchen.

"I don't want any gratitude," he remarked, "for putting you up to
things and making you know the ways of the 'ouse."

"I'm a thousand times obliged to you," replied Tommy, "for keeping me
posted."

"I may help you a hundred different ways, but never you tell anyone who
it was done it."

"Not I. What do you take me for?" said Tommy. "I'm no slouch."

The bell of the parlor began to ring again furiously, and Tommy
prepared to answer it.

"The old duffer wants to thank you," remarked Bobsey. "If he hoffers to
make you a present of 'alf a crown, don't you say no."




CHAPTER XII.

AN ARTISTIC CHIMNEY SWEEPING.


Tommy hastened upstairs, and Bobsey, entering the kitchen, made various
pantomimic expressions of delight, such as inflating his cheeks,
putting out his tongue, winking one eye and setting his fingers to his
nose.

"Oh, my," he cried to the cook, "ain't he soft? I'm glad I ain't going
far away from this place, 'cos I can 'ave no end of fun with 'im."

"What you done now?" asked Susan.

"You'll hear the racket, if you listen at the foot of the stairs,"
replied Bobsey.

They both adjourned to the spot mentioned, and eagerly listened to what
was taking place above.

When Tommy entered the Rev. C. Floyd's room he found it full of thick
coal smoke, which was pouring in dense volumes from the blocked-up
chimney.

The windows were open, and so were the doors, but this only gave a
partial relief.

"What on earth is the matter with the chimney?" asked Mr. Floyd.

"I stopped it, sir," replied Tommy.

"How?"

"Put the doormat on the top of it."

"You did, did you? Wait till I catch you!" cried Mr. Floyd. "I'll teach
you to play your jokes upon me."

Tommy endeavored to escape, but Mr. Floyd caught him by the ear.

"I've got him," he exclaimed, "now pound him. Thrash him. Punch him.
Punch him severely. This will never do. He's worse than Bobsey, and
that is saying a great deal."

The Rev. C. Floyd grasped Tommy by the coat collar and shook him
so violently that four more buttons dropped off his jacket, which
consequently bulged out in front in a very dilapidated and drunken
manner, suggestive of having been on a spree, and not having had time
to put in the necessary repairs.

"Leave off!" cried Tommy.

"Are you a fool?" said Mr. Floyd.

"I don't know, but it's my opinion you're trying to make me one. Let
up--now stop! I want you to stop, or I'll kick your shins. Quit, won't
you?"

Mr. Floyd let him go and glared at him.

"Go and take the mat away, and if you play me any more tricks I'll cane
you in the presence of the young gentlemen," he exclaimed.

Tommy saw that he had made a mistake and hastened to rectify it by
removing the mat, which being done, the smoke ascended smoothly, though
the wind forced an occasional puff the wrong way.

The wrath of Mr. Floyd became mollified, and when Tommy returned he
talked to him calmly, and as became a minister and a schoolmaster.

Bobsey, however, was not satisfied with the result of the evening's
entertainment.

He caught up the kitchen cat, a fine tabby, which was snoring
peacefully on the hearth.

"My gracious!" asked the cook, "what are you going to do?"

"The guvnor's too mean to have his chimney swept, and I'm going to do
it for him."

"With what?"

"With my new patent," answered Bobsey, grinning. "I shall drop this cat
down the flue and pelt her with tiles to make her hurry down. She'll
come out in the parlor looking splendid, and the fire won't do more
than singe her fur."

"Oh, you cruel wretch! I'll tell on you."

"You will, eh?" said Bobsey, gravely. "If you do anything so rash I'll
come to your bedside in the night and cut all your hair off so short
you'll have to wear a wig."

"A wig!" repeated Susan, horrified at the mere thought of such a terror.

"You stop here, Susan, and don't never 'oller about me," said Bobsey,
imperiously.

Calling the cat such pet names as "poor tabby" and "good old Tom," he
conveyed it to the roof.

He was as good as his word.

The cat was thrown down the chimney, and in spite of its claws, forced
to descend.

Tremendous quantities of soot were dislodged in the foul chimney by its
struggles, and shot down with great velocity.

Never was a chimney more artistically or more cleanly swept.

The Rev. C. Floyd was indulging in a little lecture, which he thought
would do Tommy good.

"This, my friend," he was saying, "is the land of freedom and
intelligence. You must not allow yourself to get behind the age. Keep
pace with the times. There are people who would stifle education--who
would throw a dense pall of black ignorance over the country, and----"

At this moment a terrific avalanche of soot fell down, covering those
in front of the fire.

It flew all over the room, settling on the table, books and carpet
nearly an inch thick.

Mr. and Mrs. Floyd and Tommy, as soon as they could get their eyes
open, looked at one another in blank dismay.

They were as black as negroes, and began to sneeze and cough as if they
had suddenly caught cold.

"Dear me," said Mr. Floyd, retreating to the door.

"What in the world is it?" exclaimed Mrs. Floyd, following him.

Down came another cloud of soot, which struck Tommy full in the face.

Mr. Floyd opened the door and called for help.

Suddenly a dark object darted down the chimney, surrounded with soot,
and uttering a fiendish scream as its feet touched the coals, dashed
across the room, made one spring for the window, leaped into the street
and was seen no more.

"The devil!" muttered Mr. Floyd.

"Heaven defend us!" said his wife.

The young gentlemen came out of the schoolroom, and seeing these black,
unearthly looking objects before them, hastily retreated.

Mr. Floyd looked toward the staircase.

He saw Bobsey coming down, and a suspicion at once crowded his mind.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"Nowhere," replied Bobsey.

"What was it you put down the chimney?"

"Vell, then, 'ere's a go?" said Bobsey, assuming an air of injured
innocence. "'Cos I'm going to leave your hemploy, I'm not to be accused
of everything. Oh! no--not much. I ain't a nigger slave."

"I'll send for a policeman," cried Mr. Floyd.

"Send for a dozen," said Bobsey, who retreated to the kitchen.

Mr. Floyd's anger was now at its height.

He seized Tommy and dragged him into the schoolroom.

"You're in the plot," he exclaimed, "and I'll cane you. Bend your back,
sir, and touch your toes with your fingers." At the same time he took a
cane from his desk.

"I won't," answered Tommy, resolutely.

The Rev. C. Floyd looked perfectly diabolical with his black face and
hands, while Tommy resembled one of the attendant imps.

All the young gentlemen were highly amused, but the discipline of the
academy was so strict that they did not dare to laugh.

Finding that Tommy would not submit to the cane, the reverend gentleman
endeavored to strike him where he stood.

The boy, however, dived between his legs, throwing him on his face, and
ran away to the kitchen, where the cook considerately washed his face
and hands, and sewed the buttons on his coat.

"Now," exclaimed Bobsey, "you look less like a Heast Hindian, and more
of a Christian. Warn't it a lark? Oh! crickey, didn't I split with
laughing ven I saw old Floyd near smothered with soot!"

"I'm afraid he'll be down on me for it," said Tommy.

"Never mind, you and me's friends, and if you get the dirty kick out,
I'll see hafter you."

"Will you, indeed?"

"Vill I? I promise that you shan't want as long as I've got a shilling
to whack up, if it's only to spite the old man," replied Bobsey.

All at once Mrs. Floyd's voice was heard calling:

"Fire! Fire!"

"Bless us and save us!" cried the cook.

"Vot's up now?" said Bobsey.

He ran upstairs to examine, and came back with the intelligence that
the parlor was on fire.

"I think," he remarked, "that the cat coming from the fire must have
caught a live coal and dropped it in the window curtain, for the front
of the room's a-blazin' away like mad."

"Won't you help put it out?" said Tommy.

"Not I. Vy should I? The engine'll be here as soon as the peeler on the
beat sees the flames, and I'm goin' out into the street to see the fun.
Come on, Yankee."

"All right, Johnny Bull," replied Tommy.

The house was now all excitement. The young gentlemen ran about with
water jugs, making feeble efforts to put out the fire.

Mrs. Floyd fainted and was carried out in the snow, while her husband,
with a small garden syringe, squirted at the flames, which were
increasing in fury and intensity every moment.

Wild Charley was the only one who had any sense.

He put on his hat and ran to the engine house, which was fortunately in
the next street, and gave the alarm.

Bobsey, with Tommy by his side, formed one of a rapidly increasing
crowd that lined the pavement opposite.

He enjoyed the fire as only boys can, and when the flames darted out of
the parlor windows, took off his cap, waved it, and cried:

"Hooray!"

Tommy was much concerned at the state of affairs, for he saw a
prospect of losing the new home that he had so recently acquired.

By and by the engine came snorting and panting up to the scene of the
fire. People all up and down the street were aroused.

The firemen got at the hydrant and fastened the hose, and soon two
streams of water were playing on the flames.

"Go it, boys! pump on her!" exclaimed Bobsey, wild with excitement.
"Let her have it. 'Ere's a jolly spree!"

The water descended in streams on the flames, but for some time did not
appear to take any effect.

All this time the feathery snow descended pitilessly.




CHAPTER XIII.

TOMMY FINDS A FRIEND IN BOBSEY.


In spite of the efforts of the firemen, the flames, aided by a strong
northerly wind which had suddenly sprung up, increased in volume and
intensity.

The Rev. Mr. Floyd began to recognize the fact that his house would
eventually succumb to the flames, and he remembered that he had a box
containing money and valuable papers in the room in which he slept.

Calling his son, he exclaimed:

"Charles, I am ruined if I cannot save my private box. What am I to do?"

Wild Charley surveyed the situation, and concluded that, though
hazardous in the extreme, an attempt might be made to enter the burning
house.

"Where is the box?" was Charley's only question.

"Under the bed in my room. But, for Heaven's sake, do not be rash."

Wild Charley said nothing more. He ran past the firemen and gained the
front door, regardless of cries to stop which arose from many throats.

The staircase was on fire, but he dashed through the flames, which
licked his body as if they had him in deathly embrace, and was soon
lost to sight.

Suddenly a tremendous shout arose. Standing on the roof of the house
was perceived the figure of Charley, who held a box under his arm. So
far his desperate enterprise had been successful, but he knew not how
to regain the street, as the burning of the staircase had cut off all
retreat.

The firemen now raised their ladder-like apparatus against the side of
the flaming house, and Charley commenced his descent, but when about
halfway down, the crowd saw him disappear.

The roof had given way.

Wild Charley was precipitated into the midst of the flames, and
everyone was convinced that he was beyond help now.

Mr. and Mrs. Floyd and the young gentlemen were taken into the house of
a sympathizing neighbor, where the grief of the schoolmaster and his
wife had full vent in private. Their sorrow for the loss of their son
was overwhelming.

Nobody bestowed any attention upon Tommy and Bobsey, who watched the
efforts of the firemen until they had conquered the flames.

When the gray dawn of morning broke upon the snow-clad scene, the
engines were playing upon a smoking, smoldering mass of charred and
blackened fragments, under which lay the burned body of Wild Charley.

"What'll we do now?" asked Tommy.

"I told you," replied Bobsey, "as 'ow I'd got another place at Dr.
Slasher's, and he'll 'ave to take you, too."

"I guess he won't want two boys; but I'll come for nothing, only my
board."

"He's standing at his door now," said Bobsey. "I'll go and speak to 'im
about you."

Tommy waited impatiently while his friend went to make an application
on his behalf to Dr. Slasher.

The doctor was quite a character in his way. Being moderately well off,
he was not dependent on his practice for a living. He had served in the
war and lost a leg, which he had replaced by a cork one, with a stick
at the end of it instead of a boot.

He was hot-tempered and impulsive, and fond of using the expression,
"Never in the wide, wide world," if he had made up his mind not to do a
particular thing.

When Bobsey approached him he was smoking a cigar.

"This 'as been somethin' of a fire, sir," exclaimed Bobsey, "and I'm
burnt hout. Will you take me in as you promised?"

"Certainly," replied Dr. Slasher. "When I make a promise I keep it.
You shall be my errand boy--take out the medicines and make yourself
generally useful."

"Thank you doctor," said Bobsey, "I'm much hobliged, and shall be still
more so if you'll help a frien' of mine."

"Who is he?"

"Stranger in this country. Was engaged by Mr. Floyd, but now he's hout
of work 'cos of the fire. He'll 'ave to starve, and you wouldn't like
to see him do that."

"Never in the wide," answered the good-natured doctor. "He shall attend
to my surgery. I'll teach him to mix potions and roll pills."

"That's hall he wants," said Bobsey. "Can we go and pitch hour tents in
the kitchen till morning, sir?"

"Go right in," said Dr. Slasher. "I'm about to go to bed myself. It's
no use waiting up any longer. This is the most disappointing fire I
ever witnessed. My professional skill has not once been called into
requisition."

"Wild Charley's burnt hup, sir."

"Well, the young scamp deserved it, and I guess they won't put him to
sweeping snow where he's gone to. Now you and your friend can sleep
by the stove in the kitchen, but I shall want you up in the morning.
You'll have to work, or I'll know the reason why."

Bobsey promised acquiescence, and ran away, to make Tommy acquainted
with the welcome news.

"Hi've got you hon," he exclaimed.

"How can I thank you?" replied Tommy. "This will save me from an awful
lot of misery. It's dreadful to be in a foreign country without money
or friends."

The doctor had retired, leaving the door open for them, and the two
boys entered the house, making themselves comfortable in the kitchen.

Next day they were given a room to themselves, and their duties were
mapped out for them.

Dr. Slasher was not a married man, and his home was kept by an elderly
lady who might in years gone by have been called good-looking, but who
had long, long ago lost all pretensions to beauty. Her name was Miss
Minks, and she was cook and housekeeper all in one.

For some days all went on smoothly at the doctor's.

It was quite a week before Tommy was allowed an opportunity for
exercising his remarkable powers for doing things as they ought not to
be done.

Dr. Slasher had been invited to dine at a neighbor's house, but having
a patient to attend he could not go.

Walking into the surgery where Tommy was rolling pills, he said:

"Go to Mrs. Jones at 99 in this street, and say with my compliments
that I can't dine with her to-day, though there is nothing I should
like better, as I don't expect I shall get much to eat at home."

As Tommy walked up the street he conceived a great idea. His master
could not go out to dinner, but evidently wanted something to eat. It
should be his business to see that this was attended to.

When he arrived at Mrs. Jones', he asked to see that lady, and was
ushered into the hall, where she came in full-dress.

"Doc's compliments, ma'am!" he exclaimed, "and he can't come to dine,
but he'd like something to eat, so if you'll put the grub in a basket,
I'll take it home for him."

"Oh, eh! yes," replied Mrs. Jones, in some confusion. "Wait here and
I'll attend to it."

She knew that Dr. Slasher was an eccentric character, and thought that
he might have sent for something to eat, though it was an extraordinary
thing for a gentleman to do; so she had the cook put up a basketful of
good things with which Tommy returned to the house in triumph.

The doctor was just going out, and had his hat and coat on.

"Did you give my message to Mrs. Jones?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, and as you couldn't go yourself, I got her to give me your
dinner in a basket."

"You did what!" thundered the doctor.

"Got your dinner, sir; here it is," replied Tommy, opening the lid of
the basket and displaying the contents.

"Are you a fool, or what are you?" vociferated the doctor.

"I don't know," responded Tommy, sulkily. "It seems as if I never can
do anything right."

"Now, my boy," said the doctor, "you'll take this half-crown, and
you'll go to a florist's to buy a bouquet of flowers. Having purchased
the article, you will take it to Mrs. Jones, with my compliments, and
explain that the dinner was your mistake."

"Yes, sir."

"If you make any blunder about it this time. I'll put leeches on you to
suck your blood."

Tommy had to walk some distance to reach a florist's, and when he did,
he found the man had only one bouquet left.

"How much for this?" he asked.

"Two and-six," replied the man; and Tommy, throwing down the
half-crown, took up the bouquet, which was very pretty and tastefully
arranged.

Going at once to Mrs. Jones', he was fortunate enough to find that the
lady had just quitted the dinner table, and she saw him in the hall.

"How did Dr. Slasher like what I sent him?" she asked, with a smile.

"First-class, ma'am," replied Tommy, "only it was a mistake of mine,
and I've brought you a bokay from the doctor."

"I'm sure I feel very much obliged to the doctor, and you are a very
good boy," she exclaimed, much gratified at the present. "Here's a
shilling for you."

This was intended as a gratuity for Tommy, but he thought she wanted to
pay for the flowers, and that it was his duty to take the money back to
his employer.

"Please, ma'am, that ain't enough," he remarked.

"Why not?"

"It cost two-and-six. I want a shilling and sixpence more."




CHAPTER XIV.

A DOSE FOR THE DOCTOR.


A look of displeasure crossed Mrs. Jones' face, but she handed Tommy
the money.

"Get out of the house," she said, "and tell Dr. Slasher that I don't
understand this conduct at all. He's no gentleman."

"I'll tell him, ma'am," answered Tommy, who was getting bewildered
again, and away he posted home.

"Did you make that all right?" he asked.

"You can bet I did," answered Tommy, with a triumphant smile. "I'm the
hunky-dory boy who can fix things."

"Well, what did she say?"

"She handed me a shilling for the flowers, which cost two-and-six, but
I wasn't going to be beat that way."

"What?"

"She couldn't play that on me, sir, and I made her dub up the other
eighteen pence, and she told me to get out of the house, and let you
know that you were no gentleman. You see, she was mad because I tumbled
to her little game."

The doctor's eyes flashed fire, and his cork leg seemed to quiver with
indignation.

"You rascal!" he exclaimed. "Do you want to ruin me? Have you no
knowledge of the usages of good society? Does a gentleman ever expect a
lady to pay for the presents he makes her?"

"I did my best, sir."

"Did your worst, you mean. Sit in that chair while I get the leeches."

Tommy sank into the chair, and Dr. Slasher tied a piece of rope round
him, which rendered it impossible for him to move.

In a glass vase were kept the leeches, a couple of which the doctor
took out, putting one on each of the boy's cheeks.

Their clammy feel caused a thrill of horror to run through his frame,
which increased when he felt a puncture of the skin.

The leeches were at their work, and drinking his blood.

"Oh, sir, take them off!" he screamed. "They'll kill me! They'll drain
me dry, and I shall go about like a walking skeleton."

"They like boys' blood," the doctor remarked. "It seems to agree with
them."

"Oh, sir, please, sir, take the beastly things away," pleaded Tommy.

The doctor was determined, and Tommy's pleadings did not move him in
the least, so the leeches continued to suck until they were thoroughly
gorged, when they dropped off and were carefully replaced in their
vases.

"Now," said the doctor, "I shall expect you to be a smarter boy after
this, for I have been at considerable pains to extract the bad blood
from you."

Tommy was untied, and rubbing his cheeks, ran downstairs to find
Bobsey, and get him to condole with him.

He found Bobsey sitting by the stove, all by himself. There was no
other servant, as Miss Minks did all the work.

"What's up?" inquired Bobsey.

Tommy related what had happened.

"Oh, my heyes!" said Bobsey, "ain't that a shame! I never 'eard of such
a rig as that."

"I'll be revenged."

"What'll yer do?"

"There's a big auger in the cellar, and I'll bore holes in the surgery
floor, so that old Slasher will stick his leg in one. I'll have a big
stone in the room underneath, and I'll fasten the stone to his leg so
he can't move. That'll be bully."

"First-rate," replied Bobsey.

"Then," continued Tommy, warming with his subject, "I'll get a lancet
and stab him all over. I'll physic him with a dose of salts and----"

"'Old on," interrupted Bobsey. "S'pose he takes and sacks you?"

"I won't let him loose till he promises to forgive me."

"You'll do, young one," Bobsey said. "I don't want to offend you."

Tommy was as good as his word, for he worked hard that night with the
auger, and made at least a dozen holes in various parts of the surgery
floor.

The next day Dr. Slasher had occasion to find fault with Tommy, who was
not making the pills the proper shape.

"You've got the mold," said the doctor, "why don't you turn them out
properly?"

"If you don't like my way, do it yourself," replied Tommy.

"What!" cried the doctor; "getting impudent, are you? I'll have to give
you a dose of salts and senna, young man."

"If you catch me."

"That won't give me much trouble," replied Dr. Slasher, who proceeded
to fill a glass with a nauseous-looking fluid.

When the dose was ready he called to Tommy to come and drink it.

"Not much," said Tommy.

"I order you to take it, and if you don't, I'll make you."

"You've got to spell able," was Tommy's reply, as he moved toward the
door.

The doctor tried to intercept him, but as the boy had reckoned, he
stuck his wooden leg into one of the holes, and was held fast.

Putting his finger to his nose, in token of derision, Tommy ran below
and securely fastened the large stone to the end of the wooden leg.

"Now I've got him hard and fast," said Tommy to himself.

In vain the doctor tried to extricate himself; he was, as it were,
rooted to the spot.

Returning to the room, Tommy seized the glass containing the salts and
senna.

"Drink this," he ordered.

"I won't. Am I to be dictated to by a boy?" replied the doctor. "What
on earth is the matter with my leg?"

"I've made it fast below. It's anchored."

"You scoundrel! I'll have you arrested. I'll give you six months. Go
and undo my leg."

"Not yet. You've got to take your medicine. Your blood wants cooling
off. I'll give you some leeches presently."

Tommy held the medicine to the doctor's lips, and forced him to drink
the contents, which very soon had a griping effect.

"Oh!" he cried, putting his hands to his vest, "this is awful!"

"Will you ever put leeches on me again?" said Tommy.

"Never in the wide world. Let me go, there's a good boy. I'll make you
a handsome present. I will indeed."

"Do you forgive me, and promise never to say a word about this?"

"Yes, yes."

"Then I'll undo the stone, but jest mind how you attack a poor boy
another time. I'm my own best friend, if I am alone in a strange
country."

"I'll be a father to you, Tommy."

"Yes, you will, over the left; but I'll let up on you this time, boss,"
said Tommy, who went downstairs and untied the stone.

Aided by Bobsey, he pulled the doctor out of the unpleasant
predicament in which he was placed, and set him down on a chair.

After a while the doctor said:

"Here's sixpence for you both. Run up to Mr. Garretson's with this
medicine, and let me know how he is."

On arriving at Mr. Garretson's house, they were informed that the
gentleman in question was dead.

"Could we see him, miss?" inquired Bobsey.

"The corpse is in that room on the left," replied the girl, pointing
to a door. "You can go in, but I can't stay, as I've got my work to do
downstairs."

The two boys entered the room where the dead body of Mr. Garretson
was lying. He was a little man, about seventy, and had died of some
internal complaint, which had defied the skill of his physician.

"The guv'ner would like to have that specimen," said Tommy.

"Yes," replied Bobsey. "I heard him say he'd give something for the
body, to make a hexamination of it, but he didn't think as how the
family would stand it."

"Let's wrap it up in a blanket, and take it down the road."

"What for?"

"So that the old man may have a show at it."

"Hi'm hagreeable," answered Bobsey, "only there'll be a jolly row about
it, I hexpect."

The idea was no sooner conceived than executed.

Rolling a blanket round the body, the boys carried it out of the house
without being perceived, and proceeded to the doctor's with their
remarkable burden.

They had not been gone long when the only son of Mr. Garretson, who had
been telegraphed for, arrived in a cab.

Sally opened the door, and recognizing him, at once said:

"He's gone at last, sir."

"So mother says in the dispatch. Where is mother now?"

"She's feeling bad, upstairs, sir."

"Then I won't disturb her at present. I'll take a look at it."

By "it" the son meant the corpse.

"It's in here, sir," said Sally, opening the door of the room, which
the boys had so lately robbed of its contents.

"I don't see anything," remarked the son.

"Well, I never did! It was there just now!" cried Sally, in alarm.

Young Garretson looked sternly at her.

"There is something wrong about this!" he exclaimed; "explain it."

Sally began to cry, and put the corner of her apron to her eyes.

"Wretched girl!" he continued, shaking her arm, "what have you done
with my father's body?"

"I ain't done nothing; but"--her face brightened--"it might have been
those two young varmints."

"What two young varmints?"

"Them as come from the doctor."

"Dr. Slasher's boys?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have they been here?"

"A few minutes ago. I let them in to see the deceased, and I'll swear
the corpse was all right then."

"Ha!" exclaimed the young man, "I see it all. This is an infamous
plot on the part of the doctor to obtain the body of my esteemed and
venerable parent for the purpose of dissection, but I'll frustrate it.
Rouse the neighbors!"

Young Garretson himself ran into the street, and was fortunate enough
to meet with a policeman, to whom he related his suspicions.

A crowd soon collected, and the news that the doctor had been stealing
a body spread with great rapidity.

Tommy and Bobsey managed to reach the house without molestation,
entered by the surgery door, and saw Dr. Slasher looking over the pages
of a medical book.

"Well," said the doctor, "how is Mr. Garretson?"

"He's come to answer for himself," replied Tommy.

"Indeed! I wasn't aware that he would ever again be able to leave his
bed," said the doctor, in astonishment.

"'Ere he is!" cried Bobsey, undoing the blanket.

"Why, what in the wide world is this?" asked the doctor, viewing the
ghastly corpse.

"We thought you wanted it, sir, and brought it along without anyone
seeing it," said Tommy.

"Dear me! This is a very complicated case, and I should like to
anatomize it extremely, but the people are so prejudiced--I may say
ignorant--that I am almost afraid you have done wrong."

"We can take it back when you're through with it, sir."

"I have a good mind to risk it."

Dr. Slasher eyed the corpse with an affectionate air.

Suddenly there was a noise in the street.

"What is all that?" he said, going to the window and looking out.

The uproar increased, and loud cries were raised, the doctor's name
being easily distinguishable amid groans and hisses.

"They have found it out. The neighborhood is roused. The street is
alive with people. I'm ruined!" exclaimed the doctor.

Bobsey and Tommy looked blankly at one another. No one spoke.

If the doctor was caught with the evidence of his guilt on the table
before him, the people would believe him to be a body snatcher, and
perhaps handle him roughly.

Tommy had made one of his charming blunders again. But an idea struck
him.

"I'd know what I'd do, sir," he said.

"What?" eagerly demanded the doctor.

"I'd put the body in Miss Minks' bed."

"Happy thought; she's downstairs, and will suspect nothing. We'll do
it," said the doctor.

"Good hagain! Brayvo for hour side! Who says we can't do it?" cried
Bobsey.

"Hurry!" said the doctor. "They'll never think of looking in her bed
for it, and at nighttime, when all is still, we'll get the body back to
its own house."

Miss Minks slept on the floor where the surgery was, and all the boys
had to do was to carry the body across the hall, from one room to the
other.

They deposited it in the bed of the maiden lady, and covered it up
carefully.

"All right?" asked the doctor, as they returned.

"Fixed it all up A 1," replied Tommy.

A heavy ringing was now heard at the surgery bell, and Miss Minks,
proceeding from the lower regions, answered it.

Mr. Garretson, accompanied by the policeman and followed by an
indignant crowd, appeared on the steps.

"What is your pleasure, gentlemen?" she asked.

"Where's Dr. Slasher?" asked the young man.

"In his surgery, where he will be pleased to see you, if you will step
in," she replied.

"I will do so," returned Mr. Garretson.

The policeman kept back the surging crowd, and the young man in search
of a father entered the doctor's surgery, where he was apparently
calmly reading, the boys being engaged in compounding various
medicines, and working away as if their lives depended upon their
exertions.




CHAPTER XV.

A HASTY TRIP.


We must now bestow some attention upon Mr. Smithers and his family,
whom we have left in the background since Tommy took his trip to
Liverpool.

When Charley Barker stepped down the gangway, in obedience to the
summons of the bell which ordered all on shore, he did not doubt that
Tommy was following him.

But when the communication between the steamer and the dock was shut
off he began to look curiously around him, for nothing whatever was to
be seen of his friend.

The ship slowly left her dock, and Charley Barker became aware of the
fact that, for some reason altogether unknown to him, Tommy had not
left with the other friends of the passengers.

Satisfied with this conviction, he returned quickly to his father's,
and having reported the safe bestowal of the coffin, hurried to Mr.
Smithers' house and communicated the facts of the case.

"Silly boy!" cried Mrs. Smithers. "He is always doing something stupid."

"Well, ma'am, all the boys say he's a little soft."

"I am in hopes he will grow out of that," said his mother. "But tell
me, Charley, do you think he'll come to any harm?"

"I guess not, ma'am. They'll make him work, that's all, and the
American consul at Liverpool is bound to send him back."

Charley Barker now retired, and the unhappy mother tried to comfort
herself with the reflection that the boy was on board an English ship,
bound to a well-known port, and among officers who would be kind to the
poor waif whom an accident had cast among them.

But her troubles were not over for that day.

To her surprise, a few minutes after Charley Barker had taken his
departure, Mr. Smithers entered the room, which was a very unusual
occurrence for him, as he usually did not make his appearance until
business at the store was over.

Throwing himself into a chair, he glanced at his wife, and remarked
that there were traces of silent tears in her eyes and on her cheeks.

"Crying again!" he exclaimed, petulantly. "I never saw such a woman.
You're always sniveling at something or another."

"Tommy's gone," she replied, bursting out weeping again.

"A good job, too. Where's he flitted to?"

"He went on board an ocean steamer with Charley Barker, and through his
carelessness or stupidity, did not go ashore with the others, and was
carried along."

"That boy's little better than a born idiot!" exclaimed Mr. Smithers,
unfeelingly.

"I'm sure he isn't that," replied the mother, checking her tears.

"I tell you he's the fool of the family, and I'm glad to be rid of him.
He'll fall on his legs--all these half-witted ones do--so dismiss that
from your mind, while I tell you a bit of real trouble."

She looked at him strangely. There was that in his bloodshot eyes, his
haggard appearance and somewhat disordered dress which induced her to
think that something very unusual had happened. Nor was she mistaken.

"Maria," he said, "I'm ruined; don't start or go into hysterics,
because there is no time for that. I didn't come home in the middle of
the day to lay off. I'm here to arrange for our immediate flight."

"Flight!" she stammered. "Where? how? what do you mean? What have you
done?"

"Embezzled my employer's money!"

This reply completely took Mrs. Smithers' breath away, for the
communication was totally unexpected. In the shock which this
announcement caused her Tommy's disappearance was quite forgotten.

"Maria," continued the wretched man, "I scarcely know how to act. You
must help me in this crisis."

"Have you been discovered?" she asked.

"I know not. This morning one of the partners asked me for my books,
which he wished to put into an accountant's hands. His suspicions are
aroused. My salary was only two thousand dollars a year and I have been
spending double. Even now the detectives may be after me."

"It is horrible!" said his wife, covering her face with her hands.

"There is no safety unless we flee," continued Smithers. "I have
collected a debt due the firm, on my way home, to have money enough to
go to the West. Let us pack up what is really necessary for ourselves
and the children. To-night at five there is an express train to Omaha.
Will you go?"

"I will," answered Mrs. Smithers.

"That is settled!" he exclaimed, with a sigh of relief, and kissing her
affectionately, he added:

"You are ever good to me, Maria."

"I am only returning the love you have always shown me," she rejoined.

"Get everything in readiness," he continued, "and I will be here with a
coach as the shades of night are falling. Heaven grant I may not be too
late."

Mrs. Smithers watched him depart, and then went about her work like one
in a dream, ransacking drawers and hastily packing up those things that
she deemed would be of the greatest use to them. While she was thus
occupied the children came in, and regarded her with astonishment.

"Mamma!" exclaimed Alice, "what are you doing?"

"My dear children," answered Mrs. Smithers, "circumstances have
occurred which render it necessary for your father to leave Jersey City
at once."

"Leave!" said Harold. "Where are we going to?"

"West. That is all I can tell you at present. Let it be sufficient for
you that a great calamity has befallen us."

She did not explain matters, as she wished to conceal her husband's
shame from his children.

"I don't believe it," said Harold, rudely.

"Nor I," replied Alice, in the habitual tone of disrespect which she
adopted when speaking to her mother.

"It's some dodge," continued Harold. "Charley Barker has just told us
about Tommy's going over to Europe, and I guess you want to steal all
you can and follow him."

"Harold! Alice!" she said. "I would have spared you the pain of what I
am going to tell you. It's only your wicked and undutiful conduct that
forces it from me."

"Oh, yes!" replied Harold, satirically, "you care a great deal for us,
we know that."

"A nice life we should have if it hadn't been for papa," chimed in
Alice.

"Will you listen to me?" pleaded Mrs. Smithers, who, unaccustomed to
exact obedience from the wayward children, did not know how to appease
their spite and anger.

"Go on, we're listening," answered Harold.

"Your papa has been stealing the money from his employers. They have
asked for his books, which are being examined by an accountant, and we
do not know from one hour to another when the police will be here."

The children looked blankly at one another.

This was a revelation which they had been far from expecting, as their
belief in their father's high standing and honor was so great that it
would have survived anything but such a rude shock as this.

"In about an hour's time," Mrs. Smithers went on, "your father will be
here with a coach, and we start for Omaha. Where we shall go from there
I can't tell, but if you are wise you will help me to pack and make the
best of this misfortune instead of grumbling any more."

Harold and Alice now hung down their heads for shame, and did not utter
another remark to their mother, though they conversed together in a low
tone.

At five o'clock everything was ready, and when the coach drove up the
trunks were put outside and the family occupied the interior.

They proceeded to the railway depot, all being silent and anxious.

Smithers had been obliged to sacrifice his furniture for a small sum to
a neighbor whom he could trust, and with all his worldly wealth in his
pocket, amounting to about a thousand dollars, he started for that part
of the American Continent known as the West.

Omaha was reached without any interference on the part of the
telegraph, which seemed to indicate that if his employers had actually
discovered his guilt, they either did not intend to prosecute him or
could not discover where he had gone.

Three days were spent in Omaha, during which time Smithers made up his
mind, according to information he had received, to locate in Silver
City, a rising mining town in Nevada.

The distance between Silver City and the nearest railroad station was
fifty miles or thereabouts.

When about halfway toward Silver City they met a man on horseback,
riding at speed. He had lost his hat, and appeared to be in the utmost
haste to leave some person or persons behind.

Seeing the approaching wagon, he drew rein, and Smithers stopped to
talk to him, hoping to gain some information as to the state of the
road and general condition of the country.

It had been hinted to him in more than one quarter that a band of
lawless depredators occupied a valley or pass in the hills known as
Dead Snake Canyon.




CHAPTER XVI.

OUT WEST.


As the stranger approached Smithers had an opportunity of observing
that he was about the middle age, bronzed by exposure to the weather,
and attired as befitted a raiser of stock or a farmer.

"Good-day," exclaimed Smithers. "What's the good word?"

"Good-day to you, stranger," answered the horseman. "I've nothing that
I'd like to tell you, but whether it scares you or not, I reckon it's
my duty to put you on your guard."

"Against what?"

"A thieving son of a gun who keeps in Dead Snake Canyon, which isn't
more than three miles ahead of you."

"Is he a robber?"

"You bet he is," was the answer. "Though I didn't think he'd rob me, as
I'm one of the boys myself. There isn't a man this side of the Rocky
Mountains who doesn't know Joe Brady, the gambler."

"But, Mr. Brady," exclaimed Smithers, "did he try to stop you?"

"All he knew. He and two others must have heard that I was leaving
Silver for Virginia City, and had considerable money about me, for they
rode out from behind a bluff and commenced shooting free."

"And you escaped?"

"I did. A bullet carried off my hat, but I turned in the saddle,
dropped one man, killed another's horse and the third turned tail and
fled."

"Is it possible?" gasped Smithers.

"Then I made the running at a two-twenty pace, you bet, for I thought
there might be more of them, and I never drew rein till I saw you in
the distance."

Mrs. Smithers regarded her husband blankly, and the trepidation which
this news caused the whole party to feel was written in their faces,
Alice and Harold becoming particularly pale.

"Can the sheriff and his posse do nothing in the premises?" inquired
Smithers.

"I guess neither the sheriff, nor the selectmen, nor the vigilance
committee care to attend to business which is so far from them."

"Do they know of it?"

"Indeed they do. This fellow--Capt. Jordan, as he calls himself--has
infested Dead Snake Canyon for a week or more, and has stopped a dozen
travelers; but he may stop a dozen more before he gets up the dander
of the Silver citizens. I was told of him, and that's what made me take
the disguise of an honest farmer."

"Perhaps they'll stop us," said Mrs. Smithers.

"That's a dead sure thing," answered Brady.

"Is there no other road, sir, that we could take to avoid this
desperado?" asked Smithers.

"None that I know of."

"What will we do?" said Smithers, with a groan of despair.

"Put your money in your boots and appeal to the fellow's generosity to
let you go on with your stores. Maybe he'll be after playing at higher
game than robbing a poor emigrant."

"Some of those men," remarked Smithers, "are said to have some
generosity."

"Oh, yes!" answered Joe Brady. "There was a fellow that practiced in
California, who would never rob a woman."

"Is it any use showing fight?" inquired Smithers, displaying a new
rifle and a brace of pistols.

"If you want your brains blown out on the prairie. No, no," answered
Brady. "Don't anger them. You're not strong enough. Who knows how many
there may be in the gang. What can one man do. Think of your wife and
children, and if you can't save your property, at least try to preserve
your life for their sake. And now, good-day and good luck to you,"
cried Joe Brady.

"The same to you," answered Smithers.

"Remember, I warned you."

"I'm not likely to forget."

The stranger made an inclination of the head to Mr. Smithers, and
putting spurs to his horse, was soon out of sight.

Smithers put the team in motion again, and the oxen labored along over
the rough, uneven road.

He had traversed two-thirds of the Dead Snake Canyon without meeting
with any human being, and was congratulating himself upon his escape
from Capt. Jordan.

But his congratulations were premature.

The canyon narrowed toward the extreme end, and certain cavernous
fissures in the rocks on the left-hand side seemed to indicate a sure
and safe hiding place for marauders.

A huge mass of rock lay directly in the path. It appeared as if it had
been detached from the parent basalt by some tremendous convulsion of
nature.

Finding it necessary to make a slight detour to avoid the obstacle,
Smithers turned the heads of the oxen.

Scarcely had he turned a dozen yards before two men on foot stepped out
from behind the rock. This had been their hiding place.

Crape masks covered their faces, and served effectually to conceal
their features.

The foremost, who appeared to be the leader, exclaimed, in a commanding
voice:

"Halt!"

Smithers, who was by no means a brave man, trembled in every limb.

Both men were armed with pistols, which, as if to increase the man's
terror, they leveled at his head, and with such an accuracy of aim that
he could see by the direction of the muzzle that he was completely
covered.

Mr. Smithers halted the oxen, Mrs. Smithers and the children crouched
down in the wagon and furtively watched the actions of the robbers.

"Hold up your arms!" commanded the captain.

Smithers did as he was directed, and extended his arms in the air.

"Where are you from, and what have you got?" was the next question.

"From Jersey City, and last from Omaha," replied Smithers. "I have
a few stores in the wagon, and very little money. It is all I have
to keep my wife and two children. Gentlemen, for pity's sake, don't
deprive us of our only means of gaining a livelihood!"

"Oh, drop on yourself!" answered the captain, impatiently. "Play light!
What are you?--a ranting preacher?"

"I was a dry-goods clerk, sir."

"What made you quit Jersey City? No lies now!"

"I--I robbed my employers, sir, and had to leave," replied Smithers, in
some confusion.

The other laughed.

"That's a good joke!" he exclaimed. "You steal all you can lay your
hands on, and then object to being robbed in your turn. Turn and turn
about's a square deal, you know."

He advanced to the wagon.

"Get out of there! Hurry up!" he commanded.

The children hastened to comply with this order, for the man's
appearance was so fierce, and the tone of his voice so brutal, that
they were afraid he would shoot them without mercy.

Mrs. Smithers was the last to alight.

The captain extended his hand to assist her, but started back as soon
as he beheld her face.

"Je-rusalem!" he muttered.

She stood before him calmly, and said, in a voice that trembled with
emotion:

"Pray spare us, sir! We are very poor, and----"

"Stop that chinning!" cried the man, in a voice somewhat gruffer, if
possible, than that he had formerly employed, and which afforded a
presumption that he was striving to disguise it.

She was silent instantly.

"Ben," said the captain, "take this woman away and place her--you know
where. I'll attend to the bloke and the kids."

Mrs. Smithers shrunk to the side of her husband, as if to demand that
protection which she nevertheless knew he could not afford to give her.

Smithers, however, ventured to lower one of his arms, which he put
around her waist.

Scarcely had he done so than a bullet whizzed over his head.

"What did I tell you?" cried the captain. "Up with that hand!"

He was fain to do as he was told, and the hand was removed from his
wife's waist, to point once more toward the sky.

Ben, as the captain had called his companion, now seized Mrs. Smithers
by the arm.

She resisted his attention, and uttered scream after scream; but her
strength was unavailing to cope with the superior force of the ruffian,
and she was gradually dragged from the spot toward one of the cavernous
recesses formed in the rocks to which we have previously alluded.

When she had finally disappeared from view, the captain turned his gaze
upon Smithers.

"Are these two all your children?" he inquired.

"Yes," replied Smithers. "That is, my wife had a child by a former
husband, a sort of vagabond fellow, and----"

"What do you say?" cried the captain, his eyes flashing angrily through
his mask.

"I beg your pardon, sir, if he is any friend of yours; but the man
pretended to be dead; he turned up, however, and is now, I am informed,
in prison."

"So that woman is not your wife?"

"I account her so, because we all thought this Thompson dead."

"If her first husband lives, as you state, she belongs to him, as does
the child."

"The child is a soft creature, and he is welcome to him, if he can find
him, though it would be difficult to do so, as he has gone on a trip to
Europe."

"Go!" exclaimed the captain; "I shall not touch your stores or your
money, on condition that you say nothing about being robbed when you
reach Silver City."

Smithers was silent.

"What!" cried the robber, angrily; "will you not purchase your life and
your property at so cheap a price?"

"I want my wife, whom you have no right to detain. Take all I have, and
give me her!" exclaimed Smithers.

"By your own admission, all you are entitled to are these children,"
said the captain. "Do you comply with my conditions, or shall I shoot
you where you stand?"

"No, no!" exclaimed Smithers, shrinking back from the uplifted pistol.
"Life is sweet! life is precious!"

"Swear!"

"I do!"

"Then get along with your wagon and your brats. Recollect that if
anyone breaks faith with me, I will follow him to the end of the world
and square accounts with him."

"You shall have no cause."

"Git!" said the captain, in a contemptuous tone.

Harold and Alice once more climbed into the wagon and Smithers caused
the oxen to resume their journey.

He was glad to have escaped so easily, but he felt very mean and
contemptible when he thought that he had allowed his wife to be carried
off before his eyes without raising a finger to help her.




CHAPTER XVII.

KILLED BY HIS FATHER.


When Smithers reached Silver City he felt sure that the people would
help him to rescue her, but he was afraid to make any noise about it.

Not that he had valued the oath he had taken, but he remembered the
robber's threat, and was alarmed lest he might have been shot, for not
keeping faith with him. What the desperado's motive was for making a
prisoner of Mrs. Smithers he could not imagine. With the resignation
of a self-seeking coward, he made up his mind that she was lost to him
forever. "Papa," said Alice, "won't you try to get mamma away from that
awful, mean man?"

"I fear, my dear," he replied, "that the attempt would not only be
attended with great danger, but would also be useless."

"Shall we never see her again?"

"Never," answered the coward, emphatically.

"I don't care much," said Harold; "we can get along just as well
without her as with her."

"But she is our mother," exclaimed Alice, "and I am very sorry for
ever being rude and naughty to her, and I don't want to lose her. If
papa won't try to get her back again, I will."

"You?" said her father, in astonishment.

"Yes. I feel very bad about poor mamma, and I never knew how much I
loved her till now."

As she spoke she got out of the wagon.

"Where are you going?" asked Smithers.

"I'm going to ask that bold, bad man to let mamma go, and if he won't,
he'll have to keep me, too, for I won't leave her."

"What madness is this?" cried her father.

"Oh, Alice was always a spoony, little fool," replied Harold.

"I've been very wicked to mamma," said Alice, setting her lips firmly
together, "and I see it all now; but I should not have been if you,
papa, and Harold had not told me not to mind her."

She began to walk back toward the canyon.

"Come back!" shouted Smithers. "I can't allow this, Harold, go and stop
her."

"Go and stop her yourself," answered Harold. "I can't be bothered
running after girls."

Mr. Smithers bit his lip till the blood came.

He had brought his son up to be undutiful and rebellious against his
mother, and now he was reaping some of the crop, the seed of which he
had sown.

Now he realized the full force of the saying that "it is sharper than a
serpent's tooth to have a thankless child."

"Bring her back, I say," roared Smithers, who was nearly beside himself
with vexation.

Still Harold did not move.

He sat on the front seat of the wagon with provoking coolness, and did
not seem in the least alarmed at the display of parental wrath with
which he was favored.

The fact was he had never been brought up to respect either father or
mother, and he had arrived at an age when it is rather late to begin to
inculcate lessons of filial obedience.

Hearing her father shout, Alice became alarmed lest he would follow and
bring her back.

In his angry state of mind, and in that wild and desolate wilderness,
he might even whip her.

So she commenced to run at the top of her speed, and her form grew dim
and more indistinct every minute, as a slight haze was descending from
the hills and enveloping the valley in mist.

"Confound you!" said Smithers to Harold, "will you do what I told you?"

"What?" asked Harold, with the same provoking calmness.

"Don't ask me questions, when you know very well what I mean. Go after
your sister."

"Oh, she's all right. The robbers won't hurt her, and you know very
well where she has gone."

Smithers was now in an ungovernable fury. His troubles and trials of
late had not served to improve what was always a hasty temper, and to
add to this he had given way to habits of drinking since quitting New
York.

Even that morning he had indulged in sundry drams, which he had taken
from a flask he carried in his pocket.

"If you don't do what I tell you, by thunder! I'll make you!" he cried.

Invitingly near him, at the rear of the wagon, were his pistols. He
seized one and pointed it at Harold.

"Now, you young whelp!" he almost screamed, so beside himself was he
with excitement, "will you obey me?"

"I'm all hunk," replied Harold, thinking his father was only trying to
frighten him.

At that moment the pistol exploded. Whether Smithers pulled the trigger
intentionally or whether it went off accidentally, we will charitably
leave open to doubt. Certain it is that Harold fell from the wagon to
the ground, which instantly became deluged with his blood. He groaned
heavily, as if suffering acute agony. With a cry of alarm, Smithers
cast the pistol from him, as if it had been a snake.

"Good Heaven! what have I done?" he exclaimed.

Running to the side of Harold, he raised up his head. The eyes were
glazing fast, and he drew his breath with the utmost difficulty.

"Oh, Harold, my boy!" cried the wretched father. "Speak to me, speak!"

"Father, forgive," was all the boy could gasp.

"For Heaven's sake! say you are not dying, Harold--my own! Speak to
me, Harold!" A faint smile curled round the corners of his livid lips.
There was a rattling sound in the throat, and Harold had ceased to live.

"Oh, Heaven, be good to me. I have slain my son!" exclaimed Smithers,
throwing himself on the ground in a paroxysm of grief.

He remained in a condition of stupor for more than an hour, resembling
a man who had been stunned by a heavy blow.

At length he roused himself, and rising, looked around with a shudder.

There lay the body of his son Harold, stiff and cold in the embrace of
death. No blandishments, no caresses, no power on earth could bring him
back to life.

In the midst of that solitude an awful sense of loneliness stole over
the soul of the guilty man.

He was the murderer of his child. His wife was a captive in the hands
of a robber, and his daughter Alice had gone to join in her captivity.
All--all had left him.

He was alone in the world--he, who a few short hours before had been
blessed with the happy companionship of wife and children. It was
almost more than he could bear.

Mechanically he sought in the wagon for a shovel, and in a listless
manner began to dig a grave.

The coyotes had smelt blood, and were barking at a distance.

Overhead flew the lazy buzzards, for their instinct, too, told them
that death was near.

An hour's work made the grave deep enough for the body, and
reverentially he laid it in.

When he had filled it up with earth he sought for stones and piled a
rough cairn over all that remained of the once haughty and spoiled
child, Harold.

Dropping a tear over the grave, Smithers struck the oxen with the whip,
and the heavy wagon rolled sluggishly on toward Silver City.

Deep down in his breast Smithers carried his weight of woe, and vainly
tried to drown his load of grief and care by repeated draughts of fiery
spirits.

But the attempt was useless, for the fire in his heart was raging
fiercely.




CHAPTER XVIII.

"WHO BREAKS, PAYS."


The doctor listened to the complaint made by the son of the dead man,
and assured him that he knew nothing of the theft of the corpse, when
suddenly a piercing shriek was heard in the hallway.

"That is my housekeeper's voice," said the doctor. "What has happened?"
He rushed out of the room. "Miss Minks," exclaimed the doctor, meeting
her in the passage, "why this excitement?"

"Doctor," she answered, "some one has had the audacity to enter my
sleeping apartment, and has actually got into my bed. I have spoken
to him in vain, and am under the impression that he must be grossly
intoxicated."

Garretson, suspecting the truth, snatched the lamp from one hand, and
entered the room. One glance at the bed showed him that his suspicions
were well founded.

When Miss Minks realized the fact that she had been speaking to a
corpse, she sank into a chair and fainted away; but as nobody took the
least notice of her she speedily came to, and contented herself with
groaning terribly.

It is probable that the mob would have done some serious injury to the
doctor, notwithstanding the presence of the constable, had not Tommy
come to the rescue.

"I must own up," he said to Bobsey.

"If you do, we shall be bounced," replied Bobsey; "and then what will
we do?"

"I can't help it," said Tommy, "a joke's a joke, but the doctor mustn't
suffer for our fun."

"You're a fool! Don't do it."

"I'll have to," replied Tommy.

Saying this he approached Mr. Garretson, and touched him on the
shoulder.

"If you please, sir!" he exclaimed, "I and another boy did this. The
doctor knew nothing about it."

Mr. Garretson regarded him angrily.

"Where is the other boy?" he said. "You must both be punished for such
an outrage on decency and propriety."

Bobsey, however, wasn't to be found.

The doctor was much relieved by Tommy's avowal, and said:

"You see, sir, that what I told you was the simple truth. These
mischievous boys have made all the trouble."

"Well," replied Garretson, "as the old story has it, 'who breaks,
pays,' and he must suffer for it."

In his hand he carried a small cane, which he raised to strike Tommy,
but the latter did not at all relish the prospect of a caning.

He ducked his head, and darting past the young man, gained the head of
the kitchen stairs, down which he ran, emerging soon afterward in the
street.

His quick eye soon detected Bobsey, who had climbed to the top of a
lamp-post to get a better view of what was going on inside.

When he heard Tommy's voice calling him, he descended from his elevated
position and joined him.

"What shall we do now?" inquired Tommy.

"Don't you want to get 'ome again?" asked Bobsey.

"Nothing I should like so much, but where's the money to come from?"

"Come on with me, right away, and we'll 'ave a good try of it anyhow.
I've got a few shillings to live on vile we're looking for a ship, and
I reckon ve'll be foolish to hang about 'ere hany longer, as that cop
hon the door-step looks has hif he vas seeking for hus."

This advice was too good to be neglected, and Tommy put himself by the
side of Bobsey, who started off down the street at a quick pace.

They walked to the east end of London, and passing over Tower Hill,
gained the extensive docks which line that side of the river Thames.

Their long walk had made them tired, and they gladly sat down on an
old barrel, behind them being an extensive range of warehouses, and
in front, floating in the basin, a number of ships, which were either
taking in or discharging cargo.

The ship nearest them was named the _Eliza Ann_, which name they read
on the stern, followed by the words New York.

"That's our chance," exclaimed Tommy. "I'll bet she's come over with
grain or oil, and if there's any man aboard of her who knows Jersey
City, you can put up your pile we're all hunk."

"Here's a chap coming down the side. Speak to him," replied Bobsey. "We
want some place to sleep to-night, and if we're going to strike a ship,
it may as well be done hat once."

The man approached the boys, and saved Bobsey the trouble of speaking
first by addressing them with the remark:

"What are you loafing about here for?"

"Looking for work, sir," replied Bobsey.

"Who do you think is going to employ a cockney like you?" answered the
man. "Get out of here."

"Vell," said Bobsey, "you needn't be so huffish habout it. Do you own
that vessel?"

"None of your business; but, if you want to know, I'm first officer."

"If you've hany hinterest in the domestic harrangements," said Bobsey,
"you might hintroduce hus two has cabin boys, you know."

The first officer of the _Eliza Jane_ put his hands in his pockets, and
spit out a chew of tobacco.

"Do you know what cabin boys' pay is?" he asked.

"No, sir," replied Bobsey.

"It's more kicks than half pence, and if you like to take that I'll
ship you."

"Thank you, sir," cried Tommy, eagerly. "I only want to get to Jersey
City."

"What!" cried the man, "are you a Yankee boy?"

"You can bet I am."

"Shake on that, sonny," cried the officer. "I'm glad to meet a
countryman, if he is young and out of luck."

"Do you come from Jersey City?" inquired Tommy.

"I do, and I fancy I've seen your face somewhere. Didn't you travel
with Charley Barker, the undertaker's son?"

"Yes, sir," replied Tommy, eying the officer delightedly.

"And your name is----"

"Tommy Smithers."

At this answer the officer's face became very grave. He hesitated a
moment.

"See here," he said. "They call me Boston Charley, and those who know
me will tell you that I'm no tale carrier, but since I've happened to
strike you in this odd way I'll let you know what I heard. Your father
had to skip pretty lively from his home, and it is rumored that he went
West--some say to California, some to Nevada."

"What for?"

"Well, if you must hear it, because he robbed his employers."

This announcement was a great shock to Tommy.

"Did mother go with him?" he inquired.

"Yes," replied Boston Charley. "They went together at a moment's
notice."




CHAPTER XIX.

BOUND HOME.


"My friend and I have lost our situations through a joke," he
exclaimed, "and we want to leave this country. Will you take us along
with you?"

"Now you're talking, sonny," answered Boston Charley. "This ship is
going to San Francisco, and if you want the straight tip, as these
Londoners say, we don't have any use for boys aboard."

Tommy's countenance fell at this declaration.

"Couldn't you make room for us, sir?" he asked.

"In consideration of your being a fellow citizen, I'll chance it,"
answered the officer. "The cap and I are pretty good friends, and I
guess I can fix it for you to-morrow. Meanwhile you can go aboard and
bunk in the fo'castle to-night."

Boston Charley nodded kindly to them, and walked away, whistling a
popular air.

"I say, boy," cried Tommy, "we're in luck."

"That's what I'm thinking," answered Bobsey; "and I'll tell you where
that cove's head was solid. He's going to enjoy himself, and vy
shouldn't ve do the same thing? Let's go on a jolly good racket, our
two selves, and ven ve're on the briny ocean we shall have nothing to
reproach ourselves with."

"I don't care," replied Tommy.

They found out a coffee shop, where they enjoyed a cheap supper, after
which they went to the gallery of a theater, at which a drama was
played representing the trials and temptations which beset Jack ashore.

Much delighted with their evening's entertainment, at midnight they
reached home--that is to say, the ship; but the watch wouldn't
admit them on board, and they had to sleep on the ground among some
merchandise.

It was late in the morning when Boston Charley made his appearance. A
few words informed him of the state of the case, and he took the boys
on board the ship, where a few words spoken to the captain insured them
a passage to California.

The captain was a tall, swarthy Spaniard of the name of Diaz, and
Boston Charley gave the boys a little advice respecting their behavior
to him.

"Lads," he said, in an undertone, "our skipper's ugly when he drinks.
Don't you never sass him, because he'd as lief take a knife to you as
use his fist, and I don't suppose you want to slip your cable just yet."

"Not much," answered Tommy.

At two o'clock the tide swerved, and the ship started on her voyage.

Capt. Diaz did not behave badly until the third week of the voyage,
when it was evident from his flushed countenance that he had been
indulging in intoxicating liquors. He would walk sullenly up and down
the deck, with a rattan in his hand, giving orders one minute and
contradicting them the next.

Bobsey was one morning engaged in coiling a rope, which he didn't do
with the neatness and regularity which he should have observed.

"Boy," said Capt. Diaz, "do that over again, or I'll lay it over your
back."

Bobsey looked up angrily at him.

"I'm doing it as well as I know how," he replied.

"Don't answer me!" shouted the captain, whose object seemed to be to
pick a quarrel with some one.

"If you don't want to be answered," said the boy, "what did you speak
to me for?"

"You confounded young whelp, I'll cut the heart out of you!" said the
captain, raising his rattan.

The next moment it descended sharply on the boy's shoulders.

Bobsey was no coward, and big as the captain was, he did not hesitate
to tackle him.

Dropping on his knees, he seized his leg with his teeth like a dog, and
bit him severely on the calf.

The captain roared with pain.

Finding the boy did not let loose, he drew his knife, as Boston Charley
had said he would, and made a lunge at Bobsey.

It took effect between the shoulders, causing him to relinquish his
hold and fall back on the deck bleeding profusely.

This scuffle had been watched by some of the sailors, who cried
"Shame!" but knowing the desperate character of the captain, they did
not dare to interfere on the boy's behalf.

Boston Charley was below, as was Tommy, and the first intimation they
had of the captain's attack was given them by a sailor who cried down
the hatch:

"Hurry up! The skipper's stabbed a boy!"

"By thunder! it'll be bad for him if he has!" cried Boston Charley.

He and Tommy hastened on deck, and were just in time to see Capt. Diaz
take up the form of Bobsey, hold it a second in the air, and then cast
it into the sea, as if it had been a log of wood.

Tommy did not hesitate a moment.

With the utmost bravery he precipitated himself into the sea and struck
out bravely to rescue his friend.

He could not tell whether he was seriously injured or not.

He might be mortally wounded; and again he might only be slightly hurt;
at all events, he was determined to do all in his power for him.

Boston Charley here took it upon himself to do the best he could in
the crisis for the safety of the boys, as Capt. Diaz did not raise his
voice in their behalf. In a clear, ringing voice the first officer
ordered the helm down and the sails to be lowered, while he threw over
the side a couple of hencoops. In a short time the ship's course was
altered, and Tommy, who had caught hold of Bobsey's right arm, was
under the lee gangway.

"Lower a boat there," commanded the officer. "Lower away lively, my
lads."

"_Carambo!_" cried the captain, rousing himself at last, "who is
commander here?"

"When you so far forget yourself as you have done," replied Boston
Charley, eying him sternly, "it becomes the duty of every man in the
ship to let you know that they no longer regard you as their captain."

"You mutinous Yankee dog!" screamed the captain, hoarse with passion.

"Capt. Diaz," answered the officer, "I want you to know that an
American is as good as a Spaniard, and though you are part owner of
this vessel, I don't give a snap of the finger for you."

The captain brandished the knife threateningly.

"Put up that skewer," said the mate, contemptuously. "I'm not a boy."

The only reply which Diaz made to this defiant and somewhat irritating
speech was to aim a blow at the speaker.

But Boston Charley, with the rapidity of lightning, drew a pistol from
his pocket and sent a bullet through the fleshy part of the captain's
right arm.

The knife fell from his grasp, and the injured limb hung uselessly by
his side, while its owner reeled against the mast.

"I'll have a terrible revenge for this!" hissed the captain between his
teeth.

Boston Charley paid no further attention to him.

The boat had been lowered, and while the altercation was going on the
sailors had picked up both Tommy and the wounded boy.

They were just in time, for Tommy was nearly exhausted.

When Bobsey was laid on the deck Tommy bent over him, peering curiously
into his face.

The mate took him by the arm and led him away, as his experienced eye
told him that the lad was dead.

"Oh! don't take me away!" cried Tommy. "He is the only friend I've got."

The mate pointed with his finger to the sky.

"He has a Friend up aloft, sonny, and that's the only one he will want
now," he said.

Capt. Diaz had remained in a motionless condition for more than five
minutes, but his eyes watched the movements of Boston Charley with the
restlessness of a lynx.

All at once he stooped down and picked up the knife which had dropped
from his hand when the mate shot him.

He held it in his left hand, and with a demoniac yell he rushed upon
Boston Charley.

"Look out!" cried Tommy, who, seeing that Charley had his back turned
to the enemy, feared he would be assassinated.

Turning sharply around, the mate did not hesitate a moment in drawing
out his pistol.

He had not a second to lose. In fact, so sudden was the captain's
attack upon him, that he had not time to take aim, so he fired at
random, and Capt. Diaz fell, mortally wounded, by the side of the boy
whom, in a moment of passion, he had so foully murdered a short time
before.

The crew, who had watched this series of events in surprise and horror,
now ran aft.

"Boys," cried Boston Charley, "I call you all to witness that I did
this in self-defense."

The men showed the feeling they had in the matter by seizing the body
of the captain and casting it overboard with as little concern as he
had shown in disposing of the boy Bobsey.

Boston Charley now took command of the ship, and was obeyed by the men
as if he was entitled to the position.

Tommy's life was now made much easier, for he only had to wait on the
new captain.

"A penny for your thoughts, my boy," exclaimed the captain one day, as
he noticed Tommy in a melancholy mood.

"You shall have them for nothing, sir," replied Tommy. "I was wondering
how I could find out my folks."

"Tell you what, Tommy," said the captain, "when we reach 'Frisco I'll
take all the money that's coming to me, and we'll start for Nevada
together."

"You and I, sir?" asked Tommy, with great joy at the prospect of having
such a good traveling companion.

"Yes; I guess there is more money in mining than seafaring, and I'll
try my luck."

Boston Charley did not waver in his resolution. When the ship reached
San Francisco, and the crew were paid off by the owner, he, with Tommy,
started at once for Nevada.

He had taken quite a fancy to Tommy, and treated him with as much care
and attention as a father would bestow on a son.




CHAPTER XX.

TOMMY'S COURAGEOUS RESOLVE.


Leaving Tommy to pursue his journey, we must return to Smithers, who,
it will be remembered, wended his solitary way toward Silver City,
after the capture of his wife by the robbers, the desertion of his
daughter Alice, who ran to her mother's assistance, and the shocking
death of Harold.

Trying to dismiss all the unpleasant recollections of the day from his
mind, Smithers drank more whisky, and in time reached the city to which
he had emigrated.

Entering the city through a spacious street which was named Broadway,
he then halted his wagon.

A man of tall stature and cadaverous cast of countenance, who was
lounging in front of a saloon, with his hands in his pockets and a
cigar in his mouth, approached the wagon, eyed it critically, and then
regarded Smithers with an inquisitive air.

"Born East, I calculate, stranger?" he said.

"Yes," replied Smithers.

"I'm glad to make your acquaintance. I'm Maj. Allston, and well known
in this town."

The major might have added that he was too well known to be trusted,
for, though a smart, clever man, he made a scanty and precarious living
by his wits.

"See here, major," said Smithers, "I'm a stranger, and not posted. You
can call me Smithers. I've got a few hundred dollars and the goods in
the wagon. My intention was to open a corner grocery to get a living."

"Won't do; there are too many of them. I'll tell you what to do, and
you can bet your life that I know this community better than you," said
the major.

"I guess you ought to."

"You take me into partnership, and we'll run a game. The boys round
here are all gamblers, and there are three games in full blast every
night, all making money--dead piles of it--and no skin at that. Sail
right in with me. I know all the boys, and I can work the racket."

"But where's your share of the capital?"

Maj. Allston touched his forehead.

"Here," he said. "I've talent and experience. That's worth all the
money you can put into the concern. Is it a go?"

Desperate and callous as he was, Smithers did not care much what he
did; he fancied that running a faro bank was an easy business, and less
tiresome than working hard all day behind the counter of a store.

"I'll do it," he replied, after a momentary pause for consideration.

"Shake on that," cried the major, in a high state of delight.

"Well, partner," exclaimed Smithers, "I'm in your hands now. What shall
we do first?"

"Leave it all to me. I'll sell the wagon, team and stores to my friend
who keeps that saloon behind me. We'll engage his rooms over the store,
and hire a nigger to wait on the guests. I've got all the tools for
the game, and we'll open to-morrow night. I believe in doing things
quickly--that's me. Come and take a drink on me."

Smithers made no objection. Whichever way the current of his fate ran,
he was willing to go with it just then.

The major certainly showed himself a man of brains. In a couple of
hours he had sold the stores, wagon, and team, engaged the rooms for
the game, with the sleeping apartments overhead, hired a negro, and
begun business, which proved very successful.

One afternoon, when the major and his partner were in the gaming rooms
discussing their future prospects, there was a ring at the bell below.

The negro descended the stairs and saw a boy on the sidewalk, who
looked tired, worn and travel-stained.

"What do you want, sonny, hey?" asked the negro, eying him suspiciously.

"If you please," replied the boy, "I want a job, and they told me that
perhaps the major, who keeps here, would require an office lad."

"Go 'long; take yourself off right away," answered Cæsar, "we've no
use for boys here. If you're hungry I'll gib you ten cents to buy some
molasses and a bit of bacon."

"It's work I want," rejoined the boy. "I have been informed that I've
a relative in this town, but I can't find him. I and a friend came
from San Francisco, but the Indians attacked us, killed my friend, and
robbed us of all we had. Speak to your boss for me."

Hearing that there was some conversation going on downstairs, Smithers
exclaimed:

"What do you stand chinning there for?"

The boy started as he heard the voice.

"I must go upstairs!" he exclaimed. Rushing forward, the boy upset the
darky, and sprang up the stairs, at the head of which Mr. Smithers was
standing.

"Who are you, and what do you want here?" asked the latter.

"Don't you know me?"

"Why, yes, I think I do. Is it--can it be----"

Smithers hesitated.

"It is I--Tommy," replied our hero. "Oh! father, I never felt so glad
in my life as I do at striking you."

"How did you find me out?" asked Smithers, who did not appear well
pleased at the encounter.

"I heard you were here, and I started with a friend to discover you.
The redskins killed my friend, and I came on alone."

The major had been listening to this conversation, and he beckoned to
the boy.

"Where's your mother?" he asked.

"She came with father," was the reply.

Smithers smothered an oath.

"Father," exclaimed Tommy, "I've gone through a deal since I left
Jersey City, and I've come here chiefly to see mother! Where is she?"

"Dead!"

"And little Alice and Harold?"

"Dead also!"

The tears came into Tommy's eyes.

The major looked intently at Smithers.

"Say, pard," he exclaimed, "why didn't you tell me this before? Did you
see your family shot down?"

"No, but they were captured by Capt. Jordan."

"Didn't it ever occur to you that, if you'd been a man, you would have
raised a hand for them? If you'd told me, if you'd said a word to the
boys we'd have made a raid on the Snake Canyon, and Jordan wouldn't
have stopped any more travelers."

Tommy looked up with determination.

"If father hasn't courage enough to go after mamma, I'll go by myself!"
he exclaimed.

"Bully for you, my boy," said the major.

"What's the use, she's dead and gone now; don't talk like a fool,
Tommy," remarked Smithers.

"The boy's no fool," answered the major. "I honor him for his resolve,
and I'll give him a pistol to fight with."

He took one from his pocket, and presented it to Tommy.

"That's to rescue your mother with," he continued.

"Thank you, sir," replied Tommy.

"If you're not back in three days I'll raise all Silver City, and we'll
root out this robber, if he hasn't skipped, but I'll bet a five-dollar
bill that you capture Capt. Jordan."

Tommy bestowed a look of gratitude upon Maj. Allston, and kept at a
respectable distance from Smithers.

A man at this moment entered the apartment, and hearing the remark,
exclaimed:

"I'll see to that."

Maj. Allston turned round and looked curiously at the stranger.

"You'll do what?" he asked.

"I'll raise you fifty dollars, and you daren't go me a cent better."

"On what?"

"The bet you just made, to the effect that this boy would capture me."

"You!" cried the major, in surprise. "I never saw you before, and
certainly did not speak of you."

"You are wrong in both cases," replied the stranger.

"How?"

"We met three years ago in California, when I saved you from being
hanged for a horse thief."

"Great Scott!" cried the major. "Who are you?"

"Then I was Pedro Gormez, the bandit; now I am Capt. Jordan, on the
same graft."

"By thunder! cap, you're right!" said the major. "I was doomed to
swing, and if it hadn't been for you and your brave boys I shouldn't be
sitting in this chair now."

Capt. Jordan, the robber of the Dead Snake Canyon, sat down.

"What brings you here, cap?" asked the major. "It isn't exactly safe
for you to be in the city. If the boys knew it----"

"That's what I came about, knowing I could count on you, owing to that
little service I did you down in California."

"Yes, yes."

"I keep myself posted, and I heard that the boys were going to make a
raid on the canyon."

"They did talk of it," replied the major.

"Well, I want you to stop that. I'm going to quit in a day or two, and
shall not give your people any more trouble."

"I'll see to it," said the major.

Suddenly Smithers left the room, but quiet as had been his movements,
his absence was noticed by the bandit.

"Where has that cur gone?" he inquired.

"I'll be hanged if I know," replied the major.

"Gone to raise the town, I guess," said Capt. Jordan. "Well, I won't
give him the chance. My horse is outside, and I'll skip."

"Good-day, cap. Come and see me again," said the major.

Capt. Jordan moved toward the door.

Tommy placed himself before him.

"You don't go from here," he exclaimed, "before you tell me about my
mother."

"She is quite well, so is Alice. As for Harold, you must ask the man
you call your father about him, for his hand is red with his boy's
blood."

"Why don't you let mamma go away?" asked Tommy.

"Simply because she doesn't want to," was the reply.

Tommy smiled disdainfully, as if he did not believe this.

"Come and see for yourself," exclaimed the robber. "I will promise not
to harm a hair of your head."

"That's a fair offer, and I accept it."

"You will come?"

"Expect me to-morrow."

The robber nodded his head approvingly, and quitted the room.

Tommy sank into a chair and looked down, as if trying to recollect
something.

"What's troubling you?" asked the major.

"I've seen that man somewhere, and I can't recollect where," he replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite. The face is as familiar to me as my own."

He tapped his forehead with his finger, but the recollection would
not come to him, though he was positive that he had seen Capt. Jordan
somewhere or another.

His remarks about his mother he could not understand, for it seemed
incredible that she would choose to remain a prisoner in the bandit's
cave. All was a mystery to him.

He was roused from his lethargy by the sound of voices in the street.

A pistol shot was heard. This was followed by another and another.

Rushing to the window, whither the major had preceded him, he saw a man
on horseback dashing wildly up the street.

This was the robber captain.

Smithers had met the sheriff of Silver City, and given the alarm, which
caused a body of citizens to assemble.

The robber had barely time to mount his horse and ride for dear life.

Fortunately for him, the shots which were fired did not touch either
him or his horse, and he made his escape.




CHAPTER XXI.

FINDING A FATHER.


Smithers returned to the room.

"I'll have to break with you," exclaimed the major, "if you go on this
way."

"What for?" asked Smithers.

"Didn't you hear that fellow say that he had saved my life? See here,"
continued the major, "I want you to understand that you can't play fast
and loose with me. Capt. Jordan will think I put up a job on him."

The major continued to grumble, but Smithers took no notice either of
him or Tommy.

In an hour's time it grew dark, and while the partners were preparing
for the business of the evening, Tommy being very tired, stole off to a
bed which had been prepared for him in the house.

It was some time, however, before he could get to sleep.

He was haunted by the face of Capt. Jordan, and in vain tried to
remember where he had seen it before. That it was familiar to him he
was certain.

"I know him, I know him," he muttered, "but to save my life I
can't place him. However, I'll go to the cavern in the Snake Canyon
to-morrow, and then----"

He broke off abruptly.

What would happen then, he could not tell, but he felt assured that
important events were about to take place, which would influence his
future career.

Early in the morning he descended from his bedroom. No one was about.
The major and Smithers had kept the gaming room open till four o'clock,
and then went to bed.

Passing through the city he walked over the prairie until he came
within sight of the Dead Snake Canyon.

Scarcely had he entered the valley than he was surprised to hear the
voice of Capt. Jordan.

"Welcome, my lad," he cried. "Your mother is waiting to see you. Follow
me."

A winding path conducted them to the entrance to the cavern in which
the robber lived.

In a rude vault, illuminated by the rays of the sun, Tommy saw Mrs.
Smithers seated on a roughly made chair, with Alice by her side.

She rose hastily, and embraced him with every demonstration of fondness.

"My dear, dear child, I am so glad to see you once more," she cried.
"How much you must have gone through since we last met."

Tommy returned her caresses, and replied:

"I am happy now, mamma, because I have found you. But why do you stay
here?"

"I have my reasons," she replied.

"You would go if you could?" he asked.

"No, my child. I am happy and contented. Soon we shall leave here
and----"

"We?" interrupted Tommy. "Do you include Capt. Jordan?"

"I do."

"But he is a robber."

"He will give up this life, and we shall live happily. It is not his
fault, he has told me all. With me to guide him he will reform."

"What is he to you, mother?" said Tommy, in perplexity.

Capt. Jordan was standing close by. Looking at him, she exclaimed:

"Shall I tell him?"

"Yes," was the laconic reply.

"He is my husband--the man I loved before I met Smithers, whom I
married, thinking my first love dead."

A new light now burst upon Tommy.

"He your husband, mamma?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, my dear, and your father," she said.

Now Tommy knew why the face had haunted him so.

Capt. Jordan was no other than the man Thompson, who had taken him from
Jersey City, and so nearly got him into trouble in New York.

"Do you love him, mamma?" he asked.

"I do," she replied.

"Then I will give him my hand," said Tommy, "and if you are not ashamed
to be called his wife, I am proud to be his son."

Capt. Jordan, or Thompson, took the boy's hand and imprinted a kiss on
his forehead.

"You shall never have cause to regret calling me father," he exclaimed.

For the first time in many months Tommy felt a sense of dreamy
happiness stealing over him.

He had found his mother, and, what was more, he had met his father
under circumstances which induced him to like him better than he had
done at their first interview.

The result of Tommy's venturing into the cave was certainly such as to
surprise him greatly, for he was far from thinking that Capt. Jordan,
the famous freebooter, was his father, and that his mother was living
with him of her own choice instead of being confined as a prisoner,
which all supposed.

Thompson, or Jordan, was very anxious to quit the life he was leading
and had promised to do so shortly, at the solicitations of his wife,
and he wished to go further west. Tommy's mother added her entreaties
to those of his father that he would accompany them, and having no tie
to bind him to Smithers, he consented.

Little Alice had quite lost all her haughtiness, and, removed from the
influence of Smithers, she found much to love in the character of her
mother, and though she felt some repulsion toward Thompson, she grew to
like him a little in time.

Thompson was only waiting in the cave to make one more venture before
he left it forever.

He had received notice that a wagon containing bars of silver would
leave Silver City on a certain day, and he intended to attack it as it
passed through the canyon.

With this amount of valuable property he thought he could do well as a
farmer, and live a life of peace and contentment, but he forgot that
ill-gained wealth rarely if ever does its possessor any good.

It was early one morning when a shot was heard in the valley.

Tommy sprang to his feet, he having been engaged in conversation with
his mother.

"What is that?" he cried.

"Oh," replied his mother, with a heavy sigh, "it's an attack on some
poor traveler. I wish all this work was over."

"So do I," said Tommy. "Why do you stay here, mother, when you could go
away so easily?"

"I don't know what to do, my dear," replied she, in her usual
weak-minded and undecided way. "Thompson is your father and legally
my husband. I am afraid he would kill me if I thwarted him. As for
Smithers, I despise him for his pride and his trickery. I wish I had
never married."

"Don't say that, mamma, for my sake," exclaimed Tommy.

She pressed her lips to his face and kissed him tenderly.

"They call you the fool of the family," she replied. "But to me you
were always bright and amiable."

This conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Thompson, who held
some papers in his hand, which he was examining with apparent interest.
Suddenly he uttered a loud cry of rage.

"A thousand curses!" he exclaimed. "This is bad luck!"

"What is?" inquired his wife.

"If we had only known who this fellow was he would not have got off so
easily."

"And who is he?"

"Who? The famous detective Berghausen, and here in my hand is a warrant
for the arrest of Smithers for robbing his employers in New York."

Thompson bit his lips and frowned darkly, as if his mind was ill at
ease.

"I ought to kill Berghausen," he said, as if talking to himself. "It is
the only way to play a safe game, but if I ride after him I may miss
the silver, and not have a chance of such a stake again."

Setting his broad-brimmed hat jauntily on one side of his head, he
quitted the cavern.

Tommy looked anxiously at his mother.

"It is my opinion," he exclaimed, "that you would be better without
either, of such men as Thompson or Smithers."

"Remember, Tommy, that he is your father."

"I know it, and cannot help feeling sorry for it. He is a bold, bad
man, and although he says he will lead a good life in future, I am
sure he'll never be anything but a thief, and a low one at that."

The unhappy woman shook her head sadly.

"I fear," she said, "that there is no rest for me this side of the
grave. I must fulfill my destiny."

Covering her face with her hands she wept bitterly.

Tommy went outside and walked up and down in deep thought, for he was
in the midst of plenty now, which seemed to make a man of him.

He felt restless and excited. Coming events cast their shadows before,
and he had that remarkable silent admonition that something of great
importance was about to happen.

He was roused from his meditation by his mother's voice.

"Tommy!" she cried.

"Well, mamma?" he replied.

"Have you seen Alice?"

"No."

"She is not in the cave, and I notice that her hat and little cloak are
missing. Where can she have gone?"

Tommy reflected a moment.

"I think I know, mamma," he said.

"If you can guess, you are smarter than I am," she replied.

"I remarked," continued Tommy, "that she listened with peculiar
attention when she heard a man had gone to Silver City to arrest Mr.
Smithers. He is her father, and she always had a great affection for
him."

"I am aware of that."

"Then it is my opinion that she has gone to Silver City in order to put
Mr. Smithers on his guard, and enable him to flee from the officers of
justice."

"It is possible, but what danger may she not encounter on the way!
If she gets benighted the wolves will kill her. Poor child, she is
unarmed, and I should break my heart if anything happened to her."

"Mother!" exclaimed Tommy, "I know what you would say. You wish me to
go and find Alice."

"Oh! yes, if it is not asking too much."

"I will set off at once."




CHAPTER XXII.

THE FINAL TRAGEDY.


Seeing that his pistol was loaded, Tommy started at once after Alice,
who actually had started for the distant city to warn Smithers of the
danger in which he stood.

Skirting the huge masses of rock which lay about on all sides of the
valley, Tommy succeeded in quitting the Dead Snake Canyon without
attracting the notice of his father. Once out on the undulating
prairie, he slipped out more boldly, and walked rapidly along the track
which served as a road. Some distance ahead of him he fancied he saw a
slender form which might be that of Alice. He quickened his movements.
In a short time he was able to satisfy himself that it actually was the
little girl proceeding on her chivalrous journey without exhibiting any
apparent symptoms of fatigue.

All at once he beheld a tall form spring from the high grass among
which it had been concealed. The long hair, ornamented with feathers,
the red skin, and the dirty blanket in which the form was wrapped,
assured him that the apparition was that of an Indian. Though
comparatively rare in that part of the country, bands occasionally
crossed the prairie and did not hesitate to rob, burn and murder where
they had the opportunity. In the hand of the Indian was an uplifted
tomahawk. Horribly afraid of some tragedy, Tommy increased his pace
to a run, hoping to come up in time to prevent the dastardly redskin
from doing any harm to the little girl. But he was too late. The Indian
uttered a terrible whoop and, in pure wantonness, made a slashing blow
at Alice.

The child, frightened at the war cry, turned, and beholding the savage,
sank upon her knees, holding up her hands in supplication.

What she said Tommy could not hear, but even at the distance he was
from her he fancied he saw her lips move. Possibly she begged for
mercy, possibly she prayed for help.

The cruel tomahawk, however, cut short her prayers, or her
supplications, and sank deep into her brain, causing her to die without
another word.

A fiendish laugh came from the Indian. His knife was instantly in
requisition, and with a dexterity born of practice, he cut off her
beautiful, flowing hair. He had murdered the poor child for her scalp.

Burning with rage and indignation, Tommy bounded over the ground, and
when he got near enough he sank on one knee. Raising his pistol he
fired. The Indian was hit, but not mortally.

He uttered a howl like that of a wild beast, and looked for his enemy,
who was not so much hidden in the sage bark and chaparral as to be
invisible.

But before he could load his rifle another shot from Tommy brought him
to his knee, and a third rolled him over like a bullock.

The Indian appeared to be dead, but to make sure that the life had
really left the wretch, Tommy struck him again and again with his own
tomahawk, which he picked up from the ground, and hacked at him as he
would have cut a mad dog or a venomous reptile.

"Poor child," he said, as he stooped down and kissed the blood-stained
features of little Alice. "This is very hard. I would have gladly laid
down my life to save hers, but it is one comfort that her young life is
avenged on the person of this bloodthirsty savage."

Alice was quite dead. Near the spot where she fell was a cairn or heap
of stones. Strangely enough it chanced that this cairn was the one
erected by Smithers over the body of his son Harold, whom he had so
cruelly killed on this very spot.

Perhaps the very ground which was drinking up the life blood of Alice
had absorbed that of her brother.

Not being able to carry the body to the city for interment, and not
liking to leave it to the mercy of the wolves, Tommy tore down some of
the stones. Reverently lifting the body, he placed it in the center of
the heap, and covered it again with the biggest stones his strength
would permit him to lift.

Then the brother and sister were buried in one rude grave.

"Poor Alice!" said Tommy. "God bless her!"

His first impulse was to return to the cave and carry to his mother the
melancholy news of Alice's death.

She had already been informed of the decease of Harold, and had grieved
much in consequence; but come to think of it, he felt a conviction that
she would like him, if possible, to save Smithers from the impending
arrest.

Following out this train of thought Tommy turned round again and walked
toward Silver City. It was quite late in the day when he arrived there,
but he soon found Mr. Smithers, and told him all the sad news.

"But this is not all," said Tommy. "You are in danger of----"

"Of what?"

"Arrest. The detective, Berghausen, is in this city looking for you,
and you may expect him here at any moment. Your only safety is instant
flight."

Smithers looked the picture of despair.

"I must fly," he exclaimed, after a pause. "Truly has it been said that
there is no rest for the wicked. But it is hard to have no place to lay
one's head, and to be a wanderer on the face of the earth. Why was I
not content with little? All this comes of pride and living beyond my
income. Take warning by my fate, boy, and whatever your circumstances
in life may be, rest satisfied with it. Pride must have a fall."

"Had you not better take what money you can, hire a horse, and start,
sir?" said Tommy.

"Yes, yes. It is very good of you to do all this for me, Tommy. I had
no right to expect it, for I always treated you badly."

"Mother always taught me to forgive my enemies," answered Tommy; "and,
of course, I could not expect you to like me so well as Harold and
Alice."

Going to the safe he took from it a large roll of bills.

There was a voice on the stairs.

"Ha!" he cried, "what is that?"

"For Heaven's sake!" exclaimed Tommy, "get away somehow. It may be the
detective. Can you not get out at the roof?"

"I know not."

The noise increased.

The next moment the door was pushed open, and a tall, thick-set man
appeared on the threshold.

"You're my prisoner!" he shouted. "I know you from a photograph. Up
with your arms, or I'll give you some lead."

Smithers failed to comply with his request, and hastily drew a pistol,
which he fired at the detective.

His hand trembled so that the bullet went wide of its mark, and
Berghausen, seeing that he meant fight, and that his life was in danger
if he did not adopt violent means, returned the fire.

He was cool and collected, and did not miss his mark. Smithers uttered
a cry, and pressing his hand to his heart, staggered against the wall,
and fell on the carpet, mortally wounded.

"I'm sorry," remarked Berghausen, coolly; "but I had to do it."

Tommy had flown to Smithers' side.

"Are you much hurt?" he asked.

"Done for, my lad," exclaimed Smithers, speaking with difficulty. "My
race is run. It will soon be all over, and I can't say I regret it."

"Shall I fetch a doctor?"

"No use. Pray God have mercy on my sinful soul!"

These were the last words he uttered, for though his lips continued to
move at intervals for some minutes, no coherent sound came from them.

The sheriff, who was a man named Dunbarton, happened to be passing at
the time, and, hearing the shots, thought it his business to enter the
house. He saw the blood-stained corpse of Smithers.

"What's this?" he exclaimed.

"I am a detective, with a warrant for this man's arrest for robbing
his employers in New York," replied Berghausen, "and I killed him in
self-defense."

"Well," said the sheriff, "if you'll take my advice, you'll leave town
and get back mighty quick."

"What for?"

"The boys liked Smithers, and knew his pard well; they might take it
into their heads to lay you out."

"That's so," answered the detective.

Accordingly he got out of the house, and made his way out of the town,
for he felt somewhat the hint given him was equivalent to an order.

Tommy had not been noticed by anyone.

Seeing that he could be of no further use to the sheriff or to
Smithers, who was now beyond mortal aid, he too left the house.

At the extremity of the town he overtook a wagon. It was guarded by two
men heavily armed, and he saw Berghausen talking to them.

"You can go along with us," said one of the men, "if you can fight,
for we've got silver in the wagon, and are told to look out for Capt.
Jordan."

"Good enough," replied the detective.

"May I go with you also?" asked Tommy.

"No; we don't want any boys hanging onto us," was the answer.

Tommy shrank behind at this ungracious reply, and the wagon moved on.

Soon the shades of night began to fall, and, feeling very tired, Tommy
threw himself down on the sage brush, and fell fast asleep. When he
awoke the sun was riding high in the heavens.

"I must hurry up," he remarked. "If the wagon traveled all night, it
has reached the canyon ere this, and either Thompson has captured it,
or Berghausen and the others have overcome him."

He was naturally very anxious to know what had happened, and walked at
his quickest pace, his heart beating wildly with anxiety.

It was midday when he reached the calm and pleasant valley, passing
in through the high rocks on either side, whose quaintly shaped forms
seemed to resemble giant sentinels.

Going direct to the cave, he found it empty. In vain he called to
his mother. There was no answer. Alarmed and still more anxious than
before, he proceeded to explore the valley.

All at once he distinguished his mother's form seated on a fragment of
rock. At her feet was the body of a man.

One glance enabled Tommy to comprehend what had happened.

Approaching her, he took her hand, saying:

"Mother, it is all over now."

She raised her tear-stained face to his. Then she lowered it once more,
and cast her gaze sorrowfully upon the corpse, which was that of the
bandit, Thompson.

"We are alone in the world now," continued Tommy. "Smithers is dead,
shot by Berghausen; Alice was killed by an Indian, but I will protect
you."

"He attacked the wagon," explained she. "He was killed at the
first fire. His servant's body is down there"--pointing with her
finger--"with the body of one of the travelers, who was killed."

"Come away, mother," said Tommy. "I'll return and bury the bodies."

       *       *       *       *       *

"What are we to do now?" demanded Tommy's mother. "The future seems
such a blank to me. Oh! thank God that you are spared to me, Tommy."

"Mother," said Tommy, "while I was burying the bodies, a man came along
on horseback. He was looking for me. His name is Maj. Allston. He was
Mr. Smithers' partner, and he gave me a roll of bills, which he said
was Smithers' share of the profits of the game they played. It is over
two thousand dollars. Let us go back to New York. We will start in
business, and we shall not want."

Mrs. Smithers drew him to her bosom, and embraced him tenderly.

"God bless you, Tommy. I will live for your sake, but I had very dark
thoughts in my mind just now--oh! so bad and wicked; may I be forgiven
for them."

The next day they went to the depot, and the swift locomotive conveyed
two travel-stained passengers back to the East.

They started in a little business, and Tommy, no longer the fool of the
family, showed such industry and smartness that he prospered.

The mother and son were very happy together, and soon the checkered and
eventful past was forgotten.


THE END.


The ROUND THE WORLD LIBRARY will next contain a tale of the amusing
pranks of "Mischievous Matt," No. 30, by Bracebridge Hemyng.




  Western Stories
  About BUFFALO BILL

  Red-blooded Adventure Stories for Men


There is no more romantic character in American history than William
F. Cody, or, as he was internationally known, Buffalo Bill. He, with
Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, Wild Bill Hickock, General Custer, and a few
other adventurous spirits, laid the foundation of our great West.

There is no more brilliant page in American history than the winning of
the West. Never did pioneers live more thrilling lives, so rife with
adventure and brave deeds, as the old scouts and plainsmen. Foremost
among these stands the imposing figure of Buffalo Bill.

All of the books in this list are intensely interesting. They were
written by the close friend and companion of Buffalo Bill--Colonel
Prentiss Ingraham. They depict actual adventures which this pair of
hard-hitting comrades experienced, while the story of these adventures
is interwoven with fiction; historically the books are correct.


_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_

    1--Buffalo Bill, the Border King             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
    2--Buffalo Bill's Raid                       By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
    3--Buffalo Bill's Bravery                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
    4--Buffalo Bill's Trump Card                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
    5--Buffalo Bill's Pledge                     By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
    6--Buffalo Bill's Vengeance                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
    7--Buffalo Bill's Iron Grip                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
    8--Buffalo Bill's Capture                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
    9--Buffalo Bill's Danger Line                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   10--Buffalo Bill's Comrades                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   11--Buffalo Bill's Reckoning                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   12--Buffalo Bill's Warning                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   13--Buffalo Bill at Bay                       By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   14--Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Pards             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   15--Buffalo Bill's Brand                      By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   16--Buffalo Bill's Honor                      By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   17--Buffalo Bill's Phantom Hunt               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   18--Buffalo Bill's Fight With Fire            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   19--Buffalo Bill's Danite Trail               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   20--Buffalo Bill's Ranch Riders               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   21--Buffalo Bill's Death Trail                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   22--Buffalo Bill's Trackers                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   23--Buffalo Bill's Mid-air Flight             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   24--Buffalo Bill, Ambassador                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   25--Buffalo Bill's Air Voyage                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   26--Buffalo Bill's Secret Mission             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   27--Buffalo Bill's Long Trail                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   28--Buffalo Bill Against Odds                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   29--Buffalo Bill's Hot Chase                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   30--Buffalo Bill's Redskin Ally               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   31--Buffalo Bill's Treasure Trove             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   32--Buffalo Bill's Hidden Foes                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   33--Buffalo Bill's Crack Shot                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   34--Buffalo Bill's Close Call                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   35--Buffalo Bill's Double Surprise            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   36--Buffalo Bill's Ambush                     By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   37--Buffalo Bill's Outlaw Hunt                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   38--Buffalo Bill's Border Duel                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   39--Buffalo Bill's Bid for Fame               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   40--Buffalo Bill's Triumph                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   41--Buffalo Bill's Spy Trailer                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   42--Buffalo Bill's Death Call                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   43--Buffalo Bill's Body Guard                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   44--Buffalo Bill's Still Hunt                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   45--Buffalo Bill and the Doomed Dozen         By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   46--Buffalo Bill's Prairie Scout              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   47--Buffalo Bill's Traitor Guide              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   48--Buffalo Bill's Bonanza                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   49--Buffalo Bill's Swoop                      By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   50--Buffalo Bill and the Gold King            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   51--Buffalo Bill, Dead Shot                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   52--Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Bravos            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   53--Buffalo Bill's Big Four                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   54--Buffalo Bill's One-armed Pard             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   55--Buffalo Bill's Race for Life              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   56--Buffalo Bill's Return                     By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   57--Buffalo Bill's Conquest                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   58--Buffalo Bill to the Rescue                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   59--Buffalo Bill's Beautiful Foe              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   60--Buffalo Bill's Perilous Task              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   61--Buffalo Bill's Queer Find                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   62--Buffalo Bill's Blind Lead                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   63--Buffalo Bill's Resolution                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   64--Buffalo Bill, the Avenger                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   65--Buffalo Bill's Pledged Pard               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   66--Buffalo Bill's Weird Warning              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   67--Buffalo Bill's Wild Ride                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   68--Buffalo Bill's Redskin Stampede           By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   69--Buffalo Bill's Mine Mystery               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   70--Buffalo Bill's Gold Hunt                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   71--Buffalo Bill's Daring Dash                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   72--Buffalo Bill on Hand                      By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   73--Buffalo Bill's Alliance                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   74--Buffalo Bill's Relentless Foe             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   75--Buffalo Bill's Midnight Ride              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   76--Buffalo Bill's Chivalry                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   77--Buffalo Bill's Girl Pard                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   78--Buffalo Bill's Private War                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   79--Buffalo Bill's Diamond Mine               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   80--Buffalo Bill's Big Contract               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   81--Buffalo Bill's Woman Foe                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   82--Buffalo Bill's Ruse                       By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   83--Buffalo Bill's Pursuit                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   84--Buffalo Bill's Hidden Gold                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   85--Buffalo Bill in Mid-air                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   86--Buffalo Bill's Queer Mission              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   87--Buffalo Bill's Verdict                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   88--Buffalo Bill's Ordeal                     By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   89--Buffalo Bill's Camp Fires                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   90--Buffalo Bill's Iron Nerve                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   91--Buffalo Bill's Rival                      By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   92--Buffalo Bill's Lone Hand                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   93--Buffalo Bill's Sacrifice                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   94--Buffalo Bill's Thunderbolt                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   95--Buffalo Bill's Black Fortune              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   96--Buffalo Bill's Wild Work                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   97--Buffalo Bill's Yellow Trail               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   98--Buffalo Bill's Treasure Train             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
   99--Buffalo Bill's Bowie Duel                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  100--Buffalo Bill's Mystery Man                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  101--Buffalo Bill's Bold Play                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  102--Buffalo Bill: Peacemaker                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  103--Buffalo Bill's Big Surprise               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  104--Buffalo Bill's Barricade                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  105--Buffalo Bill's Test                       By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  106--Buffalo Bill's Powwow                     By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  107--Buffalo Bill's Stern Justice              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  108--Buffalo Bill's Mysterious Friend          By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  109--Buffalo Bill and the Boomers              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  110--Buffalo Bill's Panther Fight              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  111--Buffalo Bill and the Overland Mail        By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  112--Buffalo Bill on the Deadwood Trail        By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  113--Buffalo Bill in Apache Land               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  114--Buffalo Bills Blindfold Duel              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  115--Buffalo Bill and the Lone Camper          By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  116--Buffalo Bill's Merry War                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  117--Buffalo Bill's Star Play                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  118--Buffalo Bill's War Cry                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  119--Buffalo Bill on Black Panther's Trail     By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  120--Buffalo Bill's Slim Chance                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  121--Buffalo Bill Besieged                     By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  122--Buffalo Bill's Bandit Round-up            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  123--Buffalo Bill's Surprise Party             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  124--Buffalo Bill's Lightning Raid             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  125--Buffalo Bill in Mexico                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  126--Buffalo Bill's Traitor Foe                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  127--Buffalo Bill's Tireless Chase             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  128--Buffalo Bill's Boy Bugler                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  129--Buffalo Bill's Sure Guess                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  130--Buffalo Bill's Record Jump                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  131--Buffalo Bill in the Land of Dread         By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  132--Buffalo Bill's Tangled Clue               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  133--Buffalo Bill's Wolf Skin                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  134--Buffalo Bill's Twice Four Puzzle          By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  135--Buffalo Bill and the Devil Bird           By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  136--Buffalo Bill and the Indian's Mascot      By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  137--Buffalo Bill Entrapped                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  138--Buffalo Bill's Totem Trail                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  139--Buffalo Bill at Fort Challis              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  140--Buffalo Bill's Determination              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  141--Buffalo Bill's Battle Axe                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  142--Buffalo Bill's Game with Fate             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  143--Buffalo Bill's Comanche Raid              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  144--Buffalo Bill's Aerial Island              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  145--Buffalo Bill's Lucky Shot                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  146--Buffalo Bill's Sioux Friends              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  147--Buffalo Bill's Supreme Test               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  148--Buffalo Bill's Boldest Strike             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  149--Buffalo Bill and the Red Hand             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  150--Buffalo Bill's Dance with Death           By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  151--Buffalo Bill's Running Fight              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  152--Buffalo Bill in Harness                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  153--Buffalo Bill Corralled                    By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  154--Buffalo Bill's Waif of the West           By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  155--Buffalo Bill's Wizard Pard                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  156--Buffalo Bill and Hawkeye                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  157--Buffalo Bill and Grizzly Dan              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  158--Buffalo Bill's Ghost Play                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  159--Buffalo Bill's Lost Prisoner              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  160--Buffalo Bill and The Klan of Kau          By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  161--Buffalo Bill's Crow Scouts                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  162--Buffalo Bill's Lassoed Spectre            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  163--Buffalo Bill and the Wanderers            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  164--Buffalo Bill and the White Queen          By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  165--Buffalo Bill's Yellow Guardian            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  166--Buffalo Bill's Double "B" Brand           By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  167--Buffalo Bill's Dangerous Duty             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  168--Buffalo Bill and the Talking Statue       By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  169--Buffalo Bill Between Two Fires            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  170--Buffalo Bill and the Giant Apache         By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  171--Buffalo Bill's Best Bet                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  172--Buffalo Bill's Blockhouse Siege           By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  173--Buffalo Bill's Fight for Right            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  174--Buffalo Bill's Sad Tidings                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  175--Buffalo Bill and "Lucky" Benson           By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  176--Buffalo Bill Among the Sioux              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  177--Buffalo Bill's Mystery Box                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  178--Buffalo Bill's Worst Tangle               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  179--Buffalo Bill's Clean Sweep                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  180--Buffalo Bill's Texas Tangle               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  181--Buffalo Bill and the Nihilists            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  182--Buffalo Bill's Emigrant Trail             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  183--Buffalo Bill at Close Quarters            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  184--Buffalo Bill and the Cattle Thieves       By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  185--Buffalo Bill at Cimaroon Bar              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  186--Buffalo Bill's Ingenuity                  By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  187--Buffalo Bill on a Cold Trail              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  188--Buffalo Bill's Red Hot Totem              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  189--Buffalo Bill Under a War Cloud            By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  190--Buffalo Bill and the Prophet              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  191--Buffalo Bill and the Red Renegade         By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  192--Buffalo Bill's Mailed Fist                By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  193--Buffalo Bill's Round-up                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  194--Buffalo Bill's Death Message              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  195--Buffalo Bill's Redskin Disguise           By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  196--Buffalo Bill, the Whirlwind               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  197--Buffalo Bill in Death Valley              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  198--Buffalo Bill and the Magic Button         By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  199--Buffalo Bill's Friend in Need             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  200--Buffalo Bill With General Custer          By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  201--Buffalo Bill's Timely Meeting             By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  202--Buffalo Bill and the Skeleton Scout       By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  203--Buffalo Bill's Flag of Truce              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  204--Buffalo Bill's Pacific Power              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  205--Buffalo Bill's Impersonator               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  206--Buffalo Bill and the Red Marauders        By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  207--Buffalo Bill's Long Run                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  208--Buffalo Bill and Red Dove                 By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  209--Buffalo Bill on the Box                   By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  210--Buffalo Bill's Bravo Partner              By Col. Prentiss Ingraham
  211--Buffalo Bill's Strange Task               By Col. Prentiss Ingraham




BOOKS FOR YOUNG MEN

MERRIWELL SERIES

  Stories of Frank and Dick Merriwell


Fascinating Stories of Athletics

A half million enthusiastic followers of the Merriwell brothers will
attest the unfailing interest and wholesomeness of these adventures of
two lads of high ideals, who play fair with themselves, as well as with
the rest of the world.

These stories are rich in fun and thrills in all branches of sports and
athletics. They are extremely high in moral tone, and cannot fail to be
of immense benefit to every boy who reads them.

They have the splendid quality of firing a boy's ambition to become a
good athlete, in order that he may develop into a strong, vigorous,
right-thinking man.


_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_

    1--Frank Merriwell's School Days            By Burt L. Standish
    2--Frank Merriwell's Chums                  By Burt L. Standish
    3--Frank Merriwell's Foes                   By Burt L. Standish
    4--Frank Merriwell's Trip West              By Burt L. Standish
    5--Frank Merriwell Down South               By Burt L. Standish
    6--Frank Merriwell's Bravery                By Burt L. Standish
    7--Frank Merriwell's Hunting Tour           By Burt L. Standish
    8--Frank Merriwell in Europe                By Burt L. Standish
    9--Frank Merriwell at Yale                  By Burt L. Standish
   10--Frank Merriwell's Sports Afield          By Burt L. Standish
   11--Frank Merriwell's Races                  By Burt L. Standish
   12--Frank Merriwell's Party                  By Burt L. Standish
   13--Frank Merriwell's Bicycle Tour           By Burt L. Standish
   14--Frank Merriwell's Courage                By Burt L. Standish
   15--Frank Merriwell's Daring                 By Burt L. Standish
   16--Frank Merriwell's Alarm                  By Burt L. Standish
   17--Frank Merriwell's Athletes               By Burt L. Standish
   18--Frank Merriwell's Skill                  By Burt L. Standish
   19--Frank Merriwell's Champions              By Burt L. Standish
   20--Frank Merriwell's Return to Yale         By Burt L. Standish
   21--Frank Merriwell's Secret                 By Burt L. Standish
   22--Frank Merriwell's Danger                 By Burt L. Standish
   23--Frank Merriwell's Loyalty                By Burt L. Standish
   24--Frank Merriwell in Camp                  By Burt L. Standish
   25--Frank Merriwell's Vacation               By Burt L. Standish
   26--Frank Merriwell's Cruise                 By Burt L. Standish
   27--Frank Merriwell's Chase                  By Burt L. Standish
   28--Frank Merriwell in Maine                 By Burt L. Standish
   29--Frank Merriwell's Struggle               By Burt L. Standish
   30--Frank Merriwell's First Job              By Burt L. Standish
   31--Frank Merriwell's Opportunity            By Burt L. Standish
   32--Frank Merriwell's Hard Luck              By Burt L. Standish
   33--Frank Merriwell's Protégé                By Burt L. Standish
   34--Frank Merriwell on the Road              By Burt L. Standish
   35--Frank Merriwell's Own Company            By Burt L. Standish
   36--Frank Merriwell's Fame                   By Burt L. Standish
   37--Frank Merriwell's College Chums          By Burt L. Standish
   38--Frank Merriwell's Problem                By Burt L. Standish
   39--Frank Merriwell's Fortune                By Burt L. Standish
   40--Frank Merriwell's New Comedian           By Burt L. Standish
   41--Frank Merriwell's Prosperity             By Burt L. Standish
   42--Frank Merriwell's Stage Hit              By Burt L. Standish
   43--Frank Merriwell's Great Scheme           By Burt L. Standish
   44--Frank Merriwell in England               By Burt L. Standish
   45--Frank Merriwell on the Boulevards        By Burt L. Standish
   46--Frank Merriwell's Duel                   By Burt L. Standish
   47--Frank Merriwell's Double Shot            By Burt L. Standish
   48--Frank Merriwell's Baseball Victories     By Burt L. Standish
   49--Frank Merriwell's Confidence             By Burt L. Standish
   50--Frank Merriwell's Auto                   By Burt L. Standish
   51--Frank Merriwell's Fun                    By Burt L. Standish
   52--Frank Merriwell's Generosity             By Burt L. Standish
   53--Frank Merriwell's Tricks                 By Burt L. Standish
   54--Frank Merriwell's Temptation             By Burt L. Standish
   55--Frank Merriwell on Top                   By Burt L. Standish
   56--Frank Merriwell's Luck                   By Burt L. Standish
   57--Frank Merriwell's Mascot                 By Burt L. Standish
   58--Frank Merriwell's Reward                 By Burt L. Standish
   59--Frank Merriwell's Phantom                By Burt L. Standish
   60--Frank Merriwell's Faith                  By Burt L. Standish
   61--Frank Merriwell's Victories              By Burt L. Standish
   62--Frank Merriwell's Iron Nerve             By Burt L. Standish
   63--Frank Merriwell in Kentucky              By Burt L. Standish
   64--Frank Merriwell's Power                  By Burt L. Standish
   65--Frank Merriwell's Shrewdness             By Burt L. Standish
   66--Frank Merriwell's Set Back               By Burt L. Standish
   67--Frank Merriwell's Search                 By Burt L. Standish
   68--Frank Merriwell's Club                   By Burt L. Standish
   69--Frank Merriwell's Trust                  By Burt L. Standish
   70--Frank Merriwell's False Friend           By Burt L. Standish
   71--Frank Merriwell's Strong Arm             By Burt L. Standish
   72--Frank Merriwell as Coach                 By Burt L. Standish
   73--Frank Merriwell's Brother                By Burt L. Standish
   74--Frank Merriwell's Marvel                 By Burt L. Standish
   75--Frank Merriwell's Support                By Burt L. Standish
   76--Dick Merriwell At Fardale                By Burt L. Standish
   77--Dick Merriwell's Glory                   By Burt L. Standish
   78--Dick Merriwell's Promise                 By Burt L. Standish
   79--Dick Merriwell's Rescue                  By Burt L. Standish
   80--Dick Merriwell's Narrow Escape           By Burt L. Standish
   81--Dick Merriwell's Racket                  By Burt L. Standish
   82--Dick Merriwell's Revenge                 By Burt L. Standish
   83--Dick Merriwell's Ruse                    By Burt L. Standish
   84--Dick Merriwell's Delivery                By Burt L. Standish
   85--Dick Merriwell's Wonders                 By Burt L. Standish
   86--Frank Merriwell's Honor                  By Burt L. Standish
   87--Dick Merriwell's Diamond                 By Burt L. Standish
   88--Frank Merriwell's Winners                By Burt L. Standish
   89--Dick Merriwell's Dash                    By Burt L. Standish
   90--Dick Merriwell's Ability                 By Burt L. Standish
   91--Dick Merriwell's Trap                    By Burt L. Standish
   92--Dick Merriwell's Defense                 By Burt L. Standish
   93--Dick Merriwell's Model                   By Burt L. Standish
   94--Dick Merriwell's Mystery                 By Burt L. Standish
   95--Frank Merriwell's Backers                By Burt L. Standish
   96--Dick Merriwell's Backstop                By Burt L. Standish
   97--Dick Merriwell's Western Mission         By Burt L. Standish
   98--Frank Merriwell's Rescue                 By Burt L. Standish
   99--Frank Merriwell's Encounter              By Burt L. Standish
  100--Dick Merriwell's Marked Money            By Burt L. Standish
  101--Frank Merriwell's Nomads                 By Burt L. Standish
  102--Dick Merriwell on the Gridiron           By Burt L. Standish
  103--Dick Merriwell's Disguise                By Burt L. Standish
  104--Dick Merriwell's Test                    By Burt L. Standish
  105--Frank Merriwell's Trump Card             By Burt L. Standish
  106--Frank Merriwell's Strategy               By Burt L. Standish
  107--Frank Merriwell's Triumph                By Burt L. Standish
  108--Dick Merriwell's Grit                    By Burt L. Standish
  109--Dick Merriwell's Assurance               By Burt L. Standish
  110--Dick Merriwell's Long Slide              By Burt L. Standish
  111--Frank Merriwell's Rough Deal             By Burt L. Standish
  112--Dick Merriwell's Threat                  By Burt L. Standish
  113--Dick Merriwell's Persistence             By Burt L. Standish
  114--Dick Merriwell's Day                     By Burt L. Standish
  115--Frank Merriwell's Peril                  By Burt L. Standish
  116--Dick Merriwell's Downfall                By Burt L. Standish
  117--Frank Merriwell's Pursuit                By Burt L. Standish
  118--Dick Merriwell Abroad                    By Burt L. Standish
  119--Frank Merriwell in the Rockies           By Burt L. Standish
  120--Dick Merriwell's Pranks                  By Burt L. Standish
  121--Frank Merriwell's Pride                  By Burt L. Standish
  122--Frank Merriwell's Challengers            By Burt L. Standish
  123--Frank Merriwell's Endurance              By Burt L. Standish
  124--Dick Merriwell's Cleverness              By Burt L. Standish
  125--Frank Merriwell's Marriage               By Burt L. Standish
  126--Dick Merriwell, the Wizard               By Burt L. Standish
  127--Dick Merriwell's Stroke                  By Burt L. Standish
  128--Dick Merriwell's Return                  By Burt L. Standish
  129--Dick Merriwell's Resource                By Burt L. Standish
  130--Dick Merriwell's Five                    By Burt L. Standish

In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the
books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New
York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance
promptly, on account of delays in transportation.


To be published in January, 1926.

  131--Frank Merriwell's Tigers                 By Burt L. Standish
  132--Dick Merriwell's Polo Team               By Burt L. Standish


To be published in February, 1926.

  133--Frank Merriwell's Pupils                 By Burt L. Standish
  134--Frank Merriwell's New Boy                By Burt L. Standish


To be published in March, 1926.

  135--Dick Merriwell's Home Run                By Burt L. Standish
  136--Dick Merriwell's Dare                    By Burt L. Standish
  137--Frank Merriwell's Son                    By Burt L. Standish


To be published in April, 1926.

  138--Dick Merriwell's Team Mate               By Burt L. Standish
  139--Frank Merriwell's Leaguers               By Burt L. Standish


To be published in May, 1926.

  140--Frank Merriwell's Happy Camp             By Burt L. Standish
  141--Dick Merriwell's Influence               By Burt L. Standish


To be published in June, 1926.

  142--Dick Merriwell, Freshman                 By Burt L. Standish
  143--Dick Merriwell's Staying Power           By Burt L. Standish




BOOKS THAT NEVER GROW OLD

Alger Series

  Clean Adventure Stories for Boys

The Most Complete List Published


The following list does not contain all the books that Horatio Alger
wrote, but it contains most of them, and certainly the best.

Horatio Alger is to boys what Charles Dickens is to grown-ups. His
work is just as popular to-day as it was years ago. The books have a
quality, the value of which is beyond computation.

There are legions of boys of foreign parents who are being helped
along the road to true Americanism by reading these books which
are so peculiarly American in tone that the reader cannot fail to
absorb some of the spirit of fair play and clean living which is so
characteristically American.

In this list will be included certain books by Edward Stratemeyer,
Oliver Optic, and other authors who wrote the Alger type of stories,
which are equal in interest and wholesomeness with those written by the
famous author after which this great line of books for boys is named.


_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_

    1--Driven From Home                              By Horatio Alger, Jr.
    2--A Cousin's Conspiracy                         By Horatio Alger, Jr.
    3--Ned Newton                                    By Horatio Alger, Jr.
    4--Andy Gordon                                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
    5--Tony, the Tramp                               By Horatio Alger, Jr.
    6--The Five Hundred Dollar Check                 By Horatio Alger, Jr.
    7--Helping Himself                               By Horatio Alger, Jr.
    8--Making His Way                                By Horatio Alger, Jr.
    9--Try and Trust                                 By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   10--Only an Irish Boy                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   11--Jed, the Poorhouse Boy                        By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   12--Chester Rand                                  By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   13--Grit, the Young Boatman of Pine Point         By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   14--Joe's Luck                                    By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   15--From Farm Boy to Senator                      By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   16--The Young Outlaw                              By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   17--Jack's Ward                                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   18--Dean Dunham                                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   19--In a New World                                By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   20--Both Sides of the Continent                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   21--The Store Boy                                 By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   22--Brave and Bold                                By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   23--A New York Boy                                By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   24--Bob Burton                                    By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   25--The Young Adventurer                          By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   26--Julius, the Street Boy                        By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   27--Adrift in New York                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   28--Tom Brace                                     By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   29--Struggling Upward                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   30--The Adventures of a New York Telegraph Boy    By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   31--Tom Tracy                                     By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   32--The Young Acrobat                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   33--Bound to Rise                                 By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   34--Hector's Inheritance                          By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   35--Do and Dare                                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   36--The Tin Box                                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   37--Tom, the Bootblack                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   38--Risen from the Ranks                          By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   39--Shifting for Himself                          By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   40--Wait and Hope                                 By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   41--Sam's Chance                                  By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   42--Striving for Fortune                          By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   43--Phil, the Fiddler                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   44--Slow and Sure                                 By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   45--Walter Sherwood's Probation                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   46--The Trials and Triumphs of Mark Mason         By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   47--The Young Salesman                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   48--Andy Grant's Pluck                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   49--Facing the World                              By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   50--Luke Walton                                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   51--Strive and Succeed                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   52--From Canal Boy to President                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   53--The Erie Train Boy                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   54--Paul, the Peddler                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   55--The Young Miner                               By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   56--Charlie Codman's Cruise                       By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   57--A Debt of Honor                               By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   58--The Young Explorer                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   59--Ben's Nugget                                  By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   60--The Errand Boy                                By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   61--Frank and Fearless                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   62--Frank Hunter's Peril                          By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   63--Adrift in the City                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   64--Tom Thatcher's Fortune                        By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   65--Tom Turner's Legacy                           By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   66--Dan, the Newsboy                              By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   67--Digging for Gold                              By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   68--Lester's Luck                                 By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   69--In Search of Treasure                         By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   70--Frank's Campaign                              By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   71--Bernard Brook's Adventures                    By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   72--Robert Coverdale's Struggles                  By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   73--Paul Prescott's Charge                        By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   74--Mark Manning's Mission                        By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   75--Rupert's Ambition                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   76--Sink or Swim                                  By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   77--The Backwoods Boy                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   78--Tom Temple's Career                           By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   79--Ben Bruce                                     By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   80--The Young Musician                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   81--The Telegraph Boy                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   82--Work and Win                                  By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   83--The Train Boy                                 By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   84--The Cash Boy                                  By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   85--Herbert Carter's Legacy                       By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   86--Strong and Steady                             By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   87--Lost at Sea                                   By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   88--From Farm to Fortune                          By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   89--Young Captain Jack                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   90--Joe, the Hotel Boy                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   91--Out for Business                              By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   92--Falling in With Fortune                       By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   93--Nelson, the Newsboy                           By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   94--Randy of the River                            By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   95--Jerry, the Backwoods Boy                      By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   96--Ben Logan's Triumph                           By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   97--The Young Book Agent                          By Horatio Alger, Jr.
   98--The Last Cruise of _The Spitfire_             By Edward Stratemeyer
   99--Reuben Stone's Discovery                      By Edward Stratemeyer
  100--True to Himself                               By Edward Stratemeyer
  101--Richard Dare's Venture                        By Edward Stratemeyer
  102--Oliver Bright's Search                        By Edward Stratemeyer
  103--To Alaska for Gold                            By Edward Stratemeyer
  104--The Young Auctioneer                          By Edward Stratemeyer
  105--Bound to Be an Electrician                    By Edward Stratemeyer
  106--Shorthand Tom                                 By Edward Stratemeyer
  107--Fighting for His Own                          By Edward Stratemeyer
  108--Joe, the Surveyor                             By Edward Stratemeyer
  109--Larry, the Wanderer                           By Edward Stratemeyer
  110--The Young Ranchman                            By Edward Stratemeyer
  111--The Young Lumberman                           By Edward Stratemeyer
  112--The Young Explorers                           By Edward Stratemeyer
  113--Boys of the Wilderness                        By Edward Stratemeyer
  114--Boys of the Great Northwest                   By Edward Stratemeyer
  115--Boys of the Gold Fields                       By Edward Stratemeyer
  116--For His Country                               By Edward Stratemeyer
  117--Comrades in Peril                             By Edward Stratemeyer
  118--The Young Pearl Hunters                       By Edward Stratemeyer
  119--The Young Bandmaster                          By Edward Stratemeyer
  120--Boys of the Fort                              By Edward Stratemeyer
  121--On Fortune's Trail                            By Edward Stratemeyer
  122--Lost in the Land of Ice                       By Edward Stratemeyer
  123--Bob, the Photographer                         By Edward Stratemeyer
  124--Among the Missing                             By Oliver Optic
  125--His Own Helper                                By Oliver Optic
  126--Honest Kit Dunstable                          By Oliver Optic
  127--Every Inch a Boy                              By Oliver Optic
  128--The Young Pilot                               By Oliver Optic
  129--Always in Luck                                By Oliver Optic
  130--Rich and Humble                               By Oliver Optic
  131--In School and Out                             By Oliver Optic
  132--Watch and Wait                                By Oliver Optic
  133--Work and Win                                  By Oliver Optic
  134--Hope and Have                                 By Oliver Optic
  135--Haste and Waste                               By Oliver Optic
  136--Royal Tarr's Pluck                            By Oliver Optic
  137--The Prisoners of the Cave                     By Oliver Optic
  138--Louis Chiswick's Mission                      By Oliver Optic
  139--The Professor's Son                           By Oliver Optic
  140--The Young Hermit                              By Oliver Optic
  141--The Cruise of _The Dandy_                     By Oliver Optic
  142--Building Himself Up                           By Oliver Optic
  143--Lyon Hart's Heroism                           By Oliver Optic
  144--Three Young Silver Kings                      By Oliver Optic
  145--Making a Man of Himself                       By Oliver Optic
  146--Striving for His Own                          By Oliver Optic
  147--Through by Daylight                           By Oliver Optic
  148--Lightning Express                             By Oliver Optic
  149--On Time                                       By Oliver Optic
  150--Switch Off                                    By Oliver Optic

In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the
books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New
York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance
promptly, on account of delays in transportation.


To be published in January, 1926.

  151--Brake Up                                      By Oliver Optic
  152--Bear and Forbear                              By Oliver Optic


To be published in February, 1926.

  153--The "Starry Flag"                             By Oliver Optic
  154--Breaking Away                                 By Oliver Optic


To be published in March, 1926.

  155--Seek and Find                                 By Oliver Optic
  156--Freaks of Fortune                             By Oliver Optic


To be published in April, 1926.

  157--Make or Break                                 By Oliver Optic
  158--Down the River                                By Oliver Optic


To be published in May, 1926.

  159--The Boat Club                                 By Oliver Optic
  160--All Aboard                                    By Oliver Optic


To be published in June, 1926.

  161--Now or Never                                  By Oliver Optic
  162--Try Again                                     By Oliver Optic
  163--Poor and Proud                                By Oliver Optic




NICK CARTER STORIES

New Magnet Library

  _Not a Dull Book in This List_


Nick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact that
the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to the
work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced no
other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation of
new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly from
all sorts of troubles and landed the criminal just where he should
be--behind the bars.

The author of these stories knew more about writing detective stories
than any other single person.

Following is a list of the best Nick Carter stories. They have been
selected with extreme care, and we unhesitatingly recommend each of
them as being fully as interesting as any detective story between cloth
covers which sells at ten times the price.

If you do not know Nick Carter, buy a copy of any of the New Magnet
library books, and get acquainted. He will surprise and delight you.


_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_

  850--Wanted: A Clew                                By Nicholas Carter
  851--A Tangled Skein                               By Nicholas Carter
  852--The Bullion Mystery                           By Nicholas Carter
  853--The Man of Riddles                            By Nicholas Carter
  854--A Miscarriage of Justice                      By Nicholas Carter
  855--The Gloved Hand                               By Nicholas Carter
  856--Spoilers and the Spoils                       By Nicholas Carter
  857--The Deeper Game                               By Nicholas Carter
  858--Bolts from Blue Skies                         By Nicholas Carter
  859--Unseen Foes                                   By Nicholas Carter
  860--Knaves in High Places                         By Nicholas Carter
  861--The Microbe of Crime                          By Nicholas Carter
  862--In the Toils of Fear                          By Nicholas Carter
  863--A Heritage of Trouble                         By Nicholas Carter
  864--Called to Account                             By Nicholas Carter
  865--The Just and the Unjust                       By Nicholas Carter
  866--Instinct at Fault                             By Nicholas Carter
  867--A Rogue Worth Trapping                        By Nicholas Carter
  868--A Rope of Slender Threads                     By Nicholas Carter
  869--The Last Call                                 By Nicholas Carter
  870--The Spoils of Chance                          By Nicholas Carter
  871--A Struggle With Destiny                       By Nicholas Carter
  872--The Slave of Crime                            By Nicholas Carter
  873--The Crook's Blind                             By Nicholas Carter
  874--A Rascal of Quality                           By Nicholas Carter
  875--With Shackles of Fire                         By Nicholas Carter
  876--The Man Who Changed Faces                     By Nicholas Carter
  877--The Fixed Alibi                               By Nicholas Carter
  878--Out With the Tide                             By Nicholas Carter
  879--The Soul Destroyers                           By Nicholas Carter
  880--The Wages of Rascality                        By Nicholas Carter
  881--Birds of Prey                                 By Nicholas Carter
  882--When Destruction Threatens                    By Nicholas Carter
  883--The Keeper of Black Hounds                    By Nicholas Carter
  884--The Door of Doubt                             By Nicholas Carter
  885--The Wolf Within                               By Nicholas Carter
  886--A Perilous Parole                             By Nicholas Carter
  887--The Trail of the Finger Prints                By Nicholas Carter
  888--Dodging the Law                               By Nicholas Carter
  889--A Crime in Paradise                           By Nicholas Carter
  890--On the Ragged Edge                            By Nicholas Carter
  891--The Red God of Tragedy                        By Nicholas Carter
  892--The Man Who Paid                              By Nicholas Carter
  893--The Blind Man's Daughter                      By Nicholas Carter
  894--One Object in Life                            By Nicholas Carter
  895--As a Crook Sows                               By Nicholas Carter
  896--In Record Time                                By Nicholas Carter
  897--Held in Suspense                              By Nicholas Carter
  898--The $100,000 Kiss                             By Nicholas Carter
  899--Just One Slip                                 By Nicholas Carter
  900--On a Million-dollar Trail                     By Nicholas Carter
  901--A Weird Treasure                              By Nicholas Carter
  902--The Middle Link                               By Nicholas Carter
  903--To the Ends of the Earth                      By Nicholas Carter
  904--When Honors Pall                              By Nicholas Carter
  905--The Yellow Brand                              By Nicholas Carter
  906--A New Serpent in Eden                         By Nicholas Carter
  907--When Brave Men Tremble                        By Nicholas Carter
  908--A Test of Courage                             By Nicholas Carter
  909--Where Peril Beckons                           By Nicholas Carter
  910--The Gargoni Girdle                            By Nicholas Carter
  911--Rascals & Co.                                 By Nicholas Carter
  912--Too Late to Talk                              By Nicholas Carter
  913--Satan's Apt Pupil                             By Nicholas Carter
  914--The Girl Prisoner                             By Nicholas Carter
  915--The Danger of Folly                           By Nicholas Carter
  916--One Shipwreck Too Many                        By Nicholas Carter
  917--Scourged by Fear                              By Nicholas Carter
  918--The Red Plague                                By Nicholas Carter
  919--Scoundrels Rampant                            By Nicholas Carter
  920--From Clew to Clew                             By Nicholas Carter
  921--When Rogues Conspire                          By Nicholas Carter
  922--Twelve in a Grave                             By Nicholas Carter
  923--The Great Opium Case                          By Nicholas Carter
  924--A Conspiracy of Rumors                        By Nicholas Carter
  925--A Klondike Claim                              By Nicholas Carter
  926--The Evil Formula                              By Nicholas Carter
  927--The Man of Many Faces                         By Nicholas Carter
  928--The Great Enigma                              By Nicholas Carter
  929--The Burden of Proof                           By Nicholas Carter
  930--The Stolen Brain                              By Nicholas Carter
  931--A Titled Counterfeiter                        By Nicholas Carter
  932--The Magic Necklace                            By Nicholas Carter
  933--'Round the World for a Quarter                By Nicholas Carter
  934--Over the Edge of the World                    By Nicholas Carter
  935--In the Grip of Fate                           By Nicholas Carter
  936--The Case of Many Clews                        By Nicholas Carter
  937--The Sealed Door                               By Nicholas Carter
  938--Nick Carter and the Green Goods Men           By Nicholas Carter
  939--The Man Without a Will                        By Nicholas Carter
  940--Tracked Across the Atlantic                   By Nicholas Carter
  941--A Clew From the Unknown                       By Nicholas Carter
  942--The Crime of a Countess                       By Nicholas Carter
  943--A Mixed Up Mess                               By Nicholas Carter
  944--The Great Money Order Swindle                 By Nicholas Carter
  945--The Adder's Brood                             By Nicholas Carter
  946--A Wall Street Haul                            By Nicholas Carter
  947--For a Pawned Crown                            By Nicholas Carter
  948--Sealed Orders                                 By Nicholas Carter
  949--The Hate That Kills                           By Nicholas Carter
  950--The American Marquis                          By Nicholas Carter
  951--The Needy Nine                                By Nicholas Carter
   952--Fighting Against Millions                    By Nicholas Carter
   953--Outlaws of the Blue                          By Nicholas Carter
   954--The Old Detective's Pupil                    By Nicholas Carter
   955--Found in the Jungle                          By Nicholas Carter
   956--The Mysterious Mail Robbery                  By Nicholas Carter
   957--Broken Bars                                  By Nicholas Carter
   958--A Fair Criminal                              By Nicholas Carter
   959--Won by Magic                                 By Nicholas Carter
   960--The Piano Box Mystery                        By Nicholas Carter
   961--The Man They Held Back                       By Nicholas Carter
   962--A Millionaire Partner                        By Nicholas Carter
   963--A Pressing Peril                             By Nicholas Carter
   964--Australian Klondyke                          By Nicholas Carter
   965--The Sultan's Pearls                          By Nicholas Carter
   966--The Double Shuffle Club                      By Nicholas Carter
   967--Paying the Price                             By Nicholas Carter
   968--A Woman's Hand                               By Nicholas Carter
   969--A Network of Crime                           By Nicholas Carter
   970--At Thompson's Ranch                          By Nicholas Carter
   971--The Crossed Needles                          By Nicholas Carter
   972--The Diamond Mine Case                        By Nicholas Carter
   973--Blood Will Tell                              By Nicholas Carter
   974--An Accidental Password                       By Nicholas Carter
   975--The Crook's Bauble                           By Nicholas Carter
   976--Two Plus Two                                 By Nicholas Carter
   977--The Yellow Label                             By Nicholas Carter
   978--The Clever Celestial                         By Nicholas Carter
   979--The Amphitheater Plot                        By Nicholas Carter
   980--Gideon Drexel's Millions                     By Nicholas Carter
   981--Death in Life                                By Nicholas Carter
   982--A Stolen Identity                            By Nicholas Carter
   983--Evidence by Telephone                        By Nicholas Carter
   984--The Twelve Tin Boxes                         By Nicholas Carter
   985--Clew Against Clew                            By Nicholas Carter
   986--Lady Velvet                                  By Nicholas Carter
   987--Playing a Bold Game                          By Nicholas Carter
   988--A Dead Man's Grip                            By Nicholas Carter
   989--Snarled Identities                           By Nicholas Carter
   990--A Deposit Vault Puzzle                       By Nicholas Carter
   991--The Crescent Brotherhood                     By Nicholas Carter
   992--The Stolen Pay Train                         By Nicholas Carter
   993--The Sea Fox                                  By Nicholas Carter
   994--Wanted by Two Clients                        By Nicholas Carter
   995--The Van Alstine Case                         By Nicholas Carter
   996--Check No. 777                                By Nicholas Carter
   997--Partners in Peril                            By Nicholas Carter
   998--Nick Carter's Clever Protégé                 By Nicholas Carter
   999--The Sign of the Crossed Knives               By Nicholas Carter
  1000--The Man Who Vanished                         By Nicholas Carter
  1001--A Battle for the Right                       By Nicholas Carter
  1002--A Game of Craft                              By Nicholas Carter
  1003--Nick Carter's Retainer                       By Nicholas Carter
  1004--Caught in the Toils                          By Nicholas Carter
  1005--A Broken Bond                                By Nicholas Carter
  1006--The Crime of the French Café                 By Nicholas Carter
  1007--The Man Who Stole Millions                   By Nicholas Carter
  1008--The Twelve Wise Men                          By Nicholas Carter
  1009--Hidden Foes                                  By Nicholas Carter
  1010--A Gamblers' Syndicate                        By Nicholas Carter
  1011--A Chance Discovery                           By Nicholas Carter
  1012--Among the Counterfeiters                     By Nicholas Carter
  1013--A Threefold Disappearance                    By Nicholas Carter
  1014--At Odds With Scotland Yard                   By Nicholas Carter
  1015--A Princess of Crime                          By Nicholas Carter
  1016--Found on the Beach                           By Nicholas Carter
  1017--A Spinner of Death                           By Nicholas Carter
  1018--The Detective's Pretty Neighbor              By Nicholas Carter
  1019--A Bogus Clew                                 By Nicholas Carter
  1020--The Puzzle of Five Pistols                   By Nicholas Carter
  1021--The Secret of the Marble Mantel              By Nicholas Carter
  1022--A Bite of an Apple                           By Nicholas Carter
  1023--A Triple Crime                               By Nicholas Carter
  1024--The Stolen Race Horse                        By Nicholas Carter
  1025--Wildfire                                     By Nicholas Carter
  1026--A _Herald_ Personal                          By Nicholas Carter
  1027--The Finger of Suspicion                      By Nicholas Carter
  1028--The Crimson Clew                             By Nicholas Carter
  1029--Nick Carter Down East                        By Nicholas Carter
  1030--The Chain of Clews                           By Nicholas Carter
  1031--A Victim of Circumstances                    By Nicholas Carter
  1032--Brought to Bay                               By Nicholas Carter
  1033--The Dynamite Trap                            By Nicholas Carter
  1034--A Scrap of Black Lace                        By Nicholas Carter
  1035--The Woman of Evil                            By Nicholas Carter
  1036--A Legacy of Hate                             By Nicholas Carter
  1037--A Trusted Rogue                              By Nicholas Carter
  1038--Man Against Man                              By Nicholas Carter
  1039--The Demons of the Night                      By Nicholas Carter
  1040--The Brotherhood of Death                     By Nicholas Carter
  1041--At the Knife's Point                         By Nicholas Carter
  1042--A Cry for Help                               By Nicholas Carter
  1043--A Stroke of Policy                           By Nicholas Carter
  1044--Hounded to Death                             By Nicholas Carter
  1045--A Bargain in Crime                           By Nicholas Carter
  1046--The Fatal Prescription                       By Nicholas Carter
  1047--The Man of Iron                              By Nicholas Carter
  1048--An Amazing Scoundrel                         By Nicholas Carter
  1049--The Chain of Evidence                        By Nicholas Carter
  1050--Paid with Death                              By Nicholas Carter
  1051--A Fight for a Throne                         By Nicholas Carter
  1052--The Woman of Steel                           By Nicholas Carter
  1053--The Seal of Death                            By Nicholas Carter
  1054--The Human Fiend                              By Nicholas Carter
  1055--A Desperate Chance                           By Nicholas Carter
  1056--A Chase in the Dark                          By Nicholas Carter
  1057--The Snare and the Game                       By Nicholas Carter
  1058--The Murray Hill Mystery                      By Nicholas Carter
  1059--Nick Carter's Close Call                     By Nicholas Carter
  1060--The Missing Cotton King                      By Nicholas Carter
  1061--A Game of Plots                              By Nicholas Carter
  1062--The Prince of Liars                          By Nicholas Carter
  1063--The Man at the Window                        By Nicholas Carter
  1064--The Red League                               By Nicholas Carter
  1065--The Price of a Secret                        By Nicholas Carter
  1066--The Worst Case on Record                     By Nicholas Carter
  1067--From Peril to Peril                          By Nicholas Carter
  1068--The Seal of Silence                          By Nicholas Carter
  1069--Nick Carter's Chinese Puzzle                 By Nicholas Carter
  1070--A Blackmailer's Bluff                        By Nicholas Carter
  1071--Heard in the Dark                            By Nicholas Carter
  1072--A Checkmated Scoundrel                       By Nicholas Carter
  1073--The Cashier's Secret                         By Nicholas Carter
  1074--Behind a Mask                                By Nicholas Carter
  1075--The Cloak of Guilt                           By Nicholas Carter
  1076--Two Villains in One                          By Nicholas Carter
  1077--The Hot Air Clew                             By Nicholas Carter
  1078--Run to Earth                                 By Nicholas Carter
  1079--The Certified Check                          By Nicholas Carter
  1080--Weaving the Web                              By Nicholas Carter
  1081--Beyond Pursuit                               By Nicholas Carter
  1082--The Claws of the Tiger                       By Nicholas Carter
  1083--Driven from Cover                            By Nicholas Carter
  1084--A Deal in Diamonds                           By Nicholas Carter
  1085--The Wizard of the Cue                        By Nicholas Carter
  1086--A Race for Ten Thousand                      By Nicholas Carter
  1087--The Criminal Link                            By Nicholas Carter
  1088--The Red Signal                               By Nicholas Carter
  1089--The Secret Panel                             By Nicholas Carter
  1090--A Bonded Villain                             By Nicholas Carter
  1091--A Move in the Dark                           By Nicholas Carter
  1092--Against Desperate Odds                       By Nicholas Carter
  1093--The Telltale Photographs                     By Nicholas Carter
  1094--The Ruby Pin                                 By Nicholas Carter
  1095--The Queen of Diamonds                        By Nicholas Carter
  1096--A Broken Trail                               By Nicholas Carter
  1097--An Ingenious Stratagem                       By Nicholas Carter
  1098--A Sharper's Downfall                         By Nicholas Carter
  1099--A Race Track Gamble                          By Nicholas Carter
  1100--Without a Clew                               By Nicholas Carter
  1101--The Council of Death                         By Nicholas Carter
  1102--The Hole in the Vault                        By Nicholas Carter
  1103--In Death's Grip                              By Nicholas Carter
  1104--A Great Conspiracy                           By Nicholas Carter
  1105--The Guilty Governor                          By Nicholas Carter
  1106--A Ring of Rascals                            By Nicholas Carter
  1107--A Masterpiece of Crime                       By Nicholas Carter
  1108--A Blow For Vengeance                         By Nicholas Carter
  1109--Tangled Threads                              By Nicholas Carter
  1110--The Crime of the Camera                      By Nicholas Carter
  1111--The Sign of the Dagger                       By Nicholas Carter
  1112--Nick Carter's Promise                        By Nicholas Carter
  1113--Marked for Death                             By Nicholas Carter
  1114--The Limited Holdup                           By Nicholas Carter
  1115--When the Trap Was Sprung                     By Nicholas Carter
  1116--Through the Cellar Wall                      By Nicholas Carter
  1117--Under the Tiger's Claws                      By Nicholas Carter
  1118--The Girl in the Case                         By Nicholas Carter
  1119--Behind a Throne                              By Nicholas Carter
  1120--The Lure of Gold                             By Nicholas Carter
  1121--Hand to Hand                                 By Nicholas Carter
  1122--From a Prison Cell                           By Nicholas Carter
  1123--Dr. Quartz, Magician                         By Nicholas Carter
  1124--Into Nick Carter's Web                       By Nicholas Carter
  1125--The Mystic Diagram                           By Nicholas Carter
  1126--The Hand That Won                            By Nicholas Carter
  1127--Playing a Lone Hand                          By Nicholas Carter
  1128--The Master Villain                           By Nicholas Carter
  1129--The False Claimant                           By Nicholas Carter
  1130--The Living Mask                              By Nicholas Carter
  1131--The Crime and the Motive                     By Nicholas Carter
  1132--A Mysterious Foe                             By Nicholas Carter
  1133--A Missing Man                                By Nicholas Carter
  1134--A Game Well Played                           By Nicholas Carter
  1135--A Cigarette Clew                             By Nicholas Carter
  1136--The Diamond Trail                            By Nicholas Carter
  1137--The Silent Guardian                          By Nicholas Carter
  1138--The Dead Stranger                            By Nicholas Carter
  1140--The Doctor's Stratagem                       By Nicholas Carter
  1141--Following a Chance Clew                      By Nicholas Carter
  1142--The Bank Draft Puzzle                        By Nicholas Carter
  1143--The Price of Treachery                       By Nicholas Carter
  1144--The Silent Partner                           By Nicholas Carter
  1145--Ahead of the Game                            By Nicholas Carter
  1146--A Trap of Tangled Wire                       By Nicholas Carter
  1147--In the Gloom of Night                        By Nicholas Carter
  1148--The Unaccountable Crook                      By Nicholas Carter
  1149--A Bundle of Clews                            By Nicholas Carter
  1150--The Great Diamond Syndicate                  By Nicholas Carter
  1151--The Death Circle                             By Nicholas Carter
  1152--The Toss of a Penny                          By Nicholas Carter
  1153--One Step Too Far                             By Nicholas Carter
  1154--The Terrible Thirteen                        By Nicholas Carter
  1155--A Detective's Theory                         By Nicholas Carter
  1156--Nick Carter's Auto Trail                     By Nicholas Carter
  1157--A Triple Identity                            By Nicholas Carter
  1158--A Mysterious Graft                           By Nicholas Carter
  1159--A Carnival of Crime                          By Nicholas Carter
  1160--The Bloodstone Terror                        By Nicholas Carter
  1161--Trapped in His Own Net                       By Nicholas Carter
  1162--The Last Move in the Game                    By Nicholas Carter
  1163--A Victim of Deceit                           By Nicholas Carter
  1164--With Links of Steel                          By Nicholas Carter
  1165--A Plaything of Fate                          By Nicholas Carter
  1166--The Key King Clew                            By Nicholas Carter
  1167--Playing for a Fortune                        By Nicholas Carter
  1168--At Mystery's Threshold                       By Nicholas Carter
  1169--Trapped by a Woman                           By Nicholas Carter
  1170--The Four Fingered Glove                      By Nicholas Carter
  1171--Nabob and Knave                              By Nicholas Carter
  1172--The Broadway Cross                           By Nicholas Carter
  1173--The Man Without a Conscience                 By Nicholas Carter
  1174--A Master of Deviltry                         By Nicholas Carter

In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the
books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New
York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance
promptly, on account of delays in transportation.


To be published in January, 1926.

  1175--Nick Carter's Double Catch                   By Nicholas Carter
  1176--Doctor Quartz's Quick Move                   By Nicholas Carter


To be published in February, 1926.

  1177--The Vial of Death                            By Nicholas Carter
  1178--Nick Carter's Star Pupils                    By Nicholas Carter


To be published in March, 1926.

  1179--Nick Carter's Girl Detective                 By Nicholas Carter
  1180--A Baffled Oath                               By Nicholas Carter


To be published in April, 1926.

  1181--A Royal Thief                                By Nicholas Carter
  1182--Down and Out                                 By Nicholas Carter


To be published in May, 1926.

  1183--A Syndicate of Rascals                       By Nicholas Carter
  1184--Played to a Finish                           By Nicholas Carter


To be published in June, 1926.

  1185--A Tangled Case                               By Nicholas Carter
  1186--In Letters of Fire                           By Nicholas Carter




A CARNIVAL OF ACTION

ADVENTURE LIBRARY

  Price, Fifteen Cents       Splendid, Interesting, Big Stories


For the present the Adventure Library will be devoted to the
publication of stories by William Wallace Cook.

The fact that one man wrote all of these stories in no way detracts
from their interest, as they are all very different in plot and
locality.

For example, the action in one story takes place in "The Land of Little
Rain;" another deals with adventure on the high seas; another is a
good railroad story; others are splendid Western stories; and some
are mystery stories. All of them, however, are stories of vigorous
adventure drawn true to life, which gives them the thrill that all
really good fiction should have.


_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_

   1--The Desert Argonaut                  By William Wallace Cook
   2--A Quarter to Four                    By William Wallace Cook
   3--Thorndyke of the Bonita              By William Wallace Cook
   4--A Round Trip to the Year 2000        By William Wallace Cook
   5--The Gold Gleaners                    By William Wallace Cook
   6--The Spur of Necessity                By William Wallace Cook
   7--The Mysterious Mission               By William Wallace Cook
   8--The Goal of a Million                By William Wallace Cook
   9--Marooned in 1492                     By William Wallace Cook
  10--Running the Signal                   By William Wallace Cook
  11--His Friend the Enemy                 By William Wallace Cook
  12--In the Web                           By William Wallace Cook
  13--A Deep Sea Game                      By William Wallace Cook
  14--The Paymaster's Special              By William Wallace Cook
  15--Adrift in the Unknown                By William Wallace Cook
  16--Jim Dexter, Cattleman                By William Wallace Cook
  17--Juggling with Liberty                By William Wallace Cook
  18--Back from Bedlam                     By William Wallace Cook
  19--A River Tangle                       By William Wallace Cook
  20--Billionaire Pro Tem                  By William Wallace Cook
  21--In the Wake of the Scimitar          By William Wallace Cook
  22--His Audacious Highness               By William Wallace Cook
  23--At Daggers Drawn                     By William Wallace Cook
  24--The Eighth Wonder                    By William Wallace Cook
  25--The Cat's-paw                        By William Wallace Cook
  26--The Cotton Bag                       By William Wallace Cook

In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the
books listed below will be issued during the respective months in New
York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers at a distance
promptly, on account of delays in transportation.


To be published in January, 1926.

  27--Little Miss Vassar                   By William Wallace Cook
  28--Cast Away at the Pole                By William Wallace Cook


To be published in February, 1926.

  29--The Testing of Noyes                 By William Wallace Cook
  30--The Fateful Seventh                  By William Wallace Cook


To be published in March, 1926.

  31--Montana                              By William Wallace Cook
  32--The Deserter                         By William Wallace Cook


To be published in April, 1926.

  33--The Sheriff of Broken Bow            By William Wallace Cook
  34--Wanted: A Highwayman                 By William Wallace Cook


To be published in May, 1926.

  35--Frisbie of San Antone                By William Wallace Cook
  36--His Last Dollar                      By William Wallace Cook


To be published in June, 1926.

  37--Fools for Luck                       By William Wallace Cook
  38--Dare of Darling & Co.                By William Wallace Cook
  39--Trailing The Josephine               By William Wallace Cook




  _Western Stories_
  _Love Stories_
  _Sea Stories_
  _Detective Stories_


All classes of fiction are to be found listed in this catalogue.

You never had a better opportunity to make your reading-matter money
buy more.

Ask your dealer to show you these books.


_ALL 15c EACH_

Big books, big stories from every point of view.




Western Story Library

  For Everyone Who Likes Adventure


Ted Strong and his band of broncho-busters have most exciting
adventures in this line of attractive big books, and furnish the reader
with an almost unlimited number of thrills.

If you like a really good Western cowboy story, then this line is made
expressly for you.


_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_

   1--Ted Strong, Cowboy                      By Edward C. Taylor
   2--Ted Strong Among the Cattlemen          By Edward C. Taylor
   3--Ted Strong's Black Mountain Ranch       By Edward C. Taylor
   4--Ted Strong With Rifle and Lasso         By Edward C. Taylor
   5--Ted Strong Lost in the Desert           By Edward C. Taylor
   6--Ted Strong Fighting the Rustlers        By Edward C. Taylor
   7--Ted Strong and the Rival Miners         By Edward C. Taylor
   8--Ted Strong and the Last of the Herd     By Edward C. Taylor
   9--Ted Strong on a Mountain Trail          By Edward C. Taylor
  10--Ted Strong Across the Prairie           By Edward C. Taylor
  11--Ted Strong Out For Big Game             By Edward C. Taylor
  12--Ted Strong Challenged                   By Edward C. Taylor
  13--Ted Strong's Close Call                 By Edward C. Taylor
  14--Ted Strong's Passport                   By Edward C. Taylor
  15--Ted Strong's Nebraska Ranch             By Edward C. Taylor
  16--Ted Strong's Cattle Drive               By Edward C. Taylor
  17--Ted Strong's Stampede                   By Edward C. Taylor
  18--Ted Strong's Prairie Trail              By Edward C. Taylor
  19--Ted Strong's Surprise                   By Edward C. Taylor
  20--Ted Strong's Wolf Hunters               By Edward C. Taylor
  21--Ted Strong's Crooked Trail              By Edward C. Taylor
  22--Ted Strong in Colorado                  By Edward C. Taylor
  23--Ted Strong's Justice                    By Edward C. Taylor
  24--Ted Strong's Treasure                   By Edward C. Taylor
  25--Ted Strong's Search                     By Edward C. Taylor
  26--Ted Strong's Diamond Mine               By Edward C. Taylor
  27--Ted Strong's Manful Task                By Edward C. Taylor
  28--Ted Strong, Manager                     By Edward C. Taylor
  29--Ted Strong's Man Hunt                   By Edward C. Taylor
  30--Ted Strong's Gold Mine                  By Edward C. Taylor
  31--Ted Strong's Broncho Boys               By Edward C. Taylor
  32--Ted Strong's Wild Horse                 By Edward C. Taylor
  33--Ted Strong's Tenderfoot                 By Edward C. Taylor
  34--Ted Strong's Stowaway                   By Edward C. Taylor
  35--Ted Strong's Prize Herd                 By Edward C. Taylor
  36--Ted Strong's Trouble                    By Edward C. Taylor
  37--Ted Strong's Mettle                     By Edward C. Taylor
  38--Ted Strong's Big Business               By Edward C. Taylor
  39--Ted Strong's Treasure Cave              By Edward C. Taylor
  40--Ted Strong's Vanishing Island           By Edward C. Taylor
  41--Ted Strong's Motor Car                  By Edward C. Taylor
  42--Ted Strong in Montana                   By Edward C. Taylor
  43--Ted Strong's Contract                   By Edward C. Taylor




RATTLING GOOD ADVENTURE

SPORT STORIES

_Stories of the Big Outdoors_


There has been a big demand for outdoor stories, and a very
considerable portion of it has been for the Maxwell Stevens stories
about Jack Lightfoot, the athlete.

These stories are not, strictly speaking, stories for boys, but boys
everywhere will find a great deal in them to interest them.


_ALL TITLES ALWAYS IN PRINT_

   1--Jack Lightfoot, the Athlete             By Maxwell Stevens
   2--Jack Lightfoot's Crack Nine             By Maxwell Stevens
   3--Jack Lightfoot Trapped                  By Maxwell Stevens
   4--Jack Lightfoot's Rival                  By Maxwell Stevens
   5--Jack Lightfoot in Camp                  By Maxwell Stevens
   6--Jack Lightfoot's Canoe Trip             By Maxwell Stevens
   7--Jack Lightfoot's Iron Arm               By Maxwell Stevens
   8--Jack Lightfoot's Hoodoo                 By Maxwell Stevens
   9--Jack Lightfoot's Decision               By Maxwell Stevens
  10--Jack Lightfoot's Gun Club               By Maxwell Stevens
  11--Jack Lightfoot's Blind                  By Maxwell Stevens
  12--Jack Lightfoot's Capture                By Maxwell Stevens
  13--Jack Lightfoot's Head Work              By Maxwell Stevens
  14--Jack Lightfoot's Wisdom                 By Maxwell Stevens

[Illustration]




Not How Much

_But_

HOW GOOD


In the editorial preparation of the STREET & SMITH NOVEL the question
of how much in money we were going to get for each volume never really
occurred to us. We lost sight entirely of the fact that these books
sold at 15 cents the copy, and gave as much serious consideration to
the selection and preparation of the stories as though they were going
to sell for ten times as much.

We think, after all, that this is the real test of service. That we
are performing a service to millions of American readers, there can be
no doubt. Never before has such reading matter been placed within the
reach of the modest purse. We have striven to keep our line clean and
feel confident that we have done so.

The very nature of the stories published in the STREET & SMITH NOVELS
insures them consideration from people who have no time nor inclination
to read the classics, and who probably would not read anything else if
they did not have the STREET & SMITH books.

Any decent literature that instills a desire on the part of the general
public to read is, in our opinion, performing a real service.


  STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
  79 Seventh Avenue        New York City




The Dealer


who handles the STREET & SMITH NOVELS is a man worth patronizing. The
fact that he does handle our books proves that he has considered the
merits of paper-covered lines, and has decided that the STREET & SMITH
NOVELS are superior to all others.

He has looked into the question of the morality of the paper-covered
book, for instance, and feels that he is perfectly safe in handing one
of our novels to any one, because he has our assurance that nothing
except clean, wholesome literature finds its way into our lines.

Therefore, the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer is a careful and wise
tradesman, and it is fair to assume selects the other articles he
has for sale with the same degree of intelligence as he does his
paper-covered books.

Deal with the STREET & SMITH NOVEL dealer.


  STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
  79 Seventh Avenue         New York City




Transcriber's Notes


Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected.

A table of contents has been added for the reader's convenience.



*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FOOL OF THE FAMILY ***