Dean Dunham, or, The Waterford mystery

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Dean Dunham, or, The Waterford mystery
Series Title:
Brave & Bold
Alger, Horatio Jr.
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New York
Street & Smith
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1 online resource (29 p.) 29 cm.: ;


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Dime novels. ( rbgenr )
Detective and mystery fiction ( lcsh )
serial ( sobekcm )

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Source Institution:
University of South Florida
Holding Location:
University of South Florida
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All applicable rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
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028877246 ( ALEPH )
07223605 ( OCLC )
B15-00038 ( USFLDC DOI )
b15.38 ( USFLDC Handle )

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Brave and Bold

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r=I \I lllllJ a!, r;;;;' C E-N I r,,, "Mr. Kirby," said Dean. his face flaming with indignation, "do you mean to charge me with taking that pocket book?" Meanwhile, Dean, with flushed and angry countenance. looked from one face to another, but everywhere he met looks of distrust.


.._,.._T 'I BRAVEBOLD .fl Different Complete Story Every Week I-.1 Wiid"-By l.s-Jw yar. Bnlwed &&.,rdinr I Ad "f OngTess in /Ju year JQQJ, in IM 0,liu "/I/ii Liwrian f Ol"IYU4 Was 'nzton, .D c: STREET & SMITH, :ua William SI., N. Y. No. 54. NEW YORK, January 2, 1904. Price Five Cents. DE.AN DUNHAM; OR, I The W" a.-te:rford l\'.Iystery CHAPTER I. ADIN DUNHAM GOES TO ROCKMOUNT. "I've lieen looking forward to this day for weeks, Sar:ih," said Adin Dunham, as he rose from the breakfast table on a certain Wednesday morning in the early part of June. "Why, father, what do you mean?" asked Mrs. Dunham, curi ously. "Because I am to ,receive a thousand dollars-a thou sand dollars in hard cash," answered her husband, in a tone of exultation. "Well, I declare!" ejaculated his wife, in amazement. "Who on earth is going to give you a thousand dollars?" "No one is going to give it to me; it's my own." "How strangely you do talk, Adin Dunham! You ain't out of your mind, be you?" "Not as I know of/' answered her husband, with an amused smile. "Is it really true that somebody is going to pay you a thou sand dollars?" "Yes, it is. You know when Uncle Dan died he left me a piece of stony pasture land in Rockmount ?" "Y cs, I know. You never could sell it, I've heard you say ag'in and ag'jn.'' "Well, I've sold it at last. There's a company goin' to put np a big hotel just on that spot, and they've offered me a thousand dollars for the land. Well, I agreed to let 'cm have it. I'm g-o ing over to-day to get the money." "Why, it11 make us rich, Adln. I never expe cte d yor/d b e wuth a thousand dollars." "I wonder what Uncle would have said i f he'd thought I would have got so much for the land. He never cared much for me, and he only left me that because he thought it wasn't wuth anything. He did better by me than he expected." "How are you goin' over to Rockmount ?" "I'll borrow neighbor Gould's horse and buggy. That horse is pretty strong, and he won't mind the twenty miles-ten there and ten back." "I don't like to have you travelin' so far with all that money. S'pose you should meet with robbers." "There ain't any robbers around here, Saroth. This is a respectable community." "Well, Ad in, you know best. Hadn't you better take D ean with you?" "Why should I take Dean?" "It wo uld be safer for twcr than for one.'' "You don't mean to say that I need a boy of sixteen to protect me? If I thought I did, I d stay at home, and send Dean by himself." "Well, Adin, I don't want to interfere. It wouldn't be much use, either, for you generally have your own way. Have you told any of the neighbors that you are goin' for some money?" "No; except Lawyer Bates." "What did Squire Bates say?" "He told me I'd better not tell anybody else. He talked for ;ill t he world just like you did. Sarah. You haven't chat terin' with the squire, you?"


2 BOLD. ._, "No, Adin, I d on't like him well enough for that. I never f

BRA VE AND BOLD. 3 Brandon did not press the matter. He knew his hther too well, but he complained to his mother. "What on earth can father be thinking of to stay in such a quiet hol e as v,r aterford ?" "It is a pleasant village, Brandon," said his mother, gently. "What is there pleasant about it?" "The people are pleasant." "I have no fit associates." "There is Dean who is about your age." "I hate him!" said Brandon, passionately. "Why do you hate him, my son? Mrs. Dunham tells me he i5 a great comfort to her." "I don't know anything about that. He is very impudent to me. He seems to think h e is my equal." "I am afraid you are too proud, Brandon." "Isn't father the richest m an in Waterford, I'd like to know? Dean Dunham is the nephew of a poor carpenter, who keeps him out of charity." "Ah, Brandon you shouldn't value people for their money." "Dean Dunham is no fit companion for me. If I were in the city, I should find plenty of associa tes." Gentle Mrs. Bates sighed. She could not approve of her son's pride. About four o'clock that afternoon Mrs. Dunham began to look for h e r husband. "It's time your Uncle Adin was at home," she said. "I sup po se his busine ss kept him longer than he expected." Just then Mr. Gould entered the yard. He l ooked excited iind anxious. "Dean,'' he said "s omething's happened to your uncle. My horse just ran into my yard with the empty buggy." Dean turned pale. "\:Vhat shall we do?" he asked. "Come with me. We'll go back over the road, and sec if we can find him. Not a word to your aunt! Vve don't want to m:ike her anxious." CHAPTER II. ADYN RECEIVES HIS MONEY. Adin Dunham's ride to Rockmount had been uneventful. He went at once to the real estate office of Thomas Marks, the agent through whom the sale had be e n effected. Whe n he entered the office it was with a light step and a joyful look, for it was on a very agreeable errand he had come. Mr. Marks was seated at his desk, and looked up as Dunham entered. "I thought you wouldn't fail to come, Mr. Dunham," he said with a smile "If it were to pay money, t here might have been some question oi it. but a man doesn't generally mis s an appointment to receive a payment of a thousand dollars." "That's so, Mr. Marks, I've been lookinii forward to this day." "I've no doubt of it. I suppose such occasions are rare with you ." "This is the first time I ever lucky enough to receive a large sum of money. I can hardly believe I am so rich. You see, Mr. Marks. I am a poor man, and always have been. I in herited the place where I live from my father, but no money .to speak of." "Is the place clear?" "No; it is mortgaged for eight hundred dollars." "Who holds the mortgage?" "Squire Bates, of our village." "I know him. Ee is the man with very prominent teeth." \ "Yes." "Now, Mr. Dunham, how will you receive this money? Shall I give you a check?" "No; I shouldn't know what to do with a check. I never recei ved a check in my life," said Adin Dunham, shaking his he ad. All bank matters were unknown to the carpenter, exc-ept that he had onc:e a small deposit in a savings bank, but he never could get rid of the fear that the bank would break, and he finally drew it out to get his mind at rest "A check would be safer, I think," said the ag'ent. "How can it be safer? The bank might break before I got the money." Thomas Marks smiled. "Well," he said, is a pile of fifty-d olla r bills-twenty of them. I will count them before you, so that you may sec they arc all r ight, and then you may give me a receipt." So the thous2.nd dollars were counted out, and Adin Dunham put them into his capacious pocket, which perhaps in its history of five years had never contained in the aggregate so large a sum of money. The carpenter breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction. The morn er. t he had so Jong antici pated had arrived, and he carried with h i m a sum which seemed to him a fortune, all his, and all to be disposed of as he willed. He straightened up unconsciou sly, for he felt that he had become a person of importance. He jumped into his buggy, and when he had finished his errands in Rockmount, he started in the direction of home. When Adin Dunham reach ed the fork in the road from which there were two different routes to Waterford, he h a lted his horse in indecision. "Seems to me as if I'd rather go over the creek road,H he said, to himself. I don't know why 'tis that I don't fancy goin' through the woods to-day. It's a silly fancy, no doubt, for I've gone that way hundreds of times and I told the squire I'd go that way, and I'll do it, or he'll think strange of it." So he turned to the left instead of the right, and continued his journey. Is it true that we have presentiments of coming evil? This was, at any rate, the case with Adin Dunham. He felt a grnwing uneasiness especially he drew near the tract of woods through which the road ran for nearly quarter of a mile. He had reached the middle point -of the woods, and was begin ning to breathe easier. Neither bc:fore nor behind was any one in sight. But just then a noise was keard to the right, and a tr::tmp burst out, his features c o nceal e d by a mask, and sprang for the hors e's head. "Halt there!" he exclaimed, in a hoarse voice. Aclin Dunham's tongue refused service, and with pallid cheeks, betokening intensE' fear, he stared at the apparition. "What do you want?" he managed to cj a cu late at last. "Quick l Give me that money," hissed the stranger. "Are you a robber?" asked Dunham, with face. "Never mind what I am I I want that money. It will be as much as your life is worth to refuse." Aain Dunham was not a brave man, but the prospect of rosing his fortune, for which he had waited so long, made him des perate. He drew out his whip and lashed the horse. "Get up Captain !" he shouted. Then, he hardly knew how it happened, the tramp into the wagon, and pressed a handkerchief to his mouth. He felt his senses going, but before he lost consciousness he saw


RAVE AND BOLD. that start1ed him. The tramp ope ed his mouth, and h e caught sight of the long, tusk-like teeth. "\V hy, it's Squire Bntes I" he ejaculated, in horror-struck dismay. Then he lost all consciousness, and knew' not what followed. "Confus ion I" muttered the tramp. "Vlhy did I open my mouth?" He thrust h!s hand into Adin Dunham's pocket, after stopping the horse. Then, as it would not be safe to leave the horse under the management of a m a n in a faint, he took the passive form o! the carpenter fro m t h e w a gon and la id him_ down under a tree b y the ro adside. "There! It will be s up p o s ed that he fell fro m t he wag o n in a fit I" h e sai d t o h i m se lf, a s he le ft the sce ne. This w a s wha t h a d happ e n e d to Adi n l)nnh: un. H o w long h e hy in h is se n se l ess conditio n cannot b e told. At length h e op ene d h is e y e s, a nd l ooke d about hi m in a d aze d w ay ,\'her e is the ho r s e and wagon?" h e a ske d hi m self The h o r s e and wago n w e re not t o be see n The C a p t ain had wai ted patiently l oo k ing around from time t o time and gazing in evident d oubt at his drive r, whinneying a hint t hat they h a d been sto pp ing long enough. Pro b a b l y he wo ndered what was the matter wi t h :\di n Dnnh:i.m who, tho u g h n ot h :s was well known to him. At length the Captain decided that he must settle the matter for hims elf. He starfed for home at an eas y pace, and arrived there at length, as we know, very much to the surprise of Mr. Gould a11

"How s hould I know, Adin ?" "It was S quire Bates, I tell y ou. You know bow he lo o ks." T he poor woman went out o f the ro o m and raised her ap ro n to her eyes "Poor Adin is clean upset I s he m urmu red. "It isn t enough that h e's los t hi s m o n ey, he must l ose h i s mind too. fortunes neve r c o m e singly as my poor o ld father used to say. "Dea n ," sh e c ont in u e d, whe n they were alone, "your u ncl e sl sticks to his story that Squi r e Bates robbed him." "Aunt Sarah," answered Dean, graveiy, a thous and d oll would tempt almost anybody!" "Dean, you don't mean to h i n t t h a t the sq uire would "I don't know, aunt. A good many in th<';. world." "I begin to t hink you are as crazy as your u ncle!" Dunham, a l most angrily. "Suppose neit her of us should be crazy, aunt!" Mrs. D unham shook her head. She w l s surprised sensible a boy as Dean should give credence to th e absur lusion of her husband. M eanwhile, Dea n had com e to a conclusio n a s to w h a t He wou l d visit the place where t h e robbery took place-his had described it so acc u rately that there would be n o miE it-an d see whethe r the r e was anything t o b e learned then He found an opport u nity t he very next afternoo n It was a considerab l e walk to the place i ndicated, but h e r; it in due time. H e was afraid he would meet some on wotild him his object, bul it was a lonely spot, and on team passed. He saw it in time to dodge into the wood! so avoided question ing. when the team had p ass ed on he came ou t to the r oa could see the exact position of the buggy at the time stopped by the robbe r and h e found the tree under wL uncle was placed in an unconscious condition. I have satisfied my curiosity," he said, to himself, "but all. I haven't got any inforination J ust then his sharp eyes fell upon a small, bright object ground about three feet from the tree Ile pounced t eagerly, and picked it up. Tt was a slecYe button, apparently g o ld. Just a black initial letter. This letter was "B" Dean's eyes lighted tip. 'This may lcas descended from the buggy, and theu ,,., the ver y tree und<:!r which Adin Dunham !tad, acc:ordin:


so AND BOLD. finally he determined to put it to the proof by letting Brandon see it accid e ntally. He waited for a favorable opportunity. One day when the boys were at recess, and Brandon standing only three feet dis t a nt, he plunged his hand into his pocket, and drew out three pennies and the telltale sleeve button, showing it so plainly that Brandon couldn't help seeing it. "\Vhere did you get that button?" asked Brandon, sharply. "vVhat button?" "The sleeve button marked 'B'. "I found it," answered Dean, compo sedly. "Where did you find it?" "Why do you feel so much interest in it?" demanded Dean. don't know that I am called upon to tell you where I found it." I believe you stole it!" said Brandon. Say that again, Brandon Bates, and I'll knock you over l" )rted Dean, with spirit. "Do you mean to insult me?" I have a right to say what I did. That sleeve button belongs ny father." <\re you sure of that?" asked Dean, his face lighting up, he had made the di s covery he desired. f es, I am sure of it. I have seen the button plenty of times. des you know B s tands for Bates. )id you pick up the other, alsCJ?" asked BrandoIL Vhere did you p;ck it up?" don't think it necessary to tell you." You will have to tell my father." fhat is just what I am willing to do. If you will find out ther your father has lost such a button, and will let me .,., I will go and see him about it, and answer any questions my choose to ask about where I found it." will be just the same if you give it to me." .xcuse me, Brandon; but I prefer to surrender it to your i en Brandon went home from school he lost no time in t ing the matter to his father. lpa," he said, "Dean Dunham's got a sleeve button of That!" exclaimed Squire Bates, nervously. ne of the sleeve buttons marked 'B'. Did you know you ost one of them?" o. So-the Dunham boy has got it?" e s ; he showed it to me at recess." here did he say he got it?" asked Squire Bates, with a bed look. wouldn t tell me. I asked him, but he said he wouldn't y one but you; and, though I told him I knew it was yours, uldn't give it to me." boy did right," s aid Squire Bates, recovering his self :ion. "Perhaps it isn't mine." I know it is you rs, papa 1" persisted Brandon. y well You may ask Dean Dunham to bring it to me. ; oon decide that point." s is awkward!" said the squire, to himself, as he paced 1m after Brandon had left his presence. "I ca n guess he boy found the button. I must put him off the track by sible an explanation as I can devise." father says you are to call with the sleeve button, Dean n,'' said Brandon Bates. in an imperious tone. y well ; I shall be happy to oblige him," answered Dt>an, smile. "I will call this evening." c evening Dean did call, and was ushered into the squire's room.


BRAVE AND "How is your uncle, Dean?" asked Squire Bates. "Not very well, Squire Bates. He hasn't been himself since the robbery." "Oh, ah! Yes. It was, no doubt, quite a shock to him. "By the way," continued the squire, carelessly, "Brandon tells me you have found a sleeve button which he thinks belongs to me." "Yes, sir; would you like to see it r "Certainly, if you have it with you." Dean produced :frum his vest pocket the hutton already re ferred to. "Is it yours?" he inquired. "It looks very much like one I once owned," said the taking it in his hand. "Did you find the mate to it?" "No," answered Dean, in surprise. "Is the other button J, also?" "Yes," said Squire Bates. "By the by, where did you find "Only a few feet from the spot where my uncle was rol -in the woods," answered Dean, scrutini:dng the face of the 1 yer closely as he spoke. But Squire Bates was prepared for disclosure, and betrayed neither surprise nor confusion. "Indeed!" he said. "This is most intere sti ng. V./hen you find it?" "On the day afterward." "It must have been dropped by the person who robbed uncle, then?" "That is just wbat I thought," said bean, much surprise thi s apparent confession on the ,part of the squire "I must now tell you that the sleeve buttons, with a small of money, mysteriously disappeared a)'>out that time," the s continued, in a confidential manner. "I am inclined to attr. their loss to R tramp who was seen prowling a!"ound my 1 the day before your misfortune. It looks as if both bcries were by the same Dean stared at the squire in amazement. seen this crafty explanati on, and though he utterly disbe in its truth, he saw no way of discrediting it. The bomb he anticipated exploding, to the squire's utter confusion i light of this statement appeared a very innocent and ha1 one indeed. He kept silent, but the cum;ing squire with pk noted his discomfiture. Dean was almost inclined to ask himself if this could t real explana\ion, when the thought of his uncle's descript the robber occurred to him But on this point he did not it would do an:v good at present to speak. "I wi sh," added the squire, with a smile, "you had faun the sleeve buttons, a s I would in that case have asked yr ceptapce of them." "They are marked 'B'," obi,ectcd Dean. "True; I did not think of that. Let me ask your accept a small reward," and Squire Jhtcs drew from his pocket dollar. But Dean shrank back. He wns convmcea 111 spite of Squiro B:1tvs was the robber (.f A.din Dunham. and he di< willing to accept any favor at hands. "Thank yo;i," he answered. " I don't care to take m ; "Perhaps you h:ive all the monc,y you want, th. w\th a sneer which he did noi >ttcceed in re;iressi:' "Money is \ory with all t f us, Squire Dat es ."' s:L gra-.flly; "hut I wuulci rather e.un what I g et. 1 i you v me the button I will accept it." "\\"hat good will ir do you?'' the sn; p ''I'rebably none :.t all. But if this tramp should be fou


much, and I wish he hadn't offered me pay for guiding him. He doesn't seem to have been here before." * * * "What, Kirby!" said the squire, as the new arrival entered his study. "Yes, it is I, captain,'' answered Peter Kirby, sinking into an armchair. "You seem comfor t ably fixed here." "Yes; I have tried to make myself comfortable." "And I understand you go by the name of squire?" "How did you learn that?" "From a boy who guided me here." "I hope you did not express any surprise." "Oh, no I I did nothing to arouse suspicion. Are you a justice f the p eace?" "And perhaps preside over trials?" "'v\l ell, yes, sometimes." "Ha, ha!" "What are you laughing at?" demanded the squire, irritably. "It is a good joke. Suppose the go od people here were ac ainted with your real character?" 'Hush; this is no time for jesting. You might be overheard. w, what news?" 'Well there isn't much. Things have been pretty quiet. You ven' t been at any of our meetings lately?" "No; I did not care to excite suspicion. I've been engaged in little enterprise on my own account." "What, here?" 'Yes." 'What was it?" asked Kirby, with interest. ''I learned that one of my neighbors-a simple-minded carpen-was to receive a considerable sum of money, which I had 1 on to think he would bring home in person. I disguised my ', lay in wait for him, and took the whole." How much was there?" <\ thousand dollars I" i!:xeellent And you have it here?" ':{es. It happened to be in fifty-dollar bills, and I have not : d to use any of it lest it should be traced to me. Besides, e is one who suspects me of having been implicated in the likely to prove dangerous?" It is a boy." \ boy 1 How should a boy be likc:ly to suspect you?" '1e squire explained, telling about the sleeve button. Iave you the money by you still?" : es." t uire Bates arose from his seat, locked the door, and then ing a small cabinet drew out a roll of bills-which he \ ed before his visitor." he said. "Here are twenty bills, amounting in all to a and dollars." cer Kirby's eyes brightened covetously as he eyed this large of money was a good haul for one man to make, in a quiet place like he said . I flatter myself," said Squire Bates, complacently. t I can't help express ing my surprise at your buryinir in such a small, out of the way place. If you were in f our large cities, for instance, it would be much more nient, and the rest of the band could communicate with ietter." t ire Bates arose, and paced the room, thoughtfully. 1at is true," he said, after a pause; "but you must remcmLc1


f BRA VE AND BOLD. 9 also that I should stand a better chance of being recognized in a large and importanr place, where there is a well-disciplined and efficient police force, and an orgapized bvdy of detectives. No one would think of looking for me in a small, unimportant vil lage like Waterford, where I pass as the village lawyer, and have a commission as justice of the peace. "But, to come back to business. I shall hand you these bills," and ask you to exchange them for bills of other denominations. You can send them to me in an express package." "There will be some risk about this, won't there, as it is known that the stolen m tney was in fifty-dollar bills?" "Not if you go far enough away. I shall want you to go to Chicago on other business which I will communicate to you. There you will have no difficulty in effecting the change." "I suppose I am to have a commission?" "Yes; you can retain fifty dollars." "That is small, captain," said Kirby, in a tone of discontent. "It may be, but I have other work for you to do which will incr'ease your remunerations." "What sort of work?" "I have already told you of a boy in the village who suspects me of being implicated in the robbery." "Yes." "I mean you to take him with you." "What, and to abduct him? That will be difficult and dan gerous." "No. you are to offer him lucrative employment, and he will go with you willingly. Then you are to get him into trouble, involve him in a crime, perhaps, and he won't dare to come back. I learn from Brandon that he is anxious to obtain a posi tion. However, I will give you detailed instructions how to pro ceed." CHAPTER VI. DEAN IS ENGAGED AS l'RIVATE SECRETAAY. The next day Dean rt>ceived a Jetter by a messenger. Dean tore open the envelope, and read as follows, in tbe hand writi9g of Squire Bates: "DEAN DUNHAM: I understand from my son, Brandon, tllat you are seeking employment, and have no objection to leave home. A gentleman at present visiting me is in want of a clerk and secretary, and he would. like to have an interview with you. As be leaves town to-morrow, I send for you this evening. "RENWICK BATES." Dean felt that nothing would suit him better. He felt grateful t0 Squire Bates for what he regarded as a piece of unexpected kindness, and he went at once to the h0use. He soon found himself in the presence of the squire and of Peter Kirby. "Good-evening, Dean," said the squi re, pleasantly. "This is my friend, Mr. Kirby." "I have seen thl' young man before," said Kirby, opening his mouth in what he tried to make a pleasant smile. "Yes, sir. I remember you." Looking at Kirby as his future employer, Dean was pre pos sessed in his favor. He w as certainly far from an agreeable looking man, but Dean was disposed to judge him withou t prejudice. He knew that a fair outside sometimes accompanie s very undesirable traits, and the reverse might also be the case. "If you r..-:id my note, you understand that Mr. Kirby is in want of a young man, or boy, to assist him in the capacity of clerk or private secretary," the squire put in. "I hope I may suit, sir," said Dean, earnestly, addressing him self to Peter Kirby. "Oh, I am not very hard to suit. If a boy does his duty, and studies my interests J1e won't find me a hard master." "I think I can promise that I will serve you faithfully, sir." "Is your uncle willing to have you leave home?" asked the squire. "Yes I've talked the matter over with him." "Then there will be no difficulty there." 'How soon would yo u like to have me begin, sir; that is, if you are willing to engage me?" "\,Yell, you can report at French's Hotel on Saturday-day after to-morrow. I suppose you can find your way to New York alone?" "Oh, yes, sir. I have never been there, but I am sure I shall have no difficulty." "I will give the boy the necessary directions, Kirby," said Squire Bates. "He has a tongue in his head, and can ask questions." "What salary do you expect, Master Dunham?" asked '.Kirby. "I will leave that to you, sir." "I am willing to pay a fair salary, say twenty-five dollars a month, and your board and lodging thrown in. Will that be satisfactory?" "It is more than I anticipated," said Dean, quite dazzled by the offer. He reckoned rliat he would be able to send some money home to his uncle and aunt every month-and thus have the pleasure of making up to some extent for the expense which they had incurred on his account. ''Then that matter is settled. Here is a card with my address on it. You will find me at French's Hotel at one o'clock in the day. If anything occurs to detain me, you can wait in the office till I return. My friend, Bates, here, will supply money for your journey." Dean understood that there was nothing more to be said, and he arose and took his leave. He went home in a fever of ex citement, for he felt that he was about to enter the great world of which he had heard so much, and which he so earnestly longed to see. Adin Dunham and his wife were surprised and the brilliant prospects of their nephew. "Did this Mr. Kirby really agree to pay you twenty-five dol lars a month, Dean?" asked the carpenter. "Yes, uncle, and lie asked me if it would be satisfactory." "It seems strange," mused Adin. "\.Vhy, when I was your age I was workin' for fifty cents a week and my board." "I get board, too, Uncle Adin." "It's a great offe1. And you're a stranger to him, too." "Yes; he took me on Squire Bates' recommendation." "fo'ather," said Mrs. Dunham, anxiously, "do you think it's safe for a boy as young as Dean to go out into the world alone? He's only a child." "I'm almost sixteen, aunt," said Dean, mortified. "But you don't know nothin' of the world." "Neither do you or I, wife, though we're both risin' sixty. Dean has got to take his chances. "\Ve'll trust him, wife. He means well, and if he's keerful he'll come out all right." At length th<> morning came for Dean's departure. He bade good-by to the old folks, and walked proudly to the railroad station with a bundle of clothing under his arm. Rather to his surprise he found Squire Bates at the little depot, walking up and down on the platform. "So you're starting, are you, Dean?" said the squire.


\ IO BRA VE AND BOLD. "Yes, sir." "I hope you'll do your duty by your employer." ''I shall try to do so, sir." "I take it for granted that you will verify the good things I have said of you. If you don't-if you throw discredit on me, nnd on your worthy uncle and aunt, why then--" and he paused. Dean liste ned to hear how he would end the sentence. "Then," re s umed the squire, I honestly adl'ise you to stay away, and not return to Waterford." "I won't come back unl ess I can come back with a good rec ord," said Dean, impetuously. "A good resolution! Stick to it, my l ad." The train came up with a rush, and Dean got on board. He was a little disturbed by the squire's parting words. Why should he harp so much on Dean's acting discreditably? "It almost seems as if he expected I would," soliloquized Dean. "If I know myself I know that I am honest, industrious and faithful. Mr. Kirby won't be disappointed in me, unless he is an unreasonable man." CHAPTER VII. DEAN BECOMES SUSPlCIOUS. \.Va!erford was about fifty miles from New York, and the jo1.1mey to ok two hours. Arriving in the metropolis, Deah had little difficulty in finding French's. This was some years since, before the temporary clo sing of this old-established house for travelers. Dean, looking over the regi ste r, found this entry : "Peter Kirby, Chicago. Room 197." "Is Mr. Kirby at home?" he inquired. "I will send up and see," said the clerk. "Do you wish to go up at the same time?" "Yes, sir." Dean followed the bell boy upstairs to one of the upper floors. He had never been in a large hotel before, and as he saw door after door opening on the corridor he thought the hotel must be one of the largest buildings in New York. In this, of course, he was very much mistaken. "That's Mr. Kirby' s room," said the bell boy, pointing to one hundred and ninety-seven. "Shall I knock, or will you?" ''I'll go in; he expects me," answered Dean; ana, with a want of ceremony which was the result of his inexperience, he did not stop to knock, but opened the door. Sitting at a table was his employer, with a numb1cr of bank Lills spread out before him, which he appeared to be engaged in counting. Naturally, Dean glanced at them, and his surprise was great when he recognized the denomination of the bills. They were all fifties! What could it mean? Was this man Kirby the one who had robbed his uncle? But his intimate re lations with Squire Bates presented another explanation. The bills might have been received from the squire. Dean's reflections were cut short by his employer. vVith a look ct alarm and annoyance he swept the bills to gether. and turning to Dean, said harshly: "vVhy did you come in without knocking?" "Excuse me!" said Dean, in a tone o f apology, "I didn't think." "It was positi vely rude, said Kirby, in an excited tone. "One would know that yell had been hrought up in the country." "I haven't been around much," said Dean, "but I h ope to im prove, especially if I travel about with you." "There's no harm done," said Peter Kirby, coolini down rapidly, concluding that D ean had seen nothing to excite his sus picion; "but I was 2 little startled when you opened the doot. It's dangerous for a m an to be seen with money in a large city like this, for there are plenty of designing persons who might se ek .to relieve him of it." "I hope you don't suspect me, l\'Tr. Kirby." "Certainly not. v. ell, you ldt Waterford this morning?" "\'es, sir." "\Vhcre is your luggage?" "Herc, sir," answered Dean, showing his Kirby frowned. ''It \\'ill nenr do to tra, el with a bundle like that. You must have a valise. I haven't time to go around with you. Do you think you can be trusted lo find a place where the y are sold?" "Yes, sir." "Herc is a fi\c-dollar bjll. 'i' on ca n take it and l ook up :i valise. Three or four dollars ought to buy one. A small one will answer, judging from the size of your bundle. I suppose you have had nothing to eat s ince you left \Vaterford?" crNo, sir." '"You can go to a restaurant and get some dinner. This hotel is on the European system, and doesn't provide regular board." "Shall I take my bundle with me, sir?" "Y cs; you can transfer the contents to the valise when you have bought o ne. \.\The n you return you can put your name on the hotel book, and take a room with this Guy Gladstone." "Thank you, sir." Dean followed his empl oyer's instructions. First, he got something t0 eat. After dinner he found a place near the corner of Wall Stree t and Broadway, where he bought a valise of neat appearance and good quality for three dollars. He adopted Mr. Kirby's suggestion, and, opening his bundle, put the into his new purchase. He then turned down Wall Street, looking curiously into the windows as he passed. At one-a broker's office-Dean found something to surprise him. At a large counter stood Mr. Kirby wi t h a roll of bills before him-the same, no doubt, that Dean had seen him countirlg at the hotel. He appeared to be purchasing government bonds, for a clerk passed him several, and gathered up the bills in exchange. "I wish I knew whether that m oney I saw :Mr. Kirby count ing belonged to my poor uncle," thought Dean. But his suspicions, strong as they were, might prove to do his employer injustice. At any rate, he resolved to keep on the lookout for additional evidence which might tend either to con firm or to disprove them. If he had been present in the broker's office, he would have heard something to confirm the distrust he felt. When Peter Kirby was asked by the broker's clerk, as usual', his name, he hesitated for a second, then answered boldly, "Renwick Bates." So in the broker' s book the sale of bonds was recorded as having been made to Renwick Bates. Had the squire known this, he would have felt very angry with his confederate, as, in case the fifty-dollar note s were traced, his name would beinvolved. Dean was taking supper at a restaurant not far from the ho tel when Mr. Kirby came in, and sat at a tab!' near him. Presently another man came in. and took a at the saJ:1e table. He seemed to ha\e been expected. "You're late, Pringle," sa id Kirby. "Yes, I was detain,,d. I went to Jersey City to se e my wife." "You are better provided than I. I have never found time to get married." "Well, it's awkward sometimes m our business to have such an incumbrance."


BRAVE AND BOLD. III "Does your wife know what bu si ness you are in?" "Scarcely. She's a good church woman, and would be hor rified. She thinks I am a travel ing salesman." Kirby laughed. "I have no wife to deceive,'' he said. "That is where I haye the advantage of you. However, you arc no worse off than the captain. I've been up to s ee him." "\\'here?" "In the country," answered Kirby, evasively. "He's a big gun out there. They call hio: squire." Both laughed. "So he is married?" "Yes, and has a son who is his very image, even to the long, tusk-like teeth. If evt"r he gets into trouble it's beca use they will give him away." "They certainly arc very peculiar." "They are dange rous,' : responded Kirby, with emphasis. "If I had them I would get rid of them in short order; but the captain owned to me that he was afraid of the dentist." "I supposl' his family are in the dark as to his position?" "Undoubtedly. His son is an impudent young cub. It would have given me pleasure to box his ears.' He evidently thinks his father a man of great importance, and is inflated by his own estimate of his social conseqt1ence." "What makes the captain stay in such an obscure place?" "He tells me it is on account bf his family, and also becau se it adds to hi s safety." "When are we to see him?" "He will be in Chicago next month, a nd lay out work for us to do One thing I will say for him, he has good executive talent, but he ought not to keep out of the way so much of the time." Then the talk drifted into other channels. To this conversation Dean liste ned with the utmost attention. He felt interested and excited. He could not fail to understand that Kirby was referring to Squire Bates. The mystery was deepening. Who and what was this man who in Waterford posed as a l awye r, a reputable citizen, and a justice of the peac e ? It was clear that he was a llied to some outside organization in which he wished tc conceal his member ship. This man Kirby, who now Dean's employer, was a friend and associate. Why, und e r the circumstances, should Squire Bates have been willing to send him off as Kirby's clerk or secretary? If there was anything to conceal, it was only giv ing him an opportunity to find it out. "I must keep my eyes open," thought Dean. I mean to find out who robbed my uncle, and whether Squire Bates had anything to do with It. If I could only recover the money I should be happy." CHAPTER VIII. DEAN BECOMES HIS OWN MASTER. Dean didn't see his employer till the next morning. Mr. Kirby did not ask him where he had :;pent the evening previous, as De a n thought it po ssi ble he might do. Indeed, he see med in unusual good spirits, and h anded his new clerk a couple of dollars to defray any exepnses he might incu r. Late in the evening Dean started for Chicago with Mr. Kirby, and two days later the two regi stered at the Commercial Hotel corner of L ake and D earborn Streets Dean enjoyed.the journey'. He caught sight of the famous falls of Niagara, and would like to h ave stopped for a f ew hours there to see the cataract at his leisure, but of course didn' t venture to make such a request of Mr. Kirby, who, as he was traveling for his own pur pos es, not for the gratification of his private secretary. At the Commercial Hotel Dean and his employer occupied the same room. They remain e d in the Lake City for a week. Dean's lab o rs were very being confined to the writing of four letters, one of which is subjoined as a specimen. It was addressed to a certain John Carver, of San Francisco. It ran thus: "DEAR SIR: You may sell out the two hundred shares of mining stock which you hold of mine as soon as a s atisfactory price can be obtained. I think I ought to get twenty dollars per share, but will accept eigi1teen if Y.OU think it best. The amount you c a n deposit to my credit in tlie B a nk of Nevada. Yours truly, PETER KIRBY." Kirby watched Dean's face when he was writing this letter. It was intended for effect s imply, and to dispel the suspicions of his young secretary. But Dean had been gaining rapidly in knowl ed g e of the world, and especially in the knowledge of his pl oye r, and he had little belief in his mining property. "Shall I mail the letter for you, Mr. Kirby?" asked the young secretary. "No; I shall be going out my se lf," answered his employer. "You may hand me the when you have put it in the envelope." Kirby carelessly dropped the letter into his pocket, and when D ea n was out of the way he destroyed it. It was never intended to be mailed. "The boy loo ks skeptical," said Kirby to him s elf, as he sent Dean to the office to buy a postage stamp. "It isn't ea'Sy to pull the wool over his eyes. I trylSt get rid of him, and that soon." Two days later Dean and his em ployer reached a small town in Iowa which we will call Clifton. They passed the night at the American Hotel, an d occupied a room with two beds. Kirby arose first in the morning, and went out, leaving Dean asleep. when the b oy awoke he arose and dressed himself. He was putting on his coat, when he noticed an open letter addressed to Kirby which had fallen on the floor. Dean picked it up, and was about to put it away to return to Kirby, when his eye caught the postmark "Waterford," and the signature Renwick Bates. Though under ordinary circumstances Dean would not have f elt justified in reading a letter not addressed to himself, the peculiar circumstances, and the suspicion he entertained relative to the share these two men probably had in the robbery of his uncle, decided him to take advantage of the opportunity which presented itself to him of acquiring some information on the subject. This was t he letter which Dean read with an interest that may be imagined : "FRIEND KIRBY: I have not received the government bonds which you purchased with the bills I gave you to dispose of. How did you send them? I cannot understand how such a package could have miscarried if properly addressed and for wa rded with suitable precautions. I shall hold you responsible for them, and say emphatically that I regard the failure to reach me as something strange a nd mysterious. I do not like to express distrust, hut I require you to send me the of the express company to whom you committed the package. "In regard to the boy Dean you understand my wishes. l don't wish him to return to Waterford. It will be easy to get him into trouble at such a distance from home that he will find it hard to get back. You can write me a letter which I can show at my discretion to his friends, which will discredit any storie' he may i1wcnt about you or myself. "RENWICK BATES." Dean read this letter with eager interest. He felt that it would


ll2 BRA VE AND BOLD. be a formidable proof against Squire Bates, and he carefully con c eal ed it in his in side vest pocket. "So Mr. Kirby me ans to get me into trouble," he soliloquized. I sha ll have to be on my guard." Dean went below and took breakfast, not bein g in the habit of waiting for hi s employer. Mr. Kirby ente r ed the breakfast-room a s he was lea ing it. "We take the ten o'clock train," he said briefly. "Don't leave the hot el." "All right, sir; I'll st ay in the office ." At t en o'clock they stepped on board a western bound train. Dea n f ea red that Kirby would miss his letter, and make inquiries a bout it, but i ts lo ss appeared not to have been discovered. They t oo k seats, and the train started. Dean caught Kirby regarding him with a peculiar gaze, and it made him uneasy. Vias he de vising some plot, of which D ea n was lo be the victim? Two h ours l ate r the train had traver ed fifty miles. The train b oy came through the car, carrying a supply of the late s t novels. Kirby was not in general much of a reader, but on this occasion h e stopped the boy, and l ooked over his books. "I thin k I will take this b ook," he said, selecting a Pinkerton l!etective story. "I s ell a good many of that se ri es," said the boy, glibly. Kirby put hi s hand into his pocket, and withdrew it with a s tartled expression. "I can't find my pocketbook," he said. Severa l of the pas se ngers look e d around, and apprehensively ifrlt for their own wall ets \ Vhen did you have it last, sir? a sked an old gentleman in t he next seat. "At the Clifton railroad station, sir.' I bought tickets there." "Are you sure you put back the wallet into your pocket?" "Yes, I am positive." "There must be a pickpocket on the train, then ." "But I haven't expos ed myself," said Kirby, puzzled. "I took my seat h e re, with my boy, and have not stirred sin c e "Your so n, I suppose?" "No; he i s a bpy in my employ." "Humph!" said the old man, eying Dean dubiously. Dean heard these words, and he exclaimed, indignantly: "I am riot a thief, if th at is what the gentleman m eans ." "Of cours e not," said Kirby, soot hingly "Still, just to c o n ivince him now, you may as well search your pockets Dean thrust his hand into his right-hand pocket (he wore a lack coat), and it came in contact with something unexpected. !He drew it out, with the lost pocketbook in it. "Is it possible?" ejaculated Kirby. "Just what I thought l" said the old man, nodding emphatically. "I wouldn't have believed it," said Kirby. "Mr. Kirby," said Dean, his face flaming with indigm.tion, "do y o u mean to charge me with taking that pocketbook?" "Wha t else can I think? Oh, Dean, I am grieved to find you oishonest." "I kn ow nothing of how it into my po cke t," said Dean, hotly; "but J suspect.'' "What do you suspect?" "That you put it t here to get me into trouble.'' "You hear him!'" said Kirby, turning to t he old man. "'What effrontery!" exclaimed the old gentkman. "I c\on't know what t he is c oming to. Have you ever mis sed anything before, sir?" "Two or three a.:ticles of jewel ry ,;' amwered Kirby, "b ut it never occurred to me to suspect the boy.'' "It seems pretty clear now." "Yes, should say so.H Meanwhile, Dean, with flushed and angry countenance, l ooked from one face to a no ther, but everywhere he met looks of di!t trust. It was clear that the majority of the passengers believed him guilty. He understood now the nature of the plot against him, and the letter in his pocket would be a sufficient proof. But he did not wish to produce it. He chose rather to keep it on ac c ount of the evidence which it contained agai n st Squire Bates. "\Vhat shall you do abont it?" asked the ol d gcntlern<1.::i, who 5 eemed to feel particularly hostile again s t Dean. "I don't k n ow, answered Kirby, hesitating. "The boy ought to be puni E hed If it were my case, I woul

BRA VE AND BOLD. 13 collection of silver coins and pennies. All told he found he had hut sixty-se'Von cents, and he was probably twelve hundred miles from heme. The chances were that it would cost him at least three cents a mile, or thirty-six dollars, to get back to \Vaterford. He would have been glad to have the thirty-six d9llars, but he had no intention of going back until he could carry something with him. He did not want to acknowledge that he had made a failure. Dean ascertained that the town in which he was stranded (for he hadn't money enough to get out of it) was Granville. The vil lage appeared to be half a mile away, and might at a rough guess contain a thousand inhabitants. Like mo st small Western town s it con s isted of one main street, with short side streets opening out of it. For a place of the size it seemed to be wide awake and enterpri s ing, more so than a village of corresponding population al the East. After SJ?ending a few minutes at the depot Dean took his valise and trudged o n in the directio11 of the t o wn. What he should do when he got there he hardly knew. He was ready for anything that might turn up, and he did not worry as much as he would if he had been twice as old. Dean had accomplished about half the distance when a voice hailed him, "Halloa, youngster I" Dean turned in the directi o n of the voice and his glance fell on a man of p erhaps twenty-five, who was stretched comfortably unde r a tree by the roadside. He had a knapsack and wore a velveteen suit. Something in his appearance gave Dean the im pression that he was an actor. Responding to his greeting, which was accompanied by a pleasant smile, Dean answered, "Good-day l" "Where are you t raveling, young chap?" "I don't know," responded Dean. "I suppose I am on my way to the village." "Do you live about ?" "No, I live in New York State." "So do I, when I'm at home, but I'm not often at home." "Are you an actor?" "That's what I call myself. That's what I am styled by ad miring friends, though some of the critics are unkind enough to express doubts. .At present I am in hard luck. I came west with a dramatic company which has gone to pieces. I am travel ing homeward on my uppers. Permit me to introduce myself," and he doffed a soft hat which he wore, "as Cecil Montgomery, not wholly unknown to the metropolitan stage." There was something attractive in his good-humored reckless ness that impressed Dean favorably. "My name ii Dean Dunham," he responded, "not known on any stage." "Excuse the impertinence, but are you a young man of fortune?" "Yes, if you call sixty-seven cents a fortune." "Dean, my boy, you have ten cents the advantage of me. H ;you have any plans that with our united capital we may be able carry out, my wealth is at your service." "I have no plans except to get something to eat said Dean. "I am with you there," said the actor, rising with alacrity from his recumbent position. "Know you of a hostelry?" "If that means a restaurant, I think we may find one in the village." "Wisely guessed. If you have no objection to my company, we will walk together." "I shall be glad of your company, Mr. Montgomery." "You do me proud, Mr. Dunham," and the actor once mo:re doffi:d hii hat, and bowed low. "If ;you don't mind, my bo1, suppose you tell me what brings yQu out here, so far from home? I came with a combination, as I have explained." "I came as private secn:tary with a gentle1uan-no, :I: man named Kirby. He chose to charge me with stealing his pocket book, and di sc harged me on th<: Lrain, refusing to pay me back wages." "Steal-with that honest face! \Vhy, I d trust you witq my entire wealth-fifty-seven cents-and wouldn't lose a minute's sleep." "Thank you," said Dean, smiling. "I hope I desetve your con fidence." So it seems that we are both in very much the same plight. We must huslle for a living. I wish you an actor." "\Vhy?" "We might give a joint performance, and so p ick up a few pennies. Can you play on any in strument?" Dean drew a harmomca from his pocket and displayed it. "I can play a little on this," be said. "Give us a taste of your quality." Dean put the harmonica in his mouth and played several popular airs in very creditable style. He had practiced considerably in Waterford, and when he left home chanced to bring his favor ite instrument with him. Mr. Montgomery applauded vociferously. "That's capital I" he said. "I have an idea. Our fortune 15 made." "Is it? I'm very glad to hear it." "Let me explain. I am a dramatic J ack-of-al!-trades. I can sing, dance, reci te and give imitations. Why shouldn't we give a joint exhibition? I venture to say we can charm and astonish the good P\!Ople of Granville, and gather in golden shekels for ourselves." "But what am I to do?" "Listen. You are the world-renowned Dean Dunham, the champion player on the harmonica, who has charmed tens of thousands, and whose name is a household word from the At lantic to the Pacific. Do you understand?" "I shall begin to think I am a humbug." "So be it! Humbug makes money and rides at ease, whilo modest merit goes barefoot aud tramps over dusty roads." "That is complimentary to us, for it happens to be our condi tion just at present." "Then let us abandon it I It doesn't pay. Will you join me, and try your luck with the good people of Granville?" Dean hesitated a moment, but only a moment. He must do something, and nothing else seemed to present itself. If any one chose to pay for the privilege of hearing him play on the harmonica, he had no objection to receiving the money. he would be at no t.-ouble in the matter. Mr. Montgomery would make all arrangements, and he woulq only have to take the part that might be assigned him. "I am at your service, Mr. Montgomery." "Your hand on it I We will, we must be successful. In after years, when fame and moqey are yours, think that it was I, Cecil Montgomery. who assisted you to make your debut." "I certainly will, Mr. Montgomery," &aid Dean, falling into his companion's humor. By this time they had reached the village. A sign over a small one-story building attracted their attention REsTAURAN? AND (;o)J'A& Hwu..


14 BRA VE AND BOLD. "Let us enter," said the actor. "It is astonishing what an appe tite I have. If we are to give an entertainment we must be fed." Fortunately the prices at the restaurant and coffee house were very moderate, and the two travelers were able to make a plenti ful meal, though it reduced their stock of money almost to nothing After dinner Mr. Montgomery indulged in a five-cent cigar, but Dean declined to smoke. "Stay here, Dean," said his companion. "I hear there is a weekly paper published in Granville. I will sec the editor, and ask him to join us in the speculation, sharing the profits. The paper appears to-morrow. He can give us a big puff that will insure our sucC'ess." "Suppose he won't do it?" "Leave it to me I I have a most persuasive tongue. Granville must not let such an opportunity slip. It must see me act and listen to your melodious strains." Nearly an hour passed. Then Montgomery came back radiar..t. "It's all fixed," he said. "You make your debut to-morrow evenifli. I have engaged board at the hotel for us both." CHAPTER X. D E A N S D It B U T. The p ex t morning thi: Granvill'e Weekly Palladium appeared, containing a flaming notice of the forthcoming entertainment, in which the merits of the two performers were extolled in the hi ghe5 t terms. Dean opened his eyes in amazement when he read the following tributeto himself: "At immense expense the services of DEAN DUNHAM, the Champion Harmonica player of America, have been secured. This young performer, still only a boy in years, will spend the next season in Europe, having been offered engagem ents in Lon don, Paris and Vienna, and he is now playing a farewell series of engagements in his native land. Probably the citizens of Gran ville may never again have the opportunity of hearing him." "What do you say to that, Dean, my boy?" asked Montgomery, nudging him in the side. "It makes me feel foolish, Mr. Montgomery," said Dean, blush ing. "If it should be read in Waterford the people would never get through laughing at me." "They won't read it, my boy, unless it turns out true." "Turns out true?" "Yes. I believe you can win popularity by your play ing. We can tell better this time to-morrow. If you do, how can we tell but the rest may also come true?" "If it were the violin or the banjo I But a little cheap harmonica I" "Never mind what the instrument is if you know how to handle it. Now let me tell you one thing that will encourage you: I think we arc going to have a big house." "What makes you think so?" "':acre hasn"t been an entertainment in Granville for several week s. The people are hungry to be amused. They patronize p.:rformanccs like ours much better in the West than in the East. There the people are more humdrum and steady going. Here they are more excitable." "It seems ridiculous, my playinit for money!" "How much money have you in your pocket?" "Five cents." "Then it strikC! me it would be more ridiculous not playing for money. Whatever talents we possess our Creator meant us to c:xerciae for our liendit and the plea&uro of the community.'' "At any rate, I'll do my best." "Then you'll do all I ask. By the way, I am going to haYe you take the tickets this eveniHg, up to the time of the per formance. It will save mone>'., and draw public attention." "I can do that, at any rate." The hall in which the entertainment was to take place con tained about four hundred people When eight o'clock struck it was packed, many having come from neighboring towns. The price of admission was thirty-five cents for adults, and twenty five for children. It was clear therefore, that the receipts must be considerably over a hundred dollars. The rent of the hall being but ten dollars, this allowed a large margin for profit. Punctually at eight o'clock the entertainment commenced with a brief introductory speech from Mr. Montgomery. "Gentlemen and ladies ," he said, "it has long been the desire of Mr. Dunham and myself to appear in your beautiful village, and at length our wishes are to be gratified. We shall do our utmost to please you, and if we fail, think that it ia our ability and not our will that is lacking. I will commence with a humorous recitation, in the character of an old darkey." He di sa ppeared behind the screen, and emerged in a very short time disguised as a Southern negro. This impersonation hit the popular taste. It was followed by a song, and then Mr. Montgomery introduced Dean in a highly flattering manner. Dean appeared with a flushed face, and a momentary feeling of trepidation. Making a bow to the audience, he struck up the favorite melody of the day. He really played very well, the excitement of playing before an audience helping rather than interfering with him, and his p e rformance was greeted with hearty an d long-continued applause. At Mr. Montgomery's sug gestion he gratified the audience with an encore. "You have done yourself proud, Dean, my boy," said Mont gomery, when Dean retired behind the screen. "Our entertainment is a success. Our audience is good-natured." "I can't he l p thinking how the folks at home would be surprised if they knew I was performing in public,H said Dean, smiling "And making money out of it. That's where the best part comes in. Follow up your success, my boy. I shall i'O out twice and then call on you again." The next time Dean appeared with confidence, being satisfied that the audience were friendly. His second appearance was equally satisfactory, and he was compelled to blush when he overheard one school girl on the front tow of benches whisper to anoth e r, "Isn't he sweet?" ,"It seems to me I am learning a good deal about myself," thought Dean. "I must take care not to get conceited." The dual entertainment lasted about an hour and a half, Mr. Montgomery of course. using up the lion's share of the time. At last it conchtded, and Dean and his companion gathered up the money and went home. The profits over and above expenses amounted to eighty dollars, of which the editor, according to the agreement, received forty per cent., or thirty-two dollars. The remainder, forty-eight dollars, was divided equally between Dean and Mr. Montgomery. As the hotel charge was but a dollar a day for each, they felt handsomely compensated for their exer tions. CHAPTER XI. DEAN LOSES HIS PARTNJ!:JI. When the two partners returned to the hotel wlth the proceeda of the entertainment in pockets, they were in high spirits. "I feel as rich aa Vanderbilt." aaid Montiomery, in exultation.


BRA VE AND BOLD. 15 "And I 1eel like an Astor or a Gould," chimed in Dean. "Peter Kirby did me a good tum when he discharged me." "Dean, yoll .-re a star! I had no idea of your talent." "Don't flatter me, Mr. Montgomery,'' said Dean, blushing. "You will make me self-conceited. I was lucky in fallin& in with you." "Well said, my boy I I see you d on't grudge me my share of the credit. vVe will keep on, will we not?" "As long as there is any money in it." "Precisely. YoUT hand on that." In pt!rsuance of this ageement, three evenings la,cr they gave an entertainment in the town of Cameron, t\\enty miles away. Circumstances were not as favorable, but they divided tweniy dollars net profits. For three weeks the combination continued to give entertain ments, arranging from two to three a week. They ditl not again meet with the success which had greeted them at Granville, but in almost e\e ry case they made expenses, and a fair sum besides. At the end of this time, each of the partners found himself possessed of about forty dollars. At the close of a concert at a small town ,jn Missouri, on re turning to the hotel, Mr. Montgomery chanced to take up a copy of the New York H ttrald in the office. He ran the adver tisemenh on the fir s t page, including the "Personals," when all a t once his color changed, and he looked agitated. "What's the matter, Mr. Montgomery?" asked Dean. ''Bad news, my boy!" said the actor, sadly. "Look at that I" Dean read the following among the personals: "CECIL MoNtGO)!ERY, JR. Come hom e at once! Your m other is very sick." "My poor old mother I" said the actor, feelingly. "She may be dead by this time. Why couldn't I have seen this notice be fore?" "What is the date of the paper?" asked Dean. "It is five days old." "I suppose you will go at once." Yes, I mu st. I never would forgive my s elf if I did not hurry home on the chance of seeing the deaa old mother once more." "You are right, Mr. Montgomery I w o uld do the same if I were fortunate enough to have a mother living." "Of course that ends our partnership for the P.resent. Will you go home witM' me, Dean?" Dean shook his head. "No, I have nothing to go home to. It would take all my m oney, and would be nothing for me to do in Waterford." "But you can't give entertainments alone." "I can make my Jiving somehow. I have forty dollars, and that would last me some time, even if I got nothing to do When Dean bade his companion good-by at the station the !}ext morning, and turned away, a forlorn feeling came over him, a nd he felt tempted to take the next train East h imse lf. But the thought of going back to Vvaterford as poor as he started. and with no prospect of employm ent, braced him up, and he rr-;olved to pu s h on westward and take his chances. He returned to t),c hotel, and sat do\\'n to consider his plans. There a pleasant su rpri se awaited him. "There's a gentleman to see ,you lllr. Dunham," said the clerk. "Where is he?" asked Dean. "He went out to make a call in the village, but will be back in fifteen m i nu tes. This is his card.'' Dean took the card in his hand, and read the name: SAMUEL GuiHHSON. "Any acquaintance of yours?" asked the cleric. "No; I never heard the name." "I think he wants you to play to-morrow evening He liv's in the next town, Carterville." "Mr. Montgomery has been called East. I am afn\d will stop our entertainment s." "He did not ask for Mr. Montgomery, only for yo1 L" Mr. Gunnison soo n came in. He was a slender, k-ccm man, with a pleasant face. I know you are Dean Dnnham," he sa id, extending his !land, "for I h eard you play last evening. Arc you engaged for to morrow'" H:No, sir." "Then I should lik e to en gage your servi ces An ment is to be given in our t ow n hall for the benefit of our town libra ry For the most part l oca l talent is employed. \Ve are to have a short play and a few songs I, as manager, have thought it would help us if we could advertise you in connection with the home attractions." "I shall be glad to make an engagement,'' said Dean, pleasantly. "\Vhat would be your terms?" asked Mr. Gunnison, a little anxiously. "How much can you afford to pay me?" asked Dean. "We would not think of offering a player of your reputation 1 less than ten dollars if it were not desirable to make expenses small as possible, but--" "Under the circumstances,'' said Dean, interrupting him, I will be willing to come for five." "Thank you, Mr. Dunham. You are very kind,'' said 1\I r. Gunnison, warmly, grasping our hero by the hand. "I will try to make it up to you. Instead of g oing to the hotel you shall be my guest, and your expenses will be nothing. If you are ready I will take you over at once. I have a buggy at t he door." "Thank you, sir, I will accept your kind invitation." So Dean, feeling less lonesome than he did, secured his valise; and taking a scat beside his new friend, rode in the direction of Carterville. He was destined to meet an old acquaintance there. CHAPTER XII. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. Mr. Gunnis on had several children, including one boy of about Dean's age, who was disposed at first to regard our hero with distant respect as a professional star, but soon became intimate with him on finding that Dean had the same tastes aa himself. This appeared to surprise him. "I say," he remarked, "I thought you wouldn't have anythinll' to say to a fellow like me." "Why not?" asked Dean, innocently. "Oh, because you're a big gun." "How's that?" "You give concerts. and ha ve your name in the papers." "Oh!" said Dean, smiling ; .. I have to do that for a living, y o u know I'm only a boy after all." Evening came, and Dean w as called upon to play at four dif ferent points in the ent e r tai nm ent. Dea n was stimulated to do his best, as he did not wish his new friends to be disappointed. During the d ay he practiced "Home. Sweet Hom!'" with variations, partly original, partly remembered from a performance to which he had listened at a public enter tainment a year o r two previous. His efforts were crowned with success. The applause was tumultuous, and Dean was compelled to repeat his performance. He did so, but toward the cl ose he nearly broke down in con-


J 16 BRA VE AND BOLD. sequence of a surpnsmg discovery that he made. In looking around the audience, not far from the center aisle his glance chanced to fall upon a face which he had the best Cf!USC to remember It was no other than Mr. Peter Kirby, whose presence will be afterward explained. Mr. Kirby on his part was even more amazed to find the country boy whom he had left to his own resources emerging in s uch a conspicuous manner into public notice. He had thought of Dean as wandering about the country a forlorn and penniless tramp, begging for charity. How on earth he had managed to achieve the position of a musical star performer he could not imagine. "That boy is getting dangerous," thought he. "If the captain knew of his success he would feel very nervous ." Mr. Kirby was in Carterville as the guest of Dr. Sidney Thorp, a wealthy gentlema n, into whose good graces he had ingratiated hims elf at a h ote l :..Vhere they chanced to meet. He had accepted Dr. Thorp's invit at i on to spend a c ouple of days at his house, with the int ent ion of robbing his h osp i table entertainer if he should h ave the opportunity. "A remarkable young performer!" said Dr. Thorp, :as Dean closed his playing. "Y cs ," assented Kirby, absently. "How d oes he h a ppen to be here?" "Ffe had been giving an entertainment i n a town near by, i n connec tio n with a variety actor. Our committee, finding that he gave satisfaction, invited him to play here this evening." "Do you pay him anything? "Certainly, answered Dr. Thorp, with surprise. "W c couldn't expect to obtain a performer of so much talent g r atuitously." Kirby opened his eyes in surprise a t h earing his quon dam secretary spoken of i n such terms. "Do you kn ow h ow much he is to be paid?" "I beli eve he agreed to come for five dollars, considering t hat the entertai nm ent was for a charitable purpose." Kirby c_ould scarcely refrain from whistling, so great was bis surprise. He recogniz ed Dean some time before his former secretary's &"lance fell upon him. Dean's start showed that the recogniti on was mutual. "I am going to speak to this boy-Dean Dunham, said he, to Dr. Thorp, when the entertainment was at an end. "Mr. Gunni so n will introduce you Shall I a s k him?" "I ne e d no introduction. That b oy and I have met." Dean was standing on t he platform watching the departing audience, when he saw Mr. Kirby approaehing. He felt a little n ervous, not knowing what the intentions of his old employer might l)e. Kirby paused a moment, and a pe c uliar smile over s pread his countenance. "I presume you r e member me?" he said. '"\"es," answered Dean, coldly. "I am rather surprised to meet you again under such circumstances." "I am rather surprised myself-at the circumstances." "You have bec ome quite a star!" sa id Kirby, with a sneer. Dean answered gravely, "I had to make a living in some way. It was a.: accident, my trying this way." "Would you like to return to me-as my secretary?" "Thank you, Mr. Kirby, I prefer to travel independently." "Suppose I should tell why I di sch arged you? That might prove inconvenient to you." "Then I have a story to tell that might prove incon venient to you, Mr. Kirby." Dean l ooke d Kirby straight in the face, and the latter saw that he no lon ge r had an in experienced country boy to deal with, but one who might prove dangerous to his plan s "On the whole," he said, after a pause, "s uppose we both keep silence as to the past." "I will do so, unle ss I should ha v e occasion to speak." No one was near enough to liste n to this conversation. Now Dr. Thorp c a m e up, and Kirby said with an abrupt turn of the con ve r satioq, "I am glad to have met you again, my young friend. I wi s h you success." Dean bowed gravely, but didn't speak. He was not prepared to wish success to Peter Kirby knowing what he did of him. During the evening Dr. Thorp called at the house of Mr. Gun nison, but unaccompanied by his gue st. Dean had heard mean while at whose house Kirby wa s s taying, and he felt that he ought to drop a hint that would put the un s uspecting host on his guard. He finally decided that it was his dtttY to do so. May I spea k with you a moment in pri v ate, Dr. Thorp?" he asked, as the guest rose to g o "Certainl y," answered the d o ctor, in some surprise. Dean accompanied him into the hall. "Do you know mu c h of the gen t leman who is staying at y0ur. hou se?" a s ked Dean. "No; why do you a sk?" "Because I have rea so n to think t.hat he is a profess ional thief." "Good heavens l What do you m ean?" Dean briefly related to the doctor hi s suspicions. "Thank you, Mr. Dunham," said Dr. Thorp, warmly. "You h ave done me a g r eat serv ice. I happen to have a considerable sum in money and bonds at my hou se I s hall look out for Mr. Kirby," he added, with a grim nod. CHAPTER XIII. I DR. TBOltP'S CABINltT. Dr. Thorp had been plc:is cd with Peter Kirby, who had laid himself out to be agreeabre, and the doctor was far from. sus pecting his real character. When this was revealed to him by Dean, he quickly decided to test it for him s elf. Some men, inclined to b" nervous and timid, would have had their apprehensions excited, and dreaded an encounter with a professional crimiilfl.I. But Dr. Thorp was cool, re s olute and de termined. He propo s ed to facilitate Kirby's designs, and c:itch h im in a trap. \ Vhen h e reache d h ome he found Kirby s moking on the piazza. "Have you been taking a walk doctor?" he asked. "Yes," an swered Dr. Thorp. "I made a call on a neighbor. I h ope you have n ot been l o n eso me." "Oh, no l Your daughter has enabled me to pass the time pleasantly. But I am glad to see you back." Had Kirby kn o wn that Dr. Tho rp had had an interview wit& Dean Dunham, his an x iety would h ave been "By the way, d octo r," said Kirby, with awarent carelessnes!, "I have a little money to invest. Can you recommend any form of inYestm ent ?" "You might buy a hou se in the village and settle down. I 0e lieve the next estate is for sa le "It would certainly be an inducem ent to become your neighbor," said Kirby, politely; "but I am a rolling stone. I am always traveling. I couldn't content myself in any one place, not even in a large city."


RA VE AND BOLD. "I suspect your mode of life makes frequent removals neces sary," thought Dr. T horp, though he did not say so. "\.V ell, if you don't ca r e to invest in real est ate he said, a moment later, "you might purchase government bonds or railroad securities." "To which do you give the preference?" asked Kirby. The doctor smiled inwardly. He saw that Kirby was trying to a scertai n whether he had a,ny negotiable securities in his posses sion, but he was r eady to play into his hands. "Well," he said, "I think well of b oth ." "I had some government bonds at one time," said Kirby, "but they were stolen. That has made me cautious." Perhap s you were careless." doubt I was. I k/"" t them in a trunk at my boarding house. I presume you wouldn t ve nture, even in a quiet village lik e this, to keep bonds in your h ouse?" "Oh yes, we n ever receive visits from thieves or I don't consider trunks so sa fe as-that cabinet." He pointed to a black walnut cabinet with several drawers standing in one corner of the ro om. Kirby's face lighted up. He had g ot the information he de sired, but he resumed his indifferent manner. I think you are right," he said. "Besi des, in a town like Carterville, as you Say, thie ves are hardly likely to be found." "Oh, dear, no!" said Dr. Thorp, yawning. "I have no occasion to borrow trouble o n that score." "Living as I generally do in large cities, where memb e r s of the criminal class abound," said Kirby, I am naturally more suspicious than you. I confess I wish I Jived in a pl ace of Arcadian innocence like thi s." Dr. Thorp smiled. He was amused to hear one whom h e be lieved t o be a professional thief disco;irse in thi s manner. "You mi ght find it dull ," he sa id a little satirically. "It would lack the spice and excitement of wickedness." At a little a fter eleven Kirby signified that he was tired ans! was conducted to his bedchamber. Dr. Thorp remained behind, :md opening the lower drawer of his cabinet removed therefrom a r oll of bank bills and a five-hundred-dollar government bond. "I think these will be safe in my trunk to-night," he said, to himself. "Now, )./fr. Kirby, you C

I 18 BRAVE AND BOLD "I WU.a utu. J.01 you. "I owe you another debt, Dean Dunham!" said Kirby, as he left the ho Uic with the pleasant prospect of a slceplesa niiht. CHAPTER XIV. T 1'l E L 0 N'E LY CABIN. Dean had left the breakfast table the ne.'i:t m o rning, and was comidering what would be the next s(t hi5 with my best wishes." It was an Elgin gold watch of r1cat pattern which t.e offered to Dean. "It i& not quite new," proceeded the doctor. "I bought it of a young man in need of money, and having paid him its full value I have no scruple in giving it away." "Thank you very much," said Dean, his face showing the satis faction he felt. "I h:tvc felt the neM. of a watch ever since I b egan to travel, but never dreamed of anything better than a silver one. I shall be very proud of this one." "And I am very glad to iivc it to you. In what direction do you propose to ioumey?" "Westward, sir. I haven't any very clear ideas further than 'that." "Shall you go as far as Colorado?" "Yes, sir; I think so." "l have a nephew out there somewh Thorp-a :roung man of tw e nty -five. He is probably mining, but I don't know his location. Should you run acros s him, ask him to com municate with ll]C. H i s aunt and myself will be glad to hear from him." "I will not forg e t it sir," said D ea n, though he thought it 111uite improb a ble that he and the nephew referred to would ever meet. Dr. Thorp took his leare, and D ean soo n after took lea\e of t.he Gunnison family. A week later found Dean only a hundred miles farther on his way. He might have accomplished this distance on the cars in a few hours, but be preferred to make a leisurely trip, looking out for a chance to earn money on the way. But after a season o{ prosperity a dull time had come to him. During the week he did not make a single dollar. He encountered several fair-sized towns, but did not feel able to give an entire entertainment him self His s t o ck of m o ney dwind1ed, antl he began to f e el anxio us. Toward nightfall he found himself apparently at a distance from any town, and beg a n to feel some s o licitude as to where he could pass the night. It ,yas a m o untain region, and the day seemed to be shorter than on the plain s the air was cl r illy, and Dean felt that it would be dangerous to spend the night out of doors. In this em e rgency he was plea s ed to de scry a rough cabin a hundre d feet fr o m the road. "The re i s shelter, at any rate, if th e y will take me in," thought Dean. "I will take care not to wander into such a wild region again." He went up to the door, and knocked with his bare knuckles. He heard a shuffling uoisc inside, and an old woman, with g"ray hair, unconfined and hanging loose like a horse's mane, faced him. "Who are you?" she inquired, abruptly. "A traveler," answered Dean. "What do y ou want?" "I have lost my way. Can you let m e s tay here all night?" "This isn't a tavern," she responded, in a surly tone. "I suppose not, but I arh willing to pay for supper and a lodging. I don't see any other hou s es near by, or I would not trouble you." The old woman eyed him with a curious scrutiny which made him vaguely uncomfortable, so weird and uncanny was her look. "Hav e you got any money?" she asked, at last. "A little," answered Dean, growing suddenly cautious. you can come in,'' she said, after a pause. Dean entered, and cast a glance about him. The cabin was certainly a primitive one_ What furniture it con t ained seemed home made, put together awkwardly with such material as came to hand. In place of chairs were two boxes, such as arc used to contain shoes, piaced bottom up. There was a small stove, the heat of which seemed grateful to the chilly young traveler. "It is cold," remarked Dean, by way of opening the connna tion. "Humph l" answered t he woman. "Have you come all the way to tell me that?" "Evidently the old woman isn't sociable," thought Dean. "Where do you live when you're to home?" asked the woman, after a pause "In New York State." "\Vhat did you come out here for?" "I had tny living to make," answered Dean, feeling uncom fortable. "I haven't found any, and I've lived here goin' on ten years. I suppo s e you want some supper,'' she continued, ungraciously. "Yes, I am very hungry. I am sorry to put you to any trouble." The woman did not answer, but going to a rude pantry took out a plate of me a t, and some dry bread. The former she put in the oyen, and proceeded to brew some t ea. Dean watched her preparations with cag er interest. It seemed to him that he had never been so hungry. He had probably walked ten miles o ver a rough path, and the exerci s e had tired him a s much as twice the distance on the plain. Besides, he


.tl.KA V ANIJ .tlOLD 19 had his vaTisc with him, and had found' it decidedly an incum brance. From time to time the old woman paused in her preparations and eyed him searchingly. What it was that attracted h e r atten tl,on Dean could not guess till she sud denly po inte d to his chain, and asked, "h there a watc h at the end of that?" "Yes," answe re d Dean, with a sudden feeling of apprehension. "Let m e look at it." Reluct a ntly h e drew out the watch. a nd i nto the woman's eyes .crept a covetous gleam, as she a dv a nced and took it in her hand. "It's pretty ," she said. "What's it worth?" "I don t kno w," answered Dean. I didn't buy it. It was a presen t t o me ." "It ought to be w orth a good sum." "I value it. because it was given me by a fri en d," said Dean, hurriedly. She releas e d her hold up on the watch, and Dean put it back in his pocket, rather relieved to. have recovered possession of it again Five minutes lat e r the meal was ready, such as it was. "Set up ," s aid the woman. D ea n obeyed with a lacrity. He tasted the m e at. It was not unple asant, but the taste was peculiar. "What kind of meat is it?" he asked. "B'ar meat." "Are there bears in these mount a ins?" "Yes; my son killed this one. He's killed many a b'ar, Dan has. He's a master hand with the rifle. There's none that can beat him ." "Isn't it dangerous te tackle a bear?" "No; the b'ars a nat'rally timorous animal. I've killed morc'n one myself." As Dean surveyed his hostess, he thought her quite capable of encountering a bear. Her walk and air were masculine, and there seemed nolhing feminine about her. CHAPTER XV. DAN. When Dean arose from the table he had made away with a large share of the repast provided. It had grown quite dark in the deepening shadows of the hills, but it was a twilight darkness, not the darkness of midnight. "I think I will go out and take a walk," said Dean, turning to his hostess. "You'll come back?" she asked, with apparent anxiety. "Yes, for I don't want to sleep out of doors. I can settle for my supper now if you wish "No, you can wait till morning." "Very well I" Dean left the house, and walked some distance over the moun tain road. Finally being a little fatigued from his d ay' s travel and the hearty supper he had eaten, be lay down under a tree, and enjoyed the luxury of rest on a full stomach. In the stillness of the woods it was possible to hear even a sound ordinarily indistinct. Gradually Dean became sensible of a peculiar noise which seemed like the distant murmur of voices. He looked about him in all directions, but failed to understand from where the voices proceeded. It seemed almost as if the sounds came from below. Y ct this seemed absurd. "There can't be any mine about here,'' reflected Dean. "If there were, I could understand a little better about the sounds." Certainly, it was not a very likely place for a mine. "I wonder i f I am dreaming ," thou ght Dean. He rubbed his eyes, satisfied himself that he Vl'aS as much awak e as he ever was in his life H e got up and walked aro und l ook ing inqu is itively ali,ot him, in the hope of loc aliz ing the sound. Suddenly it sto pped, and all was complete silellce Then he was quite at a loss. "I don t know w hat it m eans. I may as well J i e down and rest again. I imagine my landlady won' t care about seeing me before it is time to go to bed." Wi t h this thought Dean dismis sed his conjectures, and gave himself up to a pleasant reveri e He didn't worry, though his pro s pect s were not of the be st. He was nearly out of money, and there appeared no immediate pro s p e ct of ear ning more. Where he was he did not know, except that he was somewhere among the mountains of Colorado. "I wish I could come across some mining settlement," thought D ean. "I couldn t buy a claim, but I could perhaps hire out to som e miner, and after a while get rich enough to own one my self." Suddenly his reflections were broken in upon by a discordant VO!Ce. "Who arc you, youngster, and where did you drop from?" Looking up quickly, Dean 's glance fell upon a rough-lo

J 20 .BRA. VE AND BOLD. "How do you know my name?" "Your mother told me you killed the bear whose meat I ate for supper." ''That' correct, youngster. I killd hi but it's r.othinii to kill a l;>'ar. I've killed hundre ds of 'em." "I should be proud if I could say I had killed o ne," said Dean, his sparkling'" with excitement. "If you stay 'round here long enough, you may have a chance. But l'tn goin' home. It's growin' dark and you may as well go with me." Dean arose f;om his recumbent positi on and drew his watch from his pocket. "Yes," he said, "it's past eight o'clock." "Let me look at that watch. Is it gold?" a ske d his com and his eyes showed the same covetous gleam which Dean had nqticed in the mother. "I wi s h I had hidden the wat ch in an inside pocJ,;et," he thought, too l a te. "I am afraid it will be taken from me before I get away from these mountains." "What might it be worth?" demanded the other, after fingering it curiously with his clum sy hands. "I don't know," answered Dean, guard.:dlv. "I did not buy it. It we.s given to me." "Is it worth a hundred dollars?" "I don't think it is. It may be w ort h fifty." "Humph l arc you rich?" "No; far from itl I am a poor boy." "That doesn1t look like it." "Tbe watch was given to me by a ri ch man to whom I had done a service." The man handed it back, but it seemed with reluctance. "Youngster, what do.. you think of my mother?" he asked, abruptly. "She treated me kindly," answered Dean, rather embarrassed. "Did you agree to pay her for your lodging?" "Yes." "I thought so. Mother ain't one of the soft kind. Did 'he a trike you as an agreeable old lady?" "I only saw her for a few minutes," said Dean, evasively. His companion laughed, and surveyed Dean quizzically. "You must stretch your legs, youngster, or mothcr'll get tired waiting for me. She might take a notion not to Eive me any 1uppcr." It wa.. not long before they came in sight of the cabin. Herc a surprise, and by no means an :tgrccable one, awaited Dean. On a bench in front of the cabin sat a man whom he had iOOd reuoa to remember, and equal reason to fear-Peter Kirby. CHAPTER XVI. AsnoULD OLD ACQUAINTANCE l!E FORGOT?'' If Dean was surprised to see his old enemy in such an out ef the way place, Kirby was no less surprised to see his fonner traveling companion. There was this difference: the encounter brought him pleasure, while to Dean it carried dismay. Neither could understand where on earth the other hoy, and sit down," said Kirby, smiling, and eying Dean very much as a cat eyes the mouse whom she proposes soon to devour. "You must be tired." "Thank you," said Dean, calmly, u he went forward and seated himself on the settee beside Peter Kirby. "\II/hat brought you so far west as Colorado?'" proceeded Kirby, giving vent to his curiosity. "I kep't coming west. Besides, I heard there were mine& in Colorado, and I thought I might find profitable work.,. "So you gave up playing on that harmonica of yours?" "Yes." "Couldn't you make it pay?" "I needed a partner like the one I started with-Mr. Montgomery. I couldn't give an entertainment alone." "Then you haven't been making any mOJley latecyl,. "No." "Where did you get that watch?" "From Dr. Thorp." "When did he give it to you?" "Just before I left town," "It was a present to :you for informing on me, I suppose?" said Kirby, his f;i.ce again assuming an ugly frown. "I believe it was for saving him from being robbed." "Then he had considerable money and bonds in the house?" "Yes."


BR.A YE AND :SOLD. 21 "Were they in the cabinet?" "He removed them." "After I went to bed?" "I believe so." "It SO!'ems, that I am indebted to you for foiling my little scheme." Kirby looked dangerous, and Dean was alive to the peril incurred, but he wa s obliged, in the interests of truth, to answer in the affirmative. Here Dan appeared at the door. "Come in, Kirby," he said. "Supper's ready "I am ready for it I am about famished. Come in, boy." "Thank you; I have supped already." "All the same you must come in, for I don't propose to lose sight of you. Hand over that watch, please." "\Vhy do you want it?" asked Dean, apprehensively. "I have more claim to it than you. It was the price of treachery." "I hope, Mr. Kirby, you will let me keep it." "Hand it over without any m o re words!" said Kirby, roughly, "unless you want me to take it from you." It would have been idle to resist, but Dean was not willing to hand it over, since that would have indicated his consent to the! surrender. "You can take it if you choose," he said. "It will do after supper. Come in!" Dean preceded Kirby into the cabin, and sat down on a s too l while the two men were eating. Gradually they dropped into conversation, and Dean listened with curious intere st. "So you saw the captain, Kirby?" asked Dan. "Yes." "Where?" "He lives in an obscure country place, buried alive, as I call it. It is for the sake of his family, he says." "\\'hat family has be?" "A wife and son-the last as like his father as two peas-the same ugly tusks, and long, oval face. Between the two I prefer the captain. The boy puts on no end of airs." "Does he know--" "Not a word. He thinks his father a g!!.ntleman of wealth and high birth, and holds his head high, I can tell you." "Does that boy know h im?" asked Dan, with a i erk of the head toward Dean. "You know Brandon Bates, don' t you, Dean?'' aaid Kirby. "Yes, sir." "Do you like him?" "I don't think any one in the village likes him." "How about his father? Is he popular?" "He is better liked than his son." "The fact is," resumed Kirby, "the captain s boy is an impudent cub. He was in solen t to me I could have tweaked hi5 nose with pleasure." "There to be one point on which I\fr. Kirby q.nd I agree," thought Dean. But t1po11 the whole it did pot seem to him that he liked Kirby any better than Brandon Bates. Brandon had unpleasant manners, but it was clear that Kirby was a professional thief. "When is the captain coming \Vest?" asked Dan. "S.oon, I think. He may l.>e needed for some work in Denver. I shall make a report to him when I have gathered the information we nee d and urge him to come. He has brains, the captain bas, and he must give us the advantage of them." ".What plan ire you thinkin' of, I<;:irby "Hu!>h 1" S'l,id Kirby, glancing toward Dean. "I wm speak you abQut that later.'.' After supper they went ou. t again, <1nd sat on the settee, bQt!t smoking pipes providec! by Dan. Dean was invited to come out also, but he felt very much fatigued, :md asked if he miii-ht to bed ".Mother," Sjiid_ Dan, "can the kid go up to bed?" "Yes, if he wants to." "I'll go up with him. Dan led the way up a narrow staircase to the second fl.oar. There were two rooms, each with a sloping roof. On the floor was spread a sacking filled with hay, one end raised above the general "You can slc:ep the re, youngster," said Dan. "There's no use in undressin'. Lay down s you are. Dean was quite ready to do so. Tpough he wa s apprehensive about the future, fatigue asseFted its claim, and in less than {!ve minutes he w as sound a sleep. CHAPTER XVII. DEAN FINDS HIMSKLF IN A HOLL D"ean seemed to himself to have slept not more than an hon r though in reality several hours passed, when he was aroused by being shaken not over g e ntly. "Time to get up?" he asked, drowsily. "Yes, it's time to get up," answered a rough voice. Now he opened h,is eyes wide, and he saw Kirby looking cown on him. At a flash all came back to him and he realized hi3 position. He ros e from his pallet and asked, "Can I wash my fac e a n d hands?" "No; there is no time for it. Follow me I" Rightly concluding that it would be useless to que stio n Kirby, Dean followed him to the lower floor, where Dan had already seated himself at the breakfast table. Jn alredience to a signal Dean sat down also, and ate with what appetite he could the repast spread before him. In addition to cold pleat and bread there was what passed for coffee, though it probably was not even di tantly related to the fragrant beverage which we know by that name. Dean drank it, however, not withou t relish, for it w as at l east hot. Fifteen minutes sufficed for breakfast, a n d then Dan and Kirby left the cabi n, m oti oning t o Dea n t o follow. Outside the c abin Kirby sa id "Have yo u a hand k e r c hief ?" "Ye s," a n swered Dean, wo ndering w hy 1 u ch a quest i on should b e asked. "Gi v e i t to me l" Dean mechanically obeyed. Kirby took it, and, folding it, tied it over Dean's eyes. "Are we going to play blind man's buff?" asked Dean. "Yes," answered Kirby, grimly, "and you are the blin d man." "I should like to know what you have done this fo:," said Dean, more seriously. "I can't answer your question, bnt no harm will come t o yo i f you keep quiet. You are going to take a walk with us." "And you don't want me to know where you are taking m e. "You've hit it right the first time, youngster,'' said Dan. "I suppose it's no use to resist,'' said Dean, firmly; "but I must say that you have no right to take away my freedom." "You can say it if you want to, but it won't mak e an y d iJfuence." ''W'hat are you going to dQ with me ?04 "You'll know in time."


22 BRA VE AND BOLD. Dan and Kirby ranged themselves one on each s:ide of Dean, and he was walked off between them. He asked one or two questions, but was admonished to keep silence. So they walked for twenty minutes, or perhaps half an hour, when Dan left his s ide, and Dean was compelled to halt in the custody of Kirby. "It's all ready!" said Dan, reappearing. Again he took Dean by the arm, and tl!ey walked furward perhaps a dozen paces. Then Kirby said, "Here are some steps." Dean found himself descending a flight of steps-ten in num ber, for he took the trouble to count them. He was getting more and more mystified, and would have given a good deal to remove the handkerchief that bandaged his eyes, but it was impossible to do it even surreptitiously, for both arms were pinioned by his guides. At the end of the flight of steps they came again to level ground, and walked forward perhaps a hundred feet. Dean sus pected from the earthy odor that they were under the ground. He soon learned that his supposition was correct, for bis guides halted, and loosened their hold upon his arms. "You can remove the handkerchief now," said Kirby. Dean lost no t ime in availing himself of this permission. He looked around him eagerly. He found himself in what appeared to be not a natural, but an artificial cave-dark, save for the light of a kerosene lamp, which was placed on a little rocky shelf, and diffused a sickly light about the cellar. At the end of the room there was a pas sage le ading, as it seemed, to some inner apartment. Dean looked about in "What place is this 'i"' he asked. "You may call it a cave if you like." "How long are you going to stay here?" "About five minutes." "That will be enough for me," said Dean, shrugging his shoulders. "Hardly. You are to stay l onger." "Are you going to leave me here---under the earth?" asked Dean, in alarm. "Don't you be scared, youngster-you will be safe. You won't be alone. Herc, Pompey." Through the inner passage came a stunted negro, with a pre ternaturally large head, around which was pinned a cotton cloth in the shape of a turban. He bowed obsequiously, and eyed Dean with evident curiosity mingled with surprise. "This boy has come to visit you, Pompey," said Kirby, with grim pleasantry. "Yah, yah, massa !" chuckled Pompey, showing the whites of bis eyes. "You must take good care of him. Give him something to cat :when he is hungry, but don't let him escape." "Y ah, massa l" "He will ask you questions, but you must be careful what you tell him. Remember, he is not one of us, and he mustn't learn too much." "Yah, ma11a I I understand. What'1 his name?" "Dean." "Dat'a a funny name. I never heard the llko." "Yes, you have. Dan's like it." "So it am, massa I Dat's a fac'." "Now, youngster, I am going to leave you in the company of Pompey here, who will do hia but to make you comfortable and happy." "When are )'OU coming baclt for me'!" asked Dean, appro"Well. tkat depends upon circumstances. You'd better not trouble ;JOW"Mlf about that. Perhapa m a week, perhap1 i.u a month. In the meantime you will have free board, and won't have to work for a living. There arc a good many who would like to change places with you." "If you meet any such, send them along," said Dean, with a jocoseness that thinly veiled a feeling bordering upon despair. "Ha, ha! That's a good one. Dan, our young friend is be coming a practical joker. That's right, young one. Keep up good courage. I must bid you good-by now. Come along, Dan." The two turned away, and Dean, with despairing eyes, saw them going back to freed o m and the light of day, while he was left in the company oi an ignorant black in a subterranean dungeon. 'Law, honey, don t take on!" said Pompey, good-naturedly. "There ain't no harm comin' to you." "I should think harm had come to me. Here am I shut up in this black hole!" 'Taint so bad, honey, when you're used to it. I didn't like it first myself." "How long have you lived down here?" "I can't justly say." "Is it a year, or a month?" "I can't say, young massa," answered Pompey, who was evi dently bent on carrying out Kirby's admonitions not to tell too much to his young guest. "When did you come hyah ?" asked Pompey, thinking it only fair that he should ask a question, "Into this neighborhood? I only came yesterday." "And where did you meet Massa Kirby?" "At the cabin of the other man-Dan .. But I had seen him before. I met him first at the East, in New York State." "In York State I" repeated Pompey. "Yes. We traveled together l:or a while." Pompey nodded his head slowly, but evidently he had no ve-ry clear idea of what it all meant. "Are you hungry, young massa ?" he asked, after a pause. "No; I have had my breakfast.'' "I must go to work," said the negro, turning to go back by the narrow passage from which he had emerged. "May I go with you?" "Yes, young massa, if you want to." Anything was better than being left alone in the dark, cavern ous room, and Dean followed the negro, who was so short that he could readily look over his head, till at the end of the passage he emerged into another apartment, which was fitted up as a: kitchen, and contained a stove. From the stove arose an upright funnel, which pierced the roof, providing a vent for the smoke when there was a fire, and allowing air to come in from above. It flashed upon Dean that it was through this funnel had come the mysterious sounds which puzzled him so much when he was reclining in the wood. CHAPTER XVIII. THE VALUE OF A HARMONICA. About the middle of the forenoon Pompey curled up on a pallet in one corner of the room, and went to sleep. There was nothing in particular to do, and it seemed rather a sensible way of spending the time. Dean, however, felt too anxious to follow his example. It occurred to him that it would be a good time for him to gratify his curiosity by examining the cavern in which he was immured, and devise, if possible, some method of escape. First he went up close to Pompey, and examined him carefully to see whether he was really asleep, or only shamming. But the negro's deep breathing soon satisfied him that there was no sham about ha 1lumber. So Dean felt at liberty to hia exploration.


BRA VE AND BOLD, He went back to the entrn nce, which he knew by the staircase he had descended with Kirby and Dan. He mounted to the top, afid found his way barred by a trai;idoor, which he tried, but unsuccessfully, to rai se. It appeared to be secu red by a lock, abd, not having the key, there 'was no 'hope of escape. '!le gaz ed ruefully at this door, which shut him out fronJ liber ty. "I wonder if ther e is any other way out of the c;:ive," he asked himself. It didn't seem but it was, oi course, possible. and wonh while to i 1westigate. ]f there were it v;ould !Jc at the other end, no doubt. He retraced his s1eps, and found Pompey still fast asleep, anJ utterly unconscious of the movements of th e prisoner under his charge. Dean took a lamp and went farther into the cave. There seemed to be a series of excav ations, connected by narrow pass ages. In one of these was a large box, constructed like a sailor's chest. It occurred to him that it might belong to Pompey, and be used by him to contain his clothing. But a little thought suggested that the negro was not likely to have a large st oc k of clothes. Probably the suit he had on was about all he poss ess ed. What, then, did the chest contain? At each end was a handle. Dean took h old of one and tried to lift the chest. But he found it very heavy, rnt ich heavier than it would have been had it con t ai1led clothing. He arose to his feet and eyed i t. with curiosity. There was nothing elaborate about the lock, and it struck Dean that a key which he had in his pocket might possibly unlock it. Upon the impulse of the mom ent he kne eled down and in serted it in t he lock. Very much to his surprise, and, indeed, it did seem an extraor dinary chance, fo r it was the only key he h ad it proved to fit the lock. He turned it, and rai se d the lid. The sight dazzled him. Before him lay pil es of gold and s ilver coins, and a p ackage of bank bills. This ca\e was evidently the storehouse of an o r ganized band of robbers, and the chest might be consid ered their treasury. "I wonder if this is real," thought Dean. "It seems like a sc;ene in the 'Arabian Nights.'" It did, indeed, seem strange that this far-off nook of Colorado should be the rendezvous and treasure house of a band s6 widely scattered that the captai n was a quiet citizen of a small town in the State of New York, nearly two thousand miles away. How i mprobable it would h ave seemed to the citizens of Waterford, among whom Squire Bat es : 10\'ed, living in outw ard seemi n g the life of any other respectab le and law -abiding citizen! This was the Waterford mystery, which by a series of remarkable adventures it had fallen to D ea n to solve. He locked the chest, fearing that Pompey might suddenly awake, and, following, disc over what he was about. He wanted some time to think over this strange discovery, and consider what to do. To be sure, there seemed little chance of his doing any thing except to remain where he was, a subterranean prtsoher. Dean felt more than ever a desire to leave the cave, but the prospect was 11ot encouraging. \Vhy he was kept a prisoner he could guess. He knew too much of the band, and especially of their leader, and he wa considered dangerous. His imprisonment might be a prolonged one, and Denn fe]( that this would b e intolerable. It was in a very sober frame that he returned to the r oom where Pompey was still sleeping. An h ou r later the ncgro awoke and stretched himself. "Have I been asleep l on g, young massa?" he asked. "Two or three hours, I should think, Pompey." "Dat's stran g e l I only just dosed my tyes for a minute, and I done forgot my self. "You might as well go to sleep. There's nothin g else to do." "I mu st .get some dinne r honey. Don't you feel hungry?" ''I might eat some.thing," said Dean, Iis tles siy. Pompey bustled around, and prepared a lun ah, to which Dean, homesick as h e w as, did not fail to do justice. It takes a great deal to spoil the appetite of a growing b oy. After the no on repast Dean sat down. He was beginning to find the monotony intolerable. By way of beguiling the time he took out his harmonica in an absent nlood and beg-an to play "Old Folks at Home." Jnstai1tly Pompey was 011 the alert. His eyes brightened, and he fixed them in rapture up o n the young player. "\Vhat's u'll let m e out of cave." Pompey r olle d his eyes in affright. "Couldn't do it no how, young massa," he !laid. "Massa Klrb;, would kill me." "He'd think I g o t away when you were aaltep, Pompey. Come, I 'll show you two or three more tunH on the and yo u can learn others -yourself." "I don't dare to, young massa," said Pompey, but thete wat a suspicion of indeci!lion in his voice. "Very well, then, give me back tfie harmonica. I will 11ent play any more upon it." "Oh, young massa l" "I m ean what a say, Pompey''-and Dean put the harmonica iit hi s pocket. Pompey eyed him with a trol1bled l ook. He was evidcrttly weighing the matter in .his tnind. "If I thought Mass a Kirby wouldn t kill me," he said, M:.J flectively. Dean upon this redoubled his persuasions. He played another tune on the harmonica-"Sweet Homt"-with variations, and thia completed the conquest of his sable custodia n ''I'll do it, young massa," said Pompey, hoarsely. "Give me th. harmonicum, and I'll take the risk."


BRA VE AND BOLD . Dean did not want to give him time for reflection. He seized his hat, and handed Pompey the instrument. The negro guided him, not to the front entrance, which he already knew, but to a back exit which he had overlooked. Here there was a door skillfully concealed on the outside. Pompey drew out a key, opened it, and with infinite relief Dean again saw sunshine and breathed the air of freedom. "Good-by, Pompey I" he said. '.' l thank you with all my heart." "If Massa Kirby cotch you, don't you tell him I let you go," said Pompey, hoarsely. "No, I won't, Pompey, but I don't mean to let him catch me." The door closed behind him, and. Dean paused to consider what course to take. He must at all hazards avoid falling in with Kirby and Dan. "That harmonica is worth its w eight in gold!" thought Dean, IP"atefull,y. "It is a regular talisman." CHAPTER XIX. TWO NEW ACQUAINTANCES. Dean had no particular choice as to the direction he would take. His principal desire was to get out of the neighborhood, so as to avoid meeting Kirby or Dan, as this would insure a second term of imprisonment, from which he could not hope to escape so easily He had a general idea of the location of the cabin in which he h a d pa s s e d the previous night, and he shaped his .course as far away from it as possible. He looked at his watch, which Kirby 1had neglected to take, and found that it was between four and five in the afternoon. He did not know bow far the wooded district extended, but hoped soon to emerge from it. It might have been that he was bewildered, but the farther he traveled the more he seemed to be surrounded by trees, More' over, the shades were deepening, and soon the night would settle about him. "I wish I had a compass," thought Dean. "That would help me find my way out of this labyrinth.'' He had met no one as yet, and this was upon the whole a relief, as the persons most likely to be encountered were Kirby and Dan. But at length a souri'd of voices fell upon his ear, and he stayed his steps in momentary alarm. He listened intently, but was reassured when he found that the voices were unfamiliar. "It may be some one who can show me the way out of these woods," thought. Dean. "At any rate, I don 't believe they will harm a boy. I will try to fihd them." Guided by the voices he directed his steps in the direction of the sound, and found himself at Length in an open space. Under a tree reclined two stalwart men who, from their garb, appeared to be miners. They were lying in an easy position, and both were smoking pipes. "Good-afternoon, gentlemen," said Dean, politely. ,The two men looked up in surprise. "Why, it's a kid!" ejaculated one. "How came you here, boy?" "I'll tell you, if you don't mind my joining you," said Dean. "Come and welcome I It's rather refreshing to see a young chap like you. I've got a boy at home who is y;ithin a year or two a.s old as you." "I am sixteen." "So I thought. My boy is fourteen. What is your name?" "Dean Dunham. I come from Waterford, New York." "Then you are from my State. I am from Syracuse. My name is Raw&OD.-Ben Rawson. My friend here is Ebenezer Jones, commonly called Eben, a Connecticut Yankee-Eben, shake with our young fri end." "I am glad to meet you, Mr. Jones," said Dean, extending his hand, with a smile. "You must look out for Eben," said Rawson, jocosely. "Them Connecticut Yankees are as sharp as they make 'em." "I will risk it," said Dean. "I am very glad to meet you both, for I was beginning to feel that I was lost." "Eben and I are too good mountaineers to be easily lost. How long have you been in these woods?" "Since yesterday noon." "Did you sleep out?" "No,, I found a cabin where I lodged." "You were in luck." "In bad luck." "How is that?" asked Rawson, m surprise. "Were you robbed?" "No, but I found myself in the company of two men who I am pretty sure belong to a gang of robbers. One of them I had seen before-at the East. They blindfolded me, and took me to a cavern, where tl1ey left me in charge of a m:gro named Pompey." "What could be their object?" asked Rawson. "You are sure you're not romancing, boy?" "I wish I were, but the cave exists, just as certaiflly as I do." "But of what use is it?" "I think it is a hiding place for their booty," answered Dean, and he gave an account of the chest which he had opened, and e nature of its contents. "v\:hy didn't you take a handful of the gold?" asked Rawson. "At the time I didn't know but I should have to remain in the cave, when, of course, it would be discovered on me. Besides, though I knew it to be stolen property, I didn't feel like taking it." and I wouldn't be so particular. Whereabouts is this cave?" "I think it must be three or four miles away, but I may be mistaken, for I got turned around, and may have doubled on my tracks. I have been afraid I might fall in with Kirby and Dan. When I heard your voices I thought at first it might be them.'' "You're safe now, lad. We would be more than a match fo'r them, eveJ1 if they did turn up. I shouldn't mind giving them a lesson. But you haven't told us what brought you out here, lad." "I t)lought I might make a better living than at home." "And have you?" "So far I have, but my prospects don't appear to bo1very bright just now." "Don't be too sure of that. Suppose you join us." "I shall be glad to do so, if you will let me." "Then we'll shake hands to our better acquaintance. I'd offer you a pipe if I had an extra one." "Thank you ; I don't smoke." "Well, lad, perhaps you're right. Smoking won't do any good to a boy like you." "If I am to join you would you mind telling me your plans?" "Of course I will. We're miners, as you might guess from our looks. We've been up in Gilpin County, and have done pretty wcl1. We've got some claims there yet, but we wanted a little change and have been on a little prospecting tour." "Have you had good luck?" "In prospecting? No! We are on our way back, and shall settle down to work again all the better for our holiday." "How long have you been out here?" asked Dean.


'T?" met tartJ it, "Rigw_< "Ebei11 he has TP "And "Neve me Ben." "But ye "vVe're get back to. I sa) have som "I am "You mis set you up in do you say, equal partners, "It's just as yot: guided in all things "You arc very gen accept such a gift. Ii it, and thank you." "No, lad,'' persbted I said." '"But I ought not to be others to look out for." "You won't be, lad-Eb1 down in one of the banks dollars apiece, isn't it, Eben i "Yes, not far from that, R "W c will share alike for There's mqre gold where the claims will pan out well for yot Dean felt that he had inde1 might have traveled far enoug strangers so free-handed. lndee at home, he would scarcely ha> wild, free life of the west had them generous. "Hist!" said Rawson, suddenly, an intent look, "I think I hear voir He was right. Two men, walki in earnest conversation, approachec Dean in excitement. "Eben and I will hide and l e ave Rawson, rising hastily. "But--" expostulated Dean, "Don't be afeared, lad. They want a little fun, that's all. We The two darted behind a tree turf. Kirby and Dan approached, versation. They were close 1 him. It is needless to say "Look there, Dan I" said Kir "There's the kid!" "Well, I'm beat!" ejaculated I.


ner in onr mt to call, 1ers make unwilling t's quickly hope I shall never 'l'.'C find .en Rawson, Ebenezer Jones rown taller and there is a His eyes are bright, and his cabin, resting after asked Eben Jcnes, : n, this afternoon, since you have little over three thousand What do you say to who are worth a thou-Ben-yours and Eben's." You have worked hard for it." and yet you admit me to an equal said Rawson, warmly. "Isn't The kid's bee:o a great deal got ten thousand dollars be-1less the bank's busted, ''"hich I .d chap, I feel rich/' e," said Eben, after .a thoughtful


/ BRA VE AND BOLD. 27J "I should mind so much, Eben, that I should probably go along, too." "But that would be leaving Dean alone," objected Eben. "Perhaps he would like to make a trip East, also." "Yes, i' would," said Dean. "It's a long time since I've heard from my uncle and aunt. I think my last letter couldn't have reached them." "There's one thing in the way," observed Rawson. "Our claims are valuable-more so than six months ago. If we leave 'em some one will take possession, and that'll be an. end of our ownership." "Sell 'em," said Eben, concisely. "That will take time." "I'll stay till it's done. I'm not going to give 'em away." "Trust a Connecticut Yankee for that," said Rawson, laughing. "Well, to-morrow, then, we'll Jet our neighbors know that our claims are for sale." Dean anrt "We've done well, though," said Rawson, complacently. "It's two thousand apiece, say three, with what we've taken from it in the last six months. What do you say to that, lad? You'll go h'ome with three thousand dollars." "It doesn't seem possible, Be Why, Uncle has been at work for forty and I don't believe the old place would fetch thll.t." ''Money's easier to come at than in the old timea. You'll astonish the old folks, lad." "There'll be some otbfrs that'll' be eurpriacd," aaid Dean, 1mil ing. "Squire Bates and Brandon among the rest" "It's better than going home like a tramp. Ifs strange l}ow much more people think of you when you're worth a little prop erty. And I don t know but they're right. To get money, 1i mean honestly, a man must have some brains, and he must be willing to work. How much money do you think I had when I arrived here?" "I don't know." "Eighteen dolla;s. It was grit or brains with me, I ca: tell Eben here wasn't much better off." s o well. I only had nine dollars." we've got eight thousand apiece. That'll make ti.I r a while, eh, Eben?" I shall never come back here, but 1ettle ran, positively. "There's very little a fair start, and


BRA VE AND BOLD. CHAPTER XX!I. Al'l'AIRS IN WATEllFO"R.I>. Leaving Dean in Denver, let us go back to Waterford, an4 see how matters stood in that quiet little village. With Adin Dunha m they did not go well. 1 He had ;m attack of rheumatism during the winter, which hindered him from work ing for several weeks, and so abridged his earnings. Both he and his wife missed Dean, whose lively and cheerful enlivened the house. They were troubled, too, becau se months had passed since they had heard from him. "I don't know what has happened to Dean," said Adin, one Saturday evening, wJ.en he sat beside the kitchen fire with his wife. "Seems to me he'd write if he was in good health. I am afearecl something has gone wrong with the boy." I hope not, father," saicl Sarah Dunham, p;1usmg in her kr1itting. "So do I, Sarah, but you must agree that it's strange he dont write." "That's true, Adin. He was alv:ays a thoughtful, consid<'r0 boy. The hous<" seems lonesome without him." ''So it does, Sarah. But if I only knew he was wouldn't mind that. He may have got sick ant:l boy." "But we must be for come." That time came gooner than either of them thought. Adin Dunham had scarcely completed his sentence when a knock was heard at the door-Adin had never so far fallen in with city customs M to introduce a doorbell. Mrs. Dunham arose and opene

BRAVE AND BOLD. expect to pay off the mortgage with that thousand dollars that I was s o wickedly robbed of." "Oh, ah, to be sure I It was a great pity that you were pre vented from doing it." "That robbery broke me down, Squire Bates. I believe it has made me five years older, though it happened less than a year ago. It makes me feel kind of rebellious at times to think that suc h a villain as the man that robbed me should go unpunished." "It isn't best to cry over spilt milk," said the squire, who felt obviously uncomfortable under these allusions. I can't help thjnkin' of it though, squire." "To be sure, to be sure!" "When it was gone, I hoped that D ea n would be able to help m e to pay up the mortgage some time." "Have you heard from your nephew lately? "Not for months. Have you heard from the man he went out with?" Yes, I have heard several times." "Does he say anything about Dean?" "He says-but perhaps I had better not tell you. I don't want to distress you," and the squire hesitated. "Say what you have to say. I can stand it." "He says he discharged Dean for dishonesty." "Dean dishonest! Why, squire, you must be jokin'." r am sorry to say, neighbor Dunham, that there is no j ok e about it. Mr. Kirby is not likely to be mistaken." "I tell you, Squire Bates," said Adin Dunham, angrily, "that my nephew Dean is as honest as I am myself. The man that charges him with dishonesty is ::.. liar! It's a word I don't often use, but I must use it this time." "I agree with my husband, said Sarah Dunham, her mild blue eyes sparkling with indignation "Nothing would induce Dean to steal." "Of course you are prejudiced in your nephew's favor," said the squire, wit h a slight sneer. "It's very natural, but you can't expect others to agree with you. However, we will drop this subject. I am afraid Dean will be able to help you. I used to think well of him, though my son Brandon didn't agree with me." "'Vhat can your son Brandon know of Dean compared mother and me, who have known the boy since his birth?" the carpenter rejoined, warmly. "I won't argue the question, neighbor Dunham. Indeed, I feel for you in your disappointment. But to come back to bu s iness. You mustn't blame me if I foreclose the mortgage as the law gives me a right to do. I wouldn't do it, I as sure you, if circum stances did not make it imperative." "Foreclose the mortgag e !" repeated Adin, in rnnsternation. "Yes, or I'll give yo u eight hundred dollars for the place over and above the mortgage." "Only eight hundred dollars! Why, that would be robbery!" "Think it over, neighbor Dunham, and don't decide hastily. You'll think differently, I am sure, when you have bad time to consider it. I must bid you good-evening now, as I am in haste," and the squire arose quickly, and left the room, followed to the door mechanically and in silence by Dunham. "Sarah," said the carpenter, with rrief-stricken co11ntenance, "this is worse than all. It looks as If we were, Indeed, forsaken by Providence." "Hush, Adin I That Is wicked. It looks hard, but the Lord may yet give us deliverance." "I am afraid we shall end our days in the poorhouse, Sarah," said the husband, gloomily. "It won't be this year or next, Adin. Eight hundred dollars will support us for two years, and then there is your work, be sides. Let us look on the bright side!" But that was not easy for either o f them. It seemed to Adin Dunham that his cup of bitterness was full CHAPTER XXIII. HOW THE MYSTERY WAS SOLVED. We return to Denver, where business required Dean and Ben Rawson to remain two or three days. Eben Jones was too Im patient to reach home to bear them company, but started at once for Connecticut. Rawson and Dean secured a large room In the leading hotel, which they made their headquarters. Denver was at that time far from being the handsome city it has since become. Society was mixed, and the visitors who were continually arriving and departing embraced all sorts and conditons of men. There was no small sprinkling of adventurers, both good and bad, and it was necessary for the traveler to be wacy and prudent, lest he should fall a prey to those of the latter kind. The second night our two fri e nds retired late, having passed a busy and as it proved profitable day, for it was on that day Dean effected his purchase of lots already referred to. "I feel fagged out, Dean," said Rawso n, as he prepared for bed. "I have been worki ng harder than I did at the mines." "I am tired, too, but I have passed a pleasant day," said Dean. "I think I would rather live here than at the mines." "You can have your choice when you return, but for my part I like the mines. I prefer the freedom of the mining camp to tlie restraints of the city." "There isn't much restraint that I can see." "There will be. Five years hence Denver will be a c!!1." "In that case my lots will have risen in value." "No doubt of it. You have made a good purchase. But what I was going to say is this. I am so dead tired that it would take an earthquake to wake me. Now, as you know, we have con siderable money in the room, besides what we have outside. Sup pose some thief entered our room in the night!" "I wake ea sil y," said Dean. "That is lucky. There's a fellow with a hang-dog look rooms just opposite, whose app.earance I don't like. I have caught him spying about and watching us closely. I think he is our money." "What is his appearance, Ben?"


l BRAVE AND BOLD. "He ha s red hair and a red beard. There is something in his expression that looks familiar. but I can't place him. I feel sure, at any rate that he is a dangerous man." "I haven't noticed him, Raw s on." "I have got it int o my hc;id s omehow that he will try to enter our roBm when we are as leep." "Dut the doo r i s lock e d." "If the man i s a profe ss ion a l he will b e a b le to get in in spite of that. Now Dea n. I want you to tak<' my revolver and put it under your pillow, to use in c a s e it should be necessary. Of course you will wake m e als o in case of a visit." "Very well, Ben ." The two undresse d and got into bed There were two beds m the room, the s mall e r o ne b ei ng occupied by Dean. This was placed over against the wind ow, whil e Raw so n's wa s closer to the door, on the right. Dean as v 1 ell a s Rawson, was tired and so on fell asleep. But for some reason his sleep was troubled. He tossed about, and dreamed bad dre ams. It might have been the conversation that had taken pl a c e between Rawson and hims elf which shaped the dreams that di s turbed him. It seemed to him that a man had entered the room, and was rifling Raws on s pockets The dream excited him so much th:it it awakened him, and none too s oon, for there, bending over the chair on which Rawson h a d thrown his clo thes was the very man whom his companion had described The moonlight that flooded the room revealed hin:i clearly, 1with his red hair and beard just as he had presented him s elf to Dean in his dreams. Dean arose to a sitting po sture, and quietly drew out the re volver from undern e ath his pillow. are you doing there?" he demanded The intruder started, and, turning quickly, fixed his eyes upon Dean. He didn't appear so much a larmed as ::mgry at the inter rupti on. "Lie down, and keep still if you know what's good for your5clf, kid I" he said, in a menacing tone. "And let you rob my friend? Not much I" said Dean, boldly. "Lay down those clothes!" "\Vhen I get ready." "I command you to lay them down!" said Dean, boldly. "I'll wring your neck if you don't keep quiet," said the robber, quietly. "Rawson I" cried Dean, raising his voice. "Confusion!" muttered the thief, as, dropping his booty, he took a step toward Dean's bed. "Look out for yourself!" said Dean, in a tone of warning. "Come nearer, and I fire!" Then for the first t he intruder noticed that the boy was armed. He drew back.cautiously Just then Rawson asked sleepily, "What's the matter, Dean?" "Wake up, Rawson, quick!" said Dean. Ben Rawson opened his eyes, and took in the situation. at c:incc. He sprang from the bed, and placed himself between the thief and the door. "Let me go I" exclaimed the intruder. as he made a dash forward, only to be s eized by the powerful miner. Now Jet me know who you are, and whether you have taken anything," he said, resolutely. "Dean, let us have some light." The thief strug gled to escape, but in vain. His captor was s tronger than himself. Dean ligh t ed the gas, and both scrutinized the thief clo s ely. Then a light flashed upon Dean. "I know him in spite of hi s false hair and beard," he said. "lt's P e ter Kirby." R a wson pulled off the disguise and Kirby stood revealed. "Yes, it' s Kirby he said, doggedly. "What arc you going to do with me?" "Put you in the hands of the police," an s wered Rawson, coolly. Kirby ren ninrd silent a moment and the n said: "I'll make it worth your while to let me g o "How?" ask e d Rawson, briefly. "That boy's uncle was robbed near a year since of a thousand dollars. I can tell him the name of the thief." "Was it Squire Bates?" a s ked Dean, eagerly. "Till my safety is assured I can t e ll nothing." "Can you enable me to recover the money ? "I can I will be willing to make a statement, and swear to it before a magistrate." "Is not Squire Bates the head of a gang of robbers?" "I am not prepared to say. I will do what I agrel'd." Rawson and Dean conferred together briefly, and decided to rel e ase Kirby on the terms proposed. But it was nece ssary to wait till mornin g and they didn t dare to release him. They tied the villain hand and foot, and kept him in this condition till day light. Then they took him before a magistrate, his statement was written out and sworn to and they released him. "I wouldn't have done this said Kirby, '.'if B a tes had treate d me right; but he has been working agains t me, and I ha v e sworn to get even." Dean did not trouble himself about Kirby s motives, but he was overjoyed to think that through his means the mystery at Waterford had been solved at last, and his uncle would recover his property. "Now I shall go home happy," he said, to Rawson, ' for I shall carry happiness to my good t1ncle and aunt." CHAPTER XXIV. ADIN DUNHAM'S TROUBLE.. Arriving in New York, Dean was tempted to buy a handsome suit of clothes, being fully able to spare the money. But on second thought he contented himself with purchasing a cheap, ready-made suit at one of the large clothing stores on the Bowery. He wanted to surprise his uncle and aunt. Besides, he wished to see what kind of a reception his old friends w o uld give him if he appeared in shabby attire and apparent poverty. He could let them know the truth later on. The evening before his arrival in Waterford Adin Dunham had another call from Squire Batea.


BRA VE AND BOLD "Have you got my interest ready, neighbor Dunham?" he in quired. "No, squire; I can give you a part of lt, u I told you the other day." "That will not answer," said l3ates, in an uncompromising tone. "I need the money at once. Some of my recent investments have paid me poorly, and though I would like to be considerate I can not favor you." "I will try to borrow the money. Perhaps Dean can let me have twenty dollars." "Dean!" repeated Squire Bates, with a sneer. "Do you think r can wait till you hear from him?" "l have heard from him," answered the carpenter. "You have heard from your nephew! 'Where is he?" Squire Bates asked, in surprise. "Here is his letter. It came to hand this morning." Squire Bates took the proffered letter and read as follows: "NEW Yo!UC, July 15. "D!.A1' UNCLE AND AUN'.l': I have got so far on my way home from the West. I will remain here a day or two. Perhaps I can hear of a place, as I suppose there is nothing for me to do in Waterford. I think I s hall be with you on Saturday. "Your affectionate nephew, "DEAN DuNHAX." "He doesn't appear to have made his fortune," said the squire, handing back the letter to the carpenter. "He doesn't say whether he has prospered or not." "If he had he wouldn't be looking for a boy's position in N cw York." "Very likely you're right, Squire Bates. It's something that he ha$ been able te get home to his friends." "Wait till you've seen him," said the squire, significantly. "He will probably return hoine in rags." "Even if he does h<.> will be welcome," rejoined the carpenter, warmly. "Even if he comes home without a penny, he won't lack for a welcome, will he, Sarah?" "I think not, Adin,'' said his wife, in mild indignation. "That is all very pretty and sentimental," said the squire. "P.erhaps you have a fatted calf to kill for the returning prodigai." "Dean p.ever was a prodigal," answered Aqin Dunham. "If yourfriend had. treated him well he might have had some money to return with. It wasn't a very creditable thing to throw the poor boy upon his own resources so far away from home." "We spoke on that subject yesterday, and I distinctly told you that Mr. Kirby had a very good reason to dischar ge Dean. You didn't agree with me. I suppose it is natural to stand up for your own. However, I will give you three days to make up the interest. That will carry us to Monday. But I &hall also require you to pay the mortgage, or el'Se accept nzy offer for the place. I will give you anothe,r week tq do that." Squire Bateq went out of the rooi, lco.ving Adin and Sarah Dunham in some trouble of mind. There to be no he1p for it. They must be dispossessed of what had been their hol!le for many ye

/ 32 BRA VE AND BOLD. "Very well. I c!on't know a s he can do any harm--or good." "That remains to he :;een, uncle." Dean went to church on Sunday, and received a warm wel cx,me from nea;ly all the congregation, for he was popular with tbos e of all ages. He wore a smiling, untroubled look which p uzzled Squire Bates and Brandon. "'Does he know th<1t I am going to foreclose the mortgage?" a > ked the quirl' "If Brandon. "Yes, for I told him." 'It seems strange that he should be so cheerful." "He won't be-to-morrow." "No, I apprehend not." * * When Squire Bates called at the carpenter's modest home Dean e pened the door, and inYited him into the sitting-room, where the two found then1 s elvcs alone. "I want to sec your uncie," said the squire. "If it's about the mortgage, I will attend to that matter." "You-a boy?" "Yea"! feel competent to settle the matter.ff "Ther.c is only one way of settling it, by paying the money." ''I propose to pay it as soon as--" "Well, as soon as what?" "As soon as you restore to my uncle, with interest, the tbou a;ind dollars you stole from him nearly a year since." 'What do you mean by this insolence?" demanded Squire J3::tes, springing to his feet ant'! glaring' at Dean. "I mean," answered Dean, slowly, "that I have the sworn tes timony of Peter Kirby, given me at Denver, implicating you in that robbery." ''Show it to me," said the squire, turning livid. "1:ere is a copy. The original is in the hands of a New York lawyer." Squire Bates took the paper in his trembling fingers, and read it deliberately. ''This is a lie!" he exclaimed, hoarsely. "The matter can come before the courts if you wish it. My uncle recognized you at tJ1e time of the robbery, but no one would believe his testimony. Fortunately, it will be substantiated n ow." "But this is the most utter absurdity. Does anybody believe that a man of my reputation would be implicated in a highway robbery?" "They will find it equally hard to believe that you are the captain of a band of robbers with he adquarters in Colorado. I have been in the cave 'where your booty is concealed, and know what I am talking about." :\fter fif t een minutes more the squire capitulated, only making it a condition that Dean would keep secret the serious discoveries which he had made. ''I will do so, unless I am summoned to testify in court," said D<>an. 'Leave me to explain matters to your uncle," said the squire. De:i.n calk<.l tlie car,1.1cutcr intu the rourn. "Mr. Dunham." said Squire Bates, with his old suavity, "I haYe arrange d matters satisfactorily with your nephew. He has re covered the large sum of whic h you were robbed a year ago, and paid the mortgage, or is prepared to do so. Dean, if you will accompany me to my office we will arrange this affair." "But, who sto1e the money?" asked Adin Dunham, bewildered. "I promised not to tell," said Dean. "Was I right?" "Yes, yes as long as you got the money back." Dean r eceived the mortgage back canceled, and something over hundred. dollars besides, which he placed in his uncle's hands. Adin Dunham looked ten years younger, and his face was radiant. His joy was increased when Dean told him how he had prospered out West, and his aunt five hundred dollars, reserving for himself the remainder of the thousand which he had brought home. Two months later Dean returned to Denver to find that his lots had considerably increased in value. Gradually he sold them off for twice what he paid, and entered business in the Quee n City of Colorado. Squire Bates soon removed from Waterford, and the villagers have heard nothing of him since. But Dean could tell them th a t his connection with the band of robbers was discovered, and that he is upon conviction serving a protracted. term in a Wes tern prison. What h as become of Brandon or his mother is not known to the general public, but it is less than a year since Dean, while leaving the Denver post office, was accosted by a shabbily dressed young man who asked fcir a s sistance "Are you not Brandon Bates?" asked Dean, after a brief glance. Brandon was about to hurry away, but Dean detained him. "Don't go," he said. "I am glad to help you," and he placed two gold eagles in the hands of the astoqished Brandon. "Come to me again if you arc in need," said Dean, in a friendly manner. "Thank you I I didn't expect this from you,'' said Brando n. "I thought you would triumph over me." "If I did I should show myself unworthy of the good fortune that has come to me. I wish you good luck." That was the last Dean has seen of Brandon. Let us hope that he will deserve good luck, and attain it. Adin Dunham still lives, happy in the companionship of his good wife, and the prosperi t y of his nephew. But there is one thing that puzzles him. He has never been able to solve The W Mystery. THE END. The next issue, No. 55, will contain "Among Russian Nihilist s ; or, The Great Assassination Plot." By Simon, of t!ie French Secret Service. This is a most extraordinary story by a very famous man. The hero, an American boy, is a splendid fellow, and excit ing adventures be passes through, WC venture to state, have never been equaled. It is a story to thrill you throuih and through, and i call!lol be too reconun..:uJed.


............ .... H-.. i Largest Circulation 01 Any Library Published :I: THE IDEAL PUBLICATION FOR THE AMERICAN YOUTH + :j: The stories that appear in Tip Top have been written especially for the bright, \ :;: up-ta-date American lad. They detail the adventures of Frank and Dick Merri well, two ::: =br=ot=h=er=s,=w=ho=ar=e=a=ll=-a=ro=un=d=at=hl=et=es=w=i=th=pl=en=ty=of=p=lu=ck=an=d=da=sh=.==== Wtley. J '?! + 385-Dick Merriwell' s Red Friend ; : t or, Old Joe Crowfoot to the Front. + I 386-Frank iv,:erriwelYs NQmads; or, Cap'n Clever Work. + 387-Dick Merriwell' s Distrust; ; or, Meeting the Masked Champions. 388-Frank Merriwell's Grand Finish; + or, The Independent Chal!lpions of America. 389-Dick Merriwell Back at Fardale; or, Getting Onto the Eleven. ;J: 390-Dick Merriwell' s New Enemy; or, The Hatred of Barron Black. i + 39lDick Merriwell's Hard Struggle; i i or, Great Work on the Gridiron. i + + + 392-Dick Merriwell Held in Check; :t i or, Chester Arlington's Successful Move. t l Merriwell's Firm Hand; or, Settling Old Scores. f 'i 394 Dick Merriwell' s Last Resort; or, Fighting Hard to the Finish. To be had from all newsdealers, or sent upon the receipt of price, Sc., by the publishers + + + + i STREET & SMITH, 238 William St., New York City i + +