One boy in a thousand; or, Yankee to the backbone

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One boy in a thousand; or, Yankee to the backbone

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One boy in a thousand; or, Yankee to the backbone
Series Title:
Brave & Bold
Thorpe, Fred
Place of Publication:
New York
Street & Smith
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1 online resource (29 p.) 29 cm.: ;


Subjects / Keywords:
Dime novels. ( rbgenr )
Mystery fiction. ( gsafd )
Detectives -- Fiction -- United States ( lcsh )
serial ( sobekcm )


Original Version:
Volume 1, Number 1

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University of South Florida
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University of South Florida
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The University of South Florida Libraries believes that the Item is in the Public Domain under the laws of the United States, but a determination was not made as to its copyright status under the copyright laws of other countries. The Item may not be in the Public Domain under the laws of other countries.
Resource Identifier:
028874617 ( ALEPH )
15934304 ( OCLC )
B15-00002 ( USFLDC DOI )
b15.2 ( USFLDC Handle )

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Fl VE CErtTS A C:OMPLeTE STORY EVE;RY WEEK Tom sprang from his berth, flung open the door, and seized Mr. Maxwell and dragged him out into the cabin. . .


\ BRAVE-BOLD .fl Different Complete Story Every Week Isssuli Weeltly. By Subscription $2.50 per year. . . STREET & SMITH, 1138 Wi11iam St., N. Y. Entered accordingto Act of Conpess in tlie year iqoa, in Ike Office of the Librarian 11f CongreSJ, Wasllins-ton, D. C. No. t. NEW YORK. December 27, 1902. Price Five ONE BOY IN A THOUS.AND; OR, YANKEE TO THE BACKBONE. By FRED CHAPTER I. A BOSTON WAIF "I'll take yer home, mister. Where d'yer live?" And the speaker, a ragged but bright-faced boy of fourteen or fifteen, pressed his way through a crowd of youngsters who had been teasing a drunken man, and placed himself between them and their victim. "Here, gimme yer bag," he went on. "Maybe yer don't live in de city. I guess yer from New York." "You're right, I am," returned the man in a thick voice, as he turned his b1oodshot eyes upon the lad 's face. "I t'ought so. I gen'aJly knows a New Yorker w'en I sees him. Was yer a-goin' home?" "Yes." "Well, yer'd betterinot try ter travel jest now." "I guess you're right," replied the stranger with the same daz:ed look. He was a weJl-dressed, elder1y man, and was evidently ashamed of the condition in which be found himself. Then. turning to the old man, the boy said: "What hotel yer stoppin' at, mister?" "The Parker House. Know where it is?" "Cert-up on School Street." "You'd better caJI a carriage, boy." "Guess, yer right, mister. Hello, Johnny !"-the last exclamation addressed to a passing hackman, who promptly reined up. THORPE. W'ith some difficulty the muscular little fellow assisted the gentleman to the carriage and helped him in. He wa!> about to take his leave, when the old man said: "Hold on, bciy." "What is it, mister?" "Get in here." "What fer?" I want to talk to you." The boy jumped in, and the carriage started up one of the crookede st of Boston's many crook ed streets. "I've gbt more on board than I'm able to carry, boy," said the stranger. His utterance was thick. He articulated with considerable difficulty. "I see yer have, sir," repl ied the lad His reply was perfectly respectful, almost diffident. "What'\ your name?" "ThomaJ Woods." "I thought those feJlows called you Tom Tough." The boy l aughe d "Dey did; it's a name dey've give me." "How did you earn it?" "By bein' tough, I reck'n mister. Dey ain't no t'ree of 'em kin l ick me." He made the announcement with a good deal of complacency "I don't. doubt it," returned his companion. "You're a news boy aren't you?" "Newsboy bootblar:k, I kin do most anyt'ing."


2 BRAVE AND BOLD. The carriage halted in front of the Parker House. The driver and Tom helped the old gentleman to alight, while a porter took his valise. "Good-by, sir," said the boy, starting off. But the old man laid a hand upon his shoulder, saying: "'N"ait a minute." "vVhat fer, sir?" "I want to give you something for your trouble in my behalf." "Oh, dat's all right." "No, it isn't. Here's a half a dollar for you." But Tom drew back. "I didn't do nothin' ter earn it, sir. Please keep it. I never likes ter handle no money dat I don't work fer." "Well, you're one boy in a thousand," said the old gentleman; and the driver looked as if he thought so, too. Tom said nothing. "I've taken a fancy to you," went on the stranger. "Can' t you come here and see me in the morning?" "Me, sir?" asked the lad in astonishment. "Certainly." "Yes, sir, I kin ef yer want meter." 'T do. Come at about nine o'clock." "All right, sir "Ask for me at the office-my name is Maxwell." "Yes1 sir." "And now, driver, help me upstairs. I've got a bigger load on than you'd think. ;My tongue will work, but my le gs won't." "A regular Boston drunk," laughed the driver falilliliarly. "Yer orter live here, sir." With a good-natured "good-by, sir," the boy walked away. At nine o'clock the next morning our young hero presented himself at the office of the Parker House. He had taken some pains with his personal appearance. He had washed his face until you could have seen your own in it, and his hair was carefully combed and plastered down with water. His cJothes, too, had evidently had a brushing, and in seve r al places missing bu ttons were supplied with pins. "I wanter see Mr. Maxwell,'' he announced, marching up to the office. The clerk grinned. "You do, eh? And who are you Johnny?" "I hain't got a card wid me, Georgie, but he'll know who I am." The smjle faded from the official s face. "Who are you calling Georgie?" he demanded, wrathfully. ''You," was the prompt reply. "An' who are you a-callin Johnny?" 'How d a re you a ddress m e s o fa miliarly?" "Same reason dat you put on lugs wid me. Say, I hain t g o t no time ter swap chin wid you. I wanter see Mr. Maxwell." "Get out of here, you young ragamuffin." "No, I won't git out," maintained Tom, stoutly, almost de fiantly. "You're here on big wages ter wait on de gents w'at com e s here an' dere friend s Well, I'm Mr. Maxwell's friend. See? Send up ai;' him dat Tom Woods is here, or I'll i;c port yer.' Just then a senior clerk stepped forward, saying, good humor edly: "St;nd up the boy's name I think he's the one that came home with Mr. Maxwell la st evening." "Dat' s just who I am added Tom. ''De gent a s ked me ter c ome ap' 3 C'e him, an' dat' s w y T'm hen. The young man wrote Tom's name on a card, and gave it to a bellboy, ordering him to take it to Mr. Maxwell's room. In a few minutes the boy came back, saying: "Mr. Maxwell says he's to come right up." "Then show him to the room," ordered the senior clerk. CHAPTER II. TOM FINDS A FRIEND. The bellboy started for the staircase. But Tom called him back. "Hold on dere I" "What's matter?" "I don't keer 'bout walkin' up-I'll take de elevator." The boy hesitated and looked at the clerk. "He is right,'' said that official. "As the guest of one of our guests he is certainly entitled to use the elevator. Show him to it." The boy obeyed. Tom seated himself upon the luxurious, cushioned-seat as if he had been used to that sort of thing all his life. It must not be imagined from the foregoing that Tom Woods was an aggressive boy who was always" "looking for a fight." On the contrary, he never sought one, but kept out o{ them as muc h as he could. But he was always quick to defend himself when attacked, for he hat! a Yankte's innate dislike of being "downed" by any one. A few minutes after the brief wordy encounter which we have chronicled he was shown into Mr. Maxwell's room. He found the old gentleman r ecJin ing upon a soft. He did not arise, but extended his hand, which Tom took almost timidly "How are you this morning?" he asked. "First-rate, sir replied the boy. As you see, I'm in rather better condition than when we last met." "Yes, I see you are, sir." 'Oh,' as Shakespeare says 'that man will put an enemy ii; his mouth to steal awy his brains,'" excla imed Mr. Maxwell. "It didn't seem ter git away wid your brains, sir," responded Tom, "but it kinder knocked de life out o' yer legs.'' The old gentleman laughed. "You're right there, Tom-let's see, you said your name was Tom Woods, didn't you?" he said. "Ye s s ir, or Tom Tough, whichever yer likes ter call me." ' Well, I think I prefer the former. My name is also Thomas -Thomas Maxwell. And now we can c o nsider ourselves for mally introduced. v\Till you let me ask you a few questipns, Tom?" As many as yer wanter, sir." Are your parents living?" N o s ir. d ey"s b o th dead "Have they been dead Jong ? "My m udder died w'en I was a baby, an' my fader w en I was 'bout eight years old.'' "And you are now--?" "Most fifteen." "And all these years you have had to shift for yourself?" "'Yes, sir ''Have y o u no relatives in Boston?" "Haven't got none nowhere, sir." "vVher<' do you live?" Tom stared at the old gentleman. '\V'y, right here in Boston, sir." T know. but J mean in what street?"


BRA VE AND BOLD. 3 The boy laughed. "I don't run no swell-front house on Beacon Street, Mr. Max-well. I live most anywheres." "But where do you sleep?" "Wherever I git a chance-gen'a.Jly m de street." "You've had 3 hard life." "Oh, I dunno," sa1J Tom; "ther's plenty had harder." "That's tl.e best way to look at it, my boy. We can never be so low down that there is not some one lower." "Dat's w'at r t'ink, sir; but I don't wanter keep down no longer'n I kin help." "You're right in that, too, Tom. Have you had any schooling?" The boy's hce clouded. "No, sir, I hain't; an' dat's w'at has worried me mor'n anything else." "You can re'ld, I suppose?" "Oh, yes ir I kin read an' write, an' cipher some. I wouldn't be no good fer de newsi::aper biz ef I couldn't read." "I suppose not "No, sir. A newsboy in Boston ain't like one in New York. He'> got k1 know or git out. Why, dere was a young Mick dat couldn't read tried ter start in de biz a while ago. He wanted de odder fellers ter tell him what de news was one mornin', su he'd know what ter holler. We told him dat John L. Sullivan had died o' consumption, an' he went yellin' it all over town till he struck a sport dat had just seen Sullivan, an' got kicked all over dt> Common." "That rather rough on him," said Mr. Maxwell. "Well," returned Tom, "a feller ter git along in Boston has got ter know his A B C's, anyhow." "\/Veil. to get back to yourself," said the old gentleman, "you would like to have a good education?" "Yes, sir, I would." replied the boy, decidedly. "You would like to have a better position in life, to sleep m a nice bed in a comfortablt> room?" "Of course I would, sir." "Well, you shall." Tom stared at his companion. "\iVhat d' yer mean?" "What T say. vVould you like to work for me?" "What always in a good humor. Don't you ever worry?" "Sometimes. s;r, but not very often." "Well, go and dispose of your bootblack kit. Where is it?"


4 BRAVE AND BOLD. "Down in a .news-stand on Brattle Square dat's kep' by.a friend anxious-to do all he possibly could to promote his employer's o' 1nine." "\Vhen you have attended to your own business come back here, and we will see about getting you a new wardrobe." ''A ne\v w'at, sir?" "A new suit of clothes." "Yes, sir. I guess I'll haYe ter have 'em ef I'm a-goin' to travel wid you. But yer kin tak,e de price of em out o' my wages, Mr. Maxwell.. "That will be all right, Tom. Now go along with you." "Aint dere n othi n I kin do fust?-shine up yer or brush yer coat, or--" "No, no, go along. and take your time. We han not got to Jr;,ve Bosten until five o'clock." "A.11 rlght, sir." And the boy l eft the room. "Noble little fcllo\\' !" exclaimed Maxwell with moistened eye.;. "He has taught m e a lesson of self-sacrifice that I need. I like that by. Bah! Tom what's this? Crying? You're an old fool Take a d1ink !" /\nd he drew a Jlask from his pocket and placed it to his lips. J)ut t h e n e xt m o men t he it down untasted. he exclaimed, "I'll try and profit by the l esso n. 1 wont tomh it." An hour later Tom came back, his face radiant. "I give him de kit, :Mr. Maxwell," he said, "an he was de most tickled youngster yer e\er seen." "1'111 glad of it. Tom," smiled the old gentleman. "'vV ell, now, suppo se y;e go out and get your new clothes." "i\Iayb e yer' d radder not walk on de street wid me, sir," suggeste d the boy, shrinkingly. "I could walk a little ways behind." No, no," sa id ::\Taxwell. "lf you were not ashamed to be seen with me in the condition I was in last night it would be in p oo r ta ste for me to object to your company were your garments twice as s habby as they are. Go ahead, my boy." "By iingo," muttered Tom to himself, "he's a brick-that's what he i s Dere ain't nothin' I wouldn't do fer

I BRAVE AND BOLD. "Ought ter be shovelin' coal or trainin' fer a fight 'stead o' lo;ifin' round an' talkin' 'bout his Makes me sick!" In a few minutes the boy returned to his employer. Almost the fin # person he saw when he entered the other car was the dude, who was seated by a stylishly-dressed woman of about fifty engaged in earnest conversation-that is, as earnest conversation as he was capable of. "Do you see that lady over there, Tom?" .asked Mr. Maxwell, whose face the boy noticed wore a disturbed look. "De lady wit de dude?" "She is my sister." "Der one yer was tellin' me of, sir?" "Yes. It is the first time we have been brought face to face for many years, but she would not recognize me." "I shouldn't t'ink yer'd wanter speak ter her, sir." "vVell, perhaps you are right, Tom, but the ties of blood are strong. "Is her name Smythe, sir?" "Yes ; how did you know?" Tom to!. him of his int e rview with the dude. "So that fellow is her so n. Well, I s hould not think she would be proud of him." "Me neidcr sir. Ef he was mine I'd wanter tie a brick around his neck an' chuck him ove rbo ard." Mr. Maxwell did not smi\e, but leaned back in his seat, stifling a sigh. "Guess I was too fresh ag'in," muttered Tom. "I've got to look out or I'll git him mad, an' I wouldn't do

6 BRA VE AND B O LD. "I've no timr to talk, boy. Let go my coat." "Not much I won't. Ef yer hain't got time yer kin make it." By this time the ::abin was almost empty. Nearly every one had reached the boats. The smoke was growing thicker and thicker, the crackling of the flames was mom

BRA VE AND BOLD. 7 in g accents. "By J ove, what a head I'vegot on me this morning! Why, hold on I Where are we, anyhow? Have I got 'em again, or what's the matter? I thought I went to bed on a Sound steamer, though I don't remember anything about it. What place is this, anyhow, my boy?" Tom briefly expl'1ined what had happened. Mr. Maxwell asked him a number of excited questions, and was soo n in posse ssio n of all the facts of the dreadful catastrophe . "And I owe my life to you, my noble boy!" he exclaimed, i n a choking voice. "Dat's all right, Mr. ilfaxwell," said the bo):. "I didn't do no more fer you dan you'd ha' done fer me, I guess." "I cannot imagine the position s reversed," said the old, gravely. "Tom, I have n1ade a bea s t of my self, and it isn't the first time." I hope it'll be der last," the boy ventured lo say. Mr. Maxwell did not hear or did not choose to hear the remark. 'How can I face the other passengers?" he said, bitterly. "Tom, I am nol a ma11 who look s upon such an e sca pade with any degree of pride; I ::>.shamed of it, more ashamed than per hap s you imagine ." I should fink yrr would be, s ir ," was the boy' s blunt reply. "And yo11 have saved my life," continued Mr. Maxwell. "It is a worthless one, but your bravery is 11one the less commendable Is there any way i}l which I can reward you?'' "Yes, sir, dere is," replied Tom, promptly. "What is it?" "I don't t'ink yer'd do it, :\fr. IIIaxwc ll. ''Why don't you? Ask me any favor that it is 111 my po1\er to grant and rest assured that I will grant it. "Do yer mean

8 BRAVE AND BOLD. As he started to go upstairs again he heard one of the gen tlemen say: "By J ovc I that little chap is one boy in a thousand!" "Don't see dat I done anyt'ing ter make all dat fuss about," soliloquized our hero. "I guess dem gents must !\ave more money dan dey know w'at tcr do wid." He took the roll of bills from his pocket and counted them, and was astomshed to find that there were two hundred dollars. "I don't t'ink I orter take dis," he mused. "I'll see w'at Mr. Maxwell says." He found his employer drinking his coffee. I tell you what, !TIY boy," the old gentleman said, "it takes more nerve than you perhaps imagine to deny myself that cocktail this morning. But I'm going to keep my word to you if I can." "Of course yer kin," said Tom. And then h e went on to tell Mr. Maxwell about the money he had received, and to ask his advice as to whether he ought to keep it or n ot. "Of you must keep it," said the gentleman, promptly; "and, to my way of thinking, you earned it and a good deal more. Don't think of giving it back "All right, sir-jest as you say. But I don t know w'at tei:, do wid it" "You don't?" 'No, sir Will you keep it fer me?" "Cer tainly, if you wish. Sh all I put it in the savings bank?" "Yes, sir," and Tom'5 face brightened up, "I'd be much obliged ef yer would. I'd like ter sa lt down a little money fer a rainy day." Mr. Maxwell laughed heartily as he put the roll of bills in his pocket. "You"re an original fom." "Vv'at's dat sir?"' "vVeli, nev".r mind Go downstairs and try to get me a N. Y. & N H. time-tahle. I want to get back to the city as soon as I can." "All right, sir." The time-t<1hle was procured; and before noon our hero and his employer were in the metropolis. CHAPTER VII. A HARD BLOW FOR TOM. Tom was simply astounded at the grandeur of :.\fr. Maxwell 's New Yark home. It was a large, old-fashioned brick mansi o n in the lower part of the city; a neighborhood that had been fashionable in bygone days, and to which a few of the old families still cling. They were admitted by a servant in livery, who, to Tom's astonishment, took his hat and coat and ushered him into the drawing-room with a profound bow. Mr. Maxwell watched his protege in evident amusement. "Well," he asked. "what do you think of it? How do you like the house?" "It's boss" replied the boy, emphatically. "Why don't you sit down?" laughed the gentleman. "What, on

BRA VE AND BOLD. 9 There was no response, but the boy heard an incohei;_i=nt muttering mside the room. Al a rmLd he knocked again and again but received no reply. \Vhile he was thus engaged the servant, William, appeared upon the scene. '"It isn't any use, Master Thomas," he said, with a grim smile; "I've often seen him that way before. He'll sleep till he gets ready to wake up, Europe or no Europe, and you may as well let him alone "But don't you hear him talking in there?" cried To. m, iwpatiently. The man listened. "Oh. he's '1nly talking in his sleep," he finally said. "No n se n s e l" responded Tom, quickly. "He is sick. Let us burst opet the door." "Do you mean it, Master Tom?" "Of course I do." "Well, it's plain enough that you never saw Mr. Maxwell when he had a jag on. He's alwayso this way. Better leave him alone and let him sleep it off." For a mom e nt the boy hesitated. Then he said: "No, burst O!Jen the door; I'll take the responsibility." The sta lw art fello\v put his shoulder to the door, the lock flew o .ff. and th!.' rn xt moment the two stood inside the room. As the servant's eyes rested upon his master a change came vv,er features. Mr. Maxwell's eyes were wide open, and rested upon the two intruders w1th a va< ant stare. His face was flushecl. and he was unintelligibly. Tom rushpd up to hi1n. "Mr. ht> cried, "don't you know me?" There was; no response. "Won' t you speak to me?" continued the boy with growing excitement, as he pi<1ced hand upon the old man's head. But Mr Maxwell did not appear to hear the words. his eyes gazed vacantly 111to 1 hose of our hero. "He's a sick m indulgence in alcohol. He may live, but, to be frank with you, T doubt it." "You doubt it !" gasped the boy. "Yes; if I an1 not wrorig, he has but a few hours to live." The physicion not wrong. In less than twelve hours Mr. Maxwell died without having regained consciousnrss, and Tom was on<:e mort> alone in the world. CHAPTER VIII. A SERIOUS ACCUSATION. At fir s t our hero was fairly stupefied with grief at the Joss of his frirnd. Had Mr Maxwell really been his father his devotion could not have been greater. seems dazed-like,'' said \Villiam to the housekeeper, "but when :tvlrs. Smythe comes she'll wake him up, poor fellow!" "Do you think that woman will dare enter this house?" a s ked Mrs. Wilson, the oJd lady who had served Mr. Maxwell as housekeeper for many vears. "Do I think she will, ma'am? I know it. As soon as she h&ars of her brothP.r's death she'll come and take possession." "I don't know but you're William. But she won't hold possess10n long." "Why not, ma'am?" "Because Mr. MaxweH has made a will leaving everything to Master Thomas." Mrs. \Nilson's prediction was realized. Before s1111set on. the day of Mr. Maxwell's death, his sister and her promising son appeared up0n the scene. Attired in the deepest mourning, Mrs. Smythe rushed into the parlor crying: "Where is he ?-where is my poor brother? Oh, this is dread ful, dreadful!" "B-ba Jovt> !" stammered Gussie, who had a crape band about six inches on his hat. "Mr. Maxwell's body is upstairs, ma'am,'' replied William. "Do you wish to see it?" "Do I wish to see it? Of course I do. Show me to the room at once." Just at this moment Tom came downstaih. As the woman's eyes resoted upon his face the expression of her features changed. "Out ot thio house, you young she hissed. "I am misti : ess here now!" "Not yet." said a quie::t voice behind her. And turning, she found herself face to face with Mrs. W!lson, the gentle ol

IO BRAVE AND BOLD. friends, but there was no sincerer mourner than the friendless boy to whom the dead man had been so kind a benefactor. That evening Mr. Maxwell's lawyer called and held a long consultation with Mrs. Smythe, in which Tom was permitted to take part. This lawyer was a man whom Tom felt he could trust. He had been Mr. Maxwell's life-long friend, and had always shown a kindly feeling toward our hero. "f d o not bclic, e,'' he said, "that your foster father made a will. Had he done so he would certainly have employed me to draw it up, and J am not aware of the existence of such a docu ment. I think I can assure you that he died intestate, and that Mrs. Smythe is his heiress." "Of course I am,'' said the woman, a ring of triumph iu her Y o ice. boy, lcaye nly house!" "Yot: surely would not turn the lad 011! as you would a dog?" the old lawyer. "Y cs. 1 would. Let him go back to the streets where my brother found him." Tom arose. "I will go," he said "You shall not have to tell me again, .'vlrs. Smythe." At this moment Gus sie appeared upon the threshold. a stout, elderly man behind him. "\IV-wait!'' he exclaimed "Gussie, my dear child, what is it,,, cried Smythe. "\Vho is this gentleman?'' Tom could not help fancying that both mother and son ,,ere playing part5. ''He's a d-d-detertive, ba Jove!" replied the dnde. A detective, Gussie?" Yes, mamma. I've been robbed, don'tcher know." "Robbed, my darling. Of what?" 'My w-wwatch, don'tcher know, and my d-d-diamond scarfpin." "Is it possible? And by whom?" "B-by that b-boy," indicating Tom. "lt's a lie exclaimed the amazed boy, "and you know it." "vV-well, T s-suspect yaw, anyhow, and I demand that yaw room be s-st>arched." "Search it and welcome," said Tom,' promptly. "I will .not leave this house until my innocence is established." "\Vhich it will be, I am certain," said the old lawyer. ''Thank you, sir," r eturned Tom, gratefully. All proceeded at once to the lioy's room. Tom handed his keys to the lawyer,. who unlocked and opened the trunk. Upon the top lay the missing watch and chain and several other a rticle s of jewelry belonging to Mrs. Smythe. "D-didn't I t-tell yaw so?" demanded Gussie, triumphantly. "I never put those articles in there!" cried Tom. "This 1s a vile plot. "You are my prisoner, boy," said the detective, stepping forward' and placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hold on a minute," said a coarse voice behind them, "I've got a word to say about this business." Turning, they found themselves confronted by a red-faced, showi ly-dres sed woman of about twenty-five. "Who are you?" demanded Mrs. Smythe. "Who am I? I'm Mrs. Maxwell, the widow of Thomas Maxwell and the mistress o( this house-that's who I am,'' was the composed reply. CHAPTER IX. THE TABLES TURNED. Every one 'stared at the newcomer in speechless amazement. The woman seemed to hugely enjoy the sensatio n she had produced. "Yes," sh.: went on with a light laugh, "it's just so. I am Mrs. Thomas }faxwell, and you, madam, have the honor of being my sister-in-law. But I don't care particularly ;;IJout culti vating. your acquaintance. So, if you please, you can just step out of the house-not only you, but your chump of a son, and this boy," indicating Tom. "In a word, all of you." "B-ba Jo1e !" stammered Gussie. '':VIiserable woman,'' gasped Mrs. Smythe, with rage, "leave this house" ' Ha, ha 1 langhed the "Oh. no, I guess not." "You claim that you are Mr. Thomas I\Iaxwell's widow?" in terposed the old lawyer, with a searching giance into t!o!e newcomer's face. "No one knew that Mr. Maxwell was married." "No; we kept the marriage secret for reasons of our own." ''V/hat are your proofs of this cJ.aim ?" "}.ly marriage certificate, for one thing." And the woman drew a folded paper from her pocket and handed it to the law yer He scanned it.closely.' "It appears perfectly regular," he sa id. ''Oh, it's all straight-don't you worry about that, my friend." "Let mf" see it!" hissed ;\[rs. Smythe, with a malignant glance al the stranger. The lawyer handfd the paper to Mrs. Smythe. "I've heard of the clergyman," said she, half to herself. "vVhy have you not lived with your husband?" she asked. Oh, we had our reasons for Jiving apart-what they were are none of your business. And now, Mrs. Smythe, I'll trouble you lo get out-skip-leave the house. Do you understand English?" "Ba Jove!" interpolated Gussie, feebly, as he cast a hopeless glanc e at his mother. "Don't stir, Gussie," said Mrs. Smythe, fiercely. ''I'll dispose of this woman in short order." "You cahn't. don'tcher know," returned her hopeful son. "Hold on I" interrupted Mrs: Maxwell, turning to the dude. "I forgot about you. I've a little account to settle with you." "B-ba Jove!" stammered Gussie. ''Yes, 'ba Jove!'" mimicked the woman; "you accuse this boy here of stealing that jewelry, do you?" 'Ya-as, don'tcher know." ''Well, you're a liar. You put those things in his trunk yourself-I saw you do it-I and the servant who let me in. I've been here some time reconnoitering, and I was hiding in the hall when you hid the things in the trunk." "B-b-ba Jove!" stammered Gussie, his face turning Yery pale. "It is false!" hissed Mrs. Smythe. "No. it ain't false, neither, and if I'm not mistaken you were in the plot, too. N'ow, I may not be a very fine lady, but I'm too 'traight for 'I dirty trick like that, and I'm going to stand by the boy. Arrest him if you dare; I will appear in court and tell all I know." ''I-I won't arrest him. don'tchcr know," said the terrified Gussi e "I'm s-s-s-sorry J did it-ba Jove I am!" "So you confess it. do you?" said the detective with a look of dis gust. "Ya-as, cion'tcher know." ''Fool!" hissed Mrs. Smythe.


BRA VE AND BOLD. I I "That's abou1 what he is," said Mrs. Maxwell. "Well, that's abo"ut the smallest trick I ever heard of," said the detecti v e in a tone of intense disgust. "If you want to make a complaint agaimt this fellow"-addressing Tom-"I'll arres t him cm the spot." Let him go," said our hero. "He isn't worth the trouble "Well, I guess you re about right." And the officer left the room Mrs. Smythe gave Tom an ugly glanc e "You'll repent this s o me day, she said. "It ought n o t to be nece ss ary for me to remind you, Mrs. Smy the," said the lawyer, "that such remarks are i n decidedly p oo r taste M r s Smythe g l a red at him a moment; then she turned to Mrs. Maxwell, and said : M ay I request a private interview with you?" "You may but you won't get it," was the prompt reply. "I'.ve no time to fool away with you." Mrs. Smythe bent a piercing glance upon her facl!. "If you do not accord me this interview," she said, "you will i-egTet it a. long aii you live." T h e re was something in her tone that evidently impressed th7 F o r a few moments she was silent, then she said: "Well. you 've mad.-ml" curious, so step into the next room and 111 h ear w hat y ou have to say "Wha t d oe s all this mean?" said Tom to the lawyer, as the t wo women left the 1 oom. "I d on't kn o w was the reply in a low tone, inaudible to Gu ss i e who. s tore! the picture of bewilderment, "but of one thing I am s ure, the re is some rascally plot afoot We must watch a nd w a i t a nd be r eady to take d e cisive measures should occasion r e quire." T h e two women w e re ab sent perhaps a quarter of an hour. W h e n they returne d it w a s evid ent to Tom and the lawyer at a gl a n ce that the condition of aff a irs had ch a nged. Mrs. Smyt he s farl" wore a triumphant lo o k while her com panion s h a d a d e c i d e dly crestfallen app e arance. "Mrs. M a xwell invit e d us to remain here as h e r guest s for an ind e finite p e riod, Gus s ie, the form e r said, "uietly. And thr. dude r e plied with his inevi table: "Ba Jove!" A n d as for you," turning to Tom, "you ca,n leave the house. Is n o t that your de s ire Mrs. Maxwell?" "It is," r e plied the woman; "the sooner he ge s out, the better I s hall br plea $ed. Tom was about to reply, but the lawyer him with a lo o k and said : \ V e :f re g o ing at once good-morning." And followed by Tom. he left the room. CHAPTER X. AN lNIQUITOUS AGREEMENT. Whm tht y were al o ne toge ther, Mrs. Smythe turnt>d to her c o mp a ni o p and d e m ande d p a s s ionately: H ow did you g et mto this hou s e woman?" "I wa lked in One of the servant s who kn o w s me, a nd i s als o awa r e t h a t 1 a m h e r mi s tress, l e t m e in; and I st oo d lis t e n ing to your talk f0r q uite :i little while b e fore I spoke. Is that all y ou'v e g0t tc. sa v ? " I h ave sev eral que st i n n s to a s k y ou. '"W e ll, 1 d on't f e e l m uch likt bein g cross-examine d in my own h o use by an outside r "An outsider. !" cried Mrs. Smythe. 1 "Yes an outsider. I am the owner of this house, and you are only here on sufferance." "You think so, do you?" "I know so.'' "Well, you are very much mistaken." ''What do you mean? "I mean that you do not own this property any more than I do "Aha! you confess that you don't own it, then, eh, Mrs. Smythe?" d emanded the woman, quickly. "I don't mind doii1g so since there are no witnesses. But you are not mi s tress here, either." "What' s the reason I'm riot?" "Becaust my brother did not die intestate. He made a will only two mon t hs before he d i ed." "Do you know what you are talking about, Mrs. Smythe?'' cried the visitor, excitedly. "I do." "Where is this will ?'' "In my possession." "And how does it dispose of the property?" "It evuy p e nny to that boy, who is his adopted son "I don't believe it I" exclaimed the her face paling. "Do n t you? Wen, here is the document." And Mrs. Smyth<' produced a paper from her pocket and held it before her compani o n's eyes. The wom a n made an attempt to seize it, but Mrs. Smythe drew it ba c k quickly. "I'll r e tain it in m:(i possession, if you please," she said, with a sarcastic smile. "When I give it up it will not be to you." "Where did you get it?" asked Mrs. Maxwell, wi t h a glance full of hatred. "I found it in my brother's desk since I have been in this house. 11 was d r awn up by a strange lawyer, evidently, for the one who just Jett us knows nothing of its existence." "Well wh) have you s h o wn it to me?" demand e d the woman. "To prove to you that it is in my power to take every penny of his pro p e rty away from you "Well. you ha v e proved it-what now?" And Mr. M a xwell stared d efia ntly into her companion's face. "I sh al1 thr will unle s s y o u are willing to agree to certain t e rm s I shall imp o se." "Ah! so y o u w ant to talk bu s iness, do you?" If a loo k could have kille d Mrs. Smythe's would h a ve done so. "We ll," added, e ndeavoring to stifl e h e r rage "what do you prop ose?" "I'll be more lib e r a l than you," replied Mrs. Maxwell. "Suppos e we divide e v enly?" Mrs Smy the r efl<:ct e d a few mom e nts. th e n s he said : "Ve r y w ell I a gree "And th r will be d estroy e d." "It s h all not he. \Vere J t o d est roy it I should d stroy my only hold o n } Yoi! 1 -Pr1r> w o m:i.n :111rl I'm a 1 w1h, hc"'s s ome t h i ng abr; uj. yo u th:i t I kin d o f like-tlnf. i s \ Y h<'11 you

12 BRA VE AND BOLD. indulge in too many Jugs. You stay right here, and that booby son of yours, too; I can stand him if you can. Just make yourself at home. After we've made your little divvy I may travel, and then 'You'll have to get out, but for the present you can stay and welcome." It was with difficulty that Mrs. Smythe, who&e instincts and training inclined toward refinement and ultra-fastidiousnt>sS, con cealed her disgust at the coarsenes s of her companion. But she succeeded in doing so, and replied: '"So be it, madam; the arrangement will suit me." CHAPTER XI. THE VOYAGE AND ITS ENDING. "\ii/hat do you mean to do now, Tom?" asked the old lawyer, as they walhd in the direction of Broadway. "I don't know, sir," replied the boy. "I haven't formed any plans yet." "Well, I have a proposition to ;nake to you, my boy." "A proposition, sir?" "Yes. Mr. Maxwell has told me a good deal about you, and what he has said has given me a very high opinion of you. He used to say that you were one boy in a thousand, and I am in clined to belie ve that he was right. Now, you're just the sort of a boy that I want in my office, I fancy, and I'll give you a position there at ten dollars a week, with a good pros pect of advancement, if you'll accept it. \ ii/hat do you say?" Tom hesitated; his color came and went. He did not wish to seem ungrateful to the kind-hearted lawyer, and he had ambitions widely different fiom those suggested by the old gentleman's well-meant offer. Observing his he s itation and embarrassment, his companion said: Speak out, Tom. If you don't like the idea, say so "I'm very much obliged to you, sir," almost st4mmered the boy "but, to tell the truth, I don't quite like it "Why not?" "Because-well, sir, because I want to travel." The old gentleman's brow darkened. "To travel? Travel is a luxury; it is only for the rich." "I don't think so, sir. I think a man may travel cheaply ." "Well, I'll tell you \vhat to do. You come home with me, and spend a day or two in my house. To-night we will have a talk about this matter, and I'll see if I can't convince you that you'd better give up this idea of traveling, and buckle down to business. Will you go?" "Certainly, sir; and I'm very mucli obliged to you for the invi tation," replied Tom, who had been contemp lating the prospect o-f going to a hotel with "Not at all; and I have strong hopes of being able to argue you out of this notion, which seems absurd in the extreme to me. I am a lawyer. and I shall use all my powers, I warn you." But the old gentleman did not succeed. "Well," said the lawyer, after a long argument with Tom, "since you are determined upon this foolhardy scheme, I'll do what I can to help you, and I'll go to the steamer to wish you god speed." The next fortnight was spent in preparations. He did not, however, select the most expensive line, and the cost was no more than he felt that he ought to afford. The reader will remember that the passengers of the ill-fated Sound steamer had presented him with about two hundred dol lars, and Mr. Maxwell had nearly doubled the a.mount, so he was quite well supplied with funds. The old lawyer was not idle during the fortnight. He made searching inquiries as to Mr. Maxwell's marriage with Nancy Graham, as the woman's name proved to be, and found that it had really taken place. The clergyman who had solemn'ized it stated that M:r. Maxwell appeared to be somewhat under the influence of liquor at the time of the ceremony, but not sufficiently so to justify him in re fusing to marry the couple. The woman, Nancy Graham, was undoubtedly an adventuress, but that she was legally Mr. Maxwell's widow, and mistress of his property, there seemed no reason to doubt. "You can only do as I said-watch and wait," said the lawyer to Tom. "Things may right themselves, though it is more than Jike ly that the end has come, so far as you are concerned, and that this woman will have to be left in undisturbed possession of the property which I know my poor friend Maxwell meant should be yours." "I have no hope of anything el se,'' replied the boy, "and am satisfied." "But I'm not!" said the lawyer, heatedly "It's rank injustice, but it can't be helped, I suppose." The morning of Tom's departure came at last. The lawyer and several of our hero's friends c ame to see him off. T he scene w:.s one of such bustle and excitement as always attend the sailing of an ocean steamer, and. Tom's heart beat high as he surveyed the hurrying crowds, and watched the prepa rations for departure. At last the cry of "All ashore!" was heard, and the many friends of the voyagers hurried away. "God bless you, Tom," said the old gentleman, pressing our hero's hand. "I still maintain my opinion that it's a foolish en terprise, but I wish you the best of luck, just the same. Hello! Who's ths ?" Tom looked in the direction indicated, and was surprised and chagrined to see Gnssie Smythe hurrying up the gangplank, ejaculating: "Ba Jove!" "So you're going to have him for a fellow-passenger, eh?" said the old man. "Well, that's hard luck; I'm sorry for you. He was almost too late-it's a pity he did not miss the steamer. \Veil, good-by, once more, by boy." And the lawyer htjrried away, brushing past Gussie in the most unceremonious manner possible, not paying the slightest atten tion to his indignant: "B-ba Jove!" The next moment the gangplank was lowered, a.nd the vessel moved majestically out into the stream. At last Tom was on his travels. But the joy with which his heart was beating, as he waved hi s handkerchief to his friends on the wharf, was alloyed by the re membrance of his more than father, with whom he had hoped to enjoy the journey that was now before him, and, as he took a last look at his native land his eyes were dimmed with tears. While standing buried in thought that was at once painful and pleasurable, he felt a touch 1Jpon his shoulder. Turning quickly, he found himself face to face with Gussie Smythe: "Ba Jove!" said the dude, with a sickly grin, as he removed his cane from his mouth. "What do you want?" asked Tom, unceremoniously. "W-we're not b-bad friends, I hope, deah boy?" said Gussie "Mamma made me do it, don'tcher know. I'm going ovah to see ,._


B RA VE AND B O L D the othaw side, and, if yaw like, we can call b-bygones b-by gones." "Well,.! don't like," said Tom, emphatically. "I want nothing to do with you." Anfi he walked away, leaving the amazed Gussie sucking his cane industriously, and exclaiming: Ba Jove!" Tom found that his roommate was a young fellow, only a year or two older than himself, named Vinton. He was a rather fine-looking young man, but there were un mistakable marks of dissipation on his face. "I guess we shall get along together first-rate," he said to our hero. "I like your looks, and I don't think you'll find me a bad fellow. I've led a rough life. and done a good many things that I ought not to have done; but I don't think I'm exactly a bad sort at heart. I have a fair income, and am traveling for fun. And now you have my biography in a nutshell. I don't ask for yours-you can tell me what you please, and when you please Let's have a drink." But Tom quietly refused, for he had made up his mind never to t o uch intoxicating liquor. His companion only laughed, good-naturedly, and said : "All right; iJ.tSt you say. Perhaps you're right." The voyage was marked with one or two events which we must now relate It was the custom of a number of the gentlemen passengers to spend their evenings in the cardroom-as on most Atlantic steamers-a good deal of gambling was done, and a good deal of money changP.d hands. One evening Tom accompanied Vinton to the cardroom, and sat for some time watching the game-he would not play himself. Vinton had been drinking all the evening, as had most of the men in the room and was considerably excited by his losses, which were heavy Suddenly he flung down his cards, exclaiming: "I' ve always heard that there was hardly a square game play e d on these steamers, and now I know it t ; His opponent, a thick-set young man of twenty-four or five, sprang to his feet shouting: "Do you mean to accuse me of swindling you ?" "That's just what I do!" prnmptly replied Vinton. Instantly theother drew a revolver from his pocket, and lev eled it at the young fellow's head. In a moment Tom had sprung to his feet, and given the would be assassin's elbow a hard knock. The weapon was discharged, and the bullet lodged in the ceil ing. The next instant the gambler was seized and disarmed "You have saved my life!" cried Vinton, grasping Tom's hand when quiet was restored. "How can I reward you?" Tom only laughed, and tried to pass the matter off lightly. But his companion insisted. "Some day I may be able to be of s e rvice to you, and. if I am, you 'll find me ready, my boy." He little imagintd when he spoke what a great service he would be able to render Tom one. day. This event occurred on the day the Ycsse l reached Liverpool. \V'hen the gangplank was lowered, Tom and Vinton were al most the first on shore. But as our hero's teP.t touched terrafirma, a heavy hand wa s laid on his shoulder, and a harsh voice said: "Young man. yo.1' re my prisoner. Take it quiet now, or it"!! be so mu-:h the worse for you." CHAPTER XII. GUSSIE SHOWS FIGHT. Tom stared at the man in amazement. "What do you mean?" he stammered. "Who are you?" "What 1 mean is plain enough," was the reply; "and, as for who I am, I'm a detective from Scot land Yard." "And you arrest me?" demanded the s t ill bewildered boy. "That's what r' said; come along, now; we can t stand here all day "There must be some mistake, interposed Vinton, at this remark. "What have you got to say about it?" asked the officer, surlily. "Just this-that I know you ve made a mistake." "Oh, you do?" "Yes." Just then a tall, plainly dressed man came up to the detective, and asked, with an air of authority which plainly showed that he was the other's superior in rank: "Is this the boy?" "Yes, sir," was the r e spectful answer "You are sure?" Oh, yes; don't you see that he answers the description, sir?" "No more than this other young man does," indicating Vinton. "Oh, I've got the right one, sir," said the detective, positively "No, you haven't." interrupted Tom. "Who do you take me for?" "For Tony Rawson, the young assistant cashier of the --Bank, New York, wno sailed on this steamer on the seventeenth, with ten thousand dollars of the bank's funds." "Well," laughed Tom, "you 'never made a bigger mistake m your l ife. I don't believe the fellow was on the ship at all.'" Yes, he was." "Well, I am he." You have made a mistake, Johnson, interposed the elder of ficer. "He has made a mi s take said Vinto n, quio:;tly. "As I t o ld him I know the boy to be innocent." "How do you know?" Because I am Tony R a w s on." 'You!" And both officer; as well as Torn, stared at the young fellow m amazement. It seemed unaccountable that he should confes s himself the fugitive when he had so good an opportunity to make his escape. Perhaps he read their thoughts, for he said: "This young man, Torn Woods, saved my life a day or two ago and I'm not going to let him suffer for my crime." He spol l m Liv e rp ool, he w o uld take the t ra i n for London. ..


BRA VE AND BOLD His sojourn in Liverpool was, however, somewhat longe r th .an h e intended, for he found so much that was new, strange, and in t eresting that he r ema in ed nearly three d ays in the city. He tived in' the most economical way possible, occupying rooms in a cheap lodgmg house, and getting his meals wherever he hap pened to be at th.time and whenever he happened to feel hungry. He left Liverpool by the four-thirty P. M. express on the afternoon of the third day of his stay in the city .. The only other passenger in the compartment with him was a handsome, aristocrnic-looking young lady, perhaps a year older than himself. She was plainly, yet very elegantly, dressed, and Tom could not help gazing admiringly upon her. Soon after the tram started, seeing that she had nothing to rea<;l, he ventured to offer her one of the two books which he happened to lwve with him. Bi1t she replied: "No. thank you, sir." And the look tha t accompanied the words said, plainly enough: "The idea of surh presumption!" Tom was frozen out. He felt mortified, for his feelings toward the young lady had been of the most respectful nature, and he had only hoped to be able to relieve the tedium of her journey to some extent. "She's one of the ai istocracy, I 'll b e t," he m e ditated, as he con cealed his face behind his book. "Perhaps she thinks I was try ing to 'mash' her. Maybe I was a little tco fresh. \Veil, I can see that what 'goes' m America 'go' here, so I'll be more careful the next time." He would have hked to enter into conversation with his fair fellow-passenger, and ask her some questions about the various points of interest thq were passing, but her aristieratic nose was still turned upward, and he did not care to take the risk -of another rebuff. But 1t was hard. work for the active, Tom to keep quiet. He finished his book, and glanced at his watch; it was only five-forty five. And the train was not due in London until nine-forty. "Confound these Enflish railway arrangements!" he muttered. "If I were in America, I'd be in a car with fifty other peoJ?le, who would tell me all I want to know, but here I am locked up with his high-ton d girl, who feels insulted if I even offer her a book. I wish somebo likely that hr had entered the compartment at some way statiorr while Tom was asleep. Paying no more 'lttention to our hero, Gussie turned again to the terrified girl, saylrig: "Now, then. me little beauty-aw-one kiss, don'tcher know. Yaw cahn't refuse that, ba Jove Yaw cahn't be so heartless!" Again the young lady struggled to free herself from the dude, whcise arm <>ncircled her waist and turned her large,. blue eye once more in mute appeal to Tom. The boy rould stand no more. He l aid his no means gently-once more upon Gus sie's shoulder "See here, didn't you hear what I told you, you cowardly ruf fian?" "Ba Jove!" faidy hissed the dude. "I s hall have to throw yaw out of the car, I see!" "No, I don't belii>ve you will," said Tom, quietly; "but tlie sooner you drop out yourself, the better." And, as the boy spoke, Gussie felt the cold muzzle of a revolver pressed against his temple. "You see I have kept the weapon," said Tom, coolly. "Now, then, r elease the young lady." "B-b-ba Jove!" exclaimed Gussie, all his valor gone, as he obeyed tht> command. ''Now," continued Tom, "go and sit in the opposite corner." Gussie did so." "Fold' your arms." The dude obPyed, without loss of time. "Now, then," said Torn, "you stay just as you are un til we r each the next station, and then I shall hand you over to the police." "No, no!" cried the girl. "N-n-n-nc, don't do that!" exclaimed Gussie, in terror. Tom paid no attention to him, but turned to the young lady. "You don't want him punished, miss?" "No; not in that way. Think of the scandal, the notoriety, sir. No; let h im go." "Y-ya-as, let me go I" added Gussie, with a look that almost made the boy laugh.


BRA VE AND BOLD. "It shall be as you say, miss," he replied, "but I think you'd better let me do as I suggested." "No, no!!' "No, no!" echoed Gussie. "She'd have her name in the papers, don'tcher know, and that would be deucedly unpleasant." "Oh, shut up!" said Tom, slangily; "you make me sick. Excuse me," he added, turning to the young lady, "but I have met this fellow before, aud the very sight of him disgusts me." "You are very excusable. I think," said the girl, with a faint smile. "B-ba Jove I" gasped Gussie, faintly. And both Tom and his fair companion laughed. Just then the sperd of the train began to slacken. "We're going to stop, I guess," said Tom. "You'd better get out, Gussie." "Ya-as, ba Jove!" drawled the dude. The tram came to 1 standstill at a small country station, and Gussie lost no time in leaving the compartment. When he reached the platform, he turned and shook his fist at Tom. "I'll see yaw yaw young cub!" he fairly shrieked. "And then, ha Jovt--" He did not finish the sentence, for at that moment a bu' rly porter, with a trunk on his shouldar, ran against him, and down he went, "head over heeJs." As he picked himself :ip, and looked for his hat, he was, per haps, the maddest dude in all England. He saw To1:i and the young lady laughing at him, in their compartmert, and hf' would probably have given vent to his feel ings in the energetic language at his command had not the signal to start the train been given. As the mortified dude scrambled into another compartment, the young lady turned to Tom. "Oh, I'm so glad he's gone!" she exclaimed. Her air of reserve had vanished and there was a pleasant, friendly smile upon her pretty face. "I'm afraid you're angry with me," she said, with a smil!! that was almost cnquettish. "Angry!" exclaimed 'om. "Why should I be?" "Well, I wasn't very polite to you when you offered me that book. YoH., see, I was afra,id to have anything to say to a stranger in a publir conveyance; but now that I know you are a gentle man, I feel differently. You are an American, aren't you?" "I am.'' "I thought so, from your accent. I like Americans so much!" ''Then I have still mother reason for being that I am an American," replied Tom. gallantly. The young lady laughed. "Won't you tell me your name?" "Certainly; it is Thomas Woods." "And mine is Beatrice Gresham." "A very pretty n;ime." said Tom, audaciously. "T suppose you are not an American?" "Oh, no; I'm English. My papa is Sir George Gresham." "A baronet!" exclaimed ou r hero, gazing upon his companion, almost with awe. The young girl talked on until the train rolled into the im mense station in London. As Tom alighted from the compartment, and assisted his fair companion to the platform, he saw Gussie Smythe glaring at them, an express10n of the utmost hatred on his weak face. In another moment the dude was gone, but Tom felt sure that he had not seen the last nf him. "I don't see papa anywhere," said Miss Gresham, looking about her; "but I think I know where I can find him. He is one of the directors of the ,cad, and I think he is in the private office. Will you wait here m;itil I come back?" "Certainly, Miss Gresham," replied 1Tom, who W<\S quite anxious to see whaf a "real, live baronet" loqked like. The girl hurried away. A moment later, Tom felt a touch upon hisshoulder, and a familiar voice said: "Tom, old man, how are you?" It was young Vinton. Tom started. did you get here?" "Came on the train." laughed Vinton. "I've been here for the last two days "But-but--'.' stammered our hero. 'But how did I get away from the police?" said Vinton. "Oh, they found out their mistake within a couple of hours." "Mistake!" "Yes. The real Tony Ra. wson turned up." "And you are not--" "Tony Rawson? Of course not. I only said I was to give you a chance to get off, for I believed that you were he. I knew that I could establish my identity easily enough when you were out of the way and I thought I could afford to make that slight sacrifice for you. But I was mighty glad to learn that you were not the emblezzler." "Not gladder than I am to know that you are not." "Well, it was a mistake all around,'.' laughed Vinton. "And, now, tell me, who is that remarkably pretty girl who just Jeit you?" In reply, Tom briefly narrated the events of his trip from Liverpool. Just then Miss Gresham came up, saying: ' Mr. Woods. let me introduce my papa, Sir George Gresham." Sir George, a st;mt, bluff, good-natured-looking old grasped our hand. "I'm glad to know you, my young friend," he said. "I like all Americans, and I certainly have a good reason to like you, after what you have done for my little Beatrice here." "Oh, that was nothing, Sir George," said Tom, blushing, diffi dently. "I must differ from you on that point," said the baronet, good naturedly. "J think you displayed a good deal of characteristic Yankee pluck. But may I not know your friend?!' Tom introduc;ed Vinton, whose hand the old gentleman shook almost "as cordially as he had Tom's. "You have friends in London?" he said, addressing our hero. The boy replied in the negative. "Where are you going, then?" "To hotel. Perhaps you wi11 kindly recommend a good one, Sir George?" "I'll do nothi11g of the son. You must go home with me, both of you !'Ii take no refusal; come along with you And before they had fairly caught their breath, the two young men found themselvi : s m the baronet's elegant carriage, on their way to his mansion. CHAPTER XIV. "r w ILL Fr.ND HER." 'Tom had hardly recovered breath, when the Gresham man sion was reachC'd, and he nearly lost it again as he entered the portals of the elegant dwe11ing. Vinton took hiB magnificent surroundings much more as a mat-


16 BRAVE AND BOLD. ter of course; and .. perhaps, our hero envied him a little that he was able to do so. "You shall be shown to your rooms at once," said the baronet. "I ordered dinner delayed until Miss Beatrice's arrival, but I presume it is nearly ready now." J;>inner at ten o'dock at night!", thought Tom "I wonder when they have breakfast?" For several days the young men remained the baronet's guests; and, had they been his most intimate 'friends, or the most distin guishtd pe o ple in the land, they could not have been treated with more consideration and deference. "Nothing seems to be too good for us," said Tom to Vinton, one evening after they had retired to their rooms. "I wonder if all of the nobility are like him?" "They an nut. by any means," replied Vinton, warmly. "I have met a good many of them in the past, and I can assure you that Sir George is much more like an Americart gentleman than a member of the nobility. And, as for his daughter, she is an angel." "Vinton," l'.'lid Tom, bluntly, "you're in love with that young lady?" His companion gazed at him a few moments in silence, an expression of p a in upon bis face The n he said: "Yes, Tom, I. am. do love her-love her as I never thought I could lov e a human being. But it is a hopeless passion." "Hopeless? Why?" said our hero. "Because she is a bar onet's nior. a thorough woman of the world, and I was but a puppet in her hands. I need not linger upon the degrading particulars of that mad marriage; suffice it to say that, a few days later, my wife. having discovered that she had been mis taken as to my income and social position, deserted me." "You WPre probably glad enough to be rid of her?" said Tom. "I was My marriagt> was a mad act; I detested the woman. Fro m that d a y to this I have not seen her. But I am still bound to h e r f<'lr our marriage was a legal one." "Bu.t the law wodd release you," suggested Tom. V i nton shook his head. "Could I ask such an angel as Beatrice Gresh a m to unite her life to that of a man with a past like mine? No, no!" And the young man's head sank upon his breast, and he re lapsed into an evidently painful reverie. Suddenly the sound of voic:es out5ide their door attracted their attention-the voices of two of the menservants. "I tell you" one, "I'm right. Miss Beatrice's dead in love with 'in,." "In love with a fellow like that Dupont!" returned the other, scornfully. "I don't believe a word of it!" "You needn't hif you don t want to," was the response; "but hit's so, and, hif there ain't an helopement in 'igh life before many days, my name ain't Jeemes vVatkins. Think 'ow hit'll look in papers. 'The daughter hof Sir George Gresham helopes with 'er French rid1!'1 teacher.' Hit'll be a big sensation, me boy." Tom ;ind Vinton started at each other in amazement. Achille Dupont, Miss Beatrice's riding-master, was a small, elderly, weazened Fernchman, of anything but attractive appear ance, and the idea that she had eloped with him seemed absurd. But the hot-headed, impulsive Vinton sprang to his feet, flung open the door, and, seizing the astonished servant by the throat, shouted: "You villain, if you ever dare insinuate such a thing again., I'll kill you where you stand !" Attracted by the noise, Sir Qeorge came hurrying to the scene. Explanations ensued, and the garrulous servant was discharged at once. "You were hasty, my boy," said the old baronet, "but, by Jove, you did just what T should myself under the circumstanees, a!1d I can't help liking you for it." "To-morrow," said Vinton to Tom, when they were alone in their rooms again, "I shall leave thiS house. To remain here any longer. to see her every day, and know that my passion is so mad, so helpless-it is unbearable." But the next morning brought a strangely altered state of affairs. At nint> o'dock Sir George came to his guests' room, and knocked for admittance. One glance at face showed the two young men that he was intemely agitated. "She's gone!" he gasped, as he sank heavily into a chair. "What do you mean?" cried Vinton, excitedly. "Who is gone, Sir George?" "My child-Beatrice l Her bed has not been slept upon, a note in her handwriting has been found in her room, 'stating that she eloped with that wretch, Dupont. My God l the humiliatiop of it!" "It is not true!" cried Tom, in a thrilling voice. "It is a vile plot! The nott is a forgery: Miss Beatrice has not eloped; she has been abducted. But I will find her, Sir George, a!M bring her back to you." The boy little gutssed the perils that he was destined to un dergo in the pursuit of his chivalrous purpose. CHAPTER XV. '!'OM GAINS A CLEW. Sir George Gresham seized Tom's hand, and pressed it convulsively saying: "Y 0 are right, my boy; Beatrice is inc a pable of such an act, and T wa$ to suspect her for an instant." "I think you were, Sir George." "I am sure of it," added Vinton, warmly. "Miss Beatrice is an angel what could she have in common with a creature like Dupont? It is as Tom says-she is the victim of an infernal plot!" "I have n<'ver liked the fellow," said the baronet, "but I did not dream him capable of such an act as this. He was a skillful rider, was highly recommended, and I never regarded him as anything more than a servant. The wretch! Had I suspected for an instant what was in his foul mind, I would have killed


BRAVE AND BOLD. 17 him l But enough of this-it is but a waste of valuable time. The police must be notified." "The s oo n e r, the better," said Vinton. "Allow me to perform that task, Sir George." And the young mau hurried away, while Tom turned to the baronet. "Well!"' "Sir George," a s ked the boy, "may I question your servants?" "For what pu11lose ?" "To learn if possible, if they know anything that can throw any light upon mystery "You ha v e a suspicion ? "I su s pect that woman, Felice Duval.''. The baronet stared at his young companion "Miss B eatrice 's maid?" "Y eii, Sir Ge o rge "Nonsense!" and Sir George smiled, in spite of his grief. ""\!Vhy, Tom, the idea is preposterous! She was devoted to Beatrice. "I overheard a portion of an intervi ew between her and Dup ont. the day yesterday." "Ah!" "Yes. They did not know that any one was within earshot. Mis s Beatri ce had 1us t returned from her morning ride, having b ee n accompanied by Dupont. I heard the woman ask the riding teacher: 'Is everything ready?' He replied: 'Nearly; in a day or t wo W<' will give them a grand surprise.'" els e did you overhear?" questioned the baronet, with evident interest. "That is all that I c ould understand, Sir George; after that the y began talking in French. They were, evidently, a good deal int e re s t e d anard of Mi s s B eatrice' s dis a ppearance, it returned to me, and I felt sure that it had reference to it." "I am not yet ready to agree with you, my boy nor do I wish to d i spute the correctness of your conclusion. You shall ques t ion the servants, if you like; but what do you expect to gain by so d o i ng? If thi<> w o m a n Felice Duval, is as shrewd as you think her, sh e will b e hr too shre wd to crimmate by m aking any indi s creet reply." "True, sir; but I wan t to study her face, her 'manner to see h ow she will s t a nd b e ing e xamin e d on the subject." "Very well Tom, you shall h<1ve your way in the m atter; but I grant the re ques t more to please you than because I have much faith in your theory." "The re s ult may prove wh ether I am right or not, Sir George The b a r o net at once gave orders to his valet, Thompson, to h a v e the v a rious domr.stics c o nn e cted with the establi s hment as s e m b l e d tog ether in tl-ie s erv a nt s' hall, and ten minutes lat e r they w e re th e r e a w a itir i g their emp lo yer s orders. As Tom en tere d the room, accompanied by Sir George, the first fac e that m e t his eyes was that of the maid, Felice Duval. She wa s a tall, d ark, rather handsome girl, of about twenty s e ven or eig ht, and her eyes met those of the b oy with an almost d e fiant stare She was the first of the servants to speak. Dro pping a curtsej to the baronet, she said : "Sir George, w'at is v reason I haf been brought here wiz 7ese peo ple? I am no servant; I am ze companion of mademois e lle .. You are a servant, like the rest," replied Sir George paughtily, ;-; .-.:;. '\md you have been asked to come here with the others because my young friend here wishes to a s k a few questions of you all:" "Ask me questions?" sa id the woman shrilly. About w'at ?" "About Miss Beatrice s disappearance, replied Tom, a s the baronet made no immediate response. "About z e mademoiselle s disappearance? W'at I know zat? You t'ink zat I haf stol e n her, eh?" "No one thinks anything of the sort, s aid Tom, with as much politeness as he could contmand. "I only want to see if I canuot gain some clew to this mystery." Zere is no mystery," said the French woman, Mees Beatrice 'ave elope--zat is all." "It is a lie I" cried the baronet, lo s ing control of himself. You do not believe it yourself." I do believe it-I know it. "You kn ow it ? "Yes, I know zat she love Achille Dupont-oh, zere is no doubt of zat." And the woma n laughed, harshly. Seeing that Sir George was about to make a he:ited reply, Tom begged him, by a glan ce, to be silent. 'Then, turning to the Frenchwoman, he said : "Dupont was a great fri end of yours, was he not?" Again the woman laughed. A friend of mine? N en non ; an acquaintance--nozing more "Hurriph l You and he seemed to be on pretty confidential terms. The French maid looked sh a rply at the boy. "I know not w'at you mean. I s pe k wiz thim two-t'ree timezat is all." "Will you inform me what yo meant by what I overheard you say to him the other day?" "\V'a! you have overhear?" snapped Felice. In reply, Tom repeated the brief dialogue which he had al ready r e hear s ed to Sir George. As the woman listen e d, her face grew p a le, and her dark eyes flashed. I nevair say zat-it is one lie I" she almost screamed "Sir G eo rge, I 'l.m insulted. I quit your service. And sh P flounc e d out of the ro om. "G ood," murmure d Tom; "I have a clew; I was not wrong. N o w for work I'' CHAPTER XVI. THE CHASE COMMENCES. "Sir Geo rge," added our hero, in a low tone, turning to the ba ro net, please do not let that woman leave the house just yet. "Very well, saip the old gentleman; "I will delay the payment of her money; there are several pounds due her, and she will not be lik ely to go until she receives the amount." "Do so, Sir George. Well, do y o u now believe that I was right?" Yes, yes ; the woman knows something of the affair-there can be no doubt of that. As soon as th e police come she shall be arrested "No, no, Sir Geor ge, d o not d o that!" cried the boy, earnestly. "Why not?" asked the baronet in surprise. "Becau s e it would give the alarm to her fellow-conspirators. This Felice Duval is not the prir1"Je mover in the enterprise. Leave it to me. I will follow her! I only want time to prepare a dis gui s e Sir G e orge lt>ft the:' room. Tom turned again to the servants, who had been conversing, in low t o nes, by themselves. and asked them a few more question!.. ..


. 18 BRAVE AND BOLD . ; . . They replied readily enough for the boy was a favorite with all o f. them, But it app a rent to Tom, after a very few minutes that-as he had suppos ed from the first-they knew nothing more about their young mistress' disappearance than he did himself. But they all evidently as he did, that Felice Duval was in the conspiracy of which Achille Dupont was the ringleader. It was a de e p laid, long-considered plot, of which these simpl e m i nded pecpie wen entirely innocent of any knowledge; that was plain enough : After l? few minutes spent in questi o ning them, he return e d to Sir G eo rge s_ study. "The woman refu s es to iemain in the house another hour, s aid the paro11et. "She is in her room now, packing her clothes. Of c ourse, I cannot force lier to stay Tom, bu t the police--" "Her arres t, I am sure Sir George, said Tom, earnestly, "might de s troy the only chance we have of solving the mystery of M iss Beatrice 's disappearance Let her leave the house as soo n a s s h e will sir; rest as s ured, I shall not lose sight of her." "It shall bt> as you say, Tom." At this ll}Oment the French maid entered the room, dressed for the street, a arge vali s e in her hand. I am go ing, Sir she said with only a very faint s h ow of re spect. Vill y o u gif me my m o ney? " Certainly: I will write Y,o u a check at once," r e plied the b a ronet. As he turned t o h is d e sk, T o m ha s tily l e ft the room. A few moments later he stood in a spot within view of the baroil et s mansion, where he could be s h e ltered from ob s erva ti o n a w aiting the app eara nce of the Fre11ch maid "Now s ee," he murmured wh ether Young America i sn t more than a ma tc h for villainy like this. 1 I have .an idea t hat i t is It'; 1 pity I didn t have a chance to get a di s gui s e r eady; but no matter-they s h a n t get the best of me, anyhow." But he had t0 w a it nearly twenty minutes before the French w o m a n appeared. F e lice Duv al ga zed a bout h e r on all sid e s as if suspecting that s he might' be watched; but Tom took good care to keep out of the range of h e r v i s ion, and s he had, evidently, no suspicion of his n earnes s A fter staring up and d o wn the stre et a few moments, s he w alked rapidl y away, Tom following her. Sev e ral times s h e turne d a n d l,ooked behind her but T o m was quick e nough t o elu de her ob s ervati o n ; and sh e c o ntinued her w ay until s he reached a public thoroughfare in which a number of cabs were standing. She whisp ered a f e w word s to the of one of the vehicles, '"lltered the cab, and was rlriven swiftly away. Sca rcely had she started, when Tom rushed up to one of the o th e r drivers saying breathlessly: "You saw the cab that just left?" The man stared at him, rubbed hi s e ye s s l eepi ly, and repli e d, s lowly : I seed hit; w 'at hof hit?''. Can y o u ,follow it?" I could but--': "Two p0unds if you don t lose sight o f it until it reaches its destination." In an instant "cabby s" sleepy d eme anor had vani s hed. "Jump ; hiu, sir, hand be quick, hif yer please, they've got a good start hof us a ready ." Tom lost not an inst ant in obeying the injunction ,. and a Q'IOment later was whfrling down one of the most crowded of Lon d o n's many crowded thoroughfares. He peered out of the but the street was thronged with vehicles of all sorts, and he could not distinguish the one whh:h Felice Duval had taken. But he knew, from the course the cab was pursuing, that the driver's were upon it, and he leaned back in his seat and tried to restrainhis 1mpatience. After half an hour' s drive, the vehicle came to a standstill in one of the most crowd e d quarters of Whitecha pel. "Is the c a p within sight?" asked Tom, breathlessly. "Hit's gone-hit was hover yonder, sir; but don t yer worry; I to o k good car e that the young woman as got hout didn't know she was follered. I ve done this kind o' work afore. "Where is sh e?" demanded Tom. She went inter the Tiger. "The what?" "The Tiger-hit's a public ou se. Yer d o n t know Whiteeh'!pel sir, or yer'd know the Tiger. "What sort of a place is it?" a s k e d the boy. The cabman shook his head "There ain t no wuss hin hall London. I wouldn't adwi s e a young gent lik e you ter go hinter the plac;e. Hit's a thieves' den -that' s wot hit h i s " I mu s t go into it Thank you. Here's your m o ney ." And the boy sprang from the cab. "This 'ere's a queer lark ," muttered the man a s he re a scended t o his box "A young sw ell like him a-fo 1 1 e rin' a furrin youn g w o man ter Whitech a pel and. heven hinter the Tiger! Well, hit ain't n one o' my busine s s." A s the c::b drov e a w ay, T o m s t oo d and critically surveyed the exte rior of the "Tiger." Certainly the appear a nce of the pla c e and o f the pe o ple was any t hing but prepossessing. "It' s a tough-looking den," murmured the b o y "But I ve g o t to get inside it and that quickl y First, however, I must have a disguise. How shall I g e t it?" CHAPTER XVII. IMPORTANT INFORMATION. It was neces >ary for Tom to procure a disguise in some man man er, and that quickly But how coul,d he do it? While standing undecided upon the p a vem e nt, his eyes fell upon a boy of about his own age, who stood curiously surveying him-a bov clothed in rags, and covered with dirt-ev idently a child of the gutter. An ide;i oc curred to our h e r o He approach e d the boy. I want re make 11 bargain with you, he s aid. The lad stared at him. "W'at?" Tom repeated the remarlv "W'at kind of a bargain? Want an errand done?" No no. I want a di s guise "A which?" A I'm out O';t a lark, you und e rstand, and I want to chang e clothe s with you ." Change clothes with me? You?" And the b u y at him, as if doubting the evidence of his se nses "Yes." "Give me them there swell togs for the s e here things?" Yes "That's a queer kind of a lark, but I'm will i n if you are."


I BRA VE AND BOLD. "Then where shall we go to change them?" cried Tom, impa tiently. "In yonder-that's where I sleep." And he pointed to a dark, dingy cellar at the head of the steps of \yhich chey were standing. In a few moments the change 6 clothes was effected. When he entered the "Tiger" no one who had ever seen him before would have recognized him. Clothed in rags from head to foot, his hands and face be grimed with dirt, he looked fully as wretched as the owner of the clothes he wore. The room, a brge one, was crowded with men and women, who were seated at little tables, drinking. All wen: plainly of the lowest and most degraded class. Tom's quick eye glanced over the assemblage; and fa:>tened itselt on Felice Duval. The Frenchwoman was seated at one of the tables, in com pany with a stout, elderly man, with whom she was conversing excitedly Tom swaggered up, and took a seat-luckily vacant-at the next table, where he could overhear all that they said. But he was scarcely seated, when a waiter laid a hand upon bis shoulder. '.'Get out o' here, yot1 !" "What for?" whined Tom. yer money?" Tom produced a coin. "I want a glass o' ale." "Here's a sixpence that a swell cove give me fer runnin' an er rand fer h'im." The waiter seized it, and started off to draw the ale. The couple at the next t:tble, who had suspended their con.: versation tc lis ten tu this brief dialogue, now resumed it. "That's all there is about it," said the man. "It ain't no use your growling-they're gone." "But Achille began the Frenchwoman. "I know," interrupted her companion, "that he promised to wait till he sa'f you. But he thought it wasn't safe, and so he got out." "And left me to follow him alone?" Our hero's cours..e was plainly to follow the Frenchwoman, and he had now .imple time in which to make all his preparations. He returned at once to the cellar, where he found the boy awaiting him. In a few minutes a re-exchange of clothes was made; and, having paid thf lad a sovereign he had promised him, Tom left the place. Soon after he reached the more aristocratic part of the city, on his way back to Sir George Gresham's mansion, he ran into a fashionabty-dressed young fellow, who exclaimed, as he recov ered from the shock: "B-ba Jove!" "Oh, it's you, is it, Gussie?" said Tom, recognizing his old an tagonist. "Ya-as, ba Jove, it is, and I'll give yaw reason to remember me this time, don'tcherknow !" Like many dudes, Gussie had taken boxing lessons, and thought he "knew it all." So out went his right fist, and if it had hit Tom it wuuld probably have hurt him. But it didn't. It hit nothing but just at the moment when it ought to have come in contact wi1h the boy's head something struck Gussie, and down he went. Tom knew something about the manly art, too. As the dude picked himself up, and brush e d the dust from his clothes, he shouted: "I'll make yaw sorry for this, ba Jove! But Tom did not hear him; he wa

20 BRA VE AND BOLD. 'When they were ready to leave tbe mansion, the baronet had not returned, and they reluctantly took their leaving a brief note, informing him cf their destination. Tickets and passports were procured, and in due time Dover, the nearest point of the English coast to France, was reached. "We've got to look out for disguises, for Felice Duval, the Frenchwoman, will be on the steamer, and it won't do to have her recognize us," said Tom. "True." "Let's see about the disguises the first thing, and then we'll do our sight-seeing." The disguises were procured, m2re easily than they had anticipated, at a local costumer's-a couple of wigs and mustaches and a pair of side-whiskers, the latter of which were donned by Vinton. \"!hen they once more reached the steamer, about half an hour before the time of its departure from the shores of England, Vinton drew a lo. ng breath of relief. "At last!" he murmured. "In a few hours we shall be in France, and then--" "And then," said Tom, finishing the sentence for him, "we'll the English detectives that a couple of nervy young Americans can do more than all Scotland Yard put together." "I hope so," returned Vinton. "Anrl I know so. Now, let's go into the cabin, and see if we can fincl our French friend, Felice Duval." Vinton grasped his companion's arm, whispering in his ear: "Hush I There she is!" Torn looked in the directio1' in which V.inton's eyes were fixed, :>.nd beheld the Frenchwoman pacing the deck, with short, quick steps. After a time, the two youths went to their stateroom, where they rernai'tled for some time, resting from their "tramp." Just befort> the steamer sailed, Vinton returned to the deck, lca\ ing Tom in a half doze in his berth. Scarcely had the young man stepped upon the deck, when he e bscrved a tall, pbinly-dresscd individual regarding him atten tively. For some minutes this man stared at him, in a manner so i::;.arker1 that Vinton, who at first pretended not to notice him, turne1 and confronted him, an inquiring look upon his face Al this the stranger stepped forward, and addressed him: Your name is Vinton, I think?" The young man hesi tated. "Is 1t, or is it not?" persisted the unknown. "Well, if it is, what then?" inquired Vinton, "If it is. let me a'>k you why you are disguised?" "That is my business," returned the youth. "You don't seem to grasp the situation; you are my prisoner." "Your prisoner?" gasped Vinton. "Yes; I am a detective. I have follow.:d you all the way from London." "And upon what ch;irge do you arrest me,,, "Upon tl)e charge of complicity in the abduction of Sir George Gresham's daughter." Vinton laughed aloud. 'You never made a bigger mistake rn your life." "That remains to be seen." "I thought 1 he police believed that she had already eloped with Dupont?" "Some do, and some do not; I happen to be one of the latter cl<1ss. Now, you'd better take this thing quietly, and come along with me. There's no time to be lost. Come along; in another minute the steamer will be off, and I don't propose to go with you to Calais. Come." And he laid !us hand upon the young man's arm. Vinton hesitated a moment. He knew that resistance would be useless, and he decided to attempt none. Nothing had been said about Tom, and he quickly resolved to make no reference to the boy, feeling sure that if he did so, his friend. too, would be made a prison So he said, quietly: "I will go with you And, followed closely by the detective, he marched down the gangplank only a moment before it was drawn m. CHAPTER XIX. UNCONGENIAL TR/\VET.ING COMPANIONS. While Tom going through these adventures m Europe, things w<"re happening in New York at a lively rate. As may be imagined, the compact between Mrs. Smythe and the alleged widow of the millionaire was not productive of agreeable results The adventurt:ss managed affairs with a high hand. She assumed control of everything, ruled the servants with a rod of iron, and completely put Mrs. Smythe in the background. She had a ready fund of wit, of a coarse kind, and she aimed her shaft<; of ridicule so unceasingly at Gussie, who, as we have seen, was not apt at repartee, that she actually drove the dude out of the country. At last, Mrs. Smythe reached the point where she felt that she could endure no more. Even an occa1'1 voyage, which she dreaded greatly, was preferable to the further companionship of the ad venturess, and she decided to surrender the custody of the house to her. "Been ou1 for a walk, eh?" said the alleged widow, as Mrs. Smyth" entered the drawing-room one morning. "And only ten o'clock! Dear me! I wish I were an early riser like you. 'Why, I've only just finished my breakfast. and I thought :P was making pretty good time at that. Why didn't you wake me up and give me an invitation to go with you?" Mrs. Smythe glared at her companion as if she would have liked to scratch her eyes out-as she probably would-but she re plied, with forced calmness: "I just telegraphed my son that I would join him in London." "Great Scutt! And you're willing to leave the house in my possession ?" "I am.'' "Because you can't help yourself," laughed the woman. "Well, you mu s t want to get away from me pretty badly." Mrs. Smythe's lips parted, to make a bitter reply, but with a strong effort controlled herself, and swept from the room, fol lowed by the ringing laugh of the woman she hated. ''I'll worry her a little more yet," muttered the adventuress. "Confound her, and her airs! I'm as good as she is, any day in the week, and l'll make her feel it before I get through with her." And she lighted a cigarette, and remained in a contemplative mood for somt time. The preparations for Mrs. Smythe's journey were quickly made; and on the evening of the third day after the conversa tion just her carriage was at the door, waiting to convey her to the steamer As she descended from her room to take her departure, the ad veoturess emerged from the drawing-room.


BRAVE AND BOLD. 21 "Off, ch?" There w as an expres sion upon the woman's face that Mrs. Smythe did not understand-a smile playing about the corners of her mouth-a look of suppressed amusement. "I am about to leave," was the cold reply. "The steamer sail s at an early hour in the morning, and I prefer to remain on board overnight "Yes, that's better for ladies of luxurious habits, like yoll and me, than getting up before sunrise. Well, a1' revoir, as they say in French. Take good care of yourself-don't get seasick, and be sure not to forget to give my love to dear Gussie." Mrs. Smythe hurried out without making any response. In another moment her carriage had rolled away. The adventuress returned to the drawing-room, seated herself in an easy-chair and burst into a profound fit of laughter. "This is rich! She little imagines what a glorious surprise is in store for her. This is the advantage of being rich and able to indulge in your capricious whims." When Mrs. Smythe arose in the morning, the steamer was off Sandy Hook. It was with a deep sigh of relief that Mrs. Smythe reflected that every moment increased the distance between her and the woman she hated But as she emerged froni her stateroom into the cabin, she starte d back, with an i1tvoluntary exclamation of astonishment and d i smay And no w onder, for, seated directly in front of her stateroom door, a paper-covered novel in her hand, wa s the very woman from whom she was fleeing! The adventuress arose and ex claimed, with an affect11tion of great cordiality; "My dear Mrs. Smythe, what a delightful meeting! I came on board only an hour after you last evening. And just think! my stateroom-which I engaged two days ago-is next yours Isn't i t charming? I don't suppose you know a soul on board; neither do I ; how much we shall enjoy each other' s society!" M r s Smythe was about to reply, when an expensively but flashily-dres s ed man, of perhaps thir. ty, sauntered up, and, extending h is hand said: "Why, Nance, how are you?'.' The adventuress turned ghastly pale "Dick Danton !'! she gasped. "Why, c ert, it's your old friend Dick. won' t you take my hand?" The woman ;llowed her hand to rest ip. his palm. She seenl:d unable to speak. "What's this one of the officers was just telling me," the fellow went on, "about your being the widow of a Fifth Avenue swell ? How's that? What has Syd got to say about it? Who--" The adventuress, who was beginning to regain her composure, s ilenced him by a glance which h e s eemed to immediately under s tand "What are you talking about, Dick? How have you been ? Come, gi v e me your arm, and Jet s go on de ck, and talk over old t i mes." As the couple moved away, Mrs. Smythe gazed after them, with a baleful look. "What was the meaning of that agitation? You wretched woman, I will know it s meaning. I will see that man; he shall t ell me your secret. In the meantime the adventuress and her companion were en g a g ed in a11 excited dialogue. "You nearly gave me away!" hissed the woman. "How the mischief did I know ? Say what does thi s mean, anyhow? Where' s Syd? " Dead," was the reply, after a moment 's h es itation. Her companion laughed Oh, no; that don't go. He' s no more dead than I am So y ou're posing as the widow of a millionaire ?" I am the widow of a millionaire! " Oh, don't try to be funny with me, Nance; you ought to know me better. Now, then, you know I'm biz all through, and a yard wide. Let' s get right to the point; what do I get for not squeal ing? " I will come to the point-five thou sand dollars." "It won't do; make it ten. " I'll do it." Done! 1 That's the way I like t o do busif\ess. When do I see the shekeB ?" "When we reach the other side." All right." "In the meantime, not a word n o t a hint to that woman; she i s my late husband's sister." "Oh, that's all right-I won't talk; you know me well enough for that." I may depend upon you?" "Of cour s e you may; how many times do you want me to tell you?" I believe you, said the adventures s "But, she added, as she walked away, "I'd give double the ten thousand dollars if I met you here. Just my luck! What a fool I was to at+ t e mpt this journey!" CHAPTER XX. DICK DANTON S DISA?PEARANCE. Mrs. Smythe found an opportunity a few morning s later, to have an interview with Dick Danton before her enemy had arisen. They had already been introduced by the ad v entures s but had not exchanged a word, except in her pres ence M eeting Danton upon the main deck, Mrs. Smythe drew him a s ide, and said: "May I have a few words with you?" The fello\V was on guard in a moment. "Certainly," he replied, as he seated himself by the lady's side. "Have you known that-that woman long?" she asked, her face and accents showing all the hatred she felt toward her sister-in law. "What woman? inquired Danton, cautiously. You know whom I mean ," was Mrs Smythe s impatient re joinder. Well," admitted Danton "I s uppose I do. I have known her for a number of years." "Humph! Under what circumstances?" I think I must decline to answer that question." Suppose I make it worth your while to do so?" "I doubt that you could, madam." "Why do you doubt it? I am a wealthy woman, and I should be still wealthier were it not for her." I under s tand. She turned up as your brother s widow just as you thought yourself s ure cif the fortune?" "Yes." Well ac c ident s will happen, laughed Danton, coarsely. "Tell me one thing," almost whispered Mrs. Smythe, "who is the 'Syd' of whom you spoke to her?" Danton's expression changed. I


22 BRA VE AND BOLD. "What will you pay?" "If thr information rids me of this woman, and her claims, I will give you t0went) thousand dollars." Danton's eyes glistened. "Meet me here to-night at nine o'clock." "Why not tell me now?" "Hush!' ''"Why, good-mornitJg F' sounded the voice of the woman about whom they were talking. "Having a pleasant tete-a-ti'te-isn't that the swell name for it ?-I see." Where she h;, d come from, neither of the couple could imagine. She appeared as suddenly as if she had sprung up from the deck. Mrs. Smythe arose to her feet. "Why, dear me," went on the adventuress, who seemed per fectly cool and collected. "what's the matter with you two? You look as guilty as ii you had been conspiring against me. Ha. ha, ha! Shan't we go in to breakfast, my dear sister-in-law?" With a meaning glance at Danton, Mrs. Smythe followed the woman into the cabin. Danton did not keep his apuointment with Mrs. Smythe, and the next mornmg it wa!i noised through the ship th a t Mr. Danton-who had been quite a favorite with many of the male passengers-had suddenly and disappeared. No one could be fou'nd who had seen him since about o'clock the previous evening. The vessel sea/ched for him, but he had vanished. It was finally concluded that he had fallen overboard, though how the accident could have happened, the night being clear and the sea calm, was incomprehensible to every one. Mrs. Smytht was convinced that, if any person on board could solve the mystery of Dick Danton's disappearance, that person was her s:ster-in-law. But suspicions were not proofs, and she was forced to hold her peace though she would gfadly have accused the woman had she dared. The remainder of the voyage ws uneventful. Mrs. Smythe shunned thf> adventuress as much as she possibly could, and the woman, as 111 New York, amused herself by annoying her "swell" relative in every way in her power. When the vessel reached Liverpool, the two women went their separate Mrs. Smythe being met by Gussie at the wharf "We shall meet again the parting words of the turess, as she flung a kiss at the horrifi e d Gussie and his mamma. "Don't forg,.t me in the meantime. Ta, ta!" Meanwhile Tom had started on his voyage to Calais. The motion of tht" steamer aroused him from his slumbers, and he hur(ied to the deck The chalk cliffs of Dover had now disappeared in the gloom, but thf> lights of the town were still visible. 'Tom looked everywhere for Vinton, but, of course, could not find him. He was becoming very uneasy, when a gentleman who had wit-"' nessed the young man's arrest approached and informed him of the occurrence "Arrested!" gasped f he boy. "For what?" "It was -;omething in connection with this elopement of Sir George Gresham's daughter." Then Tom understood that Vin t on had refrained from notify ing him, fearing that he would share his fate. "He will easily prove his innocence, h e murmured, "and will foll o w me. But in the m e antime I may succeed in overtaking vilbins a nd saving B e atrice. C onfound t he s tupidity of Eng lis h police! One Yankee lad is worth a dozen of them." With this bit of perhaps pardonable conceit, Tom began pacing the deck He had not taken a dozen steps before h e started :back .. in surprise Seated near him, engaged in conversation, were Mrs. Smythe, Gussie and the woman who had professed to be his foster -father's widow The adventuress and her two relatives by marriage had been thrown together again. Tom's first thouiht was that they w o uld recognize him, but as '1Gussie stared up into his face evidently not aware of his identity, he rem e mbered his disguise. The shon voyage was uneventful, except that the channel was even rougher than usual aud m6st of the passengers were sea sick. They were a woe begone looking lot when they landed at Calais the next morning, particularly Gussie Smythe, who had been, perhaps thl sickest man on and could hardly walk. CHAPTER XX!. TOM IN PARIS. Felice who had been standing nervously await ing the opportunity to disembark, hurried down the gangplank and rushed off in the direction of the train for Paris, which was awaiting the traveler'. Tom follower! her at a more leisurely pace, for he knew that there was no danger of their being left, but he took good care not to lo5e sight of her. She entered a sernnd-class carriage, and he followed her and seated himself ')pposite her. She gave hiTP one sharp look, but Tom saw that she did not penetratf h i s disguise; then she relapsed into a reverie While awaiting the d eparture of the train, our hero saw Gussie Smythe. pal" a11c. woe-begone from his recent experience, pass the window on his way to a first-class carriage, leaning heavily on the ant' of his mC>ther, whose face was full of solicitude for his welfare. And behind t hem walked the adventuress, Mrs. Maxwell, smil ing very broadly at the dude. ,For a time the Frenchwoman, who, beside Tom, was the only occupant of the railroad carria:;l'e. sat apparently buried in medi tation Then her eyes closed and she fell into a doze. Ufitil the tram reacht>d Paris she remained asleep but when it c a me to a stand3till she was wide awake in an instant. Her dark eyt> blazing with furious anticipation. she seized the little traveling-bag that lay upon the seat beside her, and descended froTP the carnage. With quick. nervous steps she hurrie d away, followed by Tom. Ilut again our hero was des tine d to have an encounter with Gussie Smythe. So great was his an x iety not to lose sight of Felice Duval, that he was oblivious to all his surroundings. Gussie. who had evidently recovered from his temporary in disposition. and was ready for a new career of conquest, was bowling along, swinging his big stick in all directions, regardless of the convenienc-e of his fellow-travelers. Tom in haste, got withm range of the stick, which every one els e in the vicin i ty was trying to avoid and received a blow from it just under the chin. This arous e d him to a re alizing sense of his position. and a ls o the temper whii-h. as the rea de r is aware, was a part -:: h;s m a h-,up. ' Confounu you!" he excbimed, addressing Gussie, who had


B RA VE AND BOLD. looked ar.ound in indignation that any one should have ventured within six feet of him, even in a crowded railway station; "why don't you keep your cane to yourself?" For the moment he forgot his disguise, and "gave himself away." A light appeared in Gussie's eyes. "B-ba Jove!" he exclaimed, "it's that little beggah, Tom Woods." Mrs. Smythe glared at the boy. "So it's you, is it, you young scoundrel?" she hissed. "What does this masquerading mean?" "Ba Jove!" went on Gussie, "he's got on a false mustache. He's following us, mamma, don'tcher know?" "So I perceive," responded Mrs. Smythe, with all the she could assume. "Now, see here, young man," she added, turn ing to Tom and seizing him by the coatsleeve, "I want you to understand that I will not endure this sort of thing, and that if you persist in following my son and myself I shall hand you over to the police." This little scene had created a block, and murmurs both loud and deep arose from the throng. In the mean.time Felice Duval was making her way out of the depot, and Tom was growing decidedly nervous. "I am not following you," he said, "and for your own sake I advise you not to attempt to hand me over to the police." As he spoke he pushed through the crowd and made the best of his way to the entrance through which Felice Duval had just disappeared. But his words alarmed Mrs. Smythe not a little. Grasping her son's arms, she exclaimed in an agitated voice: "Gussie, darling." "Ya-as, mamma." "He knows about the will; at least he suspects." "Yaw think so?" "Lose not a moment. Follow him, see where he goes, and then return to me You will find me at the Hotel A---." This was enough for the dude; he started off at a double-quick pace. Tom, in the meantime, had reached the outside of the depot, hut Felice Duval had disappeared. Pale with chagrin, he gazed in all directions, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. In his rage he felt like turning back and giving Gussie a sound thrashing. Suddenly a sight met his gaze which caused him to forget all about the dude. There was a block in the throng of vehicles surrounding the station, and among the carriages were several coupes. From the window of one of these the head of a woman protruded, and a sharp voice addressed some question to the probably a query as to the cause of the delay. It was the face and the voice of Felice Duval. Just at this moment the vehicle-a heavy truck-which had blocked the way, moved on, and the coupe started. Hurriedly approaching one of the dozen or more hackmen who stood near the entrance to the station, Tom asked: "Can you follow that coupe yonder?" The man shrugged his shoulders and spread out his hands, with a deprecatory smile, and Tom suddenly remembered that he was not in an English-speaking country. There was not another instant to be lost. He would follow the vehicle on foot! In pursuance of this resolutipn our hero started at the top of his speed after the carriage. At the same moment Gussie emerged from t!ie station, and, catching sight of the boy, jumped into one of the cabs, saying to the driver, in very tolerable French: "Follow that boy-don't Joie sight of him!" CHAPTER XXII. IN THE SLUMS OF PA!tlS. Had it not been for the fact that the street was so densely crowded that the driver of the coupe containing Felice Duval was forced to bring his vehicle to a standstill every few minutes, it is doubtful that Tom could have followed the Frenchwoman. While standing in front of a cafe, out of sight of the Frenchwoman, he was surprised to see the face of Gussie Smythe peer ing at h1n1 from tlie window of a carr' iage. In an instant it flashed upon him that the dude was shadowing him, as he was shadowing Felice Duval. He was more amused than angry at this discovery, and also a little puzzled as to Gussie's motive in following him. He quickly decided to throw his pursuer off the track. It was evident that the throng of vehicles could not move on for some minutes; he resolved to risk losing sight of the Frenchwoman for a brief time for the sake of thwarting Gussie. Accordingly he started off at a rapid pace for the next street, and as he disappeared around the corner had the satisfaction of seeing the dude leap out of the cab and toss a coin to the driver. He had scarcely turned the corner when he darted into a store -a baker's-the first he came to. The next moment Gussie rushed by in great excitement, and Tom saw his lips form the familiar words: "Ba Jove!" Having made >ome trifling purchas e our hero hurried from the store. As he stepped out he saw Gussie at some distance down the street standing and gazing about him in evident bewilderment. It was easy enough for Tom to escape his observation and to re-enter the main thoroughfare, where the vehicles were now beginning to move on. An idea occurred to him. He signaled the driver of the coupe just vacated by Gussie, and strove by pantomime to make the man understand that he wanted him to follow Felice Duval's carriage. To his surprise the driver interrupted him with: "Say, you ain't deaf an' dumb, are you?" "You speak English?" cried Tom. "Yes, I am English. I'm only in Paris because my wife's a Frenchwoman an' wcm't live anywhere else. But I'm no frog eater. Y o7.1 see, my family--" But Tom cut short his personal reminiscences by telling him what he wanted, and leaped into the carriage. Perhaps twenty minutes later the driver reined up his horse. Tom' s surroundings reminded him of some of the worst quarters of New York and Boston. "This is a tough neighbor hood, sir," said the driver, in a low tone. "If you are not acquainted in Paris, I don't like to leave you here. There isn't a neighborhood in London the equal of this." "I'm not in the least afraid," interrupted Tom. "vVhere is 'the \\1oman ?'1 "There she goes yonder, sir; but if I were you I \vouldn't fol low her in that direction; it may be as much as your worth." But Tom again interrupted him impatiently, inquired the


,-. BRA VE AND BOLD: .amount of his fare, paid him, and hurried away in the direction taken by Felice Duval, who was now some distance ahea d of him. Never, with all experience as a street waif, had Tom wit nessed such scenes of degradation as now met his eyes as he hurried on in pursuit ot the wo man, who, with quick, nervo us tread, was plunging into the very /nidst of the slums. Fehce Duval evidently as a pre cautionary measure, had dis missed her carriage at some distance from the objective p o int of her journey. At last. when perhap s a hundre d ro0ds from our h e ro, she paused gave :.i quirk look around h e r, and disappeared in a dingy, ancient-looking brick building, the door of which stood op en Tom quickened his pace, and in a few minutes entered the d ark hallway into which Felice Duval had disappeared. Not a sound di s turbed the stillness of the building; the silence seemed, to the boy's excited and overstrained imaginati o n, alm os t ominous. With noiseless footsteps he ascend e d the flight of stairs that confronted him and occupied nearly the entire width of the dark hallway. \Vhen he reached its head the sound o{ voices in excited dis cussion met his ears. His heart gave a bound, for he recognized th!! v o ices as those of Felice Duval and Achille Dupont, the riding teacher The couple were evidently in a room at the rear of the house. Tom hurried to the door and listened intently Every word that was uttered was distinctly audible to him. "Now you keep cool, my lady," he heard Dupont say, "and I'll teli you all <1bout it." "Why do you not speak in ze French?" hissed th,e woman. "In the fi:-st place, because one language is the same as the other to me,'' w:i,s .the reply, "and in the second place, because I don't care to have' our conversation under stoo d by others." "Who could overhear u, ?" "Old Marianne is in the next room, but she doe sn't understand a word of English. I don't care to let her know too much." "Enough! Well, go on with your explanation-which I fore s e e will be no explanation at all. You promised not to leave Landres without me ." "I know it, but I had to. You are here, we are together again, so what differet'!e does it make?" "You meant to play me false." "I did not; I needed you, the girl needed you, and does now." "Ah! Where is she?" "In the next room with old Marianne." CHAPTER XXIII. IN THE ENEMY'S POWER. Tom could not doubt that the girl to whom the two wretches referr'.!d was Beatrice Gresham. His first impulse was to rush into the room and attempt her rescue at once. But, realizing that such an attempt could only result in failure, he restrained his impatience, and with wildly beating heart listened. "Why did you have to leave Londres wizout me?" persisted the Frenchwoman. "Did you :have any trouble wiz ze girl?" "Oh, no; she was under the influence of the drug all the time." "And you are going to keep your promise to me?" "Of course I am." "I s'all have ten thousand francs?" "When Beatrice Gresham is my wife you will receive ten thousa nd francs Don't worry, Felice; you'll get the money. "If she should r e fuse?" "But she won't refu:1ty. Upon the fl, 1or knelt B ea trice Gresh a m, her beautiful hair strea ming in tangl e d luxuriance upon her naked shoulders, her lov ely eyes upturned appealingly to the face of a wrinkl e d old hag who held aloft a heavy stidc which was evidently about to descend. "Tom, Tom, is it indeed you?" cried the girl, a ray of hope her pale features. fhe next moment overcome with emotion, she sank uncon scious at the feet of her p e rsecutor. His eyes hlazing with mdi g nai on and anger, Tom rushe d for ward and wrested the weapon fro m the old woman's grasp. But scarcely had he done so when he received a blow upon the back of thf:' head which felled him to the floor, where he re mained motionlf>5f. "Well done, Achille!" cried Fel. ice in her native tongue. "He will never trouble us again." When Tom recovered consciousness, total darkness environed him Faint and bewildered he stretched out his hand. ..


BRA VE AND BOLD. 25 It came in contact with a cold, damp surface. The recollection of what had occurred slowly returned to him as he staggered to his feet. Where was he? He walked a few paces, and came in violent contact with a stone wall. In a few moments he discovered that he was imprisoned in a circular dungeon, not more than eight feet in diameter. He did not guess tht: awful fate to which he had been con signed by the vile wretches into whose power he had so blindly rushed. CHAPTER XXIV. A MIRACULOUS INTERPOSITION. Tom was a smoker, and he suddenly bethought himself of the fact that he had a full box of matches in his pocket. He lighted one of them and gazed curiously at his surroundings. The circular walls which encompassed him were of stone and covered with slime, the floot was of cement and littered with debris. It was evidently an underground apartment. On one sidt of Lhe dungeon was a door, which the boy at tempted to open. but it resi sted all his efforts. Thi' flickering light of the match died out, and Tom was in darkness again. I A strange, owinous silence reigned. A shiver agitated the boy's frame. To wh1t fate had he been consigned by these wretches? Suddenly the sound of distant footsteps saluted his ears. They came nearer and nearer, and at last pased before the door of the dungeon. A key was inserted in the lock, and the next moment the door was thrown open. Dupont entered, a lantern in his hand. With a malic10us, triumphant smile upon his evil face, he said: "vVell, my littlE' Yankee, your cl ver scheme has miscarried, you see You have simply rushed to your own destruction, and done no good at all to the estimable young lady who will shortly become n1y wife." "Your wife!" exclaimed Tom, passionately. "Never!" Dupont laughed. "Indeed? And who will prevent it?" "I will." Again the Frenchman indulged in a harsh peal of laughter. "Do you know where yon are?" he said. "How should I know?" responded Tom, who maintained an undaunted fr011t, although he fully realized that he was in the power of a vilhin from whom he could expect no mercy. "I will tel( yo4_: you are in a cell under one of the streets of Paris, a cell made for just such purposes as this. Above your head roll of vehicles every hour, but you cannot hear them. You are in a living tomb, my young friend-a prison from which there is no escape, and here you will remain until you starve to death." It cannot be. that the s e words struck terror to Tom's heart, but in no way did he betray his feelings. "I have no fear of such a fate," he said, quietly. "You haven't, eh?" "No." As he spoke, Tom made a sudden rush for the door. But Dupont seized him by the shoulder with a grip of iron, and pressed the cold muzzle of a revolver agai n st his temple. "That'll do, my fine fellow," he hissed in the boy's ear. "You won t get away quite as easily as that. Stop!" as Tom made a movement of resistance "Keep quiet, or by heaven I'll send a bullet through your brain." Tom offered no further resistance, seeing that it would be use less and hopmg for another opportunity to effect his escape. "Now l ook well at me, Tom Woods," said Dupont, picking up his lantern, "for mine is the last human face you will ever see.'' For a few moments he stood gazing into the boy's face; then he closed and locked the heavy do or, and Tom was in darkness again. The Frenchman's footsteps grew fainter and fainter in the dis tance, and in a few moments their sound died away altogether. Then, when alone in the darkness and the silence, a full realization of his position burst upon Tom for the first time. For hours he paced the narrow confines of his dungeon, and was abo ut to resign himself to sleep once more, when the sound of footsteps again greeted his ears. Tom listened intently. Suddenly hE' heard a voice outside his door. "Tom! Tom!" It was Vinton's voice! "I am here, Vinton !" cried the boy. "Thank heaven I have found you!" returned Vinton, fervently. ''Wait a few moments, and I will get you out of this accursed place." He tried a number of keys in the lock, but none of them fitted. "Ah," said the young man, "here is an ax. Stand out of the way, Tom-I'm going to break down the door." Two or three blows shattered the lock, and the door swung open, revealing to the grateful eyes of the boy the form of his fnend. Upon the floor beside Vinton was a lighted lantern, the same that Dupont had used. .... "How did you find me?" asked Tom. "By what miracle were you guided to this place?" "tt 1 d v was a m:rac e, sa1 mton, gravely. But this is no time for explanations-I will tell you all later. We have a duty -to perform now-wt must save Miss Beatrice." Ashe is in this house, Vinton," began Tom. "I know it," interrupted the young man; "but she must not remain here a moment long e r than we can help. She is alone with an old hag now-Dupont and the Duval woman hav e gone out Now is our time to rescue her. Come!" Tom followed his friend fromthe c ell. Together they traversed a long passageway and ascended a flight of stairs, which brought them to the ground floor of the dwelling. Arrived at the head of the second flight, a loud scream saluted their ears, followed by the sound of the voice of the old woman Marianne, in angry expostulation. His facf pale with rage and excitement, Vinton put his shoulder to the door of the room in which the baronet's daughter was imprisoned. The lock broke, the door flew open, and the two young men rushed into the room. The sight that m!'t their eyes forced simultaneous cries of indignation from their lips. Jhe old hag, Ma rianne, was dragging the refined, lovely daugh ter of Sir George Gresham about the room by the hair. The poor girl, who seemed to be in a semi-conscious state was moaning and uttering incoherent pleas for mercy. As Tom and his companion entered the room the woman turned and confronted them, her eyes blazing with fury.


BRAVE AND BOLD. Vinton rushed forward and forced her to relinquish her hold upon Beatrice. She was a powerfully built, wiry old woman, and her rage lent her strength; Vinton had all he could do to defend himself . "Give me that rope, Tom;" he panted, indicating a roll of cord that lay in one corner of the room. The boy did so, and his friend to tie the old woman securely to a chair. Then, paying no attention to the hag's threats and curses, Vinton lifted the form of Beatrice, who had fainted, in his arms, saying: ''Come, Tom, the sooner we get out of this den the better." But as he spoke a footstep sounded outside, and the next moment Achille Dupont entered the room. CHAPTER XXV. RESCUED. Dupont comprehended the situation at a glance. With a fierce cry of rage he rushed toward Vinton. But just !tefore l1e reached him out went Tom's, and down went the Frenchman like a log. "Good!" exclaimed Vinton, in a voice of satisfaction. "Now, then, let s get out of this quickly, before the scoundrel recovers his senses." And he hurried from the room, bearing the inanimate form of in his arms. Tom followed him. As they emerged from the house the sound of a shot reached their cars. It chanced that just as they reached the street two gc11dar111es (French policemen) were passing. Vinton uttered a few sharp, authoritative words to them in French-of which language he was a master-and they rushed into the house The two men did not stop to see the re s ult of their visit. .. /\. cab stood near the door. and Tom recognized its driver as the man whom he had employed to follow Felice Duval. Vinton placed the unconscious girl in the vehicle seated him self by her side and motioned Tom to follow him. "I fancied that policemen seemed lo know you," said Tom. "They did." said Vinton, quietly. "::\Iy life has been an ad Yenturous one, and a year or l\\'O ago I did some confidential work for the French detective service; one of those men was an a ociate of mini! They are braYe fellows, and will stand no nonsense from Dupont." "How does it happen that you are here,,, questioned Tom. [ was told that :vou had been arrested on suspicion that yot1 were concerned in Miss Beatrice's abduction."' Vinton smiled'. "So I was, but I had a very easy time to prove my entire inno cence. Sir George himself scouted the idea, and I was released within a few hours after my arrest. Sir George, by the way, is in Paris.,, "'Sir G eorg e Gresham here!" "Ye,_ he sat the Hotel A---, where he is impatiently awaiting my return. He came because, after I told him what you di sco\'ered in London, he felt convinced that his daughter had been brought by Dupont to Paris." .. But how did you find ine, Vinton?" "Tha t i11dced almost a miracle. at the dep'lt l;> sec if I could trace you, While making inquiries fate brought me in con-tact with the driver of this hack. He remembered having driven you to the Rue ---, and informed me that he told you that the neighborhood was ;i dangerous one, and advised you to follow Felice Duval no further." "'Yes, he did." "You did not heed his advice, and in his anxiety for your wel fare-for it seems that he took quite a fancy to yon-he followed you and saw you enter the house from which I have just rescued you." "'II/ ell?" "Vhll, I told him to drive me to the place and he did so. I had no trouble in effecting an entrance; and standing outside the door of the room in which we found Miss Beatrice, I overheard a conversation between Dupont and the woman, Felice Duval." "My own experience." "By this conversation I learned that Miss Beatrice was a prisoner in that room, and that yOtJ were confined in a dungeon where it was the intention of the wretches to sta1ve you to death. Of course I resolved to save you both." "What did you do, Vinton?" "I concealed myself in a clo et in the hallway until Dupont and the woman went out, which they did in a few minutes, as I knew from their conversation they intended. Then taking a lantern that l found in the closet, I started in search of you The rest yc.u kno1Y. And let me tell you, my boy. we haYe r escued their victim 'just in time, for it was their intention to take her to the country to-morrow, to a village some fifty miles from Paris, where they believed they would be safe from pursuit, and where it was planned to force her into a marriage wit!{ Dupont." At this mommt the carriage halted in front of the Hotel A--, a house much frequented by American and English travelers. As Vinton dismounted, the still unconscious girl in his his attention 11as accidentally attracted by a face in an upper window-the face of a woman. His countenance became deathly pale, he staggered, and Beatrice would ha1e fallen from his arms had not Tom caught 111 his own. .. What's the maller, Vinton?" cried lhe boy. "Are you ill?" "It is nothing-nothing," replied Vinton, controlling himself by a mighty effort. "That is, Tom, I 11ill tell you at another time. Come, let us go lo Sir George. As thev bore the girl into the hotel they were met by the baronet, who seized his daughter in his arms and rained tears and kisse s upon her pale, immobile face. "I ll'ill take her to her room. g entlemen," s aid Sir George addre sing Vinton and Tom. ''I beg that you will come to us in an honr, and let ;ny daughter thank you in person; I am sure that by that time she will be sufticiently recovered to do so." Tom and his cornpa'nion bowed; and Vinton, drawing his arm through Tom' s, led him out of the hotel. \Vhcn they reached the sicjewalk. the young man again glance d up to the window in which he had seen the woman's face. "Gone I" he muttered. Tom gazed inquiringly at him. "I will tell you the of my emotion ju t now," Vinton said. "I saw in window a face very familiar to me in by gone days-a face which I have not seen for years." "And one ll'hich you were not particularly well pleased to s ec to-day," ventured Tom. "You are right, for it was the face of a woman who has caused me much suffering-the \\'Oman whom I married years ago." "Your wife!" exclaimed the "Shewho bears that name. boy. And if I am not mistaken, she


BRAVE AND BOLD. was no better pleased to see me than I was her. Ah, Tom! the sight o f that face recalls me to myself. I must dream no more of Beatrice I must leave Paris, and learn to forget her." A long silence followed. Later on the story of Beatrice's abduction was briefly told by the girl She had be<"n induced by Felice Duval, her maid, she had implicity trust ed, to visit a Frenchwoman in one of the poorer quart .. of London, whom Felice alleged was dying of consumption. and was a worthy object of charity. While in this woman' s room she was induced to drink a glass of wine. Scarcely a mm11te1 had passed when she felt a strange, drowsy sensation stealing nver her. She saw he1 companions curiously watching her, and the truth bur 1.1pon her The wine had bt>en drugged She to htr ft-et, but the next moment sunk into Felice Duval's arms, unconscious. After that sh1 could remember but little. Sir George urged hoth the young men to return to London with him and remain guests for an indefinite time, But both Tom and Vinton declined the kindly invitation. Vinton dared not trust himself in Beatrice's presence; and Tom, having accomplishc-d his self-imposed task, was anxious to continue his journey. As they left the baronet's presence, Sir George placed in Vin ton's hanc1 a small, square package, and in Tom's a sealed envelope. "Two trifling tokens of remembrance and gratitude," he said. CHAPTER XXVI. A STARTLING DISCOVERY. ..ttT9m and his companion went to the latter's room in the hotel. VJl!ien tliey were 'alone Vinton opened the package which Sir GeorgP had given him. It containt!d a gold watch, with diamonps. "By Jove!" exclaimed the yo1.1ng man, "Sir George is a brick. Why, this is simply magnificent. But let us see what he has given you, Tom." Our hero tore open the envelope and drew out a folded paper, inclosing a bank note. "A thousand-pound note, my boy!" cried Vinton. "Sir Ge o rge doesn't GO things by halves." For some time Tom hesitated about accepting the money, but Vinton at last induct'd him to do so. "Now then, Tom, what's your programme?" asked Vintrm. "Mv programme?" "Yes-where art' you going next?" "Vvell, I want to visit <;ome of the more import a nt French cities, the11 5" itzerland, and after that I don't know whatAustria, T suppose, though perhaps I may go back to the British Isles. My nriginal intention was to spend a good many weeks in England. Ireland and Scotland And now about yourselfwhat do you intend to do, Vinton?" "I don't know; should you object to me as a traveling companion?" "Object--" began Tom. Vinton interrupted him with a laugh. "Enough! Your face answers for you, Then we will travel together." "Agreed!" The two youths clasped hands. Fifteen minutes later, as the two friends sat in an ante-room adjoining one of the parlors, ga'zing curiously out of the window at the hurrymg throngs in the street below, Vinton started, grasped Tom'< arm, and exs:laimed: "Do you see that woman entering the carriage at the door? She is my w1k" It was Tom's tur to start now. She? You're joking, Vinton." "Vvhat do you me:m ?-have you ever seen her before?" "Indeed I have Why, Vinton, that is the woman who claims to be tht> wite of my foster-father, Mr. Maxwell." Vinton started to his feet. "Are you sure you are not mistaken?" "Of course I am." "When did she marry Mr. Maxwell?" "About a year ago, T think she said." "Then tht marriage was an illegal one, for she was my wife the n." "Then she has gottt>n possession of the fortune by fraud." "Yes. I wish to heaven that my ability to prove the fact would help you any. Tom; but unlucjcily the only one it can benefit is this Mrs Smythe, who is certainly as unworthy of the fortune as the other woman." "True." "Well, we'll let Mrs. Smythe find out the truth whenever and however she can But, Tom I" "Well?" "I must follow that woman. I must have an interview with her. She recognized me, Maxwell has gone to Switzerland-to Berne," the y were told. "I will follow her" said Vinton in a hoarse whisper to Tom, "Painful as it will be, I must have an interview with her. Will you go with me?" "Of course I will. if you wish it." "I

BRA V E AND BOLD. "I'm sure I hop e n ot snapped Mrs. Smythe Really? drawled the adventuress Oh, I'm $Ure you don t mean it. But I 've no time to stand here tal king, even to my two best friends I must pack and be off. You'll excuse me, won't you?" And with a m o ck court es y sh e swept out of the room. \Vorthle ss hu s sy! hiss ed Mrs. Smythe Gussie!" "Ya:-as, mamma." "Let's go down to the parlor, s o that we may be out of the way when she goes ." A good ideah don tcher know mamma." They descended to the parlors; and, as it happened, were in t he adjoining room when the c o nversation between Tom and Vinton regarding Vinton's wife o ccurred They both lis tened int e ntly, and once Gu ssie gav e u t terance t o a low: Ba Jove!" t A loo k fr o m hi s m other quiet e d him a nd neith e r T om nor his fri end happ e ned to h ear the exclamtion But whe n th e two young men were g on e he repeated the words: Ba-ba J ove, mamma !" Mrs. Smytl 1 e drew a l o ng breath. "She i s n o t my brother's widow at all." "And the property's all ours, don'tcher know, mamma Mrs Smythe fairly ground her teeth I wa s fool e nough to tell her about the will which l e a v es th e property to thi s boy T om Woods." '"Ba--I mean what are y o u going to do mamma ? " I don"t I do; I'll follow the woman and frighten her into acc e pting a f e w hundre d dollar s and re s igning all claim to the prop e rty." "But s h e ha sn't any claim to the property." "No; bu t I qon't dare make that fact public, for then she d t ell wh a t slw know'i about the will" "But thi s fir s t lrns band of her s will make it public don'tcher know. "'True, Gu s s ie. Oh thi s i s a dre a dful perplexing position. But I won"t giv e up the fortune; I won 't-I won't!" And :-lrs. Smythe pac e d the floor in great excitement, Gu s sie foll o wing hPr with his eyes a nd ex claiming beneath his breath: "Ba J o ve! Suddenl y his mothe r turned s harply upon him. "'W e 'v e spmt e nough time in talking; go down to the office and find out i f y o u c a n, this wre tched creature s e x act destination " Ya-as, mamm a." '"And l e a r n th e name o f this fir s t hu s b a nd of hers. In the me a ntim e Tom a nd Vinton were m aking their pre parations They were s impl e ones, con s i sting merely in packing a couple o f small handbags, and were s oon completed In a few minutes th e y s tood at the entranc e t o the hote l the a rrival o f the carriage that w as to convey them to the depot. A moment later down came Mrs Smy the and Gu ss i e attired for their journey, the handle of the dude s cane being thrus t half way down hi s throat, in accordance with his invariable custom So they're going away, too commented Tom. "That remind s me!" s aid Vinton "They jus t told me at the office that thi s fellow Gu ss ie, a s they call him ha s been making ii1quiries about me ." .'.'Perhaps ," s ugge s ted T om, they have g o t an inkling of the true state of affairs ." '"But h o w c ould they?" "They might have overheard our conversation in the p arlor." "By Jove, I believe you've hit it, Tom. Suppose they, too, s hou l d intend following the adventuress?" "Well, in t hat case we shall have to keep our eyes on the lot of them." "Just so ." In the meantime Mrs. Smythe and her son, wl10 stood at some distance waiting for their carriage, were staring at the two young men. Gussie!" snapped the old lady. Ya-as, mamma. " l forgot to ask you if you learned that fellow's name?" Ya-as, mamma." "\,Yell, what is it?" "Vinton, don'tcher know-Sydney Vinton. Mrs. Smythe started. Sydney Vinton!" mamma." ''Why, he mus t b e the s ame man that that fell o w Dick Danton, on board the steamer referred o." I don t know what yaw're talking about, mamma ." "Don't you remember my telling you about a certain Dick D a nton who was a friend of this so-called Mrs Maxwell, and who my s teriously d is appeared just before I could have an inter v iew with him ?" Oh ya a s ." Well he referred in a my s teriou s way to a certain 'Syd, and I have no doubt that thi s Vinton is the man." Ba Jov e "Just then their carriage drew up, and they were u s hered t o its door by the obsequious servants of the hotel, whom Gussie re warded with a goods ized "tip." "Ba Jove!" exclaimed the dude a moment later in a startled to ne a s he gaz ed out of the window. "What the matter, Gussie?" demanded his mother. "Why, mamma, that fellah, Vinton, don'tcher know, fell down jus t a s he was trying to g e t into his carriage. His blooming foot slipped ye know." 1 "What is that to us?" s aid Mrs Smythe, heartles s ly "I onl y h o pe he is disabled for the journey. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE BEGINNING OF AN EVENTFUL JOURNEY. As Gussi e Smythe had s aid, Vinton' s foot had s lipped just a s he was in the act of s tepping into the carriage which was to have c onveyed him to the railway station. He fell heavily to the pavement. A s he did not immediately a rise Tom, who had already entered the carriage, sprung out and as sisted him to his feet. "Are you hurt, Vinton?" the boy asked, anxiously, noticing the pallor of his companion's face. "I'm afraid I've sprained my ankle, Tom," was the faint reply. 'But no matter-help me into the carriage. I will go on at any co st. I--" Bu t even a s he spoke hi s countenance grew gh as tly, he s tagg ered, and fell unconscious into Tom's arms He had fainted from pain . Much alarmed, onr hero bo r e him into the hotel. Here he was rel ieved of his burden by a servant, who bore the i .niured man to his room A doctor who resided in the hotel was at onc e summoned i befo r e he arrived Vinton had regained hi s senses


BR A V E AND BOLD. "A bad sprain," said the physicia n "It will be some little time before you get out." \Vhen the doctor was gone, Vinton said: "Tom, this is hard luck." "It is, indeed, Vinton." I would not have missed seeing that woman for all the money I have in the world. "I was not thinking of that, Vinton. It is hard luck to sprain your ankle; as for the woman, you can see her some other time." "But, Tom, yo11 cannot guess my burning anxiety to see her nov.r." "Why are you so anxious?" "Because a hope, almost -a conviction, has sprung up in my heart that by having an interview with her I may be able to secure some means of release from the hated bonds that unite my life to hers. How, I cannot tell; but I want to see her, to question her, to force from her the secrets of her heart. I was but a boy when I became her victim; I am a man 110\V, and I love Beatrice Gresham." "Vinton," said Tom, taking his friend's hand, "will you intrust this mission to me?" "To you, Tom?" "Yes. I will follow the woman, question her, and perhaps bring back good news to you." "Tom, you could not do it." "I am sorry you have not more confidence 111 me, Vinton; but I am going to provt to you that I can do it. I haven't 'roughed it' so many years without getting some knowledge of the world." "I know it, Tom, but--" At this mom<"nt there came a light tap upon the door. To'll opened it, and confronted Sir George Gresham and his daughter. "We have just heard of your accident, Vinton, my boy," said the baronet, steppi1'1g to the couch where the yom1g man lay, and grasping his hand, "and need not assure you that we are heartily sorry. However. we must make the best of it, and I have brought Beatrice, who insists npon nursing you." "If you will permit me;' added the young lady, approaching the couch "I-I could not think," stammered Vinton a crimson flush replacing his pallo:-. "Then don't try to," laughed the baronet. "Of course -i,e shall not return to England until you are fully recovered. Beatrice and her maid will do their best to make you comfortable, and perhaps I can lend a hand myself once 111 a while." "You are very kind, Sir George," said Tom at this point, "and have relieved my mind a good deal, for I want to start at once for Switzerland on business, but could not bear to leave my friend." "Good luck to you, my boy, and a safe return," said Sir George. In a few minutes Tom's adieus were made and he was on his way to the station, having first disguised himself by donning a mustache, an imperial, and a pair of eye-glasses, the effect of whicl, was to make him look at least five years older than he really was He had not expected to catch the train upon which Mrs. Max well was a passenger; but it happened that it was delayed by an accident to the engine, and he was just in time to secure a seat in a compartment. As luck would have it, he found himself seated directly oppo site Mrs. M xwell, who glanced apprehensively at him as he entered, but evidently did not recognize him. It was plain that she stood in wholesome fear of Sydney Vin ton, as well she might. On his way to his compartment, Tom had seen the face of Gussie Smythe at the window of another carriage; but this time the dude had plainly no suspicion of his identity. In his new and hurriedly improved disguise, Tom looked like a young Frenchman of leisure, and was as direct a contrast to the Boston of a year ag-o as could be imagined. Besides our hero and the adventuress, the compartment con tained four men-one, old, gray-bearded and handsomely dressed; another, who sat next to Tom, apparently about thirty years of age, with a heavy black beard; and two young Englishmen, attired as tourists. Tom could not help noticing that the eyes of the two first-mentior.ed travelers were fixed almost constantly upon thr.: face of Mrs. Maxwell. Occasionally the old man's brows would contract, a fierce light would gleam in his eyes, and Tom would fancy he was about to address the woman. .. But he would seem to control hims e lf by a strong effort and sink back in his seat, muttering inaudibly to himself. Tom watched him curfously until his attention was attracted by a remark made by one of the Englishmen to his companion: "Have you heard of the murde1 on the Rue ---this morn ing, Harry?" "No; there's always something of the so .rt going on in that quarter. Who the victim this time?" "An old woman named Marianne Lascelles. She was shot by one Achille Dupont. To the surprise of every one, Tom most of all, Mrs., Maxwell started violently, and exclaimed: "Achille Dupont!" "Yes, madam," replied the Englishman, politely. "that is the ,, assassm s name. "Has he been captured?" "After a desperate fight with two gendarmes he escaped, but they have hopes of recapturing him soon." "I hope they will," hissed the woman, through her clinched teeth. "I hope he will be punished as he deserves-the wretch!" Her vehemence surprised all who heard her; and Totn again saw the same fierce gleam in the old man's eyes, and noticed that his bony hands were tightly clinched, as if it cost him a physical effort to control his anger. CHAPTER XXIX. THE SCENE SHIFTS. One evening . not many days later, a party of travelers were gathered around the fire in the famous old convent of Great St. Bernard, situated in the lofty Alps. A strangely assorted party it was It consisted of Mrs. Maxwell, Mrs. Smythe, the ever-present Gussie, the two men whom Tom had particularly noticed in the railway carriage 011 the day of his departure from Paris, andlast, but no1 least-Tom himself. I n the center of the room was a long table, which two of the good fathers, whose hospitality is world-wide, were en.gaged in "!etting" for the benefit of their guests, not one of whom they had ever seen before in their lives A strange journey had been that of this band of p ilgrims. Almost from the first Tom had suspected that the old man he had seen in the railway compartment and' the black-bear d ed stranger of thirty tn whom we have referred were, himself following Mrs. Maxweli.


BRA VE AND BOLD. For he noticed that their destination, like his own, seemed to be r egulated by her movements. If she took a cenain conveyance they took it, too; if she changed her route they changed theirs. And yet to all appearance they were strangers. Of course, be ing fellow-travelers for some days, they all en gaged more or upon v:uious topics of The old man gavt hi n a me as John Swift, and stated that he was a retirerl English m e rchant who was traveling for his health; the other represented himself to be a wealthy American making the ''grand tour," and said that his name was Marsden. But Tom could not help suspecting that both these names were assumed and that their owners were adventurers who would "stand watchi n g." As for himself, it bt!came necessary for h'm to assume a name, so he took that ot Frank Thornton, and gave his companions to und erstand that he was traveling simply for pleasure. "Ba Jove I' w!:1ined Gussie, moving as close to the fire as he possibly could, '"it's deucedly cold heah, don'tcher know." "Better not get much nearer that fire," suggested Marsden in a joking wa.y, "or you may fall in." "He wouldn't burn if he did," said Mrs. Maxwell, slangily "he's too fresh." "Ba Jove I" ejaculated Gussie, feebly. "Such remarks are in exceedingly poor taste," said Mrs. Smythe, stiffly. "In your opinion; you mean," snee red the adventuress. "Mrs. Maxwrll, returned Mrs. Smythe in her most frigid manner, "may I have the pleasure of a few words with you in priYate after supper?" "If it'll be any pleasure to you, you may," was the ready reply. "Now," thought the adventuress, "it's coming! We shall see who will win-this pale-faced. stuck-up creature, or I. I've outwitt ed many a smarter woman than she, and it will be mighty hard luck if I can't outwit her." The plain, wholesome supper, washed down by copious draughts of red wine. was over in due time; and half an hour later the two wom;n began their conversation, little guessing that Tom Woods, otherwise ''Frank Thornton," was concealed behind a screen, beside which tl::ey sat, listening to every word they uttered. "At last we: can come to an understanding," said !'llrs. Smythe, a ring of triumph in her voice as she confronted the woman she so bitterly hated. "l !mow that you are the legal wife of Sydney Vinton, from whom even now you are hiding'' I haven't forgotten about thut will leaving the property to the boy, Tom Wcods, which you so kindly exhibit ed to me." Tom listened w i th deepest in1rrcst. His suspicions, then, were well founded. Mr. Maxwell had made him his heir! ' By the wa:y. where ts the doc111nent ?" added Mrs. Maxwell. ''Eh?" ejaculated Mrs. Smytht:, in surprise at the unexpected question. Her companion rfpeateu the query. ''It is in the c harge of my son Gussie," replied Mrs. Smythe, stiffly "Now, to get to the pnint at once, we'd better stick to our present arrangement, and each of us hold our tongue." "Yes, but yom husband, this Vinton. may n ot hold h is ." Mrs. Smythe repeated the conversation she had overheard be tween Torr and Vinton. "And now le1 u> return to the rest of the company, for they are observmg us.'' A few moments later Tom found an opportunity to slip out of his place of concealment unobserved. The remainder of the puty were gathered around the big, open fireplace, and no one noticed him as he quietly left the room. If the will was in Gussie Smythe's possession our hero determined that he would gain p ossession of it, and he was about to make an attempt to do so. Gussie was doing something very unusual for him-attempting to tell a fumiy story, and the last words that Tom heard as he left the room were: "Ya-as, ba Jove! don'tcher know," fol lowed by the laugh1er of the party-laughter provoked not so much by the story 1s by its narrator. Tom happened tc know just where the dude's room was situ ated, and he made his wav to it. Upon the beci lay a small handbag, which our hero had often seen in the dude's hanrls. It seemed unlikely that this was the rec eptacle of the missing will, but it might be, and Tom was determined not to leave a stone unturned to accomplish his object. He attempted to open the bag, but it was lock ed. He then tried several keys on his own key-ring in the lock, and was lucky e nough to find one that fitted. He coulc scarcely repress a cry o f exultation as he opened the bag, for the first thing that met his gaze was a large envelope be a ring the words: "Last Will and Testament of Thomas Max well." The enveiopc was unsealed; the boy drew out the precious document and hurriedly scanned its content$ It was ind e ed the will of his benefactor, leaving all to him! "The end justifies the means in this case," murmured the boy as he qu'.ckly transferred the will to his own pocket. This d'cne he folckd .\ piece of old newspaper in the exact shape of wtll and placed it in the envelope, which he then restored to the bal!'. He had scarcely done this when he heard footsteps approaching. He hastily conceali:-d himself behind the bed-curtains. The next moment Mrs Smythe entered the room. Seizing the valise. she unlocked it and removed the envelC'pe containing-as r.he will; and placed it in her pocket. "It sh all be destroyed." Tom heard her mutter, as she left the room "It should been done before; but it is not too late." "I rather think it is," mused the boy, with a smile, as the woman left the ro-1m. "Well, my luck has stood by me. I was iust in t,ime. As soon as Mrs Smythe was out of the way. he, too. to tht room where the travelers were assembled. Just as he entt-red he saw the woman toss the envelope into the He also saw Mrs. :\faxwell excitedly addres her, but he could not hear the words she uttered. "What wa that?" asked the arlventuress, in a hurried whisper. "Well," Smythe with a quiet smile of triumph, "as it is entirely consunlf'd, I don't mind telling you." "It was--" "Yes, aF you have evidently gue s sed. it was the will." The adventuress glared at her companion. and it was eYident that she was :ibout to give vent to her passion in words. But at this moment here was a sudden commotion in the passage outside ant. the next instant one of the good fathers entered. folk1\ve1 by a tall. 1 hickset, d e termined-looking man who had evidently jus' arrived. "Friends," said tht mnnk, addrr:ssing t he company in Englishwhich he had probably observed was the language used by them


BRA VE AND BOLD. 31 all-"I am pained to say that I believe there is a fugitive from juiti,c:e among you." "Yes, and there he is," interrupted the stranger, stepping forward and placing his hand on the shoulder of the alleged English merchant, "John Swift." "Achille Dupont, I arrest you for the murder of Marianne Lascelles !" CHAPTER XXX. AN EXCITING NIGHT. "Ifs a lie!" shouted the man, springing to his feet. "I am not Achille Dupont. My name is Swift-John Swift-and I--" "Oh, no, it isn't," interrupted the detective, and with a quick movement he removed the false beard from his prisoner's face, revealing the features of the riding-master. "Sacre bleu!" began the Frenchman, his face c;onvulsed with rage. "Now, take it easy," interrupted the detective. "You're trapped, and that's all there is about it, my man." All eyes had been fixed upon the features of the riding-master, and no one had noticed the adventuress. When Dupont's idi-ntity had been established, her face had turned livid, and her countenance had given evidences of the tttmost terror. She now arose and was about to leave the room, when Dupont shouted: "Stop her!" The attention of all was now directed to the woman. Her face became even ghastlier than before. She staggered, would have fallen if the detective had not supported her. "I. am trapped," went on the f renchman, excitedly; "but if I suffer, she shall not go unpunished." "What do you mean, you scoundrel?" demanded Mrs. Max"'ell, trying to assume an air of bravado. "I never saw you be fore in my life." Dupont laughed scornfully. "You didr.'t, eh? I married you eight years ago in America, and you deserted me after we had lived together a year, robbing me of every penny I possessed in the world." "She your wife?" gasped Mrs. Smythe, a new hope illuminating her face. 'y cs. I never was able to gain any trace of her until the other day, when I found her masquerading under the name of Mrs. Maxwell. I should have exposed her on the spot could I have done so without revealmg my own identity; but now that I am \Jabbed she shall suffer, too. She shall leave this place a prisoner." The adventuress glared at him a few ?ioments without speaking. Then she said : "The game's played, and I have lost. But as you, Achille Dupont, have dragged me down, so will I drag her!" indicating Mrs. Smythe. "\Vhat do you mean, woman?" asked that lady, with haughty composure. "You know well enough what I mean," stormed the ad venturess. "Don't think that you are going to enjoy the estate of which I have heen robbed, for though you have burned the will--" "But she hasn't hurm:d the \Yill, as it happens," interrupted Tom, quietly. It was now his turn to receive the undivided attention of the company. "What do you mean?" hissed Mrs. Smythe. "I mean that the envelope you burned contained only waste paper, and that the will is in my pocket at this moment." "B-ba Jove!' it cahn't be, don'tcher know,'' interrupted Gussie. "It's in my traveling-bag." "Oh, no, it isn't," !aughed Tom. "I took it out." "Then you are a thief.!" almost shrieked Mrs. Smythe. "Oh, no,'' replied Tom, quietly. "I took only what belonged to me; you will find your property undisturbed." Then, for the first time, Gussie and his mother recognized our hero. "I shall contest the will," said the woman, white with passion. "I withheld it only because its conditions were absurd and un just." "Oh, your motives were of the most praiseworthy description, I have no doubt," interposed the adventuress, with a sneering laugh. "Well, I'm glacl you've lost the property, though I can't get it; and I hope you will contest the will, for if you do you'll be exposed to the world in your true colors. As for myself" turning and boldly confronting Dupont-"! defy you to do your worst. Bah !"-and she snapped her fingers-"what charge can you bring against me? None upon which I would be held an hour." "But I can." The speaker was the man who had been known to the party as Marsden, and who had been until now a silent but evidently inter ested listener to the intf'rview. "Who are you?" demanded the adventuress, and the same inquiry could be read in the faces of all present. "You don't know me?" "I do not" "You shall." The stranger swept his hand acros his face, removing his beard. "Dick Danton!" cried the woman, shrinking back. "Yes, Nancy Graham, Dick Danton, the man whom you th o ught you had silenced forever." "Then she did attempt your life, as I suspected?" cried Mrs. Smythe, eagerly. "She did Knowing in some way of our appointment, and see ing herself on the verge of exposure, she pushed me from tl1c deck of the vessel." "How were you saved?" "I am an expert swimmer, and I kept myself above the surfac-e for a long time. Then I found a floating plank and clung to it until, some. hours later, I was rescued by a steamer bound for Glasgow. Since then I have been on the track of this woman. I did not intend to reveal my identity quite so soon, for my plans were not tully ripened. But it is just as well. This woman I knew to be the wife of Sydney Vinton, but I never heard of this man, Achille Dupont, until to-night." The pallor of the adventuress' face, the dilation of her nostrils, the heaving of her bosom, all betrayed the intense emotion she felt. But she only said: "Bah! I deny this absurd story in toto, and I fancy you'll have a pretty hard time to prove it." And she swept from the room. ."Don't let her go I" sho:.itcd D;;pont, hi s eyes rrfeaming with malignant rage. "I'd rathH rncrifice my r i ght than al.low her to escape my vengeance." "She wilJ not leave the my son, said the good father, gravely. "To go out to-night would be certain death, for the snow is falling fast and tlje wind is rising. But think not of earthly vengeance, I counsel you, but make your peace with the Heaven you have offended."


BRA VE AND BOLD. But Dupont turned from him with a sneer. At nine o'clock that night all the members of that strangely assorted party were in the rooms assigned them by their pious hosts. Tom lay awake a long time reviewing the exciting events of the past few days, and congratulating himself upon their happy issue. The m o nastery bell had struck the hour of midnight when his eyes were at last closed in slumber. He was suddenly awakened by a slight noise by his bedside. Opening his eyes, he saw Gussie Smythe upon his knees upon the floor, a candle by his side, overhauling the contents of his valise. Evidently the dud e was trying to recover the lost will. But it was not there; at that moment it was reposing under Tom's pillow. Our hero wa s ab o ut to spring from the bed when Gussie per ceived that he was awake Leaping to his feet he rushed forward and clutched the prostrate boy by the throat. As we have had occasion te say before, the dude was a power fully built man and he now had his victim at an immens e disad ;vantage His eyes bl azed with a fierce light that Tom had never seen in them before. It was, evid e ntly his purpose to strangle the boy. Tom strugg l e d to fr e e lumself, but his efforts were in vain. He tried to call for help, but he was unable to articulate a word. "I have ya w now, yaw young cub," hissed the fellow in his ear, "and I fahn c y yaw won't escape me as easily as yaw did be fore." Tom's sense s wen leaving him, he gave himself up for lost, when one of t11f' monks, a muscular young man of about Gussie's own age, rus hed in and tore the would-be assassin's grasp from his throat. "Wretch! would you do murder within these walls devoted to 1he service of Heavt:n ? the father cried with burning indigna tion. B-ba Jove!" whined Gu s sie, "I-I didn't know what I was d o ing don tcher kno w I-I was walking in my sleep." "It is false!" returned ilie pri e st. "But that Heaven directed my steps to this spot you would have succeeded in the commission "I'm glad of it," cried the adventuress, passionately. "Silence, woman!" said the good father. "Let us all pray for the respose of his soul." A few days later Tom reached Paris, and at once proceeded to the hotel when he had left Vinton. He found the young man alone; and, judging from the expression on his face his mmd was ill at ease. "Tom, thank God!" he cried, fervently longed for your coming! You telegraphed good news; what is it?" "The best of news," began th. e boy. "She-that woman-is dead!" "No." "Oh, how I have me that you had /'Then no news you can bring can make me happy again. Tom, I have beer ma d enough to confess my love to Beatrice, and I have learned from hPr lips that it is reciprocated. Oh, what right had I, who am bound to another--" "But you are not bound to another," interrupted Tom. "The woman you believed your wife had another husband living when she married you." And he proceeded to inform his friend of the events with which the reader is already acquainted. "Thank God l" cried Vinton, earnestly; "there may yet be happiness in store for me. But the secret of my life--" "Shall remain a secret still, or at least until you choose to reveal it to Miss Beatrice. Why pa i n her with the story now?" The will Tern recovered was perfectly legal, and as it was never contested, he inherited Mr. Maxwell s fortune. The adventuress Nancy Graham, managed to elude the pursuit of her Nemesis, Dick Danton, and, it is rumored, secured a wealiliy husband in an old English millionaire. Sydney Vinton and Beatrice Gresham were made man and wife about six months after the events which we have just re lated, and are now living happily together in London. Tom made a flying vis i t to America to settle his affairs, and then returned to Europe, where he is now traveling. He has not yet attain e d hi s majority, and can still claim the title given him so long ago, of "One Boy in a Thousand." THE END. of the most fearful of all crimes." Next week's issue, No. 2, of the Brave and Bold Library, will Let him go, father," interposed T om. "I will s e e iliat he is contain a story that will do your he art good to read. Here is the punished." "It was all a mistake, don 'tcher know," added the cowardly dude, as he s neaked out of the room When most of th<" travelers were assembled for breakfast one of the monks entered with a p a le, disturbed face. "The man Achille Dupont is dead," he said "He managed to leave the h o spice in the night little imagining how hopeless was his escape He was overcome by the cold and the storm before he had gone a hundred rods. His body has just been found and brought in." title. Doesn't it sound hke the kind of a story you would like to read? "Among the Malays; or: the Mystery of the Haunted Island," by Cornelius Shea. Just the story to read by the fire on a winter evening, while the logs blaze and crackle and the wind howls outside. A s tory of hairbreadth adventures undergone by Yankee boys, and a description of an island in the Pacific with a mystery hanging over it that puzzled many explorers. There is plenty of good, rousing, rough-and-tumble fighting with the treacherous Malays, aud the mystery of the haunted island is finally solved.


Smith's New Weekly 1s a Big Departure 'ram anything ever Published Be,ore. EACHNUMBER CON T A INS A LOMPLETE S TOR Y AND )THE STORIE S ARE. O F EVERY KIND. That e a n s all d e scription s of :fir st-cla s s stories. F o r every story published in BRA VE AND BOLD will e first-class in the b es t s ense written b y a well k n own boys' autho r, full o f ratt l i n g incident and lively adventure, and brimming with i nteres t from cove r to c over. No matte r w h a t kind of a boy you are, no matter what your tastes are, n o matte r what kind of a s t o r y yo u pre f e r, you will ail BRAVE AND BoL D with d elight a s soon as you s ee i t. It i s the k i n d o f a weekly you have be wishing for. V ariety is the spice of life, and Brave and Bold is well seasoned with it. s 1 o TES O F ADVENTURE. STORIESe OP .i.JIYSTERJl STORIES OF EXPLO = RATIO N I N UNKNOWN LANDS. STORIES OF LIFE IN GREAT C ITIES. STORIES O F W O N D ERFUL INVENTIONS. Besides many more classe s of s tories than can be enumerated, will be found in thi s w eekly emembe r this :-Each story i s a corker and the be s t of its kind. N o e x pen se h as b een. s p a red n getting the best, and as a consequence BRAVE AND BoLD offer s the finest coll e cti o n of storie s eve r put on the marke t. IIere are the :first four storie s Don' t they whet your a ppetite ? Whe n y ou r ead them yo n will find the m e ve n better than you e xpected : I -One Boy i n a Thousand ; or, Yankee to the Backbone. By Fred. Thorpe. Every boy in Ameri ca, Yankee or Hoosier, Westerner or Easterner, will be thrilled by this 1story. A Boston bootblack, with nothing b u t his own American pluck and grit, determines t o see the wo rl d, a n d does i t Wil d adventur es in t h e slums o f London a n d Pari s on ocea n steam ships a n d on Swiss m ountains, fa ll t o h is l<>t. H e mak es both friends and enemi es, and never lacks for excitement. How h e finally became a millionaire, outwitting two clever villains, is told in this story. 2.-Amo n g the Malay s ; or, The Mystery of the Haunte u Island. By Corneliu s Shea. A voyage in the Indi a n O cean, a shipwreck, a haunted island, m u t ineers, Malay pirates, o l d mines. T hey look to be the ingredients of a good story, n d this stor y has every o n e of them in it. thik, there !'e t wo daring: American boys w h o have to fight f t h e i r livl'S, who show t h e Malays tha t Youn g America cant be dow n ed. 3.-The Diamond Tattoo; or, Dick Hardy's Fight fo1 Fortune. By M. Boyington. A stor y of a boy l ivi n g i country town in New York, who found himself the center some of the strangest happenings tha t ever occurred. A mond mark mysteriously tattooed on his arm; 11 band of b who tried t o in jure him; a kidnapping plot; outwitting a sh ol d lawyer. These ire onl y a few of the feature.; of the s t o 1 C o pies of tbe Bra. vc a.nd Bold Weekly ma.y be purchased for Five Cents from all Newsdealers, or from STREET & SMITH, 2 3 8 William New York. 4'


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