Jack Harkaway in New York; or, The Adventures of the Travelers' Club

And the refrain rung in their ears all the way to the depot:

CHAPTER XIV.

MASTER AND SLAVE.

Lord Maltravers was naturally very much elated at his success in winning Lena Van Hoosen's consent to marry him.

He was really very much in love with the young lady, and intended to settle down and live a quiet life with her.

That he had got rid of Adéle Bellefontaine forever, he did not doubt for a moment.

Everything progressed favorably with him, as his plans gradually approached their fruition.

A few days before that appointed for the marriage, Bambino entered his master's private room, while he was at breakfast.

He sat down with an air of easy familiarity, which was very unusual with him.

"What do you want?" asked Maltravers, looking up from his paper.

"My discharge," replied Bambino.

Lord Maltravers put a glass in his eye and regarded him curiously.

"Your what?" he asked.

"My discharge. Is it necessary for me to repeat it?"

"But, my good fellow, you are my life-long star. I may need you in the future."

"I care not. Let me go."

"Certainly not. If you persist in your determination to leave me, I shall go at once to the Italian Consul, and let him know that Bambino, the escaped murderer, is in New York."

"What then?"

"There is a price on your head."

"Well?"

"You will be sent back to Italy, and pass the remainder of your natural life at the galleys."

"Yes, that's true," said Bambino, calmly.

"Reflect, my friend," continued Maltravers. "However fond you may be of hard work and black bread, however much you may be enamored of the whip of the taskmaster, and notwithstanding the charm a hot sun may have for you, I will venture to say, that my service is more agreeable."

"I wish to quit your service, sigñor."

"And I say again, I will not permit you to do so. It is not always that one can pick up such an accomplished villain as you are."

"Do I suit you so well?"

"So well, that I will not part with you."

"I am a finished villain?" Bambino asked, in a strange voice.

"Perfect in every respect."

"You have no fault to find with me?"

"None."

Bambino smiled quietly, as if pleased with an original idea which had just occurred to him.

"Give me fifty thousand dollars," he exclaimed, "and I will not trouble you any more."

Lord Maltravers started from his chair, and seized a cane.

"Dog," he said, "am I to stand this impertinence?"

"Yes."

"You say 'yes!' do you know of what you are talking?"

Bambino rose and displayed his dagger.

"Cospetto!" he cried. "Touch me not. If you so much as lay your little finger on me, I will stab you to the heart."

Maltravers dropped the cane.

"Oh! decidedly," he said, "I shall have to go to the Italian Consul."

"No, my lord," replied Bambino. "It is I, who will have to go to the British Consul."

Maltravers turned pale with rage.

"Do you threaten me, you low scoundrel?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, I do."

"What can you say, except that I hired you to commit a crime—that is, I employed you to kill Jack Harkaway?"

"I shall not go upon that."

"If you did no one would believe you."

"Possibly not," said Bambino, calmly. "But, my lord, suppose I said that you had a wife alive."

Again Maltravers changed color perceptibly.

"If you did you would lie," he replied.

"Oh! no. I am perfectly conversant with your little marriage in France."

"Yes. I have talked to you about it, possibly, in my confidential moments."

"More than that—I know where your wife is at this moment, and I can produce her at the altar when you attempt to marry Miss Van Hoosen."

"You villain!"

"My lord," said Bambino, "you do me honor. I feel proud to be so complimented by you."

He bowed low as he spoke, with mock humility.

"Prove what you allege," cried Maltravers, who was intensely excited.

"That's easy enough."

"Begin!"

"It is not necessary for me to show you my cards," returned Bambino. "I can do what I say, and I will do so, unless you buy me off."

"I refuse to do anything of the kind."

"You defy me?"

"I do."

"Perhaps Mr. Harkaway may be more generous."

"Do you threaten me with an appeal to my rival?"

"Yes, my lord," answered Bambino.

Lord Maltravers was beside himself with rage at this insolent defiance, but he controlled himself by the exercise of a violent effort.

"Let us understand one another," he said.

"By all means."

"You allege that you know of the existence of a lady who claims to be my wife, and you further say, that she is in New York and you can produce her at a moment's notice, so as to stop my marriage with Miss Van Hoosen?"

"Precisely."

"And as the price of your silence you require $50,000?"

"That is the sum."

"Where is this girl?" continued his lordship.

"I decline to say."

"What's her name?"

"That you know as well as I do. Will you give me the money?"

"No!"

Bambino shrugged his shoulders, as he advanced to the door.

"Then, all I have to do is to declare war to the knife," he said.

"Yes. You cowardly ruffians always use the knife. I prefer the pistol," replied his lordship.

He went rapidly to an escritoire and drew out an ivory-handled pistol.

"This is my answer to you," he cried.

Bambino shrunk back, but he was unable to avoid the ball which his lordship fired at him.

There was an explosion, a puff of smoke and the crafty Italian fell on the floor, the blood welling from a wound in his head.

Hastily Lord Maltravers placed the pistol in the death-like clutch of his victim.

Then he rung the bell violently.

This tragedy occurred at one of the leading hotels and could not be hushed up.

When the waiter answered the bell, his lordship was perfectly calm.

"This man, my servant," he exclaimed, "has been despondent lately, and because I would not allow him to return to Italy, he has committed suicide. Summon the proprietor of the hotel!"

The servant hastened to do so.

When the proprietor arrived, he was told the same story, which he saw no reason to disbelieve, and, an ambulance being sent for, Bambino was taken to the hospital.

No report was made to the police, and for a wonder no reporter got hold of the circumstance.

Lord Maltravers followed his servant to the hospital, and appeared much concerned about his condition.

After the house surgeon had made an examination he was prepared with his report.

"Is it serious?" inquired Maltravers.

"Very," was the reply.

"Will he live?"

"No. The man will die."

Lord Maltravers could scarcely contain his exultation at this announcement.

"Allow me to ask one more question," he exclaimed.

"With pleasure," answered the house surgeon.

"Will the poor fellow recover consciousness before he expires?"

"Possibly he will. I cannot say positively."

"When do you expect death to ensue?"

"Inside of forty-eight hours."

Lord Maltravers went away, slightly disturbed in his mind. If Bambino recovered consciousness for only a brief period, he might talk. There was danger in that.

If he denounced Lord Maltravers as his murderer, and if he pointed out the place where Adéle Bellefontaine was living, his lordship's newly-found happiness would topple over like a pack of cards built into a house by the hand of a child, whose breath subsequently destroys the frail edifice.

Eagerly he longed for the time to pass. Three times that day he called at the hospital. His last visit was at twelve o'clock. Bambino had not yet spoken.

CHAPTER XV.

MR. MOLE PLAYS BASE-BALL.

Captain Cannon and Mr. Twinkle went back to England after the famous buffalo-hunt, feeling themselves insulted by the trick which had been played upon them.

Jack, Harvey and Professor Mole remained at the hotel.

It may readily be imagined that Jack was in no enviable frame of mind.

Alfred Van Hoosen was his friend and wished him to marry his sister, but Lena had promised to espouse Lord Maltravers, and so great was the mother's influence that the day was already fixed.

Jack expected every day that Alfred would come to him and propose some plan by means of which the celebration of the marriage could be prevented.

He waited in vain and fumed and fretted until he grew ill and pale.

Little did he know that at the same time Lord Maltravers was as uneasy as he was himself.

He knew nothing about the dangerous condition of the villain Bambino, and that Maltravers was standing, as it were, on a volcano which might at any time erupt and scatter all his fond ideas to the winds, dash his happiness to atoms and shatter the idol which he had set up for himself to worship.

If Bambino recovered sufficiently to speak, then all hope of a union with Lena Van Hoosen was at an end.

While affairs were in this condition, Mr. Mole made the acquaintance of a young man who was living with his parents in the hotel.

It happened in this way.

The Continental Hotel, on Broadway, was the caravansera which Harkaway and the members of the Travelers' Club stayed at, and the genial proprietor, Mr. Merrifield, was much interested in the eccentric professor.

Meeting him in the hall one morning, seated in a chair with his legs on another, Mr. Merrifield said:

"I thought it was not an English custom, professor, to put your legs up at an angle of forty-five degrees?

"My dear sir," replied Mole, "there is nothing in this country that an Englishman cannot do and has not done in his own land."

"Can you drink whisky straight?"

"Try me," said Mole, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Can you play base-ball?"

"I think so. The fact is, I am a good cricket player, and I see no reason why I should not play the emasculated game you call base-ball."

"Well now," said Merrifield, "I'll give you an opportunity of showing what you can do in that direction."

"How?"

"A young gentleman living in the house with his parents, whose name is Morris Hart, is captain of the Blue Stockings, and that club is going to play the Red Stockings a match to-day."

"Well?"

"The Blues are short of one out of their nine. You shall take the place of the missing man, if you like."

"I'll do it."

"Mind," said Mr. Merrifield, "you have said you are a good base-ball player."

"Did I say so?"

"Yes, and if you lose the match through your bad play, we shall blame you."

"I understand."

"Of course," Mr. Merrifield continued, "I am not reflecting on your veracity. I know very well that an Englishman never blows. It is only an American that brags about his country and says he can whip all creation."

"Well," replied the professor. "I don't mind repeating that I must be a good base-ball player, because it is a mild edition of what we call 'Rounders,' a game which small boys play and which cannot be spoken of in the same breath with cricket."

"But base-ball is a dangerous game to play."

"Oh! pshaw!"

"People often get arms and legs broken."

"Nonsense. You should see our swift round hand bowling. That would open your eyes a little."

As the professor spoke a young man approached; he was tall, well formed and handsome.

"Ah!" said Mr. Merrifield. "You are the very man I was looking for. Professor Mole, allow me to introduce my friend, Mr. Morris Hart."

They bowed and shook hands.

"Glad to know you, sir," said Morris.

"I am proud and happy to reciprocate that sentiment, my young friend," replied Mr. Mole.

"Morris," exclaimed Mr. Merrifield, "you are short of a man in your match with the 'Reds' to-day, I believe?"

"We are, and I cannot find a substitute anywhere. Guess we shall have to play eight against nine."

"No indeed. The professor volunteers to fill the vacant place."

"Is that so?" replied Morris Hart. "I am real pleased to hear it, but—"

"What?"

"I don't want to disparage the professor's accomplishments. Yet I have always heard that the English did not understand our national game."

Mr. Mole smiled disdainfully.

"Child's play," he said.

"What is?"

"Base-ball."

Morris Hart bridled up at this.

"You won't find it so," he rejoined.

"Not much," said Mr. Merrifield. "You bet your high monkey munk."

"Well, well," exclaimed Mr. Mole, "the proof of the pudding is in the eating. I will call base-ball a very scientific game, and with your kind permission, I will show you how an old cricketer can play."

"Agreed," said Morris Hart.

This being settled, Mr. Merrifield left them together, and it was arranged that Mr. Mole should go over to the grounds at Hoboken at a certain hour.

Morris gave him the club clothes, blue stockings, etc., which he put in a grip sack and left him, after exacting a promise that he would be on time.

Mr. Mole was no sooner possessed of the cap, shirt, drawers and stockings, than he went to his room and put them on.

Very comical indeed was his appearance, for his long, gaunt, angular form made him look like an animated scarecrow.

Anxious to display himself, he went to Harkaway's room, finding Jack and Harvey engaged in conversation.

"Say, boys," exclaimed the professor, "what do you think of me?"

They regarded him with astonishment.

"What lunacy is this?" inquired Jack.

"Eh!" exclaimed Harvey, "what is it?"

"I give it up," replied Jack.

"Give it up?"

"Yes. Ask me an easier one."

"It must have escaped from a menagerie," said Harvey.

Mr. Mole regarded them with a lofty air.

"No doubt you think yourselves mighty funny," he remarked. "But you can run me, all you like. I am going to show these Yankees how an Englishman can play base-ball."

"You going to play?"

"Yes, boys. I am a Blue shirt, or a cap, or a stocking, I forget which, but I know I'm blue."

"Perhaps you will be black and blue before you get through," said Jack.

"Good for the major," ejaculated Harvey, laughing.

"All right, boys. Have your little jokes with the old man, but you will see how I shall paralyze the Americans with my play."

"I wish you luck," answered Harkaway, "and would go with you, only I expect Van Hoosen here."

"Is there any fresh news about the marriage?" asked Mole.

"None. Mrs. Van Hoosen has made up her mind that Lena shall marry Maltravers," replied Jack.

"Misguided girl!"

"She is, indeed. I have every reason to know that she does not love him, and only a mistaken sense of duty to her mother makes her accept him."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"What can I do? The marriage is to take place to-morrow."

"So soon?"

"Yes. I give you my word I am nearly crazy, for I love that girl better than my life."

Mr. Mole heaved a deep sigh.

"I loved once," he said, "and my wife used to go for my scalp, which had the effect of destroying love's young dream."

"I should think so," replied Harvey.

"But, my dear sir," exclaimed Jack, "you will admit, I hope, that married life is the happiest state of existence."

"I'll admit nothing."

"No happiness is to be found outside of the home circle."

"It depends on a man's temperament, also on how a man is brought up. A Philadelphian is happy at home, a New Yorker is ignorant of the meaning of the word 'Home,'" replied Mr. Mole.

"Oh! pshaw," said Jack, impatiently. "Have sense. Tell me if there is any bliss comparable to that of having a sweet little darling always in the house when you want her?"

"Suppose she is there when you do not want her?"

"I can not admit any such supposition. Go and play your game."

"I will."

"You and Maltravers ought to be in the same game."

"Why?"

"Because it is 'base.'"

"Oh!" cried the professor. "What have I done to deserve this? You have called it 'base.' I must go and get a 'ball' after that."

He walked to a closet in which he knew Jack kept sundry bottles of wine and liquors, and helped himself to a draught of brandy.

"Well, boys," he exclaimed, "I must leave you, and you can bet your high monkey munk, as friend Merrifield says, that I will do all that lays in my power to uphold the honor of old England, and the flag that for a thousand years has braved the battle and the breeze."

Waving his arm grandly he quitted the apartment, and making all his preparations, started for the place appointed for the match.

The Blue Stockings were a pretty strong team and had beaten the Reds the year previously, but it was said the Reds had improved greatly, and a spirited contest was expected.

Mr. Mole knew nothing whatever about the game, but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut, until he was spoken to.

His side lost the choice of innings and had to take the field.

The professor became much interested in seeing the men run from base to base, and did not look out keenly enough.

What was the consequence?

A ball struck him with fearful force below the knee.

He ought to have stopped it or caught it, but he didn't, and he fell to the ground with a broken leg.

"Oh! oh!" he cried, "I'm killed."

Morris Hart ran up to see what was the matter.

"Why didn't you stop the ball?" he asked.

"It came so fast, I couldn't," groaned the unhappy professor.

"I thought you were used to fast bowling and could play the game."

"So I thought."

"It's my opinion you're a first-class fraud."

"Don't abuse me, there is a good fellow," said Mole. "Send for an ambulance and have me taken to the hospital: I'm in great pain and can't walk."

"If that is so, pardon me."

"My leg is broken."

"I'm sorry, but I always knew it took an American to play base-ball."

"Give me cricket," moaned Mr. Mole. "It is a decent and respectable game. You don't want to get your life insured before you engage in it."

Morris Hart could not refrain from smiling; but he hurried away to get a conveyance which would take Mr. Mole to the hospital.

He would have sent him to his hotel, but the professor wished to have the best advice he could get, and he knew he was sure of having excellent treatment at a hospital.

Accordingly he was taken to a hospital in New York and put to bed, when the surgeon set the broken leg and assured him that in a few weeks he would be able to get about again on crutches.

"Heaven help me," said Mole. "What a fool I am getting in my old age. Here am I in a strange country, and ought to have known better than to indulge in the barbarous games of the people. Confound base-ball and the man who invented it; but it serves me right. I have no one but myself to blame."

CHAPTER XVI.

BAMBINO IN THE HOSPITAL.

Mr. Mole was in the accident ward, and many poor wretches were sighing and groaning around him.

In the next bed on the right-hand side was a man who appeared in a comatose state.

Calling the nurse he said, "What is the matter with that man there?"

"He is dying," was the reply.

"Is that so?"

"It's a case of suicide. He was the Italian valet of an English nobleman, they say."

"What is the nobleman's name?"

"Lord Maltravers."

Mr. Mole, at this announcement, gave a start which nearly displaced the splints around his leg.

"Bambino!" he ejaculated.

As he said this; the man in a dying condition looked up with wide-open eyes.

The mention of his name seemed to have aroused him from the state of stupor into which he was plunged.

"Yes. I am Bambino," he said, in a faint voice. "Who calls me?"

"I," replied Mole.

"Who are you? My eyes are dim. I cannot see you. All is a blank."

"A friend."

"What would you with me, friend?"

"Who shot you?"

This was a random question on the part of the professor, but it touched the right chord.

"My master," replied Bambino, for it was he, and Mr. Mole by a strange fatality had been placed in the same ward and in the bed next to the scoundrel.

"Why did he shoot you?"

"Because he was going to marry a young lady in New York and I told him he had a wife alive and that it would be bigamy. I wanted money to keep quiet and he would not give it me. Then I threatened to produce the first wife, so he shot me."

The nurse was standing by, listening to the strange conversation.

"Did you hear that?" inquired Mole.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"Pay particular attention to it if you please, as it is of the utmost importance to a friend of mine and you will be required possibly as a witness."

"Who is this first wife?" pursued Mole, "and what is her name?"

"A French woman, Adéle Bellefontaine, living with Madame Vesta Levine, the clairvoyant, in New York city!"

The heavy lids fell down over the eyes and the man lapsed into a state of semi-consciousness.

It was then about nine o'clock in the evening.

If the professor's leg had not been broken, he would have got up and hastened to the Continental Hotel to apprise Jack Harkaway of that which would have been amply sufficient to stop the impending marriage on the morrow between Lena Van Hoosen and Lord Maltravers.

The next day they were to be married and if ever that marriage took place, Jack's heart would be broken.

Bambino's utterances were not the ravings of delirium, far from it; he spoke coherently enough, and had given sufficient information to enable Jack to stop the marriage.

Adéle Bellefontaine—Madame Vesta Levine, the clairvoyant—that was enough.

Surely there could be no difficulty in finding either or both of them.

CHAPTER XVII.

JACK MAKES A LAST APPEAL.

It was the morning appointed for the marriage.

Harkaway was miserable and disconsolate.

He had not seen Mr. Mole since the day before, and had only heard that he was hurt and had been taken to the hospital.

So he said to Harvey: "Morris Hart tells me that old Mole got his leg broken playing base-ball. I suppose it is not very serious or we should have heard from him. Won't you go and see him, Dick?"

"Certainly," replied Harvey.

Scarcely had he gone, when Alfred Van Hoosen came in. Jack eagerly grasped his hand.

"Will she see me?" he asked.

"Yes. I have sufficient influence over her to induce her to do that," was the reply. "I have induced her to consent to breakfast with us at the Brunswick."

They quitted the house together and Jack went on to the Brunswick, while Alfred Van Hoosen engaged a carriage to go to the house and bring his sister.

It was in a private room that Jack awaited their coming. Slowly passed the minutes.

At length there was a rustle of silk, that indescribable frou-frou which the skirts of a woman always make, and Lena Van Hoosen, looking pale and with traces of tears on her cheeks entered.

"Lena!" exclaimed Jack.

She extended her hand which Jack grasped warmly.

"I have come at the solicitation of my brother," she replied, "to bid you farewell."

"Forever?" he asked.

"Yes. I thought I owed this much to you, but I wish it understood that we can only meet in future as strangers.

"I am to be married to Lord Maltravers. It is against my will, I admit that—"

"Oh! Lena," interrupted her brother, passionately. "You always professed some liking for me. Why will you persist in this ill-advised match?"

"Simply because it is my duty. My mother insists upon it. I sacrifice my inclination and my love."

It was evident from her manner and appearance that the poor girl was suffering terribly.

"Is there no hope for me?" asked Jack, as he choked back a sob.

"None," she answered in a stony voice. "Learn to forget me."

"I cannot do it. I have every reason to believe that I have been something to you. Can you so easily forget me?"

She dared not look him in the face.

"Do not ask me," she said. "I have come at your wish and my brother's to wish you farewell."

At this moment an organ in the street began to play a funereal dirge, and it sounded like the knell of all his hopes.

Alfred offered his arm to his sister and they passed out together.

For some time Jack remained in an attitude of passive despair, then he walked down-stairs.

In his preoccupied state, he did not see where he was going, and in the corridor he pushed against a man.

The man was Lord Maltravers who had come there to breakfast.

"Harkaway," said his lordship.

"Yes, and your enemy," was the reply.

"I know it, my good fellow, and I'm proud of it."

"Don't call me your 'good fellow,'" said Jack, while the blood rushed to his face.

"I shall call you what I please," exclaimed Lord Maltravers, with cool insolence.

Jack controlled himself, and the two men stood glaring at one another. Under no circumstances can men hate so intensely as when they are rivals for the affections of a woman.

"Isn't it about time, Mr. Harkaway, that you returned to England?" said Lord Maltravers, with his glass in his eye.

Jack gnashed his teeth.

"You are trying to insult me," he exclaimed.

"I hoped I had succeeded," was the reply.

"By Heaven you have," Jack cried, unable to control himself any longer.

Clinching his broad sledge-hammer fist, he stepped back a pace and dealt the peer a heavy blow in the face.

Maltravers rolled over and fell on the floor.

Striding over his prostrate body with a contemptuous air, Jack quitted the place.

When he reached home he found Harvey in the hall.

"I was waiting for you, Jack," he said. "Had any luck?"

"None at all."

"Couldn't you persuade the lady that you were better than that fellow Maltravers?"

"No. She would obey her mother."

"Never mind. There are as good fish in the sea, as ever."

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE BRIDAL.

The day appointed for the marriage had at length arrived, and Lena Van Hoosen was about as miserable a girl as there was to be found in New York city.

With Lord Maltravers she could never be happy. But she thought it her duty to sacrifice herself in deference to the wishes of her mother.

The marriage was arranged to take place in Mrs. Van Hoosen's house, at five o'clock in the afternoon.

Only a few intimate friends of the family and some relatives had been invited.

Alfred Van Hoosen at first refused to attend, but Lena begged him not to keep away, and very reluctantly he consented to be on hand.

At half-past five Lord Maltravers arrived and apologized for the marks on his face by saying that his horse had run away with him and that he had been thrown in Central Park.

Lena paid very little attention to him, as he presented her with some magnificent diamonds which her mother placed around her neck and wrists, but not even a smile illumined her countenance, which was as pale as death.

At length the clergyman arrived, and as the clock softly tinkled the hour of five, the couple took their position, in front of him, and with open book he commenced the ceremony.

Mrs. Van Hoosen was delighted, for her ambitious schemes now seemed on the verge of being realized.

Indeed she was the only person in the room, except the guests, who seemed at all happy.

Lord Maltravers was restless and uneasy, looking constantly toward the door, as if he feared some interruption to the ceremony.

Alfred bit his lip and frowned, as he regarded Maltravers with anything but a friendly air.

Scarcely had the clergyman read half a dozen lines when there was a loud ring at the bell.

Maltravers started and Lena flushed visibly as if she hoped against hope that something might happen to interfere with this hateful marriage.

The minister went on with the ceremony.

Suddenly there was a commotion in the hall, the sound of footsteps was heard on the stairs, and Jack Harkaway, hat in hand, appeared in the doorway.

Halting on the threshold he said: "Pardon my intrusion, ladies and gentlemen."

Lord Maltravers bridled up.

"You are an uninvited guest, sir," he replied.

"I have taken the liberty of coming here to interrupt this marriage."

Maltravers grew deathly pale.

"Are you aware, my good fellow," he exclaimed insolently, "that you have rendered yourself liable to be removed by the police?"

"Try it," answered Jack.

"Fortunately I provided against a contingency of this kind and have a policeman stationed in the adjoining apartment. If you do not instantly quit the house, I shall—with Mrs. Van Hoosen's permission—tell the officer to do his duty."

Mrs. Van Hoosen bowed her acquiescence.

"Allow me to ask the minister one question," said Jack.

"What is it?" inquired the minister.

"Is it lawful for a man to have two wives?"

"Certainly not."

"Then I forbid this marriage to proceed, for Lord Maltravers has a wife living."

"It is false," cried Maltravers.

"What proofs have you of this allegation?" inquired the minister.

"The lady herself."

The next moment Harvey, with a lady leaning on his arm, made his appearance.

The lady was Adéle Bellefontaine.

"Here is your wife, my lord," exclaimed Jack.

Adéle no sooner saw Maltravers than, clouded though her intellect was, she recognized him.

Rushing forward she fell on her knees and grasped his unwilling hand.

"Oh! do not spurn me from you," she cried. "I am your wife in the sight of God and man and Heaven knows I have always loved you dearly."

"You are an impostor," replied Maltravers.

"No, no. You cared for me once."

"Away!"

"I will not. This time you shall not drive me from you."

Harkaway stepped forward.

"Will you call your policeman now?" he asked.

His lordship glared at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Who killed Bambino?" persisted Jack.

Maltravers staggered as if he had been shot.

"My lord," said Jack, "Bambino has spoken! His confession and accusation against you were taken down by a judge. A warrant is already out for your arrest on the charge of murder, for he died this afternoon."

Suddenly Maltravers drew a pistol from his pocket. "Stand back," he exclaimed. "I will not be taken alive."

He attempted to gain the door, but Adéle clung to his hand. "Do not leave me," she plead.

Depressing the muzzle of his pistol he placed it near her head.

In the struggle that ensued, the pistol exploded, and Adéle fell to the floor, shot dead.

Maltravers ran from the room and by his knowledge of the premises succeeded in making an effective escape. The police quickly came, but they were wholly baffled, and though every step was taken to catch the murderer and impostor he disappeared as utterly as if no such man had existed.

It was a sad release from life for the poor, neglected wife, but, better that than the misery of living as she had been. She was buried by kindly hands and sympathetic tears were shed at her grave.

Lena, under the inspiration of Jack's presence, soon recovered her good spirits and in due time became a willing bride and the most loved of wives.

And so Jack Harkaway's career in New York culminated in Jack Harkaway's happiness.

THE END

Beadle's Half Dime Library.

A new issue every week.

Beadle's Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS Publishers, 98 William Street, N. Y.

Transcriber's Notes:

Added table of contents.

Inconsistent accents (signor vs. sigñor) have been retained from the original.

Inconsistent spacing (somehow vs. some how) has been retained from the original.

Page 2, added missing apostrophe to "Why the Travelers' Club."

Page 9, added missing close quote after "accept my apology—."

Page 10, added missing period after "discern objects."

Page 11, changed "Not to day" to "Not to-day."

Page 12, changed "think- of Adéle" to "thinking of Adéle."

Page 13, changed question mark to period after "Ask their comrades."

Page 14, changed "his lord- was perfectly" to "his lordship was perfectly."

Page 15, normalized "base ball" to "base-ball" and changed "inquire Mole" to "inquired Mole." Also changed ? to ! after "in New York city!"

Page 16, changed "Is their no hope" to "Is there no hope." Corrected "Comes" to "Coomes" in the listing for book 13 of the series.